D. MacHale - The Reality Bug

All five of us took a different route. It was tricky, not only because I had to get through as fast as possible, but now that I wasn’t following anybody, I had to keep an eye out for the red arrows that marked the course.

I have to admit, I was doing pretty well. I can’t take all the credit though. These skate pad things were incredible. They made it so easy to shift direction, I started pouring on the speed and cutting it very close to the boulders. I saw that I was actually pulling ahead of the others. It was awesome! By the time we got to the end of the boulder field, I was out in front. The checkpoint was just past the final obstacle, and the first ball was mine. Yes! But I didn’t care about winning. All that mattered was the next checkpoint. I had to get one of the next balls to make sure I’d finish. I was feeling pretty confident, though, which in my experience is the kiss of death. This time was no different.

I had just grabbed the red ball and dumped it into the steel basket, ready for the final push, when something hit me on the back of the foot. At first I didn’t know what it was. But I wasn’t worried… until I put that foot down and tried to push off. Before I knew it, I lost my balance and fell to the ice. Something had happened to my skate pad.

On the ice next to me, I saw the culprit. A red ball was lying at my feet. The first racer shot up, scooped up the ball, and dumped it into the basket.

“Sorry,” he said. “It got away from me.”

Yeah, right. He had thrown it at me. The ball must have knocked off my skate pad and when I put my foot down, my boot caught the ice and sent me tumbling. Sure enough, I saw the wire frame of the skate pad a few feet away. I scrambled for it, desperately pulling it back over my shoe.

I quickly looked up to see the four other skaters leaving me behind. I was done. There was no way I could catch up and pass anybody before the next checkpoint. But I didn’t know what else to do. So I strapped the skate pad back on and skated after them, praying for a miracle.

The racecourse again veered left and into another canyon. This one wasn’t as narrow as the first, and the walls weren’t quite as steep. I pushed as hard as I could, trying to catch up, but it was useless. These guys weren’t taking any more chances. They were skating hard and moving faster than they had the whole race. The sad truth hit me that up until then, they had been playing with me. They knew I wasn’t a threat and barely put out any effort. But now, they had their heads down and pumped their arms powerfully. I didn’t stand a chance.

That’s when I got the miracle I needed.

The four remaining racers were so focused, they didn’t see it coming. But I did. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. It didn’t make sense. But nothing about this fantasy building made any sense, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. A few seconds later I saw exactly what it was and it suddenly made all sorts of sense.

High up the slope on one side of the canyon, an avalanche was starting. But it wasn’t about snow and ice. It was an avalanche of red balls. There must have been forty of them, all rolling down the hill, headed for the skaters. There was only one explanation.

Loor.

I looked up to the top of the rise to see her standing there with the empty wire basket that had once held all the balls. Excellent.

I glanced down to the racers. They had no clue about what was bouncing down toward them from above. The only question now was whether Loor had timed it right. There was a chance the tumbling balls would miss them entirely.

They didn’t.

The balls rained down on top of the unsuspecting racers, making them scatter. One took a header and beefed it into the canyon wall. Another spun out, lost control, and came to a dead stop. A third kept going, but had to pinwheel his arms to keep his balance. One racer dodged the balls completely and kept going. I didn’t care. Fourth place was all I needed.

I flashed past the three skaters who were trying to get their balance back. They didn’t know what had hit them. When I got to the checkpoint, I had my choice of three balls. I felt like taking one and dumping the other two over, just to put an exclamation point on the moment. But I figured we had already cheated enough. So I picked up one of the balls, and spiked it into the steel basket with a vengeance.

I coasted home on the last leg. By then the two other racers caught up and passed me, but I didn’t care. I skated across the finish line with my hands in the air chanting, “We’re number four! We’re number four!”

Loor jogged up and patted me on the back. I could tell she was holding back a smile.

“Good race, Pendragon,” she said.

“Good thinking, Loor,” I shot back.

“You cheated!” one of the racers yelled. It was the last guy who dropped out. He skated up to the finish line looking all sorts of angry. “I call foul!”

“Excuse me,” I said calmly. “I thought the first rule was: Anything goes.”

“But she interfered,” he protested.

“But it was okay to throw a ball at me and knock my skate pad off?” I shot back. “I don’t think so.”

By then the sixth skater had returned. “I want another race,” he demanded.

“Tough,” I said.

“There won’t be another race,” said the first racer firmly. It was the guy who explained the race to us and 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)

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.