Mission to the Moon

by Mark Cheverton

  Carefully, he opened the chest and peered inside. Before him lay what he was searching for: the designs for the next rocket. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “This rocket will let me get even deeper into the cosmos,” Entity303 said; he loved the sound of his own voice. “And the closer I get to the edge of Minecraft, the more destruction I can cause.”

  He reached into the chest and withdrew the plans, the parchment crackling as if it were ancient. Stuffing it into his inventory, he slammed the lid shut, dust rising from the chest. He chuckled a maniacal laugh that echoed off the stone walls and reflected back to him from all sides. It made it seem almost as if he were at the center of a huge party, though only he was in attendance.

  “Those programmers destroyed my reputation by firing me from the Minecraft development team,” Entity303 said. “I lost all my friends and associates. I lost everything. Now, I’m going to teach them what that feels like. Soon, those who fired me will feel my pain.”

  Moving to a corner of the room, Entity303 put away his sword and pulled out a diamond pickaxe. It sparkled with enchantments, casting a glow on his yeti armor. He removed his chest plate and stuffed it into his inventory, then pulled out a jetpack and quickly put his arms through the straps.

  “It’s time to get out of here,” he said.

  Stuffing the piece of paper in his inventory, he activated his rocket pack. With tongues of flame shooting out behind him, he floated to the ceiling. Swinging the pickaxe with all his strength, he dug straight up. Normally, in Minecraft, that was a bad thing to do, digging straight up, but on the Moon there was no gravel or sand or lava, making it completely safe. He carved his way upward until he finally pierced the last layers of moon dirt and moon stone, and shot up into the star-speckled dark sky.

  Turning off the jet pack, he slowly settled to the ground. As he descended, Entity303 gave himself the smallest of nudges with the jet pack, carrying him back toward his hastily constructed base. But as he approached, he could see footsteps leading to his base, then heading away toward the distant village of aliens.

  “Huh … it seems that the pathetic User-that-is-not-a-user, Gameknight999, survived Iago and the monsters in Mystcraft after all,” Entity303 said to the empty landscape. “He must have followed me here into space. But where did he get his own rocket ship?” And then he realized who must have helped him. “Iago,” he said, then laughed it off. “So what? All the better. Let him watch the destruction of Minecraft from the cold emptiness of outer space.”

  Turning off his jetpack, he landed on the ground and moved to his NASA workbench. Long, gangly arms stuck up out of the bench, apparently designed to hold the device being constructed. He placed the tier-two rocket schematic on the bench. Instantly, the space ship was unlocked, allowing him to begin crafting.

  “Now I’m glad I didn’t destroy all the monster spawners down in that dungeon,” Entity303 said as he fitted the rocket fins and hull plating to the rocket. “When the Moon Boss respawns, I bet he’ll be especially angry after he realizes I looted his chest … good. Maybe he’ll take it out on Gameknight and his annoying friends.”

  He put the last touches on the rocket, then moved his new ship from the workbench to the launch pad that sat outside his bubble of air. Quickly, he put his oxygen tanks in the compressor and topped them off, filling them to the brim with life-sustaining air. Putting the oxygen gear back on, he used his pickaxe on the compressor, bubble distributor, and oxygen collector, breaking them down so he could place them back into his inventory. He then took all the pipes and leaves, too.

  “No sense leaving anything behind that’ll help my adversaries,” he said with a sneer. “Though, maybe I can leave behind one little present.”

  Entity303 reached into his inventory and pulled out a spawner he’d been holding onto for a while. It was a creeper spawner: a dark cage able to bring the explosive creatures to life, complete with space helmets and oxygen gear.

  He placed it on the ground, then backed away. Instantly, a tiny green figure began to spin within the spawner. The monster slowly grew in size, but would take a while before it was ready to come forth and wreak havoc. Moving to his ship, the evil user climbed in and closed the hatch.

  “I hope you have enough air, Gameknight999,” Entity303 said with a laugh, then climbed into his ship. “See you on Mars, User-that-is-not-a-user. That is, if you manage to get off the moon … alive.”

  And with that thought, he pressed the large red button on the control panel and blasted off into the inky black sky.

  CHAPTER 3

  ALIENS

  They crossed the dull gray wasteland in leaps and bounds. With the reduced gravity, a jump into the air caused each of them to soar six times higher. It was fun at first, but Gameknight quickly became frustrated.

  “I just want to sprint, not fly,” the User-that-is-not-a-user complained.

  “When you had Elytra wings, all you wanted to do was fly,” Hunter chided. “Now you can fly anytime you want, and you want to stay on the ground. Sometimes, I think you like suffering.”

  She cast him a sarcastic smile as she soared over his head. Gameknight watched as she did a few graceful flips, then landed delicately on the dusty ground. He moved up next to her, loping along in lock step.

  “Did you see any monsters while you were up there?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yep, they’re all over the place, but fortunately, none are nearby … for now.”

  “I hope it stays that way,” Gameknight replied .

  “Not likely.” Hunter replied lightly as she leapt into the air again, her joyous giggles muffled slightly by her glass helmet.

  Gameknight looked up at his friend and smiled. Her long, curly red hair was trapped inside the space helmet; the curls were pressed up against the transparent cube, piling up around her ears and the back of her head as if they were trying to break free. The crimson locks bounced about when she ran, but floated, weightless, as she soared through the air. It reminded him of the box of springs his dad kept in their basement, which at the moment was probably just a few feet from his unconscious body in the physical world.

  “Gameknight, Weaver said something,” Herder said, glancing over his shoulder. “You listening? Are you awake?”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking,” the User-that-is-not-a-user replied, chagrined. “What did he say?”

  “I said, ‘The village is just over this hill,’” Weaver shouted from atop a huge mound of moon rocks.

  Gameknight ran to the top of the hill and gazed down at the village. He was shocked at what he found. Instead of a collection of square homes with pointed roofs, it was a group of pale domes, each identical in size and shape. They were clearly made from the same material as the landscape, pale gray moonstone. The curved buildings merged in with the land around them, making them difficult to see from a distance. However, the farms were easy to spot. The brown soil and green stalks of wheat stood out in sharp contrast to the mundane background. It was almost as if the color in the plants was somehow amplified, the greens and yellows and browns incredibly bright in comparison to the pallid, lunar landscape.

  “Come on, let’s go talk to them,” Gameknight said.

  Herder stepped to the User-that-is-not-a-user’s side and put a restraining hand on his arm, stopping him from running down the hill. Gameknight turned and looked at his friend just as the boy whistled. The shrill sound was muffled by the space helmet on his head, but it still carried. The wolves barked and ran to his side. He pointed to the distant village, signaling the wolves to go check it out first. The furry white protectors bounded down the hill and into the village, searching the community for threats. A minute later, the pack leader let out a majestic howl, signaling it was safe. With a nod, Herder ran down the hill, followed by Weaver; the two were now inseparable friends. Gameknight smiled and followed, the rest of the party close behind him.

  When they reached the domed structures, the place seemed deserted. The crops were well-tended and the
walkways swept, but no villagers could be seen.

  “They’re inside the buildings,” Stitcher said, seeing the expression of confusion on his face.

  “What?”

  “Inside their domes,” the young girl answered, her crimson curls glowing bright in the sunlight.

  Gameknight moved to one door, but Digger got there before him. The big NPC peered through the inset window, then slowly opened the door.

  “It’s OK, we won’t hurt you,” the stocky NPC said reassuringly. “We’re friends.”

  A villager with blue skin stepped out of the building, his arms linked across his chest. He wore a brown smock with a dark brown stripe running down the center. The stripe didn’t seem to identify their job, for all of the villagers in the building were dressed identically. Digger stepped out of the way and allowed the NPC to pass. Another adult, likely the first villager’s wife, moved past, her dark red eyes glowing on either side of her bulbous nose. They mumbled something, but neither Digger or Gameknight could understand anything.

  “We need your help,” Gameknight said to the mother. “Have you seen any other people like us?”

  Crafter approached and tried to talk with the father. The villager mumbled something unintelligible, then glanced back at the open door. Just then, two alien children emerged, a boy and a girl.

  “Children,” Digger moaned. “They have a girl and a …”

  The big NPC looked down at the kids and became very quiet. Gameknight knew Digger was thinking about his lost son, Topper. He turned away, moving into a dark section of the curved home, lost in the sudden despair. After a moment, he returned, square splotches of moisture stuck to the inside of his space helmet.

  “You seem about the same age as my Topper,” Digger said, his voice choked with grief. Kneeling, he gazed at the boy with sad eyes. “He was probably your age when he … died.”

  Gameknight moved to his friend’s side and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The stocky villager reached into his inventory and pulled out a loaf of bread. He extended it to the boy, then proffered an apple to the girl. The children took the food and instantly sat on the dusty ground to eat.

  Crafter moved behind his friend to add his support to the grieving villager.

  “Digger, maybe you should tell us what occurred,” Crafter said. “You’ve never spoken about what happened to Topper. Unburdening yourself and leaning on your friends will help.”

  “Nothing will help. This is my failure … a parent’s failure,” Digger said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. “I must bear it alone.”

  The stocky villager stood, then turned and stared at Gameknight999. He was just about to say something more, his eyes filled momentarily with hope, but then his perpetual expression of sadness washed across his square face again and he turned away.

  Gameknight sighed. He had to help his friend somehow; but how do you help someone with the loss of a child? Long ago, before the User-that-is-not-a-user had used his father’s Digitizer to go inside the game, he’d been a griefer, and back then he wouldn’t have thought twice about casually destroying a village. Back then, he’d assumed the villagers were just lines of mindless code, not living beings with hopes and dreams.

  Back then, in his arrogance, he’d caused the death of Digger’s wife, who was Topper’s and Filler’s mother. When he entered the game as the User-that-is-not-a-user, Digger had hated him, and rightfully so. But when Gameknight had saved the village from a monster attack, with the help of his friend Shawny, Digger had finally forgiven him for his stupid and careless act. Since then, Gameknight had been brought in as part of their family, fully accepted by Digger and his children. And now, here was his friend, the kind and forgiving Digger, suffering such overwhelming grief. It made Gameknight’s heart ache to see him like this. He had to do something for him, but what? If only he could …

  “Zombies! A lot of them!” Stitcher suddenly shouted from the watch tower. “And they’re heading straight for us!”

  Gameknight would have to worry about Digger later. Right now, it was time to fight.

  CHAPTER 4

  MOON ZOMBIES

  A chill ran down Gameknight’s spine as the sorrowful moans from the zombie horde floated across the lunar landscape. They moved across the gray surface effortlessly from a lifetime of experience.

  An arrow flew across the sky, followed by another. Gameknight glanced up at the village watch tower and saw Hunter had climbed up there with her sister and was now firing at the monsters. The arrows leapt from her bow, their points wreathed with magical flames. But the fiery tips were immediately extinguished due to the lack of oxygen. At first, most of the arrows flew well beyond the zombies, completely missing. Hunter yelled in frustration, but then she corrected her aim, adjusting for the reduced gravity, and fired again. The arrows now fell amongst the advancing horde. The zombies moaned in pain, the pointed shafts finding green zombie flesh. They flashed red, taking damage.

  Gameknight pulled out his own bow and fired at an approaching monster. The arrow sailed over the monster’s head, completely missing.

  “You have to aim lower than normal because of the moon’s gravity,” Crafter said, reminding him.

  The young NPC was at his side, his own bow humming as he fired arrow after arrow at the monsters. Gameknight tried again, this time aiming almost directly at the nearest of the creatures. It was a tricky thing to get used to, having aimed a certain way in Minecraft for so long, but this time the arrow struck the monster in the leg, causing it to stumble for just an instant. Herder’s wolves immediately dashed out to attack the fallen monster, but their space helmets prevented the canines’ sharp teeth from hurting the zombie. Instead, the wolves were now defenseless. One of the animals yelped in pain as a zombie’s claws raked across its side.

  “I don’t think so!” Herder yelled as he drew his iron sword and charged at the offending monster. “Nobody hurts my wolves!”

  “Herder, wait!” Gameknight shouted, but the lanky boy didn’t listen.

  Herder attacked the zombie. But he lunged with too much force, and rocketed up into the air, flying high over the monster. While the creature stared up at the would-be attacker bouncing over his head, Gameknight leapt forward, keeping his body low to the ground, and smashed into the zombie with his enchanted diamond blade. Loud cries of pain came from the creature as the User-that-is-not-a-user hit it repeatedly. Before it ever had a chance to flee, the monster disappeared with a pop. Colorfully glowing balls of XP glittered on the ground where the zombie had stood.

  Herder slowly settled back to the ground. He moved to Gameknight’s side, a crazed look on his square face.

  “Herder, send your wolves back to the village,” he said. “They’ll only get hurt out here.”

  The boy nodded, then whistled and pointed to the village. Moving silently, the animals sprinted to the village, then formed a defensive line, ready to protect the blue NPCs if the zombies decided to advance in that direction.

  “Come on, Herder,” Gameknight said.

  Nearby, he saw Weaver running toward a group of zombies. The boy was completely outnumbered, but did not hesitate. The User-that-is-not-a-user ran straight toward him, Herder right on his heels.

  “Weaver, run toward us,” Gameknight shouted.

  But the boy ignored him. Instead, he slashed at one zombie, then jumped high in the air. As he soared overhead, Weaver twisted in the air, turning himself upside down. As he floated over the zombie’s heads, he struck at them with his sword, hitting each and making them flash red. When he landed on the ground again, the zombies turned and charged. But now, Gameknight and Herder were there, attacking the monsters from behind. They tore into the monsters, destroying one, then the next, and the next, until the entire group was eliminated.

  “They’re attacking the farms,” Hunter yelled from the watch tower behind them.

  Arrows soared across the dark lunar sky, seeking zombie flesh. Hunter and Stitcher were firing toward the fields of wheat and beetr
oot, trying to push the monsters back. Gameknight ran toward the farms. He could see zombies approaching, their angry moans floating through the vacuum. The unbridled anger in their decaying voices was easy to hear. This rage was something unusual, though—not the typical zombie violence. There was something else happening here.

  The companions reached the fields at the same time as the monsters. Swords met zombie claws as the two sides clashed. Gameknight blocked an attack heading for Weaver just as another creature slashed at his shoulder. The claws scratched across his diamond armor, and one razor-sharp nail made its way through a small gap, finding soft flesh. Pain flowed down his arm as if it were on fire, causing him to flash red as he took damage.

  Meanwhile, Herder and Weaver were fighting shoulder-to-shoulder, their attacks completely synchronized as each watched out for the other. They were like a dual-bladed machine of destruction.

  Crafter suddenly appeared at the User-that-is-not-a-user’s side, the young villager’s enchanted iron sword landing critical hits. Digger moved into the line, but the expression on the big NPC’s face told Gameknight he was terrified, his courage still a distant memory.

  The friends pushed the monsters back, destroying one after another. Their orchestrated attacks, one person attacking while the other defended, were devastating. The zombies didn’t stand a chance and fell under their blades until just a single monster remained.

  “Don’t destroy the last one,” Gameknight said. “We need to understand what’s going on here. This wasn’t a normal attack.” He turned to Digger. “Make a hole for our green friend here.”