Virtual Kombat (Pocket Money Puffin) Page 3

  I thank her and wander round the hall looking for a seat. The Ginger Ninja sees me and slides along his bench to make space. I take the invite.

  ‘I hear Kat-Ana gave you a haircut!’ he sniggers, slurping at his cherry-flavoured Synapse.

  ‘At least my eyeballs stayed in my head,’ I shoot back.

  Ginger Ninja laughs, rubbing his still-bloodshot eyes.

  ‘So how come she’s got a weapon?’ I ask quietly, nodding at Kat-Ana on the other side of our table.

  ‘It’s a Mod,’ he replies. ‘The more training sessions you do and Face-Offs you win, the more experience points you earn. With ’em you can purchase Mods and Power-Ups in the game. A samurai sword doesn’t come cheap, though. A lot of gameplay required.’

  ‘What other gear can you get?’

  Ginger Ninja grins devilishly. ‘Whatever your wicked heart desires! Got meself a set of exploding throwing stars. They do serious damage. I’ll show you if you’re up for a Face-Off.’

  ‘Sounds tempting,’ I say. Though I’m not so sure I want to experience my body parts being blown off, VK-style.

  Ginger Ninja cranes round to look at my tag.

  ‘What sort of avatar name is Scott, anyways?’

  ‘It’s my name,’ I reply, suddenly wishing I’d thought of a decent tag.

  Kat-Ana looks up. ‘It’s good to keep a handle on reality. Spend too long in the game and you soon forget what’s real.’

  ‘So what’s your name?’

  She smiles at me. ‘Kate.’

  I turn to the Ginger Ninja. ‘And yours?’

  ‘I need no other name,’ replies Ginger Ninja, pointing at his carrot top then executing a karate chop in mid-air.

  Kate rolls her eyes. ‘See what I mean? Bet he doesn’t even remember.’

  Ginger Ninja ignores her and takes another slurp of Synapse.

  ‘So, Kate, what’s the deal here?’ I ask. ‘Test a few games and we get fed and housed?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  I look round at the hundreds of other kids tucking into their food. ‘All this seems too good to be true. What’s the catch?’

  ‘Haven’t found it yet.’

  ‘But why so many testers?’

  ‘Who cares?’ says Ginger Ninja, forking more syn-fish into his mouth. ‘As long as I’m fed, I’ll play. It beats the streets any day.’

  Kate picks up her tray. ‘I’ll show you where to dump this.’

  I follow her to the recycling zone.

  Glancing round, Kate waits for a stern-faced guardian to pass by. Then, leaning in close, whispers, ‘There is a catch. VK’s addictive. Dangerously so.’

  ‘So why are you still playing?’ I ask, all of a sudden getting the feeling we’re being watched.

  ‘You’ve got to play the game to get out.’

  As the guardian strides over, Kate drops her tray down the chute.

  ‘My advice. Never forget who you are.’

  Trigger Time

  The Analyst wordlessly hands me my training report.

  Performance: 5 out of 10.

  Bruiser, a Brazilian capoeira fighter, destroyed me in the last Face-Off. My back still aches from where he power-kicked me.

  After two months of gameplay, I’ve climbed into the upper ranks of the League. But now I’m struggling to keep my position. Even with a Mod and a Power-Up. A pair of Kevlar armguards that block any blade. And a single-use Mega-Punch – trebling the damage I inflict for one strike.

  Not that it helped much against Bruiser. Like Kat-Ana, he moves too fast for me to land it.

  ‘What’s up?’ asks Ginger Ninja as I enter the Chill Zone and flop on a beanbag next to him and Kate.

  ‘However hard I try, I keep getting beat to the Killing Strike,’ I admit.

  Kate looks up from her avatar fashion e-mag. ‘Your skills are good,’ she says. ‘But you need to master Trigger Time.’

  I frown at her. ‘That’s not in my feedback.’

  ‘That’s cos the Analysts don’t know about it. It’s not an official technique. Come on, I’ll show you.’

  ‘Hey, you promised to teach me!’ complains Ginger Ninja.

  ‘You’re not ready for it,’ replies Kate, heading for the door.

  My body protests at leaving the beanbag. Gaming for three hours straight, my brain aches like a strained muscle. VK’s a serious workout. Your mind believes the body’s done all that fighting. By the end of the first week, it felt like I’d run a marathon then been mashed by a runaway MPV.

  Even now I’m brain-fit, VK’s still a drain. But I can’t resist. I’m hooked.

  We enter the Training Zone. No Analysts at the control module.

  ‘Downtime,’ explains Kate. ‘We can still log on, though.’

  She presses a touchscreen and two PlayPod doors open.

  ‘What’s behind here?’ I ask, checking out the restricted-access door.

  ‘The guardians don’t like it when you snoop around.’

  ‘It might lead outside.’

  ‘Curiosity killed the rat,’ she says as I try the handle.

  ‘You mean, cat.’

  ‘Cat, rat, whatever,’ she says. ‘When you VK loads, words get jumbled up.’

  ‘It’s locked anyway.’

  We clamber into our PlayPods and boot up.

  A shooting-range Battle-rena blinks into life, complete with armoury. Kat-Ana’s standing beside me.

  ‘Take this,’ she says, passing me a handgun.

  Kat-Ana walks to the end of the range. ‘Shoot me.’

  I hesitantly raise the gun. I know it’s only virtual, but it feels wrong.

  ‘Won’t it hurt pretty bad?’

  ‘Do it!’

  I pull the trigger. BANG. With lightning speed, Kat-Ana bends to one side, her body flickering as the bullet penetrates the target behind.

  ‘But that’s impossible!’

  ‘Not in VK. This is a computer-generated world implanted in your head. It’s only impossible because that’s what you believe.’

  Kat-Ana hands me a suit of Kevlar armour. ‘Put this on, or else you’ll feel beat up when we finish.’

  ‘You’re going to shoot me?’

  She nods. ‘To master Trigger Time, your brain has to function quicker than the game can download into your head.’

  ‘Sounds tricky,’ I reply as Kat-Ana makes me stand before the target.

  ‘It is. But by concentrating hard enough, you can bend the rules of the game. Slow down virtual time.’

  She takes aim at me. ‘Think of it like intense meditation. Focus on the gun, my every movement. See it all. Even before it happens.’

  I’m sweating now. The barrel pointed at my chest. ‘But how will I know if I’m getting it right?’

  ‘Your opponent appears to attack in slow-mo. But you don’t. That’s when you can evade or land any strike.’

  She fires.

  I don’t even see the bullet. But I feel the heavy slug impact against my chest. I get blown off my feet.

  ‘Concentrate!’ says Kat-Ana, reloading.

  Rubbing my bruised ribs, I get back up and focus on her movements. Kat-Ana raises the gun and takes aim. She seems slower this time. But that could be my imagination.

  BANG. Like a battering-ram, the bullet catches my side and spins me round.

  ‘Better,’ she says. ‘At least you moved this time.’

  The pain makes me even more determined. I centre my mind on her. Breaking down her every movement. Hand rising. Finger on trigger. Squeezing of muscle. Click of ignition. Flare of barrel. A low, long, rumbling bang. The bullet exiting. Flying through the air. I shift to one side. Watch the slug pass me by. Pierce the target.

  Like a thunderclap, time catches up. Sound and vision compressing back to normality.

  ‘Congratulations!’ calls Kat-Ana. ‘Now you’ve done it once, the technique will be much easier next time.’

  Kat-Ana presses her ESCAPE button and disappears.

  The Battle-rena blinks out.
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  As we head back to dinner, I ask, ‘It’s a neat trick, but what if everyone’s using Trigger Time?’

  ‘You can’t keep it up for more than a few seconds. Creates too much brain strain. So pick your moments.’

  ‘But now I know it, aren’t you worried I’ll beat you?’

  ‘You won’t get the chance,’ replies Kate, grinning. ‘I’m one Face-Off from becoming an Elite Gamer. When I win, I’ll be top of the League. Then I’m out of here. Special Projects! VK for real. The Crown. Fame and fortune, baby. Fame and fortune.’

  My mouth drops open.

  Standing in the refectory queue is Shark.

  Blaze ’n’ Burn

  I’m backed into a corner.

  Shark advances on me, fists raised. I dodge the jab. Counter with a hook punch. His head rocks with the blow but he keeps up his attack, kneeing me in the stomach.

  Gasping for breath, I barely avoid his axe-kick. His heel passes my head and slams into the floor, shattering the tiles.

  I kick him hard in the chest. He flies backwards into the wall. Giving him no time to recover, I bear down on him. Determined to finish the fight.

  From out of nowhere, Shark pulls a Blazer.

  ‘Blaze ’n’ burn time!’ he sneers.

  The pulse-blade slashes across my chest. I jump back, but its laser edge rips through my skin. Crimson splashes of red streak the floor as blood pours from the wound.

  Gloating, Shark then rams the Blazer into me. I try to block, but it’s too late. I feel the burn as the pulse-blade enters my stomach and grimace in pain as he twists it.

  ‘That’s for making me suffer another two months on those stinking streets!’

  Pulling the pulse-blade out, I can only watch as he goes for the Killing Strike.

  He raises the Blazer, his face contorted with fury. The pulse-blade glows orange in the eco-light, its laser arcing towards my neck.

  Concentrating hard, I see it all in slow-mo.

  With the last of my energy, I roll to the side, Power Up and use my Mega-Punch. My fist catches him square on the temple. His eyes spin in his head like a slot machine. I’ve hit the jackpot.

  ‘KILLING STRIKE!’ booms the VK ringmaster.

  The Battle-rena shrinks to a dot and blinks out.

  Emerging from my PlayPod, my stomach throbs where the virtual blade cut into me. But it soon fades beneath the glorious high of my win. I also buzz from my first kombat use of Trigger Time. It’s taken me two weeks of constant practice to perfect it.

  Shark exits, holding his head in his hands. The loser. No addictive kick of endorphins for him.

  As we approach the Analysts for our feedback, he narrows his eyes and spits in my face.

  ‘I don’t know how you beat me. But I’ll blaze you for real one of these days.’

  Missing In Action

  ‘Have you seen Kate?’ I ask.

  Ginger Ninja barely looks away from the refectory’s vuescreen. It’s VK Primetime. Destroid’s climbed another place. And to my dismay, he’s just annihilated the Korean taekwondo fighter, Spider.

  ‘Nah,’ says Ginger Ninja, stuffing a Zing bar into his mouth. ‘Not since she went training for tomorrow’s Face-Off.’

  I head down to the Training Zone, but she’s not plugged in. Must have got an early night.

  Kate’s still not around at breakfast. That worries me. I check out the dorms, the Training Zone and lastly the Chill Zone.

  ‘Anyone seen Kate?’

  I’m met with blank looks.

  ‘Kat-Ana?’ I repeat, irritated with their indifference.

  Shark flashes his razor grin at me. ‘Lost your girlfriend?’

  ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ I snap. ‘What you got to smile about anyway?’

  ‘Nothing,’ replies Shark, a sly look in his eyes.

  ‘I think Kat-Ana qualified as an Elite Gamer,’ pipes up Vixen, pointing to the leaderboard.

  Kate’s tag is no longer listed.

  ‘Did you see the final Face-Off?’

  Vixen shakes her head.

  ‘Who fought her? Did anyone see it?’

  I’m greeted with apathetic silence. Kate’s missing in action and no one cares. They’re all too zoned-out with VK. Granted, a lot of kid kombatants pass through the system. But something’s wrong here. Final Face-Offs always draw a crowd in the Chill Zone.

  ‘Won’t she have gone to Special Projects?’ suggests Vixen.

  ‘But she’d have told me.’

  ‘That’s girls for you!’ tuts Ginger Ninja, rolling his eyes.

  The guardians’ sole response to my questioning about Kat-Ana’s sudden disappearance is ‘Qualified’. Even the friendly one in the kitchen was no help.

  Maybe I’m being paranoid. I just thought we were friends. That she’d at least say goodbye.

  Watching VK Primetime over the following days, I keep a hopeful eye out for Kat-Ana in the Grand-Arena League. But her tag doesn’t appear.

  ‘Hey, Scott,’ whispers Vixen as we line up for dinner a week later. ‘I hear Shark has it in for you.’

  I nod cautiously.

  ‘Rumour is, he’s somehow got himself a Blazer. I’d watch your back.’

  I park myself beside Ginger Ninja, but no longer feel like eating. Shark’s sitting three tables over, carving his syn-beef and veg.

  Blaze ’n’ burn.

  It’s only a matter of time. I can’t avoid him forever.

  I have to get out.

  But how? The guardians ensure no one leaves the building.

  The orphanage is starting to feel more like a prison than a sanctuary.

  Kate said the only way out is through the game. Seems, for the second time, my very life depends upon it.

  Elite Gamer

  ‘Congratulations,’ says the Analyst without enthusiasm. ‘Top of the League. You’ve qualified as an Elite Gamer.’

  I want to jump for joy. But I’m too exhausted.

  Three weeks of solid VK has paid off, though. I’m going through to Special Projects. Maybe I’ll find out what happened to Kate.

  Whatever, it’s a relief after playing cat-and-mouse with Shark every day. Avoiding him at all costs. Training every hour. Sticking to the crowded refectory and Chill Zone. Never alone. Though I’m not in his dorm, even at night I have to keep sharp.

  Hard going, when my brain’s so mashed with gameplay I can barely remember who I am.

  I head to the showers to freshen up before dinner.

  As I’m getting changed into a clean kombat suit, I hear an ominous buzz. The orange glow of a pulsating Blazer reflects off the lockers.

  Glancing round, I find the changing room’s suddenly deserted.

  Then Shark appears.

  ‘No more games,’ he hisses. ‘This blazing’s for real.’

  I back towards the showers. There’s only one way out. And Shark’s between me and the exit.

  Grabbing my towel, I wrap it round my hand. It may give me a precious second or two to disarm him, before the pulse-blade burns through my fingers.

  Shark goes to blaze me, when a swoosh alerts us to an opening door. Hurriedly switching off the Blazer, he pockets the weapon.

  ‘Scott!’ barks a guardian. ‘Special Projects. Follow me.’

  I push past Shark, who’s silently fuming. He’s missed his final opportunity to blaze ’n’ burn me.

  I’m out of here.

  As I’m led down the corridor, I spot Vixen in the Chill Zone and give her a wave. I’ve no one else to say goodbye to. Without Kat-Ana in the League, Ginger Ninja finally qualified as an Elite Gamer the week before, defeating Bruiser in his last Face-Off.

  The guardian leads me into the Training Zone.

  Door 1 is open, the PlayPod primed, an Analyst by its side.

  ‘Is this Special Projects?’ I ask, somewhat confused as he gets ready to plug me in.

  The Analyst nods and straps me down.

  ‘But isn’t it at a different site?’

  I’m concerned Shark
might get another chance to blaze me.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says the Analyst. ‘You’re not coming back.’

  Before I can protest, the Hoody slips down.

  A jolt of light. A gliding sensation.

  I boot into a ferocious Battle-rena.

  No Escape

  The castle courtyard is overrun with kombat-ants. Fighting tooth and nail against one another, blood flowing across the stone cobbles. It’s carnage.

  Multiplayer kombat. Just like Primetime VK, where players plug in from around the world to fight for the Crown.

  A samurai swordsman charges at me.

  I block his katana blade with my armguard. Then front-kick him in the chest. As he clambers to his feet, I catch him with a spinning hook-kick across the jaw. He makes a desperate swing with his sword, but my vertical fist punch to the head finishes him off. His life-bar blinks out.

  The victory gives me a much-needed boost.

  Then a fearsome Maori warrior jumps from the battlements, roaring. His face is a swirl of black tattoos and, in his hand, he carries a great barbed spear.

  His roaring battle chant sends a chill through my body.

  Pounding his chest and snarling at me, he advances.

  I power-kick him in the gut, but it has zero effect. A great slab of a fist smashes me in the face, breaking my nose. My life-bar reads 80%.

  My head rings with pain and my vision flashes red.

  The warrior knees me hard in the side. I feel a rib crack. Pain shooting through me. 65%.

  Stumbling over the samurai’s lifeless body, I fall to the ground. The Maori warrior drives his spear into my stomach. I scream. The agony’s overpowering.

  What’s happened to the Pain Threshold Limiter? The game never felt this bad before. Never this real.

  My life-bar drops to 50%.

  It’s like I’m dying. 45%.

  I stab furiously at the ESCAPE button on my belt. 40%.

  Nothing happens.

  The pain intensifies as the warrior pulls out the spear. 35%.

  In a last desperate attempt, I crawl away.

  But the Maori warrior grabs me by my ankle and flings me into the castle wall. 25%.

  The pain rises in my head, like a searing fireball.