by Tara Maya, Elle Casey, J L Bryan, Anthea Sharp, Jenna Elizabeth Johnson, Alexia Purdy (epub)
The skinny boy flushed, but he didn’t say anything. Clearly Fernald was alpha dog in the Gaming Club.
“Or you could face off with Shella.” Fernald nodded to the purple-haired girl. “You know, stay at the female level. Girl on girl.”
This guy was an idiot. Jennet stepped forward. “Who’s the best player here? That’s the one I’m dueling.”
Fernald gave her a mean smile. “You’re looking at him.”
“Then we’re on.”
She was glad, actually. Fernald was too full of himself by far. And he was in for a serious battle, whether he knew it or not.
There was a general scramble as the gamers shifted, and an empty chair opened up for her. Jennet sat, put on the headset, and gave the 3D-mouse a couple test swipes.
It had been months since she’d played Rumble, but it was a pretty simple PVP combat game. The worst that could happen was that Fernald would end up beating her. She pressed her lips together. If he proved to be the best gamer in school, she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask his arrogant face for help - let alone spend time in Feyland with him.
“We’ll go Basic Mode, just for you,” Fernald said. “How’s that sound?”
Jennet shook her head. She wanted to push him, and herself, to the limit. “Hard Mode. Best two out of three.”
“You really want to eat cement twice in a row?” Fernald gave her a look of mock sympathy. “I’m not gonna cut you any breaks.”
“Whatever.” She selected the Rumble icon and pressed the play button.
The pre-set characters popped up, a dozen of them on the selection screen. She didn’t hesitate in making her choice - Nika, the ninja assassin. All that time spent dueling her friends last spring was about to pay off. If she wasn’t too rusty. She had one chance to remember how to play - one loss she could absorb. After that, she’d better be on.
“Ready,” she said, meeting Fernald’s stare.
“Ok, princess. Show me what you got.”
The arena appeared, a big walled circle enclosing the characters. Inside were the usual obstacles and traps: randomly scattered mines, a pit, some pillars, and a couple floating platforms. Jennet clicked through the function bars, reminding herself of Nika’s combat skills. Slice, Leap, Throwing Star, Dash.
Then Fernald’s character materialized - a massive tank-bot called Reaper. Good. That thing carried a lot of armor and some serious weaponry, but it was clumsy. She had the advantage of speed and maneuverability.
The tank-bot moved forward, bladed hands snicking together, but Jennet was faster. She leaped Nika onto one of the platforms and got a couple throwing-stars off. One of them stuck into the metal side of Reaper’s head, like a jagged earring, but it didn’t cause much damage. For that, she’d need to hit the vital spots - eyes, neck, under the ribs.
Reaper lurched forward, one arm now transformed into a laser-cannon. Red beams sliced the air, and she somersaulted Nika out of the way. Adrenaline zinged through her, and she felt her focus tighten up. Every shift of her fingers sent her character dancing away from the tank-bot.
Fernald let out a vicious laugh. “Fancy moves aren’t going to win this for you. Listen. You can still surrender.”
“I don’t think so.” Jennet dodged away, keeping far enough that Reaper couldn’t hack at her, but not so far that he could use his cannon again.
Just in time, she realized Fernald was backing her into the pit. Certain death from razor-sharp stakes waited at the bottom. For a moment Nika teetered on the edge, and she heard the other gamers suck in their breaths. She twisted the mouse violently and managed to fling her character to the side. Too slow. She’d evaded the pit, but the tank-bot was on her, clashing and slicing. There was no escape. Her screen flashed red, and Nika went down in a splash of blood and flutter of black cloth, defeated.
Jennet let out a silent breath. Okay. One round gone. She had to do better than that. She would do better than that.
“Yeah!” Fernald leaned back and cracked his knuckles. “You like that? Want some more?”
She was getting the rhythm of the game back into her body. This next fight she’d go on the offensive, take the tank-bot down with a quick assault. She didn’t think Fernald would expect that.
“Best two, remember?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “If you can beat me again, that is.”
“Heh. In your dreams.”
This time, when the arena opened, she didn’t hesitate. In two fast moves, she blocked Reaper’s clashing hands and slid a blade into his right eye. With a clank and groan, the tank-bot tilted and fell backwards. The ground shook when he landed, and a puff of dust rose in the air.
The gamers were silent. Most of them were staring at Fernald’s screen, but Marny was looking straight at her. A smile lifted the corner of the big girl’s mouth.
Fernald’s expression was as black and stormy as a tornado. “Lucky break. It happens. Even the worst noobs sometimes win - by a fluke.”
“But, dude,” the skinny boy began.
“Shut it, Clarc,” Fernald gave him an elbow to the side. “And get out of my way. It’s time to take the princess down.” He shot Jennet a narrow-eyed look. “Here comes your loss.”
He’d be on guard now, but Jennet knew she could take him. She grinned at him over the screen.
“In your dreams,” she said. She heard Marny smother a laugh.
Fernald scowled at her. Good. She had no doubt he’d rush her character and try what she’d just done. A quick and bloody death.
Sure enough, the tank-bot charged forward, this time carrying a huge axe. The weapon whistled down - but Nika was already gone, sliding around the side of Reaper, her blade seeking the weak spot under his ribs.
Fernald pivoted his character and tried to pound her again. At least he wasn’t a hopelessly bad gamer. Just an annoying one. She swallowed, and danced Nika back a few paces.
Click. Barely heard - the sound of a mine, primed and ready. Adrenaline surging, she hammered the dash command and ran Nika across the arena in a blur of black. There was a sudden, fiery explosion right where she had been standing.
“Dammit!” Fernald wasn’t as quick. The blast rocked Reaper, but didn’t take him down.
Now she was in trouble. Nika was out in laser-cannon range again, and she wouldn’t be able to dash for another ten seconds. Plenty of time for Fernald to hit her with a couple deadly shots. She had to keep him off-balance - and her character out of his sights. She dodged Nika behind one of the stubby pillars scattered through the arena.
“Hiding?” There was a sneer in Fernald’s voice.
“Yeah, and you’re it. Come and get me.” She checked the cooldown on her dash. Eight seconds.
Reaper clanked to the side, trying to maneuver for a clear shot. She circled Nika around the pillar, letting a flutter of black cloth show. Red beams shot past, taking out a part of the pillar. Time to find a new hiding spot - the whole pillar was probably next. She imagined Fernald thinking the same thing. Focusing the cannon on the pillar. Pulling the trigger - now!
She rolled to the side, and kept rolling as the pillar exploded. Five seconds to go. And nowhere else to hide.
Nika scrambled to her feet and started zigzagging across the arena. The earth around her was scored with holes as Reaper kept firing, tracking her path. He got an indirect hit, and Jennet winced as her screen flashed yellow. That was the warning that her health meter was plummeting. Three seconds. Time for a new plan.
“Shiiineh!” Nika’s battle-cry rang through the arena.
She changed her trajectory and ran straight at Reaper, flinging throwing-stars like glittering confetti in front of her. When she ran out of stars, she started on knives.
“What the - ?” Fernald watched her crazy moves for the last crucial seconds. Then, with a chuckle, he raised his laser-gun. “Wow, you really are a noob.”
Deadly red beams shot out … into empty air. Nika’s dash had carried her past Reaper. She whirled, knives flashing, and sunk a lethal blow right
between his ribs.
This time, Reaper crumpled into a heap of metal. Satisfaction swept through her like a warm tide.
“No way!” Fernald shoved his chair back and stood. “You used some kind of cheat. I should’ve known someone like you would use exploits. That was so—”
“Shut up, Fernald.” Marny’s voice was even. “She didn’t cheat. You lost. Deal.”
“I should’ve known. You freak girls stick together.”
With a last glare, the defeated gamer turned his back on them. He punched Clarc in the arm, then stomped out the door.
“Uh. That was really prime,” the skinny boy said, rubbing his arm. The admiration in his eyes was uncomfortably close to a full-on crush.
Jennet stood. “Well, thanks for letting me play. I sort of crashed your meeting.”
The purple-haired girl gave her a tentative smile. “It was about time someone took Fernald down. Come back again, k?”
“Sure. Do you think you’ll ever get some sim equip in here? That’s what I do, really.”
The girl shook her head. “Not in the next ten years, I don’t think. Unless VirtuMax wants to donate some.” She got a thoughtful look. “Hey. Maybe I should do a project on that.”
Clarc nodded eagerly, giving the purple-haired girl the same look he’d turned on Jennet. “Good idea, Shella. You’re so smart.”
“Well, thanks again,” Jennet said. “It’s been… interesting.”
She turned, to find Marny standing there.
“More than interesting,” the other girl said. “Best afternoon I’ve had in a while. My name is—”
“Marny. I know.”
There was a flash of surprise in Marny’s eyes, quickly masked. Then her mouth quirked up. “Yeah. And you’re Jennet.”
“Glad we got that sorted out.” Jennet smiled - one of the first real smiles she’d felt since coming to Crestview. “So… is Fernald really the best player here? Or was he just boasting?”
She had wanted to defeat him - to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. But at the same time, she’d hoped, she’d needed, to find a prime gamer here.
Marny shrugged. “Fernald’s as good as any of them are.”
Jennet gave her a close look. She hadn’t seen Marny play, but obviously the girl knew something about gaming.
“What about you? Do you sim?”
“Me? Nah.” Marny shook her head, her bobbed black hair swinging around her face.
Too bad. Of everyone she had met so far, she liked Marny. They might have made a good team - if only the girl were a simmer. Jennet would much rather have Marny’s solid presence beside her in Feyland than that jerk Fernald.
“Is there someplace else people go to play?” Jennet glanced around the Media Room. “I mean, someplace with sim-systems?”
“My uncle has a sim-café. Though you don’t seem the type to go there, frankly. Don’t you have a system at home?”
“Yes. I was just wondering,” Jennet said. “Anyway. Good meeting you.”
She felt her brief happiness fade, like an ember dying out. So much for the Gaming Club. Now what? The sim-café? That kind of place was for people who couldn’t afford systems or pay the monthly access fees on the top games. She could try looking there - but she already knew it would be a dead end. Despair boxed her in, dark heavy walls with no windows, no doors.
“Hold on.” Marny’s brown eyes held a spark. “You know, if you’re looking for a simmer you should talk to my friend Tam.”
“Tam? Tam Linn?”
The sullen boy in her history class who never brushed the hair out of his eyes? The ragged kid from the Exe? No way.
“Yep. He won his system in a sim tournament. You should see him play. He’s flawless.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Tam headed across the scabby grass outside school. He needed to do something about his system, and soon. Yesterday it had made a horrible grinding vibration when he powered up. The noise finally faded, but it had been bad.
“Tam!” a voice called behind him. His steps slowed.
Not just any voice, but hers. Jennet Carter. She had a faint accent. He’d noticed it in class, the way her answers were inflected with a lilt that Crestview didn’t have.
“Tam Linn!” she called again. “Hey, could I talk to you?”
He turned around. She was standing on the steps outside the school doors, her pale hair shining in the afternoon sunlight.
“What?” he said. Why would Jennet Carter want to talk to him?
She moved toward him, her expression cautious.
“Hi.” She tried a smile. It faded when he didn’t smile back. “Right. Well. I hear you’re a simmer.”
“Yeah.”
His tournament win was common knowledge. The fact that his prize system was tapped into the ‘net - that was secret. He wasn’t about to get all chatty with anyone about his gaming, let alone a Viewer.
“So… you’re a pretty good player, right?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes. “How am I supposed to answer that?”
If he told the truth, he’d come across as bragging. If he didn’t, he’d sound like a loser.
“Honestly.” She gave him a measuring look and he tried not to notice how having her gaze on him made that restless feeling start up again under his skin.
Okay then. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. “Best simmer in town?”
“What is this?” Annoyance heated his words. “You have some assignment to interview another student or something?”
“No. I was just… wondering.”
Nosy rich girl. Still, a part of him - a stupid, doglike part - was flattered that she was interested. That part was sitting up, wagging its tail and ready to do anything for a word of praise from those soft lips.
So he turned his back on her and started walking away.
“Wait!” She came after him and caught his arm. “Please tell me.”
The vulnerability in her expression made him pause. Made him answer, despite himself.
“I’m the best simmer in the tri-states, actually. Happy? Now let go.”
She did, and he felt the absence of her touch almost as keenly as he’d felt the warmth of it.
“Could I…” She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. “Could I watch you game sometime?”
He pushed his hair out of his face, so he could see every nuance of her expression. “You’ve seen people sim before, haven’t you?” The high-tech world she was from, she must have.
“Of course!” She looked offended for a second, and it made him smile a little bit inside, to see emotion blazing like that from her eyes. “I play, too, you know.”
On equipment that he didn’t even want to try and imagine, or jealousy would eat right through him.
“I don’t doubt it. Are you trying to ask me out or something?”
She blinked, and he caught the flash of disbelief in her eyes before she spoke. “Ask you out? No. I’m not.”
“Good.” Relief and disappointment circled in his stomach. He turned to go.
“Hold on a sec.” There was an edge of desperation in her voice. “I do want to see you game. Just… let me explain.”
He folded his arms and waited.
She was silent a minute, and a bubble of stillness dropped down over them. There was a tickle on the back of his neck, like what she was about to say was important. Beyond important.
“All right.” She let out a breath. “Here’s the thing. My dad’s one of the senior managers for VirtuMax. He’s been working on their new sim system. Maybe you’ve heard about it.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard of it.”
He tried not to show how her words had sent a jolt of interest through him. Her dad worked on the full simulation project? How much did she know?
“Full-D, they call it. And there’s a new game to go with it. Has to be, to show what the system can do. It’s like nothing else out there.”
“You’ve, uh,
seen this new game?” His heart thudded in his chest like he’d been sprinting down the street, not standing in one place for three minutes.
She nodded. “Yes. In fact, I’ve been playing it and… well, I need help.”
“It’s in beta-testing? Why don’t you get your dad or one of the other devs to help?”
He thought he knew the answer though, and anticipation sizzled through him, burning away his jealousy, his resentment of the rich kids in the View. Was she going to ask him to play?
“Pre-beta, even. Basically…” She bit her lip and glanced to one side. “I can’t ask them for help. I’m not even supposed to know that this version of Feyland exists, let alone go in-game. But I can’t stop.”
He nodded. Games could get inside your skin and become the most important thing in the world - at least for a little while. It always wore off though. And simming didn’t keep his little brother out of trouble, or scavenge food from behind the grocery store, or help his mom when she finally came home after one of her episodes.
But a new game, on a brand-new sim - his fingers tingled at the thought. And Jennet wanted to see what he could do. Check out his cred, like some kind of audition.
“When do you want to watch me play?” He glanced down at his scuffed boots and tried to sound casual. “We could go over to Zeg’s simcafe—”
“No. I want to see you play on your own gear.”
He wished, for a gut-searing moment, that he didn’t have the life he did - that he could wave his hand and call a grav-car and they could drive to his house, a real house, full of good things to eat and shiny equipment.
And they could game. With a legal account, not his ‘jacked connection. On a system that wasn’t half broken, in a place that wasn’t falling down, in a neighborhood that hadn’t turned to rot long ago.
“I have to go.” He turned and started walking again.
She followed. “But - you do have a sim-system, right? I heard you won a great rig. I want to see you in your home element. At your best.”
“I don’t think so.” He hunched his shoulders. His home was none of her business. “I’ll see you around.”
