Olympus: It's Not Just a Game

Chapter 35

Outraged, Wheeler tore off his helmet. The adults stood around the basement, startled at the turn of events. Jacob's monitor showed flaring Spartan torches, glinting spears, and a heap of coals that had once been Wheeler. Nancy's monitor showed the same torches falling rapidly away below her, rhythmically obscured by the wingbeats of the dragon.

Inside Olympus, Karl, Jacob, and Noah were still in shock. They stared out into the impenetrable sky, looking for Nancy. Then their gaze fell upon the ruins of Wheeler. "We've lost," groaned Jacob. "Lord Peter's beaten us. There's no way we'll ever get her back, now."

Noah grimaced. "I almost had him with that catapult." He shook his sword helplessly at the night. "So much for beating Peter."

Karl slid his sword back into its sheath. "This makes it a lot tougher," he admitted, "But I'm not giving up. It's time for plan B."

"What's plan B?" Jacob asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Karl admitted. "But it isn't quitting!"

"No!" Jacob protested. "Karl, you said you'd come home and apologize to Dad if you couldn't get Nancy back." He pointed up into the black night sky. "You don't really think you're going to find her now, do you?"

Karl was stubborn. "Olympus is only so big. It's hard to hide a dragon. I've tracked one down before, and I saw which way this one went. He was heading straight up Mount Olympus!"

Noah looked at Karl's resolute face, and sighed. He could see this wasn't going to be easy. "Jacob, why don't you and I step out of the cybersuits and talk this over with the grown-ups." He looked meaningfully at Jacob. "I think we need some help!" He turned to Karl. "Can you hold the fort here?" Karl nodded agreement, and Noah and Jacob peeled off their suits. They emerged, blinking, into the fluorescent light of the basement, where Wheeler and the adults were deep in discussion.

"Right!" Mr. Avery agreed, emphatically. "The plan to simply conquer Athens was worth a shot, but, to be honest, our chances were never very high. I'd say we're pretty much back to square one."

"We've learned some things," Wheeler pointed out. "Did you hear what my Dad said about Karl?"

"Your father?" exploded Mr. Huber. "Which one was he?"

Mrs. Morrison pursed her lips. "The wizard," she answered. "The slimy looking one in the black cape."

"The one who turned that guy into a dragon?" Mr. Huber spluttered. "And then the dragon toasted your only son?"

"Yeah, well, he's a real sweetie," she answered sourly. "The way he treats Simon is so — special."

Wheeler gulped uncomfortably. He felt his throat tighten up, the way it always did when his Mom started talking about his Dad. "Anyway, did you hear what he said about Karl?"

Noah was the first to respond. "Something about him being locked up in storage?"

"That's what I heard," answered Wheeler. "How would he know about that?"

"I missed that," Mrs. Morrison murmured.

"I should have it on disk," Mr. Avery volunteered. "I've been burning CDs steadily since we started this."

"What, you record this whole thing like a movie?" asked Mr. Huber.

"Sort of," answered Mr. Avery, sitting down in front of a monitor and pecking at a keyboard. "Of course, I'm not just recording pixels. I'd be spinning out a new disk every two minutes if I did that. I've been recording these scenes the same way Olympus generates them: as data segments. This one," he said, holding out a gleaming plastic disk, "has all the data for over an hour." Numbers and icons streamed down the screen. "It's a lot more efficient."

"It looks a lot more complicated," Mr. Huber complained.

They stared at the numbers. Then Mr. Avery hit a button. "See, here's the part where Jacob met up with the wizard."

"Where?" Mr. Huber asked, staring blindly at the symbols before him. Wheeler scooted his chair over the tangled cables on the linoleum floor. Mr. Avery moved to one side so that he could get a better look.

Wheeler's eyes swept over the numbers and letters. He reached out and pointed at a string of symbols halfway down the screen. "There!" he exclaimed. "That's Dad's voice."

Mr. Avery clicked on the icon and the unmistakably arrogant sounds of Ray Morrison poured out of the stereo speakers. "Apprentice? A sorcerer's apprentice? How droll."

"The part about Karl came after that," Wheeler said. Mr. Avery paged down through the data. "This may be it."

Sure enough, they heard Mr. Morrison's unmistakable voice say again, "Your little friend who's locked up in storage, that's who!" Wheeler's voice asked what Nancy could do to Olympus, and then the wizard's harsh voice spoke again. "Her? Hardly! It's your friend Karl!"

"He knows something, no question about it." Mr. Avery was convinced.

Mr. Huber was still confused. "What could he possibly have to do with all this?"

Mrs. Morrison tried to explain the situation. "Ray has a lot to do with Olympus, Dan."

"My Dad wrote the software for the whole game," Wheeler boasted. "If it happens in Olympus, Dad knows about it."

Mr. Avery's brain was whirling. "Locked up in storage," he shouted. He jumped out from his seat and started pacing. "Do you know what this could mean?" He stared at them. "You're missing one teen," he muttered, as much to himself as to Mr. Huber. "How many other parents are missing theirs?"

"Youre getting carried away, Avery," Mr. Huber snorted. "We're just having a little family problem here. Don't get crazy on us."

"Maybe we're not alone. After all, we haven't gone to the newspaper with this. Maybe it isn't just a private problem. Multiply this case a thousand times, and it could be big business."

"Business? What kind of business?" demanded Mr. Huber.

Mr. Avery stopped pacing. "An old-fashioned business, Dan. Slavery."

"Slavery!" he laughed. "You aren't serious. Slavery is illegal!"

"So is kidnapping," Mr. Avery replied, calmer now. "But we know that slavery is big business inside Olympus. So where do you think they get all those slaves?"

"But it's just a game!" protested Mr. Huber.

"Is it?" Mrs. Morrison demanded. "Then why doesn't karl just quit? What kind of game is it to be sold into slavery? Why not take off the helmet and come home. There's something horrible going on here, I just know it!"

Mr. Huber spun around on Mrs. Morrison. "And this insect, this ex-husband of yours is involved? Where is he?"

Mrs. Morrison paled slightly. "He's in Cambridge," she said. "In Massachusetts."

"I'm going," Mr. Huber declared. "I'm going to find out what he knows."

"You can't just rush off there like that," Mrs. Morrison protested. "Why should he speak to you?"

"I'll come," Wheeler volunteered. "He'll talk to me."

"Oh, no, Simon," his mother exclaimed. "I don't want you anywhere near him."

"Aw, Mom," protested Wheeler. "What's he going to do, kidnap me?"

"I don't trust him," she muttered.