NetherWorld
by Daniel Quiles Pagan
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2010 by Daniel Quiles Pagan
Kindle Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
ISBN 978-1-4580-6295-6
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
There is not enough space to name each person who influenced and supported me in this endeavor. You have all made a difference in my life and helped shaped my world view. Still, I owe a special thanks to Brian Turner, Harry Brewer, Brian Fiore, Karena Smith and my sister Elena Wilkinson. A final thank you to my parents, who always emcouraged me to pursue my dreams.
Chapter 1
Our Hero Plays a Computer Game
Book of TranFor: The Song of Strings tells of the link. Karbon made, but master of code, he will rescue the Nethers from certain deletion. The Chosen One will reveal himself in the maze of tunnels.
On a planet much like Earth, in a galaxy much like our own, a young man rushed into his standard suburban home. The house was located in an ordinary development in a rather unremarkable part of town.
“I’m home. Headed upstairs. Lots of work to do,” Nick called out.
“Sure. Heard that before. You’ll be on the video game all night. That’s what you mean,” responded his mother from the other room. “Just don’t stay up all night. And keep the music down this time.”
“Ok. What’s for dinner?”
“Just ask PAL. I haven’t checked the computer yet.”
On Karbonon, food is replicated in Meal machines. Drinks are mixed in Beta Blenders. Very little preparation is done by hand. In fact, most people would not know how to make a simple sandwich. They barely knew how to cut their toenails. Each room had its own automated assistant. PAL was the automated assistant for Nick’s room.
Unaware of his role in the pivotal war about to be waged, he shuffled upstairs. The front door closed behind him with no assistance. Hallway lights switched on as he entered the area. His bedroom door slid open, exposing his cluttered room. An unmade twin bed in the left corner sat beside a standard issue bureau. Facing the only window in the room was a small desk with his computer.
As Nick walked in the bedroom, the automated slid shut behind him. His computer booted up with the usual bleeps, beeps and hums while a music pod on the dresser began playing his most recent collection of subversive songs. Little purple spider-like robots scurried around his twin bed, folding sheets and shifting pillows. Round robots scrambled along the floor, busily sweeping up food crumbs and other teenage fallout. They looked like upside down cake pans floating over the crumb laden carpet. All this activity took place without Nick lifting a finger.
“PAL, what’s for dinner?”
A holographic avatar materialized in the center of the room. Sporting exaggerated feminine curves and overly symmetric facial features, PAL was quite the looker. Each automated assistant could be tailored to the tastes of the programmer. Nick, being a hormonal young man created a curvaceous young model as his PAL. Of course, a modicum of decency was demanded by his mother, requiring Nick to restrain his hormonal designs.
“Hi Nick. Tonight’s dinner is pasta with a side salad,” PAL responded with a smoky tone that tickled Nick’s libido.
“Crap! Can’t they make anything else?” Nick complained.
“Your parents have programmed the nutritional requirements. Unfortunately Nick, you have already consumed your allotted portion of indulgent foods for the week.” She sounded a bit like the classic Hollywood starlet from noir films back in the forties.
“Super. That’s just super. Good thing I stored some chips in the bureau.”
“The chips were found by the spiderbots upon routine inspection. Your mother had them destroyed.”
“Double crap! Even my own spiderbots have it in for me.” Nick exhaled excessive frustration and returned to his keyboard.
Nick was a tall slender teenager that spent too much time playing video games and hacking his way into well protected websites, just to prove he could do it. His face, a minefield of acne scars, added to his penchant for isolation. The zits have almost subsided, but he will carry the pockmarks throughout his adult life. Sadly, in high school, the visual trumps any other qualities a student may have to offer.
Computers just came naturally to him. As far back as he could remember, programming and surfing the internet were easy. He used these skills to alter grades, order the latest games on someone else’s credit, and so on. Nick eventually became somewhat of a celebrity in cyber circles. He was more than capable of cracking some of the most heavily encrypted code. Occasionally he was caught and punished for these cyber trespasses; but his parents had the resources to purchase lenience from local law enforcement.
Nick also helped people with his technological wizardry. He procured groceries and other household fare for his parents at cut rate prices. For the most part, he was harmless with his computer machinations. Still, boredom and idle time conspired to lead him in wayward web directions.
Nick’s talent with people was another story. He was not the most popular kid at school. In fact, he was barely noticed. His scabby face was a date deterrent. He never really tried to date because his appearance made him far too shy. His school days consisted of lonely walks down crowded hallways.
People who got to know Nick found him quite odd. Sadly, most of his high school interactions were limited to Nick performing academic break-ins for the popular group. Once these tasks were complete, they went right back to ignoring him.
His challenge was getting people to want to pay attention to him and not his skills. How do you start this process? Does it begin with fashion, clear skin or athletic ability? He spent most of his time alone on the computer because of his facial insecurities. While this further isolated him from others, it also enhanced his ability with these machines.
Nick puts his hands into his long dirty hair and pulled it back. He initially grew his hair out to hide the unsightly blemishes that arrived after eighth grade. Sitting at the desk, he began another long night of touring his favorite online video game.
“Computer is on Nick. Ready to play SubWay Hero?” asked PAL in her trademark throaty tone.
“Load it up, PAL”, responded Nick. Every room in Nick’s house has a computer personality in charge. As his Room Server, PAL controls all the automated creatures attending to his bedroom. Subway Hero was Nick’s favorite video game. To date, it was one the most immersive role playing experiences on the market. In this game, the primary goal was to rescue SubMan from a ruthless demon. Once free, the player joins with SubMan to take on the most powerful evil in the SubWay. SubMan was being held prisoner behind the Door of Dementia.
The demon guarding this door was one of the most challenging creatures to eliminate. All who tried were thrown into a river of bubbling molten lava. The only other way to get beyond the Door of Dementia was by answering a challenging riddle posed by the creature. This was no easy task. To date, no one had been able to pass the Door to join up with SubMan.
“As you wish, Master Nick”, said PAL. In less than one second, Nick’s avatar stood at the Subway gates. Wearing shiny silver armor, he was ready fo
r a night of shredding mutant creatures and crawling through the dank tunnels of the underworld.
Subway Heroes was a very popular video game among teens. The seemingly endless arrangements of tunnels kept adventurers busy for weeks and weeks. Nick liked the game because it didn’t require joining a clan to achieve success. Most modern games required some sort of cooperation between players. Nick preferred to work alone; he worked better that way. Any additional Karbon player would just slow him down.
“Enter the tunnels at your peril, Silver Knight!” warned a resonant undead voice. Since no one could kill the Demon, they had to deal with his riddles. The Demon had a very tough series of riddles for any player wishing to gain passage beyond the door. The riddle changed every time someone approached the door. This prevented Players from preparing for the Riddle, making it nearly impossible to solve. Thus far, no one had answered it correctly.
Nick’s avatar, a big beefy knight, wielded a glowing blue sword, lighting his way down the dark subway tunnels. Neon green liquid drip and dropped from the arched brick ceiling. Yellow eyes peeked out from the distance, another set of mutants waiting to attack. He had to get pass these rabid tunnel dwellers to get to the Door of Dementia.
As Nick approached the Door, large mutant wolves stood poised to attack from narrow alley passageways. Their green tinted fur stood on end, making them appear even larger. Snarling mouths revealed sharp canines glistening with the blood of past avatars. One bite from these diseased beasts and his Silver Knight would suffer a gruesome end.
Leaping out in front of our hero, they began stalking in his direction. Yellow eyes glowed in the dim subway light, casting a menacing pose.
Nick quickly pulled his sword to attack position. Blue tinted metal swiped at the beasts, while his knight barely dodged the snapping jaws on one of the wolves.
The animals circled back to reorganize, growling instructions to one another in some beastly language. After circling the Silver Knight several times, they leapt toward him from opposite directions. About to be overwhelmed by the new attack, Nick had to think fast. He keyed in a full circle spin that whips his sword around in rapid rotation. Each creature launched at the same time. Flying in mid air, jaws open, they fell towards his avatar. Nick’s knight spun into a blur of silver and blue. His shiny blue sword severed their heads before they landed. Yellow eyes rolled on the subway floor as the heads tumbled away. Green blood sprouted from their twitching bodies, splattering Nick’s Silver Knight. Seconds later, their headless corpses fell limp on the tunnel floor. It appeared the beasts were no match for our hero.
Next was the Door of Dementia. No one had ever been able to pass through this door, including Nick. The bloodthirsty Demon guarded the passageway day and night. Tall, scaly and red, this horned humanoid beast smiled a wicked grin at the next victim. Players from all over Karbonon have blogged about proposed methods to take down the darned Demon. Countless attempts have all ended with the same result…avatar assassination.
In order to pass this Door, the avatar must answer The Riddle. Far too many players have given up after trying again and again. Nick’s most recent attempts had produced the same deadly outcome. Such was the case last night.
“Wrong. Now prepare for your destruction”, the Demon said to Nick’s helpless character in a deep, haunting baritone. Within seconds a trap door opened in the floor. A river of yellow and red lava percolated below. Upon providing the incorrect answer, his doomed avatar dropped, flailing until it reached the searing lava below. Ear piercing screams followed until the bubbling lava swallowed the character. Skeletal remnants surfaced and flowed along the lava current until they dissolved away. Nick hoped to avoid such a brutal end this time around.
After watching the Demon melt another hapless gamer’s avatar, Nick prepared for his turn at the monster. “Next!” announced the sated Demon. Dripping spittle out of each corner of his mouth, his tongue licked jagged discolored teeth. You could almost smell the stink of the rotted scaly creature. Frustrated, Nick continued to try a myriad of solutions to beat the horned beast. To any normal gamer, the situation would appear hopeless.
Nick had a plan though. After failing so many times, he decided there was another way to get past this door. With a little effort, he was able to access the computer code that runs the Riddle part of the game. Last night, he hacked into the game and inserted some new code. This trick would work only once. After that, the game designers would catch on and remove the instructions Nick programmed. If Nick waited too long, the periodic updates to the program would eliminate the code as well. Thus, it had to be tonight. There was no time to waste.
Nick’s avatar sheathed his bloody sword and marched toward the door. This has got to work, he thought. His palms began to sweat as he approached the Demon. His nervous knee was bouncing up and down to a rapid internal beat, nearly banging the desk each time. His jaw stiffened as he grinded his teeth. All of his research, effort and programming were about to be tested. If he succeeded, he would become an online hero. Gamers would blog about the Legend who took down the Demon.
“Silver Knight, answer the Riddle and enter the Door of Dementia”, boomed the Demon in a deep voice that shook the speakers. “Answer incorrectly and certain death awaits you,” he warned. Cracked nicotine stained teeth filled his wicked wide smile as he salivated. “What say you?” he drooled.
“Ask your question, Demon,” responded Nick. His avatar stood proud at the doorway. His shining silver armor glistened under the green subway goo droppings.
“The Night Eater lacks the tools that wax the moon. It paints the sky with vacant stares. The dawn kills the squealing owl with the secret words. Name these words or face your destiny in the Pit”, demanded the Demon. An image of the pit popped up beside his scary frowning face.
“Why bow to the mother bongo?” said his avatar. Nobody would come up with that gibberish, he thought.
A few very long seconds of silence ensued. Would it really work, he wondered. After so many failed attempts, doubt began to creep in. Nick drew a deep breath and exhaled his worries.
The Demon’s toothy smile vanished. A terrifying screech ensued. Moments later the scaly Demon began to melt. His feet dissolved into a pool of red liquid. His outstretched red arms flailed for something to grasp, as the rest of his body sank into the crimson pool. Jagged yellow teeth floated atop the demonic soup, while steamy smoke rose in twisted trails. The once invincible Demon was finally destroyed; beaten by Nick’s clever programming.
A loud rumbling noise shook through his speakers and rattled the room. The stone door that once blocked the entrance into the realm of Dementia slowly opened. Darkness peaked from behind the stone. Completely black, he would need to use his torch to traverse the special tunnel. SubMan awaited on the other side. He would be the first player to ever rescue SubMan.
“Yes!” exclaimed Nick, pounding his fist with excitement. His programming worked. “Take that you stupid beast”, he chided the already deceased Demon.
Before he could move his avatar into the tunnel, something strange began to happen. His character was frozen. What a terrible time for a crash! This can’t be happening, he thought.
“No! No! No! Don’t die on me now!” Sweat began beading on his forehead. All that work, just to be erased by a system failure.
A small wisp of smoke drifted in from beyond the door. This blackness began to twirl round and round. It looked like a tiny black hole, twisting faster and faster, while windy sounds swooshed through his speakers. Maybe, this was all part of entering Dementia.
“Whew!” said a relieved Nick.
He tapped his foot with excitement. Whenever he was nervous or excited; Nick would tap his left foot. Whatever is behind that door must be fantastic. All his effort was about to pay off. This would give him bragging rights for weeks among his techno friends. What happened next was completely unexpected.
As the dark hurricane from beyond the door grew more powerful, his monitor began to change. The black sto
rm swelled, growing well beyond the doorway passage. A swirling cloud now covered his entire screen. He could feel wind swishing around him. Computer games have become so realistic. With the exception of smell, many games have found inventive ways to stimulate the remaining complement of senses.
“Wicked!” Nick exclaimed. Was he imagining things, or was there really a wind pulling him toward his monitor? Sure felt like wind. The storm began pulling his hair towards the monitor. Long tangles of unkempt dirty hair danced toward the screen. This was just a bit too real for Nick. A hint of panic began to set in. Never had a game produced such a physical effect. This was either some novel software or he was having a whopper of a hallucination. Things were getting out of control.
The wind storm battered the cleaning robots in the room. First they simply stopped working. As the storm spread they rebooted and began moving in random directions. Strange high pitched sounds squeaked from their speakers. The machines actually sounded scared, if that was possible. Their movement became more frantic and unpredictable. Eventually they crashed into each other, scattering purple spider legs across his already littered carpet. The burning smell of grinding engines filled the room, as the cake pan robots sped around in circles.
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