Then, little by little, he either lured or abducted one champion after another and forced them to play his “Game.”
The Game was created as a guise, a make-believe reason for the wall to remain standing and for Game Control to take what it wanted from the outside sectors.
Over time, the powerful genes the gods had embedded in their chosen humans died out. Only a few were born any longer, and they were shadows of the champions who had been born before them. As a result, the wall grew weak and those inside of it very slowly aged.
Though he was still strong, the Game Lord was no longer a young man. The wall needed both “light” and “dark” leaders to work; it needed champions of both Loki and Ullr – fire and ice. For the most part, those leaders no longer seemed to exist.
An obvious and incredible exception was Victor Black, the strongest champion of Ullr to ever have been born. Another exception, born a miraculous four hundred years later, was Rose Tyrnan, Loki’s champion.
Odin foretold both of their births, and he foretold of their eventual joining. It was to be the gods’ salvation.
Humans saving gods, Loki thought. The irony of it brought the smile back to his face.
When Victor Black was born, Odin took action to make certain that what he’d foreseen would come to pass. He sent Thor into the Field in the guise of a Gamer. Thor begrudgingly agreed. He chose a disguise that suited him well and played his part, fooling Game Control into accepting him onto the same team as Victor Black.
Once he was on the Playing Field, Thor became even weaker than he had been in Valhalla and far less powerful than the gods that waited for him there. But he was strong enough.
For hundreds of years, he maintained his position, even coming to befriend Black as they played out their farce of a wretched Game and Thor awaited the female half of the prophecy that Odin had foretold.
Twenty-five years ago, she at last came.
Rose had been born the twin sister to another champion of Ullr, one that Game Control would have labeled a dark leader had she survived and been put to work on the Field. But Andromeda Tyrnan did not survive Game Control’s “collection process.” Only Rose did.
As unfortunate as Andromeda’s loss had been, Rose’s power was a literal “godsend,” and it greatly strengthened the wall, once more insuring it would continue to work for centuries to come.
Loki wasn’t always overly fond of his brute of a stepbrother Thor, but he had to admit that when the time came for action, Thor delivered. The god had done a fantastic job planting the idea of rebellion into Victor Black’s head.
And he’d done an equally good job of planting the idea to accept Black’s challenge into the head of Victoria Red.
Of course, the only suggestion Thor had made to Victor’s unconscious mind concerned overthrowing Game Control. The bit about Red having to spend a night in Black’s bed was completely Victor’s doing. Not that Loki could blame the man. After all, she was gorgeous; the fire god himself was in love her twin sister.
“You’d better get back to it, Loki. Make sure that once they’ve regained their memories, those two get together without killing one another.” Odin sat back in his throne, closed his one good eye, and sighed heavily. He looked tired, but it was deceptive. He was a fussy, cranky curmudgeon of a god. But he was the All Father all the same.
And as soon as Rose Tyrnan and Victor Black melded their powers and defeated Game Control, the world would know it once more.
Loki chanced a glance at Andromeda. As if she could feel the weight of his fiery gaze, she glanced back. He smiled. It was a promise of a smile.
Pay him no heed sweet one, he told her. I’ll take you to see your sister.
Odin’s one eye flew open and he pinned the fire god with its glare. “You think that just because I’m sitting here with my good eye shut, I can’t damn well see you?” Odin shouted.
The gods in the room grew very still.
“I can! And I can damn well hear you too! For fuck’s sake Loki, I’m the All Father! I know everything!” He shook his big head and sighed again, sitting back once more. Instantly, the other gods relaxed too.
“Oh very well,” he finally acquiesced. “Go to your sister, Andromeda. But try not to give our champion a damn heart attack.” He paused and then added, “Not that you will. I would know if you were going to. I know everything.” He closed his eye and at last seemed to rest.
Andromeda turned wide, golden eyes on Loki. He gave her a reassuring smile.
At once, she smiled back. She was going to see her sister after more than a decade. He could feel her excitement, anxiety and anticipation from across the open room.
Come my love. He sent the words into her mind. Rose has been asleep long enough.
* * * *
Victor stepped over the bodies, his black boots easily clearing the small pools of blood that collected beneath them. Four GC guards had been waiting for him. It wasn’t enough. It was too easy.
There were sure to be more, but where?
Victor opened his mental feelers and searched for the signals of other minds.
The TGB was empty. Game Control must have cleared it out and sent everyone to their respective towers. But why?
It hit him. They’d most likely done so when Maxwell Blood reported in. He was working for them after all.
He could understand GC’s concern. They wanted to lose as few people as possible in this impending scuffle, and Victor obviously wasn’t going to be in the mood to go easy on anyone. So they’d left a small contingent of guards at the transporter cube entrance, hoping it would be enough to take him by surprise. Everyone else, they’d protected by sending away.
Victor turned the corner into a second hall. This one sectioned off Rooms one through 22. The lights were out further down the aisle. The Rooms were silent.
If Victor had been a light leader, he would’ve been capable of producing a flame to light the way. But ice was a cold and dark boon, and he was forced to make his way through a corridor as black as his name.
He stopped, sensing something just up ahead. Two somethings, rather.
It was two minds, their thoughts slowly opening to him. He recognized them at once, and his brow furrowed in frank confusion.
A burst of light suddenly lit up the corridor, temporarily blinding Victor.
“Well it’s about damn time, Black,” John Storm drawled as Victor blinked the blurriness out of his vision.
“Storm, what the hell are you doing here?” Victor lowered his arm and found his team captain standing a few yards away. At his booted feet were half a dozen GC guards. In Storm’s hand was the massive double-sided hammer he always used in combat. Victor felt bewildered – grateful – but bewildered.
“Wow, you were right, Storm. That was easy.” Simon Roon, the Red team player, stood behind Storm, eyeing the bodies on the floor. He adjusted the glasses he insisted on wearing despite the fact that corrective surgery had long been available for poor eyesight. “Will they be okay?” he asked.
“Unfortunately yes,” Storm replied, nudging one of the fallen men with his boot. “MRU healers are on their way right now.” The gray-eyed man looked up at Victor, who was still too baffled to say much of anything. Storm being there was surprising enough. Storm having arrived before Victor and taking out six guards on his own was doubly perplexing. But that he’d done all of this and, at the same time befriended the Red team genius, was positively mystifying.
“You look a tad sick, Black.” Storm was smiling. His eyes flashed as if lightning had struck in their depths.
Victor looked from him to Simon and back again.
Finally, deciding that GC’s clearing of the premises and their posting of the guards had been a tip-off for Storm. And he also decided that he didn’t really care how or why Storm and Simon were there. He would pick his battles and count his blessings.
He straightened. “I take it you’re both in.”
Simon pushed his glasses high up on his nose, his hazel eyes bright and intelli
gent behind the glass. “Storm told me what was going on. I’m on your side, Black. I haven’t trusted Game Control for some time.”
Victor considered him for a moment. There was no deception in Simon’s mind. “Very well,” Victor said. “We need to get to the Medical Research Unit and then to the TRF. Blood’s gone after Victoria and Game Control is backing him.”
“Aye, the shit’s hit the fan then, hasn’t it?” Storm laughed a hearty, booming laugh that seemed louder than normal and jammed the handle of his hammer back into the leather loop on his belt. “This ought to get interesting.”
Chapter Seventeen
Victoria came awake with a start, the memories that flooded her mind feeling like a nest of bees in her head. They swarmed and pulsed with every beat of her heart. She was out of breath, covered in sweat. Confused.
Scared.
In the back of her mind, there was that voice like dead leaves scratching across a dry grass landscape. Victoria remembered the woman now. She opened her eyes and turned a terrified gold gaze on the shriveled old lady. She knew well who the woman was.
“Beth,” Victoria whispered, her own voice nearly as dry as her nanny’s had become.
Elizabeth smiled gently, showing that at least her teeth were still good. Her once-blue eyes had lost their vivid hue and were rimmed with the red of many shed tears. Her ancient form quivered with emotion. “Don’t fuss little Rose. Stay put dear.” She touched a damp rag to Victoria’s forehead and brushed tangled, golden locks from her face. Victoria tried to swallow away dry lump that had formed in her throat. It went down grudgingly, forcing her to cough.
“Here, drink.” Elizabeth put down the rag and picked up a metal goblet. Victoria caught the faint scent of wine as the old woman lifted the glass to her lips.
She drank; she was too thirsty not to. As she had trouble getting the liquid into her mouth without spilling it, she realized that she too was trembling.
She was shaking because of those bees, those incessant buzzing memories that throbbed and gathered and whirred. They were making her crazy.
I can’t hold it all, she thought. It’s too much.
And suddenly, without warning, she was sobbing. They were big, hard, soul-shattering sobs. She broke there in that bed, beneath the weight of the past. She shattered under the immense pressure of her sister’s death, of her mother’s screams, of the pain that had wracked her body as the machines of Game Control relentlessly wiped her mind.
Elizabeth put down the goblet and let her cry. Her own tears were the silent kind that came with age and the luxury of having already had the time to mourn. So Victoria cried out enough for the both of them.
That pain stretched from her mind to her soul, ripping a deep and jagged chasm across her very being. She saw her twin sister with blood spilling from the side of her throat and gold eyes that would never open again. She witnessed the unnaturally still body that she knew was no longer breathing and that housed a heart no longer beating.
And at once, Victoria wanted her own heart out of her body. She wanted it gone; it hurt too much. She tossed the covers off of her and threw back her head, howling at the ceiling of the small cottage. She screamed at the heavens beyond, railed against the agony that was claiming her, holding her fast in its vicious, unforgiving claws.
“I could have healed her! If they would have let me go, I could have healed her!”
It went on forever. Forever and ever and longer, still. She cried until her body was raw and her mind was a strange and blessed blank. Then, at last, the wailing stopped.
Elizabeth held her in her ancient, withered arms, rocking her slowly back and forth.
At length, Victoria realized she was mumbling, murmuring, crying the same words over and over into Elizabeth’s tear-soaked dress. “Meeda….” It had been her nickname for Andromeda.
Elizabeth smoothed her hair and silently allowed the anguish to leak away as it was meant to do.
It was a long while before Victoria was at last able to pull away from her nanny and again look into her old and weary eyes. It didn’t hurt any less now, not really. But Victoria was tired and empty, and for now that would have to do.
“My sweet child,” Elizabeth said. “I never thought I would see you again. I am afraid I’m already dead and this is a dream.”
Victoria made a sound half laugh and half sob that cracked because she had little voice left. She shook her head. “Me too, Beth. Me too.”
* * * *
When Max stepped out of the transporter cube with a dozen men behind him, Ty was not expecting the company. He and April backed up, and Ty had his crossbow in his hand in record time. April drew her short sword a mere second later.
“What the –” Ty blinked at Max, his gaze shooting from the GC guards to his captain in frank confusion.
Max held his hands up in placation. “Easy, Ty. GC granted us the temporary help because Victoria is as precious to them as she is to us.” He nodded to the men behind him, who were staring at Ty and April with something between indifference and distaste. They were dressed in the gray and tan leather uniforms of Game Control, their swords still in their scabbards, their GC issue Game bands gleaming in gold and black metal on their wrists. “These guys are here to help if Black gets nasty.”
The GC guards differed slightly in hair and eye color, but because they were dressed the same, wore the same expressions, and were approximately the same height, it gave the impression they were carbon copies of one another. They were a military unit comprised of many, but equaling one.
It was disconcerting to Ty. They vaguely reminded him of a collective of ants or worker bees. Mindless.
Drones.
“Okaaay,” he muttered, still unsure. His right hand continued to grip the crossbow tightly. “So explain the geek freak.” He nodded toward the Arthur that stood directly beside Max. It was Arthur One. His white uniform was too white, his pristine hair, nails and shoes were too pristine. He looked like one of the robots he was always working on.
Ty didn’t like the Arthurs all that much, but he especially didn’t like Arthur One. They had history, in a manner of speaking. That is to say, Arthur One was a letch – and Ty wasn’t.
But now, Arthur One simply blinked at him and cocked his head to one side. His expression was quite different from the usual smirk of aversion he wore when around Ty Murrey. In fact, it wasn’t a smirk at all. It was a look of puzzlement and uncertainty. He was staring at him, in fact, as if he didn’t even know who Ty was.
Ty’s brow knit.
“He’s been rehabilitated,” Max said.
Ty glanced at his captain. Max shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I have no idea what that’s all about. But whatever problem you two had with each other, you no longer have. We need his help and I expect you to let him do his job. Got it?”
Max was back in captain mode again, so Ty nodded. It was easy for him to automatically fall into rank. It was what he’d been trained to do. They were a tight troop, the Red team, because Victoria had taught them well. She was good at training a company of Gamers and she’d been given some of the best Gamers to work with.
April put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He glanced over at her, but she was looking at Max. “Where is Victoria?” she asked.
“She’s been tracked to a small border town on the edge of Ocanus, which isn’t far from here.”
“How was she tracked?” April asked.
Max’s blue gaze swiveled to her and pinned her to the spot. “It isn’t important. It’ll take us approximately twenty minutes to get there if we leave now.” He looked at Ty again. “Murrey, I want you to take this and try to talk to her first in case she doesn’t trust me.”
He handed Ty a small red device. It had a blinking green light on it and a single black button. “What is it?” he asked, turning it over in his hand. He looked up. “And why wouldn’t she trust you?”
“Like I said, she may have been brainwashed by Black. Who knows what he’ll force her t
o believe? He’ll figure out that I’m coming for her, and at the very least, he’ll attempt to drive a wedge between us.” He focused on the device. “This is a base bomb. Get it near Victoria and press the button. It’ll knock her out for thirty seconds. It’ll be enough time for you to restrain her with these.” He held his hand out to Arthur One.
The techie placed a set of leather bracelets in his hand. In turn, Max held them out to Ty.
“And what are those?” Ty asked, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by everything Blood was throwing at him.
“These are neutralizing bracelets. I believe you’ve heard them referred to as ‘saps.’ Place them around Victoria’s wrists and it will neutralize her powers so we can get her back to GC headquarters.”
Ty took the hesitantly took the bracelets and placed them in the pocket of his uniform jacket. “Is any of this stuff going to hurt her?” He glanced down at the base bomb again. “How does this thing work?”
“Victoria possesses a tracking device in her blood stream. This sends out a pulse signal that is answered by that device. The signal travels to her brain and instantly puts her to sleep. It won’t hurt her,” Max explained.
“Why does she have a tracking device in her blood stream?” April asked.
Ty had been about to ask the same thing.
“Again, that isn’t important right now,” Max said. “What is important is separating her from Victor Black and getting her back inside the wall before any more damage is done.”
Ty took a deep breath and sighed. He placed the base bomb in his pocket. “What about Victor?”
Ty could have sworn the vivid blue of his captain’s eyes grew ominously brighter.
Blood’s powerful gaze narrowed. “Leave him to me.”
* * * *
Even as Max led his makeshift retrieval team deeper into Sector 3, he wondered how much of her memory Victoria, or Rose Tyrnan, had recovered. If she hadn’t recalled much yet, then there might be a chance that he could talk to her, even convince her to come back to the Field with him.
But if she remembered everything, she might not trust him at all. She would put two and two together and realize that he was working for Game Control, whom she would hate for killing her sister and taking her from her parents.