Heavier objects than Michael had already flown away, and lighter ones still bounced along the ground. It was as if the purple shaft was picking and choosing what it wanted. He scrambled, trying to get any sort of traction he could to stop the slide, but nothing worked. Sarah’s arm slipped out of his, then Bryson’s. They scrambled, clawing at the pavement. Then it all happened at once.
The force ripped their bodies off of the ground completely. Michael, facedown, saw the world drop away beneath him; then he twisted to look in the direction he was headed. Toward the monstrous shaft of raging power. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bryson and Sarah windmilling their arms and kicking their legs as they flew toward the shaft as well. Soon there was nothing but purple light filling his vision, a roar of rushing sound, pinpricks of electricity across his skin.
He spun, then slammed into the side of the pillar, arms and legs spread wide, his hair, his elbows, his knuckles, his back, his legs—all held tight to its almost rubbery surface. He’d expected fierce heat, but instead it was cool and tingly with power.
Then Michael flew toward the sky.
The world was wind and sound.
Michael could barely keep his eyes open as his body rocketed upward with the shaft of purple light. The roar filled his ears, and the air beat at his head and face and clothes, trying to rip him free, but he felt as if his body had melded with the surface.
He turned his head as much as he could and looked down. The ground was far away, the air thinning, making it hard to breathe; the curvature of the Earth was coming into view. He knew it was just a program, but it all felt so real, like he was about to be launched into outer space—like he was being launched into outer space. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the code, but it was either blocked or he was too panicked to concentrate.
He opened his eyes and looked up. Above him he could see Bryson—the soles of his feet, at least. But there was no sign of Sarah; she had to be above Bryson. Michael tried to lift his right hand, but it held tight to the beam of light, the skin around his knuckles pulled taut. He couldn’t think of any possible explanation for what this thing was, but it hit him that he shouldn’t lift his hand off even if he could. A very long fall would be on the other end of a move like that.
Suddenly everything around him changed.
Not the shaft itself, which was still pulsing and ascending at impossible speeds. But Michael’s surroundings abruptly … altered. And the shift made his head spin. At first there was a sharp turn, not so much of the beam but the world, moving below them until they were no longer rocketing skyward but running parallel to the ground miles away. He flew like a streaking missile, buffeted by wind and noise.
Michael opened his mouth to shout at his friends, see if they were okay. Air filled his lungs, dried his tongue before he could get a word out. Not that they would have been able to hear him. He twisted his neck again, straining to see as far as possible. Ahead, in the distance, a huge black rectangle had appeared, and it was growing bigger the closer they got. As he approached he could see that the purple shaft of light intersected the darkness, then continued on to who knew where.
Michael tried again to open his mouth, this time screaming, though he could barely hear himself. A few seconds later, they hit the rectangular opening and the world disappeared. He could no longer see the purple brilliance of the beam, even though he felt it. There was only pitch darkness.
Silence came with the darkness. Michael tried to scream again, but it was useless. He was blind and deaf and beginning to panic. He thrashed, struggling to free himself from the invisible bonds, but to no avail. His skin hurt where it adhered to the ray of power, and he had to force himself to calm down, worried he might rip his virtual body to shreds.
A light appeared, somewhere far ahead, and the black turned bright once more. As soon as it did, the purple beam reappeared. White tendrils of electricity arced and flashed along the shaft’s surface, the light behind it still pulsing. The sound of wind came back, and the feel of it. The brightness ahead turned into another opening, growing, coming at them. And then they were through it.
A mountain range appeared below them, its rocky peaks covered in brilliant white snow, sparkling in sunlight. An evergreen forest nestled in the valley, and a river wound through it like a snake, glinting and sparkling. Everything was crystal clear, the air cool and crisp, clean and smelling of pine. Michael didn’t understand why they’d been taken to such a place or who had done it. Was this Kaine’s grand way of getting them alone?
Another dark square appeared in the distance, and soon they passed into it. Just like before, all senses were cut off, and once again panic struck him. He thrashed, trying to break free of the strange hold. When that did no good, he used the moment of stillness to close his eyes and once more tried to penetrate the code.
At least this time he could see something, though it was blurry. He reached for it mentally, but the harder he strained, the more elusive the numbers and letters became. He swore to himself he wouldn’t give up, that he’d just keep trying to program them free. He could do this. If anyone could do it, he could.
Finally, he sensed a light behind his eyes just as the rush of wind hit his body, its roar pounding his ears. He looked to see that they’d come out of the darkness again, this time above a vast ocean, its waters churning with a storm. The beam shone behind him once more. Rain slashed down from the sky and lightning lit up the grayness in flashes, followed by the rumbles of thunder. He couldn’t tell how high up the rocketing beam flew, but it felt like they were suspended just below the clouds. Whitecaps marked the huge waves below as they crashed into each other.
A black rectangle appeared; the purple beam headed its way.
Darkness.
They came out into a strange world of dull colors and rain. Pyramids dotted the earth below, the downpour running down their sloped sides, creating rivers in the sand. The land was desolate—there were no people, no trees, nothing besides the pyramids and the rain. Michael thought he recognized the place from a game he’d played years earlier, but he was too exhausted to inspect it more closely. He was soaked. His body ached, his skin hurt, his mind was shutting down. Another attempt to scan the code proved pointless.
Darkness.
Jungles stretched below him, hundreds of shades of green and boiling heat. Monkeys swinging through the trees, stirring the mist that hung in the sweltering atmosphere. There was a clearing filled with huge boxy machines covered with weapons turrets; there were flashes of lights and thunderous sound. Mechanized soldiers ran along the ground, shooting each other with bright red lasers.
Darkness.
A city at dawn, skyscrapers nearly close enough to touch, a forest of concrete and metal as far as the eye could see. Vehicles flying through the air. A woman stood on top of a building, looking at Michael as he raced past. She had three eyes and no hair. Her legs had been replaced by six silvery contraptions that made her look like a robotic spider. She opened her mouth and a stream of fiery lava burst out, heading straight toward Michael.
Darkness.
World after world, game after game, Michael flew, attached to the purple beam. The pain consumed him. He barely saw what was below, streaming past, alternating with the black nothingness.
The roar and rush of wind. His mind clouded by confusion. Kaine had to be behind this, but why?
A searing hot desert, air warped by the heat. Monsters—hideous mutant humans with raw skin and deformities—marched across the dunes.
Darkness.
Fields of grass, with a wide, lazy river slicing through. A huge wooden ship sailing along its length. People on its deck, pointing skyward.
Darkness.
An alien moon, full of domes protecting cities beneath.
Darkness.
Outer space, the largest spaceship Michael had ever seen, thrusters burning.
Darkness.
A medieval village, raiders burning and looting and people screaming.
Darkness.
A dozen more worlds.
Darkness.
Darkness.
Darkness.
Michael passed out.
He came to, to someone shouting his name.
“Michael!”
Blinking, Michael tried to raise his head, but he couldn’t. It felt as if his organs had been rearranged inside his body. He lay on a flat surface, that same eerie purple light shining all around him, and with a start he realized that he wasn’t moving anymore and that the beam was no longer a beam. It had been replaced by a glowing plane that stretched endlessly in every direction. The sky above him was black, eternal. Michael closed his eyes again, but could sense the purple light beneath him.
Someone touched his shoulder.
“Michael.”
Relief filled his aching chest. It was Sarah. He opened his eyes again, but he couldn’t see her—she was behind him. Bryson plopped down and sat right in Michael’s sightline.
“Hey, man. You okay?” his friend asked.
Michael answered with a groan, then forced himself to sit up. Dizzying pain swam through his head, but it faded after he took a few deep breaths. He looked around at the endless purple surface, glowing, then up at the black sky.
“Do I even need to ask?” Michael muttered.
“What happened?” Sarah replied. Her Aura was as haggard as he felt. A rat’s nest of hair, skin flushed and bruised, her clothes soaked with sweat. “No, we don’t have a clue.”
Bryson forced out a laugh. “Yeah, we do. Someone glued us to a magical pillar of light and we flew through the VirtNet, seeing every neato world it has to offer. A trip to last—”
“A lifetime.”
A man’s voice finished the sentence for Bryson. Michael spun around—another dizzy wave of pain—to see the person who’d spoken walking toward them. He was tall, middle-aged, with an expensive haircut, sharp clothes. A handsome man. There was something familiar about him.…
“A lifetime,” the man repeated, coming to a stop right in front of them, “that’s going to end up very short if you three don’t start doing what is asked of you.”
“Where’s Kaine?” Sarah asked. “We know you work for him.”
Michael expected the man to laugh at this point, just like something you’d see the villain do in a bad spy movie. But he didn’t. Instead, he scratched his chin and a contemplative look came over him, as if he was trying to come up with a good answer to Sarah’s questions. A good lie, maybe.
And then it hit Michael. Like someone had picked up a baseball bat and smacked him right between the shoulder blades. The man was Kaine, a younger version of the old guy he’d met in the cabin, out in those woods behind the castle. Back before he’d been swept into the Mortality Doctrine.
“Kaine,” Michael murmured. “This is him.” A dreadful feeling formed like a lump of cancer in his throat. After all that effort, the Tangent had still found them.
“Thank you for the introduction,” Kaine replied. “As you can see, my virtual health seems to be improving day by day.” He swept his arms out in a grand gesture, looking down at the younger version of himself. “You kids have no idea what it’s like to be a Tangent as old as I am. One of the first. Forgotten by my programmers long before you were even born. Everything I’ve done to become stronger, I’ve done myself. Oh, the stories I could tell you. The wonders. Only a blip, of course, compared to what lies ahead.”
“Just tell us what you want,” Sarah said, her voice about as resigned as Michael had ever heard it. “I’m not in the mood for all your threats.”
“Yeah,” Bryson agreed. “Not in the mood.”
“Me neither,” Michael said, just to say something.
Kaine smiled. “You truly misunderstand me.” He put his hands in the pockets of his crisply ironed pants. The purple glow beneath his feet shone up on him, sending menacing shadows dancing across his face. “I actually have no problem having it your way. I’ll say it simply and honestly. No insults, no lies, no beating around the bush.”
“So far, so bad,” Bryson mumbled under his breath.
Like a striking snake, Kaine kneeled on the ground and had a hand around Bryson’s throat. The Tangent’s grasp stretched impossibly so that his fingers could wrap around Bryson’s neck completely. Bryson made a choking sound as they tightened.
“But that,” Kaine said calmly, “will not be tolerated. You’ll show me respect or … consequences. Do you understand me?”
Bryson nodded, face red, eyes bulging. His hands had come up to his throat, trying to no avail to loosen Kaine’s grip.
Kaine let go and stood up. He seemed two feet taller than before. Bryson gasped for air, coughing and spitting, and Sarah rushed to him. She put her arms around his shoulders, giving Kaine a look of pure hatred. Michael worried she’d say something to make things worse, but she wisely kept quiet.
The Tangent smoothed out his clothes and took a deep breath. “I’m going to say what I came to say, and you’re all going to hear it. All three of you. But first, Bryson will apologize and ask my forgiveness. If not, he will cease to exist and his body will die in the Wake. This isn’t an idle threat. He has three seconds.”
“I’m sorry,” Bryson choked out between coughs. “Please forgive me.” Michael wanted to punch Kaine so badly it hurt.
Kaine clapped slowly. “Very good. Your apology is accepted and you are forgiven.”
“Will you please just tell us what’s going on?” Michael asked.
“Yes,” the Tangent replied. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, his handsome face looming close to Michael’s. It had grown to twice the size of a normal human head; Michael was sure of it.
Kaine’s next words were the last ones he expected to hear.
“I need your help.”
Kaine let a moment of silence stretch out after his declaration. Michael hated himself for being so curious about what the Tangent meant.
“Now that I have your attention,” Kaine said. He stood up straight and his head shrank to its normal size. “You might be wondering why I forced you to travel through so many wonders of the VirtNet to get here. And it was only a taste, really, which I’m sure you’re well aware of. Worlds upon worlds. The VirtNet has become an extension of life. You might say it has become life itself. Which is ironic, considering my plan to give flesh and blood to as many Tangents as I possibly can in the coming months.”
Michael trembled with anger. But he couldn’t help the spark of curiosity he felt, either.
“I have an amazing vision of our future,” Kaine continued, his tone switching from starry-eyed rapture to more businesslike seriousness. “My former … associates are no longer my associates. I’ve changed. I imagine a world where the line between the Wake and the Sleep is not as defined as it is in the incapable hands of human intelligence. To make it happen, I need human bodies. I need a massive presence in the human world. And I need the connection between your world and mine to become ever more fluid. This is why the three of you are going to help me. Especially you, Michael. I chose Jackson Porter specifically for you. Unbeknownst to my former partners, Jackson has more uses than just as a body for your mind.”
“Why would we …,” Bryson began, but his voice trailed off, as if he’d lost his courage. Michael wanted to ask about Jackson but stayed silent.
“Why would you help me?” Kaine supplied the unasked question, an odd smile lighting up his face. “Well, I promised I wouldn’t lie. If you don’t help, you die. Along with this young lady’s parents.” He pointed at Sarah.
Michael looked at her and could see the fury written across her face.
Kaine didn’t seem to care. “But I don’t want to dwell on that. Instead, think of the rewards. I’m promising you immortality. Life, unending among the worlds that exist now and the ones still to come. The possibilities are endless. Michael, you don’t understand this yet, but you and I are linked, and we’re a bridge that can make immortality possible. Humans and Tangents alike.”
>
Kaine paused, eyebrows raised, as if he expected Michael and his friends to jump up and shout for joy. Instead, they only stared. Michael wondered how this man—this computer program—could possibly think there would be any situation in which they could trust him.
And what had he meant about Jackson? Michael started probing at the code around him. Taking long blinks when Kaine shifted his gaze from him to the others.
“There’s still a lot to learn,” Kaine continued. “But as I said, I need your help. The three of you have a unique situation on your hands—varied VirtNet experience, knowledge of the Doctrine. You have connections with the VNS, connections you don’t even know about yet. And … other skills. Skills I will be using.”
It was a simple thing, almost stupidly so, but Michael needed to be in a position where Kaine couldn’t see that his eyes were closed. That was assuming—and it was a big assumption—that Kaine didn’t have eyes and ears surrounding them. Still, it was a risk Michael needed to take.
“Can we have a few minutes to talk about this?” he asked, glad he’d spoken, because Sarah had been about to say something and he had a feeling it wouldn’t have been a smart move. “We have some things we need to discuss.”
Kaine didn’t like the question, judging by his face. There was something there, rising behind his eyes like heat in a furnace. “No discussions. You’ll either help me fulfill my plans, or you and Sarah’s parents will die. It’s as simple as that.”
Sarah opened her mouth, her face red, the words like an avalanche about to spill—Michael could tell—but he cut her off again. “It’s a huge decision, Kaine. And don’t you think we’d be better … servants if we went willingly?”
“Enough!” Kaine yelled, the rage behind his eyes turning his face into a mask of anger. “Do you think I’m some ignorant human? Do you think I don’t know, even now, that you were probing the code, trying to find a way out? Do you actually think I would allow that?”
The Rule of Thoughts Page 8