Gamers' Rebellion (6 page)

Robbie began the proceedings. ‘My name is Robbie and this is Zyra. We would like to talk with you.’

The girl made no response, her eyes still fixed on Zyra.

‘I understand that you have already been questioned by the Administrators,’ continued Robbie. ‘And that your name is Mel.’

The girl finally moved her eyes to look at Robbie.

‘We were hoping that you might be able to answer some questions,’ he said.

Still no response from the girl.

‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH TARK?’ Zyra shouted.

The girl blinked and slowly shifted her gaze back to Zyra.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ asked Zyra, her voice back to a normal level. ‘She doesn’t move. She doesn’t talk. Can she even understand us? Is she stupid?’

‘She can’t move,’ explained Robbie. ‘She is in a restraining chair. She is held in place with a low-level force-field. It should be set so as to allow her to speak. And she can certainly hear us.’

Zyra returned her attention to Mel. ‘Well hear this. If Tark has been hurt in any way, I will kill you. You got that? I
will
kill you – slowly and painfully.’

Mel blinked.

‘So tell us what the hell you’ve done with Tark,’ said Zyra.

Mel closed her eyes.

‘Fine,’ said Zyra, getting to her feet. ‘If that’s the way you want it.’ She shoved the desk to one side and strode forward.

‘Stop!’ said Robbie.

Zyra ignored him and made a grab for Mel’s throat. Her hand stopped millimetres from its target. Try as she might, she could not get her hand to close around the girl’s throat.

Zyra gave up and tried to pull back instead. That didn’t work either. Her hand was stuck, immobilised by the same force-field that held Mel in place.

‘I warned you,’ said Robbie, still seated at the other end of the room. ‘You have triggered a security alert as well.’

‘Tark is fine.’ Mel’s voice was a harsh whisper, barely audible.

Zyra gave up struggling and stared at her.

‘We rescued him from this evil place,’ hissed Mel. ‘They steal people. Kids. Find out what happens to them.’

A door opened up behind Mel. A guard and a technician entered.

‘You’re special,’ said Mel. ‘Be careful.’

‘This is not acceptable,’ stated the technician in a bland voice.

He tapped at his computer tablet. Zyra’s hand came free and she staggered back. Mel went limp in the chair, slumping forward.

‘Don’t trust any of them,’ whispered Mel.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said the technician, leaning forward.

Mel sprang up, knocking the tablet from the technician’s hand, and grabbed him around the throat. The guard immediately raised his arm, power-glove at the ready.

Zyra tensed, her hands automatically going for her knives … that weren’t there.

Mel edged towards the door, keeping the technician between herself and the guard.

‘Stop!’ the guard demanded, his voice deep and gravelly.

Mel continued to move across the room.

Zyra looked from Mel to the guard and back to Mel. Their eyes met. Should she help Mel? If Mel escaped, she might be able to lead her to Tark.

Robbie’s hand gently touched her shoulder.

There was a crackle of energy and the technician collapsed to the floor with a whimper, leaving Mel out in the open.

Mel froze, eyes wide.

The guard fired his power-glove again and Mel was slammed back against the wall by the bolt of energy. Her unconscious body crumpled to the floor. The guard swiftly strode forward, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. Then he marched out of the room.

The technician groaned and placed a hand to his throbbing head. Staggering to his feet he noticed Zyra and Robbie staring at him, and paused. As if greatly embarrassed by the events, he hurriedly picked up his tablet and rushed from the room.

‘Interesting,’ said Robbie thoughtfully.

‘What is?’ asked Zyra, as the door they had entered through reopened.

‘What Mel said to you.’

Zyra’s eyes locked onto Robbie. ‘You heard?’

‘I have exceptional hearing,’ said Robbie.

***

‘Everyone has their own agenda,’ said Robbie, leading Zyra down the corridor. ‘Mel is right. You should not trust anyone. Not completely, at any rate.’

‘What about you?’ asked Zyra.

‘Would you like a tour?’ Robbie ignored her question.

‘Really?’ said Zyra. ‘I’m allowed?’

‘I would not be permitted to show you everything,’ admitted Robbie. ‘But there is a reasonable amount that I can.’

‘Can you show me the Game?’ asked Zyra.

‘What do you mean exactly?’

‘Well …’ Zyra thought about it. ‘The computer that it is on? Or the hard drive? Or whatever?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Robbie.

More corridors. Blank white walls with harsh overhead lighting. Zyra wondered how anyone could know where they were going.

Finally, Robbie placed his hand on a portion of wall and a door opened. He led the way in.

The first thing that struck Zyra was the humidity. It was like walking into a wall of moist heat and finding it difficult to breathe.

Robbie had brought her into a room with a pool – at least, that was her initial impression. It was a sunken vat, about five metres in diameter. It was filled with a green, gelatinous substance that churned and bubbled and frothed. Tubes and pipes and wiring fed into the ‘pool’, disappearing from view beneath the surface. They snaked around the rim of the pool and connected to the walls around it. Condensation collected on the walls and ceiling, and dripped.

Although the room was white like all the others, the lighting was subdued. And the green gelatinous substance glowed from within.

‘What is this stuff?’ asked Zyra.

‘Billions upon billions of organic nanobots,’ answered Robbie.

‘What are they for?’

‘They are the mainframe,’ said Robbie. ‘The matrix of information. They are the storage and the operation. In essence, they are the Game.’

‘So …’ Zyra stared into the pool. ‘The Game is alive.’

‘In a way,’ said Robbie. ‘The nanobots are organic. But they are not sentient.’

‘So this is the Game data.’ Zyra lifted a hand to her ear but there was no metal stud for her to play with. ‘How do the Designers control it all?’

‘Programming portals. I can show you one.’

He led the way to another room. It was smaller and it was empty.

Zyra scanned the room. ‘There’s nothing here.’

Robbie walked to the centre of the room. ‘Activate portal.’

‘Security scan,’ announced a disembodied, androgynous voice.

Waves of green light flickered across Robbie’s body.

‘Identity confirmed,’ said the voice. ‘Welcome, Robbie. Level four portal access granted.’

Holographic controls materialised around Robbie. His hands moved across the circle of keyboards, and into the mid-air displays, manipulating data directly and rearranging code.

‘It’s like the Ultimate Gamer’s interface,’ breathed Zyra.

‘I suppose it is,’ agreed Robbie. ‘This is Designer Prime’s portal. It is the original one. Each of the other Designers has one as well. Designer Prime allows me to use his.’

His hands continued to fly across the holographic displays.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Zyra.

‘Nothing of any importance,’ said Robbie. ‘I am writing the coding for a cloud formation in the shape of my face. It will appear in Suburbia at random times, for exactly three point four seconds at each manifestation before beginning to disperse.’

‘Oh,’ said Zyra. ‘How creative of you.’

‘It amuses me,’ responded Robbie, his hands slowing down. ‘Session complete. Deactivate portal.’

The holographic displays disappeared and they were again in an empty room.

‘So,’ said Zyra, watching Robbie carefully. ‘You need amusing. Interesting for a robot clone.’

‘Would you like to try using the portal?’ asked Robbie.

‘Me?’ Zyra’s voice betrayed her surprise. ‘I don’t know anything about coding or programming. I wouldn’t know what to do.’

‘You would not be able to do anything,’ said Robbie. ‘Designer Prime has simply arranged observer level access for you.’

‘Um … okay then.’

Robbie stepped aside to allow Zyra into the centre of the room. ‘Activate portal.’

‘Security scan,’ announced the voice.

Zyra flinched as the waves of green light flickered across her body.

‘Identity confirmed,’ said the voice. ‘Welcome, Zyra. Observer level access granted.’

A holographic display of tiny images encircled Zyra. It was like being in the middle of hundreds of mini television screens.

‘This is the environment menu. Each image represents a Game environment,’ explained Robbie. ‘Simply touch the one you would like to observe.’

Zyra chose an image at random. The image enlarged and enveloped her. She found herself in a holographic jungle, wan light filtering down through a lush green canopy.

‘Raise your arm and extend it to move forward,’ instructed Robbie. ‘Then point into whichever direction you want to go. Punch forward to increase speed. Pull back to reduce.’

Zyra extended her arm and moved through the undergrowth, passing through bushes and trees. Looking around, she saw animals in the undergrowth and in the branches – snakes, monkeys, lizards and birds. They were all moving around as if on fast forward.

‘Why are the animals moving around so fast?’ asked Zyra. ‘I can hardly see them.’

‘Time differential,’ said Robbie. ‘The time scale inside the Game is variable. It can be sped up or slowed down. Accelerated development can allow the Designers to observe decades of progress over the course of mere hours.’

‘Oh.’

Zyra continued to move through the landscape.

‘You can also move up and down,’ said Robbie. ‘When you’ve had enough, swipe your hand, as if you are karate chopping an opponent.’

‘Are robots programmed to be funny?’ asked Zyra.

Robbie did not answer.

Zyra karate chopped a tree and the jungle disappeared. She looked at the environment menu, searching through the myriad images.

‘To your left, third from the bottom,’ said Robbie.

‘How did you know what I was looking for?’ asked Zyra. She located and poked her finger at the World that had been her home.

‘Lucky guess,’ answered Robbie.

‘You don’t seem like a robot to me,’ said Zyra, as the City loomed up around her. She jumped as a gang of mutants appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared again. She raised her arm and moved through the environment. It was mostly deserted. Only a few people flickered in and out of existence. Occasionally the City was plunged into darkness, only to return to daylight seconds later.

‘It seems even faster here,’ said Zyra. ‘It’s hard to follow anything at this speed.’

Robbie stepped forward and leaned into the display. A holographic keyboard materialised. He hit a few keys and stepped back. Everything slowed down to a normal pace.

‘I’ve stabilised the time differential for you,’ he explained.

Zyra continued to search through the City. It wasn’t long before she found the basement hideout that she used to inhabit with Tark – currently inhabited by copies of them.

The basement was empty.

‘Out questing, no doubt,’ said Robbie.

Zyra swiped her hand as if she really did want to karate chop someone, and the holographic image disappeared.

‘Deactivate portal,’ she grunted.

She was again in an empty room with just a supposed robot clone for company.

‘All very impressive,’ said Zyra.

‘We should return to Designer Prime.’

11: Food

Devon put a bowl and spoon onto the rickety trestle table. Tark sat down and winced. He was still wearing the ill-fitting, torn lab coat, but now he wore a pair of pink bike shorts underneath. They were also too tight. He pulled at the clinging lycra.

‘Sorry about the clothes,’ said Devon. ‘I’ve sent Len to try and find you something better.’

Tark grunted and looked down at his food – if you could call it that. It was a grey mush that looked very unappetising indeed. He picked up the spoon and plunged it into the bowl.

‘Wots is it?’

‘It’s a high protein, high carb energy food,’ said Devon. ‘It comes in powdered form and you mix it with water. And it’s cheap.’ He smiled. ‘Better than it sounds. I mixed in some sugar and some powdered milk as well.’

Tark lifted the spoon to his mouth and tentatively gave it a try. It had the consistency of mud. But it was sweet. And now that he had put a little into his mouth, he realised how hungry he was.

‘Nots bad,’ he said, shovelling the slush into his mouth.

Devon sat down next to Tark.

‘What’s it like?’ asked Devon. ‘In the Game?’

Tark swallowed and looked over at the boy. There was a curiosity that verged on eagerness in his eyes.

‘Dunno.’ Tark shrugged. ‘Dangerous. Um. It wuz … wells … everything. It wuz alls I knew. It wuz … just our lives, I guess.’

‘Oh.’ Devon nodded as if he understood.

Tark doubted that he did. He took another mouthful, chewed on the lumps and swallowed. He looked at Devon. ‘So, why is ya doing all this?’

‘The boss already explained,’ he said. ‘We don’t like what the Designers are doing. We’re rebelling.’