Gamers' Rebellion (3 page)

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Authors: George Ivanoff

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Gamers' Rebellion
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‘Okay,’ said the boy. ‘Do it!’

A bright white light flashed from within the machine, blinding Tark.

6: Administrators

Robbie led Zyra into another sterile white room. This one had a white table with three people seated behind it. The woman in the centre wore a dark blue suit, her peach- coloured lipstick matching the colour of her tie. Her dyed black hair was short and spiky. The woman to her left also wore a blue suit, but of a lighter shade, with her hair and makeup mimicking that of the other woman. The man wore a white lab coat, with a pale blue jumpsuit beneath. All three were intently studying computer tablets, their fingers brushing the surfaces and scrolling through information.

Robbie pointed to a lone white chair positioned a metre in front of the table.

Zyra raised an eyebrow but remained where she was.

‘Sit,’ said the woman in the centre, indicating the chair, her attention never leaving her tablet.

The other woman stifled a yawn.

Zyra cleared her throat loudly before striding forward to sit purposefully in the chair, her feet placed firmly on the floor in front of her – ready to leap up at a moment’s notice. It was only once she was in the chair that she realised it was quite low, forcing her to look up towards the people behind the desk. From her position, Zyra saw that the desk was quite high, the people behind it seated on stools, their feet well off the floor.

Robbie positioned himself behind her right shoulder.

The woman in the centre continued working on her computer tablet, fingers tapping away. The other two now placed their tablets on the table and stared at Zyra, eyes not betraying any emotion. They both looked rather tired.

‘Where’s Tark?’ asked Zyra, deciding to jump in and start the conversation. ‘I want to see him.’

The woman in the centre held up a single finger as an indication for Zyra to stop talking.

Zyra huffed and crossed her arms.

The woman placed the tablet flat onto the surface of the table and looked down at Zyra. She pursed her peachy lips.

‘We are the Administrators,’ she announced as if expecting a standing ovation. Her voice was loud and precise. ‘I am the Chief Administrator.’

The woman to her left spoke next, her manner and inflection a carbon copy of her superior. ‘I am Second Administrator Dorien.’

The man, by contrast, spoke softly and slowly, although his eyes never lost their hard edge. ‘And I am Third Administrator and Designer-in-training, Welbourne.’

Zyra noted that he appeared a lot younger than the other administrators. They were, Zyra guessed, somewhere in their thirties or forties, while he couldn’t be more than twenty-five.

There was silence as the three of them continued to look at Zyra with inscrutable gazes.

Zyra tightened her arms in front of herself. ‘Well, my name –’

The Chief Administrator cut her off with another raised finger. ‘We are well aware of who you are,’ she said. ‘The question is – what is to be done with you?’

Administrator Welbourne shifted his gaze from Zyra to Robbie. ‘The scans indicate that the clone body is functioning correctly. You, robot, have interacted with her directly. Report.’

Zyra couldn’t help noticing the way he said the word
robot
, as if it were some kind of insult.

‘Zyra appears to be adapting well to her new body,’ said Robbie, glancing briefly at her. ‘She has accepted her existence in the real world. She is naturally curious about the situation that she finds herself in and wants to learn more. I believe that the more information she is provided with, the better her continued adaptation will be.’

Administrator Welbourne made some notes on his tablet.

‘She is quite concerned about her partner, Tark,’ continued Robbie.

Welbourne looked up sharply.

‘It would be of great benefit to her emotional wellbeing if she were allowed to see Tark.’ Robbie looked intently at the Administrators. ‘They have an emotional attachment. And her emotional wellbeing is as important as her physical and intellectual wellbeing.’

‘That will not be possible,’ said the Chief Administrator.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Zyra, uncrossing her arms.

‘You cannot see Tark,’ said the Administrator sharply, as if that explained everything.

‘Why not?’ demanded Zyra, jumping to her feet.

Robbie put a calming hand on her shoulder.

‘You cannot see him,’ said the Chief Administrator, ‘because he is not here.’

‘But –’ began Zyra.

The Chief Administrator raised a finger. ‘He has been abducted.’

‘What?’ Every muscle in Zyra’s body tensed.

‘A group of adolescents managed to breach security and abduct the other clone,’ explained the Chief Administrator. ‘They also apparently intended to abduct you, but were unsuccessful. They seemed to know exactly where to find the other, but had trouble locating you. By the time they did discover your location, it was too late and security was able to intercept them. One of their number was captured.’

‘She has been questioned,’ added the Second Administrator, ‘but has thus far proved uncooperative.’

‘We are digressing,’ announced the Chief Administrator. She indicated the chair to Zyra. ‘Sit!’

Zyra’s nostrils flared.

‘You’re telling me that Tark has been kidnapped,’ said Zyra. ‘Well, what are we going to do about it?’


You
are not going to do anything,’ said the Chief Administrator. ‘The other clone’s abduction will be handled by security.’

‘Would you stop calling us clones,’ shouted Zyra. ‘We are people! We have names!’

‘Zyra,’ said the Chief Administrator, pointedly. ‘Sit!’

Zyra clenched her fists.

‘Please,’ said Robbie, gently, his hand on her shoulder again. ‘Not now.’

Zyra hesitated a moment, then sat.

‘There is still the matter of this clone to decide.’ The Chief Administrator looked from one colleague to the next.

‘She needs to be studied,’ said Administrator Welbourne, eyes lighting up as he absently bit his lower lip. ‘We could discover much from so perfect a specimen.’

‘She is dangerous,’ said Administrator Dorien. ‘She should be placed in stasis.’

‘That would not be ideal,’ said Administrator Welbourne. ‘It would be so much better if she were conscious.’

‘Confinement, then.’ Administrator Dorien looked pointedly across at her colleague.

‘I am not some lab rat,’ Zyra blurted out.

The Chief Administrator went to raise her finger again.

‘Oh would you stop doing that,’ said Zyra, springing to her feet. ‘It’s very annoying and extremely rude.’

‘If I may be permitted to pass on a suggestion,’ said Robbie, stepping forward to stand beside Zyra.

The Administrators all looked to him with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

‘It is the opinion of Designer Prime that Zyra should not be confined,’ said Robbie, not waiting for the Administrators to respond. ‘Designer Prime believes that it is important for her to interact with her surroundings. Designer Prime proposes that she be allowed the freedom of this research facility.’

‘Ridiculous,’ said Administrator Dorien.

‘Interesting proposition,’ said Administrator Welbourne. Dorien immediately glared at him.

‘Impossible,’ said the Chief Administrator. ‘The research facility has far too many sensitive areas and –’

‘Designer Prime is quite insistent,’ interjected Robbie. ‘Designer Prime is willing to accept responsibility for her actions and offers my services as her guide to ensure her actions and movements remain appropriate.’

Zyra noticed the hint of a smile on Administrator Welbourne’s face, before it disappeared.

‘Very well,’ conceded the Chief Administrator, obviously far from happy with the situation. She got to her feet. ‘My objections will be noted in my report to Designer Alpha. This interview is now over.’

The other two administrators also got to their feet. A door opened in the wall behind them and all three left.

‘What just happened?’ asked Zyra.

‘A minor power struggle,’ said Robbie, thoughtfully.

7: Josie and the Rebels

As the light faded, Tark opened his eyes. Bright spots danced in his vision, obscuring everything. They diminished and a blurry form took shape.

Messy dark hair, golden brown skin, soft hazel eyes and full lips.

Tark smiled.

‘So, you are awake,’ said the beautiful face.

Tark suddenly remembered what had been going on. He sprang into a sitting position and almost fell off the table in surprise. Just a short while ago he could barely move a muscle, and here he was sitting up.

‘You seem to be recovering quite nicely,’ said the girl. ‘My name is Josie.’

Josie was short. She was dressed simply in grey cargo pants and black, long-sleeved T-shirt. She was arrestingly beautiful.

‘Oh … ah … I is Tark.’

‘You
is
Tark?’ Josie smirked. ‘Don’t you learn how to talk properly inside the Game?’

‘There ain’t nuthin’ wrong with the way I is talking,’ said Tark defensively.

‘Really?’ Josie sounded less than impressed. ‘Well, maybe not where you come from. But out here you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb if you keep speaking like that. And believe me, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself.’

The boy who had been giving orders earlier walked into the room carrying a computer tablet. Tark looked around, taking in his surroundings for the first time. The room looked like a cross between a storeroom and a makeshift laboratory. All sorts of medical equipment was sandwiched between crates and boxes. The windows had been covered over with black plastic and masking tape. The whole place had a worn-out ambiance.

‘Got the results, boss,’ said the boy.

‘Well?’ asked Josie. ‘Spit it out, Devon.’

‘He’s perfect!’ Devon handed the tablet to Josie.

Josie looked at the information on the screen, then back at Tark, arching one eyebrow. ‘Perfect, huh?’

Tark suddenly felt vulnerable under her gaze. And cold.

‘I is naked!’ he announced, surprised.

‘Yes,’ agreed Josie, looking him up and down. ‘Yes you are. You have an amazing talent for stating the obvious.’

Tark’s hands shot out in front of himself, trying to cover up the bits he didn’t really want out on public display.

‘Ah … I needs ta have clothes.’

‘Sure thing.’ Josie looked to Devon.

He sighed and went to rummage through a box in the corner of the room. He returned with an old lab coat covered with mysterious technicolour stains. Tark jumped down from the table, snatched the coat from Devon’s hand and hurriedly put it on.

‘Better?’ asked Josie.

‘It’ll do.’ Tark looked down at himself. The coat was too small. The sleeves were short on him, it barely reached mid-thigh level and the top buttons strained around his chest.

‘Very good,’ said Josie. ‘Now, can we get down to business? There’s a lot to fill you in on.’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Tark, eyeing Josie suspiciously. ‘How comes I is not looking like I is supposed ta? Where is Zyra? Dids we gets outta the Game?’ He took a step towards Josie, towering over her. ‘And what the hell is you up ta?’

8: Designer Prime

The door slid open and Robbie ushered Zyra into yet another white room.

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