D. MacHale - The Reality Bug

This was going to be a long overtime period.

The ref threw the ball up, it got tipped away from us, and the fun began. It was horrible. This was an entirely different game. I’m not sure if it was because these guys were suddenly better, or we had gotten a lot worse. Didn’t matter. The result would have been the same.

They ate us for lunch.

Skill-wise, they dribbled around us, passed behind their backs, and alley-ooped for a bunch of slam dunks. Physically, they pushed us around like we were little kids. I’d dribble to the top of the key with my back to the basket, and the guy guarding me would put a hand on my back so I couldn’t move. If I tried to pass, he’d swat the ball away and steal it for a fast break, followed by an easy layup on the other side of the court.

Three minutes into the overtime period and they had outscored us twelve to one. It was worse than embarrassing. The only reason we got a point was because I took a jump-shot and the center hammered the ball back into my face so hard that it bounced off my head and landed two rows deep in the stands.

To be honest, the rejection was clean. No foul. But the ref took pity and called it. Unlike the last time I stepped up to the foul line, the crowd had grown deathly silent. I didn’t think it was possible to have so many people in one place make so little noise.

I sank the first free throw, which was our one point. But I missed the second. It was a costly miss in more ways than one.

The ball bounced off the rim and rebounded back toward me. I jumped for it. So did their big center. He grabbed the ball and came down hard… elbow first.

Yeow! He nailed me right in the nose. Man, I saw stars! I landed on my butt with the gym swirling around me. This might have been a fantasy, but that shot to the nose felt totally real. They had to stop the game and Coach Darula ran over to help me up. Blood was spurting from my nose like a lawn sprinkler. My head was spinning. I wasn’t sure if I could make it back to the bench. Crutch and Joe Zip had to help me get there.

The crowd gave me a decent ovation. At least that proved they were still alive. Then, just before I sat down, I caught a glimpse of Aja. She had a big smile on her face like she was all sorts of happy that I had gotten nailed. All I could do was give her a dirty look. She shrugged. I sat down on the bench with my nose bleeding and my head swirling. I was done for the day.

But the day wasn’t done with me.

Even though we were getting our butts kicked. Coach Darula was still coaching like crazy. He was running up and down the court, shouting encouragement, calling plays, crying foul when the other team got too rough (which was pretty much all the time). I had never seen him so excited. His face was all sorts of red. It worried me that he was overdoing it. As it turned out, I was right.

There were thirty seconds left in OT. We were down by fifteen with no hope of making a comeback. At this point our guys were only trying to survive. I had a moment of guilt, thinking that it was my fault they were getting beat up like this. I had to keep reminding myself that it was all a fantasy. But at that moment, it didn’t feel like one. I know my aching nose felt all too real. Easthill had just scored, again, and Coach Darula wanted a time-out. He jumped up from the bench, shouting at the ref, making the T symbol with his hands… and that’s when it happened. Coach Darula clutched his left arm, his face went blank, and he fell to his knees. I’m no doctor, but I was pretty sure of what was happening.

He was having a heart attack. The game was stopped. The referee ran over and laid him on his back. He then motioned for the timekeeper to get the paramedics. Seconds later two guys in uniform hurried over to the coach to take care of him. I didn’t think it was possible, but the crowd was even more quiet than before. Within minutes Coach Darula was on a stretcher, being wheeled out as the crowd applauded nervously.

Nobody wanted to play after that. There was no pointy Everybody just kind of wandered away in shock. Even the Easthill guys didn’t celebrate their victory. It was all so very strange. I looked around for Aja, but she was gone too. Not knowing what else to do, I followed my team into the locker room and took a shower. My nose had finally stopped bleeding and the warm water felt good. I stood alone in the shower with my sore nose, washing the dried blood from my face and watching it swirl down the drain.

‘Any questions?” came a familiar voice.

Aja stood in the entrance to the shower with her arms folded, looking smug. I quickly grabbed my towel and covered up. Sheesh, could this get any worse?

“I’ve got a ton of questions,” I said while turning off the shower. “But first I want to know why my nose hurts so bad if this is all happening in my head?”

Aja chuckled. “You’re not hurt, Pendragon. Not really. When we leave the jump, your nose will be fine.”

“Good. Would you mind turning around so I can get dressed?”

Aja rolled her eyes and looked away. I went quickly back to my locker and changed into the clothes I had put there in my earlier fantasy. The locker room was empty now. The other guys were long gone. As I tied up my hiking books, Aja came over and sat down next to me on the bench.

“Lifelight took your thoughts and created a perfect fantasy,” she explained. “The Reality Bug took those same thoughts and also found the flaws and fears. Rather than only pulling out the good, it also found the bad. Just like reality. Getting beaten like that was something you feared might happen. You probably even worried that one day your coach would overdo it and get sick. The Reality Bug found those fears and made them real.”

“But what’s the point?”

Aja stood up and paced. “Haven’t you learned anything? The people of Veelox will never leave Lifelight on their own. The territory is crumbling because nobody wants to take care of real life. Reality is too much trouble. People have to work and repair their homes and grow food and have babies and deal with other people who might not agree with them, and basically do all the things that it takes to run a world. But in Lifelight they don’t have to worry about any of that. That’s why Saint Dane is winning. He’s got fantasy on his side. But my Reality Bug is the ideal solution. It makes Lifelight less than perfect so people aren’t staying in as long as they used to. It’s forcing them to return to real life.”

“So… you’ve already tried it with other jumpers?”

“A few. Every time they ended their jumps earlier than planned. It works, Pendragon. Once I’ve fully installed the bug, it will affect every jump in every pyramid on Veelox.”

Aja sat down beside me. It was the first time she seemed happy.

“Don’t you see?” she said. “The bug will make Lifelight more like reality, so it won’t be as attractive anymore. And nobody will know why. I’ve buried the bug so deep that no one will ever find it.”

I hated to admit it, but Aja’s plan made a whole bunch of sense. Still, there was something that bothered me.

“I think it’s great, Aja, I really do,” I said, still trying to form my thoughts. “If everything works out the way you say it will, then you did it. You beat Saint Dane.”

“Thank you!” she said with a big, dramatic breath, as if this were the one thing she had been waiting for me to say all along.

“But-“

“There’s no buts,” she jumped in.

“Maybe not, but you said the battle on Veelox was going to happen inside people’s imaginations. I understand that now. But aren’t imaginations hard to control? I mean, look at me. I got hammered. You said this came from my own fears. What if somebody fears something really big? I mean, the jumps could get dangerous.”