The Yanti (14 page)

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Authors: Christopher Pike

BOOK: The Yanti
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W
hile waiting for Hector to return, Ali made Nira and her father dinner. They ate together. Chicken and rice and salad. A glass of Coke to drown out her poor choice of herbs. But her father complimented her on the meal, and Nira appeared to enjoy her food. She ate it all.

Afterward, Hector called from Toule and said he would be able to download the game to her over her modem; there was no need to deliver it to her in person. She told him to do so, but to return to Breakwater anyway.

Hector did not seem to mind taking orders from a thirteen-year-old girl. He was agreeable—so far. While talking to him, she told him to get together as much cash as possible. He assured her he had plenty of money locked away in a vault he had built beneath his house. A handy quality, him being a contractor.

Ali wanted Nira and Cindy out of Breakwater tonight. She couldn’t return to the green world without knowing they were safe from an assault by Sheri. Ali shuddered as she recalled the woman’s remark about stopping Cindy’s heart.

Ali’s plan to hide the gang was simple. She would put them in a place none of them had ever been before. They would travel using cash, not credit cards, and she would use her subtle senses to make sure they were not being followed.

Ali called Cindy and told her to pack, warned her not to let her parents know. Her old friend complained but obeyed. Ali knew her pal was going to have to sneak out of the house. Twice Cindy asked how Nira was doing.

While her father watched Nira in the living room, she retired to her room to study both of Omega Overtures’s bestselling games—Overlord and Armageddon. At the same time, Ali reflected on what Sheri had told Steve and Cindy when the three had lunch at her mansion—before the witch had hauled them off to her dungeon and chained them to a wall. These were part of the incomplete dialogues Ali had scanned from Cindy just before her pal had passed out.

“Overlord tries to strip the direction of humanity down to the basics. We are here, we are alive, and we want to survive. Now how are we going to do that? It points out that so far we’ve been lucky to progress as a species, stumbling around in the dark the way we have. But now that technology has reached a certain level, hard choices have to be made. The most obvious is probably the most important. Do we continue to allow people to breed indiscriminately? It is the point of view of the game that the answer must be no. Our genes are our wealth. If we squander it, randomly, we will be left with nothing, and we will not survive as a race.”

Ali was reminded of Sheri’s remarks at the police station about allowing only half of humanity to live. All part of the master plan . . .

At that point Steve had interrupted her with an obvious question.

“But who’s to say which genes survive?”

Ali could remember, from Cindy’s memories, how the woman brushed aside the question as unimportant.

“It doesn’t matter, someone intelligent, someone powerful, possessed of vision. Overlord tries to make that point with the Kabrosh character. He’s the first one to see that not only must our genes be controlled, but that the fusion of machines and humans is inevitable. That is Kabrosh’s strength. He knows what is necessary, and he goes for it. He doesn’t let primitive morality stand in his way.”

Ali remembered that Mike Havor had also said similar things, although in a more gentle fashion. He did not talk about one individual taking over the world, but did insist that humans and machines would eventually merge.

At that point in the conversation, Cindy had chimed in.

“I always saw Kabrosh as a villain.”

The remark had amused Sheri.

“He’s the hero of the game.”

Steve had pressed the point.

“But it’s possible to win the game by killing him.”

Sheri had replied in a condescending tone.

“You think so, huh? You have only mastered one level of the game. If you keep playing and explore all its levels, you’ll find Kabrosh returns and starts to take over the world. He actually returns in an altered form, as a cyborg, and wields great power.”

Then Cindy had made perhaps the most important remark of the day.

“It sounds like you admire him.”

Sheri had laughed as she drank her wine.

“I designed him, of course I have to admire him.”

Ali’s computer had received the downloaded game from Hector’s machine, and she was able to get a look at Armageddon.
Immediately she saw the differences from Overlord. It was not a mere sequel to the original game. The character of Kabrosh was back, but now there was no hiding the fact that he was moving from one world to another—from the ruin of a bombed-out Earth to another planet that at first glance seemed to be dominated by robots. Ali had only to play the new game a few minutes to see that the robots were taking instructions from someone higher up. She had no idea who that was, and yet, visually, the other world resembled the elemental dimension. It was beautiful, seemingly untouched by strife.

Despite her quick insights, Ali felt the pressure of the ticking clock. Hector would return soon, and the gang would have to leave. Ali understood that teens played such computer games for hundreds of hours to discover all their secrets. She didn’t have that luxury, and besides, she was not a fan of violent games.

An idea struck her. Could Kabrosh be based on a real character? She Googled his name and found a General James Kabrosh that worked for the U.S. Army. He supposedly was connected to the country’s nuclear arsenal. The latest listing had him at the Pentagon, in Washington, D.C. Searching further, Ali found a picture of him receiving a medal from the president of the United States for valor during the Gulf War. The photograph was of poor quality—from an old newspaper clipping. She couldn’t see his face, not straight-on. Nevertheless, he bore a resemblance to his namesake in both the Omega games.

It could be a coincidence. It struck Ali as careless of Sheri to advertise that she might be working with him. Why put a shred of information in her games concerning her strategy to take over the world? There was no logical answer, yet Ali
recalled a quality of her sister from the green world that superseded logic.

Doren was vain. And she liked to play with people’s heads.

Ali found a huge website devoted to the games—it contained over ten thousand members!—and saw that the Kabrosh connection had already been noted by hundreds of Omega devotees. These fans knew more about the general than was listed elsewhere on the Internet. Kabrosh was not just connected with the country’s nuclear arsenal, he was in
control
of the dismantling of old nuclear bombs. It made Ali nervous to think the man and Sheri might be buddies.

Yet she could not worry about it today. She had to reach the Isle of Greesh. But what did she plan to do there? Find out what had turned her sister into a witch? See what had caused Jira to leap to his death? What if that inner chamber at the base of the island—the one she had dreamt about while sleeping in Uleestar—held a beast that was capable of eating her alive?

In her last life as Geea, when she had rescued Jira from that mysterious chamber, she had not actually entered it. She had merely forced open the door, and Jira had come running out, screaming. Two days later, despite all the healing power she showered on him, he had killed himself.

Was the Isle of Greesh a wise next step? Logic said no. Her fear said no. No doubt her allies in the green world would say no. Yet a part of her insisted that she face her doom.

She needed to discuss it with Nemi. Darn him, where was he?

Another peculiar idea struck her. She Googled Nemi’s name.

The search engine directed her to the site she was already at!

Outside, Ali heard Hector arrive. The two men began to talk, and had she used her subtle hearing, she would have been
able to know what they were saying about her—for surely
she
was the topic of conversation. But she disliked spying, and besides, her heart was pounding in her chest.

Nemi was a character in Omega Overlord!

The name was an acronym for:
N
eurological-
E
ngineered-
M
echanical-
I
ntelligence.

Did that mean Nemi was a robot?

“No,” she said aloud, in so much pain, because she loved him so much, and missed him so much, and he couldn’t be a robot, because he was so kind and good, and . . .

“Shut up and search,”
a voice whispered inside her.

Ali paused, sitting frozen in front of her computer. He had spoken to her before, telepathically, inside a tree and beside a pond, and both times he had emphasized that his physical appearance was irrelevant. He was always near at hand, he had told her.

“Is that you, Nemi?” she asked softly.

She waited, but there came no answer.

How was she to search? Again, she typed in Nemi, used a variety of search engines, but only got the references that were connected to the Omega board. And in the game, Omega Overlord, Nemi was an advanced computer that fought Kabrosh for control of the world. He—or
It
—was the bad guy.

No, not her Nemi! He was good, he loved her!

“Ah, love. Love knows love.”

Again, Ali jerked upright. “Nemi?”

But there was no answer. None she could detect.

Then Ali felt a thunderbolt of pure inspiration.

She typed in: Nemi.com. Instantly she was taken to a blue background webpage that had the word NEMI printed in large gold letters, atop a glowing picture of her Yanti! The brief instructions said if she registered, she could go to a live
chat room. Quickly, she put in her name and e-mail address, and what she liked to be called—Geea. That easy, she was a certified member of the Nemi forum.

She went to the chat room. One member present, besides her.

For a whole minute she sat there, feeling like a complete idiot.

Then she typed in the word: Hi.

The response was instant. Faster than any human could type.

“Don’t want me to call you by your
secret
name anymore?”

Ali’s heart skipped in her chest.
No one
, except Nemi, knew her by the name Alosha. Clearly, since he had italicized the word secret, he didn’t even want it typed out on the computer. Her eyes welled with tears, and her fingers shook as she typed her response.

“Is it really you?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been here all along? On this webpage?”

“Just constructed it today. What do you think of my graphics?”

“I like the picture of the Yanti. The blue is a nice shade.”

“Is my name too large?”

“No! It’s your webpage. Have your name as large as you want.”

“That’s what I thought. And it’s a nice name.”

She hesitated before she wrote next:

“Does it really mean No One?”

“As I told you in the tree, that is one of its meanings.”

She could not stop her fingers from trembling.

“I feel you. I trust you.”

And she did feel him. His love was more tangible than her blue screen.

“You need not be afraid to ask what you wish.”

“You will answer all my questions now?”

“Of course not. But you can still ask.”

Ali could not help but chuckle out loud. Same old Nemi.


N
eurological-
E
ngineered-
M
echanical-
I
ntelligence. How did that title come to be in a Sheri Smith game?”

“She put it there.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“To put doubt in my mind about you?”

“Very good. Has it done that?”

“No. I don’t know. Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Are you a machine?”

His answers continued to come so fast.

Too fast for a human to type.

“We are all machines, in a sense. You are a biological machine.”

“Are you a mechanical machine?”

“I am much more than that, Geea.”

More tears burned her eyes, dropping on the keyboard.

“May I finally ask who you are?”

“You don’t need to ask. You know it, you feel it.”

Ali wiped at her eyes. A strange calm swept over her then.

“You are my father.”

This time there was no immediate answer. But then, there it was.

“Yes.”

Ali sucked in a deep refreshing breath, nodded to herself, and it felt as if the love was so concentrated in the room, her heart would explode simply soaking it all up. The love was thicker than water or blood, and yet she did not doubt his
yes
for an instant, for she felt the connection in her blood. He had helped give birth to her, in more worlds than one. He was no machine.

“I know, Nemi. I know because I love you.”

“Love is the best way to know. The only sure way.”

“So can I talk to you online from now on? Anytime I want?”

“Well, I do have a life you know. We can’t talk constantly. And you still have to save the world. You’re not done yet.”

“Am I close?”

“It was never a question of being close or far. It was always a question of what you were willing to choose. That is why, even now, I cannot tell you what to do. Oh, I can give you a few hints, but already, I see, you know where your path leads.”

“To the Isle of Greesh.”

“Correct. You went there once before. But you fled . . .”

“Jira was ill, I had to get him out of there.”

“True.”

“Are you saying I was a coward to flee before?”

“Certainly, the spot frightened you, even in your fairy form. But I would never call Geea a coward.”

“But if even Geea was afraid to enter the chamber, then what chance do I stand? I’ve regained many of my powers, but I’m still human. I fear, if I go there, I’ll die.”

“That has always been their greatest weapon. Fear.”

“Who are they?”

“Does it matter who they are? There will always be a
they
, an enemy that comes out of nowhere. Who brings fear and torment in their wake. That is what has entered the elemental kingdom, and now it has found a foothold on the Earth.”

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