The Hunt for Dark Infinity 1r-2

by James Dashner

  “One minute to departure,” the nice electronic lady said.

  Tick squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his back against the soft padding. Thirty-minute trip, he told himself. It’s only thirty minutes.

  The warning for thirty seconds sounded, then ten, then the five-second countdown. When the room started spinning, Tick opened his eyes to look at Paul and Sofia, both of whom were trying to look very calm but failing miserably. This made Tick feel better, and he closed his eyes again.

  The portal spun faster and faster, twisting like a tornado, throwing all of his senses into chaos as the invisible force once again pushed him into the padding, pressing against his body. He held his breath, anticipating the explosion of speed-reminding him of how he felt that split-second before the free-fall ride at the Seattle amusement park dropped fifteen stories to the ground far below. But this was far worse.

  The horn sounded.

  Tick tried to scream as the train exploded into instant acceleration, shocking his mind as it bulleted away from Fourth City. He didn’t know if any noise escaped his throat. Nothing seemed to be working inside his brain, all of his nerves dead to the world, confused and compressed.

  He felt himself sliding away again, moving toward the bliss of unconsciousness. Do it, he thought. Pass out. Anything is better than this. He faded in and out, feeling like every second lasted an hour. He had no idea how much time had passed when everything suddenly went wrong.

  The train jerked, a quick and loud jolt as if they’d hit a cow on the tracks like the steamers in the old days. Then the room shook, rattling up and down, creaks and groans ripping through the air, as if the whole vehicle were about to fall apart. Tick would’ve thought it impossible, but everything had just gotten much, much worse. His stomach twisted into a knot of panicked nausea.

  His eyes snapped open, but they didn’t seem to work. Everything was a blur of color, images and streaks, flashing and tilting- vibrating. He couldn’t even make out Paul or Sofia; everything was messed up.

  What’s happening? he thought. Maybe it’s okay. I passed out last time-maybe this is totally normal.

  But the train shook again, twisted, bounced and rattled. Pain seared through Tick’s head like someone had driven a crowbar into the top of his skull and worked it open, wedging the long piece of steel against his brain.

  A booming crash sounded through the room, a horrible crunch of metal. The train jolted, and the pressure forcing Tick against the wall abruptly vanished. He fell forward and crashed into Paul. They both fell to the floor, landing on top of a crumpled Sofia.

  The next few seconds were complete insanity. The vehicle bounced and twisted and shook, throwing Tick and the others in every direction, slamming them against the curved walls, the floor, into each other. Tick tried to ball up, squeezing his knees against his chest and covering his head with his arms, but it proved impossible. Like a giant gorilla shaking a can of peanuts, the three of them were tossed and jostled about until Tick thought for sure their lives were over.

  And then, with one final crash that slammed them all into one padded side of the curved structure, it ended.

  Everything stopped, grew still, silent.

  The only sounds were the moans coming from the battered humans inside.

  “My arm!” Paul screamed out. “I think I broke my stinking arm!”

  “What happened?” Sofia asked, her voice strained and tight.

  Portal Number Seven lay on its side. Tick and the others were in a crumpled heap on top of each other, resting on one of the curved, padded sections that used to be vertical. With more groans and moans, they crawled away from each other. A hissing sound came from outside, followed by something that sounded like electric sparks.

  Tick sat up, every inch of his body in pain. He looked over at Paul, who cradled his left arm with his right.

  “You okay?” Tick said.

  Paul looked up, a tear streaking out of his right eye. “Dude, it hurts, it really, really hurts.”

  “You think you broke it?” Sofia asked, rubbing one of her ankles.

  “Yeah,” Paul said, his face squeezed into a grimace of pain. “Ah, man, it kills!” Another tear slid down his cheek. Tick looked away, worried Paul would be embarrassed at being seen crying.

  Sofia stood up, wobbling a second before she caught her balance. “We must have crashed or something. We’ve gotta get out of here, get Paul to a hospital.”

  Tick joined her and together they walked across the curved wall to the door, which was about four feet in the air, sideways. It was twisted slightly, and it took both of them ramming it with their shoulders before it finally popped open and slammed against the crumpled white wall of the portal.

  Tick and Sofia made surprised grunts at the same time when they saw where they were.

  “What’s… out there?” Paul asked through clenched teeth.

  Tick couldn’t answer, his eyes glued to the wall of thick, enormous trees beyond the doorway.

  “We’re in a forest,” Sofia said.

  As if the pain had finally sent him over the edge, Paul started laughing.

  Chapter 31

  The Sickness of Sato

  Master George felt his heart breaking in two as he stared at Sato.

  The poor lad thrashed in his bindings, twisting his arms and legs, arching his back as he strained against the ropes tied to his ankles and wrists. He lay on a bed in the holding cell, the sheets a jumbled mess from his spasms and fits of lunacy. Deep bruises marked where the ropes touched his skin, yet he didn’t stop his fruitless efforts to escape.

  He had the illness, the disease.

  Sato had gone quite insane.

  Master George gripped his hands together, wishing so badly he could have just a few seconds of conversation with the real Sato, who was locked somewhere inside the mind infected by Chu’s mysterious plague. The bravery shown by the boy in entering that mountain insane asylum made Master George so proud it hurt. He also felt again the pains of losing Sato’s parents all those years ago, a dreadful death that still made him feel hot, as if the heat from the flying fires of that fateful day had never quite left his skin.

  “We’re going to make everything right,” Master George said aloud, even though he doubted Sato could hear, let alone understand, his words. “Rutger and I are working on the antidote every second of the day. And we’re getting close, very close. Hang in there, lad, hang in there. Your suffering may be the very key that saves us all.”

  Sato stilled, then, letting out an enormous sigh as his body came to rest on the sweaty, crumpled sheets of the bed. Master George leaned forward, terrified he’d made a huge mistake in saying anything.

  “He’s back in my head,” Sato whispered in a chant-like voice that sent chills up Master George’s arms. “He wants to speak to you.”

  “Sato, are you there?” Master George asked. “Even with him in your head, are you there, listening to me?”

  “He wants to speak to you,” Sato repeated.

  “I don’t care about him, Sato. I want you to know that we’re doing everything we can to save you, and that your mission was an enormous success. We are going to take care of you.”

  Sato slowly turned his head until his eyes-glazed over as if drugged-met with Master George’s. “That’s very sweet of you, George. Your softness has always been your greatest weakness.”

  Master George sat back in his chair as if slapped, but he quickly regained his composure. “Am I speaking with you, Reginald? Come to show me how low you’ve finally sunk, have you?”

  “I know what you’re doing,” Chu said through Sato’s mouth. Perhaps it was the eyes, or perhaps it was the unusual tone of his voice, but somehow it seemed like it really was Chu lying there, speaking.

  “Quite smart, aren’t you?” Master George replied.

  A grin appeared on Sato’s face, a grin so evil it made him look like a demon. “Yes, actually. I’m very, very smart, George. Which is why you’ll never succeed in creating a cure for
Dark Infinity.”

  “Who said anything about a cure?”

  “Very well, George. Play your games, insult my intelligence. The day is coming, and very soon, when I will have an apprentice strong enough to make Dark Infinity fully functional. Everything will change, then. You’d be wise to consider your allegiances-I could use your help as well.”

  “What’s your plan, Reginald?” Master George asked, knowing he should just walk away but unable to. “Haven’t you enough power? Why must you ruin so many lives? Why can’t you use your skills to better the Realities? Still not powerful enough to wash away your pathetic loathing of yourself? Quite sad, really.”

  Sato’s face tightened, reddened, any semblance of a smile gone. “What I do, I do for the good of all mankind, George. The Realities need me, and this is the only way to gain the power necessary to change things. In the end, you and everyone else will thank me.”

  Master George leaned forward, elbows on knees, his eyes narrowing. “That sounds quite familiar, Reginald. I’ve heard almost the exact same words come out of the mouth of Mistress Jane. The both of you have merely cloaked your evil with good intentions. We will win in the end, I assure you.”

  “You have-”

  “Silence!” Master George yelled, standing up. “I will hear no more of your lies!”

  He walked out of the holding cell immediately, slamming the door shut with every ounce of strength left in his old body.

  “I’ve never seen such a thick forest before,” Sofia said as they picked their way slowly-very slowly-through the thickly clustered trees. Hoots and howls rang through the air, as if every zoo in the world had released their animals into the woods surrounding them. Pungent smells of rotting foliage, leaves, and bark mixed with the pleasant scents of pine and wildflowers. Tick felt as if all five of his senses were overloaded.

  He and Sofia walked alongside Paul, helping him as best they could when he needed an extra hand. Both of his were occupied-one useless because of his broken arm, the other busy holding the bad limb against his body.

  “Dude, I know I sound like a sissy,” Paul said through his pain. “But this is killing me, man. I want my mom.”

  “Unless your mom is a doctor,” Sofia said, stooping under a massive, moss-covered limb, “I don’t think she’s the one you want right now.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Paul replied. He struggled, doubling over to go under the same branch, his rear end and skinny legs the only way to balance himself with no arms to use. “I want a doctor. Then I want my mom.”

  “ My mom would tell me to quit whining and put a bandage on it,” Sofia said. “Frupey’s the only one who’d care in my house.”

  Tick faltered for a second, almost tripping Paul, then kept walking as if nothing had happened. Paul’s silence showed he must have felt the same way-awkward at yet another sad reference to Sofia’s home life.

  Despite the approaching noon hour, the forest was dark from the tall canopy of limbs and leaves overhead, everything masked in shadow. As Tick pushed through a thick tangle of brush, scratching his arms and legs, he couldn’t help but feel a little desperation at their predicament. They had only a few hours to get back to Circle City, run to the intersection that represented five o’clock, and then find whatever talisman marked their way out of this Reality.

  After exiting the crashed Portal Number Seven, they’d seen the huge swath of ruined forest they’d left behind them, a wide slice of knocked-down trees, many of them burning or smoking. Based on the direction of the fiery trail, they could only guess-and hope-that continuing in the direction the Portal should have been traveling would lead them to their destination. But with the towering trees and thick undergrowth, it was almost impossible to know if they were walking in a straight line or wandering in circles. Everything about the place looked the same.

  “Any guesses on what happened?” Sofia said, practically pushing Paul over a boulder wedged between two trees. His only response was a grunt when he thudded back on the ground.

  “A bomb or something,” Tick said. “It’s probably just another part of Chu’s game. To see if we’d give up or not make it back on time.”

  Paul pushed past an outreaching limb with his shoulder, then let it fly backward to smack Sofia in the face.

  “Hey!” she yelled.

  “Sorry,” Paul said, his pain-racked face somehow showing the slightest hint of amusement to Tick. “No arms, ya know-not much control.”

  “How’d you like to have two broken arms?” Sofia replied.

  “Wouldn’t be much worse than now.”

  They entered a short break in the trees and found a clearing about twenty feet across, covered in bright green ivy. Rays of sunlight broke through, glistening on the dew-blanketed leaves, still damp hours after dawn. Without discussion, all three of them sat down to take a short rest, each finding a fallen tree or rock on which to sit.

  “This is kind of cool,” Paul said, looking around at the border of trees, the green ivy, the cascading sun.

  “Looks like something out of a fantasy book,” Tick said.

  Paul nodded, then winced as if the small movement had hurt his arm somehow. “Yeah,” he said through a tight grin. “Maybe we’ll see some elves.”

  “Or vicious, man-eating monkeys that glow in the dark,” Sofia added.

  Tick sniffed. “Way to look on the bright side of things.”

  “I just thought of something,” Sofia said, ignoring his remark.

  “What?” Tick asked.

  “Chu wouldn’t have any way of knowing we’d take that train today. How could this be part of his plan?”

  Tick shrugged. “We know he’s following us, spying on us. With all his freaky techno gadgets, I’m sure he could make a train crash whenever he wanted.”

  “I guess.” She didn’t sound convinced at all.

  Paul stood after a few minutes of silence, his face wrinkling up like an old man’s. “I can’t take this much longer. We need to get back.”

  “Come on,” Tick said, standing and pointing across the clearing. “I’m pretty sure we need to go that way.” He walked in that direction, Paul and Sofia right behind him.

  “We’re getting close on the antidote.” Master George leaned forward, resting his folded hands on the kitchen table. Mothball sat to his left, Rutger to his right, Sally across from him. Muffintops curled on his lap, sound asleep. “Rutger, why don’t you give us a full report?”

  The robust little man sat back in his chair, somehow resting one pudgy foot on his other knee-a feat that seemed impossible at first glance. “This plague is just about as fascinating a thing as I’ve ever seen. It’s completely nanotechnology based, yet it shows qualities of an airborne virus, as well as some bacterial characteristics. It’s basically an unprecedented mixture of biological manipulation, microarchitectural nanotech computer processing, and cellular airwave transmissions the likes of which we’ve never seen.”

  Sally slammed his thick-knuckled hands on the table. “George, what in tarnations is this fool-headed sack of pork-and-beans yappin’ about?”

  “Fool-headed?” Rutger countered. “Sally, you couldn’t add five plus five using your fingers.”

  “So ya admit it, then?” Mothball said.

  “What?” Rutger asked.

  “That yer a sack of pork-and-beans? Only complained about the fool part, ya did.”

  “Ten!” Sally shouted out.

  Everyone looked at Sally, who held up his hands, fingers outstretched. “Five plus five is ten.”

  “Well, I do apologize,” Rutger said. “I’ve vastly under-estimated your abilities to perform mathematical functions.”

  “Ain’t nothin’,” Sally replied. “I ain’t never been able to reckon how much food you can stuff down that there gully a’yorn.”

  Mothball snorted a laugh, then covered her face as her shoulders shook.

  “All right,” Master George said with a huff. “That’s quite enough of this silly bickering. Rutger, I can
only speak for myself when I say I had a bit of trouble following your analysis as well, and I’ve been working with you from the beginning. Please, tell us again, but this time don’t try to sound so smart.”

  “ Try? Master George, I-”

  “Please, Rutger.”

  Rutger shot a nasty look at Sally, then composed himself, taking a deep breath, which resembled a beach ball inflating and deflating on the chair. “In simpler terms, so all of you can understand it-Sato has nanotechs inside his body that can take control of his brain functions-and therefore his whole body. It’s a technologically created disease, a virus made completely of artificial materials. However, it spreads just like an airborne virus, and once the plague is inside you, the virus can be controlled from a centrally located command center, which happens to be inside the Fourth Reality.”

  Sally threw his arms up in the air. “Well, you done cleared it up, han’t ya!”

  “’Tis a robot germ,” Mothball said. “A wee little robot that makes ya do whatever that ruddy Chu tells ya. Spreads just like the flu, it does.”

  Sally looked over at Rutger, raising his eyebrows. “Now why on mama’s grave couldn’t you a-said it that simple-like?”

  “Because I’m not used to speaking down to your level,” Rutger replied, folding his short, fat arms.

  Sally turned to Master George. “Why ain’t we caught the sucker if it’s liken the flu?”

  “Because we’ve been extra careful,” Master George replied. “We’ve worn gloves when we’ve had to handle Sato. We’ve fumigated his cell room on a regular basis. We’ve worn masks when necessary. It’s a dangerous disease, dear Sally, but it’s not invincible. Not yet, anyway.”

  “What about the antidote?” Mothball asked. “Methinks you’ve got news, ya do, or we wouldn’t be sittin’ ’ere tryin’ to decide which of these two knuckleheads gots the smaller brain.”

  “We’re very close to having it solved,” Rutger said. “Since the whole power of this plague lies in its ability to be controlled from Chu’s headquarters, we think we can kill it in one swift stroke. All we have to do is inject our antidote into the home source, whatever that may be.”