by V M Jones
‘They remind me of something,’ murmured Kenta.
‘They remind me of Karazan,’ said Gen grimly, ‘and the puzzles that appeared on the parchment in the Temple. Remember how they made no sense at all, and then …’
I frowned at the screen. Gen was right — but there was more. ‘It’s not just about what they mean,’ I said. ‘Rich is right — if Q didn’t write them, how did they get here? Where did they come from?’
Even as I said the words, I realised I already knew the answer — to the second question, at least. And as the truth — the impossible, unspeakable truth — slowly crystallised in my mind, Gen spoke quietly in the silent room. ‘We … under … stand. You, under take. Throw … under to? No, that can’t be right …’
‘It’s to, over throw,’ said Jamie, looking sick.
‘King Karazeel,’ whispered Kenta, so softly I could hardly hear her.
My eyes swivelled over to Q, sitting slumped on the chair in front of the computer screen. He didn’t look up at me — didn’t look at any of us.
‘What have I done?’ he whispered. ‘Oh, children — what have I done?’
‘I still don’t understand,’ said Jamie. ‘OK, so Q’s new game — Power Quest to Karazan — is about a quest to overthrow an evil king. Sure, there are parallels with the real world of Karazan, but — it’s a game, for goodness sake!’ His voice rose to an indignant squeak.
‘What’s real weird is that this message … well …’ Rich was frowning with concentration, ‘that it’s from Karazeel. Him, or his sidekick, that creepy Evor. Or both. But how can it be?’
‘Karazeel must have found a way of hooking into the link between the computer system at Quested Court and the microcomputer we left in Shakesh,’ I said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. Jamie — who’d left the tiny computer behind — blushed scarlet.
‘The VRE interface …’ whispered Q. I couldn’t bear to look at him.
‘So somehow — and this is the bit I really don’t understand — Karazeel and Evor have kept tabs on Q while he’s been working on his new game …’ Rich stumbled on. ‘And —’
‘And now they think it’s real — that Q’s planning some kind of attack on Karazan,’ Gen finished bleakly.
Again, that shadowy face hovered on the fringes of my mind. ‘Q,’ I asked hesitantly, ‘were you aware of anything odd — unusual — when you were working on this game? Different from the others, I mean?’
‘Only that it seemed to go so easily — almost writing itself, as I told you before, Adam,’ said Q miserably. ‘Ideas came into my mind in a … a flood of inspiration, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. There was such a sense of immediacy …’
‘The face on the cover of the game,’ I asked reluctantly. ‘Was that part of it?’
‘Yes,’ whispered Q. ‘It came into my mind as I wrote, as clearly as a face in a dream.’
There was a long, awful silence. Then Rich spoke up, sounding unnaturally hearty. ‘So now old Karazeel’s got totally the wrong end of the stick. He thinks you’re having a go at him, when really it’s all just a game. The solution’s simple. Tell him.’
At last Q looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ‘Tell him?’ he repeated. ‘But … how?’
‘Same way he told you,’ said Rich with a grin. ‘If he can type a message to you, you can send one back. Like e-mail. Let’s give it a go!’
Once again, Q raised his fingers over the keyboard. ‘I don’t see how this can work …’ he muttered; but then, very slowly, he started to type. While before the keyboard had seemed frozen, now white letters appeared obediently on the screen:
it is only a game
‘Full stop,’ whispered Jamie. Q typed it in:
‘What now?’ he asked helplessly. None of us knew. We waited.
‘Maybe you need to press Enter or something,’ said Jamie at last, ‘to make it —’
Q didn’t. Slowly, letter by letter, a reply was appearing on the screen.
computer games
mind games
war games
Then suddenly Q’s fingers were flying desperately over the keyboard, rattling off word after word as fast as machine-gun fire:
NO!!! It’s not REAL don’t you see it’s all pretend it’s got nothing to do with you please don’t feel threatened or angry please it’s just
Q’s fingers tapped on, but now no new words were appearing on the screen. At last his fingers slowed, and stopped. Again, we waited. Then:
the best form of defence is attack
For a long moment no one said anything. We were all staring at the words on the screen, hardly daring to think what they must mean.
Then the white writing was replaced by a single word:
watch
It hung there for a long moment, suspended in the darkness. Then it dissolved, and in its place appeared a creature, in the very centre of the screen. It was maybe five centimetres tall, three-dimensional and in full colour. At first, only its back view was visible, and for a second I thought it was an armadillo — one of those animals with thick, overlapping armour of gold-coloured scales tapering down to squat, muscular legs and a stumpy tail. But then it rotated, twisting and turning like an astronaut in space, as though someone somewhere was controlling it using a mouse or a joystick … and when it was facing us, I saw it was nothing like an armadillo at all.
Its head was covered by small overlapping plates, with tiny, scrunched ears like a hyena. It had the face of a rabid dog, black lips curled back to reveal razor-sharp fangs, eyes burning red as coals with rage and hate. Its hands gripped the hilt of a short, vicious-looking sword with serrations down both edges of the blade. I shuddered to think of the damage they could do.
The creature stared out at us, and for a crazy moment I felt it was somehow really seeing us. Its eyes bored into mine, and it bared its teeth in a silent snarl.
Then, as we watched, the single image suddenly became two: clones of each other, identical in every way, side by side in the blackness. They shrank down tiny in size, so you could hardly make out what they were; then the two became four, the four sixteen, the sixteen a multitude that filled the screen.
‘He’s copying them,’ breathed Jamie. ‘Control C: copy.’
The screen turned black.
‘No,’ whispered Q. ‘He can’t do it. There’s no way for an adult to pass through the computer, let alone … creatures like that. It’s impossible — the code that would allow it to happen simply doesn’t exist. He’s bluffing. He has to be.’
And impossibly, it was as if the computer heard him.
the missing code has been written
the creatures of darkness will pass between the worlds
as easily as through an open door
They were the same words Q had said to us long ago — and somehow that, more than anything, curdled my blood. Staring at the computer screen, I realised that if there had once been a barrier between fantasy and reality, it was there no longer.
The door was open.
Slow and unstoppable, the letters continued to type themselves one by one on the black screen:
soon
The only plan
‘If there’s even the slightest vulnerability in a system, it’s relatively simple for a competent hacker to infiltrate a computer network,’ Q told us miserably.
We’d crept out of the computer room as if the walls had ears, shutting the door on that single, menacing word staring out from the black screen. We were in the library with the door closed; Q had lit the fire, even though it was the middle of the day and not particularly cold. We all understood why.
‘Yeah,’ growled Rich, ‘but King Karazeel isn’t a comp-whatsit hacker. He doesn’t even know what a computer is! Karazan’s stuck way back in the dark ages as far as all that stuff’s concerned, Q — you know that better than anyone!’
‘So how …’ began Jamie. Then suddenly his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. ‘Oh.’
‘Weevil.’ I
t was Gen who said the name that was in all our minds.
‘No!’ said Kenta fiercely. ‘He wouldn’t! Never! You were wrong about him, Adam! He —’
‘Get real, Kenta; he must have. Old Blue-bum’s sold us out to Karazeel,’ Richard said, shaking his head.
Then slowly, reluctantly, the whole story of Weevil came out, while Q listened in silence.
‘But I don’t see that it matters!’ Richard finished angrily. ‘Even if Weevil has changed sides — even if Karazeel is planning to send hordes of computer-generated monsters through the VRE interface — well, it’s simple, Q. Turn the damn thing off! Unplug it and chuck it in the lake — and that’s the end of it!’
But I’d been watching Q’s face while we spoke, and seen it settle into a bleak greyness that half-prepared me for his next words. ‘From what you’ve told me, children, your young ‘friend’ is more than competent. The situation is far, far graver than I feared. At first I couldn’t understand the extent to which my control over the system had been sabotaged; but now I can. What has happened is this.
‘Once the source code of a server has been compromised, it’s possible to change a kernel file to give an attacker unauthorised access to operating systems built with the affected source code.
‘From there, a program can be created to send improperly formatted remote procedure call messages to a vulnerable machine. Those messages cause a buffer overflow that enables the attacker to place and run their own computer code on the machine, without requiring the owners to open an e-mail attachment, or in fact perform any action at all other than simply turning the computer on.’
‘Huh?’ said Rich.
‘Go on,’ said Jamie in an odd little voice.
‘The exploit code would open an interface on the vulnerable machine that would enable the remote attacker to issue commands … and to take complete control of the system,’ went on Q, as tonelessly as if he was reading from a manual.
‘I don’t get half of that,’ said Rich gruffly, ‘but I still say: throw the vulnerable machine in the drink — now, quick, before something comes crawling out of it!’
But Jamie had gone very pale. ‘Don’t you all see?’ he said. ‘It works like a virus — and it’s to do with the vulnerable machine, like Richard says.
‘But it isn’t one vulnerable machine, is it, Q? It’s vulnerable machines — every single computer belonging to every single kid who’s ever bought a copy of a Karazan computer game.’
For a long time, the only sound was the crackle of the fire. Then at last Gen spoke, her voice the merest whisper. ‘So some time soon, somewhere in the world, a little kid is going to turn his computer on … and it’s going to mean the end of everything for all of us.’
Q stared into the fire. Tiger Lily hopped up onto my lap with a soft chirrup, tucked her nose into the crook of her paw, and settled down for a snooze. Automatically, I stroked her silky head, listening to the soothing rumble of her gentle purring.
It would be so easy to imagine everything was OK — the same as it had been an hour ago. But we all knew it wasn’t, and never would be again.
A time bomb had started ticking when Jamie left the microcomputer on the guard table in Shakesh … or even before that, when Q first had the inspiration for his final game; and now it was about to blow up in our faces.
‘And there isn’t a single thing we can do about it,’ said Rich flatly.
The rumpled plaid rug on the sofa gave a wriggle and a heave, and a dishevelled little head popped out, dandelion hair mussed and face still smudged with sleep. ‘Hannah!’ cried Q in alarm. ‘I had no idea you were here!’
Hannah’s eyes were wide awake, and one glance at them told me she’d heard everything. ‘Will monsters truly come out of a computer, Q?’ she asked solemnly. ‘Real ones — not pretend?’
‘No, Chatterbot,’ said Q, jumping up and trying to shepherd her to the door. ‘Don’t you worry your little head about a thing! You run along now and ask Nanny to make you a fairy sandwich for lunch …’
I could have told Q he was wasting his time. She wasn’t having any of it — not Hannah. ‘No!’ she said sternly. ‘I heard what you were saying, and even though you didn’t explain it very well, I understood it all. And I heard what you said too, Richard, about not being able to do anything to stop it happening. Well, you’re wrong! There is something! It’s just like in the dungeon in Shakesh: we have to make Plan B. He hasn’t thought of it yet, but he will — won’t you, Adam?’
I looked at her. My heart felt like it was made of lead, but I couldn’t help smiling. She was still skinny and frail-looking from when she’d been sick, as if a puff of wind would blow her away. But her eyes were bright and fierce, and her starry spikes of white-blonde hair were practically sending out electric sparks of energy and determination. She met my gaze full-on, with a hundred and ten percent confidence and trust.
‘Sure I will, Hannah,’ I heard myself say. ‘You’re right: there’s always a way. It’s just a question of finding it.’
Even as I said the words, I realised I already knew what needed to be done. The knowledge had been there all along, pushed away into the depths of my subconscious. But now I saw clearly there was no other way.
‘It’s not Plan B, though, Hannah,’ I told her. ‘This time, there’s no Plan A and Plan B. There’s only one plan: only one thing we can do. It’s simple.’ The others were staring at me. I took a deep, deep breath. Once the words were said, there’d be no going back.
‘Karazeel was right: the best form of defence is attack. Except it’s not him that has to do it: it’s us. Just like in Q’s computer game, King Karazeel must be overthrown — before it’s too late.’
For a long moment, no one said anything. Then Jamie spoke up, putting his finger on the obvious flaw in what I’d said, just like I’d known he would.
‘But we can’t, Adam! Don’t you remember? Hob said so, and Kai. There’s only one person who can defeat Karazeel, and it’s not us five kids. It’s that guy Zephyr, the Lost Prince of the Wind. So you see,’ he finished, on a distinct note of relief, ‘there’s nothing we can do.’
‘Yes there is,’ I said slowly. ‘We can find him.’
A promise to Q
Talking Q round was harder than I thought. Before, when Hannah’s life and safety had been at stake, he’d been quick to see that there was no alternative. But this time, with the whole future of the human race hanging in the balance, he hummed and haa-ed and wrung his hands and wittered away about sending us into danger, until at last Rich ran out of patience. ‘Don’t you see, Q,’ he said bluntly, ‘we’re in just as much danger if we stay right here. The only difference is that by having a go at finding Prince Zephyr, at least we’re in with a sporting chance!’
Q peered unhappily at him through specs more smudged and smeary than I’d ever seen them. ‘I know you’re right, Richard,’ he confessed. ‘It’s just … well … I’ve become so fond of you all, and I feel this is entirely my fault. But I suppose there really is no alternative.
‘However, I want you to promise me that if you do manage to find this Zephyr fellow — and for all we know he may be only a legend — you’ll leave it to him to sort matters out, and the five of you will come straight home.’ Suddenly Q didn’t seem like the bumbling, woolly-headed Q we knew: he looked focused and severe, like a normal parent laying down the law. ‘I mean this most seriously,’ he said sternly. ‘I want a solemn promise from each one of you.’
‘I promise!’ said Jamie.
‘So do I,’ said Gen. ‘After all, Prince Zephyr’s the only one who can overthrow Karazeel — once we’ve found him and told him what’s happened, I think we’d probably just be in his way.’
‘You’re right, Gen,’ agreed Kenta. ‘I promise, Q.’
Rich looked down, scowling. ‘Richard?’ said Q quietly.
‘But, Q — what if he needs help? What if he needs, like, to be shown the way through the shroud to Shakesh, or something? We —’
&nbs
p; ‘I’m sorry, Richard: you give me your promise, or you don’t go.’ We could all see Q meant what he said.
‘I promise,’ muttered Rich with great reluctance.
‘Adam?’
‘Yeah,’ I mumbled. I knew how Rich felt — that finding the Lost Prince would be just the beginning of the adventure. ‘I guess I promise, too. We’ll find Zephyr, and leave the rest to him.’
‘You’ll come straight home?’
‘Yes, we will! We will!’ squeaked Hannah, hopping up and down excitedly. ‘I promise too, Q — I promise too!’
Q scooped her up in his arms and gave her a kiss. ‘You don’t need to promise a thing, Chatterbot. You’ve had all the adventures in Karazan you’re ever going to get — you’re staying right here to look after me, Tiger Lily and Bluebell!
‘And now, children, I have something for each of you.’ Q’s face clouded as he moved among us, handing us each a small rectangular object that felt heavy and somehow familiar in the palm of my hand. ‘I meant these as a little surprise — a thank-you present, if you like, for everything you’ve done for Hannah and me. But now … well, now at least I’ll have the comfort of knowing that no matter what — even if you get separated — each one of you is able to come home again independently of the others.’
I looked down, though I already knew what it was. A microcomputer, virtually identical to the one Jamie had left in the dungeons of Shakesh.
‘But I thought —’ Jamie began.
Q smiled at him. ‘Yes, Jamie: the original was a prototype, the only one in existence at the time. But Nautilus has recently patented the design, and they’ll soon be on sale — at a price, mark you. Expensive toys for wealthy executives and their children … but no money will ever be able to buy the software I am about to install on yours.’ We all knew what he was talking about: the VRE interface that would be our passport back from Karazan.
