Free Gamers' Quest by George Ivanoff Page B

if this'll work,’ said Zyra. ‘But it's all we's got.’
    ‘Wot?’
    ‘Puts the sword o’ light into the airlock.’
    ‘The wot?’
    ‘That room,’ said Zyra. ‘And power it up.’
    Tark drew the sword, slid open the panel on its hilt and hit the recharge button. It flared into life. The sword o’ light stayed in his hands. For the first time, Tark felt like he really owned it – as if it approved of him. And now he had to let it go. He felt a pang of loss as he put it down on the floor in the airlock.
    As Tark stepped out, Zyra slammed the inner door shut and poised her hand over the airlock controls.
    ‘I just hopes this here is the rights button,’ she said, thumbing it.
    With a whoosh of escaping air, the sword o’ light was sucked out of the airlock, straight into the Fat Man's starfighter. It sliced through the fuel tank's outer casing like a knife through butter.
    Tark and Zyra reeled with the shock of the resulting explosion.
    ‘Creative enough for ya?’ shouted Zyra as she was thrown back.
    Their surroundings melted away and then they were once again hanging in the grey, crackling static. And the disembodied voice was talking.
    ‘Payment calculated. Access to Designers Paradise granted for sixty-three hours, seventeen minutes, three seconds. Avatars?’
    Tark and Zyra looked at each other, smiles spreading across their faces.
    ‘Tina Burrows.’
    ‘And John Hayes.’
    ‘Game environment?’
    ‘Suburbia.’
    Tark reached out and took Zyra's hand.
    Memories came flooding back – friends, family, school, shopping … ice-cream. As these experiences solidified in their minds, it was as if they had always been there – had never been taken away.
    The static dissipated – as did Tark and Zyra.

PART TWO: SUBURBIA

14: An Ideal Life?
    John Hayes and Tina Burrows were standing side by side in the most mundane of suburban surroundings – uniform, weatherboard houses with neat front yards and white picket fences, clear blue sky, the scent of spring flowers on the gentle breeze, birdsong in the distance. Perfection!
    ‘We made it,’ said Tina.
    ‘Yes,’ agreed John with relief. ‘We beat the Fat Man at his own game.’
    ‘Oh, I hope so John. I really hope so. But I can't help worrying. After all, it was his game. What if he had a way out? What if …’
    ‘Shhh.’ John put a finger to her lips. ‘He's gone. It's all gone. We're here now. And this is what's real. At least for the time being.’
    He stroked the back of his hand gently down her cheek as he gazed at her – with her long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, her pale green eyes, her smooth unblemished skin, and the absence of any piercings. He pulled back his hand and ran it over his own face and through his thick, wavy hair. No scars. That's what he liked best about his appearance in Suburbia. No scars. That, and the fact that he was just a little taller than Tina.
    Their old lives were just distant memories. Suburbia felt like their true home. It was as if John and Tina were their true selves, whereas Tark and Zyra were merely avatars.
    Tina giggled as she twirled on the spot and looked down at her clean, beautiful, fashionable clothes – a white blouse, a pale blue skirt, knee-high white socks and black leather shoes with silver buckles.
    ‘How do I look?’ she asked, smiling.
    ‘Gorgeous,’ answered John, with a laugh. He was just happy that his jeans, T-shirt and runners were clean and without holes. ‘Absolutely gorgeous!’
    John smiled and leaned forward until his lips gently pressed against hers. How he had longed for this moment. A simple kiss! Something they were forbidden from doing in their own world.
    They slipped their arms around each other and hugged.
    Beep, beep!
    The school bus pulled up alongside of them, its yellow doors swishing open.
    Holding hands, John and Tina climbed aboard. There were calls of ‘Hello’, ‘Hi’ and ‘How've you been?’ as they walked down the aisle past the other