Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Adam loved to travel. It was one of the reasons he'd helped design the Jet Lag concept. It brought him to places he would otherwise never go, showed him sights both famous and entirely unknown. It was the thrill of competition mixed with the joy of discovery. From that perspective, the rippling metallic tunnel in the cliff face ahead of them ought to fill him with delight, for it was certainly like nothing he'd ever seen before.

The problem was, there were no trains. There were no cell phones. There were no cameras, at least not ones under his control. And he and Ben were playing for their lives.

Adam twisted the handles of the hoverbike backwards, bringing the vehicle to a gentle halt. Like most of the devices they'd encountered on this planet, it was bright and colorful and easily controlled even by someone who'd never seen such a thing before. Go, go fast, go slow, stop. It did what it needed to do and it refused to do anything else. It might have been the alien equivalent of a child's toy. Did their captors think of them as children? Would they do this to their children?

"Is that a forcefield?" Ben said from his seat behind Adam. He pointed at the tunnel mouth, where the air appeared to flicker and glow.

"Don't touch it," Adam said, even though Ben hadn't yet made a move to get off the bike.

"I want to touch it," Ben said immediately.

"Don't touch anything."

"Well, I can't fly, you know," Ben said, shifting his legs.

Adam couldn't help but smile, just a little. "Let me get the pad out."

They didn't have iphones, which wouldn't be much use on an alien planet, but the mysterious game masters understood either Jet Lag or human culture in general well enough to understand the value of handheld information devices. All competitors had been issued with large data pads which displayed a general map of the game course along with routes and challenge nodes (but no tracking data for the other team). There was even a coin counter and a mini-store for purchasing game powerups and bizarre 'snack foods'. As far as Adam knew, no one had risked setting powerups into play, but the 'snacks' were the only option for sustenance outside of rest periods and the water bottles that the contestants were allowed to carry, so they were worth a little extra effort. At least someone knew that humans needed water to survive, especially when they were under physical stress.

The 'snacks' resembled early AI generation attempts at food. Bright packaging with recognisable shapes jammed together into monstrous hybrids with extra berries and tails popping out unexpectedly, and symbols that almost read like English letters if you squinted hard enough, but not making any recognisable words. Ben and Adam had to invent pronunciations for their Snack Zone reviews - reviews granted them a 50% rebate on the coins used to purchase the snack, and it didn't seem to matter whether they liked the item or not, so it was always worth doing. "Thixi" had been one of the better options, vaguely resembling a rocky road chocolate bar with big marshmallow lumps. "Slurt Squids" had been a bag of gelatinous yellow blob shapes that resembled ghosts more than sealife, smelled like egg, and tasted like cold mashed potato. "Sceeeeeeees" were bright orange and made your eyes water and your tongue burn; they threw those away after the first taste. They had no choice but to trust that the game controllers wouldn't poison them out of hand, but there was no sense in pushing their luck. The challenges were bad enough.

When the team reached a location of interest, the pad would display an explanation of the challenges and the penalties that would apply if those challenges weren't accomplished, as well as any optional bonuses. Nothing was ever written to be impossibly dangerous, no biking off cliffs or anything like that, but there was a distinct difference between a hazard in your home country where help was only a phone call away and a hazard on an alien world where your only source of aid was the people who were torturing you for fun. Adam knew that if he'd ever run too fast in Tag and missed the step onto a train and gashed his leg along the gap of the platform, Sam would have halted the game immediately and put all his resources into making sure everyone was taken care of. Sam was their boss, but he was also their friend. It didn't even need that: he was a human being and not a monster. Only a monster would put content above people, right?

Unfortunately, Adam wasn't so sure that their captors weren't monsters.

If one of them sprained an ankle out here, would the game be paused? Would first aid be provided? Or would they be forced to limp along, still playing for their lives but now with a bigger penalty to overcome? Adam feared the worst, and for that reason, he took on as many of the physical challenges as he dared. He knew his own body and knew how much abuse it could handle. He knew how much he could climb before his arms would get shaky. He knew what he could afford to risk. What he couldn't afford to risk was Ben. Ben had never been the best at running or jumping or balancing, his talents were more mental and emotional. His odd way of thinking often found fast solutions to alien puzzles, and it had seemed almost inevitable that one of the early challenges had involved getting Ben drunk. Again.

Adam held up the pad so that the data could synchronise.

On the map, this node was a chokepoint where all routes converged before branching out again for the next section. Glancing at the cliff face in front of them, Adam could see why. No human could climb that. Going around it could take days on a bike. It was the tunnel or nothing. They had to get past the forcefield to proceed.

He hadn't said so to Ben, because he didn't want to get his hopes up, but he had been hoping that Sam would be waiting here for them. The teams hadn't seen each other since the beginning of the game, when they had taken separate paths. Since they had no tracking data for the other team, they had no idea who was behind or ahead, and no way to coordinate a meeting. There had been times when the roads might have met, but no way to know if either of them had even gone towards that node. This was the only guaranteed crossover. Like the ferry in New Zealand, everyone had to come here eventually. It was the perfect time to compare notes and make plans, maybe even try to scheme some way to escape from this game.

Sam and his partner weren't here. Maybe they were running behind, and Ben and Adam had just gotten here first. Was there any way to tell?

The pad made a familiar chiming noise as the challenge description loaded.

"... no," said Adam. "No. That can't be right."

"What is it?" Ben asked.

Adam quickly twisted to hide the screen from view. "Bad signal," he said. "It came through jumbled. I need to reset the display. Let's, ah, let's stretch our legs a little bit."

"Yeah," said Ben. He slid off the hoverbike, stumbling a bit when his feet hit the ground. "I need to visit the little boys' room."

"Don't touch anything," Adam repeated.

"I have to touch my pants or they'll get wet, and nobody wants wet pants," said Ben. He paused a moment for a reaction, but Adam was too focused on the pad to notice. "Okay," said Ben, and wandered off into the underbrush, just out of sight. It was something they'd had to get used to during their alien adventure.

Adam was still staring at the pad.

Chapter Text

"No no no no no," Adam muttered, shaking the pad as if it were an Etch-a-Sketch and could erase the words. "No..."

The worst part of their situation all along had been not knowing what Sam and his partner were doing. Were they pushing ahead, clearing challenges as fast as possible to guarantee themselves the win and safety? Or were they hanging back, deliberately drawing things out to avoid reaching the finish line and sentencing one team to doom?

If they'd arrived here with no evidence at all of whether Sam's team had reached this point yet, they would have faced a logical dilemma. If they trusted that Sam would cooperate, would not continue to the finish line without talking to them first, then the right thing to do would be to wait here indefinitely for him to catch up. But if Sam had been and gone, then any moment spent waiting for him would be giving him that much more of a lead. How long would they have dared to linger? How long would their trust have held out?

That wasn't a question now. Sam had betrayed them. He'd reached this point first - he'd known that he'd been first, based on the way the challenge text had updated. He'd read the information and instead of waiting, he'd chosen to proceed through the tunnel, knowing that he was leaving the second team in a death trap.

How could he just write them off in cold blood? Adam knew that Sam's emotions came across a bit blunted sometimes, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. He knew that Sam got very focused on logic and winning. They were both competitive people, there was nothing wrong with being competitive, it didn't make you evil. Sam cared about them! They were all friends. Sam was always adjusting the Jet Lag rules to ensure everyone's safety, to ensure that basic needs were met and everyone got food and sleep... because he knew that if that wasn't in the rules, they'd push themselves too hard in order to win. Was this what Sam was, without any rules? Would he literally do anything in order to win?

Adam couldn't believe it. Adam didn't want to believe it. Adam had no choice but to believe it. The pad stared back at him, text unchanging. Sam had seen the rules that said someone had to die to proceed, and he'd left them to it.

God, how was he going to tell Ben?

Maybe this was all some kind of sick joke. What was a 'purple pentagon' anyway? Maybe this wasn't the real challenge and it would clear itself after the aliens got the reaction they wanted. He whipped his head back and forth, scanning the area, hoping to see nothing... and deflated. There it was. A big purple lump or button or something, right there on the cliff wall. At least that was the opposite direction from where Ben had gone to relieve himself, so he couldn't bump into it by accident.

How could Sam do this to them, after everything they'd shared together?

"Goddammit!" Adam snarled, his fingers clawing in frustration. If Sam had been there at that moment, he would have punched him right in the -

"You okay?" came Ben's distant call. He'd gone out of sight, but not out of earshot, of course. He wasn't stupid. They were on an alien planet and dangers could be anywhere.

"It's fine, buddy!" Adam lied. "Take your time."

It wasn't like it would make any difference. They were well and truly fucked.

Adam took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. He had to stay in control, for both of them.

By the time Ben returned, Adam was able to force a shaky smile onto his face. "Hey, buddy. We've got... We've got a pretty bad situation here."

"Let me see." Ben reached for the pad. Reluctantly, Adam handed it over. He watched as Ben's eyes shifted back and forth, taking in the words. Part of him hoped that Ben would come up with some brilliant explanation, or at least a joke to lighten the tension, even though it really wasn't funny. But Ben's face remained strangely blank. At last, he spoke. "So, I guess there's only one thing to do."

Adam sighed. "Yeah."

"It has to be me."

"It - wait, what?"

"I'm the one that gets sacrificed," Ben said.

"Don't - don't be crazy!" Adam spluttered. "I am not sacrificing you."

"It's a trolley problem. It's a binary choice. You or me," Ben said.

"Trolley problems aren't real!" Adam snapped. "They're a false dilemma. There are always other options in any real situation - "

" - except," said Ben, "when you're kidnapped by a maniac and forced to push a button." He spread his arms wide and twisted his head back and forth, indicating their surroundings. "You see where we are?"

Adam clutched his head. "Okay, so this scenario is crazy, but - "

"One of us has to go, so logically, it should be me," Ben continued. "I slow you down. I'm always slowing you down. You practically had to carry me through the water loops. I'm not strong enough and I'm putting you at risk. I'm the ballast. You have to drop me."

"Hey! Buddy! Listen to me!" Adam grabbed Ben by the shoulders and shook him a little. "You are not a burden. You are not a weight. You are smart and you are wonderful and I wouldn't trade you for anyone else. And I certainly wouldn't sacrifice you!"

"But it has to be me," Ben said, his face more worried now. "You're the only one of us with a chance to beat Sam - "

"I don't want to beat Sam!" Adam yelled. Ben's shoulders twitched in reaction, and Adam tried to lower his voice. "I don't - I can't - I will not win a game if it means killing my friends." He pulled the shorter man against him in a rough hug. "I love you. And I love Sam, even if he's turned on us. I'm not sacrificing anyone. I just can't."

Ben pulled away, running a hand through his already-rumpled hair. "But if we lose this race, we die."

"Yeah, well, at least we go knowing we did the right thing." Adam was settled on it now. He couldn't live with himself if he traded anyone else's life for his own. Not even Sam's. "Ben, we... we created Jet Lag to go on adventures together. We've seen and done so many things. Some of them kind of sucked and some of them were amazing. We've lived, buddy. And that's what it's supposed to be about. Not some race for our lives. Just you and me, exploring the world. These aliens, they got it all wrong. Maybe they'll see that, if we stop playing their game."

Ben nodded slowly. "So what are we going to do?"

Adam took a deep breath. "We get back on the bike and fly to another checkpoint, a challenge we haven't done. Maybe there's some special bonus we didn't see. If the bike doesn't work, we go on foot. We just get as far as we can, see what we can see." And if Sam crossed the finish line... at least they'd go together. He forced a wide grin. "Strange new worlds, baby!"

"Yeah. Okay." Ben looked up at him and gave a little crooked smile, but his eyes lacked their usual sparkle. "Good plan." He tilted his head back, squinting up at the green, cloudy sky. "Be nice to see the sunset," he said softly.

Adam blew out a shaky gust of air, dizzy as the waves of tension ebbed. He'd been speaking partly to reassure Ben during that surprise confrontation, but there was a certain logic to it as well. These aliens were clearly "fans" of the show. Why would they set up such a brutal no-win scenario? That wasn't good game design. There had to be ways to catch up. Maybe there really was a secret hidden in one of the little offshoot branches they hadn't chosen to take. Maybe something in the powerups?

There was still time left in the game. Based on the map and the distance they'd covered so far, it would take Sam more than a day to reach the finish line even if he'd been outpacing them all along. It wasn't over, not yet. There was always a solution. Logistics and reason and good planning could always find an alternative.

He heard a strange sound behind him.

"Ben? What are you... BEN!!"

It was already too late.

Ben was never the physical one. Adam was taller, stronger, faster. But Adam was worn out from days of anxiety and physical exertion and bad sleep as they traversed alien terrain. He was off his guard, distracted by the shock of Sam's betrayal, the unexpected argument, and the need to plan a new strategy. It took him a moment to react, and Ben was surprisingly quick over short distances.

Before Adam's outflung fingers could grab hold of Ben's jumpsuit, Ben slammed his own hand onto the purple pentagon button.

The air filled with light, a brilliance so searing that Adam couldn't help closing his eyes against it, and even then, the brightness was painful. His hands flew by instinct to cover his face, and he blinked repeatedly, half-blinded by strange colors.

"... buddy?"

No answer. Adam shook his head, fighting to clear his vision.

"Ben?"

Silence.

At last, the colors faded enough that Adam could see again. The scene around him looked largely undisturbed. There were no scorch marks, no smoke, no sign of any damage, no sign of Ben. Not even a b... no sign. Only one thing had changed: the flickering light over the mouth of the tunnel had disappeared. The forcefield was gone.

"Ben, come back," Adam whispered.

Nothing happened.

Adam Chase was not an easy-going, all-loving man. He wasn't the sort to give away his possessions to strangers just because they asked for them. In a polite society, he sometimes resembled a bull in a china shop. But he wasn't hateful. Hate was not an emotion that came easily to him, until now.

He hated the aliens who had put them in this situation just to torture them for entertainment.

He hated Sam, for turning his back on his best friends and leaving them in a no-win scenario.

He hated Ben, for being a vibes-driven idiot who couldn't hold still for thirty seconds and just think things through.

Most of all, he hated himself for failing, for losing the most important race of his life, for being right there and letting it slip through his fingers. Ben was gone, and it was his fault, and he could never tell him, never say, never...

Adam's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the spongy alien ground. Tilting his head back, he screamed.

Chapter Text

An hour earlier...

Sam brought his hoverbike to a complete halt before allowing himself to sigh. He wasn't displeased. Not really. This was not a setback, it was actually the most likely outcome. His plan was still valid.

"Still," he started to say, and then cut himself off.

Still, it would have been a relief to find the boys here waiting for him. To find anyone at all.

Ever since losing his partner to "indefinite time-out" as a penalty for a poorly-judged challenge decision, Sam had been alone on an alien world.

He didn't normally mind being alone. People said that he 'lived in his head' sometimes. Sam didn't think that was fair. He was quite well-grounded in his body, not just his mind. He liked activity, exploring, pushing himself. He was not normally lonely in his own company, especially not when he had a challenge to overcome. On the other hand, there was something unsettling about being on his own in such an environment, something more foreign than foreign, where even the stars were wrong. Every sight and every sound prickled at his senses, bypassing his usual ability to judge friend from foe. Here, nothing was safe. He had no support, no one to watch his back, and at the same time the knowledge that unfriendly forces were watching him at all times. It was like solitary confinement without the confinement. He understood the psychological mechanism, but he hadn't appreciated the intensity. And so, if he wasn't careful, he'd talk to himself.

He had to be careful. He couldn't risk giving his plan away.

Here it was, then, the choke point. The only guaranteed spot on the map where all paths converged. The logical place for both teams to meet up and finally have a chance to share information. With no tracker, neither team had any idea how the other was progressing, or if they were all right. Seeing the boys here, alive and unharmed, would have been a relief.

They weren't here, though, and that opened up several possibilities. One was that they were ahead of him and had chosen not to wait at the choke point. The second was that they were on their way but hadn't gotten here yet. The third was that they weren't coming at all - that they had either chosen not to play the game or something had happened to them.

If it was the first, he needed to get moving as soon as possible. If it was the second, he should wait here to reconnect. If it was the third, well, in the third case he also needed to hurry, because he might be the only chance that the other team had to survive.

Sam had a plan. A plan to break the game.

Their alien captors had forced them into this game by threatening their lives, all to make the Jet Lag team perform for their entertainment. They had created twisted facsimiles of a game course, challenges, penalties, rewards. They were obviously watching and enjoying how this nightmare played out. They didn't just want to torture hapless humans to death, they wanted to see them compete, to struggle and scheme like they did on their own show. To make that work, they needed a system of rules and way of communicating information to the players: the datapads.

By experimenting with the powerup store and using different materials and positions to shield the datapad while he purchased items and refreshed listings, Sam had been able to triangulate the source of the signal that ran the central system. In a particular position on the other side of the map, past the choke point, there was a data center, or an antenna, or some other broadcasting mechanism. A game controller. If he could reach that point and disable or destroy the mechanism, then the game network would shut down. With no ability to update information, the game could no longer run. They would have to cancel it and declare it a draw - no winner, no loser.

It wouldn't get them their freedom, but it was a clear sight better than the losing team being killed.

If he could shut down this game, if he could get the aliens to talk to him, then surely he could convince them that they were going about everything all wrong. He'd be happy to compete on an alien obstacle course with properly-designed rules and restrictions. A mild risk of death was something he could accept for himself, but it wasn't right to trap the others into it, and the guaranteed demise of the losers was no way to run a competition. You couldn't get quality athletes without the ability to learn from losing.

But that was later. Right now, he had to examine the current challenge and decide whether to wait or proceed.

The datapad chimed as its display updated.

"Okay," Sam said aloud. It was not okay, but he was not going to show it, especially not to whomever had invented this twist. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Sacrificed. Elminated. They didn't say 'killed', but that was no guarantee of safety. The way this game had been set up so far, the odds of them being euphemisms were too high to ignore.

Sam looked over at the cliff wall. The tunnel opening was obvious and unblocked. No barrier, and he hadn't been eliminated. That meant he was almost certainly the first to reach this checkpoint. That was good. It meant he could afford to wait a while for Ben and Adam to catch up.

Was it good, though?

He had no teammate anymore. If he didn't go through the checkpoint first, he would be automatically eliminated. But if he went through the checkpoint, then Ben and Adam would be stuck here and couldn't progress any further in the game.

It didn't meant they would lose. He didn't intend for anyone to lose, he intended to shut down the network and stop the game. But he couldn't explain that in detail or the aliens might do something to stop him. He had to get to the broadcast point before they suspected what he was up to. Because of that, he couldn't tell Ben and Adam anything more than that he had a plan and needed to go ahead while they stayed behind. Would they believe him, or would they think it was a trick to ensure his own victory?

If Ben and Adam were here, all they'd have to do to win would be to enter the tunnel. Sam would be instantly eliminated. On a purely rational level, that move would make sense. Ben and Adam were best friends. He was their boss. They liked him, but when it came down to it, it was obvious that they valued each other more. More importantly, there were two of them and only one of him. On the numbers, as a pure trolley problem, the logical choice would be to sacrifice him to save themselves.

Maybe it was the logical choice. Maybe he ought to let them.

He had a plan, but his plan was risky. Was it worth it? It was a chance that they'd all get out of this alive, but it was equally a chance that they would all be punished. Maybe it would be better to give up and let Ben and Adam win. Maybe he should wait for them here and let them decide. Or would it be cruel, if he forced them to pull the switch themselves?

No matter what logic said, Sam didn't really want to die.

Maybe it didn't matter. The challenge said the first to reach the checkpoint. Did they mean the first to get here and read the challenge text or the first to actually pass through the tunnel? Maybe Sam was the only one allowed to proceed.

What sort of ridiculous challenge was this, anyway? It was terrible game design. If one team was eliminated at this point then the other would have no competitor. The rest of the game would lack any tension! How could these aliens be such obsessive Jet Lag fans and yet have no understanding of what made the game work? This wasn't a challenge, it was a psychology experiment.

Maybe he was overthinking things. Sam knew he got worked up sometimes. People told him he 'lost track of reality'. None of this felt like reality. Kidnapped by aliens? Maybe he'd completely lost his mind.

"Wish," he said.

He wished Ben and Adam were here. Ben was a comfortable presence. He made Sam smile, he didn't ask for too much in return. Adam was a grounding force. He made the world feel more solid just by being in it. If Sam could see them, he wouldn't feel so untethered.

He wished Ben and Adam were far, far away from here, and safe.

Where were they, anyway? Were they nearby? They could be hours away. They might have given up on the game entirely. They might never come.

Sam had to make a decision.

High risk, high reward. He would push on towards the broadcast point and do his best to stop the game.

He couldn't just leave without some attempt to leave a message for Ben and Adam, though. Getting off his hoverbike, he walked a little closer to the cliff face and dragged the heel of his shoe through the soft ground, gouging out a word as best as he could: WAIT.

It didn't come out very well. There was no guarantee the boys would even see it. But he'd tried. He'd made his choice and now he needed to follow through with it. No more time for delay.

Sam climbed back aboard his hoverbike and glided forward into the tunnel.

It would be okay. No matter what happened, he knew for a fact that neither Ben nor Adam would ever sacrifice the other. They would wait here by the tunnel while Sam did what needed to be done.

They would be safe.