Slipdrift (VayneLine)

by E. A. Szabelski

  “Well, anyone in this round is obviously good. This is my third round, and there is no telling how high I was initially seeded.”

  “Don’t give me that, you can tell who is good,” I shot back to him, switching my scope to thermal. “They have that spark; you know the real ones compared to the merely skilled.”

  “Why do you think I am with you?”

  “Heh, can tell huh?” I liked this alien. I jerked a strap on my rifle to tighten it around my shoulder. “You proposing an alliance?” I lifted an eyebrow to him, but then I caught myself; I doubt it knew what that minor questioning movement meant.

  “Essentially, yes. There are always small teams from people that knew each other. You obviously do not know anyone in this room, and neither do I.”

  “Well, let’s do it then.” In my own mind I knew I could take him if it came down to it for the final win, but elsewhere my mind was warning me he probably thought the exact same thing about taking me down at the end.

  ***

  “You’ve played before, right?” he asked, my nanites translating a degree of concern that what I told him earlier might have been a lie.

  “Yes.” We were being herded into individual release slots into the battlefield. The fear felt distant; the fact that anyone here might kill me with the weapon they now held at their side registered, but did not elicit a response. My mind had to be focused on different matters if I was to make it out of this.

  With my single confirmation of playing he slipped immediately into advanced tactics and terminology. “Double pulse, three marker.” This meant for rapid identification of each other, we were supposed to use two quick blasts of our drift as we dodged around, and we both switched our rifles to shoot markers every third round.

  I responded with, “Contingency, central sweep.” He grunted approval before we were forced apart.

  I sat in the darkness alone. Beyond just being trapped on this planet, the game itself was new for me. I had played free-for-alls before, but I always knew the circumstances: how many players, what weapons, what conditions. Now it was completely random, probably as volatile as possible for the savage fan.

  Damn. I had checked my rifle about three separate times, making sure the right mode was selected, waiting for that door to explode open. My drift unit hummed quietly, my legs floating softly off the ground, the pink core the only light in the dark room.

  My heart was beating fast; I had not been this anxious since my first games as a rookie, back when I was scared of getting hurt. The fear of death brought that back.

  “Engage!” A spiral of light flashed off my data bracelet as the door exploded open. My light rifle came to life as I leaned into its heft and launched into the breach.

  The battlefield was always a surprise each time, which was part of what kept it interesting. As soon as I was inside, I executed a hard and fast jump, pulling up with my head until I was rocketing through the air, away from the chaotic initial shots of each person shooting their way out of their own doors.

  Two aliens had thought they did not actually have to participate in the game, visibly throwing their guns down as soon as the game started. They were among the first to get gunned down. I gritted my teeth at seeing someone take them out so mercilessly but kept going.

  A huge glass bubble surrounded the sides and top of the battlefield; almost always it was a one-way material, but at set intervals the material would manually change to provide a view of the outside. The battlefield was huge, the height alone was probably about 25-30 stories high; I could get to the top, but would burn all my drift doing so. To see the watchers fade in and out of view was a new experience. Their greedy faces and their slimy credits they had bet on who would slay the rest of their once-comrades to achieve victory just pissed me off.

  The environment was circular, with a square of pillars taking up a majority of the area. The ground appeared to be sand, typical as it made the crashes looking way worse. The pillars were fairly open providing very little obstruction but they still essentially divided the arena in ‘outside skirmishes’, internal battling, and any upper sniping from people on the pillar tops.

  My bracelet softly warned me that this current flight was unsustainable without additional points. I lifted my rifle to aim at one person hiding behind a pillar, engaged on a ground battle before pulling the trigger. The round hit his area, blinding a small radius in an explosion of light. I pumped two more rounds into the blast.

  “+30 drift, +15 rounds~,” my bracelet chimed in a friendly female voice. The drift reward was typical, the number of rounds was pretty high; guess they wanted an explosive-heavy match.

  I jetted back to ground by landing on the top of the pillars, not looking to see if the man I had just put out was left with a body. This spot, while extremely offensive, was also an invitation to get picked off. My eyes glanced rapidly at all the explosions of light across the sand and walls.

  “2…4…1…” I was trying to find the Behemon’s firing pattern, but was seeing others patterns of tracers. Someone on the outside side of the arena lifted their rifle towards me. I stepped forward off the edge to the inside of the battle zone, turning slightly to grab the corner with one hand, while my drift used only a small amount of its regulated power holding me here.

  It was an old trick used to temporarily deceive, depending on the skill of the players; they wouldn’t look for a non-moving, non-ground figure. I needed to size up the competition fast while I hung here in the light cover.

  “Change tracking mode to no markers,” I stated, my bracelet chiming an “okay~” as it took off the tracers my rounds were firing. I gave up on finding the Behemon; I just needed him to survive.

  If what it told me was right, I only had to endure, not triumph. I sat there hanging on the edge, watching some on the ground jet around in front of waves of motion, while others jumped around executing aerial moves dodging and dancing their way to the top. I sat there watching two battle on the top on the pillar, one of them getting hit by a paralyzing round, but when he spilled over the hundred foot edge, his fate was sealed no differently than if he had been killed by a live round.

  Being the only one up there, I lifted my rifle and made the easy shot on the stationary target he had become in his own desire to snipe those below me.

  A dark fear suddenly struck me when I strangely recalled that five people made in, but only three ‘won’. What the hell did that mean?

  “Shit! Status and rank!” I shouted to my bracelet.

  “Seven remaining positions, fourth position.”

  No way.

  I pressed off the edge, letting the silence and calmness of the fall envelope me for a moment before I activated my drift, a huge explosion of light coming out from behind me as I dashed towards the ground. I bathed my first target in the light of heaven, coming out of my fast descent with a fast rise much akin to gyro-copters. I cut out my drift and fell a foot to the ground, running to a pillar.

  “Six remaining~”

  One more had to lose.

  I heard some motion on the other side of my pillar. I swung my rifle around and pulled the trigger as I swung my body after it. I came face to face with a man with black hair, and a facial Strive that looked like a sword in its deep black ink on his cheek.

  His countenance was striking, but my first thought was pulling the trigger. We both pulled the trigger, but neither of us were consumed in a blast of light. Instantly we both ran forward to club the other with the rifle: the backup way to put players ‘out’ if you ran out of ammo. As we dashed at each other we both suddenly fell to the floor as our drift units and rifles locked us down.

  “Ah! Come on, what the fuck you doing!?” the guy yelled to someone. My own anger was matched, as I was ready to club him down to advance.

  As I was staring at the sand I realized the game had been over before we tried shooting each other, and the officials locked us down so we didn’t kill someone outside the game. How nice of them.

  That guy was stra
nge. If there was anyone here that might put me out, it would be him. In the single moment of seeing his eyes I knew he had it.

  He had the spark.

  ***

  The Behemon had made it and he was now on his fourth game. We discussed a better plan to meet next time, now that we actually had time to talk down in the dungeon.

  I was sitting there, my head in my knees, wondering about Feylon and if there was any way I would be able to get out of here when I heard someone talking to me. It had been so quiet in the dim dark, minus a small moaning from somewhere further down in levels within the cave; it was so faint it was almost like I was making it up in my own mind. I assumed that’s what it was and ignored it for the time being.

  I cupped my head in my hands and was slowly rocking back and forth against the wall. Time had begun to pass in a perversely quick fashion as the days melted into a constant blur of pain as I never saw natural light to provide any time guidance. Strangely the rocking motion was comforting, though a dimming rational part of my brain knew it was signaling the end of a coherent mental state.

  Hearing another voice in my head I thought I had lost it for sure.

  “Huh?”

  ICS, you idiot. Do not lift your head, and do not move.

  Someone had hijacked my ICS number, I realized coldly. I don’t remember consciously changing it, but my own black haired avatar had an intense, morose, look on as it stood there in silence with this commanding voice talking to it. Maybe in the depths of despair I had decided to change it to something brooding.

  Communicating on ICS, people always used a stylized avatar of themselves as they interacted with the other person; it was to help your brain keep track of whom the voices in your head actually belonged to. This voice did not possess a friendly avatar, and that fact was worrying. I didn’t even know if you could overwrite that part of the ICS program by not having at least something as your symbol whether it was an animal or a tree. To be able to block my own ICS attempts at identification indicated this person had some very high technology.

  Okay, don’t worry, I’m used to this. Who are you? Why can I not see any of your info? Not even an avatar… - Me

  The voice was still masked as a non-racial, non-sex neutral tone, impossible to track. Somehow they had subverted my system, as I could not get a lock on them. How the hell did they do that? Further, I had not been able to make a single ICS connection with anyone in here, and I had even resorted to broadcasting, yet they so easily locked onto mine?

  I am interested in helping you, - the indistinguishable voice stated.

  Well, good I need all the help I can. - Me

  You are not the first I have tried helping, but they all died. Shut your broadcast off too, are you an idiot? You want to be killed before you can even prove I should help you? …Damn, was I supposed to respond to that? The help didn’t sound very helpful. But you are different, you might last longer than usual. - Unknown

  Why did that sound vaguely familiar? There was something about that line that my mind refused to let go of…

  I can help you greatly. I can contact the outside for you. - Unknown

  Was this a trap? Maybe. What did I have to lose though? I was probably going to die in this game sooner or later unless I could find a way out, and this was it.

  If you survive the next one, we can talk further. - Unknown

  Wait! - Me

  But there was only silence. I lifted my tired eyes off my knees, looking at the other side of the wall in the dim light. I looked over at the Behemon whose head was down like mine, but we had already said what needed to be said, and he wasn’t the talking type.

  I closed my eyes from exhaustion and depression, and tried to go to sleep but the only thing I could do was shiver from the cold, time passing in an exhausting half-daze.

  ***

  As I sat there in the dark awaiting my second game I realized an important reason I had to help the Behemon win his two more games: it would show if I could really get out of here by winning five games. If indeed he would be escorted out of the game, my path was obvious. If he was still in the game again, then I would have to think of something drastic.

  My bracelet chimed to life before the actual start, and that was never good: it meant a surprise for the game. “The condition for this game is a fifteen Jega ground sweep. I will be warning you appropriately.”

  Every time period – approximately ten ‘seconds’ in ancient Terran language – and after that time elapsed, a light blast would be released that will eliminate anyone not currently airborne. Heh, that made things interesting. Often there wasn’t enough drift given in a game to stay in flight very long. Everyone would go down eventually, so this was going to be a fast, brutal game.

  “Engage!” The door exploded open.

  I quivered back from the loud sound and light. Shit. I dashed through the light, temporarily caught off guard.

  “I want constant countdowns during the entire game!” I shouted at my bracelet, lifting my rifle and blasting someone to my right.

  Already the countdown was nearing, “5, 4, 3, 2…” Damn, how thick was the light blast going to be? I jerked my head up, feeling the exhilarating rush of wind across my body and hair as I took off into the sky. Playing naked was kind of fun; if it was appropriate normally I might do it sometime. All around me, other players were also taking to the air to avoid the light blast.

  Being in the air was a double-edged sword: only a direct hit would put someone out, as there was not a wall to be caught in the area-of-effect explosion, but a path was predictable unless a player overrode that path, burning an extra amount of drift.

  Silently, a large wave of light covered everything on the ground. My bracelet stated we were down to ten players; had half been killed already?

  A blond-haired man saw that he was jumping straight into my path. He waited for a moment -- a decent strategy actually -- before overriding his drift to his right. I was good though, and knew tricks people used. I was waiting for the dodge, and followed him, plugging him out of the sky.

  “Hey.” A huge paw set itself on my shoulder, one that could rip me apart as if it was paper, as I was gliding back to the ground. I turned and the Behemon was there.

  “Let’s do this!” I yelled back to him. “Back to back!”

  He led off a direction while I turned away from him, but followed in his path as we flew along across the sand. I was going the same direction, but as my drift unit was omni-directional, I could follow him while facing our backside.

  “4, 3, 2…”

  “Jump!” I shouted. My head and neck rolled down into my chest slightly from the massive gravities that still came through the nullifier.

  I sweeped my side I was watching, somewhat safe in that I knew I could outshoot anyone on my side, and depending on how good the Behemon was, his body would at least take a hit before I knew my ‘backside’ was compromised.

  The light wave came across the ground again, but the amount didn’t go down any further. I figured as much; anyone good would have not been hit by it the first time, and definitely not subsequent times.

  There was a fire burning on the right side of my brain, screaming at me to respond. I knew the feeling of my honed instincts: it was telling me that I was in danger, but I could not locate from where. Off to my right a black dot was moving in my vision. What…?

  It was as if time had gone into slow motion while my view became disjointed from my eyes as my viewpoint flew away from my body. Somewhere, something else was watching me from the outside, and it saw what was going to happen.

  It all came crashing back to my viewpoint as I knew I was in danger and dodged. “Shit!” I jerked, overriding the soft glide I was on, bursting forward amid the warning of low drift remaining as a pack of tracers flew past where I had been. That black-haired guy! He was in this game round too!

  I lifted my rifle and aimed at him. He stayed still, not dodging predictably. We were both gliding away from each other, but kept our eyes fo
cused, each waiting for the other to shoot or dodge. The silence and soft glide we were both in belied the tension within the two of us; only the rapidly approaching ground offering any change to our still positions.

  ‘Dodge this, bitch,’ I thought as I pulled the trigger. He jerked, overriding his drift as he sent a spray back at me. I needed to get to the ground fast where dodging didn’t use up as much drift points.

  I dove down then dashed forward as the sand behind me glassed and exploded apart from the light packets landing around me.

  I was exhilarated; I have never been in this intense of a battle. A huge smile was spread across my face as we dashed back and forth, trading shots, critically aware of our depleting ammo from not killing easier prey. There was fear, but that only added to the reality: this all-consuming now-ness that made me feel alive. All the cold, all the dampness, it was nothing to this.

  This was why I wanted to be a Gun Drift player!

  I had two shots left, and enough drift to make the next jump to avoid the countdown, but not enough to override it in a needed dodge. This guy was going to easily eliminate me without an extra dodge to use.

  I swayed to my left, taking a heavy dose of gravities from the insanely fast turn, a wave of sand shooting up in my old direction from the drift unit’s thrust. The quick turn might give me a few extra moments of life during my jump while the dark haired man re-aimed, but it was over.

  “Players!” I shouted desperately.

  My bracelet responded with, “Seven remaining” before the blast countdown reached two and I jumped reluctantly.

  My escape became obvious as I saw two others battling. I sniped the first one, restoring some single shots as well as a burst. I immediately turned the burst fire at his opponent, all before he even knew his target was dead. Ha! I was too good to go down like this!

  Only I missed. My chance at ending the game early failed. The target came out of the light blasts wounded, but not eliminated.

  “No…” My hair was wiping across my face as I drifted listlessly across the sky, waiting for that man with the sword tattoo to put me out for the final person to lose. The hopelessness of this entire place had slowly started to wear on me, and now that it was over I was almost somewhat glad the suffering would end. The only burning regret was Feylon would never know what happened to me, never knowing I was loyal to her to the end.