The space was huge, but divided up into smaller sections so it didn't feel like an airplane hangar or anything. The ceiling was made of clear glass, so we could see the sky and the last of the storm clouds passing through. That meant we were now on the top floor of the Barbican.

We first walked through a wood-floored arena that reminded me of a basketball court. But this was Veelox. Their version of basketball had soccer-style nets on each of the four walls, and green balls that looked twice the size of a basketball.

Zetlin led us across the empty court, through a door, and into another space that had the Veelox version of a game I remembered playing as a kid. You know that game where you have to knock over wooden pegs set up on a table by swinging a ball on the end of a string? I think it was called Skittles.

Well, this was like Skittles, only life-size. There were five giant balls, all hanging from ropes in the center of a round court. Instead of pegs, the idea was to knock over people. I'm serious. There was a game under way with ten kids in the center of the big court, and another ten around the circle. The kids around the outside would grab the ball and swing it into the center to try and hit one of the kids inside. Some of the kids inside really got clocked, too. It was like nasty dodgeball. I wasn't sure if it was fun or torture.

"Hey, guys," Zetlin called out. "Game's over. Let's play tomorrow, okay?"

Zetlin even used kid slang that sounded like Second Earth, but I guess that was because my Traveler brain interpreted it from whatever was the kid slang version of the language they spoke on Veelox.

"Yeah. Okay! See ya later, Z!" the players all shouted as they jogged off the court, headed for the elevator.

"You enjoy playing child games," Loor said.

"Indeed," Zetlin answered. "It relaxes me to play simple games of skill and chance."

He led us next into what looked more like living space. It was modern, with a lot of big, comfortable couches of all colors. There were giant screens on the wall that I'd bet anything were for video games. It looked like we had just missed a big party. Plates and cups were scattered everywhere. All had half eaten leftovers of I don't know what. The only thing I knew for sure was that it wasn't gloid. There were a couple of older guys wearing green jumpsuits who were cleaning the place up.

One of them saw us and said, "We'll have the place tidy in no time, Z."

"Take your time," Zetlin responded. "I don't think we'll have anybody over again today."

Wow. He had servants cleaning up after him too. Could this place get any better? It could.

We stepped into a modern kitchen that was full of incredible smells. A dozen chefs were scurrying around, busily cooking and frying and baking anda man, my stomach rumbled. I had only been eating gloid for the last few days. The idea of real food sounded pretty good right about now.

A woman chef hurried up to Zetlin with a tray of freshly baked cookies. "Can I tempt you, Z?" she asked.

Zetlin nodded for us to try the cookies. I didn't want to be rude, so I took one. Who am I kidding? They smelled great. I wanted ten. But I only took one and it was delicious. It was sweet and gooey and tasted like chocolate. Loor ate one too. I could tell by the look on her face that she liked it as much as I did. As if reading my mind, another chef appeared with two glasses that I really hoped had the Veelox version of milk. What is it about milk that tastes so good with chocolate? The liquid was creamy colored, and I'm not sure if it was milk, but it sure tasted great.

"Thank you," I said to the chefs.

"Yes, thank you," Loor added.

Zetlin smiled and led us on. As soon as we stepped through the door into the next section, I knew this was our ultimate destination. One whole wall was made of glass, which meant we could look out onto the strange city of black buildings. The opposite wall held a computer console that looked very much like the Alpha Core in the Lifelight pyramid. This place wasn't about fun and games. This was where Dr. Zetlin worked. This was where we needed to be.

"First things first," Zetlin said. He walked to the control chair and hit a few buttons on the arm controller. The building rumbled. It felt like an earthquake.

"What is happening?" Loor asked, crouching down and ready for trouble.

"Don't worry," Zetlin answered. "I'm returning the Barbican to position number one."

The walls began to move. I realized that the massive building was turning back onto its side! We heard the grinding sound of metal wheels activating and straining under the massive load. Loor and I both looked around for something to grab on to for balance.

Zetlin laughed, "Please, don't panic. The floors rotate inside the structure. We'll remain level."

Sure enough, as the wall moved, what had been the glass ceiling became the wall. A new glass ceiling appeared which was previously the far wall. Even though we weren't actually moving, all this rotating made me dizzy. The only way I could keep from falling over was to look out at the city. The city didn't move. That proved the building was rotating around us while the floor stayed level. Amazing. A few seconds later, the building shuddered and it was over. A quick look around told me that nothing seemed to have changed.

"The building is on its side again?" I asked.

"Yes," Zetlin answered. "All the floors are perfect cubes. That's how they can rotate within the frame of the Barbican. The only thing different now is that each floor is side by side with the next. In position one, there is no need to climb between floors. Everything is on one level."

"Why do you make this building turn like it does?" Loor asked.

"To keep out the uninvited, of course," Zetlin answered.

That meant us, but I wasn't going to start apologizing now. I walked over to the glass wall and gazed out at the dreary, black city.

"I don't get it," I said. "Why do you have that city out there? You could create any world you want. I'm sorry for saying this, but this whole setup is totally strange."

Zetlin joined me at the window and looked out. "This city is a reminder," he said softly.

"Of what?" I asked.

"Of life before Lifelight."

"I don't understand," I said. "Is this where you lived?"

"In a manner of speaking," Zetlin answered. "I was born and raised in Rubic City. It was a busy, thriving community, but I was never a part of it. I was too-what was the word they used?-I was too special to be part of the life everyone else knew."

It was strange listening to Zetlin. He looked like a sixteen-year-old kid, but his words were that of a sad old man. It was kind of creepy.

"The directors recognized my genius from the time I was an infant," he continued. "They predicted my superior intellect could change the future of Veelox." He looked at me and chuckled. "They were right."

"Then you did not live an ordinary life?" Loor asked.

"Oh, no!" Zetlin answered quickly. "I lived an extraordinary life. I was surrounded by the greatest scientific minds available. They were my teachers, but soon became my pupils. They marveled at my theories of neural-electric compatibility. It was the theory that broke down the artificial wall between thought and reality. By the time I was eight, we created the first prototype of Lifelight. It was crude, but we were able to generate visual images driven solely by brain function. That was the moment. The breakthrough. From then on, it was simply about growth."

"But what was your life like?" I asked. "I mean, yeah, you were a genius and all, but it sounds a littlea I don't knowa not fun."

Zetlin didn't answer. He simply looked out the window. It was slowly coming clear to me. Aja told me what it was like to grow up as a phader. Every minute was spent learning and being trained. There was no time for warmth or friendship. My guess was that Dr. Zetlin's life had been like that, times about a thousand. This horrible, black city was the image Zetlin had of his life. His real life.

I had been wrong to think Zetlin's fantasy was about reliving his youth. It was about having the childhood he was denied. This building he called the Barbican was his second chance at being a kid.

"I had a goal," he finally said. "I worked on Lifelight for sixty years. It consumed me morning and night. But I kept going because I knew it would be my only chance to escape." He pointed out through the glass. "That city. That dark, rainy cold city is there as a reminder of what life once was, and of why I will never leave the Barbican."

I felt bad for the guy. His life was a fantasy. He had no memories of real live friends or loved ones. Everything important to him was made up in his head. Worse than that, I was going to have to tell him that it wouldn't last.

"We need your help. Dr. Zetlin," I said.

Zetlin pulled himself away from the window. He was suddenly a young boy again, full of energy. He hurried to the control chair and plopped down in it.

"Right," he said. "You said something about a virus corrupting the processing code. That, I'm afraid, is impossible."

He hit a few keys on his controller and a stream of data appeared on the large monitor overhead.

"It's not impossible," I insisted. "The virus has totally infected Lifelight. It mutates people's thoughts. Instead of giving them the ideal experience, it finds what they're afraid of and hurts them. The phaders had to suspend the grid or a lot of people would-"

"They suspended the grid?" Zetlin asked in surprise.

"Yes! All over Veelox, people are in limbo waiting-"

"I know what it means," Zetlin snapped at me. He hit a few more keys and examined more data. He then stood up and announced, "I see no evidence of anything wrong."

"That's because your jump is isolated," I said. "Look, I'm on shaky ground here. I don't really know how this works."

"Then what are you doing here?" he demanded. "What kind of phader are you?"

"We're not phaders," I answered nervously. "We're here to tell you that unless we get the origin code, millions of people across Veelox are going to die."

Zetlin looked me square in the eye. "You have not convinced me," he said. "I believe this virus does not exist; therefore I will not give you the origin code. Good-bye."

Our mission was about to fail miserably. I had no idea of what to say or do to turn it around. But then we heard a familiar voice come from across the room.

"The virus is real," it said.

We all spun to see Aja. "I know it's real, because I created it. I'm a phader, and I may be responsible for the deaths of millions of people across Veelox."

(CONTINUED).

VEELOX.

"I know you!" Zetlin said to Aja. "You're one of the phaders from Rubic City. What is going on here? Why have these people invaded my privacy?"

Aja looked nervous. She was facing the big boss and didn't have good things to tell him.

"My name is Aja Killian," she said, her voice cracking. "I apologize. Dr. Zetlin. I would never think of entering your jump if it weren't a dire emergency. I sent my friends to find you because I need to be in the Alpha Core to hold back the Reality Bug."

"Reality Bug?" Zetlin shouted angrily. He looked like his head was about to explode. For a second I thought he was going to really tee off on Aja, but he got his emotions under control and spoke calmly. "Please explain," he demanded.

Aja hesitated. I'm sure the idea of telling the most important man in the history of Veelox that his invention was on the verge of blowing a major fuse was pretty tough. Aja's rock-solid self-confidence was looking pretty shaky.

"It's okay, Aja," I said, trying to give her encouragement. "Tell him what's going on."

"Veelox is in danger," she said nervously. "Dr. Zetlin, since you jumped into Lifelight, the people of Veelox have abandoned reality. They prefer to live in the fantasy of Lifelight than in their own lives."

"I don't blame them," Zetlin said.

"But you should!" Aja said with passion. "Your invention was supposed to give people a break from reality, not replace it. Our cities are abandoned. Food is disappearing. People don't communicate with real people anymore, they're too busy living inside their own heads and creating characters to act in their own personal dramas. Nothing is happening. Nothing is moving forward. Nothing is real. Veelox is dead."

Zetlin dismissed this and asked, "What is this Reality Bug?"

Now came the really tough part for Aja. I hoped she wouldn't get into the whole story about Travelers and Saint Dane, because right now, it didn't matter.

"I couldn't stand to let Veelox die," she said. "So I wrote a program. The idea was to make the jumps less than perfect. The program attached to the data stream of each jumper to alter the experience slightly. I thought that if the jumps became less than perfect, people wouldn't spend so much time in them and would choose to return to their real lives."

Zetlin nodded. His jaw muscles clenched. He had just heard that somebody had sabotaged his life's work. I had to give him credit, he kept his head on straight and didn't go nuts on Aja. At least not yet.

"But thisa programa didn't work the way you planned?" he asked calmly, though he said the word "program" with total disdain.

Aja swallowed hard and said, "No. The Reality Bug was far more powerful than I thought. It acted like a wild virus that spread through the grid. Not only did it alter the jumps, it made them hyperrealistic. The jumps became dangerous. We couldn't stop it and had to suspend the grid. Now most everyone on Veelox is in limbo, waiting for me to purge the Reality Bug."

"And for that you need the origin code," Zetlin concluded.

Aja nodded. "There's one more thing," she said. "Since my friends entered your jump, I've been desperately programming firewalls into the alpha grid to keep the Reality Bug out of your jump. It's coming after you, sir. Every time I throw one up, the virus mutates and finds a way around my block. I don't know how much longer I can keep fooling it. Sooner or later, the Reality Bug is going to find its way into your jump, and you'll be in danger too."

Oh, great. That was a fairly crappy piece of news.

Zetlin stared at Aja's image for a moment, weighing what she had said. He then turned and sat back down in his control chair. "I won't give you the code," he said with finality.

Uh-oh.

"You must!" Loor demanded. "Holding it back is suicide. No, it is genocide."

"I told you before," he snapped. "I won't go back. If Lifelight is destroyed, so be it. Whoever survives will rebuild Veelox. I don't care one way or the other. This is my reality now. I'll deal with whatever it throws at me."

"But I can stop it from happening," Aja shouted. "I can save Lifelight."

"From what you tell me," Zetlin said, "Lifelight shouldn't be saved."

"But at what cost?" I asked. "The deaths of millions?" "I have accepted calmly. "To me, Veelox doesn't exist. I will only deal with the reality of my life here. I belong here in the Barbican, with these people, in this body, with this life."

"But it's a life you don't deserve," I said.

Zetlin shot me a look. I didn't know where I was going with this, but I had to do something to get him to give up that code.

"How can you say that?" he asked defensively, jumping to his feet. "I built Lifelight."

"So what?" I continued. "From what I can see, it's all just math. Being good at math doesn't earn you a perfect life. What about the people around here? These are the only people in your life. Your only friends. Do you think they really care about you?"

"Of course they do," Zetlin answered quickly.

"Why? Because you're the Z? The guy who races with them and plays games and throws parties? Is that why they care?"

"That's exactly why," Zetlin said with confidence. "They love me."

"But they aren't real," I said. "You created them. They're puppets who do what you say. You could be a monster and they'd still love you. You took the easy way out, Zetlin. Instead of repairing your real life, you lost yourself in a fantasy. Don't you get lonely?"

Zetlin's eyes darted around the room. I was getting to him. To be honest, I think part of it was the Traveler in me at work.

"Lonely?" he said, sounding shaky. "I am surrounded by friends. We have tournaments and games. I'm the champion slickshot racer!"

"Sure you are!" I shot back. "I'll bet you're the champion at everything. It's easy when all you have to do is imagine it. I'll bet nobody ever says no to you, do they?"

This question really threw Zetlin. He didn't have to answer it.

"There's nobody to challenge you," I said softly. "Nobody to argue with. Nobody to push you and help you find new ideas. For a guy like you, that sounds like death."