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  Entering the Forest, with its thick foliage, thingsgrew darker still. Zyra kept a close eye on Tee as he led on.

  ***

  It felt as though they had been walking for ages,although neither Tark nor Zyra knew exactly how long. They were finding it difficult to gauge the passage of time. Since they no longer participated in the game, they had noticed that there was no regular pattern of night and day, and the sun in the sky could be anywhere at anytime. Not that they could even see the sky at the moment, with the thick canopy of trees blocking their view. Tee insisted on staying off the paths, so they had been fighting their way through dense vegetation.

  It was a great relief when the Forest suddenly gave way to barren, rocky ground, which extended into mountains. At the base of the mountains, amidst the massive boulders, they could see a dark opening. That was where Tee was taking them.

  As they approached, Tee motioned for them to stop. He unclipped a device from his belt. It made a musical chirruping sound when he flipped it open. He twisted a dial and lifted it to his face.

  ‘Tee here. Let us in,’ he said into the device. A muffied voice answered.

  Tee clicked it closed and hooked it back onto his belt. The air in front of the cave entrance shimmered briefly.

  ‘Force-field,’ explained Tee as he led them to the mouth of the cave. ‘Keeps the VIs out. Always be careful. Touching the field feels like having a pile of rocks dropped on your head.’

  They entered the darkness and walked alongthe rocky passageway. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, Tark and Zyra noticed tunnels and alcoves branching off in all directions. Continuing, they realised they were heading for a dead-end. Zyra glanced nervously at Tark.

  ‘No need to worry,’ Tee assured them.

  He placed his palm against the rocky wall. Light flared beneath it and the wall melted away, revealing another passage. This time the walls were lined with sconces, each supporting a softly glowing orb.

  ‘Magik,’ breathed Zyra.

  ‘Rechargeable batteries, actually,’ corrected Tee. He looked back at Zyra. ‘You can take the patch off now. You’re quite safe in here.’ He continued along the passage.

  Zyra yanked her patch off and winced. Why did everything have to hurt? Dropping it to the ground, she glanced at Tark as he peeled the patch off his wrist.

  Tee led them down the passage, through an opening and into a spacious cavern lit by large orbs hanging from stalactites. The area was filled with a mishmash of furniture, equipment and people. Tark and Zyra looked in wonder. A group of people sat on a circle of chairs and sofas in the centre of the area, deep in conversation. There was a makeshift kitchen under a rocky outcrop to their left, with a vaguely familiar man in a chef’s hat bustling about, preparing food. Crates of food and drink were stacked to either side of the kitchen, forming improvised walls. To the right of the cavern was a target range with a rack of crossbows attached to the wall. A couple of younger teenagers were practising, their bolts thudding into the bullseye.

  Zyra placed her pack on the ground. Tark’sdropped with a clatter of weaponry. Conversations stopped, activities ceased, as heads lifted and eyes stared.

  ‘We refer to this as our common room,’ said Tee placing his pack on the ground. He stepped forward, spread his arms and turned full circle. ‘Welcome to my world. The world of Outers.’

  Some of the Outers smiled, some frowned. One young man raised a hand and waved. And then they all returned to what they had been doing.

  Tee pointed to three openings in the far wall.

  ‘That one leads to the sleeping quarters, that one to the storage areas, and that one ...’ He paused as a strange-looking man in a white coat emerged. ‘That leads to Research.’

  The new arrival laughed and clapped his hands, then hurried towards them, his frizzy grey hair wafting about as he walked. He was very short and wore thick glasses reminiscent of goggles.

  ‘Hello, hello, hello, hello. Welcome, welcome.’ He stared at Tark and Zyra, looking them up and down carefully, his eyes darting about behind the lenses. ‘So very, very, very nice to meet you. Very nice, indeed. Indeed.’ He ran his fingers along his neat goatee and looked at Tee expectantly.

  ‘Tark and Zyra, this is Professor Palimpsest.’

  The professor clicked his heels and inclined his head.

  ‘Please, please, just call me Professor,’ he said eagerly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. ‘Indeed, yes. Just, Professor.’ He turned to Tee.

  ‘And I have made progress. Yes, yes indeed. Yes,indeed, I have. The project progresses. When you have a moment, we should talk. Yes, yes we should. Indeed. When you have a moment. Yes.’

  ‘I’m afraid that will have to wait,’ said Tee. ‘I have a lot to discuss with Tark and Zyra.’

  ‘Of course, of course.’ The professor backed away.

  ‘Indeed. Tark. Zyra. Yes. Much to discuss. Indeed. I shall leave you to it, then. Ja, ja ... I mean, yes, yes.’ And with that, he turned and walked back through the opening that led to Research.

  ‘Weirdo,’ breathed Tark, glancing at Zyra.

  ‘He is actually rather brilliant,’ said Tee. ‘I don’t know what we’d do without him. He designed and built the force-field that protects us. He adapted the medical patches, allowing us to move about undetected by the VIs. It was he who discovered that bolts tipped with Interface static could be used against the VIs. And now, he is working on an even greater project. Something that will hopefully shift the balance of power in our favour.’

  ‘He talks weird,’ said Tark.

  ‘lnd what? You don’t?’ Tee looked sternly at Tark.

  ‘Each of us has been programmed with certain stereotypical speech patterns. All the scientists have unusual speech patterns, with odd accents. He tries to overcome it. But when he was in the game, he never used Designers Paradise and he never had an avatar, so he never experienced speaking in any other way. It is difficult for him.’ Tee stared at Tark for a moment, and Zyra again marvelled at their similarities. ‘Unlike us, who have had avatars, who have spoken in different ways. All thievers speak the gutter speak, like you. Like I used to. But I overcame the programming. I now speak how I wish to speak.’

  ‘Woteva,’ said Tark, looking away.

  ‘Both of you,’ Tee continued, ‘can stop the gutter speak. You just need to try. You need to want to.’

  ‘Wot’s in there?’ asked Zyra, hoping to change the subject. She pointed to a small opening in the cavern wall by the kitchen.

  ‘lh,’ said Tee, walking towards the opening. ‘That one, and others like it, lead to nothing.’

  ‘Huh?’ said Tark.

  ‘Take a look,’ suggested Tee, leading them to the alcove.

  Tark and Zyra could see the static nothingness ofthe Interface glowing in the darkness.

  ‘Designers Paradise,’ said Tark.

  Tee pointed at the static. ‘The Interface between the environments. These caves are right on the edge of our game environment, of what the people here call the World. It’s just a peripheral place. No active play happens here, so things aren’t always fully formed. There are passages that lead to the Interface. There are unstable areas.’

  ‘So you can goes into the other places?’ said Zyra.

  ‘Like Suburbia?’

  ‘No.’ Tee shook his head. ‘You can’t enter another environment without a key and payment. And you have to go through the whole process of getting a path from an Oracle and making your way to Designers Paradise. We are no longer part of the game, so we cannot do that. If one of us were to enter the Interface, we would be stranded there until

  ... until eventually absorbed.’

  ‘Isn’t its a bits dangerous bein’ ‘ere then?’ asked

  Zyra.

  ‘The force-field shields each of these unstable sp
ots,’ explained Tee. ‘We need them. We use these unstable spots for static to tip our weapons and adapt our patches. And this area is not used in the game, which is why we have been able to set it up as a base.’ Tark sighed and shook his head slowly.

  ‘I know it’s a lot to take in,’ said Tee. ‘And there’s still a lot more I have to tell you.’ He looked from Tark to Zyra. ‘A lot more.’

  Zyra yawned, which set Tark off as well.

  ‘Perhaps you should rest first,’ Tee said, noticing for the first time how tired they both looked. ‘How long has it been since you slept?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Tark shrugged.

  ‘Of course.’ Tee nodded knowingly. ‘When you first stop playing, it can be quite disorientating. We don’t have a regular passage of time in the World. Night only happens when it’s needed for the game. We have clocks and calendars here to help us keep track of hours, days, months ... years.’ He pointed up to the far wall, where a digital clock showed 14:04. ‘We have regular sleep periods and meal timesto help maintain health and -’ He stopped, looking at Tark and Zyra. ‘And now I think I should be quiet and show you to your rooms.’ He paused and smiled.

  ‘Actually, one room with two beds.’ He headed off.

  ‘Follow me.’

  5: Familiar Faces

  Tark and Zyra were following Tee again, yawning and stretching but feeling much refreshed for having slept in comfortable beds.

  ‘I trust you slept well,’ said Tee. He no longer wore his cloak. He was now in a simple pair of brown leggings and tunic, with black boots - much like Tark’s outfit, only better fitting and in better condition. ‘We can continue our little talk while you have something to eat. There is still so much to tell you.’

  Tee led them back to the common room and towards the kitchen, where groups of Outers were eating at several long trestle tables.

  ‘We have a Zyra,’ called an excited voice from one of the tables. ‘At last!’

  Tark and Zyra stared, mouths agape.

  ‘I don’t believes it,’ said Zyra.

  ‘Wot’s with ya?’ said Tark, stalking forward. ‘Is ya followin’ us everywheres?’

  The boy with golden hair stood up, glaring at them. He looked taller, older and a little slimmer, with a much shorter haircut - but he was definitely Princeling Galbrath.

  ‘I am most certainly not following you,’ said the princeling, as he approached them.

  ‘This snotling gaves us heaps of trouble in thegame,’ Zyra explained to Tee.

  ‘We’re not in the game now,’ said the princeling, shaking his head. ‘And I’m not a snotling or a princeling or any other sort of -ing, anymore. You can call me Gal.’ He extended a hand, but Tark and Zyra both ignored the offer. He let his hand drop.

  ‘I’ve been here amongst the Outers for about ... oh

  ... must be at least three years.’

  ‘I don’t gets it,’ said Zyra, looking at Tee. ‘How coulds he ‘ave been ‘ere that long? It’s only been ...’ She struggled to think just how long it had been. ‘It’s only been a little while since we wuz in the game with ‘im.’

  ‘And how comes he looks different?’ added Tark.

  ‘Well,’ said Tee, ‘this is one of the things I have yet to explain to you. You might want to sit down for this.’

  Tee indicated the stools standing by the breakfast bar in the kitchen. As he led them away, Gal watched their backs for some time before returning to his dinner.

  Tark and Zyra sat down. The strangely familiar chef brought each of them an orange juice and a bowl of soup, and then returned to the large pot that bubbled away on the stove. Zyra stared after him, trying to recall where she had seen that chubby face.

  ‘Okay,’ said Tee, leaning up against the bar.

  ‘This is going to be a little difficult to explain.’ He ran a hand across his tired eyes. ‘In the Designers’ game there are what we call ‘essential characters’. Characters who are important to the way the game develops. Characters who can make decisions. And if any of these characters ever make the decision to not play, they are replaced.’

  Tark nodded, took a sip of his drink, and then looked up at Tee. ‘I don’t gets it.’

  ‘About three years ago, Princeling Galbrathdecided to break the rules of the Designers because he no longer wished to play their game. He became an Outer. No longer part of the game; no longer able to interact with anyone or anything in the game; able to grow older; etcetera, etcetera. Okay so far?’

  ‘Yeah,’ answered Tark and Zyra.

  Tee continued. ‘As soon as he became an Outer, the Designers replaced him with a new Princeling Galbrath - a Princeling Galbrath who would remain fourteen and continue to play the game. Unless, of course, he too, one day, becomes an Outer. Then he will be replaced again.’

  ‘That’s dumb,’ said Zyra.

  ‘That is the will of the Designers,’ said Tee.

  ‘Hangs on a tick,’ said Tark. ‘I thoughts the

  Designers wuz no longer on the scene. I thoughts it wuz the Maintainers who ran things now.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Tee. ‘So you’ve met the Maintainers. I’m afraid that they too are just characters and their control centre just another game environment.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Tark.

  ‘I’d figured that out for meself,’ said Zyra, raising her eyes to the rocky ceiling.

  ‘Oh,’ said Tark again, running a hand through his hair.

  ‘Is that whys he looks familiar?’ asked Zyra, pointing to the chef

  The chubby man turned from the pot on the stove and beamed at them. ‘I used to be the Skinny Rich Dude who lived up the Hill. You can call me Chuck.’ He walked over to shake hands with Tark and Zyra.

  ‘But you is not skinny,’ said Tark.

  ‘You can put on a fair bit of weight in fourteen months.’ Chuck patted his stomach. ‘My being skinny was programmed into me as part of the game. It was one of the rules. I was only allowed to eat a small ration every twelve hours. I was always so damn hungry. But now that I’m an Outer, I can eat however much I want and whatever I want, anytime I want!’

  ‘Is that whys ya left the game?’ asked Zyra. ‘Did ya wants ta eats more?’

  ‘No,’ said Chuck, looking away. ‘It was because of

  Fido.’

  ‘Fido?’ asked Tark.

  ‘My dog.’

  ‘Ya means that furry robot thing that used ta guard yar safe?’ asked Zyra.

  Chuck nodded silendy.

  ‘It’s been ages since I seen it,’ said Zyra.

  ‘He was killed.’ Chuck’s voice cracked a litde.

  ‘Every time you, or any other player, stole a key from me, you’d slip past Fido, or distract him. A couple of times you even found his off switch. But that last time.’ He choked up momentarily, then swallowed hard. ‘You brought a laser.’

  ‘Oh.’ Zyra looked a litde dismayed.

  ‘When I found him,’ Chuck went on. ‘There was no way I could put him back together. And he wasn’t an essential character.’

  ‘I ... I is sorry,’ said Zyra. ‘I is not sure I even really remember it all thats well.’

  ‘Oh.’ Chuck waved his hand. ‘It’s okay. You were just playing the game. You had no idea what he meant to me.’ He sighed, deep and heavy, and turned to face Zyra again. ‘I didn’t even pick up the pieces. I just went straight to the kitchen and hinged on whatever food I could find. And so, I became an Outer.’ He smiled half-heartedly. ‘Excuse me now, I need to get back to the soup.’

  Chuck turned and shuffied back to the stove,whispering, ‘I still miss him.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Zyra, looking Tee in the eyes.

  ‘I know,’ he answered. ‘You were playing the game. You weren’t programmed to think about the people you stole from, or the
consequences your actions would have. You were doing what you had been designed to do.’

  ‘So,’ said Tark. ‘Does this means there is anotherone of me out there?’

  ‘And me?’ asked Zyra.

  ‘Yes,’ Tee answered.

  ‘I wanna see ‘em!’ demanded Tark. ‘Rights now!’ Tee looked thoughtfully at them, running a hand along his beard. ‘All right. If we’re going to head out,we need to get you some weapons first.’

  6: Tark and Zyra

  Tark and Zyra watched in dumbfounded silence as Tark and Zyra planned their next robberies. The new Tark had acquired a hellfire-spear, its tip alight with a flickering blue flame, and was intending to use it to kill a dragon and win its stash of gold. The new Zyra had stolen a Designers Paradise key from the Skinny Rich Dude who lived up the Hill, and was now intending to steal another from the Cracker.

  ‘Seen enough?’ asked Tee, sitting on one of the steps leading down to the basement hideout.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Tark at the same time that Zyra said,

  ‘No.’

  ‘Looks at her,’ said Zyra. ‘Looks at her face. It’s me! Except that she ain’t got no pimples. And her hair is stickin’ up like it’s meant ta.’ She turned to look at Tee. ‘And she ain’t gonna gets older, is she? She’ll be perfect forevers.’

  ‘For as long as she plays,’ replied Tee. ‘But she’s trapped. Trapped in patterns of behaviour and speech. Trapped in an endless, repeating quest. Trapped by rules that stop her from getting what she really wants.’

  Zyra resumed her surveillance, absently running her fingers across the pimples on her cheek.

  ‘Is all of that really worth eternal youth?’ asked

  Tee.

  Zyra shrugged.

  The new Zyra threatened the new Tark with her knives, and then turned her back on him. He stood staring at her, a pained look in his eyes.

  Tark watched himself watching Zyra, recognising the longing in his own eyes.

  ‘I’ve hads enough,’ said Tark. ‘Let’s gets outtahere.’