A Game Called Chaos

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “But in the end I guess that was a double-edged sword. Anne got a lot more attention than she wanted. Maybe she was really a loner at heart. So she cut out on the tour and went on vacation in the Caribbean. Unfortunately, she never came back. Her private plane crashed at sea and she died.”

  “Wow. What rotten luck,” Joe said.

  “Yeah,” Chelsea said. “She was at the top of her profession before her death. I guess Royal took it pretty hard. But he did do another game, Forest of Chaos, without her. Unfortunately, it didn’t do as well as the first two.”

  “For which Royal blamed Rosenberg,” Frank added.

  “Right, but the game really wasn’t as good. With the new game, Royal seems to be back on track,” Chelsea said. “A Town Called Chaos is a great game.”

  “What about what Winters said,” Frank asked, “that Anne was the brains behind the games?”

  “Well, if that were true, you couldn’t tell it from the new game. It’s way better than the first three. Personally, I think Sakai’s death shook Royal, that’s why the third game didn’t turn out as well. Winters is just a jealous crank. A talented crank, but a crank nonetheless.”

  “Did Sakai have any relatives who could still be involved with the game?” Joe asked.

  Chelsea wrinkled her forehead and thought a moment. “I’m not sure. I think she had heirs, but Royal never mentioned them. If you like, I can check at the office tomorrow. Do you think they might know where Royal is?”

  “They could,” Frank said. “And what about this Tochi character? Do you think he might have something to do with Royal’s disappearance?”

  “You mean, he might not have gone off on his own?” asked Chelsea, surprised.

  “Yes,” Frank said. “It’s entirely possible that Steven Royal has been kidnapped.”

  4 Kidnapped?

  * * *

  “But you can’t be serious,” said Chelsea. “Who would want to kidnap Royal?”

  “Could be someone out to get back at him, or at a rival company, or just someone who wants money,” Frank said.

  Chelsea looked puzzled. “But if they wanted money, why the riddles?”

  Frank shrugged. “Possibly to throw us off. I’m not saying that Royal has been kidnapped. I’m just saying that we don’t really have enough facts at this point to rule anything out. Steven Royal is missing; that’s all we really know.”

  “So you think maybe Tochi kidnapped him?” Chelsea asked.

  “At this moment anything is possible,” Joe said. “And Tochi did send that threatening letter that Royal had framed.”

  “It’s just too much to think about tonight,” Chelsea said. “I need some rest. We can start fresh in the morning.”

  “Good idea,” Frank said. “Joe and I should be getting back to Bayport. It’s a two-hour drive.” He and Joe stood up to leave.

  “I’ve got a spare sofa if you’d like to stay the night,” Chelsea suggested.

  “Well, it would save time . . .” Joe said.

  “And we’ve got some extra clothes in the van,” added Frank. “So, Ms. Sirkin, I guess you’ve got yourself a couple of houseguests.”

  “I’ll call home and let them know what’s up,” Joe said.

  “Check in with Phil, too,” Frank suggested. “Maybe he’s turned up something. I’ll get some stuff out of the van.”

  Joe nodded. “Good idea.”

  • • •

  Frank and Joe got up early and puzzled over the case as they made breakfast. Phil hadn’t had anything to report.

  When Chelsea finally joined them, she looked worn out. The Hardys could tell she hadn’t slept well.

  “What’s the good word?” Chelsea asked sleepily.

  “Waffles,” Joe said. “Want some?”

  She nodded and then took a seat at the small table in her combination kitchen/dining room. Joe plopped a plate of waffles in front of her and Frank poured the syrup and a glass of milk.

  “Thanks, guys. I needed this,” she said, taking a big forkful. A few bites later, she added, “You know, I’ve been thinking about Tochi. I think I read that he went to college with Royal and Sakai.”

  “So, all three of them shared a past,” said Joe. “And now one is dead and another is missing.”

  At that moment the phone rang. Chelsea picked it up. After listening for a few seconds she handed the phone to Frank. “It’s Phil.”

  Frank took the phone. “Hi, Phil. Found anything for us yet?” He nodded his head as Phil spoke. Joe edged closer to try to hear the conversation but couldn’t pick up anything.

  “Okay, that’s great,” Frank said. “Thanks. We’ll get in touch if we need you again. No. Everything’s fine here. Yeah. Goodbye.” He hung up the phone.

  “Well?” Joe asked, curious.

  “Phil says that whoever sent the e-mails bounced them through a number of servers before they got to Viking and Wondersoft. That’s why it took him so long to track them down.”

  “You mean like hiring a guy, who hires another guy, who hires a third guy to deliver a package so someone won’t know it came from you,” Joe said.

  “Yeah. That’s the general idea. The trick is finding that first guy.” Frank smiled. “We’re lucky that Phil knows what he’s doing. Anyway, when he finished the trace, both e-mails originated at the same place: the mainframe computer at Northern Connecticut University.”

  “Northern Connecticut University?” Chelsea said. “That’s where Sakai, Royal, and Tochi went to school!”

  “Hey,” Frank said, “that makes sense with the last riddle. Remember that bit about ‘ignorance or knowledge,’ and ‘seek . . . the master?’ Well, colleges turn ignorance into knowledge, and ‘master’ could be another word for teacher.”

  “And ‘apprentice’ for student,” Joe added.

  “Which all ties in to the clue about the past—Royal’s past—being the future,” Chelsea said, smiling just a bit.

  “It looks like we’re going to have to take a tour of Royal’s personal history to find your game prototype, Chelsea,” Frank said.

  “Then I’d say that Northern Connecticut University is our next stop,” concluded Joe.

  “Coming with?” Frank asked Chelsea.

  “I think I should stay here and coordinate things from the office. Plus, Dave will want to know what you guys have dug up. Don’t forget to check in with the police.”

  “We’ll talk to them on the way out of town,” Joe said.

  • • •

  Chatting with the police took longer than Frank and Joe expected. Unfortunately, the conversation didn’t give the Hardys any new leads. It was late morning when Frank and Joe finally began the trip from Jewel Ridge to Chisholm, Connecticut, where the university was located. Because of highway construction, it took almost three hours to get there.

  At the library, Frank and Joe posed as students doing a summer advanced-placement research paper and obtained permission to use the library. The librarian checked their Bayport High IDs and gave them a temporary password in order to use the computer for the day.

  Summer had emptied the college of most students, and Frank and Joe had little trouble finding a free terminal. They called Phil, who told them how to get past the computer’s security systems so they could get into the files they needed.

  “Here are Royal’s academic records,” Joe said. “But I don’t really see anything that’d lead us to him. Looks like he was a pretty average student. Didn’t cause any trouble. Paid his bills on time. Not much else.”

  “Cross-reference him with the school newspaper database,” Frank suggested.

  “Okay. There’s more here. Some stuff about him and Sakai creating their own game. An article about the Chaos series. An award he, Sakai, and Tochi won for being entrepreneurs. Things about Tochi, too. An article about Bombo Bear. Hey!”

  “What?”

  “Looks like Tochi’s still here,” Joe said. “He’s working as an assistant professor of engineering.”

  Frank n
odded. “That’s interesting. Since he works here, he has easy access to the computer system every day. See if there’s anything else, and then we’ll look him up before we leave town.”

  “I could probably get his address from the database and . . . What?”

  Frank leaned over his brother’s shoulder so he could see the computer screen better. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Something funny just happened to the computer,” Joe said. “It froze up—crashed or something.” He typed a few commands, but nothing happened. Then, suddenly, the screen came back to life. A message appeared.

  Riddles in the ether, riddles in the tunnels. Past and future, you decide. Caught between History and Art. Oh, what a tangled web we weave!

  The message flashed a few times and then disappeared. Fortunately, Joe had scribbled it down.

  “Looks like the games aren’t over,” Frank said.

  “What I want to know,” Joe said, “is how this guy knows where we are.”

  “He probably doesn’t,” said Frank. “He’s good with computers, so he could have created a program to keep watch on his files. Anyone checking them would cause the message to pop up.”

  “And we just happened to be the lucky victims,” Joe said. “Makes sense. Now let’s see if we can make sense of this riddle.”

  “Okay, if this riddle—the one that just appeared and vanished—is the riddle in the ether, then the next clue must be the riddles in the tunnel,” Frank said. “Then more stuff about the past and future. . . . Hmm.”

  “In School of Chaos, there were some steam tunnels with treasure in them,” Joe said. “Hey! Don’t some college campuses use steam tunnels for heating? Let me check something. . . .” Joe typed a few commands into the computer and found the article he wanted.

  “Frank, check this out,” he said. “In the article about the Chaos series, it says that the School of Chaos is loosely based on the NCU campus.”

  “Bring up a heating plan of the university,” Frank said. “See if there are any steam tunnels here.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Joe said, already typing commands into the computer. Moments later a diagram of the tunnels popped up on the screen. “Wow. Looks like a giant spiderweb.”

  Frank smiled. “Fits right in with the riddle, doesn’t it? Now, how do we figure out where to look in the tunnels? Searching the whole system could take days.”

  “I bet there’s another clue in the riddle,” Joe said. “What about this . . . ‘Caught between Art and History.’ Maybe that isn’t just another reference to his past.”

  “You’re right, Joe! It could refer to a place on campus. So the next clue could be in the tunnels between the art and history buildings. What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

  “Can we grab something from a vending machine on the way?” said Joe. “I’m famished!”

  “Okay,” Frank said. “We’ll pick up our backpacks from the car, too. We might need supplies. Who knows what’s down in those tunnels?”

  “In the game there was treasure,” Joe said.

  “What, no monsters?” Frank asked.

  “Well, now that you mention it . . . I guess there were monsters, too.”

  Stopping at the van and finding food didn’t slow the Hardys down much. Nor did the lock on the door to the tunnels under the history building. Joe opened it with his lock pick in just seconds. The door creaked ominously as they swung it open and peered into the dark tunnel beyond. Joe reached for the light switch and flicked it on. Nothing happened.

  “Must have burned out,” he said.

  Frank pulled a flashlight from his backpack. “Be prepared,” he said.

  “Frank, you are such a Boy Scout,” Joe said, and laughed as he pulled out his flashlight, too. Joe led the way down the tunnel.

  Huge steam pipes ran along the walls and ceiling of the tunnel, leaving a clear path down the middle for a person to walk. “Doesn’t look like anybody’s been down here in a while,” Joe said. He brushed his fingers along the insulation of one pipe, and they came up dusty.

  “That would explain the lights,” Frank said. “But be careful, just in case.”

  “Yeah, watch yourself. There’s water on the floor.”

  “Boy,” Frank said sarcastically, “that’d be unusual in a steam tunnel.”

  Joe laughed and kept walking. “At least there are no monsters.”

  “Joe, look out!”

  Frank rushed forward, but he was too late. Joe had already tripped on a thin strand of wire strung across the corridor a few inches above the floor. Frank grabbed Joe’s shirt to try to keep him from falling, but Joe’s momentum pulled his brother down with him.

  Instead of hitting the cement floor of the tunnel, Joe and Frank landed on soft netting.

  “Boy,” Joe said, “lucky this net was here.”

  “Maybe not so lucky,” Frank replied. “I’m stuck.”

  “Hey, me, too!” Joe said. Sure enough, the sticky strands of the netting held them tight.

  “Joe, this isn’t a net,” Frank said. “It’s a giant spiderweb!”

  5 The Spider

  * * *

  “Joe,” Frank said, “in the School of Chaos game, are the monsters in the steam tunnels spiders?”

  “Now that you mention it, yeah, they are. Good thing this is real life, and not a video game.”

  “Right at the moment, Joe, I’m not so sure. Look!” Frank raised his arm and pointed.

  Joe glanced up at the steam pipes running above their heads. Something was scurrying along the pipes. Joe pointed his flashlight at it, and then immediately wished he hadn’t. A giant black and yellow spider skittered along a pipe toward the brothers.

  “Shoo! Shoo! Go away!” Joe said. The creature seemed to be the size of a salad plate and had red eyes.

  “I didn’t know spiders grew that big,” Frank said.

  “No, neither did I, but obviously this one has mutated down here,” Joe answered, trying to make sense of the size of the spider.

  As Joe and Frank pulled webbing off themselves, more of the sticky mesh adhered. “I don’t like this game anymore. Could you log us off and shut down the computer, please, Frank?” Joe said.

  “Wish I could, Joe.”

  Just then the spider began to descend toward the brothers on a long strand of silk spun from its abdomen.

  “I can’t reach my backpack,” Frank said, struggling against the sticky strands. “Can you reach yours?”

  “No. But . . . wait a minute, I might be able to reach my front pocket. Slow that spider down, will you, Frank?”

  “I’ll try.” Frank still had his flashlight in his hand. He took careful aim with it, using all the skills he’d acquired as a pitcher in baseball. When he knew he had the distance, Frank flung the flashlight at the spider as hard as he could.

  It hit the arachnid, but didn’t knock it from its web. Instead, it set the spider swinging. The creature flailed wildly, trying to regain its balance. It made a strange clicking sound as it struggled.

  “Nice job, Frank,” Joe said, and pulled out his pocketknife, which he deftly opened with one hand.

  He cut through the strands of webbing that had his upper body trapped. By that time, though, the spider had stopped its silk line from swinging and was beginning its deadly descent toward the brothers once more.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” said Joe. He stripped off his backpack and swung it with all his might at the spider, now only a few feet away. The pack connected and the spider went flying.

  The creature smashed against the tunnel wall with a crunch. Then it fell to the floor. A few seconds later it stopped moving.

  “Great work, Joe!” yelled Frank.

  “Best hit I’ve had all year,” said the younger Hardy. It didn’t take him long to free Frank from the web also.

  “That was close,” Joe added.

  “Maybe not as close as we thought,” Frank said. He moved toward the fallen spider. “This spider isn’t real.”

  “I knew
there was something wrong with it.” Shining his flashlight on the thing’s body, Joe could see that it had broken open. The creature’s insides were made up of wires, gears, and electronic circuitry. “I don’t know whether to be glad it’s not real, or frightened. Royal went to a lot of trouble to scare us with this one.”

  Frank had retrieved his flashlight and taken out his pocketknife. He began poking around the innards of the spider. “Sure did. It doesn’t seem to be booby-trapped. . . . What’s this?” He stuck his fingers into the machine and pulled out a thin, metallic sheet.

  “Looks like foil paper,” Joe said.

  “That’s exactly what it is,” Frank said as he unfolded the sheet. A message was written on the papery inner surface.

  The Forest is not my work, but you’ll find my work there. Seek the primeval cave, for the golden prize lies within. The past and future are at hand!

  “Boy, am I getting tired of these riddles,” Joe said. “And all this past-future stuff.”

  “This sounds like it might be the end of the game. So, what do you make of it?”

  “Well, Chelsea said that Tochi claimed Royal had put a parody of Bombo Bear in Forest of Chaos. That’s why Tochi sent that threatening note,” Joe said.

  Frank nodded. “Which would explain the ‘work’ reference—if Tochi wrote this. But what about the primeval cave?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe said. “But I’m betting that Chelsea would know. And Tochi might, too. Do you think that he and Royal could have stopped feuding? Could they be working together on this prank?”

  “If they are, I don’t much like their senses of humor.”

  Joe frowned. “Neither do I.”

  Frank scooped up the mechanical spider and put it in his backpack. “Let’s go have a talk with Professor Tochi.”

  After checking the rest of the tunnel for more clues, or traps, the Hardys went back to their van. On the way, they stopped at a phone booth and got Tochi’s address. He lived just off campus. The sun had set by the time the Hardys hit the road again.

  As they were driving to Tochi’s place, their car phone rang. Joe was behind the wheel, so Frank picked it up.