The Eye of Minds tmd-1 Page 17

  But there were sounds. Of things scuttling across wood. Pots and dishes banging and clinking together. Odd grunts and chittering noises that were decidedly not human.

  Master Slake turned to face Michael and Sarah, his expression showing genuine concern. “Please don’t be afraid. They are my friends.”

  And with that he stepped into the sanctuary.

  6

  Michael and Sarah both hesitated, waiting for the other to go first. Finally, Sarah reached over and pushed on the back of Michael’s arm.

  “After you,” she said with a grimace. She didn’t bother to hide her fear.

  “You’re so gracious.”

  “I know.”

  Michael knew that something could happen at any minute. The Path was designed to keep them out of the Hallowed Ravine, not help them find it. But until they knew what they faced, there was no point in running or even looking at the code. They could only move forward.

  He took a tentative step then stopped in the doorway, gripping the wood of the threshold as he gazed around at what was inside.

  A long, low table reached from one end of a large room to the other. Plates and dishes full of scrumptious-looking food were laid out across its surface—as inviting a thing as he’d ever seen. But his attention was soon taken by the movement of bodies—and other than Master Slake, none of them were human.

  A mangy dog—at least three feet tall at its back—ran across the floor right in front of Michael, a cup in its mouth. To Michael’s right, a huge black bear, bald spots covering its chest, was leaning over to pick up a tray of cupcakes from a serving window that led into a kitchen. A bear. With a tray. Of cupcakes. Michael had to remind himself that it was okay—anything was possible inside the VirtNet.

  There was a tiger walking on its hind legs, holding a pitcher of something with its front paws. A goose flapping its wings as it used its beak to push dishes this way and that on the table to set them straight. There was a fox dragging a platter with an enormous Thanksgiving turkey on it. A lion with the handle of a breadbasket clutched between its huge incisors. A cat standing on the table, cutting up a chicken with a knife.

  Oddly, one of the first thoughts that popped into Michael’s mind was why didn’t these animals mind cooking their friends? Though maybe geese and chickens weren’t on the same social level.

  Sarah had stepped up behind Michael and leaned her face against the side of his arm as she took it all in. “You still hungry?” she asked.

  “I think if I can get past that dog licking our plates, I’ll be fine.” He had a sudden urge to laugh. He’d been so scared of what they’d find at the sanctuary, and here they were inside a storybook for little kids. The animals only had to break into song as they worked and it would all be perfect.

  Master Slake had taken a seat at the head of the table, where the large bear bent over to place a napkin in his lap. The man comically thanked the bear, and the creature went off to do some other chore.

  “Sit,” Slake bellowed, like some king sitting down with his minions. “There’s more food here than you could ever eat. Even within the Sleep.”

  Hunger won Michael’s obedience completely. Sarah tried to grab his arm but he slipped from her grip and went to sit down by Slake. As soon as he did, a squirrel pushed a plate full of steaming food in front of him. Its beady little eyes looked up at Michael briefly; then it scurried away.

  Sarah joined them, sitting across from Michael, and gradually her face changed from disgust into something like desire. The smells were just too delicious, Michael thought.

  “Please take my hands as we say grace to the spirits of our ancestors, man and beast.” Master Slake held out his hands, and his guests took them.

  Slake closed his eyes. “To the ones who came before us,” he began. “We ask your presence to look upon us in favor this day. We ask for a blessing upon our food and drink. Two travelers have come to our humble sanctuary, where we serve the needs of those who enter the dark forest. Bless them, dear spirits. Bless them with strength and hope. That they may defeat the demons that beset them, that they may further journey along the Path. Amen.”

  Slake released their hands, opened his eyes, and began to eat—he picked up a turkey leg and attacked it like a starving dog. Grease dripped down his chin, and a piece of meat hung from the corner of his mouth.

  Michael had to look away. His thoughts were occupied with the words of the prayer, and he had to ask the obvious question.

  “You said something about demons,” he said, picking at his food so he didn’t have to look at their host as he ate. “Was that just… normal prayer stuff?”

  Slake chuckled. “Oh no, my boy. Certainly not. I sincerely meant every word said to our ancestors. I hope that you can kneel at their feet before the demons rip you apart.”

  Michael almost choked on a piece of meat. He swallowed it down and cleared his throat. “Want to tell us more about these demons?”

  “Oh, my son.” The man wiped his mouth with a sleeve. “They are the least of your worries. The outside world is beginning to learn something that you—both of you—have yet to realize. Even though I know you are both adept at code, surely as good as your friend… Bryson, I believe?”

  The little hairs on Michael’s neck were rising.

  Sarah had a fork squeezed tightly in her fist. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a threatening voice.

  “Please,” Slake replied smoothly. “Let’s not get hostile. There’s no need. I’ve had enough of that in my life. Years of gaming can find you with many enemies. I was… quite good at it, you know. Until I somehow found my way here, onto this Path. I can’t seem to escape the damnable thing. I’ve accepted it now. I feel as if I have a new role to play. To help those like you. To convince you to leave—to find your way out when you can and never come back.”

  Michael stared at the man, desperately curious now.

  But Sarah spoke first. “Wait… you’re a gamer? Not just a Tangent?”

  Slake gave her a long, almost sad look. “It’s a pity you can’t tell the difference yourself. Truly a pity. I was one of the best. Perhaps the best ever.”

  Michael couldn’t help but close his eyes and scan the coding, as hard as it was to read. He analyzed the man sitting at their table, searched the programming for something, anything, that might give him a clue about what this guy could be talking about. He caught bits and pieces of the stranger’s history, fetched a couple of NewsBop stories, saw something odd in his digital nameplate. And then it hit Michael, and he snapped his eyes open again.

  “What the…,” he whispered. “You’re Gunner Skale.” The revelation thrilled him and scared him at the same time. “What are you doing here? Why did you vanish from the VirtNet? From the public?”

  Sarah was looking back and forth between them. “Are you serious?”

  The older man yawned and scratched his head. “Busted, as it were. I know I must seem lowly compared to my glory days. But I’m content, I promise you. I believe I’ve met a higher calling. I’m human, Michael. Sarah. I’m human, playing in a nonhuman’s world. The program speaks for itself. Two people as smart as you should’ve figured things out long ago. The Path should’ve taught you.”

  He paused, and the wheels spun inside Michael’s mind, like gears and cogs clicking into place.

  “You should have seen it,” Skale continued. “You’ve been in Kaine’s presence. You’ve been in many a Tangent’s presence. You’ve been among other gamers, countless times. The difference in programming is ever so slight, but it’s there for the taking if you know where to look.” He paused. “I think your friend finally realized the truth, and it was too much for him to handle. He panicked and lost his way on the Path because of it.”

  Michael finally had the answer, but it was Sarah who spoke first.

  “Kaine’s not a man at all. A man couldn’t do what he’s doing. He’s a…”

  Michael said it at the same time.

  “Tangent.”
/>   CHAPTER 17

  NIGHT ON THE COUCH

  1

  Skale went right back to his meal, leaving Michael and Sarah to contemplate the bombshell realization that the man they’d been chasing wasn’t human. Michael had already forgotten about the demons.

  Kaine. A Tangent. It was impossible. Utterly impossible. How could a program have fooled the world—the VNS, even—into thinking it was a gamer? How could it have become self-aware? Could it be possible? A knot grew in his stomach as he thought about it. Had artificial intelligence taken such a leap? Or was someone controlling Kaine behind the scenes?

  Then he remembered the voice.

  Michael, you’re doing so well.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Skale asked, pausing with a knife halfway to his mouth, a piece of meat on its tip. “I’d hate to offend my friends after all their hard work.”

  “But—” Michael stopped himself.

  He needed to think this out. Not only Kaine, but the man sitting in front of him. Skale had gone from being the most famous gamer in the VirtNet to a lost pawn within Kaine’s firewalls. And based on her silence and furrowed brow, Sarah felt the same way. Hunger still gnawed at Michael, so he dug in, taking a huge bite of bread, then starting in on the poor chicken. Once again he wondered why it had been baked in the oven while the other animals got to run around free.

  Skale spooked him with his response. It was as if he could read Michael’s mind. “All my friends know that a day will come when it’s their time to serve as nourishment. They usually take it with honor, knowing they’ve lived a good life.”

  For some reason that angered Michael. “You do realize that all of this isn’t real. Right?”

  “Who knows the true definition of real?” Skale said evenly as he continued to eat. “When you’ve been trapped in one place in the Sleep this long, it’s all as real as anything else. Now eat.”

  They did so in silence for a while. They’d need strength for whatever awaited them—which finally made Michael speak up again.

  “So there are demons. Kaine’s a Tangent. Anything else we should know?” The sarcasm was thick.

  Gunner Skale finished chewing, took a drink, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve again, leaving a smear of moisture across his red cloak. “You’ve already been given the information you need, if you’re willing to search for it. I hope your memory is strong, my son.”

  “My son?”

  “You have a nasty habit of repeating things I say, boy. I highly recommend you stop this practice.”

  The tone of the man’s voice made Michael nod, suddenly humbled. The old man had some fire in him, that was for sure. But Michael didn’t know how Skale planned to back up his veiled threats—unless the animals would do whatever he commanded. Getting eaten by a bear didn’t sound very fun.

  “Don’t you have anything else to tell us?” Sarah asked. She’d been so quiet.

  Skale stood up and took off his cloak, then held it out. The bear growled, a rumbling sound that came from deep in its chest, as it came over, took the red fabric, folded it over its arm, then walked away. Michael was half disappointed it didn’t bow and speak in a British accent.

  “Let’s move into the sitting room,” Skale said. “Rest our bones as I promised before.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply walked toward a door on the far side of the room and left. Michael shot Sarah a glance, then downed a couple more bites and one last swig of water. They both got up and hurried after their host, and Michael was sure his friend was thinking the same thing he was: being left alone with all those circus animals seemed like a really bad idea.

  2

  “What do you two know about the Deep?” Skale asked after they’d settled down into oversize chairs facing a cozy, flickering fire nestled within a brick hearth.

  Michael leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “You mean Lifeblood Deep?”

  “Lifeblood Deep,” the man repeated with a huff. “Is that really the only program you think has been escalated to such status?”

  Michael didn’t know what the man meant.

  “To Deep status?” Sarah asked.

  Skale nodded, never shifting his gaze from the fire. Michael could see the dancing flames reflected in his eyes. “Yes, what else? The Deep has been around since the beginning of the VirtNet, and only a few programs have reached its level. Lifeblood is the only one that’s public, and barely deserves the name.”

  “What else is there?” Michael asked.

  “That’s for you to discover in your own time. But one of them is the Hallowed Ravine.” Skale stood and walked to the fireplace, stirred up the flames with an iron poker. “It’s a program created by Kaine, hidden within the Deep. The Path connects it to the upper layers of the VirtNet. You’re lucky to have made it this far, luckier still if you make it all the way.” He stopped and turned to look at Michael and Sarah. “Let me ask you, haven’t you wondered how such a path could be created? One that the great and powerful VNS needs you to lead them to?”

  Michael wanted to know everything, but he had no idea what to even ask. “So… why are you telling us this? All you’re giving us is riddles and clues that don’t help.”

  “No clues, boy!” the man half shouted. He came back and sat in his chair. “I’m just talking to pass the hours until the demons come out. But maybe I’m tired. It might do us all some good to sleep.”

  “When do the demons come out?” Sarah asked, as if asking the time.

  Skale stood up, once again gazing into the fire as if hypnotized. “They come when they are ready to rip and slay. Good night, now. The bear will show you to your beds.” He took one last, longing look into the flames, then turned and walked away, disappearing through a wooden door that closed behind him.

  As tired as Michael was, sleep still seemed like the last thing he could manage. “He said those words again.”

  “What?” Sarah asked.

  “Rip and slay. Didn’t this guy ever learn about bedtime stories?” Maybe the bear will give us one that’s a little more chipper, Michael thought glumly.

  3

  Despite Skale saying he’d be shown to his bed, Michael was led to a rickety couch. It was hard and uncomfortable and squeaked every time he moved, but it was better than the floor. He pulled a scratchy woolen blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. A candle burned on a desk nearby, and he could see its flickering glow even with his eyes closed.

  The attack came all at once.

  A brutal, splintering pain cut through the middle of his head so suddenly that he fell off the couch, clutching at his temples with both hands. A piercing sound filled his head, partnered with a blinding light, and he wailed in agony, sensed Sarah appearing by his side, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him, asking what was wrong. Michael thrashed, trying to make her let go, afraid of what he might do to her.

  Images flashed across his mind’s eye. His mom and dad, their forms wavering until they vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind. Then Helga, her face screwed up in terror. She disappeared, too. Then Bryson, his eyes peering at Michael, full of hatred. Then he was gone.

  The pain didn’t cease, and he knew if it got any worse he’d faint, possibly die. He tried to stand. He opened his eyes to see Sarah on the floor, looking up at him with a terrified expression on her face. The candle still burned, but now it seemed as bright as the sun, and Michael had to turn away. He stumbled, threw his arms out for balance—it felt as if up was down and down was up. As if the room was turning and at any moment he would be thrown to the wooden rafters crossing the ceiling.

  The couch stretched out, kept stretching, getting longer and longer even though the room stayed the same size. Sarah’s head grew until her face was a horror from a fun house. The boards of the floor began to warp and twist, bending like they were made of rubber. And the sound of the horde pulling Bryson apart filled his head.

  He pressed his hands over his ears, squeezing his head as if to hold it together. Somewhere in the bac
k of his thoughts he saw the KillSims at the Black and Blue Club. They’d done this to him. They’d damaged his brain. The antiprograms had to have done something both inside and outside the Sleep.

  The pain pounded and pounded, and the world around him grew stranger and stranger. Arms stretching through solid walls, beating hearts hovering in the air, a fountain of blood pooling up from the floor, a little girl in a rocking chair, a limp animal in her lap. And the agonized lament of the unseen tormented—

  And then it all stopped.

  The room fell silent and all returned to how it had been before the attack. And though only moments earlier it would have seemed impossible, the pain in his head had disappeared.

  Michael crashed back onto the couch, his clothes damp with sweat. Sarah was next to him in an instant, reaching out to grab his hand, her face creased in concern.

  “Again?” she asked him.

  Michael felt as if he had run ten miles. “I think I’m dying.”

  4

  Skale didn’t wake up. At least, if he did, he never came and checked to see if his guests were okay. Sarah sat with Michael on the couch, arms around him. They didn’t say a word, and he was thankful she didn’t press him to explain what he’d just been through. He thought how lucky he was to have such an amazing friend.

  Eventually, they both fell asleep, and Michael didn’t dream. He slept a deep, solid sleep free of panic or fear. He slept like he was dead.

  5

  Gunner Skale shook them awake. The man had put his red cloak back on, and he was bent over Michael and Sarah, his face hidden in shadow.

  “Is it morning already?” Michael asked.

  “Morning never comes to Mendenstone Sanctuary,” Skale replied. “It’s our curse and our blessing, but there’s no time to explain. Your demons are here.”

  6

  Gunner Skale’s words brought Michael and Sarah straight to their feet.

  “What does that mean?” Michael asked the old man.

  “Where are the demons?” Sarah added.