Gamers' Challenge

by George Ivanoff

Lights blazed and the darkness was extinguished. Squinting through the glare, Zyra and Hope took in their surroundings. They were inside a massive pinball machine, standing in the middle of the lower level, surrounded by lights and bells and colours. Behind them, two more levels rose up like a construction site, ramps going up and down, more lights and bells, all draped in a candy-striped circus tent. In front of them, an enormous plastic clown’s face, mouth open in an unnaturally wide grin, stared at them with vacant eyes. Lurid, psychedelic patterns covered every surface, with distorted paintings of jugglers, fire-eaters and circus freaks glaring out at them from posters plastered haphazardly around the game.

  ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ said Zyra.

  ‘Really?’ Hope glared at Zyra. ‘No kidding?’

  ‘Maybe we should jump now?’ suggested Zyra.

  ‘No way!’ said Hope. ‘We need the Ultimate

  Gamer.’

  ‘Ready girls?’ cried the Pinball Wizard, as a wand appeared in his hand. ‘Time to play . . . Sudden Death Pinball!’

  ‘Sudden death?’ said Zyra and Hope together.

  ‘That’s right girls,’ said the Pinball Wizard. ‘If you get hit by a ball, you die. Suddenly.’

  Loud, discordant carnival music blared aroundthem.

  The Pinball Wizard waved his wand theatrically and pointed it at the clown face, which proceeded to spit out a large silver ball, aimed straight at them.

  Zyra and Hope jumped in opposite directions, the ball rolling between them.

  ‘Well, that wasn’t too hard,’ said Hope.

  ‘Run!’ yelled Zyra.

  The ball hit a rubber ring around one of the bells, making it clang, and bounce back towards Hope, accelerating. Coloured lights winked on and off around them, the music speeding up.

  Hope dodged the ball and ran for the nearest ramp. Zyra took off for the opposite side. The ball hit another bell and bounced to the far end of the game, gaining speed.

  The Pinball Wizard laughed and waved his wand,the clown face spitting out another three balls. One of the balls nestled itself into a depression in the floor, while the other two pursued Zyra and Hope up each ramp. The ball in the depression was then launched into the air, landing on the top level.

  Zyra and Hope met on the second level and bolted for the centre ramp leading to the top. The two balls pursuing them collided, exploding in a shower of sparks. Reaching the top level, the girls only had one ball to avoid, which seemed easy enough. But as they scurried across the checkerboard pattern on the floor, the ball suddenly disappeared through a trapdoor.

  Zyra and Hope froze, three of the black squares opening up in front of them. As they gazed around, trapdoors opened randomly across the floor.

  ‘Back to the ramp,’ yelled Zyra. Before she could move, the floor beneath her gave way. She landed hard on the second level. Seconds later Hope was sprawled a metre to her right. They scrambled to their feet.

  The ball that had fallen down before was still ricocheting about the second level, flung from one bell to another. Zyra dashed for the closest down ramp and Hope followed.

  They emerged onto the lower level in time to see a horde of balls gushing from the clown’s mouth. The Pinball Wizard’s laughter echoed from above.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Zyra.

  Lights and bells went off around them. Zyra ran towards the back corner on the lower level, dodging balls as she went. Hope followed.

  Nestled behind one of the ramps was a bell surrounded by a rubber ring. It was relatively out of the way, and unlikely to get many balls. Zyra drew one of her knives and got to work on the rubber.

  ‘Warn me if any balls head this way,’ she ordered

  Hope.

  ‘There’s one now,’ called Hope, immediately.

  The girls ran to one side. The ball hit the rubber ring, sounding the bell, and bounced off. Zyra quickly returned to cutting.

  ‘Almost got it.’

  ‘Another one,’ called Hope.

  Again, they jumped back out of the way. The ball hit the rubber ring; the bell rang, the ball rolled off and the piece of rubber snapped, flicking across the pinball game to the front of the lower level. It came to rest a short distance from the plastic clown face.

  ‘Come on,’ called Zyra, dodging, jumping and sidestepping balls as she raced forward.

  Reaching the strip of rubber, she picked it up, handing one side to Hope and keeping hold of the other.

  ‘Stretch it,’ she said. ‘It’s like a giant rubber band. We’ve got to use this to fling a ball up at the Pinhead Wizard.’

  As another ball came shooting from the clown’s mouth, the girls stretched the strip of rubber. The ball hit the centre of it. The girls gave it some slack and then pulled with all their might, trying to angle it upwards.

  The ball went sailing up into the air straight forthe Pinball Wizard. He ducked to one side, spinning a full 360 degrees.

  A siren blared. The balls froze, the bells stoppedringing and the coloured lights winked out. A bright pink neon sign above the circus tent flashed.

  TILT! TILT! TILT!

  ‘Cheaters!’ The Pinball Wizard’s voice screeched through the darkness.

  The TILT sign blew up in a burst of colour, raining sparks and shards of glass down onto the levels below. Around Zyra and Hope the light globes started bursting one by one, the flashes lighting up the pinball game with a strobing effect.

  Above the game, orange flames engulfed the Pinball Wizard as he spun through the air screaming. Eyes burning with rage, he pointed at the girls.

  ‘Cheaters!’ he screamed again. The flames grew, flaring out from him in all directions, as he swooped down towards Zyra and Hope.

  19: Reload

  ‘Very interesting,’ said Professor Palimpsest, scratching at his goatee. ‘Yes, yes, yes. Very, very.’

  ‘Interestin’?’ spluttered Tark, gesturing wildly withhis hands. ‘Ya stupid machine hads no effect on that

  ... that thing in the cave. And all ya gots ta says is interestin?’

  Tee put a hand on Tark’s shoulder to calm him down, and then looked at the professor. ‘So, what do you think happened?’

  ‘Well ... well, well, well. I would surmise that the discharge was not strong enough. Yes, that is what I would surmise.’

  ‘I used the override,’ said Tee.

  ‘Yeah,’ added Tark. ‘Maybe it just don’t works.’

  ‘You said my IDD was effective against the VIs.’ The professor nodded. ‘Yes, yes, yes. Therefore it should work on the manifestation in the cave. It is considerably more powerful and therefore needs a larger discharge. You had already expended a reasonable amount of the substance on the VIs. Yes.’

  ‘So, you think a full discharge should do it?’ asked

  Tee.

  The professor shrugged. ‘It seems .. . possible.’ Tark snorted.

  ‘Well, now. If I had more time, I could perhaps attach a second syringe,’ said the professor. ‘Thus expanding the storage capacity. Yes.’

  ‘How much time?’ asked Tee.

  ‘Oh dear, dear, dear.’ The professor scratched at his head with one hand, stroking his goatee with the other. ‘I would have to take the whole thing apart. So well . . . let me think . . . at least, well, at least six or seven hours, I should think. Maybe more. Yes, maybe, maybe. Yes.’

  ‘Yar kiddin’?’ huffed Tark.

  ‘Oh, no, no, no,’ assured the professor. ‘I do not ... kid. No.’

  ‘We don’t have the time,’ said Tee. ‘That thing looked like it was going to break through the force field. We need to hit it ASAP, and we need to hit it hard.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Tark. ‘Hard enough ta thrash the static outs of it.’

  ‘Well, well, we can charge it up
right now.’ The professor took the IDD from Tee and carried it over to a workbench. Picking up a cable, he plugged it into the back of the IDD.

  ‘Wot’s that?’ asked Tark.

  ‘Ahhh.’ The professor’s eyes lit up. ‘I have set up a link to an exposed area of Interface.’ He pointed to a cable. One end snaked across the ground into an alcove in the rock wall at the back of the workshop. The other end was plugged into a box with switches on the workbench. Numerous cables protruded from the box, leading to a variety of devices, including the IDD.

  ‘This is like a switchboard,’ explained the professor.

  ‘From here I charge the bolts and the patches. Yes. As well as any experimental devices, such as the IDD.’

  He flicked a switch on the box and the IDD filledwith static. Then the professor disconnected it.

  ‘The very best of luck.’ The professor handed the weapon to Tee. ‘Luck, luck.’

  ‘We needs more than luck,’ complained Tark. ‘Weneeds betta weapons. I is gonna has to keep the VIs busy while Tee blasts the thing in the cave.’

  ‘Well, well, well.’ A smile crept across the professor’s face. ‘I have been working on other things.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ A glimmer of interest entered Tark’s eyes. ‘Anythin’ I coulds use?’

  ‘Hmmm.’ The professor raised a bushy eyebrow.

  ‘Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. You would need, I presume, something that can fire more than one shot?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Preferably rapid fire?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tark said again, with greater enthusiasm. The professor held up a hand. ‘Now, I have not, asyet, had the opportunity to properly conduct all the necessary testing, but-’

  ‘Yeah?’ Tark raised his hands impatiently.

  The professor shuffled off to a locker at the other end of his workshop and came back carrying a large weapon that vaguely resembled an oversized double crossbow. Its centre was encased in a black cylinder with a series of holes at one end. At the business end, a long metal tube protruded.

  ‘A rapid fire crossbow,’ announced the professor.

  He handed it to Tark, who turned the weapon over, examining it from all sides, disappointment evident on his face.

  ‘Don’t ya has any guns?’ asked Tark. ‘Likes the one Hope wuz usin’? Or maybe one of them machineguns the guards on the Hill has?’

  ‘No guns, I’m afraid. No, no,’ lamented the professor.

  ‘I already told you,’ added Tee. ‘We only have what we can salvage.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I knows,’ grumbled Tark. ‘But it ain’t fair.’

  ‘You will have to make do with what is at hand,’ said the professor, patting the experimental crossbow that Tark was holding. ‘This is loaded with forty-two bolts and has a double action, twin-bow setup. Yes. As the first bow fires, its release of power not only launches a bolt, but also pulls back the second bow, ready for firing, whilst also slotting the next bolt in place.’

  Tark looked at the weapon with respect.

  ‘Pull the trigger and release, to fire one bolt.

  Keep the trigger pulled back for rapid fire. It has the capacity, in theory, to fire one bolt per second. I will be endeavouring to increase the speed for the next model. Yes.’

  ‘In theory?’ Tark’s enthusiasm wavered.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes, in theory. As I said, it requires further testing.’ The professor smiled. ‘Testing, testing, testing. That is what you shall be doing.’

  ‘lnd how do you reload?’ asked Tee.

  ‘lh.’ The professor’s forehead creased into a heavy frown. ‘That is the drawback. It must be returned here for reloading. Yes! Here!’

  ‘Forty-two is enough,’ Tark said.

  ‘Thanks, Prof,’ said Tee. ‘Come on, Tark, we need to get going.’

  The professor watched them leave. He removedhis glasses and rubbed at his worried eyes. ‘Dear, oh dear,’ he whispered to himself ‘Dear, dear, dear.’

  ***

  ‘You’re taking him with you again?’ Gal shook hishead incredulously.

  ‘It’s my decision,’ said Tee flatly.

  ‘Your decisions are becoming questionable,’ said

  Gal. ‘Tark’s too erratic and too new to all this.’

  ‘lnd if you’re going to question every decision Imake, then I can’t risk taking you along.’

  Gal folded his arms and glared. ‘He can’t even speak properly.’

  ‘I can, if I so choose,’ Tark piped up, scowling at

  Gal. ‘I am not the moron you think me to be. I have spent a great deal of my gaming life in Suburbia as John Hayes, speaking the way supposedly normal people do. I can speak like you if I want to. But I is choosin’ ta speaks like me.’

  Gal stared at him in stunned silence.

  ‘Get a team together,’ said Tee, stifling a smirk.

  ‘We leave in five minutes.’ Gal huffed and left.

  ‘He hates me,’ said Tark, glaring at Gal’s back.

  ‘He’s not all that fond of me either,’ said Tee. ‘It’s a hangover from the game. Our characters were often opponents.’

  Tark remembered how he stole the sword o’lightfrom Princeling Galbrath.

  ‘Now,’ said Tee, his expression turning grave. ‘Are you okay to come along? I need to know I can trust you.’

  ‘Ya can,’ assured Tark. ‘Last time wuz . .. it’s just that I is worried about Zyra. I knows she can takes care of ‘erself. But ...’

  ‘I know,’ said Tee. ‘It’s hard when you know she’sin danger and there’s not much you can do.’

  ‘I feels helpless. Useless.’

  ‘And you’ve never felt like that before,’ said Tee.

  ‘Playing the game was a lot easier, wasn’t it? There was no helplessness. There was always something to do, one more trick to try. If Zyra was in danger, you’d just go and help her and save the day. But now you can’t, and there are all these feelings that go along with it.’ Tee managed a wan smile. ‘I know exactly how you feel. But I don’t have a magik solution. It doesn’t get any easier. You just learn to cope. And there’s always ... hope.’

  Tark looked into Tee’s violet eyes - tired,surrounded by creases, yet still sparkling with life. They were his own. ‘Let’s go.’

  20:Bobby

  Flames consumed the Pinball Wizard as he landed. Zyra and Hope had to shield their eyes and faces from the heat.

  ‘It’s okay,’ someone said. ‘You can look now.’ Slowly, Zyra and Hope turned around.

  The Pinball Wizard was gone. In his place was a young boy. He was dressed in white trainers, faded blue jeans and a red T-shirt with the slogan Born to Play emblazoned across it. He didn’t look a day over twelve.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ He ran a hand through his light brown curls. ‘Sometimes I get a bit carried away.’

  Zyra and Hope stood gaping at the boy.

  ‘You mean -’ began Hope.

  ‘You’re -’ started Zyra.

  ‘Yep.’ The boy nodded shyly. ‘I’m the Ultimate

  Gamer.’

  ‘But,’ said Zyra. ‘What about the guy in the uniform?’

  ‘That was me,’ said the boy. ‘It was an avatar.’

  ‘Oh.’ Zyra and Hope looked at each other and then back at the boy.

  ‘My name’s Bobby.’ The boy stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked at the floor with his feet. ‘You guys have been looking for me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Hope. ‘We have.’

  Zyra and Hope looked at each other again.

  ‘It’s just that .. .’ Zyra looked back at Bobby.

  ‘You’re not what we expected.’

  ‘What did you expect?’ asked Bobby.

  ‘Don’t know,’ admitted
Zyra. ‘But you’re not it.’

  ‘Oh, well,’ said Bobby. ‘I guess I should go then.’

  ‘No!’ Zyra and Hope called out together.

  ‘Please don’t go,’ said Hope. ‘We really do want to talk to you.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ A mischievous twinkle shone in the boy’s eyes. ‘So what do you want to talk about?’

  ‘Is the cheat code real?’ asked Hope.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘You have the key to the real world? A way out of here?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Hope glanced at Zyra.

  ‘If you’ve got a way out of here, why are you still here?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘I don’t want to go,’ answered Bobby,matter-of-factly.

  ‘What?’ said Hope, frowning.

  ‘Why not?’ demanded Zyra.

  ‘Why would I want to leave?’ He looked at them as if they were complete idiots. ‘I want to play.’

  ‘You want to play?’ Hope said slowly, as if grappling with the concept.

  ‘Yeah! Play!’ There was excitement in his voice.

  ‘I am the Ultimate Gamer, you know. In here, I can control things. I can play whatever I want to play, how I want to play it. It’s awesome! I love it!’ His cheeks were flushed with exhilaration, accentuating his freckles. ‘Every time I win, it’s like ... it’s like the best feeling ever.’ He paused and frowned. ‘I don’t even know what’s out there, beyond the game.’

  ‘Freedom,’ said Zyra.

  ‘What do you do with freedom when you get it?’ asked Bobby.

  Neither Zyra nor Hope knew how to respond to that.

  ‘I’ve got all the freedom I want,’ explained Bobby.

  ‘The freedom to play. The freedom to win. The freedom to be whoever I want to be.’

  ‘So, is this really you?’ asked Zyra, tentatively.

  ‘Good question.’ Bobby smirked, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, eyes widening with mock mnocence.

  ‘Well, how about a good answer?’ prompted Zyra.

  ‘You’re not very patient, are you?’ Bobby’s body stretched and his clothes darkened. His voice took on a cold, calculated tone. ‘Patience is a virtue. Or so I have been reliably informed.’