The Game Read Free Page B

into the
helmet. It's a little disorienting at first but I promise you, it's
everything you would ever dream of in a flight
simulator.”
    Above the buttons on the console is a computer
screen. A message flashes, declaring: upload
complete .
    “ Now what?” He’s ready to try
it.
    “ First, let me get out and lock the
sphere’s entry hatch. Then you push the start button. You're a
smart kid, so I think you can figure out the controls in no time.
Have fun, I'm going to go back upstairs to call Mr. Ervin—I’ll be
back in a few minutes. If the game ends, just press the start
button again and you can start over, or press the trigger when the
game is over and the menu screen will display on the console and
you can upload another scenario. Got it?”
    “ Sure.” He’s ready for Singleton to
leave. All he wants to do now is to push that bright red
button.
    Singleton steps away from the cockpit, exits
the sphere, and closes the door behind him. When he’s a safe
distance from the sphere, he shouts, “Let ‘er rip,
Paul.”
    Paul presses the start button.
    When he first entered the warehouse, he was
under the impression that standard light fixtures illuminate the
room, but he quickly learns he’s wrong. As soon as he depresses the
button, darkness descends. When his eyes adjust, what’s before him
is beyond his wildest dreams—the blackness of space stretches out
forever—a dark curtain sprinkled with twinkling stars, purple
galaxies, and supernovas painted in bright splashes of reds,
oranges, and yellows. A large blue planet hovers to his right. To
his left, a bright red sun.
    The cockpit is no longer just a
cockpit—he’s now sitting atop a sleek star-fighter. The projected
image is flawless, seamlessly merging digital imagery with the
physical elements around him. He can even feel a gentle hum and
vibration through his seat as the simulated engines idly wait to
release their full energy.
    Paul gently nudges the flight control stick to
the right and the craft turns toward the blue planet. He pushes the
stick forward—the ship dives and the planet rises above him. He
pulls up, pointing the nose at the center of the planet. As the
fighter approaches, the planet looms larger—almost filling his
entire view. He rocks his feet gently on the foot pedals and the
craft banks first left, then right. He pushes the flight control to
the left and depresses the left pedal, sending the craft into a
tight spin. The planet spins before him, making him
dizzy.
    He pulls out of the spin and angles the craft
parallel to the planet’s surface. Between the hydraulic motion of
the cockpit and the dazzling visual effects, Paul has to remind
himself this isn’t real. Having only worked the controls for a
couple of minutes now, he’s amazed how quickly his mind has adapted
to the illusions around him.
    “ Warning, warning. Evasive
maneuvers!”
    The synthetic voice is so loud and so close
that he jerks his head around, expecting to find some computer
generated woman standing near. Suddenly, the heads-up display built
into the helmet’s visor springs to life. In the clear plastic, a
transparent radar image appears. In the center is a triangle—he
assumes it’s a simple replication of the ship he’s flying—and
directly ahead of the triangle are four blinking, angry red dots.
They get closer with each passing second.
    “ Enemy fighters approaching,”
announces the ship’s onboard computer.
    Paul’s eyes snap forward. The sun’s light
reflects off four distant points ahead of him. Within seconds, the
points grow into large, dark grey ships. The four crafts buzz past
him with a deafening roar. He turns to look behind just as the
ships break away from each other, turn in unison, reverse course,
and then reestablish formation—directly behind Paul.
    Again, the system computer announces, “Evasive
maneuvers!”
    “ Okay, okay,” Paul shouts, as if the
computer understands him. Adrenaline rushes through his veins as if
injected