“Shut it,” Dozer snapped back, finding a seat next to Fuse far away from Mitch. “I’m tired, man. Not just here, but I can just feel it, in my rig back home, you know? I’m dirty. I’m smelly. I’m gross. We’ve been hooked up for so long that I know I just stink, you know? I want to get out of here. Go home, take a shower. Go out on the town, get back into reality for a bit.”
“Out on the town?” Fuse asked. “Since when do you go out on the town?”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know about, asshole. I might go out all the time.”
“I just didn’t see you as someone that would get dressed up and do that whole thing.”
“I can wear the hell out of a dress, I’ll have you know.”
“Didn’t think you even owned a dress,” Fuse laughed.
“Yeah? Well I’ll wear it to your funeral, what do you think about that?”
“Shallow,” Mitch said.
“What did you say?” Dozer asked, pointing her stub at Mitch, staring him down. “Shallow? Don’t lecture me on shallow. I might be a little petty, but at least I’m real. I’m not some loser tour guide pretending to be back in the big leagues. You don’t deserve to be here—you never cared about this team.”
“You want to talk about caring?” Mitch shot back. “Back in the day, you never gave a shit about the team, and nothing’s changed. You’ve never cared about anything but you.”
“Says the guy that left us for dead?” Dozer asked.
“Says the guy that came back to save your ass,” Mitch said, not giving up an inch. “I know I screwed up. I don’t want trophies for coming back here. I’m not asking for anything from you, but tell me this: how come the whole time we’ve been stuck here, you’ve never once been concerned about the rest of the team? All you talk about is getting home—about you, you, you. Never about making sure Punch and Chu are all right. We have no idea where they are, or what they’re up against. And you’re talking about getting a shower, putting on a dress. Have you even thought about them since you got here?” Mitch left a moat of silence for Dozer to respond, knowing she wouldn’t. “So, yeah, sorry, my bad, I’m the asshole here.” He checked the time again, pushing the virtual screen back away with a swing of his arm. “It’s shallow—”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Fuse asked, looking up from his seat on the step.
“It’s shallow,” Mitch repeated, pointing up at the aqueduct. “The water’s flowing fast enough to fill a deeper channel. With a deeper channel, there will be more water in the pipe. The liquid will still evaporate, but there will be enough water left on the other side to reach the pipe on the far side.” He stared Dozer back in the eyes. “It’s shallow.”
The valley fell quiet as each team member stared at the aqueduct. He studied their faces—a mix of anger and confusion and just plain tired. But more than anything else, there was a sense that his time with Nefarious had passed. He knew he was now on the outside looking in. There were better feelings in the world.
Mitch turned and walked up the steps, back to the rocky debris where a mountain once stood, for no other reason but to get a few minutes of air between him and his old team. He crouched down, looking back at the lake and watching the team work their new plan: a deeper channel that could hold more water. One that would make it to the other side and hopefully get them out of this world.
A few minutes later, the team had the water flowing again. It inched along as it had before, but now flowed deeper with darker shades of blue blocks stretching across the full length of the channel. The water hit the pipe mouth across the lake as everyone but Mitch exchanged high-fives and stump bumps. He followed loosely behind as the group headed across to the other side, Fuse’s rabbits trailing behind him.
As the water filled the mouth of the dry pipe, the ground began to shake. Panels of black blocks on the wall beneath the pipe mouth shattered, two, three at a time, revealing a series of pistons, churning, powered by steam, and igniting green lights on either side of the gate. By the time Mitch reached the far side, the gate had begun to creak up and open, kicking off with a loud mechanical pop. With slow and powerful movement, the gate pulled up into the air at a glacial pace.
“We did it,” Fuse yelled, punching Dak on the shoulder.
Dak nodded back, his eyes never leaving the gate. “What—what do you suppose is behind this thing?” Dak asked with a new hint of caution in his voice.
Just then, Mitch saw a message crackle to life on the wall above them, replacing the WATER IS POWER neon with a new, very overdue set of words.
LEVEL 1 COMPLETE
Mitch quickly scoured his inventory, finding all code packages lit as active, ready to roll, as an indicator showed his Karma point total bumped up by two thousand. Mitch held one of the orbs out at the end of his arm stub and called for the team to come in close. “Everyone, time to say goodbye to BlockJoyMagic. Get in here—hands on shoulders. Let’s—”
But before he could finish the sentence, the blast hit.
The massive explosion brought with it a wall of force that blew Mitch clear onto his back. He hit the ground like a sack of concrete, quickly fighting to regain his wits, finding himself singed and dazed, his ears ringing like church bells on Sunday. He scrambled to figure out what had just happened. Is the rest of the team—are they ok? He craned his neck up to see a massive crack under the gate splitting the earth in two, right down the wickets, moving fast, headed right for him. He rolled out of its path, scampering across the ground until he felt an arm hit the stone wall. Looking back, he saw that the crack, now at least twenty feet wide, had reached all the way to the lake and was filling back towards the gate with lava, block by block. The rest of the group was splayed out on the other side—of course they were—all lying on their sides, but seemingly all right.
Out of the fog, footsteps sent shock waves through the ground. As Mitch tried to regain his footing, the tremors shook him back down, again and again.
And that’s when Mitch looked up to see something that he couldn’t believe.
Someone who had haunted his dreams, night and day, for years.
It can’t be.
The faded red uniform of a soldier—a mercenary—fitted and armored. The electric buzz emitting waves off his silhouette. And three sinister slits across his helmet where eyes should have been. Mitch rose to his feet, his mouth dry, his jaw on the ground.
“Lordy, lordy, what a mess,” Red Code said, skipping over the gate’s threshold, taking a loose inventory of the Nefarious crew strewn out before him. “You guys are really bad at this. Like, awful. Think that puzzle took you long enough? That one tested out at a seven-year-old level.” He waited for a response, but the crowd was too stunned to speak. “Seven. Years. Old. That means you’re dumb. All of you. And you might get dumber when you’re working together.”
Mitch froze. He was here—the soldier that had taken him down. The soldier who’d ruined his life. The soldier Mitch had thought he’d never see again. Red Code paced towards him, and with the quickest move Mitch had ever seen, grabbed for his neck. He pulled Mitch off the ground, holding him high in the air like an MVP with his newly won trophy, turning him slightly to the left and right for closer inspection. With each turn, he closed his grip tighter and tighter around Mitch’s throat. Mitch could feel his body tingling, and looked down to see his BlockJoyMagic avatar fade away, his form reverting back to his true Karma Systems body, complete with Skirmish armor.
“Now I’ve built a lot of things in my time, believe me,” Red Code said, laughing. “Built this whole world and a thousand others. Built things you wouldn’t want to imagine, things you couldn’t imagine. Entire games just to destroy them, to watch the trees burn and little digital children beg for their lives.” As he pulled Mitch in closer, his voice turned to a whisper. “But I think I’d remember creating you.”
TWENTY-THREE
Grab a Green One
“HOLD UP A MINUTE, PEOPLE,” Red Code proclaimed, tossing Mitch to the s
ide and holding his hands out like a southern preacher about to reveal a fresh revelation. “I’m getting some memory hits here. This could be a big deal.”
He walked a few paces towards the chasm, peering over at Dozer, Dak, and Fuse all still on their knees. With a push of his right hand, the three Nefarious team members all washed over with a digital shedding of their skin, rendering out of their BlockJoyMagic states and back into their Skirmish avatars just like Mitch had.
“Ok, ok,” Red Code said, nodding. “I do remember you assholes. I didn’t create you, but I did stomp all over your tiny little human dreams, right? It was back in the big arena ... with the thing ... I kicked someone’s ass.” He scratched his chin, slowly peeling his fingers into a point. “God, I’m so sorry, I never forget a face, but I’m just terrible with names ... that’s a thing people say, right? Actually I remember both because I’m a computer program, but I’m trying to fit in a little more these days. Don’t have a lot of friends, new kid at school and all that. No, you see, my memory was segmented out into new worlds and existing ones. Not sure why some moron would program me that way.” He clicked his head to the side and turned back. “Ok, all fixed.”
Mitch had seen a lot of things in the Karma Systems world, but he was pretty sure no one had seen anything like this. All the bosses at each Skirmish level were written as badass warriors from different military outfits around the globe, plucked as the best-of-the-best from various timelines across history.
This guy was more like a game show host.
“Deeply interesting,” Fuse said, rising to his feet. “We’re witnessing a fully aware AI. This is no brute, no cookie-cutter final boss. It seems to have grown more powerful than when we last met. And plus, it can talk now.” Fuse turned to Mitch, smiling. “How did it learn how to talk?”
“It learned how to talk because it’s not a fucking idiot,” Red Code lectured. “I have access to all Karma Systems language dictionaries, algorithms, and voice packages. So yeah, it can talk. Pretty complicated: couldn’t talk before, then I learned. Now it talk. It talk verrrr good.”
Dak paced backwards, his words shaking off the back of his throat. “Watching the battle in the archives, I always thought Red Code was an anomaly, a one-time thing. A bug in the Skirmish code.”
“Pretty big bug,” Dozer said, rising to her feet in a hunched position, keeping her eyes locked. “Ugly one, too.”
“So—this is great and all, really fun to catch up,” Red Code said, “but I’ve got a hair appointment, so let’s all buckle up and get this clown car back on the speedway, shall we? And to do that, I’m going to need to know which one of you newbs is in charge.”
The team stared back without a sound.
“Your … leader?” Red Code repeated, slamming a fist against the canyon’s cliff wall, shaking the game off its axis for a few seconds. “It’s a pretty easy question, you bag of monkeys. Where is he?”
“He? He?” Dozer was the first to pipe up. “Why does it have to be a he?” She shook her head, putting a hand on Dak’s shoulder. “This is the guy, right here. Let him know what’s up, Dak. Show him how N5 rolls.”
“He’s real,” Dak muttered, taking another step back. “Red Code is real. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t in any of the training. Everyone at the academy assumed it couldn’t happen again.”
“Okay, let’s calm your shit down a bit here,” Red Code said, with the tone of a man trying to sell the group a used car at a really, really reasonable price. “We can do this, me and you. So you’re name’s Dak? That’s terrific. I mean, it’s not a terrific name; it’s awful, actually. Way better than Red Code, but let’s be honest, that’s not my fault. I’d love to meet the marketing genius that threw that anchor around my neck. Anyway, what I need from you isn’t asking much. It’s super easy and then I’ll get out of your virtual hair. Pinky swear. Just need you to take me back to Skirmish, pronto, a.s.a.p. Like, right now.”
“Back?” Dak stammered. “Why back to Skirmish?”
“Doesn’t matter, why Skirmish,” Dozer announced. “Ain’t gonna happen.”
Ignoring Dozer, Red Code continued his sales pitch. “ ‘Cause Skirmish is the place to be, cuz. It’s where all the action’s at. Haven’t been able to get a Skirmish stamp in the old passport since our little encounter a few years back. Must be on the no-fly list, you know what I’m saying? But I’m really looking forward to catching up. Seeing the sights. Maybe get tickets to a show?”
“My scan is showing his level at more than five hundred,” Fuse said, checking the number again. “Is that even possible?”
Dak didn’t say a word. To be honest, Mitch wasn’t sure if Dak was still breathing. He just stood and stared with panic dripping from his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but it just hung there, moving with the breeze, like an old rusty swing set hinting at an oncoming storm.
“Mitch,” Fuse said, not taking his eyes of Red Code. “Can we get the hell out of here, please?”
Mitch watched as Red Code plucked a pistol out of his holster, spinning it around his index finger, giving the group a few more seconds to decide their fate. Mitch found himself frozen—he couldn’t run, he couldn’t fight. The only thing he could move was his eyes. He looked Red Code up and down, studying him. Not looking for weaknesses—just trying to understand what the hell was standing in front of him, and why he’d come back.
He’s armed the same as me—Razor pulse rifle, grenades, sidearm.
That’s when it clicked. Mitch snuck a look down at his body to see his regular kit—dark fatigues, gear bags, and most importantly, his base weapons package. It was the first time he’d seen his avatar looking anywhere close to normal since heading into this whole mess.
He’s armed the same as me.
Mitch inched as close to the tear in the ground as he could manage, feeling a rush of heat from the flowing, molten lava. Looking across the chasm, Dak was the only team member close enough to get a message to. Mitch leaned in, trying to speak without moving his lips, like a really bad ventriloquist at a two-drink minimum club. Mitch couldn’t tell if Red Code’s eyes were paying any attention behind his mask, but he’d have to trust his luck.
“Dak,” Mitch whispered.
“Oh, hey, Mitch,” Dak said, in a bit of a daze. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to cause a distraction,” Mitch said. He slowly plucked a code package out of his gear bag and slid it behind his back. “And then I’m going to throw you my backpack. You grab a code package from the bag and make sure the rest of the team is in contact with you when you activate it. Then you’ll all head to the next world.”
“What about you?” Dak asked.
“I’ve got a package here in my hand. Once you all make it out, I’ll see you on the other side.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dak whispered, the fear cracking his voice. “What if we make him angry? What if he follows us? What if Red Code is in the next game when we get there?”
“I’m sure that won’t happen,” Mitch whispered. “No way that happens. Let’s just stick to the plan and get out of this. I’m going to throw the backpack over on three. You ready?”
Swallowing hard, Dak nodded back.
Mitch carefully brought up his inventory to make sure everything was still online.
MISSION-FORWARD CODE PACKAGE (5)
PARACHUTE CODE PACKAGE (2)
“Just remember,” Mitch whispered over to Dak, “mission-forward packages are green. The parachutes—the ones that take a user back to Karma HQ—those are red. Grab a green one.” Mitch shoved the spare code package into his vest and pulled out a grenade with his free hand, eyeing the monolithic stone walls towering over either side of Red Code.
Mitch lobbed the grenade as far as he could with one hand, tossing the gear bag over to Dak with the other. As the grenade traveled up on its path, the bag landed in a flop on the ground at Dak’s feet, just a few inches past the lava.
The grenade exploded,
rocking the canyon as Red Code dove for the ground. He rose back up, shielding his head as he dodged falling debris.
“What was that?” Dozer asked. “Did you throw a grenade?” She looked down at her supplies. “When did we get weapons?”
“Oh, no, you did not just do that!” Red Code yelled, wagging a single finger at Mitch. “I thought we had a thing going here, people.” He swung his rifle into his hands, feeling the grip with a deep inhale. His voice changed to a mocking, young, high-pitched whine. “Um, have you guys played the Red Code level? It’s so hard, like impossible! Right? Why would they even make it that hard, it’s not any fun!” He raised his rifle and began pacing towards them.
The next noise Mitch heard wasn’t rifle fire, but a slightly delayed avalanche made up of hundreds of bricks, dislodged by his grenade’s explosion, falling down on Red Code from high above. Red Code was knocked sideways by the first wave of rubble, the second knocking the rifle out of his hand. Then, the blocks came in threes and fours, raining down on him, covering him from head to toe.
“Dak, get that code package and get the hell out of here,” Mitch yelled.
Dak froze in place. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” he muttered. “It’s not my fault ... I trained for everything, but not this ... how could I have? ... I have a family, Mitch ... I can’t get deleted ... I can’t start over ... I trained for everything ... I tried my best to train for everything.”
A crash of blocks hitting the mountainside echoed through the valley. Mitch looked up to see Red Code, rising through the chaos, dusting himself off and plucking his rifle from the ground. “Oh, Daddy mad.” He paced forward, raising his rifle back to his shoulder. “Daddy very mad.”
“Dak, c’mon man,” Mitch yelled. “Open the bag.”
“I can’t,” Dak said, staring down at the backpack. “I’m not trained for this. I’m not ready for this.”
Fuse and Dozer exchanged looks and took position a few feet in front of Dak. They began to build a curved wall between them and Red Code using dark gray blocks of stone, a few blocks deep. Bullets began to fly, spraying the makeshift shelter as Mitch ran for the fall wall to take cover. Fuse and Dozer kept building as fast as they could. As each block disappeared from incoming gunfire, they laid another back in place as fast as their hands would let them.
Side Quest Page 14