Kelly stared at Derek.
And Derek stared right back.
'I think it's incredible,' said Kelly. 'I mean, well, I've never seen a collection like this before. I'm absolutely knocked out. You don't by any chance have adventure?'
'Warren Robinette, Atari 2600 VCS, 1979.'
'You mean Warren "Easter Egg [6]" Robinette, he was the catalyst for all the cheats and hidden stuff. He was the one who got the ball rolling back in '79.'
'Well, that was Atari really. It was their policy that prevented the designers from getting any sort of recognition in the game or in the packaging. The designers were bound to rebel.'
'But moving an invisible "dot" to above the catacombs with the bridge and all the rest. Trust a twelve-year-old to find that one out.'
'Robinette thought he'd really get busted for that, but the gamers loved it. Atari couldn't help but add hidden features in nearly all its new games from then on. He was the start of the Easter Egg phenomena.'
Kelly whistled. Women don't generally whistle as a rule. Some do, when they're really impressed. Or when you do that special thing to them. And most women will only let you do that special thing to them once, anyway.
Kelly whistled again. 'I've surely misjudged you, Derek,' she said. 'You may be a spineless wimp, no offence meant…’
'None taken, I assure you.'
'But I never had you down as a collector of twentieth-century console games.'
'You approve then?'
'God yes.'
Derek grinned. 'Brilliant,' he said.
'Do you have canyon bomber, Atari 2600 VS, 1978?'
Derek grinned again and pulled a cartridge from his shelf. 'Of course I do,' he said.
Kelly said, 'Can I touch?'
'Certainly you can.' Derek passed the precious thing in her direction. And Kelly ran a finger lovingly across it.
'But this must be worth a fortune. It's a compilation of those arcade coin-operated machine classics canyon bomber and depth charge. Now that was a marriage made in silicon heaven.'
'Yes, yes,' said Derek. 'I got it in a car boot sale.'
'No, you never did.'
'You can play me at it, if you want. Can you play?'
'Can I play? I can play them all. I spent my first ever wage packet at the Museum of Video Games in Penge. Ten hours on kaboom!'
'Oh yeah, I've got that here somewhere. Larry Kaplan game… 1981.'
'Based on avalanche in the arcade. Totally addictive, you could be there for ever if allowed. Kind of like tetris in that respect.'
'I know where you're coming from, I assure you,' said Derek.
'Money well spent. Although my mum thought I should have given her some of my wages. Mothers eh? What do they know about video games?'
'Damn all,' said Derek. 'My mum thinks they're stupid.'
'Because she's never played night driver.'
'You've played night driver.'
'Rob Fulop, 1979, Atari 2600 VCS. Only 2K of programming you know.'
'Also famously featured in the video-arcade sequence in George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead, of the very same year.'
'Like I didn't know. I snapped that one up pretty damn quick. I got paid the second week too. And the third. My mum never got any room and board though. Eventually she said that I'd have to go out and make my own way in the world. As I had enough qualifications, I went off to uni. Studied computer tech.'
'Don't tell me what's coming. You got access to their games archive.'
'Downloaded the lot into my PC. I've got 700 games on CD.'
‘I’ll bet you haven't got this,' said Derek. And he did some furtive lockings both ways before dropping down to his knees.
'What are you doing?' Kelly asked.
'You'll have to stand back. I have to lift the carpet.'
Kelly stared. 'Derek,' she said. 'You appear to have a floorboard with a combination lock on it.'
'So would you,' said Derek. 'If you had what I've got.'
'Oh no,' said Kelly. 'Don't tell me you have a copy of…'
'I have,' said Derek, twiddling the combination.
'You don't have. I don't believe it.'
Derek lifted the floorboard and brought out a metal box. He fished into his shirt and displayed the key that he wore on a chain around his neck.
And then he opened the box with it.
'Behold,' said Derek. 'impossible mission.'
Kelly's eyes widened. 'No,' she said. 'No, I thought that this was just a myth. No.'
'Yes,' said Derek. 'Yes indeed.'
'Oh my God,' said Kelly. 'But this is the Holy Grail that game-collectors dream about finding. What system does it run on?'
'It's for the Atari 7800,' said Derek. 'And it's in its original case, as you can see. And I have the game guide. And I know where the Easter Eggs are.'
'Is it the early or the late release version?' asked Kelly.
'It's an early one,' Derek said confidently.
'And have you reached the deadlock point?'
'Deadlock point?' said Derek. 'Are you kidding?'
'You mean you have? What happens?'
'No,' said Derek. 'I mean I haven't. I haven't played this. This isn't for playing. It's for owning. It's for, dare I say this? Yes I dare. This is for gloating over. I wouldn't play this game.'
'But,' Kelly stared at the original case. 'What if it doesn't work?'
'It would work,' said Derek. 'I paid a fortune for it. It would work OK. But it's too precious a thing to actually play. That would be like sacrilege somehow.'
Kelly stared now at Derek. 'You paid a fortune for it,' she said. 'And you've never dared to play it.'
'I wouldn't dare,' said Derek. 'What if I broke it, before I got to the deadlock point?'
'But what if it doesn't work? What if it doesn't run? What if it's a fake? Or a later version without the deadlock point?'
Derek nodded slowly. 'My thoughts entirely,' he said. 'Which is one of the reasons I've never played it. What if it is a fake? I have faith in it. The way Christians have faith in Christ. But what if there was suddenly some proof available, some unarguable proof that Christ didn't exist? That he never existed? And you could give this proof to a Christian, all packaged up in an original case like this one. What would you, as a Christian, do? Would you open the case? Or would you refuse to open it and go on believing in Christ?'
'I'd open the case,' said Kelly.
'But what if you didn't want the existence of Christ to be disproved? What if you wanted Christ to exist?'