“I can’t forget Max,” I told her. “It just isn’t an option.”
Ketheria smiled. “Then we must prepare. Maybe we can win this.”
“Whoa, whoa, there. What’s all this we stuff? It’s just gonna be me and maybe Theodore.”
Ketheria shook her head. “You know yourself it’s a team, a team of four. That’s how they play the Chancellor’s Challenge. There are four rounds plus the championship match. Two players could never last that long.”
“I’ll get someone else, Ketheria. No way.”
“You can’t win without me,” she insisted. “You know that, so contact Vairocina. We need all the help we can get.”
This was already out of hand, and we weren’t even close to the match, but I couldn’t think of another way. I agreed with Ketheria (for now, anyway) and contacted Vairocina. I could tell her. I could trust Vairocina. I needed to trust her, and I made Vairocina promise not to tell a soul. Max’s life was at stake.
“This is very serious,” Vairocina said as we whispered in a dark corner of Charlie’s room. Everyone was asleep, and I wanted no one to hear us.
“That’s why I need your help.”
“Tromaine, the area where the Challenge is played, is bubbled from the central computer. I cannot help you once you are inside. In fact, all of the information concerning the Chancellor’s Challenge is stored on their computer inside the city.”
“Why would such a valuable treasure be located in a city outside the Keepers’ control?”
“I can’t answer that,” she said.
“You can’t or you won’t?”
Vairocina slumped slightly. “That is unnecessary, JT,” she said. “I may function inside the central computer, but I owe my life to you. The central computer has absolutely no contact with the computer of Inner Tromaine. It is a sacred place. That is why the treasure is kept there, outside of the Keepers’ reach. I would answer your questions if I could. Always.”
“I’m sorry. It’s getting very hard for me to trust people on Orbis.”
“I understand. That’s why I’m coming with you,” she said.
“What?”
“There is enough memory space inside your arm for me to fit quite comfortably. I may not have all of the same functions I have inside the central computer, but I can compress myself to fit inside your arm. I will be a valuable asset once inside.”
I saw nothing wrong with her idea except for one thing. “What if I don’t make it out of there?”
“You will.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I have traveled from the end of the universe, jumping from computer to computer. Do not worry about me.”
“How are you going to get into my arm?”
“Your softwire cannot facilitate the transfer. You must make some sort of hardwire connection.”
Max could do it. I knew she could, but she wasn’t here.
“Do you have anyone to assist you?” she asked me.
Who could wire my arm so Vairocina could hop in for a ride? I needed someone who wouldn’t ask any questions, either.
“What if he won’t do it?” Ketheria asked me as I held the pod door open for her.
“That’s why I brought you along. I think he likes you.”
The pod slid effortlessly up one of the sloped supports beneath the Labyrinth. It was a gamble to seek Tinker’s help, and I knew it. But I remembered the way he had helped Ketheria. I needed to exploit every advantage available to me if I was going to survive the Chancellor’s Challenge. Losing was not an option.
“Of all the buildings on Orbis, why doesn’t the Labyrinth use a light chute?” I asked Ketheria.
“Why do you care?”
I didn’t, actually. I was trying to think about anything except Max. I didn’t want to think about where they were holding her. I didn’t want to think about what Ceesar might be doing to her, or if she was scared. I didn’t want to think about any of it, but I realized I wasn’t doing a very good job.
“Stop thinking about Max,” she said.
“Get out of my head.”
“I don’t have to read your mind. It’s written all over your face,” she whispered. “Don’t worry — we’ll get her.”
“And then what?”
“You’ll think of something.”
I saw two Citizens registering contestants at Tinker’s booth. How many players are there? I wondered. We lingered behind a sculpture of some nameless Citizen, cautiously waiting for the opportunity to speak with Tinker. A large vid-screen floated past us, flashing an image of the last champion from the Chancellor’s Challenge. The thick, fleshy alien with four gold-covered spikes sprouting from his head glared down at us. A large blue emblem scarred his ample belly.
“Was the helmet unsatisfactory?” Tinker called to us from his booth.
“No, it was fine, thank you,” Ketheria said, and we ventured out from the shadows.
“Why are you hiding?” he asked.
“Can we talk?” I whispered.
“Aren’t we talking now?” He frowned.
“Privately,” Ketheria said.
Tinker led us into the same room where he had given us the Quest-Nest helmets. The young female we met before was kneeling before a shallow stone bowl, muttering something I couldn’t hear. I saw a thin blue stream of smoke rise from the bowl, illuminated only by the light streaming through the three arched windows cut in the wall. Tinker struck his metal appendages against the stone without warning. The female jumped, gathered her simple cloth robe, and scurried out the door.
“Please sit if you’d like,” Tinker offered. “I can tell by the way you’re looking at me that this might take a while.”
He cleared a bench for us under the windows.
“Thank you,” Ketheria said.
But I couldn’t sit still. I needed Tinker’s help, yet I was troubled by the fact that he knew Ceesar as well. It was essential for me to identify Tinker’s loyalties first. I pointed at the etchings on his windows, the ones that were the same as those carved into the walls of our own estate, and said, “Aren’t those OIO streams?”
Tinker moved toward the door, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. I continued to admire the glass while he continued to size me up and make sure no one else was near. He tapped a wall control with his cumbersome fingers. The door appeared to lock us in, or everyone else out. It didn’t really matter.
“Why do you speak of OIO?” he asked me from the other side of the room.
“Are you a believer, too?” I replied.
For an awkward-looking alien, Tinker moved very fast, towering over me in an instant. “Who are you?” he wanted to know.
“We’re knudniks that need your help,” Ketheria replied.
Tinker sniffed at the air as if he was hunting for something rotten. “I’ve already helped you,” he said.
“This is different,” she told him.
“Trefaldoors refer to them as cosmic winds, and Samirans call them cosmic rivers. Is that right? Or is it the other way around? I can never remember,” I said.
“It’s all energy,” he mumbled.
“So not only are we both knudniks, but we also both like this OIO stuff.”
“Stuff!” Tinker shouted, standing tall and stretching out his hands. “A true believer would never refer to it as stuff.”
“Is Ceesar a believer, like us?” I questioned, ignoring his comment.
“Why do you speak of him? Is he paying for this?”
“Have you spoken to him recently?”
“What are these games?” Tinker demanded, and drove the steely point of his index finger into the workbench. “I am no more aware of his dealings than I am of yours. He pays for my services and I fulfill his requests, nothing more.”
That was enough for me. “I need a hardwire uplink port,” I told him. “Capable of transferring a lot of data.”
“But you are a softwire. What do you need one for?”
“I just need one.”
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“Come here,” he demanded.
I looked at Ketheria.
“Come here!” he repeated.
With small steps, I moved toward the workbench. Tinker extended a metallic arm toward the wall. “Stand there,” he said, and kicked away a small wooden stool. “Assume the Circle of Life.”
This was a test, and I was about to fail. The Circle of Life? I knew he was talking about OIO, but I did not know the reference.
“Human or Nagool?” Ketheria called out.
Tinker squinted at Ketheria, grinding his teeth together. They were metal, too. “Nagool. Humans are still ignorant,” he hissed.
Nagool? Ketheria was sending me a clue. Each time I observed Nagool masters, they were shuffling about with their arms stretched out to their sides. Floaters, I remembered someone calling them. I extended my arms, with my feet shoulder-width apart, and raised my chin. I hoped this was the Circle of Life.
Tinker kicked my feet together. “Close the node,” he demanded, and then scrounged through his workbench as I glanced at Ketheria. She smiled at me and nodded. Apparently I had passed the test.
Tinker returned with a small device suspended by a chain. It consisted of two concave crystal receptors attached by a spiraling wire. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the doodles Ketheria had been scribbling when she was sick.
Tinker raised the device over my head. Afraid to expose my ignorance, I didn’t dare ask what it was. When he moved the gadget out in front of my face, I could see the small crystal scoops begin to rotate around the spiral. Tinker never took his weary eyes off the tool, almost as if he were willing an answer out of it, some sort of signal from the thing. He moved it in front of my chest and it stopped, reversed its motion, and began spinning in the opposite direction. Tinker lifted his head, his eyes widening. He repeated the movement, starting above my head, once more. The device did the same thing. Then Tinker moved it farther out, and it reversed direction once more. He moved it out over each hand and around my body; each time, the tool switched direction.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
Tinker spun around and cleared his workbench with a swoosh of his mechanical arm. He dragged a thick leather block from the shelf and pried it open. It was a book. I had seen pictures of one on the Renaissance, but never a real one. Tinker tore at it, flipping through it, searching manically for something, an answer maybe.
Then he was upon me again, holding the piece of equipment up and repeating the patterns. Each time the device did the same thing.
Tinker slammed the book shut. “You must leave,” he said. His weary eyes now glowed red with fear.
“But the port?” I said. “I need the —”
Tinker grabbed a neural implant port from the mess on the floor and threw it at me, hitting my chest. “Take it, but leave. Leave now.”
“What’s the matter, Tinker?” Ketheria asked.
“I have done nothing,” he hissed, his eyes darting about the room. “I am a faithful follower. I am worthy.”
“I can’t do this myself,” I said, holding up the port.
“I fear your reprisal if I fail,” he said, and lowered his head, bending his body in submission.
“Tinker?”
He would not stand up. “Forgive me,” he whispered, pointing toward the door.
“Let’s go, Johnny,” Ketheria whispered. “We’ll find another way.”
Outside Tinker’s room, I asked Ketheria, “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. All I sensed was fear. Enormous amounts of fear.”
“What was that thing he had?”
“It’s used to read a person’s nodes. It’s called an Ara.”
I shrugged. It was all nonsense to me. “What’s wrong with my nodes?”
Tinker’s erratic behavior was the least of my worries. I had managed to get a port, but it wouldn’t do Vairocina any good if it weren’t attached to me. I needed Max. She would have this figured out in no time.
“What are you going to do?” Theodore asked me next cycle as we headed to the Illuminate.
“Tell Vairocina I can’t do it, I suppose.”
I walked mindlessly across the plaza and into the Illuminate. A cold gray fog had isolated me from the rest of my world. I welcomed it. I could let nothing in. I had to think of a way to save my sister and my friends. I had to get Max back. It actually hurt my head to think about anything else, and I passed on this cycle’s tap. I watched while Theodore and Ketheria grabbed theirs. I was going to save Max’s life, but in order to do that, I would have to risk both of their lives.
“There’s going to be some sort of presentation,” Theodore mentioned after he uplinked the tap.
“In the quad,” Ketheria added. “It’s for the Challenge.”
“We’re supposed to wait outside,” Theodore instructed, and I followed.
I enjoyed the distraction. There was no way I could concentrate on my studies, anyway. We walked back outside and stood among the other students.
“How many possible outcomes with the sort?” I asked Theodore.
“Eighty-one, but that doesn’t take into account the computer interpretation of the selection. That number is incalculable,” he said.
“You’ve tried?”
“I’ve tried.”
“Look,” Ketheria exclaimed, pointing across the quad.
A six-wheeled craft dragging some sort of slick metal container maneuvered into the plaza. When it stopped, the container began to swell, branching and forming into a sturdy-looking, multilevel stage equipped with vid-screens and flashing lights. The vehicle backed toward the stage, disappearing underneath it as the Chancellor of Orbis 3 emerged in the center screen — the same Chancellor who had given the fake Theodore his award for the highest test score.
“Noble Citizens,” his voiced boomed from the highest point on the platform.
“That’s impressive!” Theodore gushed, and I had to agree. The stage was the first thing to actually take my mind off the match.
“It is my esteemed privilege, as the Chancellor’s Challenge approaches, to honor those Citizens who celebrate the glory of our great culture through their own sacrifice.”
His mention of the Challenge reignited my fears. “What has a Citizen ever sacrificed?” I scoffed. Ketheria shushed me, but Theodore nodded in agreement.
“We must show our gratitude and pay tribute to those among you who have aspired to honor themselves and their families by entering these noblest of games.”
“What’s so noble about dying?” Theodore mumbled.
“Look upon these fine Citizens and let them feel your joy as they stand proudly in front of you.”
My body vibrated from the surge of music that exploded from the stage. The students cheered as each honored Citizen mounted the steps of the stage and stood under the Chancellor’s vid-screen. First they waved at the Chancellor and then slowly, as their platforms rotated, they turned to face the admiration of the crowd.
“I don’t get this!” Theodore shouted over the music and cheers. “These guys chose to go out and get themselves killed?”
Theodore was right. Why would a Citizen risk his life like this? As far as I figured, the match was just another way the Citizens exploited knudniks. But here were four Citizens willing to die for the honor of it. I didn’t get it.
Before I could comment, though, a sparkle of gold near the contestant farthest to the right caught the corner of my eye. I leaned on Theodore and stood on my toes to see over the other students. The gold sparkled again, and my eyes traced the origin to the contestant on the farthest platform. Immediately I dropped my head and forced my way through the crowd.
“Johnny! Where are you going?” Ketheria called out.
“This way!” I shouted. “Come on!”
I needed to get closer. I needed to see it clearly, with my own eyes.
The crowd resisted my efforts to get closer to the stage, but I only pushed harder, leaning forward and never letting my feet stop.<
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“What’s wrong, JT?” Theodore yelled, but I just kept pushing.
Something about the fourth Citizen seemed very familiar to me. Maybe it was the slender arm waving to the crowd, or maybe the glowing porcelain skin? But it was the glitter of gold that threw me off. At first I thought it was a reflection of something metallic, maybe armor or something on the stage. But when I stretched up and over the crowd and caught a glimpse of the gold-colored hair, I panicked. That could only belong to one person.
When I reached the far side of the quad, I could see Riis standing solemnly on the stage, waving to the crowd.
“Riis, no! What are you doing?” I screamed up at her.
She turned toward the sound of her name. She stopped waving when she saw me.
“Why?” I yelled.
She turned away without a response, but I didn’t need one. The look in her eyes was very familiar to me. It held the despair and hopelessness of someone locked in servitude, toiling toward a goal that was not her own. The knudniks on the Rings of Orbis shared that vacant stare, and now Riis did, too.
“Don’t do this, Riis!” I shouted, and the platform began to move away from me.
“What is Riis doing up there?” Theodore asked.
I didn’t know, but I did know two things. First, I would have to fight Riis in the tournament, and second, she would have to lose. At that moment I hated Switzer more than I would have thought possible. He had put me in this situation for his own gain. He was willing to sacrifice the lives of everyone close to me to satisfy his greed. I made a promise to myself to make him pay for that. And that was a promise I planned to keep.
“They will honor their families in battle,” the Chancellor shouted over the cheering crowd. “These are great Citizens. Be proud of them.”
The platform Riis stood on shifted, and she sat as the stage hovered higher before reaching a wingless shuttle floating in the air. I shouted at her again, but it was too late now. She was gone. I would not see her again until the Chancellor’s Challenge. The next time I saw Riis, I would have to kill her.
I did not return to the Illuminate again. I spent every moment preparing for my match. If I wasn’t setting strategies or scoping past players, I fantasized about my revenge on Switzer. If I wasn’t doing either of those, I thought about my cycle with Max, standing and listening to the music.
The Softwire: Wormhole Pirates on Orbis 3 Page 21
