The Great Game

If you’re new to the Great Game, please have a quick look at the blurb to your left, where you’ll find a short catch-up introduction.

“At last,” he said, the relief audible. “I was beginning to think you were going to be fucking useless. At least four. Ransom, George Cho, Martin Lucas, and one of the cleaners. For sure. No idea how many others. But not you. Although I had my suspicions, until the lab guys cleared you.”

“Who or what are they?”

“Absolutely no idea. Are you in?”

I mulled it all over for a bit, and groaned quietly. “Look, maybe you’d better spell it out for me first.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then the guy sighed in resignation. “If you insist.”

I heard a rustling, and then a couple of seconds later, a metallic clank vibrated unpleasantly through my skull. The pressure on the right side of my face vanished. I wiggled my head experimentally, then turned so I could actually see my companion properly. He was sitting in a tiny plastic chair, looking vaguely ridiculous in his bland grey suit. He had a solid chin that went with his voice, and slightly alarming eyebrows. It looked like he was in fairly good shape for a fifty-something.

“Thanks,” I said.

He grunted. “You identified ten of them heading into various cities. There were at least six more here — the one who shot up your team, the four we know of for certain at your office, and possibly whatever it was the Ransom-thing sent you to check out a few hours ago. That’s twenty. From talking to your former colleagues’ neighbours, we suspect that they all started out using the same template.”

“Hallet.”

“Quite. We were lucky. They’ve been sloppy about the bodies. If a local patrol hadn’t investigated the stench from Lucas’ apartment, we’d never have suspected a thing.”

“So you killed everyone.” I did my best to keep my voice reasonable. It didn’t really work.

“Of course not.” He sounded dismissive, rather than wounded. “We waited until outside main hours, and brought in everyone we could catch alone — off-duty or whatever. We’re working through them now, testing them. We had to take down the building, though. We had no idea whether there were any tricks waiting for us, and we couldn’t afford to risk anyone slipping away if we came in gently. Survivors will be tested too.”

“I see,” I said.

He snorted. “I hope so. We’re not fucking around with this, Taylor. We’re taking it very seriously indeed. Twenty might just be the tip of the iceberg. There may have been other templates, too.”

“And you don’t know anything about them.”

“Not a thing. The four bodies we have all seem virtually identical to their originals so far. There’s a trace chemical marker which they’re missing, apparently, which is how come we’re having this little chat.”

“Why me?”

“You were sent on the disastrous raid, and didn’t get killed. You spotted the template’s diaspora. You are known to have been at that fucking alley. You had the sense to drop out of sight. Damn it man, you’re our pet expert.”

I frowned. “But I don’t know anything!”

“NEITHER DO WE,” the chap bellowed. He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. “Don’t be an obtuse shit, Taylor. We don’t know what they want. We don’t know who they are. We don’t know their numbers.  We don’t even know for sure whether they’re from here or not, and frankly that should scare the crap out of you. It certainly does me. You’ve seen them, chatted to them, fought them. Who else is there?”

A thought hit me. “The finger!”

The man flushed red, and his eyes actually bulged slightly.

“No, wait,” I said quickly. “Relax. Do you have the body from the alley?”

“So there was a body. No.”

That was worrying. “Well, I took a sample. It’s in my trouser pocket, in my handkerchief.”

The man’s face lit up. “Great God! Wait here.” He leapt up and dashed off somewhere before I could even reply, leaving me strapped to the bed. A couple of minutes later he was back, looking happier than before. “Marvellous work, man. Knew you’d be useful. I’m Travis. We’ll bump you up to LT; once you’re finished here, come on up and you can help us try to fix this mess. Alright?”

“Okay…” I began.

“Good choice,” said Travis. He bustled out.

Eventually, someone unstrapped me, and left me my clothes. As I finished dressing, a pleasant-looking medical guy knocked at door to my little room, and came in.

“Good morning,” he said brightly.

“Hi. Uh, what time is it?”

“Ten forty-five. How are you feeling?”

I felt fine. “Fine, thanks.”

He nodded. “Good. There won’t be any negative effects, so don’t worry.”

“There won’t?”

“No.”

“Ah. Right.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“The Colonel gave you your instructions, I assume?”

“Travis?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes,” I replied. I was starting to feel a little out of my depth.

“Right,” said the chap. “Well, if there’s nothing else.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!”

Today’s photo is My Hospital Room by Jodi Marr.