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

like it . . .’
    A pause. Rick stays still.
    ‘Does Daedalus . . . this Cheat, whatever . . . sell to anyone who can pay?’
    The sword blade hasn’t dropped; but there’s a tiny, tiny bit more space between Rick’s neck and the edge of the metal.
    ‘Yeah, if you can contact him. But he’s hard to get hold of. Has to be.’
    ‘So how would . . . how do you contact him?’
    Rick stops himself from laughing. Just. ‘I told you. He’s my mate. I meet him face to face, tell him what I want, where I want to go . . . how hard I want it to be, even. Sometimes it’s good to have a challenge. To know that even if I’m technically cheating, no one else could do what I’m doing. You understand.’
    Herkules’ eyes flicker, searching Rick’s face. He stares back, steady, because that’s the only thing the mimic program will render exactly.
    ‘He’s expensive, though? Daedalus?’
    ‘Not too —’ He stops, smelling the danger, and smiles. ‘Well . . . yeah. Sure. What do you expect?’
    Herkules frowns. ‘Suppose I . . . if this is true — and I’m not saying I believe you — how would, for example, how would I contact him?’
    ‘If you let me go, I’ll give you his real name.’
    The tip of the sword dips, wavers, slides absently away to the side, above Rick’s shoulder.
    One strike, he thinks. Just the one. One chance.
    The tension in Herkules’ sword-hand relaxes. ‘Yeah. Right. And how do I know this isn’t a —’
    Rick steps sideways and punches with his left hand, dagger blade straight into Herkules’ windpipe. There’s no resistance — the tank doesn’t sculpt PvP combat — so only his eyes tell him that he’s done it. He jumps back, because it would be stupid to get killed now, but there’s no need.
    Herkules goes straight down; his ghost stays where he was, the transparent face full of disbelief. He says, ‘. . . a trick?’
    There’s a five-second pause. Then the corpse starts to evaporate — as if this was an instance, and it was going to reappear outside . . . The way it would have done before, Rick thinks, if Herkules hadn’t been cheating.
    The ghost turns to watch it go, helpless, his expression turning to fury. His transparent fists clench. The translation program says, ‘Muck you, little female dog, muck you, muck —’
    Rick watches too. All that expensive armour, he thinks; all that expensive body-moulding, all that virtual beauty . . .
    Then the ghost disappears; not dissolving like the corpse, but gone cleanly, like a candle flame. Spat out of the dungeon, to the nearest soul-tree . . . no. Wait.
    Rick puts his dagger blindly back into his belt, suddenly trembling. That, he thinks, that was someone dying for real . Or nearly. The ghost hasn’t gone to a soul-tree; it’s been wiped. No resurrection for him.
    He says, ‘A trick? Honestly, the idea! Nice girl like me . . .’
    He’s done it. He’s won.

Chapter 6
    Rick drops to the floor and lies flat, staring up at the ceiling. Even that’s modelled perfectly. He starts to laugh.
    You have defeated Herkules404 in PvP combat. This account has now been closed, so the corpse is unavailable for looting. All items have been transferred automatically into your inventory.
    Oh. He’d forgotten about all that stuff. He says, ‘Open inventory,’ and watches the scroll unfurl against Daed’s beautiful ceiling. Armour — well, fat lot of good that was — winged sandals, which he already has and are overrated anyway, a sword, which should raise a decent sum at auction . . . hundreds of gilt, a library of maps . . . Gods, who cares, anyway? He can’t keep this stuff: now he’s got rid of Herkules, he’s got to kill himself. Well, Athene. And she’ll be wiped, just like Herkules, blinking out of existence, because when you die in the Roots . . .
    He wonders vaguely where Herkules got his cheat. It was a good one. Clever. He thinks: Hats off.
    He gets slowly to his feet. The euphoria has gone. He thinks: At least now I can