by J C Lane
“It didn’t come. The location transmission. I didn’t get it.” She shoved her watch into the front seat. The clock said 10:30:17.
“Give it a few seconds,” the man in the passenger seat said.
“I don’t have to give it a few seconds,” Brandy said. “It’s supposed to come at ten-thirty exactly, and it didn’t.” She punched in the Ref’s number, and the woman appeared on the screen.
“Yes, Miss Inkrott.”
The Ref’s smooth voice and perfect appearance sparked Brandy’s rage. “You screwed up.”
“I see. And how would that be?”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“Your Runner?”
“Who else would I mean? Of course my Runner.”
“Her location should have reached you a few seconds ago. That’s the closest you’ll get to knowing her location until you Tag her.”
“It didn’t send.”
The Ref frowned. “What didn’t?”
“The transmission! I didn’t get her location!”
The Ref’s eyes swiveled sideways, and she punched something into her computer. Her eyebrows rose. “Hmm. It seems like your communication with her watch was disrupted. Give me a moment.” Brandy heard some clicking, and the Ref looked back at the screen. “Now?”
Brandy’s wrist hummed, and her Runner’s location popped up. “I want a refund. That set me back a whole minute.”
The Ref sighed. “Do you have her location?”
“Yes.”
“Then I suggest you get moving, and worry about refunds later.”
“Fine.” Brandy cut off the call and stared at the screen. It was hard to even know what the coordinates meant. She thrust her wrist at the men in the front seat. “Where is she?”
Without touching her, the man in the passenger seat read the map. “Up north by Park West Park.”
Brandy smacked the driver’s shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”
He drove.
Amanda
After Amanda’s ten-thirty transmission she bribed a skateboarder to ferry her a mile up to the water taxi stand, where she bought a ticket to the planetarium landing.
No one Tagged her. No one even looked suspicious. But the water taxi was crowded, with an extra large, extra loud group of Japanese tourists chatting and laughing and taking pictures of the skyline, so maybe DarwinSon1 was among them. Or maybe it really was some completely other person named The Referee who created that avatar for some unknown reason, and Amanda was completely off for even considering that her opponent was Asian.
Or maybe she was just racist, although she wasn’t sure exactly how that would fit. She wasn’t the one who created the avatar.
The avatar she’d created was dead.
The air coming off the water chilled her, so Amanda hugged herself, backing into the enclosed portion of the taxi. She found an empty seat toward the rear and watched the buildings go by. The river split off to the east, but her boat continued south, past the Opera House and the Exchange. She laughed to herself as the top of Union Station drifted by, since she’d just been there. She saw Sears Tower, where a mob of teenagers stood in line, waiting for the elevator to shoot them to the top, and the scattered museums, where she would be headed next. Finally, they arrived in Chinatown, the last stop.
As the water taxi slowed and docked at the platform, Amanda scanned the shore for anyone who might be waiting. Seeing no one any stranger than another, she disembarked and headed toward the planetarium entrance.
A chill raced up her spine and she shivered, wondering why she was thinking this had been way too easy.
Charles
Charles received the ten-thirty transmission with Amanda’s coordinates.
Amanda saw the transmission, too, and got up from the park bench. She stopped a skateboarder, and after an exchange of cash, hopped on the back of the wide board, taking off down the sidewalk.
Charles was ready. He deployed the wheels on the bottoms of his shoes and skated after her, keeping up easily. He wasn’t surprised when the skateboarder dropped Amanda off at the water taxi stand. Charles reset his shoes and followed Amanda into the line for tickets. She had no way to know who he was, but still he joined a large group of Japanese tourists who were happy to include him in their chatter, and have him take some photos.
Amanda watched over her shoulder as she descended the stairs to the landing platform, but even though her eyes drifted over his group, she didn’t see him as anything to worry about. He realized she didn’t know what he looked like, or anything about him, but still, shouldn’t she be able to tell something?
He followed her to the boat and climbed on with the Japanese tourists. His father had taught him the basics of Japanese as he grew up, so it was easy to blend in, language-wise. If Amanda heard him, she would have no way of knowing the tourists were asking him his name and all about himself, giving away that he was a stranger to them. Unless she knew Japanese. Sometimes manga freaks went so far as to study the language so they could watch or read their favorites in the original language, and he hadn’t thought to ask the Ref if Amanda’s geek obsession went that far. He spoke quietly, doing more smiling and nodding than actually talking.
After a bit, Amanda climbed down into the sheltered area of the boat, but Charles stayed outside and gripped the rail, staring blindly at the skyline. This definitely wasn’t the kind of chase he’d had in mind, traipsing all over the public transportation system. The friend who had recommended the Game assured him it would be like nothing he’d ever done. He supposed it was, but that was because it was supremely boring. Either the computer had messed up, as the Referee had suggested, or something else was wrong.
His friend had bought the Elite package, so that when he’d Tagged his Runner, it wasn’t the simple light show Charles could expect on Amanda’s smartwatch when he tagged her. Charles had no desire to kill anyone. All he wanted was a meeting of the minds, or at least a small challenge. What he’d received was so much less than that, he was ready to pack it in, if he hadn’t already paid so much money. He could have Tagged Amanda at multiple points during the day. All he needed was a proximity of twenty feet, and she was his. But something held him back.
The Referee had assured him that Amanda had been convinced to play, that she had “suffered a loss,” which made her realize the importance of her participation. Through a little research, Charles was able to deduce that the Ref had killed Amanda’s avatar, PeruvianGoddess13, which was really a shame, because that had been one awesome character. Charles had only a short time to study it during those first thirty minutes after he’d learned Amanda’s identity, when Amanda was supposed to be running, but even that little glimpse had impressed him. He really believed Amanda could be something special. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Chinatown appeared on the shore, and the other passengers prepared to disembark. Charles flowed with the crowd, leaving with the Japanese tour group, but slowed to watch for Amanda. She paused at the gangplank to study the platform, and Charles avoided eye contact. Apparently satisfied, the girl headed off toward the planetarium, the expression on her face answering his question of why the Game had been so easy.
She thought it was a joke.
Charles watched her go, rage heating his stomach and climbing up his throat to his head, which thrummed with tension. Killing her beloved avatar hadn’t been enough? Or had the Referee failed to explain just what could be at stake here, if Charles weren’t so generous?
Charles let out a long breath, realizing there actually wasn’t anything at stake that she knew of. So her avatar was dead. She could build another one. And you couldn’t tell him she didn’t have a backup of it somewhere. She would simply re-animate the backup, and start off where she’d been.
No, Amanda Paniagua had no idea what was really going on. Right now she thought she was headed to the Grainger Sky Theate
r, where she would win the Game against some lame opponent who couldn’t follow her trail around the city. She was wrong.
Charles pushed a button on his smartwatch and called the Referee.
11 a.m.
Laura
The bus schedule wasn’t conducive to the three of them getting on when they wanted, which was now, but there was a little trolley stop just down the block. As soon as Laura’s location was transmitted, they hopped on the free ride and headed downtown. Laura sat nearer to Sydney than necessary, but the mix of people on the ride made her anxious. The families were fine, of course, and the pairs of ladies out for a shopping day, but there were some hard-core people, like the huge African-American guy in the back. She accidentally caught his eye, and the flat emotion there made her spin right back around.
hic
“What’s wrong?” Sydney said.
Laura shook her head. “These people are just…different.”
Sydney looked behind them, not even bothering to hide her curiosity. “You mean that huge guy in the back? He is something, isn’t he? Kind of…dangerous, but hot, you know? Looks like he’s been in a fight. Probably gang stuff.”
Adam laughed. “Not all black guys are in gangs, Syd.”
“I know that, dummy. But look at him.”
“He’s got a watch like Laura’s,” Adam said.
Sydney whipped around again. “Exactly like it. Think he stole it?”
“Holy crap, Syd,” Adam said. “Racist much?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. He just looks…angry.”
Laura wished they’d stop talking about the guy. He was likely to hear them, putting them in trouble for sure. And the trolley was moving so slowly. They probably could have walked faster. Well, if her ankle were its usual self.
When they finally arrived downtown, the scary guy stayed on when they got off. Laura found him in the window as the trolley departed. His head rotated as the trolley passed her, and she stood rooted to the sidewalk. Something about him…
“Come on, slowpoke.” Sydney grabbed Laura’s arm and hauled her, limping, toward the Sears Tower entrance.
Their group still wasn’t down from the top, so they slipped into the building’s hallway to wait. No sense standing outside in full view of whoever might be around.
“How much time?” Sydney looked at Laura’s watch.
“Less than a minute.”
“Crap.” Sydney yanked out her phone and texted someone.
Laura made herself as small as possible, scrunching behind Adam against the wall, smothering the buzz of her watch when the eleven o’clock transmission went. What if Brandy was close? Right outside or next door? The Game could be about over.
“Billy says they’re waiting to get on the elevator to come down,” Sydney said. “It should only be a couple minutes.”
Laura watched the front door, wondering if she should make a run for it. Because a couple of minutes could be a couple of minutes too long.
Charles
“Charles.” The Referee didn’t sound surprised to hear from him. “Calling so soon? I’m wondering why you haven’t pulled the trigger.”
“You didn’t do your job.”
“I see. And what did you expect me to do, exactly?”
“Make her see exactly what is expected of her.”
“I made it very clear.”
“Apparently not. I just followed her on a little hike around Chicago. I knew what she was going to do before she did it. Nothing surprised me, except maybe the skateboarder.”
“Excuse me?”
“Never mind. But you need to stop her from entering that theater.”
“Those are not the Rules of the Game, Charles. You knew that when you signed the contract. If you want to end the Game, you must Tag her. From what I can tell, you are within the boundaries, or at least you have been, to Tag her. If you choose not to, that is your decision, but you know the Rules.”
“The Rules of the Game just changed.”
“You can’t do that in the middle of a Game, Charles. You know that. With one exception, of course. You know what that is, I believe? We went over that in our original interview.”
“I do, and I want to make that exception.”
“You’re certain? You can’t change your mind once you switch over.”
“I’m certain. We’ve given her two chances, and she isn’t any closer to giving us the Game I need.”
“Very well. I am sending you a new contract. Read it over, and if it’s what you want, transfer the money to my account.”
“Time is running out before she enters the theater.”
“Then you’d better work fast, Mr. Akida.”
He skimmed the contract that lit up his screen. Everything seemed in order. It wasn’t how he had wanted to play the Game, but Amanda Paniagua hadn’t given him any other choice. He brought up the payment option and sent the money. Within seconds, the Referee said, “I have your payment. I will send word to your Runner that the Game has changed. Thank you for your business.”
Charles cut off the Ref and scowled at the planetarium. He hadn’t wanted to spend the extra money, and he really hadn’t wanted the outcome. But he was out of patience. So he was now It in an Elite Game of Tag.
Amanda Paniagua would have to bring her A game, or she would die.
Brandy
They left the stupid zoo before the next transmission, Brandy knowing for sure her Runner had been there, because people noticed a teenage girl being pulled around in a wagon or icing her ankle at the cafe. But no way would her Runner still be there, so Brandy was already back downtown closer to Water Tower Place when she got the transmission saying Laura was at the Sears Tower. Brandy and her men arrived on-site within minutes. The men charged through the line and burst into the foyer, Brandy trotting behind. She whipped her head around, pushing through families and tourists and a stupid group of teenagers clogging up the hallway. Brandy thought maybe the Runner had hidden herself with them, like she obviously had at the art museum, but she didn’t see her anywhere. She checked her proximity meter, and her heart lurched.
Runner is within range.
Laura was there. Brandy had found her again! This time she wasn’t hesitating. She pushed the Tagger.
Runner is out of range.
What? No! The line was moving forward. Her Runner must have just gotten on an elevator to head to the top of the tower. Brandy pushed to the front of the line, ignoring the complaints of the people she knocked out of the way, until she was standing in front of the bank of elevators.
Runner is out of range.
“Augh!” Brandy swung around, shoving her phone in the elevator operator’s face. “Did you see this girl go up just now?”
“Haven’t seen her, but I see so many people…”
“Any of you?” She swung her arm toward the people in line, but nobody was paying attention, just like at the art museum.
“Miss, I need to see your ticket,” the elevator guy said.
These stupid people always asking for tickets. “I don’t have one.”
“You can’t get on without—”
Brandy’s man stared down the ticket-taker until the man withered.
“We’re taking the next elevator,” Brandy told him.
They squeezed on with the next load, ignoring the comments of angry tourists who had been waiting in line for an hour. As soon as they arrived at the top, Brandy raced around the deck, pushing her button.
Runner is out of range.
“No! No! Nononononononono!”
Runner is out of range.
Runner is out of range.
“Miss?” Two security guards came up beside her. She waited for her man to do something, but he stood there like a deaf idiot. “We understand you didn’t buy a ticket.”
Brandy gla
red up at them. “And?”
“You and your…friend…will have to come with us.”
She glared at her man, who gave a little shrug.
Brandy took a deep breath and began composing the phone call she would make to her parents so they could get her off the hook.
Whatever.
Amanda
Amanda had just paid for entrance to the planetarium and was headed toward the theater when her smartwatch buzzed.
The Rules of the Game of Tag have changed.
Amanda stopped in the middle of the stairs, causing the guy behind her to say some choice words. She glared at him, but moved to the side.
It has purchased an upgrade. You are now playing an Elite Game of Tag. An Elite package means the outcome of the Game will be quite different. Once one of you is Tagged, that means one of you will be dead.
Amanda gripped the handrail. Dead? Literally? Or dead like PeruvianGoddess13 was dead? She followed the crowd to the top of the stairs and peeled off to a corner, where she went back over the original Rules. They said nothing about death. Nothing at all about what happened to the winner or the loser. Only that she would be Tagged if It caught up with her. Sure, PeruvianGoddess13 had died, but no matter how much it hurt Amanda, and how much she felt like she’d lost her best friend, PG13 was, in reality, an avatar. Besides, Amanda was hoping to manage a resurrection once this craziness ended.
She hit Return Dial from the last call, which had been from the Referee.
That number is no longer in service.
What? Amanda found the Ref’s number in her contacts and tried that one. The androgynous Asian avatar glowed on the screen.
“Amanda. How unfortunate to see you.” The voice was the same robotic, genderless voice she’d heard that morning.
“What do you mean, ‘one of us will be dead’?”
The avatar raised an eyebrow. “Are you somewhere you can be talking without others listening in?”
People flowed all around her, and a mom with a toddler and stroller sat on the bench next to her. “Yes.”
