busy rubbing at the pain building in my neck. Tension makes the muscles so tight I’m afraid I’ll snap. With Davyd for company there’s no way to warn Mother.
And I need to get his help in order to keep my promise to Lady and fulfill the task I set myself when Samuai and Zed died—find out the truth.
Now I have two missions. Either one could get me or people I care about killed.
Chapter Eight
[Blank]
The game’s speed is insane, even with my enhanced focus. The ship’s an extension of my body. I fly and evade and fire and dodge and don’t have time to think.
There’s a lull in the aliens and I circle up high, using some metal debris as cover. A ship moves into range. I fire, squeezing with my left hand.
“Yes!”
Direct hit.
I must have hit a weak spot, or maybe it was already wounded, but the side of the ship splits open, exposing bare, vulnerable feet. The ship free falls, bouncing off rocks and debris on its way to the ground. My mouth dries. Were they Megs’ feet?
I’ve been so caught up in the game that I didn’t think about Megs being my competitor.
I pass low over the shattered ship. There’s a three on the hull. Not Megs. But the next one might be. I rise back into the main game space with some of the joy missing. Everyone here chose to play . But the thought doesn’t wipe away my fears of being responsible for hurting someone else. For fun.
The next wave of aliens stops my musings. In between, I fly mainly to avoid. Hanging back lets me observe. Megs isn’t merely good, she kicks ass. Every time she has a chance to take a clean shot she nails it and her flying of the clunky ship is damn near graceful.
After the third wave of aliens it’s just the two of us left in the air.
Can I take her down to win?
An image springs to mind. Megs on the stretcher. Bleeding because of me. The second of distraction leaves me open and Megs takes the shot. I jerk my knees up and chest down to roll but it’s not enough. I’m hit. Pain shoots from a cut above my eyes and I blink away blood. The seal I noticed when I was getting in is skimmed and catches alight. The flames distort my readouts and I’m flying half blind.
My legs are warm. Then hot. Then holy crap the fire’s through. Pain. White-hot and tear-inducing, it bites into my right knee. I smell meat cooking. Me. My stomach revolts but part of me manages to keep flying. Anything not to get hit again. I fire indiscriminately while I scan the half-lit display. I saw something. Where was it? Where. Was. It?
There.
Slamming my head back releases a fluid through the ship. I groan aloud when it reaches my leg and brings instant relief. The pain isn’t gone but it’s not spreading. I grit my teeth and drag my mind back into the game. Get it finished, then get some treatment.
I could give up. Land. Pretend I’m too injured to continue. My brain rejects the notion. It’s one thing to lose but I can’t give up. I won’t. The solution is simple. I must win.
The ship’s less responsive than before and it takes me a few seconds to locate Megs. She’s up high, almost hiding. Maybe I was lucky enough to hit her. Good. The better to end this thing.
I head up. The relief from the fluid’s short lived. It stopped the fire but sweat from the pain dribbles down the side of my face and I blink it from my eyes. I can’t afford to muck around with tactics. I fly straight for Megs. All guns firing. The plan is straightforward. I’ll hit her before she hits me. It works.
I land a few seconds after her and have to wait a frustratingly long time to check she’s not hurt. The damage to my ship means it takes a few minutes for the tech guy to cut me out.
The hatch cracks open and his grinning head fills the space in front of me. “You won, bro,” he shouts. “You didn’t just win but you beat Megs.”
Is that awe in his voice? A flush of triumph dulls my pain. “Is she okay?”
He chuckles. “She wishes she didn’t bring you along.” He
And I need to get his help in order to keep my promise to Lady and fulfill the task I set myself when Samuai and Zed died—find out the truth.
Now I have two missions. Either one could get me or people I care about killed.
Chapter Eight
[Blank]
The game’s speed is insane, even with my enhanced focus. The ship’s an extension of my body. I fly and evade and fire and dodge and don’t have time to think.
There’s a lull in the aliens and I circle up high, using some metal debris as cover. A ship moves into range. I fire, squeezing with my left hand.
“Yes!”
Direct hit.
I must have hit a weak spot, or maybe it was already wounded, but the side of the ship splits open, exposing bare, vulnerable feet. The ship free falls, bouncing off rocks and debris on its way to the ground. My mouth dries. Were they Megs’ feet?
I’ve been so caught up in the game that I didn’t think about Megs being my competitor.
I pass low over the shattered ship. There’s a three on the hull. Not Megs. But the next one might be. I rise back into the main game space with some of the joy missing. Everyone here chose to play . But the thought doesn’t wipe away my fears of being responsible for hurting someone else. For fun.
The next wave of aliens stops my musings. In between, I fly mainly to avoid. Hanging back lets me observe. Megs isn’t merely good, she kicks ass. Every time she has a chance to take a clean shot she nails it and her flying of the clunky ship is damn near graceful.
After the third wave of aliens it’s just the two of us left in the air.
Can I take her down to win?
An image springs to mind. Megs on the stretcher. Bleeding because of me. The second of distraction leaves me open and Megs takes the shot. I jerk my knees up and chest down to roll but it’s not enough. I’m hit. Pain shoots from a cut above my eyes and I blink away blood. The seal I noticed when I was getting in is skimmed and catches alight. The flames distort my readouts and I’m flying half blind.
My legs are warm. Then hot. Then holy crap the fire’s through. Pain. White-hot and tear-inducing, it bites into my right knee. I smell meat cooking. Me. My stomach revolts but part of me manages to keep flying. Anything not to get hit again. I fire indiscriminately while I scan the half-lit display. I saw something. Where was it? Where. Was. It?
There.
Slamming my head back releases a fluid through the ship. I groan aloud when it reaches my leg and brings instant relief. The pain isn’t gone but it’s not spreading. I grit my teeth and drag my mind back into the game. Get it finished, then get some treatment.
I could give up. Land. Pretend I’m too injured to continue. My brain rejects the notion. It’s one thing to lose but I can’t give up. I won’t. The solution is simple. I must win.
The ship’s less responsive than before and it takes me a few seconds to locate Megs. She’s up high, almost hiding. Maybe I was lucky enough to hit her. Good. The better to end this thing.
I head up. The relief from the fluid’s short lived. It stopped the fire but sweat from the pain dribbles down the side of my face and I blink it from my eyes. I can’t afford to muck around with tactics. I fly straight for Megs. All guns firing. The plan is straightforward. I’ll hit her before she hits me. It works.
I land a few seconds after her and have to wait a frustratingly long time to check she’s not hurt. The damage to my ship means it takes a few minutes for the tech guy to cut me out.
The hatch cracks open and his grinning head fills the space in front of me. “You won, bro,” he shouts. “You didn’t just win but you beat Megs.”
Is that awe in his voice? A flush of triumph dulls my pain. “Is she okay?”
He chuckles. “She wishes she didn’t bring you along.” He
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