Page 74 of Tapeworld Induction

His swift movements guided their attacks towards each other, and soon the first two were dead.

The next two tried their luck, waving their weapons at him, and with the dexterity of a practised swordsman he sliced and diced until their pixel blood pooled in the snow.

The solivagant aimed his sword at the remaining grunt. The soldier ran at him with full force, morning star held high, belting out a war cry, clearing the distance between them at speed, not a glance wasted on the digital corpses of his comrades. At the apex of his swing, so close to the lone swordsman, the solivagant fired his weapon. The plastic bullet travelled out of the sword’s hilt, rushing past the top edge of the blade, speeding through its deadly tip.

It hit the soldier in the chest. The morning star flew into the air. His body crumpled to the ground.

Once again, blood painted the snow.

It was just him and the woman now, the one with the face he couldn’t place. The blue-on-blonde dyed hair looked so familiar.

She smiled, then raised her wakizashi and tanto in one quick motion.

The lone man slashed his own sword in the air. Blood arced onto the floor. Blade clean.

She dove at him. He readied himself, finger on the hilt-trigger, tip aimed at the base of her neck.

As he prepared to fire the Gunkatana, her expression changed from rage into fear and surprise.

His finger felt the metal of the trigger.

Darkness engulfed them both.

The boy was back in the living room. A hand moved away from the sleek black console, its light dead.

“No more games, Isaak. Go to your room!” his dad shouted.

A feeling swelled in the boy for which he didn’t have a word yet.

He’d come to call it… disappointment.

27

Haptics

Dylan

Sweat dripped down her forehead. It was a crisp morning, and the journey to the gym had been a welcome distraction from thinking about him. Isaak hadn’t replied to any of her texts yesterday. Outside the window, the monorail tracks. Every so often six-composite carriages passed by with a new wave of commuters. Behind the tracks, the London cityscape. Towering skyscrapers peppered with historical buildings.

Her stomach growled.

Fuck, I could eat a chicken right now. She shook her head and ran even faster.

Wait. What was that about meat?

She’d always loved animals. You couldn’t escape society’s fostering of a healthy relationship with every kind of living being. Not once had she ever eaten anything from any animal, her parents being religiously vegan. Going above and beyond the law imposed, they removed every trace of animal-sourced products from their lives. That was the environment she grew up in. The idea of eating a living being was a completely alien concept to her.

Yet here she was, running her socks off in the gym, and suddenly she wanted to eat a chicken? Like with peri-peri, the way it was served in old social media vids? The thought should have made her gag, but she only felt hungry. She tensed her abs, arms and legs in racing motion. Her legs hurt. But she kept going.

Dylan tried to stop thinking about it by concentrating on her rhythmic breathing, fixing her gaze on the horizon. The cars, the monorail, the birds flying high in the blue sky, the towers in the distance, glass gleaming in sunlight.

Her breathing sped up and her legs felt wobbly and she started losing her foothold on the treadmill. On sudden instinct, she jumped off the rolling track and into the side wells of the treadmill, hands holding the front bars tight.

That was close.

In the commotion, one of her earbuds fell out and rolled onto the floor. Great.

She took a deep breath, pushed the large red STOP button, and dismounted the treadmill, its rubberised plastic components shining with her sweat. She picked up the earbud and then, looking around nervously as if she might have committed a grave sin in the eyes of the other gym-goers, she went back to the treadmill to clean the machine off with her dark-green towel, muttering some made-up excuse to herself at the same time. As if anyone was actually listening or gave a damn about her mishap with the earbud or forgetting to clean the treadmill before she walked away from it.