The Seventh Glitch

by Ronel van Tonder

  “No!” Lucy pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t shoot.”

  The man narrowed his eyes, but kept the pistol hoisted.

  “None of us can die, do you hear me?” Lucy swung a hand, gesturing toward the posse, toward Kitty, toward the swaying Nick. “Not until we know what happens. If you guys want answers, then come with us to the Arena and ask the mods. That’s where we’re headed.”

  Kitty nodded, her mouth tightening. “Lucy’s right, y’all.” She grimaced, but forged ahead. “Killing each other ain’t gonna solve nothing. We got to work together on this one. Ain’t no use taking it out on each other.”

  The player lowered his pistol and snorted at Kitty. “We been trying to convince him since the second glitch. You think he’d listen to us? All he cares ‘bout is his brother. Nick there’s convinced that he can’t leave Helical. You ask him why and he clamps up tighter’n a barnacle’s asshole.”

  “A what?” a player beside him whispered.

  Player One waved a dismissive hand. “He was so insistent like, you’d think he’d joined that damned cult we keep hearing about, there in Polaris. Don’t matter what we tell him, he just won’t go.”

  “Then go on your own,” Lucy said, failing to subdue the acid in his words. “You’re all big boys now. There’s no need to be hanging on anyone’s apron strings.”

  “Does a barnacle even have an asshole?” Player Two asked of a third player watching the entire spectacle with a disinterested glaze over his eyes while chewing on the end of a piece of straw.

  “What?” Player Three shrugged. “How should I know? I live in Kuwait. I’ve never even seen a barnacle. But probably everything’s got an asshole. I mean, everything’s gotta take a dump, right?”

  “Yeah, Nick!” Player One called out over the voices of the two players arguing beside him. “How ‘bout we just go on our own? Then you can stay here till the cows come home.”

  “What cows? I ain’t never seen no cows here.” Player Two frowned at Player Three.

  “That’s ‘cos they ain’t come home yet,” Player Three provided.

  Lucy manoeuvred around Nick and took hold of Kitty’s arm. She started at his touch, but allowed him to draw her away without making a sound. He dipped his head closer, trying to speak to her without moving his lips.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Let them sort it out?” she added, nodding slowly.

  “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, throwing furtive glances over her shoulder as they sidled away from the arguing posse.

  “Can’t help it,” Lucy said. “Y’all should know that.”

  “I’m going to ignore that.” Her pace increasing slightly. “But only because shouting at you might draw their attention.”

  A few minutes later, with the posse safely out of sight behind the bulk of the jail house, Lucy paused and took a deep breath. He ran a hand over his pectoral muscle.

  “Hey, they’re way too close for you to be stoppin’.” Kitty tugged at him. “Come on then, get a move on.”

  “Just give me a sec, sweetheart.” Lucy grimaced at her. There was another fluttering stab of pain, deep inside his body in the real world. “Something’s not right.”

  “Well it’s going to get a whole lot less right if we don’t get outta here.” Kitty grabbed hold of his arm and began dragging him. A few seconds later, the flank of a dusty-coloured mare filled Lucy’s vision.

  “Can you get up?”

  Lucy tried mounting, but before he could complete the action, the pain stabbed through his chest again. He sank to his knees, shaking his head at Kitty’s panicked expression.

  “Jus’ need a minute,” he whispered.

  “We don’t got that long.” Kitty shoved the tip of her boot into his leg and pointed behind him.

  The posse rounded the jail house. Every man had a bandanna across his face, and in the lead rode Nick, pistol in hand.

  “Goddamn silver-tongue,” Lucy said. “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  Kitty disappeared from view, and a second later he was on the horse, hands clutched around her waist.

  “Cool,” she said, snapping the reins. “They thought of everything, didn’t they?”

  The horse jolted, flowing under them like molten metal. Helical’s desert streamed past, a blur of brown and gold, its hot breath tearing at their faces.

  “They close?” Kitty yelled.

  Lucy glanced over his shoulder. The posse was less than thirty metres behind them, and closing. Nick had his pistol out, but seemed more interested in spurring his mount forward than aiming it at them. Lucy turned back and put his mouth close to Kitty’s ear.

  “I think we’re losing them,” he said. “But the more distance we put ‘tween us the better, so keep at it.”

  Kitty nodded and snapped the reins.

  “Heeyah!” The horse continued to move at the same speed it had been going since being put into a gallop three minutes ago.

  “Lucy!”

  “What?”

  “Up ahead. You see that?”

  Lucy turned to face forward again, eyes latching onto a distant flicker.

  “Thank the lord, Kitty. It’s the exit. Keep going!”

  He glanced over his shoulder again. The posse was definitely closing on them. How the hell was it even possible? Their horse had three speeds: zero, a slow walk, and a gallop. Maybe they’d found a bag of genetically-modified oats.

  As he stared behind him, Lucy realised Kitty was changing direction.

  “Keep straight, Kitty!”

  “Ain’t going through yet,” Kitty said, stiffening even more.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you, woman?” Lucy grappled with her, trying to grab hold of the reins. “We have to get out of here!”

  “Not without Will!” Kitty elbowed him in the stomach.

  The flash of pain from The Game brought another stab from his chest back in the real world. Lucy groaned, gripping Kitty’s waist as he fought to stay on the horse.

  “Will ain’t here,” Lucy said. It hurt to raise his voice, but it would hurt even more to get shot again. “We’d have known if he was. He’s in another rift, Kitty.”

  “How do you know that? You thought he was in Chimera, but he wasn’t. Then you said he’d be in the jail, but he wasn’t there neither,” Kitty said. “What if he’s back there? What if he’s back there and I’m leaving him behind?”

  She gave her head a quick shake.

  “I can’t leave him, Lucy.”

  “You’re not leaving him.” Lucy had his mouth right by her ear. “You’re going to find him!

  “Can’t leave him,” Kitty replied, softer this time.

  “You stay here, Nick’s gonna have your guts for garters.”

  “I’m not wearing garters!” Kitty said.

  “I said, he’ll have your guts for garters,” Lucy yelled. “There’s no other way! You have to get us out of here, Kitty.”

  “What if you’re wrong?” Kitty’s voice quavered.

  “Then we’ll come back. We’ll search every rift until we find him.” Lucy squeezed Kitty’s waist. “I promise.”

  He felt her draw a deep breath. “Promise?”

  When he didn’t reply, Kitty swung her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. Then her eyes slid past his face, fixing on a point somewhere behind him. Her eyes grew round, her mouth falling open.

  “You said we’d lost them!” she shrieked.

  Lucy clenched his jaw, forcing the words out. “Because I knew you’d freeze up,” he said. “Exactly like you’re doing now. Keep going! Keep going!”

  But Kitty stared behind her without moving. The horse abruptly slowed to a walk.

  “Kitty!” Lucy gritted his teeth and dismounted. A pistol shot slammed into the ground by his feet.

  He jerked Kitty off the horse, mounted, and hauled her back up again. A bullet shaved a few centimeters of skin and flesh f
rom his thigh significantly reducing the amount of health his avatar had left. Lucy suppressed a scream and spurred the horse forward.

  Kitty drove the air from his lungs with her grip, but he didn’t need to breathe. Not yet.

  Ahead, the air shimmered. There, between two nondescript clusters of bush, hung the exit.

  A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the posse were still within firing range. The entire front row of men had their pistols out. Each was taking careful aim. Helical’s blunt mountains and twin suns perfectly framed the posse’s furious charge.

  In the lead, Nick’s arm straightened and he closed one eye.

  “Almost there, Kitty,” Lucy whispered.

  They struck the exit.

  The barrier sloughed over Lucy like sandpaper. His cry of pain mingled with threads of terror as a spear of fire slid into his chest, stabbing him again and again. He struck a cold, hard surface, the air closing over him like frozen plastic wrap.

  Lucy gasped for breath, but nothing came of it.

  His lungs were on fire, his body quivering as alternate waves of heat and cold drove over him. He could see nothing, and feel nothing beside the pain. He gasped again, his mouth gaping open, but still nothing entered his lungs.

  Little popping noises arrived in his ear, drowning his laboured breathing.

  Then something metallic slammed over his face, and thick, warm air oozed inside his nose and mouth. A white mist blurred his vision, drawing away as he drew air deep into himself. He exhaled reluctantly, blinking in the sudden fog, and took another glorious breath.

  A sickly green face appeared. Lucy jerked.

  The green face grinned. “Welcome.”

  “Bonzo?” Lucy croaked. “Where’s Cecil? He said he’d—”

  Bonzo shook his head. For a moment, a pale fog obscured it, and then it returned.

  “Complications,” was all Bonzo said.

  “Complications?” Lucy whispered. He tried lifting his head, but a pressure on his shoulder kept him down. “Is she… did a girl—”

  “Ready.” Bonzo's head bobbed.

  “Thank the void,” Lucy said.

  Lucy managed a weak smile before his head slumped to the icy ground beneath him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Game Giveth, and The Game Taketh Away

  Kitty woke up shivering. Her breath misted a panel of glass in front of her as she blinked rapidly in a furious attempt to make out her surroundings. Hugging herself, she rose to her feet, glancing around the small chamber she was in. Then she glanced down and sighed heavily.

  Her outfit was instantly recognisable: it was a space suit.

  Except… this wasn’t meant to protect her from the deadly radiation and sub-zero temperatures of the void. Instead, its sole purpose appeared to be highlighting her chest and ass. There were several ridges moulded into the skin-tight fabric cocooning her, glowing with a pale pink light.

  Her HUD had changed, too.

  Instead of the metal lacework and leather background she’d had in Helical, everything was sleek metal and glass. Glowing icons and flashing indicators had replaced the old-world bars that indicated her health level.

  A leather backpack, all the rage in Helical, was now a utility belt; which was obviously for mere decoration, because when she opened her inventory, all it contained was a hand-held radio and a small tablet computer. The computer held a single entry — the proclamation about The Game’s first glitch.

  She was still examining the radio when it vibrated in her hand, a bright pink light flashing. Kitty held it to her ear, clanging it against a rebreather unit attached to her face.

  “…come in!”

  “…uh… hello?” There was no answer. She pressed the too-obvious pink button on the thing. “Hello?”

  “Kitty!” Lucy’s voice, as much as she could tell through the static, sounded relieved. “This is Lucy. Come in Kitty. Can you hear me, over?”

  “Over what?”

  There was a pause. “So you can. Fantastic. What’s your twenty?”

  “My what?”

  “Get your head in the game, Kitty,” said Lucy. “Where are you?”

  Kitty glanced around. “I’m standing in a box. It’s not a large box. Or even a nice box. And I’d really like to get out. Where the fracking hell are you?”

  She grimaced. Fracking hell? Really?

  “I should be there in a few minutes. Bonzo triangulated your position using the GPS on your radio, over.”

  “Bonzo?”

  There was a long pause. Then, “You have to say over at the end of a sentence, Kitty. Else how the frack am I supposed to know you’re done speaking, over?”

  “Oh my frack,” Kitty moaned. “Over,” she added hurriedly.

  “Okay, I need you to bang on the container a bit so we can find you. Can you do that Kitty? Can you bang something for me? Over.”

  “Uh… I’m going to go with yes, but you should seriously think through your sentences. Over.”

  Lucy’s sigh carried surprisingly well over the radio. “Over and out.”

  The urge to throw the radio against the wall was intense, but Kitty subsided after kicking the wall. She lifted her leg, studying her bright pink boot with a sneer of disgust.

  “Frotz, what is it with these people?”

  She paced the container a few times, making sure to give each wall a resounding kick. Her chat console contained no new messages.

  BAD_KITTY_69: IN POLARIS NOW. HOW RU HOLDING UP?

  There was a long pause before William answered.

  DASHING_WILLIAM_19: SO I WASNT IN HELICAL?

  BAD_KITTY_69: NO. LUCY SAYS WELL FIND U

  DASHING_WILLIAM_19: SUCKS WHEN U CANT EVEN SLEEP 2 PASS THE TIME. EVERY TIME I HEAR VOICES I THINK IM GETTING OUT

  BAD_KITTY_69: STILL CAN’T HEAR ANYTHING?

  DASHING_WILLIAM_19: HEAR LOTS. CANT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING

  Not knowing what to answer, Kitty didn’t. She closed her console and sank down against the wall, her lycra clad knees sticking up in front of her. She kept her hand to the side, rapping her knuckles against the container every few seconds. Movement caught her eye, and she reached up to touch the mess of hair dangling from her head.

  Pink dreadlocks. Wicked.

  There was a loud scrape against one of the walls of the container. Kitty got to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips as she waited. One of the sides of the container slid open to utter darkness. The cold that had been buffeting her was a tropical breeze compared to the icy air that wreathed its way inside.

  “Took you long enough,” she said, stepping forward. “And you say one word about this outfit and I’ll—”

  “Silence!” The voice snapped into the container, rebounding from the walls. “You have no right to address the venerable Abbess. Kneel, unrighteous.”

  Kitty stiffened. She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, trying to make out anything from the darkness ahead of her.

  “You don’t kneel?” The voice grew soft. “Then we make you kneel.”

  Something struck her shoulder.

  Kitty glanced to the side, staring at a small black dart protruding from the space-suit. Apparently, the suit offered no protection against needles, either. Her knees struck the floor of the container with a gong.

  She sat back on her heels, her avatar blinking muzzily toward outside.

  A shadow disengaged from the darkness and flowed inside the container. It didn’t have a face: its cowl draped nothing but deep shadow. Hands as ephemeral as mist touched her, drawing her to leaden legs and forcing her forward. Her boots dragged with every step, but she never fell; somehow, the hand clutching her arm prevented it.

  Outside, the darkness was absolute.

  For some time, Kitty thought she wasn’t moving, perhaps mistaking a breeze against her cheeks for the sensation of movement. But then the darkness became gray and dissolved into thick, chunky architecture.

  A mountain.

  No… a he
ap of rubble that formed a mountain.

  Rubble containing metal and machines and protruding wires.

  Kitty wanted to protest her abduction. She wanted to kick and scream and maybe even land a few bites on someone’s arm, but whatever the shadow had shot into her had numbed her limbs and left her defenceless. An entrance became apparent, formed from the intersection between two massive, corroding girders.

  Dangling wires, thick as fingers, brushed her head as she went inside. Her feet caught on items strewn across her path as she was taken down. The tunnel descended into the bowels of whatever the planet she was on consisted of.

  Her radio let out a distressed burst of static.

  Kitty couldn’t have removed it from her inventory if she’d tried. Instead, her progress halted, and a cowl of shadow oozed in front of her. A moment later, her pink radio was suspended in a transparent suggestion of a hand.

  “Come in, Kitty. Over.”

  “Another shunned one,” the shadow mentioned. Its voice definitely emanated from the depths of the cowl, but how it could be produced by a mouth Kitty had no idea. “Our coffers will soon be filled to the brim with unrighteous.”

  A second shadow appeared in Kitty’s vision. It could have been a carbon copy of the one holding her radio.

  “Speak to it,” the shadow insisted. “And thus we can determine its location.”

  It hoisted the radio in a wispy hand.

  “Greetings, unrighteous,” the first shadow enthused. “Your arrival heralds much joy and celebration.”

  There was a pause.

  “Kitty? Hello?”

  “The unrighteous does not have the required faculties to respond to your queries.”

  “Who is this?” Lucy spoke in a whiplash. “What have you done with Kitty?”

  “Nothing has yet been performed on the shunned,” the shadow-man said. “But as with all wayward children that bless us with their inevitable return, there will be a cleansing.”

  “You listen here, you fracking piece—”

  The shadow dropped the radio. It clattered into the darkness with a hollow, tinny sound. The grip around Kitty’s arm tightened and she was drawn forward again.