Gamers' Challenge (7 page)

‘So wots do we do?’ asked Zyra.

‘You and Hope need to figure that out.’

Zyra looked over at Hope, who glared back at her.

‘Hangs on a tick,’ Tark interjected. ‘I still don’t gets wot’s so special about these two. Couldn’t some others motha/ daughta team do this jumpin’?’

‘There are no other children.’ Tee’s voice was quiet and low. ‘No Outer has ever had children before. And Zyra -
my
Zyra - died during childbirth.’ He turned away. ‘There is no other parent and offspring that can be teamed. We’ve waited a long time for a new Zyra to join us.’

‘Oh,’ Tark whispered.

‘I was assuming we’d have plenty of time to work it all out.’ Tee rubbed a hand across his tired face as he turned back to the others. ‘But it seems that the VIs are determined to stop you.’

At that moment, the monks stopped chanting andraised their hooded heads.

‘Look!’ Tarkjumped up and pointed towards the vestry door.

A pinprick of light emanated from the centre of the drape that hung in front of the door.

‘Looks like we’re not safe in here, either,’ said

Hope.

‘So we better figure out how to get the two of you to jump,’ said Tee.

The light from the drape intensified. Slowly, thefabric was being eaten away. The red-robed monk behind the altar rose to his feet.

‘The safety of the Oracle is threatened.’ His voiceboomed through the Temple. He nodded to his monks and two of them got to their feet, approaching the door. The first of the monks drew a sword from beneath his robes, the second a loaded crossbow.

‘They know what’s going on?’ said Hope to her father.

‘The VIs are absorbing the door,’ explained Tee.

‘I was hoping the monks would perceive the threat.’ The first of the monks flung aside the drapeto reveal the VI, larger than it had been before, practically filling the doorway. The second monk shot two bolts from his crossbow in quick succession. Both bolts were wiped from existence within seconds. The mass of static moved forward a few centimetres, but stopped just inside the doorway, unable to move further. It pushed forward, something forming deep within the undulating greyness - something with claws and teeth. The first monk stepped forward and lunged with his sword, plunging the blade into the heart of the writhing ball of static. Monk and static both froze. The sword was deconstructed and absorbed, the monk following suit - robes, skin, innards.

The air was torn asunder as the horrible shrieking sound echoed through the Temple.

Hope looked to her father. ‘The monk was an essential character?’

‘The monks are the guardians of the Temple of Paths and the Designers’ Oracle.’ Tee smiled at his daughter. ‘They are all essential.’

‘Ya knew thats would ‘appen?’ asked Tark.

‘I suspected and hoped.’

They watched with relief as the VI was sucked into the Interface and the monk replaced. But their smiles quickly faded. With the doorway cleared, they could see that there was litde left of the vestry, and that three more oversized, amalgamated VIs waited, roiling and writhing, something dark moving within each. And beyond them, blazing through the sky, dozens more were racing to join them.

9:Jump
 

‘Protect the Oracle,’ boomed the red-robed monk’s voice.

The first row of monks threw their robes off. Beneath, they were dressed in black, with a multitude of armaments attached to their belts. They drew their weapons and headed through the door. Seconds later the screeching sound of the tearing environment ripped through the Temple.

They all stared silently out through the door - Teescratching thoughtfully at his beard; Hope nervously taking her pistol in and out of its holster; Tark and Zyra quietly holding hands.

‘Wot does we do now?’ Tark let go of Zyra and clutched his crossbow with both hands, his knuckles white.

‘We stay put,’ said Tee. ‘We’re safe in here for the time being. The monks will keep the VIs busy.’

‘For how long?’ asked Hope.

‘Indefinitely, I suppose,’ said Tee. ‘The monks will just keep getting replaced. And I assume there’s a finite number of VIs.’

‘Ya assumes,’ whispered Tark.

‘And if there’s an endless supply of VIs,’ said

Hope. ‘We’re trapped!’

‘Well, then,’ said Zyra, desperately trying to keep her voice steady. ‘I guess we needs ta works out how tajump.’

‘Sure,’ replied Hope, throwing her arms out.

‘Because it’s that easy.’

There was another round of screeching from outside.

‘We has gotta do sumthin’,’ yelled Zyra, her fac;ade crumbling. ‘Maybe all we’ve gotta do is thinks it. Or touch hands. Or sum thin’.’

‘Oh, yeah. That would be it,’ Hope yelled back,pacing in front of Zyra. ‘Let’s just shake hands and

J.Ump.’

‘You never know,’ said Tee, calming himself and looking at Hope. ‘It may work. And we’ve got nothing to lose.’

Another row of monks threw back their robes and strode towards the door. As they passed Zyra, she thought that one of them looked at her, the corners of his mouth curving up in a slight smirk, his dark eyes twinkling. Zyra shook her head, wondering if the stress was finally getting to her. The monks resolutely headed out through the vestry door, as more screeching blared in from outside.

‘If more monks is needed out there-’ Tark pointed out.

‘- there musts be even more of ‘em VIs,’ finished

Zyra.

‘Whats if more and more of ‘em keeps coming?’ asked Tark. ‘Enough ta swarms over this place?’

Tee looked intently at his daughter, his eyes silently begging her cooperation.

‘Fine.’ Hope walked up to Zyra and stuck out herhand. ‘Shake.’

Zyra reached out a hand and took Hope’s. Nothing happened.

‘See.’ Hope snatched her hand back and folded her arms.

‘Ya ain’t even tryin’,’ said Zyra, coming to stand face to face with Hope. ‘Concentrate, will ya?’

‘Don’t you try telling me what to do.’ Hope raised her voice. ‘It’s not like you’re actually my mother.’

‘Well, I is the closest thingya’ve gots,’ Zyra shouted back at her, pushing her face up to Hope’s so that they were almost nose to nose. Then Zyra took a step back and turned to Tee. ‘Is I enough?’ she asked in an almost whisper.

Tee didn’t hear. He was too busy watching the monks. Another row had just exited and the red robed monk was now disrobing and drawing his scimitar o’light.

Zyra tapped Tee on the shoulder. ‘Is I close enough ta her motha for this ta works?’

‘Yes,’ said Tee, his voice determined. ‘I’m sure of it. Otherwise, why would the VIs be trying to keep the two of you apart?’

‘Rights then,’ said Zyra, making up her mind.

She strode over to Tark, pulled him to her and kissed him hard. It was all over before he even had time to respond. Tark stared after her, as Zyra strode back to Hope and placed her hands on the girl’s face.

‘Whetha we likes it or not, and I don’ts, I
is
ya motha.’

Hope opened her mouth to speak.

‘Shuts up and thinks,’ Zyra demanded. ‘Thinks of getting outta here.’

Zyra closed her eyes, concentration creasing her brow. Hope sighed in resignation, closing her own. She reached up and took hold of Zyra’s face. Then, simultaneously, the two of them leaned forward and touched foreheads.

To Tark and Tee’s utter astonishment, they weregone.

Tark put a finger to his mouth. He felt a pang of sadness as he stared at the spot where Zyra had been. That was the first time their lips had met since their rule-breaking kiss. And now she was gone.

‘I
was
right.’ Tee mouthed the words silently.

The red-robed monk stalked past Tark and Tee, and out the vestry door.

‘Wots about us?’ Tark asked.

‘Us?’ Tee said. ‘We fend for ourselves.’

10: Legend of
the Ultimate Gamer
 

The words Bobby’s Cafe glowed in soft blue neon above window signage that proclaimed the best ice cream in all of Suburbia.

‘What’s ice-cream?’ asked Hope.

‘The best thing ever,’ assured Zyra, as she led the way towards the cafe.

‘What do you do with it?’

‘You eat it, of course.’ Zyra pushed the door open and went in.

Wide-eyed, Hope followed.

The cafe was decorated in a rainbow of pastel colours - blue chairs with green vinyl cushions, yellow tables and pink walls. A large counter curved its way in front of the far wall, its orange top and blue sides standing out against the pink wall. Small round tables, each with four chairs, dotted the main area of the cafe. The place was deserted except for a lone man in a shabby suit sitting on a stool at the counter. He sipped at a coffee while staring down at the counter top.

Zyra led Hope to a window seat. ‘You sit down and I’ll go get us some ice-cream.’

Zyra headed behind the counter and disappeared through the red swinging door.

Hope stared out of the window at the impossibly perfect streetscape. It was neat and clean and like something out of a dream. The shops looked freshly painted, the street like it had just been paved, and all the passersby were dressed in their neatest best.

‘Weird,’ Hope murmured.

‘Here you go.’ Zyra planked a white bowl onto the table in front of Hope.

Hope looked down at the contents. There were three scoops of ... something. White, brown and pink.

‘Vanilla, chocolate and strawberry,’ explained

Zyra as she handed her a spoon. ‘Try some.’ She started eating her own.

Hope tentatively used the spoon to scoop up a tiny bit of the white stuff. Slowly, she brought it up to her mouth.

‘It’s cold,’ she exclaimed, surprised.

‘Of course it is. It’s frozen.’ Zyra laughed. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s odd. But sort of okay.’ Hope tried a larger spoonful, slowly rolling it around in her mouth. Then she tried the strawberry. ‘This one’s better.’ Then she tried the chocolate. ‘This one is good.’ She finished the mouthful and looked up at Zyra. ‘What is this place?’

‘Suburbia.’ Zyra gazed wistfully through the window. ‘Tark and I came here whenever we had the money and keys to get into Designers Paradise.’

‘Zombies,’ said Hope.

‘Would you stop it!’ Zyra slammed her spoon down on the table. ‘We are stuck with each other. So let’s just make the best of it.’

Hope looked down at her bowl of ice-cream without answering.

‘Like it or not,’ Zyra continued, ‘I’m your mother.’

‘You are not!’ Hope growled through gritted teeth, violet eyes flaring with rage.

Zyra stared into those eyes - Tark’s eyes - andcalmed herself. ‘I am. And I’m not. It’s weird, I know. Let’s just accept that we need each other. Okay?’

Hope’s anger subsided and she let out a long breath. ‘Okay.’ She had another spoonful of the chocolate and looked up. ‘So, why this environment?’

‘It’s peaceful,’ said Zyra. ‘It’s nice. No one trying to kill us. No one to steal from. It was a chance for us to not be us - to be Tina Burrows andJohn Hayes, instead.’

‘You became different people?’

‘Avatars.’ Zyra thoughtfully tugged at one of her earrings. ‘We looked different. We spoke differently. I guess we became who we really wanted to be.’

‘Hmmm.’ Hope finished off the chocolate ice- cream, eyeing the other two flavours suspiciously.

‘You still look like you, now. But you’re speaking normally. You’ve lost that stupid gutter speak.’ She loaded up a spoonful of strawberry. ‘How come?’

‘Oh! Well.’ Zyra looked down at her own ice cream. ‘This is how people speak here. It’s how I speak when I’m here.’ She quickly put a spoonful of vanilla ice-cream into her mouth.

‘Yeah,’ said Hope. ‘But we’re not playing the game. No one can see or hear us. So, why the change?’

‘I dunno,’ said Zyra, reverting to her usual way of speaking. “Cause I wants ta.’

‘Oh, great.’ Hope dropped her spoon into the bowl. ‘You know, it sounds really dumb when you talk like that. You sound like you’re stupid.’ She looked away from Zyra. ‘And you’re not.’

They sat in silence for a while, eating their ice cream, their black and red leather outfits incongruous amongst the pastel dreaminess of the Suburban cafe.