Read Online Brainrush 05 - Everlast 02: Ephemeral by Richard Bard - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard Bard
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filtering
into the room, along with a crowd of spectators. He paused the tutorial as Dolphin
walked by holding two frosty cans of soda. Each was already open with a straw
protruding from its mouth, the top half of the straws still covered by wrappers.
The kid deposited one into the drink holder in his own pod, and then returned
and offered the second one to Marshall. “Thought you might be thirsty.”
“Thanks,” Marshall said, reaching for the can. Dolphin held
the soda for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before releasing it
into Marshall’s grip, and that’s when he noticed the slight narrowing of the
kid’s eyes, followed by a subtle shake of his head. Marshall placed the can in
his drink holder without taking a sip. As he did, he sensed Dolphin’s relief.
“I’m glad they decided to let us back in to practice!”
Dolphin said. He shifted his position so that his back was to the front wall
screen and then held his hands together in front of him. He twisted his wrist
and a smartphone slid from under his sleeve into his palm. He aimed the screen
at Marshall, continuing to talk. “I’ll bet I know why you had so much trouble
in the first game. It had to be the headset!” He tapped the phone screen and a
message appeared.
don’t drink the soda. it’s drugged. keep the phone in your lap so
the cameras won’t see it.
“You didn’t bring your own headset with you,” Dolphin
continued without missing a beat, “so it must’ve been a tuning issue or
something.” He leaned over and placed his hands on the edge of Marshall’s pod,
dropping the phone into Marshall’s lap as he did so. A card-trick magician
couldn’t have done it more smoothly. Dolphin looked up at the big screen, where
the paused tutorial mission was projected in one of the perimeter windows. “It
looks like you were doing okay just now. But I’m still going to try to kick
your butt!” He held his palm up for a high five.
Marshall slapped it. “Good luck with that, kid. You may have
the edge for a game or two while I’m getting my headset, uh, tuned up. But
after that, you’re toast!”
Dolphin stood tall and smiled. “We’ll see, dude!” The kid strode
away and slid into his own pod. He donned his Spider, settled in, and dropped
his hands to his lap. A moment later, the phone in Marshall’s lap vibrated with
a text message. He was grateful the kid didn’t use shorthand text-speak.
will explain between games. keep the phone low and out of sight. no
texting during game or THEY will know. phone only works for internal messaging.
no Internet.
Marshall texted back: what the hell is going on?
Shamer’s automated voice sounded from the game. “The game
will begin in thirty seconds.”
Dolphin texted back: something is up
what?
unsure. shamer is digging
about me?
no. but something bad. gotta wait for shamer. there’s more. about
your wife
Marshall nearly dropped the phone. He texted back: what about
her?
Shamer’s voice counted down. “Five. Four. Three. Two.
One.”
Marshall’s phone didn’t vibrate, so he texted again: what about
my wife?!!!
But there was no reply. The game had begun and Dolphin had
warned not to text while playing. But Marshall wasn’t about to wait. He
pocketed the phone, rose to his feet, and reached up to remove his headset. Movement
behind him stayed his hand. Both of the guards started toward him, Chang gripping
the remote clipped to his belt. Marshall glanced over at Dolphin. The kid
gawked at him, his face white.
Marshall forced himself to calm down. He faked a yawn, stretched
his arms over his head, and twisted his torso from side to side.
The guards relaxed, Dolphin blew out a breath, and Marshall
plopped back into his chair in time to see his unmoving avatar blown off its
feet by an RPG—rocket propelled grenade. His mind raced as he waited the seven
seconds it would take to respawn. What does the kid know about Lacey? Is she
okay? Does he know where she is? And what is
into the room, along with a crowd of spectators. He paused the tutorial as Dolphin
walked by holding two frosty cans of soda. Each was already open with a straw
protruding from its mouth, the top half of the straws still covered by wrappers.
The kid deposited one into the drink holder in his own pod, and then returned
and offered the second one to Marshall. “Thought you might be thirsty.”
“Thanks,” Marshall said, reaching for the can. Dolphin held
the soda for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before releasing it
into Marshall’s grip, and that’s when he noticed the slight narrowing of the
kid’s eyes, followed by a subtle shake of his head. Marshall placed the can in
his drink holder without taking a sip. As he did, he sensed Dolphin’s relief.
“I’m glad they decided to let us back in to practice!”
Dolphin said. He shifted his position so that his back was to the front wall
screen and then held his hands together in front of him. He twisted his wrist
and a smartphone slid from under his sleeve into his palm. He aimed the screen
at Marshall, continuing to talk. “I’ll bet I know why you had so much trouble
in the first game. It had to be the headset!” He tapped the phone screen and a
message appeared.
don’t drink the soda. it’s drugged. keep the phone in your lap so
the cameras won’t see it.
“You didn’t bring your own headset with you,” Dolphin
continued without missing a beat, “so it must’ve been a tuning issue or
something.” He leaned over and placed his hands on the edge of Marshall’s pod,
dropping the phone into Marshall’s lap as he did so. A card-trick magician
couldn’t have done it more smoothly. Dolphin looked up at the big screen, where
the paused tutorial mission was projected in one of the perimeter windows. “It
looks like you were doing okay just now. But I’m still going to try to kick
your butt!” He held his palm up for a high five.
Marshall slapped it. “Good luck with that, kid. You may have
the edge for a game or two while I’m getting my headset, uh, tuned up. But
after that, you’re toast!”
Dolphin stood tall and smiled. “We’ll see, dude!” The kid strode
away and slid into his own pod. He donned his Spider, settled in, and dropped
his hands to his lap. A moment later, the phone in Marshall’s lap vibrated with
a text message. He was grateful the kid didn’t use shorthand text-speak.
will explain between games. keep the phone low and out of sight. no
texting during game or THEY will know. phone only works for internal messaging.
no Internet.
Marshall texted back: what the hell is going on?
Shamer’s automated voice sounded from the game. “The game
will begin in thirty seconds.”
Dolphin texted back: something is up
what?
unsure. shamer is digging
about me?
no. but something bad. gotta wait for shamer. there’s more. about
your wife
Marshall nearly dropped the phone. He texted back: what about
her?
Shamer’s voice counted down. “Five. Four. Three. Two.
One.”
Marshall’s phone didn’t vibrate, so he texted again: what about
my wife?!!!
But there was no reply. The game had begun and Dolphin had
warned not to text while playing. But Marshall wasn’t about to wait. He
pocketed the phone, rose to his feet, and reached up to remove his headset. Movement
behind him stayed his hand. Both of the guards started toward him, Chang gripping
the remote clipped to his belt. Marshall glanced over at Dolphin. The kid
gawked at him, his face white.
Marshall forced himself to calm down. He faked a yawn, stretched
his arms over his head, and twisted his torso from side to side.
The guards relaxed, Dolphin blew out a breath, and Marshall
plopped back into his chair in time to see his unmoving avatar blown off its
feet by an RPG—rocket propelled grenade. His mind raced as he waited the seven
seconds it would take to respawn. What does the kid know about Lacey? Is she
okay? Does he know where she is? And what is
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