by Jeff Miller
Their hologram shark swam through the game’s level, chomping down gold coins. Neil steered them back toward the team’s treasure chest to deposit their haul. Sam had the shark dive low, skimming just above the outstretched hands of convention attendees.
“Thirty seconds left!” said Jolly, turning to the audience. “Let’s see if the Beeds can pull it off! Cheer them on, RebootCon!”
Neil glanced backward to see more and more gamers crowding around to watch. He and his friends, in the span of twenty minutes, had become the most exciting part of RebootCon.
Neil saw the rest of his crew in front of the stage, screaming as if he and their friends were headlining a sold-out rock concert.
“I see you’ve got some fellow family members cheering you on from the crowd,” said Jolly. “Wow, quite a few. Well, aren’t you lucky.”
As Neil steered toward a coin just past a pillar of coral, a huge set of jaws chomped at him from above.
“Whoa!” Neil yelled.
“No fair—they have to go for the coins,” said Biggs.
“I don’t recall that being in the rules,” said Jolly. “Fifteen seconds left!”
The crowd pushed up against the stage, frenzied for the final few seconds. The mermaids were playing dirty, but Neil had made quick work of gathering most of the gold. Only five gold coins remained on the level.
“Let’s go, Neil,” said Sam. “Show all these gamers how to do it!”
Sam and Neil steered the shark down through strands of seaweed and schools of yellow fish, speeding toward each spinning piece of pirate treasure. They effortlessly collected the final coins, dodging the ferocious bites from the mermaids’ shark.
“Winners!” shouted Jolly as hologram ocean confetti burst out over the energetic crowd. Neil watched his shark opponent sink, its glowing red eyes disappearing into murky blue-green water.
Jolly quickly ushered the mermaids offstage, careful not to step on their tails.
“Well, well, the Beed family stays alive,” said Jolly. “Who will be next?”
Hands raised in all corners of the convention center.
“Me! Me!” screamed Trevor. The host cupped a hand to her ear, egging the crowd on. With a devilish smile she walked to the other side of the stage.
Jolly pointed to a clawed hand in the crowd, and Neil watched three gargoyles take the set of jaws across from him. Once again, on Jolly’s mark, the ancient sharks were back at it, twirling through the ocean and over thousands of people. Neil was soon trying tricky maneuvers to gain speed while cruising underwater valleys. He was getting the hang of steering, and Biggs was working up a sweat flinging his body to speed them along.
Round after round passed with Neil, Sam, and Biggs as victors. The gargoyles were quickly defeated and were followed by knights. The knights fought hard but then gave way to the vampires, who sucked.
Neil and his friends battled through six more groups of costumed convention-goers, honing their skills with each match. The talkative Jolly went quiet during their matches.
Suddenly, in the middle of a match against a feisty trio of frost giants, the game paused.
Neil’s controls stopped working, and he looked back to see a bunch of security guards surrounding his friends. A guard climbed onto the stage and whispered something into Jolly’s ear.
“Hey, no pushing!” yelled Waffles from below the stage.
“Well, this may mean a disqualification,” Jolly said, shaking her head. “Apparently, some of our players snuck into the conference.”
“ManofNeil, run!” yelled Jason 2. “Save those precious gaming hands of yours!”
Neil’s crew was surrounded, and the guards began to herd them back toward the entrance.
“Hey, easy with my friends!” Neil yelled as a female guard began to corner Dale and Waffles. It was the one who’d allowed them inside the convention, and she grabbed the brothers by their shirt collars.
“Beed Industries, eh? Bet you thought you were pretty smart,” the guard said to them. “You’re coming with me.”
“Does this mean I don’t get to play? Are you kidding me?” Trevor whined.
A guard almost had Neil’s hands pinned behind his back when Jolly Rogers stepped in.
“Let these three come with me,” she said. Her eyes sparkled. “I’ll make sure our cheaters still get a free copy of the game, then have them removed from the premises.”
Neil could feel Jolly’s thin fingers wrap around his wrist. She squeezed tightly, making sure he couldn’t wriggle free from her grip. She really wanted him to have that game.
“Radio me after,” said the guard. She ducked under the stage to go after Yuri. He’d crawled below the metal stage, but he didn’t get far before getting tangled in a mess of lighting cords.
As Yuri was dragged out by his foot, a kid in a white nautical uniform stepped between Neil and Jolly. He was nearly as tall as the girl, and the two towered over Neil.
“You’re not taking them anywhere,” said the teenager. He wore a black-brimmed white captain’s hat, with a silver R embroidered on its front.
He spoke with a calm voice that reminded Neil of Weo, a friend he’d made when he’d crash-landed a jet into his island tree house.
“He wants to see him,” said the teen.
He?
“And who is ‘he’?” said Jolly. Her smile was long gone.
“You don’t know?” the teen said. “He is the man of the hour—Reboot Robiskie. And he wants to see these three.”
Wait, Reboot Robiskie asked to see us? No way.
“Well, we can’t go anywhere without our friends,” said Sam. “If Reboot wants to see us, we go as a team.”
The boy looked at Sam in surprise. It was like she’d passed on the chance to meet royalty.
“I’m afraid that’s not how this works,” he said. “I can’t help your friends. Mr. Robiskie only wants to see the three gamers who just played.”
“But I need to see the three gamers who just played,” Jolly said. Her voice had completely lost its warmth.
“Can I kick these kids out or what?” yelled the impatient security guard, who was nearly done collecting the rest of Neil’s group. She had Jason 2 trapped in his cape, and another security official chased down Trevor as he tried to play Captain Jolly’s Shark Hunt.
Neil was uncertain what to do. Both the creator of an awesome new game and, apparently, Reboot Robiskie wanted to see him and his friends.
“It’s now or never,” said the boy in the white outfit.
“Neil, you guys have got to go see Reboot,” said Waffles. “For me! For all of us!”
Neil looked at Sam, then Biggs.
“Listen to my brother! Save yourselves!” shouted Dale. “We’ll get a ride back in Harris’s donut bus!”
The three onstage nodded, and Neil grabbed the shoulder of the sharply dressed boy.
“Sorry, Jolly. Loved your game, though.”
Neil felt her let go of his wrist as he was led off the stage and through a secret exit of the convention center. As Neil pushed through a heavy door, he looked back to see Jolly returning to the lights of the stage, her game demonstration still happening.
“Who needs them anyway, right?” Jolly shouted to the crowd. “On to my next victims!”
OK, THAT WAS A LEFT, ANOTHER LEFT, AND TWO RIGHTS.
Neil, Biggs, and Sam were led through the winding corridors below the main level of the convention center. Neil did his best to remember their route, just in case something happened. From years of video gaming, Neil never entered a room without remembering how to find his way back out.
“You guys doin’ OK?” Neil turned and asked the two friends behind him. They nodded.
“I do feel bad leaving everybody like that,” said Sam.
“Me, too, but they understand,” Neil answered. “They’d do the same thing if they were in our shoes.”
“Well, it’s too late to turn back now,” said Biggs, looking at a message on his phone. “JP says
they’re already outside. He says they’ll figure something out for a couple hours.”
“I guess so . . . ,” Sam replied.
“Yeah, they’re fine,” Biggs said. “I’m sending them my mom’s number. She’ll have beet pancakes ready for their return.”
Blech. Let’s not return.
They continued to follow the kid in uniform. “Sorry there’s not room for everyone,” he said. “We only allow a few people on the yacht at a time.”
Yacht? We get to go on Reboot’s yacht?!
“I’m the same way about my yacht,” Neil joked, trying to downplay his excitement.
The boy did not laugh.
“I mean, thank you, this is an honor,” Neil said. He knew that Reboot lived in international waters so authorities could never successfully shut down his operation, but he never thought he’d ever see his hero’s home base. Neil wondered if it would live up to the messy standards of his own room back home.
The group walked down a final hallway before pushing through double doors and into the bright sunlight. They were near the industrial shipping dock for the convention center. Sunshine sparkled across the ocean marina.
Neil was ushered onto a ladder on the water’s edge and looked down. The sea was a few feet below. An inflatable raft with a small motor was waiting at the bottom of a few rusted metal rungs.
“Wait, is this the yacht? ’Cause if so I’m going back,” said Sam.
“Ha, good one,” said the boy, sliding down the ladder. “I’m Wifi, by the way. Just hop aboard. You won’t regret it.”
Sam hopped down the rungs, and the raft dipped as her feet landed firmly. Neil and Biggs followed, and Wifi untied the raft from the dock. The engine revved, and they cruised out of the marina and into the open ocean.
This is either the best or worst idea we’ve ever had.
Neil’s body slammed into the bottom of the raft as it bounced over choppy waves. His stomach did its best to keep up with the raft as the coastline slowly faded away.
A BIT WOBBLY, NEIL STEPPED ONTO THE SHINY WHITE DECK of a forty-foot yacht. Neil glanced in every direction and saw nothing but miles of ocean.
Wow, we’re far out. This view is a bit different from Colorado.
The ship had two levels and some pretty sophisticated-looking equipment spinning around on the roof. Neil figured it was some kind of cloaking device—Reboot was a wanted man, after all.
The lower deck, decorated with white leather couches that were comically large, led into a massive kitchen. It looked like there was enough room for twenty-five people. Neil counted four different refrigerators.
“You could throw an ultimate party on here. You sure we can’t bring our friends?” asked Neil. The teen didn’t respond.
“Up top,” called a voice from the higher deck of the ship.
Neil looked at Sam, whose eyes were wide.
“This is like meeting Sasquatch, guys,” Biggs said, doing his best to tame his unruly long hair.
At the top, a large white leather chair was perched in front of a bay of screens. Some displayed spiking charts and graphs, while others showed video feeds. One screen looked like the feed from Captain Jolly’s Shark Hunt.
“Welcome,” said a voice from behind the high back of the captain’s chair. The chair turned with a squeak to reveal a boy in sunglasses. He had light-brown skin and wore white pants and a half-buttoned shirt. He sipped a frozen drink through a curly-q straw. “Reboot Robiskie is the name.”
Uh, dude, we know. I just didn’t think you were the same age as me.
“I’m Biggs, and this is Sam Gonzales and Neil. Neil Andertol.”
The boy noisily slurped from his drink.
“You may know me from my work with smellable gaming,” continued Biggs. “Or the Universal Biggs Language—which is now a legally recognized language in almost two different states and Nova Scotia.” Sam nudged him to stop talking.
“All of you were impressive in the convention,” the kid hacker said. “Especially you, Neil.”
“You’re right—he’s the best gamer alive,” Sam said.
“Your voice is familiar,” said Reboot, looking at Sam. “We’ve flown jets together, haven’t we?”
“Wait, you just play regular games?” asked a shocked Neil.
“From time to time. I like to keep the skills sharp,” Reboot said. “ShooterSam, I take it.”
Sam nodded.
“I see you’ve met Wifi Whitner,” he said, gesturing to the teen. “He’s my right-hand man and only crewmate. There’s not a glitch, motor malfunction, or bug he can’t fix.”
Wifi nodded. Neil’s eyes turned back to Reboot.
“Frozen smoothie, anyone?” asked Reboot Robiskie. “We collect the rarest and tastiest fruit around the world to make them—they’re great.”
“Yes, please!” said Neil. Now this is the life.
Wifi disappeared downstairs and soon returned with a tray full of frosty glasses containing red and blue slush. Neil was already loving his time at sea, and he wondered if it was too soon to ask for an all-white uniform so that he’d look like a real sea captain.
A smoothie was handed to Reboot, and he stood up from his chair to propose a toast. The five raised their glasses together.
“To you three,” Reboot said with a grin. “Well done today.”
“I’ll cheers to that. To the best friends ever!” said Neil.
The five took long sips of the sugary frozen drink. Neil didn’t even care that he got a brain freeze. He knew the moment would be etched forever in his memory, once his brain thawed.
Biggs released his curly straw from his mouth and raised his glass again.
“And another toast—to Reboot Robiskie,” said Biggs. “And his boat full of video games and great-tasting frozen treats.”
As Neil finished his tropical fruit smoothie, another instantly replaced it, with what seemed like an even bigger, crazier straw.
“So are you not allowed into your own convention?” asked Sam. “Isn’t it weird to not be there?”
“I wish I could be there, but if I set foot on land, I’ll get arrested. Plus I don’t like crowds,” Reboot said. “When I want, I bring the best part of the convention to me.”
“Are you talking about those futuristic hand dryers in the bathrooms? They seemed pretty hard to move,” said Biggs. He was leaning on the ship’s railing as he looked toward the setting sun.
“I think he means us, dude,” said Neil. “And thanks. That Shark Hunt game was fun. Why don’t you have it on the site yet?”
“I didn’t know it existed until a couple days ago,” Reboot said. “A copy showed up unannounced. I played it once and was hooked—let the creator know I’d save the convention space if they wanted to debut the game.”
“Who’s the creator?” asked Neil.
“Not too sure. I’ve found in this business some things need to be kept secret, Neil,” said Reboot. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “But if you guys are interested in stuff like that, want to see the server room?”
“You bet we do,” said Neil.
You bet we do? You’re hanging out with the most wanted hacker in the world, you’re not allowed to talk like your goofy uncle. Get it together, Neil Andertol.
Neil, Sam, and Biggs followed Reboot Robiskie inside, past the fancy kitchen. They reached a large white door, and Reboot tapped in a lengthy code. The door clicked open.
They entered a small room inside the nose of the ship. A wall of gigantic television screens displayed streaming videos from gamers currently in battle. In the corner of each TV was the country and time zone of the game’s origin. From a black metal tower in the corner, the site’s server hummed.
Neil watched kids in India face off in a level of Chameleon. Below that was a tournament-style game of Feather Duster 2. He looked a few screens over to see someone playing Riley’s favorite, Horse Jump 3. Neil felt a bit guilty.
Riley should be here to see this.
“
And you control all these games?” asked Biggs.
“Not control, really,” Reboot said. “But they’re all hosted from the boat. I want everyone to have a place to be free to post what he or she wants,” said Reboot.
“I wish my friends could see this,” Neil said. “Do your friends get to hang out and play with you?”
Reboot paused and took a second to finish his last gulp of smoothie.
“Believe it or not, it’s hard to have friends when you live on a boat,” Reboot said. Sam gave Reboot a pat on the shoulder.
“Hey, guys . . . not to get sidetracked, but are you hungry?” asked Biggs, his stomach gurgling with hunger. “We missed all the concession stands while playing that shark game.”
“Megalodon,” Sam corrected.
“Yeah, and what exactly is that?” said Biggs. “In front of the creator, I was playing it cool, but I still feel like ‘megalodon’ is a type of haircut.”
“Megalodons were almost like huge dinosaurs of the sea and lived about ten million years ago. Think sharks but ten times bigger. Apex predators,” said Reboot. “They ruled the seas during an age far more dangerous than our own.”
“Righteous,” said Biggs.
“But to answer your food question, we can make whatever you want,” Reboot said.
“Our weight in mozzarella sticks?” asked Biggs.
“Hmm. That’s a new one,” said Reboot, rubbing his chin. “How about pizza? What kind do you like?”
“Pineapple!” the three said in unison, remembering their favorite pie from Penny’s Island Pizza.
“Well, pineapple it is,” said Reboot. “Let’s party.”
He wandered out to the fancy kitchen and opened a freezer full of frozen pies. He unwrapped two huge pizzas as Wifi sliced up a fresh pineapple. The rest of the fridges contained an endless supply of energy drinks, juices, travel yogurts, and sodas from around the world. Their labels were in Arabic, Japanese, and Russian. Neil understood that sugar was a universal language.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” said Sam. Neil was speechless. When the pizza was ready, Neil chowed down on slice after slice as Reboot told tales of his high-seas exploits.
