“But when?” Theodore asked.
“I really don’t feel like going to school next cycle, do you?”
Theodore rolled off the crystal bench and moaned. “I know we’re gonna get in trouble for this.”
“If you keep acting like that, we will,” Max scowled.
Nugget was a bit of a problem at the start of the spoke as he insisted on going to school this time. Charlie stepped in and smoothed the whole thing over. It only made me feel guiltier for what I was about to do. Once we reached the Illuminate, the four of us lagged behind the other students until we were the only ones left in the plaza.
“You guys ready?” I said.
They each nodded, and we slipped back toward the light chutes.
“The code,” Max groaned. “We don’t know the code to the arena.”
“943-23-555.” Theodore shrugged as we gawked. “I like numbers. I watched Charlie punch them in.”
“Then you go last and punch in for everyone else,” I said.
When we arrived at the arena, we moved quickly toward the lifts that led to the elevated dome.
“We need to stay out of sight until I register us. Any Citizen can read our skins and know we’re not supposed to be here,” I warned.
“Which way?” Max asked.
“Follow them,” Ketheria said, pointing.
Approaching the arena was a sleek, humanoid creature towing four stout and muscular aliens of different heights, each with its own iron collar. The knudniks were dressed in nothing but charcoal-colored hoods, their huge naked bellies sagging in front of them. The Citizen wore a contrasting hood of black material that clung tightly to her head and covered her shoulders. Her Citizen emblem was a jewel pinned to her snug dress, which puddled on the ground around her, dragging as she walked. Her porcelain arms poked out from the material and clutched four rusted chains, one for each of her knudniks.
“Move!” she barked, and yanked the chains.
“Pick someone else,” Theodore begged.
“No. She’ll take you where you want to go,” Ketheria assured us.
There were no light chutes outside the arena to take us to the upper levels. The Citizen dragged her knudniks to a glass pod that navigated one of the arena’s slanted exterior supports. There were four supports in total. Each one had its own pod. The alien filled her pod with the hooded creatures and waited for us to board.
“We’ll take the next one,” Max called out to her, and quickly directed us toward an empty pod.
“I’m not sure about this, JT,” Theodore murmured.
“You never are,” Max reminded him.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Once we’re registered, no one will bother us. It will be as if Charlie had set it up by himself.”
We tumbled into the pod and sat down. The door materialized, and the pod slid upward. I stared out from the pod and looked out over Orbis 3, growing beneath me. I could see the edge of the ring on both sides and then the blackness of space. Charlie told me once that the atmosphere on each ring was the thinnest at the edges. I wondered if I would ever be free to roam these rings and see it for myself. Before I started feeling sorry for myself again, I reminded myself of the knudniks chained to the Citizen. This view will do just fine, I thought.
When we emptied the pod, the alien was already dragging her property toward a circular counter under a low-hanging blue crystal light. Behind the counter stood a tall alien who appeared to be mostly composed of metal, except for the jaundiced skin stretched over his skull. His arms were like metallic bones, but not shiny and new, more old and weathered-looking. Cables jutted out from the back of his head and attached to different places on his spine. The alien wore a thick red apron and was so tall that he bent over even when the tall female approached.
“Hello, Tinker,” she called out to him.
“What do you have here?” Tinker said admiringly. When he spoke, wheels and wires in his back began to spin and move.
“I want to register some new players. I think they might have a chance to place in the Chancellor’s Challenge this rotation. The big one is quite strong,” she boasted.
Tinker stood tall and scrutinized the biggest alien, caressing the yellowed skin on his chin with long metal fingers.
“Ah, this looks like a fine team. I will be sure to make a wager, but just a small one,” he replied, smiling. Tinker extended his hand, and I noticed his fingers were really an assembly of metal tools and knives, some at least thirty centimeters long. Deftly, he lifted the knudnik’s hood. The alien blinked and turned his head from the light. By accident, his eyes caught mine, and for a brief moment we were both locked in a stare. The knudnik’s eyes were filled with fear and remorse. It wasn’t the first time I had seen this on the Rings of Orbis: knudniks trying to forget the life they left, or struggling with some command barked at them from an incomprehensible Guarantor. I wondered what the alien saw in my eyes now.
“Do it now, JT. While he’s busy,” Theodore whispered, snapping me out of my stare.
We slunk to the far side of the counter, and I shuffled as close as I could to Tinker’s O-dat. With a push, I was inside his computer searching for the files that would register me in the Citizens’ League. I called up the form from the central computer, and it appeared in front of me instantly. The form was simple except for one tiny detail. Every Citizen was assigned a personal data key for their transactions. What was Charlie’s code? I had no idea. Was it a number? A genetic ID? What? I called out for Charlie Norton’s data key but nothing came. Where would it be? I thought about giving up right there. I didn’t want to do this to Charlie, but if I didn’t, I would be forced to take on Dop without ever playing here on Orbis. I played a million times on the Renaissance; shouldn’t that be enough? For me, it wasn’t.
“Vairocina?”
She appeared inside the central computer.
“Is something wrong?”
“I need some help. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I need my Guarantor’s data key.”
Vairocina just looked at me. “That is not allowed.” She frowned. “You would be severely punished.”
“I need to play Quest-Nest,” I challenged her. “I need to practice.”
“Please don’t ask me to do this. I know I owe you my life, but I would be taking yours if I fulfilled this request.”
She was right. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and now I was trying to involve her.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Please don’t tell anyone I asked you.”
“I won’t,” she said, and slipped away through the portal. I pulled out of the computer.
“All set?” Max asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I need Charlie’s data key and I can’t get it,” I answered honestly.
“Well, that solves everything. Let’s go home,” Theodore said, his tone full of relief.
I watched the Citizen as she registered her players. I was so close, I thought. I was right there! Defeated, angry, I turned for the pods.
Standing in front of me was one tough-looking alien. “Where is your Guarantor?” the alien demanded. “Tromaine is restricted to authorized knudniks only.”
The alien was the about the same size as Charlie, maybe even a little bigger. His head was bald and scarred, and half of his left ear was missing, like someone had lopped it off with a knife. Over his right eye was a piece of thin crystal, attached by ridged wires that went straight through his skin. I could see flickers of numbers and symbols through the crystal, so I guessed it was some sort of screen.
I couldn’t respond.
“Well?” the alien prompted. His eyes, or rather, eye, remained fixed on my face.
This thing blocking my escape to the pods had me in a trance. I wanted to run, to get back to Charlie, but I couldn’t stop staring. Three clumps of hair, wrapped in gold wire and strung with small red rubies, protruded from his jawline. He was dressed in rags of leather and metal, and he carried a helmet. Behind
him stood two more aliens, each as terrifying to me.
“We were told to meet our Guarantor here,” I blurted out, searching his face to see if he bought my excuse.
“If you’re lying, you will be punished. Severely,” threatened the alien.
Ketheria came from behind and stood next to me. She cocked her head a little to the side, staring at the humanoid. He mesmerized her, too. I pulled her back, but she held tight.
“You’re not a Citizen,” she declared. “I can’t tell what you are, but you’re not a Citizen.”
“Ketheria!” Theodore hissed.
The big alien reached his paw slowly toward my sister. Instinctually, I stepped in front of her. The alien grinned. Max tugged at my shirt and I brushed her away. She did it again, and I turned toward her. Max was bulging her eyes and nodding her head to the side. What did she want?
“Behind him,” she whispered.
The big alien heard her. “Him?” He reached for the smaller alien. “Buzz, come here.”
I recognized Buzz instantly. It was the alien we saw stealing the stridling, the one we saw playing Quest-Nest — the wormhole pirate. That meant the big guy . . . was the tracker. I jerked my head back toward him.
“You recognize us now?” he asked.
“We saw you . . . play,” I muttered. I didn’t dare mention the stridling.
“You were good,” Max added confidently.
“Who are you?” Ketheria asked.
I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off Buzz. He was lean and muscular and just as battle-worn as the big guy. Is the big one a wormhole pirate, too?
“He is Cap Ceesar,” Buzz said. “Best tracker on the rings.” Instantly I knew where Buzz got his name. It was as if some sort of electronic vibration amplified Buzz’s voice. It was creepy, to say the least. Max even cringed when he spoke.
“You get used to it,” Ceesar assured us.
“Hopefully, we won’t have the time,” Ketheria said. Her voice was icy, full of contempt.
Where did that come from? I wondered. Ketheria was always more passive than this. For some reason, she really didn’t like these guys. But these guys played in the pro conclave. I didn’t see any Citizen insignia, so I could only assume someone was sponsoring them. Could he help me?
I took my shot and said, “We want to play in the Citizens’ League, but my Guarantor won’t let me.”
“JT!” Max exclaimed.
“Great game, isn’t it?” Ceesar said, relishing every word. “You’d like to play, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I replied.
“But we can’t, not in this league,” Theodore reminded us.
“You can play against us,” he offered.
They were good, really good — but even if we lost, who cared?
“You can arrange that?” I asked.
“If you’re not afraid. Are you afraid?” Ceesar taunted.
“They’re too good, JT,” Max whispered, but I shrugged her off. This was my chance to understand my connection to the wormhole pirate and get experience in the game. The answer was obvious — to me, at least.
“We can play now,” I suggested.
“Let me see what I can do,” Ceesar said, and marched toward Tinker. We all followed.
“Here for some more practice, Ceesar?” Tinker asked.
“Yes, but I need your help.”
Tinker did not reply. He waited to see what Ceesar needed first.
“I wanted to play him,” he said, pointing to me.
“How is he registered?” Tinker swung an O-dat toward him.
“He’s not.”
“Knudniks, then? Who’s the Guarantor?”
“Not here.”
“Citizen?” Tinker’s eye lifted suspiciously.
“None,” Ceesar replied. “See my problem?”
“It’s not allowed. You know that. In fact, they are not allowed to even be here. I could be punished for even speaking with you,” he said, turning toward us.
Ceesar reached inside his ragged jacket and pulled out a glowing purple crystal. I had never seen a crystal like that on the Rings of Orbis. Tinker stared at it, then looked at Ceesar. Tinker wanted that crystal; that was obvious. His eyes glowed and followed every twitch of Ceesar’s hand. Tinker reached for the crystal and stopped when he saw my sister. He stared at her headpiece.
“A telepath?” he whispered. “Come here, child.”
Ketheria did not hesitate and stepped forward. Tinker raised his huge metal hands and gently pushed her hair away from the amber crystal on her forehead. Tinker was so precise with his mechanical hands that he never touched the device, only her hair.
“Beautiful,” he admired. “Crafted by an artist. I pray you are worthy of it.” Tinker snatched Ceesar’s crystal and tucked it into his apron. “I will need a Citizen,” he said, returning to the O-dat.
“Inai Gi Athooyi,” Ceesar replied. “He will appreciate this.”
Athooyi? The Citizen who spoke through the hole in his chest? Charlie had warned me about him. This alien knew Athooyi?
“Shall we register all of you?” Ceesar asked turning toward us.
“No,” Theodore gasped.
“Yes,” Max said, beaming.
Ketheria said nothing.
Tinker kept glancing at Ketheria until he finished with the registration. Ceesar thanked him when he was done, and we followed our new friends below the labyrinth. Buzz was wearing long sleeves, and I was unable to get a close look at the tattoo I had seen when he stole the stridling. Ceesar’s arms were bare, but I could not find any pirate markings.
“JT, are you sure about this?” Theodore whispered, pulling me back behind everyone.
“What? I get to play once before I meet Dop, and we’re tracking a thief in the name of Orbis.”
“That’s not funny,” he argued.
“I’m not trying to be. I don’t want to lose against Dop — and aren’t you even the slightest bit interested in Buzz and that Ceesar guy? What if they are wormhole pirates?”
“Then I don’t want to be following them anywhere.”
“Everything fine back there?” Ceesar called out.
“Great,” I yelled back, and turned to Theodore. “Come on, Theodore. Nothing’s gonna happen.”
We stopped in front of the staging area for knudniks — the same one Charlie showed me when we went for our swimming lessons.
“We know the rules, but we’ve never played here before,” Max informed him.
“Well, who’s the bait?” he asked her.
“I am,” she replied.
“Then follow Buzz here, and he’ll take you to the goal.”
Max turned to me and whispered, “Are you ready for this?”
“Absolutely,” I told her.
Ceesar scoffed. “Cute.”
Max followed Buzz, and Ceesar asked me, “Are you gonna play in that?”
I looked at my clothes. “What’s wrong with them?”
“No helmet? Your choice,” he said. “Follow the crystal lights along the corridor once you pass the ready area.” Ceesar pointed to the hallway slightly to my left.
“Where do you go?”
Ceesar shook his head. “I go that way,” he said with a frown, pointing to another narrow hallway to my right.
“What about us?” Theodore asked.
“Follow him,” he ordered, pointing to the third alien in their group, a little guy with a lot of teeth. “You can sit with him and watch us beat your friends.”
Theodore looked at me and I shrugged. “Unless you want to play,” I said.
“I’ve got him,” Ketheria replied, taking the lead toward a narrow flight of stairs behind us, away from the players’ opening. She stopped and said, “Beat this guy, Johnny.”
Ceesar laughed and slipped down the corridor, leaving me poised at the entrance to the labyrinth. This is it, I thought. This is what I wanted. While I stood there under the stone arch, I wondered if my father ever stood in this place. Whe
never any thoughts of my father came into my head, I had always pushed them away, but standing here made all the rumors seem possible for some reason. Who else could have programmed Mother with a training course for Space Jumpers? Still, it was difficult for me to swallow, even after my long discussions with Toll on Orbis 2. Considering the idea, trying it on for size, always resulted in a feeling of despair — as if a big piece of me suddenly disappeared, and I would feel truly alone. If my father were a Space Jumper, would he even have been human?
Am I not human?
Yet now, waiting to step onto the playing field, I was filled with a warm comfort imagining my father standing in this exact spot. The idea was mind-boggling.
The inside of the ready area was moist with steam. Warm water misted from the walls, and a lot of the stone was covered with a light moss. It felt very organic for such a technological structure. I never would have pictured this from the outside of the arena, but then again, it was for the knudniks.
At the far end of the ready room, carved in the stone, was a narrow passageway lined with blue crystal lights. I followed the lights down the hall for more than fifty meters. The crystals were mounted closer and closer to the floor the farther I traveled. At the end of the tunnel, a large pulsing crystal was embedded in the floor, beseeching me to step on it.
I walked onto the crystal, and instantly a semicircular energy shield sprang up in front of me. A pulsing light passed from the stone to the shield, quickening its pace as if it were searching for something. Is this how they decide who gets the sort first? It was a detail I had overlooked with Vairocina. But the pulsing stopped with a flash, and three diamonds, stacked above and around the Orbis insignia, appeared in the energy field. In the center of each diamond shape was a word: SOLID, LIQUID, or GAS.
I would choose first in the sort.
I immediately selected SOLID, and the shapes spun away. What would Ceesar choose now? What had he chosen when I watched him play? I needed to know these things if I were ever going to be good at this. How does Dop choose? I wondered if it was more important to see him play than to play myself.
It was too late now. The diamonds returned to my shield, and this time my choices were TECHNOLOGICAL, INDUSTRIAL, and MAGICAL. I knew this was another weapons parameter. Both the second and third stages of the sort determined the kind of weapons we would use to defend ourselves. If I picked TECHNOLOGICAL and Ceesar had already picked MECHANIC, I might get plasma rifles. I liked those. I had used them a lot on the Renaissance. But what if he’d picked PSIONIC? Choosing TECHNOLOGICAL might only give me invisibility cubes. Nothing wrong with that, I thought. MAGICAL forced me into a world of OIO and alien mysticism. I wasn’t too keen on those, but I knew Max might be good at that on the return run. You’re wasting time! my mind screamed at me. I needed a strategy. When I had practiced with Vairocina, I saw each stage of the sort and I discussed them at length with Max. This was different, though — very different.
Wormhole Pirates on Orbis Page 10
