Raine VS The End of the World (30 page)

“Rescue has failed. Target Gamma and one… assistant are dead. Position has been compromised. Repeat: position has been compromised. Need extraction 300 klicks north of Echo-3. Sending coordinates now, over.”

“Roger that. The
Freyja
sends her love. They’re ahead of schedule. Over.”

“Tell the Commodore I’m in need of a therapy session. Expecting pickup within the hour. Over and out.”

Lily then limped over to the speeder. On her way there, she picked up a small leather journal from Lacie’s weapon pile.

“In the Final Analysis: A Life of Death, Taxes, and Time Travel, by Lacie Hermes.”

There’s only one explanation. You wanted to die, Lacie, whether or not you admitted it to yourself. I don’t understand.

Once at the speeder, Lily began treating her wounds with Lacie’s first-aid nanopaste as she watched Raine agreeing to duel the Stopwatch.
Right on schedule. Good luck, kiddo
.

Something startled her. Far to her East, beyond the lone Network tower, an elderly wanderer stood among the rocks, leaning on a staff. A shaman, perhaps, or a representative of some local peoples.

Lily matched his piercing gaze. She expected him to offer help, or else to give her some form of recognition for what she’d just done. But the violence having abetted, the elder simply turned and walked away.

A true neutral. I understand. This isn’t his war to fight. He was simply here to bear witness.

Before long, her radar blinked in alert. A squadron of ships approached from the West. Lacie’s backup, sure to be combing the landscape. Lily kicked up the engine and re-opened the comm. channel.

“On second thought, Jojo, I’ve got company. I’m going to hang low for a bit and shake them off. You guys continue mobilizing.”

“Roger that. And please don’t call me Jojo.”

“I’m afraid I cannot comply. See you soon, Vice.”

Lily sped swiftly over the barren landscape. She remotely summoned the
Phoenix
to meet her halfway; she’d need its speed if she hoped to catch up with the EDC Armada by day’s end.

That shaman… there was something about his gaze. Did he think me a blessing to this world, a curse, or simply another force of nature?

A long look over the beautiful valley eased her mind. The cleft fell drastically into a waterfall and rose back up to form the bases of majestic mountains. Mountains that, in this universe, would never again be seen by human life in approximately twenty-five years, eleven months, and twenty-four days.

The thought usually made her sad, but this time all she saw was the empty space between the valleys, and all beauty seemed to her naught but an abstract evolutionary card trick. A practical joke played on the senses to drive the eternal machine forward.

Forgetting her mental equanimity, Lily slapped herself out of it, and then caught her subconscious in the act. It was self-destructive thoughts like these that drove Lorelei to forsake life on planet Earth.

“In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
– George Orwell

The sun declined as Raine was carried lovingly up the towering volcano, nestled in an oversized recliner while her subjects continued to chant her new fake name. They recently offered her a large bowl of fruit and whipped cream that, like everything else in the
Metaverse
, tasted disturbingly real.

At the summit’s rim, Raine struggled for breath through the swelling heat and toxic fumes. A deadly cocktail of boiling lava bubbled a thousand feet below the caldera. At long last she discovered what this show was all about.

Another group marched up the pathway, only they bore a different cargo. The Stopwatch had been heaved there atop the shoulders of eight men and two sets of very strong-looking bamboo sticks.

The former Champion’s expression was strong and stoic. They stood it up before the rim of the bowl. Raine watched in agony as the thing beeped and chirped in fear. Its cries could barely be heard over the chanting and tribal drums. From its hopeless face Raine somehow understood: if it fell in there, it wasn’t coming back.

“STOP!” she screamed.

The music ceased. Dozens of heads turned in her direction. A pixilated tear ran down the Stopwatch’s time display. Raine was absolutely stunned. She hadn’t expected the group of mostly adults to listen to her, much less halt what they were doing.

“Why do you ask us to stop, O Champion?” Casey, the child, ventured.

“Because I think this whole thing is crazy! What did this Stopwatch do to deserve death? Sure it beeps a lot, but… I can’t stand bullying! It’s just wrong! Even if it’s annoying or bossy or unreasonably good at
Super BlastBoy II
, it’s still a living being!”

At this the Stopwatch turned towards Raine solemnly, partly grateful, certainly confused at her compassion.

“Mr. Stopwatch, do you promise to stop your beeping if they turn you loose? Beep once for yes, twice for no.”

The AI beeped once in affirmation.

“Then it’s done! Release it! I command you as Princess of Pagoda!”

“But milady, it is written!” a man interjected.

“What is written, exactly?” demanded Raine, arms crossed like a bossy schoolteacher.

“That you would come from the outside world and defeat our Champion. Also, you would become the new Champion and lead us into an era of unlimited prosperity, a realm beyond our imaginations.”

“Who, me, specifically?”

A few nodded, not quite in unison.

“Who said this?”

The silence was unbearable. At last, Mrs. Zoot emerged from the mob, holding aloft Raine’s Network visor, now fully operational. She pushed a small button on its frame and handed it to Raine, who reluctantly placed the pair of goggles over her eyes.

A whole mass of glowing lights and colors popped up, but nothing happened.

“Um… what do I do now?”

Little Casey whispered in the Champion’s ear. “Don’t worry, Chosen One. There’s a first time for everybody. Just say, ‘Activate.’”

“Visor, activate!”

Everyone watched in wonder as a giant hologram of Super BlastBoy emerged from the visor and stood in their midst, smiling gravely. Way cooler than the sketch adorning the arcade cabinet, Anthony Kon held a stately presence, and spoke in a soft but powerful voice.

“And lo, to the people of Pagoda, I say to you: one shall come and defeat my own score in the game, represented by this Stopwatch, one whose skill and reflexes are far beyond that of any computer or algorithmic process. This warrior will be declared Prince or Princess of Pagoda, and he, she, or it will reap my great reward. Afterwards, a great storm shall fall on the land, followed by a great peace.”

The hologram vanished. Raine pulled off the visor, which was giving her a headache.

“I think I missed the part where he told you to kill the beeping one after I’d defeated it,” Raine said with a raised eyebrow. “Did he actually ever say that?”

“Yessss!” a lone man shouted at the top of his lungs, to which a few others muttered their abiding agreement.

Zoot cleared her throat. “Well, not really. In fact, I think that whole craze was started a few hours ago.”

The spectators found themselves silent. They then looked at one another awkwardly and murmured. Interrupting the rabble, the volcanic vapors began to swirl around wildly. A familiar shadow blocked out the sun.

Hundreds of feet above the volcano, the
Nebula
emerged once more from a sky portal.

The recognizable tractor beam struck on and tilted right down into Raine’s eyes, blinding her. When she could see again, the girl felt no ground beneath her feet; once more, our heroine flew helplessly upwards.

“Where are they taking you, O Chosen One?” Zoot called out.

These tractor beams are a real nuisance.
“This isn’t good! Help!”

Bellowing air currents drowned out her voice. She struggled for freedom, and remembered that she supposedly had unlimited power.

Raine focused her energy into her wand; a mass of black pixels shot from its gem and shorted out the beam. Five more switched on. Raine tried to command the dark matter, but the beams’ negative energy overpowered her.

Looking down for help, she neglected to notice that somewhere in all this commotion, the Player One robe had blown off and fluttered into the crater.

Good going, Raine.

“Great balls of tapioca! It’s her!” one of the onlookers cried at last. “She’s that fugitive with the mega-reward!”

No kidding.
Raine secretly wished the
airship would bring her up a little faster.

With the presence of the
Nebula
spurring them on, the crowd erupted in a general panic. Many had drawn weapons and were firing missiles at Raine.

Casey’s pained voice boomed, “Don’t do it, bro! She’s royalty!”

“I need that cash!” the teenaged punk from earlier responded, shooting upwards in a jetpack. Raine kicked him in the chest, sending the guy flying back down towards the volcano.

Chance popped out of Raine’s bag and cast sleeping spells that brought attackers to their knees. Lasers came from below, but Raine deflected them with her shield.

Blonde-haired Nimbus showed up on the volcano’s rim, calling out to Raine. Thinking him a friend of hers, the mob turned and assaulted the poor boy.

The Stopwatch and the residents of Pagoda appeared no larger than insects as the ship pulled up and away from the volcano.

The doors closed from underneath.

Raine felt a dizzying sickness as she landed in the ship’s docking bay, which she’d just narrowly avoided being trapped in less than a day ago. She found herself dry heaving onto the cold, metal floor on all fours.

Before long, a tall, dark, and handsome man offered to pull her up, smiling. Chance hissed before retreating into scarf form. Raine gave the figure a death glare. He withdrew his hand, and a Templar shackled her wrists together.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, Raine. I’m Mister Senior. It sure took you long enough to discover the wonders of our Network visors.”

□

A pair of Templars escorted Raine and Chance to a cramped cell, where she was seated for a few minutes, and then whisked out through a crystal lobby and into a posh dining hall, where the girl took the opposite end of the long table from her host.

“Dinner is served,” an android uttered, placing the hot plate before her. Never mind that it was probably a little early for dinner. It was filet mignon, a dish Raine had always been curious to try.

The uncomfortable realization that she had just been kidnapped fought against Raine’s now-growling stomach.

Across the expanse, the man who called himself Mister Senior sat with seemingly infinite patience, a sly sneer creeping across his face as sunken eyes studied her. Raine could sense him trying to start a mental conversation, hoping she might spill the beans.

She pretended to inspect the untouched meal and tried her best not to think of poor Gerrit.

If I show this man a sign of weakness, either Gerrit or I might be in danger.

Raine bravely made a study of Mister Senior’s features.
This politician thinks he can pry into my head,
she figured,
but two can play at that game
. He seemed almost a caricature, created entirely from right angles and flat surfaces, a statue carefully honed from a mixture of skin and marble. His teeth were the whitest ivory, and they looked about ready to chomp down on Raine and tear her nose off.

Aaand… that’s about as far as I can gather. I’m more of a Watson than a Sherlock, I guess. It’s probably better to be a good guest and take the first bite so we can get to talking.

“You like yours medium-rare?” he asked in between mouthfuls.

“Sure,” Raine said, after a second’s pause. The truth was she didn’t really know for sure yet just how she liked her steak, never mind that this steak was either virtual steak or dream steak. Neither should have been appetizing, but the food did smell and taste absolutely delicious.

Mister Senior put on his trademark smirk. She pulled on her wrists; feeling the shackles tighten, Raine realized that she had let her mind wander and rapidly set herself back on guard.

The girl caught a glimpse of the clock behind Mister Senior.

No way.

Based on her visor’s built-in clock, which she noted while viewing SBB’s message, two hours had passed that were unaccounted for.

What did they do to me?

“What your people just did to me was beyond horrible,” she said, ignoring the lump caught in her throat. “In fact, it’s unforgivable. As a fellow Developer, I’d like to request a formal trial.”

“Ha! Nice try. You’re clearly bluffing. Your cell’s mini-freeze system is programming perfection. There’s no way you recall anything from the past two hours, and trust me, that’s for the best. As it’s the details that are filled with spoilers, I’ll gladly give you the lowdown. For the first hour, we were simply trying to de-materialize you in every gruesome way imaginable. As anticipated, the crown plastered on your head made that rather difficult. The second hour was spent probing your subconscious for any hidden or suppressed memories. As we found nothing real, that was also a failure.”

Nothing real? How can that be? Keep cool, Raine. Don’t choke.

Faced with a blank stare, Senior shook his head. “It’s a shame, really. But at the very least, you can take comfort in knowing that you’re protected by some serious firewalls. Now please, eat.”

At a signal from the politician, the two armored officers flanking the exit turned and left the room.

This is probably the most creeped-out I’ve ever been.

“Actually, I think I’ve just lost my appetite.”

He cleared his throat.

“I thought honesty would help our relationship, but I can see your dislike for me won’t be so easily swayed,” he began. “So let’s get right to business. You see, Raine, you’ve been a thorn in our side for longer than we can allow. This world, like so many of our great species’ most majestic marvels, is a fragile construction built on the backs of many sacrifices. It currently lies on the brink, and the purity of the illusion is all that keeps it going. Much of what we’ve achieved has been due to trial and error. We change too much at once, and suspicion arises. If people are too happy, they long to destroy themselves. Too empty and uncluttered, and they seek transcendence. Always we must self-govern, and always we must pluck the weeds from our
Eden
. You are of an impure breed, causing a great deal of distress to people who have everything they could possibly desire. Your coming here is as a cancer to these souls.”

Raine furrowed her brow in confusion. “This place really is a virtual prison.”

“Ah,” Mister Senior said, intrigued. “So you really have no clue why you’ve come to
Endless Metaverse
.”

She gathered up all her strength.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But y’all are surely lost, or you would have spilled your guts already without having to go through that ‘cancer’ speech.”

He sat back in his chair. “Smart girl. Sad that you know even less than we do the true nature of your purpose.”

I’m not smart. I’ve just seen this scene in too many movies. This guy is used to performing for people who don’t know what a performance is, and he isn’t accustomed to not getting what he wants.

“Try me.”

“You’re not plugged in through any of our servers. We can’t lock onto your signal, and we can’t ban you. This makes you a user of either a hacked or an illegally created account. Most likely, you are being funded by terrorists. Yet, unlike the freedom fighters from the resistance, you are not engaged in any anti-establishment activity. In fact, you seem helpless as a newborn. And that is more dangerous than they could ever be. Your very presence, Raine, is warping the code and corrupting the algorithms of the
‘Verse
. Malicious signals are oozing off you, even as we speak. You may not be aware of this, but the feedback you’re sending has… altered those you’ve engaged with.”