Page 98 of Tapeworld Induction

Her hands explored his chest, every movement setting off a rippling shockwave of sensation, her fingers like electricity. She started to pull his shirt off.

“Wait…” He leant his forehead to hers, arms wrapped around her waist. The scent of her was intoxicating. A knot lodged in his throat. His face flushed with heat. “Are you sure?”

Heads touching, her words the world’s most exclusive message, aimed at him: “I want you.”

She kept at her task. Her smile was the most beautiful sight of his life.

His heart rate jumped. His breath caught.

“I’m a little rusty,” he admitted.

She grinned. “We’ll soon take care of that.” She finished taking his shirt off. “You know, you’re not in half-bad shape, for someone out of the game.”

He laughed. “I’ll show you who’s out of shape,” he said, and busied his hands lifting off her dress.

She dug her nails into his chest, pushing him away.

He leaned back on the couch and saw stars in the night sky.

Lying in bed, their legs entwined, his mind raced. Going through a whole lifetime of shit – his mother who’d abandoned him, his deadbeat father he hadn’t heard from in years, Astrid. The crap he put Sacha through. Dylan.

She was sleeping, her head nestled on his chest. He caressed her shoulders with his fingertips, skin cool to the touch.

He was slowly realising how much she meant to him, this girl born of Apocalypse Revolutionaries. Dylan had guts. He hoped he had guts to match.

He kissed her head and turned to sleep neon-lit dreams.

35

Double-Barrel

Isaak

The four of them met in Dylan’s tape-space the next day. Rolling green hills, same as his place used to look before he added the volcano and darkened the colours. The temperature was nice and pleasant here, unlike IRL – which trended in the thirties by February – and his own tape-space, which felt like… well, a volcano.

Talia taped in from Sacha’s, Dylan from his place. It was the quickest way they had to communicate, but also dangerous. They had to move fast and be on the lookout for any of the black spheres or grey shapes. They huddled around a summoned desk, with three screens just like his.

“Here’s your sword back.” She tossed him the holstered weapon. He grabbed it in the air. Power surged through his arm, and a sense of responsibility.

“GK…”

Sacha and Talia gave him a quizzed look.

“This is the last thing Astrid had me steal before I quit,” he explained. “I never gave it to her. And the gig before that, I had a peek at the data.”

“And what did you find?”

“GK. Just those two letters. They were on the box this came in too. Whatever was on that file, it was related to this. Check it out.” He aimed away from the desk and flicked the sword-pistol to life, the blade quickly extending to its full length, the mounted gun barrel slipping into place.

“GUNKATANA MODEL XR01—”

“We spoke about this, Gunky,” Dylan said.

“Apologies, ma’am. I am Gunky. Pleasure to meet you both.” It was addressing their friends.

“Uh.. hi?” said Talia. “Never thought I’d be talking to a sword…”

“It’s not the only surprising thing that speaks. He gave me a talking cat too.” Dylan said it like it was the most normal thing. She didn’t tell them what else he’d made the cat do, but he was still hit with another pang of guilt for having spied on her.