Cheering crowds were celebrating their way down the arena avenue toward their favourite party spot. In minutes the cafés, diners, and entertainment committee hotspots would be packed. He was supposed to be working today, but had decided earlier in the week that he was going to blow off his shift. It not like he would have made it anyway.

He wouldn’t be able to step foot in the café without catching hell from his shift manager. He was a member of a Squad now! Didn’t they know that his role in the games trumped everything? Could he tell the manager to take it up with Captain Clark? Sure, it was his choice to work those hours, but that was before he found out that Captain Clark was an unreasonable control freak. He’d have to work out his schedule if he ever wanted to see an end to his servitude.

He sat at the steps of the educational tower, watching the tide of the students surge their way into cramped cafés. Squad VII’s favourite spot was bursting with people, all hoping to bask in the presence of their heroes. He always wanted to be there when Seth retold some of his favourite bits of the game. This time, he was sure people were dying to hear about what happened off-feed. They’d want to know if the squad had anything to do with interrupting the feed, just for the luxury of being part of the group in the know. Players of Squad VII’s caliber would never tell. Intentionally damaging the feed would have some heavy consequences, even IF the school encouraged students to hack the systems. Lives were at stake, and those feeds were often the only evidence available to support the facts in dangerous situations.

Reality aside, William sure as hell wanted to know what happened off-camera. He could imagine the tactics a player could get away with when the only system in place to hold a person accountable was blind. How would they go about it? For sure a topic like that would be discussed at length in the forums; even a teacher might try to leverage the event as a learning opportunity. Classes were going to be interesting next week.

William watched as Squad VII’s non-combatants were some of the first on the scene. Erick entered the café, hands in the air while chanting “Seven. Seven. Seven.” His chant was a half growl and came out as a bark. It didn’t take long for fans to join him in his chorus, increasing the momentum and pitch until a wave of cheers and hollers replaced the chant. Erick was the most recognizable of his unit. He had square features and crooked nose of a guy who loved a good fight. The fresh bruise on his face suggested that his nose had been broken in the last few days. He maintained a crew cut, a preferred hair style for many males in the military branch of the Academy. Smith and Roberts were never far from their unit leader. Their participation in the games varied, though the only players who’d know why would be their fellow squad members.

Smith liked to keep his hair long and bound in a thin pony tail. The girls loved it. It helped that he had one of those genuine charming smiles that made the recipient feel like they were the only person that mattered. Roberts was much more awkward to watch. He was tall and thin with the gaunt features of a guy who spends too much time in front of a screen. Both Roberts and smith belonged to the science and technology branch of the Academy. Where Captain Clarke felt that strength lay in the uniformity and consistency of their training, piggy-backing on the existing training in the Military branch, Seth had a variety of educational vocations in his squad. William suspected that the wide variety of talents gave Squad VII a wider range of solutions to key problems; solutions that a single focused training regime would never consider.

As non-participating-combatants, they wore their dress uniform out of respect for the games. William always liked the dress uniforms over the combat gear. The dress uniform reminded him of the player’s importance, it had a look that projected a confident regal importance without over-doing it. Technically, he should have been in his dress uniform, but like all other members in his squad, they were ordered to wear their combat uniform. “Battles are won on and off the field. Remember, you are always in enemy territory. You are always under attack.” Captain Clark struck William as being excessively paranoid.

He wasn’t sure if it was out of awe or general politeness that average students would give their congratulations to NPCs, but he did know that the players operated on entirely separate set of rules from the general student population. In the games, you could come from a backwater middle of nowhere town like Clearwater and get respect from his peers. Money, privilege, birthright, none of it mattered in the games.

As an average student, he couldn’t hope to squeeze his way into the café, but as a player, the students would make room. Not that he could go into the wolves den today, but the point is, he could if he wanted to. Still no sign of Seth, Astral or any of the other players.

At the top of the stairs to the political educational tower, William stood on his toes and craned his head in a futile attempt to see further down the road that lead to the active stadium.

Squad VIII’s last two surviving players we chatting up Gemma. Gemma was a large heavy set guy who dwarfed the competing players in stature. He had the reputation of being the strong silent type, some people assumed that was because he only thought what Seth told him to think. One massive hand on each players’ shoulders ground their conversation to a stop. “Guys, it’s been a long game. I just want to sit back and have myself a couple of fizzy drinks.” Fear echoed between the survivors. “Why don’t you have a drink, on me, while we wait on your friends to get cleared.” The fear turned to relief and the trio melted into the mass of students to a chorus of cheers. William could see the competitors clapping and cheering with the masses, oblivious to the hissing a jeering of Squad VII’s fans.

Silence fell over the café at Gemma’s urging, leaving the students hanging off of every word. William would have killed to have heard what he was saying. Suddenly a cluster of students burst into tears and dashed off from the celebration, friends in toe just as upset. One student collapsed in tears and hugs before making it to the door. What on Earth happened?

William reminded himself of the consequences of stepping over the café’s threshold today. He had a job to do and he didn’t want to deal with whatever punishment Captain Clark was bound to dish out should he fail her.

The twins entered soon after. In a couple of minutes their confusion was cleared up and replaced with the somber worry that dominated their party. Erick slammed his fists against the table, shouting at Gemma. “I TOLD YOU THAT NOOB HAD NO PLACE ON THE FIELD!” Only an idiot wouldn’t have known that Erick was referring to Astral. William smirked, looks like her time on the squad was going to be short lived after all. Whatever happened, it was obviously her fault.

Gemma waved off Erick’s claim, telling him to calm down. At least that’s what William assumed. Short of Erick’s shouting, William couldn’t hear much of anything indoors. He hoped that his fill-in-the-blanks theater was close to the truth.

Regina made her entrance with Hope at her side. Hope dragged her feet along the street, watching each interlocking stone with disinterest. The regal beauty and Seth’s ex, Regina, looked dishevelled and generally worn out. He couldn’t understand how the combatants managed to get so exhausted after basically hanging out for half the day. The girls didn’t speak to one another; maybe nothing needed to be said. They hesitated when they reached the party, watching the masses of students expecting some sort of news. Hope pinched her cheeks, tightened her pony tail and smiled as broadly as she could. “We won the first game of the year! And people are going to be talking about this game for years!” Hope nudged Regina whose spirits refused to be lifted.

A deep breath later and Regina opened the door and welcomed a new wave of greetings. They joined their team, shook hands with the surviving competitors who had chosen that moment to make an exit. Was this his chance?

He walked down the steps with every intention of speaking with the players of Squad VIII for the big news bomb. Their fellow squad mates joined them, sharing in their own news. He closed the distance, hands in pocket, he tried to make it look like he was heading to the café, not that he could get in. Eaves dropping might work just as well.

“The Commissioners were all, ‘did you blow up the bridge?’ And we all said, ‘nah man, we actually want to win the game.’ I mean like seriously, blowing that bridge up really fucked us up. What were those old timers thinking? I mean like really? Like I want to starve to death out in that god damn arena. Everyone knows that quitting a game hurts your score. I want to have kids some day you know.”

“Yeah, they asked us the same thing. I was like: Seriously! My orders were to watch the bridge. I watched it explode. It wasn’t like I could do shit about it even if I wanted to.’ They were really bent out of shape over that bridge. I was like: ‘You know a pillar got blown up too, right?’ and like, nothing, didn’t even care. But that’s some crazy shit using that pillar like a bridge, that little scene is going to down in the record books.”

“I don’t think so. Apparently, the feed went dead when the bridge blew.”

“No way! The whole thing?”

“Well, apparently they have everything up until the bridge blew, but the file is like massively corrupted. They have some techs on it to try to recover as much data that they can. You can bet your bottom credit there’s a ton of tech geeks just wetting themselves to pick up that feed for their term project.” The group laughed. One of the players looked over his shoulder for the third time, making eye contact with William. He couldn’t afford to follow them anymore. Squad IV might be mostly military but they still had standards and he was getting dangerously close the Enhanced hang-outs.

Pretending that the next hangout was his favourite café, he ducked out of the flow of students and into unfamiliar territory. In five minutes, he’d make his way back to watch for Seth and Astral, but for the time being he needed to play it cool. He stood at the bar, pretending to look over the students for a familiar face, knowing he’d see none. His friends would never hang out in such a low brow area, by the looks of it, the class of student who made this place their own were top-worlders. They weren’t as bad as the Enhanced, but they were the sort of people where whole towns would contribute to send a promising child to the Academy.

His father had always told him, “Don’t judge a book by its cover. All people have value; they all have a story; they are all worth knowing.” Shows what his dad knew. If he spent all of his time becoming friends with every top-worlder, he’d have no time for anything. He wouldn’t be a real friend anyway. He’d just be one of those losers who likes to think that they know everyone in the whole school and therefore they are well liked. He was satisfied with the knowledge that he was not one of those people and that the connections he did make were genuine and long lasting.

It wasn’t like you could tell a top-worlder from someone who lived in the capitol. Astral was a top-worlder like him. But Astral’s rank trumped his because she had wealth, land, and would inherit a few million lives to dictate over. He was just a Red Order Master Hunter’s son. It wasn’t like he could inherit his father’s title, connections, or skills. Out of respect for the service his father offered, he definitely had some perks, but not nearly as many as what money could buy. Astral didn’t even have the genetic predisposition of becoming a Hunter, while he did. What was she going to do? Throw credits at the demons until they went away.

If someone like Astral were measured against someone with her wealth in capitol, Astral would be a nobody. And that’s the thing Astral just doesn’t seem to get; she’s a nobody. The capitol is where all the politicians who made the real decisions lived. They had control over a nation. If the law makers closed off the capitol, where would she be? Probably in the capitol because her grandfather is one of those politician, now that he thought about it. He pouted.

By the time he had made his way back to the café, a series of bells chimed across the campus. Curfew would be in effect in one hour. Lights were starting to turn on offering little contrast in the pre-night light. He worried that he had missed his targets while he was eaves dropping on Squad VIII. The crowd at the café was dwindling as students prepared for the trek to their dorms. The political branch students and the elite always lingered the longest, having the shortest distance to travel. He was relieved to see many of Squad VII’s players sitting in their booth, monitoring feeds, responding to requests, and answering questions with standard no information statements.

Students left the café in groups of two to six. William didn’t mind long walks alone, it gave him time to think. It didn’t really matter where he was going, mostly because he never really paid attention to the world around him when he was in his head. It was nice to have time to himself.

Erick was the first of the squad to leave the café. “Those losers know how to bring down a party or what. You’d think it was the end of the world was coming or something.” He stretched, enjoying the space to reach out as far as he could. William waved at the trio as he approached. Erick’s curt nod was offered as acknowledgement, but his attention was held by his friend.

“Can’t blame them really. Seth’s been their meal ticket for a couple of years now. I mean it’s why we’re still hanging on, right? A triple win looks better on the old CV than losing in our last year. We wouldn’t want to look like we peaked too soon,” Smith said.

“Maybe they shouldn’t be a bunch of leeches and actually pull their weight. Those losers just sat around while Seth stole the show. Like always. He’s a fucking glory hog and he got what he deserved. If we’re lucky, he’s out of commission for the season and yours truly will get promoted. Anyway, what do you say we take this party up a few notches over at my place.”

Roberts shifted and avoided eye contact with the larger player. “Nah you guys can do whatever. It’s nearly curfew and I got things I should sort out.”

“Don’t be a wuss,” Erick growled.

“I’m not wussing out. I’ve got shit to do,” Roberts added sternly. “Seth said he thought the cams were rigged. I was supposed to look into it before game time but didn’t. You have no fucking idea what I’m going through right now.”

Smith nodded, sympathy pulling at his faded smile. Erick snorted. “No one did shit to anything. Seth’s just fucking paranoid. He’s, like, seeing demons everywhere these days. The guy is a fucking liability and should be ousted before one of us gets hurt.”

What was it with this guy and getting Seth kicked from the game? Everyone wanted to be Seth, William reminded himself. No, everyone wanted to prove that they were as good as Seth. Was there a difference in the grand scheme of things? They didn’t want to be him, so much as wanting the things that he had. Wasn’t that the same thing?

And what this about Seth is seeing demons? Was there something wrong with him? Like mentally? No one survived seeing a demon, apart from his father that is, and his dad never talked about Hunting. Every time he brought up the topic, his dad would change the subject.

So far William’s presence was ignored by the trio. Torn between wanting more insider leaks caused by loose lips and wanting to avoid a similar awkwardness to what he experienced with Squad VIII, he chose to speak up. “Hey there, I’m looking for Astral. I didn’t see her inside…” He hoped that was enough to have them fill the rest with something other than sarcasm.

“What’s it to you, Four?” Erick’s eyes were on fire. Was this competitiveness, or was he afraid that William over heard more than he should have? He’d deny everything, just for the sake of his own safety. There was no reason to get someone like Erick on his case. People got hurt around this guy. How he managed to not get booted from the school, he had no idea. But give how the system favoured Astral over Sarah in their little tiff a month back, he could manage a guess.

“She’s a family friend and I want to make sure that she’s all right.” He sounded bolder than he meant to. Erick took a step forward, violence reflecting on his face. “You need to learn you some respect.”

William was never so grateful to see Gemma as he caught Erick by the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Nothin’ wrong with asking after a friend, Erick. You’re being an ass. Again.” Gemma was just plain old intimidating to look at. He was practically a giant by William’s standards. He always looked like he was working out something pretty heavy in his head. When he spoke, it always came as a surprise.

“Oh so it speaks!” Erick spat. Gemma’s lips parted to make way for his bright smile. It was a striking contrast to his skin. William had never seen skin as dark as his among the people of Clearwater. Sure, Kendra and her grandfather were dark, but not nearly at the same level as Gemma.

“Astral’s probably been detained by the Gaming Commission. They are none too happy about the property damage and they have concerns about live ammunition used on the field.”

“Live!”

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Anyway, they’re probably just keeping her late to scare her straight. No top-worlder wants to walk home alone in the dark.”

That was true. Everyone knew that demons lurked in the night, hunting for fresh kills to drag off into the wilds. Collecting missing people reports was one of the first stops during his father’s daily routines. He preferred to visit with the local law enforcement instead of just downloading the information. People who didn’t abide by curfew got eaten by demons. Top-worlders were the most sensitive to consequences of disobeying those rules. Everyone knew someone who had gone missing at some point in their lives. Sometimes, if they were lucky, a body would turn up.

“I can’t wait to see her piss herself when they send her to her dorm tonight.” Erick’s chortled was joined by his friends. Gemma stared down at them, cutting their laughter short.

The giant shrugged. “Erick here is just bitter that our newbie has a bigger set of balls.”

Erick lunged at Gemma, but got caught up in his friends who held him back. “That prissy cunt ain’t got nothin’ on me!”

“First game, she kept up with Seth like it was nothing-“

“That’s ‘cause he babied her, OBVIOUSLY!” Erick rolled his eyes and huffed.

Gemma nodded. “Could be. The game did last long enough. But if you figure she had to drag his unconscious body across the play zone to the gate…it was bound to take a while too."

She did what? How’d she manage that? And no one has any feed to prove it either. Could it be hearsay? Or did they see her do it?

“Let’s face it, not one of us would have bothered to bring a fallen soldier back to base. Not. A. Single. One. We’re trained to leave them. A fallen soldier is a liability. At worse a burden on the system. Leave them behind.” William couldn’t tell if Gemma was ashamed or just proving a point that he had been mulling over for a while.

“Yeah, that cause she’s a noob and too stupid to know different,” Erick spat. “I’m not bowing down to that little shit, I don’t care if she pulls the cure to the demon plague out of her ass.”

“Maybe you’re right and she’s too green to know any better. But maybe we need someone who’s not all about the games to pull us together.”

“Good for you then, Gemma. While you’re off in the Killing Fields you can get your ass handed to you ‘cause you were playing the hero instead of doing your job. That sounds like a fan-fucking-tastic plan!”

Erick rounded on William, “You got your answer, Four. Your ‘friend’ is detained until curfew, now fuck off.”

There was nothing else to do. He didn’t even know where her dorm room was, let alone what sector she was staying in. She had a mixed schedule, so she could be anywhere. There was no sense in risking getting caught out past curfew. The last thing he wanted was spending the night in the old barracks. He shuddered at the thought. “Thanks for your help, it was swell,” he mumbled when he was sure he was out of Erick’s reach.

He’d have to find Astral in the morning. Captain Clark would not be impressed, but at least he had a snippet of information that might hold her over until he was able to get more information.