Gamers' Rebellion (10 page)

Robert stared long and hard at Robbie, then turned his attention back to Zyra.

‘Imagination! Playfulness! Creativity! Resourcefulness! The ability to adapt to new situations!’ After the rapid-fire list, he paused. ‘All these things converge in young people. Not too young, because then there is a lack of focus. Not too old either, when they start to question too much and realise responsibility. It’s a difficult age to pinpoint. And it varies from child to child. For me it is twelve. That’s how old Bobby is in the Game. For others it could be ten, or fifteen, or maybe even as old as seventeen. It depends on the individual. For some it can last years. Others have a much shorter period of usefulness.’

‘Usefulness?’ Zyra stood up, unease filtering into her movements. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Ah.’ Robert’s chair glided around so that he was facing the tech wall, away from Zyra. ‘Usefulness is in the eye of the beholder. I found children useful in programming the Game. I scanned the brains of many children when creating the Game structure. Once it was there, I connected myself to the matrix and probed my own memories, accessed my twelve-year-old self. I used him – me – to shape the Game.’ There was a long pause. ‘And, of course, the Designers now use children to maintain the integrity of the environments.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means that there are children – dozens of them – connected to the Game, keeping the environments from collapsing.’

‘I still don’t get it,’ said Zyra. ‘How?’

‘Perhaps it would best for you to see for yourself.’ Robert’s chair spun around so he could again look at Zyra. ‘Robbie.’

Robbie slid open the door and stepped through it. ‘I’ll take you.’

Zyra drank the rest of her water and followed him.

‘You won’t like it,’ Robert called after her.

Zyra paused in the doorway, not turning back to look at him. As she followed Robbie, she thought she heard Robert say, ‘I don’t like it, either.’

***

Zyra’s eyes were wide with horror. Her mouth hung open and she tried to form words. But all she could do was stare.

Ahead of her were rows and rows of unconscious children. They were lying in hospital beds that were crowded together in a long room. Each one of them was hooked up to an intravenous drip of green, nanobot-laden liquid. There were banks of computer equipment, monitors and life-support apparatus.

They looked so much like terminal patients waiting to die.

‘Are they all playing the Game?’ asked Zyra, her voice a hoarse whisper.

‘No,’ replied Robbie. ‘They are keeping it running. Providing the background brainpower to keep the rules in place and the environments separated. They are the glue that holds it all together. They are not in our world and they are not truly in the Game either. They are in a limbo. The necessary parts of their brains are stimulated with nanobots. Everything else is held in check. They may have a fleeting realisation of their non-existence, but as far as I can tell, there is no true consciousness either in this world or the Game.’

‘And they’re kept like this,’ gasped Zyra, ‘forever?’

‘No,’ said Robbie. ‘Eventually their brains wear out.’

Zyra lifted a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. ‘This is horrible,’ she whispered against her fingers.

‘Yes,’ agreed Robbie. ‘It is.’

Zyra opened her eyes again. ‘Why aren’t they at least allowed to live in the Game?’

‘It would be a waste of resources,’ said Robbie. ‘If they played, they would have less brainpower to be utilised for the Designers’ purposes. And they wouldn’t last as long. There is also the possibility that they might not cooperate.’

‘Could they play?’ asked Zyra. ‘Could they be given different nanobots?’

‘In theory,’ conceded Robbie. ‘I suppose it would be possible. But the Designers would never allow it.’

Zyra took a few steps closer to the first of the unconscious bodies. She gazed at the girl. Her breathing was so shallow, the plastic tube that fed into her mouth giving her just enough oxygen to keep her alive.

‘Mel!’ Zyra mouthed the name. Slowly she approached, making sure that it was her. She breathed in sharply and whirled around to face Robbie. ‘That’s Mel.’

‘Yes,’ said Robbie. ‘She was placed in here after questioning.’

‘We’ve got to get her out,’ demanded Zyra.

‘We cannot,’ said Robbie.

‘Watch me!’ Zyra reached for the IV.

Robbie grabbed her arm and held her back. He was stronger than he looked. ‘No. There is security. And I really did mean that you cannot – you cannot just unplug someone. It has never been done before. It could damage her mind. She might not survive.’

‘If we leave her there, her brain will get fried. You said she
might
die if I unplug her.’

‘It’s not worth the risk,’ said Robbie. ‘If you leave her there now, we might be able to find some other way to get her out. She has not been there long. She is in no danger of dying any time soon.’

‘Okay.’ Zyra stepped back.

Robbie relaxed and loosened his grip. The moment he did so, Zyra lunged at Mel. Before she could touch her, sparks erupted, pain flared through Zyra’s arm and she was thrown backwards. She landed hard on the floor. Sirens blared.

Robbie took hold of her arm and tried to help her up.

Before Zyra could get to her feet, security was through the door. One guard pushed Robbie aside and another two grabbed Zyra. Before she even had a chance to call out, she was being dragged away.

18: Back In

Tark came out of the little side room into the rebels’ lab. He smoothed down the clothes he had just put on – a worn pair of grey tracksuit pants, a baggy pale blue T-shirt and some black runners.

‘They seem to fit okay,’ said Devon, looking up from a battered old electron microscope.

‘Yep,’ agreed Tark, glad to be rid of the pink shorts and lab coat. ‘They’ll do.’

‘Take a seat,’ said Josie, indicating a large reclining chair that looked a little like a dentist’s chair.

Tark gingerly perched on the end of it, examining the controls embedded into its side.

‘It’s got a force field generator,’ explained Josie, ‘to keep your head still for the injection. Unfortunately, it’s broken.’

‘Great!’

‘Devon is preparing the nano solution now,’ continued Josie. ‘How did the pain killers work last time?’

‘Okay,’ said Tark. ‘When they kicked in. It hurt like all hell for a second though.’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Josie, looking like she actually meant it. ‘We won’t be so rushed this time. I can give you some eye drops first. They’ll numb your eyeball so there won’t be any pain at all.’

‘Thanks.’

Josie got a small beaker and a dropper from one of the work benches. ‘Lean back.’

Tark reclined in the chair and opened his eyes wide. Josie put a drop of clear liquid into his right eye.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That should take effect in about a minute or so. ‘Now, let’s get down to business. We’ve programmed the nanos to take you to the environment with the locked down area. We don’t really know what’s there. So just poke around and see what you can find out. You can change environments if you need to. And you can exit at any time. All you have to do is think it.’

‘Okay,’ said Tark. ‘What happens if I die inside the Game? Do I just exit automatically? Or do I …’

‘I’m not sure,’ admitted Josie. ‘Probably best if you avoid dying.’

‘Right.’

Devon brought over the syringe and needle. Tark looked away as Josie prepared it.

‘Do you need me to hold your head still?’ asked Devon.

‘Nah,’ said Tark. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘Ready, then?’ Josie held up the syringe and needle.

‘Not really,’ said Tark, lying back and opening his eyes wide.

He breathed in deeply and tired to hold himself as still as he could. He watched the point of the needle get closer and closer until it blurred out of focus.

19: Designer Alpha

Zyra tried to move but couldn’t. She was restrained in a chair like the one Mel had been in during questioning. She had lost track of just how long she had been there. The guards had manhandled her along numerous corridors before finally bringing her into this room – white and featureless like all the others – and putting her into this chair.

Zyra felt her muscles straining as she tried to lift her arm. It was like a lead weight was pushing down on them, pressing her arms onto the armrests.

Her head felt like it was clamped into position in the headrest. She couldn’t move it from side to side. And yet she was able to open and close her mouth, move her eyes, even wiggle her ear with a twitch of her cheek muscle.

Zyra grunted in frustration, closed her eyes and finally stopped struggling, allowing her muscles to relax. Then she heard a quiet swish and snapped her eyes open.

A woman in a pale blue jumpsuit and white lab coat entered, sitting down at the table in front of Zyra. She studied her tablet and then looked up at Zyra.

She had a hard face – one that was used to being serious and rarely smiling. There were deep lines around her pale green eyes. Her hair was silvery grey and pulled back into a severe bun. It was the face of a woman in her seventies. It was also Zyra’s face – Tina’s face. Zyra wondered if this is what she would look like in years to come.

‘Designer Burrows,’ gasped Zyra.

The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘Now that’s a name I haven’t used in a while. I would prefer to be addressed as Designer Alpha.’

‘Whatever.’ Zyra rolled her eyes.

‘It is, perhaps, in your best interests not to antagonise me,’ said Designer Alpha. ‘I do hold your future in my hands. You are, after all, little more than an experiment. And failed experiments are usually terminated.’

Zyra lowered her eyes.

‘Better.’

Designer Alpha returned her attention to the tablet, reading through the information on the screen. When she finished, she placed it onto the table and studied Zyra with an inscrutable gaze. The silence stretched on. Designer Alpha took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

‘It is gratifying to see a successful download,’ she said, gently. ‘Even with a less than desirable candidate.’

Zyra huffed.

‘I have been informed that you attempted to release the rebel girl,’ said Designer Alpha.

‘Mel,’ said Zyra. ‘Her name is Mel.’

‘Her name is not important. What is important, is how you came to be in a restricted area.’

Zyra did not respond.

‘Designer Prime’s robot was with you, so I have to assume that you were there under his instructions.’

Zyra tightened her lips.

‘You know more than was intended for you to know,’ continued Designer Alpha. ‘The problem now, is what to do with you. Two of the Administrators have recommended your termination. The third, our Designer-in-training, has suggested you be restrained and studied further, under his supervision.’

‘And you?’ Zyra finally spoke. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Firstly, I would like to talk to you,’ said the Designer.

‘Sure,’ said Zyra. ‘What would you like to talk about? It’s not as if I’m going anywhere.’

‘How did you get out of the Game?’

Zyra almost blurted out Bobby’s name, but stopped herself at the last moment. She stared intently at Designer Alpha, gazing into her cool green eyes. She and Robert were adversaries. She obviously did not approve of him going into the Game and becoming Bobby. And she apparently did not know that Bobby (and thus Robert) had released her and Tark. But she probably suspected.

‘You don’t know?’ said Zyra.

‘I would not be asking you if I did,’ snapped the Designer.

‘If it wasn’t you and the Designers, how come there were clones ready for me and Tark to be downloaded into?’

‘We have hundreds of clones,’ said Designer Alpha. ‘And we keep a number of them at the ready for downloads. But none of our attempted downloads have worked. You and Tark are the first to exit the Game successfully. It is vital that we know how you did it.’

‘Okay,’ said Zyra slowly, her mind racing, formulating a plan. ‘But I want some information first.’

The Designer’s face tensed.

‘Designer Prime has explained the history of the Game,’ continued Zyra. ‘He told me how he created it and how he plays in it. He also told me about the government contracts. But that doesn’t explain everything. It doesn’t explain all those kids connected to the Game. How did that happen and why? Why are you so interested in expanding the Game? What are you trying to do?’

‘That’s quite a lot that you want me to tell you,’ said Designer Alpha.

‘Yes,’ agreed Zyra. ‘But you obviously need the information from me quite badly. So I figure it’s a fair swap.’

Designer Alpha studied Zyra for a moment of silence.

‘You’re quite the negotiator, aren’t you,’ she said, glancing down at her tablet and tapping on it with her index finger. ‘Very well. I’ll tell you what you want to know. Your reaction will be interesting.

‘The children are necessary because of the Game’s expansion. Designer Prime originally scanned the brains of children when designing it. The Game is stored on a living matrix of organic nanobots and the matrix has developed an affinity with childhood. It is, I suppose you could say, itself a child – growing, developing, maturing. After we began the expansion of the Game, we discovered that it was degrading. We needed a way to keep the degradation in check and the children have proven to be an effective way of doing that. I am assuming you don’t need me to go into the technical specifics – that would take a rather long time.’