by Haidji
But to do it like that? To find some numbers among thousands…? Someone will need to make the extra hours for that, and they needed to pay for that, and for the silence of the pregnant women, about all that was happening in the condominium and game’s backstage places
‘We’ll vote about it…now’, said Black.
And they voted.
The metal spheres came from each Council member to the crystal ball, traveling inside the conduit tubes and then dropping into the crystal ball chamber, from the topside of the chamber. They started to mix in a clockwise direction, and then against the clockwise direction. Since all 7 Council members were present and voting, after the first mix there were 7 seconds of waiting, and then the ball chamber spun again, 7 seconds in each direction, again and again...until.
Until one of the spheres fell into the conduit on the bottom of the crystal ball, traveling via the same tube into a crystal bowl, in the center of the boardroom table. The sphere then opened automatically, to show the red or green light, thus answering the question that had been put to the vote.
And the answer was green: ‘Yes’, the pregnant women should be sent home.
After the answer, the sphere came again inside the crystal ball, from the bottom, and after a new mix of all the spheres, they came out through the top of the chamber, back into their conduit tubes, which sent them back to their original places, in front of each Council member.
Four of them had voted ‘no’, and only three had voted ‘yes’.
The final answer was ‘yes’.
The Yellow Council member seemed to be relieved as the answer came out, because he was unsure and had changed his answer three times (he voted yes at the end), while Green seemed to be angry. Because most of the times that he voted against something, his vote never seemed to be the chosen one; maybe the Gods were never on his side?
Upset, he started a discussion: ‘and what about parents? Shall their kids see them jumping in the Stadium?’
Purple answered that kids are not allowed in the Stadium, of course; they knew there were some teenagers with fake IDs, but nothing out of normal life.
‘Not allowed in the Stadium…kids’, said Black, as would he be memorizing the sentence.
‘Yes’, said Yellow, ‘but kids can see everything in the media and by using their internet devices, and nobody seems to be worried about it.
‘We cannot be responsible for that; it is their parent’s choice to take part in the game. What about war? Parents also don’t always come back. Kids see about that in the media too. And sometimes, in some countries, there is not even free will to be a soldier, but there is a legal obligation. And here, it is free will. Candidates applied for entry into the game. It is their own decision.’
They didn’t need to vote on this point. Parents could be candidates, of course. They cannot be responsible for what kids see at home, just like governments cannot be responsible if the kids see what happens in the media, when they send their parents into war somewhere. But kids were not allowed inside the Stadium. Of course not. This would be terrible and unacceptable. Some almost 18-year old teenagers with fake IDs were allowed to enter in bars and discos. But kids in the Stadium, no.
Then Green had good news that made them change the subject in the meeting, and inside their minds too.
Metz' creations were selling almost as fast as the kitchen could make them. They had more than 90% of the Stadium ticket-holder’s market. And hardly any of the Game staff were going outside for food anymore. But there was also the outside public, which couldn’t enter the Stadium, increasing day after day; shouldn’t they think about selling Metz’ creations outside, also?
Metz had agreed to stop selling outside when he entered into the agreement to sell his special new creations inside the Stadium.
And they voted about it.
Outside sales, ‘yes, starting with the second game step, provided that persons who pay so much for their seats inside, should have priority rights’.
They were happy with the decision: already having the same amount of public consumers around the Stadium, as inside it, it was good to sell outside too.
‘Very well done’, said the Purple Council member. ‘And the marketing strategy works. Fresh corpses—the freshest meat available anywhere, heheheh! Fresh blood and fresh meat. Metz is not only a good cook, he is a marketing genius, and this is nowadays more than 50% of the food business. Or sometimes even 90%. Without great marketing, you can be the best chef, but all you get at the end is the remainders from your competitors’ garbage pails.’
The Council continued the meeting after taking a break, having gone outside to the food trucks to drink a coffee.
No coffee, Black? Asked Green.
No, said Black. No coffee…no water.
Unexpected…that 12 candidates…were pregnant, including the one that fainted.
They needed to pack their things. Council staffers would ensure they signed another confidentiality agreement about all they saw inside the complexes and the game. It was best that they would sign after dinnertime and be sent home in the early morning, and they would have a special session of neuro-linguistic programming before dinner.
And the departing candidates would also receive a ‘consolation prize’ check with a 5-figure sum; because they would not die so soon; they would need some money to keep living, and to take care of their kids.
Numbers 4957, 7821, 3287, 5432, 1452, 1473, 0061, 2982, 7011, 6253, 4216, 1045.
All were out of the competition.
The Council noticed that most of them already jumped once and survived, hopefully they would not find some of them among the already dead ones.
On the fourth day there would be three candidates less in the game. ‘Hopefully nobody will notice this sad fact’, said a Council member.
And then, they needed to vote about the diamonds. With that, their work would be done, the major decisions for the second step of the game.
As for the diamonds: Red was against, it was too weird; but all the others, even the Green Council member, voted ‘yes’, because it was simply a great idea, that should be announced soon, in time for the first day of the second step of the Game.
They left the room and forgot to close the door. Alphabot passed by later on, to clean the room.
And closed the door, after he left the room.
Some workers, dressed all in black, needed to spend the night working to remove the twelve numbers from all virtual and paper voting tickets and lists, and amending other Game records. The pregnant women, with a new life inside of them, were declared as ‘death’ in the game records.
Chapter 10
Candidate 4918 - Sarah Mondstein
It was a cold night. Sarah woke up and covered herself, but she had caught a cold anyway. Tall, blond, pale like the moonlight on winter nights, she went to work the next morning, also with a cold.
She walked around the office to her desk, with Aspirin, lemon, anti-inflammatory medicines, ginger, honey and maybe even antibiotics, who could tell what was in her collection?
Her stock of potions looked almost as impressive as that of a small pharmacy. She had all this inside her bag, and she put it all over the desk; she had stopped at the pharmacy and another small store on the way to work, to get what she thought she needed for her cold.
The man who worked in the pharmacy was one of her usual lovers, so she could buy anything from him, all without prescription.
Money, charm and a blond smile, were the tools she used to have all she wanted in life. She made a cup of tea, took her medicaments, and decided that she should feel better soon.
Sarah grew up with her parents, but her mother died as she was turning 14. Her father was absent. Her relationships were doomed to disaster even before they started. She used to fall in love in a way that turned defects into qualities in the first days (or nights), and then her lovers’ good qualities would become fundamental and fatal character faults, after a while.
She was bored, bore
d about not finding the perfect lover, or (from comments she had heard) maybe not being one. Bored with making excuses to herself about their age, inches, and the very real fears and traumas of each lover she captured.
She didn’t have time for her own fears and therefore, in her mind, this justified her not caring about other persons’ feelings.
After the first or second time making love with her lovers, her boredom with them would start to set in, and then she felt sick, so she would sink into the bath tub and rub her skin to take their smell away, hoping to erase her memories, along with her own wishes and desires, down the drain, faraway from her daily life.
Sarah would see the pharmacy guy, again, but only for small talk; her coldness was overtaking her now, so he would soon see that her apparent beauty and warmth was an illusion, as clear and icy cold as her touch would soon feel to him.
Maybe the next time she would send her Personal Assistant, Anna, to the pharmacy, who as the inheritor of her old computer, out of season clothes and last mobile phone model, was also happy to date some of her ex-lovers sometimes, trying to be like her.
Sarah called it recycling. It was good for the work environment.
Sarah became very successful creating avatars and destinations for Second Life. So much success she had, in her business life: her avatars were touching, strong, hard, funny and lovely at the same time and persons loved the destination places she made; but she did not know how to touch someone intimately, in a caring way, and she certainly did not like to sleep close together, whether or not they made love.
She typically vomited out her lovers on the second or third date, in the same way that she would sometimes vomit her food after lunch or dinner to keep her figure.
This was her drug, the eternal search and unsatisfied hunger, with control over herself, and only herself, being her only real dream.
Searching for something that could satisfy her hunger, the pursuit of something she already knew was unknown to her…this was her drug, and the dream she lived.
She lived on the catwalk of life without looking around and really seeing anything, walking over the cold ice of lonely nights without really feeling anything, searching for warmth inside her fancy clothes as if they would reflect her biological body heat and then deliver to her, as a complete whole, the designer shards and shadows of her own dreams.
And this was how she was.
Until the first time she entered the door of ‘Update’.
She had heard about it. ‘Update’ was an insider tip, a ‘must do it’ for singles. And she thought that it would be exactly the right thing for her.
She was excited, it was exactly was she was looking for, she thought the first time she was filling out the Update forms.
It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a normal blind date.
And it wasn’t an arrangement made by her friends where she needed to spend the morning or sometimes until lunchtime with more or less idiots, and note a phone number she would never call again, hearing the two most stupid questions that all men ask, but that still are the most stupid questions that a man could make:
Did you like? Did you come?
As would a man not know how good or bad he has been, or that a woman would answer always ‘yes’ to both, to be polite, saying the truth only if she would be inside a serious relationship were they could speak openly about all…or answering ‘no’ and making it all worse than it was, in case she wanted to hurt him.
Update was the right place for her.
The form was easy to fill out. Just tick any or all of the boxes next to your preferences.
Gender: Male.
Body Type: Athlete.
Ectomorph or Mesomorph: she ticked both boxes.
Primary Racial features: Caucasian.
Secondary Racial features: no preference.
Activity? Here she could check any of about 50 boxes. Heterosexual. Oral. Vaginal sex. Hard core. But not rough.
Perfume for him: L’Eau par Kenzo pour homme.
Her perfume: Dolce & Gabbana pour femme.
Safety: she ticked the ‘no disease’ box.
The form required her to authorize a quick blood test that would be discreetly administered by the Update administrators before her first ‘update’.
After a few days, they called her. She had an ‘update’ scheduled.
She entered the dark room and walked to the bed.
He was already there, she couldn’t see him in detail, there was enough light to see the form of things, but not enough to recognize someone. She could see him as would he be a shadow figure and she felt his presence and perfume in the room.
He came closer to her and his hand touched her shoulder, pulling her closer to him, fast and unexpected.
His lips sliding over her neck, he whispered something.
‘Princess…’
Like a cold shower running over her skin…She had crossed ‘hardcore’, and he whispered…princess?
This was overwhelming. She thought about leaving the room and complaining about it, going one step back; but he pulled her closer to him, holding her hair together inside his hand, pulling her head into a kiss…it was…intense.
It was a mixture between sex and romantic, as would she break all her barriers and fears, and suddenly she couldn’t stop or think about it, she lost her barriers and discovered how…how to touch a man, how to feel.
It was, as would all she was looking for be there, in front of her. Inside a dark room, a hormonal update with a stranger.
On her second update, she decided to cross something more romantic, because she liked to hear him whispering into her ears and thought maybe that was a reason to like the situation, of course, and not him as a person. She wouldn’t fall in love with a complete stranger.
She entered the room and her soul was thirsty to hear the same voice again…and it was…his voice…the same man. In a more romantic situation. And she loved it.
On the third update, she did not know what boxes to tick or cross. She was afraid to cross something he disliked and also afraid that maybe he did not like to have been with her a second time, so he would change his preferences on the forms, to not meet her again.
She was scared as she entered the room.
Her legs were feeling weak, her head turning in circles. She did not know if she could stay, but she was too afraid and too dizzy to run away.
But he came closer; it was the same perfume…he touched her face, and what sounded like the same voice, whispered into her heart and ears… ‘Princess’.
Some persons fall in love first and have sex after the third date.
Some persons have sex first and break their hearts because it wasn’t what they expected it to be.
Some persons never seem to be in love and others are always into it.
Sarah felt completely in love on her third update.
And this was so overwhelming for her that she did not know how to deal with the situation.
She did not know his name, phone number or address, or where he worked, or what he thought about life.
All she knew was how it was to feel his skin under her hands and how it felt to be close to him. And to stay there, without the wish to leave. To feel his skin close to her and hear his voice whispering things into her heart’s ear.
She asked at the entrance of Update who he was, but all client details were private and confidential.
Not even her money could help her to find more information about him.
All she could do was to schedule a next update and then, maybe ask him his name? If he would be there again? If he would tell her who he was? If he would like to meet her outside of there?
She had a bad headache and sent Anna to the pharmacy to get something for her. Anna was happy to meet the Pharmacy guy, they were dating. She brought her something. But it did not help her. She couldn’t take him out of her mind. Not even a hot bath helped her.
So, she scheduled a new update. The room was dark. The perfume was the same one
she crossed in the Update forms, but the man was another one.
It was someone else.
Sarah went back home, sick and broken.
Then she tried again; but again, it wasn’t him.
Maybe on the third try?
It wasn’t him again.
Sure that she would never see him again; she figured out that she had nothing more to lose. Because she already lost everything she had found.
To fall in love, for the first time in her life, give herself to a stranger and never see him again, was too much for her already broken soul. She couldn’t go back to the life she had before, but she also couldn’t move on.
She was asymmetric before she met him, but she did not realize it; she was used to being asymmetric. It was something intense and new for her to feel complete.
She was complete inside a dark room with a stranger, and now she was feeling asymmetric again; conscious about the emptiness in her life, she felt hurt in a full way, as would part of her body have been taken away. As would something have cut her body in two, with her being conscious and alive.
All of that was incomprehensible for her. To realize that also she, not just others, could have real feelings; deep incomprehensible feelings, which she could not fulfill in the normal ways she used to fulfill her basic needs.
She couldn’t live this way of life. And couldn’t go back to the way she used to live before.
She was trying to be practical and realistic about her situation.
Without the courage to kill herself, Sarah decided to jump into the Suicide Game.
Chapter 11
Step 1 - Day 4
