Crispin examined the screen. The scene was open moorland and a party of trolls in hover pods was pursuing a convoy of wheeled vehicles. It was the sort of situation he knew from the games. The people who were being chased didn't stand a chance unless they were in league with monsters that would shoot at the trolls with ray guns or hurl boulders at them from the tops of cliffs.

Since trolls only went after bad people and bad people were in league with monsters it was a plausible scenario. The player had to eliminate the monsters and capture the fugitives who would be dispatched to a correctional centre where they would be re-educated and returned to society as reformed citizens.

This time it was for real. Crispin watched the drama unfold. Everything looked much the same as in the games but with differences. There were no monsters and few prisoners. The trolls blasted the lead vehicle to pieces with their ray guns and swooped on the others when they became bogged down.

The occupants were ordered out. Women and children were killed and the men herded into the hover pods. A man who pulled a knife was bludgeoned to death and incinerated with a ray gun.

Crispin's hand shook.

'I guessed it was like this but it still comes as a shock.'

'We shall put an end to it,' Tom growled.

'It is our duty, Professor.

'It is Crispin. The guardians invented a tyrannical system of oppression and it worked for a while. Now it is falling apart at the seams. One good push is all that is needed.'

'It's stuffed, Professor.'

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Tom was pleased that Crispin was expanding his vocabulary.

'Yes ... Crispin ... stuffed.'

'How can we take advantage of its vulnerability?'

'Highjack it.'

'You mean we should penetrate the inner core of the composite cognitive capability and render it subservient to our demands?'

'Spot on, Crispin.'

'Is that another military term, Professor?'

'Dead right, Crispin.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'Flip around the channels. Do a hunt for rogue trolls.'

'What are they, Professor?'

'Trolls that aren't totally troll-like.'

'Why's that?'

'One of the factories produced a run of faulty microchips. The guardians' quality control is so bad that thousands of baby trolls received crud implants before anyone was prepared to admit that anything was wrong.'

'What happened to the trolls?'

'They took off into the mountains. That's what monsters are. They are mistakes the guardians made. They call them monsters and pretend they are leftovers from The Fall. They want people to believe they are breeding out there and an army of trolls is needed to keep them under control.'




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