The Carnival

[Ander]

The end of the event happened so fast Ander couldn’t even remember it all. One moment, he was preparing to fire his laser, and the next few seconds passed him by in a blur as a familiar blue portal deposited him safely back into the confines of the Kill Town carnival. He landed on his feet, thankfully, somewhere very high up. The thief surmised it as a building, given the general layout of the floor and the stone fence preventing anyone from simply walking or falling off the edge. From his general location, he guessed the cosmic doorway teleported him on top of the hotel. Funny how it seemed to never be able to pinpoint exactly where it took them from and take them back to that spot.

Ander sighed and hopped onto the safety guard and sat down, letting his feet dangle over the side of the monstrously tall structure. He didn’t fear heights, as he had honed his ability to fall from great distances and not only survive, but also touch down completely gracefully, almost like a cat that could never land on anything but its feet. If you had that, why did you need to bother to learn to fly? The thief gazed out into the theme park, oddly seeing nothing beyond its borders, just that same hazy darkness, as if Kill Town fell under eternal nightfall. He contemplated his next move while he watched the others scurry around below, little ants moving this way and that in their different purposes and functions. He squinted one eye and moved his thumb along each one he could pick out individually, as if some god able to snuff out their insignificant lives like so many insects. He certainly didn’t believe himself a god, or even a particularly powerful mortal being, but it amused him nonetheless while considering his fate and life in general.

Then, he lifted his eyes up, staring straight ahead, and the corners of his lips perked up.

“Looks like I finally caught you,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

“Oh darn, and I was on such a roll, too,” Mixie giggled.

“I think I know the rules well enough by now. What is it you have for me this time?” Ander asked.

“I didn’t think it was a crime to check on your well-being. Everyone should be kept company during this carnival after all, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting lonely all the way up here by yourself,” the brunette explained compassionately.

And how exactly do you always know where I am?

He turned around, seeing her smiling face and elegantly curved posture. “Listen, I know you’re only being nice to me because your boss tells you to. You don’t have to keep up the act. It’s exhausting, I know.”

She seemed to balk at the statement, but quickly recovered, responding with a mixture of cheerfulness and mock offense. “I don’t think that is for you to decide. I have feelings just like everyone else. I am dedicated to my duty, but I’m not heartless, you know.”

Ander studied her expression for a moment. “Are you stuck here, too? Are you trapped in this game just like us?”

The woman considered her response carefully, still playing at their clever little back and forth, still letting Ander think he had all the right answers when he was completely in the dark about the true nature of Keith Summer’s charade, and she knew it. She knew he was probably the only one left who hadn’t figured it out. Mixie could almost choke on the irony, given that her database informed her of his inquisitive and suspicious nature. But, after all, why would he suspect he wasn’t real, that his current body was only a virtual simulation? He had no reason or experience to draw such an otherwise completely outlandish conclusion. Mixie gave him all the answers he needed, but not the keys with which to interpret them. All of her words carried a double meaning.

“I’m here because of my duty. It’s why I exist, really,” she finally answered.

“But you have free will. You have a mind of your own. Why anchor yourself to one person and do their bidding? Why not just look out for yourself?”

Mixie shrugged. “I’m just not made that way.”

Ander laughed. “That’s too bad I guess.” He retained the lightheartedness, although his next question stumbled into darker territory. “Tell me, what happens when somebody loses a game?”

The blue-suited beauty replied with her typical sunny disposition. “They enter a bonus round, of course, a special one designed just for them, with much higher stakes: all or nothing!”

“I see,” Ander concluded, unconsciously lowering his head.

The woman leaned down, tilting her chin upwards to meet his gaze with a smile. “Still looking for someone, I take it?”

Ander shrugged noncommittally, bringing his face level, and hers followed.

“You’ll be just fine,” Mixie stated with a single nod.

The thief chortled again. “That’s never a question. I’m always fine.” A word popped onto the tip of his tongue, one just recently heard, and Ander decided to steal it and take it for a test drive. “In fact, I’d even venture to say I’m aces.”

“Ooh, better be careful with that turn of phrase,” Mixie winked coyly.

“Right,” Ander agreed in good humor. He gave her a little wave. “Well, I suppose it’s time for me to go harass somebody now. I’ll catch ya later, Mixie.”

Then he leaned backwards and plummeted off the edge, his clothes – normal desert garb once again – flapping wildly in the wind with his body locked into a freefall battle against gravity. As the ground loomed up before him, he twisted his body around so he dropped stylishly into a perfect crouch with both hands supporting… a cat that couldn’t land on anything but its feet.

He rose to his full height, and jammed his hands into his pockets like nothing at all happened, betrayed only by the cool, self-assured smile on his face. Ander jaunted along, mostly aimlessly, passing the time before the next round. In the midst of his meandering, he suspected that perhaps the reason Mixie found him so easily was because of a tracking device in his pager-like apparatus. After all, it made sense. How else was Gamer locking on to their positions for the portals? How else could the brunette keep sneaking up on him? Ander figured it would probably be best to play it dumb and act like he hadn’t made the connection, to see if perhaps he could use this to his advantage later.

“Hey!”

“Hmm?” Ander murmured, turning his head at the sound of the voice. He saw a girl with familiar pink hair waving and making her way towards him. Not the poised femme fatale he had associated with, but the slightly nervous, somewhat energetic teenager of before. Hmph! Well I’ll be damned. Looks like my approach worked after all.

Ashe stopped in front of him, suddenly at a loss for what to say. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Um, hi! You’re that guy who wanted to take me for a ride, right?”

Ander’s eyebrows shot skyward.

“Not like that!” she quickly amended. She rubbed her arm nervously. “I mean, like, on the Ferris wheel or something.”

An expression of mock sympathy quickly replaced his initial surprise. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, you kind of hurt my feelings running off the first time, and I didn’t even get an answer the second time. I don’t think I could bear being rejected three times in a row.”

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry? If you don’t want to go, I understand. I just thought…”

The thief didn’t wait for her to finish, putting on a happy face and grabbing her by the wrist. “Okay, you talked me into it!”

“Wha-? Hey!” Ashe protested meekly.

He dragged her around – with Ashe muttering half-hearted and monosyllabic resistances – until they stood in line for the biggest, baddest rollercoaster in sight. He didn’t dare release her, pulling the teenager all the way through the crowd of people until the staff ushered them into the front car. Ander shot her a triumphant grin as the safety harnesses lowered against them, snugly locking them in. He raised his hands over his head, and nudged her good-naturedly with an elbow.

“Don’t forget to hold your arms up and scream real loud,” he smiled, and then turned straight ahead, as if defiantly laughing in the face of death.

Ashe shook her head and obediently raised her arms, visibly excited and nervous at the same time. The machine hummed to life, and the coaster rolled forward at a sluggish place. The brackets clicked into place on the chain, and they were lifted up into the anticipatory incline, ready to helplessly plummet at any suspenseful second. As they reached the climax of their ascent, the rollercoaster dipped forward at a frightening pace, and Ander wildly let out an ecstatic whoop as the linked cars rocketed along the dips and corkscrews and loop-de-loops of the track. It wasn’t nearly as fun as blasting at breakneck speeds in a starship fighter, but he allowed himself enjoyment nonetheless. He could hear Ashe screaming right next to him, equally entertained. Their respective black and pink hair flew everywhere, loose strands flapping against their faces. At last, the joyous ride halted as the coaster rested in its starting place, the safety harnesses releasing. Ander climbed out of the car first, and courteously – or smoothly, if he didn’t say so himself – offered his hand as she followed. She took it, possibly thinking nothing of it, as she let go once on her feet and straightened up her outfit.

Ander kept a respectable yet noticeably close distance as they descended the stairway back into the carnival grounds.

“Whoo, what a rush. See? I’m not such a bad guy, am I?” the thief smiled, brushing his raven locks out of his face with one hand.

“I don’t know. I think you’re still on probation,” she teased.

“Then how about some ice cream? Will that change your mind?”

“It might, but I’m not sure,” Ashe replied, somewhat reluctantly.

“Nonsense! Every girl loves ice cream. It’s genetic, scientific fact,” Ander insisted.

Despite initial reservations, Ashe tagged along, and they sauntered silently towards the concession stands. Ander located an ice cream booth, and got them a position in line.

“So? What flavor do you like?” the thief asked. He put a hand to his chin, pretending to think deeply and contemplatively, and stared pointedly at her hair. “I’m guessing… strawberry.”

“Is that a stereotype, Mr. Ander? Let me guess: yours is chocolate,” the girl retorted.

“Touché, touché,” the nomad nodded, putting up his hands in surrender. As they neared the front of the line, however, he realized he’d forgotten something. “Uhhh… wait right here, I’ll be right back!”

“Wait a sec! Where are you going?” Ashe asked, confused. He asks her out for ice cream and then disappears?

The dune dweller slipped away, determined to find an opportunity that presented itself. He strolled along the cobblestone path, as if holding not a care in the world. Eventually, his sharp blue eyes spied a cluster of friends distractedly talking about their latest Kill Town adventure. Ander put his head down, feigning inattentiveness of his general direction, and “accidentally” bumped into them. He stumbled a bit before righting himself with an embarrassed laugh.

“Whoops, sorry there guys,” Ander said.

“Watch where you’re going,” one of them replied while the others looked on in generalized offense.

“Sure thing. I’m really sorry about that. Have a good one, guys!” the thief emphasized.

They walked away, not bothering to listen to the remainder of his carefully constructed apology. With their backs turned, Ander’s embarrassed expression quickly melted away, and he nonchalantly jaunted off, producing a black leather billfold he’d quickly stashed into his pocket during the brief physical contact. Too easy. It vividly reminded him of his last carnival trip, when pickpocketing was still a new trick in his rapidly burgeoning repertoire of criminal activities. The gentleman wouldn’t be too happy when he inevitably discovered his missing wallet, but Ander rationalized in a somewhat self-deluding fashion that the stranger wasn’t a very nice person anyway.

The black-haired bandit thumbed through the neatly placed bills, guesstimating in his head how far he could stretch them. He almost regretted his decision to ask Ashe for ice cream. Where others saw delectable goodies, he saw calories, saturated fat, simple sugars, sodium, and cholesterol. Ander sighed inwardly, realizing he couldn’t think of any other way to retain her interest. Oddly enough, he wasn’t terribly hungry or thirsty, but he probably needed to keep up his energy and metabolism levels anyway. He slipped the wallet back in his pocket and returned to Ashe, who was standing with her arms crossed.

“Sorry, I needed to find a bathroom,” he lied.

“I saw that, you know,” Ashe said.

“Saw what?” Ander asked innocently.

She punched him on the shoulder, although it was more playful than aggressive. “Ugh, what if that guy needed that money?”

Ander laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Well, serves me right for trying to fool you. Shameless, I know, but, I wanted to treat you to something.”

Ashe, of course, suspected the virtual reality of the game and that only ones who could be “hurt” were real people, and despite her obvious dislike of the dirty act, had a little more wiggle room to her conscience, and unlike most other people, for whatever reason was going to let him slide on it. “At least get a double scoop, then.”

The answer surprised him, although he didn’t show it. “Anything for you.”

Their turn approached, and they ordered their ice cream, locating a comfortable booth to sit down while they maintained their frozen treats. Ander nearly winced at the first lick as he felt the saccharine sweetness assault his tongue unpleasantly, but he managed to keep his reaction completely in check. Having actively avoided sugar, it tasted a thousand times more powerful – diabetic, even – than to somebody who consumed it only a daily basis. He promised to buy himself a ridiculously overpriced water bottle to compensate.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Ander prompted. He’d shelled out an activity, a pickpocket, and some ice cream for this deal. It was time to get the goods; he wanted his return on the investment (and brief humiliation), the information she had that might be valuable to player weaknesses or game strategy.

“Why is a stranger like you so curious?” Ashe deflected.

“Do I need a reason to talk to a pretty girl like you?” the thief smoothed over flatteringly.

His baited compliment scored hook, line, and sinker as her cheeks blushed slightly. He waited patiently to see if it paid off.