by Jason Segel
I look over at Busara. She shrugs. She doesn’t know what he’s talking about either.
“What present?” I ask.
“I found the projector after the collapse. It’s just a hunk of metal at this point, but it can tie the Company to what happened to Kat and her friends. I couldn’t keep it here, so I took it to the hospital to give it to you. When you got hauled out by security, I put it in your locker at school.”
“That’s what you were talking about at the country club? When you asked if I’d ‘gotten it’?”
“Yeah,” says Marlow. “Kat always said you were a genius. I thought you might be the one who could figure out what to do with it.”
Busara has the combination to my locker. She’ll get the projector, but it could take days to figure out what to do with it—and Kat can’t wait that long. So my body is back at Elmer’s. Busara was there when I went under, and she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me return. But she helped me put the disk back on, and she told me where to go. One realm lies between the wasteland outside Nastrond where we buried Carole and the ice cave I need to reach. Imperium, she called it.
I open my eyes to find I’m lying next to Carole’s grave, Gorog’s pudgy face inches from mine.
“Preparing for a career in dermatology?” I ask. “If so, I’ve got a mole on my left sack you might want a look at.”
“You’re back!” Gorog leaps to his feet and does a weird little dance. I don’t think anyone’s ever been so happy to see me. Red dust devils crisscross the landscape behind him while flashes of blue lightning illuminate the sky.
“Stop for a second,” I say. “We need to talk.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
Nothing’s been okay for quite some time. I’m not sure anything will ever be okay again.
“We’ve got to get moving. But I need to ask you a few questions before we go. Remember I told you your body’s been injured? It’s being kept in a facility where they take care of your basic needs. If I have a chance to get you out of there, do you want me to try?”
“Yeah,” says the ogre. “Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I don’t know what kind of condition your body is in,” I admit. “I don’t know how well you’ll be able to use it.”
“I don’t care,” Gorog says emphatically. “Anything is better than this.”
I have to agree with him there. “Okay. In order for me to find you, I need to know what you look like in real life,” I tell the ogre. Even after all this time, it feels weird to ask.
“I have brown hair and brown eyes and brown skin,” he says sheepishly.
“Your powers of description astound me. Can you give me a bit more to work with? How tall are you? How much do you weigh?”
“Last time I went to the doctor I was five three and weighed a hundred and fifteen pounds.”
WTF? “Are you a girl?” I ask him, trying not to sound surprised.
“What? Hell no!” he shouts.
“Sorry,” I say. “You’re just a bit smaller than most guys I know.”
“Screw you. My dad’s six four. I’ll be his height eventually.”
The horror is starting to seep into my brain. “Wait a second. How old are you?” I ask Gorog.
“I turned fourteen a few weeks ago,” says the ogre.
“Right.” I pretend the news makes no difference to me. But if that bastard Milo Yolkin were standing in front of me, I would kick him to death. Fourteen. The kid’s fighting for his life and he’s fourteen years old.
We start walking, though I have no idea where we’re going. The scorching sun begins to sink, and a flash of light on the horizon catches my eye. I’m too exhausted to form words, so I point. Gorog grunts and we pick up speed. The lights grow brighter and more colorful as what looks like a forest of glass and steel takes shape before us. The red wasteland ends abruptly. We’re standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at a city unlike any I’ve seen before. Clustered together are hundreds of skyscrapers. No two of them are the same, and all appear to be under construction. Land in this realm must be in short supply. The owners seem to be claiming the heavens, competing against one another to build the most intimidating towers. A few have already reached too high and are leaning precariously against their neighbors.
Each of the towers bears the distinctive stamp of its owner. Some feature giant video screens playing film loops of avatars dressed in the uniforms of Wall Street executives, Eastern European oligarchs or African dictators. Other owners have marked their buildings with retro-cool neon signs or hologram icons. But in the center of the city, one skyscraper rises far above the rest, its gleaming black walls resembling polished obsidian. Either the place has no windows or the building’s all windows. It’s impossible to tell. There’s no mistaking the identity of its owner, though. Near the top of the structure, the name MOLOCH is emblazoned in blinding gold lights.
The Moloch building is already the tallest I’ve ever seen, but it’s still in the middle of a growth spurt. A massive orange crane squats on top, hauling up materials for the dozens of NPCs crawling all over the upper reaches of the structure. From this distance, the workers seem ant-size and the top three floors appear to be little more than concrete slabs and steel columns.
“Someone’s coming,” Gorog says, just as my ears pick up the sound of vehicles below. A line of five tiny Humvees has emerged from between two towers, traveling toward us on what appears to be the only road out of the city. They’re still miles away, and most of those miles will be straight uphill. There’s plenty of time to run or hide. But I don’t see the point. Neither does Gorog, I guess. We don’t bother to discuss what to do next. We just sit down on a rock and wait.
The Humvees come to a stop in front of us, their engines still idling and their tailpipes spewing a fog of exhaust. Nothing seems to be happening. Then one of the doors opens and a man gets out alone to greet us. The closer he comes, the handsomer he gets. Clean-cut and well groomed, he looks like a cross between Prince Charming and the president of a Young Republicans club. He’s wearing chinos and a blue chambray shirt with a black flak jacket on top. The name MOLOCH is spelled out in golden letters on the front of his black helmet.
The man waves. “Hello!” he calls out as he takes off his helmet. “I hope we haven’t startled you. We’ve been watching you head this way for hours.”
I gotta say, I think I may hate this guy already.
“Daaamn. Looks like Goldman and Sachs had a baby,” Gorog snickers under his breath.
I wish I could laugh. I’m glad the ogre’s recovered his sense of humor. Mine may be gone for good.
The man comes up to us and reaches out to shake my hand. “Welcome to Imperium.” His voice is familiar, but I can’t place it. “My name is Moloch. I’m the Elemental in charge of this realm.” I guess I wasn’t expecting the dude with the biggest building and creepiest name to have a haircut like my dad’s. It’s like meeting a tax accountant named Beelzebub. “You must be Simon. I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”
He’s been waiting for me? I’ve been wrong before, but I’m willing to bet that’s not a good sign.
“You knew Simon was coming?” Gorog asks warily.
“Well, I hoped. I’ve heard you’re on your way to the glacier, and Imperium is the closest realm to the ice fields.” Moloch turns to the ogre. “I’m sorry, and your name is?”
“Lancelot,” Gorog says without hesitation.
“Pleasure to meet you, Lancelot,” the Elemental replies with a knowing smile. Then he turns to me. “A friend of yours traveled through Imperium a little over a day ago. She said you’d probably be following her.”
The relief is so goddamn powerful that I feel like I might float away. Kat’s alive, and there might still be a chance to catch up to her. Then a thought drags me back down. This is the third time Kat predicted I’d be following her. If she really believed it, why the hell didn’t she wait?
“She’s on a rather urgent mission
, as you know,” says Moloch, who must have been reading my mind. “She wanted to reach the glacier early so she’d have time to scout the place out and plan the attack. I will give you and the ogre a room for the night and take you to your friend first thing in the morning.”
“Hold on a sec. My friend is planning to attack the Creator?” I ask. If so, this is the first I’ve heard of it. “And you’re cool with that?” The Elemental of Mammon didn’t even want me to speak to him.
An alarm goes off in the city below us. It sounds like the wail of an air-raid siren. Moloch turns his head in the direction of the noise. I wonder if he knows where it’s coming from. It stops as suddenly as it began and his attention returns to me. “Yes, well, your friend has come to the conclusion that killing Magna is the only solution—to Otherworld’s problems as well as her own. I’m afraid I have to agree with her.”
The land beyond the skyscrapers is as white as a blank sheet of paper. On the far side of Imperium lie the ice fields Gorog and I need to cross before we reach the glacier. Who knows how long it will take or what we’ll encounter along the way? If I’ve learned anything here, it’s that Otherworld is full of surprises.
“Thanks for offering us a place to stay, but I’d like to head for the ice fields right now,” I say. I can’t wait another twelve hours to see Kat. And I don’t want her to try to kill Magna on her own.
“I would love to take you,” says the Elemental. “But the sun will be down soon, and it is no longer safe to travel through my land after dark.”
It seems peaceful enough to me. At the top of the towers, the NPC crews have disappeared. I wonder where they go when the working day is over. “Why not?”
Moloch sighs. “We’ve had quite a few problems with the Children lately. Have you met the Children?”
“I’ve had the pleasure,” I tell him.
His face wrinkles with disgust. “Then you know they’re abominations. They were never meant to exist. Magna should have exterminated them all long ago, but he couldn’t summon the intestinal fortitude to finish the job. Now they feel entitled to Otherworld, and Imperium is on the front lines of the war. Unless we destroy them, it won’t be long before they overrun us. While Magna sulks in his cave, I’ve had to deal with the Children on my own.”
“Whose Children are they?”
“Not mine, I assure you,” says Moloch. “Most of the Children in Imperium are his children. He traveled every inch of Otherworld in the early days, and his DNA ended up mixing with many of his creations. The idiot didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Come.” Moloch motions for us to follow him back toward the line of idling Humvees. “We should head for safety unless you’d like to meet the local Children. As you’ve probably learned by now, they aren’t very fond of humans.”
Those are the magic words, as far as I’m concerned. As much as I pity them, I’ve seen what the Children can do. So even though I’m not all that keen to have a sleepover with Mr. Perfect, I’m not sure what other options Gorog and I have. Besides, if Moloch and his men wanted to take us by force, I’m sure they could. Right now they’re playing nice. Which makes me suspect Moloch wants something from us. I’m curious to know what it is.
—
We’re hustled into one of the Humvees. Moloch and I are in the back while Gorog sits with his neck bent and his knees wedged against his chest in the front passenger seat. I watch through a tiny window as we travel down the dirt road that leads from the cliff to the city below. The driver seems to be in a hurry to reach our destination. He hits every bump at top speed, ignoring the yelps that come from Gorog, whose head keeps thumping against the Humvee’s roof. Finally we get to the outskirts of Imperium, and the road turns to smooth asphalt. The Humvee steers between two towers on the edge of the realm, and the fading sun is immediately extinguished. Without its streetlights, the canyons of Imperium would be as dark as the dead of night. My eyes are drawn to a building up ahead. Its bottom floors are completely scorched, and the glass from its windows lies scattered across the road.
“Wow. Did the Children do that?” I ask Moloch.
“No,” he says. “The fire took place before the Children began interrupting our gameplay. You see, the towers of Imperium are vertical empires. They’re ruled by guests and house thousands of residents. The more powerful the guest, the more workers he owns. The more workers he owns, the higher his building will rise. But ruling an empire is much more difficult than most realize. In this case, the workers mutinied and pillaged the building. Then they tossed their owner’s body from the roof. I’m afraid he never saw the rebellion coming.”
As we pass by, a face appears in one of the blackened windows. It’s a beautiful young girl with shimmering silver hair.
“Hey, who’s that?” Gorog asks.
Moloch leans over me for a better look. The girl steps back from the window, but not in time. “It’s one of the Children,” he says. The driver mumbles something into the microphone attached to his helmet, and one of the Humvees in front of us pulls over to the side of the road.
“Why are they stopping? What are they going to do?” I ask as we speed past.
“Does it matter?” Moloch asks. “Don’t waste your pity on the Children. Whatever my soldiers do to her, I assure you that she and her kind would have done far worse to you.”
A few minutes pass in silence and the Humvee takes a hard right turn into one of the buildings and down a concrete ramp. It pulls to a stop in front of an elevator bank and Moloch, Gorog and I slide out. I look up toward the entrance we drove through, just as a heavily armored gate slams shut. It’s eerily quiet, as though the building has been evacuated by all but the most essential personnel. Our footsteps echo as we walk across the concrete floor to the elevator. Moloch hits the button and the doors slide open. No one speaks as the elevator silently climbs to the penthouse on the ninety-sixth floor. The doors open again and we step out into a stunning apartment that’s surrounded by the sky.
I walk to the windows that look over the ice fields, past a table on which a banquet has been laid out. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. I’m much more interested in the scenery. Now that we’re out of the city’s dark canyons, the sun hasn’t quite disappeared yet. I can see that the towers closest to the ice on this side of Imperium have all sustained considerable damage. Moloch’s building is in the middle of a war zone, and it’s composed almost entirely of glass. I’m not sure we’re any safer up here than we would be down below.
“That is the Children’s work,” I hear Moloch say. I turn back to the table, where every species in Otherworld must be represented. I’m able to identify a heap of buffalo meat, but most of the beasts have been roasted or stuffed beyond recognition. Moloch has taken a seat at the end of the table. Gorog has chosen a chair on the right side of the Elemental, leaving me the one on Moloch’s left. No one else joins us. Aside from two guards standing at the elevator, the three of us are alone in the room.
Gorog immediately grabs a greasy thigh from a platter and begins stripping its flesh off with his teeth. I don’t see the point in eating, and Moloch doesn’t appear much more interested in the food than I do.
“It’s so nice to be able to sit down and talk one-on-one with our guests,” he says. “How long have you been in Otherworld?”
“A few days,” I tell him.
“And what do you think so far?” Moloch inquires.
I feel like I’m being interviewed. I have a hunch he’s looking for a particular answer, but I’m not sure what it is. I must take too long to speak because Moloch decides to answer for me.
“You don’t like it,” he says. “Of course you don’t. It was designed by a madman to cater to perverts and psychopaths. All that will change once Magna is gone.”
“You keep saying Magna. Don’t most people here call him the Creator?”
“Among other things,” Moloch says dryly. “He built this world to indulge his own weaknesses. Right now there’s no reason a normal human bei
ng would want to stay. We’ll fix that in time, of course.”
“Parts of Otherworld might be fun if you had more than one life,” Gorog offers half-heartedly.
Moloch smirks. “Yes, I would imagine the fear of death takes some pleasure out of the experience,” he admits. “But all that will be resolved soon. Everyone knows that killing off your guests isn’t good business. The idea is to offer them the kinds of immersive, one-of-a-kind experiences that will entice them to stay in Otherworld for as long as possible.”
An Elemental who looks and talks like a CEO. Now I really have seen it all. How much does he know? I wonder. And who told him? There’s a loud explosion outside, and the windows are briefly aglow.
Gorog drops his dinner. “What the hell was that?” he says, pushing back his chair and hustling over to a window.
“That would be Children,” Moloch says. “Right on time, as usual.”
“Oh, shit!” Gorog flinches as another explosion rattles the building. Then he looks back at me. “You really need to see this. They’re launching some kind of missiles at us.”
I join him at the window. The top of a nearby tower collapses in flames just as a ball of fire crashes into one of the giant video screens.
Moloch stays seated. The attack doesn’t seem to worry him and he doesn’t bother to look. “Don’t be concerned. They can’t harm us,” he tells us. “Our best engineers have fortified the building. The defenses will hold, and in the morning you’ll be on your way to the ice cave. If you accomplish your mission and kill Magna, we can end this ridiculous war. Without his protection, the Children won’t last long and order can be restored.”
“Do the Children have to be exterminated?” I ask, remembering what Busara told me. The Creator let them live because he knew they were alive.
“Of course!” Moloch exclaims. “They’re a nuisance. Just look what they’ve done to this realm! They’re making it impossible for our guests to enjoy themselves. Magna knows that guests and Children can’t coexist, but he won’t take any action. He’s even let an army of Children take refuge in the ice fields. During the day, they’re impossible to find. At night they scuttle out like vermin to attack Imperium. It’s chaos. But once Magna is gone, the Children will be eliminated and the Beasts will be brought under control. We’ll make Otherworld what it has the potential to be.”