Player One Defect Player Two Cooperate
0 5
‘Got you, sucker. I'm disappointed in you.’
I looked back at Janac. Only numbers, but I hated losing.
‘Another round. Let's play it again.’ Once more the screen dissolved and reformed, the boxes and the pay-off table were back.
‘Ok,’ I said slowly, ‘you make your choice first this time.’
‘Trusting aren't you?’
‘Too much time in the city. Go on.’ I heard the click. It was pretty clear what mine had to be. I slid the cursor over to defect and pressed the button. The results popped up immediately:
Player One Defect Player Two Defect
3 3
Janac glanced up, ‘Predictable isn't it? Looking out for number one comes naturally to you Martin.’ he said, with a knowing smile.
‘What the hell am I supposed to do?’ I retorted, ‘the way it's structured the only rational answer is to defect.’
‘That's the point, that's why it's so powerful. It's like life. You're forced out of self-interest into behaviour that is damaging to the common good. The machine got six points out of us then, rather than two, if we had both cooperated. Another round. But this time let's play it properly. Put the wrist and ankle bands on please.’
I looked at the Velcro and copper straps lying on the table next to the mouse.
‘The point score denotes a level of pain, the wrist and ankle bands administer it via an electric shock.’
‘What! Hang on a minute! I'm not into this at all.’ I started up. I should have known.
‘Please,’ Janac's voice was soothing. He remained seated, opening his hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Please, not so much excitement. The shock is a mild one. It's so difficult to think of a worthwhile penalty - to make the game real - like life. You're a player Martin. A troubled one, and this game allows you to test exactly that which is troubling you. Playing the game is not the downside, playing badly is, against what you believe. But for points? Really, where's the value when there is no risk? And money? What value has it? What is money? Nothing, it comes it goes, you've already walked away from what ninety per cent of the world's population would regard as a fortune. But pain, now there's something that we can all relate to equally.’
‘How much pain are we talking about?’
‘I will administer myself the level five punishment, so that you can see the effect for yourself.’
I slowly sat back down and watched as he fastened the wrist and ankle bands and then clicked away on the mouse. There was a final click, a hum and he looked up at me smiling. Then the humming stopped with a cracking phizz sound, and I saw his arm jolt. He gasped briefly and a shadow crossed his face. His eyes flickered and closed and he remained still and silent for a couple of seconds. I breathed out gently, this exercise had at least given me a little time to think. And I didn't think I wanted to get a level five.
I could run through the open doors and back down the track. But I'd been through that loop before. I had no doubt that he could make me play this if he wanted to. And he did want me too. That was why I was here. Wined and dined, sweetened up, lulled into feeling secure - and then this. Same deal. The high stakes play-off. But the stakes weren't that high, yet. I had to tag along, keep him happy, keep it low key, then get clear and run like hell. I wouldn't stop till I was out of Thailand. I glanced at my watch and looked back up.
‘Ok,’ I said in a voice that was intended to betray a certain amount of resignation, but not too much - yes, I will play your childish game, I wanted to say, to please you. It's not the pain that bothers me, just the pointlessness of it, ‘Ok, I have a dinner engagement tonight that I should leave for soon, I would hate to be late. But I'll play a couple of rounds with you first - then I must head back.’
Janac nodded, unsmiling, but he looked satisfied, ‘All right. Make your choice.’
I dragged the cursor across to defect, and clicked.
The machine whirred and ticked and up came the result. Two defects. A level three. Then the phizz sound, I flinched protectively and jerked my arm involuntarily as the charge shot through it. For a second the universe exploded in a sensation of pure pain. It faded slowly, translating into a buzz of colour and feeling. ‘Fuck.’ I whispered. I could barely make Janac out through watering eyes.
Janac sat with a fixed smile, ‘Please, I thought you were made of a little sterner stuff than that.’ The words were brave, but his face was flushed. Another blast coming so soon after the first hit must've taken something out of him.
‘That was a level three?’ I said.
‘Sure. That was good though, Martin, I was worried you might have another go at being a nice guy. But you won't will you? Let's play it again.’ His voice was firmer now.
I took a deep breath. This was crazy. I had to defect. So did he, but I wasn't sure I could take another shock like that. But I couldn't believe he would ever cooperate. And even if he did, I was still better off defecting. It was insane, we'd both get another level three. Insane but...there was no other rational choice. I clicked defect. Reflexively tensing, muscles singing out. I barely heard the machine this time. I saw the two defects come up and tried to shut down my senses. There was a couple of seconds that seemed like hours and then....
This time I didn't even manage a yell, the pain shot through me and I just gasped, frozen in my seat. I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep, deep breath and waited, slowly, but so slowly the pain subsided. It was much worse. The pain had gone higher and had lasted longer. A whole world of hurt. I stayed slumped in my chair, eyes closed, trying to recover my breath, the aftershock echoing through my body.
‘Wonderful,’ it was Janac, his voice hoarse with pain, he was hurting too, ‘Everybody does it. No matter how moral they think they are the bastards always try to look after themselves. You've just proved it. Civilisation, acting for the group interest, is forced on us. But that's not the natural response, when it comes down to it, we would all prefer to act selfishly. The world would fall apart if we weren't forced to cooperate with society.’ I looked up, there was triumph in his face, even through the pain, ‘Power Martin, enforcing control, that's all that counts. The job of Governments is to punish defectors. But remember - you're above that, you're a player, a defector, don't let that go.’ His face was flushed, delighted by his proof of man's selfish inhumanity. ‘One more time.’ he said, and I heard the mouse scrape and the button click.
I stared across at him. There was no question, he would never cooperate. He would sit there and take level three shots till he died, rather than believe there was any other way. And he thought we were all like him. That I was like him. I trembled as I realised what I had to do. I had to show him I was different. Maybe it would break me free. I dragged the cursor over to Cooperate and, heart pounding, vision already blurred with pain and sweat, I clicked.
I remember the first flash. Then nothing. It all exploded, blazing out in a starburst of white hot light. I think I came to quickly, survival instinct helping consciousness struggle through. The jolt had flung me backwards off the chair. Giddy with pain and nausea, I recognised the ceiling, I had to be lying down. I tried to figure out where my limbs were. It was as though all the nerves and muscles had overloaded. There were no signals coming in, my brain couldn't figure out what was where, which muscles needed to pull and which to push to get myself upright. I knew I had to get up, to get away. But nothing would respond. I struggled and collapsed. I heard Janac's dry laugh, getting fainter. I felt it slipping away again.
The second time I came-to with a start, the cold splash of water on my face. I shook my head, sitting up quickly. Startled, staring around, trying to work out where I was, what was happening. Then I saw Janac, standing over me, hands on hips, face calm, with its cynical half-smile, back in control. The pain was still coming in waves, each one making me nauseous, but I could feel my legs and arms now, work my body. I struggled and rose, uncertainly, to my feet. I stood for a second or
two, still dazed, still hurting, but aware. I swallowed heavily, and struggled to pull the copper bands off with thick, unwieldy fingers. Finally free of them I looked up.
Janac had moved away from me, towards the door, ‘You disappoint me Martin, and intrigue me. But I guess that's another round to me. Good job I had the level set as low as possible. You looked like you were hurting there.’
I choked. I'd felt like I was dying. ‘You can scale the pain level up?’ I said in a crackly voice.
‘Of course,’ he replied, turning and moving towards the back of the house and the car.
‘How high does it go?’ I croaked, hobbling after him, sure now that I could get away, that this was the end of the game. Maybe it had worked.
‘In the U.S. they recommend an electric chair voltage of two thousand six hundred and forty volts ac. Two thousand should be enough but if you want to be sure, and being sure is humane in their books, then go for the extra six forty on top. You have to be careful about the current, if it gets above five amps it tends to cook the flesh off the body, very messy when you want to move it afterwards. My system will deliver that, at maximum on a level five. Of course at that point death is almost instantaneous, which isn't really the idea. But the electrode connections are probably inefficient enough to cause sufficient pain and burning.’
I could feel a lightness come over me, as though my mind was detaching from my body, Janac's voice was growing distant.
He glanced over his shoulder as he moved into the sunlight bursting through the outside door, ‘You know it only takes thirty one cents of electricity to kill a man?’
My heart had stopped. All the muscles seemed incapable of movement, except my shaking hands. My throat had dried, I tried to swallow, to move forward towards the door and the sunlight, the waiting car. ‘Kill a man.’ I croaked.
Janac was on the veranda now, he turned to face me, that cynical, half-amused smile drifting across his face, ‘Sure, that's when it gets interesting, when there is something of true value at stake - life itself. Physical pain is one thing, at high enough levels it's unpleasant of course, but the real agony is in the mind. That's why it's so important to understand the mind, to know what does and does not inflict pain. The fear of death inflicts such pain in most people, and interestingly enough the fear of the death of a loved one is nearly as strong.’
‘Is that what you learned from your books?’ I said, in the same strangled voice.
‘Yes,’ he replied, turning the grey eyes on me, ‘of course, I don't often get people to play for those stakes.’ He stopped by the car and turned, smiling, flashing those yellow teeth, in an open, disarming way. But I had caught the implication only too well. ‘My man will take you home. Thanks for your company.’ He paused. ‘And think about my offer Martin. We will make it worth your while.’
‘No, no, I'm sorry. No way.’ the words stumbled out involuntarily.
Something flashed across his face, but it was gone before I could recognise it, the smile was back, ‘Well, here's to the next round of the game.’ He extended his hand and I took it, briefly, my arm still tingling horribly.
I nodded agreement, forcing a smile, and thought: in your dreams buddy, I'm out of your life.
Chapter 6
I felt as though I had just escaped from Death Row as the car bumped back down the mountain. I sat in the back seat in silence. I had no desire to talk to the driver. I had to get off this island. Finally the car lurched back into the resort drive and drew to a dusty stop. I jumped out and headed for the bar. I ordered a double mekong and coke and sat down heavily in my chair, I was still shaking. Suchit brought the drink.
‘Some friend of yours come here this afternoon, want to meet you later.’
‘Friends, here? Who?’
He fumbled in a pocket and pulled out a flimsy piece of paper. I grabbed at it, 'Dear Martin,' I read, 'So surprised and pleased to get your message. Sorry I missed you, but love to meet with you, perhaps we could have dinner at our hotel tonight? Meet about six for a drink first? Call me if there is a problem, number's on the letterhead, room 318. Lots of love, Kate.'
A friendly message, more than I could have hoped for. I was conscious of the irrepressible and ridiculous grin I had developed. Janac was temporarily forgotten. I read the note again and looked at my watch, it was already quarter past five. I wanted to see her. Badly. But then, Janac...
‘Suchit, are there any more planes or boats today?’
‘To mainland?’
‘To anywhere.’
He shook his head, ‘No, tomorrow.’
I nodded, that settled it. If he came looking for me, it would be here. I'd be better off at Kate's hotel this evening. Get back late, leave early.
I downed the drink in one go and headed over to my room. I took a quick shower and threw on a clean-ish pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I dug the keys to the bike I had hired out of my bag. I retrieved money and credit cards from their hiding spot under a rock in the corner and went back out. I climbed on the bike and kicked it into life. It started with unusual ease. I flicked it into gear, blipped the throttle, dropped the clutch and was gone.
It was five past when I pulled up outside the hotel. The shower had been a complete waste of time, I was covered in dust again. I found the courtesy phone and dialled up to room 318. Kate picked it up.
‘Kate, it's Martin.’
‘Martin, where are you?’
It was that voice again, three years on and it already had my heart pounding, ‘I'm in the lobby.’
‘We'll be right down.’ she said confidently.
I paced around impatiently, checked myself in the mirror a couple of times, tried to brush the dust off, paced around some more. How was I going to feel when I saw her for real?
‘Martin?’
I spun round and there she was. I stepped forward into her arms and held on tight for a long couple of seconds. But she was tense and all too quickly started to pull away. I let go unwillingly, stepping back and taking in the slim figure, dressed simply in jeans and a strapless top, no make-up and of course, the characteristically bare feet, ‘As beautiful as ever.’ I said quietly.
She laughed, a little nervously now, ‘You haven't changed at all!’ She turned to the man accompanying her, ‘Martin, this is Scott.’
I turned to face him. Three years on and she was still with him. He was two or three inches shorter than me, but stocky, with a shock of jet black hair and a beard so closely cropped it was almost stubble. Slowly I held out a hand, he took it brusquely, and shook with a firm grasp and pumping action.
He spoke to Kate, ‘I just have to check for messages, why don't you go through to the bar. Mine's a beer.’ and he turned and left.
I watched him go as I tried to think of something safe to say. Finally, I turned back to Kate, ‘This is one hell of a coincidence, what are you doing here?’
She looked distracted, a hand brushed away imaginary hair from her eyes, but slowly she smiled, transforming her whole person, ‘I was going to ask you the same thing, but let's get that drink first, hey? It's this way.’ She led me into the bar. It was expensively decorated with hardwood furnishings that were a little too heavy for my taste. It had an in-your-face opulence that I wouldn't have thought Kate would go for. I followed her towards a table for four in the corner. I sat down opposite, leaving the seat beside her for Scott.
‘So, how did you know we were here?’ she started quickly.
‘That's easy, I saw you in the market, but you hopped into the hotel's courtesy bus before I had a chance to get over to you. It was simple enough to find out about the hotel, then I just phoned up and left a message.’ I looked up to see a waiter patiently waiting for an order.
‘Scott will have a beer, mine's a coke.’ said Kate.
‘Make that two beers and a coke then please.’ I said.
The waiter nodded and disappeared as quietly as he had arrived.
I looked at Kate in silence, she stared down, spinning a ring on her right
hand with the thumb and index finger of her left. ‘I missed the way you play with that ring when you're nervous.’ I said.
She looked up, eyebrows raised, a half smile, ‘Yeah, well I'd smoke but I couldn't handle you and Scott giving me a hard time.’
I smiled, ‘It's good to see you Kate.’ I said slowly, ‘I wasn't sure if you'd call, I wasn't too, er,’ I looked away, and then back, ‘I wasn't too cool when we split up. I'm sorry, I wish I could have dealt with it better.’
‘I don't think either of us did ourselves any favours.’ she said sadly, ‘I suppose we were younger.’ She reached out and gently pulled my hand away from my face, ‘You know, I've missed the way you scratch at that eyebrow when you're nervous.’
I smiled, ‘Fifteen all.’
We both laughed. I realised she was still holding my hand. I caught the blue eyes. There was a sudden awkward silence. And the hand was gone.
I studied her carefully, the rampaging blond hair tumbling over the bare, tanned shoulders. The face that broke your heart. God I'd been so in love with this girl. She hadn't changed much, a few lines around the eyes that I didn't remember. But those lines looked as comfortable being worried as they were laughing. And now they were definitely worried. ‘So where have you been all this time?’ she said.
I looked away.
‘Everyone is frantic, Martin. Your parents phoned half of England trying to track you down. They even managed to get hold of me to find out if I'd heard from you. No one knew where you'd gone.’
‘That was the idea.’ I butted in, a little tersely, ‘I sent a card saying I was ok.’
‘A month later. One postcard from Bangkok, saying you were going 'walkabout'. You were so together Martin, what the hell happened?’
‘Apart from you leaving me?’ I said, and immediately regretted it.
The lips tightened and her eyes closed, as though in pain, ‘That's not fair Martin. I left the life, the place. And anyway it was three years ago, why take off now?’ She glanced over to where Scott was picking his way back towards us through the tables.
The Defector Page 6
