The Great Game

by O. J. Lowe

  So that would mean he had some plan. Something that probably didn’t spell good news for anyone but him. He’d seen it, he’d smelled a chance. If Mr R was cheerfully distracted… Getting the blaster had been hard. He’d taken a risk, stuck his neck out on one of his rapidly becoming more infrequent trips out of the room and it had paid off.

  Sneaking into the cells hadn’t been a smart play but to get the weapon out from under the noses of the paltry policing presence on the island, it had been worth it. He’d taken the A-33, figured it’d be the one they’d miss the least. It was small enough to conceal as well, most of the weapons had been Blackslotters, too large to conceal in anything smaller than a hip holster. What it had in its lack of size, it matched in its lack of firepower but that didn’t worry him. From close range, he didn’t have to worry too much about failing to put down his boss.

  Put him down… That thought twisted his stomach a bit, even if privately he knew Mr R deserved to be executed like a rabid dog. The man was a raging psychopathic sadist and the world would be a better place without him. When it came to it, he hoped he could do it. When it came to it, he had to do it. He’d never killed before.

  In the other room, the shower stopped and he took a deep breath. Part of him wondered if Mr R was heading out to the dance, he certainly had his best suit out for it, a well-tailored ensemble in a hideous shade of shiny green and purple. When they’d been giving out a sense of colour, Mr R had been towards the back of the queue. He seemed to like it for some reason, Max had never asked and now he felt sure he wasn’t going to find out. No great loss there.

  He could hear his boss getting out of the shower and he reached down behind his back and rested his hand on the butt of the weapon. He could do this. Part of him knew that he should get closer, as soon as Mr R stepped out of the bathroom, he should just open fire and start blasting away. It was risky. Once he knew he was dead, he’d have to leave quickly before someone alerted hotel security and then further. Maybe even local law enforcement, maybe even Unisco if there were some of them on the island. He didn’t want to tangle with them again. Not after the events leading to his previous arrest. He’d been beaten up before. If he had a blaster, they’d probably shoot him on sight.

  He gulped, poured a glass of water from the jug on the table and swallowed the contents in one drag. Despite the cool room, he was sweating and he couldn’t fight the nerves jangling in his stomach.

  When Mr R stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair off with a towel and bollock naked aside from that, he knew unless he acted, he was going to miss his chance. Yet hesitation paralysed him. He couldn’t bring himself to draw the weapon and snuff out his miserable existence.

  “Ah, Maxie,” an oblivious Mr R trilled. “Nice to see you’re up and about. I have some sad news for you.”

  This stayed his hand. He couldn’t bring himself to draw. He knew he should. Knowing and acting were two different things.

  “Sad news?”

  “Yes, dear,” he said, patting the bed next to him as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Very sad news. Come, sit with me and we’ll talk it out.”

  Against all his better judgement, he found himself moving closer to him, one hand tucked into the waistband of his trousers. His palms felt slippery and he wished he’d practiced drawing the weapon a little more. He’d done a few, the memories of them felt painfully cumbersome. At this range, Mr R could easily swat it aside before he could point it at him and then what would happen? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

  Shoot him now then! Shoot! He ignored the voice in his head and sat down slowly on the bed, Mr R patting him on the leg as he did.

  “Good,” he said. “Good. Well I’m sorry it’s come to this, truly I am. I regret it, Maxie, I really hope you know that.”

  A horrible feeling started to crawl across him like a thousand spiders and he slowly started to reach for the weapon.

  “I mean I wish we could carry on working together but it just isn’t feasible. I’m leaving the island tonight. My business will be concluded. I’ve been recalled by my boss to make my report and I’m not sure I’ll be back.”

  “But what about…” The question slipped out, he couldn’t quite believe it. Did this mean Mr R was about to release him from the terms of their agreement? Without blood being shed? That was a new development. He hadn’t expected to be able to leave it alive. “What about Mia Arnholt?”

  Mr R sighed and patted him again, twice, each pat hard and firm. “That is our problem. You know my problem with her.”

  “I don’t know why you hate her so much. I mean I thought it was just obsession but I think there’s something more to it.” He gulped, suddenly realising what he’d just blurted out. Of course, he’d had those private thoughts but to voice them out loud here and now…

  “Can’t it be both? It’s the dance tonight. Snatching someone in a crowded room is a twin edged sword. It can be hard but if it’s done right, it works perfectly. There’s too many people around to keep a track of everyone. I’ll do it. I’ll have her off the island and who knows where she’ll be this time tomorrow.”

  “So, you’re going to do it then?” Max asked, seeing his boss nod. His stomach felt funny, he rubbed it uneasily. “And what of me?” He tried to sound offhand as he asked the question yet some urgency must have rushed in as he saw the giant grin flit across his boss’ fat face. “Are we even?”

  “Almost,” Mr R said. “I have one last task for you to complete for me.”

  “And that is?”

  The eyes glittered with sudden malevolence. “You need to die!”

  It took a fraction of a second for the words to hit home and Max rose to his feet, eager to draw the blaster in one fluid motion and shoot the evil bastard between the eyes. Yet it never came, his legs turned to rubber beneath the weight of his body and he sank down to his knees. His arms felt like numb lead weights, too heavy to lift and the weapon tumbled ineffectively to the carpet.

  No! No!

  He’d blown it and he was dead. He knew it the moment Mr R let out a tutting sound and picked it up. “Dear oh dear oh dear,” he smiled, looking down at it. “What are we doing with this then, Maxie? Shouldn’t play with weapons. Did your mother never teach you that? You could get very badly hurt.”

  “Wha’… wha’ ‘ou do t’me?” Max whimpered through lips that didn’t want to respond. His tongue twitched listlessly in his mouth, entirely involuntarily. His body had betrayed him. Mr R cocked his head cruelly, a smirk on his sluggish features.

  “What’s that? You drank the water, didn’t you? Predictable. I’m a student of human behaviour, you know. Ever since I got you out of jail, I’ve been studying you and you know what you were, Maxie? Predictable. I knew you’d betray me the moment you got a chance. You people are like worms wriggling in the moment and that wriggling creates the patterns that betray you. I’d be hurt if I cared. This was all about convenience. Yet until you betrayed me you’d enjoy my hospitality, you’d abuse my generosity for everything you could, you slept in my room and ate on my credit. And I knew you’d drink my water. It was laced, you poor stupid idiot. Urcazine. Marvellous stuff. You can swallow as much of it as you like and it won’t affect you. Until you sit down. And then you won’t get back up from it. Ultimate muscle relaxant.”

  He knelt and stuck the A-33 into Max’s face, a smile growing across his face. “I don’t need you anymore. You were always expendable; do you know that. Should have cut you out of it long since but hey, I’m a sentimentalist. You did your bit and I got attached.” He reached out and patted Max’s cheek, cackling wildly as he felt Max try to flinch back away from the motion and fail miserably. “Your fault really, shouldn’t be so cute. Still it gave you a reprieve. Now, how do you want to go?”

  He stood up and stretched out his long limbs, let out a little giggle. “So many ways to snuff out a life. I could shoot you but well, that’d leave a lot of explaining away. Not that it matters really.”

  Max strugg
led to move and once more found his limbs unresponsive. All he succeeded in doing was toppling forward onto his face, a crack breaking into his ears, scarlet spreading out across the carpet below his eyes. Next thing he knew he’d been yanked up roughly, dragged to face height by Mr R, his legs dangling uselessly beneath him as his boss gave him a sickly smile. He leaned in, Max found himself with a suddenly too close view of his eyes, and licked his face, the tongue darting a dash of blood away from him. He couldn’t even recoil away. Bile bit at his throat as he saw the expression on Mr’s R’s face as he licked his lips.

  “You taste soooo good,” he said, starting to move away, his strong grip bringing the limp Max with him. He couldn’t resist, couldn’t bring his body to work for him. No matter how much he wanted to, it just wouldn’t respond. He ground his teeth and let out a little moan, tried to ignore the taste of blood in his mouth. His nose had been broken before, when he was a kid, it had never healed properly. A bigger boy had beaten him senseless, his dad had gone to prison over taking vengeance. He’d been killed inside, stabbed in the shower with a homemade blade. In that moment, Max felt himself realising he missed his dad. His dad wouldn’t have taken this shit from Mr R.

  He tried to grab the frame of the door, moaned half words and muffled threats, neither of them deterring Mr R as he guided Max into the bathroom. He’d never really paid much attention to it before but now he saw the bath and shower combination as if for the first time. So much opulence and he’d taken it for granted under the wing of a psychopath.

  As Mr R shoved him into the bath, he was helpless to fight back and resist. His head hit the marble and black spots filled his vision, he managed a coherent yell of pain. He heard a tsking sound emerge from the man above him. “Damn, that’s not going to look good on the coroner’s report.”

  It was with some considerable effort that the still naked Mr R forced him into the bath, resting his unresponsive body out in the length of the tub. The top of his head barely broke the upper lining of the tub, he’d need to sit up to see above it. An act that was beyond him right now and that thought terrified him. He struggled against the invisible bonds the drug had cast over his system and failed once more to move. Panic and fear flooded through him, it must have shown in his eyes for his former boss let out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he said. “Just for the record, Max. You did good work.” He reached down and patted his hand, moving the plug into place with the other. “You really did. You want hot or cold?”

  “P’ease,” Max groaned. “P’ease no.”

  Harvey Rocastle sighed once more and got to his feet, glancing at his watch. “Oh my, is that the time? What a shame, I have a prior appointment. You’re keeping me, lover. And we can’t have that now, can we?”

  Max wanted to scream and cry and fight, all of which felt foreign motions to him as he felt the first trickles of water running down into the tub, his feet already soaked. The door closed behind his former boss as he left and he knew his fate had been sealed. It didn’t stop him struggling, there had to be something he could do. Already the water had reached the point where his hair touched the enamel of the bath and he could feel the chill in the back of his skull. Something… Anything… He’d always heard drowning was a horrible way to die, it was almost as horrible as the knowledge that Mr R… Harvey had killed him. He knew who he was and he’d never admitted it out of fear his use might be lost a little sooner than it otherwise had been… would get away with it.

  His ears tingled with the cold water caressing them and he let out a little wail, only able to rock uselessly in the shallow water. In minutes, his lungs would fill and he’d drown. There had to be something he could do. He’d been in worse situations than this… The water touched his cheek and he moaned, struggled again but the drug was good. It wasn’t letting him move. Panic was creeping in; he knew it was going to kill him but he couldn’t care.

  Tears were running down his cheeks and he felt sick in his stomach. This was the end. He was dead, reality just hadn’t caught up with that knowledge yet.

  His final moan was lost as the water covered his face. Bubbles broke the surface and popped above the ripples of his one final struggling act. Struggles that lasted several seconds before becoming slowly less violent.

  Soon they stopped altogether.

  Chapter Twenty-Five. The World Keeps on Turning.

  “It seems like this is a good idea. Give everyone a chance to blow off some steam, get some relaxation in before the next round kicks in. And for those who went out, well it’s a chance to say goodbye.”

  ICCC tournament organiser Gabriel Tomas on the dance,

  The fourth day of Summerdawn.

  Nick Roper finished adjusting his tie and took a long look at himself in the mirror, feeling quietly contemplative as he did. He’d been feeling that way a lot recently, ever since the conclusion of his matches in the group stage. In a way, he didn’t feel as unhappy as he might once have done at losing that clean sweep record. No caller at the tournament had won all three bouts in the group stage, it wasn’t just him that had erred at a moment when it perhaps hadn’t been best to. And you could always learn more from failure than you could success. He'd not been good enough, he’d been a victim of overconfidence perhaps. He’d reflect on this later, see that it wouldn’t happen again.

  And yet, he couldn’t shake the thoughts that only Empson’s power had pulled him through. Bish and Froak really hadn’t pulled their weight in that bout. Still it had been their first battles of the tournament, maybe he needed more work with them. But that could wait until tomorrow. For tonight was a time of rest and relaxation. Divines knew he needed it. Between the two lives he was living, the life of the caller and the life of the Unisco agent, he just wanted to forget it all for a night and relax a little. He stretched out and then relaxed his arms as he heard the faint cough from behind him in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Well?” Sharon’s voice cut into his thoughts. “How do I look?”

  He half craned his head, caught a sight of her out the corner of his eye and then turned all the way, applauding as she stepped barefoot into the room wearing a strapless purple dress and a white stripe up each side that tapered off into the split up each thigh showing tanned skin. “Bravo, bravo,” he said appreciatively. “You look good. Damn good.”

  She couldn’t quite hide her smile as she moved up to him and he took her hand, leaned in and kissed her until she pushed him away with a laugh. “Don’t. You’ll smudge my makeup.”

  “Worth it, I think,” Nick grinned. “Don’t you?”

  “Declining to comment,” she replied, examining herself in the mirror as he went to sit down. “Not when we’re this close to leaving.”

  “They’ll not miss us if we’re a bit late,” Nick said. “I mean, hey we’re not obliged to go. What happened to being fashionably late?” He laughed as he said it. “I mean last one through the door sounds like fun.”

  “What because it usually means you’ll be the first one out?”

  “Something like that. Except it makes me sound bad, I think,” Nick said thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know. Mind you, while we’re here, there was something I did want to talk to you about.”

  Sharon raised a thin eyebrow. “Go on? Nothing bad, is it?” She sounded intrigued at the proposition.

  He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. You know after this tournament is over?”

  He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Well I wanted your help with something. You know your anubian?”

  “Drax?”

  “Yeah Drax. I want to try get one for myself. You remember where you got her?”

  Sharon nodded. “Well yeah I do. But also no. She was a gift from a friend. I was taken to a field and there she was as a pup. I had to gain her trust and bring her with me, I couldn’t claim her to a crystal until the two of us had absolute trust in each other. It did take several months. And it’s weird really, because you can’t form a comp
lete bond with something that can run off at any moment. At least, I didn’t think you could.”

  “You did with me.” Nick sounded mock-hurt and Sharon playfully threw a hairbrush at him. He caught it one handed and rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah but you’re a human. An anubian is an animal and although they’re quite intelligent by animal standards, they’re still not on a par with humans. That said, they pick up more than we think. Especially at that age. Any hint of insult and they can run off and you’ll never see them again. That’s what makes them seem so rare.”

  “Gift from an old boyfriend?” Nick asked suddenly, the question coming out of nowhere and Sharon shook her golden head vigorously, looking a little insulted at the question. He could smell the dye on her hair, she’d been touching the roots up by the looks of it. He preferred her blond. It suited her better.

  “No. Quite the opposite. Old mentor. He had one too. That’s what I say, I don’t know where he got his. Or mine. You know the stories about anubians, don’t you?”

  Nick shook his head. “No. There’s a story?”

  “Yeah, they were originally supposed to be the guardian-companions of those who wielded the Kjarn. As their masters would take care of them, they would take care of their masters in symbiotic learning. What benefited one would benefit the other and they’d grow together, they’d die together.”

  It was Nick’s turn to look confused. “The Kjarn?”

  “Some people believe that the Kjarn is a force of energy running through the universe, it’s linked to what enables us to capture the spirits of those animals that we defeat. On a certain level we all connect to the Kjarn. On a greater level, some of us can master it to achieve spectacular things. Telekinesis. Premonitions. Almost inhuman enhancements. Or so the stories go by the way, they’re only what you make of them. It’s what uniblasts are made of, you know. You’ll never see an animal in the wild use one of those. Maybe the Kjarn does form some sort of connection between caller and spirit meaning that this is possible.”