Game World. C.J. Farley
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Just then, Dylan heard a bed creak behind him.
Emma was up, clutching the lady pirate doll she always slept with, and she came over to the window. “Don’t tell me you’re going to the tournament!”
“Buenas tardes, señorita,” Eli greeted Emma.
“Hey, Eli,” she replied sleepily.
“Eli—why do you always get all español around my sister?” Dylan griped. “And Emma—have you not learned your lesson about bringing that doll out in public?”
Emma crossed her arms and looked at Dylan. “What about your condition?”
“His seizures?” Eli asked. “He’s a Loopy. We all have issues.”
“You didn’t tell Eli what triggers them?”
“Shut up!” Dylan snapped. “Didn’t you hear the Professor? We might lose the apartment! We need money. If I have a shot at the tournament, I have to take it!”
The cockatoos began to squawk again.
“Then I’m going too,” Emma declared.
“Why? Do you think we need you to watch us?” Dylan complained. “Do you think you’re smarter than us or something?”
“She is smarter than us,” Eli pointed out. “Like multiples. She won the state science fair and the state spelling bee.”
“Shakespeare once said, The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool,” Emma remarked.
“I have no idea what that means,” Dylan said.
“It means she’s coming along,” Eli laughed. “Vamanos, muchachos!”
* * *
Every kid in the city was outside the Mee Convention Center in midtown New Rock and there were loads of TV cameras and reporters too. The scene was like a Hollywood movie opening crossed with a football homecoming. Spotlights crisscrossed the air, and a stream of black limos dropped off VIPs. A line of kids, some with tickets, others hoping to score some, snaked around the outside of the building.
“Disgusting,” Eli seethed, as he and Emma and Dylan got out of a taxi, and the driver got his wheelchair from the trunk. “Look at all the rich kids cutting the line!”
“I guess they got special invites,” Dylan said. “We couldn’t afford tickets even if there were any available. How are we going to get in?”
“There’s a saying that when one door closes, others open,” Emma chimed in.
“And what philosopher said that?” Dylan asked.
“Bob Marley.”
“Well, he had it right,” Eli winked. “And I have a plan.”
Dylan groaned. “Is it better than your science fair plan from last year? We got two weeks detention for that one.”
“Totally undeserved,” Eli replied. “And not one of those armadillos was hurt.”
Eli motioned Dylan and Emma over to the wheelchair entrance; the guard took a look at Eli and waved all three kids inside. “One advantage of being in a wheelchair,” Eli confided, as they slipped into the building.
“Are there others?” Dylan asked.
“Well, the chair is a babe magnet,” Eli smiled.
Emma pretended the chair’s magnetism was drawing her in before laughing.
Dylan, Eli, and Emma wound their way through the corridors until they came to a locked gate. “All the doors here are computer controlled,” Eli said. “I got this.”
He pulled out his laptop.
“I thought Chad trashed that,” Dylan said.
“This computer is waterproof, fireproof, and goon-proof,” Eli boasted. “One of my dad’s start-up companies designed the case. Problem is, there was a bug.”
“A bug? What kind?”
“Lice. Totally infested the factory. So it went bust, like all my dad’s start-ups.”
Eli typed furiously for a second and then, like a pianist finishing a dramatic solo, hit a single key. The gate slid open and the kids were staring into the stands of an arena. The seats were filled with people, but the floor of the arena was empty except for forty-four spotlights shining on forty-four empty spots. A huge screen was set up at one end. As the kids looked for seats in the stands, the lights went down and a roar from the crowd went up.
A man appeared on the screen. He was slightly built, with thick graying hair, tinted lab goggles, and a white lab coat. He was humming a crazy little tune and tinkering at a computer. He stopped, stood up, and looked at the camera. “I am Dr. Mee,” he proclaimed in a thick Korean accent. “I am the founder and CEO of Mee Corp. When I was your age—as young as my little warrior Ines is now—I used to read novels of swords and sorcery. My father criticized me harshly. We lived in Seoul, Korea. He noted, quite rightly, that the books I read were all set in England. He said I should create a new place for fantasy. But I was not a writer, so I started an electronics company. The venture did not go well, at least at first. Then I took a business trip to the island of Jamaica, and there I had an idea. I fell in love with the land and its myths. The motto of Jamaica is Out of Many, One People. I thought, here is a place where I can find the fantasies that all people share. And Xamaica was born.”
Dr. Mee vanished from the screen and the crowd cheered.
Eli looked puzzled. “That was an old speech.”
“How do you know?” Dylan asked.
“Let’s just say I follow the company. Notice how he didn’t say anything about the tournament?”
“First you tell me you hate Xamaica—now you say you follow news about Mee Corp.? What other stuff are you hiding?”
“Me, hiding? Speaking of which, Emma said you figured out what’s behind your seizures. So what is it?”
Dylan didn’t answer.
A new face had appeared on the screen: Ines Mee. The crowd cheered even louder.
“I know, right? On behalf of Mee Corp. and my dear old dad, welcome to the Tournament of Xamaica! We’ve chosen the best forty-four players in New Rock, based on your online scores. Here’s how this is going to work. There’s going to be a countdown, and then everyone can log on. This is a tag team match—you can pair up with friends or someone who is randomly assigned. Whichever pair is left standing is the winner of the Tournament of Xamaica! And I will personally give them the Grand Major Triple-Secret Prize! This is gonna be beyond awesome! Get ready for the forty-four Game Changers!”
A list of disclaimers