Side Quest

by Christopher Kerns

“That’s the spirit!” Dak exclaimed.

  The team went to work, following Dak’s lead, and filled the tunnel with as many explosive blocks as would fit. They worked their way backwards as they filled, block after block, as tall and wide as the cave would allow, ending up back at the tunnel’s mouth, staring back at a wall of destruction. Dozer held a final explosive high in the air, flashing the wicked smile of a four-year old that just found her way into the cookie jar. She lit the block, and as it began to glow with red and orange fire patterns, tossed it into the tunnel.

  “Nefarious, retreat to a safe position!” Dak yelled, running past the group at a full sprint.

  Feeling the heat from the growing inferno, Mitch sprinted, moving his stubby legs as fast as they would take him. He huddled beside the rest of the group on the far side of the nearest barn. They craned their block heads around the corner, waiting on the grand finale.

  In his decades of Skirmish play, Mitch had seen his fair share of impressive explosions. On select missions, Mitch and Fuse were known to veer off script, blowing up outposts or entire office blocks to keep things interesting. Watching a building crumble under its own weight after a series of targeted, timed charges was as close to a spiritual experience as Mitch had ever witnessed—the release of seeing something so massive, so rigid, so engineered, falling lifeless into nothing. But Mitch had never seen anything like this.

  The ground shook, the air turned hot, and the mountain exploded, turning the wall of rock facing the team into millions of pieces of gray and black and red in the blink of a digital eye. It expanded up for what seemed like forever, a reverse hailstorm of virtual granite filling the air with slow arcs, a rainbow of destruction bowing out as far as he could see. It was glorious.

  After his ears stopped ringing, Mitch emerged from behind the barn. He saw hints of daylight emerging from the rubble. The mountain was simply gone, replaced by a path of ruin leading to a purple sky, past clouds of dust and piles of debris.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Dozer whispered, rising to her feet, admiring her work. She offered a fist bump to Fuse, who was still too busy peeling himself off the turf to tap her back.

  “What’s that?” Dak asked, pointing past where the cliff once stood.

  On the far side of the fresh crater, a different world began to emerge as the smoke cleared out, one pixel at a time. The green hills gave way to flat, gray blocks, framed with black walls on all sides to form a structure reminding Mitch of an ancient Roman arena. At the center stood a giant pool of lava. The thick, dark red liquid bubbled and smoked, scorching the shore. On the far side of the lake stood a huge, wooden gate, but Mitch couldn’t see a way across. Giant pipe mouths extended from the walls of the arena, dry as a bone, but one pipe on the near side of the lava lake’s shore poured a healthy stream of water into the red lake. The resulting cloud of steam formed a light fog that clung to the ground.

  An electric message board hung over the gate, flashing with old-school green neon letters.

  WATER IS POWER

  “Fascinating,” Fuse whispered.

  The group made their way through the rubble, padding down the steps into the arena and approaching the lake’s shore. Mitch stepped forward, feeling a wave of heat hit his face. He looked up to the empty pipes, over to the flowing stream of water, and finally back over to the gate.

  His mind went to work. Trying to make sense of everything. Trying to find a solution before Dak found one first. And suddenly, magically, everything made sense.

  I don’t believe it.

  “I know how we can level up,” Mitch shouted to the team, fighting back a laugh. “This isn’t just a sandbox game. It’s a puzzle.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Water is Power

  MITCH HAD LEARNED over the years that the concept of “leadership” was about as concrete as a jellyfish after a few drinks, but he’d found it was generally served in two distinct flavors. First: maniacs that step to the front of the crowd, convinced they’re more capable, more elite, more deserving than everyone else. Nobody likes those people. And second: individuals who find themselves pushed forward by a group that does so, in part, to artfully dodge any responsibility themselves. Mitch had always found himself squarely planted in the second camp. He’d never craved the spotlight, and at the same time, wouldn’t kick it out of bed for eating crackers.

  But as he sat on the hot, rocky shore of the lava lake—watching Dak pull the group together with nothing but sunshine and good thoughts shining behind his perfect, jewel-like eyes—Mitch realized that seeing someone else lead his old team was no fun. Zero fun. Like a phantom limb attached to someone else’s body, where he could still feel twinges and sparks, but knew it didn’t belong to him anymore.

  After they’d found the puzzle, Dak had jumped in to take charge, and there was no debating that the guy was in his element. With high stakes on the line and a crowd rallied around him, he made sure all voices were heard, offering guidance to advance the dialog, and kept an open mind to “out of the box” thinking. Mitch found the whole scene unbearable.

  “All right, team,” Dak said, clapping his hands with youthful enthusiasm. “Let’s think about what we’ve got to work with and break this puzzle down. I want to hear everyone’s suggestions. There are no bad ideas in a brainstorm, right?”

  Mitch cleared his throat and secured his spot on the sideline. I can think of a few bad ideas.

  “And Mitch,” Dak continued, flashing his now all-to-familiar smile, “I want to make sure you’re comfortable in your role here. I know you’re here to do a job—getting us home safe—and boy, do we really appreciate it. But if you’d like to lend a hand, please, be my guest. Mi casa es su casa, am I right, amigo?”

  Why is he speaking Spanish? That doesn’t even make sense.

  “Thanks, Dak,” Mitch said, waving from the distance. “You’ve obviously got this under control.”

  “Well, that’s my job,” Dak said, beaming as much as his BlockJoyMagic avatar would allow. “All right team, what’s the challenge in front of us? We’ve got to get across a lava lake. There’s water pouring out of a pipe. We’ve got to figure out a way to open the gate. And, of course, we’ll need to decode the clue.”

  “I’ll head up checking out the gate,” Fuse said, his band of bunnies still meandering nearby. “Maybe there’s just a button or pulley or something.”

  “Have fun burning your feet off,” Dozer scoffed. “You planning to fly across that giant lava pit?”

  “It’s a building world, genius,” Fuse said. “We can construct anything we want. I’ll just build a bridge.”

  “I knew that,” Dozer replied, turning back to their fearless leader. “Dak—let’s go check out the active water pipe. There has to be something we’re missing here.”

  “You’re with me, spectator,” Fuse said to Mitch, smacking him on the shoulder.

  The lake’s shore was made up of a jagged line of red blocks, complete with lava bubbles and crawling waves of heat seeping up from the surface. Far off across the huge pool, Mitch could see about thirty feet of rocky shore leading up to the gate. The pair went to work, starting with a firm base about ten blocks wide and six deep, alternating their builds on top of each other’s, ending up with a slow arch bowing twenty feet high the air. After making sure the platform was wide enough to fit both of them, they began to build across the lake, aiming straight towards the gate. It was slow work, but each block got them a foot or so closer.

  “So this Dak guy,” Mitch threw out as casually as possible. “What’s his story?”

  “Been with us for a few months. Good academy experience. He’s worked out pretty well.”

  “Yeah?” Mitch asked, leaving the door open for Fuse to spill more details.

  “Better than the others, at least,” Fuse continued. “Since the mighty Spitfire left us, we can’t seem to find a leader that clicks, you know? Seems like we’ve got a new one every year—some didn’t have the right experience, others got fa
mous using our name and then moved on to solo missions, just using us for leverage. And some of them were just dicks.”

  Mitch laughed. “Makes me wonder which bucket I fall into.”

  “You don’t fit any mold, you know that. Never have. But it wouldn’t hurt to try a little harder now that you’re here. Maybe Dozer will cut you some slack if she sees you helping out.”

  “I’m helping now, aren’t I? Dozer’s going to think what Dozer wants to think. I’ve never been able to change that. Besides, I don’t need any new pen pals, just want to get everyone back home and get on with my life.”

  “I know, I know. Get your money and go home. All I’m saying is that while you’re here, try to have some fun. Maybe it’ll be like old times.”

  “Maybe old times weren’t that great?” Mitch asked. “Ever think about that?”

  “Nah, I don’t.” Fuse stopped building for a moment, wiping his brow of virtual sweat. “You’ve got to know that nobody blames you for what happened. No one but you.”

  “I lost,” Mitch said. “Which means we lost. That’s all I know.”

  “Nobody could have beat Red Code—it doesn’t take away anything else you accomplished, and shouldn’t keep you from coming back.”

  “Seems like my slot’s taken. The new troop leader seems like a perfect fit.”

  “We’ll see,” Fuse said. “Haven’t hit real combat with him yet, just easy missions so far. You always find out what people are made of when the real shit hits.”

  As they placed the few final blocks to reach the shore, Mitch and Fuse slid down the ramp and onto dry land. They skimmed past the black rock walls and stood in awe of the enormous gate—it must have been a hundred feet high made of thick wooden blocks with iron straps holding them all in place. It was a single solid wall of you’re-not-getting-in-here with no handle, no button, not even a goddamned doorbell to ring. Mitch leaned back to read the message blinking high above. The neon crackled with each pulse.

  “Water is power,” Mitch whispered. “That has to be the key to all this, right?” Water is power. Water is power. He turned back, looking across the lake. He could see Dak and Dozer still inspecting the active water pipe. From this angle, the pipe reminded Mitch of a cobra standing tall in striking position, sticking out of the rocky floor and spitting its liquid venom into the fire.

  “What do we do now?” Dak asked.

  Water is power.

  Mitch traced his eyes to follow the angle of the active pipe’s mouth, drawing a mental line to the dry pipe mouth directly next to the gate on their side the lake.

  This is a building world.

  You can build whatever you want.

  Mitch began to think out loud as he rearranged the mental pieces in his head, beginning to find the edges and shape of a solution. “I think we might ... we might be able to ... ”

  You can build anything you want.

  That’s it.

  “I figured it out!” Dak shouted from the far shore, waving his perfectly sculpted arms in the air.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  “He figured it out,” Fuse yelled, turning to Mitch. “Thank God, I knew he would.” He ran back to the team, balancing across the bridge to hear the news firsthand. Mitch didn’t budge, standing under the blinking sign, alone on the shore.

  “Water is power!” Dak yelled, jumping with pride. “We figured it out! Water! Is! Power!”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Things You Couldn’t Imagine

  “WATER IS POWER, YOU GUYS,” Dak beamed, shaking Fuse by the shoulders. “It’s so simple, why didn’t I see it before?”

  Because you’re a tool? Mitch slugged his way across the bridge, half hoping he’d said the words out loud. The rest of the group gathered in a tight circle around Dak, hanging on his every word.

  “The water from the pipe ... we just need to build a channel—an aqueduct—over to that open pipe mouth by the gate,” Dak explained. “I’ll bet the flowing water triggers some type of machinery to work the gate. But, hey, I never would have thought of it without Fuse’s idea for the bridge. That’s what got me thinking. I mean, good lesson, right? That sign over there says ‘Water is power,’ but I think the real power here is teamwork.”

  Somebody. Kill me.

  “Sounds like a terrific plan, Dak,” Mitch said without a hint of emotion. “But whatever we’re going to do, let’s start doing it.”

  Mocking a salute back, Dak got the team rolling with their roles and responsibilities. With Fuse in charge of the aqueduct’s floor, and both Dak and Dozer each building a wall on either side, they were making good time working block by block across the lava, leaving a gap by the flowing pipe to keep the channel dry during construction. “Sorry, Mitch,” Dak shouted over as he completed another column. “Not really room for a fourth up here.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mitch chimed back. “I’m good down here.”

  “Figures,” Dozer said, loud enough for Mitch to hear.

  After a few hundred more blocks, the team connected the channel to the dry pipe’s mouth near the gate. They backtracked across the center of the structure, keeping their distance from the heat waves and occasional lava bubbles rising from the lake and popping on either side.

  “Ok, Nefarious Five, let’s roll,” Dak announced as his feet hit the ground back on Mitch’s side. He stepped into the small waterfall flowing out of the pipe, getting drenched with blue blocks bouncing off his head, as he built the final section to fill the channel’s gap. The team fell quiet, all eyes watching the channel, as the hush of the water hitting the lava went silent. The steam was replaced with the ripples and gurgles of the new elevated river above their heads. The water poured into the stone channel, rushing in so fast it spilled over the edges for the first stretch, and then settled, slowly pushing blue blocks across the length of the duct, inching towards the other side.

  “It’s working,” Dozer said. “Thank God.”

  “Good chance we’re going to level up,” Fuse said. “Nice work, Dak!”

  The water continued its journey across the channel, but from his vantage point up on the steps, Mitch could see trouble ahead. The water’s level began falling lower and lower as the liquid approached the far wall. Inching along, it finally stopped its progress altogether, leaving ten feet of dry stone leading up to the pipe mouth next to the gate.

  “How ... ” Dozer jumped up on the channel to get a better look. “How is one side full and the other side empty? That doesn’t make any sense ... where’s all the stupid water going? Is there a leak?”

  “Let me check something,” Fuse said, climbing up next to her and reaching into the channel, holding his stubby arm in the water for a few seconds. “This water is hot—exceptionally hot. I’d say at least one hundred fifty degrees Fahrenheit.” He looked out across the lake and nodded to himself. “We built the duct too low … too close to the lava. It’s all evaporating before it can reach the other side.”

  “I hate this ridiculous, idiotic, piece of shit world,” Dozer fumed, jumping off the channel and back onto the shore. Fuse’s rabbits scurried out of her path as she grazed by Mitch, stomping back up the hill. “You got something to say?”

  “Didn’t say a word,” Mitch said, biting his lip.

  “You’re thinking about it,” Dozer said. “I know you are. You’ve always thought you were better than me. I could always see it in the slits of your beady little eyes, even back in Skirmish. Even before you turned on us.”

  “Let’s calm it down, everyone,” Dak said, leaning against the pipe and staring out at the lava with his unbridled optimism fully intact. “There has to be a way. It’s a puzzle—every puzzle has a solution. What if we build it higher?”

  “Higher?” Fuse said. “So the heat’s not as close?”

  “That’s not the way that water works,” Mitch offered up. “You make it any higher and the water won’t flow into it. Water flows down, not up. I’ve got another idea, though.”

  “No
body asked you,” Dozer said, jogging back down to the shore, pulling the Nefarious team into a tighter circle. “What else can we do?”

  “How about different materials?” Dak asked. “We’ve got like ten different types of rock and wood in our inventory.”

  “In theory,” Fuse nodded, “one of them might insulate the water from heat better than the granite we used for the current channel.”

  “I like this plan,” Dak said, clapping his hands. “And I love this team! OK, Nefarious, we’ve planned the work, now let’s go work the plan!” The team sprang into action, working the plan—whatever that meant—tearing down each granite block from the duct and replacing it with a darker stone. Mitch watched from the shore, checking the time, and throwing an occasional carrot over to the nearby rabbits.

  After completing the retrofit and getting back to the shore, Fuse filled in the last remaining blocks and the water began to flow, once again, across the channel. The team watched, holding their breath, as the blue blocks edged closer and closer to the far pipe. The water evaporated in the exact same spot as last time. The material, it appeared, didn’t matter at all.

  “Really, guys,” Mitch reminded them. “Maybe if you—”

  “Not interested,” Dozer shot back. “Just keep sitting on the sidelines, Spit. That’s what you’re good at.”

  The team tried four more types of rock, each time rebuilding the channel and plugging in the last piece, fingers crossed. Each time, the water dried up in the exact same spot as the time before, met with curses and silence from the different members of the team.

  “We’re missing something,” Fuse said, plopping down on the shore. “There’s no material that’s going to work here. I think we need to rethink our whole strategy. There’s a good chance we’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Maybe we build the channel on the sides?” Dak asked. “If we build the bridge over to the side by the canyon wall, there could be less heat over there?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work,” Mitch chimed in again. “I’m telling you—”