Learn an extract from The Participant of Video games by Iain M. Banks

That is the story of a person who went far-off for a very long time, simply to play a sport. The person is a game-player referred to as “Gurgeh.” The story begins with a battle that’s not a battle, and ends with a sport that’s not a sport.

Me? I’ll inform you about me later. That is how the story begins.

Mud drifted with every footstep. He limped throughout the desert, following the suited determine in entrance. The gun was quiet in his arms. They should be almost there; the noise of distant surf boomed by way of the helmet soundfield. They had been approaching a tall dune, from which they ought to have the ability to see the coast. In some way he had survived; he had not anticipated to.

It was shiny and scorching and dry outdoors, however contained in the swimsuit he was shielded from the solar and the baking air; cosseted and funky. One fringe of the helmet visor was darkish, the place it had taken successful, and the fitting leg flexed awkwardly, additionally broken, making him limp, however in any other case he’d been fortunate. The final time they’d been attacked had been a kilometer again, and now they had been almost out of vary.

The flight of missiles cleared the closest ridge in a glittering arc. He noticed them late due to the broken visor. He thought the missiles had already began firing, however it was solely the daylight reflecting on their modern our bodies. The flight dipped and swung collectively, like a flock of birds.

After they did begin firing it was signaled by strobing purple pulses of sunshine. He raised his gun to fireplace again; the opposite suited figures within the group had already began firing. Some dived to the dusty desert ground, others dropped to at least one knee. He was the one one standing.

The missiles swerved once more, turning after which splitting as much as take completely different instructions. Mud puffed round his toes as photographs fell shut. He tried to goal at one of many small machines, however they moved startlingly rapidly, and the gun felt giant and awkward in his arms. His swimsuit chimed over the distant noise of firing and the shouts of the opposite individuals; lights winked contained in the helmet, detailing the injury. The swimsuit shook and his proper leg went instantly numb.

“Get up, Gurgeh!” Yay laughed, alongside him. She swiveled on one knee as two of the small missiles swung instantly at their part of the group, sensing that was the place it was weakest. Gurgeh noticed the machines coming, however the gun sang wildly in his arms, and appeared all the time to be aiming at the place the missiles had simply been. The 2 machines darted for the area between him and Yay. One of many missiles flashed as soon as and disintegrated; Yay shouted, exulting. The opposite missile swung between them; she lashed out together with her foot, making an attempt to kick it. Gurgeh turned awkwardly to fireplace at it, unintentionally scattering fireplace over Yay’s swimsuit as he did so. He heard her cry out after which curse. She staggered, however introduced the gun spherical; fountains of mud burst across the second missile because it turned to face them once more, its purple pulses lighting up his swimsuit and filling his visor with darkness. He felt numb from the neck down and crumpled to the bottom. It went black and really quiet.

“You might be lifeless,” a crisp little voice informed him.

He lay on the unseen desert ground. He might hear distant, muffled noises, sense vibrations from the bottom. He heard his personal coronary heart beat, and the ebb and move of his breath. He tried to carry his respiration and gradual his coronary heart, however he was paralyzed, imprisoned, with out management.

His nostril itched. It was unimaginable to scratch it. What am I doing right here? he requested himself.

Sensation returned. Folks had been speaking, and he was staring by way of the visor on the flattened desert mud a centimeter in entrance of his nostril. Earlier than he might transfer, anyone pulled him up by one arm.

He unlatched his helmet. Yay Meristinoux, additionally bare-headed, stood taking a look at him and shaking her head. Her arms had been on her hips, her gun swung from one wrist. “You had been horrible,” she stated, although not unkindly. She had the face of a ravishing baby, however the gradual, deep voice was understanding and roguish; a low-slung voice.

The others sat round on the rocks and mud, speaking. Just a few had been heading again to the membership home. Yay picked up Gurgeh’s gun and offered it to him. He scratched his nostril, then shook his head, refusing to take the weapon.

“Yay,” he informed her, “that is for kids.”

She paused, slung her gun over one shoulder, and shrugged (and the muzzles of each weapons swung within the daylight, glinting momentarily, and he noticed the rushing line of missiles once more, and was dizzy for a second).

“So?” she stated. “It isn’t boring. You stated you had been bored; I believed you may get pleasure from a shoot.”

He dusted himself down and turned again towards the membership home. Yay walked alongside. Restoration drones drifted previous them, gathering the parts of the destructed machines.

“It’s childish, Yay. Why fritter your time away with this nonsense?”

They stopped on the high of the dune. The low membership home lay 100 meters away, between them and the golden sand and snow-white surf. The ocean was shiny beneath the excessive solar.

“Don’t be so pompous,” she informed him. Her quick brown hair moved in the identical wind which blew the tops from the falling waves and despatched the ensuing spray curling again out to sea. She stooped to the place some items of a shattered missile lay half buried within the dune, picked them up, blew sand grains off the shining surfaces, and turned the parts over in her arms. “I get pleasure from it,” she stated. “I benefit from the kind of video games you want, however . . . I get pleasure from this too.” She seemed puzzled. “This is a sport. Don’t you get any pleasure from this kind of factor?”

“No. And neither will you, after some time.”

She shrugged simply. “Until then, then.” She handed him the components of the disintegrated machine. He inspected them whereas a bunch of younger males handed, heading for the firing ranges.

“Mr. Gurgeh?” One of many younger males stopped, taking a look at Gurgeh quizzically. A fleeting expression of annoyance handed throughout the older man’s face, to get replaced by the amused tolerance Yay had seen earlier than in such conditions. “Jernau Morat Gurgeh?” the younger man stated, nonetheless not fairly certain.

“Responsible.” Gurgeh smiled gracefully and — Yay noticed — straightened his again fractionally, drawing himself up a bit of. The youthful man’s face lit up. He executed a fast, formal bow. Gurgeh and Yay exchanged glances.

“An honor to fulfill you, Mr. Gurgeh,” the younger man stated, smiling extensively. “My identify’s Shuro . . . I’m . . .” He laughed. “I comply with all of your video games; I’ve a whole set of your theoretical works on file . . .”

Gurgeh nodded. “How complete of you.”

“Actually. I’d be honored if, any time you’re right here, you’d play me at . . . properly, something. Deploy might be my greatest sport; I play off three factors, however —”

“Whereas my handicap, regrettably, is lack of time,” Gurgeh stated. “However, actually, if the prospect ever arises, I shall be joyful to play you.” He gave a touch of a nod to the youthful man. “A pleasure to have met you.”

The younger man flushed and backed off, smiling. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Gurgeh. . . . Goodbye . . . goodbye.” He smiled awkwardly, then turned and walked off to hitch his companions.

Yay watched him go. “You get pleasure from all that stuff, don’t you, Gurgeh?” she grinned.

“By no means,” he stated briskly. “It’s annoying.”

Yay continued to observe the younger man strolling away, wanting him up and down as he tramped off by way of the sand. She sighed. “However what about you?” Gurgeh seemed with distaste on the items of missile in his arms. “Do you get pleasure from all this . . . destruction?”

“It’s hardly destruction,” Yay drawled. “The missiles are explosively dismantled, not destroyed. I can put a kind of issues again collectively in half an hour.”

“So it’s false.”

“What isn’t?”

“Mental achievement. The train of talent. Human feeling.”

Yay’s mouth twisted in irony. She stated, “I can see we now have a protracted method to go earlier than we perceive one another, Gurgeh.”

“Then let me enable you.”

“Be your protégée?”

“Sure.”

Yay seemed away, to the place the rollers fell in opposition to the golden seashore, after which again once more. Because the wind blew and the surf pounded, she reached slowly behind her head and introduced the swimsuit’s helmet over, clicking it into place. He was left staring on the reflection of his personal face in her visor. He ran one hand by way of the black locks of his hair.

Yay flicked her visor up. “I’ll see you, Gurgeh. Chamlis and I are coming spherical to your house the day after tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“If you’d like.”

“I need.” She winked at him and walked again down the slope of sand. He watched her go. She handed his gun to a restoration drone because it handed her, loaded with glittering metallic particles.

Gurgeh stood for a second, holding the bits of wrecked machine. Then he let the fragments drop again to the barren sand.

This extract is taken from Iain M. Banks’s Tradition novel The Player of Games (Orbit), the December 2025 learn for the New Scientist Guide Membership. Signal as much as learn together with us right here.