The Game (2 page)

And there’s his name, right at the top:
PAUL!
It’s official. The crowd roars louder than ever and
Paul covers his ears for the noise. He pushes his way back to the
front where Mr. Ervin is conversing quietly with a tall, gray
haired man. Paul’s never seen him before.

“
Paul Gest?” The man sticks out his
hand. Paul grabs it and immediately wishes he hadn’t—it is soft,
clammy, and something doesn’t feel right about the way the man’s
bones feel under the skin. The bones don’t give and move like a
normal person’s—they are rigid and hard.

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Just call him Paul,” George pipes
up. “Everyone else does.”

Paul glances at Mr. Ervin. Something in his
voice is—off.

“
Paul,” he says, as if trying the
word on his lips for the very first time. He glances around the
arcade, then turns to George. “Is there a quiet place where we can
talk, George?”

“
Sure.” He leads them behind the
counter and shows them into his office. “Make yourself at home, Mr.
Singleton.”

As Paul crosses the threshold, George tries to
enter behind him, but Singleton is there, shutting the door in his
face. “If you don't mind, George, I'd like to speak to the boy
alone.”

“
Oh, sure, Mr. Singleton. Go right
ahead.” Mr. Ervin smiles, but the contrasting glare in his eyes
tell Paul that Mr. Ervin doesn’t appreciate being shut out of his
own office.

As Singleton turns to the boy, he pulls a
folded piece of paper from inside his jacket. “Paul, would you mind
signing this for me?''

“
What is it?” Paul is curious, but
wary too.

“
It's just a form saying that you
give us permission to use your name and likeness for advertisement
purposes. It's no big thing. Your parents don't even have to sign
it.” His big grin and the twinkle in his eye look genuine enough,
but Paul remembers the handshake—he still can’t quite figure out
what’s wrong with the man.

But why would Singleton want to harm him? They
don’t know each other and neither of them have given the other any
reason for discord. Maybe that’s what Singleton’s deal is—he’s a
businessman, accustomed to guarding company secrets behind a rough
facade. Or maybe he’s military. At any rate, Paul’s spent his
entire life doing well by his parents, and by God, this is his
moment to shine. Paul takes a pen off the desk and signs his name
where Singleton indicates at the bottom of the page.

“
Good boy,” says Singleton, patting
Paul on the shoulder. It sounds to Paul as if Singleton is talking
to a dog instead of a person, and just like that, he wishes he
could take the last three seconds of his life back—to un-sign the
form.

“
Now, of all the games in the
arcade, which of them would you like to have?”

Paul perks up. “You mean the rumors are
true?”

“
Of course they are,” Singleton
says. “I started them.”

Paul looks around at the office, “But…isn’t
this Mr. Ervin's place? Shouldn't
he
be asking me
this?”

“
Yes, Mr. Ervin owns the arcade,” He
sweeps a hand toward the wall, indicating the arcade beyond. “…but
my company is the one sponsoring the contest and has the majority
interest in the games. You won’t be taking an actual game from Mr.
Ervin—you’ll receive a new one straight from my
factory.”

“
Cool.”

“
Well? Which one?”

Paul looks away, thinking. “I'd really like the
one I was playing...”

Singleton cocks his head curiously,
“But?”

Paul says, “But…I've heard other rumors that
there are some better games in a basement somewhere on this block.
I've heard that they hire kids sometimes to test them out. Is this
true?”

The older man pauses, pondering his answer.
“Yes, Paul, there is such a place.”

“
Can I have one of the games there?
I mean, since you’re going to give me a new one anyway, why should
I be limited to the ones here?”

Singleton laughs. “Well, aren’t you the
entrepreneur?” He takes a seat in Mr. Ervin’s desk chair. “Most of
the machines there are near completion and ready to put into
arcades, so I don't see why you can't choose from those as well.
But it may take a couple extra weeks to get it to you.”

“
Oh, that's okay. I don't mind
waiting. I'd just like to see what's down there.”

“
There's just one thing I need you
to do first.”

“
Yes, sir.”
Anything
, Paul
thinks. He just want to see the new games.

“
I need you to sign a non-disclosure
agreement. You can’t discuss any of the details or ideas behind
those games, or even that you have knowledge that those games even
exist.”

“
Didn’t I just sign something like
that?”

“
Well, no actually. As I said, that
was a release form giving us permission to use your name and
likeness…uh…photograph, in our advertising campaigns. This form is
an agreement that you will not reveal any secrets about my gaming
technology.”

“
Sure,” Paul says, thinking,
what’s the worst that can happen
? “Where do I
sign?”

Evan Crowe watches helplessly as the hillside
erupts in flames. He’s not sure what Rob set off, but all hell
broke loose. A ball of fire engulfs his friend. Luckily, as soon as
the flames explode outward, the fire extinguishes itself—as if it
used all the oxygen and died, like a living thing. Crowe and the
others hit the dirt and wait a few beats before moving. He expected
gunfire, but none came.

“
Booby trap,” someone whispers
behind him. Evan shifts position so he can look to the rear. His
sergeant gives him a
go on
gesture. He doesn’t hesitate. He
scrambles up the hill to Rob’s still body. Still no gunfire, and
that’s a good thing. He leans over his friend, expecting the
worse.

Rob’s body is not a pretty sight. His left arm
is missing at the elbow. Most of his left leg is also gone. The
heat melted most of Rob’s skin on that side, the tender flesh
fusing with his uniform.
There’s no way he could have survived
that
, Crowe thinks, searching the side of Rob’s throat for a
pulse. He’s surprised at how little blood is on the ground. He
checks Rob’s wounds. The heat of the explosion may have blown off
his arm and leg, but it also cauterized the blood
vessels.

Dodger slides out from behind a tree and says,
“Come on man, that explosion’s goin’ to draw ‘em down on us
something fierce. We gotta’ get out of here.”

Crowe snaps at him, “We’re not leaving
him…alive or dead, he’s coming with us.”

Dodger snarls, “That’s all well and good but
none of us ‘er goin’ to be alive for very much longer if we don’t
high-tail-it out of here.”

“
Well quit yappin’ and give me a
hand.”

Dodger spits a stream of tobacco onto the
ground, slings his rifle over his shoulder, and helps Crowe
half-carry, half-drag Rob’s body down the slope and into the
valley. Sergeant Westborough approaches. He doesn’t say anything,
but the look on his face conveys his concern. “He’s alive,
Sergeant, but not for long. He needs medical assistance—and
quick.”

“
I’ve already called for e-vac. The
explosion jeopardized our mission and we’re being pulled out.” He
points to the south, deeper into the valley. “There’s a clearing a
half-mile away…that’s our pickup.”

Crowe grabs a handful of Rob’s uniform and
hauls him up. Dodger takes his leg and together, they carry him to
the evacuation site.

The basement is dark as pitch. The stale air
holds an acidic smell—an accumulation of dry rat urine and roach
droppings. However, when Singleton finds the breaker and flips on
the lights, the entire floor is surprisingly spotless, dry, and
clean as a whistle.

Paul expects to see a warehouse full of
games—mazes of them. Instead, a large sphere fills a quarter of the
room. The surface is milky white and semitransparent. Inside the
sphere is what looks like an airplane cockpit. A framework of small
metal beams surround the cockpit, like the skeleton of a giant
cube. Tiny, black projectors, fixed upon both the vertical and
horizontal beams, point inward, toward the sphere’s pale surface.
There appears to be dozens of cameras, each of them fixed on a
different section of the sphere.

The entire contraption sits on a two-foot tall
stage. Paul bends down to look underneath. Wires and cables spill
from the cockpit in the center. More cables snake to the metal
framework, supplying power and digital information to the
projectors. A set of hydraulic arms connect the stage to the
cockpit—he assumes the arms mimic motion.

“
What do you think?”

Paul jumps. He’s so engrossed that Singleton’s
voice startles him. “It's...it's...amazing,” he finally says, even
though he has no clue what the contraption is supposed to do. “What
is it?''

“
This is my baby,” Singleton says.
He runs a hand across the sphere’s smooth surface like a lover
caressing his partner. “This is the game to end all games. This is
the next evolution in high tech video games.” He turns a serious
glare toward Paul. “New video game systems are keeping kids at
home—and that is destroying the arcade industry. This…” he sweeps
his arm dramatically. “Is going to bring them back.”

Paul follows Singleton to the back of the game.
Affixed to the stage is a metal cabinet with computer monitor and
keyboard. Singleton pushes a power button below the monitor. The
screen flares to life and the word
upload
flashes across the
top. He pushes enter and a long menu appears. Paul looks over the
other man's shoulder and reads down the list.

“
Oohh...Choose the space
scenario!”

“
Okay.” Singleton scrolls to the
bottom of the list, hovers the cursor over the selection, and then
presses the enter key again.

Loading
flashes across the monitor. The
whole sphere lights up and the same word, projected in bright red
letters, scrolls around its surface.

“
This’ll take about five minutes,”
Singleton says as a quiet hum fills the room. He walks around the
sphere, admiring his creation. Paul trails a few steps behind
him—fairly certain the same look of awe is on his face.

A large bay door separates this room from
another, larger room. As they walk by, Paul glances into the other
room. “Hey,” he says. “You've got another one in there.” It’s dark,
but he can tell that the two machines are very similar. However,
the one in the other room looks twice as large.

“
Yes, that one's still in its
experimental stage. We still have a few bugs to work
out.”

Singleton stoops to point at the hydraulic arms
under the stage and moves the conversation away from the larger
game in the other room, “These are what make this game so lifelike.
These move the cockpit in sync with the rear-video projection. This
game is pretty much a flight simulator on acid.

“
You can do barrel rolls, loops,
engage in dogfights, just about anything a plane or spaceship can
do, you can do here.” He touches the sphere again. His hand blocks
the projection of the cameras and casts a shadow across the face of
the sphere in the shape of his hand. “Are you ready to try
it?”

“
Am I? You bet.”

Singleton leads him to a hidden door. The
hinges and locking mechanisms are all made of the same milky
material as the rest of the sphere. He opens it wide and Paul
doesn't hesitate—he storms in to examine the cockpit.

“
Now, you must wear the safety
harness, this thing will throw you around.”

Paul climbs inside and straps himself in. He
feels like he’s strapping himself into a metal cocoon. Singleton
steps up to the side, placing his hand on top of a stick rising up
between Paul’s knees. “This is the main control. Move it left, the
ship turns left. Move it right, it goes right—push it forward and
it dives—pull it toward you and it climbs. Easy enough?”

“
Sure. I’ve played flight simulators
before.”

“
Good,” Singleton says, then points
toward Paul’s feet. “Those pedals in the foot-well will bank the
craft—the same principle as the control stick—left foot banks
left—right banks right.”

Paul grabs the control stick—the molded plastic
fits his hand perfectly. At the top of the handle, near his thumb,
are two buttons. There’s also a trigger at the front under his
index finger. “The button on the left is target lock. Once you lock
on, slide your thumb over and hit the other button—that launches
your missiles.”

Rising out of the left armrest, like the letter
T, is a metal bar. He touches the polished surface. “That’s your
throttle control,” says Singleton.

“
What are these?” Paul asks,
indicating more buttons on the console. It’s obvious what the big
red button does—it has the word START printed on it in bold, black
letters. Above it are six orange buttons.

“
The top three are weapon selects
and the bottom three are craft modes. You can mess with those as
you play.”