who was the ultimate winner. “He competed in the same spirit as we did. The race was fair.”
The guy walked up to me and held out his hand to shake. “Congratulations,” he said. “Nicely done.”
I took his hand and shook.
“Now it’s your turn,” I said. “We had a deal.”
“Indeed,” the guy said.
He pulled down his goggles and took off his helmet. He was a handsome guy, I’m guessing around sixteen years old. He had short, blond hair and an intense look in his eye. The second I saw him, I knew I had met him somewhere before, but couldn’t figure out where.
“I always honor my wagers,” he added.
That’s when it hit me. I knew this guy. Sort of. I had seen him in a painting. A portrait. He was younger in the portrait, but there was no mistake. It was him.
“I’m Dr. Zetlin,” he said with a wry smile. “Welcome to my fantasy.”
(CONTINUED)
VEELOX
You can’t be Zetlin,” I said. “Dr. Zetlin is seventy years old.”
“Seventy-nine, to be exact,” the kid-racer answered.
Loor and I shot each other a confused look.
“This is my fantasy,” Zetlin continued. “Why would I live it as an old man?”
I asked, “So, the guy lying in the Alpha Core-“
“That would be my physical body that’s seventy-nine years old,” Zetlin answered. “But in here I’m a strapping sixteen. The more interesting question is, who are you two?”
After all we had been through to get here, I had to force my brain to shift gears and remember the message Aja had for him.
“We’re here because Lifelight is in trouble,” I said. “A virus has corrupted the processing code. We need the origin code to clean the string.”
I was pretty sure that was the right message. For a second I feared it made no sense to him because Zetlin gave me a strange look. But then he turned to the other racers and said brightly, “Good race, guys! Later, all right?”
The other racers all said, “Yeah. Later! See ya, Z!” and skated off.
Zetlin then turned to us and said sternly, “Come with me.”
He pulled the skate pads from his boots and stalked off. Loor and I followed right behind. It was weird. When Zetlin spoke to us, he sounded like a serious adult. But when he talked to the racers, he sounded like an excited kid. I guess his fantasy was all about reliving his youth. Whatever. All we needed was the origin code. His fantasies were his business.
“I must say, I’m impressed you two made it this far,” Zetlin said. “Usually phaders don’t make it past the jungle. What are your names?”
“I’m Pendragon,” I answered. “This is Loor.”
“Why are you hiding in this building?” Loor asked.
Uh-oh. I wasn’t sure if challenging the guy was a good idea. We needed him on our side. But since the question was pure Loor, I figured I didn’t have a choice.
“The Barbican is my refuge from a world I want nothing to do with,” Zetlin answered. He then stopped and faced us. “And I don’t like being disturbed. But you two were willing to play on my terms. You’ve earned the right to an audience. This way.”
Who did he think he was? Some kind of king? I figured it wasn’t my place to question him either, so I let it go. There were bigger problems to deal with.
Zetlin walked toward a wall of ice. I wasn’t exactly sure where he was going until I saw a small black disk sticking out of the wall at waist level. Zetlin pulled on the disk and opened a door made of ice. Beyond was a small room with light blue, metallic walls. He motioned for us to enter. I figured we had come this far, we couldn’t chicken out now. So Loor and I stepped inside. The room was no bigger than an elevator, and that’s what it turned out to be. An elevator. Zetlin joined us inside, closed the door, touched a control button on the wall and we started up.
“I’m confused,” I said. “I thought Lifelight had to follow the rules of reality. This Barbican thing is about as far from reality as I can imagine.”
“That’s because you don’t have my imagination,” Zetlin answered with a chuckle.
Good answer. Zetlin definitely had an exceptional mind. I suppose it followed that his fantasy could be just as exceptional.
“The people of Veelox haven’t even begun to tap Lifelight’s capabilities,” Zetlin continued. “But they will.”
“No, they won’t,” I countered. “Veelox is falling apart because everybody is living inside their own fantasy worlds.”
If this news bothered Zetlin, he didn’t show it. The elevator slowed to a stop and the door opened. Zetlin stepped out first, and we followed him into a space that I can best describe as the dream home for a fifteen-year- old guy. I should know. I’m a fifteen-year-old guy and I thought the place was awesome.
The space was huge, but divided up into smaller sections so it didn’t feel like an airplane hangar or anything. The ceiling was made of clear glass, so we could see the sky and the last of the storm clouds passing through. That meant we were now on the top floor of the Barbican.
We first walked through a wood-floored arena that reminded me of a basketball court. But this was Veelox. Their version of basketball had soccer-style nets on each of the four walls, and green balls that looked twice the size of a basketball.
Zetlin led us across the empty court, through a door, and into another space that had the Veelox version of a game I remembered playing as a kid. You know that game where you have to knock over wooden pegs set up on a table by swinging a ball on the end of a string? I think it was called Skittles.
Well, this was like Skittles, only life-size. There were five giant balls, all hanging from ropes in the center of a round court. Instead of pegs, the idea was to knock over people. I’m serious. There was a game under way with ten kids in the center of the big court, and another ten around the circle. The kids around the outside would grab the ball and swing it into the center to try and hit one of the kids inside. Some of the kids inside really got clocked, too. It was like nasty dodgeball. I wasn’t sure if it was fun or torture.
“Hey, guys,” Zetlin called out. “Game’s over. Let’s play tomorrow, okay?”
Zetlin even used kid slang that sounded like Second Earth, but I guess that was because my Traveler brain interpreted it from whatever was the kid slang version of the language they spoke on Veelox.
“Yeah. Okay! See ya later, Z!” the players all shouted as they jogged off the court, headed for the elevator.
“You enjoy playing child games,” Loor said.
“Indeed,” Zetlin answered. “It relaxes me to play simple games of skill and chance.”
He led us next into what looked more like living space. It was modern, with a lot of big, comfortable couches of all colors. There were giant screens on the wall that I’d bet anything were for video games. It looked like we had just missed a big party. Plates and cups were scattered everywhere. All had half eaten leftovers of I don’t know what. The only thing I knew for sure was that it wasn’t gloid. There were a couple of older guys wearing green jumpsuits who were cleaning the place up.
One of them saw us and said, “We’ll have the place tidy in no time, Z.”
D. J. MacHale
The Reality Bug
“Take your time,” Zetlin responded. “I don’t think we’ll have anybody over again today.”
Wow. He had servants cleaning up after him too. Could this place get any better? It could.
We stepped into a modern kitchen that was full of incredible smells. A dozen chefs were scurrying around,
