The Rendering
Authors: Joel Naftali
EGMONT
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First published by Egmont USA, 2011
443 Park Avenue South, Suite 806
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © Joel Naftali, 2011
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Naftali, Joel.
The rendering / Joel Naftali.
p. cm.
Summary: Thirteen-year-old Doug relates in a series of blog posts the story of how he saved the world but was falsely branded a terrorist and murderer, forced to fight the evil Dr. Roach and his armored biodroid army with an electronics-destroying superpower of his own.
eISBN: 978-1-60684-276-8
[1. Science fiction. 2. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 3. Blogs—Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.N13354Re 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010036640
CPSIA tracking label information:
Random House Production • 1745 Broadway • New York, NY 10019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
v3.1
IS ANYONE OUT THERE?
Well, I guess
you’re
reading this.
Would you do me a favor and leave a comment saying how you found the blog? You probably searched for my name, except this Web site isn’t even in the top three thousand search results for “Doug Solomon.”
Unlike a hundred other blogs, all written by people pretending they’re me. But I’m the genuine article:
- the kid with the $100,000 reward on his head, even though he’s only got $40 to his name.
- the kid featured on
America’s Most Dangerous
, even though he’s not guilty.
Maybe that’s why you’re here. You think I killed my aunt. You think I’m a fugitive from justice, a homicidal maniac, or a domestic terrorist.
A thirteen-year-old driven crazy by video games.
Or maybe you’re not sure. Maybe you’re one of those conspiracy theorists who don’t believe everything they see on TV.
Maybe you think I’m innocent. That I didn’t bomb the Center, that I didn’t kill anyone.
The only problem is, if you think
that
, you probably also think the explosion originated from an alien mother ship.
Yeah, the only people who believe I’m not a killer also believe in flying saucers.
Well, I’m not an alien and I’m not a psycho or a terrorist.
Sure, I’m living under a fake name now, in an undisclosed location, but I’m just an ordinary kid.
At least, I was.
No comments yet. Maybe because nobody’s reading this.
Or maybe you’re scared.
Maybe you heard about someone who disappeared: a random guy online, a fellow gamer, an aunt. That’s why I’m writing this: to tell you what’s really going on. To explain what really happened to
my
aunt—and to the others who vanished.
Don’t worry about commenting. Nobody can track you from this site.
If they could track you, they would’ve caught
me
in the past few months since my whole life blew up in my face. Good thing
those pictures on
America’s Most Dangerous
were taken when I was in the first grade. And they’re the most recent photos, because all digital images of me were altered or destroyed. For my protection.
Anyway, I’ll post as often as I can. That is, when I’m not running from monkeybeasts or wrestling with my homework.
I guess I’ll begin at the regular spot—the beginning. Back when I was an ordinary kid, my days started like this:
- Wake twenty minutes late and throw on some clothes. Preferably not the same ones as the day before. Well, preferably not
all
the same ones as the day before. - Wait at the bus stop, playing my GamePod. Sit in the middle of the bus. Not in front with nerds, not in back with bullies.
- Math: Beat level twelve while playing under desk. GamePod confiscated.
- English: Stare outside at the playing field.
- Social studies: Revolutionary War again. Still boring after all these years.
- P.E.: Run back and forth on the basketball court, trying to blend in. Shoot twice, score once.
- Art: The kiln goes haywire and melts the sculptures. Pretty cool.
- Science: Nothing goes haywire. Boring.
- Play
Arsenal Five
after school while my best friend researches our social studies project. - Dinner and TV, more games, and bed. Oh, and homework. Maybe.
That was my life, in ten easy steps. Probably not all that different from yours.
At least, back then.
But now I’m posting from an anonymous server and routing my messages across the world a million times. And I left that school; I left that town; I left everything behind. I even have a new name now, one I can’t tell you.
Because I don’t want to look up from my desk in math class one day to see a biodroid swivel its plated head around the room scanning for me.
On the list of things I don’t want, that rates pretty high.
Still no comments, so I can only guess what you want to know. Let’s start with, what’s a biodroid?
Think
vicious
and
armored:
a cross between a pit bull and a tank. Some are the size of your average ninth grader, others the size of your average dump truck.
Oh, and they have missile launchers.
And flamethrowers.
And bad attitudes.
And they’ve hacked into every security camera, database, and computer system in the country.
Before all this started, my biggest problems were passing tests and beating video games, not an army of killer cyborgs hunting me down. But now? I might look like an ordinary kid, but according to VIRUS, I’m Public Enemy Number One.
That’s the bad news.
The good news is I’ve got friends.
Wait, I meant to tell you about my normal life first.
I lived in a small town not too far from a small city in—you
guessed it—a small state. A nice little town exactly like every other nice little town.
With one difference.
Well, you found this blog, so you already know parts of my story. You know where I’m from, and you know about the smoldering crater I left behind.
But you don’t know this: tucked away in the outskirts of my nice little town, behind security fences and minefields, you would’ve found the Biodigital Research Center.
Not
the “Center for Medical Innovation,” despite what the signs said.
Not
an organization that developed cutting-edge medical technology.
Not
a building guarded by layers of security to keep the experimental germs inside.
No, you would’ve found the Biodigital Research Center, funded by a government program so secret that even the CIA didn’t know about it.
Because it should’ve been called the Biodigital
Top Secret Weapons Development
Research Center.