Ryan’s nose bleeds. But that is nothing compared to his heart that is bleeding a sea inside. Lynda’s shot has left a deep wound in his heart; this time deeper than when Lynda dumped him on his birthday; a wound unhealable; a wound that Ryan will be carrying with him, probably for the rest of his life.
Eight months, three weeks, and five days ago, he promised himself never ever to make a fool of himself again; never let himself be hurt by another girl. And now here he is again, his promise broken, so is his heart; and by the same girl. He does not know why he even tries. And more painfully, he cannot figure out Lynda.
Back to Earth, Ryan lies on the recliner. He has exited the game; almost. He cannot be certain whether he is still playing the game or perhaps this is his mind who plays games with him. As if he is stuck in a time loop, the last moments before Lynda shoots him are rewound over and over, from different angles, at different speeds. Each time, he desperately tries to change the course of events and create a different ending for that most disheartening scene. Nevertheless, every time the scene ends with a bullet in his heart. A bullet shot by Lynda. And each time he screams the same question: why? He zooms into her eyes, perhaps he can figure an answer to the haunting question that is tormenting him. Nothing. It is just absurd. He opens his heart to her; she takes it at first but then returns it, shattered to pieces!
“I wanna exit,” Ryan whimpers. Sitting up on the recliner, he hugs his knees. “I don’t wanna play anymore.”
“You’re back, Ryan,” Michele says, gently touching him on the shoulder. “You’ve exited already.”
“I mean this.” He takes the game helmet off. “This ridiculous shit,” he shouts, slapping the helmet into her chest. “I’m out,”
Holding the helmet, Michele turns her head up, a look of puzzle all over her face. “You can’t just quit like that,” she says when Ryan hops off the recliner.
“Sure, I can. I just did,” Ryan responds, walking away. His legs not having received their strength back yet, he loses his balance.
Dropping the helmet, Michele rushes to hold his arm.
It takes a few moments for Ryan to regain his balance. “I’m OK,” he says, breathing rapidly.
“How about Lynda?” Michele asks and continues the question with her insisting gaze.
Ryan breaks the gaze. “She doesn’t care about me,” he says, anger crawling into his voice; an anger that he did not know before he had in him. Separating himself from Michele’s supporting grip, he hobbles away. “Come to think of it, I doubt if she ever did.”
“Ryan, this isn’t about you. The mission is to save my Lynda.”
“Then why me?” he shouts while turning to her. A few tears trickle down his cheek. “Why should I get hurt—”
“That was in the game,” she replies, a tone of guilt recognizable in her voice. “You’re not really shot.”
“—I open my heart to her, and she just…she just…” Tears erupt when the sob takes over.
Tears welling up in her eyes, Michele bites her lips.
The sound of Ryan’s sob dominates the atmosphere of the room for a few moments.
“Yeah, been there, done that,” Rajneesh mutters from behind.
That gives Ryan mixed feelings. He is apparently being lowered to such a level that now he and Rajneesh are considered of the same type! The unbearable image harshens his attitude and hardens his will.
His sobbing suddenly stops. Ryan strides toward Senator who’s been awkwardly silent, sitting in the corner, on the dark blue sofa. “Here, take this,” he says, the sorrow in his voice replaced with cruelty. Extending his hand, he holds out the handheld console almost to Senator’s face. “Tell Mrs. Honestman I’m sorry. There are many champions out there, some even better than I am. I’m not the only one. And there is nothing left between Lynda and I that would make me the one.”
Stroking his chin, Senator avoids eye contact with Ryan. “But you’re the only one who can exit,” he says, leaving Ryan with his hand extended.
“What?! How do you know that?”
“Ah…Senator,” Michele jumps in, stepping forward. “I’m not sure President Money would approve of—”
“He deserves to know the truth,” Senator snaps at Michele, standing up. “He’s strong enough to handle it.” He turns back to Ryan when Michele retracts her objecting gaze. “Because you’re not the first soldier we dispatched to Uranus. But you’re the first who has ever managed to exit.”
The color drained from his face, Ryan sputters a few words. Suddenly his mouth dries up. He takes a hard swallow, but his throat remains as dry as before. He draws in a deep breath before he dares ask, “How many—”
“Six. They all seem to get infected by the same software issue when they get in touch with Lynda.”
“Senator,” Michele says, “I’ll be obliged to inform President Money—”
“I’m the seventh!” Ryan exclaims, breathing heavily. His head feels heavy, similar to when it is radiated by the game helmet.
“This cannot be true,” Ryan thinks. “Humans don’t do that to each other. This is too cruel to be real. This might just be yet another game. Yeah, that must be it. All I have to do is to remove the game helmet, and this ridiculous story will be over.” His gaze falls on the game helmet sitting on the recliner when his hands impulsively touch his head. He presses hard against his ears when the helmet’s evil laughter echoes in his head.
His vision getting blurry and his knees wobbling, Ryan crumbles down on the floor before falling. After a moment of chewing on the unbelievable information he has just received, he takes his eyes off the floor and looks up at Senator standing above, his hands in his pockets.
“You knew about this and still let me get in?”
“It’s all for the good cause, soldier. You understand, right?”
“You filthy liars. You lied to me!”
“We didn’t tell you the truth and that’s not the same thing, technically.”
“You tricked me, all of you—”
“I’m sorry,” Michele squeaks from behind.
“—President, you, your wife—”
“My ex actually has no idea. She is too sentimental to handle the truth.”
“What if… what if I couldn’t exit too? What if I was stuck in the game?”
“That is the risk we were willing to take, soldier.”
“I’m sorry,” Michele mutters again.
“You take risks with my life!” Ryan growls, fury rippling into his voice. “What am I to you, a guinea pig? Unbelievable! I’m out of here.” Ryan staggers to his feet, dashing to the walls that have trapped him in the dome. “Where is the exit door?” Touching the wall, he tries to find a door handle. “You people are evil. Pure evil. Where is this goddamn exit door?”
“There is no exit for you,” President Money says, his oversized hologram appearing at the center of the dome, “not until we figure out the exit issue in Uranus.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. President,” Michele says, the fear in her face lit up by the giant hologram. “I tried to stop Senator.”
“It’s OK, Michele. I’ll take it from here.”
“What are you talking about?” Ryan shouts. “I’m a free citizen. I want out. Now.”
“Thirty-two billion dollars of investment, our exclusive contract with the Pentagon, they all depend on fixing this little exit issue,” President’s hologram says calmly. “I’m running a private company here, and we cannot give a rat’s ass about your civil rights. I’m sorry, son. It’s just the way it is.”
“Senator Honestman,” Ryan says, turning to the honest man of law. “They cannot do that. It’s illegal.”
Senator takes out the yellow pocket square. Using it to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he turns his back to Ryan.
“Good citizens obey the law,” President says from behind, “great citizens define it. Our corporation determines what is legal and what’s not. The good senator here is one of the major shareholders, in return for him paving our way to success through Washington, DC. How do you think we got the exclusive contract with the Pentagon?”
Time to use your head, Ryan thinks to himself. If this was a game, how would you play it? Think Ryan, think. “I got it.” Ryan snaps his fingers. “I know how to help you. You let me go now, and by tomorrow morning, I’ll bring you Raul, the best gamer in the world. I lost the championship to him in Mars II. And he already has preexisting emotional crap that you’re looking for; after Lynda dumped me, I saw her flirting with that asshole behind the bookshelves in the library. He’s your man, I’m telling ya. You just let him get in Uranus, and I bet in one go he can figure out the exit issue.” Ryan finishes with a grin all over his face, hoping that they bite the bait.
President’s hologram sneers.
Maintaining his optimism, Ryan turns to Senator. “What do you say, Senator? It’s a pretty good deal.”
“You mean Mr. Raul Moreno?” Senator says over his shoulder as his back is to Ryan.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“He was an honorable, brave soldier, the first that we dispatched to save Lynda. Never exited.” Although his upward chin tries to act proud and confident, a sliver of regret crawls into his voice.
The grin melted away, there is nothing left on Ryan’s face but a look of despair. “I was just trying to do something nice,” he pleads, “to help your daughter. Is that how you repay me?”
Holding his head in his hands, Senator does not turn back.
Ryan’s desperate gaze lingers on him.
“For God’s sake, kid, grow up,” frustrated President shouts at Ryan. “He has sacrificed his own daughter for this company. Do you really think he would give a damn about you?”
“I’m a prisoner here?” Ryan says with a trembling voice while turning from unresponsive Senator to the talking hologram, who seems to be in charge.
“I wouldn’t use that word,” President says. “You’re…more of a guest.”
“Welcome to the party,” Rajneesh says, gesturing to his tied hands.
“Some games, soldier, we can’t quit,” Senator says with a fatherly tone from behind, touching Ryan on the shoulder. His collar opened and his bow tie loosened, Senator’s confident words are rippled with outspoken doubts in his tone. “We just can’t. Finish the game, and we all go home, including the troll here.”
“It’s Coder, I mean Software Engineer,” Rajneesh growls. “Get it right, Mr. I-sacrifice-Lynda-for-money.”
“Shut up,” Senator spits, his fist squeezing the yellow pocket square.
“Lynda,” Ryan mutters, stroking his chin.
Rajneesh continues, “Poor Lynda—”
“Lynda,” Ryan mutters again, this time louder.
“—What did that beautiful girl ever do to you?”
“Shut up,” Senator shouts at Rajneesh, shooting him a deadly glare.
“Lynda was always smiling.”
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,” Senator roars, storming toward Rajneesh. “Don’t you dare use my daughter’s name or I’ll have your neck broken.” His left hand grabbing Rajneesh by the collar, his right fist that is clenching the yellow pocket square is a span away from Rajneesh’s jaw. Judging by the clumsy way Senator is fisting his hand, he has probably never been in a fist fight before.
“Lynda,” Ryan snaps and with that everyone turns to him. “Why is her name always Lynda?” Ryan asks Michele.
Letting go of Rajneesh’s collar, Senator steps toward Michele and Ryan.
“Don’t ask me,” Rajneesh says from behind although no one’s attention is on him. He goes on with a nervous chuckle. “I’m no longer to use her precious name.”
Michele shrinks under the weight of those many gazes on her. Looking puzzled, she has no response but to gulp.
“What do you exactly mean?” President asks Ryan.
“I mean in the game. I’ve been in Uranus three times now. Each time in a new character, with a new name. How is it that her re-incarnations are always named Lynda?”
Without saying a word, Michele slowly raises her hand, pointing to Rajneesh.
All eyes turn back onto Rajneesh. President’s hologram flies closer to him. Senator also steps back toward him.
“Why are you freaks looking at me like that? How would I know?” Rajneesh says, his voice trembling.
President’s hologram has now joined Senator, standing right above Rajneesh.
“Have you heard of a little something called coincidence, Miss I-am-a-designer,” Rajneesh continues, trying to find Michele behind the hologram. “The names are assigned randomly. It’s your own requirement. Remember? When it’s random, shit happens. It’s actually not that rare at all. Lynda happens to be the second most popular female name in the US. So, it’s quite likely to be repeated.”
“How do you know that?” Ryan asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“Every software engineer knows that. This is a well-known fact about random—”
“I mean,” Ryan interrupts, “the thing about the second most popular name.”
“What kind of bullshit question is that, Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I just happen to know interesting trivia about names.”
“Okay. What’s the first most popular name?”
“Huh?”
“You said you know trivia about popular names. Lynda is the second. What’s the first?”
Rajneesh sputters a few words before he stops trying. Like a raging bear ready to charge, he breathes noisily through his nose. His teeth grinding, he stares with so much hatred as if he would tear Ryan apart if he was not tied up. “You know what?” he says, his voice tight. “I am getting sick of this line of questioning. Who do you think you are to talk to me like that, lover boy? I am the creator of this world; you just play in it. You’re nothing but—”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Michele cuts him off. “Alexi, search the source code for the name Lynda.”
“You know, in our line of work, we can’t always know the truth and facts,” Senator says in an intimidatingly calm voice. He slowly puts his black gloves on. “So, you have no choice but to resort to superstitions. To us, there is a meaning behind every coincidence.” His gloved hand reaches Rajneesh’s throat. “And the meaning of this one is that you’re full of shit,” he growls.
“Found it,” Michele yells from behind. “The name Lynda is hard-coded in the source.”
“Well, well, well,” President says. “Liar, Liar, troll’s pants are on fire.”
“Leave me alone, you freaks,” Rajneesh barks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It must be just a name my team gave to a variable. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“The name Lynda seems to trigger a secret module,” Michele continues, reading from a hologram of lines before her face, “which is…compiled.”
“English please,” President commands.
“It means it’s all turned to 0s and 1s, the machine language. It’s…incomprehensible.”
“Well, make it comprehensible then. Reverse engineer it.”
“It’s manual work. I already assigned our best team to that. But it takes days to finish the process.”
President’s hologram leans down on Rajneesh. “Do you remember a marvelous place in Uranus called Guantanamo Bay?”
Rajneesh nods while cringing.
“I personally passed that as a requirement to Michele. You must know how delightful the bay is over there, right? You wrote the code.”
Rajneesh’s face whitens with fear.
“You either talk now or once we have the proof, I’ll have you sent to a nice vacation in Uranus, to Guantanamo Bay.” With his head awfully near Rajneesh’s face, President’s giant hologram appears to be devouring Rajneesh.
“OK. OK,” Rajneesh says. Eyes shut, his face is sideward.
“OK what?”
“OK, I talk,” he says, opening his eyes.
“We have a talking troll here,” President says, his hologram stepping away from Rajneesh. “It’s yours now,” he says to Michele.
“The first time I saw her”—Rajneesh begins his confession—“was on her on-site visit to the engineering department…”