LevelUP: an 8-bit novel by Micah Joel. Author's definitive online edition.

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Chapter Forty-Eight

3-11: …Another Castle

SKILLS:

* KEYBEARER

“Welcome…” announces the recorded voice as Max approaches. It hesitates longer than usual before figuring out his name. His mud-caked face interferes with facial recognition. The holographic mascot steps into view, an annoying blue arrow with hair coifed into an up arrow. Max would swear there’s a bit of awe in the mascot’s voice when he says Max’s new name: “Keybearer.”

“Unlock?” Max says. Is this all he needs to do? The mascot glitches, completely vanishing for a second before reappearing.

“Welcome…Hemera Krapht,” the mascot replies. “Welcome…Vic Vertex.”

Her high-heeled shoes are gone, mud splattering the bottom of her pantsuit. She leaves footprints behind her, as does Vic, closely shadowing her. An angry sound escapes through clenched teeth, and Hemera brandishes a weapon. The way she holds it, Max would expect to find a dainty pistol there, but there’s nothing more than dark stains on her fingers.

Max flinches as a bright, loud electrical arc leaps between her finger and thumb. Tiny spirals in her thumb and finger glow red for a moment before fading.

“You had a stunner embedded under your skin?” Max says. “No wonder you’re so popular.”

“You’d better watch it, or you’ll get lit up,” says Vic, smirking as usual.

Hemera lurches toward Max, spark flaring. Even from three paces away, the heat stings Max’s face. What must she have done to herself to not feel pain?

OUR PRINCESS IS RIGHT HERE IN THIS CASTLE

The words almost distract Max as he steps out of the way of Hemera’s attack.

The arrow mascot fuzzes out entirely and blips back as a low-resolution Princess Daisy.

“Ah,” Princess Daisy says. “Wherever was I? Oh yes, Keybearer, you have many questions. I do enjoy helping people, but I’m very busy and only do so in return for something of value.” The exact language the Muses had used.

“You’re…you’re one of the Muses?” Max asks.

“Not one of. Associated with.”

A muddy blur dervishes through the door, leaping high toward Hemera’s turned back, wrapping flailing limbs around Hemera’s neck, swinging and punching.

“Welcome…Molly Matheson,” Princess Daisy says, voice distorted, warbling between the artificial sound of the original mascot and the slightly less robotic tonality of Princess Daisy.

Hemera buckles to her knees and twists awkwardly, trying to wield her electrical fury to fend off Molly’s assault. The electrical arc makes contact with Molly’s coat-hanger hand, and the charge jumps from the conductor through Hemera’s neck. A blood-curdling shriek trails off as she slumps to the floor.

Vic rushes over and takes her hand. There’s enough residual charge to give him a solid zap. Shaking his fingertips, he fumbles around for a pulse, even though it’s obvious she’s still breathing.

Molly dusts herself off. “Serves you right,” she says.

“Uh… hi,” Max says. “Aren’t you supposed to be holding off two tons of destruction?”

“Soon as the stragglers caught wind of what was going on, I would’ve had to fight for a place in front of one of the dozers,” Molly says.

“I guess there’s an advantage to having a stack of IOUs under your pillow,” Max says. His face drops. “Or once having—emphasis on past tense.” His tent, his pillow, his IOUs, nothing’s left. “At least there’s still this.”

“What’s this?” Molly says. She’s smiling.

“You’ve been with me every step of the way,” Max says. “Not just anybody would’ve done that.”

“We await your next move, Keybearer,” the Princess Daisy avatar says. Then the image stutters and freezes again until it collapses with a loud burst of static into a single shining pixel. Molly covers her ears until the white noise echoes into silence.

“Friend of yours?” Molly asks.

“…”^[32] Hard as Max tries, no sound comes out of his mouth.

The pixel dances in sync with a sound like someone clearing their throat. Then it speaks. “I always thought the princess schtick was kind of played out, even in my day.”

“Dad!”

The image stretches and expands, like someone fighting their way out of a giant balloon. It ends up in a faint avatar of Hadley Root, clothed in a white lab coat over blue jeans and a tiger-striped tiki shirt. He holds his hands out in a welcoming gesture.

“Is it really you, or is this another simulation?” Max asks.

“Simulation isn’t the right word,” Hadley says, continuing to improve in image quality. “What you’ve been encountering are sub-sentient agents with a maximum rating of zero point eight Turings to preserve a safety buffer. There were limits on what I knew and/or could tell you.”

Max’s face sinks. It’s no better than LevelUP’s technology.

“But,” Hadley continues, “that was before. What you’ve got here is a live feed, baby!”

“Dad!!” Max rushes over for a hug but passes through the empty space. “Oh, right, hologram,” he says.

“That’s really your dad?” Molly asks.

“Where are you?” Max asks.

“Oh, that’s a good question. And it deserves an answer. But right now, my brave adventurers, you have a bigger problem you need to focus on.”

“What’s that?” Max asks.

“Funny story,” Hadley says. “But by around 1989 or so, the brave captains of industry had perfected digital locks to the point that it became too tempting not to put them in everything. Hemera, foremost among their successors. For some people, desire for control is the most powerful force in the universe. I repented of my ways. Her, not so much.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Hadley says, “you now hold the key to all those locks. Look out!—”

The hologram vanishes in a roaring electric flare. Hemera’s back on her feet, and she’s reduced the hologram machine to smoking garbage. The fumes choke and make it hard to breathe.

The large screen that normally shows work assignments flickers to life, displaying a flat image of Hadley. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he says. “What are you doing, going around threatening a one-armed girl half your age. Not very mannerly of you. Only the weak need to threaten.”

Hemera hesitates, cords of muscle in her jaw pulsing. She slowly turns to face the screen. “YOU,” she bellows. Not a pleasant sound.

Hadley waves cheerily at her. “Yep. Me.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Hemera says.

“Was I?” Hadley says. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed.”

“You were never one to listen to reason,” Hemera says. With a fluid movement, she grabs Molly, cranks the poor girl’s arm behind her back hard enough to make Molly cry out, and jams her stunner electrodes against Molly’s temple. “So maybe you’ll listen to this. Every one of you here is going to do exactly as I say unless you want your little princess lit up like that screen on her stupid game.”

Max’s mind races. He holds the master key to the locks on billions of devices. The key to a radically new society—one in which Hemera no longer plays a role. But he would never sacrifice Molly to get there.

Time slows to a crawl. “Don’t hurt her,” Max says. He raises both hands, slowly.

footnotes

[32] Sometimes I really miss David Foster Wallace.

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