Author's Note: The bolded light-blue speech symbolizes the odd mixture of synthetic and natural vocalization.

Enjoy!

??????

Despite Bradley’s mixed feelings, he could not deny the allure. He signed the contract.

‘How many people get the chance to take part in a top-secret military project?’ he rationalized internally, ‘It is possible that this ‘Game’ thing is more dangerous that they’re letting on—after all, why else would they force us to sign such a vague contract—but seriously how bad could it be? I get the opportunity to be a part of this new breakthrough in technology and all I have to do is sit in a pod and get paid. It’s a win-win.’ As he handed back the paper to the Major, he sighed. ‘…and lets face it, I would never be qualified enough to actually take part in this kind of project under normal circumstances. This is probably the only chance I’m ever going to get.’

Of the original eighteen candidates, only six remained. “Well, it’s less than I was expecting, but that’s fine,” the Major commented, having collected all their contracts. “Why don’t you introduce yourselves to each other, maybe say why you decided to stay on? It isn’t exactly an obvious decision as you can tell. It’s going to get a little hectic when we start to tour the facility so it would be best to get this out of the way now.”

“Well alrighty then,” Garry Wood agreed in his light ‘Southern Drawl’. “Ah’m Garry Wood. Ah work as a programmer for Southern United Transport…or Ah guess that’ll be worked from now on. Decided ta stay on for the money, plain and simple. Got a family to feed and an extra 150 big ones a year seemed too good ta pass up.”

“I guess I’ll go next,” one of the woman chimed in. “I’m Maria Gomez. I worked in Radiology at John Hopkins University in Baltimore. Despite the title, I’m more of a Biologist than a Doctor or a Physicist. As for a reason to stay, well, suddenly learning that there is this all-in-one sensory device that can gather biometrics and full-body haptics just for a video game has my curiosity. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone in my field.”

“Same reason for me,” Bradley added, seeing an opportunity to save some time. “I’m a Computer Engineer and the technology of this thing seems completely unbelievable.” He stopped for a moment before awkwardly adding, “Oh, I’m Bradley Cooper by-the-way.”

“I’ll just keep mine short,” a second woman said, “I’m Farida Sharif and I worked as an architect in Boston. I immigrated a while ago and I almost lost my job after the Housing Crash. There’s still a good chance I’ll lose my job in the next few years so...”

“Well, I’ll pitch-in too,” Alex interjected enthusiastically, trying to lighten the tone after the last admission. “I’m Alex Cheng, a Psychologist working out of Florida State. Wanted the money and unlike most of the others, I actually trust the government. They fund half my research and I have a brother in the army. I just figured that—from what was said—this seemed like a pretty sweet deal.”

“I guess we saved the best for last then,” the final unknown woman sarcastically quipped. “My name’s Patricia, I was an accountant, but that doesn’t really matter. I’m here for the same reason as Garry, I needed the money. Let’s just say I want to make some of my debts a thing of the past.”

“Thank you for your open-mindedness,” the Major said, concluding the introductions. “Regardless of the reason, it’s great to see that there are still a few people willing to brave the unknown. Despite what you might see or hear in the coming days, know that the job you are about to undertake may well be the most important one in human history.”

Bradley and the rest of the candidates looked at the Major with confusion, unable to see how a Game could be all that important.

“It might be faster to show you,” the Major smiled. Taking a key, she opened a different door from the one they came in and led them into the room beyond.

This new room was another aluminum hanger; similar to the one they came from. The key differences were twofold. First, the lights high overhead were large and powerful to illuminate the entire thing with ease. The candidates would be glad of this in hindsight, because the second difference concerned the room’s contents. Without such clear brightness, they would have scarcely believed their eyes.

In the center of the room—easily taking over half of its available space—the candidates now stood before an enormous metal object. Over 350 feet long and 150 feet tall and wide, the object towered over them and filled the hanger to the point that should the doors be opened, the object could only barely be guided outside. The simple metal plates on the exterior hide a sophisticated assembly of electrical and mechanical systems. They glowed with millions of small lights and oozed what appeared to be a mirage that distorted the air around it, exuding a barely perceptible but unsettling aura. With four huge hydraulic shafts keeping it elevated from the floor and eight large rocket-like cylindrical protrusions facing them, its purpose seemed obvious to the candidates, despite the strange features.

“A spacecraft?” Garry faltered.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Patricia criticized. “There’s no way that could be real. It’s a prop, right?”

“If it is, then it’s the most convincing one I’ve seen,” Farida replied enthusiastically, her usual mild demeanor gone. “Those metal plates are a titanium alloy; you see on the outside of some modern skyscrapers. You can tell by how pretty they are under the light.” She pointed at one of the bulkheads. “Also see how it all fits together so well? Each piece was carefully machined into place; there are no pieces that aren’t functional. Not only that, my experience is screaming at me that those struts should collapse under that thing’s massive weight. It’s very impressive!”

Bradley nodded his head. “I can also safely say that I’ve never seen electronics like that. All those lights look completely wasteful, yet at the same time there is a pattern there. The mechanical parts at the seams also look really robust. If it’s fake, there wasn’t any expense spared.”

The Major looked at her with surprise. “I’m really impressed you came up with that just by looking at it. You’re right; this is no joke. I am willing to stay here until you are all convinced, but as of six weeks ago, we are no longer alone in the universe.”

“Seriously, aliens?! Are you kidding me?!” Patricia contended.

“I’m not,” the Major replied, shaking her calmly. “As you have already guessed, this is a spaceship. More specifically, this is what the military calls ‘X-Ray 1’ of a race known as the ‘Enforcers’. Coincidentally, this is the second group of aliens the United States Government is currently in contact with at this time.”

Patricia rolled her eyes. “Now you want me to believe that not only are their aliens, but different kinds?”

“From the information we have been able to gather from our limited communications with them, there are at least six other alien species and even more governments,” the Major continued. “The only ones the human race as personally spoken with, however, are Haxlard and Administrators who lead the Enforcers.”

Bradley sighed. “With the absence of concrete proof, can you at least tell us how they contacted us?” Bradley suggested.

“If the female military officer betrays expectations,” a gravelly monotone voice from behind the group declared, “then this one can provide visual proof.”

The candidates turned to see the owner of the voice: an imposing 7 foot tall blue bipedal creature. Despite its impressive height however, its build was skinny and lean. It wore something akin to skin-tight polyester underneath loose-fitting decorative robes. A green half-mask with an etching of a white sun covered the left and upper-right of its face, leaving its mouth and jaw exposed.

With the Major—now behind the candidates—let out a groan. “Allow me to introduce you to the base’s resident alien. He is a member of first race to contact us: the Haxlard.”

“Ultihaxlard, to be specific,” the alien added. The voice sounded wrong to Bradley’s ears; a strange mix of synthetic and natural sounds that did not quite fit. He could not tell if the alien was masculine of feminine just from the voice and began to wonder if these aliens even had gender.

“This one greets those present as Ambassador Bright Star,” the alien continued, “and to interject before interruption, that name comes from translation. This one uses a Translator of Universal Languages to vocalize in the language of Earth-Humans and so grieves if the words of current utilization are unfortunate to those who hear it. The translators used by Administrators render this one trivial in comparison.”

The candidates could only sit there in shock. They wanted to believe that the “alien” could be a prank, but as they looked around for the film crew to jump out at them for a laugh, all they saw were the same heavily-armed soldier as before. In spite of this, they still could not convince themselves of what they were told.

‘Well, there is certainly no way a robot could move that fluidly,’ Bradley concluded to himself, ‘but a man in a suit could pull it off. It would sure be a tight fit though… and considering how tall it is, it’s impressive how a person could control such a thing so well. It walks without stumbling at all.’

“To answer the question posed earlier,” ‘Bright Star’ continued, “the Haxlard sent a Gift of Welcome to the Earth to establish relations.”

“To be more specific, they sent that,” the Major interjected, pointing at an empty egg-like metal container off to one side of the hanger. “That ‘pod’ thing contained a series of metal ‘disks’ that our scientists decoded somehow. I don’t understand how it all works, but apparently we could use the data to talk to them.”

“What the female military officer adequately communicates the situation,” the alien replied. “The disk ‘instructions’ provided position, frequency and amplification settings to transport and collect electromagnetic knowledge for the establishment of communication. This method of conference provides the newly found species time to prepare and has been proved preferable to alternatives.”

A long silence persisted after this. Satisfied that all questions were answered, the alien spoke nothing and the major wanted the candidates to let everything sink in. Thankfully, the human-like appearance and fluent—if strange—English smoothed over much of the shock they had to cope with.

“Uh, alien thing,” Garry got out, “just what exactly did ya come here for?”

The alien frowned ever so slightly—the first emotion it portrayed—before quickly settling to its neutral state again. “It is to this one’s understanding that Earth-Human media commonly convey spacefaring species as contentious and tyrannical. With much assurance, these portrayals will continue as events of fiction. Assuming no miscalculation, the phraseology ‘we come in peace’ yields an optimal summation of this one’s intentions and that of the Haxlard.”

“In short, they aren’t here to kill us,” the Major reassured. “While the Feds may not trust them completely, they want to help us…from what we can tell. We are in trade negotiations at the moment, so the outlook is promising.”

These reassurances—rather than calming the candidates down—cause them only to worry about the clandestine politics going around. ‘Just how much influence do these aliens have?’ Bradley wondered.

“This one validates that statement as unconditionally true,” Bright Star confirmed. “The Enforcer Fleet has ensured the autonomy and security of Earth against foreign influence for a duration not exceeding five decimal one two Solar Earth Years as required under Administrator guidelines. The Haxlard also fall under purview of this regulation. The transaction of goods and services with Earth-humans relies solely on approval by the Earth governing bodies. The Haxlard wish only to aid the Earth in its transition into the Community of Universal Species and-”

“Okay, wait,” Bradley interrupted, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sudden influx of new terms left Bradley and the rest of the candidates confused throughout most of the conversation. “None of this explains why we’re here. If all this crazy alien bullshit is going on, then what the hell do you need a bunch of civilians playing games for?!”

“Does that one’s words verify that the newest Players of the Game stand here?” the Ambassador asked.

“Seriously, what does the Game have to do with all this?” Bradley demanded again.

The Haxlard looked puzzled—only the second time it appeared to display emotion—and looked towards the Major. “Did the female military officer not define the purpose of the Game?”

“I didn’t have time,” the Major sighed, “I thought it would be easier to show them the unbelievable things before telling them about the unbelievable news.”

“Then this conference must be of extraordinary difficulty to comprehend. Allow this one to explain,” the Ambassador replied.

“In the distant past, a war between two powerful races founded the Game,” Bright Star began, “This war between the Predecessors and the Lords of Life caused death among the solar systems they controlled. On many planets, the effects of this war still last. To avoid further calamity, both sides agreed upon the construction of a new virtual world, the Game, in which to conduct their war to its conclusion. The Game would simulate the death and destruction in a perfect and realistic way. To enforce the consequences of this new space, both sides relinquished control of their fleets to the Game. These ships became the first Enforcers. Neither side wanted their fate solely under the control of a machine, so the Administrators were formed. This group could verify the fairness and balance of the new System such that none could deny the outcome of the war. Thanks to these actions, there need not be any loss of life from battle.”

“Alright… well ignoring all the ‘crazy’ I think I understand,” Bradley replied. “So the Game is a place where alien wars are fought, the Administrators enforce the laws of this ‘Virtual World’ and the Enforcers enforce the law in the Real World, right?

“These words convey an impression of legitimacy,” the Ambassador confirmed. “In summation, the standing of a Faction within the Game determines the quantity of resources and territory that Faction governs in the True Universe.”

“Then why us?” Farida spoke up, who until know looked at the Major in an attempt to ignore the alien standing only a few feet away. “All this sounds important… and we aren’t exactly ‘the best of the best’.”

“Because the Administrators said so,” the Major replied unequivocally. “Normally you would be right and only the best trained people would be taking part, but for one reason or another, you candidates have an edge in the Game. That’s an edge we desperately need right now. As it stands, there is very little in the way of the virtual Earth being conquered.”

“But why does it matter? I don’t get it,” Patricia asked. “So what if the Earth gets ‘conquered’ in some game.”

“Should the Earth be conquered in the Game,” the alien stated, “the Earth in the True Universe capitulates in kind to the conqueror’s demands through Enforcer intervention.”

This statement lead to another long moment of silence.

“Still, our position isn’t helpless,” the Major chimed in to break the mood. “As Ambassador Bright Star mentioned, we have five years to figure everything out. The Administrators have explained the rules to us, and have even provided us with many Game Capsules free-of-charge. Not only that, but all he important governments are working together right now on finding any alternatives.”

“But-” Patricia started to say before a brief alarm sounded off.

“Is it that time already?” the Major asked rhetorically, looking down at her watch. “Sorry, but we’re a bit behind schedule so I don’t think I will have time to answer the rest of your questions right now.” She looked at the group’s expressions with a frown. “I apologize, honestly I do, but there will be plenty of time to figure this all out and I have more orientations to do today. Hopefully the Game’s Tutorial and Lieutenant Winslow will straighten-out any of your remaining questions.”

She turned and opened the door to the conference room before mentioning one final thing. “Just remember, this is reality. Don’t turn away from it.”

“The female military officer speaks the truth,” the Ambassador nodded in agreement. “All benefit from their experience with the Game; rationality exists in such a choice.”

The candidates found little about the current situation rational.

The Game Clandestine Facility, ??????

With the introduction out of the way, the confused candidates were ushered into a long hallway. All along the walls of the corridor were rooms with a single window in which the candidates peered into as they passed. Each room held a solitary metal “egg-like” with a variety of strange alien devices attached to it. Next to these devices, they could see a small medical station with various first-aid supplies and instruments scattered about.

“In here, please,” a man instructed before grabbing Bradley by his blazer and dragging him into one of the rooms.

As he entered, he could see that the other five candidates were also “escorted” into the other rooms by other men and women. With the door shut behind him, Bradley could see who pulled him inside. The older man was seated on a stool next to the simple desk on the wall. He wore light-blue scrubs underneath a lab coat.

“Have a seat,” the man instructed pointing to an examination table next to the desk. Bradley could detect a hint of an accent, but he could not place it.

“Uh, sure…” Bradley replied, still too overwhelmed to think straight at the moment.

“You are Bradley Cooper, correct?” the man asked. Bradley nodded his head.

“Good, then I have the right information,” he replied before grabbing a clipboard with his pen and writing something down. “My name is Dr. Fitzgerald and I’ll be performing a routine physical. After that, we’ll have you go through an MRI and CT scan just to cover all our bases before you ‘jump’ into the Game.”

“Right…” Bradley muttered. Then his mind caught up to what he heard. “Hey wait a second! I thought that these Capsule things were supposed to be safe!”

“Oh it is, really,” the Doctor brushed off, tapping his pen on his clipboard. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’s true that these Capsules are still being understood, but they are marvels of science. We have hundreds of people in them right now with no problems.”

“Then what do I need all these scans for?!” Bradley contended.

“This is an experiment,” the Doctor replied, an eyebrow cocked at the question. “How do you think we get the data if we don’t perform any scans?”

“Oh…uh, right. That makes sense.”

Just as the Dr. Fitzgerald said, after a brief physical—in which Bradley changed into a hospital gown—the Doctor escorted him to another wing of the base where he and the other candidates were lined up and given scans. When those were finished, they each went back into their respective rooms and entered their Game Capsules.

“Let’s get started then,” Bradley muttered as he slowly lowered himself into the alien pod. The Doctor nodded his head and gave him a sober look before pressing a button which closed the Capsule.

As soon as the pod’s hatch closed, Bradley felt a strange gel begin to form at his ankles, slowly making its way up his body. With the inside of the Capsule being pitch black, he had no way of seeing the cause of the sticky sensation and gave a yelp in surprise.

“Hey, Doctor!” Bradley yelled, “Is it supposed to do this?!”

The liquid now made its way quickly up his body and towards his head.

“Hey! Let me out of this thing!” he cried, now banging his fists against the pod. His blows made no progress against the metal. ‘Shit, I think I really screwed up,’ he thought gravely, ‘why the hell did I sign that contract!’

“Doctor! Please let me-!” Bradley screamed before the gel finally completely submerged him. A moment later, his lungs filled with the liquid and his mind lost consciousness.

Game Capsule D-1410092184

[table=grey][email protected]ÿf9xZDcéÅoôD#[/table]

[table=grey]Preferred Language Detected: English (Earth, Sol)[/table]

[table=grey]----Location----33.824107 Geographic Coordinate Degrees Latitude-106.653261 Geographic Coordinate Degrees LongitudeEarth, Sol System[/table]

[table=grey]Unique Biological Storage Markers Extracted:DNADNA does not match any on recordNew user detected.Beginning Registration Setup Procedure…[/table]

As Bradley’s consciousness returned, he saw several messages appear before him. The windows they were written on were impossibly flat and thin. They glowed such that they were clear yet did not appear bright and followed his eyes wherever they moved.

As more of the prompts continued to reveal themselves—dictating the progress of various “subroutines” and “processes” in the background, Bradley began to wake up and remember how and why he found himself in this place.

‘Is this the Game?’ he thought to himself, ‘Well, if it is, they were blatantly wrong about the whole ‘realism’ thing. Unless they think endless expanse of nothing exists in real life…’

As he looked around, the only words he could use to describe it was “White Abyss”. No shadows, shapes, or even direction prevailed in this world; just an endless expanse of white with only the “Windows” providing any indication of perspective and depth.

He wanted to put his hand in front of him to gauge his surroundings, but found that he could not; his hand did not respond. In fact, his body did not respond at all. He tried to look down, but he only saw the same white as everything else. Without gravity or any force whatsoever, he no longer knew what was up or down. In fact, only a faint resistance when he “turned” gave him any indication of feeling at all. There was a total lack of sensory perception.

‘Oh God, what is this place?!’ he demanded, but he could not hear his voice. ‘No feeling, no body, no voice… I’m dead. That’s the only explanation. Oh God why… why did I do this I-’

As he rambled on, his anxiety grew. This only became worse when he found that the “hyperventilating” he performed was all in his mind; he could not breathe. These sensations—or lack thereof—caused his mind to lose grasp of itself. With nothing to focus on, it could only focus on panic and fear. It was to such an extent that he did not notice when the screens finally finished showing progress. Only one screen remained:

Setup CompleteDo you want to begin registration?ConfirmDecline

It took Bradley a moment to work through enough of his hysteria to even read the words on the Window. ‘Registration, what?! C-c-could t-this really be the Game?!’ he stuttered, yet his words did not come out. ‘W-what is… do I want to begin? No! HELL NO! Get me the hell out of here!’ He screamed silently in frustration. ‘Why won’t it just hit ‘decline’-”

As soon as he “spoke” that final word, the a prevailing blackness consumed the white environment and Bradley suddenly felt the slimy ooze once again flow off of his body. As soon as the sensation left, the lid of the Capsule opened and the light from beyond poured in from the room beyond, forcing him to cover his eyes. Although his mind imagined he had been in there for little more than a few minutes, his body disagreed. He felt weak; as though just awakening from a long nap.

“Oh? Back so soon?” Dr. Fitzgerald asked, looking at him from behind his clipboard. “Let me guess, quit before even getting to the registration screen, right?”

“W-w-what t-the hell was that?!” Bradley gasped, grabbing the sides of the pod as he tried to cough out slime that was no longer there. He shivered, the drowning sensation and sensory deprivation still clear in his mind. He quickly stepped out of the capsule and grabbed onto the examination table next to it for support.

“T-this is c-c-completely insane!” Bradley yelled before grabbing the Doctor by the cuff of his coat. “Y-you don’t understand! There was nothing! It was like… like I was dead; completely disconnected from everything!”

“Oh damnit!” the Doctor groaned, realizing what context of what Bradley said the words. “Did they seriously not tell you anything about the process? I know they have a tight schedule, but to throw you people to the wolves is-”

“They’re lying to us,” Bradley uttered frantically directly at the Doctors face, “this has to be a conspiracy! They want to brainwash us or-”

“Get a hold of yourself!” the Doctor demanded, shaking Bradley by the shoulders. The action caused the engineer to release his grasp and lean heavily on the desk. “I know you are confused, but think carefully about this! Why do they need us?”

“What?” Bradley asked, the fear slowly draining away as confusion set in. His legs and the table no longer supporting him adequately, he sat down on the floor against the examination table to take a break.

“Let me tell you a little story,” the Doctor started. “Five-and-a-half weeks ago, NORAD picked up an unidentified object orbiting north-to-south and approaching the United States. It had a similar speed and trajectory as a ballistic missile. It was only the lone target so they thought it might have been that some fanatical group in Russia or North Korea got hold of an intercontinental missile that worked. The US anti-ballistic missile defense system fired six missiles against it. Four of those hit with enough force to vaporize a skyscraper and yet it didn’t even scratch the paint. We know because we have it in the hanger next door.”

“So what if-“

“So what?” the Doctor interrupted before Bradley could get a word in. “Let me tell you what. Those Enforcers have absolute control. That ship in the hanger is one of several they have in orbit. At the speeds we’ve seen them travel, even just dropping some spare parts would be enough to destroy many of our cities. With that kind of power, why do they bother to negotiate? Heck, what are even a few billion evolved monkeys good for? They could just annihilate us all and strip-mine the planet for resources. We wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“T-that isn’t helping your point,” Bradley stuttered, frightened by what he was hearing.

“Don’t you see? The only explanation is that they are telling the truth! The only rational explanation for their actions is charity. They want our culture and species to survive. They are giving us a fighting chance.”

“But none of this explains that thing!” Bradley disputed, weakly pointing at the Capsule with a shivering arm.

The Doctor sighed. “Alright. I know this situation is tense. I know you have had a lot put on you all at once, but you need to look at the facts,” he calmly stated, staring Bradley dead in the eyes. “The Capsule needs just a few short minutes to prepare everything before it brings you into the Game. During that time, a lot of your senses won’t work. We don’t know why, but we imagine that the pod needs to acclimate itself to you. I promise; once you register with the Game, everything will be fine. We have just under three hundred people using these Capsules regularly as we speak. Not one of them has had any complaints once they’ve gone in.”

“No, forget it,” Bradley denied. Too overwhelmed at the moment, he rose from off the floor and began to walk to the door.

“Hold on!” the Doctor declared, roughly grabbing Bradley by the arm, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Where do you think? I’m getting the hell out of here!”

“You’re running away?” the Doctor asked, staring intently at the younger man. “That’s it? You get a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fight for humanity’s right to exist and you want to leave?”

“Well if you think it’s so damn great, why don’t you just hop in then?!” Bradley argued.

“I can’t,” the Doctor plainly replied, releasing Bradley’s arm.

He rolled his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s what I-” Bradley began to say before the words caught up, “Wait, what do you can’t?”

“That’s just it, I can’t. I’m sure they mentioned it in the orientation, right? You candidates were specially chosen by the Administrators as ‘ideal’ people for the Game for whatever reason. It’s a long list and there are only a limited number of Capsules. If you don’t use it, we’ll find somebody else who will. It’s as simple as that.”

“Why do you keep listening to their crap?! Why do you trust the aliens so much?!”

“What choice do we have?!” the Doctor demanded, staring Bradley dead in the eyes. “I’m sure the government has their best minds racking their brains on that very question, making contingency and backup plans on how to handle the aliens. If they turn against us, we will fight them with everything we’ve got. But if they are telling the truth, or if those plans fail, you and the others are all we’ve got.”

Seeing that Bradley still hesitated, the Doctor sighed and walked towards the door.

“Look at it this way,” Fitzgerald continued, “You can walk out this door, put your fingers in your ears and just forget everything you’ve seen and heard today. It’s possible. You’ll have to stay on base and will be monitored every day until we tell the world about this, but it can be done. Then what? In five years, the alien ‘protection’ expires and all hell breaks loose. If humanity doesn’t have its shit together by then… well, I don’t know what will happen, but it won’t be in our control.”

He opened the door and stood away from it. “Those are the facts. What will you do? Stay or go?”

Bradley found himself surprised at his hesitation. He felt certain a moment ago, but now he wavered. ‘Is he right?’ he thought to himself. ‘Well he and the Major were right about one thing, this is the real world.’ He shook his head. ‘Should I walk away though? It’s true that it freaked me right the hell out, but was it really that bad? This is supposed to be amazing alien technology and it really was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Even if that white abyss was all there was, wouldn’t it be worth it if it meant I could be doing something new? Isn’t that what I wanted? I mean, seriously. If I think about it, in a way, it’s like being an astronaut. One step into the screwed up alien pod for mankind.’

Bradley sighed and stretched for a moment before moving back towards the Game Capsule. “I suppose I should at least try it,” he muttered.

“Thank you,” the Doctor smiled sincerely, “I promise you, you won’t regret it. I haven’t met a single Player who has.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bradley replied with a hint of anger. “Now is this really it? Nothing else I need to know?”

The Doctor thought for a moment.

“Oh yeah!” he declared. “There is one thing. If there is ever a question or anything you need in the Game, think System followed by the question and the Game will answer you.”

“You know,” Bradley grumbled, “a lot of these things sound pretty important. Have you ever thought about putting this stuff in a manual or something?”

“Of course, we are compiling the data as we speak,” the Doctor smiled, “that’s why you’re here.”

As the Game Capsule lid closed once again, Bradley groaned, staring back at the man with unrestrained contempt.