Eagle Strike

sense alert, waiting for an attack that he knew could come from any direction. He wished now that he had played Feathered Serpent more carefully.
    He had raced through the zones at such speed that he had probably missed half of the ambushes.
    His feet rang out on the silver floor. Ahead of him, rusting staircases that reminded him of a submarine or a submerged ship twisted upwards. He thought of trying one of them. But he hadn‟t gone that way when he was playing the game and preferred not to now. It was better to stick with what he knew.
    The alcove that contained the crossbow was underneath a wooden pulpit, carved in the shape of a dragon. It was almost completely covered by what looked like green ivy—but Alex knew that the twisting vines carried an electrical charge. He could see the weapon resting against the stonework, and there was just enough of a gap. Was it worth the risk? Alex tensed himself, preparing to reach in, then threw himself full length on the floor. Half a second later and it would have been fatal. He had remembered the razor boomerang at the same instant that he had heard a whistling sound coming from nowhere. He had no time to prepare himself. He hit the ground so hard that the breath was driven out of him. There was a flash and a series of sparks. He felt a burning pain across his shoulders and knew that he hadn‟t been quite fast enough. The boomerang had sliced open his T-shirt, also cutting his skin. It had been a close thing. Any closer and he wouldn‟t even have made it into the second zone.
    And silently the cameras watched. Everything was being recorded. One day it would be fed into Cray‟s software—presumably Feathered Serpent 2.
    Alex sat up and tried to pull his torn shirt together. At least the boomerang had helped in one way. It had hit the ivy, cutting and short-circuiting the electric wires. Alex stretched an arm into the alcove and took out the crossbow. It was antique—wood and iron—but it seemed to be working. Even so, Cray had cheated him. There was an arrow in it, but it had no point. It was too blunt to damage anything.
    He decided to take both the crossbow and the arrow with him anyway. He moved away from the alcove and over to the wall where he knew he would find the sword. It was about twenty metres above him but there were loose stones and handholds indicating a way up. Alex was about to start climbing but then he had second thoughts. He had already had one close escape. The wall would almost certainly be booby-trapped. He would be halfway up and a stone would come loose. If he fell, he would break a leg. Cray would enjoy that, watching him lie helpless on the silver floor until some other missile was fired into him to finish him off. And anyway, the sword would probably have no blade.
    But thinking about it, Alex suddenly realized that he had the answer. He knew how to beat the simulated world that Cray had built.
    Every computer game is a series of programmed events, with nothing random, nothing left to chance. When Alex had played the game in the Pleasure Dome, he had collected the crossbow and then used it to shoot the creature that had attacked him. In the same way, locked doors would have keys; poisons would have antidotes. No matter how much choice you might seem to have, you were always obeying a hidden set of rules.
    But Alex had not been programmed. He was a human being and he could do what he wanted. It had cost him a torn shirt and a very narrow escape—but he had learnt his lesson. If he hadn‟t tried to get the crossbow, he wouldn‟t have made himself a target for the boomerang. Climbing up the wall to get the sword would put him in danger because he would be doing exactly what was expected.
    To get out of the world that Cray had built for him, he had to do everything that wasn‟t expected.
    In other words he had to cheat.
    And he would start right now.
    He went over to one of the blazing torches and tried to remove it from the wall. He wasn‟t surprised to find that the whole thing was bolted into place. Cray had thought of everything. But even if he controlled the holders, he couldn‟t control the flames themselves. Alex pulled off his shirt and wrapped it round the end of the wooden arrow. Then he set it on fire. He smiled to himself. Now he had a weapon that hadn‟t been programmed.
    The exit door was at the far end of the temple. Alex was supposed to take a direct path to it.
    Instead, he went the long way round, staying close to the