Cragbridge Hall, Volume 2: The Avatar Battle

by Morris, Chad

  Okay, so maybe not. As they passed the aquariums, Derick watched all sorts of vibrantly colored fish swimming effortlessly through the water. One day, hopefully soon, he would be in there with them . . . as them.

  Maybe they were going to the bird habitats. That would be even better. He could only imagine what it might feel like to glide across air currents and shift with the wind. But were the birds in this direction?

  “Giraffes,” Dr. Mackleprank said, as they approached a large glass wall with a safari-like scene behind it. The tall, lanky animals reached their long necks up into the trees and pulled off leaves with impossibly long twisty tongues and chewed, their jaws moving in a bizarre circular fashion.

  Giraffes? Derick’s stomach sank. Who would want to be a giraffe? So they had long necks—that might be thrilling for a minute or two, but after he got used to having a head higher than a basketball hoop, what else would possibly be interesting? He could get the same experience climbing a ladder. He didn’t need to waste avatar time for that. Plus, this was an advanced avatar class—weren’t they supposed to be doing something advanced?

  “I can tell this isn’t what some of you had in mind,” Dr. Mackleprank said, still moving slower than normal, “but we’ve found it is rather helpful in the development of your skills.”

  He continued. “Some things you should know about this lanky wonder: Its Latin name is Giraffa camelopardalis; it is the tallest animal that walks on land. You may have heard the word camel in the root of its Latin name. If you will look at our giraffes,” Dr. Mackleprank gestured toward the room filled with the towering beasts, “you will notice the hump to support the neck.” He pointed at a giraffe slowly swinging its head from one branch to another for more food. Derick noticed the hump. He also noticed how lurpy the creature seemed to be . . . or, rather, how lurpy it seemed it should be. The giraffe seemed like it should move awkwardly, almost stumbling over itself, but it didn’t. In a way it was graceful. “It also has ossicones on its head. That’s the technical term for its stubby horns.” They looked like the bottom ends of two black canes poking out of the giraffe’s scalp. “But of course, the giraffe is best known for its neck. Anyone want to guess their height?”

  A few students gave it their best shot.

  “They usually range from sixteen to twenty feet, or from just under five to just over six meters. Not only are they tall, they are heavyweights. The average female weighs a little less than a ton, and the average male about 3,500 pounds. These guys are not light.”

  Dr. Mackleprank motioned again for the students to follow him, and walked them back to the classroom. Passing the other animals seemed like torture. Derick didn’t have to try the fish or bird avatars; couldn’t they just swing from some more branches as squirrel monkeys? Or spend some more time perfecting the big powerful movements of a rhino?

  Dr. Mackleprank just kept teaching. “Other animal herds, such as zebras, like to stay close to giraffes. Any idea why?”

  “Because they’re tall and can see predators coming,” Derick mumbled. The giraffe’s one talent.

  “Correct,” Dr. Mackleprank said, pointing at him. “They can serve as sentinels. But if predators get too close, a giraffe isn’t helpless.” The class, now back in their desks, watched as Dr. Mackleprank flicked his rings and footage of giraffes in the wild played on the classroom’s wall screen.

  Derick watched a giraffe turning, almost spinning in its half-awkward, half-graceful way. It looked confused. Maybe they were lanky and dumb. Then Derick saw the lions.

  Derick moved up in his seat.

  The lions crouched low to the ground, creeping up on their prey. One sprang out from hiding, its paws raised, claws out, ready to grab onto the giraffe’s hind leg.

  It didn’t make it. The giraffe kicked back and caught the lion midair, knocking it back like a rag doll.

  “Ooohh,” the class called out.

  “Rejected!” Derick added.

  The giraffe lurched forward, flinging its front legs stiff and straight. The lions backed up quickly to avoid the attack. “A giraffe,” Dr. Mackleprank explained, “will do its best to defend itself and its kick can injure—or kill.” The image faded.

  “Giraffes can also battle among themselves for dominance.” New footage started. Two giraffes stood hip to hip. It looked like the two were just good buds who liked to stand close to each other—really close. Bizarre.

  And then it happened.

  One of them swung its neck and crashed its head into the other’s body. It was like the neck was a giant chain and its head a wrecking ball. The other quickly responded by slamming its head into its opponent. Crunching sounds rang out through the class. They were definitely not acting like friends.

  “Ooohh!” the kids in the class cried out again.

  Derick’s heart beat faster. He had no idea giraffes could do that.

  “The giraffe’s neck is built to be able to take the pressure,” Dr. Mackleprank commented.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Derick saw many girls who couldn’t watch, but he couldn’t look away. The two beasts stepped forward, then backed up again, each trying to keep the other on their hip. As soon as one attacked with its head, the other responded. Crunch. Crack. One blow knocked the other up off its feet for a moment before it came back down.

  “That’s enough power to move a nearly two-ton opponent. There is a lot of force behind a giraffe’s attack.” Giraffes were so much cooler than they had been a few minutes ago.

  After a few more blows, one of the giraffes surrendered, disappearing into the trees.

  “That’s it for instruction today,” Dr. Mackleprank said. “So feel free to move into your lab spaces, hook up, and begin to practice. Begin with simple movements. Then try to pick something up from the ground. You’ll have to stick at least one leg out to the side. It will be tough to keep your balance. If you would like to try to kick or hit with your head as you’ve seen here today, you can, but be sure to hit one of the hanging pads in each of your labs. However, I should warn you that being a giraffe will take practice. We simply aren’t used to having our head so far away from our legs. Also, whipping that head around can be quite dizzying.”

  Before stepping into his lab and hooking up his sensors, Derick let the other members of the class filter out into their assigned spots. He approached Dr. Mackleprank. “Thanks for letting me into this class.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Mackleprank looked at him. “You deserve it.”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure that’s true, but I appreciate it.” Derick lowered his voice. “And after having seen you fight, I’m not so sure I want to race you anymore.”

  Dr. Mackleprank’s eyes opened wider for a second. He probably didn’t expect Derick to bring it up here. Dr. Mackleprank looked around and then let out a tired laugh. “Well, you’d have to expect that the teacher of a certain subject would have the ability; otherwise why would they teach?”

  “And thanks for the locket,” Derick whispered. “I finished the challenge and got a final key.”

  Dr. Mackleprank smiled and whispered back. “Well then, another set of congratulations are in order. Not many people can do that.”

  That last phrase rang in Derick’s ears. It was a true statement. Not many people could do what he had done. He had and would do great things. No more failing. No more losing—and no more worrying about it.

  Derick stepped into his own booth, his own lab space. He hooked up his sensors and his suspension system. He pulled down the large visor and selected his giraffe avatar. Almost immediately, he became disoriented. It was like he was looking down from the roof of a house. He had never been this tall. He looked to his left and saw a tree. Not the trunk, but three-fourths of the way up the tree was at eye level. It was like they were equals. He glanced down. His feet . . . his hooves . . . were so far away. This was better than he thought.

  He took a step. Whoa. He stumbled a little, which led to a little more. He could only stop himself when he leaned up against the wa
ll. He must have stepped on something. Most of the avatars came pretty naturally to him.

  He took a deep breath and took another step. He nearly toppled forward. He felt completely off-balance. What was going on here?

  What if he wasn’t going to be any good at this? No. He would get it.

  “Here we go,” he whispered to himself. After a little practice, he could walk. He didn’t feel sturdy, more like a little baby—every step was unsure. He slowly felt more secure.

  Finally, with only five minutes left in class, Derick felt confident enough to try to swing his head at one of the pads. He reeled back and let his head sweep through the air. He felt it hit the pad with a snap, the pressure pushing against his cheek. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t take. He made a mental note to try to hit more with the stubby horns and less with his face.

  Awesome. That was a lot of power. But he couldn’t stop his momentum. One moment Derick was relishing the force of the hit, the next he was flat on his side, his straight legs wriggling around.

  He tried to maneuver himself up, but his legs stuck straight out, giving him no leverage. He shifted to one side, hoping to roll back up somehow. He only succeeded in toppling more. He pushed his head against the ground, hoping to prop up the rest of his body. Just when he thought it was about to work, he fell back to the ground.

  He hoped Dr. Mackleprank wasn’t watching. He hoped no one was. Maybe he shouldn’t be in the advanced class. Maybe he wasn’t gifted with the avatars at all. He sighed and pushed the button on the back of his neck.

  He had just hung up his equipment and was walking out of the thick doors that kept the avatar lab locked up and safe when his rings vibrated. A message from Muns.

  13

  The Council of the Keys

  Once his visor was on, it was as though Derick sat in a completely different room—not the virtual booth he was actually in, but a conference room with a large mahogany table and black leather seats surrounding it. Derick sat in one chair and, as he surveyed the rest of the room, saw faces he recognized—Abby, Coach Horne, Coach Adonavich, and Grandpa. Each sat around the same virtual table. But there were two unfamiliar faces—a black couple. The man had broad shoulders and a beard. The woman was thin with short cropped hair.

  Grandpa stood at the head of the table, wearing his usual blazer with the Cragbridge crest. His brow was furrowed, his beard and what white hair he had left looked more haggard than usual. “Thank you all for coming. I usually prefer to meet in person, but this may prove to be more suitable under the circumstances.” Derick didn’t know what that meant. “I don’t think we can be too careful when Muns may be involved.”

  “This meeting has been called as a precaution, but it is quite historic.” Grandpa gazed at each person in the room. “Throughout your lives, every one of you has gained my trust.” Derick looked from face to face imagining what the situations might have been that led to Grandpa’s trust. “All of you know my secret, and carry a key to the Bridge, and have the power to manipulate time if accompanied by two others with keys.” He introduced everyone. The black man and woman were a married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Trinhouse. He thought he had heard Abby mention that Mrs. Trinhouse was one of her teachers.

  Wait. Mom and Dad. They had keys. Why weren’t they here?

  Mr. Trinhouse raised his hand and interrupted. “I thought there would be more of us, and I definitely didn’t expect your grandchildren.”

  “I admit,” Grandpa said. “There are more who know my secret and have keys, but I have decided to let you know only some of the others. It at least partially protects the identities of those with keys, and therefore protects them from our enemies.” Derick thought he saw the wisdom in that. Grandpa explained how Muns had tried to gain the keys last semester, but had only succeeded in gaining one.

  “I’m fine with not knowing everyone with keys,” Mrs. Trinhouse said. “But have we given much thought to removing the need for protection? I know it may sound drastic, but perhaps we should destroy all the keys. Wouldn’t that stop Muns and eliminate this danger?”

  Derick liked Mrs. Trinhouse’s style. She was quite animated as she spoke, but not overbearing, pretending to know it all. She was simply presenting a possibility.

  “That is an interesting hypothesis,” Grandpa said. “And if we could do it thoroughly, it would be a good solution. The danger lies in the fact that if just one person asked to return their key presents a counterfeit, or if one or two others refuse or depart without returning their keys, then we potentially leave Muns with all of the power. I’m not willing to risk that. I purposefully left keys to those I trust and there, I believe, lies our best safety.”

  “But Muns has a key,” Coach Horne said. “Isn’t there a chance that he can copy the key he has?”

  “No,” Grandpa said. “I won’t bore you with the details, but each is unique, like a snowflake. The keys rearrange their internal codes continually. There is no way the code can be cracked or copied. If someone tries to open a key to see how it is configured inside, the key will self-destruct. There’s not an explosion, but the key will no longer work.”

  Derick appreciated that the key he always carried in a secret compartment in the bottom of his pocket was not explosive.

  Grandpa paused for a moment. When no other questions immediately surfaced, he continued. “For lack of a better name, I think I will call you the Council of the Keys. I must stress that you must keep each other’s identities a secret. If Muns has any other traitors working at Cragbridge Hall somehow, he would desperately want that information. He needs the keys we hold. This was why we did not meet in person. If a mole suspected any of you, it would have been easier for them to tail you and discover the others.”

  Grandpa had thought of everything.

  “Muns already knows some of us that oppose him from the incident at the beginning of the year. In a bold move, he has contacted Abby and Derick as well as Carol Reese and Rafa Da Silva, four students instrumental in saving me and keeping my secret safe several months ago.” Grandpa played part of Muns’s message warning that something was going to happen and urging the kids to not get involved.

  “Then, as some of you know, we recently had quite an incident.” Derick listened as his grandfather described sending Dr. Mackleprank back into time to remove those who had intruded to try to change it. Every member of the Council had been there except for the Trinhouses. He must be bringing them up to date.

  “But why would Muns tip us off by contacting the four students?” Coach Adonavich asked.

  “We don’t know,” Grandpa admitted.

  “I motion that we should actually do as Muns said,” Mrs. Trinhouse proposed, “and not have students involved. Based on what little I know, it is too dangerous.”

  The two coaches both agreed.

  No way. After all they had done? Besides, Derick wasn’t too young to help. He hated it when adults thought he was too young. They underestimated him just because of his age. Unfair. He should at least get a shot.

  “Though I agree that we should take care to protect them, they have proven themselves. Without them, my secret would be lost and Muns would already have the Bridge and the keys.” Grandpa leaned forward across the table. “This school is founded on the idea of giving young people the very best—the Bridge, the Chair, avatars, you as teachers; the list could go on. We do it because we trust them to rise to the occasion. There are no four students I trust to rise more than Abby, Derick, Rafa, and Carol.”

  Mr. Trinhouse spoke, “I still agree with my wife that it may be in their best interest to—”

  “No!” Grandpa banged his cane on the ground. Even in the virtual world it was loud enough to quiet everyone. “I am certain I want them and their talents as part of this council.”

  Derick’s mouth curled up at the edge. You tell ’em, Grandpa. He saw Abby blink away a tear.

  “We need all of us, including the students among us, to be ready at any hour,” Grandpa said. “And we may
just need all of us to defeat Muns.” Though there wasn’t open acceptance of the idea, no one opposed Grandpa.

  “In fact, after this last incident, Muns contacted the four students again.” Derick thought back on the message. Could it all have been a gambit?

  “That message was one of the driving reasons for this meeting.”

  Grandpa showed part of that last message, showing Muns confidently teaching about chess and proposing that his last move had simply been a sacrifice for him to gain the upper hand. Derick knew that he, Abby, Carol, and Rafa had all alerted Grandpa about the messages they’d received.

  “But how could that have given Muns the upper hand?” Coach Horne asked. “Those men didn’t change the past and Dr. Mackleprank kicked their trash. Now they’re locked up downstairs and bored to death.”

  “I’m not sure,” Grandpa said. “But I want us to consider all the angles. It is possible that the briefcase is a piece to this puzzle.” Grandpa gestured toward the Trinhouses.

  Mrs. Trinhouse popped out of her seat. She used her rings to access something. “Oscar asked me and my husband to inspect the case.” After moving her forefinger, an image of the brown leather briefcase appeared on the screen behind her. “We used Shandler imaging to see inside.” The image on the screen changed to show the case, slightly transparent, criscrossed with overlapping lines—the outlines of what was inside. The colors of the various objects also overlapped. “Oscar was right to be cautious. There was a failsafe linked to the lock. You see there are a group of sensors on the case underneath the handle here. If we had tried to open it without putting in the right code, something in that container would release. It could be gas. It could be an acid that would destroy what was inside.”

  Derick squinted, trying to better make sense of all the lines. He thought he could make out the sensors under the handle and some sort of container attached to it, but he still couldn’t tell what was inside the main body of the case.

  Mr. Trinhouse took over. “Inside the case is a simple handheld device, about the size of your hand. From our imaging, I can’t be certain what it does. Even if we could open the case and inspect it, I’m not sure I’d be able to deduce more. But I am sure that it is heavily password protected and coded.”