Ant Clancy Games Detective Page 2

  Griff stopped moaning. He almost stopped breathing.

  There, levitating in front of him, so close he could almost touch it, was his very first enteo.

  Griff had to act fast. The stats circling the shadowy shape’s head were disappearing. They were strange codes and graphs but because Griff had never seen an enteo before, they didn’t give much away. His heart sank. How could he tell what type it was?

  The creature was cloaked in blue. The only clue was in the way it was moving, fiercely swaying from side to side — this was strangely familiar. Griff realised the enteo was making the same movements he had seen Kyto make in training sessions. Kyto would sway from side to side when he wanted him to chase light-filled bubbles around the tunnels. Had Griff found a chaser? It was time to take a chance.

  ‘Chaser!’ Griff shouted.

  Slowly, slowly, the enteo removed its bronze mask. Its face was long and white, with half-moon eyebrows which made it look surprised. Lights from its eyes swooped around like laser beams and its mouth was a tiny, open ‘O’. No matter what colour it was, every enteo of one type had the same face.

  He was right! It was a chaser!

  In a split second, the chaser had taken off. Griff followed it like the wind, out of the green cathedral and into a spiralling tunnel, down a massive helter-skelter, through labyrinths of different colours, up the sides of towers and along high, vibrating ledges. He went as fast as he dared, remembering everything Kyto had taught him, completely forgiving the ghost monkey for being so annoying.

  Every so often, he would glance nervously at the blood seeping from the thermometer. This meant his health was draining away. Griff was soon out of breath but determined to carry on. The clock was counting down, Griff could see it in the corner of his eye, the seconds ticking off one by one.

  He was still a long way off when the chaser stopped at the end of a high ledge and looked back at him. Its tiny mouth smiled, its laser eye winked, and then it jumped. Griff watched it plummet, until it landed and dissolved into a shimmering puddle of fire on the crash mat, far below.

  Griff had lost the chaser this time. It didn’t matter. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was so elated he could have burst. This was the biggest fun in the world. This was the biggest fun he could ever remember having in his entire life. He just wanted it to go on and on. Forever.

  3

  A Gift from Lance

  Lia was waiting in the hall when Ant got in from school, arms folded and, by the looks of it, ready for an argument.

  ‘Why did you tell him?’ she began in a quiet voice, which was never good.

  ‘Tell who what?’ Ant tossed down his heavy backpack. He had about three tons of homework to do that evening.

  ‘Dad! Why did you tell him?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He’d had a brief conversation with their dad the night before, when he’d rung from somewhere in Belgium, but he couldn’t remember saying anything Lia would have minded.

  ‘Why did you tell him about Lance living here?’ she cried. ‘Anthony, you know it’s only for a few weeks. You promised me you wouldn’t say anything. You promised!’

  Lia was Ant’s twenty-two-year-old sister. She had moved in to look after her little brother while their dad, Snoz, was away, driving some duff old rock band round Europe. Her boyfriend Lance had also moved in, together with all his bodybuilding stuff. Lia and Lance had taken over the flat’s only bedroom and Ant was sleeping on the sofa bed in the living room. This lack of privacy was why he’d started playing Kismet Cosmos in the Dell in the first place. The edge of the Dell next to the adventure playground had always felt like a safe place. Now he’d have to find somewhere else, because he didn’t want his precious equipment being grabbed by those three mugs again. He still felt sore about it.

  Lance was okay but he and Ant didn’t have much in common. They hardly spoke, except to say, ‘All right, mate?’ and ‘Pass the remote, dude.’

  ‘I haven’t said a word to Dad!’

  Lia looked in his eyes and must have decided he was telling the truth.

  ‘Then it’s that flaming Hayley from number eight!’ she cried. She dumped herself on the sofa. ‘She’s always either going in or coming out of her flat when I walk past. She’s been spying on us, I know she has. She’s always had a thing for Dad, she probably used this as a lame excuse to ring him.’

  Ant sat down gently next to his sister. It was a bit of a family joke that Hayley from number eight fancied their Dad. ‘Careful, Lia,’ he said. ‘You can’t just run around accusing people. It might not have been her, you don’t know for sure.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past her.’ Lia began to cry. ‘Oh, Ant. I knew Dad wouldn’t like it ’cos there’s not much room here. That’s why I didn’t tell him. But Lance has got this new job starting next week and we’ve nearly saved up the deposit for that flat in the Parade. Me and Lance living here was only for the time being.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Ant patted her shoulder.

  ‘It’s been okay here, with Lance and everything? He’s nice to you, isn’t he? You get on with him?’ She turned to face him. All her eye make-up had smudged so she looked like a pleading panda.

  ‘Yeah, I like Lance. Course I do. We don’t have much in common but he’s a tidy bloke,’ said Ant.

  ‘Can you say that to Dad?’ Her voice was going squeaky. ‘Please? Next time you speak to him. Tell him you don’t mind? Tell him we’ll leave as soon as he gets back. I tried to explain but he just wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Shush, course I’ll tell him. It’ll be fine.’ Ant stroked his sister’s hair and hoped he’d be able to talk their dad around.

  ‘Hey, I’m sorry for having a go at you.’ Lia tried to smile. She rubbed Ant’s knee. ‘It’ll be great when we get that flat. It’s lush. The kitchen window overlooks the Dell. There’s loads of birds to spot, even a woodpecker, the old man who lives next door told me. You can come and stay whenever you want, Ant. We’ll have so much fun together.’

  ‘Thanks, Lia. I’ll look forward to it.’

  That evening, Ant rang Snoz.

  ‘Sorry, son, I can’t stay on for long. Death Spanners are due on stage in twenty minutes.’ Death Spanners was the name of the band. As well as driving them around, Snoz helped set up the equipment and acted as security during each show, standing in front of the audience with his arms folded to prevent over-enthusiastic, sweaty fans from climbing up on stage.

  ‘Lia is really upset,’ said Ant. ‘Honestly, Dad, Lance living here isn’t a problem. It’s only until you get back, anyway.’

  ‘She should have told me. There isn’t enough room in that flat to swing a cat.’

  ‘I know, but Lance’s landlord sold the house he and his mates were living in. He had nowhere else to go. You’ve met Lance. He’s an all right bloke. You wouldn’t want to see him homeless, would you?’

  ‘I suppose I should be grateful his mates didn’t move in too,’ said Snoz. Ant heard someone in the background yelling his dad’s name. Snoz yelled something back then came back to Ant. ‘All right, he can stay as long as he behaves, but any trouble and I’ll be catching a plane straight back, understand?’

  ‘Understand.’

  ‘Now, did you get your share of the money I transferred to Lia’s account last Thursday?’

  ‘Yes, Dad, thanks.’

  ‘And you’re doing your homework?’

  ‘Course I am.’

  ‘How’s the table tennis?’ Ant belonged to a local club and played regularly in competitions.

  ‘Great. I’m through to the next round in the tournament.’

  ‘That’s fantastic, son, well done. How about your gaming? You got that under control?’ Snoz sounded concerned.

  ‘Sure. An hour in the evening on weekdays, two hours on Saturdays and Sundays. There’s too much to do for school in the week, and on weekends, you know, I want to practise table tennis and meet up with my mates.’

  When Ant had first got into Kismet Cosmos, he had become pretty addicted, playing every moment he could. One day, Snoz had sat him down and talked to him seriously about addiction and how it can ruin your life. They’d come up with the one-hour/two-hour rule and Ant was still sticking to it, most of the time.

  ‘What do I always say?’ asked Snoz.

  Ant chipped in quickly, ‘You’ve got to be bigger than the game.’

  ‘Cor-rect,’ said Snoz. ‘Last question: are you eating properly?’

  ‘Shepherd’s pie this evening. I helped Lia peel the spuds.’

  Snoz chuckled. ‘Good lad. I’ll text you tomorrow then, yeah? Send you a photo of the gig?’

  Ant got a photo of every Death Spanners concert and they all looked the same: blue lights, dry ice and four leather-clad pensioners with long curly hair, posing with their guitars and drumsticks. In a way, it was quite cool to still be doing that at their age.

  ‘Great, Dad. Don’t worry about us, we’re fine. See you in two weeks.’

  ‘Love you, son. Tell your sister I love her too.’

  Snoz ended the call. Ant knew his dad didn’t like being away from home, but this was the only job he could get that paid decent money. They really needed it, especially since Snoz had volunteered to help Lia with her college costs. Lia’s dream was to work with animals and she was studying to become a veterinary nurse. Even if money was tight, Ant reckoned he was lucky to have a family that always helped each other out.

  When Ant told Lia what their dad had said, she hugged him and made loads more promises about the great times they were all going to have in the new flat.

  Lance started making more of an effort too. His new job was working in the games shop in the Parade. Lance started talking to Ant about the kinds of videogames he’d been into
when he was younger, some Ant had never heard of like Speedster Valley and Blobber Dungeon. For the first time, he and Ant were hanging out together properly and having really interesting conversations.

  A few weeks into the job, Lance came home with a large carrier bag. He placed it on the table next to Ant, who was doing his maths homework. Lance had a massive smile on his face. ‘Present for ’ya,’ he said and stood waiting for Ant’s reaction.

  Ant pushed aside his books and delved into the bag. A suit unfolded into his lap. The headset stared at him with weird bug eyes.

  ‘No. I mean no! Never!’ Ant goggled at Lance.

  ‘Ray-Chay,’ said Lance. ‘You must want it. All the kids are talking about it.’

  ‘Wow, thanks!’ Ant didn’t know what to say. He was too polite to ask the obvious question: how on earth could Lance afford a Ray-Chay suit? Lance guessed what he was thinking.

  ‘The shop’s been sent these cheaper samples to try out before we start stocking them,’ he explained. ‘They’re not made-to-measure like the expensive ones. Looks a lot cheaper, doesn’t it? Not so superhero-y. It plays just as well, though, apparently. They sent us three, but this one didn’t fit anyone: too small. I thought you’d appreciate it, so I asked my boss Daisy if I could bring it home for you. Going to try it on then?’

  ‘You bet!’ Ant said. ‘Absolutely brilliant, Lance. Thanks a lot.’

  Lia offered to keep Ant’s fish fingers warm in the oven. Ant went into the bedroom while Lia and Lance settled down to eat their tea. The material was really stiff and Ant had to wriggle around to get comfortable. He looked at himself in the mirror.

  The suit was a boring grey with a small, white Crunch Hut thunderbolt logo sewn on to the front with yellow thread. It seemed nothing like the amazing-sounding suit Griff kept boasting about at school. The stitching on the logo was coming loose and it clearly wasn’t that well made. Still, if Ray-Chay was as incredible as everyone said, it wouldn’t matter. Ant squeezed on the funny-looking, sucker-lined headset and plugged it into the suit via a short cable. Then he voice-activated the game with a code printed on a small tag hanging from the sleeve. Now the suit would recognise Ant’s voice and only he would be able to use it. At first his head felt like a shaken bottle of pop, but the sensation didn’t last long. A little old ghost monkey appeared, introduced himself as Kyto and began a speech, ‘Let me take you to another world…’ Ant copied Kyto’s slow, rhythmic movements for a few minutes before the proper game began.

  It was weird. Ant found it impossible to focus on the shapes and colours, heights and depths. He tried to move and he fell over. He felt dizzy and a bit sick. Lance had warned him about this.

  When Ant started making sense of what he could see, it was even weirder.

  Surely he knew this place? Wasn’t this planet Aneome in Kismet Cosmos? Ant walked a few steps and looked down. There, three hundred metres below, thundered the sparkling Arkenbarc River. Above him rose Warriot’s Peak, majestic against the cloudless blue sky. When he looked down at himself, he was wearing his avatar Tarn’s skin.

  Ant really loved planet Aneome, it was probably his favourite planet so far in Kismet, even though he was now on a different level in the real game. Everything was right about this version, yet everything was wrong, too. There were none of the signs of life he was used to: no fluttersects, zephyrbirds or hommerabbits, let alone Pradahl, who was always somewhere nearby, usually getting into trouble. The ghost monkey was only there to give him training instructions and wasn’t a real part of the game.

  He knew it would take several Ray-Chay levels before the enteos began appearing. Then, presumably, the game would start getting as exciting as everyone said. It was impressive how much more he felt inside this virtual world because of the Ray-Chay suit. Yet what was the point, when Ant had a much more thrilling version of the game, where he’d already reached the ninety-sixth planet? There were still puzzle paths to solve and jewel keys to find in Kismet Cosmos. There were still new planets to fly to and fabulous dragon-skin suits to earn.

  It didn’t take long for Ant to feel bored. He deactivated the game and removed the headset. He wriggled out of the stiff suit, wondering if anyone else had spotted that this great new game was actually a shameless copy of Kismet Cosmos. Oh, but of course, no one had played Kismet in years, had they? Crunch Hut had simply decided to ‘recycle’ its first game, thinking that no one would notice. How lame was that?

  Like everyone into gaming, Ant was a huge admirer of coding genius Kody Crunch. Kody and his twin sister Kelly had set up Crunch Hut while they were still teenagers. Kelly had dropped off the scene long ago and no one seemed to remember her any more. Kody had gone from strength to strength and was one of the richest, coolest and most successful guys in gaming, living on his own private Caribbean island. In each new advert he would ride up on a jet ski or land his helicopter on some spectacular cliff, point his finger pistols at the camera and tell everyone to buy his latest game. Ant thought the ads were horribly cheesy but the games themselves were fantastic. Up until this one.

  Ant picked up his Kismet headset and ran his thumb over the worn Crunch Hut logo. ‘How do you think you can get away with this, Kody?’ he whispered. ‘The game’s so lame. The original’s a million times better.’ Ah well, it was disappointing, but even geniuses got it wrong sometimes.

  That evening, Lance asked whether he liked Ray-Chay and Ant admitted he hadn’t got into it yet. When Lance asked him again the following day, Ant said something similar. He didn’t want to disappoint Lance but he didn’t think he was ever going to get into Ray-Chay. He didn’t see the point of it.

  4

  The Rareio

  Four months later everyone was playing Ray-Chay. The cheaper suits had been released, which meant you didn’t need to be rich in order to play. Griff was disgusted by the stiff grey suits, but he did enjoy the company. He’d promised his parents he’d only play online with friends he knew in real life. He knew never to get friendly with strangers online or agree to meet up, because they might not be who they claimed.

  Every day after school, Griff would meet Lyle and Boom in his virtual adventure-play world, where they would race, chase, collect and destroy enteos together as a team. None of them realised that the worlds they played in were all different: Lyle’s world was a war zone, while Boom’s was a kind of monster-truck superdrome. The enteos they found were all alike, however.

  Something else disgusted Griff: his mum, Paula, had bought an expensive, spangly, pink Ray-Chay suit of her own, complete with bunny ears and a tail. Ray-Chay had become popular with adults because it was a great, fun way of exercising. Griff made his mum promise never to leave the house in her embarrassing suit. She played in the huge master bedroom of their house because she feared crashing into real-life objects.

  Paula loved romantic historical novels. Her favourite was Heart of a Highwayman by Crystal McNabbs. When she played Ray-Chay, she always found herself in a forest at night, her arms wrapped round the handsome, masked highwayman Will Carey, galloping along on his black stallion. Sometimes they climbed trees or abseiled down canyons in pursuit of enteos, daredevil feats that would have terrified her in real life. Sometimes, if there was time, they might stop for a little kiss.

  Every morning, once Griff’s dad Evan had left for work and Griff for school, Paula enjoyed her precious Ray-Chay time. Before long, she was very good. She could tell a racer from a chaser in a heartbeat. She defeated peak-strength destroyers with ease. Although it felt a tiny bit like cheating, she had found some great spawn locations, which meant she was really pushing up through the levels. Will Carey always stood by and watched her deal with the fearsome enteos, muttering encouragement in his deep, manly voice. It annoyed her that she made the decisions while he just stood there, but that was the game.