Predators.
Jordan stepped through the snow towards the edge of the escarpment and looked around, breathing in the frigid air he felt it freeze the inside of his nose bringing tears to his eyes. “Man, that makes you feel alive!” he turned to his companions and beat his gloved hands together, stamping down in the snow hearing it make that squeaking crunch so distinct of deep crisp snow, a smile crept across his face as he looked at each in turn.
“Yeah, a little too alive, what have you done?” Pete was ever the suspicious one, a dealer in oil reserves and not hedge funds like the rest so they considered him straight-laced, not a real risk taker like themselves, “This is supposed to be a virtual sim and we paid enough damned money for it so I expect as near as reality sim, but not so damn good I can feel snow melting down my neck.” Pete turned to look at the other two in their hunting party for validation, “well? Are you two in on this?” Johnson looked sheepish confirming his guilt but the look on Wilfred’s face was either a good act or he too knew nothing of this switch.
“Aw, come on Pete, OK so this is not the sim and we really are on Centauri 5, but hey we’ve played the sim so many times without a problem it was getting boring. We needed a little spice in our lives to sharpen us up so I just arranged for use to come here where the sim is really based – just think, we’ll make a real killing in the markets when we feel the adrenaline pumping after this trip. We will be predators not sim-killers like now. You know that ass hole of a boss goes on about ‘real kills’ – well we will have them after this”, He gave them ‘the look’ the one with that eager to please grin he had so much success getting deals out of older clients, the little boy lost look that hid an avaricious streak that made him want to part them from every credit in their retirement funds without a single guilty thought about the consequences, the lives left much poorer after he took every credit he could wring out of them.
Pete wanted to stay mad at him but he knew what Jordan said made sense, they had played the sim for Centauri 5 so many times, the challenge of playing for real gave him a visceral thrill, hell, they had played so many times for so many credits they’d probably funded the last 3 upgrades to the sim alone. “Well we are here now, so same aim as the sim? We get seven nights out here on our wits anything is fair game and we have to get back here on the eighth day?” Jordan gave a loud whoop, “I knew you’d go for it Pete, you may be a boring guy at work but there is the heart of a hedgie in there somewhere! The guy who sold it said same rules apply except we get to eat what we kill for real and any other predators out there are real too – oh and no fancy proximity alarms or weapons add-ons – so no pulling out that fancy piece of yours Johnson and blasting everything to pieces. One rifle each with 50 rounds, and a side-arm and hunting knife – oh yeah and fourteen nights, back here on the fifteenth. That is it.”
Wilfred and Johnson looked at Jordan with what looked disturbing like hero-worship to Pete “well when you three stop admiring your own brilliance, we need to get a move on if we’re going to make tonight’s camp.” Pete picked up one of the knife belts and put it round his waist, he pulled out the side-arm and checked the slider action, unclipped the magazine and made sure he had a round in the chamber and safety catch on, made sure his knife slid out easily then secured it back in its sheathe finally hoisting a pack onto his shoulders and adjusting the straps so it sat snugly and it’s weight was evenly across his back. “Right then, ready to move?”
They might act like big kids at time but all four of them knew how to get their gear strapped on and ready efficiently enough when needed. Jordan set off first pushing off down the slope on his skis, schussing into an easy gliding rhythm. The other three pushed off in his tracks, their experience in the sim was proving invaluable, experience that had taught them that staying in one set of tracks used least energy and made the quickest time.
As they moved away from the portal two other figures appeared in the doorway. “How long will you give them?” the first asked. “Oh a day should be plenty and then I will release the cats and bears.” The first grunted, “How good are this lot? They’ve been in the sim enough times.” The second turned to his companion, “good, but not good enough, the smart money is on Jordan to last longest, but I reckon that Pete will go furthest, and may last until the second week.” They both turned to watch the friends, now just small figures in the distance. The second turned back towards the door, “how much do you suppose their boss paid for this show?” The first followed him, “millions my friend, but then Jordan should have been more careful whose trust funds he raided - not smart to have robbed poor old Granny.” Their laughter echoed back as they walked back through the portal and it sealed up against the weather.