Insidious (21 page)

Part of his conspiracy involved spending the first couple of hours patrolling a cycle. Given the space between players, he hoped there was a good chance he and his friends wouldn’t run into one another on their cycles. That way, they wouldn’t kill one another, so Captain would have to fight most of them directly.

Chris knew he had to go on. He stood up and rubbed his leg. It seemed to be recovering. He stepped forward slowly, taking small steps. He divided his attention between the lit areas ahead, behind, and the floor. How could he hurry through the well-lit zones if there were traps on the floor?

He held his gun up and ready. He hoped no one could be nearby so soon, but he couldn’t be too careful. It quickly became apparent how annoying it was to check forward for enemies, backward for enemies, and downward for traps all at the same time. The challenge already proved to have more difficult aspects than he’d anticipated.

I wonder if Captain’s avatar reflects its incarnate abilities. How well can it see? Can it hear us all walking around for great distances? It has to be possible to defeat it; otherwise, why would Alec put us through this?

Chris came to another intersection. He lingered in the shadows at the edge of rays of light coming down from a hole directly over the nexus of the tunnels. He kneeled down and leaned against the curve of the wall for camouflage.

He realized that he’d covered quite a distance already, and couldn’t easily find a turn back to his starting point. He’d gone left once and then been forced back right. Which way should he go this time? He thought if he could turn around, he’d still remember how to get back to where he started, but finding another route back was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated. He wanted to stick to the plan and patrol a tight cycle to avoid the other human players for as long as possible.

Movement in the light ahead caught his attention. Something was moving from the left to his right under the illumination of the ceiling hole in the intersection. It was a person. The movement didn’t look anything like the spin of Captain. Then that person was back into the shadows of the right side. Chris realized he had been holding his breath.

 
His first instinct was to take a different direction. He sought Captain, not the person ahead. Then he realized that he could follow the person and let him or her clear the way for him. He bolted through the intersection, staring only at the floor to avoid any traps. No shots came from either side. He made it through to the shadows beyond. He felt relieved, as much from the lack of fire as the fact that he hadn’t stepped on another trap. He’d gone through a little too quickly, he gauged. If there had been a trap, he may not have seen it in time to avoid it.

Chris held up his weapon and waited for the player ahead of him to reach the next ceiling hole. After a minute, Chris saw a man moving into the light ahead.

Here, the second part of his plan came into effect. Chris pointed his weapon a half meter to the left of the man ahead. He pulled the trigger. A visible-wavelength targeting beam indicated where his shot went, along with a black burn mark that appeared on the mossy stone next to the man.

The man glimpsed some smoke or steam from the miss. He stood shocked or confused for a moment. Then his head whipped back to scan for his attacker. Chris calculated he could have gotten another shot off in the time it took the man to spot him.

The man must have seen him, since he fired back, missing Chris by a wide margin as Chris stepped to his right. Chris realized that he might just as easily have stepped toward an intentional miss and gotten himself shot. Or maybe the man had been firing blind.

The opponent sprinted away and dodged around a corner to the right. Chris felt pleased by the exchange. They had put up the appearance of being hostile to each other, but neither of them had scored a hit, leaving them with as much life as possible to fight Captain. Chris also enjoyed the advantage of having someone in front of him to clear the way, or at least warn him of any danger. He needed to keep up and see which direction the man took.

He gave it a couple more seconds and then zigzagged for the corner. A part of him remained wary of betrayal. The man ahead could always be waiting for him at the corner. He knew enough game theory to realize that humans often sacrificed a common potential advantage for personal gain. Chris kneeled low at the turn and took a quick glance. He saw an empty tube, illuminated at intervals from the ceiling portals.

Chris took a longer look. He wondered if the man awaited him in the darkness between light ports. The man hadn’t tried to hit Chris before, or else he was a lousy shot. So Chris thought the man probably wouldn’t lay an ambush for him, either. Chris darted around the corner and moved into the first band of shadow.

Chris decided in the next few moments that the man he pursued must have run ahead recklessly in order to lose his pursuer. He couldn’t see anything ahead, and he felt confident he could see anyone closer than the second light portal before him. He strode forward as fast as he dared knowing that other floor traps must lay in the maze.

He cursed when he saw an intersection ahead. A ceiling portal illuminated the center, leaving the rest in shadow. Which way had the man gone? More likely left or right if the person was in on the strategy, trying for a loop. Chris took a moment to breathe and think. No need to go too quickly now that he’d lost the person. He took a long look back. Eventually someone might catch up with him.

Chris nervously edged his way to the intersection.

This is crazy. If this were real life, I’d never be so brave.

He ran out and took a right turn. No shots came out of the shadows toward him. His heart worked hard in his chest from the excitement. If he could make it long enough to challenge Captain, then maybe Alec Vineaux would notice Chris and assign him to a special project. Something that could make his career.

He leapfrogged past three light portals, each time pausing in the shadows to look for an opponent waiting in ambush. He didn’t spot any more floor traps, but he tried to stay loose and ready for anything.

Something looked wrong ahead. Chris kneeled in the shadows and froze, staring at the tunnel in front of him. He couldn’t see any more portals in the ceiling. The light from the last one spread wider that the others and had a different color to it. He stared for a minute, watching for any movement.

Finally, he started to crawl forward on all fours.
At least I couldn’t miss any floor traps in this position
.

He stopped to look. In one moment, his brain did a backflip and resolved what he saw: it was a flat wall blocking the way. He stood and walked toward the wall, alert for a deception.

The tunnel abruptly ended ahead. Chris couldn’t see any side passage. His eyes caught sight of a super thin, barely perceptible line of light just above the floor in front of the barrier. Another trap.

Apparently, his assumption about dead ends had been wrong. The red haze laced the air back the way he had come, marking the illegal direction. Chris paced back and forth at the wall a couple of times making sure to avoid the floor trap. At least this was a defensible position; he would be sure to notice anyone coming. Chris sat down against the wall and propped his weapon against his knees pointing it down the tube.

He sat and wondered how many others had hit a dead end. If everyone hit a wall and could not turn back, then the game would be deadlocked. No one would be able to move and finish the others off.

On a whim, he stood and started to feel the stone of the wall. The traps had been a surprise, so maybe there were secret doors as well. Who knows how many hidden secrets lay in the maze?

The wall felt solid. He couldn’t detect a telltale crack or seam. Chris checked the incoming direction again. He chastised himself. He could have been shot in the few seconds he spent checking for an opening.

Maybe I’m supposed to break the rules
, he thought. He knew Alec was a risk-taker. Maybe it was a test.

He put his back to the wall and took a couple gentle steps forward. Nothing.

He took two more steps ahead. The red glow brightened in the air. A warning? He sighed. He took another couple of steps.

Life force decremented
a voice told him.

“Dammit. I haven’t even been shot and I’ve only got two hit points left.”

Chris turned and walked back up to the wall.

“Dammit,” he said again. His own stupidity. It had seemed like a logical gamble. What if all the players were stuck at dead ends? Would the game reset itself? Would the wall lift and let him by?

Chris waited for a long time at the wall. He pointed his gun down the tube and watched. After awhile he kept finding that his mind would wander to his job back on Earth, Alec Vineaux and the gear, even Cinmei’s body. Often his eyes would go out of focus as he daydreamed. He wouldn’t see someone coming if his attention wasn’t focused, but he couldn’t sit and wait like a robotic monitoring station.

He wondered if it was a coincidence that the trap was here at the dead end. He guessed it might be more likely for someone to trip it here next to the wall. The red haze was advancing. His time was running out.

Should I shoot the trap? What could it hurt? The noise might bring someone … I have no choice.

Chris watched the corridor for another minute and then aimed his gun at the center of the trap. He let off a shot, which echoed loudly in the closed tube.

The floor faded into thin air inside the marked spot.

“Wow,” he whispered. He’d opened some sort of door.

Chris brandished his weapon and peeked down the hole. There were metal rungs set into the sheer walls of the hole. Although the passage was dark, the bottom was lit. He could see a small part of the gray stone floor of the level below. He didn’t see anyone down at the bottom.

He put his foot on one of the rungs and maneuvered himself carefully into the opening, trying to get a good perch while keeping his gun in hand. Someone could be waiting for him below. And there had been the noise of the shot.

He moved down another rung and another. He was fully into the descending tube now. He kept watching below.

Suddenly Chris felt a sharp pain on his left shoulder. The sound of a shot echoed through the tight space. Realizing someone had shot him from above, he released the rungs of the ladder. He instinctually looked down to see where he would fall, even as he realized he should be trying to focus upward and shoot.

One hit point left—

Another shot. He felt pain and everything went black.

Damn.

Chris opened his real eyes. He was sitting at a white table in one of the giant public atriums of the station. A metal bottle of cold tea sat where he had left it. He was numbly absorbing his defeat when he saw two people in blue-tipped gear walking up to his table.

One of the blues nodded at Chris as he stood.

“Come with us. You have an important meeting to go to,” the blue told him.

***

Chris waited in a large room with five chairs and a beautiful redwood desk. He suspected it must be real, although a good fake would be visually identical to the real thing. It must have been criminally expensive to haul it millions of miles from Earth. He realized that the room had to be an executive’s quarters. He examined an agile plant lazily exploring its surroundings with soft fronds in the corner. It sprouted from a giant crystal vase that looked transparent, although the complex angles of its exterior scattered the light so effectively it was hard to tell. Another costly piece of decoration, he thought. Anything that wasn’t manufactured in space had a cost based more on size and mass than anything else. That plant and its crystal vase were more than ordinary fare, even for Synchronicity.

The thought solidified further: he must be in Alec Vineaux’s personal suites!

“Chris. Please sit down,” said the voice of Alec Vineaux. Chris recognized it instantly. He turned and saw Alec coming through one of the doorways. The executive wore a set of yellow gear. He carried his helmet under his arm. “You may remove your helmet,” he told Chris.

Success! But I lost the challenge …

“Yes, sir,” he said, removing his headgear. He found the nearest plush chair and gently eased himself into it. He examined Alec’s face. The turn of his mouth and the lines around his eyes made him seem sad, even a little drawn.

Alec sat opposite him, across a low glass table with a black iron support wrought to look like an oriental dragon.

“I’m sorry to inform you that you’ve been switched to permanent assignment here on Synchronicity. You will not be allowed to return to Earth in the foreseeable future.”

Chris swallowed. Was that a good assignment or a bad one? Vineaux had said he was apologizing. Was this some kind of joke?

“May I ask why this is, sir?”

“I’ve learned about your plotting against Captain,” Alec said. “Quite frankly, I’m not surprised to see you doing it, given my selection criteria. However, I’m afraid that in this case, your competitive nature has led you to disaster.”

“You want us to be competitive,” Chris said. “You’ve handpicked us that way, trained us—”