Эрнест Клайн - Ready Player Two [calibre]

I recognized this image. It was famous. It was the very first piece of digital artwork Kira Underwood ever created. And I appeared to be reliving the moment just after she had created it….

And then I was back, in my own body, standing in Kira’s bedroom—the guest room in Middletown.

Somehow, I’d just spent a moment inside Kira’s past.

I was still reeling when a series of cascading chimes rang in my ears and a message appeared on my HUD: Congratulations, Parzival! You’ve found the first of the Seven Shards of the Siren’s Soul!

“What happened?” L0hengrin said. “You zoned out for a second. Are you all right?”

I looked down at the luminous blue shard in my hand.

“I had some sort of vision,” I said. “Like a momentary flashback. I guess that was the ‘toll’ I had to pay?”

“A flashback?” she repeated slowly. “What do you mean?”

“It felt like an ONI recording,” I said. “But it only lasted for a few seconds. I was Kira Underwood—or at least, it felt like I was her—and I was reliving the moment when she created that unicorn on a computer at her school when she was ten.”

“The Crescent Moon Unicorn?” Lo said, eyes wide with awe. “But it had to be a simulation, right? ONI headsets didn’t exist back in the ’80s. And Kira died years before they were even invented.”

I nodded. I’d just been thinking the same thing.

“No, it obviously couldn’t have been a real ONI recording,” I said. “But it felt like one. Halliday must have simulated it. Though I don’t have the first clue how he could’ve done it so convincingly….”

“Or why, ” Lo said, shaking her head. “Why would he create a Sim of one of Kira’s childhood memories? From her perspective? That would be a pretty messed-up night of programming, man. Even for Halliday…”

I was considering this question when an urgent notification flashed on my HUD. It was an icon I hadn’t seen in years—a Scoreboard alert. When I selected it, a web-browser window appeared in front of my avatar, displaying Halliday’s old website, where the Scoreboard for his contest had once resided. A few seconds after I had found the egg and won the contest, the Scoreboard had been replaced with an image of my avatar dressed in Anorak’s Robes, along with the message: PARZIVAL WINS!

That image had disappeared. Now a new Scoreboard had appeared in its place. But instead of a list of the top-ten players, this Scoreboard only displayed one avatar’s name—my own. And instead of a numerical score, there was a single blue shard icon beside my name, followed by six empty slots.

“Whoa,” L0hengrin whispered, running her hands through her short blond hair. She motioned to the blue shard icon glittering on the Scoreboard. “Now the whole world knows you have the First Shard. The newsfeeds must be blowing up.”

I turned the shard over in my hands, then held it up and examined it more closely. There was an inscription engraved into its crystalline surface:

Her paint and her canvas, the one and the zero

The very first heroine, demoted to hero

“ ‘The very first heroine, demoted to hero,’ ” L0hengrin repeated, suddenly standing right next to me. “Oh shit! I think I know—”

“Please, don’t!” I said, muting her avatar until she’d finished speaking. “I appreciate your help, but I can take it from here.”

“Oh,” she said quietly. “OK. I understand.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, placing the shard in my inventory to conceal it from view.

“If you get stuck, call me,” Lo said. “I’ve already conducted a complete search of this 1989 version of Middletown, and I found a ton of stuff you won’t believe! Clues I bet will be helpful! This is stuff no one else knows about—”

“I appreciate the offer,” I said again. “But I think you’re going to be pretty busy for the next few months…spending your reward. Time for you to get paid, Billie Jean.”

Her face lit up.

“Wait, you mean right now ?”

I reached up to open up my avatar’s HUD and I saw her hold her breath. I opened the Financial Transactions menu, selected her avatar on my display, and tapped a series of icons. And that was it. One billion dollars were transferred from my OASIS account to hers.

L0hengrin looked like she might pass out when she saw the transfer go through.

“Congratulations, Lo,” I said. “You’re a self-made billionaire. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

I offered her my hand and she shook it. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. Then she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me. I stood there frozen for a few seconds, then I hugged her back.

“I can’t tell you what this means to me, sir,” she said, once she finally let go of me. “This is going to change everything for me. And for all of my friends. I’m gonna be able to buy a house in Columbus for us to live in together.”

“That sounds like a pretty great plan,” I said, hearing my voice catch. “Once you’re all moved in, I hope you guys will invite me over to hang out sometime. Or you can come to my place. I could use some more real-world friends.”

“Well, we’ll have to see….” She laughed nervously. “You’ve still got six more shards to find….And I’ve got…a lot of things to figure out….”

She frowned as she appeared to contemplate the logistics involved in using her newfound wealth to make her dreams come true. I knew from experience how overwhelming that could be.

I opened a window in front of her avatar, displaying the contract again. “Remember. You’ve agreed not to tell anyone else how to find this shard, or share any of the details of our interaction, until after I’ve found all seven shards. If you do, our deal will be nullified.”

She gave me an anxious look.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I know you probably already told some of your friends that you found the shard, and that you were planning to contact me about it. That’s not a big deal….”

“Hey,” she said, leveling a finger at me. “Were you eavesdropping on us in our chatroom? You were, weren’t you? Like Og did to you and your friends during the contest!”

I ignored the accusation.

“Just make sure no one else knows where or how to find the shard, OK?” I said. “Not until after I’ve found all seven of them. Then you can each write a memoir for all I care.”

She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.

“Understood,” she said finally. “But please, do all of your die-hard fans—like me—a favor and don’t do anything else to embarrass us, OK?”

Before I could respond, she held up both hands, gave me a sheepish grin, and kept right on talking at a rapid-fire pace.

“I say that with all due respect, of course. Because I do respect you, and everything you’ve accomplished. You just lost your way a little bit. Which makes perfect sense—you suddenly became rich and famous! You know what Bill Murray said about that? ‘When you become famous, you’ve got, like, a year or two where you act like a real asshole. You can’t help yourself. It happens to everybody. You’ve got, like, two years to pull it together—or it’s permanent.’  ”

I frowned at her. “I’ve been famous for well over three years now.”

“I know!” she replied cheerfully. “But it’s never too late to turn things around.”

I nodded, trying not to show how much her words had wounded my pride.

She dropped her hands and exhaled. “Sorry. Had to be said. Has been said. Time to shut up now, Lo.”

She mimed zipping her lips. Way too late, in my opinion. I wasn’t sure if I was touched, hurt, or angered by everything she’d just said. Maybe all three at once.