The Reality Bug (38 page)

We had to take control and shut down Lifelight, for good.

We finally made it back into the core. Down the long corridor of glass I saw phaders taking their places in the control chairs, preparing to begin the jumps. But there was still time. The control stations were still dark.

Aja ran to the door leading to the Alpha Core and inserted her green card. The door didn't open. She tried it again; it stayed closed.

“Your card has been disallowed,” came a voice from behind us. It was Dr. Sever. She walked up to us with several strong-arm-looking phaders.

“Your actions over the last few days are still suspect, Aja,” Sever said. “Until we complete a full investigation, we can't allow you access to Lifelight.”

“Dr. Sever,” Zetlin said calmly, “please, give it some time. You hold the future of Veelox in your hands. Won't you please wait?”

“I'm sorry Dr. Zetlin,” she said with a smile. “I'm afraid it's too late. Every pyramid on Veelox is moments away from going back online.”

As if on cue, the core came to life. The millions of indicator lights flashed once again as images appeared on the thousands of monitors. The jumpers were back in their fantasies. Dr. Zetlin closed his eyes and dropped his head in defeat.

I was stunned. Moments before, I felt sure we had pulled Veelox back from the brink of collapse. But now the territory was in as much danger as the moment I first arrived. No, it was worse. Aja's Reality Bug had failed. Veelox had reached a critical turning point, and was pushed the wrong way.

There was no other way to say it:

Saint Dane had won.

“This is all thanks to you, Dr. Zetlin,” Sever said. “You got rid of that nasty little bug quite nicely. Now we can return to normal.”

Bug? Did she say bug? Nobody knew about the bug except …

Dr. Sever then leaned down to me and whispered in my ear. There was a subtle change in her voice. To everyone else she still sounded like Dr. Kree Sever, prime director of Lifelight. But the cold tone of her voice said something very different to me.

“How does it feel, Pendragon?” she said with an iciness that made me shiver. “The first territory of Halla is mine.”

SECOND EARTH

Bobby's image disappeared abruptly.

Mark and Courtney were left staring at nothing. They had left the Sherwood house and returned to the privacy of Courtney's father's basement workshop to watch the journal.

“That's it?” Courtney asked, upset. “He stopped recording his journal right there? That's not fair!”

Before Mark could offer an opinion, another image flickered to life. The recording wasn't yet complete. Courtney and Mark watched in wonder as the 3-D projection formed in front of them.

“There's more!” Mark exclaimed.

But the image that appeared before them wasn't Bobby's. It was Aja Killian's.

“Hello to you, Mark Dimond and Courtney Chetwynde,” Aja began. “My name is Aja Killian, the Traveler from Veelox. Pendragon has told me all about you two, and that he trusts you both very much. This is why I am completing his journal for him.”

Aja took off her small yellow glasses and rubbed her eyes. She looked tired.

“Pendragon is gone,” she continued. “He left Veelox shortly after Lifelight was brought back online. His destination was the territory of Eelong to search for the Traveler named Gunny. I feel as if my duty is to stay here to do all I can to keep Veelox from falling further into decay. I have the help of Dr. Zeitin, but I'm afraid we are fighting a losing battle. The directors have all returned to Lifelight. Most of the phaders and vedders have also left on their own jumps. There aren't enough people left in reality to monitor the jumps, let alone care for their real lives. The pull of fantasy was just too strong. Saint Dane has won. Veelox is near dead.”

Aja was holding back tears.

“Pendragon asked me to finish his journal so you would know the state of Veelox, and to send it on to you. It is the least I can do. I feel as if I have failed the territory, failed the Travelers, and failed Pendragon. My only hope is that we can stop Saint Dane on the other territories, so that the only casualty of this evil war will be Veelox. My home.”

She swallowed hard and then said, “In my heart, I know this is not the way it was meant to be. This is the end of Bobby Pendragon's Journal Number Fifteen. Good-bye.”

Aja's image disappeared. The journal, and Bobby's adventure on Veelox, was now complete. Mark picked up the small silver projector and stared at it, as if hoping there were one last bit of news that would leap from it to give this story a happy ending.

There wasn't.

“So what does this mean?” Courtney asked nervously. “Saint Dane always said that as soon as the first domino fell, the others would fall easily.”

“I-I really don't know,” Mark said somberly.

Courtney jumped to her feet and paced. “I hate this!” she exclaimed. “I feel totally helpless. All this stuff is going on and all we can do is sit around and hear about it like a couple of nimrods.”

This made Mark smile. “I thought you only wanted to worry about school and soccer and normal life?” he asked.

Courtney stopped and looked straight at Mark. “The hell with soccer,” she declared. “I thought we were supposed to be acolytes?”

“Now you're talking!” declared Mark.

Early the next morning the two were back sitting on the couch in the apartment of Tom Dorney. Together they watched all three of Bobby's journals from Veelox. Afterward they described to Dorney what happened at the Sherwood house with the quigs and the stunning appearance of a flume.

“If that doesn't say we're ready to be acolytes,” Courtney concluded, “then tell us what will.”

Dorney scratched his chin. He then hoisted himself up out of his easy chair, grumbled, and shuffled into the kitchen.

“Does this mean he's pulling our chain again?” Courtney asked.

Mark shrugged. “Give him a chance.”

Dorney shuffled back into the living room with a glass of water. He didn't offer any to Mark or Courtney. The guy wasn't exactly a great host. He sat back down in his chair, spilling some water on his lap.

Courtney rolled her eyes, but neither said anything. The ball was still in Dorney's court.

“You're going to get messages,” he said calmly. “Sometimes from Travelers, other times from acolytes on other territories.”

Mark and Courtney sat up straight. Things had just gotten very interesting.

Courtney asked, “What kind of—”

“Let me speak,” Dorney snapped.

Courtney shut up.

“They'll come to you through the ring,” Dorney continued. “Like the message I sent to you. They may tell you that a Traveler will be arriving and that you need to provide Second Earth clothing. That's usually the case. But Pendragon may need something specific.”

“Like when you had to take care of Press's motorcycle,” Mark jumped in. He couldn't resist. He was getting excited.

“Yes,” Dorney answered, then took a sip of water.

“What about the quigs?” Courtney asked.

“Protect yourself,” Dorney answered. “There's no magic wand you can wave to make them go away. They aren't always around, but you have to be prepared when they are. I'll tell you one thing, they're afraid of the flumes. Don't ask me why. When a flume activates, you won't see any quigs around.”

“Can we contact other acolytes?” Mark asked.

“Look at your ring,” Dorney ordered.

Mark held up his hand so he and Courtney could see the heavy ring with the dark gray stone surrounded by the odd, carved symbols.

“Each of those symbols represents a territory,” Dorney explained. “There are ten in all.”

“Ten territories,” Mark repeated softly, as if he had just been given the secret of the ages.

“If you know the name of an acolyte,” Dorney continued, “take the ring off and call out that name. The symbol from their territory will activate the ring and you can send a message.”

“So if I took off the ring and said: ‘Evangeline,' the symbol for Veelox would open up the ring and I could send a note to her?”

“That's right.”

“Is that how we should get in touch with you?” Mark asked.

“You could,” Dorney answered. “Or you could pick up the telephone.”

“Oh. Right,” Mark said, feeling dumb.

“Can we contact Bobby through the ring?” Courtney asked.

“No,” was Dorney's quick answer. “Only the acolytes. Travelers don't need to be bothered with our problems.”

“Is there anything else?” Mark asked.

Dorney took some time to think about that answer. He looked out the window, his mind seeming to fly a million miles away. Courtney and Mark looked at each other. They weren't sure if Dorney had tuned them out, or was having deep thoughts.

“You are the acolytes from Second Earth now,” Dorney finally said. “With Press gone, I'm no longer needed. It may be an easy job compared to what the Travelers do, but I think you'll agree it's an important one.”

“We do. Absolutely. Yessir,” they assured him.

Dorney looked back out the window with a frown on his face.

“Is there something you're not telling us?” Courtney asked.

Dorney sighed and said, “It's just a feeling.”

“What?” demanded Courtney.

“I don't know,” Dorney said anxiously. “I didn't like what I heard about Veelox.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Courtney said.

Dorney looked at them. For the first time since they'd met him, Mark and Courtney actually felt as if he were softening up a bit.

“What I mean to say is,” Dorney continued, “be careful. Saint Dane has finally had a victory, and there's no telling what's next. From this point on, I can't guarantee that the old rules still apply.”

♦      ♦      ♦

Mark and Courtney took the train back to Stony Brook with that ominous warning still on their minds. Neither said much. They both had to get their minds around the fact that they now were officially acolytes. The only question was, what next?

“I want to go to the flume,” Mark announced.

“Why?” Courtney asked.

“We'll bring some of our clothes to leave there.”

“But nobody told us they needed clothes,” Courtney countered.

“I know. Just thinking ahead.”

The two fell silent for a moment, then Courtney said, “That's just an excuse to go there, isn't it?”

Mark was ready to argue, but decided not to. He nodded. “I guess I just want to see it again. To prove it's real.”

“I hear you,” Courtney said. “I do too.”

When they got off the train in Connecticut, they both went home and gathered up a bunch of clothes they thought a Traveler from some distant territory might need to blend in on Second Earth. Courtney picked out a bunch of simple, functional things like jeans, T-shirts, a sweater, socks, hiking boots, and underwear. She debated about bringing one of her bras, but figured that was overkill.

Mark gathered up a bunch of clothes that were totally out of style. It wasn't like he had a choice. That's all Mark had. He found sweatshirts with logos that meant nothing, no-name jeans, and generic sneakers. Style was not something Mark concerned himself with. He hoped the Travelers wouldn't either.

Mark brought one other thing from his house that he hoped he wouldn't need. He borrowed the sharp poker from his parents' fireplace toolset. It was woefully inadequate to deal with an attacking quig-dog, but it was all he could find.

Mark and Courtney met in front of the gates to the Sherwood house, each with a loaded backpack. They didn't say a word to each other as they walked around the side of the property to the tree that would give them access to the yard. Once over the wall, Mark held the fireplace poker, ready to defend them against a rampaging quig. Courtney saw that Mark's hand was shaking like Jell-O, so she gently took the poker from him. If either of them had a chance of fighting off a charging quig, it would be Courtney.

But they didn't run into any of the yellow-eyed beasts. They made it through the house, down to the basement, and into the root cellar that held the flume. No problem. They emptied their backpacks and neatly folded the clothes in a pile. Courtney looked at some of the geek clothes Mark brought, and chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, Bobby's gonna blend right in wearing a bright yellow hooded sweatshirt with a red logo that says,
Cool Dude!

“Give me a break,” Mark said defensively. “It's my favorite sweatshirt.”

Courtney shook her head in disbelief. When they were finished, they both gazed into the dark tunnel to the territories. They stood together silently, each with their own thoughts as to what the future might hold.

“I'm scared and excited at the same time,” Mark finally said.

“Really,” Courtney added. “I want to be part of this, but it's scary not knowing what to expect.”

“Can you imagine being a Traveler?” Mark asked while stepping into the mouth of the tunnel.

“Well, no,” Courtney answered, “to be honest.”

“Well, I've thought about it a lot!” Mark declared. “It would be awesome, stepping into a flume and announcing the next amazing place you'd like to go.”

“It's pretty unbelievable,” Courtney agreed.

“Look at this thing!” Mark said, scanning the flume. “It's kinda like having a jet fighter.”

“It is?” Courtney asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. You know what it's capable of, but have no idea what to do to make it go.”

“It's not all that hard,” Courtney said, “if you're a Traveler.”

Mark smiled, turned to face the dark tunnel, and shouted out:
“Eelong!”

He looked back to Courtney and said, “Could you imagine if—”

“Mark!” Courtney shouted.

Mark saw the terrified look on Courtney's face. She was looking deeper into the flume. What was back there? Mark spun quickly to see the impossible.