MonuMental: The Hack's Back

Prologue: Pre-V

 

Level 1: MiniMental

‘I care nothing for the four elements of the real world.

Fire, earth, water and air – they can go schoff themselves.

Now there is the v'element, gameblur.

More powerful than them all, because it can be them all.’

–The Hack, 2051.

***

Prologue: Pre-V

Willis

‘You never go out. You never see your friends.’

Willis breathed in. Held it.  Breathed out. ‘Mum, remember when I said, you can be overprotective? And you said, you weren’t, ever. And I said, you were so, often. And then you said, point it out next time. Well, this is the next time, and this is me … pointing it out.’

They were in the family room. She was on the couch, her Zeepad in her lap and on pause, as she'd looked away. Willis was behind her, leaning against the open door. His hands in his pockets.

She twisted around and peered up. ‘I’m only showing how much I care. I’m your mother, after all.’

The old mother-loves-you card. ‘I’m sixteen now, Mum. I can care for myself. And anyway, you’ll be happy to know, I do catch up with friends.’

‘When?’

‘Regularly. Tonight even.’

‘You’ve been invited to someone’s for dinner?’

She knew full well he'd not been invited anywhere for dinner. He should have kept his big trap shut. ‘Nothing like that. We’re catching up … on our Plush Pluses.’

‘That’s not catching up. That’s just virtual gaming.’

‘V’gaming is catching up. And in the best way possible. Safely. No lounging around on a street corner or hanging out in a dark park. Or worse, making small talk around a dinner table with boring adults.’ He gestured to what was in her lap. ‘And you can talk. You’re always on your Zeepad.’

‘Hello!’ interrupted a voice. His dad’s.

Willis stepped into the room as the door pushed wider. His dad marched in. He’d been in his home office, Willis guessed.

‘What’s this I hear – you’re going out tonight with friends? About time, if you don’t mind my saying.’

‘That’s not what you heard at all. And I’m always with friends. Just not in a way you guys ever seem to get.’

Willis angled past his father and stepped through the door. ‘I’m off to my bedroom.’

 ***

Zeb

‘Is that you, Zeb?’ It was Zeb’s mum, yelling through her bedroom door.

Zeb crept on, in case he could get away with it.

‘Yes, it’s him! Trying to creep past.’

Zeb spun around and glared down the corridor. His eight-year-old brother's head was sticking around a corner. His whole face a smirk.

There was a time when Spud never spoke. Zeb wished those days were back. In fact, he wished he could shutdown his whole family the way he could a v’game. He imagined them, his mum, Spud, his dad, rising into the air and spinning into a single dot, like a v’game folding up, then – pop! Disappearing.

How funny it would be if he woke one morning to discover his whole family had turned into v’game characters. Better still, the whole world. Like in those early 21st century films where everyone turned into a zombie overnight. He alone, left to fight on for humanity.

‘Zeb!’ His mum's voice crashed through his thoughts.

‘Zeb here.’

‘I’m not well today, Zeb.’

‘That’s no good.’

‘Can you fix dinner? I think I’ll stay in bed.’

‘Okay.’

Zeb glided back down the corridor to Spud. He looked down at him. Spud did not return his gaze. ‘Remember I gave you my old Magnum console?’ Zeb asked him.

Spud looked up. His eyes shone.  ‘I do.’

‘Remember you said you owed me big time?’

Spud nodded.

‘Go make your own dinner. A flashburger will do it. Two if you want; you can have mine. And if anyone asks – which they won’t, but if they do – say I cooked them.’

‘All right.’

Zeb patted him on the head. ‘And clean up after. That’s your job anyhow.’ He turned and headed for his bedroom.

*** 

Arizona

There was a rap at the front door. Arizona, at the back of the house, kept still. She guessed it was one of the nurses and they had their own key. Confirming this, after a moment there was a rattling of the lock and the door opened. Arizona could see the change in light spilling down the hall. Then it was gone. The door had shut again.

‘Hellooo! Home nursing!’

From the front door, it was possible to peer all the way down, beyond the doors to the bedrooms and the bathroom, through the tiny kitchen, and right into one side of the family room. Arizona pulled back, keeping out of sight. Her mother lay in the front bedroom, a mere step for the nurse.

She could tell from the voice which nurse it was, the overly chatty one who looked like a fairy tale baker’s wife. She always made Arizona join her as she tended to her mother’s fragile body. Arizona suspected the nurse did this for her own benefit – she wasn’t attempting to promote bonding between mother and daughter. She was trying to avoid being in the room alone with her mum.

And Arizona understood that. Her mother could creep people out. Her physical pain was so tangible that after a while you could almost feel it too, crawling all over your skin. And jabbing in, like millions of pins.

Well, stiff. Arizona was not about to own up to being home. It was the nurse’s job to nurse. Nurse? Yes? Nurse.

But there was a problem. When she was done, the nurse would very likely come down – to make a cup of tea, or to snoop around, more like – and that’s when she would discover the patient’s aloof daughter was home after all.

Arizona had to get to her own room before that.

She stole up the corridor, one silent step at a time. At the far end, her mother’s door was open and she could see a moving shadow, the nurse, shifting about her mother’s bed in the center of the room.

‘Just turning you,’ came the nurse’s voice. ‘Gently does it.’

There was a long moan from her mother.

Then Arizona reached the door to her own bedroom. It creaked as she opened it. She slipped inside, shut it behind her, and instructed her Plush Plus to seal the room for sound.