Page 84 of Tapeworld Induction

Through the door walked Sacha. Dusty-blonde hair, a green bomber jacket puffing out his thin frame.

His pulse quickened and he furrowed his brows.

His teammate smiled and got closer. “You really did a number on us out there, Ike.”

Without knowing why, Isaak’s hand went to the side of his head. He scratched his temple. He hoped it made him look calm and collected, and not a complete nervous mess.

“You think? Have a look at that…” He gestured to his engorged knee.

Sacha’s mouth gaped open. “Holy fuck, bro.” He held onto the foot of the bed. “It looks serious. Have they told you anything?” He looked around but the nurse had already disappeared.

Isaak played it nonchalantly, giving a weak smile. “I’m sure it’ll get better quick.”

He stared at his friend and long-time team partner, and neither of them knew what to say. All that was left of the conversation was staring uncomfortably at each other. Finally, Isaak broke the awkward silence.

“I wasn’t expecting a visit from you. From anyone, really.”

Sacha leant closer to him. “Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t we? The whole team would have come if they could, but they’ll only allow one at a time. You know how hospitals are.”

“How are they coping?”

He crossed his arms. “Pretty upset we lost but… everybody’s just worried about you. Coach says take your time, get better soon.” He spoke with intention but his eyes were empty, like he was looking through Isaak.

“Any talk of a replacement?”

“We’ll just play without you,” Sacha said. “We’ll manage.”

There was a smile on Isaak’s face, but he could barely move, stunned into position as he realised that he’d likely be fired, and never play again professionally.

Sacha was trying to reassure him but he didn’t buy it. Being told to take his time, that they’d manage without him. He was already replaced – they were just making the transition easy for him.

The sport had been in trouble in recent months, diminishing interest after the novelty faded away. Virtual reality acrobatic shooting was just not as exciting anymore. It lacked the theatricality of biomod-enhanced wrestling. Entertainment lived on storylines. And for all their sporting talent, they lacked a storyline, an emotional gut punch. There wasn’t enough kayfabe to ReSports, no big personalities. Besides his.

Sacha went quiet, looking out the window.

From his position on the bed, Isaak couldn’t make out any more than a blue sky and bright sunshine.

“Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

Isaak recoiled in confusion. “Er, hello? Have you seen my knee?” What the hell was Sacha playing at?

Sacha clapped his hands.

Isaak looked down at his knee. The swelling was gone. Like it had just healed instantly.

What the fuck?

“Let’s go, Ike.”

A sharp sensation cut through him when Sacha called him that, like water dripping down his spine. His hand reached on instinct to the side of his head again. Why did he keep doing that?

“You won’t find anything there.” Sacha’s eyes were brighter now, as if modulated against the contrast of the blinding sun. “Come on, get out of bed.” A grin formed on his lips.

A disturbing thought grew slowly, slowly, in Isaak’s mind.

He got up, gritting his teeth, holding on to the bed.

He planted his good leg down, then tried the leg with the fucked-up knee.