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*Author’s note:
Roeboot once said that accents are very hard to write. He
ain’t kidding. The time scale isn’t exactly a picnic to
figure out, either. I have a cycle set as a day, but the
characters also say day or night instead of cycle; but since they
do that on the show anyway, I figured it was okay. :)
I would rate this somewhere between G and PG for some mild swearing and brief innuendo. Enjoy!
Time Scale
Nanosecond: one second
Microsecond: one minute
Millisecond: one hour
Cycle: one day
Week: um, one week (Sorry, I couldn’t think of a better word)
Minute: one month
Hour: one year
Part One: Motivation
“I’m sitting here as fast as I can!” - David Letterman
“I am so bored.” Matrix, sitting sideways on the bench, leaned his head back against the diner window. “Where’s a game cube when you need one?”
“Oh, quit complaining.” Bob had his head resting on the back of the opposite bench, staring up at the ceiling. “At least things are back to normal.”
“If you can call it that.” Matrix looked over to where Enzo was lying on the bar, much to Cecil’s dismay. In the minutes since Mainframe had restarted, Matrix had grown to accept his young counterpart. One might even say that he had gotten fond of him, though not many would say that within the cadet’s range of hearing. While it was true that at first the little Sprite had served only to remind Matrix of how weak he had thought himself to be, he had lately been thinking of him as a little brother, and as a result had become pretty protective of him. The younger Enzo, for his part, just liked having someone else around to roughhouse with. Right now, though, the normally hyper Sprite looked about as enthused as the other two men felt. All three let out a simultaneous sigh.
“What do you want to do?” Bob asked.
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
Enzo waved away an increasingly agitated Cecil. “Please get down,” the server pleaded. “Zis looks terrible to zee customers!”
“What’s the matter, Cecil? He’s ‘waiting at the bar’, isn’t he?” Bob had always enjoyed teasing Cecil. Unfortunately, even that wasn’t enough to kill the current air of boredom. Cecil, instead of responding, fixed the Guardian with an icy stare. Just you wait, he thought. Some cycle his opportunity would come, and then he’d shut that know-it-all Guardian up but good. Comforted by this thought, he resumed his pestering of the young Sprite.
Enzo simply ignored him. “Man, this is basic. There’s gotta be some way to have fun around here.”
“Jetbowling?” Bob suggested half-heartedly.
“Nah,” the two Enzos replied in unison.
“Vectorball?”
“Uh-uh.”
Bob gazed absentmindedly toward the back of the diner. “Didn’t Dot say she needed someone to clean out the basement of this place?”
Matrix raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding, right?” The younger Enzo just stared in amazement.
“Hey, at least I’m trying. I don’t hear you two coming up with any ideas. Where are the girls, anyway?”
Matrix shrugged. “AndrAIa said something about getting Dot away from her work for a while. They’re probably having a lot more fun than we are.” Just then the sound of female laughter floated in from outside. Matrix looked out the window; Dot, AndrAIa, and Mouse were headed for the diner. “Right on cue,” he murmured. Nanoseconds later, the doors banged open as Dot strode in, followed closely by Mouse and AndrAIa, the sources of the laughter.
“That is the last time I play vectorball with you two,” Dot said in mock anger, leaning back against the bar.
“Oh, come off it, Dot. You were havin’ fun and you know it,” retorted Mouse.
“Yeah, I was having fun -- until you two ganged up on me!”
“Dot, you were kicking our bitmaps. We had to beat you somehow!” AndrAIa said, trying in vain to plead their case.
“It was supposed to be every man for himself!”
Mouse leaned against the bar next to her friend. “Sugah, Ah’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” After a brief dramatic pause, she said: “we ain’t men,” causing the other women to burst out laughing.
“Thank the User for that, huh?” said AndrAIa between giggles. “Hi, guys!” she called out cheerfully, finally taking notice of them.
“Hi,” the trio said rather monotonously, not even bothering to look up.
The women exchanged glances. “My, my, aren’t we energetic,” Dot observed. “Enzo, get off the bar.” Enzo heaved an overly dramatic sigh and slid to the floor. Cecil, seeing his precious bar was now free of obstruction, moved in with the Windex. AndrAIa and Dot slid into the booth next to their respective significant others, while Mouse elected to sit on the table itself, resting her feet on the bench next to AndrAIa.
“So what’s with you guys?” AndrAIa asked.
“Nothing ever happens around here,” whined Enzo from the floor. “Anymore, I mean,” he added as the group cast incredulous looks at him.
“The kid’s got a point,” said Matrix. “I hate to say it, but ever since we got rid of Daemon, it’s like nothing is exciting anymore. Even games have gotten boring.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Bob with a smile. “But I know what you mean. After all we went through, we can’t just pick up where we left off. Normal life is bound to be a bit dull.”
“So y’all want to shake things up, do ya?” Mouse said. “Ah think Ah know a way.”
The others looked at each other, then back at Mouse. “You want to explain that?” Dot asked.
Mouse smiled down at her friends. “Y’all want to restore some excitement to this system, right? Sounds like what we need is a good old-fashioned Gotcha game.”
“A what game?” Enzo had risen from the floor and joined the others in the booth.
“Gotcha. Bob, Ah know you’ve heard of it. They used to set up a game for all incoming cadets at the Academy.”
Bob struggled to remember. “You mean Assassins?”
“That’s another name for it, yeah.”
“This doesn’t sound like a very good game,” Dot said.
“It’s harmless, sugah. Just causes a little widespread paranoia.”
“How do you play?” Matrix looked intrigued.
“It’s simple. Everyone draws a name. Whoever ya draw is who ya have to kill -- using a water pistol. It’s completely anonymous -- your victim doesn’t know who’s after them until it’s too late.” She looked around. Her friends were hanging on her every word. Mouse smirked, clearly loving the attention, and continued. “There are a few safety zones set up, but otherwise you’re vulnerable wherever ya go. The game goes on day cycle and night cycle. Last man standin’ wins.” There was silence in the diner as she finished her explanation. Half a microsecond went by -- then Enzo broke the silence.
“Dude,” he exclaimed. “We have to do that.”
“Don’t we need more people?” asked Bob.
“Ah’m sure we can scare up some more. Ray’ll be back any cycle now, and Ah know he’ll want in on it.” The surfer had been in a neighboring system for the past week, keeping its Net trade going by stabilizing tears while the Command.com replaced portal generators destroyed during the war with Daemon.
“Hack and Slash will probably want to play,” said Dot.
“Oh, not those two,” grumbled Matrix.
“It’ll make them feel good to be included,” Dot said diplomatically. “Besides, whoever they draw is pretty much guaranteed to win. They couldn’t hunt someone down if their lives depended on it.”
A few other names were mentioned -- Phong, Mr. Pearson (“Yeah, right!” Enzo had scoffed) -- then AndrAIa said, “Hey, what about Hexadecimal?”
“I don’t think she’d be into this kind of thing,” Dot said.
“Are you kidding? It’s completely random. She’ll love it!” Bob exclaimed. “Plus, it’ll make everyone really nervous,” he added with a mischievous laugh.
“Yeah, being hunted by an anonymous assailant isn’t nerve-wracking enough,” Dot returned with a grin.
“So we’re all in agreement, then? We’re gonna do this?” Mouse asked.
Everyone nodded. Mouse smirked. “Perfect. Get the word out, and tell everyone interested to meet here in two cycles at 1200 to draw names.”
“Hey, Cecil,” Bob called out to the server, looking to get a rise out of him. “Wanna play?”
Cecil froze with his back to the group momentarily. Then he glided swiftly over to the booth, looked the Guardian right in the face, and said, “Waste my time playing a zilly children’s game zimply because I cannot find an intelligent way to entertain myself? I don’t zink zo!” With that, he abruptly turned and sped away, leaving a very shocked Bob gaping after him and the rest of the booth’s occupants nearly dying of laughter.