Johnny thought for a while, and then typed: Youre not supoosed to give ni.

Want to go home.

Johnny typed: It says in the book you blue up a lot of planets.

Lies!

Johnny stared at the screen. What he wanted to type was: No, I mean, this cant happen, youre Aliens, you cant not want to be shot at, no other game aliens have ever stopped aliening across the screen, they never said We DonT Want to Go.

And then he thought: they never had the chance. They couldn’t.

But games are a lot better now.

They never made things like the old MegaZoids seem real, with stories about them and Full-Colour Graphics.

This is probably that Virtual Reality they’re always talking about on the television.

He typed: It is only a game, after all.

What is a game?

He typed: Who ARE you?

The screen flickered. Something a bit like a newt but more like an alligator looked back at him.

I am the Captain, said the yellow letters. Do not shoot!

Johnny typed: I shoot at you and you shoto at me. That is the game.

But we die.

Johnny typed: Sometimes I die. I die a lot.

But YOU live again.

Johnny stared at the words for a moment. Then he typed: Dont you?

No. How could this be? When we die, we die. For ever.

Johnny typed desperately: No, thats not right because, in the first mission, theres three ships you have to blow up before the first planet. I@ve played it lots of times and there@s always three ships there—

Different ships.

Johnny thought for a while and then typed: What happens if I switch of tthe machine?

We do not understand the question.

This is daft, thought Johnny. It’s just a very unusual game. It’s a special mission or something.

He typed: Why should I trust you?

LOOK BEHIND YOU.

Johnny sat bolt upright in his chair. Then he let himself swivel around, very cautiously.

Of course, there was no one there. Why should there be anyone there? It was a game.

The newt face had disappeared from the screen, leaving the familiar picture of the inside of the starfighter. And there was the radar screen—

– covered in yellow dots.

Yellow for the enemy.

Johnny picked up the joystick and turned the starfighter around. The entire ScreeWee fleet was there. Ship after ship was hanging in space behind him.

Little fighters, big cruisers, massive battleships.

If they all had him in their sights, and if they fired . . .

He didn’t want to die.

Hang on, hang on. You don’t die. You just play the game again.

This was nuts. It was time to stop it.

He typed: All right what happens now?

We want to go home.

He typed: All right no problem.

You give us safe conduct.

He typed: OK yes.

The screen went blank.

And that was it? No music? No ‘Congratulations, You’ve Got the Highest Score’?

Just the little prompt, flashing on and off.