Ant ran over to Griff. ‘This isn’t a game anymore,’ he said, ‘so let’s forget our avatar names. If we call each other “Tarn” and “YoBullit” it’ll just feel like we’re playing. We’ve got to take it seriously, so you’re still Griff and I’m still Ant.’
‘Except no real names in front of the investigators,’ said Griff. ‘If they catch us.’
‘Yeah. We’ll be Tarn and YoBullit in front of those guys.’ They nodded at each other, then headed round the lake, Prahdal following.
Griff stopped. ‘Here’s where I caught the rareio,’ he said sadly. ‘And here’s where it caught my mum.’
‘Well, it’s not here now,’ said Ant. ‘Let’s keep under the bushes as much as we can. We mustn’t be seen.’
Ant went first, followed by Pradahl, then Griff. Luckily, Pradahl wasn’t a huge dragon, especially when her wings were small, when she didn’t need to fly. They crept through the shadow of the bushes, then headed up the steep path to the main part of the park. The rareio could be anywhere. Wherever it was, the investigators were bound to be there too.
Halfway up, they heard clanging and angry voices. Ant made a signal and the three of them hid in a cluster of bushes trimmed to look like peacocks with their tails spread wide.
‘I’ll go and see what’s happening,’ Ant whispered. ‘Wait here. No, Pradahl – stay. I won’t be long.’
Pradahl looked uncertain but Griff stroked her nose gently and she agreed to wait.
Ant followed the path zig-zagging up to the golden bandstand. He edged out of the bushes to get a better look.
Shading his eyes from the intense sunlight, he could see the peppermint-coloured rareio filling the bandstand. Its face had grown so big, the mask was barely covering its nose. It wasn’t happy at all. Its great fists were wrapped around the metal posts of the bandstand. The clanging they’d heard was the sound of the posts shaking. New posts had been added in the usual gaps to trap it. When it shook them, the whole bandstand shook.
Ant could see the investigators. Together, it should have been easy for them to destroy the imprisoned rareio, but they didn’t even seem to be trying. The investigators’ avatars looked identical: all wore white suits with a green stripe running up each side and grey helmets. One of the investigators was poking the rareio with a long, thin stick with a twist at the end. It seemed to be giving it electric shocks and making it angry. Another investigator appeared to be studying the stats around its head. A third was standing guard a little further away, holding a similar stick to the first.
Ant waited until the guard’s back was turned and ran across the small grassy clearing, keeping low to the ground, careful not to make a sound. He reached another row of bushes, clipped to look like a row of pigeons marching up the hill. He crept between the pigeons’ legs and approached the bandstand slowly. He stopped when he was as near as he dared go. From here, he could hear what the investigators were saying.
14
Operation Wipeout
‘How much longer do we have to keep doing this?’ asked the investigator, prodding the rareio with her weapon. Each time bolts of lightning flew out of the twisty end, the rareio flew into a rage and rattled the bars of its cage ferociously.
‘As long as it takes,’ said the one studying the stats, who seemed like the boss. Ant thought there was something strangely familiar about his voice. ‘Until we find out what exactly went wrong, so it won’t happen again. We were so close, so close to success with Operation Wipeout. If that stupid kid hadn’t taken the rareio from his mother’s cache…’
‘I suppose it did show us there’s a problem with the game,’ said the prodder, who was probably his deputy.
The boss ignored her.
‘What about the frozen gamers?’ asked the guard. ‘We’ll to have to destroy this thing soon or they’ll never wake up.’
‘No way,’ said the boss. ‘Not until we get answers. If that means removing it from the Ray-Chay game and putting it somewhere else, fine. That might be better. We’ll tell everyone Ray-Chay is fixed and then they can carry on playing. But we can’t destroy this rario. Not yet.’
‘Where would we put it?’ asked the guard.
‘We could transfer it to some old Crunch Hut game. Something nobody’s played in years,’ said the boss.
‘Kismet Cosmos?’ suggested the deputy.
‘Yeah,’ the boss chuckled. ‘Actually, that would be kind of sweet.’
Ant felt his stomach churn. How dare these investigators think of turning this monster loose in Kismet Cosmos, his favourite game in the whole world? He felt sick. He felt like screaming insults at them, but managed to control himself. He had to focus on what they were saying.
‘It could take years to find out what went wrong,’ said the guard. ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for all those frozen gamers and their families. They think we’re trying to kill it.’
Without warning, the boss flipped out. ‘Sorry? Sorry! Do you know how many years I’ve spent working on Operation Wipeout? Do you know how much money I stand to lose? Some kid goes and shmucks it all up and I’m supposed to be like, “Hey, never mind?”’
‘I’m sorry, Kody,’ said the guard.
Kody? Ant shuddered as he realised where he’d heard the boss’s voice before. Could he really be standing within a few metres of the Kody Crunch?
Kody hadn’t finished having a go at the guard. ‘Get this into your thick skull!’ He sounded genuinely angry. ‘Those frozen gamers can stay frozen for eternity for all I care. Finding out what happened to my rareio and saving Operation Wipeout, that’s what matters. Have you got that?’
Ant could hardly believe his ears. Was this the same Kody Crunch who’d wiped away a tear and promised he’d do everything possible to help the
