Some looked up at Kitty’s arrival, but most stared fixedly into the hidden flames they huddled around for warmth. The robes Sister Atricia had given Kitty kept her surprisingly warm, but when she moved the cold air had a tendency to creep up her legs.
“Excuse me,” Kitty said as she walked obliquely over to the friendliest looking group of vagrants. “Can you tell me how to find Cecil?”
Every grubby face in the group paled.
“That’s not his name anymore,” a woman whispered. “Don’t let any of them hear you say it out loud.”
Then she spun around and crouched over the barrel, her shoulders trembling.
“The—” Kitty waved her hand “—He that watches, guy. Him. I have to see him. Can you tell me where he is?”
“Follow the signs,” a man informed her. When Kitty’s shoulders sagged into an exasperated slump, the man pointed. “The signs.”
Kitty turned. On the other side of the encampment, an area stood clear of players. Here, three containers had been stacked on top of each other. There were two serious looking players stationed outside the entrance.
The sign above it read:
The One Who Watches Those That Refresh
Consulting hours 9am till 2pm (Game Time)
By appointment only.
Two battered, clunky weapons barred her way.
“I’m here to see—” Kitty glanced surreptitiously upward “—The One Who Watches Those That Refresh.”
“You have an appointment?” The guard on the left asked.
“Uh… no. I sort of… just hoped he could fit me in.”
“The One doesn’t see anyone without an appointment,” Guard Two, on the right, added.
“Okay…” Kitty glanced over her shoulder. A few of the vagrants were staring silently in her direction. “So, how do I get an appointment?”
The guards shifted. Kitty turned back to them in time to catch the brief, puzzled expression they flashed each other.
“Ja?” she prompted.
“Yeah… well…” Guard One began.
“Don’t really, I mean—I suppose you could…” Guard Two interjected.
“You don’t know, do you?” Kitty pushed back her shoulders, her chin lifting as she stared at the two guards. “You tell The One Who Watches that I need to see him. And, before you tell me he’s busy, I know for a fact he doesn’t have any appointments because it’s obvious that there’s no actual way anyone can book an appointment with him.”
The guards stared at her.
“Got it?”
Guard Two slipped inside the dark square of the doorway. There was a muffled conversation inside. Guard Two reappeared, adjusted his weapon, and avoided her gaze with furious intent.
A few seconds later, a smaller, more efficient-looking guard appeared. He glowered at the two guards stationed outside, and gave Kitty a brief, disparaging sneer.
“The One’s busy,” the guard said. “You need an appointment to see him.”
Both Guard One and Guard Two stiffened. The silence was palpable.
“Fine,” Kitty said. “I’d like to make an appointment to see The One Who Watches Those That Refresh. Let’s make it for—” she glanced at her in-game clock “—now.”
Guard Three stared at her. “You can’t do that,” he said in a strangled voice.
“Of course I can.”
“But… but he doesn’t—”
“Oh!” Kitty exclaimed, slapping a hand over her mouth. “Would you look at the time? You’ve made me late for my appointment!”
She pushed past the guard, leaving him spluttering to himself on the threshold of The One Who Watches Those That Refresh’s door.
“Can she do that?” one of the guards asked.
“I think she just did.”
Kitty didn’t bother suppressing her smile. The first container didn’t have much in the way of furnishings except for a steel bench and a metal filing cabinet. A curling staircase ascended at the end. It clattered and swung under Kitty as she made her way up. The second container held a sitting room, with frayed carpets and thread-bare furniture loosely arranged around a table.
A bald man, cowl draping his shoulders, was peering toward her when her head cleared the stairs.
“Welcome, bad_kitty_69,” Cecil said. “Please, have a seat.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Fear Not the Void
Kitty perched on the edge of the sofa, watching as The One Who Watches Those That Refresh, formerly Cecil, poured them a cup of tea. He sat down opposite her, sinking into the back of the sofa and letting out an enormous sigh as he brought the steaming cup to his lips.
“Not thirsty?” he asked.
His voice was melodious, but his eyes were sharp and unyielding, gazing at her with the strength of a tachyon beam. Kitty shifted, licking her lips.
“Uh, not really, no.”
She was, of course. But not here, in The Game. Back on Earth, her eternally slumbering body yearned for moisture. And, at the same time, it longed to expel some. Kitty crossed her legs and tried to ignore the sounds of Formerly Cecil slurping.
“I need your help,” Kitty said, again. “I have to find my friend, William.”
Cecil studied her over his cup, nodding gently. Then he set the cup down and gave her a bland smile.
“Where were you when The Game glitched the first time?” he asked.
“In Chimera.”
Cecil remained silent, his disconcertingly rapt gaze creating a vacuum Kitty felt compelled to fill with words.
“We were—we were on our way to complete a quest. In the forests of Sloghin, close to the river Andorren. You know it?”
The One dipped his head. “Chimera is a place of many dualities,” he said. “I know the forest of which you speak. One feels very close to the spirit of The Game, especially within earshot of the Andorren.”
He flicked his wrist. “But please, this is your story, not mine. Continue.”
Kitty forced down a wayward eyebrow and licked her lips again. If only Cecil would stop staring at her like he was consuming her soul with his eyes. She crossed her legs the other way, hoping it would soothe the now persistent sensation from her real body.
“We were filling our water skins from the river when The Game glitched.” Kitty paused, forcing her eyes away from Cecil’s.
“I didn’t know what was happening, at first. I’d filled my skin and was trying to get my avatar—”
“No!” Cecil hissed.
Kitty snapped her mouth shut at the violent sound. “I’m… I’m sorry?”
“Do not use that word here.”
“Which… you mean… the a-word?” Kitty rallied, ungracefully.
Cecil sat forward on the sofa, his hands gripping each other, elbows on his knees. He glanced down, his voice soft but firm, as if he was attempting to speak to a very small child. Or someone with a concussion.
“This avatar—” he grimaced around the word “—does not exist. You are here in a semblance of yourself. This is a dream, and dreams are a projection of our sub-conscious minds. You—” he waved a hand toward her “—are here in spirit. Your soul walks the labyrinth of The Game. Your soul is the one trapped here. It is not a thing, not a-a-avatar. It is you. You are here.”
Cecil sank back, folding his tangled hands over a knee.
“Continue,” he said, his voice stiff.
Kitty struggled to draw breath back into her lungs. They’d frozen up at Cecil’s violent monologue.
“My… I was stuck. I couldn’t move. At first I thought I wasn’t operating my-myself properly. Maybe I was doing something wrong. But then I heard Will.”
“He too was stuck?”
“No… he was just… drifting. He had no control over his-himself. He drifted into the river. Then,” Kitty shook her head. “Then I was a few metres away. There was no movement, I just—”
“Yes, I understand,” Cecil cut in with a calm voice.
“So, I could just watch as the river to
ok him. It dragged him away, out of sight.”
“You found him again? Or has he been missing since the first glitch?”
Kitty shook her head. “I found him. It was later that we got separated.”
“The second glitch?”
“No…”
“Were you still in Chimera when the second glitch came?”
Kitty licked her lips again. Why did he keep staring at her like that? And why did he want to know about the glitches? Not even Lucy had seemed that interested.
“We were both in Chimera still. I was walking next to Will. We were about to go into a mine.” Kitty pressed her eyes closed. “I fell. I don’t know how, because I was on solid ground. But it was as if—”
“The void claimed you,” Cecil breathed.
Kitty opened her eyes. “I just kept falling,” she said. “Over and over again. There was a sense of getting closer to something, a light of some kind, but then I would pass it and just keep falling down. It went on for minutes, then all of a sudden I was just back where I had been.”
“The void has forsaken you, just as it has forsaken us all.”
“Uh…” Kitty glanced around the container, but there was no one to look to for support.
“I once was lost, like you,” Cecil went on. “I lived a life of depravity and greed. I was…” Cecil dipped his head, his shame apparently too much to bear. “I was a gold farmer. Eternally searching, begging, bargaining for in-game currency. Lost. Forsaken. Until the first glitch.”
His eyes lifted, bright and feverish.
“The first of many. It saved me. It brought me from the darkness into the light.”
Cecil lifted his tea cup, swallowed whatever was inside, and replaced the cup. It rattled against the saucer.
“I want to show you something.”
Kitty jumped up as Cecil walked toward her. But he strode past, not glancing around to see if she would follow. He made his way up the staircase, moving stiffly, and disappeared to the floor above.
After staring around for a few seconds, Kitty followed. What else was there to do? She heard the humming before her head cleared the floor. The last few steps she took reluctantly, her eyes scanning the room beyond with wide-eyed astonishment.
Wavering candlelight glowed against the metallic walls of the container. There was no carpeting here. No furniture. All that was inside were ten groups of players, five to a group, seated on the floor. Their heads were dipped over clusters of flickering candles arranged in the midst of their tightly-packed huddles.
The humming was coming from them.
Cecil walked over to the closest group, brushing his fingers against the head of one of the players. The figure didn’t jerk or flinch — it just unfolded from its huddle and turned silently to them. It followed Cecil to where Kitty stood, her hands still clutching the staircase’s railing.
“These are the Refreshers,” Cecil said, tipping his fingers toward the player.
The player drew back its hood, revealing a pale face and shining eyes.
“Greetings, player,” the refresher said. He glanced at Cecil, dipping his head. “Will she be joining us, Master?”
Cecil’s face softened into a gentle smile.
“This player has a different path to ours. But, perhaps, if she is not successful in her quest, she might consider returning here. After all—” Cecil laid a hand over the refresher’s shoulder “—every player must complete their own quest. And the quest of the righteous is filled with high-level monsters and bosses, whilst the path of the unrighteous is paved with golden chests and health potions.”
Kitty blinked. “I… I don’t know what that means.”
The refresher dipped his head again, glancing at Cecil through his lashes. “The Master refers to The Message. May this refresher enlighten the player, Master?”
Cecil gave the man a gracious nod. The refresher took a small step forward, enough to draw closer to Kitty without allowing Cecil’s hand to slide from his shoulder. He spoke to Kitty in a fierce whisper, his eyes roving her face, constantly searching. Kitty had to force herself to stay still under the lunatic gaze.
“The Message was given to the Master in the moments following the first Glitch.”
The refresher cleared his throat.
“The Game giveth, and The Game taketh away,” the refresher said.
Kitty refrained from stating that she’d also received a message: it was obvious there was only going to be one voice in the coming tale.
“The Message informed the Master that the rules of The Game had been changed. After all: The Game giveth, and The Game taketh away. The time had come for The Game to taketh away. And it took away all the unworthy players, leaving only those with a purpose to remain behind.”
The refresher glanced at Cecil. Kitty’s eyes followed. Cecil was staring at a point somewhere beside her left ear, his eyes unfocused, his face set in a reverential frown.
“At first,” the sycophant continued, “the players had no understanding of their new, true purpose. Many pursued the same quests and missions they had pursued before, not realising that the time of Accounting was upon them. Of these players—” the refresher’s voice went hoarse “—we do not speak.”
The refresher cleared his throat again.
“Other players reached an understanding and forged a new purpose. They believed, erroneously, that their new purpose was to reach the Arena, and seek the council of a moderator.”
Again, the refresher’s voice faded to almost nothing. He cast a quick, furtive glance at Cecil. The hand around his shoulder tightened, and the refresher took a deep breath, his stare returning to Kitty with the power of a thousand suns. Or a tachyon beam.
“These players are doomed to never-ending suffering in the fiery, war-torn embrace of Bang-Bang Island. Their records, nay their achievements and victories, will be torn asunder.”
The refresher lowered his voice, casting a glance over his shoulder at the humming groups of refreshers behind him. They didn’t seem to notice. Kitty’s foot moved without intervention from her brain, landing gently on a lower step.
“But, happy are the geeks, for they shall inherit the earth,” the refresher said. “The Master showed us our true path. For the Master had been in-menu when The Game came to taketh away. And he was saved, saved from eternal damnation and ruination. And in-menu, the Master witnessed a miracle.”
“A… miracle?” Kitty asked in a wavering voice.
The refresher nodded. “The Master was shown the way of the Refreshers. He was shown a game where all the players levelled up, regardless of how much in-game currency they hoarded. He was shown a Game where, regardless of sex, or race, or age, all players could quest together, complete missions together, and ne’er a one of them be subjected to trolling, or spamming, or flaming.”
Again the refresher had to lower his voice. Cecil’s face twitched into utter serenity, his eyes sliding back to Kitty. She had to meter out her own stare between the crazies, her left foot sliding down another step.
“When the Master was sent back into The Game, he immediately assembled a group of his most loyal companions. Together, they set down the commandments of refreshing.”
“Commandments…” Kitty repeated woodenly.
The refresher’s index finger stabbed the sky.
“You will always refresh!”
His second finger joined the first.
“You will not let your concentration be turned aside.”
The third finger wasn’t quite as straight as the others.
“All in-game currency will be traded with the Master, so that you may not be led into temptation.”
A fourth finger shot up.
“You are not to suffer those that do not follow the true path.”
His thumb parted from the rest of his hand.
“You will always refresh.”
“Refresh…” Kitty took another step down. “I don’t get it. What is refreshing going to help?”
Cecil b
eamed at her. “Ah. The player has finally begun asking the right questions.”
He spun around, raising his voice.
“Why do we refresh?” he shouted.
Forty-nine heads lifted up.
“So that we may know the instant the menu is working!” Forty-nine voices shouted back.
“Why do you want to know when the menu is working?”
“So that we may save our game!”
“Why do we want to save our game?”
“So that we can be saved!”
Cecil spun back to her. “You see, player,” he said. “Every so often, while the great Engineers are working on correcting The Game, the menu appears.” His hand slid from the refresher’s shoulder, and gripped her wrist, staying her downward motion.
“How, dear player, will you ever exit The Game if you don’t know when the menu is working?”
. . .
Kitty sat on Cecil’s sofa with a rigid spine. What would it feel like to be as crazy as him? Opposite her, Cecil was pouring himself another cup of tea.
“Uh… I forgot to mention, what with the—” she pointed up, to where she was uncomfortably aware of the bunch of lunatics sitting above her “—you know. Lucy_fur_666 is helping me reach—” she changed what she’d been going to say “—find William.”
Cecil’s head snapped around, his hands suspended in the act of drawing out a teabag from his cup. His fingers spread, dropping the wet bag on a small mound of similar tea bags.
“Lucy Fur?” Cecil shook his head. “He sends a wolf concealed in sheep’s clothing?”
“Wool?” Kitty speculated, but Cecil wasn’t listening, talking instead to himself in a soft monotone.
“The prophecies are coming true, then. With this final sign, this third revelation, the end is indeed nigh. Therefore retribution is upon us and we should all repent, nay, we should all—”
“He asked me to give you something,” Kitty interrupted, a touch loudly.
“Yes, of course.” Cecil dipped his head. “I give you leave to place the object in my inventory, player.”
The Seventh Glitch Page 11
