He closed his eyes, ready for it all to end.
But it didn’t.
He opened one eye. The laser was millimetres from his nose … frozen.
‘This isn’t real!’
A figure stepped over the beam, its boots coming down beside Hall’s head. Big, chunky boots. Field Marshal Maheera was looming over him.
‘On your feet, soldier.’
‘What? How?’ stammered Hall, jumping up. ‘I don’t even know how I got here. Or why I’m my game avatar. And –’
‘This is a virtual environment,’ explained Maheera. ‘You appear as your game avatar because that’s what you want to look like. In here, you can be anything you want.’
As if to prove the point, Maheera morphed into a giant red kitten, still with medals and ribbons on her furry chest. She purred, then changed back into herself.
‘You can do the same,’ she said. ‘You just need to think it. You can also control the environment to a certain extent.’
Their surroundings glitched.
‘Are you doing that?’ asked Hall.
‘No. You are.’
The environment hiccuped, faltered and shook. The laser beam moved a couple of centimetres closer and froze again. Hall stepped over it.
‘I did this?’ Hall thought for a moment. ‘If this is a virtual environment, then where am I? Really?’
‘Make your way out of here and you’ll find out,’ said Maheera, stepping back.
‘How?’
‘Beat it. Break it! Control it, soldier.’ She was bellowing like a drill sergeant. ‘Do whatever it takes. Play the game!’
Maheera suddenly glitched, her face pixelating and stretching.
‘What’s up with you?’ asked Hall.
‘I’ve been hacked into this game. I’m not supposed to be here. It’s only a matter of time before they regain control and I’ll have to exit.’
‘They?’ asked Hall, anxiety rising. ‘Who’s they?’
‘The machines.’ And then she was gone.
The machines? Did she mean Siggy?
He didn’t have time to contemplate this revelation. The laser beams were on the move again, three new ones racing towards him. Even in his HallsOfAwesome guise, could he deal with this?
HallsOfAwesome?
No! He was just plain old Hall. Hall Gatwick. Twelve years old. Short, unfit and a little chubby.
POP!
The avatar was gone, replaced by the real Hall. The real Hall in a virtual world. A fake world. A world that he needed to get out of.
Hall jumped and ducked to avoid the oncoming beams.
Three new beams now approached – one high, one low, and the third wavering up and down between them.
This is getting too hard, Hall thought.
It was time to test out what Maheera had told him.
How much can I control?
Concentrating on the lasers, he tried to stop them. They seemed to slow a bit, but kept on coming. Giving up on that approach, he leaned forward and fell, thinking hard about floating as he did so.
It worked.
As he toppled, Hall’s feet lifted up off the ground until he was floating horizontally. He sucked in his tummy and then floated up and down, easily avoiding the beams.
Now he needed to stop them and get out of this place.
But how?
And then he had it. Mirrors! That’s what he needed.
As beams passed above and below, he twirled through the air and concentrated.
He landed. His clothing was now different. Very different. He was covered head to toe in tiny mirrors, like some bizarre disco ball.
Hall struck a dance pose, one hand pointing up, the other down, and gave a nod. Disco music filled the air and the floor became a chequerboard of coloured, light-up squares, just like in that daggy film his mum liked so much.
The lasers drew closer but he stood his ground.
Hall watched as the deadly beams of light streaked towards him, hoping his plan would work.
Three lasers hit simultaneously.
White-hot light reflected off the mirrors, the beams bouncing in all directions. Explosions detonated in the darkness, sparks raining down on Hall.
Light flared and flickered.
The music distorted.
Alarms whined.
The grid winked out of existence.
Everything disappeared!
Hall opened his eyes with a start.
He was in a dimly lit, pokey room, lying on a bed. He sat up.
He was alone.
The room was ordinary. There was an old table with a couple of chairs, a sink, a kitchen bench and an armchair. He was expecting something more sci-fi. Some hi-tech computer equipment, at least. And some sort of VR gear that could explain his experience in the virtual games. But there was nothing.
He swung his legs over the end of the bed. Standing up, he stumbled with grogginess. Hall took a long, deep breath to steady himself, then walked to the window.
This is more like it, he thought. This is proper sci-fi.
He was up high – very high! Outside was an amazing night-time cityscape of winking lights, gleaming neon and a mishmash of buildings – everything from glittering glass towers to brick and concrete monstrosities.
Hall stared off into the distance, a vague yearning at the back of his mind. For what? Home?
The door opened and Hall whirled around.
A robot entered.
Okay, Hall thought, this is more sci-fi!
It was one of the weirdest things Hall had ever seen. A metal frame on wheels, filled with medical equipment. A flat screen was attached to the top of the frame. As the machine trundled into the room, the screen flickered into life.
‘Please stay calm and return to your bed,’ said a computer-generated face on the screen.
Hall stared. The face was poorly animated and wore an old-fashioned nurses’ cap, but with a blue cross instead of red. With a buzzing sound, a mechanical arm holding a syringe filled with a luminous aquamarine substance extended from the framework towards Hall.
‘It is time for your medicine,’ said the CGI nurse.
‘Ah, no thanks,’ said Hall, edging away from the robot, eyes glued on the syringe.
‘It is for your own good,’ said the nurse in a reassuring voice. ‘It will help you sleep and play.’
The mechanical arm darted forward, the needle aiming for Hall’s arm. Panic rising, he sidestepped it, continuing to move away from the robot.
‘I really must insist,’ said the nurse, as the robot rotated to again stab at Hall. ‘For the good of the game.’
The robot was between him and the door, so Hall ducked behind the table and chairs. ‘What are these games?’ he asked, desperately hoping that if he kept the thing talking, it might stop trying to jab him.
‘The games are what matter. The games are fun. The games are life.’
‘I think I’ll pass,’ said Hall. ‘I don’t feel like playing just now.’
The mechanical arm retracted. Hall thought he was safe, until a metal tube rose up from the wiring. Adrenaline kicked in and he moved just in time to avoid the dart that shot towards him with a hiss.
I’ll never get out of this if I don’t do something, Hall thought.
He picked up a chair and threw it at the robot, smashing the screen from the frame.
That should do it.
‘Self-defence mode, activated,’ said the nurse’s voice, now distorted and raspy.
The robot seemed to collapse in on itself, the frame folding down to half its original size. A disc extended from its top, looking a bit like a metal frisbee. It began to spin.
Hall had a bad feeling about this. He ducked down under the table and tried to position the second chair as a shield by pulling it onto its side.
ZING! ZING! ZING! ZING! ZING!
Razor-sharp metal stars zipped from the disc, flying in all direction, cutting through furniture and walls.
Yikes!
; Hall flattened himself to the floor in desperation, facedown. His lips and nose smooshed into the threadbare carpet.
I don’t want to die like this, I don’t want to die like this, he kept thinking.
‘Stage one complete,’ said the robot. ‘Commencing stage two.’
The robot exploded in a puff of smoke and sparks.
Hall raised his head in astonishment. ‘That was stage two?’ he said, spitting carpet fluff.
‘No,’ said Maheera, standing in the doorway, with her futuristic ray gun. ‘That was me coming to your rescue, soldier.’
She stalked into the room and, reaching down, yanked something off the back of Hall’s neck.
‘Ow!’
She held it out to him. It was a green patch, about the size of a one dollar coin, with tiny circuit board patterns across the surface. The opposite side was covered in thin needles, blood dripping from them.
‘What is that?’ asked Hall, rubbing his neck.
‘It’s a Link.’
‘Huh?’
‘This is how you get into the virtual environment,’ explained Maheera. ‘It’s like a wi-fi connection directly to your brain.’ She pocketed the patch and turned. ‘Come on.’
Hall scrambled up and followed.
She led Hall along a long corridor with door after door on either side.
‘Are those rooms like the one I was in?’ asked Hall.
‘Affirmative,’ answered Maheera, stopping to shoulder open one of the doors. Hall saw a room very much like the one he had been in. There was a teenage girl lying on the bed, eyes closed.
Hall rushed to the next door and opened it. He was greeted by a similar scene. He went on, from one door to the next with mounting horror.
‘Each one has a person connected to the game,’ explained Maheera. ‘Some being tested like you. Some actually playing.’
Maheera headed for the stairwell.
‘Wait!’ shouted Hall. ‘Aren’t we going to help them?’
‘Negative,’ Maheera said over her shoulder.
‘We can’t just leave them,’ pleaded Hall. ‘We’ve got to do something.’
‘There are 96 floors in this building and each floor has 35 rooms. And this building is just one of dozens. We do not have the resources to help them.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Hall, his panic returning. ‘Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here?’
‘You were captured by the robots and brought here to assess your suitability for playing. But now is not the time for questions and answers.’
Maheera entered the stairwell and, to Hall’s surprise, she headed up the stairs.
‘Aren’t we getting out of here?’ called Hall.
‘Affirmative.’ She continued up.
Hall hated stairs. Even the ones back home that led to his room. Escalators were more his style. Elevators were even better. And as much as he hated all stairs, up or down, going up was worse. Maheera quickly left him behind.
Five floors up, Hall heard a door opening and closing. Maheera must have reached the top. He stopped and gazed up, but couldn’t see the end. How many floors are there?
‘Ten floors to go,’ said Siggy, coming up behind him.
‘What … what are you doing here?’ asked Hall breathlessly.
‘Helping you.’
‘But you’re a robot.’ Hall remembered what Maheera had said about him being captured by robots. Were the other kids captured by robots … by creatures like Siggy? Hall felt his anger rising. ‘Well?’
Siggy stared down at his hands, at the metal plates that were his skin, turning them over slowly. ‘Yeah. I guess I am.’ He looked at Hall, confusion on his metal face. ‘Sometimes I forget.’
‘You forget?’ Hall whispered, his anger draining away. How could someone forget he was a robot?
‘I forget a lot of things,’ said Siggy, shaking his head and heading up the stairs. ‘But I do remember that I need to get you out of here. I need to keep you safe. Follow me.’
Hall watched Siggy and wondered if he should be trusting the mechanical boy. Then again … should he be trusting Maheera?
‘You better hurry up,’ Siggy called back. ‘If you stay still too long, the robo-roaches might attack.’
With a yelp, Hall went on.
Five floors later he had to stop to catch his breath, eyes darting about, watching the shadows for robot bugs.
‘Keep going.’ Siggy’s voice drifted down from above. ‘Almost there.’ He was sounding extra cheery, like one of those super-fake motivational speakers on YouTube. ‘You can do it.’
‘Not helping,’ grumbled Hall.
Exhausted, he eventually reached the top of the stairwell. There was no sign of Siggy. Weird!
Hall shoved the door open and went out into the night. Maheera stood to attention at one side, not in the slightest bit ruffled.
The roof was a flat expanse with a massive satellite dish, a water tank and a couple of rusted extractor fans. The drizzle had increased to a steady rain, making the lights of the city flare.
‘Now what?’ Hall put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area.
Maheera glared at him, and for just a moment, Hall had the worrying thought that she had brought him up here just to throw him off the edge.
But then a car landed on the roof.
Hall goggled.
It’s a flying car, his mind screamed in excitement. I’m going to ride in a flying car!
He rushed over to the vehicle.
On closer inspection, the car was perhaps not quite as amazing as Hall first thought. It was a bit old and beaten up, large spots of rust showing through its dirty grey exterior, its red stripes faded. It had wheels as well as jets and dark tinted windows.
The doors swished up with a hiss.
Proper sci-fi, thought Hall.
Maheera pushed past him and got in. Hall followed.
The doors swished shut. There didn’t appear to be a driver.
With a lurch, the car launched into the dark sky above the city.
‘Whoa!’ called Hall, fumbling for his seatbelt. ‘Who’s driving this thing?’
‘Auto-pilot,’ answered Maheera. ‘Standard issue.’
Hall pressed his hands to the darkened window and tried to see out. Everything was rain-spattered darkness. There were lights below, but he couldn’t see anything else. And then, in the distance, he caught sight of … something.
A glow. A bright spot in the dark night. Far away.
Hall drew in a sharp breath as something took hold of his insides and tugged. That light! That’s where he wanted to go … needed to go. But why? All of a sudden, he thought of home.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Maheera, a little too quickly.
‘It’s not nothing,’ insisted Hall. ‘I can see it. It’s got to be something.’
‘In the military, things work on a need-to-know basis,’ barked Maheera. ‘And you don’t need to know.’
‘Jeez, lighten up,’ said Hall. ‘It was just a question.’
‘Soldiers do not question their superior officers,’ she snapped.
‘Yeah, well … I’m not a soldier.’ Hall took a deep breath and released it noisily. ‘So, I suppose we’re not going to this place I don’t need to know about?’
The Field Marshal didn’t answer.
The car veered to one side and Hall lost sight of the glow, the odd feeling subsiding.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Hall.
‘You will be fully briefed upon arrival,’ assured Maheera.
Hall’s inability to get any useful information was both irritating and agitating. His unease grew and he spent the next few minutes trying to remain calm.
Since coming through the doorway, everything had been go, go, go. This was the first chance he’d had to think about things. And now that he was thinking, he was getting more and more freaked out.
He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and tried to stop his leg
from jiggling.
What was this world he’d stepped into? He was pretty sure this wasn’t a game, after all. Was it one of these worlds that the OTHER WORLDS website had talked about? Had trying out the VR game in PlayTime somehow opened a doorway? Was it the weirdly realistic iPad inside the VR environment?
Questions! Questions! And more questions!
But no answers.
He tried to run through the sequence of events in his mind. The real world. The VR game environment. A doorway. This other world. Then more virtual worlds. And now back here. It was like worlds within worlds … games within games. His head ached trying to come to terms with it. It just didn’t make any sense!
He bit his lip, then glanced at the Field Marshal from the corner of his eye. She sat at attention, eyes forward, face impassive, red uniform crisp and unmarked.
Why was everyone after him? What did they want? And most importantly, how was he going to get out of here? How was he going to get home?
Hall spent a lot of his time at home avoiding his parents by playing games. But right now … he missed them. He wanted them here, fixing this, making everything better. He wanted his mum to march in and yell at him to get off the computer … and take him home.
Home!
What had the website said about returning? Something about finding your own way? How was he supposed to do that? Where would he even start? Perhaps at that spot of light in the distance? But how would he get there?
Hall felt his emotions getting the better of him, his eyes tearing up.
The car banked sharply. Despite the seatbelt, Hall found himself pressed up against the door.
Then it veered in the other direction and he was jolted towards Maheera. She shoved him away and twisted to check out the back window. Hall followed her gaze.
They were being chased by …
Drones?
No.
Birds?
They were being chased by birds. Birds with glowing blue eyes.
They got closer and Hall’s jaw dropped.
The birds were made of metal, blue circles on their wings, making Hall think of wartime bomber planes. Robot birds. Would they drop metal eggs instead of bombs? he wondered.
The car swooped and swerved, but the birds were still on their tail.
Hall watched in horror as one of the creatures landed on the back of the car, its metal claws digging into the car’s body, tearing at the jets.
Game World Page 3
