Solarversia: The Year Long Game (49 page)

Attendance at a Spiralwerks-affiliated gaming cafe had been compulsory, so players in remote locations had flown to their nearest city in order to participate. Spiralwerks had always promised that success in Solarversia wouldn’t rest solely on gaming skills. They had gone so far as to promote it as a form of ‘holistic immersion’. Of course, the skills required in regular gaming went a long way, and everyone knew that luck played a small part too. But they had promised that trivia, creativity, psychology and popularity would also feature.

The Show and Tell round required players to build something — a real-world object — that would then be submitted to a popular vote. That morning she had turned up to The Commodore and been assigned to Denis, her ‘Maker Mentor’, who would advise her as to the kind of objects that would be admissible in the round and provide a degree of direction and support.

“How are we doing with our list of ideas? Are we progressing OK, or do we require Denis’s assistance?” Denis gently pressed the pads of his fingers together while he spoke. Nova found him to be as condescending as he was bald. She swore that if he referred to himself in the third person again, she’d scream. She looked at the pad in front of her on the workbench and felt a cold sweat creep across her brow. The doodles in the margins outnumbered the ideas by ten to one, and even they were shit.

The thought of crashing out after coming so far filled her with dread. Especially if it meant someone like Pedey Gonzalez winning instead. That morning’s White Dwarf had informed her that the American woman — the person who had fired a Sucker at her Shadow in Bouncy Baltimore — had made it through to this latest round. As if that hadn’t been annoying enough already, it was nothing compared to the news that both Holly
and
Jools van der Star were also through.

A realisation struck her. If either one of them became Grand Champion, it would be
them
, rather than
her
, who ended up helping to design the next Game. The beads of sweat on her brow multiplied in an instant. It was a chilling thought. The thing she loved most in the world tainted by whatever crass, moronic thing one of those tools came up with.

“My suggestions are utter dog shite. I’m embarrassed to say them out loud.”

“Oh, come on now, don’t be silly. I’m sure Denis has heard worse.”

She scowled at him before remembering the overall objective of Project Nova — to be the best person she was capable of being. And that meant employing a degree of kindness and compassion when it was called for. She took a deep breath through her nose and continued.

“OK, then, my suggestions, in descending order of suck. A pair of singing scissors. Never again be bored while you’re snipping.”

Denis caressed his chin in a manner that gave her the creeps. “Right. Any others?”

“You know those books you get in the movies, with the insides carved out of them so you can smuggle items into and out of jail? A his and hers version of them.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“A mechanical Venus fly trap that catches fruit flies—”

“You know the aim is to win a public vote, don’t you? I had such high hopes for you.” A bell sounded and Denis pranced upwards like an eager Jack Russell. “Be right back, it sounds like Denis is wanted at the front desk.”

A voice came from behind her, too close for comfort.

“Does that say ‘singing scissors’?” A peal of laughter. Nova slung her arms defensively over her notepad before looking round.

“Oh. Hi, Holly.” She had known Holly was at The Commodore too, working on her project, but she’d just assumed they’d stay out of each other’s way. But no, here she was with a stupid smile plastered all over her silly bimbo face.

“Fancy seeing you here. Jools and I are astonished you’re still in. A lucky guess at the Decision Dome followed by a mediocre dive …”

Jools and I? What were they, the Anti-Nova League?

“The dive was mediocre on purpose. I applied my knowledge of psychology—”

“Sure you did. Anyway, everyone knows you only survived Bounty Hunter because of the items you received from the wills, rather than from having mastered the Science.”

“Seems like you’ve been taking a lot of interest in my progress.”

“Yah, well. I heard you got together with Charlie. I came over to say that I think you suit each other. Losers should stick together.”

Nova got up from her chair to square up to her.

“Wow, Holly. Why do you have to be so rude?”

It came out sounding a bit pathetic. Also, she’d forgotten that Holly had a good five inches on her. Holly smirked down at her.

“Don’t know if you heard, but Jools and I are an item these days. The press love the fact that we’re both still in The Game. We’ve become something of a celebrity couple. Besides, Charlie was crap in bed. You’ve probably discovered that for yourself by now.”

Nova’s mouth hung open while her brain tried to process what she was hearing.

“I really should be getting back. Good luck with your …” Holly grabbed the pad of ideas off the table before Nova could stop her. “His ’n’ hers hidey books. What a joke.”

She slung the pad back onto the table and walked away, laughing.

Nova counted to ten and waited for the blood to drain from her face. The build-up to Solarversia had taught her that patience was a virtue. Revenge on Holly could wait. Nova looked around the workshop to see the other Solos making good progress on their prototypes. It was midday already. She’d wasted the entire morning and only had thirty hours before she’d have to present her creation to the world.

Or at least, the country. The Show and Tell round took place at a national level, with a certain number of spaces in the final thousand allocated to each country. Of the ten thousand players left, 289 of them were British. And only twenty-nine spots were reserved for them in the fifth round.

She reread her list of ideas and let out a huge sigh. Her mind was blank. She’d heard of writer’s block. Perhaps this was a case of its less well-known brother, the inventor’s block. She twirled the tips of her hair around her mouth. A hair curler in the shape of a tongue? No, Nova. Denis returned to her bench carrying a package.

“It’s addressed to you. Don’t tell Denis you’ve ordered something online?” He wagged his finger at her and in a sing-song manner said, “He’ll know you’ve been cheeaa-ting.”

Nova’s face lit up. Officer Dibble had called her yesterday to say that Zhang was no longer required as evidence, and had promised to FedEx him for next day delivery. She ripped the box apart, tore the protective plastic wrapper from him and was delighted to find that he even had some charge left. After many minutes of hugs and kisses, she placed him on the table and beamed at Denis as if she was showing off a newborn baby. Zhang spied her pen, picked it up and drummed it against the lathe affixed to the side of the bench.

“Denis, meet my buddy Zhang. He’s a first generation Electropet and he totally rocks my world.”

“Enchanté, Zhang. Nice drumming.” He turned to Nova with a pout and raised his eyebrows. “What a talented little friend you have, Nova.”

***

In the yellow glow of her bedside light that evening, Nova caught sight of her tattoo in the vanity mirror on her desk. She moved her shoulder back and forth, studying the reflected view. Something was calling out to her. It took a few moments before she realised what it was. Sushi. She hadn’t visited her in ages.

As Charlie snored quietly behind her, she tried to remember the date of her last visit. No chance. Far too much had been going on. Still, it was weird not to have missed her friend that much. Slipping her headset on, she dialled her finger round the tattoo and placed a finger on each of its dots. The Seattle skyline preview remained unchanged since before Christmas.

“Hey, Nova, how are you?”

Nova turned the high-backed chair away from Charlie, slunk into it and whispered to her friend, “I’m great, but things have gone crazy again.”

“Why are we whispering?”

“Charlie is sleeping. I don’t want to wake him. Listen, I’ve got something to show you. Guess who this is.”

Hundreds of images appeared in the sky in front of Sushi’s bench, of a man with a long white beard, short grey hair and dark circular glasses, his face shown from a number of different angles. Full body shots included a bionic arm dotted with a grid of lights. Nova glanced between them and her friend, who examined a few up close before speaking again.

“It looks like Theodore Markowsky.”

“Exactly. Sushi, this is the guy that killed you.”

Sushi stared back at her friend but didn’t speak.

“The afternoon they released his name I was playing in the third round, Bounty Hunter, and members of the Order started attacking me
in
The Game, placing these outrageous bounties on my head, so I kept getting beamed to the Southdome where all the animals were. Anyway, the next day the FBI raided the Order’s compound and they ended up killing or capturing practically everyone there — except for Theodore and this one other guy. They escaped, can you believe it?”

“You seem to be …”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I can’t quite place it. It’s almost like you’re excited that he escaped.”

“Well, it
is
kind of exciting. He’s out there somewhere.
Him
. The person responsible for your death. The person who tried to kill Zhang and me. When I think about him, I feel so angry, I just want to—”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Stab him in the eye. Shoot him in the balls. Kill him dead. Just get him.”

“Nova. You’re not … thinking of doing something stupid, are you?”

Nova grabbed a chunk of hair and twirled it around her finger, conscious of not sticking it into her mouth.

“What do mean, ‘something stupid’?”

“Remember the trouble you and Burner got into last year? You nearly got yourself killed, that’s what I mean.”

“What can I do anyway? He’s in America. Don’t get me wrong, I check the alerts that Gogmagog sends out, who doesn’t? If I was in a position to do something, I’d do whatever it took. But the authorities are after him. I’m sure they’ll get him. They have to, right? How d’you reckon they’ll kill him? I think the electric chair. I keep fantasising they’ll build a replica to the one on Bruno.”

Sushi looked puzzled.

“The electric chair on Bruno, my boat. You helped me design it, remember?”

“You seem overly hyped.”

“That’s because it feels like he’s got it in for me. First he kills you, then he tries to kill me, and when he fails to do that, he comes after me in The Game.
Our
game, Sushi, the one we swore to play together until the end, whatever it took.”

Sushi held her hands out, palms up, and shrugged.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me, to know that I’m progressing through the final rounds.”

“I guess I am happy to see you … except you haven’t visited in ages.”

The images of Markowsky were replaced by a graph showing the frequency of Nova’s visits.

“I appreciate that you’re spending a lot of time with Charlie, which is awesome, and that you’re doing well in Solarversia. But you’re obsessing over a dangerous criminal. I don’t know how that’s going to help either of us. And I’ve missed you. I’d like my Solarversia Sister to visit more often.”

“Woah. I didn’t realise that dead people could be so adept at guilt trips. Is this some new module you’ve downloaded?”

“Are you for real? This is how you programmed me — to be as close as possible to the person you were best friends with. I’m reacting like the real Sushi would have done. You’ve been a shitty friend is what I’m saying.”

There followed an impossibly long, awkward silence where Nova was unable to maintain eye contact with her friend. She waited for Sushi to speak, but the avatar of her dead friend stared straight back at her, coldly.

“Fuck off then,” she said and tore the Booners from her head. She slumped in the chair, gasping for breath.

There’d been only one occasion when they’d fallen out like that before. It was in the run-up to the Harrisons’ move to Seattle. Sushi had been acting like she wouldn’t miss Nova at all. After a few weeks of trying to be extra nice and appear excited for her, Nova started feeling really hurt. Sushi never seemed to acknowledge how shitty it would be for her, stuck in the ’Stone on her own.

She’d acted petulantly, then bitchily, and finally stopped speaking to her altogether. After an awkward, frosty week at school, they squabbled like little children in maths, cried during lunch break, and then made up with more tears and plenty of hugs. Soon after that they’d had their final sleepover, the night they had declared themselves Solarversia Sisters.

Maybe she should never have logged in to Soul Surfer. Perhaps she should have said farewell to her friend for good, like a normal person would’ve done. The way people had been dealing with death for millennia. Some choice words at a memorial service. Some flowers laid on a manicured grave. Ashes scattered at a favourite place.

Her chin quivered with the thought. She hated herself for entertaining the notion, even for a second. Her life may be unorthodox, what with Zhang and Sushi as her friends, a preference for virtual worlds, and an obsession with one of the most dangerous men on the planet, but it was
her
life, damn it, and she’d do with it as she pleased.

Clambering onto the bed, she wrapped her arms around Charlie’s warm, strong body. He was sound asleep. She nestled her head against his back and held on tight. After their big fallout years ago, she and Sushi had made a promise not to be so stupid again, not to fall out over
anything
. It was a promise she had wanted to honour until the day she died and she vowed there and then to fix the mess the very next day.

***

It was time. The single player from the Ukraine had been voted through to the fifth round, and now it was the turn of the United Kingdom. Nova went to take of swig of beer and was surprised to see her hand trembling. She became acutely aware of everyone in the room, dozens of pairs of eyes flitting between her and the giant screens showing the results.