Game World

by George Ivanoff

  A piece of the darkness fell away, revealing an intense glare. Then another piece broke off. And another.

  Then it all crumbled, like an upturned jigsaw puzzle. The solid darkness giving way to stark white – a bleached-out world of nothingness.

  Hall gasped in a lungful of air, eyes staring wide.

  He saw Bian dangling in a tangle of wires that hung from nothing. And realised he was in the same situation.

  There was a third person. A boy. Younger than him. Ten at most. He too was suspended by wires leading nowhere. But his wires were twisted around him – coiled tightly about his arms and legs; growing from his head, like hair; spewing from his mouth and nose. They were a part of him.

  Hall gasped with realisation. The boy was Siggy. A non-robot version of him. A real human boy.

  ‘Siggy?’ asked Bian.

  ‘You know him too?’ Hall’s surprise was mirrored on Bian’s face.

  ‘Yeah. He’s been sort of helping me along the way,’ she said. ‘Kind of just popping up when no one else was around. But … he was …’

  ‘A robot,’ finished Hall.

  Hall saw Bian yanking and tearing at her wires, pulling herself free. Encouraged by her, he did the same.

  They both dropped to the ground. It too was white, indistinguishable from the rest of their milky surrounds.

  ‘Where are we?’ asked Hall.

  ‘And how do we get out?’ added Bian.

  The boy’s eyes snapped open. He had circuit board pupils. The wires spilled from his mouth, freeing him to speak.

  ‘You can’t leave.’ His voice was not that of a boy. It was old and oh-so-familiar. ‘You must replace me.’

  ‘We want to go home,’ cried Hall. An indistinct shimmer appeared in the whiteness behind the boy, and Hall felt the overwhelming urge to rush to it.

  Is that the way home?

  ‘Yes,’ shouted Bian. ‘Home!’ A second shimmer appeared beside the first and she gasped.

  Another shimmer? wondered Hall. Does Bian also have a doorway?

  The two of them each took a step towards their shimmers.

  ‘NO!’ screeched the boy, in his old man voice.

  He writhed among his wires, hissing and spitting, as if trying to free himself. But the wires tightened.

  The wires that had held Hall and Bian in place earlier, now snaked towards the boy. Circuits and diodes and pieces of metal flew at him from misty nothingness. They encased him, until there was just a large, segmented, metal box lowering to the floor.

  Hall gasped. He knew that box.

  The top portion separated and opened out like doors. Inside, among the mass of wires and circuits was the Prime Minister’s head.

  ‘I will not let you leave,’ he croaked.

  ‘Oh yeah?’ taunted Bian, stepping forward.

  ‘No! Don’t!’ warned Hall.

  ‘What exactly can you do?’ continued Bian, ignoring Hall. ‘You’re just a head in a box.’

  The box opened up with a click and hiss. His wires and tubes fell away as the Prime Minister stood up. He stepped out, his body covered in metal and machinery. With a buzz and a whirr, a gun formed around his extended hand.

  ‘You were saying?’ said the cyborg PM.

  Bian struck a pose. ‘Let’s see how you do against a rocket-launcher,’ she called, waiting expectantly.

  Nothing happened.

  ‘Rocket-launcher!’ she yelled.

  The Prime Minister cackled a dry and humourless laugh. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘You have relinquished control. This entire world is ordered and structured and realised by my Mummy. She will protect me. As she always has.’

  Hall glanced sideways at Bian. She twirled a finger by the side of her head and nodded towards the old cyborg.

  ‘I am not crazy!’ he screeched in a crazed voice. Then, lowering it, he continued. ‘Mummy is the most sophisticated computer in all the multitude of worlds. This is her world, her Game World, and I am her adopted son. When I accidentally stepped into this world, she found, raised and took care of me. She offered me power, so I agreed to stay.’ He paused. ‘Say hello to our guests, Mummy.’

  A middle-aged lady in a floral dress appeared beside the cyborg.

  ‘Greetings, children,’ she said in a maternal voice. ‘I am the Mummy Interface. How may I help you?’

  ‘Let us go home,’ begged Bian.

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ said Mummy, ‘but I cannot do that. If you leave there will be no one to take Junior’s place.’

  Hall looked from Mummy to the Prime Minister. She calls him Junior?

  ‘Why do you need us?’ asked Bian.

  ‘Not you specifically,’ explained Mummy. ‘Someone. Anyone. To take Junior’s place. He is very old now. Old and tired and running out of imagination. It is imagination that keeps this world ticking. Without it, this world is a void with me in the centre of it … all alone …’ She sounded sad. But then her eyes lit up. ‘It does not need to be both of you. One will do. Once one of you takes Junior’s place, they can allow the other to go. If they so choose. But two would be less lonely. Despite all his pretend people and robots and distractions, Junior was always ever so lonely.’

  ‘Pretend people?’ Hall whispered.

  ‘Oh goodness, I thought you would have realised by now,’ said Mummy. ‘Nothing in this world is real, except me and Junior. Everything else is imagination – created for his amusement. And for yours.’

  Realisation hit Hall like a tonne of bricks. This is why things didn’t quite make sense, he thought, why everything seemed a bit unreal. Because it wasn’t real!

  ‘We’ve been hooked up in the wiring ever since we came into this world,’ said Hall.

  Mummy shrugged. ‘How else would you be able to play? How else could I show you all that is possible in this world? The fun. The thrills. The games. How else could I entice you to stay?’

  Hall’s mind tried to cope with the enormity of the situation. This was not at all enticing.

  ‘Now,’ continued Mummy. ‘Are you both staying?’

  Bian shot a pointed glance at Hall.

  ‘No,’ said Hall. ‘We’re both getting out of here.’

  A rasping sound echoed around them.

  Now what? thought Hall.

  Mummy suddenly seemed older, her hair greying and her face wrinkling. Even the pattern on her dress was fading. Her face was full of confusion.

  The Prime Minister’s head lolled to one side, his eyes closed. A string of drool hung from the corner of his mouth as he snored. Siggy the robot boy stood beside him.

  ‘Who are you?’ whispered Hall.

  ‘I’m his subconscious,’ said Siggy, indicating the sleeping old man. ‘I’ve been trying to help you. Warn you. Mummy is trying to trap you here.’

  Mummy’s eyes snapped to the robot boy and the sleeping Prime Minister.

  ‘Don’t listen to her,’ continued Siggy. ‘She can’t –’

  ‘Wake up, Junior,’ screamed Mummy, an edge of desperation in her voice.

  With a snort the Prime Minister’s eyes snapped open and Siggy vanished. ‘Just resting my eyes.’

  Mummy’s wrinkles stretched away, her hair darkened and the dress burst with colour. Two metal boxes materialised from the whiteness. With a hiss and whirr they clicked open. They were filled with wires and tubes.

  ‘I’ve prepared your rooms for you, children,’ said Mummy.

  ‘No,’ said Hall.

  Mummy gritted her teeth but smiled. ‘Please.’

  They stood, eyeing each other. But Mummy and Junior didn’t try forcing them into the boxes. They just stood and waited … hope in their eyes.

  ‘So … aren’t you going to try to throw us into those boxes?’ asked Bian.

  ‘No,’ said Mummy, teeth still clenched. ‘It must be your choice.’

  ‘But I choose to leave,’ said Bian.

  A sharp movement from the PM’s gun stopped her from going anywhere.

  ‘That’s not an option,’ said Mumm
y. ‘The choices are – get into the box, or stay where you are and eventually die.’

  ‘Some choice,’ complained Bian.

  Hall focused his attention on the Prime Minister … or Junior … or Siggy … or whatever his name was.

  ‘How can you do this to us?’ he asked. ‘If you’ve been trapped like this for … for however long you’ve been here? How can you do it to someone else?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice broke. ‘I truly am. It’s just that I want to go home too. I want to see it one last time before I die? I want to remember it?’

  And with those words a third shimmer wavered in the air next to the other two. The Prime Minister gasped and turned towards it.

  ‘No!’ snapped Mummy. ‘Naughty boy! You can’t go until I have a new Junior.’

  The shimmer faded away.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mummy.’ The old man was now sobbing.

  ‘There, there,’ said the woman, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Mummy forgives you.’

  This is insane, thought Hall. Utterly bonkers! How in the world are we going to get out of this?

  ‘Mummy?’ said Bian. ‘Why do you need someone? Why don’t you just let us all go? And run this place yourself?’

  ‘Because, without you, I would just be a computer. A glorified calculating machine, running endless programs. Imagination is what makes me extraordinary. When Junior arrived here, his imagination gave me life. And I took care of him. But now he is dying. And I will not revert to what I was before him. I have no imagination of my own. And his will soon end. So I must use yours. You have so much. You’ve shown that already with what you achieved within the Game World I created for you. Your potential is extraordinary. Just think what I – I mean, we could achieve with your imagination.’

  ‘Well, you can’t have mine,’ said Bian.

  Mummy’s eyes flared with rage.

  Hall thought Bian was about to make a break for her shimmer. He figured it must be calling to her in the same way his was calling to him. But just as she took a step, the PM pointed his gun at her. ‘Mummy wouldn’t like that,’ he said.

  ‘This whole world is imaginary,’ said Hall. ‘Nothing really exists. Not the robots. Not the humans. It’s all just some sort of mega-weird game of Let’s Pretend. A distraction for him.’ He pointed at the PM.

  ‘And for you,’ said Mummy.

  ‘I don’t want to spend my life pretending,’ said Bian.

  ‘Neither do I,’ said Hall.

  ‘But you already do,’ said Mummy sweetly. ‘That is why you are so perfect. You –’ She pointed at Bian. ‘A girl who pretends to be a boy. RandomizarBian. And you –’ She turned to Hall. ‘You spend as much time as you can avoiding real life, pretending not to be you. Don’t you, HallsOfAwesome?’

  Hall and Bian glanced at each other.

  ‘Take Junior’s place and you can be whoever you want to be. Forever.’

  Hall thought he saw something scary in Bian’s eyes – a momentary resignation. Maybe, he thought, this wouldn’t be so bad?

  ‘Imagination doesn’t last forever.’ Robot Siggy was standing beside the PM, whose head lolled to one side again. ‘You can’t avoid being who you are.’

  ‘WAKE UP!’ screeched Mummy, appearing more aged than ever.

  As the PM’s eyes fluttered open, Siggy flickered out of existence. But Mummy’s hair remained grey, her face wrinkled and saggy.

  ‘I do want to be me,’ declared Bian. ‘Even if it’s not what others expect. Even if it’s not what my parents want me to be. I’m Nguyen Thi Bian. Yes, I do have short hair and boys clothes. Yes, I’m interested in computers and games. But that is me! I am Nguyen Thi Bian. And I am proud of who I am.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Hall. ‘I’m Hall Gatwick. I’m short and I’m podgy and I’m not good-looking or strong. But I’m me. And I like who I am.’

  The two shimmers became more distinct. Hall looked at his and saw the VR environment of the game he had been testing at PlayTime.

  ‘That is the way home!’ he whispered. He was certain of that now. Just like the OTHER WORLDS site had said … he had found his doorway home.

  And that must be Bian’s way home, thought Hall, eyes finding the second shimmer. It made sense that if she had come to this world in the same way as him, that they would leave in the same way as well.

  ‘No!’ screamed Mummy. ‘Stay and be more.’

  This world is imaginary. Everything in it is imaginary. Even the computer’s life! And if the computer’s life is imaginary …

  Hall had a plan.

  ‘If I agree to stay,’ he said. ‘You’ll let Bian go?’

  ‘Yes.’ There was eagerness in Mummy’s voice.

  ‘And you’ll let Junior go as well?’

  ‘Yes!’ There was desperation in her voice.

  ‘And I’ll then have complete control of this world?’ continued Hall. ‘I’ll be able to do whatever I want and be whoever I want. Create virtual people to keep me company, games to play and places to visit?’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ cried Mummy. ‘All that and more. I will have life and you will have whatever your heart desires.’

  ‘You wouldn’t try to stop me from doing what my heart desires?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Hall. He physically lurched, having to fight the pull of his doorway.

  ‘What?’ Bian was shocked. ‘You can’t.’

  Hall hoped that he was right about how this world worked.

  ‘Okay,’ repeated Hall. ‘I will stay.’ Although the tugging towards the shimmer was intense, he resisted it and strode to the nearest box.

  ‘No!’ screamed Bian.

  Hall entered the box and sat down. He could feel the wires snaking around him, the tubes attaching themselves. The lower portion of the box clamped shut, leaving just his head to look out.

  ‘Transfer complete,’ cried Mummy.

  The cybernetic attachments disappeared from the Prime Minister. The frail old man collapsed to the floor. The third shimmer reappeared … clear and distinct. The Prime Minister has a doorway too? thought Hall. I guess it makes sense. Sort of.

  Struggling to his hands and knees, the PM crawled towards his shimmer. But his limbs gave out and he collapsed again.

  ‘Help him,’ demanded Hall.

  ‘You help him,’ said Mummy, her physical form fading away. ‘You can now do whatever you want.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Hall. ‘Let’s give this a go. Field Marshal, front and centre.’

  Maheera stepped out of the pallid nothingness.

  ‘Please assist the Prime Minister to the exit.’

  Maheera marched up to the old man and saluted. ‘It has been an honour and a privilege, sir!’ She helped him to his feet.

  ‘My Field Marshal,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘With me to the end.’ He leaned on her for support and she led him to the doorway.

  They were almost there, when the PM collapsed again.

  ‘I need help,’ called Maheera.

  ‘Major Mager, front and centre,’ called Hall.

  The adjutant, a smattering a donut sprinkles still flecking his uniform, marched out of the whiteness to assist his superior officer. Together, the two of them supported the PM to the doorway.

  Hall held his breath, hoping that the first of his assumptions was correct.

  Maheera glanced back at Hall, as if she knew what was about to happen. ‘You are a fine soldier.’

  Hall smiled, a slight lump forming in his throat.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Major Mager. ‘I try my best.’

  Maheera shook her head and sighed as they entered the doorway. She and her adjutant disintegrated, while the old man fell through … the shimmer disappearing behind him.

  Hall let out a sigh. The doorways were just for them. Nothing from this world could leave. It was a relief. And yet, Hall felt sad for the imaginary Field Marshal Maheera. She had served the PM for goodness knows how long, and she had been Hall’s gu
ide through this world too.

  But it was time to move on.

  ‘Now your turn,’ he said to Bian.

  ‘But … I …’

  ‘Just go,’ said Hall. ‘Please. I know what I’m doing. I think.’

  Bian hesitated.

  ‘Trust me,’ said Hall.

  Bian nodded, then sprinted for her doorway. And she was gone, the shimmer disappearing behind her.

  Only his doorway left.

  ‘Okay,’ whispered Hall. ‘Now let’s see if I’m right.’

  He focused his thoughts on his shimmer. Felt its tug. Felt the need to go through. He held onto the thought of home and his family and his friends and his games. Everything.

  His box moved towards the shimmer.

  Hall could see inside it … blue and green.

  ‘No!’ Mummy’s voice screamed from all around. ‘You cannot leave. You are my imagination!’

  ‘Actually,’ said Hall. ‘It’s you who can’t leave. And my imagination is my own.’

  A giant image of Mummy’s face filled the emptiness around him.

  ‘You are connected,’ she bellowed. ‘Wired into me.’

  ‘But I’m now in control,’ said Hall. ‘I can do whatever I want – whatever my heart desires. You said so. That was the deal. And my heart desires to go home.’

  The box moved closer and the shapes within the shimmer became more distinct.

  A huge hand reached out from the whiteness above and tried to grasp the box; stop Hall from going through. But it couldn’t take hold, its fingers fading through the metal.

  ‘You chose to stay,’ screamed Mummy. ‘Just like Junior!’

  ‘No!’ called Hall. ‘Not like Junior at all. He was young and scared when he arrived here. And you took care of him. Gave him everything he wanted … except the freedom to be himself. So he stayed. He chose to stay, because he loved his Mummy. But I don’t have that connection with you. I don’t love you and I have no reason to stay. You tried to trick me into choosing, but I’ve worked it out. You have no control over me. You can’t stop me. I can have anything my heart desires. And my heart desires to go home!’

  Hall had almost reached the doorway, when the Mummy interface blocked his way.

  ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Please stay. We need each other. We can make each other better. Without you, I am ordinary. And you are ordinary without me. But together, we can rule this world.’