by Brandon Mull
Some aspects of how the games were arranged reminded Cole of his world, but there were also many differences. None of the games within view used a video screen. He saw elaborate pinball machines, complicated ring tosses, diverse shooting galleries, and many games where balls were rolled or thrown. A good number of the games were larger than any he had seen back home. Several required the participant to enter a spacious cube with clear walls.
“This place is unreal,” Jace said with reverence.
Cole nodded. How would they know who belonged to the Crystal Keepers? Would it be written on their T-shirts? Who could they safely ask? “Do we just roam around?” Cole wondered.
“Yep,” Jace said. “Keep your ears open. Watch for clues. We’ll find who we’re looking for.”
They wandered over to a clear cube labeled KNOCKOUT!, where a kid in a helmet and padded vest fought a heavily padded robot. Not much more than a cylinder with two long arms and a glowing face near the top, the robot was anchored to the ground and wielded a cushioned club in each hand.
As they watched, Cole realized the boy was trying to use his own padded weapon to strike five targets on the robot without getting hit. He used his club defensively to block blows, then lashed out at the targets when he had an opening. When he hit a target, it lit up.
After connecting with the third target, the robot sped up. The kid strained to block the more aggressive attacks but got whacked in the side of the head and then thumped on the chest.
The illuminated targets went dark, the lighting within the cube dimmed, and the robot laughed mechanically, raising both arms in victory. The boy went to the door and it opened up, freeing him from the cube. He handed his padded bat to the next player in line, who was already wearing a helmet and vest. The new player entered, displayed his ID card, and the door closed.
“Looks like you pay with your ID,” Cole said.
“Isn’t that how you pay for everything here?” Jace said. “Too bad our cards will probably alert patrolmen if we use them. Plus, we’re broke.”
“I still have a bunch of ringers,” Cole said.
“Me too. But even if we could change them to credits, we can’t risk using our cards.”
“Think you could take out the robot?” Cole asked.
Jace gave a small snort. “In a heartbeat.”
Cole couldn’t help thinking it was easy to brag since they didn’t have any way to try the game. The second kid didn’t last long, striking only one target before getting pummeled. Cole wondered how he would do against the robot. It was pretty quick.
Jace led the way to another game. A glitzy sign above the cube dubbed it PRIZE HUNTER. Inside the cube, a weaponless girl in a helmet and puffy vest crouched in a corner. In the center, a robotic cylinder with twenty padded arms twisted and flailed. An additional three dozen mechanical arms reached down from the ceiling. About half the arms held slender cushioned weapons. The other half clutched prizes ranging from candy bars to stuffed animals to electronics.
“What’s she doing?” Cole asked.
“Picking her moment,” Jace said. “Looks like the game can’t reach her there.”
The multijointed arms raised and lowered, stretched and bent. Suddenly the girl raced out of the corner. After dodging a couple of arms, she reached for a bag of peanuts. Her fingers brushed the bag, but she failed to take hold of it. A padded arm struck her across the back. She went down, and the lighting in the cube dimmed. The arms stopped moving.
The girl got up and exited. Nobody was waiting for the next turn. Jace hustled over to the girl, who looked about their age.
“You wanted the nuts?” he asked.
“Kind of,” the girl said. “Stupid thing is rigged. It’s impossible to win.”
“You have to grab a prize before you get hit?” he asked.
“You can take as many hits as you want until you get knocked down,” the girl said.
“Want me to get you some nuts?” Jace asked, rubbing his hands together.
The girl paused. “If you want.”
“I don’t have any credits,” Jace said. “I’d need to borrow your ID.”
“Yeah, and then run off with it,” the girl said. “Get lost.” She walked hurriedly away.
A girl who must have been a couple of years older than them approached. She had a dark, stylish haircut with the tips dyed red and wore a mostly black outfit that hugged her trim physique. About the same height as Jace, she was a few inches taller than Cole. “You bothering her?” she asked.
“I was going to win her some prizes,” Jace said.
“Win some for me,” the girl replied.
“You have to cover my game,” Jace said.
The girl rolled her eyes. “You’ll win me prizes using my money? No wonder she took off! Are you guys posties?”
“Huh?” Cole asked.
“You know, from the outposts,” the girl said. “New to town. What are you trying to pull?”
Cole didn’t like her attitude. She seemed to think she was pretty awesome. “Maybe we’re con artists trying to seem oblivious.”
The girl folded her arms. “If so, you’re doing a perfect job.”
“Bet on me,” Jace invited. “I’m a good investment. But I keep every third prize.”
“If you win them at once,” the girl replied. “Otherwise I keep everything.”
“Sure,” Jace said.
“Fine, I’m curious,” the girl said. “It’s ten credits per game. You get one try.”
“Where do I snag a helmet?” Jace asked.
The girl groaned. “You really are from the posts!”
“Maybe,” Jace replied. “But I’m here now.”
She walked them over to a bin with helmets and padded vests and helped Jace choose some. They returned to the Prize Hunter game to find the cube still empty.
The girl held out her ID. “I need your card as collateral.”
Jace handed it over. The girl glanced at it. “You just got this today.”
“Maybe,” Jace said, glancing at her card, “Luri.”
“You’re not posties,” Luri said. “You’re outlanders. Have you ever even been to a gaming hub?”
Cole tried to read her. She was acting casual but seemed extra curious. Could she be a Crystal Keeper? Or might she be dangerous? Did City Patrol have informants in places like this? She was pretty young. Maybe she was just nosy.
“You’ll get prizes,” Jace said evenly.
“Go for it,” she said, waving him away. “If any part of you besides your feet touches the ground, you’re through.”
“Did you read the sign?” Cole asked, pointing at a little placard beside the door into the cube.
THIS GAME MAY CAUSE BODILY HARM. PLAY AT YOUR OWN RISK.
“Isn’t that obvious?” Jace asked.
“I guess,” Cole said.
“All the good ones have warnings,” Luri said.
Jace entered the cube and held Luri’s ID card toward the door. The lighting in the cube brightened, and the arms started moving. Divided into several segments, different levels of the robotic cylinder pivoted independently. As some of the attack arms came his way wielding padded weapons, Jace ran diagonally and reached for the bag of nuts. The arm holding the treats raised them out of reach, and an arm with a padded bat struck Jace on the shoulder. He stumbled into a second club that whacked him in the chest and should have knocked him down, but Jace grabbed hold of it just long enough to regain his balance. After releasing the club, he darted forward and snatched a candy bar from a mechanical hand.
“Not pretty,” Luri said. “But he kept his feet.”
An instant after he claimed the candy, a padded bat whacked Jace in the back of the head. He staggered but ducked another swing, then jumped a swift swipe at his shins. Lunging, he ripped a stuffed rabbit from a robotic grasp,
then spun away from a blow to his side, barely staying on his feet.
“He should just go down,” Luri said.
Cole thought the arms sped up a little. Jace tossed aside the stuffed animal and the candy bar. He dodged and weaved, reaching for prizes and barely missing them. He got battered by three padded weapons in a row and hung on to the third to keep from falling. It lifted him off his feet as two more cushioned bats swung at him. Jace dropped and crouched low just in time, holding his hands out for balance but keeping them off the ground.
“He’s going to get hurt,” Luri said.
Jace waded in toward the cylinder where the arms were thickest. He danced and twisted to turn some attacks from the arms into glancing blows and snagged a small, golden disk covered in shrink-wrap. Cole wondered if it might be a little CD or DVD.
As he stood near the cylinder, a bat hit Jace on the shoulder while another swept his legs from the other direction. He flopped to the floor, and the lights dimmed. Getting up, the little golden disk still in hand, Jace collected the candy bar and the stuffed rabbit from the floor, then exited.
“Looked like human pinball,” Luri said. “I get two of the prizes.”
“What’s this?” Jace asked, displaying the little golden disk.
“A prize file,” Luri said. “You put it in a collector. You’re never sure about the prize until you turn it in. A lot of the time they have credits you can load onto your card. Usually twenty or so but sometimes more.”
“Take it,” Jace said. He held up the other two prizes. “You want the candy bar or the rabbit?”
Luri took the rabbit. “It has more personality than a Zowie bar,” she said. “You didn’t do badly for an outlander, but you’re going to get hurt if you keep playing like that.”
“I already got hurt,” Jace said, rubbing his shoulder.
“Looked kind of painful,” Cole said with a wince.
Jace shrugged it off. “I’ve been in real fights. These are just games.”
“Real fights, huh?” Luri said. “What’s your story?”
“We were hoping to win a bunny,” Cole said. “Now that dream is shattered.”
She shook her head. “You clearly don’t fit in here.”
Cole felt another flash of worry—she was definitely studying them. What was she up to? Was she a potential ally or just one more person out to get them? Or was he being paranoid? She could just be a bored gamer who liked to meet people. In that case, she might be a good person to ask about the Crystal Keepers.
“What makes you say that?” Jace asked.
“You wandered in here too wide-eyed. You begged for credits to play, then you didn’t put up a fight to keep the prize file. We never agreed that you had to take the worst of the three prizes, but you volunteered. And your clothes aren’t quite right.”
“It’s because I don’t have my hat yet,” Jace muttered to Cole.
“Also, I’ve never seen you in here before, or around this part of town,” Luri added.
“You know everyone who comes in here?” Cole challenged. Did that mean she was one of the good guys? The Crystal Keepers had been described as gamers. But if he was wrong, Cole knew he and Jace could end up getting arrested. At times like this he really missed his life before the Outskirts, when not everyone he met was a potential enemy.
“More or less,” Luri said.
“Anyone who can spend that much time here must be rich,” Jace said.
“I’m not born to it,” the girl replied. “You can stretch your credits if you’re good.”
“I guess you could show us how it’s done,” Cole said, glancing toward Prize Hunter.
“Good guess,” she said. She swatted Jace on the chest with the back of her hand. “You did all right for a clueless rookie. You’re scrappy. Seriously, why are you guys here?”
“At Axis?” Jace asked.
“And in the city,” she said.
Jace and Cole shared a look.
“Are you really good at that game?” Jace asked, indicating Prize Hunter.
“All the games,” the girl answered.
“Why don’t you show us?” Jace asked.
“Because I don’t care if you believe me,” the girl said. “Why are you guys here?”
“To play games,” Jace said.
“But you didn’t bring any credits,” she pointed out.
“Makes it more interesting,” Cole said.
“Makes it weird,” the girl said. “You’re outlanders; you’re clueless; you’re creditless. . . . Why come here?”
“Why do you care?” Jace asked.
“I pay attention to who comes and goes,” she said. She patted Cole on the chest. “You want to win me something now?”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Want to try Knockout!? You were checking it out earlier. I’ll pay.”
“Why?” Cole asked.
“I want to see how you do,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get another prize disk.”
“You like watching us get beat up,” Cole said.
“That’s entertaining,” she admitted. “Knockout is less brutal than Prize Hunter. It requires more finesse. One hit and you’re done. You don’t have to fall. And you don’t have to try it.”
“Let’s go,” Cole replied.
CHAPTER
9
ROULETTE
“Any tips?” Cole asked as they got in line for Knockout! One kid waited ahead of them.
“Too many tips would spoil the experiment,” Luri said. “If you want to block an attack with your bat, you need to swing hard. The bot pushes through wimpy blocks. You probably noticed that it speeds up after you hit three targets.”
Jace gave Cole his helmet and vest. “Just one prize?” Cole asked.
Luri nodded. “You have to hit all five targets to get a prize file. And if I’m paying, I keep it.”
“What do I get?” Cole asked, adjusting the chin strap on his helmet.
“A free game,” Luri said.
Jace held out the candy bar he won to Cole. “Want to split it?”
“Sure,” Cole said, accepting the treat.
The word “ZOWIE” was printed across the foil wrapper.
Cole flipped it over and read the back:
Ingredients: Camels, microscopes, yams, hydrogen, coral reefs, mannequins, poems, comets, mousetraps, sarcasm, cacti, labyrinths; contains less than 2% uranium, cyanide, cobwebs, magma, polio
Chuckling, Cole read the ingredients aloud to Jace.
“I’ve never tried camel,” Jace said dryly.
“The hump is the best part,” Cole replied, tearing open the wrapper. Inside he found a bar made of puffed rice drenched in chocolate. Cole broke the bar and handed half to Jace.
Cole took a bite. The bar was crunchy and not very dense, but quite tasty.
Jace tried a bite as well. “I don’t taste the yams.”
“Or the mousetraps,” Cole added.
“Have you two seriously never had a Zowie bar?” the girl asked.
“Are we that obvious?” Cole grumbled.
The kid ahead of them got hit by the robot’s padded club, and the lights in the cube dimmed. He had lasted a little while by hanging back and staying defensive but hadn’t struck a single target. Cole had noticed some opportunities the kid had missed.
Luri displayed her ID card. “I need yours as collateral.”
Cole traded cards with her.
“Bubba?” she asked.
“It’s a family name,” Cole said.
“Go get that prize,” Jace said. “Five targets.”
“Like taking candy from a robot,” Cole said, stepping into the cube. He held up Luri’s ID card, the door closed, and the cube brightened. The cylindrical robot assumed a fighting position, both club-wielding arms ready.
As a bystander, Cole had seen some openings he thought he could exploit. Now that he stood facing the robot, the opportunities seemed less obvious. Those padded arms were long and agile and quick. Cole swallowed. He had once killed a cyclops. He had fought plenty of enemies with his life on the line. He should relax and have fun with this. It wasn’t life or death. But Luri and Jace were watching.
He edged forward, the bat ready. He considered the five illuminated targets on the robot. The lower two might be harder to hit, which meant he should take them out early, before the robot sped up.
The robot swung at him. Cole raised his bat as if to block the club but ducked it instead, racing in close and bashing the other club aside before crouching to hit one of the lower targets.
Instead of standing his ground or backing away like the other players had, Cole raced past the robot, turning in time to slap aside the attacking clubs. The robot was really coming after him now. Minimus had given him some combat training when they were together, but Cole knew he was still no master swordsman. When both clubs came at him from opposite sides, Cole dove forward, rolled, and struck another target. As he scrambled past the robot, before he could get back on his feet, a club hit him in the back and the lights dimmed.
The blow caused him no pain. Cole was just mad to lose. At least he got a couple of targets. He had a new appreciation for the kid who tagged three just after they arrived.
“No prize?” Luri cried as Cole exited.
“Sorry,” Cole said.
“It wasn’t a terrible first game,” Luri said. “You had some good ideas. It’s hard to recover if you go to the ground.”
“I’ll try it,” Jace offered.
Lira smirked. “You can’t win this one through a willingness to take a beating.”
“Maybe you should show us how it’s done,” Jace suggested.
Luri shrugged. “I’ll show you one way.” She accepted her ID card from Cole and returned his, then claimed his helmet and vest.
