Arcade Catastrophe
Page 41
“That protects you?” Lindy asked.
“From simulcry? Absolutely. Do your worst; I’m immune.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Nate said.
“Of course not,” the Hermit scoffed. “You just want to sneak into my home, threaten me with a caustic substance, and take something that belongs to me, on behalf of an enemy.”
“We don’t really work for Jonas,” Nate insisted. “He captured some friends of ours. We just need to get close to him so we can rescue them. We’d be happy to give you back the Gate once we find our friends.”
The Hermit laughed mockingly. “You think giving this Simulcrist the Gate will help your friends? If you can’t stop Jonas White now, how will you stop him once he becomes the most powerful person in the world?”
“What do you mean?” Nate asked.
“It’s the Gate to Uweya!” the Hermit said, as if that explained everything.
Nate had no response.
“You don’t even know what he’s looking for,” the Hermit realized.
“We just want to help our friends,” Lindy said.
“Uweya is the most powerful simulacrum ever devised,” the Hermit said. “If the legends are true, it can influence the entire world!”
“Are you searching for it?” Nate asked.
“Do I look like I’m on an expedition?” the Hermit asked. “I’ve resided here for years.”
“If you’re a Simulcrist, why haven’t you gone after it?” Nate challenged.
“It would require more than the Gate,” the Hermit said. “Uweya? Me? No thank you. Not at present. Perhaps not ever. Although I rest much easier knowing that I have the Gate and no one else does.”
“We need the Gate,” Nate said. “Others are coming. We’re going to get it. Don’t make this difficult.”
“That’s too bad about your friends,” the Hermit sympathized. “I wish nobody any harm. Actually, I wish nobody anything. I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”
“People are coming,” Nate stressed. “Give us the Gate and you can leave quietly. We don’t want to harass you.”
“Yes you do!” the Hermit replied sharply. “You are here to harass me. You are here to steal from me. This conversation is over. Tell Jonas White that he has a new enemy.”
“Don’t make this harder than—” Nate began.
The Hermit picked up a yellowed sheet of parchment and poked three fingers through it. As he did so, with a shriek of metal, the wall behind him tore open, forming a much larger hole of the exact same shape. Casting the parchment aside, the hermit snatched a green backpack, shrugging it on as he dove through the misshapen hole and out of the ship.
Soaring forward, her body horizontal, Lindy streaked out through the hole. Nate paused to pick up the parchment. Tearing the hole in the parchment wider, he watched the hole in the wall expand to match. Nate dropped the parchment and followed Lindy through the widened gap.
Outside, Chris and Risa were flying after Lindy, who glided away from the Striker, roughly thirty feet above the water. She veered away from the nearest shore, pointing down as if tracking unseen prey. Nate accelerated and caught up to Chris.
“Does she really see him?” Chris asked.
“I trust her,” Nate replied. “She has a sixth sense for these things.”
“I have night vision, and I don’t see a thing,” Risa said.
“Exactly,” Nate said. “Either Lindy has him, or we’re out of luck.”
They had caught up to Lindy. She continued to stare down at the impenetrable water. She was flying well below top speed, but fast enough to suggest that the Hermit could swim at an abnormal pace.
“He has to surface eventually,” Chris said.
“I’m not sure,” Nate replied. “He didn’t look entirely human. He had webbed feet and hands.”
“He’s a merman?” Risa asked.
“I don’t know,” Nate said. “Some of the people who hang out with magicians have modifications. They’re called engineered apprentices. I’ve met some strange ones, including a guy full of disgusting jelly. The Hermit might be one of those, but I’m not really sure.”
“You’ve been doing this for a while?” Chris asked.
“I’ve had some experiences,” Nate answered vaguely.
They continued to fly away from the ship. As they neared the center of the waterway, the Hermit surfaced. He held up a small box, opened the lid, and then got out of the way as it rapidly unfolded, inexplicably expanding into a twenty-foot sailboat. The vessel looked old-fashioned, with a single, triangular sail that hung from a slanted mast, rising from the front of the craft to the back.
“What?” Chris exclaimed. “Where’d that come from?”
“I don’t know,” Nate replied.
“Pigeon’s here,” Lindy called. “That’s why the Hermit surfaced. The Subs were closing in from all sides.”
The Hermit boarded the vessel and rummaged in his backpack. Nate suspected the Gate was in the backpack. He swooped down as the Hermit withdrew a small model identical to his sailboat. Arms outstretched, Nate closed in as the Hermit blew on the model’s sail. The mast of the twenty-foot vessel creaked as the sail suddenly filled with wind, propelling the craft briskly forward. Due to the sudden motion, Nate missed his target and pulled up to reassess the situation.
The Hermit moved the rudder of the tiny model, and the larger vessel swerved dramatically. One of the Subs came flying out of the water like a trained dolphin. He had been aiming for the Hermit, but when the sailboat changed direction, he arced harmlessly though the air over part of the stern and plunged back below the surface.
The Hermit continued to blow the sail of his tiny model. The sail of his actual boat strained the mast as the vessel skimmed over the water. Nate and the other Jets had to fly at a good pace to keep up.
Nate glided closer to the others, thirty or forty feet above the bulging sail. “The little model controls the boat,” he said.
“Uh, yeah,” Lindy replied. “I noticed.”
“We want his backpack?” Chris asked.
“That’s my best guess,” Nate said. “It was all he took from the Striker.”
Another Sub, Mindy, surged out of the water. The Hermit swiveled the sail of the model sailboat, and the actual boom lurched sideways, batting the girl away. She splashed back into the water. The sight of the impact made Nathan flinch—the boom had clubbed her hard.
“From simulcry? Absolutely. Do your worst; I’m immune.”
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Nate said.
“Of course not,” the Hermit scoffed. “You just want to sneak into my home, threaten me with a caustic substance, and take something that belongs to me, on behalf of an enemy.”
“We don’t really work for Jonas,” Nate insisted. “He captured some friends of ours. We just need to get close to him so we can rescue them. We’d be happy to give you back the Gate once we find our friends.”
The Hermit laughed mockingly. “You think giving this Simulcrist the Gate will help your friends? If you can’t stop Jonas White now, how will you stop him once he becomes the most powerful person in the world?”
“What do you mean?” Nate asked.
“It’s the Gate to Uweya!” the Hermit said, as if that explained everything.
Nate had no response.
“You don’t even know what he’s looking for,” the Hermit realized.
“We just want to help our friends,” Lindy said.
“Uweya is the most powerful simulacrum ever devised,” the Hermit said. “If the legends are true, it can influence the entire world!”
“Are you searching for it?” Nate asked.
“Do I look like I’m on an expedition?” the Hermit asked. “I’ve resided here for years.”
“If you’re a Simulcrist, why haven’t you gone after it?” Nate challenged.
“It would require more than the Gate,” the Hermit said. “Uweya? Me? No thank you. Not at present. Perhaps not ever. Although I rest much easier knowing that I have the Gate and no one else does.”
“We need the Gate,” Nate said. “Others are coming. We’re going to get it. Don’t make this difficult.”
“That’s too bad about your friends,” the Hermit sympathized. “I wish nobody any harm. Actually, I wish nobody anything. I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask?”
“People are coming,” Nate stressed. “Give us the Gate and you can leave quietly. We don’t want to harass you.”
“Yes you do!” the Hermit replied sharply. “You are here to harass me. You are here to steal from me. This conversation is over. Tell Jonas White that he has a new enemy.”
“Don’t make this harder than—” Nate began.
The Hermit picked up a yellowed sheet of parchment and poked three fingers through it. As he did so, with a shriek of metal, the wall behind him tore open, forming a much larger hole of the exact same shape. Casting the parchment aside, the hermit snatched a green backpack, shrugging it on as he dove through the misshapen hole and out of the ship.
Soaring forward, her body horizontal, Lindy streaked out through the hole. Nate paused to pick up the parchment. Tearing the hole in the parchment wider, he watched the hole in the wall expand to match. Nate dropped the parchment and followed Lindy through the widened gap.
Outside, Chris and Risa were flying after Lindy, who glided away from the Striker, roughly thirty feet above the water. She veered away from the nearest shore, pointing down as if tracking unseen prey. Nate accelerated and caught up to Chris.
“Does she really see him?” Chris asked.
“I trust her,” Nate replied. “She has a sixth sense for these things.”
“I have night vision, and I don’t see a thing,” Risa said.
“Exactly,” Nate said. “Either Lindy has him, or we’re out of luck.”
They had caught up to Lindy. She continued to stare down at the impenetrable water. She was flying well below top speed, but fast enough to suggest that the Hermit could swim at an abnormal pace.
“He has to surface eventually,” Chris said.
“I’m not sure,” Nate replied. “He didn’t look entirely human. He had webbed feet and hands.”
“He’s a merman?” Risa asked.
“I don’t know,” Nate said. “Some of the people who hang out with magicians have modifications. They’re called engineered apprentices. I’ve met some strange ones, including a guy full of disgusting jelly. The Hermit might be one of those, but I’m not really sure.”
“You’ve been doing this for a while?” Chris asked.
“I’ve had some experiences,” Nate answered vaguely.
They continued to fly away from the ship. As they neared the center of the waterway, the Hermit surfaced. He held up a small box, opened the lid, and then got out of the way as it rapidly unfolded, inexplicably expanding into a twenty-foot sailboat. The vessel looked old-fashioned, with a single, triangular sail that hung from a slanted mast, rising from the front of the craft to the back.
“What?” Chris exclaimed. “Where’d that come from?”
“I don’t know,” Nate replied.
“Pigeon’s here,” Lindy called. “That’s why the Hermit surfaced. The Subs were closing in from all sides.”
The Hermit boarded the vessel and rummaged in his backpack. Nate suspected the Gate was in the backpack. He swooped down as the Hermit withdrew a small model identical to his sailboat. Arms outstretched, Nate closed in as the Hermit blew on the model’s sail. The mast of the twenty-foot vessel creaked as the sail suddenly filled with wind, propelling the craft briskly forward. Due to the sudden motion, Nate missed his target and pulled up to reassess the situation.
The Hermit moved the rudder of the tiny model, and the larger vessel swerved dramatically. One of the Subs came flying out of the water like a trained dolphin. He had been aiming for the Hermit, but when the sailboat changed direction, he arced harmlessly though the air over part of the stern and plunged back below the surface.
The Hermit continued to blow the sail of his tiny model. The sail of his actual boat strained the mast as the vessel skimmed over the water. Nate and the other Jets had to fly at a good pace to keep up.
Nate glided closer to the others, thirty or forty feet above the bulging sail. “The little model controls the boat,” he said.
“Uh, yeah,” Lindy replied. “I noticed.”
“We want his backpack?” Chris asked.
“That’s my best guess,” Nate said. “It was all he took from the Striker.”
Another Sub, Mindy, surged out of the water. The Hermit swiveled the sail of the model sailboat, and the actual boom lurched sideways, batting the girl away. She splashed back into the water. The sight of the impact made Nathan flinch—the boom had clubbed her hard.
