“I said zero. That’s the origin code.”
“Zero?” I repeated. “That’s it? Just… zero?”
Zetlin gave a sly smile. “The phaders are a clever bunch. I knew they would try to crack the code, and I knew they would expect it to be a complex string of commands.”
Aja smiled and said, “You really are brilliant.”
“Am I?” Zetlin asked.
“I’m going to purge the Reality Bug,” Aja said. An instant later, her image disappeared.
“And then what happens?” Zetlin asked. “If Veelox is in such bad shape, all this will do is clear the way for its continued decline.”
“That’s the next problem,” I said. “There has to be a way to use Lifelight without letting it control people’s lives.”
“If I may say so,” Loor added. “If you could help Veelox find that balance, you would truly go down in history as a great man.”
“Perhaps,” Zetlin said, then looked at me. “Real life is so much more difficult than fantasy.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “But fantasy doesn’t last.”
Zetlin stood up and walked over to the big glass wall to look out onto his dreary city. I couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his mind.
Suddenly the monitor jumped to life with an image of Aja. She was sitting in her control chair in the Alpha Core.
“We’ve got trouble,” she said, all business.
“With the origin code?” I asked.
“No, that worked perfectly,” she answered. “I went right to the processing code and cleaned the string. I totally purged the Reality Bug from Lifelight.”
“Then what is the problem?” Loor asked.
“The grid went back online by itself,” she explained. “I didn’t do a thing. It just happened.”
“So everyone on Veelox is back in their jumps?” I asked.
“Yes.” Aja’s voice started to crack. She sounded scared. “But something else is happening. As soon as everyone went back online, huge amounts of data began flowing from all the Lifelight pyramids to the Alpha Core.”
“Data? What does that mean, Aja?” I asked, trying not to get too freaked out.
“I… I’m not sure.”
We watched as Aja quickly input a series of commands and then checked her control monitor. There was tension in her eyes. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good.
“This is impossible,” she said, her panic growing. “Data from all over Veelox is streaming directly toward the alpha grid.”
“Alpha grid,” Loor repeated. “What is this alpha grid?” “The alpha grid is where we are,” Zetlin answered, stepping up behind us. Uh-oh.
“Killian,” Zetlin said, “the firewalls you created to repel this Reality Bug, are they still in place?”
“Yes, but it’s like… it’s like the data is swarming. No, it’s attacking the alpha grid and dismantling the firewalls. I can’t reprogram them fast enough.”
While she spoke, Aja kept making rapid-fire keystrokes on her control panel.
“Could it be the Reality Bug?” I asked.
“No!” Aja screamed back from the monitor. “I cleaned the string. It should be gone. The Reality Bug is-“
The image on the monitor began to crumble. The picture flipped and twisted and changed until another face appeared on screen. It was the last face I wanted to see.
It was Saint Dane.
“Who is that?” demanded Zetlin.
“You don’t want to know” was all I could answer.
“Hello, all you desperate little Travelers,” Saint Dane chuckled. “If you’re seeing this recording, it means you’ve tried to purge the virus from Lifelight. Congratulations for getting so close! There’s just one little problem. The virus cannot be deleted. I made sure of that. In fact, trying to delete it, only multiplies its strength. Right about now, every jumper on Veelox is feeding the virus. Imagine having to battle the fears of everyone on the territory? Well, come to think of it, you won’t have to imagine it at all. You’re going to get the chance! I can’t wait to return to Veelox and see what damage my last little surprise has wrought. Until then, sweet dreams!”
Saint Dane’s image on the monitor was replaced by the sight of a zillion different numbers flashing by at lightning speed. Then every light on the control console began to glow brighter. Dr. Zetlin furiously input commands on his control column. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t working.
“Nothing is responding,” he announced.
“It’s like an overload,” I suggested. “There’s too much data for the computers to handle.”
The lights on the control console intensified, blinding us. We all covered our eyes and it was a good thing we did, because a second later, the large monitor over the control chair exploded. Boom! Loor grabbed Zetlin by the back of his jumpsuit and pulled him out of his chair as a wave of shattered glass hit the seat.
All three of us cowered, afraid that something else explosive might happen. Smoke filled the room, along with the smell of burning plastic. We huddled together and cautiously peered through the smoke to see an eerie sight.
The control console had gone dark. Every light was out. The monitor was nothing more than a jagged, smoking hole in the wall. We all stood, stunned, staring at the destroyed console.
But there was more.
“What is that?” Loor asked curiously, pointing down.
On the floor, covered in bits of glass from the destroyed monitor, was a black pile of goo about the size of a softball. It was as if a soft piece of tar had been spit out of the control panel when it exploded.
“Is that a piece from the console?” I asked.
“No,” Zetlin answered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I took a step forward to get a closer look. But as soon as I approached it, the odd substance began to move. It was alive! I jumped back, as if it were diseased. For all I knew, it was.
“Tell me this is part of your fantasy,” I said to Zetlin.
“I have no idea what it could be,” Zetlin answered.
Bad answer.
The writhing black goo began to take on different shapes. A chunk grew out from the top, pushed toward the ceiling like a growing plant. It rose up a few inches, then formed what looked like a snarling mouth on the end of a black stalk! The mouth opened, revealing a set of sharp black teeth. The teeth snapped shut and the mouth sank back down into the black ooze to become part of the glob once more.
“That was… gross,” I croaked.
The goo continued to writhe and squirm. We saw an eyeball peek out of one side, wink, then sink back into the muck. A tiny black fist then poked its way out, flexed its fingers. then pulled back into the mass. Then a sharp, spike-looking thing poked out of the side and retracted.
The three of us stood watching in awe. It was hideous and fascinating at the same time.
“It’s like living clay,” I said. “It’s molding itself.”
As I said that, the entire black form changed into what looked like an animal. In seconds, lying before us, no more than six inches high, was a cat-looking beast with two large heads, each of which had huge fangs. The form lay on its side, writhing like a newborn. It was solid black, but as it moved, the surface subtly changed texture. For a moment it looked like fur, but it quickly changed back into black goo. It even croaked out a ratty sound.
The instant the cat image was revealed, I felt Loor stiffen beside me.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her.
“It is a zhou beast,” she exclaimed. “From Zadaa.”
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Dr. Zetlin, have you ever seen something like that?”
“Never,” was his emphatic reply.
“Then it came out of your head, Loor,” I said. “You know what that means?”
“It means it’s here,” came a sober voice near us.
