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AndrAIa pulled herself from Matrix’s arms as gently as she could, praying
he wouldn’t wake. It was bad enough he’d come home drunk again. She didn’t
want to have to face him when he was hung over as well. She crept quietly
out of the old boarded up hotel they were currently staying in.
The building had probably
been condemned for hours, but in a system like this, finding someplace
relatively dry was the only concern. She pulled a long black cloak she’d
bought a few systems back closely around her, and kept her eyes to the
path in front of her. She kept her sensitive ears alert for any indication
that someone was following her, and continued on a route that had become
depressingly familiar over the last few cycles. They’d been trapped here
for a second and a half. Stuck in a system dying from neglect, it’s principal
office locked up tight as the Command System huddled inside, ignoring the
plight of those outside its shields. She longed to hear the distant rumble
and the automated warning that would signal the arrival of a game cube
that could take them away from this place.
An icy rain began to fall
from the overcast sky and even her cloak could no longer keep out the chill.
Almost reluctantly, she turned to head back the way she’d come to seek
refuge again in their room in the hotel.
True to form, he was gone when she returned. Apparently Frisket had gone with him, as there was no sign of the red dog. Breathing a small sigh of relief, and hating herself for it, she lay down on the bare mattress and pulled the ragged covers up around her chin for warmth. She’d catch a few milliseconds of sleep now while he was gone , then go out in search of a meal. If she was lucky, he’d be passed out in bed by the time she returned. But if this cycle was like the others, he’d still be gone when she came back. Or worse, he’d be waiting for her.
He lifted the glass again, barely tasting the cheap liquor as it burned
down his throat. All that mattered was the numbness it gave him. The brief
respite from his thoughts.
He’d lost a game, and this
time he couldn’t blame it on the inexperience of a small sprite. He’d been
doing this for more than seven hours now. Playing games was what he did.
And he’d lost.
What was worse, he’d lost because he’d been careless, cocky, so sure
of his victory...and because of him, people had lost their lives. That
was something he just couldn’t live with. He, AndrAIa, and Frisket were
the soul survivors of a game that had nullified everyone else because they
could cheat fate and leave with the game. At least when he’d lost
the game to Zaytan, they’d been the only ones in the game. Sure, he’d condemned
AndrAIa and Frisket to this abysmal game hopping, but at least they were
alive. If you could call this living. He took another swallow of his drink.
The thing that bothered
him the most was the fact AndrAIa didn’t seem to notice how wrong all this
was. Game hopping wasn’t any way to live. Then again, she was just a game
sprite. He should have expected as much from her. Her entire life before
she’d met him revolved around games. He frowned. As much as he knew he
loved her, sometimes her
naiveté really got on his nerves. And she was so...clingy. He
didn’t want to- didn’t deserve to be the most important thing in her life.
His frown deepened as he realized his glass was empty. He motioned to the
bar tender but the man gave him a single glance and shook his head.
“You’ve had enough, pal. Go home and sleep it off.”
His hand went instinctively for his gun, but he thought better of it at the last nano. If he shot the bar tender, there was no way they’d let him back in tomorrow.
“C’mon, Frisket,” he mumbled to the large red dog who lay at his feet.
He trudged out of the bar, cursed slightly at the falling rain, and headed
back to the old hotel.
“AndrAIa?”
No answer. Where in the ‘Net was she? “AndrAIa?” When silence again reached his ears, he cursed under his breath. She was supposed to be here for him... The part of his brain that wasn’t fogged with drink was reaching out for the one thing that made life worth living anymore. He sat down on a rickety chair, the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the mattress, to wait for her return.
“Enzo?” The soft voice woke him and he swore at the pounding in his head when he forced his eyes open. AndrAIa was standing in the doorway, long black cloak over her shoulders dripping with rain. Her aqua colored hair was plastered to her forehead and hung limply down her back. “I’m sorry,” she said instantly upon seeing the expression on his face.
“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have woken me up in the first place,” he growled, getting slowly to his feet. “You’re soaking wet! What in the ‘Net were you thinking, going out in weather like this? Are you *trying* to make yourself sick?” He yelled angrily, snatching the sodden cloak from her shoulders. She flinched away from him involuntarily as he brushed past her and wrung out the material in the hallway.
“I got hungry and you weren’t here. I just thought...”
“You didn’t think. You *never* think!” He grabbed her shoulders brusquely. “You’re freezing cold,” he commented, staring into her face.
The Anger AndrAIa saw burning there frightened her. She’d been scared
before, but never of him.
Not until now.
She bit her lip then flashed him a mischievous grin, trying desperately to distract him from his rage. “Then why don’t you help me warm up?”
He pulled back from her and glared. “Is that your answer to everything?” He asked disgustedly. “You think sex in a dirty hotel room is going to solve all our problems?”
She whimpered and moved away from him. “No, I-” she stammered. “I love you, Enzo. I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m not *going* to be happy. Not until we make it home, and I’m starting to think that’s never going to happen. And I told you not to call me Enzo. I’m *Matrix*. Enzo is dead.”
AndrAIa stared down at the floorboards. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
“It’s true!” He bellowed. “Enzo died in that game. I wish you’d stop trying to resurrect him. This is who I am now.”
“I’m not...En- Matrix, I love *you.* Not some memory of who you were.” She reached out for him but he knocked her hand away.
“I wish you wouldn’t. I don’t need your pity.”
“Fine.” She turned away, determined not to let him see the tears in
her eyes. That would only make him angrier. She stripped off her
wet clothes and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She
squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to cry. After awhile, she felt Matrix
climb in beside her, the warmth of his body helping to fight off the chill.
Maybe
if she tried hard enough she could forget that they were here in this
cold, dark hotel room. Maybe she could make the hurt and misery go away.
She felt his fingers
brush the small of her back, sending a shiver of pleasure up her spine.
She inhaled sharply, sucking air through her teeth with a hiss. She rolled
over to meet him, giving into the passion he’d denounced only micros before.
He wasn’t gentle with her, but then, she hadn’t expected him to be.
Not when he was like this. She could remember when their times together
had been loving, tender affairs. Back when they were still new, untarnished.
Before they’d been shattered and swallowed down by the darkness and despair
that surrounded, and now defined them. They were the
culmination of all the hurts and torments they’d faced, corrupted wholly
and seemingly irredeemable.
AndrAIa placed her palm flat against the rough brick wall of the alleyway
for support as she crouched close to the ground, fighting a wave of nausea.
She felt horrible, but at the same time, she was filled with a golden warmth
that managed to drive back some of the shadows dogging her soul. Even as
she bent double, stomach heaving, she knew joy.
This was an illness of creation,
of new life. An illness that symbolized hope and happiness, instead of
death and despair. She stood slowly, wrapping her arms around herself,
glowing with an inner light at the knowledge of the secret she carried
within her.
“You all right?” Matrix growled, his ill temper plain.
His mood had not improved with the last game hop, nor the one before that. If anything, he’d gotten more despondent with each passing hop. But that would all change soon, she thought wistfully. Once she told him her secret, everything would be all right again. “Never been better,” she replied, gracing him with a mysterious smile.
He cursed under his breath and grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Well, come on then. We’ve got to find someplace to stay.” This new system was little better than the last and all he wanted to do was find someplace dry to sleep and then find a place to get himself a drink. He glanced over at AndrAIa, who still had a faint smile plastered on her face, seemingly oblivious to the squalor of their surroundings. She’d been acting oddly for a few seconds now, and it was beginning to seriously irritate him. But she’d also stopped nagging him about the time he was spending in bars, so he decided that whatever mischief she was up to was okay as long as she left him alone.
After a good time spent searching and bargaining he finally got them a small room in a run down motel for fairly cheap. They were running low on units, and he wanted to make sure he still had enough left to hit the bar. If all else failed, he could find some sort of work to replenish their dwindling funds. In systems like these, there was always dirty work to be found for those who knew how to get the job done and not to ask too many questions.
AndrAIa watched Matrix leave the room, Frisket trotting along behind
him faithfully. She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, resting a
hand lightly on her abdomen. “I know he seems mean,” she said, “but he’s
really just a big sweetheart when you get to know him. You’ll see.” She
smiled contentedly. “Everything is going to be okay. It’ll be you, me,
Frisket and your daddy. We’re going to be happy again, just like old times.”
She could almost picture it now. Enzo would stop spending all his time
in the bars and they’d find Mainframe. They’d have the perfect little family.
No more sadness. No more game
hopping. Just the three of them together without a care.
AndrAIa sat up in the half darkness of the room, tangled in the sheets. Matrix stood by the door, pulling his boots on. “You’re leaving again?”
“Got a problem with that?” He muttered.
“I just wanted you to stay here with me,” she said. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t the way she’d planed it. But maybe, once he knew... “Please?”
He glared at her and walked over to where she sat. “Why is it everything revolves around you?” He grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. “I have a life too, you know. And I don’t need you hanging on me!” He shoved her backwards and she stumbled, colliding with the wall. She sank to the floor, tears springing to her eyes.
“Enzo...”
“I *told* you not to call me that!” His hand flew out and caught her across the face. She went down on her side.
“Enzo...” She whispered, stunned. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. It was all some ugly nightmare that would dissolve when she woke, lying curled up beside him. Everything would be all right.
“Shut UP!” One booted foot lashed out, catching her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain. When she only whimpered in reply, Matrix gave her one last disgusted look and stumbled out of the room.
This wasn’t happening, she thought for the thousandth time as another
wave of pain griped her. She would wake up, and everything would be perfect.
Just the three of them. Tears streamed down her face as the last golden
thread of hope in her life bled away.
Milliseconds later, curled up tightly in the single bed, she heard the door open. The overhead light flipped on, casting a sickly illumination on the walls. A hand brushed her shoulder and she flinched.
A pained sigh escaped Matrix’s lips. “AndrAIa...” For the first time
in minutes, he sounded sober. She felt herself being gathered into his
arms, felt some of that old gentleness returning. She bit her lip to keep
it from trembling. “I’m so sorry,” he
whispered, and she found that she actually believed him. He wrapped
his arms around her and they lay there on the bed together. She let her
eyes close, trying to regain a shard of the visions she’d had earlier,
but they all flitted away from her like butterflies. She fought back the
sobs building in her chest and vowed he’d never know what his momentary
loss of control had cost them.