The Leveller - Julia Durango Page 0,48

the woods. We’re going to grandma’s house.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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WYN TAKES THE STAIRS TO MAMA BETI’S BEDROOM BY TWOS AND I am right on his heels. We hardly spoke to each other on the motorcycle ride over here, but as we move to enter the room I pull on his arm to slow him down.

“Wait a minute, Wyn, we need to talk about this first. Tell me what you’re planning to do.”

“The Black, Nixy. You heard Kora. Maybe we can somehow get home through the Black.”

“It’s the somehow part that concerns me,” I say, warily eyeing the door to the once-room, the now-nothing.

Wyn shrugs nonchalantly, though I wonder how much confidence he’s pretending. “We’ll just have to experiment. Tell me what you know about the Black.”

“Very little,” I admit. “Mostly that you probably shouldn’t, you know, experiment with it.” I feel a twinge of guilt as soon as I say this. I’d made a habit of tuning Chang out over the past year whenever he started telling horror stories about the Black. It’s just a game, Chang, I’d say. Those LEGION gearheads are just trying to scare you. Now I wish I’d paid better attention to him, for more reasons than one. “For all I know, the Black is the Loch Ness Monster, with Frankenstein’s head, on a giant spider body. It’s all rumor and hearsay. Dangerous rumor and hearsay. But your father invented the MEEP. Surely you must know more about it than I do.”

Wyn rubs his cheek. “All I’ve ever heard the programmers say about the Black is to leave it alone. Something to do with MEEP coding, and that the Black is actually part of your unconscious mind so the codes don’t work there.”

I peer again at the door into Mama Beti’s room. A wave of shame washes over me as I think of all the beautiful work Wyn did on the other side—work that I ruined, leaving Godzilla-like destruction in my wake.

I turn back to him. “That’s what my friend Chang says—that frequency codes can’t reach you in the Black, and that some gamers have actually fried their short-term memories just by touching it.”

Wyn looks skeptical. “That’s impossible. Regular gamers wouldn’t even have access to the Black. The MEEP protocols, even for custom-built worlds, provide for 360-degree safety walls. The only people who would ever encounter the Black are my dad’s programmers.”

“And us,” I say, pointing to the door.

Wyn shrugs. “I’m not sure what happened here. I’ve never seen the Black in any of my custom worlds before. Maybe it’s because I’ve used so many beta modules here? In any case, the story you heard can’t be true. Regular players wouldn’t have access to the Black.”

“What about unauthorized players?”

Wyn frowns at me. “You mean hackers? Like LEGION? I don’t know, Nixy, and I don’t care. They take their own risks when they break into someone else’s property.”

“You sound like your father,” I say, but without much bite behind it. I can’t summon the nastiness. Not when we’re both still reeling from our encounter with Kora and, well, whatever you call last night.

“Yeah, well, my dad has taken plenty of his own risks and it’s about time for me to take one, too,” Wyn says. “Maybe the Black will reset us back to the Landing . . . or even better, wake us up back at home.”

He pulls away from me and throws the door open. The Black is just on the other side.

It is a gaping, jagged oval taking up the entire door frame. The insides are kinetic, shimmery and spongy . . . like a brain, I guess. Alive, somehow. As before, a shudder of revulsion comes over me when I look into it, a shadow of fear. I can tell Wyn feels it too by the grimace on his face.

“Are you sure we should be messing with this?” I ask.

“Absolutely not, but what choice do we have? Someone may have killed Kora in the real world. What’s to keep them from killing us next?”

“You,” I say. “You’re what’s keeping them from killing us next. As long as you’re alive, they have power over your father, Wyn. If you die, they have nothing.” I pause and shrug. “Me? I suppose I’m pretty expendable at this point. Probably even a liability in their eyes.”

That last point does not sit well with Wyn. “All the more reason to get out of here this very minute. Come on. What have we got to lose?”

“Our minds?” I offer,