Simon waited like a lighthouse, watching the waves of PM crash around him. A smile beamed cautiously out of him, etched deep within his face.

Brinn and Yeung-Sung shared a knowing look. He doesn’t salute; He’s not with them. The sea of phones still wavered in the air, hands thumbing ‘send’, setting up macros and pressing again.

“Oh. That’s where he is.”

Yeung-Sung turned back; It was the Fighter, out again now that the chants had calmed.

“That’s our third, the guy on the mic.” He kept his vape clenched in his mouth as he talked.

“Oh,” Brinn said. “Well all of this is a lot to take in.” He pretended to faint.

What the hell are you trying to accomplish? Yeung-Sung cringed, yet the Fighter waltzed in between them and patted Brinn’s back. “Don’t worry, man.”

Why bother?

The mic boomed. “Glad you could all make it,” said an Australian wearing the same jumpsuit as the Fighter beside Brinn.

Now he looks like a fighter.

“We’ve been looking for some answers from GLI since the reset. Tonight, we get our opportunity.”

Hounding his arms over the sides of the podium, the Fighter accepted the applause of PM. Then he turned to Simon, hounding over him in that same aggressive manner, saying,

“We’ve kept our suspicions below board, but over the past few days we’ve been suspecting that foul play’s been happening on your side.”

Simon had been smiling until the last line, only now noticing that PM’s figurehead leering at him. The British researcher tugged on his waistcoat.

Continuing, the Fighter said, “Thank you for agreeing to come out and defend GLI’s relative inaction.” He bent the microphone cord towards Simon, but the Brit still had to take a step closer before his voice was picked up and illuminated across the Market.

“-final stage of our experiment. As such, we are now trusting that the developed factions of the colony are able to figure out Airgead.” Coughing, he added, “Um, yours in particular.”

The third Fighter pulled the mic back, staring at Simon. “Right.”

Muting the mic with his palm, he sent a whistling crackle through PM. The others watched in confusion as he said a few words to the GLI researcher before continuing, but Yeung-Sung grinned to himself.

Not what you expected, is he?

The Fighter had lost the momentum in his voice and built it up slowly as he announced, “Well, I was one of the first to discover something odd about the Gauntlet.”

The whole of PM seemed suspended. Except for Brinn.

“He’s part of your group?” he asked the Fighter. “Wow! Must be a lot of pressure.”

“Whatever, we’re all part of the same team.”

“Well,” Brinn began with a flick of his beard, “Why aren’t you down there?”

The Fighter plugged up his mouth answer with a vape. His comrade below resumed.

“I was under the assumption, Simon, that the gauntlets are challenges of incremental difficulty, yes, but in static, predictable patterns.” He emphasised each descriptor with a wave of his pinched hand.

Simon bulged out of his coat pockets. One would assume he was on the defensive, but Yeung-Sung knew that this was his natural go-to.

Scooting a little closer to the mic, the Fighter said, “But it seems that after every Gauntlet we defeat the next one is setup to counter the specifics of the previous fight.”

“OOH!” PM hissed.

“And not only that, there are sometimes counter strategies in place before we even try them. Almost as if…it’s known.”

“As if there’s a GLI scientist monitoring our activity and screwing us over!”

He ended by thrusting the mic over.

“Hmm,” thought Simon aloud, “Well I don’t recall anything that resembles that specific issue. As I said, we’ve been busy preparing –”

The mic failed to pick up what the Fighter shouted at Simon, but Yeung-Sung didn’t think that anyone at the balcony envied his position.

Holding a finger up until he was given a chance to speak, Simon looped a keyring around it, the jangling obscuring any comment they might’ve heard from the Fighter.

“You’re mistaken in your assumptions,” Simon finally continued, “No person outside the 1000 coloners has an Airgead account, or access to someone else’s. Why would we compromise years of work right before we end?”

It clearly wasn’t the answer he was looking forward, but he took the mic, quietly propping it between the two of them.

“So you deny it then.”

“I do.”

“How about when I tell you about our recent transaction history.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Kelly-Ann gasped. “That’s confidential! He wouldn’t tell him that.” She covered her mouth as soon as she said it and shook her tiny head.

This accusation must be true if they’re willing to expose themselves to the other factions.

“Often, we have to transfer large amounts of materials or money –”

“-Medals, you mean,” Simon cut in.

The fighter rattled his head, slamming a hand to his face.

Yeung-Sung stifled a laugh. I know how you feel.

“Yeah, medal, whatever.” The fighter pulled the mic closer to himself. “We trade these at the lowest possible price. To facilitate this, we sync our transaction times on the market, purchasing the goods at the same time they are put on sale, before anyone has a chance to accidently swoop in and buy half our stock of swords or something.

“Except that recently we’ve had several trades snatched away before even we could tap ‘buy’.”

“THIEF!” The crowd roared.

Simon whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. A calm smile approaching his lips, the Fighter jabbed out his hand.

“How could this happen unless there is someone with inside knowledge on your end?”

“Yes, well, I can understand your confusion, thought I technically told you the truth” Simon said. He flapped and folded his yellow kerchief before stuffing it neatly into his chest pocket. “Even I don’t know what happens in Airgead. No person could’ve done these things, I think, anyway”

“What?”

Yeung-Sung pulled his phone close to his mouth. I think I understand.

“MEDB?” he whispered.

He whispered again, but she didn’t respond. Growing frustrated, he put it down once several trainees began to eye him, leaving it half-outside his pocket.

Yeung-Sung knew her auditory capabilities; she was well able to hear him.

“I know you can hear me,” he said, barely more than mouthing out the words, “Tell me if this is you. Tell me you didn’t do this.”

Below, Simon coughed. “The thing is…,” he said, “Airgead, the Gauntlet, it’s all run via an Artificial Intelligence.”

He continued as PM scrambled to comprehend what he told them.

“If it gave itself more privileges, then I suppose… hmm, it must think you’re more than capable. That you need a bigger challenge.”

Yeung-Sung heard the night breeze flap billow the tarp over. Recognising no thing needed to be said, all of them rushed to spread the news over their phones. Tilting his own phone towards himself he checked for any signs of MEDB. There was no text written on the screen, no menus tabbed through, no motion on his app except for his avatar idly stretching himself, all alone.

Gripping the mic, the Fighter’s mouth hung open.

“Could I have that? Sorry.” Simon said. “This might make more sense if he explained it.”

There was no need to explain who he was.

While Simon was gesturing out over the mass of phones, each of the hundreds of the back-lit screens vomited out a bubble of energy above them. The energy mixed with static flecks to form an upended cone of electric-blue that focused into a personal hologram of Jordan for everybody at PM.

Unable to respond, unable to breathe, Yeung-Sung faced his phone down. Yet the hologram remained, sticking down off the screen like a stubborn droplet. But even if his face wasn’t in front of Yeung-Sung, it was still all around him. Falling backwards, Yeung-Sung tried to crawl away from the group, away from fucking Jordan!

Brinn caught him by the collar. “Hey. I know it’s hard.” He was leaning over him, calm and focused. Is this another act?

Hoisting him up with a hug, he brushed the collar back down. “You can’t leave yet; There’s something you need to see.”

Yeung-Sung looked down below for only a second before he winced his eyes shut.

“I – I think I’ve seen enough.”

“Yeung-Sung, I’m sorry for messing with you, before,” Brinn said, holding his shoulders to keep their gaze between themselves, “But this is important.”

The trainees behind them saluted their holograms, laughing, engaging in this madness. The hologram flickered his eyes like a serpent -Can he see me? Does he see?

Yeung-Sung shook his head. “No. I shouldn’t have come -This was a bad idea form the start.”

He tried to back further out form the group but the trainees at the edges closed in around him. He recognised them as the same ones who had asked questions of Kelly-Ann before. The hologram Jordan that tilted out into the space between their shoulders waved to him, smiling. The trainees pushed him to the very front.

Jordan is going to end me.