LevelUP: an 8-bit novel by Micah Joel. Author's definitive online edition.
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< back | ⬆️ | next >3-5: The Veldt
Belly flop into a pool of molten chrome.
Crash into the defensive line of the Adobe 49ers—wearing nothing but Speedos.
Bear hug by a giant saguaro cactus.
None of these quite describe the electric jolt that pinballs Max’s brain around his braincase. Whatever the entrance routine has done to him is probably illegal in territories still recognizing the Geneva Convention.
The pain blinks off, abruptly, and Max stumbles and falls, a cloud of dust rising around him. A dead mouse, baked by the overhead sun, is the only distinguishing feature in sight. He’s pretty sure the back of his neck is already burning. This definitely isn't Menlo Park. Max looks at his hand—no bandage and no injury. He’s in another game world. Blue jeans and t-shirt swapped for khaki leggings and an uncomfortably hot leather shirt. Max thumps it a few times. It’s thick and cushioned underneath, but he already feels the sweat pooling against his skin.
What did the metakey call it? WELCOME TO THE VELDT. Not a word that comes up in ordinary conversation, though it has a familiar ring to it—maybe Molly recounted an old story once. The simulation is stunningly realistic. Unlike the previous levels, there’s not a single thing here to differentiate the experience from the real world. One could get lost in a place like this.
In the distance, a lion roars. Max can’t tell exactly what direction it comes from but it makes the ground shake.
Now what? All he has to do is somehow get all the prior trophies away from Hemera, as well as get to the final one before she does. Where to start?
Max’s HUD lights up:
YOUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE
Not exactly helpful—Max looks up again, and where shimmering horizon had been, now there’s a shimmering castle-shaped speck.
He sets out walking. The ground is hot enough to cook his feet through his shoes. Already, chapped skin flakes from his lips. It’s going to be a long walk.
The sun never moves from directly overhead, despite hours of sweltering walking. Max nearly trips on the featureless ground. He stops and looks closer, finding shallow depressions, barely visible in the overwhelming light. His legs seem like they’re no longer working properly, not lifting as high as they ought to. His feet drag. Is he getting—
Another roar shakes the world. This one’s louder. Closer and more threatening. Max looks around to find the source. The corner of his vision where the sun has been hanging out flares purple, even when he closes his eyes. Then he sees her.
The princess. Not in another castle. Here.
Her yellow dress is soaked with sweat, and her red hair is matted against her forehead, though at one point had been carefully arranged. As he looks, the hair seem to shift color to green, then purple. She cradles a tiny diadem in her hands. She looks up, surprised. “Sorry, I did no see you.”
“Sorry?” Max asks. Her speech sounds a bit off, maybe a bit computery.
She cocks an eyebrow. “You do not dance at all!”
Max shakes his head.
“Can not you handle English spoken?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m—Aieeee!”
Before the blur in the corner of his eye fully registers, Max leaps into action, knocking the princess out of the way of a something that zooms past. It leaves a smell in its wake—a rank, musky stench that makes Max think of a predator. But how?
“Get me out!” she shouts, ineffectually pounding him with her fists. “How do you happen?”
Max frantically looks around. Where’d the monster go? He checks his pockets—nothing there with which to defend himself.
“Do you see it?” he asks.
The princess shoves him off, picks up her tiny crown, and begins the elaborate process of righting herself in her current attire.
“Is it invisible? Where’s the lion?” Max says to her. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you care that you’re about to get eaten?”
There’s definitely something wrong with his eyesight. He can’t see anything on his left side, though he can only tell this when he moves his head in a certain way. Which he does at the sound of a fierce snarl.
Stay calm. How do you beat a lion? They can sense fear, right? Maybe in the real world. Things are different here. More designed. There’s always a way out. Level designers make sure of that.
Max throws a wild roundhouse punch in the direction of the snarl, landing squarely on the lion’s nose (which, he’s surprised, is as moist as the stray cats he’d fed outside his tent). Enraged, the lion lashes out with a meaty paw. The razor claws slash into his armor, knocking Max onto his backside. He notices an array of hearts hanging in the air above the lion.
The princess screams. Not a frightened scream, but a warrior’s battle cry. The lion hesitates.
“Inventory,” Max says.
INVENTORY:
* SLING
* 2 SMOOTH STONES
Seriously, that’s it?
“Use sling.” The sling appears in his hand. It’s just a floppy piece of leather, like a skinny belt with a reinforced section in the middle. What’s he supposed to do with this?
“Put a stone in a sling,” the princess screams.
“Sorry that I’ve never fought off a lion before,” Max fires back. “Put stone in sling.” A cool smooth stone appears in his hand, not in the sling. Note to self: This level’s designer was a fan of DIY. The stone’s just the right size to cradle in the pouch made by curving the thick part of the sling. Now what? The closest think Max has seen was reading old Thor comics, where the hero would helicopter his mighty hammer around his wrist.
A quick glance to see how the princess is doing. As Max turns his head, the lion fades into view. That’s the secret. It’s only visible in the right half of his field of view.
Moment of truth. Max swings the sling—and the stone immediately slips out, tumbling to his feet. When Max bends to pick it up, he attracts the attention of the beast, which turns to him.
Max lets the sling drop and just throws the stone as hard as he can. It smacks the cat right in the eye, and the lion vanishes with a frightened growl.
“Lovely joy,” the princess says.
Max isn’t sure what to say to that. “I have questions.”
“If you do not see, this is not the place for a straightforward conversation” the princess says.
“Are you heading to the castle?” Max asks.
“I will,” the princess says.
“Good. Then we can go together,” Max says. Hand in hand, they run.
They sprint as far as Max can handle, then walk in silence, Max catching his breath and giving the adrenaline time to settle down to a low buzz.
“This level is kind of lazily thrown together, huh.”
Princess makes a noncommittal sound.
“Do you have a name?” he asks.
“Daisy,” she says.
“Princess Daisy…” Max says, pondering. He looks Daisy in her deep green eyes. They seem almost familiar. “Molly?”
Daisy looks at him as if he just called her a shrubbery. “The maker was too tired,” she says, scowling. “Just copy and grab.”
“I think you mean ‘copy and paste’...wait, am I talking to somebody right now?”
“In fact you talk to someone,” Daisy says. “An amazing question.”
“No, I mean, are you part of this level?”
She sniffs in offense.
“You didn’t come from the LevelUP corporation.” A statement, not a question.
“What is corporation and LevelUP?” Daisy asks.
“You don’t know anything about the black slime?”
“Sounds tremendously,” Daisy says.
“I think you mean ‘loathsome.’ And you’ve never met The Eigenthief?”
“You saw what I did with that lion,” Daisy says. Max bites his tongue. “I do not let anyone say that I am in contact with thieves.”
Max sighs. “No, not like that. I suppose you’re not Bode either.”
Daisy stops walking, and Max almost runs into her. A thoughtful look settles behind her eyes. “Who’s Molly?” she asks.
The question catches Max by surprise. “Someone who never got a chance.”
“You care about her.”
Max raises a finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”
Silence stretches between them.
Daisy shakes her head no.
“We’re not safe here,” Max says. “We’d better keep moving.”
As they walk, the castle ahead starts to take shape. “Molly always played a game that featured a Princess Daisy. Or was it Peach? No, I’m pretty sure it was Daisy.”
“I was named after a song[28],” Daisy says. “Political, would you not agree?”
“You mean ‘poetic.’ My dad named me after a guy who lived inside a computer,” Max says.
“He seems like sweet,” Daisy says.
“My dad? Or the guy in the computer?” Max asks. Daisy doesn’t answer.
As they approach, the castle ahead reveals itself as oddly shaped, more like a rock formation than something built by hands. “Have you ever been in this castle?”
“No, I'm different from a castle,” Daisy says.
Of course.
“Do you think at least you’d be able figure out how to get in?” Max asks. Do you have any inventory? Bombs?”
“One question at one time,” Daisy chides. “We will emerge when we get there.”
Which happens soon enough. As they get approach, they can see that what passed as a castle is actually thousands upon thousands of tiny castles, smashed together like bricks. The result is a tight fit, not even a sliver of light able to pass through. And the construction is entirely uniform—no visual hints of an easy bombable entrance. Not that he’s found any bombs.
The strangest part of all is the door, rough-hewn wood planks joined in the shape of a giant keyhole. Stretching his arms as far as they go, Max can’t reach the top.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Max asks. “Do we need to find a key the size of an SUV?”
“No, see—there is space for a key,” Daisy says. She’s right. The door has a tiny rectangular slot, the size of a Shift key turned ninety degrees.
Max looks closer. The keyhole is a tiny door, complete with a doorknob you’d need a tweezer to manipulate.
“OK, we can work with this,” Max says. “This tells us something important about whoever designed this level. They had a healthy, if quirky, sense of humor.”
“I do not understand,” Daisy says.
“A door shaped like a giant keyhole? With a keyhole shaped like a door? That’s just funny. Not ha-ha funny, though. It’s the kind of joke my dad would—”
Realization thunderstrikes.
Max knows how to get inside.
footnotes
[28] The most famous song ever sung by an IBM 7094.
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