The Reality Bug by D.J. MacHale Read Free Book Online

She then looked at the vedder and said, “He’s always making dumb jokes.”
    The vedder wasn’t laughing. “Give me your hand, please.”
    â€œNot if you’re gonna poke me again,” I protested.
    Goth boy gave Aja an impatient look.
    â€œHold up your hand, Pendragon,” she commanded.
    Reluctantly I held up my hand again, prepared for more pain. But the vedder quickly snapped a silver bracelet around my wrist. It looked more like a high-tech device than jewelry. It was smaller than Aja’s, about two inches wide, with three square buttons that were flush to the surface.
    â€œEnjoy your jump,” the vedder said, though I was betting he didn’t care one way or the other.
    I smiled at the guy anyway, then followed Aja toward a door at the far end of the room. “Who was the kid in the picture?” I whispered.
    â€œDr. Zetlin, the person who invented Lifelight.”
    â€œA kid invented all of this?” I asked, unbelieving.
    â€œA very smart kid,” was her answer.
    â€œYeah, no kidding.”
    Aja then pushed open a door, and we continued into a long corridor that can be best described as mission control … times about a thousand. The walls were made of glass. Through them I saw a series of high-tech workstations that looked like they each had enough electronic muscle to launch about a million space shuttles. Each station was its own separate, enclosed cubicle. I guessed that there were around fifty of these workstations on either side of the corridor. Then there was a whole nother row of workstations above them. So a rough guess was that there were around two hundred of these high-tech rigs.
    There was one phader in each, wearing the signature blue jumpsuit and sitting in the coolest looking chair I had ever seen. It was black, with a high back, and wings near the head that spread out to either side. The arms of the chair were wide, with a silver control panel on each side where the phader could touch the myriad of buttons that worked … whatever.
    In front of each phader was a wall of computer screens. A quick count told me that each phader was looking at around thirty screens. Here’s the strange part (as if everything up until now wasn’t strange): Each of the computer monitors was showing a different movie. Multiply the thirty movies playing in each cubicle by two hundred cubicles and that’s like six thousand movies, all playing at the same time. I figured this might be some kind of satellite TV operation that beamed shows all over Veelox.
    I couldn’t have been more wrong.
    â€œThis is where I work,” Aja explained. “It’s called the ‘core.’ The phaders troubleshoot the hardware, upgrade when necessary, and monitor the jumps to make sure everyone is okay.”
    â€œAnd what do the vedders do?”
    â€œThey take care of the jumpers physically. That’s why they took your blood. They make sure the jumpers are safe and healthy.”
    â€œWhat are the movies they’re watching?” I asked.
    â€œThose are the jumps, ” Aja answered, trying not to sound too impatient.
    I looked through the glass at one of the banks of monitors and saw that the action on the screens wasn’t continuous. Every few seconds each screen changed to another bit of action, like turning the channels on a TV. I focused on one screen to see a hot sailboat gliding through tropical waters. The image then changed to the point of view of a skier flying down a snowy mountain, expertly dodging through trees. On the screen next to that I saw what looked like a stadium full of people watching a game that was like soccer, but played with a big orange ball the size of a monster pumpkin. That screen then changed to the quiet scene of a cozy fireplace and an older woman drinking tea.
    â€œPeople come here to watch movies?” I asked.
    Aja chuckled. “Something like that. Come on.”
    She led me down the long