Wildcard (Warcross #2)(20)
Of course, as with everything else down here, playing Darkcross comes with its own unique risks. Unlike Warcross played legally, where the only consequence of losing a game is your money and your ego . . . the patrons of Dark World teams are a dangerous crowd to disappoint. If you lose enough Darkcross games, you might see your own name up on the assassination lottery list. I remember one Darkcross player who was found hanging in his garage, his body bloodied and broken, and another who was pushed in front of a train.
“Several teams lost their players after the algorithm triggered,” Zero goes on as we move to a different part of the den. Here, the room is darker and emptier, some distance away from the others and partially separated by a film of light that acts like a curtain. “Of course, this has just made the betting all the more exciting and unpredictable.”
“Is that what we’re down here for? The games?” I look at him. “I thought you were going to show me how to break into Hideo’s mind.”
“We are.” Zero nods. “And I am.”
“How?”
“We recently uncovered a glitch in Hideo’s Link system. The same system that allows two people to communicate through their thoughts. The glitch only appears if you and I are Linked during a game of Warcross.”
I suck in my breath. “What kind of glitch?”
“During a regular Link session, you have to get permission from the other person in order to access any of their thoughts. But during Warcross, with the right hack, this glitch allows you into that person’s mind and memories without their consent.”
A glitch that lets you into your Linked partner’s mind. I imagine a stranger’s cold claws piercing my thoughts and memories, me powerless to stop it. How in the world did Zero find a glitch this huge?
Zero smiles at my confusion. “Even the biggest companies in the world aren’t that secure,” he reminds me.
No wonder we’re here. And no wonder Zero has wanted to Link with me. I stare up into his black helmet, suddenly feeling very exposed.
Zero brought me here to play a game of Warcross while Linked.
A slight buzzing tickles my ears. It’s the same sound I’d heard back during the Warcross championships, when Zero first interrupted my underwater game with the Phoenix Riders. A clicking sound makes me look down. I’m now encased in dark armor of my own, crimson-red plates in contrast to Zero’s black. No doubt that if I were looking at myself, I would see my face hidden behind a helmet.
Then the Pirate’s Den vanishes, and I find myself standing in a Warcross world.
I’m going to play against Zero, one on one.
8
A one-on-one game of Warcross is called a Duel. It’s the same game as Warcross itself, except without a team to back you up—and without a team, everything falls onto your shoulders. You are the Captain, Architect, and Thief. You are the Fighter and Healer.
I’ve watched Duels in the Dark World before, but I’ve never played in one. And down here, where screwing up in a game could endanger my life, I’m not feeling good about my chances.
Already, a crowd of gamblers has gathered around, and an announcer has started to take bets for and against each of us. I find myself wondering if anything will happen to me if I lose this game. Just how much do I trust Zero to demonstrate getting into my mind? What if he damages my account permanently? It seems like a lot of trouble to bring me here just for that . . . but it’s hard to be sure of anything with him.
Our Duel’s virtual world is a night setting. Sheets of stars sweep the skies, while streaks of pink and purple linger at the horizon, an image of the minutes right after sunset. Hundreds of giant glass archways curve through the air, each of them reflecting the light. When I look down at my feet, I realize with a start that I’m not standing on solid ground at all—but on the back of a creature. A moving creature.
A dragon. As long as a whale.
Its scales are illuminated with glowing neon stripes, and its wings are haloed in gold light, as if it were a robot. And when I look closer, I realize that the scales beneath my feet aren’t organic, but metallic.
I fall to my knees as the beast arches its enormous neck and lets out a column of fire from its mechanical jaws, outlining the clouds below us. Its shriek echoes across the world.
“Welcome to the Dragon’s Nest.” A voice reverberates overhead. Familiar, glowing power-ups materialize in the air, lighting up the evening with their colors—and at the same time, a selection of weapons appears in front of me.
Rope. Knives. Dynamite. Gun. Bow and arrows. Shield.
It’s a selection of the weapons that each Warcross team player would have, and I’m allowed to choose three of them to hang on my belt. A timer counts down above it. I have ten seconds. My mind whirls, and I grab for what’s familiar to me. The rope. The dynamite. Then I remember that I can’t just be an Architect—this isn’t a game where Roshan can protect me. So I put back the dynamite and grab for the shield and the bow and arrows right before the selection vanishes.
I clip on the silver shield armguards, then swing the arrows over my back and loop the bow across my chest. The gun might be useful, but if I’m on a dragon, then Zero probably will be, too, and I might need a way to swing up onto his. Rope and a bow will be my best bet.
My dragon swoops toward the closest glass arch to us. I look around for Zero, but see him nowhere. Even as a chant goes up from the Blackcoat spectators, indicating the start of the game, I’m still gliding alone through the air. Reflections from the arches throw me off. I whirl, thinking Zero’s behind me, but there are only more clouds.