“Is this even English?” I asked, zooming in and pointing to a couple of scraps of paper.
“It’s complete fucking nonsense,” Chloe said. “Something is way the fuck off with him.”
She was right. It was complete nonsense. And something had been way off.
The next morning, Baron Corduroy was dead.
16
NO PLAYING THE GAME!
Baron’s official cause of death was listed as cardiorespiratory collapse due to a faulty valve.
Natural causes.
His sister had shown up to take him to brunch the morning after Chloe and I found him watching that weird video. She’d discovered Baron sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, empty eyes staring straight ahead.
A few days later, a memorial service was held at a church downtown.
Chloe and I spent the week following the ceremony doing nothing but playing videogames and drinking. We did everything we could to take our minds off one of our closest friends dropping dead from heart failure before the age of forty.
Because of what had happened with Baron, Chloe and I were doubly worried about the Magician. It had been forever since we’d discovered the WorGames connection, and he still hadn’t sat down with us to discuss what, if anything, he’d been able to dig up about what was happening with the game.
* * *
—
Not long after Baron’s memorial, Chloe and I were eating lunch together in the arcade when the Magician—barefoot and wild-eyed—burst out of his office, practically slid down the stairs, and shuffled across the room to the Robotron: 2084 machine. He pulled a folded old journal of some kind out of his back pocket and made a couple of notes. After muttering incoherently for a few seconds, he nodded in our direction and then scuttled back through the arcade and up the stairs.
“The Magician still seems a bit…off,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s getting worse. I don’t think he’s been home for days.”
“Do you think he’s playing the game?”
“Um…yeah. I sure do. Don’t you?”
I nodded. Chloe was doing her best to hide it, but I could tell she was worried.
“Maybe we should try to talk to him?” I asked.
“I don’t know…” Chloe said.
“Come on.” I started walking up to the Magician’s office. “If he doesn’t want to talk, he’ll just tell us to fuck off.”
“You’re probably right,” Chloe said as she followed me upstairs.
“I’m definitely right,” I said, then knocked on the door.
No response.
We stood there for almost a full minute before I knocked again.
“I said come in.” The Magician’s voice was muted, barely audible.
Chloe opened the door, and the two of us entered his office.
All of the blinds were closed. The Magician was working solely by the light of a small lamp and the soft bluish glow emanating from the screens of two ancient briefcase-style computers running some kind of operating system I’d never seen before.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the near-darkness before I was able to take a good look around the room.
His office was much messier than the last time I’d seen it. Stacks of random documents and bits of computing equipment still covered most of the tables and shelves, but now the floor surrounding his desk was a sea of paper scraps, computer cables, and take-out containers.
“Holy shit, is that an Amiga?” Chloe asked, pointing to the screen of the computer on the left.
“What is it?” The Magician spoke without looking at us as he rushed over to another desk and hit the space bars on two beat-up old laptops, pulling them out of sleep mode with a whirring sound, his head now bobbing frantically back and forth between the two screens. “I don’t have much time.”
Chloe continued to look around the room. I could tell by the expression on her face that she was shocked by the state of the Magician’s office.
When he finally turned to face us, I could see why Chloe was so worried. His eyes were wild and distant, his face gaunt and worn.
“How are you?” I asked.
“How am I?” the Magician repeated, then stared at me. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to embrace me or push me in front of a train. But, after a second or two, he just nodded absently. “I’m fine. Sorry about…Baron.”
“Thank you,” I said.
The Magician turned his attention back to whatever it was he’d been doing on his two laptops, muttering to himself as he glanced frantically from screen to screen.