The professor walked past Tark.
‘Waits,’ called Tark. ‘There’s gotta be sumthin’ else the rest of us can do.’ He looked around the workshop and spotted the empty IDD. ‘Wot about that thing?’
‘No,’ said the professor, stopping at the door. ‘No. It does not hold enough charge. You would simply be giving the antivirus program more power.’
‘But -’ Tark’s voice was tinged with desperation.
‘Matters are out of your hands.’ The professor headed out the door mumbling, ‘Out, out, out.’
Tark lowered his eyes and saw the cable snaking itsway to the alcove at the back of the workshop, a soft sizzling glow emanating from the darkness. His eyes followed the cable up to the professor’s switchbox. ‘I wunda.’
He rummaged through the professor’s workshop, looking in the piles of equipment on the workbenches, the boxes full of spare parts and the lockers with additional equipment. Finally he found what he needed under the main workbench.
Tark made his way back to the common room and sidled up to Zyra.
‘I has an idea,’ he whispered.
‘Shhh,’ Zyra responded. ‘Look.’ She pointed up at the screen.
The Fat Man and the Static Man were still exchanging blows. The Fat Man’s clothes were ragged and he was bleeding from wounds on his face. His steps were faltering, his punches often mistimed and having little effect. By contrast the Static Man was full of energy, leaping about and delivering well placed blows that sent its opponent staggering and falling.
Tark looked over at the Ultimate Gamer. He had again lost his sheen, with a spreading blackness inking its way through the liquid silver.
Tark shook Zyra’s shoulder urgently. ‘I’ve gats anidea and I needs yar ‘elp.’
‘What?’ asked Zyra, looking away from the screen.
‘Ya needs ta come with me ta the professor’s workshop,’ said Tark. ‘I thinks there’s a way we can
‘elps the gamer dude.’
Tee and Hope gasped, eyes glued to the screen. Tark and Zyra looked up.
Professor Palimpsest was reaching out a hand to the light grid. He touched the perimeter and was suddenly inside. He strode across the grid to where the Static Man stood over the slumped form of the Fat Man.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘This really is not acceptable behaviour. No. No. No.’
The Static Man turned around and grabbed the professor in a big bear-hug. Palimpsest slowly sank into the static, his features distorting and dispersing until there was nothing left of him.
Hope gasped again and Tee muttered, ‘What was he trying to prove?’.
‘Now,’ hissed Tark. ‘We’ve gats ta go now.’
‘All right,’ said Zyra, as Tark led her out of the common room and into the workshop. ‘What’s this brilliant idea of yours?’
‘What’s this brilliant idea of yours?’ repeated
Tark. He paused and looked suspiciously at Zyra.
‘Wot’s with the fancy talk?’
‘Oh.’ Zyra waved her hand dismissively. ‘I’ve decided to overcome my programming.’
‘Why?’ he demanded.
‘Because it’s what I want to do.’ Zyra put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, daring Tark to make an issue of it. ‘Now tell me about your idea.’
Tark stared at her for a moment before answering.
‘We needs ta overload the antivirus program.’ He patted the IDD on the workbench.
‘That won’t work,’ said Zyra. ‘We need a direct feed to the Interface in order to overload it.’
‘We will,’ said Tark, picking up a roll of cable. ‘We plugs one end inta the IDD and the other inta one of
‘em cracks in the wall.’
Zyra played with the stud in her lip and swiped at her hair. ‘What if it overloads the IDD?’
Tark shrugged. ‘At leasts we’ll have tried.’
‘Okay,’ said Zyra. ‘You better have a long lead.’ Tark passed the cable to Zyra. ‘This ‘ere is thelongest I could finds.’
Zyra examined it. ‘This won’t go very far. We need to find an exposed area of Interface closer to the cave entrance.’
32: Battle in the Light Grid- Endgame
The Static Man turned its attention back to the Fat Man, who was standing again. ‘Time to end this, I think.’
‘No,’ said Professor Palimpsest.
‘What?’ The Static Man looked around for the disembodied voice.
‘What’s the matter?’ grunted the Fat Man as he threw a punch, hitting the Static Man in the gut.
The Static Man doubled over and the Fat Mankneed it in the face, sending it staggering back. The Static Man quickly recovered its balance, taking a menacing step forward.
As the Fat Man watched, a face rippled across thesurface of the Static Man’s stomach.
‘Indigestion?’ asked the Fat Man. ‘You should be careful what you eat.’
‘I can control this,’ said the Static Man.
The Fat Man hit it in the face. ‘Really?’ He hit it again. ‘You sure?’ And again.
The Static Man fell over, a face bubbling up in its chest.
‘There’s only one way to defeat it,’ said Professor Palimpsest’s face. ‘One, one, one. Interface. Unleashed. Full force. Will overload it.’
‘But -’ the Fat Man began but the professor cut him off.
‘Yes, yes, I know. It will kill, kill, kill you as well.’
The professor’s face wavered momentarily. ‘It’s the only way. Only way.’ The face contorted. ‘Ahhh.’ The professor’s face separated as if being pulled apart by unseen hands, dissolving back into the static.
The Static Man sat up. ‘I have dismembered his coding.’ The Static Man stood. ‘And now I shall dismember yours.’
‘I will defeat you,’ chuckled the Fat Man.
The Fat Man clasped his hands together, forming a double fist, and thrust it at the Static Man. A rush of static poured from the Fat Man’s hands, ramming into the Static Man, forcing it back against the grid’s perimeter. The Static Man howled with rage as it thrashed and twisted under the continual impact.
‘You’ll destroy yourself,’ yelled the Static Man.
‘And take you with me,’ said the Fat Man.
With great effort the Fat Man closed in step by-step, power rushing through him and into his opponent. The Static Man lost its form, its face becoming blobby and misshapen, its arms melting into its sides.
As he neared, the Fat Man’s steps began to falter. The Static Man reformed. ‘It’s doing more damage to you than me. I’m stronger. I can survive longer than you. You can’t channel enough.’
The Fat Man staggered to his knees, still discharging the Interface into the Static Man. But the discharge was weakening.
‘It’s frying your coding.’ The Static Man tooka step forward, pushing against the discharge of energy. ‘You are channelling less and less.’
33: Overload
Tark and Zyra sprinted into the common room, straight to Tee.
‘We has an idea,’ said Tark. ‘We needs ta gets tasum Interface, somewhere close ta the entrance.’
‘Why?’ asked Tee.
‘What are you up to?’ added Hope.
‘We don’t has time ta explain.’ Tark’s eyes met
Tee’s. ‘I need ya ta trusts me.’
Tee held his gaze for a moment and then spoke.
‘Stay here, Hope. Keep an eye on the screen and let me know if anything changes.’
Tee led Tark and Zyra to a side passage in theouter network of caves. It ended in a wall of static.
‘The largest we’ve found,’ said Tee.
‘Great.’ Zyra passed Tark the end of the cable that had a connection point. H
e plugged it into the back of the IDD. Zyra held out the other end to Tee.
Tee’s face went white and he opened his mouth to protest.
‘Please,’ said Tark. ‘Trusts me. Trust us!’
Tee hesitated. One look into Zyra’s eyes, even though they were not his Zyra’s eyes, and he switched off the force-field. Taking the cable from Zyra, he examined it. Tendrils of silver wire hung limply from its end.
‘Stand back,’ he said, holding up the end of thecable towards the wall of static.
The wire tendrils rose up, reaching out for the Interface. Tee moved the cable closer and wisps of sizzling greyness wound through the air towards the tendrils. When they touched, energy crackled around them and the cable was yanked from Tee’s hands, plunging into the depths of the static that was the emptiness between worlds.
The IDD almost jumped from Tark’s arms as theraw power of the Interface hit it, filling the syringe in seconds flat. Tark clutched it to his chest as it shuddered.
‘I’ll stay here,’ said Tee, holding up the remote.
‘If there’s any trouble, I’ll switch on the force-field, which will sever the cable and cut the power.’
‘Thanks,’ Tark said.
‘Good luck,’ called Tee, as the pair headed out. The first thing that Tark and Zyra saw as theyemerged into the daylight was the light grid which dominated the landscape between the mountains and the Forest. Within it, the Fat Man was on his knees, a waning stream of static surging towards the Static Man. Step by step, the Static Man closed in on the Fat Man.
‘Drop the perimeter,’ yelled Zyra.
The Fat Man glanced over his shoulder. He saw Tark and Zyra standing at the edge of the light grid holding the IDD between them, and smiled.
‘That won’t work,’ laughed the Static Man. ‘Itdoesn’t hold enough power.’
The Fat Man jerked his head to one side and the light grid disappeared.
As Tark flicked the override switch and fired the IDD, the Static Man caught a glimpse of the cable snaking its way from the weapon into the darkness of the Outers’ cave. A plethora of faces appeared within the static form of its body, all shouting ‘Nooo!’ Tark and Zyra clutched the weapon, desperately trying to hold their position and keep it aimed as lightning blasted from the IDD towards the Static
Man.
Hit by the full force of the discharge, the Static Man had time for one guttural howl before it lost its shape.
The energy of the Interface sped along the electricdischarge, coursing through the antivirus program, overloading its programming, frying its coding, line by line. Faces appeared within its depths - screaming, contorting faces that disintegrated. Streams of numbers rushed across the surface of the static, each one disappearing - and with each deletion, the program became less and less.
Eyes closed tight against the overpowering glare, ears ringing with the roaring of the discharge, Tark and Zyra hoped that they were doing the right thing. It seemed like they were frozen in time, their minds playing back their lives. The game, the dangers, the thieving; the World and Suburbia; the Fat Man, the Cracker, Edgar and Vera; love and ice-cream. All messed up and mixed up and blended into one continuous stream that spun relentlessly through their heads.
‘Stoppp!’ A voice broke into their thoughts.
Zyra cracked open an eye.
It was the Fat Man shouting. ‘Stop!’
There was nothing left of the antivirus program. The blazing energy that arced from the IDD was scorching across the ground in random waves, splitting apart the environment, revealing the Interface beyond.
Zyra nudged Tark, who opened his eyes and took in the scene.
‘We need ta cuts the power,’ he called over the sound of wildly discharging energy as their world ripped apart.
‘Can you hold it?’ cried Zyra. ‘While I get to Tee?’
‘I’ll try.’
Zyra released the IDD and ran for the cave entrance. The IDD quaked with power as it spewed energy indiscriminately. Tark found himself dragged off his feet. He tried to hold on as long as he could, but it slipped from his grasp and Tark crashed to the stony ground. As it launched up into the air, the syringe shattered and the static burst from it in a short, sharp explosion.
And then all was still and quiet. The haphazard wounds into the Interface healed as if they had never been there.
Tark opened his eyes. Zyra and Tee were running from the cave towards him. He staggered to his feet and found himself in Zyra’s embrace.
When they released each other, they saw the
Fat Man lying unmoving on the ground. His eyes flickered open when they approached.
‘So, it worked?’ said Tee.
‘Yes,’ the Fat Man gasped. His eyes closed and his body disappeared in a shimmer of light.
‘The Ultimate Gamer,’ said Tark at the same time as Zyra cried, ‘Bobby!’
The three of them ran for the common room.
34: Goodbyes
Hope was staring up at the podium when Tark, Zyra and Tee ran in. The Ultimate Gamer wavered unsteadily, his form blackened and charred. The loops of gold were barely moving at all.
‘He don’t looks too good,’ said Tark.
‘I think he’s dying,’ added Hope.
Zyra ran up to the foot of the podium. ‘Are you going to be all right?’
The Ultimate Gamer slowly shook his head.
‘What about Bobby?’ Zyra persisted. ‘Is he you? Is he okay?’
‘We are each other’s avatars.’ The Ultimate
Gamer’s voice was weak and crackly. ‘We are two sides of the same coin. He is the desire to play. I am the ability.’
The loops stopped spinning and fell from the podium, dispersing into dust when they hit the ground.
The Ultimate Gamer shuddered and slowly leaned forward. As the podium crumbled beneath him, he fell.
Bobby hit the ground at Zyra’s feet, his clothing singed and smoking.
‘Bobby,’ she gasped.
‘No more games,’ he said, lying still. ‘No more winning.’
‘Oh, Bobby.’ Zyra’s eyes misted over.
‘I wanted to play forever.’ A tear welled up m the corner of Bobby’s eye, trailed down his cheek and splashed onto the dusty ground. ‘Damn the Designers.’
His eyes closed, his breathing ceased and he began to shimmer.
‘Wait,’ called Hope. ‘What about the cheat code? How do we get out of here?’
‘I am the key,’ Bobby whispered, even though his lips were still.
One by one, solid particles became shining pixels,until their light faded and Bobby’s body was no longer there. In its place something began to take form - a small oblong.
As it solidified into plastic, Zyra realised what it was. ‘A Designers Paradise key,’ she breathed.
Tark and Zyra, and Hope and Tee formed a semicircle around the key, gazing down at it in reverence.
Hope bent down and snatched it up, turning it over in her hands. It was white and blank - no logo, no embedded chip, nothing. ‘Now what?’
Tee took the key. He too examined it. ‘We find a way to use it.’
‘Bobby was scared of whatever is out there,’ said
Zyra. ‘He wanted to stay inside the game.’
‘Maybe we need to take this to the Oracle,’ said
Hope, ignoring Zyra.
‘We is Outers,’ said Tark. ‘It won’t interacts with us. ‘
‘Maybe it will only work for a particular person,’ suggested Tee. He held it out to Zyra.
Zyra reached out hesitantly with her forefinger and thumb, stopping millimetres short of the key. She took a deep breath, held it, glanced over at Tark, and gently took the key.
Nothing happened.
She released her breath and looked to Tark. He shrugged and took the key. It glowed briefly, and then went dull again.
Tark and Zyra stared at each other.
‘Both of you,’ said Tee. ‘It needs both of you.’
‘No way!’ complained Hope. ‘Why them? It should be me.’
Tee put a gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
‘It doesn’t really matter who gets out, so long as someone does.’
‘It matters to me,’ said Hope. ‘I always thoughtit would be me . . . us. You and me. Father and daughter - out in the real world.’
‘It’s better this way,’ Tee assured her. ‘It feels right that it’s Tark and Zyra. It was the original Tark and Zyra who, long ago, were the first Outers. It was me and my Zyra who had a child to fulfil the cheat code. And now it is this Tark and Zyra who will step out of the game.’
Hope’s shoulders slumped a little in acceptance. Tark held out his hand to Zyra. She smiled andtook it.
‘Zyra!’ Hope hesitantly stepped towards her. ‘I . . . I never knew my mother.’ She hurriedly searched for the right words. ‘I’m not saying you’re her, because you’re not. You’re not my mother. But .. . thanks for sticking with me.’
Zyra smiled and faced Tee. He didn’t say anything
- but his expression spoke of repeated loss and new hope. Zyra mouthed the words ‘Old Man’ and squeezed Tark’s hand.
‘Let’s go,’ she whispered.
‘Wait,’ said Tark. ‘It all started with a kiss.’
Zyra’s smile broadened and she leaned in to kiss
Tark. As their lips met, she touched the card.
01100101 0 1111000 0 1101001 0111 0 100 glowed across the surface of the key.
Everything they had ever known melted away as
Tark and Zyra finally, irreversibly, left the game.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to Ford Street for publishing this book and its predecessor, and for all the great feedback and assistance the staff provided.
As always, my wife, Kerri, who read and commented on my outline and early drafts. This time around she was also instrumental in the shaping of the story, courtesy of a brainstorming session during a long drive out to the country. I am indebted to her m so many ways.
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