The Reality Bug (8 page)

I caught the towel and wiped my face. But when I dropped it, I realized with horror that I had gone blind. At least that's what it seemed like because the gym had gone black. Worse, I had gone deaf, too. A moment before, the place was rocking with the sound of hundreds of frenzied fans. Now it was like somebody had pulled the plug on the TV. Everything had gone dark and silent. I was totally disoriented, until I heard a voice. It was a calm, familiar voice that brought me back to reality.

“Relax, Pendragon,” Aja said. “Nothing is wrong. You're coming out of the jump.”

I then realized the truth. I wasn't deaf or blind. I was lying in a dark, silent tube.

“Just lie still for a few minutes,” Aja said. “I'll be right there to bring you out.”

I was filled with all sorts of emotions. First off, I was angry. Lifelight had just given me the most incredible gift I could imagine, only to snatch it right back. But I was also still high from the excitement of the game. I wasn't physically tired because I hadn't actually done anything. But the emotions were still there. I could remember the thrill of sinking those foul shots. But most of all, I felt sad. I had been given a small taste of being back with my family. It all seemed so real, and it made me miss them even more.

I heard a slight hum as light entered the tube. The silver disk behind my head was sliding into the wall. It was now official. I hadn't moved an inch since I was first sealed in. I had “jumped” into a computer simulation. I felt a slight movement and the table slid out of the tube. The first thing I saw was Aja. She stood at the control panel looking down at me.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Like I need another twenty minutes in there, thank you very much.”

“I'm glad it ended that way, because it only helps illustrate the point I need to make.”

“What point?”

Before she could answer, an alarm sounded. At least I thought it was an alarm. It was a loud, persistent horn that sliced through the quiet pyramid. Aja quickly glanced at her wrist band.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Medical call,” she said, suddenly sounding all official. “It's in this sector.”

Without another word of explanation, she bolted for the door. I was still a little dazed after coming out of my jump, but I wanted to know what was going on, so I threw my legs over the side of the table and stood up. I was a little wobbly at first, but a second later I was running after Aja.

I blasted out the door and almost lost my balance again when I was hit with the sight of the interior of this vast pyramid. Man, talk about a rude awakening. I had to shake off my disorientation, fast. I looked both ways and saw Aja sprinting along the balcony. I sucked it up and ran after her.

Up ahead, a red light was blinking outside one of the cubicle doors. It didn't take a genius to know that was where the alarm was coming from. Just before Aja got to the door, I saw a red-suited vedder running up from the other direction.

“Where is this jumper's phader?” Aja demanded.

“I don't know,” the vedder answered.

They both entered the cubicle with the flashing red light. I ran up and peered into the open door to see what was happening. Aja was at the control panel, quickly pushing buttons. A second later, the alarm stopped blaring.

“It came out of nowhere,” the vedder said nervously. “There weren't any signs.”

“Did the jumper try to abort?” Aja asked.

“No! His vitals just suddenly spiked.”

A second later the silver disk in the wall slid open and the table emerged with the jumper lying there. The vedder immediately attended to the person. The jumper was a man maybe around my father's age. He didn't seem to be in any kind of trouble. It looked like he was sleeping peacefully. The vedder had a device that resembled a Game Boy. He put it to the jumper's chest, then checked the readings. A second later he took it away and shook his head.

“Too late,” he said sadly.

“Too late?” I asked, entering the room. “What do you mean, ‘too late'?”

“What do you think he means, Pendragon?” Aja said quietly. “He's dead.”

Whoa. Left field. I hadn't expected that. “I thought this was supposed to be safe!” I said, feeling numb.

“It is,” Aja shot back. “But sometimes … things happen.”

The vedder started for the door.

“Where are you going?” Aja asked. “You've got to fill out a report!”

“Not me,” the vedder said haughtily. “My shift's over. I'm jumping. The next shift can handle it.”

The guy left. What a tool. Someone just died on his watch, and all he cared about was jumping into his own fantasy.

“Aja, what happened?” I asked.

Aja looked shaken. She tried to collect her thoughts. “I don't know. We'll have to look at the records of his jump. There are thousands of people in the pyramid. Sometimes they die of natural causes. But …”

“But what?”

“But it's starting to happen more often,” was her sober answer.

I didn't like the sound of that.

“You've seen Lifelight at its best, Pendragon,” she continued. “It's a wonderful tool that has brought joy to the people of Veelox. But it's got a downside, too. That's what you've got to see next.”

I'm going to end this journal here, guys. While Aja did a postmortem on the dead jumper, she put me in a room by myself with this incredible recording device. I wanted to be part of their investigation, but Aja didn't know how to explain who I was. Still, I'm curious to know what they come up with. Once they're finished, Aja is going to take me to her home. Then tomorrow she's going to show me more of Rubic City.

But the truth is, I'm not here to sightsee. I'm not here to learn about the wonders of Lifelight or tour the city or take a trip into my own fantasies. I'm here to find out what evil Saint Dane has brought to this territory. After seeing what happened with the jumper, I have the sick feeling that I just got my first taste of it.

So I'll sign off now. This is the end of my Journal #13. By the time I record #14, I should have more answers. Good-bye, guys. I miss you.

END OF JOURNAL #13

SECOND EARTH

After a quick good-bye wave,
Bobby's image disappeared in a flicker, leaving Mark and Courtney staring into the empty space of her father's workshop. Neither could say anything. They had been watching Bobby's story unfold before them, spoken by Bobby himself. It was like he had been standing in front of them, in the flesh.

“Well,” Courtney said after several silent seconds. “That was …
different
.”

“I can't imagine something like Lifelight being real,” Mark said thoughtfully. He reached forward and picked up the silver, credit card-size projector. He turned it over in his hand, inspecting it. “Then again, I can't imagine something like this, either, so what the heck do I know?”

“Do you think Saint Dane sabotaged Lifelight?” Courtney asked.

“That's my guess,” Mark answered. “But I'll bet it's not as simple as that. Man, what I wouldn't give to try it out.”

“What would you do?”

“A million things,” Mark answered quickly. “I'd ride a horse. I've always wanted to do that. I'd fly an airplane, and play in a rock band, and run the New York marathon.”

“But you can do all that for real,” said Courtney.

Mark shrugged. It didn't feel to him as if any of those things were within his reach. “What would
you
do?” he asked Courtney.

Without hesitation Courtney said, “I'd put some major whup-ass on that soccer team.”

Mark said, “Same thing, you can do that for real.”

Like Mark, Courtney shrugged. Her confidence was so low, the idea of putting major whup-ass on anybody seemed like a fantasy. Mark then looked back at the silver hologram projector. A thought came to him, and he frowned.

“What?” Courtney asked.

“This is wrong,” Mark answered. “Bobby shouldn't have sent this to us.”

“Why not? It beats having to read the journals.”

“But he's not supposed to mix things from other territories,” Mark answered while fingering the device nervously. “It's totally against the rules.”

“We'll put it in the safe-deposit box at the bank,” Courtney offered. “Nobody will ever see it.”

“Good idea. I'll go first thing after school tomorrow,” Mark said. “Man, why didn't Bobby think of this?”

“Maybe they don't use paper on Veelox. It might have been the only way he could send a journal.”

“Still,” Mark said. “It might cause—”

Mark's ring started to twitch. He stopped talking and held his hand up.

“You're kidding?” Courtney said with surprise. “That was fast!”

Mark stared at the ring quizzically. “It feels different” was all he could say.

He quickly took off the ring and put it on the table. Courtney stood next to him and the two gazed at it. Normally when one of Bobby's journals was arriving, the gray stone in the center of the ring would turn crystal clear. The band would then grow and the journal would arrive in a flash of light and music. But that wasn't happening this time. The large gray stone didn't change. But something else did.

Engraved in the silver band and circling the stone was a series of odd characters. Each symbol was unique, with no apparent pattern. When Mark first got the ring he did a search on the Internet, thinking he could decipher them. But he came up empty. After tons of research there was only one thing he knew for sure: The symbols had no relation to any language or culture on Earth.

Now one of those symbols was starting to glow. It was as if there were a light inside the ring, shining out through the engraving. The glowing symbol was nothing more than a squiggle with a straight line passing through it. Mark and Courtney watched, dumbfounded, as the ring finally began to grow.

“Something's coming in,” Mark gasped. “I think.”

The ring didn't grow as large as usual. But they heard the familiar jumble of sweet notes that accompanied every trip. The light from the symbol then flashed across the room, momentarily blinding Mark and Courtney. A second later they looked back at the ring. As always, the event was over quickly. The ring had returned to normal. No more light, no more sound, nothing unusual …

Except for what the ring had deposited. It wasn't a journal. It was an envelope. A regular old white, Second Earth-style envelope.

“What is it?” Courtney asked.

“It's an envelope,” answered Mark.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Duh. Why did Bobby send us an envelope?”

Mark cautiously leaned over and picked up the piece of mail. He turned it over, examining it. There was nothing weird about it. It was sealed, with no writing on the outside. Courtney gave Mark a nod of encouragement and he carefully opened it, trying not to rip it more than he had to. Inside was a piece of plain white paper.

“I don't think this is from Bobby,” Mark announced.

Courtney looked at the page. There was handwriting on it, and it was definitely not Bobby's. Bobby wrote in a kind of classic script. This note was written with block letters. It was actually jittery looking, as if the person who wrote it didn't have a sure hand. The note was simple. It was an address.

“‘Four twenty-nine Amsterdam Place. Apartment Five-A. New York City,'” Mark read aloud. “You know anybody who lives there?”

“No,” Courtney answered. “Why would Bobby send us an address? With no explanation?”

Mark suddenly looked up, as if he were hit with an idea.

“What?” asked Courtney.

“Could it be?” he asked, half to himself, half to Courtney.

“Could it be what?” Courtney asked, growing impatient.

Mark looked at the address again, then back at the ring. “Could this be about the acolytes?”

Courtney deflated. This wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. “Are you still on that kick?” She plopped back down onto the couch.

Mark was gaining energy. “I asked Bobby to find out about the acolytes. Maybe this is his way of pointing us in the right direction!”

“I don't want to hear about it,” Courtney said sharply.

“You promised you'd think about it,” Mark shot back at her.

“I did. I decided I don't want to hear about it.”

“But this could be our chance to help Bobby, for real!”

“Mark, I've got enough stuff to worry about.”

Mark didn't back down. “Like what?” he asked sarcastically.
“Soccer?”

It was like Mark had flashed a red cape in front of an angry bull. Courtney jumped to her feet. “Yes, soccer!”

In the past Mark would have backed off when faced with Courtney's rage. But not this time. He stood his ground. “How can you care about stupid sports when there's so much more important stuff going on?”

“It's important to me!” Courtney defended herself.

“But it's just a game!” Mark countered.

“It's not! Can't you see that? I've never failed, Mark. Never. You just can't relate!”

Mark stiffened. “Why? Because I'm used to failure?”

Courtney forced herself to calm down and speak with more control. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.” She sat back down on the soft couch and took a deep breath. “It's not just about soccer,” she continued. “Everybody's got a role. You know? An identity. I liked mine. I liked how people looked up to me. But after what's been going on the past few days, I'm beginning to think I might not be the person I thought I was.”

“Courtney,” Mark said with sympathy. “It's just a
game
.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Courtney said. “But who knows what might turn up tomorrow? It's the first time I've doubted myself. Ever.”

Mark thought for a moment, then picked up the silver hologram projector and the envelope with the address, and put them in his backpack.

“I'm sorry, Courtney,” Mark said. “I hear what you're saying about roles and stuff. I always thought mine was to be the lamewad who everybody made fun of. But I'm beginning to think I'm better than that. You might not be the person you thought you were either, and maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe it means you've got more important things to do.”

Courtney gave Mark a quick look; then Mark headed for the stairs. “Tomorrow's Friday,” he said. “I'll put this stuff in the safe-deposit box at the bank. On Saturday I'm going to the address on this paper. I hope you come with me, but I'll understand if you don't.”

Mark left her alone in the basement.

The next day in school Mark and Courtney had no contact. Mark met with Mr. Pike about Sci-Clops and was given a schedule of meetings for the rest of the semester. He tried to be enthused about it, but it was hard to focus. All he could think about was being on the verge of a much bigger adventure.

When school was over, Mark went to the National Bank of Stony Brook on the Ave. The pruny Ms. Jane Jansen brought him into the vault where he deposited the projector that held Bobby's Journal #13 in the same safe box where he was keeping Journals #1-12. He didn't put the mysterious slip of paper with the New York address in the box though. He needed that.

As for Courtney, sheƍd made the tough decision and took the demotion to play for the junior varsity. Her plan was to prove herself so superior that Coach Horkey would have no choice but to bring her right back up to the varsity.

Things didn't work out that way. It was clear from Friday's practice that she was one of the better girls on the team, but definitely not the best. She didn't let it get to her though. She wouldn't go so far as to accept her fate, but forced herself to try and make the best of it. At least for the time being.

The next day, Saturday, Mark got up early and told his parents he was going to take the train into New York City to go to a science museum. He was old enough to do that on his own now. Taking the train into the city was easy. The station was at the bottom of Stony Brook Avenue, a short distance from Mark's house. He checked the schedule and planned on catching the 8:05 local that would get him into Grand Central Station around 9 A.M. He figured that would leave him plenty of time to go to the address on the note and be back home before dinner.

He was hoping to get a call from Courtney, but that call didn't come, and he wasn't going to beg. So he found himself early Saturday morning standing on the train platform, alone, ready to begin the next chapter in the adventure that had begun so long ago when Bobby first left home.

The train pulled into the station and the doors opened quietly. During the week this train would be packed with commuters headed in to work. But on Saturday not many people took the train, so Mark pretty much had the car to himself. He picked a seat directly in the middle because he knew it was the smoothest ride. He threw his backpack in the overhead rack, then plunked down into the seat.

“What's the matter?” came a voice from the seat behind him. “Don't want to sit with me?”

Mark spun in surprise to see …

Courtney.

“I called your house,” she said. “Just missed you. Your mom told me you were catching this train. I got on one stop back.”

“You sure about this?” he asked cautiously.

“No, but who else is going to watch your back?” she answered with a smile.

Mark broke out in a huge grin and moved into the seat next to her. For the time being, they were a team again. As the train took them into the city, they talked about everything except the mysterious note. It wasn't that they were avoiding the subject, it was more that they had no idea what to expect on Amsterdam Place.

They arrived in Grand Central Station and went right to the subway. Courtney knew that Amsterdam Place was on the upper East Side of Manhattan, so a quick scan of the subway map showed them the trains they had to take. The ride took twenty minutes, with only one change. Soon enough they found themselves emerging from the underground station on Amsterdam Place. Mark double-checked the building number, 429, and they walked two more blocks north.