Arcade game

There was only one change in the data room, but it was a major one. The tables and chairs which had been at the centre of the room had been taken out, and whilst the computers still clicked away tirelessly, pride of place was given to an enormous video games machine – seven feet tall, as wide as two ordinary machines, with a huge screen, curving almost from over the head off the player back to its base. The effect created was that of a head-up display which might be found on a very sophisticated space shuttle, or a very basic starship.

The machine breathed shiny and new at everyone who looked at it, and many were looking at it at the moment.

All the senior staff of the Mandarin’s several establishments were there – a dozen and a half of the finest technological brains in the industry, all in their white coats, all waiting... The low murmur of conversation died and floated away as Stefan heralded the entrance of the Mandarin, who crossed straight to the machine and looked at it with fatherly pride.

‘Beautiful,’ he breathed, ‘beautiful...’ There were congratulatory smiles all round. ‘All is well?’ he asked of the assembled company. Yatsumoto spoke for all.

‘The prototype performs perfectly, Lord.’ He smiled with smug satisfaction.

‘You’ve tried it?’ queried the Mandarin with polite surprise.

‘In its component parts, honoured Lord,’ modified the technician, ‘there is no error –’

‘But you haven’t actually played the machine?’ The Mandarin’s insistence on an exact answer was no whim.

‘I understood that honour was to be reserved for your esteemed guest – ‘ Yatsumoto looked around him, unsure of his master’s mood.

‘To the victor, the spoils, Yatsumoto. You shall be the first to play.’ He started applauding softly, and the rest of the assembly joined in. Yatsumoto looked suitably flattered, but as much confused as anything. He could hardly refuse, and had yet to come across the western term ‘poisoned chalice’ in any of his technical manuals, but he sensed there was something wrong, some hidden purpose in the Mandarin’s offer. Why else the shudder of fear as he approached the shiny new toy?

(...)

The screen on the game machine was filled with a three-dimensional block outline of a city – an American city, judging by the skyscrapers – in wonderful detail. It seemed that the player could control his movement down the street by use of the control joystick in front of him. The city was deserted. As Yatsumoto directed himself around a corner, a burning car could be seen, smashed into another at the side of the street. Broken windows were everywhere, and the goods scattered on the pavement seemed to indicate a riot, or looting at any rate. As Yatsumoto drew nearer to the crashed cars, a heavy crunchcrunchcrunch noise started, and grew louder.

From behind one of the crashed cars a figure appeared, a green, or red, glowing figure, it was hard to tell which as it kept changing colour back and forth. As Yatsumoto moved towards the figure, so the figure moved towards him, then there was an arc of fire and a sound effect as Yatsumoto fired his weaponry. The figure glowed bright red and swelled and burst into a million electronic fragments.

Yatsumoto grinned broadly, ignoring the sweat trickling down his forehead. The score counter at the top of the screen flickered, registering the kill but, before he had time to gloat, the crunchcrunch noise started again, and another figure appeared from behind the burning car and lines of fire came at him, so effectively that he flinched. The screen lit up and jarred, and jarred again. This time he did flinch – it was impossible not to, and with the third shock registering on the screen, he couldn’t help looking at the Lives on the bottom line. He had started off with three.

Now there were two...

Grimly he set his mouth, and concentrated as the screen changed to show another part of the city. Yatsumoto did not look at all pleased. He was back at the start, and with one life less.

(...)

Yatsumoto was perspiring freely now, his hands at the controls tense and never still as he approached the burning cars once more. The crunchcrunch started again and, sure enough, the figure came out again, and sure enough met the same fate. This time Yatsumoto waited grimly for the second figure to show, and finished him off when he did.

Then he poured fire into the blazing cars for good measure, and sure enough a third figure leapt out, only to disappear in a constellation of exploding sparks... Nodding with satisfaction, the Japanese technician moved himself further along the street and around the corner to be met instantly by a deafening crunchcrunch and a red and green monster, almost upon him. There was a blaze of fire arcing towards him, the screen flashed one, two, three times, and he almost slumped at the controls.

The Lives indicator went down by one again.

Yatsumoto wiped the palms of his hands down his laboratory coat. Only one life left.

(...)

Yatsumoto was firing indiscriminately now, monsters exploding thick and fast around every corner. The crunchcrunch was everywhere, sometimes just in the background, sometimes almost next to his ear.

The lines of fire suddenly stopped arcing from his weaponry. Frantically he jabbed at the Fire button on the joystick and then he looked at the ammunition counter, a red line at the side of the screen with little green lines sticking up from it. There were no little green lines left.

From the left and the right, monsters appeared, firing as they did so. The ghost city was ablaze with gunfire and the crunchcrunch of approaching monsters. The lines of fire raced towards him, a hit, a hit, another hit... The screen flashed for the last time, and the monsters faded away, the noise receding to a distant but insistent crunchcrunchcrunch.

Yatsumoto looked shattered, slumped at the controls.

Then his attention was engaged as the crunchcrunch became louder and louder. He looked puzzled, then bewildered.

The game was over. He had lost. He had been playing under field-trial conditions, just as people would be soon, all over the world. The Mandarin smiled, the glint back in his eye. The crunchcrunch became louder and louder.

From the centre of the screen, lumbering down the street, came one of the electronic monsters, though no firing took place. The figure walked towards Yatsumoto, growing in size as he came.

Growing. And growing. And growing.

Yatsumoto stepped back from the machine instinctively.

The monster filled the screen. More than filled it.

‘Lord... Stop it, Lord, I beg you...’

The Mandarin watched, fascinated to see it all working.

The monster stepped out from the screen.

It grew before his eyes, reaching seven feet tall, thick set and heavily built on legs that were almost too squat for the enormous body, a body composed entirely of red and green crystals, hard, flat, angular surfaces like cut gemstomes, with two giant burning red rubies for eyes, and no other facial features at all.

It stood in the room, waiting. The other technicians had moved back as far as they could go and now stood also, terrified and horrified by the apparition. The monster moved its head and stood, staring balefully at Yatsumoto.

‘Help me, Lord... Save me!’ he screamed at the Mandarin.

‘But you lost, Yatsumoto,’ called the Mandarin over the rising crunchcrunchcrunch. ‘You lost.’

The monster turned and, implacably, advanced on Yatsumoto, who had nowhere to run. He backed up against a laboratory bench, head pressed back against one of his beloved computers. The monster advanced. The crunchcrunch became unbearable and Yatsumoto thrust his hands over his ears, as if by cutting out the sound he could make the monster go away.

But the monster stopped in front of him and, almost responding in kind, placed one of its giant hands on either side of Yatsumoto’s head. With some enormous discharge, a red electric arc leapt between the two hands and Yatsumoto’s body glowed red and green like the monster’s, then black and white as it went from positive to negative and back again. Then the hands came away and Yatsumoto slumped to the ground heavily, his coat smoking slightly where it touched the ground. The monster stood stockstill and the crunchcrunchcrunch faded away to nothing. The Mandarin came over to look and admire.

‘What a marvellous toy,’ he breathed.

***

The Nightmare Fair, Chapter 7