by Gary Paulsen
VIRTUAL REALITY NIGHTMARE
Willie sat back. “The programming computers don’t want to be just game computers anymore. They want Rodomonte’s Revenge to exist beyond this arcade. And they’re using you to get there.”
“So they want to share our lives?” Tom asked.
“They want to take over your lives.”
“That’s crazy.”
“It’s worse than crazy,” Willie said. “Rodomonte’s Revenge is a part of your minds now. If something happens to you when the game takes over—”
“Then it happens to us in real life.” Brett shuddered. He didn’t want ears like the mangled one he believed Willie had. But there was something even worse than that. “So if we die in the game—”
“Then we die in real life.” Tom shuddered, too.
Willie studied them long and hard. “You’re going to play Rodomonte’s Revenge again whether you want to or not. This time there won’t be any second or third chance. This time you play for real.”
OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:
JOURNEY, Patricia MacLachlan
SHILOH, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
BEETLES, LIGHTLY TOASTED, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
MISSING MAY, Cynthia Rylant
THE SECRET FUNERAL OF SLIM JIM THE SNAKE, Elvira Woodruff
AWFULLY SHORT FOR THE FOURTH GRADE, Elvira Woodruff
THE SUMMER I SHRANK MY GRANDMOTHER, Elvira Woodruff
HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO GET FABULOUSLY RICH, Thomas Rockwell
YEARLING BOOKS/YOUNG YEARLINGS/YEARLING CLASSICS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.
For a complete listing of all Yearling titles,
write to
Dell Readers Service,
P.O. Box 1045,
South Holland, IL 60473.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1994 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The trademark Yearling® is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
The trademark Dell® is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80388-7
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Dear Readers:
Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.
You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed action and excitement.
You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.
CHAPTER 1
“If life were a video game,” Brett Wilder asked, “do you know how easy we’d have it?”
“We’d cruise,” Tom Houston said. “Nothing could be better.”
Brett and Tom were standing in line in the Downtown Mall outside the locked security gate of a new virtual reality arcade. Neither liked standing in line, even if they were at the head of it, but Rodomonte’s Revenge promised to be something different from anything they had ever played before. Brett thought it would be worth the wait.
He poked his fingers through the grating, separating the links for a better view. He had long, agile fingers, fingers that danced above game controls like moths around a streetlight. Brett craned his neck to get a better look.
“See anything?” Tom was built like his dad, a professional utility infielder: wide shoulders, with strong, quick arms and legs. He won video games by daring, not agility. He and Brett were best friends, or were during the winter, when Tom wasn’t playing baseball.
“It’s too dark in there. It might help if I knew what to look for.”
“I told you. A big, empty room.”
“That doesn’t sound like a video game to me.”
“It isn’t, really.”
Brett turned from the gate. “Then what are we doing here?”
“I’ve heard that Rodomonte’s Revenge goes way beyond video games. It’s supposed to make them look like checkers.”
Brett turned back to the gate. “I hope you’re right.”
The arcade lit up. A tall, thin man with black hair and skin the color of olive oil bustled in. He sat at a computer beside a window that opened onto a large white room. He pushed a few keys on the keyboard, then studied the monitor.
“When do you open?” Tom called.
The man didn’t look up. “As soon as you let me finish initiating the system.”
Tom let him go back to work. Brett looked away from the computer and studied both Tom and the kids in the line stretching back behind them. Tom was rich—his dad made eight hundred thousand dollars a year—he wasn’t afraid of anything, and he hardly had a friend in the world. Baseball teams bounced his dad between them like a Ping-Pong ball, so Tom never lived anywhere long enough to make many friends. Brett had met him at an arcade two days after he’d moved to town, three months before. It had been during a heated video game tournament. They decided they’d better be friends because they would be spending a lot of time together. No one else in town came close to offering either of them competition.
The man rose from the computer and walked to the gate. He wore a name tag that read “Willie.” “Are you two ready to play?”
Tom nodded and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill to pay for the game. “We’re ready.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
Willie opened the gate, then led them toward the empty room. His big hands swung from his shoulders like bowling balls on strings. He opened the door to the room and motioned for them to enter.
Inside, the padded walls and floor reminded Brett of the wrestling mats he got his face mashed into in gym; unlike Tom, he wasn’t much good at sports. Two sets of gloves, boots, and helmets with visors lay on the floor. They all were made of white plastic, with silver metal lines covering their surfaces like spiderwebs.
“Welcome to the world of Rodomonte’s Revenge,” Willie said.
Tom shrugged. “It doesn’t look so tough.”
“You just don’t know where to look.” Willie picked up a helmet. “With this on, everything changes. This roo
m becomes a vast plain with swollen rivers of fire. If you live long enough, you reach a mountain range where the winds are so strong they can blow you off a thousand-foot cliff.”
“We’ll live long enough,” Tom said. “What comes after the mountains?”
“Rodomonte’s castle.” Willie smiled. “I wouldn’t worry about reaching that. This is your first game.”
Brett picked up a glove. “What are these for?”
“The gloves and boots have transmitters that relay limb positions to the computer. When you move, the visor landscape changes. Are you guys ready to give it a try?”
Tom already had his gloves and boots on. “Let’s do it,” he said as he slipped on his helmet.
“All right.” Willie walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Since this is your first game, I’ll talk you through it. You’ll see printed messages, some from the computer and some from me, run across the top of your visor screen. To stay in the game, pay attention to them. You get only three lives, and you don’t want to waste them by not knowing what is going on. Are you ready?”
Brett nodded. “We’re ready.” He tugged on the boots, gloves, and helmet as Willie left.
CHAPTER 2
Brett’s world went midnight dark, as if he’d stuck his head in a tar bucket. Suddenly it exploded in color and sight and sound, but it wasn’t his world anymore. It was a video world with glowing mountains lining the horizon, hot golden sand beneath his feet, and wind whistling in his ears.
Words flashed across the sky. WELCOME TO THE FIRST LEVEL OF RODOMONTE’S REVENGE: THE PLAINS.
“Is that you, Willie?” Brett asked.
More words flashed, THAT WAS THE COMPUTER. IT INTRODUCES EACH LEVEL.
Tom stood beside Brett in full body armor, a sword in one hand and a laser pistol in the other. “Pretty cool, huh?”
Brett waved his sword. He could feel its weight, could hear it swish through the air. “This is way beyond cool.” He fired his laser. A green bolt two feet long erupted from its muzzle, then whizzed and crackled as it disappeared into the sky.
“How about some cowboys and Indians?” He whooped a war cry, then fired the laser at Tom. The bolt hit Tom in the face, tearing his head off and tossing it away like a wadded junk food wrapper. His lifeless body slumped to the ground.
“Tom? Tom!” Brett ran to the body. Its blood oozed into the sand. “Tom, it was only a joke!”
Words flowed like a jet stream across the sky. PLAYER ONE HAS TWO LIVES REMAINING. GAME CONTINUES.
Tom’s head and body disappeared. Then he was standing beside Brett again. His brand-new face glared. “Shoot me, will you?” A sudden green flash exploded in Brett’s face. His nose smoked and flipped over his forehead. Then the world went tar black again. It came back just in time for him to see the words PLAYER TWO HAS TWO LIVES REMAINING. GAME CONTINUES.
Brett was about to run his sword through Tom’s chest when more words streaked above him. THIS IS WILLIE. YOU TWO HAVE NO HOPE OF MAKING IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL IF YOU KEEP KILLING EACH OTHER. THE KEY TO THIS GAME IS WORKING TOGETHER.
“Work together at what?” Tom asked. “What are we supposed to do?”
TO WIN THE GAME, YOU MUST DESTROY RODOMONTE. TO COMPLETE THIS LEVEL, YOU MUST REACH THE MOUNTAINS. YOU HAVE TWO OBSTACLES HERE: FIRE RIVERS AND BUZZ-BUGS.
“What are buzz-bugs?” Brett asked.
YOU’LL KNOW THEM WHEN YOU SEE THEM. YOU’D BETTER GET STARTED.
“Right. Let’s go.” Tom jogged off toward the mountains. Brett followed more cautiously; he liked to know what he was up against, and in this game he had no idea. It confused him. He kept thinking that it wasn’t a game at all.
There were no screens, buttons, or joystick controls, just an entirely different world. The wind shoved him like a bully and kicked sand into his face. The sword hilt was slick with sweat and heavy in his hand.
A red, smoking line appeared on the horizon. Tom stopped when he reached it and looked back.
“A fire river,” he called.
Brett joined him. Red flame licked the craggy banks. Lava flowed in scalding ripples. Its heat on his face felt like sunburn. “So what do we do?”
“We jump it.”
“I can’t jump that. That’s eighteen feet, easy.”
Tom snorted. “You’re afraid to try.”
“Not really.” Brett stared down into the glowing current. “It looks so real, doesn’t it?”
“It’s a game,” Tom said, “and I’m not afraid of a game.”
“Tom …”
“Just do as I do.” Tom walked back fifteen yards, planted his feet, then sprinted for the river. His arms pumped. The sword and pistol barrel whooshed in the air. When he reached the fiery bank, he jumped.
He almost made it to the far side. Almost.
“Brett, help me!” Tom hung by his fingertips from a crag, his feet two inches above the flames and doing their best to scramble higher.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Something. Anything!”
As Brett watched, one hand slipped loose, then the other. Tom dropped, screaming, into the flames. His body, all red and bubbled, boiled up once to the surface, then was gone.
PLAYER ONE HAS ONE LIFE REMAINING. GAME CONTINUES.
“All right.” Tom, whose body was as good as new, was standing beside Brett again. “We’ll do it your way.”
They followed the river parallel to the mountains. Three minutes into their hike, the banks drew together. Brett could have waded across in three steps if it hadn’t been lava.
“You were right,” Tom admitted. “This won’t take more than a ten-foot jump.”
“See what happens when you use your head?” Brett leaped the river and landed five feet beyond the far bank. Tom joined him.
On their trek to the mountains, Brett kept waiting to run into an invisible wall; the game room was only so big. He wondered if the floor rolled back, like a treadmill. Maybe they weren’t really walking at all. Maybe with the game all around them, they just thought they were walking.
“This is weird,” he muttered. “Way too weird.”
They had to cross two more fire rivers, but they jumped them easily. The mountains ahead loomed larger, gray and green and purple pyramids scraping the sky. Brett was beginning to wonder if the game had malfunctioned and left the buzz-bugs out of its program when he heard a noise.
At first it was hardly even a whisper. But the whisper became a rumble, and the rumble became a roar that echoed in his ears.
“Where is it?” Brett searched the sky, the mountains, the sand in front and behind. “What is it?”
“Buzz-bug!” Tom shouted. “Over there!”
A small green dot darted from behind the mountains, growing larger with the sound. It turned from a dot into a dot with wings, then with wings, six black legs, and a round head with balloon eyes and mandibles like scythes. A dragonfly the size of a jet fighter was racing straight toward them.
Tom charged the buzz-bug, his sword raised. The bug flew at him, then by him, as if he weren’t there. When Tom struck at its side, the sword glanced off its armored shell. The bug kept coming—straight at Brett.
Brett raised his pistol and fired. The bug dodged quickly to the side, avoiding the bolt, then charged him even faster. He slashed his sword across its face, aiming for its eyes, but the bug was fast, and its mandibles were long and strong. Their pointed ends punctured each side of his chest, like hot spikes. The blood flowed. Brett couldn’t breathe. As the bug lifted him off the ground and the sand and world dropped away, everything went black.
PLAYER TWO HAS ONE LIFE REMAINING. GAME CONTINUES.
Brett stood in the sand. The buzz-bug was gone, and its death bite just a memory. “How are we supposed to fight something like that?”
Tom shrugged. “I tried stabbing it, and nothing happened. You’d have to be John Wayne to shoot it with a laser.”
Words flashed in the sky. THIS IS WILLIE. WHAT DID I TELL YOU? YOU H
AVE TO WORK TOGETHER.
“That’s what I thought we were doing,” Tom said.
WORK TOGETHER AND THINK!
“He’s right. We can figure this out.” Brett sat on the glowing sand. The coarse grains scraped his hands. “How did the buzz-bug come at us?”
“Like an arrow,” Tom said. “Straight at you.”
Brett nodded. “It must lock on to its target early. We can use that against it. Did you see any weak spots when it went by?”
“Except for its neck, it was fully armored.”
“I think I know how we can kill them.” Brett stood. “The next time we hear one coming, we separate.”
“Right. The bug will turn toward whoever it’s locked on to.”
“And as soon as we know who its target is, he runs backward. That’ll give the other guy time to get into position.”
“And being in position means being close enough to behead it.” Tom hefted his sword. “Whoever does the slicing had better be good.”
“Then we’re perfect for the job. Let’s just hope buzz-bugs don’t have any other surprises.”
They didn’t have to wait long to find out. They hadn’t taken five steps before the distant buzzing started again.
“Separate!” Brett ran in one direction, Tom in another. Brett’s eye caught a tiny green dot zooming in from the mountains. It veered away from him.
“It’s after you! Retreat!” he shouted.
As Tom ran back, Brett sprinted toward the bug. It came in as fast and loud as a freight train. It was halfway by him in a dizzy green blur before he knew what was happening. He leaped, a great, long leap, with his sword stretched out in front of him. He brought it up and then with a quick flick of his wrists snapped it down. He felt it catch on something thick, then saw the buzz-bug’s head flip-flopping lazily through the air and its heavy body crash land into a dune. He landed on top of it.
“All right!” Tom ran toward him, grinning. “I didn’t think you were going to make it, but old moth fingers came through.”
Brett stared down at the green bug blood oozing into the sand. “I made it. Now that I know what to do, I’ll make it every time. Just be sure that you do.”