Gamers - Amazon

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "I was tops in my rank and a lock for getting into Blizzard when the first seizure happened," said Milton.

  "Seizure?"

  "Epilepsy," he explained. "Brought on by the flickering lights on my eye-screens."

  "I've never heard of such a thing," said Gabby.

  "And you won't," he said. "You can't find anything about it unless you find an old book that explains it."

  "How did that--" she paused, trying to form the word correctly. "--epilepsy keep you from University?"

  "If it were only once, then it wouldn't," Milton said and his voice broke slightly, reminding her that he wasn't much older than she. "But it kept happening more frequently. While I had built up a huge lead with my LifeScore, that lead evaporated as I missed more and more time until eventually I knew I wasn't going to get into University."

  "But they wouldn't let that happen. Not if you were working hard," she said. "And there are other jobs than just what you can get at University."

  When they were both staring at her blankly, she added, "...right?"

  "What's the first rule of LifeGame?" Michael asked.

  An uncomfortable shiver worked its way down her back and a cold tingle settled across the back of her head.

  She knew they all knew the answer, but she said the words anyway: "What can be gamed can be improved."

  "And the second?"

  "Everything can be a game," she answered.

  The air was heavy and weighed down with words.

  "If you can't play the game then you're no use to them," said Milton. "And the third ensures they'll forget about you as soon as you're gone."

  "What happened?" she whispered.

  Milton made a fist and put it to his chin. His face was lost to a memory.

  "I wanted to know what was going to happen if I didn't make University," he said eventually. "They always talk about other options, but they never spell them out. Other ways to play the game, and things like that."

  Gabby found it hard to look at Milton. The pain was a raw sore on his whole being. Though he'd been a disgusting lurch in the FunCar, she felt the urge to hug him.

  "So I hacked them to find out my fate," he continued. "And now I'm here."

  She shook her head. "Wait. What did you find? What are the other games?"

  Milton caught her gaze with his own and though he was a stick of a boy, not much older than her, his eyes were flecked through with grim resolve.

  "There are none," he said. "The GSA is a nation of winners. There's no room for the losers."

  "No room?" she asked, confused.

  Milton threw his hands up. "All I could find was that I couldn't find them. The winners go to University and then onto fortune and fame." He paused. "And the losers? They just disappear."

  "But what about the parents?" she said. "Wouldn't they do something?"

  "That's why they get moved too, I guess. When kids don't make it and the family has to move, it's not so the kid can go to a new school, it's so the other families don't find out what happens," said Milton.

  "They never speak of it? That sounds crazy," she said.

  "The only proof I could find is that the suicide rate is super high in the parents once their kids lose the game."

  Silence overtook them as Gabby contemplated his words.

  "So you can see why we wanted to contact you," said Michael.

  She met his gaze and witnessed a different kind of pain. While Milton was all raw nerves and grim struggle, Michael had a deep, resigned pain that made his eyes searing cold.

  "I don't understand, actually," she said.

  "We need your help figuring out where they go," said Milton.

  "Why me?" she asked.

  "Because you're going to University and you're a hacker," said Michael. "And most importantly, the Coders want you."

  Gabby crossed her arms and looked out to the FunCar sitting in the middle of the gravel.

  "The Coders pick the best of the best from those going to University and send them to a special training program," Milton explained. "We hope you can find out what they're doing with everyone that doesn't make it."

  Gabby turned back to them. "I don't get it. If what you say is true, it would mean that eighty percent of kids are shipped off somewhere else and all their records erased?"

  "Erased, hidden. We're not sure," said Milton. "When those kids that don't make it are sent to a different school, that's when they disappear."

  "But they have to physically go somewhere? And what about the parents? They wouldn't just let their kids get taken away," she said.

  Gabby didn't believe what they were saying. There had to be a different explanation. They were grasping at illusions.

  "We don't have all the answers. That's why we need your help," said Michael. "When you're a Coder, you'll be able to peer behind the veil and see what's really going on."

  "You guys keep saying that I'm going to be a Coder. How can you know that if you can't find out what's going on with all those kids?" she asked.

  Milton blushed, or at least Gabby assumed she did, though it was hard to tell with the reddish blotches on his face.

  "Trust him when he says he knows," said Michael. "And it doesn't have anything to do with a hack."

  Then Michael put his hand up to his ear as if he were listening to a message on his cochlea implants.

  "Celia and Drogan need our help with the Caterpillar." Michael smiled. "Would you like to help?"

  Gabby nodded. All their serious talk and the worn down farmhouse made for a depressing environment. She was used to brighter and cheerier settings. Plus, she'd spent the morning holed up in the FunCar. She could use some fresh air.

  "Totally buffed. Count me in," she said, matching his smile with one of her own.

  The three left the farmhouse and the fleeting thought that she was missing something occurred to her, but when she saw the enormous vehicle that Drogan and Celia were riding, she forgot all about it.

  Chapter Nine

  Gabby had never ridden in anything other than a FunCar and those could only fit two people, three if they had small waists. When they'd been younger; Gabby, Zaela and Dario would ride together in one, giggling and scoring mad points.

  She'd played in other imaginary vehicles as LifeGame was full of them: racecars, airships, waterrockets, and other fantastical modes of transport. But none of those prepared her for the cobbled monstrosity the Frags called the Caterpillar that lumbered across the gravel.

  The vehicle had more in common with a chimera than a FunCar, though she could see why they called it the caterpillar. The backend had conveyor belt tracks around steel wheels while the front had three sets of gnarled tires. A long arm with a clawed hook protruded from the front.

  Celia was piloting it from an open seat using a handlebar steering mechanism. Drogan stood behind her, perched on the seat behind with his hands on her shoulders. Each hand dwarfed the shoulder it rested on.

  Drogan was shouting, "Left! Left!"

  Celia was giggling and clearly ignoring Drogan's directions. Gabby didn't know how she was seeing as the black bandage across her eyes blocked all vision.

  Gabby wanted to be worried, but Michael and Milton weren't. They seemed to have shaken off the serious conversation from inside the farmhouse as they laughed and shouted directions from their safe spot in the grass.

  Celia steered the vehicle around the FunCar in wide figure eights. It seemed to be made from parts of dozens of other vehicles. The noise from it was surprising as well. It growled and rumbled and belched black smoke from its rear pipes.

  The FunCars, in contrast, were completely silent so the occupants could concentrate on their games. They were, essentially, meant to be invisible. The vehicular monstrosity had an individual personality all its own.

  Michael tugged on Gabby's arm. "Come on. I need help with some traveling supplies."

  "Traveling? I didn't come all this way to go on another trip," she said.

  Michael ignored her and led
her to the barn. The inside smelled like a mix of burnt oil and old manure. Disassembled hulks of old vehicles littered the bottom floor. What Gabby assumed to be an engine hung from a chain beneath a loft.

  As she swiped at a stray bug floating near her head, Michael grabbed an olive dufflebag and launched it at her, hitting her in the chest.

  "Hey!" she said. "That hurt. What have you got in there, rocks?"

  Michael eyed the bug as he grabbed two other duffle bags and hauled them toward the door. "Camping gear."

  Gabby chased him outside. "Wait. I can't stay long. Maybe tomorrow afternoon at the latest, but next week is Final Raid. I've got to get back home so I can grind points."

  Celia had stopped the strange vehicle and the other two boys were loading boxes into the back.

  "You won't understand unless we take you a little further," he said.

  Gabby dropped her dufflebag. "I'll believe you. I promise. Just tell me. I can't be gone another day."

  Michael shrugged and threw a dufflebag up to Drogan, who was bouncing the monstrous vehicle as he stacked the bags.

  "If you're as smart as Milton says you are then you won't have any problem catching up next week," he said. "And showing you is the only way." He winked. "Come on. It'll be fun. Everyday's an adventure out here."

  The offer was tempting but she hated to throw away a lifetime of work for one joy ride. Plus she'd told Zaela she'd be back tonight. Gabby knew that Zaela would cover if she didn’t return, but then she'd have to explain why and she didn't want to get her mixed up with the Frags.

  Standing in the vehicle, Michael held out his hand. His ice-blue eyes twinkled at her. She was thoroughly annoyed by the way they were making her feel.

  And she was curious. Milton's story had been heart-wrenching. She wondered if the others had similar ones. If she left, she'd never find out why Michael and his sister Celia had run. Then again, she realized, her blindness probably kept her from playing LifeGame and made her a target to disappear. Michael had probably run with her rather than lose his sister.

  "Okay," she said. "I'll go, but you have to promise I'm back in that FunCar tomorrow morning."

  Michael held his hand over his heart. "I promise."

  As he pulled her onto the Caterpillar, he squeezed her hand. Fearing her hormones were betraying her good sense for his crystalline eyes, she dropped his hand.

  Behind the driver seat, three rows of benches were room enough for a dozen people and behind that was a spacious wagon bed filled with supplies. Seated next to Michael and behind Drogan and Milton, the Caterpillar rumbled to life.

  As Celia steered them into the trees, Gabby leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Can your sister see?"

  "Better than we can," he said.

  An insect was perched on the bench between them. Gabby raised her hand to squash it and Michael grabbed her arm before impact.

  "Please don't," Michael yelled over the engine noise. "Celia doesn't have many left."

  "The insect is hers?"

  "It's a micro-machine. A mechanical insect. Part of her sensor network," he explained.

  "She sees with it?"

  "You could say that."

  Gabby watched Celia steer the Caterpillar. She was preternatural in her stillness, not moving her head to watch the path. The afternoon sunlight drifted through the trees, forming dappled patterns across the ground, making judging surfaces difficult.

  But Celia piloted the craft around hidden dips and fallen trees easily. In fact, they seemed to be following an old trail through the woods, heading deeper into the mountains.

  Celia hardly moved except to take a sip from her water bottle every once in a while. Gabby would have guessed that Michael or Drogan would have driven the Caterpillar just based on the arm strength probably required to steer and not the blind waif.

  As they rumbled across the hills, Drogan bounced in his seat singing nursery rhymes. Though it brought a smile to her face, she was thankful he could hardly be heard over the motor noise.

  Milton spent the time immersed in coding. She was familiar with the signs: vacant stare, mumbling lips, and finger gestures in the air. It was different than gaming, which had a flow to it. He was clearly working on a difficult problem, an exploit maybe. If she had an opportunity when they stopped, she planned on comparing notes with him about it.

  Finally, her gaze fell upon Michael. He was leaning away from her, watching the sun drift toward the peaks. His hair was scattered askew on his head, and his jaw pulsed with a hidden dilemma.

  She wondered what it would be like to give up her life to run away with her sister, if she'd had one. Would there be regrets?

  Gabby watched him for a while and found she enjoyed looking at him. Though she couldn't figure out why.

  He wasn't straight-out handsome, totally buffed with good looks, she decided. He wasn't average, either. His nose might have been broken at one point, angling just slightly to the right, but it made him more interesting.

  And his eyes, though mind-numbingly crisp, weren't what made her stare, since he was facing the other way. Instead, she thought, he had a kind face and was just the right height that she could nuzzle into a hug.

  A warm flush rose to her face. Gabby found her cheeks radiated heat when she touched them.

  Suddenly, the Caterpillar lurched right and she was thrown onto Michael's lap.

  "Hey!" he said smiling. "If you wanted to sit in my lap you just had to ask."

  Gabby untangled herself from him. The heat in her cheeks burned hotter. She found Celia had her head turned toward them with an impish grin. Checking behind them she saw no reason the Caterpillar would have needed to jump like it had.

  "When you say your sister can see better than we can," she asked. "Do you mean she can see beyond just the light spectrum?"

  Michael nodded. "She has M.A.S.S., a Mobile Auxiliary Sensory System. Her mobile sensors, the bugs, can see other things than just the normal visible spectrum, like heat or vibration."

  "Where did she get that twinked gear?" Gabby asked.

  "Our parents were, are I guess, researchers for the government, the military part." Michael pulled an olive green canteen from a backpack at his feet.

  "When Celia was born mostly blind," he continued. "They developed the M.A.S.S. to give her sight, attaching sensors to the unused nerve endings. The government paid for the research because of the implications for the military."

  "Can she tell what you're thinking?" Gabby asked, wondering about being knocked into Michael's lap.

  Michael laughed. "Sometimes I think she can. Never play poker with her. She sniffs out all your tells."

  "She doesn't talk much," Gabby remarked.

  "Not really. Too overloaded with information, I guess. I have to remind her to eat regularly," he said.

  Their conversations inexplicably and uncomfortably fell silent, so Gabby went back to watching the scenery.

  As she breathed in the cool autumn mountain air, she realized that in the last day she hadn't gained one single point. She couldn't remember a day she hadn't, and for the last few hours she hadn't checked her LifeScore either.

  Though thinking about it, she glanced left to see the number she already knew. Gray, lifeless, and hadn't moved one decimal point since yesterday.

  Gabby sighed. She was going to have to figure out what to do about these Frags. She found herself liking them, which would make turning them into the LGIE even harder.

  When the sun slipped behind the mountains and plunged them into darkness, a cold wind rose up from the valley they were passing through. Michael pulled out blankets and they each cuddled beneath their own.

  Celia continued driving through the darkness, which Gabby found unnerving. They'd passed treacherous cliffs and rock slides on the way, and in the dark, it felt like they were constantly headed toward one.

  At least Drogan had stopped singing nursery rhymes. Michael had to put his hand on the big guy's shoulder a few times to let him know they were with him
.

  Finally, they stopped and made camp. Michael made a small fire with wood they'd brought, while the rest unpacked.

  Once they were warming their hands around the fire, Milton spoke up. "We'll get up early and make the last push to our destination. The earlier the better so we're not seen."

  "What's our destination?" Gabby asked.

  The Frags remained silent over the flickering light of the campfire. Michael stared into his cup, while Milton shrugged. Drogan hadn't been listening and probably didn't know what they were talking about, anyway.

  Celia, who had changed into bulky overalls that she barely fit into, though blind, seemed to be staring right through her. Or at least, Gabby felt that way, wondering where her sensor bugs were and what they could read from her.

  After a dinner of roast rabbit, which Gabby found tough and gamey, they settled into their sleeping bags. Lying near the rear track of the Caterpillar, Gabby watched the stars unfold their glory above her.

  In the city, she'd never really seen the stars. Here, the broad brushstroke of the Milky Way arched over her. When an owl hooted nearby, a chill went down her spine.

  Gabby remembered the cover of the book that Blair had given her. The one about the long dead philosopher that had an owl on the front.

  "Hey, Michael?" she whispered in the dark.

  His voice came back unladed with sleep. "Yeah?" He must have been thinking or watching the stars, too.

  "Did you put an owl in your hack when you tried to see me at school?" she asked.

  A shooting star streaked across the sky, disappearing behind the nearby trees.

  "No," he said after a long while. "Why would I put an owl in my hack?"

  "Must have been someone else then."

  Gabby sighed, wishing she had Celia's M.A.S.S. to know if he was lying.

  She rolled onto her side. She was never going to get sleep with a view like that above her. Then again, she wasn't going to get sleep anyway, since she still had to decide if she was going to turn them into the LGIE.

  Chapter Ten

  The easy adventure feeling from the day before had disappeared. The Frags were on high alert as the Caterpillar rumbled across the mountainside.