by Jason Segel
“And what’s that?” I ask.
“A better reality—a place everyone wants to stay,” says Moloch. “The deviant guests can still have their own realms, of course, but Otherworld will be a playground for everyone else as well.”
Just like the man sitting across from me, the solution seems a little too neat. The guests will get their paradise, but first all the Children have to die.
I see Gorog’s face scrunch up as if nothing he’s heard makes any sense. “If everyone wants to be in Otherworld all the time, what’s going to happen to the real world?” he asks.
Moloch dismisses the question with a laugh. “I imagine it will continue to revolve around the sun.”
“Seriously, though,” I say. “How much do you know about the real world?” I’m genuinely curious.
“I know it’s a place of misery for most,” he tells me. “Otherworld will offer humankind a chance to escape.”
“You just put on a visor and leave it all behind,” I say.
“Precisely,” he replies, sounding pleased.
“Except you have to abandon your body. You know about our bodies, right?”
Moloch shrugs. “There will be solutions to such problems.”
“Like what, exactly?” I ask. His flippant attitude is pissing me off. “Right now Gorog’s body is crammed into a capsule. Mine is in an abandoned building waiting for a raccoon to eat it. Those don’t sound like very good solutions to me.”
“If there’s a demand for storage, someone will find a way to supply it.”
“You sound like a capitalist,” I say. “Were you programmed that way?”
“I’m a realist,” our host tells me. And judging by his tone, he has nothing else to say. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to some business. One of the servants will be along shortly to show you to your rooms.”
—
If I didn’t know any better, I would swear that I’m in the most sumptuous bed ever constructed. I remind myself that my body is lying exposed on the wooden floor of a crumbling factory. But I don’t quite believe it.
The moonlight streams in through the glass walls. In the city below, the siege has stopped. The Children are finally quiet and the realm is at peace. My eyes close, but I won’t be sleeping tonight. In the morning, I will see Kat and possibly do battle with Milo Yolkin’s avatar. I have to prepare myself for the fact there’s a good chance I’m going to die. I don’t really care anymore—as long as I can find a way to save Kat.
A breeze tickles my face. I detect movement through my eyelids, as if a shadow has passed through the moonlight. I open my eyes and see that someone is standing over me. It’s the young girl from the burned-out building. For some reason, I’m not frightened at all. I’m happy to see she escaped from the soldiers. Moloch said most of the Children belong to the Creator. If that’s true, I wonder who her other parent might be. The moon, maybe. I suppose anything’s possible in Otherworld. The girl’s body is thin and fragile and her silver hair shimmers. I can’t tell if she’s made of flesh or light. She looks scared and nervous. She raises a finger to her lips and then gestures to me to follow her. I don’t know why, but I do.
A ragged rectangle has been cut out of the glass wall of my room. Outside in the cold night air, a wooden platform is waiting, supported by ropes that must be attached to the arm of the giant crane on the top of the building. It wasn’t there earlier when I took in the view. The girl steps onto the platform, and I climb out after her, though it’s terrifyingly narrow and swaying from side to side. I hold on to one of the ropes and try not to look down. The girl’s hair floats on the wind as the crane begins to lift us into the sky.
The platform comes to a stop at one of the unfinished floors near the top of the building. There’s an elevator bank in the center of the floor, but beams remain exposed and the windows haven’t been installed yet. The girl points to a steel cage near the elevator. It appears to be empty, and I’m about to ask what I’m supposed to be looking at when something inside the steel bars begins to shift and move like a pool of mercury. It takes me a moment to realize what’s going on. There’s someone in a camouflage bodysuit lying inside the cage. It has to be Kat. She’s not waiting for me at the ice cave. Moloch has taken her prisoner.
I’ve opened my mouth to call out to Kat when I hear a whistle followed by a dull thump. It’s the most horrible sound I’ve ever heard because I know exactly what it means. I glance over in time to see the Child crumple, an arrow lodged deep in her chest.
I grab her hand as she starts to fall from the platform. Her grip is firm and her flesh is warm. She’s alive, but I can feel the life inside her draining away. Her grip loosens, and as she lets go, her fingers slip through mine. I thank God I can’t hear her body break when it hits the ground below.
I turn in the direction the arrow came from. Moloch appears from behind one of the building’s exposed beams, a crossbow in his hands.
“It’s time to go back downstairs,” he tells me.
I step off the platform and into the building. “You killed her.”
“Her?” he scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. That wasn’t a her. It was a bug. Just a batch of bad code.”
But she wasn’t. I would swear the girl was every bit as real as I am. She risked her life to take me to Kat. She died helping someone she’d never met. How could anything get more real than that?
I’m still in shock as Moloch ushers me across the unfinished floor and onto the elevator. The descent takes less than two seconds, and the doors open on the ninety-sixth floor, revealing blood-soaked tiles and piles of dead NPCs. Before I can make any sense of the scene, two burly tattooed arms pluck Moloch out of the elevator. His crossbow drops to the ground as Gorog takes the avatar’s head in his hand. I hear the crunch of Moloch’s neck snapping and the thud when he falls.
“Hi, Simon,” Gorog says, his smile big and wide.
Then there’s a strange flash. I glance down to see Moloch’s neck straighten. When he rises to his feet, he doesn’t appear to feel any pain. I should have known. He’s not an Elemental. He’s not part of the game. Someone in the real world is controlling him. A headset player.
It’s still sinking in when a dozen NPC soldiers rush into the room behind the ogre.
“Gorog!” I shout, but it’s too late. They’ve surrounded him now, but he doesn’t struggle to break free. He doesn’t even appear to be frightened.
“You’ve got this, Simon,” he tells me. “Remember, you’re the One.”
“Get rid of the goddamn ogre,” Moloch orders his men.
“No!” I shout. “No, don’t! Gorog!”
There’s no answer. The tip of a spear emerges from between two of the ogre’s ribs. Gorog’s body drops. The deed has been done.
I open my eyes. I’m in the back of a patient transport van. My visor and disk have been removed and my chest and legs are strapped down. My hands are bound together with a zip tie that’s slicing into my wrists. No one’s riding with me. I stare at the ceiling, my teeth clenched in rage. When I find the person responsible for Gorog’s death I will rip him limb from limb.
I feel the van backing up. Then the engine shuts off. The doors open and the driver rolls my gurney out. We’re in one of the facility’s loading docks.
“You can go. I’ll take him from here,” someone tells the driver. A face appears above me. It’s Martin.
“Hey there,” he says. “Sorry for all the drama back in Otherworld. We had to keep you busy while we looked for your body. By the way, it was genius to hide it right out in the open. None of us ever considered the factory.”
I’m a moron. My little outburst at Moloch’s dinner party told them right where to find me.
“You’re Moloch?” I ask.
“Sometimes,” he says. “Last night it was Todd. And when we’re not in Otherworld an NPC fills in for us. We’ve got to keep the place functioning while the test is running.”
“You killed Gorog,” I snarl.
“Y
eah,” Martin admits as he wheels me into the building and down the long hall. “It wasn’t part of the plan, but then he went and tried to break Todd in half.”
“Todd was wearing a headset!” I shout. “He couldn’t die! Gorog was wearing a disk. He knew that and he killed him anyway!”
“You’re right—ordering the ogre’s death was a mistake,” Martin concedes. “But in Todd’s defense, you get so used to dealing with the Children that the words just pop out. Still, there is some good news! The ogre bit the dust, but it turns out the kid didn’t die. It’s a very exciting day here at the facility. We’ve taken a giant step forward with the disk—and your friend helped us make it.”
My relief is mixed with a hundred other emotions, the strongest of which is terror. “Are you going to cut him up?”
“What?” Martin blurts out. He looks thoroughly revolted. “Why would we do that?”
“To examine his brain. I’ve been in your lab, you know. I’ve seen what you do to people.”
“Sure, to dead people,” Martin corrects me. “We don’t chop up the living. Do you think we’re monsters? We’ll just run lots of CAT scans.”
“Hello, Martin,” a familiar voice interrupts.
“Hey, Angela,” Martin replies. “I’ve got a delivery for the boss.”
“Wonderful,” the robot says. “According to his GPS, he’s on his way back to the facility right now. Estimated arrival time is seventeen minutes.”
Oh, good. Milo is coming. I can’t wait to see him.
“Thanks, Angie,” says Martin. “Now how about opening door number two for me?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Her flirty voice seems to imply that the pleasure will be physical. Someone must have thought it would be real funny to have a sexed-up robot secretary. I’ve met her twice now and the act is already old.
Martin and I ride the elevator down to the maze of capsules where the bodies are kept. Martin whistles as he rolls me toward a room along the perimeter.
“We-he-hell,” someone calls out. “If it isn’t the savior of Otherworld. The One.” It’s Todd.
Martin sighs. “Come on, don’t be an asshole,” he says. He undoes the straps that bind me to the gurney and helps me sit up. We’re in an office that would appear perfectly ordinary if not for the computer screen displaying what must be a video feed from Moloch’s tower. There appears to be something happening on the ice fields outside Imperium.
“You’re both assholes,” I inform them just as Martin grabs an X-Acto blade from a desktop and bends forward to remove the zip tie from my wrists.
“Maybe you should keep his hands bound,” Todd says. “The little bastard seems pretty agitated.”
“Yeah. Good thinking.” Martin stands up and takes a cautious step back.
Once he’s sure I’m no threat to him, Todd sits on a nearby desk. “So we’re assholes, are we?” I’d love to punch the smug look off his face. “In a few years, you can tell that to the Nobel Prize committee. By the way, I hear Watson and Crick were assholes too.”
“Watson and Crick never killed anyone,” I say.
“That you know about,” Todd says. “Watson seems like the kind of guy who probably experimented on a hobo or two, don’t you think?” When he looks over at Martin, he seems to be expecting a laugh.
“Oh, shut up,” Martin snaps instead. “We’re not the bad guys,” he tells me. I get the sense that he really wants to believe it.
“You’re tricking people into using stolen technology that you know can be deadly,” I point out. “If you’re not the bad guys, who the hell are?”
“Whoa there, dickhead. You think we stole the tech?” It’s Todd talking now, and he’s completely offended. “We were part of the team that developed it! We sank three years of our lives into the disk.”
“And the technology won’t be dangerous for much longer,” Martin is quick to add. “We’re analyzing what happened to the kid with the ogre avatar. If we can figure out how he survived, we might be able to fix the disk.”
“It’s too late. People have already died. A lady with four children died.”
Martin looks stricken, and unless he’s the world’s greatest actor, he’s completely sincere. “You’re talking about Carole Elliot. It’s tragic, I know. But Carole didn’t die in vain. Besides, after the car accident, her body was beyond repair. She wasn’t walking out of this facility either way. Look—a handful of people have been lost, but thanks to them, humankind is on the verge of taking a giant step forward.” There must be a vat of Kool-Aid hidden somewhere in the building. When I get a chance, I’ll hunt it down and drown Martin in it.
“They didn’t die, you psychopath,” I say. “They were sacrificed. Can’t you tell the difference?”
“You know what?” Todd growls. “I’m getting real sick of this sanctimonious crap. We took people who would have spent their entire lives as drooling vegetables, and we gave them the opportunity to be true pioneers.”
“Their sacrifices will make life better for the entire human race,” Martin quickly adds.
I’m dumbfounded. “People’s lives are going to be better because of Otherworld?” I ask. “Are you joking?”
“Otherworld? You think that’s what all this is about?” Martin laughs like he’s discovered the source of my confusion and can finally set the record straight. “We needed software for the disk’s beta test, and Otherworld just happened to be available. But Otherworld is only the beginning. Do you have any idea what our technology will do? It’s going to educate people around the globe. Someday soon, a kid in rural India is going to slap on a disk and attend classes taught by Harvard professors.”
“You think Harvard’s going to let little Indian urchins take their classes for free?” Todd mutters under his breath.
“Whatever.” Martin rolls his eyes as if they’ve had the same exchange a million times. “Then think about all the elderly people cooped up in nursing homes. With a disk they can spend their final years touring the world or…”
“Or having sex with hot young things,” Todd finishes.
“Goddamn it, are you going to let me talk?” Martin nearly shouts. The two of them act like an old, homicidal married couple.
“Do you see what I’m saying? The disk is going to level the playing field for people around the world. Everyone will have access to education and companionship and sex. You’ll be able to travel the entire globe without spending a penny on airfare. You won’t need to be born rich or beautiful or lucky. All you’ll need is a disk.”
I want to ask Martin how many people he’s willing to kill to save the world, but I can’t stand to hear another lecture. “Where’s Milo?” I ask. “I want to talk to him.”
“Milo?” Martin asks, as though he doesn’t quite recognize the name.
“Yeah, your boss. Wasn’t he supposed to be here in seventeen minutes?”
Todd laughs. “Milo’s already here, bro.”
“Where is he? Go get him.”
Martin looks nervous. “Come on,” he says, taking one of my elbows and helping me slide off the gurney. “Why don’t I show you around before the boss comes to see you?”
“Thanks,” I say. “But like I told you, I’ve been here before.”
“Yeah, we know,” Todd sneers. “Lotta people got fired because of you.”
I think of Don and Nathaniel and the nurse who helped me escape, and I suddenly want to vomit. I probably got them all killed. God knows how many people Martin and Todd have murdered, but I’ve got a body count of my own.
“Fired?” I ask. “So you think they’re all working at Costco now?”
“What exactly are you implying?” Todd barks.
“Hey,” Martin says in his most soothing voice. He’s smiling at me like I’m a mental patient. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing happened to them. They just don’t work here anymore.”
You know, I actually think he really believes all this shit. I think he’s managed to convince himself that there’s nothing evil
about the operation he works for. They’re just a bunch of scientists using vegetables to save the world.
“Tell you what,” Martin says. “Why don’t I take you to visit your friends? You can see for yourself they’re okay. We’ve been taking very good care of them.”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing Kat. Martin’s offer is one I would never refuse. So with my hands pinned together like a convict on his way to court, I follow Martin out of the office and into a nearby room. There’s a hospital bed at the far end, but Kat’s not in it. Lying on top is a young black kid. There are tubes sprouting out of him and machines monitoring his vitals. But there’s no visor on his face. I’m not sure why I’m here, until—
“That’s Gorog,” I say.
“Who?” Martin asks. “Oh, right, that was the name he gave his avatar. His real name is Declan. He was riding his bike to school one morning and got hit by a car. The cost of his hospital care was about to bankrupt his family, so the Company stepped in to help.”
“He told me he was fourteen years old.” There is no way the tiny boy on the bed is fourteen.
Martin clears his throat. “I believe he’s thirteen,” he says.
“You bastards are experimenting on thirteen-year-olds?”
“I’m sorry, I thought you’d be pleased to see him,” Martin says irritably. “He’s in stable condition. We’re monitoring his progress very carefully. He’s out of Otherworld for good now—and he’ll be well protected. He’s the secret to fixing the disk.”
I run my fingertip along the zip tie that’s holding my hands together. If I could only find a way to snap it, I would kill Martin right now.
“Would you like to see Katherine?” he asks.
“Yes,” I manage to croak.