by Mark Frost
“We must be getting close to the lake,” said Ajay.
They passed a few dark openings, leading off in either direction. As they neared the far end of the big chamber, the walls narrowed down again, until finally they reached a finished wooden door frame leading to another tight, carved tunnel. They followed the twisting tunnel and fifty feet farther on, the corridor dead-ended in a T-intersection, with two tunnels heading off at ninety degrees.
“Which way do we go?” asked Nick.
At that exact moment, they heard voices and footsteps echoing from far back behind them and erratic beams of light glanced off the rocks in the tunnel.
“Let’s try this way,” said Will, pointing to the right. “Run.”
They sprinted, single file, but the passage soon widened enough to move side by side. The tunnel dipped down even deeper, leveled off for a long stretch, then rose sharply again. Fifty yards farther on, it ended abruptly in a small rock chamber.
These walls had been shored up with timbers that looked newer than any they’d seen so far. A sturdy steel ladder climbed straight up the far wall, into a narrow round chute. Without a word, they pocketed their flashlights, jumped onto the rungs, and climbed with desperate speed into darkness. Fifty feet, then a hundred, losing track of where they were, impossible to see how far they had to go.
“There’s no end to the damn thing—Ow!” said Ajay, in the lead, just as his head bonked into something hard. He stopped and the others piled into him. “Check that—I’ve found the end. Nick, please be kind enough to withdraw your head to a reasonable distance from my hindquarters.”
“Sorry,” said Nick, then turned to Will. “Back up, dude.”
Will dropped down a rung, hooked an arm around the ladder, brought out his flashlight, flicked it on, and pointed up. A wooden hatch, just above Ajay, covered the tunnel where the ladder stopped.
“Open it,” said Nick.
“Many thanks for your helpful suggestion,” said Ajay. Far below, at the other end of the ladder, they heard shouts. Moments later, someone pointed a flashlight up the chimney. The beam didn’t reach them but if their pursuers began to climb, it wouldn’t be long before they were spotted, and trapped.
“Can you open it?” asked Will, whispering.
Ajay pressed his shoulder against the wood and pushed as hard as he could. It rose slightly but he couldn’t lift it. “I need help.”
Ajay slid over to make room as Nick climbed up beside him, and they applied all their weight; this time it lifted a foot, hinging on one side.
“Put your back into it,” whispered Nick. “Come on, bro, we’ve got this.”
“On three,” whispered Will, shoving his shoulders into their rear ends.
At the count of three, they pushed together. The door swung up to the hinges’ balance point, hung there precariously, then fell backward with a muffled thud. They scrambled out onto long, wet grass.
“Close it fast,” said Will.
They scuttled over, lifted the hatch, and dropped it over the opening.
“Is there a lock on it?” asked Will.
“I don’t see one,” said Ajay.
“If we stand on it, they can’t follow us,” asked Nick.
“Yes, you two wait here,” said Ajay dryly. “I’ll go buy a hammer and nails.”
“Where are we?” asked Nick.
“I have no idea,” said Will, looking around.
They were in a small clearing in the middle of some woods. Ajay turned and looked up; his eyes went wide.
“Uh, guys,” said Ajay. He pointed. “It appears we’re on the island.”
Nick and Will turned. The Gothic-style Crag loomed above them, less than a hundred yards away. They were practically in its backyard. The forbidding castle looked enormous from this distance, stone ramparts arching high above them. Dogs were barking, and lights came into view, bobbing toward them from a nearby gate.
“They know we’re here,” said Will.
“How could they possibly know that?” asked Nick.
“Someone must have told them we were in the tunnels.”
“Probably that Paladin fellow,” Ajay said. “He must have alerted the rest of the Peers—”
“Dudes, discuss later?” Nick said. “Those guards are nobody we want to mess with.”
They ran away from the lights, the hatch, and the Crag. A waning moon had risen in the east, offering enough light to dimly show the way. Within minutes, they had passed through the woods and reached the water’s edge. The closest shore stood a quarter of a mile away across the lake. Will put a hand in the water.
“This is the western shore,” said Nick, pointing across the water. “School’s that way.”
“Should we swim for it?” asked Ajay.
“Water’s too cold,” said Nick. “And the guards have powerboats.”
“Let’s grab one ourselves,” said Will.
“There’s a dock on this side of the island,” said Ajay, pointing to their right. “Over this way.”
Behind them they heard shouts and saw lights twisting in the dark as the Peers exiting the tunnel hooked up with the guards from the Crag.
“Hurry,” said Will. “That’s where they’ll look first.”
They ran along the shoreline to their right. A small dock came into view, with a rowboat and motorized tender tied at the end. Two guards stood near shore, under a light on a pole. Will bent down and retied his shoes.
“Wait for me here,” he whispered. “Don’t make a sound. Be ready when I come for you.”
“Where are you going?” asked Ajay.
“To get a boat.”
Will pumped in a few deep breaths and launched toward the dock. The rocky beach provided poor footing but he reached cruising speed quickly. As he neared the dock, Will slowed and waved at the sentries: grown men wearing dark uniforms.
“Hey, how ya doing?” asked Will.
Will sped by the dock. The sentries ran after him, shouting warnings to stop. Will stepped on the gas and turned right, heading inland, narrowly avoiding collisions with the densely packed trees. The sentries gave chase, crashing clumsily through the brush, calling out to the others.
The lights of the group to Will’s right, who had nearly reached the dock, turned and backtracked toward them. Will zigzagged through the woods, dodging and jumping obstacles, making a lot of noise to let the group join up behind him and find his trail.
Will broke into an opening near the castle. He dropped into a crouch when he saw a single silhouette with a flashlight thirty feet to his left. Will recognized the figure’s shape and its awkward, lurching gait:
Lyle Ogilvy.
Can’t say I’m surprised to see him, thought Will. Lyle moved with purpose instead of thrashing around in the dark. He came to a stop and raised his head like a dog catching a scent. Will sensed Lyle was about to turn. He did, but by then Will had ducked behind a tree.
He knows I’m here. He can feel my presence.
Will felt around for a fallen branch and hurled it deep into the woods. Lyle whipped his flashlight in that direction. Will’s other pursuers turned toward where it landed. Will pivoted 180 degrees and sprinted back the way he’d come.
Silently this time. As he focused on quieting his footsteps and tracking the sounds of his pursuers, Will felt his senses tune up to a higher level of awareness. A sudden, specific sense of distance and vector of the sounds all around him, a 360-degree scan. Almost like a grid of the surrounding area forming in his mind’s eye.
As Will let himself drop deeper into this heightened perception, time seemed to slow. He saw his own footfalls before each touched down, and was able to make minute adjustments to avoid anything that might make a sound. He increased his speed, entering a zone where a preview of every move appeared on the “grid” before he committed to it. He felt like a weightless beam of light shooting through space.
Just like that, Will was back at the western shore, fifty yards from the dock. The dock was empty, his pursuers scattered all o
ver the woods behind him. Without breaking stride, Will angled toward the dock.
He “saw” the move before he made it: leaping onto the pier from over ten feet away. As he ran, he pulled out his Swiss Army knife and flicked open its longest blade. Reaching the end of the dock, he soared out over the water. The blade sliced cleanly through the securing line as he landed, perfectly balanced, in the bow of the motorboat. Cut loose from the dock, the boat shot into open water, propelled by his momentum. Two steps to the stern, one pull on the starter, a rev of the throttle, and he was off, banking hard left.
Nick and Ajay splashed out to their knees as Will sluiced a path toward them. He slowed enough for the boys to haul themselves over the gunnels. Will ruddered hard right and zoomed off for the western shore.
Will felt his heightened state of awareness recede as they made their way across in silence. He felt shaky inside, similar to how he felt after “pushing pictures.”
So they’re related, he thought. The speed, the stamina, pushing pictures, and now this. I can do more. I can do a lot more.
Their pursuers didn’t reach the water until they’d nearly crossed the lake. By the time they heard a powerboat behind them, Will had gunned the tender up onto a stretch of mainland beach. They ditched the boat as it stopped in the sand. With the flashlights, they quickly found the running track.
“What time is it?” asked Ajay.
“Ten-fifty. We’ll never make it back before curfew,” said Nick, panting. “Well, Will could make it.”
“We’ll make it,” said Will. “Guys, I just saw Lyle on the island.”
“What?” said Ajay.
“I don’t know if he was in the tunnels or with the guards that came from the Crag, but he was looking for us.”
“Busted,” said Nick, pumping his fist.
“Whatever the hell’s going on,” said Will, “Lyle’s right in the middle of it.”
They ran in silence, fiercely. Will hung behind, pushing their pace as he listened for signs of pursuit. He heard a powerboat sweep by near where they’d landed, but it didn’t come ashore. They passed the Barn without incident.
Minutes later, they passed a security guard driving back in his cart outside Greenwood Hall—for once without a friendly smile—who watched them plow through the front doors, breathless, at exactly 10:59 p.m.
“First things first,” said Will as they ran upstairs. “We’re going to need a lot of coffee.”
PUZZLES
“These are French names,” said Elise, looking at the list.
“Duh,” said Nick.
“Eat your cake, Nick,” said Elise with a withering look.
“Lees, babe, I think we figured out they were French already, okay?” said Nick. “Except for that first one. Orlando.”
“And, pray tell, what kind of name is Orlando?” she asked.
“Hello?” said Nick. “It’s from Florida?”
Four of the roommates sat around the dining table; Ajay had gone to work on something in his room. Everyone but Will had their tablet on in front of them, although Nick was more focused on a slice of chocolate cake. They’d woken Elise and Brooke as soon as they returned and made coffee, and Will told them the whole story about the Peers and the Paladin, Lyle, and the tunnels to the Crag. Minus the monsters—Will thought it best to leave out any supernatural details until he was sure the girls were on board, and Nick and Ajay agreed. When Will was finished, Ajay transferred the photos Will had taken of the masks onto everyone’s tablets. Elise had lit up with interest throughout their account, but Brooke looked and acted remote. At least she was at the table, studying the photographs.
“You’re not here on scholarship, are you, Nick?” asked Will.
“I am totally on scholarship,” said Nick, taking another bite. “Man, I loves me some chocolate cake.”
“For gymnastics, not geography,” said Elise. “I’m half French, you nitwit. I speak and read French. My father’s French.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, what about your mom? She’s not French.”
“She’s Vietnamese, and she speaks French, and these are all, take my word for it, French names. Or more specifically, Frankish. From the Middle Ages.”
“Wicked,” said Nick. “So we know this much, then: They’re a bunch of middle-aged French dudes.”
Brooke touched Nick’s arm gently. “Please don’t talk anymore.”
“Guys,” said Will. “Concentrate. Once we figure out who the rest of the Peers are and what they’re up to, we may have the whole picture.”
“But it’s safe to say they’re not a bunch of middle-aged French dudes,” said Elise, glowering at Nick.
“Let’s focus on this insignia at the top of the list,” said Will, pointing to the photo he’d taken of it on Brooke’s tablet.
Brooke studied the image closely. “These look like they might be white chrysanthemums. We need a reference book on flowers.”
“Where will we get that at this time of night?” said Will.
“I’ll go to the library,” said Brooke, but she made no move to get up.
“How?” asked Will, puzzled.
“On my tablet,” she said.
“I thought they put the clamps on Internet access,” said Will.
“To outside servers,” said Brooke. “Not the ones on campus.”
“You still haven’t taken the tutorial?” asked Elise, incredulous.
“I haven’t had time,” said Will.
“Show him,” said Elise.
Brooke angled her tablet around for Will to see. The image on-screen—a high-def re-creation of their pod’s great room—didn’t startle him. He was getting used to these vastly superior graphics. This was something else.
Around the table sat three incredibly lifelike versions—virtual doubles—of Brooke, Elise, and Nick. And they were looking at him with all the poise and attention and—he didn’t know how else to put it—personality of their living counterparts.
“What in the world …,” said Will.
Elise, Brooke, and Nick laughed. The figures on-screen laughed along with them. None of their actions exactly synchronized with their real-life counterparts’ but they seemed eerily similar; it was like watching three pairs of big/small identical twins.
“What are those things?” asked Will.
“They’re called syn-apps,” said Brooke.
“Short for ‘synchronized synthetic applications,’ ” said Elise.
The fourth chair, where Will was sitting in real life—and where a version of “Will” would have completed the group—sat empty.
“So where am I?” asked Will.
“You haven’t taken the tutorial yet, dummy,” said Elise.
“Go to the library,” said Brooke to her screen. Brooke’s syn-app stood up from the table. The walls of their pod on her screen morphed seamlessly into towering stacks of a vast library. “Find a book on the symbolic significance of flowers.”
Her syn-app waved okay, in a way that seemed utterly Brookeian. Then she walked toward the stacks to find her objective. Will guessed that he was seeing nothing more than a sophisticated “waiting” screen while the computer searched a database, but the effect still floored him.
“Is that the real library?” asked Will.
“A virtually real one,” said Brooke. “A replica of the Archer Library, the main one on campus. With digital versions of all its books and archives.”
Will pointed to the figures of other “students” that Brooke passed, seated in chairs or at tables, browsing through shelves.
“So those are other students’ syn-apps, doing research online,” said Will.
“Exactly,” said Brooke. “All in real time. Like a chat room.”
“Only nobody’s chatting,” said Nick. “ ’Cause it’s a library.”
Will looked at Elise’s tablet. Brooke was gone from her screen as well. And Elise was staring out at Will with the same cocky, sardonic smile the real Elise usually wore.
“So if I take th
at tutorial—” said Will.
“Your tablet will create your own syn-app,” said Brooke.
“And people used to think photographs stole your soul,” said Will, shaking his head.
“Nya-ah-ah,” said Nick.
Elise sighed. “It’s just a graphic stand-in for an intuitive user interface.”
“Yeah, whatever,” said Nick. “Check that at the door, ’cause let me tell you what: having your own little dude is freaking massive.”
“How do they make it look so much like you?” asked Will.
“Sophisticated character-based three-D modeling,” said Elise. “Rendered from your appearance and behavior. The software learns from observing you.”
“To be more like you,” said Nick. “How shwhacked is that?” Nick turned his tablet around. Nick’s character was walking around the table on his hands, making goofy faces. Nick got up and walked around the table on his hands.
“Yep,” said Will. “That’s you, all right.”
Back at work, Elise was examining the insignia on the letterhead above the names with a magnifying glass. “These might be weapons around the edge of the bouquet,” she said. “Or maybe tools.”
Ajay hurried out of his bedroom to join them, carrying his tablet. “Good news. I’ve collated the GPS data I grabbed from the tunnels. Now let’s lay it over a grid of the campus and see what we find.”
Ajay set his tablet on the table. Will snuck a look at it and saw the syn-app version of Ajay moving images around on-screen. Ajay’s double appeared even more elfin than he did, almost like an anime character, with enormous brown eyes.
“Okay, that’s just freaky,” said Will.
“Good gravy, man, haven’t you taken the tutorial?” asked Ajay.
“Not sure I want to,” said Will. “Not after seeing this.”
“I’ve got it. They’re weapons and tools,” said Elise, studying the insignia through the magnifying glass. “The two on top are a sword and a hatchet—”
“Hello,” said Nick. “Just like Paladin dude.”
“And the two on the bottom are a builder’s square … and a compass.…”
“A compass,” said Nick. “That could be a clue. What direction is it pointing?”