The Game Read Online Free PDF

nonetheless real to the subject.
    “ I’m sorry,” she whispers. She
stares deeply into Rob’s eyes and flips the switch. She’s looking
for slightest indication of consciousness.
    Nothing. The eyes don’t even flinch.
    She looks up toward the observation deck where
General Potter glares down at her. He shrugs his shoulders and
spreads his hands apart as if to say, “Well?”
    She takes one last look into Rob’s eyes then
turns to join the others on the observation deck.
* * *
    He doesn’t know what she did, but it’s as if
all the suns of the universe have converged around him to bake his
skin—and yet he does not burn. This is hell , he thinks as
another burst of pain floods his consciousness. I’m in
hell .
    In a flash, all the memories of that afternoon crash down on him. The hillside. The bird in the bush.
The hidden explosives. The flames…oh, God, the flames. The fire
lasted only an instant, but it completely overshadowed the
instantaneous loss of his arm and leg. He screams at the memory of
boiling, bubbling skin: turning black as char—cracking apart under
the relentless desert sun.
    If he could just move, he thinks the pain
wouldn’t be so bad, but as it is, he remains motionless, forced to
endure.
    Finally, whether it’s the pain actually abating
or he’s just getting used to it, the sensations slowly diminish.
His screams turn to gentle whispers. As hard as he screamed, he’s
surprised he’s not hoarse; but then he has to remind himself—his
internal voice would never fade or crack as his physical vocal
chords would.
    The pain stops and he breathes a mental sigh of
relief.
    He still can’t move, but he is aware of his own
skin now. He can feel his one leg, the way the wind tickles at the
hair. He can even feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. Something
(a mask?) covers the lower part of his face. Something else pulls
down and forward on his shoulders—a heavy weight strapped to his
chest.
    And then there are his missing limbs. He’s
heard the stories before—from other veterans that have lost
appendages. They say that the mind remembers the missing arm or
leg. The mind will trick you into believing it’s there—and you’ll
reach over to scratch an itch, but good hand passes through empty
air.
    Rob feels that now, but it’s completely unlike
how they described it. They called it a tingling feeling—like when
your foot falls asleep but never wakes up, no matter how hard you
stomp it into the floor. He doesn’t feel a tingle; he feels a
metallic cold—as if something is there in place of his arm
and leg.
* * *
    She can’t stand being so close to Potter, but
the room is crowded and he hovers close to her in case he has a
question. That’s the problem though, isn’t it? He insists on asking
questions in which he already knows the answers—he is the project
leader after all. Deep down, however, she knows why Potter insists
on all the repeated questions—it’s mainly for the benefit of the
others in the room—the invited guests that have no clue how any of
this technology works.
    “ What now?” he asks.
    She rolls her eyes. Thankfully, from where he’s
standing, he can’t see her. “We wait. I’ve already linked the
programs. Now we wait for the initialization trigger.”
    “ And that is?”
    She cuts her eyes toward him, not bothering to
hide her dislike this time. “The boy presses the start button.” She
stresses the word boy . It’s one thing to use consenting
adults for this experiment—but it’s another thing to use a child
who has no idea what’s about to happen to him.
    Potter turns to someone else and begins talking
quietly. Georgia is thankful; she might just have to throw up if
she has to speak to him anymore today. Please let this be over
soon . For the hundredth time, she considers quitting. In the
beginning, this project was supposed to support and protect
soldiers on the ground, but the General’s penchant for success has
taken them down a dark road—a