He spun, then slammed into the side of the pillar, arms and legs spread wide, his hair, his elbows, his knuckles, his back, his legs—all held tight to its almost rubbery surface. He’d expected fierce heat, but instead it was cool and tingly with power.

Then Michael flew toward the sky.

Chapter 8: The Explorers

The world was wind and sound.

Michael could barely keep his eyes open as his body rocketed upward with the shaft of purple light. The roar filled his ears, and the air beat at his head and face and clothes, trying to rip him free, but he felt as if his body had melded with the surface.

He turned his head as much as he could and looked down. The ground was far away, the air thinning, making it hard to breathe; the curvature of the Earth was coming into view. He knew it was just a program, but it all felt so real, like he was about to be launched into outer space—like he was being launched into outer space. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the code, but it was either blocked or he was too panicked to concentrate.

He opened his eyes and looked up. Above him he could see Bryson—the soles of his feet, at least. But there was no sign of Sarah; she had to be above Bryson. Michael tried to lift his right hand, but it held tight to the beam of light, the skin around his knuckles pulled taut. He couldn’t think of any possible explanation for what this thing was, but it hit him that he shouldn’t lift his hand off even if he could. A very long fall would be on the other end of a move like that.

Suddenly everything around him changed.

Not the shaft itself, which was still pulsing and ascending at impossible speeds. But Michael’s surroundings abruptly … altered. And the shift made his head spin. At first there was a sharp turn, not so much of the beam but the world, moving below them until they were no longer rocketing skyward but running parallel to the ground miles away. He flew like a streaking missile, buffeted by wind and noise.

Michael opened his mouth to shout at his friends, see if they were okay. Air filled his lungs, dried his tongue before he could get a word out. Not that they would have been able to hear him. He twisted his neck again, straining to see as far as possible. Ahead, in the distance, a huge black rectangle had appeared, and it was growing bigger the closer they got. As he approached he could see that the purple shaft of light intersected the darkness, then continued on to who knew where.

Michael tried again to open his mouth, this time screaming, though he could barely hear himself. A few seconds later, they hit the rectangular opening and the world disappeared. He could no longer see the purple brilliance of the beam, even though he felt it. There was only pitch darkness.

Silence came with the darkness. Michael tried to scream again, but it was useless. He was blind and deaf and beginning to panic. He thrashed, struggling to free himself from the invisible bonds, but to no avail. His skin hurt where it adhered to the ray of power, and he had to force himself to calm down, worried he might rip his virtual body to shreds.

A light appeared, somewhere far ahead, and the black turned bright once more. As soon as it did, the purple beam reappeared. White tendrils of electricity arced and flashed along the shaft’s surface, the light behind it still pulsing. The sound of wind came back, and the feel of it. The brightness ahead turned into another opening, growing, coming at them. And then they were through it.

A mountain range appeared below them, its rocky peaks covered in brilliant white snow, sparkling in sunlight. An evergreen forest nestled in the valley, and a river wound through it like a snake, glinting and sparkling. Everything was crystal clear, the air cool and crisp, clean and smelling of pine. Michael didn’t understand why they’d been taken to such a place or who had done it. Was this Kaine’s grand way of getting them alone?

Another dark square appeared in the distance, and soon they passed into it. Just like before, all senses were cut off, and once again panic struck him. He thrashed, trying to break free of the strange hold. When that did no good, he used the moment of stillness to close his eyes and once more tried to penetrate the code.

At least this time he could see something, though it was blurry. He reached for it mentally, but the harder he strained, the more elusive the numbers and letters became. He swore to himself he wouldn’t give up, that he’d just keep trying to program them free. He could do this. If anyone could do it, he could.

Finally, he sensed a light behind his eyes just as the rush of wind hit his body, its roar pounding his ears. He looked to see that they’d come out of the darkness again, this time above a vast ocean, its waters churning with a storm. The beam shone behind him once more. Rain slashed down from the sky and lightning lit up the grayness in flashes, followed by the rumbles of thunder. He couldn’t tell how high up the rocketing beam flew, but it felt like they were suspended just below the clouds. Whitecaps marked the huge waves below as they crashed into each other.

A black rectangle appeared; the purple beam headed its way.

Darkness.

They came out into a strange world of dull colors and rain. Pyramids dotted the earth below, the downpour running down their sloped sides, creating rivers in the sand. The land was desolate—there were no people, no trees, nothing besides the pyramids and the rain. Michael thought he recognized the place from a game he’d played years earlier, but he was too exhausted to inspect it more closely. He was soaked. His body ached, his skin hurt, his mind was shutting down. Another attempt to scan the code proved pointless.

Darkness.

Jungles stretched below him, hundreds of shades of green and boiling heat. Monkeys swinging through the trees, stirring the mist that hung in the sweltering atmosphere. There was a clearing filled with huge boxy machines covered with weapons turrets; there were flashes of lights and thunderous sound. Mechanized soldiers ran along the ground, shooting each other with bright red lasers.

Darkness.

A city at dawn, skyscrapers nearly close enough to touch, a forest of concrete and metal as far as the eye could see. Vehicles flying through the air. A woman stood on top of a building, looking at Michael as he raced past. She had three eyes and no hair. Her legs had been replaced by six silvery contraptions that made her look like a robotic spider. She opened her mouth and a stream of fiery lava burst out, heading straight toward Michael.

Darkness.

World after world, game after game, Michael flew, attached to the purple beam. The pain consumed him. He barely saw what was below, streaming past, alternating with the black nothingness.