Wormhole Pirates on Orbis (13 page)

“I’m not going,” Theodore protested.

“I’ll go,” Ketheria said.

Theodore was outnumbered and he knew it. “Fine. I’ll go, then, but I’ll only watch.”

I needed their support. I felt bad for betraying Charlie, especially after the care he took with the swimming lessons, but what would one game hurt? Besides, I desperately needed the experience. I called up Vairocina.

“Wait!” Max hissed. “Maybe you should put the forged registration for the pro league in the computer yourself.”

But Vairocina was my friend. “I trust her.”

“It’s better to be safe,” Theodore agreed.

Vairocina was already here. “Hello, everyone,” she greeted us.

“Vairocina, how does a Citizen register a player for Quest-Nest, for the pro conclave?” I asked her.

“It’s a simple form filed in the arena’s archives.”

“Thanks, that’s great.”

Vairocina was looking elsewhere as she spoke to us, probably multitasking some event for the Keepers. “Is that all?”

I looked at Max; the warning was in her eyes. I could do it myself, I thought. It would be cleaner. “Yes, thank you,” I said, smiling, and Vairocina disappeared. “At least I know where to start now.”

“But when?” Theodore asked.

“I really don’t feel like going to school next cycle, do you?”

Theodore rolled off the crystal bench and moaned. “I know we’re gonna get in trouble for this.”

“If you keep acting like that, we will,” Max scowled.

Nugget was a bit of a problem at the start of the spoke as he insisted on going to school this time. Charlie stepped in and smoothed the whole thing over. It only made me feel guiltier for what I was about to do. Once we reached the Illuminate, the four of us lagged behind the other students until we were the only ones left in the plaza.

“You guys ready?” I said.

They each nodded, and we slipped back toward the light chutes.

“The code,” Max groaned. “We don’t know the code to the arena.”

“943-23-555.” Theodore shrugged as we gawked. “I like numbers. I watched Charlie punch them in.”

“Then you go last and punch in for everyone else,” I said.

When we arrived at the arena, we moved quickly toward the lifts that led to the elevated dome.

“We need to stay out of sight until I register us. Any Citizen can read our skins and know we’re not supposed to be here,” I warned.

“Which way?” Max asked.

“Follow them,” Ketheria said, pointing.

Approaching the arena was a sleek, humanoid creature towing four stout and muscular aliens of different heights, each with its own iron collar. The knudniks were dressed in nothing but charcoal-colored hoods, their huge naked bellies sagging in front of them. The Citizen wore a contrasting hood of black material that clung tightly to her head and covered her shoulders. Her Citizen emblem was a jewel pinned to her snug dress, which puddled on the ground around her, dragging as she walked. Her porcelain arms poked out from the material and clutched four rusted chains, one for each of her knudniks.

“Move!” she barked, and yanked the chains.

“Pick someone else,” Theodore begged.

“No. She’ll take you where you want to go,” Ketheria assured us.

There were no light chutes outside the arena to take us to the upper levels. The Citizen dragged her knudniks to a glass pod that navigated one of the arena’s slanted exterior supports. There were four supports in total. Each one had its own pod. The alien filled her pod with the hooded creatures and waited for us to board.

“We’ll take the next one,” Max called out to her, and quickly directed us toward an empty pod.

“I’m not sure about this, JT,” Theodore murmured.

“You never are,” Max reminded him.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Once we’re registered, no one will bother us. It will be as if Charlie had set it up by himself.”

We tumbled into the pod and sat down. The door materialized, and the pod slid upward. I stared out from the pod and looked out over Orbis 3, growing beneath me. I could see the edge of the ring on both sides and then the blackness of space. Charlie told me once that the atmosphere on each ring was the thinnest at the edges. I wondered if I would ever be free to roam these rings and see it for myself. Before I started feeling sorry for myself again, I reminded myself of the knudniks chained to the Citizen.
This view will do just fine,
I thought.

When we emptied the pod, the alien was already dragging her property toward a circular counter under a low-hanging blue crystal light. Behind the counter stood a tall alien who appeared to be mostly composed of metal, except for the jaundiced skin stretched over his skull. His arms were like metallic bones, but not shiny and new, more old and weathered-looking. Cables jutted out from the back of his head and attached to different places on his spine. The alien wore a thick red apron and was so tall that he bent over even when the tall female approached.

“Hello, Tinker,” she called out to him.

“What do you have here?” Tinker said admiringly. When he spoke, wheels and wires in his back began to spin and move.

“I want to register some new players. I think they might have a chance to place in the Chancellor’s Challenge this rotation. The big one is quite strong,” she boasted.

Tinker stood tall and scrutinized the biggest alien, caressing the yellowed skin on his chin with long metal fingers.

“Ah, this looks like a fine team. I will be sure to make a wager, but just a small one,” he replied, smiling. Tinker extended his hand, and I noticed his fingers were really an assembly of metal tools and knives, some at least thirty centimeters long. Deftly, he lifted the knudnik’s hood. The alien blinked and turned his head from the light. By accident, his eyes caught mine, and for a brief moment we were both locked in a stare. The knudnik’s eyes were filled with fear and remorse. It wasn’t the first time I had seen this on the Rings of Orbis: knudniks trying to forget the life they left, or struggling with some command barked at them from an incomprehensible Guarantor. I wondered what the alien saw in my eyes now.

“Do it now, JT. While he’s busy,” Theodore whispered, snapping me out of my stare.

We slunk to the far side of the counter, and I shuffled as close as I could to Tinker’s O-dat. With a push, I was inside his computer searching for the files that would register me in the Citizens’ League. I called up the form from the central computer, and it appeared in front of me instantly. The form was simple except for one tiny detail. Every Citizen was assigned a personal data key for their transactions. What was Charlie’s code? I had no idea. Was it a number? A genetic
ID
? What? I called out for Charlie Norton’s data key but nothing came. Where would it be? I thought about giving up right there. I didn’t want to do this to Charlie, but if I didn’t, I would be forced to take on Dop without ever playing here on Orbis. I played a million times on the
Renaissance;
shouldn’t that be enough? For me, it wasn’t.

“Vairocina?”

She appeared inside the central computer.

“Is something wrong?”

“I need some help. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I need my Guarantor’s data key.”

Vairocina just looked at me. “That is not allowed.” She frowned. “You would be severely punished.”

“I need to play Quest-Nest,” I challenged her. “I need to practice.”

“Please don’t ask me to do this. I know I owe you my life, but I would be taking yours if I fulfilled this request.”

She was right. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and now I was trying to involve her.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Please don’t tell anyone I asked you.”

“I won’t,” she said, and slipped away through the portal. I pulled out of the computer.

“All set?” Max asked.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I need Charlie’s data key and I can’t get it,” I answered honestly.

“Well, that solves everything. Let’s go home,” Theodore said, his tone full of relief.

I watched the Citizen as she registered her players.
I was so close,
I thought.
I was right there!
Defeated, angry, I turned for the pods.

Standing in front of me was one tough-looking alien. “Where is your Guarantor?” the alien demanded. “Tromaine is restricted to authorized knudniks only.”

The alien was the about the same size as Charlie, maybe even a little bigger. His head was bald and scarred, and half of his left ear was missing, like someone had lopped it off with a knife. Over his right eye was a piece of thin crystal, attached by ridged wires that went straight through his skin. I could see flickers of numbers and symbols through the crystal, so I guessed it was some sort of screen.

I couldn’t respond.

“Well?” the alien prompted. His eyes, or rather,
eye,
remained fixed on my face.

This
thing
blocking my escape to the pods had me in a trance. I wanted to run, to get back to Charlie, but I couldn’t stop staring. Three clumps of hair, wrapped in gold wire and strung with small red rubies, protruded from his jawline. He was dressed in rags of leather and metal, and he carried a helmet. Behind him stood two more aliens, each as terrifying to me.

“We were told to meet our Guarantor here,” I blurted out, searching his face to see if he bought my excuse.

“If you’re lying, you will be punished. Severely,” threatened the alien.

Ketheria came from behind and stood next to me. She cocked her head a little to the side, staring at the humanoid. He mesmerized her, too. I pulled her back, but she held tight.

“You’re not a Citizen,” she declared. “I can’t tell what you are, but you’re not a Citizen.”

“Ketheria!” Theodore hissed.

The big alien reached his paw slowly toward my sister. Instinctually, I stepped in front of her. The alien grinned. Max tugged at my shirt and I brushed her away. She did it again, and I turned toward her. Max was bulging her eyes and nodding her head to the side. What did she want?

“Behind him,” she whispered.

The big alien heard her. “Him?” He reached for the smaller alien. “Buzz, come here.”

I recognized Buzz instantly. It was the alien we saw stealing the stridling, the one we saw playing Quest-Nest — the wormhole pirate. That meant the big guy . . . was the tracker. I jerked my head back toward him.

“You recognize us now?” he asked.

“We saw you . . . play,” I muttered. I didn’t dare mention the stridling.

“You were good,” Max added confidently.

“Who are you?” Ketheria asked.

I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off Buzz. He was lean and muscular and just as battle-worn as the big guy.
Is the big one a wormhole pirate, too?

“He is Cap Ceesar,” Buzz said. “Best tracker on the rings.” Instantly I knew where Buzz got his name. It was as if some sort of electronic vibration amplified Buzz’s voice. It was creepy, to say the least. Max even cringed when he spoke.

“You get used to it,” Ceesar assured us.

“Hopefully, we won’t have the time,” Ketheria said. Her voice was icy, full of contempt.

Where did that come from?
I wondered. Ketheria was always more passive than this. For some reason, she really didn’t like these guys. But these guys played in the pro conclave. I didn’t see any Citizen insignia, so I could only assume someone was sponsoring them. Could he help me?

I took my shot and said, “We want to play in the Citizens’ League, but my Guarantor won’t let me.”

“JT!” Max exclaimed.

“Great game, isn’t it?” Ceesar said, relishing every word. “You’d like to play, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

“But we can’t, not in this league,” Theodore reminded us.

“You can play against us,” he offered.

They were good, really good — but even if we lost, who cared?

“You can arrange that?” I asked.

“If you’re not afraid. Are you afraid?” Ceesar taunted.

“They’re too good, JT,” Max whispered, but I shrugged her off. This was my chance to understand my connection to the wormhole pirate and get experience in the game. The answer was obvious — to me, at least.

“We can play now,” I suggested.

“Let me see what I can do,” Ceesar said, and marched toward Tinker. We all followed.

“Here for some more practice, Ceesar?” Tinker asked.

“Yes, but I need your help.”

Tinker did not reply. He waited to see what Ceesar needed first.

“I wanted to play him,” he said, pointing to me.

“How is he registered?” Tinker swung an O-dat toward him.

“He’s not.”

“Knudniks, then? Who’s the Guarantor?”

“Not here.”

“Citizen?” Tinker’s eye lifted suspiciously.

“None,” Ceesar replied. “See my problem?”

“It’s not allowed. You know that. In fact, they are not allowed to even be here. I could be punished for even speaking with you,” he said, turning toward us.

Ceesar reached inside his ragged jacket and pulled out a glowing purple crystal. I had never seen a crystal like that on the Rings of Orbis. Tinker stared at it, then looked at Ceesar. Tinker wanted that crystal; that was obvious. His eyes glowed and followed every twitch of Ceesar’s hand. Tinker reached for the crystal and stopped when he saw my sister. He stared at her headpiece.

“A telepath?” he whispered. “Come here, child.”

Ketheria did not hesitate and stepped forward. Tinker raised his huge metal hands and gently pushed her hair away from the amber crystal on her forehead. Tinker was so precise with his mechanical hands that he never touched the device, only her hair.

“Beautiful,” he admired. “Crafted by an artist. I pray you are worthy of it.” Tinker snatched Ceesar’s crystal and tucked it into his apron. “I will need a Citizen,” he said, returning to the O-dat.

“Inai Gi Athooyi,” Ceesar replied. “He will appreciate this.”

Athooyi?
The Citizen who spoke through the hole in his chest? Charlie had warned me about him. This alien knew Athooyi?

“Shall we register all of you?” Ceesar asked turning toward us.

“No,” Theodore gasped.

“Yes,” Max said, beaming.

Ketheria said nothing.