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MoreAdvancePraise
forReadyPlayerOne
“[An]adrenalineshotofuncutgeekdom...sweet,self-deprecatingWade,whoseuniverseisanoddmixoftherealpastandthevirtualpresent,istheperfectlovable/unlikelyhero.”
—PublishersWeekly
“Thepure,unfetteredbrainscreamofachildofthe’80s,likeadreammythirteen-year-oldselfwouldhavehadafterbingeingonPopRocksandCoke....Icouldn’tputitdown.”
—CharlesArdai,EdgarAward–winningauthorandproducerofHaven
“Puregeekheaven.ErnestCline’sherocompetesinavirtualworldwithlife-and-deathstakes—whichisonlyfitting,becausehe’sfightingtomakehisdreamsintoreality.Clineblendsadystopicfuturewithmeticulouslydetailednostalgiatocreateastorythatwillresonateintheheartofeverytruenerd.”
—ChristopherFarnsworth,authorofBloodOath
“Afantasticadventuresetinafuturisticworldwitharetroheart.OnceIstartedreading,Ididn’twanttoputitdownandIcouldn’twaittopickitbackup.”
—S.G.Browne,authorofBreathers
“Clinehassomehowmanagedtojackintothenervoussystemofsomegreatwarmcollectivegeek-dreamnostalgiaofthe’70sand’80sandusedtheprecioustouchstoneshe’srediscoveredtheretocreateanadventurethat’salmostmoreexperiencedthanread....ReadyPlayerOneletmerompthroughsomeofthebestmemoriesofmyyouth.”
—PaulMalmont,authorofTheChinatownDeathCloudPeril
“ImaginethatDungeonsandDragonsandan’80svideoarcademadehot,sweetlove,andtheirchildwasraisedinAzeroth.Ifyou’renotalreadyexperiencinganerdgasmatthethought,Idon’twanttoknowyou.”
—JohnScalzi,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofOldMan’sWar
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“ReadyPlayerOneexpertlyminesacopiousveinof1980spopculture,catapultingthereaderonalight-speedadventureinanadvancedbutbackward-lookingfuture.Ifthisbookwerealivingroom,itwouldbewood-paneled.Ifitwereshoes,itwouldbehigh-tops.Andifitwereasong,well,itwouldhavetobe‘EyeoftheTiger.’Ireally,reallylovedit.”
—DanielH.Wilson,authorofRobopocalypse
“Iwasblownawaybythisbook....ErnieClinehaspulledtheraddestofallmagictricks:He’smanagedtowriteanovelthat’satonceseriousandplayful,thatisasfuntoreadasitisharrowing.Abookofideas,apotboiler,agame-within-a-novel,aseriousscience-fictionepic,acomicpop-culturemash-up—callthisnovelwhatyouwill,butReadyPlayerOnewilldefyeverylabelyoutrytoputonit.Here,finally,isthisgeneration’sNeuromancer.”
—WillLavender,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofObedience
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Ready
Player
One
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Ready
Player
One
ErnestCline
CrownPublishers
NewYork
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Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.
Copyright©2011byDarkAllDay,Inc.
Allrightsreserved.
PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyCrownPublishers,animprintoftheCrownPublishingGroup,adivisionofRandomHouse,Inc.,NewYork.
www.crownpublishing.com
crownandtheCrowncolophonareregisteredtrademarksofRandomHouse,Inc.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataCline,Ernest.
Readyplayerone:anovel/ErnestCline.—1sted.
p.cm.
1.Regression(Civilization)—Fiction.2.Virtualreality—Fiction.3.Utopias—
Fiction.4.Puzzles—Fiction.I.Title.
PS3603.L548R432011
813'.6—dc222011015247
ISBN978-0-307-88743-6
eISBN978-0-307-88745-0
PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica
BookdesignbyRalphFowler/rlfdesign
JacketdesignbyChristopherBrand
10987654321
FirstEdition
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ForSusanandLibby
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Everyonemyagerememberswheretheywereandwhattheyweredoingwhentheyfirstheardaboutthecontest.Iwassittinginmyhideoutwatchingcartoonswhenthenewsbulletinbrokeinonmyvideofeed,announcingthatJamesHallidayhaddiedduringthenight.
I’dheardofHalliday,ofcourse.Everyonehad.HewasthevideogamedesignerresponsibleforcreatingtheOASIS,amassivelymultiplayeronlinegamethathadgraduallyevolvedintothegloballynetworkedvirtualrealitymostofhumanitynowusedonadailybasis.TheunprecedentedsuccessoftheOASIShadmadeHallidayoneofthewealthiestpeopleintheworld.
Atfirst,Icouldn’tunderstandwhythemediawasmakingsuchabigdealofthebillionaire’sdeath.Afterall,thepeopleofPlanetEarthhadotherconcerns.Theongoingenergycrisis.Catastrophicclimatechange.
Widespreadfamine,poverty,anddisease.Halfadozenwars.Youknow:
“dogsandcatslivingtogether...masshysteria!”Normally,thenewsfeedsdidn’tinterrupteveryone’sinteractivesitcomsandsoapoperasunlesssomethingreallymajorhadhappened.Liketheoutbreakofsomenewkillervirus,oranothermajorcityvanishinginamushroomcloud.
Bigstufflikethat.Asfamousashewas,Halliday’sdeathshouldhavewarranted
onlyabriefsegmentontheeveningnews,sotheunwashedmassescouldshaketheirheadsinenvywhenthenewscastersannouncedtheob-scenelylargeamountofmoneythatwouldbedoledouttotherichman’sheirs.
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Butthatwastherub.JamesHallidayhadnoheirs.
Hehaddiedasixty-seven-year-oldbachelor,withnolivingrelativesand,bymostaccounts,withoutasinglefriend.He’dspentthelastfifteenyearsofhislifeinself-imposedisolation,duringwhichtime—iftherumorsweretobebelieved—he’dgonecompletelyinsane.
Sotherealjaw-droppingnewsthatJanuarymorning,thenewsthathadeveryonefromTorontotoTokyocrappingintheircornflakes,concernedthecontentsofHalliday’slastwillandtestament,andthefateofhisvastfortune.
Hallidayhadpreparedashortvideomessage,alongwithinstructionsthatitbereleasedtotheworldmediaatthetimeofhisdeath.He’dalsoarrangedtohaveacopyofthevideoe-mailedtoeverysingleOASISuserthatsamemorning.Istillrememberhearingthefamiliarelectronicchimewhenitarrivedinmyinbox,justafewsecondsafterIsawthatfirstnewsbulletin.
HisvideomessagewasactuallyameticulouslyconstructedshortfilmtitledAnorak’sInvitation.Afamouseccentric,Hallidayhadharboredalifelongobsessionwiththe1980s,thedecadeduringwhichhe’dbeenateenager,andAnorak’sInvitationwascrammedwithobscure’80spopculturereferences,nearlyallofwhichwerelostonmethefirsttimeIviewedit.
Theentirevideowasjustoverfiveminutesinlength,andinthedaysandweeksthatfollowed,itwouldbecomethemostscrutinizedpieceoffilminhistory,surpassingeventheZapruderfilmintheamountofpainstakingframe-by-frameanalysisdevotedtoit.MyentiregenerationwouldcometoknoweverysecondofHalliday’smessagebyheart.
...
Anorak’sInvitationbeginswiththesoundoftrumpets,theopeningofanoldsongcalled“DeadMan’sParty.”
Thesongplaysoveradarkscreenforthefirstfewseconds,untilthetrumpetsarejoinedbyaguitar,andthat’swhenHallidayappears.Buthe’snotasixty-seven-year-oldman,ravagedbytimeandillness.HelooksjustashedidonthecoverofTimemagazinebackin2014,atall,thin,healthymaninhisearlyforties,withunkempthairandhistrademarkhorn-rimmedeyeglasses.He’salsowearingthesameclothingheworeintheTimecoverphoto:fadedjeansandavintageSpaceInvadersT-shirt.
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surroundedbyteenagerswhoseclothing,hairstyles,anddancemovesallindicatethatthetimeperiodisthelate1980s.*Hallidayisdancing,too—
somethingnooneeversawhimdoinreallife.Grinningmaniacally,hespinsinrapidcircles,swinginghisarmsandheadintimewiththesong,flawlesslycyclingthroughseveralsignature’80sdancemoves.ButHallidayhasnodancepartner.Heis,asthesayinggoes,dancingwithhimself.
Afewlinesoftextappearbrieflyatthelowerleft-handcornerofthescreen,listingthenameoftheband,thesong’stitle,therecordlabel,andtheyearofrelease,asifthiswereanoldmusicvideoairingonMTV:OingoBoingo,“DeadMan’sParty,”MCARecords,1985.
Whenthelyricskickin,Hallidaybeginstolip-synchalong,stillgyrating:“Alldressedupwithnowheretogo.Walkingwithadeadmanovermyshoulder.Don’trunaway,it’sonlyme....”
Heabruptlystopsdancingandmakesacuttingmotionwithhisrighthand,
silencingthemusic.Atthesamemoment,thedancersandthegymnasiumbehindhimvanish,andthescenearoundhimsuddenlychanges.
Hallidaynowstandsatthefrontofafuneralparlor,nexttoanopencasket.†Asecond,mucholderHallidayliesinsidethecasket,hisbodyemaciatedandravagedbycancer.Shinyquarterscovereachofhiseyelids.‡
TheyoungerHallidaygazesdownatthecorpseofhisolderselfwithmocksadness,thenturnstoaddresstheassembledmourners.§Hallidaysnapshisfingersandascrollappearsinhisrighthand.Heopensitwithaflourishanditunfurlstothefloor,unravelingdowntheaisleinfrontofhim.Hebreaksthefourthwall,addressingtheviewer,andbeginstoread.
“I,JamesDonovanHalliday,beingofsoundmindanddisposingmemory,doherebymake,publish,anddeclarethisinstrumenttobemylastwillandtestament,herebyrevokinganyandallwillsandcodicilsbyme
*CarefulanalysisofthisscenerevealsthatalloftheteenagersbehindHallidayareactuallyextrasfromvariousJohnHughesteenfilmswhohavebeendigitallycut-and-pastedintothevideo.
†Hissurroundingsareactuallyfromasceneinthe1989filmHeathers.Hallidayappearstohavedigitallyre-createdthefuneralparlorsetandtheninsertedhimselfintoit.
‡High-resolutionscrutinyrevealsthatbothquartersweremintedin1984.
§ThemournersareactuallyallactorsandextrasfromthesamefuneralsceneinHeathers.
WinonaRyderandChristianSlaterareclearlyvisibleintheaudience,sittingneartheback.
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atanytimeheretoforemade....”Hecontinuesreading,fasterandfaster,plowingthroughseveralmoreparagraphsoflegalese,untilhe’sspeakingsorapidlythatthewordsareunintelligible.Thenhestopsabruptly.“Forgetit,”hesays.“Evenatthatspeed,itwouldtakemeamonthtoreadthewholething.Sadtosay,Idon’thavethatkindoftime.”Hedropsthescrollanditvanishesinashowerofgolddust.“Letmejustgiveyouthehighlights.”
Thefuneralparlorvanishes,andthescenechangesonceagain.Hallidaynowstandsinfrontofanimmensebankvaultdoor.“Myentireestate,includingacontrollingshareofstockinmycompany,GregariousSimulationSystems,istobeplacedinescrowuntilsuchtimeasasingleconditionIhavesetforthinmywillismet.Thefirstindividualtomeetthatconditionwillinheritmyentirefortune,currentlyvaluedinexcessoftwohundredandfortybilliondollars.”
ThevaultdoorswingsopenandHallidaywalksinside.Theinteriorofthevaultisenormous,anditcontainsahugestackofgoldbars,roughlythesizeofalargehouse.“Here’sthedoughI’mputtingupforgrabs,”Hallidaysays,grinningbroadly.“Whatthehell.Youcan’ttakeitwithyou,right?”
Hallidayleansagainstthestackofgoldbars,andthecamerapullsintightonhisface.“Now,I’msureyou’rewondering,whatdoyouhavetodotogetyourhandsonallthismoolah?Well,holdyourhorses,kids.I’mgettingtothat....”Hepausesdramatically,hisexpressionchangingtothatofachildabouttorevealaverybigsecret.
Hallidaysnapshisfingersagainandthevaultdisappears.Inthesameinstant,HallidayshrinksandmorphsintoasmallboywearingbrowncorduroysandafadedTheMuppetShowT-shirt.*TheyoungHallidaystandsinaclutteredlivingroomwithburntorangecarpeting,wood-paneledwalls,andkitschylate-’70sdecor.A21-inchZenithtelevisionsitsnearby,withanAtari2600gameconsolehookeduptoit.
“ThiswasthefirstvideogamesystemIeverowned,”Hallidaysays,nowinachild’svoice.“AnAtari2600.IgotitforChristmasin1979.”
HeplopsdowninfrontoftheAtari,picksupajoystick,andbeginstoplay.“Myfavoritegamewasthisone,”hesays,noddingattheTVscreen,
*Hallidaynowlooksexactlyashedidinaschoolphototakenin1980,whenhewaseightyearsold.
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whereasmallsquareistravelingthroughaseriesofsimplemazes.“ItwascalledAdventure.Likemanyearlyvideogames,Adventurewasdesignedandprogrammedbyjustoneperson.Butbackthen,Atarirefusedtogiveitsprogrammerscreditfortheirwork,sothenameofagame’screatordidn’tactuallyappearanywhereonthepackaging.”OntheTVscreen,weseeHallidayuseaswordtoslayareddragon,althoughduetothegame’scrudelow-resolutiongraphics,thislooksmorelikeasquareusinganarrowtostabadeformedduck.
“SotheguywhocreatedAdventure,amannamedWarrenRobinett,decidedtohidehisnameinsidethegameitself.Hehidakeyinoneofthegame’slabyrinths.Ifyoufoundthiskey,asmallpixel-sizedgraydot,youcoulduseittoenterasecretroomwhereRobinetthadhiddenhisname.”
OntheTV,Hallidayguideshissquareprotagonistintothegame’ssecretroom,wherethewordscreatedbywarrenrobinettappearinthecenterofthescreen.
“This,”Hallidaysays,pointingtothescreenwithgenuinereverence,
“wastheveryfirstvideogameEasteregg.Robinetthiditinhisgame’scodewithouttellingasoul,andAtarimanufacturedandshippedAdventureallovertheworldwithoutknowingaboutthesecretroom.Theydidn’tfindoutabouttheEasteregg’sexistenceuntilafewmonthslater,whenkidsallovertheworldbegantodiscoverit.Iwasoneofthosekids,andfindingRobinett’sEastereggforthefirsttimewasoneofthecoolestvideogamingexperiencesofmylife.”
TheyoungHallidaydropshisjoystickandstands.Ashedoes,thelivingroomfadesaway,andthesceneshiftsagain.Hallidaynowstandsinadimcavern,wherelightfromunseentorchesflickersoffthedampwalls.
Inthesameinstant,Halliday’sappearancealsochangesonceagain,ashemorphsintohisfamousOASISavatar,Anorak—atall,robedwizardwitha
slightlymorehandsomeversionoftheadultHalliday’sface(minustheeyeglasses).Anorakisdressedinhistrademarkblackrobes,withhisavatar’semblem(alargecalligraphicletter“A”)embroideredoneachsleeve.
“BeforeIdied,”Anoraksays,speakinginamuchdeepervoice,“IcreatedmyownEasteregg,andhiditsomewhereinsidemymostpopularvideogame—theOASIS.ThefirstpersontofindmyEastereggwillinheritmyentirefortune.”
Anotherdramaticpause.
“Theeggiswellhidden.Ididn’tjustleaveitlyingunderarocksome-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd5
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where.Isupposeyoucouldsaythatit’slockedinsideasafethatisburiedinasecretroomthatlieshiddenatthecenterofamazelocatedsomewhere”—hereachesuptotaphisrighttemple—“uphere.
“Butdon’tworry.I’veleftafewclueslyingaroundtogeteveryonestarted.Andhere’sthefirstone.”Anorakmakesagrandgesturewithhisrighthand,andthreekeysappear,spinningslowlyintheairinfrontofhim.Theyappeartobemadeofcopper,jade,andclearcrystal.Asthekeyscontinuetospin,Anorakrecitesapieceofverse,andashespeakseachline,itappearsbrieflyinflamingsubtitlesacrossthebottomofscreen:
Threehiddenkeysopenthreesecretgates
Whereintheerrantwillbetestedforworthytraits
Andthosewiththeskilltosurvivethesestraits
WillreachTheEndwheretheprizeawaits
Ashefinishes,thejadeandcrystalkeysvanish,leavingonlythecopperkey,whichnowhangsonachainaroundAnorak’sneck.
ThecamerafollowsAnorakasheturnsandcontinuesfartherintothedarkcavern.Afewsecondslater,hearrivesatapairofmassivewoodendoorssetintothecavern’srockywall.Thesedoorsarebandedwithsteel,andthereareshieldsanddragonscarvedintotheirsurfaces.“Icouldn’tplaytestthisparticulargame,soIworrythatImayhavehiddenmyEastereggalittletoowell.Madeittoodifficulttoreach.I’mnotsure.Ifthat’sthecase,it’stoolatetochangeanythingnow.SoIguesswe’llsee.”
Anorakthrowsopenthedoubledoors,revealinganimmensetreasureroomfilledwithpilesofglitteringgoldcoinsandjewel-encrustedgob-lets.*Thenhestepsintotheopendoorwayandturnstofacetheviewer,stretchingouthisarmstoholdopenthegiantdoubledoors.†
*Analysisrevealsdozensofcuriousitemshiddenamongthemoundsoftreasure,mostnotably:severalearlyhomecomputers(anAppleIIe,aCommodore64,anAtari800XL,andaTRS-80ColorComputer2),dozensofvideogamecontrollersforavarietyofgamesystems,andhundredsofpolyhedraldicelikethoseusedinoldtabletoprole-playinggames.
†Afreeze-frameofthissceneappearsnearlyidenticaltoapaintingbyJeffEasleythatappearedonthecoveroftheDungeonMaster’sGuide,aDungeons&Dragonsrulebookpublishedin1983.
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“Sowithoutfurtherado,”Anorakannounces,“letthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegin!”Thenhevanishesinaflashoflight,leavingtheviewertogazethroughtheopendoorwayattheglitteringmoundsoftreasurethatlaybeyond.
Thenthescreenfadestoblack.
...
Attheendofthevideo,Hallidayincludedalinktohispersonalwebsite,which
hadchangeddrasticallyonthemorningofhisdeath.Foroveradecade,theonlythingpostedtherehadbeenashortloopinganimationthatshowedhisavatar,Anorak,sittinginamedievallibrary,hunchedoverascarredworktable,mixingpotionsandporingoverdustyspellbooks,withalargepaintingofablackdragonvisibleonthewallbehindhim.
Butnowthatanimationwasgone,andinitsplacetherewasahigh-scorelistlikethosethatusedtoappearinoldcoin-operatedvideogames.
Thelisthadtennumberedspots,andeachdisplayedtheinitialsJDH—
JamesDonovanHalliday—followedbyascoreofsixzeros.Thishigh-scorelistquicklycametobeknownas“theScoreboard.”
JustbelowtheScoreboardwasaniconthatlookedlikeasmallleather-boundbook,whichlinkedtoafreedownloadablecopyofAnorak’sAlmanac,acollectionofhundredsofHalliday’sundatedjournalentries.
TheAlmanacwasoverathousandpageslong,butitcontainedfewdetailsaboutHalliday’spersonallifeorhisday-to-dayactivities.Mostoftheentrieswerehisstream-of-consciousnessobservationsonvariousclassicvideogames,science-fictionandfantasynovels,movies,comicbooks,and
’80spopculture,mixedwithhumorousdiatribesdenouncingeverythingfromorganizedreligiontodietsoda.
TheHunt,asthecontestcametobeknown,quicklywoveitswayintoglobalculture.Likewinningthelottery,findingHalliday’sEastereggbecameapopularfantasyamongadultsandchildrenalike.Itwasagameanyonecouldplay,andatfirst,thereseemedtobenorightorwrongwaytoplayit.TheonlythingAnorak’sAlmanacseemedtoindicatewasthatafamiliaritywithHalliday’svariousobsessionswouldbeessentialtofindingtheegg.Thisledtoaglobalfascinationwith1980spopculture.Fiftyyearsafterthedecadehadended,themovies,music,games,andfashionsofthe1980swerealltherageonceagain.By2041,spikedhairandacid-washedjeanswerebackinstyle,andcoversofhit’80spopsongsbycon-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd7
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temporarybandsdominatedthemusiccharts.Peoplewhohadactuallybeenteenagersinthe1980s,allnowapproachingoldage,hadthestrangeexperienceofseeingthefadsandfashionsoftheiryouthembracedandstudiedbytheirgrandchildren.
Anewsubculturewasborn,composedofthemillionsofpeoplewhonowdevotedeveryfreemomentoftheirlivestosearchingforHalliday’segg.Atfirst,theseindividualswereknownsimplyas“egghunters,”butthiswasquicklytruncatedtothenickname“gunters.”
DuringthefirstyearoftheHunt,beingagunterwashighlyfashion-able,andnearlyeveryOASISuserclaimedtobeone.
WhenthefirstanniversaryofHalliday’sdeatharrived,thefervorsurroundingthecontestbegantodiedown.Anentireyearhadpassedandnoonehadfoundanything.Notasinglekeyorgate.PartoftheproblemwasthesheersizeoftheOASIS.Itcontainedthousandsofsimulatedworldswherethekeysmightbehidden,anditcouldtakeagunteryearstoconductathoroughsearchofanyoneofthem.
Despiteallofthe“professional”gunterswhoboastedontheirblogsthattheyweregettingclosertoabreakthrougheveryday,thetruthgraduallybecameapparent:Noonereallyevenknewexactlywhatitwastheywerelookingfor,orwheretostartlookingforit.
Anotheryearpassed.
Andanother.
Stillnothing.
Thegeneralpubliclostallinterestinthecontest.Peoplebegantoassumeitwasalljustanoutlandishhoaxperpetratedbyarichnutjob.Othersbelievedthateveniftheeggreallydidexist,noonewasevergoingtofindit.Meanwhile,theOASIScontinuedtoevolveandgrowinpopularity,protectedfromtakeoverattemptsandlegalchallengesbytheironcladtermsofHalliday’swillandthearmyofrabidlawyershehadtaskedwithadministeringhisestate.
Halliday’sEasteregggraduallymovedintotherealmofurbanlegend,andtheever-dwindlingtribeofguntersgraduallybecametheobjectofridicule.Eachyear,ontheanniversaryofHalliday’sdeath,newscastersjokinglyreportedontheircontinuedlackofprogress.Andeachyear,moregunterscalleditquits,concludingthatHallidayhadindeedmadetheeggimpossibletofind.
Andanotheryearwentby.
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Andanother.
Then,ontheeveningofFebruary11,2045,anavatar’snameappearedatthetopoftheScoreboard,forthewholeworldtosee.Afterfivelongyears,theCopperKeyhadfinallybeenfound,byaneighteen-year-oldkidlivinginatrailerparkontheoutskirtsofOklahomaCity.
Thatkidwasme.
Dozensofbooks,cartoons,movies,andminiserieshaveattemptedtotellthestoryofeverythingthathappenednext,buteverysingleoneofthemgotitwrong.SoIwanttosettherecordstraight,onceandforall.
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LevelOne
Beinghumantotallysucksmostofthetime.
Videogamesaretheonlythingthat
makelifebearable.
—Anorak’sAlmanac,Chapter91,Verses1–2
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Iwasjoltedawakebythesoundofgunfireinoneoftheneighboringstacks.Theshotswerefollowedbyafewminutesofmuffledshoutingandscreaming,thensilence.
Gunfirewasn’tuncommoninthestacks,butitstillshookmeup.IknewIprobablywouldn’tbeabletofallbackasleep,soIdecidedtokilltheremaininghoursuntildawnbybrushinguponafewcoin-opclassics.Galaga,Defender,Asteroids.ThesegameswereoutdateddigitaldinosaursthathadbecomemuseumpieceslongbeforeIwasborn.ButIwasagunter,soIdidn’tthinkofthemasquaintlow-resantiques.Tome,theywerehallowedartifacts.Pillarsofthepantheon.WhenIplayedtheclassics,Ididsowithadeterminedsortofreverence.
Iwascurledupinanoldsleepingbaginthecornerofthetrailer’stinylaundryroom,wedgedintothegapbetweenthewallandthedryer.Iwasn’twelcomeinmyaunt’sroomacrossthehall,whichwasfinebyme.
Ipreferredtocrashinthelaundryroomanyway.Itwaswarm,itaffordedmealimitedamountofprivacy,andthewirelessreceptionwasn’ttoobad.
And,asanaddedbonus,theroomsmelledlikeliquiddetergentandfabricsoftener.Therestofthetrailerreekedofcatpissandabjectpoverty.
MostofthetimeIsleptinmyhideout.Butthetemperaturehaddroppedbelowzerothepastfewnights,andasmuchasIhatedstayingatmyaunt’splace,itstillbeatfreezingtodeath.
Atotaloffifteenpeoplelivedinmyaunt’strailer.Shesleptinthesmall-estofitsthreebedrooms.TheDeppertslivedinthebedroomadjacenttoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd13
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hers,andtheMillersoccupiedthelargemasterbedroomattheendofthehall.Thereweresixofthem,andtheypaidthelargestshareoftherent.
Ourtrailerwasn’tascrowdedassomeoftheotherunitsinthestacks.Itwasadouble-wide.Plentyofroomforeverybody.
Ipulledoutmylaptopandpowerediton.Itwasabulky,heavybeast,almosttenyearsold.I’dfounditinatrashbinbehindtheabandonedstripmallacrossthehighway.I’dbeenabletocoaxitbacktolifebyreplacingitssystemmemoryandreloadingthestone-ageoperatingsystem.
Theprocessorwasslowerthanaslothbycurrentstandards,butitwasfineformyneeds.Thelaptopservedasmyportableresearchlibrary,videoarcade,andhometheatersystem.Itsharddrivewasfilledwitholdbooks,movies,TVshowepisodes,songfiles,andnearlyeveryvideogamemadeinthetwentiethcentury.
IbootedupmyemulatorandselectedRobotron:2084,oneofmyall-timefavoritegames.I’dalwaysloveditsfreneticpaceandbrutalsimplic-ity.Robotronwasallaboutinstinctandreflexes.Playingoldvideogamesneverfailedtoclearmymindandsetmeatease.IfIwasfeelingdepressedor
frustratedaboutmylotinlife,allIhadtodowastapthePlayerOnebutton,andmyworrieswouldinstantlyslipawayasmymindfocuseditselfontherelentlesspixelatedonslaughtonthescreeninfrontofme.
There,insidethegame’stwo-dimensionaluniverse,lifewassimple:It’sjustyouagainstthemachine.Movewithyourlefthand,shootwithyourright,andtrytostayaliveaslongaspossible.
IspentafewhoursblastingthroughwaveafterwaveofBrains,Spher-oids,Quarks,andHulksinmyunendingbattletoSavetheLastHumanFamily!ButeventuallymyfingersstartedtocrampupandIbegantolosemyrhythm.Whenthathappenedatthislevel,thingsdeterioratedquickly.
Iburnedthroughallofmyextralivesinamatterofminutes,andmytwoleast-favoritewordsappearedonthescreen:gameover.
Ishutdowntheemulatorandbegantobrowsethroughmyvideofiles.
Overthepastfiveyears,I’ddownloadedeverysinglemovie,TVshow,andcartoonmentionedinAnorak’sAlmanac.Istillhadn’twatchedallofthemyet,ofcourse.Thatwouldprobablytakedecades.
IselectedanepisodeofFamilyTies,an’80ssitcomaboutamiddle-classfamilylivingincentralOhio.I’ddownloadedtheshowbecauseithadbeenoneofHalliday’sfavorites,andIfiguredtherewasachancethatsomecluerelatedtotheHuntmightbehiddeninoneoftheepisodes.I’dClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd14
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becomeaddictedtotheshowimmediately,andhadnowwatchedall180
episodes,multipletimes.Ineverseemedtogettiredofthem.
Sittingaloneinthedark,watchingtheshowonmylaptop,IalwaysfoundmyselfimaginingthatIlivedinthatwarm,well-lithouse,andthatthosesmiling,
understandingpeopleweremyfamily.Thattherewasnothingsowrongintheworldthatwecouldn’tsortitoutbytheendofasinglehalf-hourepisode(ormaybeatwo-parter,ifitwassomethingreallyserious).
MyownhomelifehadneverevenremotelyresembledtheonedepictedinFamilyTies,whichwasprobablywhyIlovedtheshowsomuch.Iwastheonlychildoftwoteenagers,bothrefugeeswho’dmetinthestackswhereI’dgrownup.Idon’tremembermyfather.WhenIwasjustafewmonthsold,hewasshotdeadwhilelootingagrocerystoreduringapowerblackout.TheonlythingIreallyknewabouthimwasthathelovedcomicbooks.I’dfoundseveraloldflashdrivesinaboxofhisthings,containingcompleterunsofTheAmazingSpider-Man,TheX-Men,andGreenLantern.Mymomoncetoldmethatmydadhadgivenmeanalliterativename,WadeWatts,becausehethoughtitsoundedlikethesecretidentityofasuperhero.LikePeterParkerorClarkKent.Knowingthatmademethinkhemusthavebeenacoolguy,despitehowhe’ddied.
Mymother,Loretta,hadraisedmeonherown.We’dlivedinasmallRV
inanotherpartofthestacks.Shehadtwofull-timeOASISjobs,oneasatelemarketer,theotherasanescortinanonlinebrothel.SheusedtomakemewearearplugsatnightsoIwouldn’thearherinthenextroom,talkingdirtytotricksinothertimezones.Buttheearplugsdidn’tworkverywell,soIwouldwatcholdmoviesinstead,withthevolumeturnedwayup.
IwasintroducedtotheOASISatanearlyage,becausemymotheruseditasavirtualbabysitter.AssoonasIwasoldenoughtowearavisorandapairofhapticgloves,mymomhelpedmecreatemyfirstOASISavatar.
Thenshestuckmeinacornerandwentbacktowork,leavingmetoexploreanentirelynewworld,verydifferentfromtheoneI’dknownupuntilthen.
Fromthatmomenton,IwasmoreorlessraisedbytheOASIS’sinteractiveeducationalprograms,whichanykidcouldaccessforfree.Ispentabigchunkofmychildhoodhangingoutinavirtual-realitysimulationofSesameStreet,singingsongswithfriendlyMuppetsandplayinginteractivegamesthattaughtmehowtowalk,talk,add,subtract,read,write,andshare.OnceI’dmasteredthoseskills,itdidn’ttakemelongtodiscoverthattheOASISwasalsotheworld’sbiggestpubliclibrary,whereClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd15
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evenapennilesskidlikemehadaccesstoeverybookeverwritten,everysongeverrecorded,andeverymovie,televisionshow,videogame,andpieceofartworkevercreated.Thecollectedknowledge,art,andamuse-mentsofallhumancivilizationwerethere,waitingforme.Butgainingaccesstoallofthatinformationturnedouttobesomethingofamixedblessing.BecausethatwaswhenIfoundoutthetruth.
...
Idon’tknow,maybeyourexperiencedifferedfrommine.Forme,growingupasahumanbeingontheplanetEarthinthetwenty-firstcenturywasarealkickintheteeth.Existentiallyspeaking.
Theworstthingaboutbeingakidwasthatnoonetoldmethetruthaboutmysituation.Infact,theydidtheexactopposite.And,ofcourse,Ibelievedthem,becauseIwasjustakidandIdidn’tknowanybetter.Imean,Christ,mybrainhadn’tevengrowntofullsizeyet,sohowcouldIbeexpectedtoknowwhentheadultswerebullshittingme?
SoIswallowedallofthedarkagesnonsensetheyfedme.Sometimepassed.Igrewupalittle,andIgraduallybegantofigureoutthatprettymucheveryonehadbeenlyingtomeaboutprettymucheverythingsincethemomentIemergedfrommymother’swomb.
Thiswasanalarmingrevelation.
Itgavemetrustissueslaterinlife.
IstartedtofigureouttheuglytruthassoonasIbegantoexplorethefreeOASISlibraries.Thefactswererighttherewaitingforme,hiddeninoldbookswrittenbypeoplewhoweren’tafraidtobehonest.Artistsandscientistsandphilosophersandpoets,manyofthemlongdead.AsIreadthewordsthey’dleftbehind,Ifinallybegantogetagriponthesituation.
Mysituation.Oursituation.Whatmostpeoplereferredtoas“thehumancondition.”
Itwasnotgoodnews.
Iwishsomeonehadjusttoldmethetruthrightupfront,assoonasIwasoldenoughtounderstandit.Iwishsomeonehadjustsaid:
“Here’sthedeal,Wade.You’resomethingcalleda‘humanbeing.’That’sareallysmartkindofanimal.Likeeveryotheranimalonthisplanet,we’redescendedfromasingle-celledorganismthatlivedmillionsofyearsago.Thishappenedbyaprocesscalledevolution,andyou’lllearnmoreaboutitlater.Buttrustme,that’sreallyhowweallgothere.There’sproofofiteverywhere,buriedintherocks.Thatstoryyouheard?AbouthowClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd16
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wewereallcreatedbyasuper-powerfuldudenamedGodwholivesupinthesky?Totalbullshit.ThewholeGodthingisactuallyanancientfairytalethatpeoplehavebeentellingoneanotherforthousandsofyears.Wemadeitallup.LikeSantaClausandtheEasterBunny.
“Oh,andbytheway...there’snoSantaClausorEasterBunny.Alsobullshit.Sorry,kid.Dealwithit.
“You’reprobablywonderingwhathappenedbeforeyougothere.Anawfullotofstuff,actually.Onceweevolvedintohumans,thingsgotprettyinteresting.Wefiguredouthowtogrowfoodanddomesticateanimalssowedidn’thavetospendallofourtimehunting.Ourtribesgotmuchbigger,andwespreadacrosstheentireplanetlikeanunstoppablevirus.Then,afterfightingabunchofwarswitheachotheroverland,resources,andourmade-upgods,weeventuallygotallofourtribesorganizedintoa‘globalcivilization.’But,honestly,itwasn’tallthatorganized,orcivilized,andwecontinuedtofightalotofwarswitheachother.Butwealsofiguredouthowtodoscience,whichhelpedusdeveloptechnology.Forabunchofhairlessapes,we’veactuallymanagedtoinventsomeprettyincrediblethings.Computers.Medicine.Lasers.Microwaveovens.
Artificialhearts.Atomicbombs.Weevensentafewguystothemoonand
broughtthemback.Wealsocreatedaglobalcommunicationsnetworkthatletsusalltalktoeachother,allaroundtheworld,allthetime.Prettyimpressive,right?
“Butthat’swherethebadnewscomesin.Ourglobalcivilizationcameatahugecost.Weneededawholebunchofenergytobuildit,andwegotthatenergybyburningfossilfuels,whichcamefromdeadplantsandanimalsburieddeepintheground.Weusedupmostofthisfuelbeforeyougothere,andnowit’sprettymuchallgone.Thismeansthatwenolongerhaveenoughenergytokeepourcivilizationrunninglikeitwasbefore.Sowe’vehadtocutback.Big-time.WecallthistheGlobalEnergyCrisis,andit’sbeengoingonforawhilenow.
“Also,itturnsoutthatburningallofthosefossilfuelshadsomenastysideeffects,likeraisingthetemperatureofourplanetandscrewinguptheenvironment.Sonowthepolaricecapsaremelting,sealevelsarerising,andtheweatherisallmessedup.Plantsandanimalsaredyingoffinrecordnumbers,andlotsofpeoplearestarvingandhomeless.Andwe’restillfightingwarswitheachother,mostlyoverthefewresourceswehaveleft.
“Basically,kid,whatthisallmeansisthatlifeisalottougherthanitusedtobe,intheGoodOldDays,backbeforeyouwereborn.ThingsusedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd17
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tobeawesome,butnowthey’rekindaterrifying.Tobehonest,thefuturedoesn’tlooktoobright.Youwerebornataprettycrappytimeinhistory.Anditlookslikethingsareonlygonnagetworsefromhereonout.
Humancivilizationisin‘decline.’Somepeopleevensayit’s‘collapsing.’
“You’reprobablywonderingwhat’sgoingtohappentoyou.That’seasy.
Thesamethingisgoingtohappentoyouthathashappenedtoeveryotherhumanbeingwhohaseverlived.You’regoingtodie.Wealldie.
That’sjusthowitis.
“Whathappenswhenyoudie?Well,we’renotcompletelysure.Buttheevidenceseemstosuggestthatnothinghappens.You’rejustdead,yourbrainstopsworking,andthenyou’renotaroundtoaskannoyingquestionsanymore.Thosestoriesyouheard?Aboutgoingtoawonderfulplacecalled‘heaven’wherethereisnomorepainordeathandyouliveforeverinastateofperpetualhappiness?Alsototalbullshit.JustlikeallthatGodstuff.There’snoevidenceofaheavenandthereneverwas.Wemadethatuptoo.Wishfulthinking.Sonowyouhavetolivetherestofyourlifeknowingyou’regoingtodiesomedayanddisappearforever.
“Sorry.”
...
OK,onsecondthought,maybehonestyisn’tthebestpolicyafterall.
Maybeitisn’tagoodideatotellanewlyarrivedhumanbeingthathe’sbeenbornintoaworldofchaos,pain,andpovertyjustintimetowatcheverythingfalltopieces.Idiscoveredallofthatgraduallyoverseveralyears,anditstillmademefeellikejumpingoffabridge.
Luckily,IhadaccesstotheOASIS,whichwaslikehavinganescapehatchintoabetterreality.TheOASISkeptmesane.Itwasmyplaygroundandmypreschool,amagicalplacewhereanythingwaspossible.
TheOASISisthesettingofallmyhappiestchildhoodmemories.Whenmymomdidn’thavetowork,wewouldloginatthesametimeandplaygamesorgooninteractivestorybookadventurestogether.Sheusedtohavetoforcemetologouteverynight,becauseIneverwantedtoreturntotherealworld.Becausetherealworldsucked.
Ineverblamedmymomforthewaythingswere.Shewasavictimoffateandcruelcircumstance,likeeveryoneelse.Hergenerationhaditthehardest.She’dbeenbornintoaworldofplenty,thenhadtowatchitallslowlyvanish.Morethananything,Irememberfeelingsorryforher.SheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd18
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wasdepressedallthetime,andtakingdrugsseemedtobetheonlythingshetrulyenjoyed.Ofcourse,theywerewhateventuallykilledher.WhenIwaselevenyearsold,sheshotabadbatchofsomethingintoherarmanddiedonourrattyfold-outsofabedwhilelisteningtomusiconanoldmp3
playerI’drepairedandgiventoherthepreviousChristmas.
ThatwaswhenIhadtomoveinwithmymom’ssister,Alice.AuntAlicedidn’ttakemeinoutofkindnessorfamilialresponsibility.Shedidittogettheextrafoodvouchersfromthegovernmenteverymonth.Mostofthetime,Ihadtofindfoodonmyown.Thisusuallywasn’taproblem,becauseIhadatalentforfindingandfixingoldcomputersandbustedOASISconsoles,whichIsoldtopawnshopsortradedforfoodvouchers.Iearnedenoughtokeepfromgoinghungry,whichwasmorethanalotofmyneighborscouldsay.
Theyearaftermymomdied,Ispentalotoftimewallowinginself-pityanddespair.Itriedtolookonthebrightside,toremindmyselfthat,orphanedornot,IwasstillbetteroffthanmostofthekidsinAfrica.AndAsia.AndNorthAmerica,too.I’dalwayshadaroofovermyheadandmorethanenoughfoodtoeat.AndIhadtheOASIS.Mylifewasn’tsobad.Atleastthat’swhatIkepttellingmyself,inavainattempttostaveofftheepiclonelinessInowfelt.
ThentheHuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan.Thatwaswhatsavedme,Ithink.SuddenlyI’dfoundsomethingworthdoing.Adreamworthchasing.Forthelastfiveyears,theHunthadgivenmeagoalandpurpose.
Aquesttofulfill.Areasontogetupinthemorning.Somethingtolookforwardto.
ThemomentIbegansearchingfortheegg,thefuturenolongerseemedsobleak.
...
IwashalfwaythroughthefourthepisodeofmyFamilyTiesmini-marathonwhenthelaundryroomdoorcreakedopenandmyauntAlicewalkedin,amalnourishedharpyinahousecoat,clutchingabasketofdirtyclothes.She
lookedmorelucidthanusual,whichwasbadnews.Shewasmucheasiertodealwithwhenshewashigh.
Sheglancedoveratmewiththeusuallookofdisdainandstartedtoloadherclothesintothewasher.Thenherexpressionchangedandshepeekedaroundthedryertogetabetterlookatme.HereyeswentwideClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd19
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whenshespottedmylaptop.Iquicklycloseditandbegantoshoveitintomybackpack,butIknewitwasalreadytoolate.
“Handitover,Wade,”sheordered,reachingforthelaptop.“Icanpawnittohelppayourrent.”
“No!”Ishouted,twistingawayfromher.“Comeon,AuntAlice.Ineeditforschool.”
“Whatyouneedistoshowsomegratitude!”shebarked.“Everyoneelsearoundherehastopayrent.I’mtiredofyouleechingoffofme!”
“Youkeepallofmyfoodvouchers.Thatmorethancoversmyshareoftherent.”
“Thehellitdoes!”Shetriedagaintograbthelaptopoutofmyhands,butIrefusedtoletgoofit.Sosheturnedandstompedbacktoherroom.
Iknewwhatwascomingnext,soIquicklyenteredacommandonmylaptopthatlockeditskeyboardanderasedtheharddrive.
AuntAlicereturnedafewsecondslaterwithherboyfriend,Rick,whowasstillhalf-asleep.Rickwasperpetuallyshirtless,becausehelikedtoshowoffhisimpressivecollectionofprisontattoos.Withoutsayingaword,hewalkedoverandraisedafistatmethreateningly.Iflinchedandhandedoverthelaptop.ThenheandAuntAlicewalkedout,alreadydiscussinghowmuchthecomputermightfetchatapawnshop.
Losingthelaptopwasn’tabigdeal.Ihadtwosparesstowedinmyhideout.Buttheyweren’tnearlyasfast,andIwouldhavetoreloadallofmymediaontothemfrombackupdrives.Atotalpainintheass.Butitwasmyownfault.Iknewtheriskofbringinganythingofvaluebackhere.
Thedarkbluelightofdawnwasstartingtocreepinthroughthelaundryroomwindow.Idecideditmightbeagoodideatoleaveforschoolalittleearlytoday.
Idressedasquicklyandquietlyaspossible,pullingontheworncorduroys,baggysweater,andoversizecoatthatcomprisedmyentirewinterwardrobe.ThenIputonmybackpackandclimbedupontothewashingmachine.Afterpullingonmygloves,Islidopenthefrost-coveredwindow.ThearcticmorningairstungmycheeksasIgazedoutovertheun-evenseaoftrailerrooftops.
Myaunt’strailerwasthetopunitina“stack”twenty-twomobilehomeshigh,makingitalevelortwotallerthanthemajorityofthestacksimmediatelysurroundingit.Thetrailersonthebottomlevelrestedontheground,orontheiroriginalconcretefoundations,buttheunitsstackedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd20
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abovethemweresuspendedonareinforcedmodularscaffold,ahaphazardmetallatticeworkthathadbeenconstructedpiecemealovertheyears.
WelivedinthePortlandAvenueStacks,asprawlinghiveofdiscoloredtinshoeboxesrustingontheshoresofI-40,justwestofOklahomaCity’sdecayingskyscrapercore.Itwasacollectionofoverfivehundredindividualstacks,allconnectedtoeachotherbyamakeshiftnetworkofrecycledpipes,girders,supportbeams,andfootbridges.Thespiresofadozenancientconstructioncranes(usedtodotheactualstacking)werepositionedaroundthestacks’ever-expandingouterperimeter.
Thetoplevelor“roof”ofthestackswasblanketedwithapatchworkarrayofoldsolarpanelsthatprovidedsupplementalpowertotheunitsbelow.Abundleofhosesandcorrugatedtubingsnakedupanddownthesideofeachstack,
supplyingwatertoeachtrailerandcarryingawaysew-age(luxuriesnotavailableinsomeoftheotherstacksscatteredaroundthecity).Verylittlesunlightmadeittothebottomlevel(knownasthe
“floor”).Thedark,narrowstripsofgroundbetweenthestackswerecloggedwiththeskeletonsofabandonedcarsandtrucks,theirgastanksemptiedandtheirexitroutesblockedofflongago.
Oneofourneighbors,Mr.Miller,onceexplainedtomethattrailerparkslikeourshadoriginallyconsistedofafewdozenmobilehomesarrangedinneatrowsontheground.Butaftertheoilcrashandtheonsetoftheenergycrisis,largecitieshadbeenfloodedwithrefugeesfromsurroundingsuburbanandruralareas,resultinginamassiveurbanhousingshortage.Realestatewithinwalkingdistanceofabigcitybecamefartoovaluabletowasteonaflatplaneofmobilehomes,sosomeonehadcookedupthebrilliantideaof,asMr.Millerputit,“stackingthesumbitches,”tomaximizetheuseofgroundspace.Theideacaughtoninabigway,andtrailerparksacrossthecountryhadquicklyevolvedinto“stacks”likethisone—strangehybridsofshantytowns,squattersettlements,andrefugeecamps.Theywerenowscatteredaroundtheoutskirtsofmostmajorcities,eachoneoverflowingwithuprootedredneckslikemyparents,who—
desperateforwork,food,electricity,andreliableOASISaccess—hadfledtheirdyingsmalltownsandhadusedthelastoftheirgasoline(ortheirbeastsofburden)tohaultheirfamilies,RVs,andtrailerhomestothenearestmetropolis.
Everystackinourparkstoodatleastfifteenmobilehomeshigh(withtheoccasionalRV,shippingcontainer,Airstreamtrailer,orVWmicrobusClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd21
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mixedinforvariety).Inrecentyears,manyofthestackshadgrowntoaheightoftwentyunitsormore.Thismadealotofpeoplenervous.Stackcollapsesweren’tthatuncommon,andifthescaffoldsupportsbuckledatthewrongangle,thedominoeffectcouldbringdownfourorfiveoftheneighboringstackstoo.
Ourtrailerwasnearthenorthernedgeofthestacks,whichranuptoacrumblinghighwayoverpass.Frommyvantagepointatthelaundryroomwindow,Icouldseeathinstreamofelectricvehiclescrawlingalongthecrackedasphalt,carryinggoodsandworkersintothecity.AsIstaredoutatthegrimskyline,abrightsliverofthesunpeekedoverthehorizon.
Watchingitrise,Iperformedamentalritual:WheneverIsawthesun,IremindedmyselfthatIwaslookingatastar.Oneofoverahundredbillionstarsinourgalaxy.Agalaxythatwasjustoneofbillionsofothergalaxiesintheobservableuniverse.Thishelpedmekeepthingsinperspective.
I’dstarteddoingitafterwatchingascienceprogramfromtheearly’80scalledCosmos.
Islippedoutthewindowasquietlyaspossibleand,clutchingthebottomofthewindowframe,sliddownthecoldsurfaceofthetrailer’smetalsiding.Thesteelplatformonwhichthetrailerrestedwasonlyslightlywiderandlongerthanthetraileritself,leavingaledgeaboutafootandahalfwideallthewayaround.Icarefullyloweredmyselfuntilmyfeetrestedonthisledge,thenreacheduptoclosethewindowbehindme.IgrabbedholdofaropeI’dstrungthereatwaistleveltoserveasahand-holdandbegantosidestepalongtheledgetothecorneroftheplatform.
FromthereIwasabletodescendtheladderlikeframeofthescaffolding.
Ialmostalwaystookthisroutewhenleavingorreturningtomyaunt’strailer.Aricketymetalstaircasewasboltedtothesideofthestack,butitshookandknockedagainstthescaffolding,soIcouldn’tuseitwithoutannouncingmypresence.Badnews.Inthestacks,itwasbesttoavoidbeingheardorseen,wheneverpossible.Therewereoftendangerousanddesperatepeopleabout—thesortwhowouldrobyou,rapeyou,andthensellyourorgansontheblackmarket.
DescendingthenetworkofmetalgirdershadalwaysremindedmeofoldplatformvideogameslikeDonkeyKongorBurgerTime.I’dseizeduponthisideaafewyearsearlierwhenIcodedmyfirstAtari2600game(agunterriteofpassage,likeaJedibuildinghisfirstlightsaber).ItwasaPitfallrip-offcalledTheStackswhereyouhadtonavigatethroughaverticalmazeoftrailers,collectingjunkcomputers,snaggingfood-voucherClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd22
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power-ups,andavoidingmethaddictsandpedophilesonyourwaytoschool.Mygamewasalotmorefunthantherealthing.
AsIclimbeddown,IpausednexttotheAirstreamtrailerthreeunitsbelowours,wheremyfriendMrs.Gilmorelived.Shewasasweetoldladyinhermid-seventies,andshealwaysseemedtogetupridiculouslyearly.Ipeekedinherwindowandsawhershufflingaroundinherkitchen,makingbreakfast.Shespottedmeafterafewseconds,andhereyeslitup.
“Wade!”shesaid,crackingopenherwindow.“Goodmorning,mydearboy.”
“Goodmorning,Mrs.G,”Isaid.“IhopeIdidn’tstartleyou.”
“Notatall,”shesaid.Shepulledherrobetightagainstthedraftcominginthewindow.“It’sfreezingoutthere!Whydon’tyoucomeinandhavesomebreakfast?I’vegotsomesoybacon.Andthesepowderedeggsaren’ttoobad,ifyouputenoughsaltonthem....”
“Thanks,butIcan’tthismorning,Mrs.G.Ihavetogettoschool.”
“Allright.Raincheck,then.”Sheblewmeakissandstartedtoclosethewindow.“Trynottobreakyourneckclimbingaroundoutthere,OK,Spider-Man?”
“Willdo.Seeyalater,Mrs.G.”Iwavedgood-byetoherandcontinuedmydescent.
Mrs.Gilmorewasatotalsweetheart.SheletmecrashonhercouchwhenIneededto,althoughitwashardformetosleeptherebecauseofallhercats.Mrs.Gwassuper-religiousandspentmostofhertimeintheOASIS,sittinginthecongregationofoneofthosebigonlinemega-churches,singinghymns,listeningtosermons,andtakingvirtualtoursoftheHolyLand.IfixedherancientOASISconsolewheneveritwentonthefritz,andinreturn,sheansweredmyendlessquestionsaboutwhatithadbeenlikeforhertogrowupduringthe1980s.She
knewthecoolestbitsof’80strivia—stuffyoucouldn’tlearnfrombooksormovies.Shewasalwaysprayingformetoo.Tryingherhardesttosavemysoul.IneverhadthehearttotellherthatIthoughtorganizedreligionwasatotalcrock.Itwasapleasantfantasythatgaveherhopeandkepthergoing—whichwasexactlywhattheHuntwasforme.ToquotetheAlmanac:“Peoplewholiveinglasshousesshouldshutthefuckup.”
WhenIreachedthebottomlevel,Ijumpedoffthescaffoldanddroppedthefewremainingfeettotheground.Myrubberbootscrunchedintotheslushandfrozenmud.Itwasstillprettydarkdownhere,soItookoutmyflashlightandheadedeast,weavingmywaythroughthedarkmaze,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd23
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doingmybesttoremainunseenwhilebeingcarefultoavoidtrippingoverashoppingcart,engineblock,oroneoftheotherpiecesofjunklitteringthenarrowalleysbetweenthestacks.Irarelysawanyoneoutatthistimeofthemorning.Thecommutershuttlesranonlyafewtimesaday,sotheresidentsluckyenoughtohaveajobwouldalreadybewaitingatthebusstopbythehighway.Mostofthemworkedasdaylaborersinthegiantfac-toryfarmsthatsurroundedthecity.
Afterwalkingabouthalfamile,Ireachedagiantmoundofoldcarsandtruckspiledhaphazardlyalongthestacks’easternperimeter.Decadesago,thecraneshadclearedtheparkofasmanyabandonedvehiclesaspossible,tomakeroomforevenmorestacks,andthey’ddumpedtheminhugepileslikethisoneallaroundthesettlement’sperimeter.Manyofthemwerenearlyastallasthestacksthemselves.
Iwalkedtotheedgeofthepile,andafteraquickglancearoundtomakesureIwasn’tbeingwatchedorfollowed,Iturnedsidewaystosqueezethroughagapbetweentwocrushedcars.Fromthere,Iducked,clam-bered,andsidesteppedmywayfartherandfartherintotheramshacklemountainoftwistedmetal,untilIreachedasmallopenspaceattherearofaburiedcargovan.Onlytherearthirdofthevanwasvisible.Therestwasconcealedbytheothervehiclesstackedon
andaroundit.Twoover-turnedpickuptruckslayacrossthevan’sroofatdifferentangles,butmostoftheirweightwassupportedbythecarsstackedoneitherside,creatingakindofprotectivearchthathadpreventedthevanfrombeingcrushedbythemountainofvehiclespiledaboveit.
IpulledoutachainIkeptaroundmyneck,onwhichtherehungasinglekey.Inastrokeofluck,thiskeyhadstillbeenhangingfromthevan’signitionwhenI’dfirstdiscoveredit.Manyofthesevehicleshadbeeninworkingconditionwhentheywereabandoned.Theirownershadsimplynolongerbeenabletoaffordfuelforthem,sothey’djustparkedthemandwalkedaway.
Ipocketedmyflashlightandunlockedthevan’srearrightdoor.Itopenedaboutafootandahalf,givingmejustenoughroomtosqueezeinside.Ipulledthedoorclosedbehindmeandlockeditagain.Thevan’sreardoorshadnowindows,soIwashunchedoverintotaldarknessforasecond,untilmyfingersfoundtheoldpowerstripI’dduct-tapedtotheceiling.Iflippediton,andanolddesklampfloodedthetinyspacewithlight.
Thecrumpledgreenroofofacompactcarcoveredthecrushedopen-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd24
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ingwherethewindshieldhadbeen,butthedamagetothevan’sfrontenddidn’textendbeyondthecab.Therestoftheinteriorremainedintact.
Someonehadremovedallofthevan’sseats(probablytouseasfurniture),leavingasmall“room”aboutfourfeetwide,fourfeethigh,andninefeetlong.
Thiswasmyhideout.
I’ddiscovereditfouryearsearlier,whilesearchingfordiscardedcomputerparts.WhenIfirstopenedthedoorandgazedintothevan’sdarkenedinterior,IknewrightawaythatI’dfoundsomethingofimmea-surablevalue:privacy.Thiswasaplacenooneelseknewabout,whereIwouldn’thavetoworryaboutgettinghassledorslappedaroundbymyauntorwhateverlosershewascurrently
dating.Icouldkeepmythingsherewithoutworryingthey’dbestolen.And,mostimportant,itwasaplacewhereIcouldaccesstheOASISinpeace.
Thevanwasmyrefuge.MyBatcave.MyFortressofSolitude.ItwaswhereIattendedschool,didmyhomework,readbooks,watchedmovies,andplayedvideogames.ItwasalsowhereIconductedmyongoingquesttofindHalliday’sEasteregg.
I’dcoveredthewalls,floor,andceilingwithStyrofoameggcartonsandpiecesofcarpetinginanefforttosoundproofthevanasmuchaspossible.
Severalcardboardboxesofbustedlaptopsandcomputerpartssatinthecorner,nexttoarackofoldcarbatteriesandamodifiedexercisebikeI’driggedupasarecharger.Theonlyfurniturewasafoldinglawnchair.
Idroppedmybackpack,shruggedoffmycoat,andhoppedontheexercisebike.ChargingthebatterieswasusuallytheonlyphysicalexerciseIgoteachday.Ipedaleduntilthemetersaidthebatterieshadafullcharge,thensatdowninmychairandswitchedonthesmallelectricheaterIkeptbesideit.Ipulledoffmyglovesandrubbedmyhandsinfrontofthefila-mentsastheybegantoglowbrightorange.Icouldn’tleavetheheateronforverylong,oritwoulddrainthebatteries.
Iopenedtherat-proofmetalboxwhereIkeptmyfoodcacheandtookoutsomebottledwaterandapacketofpowderedmilk.Imixedthesetogetherinabowl,thendumpedinagenerousservingofFruitRockscereal.
OnceI’dwolfeditdown,IretrievedanoldplasticStarTreklunchboxIkepthiddenunderthevan’scrusheddashboard.Insideweremyschool-issuedOASISconsole,hapticgloves,andvisor.Theseitemswere,byfar,themostvaluablethingsIowned.Fartoovaluabletocarryaroundwithme.
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Ipulledonmyelastichapticglovesandflexedmyfingerstomakesurenoneofthejointswassticking.ThenIgrabbedmyOASISconsole,aflatblackrectangleaboutthesizeofapaperbackbook.Ithadawirelessnetworkantennabuiltintoit,butthereceptioninsidethevanwasforshit,sinceitwasburiedunderahugemoundofdensemetal.SoI’driggedupanexternalantennaandmounteditonthehoodofacaratthetopofthejunkpile.TheantennacablesnakedupthroughaholeI’dpunchedinthevan’sceiling.Ipluggeditintoaportonthesideoftheconsole,thenslippedonmyvisor.Itfitsnuglyaroundmyeyeslikeapairofswimmer’sgoggles,blockingoutallexternallight.Smallearbudsextendedfromthevisor’stemplesandautomaticallypluggedthemselvesintomyears.Thevisoralsohousedtwobuilt-instereovoicemicrophonestopickupeverythingIsaid.
Ipoweredontheconsoleandinitiatedthelog-insequence.Isawabriefflashofredasthevisorscannedmyretinas.ThenIclearedmythroatandsaidmylog-inpassphrase,beingcarefultoenunciate:“YouhavebeenrecruitedbytheStarLeaguetodefendtheFrontieragainstXurandtheKo-DanArmada.”
Mypassphrasewasalsoverified,alongwithmyvoicepattern,andthenIwasloggedin.Thefollowingtextappeared,superimposedinthecenterofmyvirtualdisplay:
Identityverificationsuccessful.
WelcometotheOASIS,Parzival!
LoginCompleted:07:53:21OST–2.10.2045
Asthetextfadedaway,itwasreplacedbyashortmessage,justthreewordslong.Thismessagehadbeenembeddedinthelog-insequencebyJamesHallidayhimself,whenhe’dfirstprogrammedtheOASIS,asanhomagetothesimulation’sdirectancestors,thecoin-operatedvideogamesofhisyouth.ThesethreewordswerealwaysthelastthinganOASIS
usersawbeforeleavingtherealworldandenteringthevirtualone:READYPLAYERONE
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Myavatarmaterializedinfrontofmylockeronthesecondfloorofmyhighschool—theexactspotwhereI’dbeenstandingwhenI’dloggedoutthenightbefore.
Iglancedupanddownthehallway.Myvirtualsurroundingslookedalmost(butnotquite)real.EverythinginsidetheOASISwasbeautifullyrenderedinthreedimensions.Unlessyoupulledfocusandstoppedtoexamineyoursurroundingsmoreclosely,itwaseasytoforgetthateverythingyouwereseeingwascomputer-generated.Andthatwaswithmycrappyschool-issuedOASISconsole.I’dheardthatifyouaccessedthesimulationwithanewstate-of-the-artimmersionrig,itwasalmostimpossibletotelltheOASISfromreality.
Itouchedmylockerdooranditpoppedopenwithasoftmetallicclick.
Theinsidewassparselydecorated.ApictureofPrincessLeiaposingwithablasterpistol.AgroupphotoofthemembersofMontyPythonintheirHolyGrailcostumes.JamesHalliday’sTimemagazinecover.Ireachedupandtappedthestackoftextbooksonthelocker’stopshelfandtheyvanished,thenreappearedinmyavatar’siteminventory.
Asidefrommytextbooks,myavatarhadonlyafewmeagerpossessions:aflashlight,anironshortsword,asmallbronzeshield,andasuitofbandedleatherarmor.Theseitemswereallnonmagicalandoflowquality,buttheywerethebestIcouldafford.ItemsintheOASIShadjustasmuchvalueasthingsintherealworld(sometimesmore),andyoucouldn’tpayforthemwithfoodvouchers.TheOASIScreditwasthecoinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd27
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oftherealm,andinthesedarktimes,itwasalsooneoftheworld’smoststablecurrencies,valuedhigherthanthedollar,pound,euro,oryen.
Asmallmirrorwasmountedinsidemylockerdoor,andIcaughtaglimpseofmyvirtualselfasIclosedit.I’ddesignedmyavatar’sfaceandbodytolook,moreorless,likemyown.Myavatarhadaslightlysmallernosethanme,andhewastaller.Andthinner.Andmoremuscular.Andhedidn’thaveanyteenageacne.Butasidefromtheseminordetails,welookedmoreorlessidentical.Theschool’sstrictlyenforceddresscoderequiredthatallstudentavatarsbehuman,andofthesamegenderandageasthestudent.Nogianttwo-headedhermaphroditedemonunicornavatarswereallowed.Notonschoolgrounds,anyway.
YoucouldgiveyourOASISavataranynameyouliked,aslongasitwasunique.Meaningyouhadtopickanamethathadn’talreadybeentakenbysomeoneelse.Youravatar’snamewasalsoyoure-mailaddressandchatID,soyouwantedittobecoolandeasytoremember.Celebritieshadbeenknowntopayhugesumsofmoneytobuyanavatarnametheywantedfromacyber-squatterwhohadalreadyreservedit.
WhenI’dfirstcreatedmyOASISaccount,I’dnamedmyavatarWade_
the_Great.Afterthat,Ikeptchangingiteveryfewmonths,usuallytosomethingequallyridiculous.Butmyavatarhadnowhadthesamenameforoverfiveyears.OnthedaytheHuntbegan,thedayI’ddecidedtobecomeagunter,I’drenamedmyavatarParzival,aftertheknightofArthurianlegendwhohadfoundtheHolyGrail.Theothermorecommonspellingsofthatknight’sname,PercevalandPercival,hadalreadybeentakenbyotherusers.ButIpreferredthenameParzival,anyway.Ithoughtithadaniceringtoit.
Peoplerarelyusedtheirrealnamesonline.AnonymitywasoneofthemajorperksoftheOASIS.Insidethesimulation,nooneknewwhoyoureallywere,unlessyouwantedthemto.MuchoftheOASIS’spopularityandculturewerebuiltaroundthisfact.Yourrealname,fingerprints,andretinalpatternswerestoredinyourOASISaccount,butGregariousSimulationSystemskeptthatinformationencryptedandconfidential.
EvenGSS’sownemployeescouldn’tlookupanavatar’strueidentity.BackwhenHallidaywasstillrunningthecompany,GSShadwontherighttokeepeveryOASISuser’sidentityprivateinalandmarkSupremeCourtruling.
WhenI’dfirstenrolledintheOASISpublicschoolsystem,Iwasre-
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quiredtogivethemmyrealname,avatarname,mailingaddress,andSocialSecuritynumber.Thatinformationwasstoredinmystudentprofile,butonlymyprincipalhadaccesstothat.NoneofmyteachersorfellowstudentsknewwhoIreallywas,andviceversa.
Studentsweren’tallowedtousetheiravatarnameswhiletheywereatschool.Thiswastopreventteachersfromhavingtosayridiculousthingslike“Pimp_Grease,pleasepayattention!”or“BigWang69,wouldyoustandupandgiveusyourbookreport?”Instead,studentswererequiredtousetheirrealfirstnames,followedbyanumber,todifferentiatethemfromotherstudentswiththesamename.WhenIenrolled,therewerealreadytwootherstudentsatmyschoolwiththefirstnameWade,soI’dbeenassignedthestudentIDofWade3.Thatnamefloatedabovemyavatar’sheadwheneverIwasonschoolgrounds.
Theschoolbellrangandawarningflashedinthecornerofmydisplay,informingmethatIhadfortyminutesuntilthestartoffirstperiod.Ibegantowalkmyavatardownthehall,usingaseriesofsubtlehandmotionstocontrolitsmovementsandactions.Icouldalsousevoicecommandstomovearound,ifmyhandswereotherwiseoccupied.
IstrolledinthedirectionofmyWorldHistoryclassroom,smilingandwavingtothefamiliarfacesIpassed.IwasgoingtomissthisplacewhenIgraduatedinafewmonths.Iwasn’tlookingforwardtoleavingschool.
Ididn’thavethemoneytoattendcollege,notevenoneintheOASIS,andmygradesweren’tgoodenoughforascholarship.Myonlyplanaftergraduationwastobecomeafull-timegunter.Ididn’thavemuchchoice.
Winningthecontestwasmyonechanceofescapingthestacks.UnlessIwantedtosignafive-yearindenturementcontractwithsomecorporation,andthatwasaboutasappealingtomeasrollingaroundinbrokenglassinmybirthdaysuit.
AsIcontinueddownthehallway,otherstudentsbegantomaterializeinfrontoftheirlockers,ghostlyapparitionsthatrapidlysolidified.Thesoundofchatteringteenagersbegantoechoupanddownthecorridor.
Beforelong,Iheardaninsulthurledinmydirection.
“Hey,hey!Ifitisn’tWadeThree!”Iheardavoiceshout.IturnedandsawTodd13,anobnoxiousavatarIrecognizedfrommyAlgebraIIclass.
Hewasstandingwithseveralofhisfriends.“Greatoutfit,slick,”hesaid.
“Wheredidyousnagthesweetthreads?”
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defaultskinsyoucouldselectwhenyoucreatedyouraccount.LikehisCro-Magnonfriends,Todd13woreanexpensivedesignerskin,probablypurchasedinsomeoffworldmall.
“Yourmomboughtthemforme,”Iretortedwithoutbreakingmystride.
“TellherIsaidthanks,thenexttimeyoustopathometobreast-feedandpickupyourallowance.”Childish,Iknow.Butvirtualornot,thiswasstillhighschool—themorechildishaninsult,themoreeffectiveitwas.
Myjabelicitedlaughterfromafewofhisfriendsandtheotherstudentsstandingnearby.Todd13scowledandhisfaceactuallyturnedred—asignthathehadn’tbotheredtoturnoffhisaccount’sreal-timeemotionfeature,whichmadeyouravatarmirroryourfacialexpressionsandbodylanguage.Hewasabouttoreply,butImutedhimfirst,soIdidn’thearwhathesaid.Ijustsmiledandcontinuedonmyway.
Theabilitytomutemypeerswasoneofmyfavoritethingsaboutattending
schoolonline,andItookadvantageofitalmostdaily.Thebestthingaboutitwasthattheycouldseethatyou’dmutedthem,andtheycouldn’tdoadamnthingaboutit.Therewasneveranyfightingonschoolgrounds.Thesimulationsimplydidn’tallowit.TheentireplanetofLuduswasano-PvPzone,meaningthatnoplayer-versus-playercombatwaspermitted.Atthisschool,theonlyrealweaponswerewords,soI’dbecomeskilledatwieldingthem.
...
I’dattendedschoolintherealworldupuntilthesixthgrade.Ithadn’tbeenaverypleasantexperience.Iwasapainfullyshy,awkwardkid,withlowself-esteemandalmostnosocialskills—asideeffectofspendingmostofmychildhoodinsidetheOASIS.Online,Ididn’thaveaproblemtalkingtopeopleormakingfriends.Butintherealworld,interactingwithotherpeople—especiallykidsmyownage—mademeanervouswreck.Ineverknewhowtoactorwhattosay,andwhenIdidworkupthecouragetospeak,Ialwaysseemedtosaythewrongthing.
Myappearancewaspartoftheproblem.Iwasoverweight,andhadbeenforaslongasIcouldremember.Mybankruptdietofgovernment-subsidizedsugar-and-starch-ladenfoodwasacontributingfactor,butIwasalsoanOASISaddict,sotheonlyexerciseIusuallygotbackthenwasrunningawayfrombulliesbeforeandafterschool.Tomakemattersworse,mylimitedwardrobeconsistedentirelyofill-fittingclothesfromClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd30
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thriftstoresanddonationbins—thesocialequivalentofhavingabull’s-eyepaintedonmyforehead.
Evenso,Itriedmybesttofitin.Yearafteryear,myeyeswouldscanthelunchroomlikeaT-1000,searchingforacliquethatmightacceptme.Buteventheotheroutcastswantednothingtodowithme.Iwastooweird,evenfortheweirdos.Andgirls?Talkingtogirlswasoutofthequestion.
Tome,theywerelikesomeexoticalienspecies,bothbeautifulandterrifying.
WheneverIgotnearoneofthem,Iinvariablybrokeoutinacoldsweatandlosttheabilitytospeakincompletesentences.
Forme,schoolhadbeenaDarwinianexercise.Adailygauntletofridicule,abuse,andisolation.BythetimeIenteredsixthgrade,IwasbeginningtowonderifI’dbeabletomaintainmysanityuntilgraduation,stillsixlongyearsaway.
Then,onegloriousday,ourprincipalannouncedthatanystudentwithapassinggrade-pointaveragecouldapplyforatransfertothenewOASIS
publicschoolsystem.Therealpublicschoolsystem,theonerunbythegovernment,hadbeenanunderfunded,overcrowdedtrainwreckfordecades.Andnowtheconditionsatmanyschoolshadgottensoterriblethateverykidwithhalfabrainwasbeingencouragedtostayathomeandattendschoolonline.Inearlybrokemynecksprintingtotheschoolofficetosubmitmyapplication.Itwasaccepted,andItransferredtoOASISPublicSchool#1873thefollowingsemester.
Priortomytransfer,myOASISavatarhadneverleftIncipio,theplanetatthecenterofSectorOnewherenewavatarswerespawnedatthetimeoftheircreation.Therewasn’tmuchtodoonIncipioexceptchatwithothernoobsorshopinoneofthegiantvirtualmallsthatcoveredtheplanet.Ifyouwantedtogosomewheremoreinteresting,youhadtopayateleportationfaretogetthere,andthatcostmoney,somethingIdidn’thave.SomyavatarwasstrandedonIncipio.Thatis,untilmynewschoole-mailedmeateleportationvouchertocoverthecostofmyavatar’stransporttoLudus,theplanetwherealloftheOASISpublicschoolswerelocated.
TherewerehundredsofschoolcampuseshereonLudus,spreadoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.Theschoolswereallidentical,becausethesameconstructioncodewascopiedandpastedintoadifferentlocationwheneveranewschoolwasneeded.Andsincethebuildingswerejustpiecesofsoftware,theirdesignwasn’tlimitedbymonetaryconstraints,orevenbythelawsofphysics.Soeveryschoolwasagrandpalaceoflearning,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd31
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withpolishedmarblehallways,cathedral-likeclassrooms,zero-ggymnasiums,andvirtuallibrariescontainingevery(schoolboard–approved)bookeverwritten.
OnmyfirstdayatOPS#1873,IthoughtI’ddiedandgonetoheaven.
Now,insteadofrunningagauntletofbulliesanddrugaddictsonmywalktoschooleachmorning,Iwentstraighttomyhideoutandstayedthereallday.Bestofall,intheOASIS,noonecouldtellthatIwasfat,thatIhadacne,orthatIworethesameshabbyclotheseveryweek.Bulliescouldn’tpeltmewithspitballs,givemeatomicwedgies,orpummelmebythebikerackafterschool.Noonecouldeventouchme.Inhere,Iwassafe.
...
WhenIarrivedinmyWorldHistoryclassroom,severalstudentswerealreadyseatedattheirdesks.Theiravatarsallsatmotionless,withtheireyesclosed.Thiswasasignalthattheywere“engaged,”meaningtheywerecurrentlyonphonecalls,browsingtheWeb,orloggedintochatrooms.ItwaspoorOASISetiquettetotrytotalktoanengagedavatar.
Theyusuallyjustignoredyou,andyou’dgetanautomatedmessagetellingyoutopissoff.
ItookaseatatmydeskandtappedtheEngageiconattheedgeofmydisplay.Myownavatar’seyesslidshut,butIcouldstillseemysurroundings.Itappedanothericon,andalargetwo-dimensionalWebbrowserwindowappeared,suspendedinspacedirectlyinfrontofme.Windowslikethisonewerevisibletoonlymyavatar,sonoonecouldreadovermyshoulder(unlessIselectedtheoptiontoallowit).
MyhomepagewassettotheHatchery,oneofthemorepopularguntermessageforums.TheHatchery’ssiteinterfacewasdesignedtolookandoperatelikeanoldpre-Internetdial-upbulletinboardsystem,completewiththescreechofa300-baudmodemduringthelog-insequence.Verycool.Ispentafewminutesscanningthemostrecentmessagethreads,takinginthelatestgunternewsandrumors.Irarelypostedanythingtotheboards,eventhoughImadesuretocheckthemeveryday.Ididn’tseemuchofinterestthismorning.Theusualgunterclan
flamewars.Ongoingargumentsaboutthe“correct”interpretationofsomecrypticpassageinAnorak’sAlmanac.High-levelavatarsbraggingaboutsomenewmagicitemorartifactthey’dobtained.Thiscraphadbeengoingonforyearsnow.Intheabsenceofanyrealprogress,guntersubculturehadbecomemiredinbravado,bullshit,andpointlessinfighting.Itwassad,really.
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MyfavoritemessagethreadswerethosedevotedtobashingtheSixers.
“Sixers”wasthederogatorynicknameguntershadgiventoemployeesofInnovativeOnlineIndustries.IOI(pronouncedeye-oh-eye)wasaglobalcommunicationsconglomerateandtheworld’slargestInternetserviceprovider.AlargeportionofIOI’sbusinesscenteredaroundprovidingaccesstotheOASISandonsellinggoodsandservicesinsideit.Forthisreason,IOIhadattemptedseveralhostiletakeoversofGregariousSimulationSystems,allofwhichhadfailed.NowtheyweretryingtoseizecontrolofGSSbyexploitingaloopholeinHalliday’swill.
IOIhadcreatedanewdepartmentwithinthecompanythattheycalledtheir“OologyDivision.”(“Oology”wasoriginallydefinedas“thescienceofstudyingbirds’eggs,”butinrecentyearsithadtakenonasecondmeaning:the“science”ofsearchingforHalliday’sEasteregg.)IOI’sOologyDivisionhadbutonepurpose:towinHalliday’scontestandseizecontrolofhisfortune,hiscompany,andtheOASISitself.
Likemostgunters,IwashorrifiedatthethoughtofIOItakingcontroloftheOASIS.Thecompany’sPRmachinehadmadeitsintentionscrystalclear.IOIbelievedthatHallidayneverproperlymonetizedhiscreation,andtheywantedtoremedythat.Theywouldstartchargingamonthlyfeeforaccesstothesimulation.Theywouldplasteradvertisementsoneveryvisiblesurface.Useranonymityandfreespeechwouldbecomethingsofthepast.ThemomentIOItookitover,theOASISwouldceasetobetheopen-sourcevirtualutopiaI’dgrownupin.Itwouldbecomeacorporate-rundystopia,anoverpricedtheme
parkforwealthyelitists.
IOIrequireditsegghunters,whichitreferredtoas“oologists,”tousetheiremployeenumbersastheirOASISavatarnames.Thesenumberswereallsixdigitsinlength,andtheyalsobeganwiththenumeral“6,”soeveryonebegancallingthemtheSixers.Thesedays,mostguntersreferredtothemas“theSux0rz.”(Becausetheysucked.)TobecomeaSixer,youhadtosignacontractstipulating,amongotherthings,thatifyoufoundHalliday’segg,theprizewouldbecomethesolepropertyofyouremployer.Inreturn,IOIgaveyouabimonthlypaycheck,food,lodging,health-carebenefits,andaretirementplan.Thecompanyalsoprovidedyouravatarwithhigh-endarmor,vehicles,andweapons,andcoveredallofyourteleportationfares.JoiningtheSixerswasalotlikejoiningthemilitary.
Sixersweren’thardtospot,becausetheyalllookedidentical.Theywereallrequiredtousethesamehulkingmaleavatar(regardlessoftheopera-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd33
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tor’struegender),withclose-croppeddarkhairandfacialfeaturesleftatthesystemdefaultsettings.Andtheyallworethesamenavyblueuniform.Theonlywaytotellthesecorporatedronesapartwasbycheckingthesix-digitemployeenumberstampedontheirrightbreast,justbeneaththeIOIcorporatelogo.
Likemostgunters,IloathedtheSixersandwasdisgustedbytheirveryexistence.Byhiringanarmyofcontractegghunters,IOIwaspervertingtheentirespiritofthecontest.Ofcourse,itcouldbearguedthatallthegunterswhohadjoinedclansweredoingthesamething.Therewerenowhundredsofgunterclans,somewiththousandsofmembers,allworkingtogethertofindtheegg.Eachclanwasboundbyanironcladlegalagreementstatingthatifoneclanmemberwonthecontest,allmemberswouldsharetheprize.Soloslikemedidn’tcaremuchfortheclans,either,butwestillrespectedthemasfellowgunters—unliketheSixers,whosegoalwastohandtheOASISovertoanevilmultinationalconglomerateintentonruiningit.
MygenerationhadneverknownaworldwithouttheOASIS.Tous,itwasmuchmorethanagameoranentertainmentplatform.Ithadbeenanintegralpartofourlivesforasfarbackaswecouldremember.We’dbeenbornintoanuglyworld,andtheOASISwasouronehappyrefuge.ThethoughtofthesimulationbeingprivatizedandhomogenizedbyIOIhorrifiedusinawaythatthosebornbeforeitsintroductionfounddifficulttounderstand.Forus,itwaslikesomeonethreateningtotakeawaythesun,orchargeafeetolookupatthesky.
TheSixersgaveguntersacommonenemy,andSixerbashingwasafavoritepastimeinourforumsandchatrooms.Alotofhigh-levelguntershadastrictpolicyofkilling(ortryingtokill)everySixerwhocrossedtheirpath.SeveralwebsitesweredevotedtotrackingSixeractivitiesandmovements,andsomeguntersspentmoretimehuntingtheSixersthantheydidsearchingfortheegg.Thebiggerclansactuallyheldayearlycompetitioncalled“Eighty-SixtheSux0rz,”withaprizefortheclanwhomanagedtokillthelargestnumberofthem.
Aftercheckingafewothergunterforums,Itappedabookmarkiconforoneofmyfavoritewebsites,Arty’sMissives,theblogofafemalegunternamedArt3mis(pronounced“Artemis”).I’ddiscovereditaboutthreeyearsagoandhadbeenaloyalreadereversince.ShepostedthesegreatramblingessaysabouthersearchforHalliday’segg,whichshecalledClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd34
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a“maddeningMacGuffinhunt.”Shewrotewithanendearing,intelligentvoice,andherentrieswerefilledwithself-deprecatinghumorandwitty,sardonicasides.Inadditiontopostingher(oftenhysterical)interpretationsofpassagesintheAlmanac,shealsolinkedtothebooks,movies,TVshows,andmusicshewascurrentlystudyingaspartofherHallidayresearch.Iassumedthatallofthesepostswerefilledwithmisdirectionandmisinformation,buttheywerestillhighlyentertaining.
ItprobablygoeswithoutsayingthatIhadamassivecyber-crushonArt3mis.
Sheoccasionallypostedscreenshotsofherraven-hairedavatar,andIsometimes(always)savedthemtoafolderonmyharddrive.Heravatarhadaprettyface,butitwasn’tunnaturallyperfect.IntheOASIS,yougotusedtoseeingfreakishlybeautifulfacesoneveryone.ButArt3mis’sfeaturesdidn’tlookasthoughthey’dbeenselectedfromabeautydrop-downmenuonsomeavatarcreationtemplate.Herfacehadthedistinctivelookofarealperson’s,asifhertruefeatureshadbeenscannedinandmappedontoheravatar.Bighazeleyes,roundedcheekbones,apointychin,andaperpetualsmirk.Ifoundherunbearablyattractive.
Art3mis’sbodywasalsosomewhatunusual.IntheOASIS,youusuallysawoneoftwobodyshapesonfemaleavatars:theabsurdlythinyetwildlypopularsupermodelframe,orthetop-heavy,wasp-waistedpornstarletphysique(whichlookedevenlessnaturalintheOASISthanitdidintherealworld).ButArt3mis’sframewasshortandRubenesque.Allcurves.
IknewthecrushIhadonArt3miswasbothsillyandill-advised.WhatdidIreallyknowabouther?She’dneverrevealedhertrueidentity,ofcourse.Orherageorlocationintherealworld.Therewasnotellingwhatshereallylookedlike.Shecouldbefifteenorfifty.Alotofguntersevenquestionedwhethershewasreallyfemale,butIwasn’toneofthem.ProbablybecauseIcouldn’tbeartheideathatthegirlwithwhomIwasvirtuallysmittenmightactuallybesomemiddle-ageddudenamedChuck,withbackhairandmale-patternbaldness.
IntheyearssinceI’dfirststartedreadingArty’sMissives,ithadbecomeoneofthemostpopularblogsontheInternet,nowloggingseveralmillionhitsaday.AndArt3miswasnowsomethingofacelebrity,atleastinguntercircles.Butfamehadn’tgonetoherhead.Herwritingwasstillasfunnyandself-deprecatingasever.Hernewestblogpostwastitled
“TheJohnHughesBlues,”anditwasanin-depthtreatiseonhersixfavor-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd35
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iteJohnHughesteenmovies,whichshedividedintotwoseparatetrilogies:The
“DorkyGirlFantasies”trilogy(SixteenCandles,PrettyinPink,andSomeKindofWonderful)andthe“DorkyBoyFantasies”trilogy(TheBreakfastClub,WeirdScience,andFerrisBueller’sDayOff).
JustasI’dfinishedreadingit,aninstantmessagewindowpoppeduponmydisplay.Itwasmybestfriend,Aech.(OK,ifyouwanttosplithairs,hewasmyonlyfriend,notcountingMrs.Gilmore.)Aech:
Topo’themorning,amigo.
Parzival:Hola,compadre.
Aech:
Whatareyouupto?
Parzival:Justsurfingtheturf.You?
Aech:
GottheBasementonline.Comeandhangoutbeforeschool,fool.
Parzival:Sweet!I’lbethereinasec.
IclosedtheIMwindowandcheckedthetime.Istillhadabouthalfanhouruntilclassstarted.Igrinnedandtappedasmalldooriconattheedgeofmydisplay,thenselectedAech’schatroomfrommylistoffavorites.
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ThesystemverifiedthatIwasonthechatroom’saccesslistandallowedmetoenter.Myviewoftheclassroomshrankfromthelimitsofmyperipheralvisiontoasmallthumbnailwindowinthelowerrightofmydisplay,allowingmetomonitorwhatwasinfrontofmyavatar.
TherestofmyfieldofvisionwasnowfilledwiththeinteriorofAech’schatroom.Myavatarappearedjustinsidethe“entrance,”adooratthetopofacarpetedstaircase.Thedoordidn’tleadanywhere.Itdidn’tevenopen.ThiswasbecausetheBasementanditscontentsdidn’texistasapartoftheOASIS.Chatroomswerestand-alonesimulations—temporaryvirtualspacesthatavatarscouldaccessfromanywhereinOASIS.Myavatarwasn’tactually“in”thechatroom.Itonlyappearedthatway.Wade3/
ParzivalwasstillsittinginmyWorldHistoryclassroomwithhiseyesclosed.Loggingintoachatroomwasalittlelikebeingintwoplacesatonce.
AechhadnamedhischatroomtheBasement.He’dprogrammedittolooklikealargesuburbanrecroom,circathelate1980s.Oldmovieandcomicbookposterscoveredthewood-paneledwalls.AvintageRCAtelevisionstoodinthecenteroftheroom,hookeduptoaBetamaxVCR,aLaserDiscplayer,andseveralvintagevideogameconsoles.Bookshelveslinedthefarwall,filledwithrole-playinggamesupplementsandbackissuesofDragonmagazine.
Hostingachatroomthislargewasn’tcheap,butAechcouldaffordit.
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afterschoolandontheweekends.Aechwasoneofthehighest-rankedcombatantsintheOASIS,inboththeDeathmatchandCapturetheFlagleagues.HewasevenmorefamousthanArt3mis.
Overthepastfewyears,theBasementhadbecomeahighlyexclusivehangoutforelitegunters.Aechgrantedaccessonlytopeoplehedeemedworthy,sobeinginvitedtohangoutintheBasementwasabighonor,especiallyforathird-levelnobodylikeme.
AsIdescendedthestaircase,Isawafewdozenotherguntersmillingaround,withavatarsthatvariedwildlyinappearance.Therewerehumans,cyborgs,
demons,darkelves,Vulcans,andvampires.Mostofthemweregatheredaroundtherowofoldarcadegamesagainstthewall.Afewothersstoodbytheancientstereo(currentlyblasting“TheWildBoys”
byDuranDuran),browsingthroughAech’sgiantrackofvintagecassettetapes.
Aechhimselfwassprawledononeofthechatroom’sthreecouches,whichwerearrayedinaU-shapeinfrontoftheTV.Aech’savatarwasatall,broad-shoulderedCaucasianmalewithdarkhairandbrowneyes.I’daskedhimonceifhelookedanythinglikehisavatarinreallife,andhe’djokinglyreplied,“Yes.Butinreallife,I’mevenmorehandsome.”
AsIwalkedover,heglancedupfromtheIntellivisiongamehewasplaying.HisdistinctiveCheshiregrinstretchedfromeartoear.“Z!”heshouted.“Whatisup,amigo?”HestretchedouthisrighthandandgavemefiveasIdroppedontothecouchoppositehim.Aechhadstartedcallingme“Z”shortlyafterImethim.Helikedtogivepeoplesingle-letternicknames.Aechpronouncedhisownavatar’snamejustliketheletter
“H.”
“Whatup,Humperdinck?”Isaid.Thiswasagameweplayed.IalwayscalledhimbysomerandomHname,likeHarry,Hubert,Henry,orHogan.Iwasmakingguessesathisrealfirstname,which,he’donceconfidedtome,beganwiththeletter“H.”
I’dknownAechforalittleoverthreeyears.HewasalsoastudentonLudus,asenioratOPS#1172,whichwasontheoppositesideoftheplanetfrommyschool.We’dmetoneweekendinapublicgunterchatroomandhititoffimmediately,becausewesharedallofthesameinterests.Whichistosayoneinterest:atotal,all-consumingobsessionwithHallidayandhisEasteregg.Afewminutesintoourfirstconversation,IknewAechwastherealdeal,anelitegunterwithsomeseriousmentalkungfu.HehadClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd38
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his’80striviadowncold,andnotjustthecanonstuff,either.HewasatrueHallidayscholar.Andhe’dapparentlyseenthesamequalitiesinme,becausehe’dgivenmehiscontactcardandinvitedmetohangoutintheBasementwheneverIliked.He’dbeenmyclosestfriendeversince.
Overtheyears,afriendlyrivalryhadgraduallydevelopedbetweenus.
Wedidalotoftrash-talkingaboutwhichoneofuswouldgethisnameupontheScoreboardfirst.Wewereconstantlytryingtoout-geekeachotherwithourknowledgeofobscureguntertrivia.Sometimesweevenconductedourresearchtogether.Thisusuallyconsistedofwatchingcheesy’80smoviesandTVshowshereinhischatroom.Wealsoplayedalotofvideogames,ofcourse.AechandIhadwastedcountlesshoursontwo-playerclassicslikeContra,GoldenAxe,HeavyBarrel,SmashTV,andIkariWarriors.Asidefromyourstruly,Aechwasthebestall-aroundgamerI’deverencountered.Wewereevenlymatchedatmostgames,buthecouldtrouncemeatcertaintitles,especiallyanythinginthefirst-personshootergenre.Thatwashisareaofexpertise,afterall.
Ididn’tknowanythingaboutwhoAechwasintherealworld,butIgotthesensehishomelifewasn’tthatgreat.Likeme,heseemedtospendeverywakingmomentloggedintotheOASIS.Andeventhoughwe’dneveractuallymetinperson,he’dtoldmemorethanoncethatIwashisbestfriend,soIassumedhewasjustasisolatedandlonelyasIwas.
“Sowhatdidyoudoafteryoubailedlastnight?”heasked,tossingmetheotherIntellivisioncontroller.We’dhungouthereinhischatroomforafewhoursthepreviousevening,watchingoldJapanesemonstermovies.
“Nada,”Isaid.“Wenthomeandbrusheduponafewclassiccoin-ops.”
“Unnecessary.”
“Yeah.ButIwasinthemood.”Ididn’taskhimwhathe’ddonethenightbefore,andhedidn’tvolunteeranydetails.Iknewhe’dprobablygonetoGygax,orsomewhereequallyawesome,tospeedrunthroughafewquestsandrackupsomeXPs.Hejustdidn’twanttorubitin.Aechcouldaffordtospendafairamountoftimeoff-world,followingupleadsandsearchingfortheCopperKey.Butheneverlordedthisoverme,orridiculedmefornothavingenoughdoughtoteleportanywhere.Andheneverinsultedmebyofferingtoloanmeafewcredits.Itwasanunspokenruleamonggunters:Ifyouwereasolo,youdidn’t
wantorneedhelp,fromanyone.Gunterswhowantedhelpjoinedaclan,andAechandIbothagreedthatclanswereforsuck-assesandposeurs.We’dbothvowedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd39
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toremainsolosforlife.Westilloccasionallyhaddiscussionsabouttheegg,buttheseconversationswerealwaysguarded,andwewerecarefultoavoidtalkingaboutspecifics.
AfterIbeatAechatthreeroundsofTron:DeadlyDiscs,hethrewdownhisIntellivisioncontrollerindisgustandgrabbedamagazineoffthefloor.
ItwasanoldissueofStarlog.IrecognizedRutgerHaueronthecover,inaLadyhawkepromotionalphoto.
“Starlog,eh?”Isaid,noddingmyapproval.
“Yep.DownloadedeverysingleissuefromtheHatchery’sarchive.Stillworkingmywaythrough’em.IwasjustreadingthisgreatpieceonEwoks:TheBattleforEndor.”
“MadeforTV.Releasedin1985,”Irecited.StarWarstriviawasoneofmyspecialties.“Totalgarbage.AreallowpointinthehistoryoftheWars.”
“Saysyou,assface.Ithassomegreatmoments.”
“No,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.“Itdoesn’t.It’sevenworsethanthatfirstEwokflick,CaravanofCourage.TheyshouldacalleditCaravanofSuck.”
Aechrolledhiseyesandwentbacktoreading.Hewasn’tgoingtotakethebait.Ieyedthemagazine’scover.“Hey,canIhavealookatthatwhenyou’redone?”
Hegrinned.“Why?SoyoucanreadthearticleonLadyhawke?”
“Maybe.”
“Man,youjustlovethatcrapburger,don’tyou?”
“Blowme,Aech.”
“Howmanytimeshaveyouseenthatsapfest?Iknowyou’vemademesitthroughitatleasttwice.”Hewasbaitingmenow.HeknewLadyhawkewasoneofmyguiltypleasures,andthatI’dseenitovertwodozentimes.
“Iwasdoingyouafavorbymakingyouwatchit,noob,”Isaid.IshovedanewcartridgeintotheIntellivisionconsoleandstartedupasingle-playergameofAstrosmash.“You’llthankmeoneday.Waitandsee.Ladyhawkeiscanon.”
“Canon”wasthetermweusedtoclassifyanymovie,book,game,song,orTVshowofwhichHallidaywasknowntohavebeenafan.
“Surely,youmustbejoking,”Aechsaid.
“No,Iamnotjoking.Anddon’tcallmeShirley.”
Heloweredthemagazineandleanedforward.“ThereisnowayHallidaywasafanofLadyhawke.Iguaranteeit.”
“Where’syourproof,dipshit?”Iasked.
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“Themanhadtaste.That’salltheproofIneed.”
“ThenpleaseexplaintomewhyheownedLadyhawkeonbothVHS
andLaserDisc?”AlistofallthefilmsinHalliday’scollectionatthetimeofhisdeathwasincludedintheappendicesofAnorak’sAlmanac.Webothhadthelistmemorized.
“Theguywasabillionaire!Heownedmillionsofmovies,mostofwhichhe
probablyneverevenwatched!HehadDVDsofHowardtheDuckandKrull,too.Thatdoesn’tmeanhelikedthem,asshat.Anditsureashelldoesn’tmakethemcanon.”
“It’snotreallyupfordebate,Homer,”Isaid.“Ladyhawkeisaneightiesclassic.”
“It’sfuckinglame,iswhatitis!Theswordslookliketheyweremadeoutoftinfoil.Andthatsoundtrackisepicallylame.Fullofsynthesizersandshit.BythemotherfuckingAlanParsonsProject!Lame-o-rama!Beyondlame.HighlanderIIlame.”
“Hey!”IfeignedhurlingmyIntellivisioncontrollerathim.“Nowyou’rejustbeinginsulting!Ladyhawke’scastalonemakesthefilmcanon!
RoyBatty!FerrisBueller!AndthedudewhoplayedProfessorFalkeninWarGames!”Isearchedmymemoryfortheactor’sname.“JohnWood!
ReunitedwithMatthewBroderick!”
“Areallowpointinbothoftheircareers,”hesaid,laughing.Helovedarguingaboutoldmovies,evenmorethanIdid.Theotherguntersinthechatroomwerenowstartingtoformasmallcrowdaroundustolistenin.
Ourargumentswereoftenhighinentertainmentvalue.
“Youmustbestoned!”Ishouted.“LadyhawkewasdirectedbyRichardfuckingDonner!TheGoonies?Superman:TheMovie?You’resayingthatguysucks?”
“Idon’tcareifSpielbergdirectedit.It’sachickflickdisguisedasasword-and-sorcerypicture.Theonlygenrefilmwithlessballsisprobably...freakin’Legend.AnyonewhoactuallyenjoysLadyhawkeisabonafideUSDA-choicepussy!”
Laughterfromthepeanutgallery.Iwasactuallygettingalittlepissedoffnow.IwasabigfanofLegendtoo,andAechknewit.
“Oh,soI’mapussy?You’retheonewiththeEwokfetish!”IsnatchedtheStarlogoutofhishandsandthrewitagainstaRevengeoftheJediposteronthewall.“IsupposeyouthinkyourextensiveknowledgeofEwokcultureisgonnahelpyoufindtheegg?”
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“Don’tstartontheEndoriansagain,man,”hesaid,holdingupanindexfinger.“I’vewarnedyou.Iwillbanyourass.Iswear.”Iknewthiswasahollowthreat,soIwasabouttopushtheEwokthingevenfurther,maybegivehimsomecrapforreferringtothemas“Endorians.”Butjustthen,anewarrivalmaterializedonthestaircase.AtotallamerbythenameofI-r0k.Iletoutagroan.I-r0kandAechattendedthesameschoolandhadafewclassestogether,butIstillcouldn’tfigureoutwhyAechhadgrantedhimaccesstotheBasement.I-r0kfanciedhimselfanelitegunter,buthewasnothingbutanobnoxiousposeur.Sure,hedidalotofteleportingaroundtheOASIS,completingquestsandlevelinguphisavatar,buthedidn’tactuallyknowanything.Andhewasalwaysbrandishinganoversizeplasmariflethesizeofasnowmobile.Eveninchatrooms,whereitwastotallypointless.Theguyhadnosenseofdecorum.
“AreyoucocksarguingaboutStarWarsagain?”hesaid,descendingthestepsandwalkingovertojointhecrowdaroundus.“Thatshitissoplayedout,yo.”
IturnedtoAech.“Ifyouwanttobansomeone,whydon’tyoustartwiththisclown?”IhitResetontheIntellivisionandstartedanothergame.
“Shutyourhole,Penis-ville!”I-r0kreplied,usinghisfavoritemispro-nunciationofmyavatar’sname.“Hedoesn’tbanme’causeheknowsI’melite!Ain’tthatright,Aech?”
“No,”Aechsaid,rollinghiseyes.“Thatain’tright.You’reaboutaseliteasmygreat-grandmother.Andshe’sdead.”
“Screwyou,Aech!Andyourdeadgrandma!”
“Gee,I-r0k,”Imuttered.“Youalwaysmanagetoelevatetheintelligenceleveloftheconversation.Thewholeroomjustlightsupthemomentyouarrive.”
“Sosorrytoupsetyou,CaptainNo-Credits,”I-r0ksaid.“Hey,shouldn’tyoube
onIncipiopanhandlingforchangerightnow?”HereachedforthesecondIntellivisioncontroller,butIsnatcheditupandtossedittoAech.
Hescowledatme.“Prick.”
“Poseur.”
“Poseur?Penis-villeiscallingmeaposeur?”Heturnedtoaddressthesmallcrowd.“ThischumpissobrokethathehastobumridestoGreyhawk,justsohecankillkoboldsforcopperpieces!Andhe’scallingmeaposeur!”
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undermyvisor.Once,aboutayearago,I’dmadethemistakeofhitchingarideoff-worldwithI-r0ktotrytogainafewexperiencepoints.Afterdroppingmeinalow-levelquestareaonGreyhawk,thejerkhadfollowedme.I’dspentthenextfewhoursslayingasmallbandofkobolds,waitingforthemtorespawn,andthenslayingthemagain,overandover.Myavatarwasstillonlyfirstlevelatthetime,anditwasoneoftheonlysafewaysformetolevelup.I-r0khadtakenseveralscreenshotsofmyavatarthatnightandlabeledthem“Penis-villetheMightyKoboldSlayer.”Thenhe’dpostedthemtotheHatchery.Hestillbroughtitupeverychancehegot.
Hewasnevergoingtoletmeliveitdown.
“That’sright,Icalledyouaposeur,poseur.”Istoodandgotupinhisgrille.“You’reanignorantknow-nothingtwink.Justbecauseyou’refourteenth-level,itdoesn’tmakeyouagunter.Youactuallyhavetopossesssomeknowledge.”
“Word,”Aechsaid,noddinghisagreement.Webumpedfists.Moresnickeringfromthecrowd,nowdirectedatI-r0k.
I-r0kglaredatusamoment.“OK.Let’sseewhotherealposeuris,”
hesaid.“Checkthisout,girls.”Grinning,heproducedanitemfromhisinventoryandhelditup.ItwasanoldAtari2600game,stillinthebox.
Hepurposefullycoveredthegame’stitlewithhishand,butIrecognizedthecoverartworkanyway.ItwasapaintingofayoungmanandwomaninancientGreekattire,bothbrandishingswords.Lurkingbehindthemwereaminotaurandabeardedguywithaneyepatch.“Knowwhatthisis,hotshot?”I-r0ksaid,challengingme.“I’llevengiveyouaclue....It’sanAtarigame,releasedaspartofacontest.Itcontainedseveralpuzzles,andifyousolvedthem,youcouldwinaprize.Soundfamiliar?”
I-r0kwasalwaystryingtoimpressuswithsomeclueorpieceofHallidaylorehefoolishlybelievedhe’dbeenthefirsttouncover.Gunterslovedtoplaythegameofone-upmanshipandwereconstantlytryingtoprovetheyhadacquiredmoreobscureknowledgethaneveryoneelse.ButI-r0ktotallysuckedatit.
“You’rejoking,right?”Isaid.“YoujustnowdiscoveredtheSwordquest
series?”
I-r0kdeflated.
“You’reholdingSwordquest:Earthworld,”Icontinued.“ThefirstgameintheSwordquestseries.Releasedin1982.”Ismiledwide.“Canyounamethenextthreegamesintheseries?”
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Hiseyesnarrowed.Hewas,ofcourse,stumped.LikeIsaid,hewasatotalposeur.
“Anyoneelse?”Isaid,openingthequestionuptothefloor.Theguntersinthecrowdeyedeachother,butnoonespokeup.
“Fireworld,Waterworld,andAirworld,”Aechanswered.
“Bingo!”Isaid,andwebumpedfistsagain.“AlthoughAirworldwasneveractuallyfinished,becauseAtarifellonhardtimesandcanceledthecontestbeforeitwascompleted.”
I-r0kquietlyputthegameboxbackinhisinventory.
“YoushouldjoinupwiththeSux0rz,I-r0k,”Aechsaid,laughing.“Theycouldreallyusesomeonewithyourvaststoresofknowledge.”
I-r0kflippedhimthebird.“IfyoutwofagsalreadyknewabouttheSwordquestcontest,howcomeI’veneveronceheardyoumentionit?”
“Comeon,I-r0k,”Aechsaid,shakinghishead.“Swordquest:EarthworldwasAtari’sunofficialsequeltoAdventure.Everygunterworththeirsaltknowsaboutthatcontest.Howmuchmoreobviouscanyouget?”
I-r0ktriedtosavesomeface.“OK,ifyou’rebothsuchexperts,whoprogrammedalloftheSwordquestgames?”
“DanHitchensandTodFrye,”Irecited.“Tryaskingmesomethingdifficult.”
“Igotoneforyou,”Aechinterjected.“WhatweretheprizesAtarigaveouttothewinnerofeachcontest?”
“Ah,”Isaid.“Goodone.Let’ssee....TheprizefortheEarthworldcontestwastheTalismanofPenultimateTruth.Itwassolidgoldandencrustedwithdiamonds.Thekidwhowonitmelteditdowntopayforcollege,asIrecall.”
“Yeah,yeah,”Aechprodded.“Quitstalling.Whatabouttheothertwo?”
“I’mnotstalling.TheFireworldprizewastheChaliceofLight,andtheWaterworldprizewassupposedtobetheCrownofLife,butitwasneverawarded,duetothecancellationofthecontest.SamegoesfortheAirworldprize,whichwassupposedtobeaPhilosopher’sStone.”
Aechgrinnedandgavemeadoublehighfive,thenadded,“Andifthecontesthadn’tbeencanceled,thewinnersofthefirstfourroundswouldhavecompetedforthegrandprize,theSwordofUltimateSorcery.”
Inodded.“TheprizeswereallmentionedintheSwordquestcomicbooksthatcamewiththegames.Comicbookswhichhappentobevis-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd44
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ibleinthetreasureroominthefinalsceneofAnorak’sInvitation,bytheway.”
Thecrowdburstintoapplause.I-r0kloweredhisheadinshame.
SinceI’dbecomeagunter,ithadbeenobvioustomethatHallidayhaddrawninspirationforhiscontestfromtheSwordquestcontest.Ihadnoideaifhe’dborrowedanyofthepuzzlesfromthemtoo,butI’dstudiedthegamesandtheirsolutionsthoroughly,justtobesafe.
“Fine.Youwin,”I-r0ksaid.“Butyoubothobviouslyneedtogetalife.”
“Andyou,”Isaid,“obviouslyneedtofindanewhobby.Becauseyouclearlylacktheintelligenceandcommitmenttobeagunter.”
“Nodoubt,”Aechsaid.“Trydoingsomeresearchforachange,I-r0k.Imean,didyoueverhearofWikipedia?It’sfree,douchebag.”
I-r0kturnedandwalkedovertothelongboxesofcomicbooksstackedontheothersideoftheroom,asifhe’dlostinterestinthediscussion.
“Whatever,”hesaidoverhisshoulder.“IfIdidn’tspendsomuchtimeoffline,gettinglaid,I’dprobablyknowjustasmuchworthlessshitasyoutwodo.”
Aechignoredhimandturnedbacktome.“WhatwerethenamesofthetwinswhoappearedintheSwordquestcomicbooks?”
“TarraandTorr.”
“Damn,Z!Youaretheman.”
“Thanks,Aech.”
Amessageflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatthethree-minute-warningbellhadjustrunginmyclassroom.IknewAechandI-r0kwereseeingthesamewarning,becauseourschoolsoperatedonthesameschedule.
“Timeforanotherdayofhigherlearning,”Aechsaid,standingup.
“Drag,”I-r0ksaid.“Seeyouloserslater.”Hegavemethefinger;thenhisavatardisappearedasheloggedoutofthechatroom.Theotherguntersbegantologoutandvanishtoo,untilonlyAechandIremained.
“Seriously,Aech,”Isaid.“Whydoyouletthatmoronhangouthere?”
“Becausehe’sfuntobeatatvideogames.Andhisignorancegivesmehope.”
“Howso?”
“BecauseifmostoftheotherguntersoutthereareascluelessasI-r0k—
andtheyare,Z,believeme—thatmeansyouandIreallydohaveashotatwinningthecontest.”
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Ishrugged.“Iguessthat’sonewaytolookatit.”
“Wannahangafterschoolagaintonight?Aroundsevenorso?I’vegotafewerrandstorun,butthenI’mgonnatacklesomeofthestuffonmyneed-to-watchlist.ASpacedmarathon,perhaps?”
“Oh,hellyes,”Isaid.“Countmein.”
Weloggedoutsimultaneously,justasthefinalbellbegantoring.
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Myavatar’seyesslidopen,andIwasbackinmyWorldHistoryclassroom.Theseatsaroundmewerenowfilledwithotherstudents,andourteacher,Mr.Avenovich,wasmaterializingatthefrontoftheclassroom.Mr.A’savatarlookedlikeaportly,beardedcollegeprofessor.Hesportedaninfectiousgrin,wire-rimmedspectacles,andatweedjacketwithpatchesontheelbows.Whenhespoke,hesomehowalwaysmanagedtosoundlikehewasreadingapassagefromDickens.Ilikedhim.Hewasagoodteacher.
Ofcourse,wedidn’tknowwhoMr.Avenovichreallywasorwherehelived.Wedidn’tknowhisrealname,orevenif“he”wasreallyaman.Forallweknew,hecouldhavebeenasmallInuitwomanlivinginAnchorage,Alaska,whohadadoptedthisappearanceandvoicetomakeherstudentsmorereceptivetoherlessons.Butforsomereason,IsuspectedthatMr.
Avenovich’savatarlookedandsoundedjustlikethepersonoperatingit.
Allofmyteacherswereprettygreat.Unliketheirreal-worldcounter-parts,mostoftheOASISpublicschoolteachersseemedtogenuinelyenjoytheirjob,probablybecausetheydidn’thavetospendhalftheirtimeactingasbabysittersanddisciplinarians.TheOASISsoftwaretookcareofthat,ensuringthatstudentsremainedquietandintheirseats.Alltheteachershadtodowasteach.
Itwasalsoaloteasierforonlineteacherstoholdtheirstudents’attention,becausehereintheOASIS,theclassroomswerelikeholodecks.
Teacherscouldtaketheirstudentsonavirtualfieldtripeveryday,withouteverleavingtheschoolgrounds.
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DuringourWorldHistorylessonthatmorning,Mr.Avenovichloadedupastand-alonesimulationsothatourclasscouldwitnessthediscoveryofKingTut’stombbyarchaeologistsinEgyptinAD1922.(Thedaybefore,we’dvisitedthesamespotin1334BCandhadseenTutankhamen’sempireinallitsglory.)
Inmynextclass,Biology,wetraveledthroughahumanheartandwatcheditpumpingfromtheinside,justlikeinthatoldmovieFantasticVoyage.
InArtclasswetouredtheLouvrewhileallofouravatarsworesillyberets.
InmyAstronomyclasswevisitedeachofJupiter’smoons.WestoodonthevolcanicsurfaceofIowhileourteacherexplainedhowthemoonhadoriginallyformed.Asourteacherspoketous,Jupiterloomedbehindher,fillinghalfthesky,itsGreatRedSpotchurningslowlyjustoverherleftshoulder.ThenshesnappedherfingersandwewerestandingonEuropa,discussingthepossibilityofextraterrestriallifebeneaththemoon’sicycrust.
Ispentmylunchperiodsittinginoneofthegreenfieldsborderingtheschool,staringatthesimulatedscenerywhileImunchedonaproteinbarwithmyvisoron.Itbeatstaringattheinsideofmyhideout.Iwasasenior,soIwasallowedtogooff-worldduringlunchifIwantedto,butIdidn’thavethatkindofsparedoughtoblow.
LoggingintotheOASISwasfree,buttravelingaroundinsideitwasn’t.
Mostofthetime,Ididn’thaveenoughcreditstoteleportoff-worldandgetbacktoLudus.Whenthelastbellrangeachday,thestudentswhohadthingstodointherealworldwouldlogoutoftheOASISandvanish.Everyoneelsewouldheadoff-world.Alotofkidsownedtheirowninterplanetaryvehicles.SchoolparkinglotsalloverLuduswerefilledwithUFOs,TIEfighters,oldNASAspaceshuttles,VipersfromBattlestarGa-lactica,andotherspacecraftdesignsliftedfromeverysci-fimovieandTVshowyoucanthinkof.EveryafternoonIwouldstandontheschool’sfrontlawnandwatchwithenvyastheseshipsfilledthesky,zoomingofftoexplorethesimulation’sendlesspossibilities.Thekidswhodidn’townshipswouldeitherhitcharidewithafriendorstampedetothenearesttransportterminal,headedforsomeoffworlddanceclub,gamingarena,orrockconcert.Butnotme.Iwasn’tgoinganywhere.IwasstrandedonLudus,themostboringplanetintheentireOASIS.
TheOntologicallyAnthropocentricSensoryImmersiveSimulationwasabigplace.
WhentheOASIShadfirstbeenlaunched,itcontainedonlyafewhundredplanetsforuserstoexplore,allcreatedbyGSSprogrammersandart-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd48
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ists.Theirenvironmentsranthegamut,fromsword-and-sorcerysettingstocyberpunk-themedplanetwidecitiestoirradiatedpostapocalypticzombie-infestedwastelands.Someplanetsweredesignedwithpainstakingdetail.Otherswererandomlygeneratedfromaseriesoftemplates.EachonewaspopulatedwithavarietyofartificiallyintelligentNPCs(nonplayercharacters)—computer-controlledhumans,animals,monsters,aliens,andandroidswithwhichOASISuserscouldinteract.
GSShadalsolicensedpreexistingvirtualworldsfromtheircompetitors,socontentthathadalreadybeencreatedforgameslikeEverquestandWorldofWarcraftwasportedovertotheOASIS,andcopiesofNorrathandAzerothwereaddedtothegrowingcatalogofOASISplanets.Othervirtualworldssoonfollowedsuit,fromtheMetaversetotheMatrix.TheFireflyuniversewasanchoredinasectoradjacenttotheStarWarsgalaxy,withadetailedre-creationoftheStarTrekuniverseinthesectoradjacenttothat.Userscouldnowteleportbackandforthbetweentheirfavoritefictionalworlds.MiddleEarth.Vulcan.Pern.Arrakis.Magrathea.Disc-world,Mid-World,Riverworld,Ringworld.Worldsuponworlds.
Forthesakeofzoningandnavigation,theOASIShadbeendividedequallyintotwenty-sevencube-shaped“sectors,”eachcontaininghundredsofdifferentplanets.(Thethree-dimensionalmapofalltwenty-sevensectorsdistinctlyresembledan’80spuzzletoycalledaRubik’sCube.
Likemostgunters,Iknewthiswasnocoincidence.)Eachsectormeasuredexactlytenlight-hoursacross,orabout10.8billionkilometers.Soifyouweretravelingatthespeedoflight(thefastestspeedattainablebyanyspacecraft
insidetheOASIS),youcouldgetfromonesideofasectortotheotherinexactlytenhours.Thatsortoflong-distancetravelwasn’tcheap.
Spacecraftthatcouldtravelatlightspeedwererare,andtheyrequiredfueltooperate.ChargingpeopleforvirtualfueltopowertheirvirtualspaceshipswasoneofthewaysGregariousSimulationSystemsgeneratedrevenue,sinceaccessingtheOASISwasfree.ButGSS’sprimarysourceofincomecamefromteleportationfares.Teleportationwasthefastestwaytotravel,butitwasalsothemostexpensive.
TravelingaroundinsidetheOASISwasn’tjustcostly—itwasalsodangerous.Eachsectorwasdividedupintomanydifferentzonesthatvariedinsizeandshape.Somezonesweresolargethattheyencompassedseveralplanets,whileotherscoveredonlyafewkilometersonthesurfaceofasingleworld.Eachzonehadauniquecombinationofrulesandpa-rameters.Magicwouldfunctioninsomezonesandnotinothers.TheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd49
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samewastrueoftechnology.Ifyouflewyourtechnology-basedstarshipintoazonewheretechnologydidn’tfunction,yourengineswouldfailthemomentyoucrossedthezoneborder.Thenyou’dhavetohiresomesillygray-beardedsorcererwithaspell-poweredspacebargetotowyourassbackintoatechnologyzone.
Dualzonespermittedtheuseofbothmagicandtechnology,andnullzonesdidn’talloweither.Therewerepacifistzoneswherenoplayer-versus-playercombatwasallowed,andplayer-versus-playerzoneswhereitwaseveryavatarforthemselves.
Youhadtobecarefulwheneveryouenteredanewzoneorsector.Youhadtobeprepared.
ButlikeIsaid,Ididn’thavethatproblem.Iwasstuckatschool.
Ludushadbeendesignedasaplaceoflearning,sotheplanethadbeencreated
withoutasinglequestportalorgamingzoneanywhereonitssurface.Theonlythingtobefoundherewerethousandsofidenticalschoolcampusesseparatedbyrollinggreenfields,perfectlylandscapedparks,rivers,meadows,andsprawlingtemplate-generatedforests.Therewerenocastles,dungeons,ororbitingspacefortressesformyavatartoraid.AndtherewerenoNPCvillains,monsters,oraliensformetofight,sotherewasnotreasureormagicitemsformetoplunder.
Thistotallysucked,foralotofreasons.
Completingquests,fightingNPCs,andgatheringtreasureweretheonlywaysalow-levelavatarlikeminecouldearnexperiencepoints(XPs).
EarningXPswashowyouincreasedyouravatar’spowerlevel,strength,andabilities.
AlotofOASISusersdidn’tcareabouttheiravatar’spowerlevelorbotherwiththegamingaspectsofthesimulationatall.TheyonlyusedtheOASISforentertainment,business,shopping,andhangingoutwiththeirfriends.TheseuserssimplyavoidedenteringanygamingorPvP
zoneswheretheirdefenselessfirst-levelavatarscouldbeattackedbyNPCsorbyotherplayers.Ifyoustayedinsafezones,likeLudus,youdidn’thavetoworryaboutyouravatargettingrobbed,kidnapped,orkilled.
Ihatedbeingstuckinasafezone.
IfIwasgoingtofindHalliday’segg,IknewIwouldeventuallyhavetoventureoutinthedangeroussectorsoftheOASIS.AndifIwasn’tpowerfulorwell-armedenoughtodefendmyself,Iwasn’tgoingtostayaliveforverylong.
Overthepastfiveyears,I’dmanagedtoslowly,graduallyraisemyavatarClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd50
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uptothirdlevel.Thishadn’tbeeneasy.I’ddoneitbyhitchingridesoffworld
withotherstudents(mostlyAech)whohappenedtobeheadedtoaplanetwheremywussavatarcouldsurvive.I’dhavethemdropmenearanewbie-levelgamingzoneandspendtherestofthenightorweekendslayingorcs,kobolds,orsomeotherpiddlyclassofmonsterthatwastooweaktokillme.ForeachNPCmyavatardefeated,Iwouldearnafewmeagerexperiencepointsand,usually,ahandfulofcopperorsilvercoinsdroppedbymyslainfoes.Thesecoinswereinstantlyconvertedtocredits,whichIusedtopaytheteleportationfarebacktoLudus,oftenjustbeforethefinalschoolbellrang.Sometimes,butnotoften,oneoftheNPCsIkilledwoulddropanitem.ThatwashowI’dobtainedmyavatar’ssword,shield,andarmor.
I’dstoppedhitchingrideswithAechattheendofthepreviousschoolyear.Hisavatarwasnowabovethirtiethlevel,andsohewasalmostalwaysheadedtoaplanetwhereitwasn’tsafeformyavatar.Hewashappytodropmeonsomenoobworldalongtheway,butifIdidn’tearnenoughcreditstopayformyfarebacktoLudus,I’dwindupmissingschoolbecauseIwasstuckonsomeotherplanet.Thiswasnotanacceptableexcuse.I’dnowrackedupsomanyunexcusedabsencesthatIwasindangerofbeingexpelled.Ifthathappened,Iwouldhavetoreturnmyschool-issuedOASISconsoleandvisor.Worse,I’dbetransferredbacktoschoolintherealworldtofinishoutmysenioryearthere.Icouldn’triskthat.
SothesedaysIrarelyleftLudusatall.Iwasstuckhere,andstuckatthirdlevel.Havingathird-levelavatarwasacolossalembarrassment.
Noneoftheothergunterstookyouseriouslyunlessyouwereatleasttenthlevel.EventhoughI’dbeenaguntersincedayone,everyonestillconsideredmeanoob.Itwasbeyondfrustrating.
Indesperation,I’dtriedtofindapart-timeafter-schooljob,justtoearnsomewalking-aroundmoney.Iappliedfordozensoftechsupportandprogrammingjobs(mostlygruntconstructionwork,codingpartsofOASISmallsandofficebuildings),butitwascompletelyhopeless.Millionsofcollege-educatedadultscouldn’tgetoneofthosejobs.TheGreatRecessionwasnowenteringitsthirddecade,andunemploymentwasstillatarecordhigh.Eventhefast-foodjointsinmyneighborhoodhadatwo-yearwaitinglistforjobapplicants.
SoIremainedstuckatschool.Ifeltlikeakidstandingintheworld’sgreatestvideoarcadewithoutanyquarters,unabletodoanythingbutwalkaroundand
watchtheotherkidsplay.
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Afterlunch,Iheadedtomyfavoriteclass,AdvancedOASIS
Studies.Thiswasasenior-yearelectivewhereyoulearnedaboutthehistoryoftheOASISanditscreators.TalkaboutaneasyA.
Forthepastfiveyears,I’ddevotedallofmyfreetimetolearningasmuchasIpossiblycouldaboutJamesHalliday.I’dexhaustivelystudiedhislife,accomplishments,andinterests.OveradozendifferentHallidaybiographieshadbeenpublishedintheyearssincehisdeath,andI’dreadthemall.Severaldocumentaryfilmshadalsobeenmadeabouthim,andI’dstudiedthose,too.I’dstudiedeverywordHallidayhadeverwritten,andI’dplayedeveryvideogamehe’devermade.Itooknotes,writingdowneverydetailIthoughtmightberelatedtotheHunt.Ikepteverythinginanotebook(whichI’dstartedtocallmy“graildiary”afterwatchingthethirdIndianaJonesfilm).
ThemoreI’dlearnedaboutHalliday’slife,themoreI’dgrowntoidol-izehim.Hewasagodamonggeeks,anerdüber-deityonthelevelofGygax,Garriott,andGates.He’dlefthomeafterhighschoolwithnothingbuthiswitsandhisimagination,andhe’dusedthemtoattainworldwidefameandamassavastfortune.He’dcreatedanentirelynewrealitythatnowprovidedanescapeformostofhumanity.Andtotopitalloff,he’dturnedhislastwillandtestamentintothegreatestvideogamecontestofalltime.
IspentmostofmytimeinAdvancedOASISStudiesclassannoyingourteacher,Mr.Ciders,bypointingouterrorsinourtextbookandraisingmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd52
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handtointerjectsomerelevantbitofHallidaytriviathatI(andIalone)thoughtwasinteresting.Afterthefirstfewweeksofclass,Mr.Cidershadstoppedcallingonmeunlessnooneelseknewtheanswertohisquestion.
Today,hewasreadingexcerptsfromTheEggMan,abestsellingHallidaybiographythatI’dalreadyreadfourtimes.Duringhislecture,Ikepthavingtoresisttheurgetointerrupthimandpointoutallofthereallyimportantdetailsthebookleftout.Instead,Ijustmadeamentalnoteofeachomission,andasMr.CidersbegantorecountthecircumstancesofHalliday’schildhood,IonceagaintriedtogleanwhateversecretsIcouldfromthestrangewayHallidayhadlivedhislife,andfromtheoddcluesabouthimselfhe’dchosentoleavebehind.
...
JamesDonovanHallidaywasbornonJune12,1972,inMiddletown,Ohio.Hewasanonlychild.Hisfatherwasanalcoholicmachineoperatorandhismotherwasabipolarwaitress.
Byallaccounts,Jameswasabrightboy,butsociallyinept.Hehadanextremelydifficulttimecommunicatingwiththepeoplearoundhim.Despitehisobviousintelligence,hedidpoorlyinschool,becausemostofhisattentionwasfocusedoncomputers,comicbooks,sci-fiandfantasynovels,movies,andaboveallelse,videogames.
Onedayinjuniorhigh,HallidaywassittingaloneinthecafeteriareadingaDungeons&DragonsPlayer’sHandbook.Thegamefascinatedhim,buthe’dneveractuallyplayedit,becausehe’dneverhadanyfriendstoplayitwith.AboyinhisclassnamedOgdenMorrownoticedwhatHallidaywasreadingandinvitedhimtoattendoneoftheweeklyD&Dgamingsessionsheldathishouse.There,inMorrow’sbasement,Hallidaywasintroducedtoanentiregroupof“megageeks”justlikehimself.Theyimmediatelyacceptedhimasoneoftheirown,andforthefirsttimeinhislife,JamesHallidayhadacircleoffriends.
OgdenMorroweventuallybecameHalliday’sbusinesspartner,collab-orator,andbestfriend.ManywouldlaterlikenthepairingofMorrowandHallidaytothatofJobsandWozniakorLennonandMcCartney.Itwasapartnershipdestinedtoalterthecourseofhumanhistory.
Atagefifteen,Hallidaycreatedhisfirstvideogame,Anorak’sQuest.HeprogrammeditinBASIConaTRS-80ColorComputerhe’dreceivedthepreviousChristmas(thoughhe’daskedhisparentsfortheslightlymoreClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd53
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expensiveCommodore64).Anorak’sQuestwasanadventuregamesetinChthonia,thefantasyworldHallidayhadcreatedforhishigh-schoolDungeons&Dragonscampaign.“Anorak”wasanicknameHallidayhadbeengivenbyafemaleBritishexchangestudentathishighschool.HelikedthenameAnoraksomuchthathe’duseditforhisfavoriteD&D
character,thepowerfulwizardwholaterappearedinmanyofhisvideogames.
HallidaycreatedAnorak’sQuestforfun,tosharewiththeguysinhisD&Dgaminggroup.Theyallfoundthegameaddictive,andlostcountlesshoursattemptingtosolveitsintricateriddlesandpuzzles.OgdenMorrowconvincedHallidaythatAnorak’sQuestwasbetterthanmostofthecomputergamescurrentlyonthemarket,andencouragedhimtotrysellingit.HehelpedHallidaycreatesomesimplecoverartworkforthegame,andtogether,thetwoofthemhand-copiedAnorak’sQuestontodozensof5¼-inchfloppydisksandstuckthemintoZiplocbagsalongwithasinglephotocopiedsheetofinstructions.Theybegansellingthegameonthesoftwarerackattheirlocalcomputerstore.Beforelong,theycouldn’tmakecopiesfastenoughtomeetthedemand.
MorrowandHallidaydecidedtostarttheirownvideogamecompany,GregariousGames,whichinitiallyoperatedoutofMorrow’sbasement.
HallidayprogrammednewversionsofAnorak’sQuestfortheAtari800XL,AppleII,andCommodore64computers,andMorrowbeganplacingadsforthegameinthebackofseveralcomputermagazines.Withinsixmonths,Anorak’sQuestbecameanationalbestseller.
HallidayandMorrowalmostdidn’tgraduatefromhighschoolbecausetheyspentmostoftheirsenioryearworkingonAnorak’sQuestII.Andinsteadof
goingofftocollege,theybothfocusedalloftheirenergyontheirnewcompany,whichhadnowgrowntoolargeforMorrow’sbasement.In1990,GregariousGamesmovedintoitsfirstrealoffice,locatedinarun-downstripmallinColumbus,Ohio.
Overthenextdecade,thesmallcompanytookthevideogameindustrybystorm,releasingaseriesofbestsellingactionandadventuregames,allusingagroundbreakingfirst-persongraphicsenginecreatedbyHalliday.
GregariousGamessetanewstandardforimmersivegaming,andeverytimetheyreleasedanewtitle,itpushedtheenvelopeofwhatseemedpossibleonthecomputerhardwareavailableatthetime.
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allofthecompany’sbusinessaffairsandpublicrelations.AteveryGregariousGamespressconference,Morrowgrinnedinfectiouslyfrombehindhisunrulybeardandwire-rimmedspectacles,usinghisnaturalgiftforhypeandhyperbole.HallidayseemedtobeMorrow’spolaroppositeineveryway.Hewastall,gaunt,andpainfullyshy,andhepreferredtostayoutofthelimelight.
PeopleemployedbyGregariousGamesduringthisperiodsaythatHallidayfrequentlylockedhimselfinhisoffice,whereheprogrammedincessantly,oftengoingwithoutfood,sleep,orhumancontactfordaysorevenweeks.
OnthefewoccasionsthatHallidayagreedtodointerviews,hisbe-haviorcameoffasbizarre,evenbygame-designerstandards.Hewashyperkinetic,aloof,andsosociallyineptthattheinterviewersoftencameawaywiththeimpressionhewasmentallyill.Hallidaytendedtospeaksorapidlythathiswordswereoftenunintelligible,andhehadadisturbinghigh-pitchedlaugh,madeevenmoresobecausehewasusuallytheonlyonewhoknewwhathewaslaughingabout.WhenHallidaygotboredduringaninterview(orconversation),hewouldusuallygetupandwalkoutwithoutsayingaword.
Hallidayhadmanywell-knownobsessions.Chiefamongthemwereclassicvideogames,sci-fiandfantasynovels,andmoviesofallgenres.
Healsohadanextremefixationonthe1980s,thedecadeduringwhichhe’dbeenateenager.Hallidayseemedtoexpecteveryonearoundhimtosharehisobsessions,andheoftenlashedoutatthosewhodidn’t.Hewasknowntofirelongtimeemployeesfornotrecognizinganobscurelineofmoviedialoguehequoted,orifhediscoveredtheyweren’tfamiliarwithoneofhisfavoritecartoons,comicbooks,orvideogames.(OgdenMorrowwouldalwayshiretheemployeeback,usuallywithoutHallidayevernoticing.)
Astheyearswenton,Halliday’salready-stuntedsocialskillsseemedtodeteriorateevenfurther.(SeveralexhaustivepsychologicalstudiesweredoneonHallidayfollowinghisdeath,andhisobsessiveadherencetoroutineandpreoccupationwithafewobscureareasofinterestledmanypsychologiststoconcludethatHallidayhadsufferedfromAsperger’ssyn-drome,orfromsomeotherformofhigh-functioningautism.)Despitehiseccentricities,nooneeverquestionedHalliday’sgenius.
Thegameshecreatedwereaddictiveandwildlypopular.BytheendofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd55
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thetwentiethcentury,Hallidaywaswidelyrecognizedasthegreatestvideogamedesignerofhisgeneration—and,somewouldargue,ofalltime.
OgdenMorrowwasabrilliantprogrammerinhisownright,buthistruetalentwashisknackforbusiness.Inadditiontocollaboratingonthecompany’sgames,hemastermindedalloftheirearlymarketingcampaignsandsharewaredistributionschemes,withastoundingresults.
WhenGregariousGamesfinallywentpublic,theirstockimmediatelyshotintothestratosphere.
Bytheirthirtiethbirthdays,HallidayandMorrowwerebothmultimil-lionaires.
Theypurchasedmansionsonthesamestreet.MorrowboughtaLamborghini,tookseverallongvacations,andtraveledtheworld.HallidayboughtandrestoredoneoftheoriginalDeLoreansusedintheBacktotheFuturefilms,continuedtospendnearlyallofhistimeweldedtoacomputerkeyboard,andusedhisnewfoundwealthtoamasswhatwouldeventuallybecometheworld’slargestprivatecollectionofclassicvideogames,StarWarsactionfigures,vintagelunchboxes,andcomicbooks.
Attheheightofitssuccess,GregariousGamesappearedtofalldor-mant.Severalyearselapsedduringwhichtheyreleasednonewgames.
Morrowmadecrypticannouncements,sayingthecompanywasworkingonanambitiousprojectthatwouldmovetheminanentirelynewdirection.RumorsbegantocirculatethatGregariousGameswasdevelopingsomesortofnewcomputergaminghardwareandthatthissecretprojectwasrapidlyexhaustingthecompany’sconsiderablefinancialresources.
TherewerealsoindicationsthatbothHallidayandMorrowhadinvestedmostoftheirownpersonalfortunesinthecompany’snewendeavor.WordbegantospreadthatGregariousGameswasindangerofgoingbankrupt.
Then,inDecember2012,GregariousGamesrebrandeditselfasGregariousSimulationSystems,andunderthisnewbannertheylaunchedtheirflagshipproduct,theonlyproductGSSwouldeverrelease:theOASIS—theOntologicallyAnthropocentricSensoryImmersiveSimulation.
TheOASISwouldultimatelychangethewaypeoplearoundtheworldlived,worked,andcommunicated.Itwouldtransformentertainment,socialnetworking,andevenglobalpolitics.Eventhoughitwasinitiallymarketedasanewkindofmassivelymultiplayeronlinegame,theOASIS
quicklyevolvedintoanewwayoflife.
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InthedaysbeforetheOASIS,massivelymultiplayeronlinegames(MMOs)wereamongthefirstsharedsyntheticenvironments.Theyallowedthousandsofplayerstosimultaneouslycoexistinsideasimulatedworld,whichtheyconnectedtoviatheInternet.Theoverallsizeoftheseenvironmentswasrelativelysmall,usuallyjustasingleworld,oradozenorsosmallplanets.MMOplayerscouldonlyseetheseonlineenvironmentsthroughasmalltwo-dimensionalwindow—theirdesktopcomputermonitor—
andtheycouldonlyinteractwithitbyusingkeyboards,mice,andothercrudeinputdevices.
GregariousSimulationSystemselevatedtheMMOconcepttoanentirelynewlevel.TheOASISdidn’tlimititsuserstojustoneplanet,orevenadozen.TheOASIScontainedhundreds(andeventuallythousands)ofhigh-resolution3-Dworldsforpeopletoexplore,andeachonewasbeautifullyrenderedinmeticulousgraphicaldetail,rightdowntobugsandbladesofgrass,windandweatherpatterns.Userscouldcircumnavigateeachoftheseplanetsandneverseethesameterraintwice.Eveninitsfirstprimitiveincarnation,thescopeofthesimulationwasstaggering.
HallidayandMorrowreferredtotheOASISasan“open-sourcereality,”amalleableonlineuniversethatanyonecouldaccessviatheInternet,usingtheirexistinghomecomputerorvideogameconsole.Youcouldloginandinstantlyescapethedrudgeryofyourday-to-daylife.Youcouldcreateanentirelynewpersonaforyourself,withcompletecontroloverhowyoulookedandsoundedtoothers.IntheOASIS,thefatcouldbecomethin,theuglycouldbecomebeautiful,andtheshy,extroverted.Orviceversa.Youcouldchangeyourname,age,sex,race,height,weight,voice,haircolor,andbonestructure.Oryoucouldceasebeinghumanaltogether,andbecomeanelf,ogre,alien,oranyothercreaturefromlit-erature,movies,ormythology.
IntheOASIS,youcouldbecomewhomeverandwhateveryouwantedtobe,withouteverrevealingyourtrueidentity,becauseyouranonymitywasguaranteed.
UserscouldalsoalterthecontentofthevirtualworldsinsidetheOASIS,orcreateentirelynewones.Aperson’sonlinepresencewasnolongerlimitedtoa
websiteorasocial-networkingprofile.IntheOASIS,youcouldcreateyourownprivateplanet,buildavirtualmansiononit,furnishanddecorateithoweveryouliked,andinviteafewthousandfriendsoverforaparty.Andthosefriendscouldbeinadozendifferenttimezones,spreadallovertheglobe.
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ThekeystothesuccessoftheOASISwerethetwonewpiecesofinterfacehardwarethatGSShadcreated,bothofwhichwererequiredtoaccessthesimulation:theOASISvisorandhapticgloves.
Thewirelessone-size-fits-allOASISvisorwasslightlylargerthanapairofsunglasses.Itusedharmlesslow-poweredlaserstodrawthestunninglyrealenvironmentoftheOASISrightontoitswearer’sretinas,completelyimmersingtheirentirefieldofvisionintheonlineworld.Thevisorwaslight-yearsaheadoftheclunkyvirtual-realitygogglesavailablepriortothattime,anditrepresentedaparadigmshiftinvirtual-realitytechnology—asdidthelightweightOASIShapticgloves,whichalloweduserstodirectlycontrolthehandsoftheiravatarandtointeractwiththeirsimulatedenvironmentasiftheywereactuallyinsideit.Whenyoupickedupobjects,openeddoors,oroperatedvehicles,thehapticglovesmadeyoufeelthesenonexistentobjectsandsurfacesasiftheywerereallyrightthereinfrontofyou.Theglovesletyou,asthetelevisionadsputit,“reachinandtouchtheOASIS.”Workingtogether,thevisorandtheglovesmadeenteringtheOASISanexperienceunlikeanythingelseavailable,andoncepeoplegotatasteofit,therewasnogoingback.
Thesoftwarethatpoweredthesimulation,Halliday’snewOASISRealityEngine,alsorepresentedahugetechnologicalbreakthrough.Itmanagedtoovercomelimitationsthathadplaguedprevioussimulatedrealities.Inadditiontorestrictingtheoverallsizeoftheirvirtualenvironments,earlierMMOshadbeenforcedtolimittheirvirtualpopula-tions,usuallytoafewthousandusersperserver.Iftoomanypeoplewereloggedinatthesametime,thesimulationwouldslowtoacrawlandavatarswouldfreezeinmidstrideasthesystemstruggledtokeepup.ButtheOASISutilizedanewkindoffault-tolerantserverarraythat
coulddrawadditionalprocessingpowerfromeverycomputerconnectedtoit.Atthetimeofitsinitiallaunch,theOASIScouldhandleuptofivemillionsimultaneoususers,withnodiscerniblelatencyandnochanceofasystemcrash.
AmassivemarketingcampaignpromotedthelaunchoftheOASIS.
Thepervasivetelevision,billboard,andInternetadsfeaturedalushgreenoasis,completewithpalmtreesandapoolofcrystalbluewater,surroundedonallsidesbyavastbarrendesert.
GSS’snewendeavorwasamassivesuccessfromdayone.TheOASIS
waswhatpeoplehadbeendreamingoffordecades.The“virtualreality”
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theyhadbeenpromisedforsolongwasfinallyhere,anditwasevenbetterthanthey’dimagined.TheOASISwasanonlineutopia,aholodeckforthehome.Anditsbiggestsellingpoint?Itwasfree.
Mostonlinegamesofthedaygeneratedrevenuebychargingusersamonthlysubscriptionfeeforaccess.GSSonlychargedaonetimesign-upfeeoftwenty-fivecents,forwhichyoureceivedalifetimeOASISaccount.
Theadsallusedthesametagline:TheOASIS—it’sthegreatestvideogameevercreated,anditonlycostsaquarter.
Atatimeofdrasticsocialandculturalupheaval,whenmostoftheworld’spopulationlongedforanescapefromreality,theOASISprovidedit,inaformthatwascheap,legal,safe,andnot(medicallyproventobe)addictive.TheongoingenergycrisiscontributedgreatlytotheOASIS’srunawaypopularity.Theskyrocketingcostofoilmadeairlineandauto-mobiletraveltooexpensivefortheaveragecitizen,andtheOASISbecametheonlygetawaymostpeoplecouldafford.Astheeraofcheap,abundantenergydrewtoaclose,povertyand
unrestbegantospreadlikeavirus.
Everyday,moreandmorepeoplehadreasontoseeksolaceinsideHallidayandMorrow’svirtualutopia.
AnybusinessthatwantedtosetupshopinsidetheOASIShadtorentorpurchasevirtualrealestate(whichMorrowdubbed“surrealestate”)fromGSS.Anticipatingthis,thecompanyhadsetasideSectorOneasthesimulation’sdesignatedbusinesszoneandbegantosellandrentmillionsofblocksofsurrealestatethere.City-sizedshoppingmallswereerectedintheblinkofaneye,andstorefrontsspreadacrossplanetsliketime-lapsefootageofmolddevouringanorange.Urbandevelopmenthadneverbeensoeasy.
InadditiontothebillionsofdollarsthatGSSrakedinsellinglandthatdidn’tactuallyexist,theymadeakillingsellingvirtualobjectsandvehicles.TheOASISbecamesuchanintegralpartofpeople’sday-to-daysociallivesthatusersweremorethanwillingtoshelloutrealmoneytobuyaccessoriesfortheiravatars:clothing,furniture,houses,flyingcars,magicswordsandmachineguns.TheseitemswerenothingbutonesandzerosstoredontheOASISservers,buttheywerealsostatussymbols.Mostitemsonlycostafewcredits,butsincetheycostnothingforGSStomanufacture,itwasallprofit.Eveninthethroesofanongoingeconomicrecession,theOASISallowedAmericanstocontinueengagingintheirfavoritepastime:shopping.
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TheOASISquicklybecamethesinglemostpopularusefortheInternet,somuchsothattheterms“OASIS”and“Internet”graduallybecamesynonymous.Andtheincrediblyeasy-to-usethree-dimensionalOASIS
OS,whichGSSgaveawayforfree,becamethesinglemostpopularcomputeroperatingsystemintheworld.
Beforelong,billionsofpeoplearoundtheworldwereworkingandplayingin
theOASISeveryday.Someofthemmet,fellinlove,andgotmarriedwithouteversettingfootonthesamecontinent.Thelinesofdistinctionbetweenaperson’srealidentityandthatoftheiravatarbegantoblur.
Itwasthedawnofnewera,onewheremostofthehumanracenowspentalloftheirfreetimeinsideavideogame.
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Therestofmyschooldaypassedquicklyuntilmyfinalclass,Latin.
Moststudentstookaforeignlanguagetheymightactuallybeabletousesomeday,likeMandarin,orHindi,orSpanish.I’ddecidedtotakeLatinbecauseJamesHallidayhadtakenLatin.He’dalsooccasionallyusedLatinwordsandphrasesinhisearlyadventuregames.Unfortunately,evenwiththelimitlesspossibilitiesoftheOASISatherdisposal,myLatinteacher,Ms.Rank,stillhadahardtimemakingherlessonsinteresting.
AndtodayshewasreviewingabunchofverbsI’dalreadymemorized,soIfoundmyattentiondriftingalmostimmediately.
Whileaclasswasinsession,thesimulationpreventedstudentsfromaccessinganydataorprogramsthatweren’tauthorizedbytheirteacher,topreventkidsfromwatchingmovies,playinggames,orchattingwitheachotherinsteadofpayingattentiontothelesson.Luckily,duringmyjunioryear,I’ddiscoveredabugintheschool’sonlinelibrarysoftware,andbyexploitingit,Icouldaccessanybookintheschool’sonlinelibrary,includingAnorak’sAlmanac.SowheneverIgotbored(likerightnow)Iwouldpullitupinawindowonmydisplayandreadovermyfavoritepassagestopassthetime.
Overthepastfiveyears,theAlmanachadbecomemybible.Likemostbooksnowadays,itwasonlyavailableinelectronicformat.ButI’dwantedtobeabletoreadtheAlmanacnightorday,evenduringoneofthestacks’
frequentpoweroutages,soI’dfixedupanolddiscardedlaserprinterandusedittoprintoutahardcopy.Iputitinanoldthree-ringbinderthatIkeptinmybackpackandstudieduntilIkneweverywordbyheart.
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TheAlmanaccontainedthousandsofreferencestoHalliday’sfavoritebooks,TVshows,movies,songs,graphicnovels,andvideogames.Mostoftheseitemswereoverfortyyearsold,andsofreedigitalcopiesofthemcouldbedownloadedfromtheOASIS.IftherewassomethingIneededthatwasn’tlegallyavailableforfree,IcouldalmostalwaysgetitbyusingGuntorrent,afile-sharingprogramusedbyguntersaroundtheworld.
Whenitcametomyresearch,Inevertookanyshortcuts.Overthepastfiveyears,I’dworkedmywaydowntheentirerecommendedgunterreadinglist.DouglasAdams.KurtVonnegut.NealStephenson.RichardK.Mor-gan.StephenKing.OrsonScottCard.TerryPratchett.TerryBrooks.Bester,Bradbury,Haldeman,Heinlein,Tolkien,Vance,Gibson,Gaiman,Sterling,Moorcock,Scalzi,Zelazny.IreadeverynovelbyeverysingleoneofHalliday’sfavoriteauthors.
AndIdidn’tstopthere.
IalsowatchedeverysinglefilmhereferencedintheAlmanac.IfitwasoneofHalliday’sfavorites,likeWarGames,Ghostbusters,RealGenius,BetterOffDead,orRevengeoftheNerds,IrewatchedituntilIkneweveryscenebyheart.
IdevouredeachofwhatHallidayreferredtoas“TheHolyTrilogies”:StarWars(originalandprequeltrilogies,inthatorder),LordoftheRings,TheMatrix,MadMax,BacktotheFuture,andIndianaJones.(HallidayoncesaidthathepreferredtopretendtheotherIndianaJonesfilms,fromKingdomoftheCrystalSkullonward,didn’texist.Itendedtoagree.)Ialsoabsorbedthecompletefilmographiesofeachofhisfavoritedirectors.Cameron,Gilliam,Jackson,Fincher,Kubrick,Lucas,Spielberg,DelToro,Tarantino.And,ofcourse,Kevin
Smith.
IspentthreemonthsstudyingeveryJohnHughesteenmovieandmemorizingallthekeylinesofdialogue.
Onlythemeekgetpinched.Theboldsurvive.
YoucouldsayIcoveredallthebases.
IstudiedMontyPython.AndnotjustHolyGrail,either.Everysingleoneoftheirfilms,albums,andbooks,andeveryepisodeoftheoriginalBBCseries.(Includingthosetwo“lost”episodestheydidforGermantelevision.)Iwasn’tgoingtocutanycorners.
Iwasn’tgoingtomisssomethingobvious.
Somewherealongtheway,Istartedtogooverboard.
Imay,infact,havestartedtogoalittleinsane.
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IwatchedeveryepisodeofTheGreatestAmericanHero,Airwolf,TheA-Team,KnightRider,MisfitsofScience,andTheMuppetShow.
WhataboutTheSimpsons,youask?
IknewmoreaboutSpringfieldthanIknewaboutmyowncity.
StarTrek?Oh,Ididmyhomework.TOS,TNG,DS9.EvenVoyagerandEnterprise.Iwatchedthemallinchronologicalorder.Themovies,too.
Phaserslockedontarget.
Igavemyselfacrashcoursein’80sSaturday-morningcartoons.
IlearnedthenameofeverylastgoddamnGobotandTransformer.
LandoftheLost,ThundarrtheBarbarian,He-Man,SchoolhouseRock!,G.I.Joe—Iknewthemall.Becauseknowingishalfthebattle.
Whowasmyfriend,whenthingsgotrough?H.R.Pufnstuf.
Japan?DidIcoverJapan?
Yes.Yesindeed.Animeandlive-action.Godzilla,Gamera,StarBlazers,TheSpaceGiants,andG-Force.Go,SpeedRacer,Go.
Iwasn’tsomedilettante.
Iwasn’tscrewingaround.
ImemorizedeverylastBillHicksstand-uproutine.
Music?Well,coveringallthemusicwasn’teasy.
Ittooksometime.
The’80swasalongdecade(tenwholeyears),andHallidaydidn’tseemtohavehadverydiscerningtaste.Helistenedtoeverything.SoIdidtoo.
Pop,rock,newwave,punk,heavymetal.FromthePolicetoJourneytoR.E.M.totheClash.Itackleditall.
IburnedthroughtheentireTheyMightBeGiantsdiscographyinundertwoweeks.Devotookalittlelonger.
IwatchedalotofYouTubevideosofcutegeekygirlsplaying’80scovertunesonukuleles.Technically,thiswasn’tpartofmyresearch,butIhadaseriouscute-geeky-girls-playing-ukulelesfetishthatIcanneitherexplainnordefend.
Imemorizedlyrics.Sillylyrics,bybandswithnameslikeVanHalen,BonJovi,DefLeppard,andPinkFloyd.
Ikeptatit.
Iburnedthemidnightoil.
DidyouknowthatMidnightOilwasanAustralianband,witha1987
hittitled“BedsAreBurning”?
Iwasobsessed.Iwouldn’tquit.Mygradessuffered.Ididn’tcare.
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IreadeveryissueofeverycomicbooktitleHallidayhadevercollected.
Iwasn’tgoingtohaveanyonequestioningmycommitment.
Especiallywhenitcametothevideogames.
Videogamesweremyareaofexpertise.
Mydouble-weaponspecialization.
MydreamJeopardy!category.
IdownloadedeverygamementionedorreferencedintheAlmanac,fromAkalabethtoZaxxon.IplayedeachtitleuntilIhadmasteredit,thenmovedontothenextone.
You’dbeamazedhowmuchresearchyoucangetdonewhenyouhavenolifewhatsoever.Twelvehoursaday,sevendaysaweek,isalotofstudytime.
Iworkedmywaythrougheveryvideogamegenreandplatform.Classicarcadecoin-ops,homecomputer,console,andhandheld.Text-basedadventures,first-personshooters,third-personRPGs.Ancient8-,16-,and32-bitclassicswritteninthepreviouscentury.Theharderagamewastobeat,themoreIenjoyedit.AndasIplayedtheseancientdigitalrelics,nightafternight,yearafteryear,IdiscoveredIhadatalentforthem.Icouldmastermostactiontitlesinafewhours,andtherewasn’tanadventureorrole-playinggameIcouldn’tsolve.Ineverneededanywalkthroughsorcheatcodes.Everythingjustclicked.AndI
wasevenbetterattheoldarcadegames.WhenIwasinthezoneonahigh-speedclassiclikeDefender,Ifeltlikeahawkinflight,orthewayIthoughtasharkmustfeelasitcruisestheoceanfloor.Forthefirsttime,Iknewwhatitwastobeanaturalatsomething.Tohaveagift.
Butitwasn’tmyresearchintooldmovies,comics,orvideogamesthathadyieldedmyfirstrealclue.ThathadcomewhileIwasstudyingthehistoryofoldpen-and-paperrole-playinggames.
...
ReprintedonthefirstpageofAnorak’sAlmanacwerethefourrhyminglinesofverseHallidayhadrecitedintheInvitationvideo.
Threehiddenkeysopenthreesecretgates
Whereintheerrantwillbetestedforworthytraits
Andthosewiththeskilltosurvivethesestraits
WillreachTheEndwheretheprizeawaits
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Atfirst,thisseemedtobetheonlydirectreferencetothecontestintheentirealmanac.Butthen,buriedamongallthoseramblingjournalentriesandessaysonpopculture,Idiscoveredahiddenmessage.
ScatteredthroughoutthetextoftheAlmanacwereaseriesofmarkedletters.Eachoftheselettershadatiny,nearlyinvisible“notch”cutintoitsoutline.I’dfirstnoticedthesenotchestheyearafterHallidaydied.IwasreadingmyhardcopyoftheAlmanacatthetime,andsoatfirstIthoughtthenotcheswerenothingbuttinyprintingimperfections,perhapsduetothepaperortheancientprinterI’dusedtoprintouttheAlmanac.ButwhenIcheckedtheelectronic
versionofthebookavailableonHalliday’swebsite,Ifoundthesamenotchesontheexactsameletters.Andifyouzoomedinononeofthoseletters,thenotchesstoodoutasplainasday.
Hallidayhadputthemthere.He’dmarkedtheselettersforareason.
Thereturnedouttobeonehundredandtwelveofthesenotchedlettersscatteredthroughoutthebook.Bywritingthemdownintheordertheyappeared,Idiscoveredthattheyspelledsomething.InearlydiedofexcitementasIwroteitdowninmygraildiary:
TheCopperKeyawaitsexplorers
Inatombfilledwithhorrors
Butyouhavemuchtolearn
Ifyouhopetoearn
Aplaceamongthehighscorers
Otherguntershadalsodiscoveredthishiddenmessage,ofcourse,buttheywereallwiseenoughtokeepittothemselves.Forawhile,anyway.
AboutsixmonthsafterIdiscoveredthehiddenmessage,thisloudmouthMITfreshmanfoundittoo.HisnamewasStevenPendergast,andhedecidedtogethisfifteenminutesoffamebysharinghis“discovery”withthemedia.Thenewsfeedsbroadcastinterviewswiththismoronforamonth,eventhoughhedidn’thavethefirstclueaboutthemessage’smeaning.Afterthat,goingpublicwithacluebecameknownas“pullingaPendergast.”
Oncethemessagebecamepublicknowledge,guntersnicknamedit
“theLimerick.”Theentireworldhadknownaboutitforalmostfouryearsnow,butnooneseemedtounderstanditstruemeaning,andtheCopperKeystillhadyettobefound.
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earlyadventuregames,andeachofthoseriddleshadmadesenseinthecontextofitsgame.SoIdevotedanentiresectionofmygraildiarytodecipheringtheLimerick,linebyline.
TheCopperKeyawaitsexplorers
Thislineseemedprettystraightforward.NohiddenmeaningthatIcoulddetect.
Inatombfilledwithhorrors.
Thislinewastrickier.Takenatfacevalue,itseemedtosaythatthekeywashiddeninatombsomewhere,onefilledwithhorrifyingstuff.Butthen,duringthecourseofmyresearch,IdiscoveredanoldDungeons&
DragonssupplementcalledTombofHorrors,whichhadbeenpublishedin1978.FromthemomentIsawthetitle,IwascertainthesecondlineoftheLimerickwasareferencetoit.HallidayandMorrowhadplayedAdvancedDungeons&Dragonsallthroughhighschool,alongwithseveralotherpen-and-paperrole-playinggames,likeGURPS,Champions,CarWars,andRolemaster.
TombofHorrorswasathinbookletcalleda“module.”Itcontaineddetailedmapsandroom-by-roomdescriptionsofanundergroundlabyrinthinfestedwithundeadmonsters.D&Dplayerscouldexplorethelabyrinthwiththeircharactersasthedungeonmasterreadfromthemoduleandguidedthemthroughthestoryitcontained,describingeverythingtheysawandencounteredalongtheway.
AsIlearnedmoreabouthowtheseearlyrole-playinggamesworked,IrealizedthataD&DmodulewastheprimitiveequivalentofaquestintheOASIS.AndD&Dcharacterswerejustlikeavatars.Inaway,theseoldrole-playinggameshadbeenthefirstvirtual-realitysimulations,createdlongbeforecomputerswerepowerfulenoughtodothejob.Inthosedays,ifyouwantedtoescapetoanotherworld,youhadtocreateityourself,usingyourbrain,somepaper,pencils,dice,andafewrulebooks.Thisrealizationkindofblewmymind.ItchangedmywholeperspectiveontheHuntforHalliday’sEasteregg.Fromthenon,IbegantothinkoftheHuntasanelaborateD&Dmodule.AndHallidaywasobviouslythedungeonmaster,evenifhewasnowcontrollingthegamefrombeyondthegrave.
Ifoundadigitalcopyofthesixty-seven-year-oldTombofHorrorsmoduleburieddeepinanancientFTParchive.AsIstudiedit,Ibegantodevelopatheory:SomewhereintheOASIS,Hallidayhadre-createdtheTombofHorrors,andhe’dhiddentheCopperKeyinsideit.
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ofitsmapsandroomdescriptions,inanticipationofthedayIwouldfi-
nallyfigureoutwhereitwaslocated.Butthatwastherub:TheLimerickdidn’tappeartogiveanyhintastowhereHallidayhadhiddenthedamnthing.Theonlyclueseemedtobe“youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.”
IrecitedthosewordsoverandoverinmyheaduntilIwantedtohowlinfrustration.Muchtolearn.Yeah,OK,fine.Ihavemuchtolearnaboutwhat?
TherewereliterallythousandsofworldsintheOASIS,andHallidaycouldhavehiddenhisre-creationoftheTombofHorrorsonanyoneofthem.Searchingeveryplanet,onebyone,wouldtakeforever.EvenifI’dhadthemeanstodoso.
AplanetnamedGygaxinSectorTwoseemedliketheobviousplacetostartlooking.Hallidayhadcodedtheplanethimself,andhe’dnameditafterGaryGygax,oneofthecreatorsofDungeons&DragonsandtheauthoroftheoriginalTombofHorrorsmodule.AccordingtoGunterpedia(agunterwiki),theplanetGygaxwascoveredwithre-creationsofoldD&D
modules,butTombofHorrorswasnotoneofthem.Theredidn’tappeartobeare-creationofthetombonanyoftheotherD&D-themedworldsintheOASISeither.Guntershadturnedallofthoseplanetsupsidedownandscouredeverysquareinchoftheirsurfaces.Hadare-creationoftheTombofHorrorsbeenhiddenononeofthem,itwouldhavebeenfoundandloggedlongago.
Sothetombhadtobehiddensomewhereelse.AndIdidn’thavethefirstcluewhere.ButItoldmyselfthatifIjustkeptatitandcontinueddoingresearch,I’deventuallylearnwhatIneededtoknowtofigureoutthetomb’shidingplace.Infact,thatwasprobablywhatHallidaymeantby“youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.”
IfanyotherguntersouttheresharedmyinterpretationoftheLimerick,sofarthey’dbeensmartenoughtokeepquietaboutit.I’dneverseenanypostsabouttheTombofHorrorsonanyguntermessageboards.Irealized,ofcourse,thatthismightbebecausemytheoryabouttheoldD&D
modulewascompletelylameandtotallyoffbase.
SoI’dcontinuedtowatchandreadandlistenandstudy,preparingforthedaywhenIfinallystumbledacrossthecluethatwouldleadmetotheCopperKey.
Andthenitfinallyhappened.RightwhileIwassittingtheredaydream-inginLatinclass.
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Ourteacher,Ms.Rank,wasstandingatthefrontoftheclass,slowlyconjugatingLatinverbs.ShesaidtheminEnglishfirst,theninLatin,andeachwordautomaticallyappearedontheboardbehindherasshespokeit.Wheneverweweredoingtediousverbconjugation,IalwaysgotthelyricstoanoldSchoolhouseRock!songstuckinmyhead:“Torun,togo,toget,togive.Verb!You’rewhat’shappenin’!”
IwasquietlyhummingthistunetomyselfwhenMs.RankbegantoconjugatetheLatinfortheverb“tolearn.”“ToLearn.Discere,”shesaid.
“Now,thisoneshouldbeeasytoremember,becauseit’ssimilartotheEnglishword‘discern,’whichalsomeans‘tolearn.’”
Hearingherrepeatthephrase“tolearn”wasenoughtomakemethinkoftheLimerick.Youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.
Ms.Rankcontinued,usingtheverbinasentence.“Wegotoschooltolearn,”shesaid.“Petimusscholamutlitterasdiscamus.”
Andthatwaswhenithitme.Likeananvilfallingoutofthesky,directlyontomyskull.Igazedaroundatmyclassmates.Whatgroupofpeoplehas“muchtolearn”?
Students.High-schoolstudents.
Iwasonaplanetfilledwithstudents,allofwhomhad“muchtolearn.”
WhatiftheLimerickwassayingthatthetombwashiddenrighthere,onLudus?TheveryplanetwhereI’dbeentwiddlingmythumbsforthepastfiveyears?
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ThenIrememberedthatluduswasalsoaLatinword,meaning“school.”
IpulledupmyLatindictionarytodouble-checkthedefinition,andthatwaswhenIdiscoveredthewordhadmorethanonemeaning.Luduscouldmean“school,”butitcouldalsomean“sport”or“game.”
Game.
Ifelloutofmyfoldingchairandlandedwithathudonthefloorofmyhideout.MyOASISconsoletrackedthismovementandattemptedtomakemyavatardroptothefloorofmyLatinclassroom,buttheclassroomconductsoftwarepreventeditfrommovingandawarningflashedonmydisplay:pleaseremainseatedduringclass!
Itoldmyselfnottogettooexcited.Imightbejumpingtoconclusions.
TherewerehundredsofprivateschoolsanduniversitieslocatedonotherplanetsinsidetheOASIS.TheLimerickmightrefertooneofthem.ButIdidn’tthinkso.Ludusmademoresense.JamesHallidayhaddonatedbillionstofundthecreationoftheOASISpublicschoolsystemhere,asawaytodemonstratethehugepotentialoftheOASISasaneducationaltool.
Andpriortohisdeath,HallidayhadsetupafoundationtoensurethattheOASISpublicschoolsystemwouldalwayshavethemoneyitneededtooperate.TheHallidayLearningFoundationalsoprovidedimpoverishedchildrenaroundtheglobewithfreeOASIShardwareandInternetaccesssothattheycouldattendschoolinsidetheOASIS.
GSS’sownprogrammershaddesignedandconstructedLudusandalloftheschoolsonit.SoitwasentirelypossiblethatHallidaywastheonewho’dgiventheplanetitsname.Andhewouldalsohavehadaccesstotheplanet’ssourcecode,ifhe’dwantedtohidesomethinghere.
Therealizationscontinuedtodetonateinmybrainlikeatomicbombsgoingoff,oneafteranother.
AccordingtotheoriginalD&Dmodule,theentrancetotheTombofHorrorswashiddennear“alow,flat-toppedhill,abouttwohundredyardswideandthreehundredyardslong.”Thetopofthehillwascoveredwithlargeblackstonesthatwerearrangedinsuchawaythat,ifyouviewedthemfromagreatheight,theyresembledtheeyesockets,noseholes,andteethofahumanskull.
ButiftherewasahilllikethathiddensomewhereonLudus,wouldn’tsomeonehavestumbledacrossitbynow?
Maybenot.Ludushadhundredsoflargeforestsscatteredalloveritssurface,inthevastsectionsofemptylandthatstoodbetweenthethou-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd69
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sandsofschoolcampuses.Someoftheseforestswereenormous,coveringdozensofsquaremiles.Moststudentsneverevensetfootinsidethem,becausetherewasnothingofinteresttodoorseethere.Likeitsfieldsandriversandlakes,Ludus’sforestswerejustcomputer-generatedlandscap-ing,placedtheretofilluptheemptyspace.
Ofcourse,duringmyavatar’slongstayonLudus,I’dexploredafewoftheforestswithinwalkingdistanceofmyschool,outofboredom.Butalltheycontainedwerethousandsofrandomlygeneratedtreesandtheoccasionalbird,rabbit,orsquirrel.(Thesetinycreaturesweren’tworthanyexperiencepointsifyoukilledthem.I’dchecked.)Soitwasentirelypossiblethatsomewhere,hiddeninoneofLudus’slarge,unexploredpatchesofforestland,therewasasmallstone-coveredhillthatresembledahumanskull.
ItriedpullingupamapofLudusonmydisplay,butIcouldn’t.Thesystemwouldn’tletme,becauseclasswasstillinsession.ThehackIusedtoaccessbooksintheschool’sonlinelibrarydidn’tworkfortheOASIS
atlassoftware.
“Shit!”Iblurtedoutinfrustration.Theclassroomconductsoftwarefilteredthisout,soneitherMs.Ranknormyclassmatesheardit.Butanotherwarningflashedonmydisplay:profanitymuted—misconductwarning!
Ilookedatthetimeonmydisplay.Exactlyseventeenminutesandtwentysecondsleftuntiltheendoftheschoolday.Isattherewithclenchedteethandcountedoffeachsecond,mymindstillracing.
LuduswasaninconspicuousworldinSectorOne.Therewasn’tsupposedtobeanythingbutschoolshere,sothiswasthelastplaceagunterwouldthinktolookfortheCopperKey.ItwasdefinitelythelastplaceIhadeverthoughttolook,andthataloneproveditwasaperfecthidingplace.ButwhywouldHallidayhavechosentohidetheCopperKeyhere?
Unless...
He’dwantedaschoolkidtofindit.
Iwasstillreelingfromtheimplicationsofthatthoughtwhenthebellfinallyrang.Aroundme,theotherstudentsbegantofileoutoftheroomorvanishintheirseats.Ms.Rank’savataralsodisappeared,andinmomentsIwasallaloneintheclassroom.
IpulledupamapofLudusonmydisplay.Itappearedasathree-dimensionalglobefloatinginfrontofme,andIgaveitaspinwithmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd70
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hand.LuduswasarelativelysmallplanetbyOASISstandards,aboutathirdthe
sizeofEarth’smoon,withacircumferenceofexactlyonethousandkilometers.Asinglecontiguouscontinentcoveredthesurface.Therewerenooceans,justafewdozenlargelakesplacedhereandthere.SinceOASISplanetsweren’treal,theydidn’thavetoobeythelawsofnature.
OnLudus,itwasperpetuallydaytime,regardlessofwhereyoustoodonthesurface,andtheskywasalwaysaperfectcloudlessblue.Thestation-arysunthathungoverheardwasnothingbutavirtuallightsource,programmedintotheimaginarysky.
Onthemap,theschoolcampusesappearedasthousandsofidenticalnumberedrectanglesdottingtheplanet’ssurface.Theywereseparatedbyrollinggreenfields,rivers,mountainranges,andforests.Theforestswereofallshapesandsizes,andmanyofthemborderedoneoftheschools.
Nexttothemap,IpulleduptheTombofHorrorsmodule.Nearthefront,itcontainedacrudeillustrationofthehillconcealingthetomb.Itookascreenshotofthisillustrationandplaceditinthecornerofmydisplay.
IfranticallysearchedmyfavoritewarezsitesuntilIfoundahigh-endimage-recognitionplug-infortheOASISatlas.OnceIdownloadedthesoftwareviaGuntorrent,ittookmeafewmoreminutestofigureouthowtomakeitscantheentiresurfaceofLudusforahillwithlargeblackstonesarrangedinaskull-likepattern.Onewithasize,shape,andappearancethatmatchedtheillustrationfromtheTombofHorrorsmodule.
Afterabouttenminutesofsearching,thesoftwarehighlightedapossiblematch.
IheldmybreathasIplacedtheclose-upimagefromtheLudusmapbesidetheillustrationfromtheD&Dmodule.Theshapeofthehillandtheskullpatternofthestonesbothmatchedtheillustrationperfectly.
Idecreasedthemagnificationonthemapabit,thenpulledbackfarenoughtoconfirmthatthenorthernedgeofthehillendedinacliffofsandandcrumblinggravel.JustlikeintheoriginalDungeons&Dragonsmodule.
Iletoutatriumphantyellthatechoedintheemptyclassroomandbouncedoffthewallsofmytinyhideout.I’ddoneit.I’dactuallyfoundtheTombofHorrors!
WhenIfinallymanagedtocalmdown,Ididsomequickcalculations.
Thehillwasnearthecenterofalargeamoeba-shapedforestlocatedontheoppositesideofLudus,overfourhundredkilometersfrommyschool.
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Myavatarcouldrunatamaximumspeedoffivekilometersanhour,soitwouldtakemeoverthreedaystogetthereonfootifIrannonstoptheentiretime.IfIcouldteleport,Icouldbetherewithinminutes.Thefarewouldn’tbemuchforsuchashortdistance,maybeafewhundredcredits.
Unfortunately,thatwasstillmorethanmycurrentOASISaccountbalance,whichwasabigfatzero.
Iconsideredmyoptions.Aechwouldlendmethemoneyforthefare,butIdidn’twanttoaskforhishelp.IfIcouldn’treachthetombonmyown,Ididn’tdeservetoreachitatall.Besides,I’dhavetolietoAechaboutwhatthemoneywasfor,andsinceI’dneveraskedhimforaloanbefore,anyexcuseIgavewouldmakehimsuspicious.
ThinkingaboutAech,Icouldn’thelpbutsmile.Hewasreallygoingtofreakwhenhefoundoutaboutthis.Thetombwashiddenlessthansev-entykilometersfromhisschool!Practicallyhisbackyard.
Thatthoughttriggeredanidea,onethatmademeleaptomyfeet.Iranoutoftheclassroomanddownthehall.
NotonlyhadIfiguredoutawaytoteleporttotheothersideofLudus,Iknewhowtogetmyschooltopayforit.
EachOASISpublicschoolhadabunchofdifferentathleticteams,includingwrestling,soccer,football,baseball,volleyball,andafewothersportsthatcouldn’tbeplayedintherealworld,likeQuidditchandzero-gravityCapturetheFlag.Studentswentoutfortheseteamsjustliketheydidatschoolsintherealworld,andtheyplayedusingelaboratesports-capablehapticrigsthatrequired
themtoactuallydoalloftheirownrunning,jumping,kicking,tackling,andsoon.Theteamshadnightlypractice,heldpeprallies,andtraveledtootherschoolsonLudustocompeteagainstthem.Ourschoolgaveoutfreeteleportationvoucherstoanystudentwhowantedtoattendanawaygame,sowecouldsitupinthestandsandrootforoldOPS#1873.I’donlytakenadvantageofthisonce,whenourCapturetheFlagteamhadplayedagainstAech’sschoolintheOPSchampionships.
WhenIarrivedintheschooloffice,IscannedtheactivitiesscheduleandfoundwhatIwaslookingforrightaway.Thatevening,ourfootballteamwasplayinganawaygameagainstOPS#0571,whichwaslocatedroughlyanhour’srunfromtheforestwherethetombwashidden.
Ireachedoutandselectedthegame,andateleportationvoucherinstantlyappearedinmyavatar’sinventory,goodforonefreeround-triptoOPS#0571.
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Istoppedatmylockerlongenoughtodropoffmytextbooksandgrabmyflashlight,sword,shield,andarmor.ThenIsprintedoutthefrontentranceandacrosstheexpansivegreenlawninfrontoftheschool.
WhenIreachedtheredborderlinethatmarkedtheedgeoftheschoolgrounds,Iglancedaroundtomakesurenoonewaswatchingme,thensteppedacrosstheline.AsIdid,thewade3nametagfloatingabovemyheadchangedtoreadparzival.NowthatIwasoffschoolgrounds,Icouldusemyavatarnameonceagain.Icouldalsoturnoffmynametagcompletely,whichwaswhatIdidnow,becauseIwantedtotravelincognito.
Thenearesttransportterminalwasashortwalkfromtheschool,attheendofacobblestonepath.Itwasalargedomedpavilionsupportedbyadozenivorypillars.EachpillarboreanOASISteleportationicon,acapital“T”inthecenterofabluehexagon.Schoolhadonlybeenoutforafewminutesnow,sotherewasasteadystreamofavatarsfilingintotheterminal.Insidewerelongrowsofblue
teleportationbooths.TheirshapeandcoloralwaysremindedmeofDoctorWho’sTARDIS.IsteppedintothefirstemptyboothIsaw,andthedoorsclosedautomatically.Ididn’tneedtoentermydestinationonthetouchscreenbecauseitwasalreadyencodedonmyvoucher.IjustslidthevoucherintoaslotandaworldmapofLudusappearedonthescreen,showingalinefrommypresentlocationtomydestination,aflashinggreendotnexttoOPS#0571.TheboothinstantlycalculatedthedistanceIwouldbetraveling(462kilometers)andtheamountmyschoolwouldbeinvoicedforthefare(103credits).Thevoucherwasverified,thefareshowedaspaid,andmyavatarvanished.
Iinstantlyreappearedinanidenticalbooth,insideanidenticaltransportterminalontheoppositesideoftheplanet.AsIranoutside,IspottedOPS#0571offtothesouth.Itlookedexactlylikemyownschool,exceptthesurroundinglandscapewasdifferent.Ispottedsomestudentsfrommyschool,walkingtowardthenearbyfootballstadium,ontheirwaytowatchthegameandrootforourteam.Iwasn’tsurewhytheybothered.
Theycouldjustaseasilyhavewatchedthegameviavidfeed.AndanyemptyseatsinthestandswouldbefilledwithrandomlygeneratedNPC
fanswhowouldwolfdownvirtualsodasandhotdogswhilecheeringwildly.Occasionally,theywouldevendo“thewave.”
Iwasalreadyrunningintheoppositedirection,acrossarollinggreenfieldthatstretchedoutbehindtheschool.Asmallmountainrangeloomedinthedistance,andIcouldseetheamoeba-shapedforestatitsbase.
Iturnedonmyavatar’sautorunfeature,thenopenedmyinventoryandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd73
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selectedthreeoftheitemslistedthere.Myarmorappearedonmybody,myshieldappearedinaslingonmyback,andmyswordappearedinitsscabbard,hangingatmyside.
Iwasalmosttotheedgeoftheforestwhenmyphonerang.TheIDsaiditwasAech.ProbablycallingtoseewhyIhadn’tloggedintotheBasementyet.ButifIansweredthecall,hewouldseealivevideofeedofmyavatar,runningacrossafieldattopspeed,withOPS#0571shrinkinginthedistancebehindme.Icouldconcealmycurrentlocationbytakingthecallasaudioonly,butthatmightmakehimsuspicious.SoIletthecallrolltomyvidmail.Aech’sfaceappearedinasmallwindowonmydisplay.HewascallingfromaPvParenasomewhere.Dozensofavatarswerelockedinfiercecombatonamultitieredplayingfieldbehindhim.
“Yo,Z!Whatareyouupto?JerkingofftoLadyhawke?”HeflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Givemeashout.I’mstillplanningtopopsomecornandhaveaSpacedmarathon.Youdown?”Hehungupandhisimagewinkedout.
Isentatext-onlyreply,sayingIhadatonofhomeworkandcouldn’thangtonight.ThenIpulleduptheTombofHorrorsmoduleandbegantoreadthroughitagain,pagebypage.Ididthisslowlyandcarefully,becauseIwasprettysureitcontainedadetaileddescriptionofeverythingIwasabouttoface.
“Inthefarreachesoftheworld,underalostandlonelyhill,”readthemodule’sintroduction,“liesthesinistertombofhorrors.Thislabyrin-thinecryptisfilledwithterribletraps,strangeandferociousmonsters,richandmagicaltreasures,andsomewherewithinreststheevilDemi-Lich.”
Thatlastbitworriedme.Alichwasanundeadcreature,usuallyanincrediblypowerfulwizardorkingwhohademployeddarkmagictobindhisintellecttohisownreanimatedcorpse,thusachievingapervertedformofimmortality.I’dencounteredlichesincountlessvideogamesandfantasynovels.Theyweretobeavoidedatallcosts.
Istudiedthemapofthetombandthedescriptionsofitsmanyrooms.
Thetomb’sentrancewasburiedinthesideofacrumblingcliff.Atunnelleddownintoalabyrinthofthirty-threeroomsandchambers,eachfilledwithavarietyofviciousmonsters,deadlytraps,and(mostlycursed)treasure.Ifyousomehowmanagedtosurviveallofthetrapsandfindyourwaythroughthelabyrinth,youwouldeventuallyreachthecryptofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd74
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AcereraktheDemi-Lich.Theroomwaslitteredwithtreasure,butifyoutouchedit,theundeadKingAcererakappearedandopenedupacanofundeadwhup-assonyou.If,bysomemiracle,youmanagedtodefeatthelich,youcouldtakehistreasureandleavethedungeon.Missionaccomplished,questcompleted.
IfHallidayhadre-createdtheTombofHorrorsjustasitwasdescribedinthemodule,Iwasinbigtrouble.Myavatarwasathird-levelwimp,withnonmagicalweaponsandtwenty-sevenmeaslyhitpoints.Nearlyallofthetrapsandmonstersdescribedinthemodulecouldkillmeeasily.AndifIsomehowmanagedtomakeitpastallofthemandreachthecrypt,theultrapowerfullichcouldkillmyavatarinseconds,justbylookingathim.
ButIhadafewthingsgoingforme.First,Ireallydidn’thavemuchtolose.Ifmyavatarwaskilled,Iwouldlosemysword,shield,andleatherarmor,andthethreelevelsI’dmanagedtogainoverthepastfewyears.I’dhavetocreateanewfirst-levelavatar,whichwouldspawnatmylastlog-inlocation,infrontofmyschoollocker.ButthenIcouldjustreturntothetombandtryagain.Andagainandagain,everynight,collectingXPsandincreasinginlevelsuntilIfinallyfiguredoutwheretheCopperKeywashidden.(Therewasnosuchthingasabackupavatar.OASISuserscouldhaveonlyoneavataratatime.Itwaspossibleforhackerstousemoddedvisorstospooftheirretinalpatternsandthuscreateasecondaccountforthemselves.Butifyougotcaught,you’dbebannedfromtheOASISforlife,andyou’dalsobedisqualifiedfromparticipatinginHalliday’scontest.Nogunterwouldevertakethatrisk.)
Myotheradvantage(Ihoped)wasthatIknewexactlywhattoexpectonceIenteredthetomb,becausethemoduleprovidedmewithadetailedmapoftheentirelabyrinth.Italsotoldmewhereallthetrapswerelocated,andhowtodisarmoravoidthem.Ialsoknewwhichroomscontainedmonsters,andwherealloftheweaponsandtreasurewerehidden.Unless,ofcourse,Hallidayhadchangedthingsaround.ThenIwasscrewed.Butatthemoment,Iwasfartooexcitedtobeworried.Afterall,I’djustmadethebiggest,mostimportantdiscoveryofmylife.IwasjustafewminutesawayfromthehidingplaceoftheCopperKey!
Ifinallyreachedtheedgeoftheforestandraninside.Itwasfilledwiththousandsofperfectlyrenderedmaples,oaks,spruces,andtama-racks.ThetreeslookedasthoughtheyhadbeengeneratedandplacedusingstandardOASISlandscapetemplates,butthedetailputintothemClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd75
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wasstunning.Istoppedtoexamineoneofthetreescloselyandsawantscrawlingalongtheintricateridgesinitsbark.ItookthisasasignIwasontherighttrack.
Therewasnopaththroughtheforest,soIkeptthemapinthecornerofmydisplayandfollowedittotheskull-toppedhillthatmarkedthetombentrance.Itwasrightwherethemapsaiditwouldbe,inalargegladeatthecenteroftheforest.AsIsteppedintotheclearing,myheartfeltlikeitwastryingtobeatitswayoutofmyribcage.
Iclimbedupontothelowhilltop,anditwaslikesteppingintotheillustrationfromtheD&Dmodule.Hallidayhadreproducedeverythingexactly.Twelvemassiveblackstoneswerearrangedonthehilltopinthesamepattern,resemblingthefeaturesofahumanskull.
IwalkedtothenorthernedgeofthehilltopanddescendedthecrumblingclifffaceIfoundthere.Byconsultingthemodulemap,Iwasabletolocatetheexactspotinthecliffwheretheentrancetothetombwassupposedtobeburied.Then,usingmyshieldasashovel,Ibegantodig.
Withinafewminutes,Iuncoveredthemouthofatunnelthatledintoadarkundergroundcorridor.Thefloorofthecorridorwasamosaicofcolorfulstones,withawindingpathofredtilessetintoit.Onceagain,justlikeintheD&Dmodule.
ImovedtheTombofHorrorsdungeonmaptothetoprightcornerofmydisplayandmadeitslightlytransparent.ThenIstrappedmyshieldtomybackandtookoutmyflashlight.Iglancedaroundoncemoretomakesurenoonewas
watchingme;then,clutchingmyswordinmyotherhand,IenteredtheTombofHorrors.
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Thewallsofthecorridorleadingintothetombwerecoveredwithdozensofstrangepaintingsdepictingenslavedhumans,orcs,elves,andothercreatures.EachfrescoappearedintheexactlocationdescribedintheoriginalD&Dmodule.Iknewthathiddeninthetiledstonesurfaceofthefloorwereseveralspring-loadedtrapdoors.Ifyousteppedonone,itsnappedopenanddroppedyouintoapitfilledwithpoisonedironspikes.
Butbecausethelocationofeachhiddentrapdoorwasclearlymarkedonmymap,Iwasabletoavoidallofthem.
Sofar,everythinghadfollowedtheoriginalmoduletotheletter.Ifthesamewastruefortherestofthetomb,ImightbeabletosurvivelongenoughtolocatetheCopperKey.Therewereonlyafewmonsterslurkinginthisdungeon—agargoyle,askeleton,azombie,someasps,amummy,andtheevildemi-lichAcererakhimself.Sincethemaptoldmewhereeachofthemwashiding,Ishouldbeabletoavoidfightingthem.Unless,ofcourse,oneofthemwasguardingtheCopperKey.AndIcouldalreadyguesswhoprobablyhadthathonor.
Itriedtoproceedcarefully,asifIhadnoideawhattoexpect.
AvoidingtheSphereofAnnihilationlocatedattheendofthecorridor,Ilocatedahiddendoorbesidethelastpittrap.Itopenedintoasmallslopingpassageway.Myflashlightreachedintothedarknessahead,flickeringoffthedampstonewalls.MysurroundingsmademefeellikeIwasinalow-budgetsword-and-sorceryflick,likeHawktheSlayerorTheBeastmaster.
Ibegantomakemywaythroughthedungeon,roombyroom.EvenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd77
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thoughIknewwhereallofthetrapswerelocated,Istillhadtoproceedcarefullytoavoidthemall.Inadark,forbiddingchamberknownastheChapelofEvil,Ifoundthousandsofgoldandsilvercoinshiddeninthepews,rightwheretheyweresupposedtobe.Itwasmoremoneythanmyavatarcouldcarry,evenwiththeBagofHoldingthatIfound.IgatheredupasmanyofthegoldcoinsasIcouldandtheyappearedinmyinventory.
Thecurrencywasautomaticallyconvertedandmycreditcounterjumpedtoovertwentythousand,byfarthelargestamountofmoneyI’deverhad.
Andinadditiontothecredits,myavatarreceivedanequalnumberofexperiencepointsforobtainingthecoins.
AsIcontinueddeeperintothetomb,Iobtainedseveralmagicitemsalongtheway.A+1FlamingSword.AGemofSeeing.A+1RingofProtection.Ievenfoundasuitof+3FullPlatearmor.Thesewerethefirstmagicitemsmyavatarhadeverpossessed,andtheymademefeelunstoppable.
WhenIputonthesuitofmagicalarmor,itshranktofitmyavatarperfectly.Itsgleamingchromeappearanceremindedmeofthebad-assarmorwornbytheknightsinExcalibur.Iactuallyswitchedtoathird-personviewforafewseconds,justtoadmirehowcoolmyavatarlookedwearingit.
ThefartherIwent,themoreconfidentIbecame.Thetomb’slayoutandcontentscontinuedtomatchthemoduledescriptionexactly,downtothelastdetail.Thatis,untilIreachedthePillaredThroneRoom.
Itwasalargesquarechamberwithahighceiling,filledwithdozensofmassivestonecolumns.Ahugeraiseddaisstoodatthefarendoftheroom,atopwhichrestedanobsidianthroneinlaidwithsilverandivoryskulls.
Allthismatchedthemoduledescriptionexactly,withonehugedifference.Thethronewassupposedtobeempty,butitwasn’t.Thedemi-lichAcererakwassittingonit,glaringdownatmesilently.Adustygoldcrownglintedonhis
witheredhead.HeappearedexactlyashedidonthecoveroftheoriginalTombofHorrorsmodule.Butaccordingtoitstext,Acererakwasn’tsupposedtobehere.Hewassupposedtobewaitinginaburialchambermuchdeeperinthedungeon.
Iconsideredrunningbutdecidedagainstit.IfHallidayhadplacedthelichinthisroom,perhapshe’dplacedtheCopperKeyheretoo.Ihadtofindout.
Iwalkedacrossthechambertothefootofthedais.FromhereIcouldClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd78
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seethelichmoreclearly.Histeethweretworowsofpointedcutdiamondsarrayedinaliplessgrin,andalargerubywassetineachofhiseyesockets.
Forthefirsttimesinceenteringthetomb,Iwasn’tsurewhattodonext.
Mychancesofsurvivingone-on-onecombatwithademi-lichwerenonexistent.Mywimpy+1FlamingSwordcouldn’tevenaffecthim,andthetwomagicrubiesinhiseyesocketshadthepowertosuckoutmyavatar’slifeforceandkillmeinstantly.Evenapartyofsixorsevenhigh-levelavatarswouldhavehadadifficulttimedefeatinghim.
Isilentlywished(notforthelasttime)thattheOASISwaslikeanoldadventuregameandthatIcouldsavemyplace.Butitwasn’t,andIcouldn’t.Ifmyavatardiedhere,itwouldmeanstartingoverwithnothing.Buttherewasnopointinhesitatingnow.Ifthelichkilledme,Iwouldcomebacktomorrownightandtryagain.TheentiretombshouldresetwhentheOASISserverclockstruckmidnight.Ifitdid,allofthehiddentrapsI’ddisarmedwouldresetthemselves,andthetreasureandmagicitemswouldreappear.
ItappedtheRecordiconattheedgeofmydisplaysothatwhateverhappenednextwouldbestoredinavidcapfileIcouldplaybackandstudylater.ButwhenItappedtheicon,Igotarecordingnotallowedmessage.ItseemedthatHallidayhaddisabledrecordinginsidethetomb.
Itookadeepbreath,raisedmysword,andplacedmyrightfootonthebottomstepofthedais.AsIdid,therewasasoundlikecrackingbonesasAcererakslowlyliftedhishead.Therubiesinhiseyesocketsbegantoglowwithanintenseredlight.Itookseveralstepsbackward,expectinghimtoleapdownandattackme.Buthedidn’trisefromhisthrone.Instead,heloweredhisheadandfixedmewithhischillinggaze.“Greetings,Parzival,”hesaidinaraspingvoice.“Whatisitthatyouseek?”
Thiscaughtmeoffguard.Accordingtothemodule,thelichwouldn’tspeak.Hewasjustsupposedtoattack,leavingmewithnochoicebuttokillhimorrunformylife.
“IseektheCopperKey,”Ireplied.ThenIrememberedIwasspeakingtoaking,soIquicklybowedmyhead,droppedtooneknee,andadded,
“YourMajesty.”
“Ofcourseyoudo,”Acereraksaid,motioningformetorise.“Andyou’vecometotherightplace.”Hestood,andhismummifiedskincrackedlikeoldleatherashemoved.Iclutchedmyswordmoretightly,stillanticipatinganattack.
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“HowcanIknowthatyouareworthyofpossessingtheCopperKey?”
heasked.
Holyshit!HowthehellwasIsupposedtoanswerthat?AndwhatifIgavethewronganswer?Wouldhesuckoutmysoulandincinerateme?
Irackedmybrainforasuitablereply.ThebestIcouldcomeupwithwas,“Allowmetoprovemyworth,nobleAcererak.”
Thelichletoutalong,disturbingcacklethatechoedoffthechamber’sstone
walls.“Verywell!”hesaid.“Youshallproveyourworthbyfacingmeinajoust!”
I’dneverheardofanundeadlichkingchallengingsomeonetoajoust.
Especiallynotinasubterraneanburialchamber.“Allright,”Isaiduncertainly.“Butwon’twebeneedinghorsesforthat?”
“Nothorses,”hereplied,steppingawayfromhisthrone.“Birds.”
Hewavedaskeletalhandathisthrone.Therewasabriefflashoflight,accompaniedbyatransformationsoundeffect(whichIwasprettysurehadbeenliftedfromtheoldSuperFriendscartoon).Thethronemeltedandmorphedintoanoldcoin-operatedvideogamecabinet.Twojoysticksprotrudedfromitscontrolpanel,oneyellowandoneblue.Icouldn’thelpbutgrinasIreadthenameonthegame’sbacklitmarquee:joust.WilliamsElectronics,1982.
“Besttwooutofthreegames,”Acererakrasped.“Ifyouwin,Ishallgrantyouwhatyouseek.”
“Whatifyouwin?”Iasked,alreadyknowingtheanswer.
“IfIamvictorious,”thelichsaid,therubiesinhiseyesocketsblazingevenbrighter,“thenyoushalldie!”Aballofswirlingorangeflameappearedinhisrighthand.Heraiseditthreateningly.
“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Thatwasmyfirstguess.Justwantedtodouble-check.”
ThefireballinAcererak’shandvanished.Hestretchedouthisleatherypalm,whichnowheldtwoshinyquarters.“Thegamesareonme,”hesaid.HesteppeduptotheJoustmachineanddroppedbothquartersintotheleftcoinslot.Thegameemittedtwolowelectronicchimesandthecreditcounterjumpedfromzerototwo.
Acereraktookholdoftheyellowjoystickontheleftsideofthecontrolpanelandclosedhisbonyfingersaroundit.“Artthouready?”hecroaked.
“Yeah,”Isaid,takingadeepbreath.IcrackedmyknucklesandgrabbedthePlayerTwojoystickwithmylefthand,poisingmyrighthandovertheFlapbutton.
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Acererakrockedhisheadfromlefttoright,crackinghisneck.Itsoundedlikeasnappingtreebranch.ThenheslappedtheTwoPlayerbuttonandthejoustbegan.
Joustwasaclassic’80sarcadegamewithastrangepremise.Eachplayercontrolsaknightarmedwithalance.PlayerOneismountedonanostrich,whilePlayerTwoismountedonastork.Youflapyourwingstoflyaroundthescreenand“joust”withtheotherplayer,andalsoagainstseveralcomputer-controlledenemyknights(whoareallmountedonbuzzards).
Whenyoucrashintoanopponent,whoever’slanceishigheronthescreenwinsthejoust.Theloseriskilledandlosesalife.Wheneveryoukilloneoftheenemyknights,hisbuzzardcrapsoutagreeneggthatquicklyhatchesintoanotherenemyknightifyoudon’tscoopitupintime.There’salsoawingedpterodactylthatappearsonceinawhiletowreakhavoc.
Ihadn’tplayedJoustinoverayear.ItwasoneofAech’sfavoritegames,andforawhilehe’dhadaJoustcabinetinhischatroom.Heusedtochallengemetoagamewheneverhewantedtosettleanargumentorsomeasininepop-culturedispute.Forafewmonths,weplayedalmosteveryday.Inthebeginning,AechwasslightlybetterthanIwas,andhehadahabitofgloatingoverhisvictories.Thishadreallyirkedme,soIstartedpracticingJoustonmyown,playingafewgamesanightagainstanAIopponent.IhonedmyskillsuntilIfinallygotgoodenoughtobeatAech,repeatedlyandconsistently.ThenIbegantogloatoverhim,savoringmyrevenge.Thelasttimewe’dplayed,I’drubbedhisnoseindefeatsomercilesslythathe’dflippedoutandvowednevertoplaymeagain.Sincethen,we’dusedStreetFighterIItosettleourdisputes.
MyJoustskillswerealotrustierthanIthought.Ispentthefirstfiveminutesjusttryingtorelaxandtoreacquaintmyselfwiththecontrolsandtherhythmofthegame.Duringthistime,Acererakmanagedtokillmetwice,mercilesslyslamminghiswingedmountintomineattheperfecttrajectory.Hehandledthe
game’scontrolswiththecalculatedperfectionofamachine.Which,ofcourse,wasexactlywhathewas—cutting-edgeNPCartificialintelligence,programmedbyHallidayhimself.
Bytheendofourfirstgame,themovesandtricksI’dpickedupduringallthosemarathonboutswithAechwerestartingtocomebacktome.ButAcererakdidn’tneedawarm-up.Hewasinperfectformfromtheoutset,andtherewasnowayIcouldmakeupformyweakshowingatthestartofthegame.HekilledoffmylastmanbeforeIevencleared30,000points.
Embarrassing.
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“Onegamedown,Parzival,”hesaid,flashingarictusgrin.“Onemoretogo.”
Hedidn’twastetimebymakingmestandthereandwatchhimplayouttherestofhisgame.Hereachedupandfoundthepowerswitchattherearofthegamecabinet,thenflippeditoffandbackon.AfterthescreencycledthroughitschromaticWilliamsElectronicsboot-upsequence,hesnatchedtwomorequartersoutofthinairanddroppedthemintothegame.
“Artthouready?”heinquiredagain,hunchingoverthecontrolpanel.
Ihesitatedamoment,thenasked,“Actually,wouldyoumindifweswitchedsides?I’musedtoplayingontheleft.”
Itwastrue.WhenAechandIplayedintheBasement,Ialwaystooktheostrichside.Beingontherightsideduringthefirstgamehadscrewedupmyrhythmabit.
Acererakappearedtoconsidermyrequestforamoment.Thenhenodded.“Certainly,”hesaid.Hesteppedbackfromthecabinetandweswitchedsides.Itsuddenlyoccurredtomejusthowabsurdthisscenewas:aguywearingasuitof
armor,standingnexttoanundeadking,bothhunchedoverthecontrolsofaclassicarcadegame.Itwasthesortofsurrealimageyou’dexpecttoseeonthecoverofanoldissueofHeavyMetalorDragonmagazine.
AcererakslappedtheTwoPlayerbutton,andmyeyeslockedonthescreen.
Thenextgamestartedoutbadlyformetoo.Myopponent’smovementswererelentlessandprecise,andIspentthefirstfewwavesjusttryingtoevadehim.IwasalsodistractedbytheincessantclickofhisskeletalindexfingerashetappedhisFlapbutton.
Iunclenchedmyjawandclearedmymind,forcingmyselfnottothinkaboutwhereIwas,whoIwasplayingagainst,orwhatwasatstake.ItriedtoimaginethatIwasbackintheBasement,playingagainstAech.
Itworked.Islippedintothezone,andthetidebegantoturninmyfavor.Ibegantofindtheflawsinthelich’splayingstyle,theholesinhisprogramming.ThiswassomethingI’dlearnedovertheyears,masteringhundredsofdifferentvideogames.Therewasalwaysatricktobeatingacomputer-controlledopponent.Atagamelikethis,agiftedhumanplayercouldalwaystriumphoverthegame’sAI,becausesoftwarecouldn’tim-provise.Itcouldeitherreactrandomly,orinalimitednumberofprede-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd82
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terminedways,basedonafinitenumberofpreprogrammedconditions.
Thiswasanaxiominvideogames,andwouldbeuntilhumansinventedtrueartificialintelligence.
Oursecondgamecamerightdowntothewire,butbytheendofit,I’dspottedapatterntothelich’splayingtechnique.Bychangingmyostrich’sdirectionatacertainmoment,Icouldgethimtoslamhisstorkintooneoftheoncomingbuzzards.Byrepeatingthismove,Iwasabletopickoffhisextralives,onebyone.Idiedseveraltimesmyselfintheprocess,butIfinallytookhimdown
duringthetenthwave,withnoextralivesofmyowntospare.
Isteppedbackfromthemachineandsighedwithrelief.Icouldfeelrivuletsofsweatrunningdownmyforeheadandaroundtheedgeofmyvisor.Iwipedatmyfacewiththesleeveofmyshirt,andmyavatarmim-ickedthismotion.
“Goodgame,”Acereraksaid.Then,tomysurprise,heofferedmehiswitheredclawofahand.Ishookit,chucklingnervouslyasIdidso.
“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Goodgame,man.”Itoccurredtomethat,inaweirdway,IwasactuallyplayingagainstHalliday.Iquicklypushedthethoughtoutofmyhead,afraidImightpsychmyselfout.
AcererakonceagainproducedtwoquartersanddroppedthemintotheJoustmachine.“Thisoneisforallthemarbles,”hesaid.“Artthouready?”
Inodded.Thistime,ItookthelibertyofslappingtheTwoPlayerbuttonmyself.
Ourfinaltie-breakinggamelastedlongerthanthefirsttwocombined.
Duringthefinalwave,somanybuzzardsfilledthescreenthatitwashardtomovewithoutgettingdustedbyoneofthem.ThelichandIfacedoffonefinaltime,attheverytopoftheplayingfield,bothofusincessantlyhittingourFlapbuttonswhileslammingourjoysticksleftandright.
Acererakmadeafinal,desperatemovetoavoidmychargeanddroppedamicrometertoolow.Hisfinalmountdiedinatinypixelatedexplosion.
playertwogameoverappearedonthescreen,andthelichletoutalongbloodcurdlinghowlofrage.HesmashedanangryfistintothesideoftheJoustcabinet,shatteringitintoamilliontinypixelsthatscatteredandbouncedacrossthefloor.Thenheturnedtofaceme.“Congratulations,Parzival,”hesaid,bowinglow.“Youplayedwell.”
“Thankyou,nobleAcererak,”Ireplied,resistingtheurgetojumpupanddownandshakemyassvictoriouslyinhisgeneraldirection.Instead,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd83
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Isolemnlyreturnedhisbow.AsIdid,thelichtransformedintoatallhumanwizarddressedinflowingblackrobes.Irecognizedhimimmediately.ItwasHalliday’savatar,Anorak.
Istaredathim,utterlyspeechless.ForyearsguntershadspeculatedthatAnorakstillroamedtheOASIS,nowasanautonomousNPC.Halliday’sghostinthemachine.
“Now,”thewizardsaid,speakingwithHalliday’sfamiliarvoice.“Yourreward.”
Thechamberfilledwiththesoundofafullorchestra.Triumphanthornswerequicklyjoinedbyastirringstringsection.Irecognizedthemusic.ItwasthelasttrackfromJohnWilliams’soriginalStarWarsscore,usedinthescenewherePrincessLeiagivesLukeandHantheirmedals(andChewbacca,asyoumayrecall,getstheshaft).
Asthemusicbuilttoacrescendo,Anorakstretchedouthisrighthand.
There,restinginhisopenpalm,wastheCopperKey,theitemforwhichmillionsofpeoplehadbeensearchingforthepastfiveyears.Ashehandedittome,themusicfadedout,andinthesameinstant,Iheardachimesound.I’djustgainedfiftythousandexperiencepoints,enoughtoraisemyavatarallthewayuptotenthlevel.
“Farewell,SirParzival,”Anoraksaid.“Ibidyougoodluckonyourquest.”AndbeforeIcouldaskwhatIwassupposedtodonext,orwhereIcouldfindthefirstgate,hisavatarvanishedinaflashoflight,accompaniedbyateleportationsoundeffectIknewwasliftedfromtheold’80sDungeons&Dragonscartoon.
Ifoundmyselfstandingaloneontheemptydais.IlookeddownattheCopperKeyinmyhandandfeltovercomewithwonderandelation.ItlookedjustasithadinAnorak’sInvitation:asimpleantiquecopperkey,itsoval-shapedbowembossedwiththeromannumeral“I.”Iturneditoverinmyavatar’shand,watchingthetorchlightplayacrosstheromannumeral,andthatwaswhenIspottedtwosmalllinesoftextengravedintothemetal.Itiltedthekeyuptothelightandreadthemaloud:“Whatyouseeklieshiddeninthetrashonthedeepest
levelofDaggorath.”
Ididn’tevenneedtoreaditasecondtime.Iinstantlyunderstooditsmeaning.IknewexactlywhereIneededtogoandwhatIwouldhavetodoonceIgotthere.
“Hiddeninthetrash”wasareferencetotheancientTRS-80lineofcomputersmadebyTandyandRadioShackinthe’70sand’80s.Com-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd84
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puterusersofthaterahadgiventheTRS-80thederogatorynicknameof
“Trash80.”
Whatyouseeklieshiddeninthetrash.
Halliday’sfirstcomputerhadbeenaTRS-80,withawhopping16KofRAM.AndIknewexactlywheretofindareplicaofthatcomputerintheOASIS.Everygunterdid.
IntheearlydaysoftheOASIS,HallidayhadcreatedasmallplanetnamedMiddletown,namedafterhishometowninOhio.Theplanetwasthesiteofameticulousre-creationofhishometownasitwasinthelate1980s.Thatsayingabouthowyoucannevergohomeagain?Hallidayhadfoundaway.Middletownwasoneofhispetprojects,andhe’dspentyearscodingandrefiningit.Anditwaswellknown(togunters,atleast)thatoneofthemostdetailedandaccuratepartsoftheMiddletownsimulationwasthere-creationofHalliday’sboyhoodhome.
I’dneverbeenabletovisitit,butI’dseenhundredsofscreenshotsandvidcapsoftheplace.InsideHalliday’sbedroomwasareplicaofhisfirstcomputer,aTRS-80ColorComputer2.Iwaspositivethatwaswherehe’dhiddentheFirstGate.AndthesecondlineoftextinscribedontheCopperKeytoldmehowtoreachit:
OnthedeepestlevelofDaggorath.
DagorathwasawordinSindarin,theElvishlanguageJ.R.R.TolkienhadcreatedforTheLordoftheRings.Theworddagorathmeant“battle,”
butTolkienhadspelledthewordwithjustone“g,”nottwo.“Daggorath”
(withtwo“g”s)couldreferonlytoonething:anincrediblyobscurecomputergamecalledDungeonsofDaggorathreleasedin1982.Thegamehadbeenmadeforjustoneplatform,theTRS-80ColorComputer.
HallidayhadwritteninAnorak’sAlmanacthatDungeonsofDaggorathwasthegamethatmadehimdecidehewantedtobecomeavideogamedesigner.
AndDungeonsofDaggorathwasoneofthegamessittingintheshoeboxnexttotheTRS-80inthere-creationofHalliday’schildhoodbedroom.
SoallIhadtodowasteleporttoMiddletown,gotoHalliday’shouse,sitdownathisTRS-80,playthegame,reachthebottomlevelofthedungeon,and...thatwaswhereI’dfindtheFirstGate.
Atleast,thatwasmyinterpretation.
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morethanenoughgoldandtreasuretopayfortheteleportationfaretogetthere.Bymyavatar’spreviousstandards,Iwasnowfilthyrich.
Icheckedthetime:11:03p.m.,OST(OASISServerTime,whichalsohappenedtobeEasternStandardTime).IhadeighthoursbeforeIhadtobeatschool.Thatmightbeenoughtime.Icouldgoforit,rightnow.
Sprintlikehell,backupthroughthedungeontothesurface,thenhightailitback
tothenearesttransportterminal.Fromthere,IcouldteleportdirectlytoMiddletown.IfIleftrightnow,IshouldbeabletoreachHalliday’sTRS-80inunderanhour.
IknewIshouldgetsomesleepfirst.I’dbeenloggedintotheOASISforalmostfifteensolidhours.AndtomorrowwasFriday.IcouldteleporttoMiddletownrightafterschoolandthenI’dhavethewholeweekendtotackletheFirstGate.
ButwhowasIkidding?TherewasnowayI’dbeabletosleeptonight,orsitthroughschooltomorrow.Ihadtogonow.
Ibegantosprintfortheexit,butthenstoppedinthemiddleofthechamber.Throughtheopendoor,Isawalongshadowbouncingonthewall,accompaniedbytheechoofapproachingfootsteps.
Afewsecondslater,thesilhouetteofanavatarappearedinthedoorway.IwasabouttoreachformyswordwhenIrealizedIwasstillholdingtheCopperKeyinmyhand.Ishoveditintoapouchonmybeltandfum-bledmyswordoutofitsscabbard.AsIraisedmyblade,theavatarspoke.
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“Whothehellareyou?”thesilhouettedemanded.Thevoicesoundedlikeitbelongedtoayoungwoman.Onewhowasitchingforafight.
WhenIfailedtoanswer,astockyfemaleavatarsteppedoutoftheshadowsandintothechamber’sflickeringtorchlight.Shehadravenhair,styledJoan-of-Arcshort,andappearedtobeinherlateteensorearlytwenties.
Asshegotcloser,IrealizedthatIknewher.We’dneveractuallymet,butIrecognizedherfacefromthedozensofscreenshotsshe’dpostedtoherblogovertheyears.
ItwasArt3mis.
Sheworeasuitofscaledgunmetal-bluearmorthatlookedmoresci-fithanfantasy.Twinblasterpistolswereslunglowonherhipsinquick-drawholsters,andtherewasalong,curvedelvishswordinascabbardacrossherback.SheworefingerlessRoadWarrior–styleracingglovesandapairofclassicRay-Banshades.Overall,sheseemedtobegoingforasortofmid-’80spostapocalypticcyberpunkgirl-next-doorlook.Anditwasworkingforme,inabigway.Inaword:hot.
Asshewalkedtowardme,theheelsofherstuddedcombatbootsclickedonthestonefloor.Shehaltedjustoutofmysword’sreachbutdidnotdrawherownblade.Instead,sheslidhershadesupontoheravatar’sforehead—ablatantaffectation,sincesunglassesdidn’tactuallyaffectaplayer’svision—andlookedmeupanddown,makingashowofsizingmeup.
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ForamomentIwastoostar-strucktospeak.Tobreakmyparalysis,Iremindedmyselfthatthepersonoperatingtheavatarinfrontofmemightnotbeawomanatall.This“girl,”whomI’dbeencyber-crushingonforthepastthreeyears,mightverywellbeanobese,hairy-knuckledguynamedChuck.OnceI’dconjuredupthatsoberingimage,Iwasabletofocusonmysituation,andthequestionathand:Whatwasshedoinghere?
Afterfiveyearsofsearching,Ithoughtitwashighlyimprobablethatwe’dbothdiscoveredtheCopperKey’shidingplaceonthesamenight.Toobigofacoincidence.
“Catgotyourtongue?”sheasked.“Isaid:Who.Thehell.Areyou?”
Likeher,Ihadmyavatar’snametagswitchedoff.Clearly,Iwantedtoremainanonymous,especiallyunderthecircumstances.Couldn’tshetakethehint?
“Greetings,”Isaid,bowingslightly.“IamJuanSánchezVilla-LobosRamírez.”
Shesmirked.“ChiefmetallurgisttoKingCharlestheFifthofSpain?”
“Atyourservice,”Ireplied,grinning.She’dcaughtmyobscureHighlanderquoteandthrownanotherrightbackatme.ItwasArt3mis,allright.
“Cute.”Sheglancedovermyshoulder,upattheemptydais,thenbackatme.“So,spillit.Howdidyoudo?”
“Doatwhat?”
“JoustingagainstAcererak?”shesaid,asifitwereobvious.
Suddenly,Iunderstood.Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeshe’dbeenhere.Iwasn’tthefirstguntertodeciphertheLimerickandfindtheTombofHorrors.Art3mishadbeatenmetoit.AndsincesheknewabouttheJoustgame,she’dobviouslyalreadyfacedthelichherself.ButifshealreadyhadtheCopperKey,therewouldn’tbeanyreasonforhertocomebackhere.
Sosheclearlydidn’thavethekeyyet.She’dfacedthelichatJoustandhe’dbeatenher.Soshe’dcomebacktotryagain.ForallIknew,thiscouldbehereighthorninthattempt.Andsheobviouslyassumedthelichhadbeatenme,too.
“Hello?”shesaid,tappingherrightfootimpatiently.“I’mwaiting?”
Iconsideredmakingabreakforit.Justrunningrightpasther,backoutthroughthelabyrinthanduptothesurface.ButifIran,shemightsuspectthatIhadthekeyanddecidetotrytokillmetogetit.ThesurfaceofLuduswasclearlymarkedasasafezoneontheOASISmap,sonoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd88
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player-versus-playercombatwasallowed.ButIhadnowayofknowingifthesamewastrueofthistomb,becauseitwasunderground,anditdidn’tevenappearontheplanetmap.
Art3mislookedlikeaformidableopponent.Bodyarmor.Blasterpistols.Andthatelvishswordshewascarryingmightbevorpal.Ifevenhalfoftheexploitsshe’dmentionedonherblogweretrue,heravatarwasprobablyatleastfiftiethlevel.Orhigher.IfPvPcombatwaspermitteddownhere,she’dkickmytenth-levelass.
SoIhadtoplaythiscool.Idecidedtolie.
“Igotcreamed,”Isaid.“Joustisn’treallymygame.”
Sherelaxedherpostureslightly.Thatseemedtobetheanswershewantedtohear.“Yeah,samehere,”shesaidinacommiseratingtone.
“HallidayprogrammedoldKingAcererakwithsomeprettywickedAI,didn’the?He’sinsanelyhardtobeat.”Sheglanceddownatmysword,whichIwasstillbrandishingdefensively.“Youcanputthataway.I’mnotgonnabiteyou.”
Ikeptmyswordraised.“IsthistombinaPvPzone?”
“Dunno.You’rethefirstavatarI’veeverrunintodownhere.”Shetiltedherheadslightlyandsmiled.“Isupposethere’sonlyonewaytofindout.”
Shedrewhersword,lightningfast,andturnedintoaclockwisespin,bringingitsglowingbladearoundanddownatme,allinasingleblurofmotion.Atthelastsecond,Imanagedtotiltmyownbladeupwardtoawkwardlyparrytheattack.Butbothofourswordshaltedinmidair,inchesapart,asifheldbackbysomeinvisibleforce.Amessageflashedonmydisplay:player-versus-playercombatnotpermittedhere!
Ibreathedasighofrelief.(Iwouldn’tlearnuntillaterthatthekeyswerenontransferable.Youcouldn’tdroponeofthem,orgivethemtoanotheravatar.Andifyouwerekilledwhileholdingone,itvanishedrightalongwithyourbody.)
“Well,thereyouhaveit,”shesaid,grinning.“Thisisano-PvPzoneafterall.”Shewhippedherswordaroundinafigure-eightpattern,thensmoothlyreplaceditinthescabbardonherback.Veryslick.
Isheathedmyownswordtoo,butwithoutanyfancymoves.“Hallidaymustnothavewantedanyonetoduelfortherighttojousttheking,”Isaid.
“Yeah,”shesaid,grinning.“Luckyforyou.”
“Luckyforme?”Ireplied,foldingmyarms.“Howdoyoufigure?”
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Shemotionedtotheemptydaisbehindme.“Youmustreallybehurt-ingforhitpointsrightnow,afterfightingAcererak.”
So...ifAcererakbeatyouatJoust,thenyouhadtofighthim.GoodthingIwon,Ithought.OrelseI’dprobablybecreatinganewavatarrightaboutnow.
“I’vegothitpointsgalore,”Ifibbed.“Thatlichwasatotalwuss.”
“Ohreally?”shesaidsuspiciously.“I’mfifty-secondlevel,andhe’snearlykilledmeeverytimeI’vehadtofighthim.IhavetostockuponextrahealingpotionseverytimeIcomedownhere.”Sheeyedmeamoment,thensaid,“Ialsorecognizeyourswordandthearmoryou’rewearing.Yougotthembothrighthereinthisdungeon,whichmeansthey’rebetterthanwhateveryouravatarhadbefore.Youlooklikealow-levelwimpazoidtome,JuanRamírez.AndIthinkyou’rehidingsomething.”
NowthatIknewshecouldn’tattackme,Iconsideredtellingherthetruth.WhynotjustwhipouttheCopperKeyandshowittoher?ButIthoughtbetterofit.ThesmartmovenowwastosplitandheadstraightforMiddletownwhileIstillhadaheadstart.Shestilldidn’thavethekeyandmightnotgetitforseveralmoredays.IfIhadn’talreadyhadsomanyhoursofJoustpracticeundermybelt,GodknowshowmanyattemptsitwouldhavetakenmetobeatAcererak.
“Thinkwhatyouwant,She-Ra,”Isaid,movingpasther.“MaybeI’llrunintoyouoff-worldsometime.Wecandukeitoutthen.”Igaveherasmallwave.“Seeya’round.”
“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?”shesaid,followingme.
“Home,”Isaid,stillwalking.
“Butwhataboutthelich?AndtheCopperKey?”Shemotionedtotheemptydais.“He’llrespawninafewminutes.WhentheOASISserverclockhitsmidnight,thewholetombresets.Ifyouwaitrighthere,you’llgetanothershotatbeatinghim,withouthavingtomakeyourwaythroughallofthosetrapsagainfirst.That’swhyI’vebeencomingherejustbeforemidnight,everyotherday.SoIcangetintwoattemptsinarow,back-to-back.”
Clever.IfIhadn’tsucceededonmyfirsttry,Iwonderedhowlongitwouldhavetakenmetofigurethatout.“Ithoughtwecouldtaketurnsplayingagainsthim,”Isaid.“Ijustplayedhim,soit’llbeyourturnatmidnight,OK?ThenI’llcomebackaftermidnighttomorrow.Wecanalternatedaysuntiloneofusbeatshim.Soundfair?”
“Isuppose,”shesaid,studyingme.“Butyoushouldstickaroundany-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd90
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way.Somethingdifferentmighthappeniftherearetwoavatarshereatmidnight.Anorakprobablypreparedforthatcontingency.Maybetwoinstancesofthelichwillappear,oneforeachofustoplay?Ormaybe—”
“Iprefertoplayinprivate,”Isaid.“Let’sjusttaketurns,OK?”Iwasalmosttotheexitwhenshesteppedinfrontofme,blockingmypath.
“Comeon,holdupasecond,”shesaid,hervoicesoftening.“Please?”
Icouldhavekeptwalking,rightthroughheravatar.ButIdidn’t.IwasdesperatetogettoMiddletownandlocatetheFirstGate,butIwasalsostandinginfrontofthefamousArt3mis,someoneI’dfantasizedaboutmeetingforyears.AndshewasevencoolerinpersonthanI’dimagined.Iwasdyingtospendmoretimewithher.Iwanted,asthe’80spoetHowardJoneswouldsay,togettoknowherwell.IfIleftnow,Imightneverrunintoheragain.
“Listen,”shesaid,glancingatherboots.“Iapologizeforcallingyoualow-levelwimpazoid.Thatwasnotcool.Iinsultedyou.”
“It’sOK.Youwereright,actually.I’monlytenthlevel.”
“Regardless,you’reafellowgunter.Andacleveronetoo,oryouwouldn’tbestandinghere.So,IwantyoutoknowthatIrespectyou,andacknowledgeyourskills.AndIapologizeforthetrashtalk.”
“Apologyaccepted.Noworries.”
“Cool.”Shelookedrelieved.Heravatar’sfacialexpressionswereextremelyrealistic,whichusuallymeanttheyweresynchedtothoseoftheiroperatorinsteadofcontrolledbysoftware.Shemust’vebeenusinganexpensiverig.“Iwasjustalittlefreakedtofindyouhere,”shesaid.“Imean,Iknewsomeoneelsewouldfindthisplaceeventually.Justnotthisquickly.
I’vehadthistomballtomyselfforawhilenow.”
“Howlong?”Iasked,notreallyexpectinghertosay.
Shehesitated,thenbegantoramble.“Threeweeks!”shesaid,exasper-ated.“I’vebeencominghereforthreefreakin’weeks,tryingtobeatthatstupidlichatthatasininegame!AndhisAIisridiculous!Imean,youknow.I’dneverevenplayedJoustbeforethis,andnowit’sdrivingmeoutofmygourd!IswearIwasthisclosetofinallybeatinghisassafewdaysago,butthen...”Sherakedherfingersthroughherhairinfrustration.
“Argh!Ican’tsleep.Ican’teat.Mygradesaregoingdownthetubes,becauseI’vebeenditchingtopracticeJoust—”
IwasabouttoaskifshewenttoschoolhereonLudus,butshecontinuedtotalk,fasterandfaster,asifafloodgatehadopenedinherbrain.Thewordsjustpouredoutofher.Shewasbarelypausingtobreathe.
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“—andIcameheretonight,thinkingthiswouldbethenightIfinallybeatthatbastardandgettheCopperKey,butwhenIgothere,Isawthatsomeonehadalreadyuncoveredtheentrance.SoIrealizedmyworstfearhadfinallycometrue.Someoneelsehadfoundthetomb.SoIranallthewaydownhere,totallyfreakingout.Imean,Iwasn’ttooworried,becauseIdidn’tthinkanyonecouldpossiblybeatAcererakontheirfirsttry,butstill—”Shepausedtotakeadeepbreathandstoppedabruptly.
“Sorry,”shesaidasecondlater.“ItendtoramblewhenI’mnervous.Orexcited.AndrightnowI’msortofboth,becauseI’vebeendyingtotalktosomeoneaboutallofthis,butobviouslyIcouldn’ttellasoul,right?
Youcan’tjustmentionincasualconversationthatyou—”Shecutherselfoffagain.“Man,I’msuchamotormouth!Ajabberjaw.Aflibbertigibbet.”
Shemimedzippingherlips,lockingthem,andtossingawaytheimaginarykey.Withoutthinking,Imimedgrabbingthekeyoutoftheairandunlockingherlips.Thismadeherlaugh—anhonest,genuinelaughthatinvolvedafairamountofsnorting,whichmademelaughtoo.
Shewassocharming.HergeekydemeanorandhyperkineticspeechpatternremindedmeofJordan,myfavoritecharacterinRealGenius.I’dneverfeltsuchaninstantconnectionwithanotherperson,intherealworldorintheOASIS.NotevenwithAech.Ifeltlight-headed.
Whenshefinallygotherlaughterundercontrol,shesaid,“Ireallyneedtosetupafiltertoeditoutthatlaughofmine.”
“No,youshouldn’t,”Isaid.“It’saprettygreatlaugh,actually.”Iwaswincingateverywordcomingoutofmymouth.“Ihaveadorkylaughtoo.”
Great,Wade,Ithought.Youjustcalledherlaugh“dorky.”Realsmooth.
Butshejustgavemeashysmileandmouthedthewords“thankyou.”
Ifeltasuddenurgetokissher.Simulationornot,Ididn’tcare.Iwasworkingupthecouragetoaskforhercontactcardwhenshestuckoutherhand.
“Iforgottointroducemyself,”shesaid.“I’mArt3mis.”
“Iknow,”Isaid,shakingherhand.“I’mactuallyahugefanofyourblog.I’vebeenaloyalreaderforyears.”
“Seriously?”Heravataractuallyseemedtoblush.
Inodded.“It’sanhonortomeetyou,”Isaid.“I’mParzival.”IrealizedthatIwasstillholdingherhandandmademyselfletgo.
“Parzival,eh?”Shetiltedherheadslightly.“NamedaftertheknightoftheRoundTablewhofoundthegrail,right?Verycool.”
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Inodded,nowevenmoresmitten.Ialmostalwayshadtoexplainmynametopeople.“AndArtemiswastheGreekgoddessofthehunt,right?”
“Right!Butthenormalspellingwasalreadytaken,soIhadtousealeetspelling,withanumberthreeinplaceofthe‘e.’”
“Iknow,”Isaid.“Youmentionedthatonceonyourblog.Twoyearsago.”IalmostcitedthedateoftheactualblogentrybeforeIrealizeditwouldmakemesoundlikeevenmoreofacyber-stalkingsuper-creep.
“Yousaidthatyoustillrunintonoobswhoprounounceit‘Art-three-miss.’”
“That’sright,”shesaid,grinningatme.“Idid.”
Shestretchedoutaracing-glovedhandandofferedmeoneofhercontactcards.Youcoulddesignyourcardtolooklikejustaboutanything.
Art3mishadcodedherstolooklikeavintageKennerStarWarsactionfigure(stillintheblisterpack).Thefigurewasacrudeplasticrenderingofheravatar,withthesameface,hair,andoutfit.Tinyversionsofhergunsandswordwere
included.Hercontactinfowasprintedonthecard,abovethefigure:
Art3mis
52ndLevelWarrior/Mage
(VehicleSoldSeparately)
Onthebackofthecardwerelinkstoherblog,e-mail,andphoneline.
Notonlywasthisthefirsttimeagirlhadevergivenmehercard,itwasalso,byfar,thecoolestcontactcardIhadeverseen.
“Thisis,byfar,thecoolestcontactcardIhaveeverseen,”Isaid.“Thankyou!”
Ihandedheroneofmyowncards,whichI’ddesignedtolooklikeanoriginalAtari2600Adventurecartridge,withmycontactinfoprintedonthelabel:
Parzival
10thLevelWarrior
(UsewithJoystickController)
“Thisisawesome!”shesaid,lookingitover.“Whatawickeddesign!”
“Thanks,”Isaid,blushingundermyvisor.Iwantedtoproposemar-riage.
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Iaddedhercardtomyinventory,anditappearedonmyitemlist,rightbelowtheCopperKey.Seeingthekeylistedtheresnappedmebacktoreality.WhatthehellwasIdoing,standingheremakingsmalltalkwiththisgirlwhentheFirstGatewaswaitingforme?Icheckedthetime.Lessthanfiveminutesuntilmidnight.
“Listen,Art3mis,”Isaid.“Itwastrulyawesometomeetyou.ButIgottagetgoing.Theserverisabouttoreset,andIwanttoclearoutofherebeforeallofthosetrapsandundeadrespawn.”
“Oh...OK.”Sheactuallysoundeddisappointed!“IshouldprobablyprepareformyJoustmatchanyway.Buthere,letmehityouwithaCureSeriousWoundsspellbeforeyougo.”
BeforeIcouldprotest,shelaidahandonmyavatar’schestandmutteredafewarcanewords.Myhit-pointcounterwasalreadyatmaximum,sothespellhadnoeffect.ButArt3misdidn’tknowthat.ShewasstillundertheassumptionthatI’dhadtofightthelich.
“Thereyougo,”shesaid,steppingback.
“Thanks,”Isaid.“Butyoushouldn’thave.We’recompetitors,youknow.”
“Iknow.Butwecanstillbefriends,right?”
“Ihopeso.”
“Besides,theThirdGateisstillalongwayoff.Imean,ittookfiveyearsforthetwoofustogetthisfar.AndifIknowHalliday’sgame-designstrategy,thingsarejustgoingtogetharderfromhereonout.”Sheloweredhervoice.“Listen,areyousureyoudon’twanttostickaround?Ibetwecanbothplayatonce.WecangiveeachotherJoustingtips.I’vestartedtospotsomeflawsintheking’stechnique—”
NowIwasstartingtofeellikeajerkforlyingtoher.“That’sareallykindoffer.ButIhavetogo.”Isearchedforaplausibleexcuse.“I’vegotschoolinthemorning.”
Shenodded,butherexpressionshiftedbacktooneofsuspicion.Thenhereyeswidened,asthoughanideahadjustoccurredtoher.Herpupilsbegantodartaround,focusedonthespaceinfrontofher,andIrealizedshewaslookingsomethingupinabrowserwindow.Afewsecondslater,herfacecontortedinanger.
“Youlyingbastard!”sheshouted.“Youdishonestsackofcrap!”ShemadeherWebbrowserwindowvisibletomeandspunitaround.Itdisplayedthe
ScoreboardonHalliday’swebsite.Inalltheexcitement,I’dforgottentocheckit.
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Itlookedjustasithadforthepastfiveyears,withonechange.Myavatar’snamenowappearedattheverytopofthelist,infirstplace,withascoreof10,000pointsbesideit.TheothernineslotsstillcontainedHalliday’sinitials,JDH,followedbyzeros.
“Holyshit,”Imuttered.WhenAnorakhadhandedmetheCopperKey,I’dbecomethefirstgunterinhistorytoscorepointsinthecontest.And,Irealized,sincetheScoreboardwasviewabletotheentireworld,myavatarhadjustbecomefamous.
Icheckedthenewsfeedheadlinesjusttobesure.Everysingleoneofthemcontainedmyavatar’sname.Stufflike:mysteriousavatar“parzival”makeshistoryandparzivalfindscopperkey.
Istoodthereinadaze,forcingmyselftobreathe.ThenArt3misgavemeashove,which,ofcourse,Ididn’tfeel.Shedidknockmyavatarbackwardafewfeet,though.“Youbeathimonyourfirsttry?”sheshouted.
Inodded.“Hewonthefirstgame,butIwonthelasttwo.Justbarely,though.”
“Shiiiiiit!”shescreamed,clenchingherfists.“Howinthehelldidyoubeathimonyourfirsttry?”Igotthedistinctimpressionshewantedtosockmeintheface.
“Itwaspureluck,”Isaid.“IusedtoplayJoustallthetimeagainstafriendofmine.SoI’dalreadyhadatonofpreparation.I’msureifyou’dhadasmuchpractice—”
“Please!”shegrowled,holdingupahand.“Donotpatronizeme,OK?”
SheletoutwhatIcanonlydescribeasahowloffrustration.“Idon’tbelievethis!DoyourealizeI’vebeentryingtobeathimforfivegoddamnweeks!”
“Butaminuteagoyousaiditwasthreeweeks—”
“Don’tinterruptme!”Shegavemeanothershove.“I’vebeenpracticingJoustnonstopforoveramonthnow!I’mseeingflyingostrichesinmygoddamnsleep!”
“Thatcan’tbepleasant.”
“Andyoujustwalkinhereandnailitonthefirsttry!”Shestartedpoundingherfistintothecenterofherforehead,andIrealizedshewaspissedatherself,notme.
“Listen,”Isaid.“Itreallywasluck.I’vegotaknackforclassicarcadegames.That’smyspecialty.”Ishrugged.“StophittingyourselflikeRainMan,OK?”
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Shestoppedandstaredme.Afterafewseconds,sheletoutalongsigh.
“Whycouldn’titbeCentipede?OrMs.Pac-Man?OrBurgerTime?ThenI’dprobablyhavealreadyclearedtheFirstGatebynow!”
“Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat,”Isaid.
Sheglaredatmeasecond,thengavemeadevilishsmile.Sheturnedtofacetheexitandbegantoexecuteaseriesofelaborategesturesintheairinfrontofherwhilewhisperingthewordsofsomeincantation.
“Hey,”Isaid.“Holdonasec.Whatareyoudoing?”
ButIalreadyknew.Asshefinishedcastingherspell,agiantstonewallappeared,completelycoveringthechamber’sonlyexit.Shit!She’dcasta
Barrierspell.Iwastrappedinsidetheroom.
“Oh,comeon!”Ishouted.“Whydidyoudothat?”
“Youseemedtobeinanawfulbighurrytogetoutofhere.MyguessisthatwhenAnorakgaveyoutheCopperKey,healsogaveyousomesortofclueaboutthelocationoftheFirstGate.Right?That’swhereyou’reheadednext,isn’tit?”
“Yeah,”Isaid.Ithoughtaboutdenyingit,butwhatwasthepointnow?
“Sounlessyoucannullifymyspell—andI’mbettingyoucan’t,Mr.
Tenth-LevelWarrior—thatbarrierwillkeepyouinhereuntiljustaftermidnight,whentheserverresets.Allofthosetrapsyoudisarmedonyourwaydownherewillreset.Thatshouldslowdownyourexitconsiderably.”
“Yes,”Isaid.“Itwill.”
“Andwhileyou’rebusymakingyourwaybackuptothesurface,I’llhaveanothershotatdefeatingAcererak.AndthistimeI’mgonnadestroyhim.ThenI’llberightbehindyou,mister.”
Ifoldedmyarms.“Ifthekinghasbeenbeatingyourassforthepastfiveweeks,whatmakesyouthinkyou’refinallygoingtowintonight?”
“Competitionbringsoutthebestinme,”shereplied.“Italwayshas.
AndnowI’vegotsomeseriouscompetition.”
Iglancedoveratthemagicalbarriershe’dcreated.Shewasoverfiftiethlevel,soitwouldremaininexistenceforthespell’smaximumduration:fifteenminutes.AllIcoulddowasstandthereandwaitforittodissipate.
“You’reevil,youknowthat?”Isaid.
Shegrinnedandshookherhead.“ChaoticNeutral,sugar.”
Igrinnedbackather.“I’mstillgoingtobeatyoutotheFirstGate,youknow.”
“Probably,”shesaid.“Butthisisjustthebeginning.You’llstillhaveto
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clearit.Andtherearestilltwomorekeystofind,andtwomoregatestoclear.Plentyoftimeformetocatchupwithyou,andthenleaveyouinthedust,ace.”
“We’llseeaboutthat,lady.”
ShemotionedtothewindowdisplayingtheScoreboard.“You’refamousnow,”shesaid.“Yourealizewhatthatmeans,don’tyou?”
“Ihaven’thadmuchtimetothinkaboutityet.”
“Well,Ihave.I’vebeenthinkingaboutitforthepastfiveweeks.Youravatar’snameonthatScoreboardisgoingtochangeeverything.Thepublicwillbecomeobsessedwiththecontestagain,justlikewhenitfirstbegan.Themediaisalreadygoingberserk.Bytomorrow,Parzivalwillbeahouseholdname.”
Thatthoughtmademealittlequeasy.
“Youcouldbecomefamousintherealworldtoo,”shesaid.“Ifyourevealyourtrueidentitytothemedia.”
“I’mnotanidiot.”
“Good.Becausetherearebillionsofdollarsupforgrabs,andnoweveryoneisgoingtoassumeyouknowhowandwheretofindtheegg.Therearealotofpeoplewhowouldkillforthatinformation.”
“Iknowthat,”Isaid.“AndIappreciateyourconcern.ButI’llbefine.”
ButIdidn’tfeelfine.Ihadn’treallyconsideredanyofthis,maybebecauseI’dneverreallybelievedIwouldactuallybeinthisposition.
Westoodthereinsilence,watchingtheclockandwaiting.“Whatwouldyoudoifyouwon?”shesuddenlyasked.“Howwouldyouspendallthatmoney?”
Ihadspentalotoftimethinkingaboutthat.Idaydreamedaboutitallthetime.AechandIhadmadeabsurdlistsofthingswewoulddoandbuyifwewontheprize.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“Theusual,Iguess.Moveintoamansion.Buyabunchofcoolshit.Notbepoor.”
“Wow.Bigdreamer,”shesaid.“Andafteryoubuyyourmansionandyour‘coolshit,’whatwillyoudowiththehundredandthirtybillionyou’llhaveleftover?”
NotwantinghertothinkIwassomeshallowidiot,IimpulsivelyblurtedoutwhatI’dalwaysdreamedofdoingifIwon.ItwassomethingI’dnevertoldanyone.
“I’dhaveanuclear-poweredinterstellarspacecraftconstructedinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd97
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Earth’sorbit,”Isaid.“I’dstockitwithalifetimesupplyoffoodandwater,aself-sustainingbiosphere,andasupercomputerloadedwitheverymovie,book,song,videogame,andpieceofartworkthathumancivilizationhasevercreated,alongwithastand-alonecopyoftheOASIS.ThenI’dinviteafewofmyclosestfriendstocomeaboard,alongwithateamofdoctorsandscientists,andwe’dallgetthehelloutofDodge.LeavethesolarsystemandstartlookingforanextrasolarEarthlikeplanet.”
Ihadn’tthoughtthisplanallthewaythroughyet,ofcourse.Istillhadalotofdetailstoworkout.
Sheraisedaneyebrow.“That’sprettyambitious,”shesaid.“Butyoudorealizethatnearlyhalfthepeopleonthisplanetarestarving,right?”Idetectednomaliceinhervoice.ShesoundedlikeshegenuinelybelievedImightnotbeawareofthisfact.
“Yes,Iknow,”Isaiddefensively.“Thereasonsomanypeoplearestarvingis
becausewe’vewreckedtheplanet.TheEarthisdying,youknow?
It’stimetoleave.”
“That’saprettynegativeoutlook,”shesaid.“IfIwinthatdough,I’mgoingtomakesureeveryoneonthisplanethasenoughtoeat.Oncewetackleworldhunger,thenwecanfigureouthowtofixtheenvironmentandsolvetheenergycrisis.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Right,”Isaid.“Andafteryoupulloffthatmiracle,youcangeneticallyengineerabunchofSmurfsandunicornstofrolicaroundthisnewperfectworldyou’vecreated.”
“I’mbeingserious,”shesaid.
“Youreallythinkit’sthatsimple?”Isaid.“Thatyoucanjustwriteacheckfortwohundredandfortybilliondollarsandfixalltheworld’sproblems?”
“Idon’tknow.Maybenot.ButI’mgonnagiveitashot.”
“Ifyouwin.”
“Right.IfIwin.”
Justthen,theOASISserverclockstruckmidnight.Webothknewthesecondithappened,becausethethronereappearedatopthedais,alongwithAcererak.Hesattheremotionless,lookingjustlikehedidwhenI’dfirstenteredtheroom.
Art3misglancedupathim,thenbackatme.Shesmiledandgavemeasmallwave.“I’llseeyouaround,Parzival.”
“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Seeya.”Sheturnedandbegantowalktowardthedais.Icalledafterher.“Hey,Art3mis?”
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Sheturnedback.ForsomereasonIfeltcompelledtohelpher,eventhoughIknewIshouldn’t.“Tryplayingontheleftside,”Isaid.“That’showIwon.Ithinkhemightbeeasiertobeatifhe’splayingthestork.”
Shestaredatmeforasecond,possiblytryingtogaugewhetherIwasmessingwithher.Thenshenoddedandascendedthedais.Acererakcametolifeassoonasshesetfootonthefirststep.
“Greetings,Art3mis,”hisvoiceboomed.“Whatisitthatyouseek?”
Icouldn’thearherreply,butafewsecondslaterthethronetransformedintotheJoustgame,justasithadearlier.Art3missaidsomethingtothelichandthetwoofthemswitchedsides,sothatshewasontheleft.Thentheybegantoplay.
Iwatchedthemplayfromadistanceuntilafewminuteslater,whenherBarrierspelldissipated.IcastonelastglanceupatArt3mis,thenthrewopenthedoorandranout.
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Ittookmealittleoveranhourtomakemywaybackthroughthetombanduptothesurface.TheinstantIcrawledoutside,amessageswaitingindicatorbegantoflashonmydisplay.IrealizedthenthatHallidayhadplacedthetombinsideanull-communicationzone,sonoonecouldreceivecalls,texts,ore-mailwhiletheywereinside.Probablytopreventguntersfromcallingforhelporadvice.
IcheckedmymessagesandsawthatAechhadbeentryingtoreachmesincethemomentmynameappearedontheScoreboard.He’dcalledoveradozentimesandhadalsosentseveraltextmessagesaskingmewhatinthesweetnameofChristwasgoingonandscreamingatmeinALLCAPS
tocallhimbackrightnow.JustasI’dfinisheddeletingthesemessages,Ireceivedanotherincomingcall.ItwasAechtryingonceagaintoreachme.Idecidednottopickup.Instead,Isenthimashorttextmessage,promisingtocall
assoonasIcould.
AsIranoutoftheforest,IkepttheScoreboardupinthecornerofmydisplaysoI’dknowimmediatelyifArt3miswonherJoustmatchandobtainedthekey.WhenIfinallyreachedthetransportterminalandjumpedintothenearestbooth,itwasjustaftertwoo’clockinthemorning.
Ienteredmydestinationonthebooth’stouchscreen,andamapofMiddletownappearedonthedisplay.Iwaspromptedtoselectoneoftheplanet’s256transportterminalsasmyarrivalpoint.
WhenHallidayhadcreatedMiddletown,hehadn’tplacedjustasingleClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd100
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re-creationofhishometownthere.He’dmade256identicalcopiesofit,spreadoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.Ididn’tthinkitwouldmatterwhichcopyofhishometownIwentto,soIselectedoneatrandom,neartheequator.ThenItappedconfirmtopaythefare,andmyavatarvanished.
Amillisecondlater,Iwasstandinginsideavintage1980sphoneboothlocatedinsideanoldGreyhoundbusstation.Iopenedthedoorandsteppedout.Itwaslikesteppingoutofatimemachine.SeveralNPCsmilledaround,alldressedinmid-1980sattire.Awomanwithagiantozone-depletinghairdobobbedherheadtoanoversizeWalkman.AkidinagrayMembersOnlyjacketleanedagainstthewall,workingonaRubik’sCube.AMohawkedpunkrockersatinaplasticchair,watchingaRiptidererunonacoin-operatedtelevision.
Ilocatedtheexitandheadedforit,drawingmyswordasIwent.TheentiresurfaceofMiddletownwasaPvPzone,soIhadtoproceedwithcaution.
ShortlyaftertheHuntbegan,thisplanethadturnedintoGrandCentralStation,andall256copiesofHalliday’shometownhadbeenscouredandransackedbyanendlessparadeofgunters,allsearchingforkeysandclues.ThepopulartheoryonthemessageboardswasthatHallidayhadcreatedmultiplecopiesof
hishometownsothatseveralavatarscouldsearchitatthesametimewithoutfightingoverasinglelocation.Ofcourse,allofthissearchinghadyieldedabigfatdoughnut.Nokeys.Noclues.Noegg.Sincethen,interestintheplanethadwaneddramatically.
Butsomeguntersprobablystillcamehereonoccasion.
IftherewasalreadyanothergunterinsideHalliday’shousewhenIgotthere,myplanwastomakearunforit,thenstealacaranddrivetwenty-fivemiles(inanydirection)tothenextidenticalcopyofMiddletown.
Andthenthenext,untilIfoundaninstanceofHalliday’shousethatwasunoccupied.
Outsidethebusstation,itwasabeautifulMidwesternday.Thereddishorangesunhoveredlowinthesky.EventhoughI’dneverbeentoMiddletownbefore,I’ddoneextensiveresearchonit,soIknewHallidayhadcodedtheplanetsothatnomatterwhenyouvisitedorwhereyouwereonthesurface,itwasalwaysaperfectlate-autumnafternoon,circa1986.
IpulledupamapofthetownandtracedaroutefrommycurrentlocationtoHalliday’schildhoodhome.Itwasaboutamiletothenorth.IClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd101
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pointedmyavatarinthatdirectionandbegantorun.Lookingaround,Iwasastoundedatthepainstakingattentiontodetail.I’dreadthatHallidayhaddoneallofthecodinghimself,drawingonhismemoriestore-createhishometownexactlyasitwasduringhischildhood.He’dusedoldstreetmaps,phonebooks,photographs,andvideofootageforreference,tomakeeverythingasauthenticandaccurateaspossible.
TheplaceremindedmealotofthetowninthemovieFootloose.Small,rural,andsparselypopulated.Thehousesallseemedincrediblybigandwereplacedridiculouslyfarapart.Itastoundedmethatfiftyyearsago,evenlower-income
familieshadanentirehousetothemselves.TheNPC
citizensalllookedlikeextrasfromaJohnCougarMellencampvideo.Isawpeopleoutrakingleaves,walkingdogs,andsittingonporches.Outofcuriosity,Iwavedatafewofthemandgotafriendlywaveinreturneverytime.
Cluesastothetimeperiodwereeverywhere.NPC-pilotedcarsandtruckscruisedslowlyupanddowntheshadystreets,allofthemgas-guzzlingantiques:Trans-Ams,DodgeOmnis,IROCZ28s,andK-cars.Ipassedaservicestation,andthesignsaidgasolinewasonlyninety-threecentsagallon.
IwasabouttoturndownHalliday’sstreetwhenIheardafanfareoftrumpets.MyeyesshotovertotheScoreboardwindow,stillhoveringinthecornerofmydisplay.
Art3mishaddoneit.
Hernamenowappeareddirectlybelowmine.Herscorewas9,000
points—athousandpointslessthanmine.ItappearedthatI’dreceivedabonusforbeingthefirstavatartoobtaintheCopperKey.
ThefullramificationsoftheScoreboard’sexistenceoccurredtomeforthefirsttime.Fromhereonout,itwouldnotonlyallowgunterstokeeptrackofeachother’sprogress,itwouldalsoshowtheentireworldwhothecurrentfrontrunnerswere,creatinginstantcelebrities(andtargets)intheprocess.
Iknew,atthatexactmoment,Art3mismustbestaringdownatherowncopyoftheCopperKey,readingtheclueengravedonitssurface.Iwassureshe’dbeabletodecipheritjustasquicklyasIhad.Infact,shewasprobablyalreadyonherwaytoMiddletownrightnow.
Thatgotmemovingagain.Inowhadonlyanhour’sheadstartonher.
Maybeless.
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grownup,Isprinteddownthecrackedsidewalktothefrontstepsofhischildhoodhome.ItlookedjustlikethephotographsI’dseen:amodesttwo-storycolonialwithredvinylsiding.Twolate-’70sFordsedanswereparkedinthedriveway,oneofthemuponcinderblocks.
LookingatthereplicaHallidayhadcreatedofhisoldhouse,Itriedtoimaginewhatithadbeenlikeforhimtogrowupthere.I’dreadthatintherealMiddletown,Ohio,everyhouseonthisstreethadbeendemolishedinthelate’90stomakeroomforastripmall.ButHallidayhadpreservedhischildhoodforever,hereintheOASIS.
Iranupthewalkwayandenteredthroughthefrontdoor,whichopenedintothelivingroom.Iknewthisroomwell,becauseitappearedinAnorak’sInvitation.Irecognizedthesimulatedwood-grainpaneling,theburntorangecarpet,andgarishfurniturethatlookedlikeithadbeenscavengedfromseveraldisco-erayardsales.
Thehousewasempty.Forwhateverreason,HallidayhaddecidednottoplaceNPCre-creationsofhimselforhisdeceasedparentshere.Perhapsthatwouldhavebeentoocreepy,evenforhim.However,Ididspotafamiliarfamilyphotoonthelivingroomwall.ThisportraithadbeentakenatthelocalKmartin1984,butMr.andMrs.Hallidaywerestilldressedinlate-’70sfashions.Twelve-year-oldJimmystoodbetweenthem,gloweringatthecamerafrombehindthickeyeglasses.TheHallidayslookedlikeanordinaryAmericanfamily.Therewasnohintthatthestoicmaninthebrownleisuresuitwasanabusivealcoholic,thatthesmilingwomaninthefloralpantsuitwasbipolar,orthattheyoungboyinthefadedAsteroidsT-shirtwouldonedaycreateanentirelynewuniverse.
Lookingaround,IwonderedwhyHalliday,whoalwaysclaimedtohavehadamiserablechildhood,hadlaterbecomesonostalgicforit.IknewthatifandwhenIfinallyescapedfromthestacks,I’dneverlookback.
AndIdefinitelywouldn’tcreateadetailedsimulationoftheplace.
IglancedoveratthebulkyZenithtelevisionandtheAtari2600connectedtoit.ThesimulatedwoodgrainontheAtari’splasticcasingperfectlymatchedthe
simulatedwoodgrainonthetelevisioncabinetandonthelivingroomwalls.BesidetheAtariwasashoeboxcontainingninegamecartridges:Combat,SpaceInvaders,Pitfall,Kaboom!,StarRaiders,TheEmpireStrikesBack,Starmaster,Yars’Revenge,andE.T.GuntershadattachedalargeamountofsignificancetotheabsenceofAdventure,thegameHallidaywasseenplayingonthisverysameAtariattheendofAnorak’sInvitation.PeoplehadsearchedtheentireMiddletownsimulationClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd103
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foracopyofit,buttheredidn’tappeartobeoneanywhereonthewholeplanet.GuntershadbroughtcopiesofAdventureherefromotherplanets,butwhentheytriedtoplaythemonHalliday’sAtari,theyneverworked.
Sofar,noonehadbeenabletofigureoutwhy.
Ididaquicksearchoftherestofthehouseandmadesurenootheravatarswerepresent.ThenIopenedthedoorofJamesHalliday’sroom.Itwasempty,soIsteppedinsideandlockedthedoor.Screenshotsandsimcapsofthisroomhadbeenavailableforyears,andI’dstudiedallofthemclosely.
Butthiswasmyfirsttimestandinginsidethe“realthing.”Igotchills.
Thecarpetwasahorrendousmustardcolor.Sowasthewallpaper.Butthewallswerealmostentirelycoveredwithmovieandrockbandposters:RealGenius,WarGames,Tron,PinkFloyd,Devo,Rush.Abookshelfstoodjustinsidethedoor,overflowingwithscience-fictionandfantasypaperbacks(alltitlesI’dread,ofcourse).AsecondbookshelfbythebedwascrammedtocapacitywitholdcomputermagazinesandDungeons
&Dragonsrulebooks.Severallongboxesofcomicbookswerestackedagainstthewall,eachcarefullylabeled.AndthereonthebatteredwoodendeskinthecornerwasJamesHalliday’sfirstcomputer.
Likemanyhomecomputersofitsera,itwashousedinthesamecaseasitskeyboard.trs-80colorcomputer2,16kramwasprintedonalabelabovethe
keys.Cablessnakedoutofthebackofthemachine,leadingtoanaudiocassetterecorder,asmallcolortelevision,adot-matrixprinter,anda300-baudmodem.Alonglistoftelephonenumbersfordial-upbulletinboardsystemswastapedtothedeskbesidethemodem.
IsatdownandlocatedthepowerswitchforthecomputerandtheTV.
Iheardacrackleofstatic,followedbyalowhum,astheTVwarmedup.
Amomentlater,theTRS-80’sgreenstart-upscreenappeared,andIsawthesewords:
EXTENDEDCOLORBASIC1.1
COPYRIGHT(c)1982BYTANDY
OK
Belowthiswasaflashingcursor,cyclingthrougheverycolorofthespectrum.ItypedhelloandhittheEnterkey.
?syntaxerrorappearedonthenextline.“Hello”wasn’tavalidcommandinBASIC,theonlylanguagetheancientcomputerunderstood.
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TRS-80’s“tapedrive.”Itstoreddataasanalogsoundonmagneticaudio-tapes.WhenHallidayhadfirststartedprogramming,thepoorkidhadn’tevenhadaccesstoafloppydiskdrive.He’dhadtostorehiscodeoncassettetapes.Ashoeboxsatbesidethetapedrive,filledwithdozensofthesecassettes.Mostofthemweretextadventuregames:Raaka-tu,Bedlam,Pyramid,andMadnessandtheMinotaur.TherewerealsoafewROM
cartridges,whichfitintoaslotonthesideofthecomputer.IdugaroundintheboxuntilIfoundacartridgewithdungeonsofdaggorathprintedincrookedyellowtextonitswornredlabel.Thegame’sartworkdepictedafirst-personviewofalongdungeoncorridorblockedbyahulkingbluegiantwithalargestoneax.
WhenalistofthegamesfoundinHalliday’sbedroomhadfirstappearedonline,I’dmadesuretodownloadandmastereverysingleoneofthem,soI’dalreadysolvedDungeonsofDaggorath,abouttwoyearsearlier.Ithadtakenmostofaweekend.Thegraphicswerecrude,butevenso,thegamewasfunandincrediblyaddictive.
Iknewfromreadingthemessageboardsthatduringthepastfiveyears,severalguntershadplayedandsolvedDungeonsofDaggorathrighthereonHalliday’sTRS-80.Somehadsolvedeverysinglegameintheshoebox,justtoseeifanythingwouldhappen.Andnothinghad.ButnoneofthoseguntershadbeeninpossessionoftheCopperKey.
MyhandsweretremblingslightlyasIpoweredofftheTRS-80andinsertedtheDungeonsofDaggorathcartridge.WhenIturnedthecomputerbackon,thescreenflashedtoblackandacrudegraphicofawizardappeared,accompaniedbysomeominoussoundeffects.Thewizardheldastaffinonehand,andbelowhim,printedinallcapitalletters,wasthelegendidareyeenter...thedungeonsofdaggorath!
Ilaidmyfingersonthekeyboardandbegantoplay.AssoonasIdid,ajamboxsittingontopofHalliday’sdresserturneditselfon,andfamiliarmusicbegantoblastoutofit.ItwasBasilPoledouris’sscoreforConantheBarbarian.
ThatmustbeAnorak’swayoflettingmeknowI’montherighttrack,Ithought.
Iquicklylosttrackoftime.IforgotthatmyavatarwassittinginHalliday’sbedroomandthat,inreality,Iwassittinginmyhideout,huddledneartheelectricheater,tappingattheemptyairinfrontofme,enteringcommandsonanimaginarykeyboard.Alloftheinterveninglayersslippedaway,andIlostmyselfinthegamewithinthegame.
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InDungeonsofDaggorath,youcontrolyouravatarbytypingincommands,liketurnleftorgettorch,navigatingyourwaythroughamazeofvector-graphiccorridorswhilefightingoffspiders,stonegiants,blobs,andwraithsasyoudescenddeeperanddeeper,workingyourwaydownthroughthedungeon’sfiveincreasinglydifficultlevels.Ittookawhileforthecommandsandquirksofthegametocomebacktome,butoncetheydid,thegamewasn’tthatdifficulttosolve.Theabilitytosavemyplaceatanytimebasicallygavemeinfinitelives.(Althoughsavingandreloadinggamesfromthetapedriveprovedtobeaslowandtediousprocess.Itoftentookseveralattemptsandalotoffiddlingwiththecassettedeck’svolumeknob.)Savingmygamealsoallowedmetologoutforbathroombreaks,andtorechargemyspaceheater.
WhileIwasplaying,theConantheBarbarianscoreendedandthejamboxclickedoverandbegantoplaytheoppositesideofthetape,treatingmetothesynthesizer-ladenscoreforLadyhawke.Icouldn’twaittorubAech’snoseinthat.
Ireachedthelastlevelofthedungeonaroundfouro’clockinthemorningandfacedoffagainsttheEvilWizardofDaggorath.Afterdyingandreloadingtwice,Ifinallydefeatedhim,usinganElvishSwordandaRingofIce.Icompletedthegamebypickingupthewizard’smagicring,claim-ingitformyself.AsIdid,animageappearedonthescreen,showingawizardwithabrightstaronhisstaffandhisrobes.Thetextbelowread:behold!destinyawaitsthehandofanewwizard!
Iwaitedtoseewhatwouldhappen.Foramoment,nothingdid.ThenHalliday’sancientdot-matrixprintercametolifeandnoisilygroundoutasinglelineoftext.Thetractorfeedspooledthepageoutofthetopoftheprinter.Itorethesheetoffandreadwhatwasthere:congratulations!youhaveopenedthefirstgate!
Iglancedaroundandsawthattherewasnowawrought-irongateembeddedinthebedroomwall,intheexactspotwheretheWarGamesposterhadbeenasecondbefore.Inthecenterofthegatewasacopper-platedlockwithakeyhole.
IclimbedupontopofHalliday’sdesksoIcouldreachthelock,thenslidthe
CopperKeyintothekeyholeandturnedit.Theentiregatebegantoglow,asifthemetalhadbecomesuperheated,anditsdoubledoorsswunginward,revealingafieldofstars.Itappearedtobeaportalintodeepspace.
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“MyGod,it’sfullofstars,”Iheardadisembodiedvoicesay.Irecognizeditasasoundbitefromthefilm2010.ThenIheardalow,ominoushum,followedbyapieceofmusicfromthatfilm’sscore:“AlsoSprachZara-thustra”byRichardStrauss.
Ileanedforwardandlookedthroughtheportal.Leftandright,upanddown.Nothingbutanendlessfieldofstarsinalldirections.Squinting,Icouldalsomakeoutafewtinynebulaeandgalaxiesinthedistance.
Ididn’thesitate.Ijumpedintotheopengate.Itseemedtopullmein,andIbegantofall.ButIfellforwardinsteadofdown,andthestarsseemedtofallwithme.
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Ifoundmyselfstandinginanoldvideoarcade,playingGalaga.
Thegamewasalreadyinprogress.Ihaddoubleshipsandascoreof41,780points.Iglanceddownandsawthatmyhandswereonthecontrols.Afterasecondortwoofdisorientation,Ireflexivelybegantoplay,movingthejoystickleftjustintimetoavoidlosingoneofmyships.
Keepingoneeyeonthegame,Itriedtomakesenseofmysurroundings.InmyperipheralvisionIwasabletomakeoutaDigDuggameonmyleftandaZaxxonmachinetomyright.Behindme,Icouldhearacacophonyofdigitalcombatcomingfromdozensofothervintagearcadegames.Then,asIfinishedclearingthewaveonGalaga,Inoticedmyre-flectioninthegame’sscreen.Itwasn’tmyavatar’sfaceIsawthere.ItwasMatthewBroderick’sface.Ayoungpre–FerrisBuellerandpre-LadyhawkeMatthewBroderick.
ThenIknewwhereIwas.AndwhoIwas.
IwasDavidLightman,MatthewBroderick’scharacterinthemovieWarGames.Andthiswashisfirstsceneinthefilm.
Iwasinthemovie.
Itookaquickglancearoundandsawadetailedreplicaof20GrandPalace,thecombinationarcade/pizzajointfeaturedinthefilm.Kidswithfeathered’80shairstyleswereclusteredaroundeachofthegames.Otherssatinbooths,eatingpizzaanddrinkingsodas.“VideoFever”bytheBeepersblastedoutofajukeboxinthecorner.Everythinglookedandsoundedexactlyasitdidinthemovie.Hallidayhadcopiedeverylastdetailfromthefilmandre-createditasaninteractivesimulation.
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Holyshit.
I’dspentyearswonderingwhatchallengesawaitedmeinsidetheFirstGate.NeveroncehadIimaginedthis.ButIprobablyshouldhave.
WarGameshadbeenoneofHalliday’sall-timefavoritemovies.WhichwaswhyIhadwatcheditoverthreedozentimes.Well,that,andalsobecauseitwascompletelyawesome,withanold-schoolteenagecomputerhackerastheprotagonist.Anditlookedlikeallofthatresearchwasabouttopayoff.
NowIheardarepetitiveelectronicbeeping.ItseemedtobecomingfromtherightpocketofthejeansIwaswearing.Keepingmylefthandonthejoystick,Ireachedinmypocketandpulledoutadigitalwatch.Thereadoutsaid7:45a.m.WhenIpushedoneofthebuttonstosilencethealarm,awarningflashedinthecenterofmydisplay:david,you’regoingtobelateforschool!
IusedavoicecommandtopullupmyOASISmap,hopingtolearnwherethegatehadtransportedme.ButitturnedoutthatnotonlywasInolongeronMiddletown,IwasnolongerintheOASISatall.Mylocatoriconwasinthemiddleofablankscreen,whichmeantIwasOTM—offthemap.WhenI’dsteppedintothegate,ithadtransportedmyavatarintoastand-alonesimulation,avirtuallocationseparatefromtheOASIS.
ItseemedthattheonlywayIcouldgetbackwouldbetoclearthegatebycompletingthequest.Butifthiswasavideogame,howwasIsupposedtoplayit?Ifthiswasaquest,whatwasmygoal?IcontinuedtoplayGalagawhileponderingthesequestions.Asecondlater,ayoungboywalkedintothearcadeandcameovertome.
“Hi,David!”hesaid,hiseyesonmygame.
Irecognizedthiskidfromthemovie.HisnamewasHowie.Inthefilm,MatthewBroderick’scharacterhandshisGalagagameofftoHowiewhenherushesofftoschool.
“Hi,David!”theboyrepeated,inthesameexacttone.Ashespokethistime,hiswordsalsoappearedastext,superimposedacrossthebottomofmydisplay,likesubtitles.Belowthis,flashingred,werethewordsfinaldialoguewarning!
Ibegantounderstand.Thesimulationwaswarningmethatthiswasmyfinalchancetodeliverthenextlineofdialoguefromthemovie.IfIdidn’tsaytheline,Icouldguesswhatwouldprobablyhappennext.gameover.
ButIdidn’tpanic,becauseIknewthenextline.I’dseenWarGamessomanytimesthatIknewtheentirefilmbyheart.
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“Hi,Howie!”Isaid.ButthevoiceIheardinmyearphoneswasnotmyown.ItwasMatthewBroderick’svoice.AndasIspoketheline,thewarningonmydisplayvanishedandascoreof100pointsappeared,superimposedatthetopofmydisplay.
Irackedmybrain,tryingtomentallyreplaytherestofthescene.Thenextlinecametome.“How’sitgoing?”Isaid,andmyscorejumpedto200points.
“Prettygood,”Howiereplied.
Istartedtofeelgiddy.Thiswasincredible.Iwastotallyinsidethemovie.
Hallidayhadtransformedafifty-year-oldfilmintoareal-timeinteractivevideogame.Iwonderedhowlongithadtakenhimtoprogramthisthing.
Anotherwarningflashedonmydisplay:you’regoingtobelateforschool,david!hurry!
IsteppedawayfromtheGalagamachine.“Hey,youwannatakethisover?”IaskedHowie.
“Sure,”hereplied,grabbingthecontrols.“Thanks!”
Agreenpathappearedonthefloorofthearcade,leadingfromwhereIstoodtotheexit.Istartedtofollowit,thenrememberedtorunbackandgrabmynotebookoffoftheDigDuggame,justlikeDavidhadinthemovie.AsIdidthis,myscorejumpedanother100points,andactionbonus!appearedonmydisplay.
“Bye,David!”Howieshouted.
“Bye!”Ishoutedback.Another100points.Thiswaseasy!
Ifollowedthegreenpathoutof20GrandPalaceandupthebusystreetafewblocks.Iwasnowrunningalongatree-linedsuburbanstreet.Iroundedacornerandsawthatthepathleddirectlytoalargebrickbuilding.Thesignoverthe
doorsaidSnohomishHighSchool—David’sschool,andthesettingofthenextfewscenesinthemovie.
MymindwasracingasIraninside.IfallIhadtodowasrattleofflinesofdialoguefromWarGamesoncueforthenexttwohours,thiswasgoingtobeabreeze.Withoutevenknowingit,I’dtotallyoverprepared.IprobablyknewWarGamesevenbetterthanIknewRealGeniusandBetterOffDead.
AsIrandowntheemptyschoolhallway,anotherwarningflashedinfrontofme:you’relateforyourbiologyclass!
Icontinuedtosprintattopspeed,followingthegreenpath,whichwasnowpulsingbrightly.IteventuallyledmetothedoorofaclassroomonClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd110
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thesecondfloor.Throughthewindow,Icouldseethatclasswasalreadyinsession.Theteacherwasupattheboard.Isawmyseat—theonlyemptyoneintheroom.
ItwasrightbehindAllySheedy.
Iopenedthedoorandtiptoedinside,buttheteacherspottedmerightaway.
“Ah,David!Niceofyoutojoinus!”
...
MakingitallthewaytotheendofthemoviewoundupbeingalotharderthanIanticipated.Itonlytookmeaboutfifteenminutestofigureoutthe“rules”ofthegameandtosortouthowthescoringsystemworked.Iwasactuallyrequiredtodoalotmorethansimplyrecitedialogue.IalsohadtoperformalltheactionsthatBroderick’scharacterperformedinthefilm,inthecorrectwayandatthecorrectmoment.Itwaslikebeingforcedtoacttheleadingroleinaplayyou’dwatchedmanytimesbuthadneveractuallyrehearsed.
Formostofthemovie’sfirsthour,Iwasonedge,constantlytryingtothinkaheadtohavemynextlineofdialogueready.WheneverIflubbedalineordidn’tperformanactionattherightmoment,myscoredecreasedandawarningflashedonmydisplay.WhenImadetwomistakesinarow,afinalwarningmessageappeared.Iwasn’tsurewhatwouldhappenifIgotthreestrikesinarow,butmyguesswasthatI’deitherbeexpelledfromthegateorthatmyavatarwouldsimplybekilled.Iwasn’teagertofindoutwhichitwouldbe.
WheneverIcorrectlyperformedsevenactionsorrecitedsevenlinesofdialogueinarow,thegamewouldawardmea“CueCardPower-Up.”ThenexttimeIblankedonwhattodoorsay,IcouldselecttheCueCardiconandthecorrectactionorlineofdialoguewouldappearonmydisplay,sortoflikeateleprompter.
Duringscenesthatdidn’tinvolvemycharacter,thesimulationcuttoapassivethird-personperspective,andallIhadtodowassitbackandwatchthingsplayout,sortoflikewatchingacutsceneinanoldvideogame.Duringthesescenes,Icouldrelaxuntilmycharactercameon-screenagain.Duringoneofthesebreaks,ItriedtoaccessacopyofthemoviefrommyOASISconsole’sharddrive,withtheintentionofplayingitinawindowonmydisplaysoIcouldrefertoit.Butthesystemwouldn’tClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd111
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letme.Infact,IfoundthatIcouldn’topenanywindowsatallwhileinsidethegate.WhenItried,Igotawarning:nocheating.trytocheatagainandit’sgameover!
Luckily,itturnedoutthatIdidn’tneedanyhelp.OnceI’dcollectedthemaximumoffiveCueCardPower-UpsIbegantorelax,andthegameactuallystartedtobefun.Itwasn’thardtoenjoybeinginsideoneofmyfavoriteflicks.Afterawhile,IevendiscoveredthatIcouldearnbonuspointsbydeliveringalineintheexacttoneandwiththesameinflectionasinthefilm.
Ididn’tknowitatthetime,butI’djustbecomethefirstpersontoplayanentirelynewtypeofvideogame.WhenGSSgotwindoftheWarGames
simulationinsidetheFirstGate(andtheydidashorttimelater),thecompanyquicklypatentedtheideaandbegantobuyuptherightstooldmoviesandTVshowsandconvertthemintoimmersiveinteractivegamesthattheydubbedFlicksyncs.Flicksyncsbecamewildlypopular.ThereturnedouttobeahugemarketforgamesthatallowedpeopletoplayaleadingroleinoneoftheirfavoriteoldmoviesorTVseries.
BythetimeIreachedthefinalscenesofthemovie,Iwasstartingtogettwitchyfromexhaustion.I’dnowbeenupforovertwenty-fourhoursstraight,jackedintheentiretime.ThelastactionIhadtoperformwasinstructingtheWOPRsupercomputerto“playitself”attic-tac-toe.SinceeverygametheWOPRplayedendedinatie,thishadtheimprobableeffectofteachingtheartificiallyintelligentcomputerthatglobalthermonuclearwar,too,wasagameinwhich“theonlywinningmoveisnottoplay.”ThispreventedtheWOPRfromlaunchingalloftheUnitedStates’
ICBMsattheSovietUnion.
I,DavidLightman,ateenagecomputergeekfromsuburbanSeattle,hadsingle-handedlypreventedtheendofhumancivilization.
TheNORADcommandcentereruptedincelebration,andIwaitedforthemovie’sendcreditstoroll.Buttheydidn’t.Instead,allthecharactersaroundmevanished,leavingmealoneinthegiantwarroom.WhenIcheckedmyavatar’sreflectioninacomputermonitor,IsawthatInolongerlookedlikeMatthewBroderick.I’dchangedbackintoParzival.
IglancedaroundtheemptyNORADcommandcenter,wonderingwhatIwassupposedtodonext.Thenallofthegiantvideodisplayscreensinfrontofmewentblank,andfourlinesofglowinggreentextappearedonthem.Itwasanotherriddle:
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ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
inadwellinglongneglected
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Istoodthereforasecond,staringatthewordsinstunnedsilence.ThenIsnappedoutofmydazeandquicklytookseveralscreenshotsofthetext.
AsIwasdoingthis,theCopperGatereappeared,embeddedinanearbywall.Thegatewasopen,andthroughitIcouldseeHalliday’sbedroom.Itwastheexit.Thewayout.
I’ddoneit.I’dclearedtheFirstGate.
Iglancedbackupattheriddleontheviewscreens.IthadtakenmeyearstodeciphertheLimerickandlocatetheCopperKey.Atfirstglance,thisnewriddleabouttheJadeKeylookedlikeitmighttakejustaslongtofigureout.Ididn’tunderstandawordofit.ButIwasalsodeadonmyfeet,andinnoconditionforfurtherpuzzle-solving.Icouldbarelykeepmyeyesopen.
IjumpedthroughtheexitandlandedwithathudonthefloorofHalliday’sbedroom.WhenIturnedaroundandlookedatthewall,IsawthatthegatewasnowgoneandtheWarGamesposterhadreappearedinitsplace.
Icheckedmyavatar’sstatsandsawthatI’dbeenawardedseveralhundredthousandexperiencepointsforclearingthegate,enoughtoraisemyavatarfromtenthleveluptotwentiethinoneshot.ThenIcheckedtheScoreboard:
HIGHSCORES:
1.Parzival
110000
2.Art3mis
9000
3.JDH
0000000
4.JDH
0000000
5.JDH
0000000
6.JDH
0000000
7.JDH
0000000
8.JDH
0000000
9.JDH
0000000
10.JDH
0000000
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Myscorehadincreasedby100,000points,andacopper-coloredgateiconnow
appearedbesideit.Themedia(andeveryoneelse)hadprobablybeenmonitoringtheScoreboardsincelastnight,sonowthewholeworldwouldknowthatI’dclearedtheFirstGate.
Iwastooexhaustedtoconsidertheimplications.AllIcouldthinkaboutwassleep.
Irandownstairsandintothekitchen.ThekeystotheHallidayfamilycarwereonapegboardnexttotherefrigerator.Igrabbedthemandrushedoutside.Thecar(theonethatwasn’tuponblocks)wasa1982FordThunderbird.Theenginestartedonthesecondtry.Ibackedoutofthedrivewayanddrovetothebusstation.
Fromthere,IteleportedbacktothetransportterminalnexttomyschoolonLudus.ThenIwenttomylockeranddumpedallofmyavatar’snewfoundtreasure,armor,andweaponsinsidebeforefinallyloggingoutoftheOASIS.
WhenIpulledoffmyvisor,itwas6:17a.m.Irubbedmybloodshoteyesandgazedaroundthedarkinteriorofmyhideout,tryingtowrapmyheadaroundeverythingthathadjusthappened.
Isuddenlyrealizedhowcolditwasinthevan.I’dbeenusingthetinyspaceheateroffandonallnightandhaddrainedthebatteries.Iwaswaytootiredtogetontheexercisebikeandrechargethem.AndIdidn’thavetheenergytomakethetrekbacktomyaunt’strailer,either.Butthesunwouldbeupsoon,soIknewIcouldcrashthereinmyhideoutwithoutworryingthatIwouldfreezetodeath.
Islidoffofmychairandontothefloor,thencurledupinmysleepingbag.AsIclosedmyeyes,IbegantopondertheriddleoftheJadeKey.Butsleepswallowedmewholeafewsecondslater.
Ihadadream.Iwasstandingaloneinthecenterofascorchedbattlefield,withseveraldifferentarmiesarrayedagainstme.AnarmyofSixersstoodinfrontofme,andseveraldifferentgunterclanssurroundedmeonallotherflanks,brandishingswordsandgunsandweaponsofpowerfulmagic.
Ilookeddownatmybody.Itwasn’tParzival’sbody;itwasmyown.
AndIwaswearingarmormadeofpaper.Inmyrighthandwasatoyplasticsword,andinmyleftwasalargeglassegg.Itlookedexactlyliketheglassegg
thatcausesTomCruise’scharactersomuchgriefinRiskyBusiness,butsomehowIknewthat,inthecontextofmydream,itwassupposedtobeHalliday’sEasteregg.
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AndIwasstandingthere,outintheopen,holdingitforalltheworldtosee.
Inunison,thearmiesofmyenemiesletoutafiercebattlecryandchargedtowardme.Theyconvergedonmypositionwithbaredteethandbloodintheireyes.Theywerecomingtotaketheegg,andtherewasnothingIcoulddotostopthem.
IknewIwasdreaming,andsoIexpectedtowakeupbeforetheyreachedme.ButIdidn’t.Thedreamcontinuedastheeggwasrippedfrommygrasp,andIfeltmyselfbeingtorntoshreds.
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Isleptforovertwelvehoursandmissedschoolentirely.
WhenIfinallywokeup,Irubbedmyeyesandlaythereinsilenceawhile,tryingtoconvincemyselfthattheeventsofthepreviousdayhadactuallyoccurred.Itallseemedlikeadreamtomenow.Fartoogoodtobereal.Eventually,Igrabbedmyvisorandgotonlinetofindoutforsure.
EverysinglenewsfeedseemedtobeshowingascreenshotoftheScoreboard.Andmyavatar’snamewasthereatthetop,infirstplace.Art3miswasstillin
secondplace,butthescorebesidehernamehadnowincreasedto109,000,just1,000pointslessthanmine.And,likeme,shehadacopper-coloredgateiconbesideherscorenowtoo.
Soshe’ddoneit.WhileI’dslept,she’ddecipheredtheinscriptionontheCopperKey.Thenshe’dgonetoMiddletown,locatedthegate,andmadeitallthewaythroughWarGames,justafewhoursafterIhad.
Inolongerfeltquitesoimpressedwithmyself.
Iflippedpastafewmorechannelsbeforestoppingononeofthemajornewsfeednetworks,whereIsawtwomensittinginfrontofascreenshotoftheScoreboard.Themanontheleft,somemiddle-agedintellectualtypebilledas“EdgarNash,GunterExpert”appearedtobeexplainingthescorestothenewsfeedanchorbesidehim.
“—appearsthattheavatarnamedParzivalreceivedslightlymorepointsforbeingthefirsttofindtheCopperKey,”Nashsaid,pointingtotheScoreboard.“Then,earlythismorning,Parzival’sscoreincreasedanotheronehundredthousandpoints,andaCopperGateiconappearedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd116
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besidehisscore.ThesamechangeoccurredtoArt3mis’sscoreafewhourslater.Thisseemstoindicatethatbothofthemhavenowcompletedthefirstofthethreegates.”
“ThefamousThreeGatesthatJamesHallidayspokeofintheAnorak’sInvitationvideo?”theanchorsaid.
“Theverysame.”
“ButMr.Nash.Afterfiveyears,howisitthattwoavatarsaccomplishedthisfeatonthesameday,withinjustafewhoursofeachother?”
“Well,Ithinkthere’sonlyoneplausibleanswer.Thesetwopeople,ParzivalandArt3mis,mustbeworkingtogether.They’reprobablybothmembersofwhatisknownasa‘gunterclan.’Thesearegroupsofegghunterswho—”
Ifrownedandchangedthechannel,surfingthefeedsuntilIsawanoverlyenthusiasticreporterinterviewingOgdenMorrowviasatellite.TheOgdenMorrow.
“—joininguslivefromhishomeinOregon.Thanksforbeingwithustoday,Mr.Morrow!”
“Noproblem,”Morrowreplied.IthadbeenalmostsixyearssinceMorrowhadlastspokentothemedia,buthedidn’tseemtohaveagedaday.
HiswildgrayhairandlongbeardmadehimlooklikeacrossbetweenAlbertEinsteinandSantaClaus.Thatcomparisonwasalsoaprettygooddescriptionofhispersonality.
Thereporterclearedhisthroat,obviouslyabitnervous.“Letmestartoffbyaskingwhatyourreactionistotheeventsofthelasttwenty-fourhours.WereyousurprisedtoseethosenamesappearonHalliday’sScoreboard?”
“Surprised?Yes,alittle,Isuppose.But‘excited’isprobablyabetterword.Likeeveryoneelse,I’vebeenwatchingandwaitingforthistohappen.Ofcourse,Iwasn’tsureifI’dstillbealivewhenitfinallydid!I’mgladthatIam.It’sallveryexciting,isn’tit?”
“Doyouthinkthesetwogunters,ParzivalandArt3mis,areworkingtogether?”
“Ihavenoidea.Isupposeit’spossible.”
“Asyouknow,GregariousSimulationSystemskeepsallOASISuserrecordsconfidential,sowehavenowayofknowingtheirtrueidentities.Doyouthinkeitherofthemwillcomeforwardandrevealthemselvestothepublic?”
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“Notifthey’resmart,theywon’t,”Morrowsaid,adjustinghiswire-rimmedspectacles.“IfIwereintheirshoes,I’ddoeverythingpossibletoremainanonymous.”
“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Becauseoncetheworlddiscoverswhotheyreallyare,they’llneverhaveamoment’speaceafterward.IfpeoplethinkyoucanhelpthemfindHalliday’segg,they’llneverleaveyoualone.Trustme,Iknowfromexperience.”
“Yes,Isupposeyoudo.”Thereporterflashedafakesmile.“However,thisnetworkhascontactedbothParzivalandArt3misviae-mail,andwe’veextendedgenerousmonetaryofferstoeachoftheminreturnforanexclusiveinterview,eitherintheOASISorhereintherealworld.”
“I’msurethey’rereceivingmanysuchoffers.ButIdoubtthey’llaccept,”Morrowsaid.Thenhelookedstraightintothecamera,andIfeltasifhewasnowspeakingdirectlytome.“Anyonesmartenoughtoaccomplishwhattheyhaveshouldknowbetterthantoriskeverythingbytalkingtothevulturesinthemedia.”
Thereporterchuckleduncomfortably.“Ah,Mr.Morrow...Ireallydon’tthinkthat’scalledfor.”
Morrowshrugged.“Toobad.Ido.”
Thereporterclearedhisthroatagain.“Well,movingon...DoyouhaveanypredictionsaboutwhatchangeswemightseeontheScoreboardintheweekstocome?”
“I’mbettingthatthoseothereightemptyslotswillfillupprettyquickly.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkso?”
“Onepersoncankeepasecret,butnottwo,”hereplied,staringdirectlyintothecameraagain.“Idon’tknow.MaybeI’mwrong.ButIamsureofonething.TheSixersaregoingtouseeverydirtytrickattheirdisposaltolearnthelocationoftheCopperKeyandtheFirstGate.”
“You’rereferringtotheemployeesofInnovativeOnlineIndustries?”
“Yes.IOI.TheSixers.TheirsolepurposeistoexploitloopholesinthecontestrulesandsubverttheintentionofJim’swill.TheverysouloftheOASISisatstakehere.ThelastthingJimwouldhavewantedisforhiscreationtofallintothehandsofafascistmultinationalconglomeratelikeIOI.”
“Mr.Morrow,IOIownsthisnetwork....”
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“Ofcoursetheydo!”Morrowshoutedgleefully.“Theyownpracticallyeverything!Includingyou,prettyboy!Imean,didtheytattooaUPCcodeonyourasswhentheyhiredyoutositthereandspouttheircorporatepropaganda?”
Thereporterbegantostutter,glancingnervouslyatsomethingoffcamera.
“Quick!”Morrowsaid.“YoubettercutmeoffbeforeIsayanythingelse!”Hebrokeupintogalesoflaughterjustasthenetworkcuthissatellitefeed.
Thereportertookafewsecondstoregroup,thensaid,“Thankyouagainforjoiningustoday,Mr.Morrow.Unfortunatelythat’sallthetimewehavetospeakwithhim.Nowlet’sgobacktoJudy,whoisstandingbywithapanelofrenownedHallidayscholars—”
Ismiledandclosedthevidfeedwindow,ponderingtheoldman’sadvice.I’dalwayssuspectedthatMorrowknewmoreaboutthecontestthanhewaslettingon.
...
MorrowandHallidayhadgrownuptogether,foundedacompanytogether,andchangedtheworldtogether.ButMorrowhadledaverydifferentlifefromHalliday’s—oneinvolvingamuchgreaterconnectiontohumanity.Andagreat
dealmoretragedy.
Duringthemid-’90s,backwhenGregariousSimulationSystemswasstilljustGregariousGames,Morrowhadmarriedhishigh-schoolsweetheart,KiraUnderwood.KirawasbornandraisedinLondon.(HerbirthnamewasKaren,butshe’dinsistedonbeingcalledKiraeversinceherfirstviewingofTheDarkCrystal.)Morrowmetherwhenshespentherjunioryearasanexchangestudentathishighschool.Inhisautobiography,Morrowwrotethatshewasthe“quintessentialgeekgirl,”unabashedlyobsessedwithMontyPython,comicbooks,fantasynovels,andvideogames.SheandMorrowsharedafewclassesatschool,andhewassmittenwithheralmostimmediately.HeinvitedhertoattendhisweeklyDungeons&Dragonsgamingsessions(justashe’ddonewithHallidayafewyearsearlier),andtohissurprise,sheaccepted.“Shebecamethelonefemaleinourweeklygaminggroup,”Morrowwrote.“Andeverysingleoneoftheguysdevelopedamassivecrushonher,includingJim.Shewasactuallytheonewhogavehimthenickname‘Anorak,’aBritishslangtermClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd119
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foranobsessivegeek.IthinkJimadopteditasthenameofhisDandD
charactertoimpressher.Ormaybeitwashiswayoftryingtoletherknowhewasinonthejoke.TheoppositesexmadeJimextremelynervous,andKirawastheonlygirlIeversawhimspeaktoinarelaxedmanner.Buteventhen,itwasonlyincharacter,asAnorak,duringthecourseofourgamingsessions.AndhewouldonlyaddressherasLeucosia,thenameofherDandDcharacter.”
OgdenandKirabegandating.Bytheendoftheschoolyear,whenitwastimeforhertoreturnhometoLondon,thetwoofthemhadopenlydeclaredtheirloveforeachother.Theykeptintouchduringtheirremainingyearofschoolbye-mailingeveryday,usinganearlypre-InternetcomputerbulletinboardnetworkcalledFidoNet.Whentheybothgraduatedfromhighschool,KirareturnedtotheStates,movedinwithMorrow,andbecameoneofGregariousGames’firstemployees.(Forthefirsttwoyears,shewastheirentireartdepartment.)TheygotengagedafewyearsafterthelaunchoftheOASIS.Theyweremarrieda
yearlater,atwhichtimeKiraresignedfromherpositionasanartisticdirectoratGSS.
(Shewasamillionairenowtoo,thankstohercompanystockoptions.)MorrowstayedonatGSSforfivemoreyears.Then,inthesummerof2022,heannouncedhewasleavingthecompany.Atthetime,heclaimeditwasfor“personalreasons.”Butyearslater,Morrowwroteinhisautobiographythathe’dleftGSSbecause“wewerenolongerinthevideogamebusiness,”andbecausehefeltthattheOASIShadevolvedintosomethinghorrible.“Ithadbecomeaself-imposedprisonforhumanity,”hewrote.
“Apleasantplacefortheworldtohidefromitsproblemswhilehumancivilizationslowlycollapses,primarilyduetoneglect.”
RumorsalsosurfacedthatMorrowhadchosentoleavebecausehe’dhadahugefalling-outwithHalliday.Neitherofthemwouldconfirmordenytheserumors,andnooneseemedtoknowwhatsortofdisputehadendedtheirlongfriendship.ButsourceswithinthecompanysaidthatatthetimeofMorrow’sresignation,heandHallidayhadnotspokentoeachotherdirectlyinseveralyears.Evenso,whenMorrowleftGSS,hesoldhisentireshareofthecompanydirectlytoHalliday,foranundis-closedsum.
OgdenandKira“retired”totheirhomeinOregonandstartedanon-profiteducationalsoftwarecompany,HalcydoniaInteractive,whichcreatedfreeinteractiveadventuregamesforkids.I’dgrownupplayingtheseClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd120
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games,allofwhichweresetinthemagicalkingdomofHalcydonia.Morrow’sgameshadtransportedmeoutofmygrimsurroundingsasalonelykidgrowingupinthestacks.They’dalsotaughtmehowtodomathandsolvepuzzleswhilebuildingmyself-esteem.Inaway,theMorrowswereamongmyveryfirstteachers.
Forthenextdecade,OgdenandKiraenjoyedapeaceful,happyexistence,living
andworkinginrelativeseclusion.Theytriedtohavechildren,butitwasn’tinthecardsforthem.They’dbeguntoconsideradoptionwhen,inthewinterof2034,Kirawaskilledinacaraccidentonanicymountainroadjustafewmilesfromtheirhome.
Afterthat,OgdencontinuedtorunHalcydoniaInteractiveonhisown.
HemanagedtostayoutofthelimelightuntilthemorningofHalliday’sdeath,whenhishomewasbesiegedbythemedia.AsHalliday’sformerclosestfriend,everyoneassumedhealonecouldexplainwhythedeceasedbillionairehadputhisentirefortuneupforgrabs.Morroweventuallyheldapressconferencejusttogeteveryoneoffhisback.Itwasthelasttimehe’dspokentothemedia,untiltoday.I’dwatchedthevideoofthatpressconferencemany,manytimes.
Morrowhadbegunitbyreadingabriefstatement,sayingthathehadn’tseenorspokentoHallidayinoveradecade.“Wehadafalling-out,”hesaid,“andthatissomethingIrefusetodiscuss,noworinthefuture.Sufficeittosay,IhavenotcommunicatedwithJamesHallidayinovertenyears.”
“ThenwhydidHallidayleaveyouhisvastcollectionofclassiccoin-operatedvideogames?”areporterasked.“Allofhisothermaterialpossessionsaretobeauctionedoff.Ifyouwerenolongerfriends,whyareyoutheonlypersonheleftanythingto?”
“Ihavenoidea,”Morrowsaidsimply.
AnotherreporteraskedMorrowifheplannedonlookingforHalliday’sEasteregghimself,sincehe’dknownHallidaysowellandwouldthereforeprobablyhaveabetterchancethananyoneoffindingit.MorrowremindedthereporterthatthecontestruleslaidoutinHalliday’swillstatedthatnoonewhohadeverworkedforGregariousSimulationSystems,oranyoneintheirimmediatefamilies,waseligibletotakepartinthecontest.
“DidyouhaveanyideawhatHallidaywasworkingonallthoseyearshewasinseclusion?”anotherreporterasked.
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“No.Isuspectedhemightbeworkingonsomenewgame.Jimwasalwaysworkingonanewgame.Forhim,makinggameswasasnecessaryasbreathing.ButIneverimaginedhewasplanningsomething...ofthismagnitude.”
“AsthepersonwhoknewJamesHallidaythebest,doyouhaveanyadviceforthemillionsofpeoplewhoarenowsearchingforhisEasteregg?
Wheredoyouthinkpeopleshouldstartlookingforit?”
“IthinkJimmadethatprettyobvious,”Morrowreplied,tappingafingeragainsthistemple,justasHallidayhadintheAnorak’sInvitationvideo.“Jimalwayswantedeveryonetosharehisobsessions,tolovethesamethingsheloved.Ithinkthiscontestishiswayofgivingtheentireworldanincentivetodojustthat.”
...
IclosedmyfileonMorrowandcheckedmye-mail.ThesysteminformedmethatI’dreceivedovertwomillionnewunsolicitedmessages.Thesewereautomaticallyfiledinaseparatefolder,soIcouldsortthroughthemlater.Onlytwonewmessageswereleftinmyinbox,frompeopleonmyauthorizedcontactlist.OnewasfromAech.TheotherwasfromArt3mis.
IopenedAech’smessagefirst.Itwasvidmail,andhisavatar’sfaceappearedinawindow.“Holyshit!”heshouted.“Idon’tbelievethis!Nowyou’veclearedthemotherfuckingFirstGateandyoustillhaven’tphonedme?Callmyass!Now!Thesecondyougetthis!”
IconsideredwaitingafewdaystocallAechbackbutquicklyabandonedthatidea.Ineededtotalktosomeoneaboutallthis,andAechwasmybestfriend.IftherewasanyoneIcouldtrust,itwashim.
Hepickeduponthefirstring,andhisavatarappearedinanewwindowinfrontofme.“Youdog!”heshouted.“Youbrilliant,sly,deviousdog!”
“Hey,Aech,”Isaid,tryingtodeadpanit.“What’snew?”
“What’snew?What’snew?Youmean,otherthan,youknow,seeingmybestfriend’snameappearatthetopoftheScoreboard?Otherthanthat,youmean?”Heleanedforwardsothathismouthcompletelyfilledthevidfeedwindowandshouted,“Otherthanthat,notmuch!Notmuchnewatall!”
Ilaughed.“Sorryittookmeawhiletocallyou.Ihadkindofalatenight.”
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“Noshit,youhadalatenight!”hesaid.“Lookatyou!Howcanyoubesocalm!Don’tyourealizewhatthismeans?Thisishuge!Thisisbeyondepic!Imean...congratu-freakin’-lations,man!”Hebegantobowrepeatedly.“Iamnotworthy!”
“Cutitout,OK?It’sreallynotabigdeal.Ihaven’tactuallywonanythingyet....”
“Notabigdeal!”hecried.“Not.A.Big.Deal?Areyoukiddingme?
You’realegendnow,man!YoujustbecamethefirstgunterinhistorytofindtheCopperKey!AndcleartheFirstGate!Youareagod,fromthismomentforth!Doyounotrealizethis,fool?”
“Seriously.Stopit.I’malreadyfreakedoutenoughasitis.”
“Haveyouseenthenews?Thewholeworldisfreakingout!Andthegunterboardsaregoingapeshit!Andeveryoneistalkingaboutyou,amigo.”
“Iknow.Listen,Ihopeyou’renotpissedatmeforkeepingyouinthedark.IfeltreallyweirdaboutnotreturningyourcallsortellingyouwhatIwasupto....”
“Oh,comeon!”Herolledhiseyesdismissively.“YouknowdamnwellthatifI’dbeeninyourshoes,Iwouldhavedonethesamething.That’showthegameisplayed.But”—histonegrewmoreserious—“Iamcurioustoknowhowthat
Art3mischickhappenedtofindtheCopperKeyandclearthegaterightafteryoudid.Everyoneseemstothinkyoutwowereworkingtogether,butIknowthat’shorseshit.Sowhathappened?
Wasshefollowingyouorsomething?”
Ishookmyhead.“No,shefoundthekey’shidingplacebeforeIdid.
Lastmonth,shesaid.Shejustwasn’tabletoobtainthekeyuntilnow.”
Iwassilentforasecond.“Ican’treallygointothedetailswithout,youknow—”
Aechheldupbothhands.“Noworries.Itotallyunderstand.Iwouldn’twantforyoutoaccidentallydropanyhints.”HeflashedhistrademarkCheshiregrin,andhisgleamingwhiteteethseemedtotakeuphalfofthevidfeedwindow.“Actually,IshouldletyouknowwhereIamrightnow....”
Headjustedhisvidfeed’svirtualcamerasothatitpulledbackfromatightshotofhisfacetoamuchwidershotthatrevealedwherehewas—
standingnexttotheflat-toppedhill,justoutsidetheentrancetotheTombofHorrors.
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Myjawdropped.“Howinthehell—?”
“Well,whenIsawyournamealloverthenewsfeedslastnight,itoccurredtomethatforaslongasI’veknownyou,you’veneverhadthedoughtodomuchtraveling.Anytraveling,really.SoIfiguredthatifyou’dfoundthehidingplaceoftheCopperKey,itprobablyhadtobesomewhereclosetoLudus.OrmaybeevenonLudus.”
“Welldone,”Isaid,andImeantit.
“Notreally.Ispenthoursrackingmypea-sizedbrainbeforeIfinallythoughttosearchthemapofLudusforthesurfacefeaturesdescribedintheTombofHorrorsmodule.ButonceIdid,everythingelseclickedintoplace.AndhereIam.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah,well,itwasprettyeasyonceyoupointedmeintherightdirection.”Heglancedbackoverhisshoulderatthetomb.“I’vebeensearchingforthisplaceforyears,andallthistimeitwaswithinwalkingdistanceofmyschool!Ifeellikeatotalmoronfornotfiguringitoutonmyown.”
“You’renotamoron,”Isaid.“YoudecipheredtheLimerickonyourown,otherwiseyouwouldn’tevenknowabouttheTombofHorrorsmodule,right?”
“So,you’renotpissed?”hesaid.“ThatItookadvantageofmyinsideinfo?”
Ishookmyhead.“Noway.Iwouldhavedonethesamething.”
“Well,regardless,Ioweyouone.AndIwon’tforgetit.”
Inoddedtowardthetombbehindhim.“Haveyoubeeninsideyet?”
“Yeah.Icamebackupheretocallyou,whileIwaitfortheservertoresetatmidnight.Thetombisemptyrightnow,becauseyourfriend,Art3mis,alreadyblewthroughhereearliertoday.”
“We’renotfriends,”Isaid.“Shejustshowedup,afewminutesafterIgotthekey.”
“Didyouguysthrowdown?”
“No.Thetombisano-PvPzone.”Iglancedatthetime.“Lookslikeyou’vestillgotafewhourstokillbeforethereset.”
“Yeah.I’vebeenstudyingtheoriginalDandDmodule,tryingtopreparemyself,”hesaid.“Wannagivemeanytips?”
Igrinned.“No.Notreally.”
“Didn’tthinkso.”Hewassilentforafewseconds.“Listen,IhavetoaskClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd124
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yousomething,”hesaid.“Doesanyoneatyourschoolknowyouravatar’sname?”
“No.I’vebeencarefultokeepitasecret.NoonethereknowsmeasParzival.Noteventheteachers.”
“Good,”hesaid.“Itookthesameprecaution.Unfortunately,severalofthegunterswhofrequenttheBasementknowthatwebothattendschoolonLudus,sotheymightbeabletoconnectthedots.I’mworriedaboutoneinparticular....”
Ifeltarushofpanic.“I-r0k?”
Aechnodded.“He’sbeencallingmenonstopsinceyournameappearedontheScoreboard,askingwhatIknow.Iplayeddumb,andheseemedtobuyit.ButifmynameshowsupontheScoreboardtoo,youcanbethe’llstartbraggingthatheknowsus.AndwhenhestartstellingotherguntersthatyouandIarebothstudentsonLudus—”
“Shit!”Icursed.“TheneverygunterinthesimwillbeheadedheretosearchfortheCopperKey.”
“Right,”Aechsaid.“Andbeforelong,thelocationofthetombwillbecommonknowledge.”
Isighed.“Well,thenyoubettergetthekeybeforethathappens.”
“I’lldomybest.”HeheldupacopyoftheTombofHorrorsmodule.
“Now,ifyou’llexcuseme,I’mgoingtorereadthisthingforthehundredthtimetoday.”
“Goodluck,Aech,”Isaid.“Givemeacallonceyou’veclearedthegate.”
“IfIclearthegate...”
“Youwill,”Isaid.“Andwhenyoudo,weshouldmeetintheBasementtotalk.”
“Yougotit,amigo.”
Hewavedgood-byeandwasabouttoendthecallwhenIspokeup.
“Hey,Aech?”
“Yeah?”
“Youmightwanttobrushuponyourjoustingskills,”Isaid.“Youknow,betweennowandmidnight.”
Helookedpuzzledforamoment;thenasmileofunderstandingspreadacrosshisface.“Igotya,”hesaid.“Thanks,pal.”
“Goodluck.”
Ashisvidfeedwindowwinkedout,IfoundmyselfwonderinghowAechandIwouldremainfriendsthrougheverythingthatlayahead.Nei-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd125
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therofuswantedtoworkasateam,sofromhereonoutwewouldbeindirectcompetitionwitheachother.WouldIeventuallyregrethelpinghimtoday?OrcometoresentthatI’dunwittinglyledhimtotheCopperKey’shidingplace?
Ipushedthesethoughtsasideandopenedthee-mailfromArt3mis.Itwasanold-fashionedtextmessage.
DearParzival,
Congrats!See?You’refamousnow,justlikeIsaid.Althoughitlookslikewe’vebothbeenthrustintothelimelight.Kindascary,eh?
Thanksforthetipaboutplayingontheleftside.Youwereright.Somehow,thatdidthetrick.Butdon’tgothinkingIoweyouanyfavors,mister.:-)TheFirstGatewasprettywild,wasn’tit?NotatallwhatIexpected.ItwouldhavebeencoolifHallidayhadgivenmetheoptiontoplayAllySheedyinstead,butwhatcanyoudo?
Thisnewriddleisarealhead-scratcher,isn’tit?Ihopeitdoesn’ttakeusanotherfiveyearstodecipherit.
Anyhow,Ijustwantedtosaythatitwasanhonortomeetyou.Ihopeourpathscrossagainsoon.
Sincerely,
Art3mis
ps—Enjoybeing#1whileyoucan,pal.Itwon’tlastforlong.
Irereadhermessageseveraltimes,grinninglikeadopeyschoolboy.
ThenItypedoutmyreply:
DearArt3mis,
Congratulationstoyou,too.Youweren’tkidding.Competitionclearlybringsoutthebestinyou.
You’rewelcomeforthetipaboutplayingontheleft.Youtotallyowemeafavornow.;-)Thenewriddleisacinch.IthinkI’vealreadygotitfiguredout,actually.What’sthehold-uponyourend?
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Itwasanhonortomeetyou,too.Ifyoueverfeellikehangingoutinachatroom,letmeknow.
MTFBWYA,
Parzival
ps—Areyouchallengingme?Bringthepain,woman.
Afterrewritingitafewdozentimes,ItappedtheSendbutton.ThenIpulledupmyscreenshotoftheJadeKeyriddleandbegantostudyit,syllablebysyllable.ButIcouldn’tseemtoconcentrate.NomatterhowhardItriedtofocus,mymindkeptdriftingbacktoArt3mis.
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AechclearedtheFirstGateearlythenextday.
HisnameappearedontheScoreboardinthirdplace,withascoreof108,000points.ThevalueofobtainingtheCopperKeyhaddroppedanother1,000pointsforhim,butthevalueofclearingtheFirstGateremainedunchangedat100,000.
Ireturnedtoschoolthatsamemorning.I’dconsideredcallinginsick,butwasconcernedthatmyabsencemightraisesuspicions.WhenIgotthere,IrealizedIshouldn’thaveworried.DuetothesuddenrenewedinterestintheHunt,overhalfofthestudentbody,andquiteafewoftheteachers,didn’tbothershowingup.SinceeveryoneatschoolknewmyavatarbythenameWade3,noonepaidanyattentiontome.Roamingthehallsunnoticed,IdecidedthatIenjoyedhavingasecretidentity.ItmademefeellikeClarkKentorPeterParker.Ithoughtmydadwouldprobablyhavegottenakickoutofthat.
Thatafternoon,I-r0ksente-mailstoAechandme,attemptingtoblackmailus.Hesaidthatifwedidn’ttellhimhowtofindtheCopperKeyandtheFirstGate,hewouldpostwhatheknewaboutustoeveryguntermessageboardhecouldfi
nd.Whenwerefused,hemadegoodonhisthreatandbegantellinganyonewhowouldlistenthatAechandIwerebothstudentsonLudus.Ofcourse,hehadnowayofprovinghereallyknewus,andbythattimetherewerehundredsofotherguntersclaim-ingtobeourclosepersonalfriends,soAechandIwerehopinghispostswouldgounnoticed.Buttheydidn’t,ofcourse.Atleasttwoothergunt-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd128
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ersweresharpenoughtoconnectthedotsbetweenLudus,theLimerick,andtheTombofHorrors.ThedayafterI-r0kletthecatoutofthebag,thename“Daito”appearedinthefourthslotontheScoreboard.Then,lessthanfifteenminuteslater,thename“Shoto”appearedinthefifthslot.
Somehow,they’dbothobtainedacopyoftheCopperKeyonthesameday,withoutwaitingfortheservertoresetatmidnight.Then,afewhourslater,bothDaitoandShotoclearedtheFirstGate.
Noonehadeverheardoftheseavatarsbefore,buttheirnamesseemedtoindicatetheywereworkingtogether,eitherasaduooraspartofaclan.
ShotoanddaitoweretheJapanesenamesfortheshortandlongswordswornbysamurai.Whenwornasaset,thetwoswordswerecalleddaisho,andthisquicklybecamethenicknamebywhichthetwoofthemwereknown.
OnlyfourdayshadpassedsincemynamehadfirstappearedontheScoreboard,andonenewnamehadappearedbelowmineoneachsubsequentday.Thesecretwasoutnow,andthehuntseemedtobeshiftingintohighgear.
Allweek,Iwasunabletofocusonanythingmyteachersweresaying.Luckily,Ionlyhadtwomonthsofschoolleft,andI’dalreadyearnedenoughcreditstograduate,evenifIcoastedfromhereonout.SoIdriftedfromoneclasstothenextinadaze,puzzlingovertheJadeKeyriddle,recitingitagainandagaininmymind.
ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
inadwellinglongneglected
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
AccordingtomyEnglishLittextbook,apoemwithfourlinesoftextandanalternate-linerhymeschemewasknownasaquatrain,sothatbecamemynicknamefortheriddle.Eachnightafterschool,IloggedoutoftheOASISandfilledtheblankpagesofmygraildiarywithpossibleinterpretationsoftheQuatrain.
What“captain”wasAnoraktalkingabout?CaptainKangaroo?CaptainAmerica?CaptainBuckRogersinthetwenty-fifthcentury?
Andwhereinthehellwasthis“dwellinglongneglected”?Thatpartoftheclueseemedmaddeninglynonspecific.Halliday’sboyhoodhomeonClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd129
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Middletowncouldn’treallybeclassifiedas“neglected,”butmaybehewastalkingaboutadifferenthouseinhishometown?Thatseemedtooeasy,andtooclosetothehidingplaceoftheCopperKey.
Atfirst,IthoughttheneglecteddwellingmightbeareferencetoRevengeoftheNerds,oneofHalliday’sfavoritefilms.Inthatmovie,thenerdsofthetitlerentadilapidatedhouseandfixitup(duringaclassic
’80smusicmontage).Ivisitedare-creationoftheRevengeoftheNerdshouseontheplanetSkolnickandspentadaysearchingit,butitprovedtobeadeadend.
ThelasttwolinesoftheQuatrainwerealsoacompletemystery.Theyseemedtosaythatonceyoufoundtheneglecteddwelling,youwouldhavetocollecta
bunchof“trophies”andthenblowsomekindofwhistle.Ordidthatlinemeanblowthewhistleinthecolloquialsense,asin“torevealasecretoralertsomeonetoacrime”?Eitherway,itdidn’tmakeanysensetome.ButIcontinuedtogoovereachline,wordbyword,untilmybrainbegantofeellikeAquafreshtoothpaste.
...
ThatFridayafterschool,thedayDaitoandShotoclearedtheFirstGate,Iwassittinginasecludedspotafewmilesfrommyschool,asteephillwithasolitarytreeatthetop.Ilikedtocomeheretoread,todomyhomework,ortosimplyenjoytheviewofthesurroundinggreenfields.Ididn’thaveaccesstothatkindofviewintherealworld.
AsIsatunderthetree,Isortedthroughthemillionsofmessagesstillcloggingmyinbox.I’dbeensiftingthroughthemallweek.I’dreceivednotesfrompeopleallovertheglobe.Lettersofcongratulation.Pleasforhelp.Deaththreats.Interviewrequests.Severallong,incoherentdiatribesfromgunterswhosequestfortheegghadclearlydriventheminsane.I’dalsoreceivedinvitationstojoinfourofthebiggestgunterclans:theOviraptors,ClanDestiny,theKeyMasters,andTeamBanzai.Itoldeachofthemthanks,butnothanks.
WhenIgottiredofreadingmy“fanmail,”Isortedoutallthemessagesthatweretaggedas“businessrelated”andbeganreadingthroughthose.
IdiscoveredthatI’dreceivedseveraloffersfrommoviestudiosandbookpublishers,allinterestedinbuyingtherightstomylifestory.Ideletedthemall,becauseI’ddecidednevertorevealmytrueidentitytotheworld.
Atleast,notuntilafterIfoundtheegg.
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I’dalsoreceivedseveralendorsement-dealoffersfromcompanieswhowanted
touseParzival’snameandfacetoselltheirservicesandproducts.
AnelectronicsretailerwasinterestedinusingmyavatartopromotetheirlineofOASISimmersionhardwaresotheycouldsell“Parzival-approved”
hapticrigs,gloves,andvisors.Ialsohadoffersfromapizza-deliverychain,ashoemanufacturer,andanonlinestorethatsoldcustomavatarskins.TherewasevenatoycompanythatwantedtomanufacturealineofParzivallunchboxesandactionfigures.ThesecompanieswereofferingtopaymeinOASIScredits,whichwouldbetransferreddirectlytomyavatar’saccount.
Icouldn’tbelievemyluck.
Irepliedtoeverysingleoneoftheendorsementinquires,sayingthatIwouldaccepttheiroffersunderthefollowingconditions:Iwouldn’thavetorevealmytrueidentity,andIwouldonlydobusinessthroughmyOASISavatar.
Istartedreceivingreplieswithinthehour,withcontractsattached.
Icouldn’taffordtohavealawyerlookthemover,buttheyallexpiredwithinayear’stime,soIjustwentaheadandsignedthemelectronicallyande-mailedthembackalongwithathree-dimensionalmodelofmyavatar,tobeusedforthecommercials.Ialsoreceivedrequestsforanaudioclipofmyavatar’svoice,soIsentthemasynthesizedclipofadeepbari-tonethatmademesoundlikeoneofthoseguyswhodidvoice-oversformovietrailers.
Oncetheyreceivedeverything,myavatar’snewsponsorsinformedmethatthey’dwiremyfirstroundofpaymentstomyOASISaccountwithinthenextforty-eighthours.TheamountofmoneyIwasgoingtoreceivewouldn’tbeenoughtomakemerich.Notbyalongshot.Buttoakidwho’dgrownupwithnothing,itseemedlikeafortune.
Ididsomequickcalculations.IfIlivedfrugally,Iwouldhaveenoughtomoveoutofthestacksandrentasmallefficiencyapartmentsomewhere.Forayear,atleast.Theverythoughtfilledmewithnervousexcitement.I’ddreamedofescapingthestacksforaslongasIcouldremember,andnowitappearedthatdreamwasabouttocometrue.
Withtheendorsementdealstakencareof,Icontinuedtosortthroughmye-mailmessages.WhenIsortedtheremainingmessagesbysender,IdiscoveredthatI’d
receivedoverfivethousande-mailsfromInnovativeOnlineIndustries.Actually,they’dsentmefivethousandcopiesoftheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd131
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samee-mail.They’dbeenresendingthesamemessageallweek,sincemynamefirstappearedontheScoreboard.Andtheywerestillresendingit,onceeveryminute.
TheSixersweremail-bombingme,tomakesuretheygotmyattention.
Thee-mailswereallmarkedMaximumPriority,withthesubjectlineurgentbusinessproposition—pleasereadimmediately!
ThesecondIopenedone,adeliveryconfirmationwassentbacktoIOI,lettingthemknowthatIwasfinallyreadingtheirmessage.Afterthat,theystoppedresendingit.
DearParzival,
First,allowmetocongratulateyouonyourrecentaccomplishments,whichweatInnovativeOnlineIndustriesholdinthehighestregard.
OnbehalfofIOI,Iwishtomakeyouahighlylucrativebusinessproposition,theexactdetailsofwhichwecandiscussinaprivatechatlinksession.Pleaseusetheattachedcontactcardtoreachmeatyourearliestconvenience,regardlessofthedayorhour.
Givenourreputationwithintheguntercommunity,Iwouldunderstandifyouwerehesitanttospeakwithme.However,pleasebeawarethatifyouchoosenottoacceptourproposal,weintendtoapproacheachofyourcompetitors.Attheveryleast,wehopeyou’lldousthehonorofbeingthefirsttohearourgenerousoffer.Whathaveyougottolose?
Thankyouforyourkindattention.Ilookforwardtospeakingwithyou.
Sincerely,
NolanSorrento
HeadofOperations
InnovativeOnlineIndustries
Despitethemessage’sreasonabletone,thethreatbehinditwascrystalclear.TheSixerswantedtorecruitme.OrtheywantedtopaymetotellthemhowtofindtheCopperKeyandcleartheFirstGate.AndifIrefused,theywouldgoafterArt3mis,thenAech,Daito,Shoto,andeveryothergunterwhomanagedtogettheirnameupontheScoreboard.Theseshamelesscorporatesleazebagswouldn’tstopuntiltheyfoundsomeonedumbenoughordesperateenoughgiveinandsellthemtheinformationtheyneeded.
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Myfirstimpulsewastodeleteeverysinglecopyofthee-mailandpretendI’dneverreceivedit,butIchangedmymind.IwantedtoknowexactlywhatIOIwasgoingtooffer.AndIcouldn’tpassupthechancetomeetNolanSorrento,theSixers’infamousleader.Therewasnodangermeetingwithhimviachatlink,aslongasIwascarefulaboutwhatIsaid.
IconsideredteleportingtoIncipiobeforemy“interview,”tobuyanewskinformyavatar.Maybeatailoredsuit.Somethingflashyandexpensive.
ButthenIthoughtbetterofit.Ihadnothingtoprovetothatcorporateasshat.Afterall,Iwasfamousnow.Iwouldrollintothemeetingwearingmydefaultskinandafuck-offattitude.Iwouldlistentotheiroffer,thentellthemtokissmysimulatedass.MaybeI’drecordthewholethingandpostitonYouTube.
IpreppedforthemeetingbypullingupasearchengineandlearningeverythingIcouldaboutNolanSorrento.HehadaPhDinComputerScience.Priorto
becomingheadofoperationsatIOI,he’dbeenahigh-profilegamedesigner,overseeingthecreationofseveralthird-partyRPGsthatraninsidetheOASIS.I’dplayedallofhisgames,andtheywereactuallyprettygood.He’dbeenadecentcoder,backbeforehesoldhissoul.
ItwasobviouswhyIOIhadhiredhimtoleadtheirlackeys.TheyfiguredagamedesignerwouldhavethebestchanceofsolvingHalliday’sgrandvideogamepuzzle.ButSorrentoandtheSixershadbeenatitforoverfiveyearsandstillhadnothingtoshowfortheirefforts.AndnowthatgunteravatarnameswereappearingontheScoreboardleftandright,theIOIbrasshadtobefreakingout.Sorrentowasprobablycatchingallkindsofheatfromhissuperiors.IwonderedifithadbeenSorrento’sideatotrytorecruitme,orifhe’dbeenorderedtodoit.
OnceI’ddonemyhomeworkonSorrento,IfeltlikeIwasreadytositdownwiththedevil.IpulledupthecontactcardattachedtoSorrento’se-mailandtappedthechatlinkinvitationiconatthebottom.
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AsIfinishedconnectingtothechatlinksession,myavatarmaterializedonagrandobservationdeckwithastunningviewofoveradozenOASISworldssuspendedinblackspacebeyondthecurvedwindow.Iappearedtobeonaspacestationoraverylargetransportship;Icouldn’ttellwhich.
Chatlinksessionsworkeddifferentlyfromchatrooms,andtheywerealotmoreexpensivetohost.Whenyouopenedachatlink,aninsubstantialcopyofyouravatarwasprojectedintoanotherOASISlocation.Youravatarwasn’tactuallythere,andsoitappearedtootheravatarsasaslightlytransparentapparition.Butyoucouldstillinteractwiththeenvironmentinalimitedway—walkingthroughdoors,sittinginchairs,andsoforth.
Chatlinkswereprimarilyusedforbusinesspurposes,whenacompanywantedtohostameetinginaspecificOASISlocationwithoutspendingthetimeand
moneytotransporteveryone’savatarstoit.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’deverusedone.
IturnedaroundandsawthatmyavatarwasstandinginfrontofalargeC-shapedreceptiondesk.TheIOIcorporatelogo—giant,overlappingchromeletterstwentyfeettall—floatedaboveit.AsIapproachedthedesk,animpossiblybeautifulblondereceptioniststoodtogreetme.“Mr.
Parzival,”shesaid,bowingslightly.“WelcometoInnovativeOnlineIndustries!Justamoment.Mr.Sorrentoisalreadyonhiswaytogreetyou.”
Iwasn’tsurehowthatcouldbe,sinceIhadn’twarnedthemIwascoming.WhileIwaited,Itriedtoactivatemyavatar’svidfeedrecorder,butClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd134
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IOIhaddisabledrecordinginthischatlinksession.Theyobviouslydidn’twantmetohavevideoevidenceofwhatwasabouttogodown.SomuchformyplantoposttheinterviewonYouTube.
Lessthanaminutelater,anotheravatarappeared,throughasetofautomaticdoorsontheoppositesideoftheobservationdeck.Heheadedrightforme,bootsclickingonthepolishedfloor.ItwasSorrento.Irecognizedhimbecausehewasn’tusingastandard-issueSixeravatar—oneoftheperksofhisposition.Hisavatar’sfacematchedthephotosofhimI’dseenonline.Blondhairandbrowneyes,ahawkishnose.HedidwearthestandardSixeruniform—anavybluebodysuitwithgoldepaulettesattheshouldersandasilverIOIlogoonhisrightbreast,withhisemployeenumberprintedbeneathit:655321.
“Atlast!”hesaidashewalkedup,grinninglikeajackal.“ThefamousParzivalhasgraceduswithhispresence!”Heextendedaglovedrighthand.“NolanSorrento,chiefofoperations.It’sanhonortomeetyou.”
“Yeah,”Isaid,doingmybesttosoundaloof.“Likewise,Iguess.”Evenasachatlinkprojection,myavatarcouldstillmimeshakinghisoutstretchedhand.
InsteadIjuststareddownatitasifhewereofferingmeadeadrat.
Hedroppeditafterafewseconds,buthissmiledidn’tfalter.Itbroadened.
“Pleasefollowme.”Heledmeacrossthedeckandbackthroughtheautomaticdoors,whichslidopentorevealalargelaunchingbay.ItcontainedasingleinterplanetaryshuttlecraftemblazonedwiththeIOIlogo.
Sorrentobegantoboardit,butIhaltedatthefootoftheramp.
“Whybotherbringingmehereviaachatlink?”Iasked,motioningtothebayaroundus.“Whynotjustgivemeyoursalespitchinachatroom?”
“Please,indulgeme,”hesaid.“Thischatlinkispartofoursalespitch.
Wewanttogiveyouthesameexperienceyou’dhaveifyoucametovisitourheadquartersinperson.”
Right,Ithought.IfIhadcomehereinperson,myavatarwouldbesurroundedbythousandsofSixersandI’dbeatyourmercy.
Ijoinedhiminsidetheshuttle.Therampretractedandwelaunchedoutofthebay.Throughtheship’swraparoundwindowsIsawthatwewereleavingoneoftheSixers’orbitalspacestations.LoomingdirectlyaheadofuswastheplanetIOI-1,amassivechromeglobe.ItremindedmeofthekillerfloatingspheresinthePhantasmfilms.GuntersreferredtoIOI-1as“theSixerhomeworld.”Thecompanyhadconstructeditshortlyafterthecontestbegan,toserveasIOI’sonlinebaseofoperations.
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Ourshuttle,whichseemedtobeflyingonautomaticpilot,quicklyreachedtheplanetandbegantoskimitsmirroredsurface.Istaredoutthewindowaswedidonecompleteorbit.AsfarasIknew,nogunterhadeverbeengiventhiskindof
tour.
Frompoletopole,IOI-1wascoveredwitharmories,bunkers,warehouses,andvehiclehangars.Ialsosawairfieldsdottingthesurface,whererowsofgleaminggunships,spacecraft,andmechanizedbattletanksstoodwaitingforaction.SorrentosaidnothingaswesurveyedtheSixerarmada.Hejustletmetakeitallin.
I’dseenscreenshotsofIOI-1’ssurfacebefore,butthey’dbeenlow-resandtakenfromhighorbit,justbeyondtheplanet’simpressivedefensegrid.ThelargerclanshadbeenopenlyplottingtonuketheSixerOperationsComplexforseveralyearsnow,butthey’dnevermanagedtogetpastthedefensegridorreachtheplanet’ssurface.
Aswecompletedourorbit,theIOIOperationsComplexswungintoviewaheadofus.Itconsistedofthreemirror-surfacedtowers—tworectangularskyscrapersoneithersideofacircularone.Seenfromabove,thesethreebuildingsformedtheIOIlogo.
TheshuttleslowedandhoveredabovetheO-shapedtower,thenspiraleddowntoasmalllandingpadontheroof.“Impressivedigs,wouldn’tyouagree?”Sorrentosaid,finallybreakinghissilenceaswetoucheddownandtheramplowered.
“Notbad.”Iwasproudofthecalminmyvoice.Intruth,IwasstillreelingfromeverythingI’djustseen.“ThisisanOASISreplicaoftherealIOItowerslocatedindowntownColumbus,right?”Isaid.
Sorrentonodded.“Yes,theColumbuscomplexisourcompanyheadquarters.Mostofmyteamworksinthiscentraltower.Ourcloseprox-imitytoGSSeliminatesanypossibilityofsystemlag.And,ofcourse,Columbusdoesn’tsufferfromtherollingpowerblackoutsthatplaguemostmajorU.S.cities.”
Hewasstatingtheobvious.GregariousSimulationSystemswaslocatedinColumbus,andsowastheirmainOASISservervault.Redundantmirrorserverswerelocatedallovertheworld,buttheywerealllinkedtothemainnodeinColumbus.Thiswaswhy,inthedecadessincethesimulation’slaunch,thecityhadbecomeakindofhigh-techMecca.ColumbuswaswhereanOASISusercouldgetthefastest,mostreliableconnectiontothesimulation.Mostguntersdreamedofmovingtheresomeday,meincluded.
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IfollowedSorrentoofftheshuttleandintoanelevatoradjacenttothelandingpad.“You’vebecomequitethecelebritythesepastfewdays,”hesaidaswebegantodescend.“Itmustbeveryexcitingforyou.Probablyalittlescary,too,huh?Knowingyounowpossessinformationthatmillionsofpeoplewouldbewillingtokillfor?”
I’dbeenwaitingforhimtosaysomethinglikethis,soIhadareplyprepared.“Doyoumindskippingthescaretacticsandtheheadgames?Justtellmethedetailsofyouroffer.Ihaveothermatterstoattendto.”
HegrinnedatmelikeIwasaprecociouschild.“Yes,I’msureyoudo,”
hesaid.“Butpleasedon’tjumptoanyconclusionsaboutouroffer.Ithinkyou’llbequitesurprised.”Then,withasuddentouchofsteelinhistone,headded,“Infact,I’mcertainofit.”
DoingmybesttohidetheintimidationIfelt,Irolledmyeyesandsaid,
“Whatever,man.”
Atonesoundedaswereachedthe106thfloor,andtheelevatordoorsswishedopen.IfollowedSorrentopastanotherreceptionistanddownalong,brightlylitcorridor.Thedecorwassomethingoutofautopiansci-fiflick.High-techandimmaculate.WepassedseveralotherSixeravatarsaswewalked,andthemomenttheysawSorrento,theyeachsnappedtorigidattentionandsalutedhim,asifheweresomehigh-rankinggeneral.
Sorrentodidn’treturnthesesalutesoracknowledgehisunderlingsinanyway.
Eventually,heledmeintoahugeopenroomthatappearedtooccupymostofthe106thfloor.Itcontainedavastseaofhigh-walledcubicles,eachcontainingasinglepersonstrappedintoahigh-endimmersionrig.
“WelcometoIOI’sOologyDivision,”Sorrentosaidwithobviouspride.
“So,thisisSux0rzCentral,eh?”Isaid,glancingaround.
“There’snoneedtoberude,”Sorrentosaid.“Thiscouldbeyourteam.”
“WouldIgetmyveryowncubicle?”
“No.You’dhaveyourownoffice,withaveryniceview.”Hegrinned.
“Notthatyou’dspendmuchtimelookingatit.”
ImotionedtooneofthenewHabashawimmersionrigs.“Nicegear,”Isaid.Itreallywas,too.State-of-the-art.
“Yes,itisnice,isn’tit?”hesaid.“Ourimmersionrigsareheavilymodified,andthey’reallnetworkedtogether.Oursystemsallowmultipleoperatorstocontrolanyoneofouroologist’savatars.Sodependingontheobstaclesanavatarencountersduringtheirquest,controlcanbeinstantlyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd137
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transferredtotheteammemberwiththeskillsbestsuitedtodealwiththesituation.”
“Yeah,butthat’scheating,”Isaid.
“Oh,comeonnow,”hesaid,rollinghiseyes.“There’snosuchthing.
Halliday’scontestdoesn’thaveanyrules.That’soneofthemanycolossalmistakestheoldfoolmade.”BeforeIcouldreply,Sorrentostartedwalkingagain,leadingmeonthroughthemazeofcubicles.“Allofouroologistsarevoice-linkedtoasupportteam,”hecontinued.“ComposedofHallidayscholars,videogameexperts,pop-culturehistorians,andcryptologists.Theyallworktogethertohelpeachofouravatarsovercomeanychallengeandsolveevery
puzzletheyencounter.”Heturnedandgrinnedatme.“Asyoucansee,we’vecoveredallthebases,Parzival.That’swhywe’regoingtowin.”
“Yeah,”Isaid.“Youguyshavebeendoingabang-upjobsofar.Bravo.
Now,whyisitthatwe’retalkingagain?Oh,right.YouguyshavenocluewheretheCopperKeyis,andyouneedmyhelptofindit.”
Sorrentonarrowedhiseyes;thenhebegantolaugh.“Ilikeyou,kid,”
hesaid,grinningatme.“You’rebright.Andyou’vegotcojones.TwoqualitiesIgreatlyadmire.”
Wecontinuedwalking.Afewminuteslater,wearrivedinSorrento’senormousoffice.Itswindowsaffordedastunningviewofthesurrounding“city.”Theskywasfilledwithaircarsandspacecraft,andtheplanet’ssimulatedsunwasjustbeginningtoset.Sorrentosatdownbehindhisdeskandofferedmethechairdirectlyacrossfromhim.
Herewego,IthoughtasIsatdown.Playitcool,Wade.
“SoI’lljustcuttothechase,”hesaid.“IOIwantstorecruityou.Asaconsultant,toassistwithoursearchforHalliday’sEasteregg.You’llhaveallofourcompany’svastresourcesatyourdisposal.Money,weapons,magicitems,ships,artifacts.Younameit.”
“Whatwouldmytitlebe?”
“Chiefoologist,”hereplied.“You’dbeinchargeoftheentiredivision,second-in-commandonlytome.I’mtalkingaboutfivethousandhighlytrainedcombat-readyavatars,alltakingordersdirectlyfromyou.”
“Soundsprettysweet,”Isaid,tryinghardtosoundnonchalant.
“Ofcourseitdoes.Butthere’smore.Inexchangeforyourservices,we’rewillingtopayyoutwomilliondollarsayear,withaone-million-dollarsigningbonusupfront.Andifandwhenyouhelpusfindtheegg,you’llgetatwenty-five-million-dollarbonus.”
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Ipretendedtoaddallofthosenumbersuponmyfingers.“Wow,”Isaid,tryingtosoundimpressed.“CanIworkfromhome,too?”
Sorrentocouldn’tseemtotellwhetherornotIwasjoking.“No,”hesaid.“I’mafraidnot.You’dhavetorelocateheretoColumbus.Butwe’llprovideyouwithexcellentlivingquartershereonthepremises.Andaprivateoffice,ofcourse.Yourownstate-of-the-artimmersionrig—”
“Holdon,”Isaid,holdingupahand.“YoumeanI’dhavetoliveintheIOIskyscraper?Withyou?AndalloftheotherSux—oologists?”
Henodded.“Justuntilyouhelpusfindtheegg.”
Iresistedtheurgetogag.“Whataboutbenefits?WouldIgethealthcare?Dental?Vision?Keystotheexecutivewashroom?Shitlikethat?”
“Ofcourse.”Hewasstartingtosoundimpatient.“So?Whatdoyousay?”
“CanIthinkaboutitforafewdays?”
“Afraidnot,”hesaid.“Thiscouldallbeoverinafewdays.Weneedyouranswernow.”
Ileanedbackandstaredattheceiling,pretendingtoconsidertheoffer.
Sorrentowaited,watchingmeintently.Iwasabouttogivehimmypreparedanswerwhenheraisedahand.
“Justlistentomeamomentbeforeyouanswer,”Sorrentosaid.“IknowmostguntersclingtotheabsurdnotionthatIOIisevil.AndthattheSixersareruthlesscorporatedroneswithnohonorandnorespectforthe
‘truespirit’ofthecontest.Thatwe’reallsellouts.Right?”
Inodded,barelyresistingtheurgetosay“That’sputtingitmildly.”
“Well,that’sridiculous,”hesaid,flashinganavunculargrinthatIsuspectedwasgeneratedbywhateverdiplomacysoftwarehewasrunning.
“TheSixersarereallynodifferentthanaGunterclan,albeitawell-fundedone.Weshareallthesameobsessionsasgunters.Andwehavethesamegoal.”
Whatgoalisthat?Iwantedtoshout.ToruintheOASISforever?Topervertanddefiletheonlythingthathasevermadeourlivesbearable?
Sorrentoseemedtotakemysilenceasacuethatheshouldcontinue.
“Youknow,contrarytopopularbelief,theOASISreallywon’tchangethatdrasticallywhenIOItakescontrolofit.Sure,we’llhavetostartchargingeveryoneamonthlyuserfee.Andincreasethesim’sadvertisingrevenue.
Butwealsoplantomakealotofimprovements.Avatarcontentfilters.
Stricterconstructionguidelines.We’regoingtomaketheOASISabetterplace.”
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wherethefewpeoplewhocanstillaffordthepriceofadmissionnolongerhaveanounceoffreedom.
I’dheardasmuchofthisjerk’ssalespitchasIcouldstand.
“OK,”Isaid.“Countmein.Signmeup.Whateveryouguyscallit.I’min.”
Sorrentolookedsurprised.Thisclearlywasn’ttheanswerhe’dbeenexpecting.HesmiledwideandwasabouttooffermehishandagainwhenIcuthimoff.
“ButIhavethreeminorconditions,”Isaid.“First,Iwantafifty-million-dollarbonuswhenIfindtheeggforyouguys.Nottwenty-five.Isthatdoable?”
Hedidn’tevenhesitate.“Done.Whatareyourotherconditions?”
“Idon’twanttobesecond-in-command,”Isaid.“Iwantyourjob,Sorrento.Iwanttobeinchargeofthewholeshebang.Chiefofoperations.ElNumeroUno.Oh,andIwanteveryonetohavetocallmeElNumeroUno,too.Isthatpossible?”
Mymouthseemedtobeoperatingindependentofmybrain.Icouldn’thelpmyself.
Sorrento’ssmilehadvanished.“Whatelse?”
“Idon’twanttoworkwithyou.”Ileveledafingerathim.“Yougivemethecreeps.Butifyoursuperiorsarewillingtofireyourassandgivemeyourposition,I’min.It’sadonedeal.”
Silence.Sorrento’sfacewasastoicmask.Heprobablyhadcertainemotions,likeangerandrage,filteredoutonhisfacial-recognitionsoftware.
“Couldyoucheckwithyourbossesandletmeknowifthey’llagreetothat?”Iasked.“Oraretheymonitoringusrightnow?I’mbettingtheyare.”Iwavedtotheinvisiblecameras.“Hi,guys!Whatdoyousay?”
Therewasalongsilence,duringwhichSorrentosimplyglaredatme.
“Ofcoursethey’remonitoringus,”hesaidfinally.“Andthey’vejustinformedmethatthey’rewillingtoagreetoeachofyourdemands.”Hedidn’tsoundallthatupset.
“Really?”Isaid.“Great!WhencanIstart?Andmoreimportantly,whencanyouleave?”
“Immediately,”hesaid.“Thecompanywillprepareyourcontractandsendittoyourlawyerforapproval.Thenwe—theywillflyyouheretoColumbustosignthepaperworkandclosethedeal.”Hestood.“Thatshouldconclude—”
“Actually—”Iheldupahand,cuttinghimoffagain.“I’vespentthelastClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd140
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fewsecondsthinkingthisoverabitmore,andI’mgonnahavetopassonyouroffer.IthinkI’dratherfindtheeggonmyown,thanks.”Istoodup.
“YouandtheotherSux0rzcanallgofuckaduck.”
Sorrentobegantolaugh.Along,heartylaughthatIfoundmorethanalittledisturbing.“Oh,you’regood!Thatwassogood!Youreallyhadusgoingthere,kid!”Whenhislaughtertaperedoff,hesaid,“That’stheanswerIwasexpecting.Sonow,letmegiveyouoursecondproposal.”
“There’smore?”Isatbackdownandputmyfeetuponhisdesk.“OK.
Shoot.”
“We’llwirefivemilliondollarsdirectlytoyourOASISaccount,rightnow,inexchangeforawalkthroughuptotheFirstGate.That’sit.Allyouhavetodoisgiveusdetailedstep-by-stepinstructionsonhowtodowhatyou’vealreadydone.We’lltakeitfromthere.You’llbefreetocontinuesearchingfortheeggonyourown.Andourtransactionwillremainacompletesecret.Nooneeverneedknowofit.”
Iadmit,Iactuallyconsidereditforasecond.Fivemilliondollarswouldsetmeupforlife.AndevenifIhelpedtheSixerscleartheFirstGate,therewasnoguaranteethey’dbeabletocleartheothertwo.Istillwasn’tevensureifIwouldbeabletodothat.
“Trustme,son,”Sorrentosaid.“Youshouldtakethisoffer.Whileyoucan.”
Hispaternaltoneirkedmetonoend,andthathelpedtosteelmyre-solve.Icouldn’tsellouttotheSixers.IfIdid,andtheydidsomehowmanagetowinthecontest,I’dbetheoneresponsible.TherewasnowayI’dbeabletolivewiththat.IjusthopedthatAech,Art3mis,andanyothergunterstheyapproachedfeltthesameway.
“I’llpass,”Isaid.Islidmyfeetoffhisdeskandstood.“Thanksforyourtime.”
Sorrentolookedatmesadly,thenmotionedformetositbackdown.
“Actually,we’renotquitedonehere.Wehaveonefinalproposalforyou,Parzival.AndIsavedthebestforlast.”
“Can’tyoutakeahint?Youcan’tbuyme.Sopissoff.Adios.Good.Bye.”
“Sitdown,Wade.”
Ifroze.Hadhejustusedmyrealname?
“That’sright,”Sorrentobarked.“Weknowwhoyouare.WadeOwenWatts.BornAugusttwelfth,2024.Bothparentsdeceased.Andwealsoknowwhereyouare.Youresidewithyouraunt,inatrailerparklocatedatClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd141
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700PortlandAvenueinOklahomaCity.Unit56-K,tobeexact.Accordingtooursurveillanceteam,youwerelastseenenteringyouraunt’strailerthreedaysagoandyouhaven’tleftsince.Whichmeansyou’restillthererightnow.”
Avidfeedwindowopeneddirectlybehindhim,displayingalivevideoimageofthestackswhereIlived.Itwasanaerialview,maybebeingshotfromaplaneorasatellite.Fromthisangle,theycouldonlymonitorthetrailer’stwomainexits.Sotheyhadn’tseenmeleavethroughthelaundryroomwindoweachmorning,orreturnthroughiteachnight.Theydidn’tknowIwasactuallyinmyhideoutrightnow.
“Thereyouare,”Sorrentosaid.Hispleasant,condescendingtonehadreturned.“Youshouldreallygetoutmore,Wade.It’snothealthytospendallofyourtimeindoors.”Theimagemagnifiedafewtimes,zoominginonmyaunt’strailer.Thenitswitchedovertothermal-imagingmode,andIcouldseetheglowingoutlinesofoveradozenpeople,childrenandadults,sittinginside.Nearlyallofthemweremotionless—probablyloggedintotheOASIS.
Iwastoostunnedtospeak.Howhadtheyfoundme?ItwassupposedtobeimpossibleforanyonetoobtainyourOASISaccountinformation.
Andmyaddresswasn’teveninmyOASISaccount.Youdidn’thavetoprovideitwhenyoucreatedyouravatar.Justyournameandretinalpattern.
SohowhadtheyfoundoutwhereIlived?
Somehowtheymusthavegottenaccesstomyschoolrecords.
“Yourfirstinstinctrightnowmightbetologoutandmakearunforit,”Sorrentosaid.“Iurgeyounottomakethatmistake.Yourtraileriscurrentlywiredwithalargequantityofhighexplosives.”Hepulledsomethingthatlookedlikearemotecontroloutofhispocketandhelditup.
“Andmyfingerisonthedetonator.Ifyoulogoutofthischatlinksession,youwilldiewithinafewseconds.DoyouunderstandwhatI’msayingtoyou,Mr.Watts?”
Inoddedslowly,tryingdesperatelytogetagriponthesituation.
Hewasbluffing.Hehadtobebluffing.Andevenifhewasn’t,hedidn’tknowthatIwasactuallyhalfamileaway,inmyhideout.Sorrentoassumedthatoneoftheglowingthermaloutlinesonthedisplaywasme.
Ifabombreallydidgooffinmyaunt’strailer,I’dbesafedownhere,underallthesejunkcars.Wouldn’tI?Besides,theywouldneverkillallthosepeoplejusttogettome.
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“How—?”ThatwasallIcouldgetout.
“Howdidwefindoutwhoyouare?Andwhereyoulive?”Hegrinned.
“Easy.Youscrewedup,kid.WhenyouenrolledintheOASISpublicschoolsystem,yougavethemyournameandaddress.Sotheycouldmailyouyourreportcards,Isuppose.”
Hewasright.Myavatar’sname,myrealname,andmyhomeaddresswereallstoredinmyprivatestudentfile,whichonlytheprincipalcouldaccess.Itwasastupidmistake,butI’denrolledtheyearbeforethecontestevenbegan.BeforeIbecameagunter.BeforeIlearnedtoconcealmyreal-worldidentity.
“HowdidyoufindoutIattendschoolonline?”Iasked.Ialreadyknewtheanswer,butIneededtostallfortime.
“There’sbeenarumorcirculatingontheguntermessageboardsthepastfewdaysthatyouandyourpalAechbothgotoschoolonLudus.
Whenweheardthat,wedecidedtocontactafewOPSadministratorsandofferthemabribe.Doyouknowhowlittleaschooladministratormakesayear,Wade?It’sscandalous.OneofyourprincipalswaskindenoughtosearchthestudentdatabasefortheavatarnameParzival,andguesswhat?”
Anotherwindowappearedbesidethelivevideofeedofthestacks.Itdisplayedmyentirestudentprofile.Myfullname,avatarname,studentalias(Wade3),dateofbirth,SocialSecuritynumber,andhomeaddress.
Myschooltranscripts.Itwasallthere,alongwithanoldyearbookphoto,takenoverfiveyearsago—rightbeforeI’dtransferredtoschoolintheOASIS.
“WehaveyourfriendAech’sschoolrecordstoo.Buthewassmartenoughtogiveafakenameandaddresswhenheenrolled.Sofindinghimwilltakeabitlonger.”
Hepausedtoletmereply,butIremainedsilent.Mypulsewasracing,andIhadtokeepremindingmyselftobreathe.
“So,thatbringsmetoourfinalproposal.”Sorrentorubbedhishandstogetherexcitedly,likeakidabouttoopenapresent.“TellushowtoreachtheFirstGate.Rightnow.Orwewillkillyou.Rightnow.”
“You’rebluffing,”Iheardmyselfsay.ButIdidn’tthinkhewas.Notatall.
“No,Wade.I’mnot.Thinkaboutit.Witheverythingelsethat’sgoingonintheworld,doyouthinkanyonewillcareaboutanexplosioninsomeghetto-trashratwarreninOklahomaCity?They’llassumeitwasClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd143
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adrug-labaccident.Ormaybeadomesticterroristcelltryingtobuildahomemadebomb.Eitherway,itwilljustmeanthereareafewhundredlesshumancockroachesouttherecollectingfoodvouchersandusinguppreciousoxygen.Noonewillcare.Andtheauthoritieswon’tevenblink.”
Hewasright,andIknewit.ItriedtostallforafewsecondssoIcouldfigureoutwhattodo.“You’dkillme?”Isaid.“Towinavideogamecontest?”
“Don’tpretendtobenaïve,Wade,”Sorrentosaid.“Therearebillionsofdollarsatstakehere,alongwithcontrolofoneoftheworld’smostprof-itablecorporations,andoftheOASISitself.Thisismuchmorethanavideogamecontest.Italwayshasbeen.”Heleanedforward.“Butyoucanstillcomeoutawinnerhere,kid.Ifyouhelpus,we’llstillgiveyouthefivemillion.Youcanretireatageeighteenandspendtherestofyourdayslivinglikeroyalty.Oryoucandieinthenextfewseconds.It’syourcall.Butaskyourselfthisquestion—ifyourmotherwerestillalive,whatwouldshewantyoutodo?”
ThatlastquestionwouldreallyhavepissedmeoffifIhadn’tbeensoscared.“What’stostopyoufromkillingmeafterIgiveyouwhatyouwant?”Iasked.
“Regardlessofwhatyoumaythink,wedon’twanttohavetokillanyoneunlessit’sabsolutelynecessary.Besides,therearetwomoregates,right?”Heshrugged.“Wemightneedyourhelptofigurethoseouttoo.
Personally,Idoubtit.Butmysuperiorsfeeldifferently.Regardless,youdon’treallyhaveachoiceatthispoint,doyou?”Heloweredhisvoice,asifhewereabouttoshareasecret.“Sohere’swhat’sgoingtohappennext.
You’regoingtogivemestep-by-stepinstructionsonhowtoobtaintheCopper
KeyandcleartheFirstGate.Andyou’regoingtostayloggedintothischatlinksessionwhileweverifyeverythingyoutellus.LogoutbeforeIsayit’sOK,andyourwholeworldgoesboom.Understand?Nowstarttalking.”
Iconsideredgivingthemwhattheywanted.Ireallydid.ButIthoughtitthrough,andIcouldn’tcomeupwithasinglegoodreasonwhytheywouldletmelive,evenifIhelpedthemcleartheFirstGate.Theonlymovethatmadesensewastokillmeandtakemeoutoftherunning.Theysureashellweren’tgoingtogivemefivemilliondollars,orleavemealivetotellthemediahowIOIhadblackmailedme.Especiallyiftherereallywasaremote-controlledbombplantedinmytrailertoserveasevidence.
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No.ThewayIsawit,therewerereallyonlytwopossibilities:Eithertheywerebluffingortheyweregoingtokillme,whetherIhelpedthemornot.
Imademydecisionandsummonedmycourage.
“Sorrento,”Isaid,tryingtohidethefearinmyvoice,“Iwantyouandyourbossestoknowsomething.You’renevergoingtofindHalliday’segg.
Youknowwhy?Becausehewassmarterthanallofyouputtogether.Itdoesn’tmatterhowmuchmoneyyouhaveorwhoyoutrytoblackmail.
You’regoingtolose.”
ItappedmyLog-outicon,andmyavatarbegantodematerializeinfrontofhim.Hedidn’tseemsurprised.Hejustlookedatmesadlyandshookhishead.“Stupidmove,kid,”hesaid,justbeforemyvisorwentblack.
Isatthereinthedarknessofmyhideout,wincingandwaitingforthedetonation.Butafullminutepassedandnothinghappened.
Islidmyvisorupandpulledoffmygloveswithshakinghands.Asmyeyesbegantoadjusttothedarkness,Iletoutatentativesighofrelief.Ithadbeenabluffafterall.Sorrentohadbeenplayinganelaboratemindgamewithme.Aneffectiveonetoo.
AsIwasgulpingdownabottleofwater,IrealizedthatIshouldlogbackinandwarnAechandArt3mis.TheSixerswouldgoafterthemnext.
IwaspullingmyglovesbackonwhenIheardtheexplosion.
IfelttheshockwaveasplitsecondafterIheardthedetonationandinstinctivelydroppedtothefloorofmyhideoutwithmyarmswrappedovermyhead.Inthedistance,Icouldhearthesoundofrendingmetalasseveraltrailerstacksbegantocollapse,rippingfreeoftheirscaffoldingandcrashingagainstoneanotherlikemassivedominoes.Thesehorrificsoundscontinuedforwhatseemedlikeaverylongtime.Thenitwassilentagain.
Ieventuallyovercamemyparalysisandopenedthereardoorofthevan.Inanightmare-likedaze,Imademywaytotheoutskirtsofthejunkpile,andfromthere,Icouldseeagiantpillarofsmokeandflamesrisingfromtheoppositeendofthestacks.
Ifollowedthestreamofpeoplealreadyrunninginthatdirection,alongthenorthernperimeterofthestacks.Thestackcontainingmyaunt’strailerhadcollapsedintoafiery,smokingruin,alongwithallofthestacksadjacenttoit.Therewasnothingtherenowbutamassivepileoftwisted,flamingmetal.
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Ikeptmydistance,butalargecrowdofpeoplehadalreadygatheredupaheadofme,standingasclosetotheblazeastheydared.Noonebotheredtryingtoenterthewreckagetolookforsurvivors.Itwasobviousthereweren’tgoingtobeany.
Anancientpropanetankattachedtooneofthecrushedtrailersdetonatedina
smallexplosion,causingthecrowdtoscatteranddiveforcover.
Severalmoretanksdetonatedinrapidsuccession.Afterthat,theonlookersmovedmuchfartherbackandkepttheirdistance.
Theresidentswholivedinthenearbystacksknewthatifthefirespread,theywereinbigtrouble.Soalotofpeoplewerealreadyscramblingtofighttheblaze,usinggardenhoses,buckets,emptyBigGulpcups,andwhateverelsetheycouldfind.Beforelong,theflameswerecontainedandthefirebegantodieout.
AsIwatchedinsilence,Icouldalreadyhearthepeoplearoundmemurmuring,sayingthatitwasprobablyanothermeth-labaccident,orthatsomeidiotmusthavebeentryingtobuildahomemadebomb.JustasSorrentohadpredicted.
Thatthoughtsnappedmeoutofmydaze.WhatwasIthinking?TheSixershadjusttriedtokillme.Theyprobablystillhadagentslurkinghereinthestacks,checkingtomakesureIwasdead.AndlikeatotalidiotIwasstandingrightoutintheopen.
Ifadedawayfromthecrowdandhurriedbacktomyhideout,beingcarefulnotrun,constantlyglancingovermyshouldertomakesureIwasn’tbeingfollowed.OnceIwasbackinsidethevan,Islammedandlockedthedoor,thencurledintoaquiveringballinthecorner.Istayedlikethatforalongtime.
Eventually,theshockbegantowearoff,andtherealityofwhathadjusthappenedstartedtosinkin.MyauntAliceandherboyfriendRickweredead,alongwitheveryonewhohadlivedinourtrailer,andinthetrailersbelowandaroundit.IncludingsweetoldMrs.Gilmore.AndifIhadbeenathome,Iwouldbedeadnowtoo.
Iwasjackeduponadrenaline,unsureofwhattodonext,overcomebyaparalyzingmixtureoffearandrage.IthoughtaboutloggingintotheOASIStocallthepolice,butthenconsideredhowtheywouldreactwhenItoldthemmystory.They’dthinkIwasaravingnutjob.AndifIcalledthemedia,they’dreactthesameway.Therewasnowayanyonewouldbelievemystory.NotunlessIrevealedthatIwasParzival,andmaybenotevenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd146
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then.Ididn’thaveashredofproofagainstSorrentoandtheSixers.Alltracesofthebombthey’dplantedwereprobablymeltingintoslagrightnow.
RevealingmyidentitytotheworldsothatIcouldaccuseoneoftheworld’smostpowerfulcorporationsofblackmailandmurderdidn’tseemlikethesmartestmove.Noonewouldbelieveme.Icouldbarelybelieveitmyself.IOIhadactuallytriedtokillme.Topreventmefromwinningavideogamecontest.Itwasinsane.
Iseemedtobesafeinmyhideoutforthemoment,butIknewIcouldn’tstayinthestacksmuchlonger.WhentheSixersfoundoutIwasstillalive,theywouldcomebackherelookingforme.IneededtogetthehelloutofDodge.ButIcouldn’tdothatuntilIhadsomemoney,andmyfirstendorsementcheckswouldn’tbedepositedforanotherdayortwo.Iwouldjusthavetolielowuntilthen.Butrightnow,IneededtotalktoAech,towarnhimthathewasnextontheSixers’hitlist.
Iwasalsodesperatetoseeafriendlyface.
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IgrabbedmyOASISconsoleandpowerediton,thenpulledonmyvisorandgloves.AsIloggedin,myavatarreappearedonLudus,onthehilltopwhereI’dbeensittingpriortomychat-roomsessionwithSorrento.Themomentmyaudiokickedin,Iheardtheearsplittingroarofenginescomingfromsomewheredirectlyoverheard.Isteppedoutfromunderthetreeandlookedup.IsawasquadronofSixergunshipsflyinginformation,zoomingsouthatlowaltitude,theirsensorsscanningthesurfaceastheywent.
Iwasabouttoduckbackunderthetree,outofsight,whenIrememberedthatall
ofLuduswasano-PvPzone.TheSixerscouldn’tharmmehere.Evenso,mynerveswerestillonedge.IcontinuedtoscantheskyandquicklyspottedtwomoreSixergunshipsquadronsoffneartheeasternhorizon.Amomentlater,severalmoresquadronsdroppedinfromorbittothenorthandwest.Itlookedlikeanalieninvasion.
Aniconflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatIhadanewtextmessagefromAech:Wherethehellareyou?CallmeASAFP!
Itappedhisnameonmycontactlist,andheansweredonthefirstring.
Hisavatar’sfaceappearedinmyvidfeedwindow.Hewaswearingagrimexpression.
“Didyouhearthenews?”heasked.
“Whatnews?”
“TheSixersareonLudus.Thousandsofthem.Morearrivingeveryminute.They’researchingtheplanet,lookingforthetomb.”
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“Yeah.I’monLudusrightnow.Sixergunshipseverywhere.“
Aechscowled.“WhenIfindI-r0k,I’mgoingtokillhim.Slowly.Then,whenhecreatesanewavatar,I’mgoingtohunthimdownandkillhimagain.Ifthatmoronhadkepthismouthshut,theSixersneverwouldhavethoughttolookhere.”
“Yeah.Hisforumpostswerewhattippedthemoff.Sorrentosaidsohimself.”
“Sorrento?AsinNolanSorrento?”
Itoldhimeverythingthathadhappenedinthepastfewhours.
“Theyblewupyourhouse?”
“Actually,itwasatrailer,”Isaid.“Inatrailerpark.Theykilledalotofpeoplehere,Aech.It’sprobablyalreadyonthenewsfeeds.”Itookadeepbreath.“I’mfreakingout.I’mscared.”
“Idon’tblameyou,”hesaid.“ThankGodyouweren’thomewhenithappened....”
Inodded.“Ialmostneverloginfromhome.Luckily,theSixersdidn’tknowthat.”
“Whataboutyourfamily?”
“Itwasmyaunt’splace.She’sdead,Ithink.We...weweren’tveryclose.”Thiswasahugeunderstatement,ofcourse.MyauntAlicehadnevershownmemuchkindness,butshestillhadn’tdeservedtodie.ButmostofthewrenchingguiltInowfelthadtodowithMrs.Gilmore,andtheknowledgethatmyactionshadgottenherkilled.ShewasoneofthesweetestpeopleI’deverknown.
IrealizedthatIwassobbing.ImutedmyaudiosoAechwouldn’thear,thentookseveraldeepbreathsuntilIgotmyselfundercontrolagain.
“Ican’tbelievethis!”Aechgrowled.“Thoseevilpricks.They’regonnapay,Z.Countonit.Wewillmakethempayforthis.”
Icouldn’tseehow,butIdidn’targue.Iknewhewasjusttryingtomakemefeelbetter.
“Whereareyourightnow?”Aechasked.“Doyouneedhelp?Like,aplacetostayorsomething?Icanwireyousomemoneyifyouneedit.”
“No,I’mOK,”Isaid.“Butthanks,man.Ireallyappreciatetheoffer.”
“Denada,amigo.”
“Listen,didtheSixerssendyouthesamee-mailtheysentme?”
“Yeah.Thousandsofthem.ButIdecideditwasbesttoignorethem.”
Ifrowned.“IwishI’dbeensmartenoughtodothat.”
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“Dude,youhadnowayofknowingtheyweregonnatryandkillyou!
Besides,theyalreadyhadyourhomeaddress.Ifyou’dignoredtheire-mails,theyprobablywouldhavesetoffthatbombanyway.”
“Listen,Aech...Sorrentosaidthatyourschoolrecordscontainedafakehomeaddress,andthattheydon’tknowwheretofindyou.Buthemighthavebeenlying.Youshouldleavehome.Gosomewheresafe.Assoonaspossible.”
“Don’tworryaboutme,Z.Istaymobile.Thosebastardswillneverfindme.”
“Ifyousayso,”Ireplied,wonderingwhatexactlyhemeant.“ButIneedtowarnArt3mis,too.AndDaitoandShoto,ifIcanreachthem.TheSixersareprobablydoingeverythingtheycantolearntheiridentitiestoo.”
“Thatgivesmeanidea,”hesaid.“WeshouldinviteallthreeofthemtomeetusintheBasementlatertonight.Sayaroundmidnight?Aprivatechat-roomsession.Justthefiveofus.”
MymoodbrightenedattheprospectofseeingArt3misagain.“Doyouthinkthey’llallagreetocome?”
“Yeah,ifweletthemknowtheirlivesdependonit.”Hesmirked.“Andwe’regoingtohavetheworld’stopfivegunterstogetherinonechatroom.
Who’sgonnasitthatout?”
...
IsentArt3misashortmessage,askinghertomeetusinAech’sprivatechatroomatmidnight.Sherepliedjustafewminuteslater,promisingtobethere.
Aechtoldmehe’dmanagedtoreachDaitoandShoto,andtheyhadbothalsoagreedtoattend.Themeetingwasset.
Ididn’tfeellikebeingalone,soIloggedintotheBasementaboutanhourearly.Aechwasalreadythere,surfingthenewsfeedsontheancientRCAtelevision.Withoutsayingaword,hegotupandgavemeahug.
EventhoughIcouldn’tactuallyfeelit,Ifounditsurprisinglycomforting.
Thenwebothsatdownandwatchedthenewscoveragetogetherwhilewewaitedfortheotherstoarrive.
EverychannelwasairingOASISfootageshowingthehordesofSixerspacecraftandtroopsthatwerecurrentlyarrivingonLudus.Itwaseasyforeveryonetoguesswhytheywerethere,andsonoweverygunterinthesimulationwasalsoheadedforLudus.Transportterminalsallovertheplanetwerejammedwithincomingavatars.
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“Somuchforkeepingthetomb’slocationasecret,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.
“Itwasboundtoleakouteventually,”Aechsaid,shuttingofftheTV.“Ijustdidn’tthinkitwouldhappenthisfast.”
WebothheardanentrancealertchimeasArt3mismaterializedatthetopofthestaircase.Shewaswearingthesameoutfitshe’dhadonthenightwemet.Shewavedtomeasshedescendedthesteps.Iwavedback,thenmadeintroductions.
“Aech,meetArt3mis.Art3mis,thisismybestfriend,Aech.”
“Pleasuretomeetyou,”Art3missaid,extendingherrighthand.
Aechshookit.“Likewise.”HeflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Thanksforcoming.”
“Areyoukidding?HowcouldImissit?TheveryfirstmeetingoftheHighFive.”
“TheHighFive?”Isaid.
“Yeah,”Aechsaid.“That’swhatthey’recallingusonallofthemessageboardsnow.Weholdthetopfivehigh-scoreslotsontheScoreboard.Sowe’retheHighFive.”
“Right,”Isaid.“Atleastforthetimebeing.”
Art3misgrinnedatthat,thenturnedandbegantowanderaroundtheBasement,admiringthe’80sdecor.“Aech,thisis,byfar,thecoolestchatroomI’veeverseen.”
“Thankyou.”Hebowedhishead.“Kindofyoutosay.”
Shestoppedtobrowsethroughtheshelfofrole-playinggamesupplements.“You’vere-createdMorrow’sbasementperfectly.Everylastdetail.
Iwanttolivehere.”
“You’vegotapermanentspotontheguestlist.Loginandhangoutanytime.”
“Really?”shesaid,clearlydelighted.“Thankyou!Iwill.You’retheman,Aech.”
“Yes,”hesaid,smiling.“It’strue.Iam.”
Theyreallyseemedtobehittingitoff,anditwasmakingmecrazyjealous.Ididn’twantArt3mistolikeAech,orviceversa.Iwantedheralltomyself.
DaitoandShotologgedinamomentlater,appearingsimultaneouslyatthetopofthebasementstaircase.Daitowasthetallerofthetwo,andappearedtobeinhislateteens.ShotowasafootshorterandlookedmuchClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd151
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younger.Maybeaboutthirteen.BothavatarslookedJapanese,andtheyboreastrikingresemblancetooneanother,likesnapshotsofthesameyoungmantakenfiveyearsapart.Theyworematchingsuitsoftraditionalsamuraiarmor,andeachhadbothashortwakizashiandalongerkatanastrappedtohisbelt.
“Greetings,”thetallersamuraisaid.“IamDaito.Andthisismylittlebrother,Shoto.Thankyoufortheinvitation.Wearehonoredtomeetallthreeofyou.”
Theybowedinunison.AechandArt3misreturnedthebow,andIquicklyfollowedsuit.Asweeachintroducedourselves,DaitoandShotobowedtousonceagain,andonceagainweeachreturnedthegesture.
“Allright,”Aechsaid,onceallthebowinghadended.“Let’sgetthispartystarted.I’msureyou’veallseenthenews.TheSixersareswarmingalloverLudus.Thousandsofthem.They’reconductingasystematicsearchoftheentiresurfaceoftheplanet.Eveniftheydon’tknowexactlywhatthey’relookingfor,itstillwon’tbelongbeforetheyfindtheentrancetothetomb—”
“Actually,”Art3misinterrupted,“theyalreadyfoundit.Overthirtyminutesago.”
Weallturnedtolookather.
“Thathasn’tbeenreportedonthenewsfeedsyet,”Daitosaid.“Areyousure?”
Shenodded.“Afraidso.WhenIheardabouttheSixersthismorning,Idecidedtohideanuplinkcamerainsometreesnearthetombentrance,tokeepaneyeonthearea.”Sheopenedavidfeedwindowintheairinfrontofherandspunitaroundsotherestofuscouldsee.Itshowedawideshotoftheflat-toppedhillandtheclearingaroundit,lookingdownfromaspotinoneofthetreeshighabove.Fromthisangle,itwaseasytoseethatthelargeblackstonesontopofthehillwerearrangedtolooklikeahumanskull.WecouldalsoseethattheentireareawascrawlingwithSixers,andmoreseemedtobearrivingeverysecond.
Butthemostdisturbingthingwesawonthevidfeedwasthelargetransparentdomeofenergythatnowcoveredtheentirehill.
“Sonofabitch,”Aechsaid.“IsthatwhatIthinkitis?”
Art3misnodded.“Aforcefield.TheSixersinstalleditjustafterthefirstofthemarrived.So...”
“Sofromhereonout,”Daitosaid,“anygunterwhofindsthetombClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd152
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won’tbeabletogetinside.Notunlesstheycansomehowgetthroughthatforcefield.”
“Actually,they’veputuptwoforcefields,”Art3missaid.“Asmallfieldwithalargerfieldoverit.Theylowertheminsequence,whenevertheywanttoletmoreSixersenterthetomb.Likeanairlock.”Shepointedtothewindow.“Watch.They’redoingitnow.”
AsquadronofSixersmarcheddowntheloadingrampofagunshipparkednearby.Theywereallluggingequipmentcontainers.Astheyapproachedtheouterforcefield,itvanished,revealingasmallerdomedfieldinsidethefirst.Assoonasthesquadronreachedthewalloftheinnerforcefield,theouterfieldreappeared.Asecondlater,theinnerforcefieldwasdropped,allowingtheSixerstoenterthetomb.
Therewasalongsilencewhileweallcontemplatedthisnewdevelopment.
“Isupposeitcouldbeworse,”Aechsaidfinally.“IfthetombwereinaPvPzone,thoseassholeswouldalreadyhavelasercannonsandrobotsentriesmountedeverywhere,tovaporizeanyonewhoapproachedthearea.”
Hewasright.SinceLuduswasasafezone,theSixerscouldn’tharmgunterswhoapproachedthetomb.Buttherewasnothingtostopthemfromerectingaforcefieldtokeepthemout.Sothatwasexactlywhatthey’ddone.
“TheSixershaveobviouslybeenplanningforthismomentforsometimenow,”
Art3missaid,closinghervidfeedwindow.
“Theywon’tbeabletokeepeveryoneoutforverylong,”Aechsaid.
“Whentheclansfindoutaboutthis,it’llbeall-outwar.Therewillbethousandsofguntersattackingthatforcefieldwitheverythingthey’vegot.RPGs.Fireballs.Clusterbombs.Nukes.It’sgonnagetugly.They’llturnthatforestintoawasteland.”
“Yeah,butinthemeantime,SixeravatarswillbefarmingtheCopperKeyandthenfilingtheiravatarsthroughtheFirstGate,oneafteranother,inafreakin’congaline.”
“Buthowcantheydothis?”Shotoasked,hisyoungvoicebrimmingwithrage.Helookedtohisbrother.“It’snotfair.They’renotplayingfair.”
“Theydon’thaveto.TherearenolawsintheOASIS,littlebrother,”
Daitosaid.“TheSixerscandowhatevertheyplease.Theywon’tstopuntilsomeonestopsthem.”
“TheSixershavenohonor,”Shotosaid,scowling.
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“Youguysdon’tknowthehalfofit,”Aechsaid.“That’swhyParzivalandIaskedyouallhere.”Heturnedtome.“Z,doyouwanttotellthemwhathappened?”
Inoddedandturnedtotheothers.First,Itoldthemaboutthee-mailI’dreceivedfromIOI.They’dallreceivedthesameinvitation,buthadwiselyignoredit.ThenIrelatedthedetailsofmychat-roomsessionwithSorrento,doingmybestnottoleaveanythingout.Finally,Itoldthemhowourconversationhadended—withabombdetonatingatmyhomeaddress.BythetimeI’dfinished,their
avatarsallworelooksofstunneddisbelief.
“Jesus,”Art3miswhispered.“Nojoke?Theytriedtokillyou?”
“Yeah.Theywouldhavesucceeded,too,ifI’dbeenathome.Iwasjustlucky.”
“NowyouallknowhowfartheSixersarewillingtogotostopusfrombeatingthemtotheegg,”Aechsaid.“Ifthey’reabletolocateanyoneofus,we’redeadmeat.”
Inodded.“Soyoushouldalltakeprecautionstoprotectyourselvesandyouridentities,”Isaid.“Ifyouhaven’talready.”
Theyallnodded.Therewasanotherlongsilence.
“There’sstillonethingIdon’tunderstand,”Art3missaidamomentlater.“HowdidtheSixersknowtolookforthetombonLudus?Didsomeonetipthemoff?”Sheglancedaroundateachofus,buttherewasnohintofaccusationinhervoice.
“TheymusthaveseentherumorsaboutParzivalandAechthatwerepostedonalloftheguntermessageboards,”Shotosaid.“That’showweknewtolookthere.”
Daitowinced,thenpunchedhislittlebrotherintheshoulder.“Didn’tItellyoutokeepquiet,blabbermouth?”hehissed.Shotolookedsheepishandclammedup.
“Whatrumors?”Art3misasked.Shelookedatme.“What’shetalkingabout?Ihaven’thadtimetochecktheboardsinafewdays.”
“SeveralpostsweremadebygunterswhoclaimedtoknowParzivalandAech,sayingtheywerebothstudentsonLudus.”HeturnedtoAechandme.“MybrotherandIhavespentthepasttwoyearssearchingfortheTombofHorrors.We’vescoureddozensofworldslookingforit.ButweneverthoughttolookonLudus.Notuntilweheardthatyouattendedschoolthere.”
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“ItneveroccurredtomethatattendingschoolonLuduswassomethingIneededtokeepasecret,”Isaid.“SoIdidn’t.”
“Yeah,andit’sluckyforusthatyoudidn’t,”Aechsaid.Heturnedtotheothers.“Parzivalunintentionallytippedmeoffaboutthetomb’slocation,too.IneverthoughttolookforitonLudus,either,untilhisnameappearedontheScoreboard.”
Daitonudgedhisyoungerbrother,andtheybothfacedmeandbowed.
“Youwerethefirsttofindthetomb’shidingplace,soweoweyouourgratitudeforleadingustoit.”
Ireturnedtheirbow.“Thanks,guys.Butactually,Art3misherefounditfirst.Totallyonherown.AmonthbeforeIdid.”
“Yeah,forallthegooditdidme,”Art3missaid.“Icouldn’tdefeatthelichatJoust.I’dbeenatitforweekswhenthispunkshowedupanddiditonhisfirsttry.”Sheexplainedhowwemet,andhowshefinallymanagedtobeatthekingthefollowingday,rightaftertheserverresetatmidnight.
“IhaveAechheretothankformyjoustingprowess,”Isaid.“Weusedtoplayallthetime,hereintheBasement.That’stheonlyreasonIbeatthekingonmyfirstattempt.”
“Ditto,”Aechsaid.Hestretchedouthishandandwebumpedfists.
DaitoandShotobothsmiled.“Itwasthesamewithus,”Daitosaid.
“MybrotherandIhavebeenplayingJoustagainstoneanotherforyears,becausethegamewasmentionedinAnorak’sAlmanac.”
“Great,”Art3missaid,throwingupherhands.“Goodforyouguys.
Youwereallpreparedinadvance.I’msohappyforyou.Bravo.”Shegaveusallasarcasticgolfclap,whichmadeeveryonelaugh.“Now,canwead-journthe
MutualAdmirationSocietyandgetbacktothetopicathand?”
“Sure,”Aechsaid,smiling.“Whatwasthetopicathand?”
“TheSixers?”Art3misoffered.
“Right!Ofcourse!”Aechrubbedthebackofhisneckwhilebitinghislowerlip,somethinghealwaysdidwhenhewastryingtogatherhisthoughts.“Yousaidtheyfoundthetomblessthananhourago,right?
Soanyminutenow,they’llreachthethroneroomandfaceoffagainstthelich.Butwhatdoyouthinkhappenswhenmultipleavatarsentertheburialchamberatthesametime?”
IturnedtoDaitoandShoto.“YournamesappearedontheScoreboardonthesameday,justafewminutesapart.Soyouenteredthethroneroomtogether,didn’tyou?”
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Daitonodded.“Yes,”hesaid.“Andwhenwesteppedonthedais,twocopiesofthekingappeared,oneforeachofustoplay.”
“Great,”Art3missaid.“SoitmightbepossibleforhundredsofSixerstojoustfortheCopperKeyatthesametime.Oreventhousands.”
“Yeah,”Shotosaid.“Buttogetthekey,eachSixerhastobeatthelichatJoust,whichweallknowisn’teasy.”
“TheSixersareusinghackedimmersionrigs,”Isaid.“Sorrentowasboastingaboutittome.They’vegotitsetupsothatdifferentuserscancontroltheactionsofeveryoneoftheiravatars.SotheycanjusthavetheirbestJoustplayerstakecontrolofeachSixeravatarduringthematchagainstAcererak.Oneaftertheother.”
“Cheatingbastards,”Aechrepeated.
“TheSixershavenohonor,”Daitosaid,shakinghishead.
“Yeah,”Art3missaid,rollinghereyes.“We’veestablishedthat.”
“Itgetsworse,”Isaid.“EverySixerhasasupportteammadeupofHallidayscholars,videogameexperts,andcryptologistswhoaretheretohelpthembeateverychallengeandsolveeverypuzzletheyencounter.PlayingthroughtheWarGamessimulationwillbeapieceofcakeforthem.Someonewilljustfeedthemthedialogue.”
“Unbelievable,”Aechmuttered.“Howarewesupposedtocompetewiththat?”
“Wecan’t,”Art3missaid.“OncetheyhavetheCopperKey,they’llprobablylocatetheFirstGatejustasquicklyaswealldid.Itwon’ttakethemverylongtocatchupwithus.AndoncetheyhavetheriddleabouttheJadeKey,they’llhavetheireggheadsworkingaroundtheclocktodecipherit.”
“IftheyfindtheJadeKey’shidingplacebeforewedo,they’llbarricadeit,too,”Isaid.“Andthenthefiveofuswillbeinthesameboateveryoneelseisinrightnow.”
Art3misnodded.Aechkickedthecoffeetableinfrustration.“Thisisn’tevenremotelyfair,”hesaid.“TheSixershaveahugeadvantageoverallofus.They’vegotanendlesssupplyofmoney,weapons,vehicles,andavatars.Therearethousandsofthem,allworkingtogether.”
“Right,”Isaid.“Andeachofusisonourown.Well,exceptforyoutwo.”InoddedatDaitoandShoto.“ButyouknowwhatImean.They’vegotusoutnumberedandoutgunned,andthatisn’tgoingtochangeanytimesoon.”
“Whatareyousuggesting?”Daitoasked.Hesuddenlysoundeduneasy.
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“I’mnotsuggestinganything,”Isaid.“I’mjuststatingthefacts,asIseethem.”
“Good,”Daitoreplied.“Becauseitsoundedlikeyouwereabouttoproposesomesortofalliancebetweenthefiveofus.”
Aechstudiedhimcarefully.“So?Wouldthatbesuchaterribleidea?”
“Yes,itwould,”Daitosaidcurtly.“MybrotherandIhuntalone.Wedon’twantorneedyourhelp.”
“Ohreally?”Aechsaid.“Asecondago,youadmittedneedingParzival’shelptofindtheTombofHorrors.”
Daito’seyesnarrowed.“Wewouldhavefounditonourowneventually.”
“Right,”Aechsaid.“Itprobablywouldhaveonlytakenyouanotherfiveyears.”
“Comeon,Aech,”Isaid,steppingbetweenthem.“Thisisn’thelping.”
AechandDaitoglaredateachotherinsilence,whileShotostaredupathisbrotheruncertainly.Art3misjuststoodbackandwatched,lookingsomewhatamused.
“Wedidn’tcomeheretobeinsulted,”Daitosaidfinally.“We’releaving.”
“Holdon,Daito,”Isaid.“Justwaitasecond,willyou?Let’sjusttalkthisout.Weshouldn’tpartasenemies.We’reallonthesamesidehere.”
“No,”Daitosaid.“We’renot.You’reallstrangerstous.Forallweknow,anyoneofyoucouldbeaSixerspy.”
Art3mislaughedoutloudatthat,thencoveredhermouth.Daitoignoredher.“Thisispointless,”hesaid.“Onlyonepersoncanbethefirsttofindtheeggandwintheprize,”hesaid.“Andthatpersonwillbeeithermeormybrother.”
Andwiththat,DaitoandShotobothabruptlyloggedout.
“Thatwentwell,”Art3missaid,oncetheiravatarshadvanished.
Inodded.“Yeah,realsmooth,Aech.Waytobuildbridges.”
“WhatdidIdo?”hesaiddefensively.“Daitowasbeingacompleteasshole!Besides,it’snotlikewewereaskinghimtoteamup,anyway.I’manavowedsolo.Andsoareyou.AndArt3misherelookslikethelone-wolftypetoo.”
“Guiltyascharged,”shesaid,grinning.“Butevenso,thereisanargumenttobemadeforforminganallianceagainsttheSixers.”
“Maybe,”Aechsaid.“Butthinkaboutit.IfyoufindtheJadeKeybeforeeitherofusdo,areyougoingtobegenerousandtelluswhereitis?”
Art3missmirked.“Ofcoursenot.”
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“Meneither,”Aechsaid.“Sothere’snopointindiscussinganalliance.”
Art3misshrugged.“Well,thenitlookslikethemeetingisover.Ishouldprobablygetgoing.”Shewinkedatme.“Theclockisticking.Right,boys?”
“Ticktock,”Isaid.
“Goodluck,fellas.”Shegaveusbothawave.“Seeyaaround.”
“Seeya,”webothansweredinunison.
Iwatchedheravatarslowlydisappear,thenturnedtofindAechsmilingatme.“Whatareyougrinningabout?”Iasked.
“You’vegotacrushonher,don’tyou?”
“What?OnArt3mis?No—”
“Don’tdenyit,Z.Youweremakinggooglyeyesatherthewholetimeshewas
here.”Hedidhisimpressionofthis,claspingbothhandstohischestandbattinghiseyelasheslikeasilentfilmstar.“Irecordedthewholechatsession.Doyouwantmetoplayitbackforyou,soyoucanseehowsillyyoulooked?”
“Stopbeingadick.”
“It’sunderstandable,man,”Aechsaid.“Thatgirlissupercute.”
“So,haveyouhadanyluckwiththenewriddle?”Isaid,deliberatelychangingthesubject.“ThatquatrainabouttheJadeKey?”
“Quatrain?”
“‘Apoemorstanzawithfourlinesandanalternatingrhymescheme,’”
Irecited.“It’scalledaquatrain.”
Aechrolledhiseyes.“You’retoomuch,man.”
“What?That’sthepropertermforit,asshead!”
“It’sjustariddle,dude.Andno.Ihaven’thadanyluckfiguringitoutyet.”
“Meneither,”Isaid.“Soweprobablyshouldn’tbestandingaroundjabberingateachother.Timetoputournosestothegrindstone.”
“Iconcur,”hesaid.“But—”
Justthen,astackofcomicbooksontheothersideoftheroomslidofftheendtablewheretheywerepiledandcrashedtothefloor,asifsomethinghadknockedthemover.AechandIbothjumped,thenexchangedconfusedlooks.
“Whatthehellwasthat?”Isaid.
“Idon’tknow.”Aechwalkedoverandexaminedthescatteredcomics.
“Maybeasoftwareglitchorsomething?”
“I’veneverseenachat-roomglitchlikethat,”Isaid,scanningtheemptyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd158
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room.“Couldsomeoneelsebeinhere?Aninvisibleavatar,eavesdroppingonus?”
Aechrolledhiseyes.“Noway,Z,”hesaid.“You’regettingwaytooparanoid.Thisisanencryptedprivatechatroom.Noonecanenterwithoutmypermission.Youknowthat.”
“Right,”Isaid,stillfreakedout.
“Relax.Itwasaglitch.”Herestedahandonmyshoulder.“Listen.Letmeknowifyouchangeyourmindaboutneedingaloan.Oraplacetocrash.OK?”
“I’llbeallright,”Isaid.“Butthanks,amigo.”
Webumpedfistsagain,liketheWonderTwinsactivatingtheirpowers.
“I’llcatchyoulater.Goodluck,Z.”
“Sametoyou,Aech.”
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Afewhourslater,theremainingslotsontheScoreboardbegantofillup,oneafteranother,inrapidsuccession.Notwithavatarnames,butwithIOIemployeenumbers.Eachwouldappearwithascoreof5,000
points(whichnowappearedtobethefixedvalueforobtainingtheCopperKey);thenthescorewouldjumpbyanother100,000pointsafewhourslater,oncethatSixerhadclearedtheFirstGate.Bytheendoftheday,theScoreboardlookedlikethis:
HIGHSCORES:
1.Parzival
110,000
2.Art3mis
109,000
3.Aech
108,000
4.Daito
107,000
5.Shoto
106,000
6.IOI-655321
105,000
7.IOI-643187
105,000
8.IOI-621671
105,000
9.IOI-678324
105,000
10.IOI-637330
105,000
IrecognizedthefirstSixeremployeenumbertoappear,becauseI’dseenitprintedonSorrento’suniform.He’dprobablyinsistedthathisavatarbethefirsttoobtaintheCopperKeyandclearthegate.ButIhadaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd160
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hardtimebelievinghe’ddoneitonhisown.TherewasnowayhewasthatgoodatJoust.OrthatheknewWarGamesbyheart.ButInowknewthathedidn’thavetobe.Whenhereachedachallengehecouldn’thandle,likewinningatJoust,hecouldjusthandcontrolofhisavatarofftooneofhisunderlings.AndduringtheWarGameschallengehe’dprobablyjusthadsomeonefeedinghimallofthedialogueviahishackedimmersionrig.
Oncetheremainingemptyslotswerefilled,theScoreboardbegantogrowinlength,todisplayrankingsbeyondtenthplace.Beforelong,twentyavatarswerelistedontheScoreboard.Thenthirty.Overthenexttwenty-fourhours,oversixtySixeravatarsclearedtheFirstGate.
Meanwhile,LudushadbecomethemostpopulardestinationintheOASIS.
Transportterminalsallovertheplanetwerespittingoutasteadystreamofgunterswhothenswarmedacrosstheglobe,creatingchaosanddisruptingclassesoneveryschoolcampus.TheOASISPublicSchoolBoardsawthewritingonthewall,andthedecisionwasquicklymadetoevacuateLudusandrelocateallofitsschoolstoanewlocation.Anidenticalcopyoftheplanet,LudusII,wascreatedinthesamesector,ashortdistanceawayfromtheoriginal.Allstudentsweregivenadayofffromschoolwhileabackupcopyoftheplanet’soriginalsourcecodewascopiedovertothenewsite(minustheTombofHorrorscodeHallidayhadsecretlyaddedtoitatsomepoint).ClassesresumedonLudusIIthefollowingday,andLuduswasleftfortheSixersandgunterstofightover.
NewsspreadquicklythattheSixerswereencampedaroundasmallflat-toppedhillatthecenterofaremoteforest.Thetomb’sexactlocationappearedonthemessageboardsthatevening,alongwithscreenshotsshowingtheforcefieldtheSixershaderectedtokeepeveryoneelseout.
Thesescreenshotsalsoclearlyshowedtheskullpatternofthestonesonthehilltop.Inamatterofhours,theconnectiontotheTombofHorrorsD&Dmodulewaspostedtoeverysingleguntermessageboard.Thenithitthenewsfeeds.
Allofthelargegunterclansimmediatelybandedtogethertolaunchafull-scaleassaultontheSixers’forcefield,tryingeverythingtheycouldthinkoftobringitdownorcircumventit.TheSixershadinstalledteleportationdisruptors,whichpreventedanyonefromtransportinginsidetheforcefieldviatechnologicalmeans.Theyhadalsostationedateamofhigh-levelwizardsaroundthetomb.Thesemagicuserscastspellsaroundtheclock,keepingtheentireareaencasedinatemporarynull-magiczone.
Thispreventedtheforcefieldsfrombeingbypassedbyanymagicalmeans.
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Theclansbegantobombardtheouterforcefieldwithrockets,missiles,nukes,andharshlanguage.Theylaidsiegetothetomballnight,butthefollowingmorning,bothforcefieldsremainedintact.
Indesperation,theclansdecidedtobreakouttheheavyartillery.Theypooledtheirresourcesandpurchasedtwoveryexpensive,verypowerfulantimatterbombsoneBay.Theydetonatedbothoftheminsequence,justafewsecondsapart.Thefirstbombtookdowntheoutershield,andthesecondbombfinishedthejob.Themomentthesecondforcefieldwentdown,thousandsofgunters(allunharmedbythebombblasts,duetotheno-PvPzone)swarmedintothetombandcloggedthecorridorsofthedungeonbelow.Soon,thousandsofgunters(andSixers)hadcrammedintotheburialchamber,allreadytochallengethelichkingtoagameofJoust.Multiplecopiesofthekingappeared,oneforeveryavatarwhosetfootonthedais.Ninety-fivepercentofthegunterswhochallengedhimlostandwerethenkilled.Butafewguntersweresuccessful,andatthebottomoftheScoreboard,listedaftertheHighFiveandthedozensofIOIemployeenumbers,newavatarnamesbegantoappear.Withinafewdays,thelistofavatarsontheScoreboardwasoverahundrednameslong.
Nowthattheareawasfullofgunters,itbecameimpossiblefortheSixerstoputtheirforcefieldbackinoperation.Guntersweremobbingthemanddestroyingtheirshipsandequipmentonsight.SotheSixersgaveupontheirbarricade,buttheycontinuedtosendavatarsintotheTombofHorrorstofarmcopiesoftheCopperKey.Noonecoulddoanythingtostopthem.
...
Thedayaftertheexplosioninthestacks,therewasabriefstoryaboutitononeofthelocalnewsfeeds.Theyshowedavideoclipofvolunteerssiftingthroughthewreckageforhumanremains.Whattheydidfindcouldn’tbeidentified.
ItseemedthattheSixershadalsoplantedalargeamountofdrug-manufacturingequipmentandchemicalsatthescene,tomakeitlooklikeamethlabinoneofthetrailershadexploded.Itworkedlikeacharm.Thecopsdidn’tbothertoinvestigateanyfurther.Thestacksweresodensearoundthepileofcrushedandcharredtrailersthatitwastoodangeroustotrytoclearthemoutwithoneoftheoldconstructioncranes.Theyjustleftthewreckagewhereitwas,toslowlyrustintotheearth.
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Assoonasthefirstendorsementpaymentarrivedinmyaccount,Iboughtaone-waybustickettoColumbus,Ohio,settodepartateightthefollowingmorning.Ipaidextraforafirst-classseat,whichcamewithacomfierchairandahigh-bandwidthuplinkjack.IplannedtospendmostofthelongrideeastloggedintotheOASIS.
Oncemytripwasbooked,IinventoriedeverythinginmyhideoutandpackedtheitemsIwantedtotakewithmeintoanoldrucksack.Myschool-issuedOASISconsole,visor,andgloves.Mydog-earedprintoutofAnorak’sAlmanac.Mygraildiary.Someclothes.Mylaptop.EverythingelseIleftbehind.
Whenitgotdark,Iclimbedoutofthevan,lockedit,andhurledthekeysoffintothejunkpile.ThenIhoistedtherucksackandwalkedoutofthestacksforthelasttime.Ididn’tlookback.
Ikepttobusystreetsandmanagedtoavoidgettingmuggedonthewaytothebusterminal.Abatteredcustomer-servicekioskstoodjustinsidethedoor,andafteraquickretinalscanitspatoutmyticket.Isatbythegate,readingmycopyoftheAlmanac,untilitwastimetoboardthebus.
Itwasadouble-decker,witharmorplating,bulletproofwindows,andsolarpanelsontheroof.Arollingfortress.Ihadawindowseat,tworowsbehindthedriver,whowasencasedinabulletproofPlexiglasbox.Ateamofsixheavilyarmedguardsrodeonthebus’supperdeck,toprotectthevehicleanditspassengersintheeventofahijackingbyroadagentsorscavengers—adistinctpossibilityonceweventuredoutintothelawlessbadlandsthatnowexistedoutsideofthesafetyoflargecities.
Everysingleseatonthebuswasoccupied.Mostofthepassengersputontheirvisorsthemomenttheysatdown.Ileftmineoffforawhile,though.Longenoughtowatchthecityofmybirthrecedefromviewontheroadbehindusaswerolledthroughtheseaofwindturbinesthatsurroundedit.
Thebus’selectricmotorhadatopspeedofaboutfortymilesanhour,butduetothedeterioratinginterstatehighwaysystemandthecountlessstopsthebushadtomakeatchargingstationsalongtheway,ittookseveraldaysformetoreachmydestination.IspentnearlyallofthattimeloggedintotheOASIS,preparingtostartmynewlife.
Thefirstorderofbusinesswastocreateanewidentity.Thiswasn’tthatdifficult,nowthatIhadsomemoney.IntheOASIS,youcouldbuyalmostanykindofinformationifyouknewwheretolookandwhotoask,andClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd163
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ifyoudidn’tmindbreakingthelaw.Therewereplentyofdesperateandcorruptpeopleworkingforthegovernment(andforeverymajorcorporation),andthesepeopleoftensoldinformationontheOASISblackmarket.
Mynewstatusasaworld-famousguntergavemeallkindsofunder-worldcredibility,whichhelpedmegetaccesstoahighlyexclusiveillegaldata-auctionsiteknownastheL33tHax0rzWarezhaus,andforashockinglysmallamountofmoney,IwasabletopurchaseaseriesofaccessproceduresandpasswordsfortheUSCR(UnitedStatesCitizenRegistry)database.Usingthese,Iwasabletologintothedatabaseandaccessmyexistingcitizenprofile,whichhadbeencreatedwhenIenrolledforschool.
Ideletedmyfingerprintsandretinalpatterns,thenreplacedthemwiththoseofsomeonedeceased(myfather).ThenIcopiedmyownfingerprintsandretinalpatternsintoacompletelynewidentityprofilethatI’dcreated,underthenameBryceLynch.ImadeBrycetwenty-twoyearsoldandgavehimabrand-newSocialSecuritynumber,animmaculatecreditrating,andabachelor’sdegreeinComputerScience.WhenIwantedtobecomemyoldselfagain,allIhadtodowasdeletetheLynchidentityandcopymyprintsandretinalpatternsbackovertomyoriginalfile.
Oncemynewidentitywassetup,IbegansearchingtheColumbusclassifiedsforasuitableapartmentandfoundarelativelyinexpensiveroominanoldhigh-
risehotel,arelicfromthedayswhenpeoplephysicallytraveledforbusinessandpleasure.Theroomshadallbeenconvertedintoone-roomefficiencyapartments,andeachunithadbeenmodifiedtomeettheveryspecificneedsofafull-timegunter.IthadeverythingIwanted.Lowrent,ahigh-endsecuritysystem,andsteady,reliableaccesstoasmuchelectricityasIcouldafford.Mostimportant,itofferedadirectfiber-opticconnectiontothemainOASISservervault,whichwaslocatedjustafewmilesaway.ThiswasthefastestandmostsecuretypeofInternetconnectionavailable,andsinceitwasn’tprovidedbyIOIoroneofitssubsidiaries,Iwouldn’thavetobeparanoidaboutthemmonitoringmyconnectionortryingtotracemylocation.Iwouldbesafe.
Ispokewitharentalagentinachatroom,andheshowedmearoundavirtualmock-upofmynewdigs.Theplacelookedperfect.Irentedtheroomundermynewnameandpaidsixmonths’rentupfront.Thatkepttheagentfromaskinganyquestions.
...
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Sometimes,duringthelatehoursofthenight,asthebusslowlyhummedalongthecrumblinghighway,Iremovedmyvisorandstaredoutthewindow.I’dneverbeenoutsideofOklahomaCitybefore,andIwascurioustoseewhattherestofthecountrylookedlike.Buttheviewwasperpetuallybleak,andeachdecaying,overcrowdedcitywerolledthroughlookedjustlikethelast.
Finally,afteritfeltlikewe’dbeencrawlingalongthehighwayformonths,theColumbusskylineappearedonthehorizon,glitteringlikeOzattheendoftheyellowbrickroad.Wearrivedaroundsunset,andalreadythereweremoreelectriclightsburninginthecitythanI’deverseenatonetime.I’dreadthatgiantsolararrayswerepositionedthroughoutthecity,alongwithtwoheliostatpowerplantsonitsoutskirts.Theydrankinthesun’spowerallday,storedit,andfeditbackouteachnight.
AswepulledintotheColumbusbusterminal,myOASISconnectioncutout.AsIpulledoffmyvisorandfiledoffthebuswiththeotherpassengers,therealityofmysituationfinallybegantohithome.Iwasnowafugitive,livingunderanassumedname.Powerfulpeoplewereoutlookingforme.Peoplewhowantedmedead.
AsIsteppedoffthebus,Isuddenlyfeltasthoughaheavyweightwererestingonmychest.Iwashavingahardtimebreathing.MaybeIwashavingapanicattack.Iforcedmyselftotakedeepbreathsandtriedtocalmdown.AllIhadtodowastogettomynewapartment,setupmyrig,andlogbackintotheOASIS.Theneverythingwouldbeallright.Iwouldbebackinfamiliarsurroundings.Iwouldbesafe.
Ihailedanautocabandenteredmynewaddressonthetouchscreen.
Thesynthesizedvoiceofthecab’scomputertoldmethedrivewouldtakeanestimatedthirty-twominuteswiththecurrenttrafficconditions.Duringtheride,Istaredoutthewindowatthedarkcitystreets.Istillfeltlight-headedandanxious.Ikeptglancingatthemetertoseehowmuchfartherwehadtogo.Finally,thecabpulledupinfrontofmynewapartmentbuilding,aslate-graymonolithonthebanksoftheScioto,justattheedgeoftheTwinRiversghetto.Inoticedadiscoloredoutlineonthebuilding’sfaçadewheretheHiltonlogousedtobe,backwhentheplacehadbeenahotel.
Ithumbedmyfareandclimbedoutofthecab.ThenItookonelastlookaround,inhaledonefinalbreathoffreshair,andcarriedmybagthroughthefrontdoorandintothelobby.WhenIsteppedinsidethesecurityClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd165
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checkpointcage,myfingerprintsandretinalpatternswerescanned,andmynewnameflashedonthemonitor.Agreenlightlitupandthecagedoorslidopen,allowingmetocontinueontotheelevators.
Myapartmentwasontheforty-secondfloor,number4211.Thesecuritylock
mountedoutsiderequiredanotherretinalscan.Thenthedoorslidopenandtheinteriorlightsswitchedon.Therewasnofurnitureinthecube-shapedroom,andonlyonewindow.Isteppedinside,closedthedoor,andlockeditbehindme.ThenImadeasilentvownottogooutsideagainuntilIhadcompletedmyquest.IwouldabandontherealworldaltogetheruntilIfoundtheegg.
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LevelTwo
I’mnotcrazyaboutreality,butit’s
stilltheonlyplacetogetadecentmeal.
—GrouchoMarx
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Art3mis:Youthere?
Parzival:Yes!Hey!Ican’tbelieveyoufinallyrespondedtooneofmychatrequests.
Art3mis:Onlytoaskyoutocutitout.It’sabadideaforustostartchatting.
Parzival:Why?Ithoughtwewerefriends.
Art3mis:Youseemlikeagreatguy.Butwe’recompetitors.Rivalgunters.Swornenemies.Youknowthedrill.
Parzival:Wedon’thavetotalkaboutanythingrelatedtotheHunt....
Art3mis:EverythingisrelatedtotheHunt.
Parzival:Comeon.Atleastgiveitatshot.Let’sstartover.Hi,Art3mis!Howhaveyoubeen?
Art3mis:Fine.Thanksforasking.You?
Parzival:Outstanding.Listen,whyareweusingthisancienttext-onlychatinterface?Icanhostavirtualchatroomforus.
Art3mis:Ipreferthis.
Parzival:Why?
Art3mis:Asyoumayrecall,Itendtorambleinrealtime.WhenIhavetotypeouteverythingIwanttosay,Icomeoffaslessofaflibbertigibbet.
Parzival:Idon’tthinkyou’reaflibbertigibbet.You’reenchanting.
Art3mis:Didyoujustusetheword“enchanting”?
Parzival:WhatItypedisrightthereinfrontofyou,isn’tit?
Art3mis:That’sverysweet.Butyou’refullofcrap.
Parzival:Iamtotallyandcompletelyserious.
Art3mis:So,how’slifeatthetopoftheScoreboard,hotshot?Sickofbeingfamousyet?
Parzival:Idon’tfeelfamous.
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Art3mis:Areyoukidding?Thewholeworldisdyingtofindoutwhoyoureallyare.You’rearockstar,man.
Parzival:You’rejustasfamousasIam.AndifI’msucharockstar,howcomethemediaalwaysportraysmeassomeunwashedgeekwhonevergoesoutside?
Art3mis:ItakeityousawthatSNLskittheydidaboutus?
Parzival:Yes.WhydoeseveryoneassumeI’manantisocialnutjob?
Art3mis:You’renotantisocial?
Parzival:No!Maybe.OK,yes.ButIhaveexcellentpersonalhygiene.
Art3mis:Atleasttheygotyourgendercorrect.EveryonethinksI’mamaninreallife.
Parzival:That’sbecausemostguntersaremale,andtheycan’taccepttheideathatawomanhasbeatenand/oroutsmartedthem.
Art3mis:Iknow.Neanderthals.
Parzival:Soyou’retelingme,definitively,thatyouareafemale?IRL?
Art3mis:Youshouldhavealreadyfiguredthatoutonyourown,Clouseau.
Parzival:Idid.Ihave.
Art3mis:Haveyou?
Parzival:Yes.Afteranalyzingtheavailabledata,I’veconcludedthatyoumustbeafemale.
Art3mis:WhymustI?
Parzival:BecauseIdon’twanttofindoutthatI’vegotacrushonsome300lb.dudenamedChuckwholivesinhismother’sbasementinsuburbanDetroit.
Art3mis:You’vegotacrushonme?
Parzival:Youshouldhavealreadyfiguredthatoutonyourown,Clouseau.
Art3mis:WhatifIwerea300lb.galnamedCharlene,wholivesinhermom’sbasementinsuburbanDetroit?Wouldyoustillhaveacrushonmethen?
Parzival:Idon’tknow.Doyouliveinyourmother’sbasement?
Art3mis:No.
Parzival:Yeah.ThenIprobablystillwould.
Art3mis:SoI’msupposedtobelieveyou’reoneofthosemythicalguyswhoonlycaresaboutawoman’spersonality,andnotaboutthepackageitcomesin?
Parzival:WhyisitthatyouassumeI’maman?
Art3mis:Please.It’sobvious.Igetnothingbutboy-vibescomingfromyou.
Parzival:Boy-vibes?What,doIusemasculinesentencestructureorsomething?
Art3mis:Don’tchangethesubject.Youweresayingyouhaveacrushonme?
Parzival:I’vehadacrushonyousincebeforeweevenmet.FromreadingyourblogandwatchingyourPOV.I’vebeencyber-stalkingyouforyears.
Art3mis:Butyoustilldon’treallyknowanythingaboutme.Ormyrealpersonality.
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Parzival:ThisistheOASIS.Weexistasnothingbutrawpersonalityinhere.
Art3mis:Ibegtodiffer.Everythingaboutouronlinepersonasisfilteredthroughouravatars,whichallowsustocontrolhowwelookandsoundtoothers.TheOASISletsyoubewhoeveryouwanttobe.That’swhyeveryoneisaddictedtoit.
Parzival:So,IRL,you’renothinglikethepersonImetthatnightinthetomb?
Art3mis:Thatwasjustonesideofme.ThesideIchosetoshowyou.
Parzival:Wel,Ilikedthatside.Andifyoushowedmeyourothersides,I’msureI’dlikethose,too.
Art3mis:Yousaythatnow.ButIknowhowthesethingswork.Soonerorlater,you’lldemandtoseeapictureoftherealme.
Parzival:I’mnotthesortwhomakesdemands.Besides,I’mdefinitelynotgoingtoshowyouaphotoofme.
Art3mis:Why?Areyoubuttugly?
Parzival:You’resuchahypocrite!
Art3mis:So?Answerthequestion,Claire.Areyouugly?
Parzival:Imustbe.
Art3mis:Why?
Parzival:Thefemaleofthespecieshasalwaysfoundmerepellent.
Art3mis:Idon’tfindyourepellent.
Parzival:Ofcoursenot.That’sbecauseyou’reanobesemannamedChuckwholikestochatupuglyyoungboysonline.
Art3mis:Soyou’reayoungman?
Parzival:Relativelyyoung.
Art3mis:Relativetowhat?
Parzival:Toafifty-three-year-oldguylikeyou,Chuck.Doesyourmomletyouliveinthatbasementrent-freeorwhat?
Art3mis:Isthatreallywhatyou’repicturing?
Parzival:Ifitwere,Iwouldn’tbechattingwithyourightnow.
Art3mis:SowhatdoyouimagineIlooklike,then?
Parzival:Likeyouravatar,Isuppose.Except,youknow,withoutthearmor,guns,orglowingsword.
Art3mis:You’rekidding,right?That’sthefirstruleofonlineromances,pal.Nooneeverlooksanythingliketheiravatar.
Parzival:Arewegoingtohaveanonlineromance?
Art3mis:Noway,ace.Sorry.
Parzival:Whynot?
Art3mis:Notimeforlove,Dr.Jones.Mycyber-pornaddictioneatsupmostofmyfreetime.
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AndsearchingfortheJadeKeytakesuptherest.That’swhatIshouldbedoingrightnow,infact.
Parzival:Yeah.SoshouldI.Buttalkingtoyouismorefun.
Art3mis:Howaboutyou?
Parzival:Howaboutmewhat?
Art3mis:Doyouhavetimeforanonlineromance?
Parzival:I’vegottimeforyou.
Art3mis:You’retoomuch.
Parzival:I’mnotevenlayingitonthickyet.
Art3mis:Doyouhaveajob?Orareyoustillinhighschool?
Parzival:Highschool.Igraduatenextweek.
Art3mis:Youshouldn’trevealstufflikethat!IcouldbeaSixerspytryingtoprofileyou.
Parzival:TheSixersalreadyprofiledme,remember?Theyblewupmyhouse.Wel,itwasatrailer.Buttheyblewitup.
Art3mis:Iknow.I’mstillfreakedoutaboutthat.Icanonlyimaginehowyoufeel.
Parzival:Revengeisadishbestservedcold.
Art3mis:Bonappetit.Whatdoyoudowhenyou’renothunting?
Parzival:Irefusetoansweranymorequestionsuntilyoustartreciprocating.
Art3mis:Fine.Quidproquo,Dr.Lecter.We’ltaketurnsaskingquestions.Goahead.
Parzival:Doyouwork,orgotoschool?
Art3mis:College.
Parzival:Studyingwhat?
Art3mis:It’smyturn.Whatdoyoudowhenyou’renothunting?
Parzival:Nothing.HuntingisallIdo.I’mhuntingrightnow,infact.
Multitaskingalloverthegoddamnplace.
Art3mis:Samehere.
Parzival:Really?I’llkeepaneyeontheScoreboardthen.Justincase.
Art3mis:Youdothat,ace.
Parzival:Whatareyoustudying?Incollege?
Art3mis:PoetryandCreativeWriting.
Parzival:Thatmakessense.You’reafantasticwriter.
Art3mis:Thanksforthecompliment.Howoldareyou?
Parzival:Justturned18lastmonth.You?
Art3mis:Don’tyouthinkwe’regettingalittletoopersonalnow?
Parzival:Notevenremotely.
Art3mis:19.
Parzival:Ah.Anolderwoman.Hot.
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Art3mis:Thatis,ifIamawoman...
Parzival:Areyouawoman?
Art3mis:It’snotyourturn.
Parzival:Fine.
Art3mis:HowwelldoyouknowAech?
Parzival:He’sbeenmybestfriendforfiveyears.Now,spillit.Areyouawoman?AndbythatImeanareyouahumanfemalewhohasneverhadasex-changeoperation?
Art3mis:That’sprettyspecific.
Parzival:Answerthequestion,Claire.
Art3mis:Iam,andalwayshavebeen,ahumanfemale.HaveyouevermetAechIRL?
Parzival:No.Doyouhaveanysiblings?
Art3mis:No.You?
Parzival:Nope.Yougotparents?
Art3mis:Theydied.Theflu.SoIwasraisedbymygrandparents.Yougotparentage?
Parzival:No.Minearedeadtoo.
Art3mis:Itkindasucks,doesn’tit?Nothavingyourparentsaround.
Parzival:Yeah.Butalotofpeopleareworseoffthanme.
Art3mis:Itellmyselfthatallthetime.So...areyouandAechworkingasaduo?
Parzival:Oh,herewego....
Art3mis:Well?Areyou?
Parzival:No.Heaskedmethesamethingaboutyouandme,youknow.BecauseyouclearedtheFirstGateafewhoursafterIdid.
Art3mis:Whichremindsme—whydidyougivemethattip?AboutchangingsidesontheJoustgame?
Parzival:Ifeltlikehelpingyou.
Art3mis:Well,youshouldn’tmakethatmistakeagain.BecauseI’mtheonewho’sgoingtowin.Youdorealizethat,right?
Parzival:Yeah,yeah.We’lsee.
Art3mis:You’renotholdingupyourendofourQ&A,goof.You’re,like,fivequestionsbehind.
Parzival:Fine.Whatcolorisyourhair?IRL?
Art3mis:Brunette.
Parzival:Eyes?
Art3mis:Blue.
Parzival:Justlikeyouravatar,eh?Doyouhavethesamefaceandbody,too?
Art3mis:Asfarasyouknow.
Parzival:OK.What’syourfavoritemovie?Ofalltime?
Art3mis:Itchanges.Rightnow?ProbablyHighlander.
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Parzival:You’vegotgreattaste,lady.
Art3mis:Iknow.Ihaveathingforevilbaldbadguys.TheKurganistoosexy.
Parzival:I’mgoingtoshavemyheadrightnow.Andstartwearingleather.
Art3mis:Sendphotos.Listen,Igottagoinafewminutes,Romeo.Youcanask
meonelastquestion.ThenIneedtogetsomesleep.
Parzival:Whencanwechatagain?
Art3mis:Afteroneofusfindstheegg.
Parzival:Thatcouldtakeyears.
Art3mis:Sobeit.
Parzival:CanIatleastkeepe-mailingyou?
Art3mis:Notagoodidea.
Parzival:Youcan’tstopmefrome-mailingyou.
Art3mis:Actually,Ican.Icanblockyouonmycontactlist.
Parzival:Youwouldn’tdothat,though.Wouldyou?
Art3mis:Notifyoudon’tforcemeto.
Parzival:Harsh.Unnecessarilyharsh.
Art3mis:Goodnight,Parzival.
Parzival:Farewell,Art3mis.Sweetdreams.
chatlogends.2.27.2045–02:51:38OST
...
Istartede-mailingher.AtfirstIshowedrestraintandonlywroteheronceaweek.Tomysurprise,sheneverfailedtorespond.Usuallyitwaswithjustasinglesentence,sayingshewastoobusytoreply.Butherreplieseventuallygotlongerandwebegantocorrespond.Afewtimesaweekatfirst.Then,asoure-mailsgrewlongerandmorepersonal,westartedwritingeachotheratleastonceaday.Sometimesmore.Wheneverane-mailfromherarrivedinmyinbox,Idroppedeverythingtoreadit.
Beforelong,weweremeetinginprivatechat-roomsessionsatleastonceaday.
Weplayedvintageboardgames,watchedmovies,andlistenedtomusic.Wetalkedforhours.Long,ramblingconversationsabouteverythingunderthesun.Spendingtimewithherwasintoxicating.Weseemedtohaveeverythingincommon.Wesharedthesameinterests.Weweredrivenbythesamegoal.Shegotallofmyjokes.Shemademelaugh.Shemademethink.ShechangedthewayIsawtheworld.I’dneverhadsuchapowerful,immediateconnectionwithanotherhumanbeingbefore.NotevenwithAech.
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Inolongercaredthatweweresupposedtoberivals,andshedidn’tseemtoeither.Webegantosharedetailsaboutourresearch.Wetoldeachotherwhatmovieswewerecurrentlywatchingandwhatbookswewerereading.WeevenbegantoexchangetheoriesandtodiscussourinterpretationsofspecificpassagesintheAlmanac.Icouldn’tmakemyselfbecautiousaroundher.Alittlevoiceinmyheadkepttryingtotellmethateverywordshesaidcouldbedisinformationandthatshemightjustbeplayingmeforafool.ButIdidn’tbelieveit.Itrustedher,eventhoughIhadeveryreasonnotto.
IgraduatedfromhighschoolinearlyJune.Ididn’tattendthegraduationceremony.I’dstoppedattendingclassesaltogetherwhenIfledthestacks.AsfarasIknew,theSixersthoughtIwasdead,andIdidn’twanttotipthemoffbyshowingupformylastfewweeksofschool.Missingfinalsweekwasn’tabigdeal,sinceIalreadyhadmorethanenoughcreditstoreceivemydiploma.Theschoole-mailedacopyofittome.Theysnail-mailedtheactualdiplomatomyaddressinthestacks,whichnolongerexisted,soIdon’tknowwhatbecameofit.
WhenIfinishedschool,I’dintendedtodevoteallofmytimetotheHunt.ButallIreallywantedtodowasspendtimewithArt3mis.
...
WhenIwasn’thangingoutwithmynewonlinepseudo-girlfriend,Idevotedthe
restofmytimetolevelingupmyavatar.Gunterscalledthis
“makingtheclimbtoninety-nine,”becauseninety-ninthlevelwasthemaximumpowerlevelanavatarcouldattain.Art3misandAechhadbothrecentlydoneit,andIfeltcompelledtocatchup.Itactuallydidn’ttakemeverylong.Inowhadnothingbutfreetime,andIhadthemoneyandthemeanstofullyexploretheOASIS.SoIbegantocompleteeveryquestIcouldfind,sometimesjumpingfiveorsixlevelsinoneday.Ibecameasplit-classWarrior/Mage.Asmystatscontinuedtoincrease,Ihonedmyavatar’scombatandspell-castingabilitieswhilecollectingawidearrayofpowerfulweapons,magicitems,andvehicles.
Art3misandIeventeamedupforafewquests.WevisitedtheplanetGoondocksandfinishedtheentireGooniesquestinjustoneday.ArtyplayedthroughitasMarthaPlimpton’scharacter,Stef,whileIplayedasMikey,SeanAstin’scharacter.Itwasentirelytoomuchfun.
Ididn’tspendallofmytimegoofingoff.ItriedtokeepmyheadintheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd175
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game.ReallyIdid.Atleastonceaday,IwouldpulluptheQuatrainandtryonceagaintodecipheritsmeaning.
ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
inadwellinglongneglected
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Forawhile,Ithoughtthatthewhistleinthethirdlinemightbeareferencetoalate-’60sJapaneseTVshowcalledTheSpaceGiants,whichhadbeendubbedinEnglishandrebroadcastintheUnitedStatesinthe’70sand’80s.TheSpaceGiants(calledMagumaTaishiinJapan)featuredafamilyoftransformingrobotswholivedinavolcanoandbattledanevilalienvillainnamedRodak.HallidayreferredtothisshowseveraltimesinAnorak’sAlmanac,citingitasoneofhischildhoodfavorites.Oneoftheshow’smaincharacterswasaboynamedMiko,whowouldblowaspecialwhistletosummontherobotstohisaid.Iwatchedallfifty-twoultra-cheesyepisodesofTheSpaceGiants,back-to-back,whilewolfingdowncornchipsandtakingnotes.Butwhentheviewingmarathonwasover,Istillwasn’tanyclosertounderstandingtheQuatrain’smeaning.I’dhitanotherdeadend.IdecidedthatHallidaymustbereferringtosomeotherwhistle.
Then,oneSaturdaymorning,Ifinallymadeasmallbreakthrough.
Iwaswatchingacollectionofvintage’80scerealcommercialswhenIpausedtowonderwhycerealmanufacturersnolongerincludedtoyprizesinsideeverybox.Itwasatragedy,inmyopinion.Anothersignthatcivilizationwasgoingstraightdownthetubes.IwasstillponderingthiswhenanoldCap’nCrunchcommercialcameon,andthatwaswhenImadeaconnectionbetweenthefirstandthirdlinesoftheQuatrain:ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey...Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle...
Hallidaywasalludingtoafamous’70shackernamedJohnDraper,betterknownbythealiasCaptainCrunch.Draperwasoneofthefirstphonephreaks,andhewasfamousfordiscoveringthatthetoyplasticwhistlesfoundasprizesinboxesofCap’nCrunchcerealcouldbeusedtomakefreelong-distancephonecalls,becausetheyemitteda2600-hertztonethattrickedtheoldanalogphonesystemintogivingyoufreeaccesstotheline.
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ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
Thathadtobeit.“Thecaptain”wasCap’nCrunch,and“thewhistle”
wasthefamoustoyplasticwhistleofphonephreaklore.
MaybetheJadeKeywasdisguisedasoneofthosetoyplasticwhistles,anditwashiddeninaboxofCap’nCrunchcereal....Butwherewasthatcerealboxhidden?
Inadwellinglongneglected
Istilldidn’tknowwhatlong-neglecteddwellingthatlinereferredto,orwheretolookforit.IvisitedeveryneglecteddwellingIcouldthinkof.Re-creationsoftheAddamsFamilyhouse,theabandonedshackintheEvilDeadtrilogy,TylerDurden’sflophouseinFightClub,andtheLarsHomesteadonTattooine.NoluckfindingtheJadeKeyinsideanyofthem.
Deadendafterdeadend.
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
Oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Istillhadn’tdecipheredthemeaningofthatlastline,either.WhattrophiesdidIhavetocollect?Orwasthatsomekindofhalf-assedmetaphor?
TherehadtobeasimpleconnectionIwasn’tmaking,aslyreferencethatIstillwasn’tcleverorknowledgeableenoughtocatch.
Sincethen,I’dfailedtomakeanymoreprogress.EverytimeIrevisitedtheQuatrain,myongoinginfatuationwithArt3miswouldunderminemyabilitytofocus,andbeforelongIwouldclosemygraildiaryandcallheruptoseeifshewantedtohangout.Shealmostalwaysdid.
Iconvincedmyselfthatitwasallrighttoslackoffabit,becausenooneelseseemedtobemakinganyprogressintheirsearchfortheJadeKey.
TheScoreboardremainedunchanged.EveryoneelseseemedtobejustasstumpedasIwas.
...
Astheweekscontinuedtopass,Art3misandIspentmoreandmoretimetogether.Evenwhenouravatarsweredoingotherthings,weweresendinge-mailsandinstantmessagestoeachother.Ariverofwordsflowedbetweenus.
Iwantedmorethananythingtomeetherintherealworld.Face-to-face.ButIdidn’ttellherthis.Iwascertainshehadstrongfeelingsforme,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd177
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butshealsokeptmeatadistance.NomatterhowmuchIrevealedaboutmyselftoher—andIwounduprevealingjustabouteverything,includingmyrealname—shealwaysadamantlyrefusedtorevealanydetailsaboutherownlife.AllIknewwasthatshewasnineteenandthatshelivedsomewhereinthePacificNorthwest.Thatwasallshewouldtellme.
Theimageofherthatformedinmymindwasthemostobviousone.
Ipicturedherasaphysicalmanifestationofheravatar.Iimaginedherwiththesameface,eyes,hair,andbody.Eventhoughshetoldmerepeatedlythatinrealityshelookedalmostnothinglikeheravatarandthatshewasn’tnearlyasattractiveinperson.
WhenIbegantospendmostofmytimewithArt3mis,AechandIbegantogrowapart.Insteadofhangingoutseveraltimesaweek,wechattedafewtimesamonth.AechknewIwasfallingforArt3mis,buthenevergavemetoomuchgriefaboutit,evenwhenIwouldbailonhimatthelastminutetohangoutwithherinstead.Hewouldjustshrug,tellmetobecareful,andsay,“Isurehopeyou
knowwhatyou’redoing,Z.”
Ididn’t,ofcourse.MywholerelationshipwithArt3miswasindefianceofallcommonsense.ButIcouldn’thelpfallingforher.Somehow,withoutmyrealizingit,myobsessionwithfindingHalliday’sEastereggwasgraduallybeingsupplantedbymyobsessionwithArt3mis.
Eventually,sheandIbegantogoouton“dates,”takingdaytripstoexoticOASISlocalesandexclusivenightspots.Atfirst,Art3misprotested.
ShethoughtIshouldkeepalowprofile,becauseassoonasmyavatarwasspottedinpublic,theSixerswouldknowthattheirattempttokillmehadfailed,andI’dbebackontheirhitlist.ButItoldherInolongercared.IwasalreadyhidingfromtheSixersintherealworld,andIrefusedtocontinuehidingfromthemintheOASIS,too.Besides,Ihadaninety-ninth-levelavatarnow.Ifeltnighinvincible.
MaybeIwasjusttryingtoimpressArt3misbyactingfearless.Ifso,Ithinkitworked.
Westilldisguisedouravatarsbeforewewentout,becauseweknewtherewouldbetabloidheadlinesgaloreifParzivalandArt3misstartedshowingupinpublictogetheronaregularbasis.Buttherewasoneexception.Onenight,shetookmetoseetheRockyHorrorPictureShowinahugestadium-sizedmovietheaterontheplanetTranssexual,wheretheyheldthemosthighlyattendedandlongest-runningweeklyscreeningofthemovieintheOASIS.Thousandsofavatarscametoeveryshow,tositClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd178
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inthestandsandrevelintheaudienceparticipation.Normally,onlylong-standingmembersoftheRockyHorrorFanClubwerepermittedtogetuponstageandhelpactoutthefilminfrontofthegiantmoviescreen,andonlyafterthey’dpassedagruelingauditionprocess.ButArt3misusedherfametopullafewstrings,andsheandIwerebothallowedtojointhecastforthatnight’sshow.Thewholeplanetwasinano-PvPzone,soIwasn’tworriedabout
gettingambushedbytheSixers.ButIdidhaveaseriouscaseofstagefrightwhentheshowbegan.
Art3misplayedanote-perfectColumbia,andIhadthehonorofplayingherundeadloveinterest,Eddie.Ialteredmyavatar’sappearancesothatIlookedexactlylikeMeatLoafdidintherole,butmyperformanceandlip-synchingstillkindasucked.Luckily,theaudiencecutmealotofslack,becauseIwasthefamousgunterParzival,andIwasclearlyhavingablast.
ThatnightwaseasilythemostfunI’deverhadinmylifeuptothatpoint.ItoldArt3missoafterward,andthatwaswhensheleanedoverandkissedmeforthefirsttime.Icouldn’tfeelit,ofcourse.Butitstillsetmyheartracing.
I’dheardalltheclichédwarningsabouttheperilsoffallingforsomeoneyouonlyknewonline,butIignoredthem.IdecidedthatwhoeverArt3misreallywas,Iwasinlovewithher.Icouldfeelit,deepinthesoft,chewycaramelcenterofmybeing.
Andthenonenight,likeacompleteidiot,ItoldherhowIfelt.
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0018
ItwasaFridaynight,andIwasspendinganothersolitaryeveningdoingresearch,workingmywaythrougheveryepisodeofWhizKids,anearly-’80sTVshowaboutateenagehackerwhouseshiscomputerskillstosolvemysteries.I’djustfinishedwatchingtheepisode“DeadlyAccess”
(acrossoverwithSimon&Simon)whenane-mailarrivedinmyinbox.
ItwasfromOgdenMorrow.Thesubjectlineread“WeCanDanceIfWeWantTo.”
Therewasnotextinthebodyofthee-mail.Justafileattachment—aninvitationtooneofthemostexclusivegatheringsintheOASIS:OgdenMorrow’sbirthday
party.Intherealworld,Morrowalmostnevermadepublicappearances,andintheOASIS,hecameoutofhidingonlyonceayear,tohostthisevent.
TheinvitationfeaturedaphotoofMorrow’sworld-famousavatar,theGreatandPowerfulOg.Thegray-beardedwizardwashunchedoveranelaborateDJmixingboard,oneheadphonepressedtohisear,bitinghislowerlipinauditoryecstasyashisfingersscratchedancientvinylonasetofsilverturntables.Hisrecordcrateboreadon’tpanicstickerandananti-Sixerlogo—ayellownumbersixwitharedcircle-and-slashoverit.
Thetextatthebottomread
OgdenMorrow’s’80sDanceParty
incelebrationofhis73rdbirthday!
Tonight—10pmOSTattheDistractedGlobe
ADMITONE
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Iwasflabbergasted.OgdenMorrowhadactuallytakenthetimetoinvitemetohisbirthdayparty.ItfeltlikethegreatesthonorI’deverreceived.
IcalledArt3mis,andsheconfirmedthatshe’dreceivedthesamee-mail.Shesaidshecouldn’tpassupaninvitationfromOghimself,despitetheobviousrisks.So,naturally,ItoldherIwouldmeetherthereattheclub.ItwastheonlywayIcouldavoidlookinglikeatotalwuss.
IknewthatifOghadinvitedthetwoofus,he’dprobablyalsoinvitedtheothermembersoftheHighFive.ButAechprobablywouldn’tshowup,becausehecompetedinagloballytelevisedarenadeathmatcheveryFridaynight.AndShotoandDaitoneverenteredaPvPzoneunlessitwasabsolutelynecessary.
TheDistractedGlobewasafamouszero-gravitydanceclubontheplanetNeonoirinSectorSixteen.OgdenMorrowhadcodedtheplacehimselfdecadesagoandwasstillitssoleowner.I’dnevervisitedtheGlobebefore.Iwasn’tmuchfordancing,orforsocializingwiththetwinked-outwannabe-gunterüberdorkswhowereknowntofrequenttheplace.ButOg’sbirthdaypartywasaspecialevent,andsotheusualclientelewouldbebanishedfortheevening.Tonight,theclubwouldbepackedwithcelebrities—moviestars,musicians,andatleasttwomembersoftheHighFive.
Ispentoveranhourtweakingmyavatar’shairandtryingondifferentskinstoweartotheclub.Ifinallysettledonsomeclassic’80s-eraattire:alightgraysuit,exactlyliketheonePeterWellerworeinBuckarooBanzai,completewitharedbowtie,alongwithapairofvintagewhiteAdidashigh-tops.Ialsoloadedmyinventorywithmybestsuitofbodyarmorandalargeamountofweaponry.OneofthereasonstheGlobewassuchahip,exclusiveclubwasbecauseitwaslocatedinaPvPzone,onewherebothmagicandtechnologyfunctioned.Soitwasextremelydangeroustogothere.Especiallyforafamousgunterlikeme.
Therewerehundredsofcyberpunk-themedworldsspreadthroughouttheOASIS,butNeonoirwasoneofthelargestandoldest.Seenfromorbit,theplanetwasashinyonyxmarblecoveredinoverlappingspiderwebsofpulsatinglight.ItwasalwaysnightonNeonoir,theworldover,anditssurfacewasanuninterruptedgridofinterconnectedcitiespackedwithimpossiblylargeskyscrapers.Itsskieswerefilledwithacontinuousstreamofflyingvehicleswhirringthroughtheverticalcityscapes,andthestreetsbelowteemedwithleather-cladNPCsandmirror-shadedava-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd181
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tars,allsportinghigh-techweaponryandsubcutaneousimplantsastheyspoutedcity-speakstraightoutofNeuromancer.
TheDistractedGlobewaslocatedatthewestern-hemisphereintersectionoftheBoulevardandtheAvenue,twobrightlylitstreetsthatstretchedcompletelyaroundtheplanetalongitsequatorandprimeme-ridian.Theclubitselfwasa
massivecobaltbluesphere,threekilometersindiameter,floatingthirtymetersofftheground.Afloatingcrystalstaircaseleduptotheclub’sonlyentrance,acircularopeningatthebottomofthesphere.
ImadeabigentrancewhenIarrivedinmyflyingDeLorean,whichI’dobtainedbycompletingaBacktotheFuturequestontheplanetZemeckis.
TheDeLoreancameoutfittedwitha(nonfunctioning)fluxcapacitor,butI’dmadeseveraladditionstoitsequipmentandappearance.First,I’dinstalledanartificiallyintelligentonboardcomputernamedKITT(purchasedinanonlineauction)intothedashboard,alongwithamatchingredKnightRiderscannerjustabovetheDeLorean’sgrill.ThenI’doutfittedthecarwithanoscillationoverthruster,adevicethatallowedittotravelthroughsolidmatter.Finally,tocompletemy’80ssuper-vehicletheme,I’dslappedaGhostbusterslogooneachoftheDeLorean’sgull-wingdoors,thenaddedpersonalizedplatesthatreadecto-88.
I’dhaditonlyafewweeksnow,butmytime-traveling,GhostBust-ing,KnightRiding,matter-penetratingDeLoreanhadalreadybecomemyavatar’strademark.
IknewthatleavingmysweetrideparkedinaPvPzonewasanopeninvitationforsomemorontotrytoboostit.TheDeLoreanhadseveralantitheftsystemsinstalled,andtheignitionsystemwasbooby-trappedMaxRockatansky–stylesothatifanyotheravatartriedtostartthecar,theplutoniumchamberwoulddetonateinasmallthermonuclearexplosion.Butkeepingmycarsafewouldn’tbeaproblemhereonNeonoir.AssoonasIclimbedoutoftheDeLoreanIcastaShrinkspellonit,instantlyreducingittothesizeofaMatchboxcar.ThenIputtheDeLoreaninmypocket.Magiczoneshadtheiradvantages.
Thousandsofavatarswerepackedupagainstthevelvetropeforcefieldsthatkepteveryonewithoutaninvitationatbay.AsIwalkedtowardtheentrance,thecrowdbombardedmewithamixofinsults,autographrequests,deaththreats,andtearfuldeclarationsofundyinglove.Ihadmybodyshieldactivated,butsurprisingly,noonetookashotatme.IflashedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd182
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thecyborgdoormanmyinvitation,thenmountedthelongcrystalstaircaseleadingupintotheclub.
EnteringtheDistractedGlobewasmorethanalittledisorienting.Theinsideofthegiantspherewascompletelyhollow,anditscurvedinteriorsurfaceservedastheclub’sbarandloungearea.Themomentyoupassedthroughtheentrance,thelawsofgravitychanged.Nomatterwhereyouwalked,youravatar’sfeetalwaysadheredtotheinteriorofthesphere,soyoucouldwalkinastraightline,uptothe“top”oftheclub,thenbackdowntheotherside,endinguprightbackwhereyoustarted.Thehugeopenspaceinthecenterofthesphereservedastheclub’szero-gravity
“dancefloor.”Youreacheditsimplybyjumpingofftheground,likeSupermantakingflight,andthenswimmingthroughtheair,intothesphericalzero-g“groovezone.”
AsIsteppedthroughtheentrance,Iglancedup—orinthedirectionthatwascurrently“up”tomeatthemoment—andtookalonglookaround.Theplacewaspacked.Hundredsofavatarsmilledaroundlikeantscrawlingaroundtheinsideofagiantballoon.Otherswerealreadyoutonthedancefloor—spinning,flying,twisting,andtumblingintimewiththemusic,whichthumpedoutoffloatingsphericalspeakersthatdriftedthroughouttheclub.
Inthemiddleofallthedancers,alargeclearbubblewassuspendedinspace,attheabsolutecenteroftheclub.Thiswasthe“booth”wheretheDJstood,surroundedbyturntables,mixers,decks,anddials.AtthecenterofallthatgearwastheopeningDJ,R2-D2,hardatwork,usinghisvariousroboticarmstoworktheturntables.Irecognizedthetunehewasplaying:the’88remixofNewOrder’s“BlueMonday,”withalotofStarWarsdroidsoundsamplesmixedin.
AsImademywaytothenearestbar,theavatarsIpassedallstoppedtostareandpointinmydirection.Ididn’tpaythemmuchnotice,becauseIwasbusyscanningtheclubforArt3mis.
WhenIreachedthebar,IorderedaPan-GalacticGargleBlasterfromthefemaleKlingonbartenderanddownedhalfofit.ThenIgrinnedasR2cuedupanotherclassic’80stune.“‘UnionoftheSnake,’”Irecited,mostlyoutofhabit.“DuranDuran.Nineteeneighty-three.”
“Notbad,ace,”saidafamiliarvoice,speakingjustloudenoughtobeheardoverthemusic.IturnedtoseeArt3misstandingbehindme.Shewaswearingeveningattire:agunmetalbluedressthatlookedlikeitwasClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd183
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spray-paintedon.Heravatar’sdarkhairwasstyledinapageboycut,perfectlyframinghergorgeousface.Shelookeddevastating.
Sheshoutedatthebarkeep.“Glenmorangie.Ontherocks.”
Ismiledtomyself.ConnorMacLeod’sfavoritedrink.Man,didIlovethisgirl.
Shewinkedatmeasherdrinkappeared.Thensheclinkedherglassagainstmineanddowneditscontentsinoneswallow.Thechatteringoftheavatarsaroundusgrewinvolume.WordthatParzivalandArt3miswerehere,chattingeachotherupatthebar,wasalreadyspreadingthroughtheentireclub.
Art3misglancedupatthedancefloor,thenbackatme.“Sohowaboutit,Percy?”shesaid.“Feellikecuttingarug?”
Iscowled.“Notifyoukeepcallingme‘Percy.’”
Shelaughed.Justthen,thecurrentsongended,andtheclubgrewsilent.Alleyesturnedupward,towardtheDJbooth,whereR2-D2wascurrentlydissolvinginashoweroflight,likesomeone“beamingout”inanoriginalStarTrekepisode.Thenahugecheerwentupasafamiliargray-hairedavatarbeamedin,appearingbehindtheturntables.ItwasOg.
Hundredsofvidfeedwindowsmaterializedintheair,allovertheclub.
Eachdisplayedaliveclose-upimageofOginthebooth,sothateveryonecouldseehisavatarclearly.Theoldwizardwaswearingbaggyjeans,san-dals,andafadedStarTrek:TheNextGenerationT-shirt.Hewavedtotheassembled,thencueduphisfirsttrack,adanceremixof“RebelYell”byBillyIdol.
Acheersweptacrossthedancefloor.
“Ilovethissong!”Art3misshouted.Hereyesdarteduptothedancefloor.Ilookedatheruncertainly.“What’swrong?”shesaidwithmocksympathy.“Can’ttheboydance?”
Sheabruptlylockedintothebeat,bobbingherhead,gyratingherhips.
Thenshepushedofffromthefloorwithbothfeetandbegantofloatupward,driftingtowardthegroovezone.Istaredupather,temporarilyfrozen,musteringmycourage.
“Allright,”Imutteredtomyself.“Whatthehell.”
Ibentmykneesandpushedoffhardfromthefloor.Myavatartookflight,driftingupwardandslidingalongsideArt3mis.Theavatarswhowerealreadyonthedancefloormovedasidetoclearapathforus,atunnelleadingtothecenterofthedancefloor.IcouldseeOghoveringinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd184
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hisbubble,justashortdistanceaboveus.Hewasspinningaroundlikeadervish,remixingthesongontheflywhilesimultaneouslyadjustingthegravityvortexofthedancefloor,sothathewasactuallyspinningtheclubitself,likeanancientvinyldisc.
Art3miswinkedatme,andthenherlegsmeltedtogethertoformamermaid’stail.Sheflappedhernewtailfinonceandshotaheadofme,herbodyundulatingandthrustingintimewiththemachine-gunbeatassheswamthroughtheair.Thenshespunbackaroundtofaceme,suspendedandfloating,smilingandholdingoutherhand,beckoningmetojoinher.
Herhairfloatedinahaloaroundherhead,likeshewasunderwater.
WhenIreachedher,shetookmyhand.Asshedid,hermermaidtailvanished
andherlegsreappeared,whirlingandscissoringtothebeat.
Nottrustingmyinstinctsanyfurther,Iloadedupapieceofhigh-endavatardancesoftwarecalledTravoltra,whichI’ddownloadedandtestedearlierthatevening.TheprogramtookcontrolofParzival’smovements,synchingthemupwiththemusic,andallfourofmylimbsweretransformedintoundulatingcosinewaves.Justlikethat,Ibecameadancingfool.
Art3mis’seyeslitupinsurpriseanddelight,andshebegantomirrormymovements,thetwoofusorbitingeachotherlikeacceleratedelectrons.ThenArt3misbeganshape-shifting.
Heravatarlostitshumanformanddissolvedintoapulsingamorphousblobthatchangeditssizeandcolorinsynchwiththemusic.Iselectedthemirrorpartneroptiononmydancesoftwareandbegantodothesame.
Myavatar’slimbsandtorsobegantoflowandspinliketaffy,encirclingArt3mis,whilestrangecolorpatternsflowedandshiftedacrossmyskin.
IlookedlikePlasticMan,ifheweretrippingoutofhismindonLSD.
Theneveryoneelseonthedanceflooralsobegantoshape-shift,meltingintoprismaticblobsoflight.Soon,thecenteroftheclublookedlikesomeotherworldlylavalamp.
Whenthesongended,Ogtookabow,thenqueuedupaslowsong.“TimeAfterTime”byCyndiLauper.Allaroundus,avatarsbegantopairup.
IgaveArt3misacourtlybowandstretchedoutmyhand.Shesmiledandtookit.Ipulledhercloseandwebegantodrifttogether.Ogsetthedancefloor’sgravityonacounterclockwisespin,makingallofouravatarsslowlyrotatearoundtheclub’sinvisiblecentralaxis,likemotesofdustfloatinginsideasnowglobe.
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Andthen,beforeIcouldstopmyself,thewordsjustcameout.
“I’minlovewithyou,Arty.”
Shedidn’trespondatfirst.Shejustlookedatmeinshockasouravatarscontinuedtodriftinorbitaroundeachother,movingonautopilot.Thensheswitchedtoaprivatevoicechannel,sonoonecouldeavesdroponourconversation.
“Youaren’tinlovewithme,Z,”shesaid.“Youdon’tevenknowme.”
“YesIdo,”Iinsisted.“IknowyoubetterthanI’veeverknownanyoneinmyentirelife.”
“YouonlyknowwhatIwantyoutoknow.YouonlyseewhatIwantyoutosee.”Sheplacedahandonherchest.“Thisisn’tmyrealbody,Wade.Ormyrealface.”
“Idon’tcare!I’minlovewithyourmind—withthepersonyouare.Icouldn’tcarelessaboutthepackaging.”
“You’rejustsayingthat,”shesaid.Therewasanunsteadinessinhervoice.“Trustme.IfIeverletyouseemeinperson,youwouldberepulsed.”
“Whydoyoualwayssaythat?”
“BecauseI’mhideouslydeformed.OrI’maparaplegic.OrI’mactuallysixty-threeyearsold.Takeyourpick.”
“Idon’tcareifyou’reallthreeofthosethings.TellmewheretomeetyouandI’llproveit.I’llgetonaplanerightnowandflytowhereveryouare.YouknowIwill.”
Sheshookherhead.“Youdon’tliveintherealworld,Z.Fromwhatyou’vetoldme,Idon’tthinkyoueverhave.You’relikeme.Youliveinsidethisillusion.”Shemotionedtoourvirtualsurroundings.“Youcan’tpossiblyknowwhatrealloveis.”
“Don’tsaythat!”Iwasstartingtocryanddidn’tbotherhidingitfromher.“IsitbecauseItoldyouI’veneverhadarealgirlfriend?AndthatI’mavirgin?
Because—”
“Ofcoursenot,”shesaid.“Thatisn’twhatthisisabout.Atall.”
“Thenwhatisitabout?Tellme.Please.”
“TheHunt.Youknowthat.We’vebothbeenneglectingourqueststohangoutwitheachother.WeshouldbefocusedonfindingtheJadeKeyrightnow.Youcanbetthat’swhatSorrentoandtheSixersaredoing.Andeveryoneelse.”
“Tohellwithourcompetition!Andtheegg!”Ishouted.“Didn’tyouhearwhatIjustsaid?I’minlovewithyou!AndIwanttobewithyou.Morethananything.”
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Shejuststaredatme.Orrather,heravatarstaredblanklybackatmyavatar.Thenshesaid,“I’msorry,Z.Thisisallmyfault.Iletthisgetwayoutofhand.Ithastostop.”
“Whatdoyoumean?Whathastostop?”
“Ithinkweshouldtakeabreak.Stopspendingsomuchtimetogether.”
IfeltlikeI’dbeenpunchedinthethroat.“Areyoubreakingupwithme?”
“No,Z,”shesaidfirmly.“Iamnotbreakingupwithyou.Thatwouldbeimpossible,becausewearenottogether.”Therewassuddenlyvenominhervoice.“We’veneverevenmet!”
“Sothen...you’rejustgoingto...stoptalkingtome?”
“Yes.Ithinkthatwouldbeforthebest.”
“Forhowlong?”
“UntiltheHuntisover.”
“But,Arty...Thatcouldtakeyears.”
“Irealizethat.AndI’msorry.Butthisishowithastobe.”
“Sowinningthatmoneyismoreimportanttoyouthanme?”
“It’snotaboutthemoney.It’saboutwhatIcoulddowithit.”
“Right.Savingtheworld.You’resofuckingnoble.”
“Don’tbeajerk,”shesaid.“I’vebeensearchingfortheeggforoverfiveyears.Sohaveyou.Nowwe’recloserthanevertofindingit.Ican’tjustthrowmychanceaway.”
“I’mnotaskingyouto.”
“Yes,youare.Evenifyoudon’trealizeit.”
TheCyndiLaupersongendedandOgqueuedupanotherdancetrack—
“JamesBrownIsDead”byL.A.Style.Thecluberuptedinapplause.
Ifeltlikealargewoodenstakehadbeendrivenintomychest.
Art3miswasabouttosaysomethingmore—good-bye,Ithink—whenweheardathunderousboomdirectlyupaboveus.Atfirst,IthoughtitwasOg,train-wreckingintoanewdancetrack.ButthenIlookedupandsawthelargechunksofrubbletumblingathighspeedontothedancefloorasavatarsscatteredtogetoutoftheway.Agapingholehadjustbeenblastedintheroofoftheclub,nearthetopoftheglobe.AndasmallarmyofSixerswasnowpouringthroughit,swoopingintotheclubonjetpacks,firingblasterpistolsastheycame.
Totalchaosbrokeout.Halfoftheavatarsintheclubswarmedtowardtheexit,whiletheotherhalfdrewweaponsorbegantocastspells,firinglaserbolts,bullets,andfireballsbackattheinvadingSixers.Thereweremorethanahundredofthem,allarmedtotheteeth.
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Icouldn’tbelievetheSixers’bravado.Whywouldtheybedumbenoughtoattackaroomfullofhigh-levelgunters,ontheirownturf?Theymightkillafewofus,buttheyweregoingtolosesomeoralloftheirownavatarsintheprocess.Andforwhat?
ThenIrealizedthatmostoftheSixers’incomingfireseemedtobedirectedatmeandArt3mis.Theywereheretokillthetwoofus.
ThenewsthatArt3misandIwereheremusthavealreadyhitthenewsfeeds.AndwhenSorrentohadlearnedthatthetoptwoguntersontheScoreboardwerehangingoutinanunshieldedPvPzone,hemusthavedecidedthatitwastoojuicyatargettopassup.ThiswastheSixers’chancetotakeouttheirtwobiggestcompetitorsinoneshot.Itwasworthwastingahundredorsooftheirhighest-levelavatars.
Iknewmyownrecklessnesshadbroughtthemdownonus.Icursedmyselfforbeingsofoolish.ThenIdrewmyblastersandbegantounloadthemattheclusterofSixersnearesttomewhilealsodoingmybesttododgetheirincomingfire.IglancedoveratArt3misjustintimetoseeherincinerateadozenSixersinthespaceoffiveseconds,usingballsofblueplasmathatshehurledoutofherpalms,whileignoringthesteadystreamoflaserboltsandmagicmissilesricochetingoffhertransparentbodyshield.Iwastakingheavyfiretoo.Sofarmyownbodyshieldwasholdingup,butitwasn’tgoingtolastmuchlonger.Failurewarningswerealreadyflashingonmydisplay,andmyhit-pointcounterwasstartingtoplummet.
Inseconds,thesituationescalatedintothelargestconfrontationI’deverwitnessed.AnditalreadyseemedclearthatArt3misandIweregoingtobeonthelosingside.
Inoticedthatthemusicstillhadn’tstopped.
IglancedupattheDJboothjustintimetoseeitcrackopenastheGreatandPowerfulOgemergedfromwithin.Helookedreally,reallyannoyed.
“Youjerksthinkyoucancrashmybirthdayparty?”heshouted.Hisavatarwasstillwearingamic,sohiswordsblastedovertheclub’sspeakerarray,reverberatinglikethevoiceofGod.ThemeleeseemedtohaltforasplitsecondasalleyesturnedtolookatOg,whowasnowfloatingatthecenterofthedancefloor.HestretchedouthisarmsasheturnedtofacetheonslaughtofSixers.
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branchingoutinalldirections.EachtinestruckadifferentSixeravatarinthechestwhilesomehowarcingharmlesslyaroundeveryoneelse.
Inamillisecond,everysingleSixerintheclubwascompletelyvaporized.Theiravatarsfrozeandglowedbrightredforafewseconds,thensimplyvanished.
Iwasawestruck.ItwasthemostincredibledisplayofpowerbyanavatarI’deverseen.
“Nobodybustsintomyjointuninvited!”Ogshouted,hisvoiceechoingthroughthenow-silentclub.Theremainingavatars(theoneswhohadn’tfledtheclubinterrororbeenkilledinthebriefbattle)letoutavictoriouscheer.OgflewbackintotheDJbooth,whichcloseduparoundhimlikeatransparentcocoon.“Let’sgetthispartygoingagain,shallwe?”hesaid,droppinganeedleonatechnoremixof“Atomic”byBlondie.Ittookamomentfortheshocktowearoff,buttheneveryonestartedtodanceagain.
IlookedaroundforArt3mis,butsheseemedtohavevanished.ThenIspottedheravatarflyingoutofthenewexittheSixerattackhadcreated.
Shestoppedandhoveredoutsideamoment,justlongenoughtoglancebackatme.
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Mycomputerwokemeupjustbeforesundown,andIbeganmydailyritual.
“I’mup!”Ishoutedatthedarkness.IntheweekssinceArt3mishaddumpedme,I’dhadahardtimegettingoutofbedinthemorning.SoI’ddisabledmyalarm’ssnoozefeatureandinstructedthecomputertoblast
“WakeMeUpBeforeYouGo-Go”byWham!Iloathedthatsongwitheveryfiberofmybeing,andgettingupwastheonlywaytosilenceit.Itwasn’tthemostpleasantwaytostartmyday,butitgotmemoving.
Thesongcutoff,andmyhapticchairreshapedandreorienteditself,transformingfromabedbackintoitschairconfiguration,liftingmeintoasittingpositionasitdidso.Thecomputerbegantobringthelightsupslowly,allowingmyeyestoadjust.Nooutsidelighteverpenetratedmyapartment.ThesinglewindowhadonceprovidedaviewoftheColumbusskyline,butI’dspray-painteditcompletelyblackafewdaysafterImovedin.I’ddecidedthateverythingoutsidethewindowwasadistractionfrommyquest,soIdidn’tneedtowastetimestaringatit.Ididn’twanttoheartheoutsideworld,either,butIhadn’tbeenabletoimproveupontheapartment’sexistingsoundproofing.SoIhadtolivewiththemuffledsoundsofwindandrain,andofstreetandairtraffic.Eventhesecouldbeadistraction.Attimes,I’dslipintoakindoftrance,sittingwithmyeyesclosed,oblivioustothepassageoftime,listeningtothesoundsoftheworldoutsidemyroom.
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securityandconvenience.First,Ireplacedtheflimsydoorwithanewairtight
armor-platedvacuum-sealedWarDoor.WheneverIneededsomething—food,toiletpaper,newgear—Iordereditonline,andsomeonebroughtitrighttomydoor.Deliveriesworkedlikethis:First,thescannermountedoutsideinthehallwaywouldverifythedeliveryperson’sidentityandmycomputerwouldconfirmtheyweredeliveringsomethingI’dactuallyordered.Thentheouterdoorwouldunlockitselfandslideopen,revealingasteel-reinforcedairlockaboutthesizeofashowerstall.
Thedeliverypersonwouldplacetheparcel,pizza,orwhateverinsidetheairlockandstepback.Theouterdoorwouldhissshutandrelockitself;thenthepackagewouldbescanned,X-rayed,andanalyzedeightwaysfromWednesday.Itscontentswouldbeverifiedanddeliveryconfirmationwouldbesent.ThenIwouldunlockandopentheinnerdoorandreceivemygoods.Capitalismwouldinchforward,withoutmyactuallyhavingtointeractface-to-facewithanotherhumanbeing.WhichwasexactlyhowIpreferredit,thankyou.
Theroomitselfwasn’tmuchtolookat,whichwasfine,becauseIspentaslittletimelookingatitaspossible.Itwasbasicallyacube,abouttenmeterslongoneachside.Amodularshowerandtoiletunitwereembeddedinonewall,oppositethesmallergonomickitchen.I’dneveractuallyusedthekitchentocookanything.Mymealswereallfrozenordelivered.
MicrowavebrownieswereascloseasIevergottocooking.
TherestoftheroomwasdominatedbymyOASISimmersionrig.I’dinvestedeverysparecentIhadinit.Newer,faster,ormoreversatilecomponentswerealwaysbeingreleased,soIwasconstantlyspendinglargechunksofmymeagerincomeonupgrades.
Thecrownjewelinmyrigwas,ofcourse,mycustomizedOASISconsole.Thecomputerthatpoweredmyworld.I’dbuiltitmyself,piecebypiece,insideamoddedmirror-blackOdinwarespherechassis.Ithadanewoverclockedprocessorthatwassofastitscycle-timeborderedonpre-cognition.AndtheinternalharddrivehadenoughstoragespacetoholdthreedigitizedcopiesofEverythinginExistence.
IspentthemajorityofmytimeinmyShapticTechnologiesHC5000
fullyadjustablehapticchair.Itwassuspendedbytwojointedroboticarmsanchoredtomyapartment’swallsandceiling.Thesearmscouldrotatethechair
onallfouraxes,sowhenIwasstrappedintoit,theunitcouldflip,spin,orshakemybodytocreatethesensationthatIwasfalling,fly-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd191
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ing,orsittingbehindthewheelofanuclear-poweredrocketsledhurtlingatMach2throughacanyononthefourthmoonofAltairVI.
ThechairworkedinconjunctionwithmyShapticBootsuit,afull-bodyhapticfeedbacksuit.ItcoveredeveryinchofmybodyfromtheneckdownandhaddiscreetopeningssoIcouldrelievemyselfwithoutremovingtheentirething.Theoutsideofthesuitwascoveredwithanelaborateexoskeleton,anetworkofartificialtendonsandjointsthatcouldbothsenseandinhibitmymovements.Builtintotheinsideofthesuitwasaweblikenetworkofminiatureactuatorsthatmadecontactwithmyskineveryfewcentimeters.Thesecouldbeactivatedinsmallorlargegroupsforthepurposeoftactilesimulation—tomakemyskinfeelthingsthatweren’treallythere.Theycouldconvincinglysimulatethesensationofatapontheshoulder,akicktotheshin,oragunshotinthechest.(Built-insafetysoftwarepreventedmyrigfromactuallycausingmeanyphysicalharm,soasimulatedgunshotactuallyfeltmorelikeaweakpunch.)IhadanidenticalbackupsuithangingintheMoshWashcleaningunitinthecorneroftheroom.Thesetwohapticsuitsmadeupmyentirewardrobe.
Myoldstreetclotheswereburiedsomewhereinthecloset,collectingdust.
Onmyhands,Iworeapairofstate-of-the-artOkagamiIdleHandshapticdatagloves.Specialtactilefeedbackpadscoveredbothpalms,allowingtheglovestocreatetheillusionthatIwastouchingobjectsandsurfacesthatdidn’tactuallyexist.
Myvisorwasabrand-newpairofDinatroRLR-7800WreckSpex,featuringatop-of-the-linevirtualretinaldisplay.ThevisordrewtheOASIS
directlyontomyretinas,atthehighestframerateandresolutionpercep-tibletothehumaneye.Therealworldlookedwashed-outandblurrybycomparison.
TheRLR-7800wasanot-yet-available-to-the-plebian-massesprototype,butIhadanendorsementdealwithDinatro,sotheysentmefreegear(shippedtomethroughaseriesofremailingservices,whichIusedtomaintainmyanonymity).
MyAboundSoundaudiosystemconsistedofanarrayofultrathinspeakersmountedontheapartment’swalls,floor,andceiling,providing360degreesofperfectspatialpin-dropsoundreproduction.AndtheMjolnursubwooferwaspowerfulenoughtomakemybackteethvibrate.
TheOlfatrixsmelltowerinthecornerwascapableofgeneratingovertwothousanddiscernibleodors.Arosegarden,saltyoceanwind,burningcordite—thetowercouldconvincinglyre-createthemall.ItalsodoubledClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd192
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asanindustrial-strengthairconditioner/purifier,whichwasprimarilywhatIuseditfor.Alotofjokerslikedtocodereallyhorrificsmellsintotheirsimulations,justtomesswithpeoplewhoownedsmelltowers,soIusuallylefttheodorgeneratordisabled,unlessIwasinapartoftheOASISwhereIthoughtbeingabletosmellmysurroundingsmightproveuseful.
Onthefloor,directlyunderneathmysuspendedhapticchair,wasmyOkagamiRunaroundomnidirectionaltreadmill.(“Nomatterwhereyougo,thereyouare”wasthemanufacturer’sslogan.)Thetreadmillwasabouttwometerssquareandsixcentimetersthick.Whenitwasactivated,Icouldrunattopspeedinanydirectionandneverreachtheedgeoftheplatform.IfIchangeddirection,thetreadmillwouldsenseit,anditsrollingsurfacewouldchangedirectiontomatchme,alwayskeepingmybodynearthecenterofitsplatform.Thismodelwasalsoequippedwithbuilt-inliftsandanamorphoussurface,sothatitcouldsimulatewalkingupinclinesandstaircases.
YoucouldalsopurchaseanACHD(anatomicallycorrecthapticdoll),ifyouwantedtohavemore“intimate”encountersinsidetheOASIS.
ACHDscameinmale,female,anddual-sexmodels,andwereavailablewitha
widearrayofoptions.Realisticlatexskin.Servomotor-drivenen-doskeletons.Simulatedmusculature.Andalloftheattendantappendagesandorificesonewouldimagine.
Drivenbyloneliness,curiosity,andragingteenhormones,I’dpurchasedamidrangeACHD,theShapticÜberBetty,afewweeksafterArt3misstoppedspeakingtome.Afterspendingseveralhighlyunproductivedaysinsideastand-alonebrothelsimulationcalledthePlea-suredome,I’dgottenridofthedoll,outofacombinationofshameandself-preservation.I’dwastedthousandsofcredits,missedawholeweekofwork,andwasonthevergeofcompletelyabandoningmyquestfortheeggwhenIconfrontedthegrimrealizationthatvirtualsex,nomatterhowrealistic,wasreallynothingbutglorified,computer-assistedmasturbation.
Attheendoftheday,Iwasstillavirgin,allaloneinadarkroom,hump-ingalubed-uprobot.SoIgotridoftheACHDandwentbacktospankingthemonkeytheold-fashionedway.
Ifeltnoshameaboutmasturbating.ThankstoAnorak’sAlmanac,Inowthoughtofitasanormalbodilyfunction,asnecessaryandnaturalassleepingoreating.
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AA241:87—Iwouldarguethatmasturbationisthehumananimal’smostimportantadaptation.Theverycornerstoneofourtechnologicalcivilization.Ourhandsevolvedtogriptools,allright—includingourown.Yousee,thinkers,inventors,andscientistsareusuallygeeks,andgeekshaveahardertimegettinglaidthananyone.Withoutthebuilt-insexualreleasevalveprovidedbymasturbation,it’sdoubtfulthatearlyhumanswouldhaveevermasteredthesecretsoffireordiscoveredthewheel.AndyoucanbetthatGalileo,Newton,andEinsteinneverwouldhavemadetheirdiscoveriesiftheyhadn’tfirstbeenabletocleartheirheadsbyslappingthesalami(or“knockingafewprotonsofftheoldhydrogenatom”).ThesamegoesforMarieCurie.Beforeshediscoveredradium,youcanbecertainshefirstdiscoveredthelittlemaninthecanoe.
Itwasn’toneofHalliday’smorepopulartheories,butIlikedit.
AsIshuffledovertothetoilet,alargeflat-screenmonitormountedonthewallswitchedon,andthesmilingfaceofMax,mysystemagentsoftware,appearedonthescreen.I’dprogrammedMaxtostartupafewminutesafterIturnedonthelights,soIcouldwakeupalittlebitbeforehestartedjabberingtome.
“G-g-goodmorning,Wade!”Maxstutteredcheerily.“Riseandsh-sh-shine!”
Runningsystemagentsoftwarewasalittlelikehavingavirtualpersonalassistant—onethatalsofunctionedasavoice-activatedinterfacewithyourcomputer.Systemagentsoftwarewashighlyconfigurable,withhundredsofpreprogrammedpersonalitiestochoosefrom.I’dprogrammedminetolook,sound,andbehavelikeMaxHeadroom,the(ostensibly)computer-generatedstarofalate-’80stalkshow,agroundbreakingcyberpunkTVseries,andaslewofCokecommercials.
“Goodmorning,Max,”Irepliedgroggily.
“Ithinkyoumeangoodevening,Rumpelstiltskin.It’s7:18p.m.,OASIS
Sta-sta-standardTime,Wednesday,Decemberthirtieth.”Maxwasprogrammedtospeakwithaslightelectronicstutter.Inthemid-’80s,whenthecharacterofMaxHeadroomwascreated,computersweren’tactuallypowerfulenoughtogenerateaphotorealistichumanfigure,soMaxhadbeenportrayedbyanactor(thebrilliantMattFrewer)whoworealotofrubbermakeuptomakehimlookcomputer-generated.ButtheversionofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd194
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Maxnowsmilingatmeonthemonitorwaspuresoftware,withthebestsimulatedAIandvoice-recognitionsubroutinesmoneycouldbuy.
I’dbeenrunningahighlycustomizedversionofMaxHeadroomv3.4.1
forafewweeksnow.Beforethat,mysystemagentsoftwarehadbeenmodeledaftertheactressErinGray(ofBuckRogersandSilverSpoonsfame).
Butshe’dprovedtobewaytoodistracting,soI’dswitchedtoMax.Hewasannoyingattimes,buthealsocrackedmeup.Hedidaprettydecentjobofkeepingmefromfeelinglonesome,too.
AsIstumbledintothebathroommoduleandemptiedmybladder,Maxcontinuedtoaddressmefromasmallmonitormountedabovethemirror.“Uh-oh!Itappearsyou’vesp-sp-sprungaleak!”hesaid.
“Getanewjoke,”Isaid.“AnynewsIshouldknowabout?”
“Justtheusual.Wars,rioting,famine.Nothingthatwouldinterestyou.”
“Anymessages?”
Herolledhiseyes.“Afew.Buttoansweryourrealquestion,no.Art3misstillhasn’tcalledorwrittenyouback,loverboy.”
“I’vewarnedyou.Don’tcallmethat,Max.You’rebeggingtobedeleted.”
“Touchy,touchy.Honestly,Wade.Whendidyougetsos-s-sensitive?”
“I’lleraseyou,Max.Imeanit.KeepitupandI’llswitchbacktoWilmaDeering.OrI’lltryoutthedisembodiedvoiceofMajelBarrett.”
Maxmadeapoutyfaceandspunaroundtofacetheshiftingdigitalwallpaperbehindhim—currentlyapatternofmulticoloredvectorlines.
Maxwasalwayslikethis.Givingmegriefwaspartofhispreprogrammedpersonality.Iactuallysortofenjoyedit,becauseitremindedmeofhangingoutwithAech.AndIreallymissedhangingoutwithAech.Alot.
Mygazedroppedtothebathroommirror,butIdidn’tmuchlikewhatIsawthere,soIclosedmyeyesuntilIfinishedurinating.Iwondered(notforthefirsttime)whyIhadn’tpaintedthemirrorblacktoo,whenI’ddonethewindow.
ThehourorsoafterIwokeupwasmyleastfavoritepartofeachday,becauseIspentitintherealworld.ThiswaswhenIdealtwiththetediousbusinessof
cleaningandexercisingmyphysicalbody.Ihatedthispartofthedaybecauseeverythingaboutitcontradictedmyotherlife.Myreallife,insidetheOASIS.Thesightofmytinyone-roomapartment,myimmersionrig,ormyreflectioninthemirror—theyallservedasaharshreminderthattheworldIspentmydaysinwasnot,infact,therealone.
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“Retractchair,”IsaidasIsteppedoutofthebathroom.Thehapticchairinstantlyflatteneditselfagain,thenretractedsothatitwasflushagainstthewall,clearingalargeemptyspaceinthecenteroftheroom.IpulledonmyvisorandloadeduptheGym,astand-alonesimulation.
NowIwasstandinginalargemodernfitnesscenterlinedwithexerciseequipmentandweightmachines,allofwhichcouldbeperfectlysimulatedbymyhapticsuit.Ibeganmydailyworkout.Sit-ups,stomachcrunches,push-ups,aerobics,weighttraining.Occasionally,Maxwouldshoutwordsofencouragement.“Getthoselegsup,yous-s-sissy!Feeltheburn!”
IusuallygotalittleexercisewhileloggedintotheOASIS,byengaginginphysicalcombatorrunningaroundthevirtuallandscapeonmytreadmill.ButIspentthevastmajorityofmytimesittinginmyhapticchair,gettingalmostnoexerciseatall.IalsohadahabitofovereatingwhenIwasdepressedorfrustrated,whichwasmostofthetime.Asaresult,I’dgraduallystartedtoputonsomeextrapounds.Iwasn’tinthebestshapetobeginwith,soIquicklyreachedapointwhereIcouldnolongerfitcomfortablyinmyhapticchairorsqueezeintomyXLhapticsuit.Soon,Iwouldneedtobuyanewrig,withcomponentsfromtheHuskyline.
IknewthatifIdidn’tgetmyweightundercontrol,IwouldprobablydieofslothbeforeIfoundtheegg.Icouldn’tletthathappen.SoImadeasnapdecisionandenabledthevoluntaryOASISfitnesslockoutsoftwareonmyrig.I’dregretteditalmostimmediately.
Fromthenon,mycomputermonitoredmyvitalsignsandkepttrackofexactlyhowmanycaloriesIburnedduringthecourseofeachday.IfIdidn’tmeetmydailyexerciserequirements,thesystempreventedmefromloggingintomyOASISaccount.ThismeantthatIcouldn’tgotowork,continuemyquest,or,ineffect,livemylife.Oncethelockoutwasengaged,youcouldn’tdisableitfortwomonths.AndthesoftwarewasboundtomyOASISaccount,soIcouldn’tjustbuyanewcomputerorgorentaboothinsomepublicOASIScafé.IfIwantedtologin,Ihadnochoicebuttoexercisefirst.ThisprovedtobetheonlymotivationIneeded.
Thelockoutsoftwarealsomonitoredmydietaryintake.EachdayIwasallowedtoselectmealsfromapresetmenuofhealthy,low-caloriefoods.
Thesoftwarewouldorderthefoodformeonlineanditwouldbedeliveredtomydoor.SinceIneverleftmyapartment,itwaseasyfortheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd196
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programtokeeptrackofeverythingIate.IfIorderedadditionalfoodonmyown,itwouldincreasetheamountofexerciseIhadtodoeachday,tooffsetmyadditionalcalorieintake.Thiswassomesadisticsoftware.
Butitworked.Thepoundsbegantomeltoff,andafterafewmonths,Iwasinnear-perfecthealth.ForthefirsttimeinmylifeIhadaflatstomach,andmuscles.Ialsohadtwicetheenergy,andIgotsickalotlessfrequently.WhenthetwomonthsendedandIwasfinallygiventheoptiontodisablethefitnesslockout,Idecidedtokeepitinplace.Now,exercisingwasapartofmydailyritual.
OnceIfinishedwithmyweighttraining,Isteppedontomytreadmill.
“Beginmorningrun,”IsaidtoMax.“Bifrosttrack.”
Thevirtualgymvanished.NowIwasstandingonasemitransparentrunningtrack,acurvedloopingribbonsuspendedinastarrynebulae.
Giantringedplanetsandmulticoloredmoonsweresuspendedinspaceallaroundme.Therunningtrackstretchedoutaheadofme,rising,falling,andoccasionallyspiralingintoahelix.Aninvisiblebarrierpreventedmefromaccidentallyrunningofftheedgeofthetrackandplummetingintothestarryabyss.TheBifrosttrackwasanotherstand-alonesimulation,oneofseveralhundredtrackdesignsstoredonmyconsole’sharddrive.
AsIbegantorun,Maxfiredupmy’80smusicplaylist.Asthefirstsongbegan,Iquicklyrattledoffitstitle,artist,album,andyearofreleasefrommemory:“‘AMillionMilesAway,’thePlimsouls,EverywhereatOnce,1983.”ThenIbegantosingalong,recitingthelyrics.Havingtheright’80ssonglyricmemorizedmightsavemyavatar’slifesomeday.
WhenIfinishedmyrun,Ipulledoffmyvisorandbeganremovingmyhapticsuit.Thishadtobedoneslowlytopreventdamagingthesuit’scomponents.AsIcarefullypeeleditoff,thecontactpatchesmadetinypoppingsoundsastheypulledfreeofmyskin,leavingtinycircularmarksallovermybody.OnceIhadthesuitoff,Iplaceditinsidethecleaningunitandlaidmycleansparesuitoutonthefloor.
Maxhadalreadyturnedontheshowerforme,settingthewatertemperaturerightwhereIlikedit.AsIjumpedintothesteam-filledstall,Maxswitchedthemusicovertomyshowertunesplaylist.Irecognizedtheopeningriffsof“Change,”byJohnWaite.FromtheVisionQuestsoundtrack.GeffenRecords,1985.
Theshowerworkedalotlikeanoldcarwash.Ijuststoodtherewhileitdidmostofthework,blastingmefromallangleswithjetsofsoapyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd197
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water,thenrinsingmeoff.Ihadnohairtowash,becausetheshoweralsodispensedanontoxichair-removingsolutionthatIrubbedallovermyfaceandbody.Thiseliminatedtheneedformetoshaveorcutmyhair,bothhasslesIdidn’tneed.Havingsmoothskinalsohelpedmakesuremyhapticsuitfit
snugly.Ilookedalittlefreakywithoutanyeyebrows,butIgotusedtoit.
Whentherinsejetscutoff,theblow-dryerskickedon,blastingthemoistureoffofmyskininamatterofseconds.IsteppedintothekitchenandtookoutacanofSludge,ahigh-protein,vitaminD–infusedbreakfastdrink(tohelpcounteractmysunlightdeprivation).AsIgulpeditdown,mycomputer’ssensorssilentlytooknote,scanningthebarcodeandadd-ingthecaloriestomytotalfortheday.Withbreakfastoutoftheway,Ipulledonmycleanhapticsuit.Thiswaslesstrickythantakingthesuitoff,butitstilltooktimetodoproperly.
OnceIhadthesuiton,Iorderedthehapticchairtoextend.ThenIpausedandspentamomentstaringatmyimmersionrig.I’dbeensoproudofallthishigh-techhardwarewhenI’dfirstpurchasedit.Butoverthepastfewmonths,I’dcometoseemyrigforwhatitwas:anelaboratecontraptionfordeceivingmysenses,toallowmetoliveinaworldthatdidn’texist.EachcomponentofmyrigwasabarinthecellwhereIhadwillinglyimprisonedmyself.
Standingthere,underthebleakfluorescentsofmytinyone-roomapartment,therewasnoescapingthetruth.Inreallife,Iwasnothingbutanantisocialhermit.Arecluse.Apale-skinnedpopculture–obsessedgeek.Anagoraphobicshut-in,withnorealfriends,family,orgenuinehumancontact.Iwasjustanothersad,lost,lonelysoul,wastinghislifeonaglorifiedvideogame.
ButnotintheOASIS.Inthere,IwasthegreatParzival.World-famousgunterandinternationalcelebrity.Peopleaskedformyautograph.Ihadafanclub.Several,actually.IwasrecognizedeverywhereIwent(butonlywhenIwantedtobe).Iwaspaidtoendorseproducts.Peopleadmiredandlookeduptome.Igotinvitedtothemostexclusiveparties.Iwenttoallthehippestclubsandneverhadtowaitinline.Iwasapop-cultureicon,aVRrockstar.And,inguntercircles,Iwasalegend.Nay,agod.
Isatdownandpulledonmyglovesandvisor.Oncemyidentitywasverified,theGregariousSimulationSystemslogoappearedinfrontofme,followedbythelog-inprompt.
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Greetings,Parzival.
Pleasespeakyourpassphrase.
Iclearedmythroatandrecitedmypassphrase.EachwordappearedonmydisplayasIsaidit.“Nooneintheworldevergetswhattheywantandthatisbeautiful.”
Therewasabriefpause,andthenIletoutaninvoluntarysighofreliefastheOASISfadedintoexistenceallaroundme.
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Myavatarslowlymaterializedinfrontofthecontrolpanelinmystronghold’scommandcenter,thesamespotwhereI’dbeensittingthenightbefore,engagedinmyeveningritualofstaringblanklyattheQuatrainuntilIdriftedofftosleepandthesystemloggedmeout.I’dbeenstaringatthedamnthingforalmostsixmonthsnow,andIstillhadn’tbeenabletodecipherit.Noonehad.Everyonehadtheories,ofcourse,buttheJadeKeystillremainedunfound,andtoprankingsontheScoreboardremainedstatic.
Mycommandcenterwaslocatedunderanarmoreddomeembeddedintherockysurfaceofmyownprivateasteroid.FromhereIhadasweeping360-degreeviewofthesurroundingcrateredlandscape,stretchingtothehorizoninalldirections.Therestofmystrongholdwasbelowground,inavastsubterraneancomplexthatstretchedallthewaytotheasteroid’score.I’dcodedtheentirethingmyself,shortlyaftermovingtoColumbus.
Myavatarneededastronghold,andIdidn’twantanyneighbors,soI’dboughtthecheapestplanetoidIcouldfind—thistinybarrenasteroidinSectorFourteen.ItsdesignationwasS14A316,butI’drenameditFalco,aftertheAustrianrapstar.(Iwasn’tahugeFalcofanoranything.Ijustthoughtitsoundedlikeacool
name.)
Falcohadonlyafewsquarekilometersofsurfacearea,butithadstillcostmeaprettypenny.Ithadbeenworthit,though.Whenyouownedyourownworld,youcouldbuildwhateveryouwantedthere.AndnoonecouldvisititunlessIgrantedthemaccess,somethingInevergavetoany-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd200
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one.MystrongholdwasmyhomeinsidetheOASIS.Myavatar’ssanctuary.ItwastheoneplaceintheentiresimulationwhereIwastrulysafe.
Assoonasmylog-insequencecompleted,awindowpoppeduponmydisplay,informingmethattodaywasanelectionday.NowthatIwaseighteen,Icouldvote,inboththeOASISelectionsandtheelectionsforU.S.governmentofficials.Ididn’tbotherwiththelatter,becauseIdidn’tseethepoint.Theonce-greatcountryintowhichI’dbeenbornnowresembleditsformerselfinnameonly.Itdidn’tmatterwhowasincharge.
ThosepeoplewererearrangingdeckchairsontheTitanicandeveryoneknewit.Besides,nowthateveryonecouldvotefromhome,viatheOASIS,theonlypeoplewhocouldgetelectedweremoviestars,realityTVpersonalities,orradicaltelevangelists.
IdidtakethetimetovoteintheOASISelections,however,becausetheiroutcomesactuallyaffectedme.Thevotingprocessonlytookmeafewminutes,becauseIwasalreadyfamiliarwithallofthemajorissuesGSShadputontheballot.ItwasalsotimetoelectthepresidentandVP
oftheOASISUserCouncil,butthatwasano-brainer.Likemostgunters,IvotedtoreelectCoryDoctorowandWilWheaton(again).Therewerenotermlimits,andthosetwogeezershadbeendoingakick-assjobofprotectinguserrightsforoveradecade.
WhenIfinishedvoting,Iadjustedmyhapticchairslightlyandstudiedthe
commandconsoleinfrontofme.Itwascrammedwithswitches,buttons,keyboards,joysticks,anddisplayscreens.Abankofsecuritymonitorsonmyleftwerelinkedtovirtualcamerasplacedthroughouttheinteriorandexteriorofmystronghold.Tomyright,anotherbankofmonitorsdisplayedallofmyfavoritenewsandentertainmentvidfeeds.
Amongthesewasmyownchannel:Parzival-TV—Broadcastingobscureeclecticcrap,24-7-365.
Earlierthatyear,GSShadaddedanewfeaturetoeveryOASISuser’saccount:thePOV(personalOASISvidfeed)channel.Itallowedanyonewhopaidamonthlyfeetoruntheirownstreamingtelevisionnetwork.
AnyoneloggedintothesimulationcouldtuneinandwatchyourPOV
channel,fromanywhereintheworld.Whatyouairedonyourchannelandwhoyouallowedtoviewitwereentirelyuptoyou.Mostuserschosetoruna“voyeurchannel,”whichwaslikebeingthestarofyourowntwenty-four-hourrealityshow.HoveringvirtualcameraswouldfollowyouravatararoundtheOASISasyouwentaboutyourday-to-dayac-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd201
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tivities.Youcouldlimitaccesstoyourchannelsothatonlyyourfriendscouldwatch,oryoucouldchargeviewersbythehourtoaccessyourPOV.
Alotofsecond-tiercelebritiesandpornographersdidthis,sellingtheirvirtuallivesataper-minutepremium.
SomepeopleusedtheirPOVtobroadcastlivevideooftheirreal-worldselves,ortheirdog,ortheirkids.Somepeopleprogrammednothingbutoldcartoons.Thepossibilitieswereendless,andthevarietyofstuffavailableseemedtogrowmoretwistedeveryday.NonstopfootfetishvideosbroadcastoutofEasternEurope.AmateurpornfeaturingdeviantsoccermomsinMinnesota.Younameit.Everyflavorofweirdnessthehumanpsychecouldcookupwasbeingfilmed
andbroadcastonline.Thevastwastelandoftelevisionprogramminghadfinallyreacheditszenith,andtheaveragepersonwasnolongerlimitedtofifteenminutesoffame.NoweveryonecouldbeonTV,everysecondofeveryday,whetherornotanyonewaswatching.
Parzival-TVwasn’tavoyeurchannel.Infact,Inevershowedmyavatar’sfaceonmyvidfeed.Instead,Iprogrammedaselectionofclassic’80sTVshows,retrocommercials,cartoons,musicvideos,andmovies.Lotsofmovies.Ontheweekends,IshowedoldJapanesemonsterflicks,alongwithsomevintageanime.Whateverstruckmyfancy.Itdidn’treallymatterwhatIprogrammed.MyavatarwasstilloneoftheHighFive,somyvidfeeddrewmillionsofviewerseveryday,regardlessofwhatIaired,andthisallowedmetosellcommercialtimetomyvarioussponsors.
MostofParzival-TV’sregularviewersweregunterswhomonitoredmyvidfeedwiththehopethatI’dinadvertentlyrevealsomekeypieceofinformationabouttheJadeKeyortheeggitself.Ineverdid,ofcourse.Atthemoment,Parzival-TVwaswrappingupanonstoptwo-dayKikaidermarathon.Kikaiderwasalate-’70sJapaneseactionshowaboutared-and-blueandroidwhobeatthecrapoutofrubber-suitedmonstersineachepisode.Ihadaweaknessforvintagekaijuandtokusatsu,showslikeSpec-treman,TheSpaceGiants,andSupaidaman.
Ipulledupmyprogramminggridandmadeafewchangestomyeveninglineup.IclearedawaytheepisodesofRiptideandMisfitsofScienceI’dprogrammedanddroppedinafewback-to-backflicksstarringGamera,myfavoritegiantflyingturtle.Ithoughttheyshouldberealcrowdpleas-ers.Then,tofinishoffthebroadcastday,IaddedafewepisodesofSilverSpoons.
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Art3misalsoranherownvidfeedchannel,Art3mivision,andIalwayskeptoneofmymonitorstunedtoit.Rightnow,shewasairingherusualMondayeveningfare:anepisodeofSquarePegs.AfterthatwouldbeElec-traWomanandDynaGirl,followedbyback-to-backepisodesofIsisandWonderWoman.Her
programminglineuphadn’tchangedinages.Butitdidn’tmatter.Shestillgotkillerratings.Recently,she’dalsolaunchedherownwildlysuccessfulclothinglineforfull-figuredfemaleavatars,underthelabelArt3Miss.Shewasdoingreallywellforherself.
AfterthatnightintheDistractedGlobe,Art3mishadcutoffallcontactwithme.Sheblockedallofmye-mails,phonecalls,andchatrequests.Shealsostoppedmakingpoststoherblog.
ItriedeverythingIcouldthinkoftoreachher.Isentheravatarflowers.Imademultipletripstoheravatar’sstronghold,anarmoredpalaceonBenatar,thesmallmoonsheowned.Idroppedmixtapesandnotesonherpalacefromtheair,likelovesickbombs.Once,inasupremeactofdesperation,Istoodoutsideherpalacegatesfortwosolidhours,withaboomboxovermyhead,blasting“InYourEyes”byPeterGabrielatfullvolume.
Shedidn’tcomeout.Idon’tevenknowifshewashome.
I’dbeenlivinginColumbusforoverfivemonthsnow,andithadbeeneightlong,torturousweekssinceI’dlastspokentoArt3mis.ButIhadn’tspentthattimemopingaroundandfeelingsorryformyself.Well,notallofit,anyway.I’dtriedtoenjoymy“newlife”asaworld-famoussector-hoppinggunter.EventhoughI’dmaxxedoutmyavatar’spowerlevel,Icontinuedtocompleteasmanyquestsaspossible,toaddtomyalreadyimpressivecollectionofweapons,magicitems,andvehicles,whichIkeptinavaultdeepwithinmystronghold.QuestingkeptmebusyandservedasawelcomedistractionfromthegrowinglonelinessandisolationIfelt.
I’dtriedtoreconnectwithAechafterArt3mishaddumpedme,butthingsweren’tthesame.We’dgrownapart,andIknewitwasmyfault.
Ourconversationswerenowstiltedandreserved,asifwewerebothafraidofrevealingsomekeypieceofinformationtheothermightbeabletouse.
Icouldtellhenolongertrustedme.AndwhileI’dbeenoffobsessingoverArt3mis,itseemedAechhadbecomeobsessedwithbeingthefirstguntertofindtheJadeKey.Butithadbeenalmosthalfayearsincewe’dclearedtheFirstGate,andtheJadeKey’slocationstillremainedamystery.
Ihadn’tspokentoAechinalmostamonth.Mylastconversationwithhimhad
devolvedintoashoutingmatch,whichhadendedwhenIre-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd203
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mindedAechthathe“neverevenwouldhavefoundtheCopperKey”ifIhadn’tledhimstraighttoit.He’dglaredatmeinsilenceforasecond,thenloggedoutofthechatroom.Stubbornpridekeptmefromcallinghimbackrightawaytoapologize,andnowitseemedliketoomuchtimehadpassed.
Yeah.Iwasonaroll.Inlessthansixmonths,I’dmanagedtowreckbothofmyclosestfriendships.
IflippedovertoAech’schannel,whichhecalledtheH-Feed.HewascurrentlyshowingaWWFmatchfromthelate’80s,featuringHulkHoganandAndretheGiant.Ididn’tevenbothercheckingDaitoandShoto’schannel,theDaishow,becauseIknewthey’dbeshowingsomeoldsamuraimovie.That’sallthoseguyseveraired.
AfewmonthsafterourconfrontationalfirstmeetinginAech’sbasement,I’dmanagedtoformatenuousfriendshipwithDaitoandShotowhenthethreeofusteameduptocompleteanextendedquestinSectorTwenty-two.Itwasmyidea.Ifeltbadabouthowourfirstencounterhadended,andIwaitedforanopportunitytoextendsomesortofolivebranchtothetwosamurai.ItcamewhenIdiscoveredahiddenhigh-levelquestcalledShodaiUrutoramanontheplanetTokusatsu.Thecreationdateinthequest’scolophonsaidithadbeenlaunchedseveralyearsafterHalliday’sdeath,whichmeantitcouldn’thaveanyrelationtothecontest.
ItwasalsoaJapanese-languagequest,createdbyGSS’sHokkaidodivision.Icouldhavetriedtocompleteitonmyown,usingtheMandaraxreal-timetranslatorsoftwareinstalledinallOASISaccounts,butitwouldhavebeenrisky.Mandaraxhadbeenknowntogarbleormisinterpretquestinstructionsandcues,whichcouldeasilyleadtofatalmistakes.
DaitoandShotolivedinJapan(they’dbecomenationalheroesthere),andI
knewthattheybothspokeJapaneseandEnglishfluently.SoI’dcontactedthemtoaskiftheywereinterestedinteamingupwithme,justforthisonequest.Theywereskepticalatfirst,butafterIdescribedtheuniquenatureofthequest,andwhatIbelievedthepayoffforsolvingitmightbe,theyfinallyagreed.ThethreeofusmetoutsidethequestgateonTokusatsuandenteredittogether.
Thequestwasare-creationofallthirty-nineepisodesoftheoriginalUltramanTVseries,whichhadairedonJapanesetelevisionfrom1966to1967.Theshow’sstorylinecenteredaroundahumannamedHayatawhowasamemberoftheSciencePatrol,anorganizationdevotedtofightingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd204
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thehordesofgiantGodzilla-likemonstersthatwereconstantlyattackingEarthandthreateninghumancivilization.WhentheSciencePatrolencounteredathreattheycouldn’thandleontheirown,HayatawoulduseanaliendevicecalledaBetaCapsuletotransformintoanaliensuper-beingknownasUltraman.Thenhewouldproceedtokickthemonster-of-the-week’sass,usingallsortsofkung-fumovesandenergyattacks.
IfI’denteredthequestgatebymyself,IwouldhaveautomaticallyplayedthroughtheentireseriesstorylineasHayata.ButbecauseShoto,Daito,andIhadallenteredatonce,wewereeachallowedtoselectadifferentSciencePatrolteammembertoplay.Wecouldthenchangeorswapcharactersatthestartofthenextlevelor“episode.”ThethreeofustookturnsplayingHayataandhisSciencePatrolteammatesHoshinoandArashi.AswithmostquestsintheOASIS,playingasateammadeiteasiertodefeatthevariousenemiesandcompleteeachofthelevels.
Ittookusanentireweek,oftenplayingoversixteenhoursaday,beforewewerefinallyabletoclearallthirty-ninelevelsandcompletethequest.
Aswesteppedoutofthequestgate,ouravatarswereeachawardedahugeamountofexperiencepointsandseveralthousandcredits.Buttherealprizeforcompletingthequestwasanincrediblyrareartifact:Hayata’sBetaCapsule.The
smallmetalcylinderallowedtheavatarwhopossessedittotransformintoUltramanonceaday,foruptothreeminutes.
Sincetherewerethreeofus,therewasadebateoverwhoshouldbeallowedtokeeptheartifact.“Parzivalshouldhaveit,”Shotohadsaid,turningtohisolderbrother.“Hefoundthisquest.Wewouldn’tevenhaveknownaboutit,wereitnotforhim.”
Ofcourse,Daitohaddisagreed.“Andhewouldnothavebeenabletocompletethequestwithoutourhelp!”HesaidtheonlyfairthingtodowouldbetoauctionofftheBetaCapsuleandsplittheproceeds.ButtherewasnowayIcouldallowthat.Theartifactwasfartoovaluabletosell,andIknewitwouldendupinthehandsoftheSixers,becausetheypurchasednearlyeverymajorartifactthatwentupforauction.IalsosawthisasanopportunitytogetonDaisho’sgoodside.
“YoutwoshouldkeeptheBetaCapsule,”Isaid.“UrutoramanisJapan’sgreatestsuperhero.HispowersbelonginJapanesehands.”
Theywerebothsurprisedandhumbledbymygenerosity.EspeciallyDaito.“Thankyou,Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.“Youareamanofhonor.”
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Afterthat,thethreeofushadpartedasfriends,ifnotnecessarilyallies,andIconsideredthatanamplerewardformyefforts.
AchimesoundedinmyearsandIcheckedthetime.Itwasalmosteighto’clock.Timetomakethedoughnuts.
...
Iwasalwayshard-upforcash,nomatterhowfrugalItriedtobe.Ihadseverallargebillstopayeachmonth,bothintherealworldandintheOASIS.Myreal-worldexpenseswereprettystandard.Rent,electricity,food,water.Hardware
repairsandupgrades.Myavatar’sexpenseswerefarmoreexotic.Spacecraftrepairs.Teleportationfees.Powercells.Am-munition.Ipurchasedmyammoinbulk,butitstillwasn’tcheap.Andmymonthlyteleportationexpenseswereoftenastronomical.Mysearchfortheeggrequiredconstanttravel,andGSSkeptraisingtheirteleportationfares.
I’dalreadyspentallofmyremainingproductendorsementdough.
Mostofitwenttowardthecostofmyrigandbuyingmyownasteroid.IearnedadecentamountofmoneyeachmonthbysellingcommercialtimeonmyPOVchannelandbyauctioningoffanyunneededmagicitems,armor,orweaponsIacquiredduringmytravels.Butmyprimarysourceofincomewasmyfull-timejobdoingOASIStechnicalsupport.
WhenI’dcreatedmynewBryceLynchidentity,I’dgivenmyselfacollegedegree,alongwithmultipletechnicalcertificationsandalong,sterlingworkrecordasanOASISprogrammerandappdeveloper.However,despitemysterlingbogusrésumé,theonlyjobI’dbeenabletogetwasasatier-onetechnicalsupportrepresentativeatHelpfulHelpdeskInc.,oneofthecontractfirmsGSSusedtohandleOASIScustomerserviceandsupport.NowIworkedfortyhoursaweek,helpingmoronsreboottheirOASISconsolesandupdatethedriversfortheirhapticgloves.Itwasgruelingwork,butitpaidtherent.
IloggedoutofmyownOASISaccountandthenusedmyrigtologintoaseparateOASISaccountI’dbeenissuedforwork.Thelog-inprocesscompletedandItookcontrolofaHappyHelpdeskavatar,acookie-cutterKendollthatIusedtotaketech-supportcalls.Thisavatarappearedinsideahugevirtualcallcenter,insideavirtualcubicle,sittingatavirtualdesk,infrontofavirtualcomputer,wearingavirtualphoneheadset.
Ithoughtofthisplaceasmyownprivatevirtualhell.
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HelpfulHelpdeskInc.tookmillionsofcallsaday,fromallovertheworld.Twenty-fourseven,threesixty-five.Oneangry,befuddledcretinafteranother.Therewasnodowntimebetweencalls,becausetherewerealwaysseveralhundredmoronsinthecallqueue,allofthemwillingtowaitonholdforhourstohaveatechrepholdtheirhandandfixtheirproblem.Whybotherlookingupthesolutiononline?Whytrytofiguretheproblemoutonyourownwhenyoucouldhavesomeoneelsedoyourthinkingforyou?
Asusual,myten-hourshiftpassedslowly.Itwasimpossibleforhelp-deskavatarstoleavetheircubicles,butIfoundotherwaystopassthetime.MyworkaccountwasriggedsothatIcouldn’tbrowseoutsidewebsites,butI’dhackedmyvisortoallowmetolistentomusicorstreammoviesoffmyharddrivewhileItookcalls.
WhenmyshiftfinallyendedandIloggedoutofwork,IimmediatelyloggedbackintomyownOASISaccount.Ihadthousandsofnewe-mailmessageswaiting,andIcouldtelljustbytheirsubjectlineswhathadhappenedwhileI’dbeenatwork.
Art3mishadfoundtheJadeKey.
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Likeotherguntersaroundtheglobe,I’dbeendreadingthenextchangeontheScoreboard,becauseIknewitwasgoingtogivetheSixersanunfairadvantage.
Afewmonthsafterwe’dallclearedtheFirstGate,ananonymousavatarhadplacedanultrapowerfulartifactupforauction.ItwascalledFyndoro’sTabletofFinding,andithaduniquepowersthatcouldgiveitsownerahugeadvantageinthehuntforHalliday’sEasteregg.
MostofthevirtualitemsintheOASISwerecreatedbythesystematrandom,andtheywould“drop”whenyoukilledanNPCorcompletedaquest.Therarestsuchitemswereartifacts,superpowerfulmagicitemsthatgavetheirowners
incredibleabilities.Onlyafewhundredoftheseartifactsexisted,andmostofthemdatedbacktotheearliestdaysoftheOASIS,whenitwasstillprimarilyanMMOgame.Everyartifactwasunique,meaningthatonlyonecopyofitexistedintheentiresimulation.
Usually,thewaytoobtainanartifactwastodefeatsomegodlikevillainattheendofahigh-levelquest.Ifyougotlucky,thebadguywoulddropanartifactwhenyoukilledhim.Youcouldalsoobtainanartifactbykillinganavatarwhohadoneinitsinventory,orbypurchasingoneinanonlineauction.
Sinceartifactsweresorare,itwasalwaysbignewswhenonewentupforauction.Somehadbeenknowntosellforhundredsofthousandsofcredits,dependingontheirpowers.TherecordhadbeensetthreeyearsagowhenanartifactcalledtheCataclystwasauctionedoff.AccordingtoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd208
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itsauctionlisting,theCataclystwasasortofmagicalbomb,anditcouldbeusedonlyonce.Whenitwasdetonated,itwouldkilleverysingleavatarandNPCinthesector,includingitsowner.Therewasnodefenseagainstit.Ifyouwereunluckyenoughtobeinthesamesectorwhenitwentoff,youwereagoner,regardlessofhowpowerfulorwellprotectedyouwere.
TheCataclysthadsoldtoananonymousbidderforjustoveramillioncredits.Theartifactstillhadn’tbeendetonated,soitsnewownerstillhaditsittingaroundsomewhere,waitingfortherighttimetouseit.Itwassomethingofarunningjokenow.Whenagunterwassurroundedbyavatarsshedidn’tlike,shewouldclaimtohavetheCataclystinherinventoryandthreatentodetonateit.ButmostpeoplesuspectedthattheitemhadactuallyfallenintotheSixers’hands,alongwithcountlessotherpowerfulartifacts.
Fyndoro’sTabletofFindingwoundupsellingforevenmorethantheCataclyst.Accordingtotheauctiondescription,thetabletwasaflatcircleofpolishedblackstone,andithadoneverysimplepower.Onceaday,itsownercouldwriteanyavatar’snameonitssurface,andthetabletwoulddisplaythatavatar’s
locationatthatexactmoment.However,thispowerhadrangelimitations.IfyouwereinadifferentOASISsectorthantheavataryouweretryingtofind,thetabletwouldtellyouonlywhichsectoryourtargetwascurrentlyin.Ifyouwerealreadyinthesamesector,thetabletwouldtellyouwhatplanetyourtargetwascurrentlyon(orclosestto,iftheywereoutinspace).Ifyouwerealreadyonthesameplanetasyourtargetwhenyouusedthetablet,itwouldshowyoutheirexactcoordinatesonamap.
Astheartifact’ssellermadesuretopointoutinhisauctionlisting,ifyouusedthetablet’spowerinconjunctionwiththeScoreboard,itargu-ablybecamethemostvaluableartifactintheentireOASIS.AllyouhadtodowaswatchthetoprankingsontheScoreboardandwaituntilsomeone’sscoreincreased.Thesecondthathappened,youcouldwritethatavatar’snameonthetabletanditwouldtellyouwheretheywereatthatexactmoment,thusrevealingthelocationofthekeythey’djustfound,orthegatethey’djustexited.Duetotheartifact’srangelimitations,itmighttaketwoorthreeattemptstonarrowdowntheexactlocationofakeyoragate,butevenso,thatwasstillinformationalotofpeoplewouldbewillingtokillfor.
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warbrokeoutbetweenseveralofthelargegunterclans.Butwhentheauctionfinallyended,thetabletwoundupsellingtotheSixersforalmosttwomillioncredits.SorrentohimselfusedhisownIOIaccounttobidonthetablet.Hewaiteduntilthelastfewsecondsoftheauctionandthenoutbideveryone.Hecouldhavebidanonymously,butheobviouslywantedtheworldtoknowwhonowpossessedtheartifact.ItwasalsohiswayoflettingthoseofusintheHighFiveknowthatfromthatmomentforward,wheneveroneofusfoundakeyorclearedagate,theSixerswouldbetrackingus.Andtherewasnothingwecoulddoaboutit.
Atfirst,IwasworriedtheSixerswouldalsotrytousethetablettohuntdowneachofouravatarsandkillusoneatatime.Butlocatingouravatarswouldn’t
dothemanygoodunlesswehappenedtobeinaPvPzoneatthetimeandwerestupidenoughtostayputuntiltheSixerscouldreachus.Andsincethetabletcouldbeusedonlyonceaday,theywouldalsoruntheriskofmissingtheirwindowofopportunityiftheScoreboardchangedonthesamedaytheytriedtousethetablettolocateoneofus.
Theydidn’ttakethechance.Theykepttheartifactinreserveandwaitedfortheirmoment.
...
LessthanahalfhourafterArt3mis’sscoreincrease,theentireSixerfleetwasspottedconvergingonSectorSeven.ThemomenttheScoreboardchanged,theSixershadobviouslyusedFyndoro’sTabletofFindingtotrytoascertainArt3mis’sexactlocation.Luckily,theSixeravatarusingthetablet(probablySorrentohimself)happenedtobeinadifferentsectorfromArt3mis,sothetabletdidn’trevealwhatplanetshewason.ItonlytoldtheSixerswhichsectorshewascurrentlyin.AndsotheentireSixerfleethadimmediatelyhightailedittoSectorSeven.
Thankstotheircompletelackofsubtlety,thewholeworldnowknewtheJadeKeymustbehiddensomewhereinthatsector.Naturally,thousandsofguntersbegantoconvergeonittoo.TheSixershadnarrowedthesearchareaforeveryone.Luckily,SectorSevencontainedhundredsofplanets,moons,andotherworlds,andtheJadeKeycouldhavebeenhiddenonanyoneofthem.
Ispenttherestofthedayinshock,reelingatthenewsthatI’dbeendethroned.Thatwasexactlyhowthenewsfeedheadlinesputit:parzivaldethroned!art3misnew#1gunter!sixersclosingin!
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OnceIfinallygotagrip,IpulleduptheScoreboardandmademyselfstareatitforthirtysolidminuteswhileImentallyberatedmyself.
HIGHSCORES:
1.Art3mis
129,000
2.Parzival
110,000
3.Aech
108,000
4.Daito
107,000
5.Shoto
106,000
6.IOI-655321
105,000
7.IOI-643187
105,000
8.IOI-621671
105,000
9.IOI-678324
105,000
10.IOI-637330
105,000
You’vegotnoonebutyourselftoblame,Itoldmyself.Youletsuccessgotoyourhead.Youslackedoffonyourresearch.What,didyouthinklightningwouldstriketwice?Thateventuallyyou’djuststumbleacrosstheclueyouneededtofindtheJadeKey?Sittinginfirstplaceallthattimegaveyouafalsesenseofsecurity.Butyoudon’thavethatproblemnow,doyou,asshead?No,becauseinsteadofbucklingdownandfocusingonyourquestlikeyoushouldhave,youpissedawayyourlead.Youwastedalmosthalfayearscrewingaroundandpiningoversomegirlyou’veneverevenmetinperson.Thegirlwhodumpedyou.Thesamegirlwhoisgoingtoendupbeatingyou.
Now...getyourheadbackinthegame,moron.Findthatkey.
Suddenly,Iwantedtowinthecontestmorethanever.Notjustforthemoney.IwantedtoprovemyselftoArt3mis.AndIwantedtheHunttobeover,sothatshewouldtalktomeagain.SothatIcouldfinallymeetherinperson,seehertrueface,andtrytomakesenseofhowIfeltabouther.
IclearedtheScoreboardoffmydisplayandopenedupmygraildiary,whichhadnowgrownintoavastmountainofdatacontainingeveryscrapofinformationI’dcollectedsincethecontestbegan.Itappearedasajumbleofcascadingwindowsfloatinginfrontofme,displayingtext,maps,photos,andaudioandvideofiles,allindexed,cross-referenced,andpulsingwithlife.
IkepttheQuatrainopeninawindowthatwasalwaysontop.FourClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd211
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linesoftext.Twenty-fourwords.Thirty-foursyllables.I’dstaredatthemsooftenandforsolongthatthey’dnearlylostallmeaning.Lookingatthemagainnow,Ihadtoresisttheurgetoscreaminrageandfrustration.
ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
inadwellinglongneglected
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Iknewtheanswerwasrightthereinfrontofme.Art3mishadalreadyfigureditout.
IreadovermynotesaboutJohnDraper,akaCaptainCrunch,andthetoyplasticwhistlethathadmadehimfamousintheannalsofhackerlore.
Istillbelievedthatthesewerethe“captain”and“whistle”Hallidaywasreferringto.ButtherestoftheQuatrain’smeaningremainedamystery.
ButnowIpossessedanewpieceofinformation—thekeywassomewhereinSectorSeven.SoIpulledupmyOASISatlasandbegantosearchforplanetswithnamesIthoughtmightsomehowberelatedtotheQuatrain.Ifoundafewworldsnamedafterfamoushackers,likeWozandMitnick,butnonenamedafterJohnDraper.SectorSevenalsocontainedhundredsofworldsnamedafteroldUsenetnewsgroups,andononeofthese,theplanetalt.phreaking,therewasastatueofDraperposingwithanancientrotaryphoneinonehandandaCap’nCrunchwhistleintheother.ButthestatuehadbeenerectedthreeyearsafterHalliday’sdeath,soIknewitwasadeadend.
IreadthroughtheQuatrainyetagain,andthistimethelasttwolinesjumpedoutatme:
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Trophies.SomewhereinSectorSeven.IneededtofindacollectionoftrophiesinSectorSeven.
IdidaquicksearchofmyfilesonHalliday.FromwhatIcouldtell,theonlytrophieshe’deverownedwerethefiveGameDesigneroftheYearawardshe’dwonbackaroundtheturnofthecentury.Thesetrophieswerestillondisplayin
theGSSMuseuminColumbus,buttherewerereplicasofthemondisplayinsidetheOASIS,onaplanetcalledArchaide.
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AndArchaidewaslocatedinSectorSeven.
Theconnectionseemedthin,butIstillwantedtocheckitout.Attheveryleast,itwouldmakemefeellikeIwasdoingsomethingproductiveforthenextfewhours.
IglancedoveratMax,whowascurrentlydoingthesambaononeofmycommandcenter’smonitors.“Max,preptheVonnegutfortakeoff.Ifyou’renottoobusy.”
Maxstoppeddancingandsmirkedatme.“Yougotit,ElComanchero!”
Igotupandwalkedovertomystronghold’selevator,whichI’dmodeledaftertheturboliftontheoriginalStarTrekseries.Irodedownfourlevelstomyarmory,amassivevaultfilledwithstorageshelves,displaycases,andweaponracks.Ipulledupmyavatar’sinventorydisplay,whichappearedasaclassic“paperdoll”diagramofmyavatar,ontowhichIcoulddraganddropvariousitemsandpiecesofequipment.
ArchaidewaslocatedinaPvPzone,soIdecidedtoupgrademygearandwearmySundaybest.Iputonmygleaming+10HaleMailpoweredarmor,thenstrappedonmyfavoritesetofblasterpistolsandslungapump-actionpistol-gripshotgunacrossmyback,alongwitha+5VorpalBastardSword.Ialsograbbedafewotheressentialitems.Anextrapairofantigravboots.ARingofMagicResistance.AnAmuletofProtection.
SomeGauntletsofGiantStrength.Ihatedtheideaofneedingsomethingandnothavingitwithme,soIusuallyendedupcarryingenoughequipmentforthreegunters.WhenIranoutofroomonmyavatar’sbody,Istoredtheadditionalgear
inmyBackpackofHolding.
OnceIwasproperlyoutfitted,Ihoppedbackontheelevator,andafewsecondslaterIarrivedattheentranceofmyhangar,locatedonthebottomlevelofmystronghold.Pulsingbluelightslinedtherunway,whichranupthecenterofthehangartoamassivepairofarmoreddoorsatthefarend.Thesedoorsopenedintothelaunchtunnel,whichleduptoamatchingsetofarmoreddoorssetintotheasteroid’ssurface.
Standingontheleftsideoftherunwaywasmybattle-wornX-wingfighter.ParkedontherightsidewasmyDeLorean.Sittingontherunwayitselfwasmymostfrequentlyusedspacecraft,theVonnegut.Maxhadalreadypowereduptheengines,andtheyemittedalow,steadyroarthatfilledthehangar.TheVonnegutwasaheavilymodifiedFirefly-classtransportvessel,modeledaftertheSerenityintheclassicFireflyTVseries.TheshiphadbeennamedtheKayleewhenI’dfirstobtainedit,butI’dimmediatelyrechristeneditafteroneofmyfavoritetwentieth-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd213
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centurynovelists.Itsnewnamewasstenciledonthesideofitsbatteredgrayhull.
I’dlootedtheVonnegutfromacadreofOviraptorclansmenwhohadfoolishlyattemptedtohijackmyX-wingwhileIwascruisingthroughalargegroupofworldsinSectorElevenknownastheWhedonverse.TheOviraptorswerecockybastardswithnocluewhoitwastheyweremessingwith.Iwasinafoulmoodevenbeforethey’dopenedfireonme.Otherwise,Iprobablywouldhavejustevadedthembyjumpingtolightspeed.
ButthatdayIdecidedtotaketheirattackpersonally.
ShipswerelikemostotheritemsintheOASIS.Eachonehadspecificattributes,weapons,andspeedcapabilities.MyX-wingwasfarmorema-neuverablethantheOviraptors’largetransportship,soitwasnotroubleformetoavoidthebarragefromtheiraftermarketguns,whileIbombardedthemwithlaserbolts
andprotontorpedoes.AfterIdisabledtheirengines,Iboardedtheshipandproceededtokilleveryavatarthere.ThecaptaintriedtoapologizewhenhesawwhoIwas,butIwasn’tinaforgiv-ingmood.AfterI’ddispatchedthecrew,IparkedmyX-winginthecargoholdandthencruisedhomeinmynewship.
AsIapproachedtheVonnegut,theloadingrampextendedtothehangarfloor.BythetimeIreachedthecockpit,theshipwasalreadyliftingoff.IheardthelandinggearretractwithathudjustasIseatedmyselfatthecontrols.
“Max,lockupthehouse,andsetacourseforArchaide.”
“Aye,C-c-captain,”Maxstutteredfromoneofthecockpitmonitors.
Thehangardoorsslidopen,andtheVonnegutrocketedoutthelaunchtunnelandupintothestarrysky.Astheshipclearedthesurface,thearmoredtunneldoorsslammedclosedbehindit.
IspottedseveralshipscampedoutinahighorbitaboveFalco.Theusualsuspects:crazedfans,wannabedisciples,andaspiringbountyhunters.Afewofthem,theonescurrentlyturningtofollowme,weretagalongs—peoplewhospentmostoftheirtimetryingtotailprominentguntersandgatherintelontheirmovementssotheycouldselltheinformationlater.Iwasalwaysabletolosetheseidiotsbyjumpingtolightspeed.Aluckythingforthem.IfIcouldn’tlosesomeonewhowastryingtotailme,Iusuallyhadnochoicebuttostopandkillthem.
AstheVonnegutmadethejumptolightspeed,eachoftheplanetsonmyviewscreenbecamealongstreakoflight.“Li-li-lightspeedengaged,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd214
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Captain,”Maxreported.“ETAtoArchaideisestimatedatfifty-threeminutes.Fifteenifyouwanttousetheneareststargate.”
Stargateswerestrategicallylocatedthroughouteachsector.Theywerereallyjust
giantspaceship-sizedteleporters,butsincetheychargedbythemassofyourshipandthedistanceyouwantedtotravel,theywerenormallyusedonlybycorporationsorextremelywealthyavatarswithcreditstoburn.Iwasneither,butunderthecircumstances,Iwaswillingtosplurgealittle.
“Let’stakethestargate,Max.We’reinkindofahurry.”
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TheVonnegutdroppedoutoflightspeed,andArchaidesuddenlyfilledthecockpitviewscreen.Itstoodoutfromtheotherplanetsintheareabecauseitwasn’tcodedtolookreal.Alloftheneighboringplanetswereperfectlyrendered,withclouds,continents,orimpactcraterscoveringtheircurvedsurfaces.ButArchaidehadnoneofthesefeatures,becauseitwashometotheOASIS’slargestclassicvideogamemuseum,anditsappearancehadbeendesignedasatributetothevector-graphicgamesofthelate’70sandearly’80s.Theplanet’sonlysurfacefeaturewasawebofglowinggreendotssimilartothegroundlightsonanairportrunway.Theywerespacedevenlyacrosstheglobeinaperfectgrid,sothat,fromorbit,Archaideresembledthevector-graphicDeathStarfromAtari’s1983StarWarsarcadegame.
AsMaxpilotedtheVonnegutdowntothesurface,Ipreparedforthepossibilityofcombatbychargingupmyarmorandbuffingmyavatarwithseveralpotionsandnanopacks.ArchaidewasbothaPvPzoneandachaoszone,whichmeantthatbothmagicandtechnologyfunctionedhere.SoImadesuretoloadupallofmycombatcontingencymacros.
TheVonnegut’sperfectlyrenderedsteelloadingramploweredtotheground,standingoutinsharpcontrastagainstthedigitalblacknessofArchaide’ssurface.AsIsteppedofftheramp,Itappedakeypadonmyrightwrist.Therampretracted,andtherewasasharphumastheship’ssecuritysystemactivated.AtransparentblueshieldappearedaroundtheVonnegut’shull.
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Igazedaroundatthehorizon,whichwasjustajaggedgreenvectorline,denotingmountainousterrain.Hereonthesurface,Archaidelookedexactlyliketheenvironmentofthe1981gameBattlezone,anothervector-graphicclassicfromAtari.Inthedistance,atriangularvolcanospewedgreenpixelsoflava.Youcouldruntowardthatvolcanofordaysandneverreachit.Italwaysremainedatthehorizon.Justlikeinanoldvideogame,thesceneryneverchangedonArchaide,evenifyoucircumnavigatedtheglobe.
Followingmyinstructions,MaxhadsettheVonnegutdowninalandinglotneartheequatorintheeasternhemisphere.Thelotwasempty,andthesurroundingareaappeareddeserted.Iheadedtowardthenearestgreendot.AsIapproached,Icouldseethatitwasactuallythemouthofanentrancetunnel,aneongreencircletenmetersindiameterleadingbelowground.Archaidewasahollowplanet,andthemuseumexhibitswerealllocatedbeneaththesurface.
AsIapproachedthenearesttunnelentrance,Iheardloudmusicema-natingfrombelow.Irecognizedthesongas“PourSomeSugaronMe”byDefLeppard,offtheirHysteriaalbum(EpicRecords,1987).Ireachedtheedgeoftheglowinggreenringandjumpedin.Asmyavatarplummeteddownintothemuseum,thegreenvector-graphicthemedisappearedandIfoundmyselfinhigh-resolutionfull-colorsurroundings.Everythingaroundmelookedcompletelyrealonceagain.
Belowitssurface,Archaidehousedthousandsofclassicvideoarcades,eachonealovingre-creationofanactualarcadethathadonceexistedsomewhereintherealworld.SincethedawnoftheOASIS,thousandsofelderlyusershadcomehereandpainstakinglycodedvirtualreplicasoflocalarcadestheyrememberedfromtheirchildhood,thusmakingthemapermanentpartofthemuseum.Andeachofthesesimulatedgamerooms,bowlingalleys,andpizzajointswaslinedwithclassicarcadegames.Therewasatleastonecopyofeverycoin-operatedvideogameevermadedownhere.TheoriginalgameROMswereallstoredintheplanet’sOASIScode,andtheirwoodengamecabinetswereeachcodedtolookliketheantiqueoriginals.Hundredsofshrinesandexhibitsdevotedto
variousgamedesignersandpublisherswerealsoscatteredthroughoutthemuseum.
Themuseum’svariouslevelswerecomprisedofvastcavernslinkedbyanetworkofsubterraneanstreets,tunnels,staircases,elevators,escala-tors,ladders,slides,trapdoors,andsecretpassageways.Itwaslikeamas-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd217
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siveundergroundmultilevellabyrinth.Thelayoutmadeitextremelyeasytogetlost,soIkeptathree-dimensionalholographicmaponmydisplay.
Myavatar’spresentlocationwasindicatedbyaflashingbluedot.I’denteredthemuseumnexttoanoldarcadecalledAladdin’sCastle,closetothesurface.Itouchedapointonthemapnearthecoreoftheplanet,indicatingmydestination,andthesoftwaremappedthequickestrouteformetogetthere.Iranforward,followingit.
Themuseumwasdividedintolayers.Here,neartheplanet’smantle,youcouldfindthelastcoin-operatedvideogamesevermade,fromthefirstfewdecadesofthetwenty-firstcentury.Theseweremostlydedicatedsimulatorcabinetswithfirst-generationhaptics—vibratingchairsandtiltinghydraulicplatforms.Lotsofnetworkedstockcarsimulatorsthatallowedpeopletoraceeachother.Thesegameswerethelastoftheirkind.Bythatera,homevideogameconsoleshadalreadymademostcoin-opgamesob-solete.AftertheOASISwentonline,theystoppedmakingthemaltogether.
Asyouventureddeeperintothemuseum,thegamesgrewolderandmorearchaic.Turn-of-the-centurycoin-ops.Lotsofhead-to-headfightinggameswithblockypolygon-renderedfiguresbeatingthecrapoutofeachotheronlargeflat-screenmonitors.Shootinggamesplayedwithcrudehapticlightguns.Dancinggames.Onceyoureachedthelevelbelowthat,thegamesallbegantolookidentical.Eachwashousedinalargerectangularwoodenboxcontainingacathodepicturetubewithasetofcrudegamecontrolsmountedinfrontofit.Youusedyourhandsandyoureyes(andoccasionallyyourfeet)toplaythese
games.Therewerenohaptics.Thesegamesdidn’tmakeyoufeelanything.AndthedeeperIdescended,thecruderthegamegraphicsgot.
Themuseum’sbottomlevel,locatedintheplanetcore,wasasphericalroomcontainingashrinetotheveryfirstvideogame,TennisforTwo,inventedbyWilliamHiginbothamin1958.Thegameranonanancientanalogcomputerandwasplayedonatinyoscilloscopescreenaboutfiveinchesindiameter.NexttoitwasareplicaofanancientPDP-1computerrunningacopyofSpacewar!,thesecondvideogameevermade,createdbyabunchofstudentsatMITin1962.
Likemostgunters,I’dalreadyvisitedArchaideafewtimes.I’dbeentothecoreandhadplayedbothTennisforTwoandSpacewar!untilI’dmasteredthem.ThenI’dwanderedaroundthemuseums’manylevels,playinggamesandlookingforcluesHallidaymighthaveleftbehind.ButI’dneverfoundanything.
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Ikeptrunning,fartherandfartherdown,untilIreachedtheGregariousSimulationSystemsMuseum,whichwaslocatedjustafewlevelsabovetheplanetcore.I’dbeenhereoncebeforetoo,soIknewmywayaround.TherewereexhibitsdevotedtoallofGSS’smostpopulargames,includingseveralarcadeportsoftitlesthey’doriginallyreleasedforhomecomputersandconsoles.Itdidn’ttakemelongtofindtheexhibitwhereHalliday’sfiveGameDesigneroftheYeartrophiesweredisplayed,nexttoabronzestatueofthemanhimself.
Withinafewminutes,IknewIwaswastingmytimehere.TheGSS
Museumexhibitwascodedsothatitwasimpossibletoremoveanyoftheitemsondisplay,sothetrophiescouldnotbe“collected.”Ispentafewminutestryinginvaintocutoneofthemfreeofitspedestalwithalaserweldingtorchbeforecallingitquits.
Anotherdeadend.Thiswholetriphadbeenawasteoftime.Itookonelastlook
aroundandheadedfortheexit,tryingnottoletmyfrustrationgetthebestofme.
Idecidedtotakeadifferentrouteonmywaybackuptothesurface,throughasectionofthemuseumI’dneverfullyexploredonmypreviousvisits.Iwanderedthroughaseriesoftunnelsthatledmeintoagiant,cavernouschamber.Itcontainedakindofundergroundcitycomprisedentirelyofpizzajoints,bowlingalleys,conveniencestores,and,ofcourse,videoarcades.Iwanderedthroughthemazeofemptystreets,thendownawindingbackalleythatdead-endedbytheentranceofasmallpizzashop.
IfrozeinmytrackswhenIsawthenameoftheplace.
ItwascalledHappytimePizza,anditwasareplicaofasmallfamily-runpizzajointthathadexistedinHalliday’shometowninthemid-1980s.
HallidayappearedtohavecopiedthecodeforHappytimePizzafromhisMiddletownsimulationandhiddenaduplicateofithereintheArchaidemuseum.
Whatthehellwasitdoinghere?I’dneverseenitsexistencementionedonanyoftheguntermessageboardsorstrategyguides.Wasitpossiblenoonehadeverspotteditbeforenow?
HallidaymentionedHappytimePizzaseveraltimesintheAlmanac,soIknewhehadfondmemoriesofthisplace.He’doftencomehereafterschool,toavoidgoinghome.
Theinteriorre-createdtheatmosphereofaclassic’80spizzaparlorandvideoarcadeinlovingdetail.SeveralNPCemployeesstoodbehindthecounter,tossingdoughandslicingpies.(IturnedonmyOlfatrixtowerClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd219
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anddiscoveredthatIcouldactuallysmellthetomatosauce.)Theshopwasdividedintotwohalves,thegameroomandthediningroom.Thediningroom
hadvideogamesinitaswell—alloftheglass-toptableswereactuallysit-downarcadegamesknownas“cocktailcabinets.”YoucouldsitandplayDonkeyKongonthetablewhileyouateyourpizza.
IfI’dbeenhungry,Icouldhaveorderedarealsliceofpizzaatthecounter.Theorderwouldhavebeenforwardedtoapizzavendornearmyapartmentcomplex,theoneI’dspecifiedinmyOASISaccount’sfoodservicepreferencesettings.Thenaslicewouldhavebeendeliveredtomydoorinamatterofminutes,andthecost(includingtip)wouldhavebeendeductedfrommyOASISaccountbalance.
AsIwalkedintothegameroom,IheardaBryanAdamssongblastingoutofthespeakersmountedonthecarpetedwalls.Bryanwassingingabouthow,everywherehewent,thekidswantedtorock.Ipressedmythumbtoaplateonthechangemachineandboughtasinglequarter.Iscoopeditoutofthestainless-steeltrayandheadedtothebackofthegameroom,takinginallofthesimulation’slittledetails.Ispottedahand-writtennotetapedtothemarqueeofaDefendergame.Itreadbeattheowner’shighscoreandwinafreelargepizza!
ARobotrongamewascurrentlydisplayingitshigh-scorelist.Robotronalloweditsall-timebestplayertoenteranentiresentenceoftextbesidetheirscoreinsteadofjusttheirinitials,andthismachine’stopdoghadusedhispreciousvictoryspacetoannouncethatVice-PrincipalRundbergisatotaldouchebag!
IcontinuedfartherintothedarkelectroniccaveandwalkeduptoaPac-Manmachineattheverybackoftheroom,wedgedbetweenaGalagaandaDigDug.Theblack-and-yellowcabinetwascoveredwithchipsandscratches,andthegarishside-artwaspeeling.
ThePac-Mangame’smonitorwasdark,andtherewasanoutofordersigntapedtoit.WhywouldHallidayincludeabrokengameinthissimulation?Wasthisjustanotheratmosphericdetail?Intrigued,Idecidedtoinvestigatefurther.
Ipulledthegamecabinetoutfromthewallandsawthatthepowercordwasunplugged.Ipluggeditbackintothewallsocketandwaitedforthegametobootup.Itseemedtoworkfine.
AsIwasshovingthecabinetbackintoplace,Ispottedsomething.Atthetopofthegame,restingonthemetalbracethatheldtheglassmarqueeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd220
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inplace,wasasinglequarter.Thedateonthecoinwas1981—theyearPac-Manhadbeenreleased.
Iknewthatbackinthe’80s,placingyourquarteronagame’smarqueewashowyoureservedthenextturnonthemachine.ButwhenItriedtoremovethequarter,itwouldn’tbudge.Likeitwasweldedinplace.
Weird.
IslappedtheoutofordersignontheneighboringGalagacabinetandlookedatthestart-upscreen,whichwaslistingoffthegame’svillain-ousghosts:Inky,Blinky,Pinky,andClyde.Thehighscoreatthetopofthescreenwas3,333,350points.
Severalthingswerestrangeaboutthis.Intherealworld,Pac-Manmachinesdidn’tsavetheirhighscoreiftheywereunplugged.Andthehigh-scorecounterwassupposedtoflipoverat1,000,000points.Butthismachinedisplayedahighscoreof3,333,350points—just10pointsshyofthehighestPac-Manscorepossible.
Theonlywaytobeatthatscorewouldbetoplayaperfectgame.
Ifeltmypulsequicken.I’duncoveredsomethinghere.SomesortofEasteregg,hiddeninsidethisoldcoin-opvideogame.Itwasn’ttheEasteregg.JustanEasteregg.Somesortofchallengeorpuzzle,oneIwasalmostcertainhadbeencreatedandplacedherebyHalliday.Ididn’tknowifithadanythingtodowiththeJadeKey.Itmightnotberelatedtotheeggatall.Buttherewasonlyonewaytofindout.
IwouldhavetoplayaperfectgameofPac-Man.
Thiswasnoeasyfeat.Youhadtoplayall256levelsperfectly,allthewayuptothefinalsplit-screen.Andyouhadtoeateverysingledot,energizer,fruit,andghostpossiblealongtheway,withouteverlosingasinglelife.Lessthantwenty
perfectgameshadbeendocumentedinthegame’ssixty-yearhistory.Oneofthem,thefastestperfectgameeverplayed,hadbeenaccomplishedbyJamesHallidayinjustunderfourhours.He’ddoneitonanoriginalPac-ManmachinelocatedintheGregariousGamesbreakroom.
BecauseIknewHallidaylovedthegame,I’dalreadydoneafairamountofresearchonPac-Man.ButI’dnevermanagedtoplayaperfectgame.Ofcourse,I’dneverreallymadeaseriousattempt.Upuntilnow,I’dneverhadareasonto.
IopenedmygraildiaryandpulledupallofthePac-Man–relateddataI’devercollected.Theoriginalgamecode.Theunabridgedbiographyofthedesigner,ToruIwatani.EveryPac-Manstrategyguideeverwritten.
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EveryepisodeofthePac-Mancartoonseries.TheingredientsforPac-Mancereal.And,ofcourse,patterns.IhadPac-Manpatterndiagramsoutthewazoo,alongwithhundredsofhoursofarchivedvideoofthebestPac-Manplayersinhistory.I’dalreadystudiedalotofthisstuff,butIskimmedoveritagainnowtorefreshmymemory.ThenIclosedmygraildiaryandstudiedthePac-Manmachineinfrontofme,likeagunfightersizingupanopponent.
Istretchedmyarms,rolledmyheadandneckaroundonmyshoulders,andcrackedmyknuckles.
WhenIdroppedaquarterintotheleftcoinslot,thegameemittedafamiliarelectronicbea-wup!sound.ItappedthePlayerOnebutton,andthefirstmazeappearedonthescreen.
Iwrappedmyrighthandaroundthejoystickandbegantoplay,guidingmypizza-shapedprotagonistthroughonemazeafteranother.Wakka-wakka-wakka-wakka.
MysyntheticsurroundingsfadedawayasIfocusedonthegameandlostmyself
initsancienttwo-dimensionalreality.JustaswithDungeonsofDaggorath,Iwasnowplayingasimulationwithinasimulation.Agamewithinagame.
...
Ihadseveralfalsestarts.Iwouldplayforanhour,oreventwo;thenI’dmakeonetinymistakeandI’dhavetorebootthemachineandstartallover.ButIwasnowonmyeighthattempt,andI’dbeenplayingforsixhoursstraight.Iwasrockin’likeDokken.ThisgamehadbeenIceman-perfectsofar.Two-hundredandfifty-fivescreensinandIstillhadn’tmadeasinglemistake.I’dmanagedtonailallfourghostswitheverysinglepowerpill(untiltheeighteenthmaze,whentheystopturningbluealtogether),andI’dsnaggedeverybonusfruit,bird,bell,andkeythathadappeared,withoutdyingonce.
Iwashavingthebestgameofmylife.Thiswasit.Icouldfeelit.Everythingwasfinallyfallingintoplace.Ihadtheglow.
Therewasaspotineachmaze,justabovethestartingposition,whereitwaspossibleto“hide”Pac-Manforuptofifteenminutes.Inthatlocation,theghostscouldn’tfindhim.Usingthistrick,I’dbeenabletotaketwoquickfoodandbathroombreaksduringthepastsixhours.
AsIchompedmywaythroughthe255thscreen,thesong“Pac-ManClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd222
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Fever”begantoblastoutofthegameroomstereo.Asmilecreptontomyface.Iknewthishadtobeasmalltip-of-the-hatfromHalliday.
Stickingtomytried-and-truepatternonelasttime,Iwhippedthejoystickright,slidintothesecretdoor,thenouttheoppositesideandstraightdowntosnagthelastfewremainingdots,clearingtheboard.Itookadeepbreathastheoutlineofthebluemazebegantopulsewhite.AndthenIsawit,staringmeintheface.Thefabledsplit-screen.Theendofthegame.
Then,intheworstcaseofbadtimingimaginable,aScoreboardalertflashedonmydisplay,justafewsecondsafterIbegantoplaythroughthefinalscreen.
Thetoptenrankingsappeared,superimposedovermyviewofthePac-Manscreen,andIglancedatthemjustlongenoughtoseethatAechhadnowbecomethesecondpersontofindtheJadeKey.Hisscorehadjustjumped19,000points,puttinghiminsecondplaceandknockingmeintothird.
Bysomemiracle,Imanagednottoflipout.IstayedfocusedonmyPac-Mangame.
Igrippedthejoysticktighter,refusingtoletthiswreckmyconcentration.Iwasnearlyfinished!Ionlyhadtomilkthefinal6,760possiblepointsfromthislastgarbledmazeandthenIwouldfinallyhavethehighscore.
MyheartpoundedintimewiththemusicasIclearedtheunblemishedlefthalfofthemaze.ThenIventuredintothetwistedterrainoftherighthalf,guidingPac-Manthroughthepixelatedon-screenrefuseofthegame’sdepletedmemory.Hiddenunderneathallofthosejunkspritesandgarbledgraphicswereninemoredots,worthtenpointseach.Icouldn’tseethem,butIhadtheirlocationsmemorized.Iquicklyfoundandateallnine,gaining90morepoints.ThenIturnedandranintothenearestghost—Clyde—
andcommittedPacicide,dyingforthefirsttimeinthegame.Pac-Manfrozeandwitheredintonothingnesswithanextendedbeeewup.
EachtimePac-Mandiedonthisfinalmaze,theninehiddendotsreappearedonthedeformedrighthalfofthescreen.Sotoachievethegame’smaximumpossiblescore,Ihadtofindandeateachofthosedotsfivemoretimes,oncewitheachofmyfiveremaininglives.
IdidmybestnottothinkaboutAech,whoIknewmustbeholdingtheJadeKeyatthatverymoment.Rightnow,hewasprobablyreadingwhatevercluewasetchedintoitssurface.
Ipulledthejoysticktotheright,weavingthroughthedigitaldebrisonefinaltime.Icouldhavedoneitblindfoldedbynow.Ifish-hookedaroundClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd223
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Pinkytograbthetwodotsnearthebottom,thenanotherthreeinthecenter,andthenthelastfournearthetop.
I’ddoneit.Ihadthenewhighscore:3,333,360points.Aperfectgame.
ItookmyhandsoffthecontrolsandwatchedasallfourghostsconvergedonPac-Man.gameoverflashedinthecenterofthemaze.
Iwaited.Nothinghappened.Afterafewseconds,thegame’sattractscreencamebackup,showingthefourghosts,theirnames,andtheirnicknames.
Mygazeshottothequartersittingontheedgeofthemarqueebrace.
Earlierithadbeenweldedinplace,unmovable.Butnowittumbledforwardandfellend-over-end,landingdirectlyinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.Thenitvanished,andamessageflashedonmydisplayinformingmethatthequarterhadautomaticallybeenaddedtomyinventory.WhenItriedtotakeitbackoutandexamineit,IfoundthatIcouldn’t.Thequartericonremainedinmyinventory.Icouldn’ttakeitoutordropit.
Ifthequarterhadanymagicalproperties,theyweren’trevealedinitsitemdescription,whichwascompletelyempty.Tolearnanythingmoreaboutthequarter,Iwouldhavetocastaseriesofhigh-leveldivinationspellsonit.Thatwouldtakedaysandrequirealotofexpensivespellcomponents,andeventhentherewasnoguaranteethespellswouldtellmeanything.
Butatthemoment,Iwashavingahardtimecaringallthatmuchaboutthemysteryoftheundroppablequarter.AllIcouldthinkaboutwasthatAechandArt3mishadnowbothbeatenmetotheJadeKey.AndgettingthehighscoreonthisPac-MangameonArchaideobviouslyhadn’tgottenmeanyclosertofindingitmyself.Ireallyhadbeenwastingmytimehere.
Iheadedbackuptotheplanet’ssurface.JustasIwassittingdownintheVonnegut’scockpit,ane-mailfromAecharrivedinmyinbox.IfeltmypulsequickenwhenIsawitssubjectline:PaybackTime.
Holdingmybreath,Iopenedthemessageandreadit:DearParzival,
YouandIareofficiallyevennow,gotthat?Iconsidermydebttoyouherebypaidinfull.
Betterhurry.TheSixersmustalreadybeontheirwaythere.
Goodluck,
Aech
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Belowhissignaturewasanimagefilehe’dattachedtothemessage.Itwasahigh-resolutionscanoftheinstructionmanualcoverforthetextadventuregameZork—theversionreleasedin1980byPersonalSoftwarefortheTRS-80ModelIII.
I’dplayedandsolvedZorkonce,alongtimeago,backduringthefirstyearoftheHunt.ButI’dalsoplayedhundredsofotherclassictextadventuregamesthatyear,includingallofZork’ssequels,andsomostofthedetailsofthegamehadnowfadedinmymemory.Mostoldtextadventuregameswereprettyself-explanatory,soI’dneveractuallybotheredtoreadtheZorkinstructionmanual.Inowknewthatthishadabeenacolossalmistake.
Onthemanual’scoverwasapaintingdepictingascenefromthegame.
Aswashbucklingadventurerwearingarmorandawingedhelmetstoodwithaglowingblueswordraisedoverhishead,preparingtostrikeatrollcoweringbeforehim.Theadventurerclutchedseveraltreasuresinhisotherhand,andmoretreasureslayathisfeet,scatteredamonghumanbones.Adark,fangedcreaturelurkedjustbehindthehero,gloweringma-levolently.
Allofthiswasinthepainting’sforeground,butmyeyeshadinstantlylockedon
whatwasinthebackground:alargewhitehouse,withitsfrontdoorandwindowsallboardedup.
Adwellinglongneglected.
Istaredattheimageafewmoreseconds,justlongenoughtocursemyselffornotmakingtheconnectiononmyown,monthsago.ThenIfiredtheVonnegut’senginesandsetacourseforanotherplanetinSectorSeven,notfarfromArchaide.ItwassmallworldcalledFrobozzthatwashometoadetailedre-creationofthegameZork.
Itwasalso,Inowknew,thehidingplaceoftheJadeKey.
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FrobozzwaslocatedinagroupofseveralhundredrarelyvisitedworldsknownastheXYZZYCluster.TheseplanetsalldatedbacktotheearlydaysoftheOASIS,andeachonere-createdtheenvironmentofsomeclassictextadventuregameorMUD(multi-userdungeon).Eachoftheseworldswasakindofshrine—aninteractivetributetotheOASIS’searliestancestors.
Textadventuregames(oftenreferredtoas“interactivefiction”bymodernscholars)usedtexttocreatethevirtualenvironmenttheplayerinhabited.Thegameprogramprovidedyouwithasimplewrittendescriptionofyoursurroundings,thenaskedwhatyouwantedtodonext.
Tomovearoundorinteractwithyourvirtualsurroundings,youkeyedintextcommandstellingthegamewhatyouwantedyouravatartodo.
Theseinstructionshadtobeverysimple,usuallycomposedofjusttwoorthreewords,suchas“gosouth”or“getsword.”Ifacommandwastoocomplex,thegame’ssimpleparsingenginewouldn’tbeabletounderstandit.Byreadingandtypingtext,youmadeyourwaythroughthevirtualworld,collectingtreasure,fightingmonsters,avoidingtraps,andsolvingpuzzlesuntilyoufinallyreached
theendofthegame.
ThefirsttextadventuregameI’deverplayedwascalledColossalCave,andinitiallythetext-onlyinterfacehadseemedincrediblysimpleandcrudetome.Butafterplayingforafewminutes,Iquicklybecameimmersedintherealitycreatedbythewordsonthescreen.Somehow,thegame’ssimpletwo-sentenceroomdescriptionswereabletoconjureupvividimagesinmymind’seye.
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Zorkwasoneoftheearliestandmostfamoustextadventuregames.
Accordingtomygraildiary,I’dplayedthegamethroughtotheendjustonce,allinoneday,overfouryearsago.Sincethen,inashockingdisplayofunforgivableignorance,I’dsomehowforgottentwoveryimportantdetailsaboutthegame:
1.Zorkbeganwithyourcharacterstandingoutsideashutteredwhitehouse.
2.Insidethelivingroomofthatwhitehousetherewasatrophycase.
Tocompletethegame,everytreasureyoucollectedhadtobereturnedtothelivingroomandplacedinsidethetrophycase.
Finally,therestoftheQuatrainmadesense.
ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey
inadwellinglongneglected
Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle
oncethetrophiesareallcollected
Decadesago,Zorkanditssequelshadallbeenlicensedandre-createdinsidetheOASISasstunningthree-dimensionalimmersivesimulationsalllocatedontheplanetFrobozz,whichwasnamedafteracharacterintheZorkuniverse.Sothedwellinglongneglected—theoneI’dbeentryingtolocateforthepastsixmonths—hadbeensittingrightoutintheopenonFrobozzthisentiretime.Hidinginplainsight.
...
Icheckedtheship’snavigationalcomputer.Travelingatlightspeed,itwouldtakemejustoverfifteenminutestoreachFrobozz.TherewasagoodchancetheSixerswouldbeatmethere.Iftheydid,therewouldprobablyalreadybeasmallarmadaofSixergunshipswaitinginorbitaroundtheplanetwhenIdroppedoutoflightspeed.Iwouldhavetofightmywaythroughthemtoreachthesurface,andtheneitherlosethem,ortrytofindtheJadeKeywiththemstillbreathingdownmyneck.Notagoodscenario.
Luckily,Ihadabackupplan.MyRingofTeleportation.Itwasoneofthemostvaluablemagicitemsinmyinventory,lootedfromthehoardofareddragonI’dslainonGygax.TheringallowedmyavatartoteleportClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd227
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onceamonth,toanylocationintheOASIS.Ionlyuseditindireemer-genciesasalast-ditchmeansofescape,orwhenIneededtogetsomewhereinabighurry.Likerightnow.
IquicklyprogrammedtheVonnegut’sonboardcomputertoautopilottheshiptoFrobozz.Iinstructedittoactivateitscloakingdeviceassoonasitdroppedoutofhyperspace,thenlocatemeontheplanet’ssurfaceandlandsomewherenearby.IfIwaslucky,theSixerswouldn’tdetectmyshipandblastitoutoftheskybeforeitcouldreachme.Iftheydid,I’dbestuckonFrobozzwithnowaytoleave,whiletheentireSixerarmyclosedinonme.
IengagedtheVonnegut’sautopilot,thenactivatedmyRingofTeleportationbyspeakingthecommandword,“Brundell.”Whentheringbegantoglow,IsaidthenameoftheplanetwhereIwishedtoteleport.AworldmapofFrobozzappearedonmydisplay.Itwasalargeworld,andliketheplanetMiddletown,itssurfacewascoveredwithhundredsofidenticalcopiesofthesamesimulation—inthiscase,re-creationsoftheZorkplayingfield.Therewere512copiesofit,tobeexact,whichmeanttherewere512whitehouses,spacedoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.IshouldbeabletoobtaintheJadeKeyatanyoneofthem,soIselectedoneofthecopiesatrandomonthemap.Myringemittedablindingflashoflight,andasplitsecondlatermyavatarwasthere,standingonthesurfaceofFrobozz.
IopenedmygraildiaryandlocatedmyoriginalnotesonhowtosolveZork.ThenIpulledupamapofthegame’splayingfieldandplaceditinthecornerofmydisplay.
Surveyingtheskies,Ididn’tseeanysignoftheSixers,butthatdidn’tmeantheyhadn’talreadyarrived.Sorrentoandhisunderlingshadprobablyjustteleportedtooneoftheotherplayingfields.EverybodyknewthattheSixershadalreadybeencampedoutinSectorSeven,waitingforthismoment.AssoonastheysawAech’sscoreincrease,theywouldhaveusedFyndoro’sTabletofFindingandlearnedthathewascurrentlyonFrobozz.WhichmeanttheentireSixerarmadawouldalreadybeonitswayhere.SoIneededtogettothekeyasquicklyaspossible,thengetthehellofoutDodge.
Itookalookaround.Mysurroundingswereeerilyfamiliar.
TheopeningtextdescriptioninthegameZorkreadasfollows:Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd228
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WESTOFHOUSE
Youarestandinginanopenfieldwestofawhitehouse,withaboardedfrontdoor.Thereisasmallmailboxhere.
>
Myavatarnowstoodinthatopenfield,justwestofthewhitehouse.
ThefrontdooroftheoldVictorianmansionwasboardedup,andtherewasamailboxjustafewyardsawayfromme,attheendofthewalkwayleadingtothehouse.Thehousewassurroundedbyadenseforest,andbeyonditIsawarangeofjaggedmountainpeaks.Glancingofftomyleft,Ispottedapathleadingtothenorth,rightwhereIknewitshouldbe.
Iranaroundtothebackofthehouse.Ifoundasmallwindowthere,slightlyajar,andIforceditopenandclimbedinside.Asexpected,Ifoundmyselfinthekitchen.Awoodentablesatinthecenteroftheroom,andonitrestedalongbrownsackandabottleofwater.Achimneystoodnearby,andastaircaseleduptotheattic.Ahallwayofftomyleftledtothelivingroom.Justlikethegame.
Butthekitchenalsocontainedthingsthatweren’tmentionedinthegame’stextdescriptionofthisroom.Astove,arefrigerator,severalwoodenchairs,asink,andafewrowsofkitchencabinets.Iopenedthefridge.Itwasfullofjunkfood.Fossilizedpizza,snackpuddings,lunchmeat,andawidearrayofcondimentpackets.Icheckedthecupboards.
Theywerefilledwithcannedanddrygoods.Rice,pasta,soup.
Andcereal.
Oneentirecupboardwascrammedwithboxesofvintagebreakfastcereals,mostofwhichhadbeendiscontinuedbeforeI’dbeenborn.FruitLoops,Honeycombs,LuckyCharms,CountChocula,Quisp,FrostedFlakes.AndhiddenwayatthebackwasaloneboxofCap’nCrunch.
Printedclearlyonthefrontofitwerethewordsfreetoywhistleinside!
ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey.
Idumpedthecontentsoftheboxoutonthecounter,scatteringgoldencerealnuggetseverywhere.ThenIspottedit—asmallplasticwhistleencasedinaclearcellophaneenvelope.Itoreoffthecellophaneandheldthewhistleinmyhand.Itwasyellowincolor,withthecartoonfaceofCap’nCrunchmoldedononesideandasmalldogontheother.Thewordscap’ncrunchbo’sunwhistlewereembossedoneitherside.
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Iraisedthewhistletomyavatar’slipsandblewintoit.Butthewhistleemittednosound,andnothinghappened.
Youcanonlyblowthewhistleoncethetrophiesareallcollected.
Ipocketedthewhistleandopenedthesackonthekitchentable.Isawacloveofgarlicinside,andIaddedittomyinventory.ThenIranwest,intothelivingroom.ThefloorwascoveredwithalargeOrientalrug.Antiquefurniture,thekindI’dseeninfilmsfromthe1940s,waspositionedaroundtheroom.Awoodendoorwithoddcharacterscarvedintoitssurfacewassetintothewestwall.Andagainsttheoppositewalltherewasabeautifulglasstrophycase.Itwasempty.Abattery-poweredlanternsatontopofthecase,andashiningswordwasmountedonthewalldirectlyaboveit.
Itooktheswordandthelantern,thenrolleduptheOrientalrug,uncoveringthetrapdoorIalreadyknewwashiddenunderneath.Iopenedit,revealingastaircasethatleddownintoadarkenedcellar.
Iturnedonthelamp.AsIdescendedthestaircase,myswordbegantoglow.
...
IcontinuedtorefertotheZorknotesinmygraildiary,whichremindedme
exactlyhowtomakemywaythroughthegame’slabyrinthofrooms,passageways,andpuzzles.Icollectedallnineteenofthegame’streasuresasIwent,returningrepeatedlytothelivingroominthewhitehousetoplacetheminthetrophycase,afewatatime.Alongtheway,IhadtodobattlewithseveralNPCs:atroll,aCyclops,andareallyannoyingthief.Asforthelegendarygrue,lurkinginthedark,waitingtodineonmyflesh—Isimplyavoidedhim.
AsidefromtheCap’nCrunchwhistlehiddeninthekitchen,Ifoundnosurprisesordeviationsfromtheoriginalgame.Tosolvethisimmersivethree-dimensionalversionofZork,Isimplyhadtoperformtheexactsameactionsrequiredtosolvetheoriginaltext-basedgame.Byrunningattopspeedandbyneverstoppingtosightseeorsecond-guessmyself,Imanagedtocompletethegameintwenty-twominutes.
ShortlyafterIcollectedthelastofthegame’snineteentreasures,atinybrassbauble,anoticeflashedinmydisplayinformingmethattheVonneguthadarrivedoutside.Theautopilothadjustlandedtheshipinthefieldtothewestofthewhitehouse.ItscloakingdevicewasstillengagedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd230
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anditsshieldswereup.IftheSixerswerealreadyhere,inorbitaroundtheplanet,Iwashopingtheyhadn’tspottedmyship.
Iranbacktothelivingroomofthewhitehouseonelasttimeandplacedthefinaltreasureinsidethetrophycase.Justasintheoriginalgame,amapappearedinsidethecase,directingmetoahiddenbarrowthatmarkedtheendofthegame.ButIwasn’tconcernedwiththemaporwithfinishingthegame.Allofthe“trophies”werenow“collected”inthecase,soItookouttheCap’nCrunchwhistle.Ithadthreeholesacrossthetop,andIcoveredthethirdonetogeneratethe2600-hertztonethathadmadethiswhistlefamousintheannalsofhackerhistory.ThenIblewoneclear,shrillnote.
Thewhistletransformedintoasmallkey,andmyscoreonthescore-boardincreasedby18,000points.
Iwasbackinsecondplace,amere1,000pointsaheadofAech.
Asecondlater,theentireZorksimulationresetitself.Thenineteenitemsinthetrophycasevanished,returningtotheiroriginallocations,andtherestofthehouseandthegame’splayingfieldreturnedtothesamestateinwhichI’dfoundthem.
AsIstaredatthekeyinthepalmofmyhand,Ifeltabriefjoltofpanic.
Thekeywassilver,notthemilkygreencolorofjade.ButwhenIturnedthekeyoverandexamineditmoreclosely,Isawthatitactuallyappearedtobewrappedinsilverfoil,likeastickofgumorabarofchocolate.Icarefullypeeledthewrapperaway,andakeymadeofpolishedgreenstonewasrevealedinside.
TheJadeKey.
AndjustliketheCopperKey,Isawthatithadaclueetchedintoitssurface:
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest
Irereaditseveraltimes,buthadnoimmediaterevelationsastoitsmeaning,soIplacedthekeyinmyinventory,thenexaminedthewrapper.
Itwassilverfoilononesideandwhitepaperontheother.Ididn’tseeanymarkingsoneitherside.
Justthen,IheardthemuffledroarofapproachingspacecraftandknewitmustbetheSixers.Itsoundedliketheywerehereinforce.
Ipocketedthewrapperandranoutofthehouse.Overhead,thousandsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd231
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ofSixergunshipsfilledtheskylikeanangryswarmofmetalwasps.Theshipswereseparatingintosmallgroupsastheydescended,headingoffindifferent
directions,asiftoblankettheentiresurfaceoftheplanet.
Ididn’tthinktheSixerswouldbefoolishenoughtotrytobarricadeall512instancesofthewhitehouse.ThatstrategyhadworkedforthemonLudus,butonlyforafewhours,andthey’donlyhadonelocationtobarricade.TheentireplanetofFrobozzwasinaPvPzone,andbothmagicandtechnologyfunctionedhere,whichmeantthatallbetswereoff.Therewouldbehordesofguntersarrivingheresoon,armedtotheteeth,andiftheSixerstriedtokeepallofthematbay,itwouldmeanwaronascaleneverbeforeseeninthehistoryoftheOASIS.
AsIcontinuedrunningacrossthefieldanduptherampofmyship,Ispottedalargesquadronofgunships,aboutahundredorso,descendingfromtheskydirectlyabovemylocation.Theyappearedtobeheadedstraightforme.
MaxhadalreadypowereduptheVonnegut’sengines,soIshoutedforhimtoliftoffassoonasIwasaboard.WhenIreachedthecockpitcontrols,Ithrewthethrottlewideopen,andthedescendingswarmofSixergunshipsbankedhardtofollowme.Asmyshipblasteditswayskyward,Ibegantotakeheavyfirefromseveraldirections.ButIwaslucky.Myshipwasfast,andmyshieldsweretop-of-the-line,sotheymanagedtoholduplongenoughformetoreachorbit.Buttheyfailedafewsecondslater,andtheVonnegut’shullsufferedanalarmingamountofdamageinthehandfulofsecondsittookmetomakethejumptolightspeed.
Itwasaclosecall.Thebastardsalmostgotme.
...
Myshipwasinbadshape,soinsteadofreturningdirectlytomystronghold,IheadedtoJoe’sGarage,anorbitalstarshiprepairshopoverinSectorTen.Joe’swasanhonestNPC-operatedestablishment,withreasonableratesandlightning-fastservice.IusedthemwhenevertheVonnegutneededrepairsorupgrades.
WhileJoeandhisboysworkedonmyship,IsentAechabriefe-mailtosaythanks.Itoldhimthatwhateverdebthefeltheowedmewasnowmostdefinitelypaidinfull.Ialsocoppedtobeingacolossallyinsensitive,self-centeredassholeandbeggedhimtoforgiveme.
Assoonastherepairstomyshipwerefinished,Iheadedbacktomy
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stronghold.ThenIspenttherestofthedaygluedtothenewsfeeds.ThewordaboutFrobozzwasout,andeverygunterwiththemeanshadalreadyteleportedthere.Thousandsofotherswerearrivingbyspacecrafteveryminute,todobattlewiththeSixersandsecuretheirowncopyoftheJadeKey.
Thenewsfeedswereairinglivecoverageofthehundredsoflarge-scalebattlesbreakingoutonFrobozz,aroundnearlyeveryinstanceofthe
“dwellinglongneglected.”ThebiggunterclanshadonceagainbandedtogethertolaunchacoordinatedattackontheSixers’forces.ItwasthebeginningofwhatwouldcometobeknownastheBattleofFrobozz,andcasualtieswerealreadymountingonbothsides.
IalsokeptacloseeyeontheScoreboard,waitingtoseeevidencethattheSixershadbeguntocollectcopiesoftheJadeKeywhiletheirforcesheldtheoppositionatbay.AsIfeared,thenextscoretoincreasewastheonebesideSorrento’sIOIemployeenumber.Itjumped17,000points,movinghimintofourthplace.
NowthattheSixersknewexactlywhereandhowtoobtaintheJadeKey,Iexpectedtoseetheirotheravatars’scoresbegintojumpasSorrento’sunderlingsfollowedhislead.Buttomysurprise,thenextavatartosnagtheJadeKeywasnoneotherthanShoto.HediditlessthantwentyminutesafterSorrento.
Somehow,ShotohadmanagedtoevadethehordesofSixerscurrentlyswarmingallovertheplanet,enteraninstanceofthewhitehouse,collectallnineteenoftherequiredtreasures,andobtainhiscopyofthekey.
IcontinuedtowatchtheScoreboard,expectingtoseehisbrotherDaito’sscoreincreaseaswell.Butthatneverhappened.
Instead,afewminutesafterShotoobtainedhiscopyofthekey,Daito’sname
disappearedfromtheScoreboardentirely.Therewasonlyonepossibleexplanation:Daitohadjustbeenkilled.
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Overthenexttwelvehours,chaoscontinuedtoreignonFrobozzaseverygunterintheOASISscrambledtoreachtheplanetandjointhefray.
TheSixershaddispersedtheirgrandarmyacrosstheglobeinaboldattempttoblockadeall512copiesoftheZorkplayingfield.Buttheirforces,asvastandwell-equippedastheywere,werespreadfartoothinthistime.
OnlysevenmoreoftheiravatarsmanagedtoobtaintheJadeKeythatday.
AndwhenthegunterclansbegantheircoordinatedattackontheSixers’forces,the“boobsinblue”begantosufferheavycasualtiesandwereforcedtopullback.
Withinamatterofhours,theSixerhighcommanddecidedtodeployanewstrategy.Ithadquicklybecomeobviousthattheywouldn’tbeabletomaintainoverfivehundreddifferentblockadesorfendoffthemassiveinfluxofgunters.SotheyregroupedalloftheirforcesaroundtenadjacentinstancesoftheZorkplayingfieldneartheplanet’ssouthpole.Theyinstalledpowerfulforceshieldsovereachofthemandstationedarmoredbattalionsoutsidetheshieldwalls.
Thisscaled-downstrategyworked,andtheSixers’forcesprovedsufficienttoholdthosetenlocationsandpreventanyotherguntersfromgettinginside(andtherewasn’tmuchreasonforothergunterstotry,sinceoverfivehundredotherinstancesofZorknowstoodwideopenandun-protected).NowthattheSixerscouldoperateundisturbed,theybasicallyformedtenlinesofavatarsoutsideeachwhitehouseandbegantorunthemClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd234
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throughtheprocessofobtainingtheJadeKey,oneafteranother.Everyonecouldplainlyseewhattheyweredoing,becausethedigitsbesideeachIOIemployeenumberontheScoreboardbegantoincreaseby15,000points.
Atthesametime,hundredsofgunterscoreswereincreasingaswell.
NowthatthelocationoftheJadeKeywaspublicknowledge,decipheringtheQuatrainandfiguringouthowtoobtainthekeywasrelativelyeasy.ItwasthereforthetakingtoanyonewhohadalreadyclearedtheFirstGate.
AstheBattleofFrobozzdrewtoaclose,therankingsontheScoreboardstoodlikethis:
HIGHSCORES:
1.Art3mis
129,000
2.Parzival
128,000
3.Aech
127,000
4.IOI-655321
122,000
5.Shoto
122,000
6.IOI-643187
120,000
7.IOI-621671
120,000
8.IOI-678324
120,000
9.IOI-637330
120,000
10.IOI-699423
120,000
EventhoughShotohadmatchedSorrento’sscoreof122,000points,Sorrentohadachievedthatscorefirst,whichmustbethereasonhe’dremainedinthehigherslot.TherelativelysmallpointbonusesArt3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIhadreceivedforbeingthefirsttoreachtheCopperandJadekeyswerewhatkeptournamesinthehallowed“HighFive”slots.
Sorrentohadnowearnedoneofthesebonusestoo.SeeinghisIOIemployeenumberaboveShoto’snamemademecringe.
Scrollingdown,IsawthattheScoreboardwasnowoverfivethousandnameslong,withmorebeingaddedeveryhourasnewavatarsfinallymanagedtodefeatAcererakatJoustandcollecttheirowninstanceoftheCopperKey.
NooneonthemessageboardsseemedtoknowwhathadhappenedtoDaito,butthecommonassumptionwasthathe’dbeenkilledbytheSixersduringthefirstfewminutesoftheBattleofFrobozz.RumorsaboutClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd235
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exactlyhowhehaddiedwererunningrampant,butnoonehadactuallybeenwitnesstohisdemise.ExceptformaybeShoto,andhe’dvanished.Isenthimafewchatrequests,butgotnoreply.Likeme,IassumedhewasfocusingallofhisenergyonfindingtheSecondGatebeforetheSixersdid.
...
Isatinmystronghold,staringattheJadeKeyandrecitingthewordsetchedintoitsspine,overandover,likeamaddeningmantra:
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest
Yes,butwhattest?WhattestwasIsupposedtotake?TheKobayashiMaru?ThePepsiChallenge?Couldthecluehavebeenanymorevague?
Ireachedundermyvisorandrubbedmyeyesinfrustration.IdecidedIneededtotakeabreakandgetsomesleep.Ipulledupmyavatar’sinventoryandplacedtheJadeKeybackinside.AsIdid,Inoticedthesilverfoilwrapperintheinventoryslotbesideit—thewrapperthathadcoveredtheJadeKeywhenitfirstappearedinmyhand.
Iknewthesecrettodecipheringtheriddlemustinvolvethewrapperinsomeway,butIstillcouldn’tsortouthow.IwonderedifitmightbeareferencetoWillyWonkaandtheChocolateFactory,butthendecidedagainstit.Therehadn’tbeenanygoldenticketinsidethewrapper.Itmusthavesomeotherpurposeormeaning.
IstaredatthewrapperandponderedthisuntilIcouldnolongerkeepmyeyesopen.ThenIloggedoutandwenttosleep.
Afewhourslater,at6:12a.m.OST,Iwasjoltedawakebythegut-wrenchingsoundofmyScoreboardalarmalertingmethatoneofthetoprankingshadchangedagain.
Filledwithagrowingsenseofdread,IloggedinandpulleduptheScoreboard,unsureofwhattoexpect.MaybeArt3mishadfinallyclearedGateTwo?OrperhapsAechorShotohadachievedthathonor.
Butalloftheirscoresremainedunchanged.Tomyhorror,IsawthatitwasSorrento’sscorethathadincreased,by200,000points.Andtwogateiconsnowappearedbesideit.
SorrentohadjustbecomethefirstpersontofindandcleartheSec-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd236
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ondGate.Asaresult,hisavatarnowstoodinfirstplace,atthetopoftheScoreboard.
Isattherefrozen,staringatSorrento’semployeenumber,silentlyweighingtherepercussionsofwhathadjusthappened.
Uponexitingthegate,SorrentowouldhavebeengivenaclueastothelocationoftheCrystalKey.Thekeythatwouldopenthethirdandfinalgate.SonowtheSixersweretheonlyoneswhopossessedthatclue.WhichmeanttheywerenowclosertofindingHalliday’sEastereggthananyonehadeverbeen.
Isuddenlyfeltill,andIwasalsohavingadifficulttimebreathing.IrealizedImustbehavingsomesortofpanicattack.Atotalandcompletefreak-out.Amassivementalmeltdown.Whateveryouwanttocallit.Iwentalittlenuts.
ItriedcallingAech,buthedidn’tpickup.Eitherhewasstillpissedoffatme,orhehadother,morepressingmatterstoattendto.IwasabouttocallShoto,butthenIrememberedthathisbrother’savatarhadjustbeenkilled.Heprobablywasn’tinaveryreceptivemood.
IconsideredflyingtoBenatartotrytogetArt3mistotalktome,butthenIcametomysenses.She’dhadtheJadeKeyinherpossessionforseveraldays,andshestillhadn’tbeenabletocleartheSecondGate.LearningthattheSixershaddoneitinlessthantwenty-fourhourshadprobablydrivenherintoapsychoticrage.Ormaybeacatatonicstupor.Sheprobablydidn’tfeelliketalkingtoanyonerightnow,leastofallme.
Itriedcallingheranyway.Asusual,shedidn’tanswer.
IwassodesperatetohearafamiliarvoicethatIresortedtotalkingtoMax.Inmycurrentstate,evenhisglibcomputer-generatedvoicewassomehowcomforting.Ofcourse,itdidn’ttakelongforMaxtorunoutofpreprogrammedreplies;andwhenhestartedtorepeathimselftheillusionthatIwastalkingtoanotherpersonwasshattered,andIfeltevenmorealone.Youknowyou’vetotallyscrewedupyourlifewhenyourwholeworldturnstoshitandtheonlypersonyouhavetotalktoisyoursystemagentsoftware.
Icouldn’tgobacktosleep,soIstayedupwatchingthenewsfeedsandscanningtheguntermessageboards.TheSixerarmadaremainedonFrobozz,andtheiravatarswerestillfarmingcopiesoftheJadeKey.
Sorrentohadobviouslylearnedfromhispreviousmistake.NowthattheSixersaloneknewthelocationoftheSecondGate,theyweren’tgoingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd237
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tobestupidenoughtorevealitslocationtotheworldbytryingtobarricadeitwiththeirarmada.Buttheywerestilltakingfulladvantageofthesituation.Asthedayprogressed,theSixerscontinuedtowalkadditionalavatarsthroughtheSecondGate.AfterSorrentomadeitthrough,anothertenSixerscleareditduringthefollowingtwenty-fourhours.AseachSixerscoreincreasedby200,000points,Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIwereallpushedfartherandfartherdowntheScoreboarduntilwe’dbeenknockedoutofthetoptenentirely,andtheScoreboard’smainpagedisplayednothingbutIOIemployeenumbers.
TheSixersnowruledtheroost.
Then,whenIwassurethingscouldn’tpossiblygetanyworse,theydid.
Theygotmuch,muchworse.TwodaysafterheclearedtheSecondGate,Sorrento’sscorejumpedanother30,000points,indicatingthathehadjustacquiredtheCrystalKey.
Isatthereinmystronghold,staringatthemonitors,watchingallofthisunfoldinstunnedhorror.Therewasnodenyingit.Theendofthecontestwasathand.Anditwasn’tgoingtoendlikeI’dalwaysthoughtitwould,withsomenoble,worthygunterfindingtheeggandwinningtheprize.I’dbeenkiddingmyselfforthepastfiveandahalfyears.Weallhad.
Thisstorywasnotgoingtohaveahappyending.Thebadguysweregoingtowin.
Ispentthenexttwenty-fourhoursinafranticfunk,obsessivelycheckingtheScoreboardeveryfiveseconds,expectingtheendtocomeatanymoment.
Sorrento,oroneofhismany“Hallidayexperts,”hadobviouslybeenabletodeciphertheriddleandlocatetheSecondGate.ButeventhoughtheproofwasrightthereontheScoreboard,Istillhadahardtimebelievingit.Upuntilnow,theSixershadonlymadeprogressbytrackingArt3mis,Aech,orme.HowhadthosesamecluelessasshatsfoundtheSecondGateontheirown?Maybethey’djustgottenlucky.Orperhapsthey’ddiscoveredsomenewandinnovativewaytocheat.Howelsecouldtheyhavesolvedtheriddlesoquickly,whenArt3mishadn’tbeenabletodoitwithseveraldays’headstart?
MybrainfeltlikehammeredPlay-Doh.Icouldn’tmakeanysenseoftheclueprintedontheJadeKey.Iwascompletelyoutofideas.Evenlameones.Ididn’t
knowwhattodoorwheretolooknext.
Asthenightwenton,theSixerscontinuedtoacquirecopiesoftheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd238
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CrystalKey.Eachtimeoneoftheirscoresincreaseditwaslikeaknifeinmyheart.ButIcouldn’tmakemyselfstopcheckingtheScoreboard.Iwasutterlytransfixed.
Ifeltmyselfinchingtowardcompletehopelessness.Myeffortsoverthepastfiveyearshadbeenfornothing.I’dfoolishlyunderestimatedSorrentoandtheSixers.AndIwasabouttopaytheultimatepriceformyhubris.Thosesoullesscorporatelackeyswereclosinginontheeggatthisverymoment.Icouldsenseit,witheveryfiberofmybeing.
I’dalreadylostArt3mis,andnowIwasgoingtolosethecontest,too.
I’dalreadydecidedwhatIwasgoingtodowhenithappened.First,Iwouldchooseoneofthekidsinmyofficialfanclub,someonewithnomoneyandafirst-levelnewbieavatar,andgivehereveryitemIowned.
ThenIwouldactivatetheself-destructsequenceonmystrongholdandsitinmycommandcenterwhilethewholeplacewentupinamassivethermonuclearexplosion.Myavatarwoulddieandgameoverwouldappearinthecenterofmydisplay.ThenIwouldripoffmyvisorandleavemyapartmentforthefirsttimeinsixmonths.Iwouldridetheelevatoruptotheroof.OrmaybeIwouldeventakethestairs.Getalittleexercise.
Therewasanarboretumontheroofofmyapartmentbuilding.Ihadnevervisitedit,butI’dseenphotosandadmiredtheviewviawebcam.AtransparentPlexiglasbarrierhadbeeninstalledaroundtheledgetokeeppeoplefromjumping,butitwasajoke.AtleastthreedeterminedindividualshadmanagedtoclimboveritsinceI’dmovedin.
Iwouldsitupthereandbreathetheunfilteredcityairforawhile,feelingthewindonmyskin.ThenIwouldscalethebarrierandhurlmyselfovertheside.
Thiswasmycurrentplan.
IwastryingtodecidewhattuneIshouldwhistleasIplummetedtomydeathwhenmyphonerang.ItwasShoto.Iwasn’tinthemoodtotalk,soIlethiscallrolltovidmail,thenwatchedasShotorecordedhismessage.Itwasbrief.Hesaidheneededtocometomystrongholdtogivemesomething.SomethingDaitohadlefttomeinhiswill.
WhenIreturnedhiscalltoarrangeameeting,IcouldtellShotowasanemotionalwreck.Hisquietvoicewasfilledwithpain,andthedepthofhisdespairwasapparentonthefeaturesofhisavatar’sface.Heseemedutterlydespondent.InevenworseshapethanIwas.
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IaskedShotowhyhisbrotherhadbotheredtomakeouta“will”forhisavatar,insteadofjustleavinghispossessionsinShoto’scare.ThenDaitocouldsimplycreateanewavatarandreclaimtheitemshisbrotherwasholdingforhim.ButShototoldmethathisbrotherwouldnotbecreatinganewavatar.Notnow,orever.WhenIaskedwhy,hepromisedtoexplainwhenhesawmeinperson.
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0025
MaxalertedmewhenShotoarrivedanhourorsolater.IgrantedhisshipclearancetoenterFalco’sairspaceandtoldhimtoparkinmyhangar.
Shoto’svesselwasalargeinterplanetarytrawlernamedtheKurosawa,modeledafterashipcalledtheBebopintheclassicanimeseriesCowboyBebop.DaitoandShotohaduseditastheirmobilebaseofoperationsforaslongasI’dknownthem.Theshipwassobigthatitbarelyfitthroughmyhangardoors.
IwasstandingontherunwaytogreetShotoasheemergedfromtheKurosawa.Hewasdressedinblackmourningrobes,andhisfaceborethesameinconsolableexpressionI’dseenwhenwespokeonthephone.
“Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.
“Shoto-san.”Ireturnedthebowrespectfully,thenstretchedoutmypalm,agestureherecognizedfromthetimewe’dspentquestingtogether.
Grinning,hereachedoutandslippedmesomeskin.Butthenhisdarkexpressionimmediatelyresurfaced.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’dseenShotosincethequestwe’dsharedonTokusatsu(notcountingthose“DaishoEnergyDrink”commercialsheandhisbrotherappearedin),andhisavatarseemedtobeafewinchestallerthanIremembered.
Iledhimuptooneofmystronghold’srarelyused“sittingrooms,”are-creationofthelivingroomsetfromFamilyTies.Shotorecognizedthedecorandnoddedhissilentapproval.Then,ignoringthefurniture,heseatedhimselfinthecenterofthefloor.Hesatseiza-style,foldinghislegsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd241
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underhisthighs.Ididthesame,positioningmyselfsothatouravatarsfacedeachother.Wesatinsilenceforawhile.WhenShotowasfinallyreadytospeak,hekepthiseyesonthefloor.
“TheSixerskilledmybrotherlastnight,”hesaid,almostwhispering.
Atfirst,Iwastoostunnedtoreply.“Youmeantheykilledhisavatar?”Iasked,eventhoughIcouldalreadytellthatwasn’twhathemeant.
Shotoshookhishead.“No.Theybrokeintohisapartment,pulledhimoutofhishapticchair,andthrewhimoffhisbalcony.Helivedontheforty-thirdfloor.”
Shotoopenedabrowserwindowintheairbesideus.ItdisplayedaJapanesenewsfeedarticle.Itappeditwithmyindexfinger,andtheMandaraxsoftwaretranslatedthetexttoEnglish.Theheadlinewasanotherotakusuicide.Thebriefarticlebelowsaidthatayoungman,ToshiroYoshiaki,agetwenty-two,hadjumpedtohisdeathfromhisapartment,locatedontheforty-thirdfloorofaconvertedhotelinShinjuku,Tokyo,wherehelivedalone.IsawaschoolphotoofToshirobesidethearticle.
HewasayoungJapanesemanwithlong,unkempthairandbadskin.Hedidn’tlookanythinglikehisOASISavatar.
WhenShotosawthatI’dfinishedreading,heclosedthewindow.Ihesitatedamomentbeforeasking,“Areyousurehedidn’treallycommitsuicide?Becausehisavatarhadbeenkilled?”
“No,”Shotosaid.“Daitodidnotcommitseppuku.I’msureofit.TheSixersbrokeintohisapartmentwhilewewereengagedincombatwiththemonFrobozz.That’showtheywereabletodefeathisavatar.Bykillinghim,intherealworld.”
“I’msorry,Shoto.”Ididn’tknowwhatelsetosay.Iknewhewastellingthetruth.
“MyrealnameisAkihide,”hesaid.“Iwantyoutoknowmytruename.”
Ismiled,thenbowed,brieflypressingmyforeheadtothefloor.“Iappreciateyourtrustingmewithyourtruename,”Isaid.“MytruenameisWade.”Icouldnolongerseethepointinkeepingsecrets.
“Thankyou,Wade,”Shotosaid,returningthebow.
“You’rewelcome,Akihide.”
Hewassilentforamoment;thenheclearedhisthroatandbegantotalkaboutDaito.Thewordspouredoutofhim.Itwasobviousheneededtotalktosomeoneaboutwhathadhappened.Aboutwhathe’dlost.
“Daito’srealnamewasToshiroYoshiaki.Ididn’tevenknowthatuntillastnight,untilIsawthenewsarticle.”
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“But...Ithoughtyouwerehisbrother?”I’dalwaysassumedthatDaitoandShotolivedtogether.Thattheysharedanapartmentorsomething.
“MyrelationshipwithDaitoisdifficulttoexplain.”Hestoppedtoclearhisthroat.“Wewerenotbrothers.Notinreallife.JustintheOASIS.Doyouunderstand?Weonlykneweachotheronline.Ineveractuallymethim.”Heslowlyraisedhiseyestomeetmygaze,toseeifIwasjudginghim.
Ireachedoutandrestedahandonhisshoulder.“Believeme,Shoto.
Iunderstand.AechandArt3misaremytwobestfriends,andI’venevermeteitheroftheminreallifeeither.Infact,youareoneofmyclosestfriendstoo.”
Hebowedhishead.“Thankyou.”Icouldtellbyhisvoicethathewascryingnow.
“We’regunters,”Isaid,tryingtofilltheawkwardsilence.“Welivehere,intheOASIS.Forus,thisistheonlyrealitythathasanymeaning.”
Akihidenodded.Afewmomentslaterhecontinuedtotalk.
HetoldmehowheandToshirohadmet,sixyearsago,whentheywerebothenrolledinanOASISsupportgroupforhikikomori,youngpeoplewhohadwithdrawnfromsocietyandchosentoliveintotalisolation.
Hikikomorilockedthemselvesinaroom,readmanga,andcruisedtheOASISallday,relyingontheirfamiliestobringthemfood.TherehadbeenhikikomoriinJapansincebackbeforetheturnofthecentury,buttheirnumberhadskyrocketedafterthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan.Millionsofyoung
menandwomenalloverthecountryhadlockedthemselvesawayfromtheworld.Theysometimescalledthesechildrenthe“missingmillions.”
AkihideandToshirobecamebestfriendsandspentalmosteverydayhangingouttogetherintheOASIS.WhenthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan,they’dimmediatelydecidedtojoinforcesandsearchforittogether.Theymadeaperfectteam,becauseToshirowasaprodigyatvideogames,whilethemuchyoungerAkihidewaswellversedinAmericanpopculture.Akihide’sgrandmotherhadattendedschoolintheUnitedStates,andbothofhisparentshadbeenbornthere,soAkihidehadbeenraisedonAmericanmoviesandtelevision,andhe’dgrownuplearningtospeakEnglishandJapaneseequallywell.
AkihideandToshiro’smutualloveofsamuraimoviesservedastheinspirationfortheiravatars’namesandappearances.ShotoandDaitohadgrownsoclosethattheywerenowlikebrothers,sowhentheycre-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd243
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atedtheirnewgunteridentities,theydecidedthatintheOASIStheywerebrothers,fromthatmomenton.
AfterShotoandDaitoclearedtheFirstGateandbecamefamous,theygaveseveralinterviewswiththemedia.Theykepttheiridentitiesasecret,buttheydidrevealthattheywerebothJapanese,whichmadetheminstantcelebritiesinJapan.TheybegantoendorseJapaneseproductsandhadacartoonandalive-actionTVseriesbasedontheirexploits.Attheheightoftheirfame,ShotohadsuggestedtoDaitothatperhapsitwastimeforthemtomeetinperson.DaitohadflownintoarageandstoppedspeakingtoShotoforseveraldays.Afterthat,Shotohadneversuggesteditagain.
Eventually,ShotoworkedhiswayuptotellingmehowDaito’savatarhaddied.ThetwoofthemhadbeenaboardtheKurosawa,cruisingbetweenplanetsinSectorSeven,whentheScoreboardinformedthemthatAechhadobtainedtheJadeKey.Whenthathappened,theyknewtheSixerswoulduseFyndoro’s
TabletofFindingtopinpointAech’sexactlocationandthattheirshipswouldsoonbeconvergingonit.
Inpreparationforthis,DaitoandShotohadspentthepastfewweeksplantingmicroscopictrackingdevicesonthehullsofeverySixergunshiptheycouldfind.Usingthesedevices,theywereabletofollowthegunshipswhentheyallabruptlychangedcourseandheadedforFrobozz.
AssoonasShotoandDaitolearnedthatFrobozzwastheSixers’destination,they’deasilydecipheredthemeaningoftheQuatrain.AndbythetimetheyreachedFrobozz,justafewminuteslater,they’dalreadyfiguredoutwhattheyneededtodotoobtaintheJadeKey.
TheylandedtheKurosawanexttoaninstanceofthewhitehousethatwasstilldeserted.Shotoraninsidetocollectthenineteentreasuresandgetthekey,whileDaitoremainedoutsidetostandguard.Shotoworkedquickly,andheonlyhadtwotreasureslefttocollectwhenDaitoinformedhimbycomlinkthattenSixergunshipswereclosinginontheirlocation.HetoldhisbrothertohurryandpromisedtoholdofftheenemyuntilShotohadtheJadeKey.Neitherofthemknewifthey’dhaveanotherchancetoreachit.
AsShotoscrambledtogetthelasttwotreasuresandplacetheminthetrophycase,heremotelyactivatedoneoftheKurosawa’sexternalcamerasandusedittorecordashortvideoofDaito’sconfrontationwiththeapproachingSixers.Shotoopenedawindowandplayedthisvideoclipforme.Butheavertedhiseyesuntilitwasover.Heobviouslyhadnodesiretowatchitagain.
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Onthevidfeed,IsawDaitostandingaloneinthefieldbesidethewhitehouse.AsmallfleetofSixergunshipswasdescendingoutofthesky,andtheybegantofiretheirlasercannonsassoonastheywerewithinrange.AhailstormoffieryredboltsbegantoraindownallaroundDaito.Behindhim,inthedistance,IcouldseemoreSixergunshipssettingdown,andeachonewasoff-loadingsquadrons
ofpower-armoredgroundtroops.
Daitowassurrounded.
TheSixershadobviouslyspottedtheKurosawaduringitsdescenttotheplanet’ssurface,andthey’dmadekillingthetwosamuraiapriority.
Daitodidn’thesitatetousetheaceuphissleeve.HepulledouttheBetaCapsule,helditaloftinhisrighthand,andactivatedit.HisavatarinstantlychangedintoUltraman,aglowing-eyedred-and-silveraliensuperhero.Ashisavatartransformed,healsogrewtoaheightof156feet.
TheSixergroundforcesclosinginonhimfrozeintheirtracks,staringupinfrightenedaweasUltramanDaitosnatchedtwogunshipsoutoftheskyandsmashedthemtogether,likeagiantchildplayingwithtwotinymetaltoys.HedroppedtheflamingwreckagetothegroundandbegantoswatotherSixergunshipsoutoftheskylikebothersomeflies.Theshipsthatescapedhisdeadlygraspbankedaroundandsprayedhimwithlaserboltsandmachine-gunfire,butbothdeflectedharmlesslyoffhisarmoredalienskin.Daitoletoutaboominglaughthatechoedacrossthelandscape.Thenhemadeacrosswithhisarms,intersectingatthewrists.
Aglowingenergybeamblastedforthfromhishands,vaporizinghalfadozengunshipsunluckyenoughtoflythroughitspath.DaitoturnedandsweptthebeamovertheSixergroundforcesaroundhim,fryingthemliketerrifiedantsunderamagnifyingglass.
Daitoappearedtobeenjoyinghimselfimmensely.Somuchsothathepaidlittleattentiontothewarninglightembeddedinthecenterofhischest,whichhadnowbeguntoflashbrightred.ThiswasasignalthathisthreeminutesasUltramanhadnearlyelapsedandthathispowerwasalmostdepleted.ThistimelimitwasUltraman’sprimaryweakness.IfDaitofailedtodeactivatetheBetaCapsuleandreturntohumanformbeforehisthreeminuteswereup,hisavatarwoulddie.Butitwasobviousthatifhechangedbackintohishumanformrightnow,inthemiddleofthemassiveSixeronslaught,he’dbekilledinstantlytoo.AndShotowouldneverbeabletoreachtheship.
IcouldseetheSixertroopsaroundDaitoscreamingintotheircomlinksforbackup,andadditionalSixergunshipswerestillarrivinginClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd245
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droves.Daitowasblastingthemoutoftheskyoneatatime,withperfectlyaimedburstsofhisspeciumray.Andwitheachblasthefired,thewarninglightonhischestpulsedfaster.
ThenShotoemergedfromthewhitehouseandtoldhisbrotherviacomlinkthathe’dacquiredtheJadeKey.Inthatsameinstant,theSixergroundforcesspottedShoto,andsensingamucheasiertarget,theybegantoredirecttheirfireathisavatar.
ShotomadeamaddashfortheKurosawa.WhenheactivatedtheBootsofSpeedhewaswearing,hisavatarbecameabarelyvisibleblurracingacrosstheopenfield.AsShotoran,Daitorepositionedhisgiantformtoprovidehimwithasmuchcoveraspossible.Stillfiringenergyblasts,hewasabletokeeptheSixersatbay.
ThenDaito’svoicebrokeinonthecomlink.“Shoto!”heshouted.“Ithinksomeoneishere!Someoneisinside—”
Hisvoicecutoff.Atthesamemoment,hisavatarfroze,asifhe’dbeenturnedtostone,andalog-outiconappeareddirectlyoverhishead.
LoggingoutofyourOASISaccountwhileyouwereengagedincombatwasthesamethingascommittingsuicide.Duringthelog-outsequence,youravatarfrozeinplaceforsixtyseconds,duringwhichtimeyouweretotallydefenselessandsusceptibletoattack.Thelog-outsequencewasdesignedthiswaytopreventavatarsfromusingitasaneasywaytoescapeafight.Youhadtostandyourgroundorretreattoasafelocationbeforeyoucouldlogout.
Daito’slog-outsequencehadbeenengagedattheworstpossiblemoment.Assoonashisavatarfroze,hebegantotakeheavylaserandgunfirefromalldirections.Theredwarninglightonhischestbegantoflashfasterandfasteruntilitfinallywentsolidred.Whenthathappened,Daito’sgiantformfelloverandcollapsed.Ashefell,hebarelymissedcrushingShotoandtheKurosawa.Ashehittheground,hisavatar’sbodytransformedandshrankbacktoitsnormal
sizeandappearance.Thenitbegantodisappearaltogether,slowingfadingoutofexistence.WhenDaito’savatarvanishedcompletely,itleftbehindasmallpileofspinningitemsontheground—everythinghe’dbeencarryinginhisinventory,includingtheBetaCapsule.Hewasdead.
IsawanotherblurofmotiononthevidfeedasShotoranbacktocollectDaito’sitems.ThenheloopedaroundandranbackaboardtheKurosawa.
Theshipliftedoffandblastedintoorbit,takingheavyfiretheentireway.
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IwasremindedofmyowndesperateescapefromFrobozz.LuckilyforShoto,hisbrotherhadwipedoutmostoftheSixergunshipsinthevicinity,andreinforcementshadyettoarrive.
Shotowasabletoreachorbitandescapebymakingthejumptolightspeed.Butjustbarely.
...
ThevideoendedandShotoclosedthewindow.
“HowdoyouthinktheSixersfoundoutwherehelived?”Iasked.
“Idon’tknow,”Shotosaid.“Daitowascareful.Hecoveredhistracks.”
“Iftheyfoundhim,theymightbeabletofindyou,too,”Isaid.
“Iknow.I’vetakenprecautions.”
“Good.”
ShotoremovedtheBetaCapsulefromhisinventoryandhelditouttome.“Daitowouldhavewantedyoutohavethis.”
Iheldupahand.“No,Ithinkyoushouldkeepit.Youmightneedit.”
Shotoshookhishead.“Ihaveallofhisotheritems,”hesaid.“Idon’tneedthis.AndIdon’twantit.”Heheldthecapsuleouttome,insistent.
Itooktheartifactandexaminedit.Itwasasmallmetalcylinder,silverandblackincolor,witharedactivationbuttononitsside.ItssizeandshaperemindedmeofthelightsabersIowned.Butlightsaberswereadimeadozen.Ihadoverfiftyinmycollection.TherewasonlyoneBetaCapsule,anditwasafarmorepowerfulweapon.
Iraisedthecapsulewithbothhandsandbowed.“Thankyou,Shoto-san.”
“Thankyou,Parzival,”hesaid,returningthebow.“Thankyouforlistening.”Hestoodupslowly.Everythingabouthisbodylanguageseemedtosignaldefeat.
“Youhaven’tgivenupyet,haveyou?”Iasked.
“Ofcoursenot.”Hestraightenedhisbodyandgavemeadarksmile.
“Butfindingtheeggisnolongermygoal.Now,Ihaveanewquest.Afarmoreimportantone.”
“Andthatis?”
“Revenge.”
Inodded.ThenIwalkedoverandtookdownoneofthesamuraiswordsmountedonthewallandpresentedittoShoto.“Please,”Isaid.“Acceptthisgift.Toaidyouinyournewquest.”
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Shototooktheswordanddrewitsornatebladeafewinchesfromthescabbard.“AMasamune?”heasked,staringatthebladeinwonder.
Inodded.“Yes.Andit’saplus-fiveVorpalBlade,too.”
Shotobowedagaintoshowhisgratitude.“Arigato.”
Werodetheelevatorbackdowntomyhangarinsilence.Justbeforeheboardedhisship,Shototurnedtome.“HowlongdoyouthinkitwilltaketheSixerstocleartheThirdGate?”heasked.
“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“Hopefully,longenoughforustocatchupwiththem.”
“It’snotoveruntilthefatladyissinging,right?”
Inodded.“It’snotoveruntilit’sover.Andit’snotoveryet.”
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Ifigureditoutlaterthatnight,afewhoursafterShotoleftmystronghold.
Iwassittinginmycommandcenter,holdingtheJadeKeyandendlesslyrecitingtheclueprintedonitssurface:“‘Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.’”
Inmyotherhand,Iheldthesilverfoilwrapper.MyeyesdartedfromthekeytothewrapperandbacktothekeyagainasItrieddesperatelytomaketheconnectionbetweenthem.I’dbeendoingthisforhours,anditwasn’tgettingmeanywhere.
Isighedandputthekeyaway,thenlaidthewrapperflatonthecontrolpanelinfrontofme.Icarefullysmoothedoutallofitsfoldsandwrinkles.
Thewrapperwassquareinshape,sixincheslongoneachedge.Silverfoilononeside,dullwhitepaperontheother.
Ipulledupsomeimage-analysissoftwareandmadeahigh-resolutionscanofbothsidesofthewrapper.ThenImagnifiedbothimagesonmydisplayandstudiedeverymicrometer.Icouldn’tfindanymarkingsorwritinganywhere,on
eithersideofthewrapper’ssurface.
Iwaseatingsomecornchipsatthetime,soIwasusingvoicecommandstooperatetheimage-analysissoftware.Iinstructedittodemag-nifythescanofthewrapperandcentertheimageonmydisplay.AsIdidthis,itremindedmeofasceneinBladeRunner,whereHarrisonFord’scharacter,Deckard,usesasimilarvoice-controlledscannertoanalyzeaphotograph.
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Iheldupthewrapperandtookanotherlookatit.Asthevirtuallightreflectedoffitsfoilsurface,Ithoughtaboutfoldingthewrapperintoapaperairplaneandsailingitacrosstheroom.Thatmademethinkoforigami,whichremindedmeofanothermomentfromBladeRunner.Oneofthefinalscenesinthefilm.
Andthatwaswhenithitme.
“Theunicorn,”Iwhispered.
ThemomentIsaidtheword“unicorn”aloud,thewrapperbegantofoldonitsown,thereinthepalmofmyhand.Thesquarepieceoffoilbentitselfinhalfdiagonally,creatingasilvertriangle.Itcontinuedtobendandfolditselfintosmallertrianglesandevensmallerdiamondshapesuntilatlastitformedafour-leggedfigurethatthensproutedatail,ahead,andfinally,ahorn.
Thewrapperhadfoldeditselfintoasilverorigamiunicorn.OneofthemosticonicimagesfromBladeRunner.
IwasalreadyridingtheelevatordowntomyhangarandshoutingatMaxtopreptheVonnegutfortakeoff.
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.
NowIknewexactlywhat“test”thatlinereferredto,andwhereIneededtogoto
takeit.Theorigamiunicornhadrevealedeverythingtome.
...
BladeRunnerwasreferencedinthetextofAnorak’sAlmanacnolessthanfourteentimes.IthadbeenoneofHalliday’stoptenall-timefavoritefilms.AndthefilmwasbasedonanovelbyPhilipK.Dick,oneofHalliday’sfavoriteauthors.Forthesereasons,I’dseenBladeRunneroverfourdozentimesandhadmemorizedeveryframeofthefilmandeverylineofdialogue.
AstheVonnegutstreakedthroughhyperspace,IpulledtheDirector’sCutofBladeRunnerupinawindowonmydisplay,thenjumpedaheadtoreviewtwoscenesinparticular.
Themovie,releasedin1982,issetinLosAngelesintheyear2019,inasprawling,hyper-technologicalfuturethathadnevercometopass.ThestoryfollowsaguynamedRickDeckard,playedbyHarrisonFord.Deckardworksasa“bladerunner,”aspecialtypeofcopwhohuntsdownandkillsreplicants—geneticallyengineeredbeingsthatarealmostindistin-guishablefromrealhumans.Infact,replicantslookandactsomuchlikeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd250
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realhumansthattheonlywayabladerunnercanspotoneisbyusingapolygraph-likedevicecalledaVoight-Kampffmachinetotestthem.
Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.
Voight-Kampffmachinesappearinonlytwoscenesinthemovie.
BothofthosetakeplaceinsidetheTyrellBuilding,anenormousdouble-pyramidstructurethathousestheTyrellCorporation,thecompanythatmanufacturesthereplicants.
Re-creationsoftheTyrellBuildingwereamongthemostcommonstructuresin
theOASIS.Copiesofitexistedonhundredsofdifferentplanets,spreadthroughoutalltwenty-sevensectors.Thiswasbecausethecodeforthebuildingwasincludedasafreebuilt-intemplateintheOASIS
WorldBuilderconstructionsoftware(alongwithhundredsofotherstructuresborrowedfromvariousscience-fictionfilmsandtelevisionseries).
Soforthepasttwenty-fiveyears,wheneversomeoneusedtheWorldBuildersoftwaretocreateanewplanetinsidetheOASIS,theycouldjustselecttheTyrellBuildingfromadrop-downmenuandinsertacopyofitintotheirsimulationtohelpfillouttheskylineofwhateverfuturisticcityorlandscapetheywerecoding.Asaresult,someworldshadoveradozencopiesoftheTyrellBuildingscatteredacrosstheirsurfaces.Iwascurrentlyhaulingassatlightspeedtotheclosestsuchworld,acyberpunk-themedplanetinSectorTwenty-twocalledAxrenox.
Ifmysuspicionwascorrect,everycopyoftheTyrellBuildingonAxrenoxcontainedahiddenentranceintotheSecondGate,throughtheVoight-Kampffmachineslocatedinside.Iwasn’tworriedaboutrunningintotheSixers,becausetherewasnowaytheycouldhavebarricadedtheSecondGate.NotwiththousandsofcopiesoftheTyrellBuildingonhundredsofdifferentworlds.
OnceIreachedAxrenox,findingacopyoftheTyrellBuildingtookonlyafewminutes.Itwasprettyhardtomiss.Amassivepyramid-shapedstructurecoveringseveralsquarekilometersatitsbase,ittoweredabovemostofthestructuresadjacenttoit.
IzeroedinonthefirstinstanceofthebuildingIsawandheadedstraightforit.Myship’scloakingdevicewasalreadyengaged,andIleftitactivatedwhenIsettheVonnegutdownononeoftheTyrellBuilding’slandingpads.ThenIlockedtheshipandactivatedallofitssecuritysystems,hopingthey’dbeenoughtokeepitfromgettingstolenuntilIreturned.Magicdidn’tfunctionhere,soIcouldn’tjustshrinktheshipandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd251
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putitinmypocket,andleavingyourvesselparkedoutintheopenonacyberpunk-themedworldlikeAxrenoxwaslikeaskingforittogetrippedoff.TheVonnegutwouldbeatargetforthefirstleather-cladboostergangthatspottedit.
IpulledupamapoftheTyrellBuildingtemplate’slayoutandusedittolocatearoof-accesselevatorashortdistancefromtheplatformwhereI’dlanded.WhenIreachedtheelevator,Ipunchedinthedefaultsecuritycodeonthecodepadandcrossedmyfingers.Igotlucky.Theelevatordoorshissedopen.WhoeverhadcreatedthissectionoftheAxrenoxcityscapehadn’tbotheredtoresetthesecuritycodesinthetemplate.Itookthisasagoodsign.Itmeantthey’dprobablylefteverythingelseinthetemplateatthedefaultsettingtoo.
AsIrodetheelevatordowntothe440thfloor,Ipoweredonmyarmoranddrewmyguns.FivesecuritycheckpointsstoodbetweentheelevatorandtheroomIneededtoreach.Unlessthetemplatehadbeenaltered,fiftyNPCTyrellsecurityguardreplicantswouldbestandingbetweenmeandmydestination.
Theshootingstartedassoonastheelevatordoorsslidopen.IhadtokillsevenskinjobsbeforeIcouldevenmakeitoutoftheelevatorcarandintothehallway.
ThenexttenminutesplayedoutliketheclimaxofaJohnWoomovie.
OneoftheonesstarringChowYunFat,likeHardBoiledorTheKiller.
IswitchedbothofmygunstoautofireandhelddownthetriggersasImovedfromoneroomtothenext,mowingdowneveryNPCinmypath.
Theguardsreturnedfire,buttheirbulletspingedharmlesslyoffmyarmor.Ineverranoutofammo,becauseeachtimeIfiredaround,anewroundwasteleportedintothebottomoftheclip.
Mybulletbillthismonthwasgoingtobehuge.
WhenIfinallyreachedmydestination,Ipunchedinanothercodeandlockedthedoorbehindme.IknewIdidn’thavemuchtime.Klaxonswereblaringthroughoutthebuilding,andthethousandsofNPCguardsstationedonthefloorsbelowwereprobablyalreadyontheirwayupheretofindme.
MyfootstepsechoedasIenteredtheroom.Itwasdesertedexceptforalargeowl
sittingonagoldenperch.ItblinkedatmesilentlyasIcrossedtheenormouscathedral-likeroom,whichwasaperfectre-creationoftheofficeoftheTyrellCorporation’sfounder,EldonTyrell.Everydetailfromthefilmhadbeenduplicatedexactly.Polishedstonefloors.GiantmarbleClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd252
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pillars.Theentirewestwallwasamassivefloor-to-ceilingwindowofferingabreathtakingviewofthevastcityscapeoutside.
Alongconferencetablestoodbesidethewindow.SittingontopofitwasaVoight-Kampffmachine.Itwasaboutthesizeofabriefcase,witharowofunlabeledbuttonsonthefront,nexttothreesmalldatamonitors.
WhenIwalkedupandsatdowninfrontofthemachine,itturneditselfon.Athinroboticarmextendedacirculardevicethatlookedlikearetinalscanner,whichlockedintoplacedirectlylevelwiththepupilofmyrighteye.Asmallbellowswasbuiltintothesideofthemachine,anditbegantoriseandfall,givingtheimpressionthatthedevicewasbreathing.
Iglancedaround,wonderingifanNPCofHarrisonFordwouldappear,toaskmethesamequestionsheaskedSeanYounginthemovie.I’dmemorizedallofheranswers,justincase.ButIwaitedafewsecondsandnothinghappened.Themachine’sbellowscontinuedtoriseandfall.Inthedistance,thesecurityklaxonscontinuedtowail.
ItookouttheJadeKey.TheinstantIdid,apanelslidopeninthesurfaceoftheVoight-Kampffmachine,revealingakeyhole.IquicklyinsertedtheJadeKeyandturnedit.Themachineandthekeybothvanished,andintheirplace,theSecondGateappeared.Itwasadoorlikeportalrestingontopofthepolishedconferencetable.Itsedgesglowedwiththesamemilkyjadecolorasthekey,andjustliketheFirstGate,itappearedtoleadintoavastfieldofstars.
Ileaptuponthetableandjumpedinside.
...
Ifoundmyselfstandingjustinsidetheentranceofaseedy-lookingbowlingalleywithdisco-eradecor.Thecarpetwasagarishpatternofgreenandbrownswirls,andthemoldedplasticchairswereafadedorangecolor.Thebowlinglaneswereallemptyandunlit.Theplacewasdeserted.
Thereweren’tevenanyNPCsbehindthefrontcounterorthesnackbar.
Iwasn’tsurewhereIwassupposedtobeuntilIsawmiddletownlanesprintedinhugelettersonthewallabovethebowlinglanes.
Atfirst,theonlysoundIheardwasthelowhumofthefluorescentlightsoverhead.ButthenInoticedaseriesoffaintelectronicchirpsema-natingfromofftomyleft.Iglancedinthatdirectionandsawadarkenedalcovejustbeyondthesnackbar.Overthiscavelikeentrancewasasign.
Eightbrightredneonlettersspelledoutthewordsgameroom.
Therewasaviolentrushofwind,andtheroarofwhatsoundedlikeaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd253
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hurricanetearingthroughthebowlingalley.Myfeetbegantoslideacrossthecarpet,andIrealizedthatmyavatarwasbeingpulledtowardthegameroom,asifablackholehadopenedupsomewhereinthere.
Asthevacuumyankedmethroughthegameroomentrance,Ispottedadozenvideogamesinside,allfromthemid-tolate’80s.CrimeFighters,HeavyBarrel,Vigilante,SmashTV.ButIcouldnowseethatmyavatarwasbeingdrawntowardonegameinparticular,agamethatstoodaloneattheverybackofthegameroom.
BlackTiger.Capcom,1987.
Aswirlingvortexhadopenedinthecenterofthegame’smonitor,anditwassuckinginbitsoftrash,papercups,bowlingshoes—everythingthatwasn’tnaileddown.Includingme.Asmyavatarnearedit,IreflexivelyreachedoutandgrabbedthejoystickofaTimePilotmachine.Myfeetwereinstantlyliftedoffthefloorasthevortexcontinuedtopullmyavatarinexorablytowardit.
Atthispoint,Iwasactuallygrinninginanticipation.Iwasallpreparedtopatmyselfontheback,becauseI’dmasteredBlackTigerlongago,duringthefirstyearoftheHunt.
Intheyearspriortohisdeath,whenHallidayhadbeenlivinginseclusion,theonlythinghe’dpostedonhiswebsitewasabriefloopinganimation.Itshowedhisavatar,Anorak,sittinginhiscastle’slibrary,mixingpotionsandporingoverdustyspellbooks.Thisanimationhadrunonacontinuousloopforoveradecade,untilitwasfinallyreplacedbytheScoreboardonthemorningHallidaydied.Inthatanimation,hangingonthewallbehindAnorak,youcouldseealargepaintingofablackdragon.
Guntershadfilledcountlessmessageboardthreadsarguingaboutthemeaningofthepainting,aboutwhattheblackdragonsignifiedorwhetheritsignifiedanythingatall.ButI’dbeensureofitsmeaningfromthestart.
InoneoftheearliestjournalentriesinAnorak’sAlmanac,Hallidaywrotethatwheneverhisparentswouldstartscreamingateachother,hewouldsneakoutofthehouseandridehisbiketothelocalbowlingalleytoplayBlackTiger,becauseitwasagamehecouldbeatonjustonequarter.AA23:234:“Foronequarter,BlackTigerletsmeescapefrommyrot-tenexistenceforthreeglorioushours.Prettygooddeal.”
BlackTigerhadfirstbeenreleasedinJapanunderitsoriginaltitleBurakkuDoragon.BlackDragon.ThegamehadbeenrenamedforitsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd254
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Americanrelease.I’ddeducedthattheblackdragonpaintingonthewallof
Anorak’sstudyhadbeenasubtlehintthatBurakkuDoragonwouldplayakeyroleintheHunt.SoI’dstudiedthegameuntil,likeHalliday,Icouldreachtheendonjustonecredit.Afterthat,Icontinuedtoplayiteveryfewmonths,justtokeepfromgettingrusty.
Now,itlookedasifmyforesightanddiligencewereabouttopayoff.
IwasonlyabletoholdontotheTimePilotjoystickforafewseconds.
ThenIlostmygripandmyavatarwassuckeddirectlyintotheBlackTigergame’smonitor.
Everythingwentblackforamoment.ThenIfoundmyselfinsurrealsurroundings.
Iwasnowstandinginsideanarrowdungeoncorridor.Onmyleftwasahighgraycobblestonewallwithamammothdragonskullmountedonit.Thewallstretchedupandup,vanishingintotheshadowsabove.Icouldn’tmakeoutanyceiling.Thedungeonfloorwascomposedoffloatingcircularplatformsarrangedendtoendinalonglinethatstretchedoutintothedarknessahead.Tomyright,beyondtheplatforms’edge,therewasnothing—justanendless,emptyblackvoid.
Iturnedaround,buttherewasnoexitbehindme.Justanotherhighcobblestonewall,stretchingupintotheinfiniteblacknessoverhead.
Ilookeddownatmyavatar’sbody.InowlookedexactlyliketheheroofBlackTiger—amuscular,half-nakedbarbarianwarriordressedinanarmoredthongandahornedhelmet.Myrightarmdisappearedinastrangemetalgauntlet,fromwhichhungalongretractablechainwithaspikedmetalballontheend.Myrighthanddeftlyheldthreethrowingdaggers.
WhenIhurledthemoffintheblackvoidatmyright,threemoreidenticaldaggersinstantlyappearedinmyhand.WhenItriedjumping,IdiscoveredthatIcouldleapthirtyfeetstraightupandlandbackonmyfeetwithcatlikegrace.
NowIunderstood.IwasabouttoplayBlackTiger,allright.Butnotthefifty-year-old,2-D,side-scrollingplatformgamethatIhadmastered.
Iwasnowstandinginsideanew,immersive,three-dimensionalversionofthe
gamethatHallidayhadcreated.
Myknowledgeoftheoriginalgame’smechanics,levels,andenemieswoulddefinitelycomeinhandy,butthegameplaywasgoingtobecompletelydifferent,anditwouldrequireanentirelydifferentsetofskills.
TheFirstGatehadplacedmeinsideoneofHalliday’sfavoritemovies,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd255
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andnowtheSecondGatehadputmeinsideoneofhisfavoritevideogames.WhileIwasponderingtheimplicationofthispattern,amessagebegantoflashonmydisplay:go!
Ilookedaround.Anarrowetchedintothestonewallonmyleftpointedthewayforward.Istretchedmyarmsandlegs,crackedmyknuckles,andtookadeepbreath.Then,readyingmyweapons,Iranforward,leapingfromplatformtoplatform,toconfrontthefirstofmyadversaries.
...
Hallidayhadfaithfullyre-createdeverydetailofBlackTiger’seight-leveldungeon.
IgotofftoaroughstartandlostalifebeforeIevenclearedthefirstboss.ButthenIbegantoacclimatetoplayingthegameinthreedimensions(andfromafirst-personperspective).Eventually,Ifoundmygroove.
Ipressedonward,leapingfromplatformtoplatform,attackinginmidair,dodgingtherelentlessonslaughtofblobs,skeletons,snakes,mummies,minotaurs,andyes,ninjas.EachenemyIvanquisheddroppedapileof“Zennycoins”thatIcouldlaterusetopurchasearmor,weapons,andpotionsfromoneofthebeardedwisemenscatteredthroughouteachlevel.(These“wisemen”apparentlythoughtsettingupasmallshopinthemiddleofamonster-infesteddungeonwasafineidea.)Therewerenotime-outs,andnowayformetopause
thegame.Onceyouenteredagate,youcouldn’tjuststopandlogout.Thesystemwouldn’tallowit.Evenifyouremovedyourvisor,youwouldremainloggedin.Theonlywayoutofagatewastogothroughit.Ordie.
Imanagedtoclearalleightlevelsofthegameinjustunderthreehours.
TheclosestIcametodeathwasduringmybattlewiththefinalboss,theBlackDragon,who,ofcourse,lookedexactlylikethebeastdepictedinthepaintinginAnorak’sstudy.I’dusedupallofmyextralives,andmyvital-itybarwasalmostatzero,butImanagedtokeepmovingandstayclearofthedragon’sfierybreathwhileIslowlyknockeddownhislifemeterwithasteadybarrageofthrowingdaggers.WhenIstruckthefinalkillingblow,thedragoncrumbledintodigitaldustinfrontofme.
Iletoutalong,exhaustedsighofrelief.
Then,withnotransitionwhatsoever,Ifoundmyselfbackinthebowlingalleygameroom,standinginfrontoftheBlackTigergame.Infrontofme,onthegame’smonitor,myarmoredbarbarianwasstrikingaheroicpose.Thefollowingtextappearedbelowhim:Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd256
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YOUHAVERETURNEDPEACEANDPROSPERITYTOOURNATION.
THANKYOU,BLACKTIGER!
CONGRATULATIONSONYOURSTRENGTHANDWISDOM!
Thensomethingstrangehappened—somethingthathadneverhappenedwhenI’dbeatentheoriginalgame.Oneofthe“wisemen”fromthedungeonappearedonthescreen,withaspeechballoonthatsaid,“Thankyou.Iamindebtedtoyou.Pleaseacceptagiantrobotasyourreward.”
Alongrowofroboticonsappearedbelowthewiseman,stretchingacrossthescreenhorizontally.Bymovingthejoystickleftorright,IfoundthatIwasable
toscrollthroughaselectionofoverahundreddifferent
“giantrobots.”Whenoneoftheserobotswashighlighted,adetailedlistofitsstatsandweaponryappearedonthescreenbesideit.
TherewereseveralrobotsIdidn’trecognize,butmostwerefamiliar.IspottedGigantor,TranzorZ,theIronGiant,JetJaguar,thesphinx-headedGiantRobofromJohnnySokkoandHisFlyingRobot,theentireShogunWarriorstoyline,andmanyofthemechsfeaturedinboththeMacrossandGundamanimeseries.Elevenoftheseiconsweregrayedoutandhadared“X”overthem,andtheserobotscouldnotbeidentifiedorselected.
IknewtheymustbetheonestakenbySorrentoandtheotherSixerswhohadclearedthisgatebeforeme.
ItseemedpossiblethatIwasabouttobeawardedareal,workingrecreationofwhicheverrobotIselected,soIstudiedmyoptionscarefully,searchingfortheoneIthoughtwouldbethemostpowerfulandwellarmed.ButIstoppedcoldwhenIsawLeopardon,thegianttransformingrobotusedbySupaidaman,theincarnationofSpider-ManwhoappearedonJapaneseTVinthelate1970s.I’ddiscoveredSupaidamanduringthecourseofmyresearchandhadbecomesomewhatobsessedwiththeshow.
SoIdidn’tcareifLeopardonwasthemostpowerfulrobotavailable.Ihadtohavehim,regardless.
IhighlightedthaticonandtappedtheFirebutton.Atwelve-inch-tallreplicaofLeopardonappearedontopoftheBlackTigercabinet.Igrabbeditandplaceditinmyinventory.Therewerenoinstructions,andtheitemdescriptionfieldwasblank.Imadeamentalnotetoexamineitlater,whenIgotbacktomystronghold.
Meanwhile,ontheBlackTigermonitor,theendcreditshadbeguntoscrolloveranimageofthegame’sbarbarianherosittingonathronewithaslenderprincessathisside.Irespectfullyreadeachoftheprogrammers’
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names.TheywereallJapanese,exceptfortheverylastcredit,whichreadoasisportbyj.d.halliday.
Whenthecreditsended,themonitorwentdarkforamoment.Thenasymbolslowlyappearedinthecenterofthescreen:aglowingredcirclewithafive-pointedstarinsideit.Thepointsofthestarextendedjustbeyondtheouteredgeofthecircle.Asecondlater,animageoftheCrystalKeyappeared,spinningslowlyinthecenteroftheglowingredstar.
Ifeltarushofadrenaline,becauseIrecognizedtheredstarsymbol,andIknewwhereitwasmeanttoleadme.
Isnappedseveralscreenshots,justtobesafe.Amomentlater,themonitorwentdark,andtheBlackTigergamecabinetmeltedandmorphedintoadoor-shapedportalwithglowingjadeedges.Theexit.
Iletoutatriumphantcheerandjumpedthroughit.
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WhenIemergedfromthegate,myavatarreappearedbackinsideTyrell’soffice.TheVoight-Kampffmachinehadreappearedinitsoriginallocation,restingonthetablebesideme.Icheckedthetime.OverthreehourshadpassedsinceI’dfirstenteredthegate.Theroomwasdeserted,savefortheowl,andthesecurityklaxonswerenolongerwailing.
TheNPCguardsmusthavebustedinandsearchedthisareawhileIwasstillinsidethegate,becausetheynolongerappearedtobelookingforme.
Thecoastwasclear.
Imademywaybacktotheelevatoranduptothelandingplatformwithoutincident.AndthanksbetoCrom,theVonnegutwasstillparkedrightwhereI’dleftit,itscloakingdevicestillengaged.IranonboardandleftAxrenox,jumpingtolightspeedassoonasIreachedorbit.
AstheVonnegutstreakedthroughhyperspace,headedfortheneareststargate,IpulleduponeofthescreenshotsI’dtakenoftheredstarsymbol.ThenIopenedmygraildiaryandaccessedthesubfolderdevotedtothelegendaryCanadianrockbandRush.
RushhadbeenHalliday’sfavoriteband,fromhisteensonward.He’doncerevealedinaninterviewthathe’dcodedeverysingleoneofhisvideogames(includingtheOASIS)whilelisteningexclusivelytoRushalbums.
HeoftenreferredtoRush’sthreemembers—NeilPeart,AlexLifeson,andGeddyLee—as“theHolyTrinity”or“theGodsoftheNorth.”
Inmygraildiary,IhadeverysingleRushsong,album,bootleg,andmusicvideoevermade.Ihadhigh-resscansofalltheirlinernotesandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd259
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albumartwork.EveryframeofRushconcertfootageinexistence.Everyradioandtelevisioninterviewthebandhadeverdone.Unabridgedbiographiesoneachbandmember,alongwithcopiesoftheirsideprojectsandsolowork.Ipulleduptheband’sdiscographyandselectedthealbumIwaslookingfor:2112,Rush’sclassicsci-fi–themedconceptalbum.
Ahigh-resolutionscanofthealbum’scoverappearedonmydisplay.
Theband’snameandthealbum’stitlewereprintedoverafieldofstars,andbelowthat,appearingasifreflectedinthesurfaceofaripplinglake,wasthesymbolI’dseenontheBlackTigergame’smonitor:aredfive-pointedstarenclosedinacircle.
WhenIplacedthealbumcoversidebysidewiththescreenshotofthegamescreen,thetwosymbolsmatchedexactly.
2112’stitletrackisanepicseven-partsong,overtwentyminutesinlength.Thesongtellsthestoryofananonymousrebellivingintheyear2112,atimewhencreativityandself-expressionhavebeenoutlawed.Theredstaronthealbum’scoverwasthesymboloftheSolarFederation,theoppressiveinterstellarsocietyinthestory.TheSolarFederationwascontrolledbyagroupof“priests,”whoaredescribedinPartIIofthesong,titled“TheTemplesofSyrinx.”ItslyricstoldmeexactlywheretheCrystalKeywashidden:
WearethePriestsoftheTemplesofSyrinx
Ourgreatcomputersfillthehallowedhalls.
WearethePriestsoftheTemplesofSyrinx
Allthegiftsoflifeareheldwithinourwalls.
TherewasaplanetinSectorTwenty-onenamedSyrinx.ThatwaswhereIwasheadednow.
TheOASISatlasdescribedSyrinxas“adesolateworldwithrockyterrainandnoNPCinhabitants.”WhenIaccessedtheplanet’scolophon,IsawthatSyrinx’sauthorwaslistedas“Anonymous.”ButIknewtheplanetmusthavebeencodedbyHalliday,becauseitsdesignmatchedtheworlddescribedin2112’slinernotes.
2112wasoriginallyreleasedin1976,backwhenmostmusicwassoldontwelve-inchvinylrecords.Therecordscameincardboardsleeveswithartworkandatracklistingprintedonthem.Somealbumsleevesopeneduplikeabookandincludedmoreartworkandlinernotesinside,alongwithlyricsandinformationabouttheband.AsIpulledupascanof2112’sClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd260
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originalfold-outalbumsleeve,Isawthattherewasasecondimageoftheredstarsymbolontheinside.Thisonedepictedanakedmancoweringinfrontofthestar,bothhishandsraisedinfear.
Ontheoppositesideoftherecordsleeveweretheprintedlyricstoallsevenpartsofthe2112suite.Thelyricsforeachsectionwereprecededbyaparagraphofprosethataugmentedthenarrativelaidoutinthelyrics.
Thesebriefvignettesweretoldfromthepointofviewof2112’sanonymousprotagonist.
ThefollowingtextprecededthelyricstoPartI:Ilieawake,staringoutatthebleaknessofMegadon.Cityandskybecomeone,mergingintoasingleplane,avastseaofunbrokengrey.TheTwinMoons,justtwopaleorbsastheytracetheirwayacrossthesteelysky.
WhenmyshipreachedSyrinx,Isawthetwinmoons,By-TorandSnowDog,thatorbitedtheplanet.TheirnamesweretakenfromanotherclassicRushsong.Anddownbelow,ontheplanet’sbleakgraysurface,therewereexactly1,024copiesofMegadon,thedomedcitydescribedinthelinernotes.ThatwastwicethenumberofZorkinstancesthere’dbeenonFrobozz,soIknewtheSixerscouldn’tbarricadethemall.
Withmycloakingdeviceengaged,IselectedthenearestinstanceofthecityandlandedtheVonnegutjustoutsidethewallofitsdome,watchingmyscopesforotherships.
Megadonwasanchoredatoparockyplateau,ontheedgeofanimmensecliff.Thecityappearedtobeinruins.Itsmassivetransparentdomewasriddledwithcracksandlookedasthoughitmightcollapseatanymoment.Iwasabletoenterthecitybysqueezingthroughoneofthelargestofthesecracks,atthebaseofthedome.
ThecityofMegadonremindedmeofanold1950ssci-fipaperbackcoverpaintingdepictingthecrumblingruinsofaonce-greattechnologicallyadvancedcivilization.IntheabsolutecenterofthecityIfoundatoweringobelisk-shapedtemplewithwind-blastedgraywalls.AgiantredstaroftheSolarFederationwasemblazonedabovetheentrance.
IwasstandingbeforetheTempleofSyrinx.
Itwasn’tcoveredbyaforcefield,orsurroundedbyadetachmentofSixers.Therewasn’tasoulinsight.
Idrewmygunsandwalkedthroughtheentranceofthetemple.
Inside,mammothobelisk-shapedsupercomputersstoodinlongrows,fillingthegiant,cathedral-liketemple.Iwanderedalongtheserows,lis-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd261
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teningtothedeephumofthemachines,untilIfinallyreachedthecenterofthetemple.
There,Ifoundaraisedstonealtarwiththefive-pointedredstaretchedintoitssurface.AsIsteppeduptothealtar,thehummingofthecomputersceased,andthechambergrewsilent.
ItappearedIwassupposedtoplacesomethingonthealtar,anofferingtotheTempleofSyrinx.Butwhatkindofoffering?
Thetwelve-inchLeopardonrobotI’dacquiredaftercompletingtheSecondGatedidn’tseemtofit.Itriedplacingitonthealtaranywayandnothinghappened.Iplacedtherobotbackinmyinventoryandstoodthereforamoment,thinking.ThenIrememberedsomethingelsefromthe2112linernotes.Ipulledthemupandscannedoverthemagain.Therewasmyanswer,inthetextthatprecededPartIII—“Discovery”:Behindmybelovedwaterfall,inthelittleroomthatwashiddenbeneaththecave,Ifoundit.Ibrushedawaythedustoftheyears,andpickeditup,holdingitreverentlyinmyhands.Ihadnoideawhatitmightbe,butitwasbeautiful.Ilearnedtolaymyfingersacrossthewires,andtoturnthekeystomakethemsounddifferently.AsIstruckthewireswithmyotherhand,Iproducedmyfirstharmonioussounds,andsoonmyownmusic!
Ifoundthewaterfallnearthesouthernedgeofthecity,justinsidethecurvedwalloftheatmosphericdome.AssoonasIfoundit,Iactivatedmyjetbootsandflewoverthefoamingriverbelowthefalls,thenpassedthroughthewaterfall
itself.Myhapticsuitdiditsbesttosimulatethesensationoftorrentsoffallingwaterstrikingmybody,butitfeltmorelikesomeonepoundingonmyhead,shoulders,andbackwithabundleofsticks.OnceI’dpassedthroughthefallstotheotherside,Ifoundtheopeningofacaveandwentinside.Thecavenarrowedintoalongtunnel,whichterminatedinasmall,cavernousroom.
Isearchedtheroomanddiscoveredthatoneofthestalagmitesprotrudingfromthefloorwasslightlywornaroundthetip.Igrabbedthestalagmiteandpulledittowardme,butitdidn’tbudge.Itriedpushing,anditgave,bendingasifonsomehiddenhinge,likealever.Iheardarumbleofgrindingstonebehindme,andIturnedtoseeatrapdooropeninginthefloor.Aholehadalsoopenedintheroofofthecave,castingabrilliantshaftoflightdownthroughtheopentrapdoor,intoatinyhiddenchamberbelow.
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Itookanitemoutofmyinventory,awandthatcoulddetecthiddentraps,magicalorotherwise.Iusedittomakesuretheareawasclear,thenjumpeddownthroughthetrapdoorandlandedonthedustyfloorofthehiddenchamber.Itwasatinycube-shapedroomwithalargerough-hewnstonestandingagainstthenorthwall.Embeddedinthestone,neckfirst,wasanelectricguitar.Irecognizeditsdesignfromthe2112concertfootageI’dwatchedduringthetriphere.Itwasa1974GibsonLesPaul,theexactguitarusedbyAlexLifesonduringthe2112tour.
IgrinnedattheabsurdArthurianimageoftheguitarinthestone.Likeeverygunter,I’dseenJohnBoorman’sfilmExcaliburmanytimes,soitseemedobviouswhatIshoulddonext.Ireachedoutwithmyrighthand,graspedtheneckoftheguitar,andpulled.Theguitarcamefreeofthestonewithaprolongedmetallicshhingggg!
AsIheldtheguitarovermyhead,themetallicringingseguedintoaguitarpowerchordthatechoedthroughoutthecave.Istareddownattheguitar,abouttoactivatemyjetbootsagain,toflybackupthroughthetrapdoorandoutofthe
cave.ButthenanideaoccurredtomeandIfroze.
JamesHallidayhadtakenguitarlessonsforafewyearsinhighschool.
Thatwaswhathadfirstinspiredmetolearntoplay.I’dneverheldanactualguitar,butonavirtualaxe,Icouldtotallyshred.
Isearchedmyinventoryandfoundaguitarpick.ThenIopenedmygraildiaryandpulledupthesheetmusicfor2112,alongwiththeguitartablatureforthesong“Discovery,”whichdescribesthehero’sdiscoveryoftheguitarinaroomhiddenbehindawaterfall.AsIbegantoplaythesong,thesoundoftheguitarblastedoffthechamberwallsandbackoutthroughthecave,despitetheabsenceofanyelectricityoramplifiers.
WhenIfinishedplayingthefirstmeasureof“Discovery,”amessagebrieflyappeared,carvedintothestonefromwhichI’dpulledtheguitar.
Thefirstwasringedinredmetal
Thesecond,ingreenstone
Thethirdisclearestcrystal
andcannotbeunlockedalone
Inseconds,thewordsbegantovanish,fadingfromthestonealongwiththestrainsofthelastnoteI’dplayedontheguitar.Iquicklysnappedascreenshotoftheriddle,alreadytryingtosortoutitsmeaning.ItwasabouttheThirdGate,ofcourse.Andhowitcouldnot“beunlockedalone.”
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HadtheSixersplayedthesonganddiscoveredthismessage?Iseriouslydoubtedit.Theywouldhavepulledtheguitarfromthestoneandimmediatelyreturnedittothetemple.
Ifso,theyprobablydidn’tknowtherewassomesortoftricktounlockingtheThirdGate.Andthatwouldexplainwhytheystillhadn’treachedtheegg.
...
Ireturnedtothetempleandplacedtheguitaronthealtar.AsIdid,thetoweringcomputersaroundmebegantoemitacacophonyofsound,likeagrandorchestratuningup.Thenoisebuilttoadeafeningcrescendobeforeceasingabruptly.Thentherewasaflashoflightonthealtar,andtheguitartransformedintotheCrystalKey.
WhenIreachedoutandpickedupthekey,achimesounded,andmyscoreontheScoreboardincreasedby25,000points.Whenaddedtothe200,000I’dreceivedforclearingtheSecondGate,thatbroughtmytotalscoreupto353,000points,onethousandpointsmorethanSorrento.Iwasbackinfirstplace.
ButIknewthiswasnotimetocelebrate.IquicklyexaminedtheCrystalKey,tiltingituptostudyitsglittering,facetedsurface.Ididn’tseeanywordsetchedthere,butIdidfindasmallmonogrametchedinthecenterofthekey’scrystal
handle,asinglecalligraphicletter“A”thatIrecognizedimmediately.
Thatsameletter“A”appearedintheCharacterSymbolboxonJamesHalliday’sfirstDungeons&Dragonscharactersheet.TheverysamemonogramalsoappearedonthedarkrobesofhisfamousOASISavatar,Anorak.And,Iknew,thatsameemblematicletteradornedthefrontgatesofCastleAnorak,hisavatar’simpregnablestronghold.
InthefirstfewyearsoftheHunt,guntershadswarmedlikehungryinsectstoanyOASISlocationthatseemedlikeapossiblehidingplaceforthethreekeys,specificallyplanetsoriginallycodedbyHallidayhimself.
ChiefamongthesewastheplanetChthonia,apainstakingre-creationofthefantasyworldHallidayhadcreatedforhishigh-schoolDungeons&
Dragonscampaign,andalsothesettingofmanyofhisearlyvideogames.
Chthoniahadbecomethegunters’Mecca.Likeeveryoneelse,I’dfeltob-ligatedtomakeapilgrimagethere,tovisitCastleAnorak.Butthecastlewasimpregnableandalwayshadbeen.NoavatarbutAnorakhimselfhadeverbeenabletopassthroughitsentrance.
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ButnowIknewtheremustbeawaytoenterCastleAnorak.BecausetheThirdGatewashiddensomewhereinside.
...
WhenIgotbacktomyship,IblastedoffandsetacourseforChthoniainSectorTen.ThenIbegantoscanthenewsfeeds,intendingtocheckoutthemediafrenzymyreturntofirstplacewasgenerating.Butmyscorewasn’tthetopstory.No,thebignewsthatafternoonwasthatthehidingplaceofHalliday’sEasteregghad,atlonglast,finallybeenrevealedtotheworld.Itwas,thenews
anchorssaid,locatedsomewhereontheplanetChthonia,insideCastleAnorak.TheyknewthisbecausetheentireSixerarmywasnowencampedaroundthecastle.
They’darrivedearlierthatday,shortlyafterI’dclearedtheSecondGate.
Iknewthetimingcouldn’tbeacoincidence.MyprogressmusthavepromptedtheSixerstoendtheircovertattemptstocleartheThirdGateandmakeitslocationpublicbybarricadingitbeforeIoranyoneelsecouldreachit.
WhenIarrivedatChthoniaafewminuteslater,Ididacloakedflybyofthecastle,justtogaugethelayofthelandformyself.ItwasevenworsethanI’dimagined.
TheSixershadinstalledsometypeofmagicalshieldoverCastleAnorak,asemitransparentdomethatcompletelycoveredthecastleandtheareaaroundit.EncampedinsidetheshieldwallwastheentireSixerarmy.
Avastcollectionoftroops,tanks,weapons,andvehiclessurroundedthecastleonallsides.
Severalgunterclanswerealreadyonthescene,andtheyweremakingtheirfirstattemptstobringdowntheshieldbylaunchinghigh-yieldnukesatit.Eachdetonationwasfollowedbyabriefatomiclightshow,andthentheblastwoulddissipateharmlesslyagainsttheshield.
TheattacksontheshieldcontinuedforthenextfewhoursasthenewsspreadandmoreandmoreguntersarrivedonChthonia.Theclanslaunchedeverytypeofweapontheycouldthinkofattheshield,butnothingaffectedit.Notnukes,notfireballs,andnotmagicmissiles.Eventually,ateamofgunterstriedtodigatunnelunderthedomewall,andthatwaswhenitwasdiscoveredthattheshieldwasactuallyacompletespheresurroundingthecastle,above-andbelowground.
Laterthatnight,severalhigh-levelgunterwizardsfinishedcastingaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd265
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seriesofdivinationspellsonthecastleandannouncedonthemessageboardsthattheshieldaroundthecastlewasgeneratedbyapowerfulartifactcalledtheOrbofOsuvox,whichcouldonlybeoperatedbyawizardwhowasninety-ninthlevel.Accordingtotheartifact’sitemdescription,itcouldcreateasphericalshieldarounditself,withacircumferenceofuptohalfakilometer.Thisshieldwasimpenetrableandindestructibleandcouldvaporizejustaboutanythingthattouchedit.Itcouldalsobekeptupindefinitely,aslongasthewizardoperatingtheorbremainedimmo-bileandkeptbothhandsontheartifact.
Inthedaysthatfollowed,gunterstriedeverythingtheycouldthinkoftopenetratetheshield.Magic.Technology.Teleportation.Counterspells.
Otherartifacts.Nothingworked.Therewasnowaytogetinside.
Anairofhopelessnessquicklysweptthroughtheguntercommunity.
Solosandclansmenalikewerereadytothrowinthetowel.TheSixershadtheCrystalKeyandexclusiveaccesstotheThirdGate.EveryoneagreedthatTheEndwasnear,thattheHuntwas“alloverbutthecrying.”
Duringallofthesedevelopments,Isomehowmanagedtokeepmycool.TherewasachancetheSixershadn’tevenfiguredouthowtoopentheThirdGateyet.Ofcourse,theyhadplentyoftimenow.Theycouldbeslowandmethodical.Soonerorlater,theywouldstumbleonthesolution.
ButIrefusedtogiveup.UntilanavatarreachedHalliday’sEasteregg,anythingwasstillpossible.
Likeanyclassicvideogame,theHunthadsimplyreachedanew,moredifficultlevel.Anewleveloftenrequiredanentirelynewstrategy.
Ibegantoformulateaplan.Abold,outrageousplanthatwouldrequireepicamountsoflucktopulloff.Isetthisplaninmotionbye-mailingArt3mis,Aech,andShoto.MymessagetoldthemexactlywheretofindtheSecondGateandhowtoobtaintheCrystalKey.OnceIwassureallthreeofthemhadreceivedmymessage,Iinitiatedthenextphaseofmyplan.Thiswasthepartthatterrifiedme,becauseIknewtherewasagoodchanceitwasgoingtoendupgettingmekilled.Butatthispoint,Inolongercared.
IwasgoingtoreachtheThirdGate,ordietrying.
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LevelThree
Goingoutsideishighlyoverrated.
—Anorak’sAlmanac,Chapter17,Verse32
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WhentheIOIcorporatepolicecametoarrestme,IwasrightinthemiddleofthemovieExplorers(1985,directedbyJoeDante).It’saboutthreekidswhobuildaspaceshipintheirbackyardandthenflyofftomeetaliens.Easilyoneofthegreatestkidflicksevermade.I’dgottenintothehabitofwatchingitatleastonceamonth.Itkeptmecentered.
Ihadathumbnailofmyapartmentbuilding’sexternalsecuritycamerafeedattheedgeofmydisplay,soIsawtheIOIIndenturedServantRetrievalTransportpullupoutfront,sirenwailingandlightsflashing.
Thenfourjackbooted,riot-helmeteddropcopsjumpedoutandranintothebuilding,followedbyaguyinasuit.IcontinuedtowatchthemonthelobbycameraastheywavedtheirIOIbadges,blewpastthesecuritystation,andfiled
ontotheelevator.
Nowtheywereontheirwayuptomyfloor.
“Max,”Imuttered,notingthefearinmyownvoice.“Executesecuritymacronumberone:Crom,stronginhismountain.”Thisvoicecommandinstructedmycomputertoexecutealongseriesofpreprogrammedactions,bothonlineandintherealworld.
“Youg-g-gotit,Chief!”Maxrepliedcheerfully,andasplitsecondlater,myapartment’ssecuritysystemswitchedintolockdownmode.Myreinforcedplate-titaniumWarDoorswungdownfromtheceiling,slammingandlockingintoplaceovermyapartment’sbuilt-insecuritydoor.
Onthesecuritycameramountedinthehallwayoutsidemyapartment,Iwatchedthefourdropcopsgetofftheelevatorandsprintdownthehall-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd269
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waytomydoor.Thetwoguysinfrontwerecarryingplasmawelders.
Theothertwoheldindustrial-strengthVoltJoltstunguns.Thesuit,whobroughtuptherear,wascarryingadigitalclipboard.
Iwasn’tsurprisedtoseethem.Iknewwhytheywerehere.Theywereheretocutopenmyapartmentandpullmeoutofit,likeachunkofSpambeingremovedfromacan.
Whentheyreachedmydoor,myscannergavethemtheonce-over,andtheirIDdataflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatallfiveofthesemenwereIOIcreditofficerswithavalidindenturementarrestwarrantforoneBryceLynch,theoccupantofthisapartment.So,inkeepingwithlocal,state,andfederallaw,myapartmentbuilding’ssecuritysystemimmediatelyopenedbothofmysecuritydoorstograntthementrance.ButtheWarDoorthathadjustslammedintoplacekeptthemoutside.
Ofcourse,thedropcopsexpectedmetohaveredundantsecurity,whichiswhythey’dbroughtplasmawelders.
TheIOIdroneinthesuitsqueezedpastthedropcopsandgingerlypressedhisthumbtomydoorintercom.Hisnameandcorporatetitleappearedonmydisplay:MichaelWilson,IOICreditandCollectionsDivision,Employee#IOI-481231.
Wilsonlookedupintothelensofmyhallwaycameraandsmiledpleasantly.“Mr.Lynch,”hesaid.“MynameisMichaelWilson,andI’mwiththeCreditandCollectionsdivisionofInnovativeOnlineIndustries.”Heconsultedhisclipboard.“I’mherebecauseyouhavefailedtomakethelastthreepaymentsonyourIOIVisacard,whichhasanoutstandingbalanceinexcessoftwentythousanddollars.Ourrecordsalsoshowthatyouarecurrentlyunemployedandhavethereforebeenclassifiedasimpecunious.Undercurrentfederallaw,youarenoweligibleformandatoryindenturement.Youwillremainindentureduntilyouhavepaidyourdebttoourcompanyinfull,alongwithallapplicableinterest,processingandlatefees,andanyotherchargesorpenaltiesthatyouincurhenceforth.”Wilsonmotionedtowardthedropcops.“Thesegentlemenareheretoassistmeinapprehendingyouandescortingyoutoyournewplaceofemployment.Werequestthatyouopenyourdoorandgrantusaccesstoyourresidence.Pleasebeawarethatweareauthorizedtoseizeanypersonalbelongingsyouhaveinside.Thesalevalueoftheseitemswill,ofcourse,bedeductedfromyouroutstandingcreditbalance.”
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AsfarasIcouldtell,Wilsonrecitedallofthiswithouttakingasinglebreath,speakingintheflatmonotoneofsomeonewhorepeatsthesamesentencesalldaylong.
Afterabriefpause,Irepliedthroughtheintercom.“Surething,guys.
Justgivemeaminutetogetmypantson.ThenI’llberightout.”
Wilsonfrowned.“Mr.Lynch,ifyoudonotgrantusaccesstoyourresidencewithintenseconds,weareauthorizedtoenterbyforce.Thecostofanydamageresultingfromourforcedentry,includingallpropertydamageandrepairlabor,willbeaddedtoyouroutstandingbalance.Thankyou.”
Wilsonsteppedawayfromtheintercomandnoddedtotheothers.
Oneofthedropcopsimmediatelypowereduphiswelder,andwhenthetipbegantoglowmoltenorange,hebegancuttingthroughmyWarDoor’stitaniumplating.Theotherweldermovedafewfeetfartherdownandbegantocutaholerightthroughthewallofmyapartment.Theseguyshadaccesstothebuilding’ssecurityspecs,sotheyknewthewallsofeachapartmentwerelinedwithsteelplatingandalayerofconcrete,whichtheycouldcutthroughmuchmorequicklythanthetitaniumWarDoor.
Ofcourse,I’dtakentheprecautionofreinforcingmyapartment’swalls,floor,andceiling,withatitaniumalloySageCage,whichI’dassembledpiecebypiece.Oncetheycutthroughmywall,theywouldhavetocutthroughthecage,too.Butthiswouldbuymeonlyfiveorsixextraminutes,atthemost.Thentheywouldbeinside.
I’dheardthatdropcopshadanicknameforthisprocedure—cuttinganindentoutofafortifiedresidencesotheycouldarresthim.TheycalleditdoingaC-section.
Idry-swallowedtwooftheantianxietypillsI’dorderedinpreparationforthisday.I’dalreadytakentwoearlierthatmorning,buttheydidn’tseemtobeworking.
InsidetheOASIS,Iclosedallthewindowsonmydisplayandsetmyaccount’ssecurityleveltomaximum.ThenIpulleduptheScoreboard,justtocheckitonelasttimeandreassuremyselfthatnothinghadchangedandthattheSixersstillhadn’twon.Thetoptenrankingshadbeenstaticforseveraldaysnow.
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HIGHSCORES:
1.Art3mis
354,000
2.Parzival
353,000
3.IOI-655321
352,000
4.Aech
352,000
5.IOI-643187
349,000
6.IOI-621671
348,000
7.IOI-678324
347,000
8.Shoto
347,000
9.IOI-637330
346,000
10.IOI-699423
346,000
Art3mis,Aech,andShotohadallclearedtheSecondGateandobtainedtheCrystalKeywithinforty-eighthoursofreceivingmye-mail.WhenArt3misreceivedthe25,000pointsforreachingtheCrystalKey,ithadputherbackinfirstplace,duetothepointbonusesshe’dalreadyreceivedforfindingtheJadeKeyfirst,andtheCopperKeysecond.
Art3mis,Aech,andShotohadalltriedtocontactmesincereceivingmye-mail,butIhadn’tansweredanyoftheirphonecalls,e-mails,orchatrequests.IsawnoreasontotellthemwhatIintendedtodo.Theycouldn’tdoanythingtohelpmeandwouldprobablyjusttrytotalkmeoutofit.
Therewasnoturningbacknow,anyway.
IclosedtheScoreboardandtookalonglookaroundmystronghold,wonderingifitwasforthelasttime.ThenItookseveralquickdeepbreaths,likeadeep-seadiverpreparingtosubmerge,andtappedthelog-outicononmydisplay.TheOASISvanished,andmyavatarreappearedinsidemyvirtualoffice,astandalonesimulationstoredonmyconsole’sharddrive.Iopenedaconsolewindowandkeyedinthecommandwordtoactivatemycomputer’sself-destructsequence:shitstorm.
Aprogressmeterappearedonmydisplay,showingthatmyharddrivewasnowbeingzeroedoutandwipedclean.
“Good-bye,Max,”Iwhispered.
“Adios,Wade,”Maxsaid,justafewsecondsbeforehewasdeleted.
Sittinginmyhapticchair,Icouldalreadyfeeltheheatcomingfromtheothersideoftheroom.WhenIpulledoffmyvisor,IsawsmokepouringClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd272
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inthroughtheholesbeingcutinthedoorandthewall.Itwasstartingtogettoothickformyapartment’sairpurifierstohandle.Ibegantocough.
Thedropcopworkingonmydoorfinishedcuttinghishole.Thesmokingcircleofmetalfelltothefloorwithaheavymetallicboomthatmademejumpinmychair.
Astheweldersteppedback,anotherdropcopsteppedforwardandusedasmallcanistertospraysomesortoffreezingfoamaroundtheedgeofthehole,coolingoffthemetalsotheywouldn’tburnthemselveswhentheycrawledinside.Whichwaswhattheywereabouttodo.
“Clear!”oneofthemshoutedfromoutinthehallway.“Novisibleweapons!”
Oneofthestun-gunwieldingdropcopsclimbedthroughtheholefirst.
Suddenly,hewasstandingrightinfrontofme,hisweaponleveledatmyface.
“Don’tmove!”heshouted.“Oryougetthejuice,understand?”
Inoddedthatyes,Iunderstood.ItoccurredtomethenthatthiscopwasthefirstvisitorI’deverhadinmyapartmentinallthetimeI’dlivedthere.
Theseconddropcoptocrawlinsidewasn’tnearlyaspolite.Withoutaword,hewalkedoverandjammedaballgaginmymouth.Thiswasstandardprocedure,becausetheydidn’twantmetoissueanymorevoicecommandstomycomputer.Theyneedn’thavebothered.Themomentthefirstdropcophadenteredmyapartment,anincendiarydevicehaddetonatedinsidemycomputer.Itwasalreadymeltingtoslag.
Whenthedropcopfinishedstrappingontheballgag,hegrabbedmebytheexoskeletonofmyhapticsuit,yankedmeoutofmyhapticchairlikearagdoll,andthrewmeonthefloor.TheotherdropcophitthekillswitchthatopenedmyWarDoor,andthelasttwodropcopsrushedin,followedbyWilsonthesuit.
Icurledintoaballonthefloorandclosedmyeyes.Istartedtoshakeinvoluntarily.ItriedtopreparemyselfforwhatIknewwasabouttohappennext.
Theyweregoingtotakemeoutside.
“Mr.Lynch,”Wilsonsaid,smiling.“Iherebyplaceyouundercorporatearrest.”Heturnedtothedropcops.“Telltherepoteamtocomeonupandclearthisplaceout.”Heglancedaroundtheroomandnoticedthethinlineofsmokenowpouringoutofmycomputer.HelookedatmeandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd273
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shookhishead.“Thatwasstupid.Wecouldhavesoldthatcomputertohelppay
downyourdebt.”
Icouldn’treplyaroundtheballgag,soIjustshruggedandgavehimthefinger.
Theytoreoffmyhapticsuitandleftitfortherepoteam.Iwastotallynakedunderneath.Theygavemeadisposableslate-grayjumpsuittoputon,withmatchingplasticshoes.Thesuitfeltlikesandpaper,anditbegantomakemeitchassoonasIputiton.They’dcuffedmyhands,soitwasn’teasytoscratch.
Theydraggedmeoutintothehall.Theharshfluorescentssuckedthecoloroutofeverythingandmadeitlooklikeanoldblack-and-whitefilm.
Aswerodetheelevatordowntothelobby,IhummedalongwiththeMuzakasloudlyasIcould,toshowthemIwasn’tafraid.Whenoneofthedropcopswavedhisstungunatme,Istopped.
Theyputahoodedwintercoatonmeinthelobby.Theydidn’twantmecatchingpneumonianowthatIwascompanyproperty.Ahumanresource.Thentheyledmeoutside,andsunlighthitmyfaceforthefirsttimeinoverhalfayear.
Itwassnowing,andeverythingwascoveredinathinlayerofgrayiceandslush.Ididn’tknowwhatthetemperaturewas,butIcouldn’tremembereverfeelingsocold.Thewindcutrighttomybones.
Theyherdedmeovertotheirtransporttruck.Twonewindentsalreadysatintheback,strappedintoplasticseats,bothwearingvisors.Peoplethey’darrestedearlierthatmorning.Thedropcopswerelikegarbagecol-lectors,makingtheirdailyrounds.
Theindentonmyrightwasatall,thinguy,probablyafewyearsolderthanme.Helookedlikehemightbesufferingfrommalnutrition.Theotherindentwasmorbidlyobese,andIcouldn’tbesureoftheperson’sgender.Idecidedtothinkofhimasmale.Hisfacewasobscuredbyamopofdirtyblondhair,andsomethingthatlookedlikeagasmaskcoveredhisnoseandmouth.Athickblacktuberanfromthemaskdowntoanozzleonthefloor.Iwasn’tsureofitspurposeuntilhelurchedforward,drawinghisrestraintstight,andvomitedintothemask.Iheardavacuumactivate,suckingtheindent’sregurgitatedOreosdownthetubeandintothefloor.
Iwonderediftheystoreditinanexternaltankorjustdumpeditonthestreet.
Probablyatank.IOIwouldprobablyhavehisvomitanalyzedandputtheresultsinhisfile.
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“Youfeelsick?”oneofthedropcopsaskedasheremovedmyballgag.
“TellmenowandI’llputamaskonyou.”
“Ifeelgreat,”Isaid,notveryconvincingly.
“OK.ButifIhavetocleanupyourpuke,I’llmakesureyouregretit.”
Theyshovedmeinsideandstrappedmedowndirectlyacrossfromtheskinnyguy.Twoofthedropcopsclimbedintothebackwithus,stowingtheirplasmaweldersinalocker.Theothertwoslammedthereardoorsandclimbedintothecabupfront.
Aswepulledawayfrommyapartmentcomplex,Icranedmynecktolookthroughthetransport’stintedrearwindows,upatthebuildingwhereI’dlivedforthepastyear.Iwasabletospotmywindowupontheforty-secondfloor,becauseofitsspray-paintedblackglass.Therepoteamwasprobablyalreadyuptherebynow.Allofmygearwasbeingdisassembled,inventoried,tagged,boxed,andpreparedforauction.Oncetheyfinishedemptyingoutmyapartment,custodialbotswouldscouranddisinfectit.
Arepaircrewwouldpatchtheouterwallandreplacethedoor.IOIwouldbebilled,andthecostoftherepairswouldbeaddedtomyoutstandingdebttothecompany.
Bymidafternoon,theluckygunterwhowasnextontheapartmentbuilding’swaitinglistwouldgetamessageinforminghimthataunithadopenedup,andbythisevening,thenewtenantwouldprobablyalreadybemovedin.Bythetimethesunwentdown,allevidencethatI’deverlivedtherewouldbetotally
erased.
AsthetransportswungoutontoHighStreet,Iheardthetirescrunchthesaltcrystalscoveringthefrozenasphalt.Oneofthedropcopsreachedoverandslappedavisoronmyface.Ifoundmyselfsittingonasandywhitebeach,watchingthesunsetwhilewavescrashedinfrontofme.Thismustbethesimulationtheyusedtokeepindentscalmduringtheridedowntown.
Usingmycuffedhand,Ipushedthevisorupontomyforehead.Thedropcopsdidn’tseemtocareorpaymeanynoticeatall.SoIcranedmyheadagaintostareoutthewindow.Ihadn’tbeenouthereintherealworldforalongtime,andIwantedtoseehowithadchanged.
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Athickfilmofneglectstillcoveredeverythinginsight.Thestreets,thebuildings,thepeople.Eventhesnowseemeddirty.Itdrifteddowningrayflakes,likeashafteravolcaniceruption.
Thenumberofhomelesspeopleseemedtohaveincreaseddrastically.
Tentsandcardboardshelterslinedthestreets,andthepublicparksIsawseemedtohavebeenconvertedintorefugeecamps.Asthetransportrolleddeeperintothecity’sskyscrapercore,Isawpeopleclusteredoneverystreetcornerandineveryvacantlot,huddledaroundburningbarrelsandportablefuel-cellheaters.Otherswaitedinlineatthefreesolarchargingstations,wearingbulky,outdatedvisorsandhapticgloves.Theirhandsmadesmall,ghostlygesturesastheyinteractedwiththefarmorepleasantrealityoftheOASISviaoneofGSS’sfreewirelessaccesspoints.
Finally,wereached101IOIPlaza,intheheartofdowntown.
IstaredoutthewindowinsilentapprehensionasthecorporateheadquartersofInnovativeOnlineIndustriesInc.cameintoview:tworectangularskyscrapersfl
ankingacircularone,formingtheIOIcorporatelogo.TheIOIskyscraperswerethethreetallestbuildingsinthecity,mightytowersofsteelandmirroredglassjoinedbydozensofconnectivewalkwaysandelevatortrams.Thetopofeachtowerdisappearedintothesodium-vapor-drenchedcloudlayerabove.ThebuildingslookedidenticaltotheirheadquartersintheOASISonIOI-1,buthereintherealworldtheyseemedmuchmoreimpressive.
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toweranddescendedaseriesofconcreterampsuntilwearrivedinalargeopenarearesemblingaloadingdock.Asignoverarowofwidebaydoorsreadioiindenturedemployeeinductioncenter.
TheotherindentsandIwereherdedoffthetransport,whereasquadofstungun–armedsecurityguardswaswaitingtotakecustodyofus.
Ourhandcuffswereremoved;thenanotherguardbegantoswipeeachofuswithahandheldretinascanner.Iheldmybreathasheheldthescanneruptomyeyes.Asecondlater,theunitbeepedandhereadofftheinformationonitsdisplay.“Lynch,Bryce.Agetwenty-two.Fullcitizen-ship.Nocriminalrecord.CreditDefaultIndenturement.”Henoddedtohimselfandtappedaseriesoficonsonhisclipboard.ThenIwasledintoawarm,brightlylitroomfilledwithhundredsofothernewindents.Theywereallshufflingthroughamazeofguideropes,likewearyovergrownchildrenatsomenightmarishamusementpark.Thereseemedtobeanequalnumberofmenandwomen,butitwashardtotell,becausenearlyeveryonesharedmypalecomplexionandtotallackofbodyhair,andweallworethesamegrayjumpsuitsandgrayplasticshoes.WelookedlikeextrasfromTHX1138.
Thelinefedintoaseriesofsecuritycheckpoints.Atthefirstcheckpoint,eachindentwasgivenathoroughscanwithabrand-newMeta-detectortomakesuretheyweren’thidinganyelectronicdevicesonorintheirpersons.WhileIwaitedformyturn,Isawseveralpeoplepulledoutoflinewhenthescannerfounda
subcutaneousminicomputeroravoice-controlledphoneinstalledasatoothreplacement.Theywereledintoanotherroomtohavethedevicesremoved.Adudejustaheadofmeinlineactuallyhadatop-of-the-lineminiatureSinatroOASISconsoleconcealedinsideaprosthetictesticle.Talkaboutballs.
OnceI’dclearedafewmorecheckpoints,Iwasusheredintothetestingarea,agiantroomfilledwithhundredsofsmall,soundproofedcubicles.
Iwasseatedinoneofthemandgivenacheapvisorandanevencheaperpairofhapticgloves.Thegeardidn’tgivemeaccesstotheOASIS,butIstillfounditcomfortingtoputiton.
Iwasthengivenabatteryofincreasinglydifficultaptitudetestsintendedtomeasuremyknowledgeandabilitiesineveryareathatmightconceivablybeofusetomynewemployer.Thesetestswere,ofcourse,cross-referencedwiththefakeeducationalbackgroundandworkhistorythatI’dgiventomybogusBryceLynchidentity.
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ImadesuretoaceallofthetestsonOASISsoftware,hardware,andnetworking,butIintentionallyfailedthetestsdesignedtogaugemyknowledgeofJamesHallidayandtheEasteregg.Idefinitelydidn’twanttogetplacedinIOI’sOologyDivision.TherewasachanceImightrunintoSorrentothere.Ididn’tthinkhe’drecognizeme—we’dneveractuallymetinperson,andInowbarelyresembledmyoldschoolIDphoto—
butIdidn’twanttoriskit.Iwasalreadytemptingfatemorethananyoneintheirrightmindeverwould.
Hourslater,whenIfinallyfinishedthelastexam,Iwasloggedintoavirtualchatroomtomeetwithanindenturementcounselor.HernamewasNancy,andinahypnoticmonotone,sheinformedmethat,duetomyexemplarytestscoresandimpressiveemploymentrecord,Ihadbeen
“awarded”thepositionofOASISTechnicalSupportRepresentativeII.Iwouldbepaid$28,500ayear,minusthecostofmyhousing,meals,taxes,medical,dental,optical,andrecreationservices,allofwhichwouldbedeductedautomaticallyfrommypay.Myremainingincome(iftherewasany)wouldbeappliedtomyoutstandingdebttothecompany.Oncemydebtwaspaidinfull,Iwouldbereleasedfromindenturement.Atthattime,basedonmyjobperformance,itwaspossibleIwouldbeofferedapermanentpositionwithIOI.
Thiswasacompletejoke,ofcourse.Indentswereneverabletopayofftheirdebtandearntheirrelease.Oncetheygotfinishedslappingyouwithpaydeductions,latefees,andinterestpenalties,youwoundupowingthemmoreeachmonth,insteadofless.Onceyoumadethemistakeofgettingyourselfindentured,youwouldprobablyremainindenturedforlife.Alotofpeopledidn’tseemtomindthis,though.Theythoughtofitasjobsecurity.Italsomeanttheyweren’tgoingtostarveorfreezetodeathinthestreet.
My“IndenturementContract”appearedinawindowonmydisplay.
Itcontainedalonglistofdisclaimersandwarningsaboutmyrights(orlackthereof)asanindenturedemployee.Nancytoldmetoreadit,signit,andproceedtoIndentProcessing.Thensheloggedoutofthechatroom.Iscrolledtothebottomofthecontractwithoutbotheringtoreadit.Itwasoversixhundredpageslong.IsignedthenameBryceLynch,thenverifiedmysignaturewitharetinalscan.
EventhoughIwasusingafakename,Iwonderedifthecontractmightstillbelegallybinding.Iwasn’tsure,andIdidn’treallycare.Ihadaplan,andthiswaspartofit.
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Theyledmedownanothercorridor,intotheIndenturementProcessingArea.Iwasplacedonaconveyorbeltthatcarriedmethroughalongseriesofstations.First,theytookmyjumpsuitandshoesandincineratedthem.Thentheyranme
throughakindofhumancarwash—aseriesofmachinesthatsoaped,scrubbed,disinfected,rinsed,dried,anddelousedme.Afterward,Iwasgivenanewgrayjumpsuitandanotherpairofplasticslippers.
Atthenextstation,abankofmachinesgavemeacompletephysical,includingabatteryofbloodtests.(Luckily,theGeneticPrivacyActmadeitillegalforIOItosamplemyDNA.)ThenIwasgivenaseriesofinocula-tionswithanarrayofautomatedneedlegunsthatshotmeinbothshouldersandbothasscheekssimultaneously.
AsIinchedforwardalongtheconveyor,flat-screenmonitorsmountedoverheadshowedthesameten-minutetrainingfilmoverandover,onanendlessloop:“IndenturedServitude:YourFastTrackfromDebttoSuccess!”ThecastwasmadeupofD-listtelevisionstarswhocheerfullyspoutedcorporatepropagandawhilerelatingtheminutiaeofIOI’sindenturementpolicy.Afterfiveviewings,Ihadeverylineofthedamnthingmemorized.Bythetenthviewing,Iwasmouthingthewordsalongwiththeactors.
“WhatcanIexpectafterIcompletemyinitialprocessingandgetplacedinmypermanentposition?”askedJohnny,thetrainingfilm’smaincharacter.
Youcanexpecttospendtherestofyourlifeasacorporateslave,Johnny,Ithought.ButIkeptwatchingas,onceagain,thehelpfulIOIHumanResourcesreppleasantlytoldJohnnyallabouttheday-to-daylifeofanindent.
Finally,Ireachedthelaststation,whereamachinefittedmewithasecurityanklet—apaddedmetalbandthatlockedaroundmyankle,justabovethejoint.Accordingtothetrainingfilm,thisdevicemonitoredmyphysicallocationandalsograntedordeniedmeaccesstodifferentareasoftheIOIofficecomplex.IfItriedtoescape,removetheanklet,orcausetroubleofanykind,thedevicewascapableofdeliveringaparalyzingelectricalshock.Ifnecessary,itcouldalsoadministeraheavy-dutytranquil-izerdirectlyintomybloodstream.
Aftertheankletwason,anothermachineclampedasmallelectronicdeviceontomyrightearlobe,piercingitintwolocations.IwincedinpainClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd279
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andshoutedastreamofprofanity.IknewfromthetrainingfilmthatI’djustbeenfittedwithanOCT.OCTstoodfor“observationandcommunicationtag.”Butmostindentsjustreferredtoitas“eargear.”Itremindedmeofthetagsenvironmentalistsusedtoputonendangeredanimals,totracktheirmovementsinthewild.TheeargearcontainedatinycomlinkthatallowedthemainIOIHumanResourcescomputertomakeannouncementsandissuecommandsdirectlyintomyear.Italsocontainedatinyforward-lookingcamerathatletIOIsupervisorsseewhateverwasdirectlyinfrontofme.SurveillancecamerasweremountedineveryroomintheIOIcomplex,butthatapparentlywasn’tenough.Theyalsohadtomountacameratothesideofeveryindent’shead.
Afewsecondsaftermyeargearwasattachedandactivated,IbegantoheartheplacidmonotoneoftheHRmainframe,droninginstructionsandotherinformation.Thevoicedrovemenutsatfirst,butIgraduallygotusedtoit.Ididn’thavemuchchoice.
AsIsteppedofftheconveyor,theHRcomputerdirectedmetoanearbycafeteriathatlookedlikesomethingoutofanoldprisonmovie.Iwasgivenalimegreentrayoffood.Atastelesssoyburger,alumpofrunnymashedpotatoes,andsomeunrecognizableformofcobblerfordessert.
Idevouredallofitinafewminutes.TheHRcomputercomplimentedmeonmyhealthyappetite.ThenitinformedmethatIwasnowpermittedtomakeafive-minutevisittothebathroom.WhenIcameout,Iwasdirectedontoanelevatorwithnobuttonsorfloorindicator.Whenthedoorsslidopen,Isawthefollowingstenciledonthewall:indenthab—
block05—techsupreps.
Ishuffledofftheelevatoranddownthecarpetedhallway.Itwasquietanddark.Theonlyilluminationcamefromsmallpathlightingembeddedinthefloor.I’dlosttrackofthetime.ItseemedlikedayshadpassedsinceI’dbeenpulledoutofmyapartment.Iwasdeadonmyfeet.
“Yourfirsttechnicalsupportshiftbeginsinsevenhours,”theHRcomputerdronedsoftlyinmyear.“Youhaveuntilthentosleep.Turnleftattheintersectioninfrontofyouandproceedtoyourassignedhab-unit,number42G.”
IcontinuedtodoasIwastold.IthoughtIwasalreadygettingprettygoodatit.
TheHabBlockremindedmeofamausoleum.Itwasanetworkofvaultedhallways,eachlinedwithcoffin-shapedsleepingcapsules,rowClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd280
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afterrowofthem,stackedtotheceiling,tenhigh.Eachcolumnofhab-unitswasnumbered,andthedoorofeachcapsulewaslettered,AthroughJ,withunitAatthebottom.
Ieventuallyreachedmyunit,nearthetopofcolumnnumberforty-two.AsIapproachedit,thehatchirisedopenwithahiss,andasoftbluelightwinkedoninside.Iascendedthenarrowaccessladdermountedbetweentheadjacentrowsofcapsules,thensteppedontotheshortplatformbeneaththehatchtomyunit.WhenIclimbedinsidethecapsule,theplatformretractedandthehatchirisedshutatmyfeet.
Theinsideofmyhab-unitwasaneggshellwhiteinjection-moldedplasticcoffin,ameterhigh,ameterwide,andtwometerslong.Thefloorofthecapsulewascoveredwithagel-foammattresspadandpillow.Theybothsmelledlikeburnedrubber,soIassumedtheymustbenew.
Inadditiontothecameraattachedtothesideofmyhead,therewasacameramountedabovethedoorofmyhab-unit.Thecompanydidn’tbotherhidingit.Theywantedtheirindentstoknowtheywerebeingwatched.
Theunit’sonlyamenitywastheentertainmentconsole—alarge,flattouchscreenbuiltintothewall.Awirelessvisorwassnappedintoaholderbesideit.Itappedthetouchscreen,activatingtheunit.Mynewemployeenumberandpositionappearedatthetopofthedisplay:Lynch,BryceT.—
OASISTECHREPII—IOIEmployee#338645.
Amenuappearedbelow,listingtheentertainmentprogrammingtowhichI
presentlyhadaccess.Ittookonlyafewsecondstoperusemylimitedoptions.Icouldviewonlyonechannel:IOI-N—thecompany’stwenty-four-hournewsnetwork.Itprovidedanonstopstreamofcompany-relatednewsandpropaganda.Ialsohadaccesstoalibraryoftrainingfilmsandsimulations,mostofwhichweregearedtowardmynewpositionasanOASIStechnicalsupportrepresentative.
WhenItriedtoaccessoneoftheotherentertainmentlibraries,VintageMovies,thesysteminformedmethatIwouldn’tbegrantedaccesstoawiderselectionofentertainmentoptionsuntilIhadreceivedanabove-averageratinginthreeconsecutiveemployeeperformancereviews.ThenthesystemaskedmeifIwantedmoreinformationontheIndenturedEmployeeEntertainmentRewardProgram.Ididn’t.
TheonlyTVshowIhadaccesstowasacompany-producedsitcomcalledTommyQueue.Thesynopsissaiditwasa“wackysituationcomedyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd281
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chroniclingthemisadventuresofTommy,anewlyindenturedOASIStechrepstrugglingtoachievehisgoalsoffinancialindependenceandon-the-jobexcellence!”
IselectedthefirstepisodeofTommyQueue,thenunsnappedthevisorandputiton.AsIexpected,theshowwasreallyjustatrainingfilmwithalaughtrack.Ihadabsolutelynointerestinit.Ijustwantedtogotosleep.
ButIknewIwasbeingwatched,andthateverymoveImadewasbeingscrutinizedandlogged.SoIstayedawakeaslongasIcould,ignoringoneepisodeofTommyQueueafteranother.
Despitemybestefforts,mythoughtsdriftedtoArt3mis.RegardlessofwhatI’dbeentellingmyself,IknewshewastherealreasonI’dgonethroughwiththislunaticplan.Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?TherewasagoodchanceImightneverescapefromthisplace.Ifeltburiedunderanavalancheofself-
doubt.HadmydualobsessionswiththeeggandArt3misfinallydrivenmecompletelyinsane?WhywouldItakesuchanidioticrisktowinoversomeoneI’dneveractuallymet?Someonewhoappearedtohavenointerestinevertalkingtomeagain?
Wherewassherightnow?Didshemissme?
IcontinuedtomentallytorturemyselflikethatuntilIfinallydriftedofftosleep.
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IOI’sTechnicalSupportcallcenteroccupiedthreeentirefloorsoftheheadquarters’easternI-shapedtower.Eachofthesefloorscontainedamazeofnumberedcubicles.Minewasstuckbackinaremotecorner,farfromanywindows.Mycubiclewascompletelyemptyexceptforanadjustableofficechairboltedtothefloor.Severalofthecubiclesaroundmewereunoccupied,awaitingthearrivalofothernewindents.
Iwasn’tpermittedtohaveanydecorationsinmycubicle,becauseIhadn’tearnedthatprivilegeyet.IfIobtainedasufficientnumberof“perkpoints”bygettinghighproductivityandcustomerapprovalratings,Icould“spend”someofthemtopurchasetheprivilegeofdecoratingmycube,perhapswithapottedplantoraninspirationalposterofakittenhangingfromaclothesline.
WhenIarrivedinmycubicle,Igrabbedmycompany-issuedvisorandglovesfromtherackonthebarecubewallandputthemon.ThenIcollapsedintomychair.Myworkcomputerwasbuiltintothechair’scircularbase,anditactivateditselfautomaticallywhenIsatdown.MyemployeeIDwasverifiedandIwasautomaticallyloggedintomyworkaccountontheIOIintranet.Iwasn’tallowedtohaveanyoutboundaccesstotheOASIS.AllIcouldreallydowasreadwork-relatede-mails,viewsupportdocumentationandproceduralmanuals,andcheckmycalltimestatistics.Thatwasit.AndeverymoveImadeontheintranetwascloselymonitored,controlled,andlogged.
Iputmyselfinthecallqueueandbeganmytwelve-hourshift.I’dbeenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd283
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anindentforonlyeightdaysnow,butitalreadyfeltlikeI’dbeenimprisonedhereforyears.
Thefirstcaller’savatarappearedinfrontofmeinmysupportchatroom.Hisnameandstatsalsoappeared,floatingintheairabovehim.Hehadtheastoundinglyclevernameof“HotCock007.”
Icouldseethatitwasgoingtobeanotherfabulousday.
HotCock007wasahulkingbaldbarbarianwithstuddedblackleatherarmorandlotsofdemontattooscoveringhisarmsandface.Hewasholdingagiganticbastardswordnearlytwiceaslongashisavatar’sbody.
“Goodmorning,Mr.HotCock007,”Idroned.“Thankyouforcallingtechnicalsupport.I’mtechrepnumber338645.HowmayIhelpyouthisevening?”Thecustomercourtesysoftwarefilteredmyvoice,alteringitstoneandinflectiontoensurethatIalwayssoundedcheerfulandupbeat.
“Uh,yeah...”HotCock007began.“Ijustboughtthisbad-asssword,andnowIcan’tevenuseit!Ican’tevenattacknothingwithit.Whatthehelliswrongwiththispieceofshit?Isitbroke?”
“Sir,theonlyproblemisthatyou’reacompletefuckingmoron,”Isaid.
Iheardafamiliarwarningbuzzerandamessageflashedonmydisplay:COURTESYVIOLATION—FLAGS:FUCKING,MORON
LASTRESPONSEMUTED—VIOLATIONLOGGED
IOI’spatentedcustomercourtesysoftwarehaddetectedtheinappro-priatenatureofmyresponseandmutedit,sothecustomerdidn’thearwhatI’dsaid.The
softwarealsologgedmy“courtesyviolation”andforwardedittoTrevor,mysectionsupervisor,sothathecouldbringitupduringmynextbiweeklyperformancereview.
“Sir,didyoupurchasethisswordinanonlineauction?”
“Yeah,”HotCock007replied.“Paidouttheassforittoo.”
“Justamoment,sir,whileIexaminetheitem.”Ialreadyknewwhathisproblemwas,butIneededtomakesurebeforetellinghimorI’dgethitwithafine.
Itappedtheswordwithmyindexfinger,selectingit.Asmallwindowopenedanddisplayedtheitem’sproperties.Theanswerwasrightthere,onthefirstline.Thisparticularmagicswordcouldonlybeusedbyanavatarwhowastenthlevelorhigher.Mr.HotCock007wasonlyseventhlevel.Iquicklyexplainedthistohim.
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“What?!Thatain’tfair!Theguywhosoldittomedidn’tsaynothingaboutthat!”
“Sir,it’salwaysadvisabletomakesureyouravatarcanactuallyuseanitembeforeyoupurchaseit.”
“Goddammit!”heshouted.“Well,whatamIsupposedtodowithitnow?”
“Youcouldshoveitupyourassandpretendyou’reacorndog.”
COURTESYVIOLATION—RESPONSEMUTED—VIOLATIONLOGGED.
Itriedagain.“Sir,youmightwanttokeeptheitemstoredinyourinventoryuntilyouravatarhasattainedtenthlevel.Oryoumaywishtoputtheitembackupforauctionyourselfandusetheproceedstopurchaseasimilarweapon.Onewitha
powerlevelcommensuratetothatofyouravatar.”
“Huh?”HotCock007responded.“Whaddyamean?”
“Saveitorsellit.”
“Oh.”
“CanIhelpyouwithanythingelsetoday,sir?”
“No,Idon’tguess—”
“Great.Thankyouforcallingtechnicalsupport.Haveanoutstandingday.”
Itappedthedisconnecticononmydisplay,andHotCock007vanished.
CallTime:2:07.Asthenextcustomer’savatarappeared—ared-skinned,large-breastedalienfemalenamedVartaxxx—thecustomersatisfactionratingthatHotCock007hadjustgivenmeappearedonmydisplay.Itwasa6,outofapossiblescoreof10.ThesystemthenhelpfullyremindedmethatIneededtokeepmyaverageabove8.5ifIwantedtogetaraiseaftermynextreview.
Doingtechsupportherewasnothinglikeworkingfromhome.Here,Icouldn’twatchmovies,playgames,orlistentomusicwhileIansweredtheendlessstreamofinanecalls.Theonlydistractionwasstaringattheclock.(OrtheIOIstockticker,whichwasalwaysatthetopofeveryindent’sdisplay.Youcouldn’tgetridofit.)Duringeachshift,Iwasgiventhreefive-minuterestroombreaks.
Lunchwasthirtyminutes.Iusuallyateinmycubicleinsteadofthecafeteria,soIwouldn’thavetolistentotheothertechrepsbitchabouttheirClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd285
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callsorboastabouthowmanyperkpointsthey’dearned.I’dgrowntodespisetheotherindentsalmostasmuchasthecustomers.
Ifellasleepfiveseparatetimesduringmyshift.Eachtime,whenthesystemsawthatI’ddriftedoff,itsoundedawarningklaxoninmyears,joltingmebackawake.Thenitnotedtheinfractioninmyemployeedatafile.MynarcolepsyhadbecomesuchaconsistentproblemduringmyfirstweekthatIwasnowbeingissuedtwolittleredpillseachdaytohelpmestayawake.Itookthemtoo.ButnotuntilafterIgotoffwork.
Whenmyshiftfinallyended,Irippedoffmyheadsetandvisorandwalkedbacktomyhab-unitasquicklyasIcould.ThiswastheonlytimeeachdayIeverhurriedanywhere.WhenIreachedmytinyplasticcoffin,Icrawledinsideandcollapsedonthemattress,facedown,inthesameexactpositionasthenightbefore.Andthenightbeforethat.Ilaythereforafewminutes,staringatthetimereadoutonmyentertainmentconsoleoutofthecornerofmyeye.Whenitreached7:07p.m.,Irolledoverandsatup.
“Lights,”Isaidsoftly.Thishadbecomemyfavoritewordoverthepastweek.Inmymind,ithadbecomesynonymouswithfreedom.
Thelightsembeddedintheshellofmyhab-unitshutoff,plungingthetinycompartmentintodarkness.Ifsomeonehadbeenwatchingeitherofmylivesecurityvidfeeds,theywouldhaveseenabriefflashasthecamerasswitchedtonight-visionmode.ThenIwouldhavebeenclearlyvisibleontheirmonitorsonceagain.But,thankstosomesabotageI’dperformedearlierintheweek,thesecuritycamerasinmyhab-unitandmyeargearwerenownolongerperformingtheirassignedtasks.Soforthefirsttimethatday,Iwasn’tbeingwatched.
Thatmeantitwastimetorock.
Itappedtheentertainmentcenterconsole’stouchscreen.Itlitup,presentingmewiththesamechoicesI’dhadonmyfirstnighthere:ahandfuloftrainingfilmsandsimulations,includingthecompleterunofTommyQueueepisodes.
Ifanyonecheckedtheusagelogsformyentertainmentcenter,theywouldshowthatIwatchedTommyQueueeverynightuntilIfellasleep,andthatonceI’dworkedmywaythroughallsixteenepisodes,I’dstartedoveratthebeginning.ThelogswouldalsoshowthatIfellasleepatroughlythesametimeeverynight(butnotatexactlythesametime),andthatIsleptlikethedeaduntilthefollowingmorning,whenmyalarmsounded.
Ofcourse,Ihadn’treallybeenwatchingtheirinanecorporateshitcom
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everynight.AndIwasn’tsleeping,either.I’dactuallybeenoperatingonabouttwohoursofsleepanightforthepastweek,anditwasbeginningtotakeitstollonme.
Butthemomentthelightsinmyhab-unitwentout,Ifeltenergizedandwideawake.MyexhaustionseemedtovanishasIbegantonavigatethroughtheentertainmentcenteroperationmenusfrommemory,thefingersofmyrighthanddancingrapidlyacrossthetouchscreen.
Aboutsevenmonthsearlier,I’dobtainedasetofIOIintranetpasswordsfromtheL33tHax0rzWarezhaus,thesameblack-marketdataauctionsitewhereI’dpurchasedtheinformationneededtocreateanewidentity.Ikeptaneyeonalloftheblack-marketdatasites,becauseyouneverknewwhatmightbeupforsaleonthem.OASISserverexploits.
ATMhacks.Celebritysextapes.Younameit.I’dbeenbrowsingthroughtheL33tHax0rzWarezhausauctionlistingswhenoneinparticularcaughtmyeye:IOIIntranetAccessPasswords,BackDoors,andSystemExploits.ThesellerclaimedtobeofferingclassifiedproprietaryinformationonIOI’sintranetarchitecture,alongwithaseriesofadministrativeaccesscodesandsystemexploitsthatcould“giveausercarteblancheinsidethecompanynetwork.”
Iwouldhaveassumedthedatawasbogushaditnotbeenlistedonsucharespectedsite.TheanonymoussellerclaimedtobeaformerIOIcontractprogrammerandoneoftheleadarchitectsofitscompanyintranet.
Hewasprobablyaturncoat—aprogrammerwhointentionallycodedbackdoorsandsecurityholesintoasystemhedesigned,sothathecouldlatersellthemontheblackmarket.Itallowedhimtogetpaidforthesamejobtwice,andtosalveanyguilthefeltaboutworkingforademonicmultinationalcorporationlikeIOI.
Theobviousproblem,whichthesellerdidn’tbothertopointoutintheauction
listing,wasthatthesecodeswereuselessunlessyoualreadyhadaccesstothecompanyintranet.IOI’sintranetwasahigh-security,standalonenetworkwithnodirectconnectionstotheOASIS.TheonlywaytogetaccesstoIOI’sintranetwastobecomeoneoftheirlegitimateemployees(verydifficultandtime-consuming).Oryoucouldjointhecompany’sever-growingranksofindenturedservants.
I’ddecidedtobidontheIOIaccesscodesanyway,ontheoffchancetheymightcomeinhandysomeday.Sincetherewasnowaytoverifythedata’sauthenticity,thebiddingstayedlow,andIwontheauctionforafewthousandcredits.ThecodesarrivedinmyinboxafewminutesaftertheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd287
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auctionended.OnceI’dfinisheddecryptingthedata,Iexamineditallthoroughly.Everythinglookedlegit,soIfiledtheinfoawayforarainydayandforgotaboutit—untilaboutsixmonthslater,whenIsawtheSixerbarricadearoundCastleAnorak.ThefirstthingIthoughtofwastheIOIaccesscodes.Thenthewheelsinmyheadbegantoturnandmyridiculousplanbegantotakeshape.
IwouldalterthefinancialrecordsonmybogusBryceLynchidentityandallowmyselftobecomeindenturedbyIOI.OnceIinfiltratedthebuildingandgotbehindthecompanyfirewall,IwouldusetheintranetpasswordstohackintotheSixers’privatedatabase,thenfigureawaytobringdowntheshieldthey’derectedoverAnorak’scastle.
Ididn’tthinkanyonewouldanticipatethismove,becauseitwassoclearlyinsane.
...
Ididn’ttesttheIOIpasswordsuntilthesecondnightofmyindenturement.Iwasunderstandablyanxious,becauseifitturnedoutI’dbeensoldbogusdataandnoneofthepasswordsworked,Iwouldhavesoldmyselfintolifelongslavery.
Keepingmyeargearcamerapointedstraightahead,awayfromthescreen,Ipulleduptheentertainmentconsole’sviewersettingsmenu,whichallowedmetomakeadjustmentstothedisplay’saudioandvideooutput:volumeandbalance,brightnessandtint.Icrankedeachoptionuptoitshighestsetting,thentappedtheApplybuttonatthebottomofthescreenthreetimes.IsetthevolumeandbrightnesscontrolstotheirlowestsettingsandtappedtheApplybuttonagain.Asmallwindowappearedinthecenterofthescreen,promptingmeforamaintenance-techIDnumberandaccesspassword.IquicklyenteredtheIDnumberandthelongalphanumericpasswordthatI’dmemorized.Icheckedbothforerrorsoutofthecornerofmyeye,thentappedok.Thesystempausedforwhatseemedlikeaverylongtime.Then,tomygreatrelief,thefollowingmessageappeared:
MAINTENANCECONTROLPANEL—ACCESSGRANTED
Inowhadaccesstoamaintenanceserviceaccountdesignedtoallowrepairmentotestanddebugtheentertainmentunit’svariouscomponents.Iwasnowloggedinasatechnician,butmyaccesstotheintranetClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd288
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wasstillprettylimited.Still,itgavemealltheelbowroomIneeded.
Usinganexploitleftbyoneoftheprogrammers,Iwasnowabletocreateabogusadminaccount.Oncethatwassetup,Ihadaccesstojustabouteverything.
Myfirstorderofbusinesswastogetsomeprivacy.
IquicklynavigatedthroughseveraldozensubmenusuntilIreachedthecontrolpanelfortheIndentMonitoringSystem.WhenIenteredmyemployeenumbermyindentprofileappearedonthedisplay,alongwithamugshotthey’dtakenofmeduringmyinitialprocessing.Theprofilelistedmyindentaccountbalance,paygrade,bloodtype,currentperformancereviewrating—everyscrapofdatathecompanyhadonme.Atthetoprightofmyprofileweretwovidfeed
windows,onefedbythecamerainmyeargear,theotherlinkedtothecamerainmyhab-unit.Myeargearvidfeedwascurrentlyaimedatasectionofthewall.Thehab-unitcamerawindowshowedaviewofthebackofmyhead,whichI’dpositionedtoblocktheentertainmentcenter’sdisplayscreen.
Iselectedbothvidfeedcamerasandaccessedtheirconfigurationsettings.Usingoneoftheturncoat’sexploits,Iperformedaquickhackthatcausedmyeargearandhab-unitcamerastodisplaythearchivedvideofrommyfirstnightofindenturementinsteadofalivefeed.Now,ifsomeonecheckedmycamerafeeds,they’dseemelyingasleepinmyhab-unit,notsittingupallnight,furiouslyhackingmywaythroughthecompanyintranet.ThenIprogrammedthecamerastoswitchtotheprerecordedfeedswheneverIshutoutthelightsinmyhab-unit.Thesplit-secondjumpcutinthefeedwouldbemaskedbythemomentaryvideodistortionthatoccurredwhenthecamerasswitchedintonight-visionmode.
Ikeptexpectingtobediscoveredandlockedoutofthesystem,butitneverhappened.Mypasswordscontinuedtowork.I’dspentthepastsixnightslayingsiegetotheIOIintranet,diggingdeeperanddeeperintothenetwork.Ifeltlikeaconvictinanoldprisonmovie,returningtomycelleachnighttotunnelthroughthewallwithateaspoon.
Then,lastnight,justbeforeI’dsuccumbedtoexhaustion,I’dfinallymanagedtonavigatemywaythroughtheintranet’slabyrinthoffirewallsandintothemainOologyDivisiondatabase.Themotherlode.TheSixers’privatefilepile.Andtonight,Iwouldfinallybeabletoexploreit.
IknewthatIneededtobeabletotakesomeoftheSixers’datawithmewhenIescaped,soearlierintheweek,I’dusedmyintranetadminaccounttosubmitabogushardwarerequisitionform.Ihadaten-zettabyteClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd289
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flashdrivedeliveredtoanonexistentemployee(“SamLowery”)inanemptycubicleafewrowsawayfrommyown.Makingsuretokeepmyeargearcamerapointedintheotherdirection,I’dduckedintothecube,grabbedthetinydrive,
pocketedit,andsmuggleditbacktomyhab-unit.
Thatnight,afterIshutoffthelightsanddisabledthesecuritycameras,Iunlockedmyentertainmentunit’smaintenanceaccesspanelandinstalledtheflashdriveintoanexpansionslotusedforfirmwareupgrades.NowIcoulddownloaddatafromtheintranetdirectlytothatdrive.
...
Iputontheentertainmentcenter’svisorandgloves,thenstretchedoutonmymattress.Thevisorpresentedmewithathree-dimensionalviewoftheSixers’database,withdozensofoverlappingdatawindowssuspendedinfrontofme.Usingmygloves,Ibegantomanipulatethesewindows,navigatingmywaythroughthedatabase’sfilestructure.ThelargestsectionofthedatabaseappearedtobedevotedtoinformationonHalliday.
Theamountofdatatheyhadonhimwasstaggering.ItmademygraildiarylooklikeasetofCliffsNotes.TheyhadthingsI’dneverseen.ThingsIdidn’tevenknowexisted.Halliday’sgrade-schoolreportcards,homemoviesfromhischildhood,e-mailshe’dwrittentofans.Ididn’thavetimetoreadoveritall,butIcopiedthereallyinterestingstuffovertomyflashdrive,to(hopefully)studylater.
IfocusedonisolatingthedatarelatedtoCastleAnorakandtheforcestheSixershadpositionedinandaroundit.Icopiedalloftheintelontheirweapons,vehicles,gunships,andtroopnumbers.IalsosnaggedallofthedataIcouldfindontheOrbofOsuvox,theartifacttheywereusingtogeneratetheshieldaroundthecastle,includingexactlywheretheywerekeepingitandtheemployeenumberoftheSixerwizardtheyhadoperatingit.
ThenIhitthejackpot—afoldercontaininghundredsofhoursofOASISsimcaprecordingsdocumentingtheSixers’initialdiscoveryoftheThirdGateandtheirsubsequentattemptstoopenit.Aseveryonenowsuspected,theThirdGatewaslocatedinsideCastleAnorak.OnlyavatarswhopossessedacopyoftheCrystalKeycouldcrossthethresholdofthecastle’sfrontentrance.Tomydisgust,IlearnedthatSorrentohadbeenthefirstavatartosetfootinsideCastleAnoraksinceHalliday’sdeath.
Thecastleentranceledintoamassivefoyerwhosewalls,floor,andceil-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd290
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ingwereallmadeofgold.Atthenorthendofthechamber,alargecrystaldoorwassetintothewall.Ithadasmallkeyholeatitsverycenter.
ThemomentIsawit,IknewIwaslookingattheThirdGate.
Ifast-forwardedthroughseveralotherrecentsimcapfiles.FromwhatIcouldtell,theSixersstillhadn’tfiguredouthowtoopenthegate.SimplyinsertingtheCrystalKeyintothekeyholehadnoeffect.They’dhadtheirentireteamtryingtofigureoutwhyforseveraldaysnow,butstillhadn’tmadeanyprogress.
WhilethedataandvideoontheThirdGatewascopyingovertomyflashdrive,IcontinuedtodelvedeeperintotheSixerdatabase.Eventually,IuncoveredarestrictedareacalledtheStarChamber.ItwastheonlyareaofthedatabaseIcouldn’tseemtoaccess.SoIusedmyadminID
tocreateanew“testaccount,”thengavethataccountsuperuseraccessandfulladministratorprivileges.ItworkedandIwasgrantedaccess.Theinformationinsidetherestrictedareawasdividedintotwofolders:MissionStatusandThreatAssessments.IopenedtheThreatAssessmentsfolderfirst,andwhenIsawwhatwasinside,Ifelttheblooddrainfrommyface.
Therewerefivefilefolders,labeledParzival,Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,and
Daito.Daito’sfolderhadalargered“X”overit.
IopenedtheParzivalfolderfirst.Adetaileddossierappeared,containingalloftheinformationtheSixershadcollectedonmeoverthepastfewyears.Mybirthcertificate.Myschooltranscripts.AtthebottomtherewasalinktoasimcapofmyentirechatlinksessionwithSorrento,endingwiththebombdetonatinginmyaunt’strailer.AfterI’dgoneintohiding,they’dlosttrackofme.Theyhadcollectedthousandsofscreenshotsandvidcapsofmyavataroverthepastyear,andloadsofdataonmystrongholdonFalco,buttheydidn’tknowanythingaboutmylocationintherealworld.Mycurrentwhereaboutswerelistedas“unknown.”
Iclosedthewindow,tookadeepbreath,andopenedthefileonArt3mis.
Attheverytopwasaschoolphotoofayounggirlwithadistinctlysadsmile.Tomysurprise,shelookedalmostidenticaltoheravatar.Thesamedarkhair,thesamehazeleyes,andthesamebeautifulfaceIknewsowell—withonesmalldifference.Mostofthelefthalfofherfacewascoveredwithareddish-purplebirthmark.Iwouldlaterlearnthatthesetypesofbirthmarkweresometimesreferredtoas“portwinestains.”Inthephoto,sheworeasweepofherdarkhairdownoverherlefteyetotrytoconcealthemarkasmuchaspossible.
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Art3mishadledmetobelievethatinrealityshewassomehowhideous,butnowIsawthatnothingcouldhavebeenfurtherfromthetruth.Tomyeyes,thebirthmarkdidabsolutelynothingtodiminishherbeauty.Ifanything,thefaceIsawinthephotoseemedevenmorebeautifultomethanthatofheravatar,becauseIknewthisonewasreal.
ThedatabelowthephotosaidthatherrealnamewasSamanthaEvelynCook,thatshewasatwenty-year-oldCanadiancitizen,fivefeetandseveninchestall,andthatsheweighedonehundredandsixty-eightpounds.
Thefilealsocontainedherhomeaddress—2206GreenleafLane,Vancouver,BritishColumbia—alongwithalotofotherinformation,includingherbloodtypeandherschooltranscriptsgoingallthewaybacktokin-dergarten.
Ifoundanunlabeledvideolinkatthebottomofherdossier,andwhenIselectedit,alivevidfeedofasmallsuburbanhouseappearedonmydisplay.Afterafewseconds,IrealizedIwaslookingatthehousewhereArt3mislived.
AsIdugfurtherintoherfile,Ilearnedthatthey’dhadherundersurveillanceforthepastfivemonths.Theyhadherhousebuggedtoo,becauseIfoundhundredsofhoursofaudiorecordingsmadewhileshewasloggedintotheOASIS.Theyhadcompletetexttranscriptsofeveryaudiblewordshe’dspokenwhileclearing
thefirsttwogates.
IopenedShoto’sfilenext.Theyknewhisrealname,AkihideKaratsu,andtheyalsoappearedtohavehishomeaddress,anapartmentbuildinginOsaka,Japan.Hisfilealsocontainedaschoolphoto,showingathin,stoicboywithashavedhead.LikeDaito,helookednothinglikehisavatar.
Aechseemedtobetheonetheyknewtheleastabout.Hisfilecontainedverylittleinformation,andnophoto—justascreenshotofhisavatar.Hisrealnamewaslistedas“HenrySwanson,”butthatwasanaliasusedbyJackBurtoninBigTroubleinLittleChina,soIknewitmustbeafake.Hisaddresswaslistedas“mobile,”andbelowittherewasalinklabeled“RecentAccessPoints.”ThisturnedouttobealistofthewirelessnodelocationsAechhadrecentlyusedtoaccesshisOASISaccount.Theywereallovertheplace:Boston;Washington,D.C.;NewYorkCity;Philadelphia;andmostrecently,Pittsburgh.
NowIbegantounderstandhowtheSixershadbeenabletolocateArt3misandShoto.IOIownedhundredsofregionaltelecomcompanies,effectivelymakingthemthelargestInternetserviceproviderintheworld.
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Itwasprettydifficulttogetonlinewithoutusinganetworktheyownedandoperated.Fromthelooksofit,IOIhadbeenillegallyeavesdroppingonmostoftheworld’sInternettrafficinanattempttolocateandidentifythehandfulofgunterstheyconsideredtobeathreat.Theonlyreasontheyhadn’tbeenabletolocatemewasbecauseI’dtakentheparanoia-inducedprecautionofleasingadirectfiber-opticconnectiontotheOASIS
frommyapartmentcomplex.
IclosedAech’sfile,thenopenedthefolderlabeledDaito,alreadydreadingwhatImightfindthere.Liketheothers,theyhadhisrealname,ToshiroYoshiaki,andhishomeaddress.Twonewsarticlesabouthis“suicide”were
linkedatthebottomofhisdossier,alongwithanunlabeledvideoclip,time-stampedonthedayhe’ddied.Iclickedonit.Itwashandheldvideocamerafootageshowingthreelargemeninblackskimasks(oneofwhomwasoperatingthecamera)waitingsilentlyinahallway.
Theyappearedtoreceiveanorderviatheirradioearpieces,thenusedakeycardtoopenthedoorofatinyone-roomapartment.Daito’sapartment.Iwatchedinhorrorastheyrushedin,yankedhimoutofhishapticchair,andthrewhimoffthebalcony.
Thebastardsevenfilmedhimplummetingtohisdeath.ProbablyatSorrento’srequest.
Awaveofnauseawashedoverme.Whenitfinallypassed,Icopiedthecontentsofallfivedossiersovertomyflashdrive,thenopenedtheMissionStatusfolder.ItappearedtocontainanarchiveoftheOologyDivision’sstatusreports,intendedfortheSixers’topbrass.Thereportswerearrangedbydate,withthemostrecentonelistedfirst.WhenIopenedit,IsawthatitwasadirectivememosentfromNolanSorrentototheIOIBoardofExecutives.Init,SorrentoproposedsendingagentstoabductArt3misandShotofromtheirhomestoforcethemtohelpIOIopentheThirdGate.OncetheSixershadobtainedtheeggandwonthecontest,Art3misandShotowould“bedisposedof.”
Isatthereinstunnedsilence.ThenIreadthememoagain,feelingacombinationofrageandpanic.
Accordingtothetimestamp,Sorrentohadsentthememojustaftereighto’clock,lessthanfivehoursago.Sohissuperiorsprobablyhadn’tevenseenityet.Whentheydid,theywouldstillwanttomeettodiscussSorrento’ssuggestedcourseofaction.Sotheyprobablywouldn’tsendtheiragentsafterArt3misandShotountilsometimetomorrow.
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Istillhadtimetowarnthem.Buttodothat,Iwouldhavetodrasticallyaltermyescapeplan.
Beforemyarrest,I’dsetupatimedfundstransferthatwoulddepositenoughmoneyinmyIOIcreditaccounttopayoffmyentiredebt,forcingIOItoreleasemefromindenturement.Butthattransferwouldn’thappenforanotherfivedays.Bythen,theSixerswouldprobablyhaveArt3misandShotolockedinawindowlessroomsomewhere.
Icouldn’tspendtherestoftheweekexploringtheSixerdatabase,likeI’dplanned.IhadtograbasmuchdataasIcouldandmakemyescapenow.
Igavemyselfuntildawn.
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0031
Iworkedfranticallyforthenextfourhours.MostofthattimewasspentcopyingasmuchdataaspossiblefromtheSixerdatabasetomystolenflashdrive.Oncethattaskwascompleted,IsubmittedanExecutiveOologistSupplyRequisitionOrder.ThiswasanonlineformthatSixercommandersusedtorequestweaponsorequipmentinsidetheOASIS.Iselectedaveryspecificitem,thenscheduleditsdeliveryfornoontwodaysfromnow.
WhenIfinallyfinished,itwassixthirtyinthemorning.Thenexttech-supportshiftchangewasnowonlyninetyminutesaway,andmyhab-unitneighborswouldstartwakingupsoon.Iwasoutoftime.
Ipulledupmyindenturementprofile,accessedmydebtstatement,andzeroedoutmyoutstandingbalance—moneyI’dneveractuallyborrowedtobeginwith.ThenIselectedtheIndenturedServantObservationandCommunicationsTagcontrolsettingssubmenu,whichoperatedbothmyeargearandsecurityanklet.Finally,IdidsomethingI’dbeendyingtodoforthepastweek—Idisabledthelockingmechanismsonbothdevices.
Ifeltasharppainastheeargearclampsretractedandpulledfreeofthecartilageonmyleftear.Thedevicebouncedoffmyshoulderandlandedinmylap.Inthesameinstant,theshackleonmyrightankleclickedopenandfelloff,revealingabandofabradedredskin.
I’dnowpassedthepointofnoreturn.IOIsecuritytechsweren’ttheonlyoneswhohadaccesstomyeargear’svidfeed.TheIndenturedServantProtectionAgencyalsousedittomonitorandrecordmydailyactivities,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd295
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toensurethatmyhumanrightswerebeingobserved.NowthatI’dremovedthedevice,therewouldbenodigitalrecordofwhathappenedtomefromthismomentforward.IfIOIsecuritycaughtmebeforeImadeitoutofthebuilding,carryingastolenflashdrivefilledwithhighlyin-criminatingcompanydata,Iwasdead.TheSixerscouldtortureandkillme,andnoonewouldeverknow.
Iperformedafewfinaltasksrelatedtomyescapeplan,thenloggedoutoftheIOIintranetforthelasttime.Ipulledoffmyvisorandglovesandopenedthemaintenanceaccesspanelnexttotheentertainmentcenterconsole.Therewasasmallemptyspacebelowtheentertainmentmodule,betweentheprefabwallofmyhab-unitandtheoneadjacenttoit.Iremovedthethin,neatlyfoldedbundleI’dhiddenthere.Itwasavacuum-sealedIOImaintenance-techuniform,completewithacapandanID
badge.(Liketheflashdrive,I’dobtainedtheseitemsbysubmittinganintranetrequisitionform,thenhadthemdeliveredtoanemptycubicleonmyfloor.)Ipulledoffmyindentjumpsuitandusedittowipethebloodoffmyearandneck.ThenIremovedtwoBand-Aidsfromundermymattressandslappedthemovertheholesinmyearlobe.OnceIwasdressedinmynewmaintenance-techthreads,Icarefullyremovedtheflashdrivefromitsexpansionslotandpocketedit.ThenIpickedupmyeargearandspokeintoit.“Ineedtousethebathroom,”Isaid.
Thehab-unitdooririsedopenatmyfeet.Thehallwaywasdarkanddeserted.I
stuffedmyeargearandindentjumpsuitunderthemattressandputtheankletinthepocketofmynewuniform.Then,remindingmyselftobreathe,Icrawledoutsideanddescendedtheladder.
Ipassedafewotherindentsonmywaytotheelevators,butasusual,noneofthemmadeeyecontact.Thiswasahugerelief,becauseIwasworriedsomeonemightrecognizemeandnoticethatIdidn’tbelonginamaintenance-techuniform.WhenIsteppedinfrontoftheexpresselevatordoor,Iheldmybreathasthesystemscannedmymaintenance-techID
badge.Afterwhatfeltlikeaneternity,thedoorsslidopen.
“Goodmorning,Mr.Tuttle,”theelevatorsaidasIsteppedinside.
“Floorplease?”
“Lobby,”Isaidhoarsely,andtheelevatorbegantodescend.
“HarryTuttle”wasthenameprintedonmymaintenancetechID
badge.I’dgiventhefictionalMr.Tuttlecompleteaccesstotheentirebuilding,thenreprogrammedmyindentankletsothatitwasencodedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd296
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withtheTuttleID,makingitfunctionjustlikeoneofthesecuritybraceletsthatmaintenancetechswore.WhenthedoorsandelevatorsscannedmetomakesureIhadthepropersecurityclearance,theankletinmypockettoldthemthatyes,Isuredid,insteadofdoingwhatitwassupposedtodo,whichwaszapmyasswithafewthousandvoltsandinca-pacitatemeuntilthesecurityguardsarrived.
Irodetheelevatordowninsilence,tryingnottostareatthecameramountedabovethedoors.ThenIrealizedthevideobeingshotofmewouldbescrutinizedwhenthiswasallover.Sorrentohimselfwouldprobablyseeit,andsowouldhissuperiors.SoIlookeddirectlyintothelensofthecamera,smiled,andscratched
thebridgeofmynosewithmymiddlefinger.
Theelevatorreachedthelobbyandthedoorsslidopen.Ihalfexpectedtofindanarmyofsecurityguardswaitingformeoutside,theirgunsleveledatmyface.ButtherewasonlyacrowdofIOImiddle-managementdroneswaitingtogetontheelevator.Istaredatthemblanklyforasecond,thensteppedoutofthecar.Itwaslikecrossingtheborderintoanothercountry.
Asteadystreamofovercaffeinatedofficeworkersscurriedacrossthelobbyandinandoutoftheelevatorsandexits.Thesewereregularemployees,notindents.Theywereallowedtogohomeattheendoftheirshifts.Theycouldevenquitiftheywantedto.Iwonderedifitbotheredanyofthem,knowingthatthousandsofindenturedslaveslivedandtoiledhereinthesamebuilding,justafewfloorsawayfromthem.
Ispottedtwosecurityguardsstationednearthereceptiondeskandgavethemawideberth,weavingmywaythroughthethickcrowd,crossingtheimmenselobbytothelongrowofautomaticglassdoorsthatledoutside,tofreedom.IforcedmyselfnottorunasIpushedthroughthearrivingworkers.Justamaintenancetechhere,folks,headinghomeafteralongnightofrebootingrouters.That’sall.Iamdefinitelynotanindentmakingadaringescapewithtenzettabytesofstolencompanydatainhispocket.
Nosiree.
Halfwaytothedoors,Inoticedanoddsoundandglanceddownatmyfeet.Iwasstillwearingmydisposableplasticindentslippers.Eachfootfallmadeashrillsqueakonthewaxedmarblefloor,standingoutamidtherumbleofsensiblebusinessfootwear.EverystepItookseemedtoscream:Hey,look!Overhere!Aguyintheplasticslippers!
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ButIkeptwalking.Iwasalmosttothedoorswhensomeoneplacedahandon
myshoulder.Ifroze.“Sir?”Iheardsomeonesay.Itwasawoman’svoice.
Ialmostboltedoutthedoor,butsomethingaboutthewoman’stonestoppedme.Iturnedandsawtheconcernedfaceofatallwomaninhermidforties.Darkbluebusinesssuit.Briefcase.“Sir,yourearisbleeding.”
Shepointedatit,wincing.“Alot.”
Ireachedupandtouchedmyearlobe,andmyhandcameawayred.Atsomepoint,theBand-AidsI’dappliedhadfallenoff.
Iwasparalyzedforasecond,unsureofwhattodo.Iwantedtogiveheranexplanation,butcouldn’tthinkofone.SoIsimplynodded,muttered
“thanks,”thenturnedaroundand,ascalmlyaspossible,walkedoutside.
Thefrozenmorningwindwassofiercethatitnearlyknockedmeover.
WhenIregainedmybalance,Iboundeddownthetieredsteps,pausingbrieflytodropmyankletintoatrashreceptacle.Iheardithitthebottomwithasatisfyingthud.
OnceIreachedthestreet,Iheadednorth,walkingasfastasmyfeetwouldcarryme.IwassomewhatconspicuousbecauseIwastheonlypersonnotwearingacoatofsomekind.Myfeetquicklywentnumb,becauseIalsowasn’twearingsocksundermyplasticindentslippers.
MyentirebodywasshiveringbythetimeIfinallyreachedthewarmconfinesoftheMailbox,apostofficeboxrentaloutletlocatedfourblocksfromtheIOIplaza.Theweekbeforemyarrest,I’drentedapostofficeboxhereonlineandhadatop-of-the-lineportableOASISrigshippedtoit.
TheMailboxwascompletelyautomated,sotherewerenoemployeestocontendwith,andwhenIwalkedintherewerenocustomerseither.Ilocatedmybox,punchedinthekeycode,andretrievedtheportableOASIS
rig.Isatdownonthefloorandrippedopenthepackagerightthere.Irubbedmyfrozenhandstogetheruntilthefeelingreturnedtomyfingers,thenputontheglovesandvisorandusedtherigtologintotheOASIS.
GregariousSimulationSystemswaslocatedlessthanamileaway,soIwasabletouseoneoftheircomplimentarywirelessaccesspointsinsteadofoneofthecitynodesownedbyIOI.
MyheartwaspoundingasIloggedin.I’dbeenofflineforeightwholedays—apersonalrecord.Asmyavatarslowlymaterializedonmystronghold’sobservationdeck,Ilookeddownatmyvirtualbody,admiringitlikeafavoritesuitIhadn’tworninawhile.Awindowimmediatelyap-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd298
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pearedonmydisplay,informingmethatI’dreceivedseveralmessagesfromAechandShoto.And,tomysurprise,therewasevenamessagefromArt3mis.AllthreeofthemwantedtoknowwhereIwasandwhatthehellhadhappenedtome.
IrepliedtoArt3misfirst.ItoldherthattheSixersknewwhoshewasandwhereshelivedandthattheyhadherunderconstantsurveillance.Ialsowarnedherabouttheirplanstoabductherfromherhome.Ipulledacopyofherdossierofftheflashdriveandattachedittomymessageasproof.ThenIpolitelysuggestedthatsheleavehomeimmediatelyandgetthehelloutofDodge.
Don’tstoptopackasuitcase,Iwrote.Don’tsaygood-byetoanyone.Leaverightnow,andgetsomewheresafe.Makesureyouaren’tfollowed.Thenfindasecurenon-IOI-controlledInternetconnectionandgetbackonline.I’llmeetyouinAech’sBasementassoonasIcan.Don’tworry—Ihavesomegoodnewstoo.
Atthebottomofthemessage,Iaddedashortpostscript:PS—Ithinkyoulookevenmorebeautifulinreallife.
Isentsimilare-mailstoShotoandAech(minusthepostscript),alongwithcopiesoftheirSixerdossiers.ThenIpulleduptheUnitedStatesCitizenRegistrydatabaseandattemptedtologin.Tomygreatrelief,thepasswordsI’dpurchasedstillworked,andIwasabletoaccessthefakeBryceLynchcitizenprofileI’dcreated.ItnowcontainedtheIDphototakenduringmyindent
processing,andthewordswantedfugitiveweresuperimposedovermyface.IOIhadalreadyreportedMr.Lynchasanescapedindent.
Itdidn’ttakemeverylongtocompletelyerasetheBryceLynchidentityandcopymyfingerprintsandretinalpatternsbackovertomyoriginalcitizenprofile.WhenIloggedoutofthedatabaseafewminuteslater,BryceLynchnolongerexisted.IwasWadeWattsonceagain.
...
IhailedanautocaboutsidetheMailbox,makingsuretoselectoneoperatedbyalocalcabcompanyandnotaSupraCab,whichwasawhollyownedsubsidiaryofIOI.
WhenIgotin,IheldmybreathasIpressedmythumbtotheIDscanner.Thedisplayflashedgreen.ThesystemrecognizedmeasWadeWatts,notasthefugitiveindentBryceLynch.
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“Goodmorning,Mr.Watts,”theautocabsaid.“Whereto?”
IgavethecabtheaddressofaclothingstoreonHighStreet,closetotheOSUcampus.ItwasaplacecalledThr3ads,whichspecializedin
“high-techurbanstreetwear.”Iraninsideandboughtapairofjeansandasweater.Bothitemswere“dichotomywear,”meaningtheywerewiredforOASISuse.Theydidn’thavehaptics,butthepantsandshirtcouldlinkupwithmyportableimmersionrig,lettingitknowwhatIwasdoingwithmytorso,arms,andlegs,makingiteasiertocontrolmyavatarthanwithagloves-onlyinterface.Ialsoboughtafewpacksofsocksandunderwear,asimulatedleatherjacket,apairofboots,andablackknit-woolcaptocovermyfreezing,stubble-coverednoggin.
Iemergedfromthestoreafewminuteslaterdressedinmynewthreads.
AsthefrigidwindenvelopedmeagainIzippedupmynewjacketandpulledonthewoolcap.Muchbetter.Itossedthemaintenance-techjumpsuitandplasticindentshoesinatrashcan,thenbegantowalkupHighStreet,scanningthestorefronts.Ikeptmyheaddowntoavoidmakingeyecontactwiththestreamofsullenuniversitystudentsfilingpastme.
Afewblockslater,IduckedintoaVend-Allfranchise.Insidetherewererowsofvendingmachinesthatsoldeverythingunderthesun.Oneofthem,labeleddefensedispenser,offeredself-defenseequipment:lightweightbodyarmor,chemicalrepellents,andawideselectionofhand-guns.Itappedthescreensetintothefrontofthemachineandscrolledthroughthecatalog.Afteramoment’sdeliberation,IpurchasedaflakvestandaGlock47Cpistol,alongwiththreeclipsofammo.Ialsoboughtasmallcanisterofmace,thenpaidforeverythingbypressingmyrightpalmtoahandscanner.Myidentitywasverifiedandmycriminalrecordwaschecked.
NAME:WADEWATTS
OUTSTANDINGWARRANTS:NONE
CREDITRATING:EXCELLENT
PURCHASERESTRICTIONS:NONE
TRANSACTIONAPPROVED!
THANKYOUFORYOURBUSINESS!
Iheardaheavymetallicthunkasmypurchasesslidintothesteeltraynearmyknees.Ipocketedthemaceandputtheflakvestonunderneathmynewshirt.ThenIremovedtheGlockfromitsclearplasticblisterClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd300
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packaging.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’deverheldarealgun.Evenso,theweaponfeltfamiliarinmyhands,becauseI’dfiredthousandsofvirtualfirearmsintheOASIS.Ipressedasmallbuttonsetintothebarrelandthegunemittedatone.Iheldthepistolgripfirmlyforafewseconds,firstinmyrighthand,thenmyleft.Theweaponemittedasecondtone,lettingmeknowithadfinishedscanningmyhandprints.Iwasnowtheonlypersonwhocouldfireit.Theweaponhadabuilt-intimerthatwouldpreventitfromfiringforanothertwelvehours(a“cooling-offperiod”),butIstillfeltbetterhavingitonme.
IwalkedtoanOASISparlorlocatedafewblocksaway,afranchiseoutletcalledthePlug.Thedingybacklitsign,whichfeaturedasmilingan-thropomorphicfiber-opticcable,promisedLightning-FastOASISAccess!
CheapGearRental!andPrivateImmersionBays!Open24-7-365!I’dseenalotofbanneradsforthePlugonline.Theyhadareputationforhighpricesandoutdatedhardware,buttheirconnectionsweresupposedtobefast,reliable,andlag-free.Forme,theirmajorsellingpointwasthattheywereoneofthefewOASISparlorchainsnotownedbyIOIoroneofitssubsidiaries.
ThemotiondetectoremittedabeepasIsteppedthroughthefrontdoor.Therewasasmallwaitingareaofftomyright,currentlyempty.Thecarpetwasstainedandworn,andthewholeplacereekedofindustrial-strengthdisinfectant.Avacant-eyedclerkglancedupatmefrombehindabulletproofPlexiglasbarrier.Hewasinhisearlytwenties,withaMohawkanddozensoffacialpiercings.Hewaswearingabifocalvisor,whichgavehimasemitransparentviewoftheOASISwhilealsoallowinghimtoseehisreal-worldsurroundings.Whenhespoke,Isawthathisteethhadallbeensharpenedtopoints.“WelcometothePlug,”hesaidinaflatmonotone.“Wehaveseveralbaysfree,sothere’snowaiting.Packagepric-inginformationisdisplayedrighthere.”Hepointedtothedisplayscreenmountedonthecounterdirectlyinfrontofme;thenhiseyesglazedoverasherefocusedhisattentionontheworldinsidehisvisor.
Iscannedmychoices.Adozenimmersionrigswereavailable,ofvary-ingqualityandprice.Economy,Standard,Deluxe.Iwasgivendetailedspecsoneach.Youcouldrentbytheminute,orpayaflathourlyrate.
Avisorandapairofhapticgloveswereincludedintherentalprice,butahapticsuitcostextra.Therentalcontractcontainedalotoffineprintabouttheadditionalchargesyouwouldincurifyoudamagedtheequipment,andalotof
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sibleforanythingyoudid,underanycircumstances,especiallyifitwassomethingillegal.
“I’dliketorentoneofthedeluxerigsfortwelvehours,”Isaid.
Theclerkraisedhisvisor.“Youhavetopayinadvance,yourealize?”
Inodded.“Ialsowanttorentafat-pipeconnection.Ineedtouploadalargeamountofdatatomyaccount.”
“Uploadingcostsextra.Howmuchdata?”
“Tenzettabytes.”
“Damn,”hewhispered.“Whatyouuploading?TheLibraryofCongress?”
Iignoredthequestion.“IalsowanttheMondoUpgradePackage,”Isaid.
“Surething,”theclerkrepliedwarily.“Yourtotalcomestoeleventhousandbigones.Justputyourthumbonthedrumandwe’llgetyouallfixedup.”
Helookedmorethanalittlesurprisedwhenthetransactioncleared.
Thenheshruggedandhandedmeakeycard,avisor,andsomegloves.
“Bayfourteen.Lastdooronyourright.Therestroomisattheendofthehall.Ifyouleaveanykindofmessinthebay,we’llhavetokeepyourdeposit.Vomit,urine,semen,thatkindathing.AndI’mtheguywhohastocleanitup,sodomeasolidandshowsomerestraint,willya?”
“Yougotit.”
“Enjoy.”
“Thanks.”
Bayfourteenwasasoundproofedten-by-tenroomwithalate-modelhapticriginthecenter.Ilockedthedoorbehindmeandclimbedintotherig.Thevinylonthehapticchairwaswornandcracked.IslidthedatadriveintoaslotonthefrontoftheOASISconsoleandsmiledasitlockedintoplace.
“Max?”Isaidtotheemptyair,onceI’dloggedbackin.ThisbootedupabackupofMaxthatIkeptstoredinmyOASISaccount.
Max’ssmilingfaceappearedonallofmycommandcentermonitors.
“H-h-heythere,compadre!”hestuttered.“H-h-howgoesit?”
“Thingsarelookingup,pal.Nowstrapin.We’vegotalotofworktodo.”
IopenedupmyOASISaccountmanagerandinitiatedtheuploadfrommyflashdrive.IpaidGSSamonthlyfeeforunlimiteddatastorageonmyaccount,andIwasabouttotestitslimits.EvenusingthePlug’shigh-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd302
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bandwidthfiber-opticconnection,thetotalestimateduploadtimefortenzettabytesofdatawasoverthreehours.IreorderedtheuploadsequencesothefilesIneededaccesstorightawaywouldgettransferredfirst.AssoonasdatawasuploadedtomyOASISaccountIhadimmediateaccesstoitandcouldalsotransferittootherusersinstantaneously.
First,Ie-mailedallofthemajornewsfeedsadetailedaccountofhowIOIhadtriedtokillme,howtheyhadkilledDaito,andhowtheywereplanningtokillArt3misandShoto.IattachedoneofthevideoclipsI’dretrievedfromtheSixerdatabasetothemessage—thevideocamerafootageofDaito’sexecution.IalsoattachedacopyofthememoSorrentohadsenttotheIOIboard,suggestingthat
theyabductArt3misandShoto.
Finally,IattachedthesimcapofmychatlinksessionwithSorrento,butIbleepedthepartwherehesaidmyrealnameandblurredtheimageofmyschoolphoto.Iwasn’tyetreadytorevealmytrueidentitytotheworld.Iplannedtoreleasetheuneditedvideolater,oncetherestofmyplanhadplayedout.Thenitwouldn’tmatter.
Ispentaboutfifteenminutescomposingonelaste-mail,whichIaddressedtoeverysingleOASISuser.OnceIwashappywiththewording,IstoreditinmyDraftsfolder.ThenIloggedintoAech’sBasement.
Whenmyavatarappearedinsidethechatroom,IsawthatAech,Art3mis,andShotowerealreadytherewaitingforme.
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“Z!”Aechshoutedasmyavatarappeared.“Whatthehell,man?
Wherehaveyoubeen?I’vebeentryingtoreachyouforoveraweek!”
“SohaveI,”Shotoadded.“Wherewereyou?AndhowdidyougetthosefilesfromtheSixerdatabase?”
“It’salongstory,”Isaid.“Firstthingsfirst.”IaddressedShotoandArt3mis.“Haveyoutwoleftyourhomes?”
Theybothnodded.
“Andyou’reeachloggedinfromasafelocation?”
“Yes,”Shotosaid.“I’minamangacaferightnow.”
“AndI’mattheVancouverairport,”Art3missaid.ItwasthefirsttimeI’dheardhervoiceinmonths.“I’mloggedinfromagerm-riddenpublicOASISbooth
rightnow.Iranoutofmyhousewithnothingbuttheclothesonmyback,soIhopethatSixerdatayousentusislegit.”
“Itis,”Isaid.“Trustme.”
“Howcanyoubesureofthat?”Shotoasked.
“BecauseIhackedintotheSixerDatabaseanddownloadeditmyself.”
Theyallstaredatmeinsilence.Aechraisedaneyebrow.“Andhow,exactly,didyoumanagethat,Z?”
“IassumedafakeidentityandmasqueradedasanindenturedservanttoinfiltrateIOI’scorporateheadquarters.I’vebeenthereforthepasteightdays.Ijustnowescaped.”
“Holyshit!”Shotowhispered.“Seriously?”
Inodded.
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“Dude,youhaveballsofsolidadamantium,”Aechsaid.“Respect.”
“Thanks.Ithink.”
“Let’sassumeyou’renottotallybullshittingus,”Art3missaid.“HowdoesalowlyindentgetaccesstosecretSixerdossierfilesandcompanymemos?”
Iturnedtofaceher.“Indentshavelimitedaccesstothecompanyintranetviatheirhab-unitentertainmentsystem,frombehindtheIOIfirewall.Fromthere,IwasabletouseaseriesofbackdoorsandsystemexploitsleftbytheoriginalprogrammerstotunnelthroughthenetworkandhackdirectlyintotheSixers’privatedatabase.”
Shotolookedatmeinawe.“Youdidthat?Allbyyourself?”
“Thatiscorrect,sir.”
“It’samiracletheydidn’tcatchyouandkillyou,”Art3missaid.“Whywouldyoutakesuchastupidrisk?”
“Whydoyouthink?TotryandfindawaytogetthroughtheirshieldandreachtheThirdGate.”Ishrugged.“ItwastheonlyplanIcouldcomeupwithonsuchshortnotice.”
“Z,”Aechsaid,grinning,“youareonecrazysonofabitch.”Hewalkedoverandgavemeahighfive.“Butthat’swhyIloveyou,man!”
Art3misscowledatme.“Ofcourse,whenyoufoundouttheyhadsecretfilesoneachofus,youjustcouldn’tresistlookingatthem,couldyou?”
“Ihadtolookatthem!”Isaid.“Tofindouthowmuchtheyknewabouteachofus!Youwouldhavedonethesamething.”
Sheleveledafingeratme.“No,Iwouldn’thave.Irespectotherpeople’sprivacy!”
“Art3mis,chillout!”Aechinterjected.“Heprobablysavedyourlife,youknow.”
Sheseemedtoconsiderthis.“Fine,”shesaid.“Forgetit.”ButIcouldtellshewasstillpissedoff.
Ididn’tknowwhattosay,soIkeptplowingforward.
“I’msendingeachofyouacopyofalltheSixerdataIsmuggledout.
Tenzettabytesofit.Youshouldhaveitnow.”Iwaitedwhileeachofthemcheckedtheirinbox.“ThesizeoftheirdatabaseonHallidayisunreal.Hiswholelifeisinthere.They’vecollectedinterviewswitheveryoneHallidayeverknew.Itcouldtakemonthstoreadthroughthemall.”
Iwaitedforafewminutes,watchingtheireyesscanoverthedata.
“Whoa!”Shotosaid.“Thisisincredible.”Helookedoveratme.“Howthehell
didyouescapefromIOIwithallofthisstuff?”
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“Bybeingextrasneaky.”
“Aechisright,”Art3missaid,shakingherhead.“Youarecertifiablynuts.”Shehesitatedforasecond,thenadded,“Thanksforthewarning,Z.
Ioweyouone.”
Iopenedmymouthtosay“you’rewelcome,”butnowordscameout.
“Yes,”Shotosaid.“SodoI.Thanks.”
“Don’tmentionit,guys,”Ifinallymanagedtosay.
“Well?”Aechsaid.“Hituswiththebadnewsalready.HowclosearetheSixerstoclearingtheThirdGate?”
“Digthis,”Isaid,grinning.“Theyhaven’tevenfiguredouthowtoopenityet.”
Art3misandShotostaredatmeindisbelief.Aechsmiledwide,thenbegantobobhisheadandpresshispalmstothesky,asifdancingtosomeunheardravetrack.“Ohyes!Ohyes!”hesang.
“You’rekidding,right?”Shotoasked.
Ishookmyhead.
“You’renotkidding?”Art3missaid.“Howisthatpossible?SorrentohastheCrystalKeyandheknowswherethegateis.Allhehastodoisopenthedamnthingandstepinside,right?”
“Thatwastrueforthefirsttwogates,”Ireplied.“ButGateThreeisdifferent.”I
openedalargevidfeedwindowintheairbesideme.“Checkthisout.It’sfromtheSixers’videoarchive.It’savidcapoftheirfirstattempttoopenthegate.”
IhitPlay.ThevideoclipopenedwithashotofSorrento’savatarstandingoutsidethefrontgatesofCastleAnorak.Thecastle’sfrontentrance,whichhadbeenimpregnableforsomanyyears,swungopenasSorrentoapproached,likeanautomaticdooratasupermarket.“ThecastleentrancewillopenforanavatarwhoholdsacopyoftheCrystalKey,”Iexplained.
“Ifanavatardoesn’thaveacopyofthekey,hecan’tcrossthethresholdandenterthecastle,evenifthedoorsarealreadyopen.”
WeallwatchedthevidcapasSorrentopassedthroughtheentranceandintothelargegold-linedfoyerthatlaybeyond.Sorrento’savatarcrossedthepolishedfloorandapproachedthelargecrystaldoorsetintothenorthwall.Therewasakeyholeintheverycenterofthedoor,anddirectlyaboveit,threewordswereetchedintothedoor’sglittering,facetedsurface:charity.hope.faith.
Sorrentosteppedforward,holdingouthiscopyoftheCrystalKey.Heslidthekeyintothekeyholeandturnedit.Nothinghappened.
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Sorrentoglancedupatthethreewordsprintedonthegate.“Charity,hope,faith,”hesaid,readingthemaloud.Onceagain,nothinghappened.
Sorrentoremovedthekey,recitedthethreewordsagain,thenrein-sertedthekeyandturnedit.Stillnothing.
IstudiedAech,Art3mis,andShotoastheywatchedthevideo.Theirexcitementandcuriosityhadalreadyshiftedintoconcentrationastheyattemptedtosolvethepuzzlebeforethem.Ipausedthevideo.“WheneverSorrentoisloggedin,hehasateamofconsultantsandresearcherswatchinghiseverymove,”Isaid.“Youcanheartheirvoicesonsomeofthevidcaps,feedinghimsuggestionsandadvice
throughhiscomlink.Sofar,theyhaven’tbeenmuchhelp.Watch—”
Onthevideo,Sorrentowasmakinganotherattempttoopenthegate.
Hedideverythingexactlyasbefore,exceptthistime,whenheinsertedtheCrystalKey,heturneditcounterclockwiseinsteadofclockwise.
“Theytryeveryasininethingyoucanimagine,”Isaid.“SorrentorecitesthewordsonthegateinLatin.AndElvish.AndKlingon.ThentheygethunguponrecitingFirstCorinthians13:13,aBibleversethatcontainsthewords‘charity,hope,andfaith.’Apparently,‘charity,hope,andfaith’arealsothenamesofthreemartyredCatholicsaints.TheSixershavebeentryingtoattachsomesignificancetothatforthepastfewdays.”
“Morons,”Aechsaid.“Hallidaywasanatheist.”
“They’regettingdesperatenow,”Isaid.“Sorrentohastriedeverythingbutgenuflecting,doingalittledance,andstickinghispinkyfingerinthekeyhole.”
“That’sprobablynextuponhisagenda,”Shotosaid,grinning.
“Charity,hope,faith,”Art3missaid,recitingthewordsslowly.Sheturnedtome.“WheredoIknowthatfrom?”
“Yeah,”Aechsaid.“Thosewordsdosoundfamiliar.”
“Ittookmeawhiletoplacethemtoo,”Isaid.
Theyalllookedatmeexpectantly.
“Saytheminreverseorder,”Isuggested.“Betteryet,singtheminreverseorder.”
Art3mis’seyesnarrowed.“Faith,hope,charity,”shesaid.Sherepeatedthemafewtimes,recognitiongrowinginherface.Thenshesang:“Faithandhopeandcharity...”
Aechpickedupthenextline:“Theheartandthebrainandthebody...”
“Giveyouthree...asamagicnumber!”Shotofinishedtriumphantly.
“SchoolhouseRock!”theyallshoutedinunison.
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“See?”Isaid.“Iknewyouguyswouldgetit.You’reasmartbunch.”
“‘ThreeIsaMagicNumber,’musicandlyricsbyBobDorough,”
Art3misrecited,asifpullingtheinformationfromamentalencyclope-dia.“Writtenin1973.”
Ismiledather.“Ihaveatheory.IthinkthismightbeHalliday’swayoftellingushowmanykeysarerequiredtoopentheThirdGate.”
Art3misgrinned,thensang,“Ittakesthree.”
“Nomore,noless,”continuedShoto.
“Youdon’thavetoguess,”addedAech.
“Three,”Ifinished,“isthemagicnumber.”ItookoutmyowncopyoftheCrystalKeyandhelditup.Theothersdidthesame.“Wehavefourcopiesofthekey.Ifatleastthreeofuscanreachthegate,wecangetitopen.”
“Whatthen?”Aechasked.“Doweallenterthegateatthesametime?”
“Whatifonlyoneofuscanenterthegateonceit’sopen?”Art3missaid.
“IdoubtHallidaywouldhavesetituplikethat,”Isaid.
“Whoknowswhatthatcrazybastardwasthinking?”Art3missaid.
“He’stoyedwithuseverystepoftheway,andnowhe’sdoingitagain.
WhyelsewouldherequirethreecopiesoftheCrystalKeytoopenthefinal
gate?”
“Maybebecausehewantedtoforceustoworktogether?”Isuggested.
“Orhejustwantedthecontesttoendwithabig,dramaticfinale,”Aechoffered.“Thinkaboutit.IfthreeavatarsentertheThirdGateattheexactsamemoment,thenitbecomesaracetoseewhocanclearthegateandreachtheeggfirst.”
“Hallidaywasonecrazy,sadisticbastard,”Art3mismuttered.
“Yeah,”Aechsaid,nodding.“Yougotthatright.”
“Lookatitthisway,”Shotosaid.“IfHallidayhadn’tsetuptheThirdGatetorequirethreekeys...theSixersmighthavealreadyfoundtheeggbynow.”
“ButtheSixershaveadozenavatarswithcopiesoftheCrystalKey,”
Aechsaid.“Theycouldopenthegaterightnow,iftheyweresmartenoughtofigureouthow.”
“Dilettantes,”Art3missaid.“It’stheirownfaultfornotknowingalltheSchoolhouseRock!lyricsbyheart.Howdidthosefoolsevengetthisfar?”
“Bycheating,”Isaid.“Remember?”
“Oh,that’sright.Ikeepforgetting.”Shegrinnedatme,andIfeltmykneesgoallrubbery.
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“JustbecausetheSixershaven’topenedthegateyetdoesn’tmeantheywon’tfigureitouteventually,”Shotosaid.
Inodded.“Shoto’sright.Soonerorlaterthey’llmaketheSchoolhouseRock!connection.Sowecan’twasteanymoretime.”
“Well,whatarewewaitingfor?”Shotosaidexcitedly.“Weknowwherethegateisandhowtoopenit!Solet’sdoit!Andmaythebestgunterwin!”
“You’reforgettingsomething,Shoto-san,”Aechsaid.“Parzivalherestillhasn’ttoldushowwe’regoingtogetpastthatshield,fightourwaythroughtheSixers’army,andgetinsidethecastle.”Heturnedtome.
“Youdohaveaplanforthat,don’tyou,Z?”
“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Iwasjustgettingtothat.”Imadeasweepinggesturewithmyrighthand,andathree-dimensionalhologramofCastleAnorakappeared,floatingintheairinfrontofme.ThetransparentbluespheregeneratedbytheOrbofOsuvoxappearedaroundthecastle,surroundingitbothabove-andbelowground.Ipointedtoit.“Thisshieldisgoingtodroponitsown,atnoononMonday,aboutthirty-sixhoursfromnow.Andthenwe’regoingtowalkrightthroughthecastle’sfrontentrance.”
“Theshieldisgoingtodrop?Onitsown?”Art3misrepeated.“Theclanshavebeenlobbingnukesatthatsphereforthepasttwoweeks,andtheyhaven’tevenscratchedit.Howareyougoingtogetitto‘droponitsown’?”
“I’vealreadytakencareofit,”Isaid.“Youguysaregonnahavetotrustme.”
“Itrustyou,Z,”Aechsaid.“Butevenifthatshielddoesdrop,toreachthecastle,we’llstillhavetofightourwaythroughthelargestarmyintheOASIS.”Hepointedtothehologram,whichshowedtheSixertrooppositionsaroundthecastle,justinsidethesphere.“Whataboutthesefools?
Andtheirtanks?Andtheirgunships?”
“Obviously,we’regoingtoneedalittlehelp,”Isaid.
“Alotofhelp,”Art3misclarified.
“Andwho,exactly,arewegoingtoconvincetohelpuswagewaragainsttheentireSixerarmy?”Aechasked.
“Everyone,”Isaid.“Everysinglegunteronthegrid.”Iopenedanotherwindow,displayingthebriefe-mailI’dcomposedjustbeforeloggingintotheBasement.“I’mgoingtosendthismessageouttonight,toeverysingleOASISuser.”
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Fellowgunters,
Itisadarkday.Afteryearsofdeception,exploitation,andknavery,theSixershavefinallymanagedtobuyandcheattheirwaytotheentranceoftheThirdGate.
Asyouknow,IOIhasbarricadedCastleAnorakinanattempttopreventanyoneelsefromreachingtheegg.We’vealsolearnedthatthey’veusedillegalmethodstouncovertheidentitiesofgunterstheyconsiderathreat,withtheintentionofabductingandmurderingthem.
Ifguntersaroundtheworlddon’tjoinforcestostoptheSixers,theywillreachtheeggandwinthecontest.AndthentheOASISwillfallunderIOI’simperialistrule.
Thetimeisnow.OurassaultontheSixerarmywillbegintomorrowatnoon,OST.
Joinus!
Sincerely,
Aech,Art3mis,Parzival,andShoto
“Knavery?”Art3missaidaftershe’dfinishedreadingit.“Wereyouusingathesauruswhenyouwrotethis?”
“Iwastryingtomakeitsound,youknow,grand,”Isaid.“Official.”
“Melikey,Z,”Aechsaid.“Itreallygetsthebloodstirring.”
“Thanks,Aech.”
“Sothat’sit?Thisisyourplan?”Art3missaid.“SpamtheentireOASIS,askingforhelp?”
“Moreorless,yeah.That’stheplan.”
“AndyoureallythinkeveryonewilljustshowupandhelpusfighttheSixers?”shesaid.“Justforthehellofit?”
“Yes,”Isaid.“Ido.”
Aechnodded.“He’sright.NoonewantstheSixerstowinthecontest.
Andtheydefinitelydon’twantIOItotakecontroloftheOASIS.PeoplewilljumpatachancetohelpbringtheSixersdown.Andwhatgunterisgonnapassupachancetofightinsuchanepic,history-makingbattle?”
“Butwon’ttheclansthinkwe’rejusttryingtomanipulatethem?”
Shotosaid.“Sothatwecanreachthegateourselves?”
“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Butmostofthemhavealreadygivenup.EveryoneknowstheendoftheHuntisathand.Don’tyouthinkmostpeoplewouldratherseeoneofuswinthecontest,insteadofSorrentoandtheSixers?”
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Art3misconsidereditforamoment.“You’reright.Thate-mailjustmightwork.”
“Z,”Aechsaid,slappingmeontheback,“youareanevil,sublimegenius!Whenthate-mailgoesout,themediawillgoapeshit!Thewordwillspreadlikewildfire.Bythistimetomorrow,everyavatarintheOASISwillbeheadedtoChthonia.”
“Let’shopeso,”Isaid.
“Oh,they’llshowup,allright,”Art3missaid.“Buthowmanyofthemwillactuallyfight,oncetheyseewhatwe’reupagainst?Mostofthemwillprobablysetuplawnchairsandeatpopcornwhiletheywatchusgetourasseskicked.”
“That’sdefinitelyapossibility,”Isaid.“Buttheclanswillhelpus,forsure.They’vegotnothingtolose.Andwedon’thavetodefeattheentireSixerarmy.Wejusthavetopunchaholethroughit,getinsidethecastle,andreachthegate.”
“Threeofushavetoreachthegate,”Aechsaid.“Ifonlyoneortwoofusmakeitinside,we’rescrewed.”
“Correct,”Isaid.“Soweshouldalltryextremelyhardnottogetkilled.”
Art3misandAechbothlaughednervously.Shotojustshookhishead.
“Evenifwegetthegateopen,westillhavetocontendwiththegateitself,”
hesaid.“It’sboundtobehardertoclearthanthefirsttwo.”
“Let’sworryaboutthegatelater,”Isaid.“Oncewereachit.”
“Fine,”Shotosaid.“Let’sdothisthing.”
“Isecondthat,”Aechsaid.
“So,youtwoareactuallygonnagoalongwiththis?”Art3missaid.
“Yougotabetteridea,sister?”Aechasked.
Sheshrugged.“No.Notreally.”
“OKthen,”Aechsaid.“It’ssettled.”
Iclosedthee-mail.“I’msendingeachofyouacopyofthismessage,”Isaid.“Startsendingitouttonight,toeveryoneonyourcontactlist.Postitonyourblogs.BroadcastitonyourPOVchannels.We’vegotthirty-sixhourstospreadtheword.ThatshouldbeenoughtimeforeveryonetogearupandgettheiravatarstoChthonia.”
“AssoonastheSixerscatchwindofthis,they’llstartpreparingforanassault,”Art3missaid.“They’regonnapulloutallthestops.”
“Theymightjustlaughitoff,”Isaid.“Theythinktheirshieldisimpregnable.”
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“Itis,”Art3missaid.“SoIhopeyou’rerightaboutbeingabletoshutitdown.”
“Don’tworry.”
“WhywouldIbeworried?”Art3missnapped.“Maybeyou’veforgotten,butI’mhomelessandontherunformyliferightnow!I’mcurrentlyloggedinfromapublicterminalatanairport,payingforbandwidthbytheminute.Ican’tfightawarfromhere,muchlesstrytocleartheThirdGate.AndIdon’thaveanywheretogo.”
Shotonodded.“Idon’tthinkIcanstaywhereIameither.I’minarentedboothatapublicmangacafeinOsaka.Idon’thavemuchprivacy.
AndIdon’tthinkit’ssafeformetostayhereiftheSixershaveagentsoutlookingforme.”
Art3mislookedatme.“Anysuggestions?”
“Ihatetobreakittoyouguys,butI’mhomelessandloggedinfromapublicterminalrightnowtoo,”Isaid.“I’vebeenhidingoutfromtheSixersforoverayear,remember?”
“I’vegotanRV,”Aechsaid.“You’reallwelcometocrashwithme.ButIdon’tthinkIcanmakeittoColumbus,Vancouver,andJapaninthenextthirty-sixhours.”
“IthinkImightbeabletohelpyouguysout,”adeepvoicesaid.
Wealljumpedandturnedaroundjustintimetoseeatall,male,gray-hairedavatarappeardirectlybehindus.ItwastheGreatandPowerfulOg.Ogden
Morrow’savatar.Andhedidn’tmaterializeslowly,thewayanavatarnormallydidwhenloggingintoachatroom.Hesimplypoppedintoexistence,asifhehadbeenthereallalongandhadonlynowdecidedtomakehimselfvisible.
“HaveanyofyoueverbeentoOregon?”hesaid.“It’slovelythistimeofyear.”
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WeallstaredatOgdenMorrowinstunnedsilence.
“Howdidyougetinhere?”Aechfinallyasked,oncehe’dmanagedtopickhisjawupoffthefloor.“Thisisaprivatechatroom.”
“Yes,Iknow,”Morrowsaid,lookingabitembarrassed.“I’mafraidI’vebeeneavesdroppingonthefourofyouforquitesometimenow.AndIhopeyou’llacceptmysincereapologiesforinvadingyourprivacy.Ididitwithonlythebestintentions,Ipromiseyou.”
“Withallduerespect,sir,”Art3missaid.“Youdidn’tanswerhisquestion.Howdidyougainaccesstothischatroomwithoutaninvitation?
Andwithoutanyofusevenknowingyouwerehere?”
“Forgiveme,”hesaid.“Icanseewhythismightconcernyou.Butyouneedn’tworry.Myavatarhasmanyuniquepowers,includingtheabilitytoenterprivatechatroomsuninvited.”AsMorrowspoke,hewalkedovertooneofAech’sbookshelvesandbegantobrowsethroughsomevintagerole-playinggamesupplements.“PriortotheoriginallaunchoftheOASIS,whenJimandIcreatedouravatars,wegaveourselvessuperuseraccesstotheentiresimulation.Inadditiontobeingimmortalandinvincible,ouravatarscouldgoprettymuchanywhereanddoprettymuchanything.NowthatAnorakisgone,myavataristheonlyonewiththesepowers.”Heturnedtofacethefourofus.“Nooneelsehastheabilitytoeavesdroponyou.EspeciallynottheSixers.OASISchat-roomencryptionprotocolsarerocksolid,Iassureyou.”Hechuckledlightly.“My
presenceherenotwithstanding.”
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“Heknockedoverthatstackofcomicbooks!”IsaidtoAech.“Afterourfirstmeetinginhere,remember?Itoldyouitwasn’tasoftwareglitch.”
Ognoddedandgaveusaguiltyshrug.“Thatwasme.Icanbeprettyclumsyattimes.”
Therewasanotherbriefsilence,duringwhichIfinallyworkedupthecouragetospeaktoMorrowdirectly.“Mr.Morrow—,”Ibegan.
“Please,”Morrowsaid,raisingahand.“CallmeOg.”
“Allright,”Isaid,laughingnervously.Evenunderthecircumstances,Iwascompletelystarstruck.Icouldn’tbelieveIwasactuallyaddressingtheOgdenMorrow.“Og.Wouldyoumindtellinguswhyyou’vebeeneavesdroppingonus?”
“BecauseIwanttohelpyou,”hereplied.“AndfromwhatIheardamomentago,itsoundsasthoughyoucouldallusemyhelp.”Weallexchangednervouslooks,andOgseemedtodetectourskepticism.“Please,don’tmisunderstandme,”hecontinued.“I’mnotgoingtogiveyouanyclues,orprovideyouwithanyinformationtohelpyoureachtheegg.Thatwouldruinallthefun,wouldn’tit?”Hewalkedbackovertous,andhistoneturnedserious.“Justbeforehedied,IpromisedJimthat,inhisabsence,IwoulddoeverythingIcouldtoprotectthespiritandintegrityofhiscontest.That’swhyI’mhere.”
“But,sir—Og,”Isaid.“Inyourautobiography,youwrotethatyouandJamesHallidaydidn’tspeakduringthelasttenyearsofhislife.”
Morrowgavemeanamusedsmile.“Comeon,kid,”hesaid.“Youcan’tbelieveeverythingyouread.”Helaughed.“Actually,thatstatementwasmostlytrue.I
didn’tspeakwithJimforthelastdecadeofhislife.Notuntiljustafewweeksbeforehedied.”Hepaused,asifcallingupthememory.
“Atthetime,Ididn’tevenknowhewassick.Hejustcalledmeupoutoftheblue,andwemetinaprivatechatroom,muchlikethisone.Thenhetoldmeabouthisillness,thecontest,andwhathehadplanned.Hewasworriedtheremightstillbeafewbugsinthegates.Orthatcomplicationsmightariseafterhewasgonethatwouldpreventthecontestfromproceedingashe’dintended.”
“YoumeanliketheSixers?”Shotoasked.
“Exactly,”Ogsaid.“LiketheSixers.SoJimaskedmetomonitorthecontest,andtointerveneifiteverbecamenecessary.”Hescratchedhisbeard.“Tobehonest,Ididn’treallywanttheresponsibility.Butitwasthedyingwishofmyoldestfriend,soIagreed.Andforthepastsixyears,I’veClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd314
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watchedfromthesidelines.AndeventhoughtheSixershavedoneeverythingtostacktheoddsagainstyou,somehowyoufourhavepersevered.
Butnow,afterhearingyoudescribeyourcurrentcircumstances,Ithinkthetimehasfinallycomeformetotakeaction,tomaintaintheintegrityofJim’sgame.”
Art3mis,Shoto,Aech,andIallexchangedlooksofamazement,asifseekingreassurancefromoneanotherthatthiswasallreallyhappening.
“IwanttoofferthefourofyousanctuaryatmyhomehereinOregon,”
Ogsaid.“Fromhere,you’llbeabletoexecuteyourplanandcompleteyourquestinsafety,withouthavingtoworryaboutSixeragentstrackingyoudownandkickinginyourdoor.Icanprovideeachofyouwithastate-of-the-artimmersionrig,afiber-opticconnectiontotheOASIS,andanythingelseyoumightneed.”
Anotherstunnedsilence.“Thankyou,sir!”Ifinallyblurtedout,resistingtheurgetofalltomykneesandbowrepeatedly.
“It’stheleastIcando.”
“That’sanincrediblykindoffer,Mr.Morrow,”Shotosaid.“ButIliveinJapan.”
“Iknow,Shoto,”Ogsaid.“I’vealreadycharteredaprivatejetforyou.
It’swaitingattheOsakaairport.Ifyousendmeyourcurrentlocation,I’llarrangeforalimotopickyouupandtakeyoutotherunway.”
Shotowasspeechlessforasecond;thenhebowedlow.“Arigato,Morrow-san.”
“Don’tmentionit,kid.”HeturnedtoArt3mis.“Younglady,Iunderstandthatyou’recurrentlyattheVancouverairport?I’vemadetravelarrangementsforyou,aswell.Adriveriscurrentlywaitingforyouinthebaggageclaimarea,holdingasignwiththename‘Benatar’onit.He’lltakeyoutotheplaneI’vecharteredforyou.”
ForasecondIthoughtArt3mismightbowtoo.ButthensheranoverandthrewherarmsaroundOginabearhug.“Thankyou,Og,”shesaid.
“Thankyou,thankyou,thankyou!”
“You’rewelcome,dear,”hesaidwithanembarrassedlaugh.Whenshefinallyreleasedhim,heturnedtoAechandme.“Aech,Iunderstandthatyouhaveavehicle,andthatyou’recurrentlyinthevicinityofPittsburgh?”Aechnodded.“Ifyouwouldn’tminddrivingtoColumbustoretrieveyourfriendParzivalhere,I’llarrangeforajettopickupbothofyouattheColumbusairport.Thatis,ifyouboysdon’tmindsharingaride?”
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“No,thatsoundsperfect,”Aechsaid,glancingatmesideways.
“Thanks,Og.”
“Yes,thankyou,”Irepeated.“You’realifesaver.”
“Ihopeso.”Hegavemeagrimsmile,thenturnedtoaddresseveryone.
“Safetravels,allofyou.I’llseeyousoon.”Andthenhevanished,justasquicklyashe’dappeared.
“Well,thisblows,”Isaid,turningtoAech.“Art3misandShotogetlimos,andIhavetobumaridetotheairportwithyouruglyass?Insomeshit-heapRV?”
“It’snotashit-heap,”Aechsaid,laughing.“Andyou’rewelcometotakeacab,asshole.”
“Thisisgonnabeinteresting,”Isaid,stealingaquickglanceatArt3mis.
“Thefourofusarefinallygoingtomeetinperson.”
“Itwillbeanhonor,”Shotosaid.“I’mlookingforwardtoit.”
“Yeah,”Art3missaid,lockingeyeswithme.“Ican’twait.”
...
AfterShotoandArt3misloggedout,IgaveAechmycurrentlocation.“It’saPlugfranchise.Callmewhenyougethere,andI’llmeetyououtfront.”
“Willdo,”hesaid.“Listen,Ishouldwarnyou.Idon’tlookanythinglikemyavatar.”
“So?Whodoes?I’mnotreallythistall.Ormuscular.Andmynoseisslightlybigger—”
“I’mjustwarningyou.Meetingmemightbe...kindofashockforyou.”
“OK.Thenwhydon’tyoujusttellmewhatyoulooklikerightnow?”
“I’malreadyontheroad,”hesaid,ignoringmyquestion.“I’llseeyouinafew
hours,OK?”
“OK.Drivesafe,amigo.”
DespitewhatI’dsaidtoAech,knowingthatIwasabouttomeethiminpersonafteralltheseyearsmadememorenervousthanIwantedtoadmit.ButitwasnothingcomparedtotheapprehensionIalreadyfeltbuildinginsidemeattheprospectofmeetingArt3misoncewereachedOregon.Tryingtopicturetheactualmomentfilledmewithamixtureofexcitementandabjectterror.Whatwouldshebelikeinperson?WasthephotoI’dseeninherfileactuallyafake?DidIstillhaveanykindofchancewithheratall?
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WithaHerculeaneffort,Imanagedtoputheroutofmymindbyforcingmyselftofocusontheapproachingbattle.
AssoonasIloggedoutofAech’sBasement,Isentoutmy“CalltoArms”e-mailasaglobalannouncementtoeveryOASISuser.Knowingmostofthosee-mailswouldn’tgetthroughthespamfilters,Ialsopostedittoeveryguntermessageboard.ThenImadeashortvidcaprecordingofmyavatarreadingitaloudandsetittorunonacontinuouslooponmyPOVchannel.
Thewordspreadquickly.Withinanhour,ourplantoassaultCastleAnorakwasthetopstoryoneverysinglenewsfeed,accompaniedbyheadlineslikeguntersdeclareall-outwaronthesixersandtopguntersaccuseioiofkidnappingandmurderandisthehuntforhalliday’seggfinallyover?
SomeofthenewsfeedswerealreadyrunningthevideoclipofDaito’smurderI’dsentthem,alongwiththetextofSorrento’smemo,citingananonymoussourceforboth.Sofar,IOIhaddeclinedtocommentoneither.Bynow,SorrentowouldknowI’dsomehowgainedaccesstotheSixers’privatedatabase.IwishedIcouldseehisfacewhenhelearnedhowI’ddoneit—thatI’dspentanentireweekjustafewfloorsbelowhisoffice.
Ispentthenextfewhoursoutfittingmyavatarandpreparingmyselfmentallyforwhatwastocome.WhenIcouldnolongerkeepmyeyesopen,IdecidedtocatchaquicknapwhileIwaitedforAechtoarrive.Idisabledtheauto-log-outfeatureonmyaccount,thendriftedoffinthehapticchairwithmynewjacketdrapedovermeasablanket,clutchinginonehandthepistolI’dpurchasedearlierthatday.
...
IwokewithastartsometimelatertothesoundofAech’sringtone.Hewascallingtoletmeknowhe’darrivedoutside.Iclimbedoutoftherig,collectedmythings,andreturnedtherentedgearatthefrontdesk.WhenIsteppedoutintothestreet,Isawthatnighthadfallen.Thefrozenairhitmelikeabucketoficewater.
Aech’stinyRVwasjustafewyardsaway,parkedatthecurb.Itwasamocha-coloredSunRider,abouttwentyfeetlong,andatleasttwodecadesold.ApatchworkofsolarcellscoveredtheRV’sroofandmostofitsbody,alongwithaliberalamountofrust.Thewindowsweretintedblack,soIcouldn’tseeinside.
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Itookadeepbreathandcrossedtheslush-coveredsidewalk,feelingastrangecombinationofdreadandexcitement.AsIapproachedtheRV,adoornearthecenteroftherightsideslidopenandashortstepladderextendedtothepavement.Iclimbedinsideandthedoorslidshutbehindme.IfoundmyselfintheRV’stinykitchen.Itwasdarkexceptfortherunninglightssetintothecarpetedfloor.Tomyleft,Isawasmallbedroomareaattheback,wedgedintoaloftabovetheRV’sbatterycompartment.
Iturnedandwalkedslowlyacrossthedarkenedkitchen,thenpulledbackthebeadedcurtaincoveringthedoorwaytothecab.
AheavysetAfricanAmericangirlsatintheRV’sdriverseat,clutchingthewheel
tightlyandstaringstraightahead.Shewasaboutmyage,withshort,kinkyhairandchocolate-coloredskinthatappearediridescentinthesoftglowofthedashboardindicators.ShewaswearingavintageRush2112concertT-shirt,andthenumberswerewarpedaroundherlargebosom.Shealsohadonfadedblackjeansandapairofstuddedcombatboots.Sheappearedtobeshivering,eventhoughitwasniceandwarminthecab.
Istoodthereforamoment,staringatherinsilence,waitingforhertoacknowledgemypresence.Eventually,sheturnedandsmiledatme,anditwasasmileIrecognizedimmediately.ThatCheshiregrinI’dseenthousandsoftimesbefore,onthefaceofAech’savatar,duringthecountlessnightswe’dspenttogetherintheOASIS,tellingbadjokesandwatchingbadmovies.Andhersmilewasn’ttheonlythingIfoundfamiliar.Ialsorecognizedthesetofhereyesandthelinesofherface.Therewasnodoubtinmymind.Theyoungwomansittinginfrontofmewasmybestfriend,Aech.
Awaveofemotionwashedoverme.Shockgavewaytoasenseofbetrayal.Howcouldhe—she—deceivemealltheseyears?IfeltmyfaceflushwithembarrassmentasIrememberedalloftheadolescentintimaciesI’dsharedwithAech.ApersonI’dtrustedimplicitly.SomeoneIthoughtIknew.
WhenIdidn’tsayanything,hereyesdroppedtoherbootsandstayedonthem.Isatdownheavilyinthepassengerseat,stillstaringoverather,stillunsureofwhattosay.Shekeptstealingglancesatme;thenhereyeswoulddartawaynervously.Shewasstilltrembling.
WhateverangerorbetrayalIfeltquicklyevaporated.
Icouldn’thelpmyself.Istartedtolaugh.Therewasnomeannessinit,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd318
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andIknewshecouldtellthat,becausehershouldersrelaxedabitandsheletoutarelievedsigh.Thenshestartedtolaughtoo.Halflaughingandhalfcrying,Ithought.
“Hey,Aech,”Isaid,onceourlaughtersubsided.“Howgoesit?”
“It’sgoinggood,Z,”shesaid.“Allsunshineandrainbows.”Hervoicewasfamiliartoo.Justnotquiteasdeepasitwasonline.Allthistime,she’dbeenusingsoftwaretodisguiseit.
“Well,”Isaid.“Lookatus.Hereweare.”
“Yeah,”Aechreplied.“Hereweare.”
Anuncomfortablesilencedescended.Ihesitatedamoment,unsureofwhattodo.ThenIfollowedmyinstincts,crossedthesmallspacebetweenus,andputmyarmsaroundher.“It’sgoodtoseeyou,oldfriend,”Isaid.
“Thanksforcomingtogetme.”
Shereturnedthehug.“It’sgoodtoseeyoutoo,”shesaid.AndIcouldtellshemeantit.
Iletgoofherandsteppedback.“Christ,Aech,”Isaid,smiling.“Iknewyouwerehidingsomething.ButIneverimagined...”
“What?”shesaid,abitdefensively.“Youneverimaginedwhat?”
“ThatthefamousAech,renownedgunterandthemostfearedandruthlessarenacombatantintheentireOASIS,was,inreality,a...”
“Afatblackchick?”
“Iwasgoingtosay‘youngAfricanAmericanwoman.’”
Herexpressiondarkened.“There’sareasonInevertoldyou,youknow.”
“AndI’msureit’sagoodone,”Isaid.“Butitreallydoesn’tmatter.”
“Itdoesn’t?”
“Ofcoursenot.You’remybestfriend,Aech.Myonlyfriend,tobehonest.”
“Well,Istillwanttoexplain.”
“OK.Butcanitwaituntilwe’reintheair?”Isaid.“We’vegotalongwaytotravel.AndI’llfeelalotsaferoncewe’veleftthiscityinthedust.”
“We’reonourway,amigo,”shesaid,puttingtheRVingear.
...
AechfollowedOg’sdirectionstoaprivatehangarneartheColumbusairport,whereasmallluxuryjetwaswaitingforus.OghadarrangedforAech’sRVtobestoredinanearbyhangar,butithadbeenherhomeformanyyears,andIcouldtellshewasnervousaboutleavingitbehind.
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Webothstaredatthejetinwonderasweapproachedit.I’dseenairplanesintheskybefore,ofcourse,butI’dneverseenoneupclose.Travelingbyjetwassomethingonlyrichpeoplecouldafford.ThatOgcouldaffordtocharterthreedifferentjetstoretrieveuswithoutbattinganeyelashwasatestamenttojusthowinsanelywealthyhemustbe.
Thejetwascompletelyautomated,sotherewasnocrewonboard.Wewereallalone.Theplacidvoiceoftheautopilotwelcomedusaboard,thentoldustostrapinandpreparefortakeoff.Wewereupintheairwithinminutes.
Itwasthefirsttimeeitherofushadeverflown,andwebothspentthefirsthouroftheflightstaringoutthewindows,overwhelmedbytheview,aswehurtledwestwardthroughtheatmosphereattenthousandfeet,onourwaytoOregon.Finally,oncesomeofthenoveltyhadwornoff,IcouldtellthatAechwasreadytotalk.
“OK,Aech,”Isaid.“Tellmeyourstory.”
SheflashedherCheshiregrinandtookadeepbreath.“Thewholethingwasoriginallymymother’sidea,”shesaid.Thenshelaunchedintoanab-breviated
versionofherlifestory.Herrealname,shesaid,wasHelenHarris,andshewasonlyafewmonthsolderthanIwas.She’dgrownupinAtlanta,raisedbyasinglemother.HerfatherhaddiedinAfghanistanwhenshewasstillababy.Hermother,Marie,workedfromhome,inanonlinedata-processingcenter.InMarie’sopinion,theOASISwasthebestthingthathadeverhappenedtobothwomenandpeopleofcolor.Fromtheverystart,Mariehadusedawhitemaleavatartoconductallofheronlinebusiness,becauseofthemarkeddifferenceitmadeinhowshewastreatedandtheopportunitiesshewasgiven.
WhenAechfirstloggedintotheOASIS,shefollowedhermother’sadviceandcreatedaCaucasianmaleavatar.“H”hadbeenhermother’snicknameforhersinceshewasababy,soshe’ddecidedtouseitasthenameofheronlinepersona.Afewyearslater,whenshestartedattendingschoolonline,hermotherliedaboutherdaughter’sraceandgenderontheapplication.Aechwasrequiredtoprovideaphotoforherschoolprofile,soshe’dsubmittedaphotorealisticrenderingofhermaleavatar’sface,whichshe’dmodeledafterherownfeatures.
Aechtoldmethatshehadn’tseenorspokentohermothersinceleavinghomeonhereighteenthbirthday.ThatwasthedayAechhadfinallycomeouttohermotherabouthersexuality.Atfirst,hermotherrefusedtobe-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd320
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lieveshewasgay.ButthenHelenrevealedthatshe’dbeendatingagirlshemetonlinefornearlyayear.
AsAechexplainedallofthis,Icouldtellshewasstudyingmyreaction.
Iwasn’tallthatsurprised,really.Overthepastfewyears,AechandIhaddiscussedourmutualadmirationforthefemaleformonnumerousoccasions.IwasactuallyrelievedtoknowthatAechhadn’tbeendeceivingme,atleastnotonthataccount.
“Howdidyourmotherreactwhenshefoundoutyouhadagirlfriend?”
Iasked.
“Well,itturnsoutthatmymotherhadherownsetofdeep-seatedprej-udices,”Aechsaid.“Shekickedmeoutofthehouseandsaidsheneverwantedtoseemeagain.Iwashomelessforalittlewhile.Ilivedinaseriesofshelters.ButeventuallyIearnedenoughcompetingintheOASISarenaleaguestobuymyRV,andI’vebeenlivinginiteversince.IusuallyonlystopmovingwhentheRV’sbatteriesneedtorecharge.”
Aswecontinuedtotalk,goingthroughthemotionsofgettingtoknoweachother,Irealizedthatwealreadydidknoweachother,aswellasanytwopeoplecould.We’dknowneachotherforyears,inthemostintimatewaypossible.We’dconnectedonapurelymentallevel.Iunderstoodher,trustedher,andlovedherasadearfriend.Noneofthathadchanged,orcouldbechangedbyanythingasinconsequentialashergender,orskincolor,orsexualorientation.
Therestoftheflightseemedtogobyinablink.AechandIquicklyfellintoouroldfamiliarrhythm,andbeforelongitwaslikewewerebackintheBasement,trash-talkingeachotheroveragameofQuakeorJoust.
AnyfearsIhadabouttheresiliencyofourfriendshipintherealworldhadvanishedbythetimeourjettoucheddownonOg’sprivaterunwayinOregon.
We’dbeenflyingwestacrossthecountry,justafewhoursaheadofthesunrise,soitwasstilldarkwhenwelanded.AechandIbothfrozeinourtracksaswesteppedofftheplane,gazinginwonderatthescenearoundus.Eveninthedimmoonlight,theviewwasbreathtaking.Thedark,toweringsilhouettesoftheWallowaMountainssurroundedusonallsides.
Rowsofbluerunwaylightsstretchedoutalongthevalleyfloorbehindus,delineatingOg’sprivatelandingstrip.Directlyahead,asteepcobblestonestaircaseattheedgeoftherunwayleduptoagrand,floodlitmansionconstructedonaplateaunearthebaseofthemountainrange.SeveralClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd321
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waterfallswerevisibleinthedistance,spillingoffthepeaksbeyondMorrow’smansion.
“ItlooksjustlikeRivendell,”Aechsaid,takingthewordsrightoutofmymouth.
Inodded.“ItlooksexactlylikeRivendellintheLordoftheRingsmovies,”Isaid,stillstaringupatitinawe.“Og’swifewasabigTolkienfan,remember?Hebuiltthisplaceforher.”
Weheardanelectrichumbehindusasthejet’sstaircaseretractedandthehatchclosed.Theenginespoweredbackupandthejetrotated,preparingtotakeoffagain.Westoodandwatcheditlaunchbackupintotheclear,starrysky.Thenweturnedandbegantomountthestaircaseleadinguptothehouse.Whenwefinallyreachedthetop,OgdenMorrowwastherewaitingforus.
“Welcome,myfriends!”Ogbellowed,extendingbothhishandsingreeting.Hewasdressedinaplaidbathrobeandbunnyslippers.“Welcometomyhome!”
“Thankyou,sir,”Aechsaid.“Thanksforinvitingushere.”
“Ah,youmustbeAech,”hereplied,claspingherhand.Ifhewassurprisedby
herappearance,hedidn’tshowit.“Irecognizeyourvoice.”Hegaveherawink,followedbyabearhug.Thenheturnedandhuggedme,too.“AndyoumustbeWade—Imean,Parzival!Welcome!Welcome!It’strulyanhonortomeetyouboth!”
“Thehonorisours,”Isaid.“Wereallycan’tthankyouenoughforhelpingus.”
“You’vealreadythankedmeenough,sostopit!”hesaid.Heturnedandledusacrossanexpansivegreenlawn,towardhisenormoushouse.“Ican’ttellyouhowgooditistohavevisitors.Sadtosay,I’vebeenallaloneheresinceKiradied.”Hewassilentamoment;thenhelaughed.“Aloneexceptformycooks,maids,andgardeners,ofcourse.Buttheyallliveheretoo,sotheydon’treallycountasvisitors.”
NeitherInorAechknewhowtoreply,sowejustkeptsmilingandnodding.Eventually,Iworkedupthecouragetospeak.“Havetheothersarrivedyet?ShotoandArt3mis?”
SomethingaboutthewayIsaid“Art3mis”madeMorrowchuckle,longandloud.Afterafewseconds,IrealizedAechwaslaughingatmetoo.
“What?”Isaid.“What’ssofunny?”
“Yes,”Ogsaid,grinning.“Art3misarrivedfirst,severalhoursago,andShoto’splanegothereaboutthirtyminutesbeforeyouarrived.”
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“Arewegoingtomeetthemnow?”Iasked,doinganextremelypoorjobofhidingmyapprehension.
Ogshookhishead.“Art3misfeltthatmeetingyoutworightnowwouldbeanunnecessarydistraction.Shewantedtowaituntilafterthe
‘bigevent.’AndShotoseemedtoagree.”Hestudiedmeforamoment.“Itprobablyisforthebest,youknow.You’veallgotabigdayaheadofyou.”
Inodded,feelingastrangecombinationofreliefanddisappointment.
“Wherearetheynow?”Aechasked.
Ograisedafisttriumphantlyintheair.“They’realreadyloggedin,preparingforyourassaultontheSixers!”Hisvoiceechoedacrossthegroundsandoffthehighstonewallsofhismansion.“Followme!Thehourdrawsnear!”
Og’senthusiasmpulledmebackintothemoment,andIfeltanervousknotforminthepitofmystomach.Wefollowedourbathrobedbenefac-toracrosstheexpansivemoonlitcourtyard.Asweapproachedthemainhouse,wepassedasmallgated-ingardenfilledwithflowers.Thegardenwasinastrangelocation,andIcouldn’tfigureoutitspurposeuntilIsawthelargetombstoneatitscenter.ThenIrealizeditmustbeKiraMorrow’sgrave.Buteveninthebrightmoonlight,itwasstilltoodarkformetomakeouttheinscriptionontheheadstone.
Ogledusthroughthemansion’slavishfrontentrance.Thelightswereoffinside,butinsteadofturningthemon,Morrowtookanhonest-to-Godtorchoffthewallandusedittoilluminateourway.Evenindimtorchlight,thegrandeuroftheplaceamazedme.Gianttapestriesandahugecollectionoffantasyartworkcoveredthewalls,whilegargoylestatuesandsuitsofarmorlinedthehallways.
AswefollowedOg,Iworkedupenoughcouragetospeaktohim.“Listen,Iknowthisprobablyisn’tthetime,”Isaid.“ButI’mahugefanofyourwork.IgrewupplayingHalcydoniaInteractive’seducationalgames.Theytaughtmehowtoread,write,domath,solvepuzzles...”Iproceededtorambleonaswewalked,ravingaboutallofmyfavoriteHalcydoniatitlesandgeekingoutonOginaclassicallyembarrassingfashion.
AechmusthavethoughtIwasbrown-nosing,becauseshesnickeredthroughoutmystammeringmonologue,butOgwasverycoolaboutit.
“That’swonderfultohear,”hesaid,seeminggenuinelypleased.“MywifeandIwereveryproudofthosegames.I’msogladyouhavefondmemoriesofthem.”
Weroundedacorner,andAechandIbothfrozebeforetheentranceof
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agiantroomfilledwithrowafterrowofoldvideogames.WebothknewitmustbeJamesHalliday’sclassicvideogamecollection—thecollectionhe’dwilledtoMorrowafterhisdeath.Ogglancedaroundandsawuslin-geringbytheentrance,thenhurriedbacktoretrieveus.
“Ipromisetogiveyouatourlater,whenalltheexcitementisover,”Ogsaid,hisbreathingabitlabored.Hewasmovingquicklyforamanhisageandsize.HeledusdownaspiralstonestaircasetoanelevatorthatcarriedusdownseveralmorefloorstoOg’sbasement.Thedecorherewasmuchmoremodern.WefollowedOgthroughamazeofcarpetedhallwaysuntilwereachedarowofsevencirculardoorways,eachnumbered.
“Andhereweare!”Morrowsaid,gesturingwiththetorch.“ThesearemyOASISimmersionbays.They’realltop-of-the-lineHabashawrigs.
OIR-Ninety-fourhundreds.”
“Ninety-fourhundreds?Nokidding?”Aechletoutalowwhistle.
“Wicked.”
“Wherearetheothers?”Iasked,lookingaroundnervously.
“Art3misandShotoarealreadyinbaystwoandthree,”hesaid.“Bayoneismine.Youtwocantakeyourpickoftheothers.”
Istaredatthedoors,wonderingwhichoneArt3miswasbehind.
Ogmotionedtotheendofthehall.“You’llfindhapticsuitsofallsizesinthedressingrooms.Now,getyourselvessuitedandbooted!”
HesmiledwidewhenAechandIemergedfromthedressingroomsafew
minuteslater,eachdressedinbrand-newhapticsuitsandgloves.
“Excellent!”Ogsaid.“Nowgrababayandlogin.Theclockisticking!”
Aechturnedtofaceme.Icouldtellshewantedtosaysomething,butwordsseemedtofailher.Afterafewsecondsshestuckoutherglovedhand.Itookit.
“Goodluck,Aech,”Isaid.
“Goodluck,Z,”shereplied.ThensheturnedtoOgandsaid,“Thanksagain,Og.”Beforehecouldrespond,shestoodonhertiptoesandkissedhimonthecheek.Thenshedisappearedthroughthedoortobayfourandithissedshutbehindher.
Oggrinnedafterher,thenturnedtofaceme.“Thewholeworldisrootingforthefourofyou.Trynottoletthemdown.”
“We’lldoourbest.”
“Iknowyouwill.”HeofferedmehishandandIshookit.
Itookasteptowardmyimmersionbay,thenturnedback.“Og,canIaskyouonequestion?”Isaid.
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Heraisedaneyebrow.“Ifyou’regoingtoaskmewhat’sinsidetheThirdGate,Ihavenoidea,”hesaid.“AndevenifIdid,Iwouldn’ttellyou.Youshouldknowthat....”
Ishookmyhead.“No,that’snotit.IwantedtoaskwhatitwasthatendedyourfriendshipwithHalliday.InalltheresearchI’vedone,I’veneverbeenabletofindout.Whathappened?”
Morrowstudiedmeforamoment.He’dbeenaskedthisquestionininterviews
manytimesbeforeandhadalwaysignoredit.Idon’tknowwhyhedecidedtotellme.Maybehe’dbeenwaitingalltheseyearstotellsomeone.
“ItwasbecauseofKira.Mywife.”Hepausedamoment,thenclearedhisthroatandcontinued.“Likeme,he’dbeeninlovewithhersincehighschool.Ofcourse,heneverhadthecouragetoactonit.Sosheneverknewhowhefeltabouther.AndneitherdidI.Hedidn’ttellmeaboutituntilthelasttimeIspoketohim,rightbeforehedied.Eventhen,itwashardforhimtocommunicatewithme.Jimwasneververygoodwithpeople,orwithexpressinghisemotions.”
Inoddedsilentlyandwaitedforhimtocontinue.
“EvenafterKiraandIgotengaged,IthinkJimstillharboredsomefantasyofstealingherawayfromme.Butoncewegotmarried,heabandonedthatnotion.Hetoldmehe’dstoppedspeakingtomebecauseoftheoverwhelm-ingjealousyhefelt.Kirawastheonlywomanheeverloved.”Morrow’svoicecaughtinhisthroat.“IcanunderstandwhyJimfeltthatway.Kirawasveryspecial.Itwasimpossiblenottofallinlovewithher.”Hesmiledatme.“Youknowwhatit’sliketomeetsomeonelikethat,don’tyou?”
“Ido,”Isaid.Then,whenIrealizedhehadnomoretosayonthesubject,Isaid,“Thankyou,Mr.Morrow.Thankyoufortellingmeallofthat.”
“You’requitewelcome,”hesaid.Thenhewalkedovertohisimmersionbay,andthedooririsedopen.Inside,Icouldseethathisrighadbeenmodifiedtoincludeseveralstrangecomponents,includinganOASISconsolemodifiedtolooklikeavintageCommodore64.Heglancedbackatme.“Goodluck,Parzival.You’regoingtoneedit.”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Iasked.“Duringthefight?”
“Sitbackandwatch,ofcourse!”hesaid.“Thislookstobethemostepicbattleinvideogamehistory.”Hegrinnedatmeonelasttime,thensteppedthroughthedoorandwasgone,leavingmealoneinthedimlylithallway.
IspentafewminutesthinkingabouteverythingMorrowhadtoldme.
ThenIwalkedovertomyownimmersionbayandsteppedinside.
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Itwasasmallsphericalroom.Agleaminghapticchairwassuspendedonajointedhydraulicarmattachedtotheceiling.Therewasnoomnidirectionaltreadmill,becausetheroomitselfservedthatfunction.Whileyouwereloggedin,youcouldwalkorruninanydirectionandthespherewouldrotatearoundandbeneathyou,preventingyoufromevertouchingthewall.Itwaslikebeinginsideagianthamsterball.
Iclimbedintothechairandfeltitadjusttofitthecontoursofmybody.
Aroboticarmextendedfromthechairandslippedabrand-newOculancevisorontomyface.It,too,adjustedsothatitfitperfectly.Thevisorscannedmyretinasandthesystempromptedmetospeakmynewpassphrase:“ReindeerFlotillaSetecAstronomy.”
Itookadeepbreathasthesystemloggedmein.
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Iwasreadytorock.
Myavatarwasbuffedtotheeyeballsandarmedtotheteeth.IwaspackingasmanymagicitemsandasmuchfirepowerasIcouldsqueezeintomyinventory.
Everythingwasinplace.Ourplanwasinmotion.Itwastimetogo.
Ienteredmystronghold’shangarandpressedabuttononthewalltoopenthelaunchdoors.Theyslidback,slowlyrevealingthelaunchtunnelleadinguptoFalco’ssurface.Iwalkedtotheendoftherunway,pastmyX-wingandthe
Vonnegut.Iwouldn’tbetakingeitherofthemtoday.Theywerebothgoodships,withformidableweaponsanddefenses,butneithercraftwouldoffermuchprotectionintheepicshitstormthatwasabouttounfoldonChthonia.Fortunately,Inowhadanewmodeoftransporta-tion.
Iremovedthetwelve-inchLeopardonrobotfrommyavatar’sinventoryandsetitdowngentlyontherunway.ShortlybeforeI’dbeenarrestedbyIOI,I’dtakensometimetoexaminethetoyLeopardonrobotandascertainitspowers.AsIsuspected,therobotwasactuallyapowerfulmagicalitem.Ithadn’ttakenmelongtofigureoutthecommandwordrequiredtoactivateit.JustlikeinToei’soriginalSupaidamanTVseries,yousummonedtherobotsimplybyshoutingitsname.Ididthisnow,takingtheprecautionofbackingawayfromtherobotagooddistancebeforeshouting“Leopardon!”
Iheardapiercingshriekthatsoundedlikerendingmetal.AsecondClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd327
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later,theonce-tinyrobothadgrowntoaheightofalmostahundredmeters.Thetopoftherobot’sheadnowprotrudedthroughtheopenlaunchdoorsinthehangarceiling.
Igazedupatthetoweringrobot,admiringtheattentiontodetailHallidayhadputintocodingit.EveryfeatureoftheoriginalJapanesemechhadbeenre-created,includingitsgiantgleamingswordandspiderweb-embossedshield.Atinyaccessdoorwassetintotherobot’smassiveleftfoot,anditopenedasIapproached,revealingasmallelevatorinside.Itcarriedmeupthroughtheinterioroftherobot’slegandtorso,tothecockpitlocatedinsideitsarmoredchest.AsIseatedmyselfinthecaptain’schair,Ispottedasilvercontrolbraceletinaclearcaseonthewall.Itookitoutandsnappeditontomyavatar’swrist.ThebraceletwouldallowmetousevoicecommandstocontroltherobotwhileIwasoutsideit.
Severalrowsofbuttonsweresetintothecommandconsoleinfrontofme,alllabeledinJapanese.Ipressedoneofthemandtheenginesroaredtolife.ThenI
hitthethrottleandthetwinrocketboostersineachoftherobot’sfeetignited,launchingitupward,outofmystrongholdandintoFalco’sstar-filledsky.
InoticedthatHallidayhadaddedanoldeight-tracktapeplayertothecockpitcontrolpanel.Therewasalsoarackofeight-tracktapesmountedovermyrightshoulder.Igrabbedoneandslappeditintothedeck.DirtyDeedsDoneDirtCheapbyAC/DCbegantoblastoutoftherobot’sinternalandexternalspeakers,solouditmademychairvibrate.
Assoonastherobotwasclearofmyhangar,Ishouted“ChangeMarveller!”intothecontrolbracelet(thevoicecommandsappearedtoworkonlyifyoushoutedthem).Therobot’slegs,arms,andheadfoldedinwardandlockedintonewpositions,transformingtherobotintoastarshipknownastheMarveller.Oncethetransformationwascomplete,IleftFalco’sorbitandsetacoursefortheneareststargate.
WhenIemergedfromthestargateinSectorTen,myradarscreenlituplikeaChristmastree.Thousandsofspacevehiclesofeverymakeandmodelwerecrawlingthroughthestarryblacknessaroundme,everythingfromsingle-seatercrafttogiantmoon-sizedfreighters.I’dneverseensomanystarshipsinoneplace.Asteadystreamofthempouredoutofthestargate,whileothersconvergedontheareafromeverydirectioninthesky.Alloftheshipsgraduallyfunneledtogether,formingalong,haphazardcaravanofvesselsstretchingtowardChthonia,atinyblue-brownorbClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd328
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floatinginthedistance.ItlookedlikeeverysinglepersonintheOASIS
washeadedforCastleAnorak.Ifeltabriefsurgeofexhilaration,eventhoughIknewArt3mis’swarningmightstillprovetrue—therewasachancemostoftheseavatarswerehereonlytowatchtheshowandhadnointentionofactuallyriskingtheirlivestofighttheSixers.
Art3mis.Afterallthistime,shewasnowinaroomjustafewfeetawayfrom
me.Wewouldactuallybemeetinginpersonassoonasthisfightwasover.Thethoughtshouldhaveterrifiedme,butinsteadIfeltazencalmwashoverme:WhateverwasgoingtohappendownonChthonia,everythingI’driskedhadalreadybeenworthit.
ItransformedtheMarvellerbackintoitsrobotconfiguration,thenjoinedthelongparadeofspacecraft.Myshipstoodoutinthevastarrayofvessels,sinceitwastheonlygiantrobot.Acloudofsmallershipsquicklyformedaroundme,pilotedbycuriousavatarszoominginforacloserlookatLeopardon.Ihadtomutemycomlinkbecausesomanydifferentpeopleweretryingtohailme,askingwhothehellIwasandwhereI’dpickedupsuchasweetride.
AstheplanetChthoniagrewlargerinmycockpitwindow,thedensityandnumberofshipsaroundmeseemedtoincreaseexponentially.WhenIfinallyenteredtheplanet’satmosphereandbegantodescendtowardthesurface,itwaslikeflyingthroughaswarmofmetalinsects.WhenIreachedtheareaaroundCastleAnorak,Ihadahardtimebelievingmyeyes.Aconcentrated,pulsingmassofshipsandavatarscoveredthegroundandfilledtheair.ItwaslikesomeotherworldlyWoodstock.Shoulder-to-shoulderavatarsstretchedtothehorizoninalldirections.Thousandsmorefloatedandflewthroughtheairabove,dodgingtheconstantinfluxofships.AndatthecenterofallthisinsanitystoodCastleAnorakitself,anonyxjewelgleamingbeneaththeSixers’transparentsphericalshield.
Everyfewsecondssomehaplessavatarorshipwouldinadvertentlyflyorcareenintotheshieldandgetvaporized,likeaflyhittingabugzapper.
WhenIgotcloser,Ispottedanopenpatchofgrounddirectlyinfrontofthecastle’sentrance,justoutsidetheshieldwall.Threegiantfiguresstoodsidebysideatthecenteroftheclearing.ThecrowdaroundthemwascontinuouslysurginginwardandthenrecedingasavatarspushedbackagainsteachothertotrytokeeparespectfuldistancefromAech,Art3mis,andShoto,whoeachsatinsidetheirowngleaminggiantrobot.
ThiswasmyfirstopportunitytoseewhichrobotsAech,Art3mis,andClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd329
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ShotohadselectedafterclearingtheSecondGate,andittookmeamomenttoplacethetoweringfemalerobotArt3miswaspiloting.Itwasblackandchromeincolor,withelaborateboomerang-shapedheadgearandsymmetricalredbreastplatesthatmadeitlooklikeafemaleversionofTranzorZ.ThenIrealizeditwasthefemaleversionofTranzorZ,anobscurecharacterfromtheoriginalMazingerZanimeseriesknownasMinervaX.
AechhadselectedanRX-78GundammechfromtheoriginalMobileSuitGundamanimeseries,oneofhislongtimefavorites.(EventhoughInowknewAechwasactuallyafemaleinreallife,heravatarwasstillmale,soIdecidedtocontinuetorefertohimassuch.)Shotostoodseveralheadstallerthanbothofthem,concealedinsidethecockpitofRaideen,theenormousred-and-bluerobotfromthemid-
’70sBraveRaideenanimeseries.Themassivemechclutchedhissignaturegoldenbowinonehandandhadalargespikedshieldstrappedtotheother.
AroarsweptthroughthecrowdasIflewinlowovertheshieldandrocketedtoahaltabovetheothers.IrotatedmyorientationsothatLeopardonwasupright,thencuttheenginesanddroppedtheremainingdistancetothesurface.Myrobotlandedononeknee,andtheimpactshooktheground.AsIstooditupright,theseaofonlookersbegantochantmyavatar’sname.Par-zi-val!Par-zi-val!
Asthechantingfadedbacktoadullroar,Iturnedtofacemycompan-ions.
“Niceentrance,yabigshow-off,”Art3missaid,usingourprivatecomlinkchannel.“Didyoushowuplateonpurpose?”
“Notmyfault,Iswear,”Isaid,tryingtoplayitcool.“Therewasalonglineatthestargate.”
Aechnoddedhismech’smassivehead.“Everytransportterminalontheplanethasbeenspittingoutavatarssincelastnight,”hesaid,motioningtothescenearounduswithhisGundam’smassivehand.“Thisisunreal.I’veneverseensomanyshipsoravatarsinoneplace.”
“Meneither,”Art3missaid.“I’msurprisedtheGSSserverscanhandletheload,withsomuchactivityinonesector.Buttheredoesn’tseemtobeanylagatall.”
Itookalonglookattheseaofavatarsaroundus,thenshiftedmyattentiontothecastle.Thousandsofflyingavatarsandshipscontinuedtobuzzaroundtheshield,occasionallyfiringbullets,lasers,missiles,andotherClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd330
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projectilesatit,allofwhichimpactedharmlesslyonthesurface.Insidethesphere,thousandsofpower-armoredSixeravatarsstoodinsilentformation,completelyencirclingthecastle.Interspersedthroughtheirrankswererowsofhovertanksandgunships.Inanyothersetting,theSixerarmywouldhaveappearedformidable.Maybeevenunstoppable.Butinthefaceoftheendlessmobthatnowsurroundedthem,theSixerslookedwoefullyoutnumberedandoutmatched.
“So,Parzival,”saidShoto,turninghisrobot’shugeheadinmydirection.“It’sshowtime,oldfriend.Ifthatspheredoesn’tcomedownlikeyoupromised,thisisgoingtobeprettyembarrassing.”
“‘Hanwillhavethatshielddown,’”Aechquoted.“‘We’vegottogivehimmoretime!’”
Ilaughed,thenusedmyrobot’srighthandtotapthebackofitsleftwrist,indicatingthetime.“Aechisright.It’sstillsixminutestonoon.”
Theendofmysentencewasdrownedoutbyanotherroarfromthecrowd.Directlyinfrontofus,insidethesphere,themassivefrontdoorsofCastleAnorakhadjustswungopen,andnowasingleSixeravatarwasemergingfromwithin.
Sorrento.
Grinningatthedinofbooingandhissingthatgreetedhisarrival,SorrentowavedhishandattheSixertroopsstationeddirectlyinfrontofthecastleandtheyimmediatelyscattered,clearingalargeopenspace.Sorrentosteppedforwardintoit,positioninghimselfdirectlyoppositeus,justafewdozenyardsaway,on
theothersideoftheshield.TenotherSixeravatarsemergedfromthecastleandpositionedthemselvesbehindSorrento,eachofthemstandingagooddistanceapart.
“Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthis,”Art3mismutteredintoherheadset.
“Yeah,”Aechwhispered.“Metoo.”
Sorrentosurveyedthescene,thensmiledupatus.Whenhespoke,hisvoicewasamplifiedthroughpowerfulspeakersmountedontheSixergunshipsandhovertanks,allowinghimtobeheardbyeveryoneinthearea.
Andsincetherewerecamerasandreportersfromeverymajornewsfeedoutletpresent,Iknewhiswordswerebeingbroadcasttotheentireworld.
“WelcometoCastleAnorak,”Sorrentosaid.“We’vebeenexpectingyou.”Hemadeasweepinggesture,indicatingtheangrymobthatsurroundedhim.“Imustsay,weareabitsurprisedsomanyofyoushowedupheretoday.Bynowitmustbeobvious,toeventhemostignorantamongyou,thatnothingcangetpastourshield.”
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Hisproclamationwasmetwithadeafeningroarofshoutedthreats,insults,andcolorfulprofanity.Iwaitedamoment,thenraisedbothofmyrobot’shands,callingforquiet.Onceasemblanceofsilencehaddescended,Igotonthepubliccommchannel,whichhadthesameeffectasturningonagiantPAsystem.Idialedmyheadsetvolumedowntokillthefeedback,thensaid,“You’rewrong,Sorrento.We’recomingin.Atnoon.
Allofus.”
Aroarofapprovaleruptedfromtheassembledgunters.Sorrentodidn’tbotherwaitingforittodiedown.“You’rewelcometotry,”hesaid,stillgrinning.Then
heproducedanitemfromhisinventoryandplaceditonthegroundinfrontofhim.Izoomedinforacloserlookandfeltthemusclesinmyjawtighten.Itwasatoyrobot.Abipedaldinosaurwitharmor-platedskinandapairoflargecannonsmountedonitsshoulderblades.
Irecognizeditimmediately,fromseveralturn-of-the-centuryJapanesemonsterflicks.
ItwasMechagodzilla.
“Kiryu!”Sorrentoshouted,hisvoicestillamplified.Atthesoundofthecommandword,histinyrobotinstantlygrewinsizeuntilitstoodalmostastallasCastleAnorakitself,twicetheheightofthe“giant”robotsthatAech,Shoto,Art3mis,andIpiloted.Themechanicallizard’sarmoredheadalmosttouchedthetopofthesphericalshield.
Anawestrucksilencefelloverthecrowd,followedbyarumbleoffearfulrecognitionfromthethousandsofgunterspresent.Theyallrecognizedthisgiantmetalbehemoth.Andtheyallknewitwasnearlyindestructible.
Sorrentoenteredthemechthroughanaccessdoorinoneofitsmassiveheels.Afewsecondslater,thebeast’seyesbegantoglowbrightyellow.
Thenitthrewbackitshead,openeditsjaggedmaw,andletoutapiercingmetallicroar.
Oncue,thetenSixeravatarsstandingbehindSorrentopulledouttheirtoyrobotsandactivatedthem,too.FiveofthemhadthehugeroboticlionsthatcouldformVoltron.TheotherfivehadgiantmechsfromRo-botechandNeonGenesisEvangelion.
“Ohshit,”IheardArt3misandAechwhisperinunison.
“Comeon!”Sorrentoshouteddefiantly.Hischallengeechoedacrossthecrowdedlandscape.
Manyoftheguntersonthefrontlinestookaninvoluntarystepbackward.Afewothersturnedandranfortheirlives.ButAech,Shoto,Art3mis,andIheldourground.
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Icheckedthetimeonmydisplay.Lessthanaminutetogonow.IpressedabuttononLeopardon’scontrolpanel,andmygiantrobotdrewitsgleamingsword.
...
Ididn’twitnessitfirsthand,butIcantellyouwithsomecertaintythatthisiswhathappenednext:
TheSixershaderectedalargearmoredbunkerbehindCastleAnorak,filledwithpalletsofweaponsandbattlegearthathadbeenteleportedinbytheSixersbeforetheyactivatedtheirshield.TherewasalsoalongrackofthirtySupplyDroids,whichhadbeeninstalledalongthebunker’seasternwall.DuetoalackofimaginationonthepartoftheSupplyDroids’
originaldesigner,theyalllookedexactlyliketherobotJohnnyFivefromthe1986filmShortCircuit.TheSixersusedthesedroidsprimarilyasgo-fers,torunerrandsandfillequipmentandammorequisitionsforthetroopsstationedoutside.
Atexactlyoneminutetonoon,oneoftheSupplyDroids,designationSD-03,powereditselfonanddisengagedfromitschargingdock.Thenitrolledforwardonitstanktreads,acrossthebunkerfloor,tothearmorycageatitsoppositeend.Tworoboticsentriesstoodoutsidethearmory’sentrance.SD-03transmitteditsequipmentrequisitionordertothem—anorderthatImyselfhadsubmittedontheSixerintranettwodaysearlier.
Thesentriesverifiedtherequisitionandsteppedaside,permittingSD-03
torollintothecage.Itcontinuedpastlongstorageracksthatheldawidearrayofweaponry:magicswords,shields,poweredarmorsuits,plasmarifles,railguns,andcountlessotherweapons.Finally,thedroidrolledtoastop.Therackinfront
ofitheldfivelargeoctahedron-shapeddevices,eachroughlythesizeofasoccerball.Eachdevicehadasmallcontrolpanelsetintooneofitseightsides,alongwithaserialnumber.SD-03
foundtheserialnumberthatmatchedtheoneonmyrequisitionform.
Then,followingasetofinstructionsI’dprogrammedintoit,thelittledroiduseditsclawlikeindexfingertoenteraseriesofcommandsonthedevice’scontrolpanel.Whenitfinished,asmalllightabovethekeypadturnedfromgreentored.ThenSD-03liftedtheoctahedroninitsarms.
Asitexitedthearmory,oneantimatterfriction-inductionbombwassubtractedfromtheSixers’computerizedinventory.
SD-03thenrolledoutofthebunkerandbegantoclimbaseriesoframpsandstaircasestheSixershadbuiltontothecastle’souterwallstoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd333
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provideaccesstotheupperlevels.Alongtheway,thedroidrolledthroughseveralsecuritycheckpoints.Eachtime,roboticsentriesscanneditssecurityclearanceandfoundthatthedroidwasallowedtogoanywhereitdamnwellpleased.WhenSD-03reachedCastleAnorak’suppermostlevel,itrolledoutontoalargeobservationplatformlocatedthere.
Atthispoint,SD-03mayhavedrawnafewcuriouslooksfromthesquadronofeliteSixeravatarsguardingtheplatform.Ihavenowayofknowing.Buteveniftheguardssomehowanticipatedwhatwasabouttohappenandopenedfireonthelittledroid,itwastoolateforthemtostopitnow.
SD-03continuedrollingdirectlytothecenteroftheroof,whereahigh-levelSixerwizardsatholdingtheOrbofOsuvox—theartifactgeneratingthesphericalshieldaroundthecastle.
Then,executingthelastoftheinstructionsI’dprogrammedintoittwodays
earlier,SD-03liftedtheantimatterfriction-inductionbombupoveritsheadanddetonatedit.
Theexplosionvaporizedthesupplydroid,alongwithalltheavatarsstationedontheplatform,includingtheSixerwizardwhowasoperatingtheOrbofOsuvox.Themomenthedied,theartifactdeactivatedandfelltothenow-emptyplatform.
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Abrilliantflashoflightaccompaniedthedetonation,momentarilyblindingme.Whenitreceded,myeyesfocusedbackonthecastle.
Theshieldwasdown.Now,nothingseparatedthemightySixerandgunterarmiesbutopengroundandemptyspace.
Foraboutfiveseconds,nothinghappened.Timeseemedtostopandeverythingwassilentandstill.Thenallhellbrokeloose.
Sittingaloneinthecockpitofmymech,Iletoutasilentcheer.Incredibly,myplanhadworked.ButIhadnotimetocelebrate,becauseIwasnowstandingsmack-dabinthemiddleofthelargestbattleinthehistoryoftheOASIS.
Idon’tknowwhatIexpectedtohappennext.I’dhopedmaybeatenthofthegunterspresentwouldjoinourassaultontheSixers.Butinsecondsitwasclearthateverysingleoneofthemintendedtojointhefight.Afiercebattlecryrosefromtheseaofavatarsaroundusandtheyallsurgedforward,convergingontheSixerarmyfromeverydirection.Theirtotallackofhesitationastoundedme,becauseitwasobviousmanyofthemwererushingtowardcertaindeath.
Iwatchedinamazementasthetwomightyforcesclashedallaroundme,onthegroundandinthesky.Itwasachaotic,breathtakingscene,likeseveralbeehivesandwaspnestshadbeensmashedtogetherandthendroppedontoagiantanthill.
Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIstoodatthecenterofitall.Atfirst,Ididn’teven
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overmyrobot’sfeet.Sorrento,however,didn’twaitforanyonetogetoutofhisway.Hecrushedseveraldozenavatars(includingafewofhisowntroops)underhismech’stitanicfeetashelumberedtowardus,eachofhisfootfallscreatingasmallcraterintherockysurface.
“Uh-oh,”IheardShotomutterashismechassumedadefensiveposture.“Herehecomes.”
TheSixermechswerealreadytakinganimmenseamountoffirefromalldirections.Sorrentowasgettinghitmorethananyone,becausehismechwasthebiggesttargetonthebattlefield,andnogunterwitharangedweaponcouldseemtoresisttakingashotathim.Theintensebarrageofprojectiles,fireballs,magicmissiles,andlaserboltsquicklydestroyedordisabledtheotherSixermechs(whoneverevengotachancetoformVoltron).ButSorrento’srobotsomehowremainedundamaged.
Everyprojectilethathithimseemedtoricochetharmlesslyoffhismech’sarmoredbody.Dozensofspacecraftswoopedandbuzzedaroundhim,pepperinghismechwithrocketfire,buttheirattacksalsoseemedtohavelittleeffect.
“Itison!”Aechshoutedintohiscomlink.“ItisonlikeRedDawn!”
Andwiththat,heunleashedallofhisGundam’sconsiderablefirepoweratSorrento.Atthesamemoment,ShotobeganfiringRaideen’sbow,whileArt3mis’smechfiredsomesortofredenergybeamthatappearedtoorigi-natefromMinervaX’sgiantmetalbreasts.Notwantingtobeleftout,IfiredLeopardon’sArcTurnweapon,agoldboomerangthatlaunchedfromthemech’sforehead.
Allofourattacksweredirecthits,butArt3mis’sbeamweaponwastheonlyonethatseemedtodoanyrealdamagetoSorrento.Sheblastedachunkoutofthe
metallizard’srightshoulderbladeanddisabledthecannonmountedthere.ButSorrentodidn’tpauseinhisapproach.Ashecontinuedtocloseinonus,theMechagodzilla’seyesbegantoglowabrightblue.ThenSorrentoopeneditsmouth,andacascadingboltofbluelightningshotoutwardfromthemech’sopenmaw.Thebeamstruckthegrounddirectlyinfrontofus,thencutadeepsmokingfurrowintheearthasitcontinuedtosweepforward,vaporizingeveryavatarandshipinitspath.Allfourofusmanagedtoleapoutofthewaybylaunchingourrobotsskyward,thoughInearlytookadirecthit.Thelightningweaponshutdownasecondlater,butSorrentocontinuedtotrudgeforward.Inoticedthathismech’seyeswerenolongerglowingblue.Apparently,hislightningweaponhadtorecharge.
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“Ithinkwe’vereachedthefinalboss,”Aechjokedoverthecomlink.
ThefourofuswerenowspreadoutandcirclingaboveSorrento,makingourselvesmovingtargets.
“Screwthis,guys,”Isaid.“Idon’tthinkwecandestroythatthing.”
“Astuteobservation,Z,”Art3missaid.“Gotanybrightideas?”
Ithoughtforasecond.“HowaboutIdistracthimwhilethethreeofyoucutaroundandheadforthecastleentrance?”
“Soundslikeaplan,”Shotoreplied.Butinsteadofheadingforthecastle,hebankedandflewstraightatSorrento,closingthedistancebetweentheminthespaceofafewseconds.
“Go!”heshoutedintohiscomlink.“Thisbastardisallmine!”
AechcutacrossSorrento’srightflankandArt3misbankedleft,whileIrocketedupwardandoverhim.Belowme,IcouldseeShotofacingoffagainstSorrento,
andthedifferenceinthesizeoftheirmechswasdisturbing.Shoto’srobotlookedlikeanactionfigurenexttoSorrento’smassivemetaldragon.Nevertheless,ShotocuthisthrustersanddroppedtothegrounddirectlyinfrontoftheMechagodzilla.
“Hurry,”IheardAechshout.“Thecastleentranceiswideopen!”
Frommyvantagepointintheskyabove,IcouldseethattheSixerforcessurroundingthecastlewerealreadybeingoverrunbytheendlessmobofenemyavatars.TheSixers’lineswerebroken,andhundredsofgunterswerestreamingpastthemnow,runninguptotheopencastleentranceonlytodiscoveroncetheyreacheditthattheycouldn’tcrossthethresholdbecausetheydidn’tpossessacopyoftheCrystalKey.
Aechswungarounddirectlyinfrontofme.Stillahundredfeetofftheground,hepoppedthehatchofhisGundam’scockpitandleaptout,whisperingtherobot’scommandwordinthesameinstant.Asthegiantrobotshrankbacktoitsoriginalsize,hesnatcheditoutoftheairandstoweditinhisinventory.Nowflyingbysomemagicalmeans,Aech’savatarswoopeddown,passedoverthebottleneckofguntersclusteredatthecastleentrance,anddisappearedthroughtheopendoubledoors.Asecondlater,Art3misexecutedasimilarmaneuver,stowingherownmechinmidairandthenflyingintothecastlerightbehindAech.
IdroppedLeopardonintoasharpdiveandpreparedtofollowthem.
“Shoto,”Ishoutedintomycomm.“We’regoinginsidenow!Let’sgo!”
“Goahead,”Shotoreplied.“I’llberightbehindyou.”Butsomethingaboutthetoneofhisvoicebotheredme,andIpulledoutofmydiveandswungmymechbackaround.ShotowashoveringaboveSorrento,nearClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd337
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hisrightflank.Sorrentoslowlyturnedhismecharoundandbegantostomp
backtowardthecastle.Icouldseenowthathismech’sweaknesswasitslackofspeed.TheMechagodzilla’sslowmovementandattackscounterbalanceditsseeminginvulnerability.
“Shoto!”Ishouted.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?Let’sgo!”
“Goonwithoutme,”Shotosaid.“Iowethissonofabitchsomepayback.”
BeforeIcouldreply,ShotodoveatSorrento,swingingagiantswordineachofhismech’shands.ThebladesbothcutintoSorrento’srightside,creatingashowerofsparks,andtomysurprise,theyactuallydidsomedamage.WhenthesmokeclearedIsawthattheMechagodzilla’srightarmnowhunglimp.Itwasnearlyseveredattheelbow.
“Lookslikeyou’llbewipingwithyourlefthandnow,Sorrento!”Shotoshoutedtriumphantly.ThenhefiredRaideen’sboostersandheadedinmydirection,towardthecastle.ButSorrentohadalreadyswiveledhismech’sheadaroundandwasnowtakingabeadonShotowithtwoglowingblueeyes.
“Shoto!”Ishouted.“Lookout!”Butmyvoicewasdrownedoutbythesoundofthelightningweaponfiringoutofthemetaldragon’smouth.ItnailedShoto’smechdirectlyinthecenterofitsback.Therobotexplodedinanorangeballoffire.
Iheardabriefscreechofstaticonthecommchannel.IcalledoutShoto’snameagain,buthedidn’treply.Thenamessageflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatShoto’snamehadjustdisappearedfromtheScoreboard.
Hewasdead.
Thisrealizationmomentarilystunnedme,whichwasunfortunate,becauseSorrento’slightningweaponwasstillfiring,movinginafastsweepingarc,cuttingacrosstheground,thendiagonallyupthecastlewall,towardme.Ifinallyreacted—toolate—andSorrentonailedmymechinthelowertorso,justasplitsecondbeforethebeamcutoff.
Ilookeddowntodiscoverthatthebottomhalfofmyrobothadjustbeenblastedaway.Everywarningindicatorinmycockpitstartedtoflashasmymechbegantofalloutoftheskyintwosmoking,burninghalves.
Somehow,Ihadthepresenceofmindtoreachupandyanktheejectionhandleabovemyseat.Thecockpitcanopypoppedoff,andIjumpedfreeofthefallingmechasplitsecondbeforeitimpactedonthecastlesteps,killingseveraldozenoftheavatarscrowdedthere.
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Ifiredmyavatar’sjetbootsjustbeforeIhittheground,thenquicklyadjustedmyimmersionrig’scontrolsetup,becauseIwasnowcontrollingmyavatarinsteadofagiantrobot.Imanagedtolandonmyfeetinfrontofthecastle,justclearofLeopardon’sflamingwreckage.AsecondafterIlanded,ashadowspilledoverme,andIturnedaroundtoseeSorrento’smechblottingoutthesky.Heraiseditsmassiveleftfoot,preparingtocrushme.
Itookthreerunningstepsandjumped,firingmyjetbootsinmidleap.
ThethrustthrewmeclearjustastheMechagodzilla’shugeclawedfootslammeddown,formingacraterinthespotwhereI’dstoodasecondbefore.Themetalbeastletoutanotherearsplittingshriek,followedbyhollow,boominglaughter.Sorrento’slaughter.
Icutmyjet-bootthrustersandtuckedmyavatarintoaball.Ihitthegroundrolling,tumbledforward,thencameuponmyfeet.Isquintedupatthemetallizard’shead.Itseyesweren’tglowingagain—notyet.IcouldfiremyjetbootsagainnowandmakeitinsidethecastlebeforeSorrentocouldfireonmeagain.Hewouldn’tbeabletofollowmeinside—notwithoutgettingoutofhisoversizemech.
IcouldhearArt3misandAechshoutingatmeonmycomlink.Theywerealreadyinside,standinginfrontofthegate,waitingforme.
AllIhadtodowasflyintothecastleandjointhem.ThethreeofuscouldopenandenterthegatebeforeSorrentocaughtupwithus.Iwassureofit.
ButIdidn’tmove.Instead,ItookouttheBetaCapsuleandheldthesmallmetalcylinderinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.
Sorrentohadtriedtokillme.Andintheprocess,he’dmurderedmyaunt,alongwithseveralofmyneighbors,includingsweetoldMrs.Gilmore,whohadneverhurtasoul.He’dalsohadDaitokilled,andeventhoughI’dnevermethim,Daitohadbeenmyfriend.
AndnowSorrentohadjustkilledShoto’savatar,robbinghimofhischancetoentertheThirdGate.Sorrentodidn’tdeservehispowerorhisposition.Whathedeserved,Idecidedinthatmoment,waspublichumili-ationanddefeat.Hedeservedtohavehisasskickedwhilethewholeworldwatched.
IheldtheBetaCapsulehighovermyheadandpresseditsactivationbutton.
Therewasablindingflashoflight,andtheskyturnedcrimsonasmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd339
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avatarchanged,growingandmorphingintoagiganticred-and-silver-skinnedhumanoidalienwithglowingegg-shapedeyes,astrangefinnedhead,andaglowinglightembeddedinthecenterofmychest.Forthenextthreeminutes,IwasUltraman.
TheMechagodzillastoppedshriekingandthrashing.Itsgazehadbeenpointeddownattheground,wheremyavatarhadstoodasecondearlier.
Nowitsheadslowlytiltedup,takinginthesizeofitsnewopponent,untilourglowingeyesfinallymet.Inowstoodface-to-facewithSorrento’smech,matchingitsheightandsizealmostexactly.
Sorrento’smechtookseveralawkwardstepsbackward.Itseyesbegantoglowagain.
Icrouchedslightlyandstruckanoffensivepose,noticingthatatimernow
appearedinthecornerofmydisplay,countingdownfromthreeminutes.
2:59.2:58.2:57.
BelowthetimertherewasamenulistingUltraman’svariousenergyattacksinJapanese.Iquicklyselectedspeciumrayandthenheldmyarmsupinfrontofme,onehorizontalandtheothervertical,formingacross.
Apulsingbeamofwhiteenergyshotoutofmyforearms,strikingtheMechagodzillainitschestandknockingitbackward.Thrownoffbalance,Sorrentolostcontrolandtrippedoverhisownmammothfeet.Hismechtumbledtotheground,landingonitsside.
Acheerwentupfromthethousandsofavatarswatchingfromthechaoticbattlefieldaroundus.
Ilaunchedmyselfintotheairandflewhalfakilometerstraightupward.ThenIdroppedbackdown,feetfirst,aimingmyheelsdirectlyattheMechagodzilla’scurvedspine.Whenmyfeethit,Iheardsomethinginsidethemetalbeastsnapundermycrushingweight.Smokebegantopouroutofitsmouth,andtheblueglowinitseyesquicklydissipated.
Iexecutedabackflipandlandedbehindthesupinemechinacrouch.
Itssinglefunctioningarmflailedwildlywhileitstailandlegsthrashedabout.Sorrentoappearedtobestrugglingwiththecontrolsinanefforttogetthebeastbackonitsfeet.
Iselectedyatsuakikohrinfrommyweaponmenu:Ultra-Slice.Aglowingcircularsawbladeofelectric-blueenergyappearedinmyrighthand,spinningfiercely.IhurleditatSorrento,releasingitwithasnapofmywrist,likeaFrisbee.ItwhirredthroughtheairandstrucktheMecha-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd340
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godzillainitsstomach.Theenergybladecutintoitsmetalskinasifitweretofu,slicingthemechintotwohalves.Justbeforetheentiremachineexploded,theheaddetachedandblastedawayfromtheneck.Sorrentohadejected.Butsincethemechwaslyingflat,theheadshotoutonatrajectoryparalleltotheground.Sorrentoquicklyadjustedforthis,andtherocketssproutingfromtheheadbegantotiltitskyward.Beforeitcouldgetveryfar,Icrossedmyarmsagainandfiredanotherspeciumray,nail-ingtheretreatingheadlikeaclaypigeon.Itdisintegratedinanimmenselysatisfyingexplosion.
Thecrowdwentwild.
IcheckedtheScoreboardandconfirmedthatSorrento’semployeenumberhadvanished.Hisavatarwasdead.Icouldn’ttaketoomuchsatisfactionfromthis,though,becauseIknewhewasprobablyalreadykickingoneofhisunderlingsoutofahapticchairsohecouldtakecontrolofanewavatar.
ThecounteronmydisplayhadonlyfifteensecondsremainingwhenIdeactivatedtheBetaCapsule.Myavatarinstantlyshrankbacktonormalsize,andmyappearancereturnedtonormal.ThenIspunaround,poweredonmyjetboots,andflewintothecastle.
WhenIreachedtheoppositeendofthehugefoyer,IfoundAechandArt3misstandinginfrontofthecrystaldoor,waitingforme.Thesmoking,bloodiedbodiesofoveradozenrecentlyslainSixeravatarslayscatteredonthestoneflooraroundthem,slowlyfadingoutofexistence.Apparently,therehadbeenabriefanddecisiveskirmishandI’djustmissedit.
“Nofair,”Isaid,cuttingmyjetbootsanddroppingtothefloorbesideAech.“Youcouldhavesavedatleastoneofthemforme.”
Art3misdidn’treply.Shejustgavemethefinger.
“CongratsonwastingSorrento,”Aechsaid.“Itwasanepicthrowdown,forsure.Butyou’restillacompleteidiot.Youknowthat,right?
“Yeah.”Ishrugged.“Iknow.”
“You’resuchaselfishasshole!”Art3misshouted.“Whatifyou’dgottenyourselfkilledtoo?”
“Ididn’t,though.DidI?”Isaid,steppingaroundhertoexaminethecrystaldoor.“Sochilloutandlet’sopenthisthing.”
Iexaminedthekeyholeinthecenterofthedoor,thenlookedatthewordsprinteddirectlyaboveit,etchedintothedoor’sfacetedsurface.
Charity.Hope.Faith.
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ItookoutmycopyoftheCrystalKeyandhelditup.AechandArt3misfollowedsuitandhelduptheirkeystoo.
Nothinghappened.
Weallexchangedconcernedlooks.Thenanideaoccurredtome,andIclearedmythroat.“‘Threeisamagicnumber,’”Isaid,recitingthefirstlineoftheSchoolhouseRock!song.AssoonasIspokethewords,thecrystaldoorbegantoglow,andtwoadditionalkeyholesappeared,oneithersideofthefirst.
“Thatdidit!”Aechwhispered.“Holyshit.Ican’tbelievethis.We’rereallyhere.StandinginfrontoftheThirdGate.”
Art3misnodded.“Finally.”
Iinsertedmykeyinthecenterkeyhole.Aechinsertedhisintothekeyholeontheleft,andArt3misplacedhersinthekeyholeontheright.
“Clockwise?”Art3missaid.“Onthecountofthree?”
AechandInodded.Art3miscountedtothree,andweturnedourkeysinunison.Therewasabriefflashofbluelight,duringwhichallofourkeysandthecrystaldooritselfvanished.AndthentheThirdGatestoodopeninfrontofus,acrystaldoorwayleadingintoaspinningwhirlpoolofstars.
“Wow,”IheardArt3miswhisperbesideme.“Herewego.”
Asthethreeofussteppedforward,preparingtoenterthegate,Iheardanearsplittingboom.Itsoundedliketheentireuniversewascrackinginhalf.
Andthenwealldied.
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Whenyouravatargetskilled,yourscreendoesn’tfadetoblackrightaway.Instead,yourpointofviewautomaticallyshiftstoathird-personperspective,treatingyoutoabriefout-of-bodyreplayofyouravatar’sfinalfate.
Asplitsecondafterweheardthethunderousboom,myperspectiveshifted,andIfoundmyselflookingatourthreeavatars,standingtherefrozeninfrontoftheopengate.Thenanincineratingwhitelightfilledtheworld,accompaniedbyanearsplittingwallofsound.ItwaswhatI’dalwayspicturedbeingfriedinanuclearblastwouldbelike.
Forabriefmoment,Isawouravatars’skeletonssuspendedinsidethetransparentoutlinesofourmotionlessbodies.Thenmyavatar’shit-pointcounterdroppedtozero.
Theblastwavearrivedasecondlater,disintegratingeverythinginitspath—ouravatars,thefloor,thewalls,thecastleitself,andthethousandsofavatarsgatheredaroundit.Everythingwasturnedtoafine,atomizeddustthathungsuspendedintheairforasecondbeforeslowlysettlingtoearth.
Theentiresurfaceoftheplanethadbeenwipedclean.TheareaaroundCastleAnorak,whichhadbeencrowdedwithwarringavatarsasplitsecondbefore,wasnowadesolateandbarrenwasteland.Everyoneandeverythinghadbeendestroyed.OnlytheThirdGateremained,acrystaldoorwayfloatingintheairabovethecraterwherethecastlehadstoodamomentbefore.
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MyinitialshockquicklyturnedtodreadasIrealizedwhathadjusthappened.
TheSixershaddetonatedtheCataclyst.
Itwastheonlyexplanation.Onlythatincrediblypowerfulartifactcouldhavedonethis.Notonlyhaditkilledeveryavatarinthesector,ithadevendestroyedCastleAnorak,afortressthat,untilnow,hadprovenitselftobeindestructible.
Istaredattheopengate,floatingintheemptyair,andwaitedfortheinevitable,finalmessagetoappearinthecenterofmydisplay,thewordsIkneweveryotheravatarinthesectormustbeseeingatthisverymoment:gameover.
Butwhenwordsfinallydidappearonmydisplay,itwasanothermessageentirely:congratulations!youhaveanextralife!
Then,asIwatchedinamazement,myavatarreappeared,fadingbackintoexistenceintheexactsamelocationwhereI’ddiedafewsecondsearlier.Iwasstandinginfrontoftheopengateagain.Butthegatewasnowfloatinginmidair,suspendedseveraldozenmetersabovetheplanet’ssurface,overthecraterthathadbeencreatedbythedestructionofthecastle.
Asmyavatarfinishedmaterializing,IlookeddownandrealizedthatthefloorI’dbeenstandingonearlierwasnowgone.Soweremyjetboots,andeverythingelseI’dbeencarrying.
Iseemedtohoverinmidairforamoment,likeWileE.CoyoteintheoldRoadrunnercartoons.ThenIplummetedstraightdown.Imadeadesperategrabfortheopengateinfrontofme,butitwaswelloutofreach.
Ihitthegroundhardandlostathirdofmyhitpointsfromtheimpact.
ThenIslowlygottomyfeetandlookedaround.Iwasstandinginavastcube-
shapedcrater—thespacewherethefoundationandlowerbasementlevelsofCastleAnorakhadstood.Itwascompletelybarrenandeerilysilent.Therewasnorubblefromthedestroyedcastle,andnowreckagefromthethousandsofspaceshipsandaircraftthathadfilledtheskyafewmomentsago.Infact,therewasnosignatallofthegrandbattlethathadjustbeenfoughthere.TheCataclysthadvaporizedeverything.
IlookeddownatmyavatarandsawthatIwasnowwearingablackT-shirtandbluejeans,thedefaultoutfitthatappearedoneverynewlycreatedavatar.ThenIpulledupmystatsanditeminventory.MyavatarhadthesamelevelandabilityscoresI’dhadpreviously,butmyinventorywascompletelyemptyexceptforoneitem—thequarterI’dobtainedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd344
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afterplayingmyperfectgameofPac-ManonArchaide.OnceI’dplacedthequarterinmyinventory,Ihadn’tbeenabletoremoveit,soI’dneverbeenabletohaveanydivinationoridentificationspellscastonit.I’dhadnowayofascertainingthequarter’struepurposeorpowers.Duringthetumultuouseventsofthepastfewmonths,I’dforgottenIevenhadthedamnthing.
ButnowIknewwhatthequarterwas—asingle-useartifactthatgavemyavataranextralife.Untilthatmoment,Ihadn’tevenknownsuchathingwaspossible.InthehistoryoftheOASIS,therewasnorecordofanyavatareveracquiringanextralife.
Iselectedthequarterinmyinventoryandtriedagaintoremoveit.Thistime,Iwasabletotakeitoutandholditinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.
Nowthattheartifact’ssolepowerhadbeenused,itnolongerpossessedanymagicalproperties.Nowitwasjustaquarter.
Ilookedstraightupatthecrystalgatefloatingtwentymetersaboveme.
Itwasstillsittingthere,wideopen.ButIhadnoideahowIwasgoingtogetuptheretoenterit.Ihadnojetboots,noship,andnomagicitemsormemorized
spells.Nothingthatwouldallowmetoflyorlevitate.Andtherewasn’tasinglestepladderinsight.
ThereIwas,standingastone’sthrowfromtheThirdGate,butunabletoreachit.
“Hey,Z?”Iheardavoicesay.“Canyouhearme?”
ItwasAech,buthervoicewasnolongeralteredtosoundmale.Icouldhearherperfectly,asifsheweretalkingtomeviacomlink.Butthatdidn’tmakesense,becausemyavatarnolongerhadacomlink.AndAech’savatarwasdead.
“Whereareyou?”Iaskedtheemptyair.
“I’mdead,likeeveryoneelse,”Aechsaid.“Everyonebutyou.”
“ThenhowcanIhearyou?”
“Ogpatchedallofusintoyouraudioandvideofeeds,”shesaid.“Sowecanseewhatyouseeandhearwhatyouhear.”
“Oh,”Isaid.
“Isthatallrightwithyou,Parzival?”IheardOgask.“Ifitisn’t,justsayso.”
Ithoughtaboutitforamoment.“No,it’sfinewithme,”Isaid.“ShotoandArt3misarelisteningintoo?”
“Yes,”Shotosaid.“I’mhere.”
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“Yeah,we’rehere,allright,”Art3missaid,andIcouldhearthebarelycontainedrageinhervoice.“Andwe’realldeadasdoornails.Thequestionis,whyaren’tyoudeadtoo,Parzival?”
“Yeah,Z,”Aechsaid.“Weareabitcuriousaboutthat.Whathappened?”
Itookoutthequarterandhelditupinfrontofmyeyes.“IwasawardedthisquarteronArchaideafewmonthsago,forplayingaperfectgameofPac-Man.Itwasanartifact,butIneverknewitspurpose.Notuntilnow.
Turnsoutitgavemeanextralife.”
Iheardonlysilenceforamoment;thenAechbegantolaugh.“Youluckysonofabitch!”shesaid.“Thenewsfeedsarereportingthateverysingleavatarinthesectorwasjustkilled.OverhalfthepopulationoftheOASIS.”
“WasittheCataclyst?”Iasked.
“Ithadtobe,”Art3missaid.“TheSixersmusthaveboughtitwhenitwentupforauctionafewyearsago.Andthey’vebeensittingonitallthistime,waitingfortheperfectmomenttodetonateit.”
“Buttheyjustkilledoffalloftheirowntroops,too,”Shotosaid.“Whywouldtheydothat?”
“Ithinkmostofthemwerealreadydead,”Art3missaid.
“TheSixershadnochoice,”Isaid.“Itwastheonlywaytheycouldstopus.We’dalreadyopenedtheThirdGateandwereabouttostepinsidewhentheydetonatedthatthing—”Ipaused,realizingsomething.“Howdidtheyknowwe’dopenedit?Unless—”
“Theywerewatchingus,”Aechsaid.“TheSixersprobablyhadremotesurveillancecamerashiddenallaroundthegate.”
“Sotheysawusopenit,”Art3missaid.“Whichmeanstheyknowhowtoopenitnowtoo.”
“Whocares?”Shotointerjected.“Sorrento’savatarisdead.AndsoarealloftheotherSixers.”
“Wrong,”Art3missaid.“ChecktheScoreboard.TherearestilltwentySixeravatarslistedthere,belowParzival.AndtheirscoresindicatethateverysingleoneofthemhasacopyoftheCrystalKey.”
“Shit!”AechandShotosaidinunison.
“TheSixersknewtheymighthavetodetonatetheCataclyst,”Isaid.
“SotheymusthavetakentheprecautionofmovingsomeoftheiravatarsoutsideofSectorTen.Theywereprobablywaitinginagunshipjustacrossthesectorborder,whereitwassafe.”
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“You’reright,”Aechsaid.“WhichmeanstherearetwentymoreSixersheadedyourwayrightnow,Z.Soyouneedtogetyourassmovingandgetinsidethatgate.Thisisprobablygoingtobeyouronlychancetoclearit.”
Iheardherletoutadefeatedsigh.“It’soverforus.Sowe’reallrootingforyounow,amigo.Goodluck.”
“Thanks,Aech.”
“Gokouunoinorimasu,”Shotosaid.“Doyourbest.”
“Iwill,”Isaid.ThenIwaitedforArt3mistogivemeherblessingtoo.
“Goodluck,Parzival,”shesaidafteralongpause.“Aechisright,youknow.You’renevergoingtogetanothershotatthis.Andneitherwillanyothergunter.”Iheardhervoicecatch,asifshewerechokingbacktears.
Thenshetookadeepbreathandsaid,“Don’tscrewthisup.”
“Iwon’t,”Isaid.“Nopressure,right?”
Iglancedbackupattheopengate,suspendedintheairaboveme,sofaroutofreach.ThenIdroppedmygazeandbegantoscanthearea,desperatelytryingtofigureouthowIwasgoingtogetupthere.Somethingcaughtmyeye—justafewflickeringpixelsinthedistance,neartheoppositeendofthecrater.Iran
towardthem.
“Uh,nottobeabackseatdriveroranything,”Aechsaid.“Butwherethehellareyougoing?”
“Allofmyavatar’sitemsweredestroyedbytheCataclyst,”Isaid.“SonowIhavenowaytoflyupthereandreachthegate.”
“You’vegottobekiddingme!”Aechsighed.“Man,thehitsjustkeeponcoming!”
AsIapproachedtheobjectinthedistance,itbecamegraduallyclearer.
ItwastheBetaCapsule,floatingjustafewcentimetersabovetheground,spinningclockwise.TheCataclysthaddestroyedeverythinginthesectorthatcouldbedestroyed,butartifactswereindestructible.Justlikethegate.
“It’stheBetaCapsule!”Shotoshouted.“Itmusthavebeenthrownoverherebytheforceoftheblast.YoucanuseittobecomeUltramanandflyuptothegate!”
Inodded,raisedthecapsuleovermyhead,thenpressedthebuttononthesidetoactivateit.Butnothinghappened.“Shit!”Imuttered,realizingwhy.“Itwon’twork.Itcanonlybeusedonceaday.”IstowedtheBetaCapsuleandstartedtoscanthegroundaroundme.“Theremustbeotherartifactsscatteredaroundhere,”Isaid.Ibegantorunalongtheperimeterofthecastlefoundation,stillscanningtheground.“WereanyofyouguysClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd347
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carryingartifacts?Onethatwouldgivemetheabilitytofly?Orlevitate?
Orteleport?”
“No,”answeredShoto.“Ididn’thaveanyartifacts.”
“MySwordoftheBa’Heerwasanartifact,”Aechsaid.“Butitwon’thelpyoureachthegate.”
“ButmyChuckswill,”Art3missaid.
“Your‘Chucks’?”Irepeated.
“Myshoes.BlackChuckTaylorAllStars.Theybestowtheirwearerwithbothspeedandflight.”
“Great!Perfect!”Isaid.“NowIjusthavetofindthem.”Icontinuedtorunforward,eyessweepingtheground.IfoundAech’sswordaminutelaterandaddedittomyinventory,butittookmeanotherfiveminutesofsearchingbeforeIfoundArt3mis’smagicsneakers,nearthesouthendofthecrater.Iputthemon,andtheyadjustedtofitmyavatar’sfeetperfectly.
“I’llgetthesebacktoyou,Arty,”Isaid,justasIfinishedlacingthemup.
“Promise.”
“Youbetter,”shesaid.“Theyweremyfavorites.”
Itookthreerunningsteps,leaptintotheair,andthenIwasflying.
Iswoopedupandaround,thenturnedbacktowardthegate,aimingstraightforit.Butatthelastmoment,Ibankedtotheright,thenarcedbackaround.Istoppedtohoverinfrontoftheopengate.Thecrystaldoorwayhungintheairdirectlyahead,justafewyardsaway.ItremindedmeofthefloatingdoorintheopeningcreditsoftheoriginalTwilightZone.
“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”Aechshouted.“TheSixerscouldshowupanyminutenow!”
“Iknow,”Isaid.“Butthere’ssomethingIneedtosaytoallofyoubeforeIgoin.”
“Well?”Art3missaid.“Spititout!Theclockisticking,fool!”
“OK,OK!”Isaid.“IjustwantedtosaythatIknowhowthethreeofyoumustfeelrightnow.Itisn’tfair,thewaythishasplayedout.Weshouldallbeentering
thegatetogether.SobeforeIgoin,Iwantyouguystoknowsomething.IfIreachtheegg,I’mgoingtosplittheprizemoneyequallyamongthefourofus.”
Stunnedsilence.
“Hello?”Isaidafterafewseconds.“Didyouguyshearme?”
“Areyouinsane?”Aechasked.“Whywouldyoudothat,Z?”
“Becauseit’stheonlyhonorablethingtodo,”Isaid.“BecauseIneverClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd348
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wouldhavegottenthisfaronmyown.Becauseallfourofusdeservetoseewhat’sinsidethatgateandfindouthowthegameends.AndbecauseIneedyourhelp.”
“Couldyourepeatthatlastbit,please?”Art3misasked.
“Ineedyourhelp,”Isaid.“Youguysareright.ThisismyonlyshotatclearingtheThirdGate.Therewon’tbeanysecondchances,foranyone.
TheSixerswillbeheresoon,andthey’llenterthegateassoonastheyarrive.SoIhavetoclearitbeforetheydo,onmyfirstattempt.Theoddsofmepullingthatoffwillincreasedrasticallyifthethreeofyouarebackingmeup.So...whatdoyousay?”
“Countmein,Z,”Aechsaid.“Iwasplanningtocoachyourdumbassanyway.”
“Countmeintoo,”saidShoto.“I’vegotnothinglefttolose.”
“Letmegetthisstraight,”Art3missaid.“Wehelpyouclearthegate,andinreturn,youagreetosplittheprizemoneywithus?”
“Wrong,”Isaid.“IfIwin,I’mgoingtosplittheprizemoneywithyouguys,regardlessofwhetheryouhelpmeornot.Sohelpingmeisprobablyinyourbest
interest.”
“Idon’tsupposewehavetimetogetthatinwriting?”Art3missaid.
Ithoughtforamoment,thenaccessedmyPOVchannel’scontrolmenu.Iinitiatedalivebroadcast,soeveryonewatchingmychannel(myratingscountersaidIcurrentlyhadmorethantwohundredmillionviewers)couldhearwhatIwasabouttosay.“Greetings,”Isaid.“ThisisWadeWatts,alsoknownasParzival.IwanttoletthewholeworldknowthatifandwhenIfindHalliday’sEasteregg,IherebyvowtosplitmywinningsequallywithArt3mis,Aech,andShoto.Crossmyheartandhopetodie.
Gunter’shonor.Pinkyswear.Allofthatcrap.IfI’mlying,IshouldbeforeverbrandedasagutlessSixer-fellatingpunk.”
AsIfinishedthebroadcast,IheardArt3missay,“Dude,areyounuts?
Iwaskidding!”
“Oh,”Isaid.“Right.Iknewthat.”
Icrackedmyknuckles,thenflewforwardintothegate,andmyavatarvanishedintothewhirlpoolofstars.
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Ifoundmyselfstandinginavast,dark,emptyspace.Icouldn’tseethewallsorceiling,butthereappearedtobeafloor,becauseIwasstandingonsomething.Iwaitedafewseconds,unsureofwhattodo.
Thenaboomingelectronicvoiceechoedthroughthevoid.Itsoundedasifitwerebeinggeneratedbyaprimitivespeechsynthesizer,likethoseusedinQ*BertandGorf.“Beatthehighscoreorbedestroyed!”thevoiceannounced.Ashaftoflightappeared,shiningdownfromsomewherehighabove.There,in
frontofme,atthebaseofthislongpillaroflight,stoodanoldcoin-operatedarcadegame.Irecognizeditsdistinctive,angularcabinetimmediately.Tempest.Atari.1980.
Iclosedmyeyesanddroppedmyhead.“Crap,”Imuttered.“Thisisnotmybestgame,gang.”
“Comeon,”IheardArt3miswhisper.“YouhadtoknowTempestwasgoingtofactorintotheThirdGatesomehow.Itwassoobvious!”
“Ohreally?”Isaid.“Why?”
“BecauseofthequoteonthelastpageoftheAlmanac,”shereplied.“‘Imustuneasymake,lesttoolightwinningmaketheprizelight.’”
“Iknowthequote,”Isaid,annoyed.“It’sfromShakespeare.ButIfigureditwasjustHalliday’swayoflettingusknowhowdifficulthewasgoingtomaketheHunt.”
“Itwas,”Art3missaid.“Butitwasalsoaclue.ThatquotewastakenfromShakespeare’sfinalplay,TheTempest.”
“Shit!”Ihissed.“HowthehelldidImissthat?”
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“Inevermadethatconnectioneither,”Aechconfessed.“Bravo,Art3mis.”
“ThegameTempestalsoappearsbrieflyinthemusicvideoforthesong
‘Subdivisions’byRush,”sheadded.“OneofHalliday’sfavorites.Prettyhardtomiss.”
“Whoa,”Shotosaid.“She’sgood.”
“OK!”Ishouted.“Itshouldhavebeenobvious.Noneedtorubitin!”
“Itakeityou’vehaven’thadmuchpracticeatthisgame,Z?”Aechsaid.
“Alittle,alongtimeago,”Isaid.“Butnotnearlyenough.Lookatthehighscore.”Ipointedatthemonitor.Thehighscorewas728,329.TheinitialsnexttoitwereJDH—JamesDonovanHalliday.And,asIfeared,thecreditcounteratthebottomofthescreenhadanumeraloneinfrontofit.
“Yikes,”Aechsaid.“Onlyonecredit.JustlikeBlackTiger.”
Irememberedthenow-uselessextralifequarterinmyinventoryandtookitout.ButwhenIdroppeditintothecoinslot,itfellrightthroughintothecoinreturn.Ireacheddowntoremoveitandsawastickeronthecoinmechanism:tokensonly.
“Somuchforthatidea,”Isaid.“AndIdon’tseeatokenmachineanywherearoundhere.”
“Lookslikeyouonlygetonegame,”Aechsaid.“Allornothing.”
“Guys,Ihaven’tplayedTempestinyears,”Isaid.“I’mscrewed.There’snowayI’mgoingtobeatHalliday’shighscoreonmyfirstattempt.”
“Youdon’thaveto,”Art3missaid.“Lookatthecopyrightyear.”
Iglancedatthebottomofthescreen:©mcmlxxxatari.
“Nineteeneighty?”Aechsaid.“Howdoesthathelphim?”
“Yeah,”Isaid.“Howdoesthathelpme?”
“ThatmeansthisistheveryfirstversionofTempest,”Art3missaid.
“Theversionthatshippedwithabuginthegamecode.WhenTempestfirsthitthearcades,kidsdiscoveredthatifyoudiedwithacertainscore,themachinewouldgiveyouabunchoffreecredits.”
“Oh,”Isaid,somewhatashamed.“Ididn’tknowthat.”
“Youwould,”Art3missaid,“ifyou’dresearchedthegameasmuchasIdid.”
“Damn,girl,”Aechsaid.“You’vegotsomeseriousknowledge.”
“Thanks,”shesaid.“Ithelpstobeanobsessive-compulsivegeek.Withnolife.”Everyonelaughedatthat,exceptme.Iwasmuchtoonervous.
“OK,Arty,”Isaid.“WhatdoIneedtodotogetthosefreegames?”
“I’mlookingitupinmyquestjournalrightnow,”shesaid.IcouldhearClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd351
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paperrustling.Itsoundedlikeshewasflippingthroughthepagesofanactualbook.
“Youjusthappentohaveahardcopyofyourjournalwithyou?”Iasked.
“I’vealwayskeptmyjournallonghand,inspiralnotebooks,”shesaid.
“Goodthing,too,sincemyOASISaccountandeverythinginitwasjusterased.”Moreflippingofpages.“Hereitis!First,youneedtorackupoveronehundredeightythousandpoints.Onceyou’vedonethat,makesureyouendthegamewithascorewherethelasttwodigitsareohsix,eleven,ortwelve.Ifyoudothat,you’llgetfortyfreecredits.”
“You’reabsolutelypositive?”
“Positivelyabsolutely.”
“OK,”Isaid.“Heregoes.”
Ibegantorunthroughmypregameritual.Stretching,crackingmyknuckles,rollingmyheadandneckleftandright.
“Christ,willyougetonwithit?”Aechsaid.“Thesuspenseiskillingmehere!”
“Quiet!”Shotosaid.“Givethemansomeroomtobreathe,willyou?”
EveryoneremainedsilentwhileIfinishedpsychingmyselfup.“Heregoesnothing,”Isaid.ThenIhittheflashingPlayerOnebutton.
Tempestusedold-schoolvectorgraphics,sothegame’simageswerecreatedfromglowingneonlinesdrawnagainstapitch-blackscreen.
You’regivenatop-downviewofathree-dimensionaltunnel,andyouuseaspinningrotarydialtocontrola“shooter”thattravelsaroundtherimofthetunnel.Theobjectofthegameistoshoottheenemiescrawlingupoutofthetunneltowardyouwhiledodgingtheirfireandavoidingotherobstacles.Asyouproceedfromoneleveltothenext,thetunnelstakeongraduallymorecomplexgeometricshapes,andthenumberofenemiesandobstaclescrawlinguptowardyoumultipliesdrastically.
HallidayhadputthisTempestmachineonTournamentsettings,soIcouldn’tstartthegameanyhigherthanlevelnine.Ittookmeaboutfifteenminutestogetmyscoreupabove180,000,andIlosttwolivesintheprocess.IwasevenrustierthanIthought.Whenmyscorehit189,412,Iintentionallyimpaledmyshooteronaspike,usingupmylastremaininglife.Thegamepromptedmetoentermyinitials,andInervouslytappedthemin:W-O-W.
WhenIfinished,thegame’screditcounterjumpedfromzerouptoforty.
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Thesoundofmyfriends’wildcheersfilledmyears,nearlygivingmeaheartattack.“Art3mis,you’reagenius,”Isaid,oncethenoisedieddown.
“Iknow.”
ItappedthePlayerOnebuttonagainandbeganasecondgame,nowfocusedonbeatingHalliday’shighscore.Istillfeltanxious,butconsiderablylessso.IfIdidn’tmanagetogetthehighscorethistime,Ihadthirty-ninemorechances.
Duringabreakbetweenwaves,Art3misspokeup.“So,yourinitialsareW-O-W?WhatdoestheOstandfor?”
“Obtuse,”Isaid.
Shelaughed.“No,seriously.”
“Owen.”
“Owen,”sherepeated.“WadeOwenWatts.That’snice.”Thenshefellsilentagainasthenextwavebegan.Ifinishedmysecondgameafewminuteslater,withascoreof219,584.Nothorrible,butafarcryfrommygoal.
“Notbad,”Aechsaid.
“Yeah,butnotthatgood,either,”Shotoobserved.ThenheseemedtorememberthatIcouldhearhim.“Imean—muchbetter,Parzival.You’redoinggreat.”
“Thanksforthevoteofconfidence,Shoto.”
“Hey,checkthisout,”Art3missaid,readingfromherjournal.“ThecreatorofTempest,DaveTheurer,originallygottheideaforthegamefromanightmarehehadaboutmonsterscrawlingupoutofaholeinthegroundandchasingafterhim.”Shelaughedherlittlemusicallaugh,whichIhadn’theardinsolong.“Isn’tthatcool,Z?”shesaid.
“Thatiscool,”Ireplied.Somehow,justhearinghervoicesetmeatease.
Ithinksheknewthis,andthatwaswhyshekepttalkingtome.Ifeltre-energized.IhitthePlayerOnebuttonagainandbeganmythirdgame.
Theyallwatchedmeplayincompletesilence.Nearlyanhourlater,Ilostmylastman.Myfinalscorewas437,977.
Assoonasthegameended,Aech’svoicecutin.“Badnews,amigo,”shesaid.
“What?”
“Wewereright.WhentheCataclystwentoff,theSixershadagroupofavatarsinreserve,waitingjustoutsidethesector.Rightafterthedetonation,they
reenteredthesectorandheadedstraightforChthonia.They...”
Hervoicetrailedoff.
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“Theywhat?”
“Theyjustenteredthegate,aboutfiveminutesago,”Art3misanswered.
“Thegateclosedafteryouwentin,butwhentheSixersarrived,theyusedthreeoftheirownkeystoreopenit.”
“YoumeantheSixersarealreadyinsidethegate?Rightnow?”
“Eighteenofthem,”Aechsaid.“Whentheysteppedthroughthegate,eachoneenteredastand-alonesimulation.Aseparateinstanceofthegate.
AlleighteenofthemareplayingTempestrightnow,justlikeyou.TryingtobeatHalliday’shighscore.Andallofthemusedtheexploittogetfortyfreecredits.Mostofthemaren’tdoingthatwell,butoneofthemhassomeseriousskill.WethinkSorrentoisprobablyoperatingthatavatar.Hejuststartedhissecondgame—”
“Waitasecond!”Iinterrupted.“Howcanyoupossiblyknowallthis?”
“Becausewecanseethem,”Shotosaid.“EveryoneloggedintotheOASISrightnowcanseethem.Theycanseeyou,too.”
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”
“ThemomentsomeoneenterstheThirdGate,alivevidfeedoftheiravatarappearsatthetopoftheScoreboard,”Art3missaid.“Apparently,Hallidaywantedclearingthefinalgatetobeaspectatorsport.”
“Wait,”Isaid.“YoumeantotellmethattheentireworldhasbeenwatchingmeplayTempestforthepasthour?”
“Correct,”Art3missaid.“Andthey’rewatchingyoustandthereandjabberbackatusrightnowtoo.Sowatchwhatyousay.”
“Whydidn’tyouguystellme?”Ishouted.
“Wedidn’twanttomakeyounervous,”Aechsaid.“Ordistractyou.”
“Oh,great!Perfect!Thankyou!”Iwasshouting,somewhathysterically.
“Calmdown,Parzival,”Art3missaid.“Getyourheadbackinthegame.
Thisaracenow.ThereareeighteenSixeravatarsrightbehindyou.Soyouneedtomakethisnextgamecount.Understand?”
“Yeah,”Isaid,exhalingslowly.“Iunderstand.”ItookanotherdeepbreathandpressedthePlayerOnebuttononceagain.
Asusual,competitionbroughtoutthebestinme.Thistime,Imanagedtoslipintothezone.Spinner,zapper,super-zapper,clearalevel,avoidthespikes.Myhandsbegantoworkthecontrolswithoutmyevenhavingtothinkaboutit.Iforgotaboutwhatwasatstake,andIforgotaboutthemillionsofpeoplewatchingme.Ilostmyselfinthegame.
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Iheardanotherwildburstofcheeringinmyears.“Youdidit,man!”IheardShotoshout.
Myeyesdarteduptothetopofthescreen.Myscorewas802,488.
Ikeptplaying,instinctivelywantingtogetthehighestscorepossible.
ButthenIheardArt3misloudlyclearherthroat,andIrealizedtherewasnoneedtogoanyfurther.Infact,Iwasnowwastingvaluableseconds,burningawaywhateverleadIstillhadontheSixers.Iquicklydepletedmytwoextralives,andgameoverflashedonthescreen.Ienteredmyinitialsagain,andtheyappearedatthetopofthelist,justaboveHalliday’shighscore.Thenthemonitorwentblank,andamessageappearedinthecenterofthescreen:
WELLDONE,PARZIVAL!
PREPAREFORSTAGE2!
Thenthegamecabinetvanished,andmyavatarvanishedwithit.
...
Ifoundmyselfgallopingacrossafog-coveredhillside.IassumedIwasridingahorse,becauseIwasbobbingupanddownandIheardthesoundofhoofbeats.Directlyahead,afamiliar-lookingcastlehadjustappearedoutofthefog.
ButwhenIlookeddownatmyavatar’sbody,IsawthatIwasn’tridingahorseatall.Iwaswalkingontheground.Myavatarwasnowdressedinasuitofchain-mailarmor,andmyhandswereheldoutinfrontofmybody,asthoughIwereclutchingasetofreins.ButIwasn’tholdinganything.
Myhandswerecompletelyempty.
Istoppedmovingforwardandthesoundofhoofbeatsalsoceased,butnotuntilafewsecondslater.Iturnedaroundandsawthesourceofthesound.Itwasn’tahorse.Itwasamanbangingtwococonuthalvestogether.
ThenIknewwhereIwas.InsidethefirstsceneofMontyPythonandtheHolyGrail.AnotherofHalliday’sfavoritefilms,andperhapsthemost-belovedgeekfilmofalltime.
ItappearedtobeanotherFlicksync,liketheWarGamessimulationinsideGateOne.
IwasplayingKingArthur,Irealized.IworethesamecostumeGrahamClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd355
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Chapmanhadworninthefilm.Andthemanwiththecoconutswasmytrustymanservant,Patsy,asplayedbyTerryGilliam.
PatsybowedandgroveledabitwhenIturnedtofacehim,butsaidnothing.
“It’sPython’sHolyGrail!”IheardShotowhisperexcitedly.
“Duh,”Isaid,forgettingmyselfforasecond.“Iknowthat,Shoto.”
Awarningflashedonmydisplay:incorrectdialogue!Ascoreof
–100pointsappearedinthecornerofmydisplay.
“Smoothmove,Ex-lax,”IheardArt3missay.
“Justletusknowifyouneedanyhelp,Z,”Aechsaid.“Waveyourhandsorsomething,andwe’llfeedyouthenextline.”
Inoddedandgaveathumbs-up.ButIdidn’tthinkIwasgoingtoneedmuchhelp.Overthepastsixyears,I’dwatchedHolyGrailexactly157
times.Ikneweverywordbyheart.
Iglancedbackupatthecastleaheadofme,alreadyawareofwhatwaswaitingformethere.Ibeganto“gallop”again,holdingmyinvisiblereinsasIpretendedtorideforward.Onceagain,Patsybegantobanghiscoconuthalvestogether,gallopingalongbehindme.Whenwereachedtheentranceofthecastle,Ipulledbackonmy“reins”andbroughtmy“steed”
toahalt.
“Whoathere!”Ishouted.
Myscoreincreasedby100points,bringingitbackuptozero.
Oncue,twosoldiersappearedupabove,leaningoverthecastlewall.
“Whogoesthere?”oneofthemshouteddownatus.
“ItisI,Arthur,sonofUtherPendragon,fromthecastleofCamelot,”
Irecited.“KingoftheBritons!DefeateroftheSaxons!SovereignofallEngland!”
Myscorejumpedanother500points,andamessageinformedmethatI’dreceivedabonusformyaccentandinflection.Ifeltmyselfrelax,andIrealizedIwasalreadyhavingfun.
“Pulltheotherone!”thesoldierreplied.
“Iam,”Icontinued.“AndthisismytrustyservantPatsy.WehaveriddenthelengthandbreadthofthelandinsearchofknightswhowilljoinmeinmycourtatCamelot.Imustspeakwithyourlordandmaster!”
Another500points.Inmyear,Icouldhearmyfriendsgigglingandapplauding.
“What?”theothersoldierreplied.“Riddenonahorse?”
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“Yes!”Isaid.100points.
“You’reusingcoconuts!”
“What?”Isaid.100points.
“You’vegottwoemptyhalvesofcoconutandyou’rebangin’’emtogether!”
“So?Wehaveriddensincethesnowsofwintercoveredthisland,throughthekingdomofMercia,through—”Another500points.
“Where’dyougetthecoconuts?”
Andsoitwent.ThecharacterIwasplayingchangedfromonescenetothenext,switchingtowhomeverhadthemostdialogue.Incredibly,Iflubbedonlysixorsevenlines.EachtimeIgotstumped,allIhadtodowasshrugandholdoutmyhands,palmsup—mysignalthatIneededsomehelp—andAech,Art3mis,andShotowouldallgleefullyfeedmethecorrectline.Therestofthetimetheyremainedsilentexceptfortheoccasionalgigglefitorburstoflaughter.Theonlyreallydifficultpartwasnotlaughingmyself,especiallywhenArt3misstarteddoingnote-perfectrecitationsofallofCarolCleveland’slinesintheCastleAnthraxscene.Icrackedupafewtimesandgothitwithscorepenaltiesforit.Otherwise,itwassmoothsailing.
Reenactingthefilmwasn’tjusteasy—itwasatotalblast.
Abouthalfwaythroughthemovie,rightaftermyconfrontationwiththeKnightsofNi,Iopenedupatextwindowonmydisplayandtypedstatusonthesixers?
“FifteenofthemarestillplayingTempest,”IheardAechreply.“ButthreeofthembeatHalliday’sscoreandarenowinsidetheGrailsimulation.”Abriefpause.“Andtheleader—Sorrento,wethink—isrunningjustnineminutesbehindyou.”
“Andsofar,hehasn’tmissedasinglelineofdialogue,”Shotoadded.
Inearlycursedoutloud,thencaughtmyselfandtypedshit!
“Exactly,”Art3missaid.
Itookadeepbreathandreturnedmyattentiontothenextscene(“TheTaleofSirLauncelot”).AechcontinuedtogivemeupdatesontheSixerswheneverIaskedforthem.
WhenIreachedthefilm’sfinalscene(theassaultontheFrenchCastle),Igrewanxiousagain,wonderingwhatwouldhappennext.TheFirstGatehadrequiredmetoreenactamovie(WarGames),andtheSecondGatehadcontainedavideogamechallenge(BlackTiger).Sofar,theThirdClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd357
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Gatehadcontainedboth.Iknewtheremustbeathirdstage,butIhadnoideawhatitmightbe.
Igotmyanswerafewminuteslater.AssoonasIcompletedHolyGrail’sfinalscene,mydisplaywentblackwhilethesillyorganmusicthatendsthefilmplayedforafewminutes.Whenthemusicstopped,thefollowingappearedonmydisplay:
CONGRATULATIONS!
YOUHAVEREACHEDTHEEND!
READYPLAYER1
Andthen,asthetextfadedaway,Ifoundmyselfstandinginahugeoak-paneledroomasbigasawarehouse,withahighvaultedceilingandapolishedhardwoodfloor.Theroomhadnowindows,andonlyoneexit—
largedoubledoorssetintooneofthefourbarewalls.Anolderhigh-endOASISimmersionrigstoodintheabsolutecenteroftheexpansiveroom.
Overahundredglasstablessurroundedtherig,arrangedinalargeovalaroundit.Oneachtabletherewasadifferentclassichomecomputerorvideogamesystem,accompaniedbytieredracksthatappearedtoholdacompletecollectionofitsperipherals,controllers,software,andgames.
Allofitwasarrangedperfectly,likeamuseumexhibit.Lookingaroundthecircle,fromonesystemtothenext,Isawthatthecomputersseemedtobearrangedroughlybyyearoforigin.APDP-1.AnAltair8800.AnIMSAI8080.AnAppleI,rightnexttoanAppleII.AnAtari2600.ACommodorePET.AnIntellivision.SeveraldifferentTRS-80models.AnAtari400and800.AColecoVision.ATI-99/4.ASinclairZX80.ACommodore64.VariousNintendoandSegagamesystems.TheentirelineageofMacsandPCs,PlayStationsandXboxes.Finally,completingthecircle,wasanOASISconsole—connectedtotheimmersionriginthecenteroftheroom.
IrealizedthatIwasstandinginare-creationofJamesHalliday’soffice,theroominhismansionwherehe’dspentmostofthelastfifteenyearsofhislife.Theplacewherehe’dcodedhislastandgreatestgame.TheoneIwasnowplaying.
I’dneverseenanyphotosofthisroom,butitslayoutandcontentshadbeendescribedingreatdetailbythemovershiredtocleartheplaceoutafterHalliday’sdeath.
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IlookeddownatmyavatarandsawthatInolongerappearedasoneoftheMontyPythonknights.IwasParzivalonceagain.
First,Ididtheobviousandtriedtheexit.Thedoorswouldn’tbudge.
Iturnedbackandtookanotherlonglookaroundtheroom,surveyingthelonglineofmonumentstothehistoryofcomputingandvideogames.
ThatwaswhenIrealizedthattheoval-shapedringinwhichtheywerearrangedactuallyformedtheoutlineofanegg.
Inmyhead,IrecitedthewordsofHalliday’sfirstriddle,theoneinAnorak’sInvitation:
Threehiddenkeysopenthreesecretgates
Whereintheerrantwillbetestedforworthytraits
Andthosewiththeskilltosurvivethesestraits
WillreachTheEndwheretheprizeawaits
I’dreachedtheend.Thiswasit.Halliday’sEastereggmustbehiddensomewhereinthisroom.
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“Doyouguysseethis?”Iwhispered.
Therewasnoreply.
“Hello?Aech?Art3mis?Shoto?Areyouguysstillthere?”
Stillnoreply.EitherOghadcuttheirvoicelinkstome,orHallidayhadcodedthisfinalstageofthegatesothatnooutsidecommunicationwaspossible.Iwasprettysureitwasthelatter.
Istoodthereinsilenceforaminute,unsureofwhattodo.ThenIfollowedmyfirstinstinctandwalkedovertotheAtari2600.Itwashookeduptoa1977ZenithColorTV.IturnedontheTV,butnothinghappened.
ThenIswitchedontheAtari.Stillnothing.Therewasnopower,eventhoughboththeTVandtheAtariwerepluggedintoelectricaloutletssetintothefloor.
ItriedtheAppleIIonthetablebesideit.Itwouldn’tswitchoneither.
Afterafewminutesofexperimentation,Idiscoveredthattheonlycomputerthatwouldpoweronwasoneoftheoldest,theIMSAI8080,thesamemodelofcomputerMatthewBroderickownedinWarGames.
WhenIbooteditup,thescreenwascompletelyblank,saveforoneword.
LOGIN:
ItypedinanorakandhitEnter.
IDENTIFICATIONNOTRECOGNIZED—CONNECTIONTERMINATED.
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ThenthecomputershutitselfoffandIhadtopoweritbackontogettheloginpromptagain.
Itriedhalliday.Nodice.
InWarGames,thebackdoorpasswordthathadgrantedaccesstotheWOPRsupercomputerwas“Joshua.”ProfessorFalken,thecreatoroftheWOPR,hadusedthenameofhissonforthepassword.Thepersonhe’dlovedmostintheworld.
Itypedinog.Itdidn’twork.ogdendidn’tworkeither.
ItypedinkiraandhittheEnterkey.
IDENTIFICATIONNOTRECOGNIZED—CONNECTIONTERMINATED.
Itriedeachofhisparents’firstnames.Itriedzaphod,thenameofhispetfish.Thentiberius,thenameofaferrethe’donceowned.
Noneofthemworked.
Icheckedthetime.I’dbeeninthisroomforovertenminutesnow.
WhichmeantthatSorrentohadcaughtupwithme.Sohewouldnowbeinsidehisownseparatecopyofthisroom,probablywithateamofHallidayscholarswhisperingsuggestionsinhisear,thankstohishackedimmersionrig.Theywereprobablyalreadyworkingfromaprioritizedlistofpossibilities,enteringthemasfastasSorrentocouldtype.
Iwasoutoftime.
Iclenchedmyteethinfrustration.Ihadnoideawhattotrynext.
ThenIrememberedalinefromOgdenMorrow’sbiography:TheoppositesexmadeJimextremelynervous,andKirawastheonlygirlthatIeversawhim
speaktoinarelaxedmanner.Buteventhen,itwasonlyin-character,asAnorak,duringthecourseofourgamingsessions,andhewouldonlyaddressherasLeucosia,thenameofherD&Dcharacter.
Irebootedthecomputeragain.Whentheloginpromptreappeared,Itypedinleucosia.ThenIhittheEnterkey.
Everysystemintheroompowereditselfon.Thesoundsofwhirringdiskdrives,self-testbeeps,andotherboot-upsoundsechoedoffthevaultedceiling.
IranbackovertotheAtari2600andsearchedthroughthegiantrackofalphabetizedgamecartridgesbesideituntilIfoundtheoneIwaslookingfor:Adventure.IshoveditintotheAtariandturnedthesystemon,thenhittheResetswitchtostartthegame.
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IttookmeonlyafewminutestoreachtheSecretRoom.
Igrabbedtheswordandusedittoslayallthreeofthedragons.ThenIfoundtheblackkey,openedthegatesoftheBlackCastle,andventuredintoitslabyrinth.Thegraydotwashiddenrightwhereitwassupposedtobe.Ipickeditupandcarrieditbackacrossthetiny8-bitkingdom,thenusedittopassthroughthemagicbarrierandentertheSecretRoom.
ButunliketheoriginalAtarigame,thisSecretRoomdidn’tcontainthenameofWarrenRobinett,Adventure’soriginalprogrammer.Instead,attheverycenterofthescreen,therewasalargewhiteovalwithpixelatededges.Anegg.
Theegg.
IstaredattheTVscreeninstunnedsilenceforamoment.ThenIpulledtheAtarijoysticktotheright,movingmytinysquareavataracrosstheflickeringscreen.TheTV’smonospeakeremittedabriefelectronicbipsoundasIdroppedthe
graydotandpickeduptheegg.AsIdid,therewasabrilliantflashoflight,andthenIsawthatmyavatarwasnolongerholdingajoystick.Now,cuppedinbothofmyhands,wasalargesilveregg.Icouldseemyavatar’swarpedreflectiononitscurvedsurface.
WhenIfinallymanagedtostopstaringatit,Ilookedupandsawthatthedoubledoorsontheothersideoftheroomhadbeenreplacedwiththegateexit—acrystal-edgedportalleadingbackintothefoyerofCastleAnorak.Thecastleappearedtohavebeencompletelyrestored,eventhoughtheOASISserverstillwouldn’tresetforseveralmorehours.
ItookonelastlookaroundHalliday’soffice;then,stillclutchingtheegginmyhands,Iwalkedacrosstheroomandsteppedthroughtheexit.
AssoonasIwasthroughit,IturnedaroundjustintimetoseetheCrystalGatetransformintoalargewoodendoorsetintothecastlewall.
Iopenedthewoodendoor.BeyondittherewasaspiralstaircasethatleduptothetopofCastleAnorak’stallesttower.There,IfoundAnorak’sstudy.Toweringshelveslinedtheroom,filledwithancientscrollsanddustyspellbooks.
Iwalkedovertothewindowandlookedoutonastunningviewofthesurroundinglandscape.Itwasnolongerbarren.TheeffectsoftheCataclysthadbeenundone,andallofChthoniaappearedtobehavebeenrestoredalongwiththecastle.
Ilookedaroundtheroom.Directlybeneaththefamiliarblackdragonpaintingtherewasanornatecrystalpedestalonwhichrestedagoldchal-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd362
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iceencrustedwithtinyjewels.ItsdiametermatchedthatofthesilvereggIheldinmyhands.
Iplacedtheegginthechalice,anditfitperfectly.
Inthedistance,Iheardafanfareoftrumpets,andtheeggbegantoglow.
“Youwin,”Iheardavoicesay.IturnedandsawthatAnorakwasstandingrightbehindme.Hisobsidianblackrobesseemedtopullmostofthesunlightoutoftheroom.“Congratulations,”hesaid,stretchingouthislong-fingeredhand.
Ihesitated,wonderingifthiswasanothertrick.Orperhapsonefinaltest...
“Thegameisover,”Anoraksaid,asifhe’dreadmymind.“It’stimeforyoutoreceiveyourprize.”
Ilookeddownathisoutstretchedhand.Then,afteramoment’shesitation,Itookit.
Cascadingboltsofbluelightningeruptedinthespacebetweenus,andtheirspiderwebtinesenvelopedusboth,asifasurgeofpowerwerepassingfromhisavatarintomine.Whenthelightningsubsided,IsawthatAnorakwasnolongerdressedinhisblackwizard’srobes.Infact,henolongerlookedlikeAnorakatall.Hewasshorter,thinner,andsomewhatlesshandsome.NowhelookedlikeJamesHalliday.Pale.Middle-aged.HewasdressedinwornjeansandafadedSpaceInvadersT-shirt.
IlookeddownatmyownavataranddiscoveredthatIwasnowwearingAnorak’srobes.ThenIrealizedthattheiconsandreadoutsaroundtheedgeofmydisplayhadalsochanged.Mystatswereallcompletelymaxxedout,andInowhadalistofspells,inherentpowers,andmagicitemsthatseemedtoscrollonforever.
Myavatar’slevelandhit-pointcountersbothhadinfinitysymbolsinfrontofthem.
Andmycreditreadoutnowdisplayedanumbertwelvedigitslong.Iwasamultibillionaire.
“I’mentrustingthecareoftheOASIStoyounow,Parzival,”Hallidaysaid.
“Youravatarisimmortalandall-powerful.Whateveryouwant,allyouhavetodoiswishforit.Prettysweet,eh?”Heleanedtowardmeandloweredhisvoice.“Domeafavor.Tryanduseyourpowersonlyforgood.OK?”
“OK,”Isaid,inavoicethatwasbarelyawhisper.
Hallidaysmiled,thengesturedaroundus.“Thisisyourcastlenow.I’veClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd363
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codedthisroomsothatonlyyouravatarcanenterit.Ididthistoensurethatyoualonehaveaccesstothis.”Hewalkedovertoabookshelfagainstthewallandpulledonthespineofoneofthevolumesitheld.Iheardaclick;thenthebookshelfslidaside,revealingasquaremetalplatesetintothewall.Inthecenteroftheplatetherewasacomicallylargeredbuttonembossedwithasingleword:off.
“IcallthistheBigRedButton,”Hallidaysaid.“Ifyoupressit,itwillshutofftheentireOASISandlaunchawormthatwilldeleteeverythingstoredontheGSSservers,includingalloftheOASISsourcecode.ItwillshutdowntheOASISforever.”Hesmirked.“Sodon’tpressitunlessyou’reabsolutelypositiveit’stherightthingtodo,OK?”Hegavemeanoddsmile.“Itrustyourjudgment.”
Hallidayslidthebookshelfbackintoplace,concealingthebuttononceagain.Thenhestartledmebyputtinghisarmaroundmyshoulders.“Listen,”hesaid,adoptingaconfidentialtone.“IneedtotellyouonelastthingbeforeIgo.SomethingIdidn’tfigureoutformyselfuntilitwasalreadytoolate.”Heledmeovertothewindowandmotionedoutatthelandscapestretchingoutbeyondit.“IcreatedtheOASISbecauseIneverfeltathomeintherealworld.Ididn’tknowhowtoconnectwiththepeoplethere.Iwasafraid,forallofmylife.RightupuntilIknewitwasending.
ThatwaswhenIrealized,asterrifyingandpainfulasrealitycanbe,it’salsotheonlyplacewhereyoucanfindtruehappiness.Becauserealityisreal.Doyouunderstand?”
“Yes,”Isaid.“IthinkIdo.”
“Good,”hesaid,givingmeawink.“Don’tmakethesamemistakeIdid.Don’thideinhereforever.”
Hesmiledandtookafewstepsawayfromme.“Allright.Ithinkthatcoverseverything.It’stimeformetoblowthispopstand.”
ThenHallidaybegantodisappear.Hesmiledandwavedgood-byeashisavatarslowlyfadedoutofexistence.
“Goodluck,Parzival,”hesaid.“Andthanks.Thanksforplayingmygame.”
Thenhewascompletelygone.
...
“Areyouguysthere?”Isaidtotheemptyairafewminuteslater.
“Yes!”Aechsaidexcitedly.“Canyouhearus?”
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“Yeah.Icannow.Whathappened?”
“ThesystemcutoffourvoicelinkstoyouassoonasyouenteredHalliday’soffice,sowecouldn’ttalktoyou.”
“Luckily,youdidn’tneedourhelpanyway,”Shotosaid.“Goodjob,man.”
“Congratulations,Wade,”IheardArt3missay.AndIcouldtellshemeantittoo.
“Thanks,”Isaid.“ButIcouldn’thavedoneitwithoutyouguys.”
“You’reright,”Art3missaid.“Remembertomentionthatwhenyoutalktothemedia.Ogsaysthereareafewhundredreportersontheirwayhererightnow.”
IglancedbackoveratthebookshelfthatconcealedtheBigRedButton.
“DidyouguysseeeverythingHallidaysaidtomebeforehevanished?”Iasked.
“No,”Art3missaid.“Wesaweverythingupuntilhetoldyouto‘tryanduseyourpowersonlyforgood.’Thenyourvidfeedcutout.Whathappenedafterthat?”
“Nothingmuch,”Isaid.“I’lltellyouaboutitlater.”
“Dude,”Aechsaid.“You’vegottochecktheScoreboard.”
IopenedawindowandpulleduptheScoreboard.Thelistofhighscoreswasgone.NowtheonlythingdisplayedonHalliday’swebsitewasanimageofmyavatar,dressedinAnorak’srobes,holdingthesilveregg,alongwiththewordsparzivalwins!
“WhathappenedtotheSixers?”Iasked.“Theoneswhowerestillinsidethegate?”
“We’renotsure,”Aechsaid.“TheirvidfeedsvanishedwhentheScoreboardchanged.”
“Maybetheiravatarswerekilled,”Shotosaid.“Ormaybe...”
“Maybetheywerejustejectedfromthegate,”Isaid.
IpulledupmymapofChthoniaandsawthatIcouldnowteleportanywhereintheOASISsimplybyselectingmydesireddestinationintheatlas.IzoomedinonCastleAnorakandtappedaspotjustoutsidethefrontentrance,andinablink,myavatarwasstandingthere.
Iwasright.WhenI’dclearedtheThirdGate,theeighteenSixeravatarswhowerestillinsidehadbeenejectedfromthegateanddepositedinfrontofthecastle.TheywereallstandingtherewithconfusedlooksontheirfaceswhenIappearedinfrontofthem,resplendentinmynewthreads.
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Theyallstaredatmeinsilenceforafewseconds,thenpulledoutgunsandswords,preparingtoattack.Theyalllookedidentical,soIcouldn’ttellwhichonewasbeingcontrolledbySorrento.Butatthispoint,Ididn’treallycare.
Usingmyavatar’snewsuperuserinterface,Imadeasweepinggesturewithmyhand,selectingalloftheSixeravatarsonmydisplay.Theiroutlinesbegantoglowred.ThenItappedtheskull-and-crossbonesiconthatnowappearedonmyavatar’stoolbar.AlleighteenSixeravatarsinstantlydroppeddead.Theirbodiesslowlyfadedoutofexistence,eachleavingbehindatinypileofweaponsandloot.
“Holyshit!”IheardShotosayoverthecomlink.“Howdidyoudothat?”
“YouheardHalliday,”Aechsaid.“Hisavatarisimmortalandall-powerful.”
“Yeah,”Isaid.“Hewasn’tkidding,either.”
“Hallidayalsosaidyoucouldwishforwhateveryouwanted,”Aechsaid.“Whatareyougonnawishforfirst?”
Ithoughtaboutthatforasecond;thenItappedthenewCommandiconthatnowappearedattheedgeofmydisplayandsaid,“IwishforAech,Art3mis,andShototoberesurrected.”
Adialogwindowpoppedup,askingmetoconfirmthespellingofeachoftheiravatarnames.OnceIdid,thesystemaskedmeif,inadditiontoresurrectingtheiravatars,Iwantedtorestorealloftheirlostitems,too.ItappedtheYesicon.Thenamessageappearedinthecenterofmydisplay:resurrectioncomplete.avatarsrestored.
“Guys?”Isaid.“Youmightwanttotryloggingbackintoyouraccountsnow.”
“We’realreadyonourway!”Aechshouted.
Afewsecondslater,Shotologgedbackintohisaccount,andhisavatarmaterializedashortdistanceinfrontofme,intheexactspotwherehe’dbeen
killedafewhoursearlier.Heranovertome,grinningfromeartoear.“Arigato,Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.
Ireturnedthebow,thenthrewmyarmsaroundhim.“Welcomeback,”
Isaid.Amomentlater,Aechemergedfromthecastleentranceandranovertojoinus.
“Goodasnew,”hesaid,grinningdownathisrestoredavatar.
“Thanks,Z.”
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“Denada.”Iglancedbackthroughthecastle’sopenentrance.“Where’sArt3mis?Sheshouldhavereappearedrightnexttoyou—”
“Shedidn’tlogbackin,”Aechsaid.“Shesaidshewantedtogooutsideandgetsomefreshair.”
“Yousawher?What—?”Isearchedfortherightwords.“Howdidshelook?”
Theybothjustsmiledatme;thenAechrestedahandonmyshoulder.
“Shesaidshe’dbeoutsidewaitingforyou.Wheneveryou’rereadytomeether.”
Inodded.IwasabouttotapmyLog-outiconwhenAechheldupher—
his—hand.“Waitasecond!Beforeyoulogout,you’vegottoseesomething,”hesaid,openingawindowinfrontofme.“Thisisairingonallofthenewsfeedsrightnow.ThefedsjusttookSorrentoinforquestioning.
TheystormedintoIOIheadquartersandyankedhimrightoutofhishapticchair!”
Avideoclipbegantoplay.HandheldcamerafootageshowedateamoffederalagentsleadingSorrentoacrossthelobbyoftheIOIcorporateheadquarters.Hewasstillwearinghishapticsuitandwasshadowedbyagray-hairedmaninasuitwhoIassumedwashisattorney.Sorrentolookedannoyedmorethananything,asifthiswerealljustamildin-convenience.Thecaptionalongthebottomofthewindowread:TopIOIExecutiveSorrentoAccusedofMurder.
“ThenewsfeedshavebeenplayingclipsfromthesimcapofyourchatlinksessionwithSorrentoallday,”Aechsaid,pausingtheclip.“Especiallythepartwherehethreatenstokillyouandthenblowsupyouraunt’strailer.”
AechhitPlay,andthenewsclipcontinued.ThefederalagentscontinuedtousherSorrentothroughthelobby,whichwaspackedwithreporters,allpushingagainstoneanotherandshoutingquestions.ThereportershootingthevideowewerewatchinglungedforwardandjammedthecamerainSorrento’sface.“DidyougivetheordertokillWadeWattspersonally?”thereportershouted.“Howdoesitfeeltoknowyoujustlostthecontest?”
Sorrentosmiled,butdidn’treply.Thenhisattorneysteppedinfrontofthecameraandaddressedthereporters.“Thechargesleveledagainstmyclientarepreposterous,”hesaid.“Thesimcapbeingcirculatedisclearlyadoctoredfake.Wehavenoothercommentatthistime.”
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Sorrentonodded.Hecontinuedtosmileasthefedsledhimoutofthebuilding.
“Thebastardwillprobablygetoffscot-free,”Isaid.“IOIcanaffordtohirethebestlawyersintheworld.”
“Yes,theycan,”Aechsaid.ThenheflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Butnowsocanwe.”
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WhenIsteppedoutoftheimmersionbay,Ogwasstandingtherewaitingforme.“Welldone,Wade!”hesaid,pullingmeintoacrushingbearhug.“Welldone!”
“Thanks,Og.”Iwasstilldazedandfeltunsteadyonmyfeet.
“SeveralchiefexecutivesfromGSSarrivedwhileyouwereloggedin,”
Ogsaid.“AlongwithallofJim’slawyers.They’reallwaitingupstairs.Asyoucanimagine,they’reanxioustospeakwithyou.”
“DoIhavetotalktothemrightnow?”
“No,ofcoursenot!”Helaughed.“Theyallworkforyounow,remember?Makethebastardswaitaslongasyoulike!”Heleanedforward.“Mylawyerisuptheretoo.He’sagoodguy.Arealpitbull.He’llmakesurethatnoonemesseswithyou,OK?”
“Thanks,Og,”Isaid.“Ireallyoweyou.”
“Nonsense!”hesaid.“Ishouldbethankingyou.Ihaven’thadthismuchfunindecades!Youdidgood,kid.”
Iglancedarounduncertainly.AechandShotowerestillintheirimmersionbays,holdinganimpromptuonlinepressconference.ButArt3mis’sbaywasempty.IturnedbacktoOg.
“DoyouknowwhichwayArt3miswent?”
Oggrinnedatme,thenpointed.“Upthosestairsandoutthefirstdooryousee,”hesaid.“Shesaidshe’dwaitforyouatthecenterofmyhedgemaze.”Hesmiled.“It’saneasymaze.Itshouldn’ttakeyouverylongtofindher.”
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Isteppedoutsideandsquintedasmyeyesadjustedtothelight.Theairwaswarm,andthesunwasalreadyhighoverheard.Therewasn’tacloudinthesky.
Itwasabeautifulday.
Thehedgemazecoveredseveralacresoflandbehindthemansion.Theentrancewasdesignedtolooklikethefacadeofacastle,andyouenteredthemazethroughitsopengates.Thedensehedgewallsthatcomprisedthemazeweretenfeettall,makingitimpossibletopeekoverthem,evenifyoustoodontopofoneofthebenchesplacedthroughoutthelabyrinth.
Ienteredthemazeandwanderedaroundincirclesforafewminutes,confused.Eventually,Irealizedthatthemaze’slayoutwasidenticaltothelabyrinthinAdventure.
Afterthat,ittookmeonlyafewmoreminutestofindmywaytothelargeopenareaatthemaze’scenter.Alargefountainstoodthere,withadetailedstonesculptureofAdventure’sthreeduck-shapeddragons.Eachdragonwasspittingastreamofwaterinsteadofbreathingfire.
AndthenIsawher.
Shewassittingonastonebench,staringintothefountain.Shehadherbacktome,andherheadwastilteddown.Herlongblackhairspilleddownoverherrightshoulder.Icouldseethatshewaskneadingherhandsinherlap.
Iwasafraidtomoveanycloser.Finally,Iworkedupthecouragetospeak.“Hello,”Isaid.
Sheliftedherheadatthesoundofmyvoice,butdidn’tturnaround.
“Hello,”Iheardhersay.Anditwashervoice.Art3mis’svoice.ThevoiceI’dspentsomanyhourslisteningto.Andthatgavemethecouragetostepforward.
IwalkedaroundthefountainandstoppedonceIwasstandingdirectlyinfrontofher.Assheheardmeapproach,sheturnedherheadaway,avertinghereyesand
keepingmeoutofherfieldofvision.
ButIcouldseeher.
ShelookedjustasshehadinthephotoI’dseen.ShehadthesameRubenesquebody.Thesamepale,freckledskin.Thesamehazeleyesandravenhair.Thesamebeautifulroundface,withthesamereddishbirthmark.Butunlikeinthatphoto,shewasn’ttryingtohidethebirthmarkwithasweepofherhair.Shehadherhairbrushedback,soIcouldseeit.
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Iwaitedinsilence.Butshestillwouldn’tlookupatme.
“YoulookjustlikeIalwayspicturedyou,”Isaid.“Beautiful.”
“Really?”shesaidsoftly.Slowly,sheturnedtofaceme,takinginmyappearancealittleatatime,startingwithmyfeetandthengraduallyworkingherwayuptomyface.Whenoureyesfinallymet,shesmiledatmenervously.“Well,whatdoyouknow?YoulookjustlikeIalwaysthoughtyouwouldtoo,”shesaid.“Buttugly.”
Webothlaughed,andmostofthetensionintheairdissipated.Thenwestaredintoeachother’seyesforwhatseemedlikealongtime.Itwas,Irealized,alsotheveryfirsttime.
“Wehaven’tbeenformallyintroduced,”shesaid.“I’mSamantha.”
“Hello,Samantha.I’mWade.”
“It’snicetofinallymeetyouinperson,Wade.”
Shepattedthebenchbesideher,andIsatdown.
Afteralongsilence,shesaid,“Sowhathappensnow?”
Ismiled.“We’regoingtouseallofthemoolahwejustwontofeedeveryoneontheplanet.We’regoingtomaketheworldabetterplace,right?”
Shegrinned.“Don’tyouwanttobuildahugeinterstellarspaceship,loaditfullofvideogames,junkfood,andcomfycouches,andthengetthehelloutofhere?”
“I’mupforthat,too,”Isaid.“IfitmeansIgettospendtherestofmylifewithyou.”
Shegavemeashysmile.“We’llhavetosee,”shesaid.“Wejustmet,youknow.”
“I’minlovewithyou.”
Herlowerlipstartedtotremble.“You’resureaboutthat?”
“Yes.Iam.Becauseit’strue.”
Shesmiledatme,butIalsosawthatshewascrying.“I’msorryforbreakingthingsoffwithyou,”shesaid.“Fordisappearingfromyourlife.
Ijust—”
“It’sOK,”Isaid.“Iunderstandwhyyoudiditnow.”
Shelookedrelieved.“Youdo?”
Inodded.“Youdidtherightthing.”
“Youthinkso?”
“Wewon,didn’twe?”
Shesmiledatme,andIsmiledback.
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“Listen,”Isaid.“Wecantakethingsasslowasyoulike.I’mreallyaniceguy,onceyougettoknowme.Iswear.”
Shelaughedandwipedawayafewofhertears,butshedidn’tsayanything.
“DidImentionthatI’malsoextremelyrich?”Isaid.“Ofcourse,soareyou,soIdon’tsupposethat’sabigsellingpoint.”
“Youdon’tneedtosellmeonanything,Wade,”shesaid.“You’remybestfriend.Myfavoriteperson.”Withwhatappearedtobesomeeffort,shelookedmeintheeye.“I’vereallymissedyou,youknowthat?”
Myheartfeltlikeitwasonfire.Itookamomenttoworkupmycourage;thenIreachedoutandtookherhand.Wesatthereawhile,holdinghands,revelinginthestrangenewsensationofactuallytouchingoneanother.
Sometimelater,sheleanedoverandkissedme.Itfeltjustlikeallthosesongsandpoemshadpromiseditwould.Itfeltwonderful.Likebeingstruckbylightning.
ItoccurredtomethenthatforthefirsttimeinaslongasIcouldremember,IhadabsolutelynodesiretologbackintotheOASIS.
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Acknowledgments
Manyofmyfavoritepeopleweresubjectedtoearlydraftsofthisbook,andeachofthemgavemeinvaluablefeedbackandencouragement.MysincerethankstoEricCline,SusanSomers-Willett,ChrisBeaver,HarryKnowles,AmberBird,IngridRichter,SaraSutterfieldWinn,JeffKnight,HilaryThomas,AnneMiano,TonieKnight,NicholeCook,CristinO’KeefeAptowicz,JaySmith,MikeHenry,JedStrahm,AndyHowell,andChrisFry.
I’malsoindebtedtoYfatReissGendell,theCoolestAgentintheKnownUniverse,whomanagedtomakeseveralofmylifelongdreamscometruejustafewmonthsafterImether.ThanksalsotoStéphanieAbou,Han-nahBrownGordon,CeciliaCampbell-Westlind,andalloftheawesomefolksatFoundryLiteraryandMedia.
Ahugeshout-outtotheamazingDanFarah,myfriend,manager,andHollywoodpartnerincrime.MygratitudealsogoesouttoDonaldDeLine,AndrewHaas,andJesseEhrmanatWarnerBros.,forbelievingthatthisbookwillmakeagreatmovie.
ThankstotheincrediblytalentedandsupportiveteamatCrown,includingPattyBerg,SarahBreivogel,JacobBronstein,DavidDrake,JillFlaxman,JacquiLebow,RachelleMandik,MayaMavjee,SethMorris,MichaelPalgon,TinaPohlman,AnnsleyRosner,andMollyStern.Andtomyfantasticcopyeditor,DeannaHoak,whofoundtheSecretRoominAdventurebackintheday.
IoweaspecialdebtofgratitudetoJulianPavia,mybrillianteditor,whobelievedinmyabilityasawriterlongbeforeIfinishedthisbook.Julian’sstartlingintelligence,insight,andrelentlessattentiontodetailhelpedmeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd373
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shapeReadyPlayerOneintothebookI’dalwayswantedittobe,andhemademeabetterwriterintheprocess.
Finally,Iwanttothankallofthewriters,filmmakers,actors,artists,musicians,programmers,gamedesigners,andgeekswhoseworkI’vepaidtributetointhisstory.Thesepeoplehaveallentertainedanden-lightenedme,andIhopethat—likeHalliday’shunt—thisbookwillinspireotherstoseekouttheircreations.
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abouttheauthor
ErnestClinelivesinAustin,Texas,
wherehedevotesalargeportionofhistimetogeekingout.Thisishisfirstnovel.
Formoreinformationpleasevisit:
www.ernestcline.com
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