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Shortest interrupted with an exaggerated cough. ‘Please do excuse me,’ he said, ‘but just one little thing. If you remember, Game Soc did reserve the right to insert into your game a single consequence, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten. And before you say anything else, Jolyon, you should probably hear me out.

‘The time has come, you see.’ Shortest gestured regretfully toward Jolyon and Chad as they exchanged panicked glances. ‘Our consequence is simple. It will be earned by whichever of you loses, obviously. And incidentally, we shall pursue our right to enforce performance with some considerable vigour, should the need arise. We have both the means and method for enforcement.’ Shortest waved his hand in apology. ‘But you are both honourable men in any case,’ he said. ‘Our consequence is as follows.’ Shortest paused, taking an immense pleasure in the slow release of his words. ‘The losing player will participate in another game,’ he said. ‘And that’s really all I can state for now.’

Shortest shrugged gleefully. ‘It was most important for us to find a very strong player,’ he said. ‘Shame we can’t ultimately take the winner. Although that would hardly be fair. Anyway, once your game is complete, the loser will be provided with the necessary information. A welcome pack to Game Soc, if you like.’ Shortest crossed his stubby legs in the armchair, removed the pillow from behind him and held it in his lap. ‘OK then, Jolyon,’ he said, smiling salaciously, ‘why don’t you tell us what it is you wanted to say?’

Jolyon blinked as his mind shrank rapidly around the truth – Game Soc had trapped them both.

Suddenly his bed felt very precarious as if it were a narrow ledge up high on a mountain. Jolyon had never been scared of heights but now he knew how it felt, his stomach rehearsing the fall, his head rushing wildly and beginning to spin. He was scared of Game Soc, he knew that now. And something else. The Game had not been fun for some time, that much was obvious. But now it was no longer even a game. Now it was simply a part of his life. And there were some things in life at which you couldn’t afford to lose. There wasn’t even such a thing as choice. Jolyon felt his lips peeling slowly apart as he opened his mouth to speak. One word, it seemed to take an age to heave it up from his chest. ‘No,’ said Jolyon, And then he felt a sickness in his belly, he was a plaything squeezed between the jaws of Game Soc. ‘No,’ he said, ‘there was nothing else at all I wanted to say.’

Silence. Shortest leaned forward in his chair as he turned to look at Chad. And then Chad hammered his fist on the desk. ‘No! You told me you’d quit,’ he shouted. ‘No, Jolyon, you’ve lost. You admitted I’ve won. You told me, you . . .’

Jolyon, somewhere far beneath his queasiness, felt a bitter sense of pleasure as he stared absently at Chad. ‘I recall no such conversation ever taking place between us,’ he said. The words felt automatic as if he had been programmed to say them by his helplessness.

Chad jumped to his feet and started to snatch up Jolyon’s possessions from the desk, throwing them at the wall, glasses breaking, pills bouncing. He grabbed a book and tore out its pages, he threw the dried rose to the floor and stamped until its petals were dust. And then, when he was done, he collapsed back into the chair and held his hands to his face. Breathing heavily, Chad lowered his hands and stared hard at Jolyon. ‘You’re leaving Pitt,’ he said, ‘you can’t continue. It’s over. You’re done.’

‘I’m thinking of moving to London,’ said Jolyon. ‘It’s not far on the train. I’m not quitting, I won’t.’

‘This has to be some kind of joke,’ Chad shouted. ‘Just look at you for chrissakes, Jolyon, you’re finished. So you’ll commute here to perform your consequences as well? Don’t waste everyone’s time.’

‘Or maybe I could get a job in the car factory. I’ll rent a place at the edge of the city.’

‘The car factory? That’s ludicrous.’

Jolyon’s throat was parched and his voice began to crack. ‘This isn’t the end,’ he said, the words almost as broken as Jolyon himself. He closed his eyes, his voice barely more than a scratch. ‘I’m not quitting, Chad,’ he said. ‘I’m not quitting. I won’t.’

LXX(iv) They stared at each other while Shortest remained motionless in the armchair, cross-legged and smiling like a lucky Buddha. Jolyon had made his final move and he waited.