by Israel Keats
Copyright © 2017 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
The Cataloging-in-Publication Data for Alien Invasion is on file at the Library
of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-5124-3984-7 (lib. bdg.)
ISBN 978-1-5124-5356-0 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-1-5124-4873-3 (EB pdf)
Manufactured in the United States of America
1-42233-25782-2/17/2017
9780778775058 ePub
9780778775065 mobi
9780778775140 ePub
To Isaac Asimov
It is the year 2089. Virtual reality games are part of everyday life, and one company—L33T C0RP—is behind the most popular games. Though most people are familiar with L33T C0RP, few know much about what happens behind the scenes of the megacorporation.
L33T C0RP has developed a new virtual reality game: Level Up. It contains more than one thousand unique virtual realities for gamers to play. But the company needs testers to smooth out glitches. Teenagers from around the country are chosen for this task and, suddenly, they find themselves in the middle of a video game. The company gives them a warning—win the game, or be trapped within it. Forever.
Chapter 1
The gamer didn’t know what kind of game he would get.
Anything is fine, as long as it’s not boring, he thought to himself. I want lots to explore. Secrets to discover and loot to find.
He found himself on a platform in outer space, surrounded by stars. The L33T C0RP logo glowed under his feet. He reached out and touched something solid and clear, like glass, but totally invisible. Clearly he was on some kind of enclosed observation deck. He looked out at the distant stars.
Wonder if I’ll get to fly around out there. That would be cool.
“Sorry I kept you waiting,” a voice said from behind him. He turned around and saw a tall man in a white suit and sunglasses.
“It’s fine,” the gamer replied. “I like looking at the stars. Although my teachers call it staring off into space.” He snorted at his own joke, but the man didn’t even smile.
“You can call me the Game Runner,” he said. “I’m here to debrief you about the game.”
“I can see it’s set in outer space,” the gamer said.
“Yes, it is. In this game, you are a member of a small crew of space explorers who have been captured by a hostile Orionan crew—”
“Because they’re from Orion?”
“Exactly. We’re in a three-star system that’s part of the Orion constellation.” As the Game Runner went on explaining the game, the gamer got restless.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. When do I get to play? If I liked sitting through lectures I’d be better at school.
“You will be accompanied by Spec,” the Game Runner was saying, “an NPC who can relay information about your surroundings and give advice. Do you know what an NPC is?”
“Yeah, a non-player character,” the gamer answered. “But I don’t like helpers in a game. Can I disable it?”
The Game Runner frowned for a moment. “I’m afraid that’s not an option.”
“Those characters always annoy me,” the gamer complained. “They pop up every five seconds and tell you what to do. Like it’s not obvious.”
The Game Runner bristled. “You’re here to beta-test the game, not review it,” he said sternly. “Now, why don’t you pick your gamertag?”
“Solo_Lobo,” the gamer answered immediately, crossing his arms. “Solo, underscore, Lobo.”
“Solo lobo,” the Game Runner repeated back in a suddenly computerized voice. “Spanish translation for ‘single wolf.’ ”
“What?” the gamer said with a frown. “No—it was supposed to be ‘lone wolf’ . . . Ugh, never mind. It’s close enough.”
The Game Runner stared at him with a blank face, and for a moment the gamer wondered if this guy was an NPC himself.
“Very well,” the Game Runner said eventually. “Do you want me to repeat any part of my instructions? Do you understand your objective?”
“Sure. Pop some aliens and escape the station.” One thing I can do is fake like I’ve been paying attention, he thought. Learned that from years of school.
The Game Runner added, “There are alien guards throughout the game, and if you are careless they will capture you. The third time you are captured, you will fail in your mission and be a permanent prisoner in this world. Do you still accept the assignment?”
“Yep,” he said.
“Buena suerte, Señor Lobo.” The Game Runner waved a hand and the gamer was plunged into darkness.
Lobo saw lit-up graphics to his left and right. The one on the left said Prologue and the one on the right said play game.
It was an easy choice. I hate sitting through prologues. I want to play a game, not watch a movie.
He moved toward the play game sign.
Chapter 2
“Wake up, Solo_Lobo.”
Lobo’s eyes popped open. He was lying on a strange cot. It was shaped like a kite, and his arms and legs dangled to the floor. He got up in a flash and saw that he was wearing a light blue jumpsuit that looked like a prison uniform with his gamertag stitched on the chest. He was in a small oval room with light brown walls. There was no furniture other than the cot. And the room had no edges—the floors curved to connect with the walls and the walls with the ceiling.
“You should exit immediately,” the voice said. Lobo wheeled around and saw a softball-sized metal sphere hovering over the bed, waving four robotic arms that were spaced evenly around the sphere. It had a single unblinking lens that telescoped in on him.
“What are you?” he asked.
“My name is Spec,” the metal ball said in a female voice that was surprisingly natural-sounding. “I am supposed to guard you, but I want to help you escape.”
“Oh, right,” he said. So you’re the sidekick.
“It is critical that you exit this room immediately,” she repeated. “An Orionan soldier will enter in precisely fifty-five seconds. Fifty-four seconds. Fifty-three seconds . . .”
“Got it.” He opened the door and crept out, passing through a short hallway into a bigger den-like room.
Inside he saw something he figured was a desk—tall, with a top shaped like kidney bean. There was a narrow, rounded cabinet and a funnel-shaped canister on the floor. The furniture was all the same sandy color.
I wasn’t put in a prison cell. More like a big closet next to an office. I wonder why? That probably made it a lot easier to escape.
He opened one of the desk drawers and found it empty.
“I suggest taking a moment to search the premises for useful items and information,” Spec said.
“Already doing that,” Lobo said. Here we go with the obvious hints.
He qu
ickly searched the other drawers. In one he found a digital tablet. When he pushed the tablet’s main button, the device opened to a screen with a map of the ship. In one corner of the ship, he saw a pulsing green square inside an oval.
That must be me, he figured. And the oval is this room.
He could see the connecting room and a few others, but the rest of the map was grayed out with no details.
“This map isn’t complete yet,” he said. “Is that part of the game?”
“Game?” the robot echoed.
Of course she wouldn’t know this is a game, he realized. “I mean, the first thing I want to do is complete the map.”
“You can find detailed information about the entire space station at a data port,” the robot told him.
“Got it.”
“I suggest exploring the area until you find a data port,” she added.
“Already connected those dots,” Lobo sighed, rolling his eyes. This is why I hate game aides. They give me hints I don’t need.
He heard footsteps just outside the door. Spec started to tell him to hide, but he’d already ducked out of the way. An alien entered. It looked sort of like a human but had a wide waist and no shoulders, spindly legs, long arms, and a football-shaped head. Large black oval eyes and flat nostrils sat high on its face, which was tinted with blue-green skin. Its mouth was wide and frowning. It carried a mustard-colored object in one hand.
That sure doesn’t look like a weapon, Lobo thought. Looks more like a big, metallic egg. But who knows? It’s alien tech.
The alien—which Lobo figured was an Orionan—was much taller than Lobo but also looked lightweight and weak. Lobo noticed the door the alien had come through was closed. If he was quick, he could tackle the alien and nobody would see or hear anything. He could probably knock the creature flat and disarm it before it could use that weapon. Then he would have a weapon.
He leaped from behind the desk, meaning to tackle the Orionan, but the alien looked at him with eyes that were now glowing. Lobo froze, unable to move. He stood helplessly, mid-step, until darkness overtook him.
Chapter 3
Again he found himself in the blackness with the two graphics: prologue and play game.
What just happened? he wondered. Was that a glitch in the game? Or did I just mess up? Does that count as one of my lives?
Once again he chose to play the game over watching the prologue.
“Wake up, Solo_Lobo.” Lobo opened his eyes. He was back in the kite-shaped bed, which he now realized was made to fit the Orionans’ bodies. He stood up. Spec hovered over his head, gesturing with two of her arms.
“What just happened?” he asked.
“The Orionans have powerful lasers in their eyes. They can drain your life force.”
“My life force?” he questioned. “Oh!” They must be disanimators—as soon as they see me, I fade away and go back to Start. He’d played other games where being caught by an enemy caused the player to disappear, pixel by pixel, until they were sent back to Start. But he’d never experienced it in a virtual reality game before.
“You cannot let them see you for even a moment. If you do, you will be frozen and returned here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I assumed you knew,” Spec said. “Surely you did not enter the Orionan Cluster without researching their abilities.”
“Of course not,” he lied. Did the Game Runner tell me about that? Guess I should have paid more attention.
“I suggest that you stay out of the sight lines of any aliens,” Spec continued.
“You think?” he said sarcastically. Reaching into his pocket, he found that he no longer had the mapping device. He slipped out of the room, headed to the small office, and started searching the drawers again. Empty. “What happened to the map thingy?”
“The alien who caught you kept it.”
Lobo turned away from the drawers. “Really? They don’t do a complete reboot?”
“Reboot? I do not understand.”
“Reboot,” he explained. “You know, like resetting things when I go back to the beginning of a level.”
Spec took a moment before responding, as if she were struggling to compute. “You mean the entrance to this tier of the space station?”
She doesn’t know she’s in a game, so she doesn’t know what I’m talking about, he reminded himself. “Never mind. I need that map to find my way around.”
“I hope you will show more caution,” the robot said, and by the tone of her voice it sounded like she meant it. “As an Orionan servant, I have taken a big risk in helping you escape. A failure on your part will have severe consequences for me as well.”
“Consequences?” Lobo questioned. “You’re an appliance. What are they going to do—recycle you for parts?”
Spec didn’t respond. Lobo felt himself wince a bit, looking away from her. I guess that was a little harsh. But it’s not like she has feelings I can hurt.
There was a noise at the door. He crouched behind the desk. His hand brushed the floor and hit something hard that scraped across the floor.
He peered beneath the desk to see what it was, hoping it might be loot or some sort of tool he could use. But no, it was useless. A hardened lump of what looked like dried cat food in the shape of a biscuit. A hard biscuit.
It must be Orionan food. Disgusting. Glad this virtual reality doesn’t include smells.
The alien entered, looked around for a few seconds, then turned and exited.
Lobo slipped the alien biscuit in his pocket, just in case. I might have to knock an alien in the head, he figured. From behind, obviously. This’ll have to do until I get a real weapon.
He started for the door, but Spec rushed in front of him and blocked his path. “The area outside this room is well guarded,” she said. “There is risk of being seen the moment you leave the room.”
“So what do I do?”
“I suggest you observe the aliens and memorize their patterns,” the robot said. “That way you can avoid being seen.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But how am I supposed to learn their patterns if I can’t open the door to watch them?”
“Remember that I am an Orionan robot.”
“So?”
“The Orionans are used to seeing me. I am as invisible to them as . . . as an appliance, like you said. I can exit the room and observe their patterns, then return with information about their movements.”
“Oh!” So you do serve a purpose. You’re a spy! “Thanks. Yeah, let’s do that.”
Spec slipped through the door and was back a moment later.
“Wait . . .” she said. “Wait . . . Wait . . . Wait . . . Go now! Five, four . . .”
Lobo bolted out of the room into a wide hallway. He ducked behind a post just as an alien turned to face the door. The post was wide at the floor and ceiling, but narrowed in the middle. He wasn’t hidden very well but the aliens kept their gaze straight ahead.
They act the way teachers tell me to, he thought. Eyes forward, focus on what’s right in front of me, don’t pay attention to anything else.
This hallway was wide in the middle, narrowing at either end, with doors along the curved walls. The walls were mustard yellow and the posts were dark brown.
There was a guard marching along either wall. A third guard entered one room after another, disappearing for a moment, then emerging and moving on to the next door. That was the guard who’d caught him. Lobo could even see the mapping device in the alien’s rear pocket. The guard still held the egg-shaped object in its hand.
No way I’m getting that weapon, he thought. But maybe I can get the map back.
Lobo moved slowly around the post, keeping it between him and the guard. As the guard passed by, Lobo snatched the mapping device out of the alien’s pocket. He quickly ducked back behind the post. The alien didn’t even notice.
Spec had been hovering by the door, watching. She now zoomed over and he expected her to scol
d him for being reckless. But he was wrong.
“Excellent work,” she said in a low voice.
Lobo stayed hidden behind the post and studied the map. This part of the station was shown on the map. But there was no clue to what was in the other rooms. There would probably be loot in at least one of them. A laser blaster, maybe, or a key he could use somewhere else?
He turned to Spec. “I’m going to check out those rooms.”
“I do not recommend it,” the robot said. “The doors will be locked.”
“But you can open, them right? You could see what’s in there.”
“I might attract attention if I start barging into rooms where I am not assigned.”
“You did tell me to explore,” he reminded her.
“You have the entire space station to explore,” the robot argued. “I suggest going toward the transport network access portal.” She pointed with one of her arms. “From there you can find a data center to complete your map.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” he admitted. I wish I knew what I might be missing out on here, but maybe I can come back later.
He darted from post to post until he reached a narrow opening. Spec stayed close to him. Two guards stood, unmoving, at either side of the opening. There was no way past them without being seen.
“So what’s next?” he whispered to Spec.
“We are approaching an aerovator dock,” she said. Before he could ask what that was, she went on, “Aerovators are the station’s transport network. We can use the capsules to move quickly about the space station.”
“But I have to get past those guards.”
“Perhaps you can create a distraction.”
From down the hall they heard the chatter of alien language.
“Be quick,” Spec told him. “They must have noticed you’re missing.”
Lobo remembered the lump of hard food in his pocket. He reached for it and hurled the lump of stale food at a light hanging from the ceiling. He’d only been hoping to rattle it and distract the guards, but the biscuit actually cracked the fixture.
