But “Ajay” was frowning. He looked out at the real Ajay and shook his head.
“It’s not opening,” Ajay said. “We missed something.”
“Damn it,” said Elise under her breath.
The image of Beethoven’s salon disappeared and was replaced by the Himalayan meadow in front of the pagoda. Ronnie seemed more alert. “Elise” took his hand; this time Ronnie didn’t shrink away.
Will had an idea and leaned in past Elise toward the screen. “Ronnie, this is Elise,” said Will firmly. “She was your best friend.”
As he listened, Ronnie’s brow furrowed, in a struggle to comprehend.
“ ‘How do you measure the distance traveled by a smile?’ ” said Will.
The line sent a jolt through Ronnie. He turned, looked out at the real Elise, and seemed to recognize her. Ronnie reached out and Elise touched the screen. As their fingers met, Ronnie suddenly looked alert, revived, glowing with spirit.
“Show us what you hid on this drive, Ronnie,” said Elise. “Show us what you wanted us to see.”
Ronnie nodded, then pointed to the top of the screen. A moment later, an iron-banded transparent barrel dropped into the screen from above, landing with a heavy thud on the wooden bridge over the pond. The barrel began to fill with a viscous red liquid rising from the bottom.
“What’s that?” said Nick.
“It’s working,” said Ajay. “The file’s uploading to my tablet.”
Elise was still holding her hand to the screen, completely still, locked onto Ronnie. Will got the odd impression they were communicating without words.
“I think he’s a prisoner,” said Elise.
“What?” asked Nick. “How could you know that?”
“I just do,” she said. “I think what’s on there will tell us who did this to him.”
Ajay looked at Will with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll know soon enough,” he said, as the upload reached 50 percent.
Brooke had a funny look on her face. “Does anybody else hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Nick.
“Yes,” said Ajay. “It’s a—”
“Buzzing sound,” said Elise. “It’s coming from the image on-screen. Near the top of the mountain.”
Now Will could hear it, too.
It was a droning sound, and as they listened, it grew louder and more menacing. A trickle of scalloped black shadows dripped into the upper right corner of the screen and gyred lazily around, like cottonseeds blown by the wind. As they drifted toward the meadow, the shapes melded together into a pulsating mass that began to spin in place, counterclockwise, picking up force. The sky darkened as it gained strength and size, forming into a funnel cloud.
“What is that?” asked Nick.
“I think someone’s hacked into the program,” said Ajay.
“But how?” asked Brooke.
“I don’t know,” said Ajay. “We’re not online. It must be coming from one of our tablets.”
The syn-apps retreated toward the bottom of the screen. Will’s syn-app pulled a virtual Swiss Army knife from his pocket, expanded one of the blades, then stretched the handle out until it was as long as a harpoon.
“What’s your dude doing?” asked Nick.
“No idea,” said Will.
“I don’t like this,” said Elise. “We need to get out.”
Their eyes moved to the barrel, which had filled to nearly 90 percent.
“We almost have it,” said Ajay.
The surging vortex hit the ground, destroying everything it touched, tearing up the meadow, smashing through the pagoda. The syn-apps dodged a rain of debris.
“Ajay, it’s not safe—” said Brooke.
“If I terminate this download, we’ll lose what Ronnie wanted us to see,” said Ajay, “probably forever.”
Ronnie suddenly ran toward the cyclone. The syn-app shouted and waved his arms, then dashed away from the barrel. The twister changed direction and chased him.
“What the hell is he doing?” asked Nick.
“Buying us time,” said Will.
“Will” followed Ronnie toward the ledge they’d come in on. As the funnel cloud cornered Ronnie on the rocks, it morphed into a swarm of what looked like locusts. They descended on Ronnie and tore into him; he turned to Elise, his face a mask of pain. The pixels of his disintegrating image flew up into the cyclone.
“No!” shouted Elise.
As the funnel cloud consumed Ronnie’s syn-app, it took on the rough outline of his screaming face. “Will” reared back and cast his harpoon into the heart of the vortex; it swayed and weakened, but it was too late. Ronnie’s cries faded as the ravenous swarm swallowed the last of him.
The barrel on the screen filled, crimson slopping into the pond.
“We’ve got it,” said Ajay. “Shut down!”
“Shut down!” said Elise and Will.
Their tablets powered off. The syn-apps vanished and all their screens went blank. At that same moment, the lights in the room flickered and dimmed, then went out, plunging them into darkness.
Nick rushed to the window. “The whole campus is dark!”
“A power failure,” said Ajay, stepping beside him. “But campus-wide? Never seen that before.”
Will turned his tablet back on, and the room filled with ghostly light. Will’s syn-app appeared on-screen, holding his Swiss Army harpoon.
“You should have let me run that security check, Will,” the syn-app said.
“Will” raised the harpoon and showed them a creature impaled on the blade, a black beetle the size of a small dog, covered with coarse black hairs. It had distorted semihuman features on its hideous, squashed face.
“What the hell is that?” asked Nick.
“A virus infected your tablet,” said Will’s syn-app. “Origin unknown.”
“Will” shoved the bug toward the edge of the screen. A port opened on that side of Will’s tablet and the body of an identical bug—this one an inch long—plopped out onto the desk.
Brooke turned pale. “That’s what went after Ronnie?”
“So it appears,” said Ajay. He used a pencil to sweep the dead bug into an empty Altoids tin.
“Run the rest of that check now,” said Will to his syn-app.
“Can do,” said the syn-app.
“Where did this come from?” asked Elise, staring at the bug.
“Lyle,” said Will.
“Dude, Lyle’s trunk, these things were in those boxes,” said Nick, staring wide-eyed at the dead bug.
“This is how he was watching me,” said Will. “How he knew about my phone and our visit to their locker room.”
“But where did Lyle get it?” asked Brooke.
“The same place all the rest of them came from,” said Will.
“The Never-Was.”
Ajay activated his tablet. His syn-app held up a large file icon. “It’s intact; we’ve got Ronnie’s file,” said Ajay, excited. Then to his syn-app, “Open it.”
The screen opened to the grainy image of a video file, with a PLAY arrow in its center. They appeared to be looking through a hole into a dimly lit room, where a briefcase sat on a bench, with documents visible inside. There was a time stamp in the corner.
“It seems to be a video,” said Ajay, reading the time stamp. “Shot last April.”
“That’s the auxiliary locker room,” said Will, leaning in. “I think we’re looking out through one of the lockers.”
Ajay clicked the PLAY button. The image jumbled around a bit; then a face slid into view: Ronnie Murso.
“Auxiliary locker room,” whispered Ronnie. “Watch this.”
The image moved as Ronnie, camera in hand, stepped out of the locker into the room. He moved to the briefcase and rummaged around. Ronnie pulled out a thick gray metallic rod, held it up to the lens, then spoke into the lens again: “I think this is what they use to—”
He looked toward the door in alarm, as if he’d heard something outside. He dropped the rod into the briefcase, hurried back into the locker, and closed the door. He put the camera lens up to the hole in the locker looking into the room again.