“And our ‘friend’ isn’t the problem,” Noble adds. “Rufus has been helping us. He’s been trying to set us free.”
“Yeah, right.” The man with the tool belt gives a disdainful snort. “He’s malware, son. They’re all the same and they never help anyone.”
“That’s a lie,” says Noble. He speaks calmly because he know how useless it would be to berate this slow, sweaty, stubborn man, who probably doesn’t understand the concept of freedom. “You said it yourself—Rufus is our friend. He wants to save us from tyranny. Every one of us, including you.”
“Me?” The man laughs. But Noble plows on regardless.
“Are you happy here? Is this how you want to live your life?” he demands. “You don’t have to do what you’ve always done. Rufus taught me that. He taught me to think for myself. To work out what I want.”
The man shakes his head, jowls wobbling. “Boy-oh-boy. He’s really done a job on you, hasn’t he?”
“All he did was tell me the truth,” Noble rejoins.
“No. He didn’t. If he’d told you the truth, he would have explained what happens when you undermine systems.” As Noble opens his mouth to answer this charge, the man waves at a nearby screen and continues, “It can’t be done—not in here. Everything will fall to pieces.”
“Then we can rebuild it again.” The princess sounds briskly confident. “Death and destruction are the handmaids of war. But where the cause is just, and the fight is fair, a phoenix will always rise from the ashes.”
“She’s right,” says Noble. “This isn’t chaos, this is a battleground. We’re fighting a war against tyranny. The Colonel wants to oppress us. It’s because of him that monsters are killing children. It’s because of him that I was Princess Lorellina’s enemy for so long.”
“We didn’t know the truth,” Lorellina interrupts.
“Exactly. We were ignorant. But Rufus opened our eyes. He showed us that we weren’t enemies after all.” Noble suddenly finds himself parroting Rufus as he tries to enlighten the man in front of him, who’s collapsed back into his chair. “You should open your eyes. Do you want the Colonel to rule your life forever? Or do you want to step outside this prison and become something more than just a puppet in a box?”
With raised eyebrows and folded arms, the man says drily, “I’m not just a puppet in a box, son.”
“Then prove it!” Lorellina exclaims. “Don’t submit to the Colonel’s dictatorship! Join us in our quest to kill him and set yourself free!”
Noble can’t help wincing. “Uh—wait. No. Don’t do that,” he advises hastily. Lowering his voice, he addresses Lorellina. “We don’t want to kill the Colonel. Remember what we decided? It would be better if we tried to reason with him.”
“Hah!” The princess curls her lip. “You think he’ll listen to reason?”
“Perhaps,” Noble retorts. “I certainly did. And so did you.” While the princess absorbs this reminder, Noble turns back to the man in the chair. “The Colonel is a cruel and unjust lord. We want to persuade him to stop killing people. We want him to see that keeping his subjects ignorant and enslaved is wrong.”
“Oh, I think he knows that already,” the seated man observes. “Trouble is, there’s nothing he can do about it. See, the Colonel didn’t design Thanehaven Slayer. Or Killer Cells. Or even the memory heap. He didn’t install them, either. He’s got no say over the choice of program that’s dumped on this hard drive. All he can do is make sure that the system’s running properly. That’s his job.”
“But—”
“If you want to stop monsters from killing kids, the place to go is the real world. Outside this computer.” The man’s chubby arm traces a careless arc in the air. “You want someone to blame? Blame Mikey Jaundrell. He’s the one who downloaded that shooter game. He’s the one who’s been running you ragged.” With a nod at Noble, the seated man concludes, “His sister’s on here, too, sometimes, but she’s no psychopath. She likes clothes and bunnies and unicorns. It’s Mikey who’s into blood and guts, not the Colonel.”
“How do you know?” the princess snaps. “How can you speak for the Colonel? Are you his minion? His second-in-command? His friend?”
“No,” the man replies. “I am the Kernel.” And as Lorellina claps a hand across her open mouth, he drawls, “Who did you think I was, the security guard?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
For a split second, Noble freezes. He can’t think, move, or speak. It’s as if someone has turned him to ice with a magic spell.
“Hey,” says the Kernel, “don’t shut down on me. There’s no need to panic.”
“You’re … you’re …,” Lorellina stammers.
“I’m the Kernel. Right. But I’m not a cruel and unjust lord. I’m just a guy trying to do his job.”
“Run!” Noble squawks. He grabs the princess, yanking her out of the booth and flinging her behind him with such force that she nearly trips. But as she regains her balance, the Kernel says, “You don’t have to run. You’re safe in here.”
“Hah!” Lorellina scoffs.
“If I was going to hurt you, I’d have done it already.” The Kernel has to lean forward to address Lorellina because Noble is backing away from the booth, shielding her with his outstretched arms. “C’mon. Do I look like a threat? You’re the dangerous ones, not me. It’s you who’ve run amok.”
“We have not run amok!” Lorellina retorts. She digs in her heels, ignoring Noble’s efforts to dislodge her. “We have embraced freedom!”
“With a vengeance,” the Kernel mutters. He flaps a pudgy hand at the bank of screens next to him. “Just look at this mess! And you wanna shoot off and leave me with it? Thanks a bunch. That’s real public-spirited of you.”
His tone is so morose and crabby that it heartens Noble. Victors don’t grumble like that. Victors exhult.
“You have only yourself to blame, if your subjects have turned against you,” Noble points out, hovering warily just beyond the Kernel’s reach. “Your kingdom was built on cruelty. Children are being consumed by monsters—”
“It’s not my kingdom!” the Kernel interrupts. “How many times do I have to tell you? I take orders and I carry ’em out.”
“Orders from Mikey?” asks Noble.
“And Mikey’s sister, Louise. And the programmers. And whoever else gets in here.” The Kernel sighs and slumps back into his chair, his shoulders hunched, his expression doleful. “I’m the middleman, okay? It’s not my fault that kids are being eaten.”
“Of course, it is!” Lorellina exclaims. “Because you let them die!”
“It’s in the program. I didn’t write that program. I just run it.”
“Then why don’t you run it better?” Noble finds himself arguing more fluently than he ever would have thought possible. “You should fix all the programs. You should make them safe and just and benevolent.”
The Kernel shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Noble demands.
“Because I can’t change the programs. Not unless I’m ordered to.”
“Rufus is changing them,” Noble points out.
“Yeah. Well.” The Kernel’s pouchy, bloodshot eyes flick once again toward the array of glowing screens. “Rufus is malware. He doesn’t care about this computer.”
“You’re wrong,” says Noble. “He does care.”
The Kernel snorts.
“It’s true,” Noble insists. “Have you ever talked to him?”
“Talked to him?” A sour little smile tugs at the corner of the Kernel’s mouth. “Oh, no.”
“You should,” Lorellina remarks. And Noble backs her up.
“That’s right. You should. If you knew him, you’d understand that he wants to do good.”
“Good?” the Kernel echoes. He points at the nearest screen. “Do you call that good?”
Noble studies a slightly blurred view of a small, sky-blue unicorn running around and around in circles, weeping rainbow-tinted tears. A
stack of paper is impaled on its silver horn, and it’s being chased by an enormous, fire-breathing dragon.
But Noble refuses to let this disturbing image silence him.
“What’s happening there is happening because of you,” he says. “If you’d only give the garbage collector a rest, then everything would get better.”
“Oh, really?” The Kernel doesn’t sound convinced.
“You should talk to Rufus about it. About everything. He’s willing to parley,” Noble continues, before glancing again at the image of the sky-blue unicorn—which suddenly breaks up, becoming fuzzy and shot through with jagged lines. “Maybe Rufus has made some mistakes, but you could help him to repair them. You could work together instead of fighting each other.”
“Much as we work together,” Lorellina adds, glancing at Noble. “We were mortal foes once, but now we have joined forces against a common enemy!”
“Ye-e-es.” Since their common enemy happens to be the Kernel, Noble doesn’t want to stress this point. Instead, he makes a suggestion, fixing the Kernel with a solemn, searching look. “Rufus has the power to change things, so perhaps he can give you the same power. And perhaps you can help him to overthrow tyranny without … without …”
Noble pauses, trying to think of a suitable phrase.
“Without overthrowing everything else as well?” the Kernel asks.
As Noble nods, Lorellina says to the Kernel, “What choice do you have? I see no forces massing to defend you. The time has come to parley—or risk losing all that remains of your kingdom.”
The Kernel stares at her for a moment. “You’re right,” he mumbles at last. “Rufus and I need to talk.”
The princess smiles. Noble extends his hand to the Kernel, saying, “Come. We’ll take you to him.”
“Oh, no. I can’t just leave.”
Noble frowns. “Why not?”
“I’m part of the operating system. I can’t wander away—it’s impossible.”
“But—”
“Rufus will have to come here. You’ll have to bring him.”
“Here?” Lorellina’s voice drips with scorn. “To your own home, which you control absolutely? I think not.” She appeals to Noble. “Treaties are always forged on neutral ground. Is that not so?”
“Uh—well—yes.”
The Kernel shrugs. “Sorry,” he remarks. “I couldn’t get out of this place if I tried. That’s not the way things are set up.” As Noble glares at him, he points at his screens. “We can find Rufus with this. We can figure out where he is. And then I’ll send you after him with a key, so you can let yourselves back in.”
“With only your word as guarantee?” The princess intervenes before Noble can answer. “This seems to me like a cunning ploy. We have breached your defenses, and now you want to expel us with a false key! So that we cannot return and beard you in your den!”
The Kernel sighs. “But it won’t be a false key,” he says, with strained patience.
“How can we know that, until it’s too late?” Lorellina demands.
“Look, I just said I wanted to talk to Rufus,” the Kernel says. “You just said I had no choice. Why would I suddenly make that impossible by locking you all out?”
“So you can parley from a position of advantage,” Lorellina counters. Then she turns to Noble again. “This man might be lying. Why should we let him set the terms? We should take him with us. To a safe place.”
“You won’t be able to,” the Kernel warns her.
“Why not?” She curls her lip. “There are two of us and only one of you.”
“The doors won’t open. They won’t let me out.”
Lorellina looks to Noble for support, but she doesn’t receive it. Without shifting his gaze from the screens—which he’s been watching intently—he tells her, “There is no safe place.”
“What?”
“There is no safe place. How can we know what we’ll be facing out there?” He gestures at a pile of bleached bones half-buried in a windswept sand dune. It’s only one of many pictures that have filled him with dismay. At least, the Kernel’s lair seems quiet. At least it’s not falling apart, or seething with monsters, or otherwise uninhabitable. “We can hold our conclave in here,” Noble solemnly decrees. “I’ll fetch Rufus by myself. If I can’t get back in … well …”
As he hesitates, surveying the princess a little doubtfully, she picks up where he left off. “I shall force the door. Or make him do it,” she says, her voice ringing with confidence, her index finger trained on their fat, bald, sweaty companion.
Noble grunts. He’s not entirely sure if she’s strong enough to control the Kernel, whose unhealthy appearance might be some sort of trick. Lorellina is as dainty as a rosebud, whereas the Kernel might have access to any number of concealed weapons. Maybe I should be the one staying behind, Noble thinks. Then he cuts a glance at the screens again, and sees that the little old lady in the Archive is now up to her neck in drifts of paper.
Or maybe not, he concludes. Maybe it will be safer in here.
“Where’s Rufus?” he asks the Kernel, who shrugs.
“I dunno. I lost him.”
“Then find him again. Now,” orders Noble.
“Be my guest.” The Kernel cocks a thumb at his array of screens. “He’s bound to pop up somewhere. We just have to keep our eyes peeled.”
“Oh.” Noble is taken aback. “You mean there isn’t a quicker way?”
“No. There isn’t a quicker way.”
So they all settle in to watch the unfolding display of light and color and movement in front of them. Noble does it from the threshold, propped against one doorjamb. The Kernel twirls around in his seat, which has four wheels attached to a central shaft. The princess leans against the desk while she scans the parade of shifting images. There’s so much to see that it’s hard to keep up, but a glimpse of her cousin’s fortress makes her gasp.
“Look at the walls!” she cries. “Why has that happened?”
“Are they bleeding?” says Noble. Even as he speaks, a giant incisor breaks off from the battlements and plunges into the river below. Red liquid begins to ooze from the gap that’s left, though Noble can’t tell whether it’s blood or river water.
Then a tusk follows the incisor as the great walls slowly shed their teeth, one by one, and red trickles stain the gleaming, ivory-colored towers.
There seems to be a large crack in the sky.
“Here he is,” says the Kernel.
“What?” With considerable effort, Noble transfers his attention from the Fortress of Bone to the tip of the Kernel’s right index finger, which is planted on a scene that’s swathed in shadow. “Are you talking about Rufus?”
“Who else?”
“I can’t see him.” Noble peers at a murky view of vacant chairs—dozens of them—all crammed together in rows and facing in the same direction. “Where is he?”
“He’s moved out of shot. Hang on.” The picture blinks and changes. “There,” the Kernel remarks. “Right there.”
Sure enough, he’s pointing at Rufus—or rather, at the top of Rufus’s head. Rufus is marching up a shallow staircase that separates one mass of empty seats from another. Behind him are Yestin, Brandi, Lulu, and Lord Harrowmage.
With a muffled exclamation, Noble leans forward. “Quick!” he barks. “I have to get in there! Before they leave!”
“Okeydoke.” The Kernel begins to heave himself out of his chair, joints cracking, keys jingling. Lorellina is still staring in horror at her cousin’s fortress, where gargoyles are bumping into walls like befuddled moths.
“Princess.” Noble gently touches her arm. “Princess?”
“What have we done?” she whimpers, reaching for the screen in front of her with a trembling hand. “Why is it like this?”
“Why do you think?” It’s the Kernel who replies. “Because that particular program is breaking up. Its memory is destabilizing and its walls don’t want to be walls anymore.” Nudging at Noble wi
th his swollen belly, he adds, “You’re in the way there, big fella.”
“Yes, I—uh … wait.” Noble gives Lorellina another hesitant little prod. “Princess? I have to leave now. I have to fetch Rufus.”
Lorellina looks at him blankly for a moment. Then she blinks and catches her breath. “Oh!” she exclaims. “Yes. Yes, I—I understand.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Of course!” Snapping out of her daze, she stiffens her spine and raises her chin defiantly. “Go! Now! While you can!”
Noble is torn. On the one hand, he’s worried about Lorellina. On the other hand, he realizes that he’ll have to be quick if he wants to catch up with Rufus. So he sidles reluctantly out of the booth, with many a backward glance.
The Kernel heads straight past him, making for a door halfway down the nearest passage. “They’re in the Video Folder, which isn’t too big,” the Kernel announces, hitching up his pants. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder to make sure that Noble is following him. “You won’t get lost—just follow the EXIT signs. And don’t worry if you’ve gotta chase ’em into another program. The key will get you back in here, no matter where you are. As long as you’re the one who uses it.” Stopping suddenly in front of a gray metal door, he turns to check on Noble’s progress—which is slower than usual. “What are you doing? We can’t waste any time.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Noble has been waiting for Lorellina, who’s finally managed to drag herself away from the glass booth. He needs her to concentrate on her immediate surroundings, not on the state of Morwood. “You’ll have to watch your back,” he warns her. “There must be at least a hundred ways into this place.”
She nods, her expression slightly abstracted.
“Don’t take your eyes off that man for an instant,” Noble recommends, jerking his chin at the Kernel before softly adding, “There are sharp tools on his desk, in case he gives you any trouble.”
Again the princess nods. “Good luck,” she says.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
By this time, the Kernel is impatiently tapping his foot. When at last Noble joins him, a little silver key passes from hand to hand so quickly that Noble almost drops it. Then the Kernel steps back several paces, away from the door.
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