Chapter 4: Game
School was a bigger waste than usual. I couldn’t focus on any subjects. My mind kept racing to the footage I had seen yesterday. Faked! The crime scene footage wasn’t real, and now Lou was going to serve time for something he didn’t do. What if other sentences were set the same way? What if other people were being charged for crimes they didn’t commit? All of a sudden, our safe society looked like a lie.
“Ouch!” My tablet went flying as I walked straight into Lacey.
“Where’s your head today, girlfriend? You look like you’re a thousand miles away.” Lacey smiled at me as she helped pick up my stuff. As I put the tablet back in my pack, a question crossed my mind.
“What if you could help someone but it’d get you in a lot of trouble?” I asked.
“That’s easy — unless she’s your best friend, you do nothing. Look after yourself. It’s not worth the trouble.” We started walking down the hallway towards the main sports field.
“So, except for you, I should keep my mouth shut?”
“Exactly. Why rock the boat? Hey, is this something to do with Mr. Stewart’s class?”
“Maybe,” I answered coyly, deciding it was better to deflect the conversation. “Where we heading?” I’d noticed that most students were walking in the same direction.
“You know,” Lacey answered as if I was pretending to forget, “it’s time for the re-enactment!”
I cringed. Every month, our school faced another school in the aftermath of the great earthquake, simulating the attack by the terrorists that blew up the power plant, sending the city into darkness. Each school fielded a team. One had to be the terrorists and the other was the citizens fighting back. No one enjoyed being the terrorists but everyone had to take their turn. It was a true school activity because unlike most sports, where only a few elite athletes got to play and the majority watched, in the re-enactment we all could be participants. Teams could be as large as an entire school, and spectators were the participants who were knocked out of the game.
“Come on, let’s head to the game grid.” Lacey grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. We entered into main field, the length of a city block, and a covered huge transparent dome. Bad weather never cancelled one of these games. In the distance I could see hundreds of participants from the opposing school.
“Who are we playing against?”
“Not sure, but I know we’re home team.”
Home team meant that our school played the role of the city while the visitors played the role of the terrorists. No school liked to play the role of the terrorists and usually that meant not a lot of players would come from the other school. Most times the home team had a two on one advantage. Today didn’t look much different. I recognized most of the people from my class. Many were stretching and talking strategy. A few had changed into more comfortable running attire and a few girls were still wearing heels, which would put them at an extreme disadvantage. I looked to my right and saw a familiar face.
“Austin!” I yelled. He turned and looked at me. From the distance I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me again but he walked over.
“How do you know him?” Lacey giggled.
“I met him at the Marks, he helped me find a vendor.”
“Well introduce me — he looks like a bargain.” As Austin stepped up to us, Lacey intercepted him.
“Hi I’m Lacey, Pene’s best friend. Have any buddies that you want to introduce me to?” She winked at Austin, who warily regarded her.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Austin.” He turned and looked at me. “Are you two competing? I’d hate to hear any excuses after we beat you,” he said confidently. Lacey made a face.
“Why would you want to beat the good people of the city?” she mocked as if repeating one of Mr. Stewart’s classes.
Austin rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you listen to all the propaganda about the terrorists?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, not understanding his comment.
“Please.” Austin blew out a burst of air, looking incredulously at me. “Don’t believe everything your teachers tell you about the great earthquake.” He leaned closer to both of us, and his voice wasn’t much louder than a whisper. “I’ve heard a much different story where the government caused the earthquake and created the terrorists as scapegoats.”
“Seriously. You’re telling me that the Ministry of Justice made all of this up. Who believes that?” Lacey said, her demeanor changing to disbelief, but she kept her voice down. None of us wanted to be recorded by a drone.
“I do. They used the earthquake to push through the security legislation. Don’t you think it’s convenient that everything became so safe once the M-O-J took charge?”
“Say something, Pene, he’s calling your father a liar.” Lacey nudged me while waiting for an answer. I was perplexed. A week ago I would have yelled back at Austin, telling him to keep his lies to himself. Instead, all I could think of was the fake footage of Lou. Maybe what he was claiming wasn’t so farfetched.
“Ha. Nothing to say. That’s answer enough.” Austin dismissed us as he headed back to his school. “See you on the field.” He pointed and gave me a mischievous grin that made me want to wipe it off his face.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Pene? Don’t tell me you like him?” Lacey screwed up her face.
“No!” I answered a little too strongly. “Let’s line up, the game is about to start.” I ushered her over to a line of classmates putting on their headgear. We stood behind them until an equipment manager handed us our crowns. They fit snugly over the top of our heads, with a mouthpiece trailing down from our left ear. They were lightweight and you barely noticed them once the game began. Over my head on one of the bars was a kill switch. If I was hurt or needed to leave the game at any time, I just had to tap it.
The re-enactment was virtual reality but played very specific parts in our city’s history. The crown stimulated electronic images to the brain that superseded the images seen by your eyes. You could be in a classroom but your eyes didn’t send images of the room to your brain; the process was reversed. The images fooled the brain into thinking it was someplace else. Computers generated a three-dimensional environment for you move around in and interact with. It was fully immersive, and you could see yourself and others in the game. The technology evolved from multiplayer shooter games where people played in clunky computer-generated environments. Now the environments were so real, you swore you were there.
Although it was playing back a specific part of history, you could interact with the computer-generated participants or other players. Although you couldn’t change history, you could change a specific chain of events. So if a building was destined to explode, you couldn’t change the event, but you might be able to rescue different people each time you played. The thing that blew a lot of people’s minds (especially adults) was that people you interacted with seemed real. If you touched their arm, you felt the sensation of touching skin. I didn’t understand the process, but somehow neurons in your brain were being fired to complete the illusion.
Your environment also felt real to your touch, from the ground under your feet to the solidness of walls. When the wind blew, you could feel it on your face. If you touched a hot oven, you would feel the heat and instinctively pull your hand away. The game designers who created the technology were multimillionaires now. Some people even argued that the generated world was better than our own. It was so easy to lose yourself in the game, your brain was a willing participant in believing whatever the program was telling you to see and feel.
During the game there was no lag time — it felt like real life. Sometimes you looked around, trying to find the edge of the image, some seam in the computer-generated environment. But try as you might, the illusion was perfect. The resolution was the same as life, and you didn’t feel like you were viewing the world from a screen. What better way to learn about history than to experience it first-hand? Some adults found the environment too realistic and got motion sick. And you had to be careful not to get hurt.
The re-enactment replayed past events and you had a chance to interact with history. In these events you could potentially influence the outcome, which was why people participated. To win.
The speakers in my earpiece came to life.
“Your attention please. Students, the game is about to begin,” the voice commanded. It was Mr. Stewart, charged with observing and starting our match. He never missed a re-enactment or the chance to explain how important the game was. “The time clock will start the moment you are immersed in the game and begin carrying out your tasks in the re-enactment. If you are hit, you will be out of the game and must remove your headgear. You may leave at that time or wait until the conclusion of the game, when the winning school will be decided. An attacker can be subdued with your weapon. Ammunition will be placed around the game stage. If you run out, you must take the weapon from one of your opponents. Fellow teammates cannot give you their weapons. Time limit is sixty minutes. Are there any questions?”
The entire dome was silent. No one asked any questions. We had all played the re-enactment since we were kids. Only an idiot would ask a question now, with the entire student body listening.
“Then let the game begin!” Mr. Stewart tried to be dramatic but several of my classmates rolled their eyes. I winked at Lacey and looked up. The entire top of the dome turned black and the playing field turned into a city block. I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing a standard city uniform, as was the rest of my class. I had some type of rifle with a strap around my shoulder. I was ready for the battle. That was when the ground rumbled and the building in front of me fell and swallowed about a third of my classmates. Instant fatalities.
That was just one of the interesting things about the re-enactment. No two were alike. Although the general story was the same, earthquake, terrorist attack, the city residents rising up, the flow of the story changed. Attacks could occur at various points in the city, forcing teams to converge at different locations. The number of combatants was different every game; sometimes the home team had a big advantage, while other times it was more even. But the most important aspect was what students liked to call the “Random Factor.” At any point the computer could add random effects, causing a game to swing into the other team’s favor. Obstacles could appear, like a building or an exploding car, your gun could have a malfunction or the ground could fracture so that you would fall to your death.
I looked at my weapon. It shot electronic bolts, like a taser gun. Bullets were strictly taboo in the re-enactment; nobody died a gruesome or bloody death, but once shot, you exited the game.
“I think Cody disappeared in the rubble,” Lacey commented casually.
“Good,” I answered, “he was always a bad team player.” I looked ahead, trying to see the opposing team, but the collapsed building blocked our view. “Which way do you want to go?”
“Most people are going to the right, towards the West Mountains. Shall we follow?”
“Like lemmings over the cliff. I hope this game ends quickly. I want to get home.” We followed our group forward, watching tentatively for the visitors.
“You used to enjoy this last semester. Acting out the role of our forefathers. Living the dream, Pene!” We both broke into a mini giggle fit realizing neither one of us had embraced our history lessons. Someone told us to be quiet. Then a student next to me was shot. He vanished from, taken from the game. He was likely taking off his headset and being ushered to the stands to watch the rest of the re-enactment. Our group broke off in a run, skirting the building and heading to the center of the town.
As in history, the power plant was the key to saving the city. If our team was able to turn the electricity back on, the city was saved. If the visitors were able to permanently disable the plant, then darkness remained and the city would descend into chaos. Game over.
“Guys, come over here,” a tall blond kid whispered and motioned to us to the wall. I looked at our group. There were twelve of us, five girls and seven boys. He drew on the ground. “We’re here,” he marked with a stick, “and we need to get there.”
“Who died and made you the leader?” A stocky guy moved to the front of group.
“Can you guys not do this right now?” Lacey gritted her teeth in exasperation. “You’re not impressing us.” The stocky guy made a face but motioned to the blond kid to continue.
“If we cross here and here,” he traced his stick in a zigzag fashion and drew a central square to symbolize the power plant, “we should be able to enter the power plant from the front in about ten minutes.”
“Won’t the other team be expecting us here? We’ll get caught in the crossfire,” the stocky boy asked. He seemed to be expressing his opinion now instead of trying to show up the blond.
“Exactly!” the blond answered. “That’s why you should take five of our group and go through the underground mall on the side entrance.”
“Underground mall,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“In history class, we covered the blueprints of the old city before the earthquake. There were underground tunnels with stores where people would go to shop, mostly in the winter months.” I saw a number of heads nod, which made me think I really needed to start paying better attention in Mr. Stewart’s class. “Since the earthquake, the ground is too unstable, but during the game there is a good chance this area is still safe.”
“That means there could also a good chance the ceiling will come crashing down on our heads. No thank you,” Lacey said as she stood up.
“Oh come on, the worst thing that will happen is we’ll be knocked out of the game. Let’s go for it,” I said, intrigued by the tunnels.
“Fine,” Lacey answered with resignation.
“Okay, you five,” the blond kid pointed to me and Lacey, the stocky kid and two other guys, “head over to this building and then go underground to the power plant. The rest of us will head to main entrance. We should be first but if the other team is there, we’ll attack and draw their attention.” He looked us over, making sure everyone understood.
“Let’s go make history!” The stocky boy grabbed his weapon and two other boys charged after him. Lacey and I hastily charged after them as the rest of the team veered right up a side street.
“Are we having fun yet?” Lacey smiled and her weapon almost hit her on the side of the head from the forward motion.
“Can’t stop smiling,” I answered dryly, trying to keep the three boys in sight. We turned the corner and watched as a door slowly closed on the side of the building. I grabbed it just before it shut.
“You idiots want to slow down! We can barely keep up,” I yelled. The footsteps stopped below and one of the boys looked up.
“Come on! It’s not our fault you can’t keep up.” He shifted his gaze at Lacey. She made a face but you could tell she silently agreed. We dropped down three flights of stairs and then entered a hallway. I looked across and saw a long tunnel that must have led several blocks ahead. The tunnel ceiling was painted with murals of clouds and a blue sky. I guess people who worked down here all day wanted to see the sky.
We caught up with the guys and walked past a number of locked-up shops along the walls, everything from coffee shops to clothes to electronics. The tunnel reminded me of an upscale Marks. I turned and realized that Lacey wasn’t with me.
“Stop staring at those shoes! They’re not real!” I yelled back to where Lacey had a red high heel in her hand from a shoe boutique. The boys snickered and Lacey dropped the shoe. She gave me a mischievous look. Sometimes I felt she did things just to get a reaction out of everyone else.
The boys stopped suddenly as I almost bumped into their backs.
“Listen — do you hear that?” one of the boys asked. Our group was quiet, and seconds later our silence was rewarded. Laser fire could be heard from above ground, likely a block away.
“Sounds like those guys are in a fight. Come on, let’s restart the power plant,” the stocky boy commented.
“Look over there!” one of the boys yelled. The ceiling had cracked earlier from the earthquake and debris was spewing down.
“Tell me we don’t have to go that way?” Lacey asked.
“We have to go that way!” the stocky boy responded. “If we don’t, we have to go above ground right into the firefight. Hurry!” he commanded. Our group ran full-out past the cave-in. Pebbles tumbled past my head; one knocked my arm. A boulder narrowly missed Lacey’s head.
“That would have hurt,” she quipped. The dust in the air was thick and all of us were coughing. About a hundred feet ahead we could make out the tunnel that led to the power plant. Lacey tripped over her shoes and almost fell.
“Come on!” I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the tunnel past the ceiling collapse. “Don’t be lame by dying now.” The five of us stopped, out of breath but safely past the debris.
“We did it!” One of the boys punched the air. We all smiled and then fell back to the ground as a boulder the size of small car crushed him. His form flashed out as he left the game and went back to the safe zone.
“And then there were four,” the stocky boy announced. We looked at each other and regrouped, heading into the bowels of the power plant. We activated a motion detector and two doors slid open. We walked into the cool darkness. Just as the darkness made it too difficult to see a flashlight beam kicked on.
“Each of your weapons has a flashlight mounted above your scope,” the stocky boy’s voice boomed out the darkness. I reached down and flicked a switch. Another beam powered on after me. In seconds there were four beams dancing on the tunnel wall.
“Wait a second. Do you guys hear something?” Lacey asked from the darkness. We were silent and the world seemed quiet.
“Nothing,” the other boy answered. “Do you think the fight’s over above ground?”
“If it is, who won?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter. We keep going, we’re almost there,” the stocky boy answered. “Look ahead!” I gazed forward, my night vision ruined by our flashlights. At first I didn’t see anything but darkness, but then I saw a row of red lights flickering along the ceiling, like a runway strip beckoning us to approach. The four of us ran towards the light, realizing our time was running out.
Then the darkness exploded with light. We had been discovered.
Lacey and I ducked behind a stairwell just as a section of wall collapsed and smashed to the ground about five feet from us. The weapons lit up the darkness like fireworks — reds and blues illuminated the shadows. They would have been pretty to watch if their impact didn’t eliminate you from the game. The stocky boy pointed his weapon out around a crate and took multiple shots. It looked spectacular but his aim was poor. He got lucky and missed our attackers but the shot dislodged a huge piece of ceiling. A muffled scream meant that our attacker was crushed.
“Booyah!” the other boy yelled. My flashlight shifted over to him as he was jumping in in celebration. “You did it! You took him out, man. You rock!” Then an electrical net came flying through the air and wrapped itself around him. The look on his face went from jubilation to frustration. He vanished as he returned to the game area. The stocky boy fired his gun at the origin of the flash of light. A scream and then silence confirmed that he had found his mark.
“Guess there was more than one,” Lacey added while sliding her gun back into position.
“Thanks for the obvious,” the stocky boy answered from the darkness. “Head for those doors.” He pointed with his light. We crossed the tunnel and doors opened automatically. The room beyond bathed us in a sickly fluorescent glow. The area was the size of a warehouse, with large turbines whirling at the far end. The noise was deafening — an army of tanks could crash through the wall and you won’t hear them coming. Our fearless leader pointed to a group of machines that were in darkness about halfway down the corridor. He didn’t have to explain. We just needed to reach them, turn on the power, and we would win.
He dashed ahead of us while Lacey and I smiled.
“Looks like we won this one!” she yelled over the roar of the noise. I smiled back at her. The stocky boy stopped in from of the dark turbine. I could see him reaching for a handle that was to be pulled down to activate the machine. He turned his head and gave us a big smile. Then he disappeared in a blaze of light. My eyes watched the shot as it came directly across the room. Lacey and I dived behind another turbine as mini explosions rumbled from the front of the machine. We hunkered down, knowing that time was against us.
There was a gap in between turbines; if we crossed it, we could get to the machine we needed. I took one step towards the gap and floor melted under my feet. The heat made me fall backwards into Lacey. “We can’t go forward,” I screamed. “I’ll be disintegrated the second I step into the opening!” She looked at me and then cocked her head, as if she had an idea.
She smiled and I realized a second too late what she was going to do. She gave me a stupid salute, like it would the last time I would see her again. Then she stood up and ran out into the center of the huge room and began to fire wildly in all directions. I had no time to be cross, and if I didn’t react immediately, her diversion would be a waste. I crossed the gap, expecting to be shot but made it to the other side without incident. Then there was a popping sound and the room became quiet. I tried not to expose my body as I reached for the lever to activate the power. My hand slapped around the console blindly since I couldn’t look where I was reaching. Then I felt a finger on my back.
“We got to stop meeting like this,” said a familiar voice. I turned and saw Austin, looking very smug that he had caught me. I knew I was done but it didn’t mean I had to be a good sport about it.
“You are going to let the terrorists win?” I asked, trying to appeal to his patriotism.
“Don’t believe everything history class teaches you. It’s not as black and white as it’s written.” I wondered about that, thinking about my dad’s office and the video evidence. Was anything we were told true? “Nothing personal, just playing the game.” He motioned.
“Well, get it over with, game’s almost over.”
“I don’t shoot girls,” he said.
“Then how?” I started as he tapped the kill switch on my headband and fantasy melted back into reality.