Our number-one priority was to get to someplace safe. There weren’t a lot of choices. Running back into Rubic City was like running into a nest of spiders. Still, we had to chance it. Neither of us was quick to move. That changed when another cannon was fired from one of the gunboats and the ground exploded a few yards from us. Yes, someone had spotted us. It was time to be somewhere else. Without a word Siry and I dodged the mounds of debris and headed back toward the buildings of Rubic City.
Boom! Another pile of dirt blew up to my right, sending a shower of dust and cement bits down on us. I was blinded for a second, but didn’t stop running. We were too close to those guns. I kept going while rubbing my eyes and boom! The ground erupted behind us. Siry went flying forward and fell on his knees. I scooped him up as I ran. We finally got back to the first block of buildings, just as a cannon shell blew out a wall right next to us. I felt the sharp sting of cement shrapnel on my back, but I was okay. We had made it to safety. Safety? Did I actually write that? We may have been of the gunboats, but we were back in the land of Flighters. Frying pan? Fire? You tell me.
“They saw where we entered the city,” I said, breathless. “We’ve got to get as far away from here as possible.”
When we reached the first intersection, we turned right and moved away from the line we had been traveling. I had no idea if this would throw anybody off the scent or not, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I wanted to find a place where we could rest and collect our thoughts. We had been doing nothing but react. We had to come up with some kind of a plan. We traveled quickly down a side street, looking for a likely hiding place.
“There!” Siry shouted, pointing.
The door was below ground level. I figured it led into a basement shop. It looked like as good a place to hide as any. I nodded and we ran for it. When we opened the door, we were met by an eerie sound. There was an old-fashioned bell hanging over the door that jingled when the door brushed it. It was supposed to be a pleasant signal to a shop owner that a customer had arrived. Under the circumstances there was nothing pleasant about it.
The store had long counters and display cases, all empty of course. It looked like it might have been a small grocery store. I say that because there were several yellowed signs hanging around that advertised various kinds of gloid. Yeah, gloid. I thought I’d never hear about that stuff again. That was the Jell-O-like food gunk that supposedly had all sorts of nutrition. It was the main food eaten by the people of Veelox. Veelox. My mind was having trouble getting around the concept. Small clues like gloid kept telling me to get over it. I was on Veelox. The big question was, why was Saint Dane here?
We moved through the store into a small back room. There was a door on the far side that opened onto a courtyard. It seemed about as safe a place as we could hope for. If Flighters came in the front way, we could jam out the back. If they came through the back, we could run out the front. If they surrounded us, well, there was no sense in worrying about things we couldn’t control. I wanted to catch my breath and my thoughts. I sat on the ground, looking up at the tall buildings that surrounded us. Were Flighters behind any of those windows, watching us? Siry sat in the doorway, his head down. Gone was the cocky, charismatic rebel who wouldn’t accept a life of lies. The guy sitting there looked beaten.
“They’re gone,” he said flatly. “Every one of my friends is dead.”
I wasn’t so sure he was wrong, but I didn’t want to make him feel any worse. “We don’t know that,” I said, trying to be positive. “The others may have escaped. And Twig may be a prisoner.”
“It was a death ship,” Siry said. He was sounding more numb than upset. “I asked them to make sure nobody would board. I know that’s what they did. Until the end.”
“The Jakills are loyal, not dumb. Once the attack started, I’m sure they abandoned ship. Some of them must have.”
“It’s my fault,” he whimpered. “They’re dead because of me. And for what?”
“They chose to be here,” I insisted. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need you.”
“It’s over, Pendragon,” he said, defeated.
We were at a crossroads. I was losing Siry. The guilt over the loss of his friends looked like it might crush him.
“I know you don’t buy into the fight against Saint Dane,” I said. “I don’t blame you. It took me a long time too. But there’s something I believe, and I want you to believe it too. No, I need you to believe it. I don’t know how many of the Jakills died today. Maybe all of them, maybe not. Their deaths were not wasted.”
“How can you say that?” he snapped.
“Because you went looking for the truth and found it. Siry, the quest you all began may have saved Veelox from disaster.”
Siry didn’t know how to react.
“You were right,” I continued. “There is more going on here than you were told by the tribunal. I know that for sure now. I know what they’ve been keeping from you. At least some of it.”
He looked at me with total confusion.
“I’ve been to Veelox before, Siry. I think it was a long time ago. Maybe generations.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know myself. Some territories are on the same world, but at different times. There are three territories where I come from. What makes a territory a territory isn’t just a location. It’s about turning points. Saint Dane found ten turning points of Halla. He found moments in history where an event will happen that will determine a territory’s future. If events play out the way they should, the territory will continue in peace, the way it was meant to be. Saint Dane has been trying to influence these turning points to go the wrong way and plunge each world into chaos. That’s what he wants, Siry. He wants the territories of Halla to crumble, so he can remold them his own way. We’ve fought over seven territories and lost two. One is Quillan, where your father died. The other is Veelox.”
Siry scowled and shook his head. “You were here before, in the past, fought Saint Dane, and lost?” “Exactly.”
“Then if Veelox crumbled, why are we still around?”
“I don’t know. The island of Ibara looks like it escaped whatever fate Saint Dane’s victory brought to Veelox. Look at this city. The destruction. I think this is what most of Veelox has become. This is the truth that was kept from the people of Ibara.”
Siry walked to one of the walls and put his hand against it. The plaster material crumbled. The symbolism wasn’t lost on either of us. Veelox had crumbled.
“Let’s pretend I believe you,” Siry said cautiously. “That means Ibara will fall too. They can’t keep the Flighters away forever. If Veelox is truly lost, what’s the point?”
“The point is this is a territory,” I said. “Remudi was the Traveler. Now you are the Traveler.”
He scoffed. I didn’t react.
“Each territory has a turning point,” I continued. “If I was sent here, that means there is a turning point. Here. It means we might have another chance to save Veelox. You think the Jakills died for nothing? I say they gave us another chance to save this world. If we don’t try, if you don’t try, their lives were truly wasted.”
Siry wanted to believe. I saw it in his eyes. But it was a little too much for him to swallow. Okay, maybe a lot too much. I had to convince him. It seemed impossible… until I remembered something we had seen earlier.
“I can show you proof that what I’m saying is true. That’s what you wanted from the start, right? The truth? If you want to learn the whole truth about Veelox, you’ve got to come with me.”
“Where?”
“Have you ever seen a pyramid?” I asked.
Minutes later we were carefully making our way deeper into the city. I knew exactly where to go. When I’d seen it earlier, it hadn’t registered. Now I knew. It was the black wall. It had given me an uneasy feeling and now I knew why. Siry and I jogged quickly toward it. We
reached the end of one block and stopped, ready to turn the corner.
“If we’re going to guide the future of Veelox,” I said, “we first have to unravel its past.”
We turned the corner. Siry gasped. I would have too, except I knew what to expect. It still gave me a shiver. It was a giant black pyramid. It stood out in its surroundings not only because of its size, but because it didn’t look anything like the architecture of the rest of the city. Not even close. I knew there were many more like it all over the territory. These dark monoliths were the cause of the Travelers’ loss on Veelox. The incredible technology they contained sent the territory on a path of ruin. No, that’s not right. It wasn’t the fault of the technology. It was the fault of the people who became slaves to it.
Lifelight.
“What is it?” was all Siry could say.
How was I going to explain this incredible virtual-reality generator to a guy who grew up in a grass hut?
“You should see inside first.” I figured it would be easier to explain if he saw it for himself.
The pyramid was so huge that Siry and I had to jog several more blocks before we got to it. I remembered the pyramids having shiny black skins. But that was long ago. Time had done a job on them. The many places, revealing the framework. The shine was long gone, probably from being exposed to the elements. But for how long? When had I been there before? Decades ago? Centuries? Back then, Rubic City had already begun to decay. The city had been technically still alive, with running water and electricity, but the people had already turned their backs on their homes by leaving reality and entering the fantasy world of Lifelight.
This was the very same Lifelight pyramid I had entered on my first trip to Rubic City. By my own clock that had been only a few years earlier. My memory was still pretty fresh. The base of the pyramid was trashed with the fallen remains of civilization. Mounds of debris were piled several feet up the sides of the structure. Luckily, the revolving-door entrance was clear. It was one of the few bits of good luck we had that day. It was a regular-size revolving door, but it looked like a speck at the base of this massive structure. I gave the door a shove. It didn’t budge. Siry joined me, and we both put our shoulders to the door while pushing with our legs. Slowly, painfully, the door let out a screech as the metal gave way. It didn’t swing smoothly, but we were able to move it far enough to squeeze ourselves inside.
We were faced with a long corridor. It was the sterilization corridor where long purple lights had killed any microbes that might have hitchhiked their way in on people. The purple lights were now dark, which meant the corridor was too. I couldn’t see more than a few feet into the pyramid before daylight gave way to a big, black nothing.
“What do we do?” Siry asked.
“There’s another room on the far end of the corridor. Hopefully, there’s light in there.”
I took his hand. The corridor was narrow enough that. while holding hands, we could reach the side wall with our free hand. We each kept one hand on the wall while moving slowly forward, shuffling our feet in case something was blocking our way. The corridor was dead black. Something could have been two inches from my nose, and I wouldn’t have known it until I walked into it. We had gone only about ten yards when I kicked something. It felt kind of like a pile of hard sticks.
“Kick them aside,” I instructed.
Whatever they were, the sticks swept away easily, and we continued on. As we got closer to the end of the corridor, I could make out the doorway on the far end. Light was coming in from somewhere. We were able to move a little quicker and made it into the large ready room of Lifelight. Daylight was seeping in through holes that had been eaten out of the pyramid wall. It wasn’t bright, but we could maneuver. The room was as I remembered it. This is where Lifelight jumpers checked in for their jumps. Behind the reception counter I saw something that made me smile. It was a faded oil portrait of a sixteen-year-old guy.
“Who’s that?” Siry asked.
“Dr. Zetlin,” I answered. “The guy who invented all this.” “What exactly is this?”
“I’ll show you some things first. It’ll be easier to explain then.”
Beyond the reception area was a door that I knew would lead to the core-the central control area of the pyramid. The door was halfway open. It was easy to push it the rest of the way. I saw the familiar long corridor with glass walls. Most of the glass was still intact, though several large sections were shattered. Or missing. On either side of the corridor, behind the glass, were the control stations where the phaders worked to monitor the Lifelight jumps. The sight brought back a lot of memories. Not all of them were good.
There was barely enough light to see. We passed a few of the stations and the hundreds of screens that the phaders used to watch the various Lifelight jumps. The screens were dark of course. I wondered how long it had been since the last person had jumped. Siry stared at the technology in wide-eyed wonder. We took a few more steps, then something caught my eye. Ahead of us in one of the control stations, the quality of light was different. Up until then we had been relying on whatever sunlight leaked through the damaged pyramid. The light up ahead seemed warmer. We entered the control station. It looked exactly like the others. Dark, dead, dusty. Except for one thing.
“What is that?” Siry asked.
The control chair was empty. As I remembered, the control panel for each workstation was in the arms of the chair. There was nothing unusual about this one, except that a light was glowing. One single light. It was a small, orange circle that surrounded a silver button. It didn’t give off all that much light, but it was enough to create the warm glow that had gotten our attention.
“If that’s glowing, there’s power,” I declared. “Maybe we can figure out how to turn on a couple of lights.”
The Lifelight control station was complicated. I could have been flipping switches for a month without finding the light switch. Still, I had to try. I figured the best place to start would be with the button that was glowing. Made sense, right? I leaned over the chair and touched the glowing circle.
A single monitor in front of us flashed white.
“Wha-” Siry shouted in surprise and jumped back. This was a guy who’d never seen a TV.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s supposed to do that.”
We had power. My first thought was that I could now explain to Siry about Lifelight and Dr. Zetlin and the Reality Bug. I figured that seeing the hardware would make it easier to accept. Or at least understand. Or at least not think I was a total nutburger who dreamed the whole thing up. The screen flickered and fuzzed. I figured if I could turn enough of them on, we’d have light to get around.
I never got the chance.
The screen flashed white, followed by a swirl of colors that formed themselves into an image. The sight actually made me go weak. I had to sit in the phader’s control chair or I would have fallen over.
“What’s the matter?” Siry asked. “Who is that?”
I couldn’t talk, but it didn’t matter. The image on-screen was about to say enough for both of us. Just like old times. The screen showed a close-up of a girl I knew very well. She had long blond hair tied back in a tight ponytail, deep blue eyes, and yellow-tinted wire-rimmed glasses. She had on the same dark blue jumpsuit of a phader that she was wearing the last time I saw her. She stared right at us with the same intelligent intensity I remembered so well.
“My name is Aja Killian,” she said sharply and precisely. That was Aja. No nonsense about her. “I am the chief phader here in the principal Lifelight pyramid in Rubic City. I am also the Traveler from the territory of Veelox. This is my Journal Number Twelve. It may be the last journal I will get the chance to make. I hope someone, someday, will hear it.”
That day had come.
VEELOX
“Hello. Whoever you are. If you’re watching this, I’m hoping you already know of the desperate situation we face on Veelox. The virtual reality simulator called Lifelight has pro
ved to be far more tempting a pastime than its inventor, Dr. Zetlin, ever anticipated. People come to these pyramids, slip into their Lifelight jump tubes, enter their own personal fantasies, and choose never to come out. The imaginary worlds that Lifelight creates are too real and too perfect for them to want to leave. It’s why I invented the Reality Bug. I tried to make the fantasies less appealing. It failed. My friends Bobby Pendragon and Loor helped avoid a major disaster by destroying the failed bug and saving thousands of lives. It only prolonged the inevitable. Veelox has since died a slow, agonizing death. I’m not sure which would have been worse.
“First to fail was the infrastructure of our cities. Drinking water became scarce because there was nobody to service the pumping and filtration facilities. Roads crumbled. The sewage system wasn’t far behind. As pipes burst, raw sewage fought with garbage to claim the streets. The cities slowly went dark as dwindling power supplies were diverted to keep the Lifelight pyramids functioning. Fresh food was unheard of Our main sustenance, gloid, became a valuable commodity. Vast stockpiles were used to feed the millions of people during their jumps, but the manufacturing of gloid ended. There was nobody to do it. Everyone assumed there would always be someone else to take care of business. There wasn’t. Everyone was in Lifelight. “Most everyone.
“I’m proud to say that many phaders and vedders worked tirelessly to keep Lifelight functioning and the jumpers safe. The hope among all of us was that someday, somehow, enough people would come to their senses and abandon Lifelight. At first we imagined enough people would rejoin reality so that we could revive our world. But time is merciless. The cities decayed beyond repair. Hope then became that enough people would eventually abandon Lifelight so that we could begin anew and create a new society. That day never came. It all happened so impossibly fast. I never appreciated how much effort it takes to keep society functioning, and how quickly it can all come crashing down.
“The inevitable finally happened. The jumpers in Lifelight began to die off. First it was the elderly, then those who already suffered from some sickness. All over the territory, the jump screens went dark. We stopped removing the bodies from the tubes. There weren’t enough of us to bury the dead. The Lifelight pyramids became tombs. The deaths actually prolonged the decline. Fewer jumpers meant less energy use, but it was only a matter of time. We soon reached the point of no return.
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