The Candy Shop War, Vol. 2: Arcade Catastrophe Page 14

  “No magician wants to broadcast the existence of magic,” Ziggy said.

  “And no magician with an agenda would smile at disloyalty,” Victor added. “Pigeon, after you hand over your special item, we should probably limit contact to emergencies. He may be able to watch you.”

  “You’ve given us some terrific leads, kid,” Ziggy said. “Keep watching him. Try not to get into hot water. If you do, let us know.”

  “We prepped some items for you,” Victor said, holding out his palm. In it rested five buttons. “Share these with your friends. Keep one on you, and we should be able to track you. If you get into the kind of trouble where you need us to come immediately, break it.”

  “Thanks,” Pigeon said.

  “These too,” Ziggy said, handing over a wooden box. Inside Pigeon found six sleek pistols. “Tranquilizer guns. Custom-made, top of the line. Very accurate and high-powered for pistols. Each holds six darts. Semiautomatic. There are several spare darts in the box. Share them, and don’t hesitate to use them in emergencies.”

  “This is great,” Pigeon said.

  “Do you have anything for dogs?” Diego asked. “Magic collar? Body armor?”

  “The dog can talk,” Ziggy said.

  “Brain Feed,” Pigeon explained. “Mr. Stott makes it. Diego is definitely on our side.”

  “Sorry, pooch,” Victor said, scratching Diego behind the ears. “We’re all out of doggie gear.”

  “I won’t hold it against you,” Diego said. “Especially if you keep scratching.”

  “You two should beat it,” Ziggy suggested. “The longer you stay near us, the more danger you’re in. Jonas White will be keeping tabs on you, one way or another.”

  “Thanks for the gear,” Pigeon said. “You think we can take these guys down?”

  “We had better,” Victor said. “For all our sakes.”

  *****

  Nate had decided on Zombie Nightmare Apocalypse IV as his special object. He had considered some trophies, a sock monkey that used to share his bed, and a few of the Zelda games. But in the end, the overall mayhem and general replay value of ZNA IV had won out.

  He waited next to Lindy near an EMPLOYEES ONLY door. Chris and Risa had yet to show up.

  “You brought a stuffed flamingo?” Nate asked.

  She held it up. The toy had more expression than Nate would expect on a bird. “It was the first thing Mr. Stott got for me,” Lindy explained. “I don’t have many favorite possessions. I hope I’m attached enough to it. I guess we’ll find out. You brought a video game?”

  “Yeah,” Nate said. “I really like it. There are so many different ways to take out the zombies. You can win each level using lots of different strategies.”

  “I don’t get video games,” Lindy admitted. “Wouldn’t you rather actually go do something than just pretend on a screen?”

  “Where am I going to actually fight zombies?”

  “Is that something you’d want to do?”

  “Not in real life. But in a video game it rules. That’s the point. You can do crazy stuff, but nobody actually gets hurt.”

  “Hey, guys,” Chris said, walking up with Risa. “What’s up?”

  “Cleon told us to wait here,” Lindy said.

  “Fair warning,” Risa muttered. “This part will be a little creepy.”

  “What do you mean?” Nate asked.

  “We can’t explain,” Chris replied. “You’ll see.”

  “Have you had any flying dreams yet?” Risa asked.

  “I did,” Lindy said. “I was up in the clouds.”

  “I had a good one last night,” Risa said. “I was in a canyon in the desert, rescuing frogs.”

  “Rescuing frogs?” Chris chuckled.

  “I don’t know,” Risa replied defensively. “It was a dream. They were stuck up on these cliffs and I had to put them in a lake.”

  “Were they slimy?” Lindy asked.

  “Not really. They were cute.”

  “That’s the worst dream ever,” Chris said.

  “I haven’t had one yet,” Nate said. “A flying dream. At least not that I remember. Not since I’ve actually flown, I mean.”

  The EMPLOYEES ONLY door opened and Cleon waved the four of them inside. He led them through some industrial halls to a different room than last time. He opened a door and extended an arm, inviting the kids inside.

  Nate entered, then froze, staring at himself and Lindy rendered as life-sized wax figures. The wax sculptures flanked a desk where Jonas White sat waiting.

  “Come inside,” Jonas invited. “Have you ever viewed yourselves in three dimensions? Most people have not. Chris and Marisa had a chance on another occasion. Today Nate and Lindy get a turn.”

  Nate approached his wax duplicate. It was exactly his height, and it wore the same outfit he had sported the last time he conversed with Jonas. He walked around it, getting a view from all sides. Lindy scrutinized her wax twin as well. Chris and Risa shared an amused look.

  “What do you think?” Jonas asked.

  “We should mass-produce these,” Nate said, tentatively touching the wax cheek. “I bet the ladies would love one.”

  “Sadly, our plans do not involve placing your likeness in houses across the country,” Jonas said.

  “Why did you make these?” Lindy asked.

  “Every magician has his specialties,” Jonas said humbly. “I am a Simulcrist.”

  “A what now?” Nate asked.

  “A simulacrum is a representation of something,” Jonas explained. “A scarecrow, for example, is a simulacrum of a man used to frighten birds. These wax figures are simulacra of you two.”

  “You made them?” Lindy asked.

  Jonas held up a hand and affectionately considered his fingers. “I do have that talent, but alas, I lack the speed to have created these lifelike sculptures on such short notice. My apprentices produced them. They have a remarkable aptitude for working with wax. Nate, Lindy, the two of you will be the latest addition to my collection.”

  “Why?” Nate probed.

  “Do you suspect that my reasons are more than purely aesthetic?” Jonas asked. “If so, you would be correct. As a Simulcrist, I wish to establish a connection between you and your simulacrum. This connection will allow me to exact retribution should you elect to betray me.”

  “Like a voodoo doll?” Nate asked.

  “In theory, I suppose,” Jonas said. “Although there is no voodoo involved. I’m honestly not sure whether voodoo actually works.”

  “But this does?” Lindy asked.

  “Most assuredly,” Jonas said. “These simulacra will help ensure that you work with me, not against me. I have entrusted you with powerful enhancers. If you serve me faithfully, the simulacra will never be used to harm you. In fact, they can be used to help you. But if you choose not to serve me honorably—well, you should probably surrender your positions as Jets now and save all of us considerable unpleasantness.”

  “This is why you need the items?” Nate asked.

  “Nothing gets by you,” Jonas sneered. “The items will help establish the desired connection between you and your simulacrum. What have you brought me?”

  Nate held up his video game. “Zombie Nightmare Apocalypse IV.”

  “May I handle it?” Jonas asked.

  Nate handed it over. Jonas closed his eyes, clutching it firmly. “I have sensed stronger connections, but this will suffice.”

  “How do I know you’ll give it back?” Nate asked.

  Jonas grinned. “I’ve been around a long time. If I kept every simulacrum I made, I’d need to store them in a football stadium. Once you have loyally served your purpose, your game will be returned, the connection between you and your simulacrum will be severed, and the simulacrum will be recycled.”

  “Could I keep mine as a souvenir?” Nate tried.

  “We could discuss the possibility when the time comes,” Jonas said. “I assume you intend to proceed? If either of you finds this
arrangement unacceptable, our relationship ends here.”

  Nate found it totally unacceptable. But if he walked away, how would he ever find John and Mozag? He glanced over at Lindy, who stared back at him uncertainly.

  “Just do it,” Chris said. “We did. It’s no big deal. Are you really going to walk away from flying after all that work earning the stamp?”

  “What can you do to us with the simulacrum?” Nate inquired.

  “All sorts of thing,” Jonas said slowly. “The magicians who pioneered the manufacture of simulacra did so to help people. Simulacra were principally used to reduce pain or alleviate the symptoms of certain illnesses. Years of experimentation have shown that simulacra can be quite versatile. In addition to simulcry, I have also studied acupuncture for decades. The combination can produce some fascinating results.”

  “You could hurt us?” Nate said.

  Jonas grinned like a hangman who loved his job. “I could certainly harm you, yes. Inflicting pain is only one of my options. I could kill you. I could lower your inhibitions. I could make you thirsty. I could make you dizzy. I could create rushes of pleasure that would leave you pleading for more. Or I could simply cure your back pain.”

  “That’s a lot of power to hand over to a stranger,” Lindy said.

  “So is the power of flight,” Jonas argued. “So are the secrets I will share with you once the treasure hunt begins. The simulacra merely bring our shared risks into balance.”

  Nate hated the idea of giving an enemy so much power over him. Even if he was smart and careful, it could end very badly. He wondered whether John would do it for him? He was pretty sure the answer was yes.

  “All right,” Nate said. “But you had better keep your word.”

  Jonas rubbed the video game between his hands. “If I failed to keep my promise as explained, the connection would weaken considerably. Of course, if you neglect to honor your end of the agreement, I will be within my rights to exact whatever revenge I deem appropriate.”

  “Okay,” Lindy said. “I’ll do it too.”

  Jonas accepted the pink flamingo. He held it pensively for a moment. “This will do.” He rose carefully. “Congratulations on becoming the newest additions to my waxworks. Now, who would like to refresh their stamps?”

  Chapter Twelve

  The Hermit

  After the weekend, Todd and Cleon showed up at the training facility unannounced. Nate and the Jets were playing catch using baseball mitts when the two men entered. The appearance marked the first time any Arcadeland employee had visited the facility.

  All activity came to a halt. The four clubs were now all filled. A large girl had joined the Tanks, three girls had joined the Racers, and two boys had joined the Subs. Even so, demand for the stamps supposedly continued. None of the stamps were on display as prizes anymore, but Nate had heard that a couple of kids had already been turned away from attempting to claim some.

  Todd motioned for the clubs to gather to him. The Jets swooped down, arriving before all but the Racers. The Subs got there last, totally dry despite having come from the pool.

  “You’ve all heard about the treasure hunt,” Cleon announced. “The first phase is about to begin. It’ll pit the Jets against the Subs, with the competition beginning at sundown.”

  “What about us?” Roman asked.

  “Tanks and Racers have to sit this one out,” Todd said. “You’ll get your chance next time. If the Tanks or Racers interfere in this phase, they risk disqualification.”

  “We’d lose our stamps?” Trevor checked.

  “At least,” Cleon said. “If you’re going to believe anything I tell you, believe this: you don’t want Mr. White mad at you. Make him proud instead. Life can be sweet when he’s pleased.”

  “What are we doing?” Nate asked.

  Cleon pointed to Nate as if he had asked the right question. “The Jets or the Subs must secure an item called the Gate from a secretive wanderer known as the Hermit. The Hermit is notoriously difficult to find, but Mr. White has already taken care of that for you. The Hermit currently resides aboard the USS Striker, a destroyer mothballed after World War II.”

  “Mothballed?” Risa asked.

  “Warships held in reserve,” Pigeon said. “They’re equipped for service but not in use. Many eventually get sold as scrap.”

  “Nice job, professor,” Cleon said. “The Striker can be found on one of the waterways adjacent to the San Francisco Bay, not too far from here. I brought a map for each of the two clubs involved.”

  Pigeon collected the map for the Subs, and Chris took the map for the Jets.

  “This assignment may take some finesse,” Todd said. “The Hermit’s a wily old dude. He won’t give up the Gate easily. He has been known to bargain when cornered. He’ll probably try to flee. If he gets away, it will be a major annoyance to find him again. In that case, both clubs will lose their stamps.”

  “What does the Gate look like?” Lindy wondered.

  “We’re unsure,” Cleon said. “From sketchy descriptions, we assume it will be a model of a gate. Should be small enough to carry.”

  “Tell the Hermit you want the Gate to Uweya,” Todd advised. “He’ll know what you’re after.”

  “We know he has it with him?” Lindy asked.

  “The Hermit moves around a lot,” Cleon said. “But he keeps his treasures close. Either he’ll have it on him or he’ll know where to find it.”

  Todd held up a small drawstring bag. “Each club will get some of this to help you. It’s called Finder’s Dust. Just sprinkle it in the air, and the particles will be drawn to any magical items in the vicinity.”

  “The effect has limits,” Cleon clarified. “It’ll find objects in a small room, but it won’t travel down the street and around the corner. Use a little at a time, focusing on suspicious areas.”

  “The club that brings the Gate into Arcadeland wins the competition,” Todd said. “It doesn’t matter who does what along the way. We don’t care who works the hardest, who finds the Gate, or who snatches it. All we care about is who brings it to us. The losers will surrender their stamps to the winners.”

  “These rules give the Jets an unfair advantage,” Pigeon said. “There’s no river near Arcadeland.”

  “We’ve explained the task,” Cleon said. “The rest is up to you. Meet here at sundown. You’ll depart once it’s dark.”

  “Wait,” Pigeon complained. “If we leave from here, the Jets will easily beat us to the ship. That will give them an even bigger advantage.”

  Todd shrugged. “Mr. White made the rules. You Subs are quick in the water. If I were you, I’d start looking for the nearest waterways that link to your destination. You guys have the rest of the day to prepare.”

  “I recommend searching the lockers in here,” Cleon said. “You’re welcome to take any gear you find. Just bring it back.”

  He and Cleon left the room.

  “I wanted to take on the Jets,” Roman complained loudly.

  “The target is a ship out on the water,” Summer said. “Jets and Subs probably make the most sense.”

  “I guess we’ll get our chance,” Roman said.

  “Unless the Racers beat you first,” Trevor said.

  “We should plan,” Chris said, looking at the map.

  The different clubs started moving away from one another. Nate conferred with the other Jets, but the planning didn’t impress him. Basically, they would fly to the place on the map and see what happened, adapting as necessary.

  Nate glided over to where the Subs were getting back into the water. “Hey, Pidge.”

  Drew, another of the Subs, paused beside Pigeon, his eyes on Nate. Pigeon pointed to the pool. “Go ahead. Let me talk to Nate for a second.”

  Drew obeyed reluctantly. Nate stood near Pigeon, and they spoke with their voices lowered.

  “Do you want me to throw it?” Pigeon murmured. “I could sabotage us.”

  “No,” Nate said, somewhat surprised by th
e offer. “I was thinking we should both just do our best to win. I’m not sure it matters which of us stays in.”

  “It could matter a lot,” Pigeon replied quietly. “I’m good at planning, but you’re more clutch in emergencies. Plus, there are two of us on the Jets. Wouldn’t it make more sense to keep you and Lindy involved?”

  “Might make more sense to get her uninvolved,” Nate said. “We still don’t know if Jonas recognized her, or what he’s planning if he did.”

  “I’m not sure she’s any safer either way,” Pigeon said. “If Jonas knows her secret, whether or not she’s in one of his clubs probably won’t matter. Look, I won’t try hard to blow it for the Subs, but I won’t go out of my way to win, either. Although it would be kind of fun to fly.”

  “We probably shouldn’t talk for too long,” Nate said.

  “Right. We might not get a chance to chat more before sunset. Good luck.”

  “You too. Be careful. We don’t know much about what we’re up against.” Nate flew away to rejoin the Jets, and Pigeon dove into the water.

  *****

  As he soared away from the training center, Nate debated whether to switch on his night vision. Below him, the world had been simplified into a grid of lights. The Jets flew well above the ground, hopefully high enough to avoid attention from people down below. Their black clothing helped them blend with the night sky. They all wore protective helmets, elbow pads, and knee pads.

  Nate had brought the tranquilizer pistol that Pigeon had passed along from the Battiatos. Lindy had hers as well. Although the helmets were equipped for night vision, the moon was probably bright enough to help them get the job done. Besides, Lindy flew beside Nate, and he knew that she could see in the dark much better than any night vision device.

  As planned, they flew to the freeway, then followed the opposing streams of headlights and taillights toward the first junction. Freeways would lead them most of the way to the desired inlet. Chris held the map.

  Chris kept increasing their speed until they were moving faster than the cars below. The air remained warm after an uncomfortably hot day. It washed over Nate like a gale as he sped forward. Even at such a high speed, flying caused him no physical exhaustion.