12

Just Like The Real Thing

They ran down the ramp and back to the corridor.

'Got a watch on?' said Johnny.

'Yes. We've got more than six minutes.'

'I should have known!' said Johnny, as they ran. 'No- one gets that long to escape! James Bond never turns up with enough time to have a cup of coffee and clean his shoes before he disarms the time bomb! We're playing games again!'

'Calm down!'

'If we find a cat I'm going to kick it!'

The corridors were darker. Water dripped from the ceiling. There was still some steam, hissing out of broken pipes.

They reached a junction.

'Which way?'

Kirsty pointed.

'That way.'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course.'

They disappeared into the gloom.

About thirty seconds later they reappeared, running. 'Oh, yes, of course.'

'Well, they all look the same, actually. It must be this way!'

This one did lead to the wide corridor with the door to the bridge at the far end.

It was open. They could see the blue and white flickering of the big screen.

Kirsty changed her grip on the gun.

'O-kay,' she said. 'No messing about this time, right? No talking?'

'All right.'

'Let's go.'

'How?'

'You walk in there. When he leaps out at you, I'll get him.'

'Oh? I'm bait, am I?'

Kirsty glanced at her wrist.

'You've got four and half minutes to think of some- thing better,' she said. 'Oh, sorry. Four minutes and twenty-five seconds. Hang on, that's twenty seconds now

'I just hope you're good!'

Kirsty patted the gun. 'Regional Champion, remem- ber? Trust me.'

Johnny walked towards the open doorway. He tried to swivel his eyes both ways as he reached it.

'Four minutes and fifteen seconds,' said her voice, far, far behind him.

He halted on the threshold.

'How come you weren't National Champion?' he said.

'I had food poisoning on the day, actually.'

'Oh. Right.'

He stepped through.

Multi-toothed death failed to happen to him. He risked a better look to either side and then, swallowing, upwards as well. 'Nothing here,' he said. 'OK. I'm right behind you.'

On the screen the Border was already much bigger. We're travelling very fast, he thought, and it's still more than four minutes away, and already it's filling the sky. Huge isn't the word for it.

'I can see all round the room,' he said. 'No-one s here.'

'There was a control panel, wasn't there?' said Kirsty. 'Hang on I'm in the doorway now. Yes. It's got to be behind the controls. Go ahead. I'm ready if it leaps out.'

I'm not, he thought. He sidled across the floor until he could just see behind the bank of instruments.

'There's noth ... hold it.'

'What?'

'I think it's the Captain.'

'Is it alive?'

'She. She's a she. You know she's a she. I can't tell. She's just ... lying there. I'll have a look.'

'What good would that do?'

'I'm going to have a look, all right?' 'Careful, then. Stay where I can keep an eye on you. He moved forward, searching the shadows around the edge of the huge room.

It was the Captain, and she was alive. At least, bits of what was probably her chest were going up and down. He knelt beside her. 'Captain?' he whispered. She opened one eye. 'Chosen One?' 'What happened?' 'He was ... waiting. While I ... talked to you he crept in ... hit me

'Where'd he go then?'

'You... must... go. Not much time... left. The fleet...is...' 'You're hurt. I'll get Ki - Sigourney over here Her claw gripped his arm.

'Listen to me! He's going ... to blow up the ship! The fuel ... the power plant ... he's . .

Johnny stood up.

'Is she all right?' Kirsty called out.

'I don't know!'

She was standing in the doorway, outlined against the light.

There was a shadow behind her. As Johnny watched, it spread its arms.

It was bigger than a ScreeWee should be, now. It wasn't a funny alligator - there was still a suggestion of alligator there, but now there was insect, too, and other things ... things that had never existed outside of dreams

Johnny shouted: 'He's behind you!' Then he lowered his head and ran.

Kirsty turned.

You can't trust dreams. If you live inside them, they'll turn on you, carry you along .

He saw Kirsty turn and look up, and up, at the Gun- nery Officer.

The ScreeWee opened his mouth. There were more teeth than he'd had before; rows and rows of them, and every one glistening and sharp.

Her dream, Johnny thought. No wonder she always fights.

'Shoot it! Shoot it!'

She was just staring. She didn't seem to want to move. 'You've got the gun!' he screamed. She was like a statue. 'Shoot it!'

Kirsty shook her head vaguely and then, as if she'd suddenly clicked awake, raised the gun.

'OK,' she said. 'Now-'

The ScreeWee ignored her. He jerked his head up and focused on Johnny. He hardly had eyes, now. The alien seemed to be looking at Johnny with its teeth.

'Ah. The Chosen One,' it said. It slapped Kirsty out of the way. She couldn't even have seen its arm move. One moment she was aiming, and the next she was lifted into the air and dropping in a heap a few metres away.

The gun clattered on to the floor and slid towards Johnny.

'Chosen One!' hissed the ScreeWee. 'Foolish! We are what we are! You disgrace your race and mine! For you, and her ... for you, there's no going back . .

Kirsty was trying to get to her feet, her face con- torted with anger.

Johnny reached down and picked up the gun.

The ScreeWee waved two arms in a sudden move- ment. Johnny flinched.

He heard, from a long way away, Kirsty call out: 'Quick! Throw it to me! To me!'

The alien smiled.

Johnny backed away a little. The alien was concen- trating entirely on him.

'To me, you idiot!' shouted Kirsty.

'You?' said the alien to Johnny. 'Shoot me? You can't. Such weakness. Like your Captain. A disgrace to the ScreeWee. Always weak. And that is why you want peace. The strong never want peace. Johnny raised the gun.

The alien moved forward, slowly. His teeth seemed to fill the world. His arms seemed longer, his claws sharper.

'You cannot,' it said. 'I've watched you. At least the other humans could fight! We could die honourably! But you ... you talk and talk ... you'd do anything rather than fight. You'd do anything but face the truth. You save mankind? Hah!'

Johnny stepped back again, and felt the edge of the control desk behind him. There was no more retreating.

'Will you surrender?' he said.

'Never!'

Johnny saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Kirsty was going to try to leap on the thing. But the alien wasn't like the guards, now. She wouldn't stand a chance He fired.

There was a small, sharp explosion.

The ScreeWee looked down in shock at the sudden blue stain spreading across his overall, and then back up to Johnny almost in bewilderment.

'You shot me ... in cold blood . .

'No. My blood's never cold.'

The alien toppled forward. And now he was smaller again, more like a ScreeWee.

'And I had to,' said Johnny.

'You shot him,' said the voice behind him. He looked round. The Captain had pulled herself to her feet.

'Yes.' 'You had to. But I didn't think you could . . Johnny looked down at the gun. His knuckles were white. With some difficulty, he managed to persuade his fingers to let go.

'I didn't think I could, either.'

He walked over to Kirsty, who was staring at the thing on the floor.

'Wow,' she said, but quietly.

'Yes,' he said.

'You-'

'Yes, I shot him. I shot him. I wish I didn't have to, but I had to. He was alive and now he isn't.' There were more alarms sounding now, and red lights flashing on the control panel. On the screen, the Border completely filled the sky. 'Can we go? How much longer have we got left?'

She looked hazily at her watch.

'A minute and a half.'

He was amazed. He felt he was sitting inside his own head, watching himself. There wasn't any panic. The him who was watching didn't know what to do, but one outside seemed to know everything. It was... like a dream.

'Can you run?' She nodded. 'Really fast? What am I saying? You've probably won medals. Come on.

He pulled her after him, out of the bridge and along the dark corridors. Kirsty was hardly concentrating any more; the walls glistened less. There were even nuts and bolts again.

They reached the capsule. Johnny ran from leg to leg until he found the button that let down the ramp. It seemed to take ages to come down.

'How long?'

'We've got fifty seconds . . Up the ramp, into the seats. There weren't many controls. Johnny peered at them. 'What are you doing?' said Kirsty.

'Like you said before. Looking for one marked "Doors Open".'

The screen flickered into life

'Johnny? The doors open from up here,' said the Captain.

Johnny glanced up at Kirsty.

'We didn't know that,' he said.

'Is the ramp back up?'

'Yes.'

'Doors opening.'

There was a clonk ahead of them, and a hiss as the air in the hall escaped through the widening crack. The twinkling, unreal stars of game space beckoned them.

Johnny's hand hovered over the biggest red button on the panel.

'Johnny?' 'Yes, Captain.' 'Thank you. You did it,' 'If not me, then who?' 'Hah. Yes. And now. 'Perhaps we shall meet again.' 'Goodbye.' 'We could not have done it if we had not had you to help us.' 'Anything else?' 'Goodbye. We will not forget you.' Johnny looked at Kirsty. 'How long?' 'Ten seconds!' 'Let's go.' He hit the button.

There was a boom behind them. The walls flashed past. And suddenly they were surrounded by sky.

Johnny leaned back against the seat. His mind was blank, empty, except for something which kept on replaying itself like a piece of film.

Over and over again, his memory fired the gun. Over and over again, the alien collapsed. Action replay. Pin- point precision. Just like the Real Thing.

Kirsty nudged him.

'Can we steer it?'

'Hmm? What?' He looked vaguely at the controls. 'Well, there's this joystick

'Turn us round, then. I want to watch them go through.'

'Yes. Me too.'

The capsule turned gently in the deep void of game space, right up against the Border.

The ScreeWee fleet hurtled past. As each ship reached the Border it flickered and faded.

'Do you think they've got a planet to go to, really?'

'I think they think so.' 'Do you think they'll ever be back?' 'Not now. 'Um ... look... when I looked up and I saw that thing . . I mean, it was so real. And I thought, but it's alive, it's living, how can I ' 'Yes,' said Johnny.

'And then it was dead and ... and I didn't feel like cheering.'

'Yes.'

'When it's real, it's not easy. Because people die and it's really over.'

'Yes. I know. Over and over. D'you know what?'

'What?'

'My friend Yo-less thinks dreams like this are a way of dealing with real life.'

'Yes?'

'I think it's the other way round.'

'Yo-less is the black one?'

'Yes. We call him Yo-less because he's not cool.'

'Anti-cool's quite cool too.'

'Is it? I didn't know that. Is it still cool to say "well wicked"?'

'Johnny! It was never cool to say "well wicked".'

'How about "vode"?'

'Vode's cool.'

'I just made it up.'

The capsule drifted onwards.

'No reason why it can't be cool, though.'

'Right.'

Game stars glittered.

'Johnny?'

'Yes?'

'How come you get on with people so well? How come people always talk to you?'

'Dunno. Because I listen, I suppose. And it helps to be stupid.'

'Johnny?'

'Still here.'

'What did you mean ... you know, back there? When you said I see aliens everywhere?'

'Um. Can't remember.'

'You must have meant something.'

'I'm not even sure there are aliens. Only different kinds of us. But I know what the important thing is. The important thing is to be exactly sure about what you're doing. The important thing is to remember it's not a game. None of it. Even the games.

The ship became a dot against the night.

'What do we do to get home? I've always had to die to get out.'

'You can get out if you win.'

'There's a green button here.'

'Worth a try, yes?'

'Right.'

Light was streaming into the room when Johnny woke up. He lay in someone else's bed and looked around through half-closed eyes.

It was like all spare rooms everywhere. There was the lamp that was a bit old-fashioned and didn't fit in anywhere else. There was the bookcase with the books that no-one read much. There was a lack of small things, apart from an ashtray on the bedside table.

There was a clock, but at some time in the past the mains had gone off for a while and although people must have sorted out every other clock in the house, they'd forgotten about this one, so it just sat and flashed 7:41 continuously, day and night. But an absence of sound from below suggested that it was still early in the morning.

He snuggled down, treasuring this time stolen between dreaming and waking.

So - . . what next? He'd have to talk to Kirsty, who dreamed of being Sigourney and forgot that she was trying to be someone who was acting. And he had a suspicion that he'd see his parents before long. He was probably going to be talked at a lot, but at least that'd make a change.

These were still Trying Times. There was still school. Nothing actually was better, probably. No-one was doing anything with a magic wand.

But the fleet had got away. Compared to that, everything else was ... well, not easy. But less like a wall and more like steps.

You might never win, but at least you could try. If not you, who else?

He turned over and went back to sleep.

The Border hung in the sky.

Huge white letters, thousands of miles high.

They spelled:


GAME

OVER


And the fleet roared past. Tankers, battleships, fighters . . they soared and rolled, their shadows streaking across the letters as ship after ship escaped, for ever.


NEW GAME?

(Y/N)

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