Tark peered into the gloom. Inside was a writhing mass of static, bigger than even the combined VIs, with a darkness in its depths that made Tark think of rats and refuse and decaying things. It roiled and writhed and changed its shape, taking on one vague form after another. Most passed by too quickly for Tark to discern, but he did see teeth and claws - he was certain of that - and a gaping emptiness that might have been a ravenous mouth.
Tark took a step forward, mesmerised by the whirling static, hoping to get a better view, but Tee put a hand on his shoulder.
‘There’s a force-field on the cave, to keep that thing in there,’ said Tee. ‘The professor set it up shortly after we discovered it.’
‘Wot is it?’ asked Tark, unable to take his eyes from the undulating mass.
‘We’re not sure,’ admitted Tee. ‘It’s linked to the
VIs. I think it controls them in some way. Or maybe it’s their source of power. We’re just not sure.’ He frowned in thought. ‘There’s usually at least three or four VIs hanging around here. Sometimes they even try to get through the force-field.’
Tark looked around cautiously. ‘I don’t sees any more.’
‘Neither do I.’ Tee took a deep breath. ‘Which makes me think that now might be a good time to attack it, while most of the VIs are busy chasing Hope and Zyra. We might be able to destroy it, or damage it, or, at the very least, lure some of the VIs back here and away from Hope and Zyra.’
‘Rights.’ Tark lifted his crossbow and eagerly reached into his quiver for a bolt. ‘Anythin’ ta helps Zyra.’
‘They won’t do any good,’ said Tee. ‘It’s much too strong.’
‘Gotta try,’ said Tark, licking his dry lips. ‘Gotta try and helps Zyra.’
Tee gently put a hand onto Tark’s crossbow. ‘It won’t help her if we let that thing escape.’
‘So how does we attacks it?’ demanded Tark.
‘Ah,’ said Tee raising his hand. ‘That’s why we need to talk to Professor Palimpsest.’
‘Okay.’ Tark lowered his crossbow but continued to stare at the static creature, a determined look on his face. ‘Then whys did ya waste time comin’ ‘ere?’
‘I wanted you to see it,’ explained Tee. ‘I wanted you to know what we are up against.’
‘Rights,’ said Tark. ‘Well, I has seen it.’
As they left, Tark thought he heard humming coming from the cave - harsh, guttural, yet tuneful.
14: Brains!
Zyra and Hope were standing in a deserted city street. They looked around to see a couple of smashed shop windows and a door left swinging in the wind. Litter danced in the breeze and an eerie silence prevailed.
As Zyra gazed about, she thought that perhaps this was what the City in her environment may have looked like before it crumbled to its current state. She had to remind herself that the City had always been destroyed - it had been designed to be so. Just like this city had most likely been designed to be deserted.
‘What’s that?’ Hope pointed to a dark stain on thepavement beneath their feet.
Zyra crouched down and ran a hand over the concrete. She looked up at Hope. ‘Blood.’
‘Great,’ said Hope. Just where have you brought us?’
‘I don’t know.’
A pained, bloodcurdling scream echoed m the distance.
‘I don’t think I like this place,’ said Hope.
The sound of things falling and smashing pierced the air. Gunshots and more frantic screaming followed this.
‘What exactly were you thinking about when we jumped?’ asked Hope.
‘I don’t thinks we shoulds be standin’ out heres inthe open,’ said Zyra, deflecting the question. ‘We is too vulnerable.’
Zyra headed for the nearest doorway and stood under the awning in the shadows.
‘Now you’re just trying to distract me with that stupid gutter speak,’ said Hope, coming to join her.
‘Which means whatever you thought of, it wasn’t good.’
‘I was trying to get us to the Ultimate Gamer,’ said Zyra. ‘I was rushing because of the VIs and thinking of garners and then, well, I remembered what you called garners and -’
A loud moan from inside the shop made both the girls jump out from the doorway.
‘Oh no,’ said Hope. ‘You didn’t.’
The door smashed open and someone came shuffling out. Actually, it was more of a something
- something that had once been human, but was no more. It had wide, bloodshot eyes and thin, peeling lips drawn back from blackened, rotting teeth. It drooled a foul-smelling ichor as it made a horrible moaning sound. Lank, filthy hair hung down around its face. Its flesh was stretched tight around its skull, with strips hanging loose and flapping about as it lurched forward.
‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ shouted Hope. ‘You thought about zombies. Of all the stupid, ridiculous things to-’
‘Hey, don’t blame me,’ Zyra yelled back. ‘You is the one who first mentioned them!’
More creatures came lurching out from the shop, staggering between the girls like a line of lemmings, and heading down the street. In the distance they saw someone duck out from another shop, look towards them, and take off in the opposite direction.
‘Brains!’
Zyra and Hope whirled back to the doorway. As the row of zombies stumbled along, one of them stepped out of line towards Zyra. It held a dismembered, human arm in its hand, blood still dripping from the end. And it was looking straight at her.
‘One of ‘em is looking at me,’ called Zyra.
‘It can’t see you,’ shouted Hope over the top of the shuffling undead. She tried to calm her voice.
‘It’s just looking at the street behind you, that’s all. It can’t see you. It doesn’t know we’re here. We are not playing the game.’
‘Are you trying to convince me?’ Zyra’s voice wasa bit shaky, although more controlled than Hope’s.
‘Or yourself?’
‘Brains!’ The zombie smiled a revolting, blackened, rotting grin, and tossed the arm at Zyra. It landed at her feet. ‘Fresh, brains,’ it moaned, reaching out towards her.
Zyra unhooked the crossbow from her belt. Within seconds it was loaded and aimed at the approaching monstrosity.
Hope tried to get through the column of moving corpses. But they were part of the game and she was not, and she could not touch them, let alone push through them.
‘Girl brains,’ intoned the solo zombie, as it lurchedtowards Zyra.
‘It can definitely see me,’ yelled Zyra, firing her crossbow at point-blank range. The bolt thudded into the creature’s forehead, right between the eyes. Blood trickled down its nose as it staggered back. Regaining its footing, it reeled forward, making a grab for Zyra.
‘Run,’ cried Hope.
Zyra threw the crossbow at it and took off. The weapon thudded into its chest and fell to the ground as the creature gave chase with a surprisingly speedy shuffling run.
The last of the undead came out of the shop and
Hope was finally able to get past, sprinting after Zyra and her pursuer.
Zyra turned a corner and found herself in a dead end alley. Turning back, she saw the creature closing in. Hope appeared behind it, firing her pistol. Little blooms of red blossomed on the zombie’s tattered clothing. It turned on Hope. Zyra grabbed the opportunity, launching herself at it, kicking out with her booted feet. She caught it on the back of its neck. There was a sickening snap and it fell to the ground as Zyra continued over it. She ran to Hope and flung her arms around her.
And they jumped.
15: IDD
‘It is complete,’ announced Professor Palimpsest.
‘The Interface Discharge Device. Yes. Or the IDD. Yes, yes.’
; He proudly displayed the cobbled together apparatus. It looked like a weird cross between a gun and a syringe. Held together with wires and electrical tape, its large glass cylinder was filled with static from the Interface.
‘It’s been a long time coming.’ Tee took hold of it, feeling the weight of it in his hands.
‘I know. Yes, yes, yes.’ The professor nodded. ‘Asyou see, the syringe is filled with the substance of the Interface. When you press the trigger, a portion is released along an electric discharge, which is generated here.’ He tapped the rubber-enclosed chamber beneath the syringe. ‘Here, here.’
‘Hangs on a tick,’ interrupted Tark. ‘Aren’t the VI things made of the same staticy stuff as wots in there?’ He pointed to the syringe. ‘Won’t ya just kinda be feedin’ ‘em?’
The professor looked shocked. ‘No,’ he said slowly, moving his head from one side to the other. ‘No. No.’ He shook his head more vigorously, as if dispelling unwanted doubts. ‘No, no, no, no, no. As far as I can tell, the VIs are some form of virus. Their make up is similar to the static substance of the Interface between environments - but it is a corrupted version. The pure substance from the Interface should counteract the viral aspects of the VIs. Should. Yes. Should.’
‘Like when the VI absorption of an essential character causes a rift to the Interface?’ said Tee.
‘Which always ends in the destruction of the VI.’
‘Indeed. Indeed.’ The professor smiled, relief clear on his face. ‘Yes, yes, yes. That is it. Yes. Should.’
The lack of conviction was plain upon Tark’s face.
‘Should? As far as ya knows?’
‘Well ... urn ... ah ...’ Palimpsest fumbled for words. ‘It is all theory. Yes. But.’ He held up a finger and waggled it at Tark. ‘But, but. Theory based on prior experience and observation. Yes. All our anti VI developments have been based on this theory. Yes. The patches. Yes. The bolts. Yes.’ He smiled triumphantly. ‘They work. Yes. As shall the IDD. Yes, yes.’
Tark glowered, still not entirely convinced.
The professor shifted his attention back to the IDD before Tark had the chance to raise any more questions. He indicated a dial on the side of the rubber-enclosed chamber. ‘This controls the amount of electricity that is discharged and therefore the amount of Interface substance that is released and fired at the target. I am not sure how much will be needed, so I have set it to the lowest setting. You will need to try it and adjust the setting if necessary. Yes, yes. Adjust.’
‘Why nots just bumps up the setting now?’ asked
Tark.
‘Brim-full of questions, aren’t we? Hmm.’ The professor fiddled with the buttons on his lab coat, his lips curling into a tight smile. ‘The higher the setting, the fewer times the IDD may be fired.’
‘Oh.’ Tark stared at the professor.
‘Oh, indeed,’ said the professor. ‘Indeed, indeed. At its lowest setting, you have fifty shots. At its highest, you have ten.’
‘What if the highest setting isn’t high enough?’ asked Tee. h. Yes.’ The professor scratched at his goatee.
‘Yes. I did take that possibility into account. There is an override switch.’ He slid aside a panel next to the dial on the IDD, revealing a small switch. ‘That will override the settings and empty the remaining contents in one continuous discharge.’
‘Whats if -’ Tark began.
‘If it doesn’t work?’ Palimpsest cut him off. ‘Run, run, run!’
As Tark and Tee turned to leave the professor’s workshop, they found Gal standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
‘I should be going instead of Tark,’ he said. Tee shook his head. ‘I need Tark with me.’
‘Why?’ demanded Gal. ‘Because he’s potentially you?’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Well, he isn’t yet. He hasn’t been an Outer for long and we don’t know if he’s trustworthy.’ He strode into the workshop. ‘But here you are, showing him the latest research, taking him on a vital mission.’
‘I trust him,’ said Tee, looking at Tark rather than at Gal. ‘I trust him with my life.’
‘I don’t.’ Gal paced back to the doorway.
‘Fine,’ said Tee. ‘Then you can come with us.’
Tee clapped Tark reassuringly on the back before walking out. Tark followed, murmuring ‘Snotling’, as he passed Gal.
Gal glared at their backs for some time before alsoleaving.
Professor Palimpsest shook his head slowly. ‘It doesn’t really matter who goes. No. So long as they can run, run, run.’
16: No-man’s-land
‘That was impossible.’ Hope’s voice was shaky. She was still holding onto Zyra.
‘Yeah, well, it happened, didn’t it?’ Zyra did her best to keep her voice steady. ‘You can let go of me now.’
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ said Hope, releasing Zyra, and holstering her pistol. ‘That thing shouldn’t have been able to see us.’
‘So you keep saying.’ Zyra stared at Hope. ‘I thinkthat unicorn was looking at us, too. I think you’re wrong. I think some people and creatures can see us.’ Hope looked away and gazed around at theirsurroundings. ‘Where are we?’
‘No idea!’ Zyra also looked around.
They were standing in mud. It was a flat, featureless landscape, with sodden ground as far as the eye could see. The sky was dark and brooding with storm clouds blocking out the sun. In the dim light, Zyra and Hope saw twisted masses of barbed wire. An icy wind blew across the desolate terrain, making them shiver despite their warm clothing.
‘What were you thinking when we jumped?’ asked
Hope.
‘Nothing,’ said Zyra, trudging off to examine the nearest coil of barbed wire. ‘I wasn’t thinking of any place. I was just scared. I thought we were about to die.’ She pushed at the wire with a booted foot.
‘So we’re nowhere?’ Hope slowly turned 360 degrees, carefully surveying the landscape. A bitter wind howled past. ‘Some sort of war zone?’
‘No-man’s-land!’ Zyra cried, looking up fromthe wire. ‘The unoccupied area of ground between enemy trenches during a war.’
She caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye and spun around.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Hope.
‘Not sure,’ answered Zyra, eyes searching the terrain. All was still. ‘I thought I saw something.’ She took a few steps and then spotted a shape lying in the mud. A rifle. Eyes lighting up, she moved to get it.
‘Where are you going?’ demanded Hope. ‘Don’t go too far. We don’t want to get separated.’
Moving quickly, Zyra bent down to scoop up the rifle. But all she got was a handful of mud. She tried again, but her fingers were unable to grasp it.
‘Damn!’
When Zyra straightened up, she again saw movement. Was the ground moving? No! It was a soldier. Covered in muck from head to toe, he crawled slowly across the desolate battlefield towards her. Reaching out a camouflaged hand, he grasped the rifle and continued, blending in with his surrounds. Zyra blinked in disbelief When she looked back, she could no longer locate the soldier.
‘We’re in the middle of something,’ called Zyra.
‘No kidding,’ said Hope.
‘I just saw a gamer.’
A distant rumble interrupted them. Hope looked towards Zyra. ‘Thunder?’
A high-pitched, whining, whistling sound filled themr.
‘I don’t think so,’ yelled Zyra.
A patch of ground a couple of hundred metres from them erupted in a massive explosion. Both girls ducked as dirt rained down on them.
‘I don’t like this place,’ complained Hope, still cowenng.
‘Me neither,’ agreed Zyra, standing and trying to brush mud from her coat. She looked in the directi
on of the explosion and thought she could see mangled bodies. She shuddered and turned back towards Hope. ‘Well, let’s not stay here.’
Another rumble filled the air, closer this time, and the whistling sound started again. They looked up to see something streaking through the sky towards them.
‘Run!’ yelled Zyra.
They sprinted as the ground between them erupted, the force of the explosion propelling them through the air.
Zyra hit the ground, face down.
Hope landed on her side, dazed. Before she had time to recover, hands appeared from a concealed trench, grasped her and pulled her down.
Zyra sat up, coughing and spitting mud. She wiped the muck from her face as best she could and looked around. It was as before - an endless, featureless terrain, broken only by the occasional coil of barbed wire. She could discern no movement.
She called out. ‘Hope!’
There was no answer.
‘Hope!’
Zyra struggled to her feet, weighed down by her sodden clothing. Her precious coat was barely recognisable as red. She looked about, trying to spot Hope.
‘Hope!’ she called out again, an edge of panic toher voice.
Where could she be? Zyra’s mind raced through possibilities as she frantically scanned the surroundings. Was Hope tangled in barbed wire? she wondered. Swallowed up by the mud? Torn apart by the explosion? Dying? Already dead?
Zyra staggered back to where the shell had hit, her coat flapping about her legs, and examined the muddy crater. No sign of her friend. She stumbled on in the direction she thought Hope had been thrown, eyes scouring the ground as she went. Up ahead, she saw a person-sized depression in the ground. She crouched down to examine it closer. It looked like she had landed there and then ... rolled away. But where to?
Zyra stood up, stepped over the depression, and fell into a trench -face down in the muck, again. She howled with rage as she sat up, wiping her face and spitting dirt. Opening her eyes, she looked straight up the barrel of a rifle. A man in a grey uniform clutched the weapon. He had a voluminous coat wrapped around him and a gas mask over his face.
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