Gamerunner by B. R. Collins Read Free Book Online Page A

And then: How the hell did he do that? I’d only just moved . . .
    Not that it matters, right now.
    Herkules punches with his other hand, smiles at Rick’s desperate block, dodges his counter-punch smoothly, and swings the blade of his sword up and round, until it’s under Rick’s chin. It’s all so easy; like he was reading every move as it came, like he was hardly bothering to try.
    Oh, gods, Rick thinks, he’s going to kill me. And then Daed will kill me, too.
    ‘So you’re one of the Alpha Omega, are you?’ Herkules says.
    ‘Yeah,’ Rick says. He wants to close his eyes, but it seems cowardly, somehow.
    Herkules laughs. ‘Sure you are. I’ll look you up. What’s your name? You might as well tell me. When I kill you your account will be wiped anyway.’
    ‘Athene,’ Rick mutters.
    ‘Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl.’
    But he doesn’t answer. He stares into the expensive high-cheekboned face and wonders why Herkules doesn’t just kill him. In the Assassins they call it Bondvillain Syndrome: the need to gloat, the subconscious need to give your victim a few more minutes of life. A weakness: you can lose a fight that way.
    Or win it, Rick thinks; if you’re the victim.
    ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘You’re not too bad-looking yourself.’ There’s something in his left hand: the other dagger. His arm is hanging limply at his side, and he wouldn’t have time to do anything before the sword blade went into his throat. But it’s interesting. It sets something off in Rick’s mind: a mental itch, the beginning of a plan.
    Herkules frowns. He’s clearly not used to people being polite, before he kills them. ‘Er . . .’ he says. ‘Right.’
    That’s good, Rick thinks. I’ve surprised him. He doesn’t know what I’m thinking. There might still be a chance . . .
    What would Daed do?
    Herkules says, ‘How come you got this far?’
    ‘In the Roots? Oh. Well. I’m good.’
    ‘No one’s that good. Who’s your Cheat?’
    Rick takes a second to understand: the translation program again. He opens his mouth to say ‘No one’, then hesitates. The sword blade hovers in front of his larynx, and the enemy in range signal is so strong it hurts. He says, slowly, ‘Daedalus.’
    ‘ Daedalus? Don’t wind me up, you little —’
    ‘I’m not winding you up. How do you think I got here?’
    ‘Daedalus isn’t real , you silly girl. Daedalus is a myth.’ Herkules laughs. ‘Look around. You think one person could create this? It takes hundreds of designers, years of work, player feedback, and a hell of a lot of of AI code to create this. Daedalus is just a convenient idea. Not a person.’ He tilts his wrist, ready to strike, and grins. ‘So don’t muck me around.’
    ‘It’s true.’ Rick’s pushing it; any moment now he’ll get that sword through his throat. ‘I’m from Crater. Daedalus —’ He swallows. What would Daed do? Think . . . ‘Daedalus is a friend of mine, one of the designers. He sells cheats on the black. I had to give him a couple of grand for this. But it’s risk-free. Whoever your Cheat is, Daedalus is better.’
    ‘So how come you’re the one with a sword pointing at you?’
    Rick tries to smile. ‘Good point. But if you kill me I’ll just come back tomorrow. After I’ve reported you to a GM.’
    The bluer-than-blue eyes narrow. ‘How can cheats be risk-free?’
    ‘Crater turn a blind eye. Because it’s him. Daedalus. He can do what he wants, as long as he goes on working for them. A few cheats running here and there — who cares? As long as he’s still on their side.’ Rick’s talking too fast; but it’s OK, the translation program will cover it.
    ‘I don’t believe you.’
    It takes every ounce of self-control Rick has to shrug; but he manages it. ‘Fine. Kill me.’ He tilts his head back, as if he’s bored, surrendering himself for the coup-de-grâce. ‘Herkules404, isn’t it? Exploiting a bug . . . or commissioning a Cheat . . . the GMs won’t