Eagle Strike

that it was only the avatar that had been wounded.
    “Pain synthesis!” Cray repeated the words, his voice echoing across the Pleasure Dome. “In the Gameslayer world, we share all the hero‟s emotions. And should Alex die, the central processing unit will ensure that we feel his death.”
    Alex had climbed back down and was searching for the second weapon. The little wound was already healing, the blood flow slowing down. He dodged as another boomerang shot past his shoulder. But he still couldn‟t find the second weapon.
    “Try looking behind the ivy,” Cray suggested in a stage whisper, and the audience smiled, amused that Alex needed help so soon.
    There was a crossbow concealed in an alcove. But what Cray hadn‟t told Alex was that the ivy covering the alcove contained a ten thousand volt charge. He found out soon enough. The moment his avatar touched the ivy, there was a blue flash and it was thrown backwards, screaming out loud, its eyes wide and staring. The avatar hadn‟t quite been killed, but it had been badly hurt.
    Cray tapped Alex on the shoulder. “You‟ll have to be more careful than that,” he said.
    A buzz of excitement travelled through the audience. They had never seen anything like this before.
    And that was when Alex decided. Suddenly MI6, Yassen, Saint-Pierre … all of it was forgotten.
    Cray had tricked him into touching the ivy. He had deliberately injured him. Of course, it was just a game. It was only the avatar that had been hurt. But the humiliation had been his—and suddenly he was determined to get the better of Feathered Serpent. He wasn‟t going to be beaten.
    He wasn‟t going to share his death with anyone.
    Grimly, he picked up the crossbow and sent the avatar forward, further into the Aztec world.
    The second chamber consisted of a huge hole in the ground. It was actually a pit, fifty metres deep, with narrow pillars stretching all the way to the top. The only way to get from one side to the other was to jump from one pillar to the next. If he missed his step or overbalanced, he would fall to his death—and to make it more difficult it was pouring with rain inside the chamber, making the surfaces slippery. The rain itself was extraordinary. As Cray told the audience, the Gameslayer‟s image technology allowed every raindrop to be realized individually. The avatar was soaking wet, its clothes sodden and its hair plastered to its head.

    There was a sudden electronic squawk. A creature with butterfly wings and the face and claws of a dragon swooped down, trying to knock the avatar off its perch. Alex brought the crossbow up and shot it, then took the last three leaps to the other side of the pit.
    “You‟re doing very well,” Damian Cray said. “But I wonder if you‟ll make it through the third chamber.”
    Alex was confident. Feathered Serpent was beautifully designed. Its texture maps and backgrounds were perfect. The Omni character was way ahead of the competition. But for all this, it was just another computer game, similar to ones that Alex had played on Xbox and PlayStation 2. He knew what he was doing. He could win.
    He made easy work of the third section: a tall, narrow corridor with carved faces on either side.
    A hail of wooden spears and arrows fired out of the wooden mouths but not one of them came close as the avatar ducked and weaved, all the time running forward. A bubbling river of acid twisted along the corridor. The avatar jumped over it as if it were a harmless stream.
    Now he came to an incredible indoor jungle where the greatest threat, among the trees and the creepers, was a huge robotic snake, covered in spikes. The creature looked horrific. Alex had never seen better graphics. But his avatar ran circles round it, leaving it behind so quickly that the audience barely had a chance to see it.
    Cray‟s face hadn‟t changed, but now he was leaning over Alex, his eyes fixed on the screen, one hand resting on Alex‟s shoulder. His knuckles were almost white.
    “You‟re making it look too easy,” he murmured.
    Although the words were spoken light-heartedly, there was a rising tension in his voice.

    Because the audience was now on Alex‟s side. Millions of pounds had been spent on the development of the Feathered Serpent software. But it was being beaten by the first teenager to play it. As Alex dodged a second robotic snake, someone laughed. The hand on his shoulder tightened.
    He came to the fifth chamber. This was a mirror maze, filled