The Complete Game Trilogy: Game, Buzz, Bubble. Литагент HarperCollins USD

carefully and think things over before deciding whether or not you wish to continue.

      Do you understand?

      Yes

      No

      Yep, he understood all right, rules, blah blah blah, but – more importantly – more information. Just what he needed.

      As soon as he got home to his little two-room flat on the steeply stepped alleyway of Maria Trappgränd, he threw all the windows wide open in a vain attempt to stir up the stale air inside. The bitter coffee from the computer shop was still bubbling in his stomach and it dawned on him that he hadn’t actually eaten anything since the burger he gulped down when he was drunk the previous night. And he was desperate for a cigarette. A crumpled, half-full packet of Marlboros that he found under the sofa after a bit of a search solved the latter problem, and he took a couple of deep drags and relaxed. Sweet!

      With the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth he mounted a raid on the fridge, but without any great expectations. Apart from a couple of cans of beer it offered thin pickings, but the ice-covered freezer compartment actually managed to produce a frost-damaged Gorby pie. He zapped the little delicacy in the microwave and settled down at the kitchen table, fiddling with the mobile and trying not to burn his mouth on the melted cheese.

      It was all pretty straightforward. Even though the touchscreen was fairly large, there were only five icons. Phone, calendar, email, internet, and the one he was after – ‘The Game’.

      He clicked Yes and a new text appeared instantly.

      Welcome to a new dimension of gaming, a world where reality is a game and the Game reality.

      Welcome to the most intense gaming experience in the world!

      Welcome to the Game!

      He couldn’t help smiling at the bombastic tone, then ran his finger across the screen to scroll down to the next piece of text.

       Definitions

      Participants in the Game are known as Players and are hand-picked after a careful selection process.

      Every Player is given various Assignments by the Game Master who is the person who directs the Game.

      The Assignments, if carried out correctly, result in a number of Points, as well as a matching quantity of American dollars which will be paid into an account to which the Player has free access.

      All Assignments are documented by the Players themselves with the help of the handheld unit, and in specific instances also by Functionaries or other Players. All visual material is the exclusive property of the Game and will be presented at regular intervals in edited form together with the league table on the High Score Page.

      At the end of each round of the Game a Winner will be declared, and they will receive a Reward.

      HP frowned. If this was a joke, then it was a bloody convincing one.

      So had he been selected to take part in whatever it was called … a live game or something? It was all a bit too close to those ridiculous historical re-enactments, really, people on Gotland dancing about in homemade chainmail costumes. Or kids dressing up as vampires with plastic fangs and capes. How the hell had he got involved in something like this?

      The page had two links. He clicked the first, marked Rules of the Game:

       Rules of the Game

      To guarantee a satisfactory experience for all parties, there must be a set of Rules, as in all games.

      These Rules are absolute and must not

      under any circumstances be broken.

      Rule 1: Never talk to anyone outside

      the Game Community about the Game.

      Rule 2: The Game Master directs the Game,

      allocates assignments, rewards, and – if necessary – punishments.

      The Game Master’s authority is absolute, all

      decisions must be obeyed and there is no right of appeal.

       Consequences

      Breaching or disobeying the Rules of The Game will result in immediate Disqualification and Expulsion.

      HP sighed and pulled out another Marlboro, lit it and took a deep drag. So far he was no wiser than he had been when he started. He was clearly being invited to take part in some sort of weird game that seemed to take place out in the real world. But why him?

      Not that he didn’t like gaming, he had Counterstrike and World of Warcraft on his computer, and obviously Guitar Hero on his Playstation. But they didn’t make you run around town like a fucking Duracell bunny. But on the other hand, there was that bit about money and rewards …

      Getting paid to play games, he could definitely live with that. Professional gaming was actually something he’d looked at before. But how the hell could they know that?

      He clicked the second link. Just like the heading said, it contained something that looked like a high score table. In the left-hand margin was a series of numbers, which at a guess represented different players. At the top was someone called ‘58’, who had evidently managed to scrape together more than five thousand points by completing seven tasks.

      If every point was the equivalent of one American dollar, as the earlier page suggested, then number fifty-eight had earned something like forty thousand Swedish kronor, presumably tax-free, just by playing a game. Not bad, not bad at all in fact! His interest was definitely piqued.

      So what did he have to do to get his share of the dosh? He scrolled down through the list of high scores, right to the bottom, where, surrounded by a number of other players on one hundred points, he found number one-two-eight. The same number as on the back of his phone. He clicked the little icon of a reel of film alongside the number. A new window opened up, showing a shaky film sequence, and he heard his own voice crackle through the phone’s little speaker:

      ‘Tell Manga … still a carpet-lick … bastard!’

      The picture bounced up and down. Train doors, tarmac, then a shaky sequence of some steps and a bit of Rörstrandsgatan. Then the whole sequence over again, but this time filmed from the side with considerably better focus and less shaking, and once again he saw himself steal the umbrella and jump out of the carriage. From the angle of the shot, it had been recorded either by the attractive young woman in training gear, or one of the thirty-somethings. Christ, the look of surprise on the man’s face when he took the umbrella was priceless! He clicked to repeat the film and watched it again.

      First his own recording, then the one taken anonymously. It was almost like reliving it, but with all the details more defined. The look of surprise on the young girls’ faces, the drunk jumping when HP started shouting, the shocked reaction of the man in the coat, which seemed to suggest that he had no idea what was going on. This was massive, totally massive!

      HP had nicked stuff before, it wasn’t that … It was actually bloody cool to be able to watch it again, even if he didn’t look quite as slick as he’d imagined. It was like getting a repeat of the adrenalin rush, just with more time to enjoy the finer nuances.

      After a while he tried a button marked ‘mix’ and to his delight discovered he could watch the two sequences of clips alongside each other, his own on the left and the other one to the right, perfectly synchronized, the entire event seen from two different angles.

      When he had watched the film for the fifth time he found that his heart was thudding with excitement.