About the Book
You are pumped for an afternoon of action at the best games arcade ever. But not all the games are what they seem. There are secret programs, alien tests and other worlds inside a new virtual reality.
The artificial intelligence wants your help. The aliens want to recruit you. But you just want to stay alive!
Will you win the game or be stuck inside forever?
You choose …
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
You Choose 8: Trapped in the Games Grid
Collect them all
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Loved the book?
For my gamer girl Nykita and her gamer gang: Sienna, Lauren, Nirav, Lachlan, Dylan and Oskar. Screens to the max! – G.I.
Sounds. Colours. Lights. Action. All around you.
A racing car crashes. An alien fleet is destroyed. A fighter jet zooms into combat. A tennis player hits a volley. A hunter fires his rifle. A policeman zaps a criminal with his taser. People dance, following coloured lights on the floor. Buildings explode. Everyone screams.
You look around in amazement. The Games Grid is the BEST games arcade ever! You’ve been waiting ages to come here and play the hottest new game – Starfire.
You look around, trying to find it.
You see the owner, an odd man named Mr Kudou, race across the arcade and disappear into his office behind the front counter, where a bored guy sits chewing gum and ignoring customers.
OMG! Over in the far corner – it’s Alien Invaders! That’s the game your dad was obsessed with as a teenager. Still is. Even though it’s got really clunky graphics, pathetic audio and basic controls (all you do is shoot little box-like aliens), you kinda like it. You’ve played it at home on the computer with your dad, and you’re pretty good. No one’s on Alien Invaders right now, so you could have a game straight away.
But then you spot Starfire. It’s the game with a mile-long queue of eager players. It’s the game with incredible graphics and ear-splitting sound. You have to climb into a spaceship simulator to play it. You know it will be awesome … but it means waiting for ages!
If you want to get in line for Starfire, go here.
If you want to get in a quick game of Alien Invaders first, go here.
You join the Starfire line. It’s MASSIVE! As you stand in the queue, you whip out your mobile phone, send a few texts and surf the web … until you get bored. You look at the people ahead of you. Has the line even moved?
You sigh and glance around. Over in the next aisle you spot Dragon of Svartos. You’ve never played that. And it’s supposed to be really cool. There’s nobody in the queue for that one. Maybe you should have a go at that instead?
Then you notice Mr Kudou carrying an armful of electronic equipment through a door at the back of the arcade. The sign above reads:
New VR game COMING SOON!
RESTRICTED ACCESS
VR? That stands for virtual reality, doesn’t it? You wonder what this game might be. Could you take a sneak peek?
If you want to risk checking out the restricted area, go here.
If you want to play Dragon of Svartos, go here.
But if you’ d rather stay in the line, go here.
You ring your parents. They are not at all happy.
An hour later, they show up at the front door with the police and Mr Kudou. The arcade owner has an enormous set of keys and it takes him ages to unlock the door, trying every key in turn until finally the last one works.
Your parents ban you from visiting the arcade for a month.
A WHOLE MONTH! How will you survive?
You head to the Alien Invaders game, intending to have one shot at it before returning to the Starfire queue.
The first blocky aliens appear at the top of the screen, dropping bombs as they move from left to right. Reaching the right edge, they descend a little and move left. With each pass of the screen they move down a little more … at least, that’s what they would have done if you hadn’t already blasted them off the screen.
Next level – more aliens; faster descent. No problemo!
Level Three – faster aliens; plus spaceships with death rays across the top of the screen. Harder, but you still get through quickly.
Level Four – attack ships zoom across the screen with random movements. But you deal with them.
Level Five – the final confrontation. The mothership enters the fight with its plasma beam. You need to shoot four missiles in quick succession at its core to destroy it. It almost gets you … but you’re quicker. Piece of cake!
You’re about to head for the Starfire queue, when on the screen appears:
Level Six – three motherships, a fleet of attack ships and individual aliens.
Hang on. There’s not meant to be a Level Six.
But you play anyway. This level’s A LOT harder! Sweat prickles your brow. You fire and dodge. As you blast away your opponents, more aliens join the fight. But you’re not about to give up. Years of game-playing have honed your reflexes and response times. Waiting till all three motherships are in close proximity, you attack the middle one with everything you’ve got. The massive explosion takes out the other two motherships – a chain reaction that also wipes out the attack ships.
As the last alien disintegrates, you punch the air.
You’re about to head for the Starfire queue, when…
The screen turns green. Numbers and strange symbols flash before your eyes, way too fast for you to actually make any sense of.
The screen goes dead. There’s a quiet hum, followed by a ping. Something pops out of a slot at the side of the machine. You pick it up.
It’s a floppy disk – a really old-fashioned way of storing information. You remember your dad showing you one a while back. You wonder what’s on it and why it popped out of the game.
What do you do with it?
If you want to take it to the arcade owner, go here.
But maybe there’s something interesting on the disk? Perhaps you should take it home and check it out. Go here.
Of course, if you don’t care, you could just stick it back into the slot and join the Starfire queue. Go here.
You decide to stay in the line. Starfire will be worth it, you’re sure of that. And so you wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Your mind wanders. You lose track of time.
The line inches slowly forward.
And you continue to wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Until there is no one in front of you. You are next in line. All you’ve got to do is hold out a little longer.
Finally, the other player finishes and vacates the cockpit. You’re about to jump into the hot seat, when a chime rings and Mr Kudou’s voice announces over the PA system: ‘The Games Grid will be closing in five minutes. Please finish the game you are playing and make your way to the exit. Do not start any new games.’
What?
Closing?
Nooooooooooooooo!
The people in line behind you groan and disperse. But what do you do?
If you decide to follow Mr Kudou’s instructions, go here.
But you’ve got about five minutes until people finish up and the place actually closes. Surely you could squeeze in a quick game? Go here.
You’re intrigued by the sounds, and your sense of adventure draws you towards them.
Unfortunately, your sense of adventure cannot save you from the overwhelming multitude of rats. Scratching their way along the duct they scurry all over you, carrying
you with them, along the duct and then down…
Down, down, down…
Into the basement that is their home. There they dump you in a pile of old bones – human bones, picked clean.
Two large yellow eyes stare at you from the darkness. You gasp.
But you don’t have time to panic, as the giant mutant rat pounces on its dinner.
You take the duct leading away from the scratching sounds.
The passage becomes narrower, making it harder and harder to crawl through. As you are squeezing along it, you hear the scratching again. It’s echoing through the duct from behind. It’s getting louder. And there’s something else – a sort of high-pitched squeaking. It sounds angry. It sounds animalistic. It sounds hungry!
You put on an extra burst of speed, pushing yourself through the duct until you see a grille up ahead. You launch yourself at the grille, knocking it out of its clips and onto the pavement. You fall out and hit the concrete.
Jumping to your feet, you back away into the evening twilight. In the dark square of the ventilation duct you see yellow eyes staring out at you. And sharp little teeth.
You turn and run all the way home. You are so traumatised that you never play another video game ever again.
You go to the front counter and ask to see the owner, Mr Kudou. The bored guy raps on the window behind him without even looking up from the Doctor Who magazine he’s reading.
The door nearby the counter swings open and a wrinkled face with an explosion of wiry grey hair appears.
‘What?’ shouts Mr Kudou.
Gum-chewing guy points at you, eyes still glued to his magazine.
‘What?’ Mr Kudou shouts again, now looking at you.
You hold up the floppy disk. The owner’s eyes widen and he beckons you into his office.
He snatches the disk and examines it closely. Taking a deep breath, he manoeuvres through the piles of dismantled game machines and computer equipment to plonk himself behind his overcrowded desk.
‘Where did you get this?’ he booms.
Why is he yelling?
‘Sorry,’ he says, lowering his voice just a little. ‘Hard of hearing.’
You tell him about the Alien Invaders game. He smiles. Rummaging through his piles of equipment, he holds up an old disk drive.
‘I’ve been looking for this disk for so long, I’d pretty much given up hope of ever finding it. Thanks, kid. Here.’ He pushes a stack of game tokens across the desk. ‘Go have fun.’
If you decide to grab the tokens and head straight for the Starfire queue, go here.
If you want to know more, stay and talk to Mr Kudou. Go here.
You head for the back of the arcade, casually going from one machine to the next, until you are beside the restricted area. Making sure that no one is watching, you slip through the doorway.
‘What are you doing in here?’ shouts Mr Kudou.
You’re too surprised to answer. You back up, out into the arcade.
‘This is a restricted area,’ yells Kudou, advancing on you. ‘It’s not ready yet. It’s experimental! You’re breaking the rules.’
He’s pointing at you now, stabbing his finger at your chest. Everyone in the arcade is staring at you as the owner continues to berate you: ‘Get out, you impatient child. Get out!’
People are laughing and staring as you race out of the Games Grid … too ashamed to ever return.
You decide to give Dragon of Svartos a go. You pop your token into the slot. You can play either as Kane the dragon hunter with his magic ice sword, or the dragon with laser eyes. You choose the dragon.
But the controls don’t seem to be respond ing. You can’t get the dragon to move, let alone fire its lasers. Your dragon just stands there as Kane slays it.
You’re so mad, you kick the side of the machine.
An alarm goes off.
Seconds later the owner, Mr Kudou, is there yelling at you.
‘What have you done to my game, you horrible child? You’ve broken it, haven’t you? Well, you’re going to have to pay to get it fixed.’
Next thing you know, you are being hauled into the office, your parents are called and they’re charged for the repairs to the game. Your pocket money is put on hold until the bill is paid o?…and that’s going to take years!
You race over to the Starfire game, hop into the cockpit simulator and return to the greatest outer space battle ever.
You grip the joystick with both hands and guide your Starfire ship through the battle, blasting wave after wave of enemies, until you finally reach the mothership. Th is time, there’s no one to switch off the power. This time, it’s all up to you. This time, you destroy the mothership and win the intergalactic war!
Th is time … something even more unexpected happens.
A hologram appears in front of the screen. It’s an alien creature – green with little tentacle things hanging off its face.
‘Greetings, Starfire pilot,’ it says. ‘You have been recruited by the Star League to defend the frontier against Rux and the Dan-Ko armada.’
You wonder if this is part of the game.
‘This is no game,’ says the alien. ‘Starfire is a simulator test, distributed across the galaxy to find rare individuals capable of piloting these intensely complex strike ships.’
Is this some sort of joke?
‘This is no joke,’ the alien continues. ‘You are now faced with a choice – one that will affect not only you, but the entire galaxy. Do you choose to join the Star League as a Starfire pilot, to defend the galaxy and your home planet against the invading forces? Or do you choose to be a snivelling coward, ignoring your own potential and hiding on Earth until the invading forces arrive to destroy it?’
Wow! What a choice!
‘Make your decision,’ demands the alien. ‘Press the green button to accept your position in the Star League. Press the red button to refuse.’
To join the Star League, go here.
To remain on Earth, go here.
This must be part of the game, right? So there’s no harm in agreeing to join the Star League. You press the green button.
‘You have chosen well,’ says the alien hologram. ‘Congratulations on your bravery in joining a battle of overwhelming odds and little chance of success.’
What?
‘You will be transported directly into the cockpit of a real Starfire,’ continues the alien.
The simulator door locks. Bright green light floods the cockpit. Your surroundings blur and waver, then come back into focus.
You’re now in a real Starfire, out in space, thousands of light-years from Earth!
The controls seem pretty close to those in the Starfire game. But instead of a screen, there’s a window with a heads-up display. Through the glass you see hundreds of other Starfires against the star-speckled, inky blackness of the universe. And in the distance, the Dan-Ko armada approaches.
The Starfires around you zoom forward to meet the enemy.
What do you do?
If you want to join the other Starfires in battle, go here.
If you’ d rather turn your ship around and flee, go here.
This must be a joke, right? And if it isn’t, there’s no way you’re going off to fight in some intergalactic war. You press the red button.
‘You have chosen to reject our offer to make you a Starfire pilot of the Star League,’ says the alien hologram. ‘It is with regret that we accept your decision and inform you that in order to preserve the secrecy of this simulator test for potential future Starfire pilots, you will now be disintegrated.’
What?
The simulator door locks. Bright red light floods the cockpit.
ZAP!
You are no more!
The door unlocks. The game lies in wait … ready to find the next potential Starfire pilot.
You’ve just got to play Starfire. You quickly slip into the cockpit.
You fumble with your token, insert it into the slot and grasp the jo
ystick.
The screen lights up. You are no longer in a games arcade. You are in a Starfire, an intergalactic fighter ship, the starry expanse of outer space before you, your allies at your side.
Up ahead, enemy fighters appear, ready to blast you and your comrades out of the sky. You lean forward on the joystick and your Starfire surges into battle.
Lasers flash across the screen. Starfires and enemy ships zoom all around. Explosions rock your world, the hydraulics in the game rattling the simulator from side to side. It feels so real.
In the distance you hear the chimes again and the muffled voice of an announcement. You ignore it and continue playing.
You are in the moment. You are in the battle. Up ahead you spot the enemy mothership, a massive space fortress, launching wave after wave of fighters. Blasting a stray enemy ship, you see your opportunity to attack the mothership. Your heart is thumping and your hands are sweating as you grip your joystick tighter, your finger poised on the trigger, ready to –
Your screen shimmers and winks out.
What?
The game has been switched off.
You jump out of the simulator into the gloom. The Games Grid is closed. Everything is silent, the lights are off and no one is about.
You hear a door slam.
Is that you being closed in?
This is either the worst thing that’s ever happened to you … or the best.
Do you rush for the front door and try to get out? Go here.
Or do you switch the power back on and continue playing for as long as you want? Go here.
Trapped in the Games Grid Page 1
