by Tracy Deebs
“Two boys I go to high school with. You just took them away.”
“You’re telling me they designed Pandora’s Box?”
“No! Of course not. They just helped me …” I shut up, afraid of making it worse for Theo and Eli.
Lessing looks like she’s going to press the point, but something changes her mind, because she looks toward the ethanol plant. That it’s on fire is evident, even from this distance.
“Tell me about what happened over there.”
“The storm swept through, damaged the tanks, caused a leak. Then lightning ignited the fuel, and the whole place blew up.”
“What were you doing there?”
I shrug. “I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you.”
“Pandora, in five days the world as we know it will cease to exist, which is something I never thought I’d see in my lifetime. So, if you want to tell me something far-fetched, now is the time to do it.” She holds out her arms, inviting me to trust her. But I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if the truth will make things better or worse for me. And, more important, for Theo and Eli.
When I don’t immediately say anything, the momentary softness fades from her demeanor. “Okay, then, tell me about your father.”
“I barely know him.”
“If that’s true, why are you the one running around out here, fleeing federal custody? Nearly getting blown up.”
I don’t know how much to say. If I admit that I know my father is responsible, will that make me look more or less guilty? I need to figure out how to play this, how to make her understand. Quickly, because if I don’t find out what the next clue is, no one will.
Closing my eyes, hoping that I’m doing the right thing, I finally say, “My father sent me a birthday e-mail. The worm was a link. I uploaded it without knowing it.”
“Twelve times?”
“Yeah. It was attached to pictures of the two of us. I clicked on them and … you know the rest.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this when I was at your house? Why did you run?”
“Agent Mackaray was threatening to throw me in a deep, dark hole. What would you have done?”
“Trusted the other officers there not to let that happen,” she says, brows arched.
“I didn’t have the luxury of trusting you.”
“Yes, well, now I don’t have the luxury of trusting you.”
I have nothing to say to that, and for a long time, neither does she.
I’m just beginning to think the impasse between us is going to last forever when she says, “Give me something, Pandora. Something you can prove. Where have you been the last five days. What have you been doing?”
“You mean you really don’t know? How did you find me here if …” I break off when I realize she hasn’t traced me here. Her running into us was just more bad luck on our part. Like Mackaray in New Mexico, she was just covering the places my father was known to support. “Pure dumb luck, huh?” I tell her.
“There’s a little more to it than that. The gentlemen you asked directions from were worried. They reported three teenagers alone at the ethanol plant. We did the math, and here you are.”
That she shares something impresses me, and I tell her, “I’ve been playing the game. It’s the only way to save the world.”
“Are we back to that? We’ve had gamers around the world working on Pandora’s Box since the worm uploaded, even had some make contact and try to assist you, and nothing’s happened.”
I think about CarlyMoon and her offer of help. It seems I’d been right to be suspicious. The thought depresses me more. Finally, determined to stay focused on the issue at hand, I ask, “Are they using the AR gates?” She looks startled. “Because if they’re not, then they aren’t going anywhere. That’s the key to the game. Drive evil out of the world with the techniques of the future. You have to complete the tasks if you want to level up.”
“We’ve been leveling up. I’ve seen your father’s rabid environmental agenda.”
“His agenda actually makes sense, if you think about it.” Am I seriously sitting here defending him? After everything that’s happened? After everything he’s done? “It’s the way he’s gone about it that’s all wrong.”
“He’s set us back a hundred years, Pandora. Where’s the money going to come from to fix everything he’s broken?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t fix it. Maybe we should make new stuff. Better stuff.”
“And who’s going to pay for that?”
I don’t answer. I can’t and she knows it. She presses her advantage. “This whole game is nothing but a pipe dream, Pandora. One that’s going to become a nightmare very soon.”
“It already is. Do you really think Theo, Eli, and I are having fun doing this? We’re playing because we’re the only ones who really have a chance of winning.”
I wait for her to say something, but for a long time, she just studies me. And when she speaks, it’s not exactly what I want to hear. “Don’t bullshit me, Pandora.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you the truth. We’ve been following the AR gates around for days—including the clues my father has left out in the real world. The only way to beat the game is to follow the virtual clues and the real clues all the way to the end.”
“Really? And what are some of these real clues?”
“They’re code words. From my life. From my time with my father.”
“You said you barely knew your father.”
“That’s true. But he was around until I was seven, and I have memories from before that. For me, beating Pandora’s Box is about going back and tracing that relationship. All the clues have had very special meanings to us, things that no one else will get.”
Long seconds tick by as she studies me. Finally she says, “I can’t decide if you’re the world’s best liar or if you really believe the absurdities you’re spouting.”
“Look, believe me, don’t believe me. I don’t care. But the fact of the matter is we both know that total annihilation isn’t nearly as far-fetched as some people think. And from my perspective, Theo, Eli, and I are the only ones standing in the way of utter destruction.”
“I thought you said the clues were for you.” She pounces on this like a hungry cat on a cornered mouse. “But now you’re saying Eli and Theo have been helping you.”
“The game is complicated. They play with me. And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s a little dangerous out there. They’ve protected me as we searched for the clues.”
“They protected you right out of governmental custody.”
I don’t answer, because really, what can I say? Theo and Eli did do exactly that.
“If you want me to believe all this, you need to give me something. What’s the AR code to the first level?”
“Pomegranate,” I tell her instantly. Believe me, this is not a secret I enjoy carrying around. If the government wants to help, I’m all for it—as long as it doesn’t mean locking Eli, Theo, and me away in a dank room somewhere for the rest of our very short lives.
“Are you trying to be funny?” she demands.
“No. Try it. Have someone plug in the code and see what happens.”
She seems like she wants to protest, like she’s afraid I’ll make her look like a moron. I don’t push her—I have a feeling if I do, she’ll completely shut down.
In the end, I think she decides that living is more important than looking like a fool, because she radios the code in to someone.
“Now what do we do?” I ask after a couple of minutes of silence.
“Now, we wait. If you’re lying to me, you’re going to be a very unhappy young woman.”
A few minutes later, Lessing’s radio crackles and she steps outside the car. She’s only gone a few seconds before she yanks the door open and says, “Fine. You’ve got my attention. Tell me what you’re looking for now.”
“I have to play the next level of the game first.”
She nods, grudgingly. “
Fine.” She calls for my backpack on her radio.
“I need Eli and Theo.”
“Don’t push it.”
“I’m not. We work best together.”
She studies me, then says reluctantly, “All right.”
“They’re fine?”
“They’re alive and kicking.”
I stare at her through narrowed eyes. “That’s not the same as being fine.”
“Yeah, well, it’s the best you’re going to get. Okay?”
“Okay.” I mimic her bitchy tone and headshake. “Let’s do this, then.”
43
They drive me to a motel two towns over from the ethanol factory before they actually give me my laptop … or let me see Theo and Eli again. When they walk into the room Lessing has commandeered for me to play in, it’s pretty obvious my friends have been messed with. Theo’s old scrapes are bleeding again, plus he’s got a number of new ones. And Eli is walking with a distinct limp.
“What did they do to you?” I demand as I rush toward them.
“Nothing,” Theo says, with a look that tells me he’ll explain later. At least he’s more coherent than he was, the cloudy fever light gone from his eyes. Nice to know they got him medical treatment before they beat the hell out of him.
“So, you ready to play the game?” Theo continues softly. His way of telling me to cool it in front of Lessing and her crowd. Not that I need the reminder—I’m well aware that our every move is being watched, and that makes it difficult for me to think. I try to remember what it felt like to stand out here with my father, try to remember what we talked about. Any inside jokes we might have had, but nothing comes to me.
I hate this. Hate the helplessness of it, the fact that we are completely at their mercy.
“Hey.” Theo reaches for my arm, pulls me toward him. That little zing of electricity shoots through me at the contact, but then it’s drowned in the fountain of anxiety brimming inside me. “Pretend they’re not here, Pandora.”
“You make it sound so easy. Look at what they’ve done to you.”
“We’re fine,” Eli assures me.
“No, you’re not. And the last thing I want to do is help them when they’ve spent the last hour hurting you.”
“So don’t think of it as helping them. Think of it as getting us one step closer to your dad. We can’t get there without this clue.”
I know he’s right, but it’s hard to listen when blood is running down his face and darkening the bandage around his arm. I turn to Lessing, glare at her with every ounce of anger I have inside me. When she simply stares back blandly, it only increases my ire.
“Just ignore her,” Eli suggests, handing me my computer before logging in to Pandora’s Box himself.
“Where are we?” Theo asks after we drop into the game.
“Seattle, I think.” I fumble for the seventh picture. “This picture was taken at Pike Place Market—I recognize the Public Market Center sign.”
In the photo, I’m about five and I’m standing underneath the iconic sign, arms up and a huge grin on my face. My shirt is hot pink, with white writing that reads, “Save Puget Sound.” My dad is right behind me, dressed in wrinkled khaki shorts and a navy-blue T-shirt that proclaims, “Your Trash Doesn’t Know How to Swim.”
“Is there any environmental issue your father doesn’t stand for?” Eli asks incredulously.
“He seems okay with nuclear holocaust. But that could be a new thing.”
I turn to the game. We’re in front of the Space Needle right now, but that’s obviously not where we need to be. I’m not really sure which way Pike Place Market is from here, so I just take off running.
We end up making a few wrong turns—and seeing more dead virtual bodies than I’ve ever had any desire to, but eventually we make it to Pike Place. We enter at First Avenue and Pine Street, and then follow Pine until we get to Pike Place, which is the main drag of the market.
I’m not sure where I should look for the latitude coordinates—near the sign from the picture or somewhere inside here. We decide to split up, Eli and Theo looking in the market while I head for the sign. But I’ve gone only a few feet on Pike Place when I’m broadsided by the ugliest, scariest multiarmed, multiheaded giant I could possibly imagine.
If my Greek mythology is up to snuff, this is one of the three Hecatonchires, giants with one hundred arms and fifty heads. I don’t know anything more about them—like what their weaknesses are—and I sure as hell don’t know how to fight them. As the thing flings rocks at me, one right after the other, I duck behind the building and try to figure a way out of this.
I dodge the stones flying at me by weaving in and out of marketplace stalls. I round the corner and whip up Virginia Street and then down First Avenue again. Another giant jumps out at me, and suddenly I find myself sandwiched between two, both of whom look delighted at the prospect of ripping me limb from limb.
I punch one of them as hard as I can in a few of his one hundred eyes and then take off running while he’s still howling. I almost make it to safety, probably would have, if the third giant didn’t grab me and lift me clean off the ground.
I’m dangling about twenty feet in the air now, and it looks like I’m headed straight for his huge, slimy-toothed mouth. I shudder with disgust. Dying is one thing. Being eaten alive by a Hecatonchire is quite another, and one I don’t have any desire to experience, even on a virtual plane.
Not that I have much choice in the matter. I have no idea how to get away from this guy, especially since his brothers are right behind him, backing him up. In the end, I use the only power I have that no one else does—that strange radiation I discovered way back in Zilker Park.
I start to glow from the inside out, and when I put my hands on the giant arm holding me, he screams and lets go. I start to fall, and the other arms try to catch me, but my whole body is glowing red-hot now, and every time I come into contact with him, the giant howls.
The only thing that saves me from hitting the ground hard enough to break every bone in my body is that at the last second I grab on to the lowest of the Hecatonchire’s arms. He screams and shakes me off, but it’s enough to break my fall. I land with a thump instead of a crash, and then I take off running again.
I take the first right onto what I think will be Stewart Street, but suddenly there are all kinds of new twists and turns within the marketplace. My father has turned Pike Place into a labyrinth, with three giants instead of a minotaur chasing me down. Of course, it’s early yet and he could have that in store for me as well.
I slip into one of the farmers’ markets, then drop to my hands and knees and start to crawl between the stalls. I know this isn’t exactly a stellar expression of bravery on my part, but I figure living long enough to fight another day is more important, at least until Theo and Eli can get to me. They’re on their way—surely I can hold on a little longer …
Except that the giants follow me into the market. They’re way too big for the place, and each step they take squishes another booth. I duck into the flower stall, squeeze myself into a ball behind the sunflowers, and try to come up with a plan good enough to bring down three giants. Unfortunately, nothing comes to mind.
Glancing around, I realize there’s a coil of rope under the table next to me. I don’t know if it will work, but I figure it’s worth a try, so I grab the rope and tie one end around the concrete pole I’m leaning against. Then I take hold of the other end and start to crawl through the booth and straight across the aisle to the fish market, making sure not to allow any slack on the line.
Within seconds, one of the giants comes running by. He trips on the rope and falls flat, hitting the ground hard enough that everything bounces. He’s groaning and trying to get to his feet when I grab the biggest knife the fish market has and leap onto his back, burying the blade right between his shoulders.
He screams in pain and rage, and then I’m plunging the knife in again. I think it hits his heart this time because the bellows
stop, and all of his heads and arms collapse, lifeless, on the ground.
One down and two to go.
One of the other two giants is coming now, lured by the sound of his brother’s agony. I don’t think he’ll fall for the rope-across-the-path trick, so instead I throw one end of the rope over a high ceiling beam that is just waiting to be used. I fasten the other end into a loose loop. I set it next to his brother’s body and do my best to disguise it. Then I wait, breath held, to see if he will really be stupid enough to fall into my haphazard trap. Turns out he is, and more yells fill the marketplace as he is yanked off his feet.
“What is it with my father and these monsters?” I demand of the guys. “Has he raided every Greek myth in the damn world to make this game? Would it be so much to ask to get some normal people to fight?” I barely dodge razor-sharp claws in my face.
“Normal people aren’t direct representations of Gaia,” Theo says.
“The mother of the Titans?” I ask, confused. “What does she have to do with anything?”
“Mother Earth,” he corrects me. “Don’t you get it? Every creature we’ve fought has been an offspring of Gaia. Your dad has us set up in an adversarial relationship with the earth, one in which she’s not only holding her own in most cases but also usually kicking our asses.”
His words strike me hard. Is that what we’ve become in my father’s eyes? Adversaries to the earth? I think back to the car ride to Hugoton, to how I was thinking that he had made us incredibly vulnerable, given us no way to protect ourselves.
Is that how he views the earth, then? How he sees Gaia? As this sentient being with no ability to protect herself from the whims and destructions of mankind, save the natural disasters that seem to dominate world news programs today?
If so, I see his point.
But how can he think that’s enough to justify what he’s done? That it’s enough to account for the mass death that we’ve seen or that’s yet to come? There has to be a better way. I don’t know what it is, but I know that it must exist. Because this—I look around at the world of the game—this is so not okay.