LevelUP: an 8-bit novel by Micah Joel. Author's definitive online edition.
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The door bangs shut. A muffled voice says, “It’s chained. From the inside.”
“Humans First,” Molly whispers, her eyes wide.
“What?”
“Humans First.”
There was a time the early days of Damage when the Human First movement had been widely blamed for the chaos. Somehow, the story went, they were responsible for bringing everything down. Of course, that theory didn’t explain why older, 8-bit technology continued to work, but angry people looking for someone to blame have never been known for their flawless logic.
“Yeah, I gathered that,” Max says. “The sign we saw earlier kind of gave it away.”
What Humans First lacks in technology, they more than make up for in seething anger. Threatened by forces they don’t understand, which covers a lot of ground.
Molly looks frustrated. “Humans First,” she insists.
She’s trying to say something beyond the obvious. But what? She sees something. A way out of this? Four angry men just outside the door, driven by overflowing testosterone and testosterone. How will they get out of this one?
Molly changes tactics, and whispers, “Power source.” Max shrugs. “Power source, power source, pow-wer soar-sss.” Not one to cope effectively with stress.
“There’s someone in there,” a gruff voice snarls. Sounds like the speaker would outweigh Max and Molly put together.
“Well, kick it in, moron,” says another voice.
Max grabs Molly and pulls a few inches clear just as a heavy kick crashes against the door. The chain holds. Outside, a howl of pain.
“Stay here,” calls the voice. “I’ma get my crowbar.”
“Slow down and explain,” Max pleads. “What about the power source?” If she’d have just left the lock in place, they’d be safe now, but Max doesn’t see any use in pointing this out.
Quiet settles just long enough for Max to calm down a little, then the door smashes against the creaking chain. A crowbar swipes through the open space and works its way upward until it snags the chain.
Adrenaline fire surges through Max’s veins. The world creeps in stuttery slow motion in between each strobe of his heart, every nerve cell in his body on highest alert. He seems to float above the apartment, every room visible at once.
In the space of a single heartbeat, Max considers several plans. He could make a last stand holding the door shut with all his strength until overpowered. He could go out in a blaze of glory, taking the intruders one-at-a-time, using the closest, heaviest object—maybe that beautiful flat screen monitor. But it’s awkwardly big to use as a weapon. And that would only be a surprise to the first one to enter. Or he could make for the windows, but they’re high above the ground, and had survived a decade of thrown rocks, bricks, and who knows what else. Those were not meant to be opened.
So, no good options.
The crowbar finds purchase. The thick bolt securing the chain gives way with a metallic shriek. Max and Molly stumble backward as the door bangs open and four men stomp through the entrance. One of them has a flashlight, shining through fresh plumes of dust and blazing splotches on their dark-adjusted eyes.
“Scrawny little things,” the lead bully says. He grabs Max’s collar and lifts him into the air. “Let’s toss ‘em off the roof.”
Max’s pulse throbs in his temples. He’s ready to explode. His throat is still bruised from the earlier encounter, but that seems like a distant memory. The best he can hope for is to protect Molly.
Too late. The lead bully looks Molly up and down. “What’s in the backpack?”
The rectangular bulge of the NES stands out. Max tries to unscramble memory of the earlier moment where he stood up against Hemera’s muscle men, even though that was barely an hour ago. He did it before—he can do it again. Right?
It’s difficult to get words out. “You wouldn’t like it,” Max croaks. “It’s a portable handi-vac. Take you a week to get through all the dust in here. Pretty sure it’s not even HEPA filtered.”
Pressure on Max’s collar eases. His feet touch the floor again.
The lead bully looks uncertain. “Comedian, huh?” he says. “So was that scientist who wouldn’t stop working on his brain-in-a-box. Didn’t work out so well for him.” He bats Max aside, sending him sprawling into the dust.
Whoa. Brain emulation? That’s not what you’d expect to hear from the mouth of an ordinary street tough.
Then Max finally realizes what Molly was saying all along. These are Humans First bullies. They have a baseline distrust of anything they don’t understand. An active superstition against technology. Like, for instance, that power source that Molly scavenged. Pow-wer soar-sss.
Max scrambles back to his feet, putting himself between Molly and the leader. The effort combined with the dust makes him sneeze again. “Curious about that backpack?” Max says, waving away plumes of dust. “It’s no vacuum cleaner. That would be kind of silly, here in a place with no power, right?”
The leader looks confused, quickly yielding to anger.
“No,” Max continues. “This is something much more special. Let me show you.” He slowly reaches for the backpack, keeping his hands in view while he slides it off Molly’s shoulders and onto the floor. “I don’t know how often you gentlemen get a chance to wander through these parts, but you probably noticed that this particular residence was set up with some extra…what’s the word? My pre-Damage vocabulary isn’t so great. Ahh, right. Nuclear Radiation Shielding.”
He pronounces nuclear carefully; all three syllables of it. The Humans First leader flinches at the words and subtly shifts weight back onto his heels.
“Here, let me show you,” Max says, as cheerfully as he can muster. He opens the zipper and smoothly works his hand to the bottom, finding the electronic keypad.
“Ever seen a nuclear reactor up close?” He suddenly pulls the device free, letting the sickly green light illuminate his face from below. He sticks it in the leader’s face. “Here, look.”
The leader takes a stumbling step back.
“Eeeew, hold on, it’s leaking something sticky. Yikes! This stuff kind of tingles when it gets on your fingers.” Max takes a forceful step toward them. “Here.”
The leader matches his retreat, bumping against his companions huddled behind him.
“What’s wrong?” Max says. “This is the future. Pretty soon everyone’s going to have one.” And that’s all the Human First crew can take. They turn and struggle to be the first out the door. Heavy steps clomp down the stairway, outer door slams hard enough for Max to feel it all the way upstairs.
“Huh,” Max says. “Your loss.” Then he sinks to the floor, drained. It feels good to just breathe, even if the air is clouded with dust. Instantly, another sneeze starts to build. “That was close. And by the way, thanks for the hint.”
“Atari,” Molly says.
“Slow down, you lost me again,” Max says. “You’re not talking about your Atari Lynx again, are you?”
“This room was built here for a reason. There used to be an Atari building on this spot[5]. It was demolished in the year 2000.”
“So what? A different building was on this spot forty-one years ago.”
“That’s why. For us to find,” Molly says.
“You’re not making any sense. Look, let’s get out of here and figure out the details later.”
footnotes
[5] http://www.atari.io/atari-world-headquarters/
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