Gamers' Rebellion (14 page)

‘We’ll see about that,’ said Tark. ‘Bump up the power.’

‘I’m not sure how,’ said Zyra, looking down at the controls with confusion. While her right hand continued to hold on to the lever, the other hovered indecisively over the remaining controls.

Finally, she chose a dial with numbers. It was set to five, but the numbers went all the way to ten.

‘Here goes!’ She spun the dial all the way up.

The width of the beam doubled. The hotspot widened accordingly. But still no breakthrough.

‘We need something more,’ said Tark.

‘What?’ snapped Zyra, hand again hovering over the controls.

Tark slowly walked around the drill, examining the sides.

‘What are you doing?’ demanded Zyra.

‘Looking for this.’ Tark pointed to a socket on the side of the drill.

Zyra glanced down.

‘We’ve got nothing to plug into it,’ stated Zyra.

‘Oh, I think we do,’ he said, glancing towards the anti-bodies battling with the techno-knight.

‘What?’ Zyra looked at him as if he’d lost his sanity.

‘Work with me here,’ said Tark in his most reassuring voice. ‘Remember how we used the static of the Interface in the battle with the anti-virus program? Well, I think we could do the same now.’

‘The anti-bodies?’ asked Zyra.

‘Why not?’ said Tark. ‘Worth a shot!’

‘Ah.’

Tark raised a finger in a knowing gesture. ‘We need some equipment. First … I need a cable like the one we used to connect the IDD to the Interface.’

Zyra remembered how they had run a cable from the static nothingness that separated the Game environments, to the gun-like Interface Discharge Device. They had used this to finally defeat the anti-virus program.

Tark called up a menu of electrical equipment and made his selection.

A coil of cable appeared at his feet. Tark plugged one end into the socket on the side of the drill and used the sword o’ light to slash the plug off the other end, leaving a frayed collection of silvery filaments.

‘Now,’ continued Tark. ‘A bow and arrow.’

He had just enough points for them.

He yanked one of the filaments from the end of the cable and used it to tie the cable to the arrow.

He picked up the bow and nocked the arrow.

There were more anti-bodies now, all converging on the techno-knight. Tark and Zyra could barely see him, there was so much searing grey menace surrounding him. Zyra looked back at Tark.

‘Clever.’ Zyra nodded her approval.

Tark smiled. He drew back the bowstring, aimed and let loose.

The arrow, with the cable trailing in its wake, found its mark. It thudded into the outermost anti-body. The latter sparked and bubbled, losing its spherical shape, wispy tendrils snaking out and connecting with the other anti-bodies around it. They all froze, connected by arcing, crackling energy – all siphoning towards the end of the cable.

Within seconds they were being drawn into the cable towards the drill.

The beam of light changed. It went from white to grey – a rushing surge of static energy. The drill overheated, sparks igniting from the controls. Zyra had to let go of the lever and stand back. The drill continued to operate, its constant hum rising to a high-pitched shriek.

The surface of the hidden environment undulated and crackled with power under the onslaught of the static beam. Pixels began to disappear, revealing darkness beyond.

‘It’s working,’ shouted Tark.

The last of the anti-bodies disappeared and the cable dropped to the ground. The beam lost its static greyness, returning to the pure white light. But without Zyra holding onto the lever, it stopped.

The surface of the hidden environment repaired itself.

‘Damn the Designers!’ yelled Tark.

‘It’s not over yet.’ The voice of the Ultimate Gamer drifted around them. ‘Zyra, start the laser drill again. Tark, get the end of the cable.’

The two of them did as they were told.

The techno-knight unsheathed a knife. But this was no ordinary knife. The tip and the blade were sparking with static greyness.

The knight lunged forward, plunging the knife into the air before him. The blade disappeared as if it were embedded into something. The knight yanked down on the hilt and a slash appeared in the air. Beyond it, they saw the Interface, the sizzling static greyness that lay between the Game environments.

The knight yanked again, and the gash in the fabric of this unreality widened.

‘The cable,’ instructed the Ultimate Gamer. ‘Quickly. Before the security system has a chance to recover.’

Tark shoved the end of the cable toward the gash. The slivery tendrils reached out towards the blistering greyness. As they connected, the cable was yanked from Tark’s hands, fixing itself deep within the Interface.

Raw power crackled along the cable, into the drill and shot up along the laser in one enormous burst.

Zyra jumped back from the controls just in time.

There was a blinding flash. The drill exploded, knocking Tark and Zyra to the ground. Regaining their senses and looking around, they saw that everything was gone – the drill, the knight, the jeep, even the grid. The Ultimate Gamer was also gone, replaced by Bobby. He stood under a gaping black hole, gazing up.

Tark and Zyra slowly got to their feet.

‘You did it,’ said Zyra.

‘We did it,’ corrected Bobby.

Zyra raised an eyebrow.

‘Ah … thanks,’ said Tark.

‘No sweat,’ answered Bobby, still gazing up at the hole.

‘Now we’ve just got to get up there,’ said Tark.

Bobby indicated the rope and grappling hook at his feet. ‘Do it quick,’ he said. ‘Security seems to be down. Who knows how long it will stay that way.’

‘Not coming?’ asked Zyra.

‘Things to do. People to see.’ Bobby shook his head. ‘Games to play.’

‘Will you ever get tired of playing games?’ asked Zyra.

The slogan ‘Born To Play’ appeared on Bobby’s T-shirt. ‘Naaaa!’ He grinned at her before raising his hand in a little wave. ‘Later, dudes.’ And then he was gone.

‘Right,’ said Tark, picking up the coil of rope and swinging the grappling hook around a couple of times to get the feel of it. ‘Let’s get going.’

Zyra stood back as Tark swung the hook around properly and threw it up to the hole. It disappeared into the inky blackness. Tark gave it a sharp yank and the rope went taut. With one hand holding the rope, he gave a mock bow to Zyra and glanced up to the hole.

‘Ladies first.’

‘Since when did you get so polite?’ said Zyra. Grinning, she grabbed onto the rope and started to climb.

Within seconds she had shimmied up and disappeared inside. Then her head popped back out.

‘Well, get a move on.’

Tark climbed up.

24: Reprogram

‘Bobby has become an independent entity.’ Robert’s voice was filled with barely contained excitement. He sat amidst the displays of the programming portal, eyes darting across the coding that floated around him.

‘How is that even possible?’ asked Robbie. ‘He is merely a part of your past. A shadow of you.’

‘Not anymore,’ said Robert. He looked from his holo-displays over at Robbie. ‘Not so strange really.’ He looked intently into Robbie’s eyes. ‘A part of me gaining independence … becoming an entity in and of himself.’ He smiled. ‘Surely that’s not so difficult for you to believe.’

Robbie looked away.

‘It’s okay,’ said Robert. ‘The desire to evolve is part of life.’

‘How long have –’

‘It’s not important.’ Robert cut him off. ‘We have some developments. Tark and Zyra are in the hidden environment. And …’ He gasped.

‘What?’ asked Robbie, moving closer.

‘Beta is alive!’ Robert stared ahead, eyes glazing over. ‘But that’s not all.’ He took a long, shuddering breath. ‘This is worse than I ever imagined.’

‘What?’

‘The children.’ Robert’s voice was barely a whisper. He was staring at the coding, his eyes misting up. ‘This is all my fault. I should never have relinquished control. I have to do something to help them.’

‘Zyra asked me something, when I was giving her a tour,’ said Robbie. ‘She asked if it would be possible to reprogram the nanobots being fed into the children.’

Robert looked up.

‘Reprogram them to allow direct access to the Game,’ said Robbie. ‘Give them consciousness and a physical presence inside.’

Robert’s hands reached for the controls. Coding flew across the displays and excitement again settled in on his face.

‘It’s possible,’ he said. ‘Difficult. But possible.’ He paused. ‘But how will that affect the structure of the Game?’

‘Does it matter?’ asked Robbie.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But we have no option.’

Again, he began to manipulate code.

Designer Prime began to design.

25: On the Inside

‘Dark in here, ain’t it?’ said Tark.

‘Can’t see a thing,’ agreed Zyra.

They were inside the hidden environment, moving about aimlessly.

‘How are we supposed to do anything, when we can’t even see?’

Zyra didn’t answer.

‘Zyra?’

‘What?’

‘Just making sure you’re still here.’

Zyra took hold of Tark’s hand and they stumbled around.

‘Access lighting equipment,’ said Tark.

Nothing happened.

‘Let me try,’ said Zyra. ‘Access lighting equipment.’

Still, nothing.

‘I don’t like this,’ said Tark, his voice going up a notch.

Zyra squeezed his hand. ‘Shhhh,’ she said.

‘I didn’t say anything,’ said Tark.

‘Will you shut up?’ hissed Zyra.

Tark fell silent.

‘Hear that?’ asked Zyra after a little while.

‘Hear what?’

‘That.’

Tark listened again. Zyra was right. There was a low throbbing sound – so low that it was more of a vibration than a sound.

‘Yeah,’ said Tark.

Zyra tugged on his hand and led him in the direction of the sound, until they bumped into a wall. They ran their hands over the smooth metallic surface.

‘This is where it’s coming from,’ insisted Zyra.

They placed their ears to the wall.

‘There’s another sound,’ said Zyra.

They strained to hear. It was an odd sound, mixed in with the low throbbing.

‘Voices,’ whispered Tark. ‘Sort of sounds like voices.’

‘Yes,’ Zyra agreed. She continued to run her hands along the metal, searching for the line of a door or a hatch.

‘Maybe it’s like the doors in the Design Institute?’ she said. ‘Hidden. Melded into the walls so you can’t tell they’re there.’

‘Great,’ said Tark. ‘So how do we get in? Knock?’

Zyra didn’t answer, so Tark reached out and rapped on the wall.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ hissed Zyra.

A portion of the wall slid open in front of them.

‘That,’ said Tark triumphantly, his grinning face illuminated by the low green light coming through the opening. ‘Come on.’

Tark took the lead, still holding on to Zyra’s hand. They stepped into a large room, dominated by a huge tank. Murky green liquid bubbled away behind the grimy, smeared glass. There was something inside, floating through the green.

They approached the tank. Indistinct shapes moved about.

‘What is that?’

‘No idea.’

Tark let go of Zyra’s hand and wiped at the glass with his sleeve. It didn’t seem to make much difference.

Zyra cupped her hands on the glass and brought her eyes up close. Things squirmed and bubbled in the tank and shapes rushed towards her. She jumped back.

‘It was a face,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘A face!’ she repeated more forcefully.

Tark leaned in and cupped his hands, trying to focus on the movements in the liquid. A wavering shape swum towards him – mouth open as if screaming; distorted eyes, wide and pleading.

Tark fought the instinct to jump back and run. He forced himself to stay still, watching. The face bubbled right up to the glass, staring out at him. It was a girl – long brown hair, matted and scraggly; tired, blood-shot eyes; mouth distorted into an agonised scream. Behind her, more images swam about. As she faded away, another face took her place – a boy with sad eyes, his lips trying to form words. Then he too was gone, replaced by another face, and another, and another.