Game World. C.J. Farley
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“There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation . . .” Emma began.
“Here she goes,” Dylan moaned.
“Monks used to put dots or spaces between words when they were copying books,” Emma said. “But between the second and seventh centuries they stopped. Wanna know why?”
“Not really, but I guess you’re going to tell us anyway,” Dylan said.
“Leaving no space between words made books hard to read. It forced people to pay attention to what was really being said. Whoever made this parchment wants us to focus.”
“Thanks for the history lesson,” Dylan scoffed. “Ines—did your dad use this parchment? Why can’t we just ask him what it means?”
“Yeah—and where is he anyway?” Eli added.
“Let me worry about that,” Ines replied. “Nobody knows more about Xamaica than us. We need this portal if we’re going to get to Xamaica for real. This code is what opens up the portal . . . So what do these symbols mean? Anybody? Anything?”
Dylan peered at the parchment. The top image was an oval with a kind of bar jutting out of the top, the next appeared to be a smile, and the last looked like a lock without a keyhole. “Well, the first image could be a key.”
“I thought that too,” Ines said. “There are 256 doors in Uncanny Valley, and 145 keys. None of them opens anything in this room.”
“We’re being too literal,” Emma said.
“So when is a key not a key?” Eli asked.
The kids stood around for a bit and Ines began to hum that same crazy tune that her dad did in the video. Dylan smiled and turned to Ines. “You have a tapestry room, a cheese room—and a piano room, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“Your humming gave me an idea. I’m going to need help.”
* * *
Dylan and Ines pushed one of the grand pianos into the room.
“A piano key!” Emma laughed.
Ines ran her hands over the keys. “What do we play?”
“It’s gotta be some song that means something to your family,” Emma said.
“What’s that melody your dad’s always humming?” Dylan asked Ines.
“He used to play it when I was a baby,” she answered. “I don’t know the name.”
Ines hummed a simple little tune that was like really sad carnival music.
Emma sat at the piano. “I’ve got nearly perfect pitch. I hear something once, I can play it.”
She played the tune with her left hand. Nothing happened for a few moments, then all at once the black tablet flashed like the sun emerging from an eclipse. The kids were momentarily blinded, and shut their eyes. When they opened them again, the black tablet had vanished, and the white room was gone. “It’s on,” Ines breathed. “It’s really on.”
Xamaica was suddenly all around them, brighter and bolder and realer than ever, like going from standard to HD to whatever is a quantum leap past that.
Dylan turned to Emma. “Time for you to scram.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not going to let you go alone!”
“Let me?”
“You got through the tournament. But you need a doctor, Dylan. You nearly—”
“Whoa—medical issues?” Ines broke in. “Should I have my lawyer draft a release form? If you get hurt I don’t want you suing Mee Corp!”
“Dude—are you gonna tell me what this is all about?” Eli asked.
“He’s not supposed to play!” Emma said. “The doctor . . .”
“I’m calling my lawyer,” Ines announced. “What time is it in Zurich?”
“Stop it—everyone!” Dylan shouted. “I’m doing this, okay?”
“Then I’m coming too,” Emma said. “You have to let me help—”
“No!” Dylan barked. “Absolutely not!”
“Dude—c’mon, chill,” Eli said. “She did stop your nosebleed with a pirate doll. That’s got to count for something.”
“She shouldn’t be carrying that thing around! Especially with the trouble it’s caused us!”
“You shouldn’t blame her for that pirate party! That was all on Chad and his goons!”
“Don’t you get it?” Dylan shouted. “I don’t need Viral Emma following me around.”
“Stop calling me that!” Emma shot back. “I’m just trying to help you!”
“I don’t need your help! You act like you can fix everything—but you can’t! You’re not my mom. We never even really knew Mom! She could be some evil crazy person!”
“Maybe I’m not Mom. But some part of me is. I mean, she’s the root of our family tree, right? But the way you’re acting, would you even recognize Mom if you met her? ’Cause I’m your sister, I’m standing right in front of you, and you don’t know me at all.”
“Get out! Go play with your pirate doll!”
Emma seemed close to tears as she stared right at Dylan. “The only journey is the one within. Rainer Maria Rilke. Think about it.” She sulked off, clutching her doll.
Eli shook his head at Dylan disapprovingly. “Harsh.”
Dylan crossed his arms. “Necessary.”
“You want to go get her?” Eli asked.
“Definitely not,” Dylan said. “I don’t care where she goes. Let’s do this.”
Ines’s expression grew serious. “So now it begins,” she said. “To the forty-fourth level and beyond!”
The kids’ avatars appeared. Ines was a metal-winged Iron Lion, Eli was a fire-eyed Rolling Calf, and Dylan, as usual, was himself, but a little more ghostly.
Eli stomped his hooves, throwing up sparks. “So what do the other symbols mean?”
“We’ll have to figure them out en route,” Ines said, her game voice a mix of purrs and growls. “They point the way to the forty-fourth level. If we can