In Beta

by Prescott Harvey

  “I guess there’s no going back now, huh? There’s no Blockbuster in The Build.”

  “There is no Bend, Oregon,” Jay retorted.

  Colin glanced at his friend, and a look of understanding played over his face. “You’re not gonna end up like Hal.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I won’t let it happen.”

  Liz gripped the back of Stevie’s chair. “Anything?”

  Stevie stared intently at the lines of code. “I haven’t found your body. But there’s an opportunity for us to go bigger than I think Hal planned. There are inputs to The Build UI that Hal never bothered to connect. Everything is contained within his computer. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Should I hook them up, see where they lead?”

  “Not yet. Jay?” Liz ventured.

  “What?”

  “How do we lure Hal back in? We can’t make changes till he’s here.”

  “I don’t know. I know you guys are excited to play with The Build. But right now, I have to reconcile the fact that I grow up to be the world’s biggest nerd, and also, oh yeah, I’m a homicidal killer that’s going to murder you in your sleep. Kinda hard to get my mind off of that.”

  Liz crouched down next to him. He felt the flatness of her palm on his back.

  “Listen. When I first got here, and I figured out who you were, I thought the exact same thing. I didn’t want to have anything to do with you. But you’re not him, Jay. I don’t know what happened. Maybe you’re a different part of Hal, before he grew so bitter. But you’ve already proven you’re better than him. Look. You have two friends who are going to be here for life.”

  “You said high school friendships don’t last.”

  “That’s a choice I made. I don’t get to choose who I want to be anymore. All those decisions have been made. Same for Hal. But that’s not true for you.”

  Jay closed his eyes and brought his face against the cool Bakelite of his desk. He forced himself to go back into Hal’s memories. Brief images of a life beyond his own flashed into his mind. Riding a bus in the rain. Quietly dining alone. Always, he felt the steady pulse of anger, just below the surface.

  “I dunno,” Jay mumbled. “He wants control; he wants respect.”

  “Where did it come from? Where does that start?”

  There was another flash. Jay was standing in a black room, squinting at bright green and blue lights. A semicircle of students in tuxedos surrounded him. Some of their faces looked vaguely familiar. They were pointing at him, laughing. He felt a tremendous wave of anger, stronger than anything he’d felt in his life.

  “Prom,” he said suddenly, looking to Liz. “Something happened at prom.”

  Liz’s face was unreadable. She spoke slowly. “Okay. Yes. Jeremy played a prank on Hal at senior prom. That was the turning point?”

  Jay exhaled. “I dunno. It’s a big memory. Maybe that’s what Hal meant when he said he’s looking forward to the show. Maybe he wants me to stop Jeremy at prom?”

  Liz snapped her fingers. “So we don’t have to lure Hal in. If he’s looking forward to the show, I bet he comes in to watch. Stevie, can you get me out?”

  Stevie grinned. “Not yet. But we’ll figure it out.”

  Liz grimaced. “We have to.”

  “If we can get that control away from Hal . . .”

  Colin raised his hand. “I can get it away.”

  “He’ll kill you,” Jay warned.

  “Not without his remote he won’t.”

  Beyond the pines, they heard the distant sound of voices and cars pulling into the parking lot. Liz looked back and forth between them.

  “So that’s it? That’s our plan?”

  Jay nodded. “We’re going to trap him in prom.”

  Clouds Roll In

  By the afternoon, the sky outside had darkened dramatically. There was no trace of the cold sunshine that had earlier illuminated the Morning Market; instead, a blanket of menacing clouds now rolled over Bickleton. Wind whipped up from the Skookullom Gorge, howling through the rafters of Colin’s house.

  He, Liz, and Stevie were getting ready for the prom at Colin’s house. Seven parents—his mom, Stevie’s, Colin’s, and Liz’s—fussed over them, running from kid to kid, snapping photos. It all seemed so stupid. Jay sighed, adjusting his tie in a hallway mirror. The kids were mustering fake excitement, acting like everything was normal. Last week, Jay’s only care was going to prom. That had been the pinnacle of high school. Now it felt like farce: a play they were all rehearsing. He undid his necktie and began again.

  Down the hall, Liz was doing her hair in Mrs. Ramirez’s bathroom. She’d left the door open a crack, and Jay could see her, bobby pin clenched in her mouth, hair up. She looked beautiful, her tan skin perfect and unblemished. It was impossible to believe she was actually his mom’s age.

  Jay watched as Liz applied clear lip gloss and a brush of rouge to her cheeks. She moved with a confidence unusual for girls her age. Jay realized she was probably an expert in many things he had yet to fully understand. Liz’s mom came up behind Liz and added a pink carnation to her hair. Liz’s body froze. She watched in the mirror as her mom carefully pinned the carnation in place.

  “Sweetie, you look beautiful. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

  Liz’s eyes were watering. She spun around and threw her arms around her mom’s neck. Her mom blinked in surprise, then placed her hands on her daughter’s back.

  Jay wondered how close Hal had gotten Liz’s parents to their real-life counterparts. Were they still alive in the real world? For a moment, he saw The Build through Liz’s eyes. This was an opportunity for her to step backward in time.

  Jay moved down the hall and stopped at the bathroom door.

  Liz released her mom, who shuffled out into the hall.

  “Sweetie, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get your corsage.”

  Liz’s eyes were rimmed red. She looked fierce and stunning and vulnerable all at once. He gave her a small smile.

  “Liz Knight.”

  She sniffed, then offered her own faint smile. “Jay Banksman. Aren’t we the pair?”

  “You okay?”

  She waved her hand and fanned her watering eyes. “Sorry. Lot of feelings right now.”

  He stepped into the bathroom and stood facing the mirror, turning his attention to his necktie. He searched through memories until he found an image of his dad holding up a tie. Jay followed the memory, retracing his dad’s gestures with his own hands. Around, behind, over, and through. He yanked down, straightening.

  “Don’t worry,” he murmured, not wanting to give anything away in the very likely event that Hal was watching. “Whatever happens, he can’t control us.”

  Liz nodded and returned to fixing her eyes. Her mom popped back into the bathroom, carrying a blue corsage.

  “My goodness, you two look like Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise!”

  Liz gave a faint smile. “Neat.”

  Gateway

  Overlooking the Skookullom Gorge on a high bluff was a row of Bickleton’s finest houses. They stood proudly against the oncoming storm, windows reflecting flashes of light as the clouds rolled in. One house in particular towered over the rest. It stood front and center on the bluff, its single glass window so large that it encompassed most of its entire front wall.

  This was Jeremy McKraken’s house. It stood an impressive three stories, taller than the surrounding mansions, perfectly centered at the highest vantage, glowering down on the mill and the lower portion of Bickleton.

  In the center of its fishbowl window, some twenty feet in the living room, John McKraken sat on a couch. He was a thick, sturdy man, like his son. He held a rigid pose that commanded the room, even as he sat relaxing and reading the paper. Some distance behind him, Lydia McKraken hovered over a mixing bowl, stirring. W
hen she smiled, some of her old prom-queen beauty broke through her face. But now she held it in a scowl as she attacked her recipe.

  Across a mauve-colored room and from up the stairs, she heard the faint sound of the boys’ voices. For some reason, all fifteen of them were crowded in the office. They’d been in there at least half an hour. She cocked an annoyed eye toward the stairs.

  “Boys! You coming down? Boys?!”

  The boy heard Mrs. McKraken’s voice through the office door and looked to Jeremy to answer, but his face remained impassive.

  John McKraken’s office had a vacuous, unused feel. He rarely brought his work home, and so he made little use of the room. Like many of the rooms in their mansion, it was there in case the McKrakens needed it. It was sparsely furnished with a single shelf, a desk, and a drafting table full of forestry maps. Plastic still wrapped one of two office chairs. It was one of the smaller rooms in the household, and all fourteen Johns were now crammed inside, wearing black tuxedos. They looked even more uniform than usual, and could have easily been fourteen brothers.

  Johns H, C, and D all struggled with a large box with the black-and-white print of a Holstein cow and a Gateway 2000 logo. They opened its flaps, pulled out Mr. C’s computer, throwing out chunks of Styrofoam, and plugged in cords while Jeremy read the instructions aloud.

  “It says to plug the monitor into the serial port.”

  John H rolled his eyes. “God, this is so nerdy.”

  “Dudes.” John B tapped a foot impatiently. “Are we going to prom or what?”

  “You wanna get your ass kicked again?”

  John D plugged in a power cord and stepped back.

  “I think that’s it.”

  They admired their handiwork. The computer sat on John McKraken’s drafting table, surrounded by a keyboard, a joystick, and a mouse. John B plopped down in the plastic-wrapped chair.

  “That’s it?”

  John W checked his watch.

  “I’m supposed to pick up Shelby.”

  Jeremy held up a black floppy disk.

  “Here, scoot over.”

  The multicolored Windows 3.1 sat in front of the screen. The Johns rustled around, rearranging themselves to let Jeremy slip into the chair and slide in the disk. The Build load screen popped up.

  “Huh. So this is the thing that made him stronger?”

  “That’s what he said to Colin.”

  Jeremy gave a few declarative punches of the keyboard.

  “Ten. Ten. Ten.”

  He hit Enter. Immediately, his body stiffened in his chair. He roared so loud, the Johns clapped their hands over their ears. Jeremy’s body went rigid, the skin on his forehead tightening, his ears pulling back. He breathed hard and his face flushed. He leapt up and spun around, clenching and unclenching his fists. The Johns backed away, frightened. Jeremy’s eyes were bloodshot, his capillaries all burst. Protuberant veins ran down his knotted muscles, and a thick moss of hair covered his skin.

  “Who wants to go next?” he growled.

  The Johns shifted and cowered in the corner, avoiding Jeremy’s gaze. Jeremy’s fist shot out and grabbed John S by the lapels.

  “Mmph, ouch. Stop it!”

  Jeremy grabbed John S by the throat until his face turned purple and his sharp, staggered breaths punctured the room. Jeremy flung John S into a wall, and he clanged off the drafting table. He leered at the other Johns, and then his mom’s voice bellowed up from the base of the stairs.

  “The hell’s that noise!?”

  Jeremy froze.

  “You boys going to prom tonight, or you just gonna stay here and play Pogs?”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Jeremy grunted in a new, gravelly voice. “Almost ready.”

  He spun back around to the keyboard.

  “Let’s do this.”

  He hit a few keys. From where he lay on the floor, John S’s body stiffened. He groaned as his muscles clenched and he began to shake.

  Downstairs, Lydia McKraken placed the bowl of custard she’d been working on into the fridge and wiped down the counter. There was another loud bang against the upstairs wall and she stiffened.

  “The hell are those boys doing? John, do you want to go up there?”

  John McKraken folded the newspaper he was reading and took a bite of custard from the small bowl his wife had provided.

  “They’d better not be in my office.”

  “Well, they are. What could possibly be so important?” She turned to the dishes awaiting her in the sink. “They’re going to miss senior prom.”

  Spring Fling

  Wind whipped from the Skookullom, cracking cedar boughs louder than gunshots. Then came the rain. Big drops hurled from the sky. Rivulets ran through the dirt, collecting into streams and snaking out of the pines and onto asphalt in black sheets that varnished the land.

  The rain acted as a summons to all teenagers in Bickleton. Any notion of arriving to prom fashionably late was washed away in the downpour. In ten minutes, the C-Court lot was bursting with cars. They fought for spots, angrily revving their engines and spraying walls of water as they dashed to park. Latecomers ditched their vehicles on the shoulders of Simmons Road, jogging through the torrents to reach the shelter of the gym. By as early as 7:30 p.m., the last smattering of couples were running for the doors, tuxedo jackets used as umbrellas.

  Were there any students left standing outside, they would have heard a loud bang as the Batmobile bungled down Simmons Road before heaving a last gasp to die in the middle of the parking lot. Exasperated, Jay leapt out into the rain. There were no parking spots left, so he pushed the car as far out of the way as he could. A small part of him would have liked to have arrived in the Miata, but ever since his accident with Liz, the top no longer worked. He waited in the rain for the two girls. Liz stepped out the passenger side, the sequins on her green dress gleaming in the orange overheads of the parking lot. Jay forced himself to look away. Don’t get too attached; we’re sending her home.

  Stevie emerged, lost beneath layers of rainproofing, and shuffled toward where the gym lights sparkled behind a wall of water.

  It was odd, returning to school. It felt foreign: something that he recognized but was no longer a part of him. He wondered how the teachers and chaperones would react upon seeing him. Then again, did that even matter now?

  The rain drowned out all other noise as they rushed to the gym, and by the time they reached its doors, their clothes were soaked. Jay’s shoulder pads sagged like sponges, his feet sloshing with every step. Through the dark glass, past his bedraggled reflection, he saw the ticket booth unmanned, no sign of chaperones.

  It was understood that, at the first sign of Hal, Stevie would break off and head to Tutorial so she could work on freeing Liz. Jay nodded at his three friends, then flung open the doors. Immediately, a deep, pounding bass enveloped them. The air was hot and humid with evaporating rainwater and dancing bodies. They saw kids bustling in and out of C-Court from the gym, laughing. A sophomore couple looked over at the four of them in the doorway, and Jay saw the young boy’s gaze drift from Liz to himself, puzzled. They gawked for a moment, then the boy guided his date back into the gym and into the pounding music.

  Jay shouted over the noise, “The rest of the school’s about to know we’ve arrived.”

  Colin looked incredulous. “You think they’ll care?”

  Jay pointed at Liz. “We have the prom queen in tow. Yeah. They’ll care.”

  Liz locked an arm in his, pulling him along. “Come on.”

  Jay looked down at where their arms touched, blushing.

  They shuffled into C-Court. Pink and blue balloons framed the Spring Fling banner hanging in the gym doors. Beyond that was darkness. As his eyes adjusted, Jay saw trees made of brown and green balloons with pink balloon candy blossoms. The trees were illuminated with small twinkling lights
. The strumming guitars of Rage Against the Machine played through the doorway, and shrieks of delight punctured the dance floor. Jay saw the dark silhouettes inside. Writhing bodies that looked like something out of Dante’s Inferno.

  “So this is prom.” Colin examined the dance floor.

  Stevie’s nose, partially visible through her foul-weather gear, pointed at the gym. “There’s so much slam dancing . . .”

  “Accurate?” Jay asked Liz.

  “To the last mullet.”

  Colin swung his shaggy head around. “I don’t see Hal. Or Jeremy.”

  Jay followed his gaze around C-Court. In the darkened corners, some students had already partnered off, making out. Rage Against the Machine subsided, and a tidal wave of kids flooded from the gym. Their faces lit up as they saw Liz, and they pointed at Jay, muttering and giggling. Jay saw Gretchen and Amber. They looked at Liz as if she were holding a dead raccoon.

  “We gotta get outta sight,” Jay muttered.

  Stevie nodded and unzipped her rain jacket. She stepped out of her dark cocoon in a baby blue sequined dress that—Jay couldn’t help but admit—was flattering. She folded her foul-weather gear and left it on a bench. Colin blushed and turned away.

  “Won’t you be cold?” he ventured, not looking at her. “If you have to . . .”

  Liz watched Colin in awe. She turned to Jay, and he nodded, confirming Liz’s suspicion. Colin’s huge crush on Stevie was something he’d long tried to ignore.

  “I’ll be fine.” Stevie beamed at him.

  Jay unclipped a small walkie-talkie from his belt and handed it to Stevie, along with a floppy disk in a plastic case.

  “Can you keep this on your person?”

  Stevie nodded and clipped it onto her chest. Colin looked away uncomfortably, and Liz nodded at Stevie approvingly.

  “Stevie, you clean up well. I guess we’d better go incognito on the dance floor?”

  The four of them took a deep breath and dove farther into the gym.

  The Johns

  Jay, Colin, Stevie, and Liz plunged into the heart of prom.