The inside of the tour car is decked out in total 1970s luxury-shag carpets, velvet plush seats, and purple tinted one-way windows. You toss yourself onto a striped beanbag and sigh heavily. "Hey look," Chase says, removing his mask and pointing out onto the platform. "There's Nick and Tatum. I should probably text them that we're okay."
"You'd better do it quick," Damien says. "Cuz once we leave the sector, well lose cell phone reception."
You pull your phone out and send your parents a quick text. 'Gotta do something. Be back soon. I love you both.' Right after you hit send, a big red bar pops up on your screen reading "OUT OF RANGE"
"So do you think Bob knows anything?" you ask. "He doesn't look infected."
Val shrugs. "I would love the chance to eye scan him, though, just to see."
Damien turns on the entertainment monitor and flips through a music selection. "Wanna hear more of this band's crappy music? There's not much else here to choose from."
"I kinda like it," Val says.
"Me too," Chase says, giving her a goofy smile. "Anyway. we should probably learn our parts, right? At least so we can better pretend to play. You especially, Val."
She stretches out on a nearby orange velvet couch and yawns. "But we're not going to be the band forever. I don't know about you, but I'm cutting out in Alpha Sector the first chance I get."
Chase looks disappointed. "We're gonna split up?"
"No one is splitting up," Damien says. "But we should be ready for anything." He hits a button and a song starts.
"This is 'Baby Chicken Nightmare, 'God, who writes these titles?"
When you start to feel the car slowing down, you all put your masks back on and unlock the compartment. Moments later, Bob pokes his head in. "Alright guys, this is just a quick in-and-out job. They've got the stage all ready to go for you."
You step out of the car onto a dark, empty platform. There are no signs or indicators of what sector you're in, so it must be a private stop. As you enter a nearby corridor, you hear a strange sound. It gets louder and louder as you walk, and you realize it's a crowd of people stomping rhythmically and cheering. Bob stops at a white door. "Ready, guys?"
He opens the door and you're nearly blinded by a shaft of bright, white light. The stomping stops and the cheers increase tenfold, and you feel a shove from behind. "Go, go, go!" Bob shouts. Your eyes are starting to adjust, and you can see you're standing in the wings of a giant arena stage.
You take a deep breath and run out to where your bazooka bass waits on its stand. As you hoist it onto your shoulder, you notice something that looks like a small trap door in the orchestra pit-the only thing that separates you from what has to be at least a thousand people.
The recording starts, and Val really seems to be getting into it this time--prancing and drill guitaring like a madwoman back and forth across the stage. The audience is pulsing with energy, cheering and pushing against each other in a valiant attempt to dance to the crazy beat. Every so often, a person bursts out of the swarm of people to crowd surf on its surface before sinking back into its depths.
Then, over the din of the music, you start to hear what sounds like screaming coming from the left side of the audience. At first you think it's just a fan getting worked up over Val's pelvic thrusts, but then you realize it's the sound of agony or fear, rather than delight. You squint against the bright lights to see that one of the crowd surfers appears to be a VM. The expressions on the faces of the people holding him up are a mix of terror and confusion, though one guy appears to be laughing maniacally. It's hard to tell if this is a real attack or some sort of publicity stunt or prank. Suddenly, the crowd below him gives him one big push into the air, sending him toppling into the orchestra pit. Immediately, he jumps back up to his feet and growls menacingly at the audience. Then he leaps onto a nearby ladder and starts climbing up out of the pit.
"Do it! Do it! Do it!" the crowd chants together, as if this is a typical occurrence at a Toxifarian concert.
Well, you figure you're not holding a huge rifle for nothing. You wait until Val is clear of your target before peering through the site and lining up the crosshairs right over the VM's cranium. Then you brace yourself for whatever sort of kickback this ridiculously giant gun may have and pull the trigger. The meatbag's head pops like a water balloon filled with Bio-5 fruit jelly.
"Awesome!" a guy in the audience shouts before giving his buddy a high-five. "Oh yeah!"
Now that you have a chance to look at the VM more closely, you see that he has some skin colored gloves on. And his teeth appear to have a transparent guard on them.
'This meatbag was a setup,' you realize.
The music continues to play, so you go back to your usual bass duties. When the concert is finally over, you and the rest of your bandmates follow Bob back to the tour car.
"That was a great kil!" he says, patting you on the back.
"Thanks," you say, lifting up the corner of your mask and attempting your best British accent.
Bob gives you a strange look, but then he shakes his head and smiles. "Alright guys," he continues, "There are clean jumpsuits in the back there. Just sit back and relax, and well have you back to Alpha Sector in no time."
After you get cleaned up, you collapse onto one of the sofas next to Damien.
"That was pretty cool," he says. Chase agrees, but Val looks a little upset. You ask her what's wrong.
"You should have let me take him down," she grumbles. "I'm the lead singer, after all."
"Sorry," you say. "You snooze, you lose. That's rock 'n' roll, baby."
When you arrive in Alpha Sector, Bob drops you and your instruments off at your private subway stop. You step out onto the nicest platform you've ever seen. There's a pair of moving walkways down its center, each heading in the opposite direction. The walls are shiny and accented with lots of stained glass and fancy gold details, and the whole place is cleaner than your mother's lab station back home.
"Oh, by the way, there's a special surprise waiting for you in your apartment," Bob says, tossing you a key. You notice it's a real key, metal and engraved with an apartment number, not just a cheap plastic key card. "Have fun," Bob calls before slamming the car door shut. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning." As the car speeds off, you lift up your mask and look at your friends. "Should we check it out?" you ask.
"You mean do I want to see how the rich and famous live?" Val says, grabbing the key from your hand and stepping onto the walkway. "Uh, yeah."
The rest of you follow Val onto the walkway. As it sweeps you down the corridor, you see a woman exit a door at the far end and step onto the walkway moving towards you.
"Quick," you whisper to your friends. "Lower your masks."
As the woman gets closer, you recognize her as Dr. Gloria Goodbody. She hosts your mom's favorite morning talk show, and she's one of the most popular people on television.
"Hi, guys!" she calls. "I just heard your new Undernet release, and it's simply amazing. Do you have a minute to talk?"
"Of course," you say, stepping off the walkway. "We're big fans of yours as well."
"Oh, thank you," she says, giving her perfectly coifed hair a self-conscious pat.
Damien punches you softly, perhaps affectionately.
"We caught each other at the perfect moment," Gloria continues. "I'm heading down to the studio right now to film tomorrow's episode, and I have a vacant spot in the lineup. Would you guys be up for coming with me and performing a song?" She leans forward and gives you a sly wink. "Don't worry, all the 'technical' stuff will be taken care of."
Your suits and masks should protect your identity Besides, no one even knows who the members of Toxifarian are, so you might as well have some fun.
"How can we say no to the number one talk show host in Alpha Sector?" you ask. "We'll do it." The rest of your group nods and grunts in enthusiastic agreement. You get a back-slap from one of your bandmates.
"Wonderful," Gloria says, beaming her thousand watt smile. "Follow me—my car should be waiting."
Back at the platform, there is now a shiny black car parked on the tracks. The inside of it is decorated much more tastefully than the Toxifarian tour car, with sleek leather seats and chrome and glass accents along the mini bar.
Gloria opens the door of the tiny fridge, and you see it's filled with every kind of snack you could imagine. You spot your favorite protein bar right next to a new bio-fruit roll you've been wanting to try. Underneath your mask, your mouth is watering.
"Go ahead," she says. "Take whatever you want."
Damien (Or is it Val? It's hard to keep track of everyone with the disguises on.) shakes his head.
"Don't worry," Gloria laughs. "You guys can drop your whole mystery identity thing for now. Ipromise your secret is safe with me."
Chase hesitates just a moment before removing his mask and wig and reaching hungrily for some bio-Cheezies. The familiar crinkle of the bag persuades the rest of you to follow suit soon after.
"My goodness," Gloria exclaims when you've all revealed your true selves. "You're all just a bunch of kids! So I suppose the rumor that one of you is dating Emma St. Claire is just that—a rumor!"
"Actually," Chase says, licking some orange dust from his fingers. "That's the truth. She's like, totally in love with me."
Emma St. Claire is the star of Things According to Emma, the most popular sitcom on television for as long as you can remember. These days, however, she's known more for her crazy tabloid exploits than her acting talent. It's sad, really, because she used to be so cute and charming on her show, getting into silly little mishaps and finding a way out of them again by the end of the half hour. Chase has harbored a major crush for her for years, even though now she's pretty much just a hot mess.
Gloria crosses her arms and gives him a stern look. "Well, your girlfriend is a very rude neighbor, that's for sure. One more 3 a.m. party, and I'm going to call the authorities. You should try to talk some sense into her."
"That's right, Chase," Val says, rolling her eyes. "If anyone can get Emma St. Claire to change her ways, it's you."
"I'll see what I can do," Chase says, reaching for a can of Vita-Fizz.
"And you!" Gloria raises her eyebrows at you. "are a girI thought you were all guys, come to think of it. So all that about you dating the supermodel Heidi Vanbloomers is just a rumor?"
"Hey, are you saying this isn't good enough for Heidi?" You motion to your oversized jump-suited body.
"So that's a 'no'?" Gloria smirks.
"I don't kiss-and-tell," you say with an exaggerate sigh. "Just the same, don't underestimate the power of the music, babe." you wink.
Your friends are smiling like the Joker.
When Gloria's car reaches the studio, you all put your masks back on and follow her to the green room. "Make yourselves at home," she says. "If you need anything before we tape, let my assistant know. Her name is Carol."
Carol is a short, skinny blonde with a pointy chin and thick rimmed glasses. "I'm a huge fan," she gushes, shaking each of your hands. "Thank you so much for doing this. We keep a complimentary gift basket on hand for guests, so feel free to take something."
She holds up the basket, and you see that there's an assortment of pistols (which is good for those of you not armed, but Opal is still the best weapon, in your opinion), as well as bullets, vials of antidote, and gift certificates for a total makeover.
You select a small bundle of bullets wrapped in a red velvet bow.
"Excellent choice," Carol says. "I hope they keep you safe on tour."
On the green room's huge television screen, you watch as Gloria starts her show. When she annournces that Toxifarian is today's special guest, the studio audience goes wild. When it comes time for you to play, you wail on your instrument with added gusto, invigorated by the roar of your fans. You get so into it that two minutes into the song, you accidentally knock the mask off your face. The audience collectively gasps, then there's a flurry of camera phones as everyone rushes to capture and post your identity online.
"That was amazing," Gloria cries when the show cuts to commercial. "My ratings for this show are going to be through the roof!"
"You can't air that," Val says. "You'll have to edit it out or something."
"And why would I do that?" Gloria asks, still grinning from ear to ear.
"Because you promised," you say. "You said our secret was safe."
"That was in the car," Gloria says. "On my show, all bets are off. It happened on camera, so it airs."
Your mind races. If this airs, everyone will know where you are. You're not supposed to be in this sector! Granted, it will be a few hours before it goes live, but that's just delaying your problem, not solving it.
Acting like a baby or threatening Gloria will do you no good. After all, even if you could convince her to not air the footage, there's all those camera phones. Your face is going to be plastered all over SurvivorNet, anyway.
She reaches for your hand and gives it a firm shake. "Thanks for your time, all of you. Carol will show out of the studio. My driver will be waiting there to take you backhome."
"But that's not fair!" Damien cries.
"Tell it to your manager," Gloria replies with a shrug. "Oh, wait-you didn't bring him. Oopsie!"
Carol appears and ushers you out of the studio. Meanwhile, you're still a little in shock. "What just happened?" you say.
"Well," Val says, "What is about to happen is your face is going to be broadcast sector-wide."
"Our parents will know just where to find us," Chase says.
"Not unless we're gone by then," you say, checking your watch. "The show doesn't air for another three hours. That should give us enough time to check out the apartment and then get the heck out of Alpha Sector."
"Agree," Val says. "Plus, I'm still dying to see what's there waiting for us."
You take the car back to the apartment, Gloria's betrayal still burning in your mind. When you reach a white door marked 33W, Val slips the key in the lock and grins. "Are you guys ready for this?"
She turns the knob and you step into a spacious room that is at least ten times bigger than your family's entire Iliving pod. Chase gives a low whistle as the four of you take it all in. The antique furniture is covered in real leather-not the fake plastic stuff you have at home. A few of the paintings on the wall you recognize from an old art history book your dad likes to read when he's feeling nostalgic for the old surface world. Suddenly, you hear something that sounds like laughter coming from the next room. You immediately draw Opal and signal for the others. Peeking carefully around the doorway, you see four women standing in a large kitchen in front of an open refrigerator. They're each wearing a different colored skimpy dress and matching heels. The one in red looks up at you and smiles.
"Oh, hey," she says, shutting the appliance door. Her makeup is more ridiculous than the painting you just saw.
"Welcome home."
"Uh..." Damien's careful not to lift his mask too far from his face as he speaks. "Thanks."
"My name is Carla," says the woman in black. "I hope it's okay that we let ourselves in. We were looking for something to eat the woman in green says seductively. "We figured we'd need the energy later on."
"For what?" Chase asks.
The woman in blue giggles. "What do you think?"
"Uh, no thank you," Val says, ushering the woman and her friends to the door. "We're not interested."
"Let's not be rude," Chase says. Val glares at him and pushes the women towards the door.
"We can just hang out if you want," says the woman in red. "We've been paid for the whole evening."
"I have party favors!" the woman in black says, reaching for her purse.
"Sorry," Val says. "We're not really into that, either. Goodbye." She slams the door and locks it as they continue to whine and protest. "Holy cow, what the heck was that all about?"
"I don't knovw," Damien says. "But it was totally creepy."
"I thought they seemed nice," Chase mumbles under his breath.
"Whatever," you say. "Let's get searching. We don't have much time."
Overall, the apartment is pretty bare, and you come up with no obvious clues as to Toxifarian's true nature. There's not even a computer to try to hack. You're just about ready to call it a night when there's a knock on the door. At first you ignore it, hoping it will go away, but then the knocking turns to heavy pounding.
"Yoo-hoo," a deep voice calls out. "Anyone home?"
"Did you enjoy your little snack?" another voice chimes in. "We picked 'em out special just for you."
"And now it's time to pay up."
The pounding continues, followed by the cracks and pops of splitting wood. The four of you quickly tiptoe down the hallway to the back bedroom.
"Let's hide in the closet!" Chase whispers.
You open the closet door and for a moment think that it's yet another bedroom, since it's so big. You take out your phone and use it to illuminate the racks of shoes and rows of hanging clothes. You see something moving in the shadows, and so you move to illuminate the corner.
There's a woman there! She wears a skimpy dress (not unlike the prostitutes you saw earlier), leaning against the wall, tied up and struggling. There is a ball-gag in her mouth that she is mumbling through hysterically.
"Uhhh.." Val whispers beside you. All the others are in the closet. Chase has shut the door with his ear pressed against it.
Beyond the closet door, you hear the front door break open and the voices start to get louder.
You're trying to hide and it looks like that woman is in no mood to be quiet. The bal-gag stays in her mouth for now.
"Looks like they're gone," you hear a man's voice from beyond the closet door.
The bound woman begins thrashing around in a frenzy and despite her bonds and gag, she is making significant noise.
You lay on top of her, put your hand over her gag to further muffle her screams, and whisper into her ear. "We will help you if you shut up."
She continues to struggle. You take your mask off and illuminate your face with your phone. "Look at me!" you hiss. "I'm a nice girl here to help, but you have to shut up because there's some bad men out there."
Seeing your face seems to finally calm her down. You smile at her. "We'll untie you soon. You're safer here, not moving." You put your finger to your lips.
Although shaking, she seems to at least have gotten the message to stay quiet.
You listen to the voices beyond the closet door.
"Where do you think they went?"
"They couldn't have eaten all those girls already."
"Yeah, they were skinny, but... Naw, it would take longer than that!"
"Should we go look for 'em?"
"No, you idiot. Find the badges. Bob promised they'd be high clearance. Says he got 'em off some geneticists."
"Sweet—surface world, here we come."
"If that bastard is lying, I'm gonna rip his face right off his stupid skull"
"Hey, does anyone else smell something?"
"Nah, it's probably just leftover slut scent."
"No, that's not it."
"Just shut up and case the joint. Every inch of it."
"Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap," Chase whimpers. "What now?"
"Sounds like they're looking for the Toxifarians," you whisper. You illuminate yourself with your phone as you put on your mask. "Well, here we are!"
The rest of you done your masks, and then you lead them out the door.
"Behind your back," you whisper as you grip your crowbar behind you. The others follow your example. You probably look ridiculous (or at least suspicious) walking around with your hands behind your backs, but you don't care. You want to be ready.
In the living room, you find four guys ransacking the place—pulling out drawers and flipping over couch cushions. When you see their flesh-colored skin, you exhale a quick sign of relief. Humans.
"What the? Where were you hiding?" says one man. His mouth is full of black, crooked teeth. His hair is a tall, blonde Mohawk and there are flames tattooed around his neck.
"Afraid of burglars," you mumble through your mask.
One with glasses, wearing a nice suit, laughs. "And well you should be," he motions around him.
"Where are the badges?" asks the Mohawk man.
"All I smell is human. Where are the girls? Did you actually eat them all already?" asks a hulking man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts.
"Oh... They're not here," you say.
"What!? Take that off!" commands muscle man. He then crosses the room (faster than what seems natural) and swipes at your mask, but you are able to dodge out of the way. It doesn't appear that he's going to let you keep your mask on, and you doubt he will expect what he finds underneath.
"Fine, give me a sec," you shout through your mask as you take a step back out of his reach.
You then draw Opal and shoot Hawaiian shirt man right between the eyes. Everyone else opens fire. The three remaining men are taken completely by surprise and go down in a hail of bullets.
Damien pats your shoulder and looks down at the hulking man you took down. "Nice job, Wyatt Earp,"
"So now what?" Chase asks. "We have a third type of VM that can talk and look normal?"
Damien takes his crowbar and scrapes it against one of the bodies. "Nah, he says. It's just makeup."
Val checks the other bodies. Sure enough, their skin underneath the heavy layer of flesh-colored paste is clearly un-D. "Brilliant," she says. "I wonder how many of these guys have been wandering around in Zeta right under our noses."
"Maybe we should go back and tell Gloria about it," Damien says. "Give her something to really boost her ratings."
"Maybe she's one of them too," Val says.
"Maybe your mom is one," Chase snickers as Val sneers back at him sarcastically.
"Whatever's going on," Damien says, "these guys were looking for something. And they seemed to want it pretty badly. We should probably find it."
"Badges," you say. "I heard them say something about high security geneticists."
"What good will badges do us?" Chase protests. "We don't even know what they're for. Can't we just go back to Zeta? It's getting really late, and our parents are probably worried sick by now."
"Stop being so lame," Val says, poking him in the chest. "Didn't you hear what else they said? They mentioned a way to the surface."
"So what?" Chase says, poking her right back. "That's the oldest urban legend in, like, ever. Everyone knows the surface is sealed off-permanently."
You step in between your friends. "Guys, if there's even a tiny chance that we could make it to the surface, shouldn't we at least give it a shot?"
"Based on what a bunch of painted up meatbags said? And even if we make it to the surface, then what? Die? There's cities of meatbags up there!" Chase says incredulously.
"I'm in." Val says.
"Nice," Chase throws up his hands. "I'm glad my opinion is being weighed so carefully." he says sarcastically.
You look towards Damien for support, but he's no longer standing there. Your heart jumps and you immediately assume he's been grabbed by another hidden VM. As you reach for your pistol, you hear him call your name from the back bedroom.
You all run into the bedroom to see the young woman from the closet now sitting on the bed, dazed, with smeared makeup. Damien is on his knees with his hand in a compartment in the wall. "Her name's Pixie. She says she saw the Toxifarians put stuff behind here."
He pulls out a wooden box and plunks it on the nightstand. Inside are some badges attached to some woven chains along with a folded piece of paper.
He tosses you the badges, and you notice they're spattered with blood. Across the top of each, Vitaline Innovations Lab is written in big block letters. One contains a photo of Mary Mackey, a small, serious-looking woman with mousy grayish-brown hair. The other badge apparently belonged to Gregory Hildebrand, a bald man with thick round glasses that make his eyes look too small for his head.
"Well, those obviously aren't going to get us anywhere," Chase scoffs. "Unless it just happens to be Dress Like Toxifarian Day at the old VitaLine Innovations Lab tomorrow"
"Maybe it's Bring Your Rat Child to Work Day," Val says. "Then they'd let you right in."
"Both of you, shut it," Damien holds up a bundle of folded paper. "I found a map."
He spreads it out on the bed so the four of you can take a look. It's spattered with blood as well, but it's still pretty legible in areas. It's a diagram of the sector system with half a dozen dots placed in various areas. Beside each dot, someone (or something?) has scrawled a series of letters and numbers-a code of some sort that doesn't seem to make any sense.
"Look," Damien says. "There's one in downtown Alpha Sector, not too far from Gloria's studio."
"How are we gonna get back there?" Chase asks. "The car is long gone by now."
"It's not that far," you say. "We can always walk the tracks if we have to."
As you prepare to leave the apartment, you notice that Pixie, the woman presumably stored for later eating, had wisely decided to make a quiet getaway. You wouldn't mind asking her a few questions, but there's no sign of her in the apartment, down the hall or back on the subway platform; however, you're surprised to find another car waiting. When the driver sees you, he gets out.
"Where is she?" he demands angrily.
"Who?" you ask.
"Miss St. Claire. If she misses her call to set one more time, the producers are going to fire her."
"We don't know," Val says with a shrug. "We were just visiting some friends."
The driver scowls. "Well, I'm done. If you see her, tell her quit." He gets back in the car and speeds off before you get the chance to ask him for a lift downtown.
"Oh, that's just great," cries a familiar, raspy voice behind you. You turn to find Emma St. Claire standing there. She's wearing a white leather jacket over a black and white mini dress so wrinkled that she must have slept in it. "Now how am I supposed to get to the studio?"
"Is it anywhere near Gloria Goodbody's studio?" Chase asks. "If so, you could go with us"
"Who the hell are you?" she asks, peering over her dark sunglasses at him.
"I'm uh..." he stammers, turning red.
"He's Chase," Val says. "I'm Val, that's Damien and she's Jen. "
Emma yawns and starts digging in her oversized shoulder bag. "Whatever. Does anyone have an aspirin? My head is killing me."
"Nope," Damien says. "We're sort of in a hurry. So are you coming or not?" He rolls his eyes at her, which pleases you greatly.
"Jeez, yeah," she replies, making the exasperated face she's been famous for since the first season of her show.
"Lead the way, mein führer."
You follow Damien into the dark south tunnel, staying far to the side of the narrow ledge above the tracks just in case any cars come through. Everyone has a weapon ready at hand just in case you encounter any meatbags. Everyone, that is, except for Emma.
"God, how long is this gonna take?" she whines after a few minutes. "My feet are already killing me."
"You're more than welcome to turn around and go home," Val says through gritted teeth.
"I can carry your bag for you if want," Chase says. "It looks really heavy."
Emma's phone starts ringing. She stops to dig it out of her bag and checks the screen before sending an annoyed look your way. "This is kinda private. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Damien mutters, continuing to walk. Everyone follows him except for Chase, but Val goes back and pulls him away from Emma's side.
"We can't just leave her here," he insists.
"Sure we can," Val says. "She'll catch up. And if she doesn't, I'm fine with that, too."
The sound of Emma's voice fades as you continue on, and you start to think that maybe you have lost her for good. Then, suddenly, you hear screaming.
"I knew it!" Chase says, waving his gun. "I gotta go save her!"
"Wait!" Val says, grabbing onto his arm. "It's way too dark for shooting. And you're not very experienced at hand to hand combat. It's not worth risking infection."
"But she's gonna die!" Chase wails. "Someone's gotta help her!"
"Stay here," you say. "I'll save her."
You draw your crowbar and double back towards the screaming, scanning the darkness for movement as you go. Finally, you come upon two shadowy figures wrestling on the ground near the glowing screen of Emma's phone. When you see a figure not dressed in polka dots, you swing and hit it upside the head. It slumps on its side, howling. Emma wiggles herself free. There's a sting on your ankle. Perhaps it scratched you, or maybe it was a bite; it's hard to tell in the dark. You bash the dark lump until it stops moving.
"Thanks," Emma says, wiping the dirt from her dress. "He just came out of nowhere."
"You're welcome," you say. "But we'd better get a move on before more show up, though."
"No way," she says. "After that, all I want to do is go home and take a nap. But you can have this..." You feel her press something cool and hard into your hand—two bullets. "And tell your friend I think he's kinda cute."
You return to your friends alone, and you can almost see Val's eyes roll when you tell Chase what Emma said. The rest of the way downtown, he whistles a happy little tune.