by Mark Frost
Ajay and Will stopped a short distance away. Nick rushed back in with Elise’s tablet. She powered it up on the desk next to the others and moments later, Elise’s syn-app materialized with the others on the big screen.
“Elise” walked toward Ronnie and held out a hand. Ronnie took a step backward.
“You’re perfectly safe,” said Elise. “We won’t hurt you. Can you show me what you have there, Ronnie?”
Ronnie slowly opened his hand. A virtual flash drive rested on his palm. “Elise” took the object from him.
“Ajay,” said Elise. “See what that is.”
Her syn-app held out the flash drive behind her. “Ajay” darted over and took it like a relay baton. He took a virtual tablet from his backpack and inserted the drive into it, just as the real Ajay had with the real one.
“So let me see if I’ve got this straight,” said Will. “A virtual flash drive … inserted by a virtual character … into its virtual computer.”
“Think of it this way,” said Ajay quietly. “They’re all levels of the same file on a real flash drive, being read by a real computer. Now that we’ve cracked his puzzle, maybe this flash drive represents the final level and contains what Ronnie wanted us to see.”
But “Ajay” was frowning. He looked out at the real Ajay and shook his head.
“It’s not opening,” Ajay said. “We missed something.”
“Damn it,” said Elise under her breath.
The image of Beethoven’s salon disappeared and was replaced by the Himalayan meadow in front of the pagoda. Ronnie seemed more alert. “Elise” took his hand; this time Ronnie didn’t shrink away.
Will had an idea and leaned in past Elise toward the screen. “Ronnie, this is Elise,” said Will firmly. “She was your best friend.”
As he listened, Ronnie’s brow furrowed, in a struggle to comprehend.
“ ‘How do you measure the distance traveled by a smile?’ ” said Will.
The line sent a jolt through Ronnie. He turned, looked out at the real Elise, and seemed to recognize her. Ronnie reached out and Elise touched the screen. As their fingers met, Ronnie suddenly looked alert, revived, glowing with spirit.
“Show us what you hid on this drive, Ronnie,” said Elise. “Show us what you wanted us to see.”
Ronnie nodded, then pointed to the top of the screen. A moment later, an iron-banded transparent barrel dropped into the screen from above, landing with a heavy thud on the wooden bridge over the pond. The barrel began to fill with a viscous red liquid rising from the bottom.
“What’s that?” said Nick.
“It’s working,” said Ajay. “The file’s uploading to my tablet.”
Elise was still holding her hand to the screen, completely still, locked onto Ronnie. Will got the odd impression they were communicating without words.
“I think he’s a prisoner,” said Elise.
“What?” asked Nick. “How could you know that?”
“I just do,” she said. “I think what’s on there will tell us who did this to him.”
Ajay looked at Will with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll know soon enough,” he said, as the upload reached 50 percent.
Brooke had a funny look on her face. “Does anybody else hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Nick.
“Yes,” said Ajay. “It’s a—”
“Buzzing sound,” said Elise. “It’s coming from the image on-screen. Near the top of the mountain.”
Now Will could hear it, too.
It was a droning sound, and as they listened, it grew louder and more menacing. A trickle of scalloped black shadows dripped into the upper right corner of the screen and gyred lazily around, like cottonseeds blown by the wind. As they drifted toward the meadow, the shapes melded together into a pulsating mass that began to spin in place, counterclockwise, picking up force. The sky darkened as it gained strength and size, forming into a funnel cloud.
“What is that?” asked Nick.
“I think someone’s hacked into the program,” said Ajay.
“But how?” asked Brooke.
“I don’t know,” said Ajay. “We’re not online. It must be coming from one of our tablets.”
The syn-apps retreated toward the bottom of the screen. Will’s syn-app pulled a virtual Swiss Army knife from his pocket, expanded one of the blades, then stretched the handle out until it was as long as a harpoon.
“What’s your dude doing?” asked Nick.
“No idea,” said Will.
“I don’t like this,” said Elise. “We need to get out.”
Their eyes moved to the barrel, which had filled to nearly 90 percent.
“We almost have it,” said Ajay.
The surging vortex hit the ground, destroying everything it touched, tearing up the meadow, smashing through the pagoda. The syn-apps dodged a rain of debris.
“Ajay, it’s not safe—” said Brooke.
“If I terminate this download, we’ll lose what Ronnie wanted us to see,” said Ajay, “probably forever.”
Ronnie suddenly ran toward the cyclone. The syn-app shouted and waved his arms, then dashed away from the barrel. The twister changed direction and chased him.
“What the hell is he doing?” asked Nick.
“Buying us time,” said Will.
“Will” followed Ronnie toward the ledge they’d come in on. As the funnel cloud cornered Ronnie on the rocks, it morphed into a swarm of what looked like locusts. They descended on Ronnie and tore into him; he turned to Elise, his face a mask of pain. The pixels of his disintegrating image flew up into the cyclone.
“No!” shouted Elise.
As the funnel cloud consumed Ronnie’s syn-app, it took on the rough outline of his screaming face. “Will” reared back and cast his harpoon into the heart of the vortex; it swayed and weakened, but it was too late. Ronnie’s cries faded as the ravenous swarm swallowed the last of him.
The barrel on the screen filled, crimson slopping into the pond.
“We’ve got it,” said Ajay. “Shut down!”
“Shut down!” said Elise and Will.
Their tablets powered off. The syn-apps vanished and all their screens went blank. At that same moment, the lights in the room flickered and dimmed, then went out, plunging them into darkness.
Nick rushed to the window. “The whole campus is dark!”
“A power failure,” said Ajay, stepping beside him. “But campus-wide? Never seen that before.”
Will turned his tablet back on, and the room filled with ghostly light. Will’s syn-app appeared on-screen, holding his Swiss Army harpoon.
“You should have let me run that security check, Will,” the syn-app said.
“Will” raised the harpoon and showed them a creature impaled on the blade, a black beetle the size of a small dog, covered with coarse black hairs. It had distorted semihuman features on its hideous, squashed face.
“What the hell is that?” asked Nick.
“A virus infected your tablet,” said Will’s syn-app. “Origin unknown.”
“Will” shoved the bug toward the edge of the screen. A port opened on that side of Will’s tablet and the body of an identical bug—this one an inch long—plopped out onto the desk.
Brooke turned pale. “That’s what went after Ronnie?”
“So it appears,” said Ajay. He used a pencil to sweep the dead bug into an empty Altoids tin.
“Run the rest of that check now,” said Will to his syn-app.
“Can do,” said the syn-app.
“Where did this come from?” asked Elise, staring at the bug.
“Lyle,” said Will.
“Dude, Lyle’s trunk, these things were in those boxes,” said Nick, staring wide-eyed at the dead bug.
“This is how he was watching me,” said Will. “How he knew about my phone and our visit to their locker room.”
“But where did Lyle get it?” asked Brooke.
“The same place all the rest of them came fro
m,” said Will.
“The Never-Was.”
Ajay activated his tablet. His syn-app held up a large file icon. “It’s intact; we’ve got Ronnie’s file,” said Ajay, excited. Then to his syn-app, “Open it.”
The screen opened to the grainy image of a video file, with a PLAY arrow in its center. They appeared to be looking through a hole into a dimly lit room, where a briefcase sat on a bench, with documents visible inside. There was a time stamp in the corner.
“It seems to be a video,” said Ajay, reading the time stamp. “Shot last April.”
“That’s the auxiliary locker room,” said Will, leaning in. “I think we’re looking out through one of the lockers.”
Ajay clicked the PLAY button. The image jumbled around a bit; then a face slid into view: Ronnie Murso.
“Auxiliary locker room,” whispered Ronnie. “Watch this.”
The image moved as Ronnie, camera in hand, stepped out of the locker into the room. He moved to the briefcase and rummaged around. Ronnie pulled out a thick gray metallic rod, held it up to the lens, then spoke into the lens again: “I think this is what they use to—”
He looked toward the door in alarm, as if he’d heard something outside. He dropped the rod into the briefcase, hurried back into the locker, and closed the door. He put the camera lens up to the hole in the locker looking into the room again.
A tall, heavyset man wearing a dark suit and hat entered the room. They couldn’t see his face. “Put it here,” he said.
Lyle Ogilvy followed him in, laboring as he carried a black metal footlocker like the one Will and Nick had seen in Lyle’s closet. He set it on the bench beside the briefcase. The man took three things out of the briefcase and set them on the bench: the metal rod, a rectangular silver box with some writing on it, and a rolled-up sheet of thin metal. He unrolled the metal first. It was poster-sized and covered with strange glyphs.
“We saw that on the wall,” said Nick. “In Lyle’s closet.”
“Did they show you how to use this?” the man asked Lyle.
“Yes, sir,” said Lyle.
The man picked up the rod. “What about the Carver?”
“No, not yet,” said Lyle.
“We only have two of them. You’d better take care of it,” said the man as he checked some kind of gauge on the rod’s side. “It takes time to build up a charge. Give me a canister.”
Lyle opened the footlocker. Inside they saw rows of the same black carbon-fiber containers they’d seen in Lyle’s closet. Lyle removed one of the thermos-sized ones. The man activated something on the metal rod he’d called the Carver; a line of glyphs on the rod lit up and the tip of it glowed white-hot.
“They’re called by the glyphs,” said the man. “The holes are unstable and only stay up long enough for one to cross over. Make sure you use the right-sized canister. Open it.”
Lyle slid open the end of the canister. His hands were shaking. The man raised the Carver and pressed some of its glowing glyphs, in order, as if entering some kind of code.
“Hold it flush to the hole or you’ll lose a hand,” said the man.
The white tip of the rod grew blindingly bright, illuminating the man’s face for the first time. Will gasped.
It was the Bald Man, the one he’d seen at his house with the other Black Caps.
Using both hands, the man moved the tip of the rod in a tight circle, which traced and then carved open a small hole in the air. “Now,” said the Bald Man. “Quickly.”
Grimacing, Lyle held the open canister up to the hole, covering it. The canister jerked as something appeared to slip through the hole and into the container.
“Close it!” shouted the man.
Lyle snapped the lid shut. The camera suddenly jolted, as if Ronnie had lost his balance.
“What was that?” said the Bald Man.
The screen went dark as the video ended abruptly.
“Oh my God,” said Brooke, sitting down. “Oh my God.”
“That’s the leader of the men who were chasing me in California,” said Will. “Do any of you recognize him?”
They all shook their heads.
“Damn, Ronnie,” said Nick.
“That’s why they took him,” said Elise grimly. “They knew what he’d seen.”
“But not before he had time to bury that video in all of this and leave it behind,” said Ajay.
“Lyle has that same footlocker in his room,” said Nick. “And, dude, the canisters are full.”
“I want to check something else,” said Ajay. He reversed the video to the moment when the Bald Man set the metallic box on the table. “There was some writing on that box. Isolate and enhance.”
The image tightened and clarified around the silver box on the table. It was about the size of a legal pad. The writing on its surface was engraved in the metal:
THE PALADIN PROPHECY
IV
“What’s the Paladin Prophecy?” Ajay wondered aloud.
“Those other letters don’t spell anything,” said Nick.
“Those are Roman numerals,” said Elise.
“Were the Romans all stupid or what? Why didn’t they just use numbers?”
Elise and Ajay looked at each other and shook their heads.
“Nineteen ninety,” said Brooke, looking at the screen. “And four.”
“Does this mean anything to anyone?” asked Ajay.
Everyone shook their head.
“Bring your tablet, Ajay, and everybody grab a flashlight,” said Will, determined. “We’re going to track down Lyle, right now, show him this, and nail him to a wall until he tells us what he knows.”
Lights had gone out all over the campus. Will noticed a cascade of white falling outside the windows, glowing in the pale light of the moon. Using flashlights, the five roommates made their way down to the first floor. A lot of students were poking around, buzzing about the blackout and the coming storm. There was just enough confusion for them to slip unnoticed into the outer room of Lyle’s suite.
Will listened at the door but heard nothing. Nick picked the lock again and moved inside. Lyle’s rooms were empty, and the vile smell was gone. Will quickly moved to the open closet door and searched inside.
“Everything’s cleared out,” said Will.
“So’s Lyle,” said Nick.
THE MEDICAL CENTER
As they reentered the pod, the black phone by the fireplace in the great room shattered the silence. Ajay walked over and answered.
Ajay listened, then turned to Will. “For you.”
Will took the receiver. “This is Will.”
“Hold, please, for Headmaster Rourke,” said an operator.
Will mouthed “Rourke” to the others. Then Rourke came on the line: “Good evening, Will.”
“Hello, sir.”
“The storm took out a relay station to the east of us,” said Rourke. “The whole area’s lost power. We’ll have emergency generators up shortly. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
“Okay.”
“I got a call a short time ago from your parents. Don’t be alarmed, Will, nothing to worry about. They’re flying in for a visit tomorrow afternoon.”
“Really.” So Brooke was right. They know I’m here now. Will’s stomach flipped. “That’s great news.”
“They asked if you could clear your schedule.”
Will swallowed hard. “I will. Thanks for letting me know, sir.”
“How’s the rest of your week gone? Enjoying yourself so far?”
“Yes,” said Will, looking at his roommates. “Never a dull moment.”
Will hung up and told the others just as the lights came back on.
“What are you going to do?” asked Elise.
“I don’t know,” said Will. “I want to think about all of this before we do anything. It’s late. Let’s get some rest.”
“Everyone give me your tablets first,” said Ajay. “I want to run tests and make sure they’re all clean.”
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“I’ll stand sentry,” said Nick. “In case Lyle or any of his goons try anything.”
With tired farewells, the roommates headed for their separate rooms. Will tossed in bed for an hour. His parents were on their way, and he had to assume they were bringing the Black Caps with them. What did these people want? Dave had talked about a war between the Hierarchy and the Never-Was, but what did it have to do with him?
The words they’d seen on that silver box kept kicking around in his mind: The Paladin Prophecy. They didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed to be more evidence that somehow the school or some faction within it was involved.
Will managed a couple of hours’ sleep, then relieved Nick at the door just after dawn on Saturday morning. Will was getting ready to leave for the medical center just before eight, when Brooke came out of her room, dressed for cold weather, crisp and purposeful.
“I’m going to the library,” she said. “Walk out with me?”
“Did you sleep?” asked Will as they headed out of the pod and down the stairs.
“Are you kidding? After all that? Where are you headed?”
“Kujawa’s going to run some tests at the medical center,” said Will. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“At least one of us should go with you,” she said.
“I’ll be okay. It’s Kujawa and Robbins. I trust them.”
“I do, too,” she said. “But I still want security to take you over there. Have you thought about what you’re going to tell them about Lyle?”
“Not a lot,” said Will. “Enough to get them looking for him.”
“Will, be careful,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “I trust Robbins, too, but it’s impossible to know who might be part of this.”
“Agreed,” said Will. “Do you know anything about who owns the Center?”
“A private trust called the Greenwood Foundation,” she said. “Named for the founder, Thomas Greenwood.”
“Who runs it?” asked Will.
“A board of directors—CEOs, philanthropists. All high-powered alumni. My dad used to be on it. I can’t believe they’d be involved in anything like this.” She chewed on her lip. “What are we going to do when your so-called parents get here?”
She said we. “I haven’t worked that out yet,” said Will.
