Nic shoved his classmate off the play structure. “Ow!” Theo whined when he hit the padded floor. “There’s still a whole bunch of time on the clock. You didn’t have to push me so hard! That was mean!” Nic only grinned from the top of the padded block—until Amy was behind him, grabbing at his ankle. He yanked himself free and she rolled down the inclined side of the play structure.
Their daily hour-long PE class was winding to a close. As a special treat since it was also Friday, Magister Alen decreed that the final 10 minutes of class would be dedicated to Nic’s favorite game—King of the Hill.
There were only three rules in King of the Hill: you could only use one hand on a classmate at a time, above the belt or below the knee only, and the student with the most time on the Hill when the clock ran out, won. All the students’ smartshoes fed signals directly into the surface of the play structure for point-tracking purposes. A real-time scoreboard on the wall kept track of the top three player scores.
KING OF THE HILL – TOP SCORERS STUDENT #0-107 NICOLAS S. | 5:40 STUDENT #0-18 MARIO R. | 5:32 STUDENT #0-124 LITA H. | 5:25
Nic liked winning, but he had an extra special reason for winning that day. He wasn’t going to let anyone stop him.
Daniel grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him, trying to make Nic lose his footing, but it didn’t work. Nic grabbed Daniel by the wrist and yanked him off the top of the Hill, sending him tumbling.
“Remember, kids, we want clean, good-sport contacts here,” Magister Alen called to them from the other side of the gymnasium. “Good hustle, Lita! Keep it up!”
“I got you now!” said Mario. When Nic was still mid-takedown with Daniel, Mario pushed his back—but Nic wouldn’t go down. When Nic spun around, Mario put his hand on Nic’s face and shoved him harder than he’d ever been shoved.
Nic did not only go tumbling—he fell backwards off the Hill, hitting his head on the padded incline, flipping end-over-end, and then skidding down the incline all the way to the hard tile floor. He’d scraped himself on a sharp edge of the terraplastic padding. His chin stung; it felt damp and hot. During his fall, he’d bitten down on his tongue and his mouth tasted like metal now.
Ordinarily, he would have cried. Not that day. That day was too important. He had to win. He wasn’t scared, nor sad—he was angry.
Magister Alen blew his whistle but it barely registered in Nic’s ears. Nic scrambled up the Hill and shoved Mario off the top. By the neck. Hard. He’d always remember the look of shock in Mario’s eyes, even when he got older.
Then he shoved Lita off the top. Then Amy. Then Theo again. Magister Alen blew his whistle again and then shouted something.
Nic looked down. He saw blood on his white gym shirt. Blood on the Hill. A string of it dripped from his mouth and puddled on the Hill in thick globs. He looked up at the scoreboard—
– - | -:-- - | -:-- - | -:--
“M-Magister Alen,” said Nic. “Put the scores back up, please.”
“Yeah, he’s bleeding pretty bad,” said Magister Alen to someone. “Took a fall pretty hard. Nic, what hurt you?” Nic said nothing; he only stared at the empty scoreboard. “Oh, for Earth’s sake—it’s the terraplastic. Sharp edge. That’ll cut anybody deep. Have to get that fixed...”
“Nic, did you get hurt? That’s no good!” said a PPI nurse who’d suddenly appeared beside him, not waiting for his answer. “Come with me, Nic. We need to get you all fixed up, okay?”
“Put the scores back, please,” said Nic. He yanked his hand away when the nurse reached for it. “Ma-Magister Al—”
“Nic, you need to go to the nurse’s office,” Magister Alen said firmly. “Now.” The authority in his voice scared Nic and finally broke open the floodgates of his tears.
“No!” Nic whined. “I’m not going! No!” The nurse and Magister Alen each took one of his wrists. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, a different Magister entering the gymnasium, waving her hands and saying something to Nic’s classmates. “Tell me who won!” They ignored his crying. “Tell me! Tell me I won!” His mouth filled with the taste of blood and tears.
***
An hour later, Nic sat in the nurse’s office alone. Magister Alen finally said that no one had won the day’s match of King of the Hill because someone got seriously hurt. He said that whenever that happened, it was time for the game to be done. Nic’s chin burned with something called “stempaste” that the nurse had applied to his injury. He sat on the crinkling plastic bed, hurting, thinking. He missed his mother.
She was just outside the nurse’s office talking to Principal Ferenc. Nic knew that she would have to go away today—just like all mothers did after their child’s fifth birthday. He wished it didn’t have to be this way.
“You’re free to pull Student #0-107 from the Institute at this time and retain parental rights,” said Principal Ferenc. Nic heard their muffled voices from the other room; he didn’t understand everything they said, but he heard it all.
“Okay, let’s do it,” his mother said.
“You’ll lose your monthly stipend...”
“Done.” She sounded mad. Mad or sad. Nic couldn’t tell.
“...and you can take your chances doing back-breaking labor on some boonies colony at the edge of space.”
His mother answered right away, “Fine.”
“Keep in mind that’s the best future your son can hope for, too. Living in a bunk in some crowded hab while you work 12 hours a day, every day.” Now Principal Ferenc sounded mad. “You can split dehydrated food that arrives on a freighter once a year. Split water rations. He can get his education from a robot or from e-lessons on a data drive, depending on what the freighter brings you, and what you can afford.
“Then when he turns 18, he can follow in your footsteps. He can work agridomes tilling exoplanet dirt that’s frozen solid, or he can spend his day in 40-degree heat scrubbing the filters in atmosphere pumps. Maybe if he’s lucky he can do demolition or construction, get paid a few more credits a day and sleep in his rover all alone in the cold. If that’s the future you want for the two of you, then by all means, take it.” Nic heard his mom sniffling. Principal Ferenc went on, “Or maybe you make the hard choice that will give you both a better future. Get yourself an apartment on an established colony. Go outside and breathe fresh air. Never work again a day in your life.”
“I don’t need that!” Nic’s mother yelled. “I don’t want—”
“And... And maybe read about Nic in the news someday, doing something great. And you’ll know he made it. Because of the choice you made today.” Principal Ferenc’s voice was quieter now; it sounded nicer. Nic’s mom was still crying. “Ma’am, the transport leaves in four minutes. You need to get on that ship with the others if you’re going, with or without him. Otherwise, per your contract, we’ll just have you both escorted.”
“I just need a minute—”
“Ma’am—”
“I said I need a minute! To say goodbye to my son! You...” Now she sounded very mad, and Principal Ferenc didn’t say anything. A moment later, she was in the nurse’s office with Nic. Her eyes looked red and puffy. “Hey, my little champion. How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Nic said sheepishly. “Mom, I-I played King of the Hill today in PE.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I heard! I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“I’m okay.” She sat down on the plastic bed next to him. “Magister Alen said nobody won. I remember you told me to win today—you said, ‘Nic, play hard in PE today and win one for me.’ I remember you said that. So is that why you’re leaving, because I didn’t win?”
All of a sudden, tears ran down her face, but she was still smiling and her voice sounded normal when she spoke again. “Oh, no, Nic, not at all. I know you’ll do great wherever you go. You’re a born winner. Don’t ever give up, okay? I just want what’s best for you. Please don’t ever forget that.”
“Ma’am,” said Principal Ferenc.
Nic’s mom stood up and wiped her eyes, smiling wide again. “Can I have a hug?” He returned her hug, and she squeezed him tighter than he’d ever been squeezed, and she said, “I love you as big as the whole galaxy, Nicolas.” He started crying. When he looked for his mother, she turned away from him, led out of the nurse’s office by two strangers dressed all in gray.
He cried because she was leaving. He cried because he had forgotten to say “I love you as big as the whole universe” back, the way they always said it, and now he worried she’d forget. He’d always remember this moment—even when he got older.
Nic, like many other students in his class, needed to have long talks with Magisters and other nurses about why their mothers had to leave. No student at PPI had any parents present with them past the age of 5. They were always told that it was because PPI had their best interests in mind. PPI would take care of them. And when they were old enough, PPI would send them exactly where they were meant to go—for the good of humanity.
For a few years after she left, Nic resolved to find her once he was old enough to go looking. He was sure he could track her down and they would be a family again.
But as he got a little older, he wasn’t sure it was possible—he didn’t even remember her name. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever told it to him. And when he got a little older still, he grew to abandon all hope of ever contacting her again. It wasn’t as if he had the freedom to go anywhere or do anything. Communications between colony worlds were strictly for business and emergency purposes. Interstellar travel cost thousands of credits. Without the funds, his only way off-world was as a stowaway on a supply freighter—and they checked for those thoroughly.
His mother could have been dead or on the other side of the galaxy; it didn’t matter. She was forever out of his reach.
All he could do was remember what she told him.
“I know you’ll do great wherever you go.”
“You’re a born winner.”
“Don’t ever give up, okay?”
***
RESPAWNING: 1... RESPAWNING: 0...
“POV switch initializing,” said RTIFIS. “Proxybot engage.”
SimSuit support cords nudged him forward in his bunk. His HUD transitioned from a black screen to the POV of his next active proxybot. He stepped out of a different holding cell and into a completely different part of the Arena. They must design it this way on purpose, he thought. No hogging one particular area. Spread everybody out.
The Final Exam’s remaining time displayed first:
00:47:28
Then the time faded to become a transparent background in his HUD, replaced by his fresh proxybot stats.
PLAYER 443 [##########]100% SUBMACHINE GUN: 100/100 ROUNDS PISTOL: 30/30 ROUNDS COMBAT KNIFE: 20/20 SHARPNESS GRENADES: 2/2
He surveyed the battlefield for his next target immediately. Then a sudden voice in his ear made him flinch.
“You’re helping me,” said Nic, bewildered.
This voice was decidedly more robotic and lacked the chipper charm of the Final Exam’s introduction. He actually preferred it this way.
“Locate nearest Upgrade Pak.”
“It was worth a shot. Fine, uh... Locate nearest enemy.”
Nic checked the radar in the corner of his HUD; it showed a blinking dot indicating the presence of a proxybot to the northeast of his location. He looked up, orienting himself in the Arena, and saw his opponent staring him down from a distance of about 50 meters.
PLAYER 418: [##########]100%
Between them was a rock spire, at the top of which was an item of interest...
“Look at that,” Nic breathed. “Ask and you shall be denied... but you shall receive anyway.” Glowing on the top of the rock spire was a neon green octagon resting on an astrosteel plinth. His HUD tagged the name of the Upgrade Pak: Armorizer. He strapped the Submachine Gun to his back for better mobility. “Mine.”
With that, he bolted. He didn’t think about how ridiculous he probably looked flailing in his bunk. He didn’t care. His singular purpose was getting to the top of that structure and beating down anyone who tried to stand in his way.
By the time he reached the narrow rock structure, his adversary was already climbing it. He raced up as quickly as he could—Player 418 was already at the top when he arrived.
“Beat it,” said the proxy.
“You first.” Nic went to sweep their legs. 418 just grabbed onto the plinth for support, swaying uneasily, and shoved him with a metal boot to the face. He lost his balance and fell—grabbed hold of the edge of the spire and clawed his way back up.
He wound up and punched the other player hard in the jaw.
PLAYER 418: [########-_]88%
The enemy returned the favor—Nic ducked. He punched again, harder this time, and watched his classmate’s proxybot tumble down the rock formation and hit the ground.
PLAYER 418: [######-___]67%
Nic grabbed the Upgrade Pak.
“Now I just need to figure out how to use it,” he said.
“Upgrade Activate,” Nic echoed. His proxybot slapped the pak against its own chest—he felt a tingle ripple across his torso—and his HUD took on a lime green hue.
PLAYER 443 [##########] (##########) 200% >>ACTIVE UPGRADE PAK: ARMORIZER<<
He saw that his armor rating decreased by one percentage point per second, meaning that this boost in damage-taking capabilities would not last forever, even if he avoided getting hit. He didn’t waste another second—he jumped down from the spire with his Combat Knife at the ready. Player 418 had just stood up.
Nic thudded against the dusty ground behind him and plunged his Combat Knife into the back of the bot’s neck.
PLAYER 418: [####-_____]49%
Then he dug the blade out the side, tugging at bundles of wires that snapped with little sparks of electricity. The proxy dropped.
PLAYER 418 [DEAD] KILL! | +100pts PLAYER 443: 300pts [5TH]
Nic checked his fall damage coupled with the seconds that had passed since activating his brand-new toy.
PLAYER 443 [##########] (#######-__)173% >>ACTIVE UPGRADE PAK: ARMORIZER<<
“I’m losing ground,” he observed. “Three down. Seven to go.”
“You’re a born winner. Don’t ever give up, okay?”
Never.