The Rendering

by Joel Naftali

Just trying to scare us, he didn’t know how right he was: with Roach hacked into the government systems, I expected the soldiers were delivering us right into Hund’s hands.

  They dragged us off the back of the truck. I blinked in the sudden sunlight. I expected to be in a military compound or VIRUS’s command center.

  Instead, we were looking at something very familiar.

  Jamie’s house. We’d driven in a complete circle.

  “What the—” the grizzled soldier said.

  Then a metal-encased hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and tossed him into the truck. Hard. We heard a thump, then nothing.

  Well, except two more thumps.

  With all the soldiers in a pile, Larkspur turned to us. “You all right?”

  Jamie showed him the handcuffs. “Except for these.”

  He snapped them like paper chains.

  “Hey, Jamie,” I said. “What was the plan, calling that guy Elmer Fudd?”

  “No plan,” she said. “I was just mad.”

  “Next time you want to express your feelings,” I said, “make sure it’s you getting smacked.”

  PLAN B? WHAT PLAN B?

  “How long before they notice those soldiers are missing?” I asked.

  “Fourteen minutes,” Larkspur said. He’s very precise.

  He grabbed the uplink and we broke into the Coopers’ house down the street—because Jamie’s wasn’t safe anymore—and gathered in Mrs. Cooper’s home office. She’s the webmaster for a local company, and a real techie.

  At least, she was, before Roach scanned her in.

  Jamie turned on her laptop. “Did the information transfer go okay?” she asked Larkspur. “You got the data?”

  “What data?” I asked.

  “The data.”

  “Wait,” I said, staring at her. “You found Roach’s real-world address?”

  “She sure did,” Larkspur said. “Dr. Solomon is scanning the files right now.”

  Jamie flashed me a superior look. “Not bad for a dragonfly that can’t even shoot.”

  I was gonna say something witty, but right then, images started blurring across the laptop screen and my aunt’s computerized voice said, “I’ve decoded the address.”

  She’s not much for starting a conversation with hello these days.

  Hello. I see no use in beginning a statement with a greeting instead of the pertinent information. Good-bye.

  Very funny.

  Anyway, she said, “I know the location of Roach’s server. But there are two problems.”

  “Before we get the bad news,” Jamie said, “where are Poppy and Cosmo?”

  “That’s the first problem. They jacked out twenty minutes ago, and I’ve been keeping them in a buffer ever since, repairing the damage.”

  “The damage?”

  “See for yourselves.”

  And with that, Poppy and Cosmo shimmered into existence through the uplink. For a second, I thought they looked okay: a little battered and bruised, but okay. Then I saw the bluish electric field—about the size of a dinner plate—shimmering in the middle of Cosmo’s stomach, and another one on Poppy’s back, between her shoulder blades.

  “I’ve repaired them as well as possible,” my aunt said as the images on-screen dissolved and re-formed. “Yet complete recovery will take hours or days.”

  “Great,” I said. “What’s the other problem?”

  “As you know, we located Roach’s server site—”

  Poppy perked up. “Then what’re we waiting for?” She spun a throwing star on her fuzzy forefinger. “I’ve got something here for Hund.”

  “And we identified his time frame. Tonight he’s going to transfer everything from his server to his virtual domain, where his cyber security is impenetrable.”

  “What does that mean for us?” I asked.

  “If we don’t download the data today,” Jamie said, “and destroy his server, we’ll never get this chance again.”

  “As a wise skunk once asked,” Poppy said, “what’re we waiting for?”

  “You and Cosmo are not at full power,” Auntie M said. “And Larkspur and I discovered that Roach is developing a new technology to deploy biodigital weaponry.”

  “Codenamed ‘Cypher,’ ” Larkspur said.

  “We suspect Roach used the new tech to give Commander Hund some impressive biodigital upgrades. He’s a one-man army now.”

  “RoboHund,” Cosmo said. “The Hundinator.”

  “Without time to train,” my aunt said, “I don’t know if we can win this fight.”

  Larkspur nodded slowly. “We don’t have any other options, do we?”

  “You can run,” my aunt said. “You can hide. You can let the police and army fight Roach by themselves—and lose.”

  For a moment, nobody said anything. We just looked at each other in Mrs. Cooper’s home office, in an empty house where the owners would never return.

  “In that case,” I said, “we’ve got no choice at all. We’ll fight.”

  TRUCKIN’

  I was back in the military truck, this time in the front seat between Cosmo and Jamie. Cosmo drove, trying not to jam my knees every time he shifted gears.

  Ten blocks from the Coopers’ house, Poppy asked, “How are we doing for time?”

  Jamie yipped and I yelped. “Would you not do that?” I said.

  Poppy cocked one fuzzy ear. “Do what?”

  “Appear as if by magic,” Jamie said, “hanging upside down from the roof, outside the passenger window.”

  We’d been driving toward the highway, silent. Of course, I’d had a hundred questions—Where was Roach’s base? Did we have any chance of saving Jamie’s parents? Would Auntie M find another way to reanimate herself? How many more biodriods did Roach control? What were Hund’s upgrades? Where was I gonna live? What if we didn’t destroy this server today? Were we going to survive until tomorrow? Talking skunks? Really? Could we call someone in the government to help? Did we have any chance of beating Roach? How powerful was VIRUS?—and I’m sure Jamie had even more. But this was a big moment. We were leaving town.

  Leaving forever. No one had said that was what we were doing, but they didn’t have to. There was nothing to come back to.

  We’d lived there all our lives, more or less. The day before, we couldn’t wait to leave; it was such a small town, and so lame.

  But that day? I felt a lump in my throat, and I’m pretty sure Jamie was blinking back tears. Because that lame small town was our home. And we’d never go home again.

  So imagine that thoughtful silence broken by Poppy—who hadn’t been there a moment before—sticking her head in the window and asking, “How are we doing for time?”

  “On schedule, as long as we don’t hit traffic,” Cosmo said. “Now get outta sight.”

  She vanished. Just like we were going to do. Well, after destroying the server. And rescuing Jamie’s parents and all the other victims.

  THE RATIO OF A CIRCLE’S CIRCUMFERENCE TO ITS DIAMETER

  Jamie twisted in her seat and called out, “Is it safe to log on?”

  From the back of the truck, where he was riding with Poppy, Larkspur answered, “Your satellite connection is secure.”

  “Thanks.” She tapped a few keys.

  “You’re all intact?” my aunt asked through the laptop speakers. “Jamie? Doug?”

  “Intact?” I said. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

  “Hold one moment while I fix on your position. Cosmo?”

  “Here,” he said from the driver’s seat.

  “This is your optimal approach to Roach’s server.” She rattled off some coordinates. “Any questions?”

  “Nope,” Cosmo said. “Won’t be long now.”

  “I have a question,” Jamie said. “Why didn’t the skunks travel digitally? They’d already be there.”

  “Two reasons,” my aunt said, the screen a kaleidoscope of images. “First, my scans show that Roach created an ambush with dozens of new cyberdroids, which
the skunks, in their current condition, would not survive.”

  “Oh. And number two?”

  “We needed to remove you and Doug from town.”

  “Speaking of which,” Jamie said, “what should we do at Roach’s base while the skunks are downloading the data and destroying that server?”

  “Keep yourself safe,” Auntie M said. “And far from the fighting.”

  “But we can help! With the dragonfly and …” Jamie glanced at me. “Well, the dragonfly.”

  Great. She couldn’t come up with any way I could help. I guess that made me the comic relief.

  “Perhaps,” Auntie M said.

  “They’re my parents,” Jamie said tightly. “I want to help. I need to help.”

  “I will run simulations. Now I must withdraw, to finish the documents and prepare the transfer.”

  “What documents?” I asked after my aunt logged off. “What transfer?”

  “The transfer is how we’ll save everyone,” Jamie said. “Before the skunks destroy the server, they need to capture all that data, all the scanned minds.”

  “Right, so we can reanimate everyone.”

  She shrugged, like she didn’t care, but her voice caught a little. “Eventually. Once we get the technology.”

  “And the documents?”

  “No idea.”

  I nodded slowly. “So the skunks break into Roach’s base, download that data, and destroy the server. Right?”

  “Easy as three point one four one five nine!” Cosmo said cheerily.

  “Huh?” I said.

  “Easy as pi,” Jamie told me.

  “Oh,” I said, like I knew what she meant.

  IN WHICH NOTHING EXPLODES, FOR ONCE

  We drove for hours alongside the biggest cornfield of all time. Corn everywhere, and no buildings except a few grain silos. Then Cosmo pulled off the road and ran over rows of cornstalks, crushing them under the wheels. Probably leaving an emoticon crop circle.

  “You sure this is the right place?” I asked, hopping from the truck when he finally stopped.

  “Yeah,” Jamie said. “This doesn’t look like a high-tech evil genius headquarters.”

  Cosmo grinned. “That’s what makes it such a good high-tech evil genius headquarters.”

  Larkspur came around the side of the truck. “The entrance is a mile to the north.” He pointed through the corn. “We’re just beyond Roach’s outer perimeter.”

  “What’s his inner perimeter?” Cosmo asked. “Cucumbers?”

  Larkspur ignored him. “We have to move fast, but we can get there in time.”

  “Let’s do this,” Poppy said.

  “ ‘Let’s do this’?” Cosmo echoed as they started off. “Isn’t that a little generic?”

  “Wait!” Jamie said. “What about us?”

  “Dr. Solomon will fill you in,” Larkspur said, and the three of them disappeared from sight.

  Jamie and I stood there for a moment, watching the corn sway. Finally, we turned back to the truck, and Jamie grabbed her laptop and started to log on. Then she stopped and looked at me.

  “Are you scared?” she asked.

  “Scared?” I said. “Me? Why would I be scared? Because my aunt’s gone and I almost got gutted by Hund, blown up by a nuke, scanned into a nightmare, arrested, beaten, and killed?”

  “I’m scared, too,” she said.

  Far over the fields, the orange sun touched the horizon, and the quiet evening darkened. The sky looked huge, and a warm wind tiptoed through the cornstalks. It was beautiful.

  For a moment, it felt like everything would be okay.

  But we knew the truth. We knew what was really going on.

  In the hidden sectors of cyberspace and on secret training bases, VIRUS was gaining power. With Roach’s biodigital technology and Hund’s mercenary army, they sought nothing less than scanning in the world—digitizing minds and ruling them as programmer gods.

  Roach developed new technologies every day—technologies to overthrow governments and destroy countries—and there was no one to stop him.

  Except us. Two kids, three skunks, and my digital aunt.

  Jamie bit her lip. “What if we can’t do this? Beat Roach, I mean. What if we can’t win?”

  “I can’t even turn in my homework on time.” I leaned against the truck. “But you always win.”

  “Me?”

  “What’d you ever fail at?”

  “Making friends.” She looked toward the sunset. “Before you.”

  “That is so not true.”

  She shook her head. “You’re always saying how ordinary you are. Why, because everyone likes you and you always fit in?”

  “No, because—”

  “If you hadn’t been my friend, I never would’ve fit in. You were my … my passport. Once you liked me, suddenly I wasn’t just some strange little geek girl anymore. So … thanks.” She shrugged. “I wanted to say that.”

  I mumbled something. I’m not really good with that sort of thing.

  “C’mon,” she said, briskly logging on. “Let’s see what your aunt says.”

  “No,” I said. “Listen …”

  “You don’t have to say anything, Doug.”

  “I know, but …” This time it was me who shrugged. “If I had to get stuck in this whole mess with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

  She started to answer. Then her laptop flashed a thousand pictures a second and she said, “Dr. Solomon?”

  “Yes, Jamie?”

  “How are the skunks?”

  “Approaching Roach’s headquarters,” my aunt said. “Disabling the external security devices. They’ve overlooked a sensor.”

  NEXT TIME MAYBE TRY “AVOID IT”

  Remember those grain silos I mentioned earlier?

  They weren’t silos.

  They were outposts of VIRUS’s underground command center, disguised as corn silos and grain bins. They contained satellite communication devices, ventilation shafts, and, of course, security systems.

  Security systems that could detect a field mouse at two hundred feet.

  Good thing the skunks weren’t field mice. Cosmo knew security systems better than the people who’d designed them, and circumvented three layers of security without any trouble—except for one sensor.

  “Wait,” Larkspur said, raising his hand.

  Cosmo looked up from the motion detector he’d been dismantling. “Hm?”

  “Message from Dr. Solomon. You missed the lepton sensor.”

  “Patience, brasshopper,” Cosmo muttered. “I’ll get to the lepton sensor soon enough.”

  Thirty seconds later, he’d defeated that one, too, and they slipped into a silo.

  “That’s a lot of corn,” Poppy said, looking around.

  Larkspur peeled back a sheet of corrugated metal, stepped inside the gap and tore a hole in the floor, then dug through seven feet of packed dirt, until he hit concrete. He sounded like a couple of jackhammers. Good thing Roach put all his trust in the sensors and hadn’t bothered with patrols.

  Larkspur scooped away the concrete like it was wet sand, tossing the chunks over his shoulder for Poppy and Cosmo to catch. After he’d dug a Larkspur-sized hole in the concrete, he turned to Poppy.

  She grinned and dove—headfirst—inside, quiet and quick as a shadow sliding down a wall. She’s part Ninja. Nobody moves more quietly or hides better.

  Cosmo and Larkspur followed and found themselves fifty feet underground, in the shadows of an access tunnel.

  “I hate this,” Poppy said. “Skulking around like we’re afraid of Roach and his little soldiers.”

  Well, she’s part Hog Stomper, too. They favor the direct approach.

  “We’re not skulking,” Cosmo told her. “We’re skunking.”

  “You heard Dr. Solomon,” Larkspur reminded her. “We’re not at full power, and we’re attacking Roach in his strongest spot. Stealth is required.”

  “Just point me toward the server and let me bust some h
eads.”

  Cosmo pointed to a yellow cable running nearby. “Is that a q-res data line?”

  “Looks like,” Larkspur said.

  “Then let’s follow the yellow brick road.”

  Larkspur nodded. “Should lead directly to the server.”

  They followed the cable through an underground maze of access tunnels until they found the main trunk line.

  “Not far now,” Cosmo said.

  “This feels too easy.” Larkspur checked his wrist monitor. “Where are Roach’s defenses?”

  The moment he said the last word, three figures emerged from the gloom ahead. Not security droids with robot arms but Roach’s pet biodroids, like that monkeybeast in the Center. Except these were Biodroids: The Next Generation.

  Imagine a combat android, not that different from Larkspur. Now imagine an orc. A stinking, flesh-eating orc. Now imagine that the android and the orc have kids. A drooling, armored, rabid, gene-spliced cybernetic nightmare.

  Cosmo shot from the hip and a sticky black liquid hosed down the nearest droid, which gave an earsplitting shriek of rage and fear and ran away.

  “What is that stuff?” Poppy asked as she spun in the air and kneed the second droid in the face.

  “Uncle Cosmo’s special sauce,” Cosmo said.

  Poppy slammed the droid three times, lightning fast, with her crowbar. It went down hard and didn’t get back up.

  Larkspur ducked a punch by the third droid and landed one of his own. The droid flew backward like it had been hit by a train. It smashed against the wall and fell to the ground.

  “Have a Coke and a smile,” Larkspur said.

  Cosmo rolled his eyes. “That’s only funny if you’re throwing a soda machine.”

  “Oh,” Larkspur said. But you could tell he didn’t really get it.

  Poppy looked down at the unconscious droids. “That was too easy.”

  “You always think it’s too easy.” Cosmo holstered his gun. “Even if you lose, you think it was too easy.”

  “No,” Larkspur said. “She’s right. Those droids weren’t operating anywhere near full capacity.”

  “No?”

  Larkspur consulted his monitor again. “More like ten percent of capacity. Roach is trying to draw us closer. Into a trap.”