JOEL WAS LATE TO the dining room. A hatch at the far side of the room had a plate of food waiting with a plastic seal over it. The others were all sat around the big table. They had all started eating. There was one vacant chair.

Carter was almost finished with what was on his plate. He ate fast, like a kid who’s had his food taken away more than once.

“What kept the krill,” Carter looked up and asked the room, “Don’t they need to eat like the rest of us?”

Nobody reacted. “The food’s pretty bad anyway.” He said, this time directly to Joel. “I can eat yours if you want.”

“You obviously like bad food.” Joel made his way to the hatch and collected his plate. The plate was warm. He couldn’t tell what the food was. It looked like a dollop of some kind of a stew, with some cut greens and mashed starch.

The empty seat was at one end of the long table. Molson, Hacker, Ben and Carter were around the other end.

Joel didn’t bother to move the chair. He sat and took the cover off the food. The smell was good. That surprised him. He was apprehensive, but took trouble not to show it as he scooped up some of the stew.

Then he tried not to show surprise. It tasted great. Joel hadn’t realized how hungry he was. The mash and the greens were good, too. If anything, he ate faster than Carter.

As he ate, he heard the others talking about the game. First, everyone mentioned that Joel had read the games faster than any of them. Everyone except Carter. His face reddened. He scooped up the last of his food and put the cutlery down with a clatter.

Ben took time to complement Joel, and then everybody else in turn on their performance. He told each of them something that he thought they’d done well. When he told Hacker he’d made a great save and that his reactions had been really fast, Hacker sounded impatient.

“We all bring skills. Mine are mostly sporting. I’m in the athletics squad, I play basketball for the school and I’m a sprinter. I press a hundred and five percent of my bodyweight. I’ve run four marathons and six half marathons.” He looked back at Ben. “What are your strengths?”

Ben’s face colored. His eyelid twitched. Only Molson and Joel were still eating. They both kept quiet and everyone waited for Ben’s answer.

It was an anticlimax. Ben talked about his minor sporting achievements. Hacker looked around the room. When he caught Joel’s eye, Joel realized he had been smiling at Hacker. Hacker made a small nod as Joel slipped the smile away.

Carter couldn’t wait for Ben to finish before he began to brag. “I throw javelin, I run half-mile, mile and four mile. And,” he paused for effect. “I’m a quarterback on the football team.”

Joel thought they must be a small, skinny team. Carter was muscled and agile, but he looked about two-thirds the weight of the football players in Joel’s school. Maybe less.

“I just can’t decide which of the cheerleaders I’m going to bring as my concubine when I win.” Eyes rolled. Even Ben drew a slow breath. Hacker winced and slapped the table with his palm.

Joel took the last mouthful from his plate and put down the cutlery. He wasn’t looking forward to the tales of sexual heroism that Carter was obviously warming up for.

The instant he put down his plastic knife and fork, a square metal serving bot appeared at the hatch and put out five bowls.

A perfect, synthesized female voice announced, “Ice cream and chocolate brownies.”

Carter frowned as he looked around the table. “We all have to wait for the krill before we get our ice-cream?”

~~

Carter was able to eat ice-cream and a chocolate brownie at an impressive speed at the same time as whipping up a bragstorm about his exploits with cheerleaders. His brief anecdotes majored on how desperate the girls all were to have him do whatever he did to them, all over again. They were all, as he told it, “destroyed,” when he let them down.

“I tell them, ‘You know it, girl Everybody knows it. I’m a one and done guy. Always have been. Always will be. And your moment was last night.’ And I remind them, ‘You better remember it good, honey, cos you’re never getting loving like that again.’ And that’s when they all cry.”

“And then they throw themselves off cliffs,” Joel hadn’t meant to speak, but the words started out before he could stop them. “Or they wander, lost and alone, into a dead zone, never to be seen again.”

Carter faltered. His voice was weaker. “I’ve had girls at my feet. Sobbing.”

Hacker stood. “Of course you have.”

Molson pushed his chair back. Ben looked around, from one to another.

Joel finished his brownie with the last of his ice cream. He looked at Carter and felt a little sorry for him. He wondered how long this ‘process’ was going to be.

“Maybe I’d rather have a bot, anyway.” Carter said, though no-one was listening. He stood and stretched. “fleshbots don’t get tired out.”

“How about you,” Hacker said. “Don’t you get tired out?”

Carter strode and stood in front of him. Hacker was about an inch taller, probably weighed seven or eight pounds more. Carter’s nose wrinkled and he bared his teeth. “Want to try me?”

They all froze as the sardonic male voice from the earlier announcements filled the room.

“I hope you have all enjoyed your supper. The next game will start in ten minutes.” Hacker didn’t speak or move as he looked at Carter. Molson and Ben moved back from the table. Carter took a step back, too.

The voice said, “The contest is going to be a lively samurai simulation, which I hope you will all enjoy.”

Joel and the others looked at each other.

“Don’t be late changing. Your equipment is ready in the games room.”

~~

Pegs and hangers with their names on held harnesses, jackets and helmets to fit over the headsets, and gloves that would connect to the harnesses. Joel’s ears were starting to ache and feel tired from the earbuds and from wearing the visor.

The harnesses were complicated to strap into. There were braces for their arms and legs, down to the wrists and ankles. The whole rig was like a flimsy exoskeleton. It was heavy and awkward. Molson was nearest to Joel, so Joel helped him on with the equipment. He returned the favor, but he stayed quiet.

As the helmet pressed down on Joel’s visor and earphones, he wished he’d had his own headset with him.

None of the others had thought to help each other. Joel helped Hacker while Molson offered to help Carter. Carter said he didn’t need help. Moslon shrugged and helped Ben. Carter was still struggling with his harness when all four of the others were ready.

Joel went to where Carter wrestled with the poles and hinges. “Let me help you.” Carter scowled. Joel said, “You heard the announcement. Did it sound to you like the contest might wait and be held up for stragglers?”

Carter scowled but he let Joel help him.

Ben privately messaged him. “Why didn’t you leave him to it?”

Joel scowled in his direction. He couldn’t see Ben’s face behind his visor. He wanted to tell him, that if this turned out to be a team game, they’d all suffer being a man down.

Instead, he concentrated on getting Carter’s rig on and adjusted.

Before he was finished, a scene began to fill their visors. A medieval Japanese village spun in a blur. Joel made out a wide stream, running through the center of the village square. As well as the babble of the water, the clang of deep, low bells rotated in the distance. The village was surrounded by snow-capped mountains. The whole scene rotated around them.

As the landscape spun, Joel saw long, large shapes, close by. They were blurs of green and red, close to the ground. Coming near. He braced himself and pulled out two large daggers.