15
BLUEBIRD_OFDEATH
The sudden exit shook my processors.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” I muttered. I rolled my wheelchair to my third computer and typed as quickly as I could.
My VR glasses blurred like I’d stepped back through a window. I adjusted my visor, flexed my hands in the sensor gloves, and turned up the volume, but the game had shut me out again. The best I could do was smudge my nose against the barrier.
I should have been using real equipment, controls that tingled in my hands. If I had the real stuff, I’d be able to help him, but I’d had the bright idea to tell my parents.
It was one thing to sneak off to the studios for testing, because I lived local, so I could take the bus home every night. But once the game started, I’d have been away full-time for nearly a month. I didn’t want my family to worry, or drag me back home.
But that’s exactly what they did. Right in the middle of the selection party. I’d rolled out to gather my awkward self because I knew I was about to actually meet Grigfen for the first time and the idea made my insides go all woohawoohawoohah, and there were my parents, mad as I’d ever seen them.
I didn’t even get the chance to meet Grig.
I pulled off the duct tape and the homemade diodes stuck to my temples. I blinked a couple of times in order to see my bedroom. This was real life, where my subscriptions to Wired and Teen Vogue were delivered, and where I hid a twelve-pack of Mountain Dew under my desk. The world of the game was such vivid multicolor that real life was stick-figure scribbles in comparison.
Maybe that was because Grig was still in there.
Or, you know, maybe it was the drab, gray paint color I’d chosen for my bedroom. Mom had punched it up with a teal comforter and designer accessories, but the only thing I liked about my room were the decoupage birds hanging from the ceiling that I’d hot glued plastic vampire teeth on.
Those were pretty rad.
What had kicked me out of the game?
The scrambler should have hidden my whereabouts, but the securities team at Stonebright wasn’t like my online school’s private server, and I really wasn’t trained for this.
But I’d set up a warning system to guard for the team at Stonebright, and none of my sirens had gone off. Not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If it was a good thing, I was a hacking genius and no one knew what I was doing. Bad thing, they’d already found me and I’d have no warning.
It was the Schrödinger’s cat of good/bad things.
Someone knocked on my door.
“Not now, Mom! I’m in the middle of something.” I was pretty sure I could check for—
“Zoe?!” It was my sister.
She rapped on the door again and I lost all my civility. “I swear on a stack of comics, if you bang on the door one more time I’m…” I rolled my wheelchair to unlock my fortress of solitude and slushies with the clear intent to break my big sister’s pretty white teeth.
Except.
Oh no.
It wasn’t just Abigail at the door.
Nao Freaking Takagi stood next to her.
I blinked.
There was a good chance my parents might find out about the overages on my data plan.
I gripped my power chair controller and rolled my chair backward. Nao Freaking Takagi folded her arms. Strands of hair slipped from her loose braid and her elegant blouse wrinkled at the waist, but compared to my stained pajama pants and tank top, she seemed way too fancy for my suburban bedroom.
“Bluebird of Death, I presume.”
OH MY GALAGA, NAO FREAKING TAKAGI KNOWS MY NAME.
Breathe, Bluebird. Now was not the time to ask for a selfie.
“May I come in?” Nao F. Takagi asked.
A tiny part of me realized I’d yet to move or speak, and that was what the cool kids call social ineptitude, so I twitched a nod and rolled out of her way. “Hello, Ms. Takagi. May I ask what this visit is … okay, no there’s no way you’re going to buy that. If you’re here in my house then you know who I am, and what I’ve done, so I’m going to stop talking now, or now adjacent, and aw dang, is that the head of security?”
Yup. Totally that was the massive muscle-having suit-wearing head of Stonebright’s security. In my hallway.
Silver lining: not the feds.
Nao F. Takagi entered the fortress of solitude and slushies and plucked the diode I’d made with my soldering iron from my sloppy desk. I wiped my nose with my thumb as she opened my laptop. It popped to life right on the feed of Grig’s face.
And that was not embarrassing at all.
Nao F. Takagi smiled. “I’d thought it was a shame when your parents refused to sign the release form and pulled you from the game, but now I’m grateful.”
“You’re not mad? I broke into your game.”
“Why would I be mad? You’ve only done what I’ve been trying to do. The source code glitch blocked all my back doors. Except one. Because your character was coded into the game, you’re the only one who has been able to break in. And now I need your help.”
I pulled my pajama pants to the side in a curtsy. Not too shabby for a self-taught sixteen-year-old.
“Zoe?” Mom interrupted from the doorway. She wore her work clothes, freshly glossed lips, and an expression that could melt a hard drive. “Why is there a bearded white man in my front room?” She paused when she saw I wasn’t alone. She offered Ms. Takagi a hand and a warm fake smile. “Hello. I’m Zoe’s mother, and who might you be?”
Mom didn’t seem to notice the cover of Wired magazine stapled to the wall with Ms. Takagi’s mirror image on it.
“I’m Nao Takagi.” Ms. Takagi met warm smile for warm smile. “We spoke quite forcefully on the phone a week ago.”
Mom lost the game of Fake Smile Chicken. “Oh. You’re from that game?”
“Yes, the one your daughter is still so very interested in.” Ms. Takagi turned the laptop until the screen faced my mother. Oh no. “I’m here to offer your daughter an internship at my company, as clemency for a series of crimes she’s committed against us, including—”
An internship? “There’s no need to give a laundry list of—”
“Theft, breaking digital copyright protections, securities fraud, and lying on an entrance form.”
I clenched my eyes closed. “Technically that’s not illegal.”
Ms. Takagi raised a polished eyebrow. “It’s an opportunity of a lifetime. Our internship programs feeds right into the company and into top colleges. We have thousands of applicants, and Zoe was among the final selection. And the fact she’s been able to hack around our security system makes it clear we either recruit her now, or we’ll all work for her later.”
My mom stared at me. “But she’s sixteen. And—”
Ms. Takagi’s eyes tightened. “Exactly. It’s quite an accomplishment. I’ve personally read her transcripts. She’s not being challenged by her online school. This is an opportunity for her to reach her full potential. Of course if you prefer, she can face the charges against her.”
Funny, the articles didn’t mention Ms. Takagi dabbled in blackmail.
My mother folded her arms. It would take more than this to threaten a black mom with a disabled child. “Is this dangerous?”
I wanted to know the answer to that one too.
Ms. Takagi laughed. “Of course it isn’t dangerous. It’s training to become a video game designer. She’s a smart girl.” She’s right here. I didn’t say anything, though, because I was penciling these compliments into my dream journal. “I believe we’ve caught her at a crossroads between a possible life of cybercrime and a chance at an extraordinary career. But as she’s a minor, she will need your permission.”
Good luck, Ms. Takagi.
Mom pinched her lips. “How long would she be gone?”
Halle-fricken-lujah. “Just twelve days, Mom.”
Ms. Takagi shook her head. “Three days at most. It’s a weekend immersion program, where she’ll shado
w some of the best in her field. She’ll stay in our on-campus housing with world-class medical facilities. And of course she’ll be permitted as much contact with you as you would like.”
I shot her a look. There should be twelve days until the game shut down.
Ms. Takagi wouldn’t meet my eyes.
This was worse than I expected …
I propped up my elbow on my desk and pushed up my glasses. “I want to go, Mom. This game. I can’t even explain how much I love it, how hard I’ve worked to try to be a part of it, and to be right there watching how they do it will teach me more than years at college. Please. It’s three days, and it could change my whole life. You always tell me that there’s nothing I can’t do. Please let me do this.”
My mom closed her eyes and tapped her fingers against her legs. Behind her Ms. Takagi clenched her hands tight.
Mom opened her eyes and moved toward me. “I don’t like that you broke the law, Zoe. This is not a reward, and we will be talking about the consequences when you get back.” I nodded and she smiled. “Then, if you want to, I give my permission.”
Just kidding. She didn’t say that. It took about twenty minutes of pure flattery on Ms. Takagi’s part, and about twenty minutes of me reminding my mom that opportunities like this one were limited before she finally relented.
I swallowed. But I couldn’t take it back. I wanted to be the one to save Grig. And I could see the pride in my mom’s eyes. Usually she saw me as something fragile. My mom told me I could be anything I wanted to be, but she always seemed so surprised whenever I tried.
I turned to Ms. Takagi. “I would love to help with this very serious project. Thank you for your kind offer.”
“Good. Welcome to the team.”
She left to speak with the head of security, and my mom bent and kissed my forehead.
“Mom,” I said.
“Oh, sorry.” Mom rubbed the lip gloss off my forehead because I couldn’t take it off without a mirror and somewhere to prop my elbow.
“Zoe?” Ms. Takagi called.
Apparently they wanted me to start right now.
That wasn’t worry making at all.
* * *
Nao Freaking Takagi opened the rear door to her luxury SUV and tossed my bag into the back. I grasped the powerchair controller and drove from the front door down the ramp toward the vehicle. My mom and sister waved at me from the door, while the head of security watched me like he’d like to lock me up for breaking through their technical defenses. I thought, briefly, of abandoning my duffel bag and rolling back into my mommy’s arms. How much did I like those clothes?
“Do you need help?” Ms. Takagi asked me when my chair stopped a few feet away from the door. My parents usually parked in the driveway, and when my friends picked me up, usually someone offered an arm to lean on. But getting help from Ms. Takagi meant admitting to my idol Ms. Takagi that I needed help. I thought about Grig and sighed. Every time I think I’ve spent the last of my pride, it reanimates in time to pay up again.
“Yeah.” The step from the curb to the SUV was a little too far for me to climb in by myself. I planted my feet on the ground and struggled to bear my body weight through my unsteady legs. Ms. Takagi pressed her hand at my back as I walked. I gripped the door to hold me steady, but my knees buckled beneath me and I half fell into the seat from the force.
I wouldn’t get top scores for the landing, but I’d made it into the car.
Mostly.
“Can I help you in anyway? Perhaps lift your legs into the car?” she offered, because clearly she’d noticed how tired the transfer had made me.
I could have done it. I still have that ability, but the exertion necessary would mean I wouldn’t have the energy I’d need later.
“Yes,” I said, resigned. “Thank you.”
She lifted my feet into the car. I settled into the passenger seat as she pulled the seat belt down. I grabbed it once it was low enough and fastened it myself. I watched as Ms. Takagi pushed my wheelchair to the back of the SUV. My mom couldn’t help herself and all but ran down the driveway to take over. A slight tension in my neck relaxed. My wheelchair, which I called Voyager, both for the NASA implications, and also for Star Trek reasons, was more expensive than my dad’s car and the idea that it could be damaged set my already nervous system into hyperdrive. Voyager was my ticket to freedom; it was like another part of me. My mom made sure it was loaded correctly and that the extra battery was charged, and then she had to come kiss my cheek one more time and to ask about the level of care at the facility and if they’d have any mobility devices ready and then about the accessibility of Stonebright’s campus and seriously she would never let us leave.
“Mom,” I said. If she kept talking, she would talk herself out of letting me go. “I’m fine.”
She stood and waved as Ms. Takagi shut her door.
We nodded at each other, both of us trying to hide our nerves.
The car hummed and pulled forward, blasting pop music from the radio. Ms. Takagi always seemed so posh and elegant. Weird she’d be so interested in a former member of a boy band. The head of security followed behind us in a shiny car.
“What’s really happening?” I asked.
Her knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. “There’s something wrong with the game. The source code has corrupted and now the players are trapped. At first I could get in. As soon as I realized the source code was deteriorating, I found a back door and tried to get Ryo out. Instead, I had to watch him die in the game. I watched my game hurt him, as the code corrupted even more. Eventually I couldn’t get back in, so I found another back door and sent a message through seer water to the next player to drink. But now even that back door has closed.”
“It’s okay, Ms. Takagi. I can still get in. And with your equipment, your gloriously not duct-taped equipment, I can do whatever you need.”
“There’s a chance you’ll get stuck in the game as well.” Her eyes clouded. “There’s a chance this could kill you.”
“What?”
She turned away. “There are so many lives to protect. I’m doing everything possible to get everyone out. But if you keep breaking in without our assistance, you will damage the source code further.”
I stared at the passing streets, hoping it was the speed that blurred the buildings and not tears.
“You’re so young. If there was any other choice, I’d keep you out of this. The last thing I want is to put another life at risk. I’ve tried to take over your avatar, but it’s biocoded to you. You are the only one who can get in there and help. I need you to go in there and give them a message. Ryo needs to drink the seer water and get game vision. I’ll help you. You won’t have to go through my security system. The team thinks we’ll be able to give your avatar the ability to speak. I’ll pull you out right after. If you get stuck in the game, you could be affected by the same glitch. There’s a chance you could feel pain. And if you do, there’s a chance that you could die.”
I swallowed. I’d faced worse odds every day of my life. “I want to help. I’ll be safe.”
She looked down at her hands. “But…”
I filled in those dots. “I have muscular dystrophy.”
“That only means I want to protect you more.”
I leaned back. They thought when I was younger I was only a carrier of the gene, but once I became symptomatic, everyone started treating me with kid gloves. When I was twelve, the muscles in my shoulders weakened until I could no longer raise my hands over my head. I used leg braces for a while, but then when my muscles wasted to the point where I couldn’t walk for more than ten minutes, I found my freedom in a wheelchair my mom had painted bright yellow.
I swear to Galaga, sometimes that’s the only thing people ever see of me.
“I want to help,” I said more softly.
Neither of us had much to say for the rest of the drive.
* * *
I’d been to Stonebright Studios before.
It was different coming here with the owner of the company and the head of security. At the entrance the focus was on Ms. Takagi, so I could check out the tech on desks, but as we moved deeper into the belly of the building, the lab coat people stopped watching Ms. Takagi, and their attention switched to the black girl in a wheelchair following behind her.
Meaning me.
Meaning everyone needed to turn their attention back to their own papers, thankyouverymuch.
I’d stepped inside the firewall now. And everyone I saw was doing everything possible to keep the players safe.
But they were also doing everything they could to keep this secret. The front desk had private security manning the doors, phone check-in, and full body scanners in front of the entrance.
The mood was somber. Urgent. Screens showed the game play of the world, places I’d stepped a virtual foot in and so many societies and side quests I hadn’t taken. I’d located Grig and read the code around him, but I hadn’t searched any of the other players. There were two with the Kneult, two with the Savak, and …
Where were the rest of the players?
Ms. Takagi cleared her throat.
I lowered my gaze to the ground and slipped behind her into her office. The ceiling of her office was impossibly high, with one wall made of glass and the city beyond it. At the center, a steel-framed chair glowed—her own personal gaming pod. There were massive monitors on the other three walls, two showing views of the game, the other four split to show different camera angles of her building.
And I thought I was paranoid.
“Here is where you’ll plug in. This is where I plugged in to play a Historian,” she said. “The restroom is through here, and there’s plenty of food in the mini-fridge.”
She touched the screen and the camera on her own office enlarged to full screen.
I touched the diodes and the visors. The tech in this room was a thing of beauty.
A white man knocked on the open door. I remembered him. Preston something. It’d be hard to forget someone so meticulous, from the sharp part in his hair, to his tailored suit and his trimmed nails. He was the CFO of Stonebright and he intimidated the crap out of me.
Glitch Kingdom Page 14
