Ready Player Onefree.epubebooks.net/ebooks/books/ready-player-one-ok.pdf · “Pure geek heaven....

UNCORRECTEDPROOF.NOTFORRESALE

MoreAdvancePraise

forReadyPlayerOne

“[An]adrenalineshotofuncutgeekdom...sweet,self-deprecatingWade,whoseuniverseisanoddmixoftherealpastandthevirtualpresent,istheperfectlovable/unlikelyhero.”

—PublishersWeekly

“Thepure,unfetteredbrainscreamofachildofthe’80s,likeadreammythirteen-year-oldselfwouldhavehadafterbingeingonPopRocksandCoke....Icouldn’tputitdown.”

—CharlesArdai,EdgarAward–winningauthorandproducerofHaven

“Puregeekheaven.ErnestCline’sherocompetesinavirtualworldwithlife-and-deathstakes—whichisonlyfitting,becausehe’sfightingtomakehisdreamsintoreality.Clineblendsadystopicfuturewithmeticulouslydetailednostalgiatocreateastorythatwillresonateintheheartofeverytruenerd.”

—ChristopherFarnsworth,authorofBloodOath

“Afantasticadventuresetinafuturisticworldwitharetroheart.OnceIstartedreading,Ididn’twanttoputitdownandIcouldn’twaittopickitbackup.”

—S.G.Browne,authorofBreathers

“Clinehassomehowmanagedtojackintothenervoussystemofsomegreatwarmcollectivegeek-dreamnostalgiaofthe’70sand’80sandusedtheprecioustouchstoneshe’srediscoveredtheretocreateanadventurethat’salmostmoreexperiencedthanread....ReadyPlayerOneletmerompthroughsomeofthebestmemoriesofmyyouth.”

—PaulMalmont,authorofTheChinatownDeathCloudPeril

“ImaginethatDungeonsandDragonsandan’80svideoarcademadehot,sweetlove,andtheirchildwasraisedinAzeroth.Ifyou’renotalreadyexperiencinganerdgasmatthethought,Idon’twanttoknowyou.”

—JohnScalzi,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofOldMan’sWar

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indda

5/24/112:04PM

“ReadyPlayerOneexpertlyminesacopiousveinof1980spopculture,catapultingthereaderonalight-speedadventureinanadvancedbutbackward-lookingfuture.Ifthisbookwerealivingroom,itwouldbewood-paneled.Ifitwereshoes,itwouldbehigh-tops.Andifitwereasong,well,itwouldhavetobe‘EyeoftheTiger.’Ireally,reallylovedit.”

—DanielH.Wilson,authorofRobopocalypse

“Iwasblownawaybythisbook....ErnieClinehaspulledtheraddestofallmagictricks:He’smanagedtowriteanovelthat’satonceseriousandplayful,thatisasfuntoreadasitisharrowing.Abookofideas,apotboiler,agame-within-a-novel,aseriousscience-fictionepic,acomicpop-culturemash-up—callthisnovelwhatyouwill,butReadyPlayerOnewilldefyeverylabelyoutrytoputonit.Here,finally,isthisgeneration’sNeuromancer.”

—WillLavender,NewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofObedience

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddb

5/24/112:04PM

Player

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddi

5/24/112:04PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddii

5/24/112:04PM

Player

ErnestCline

CrownPublishers

NewYork

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddiii

5/24/112:04PM

Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,places,andincidentseitheraretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualpersons,livingordead,events,orlocalesisentirelycoincidental.

Allrightsreserved.

PublishedintheUnitedStatesbyCrownPublishers,animprintoftheCrownPublishingGroup,adivisionofRandomHouse,Inc.,NewYork.

www.crownpublishing.com

crownandtheCrowncolophonareregisteredtrademarksofRandomHouse,Inc.

LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataCline,Ernest.

Readyplayerone:anovel/ErnestCline.—1sted.

1.Regression(Civilization)—Fiction.2.Virtualreality—Fiction.3.Utopias—

Fiction.4.Puzzles—Fiction.I.Title.

PS3603.L548R432011

813'.6—dc222011015247

ISBN978-0-307-88743-6

eISBN978-0-307-88745-0

PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica

BookdesignbyRalphFowler/rlfdesign

JacketdesignbyChristopherBrand

10987654321

FirstEdition

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddiv

5/24/112:04PM

ForSusanandLibby

BecausethereisnomapforwherewearegoingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddv

5/24/112:04PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.inddvi

5/24/112:04PM

Everyonemyagerememberswheretheywereandwhattheyweredoingwhentheyfirstheardaboutthecontest.Iwassittinginmyhideoutwatchingcartoonswhenthenewsbulletinbrokeinonmyvideofeed,announcingthatJamesHallidayhaddiedduringthenight.

I’dheardofHalliday,ofcourse.Everyonehad.HewasthevideogamedesignerresponsibleforcreatingtheOASIS,amassivelymultiplayeronlinegamethathadgraduallyevolvedintothegloballynetworkedvirtualrealitymostofhumanitynowusedonadailybasis.TheunprecedentedsuccessoftheOASIShadmadeHallidayoneofthewealthiestpeopleintheworld.

Atfirst,Icouldn’tunderstandwhythemediawasmakingsuchabigdealofthebillionaire’sdeath.Afterall,thepeopleofPlanetEarthhadotherconcerns.Theongoingenergycrisis.Catastrophicclimatechange.

Widespreadfamine,poverty,anddisease.Halfadozenwars.Youknow:

“dogsandcatslivingtogether...masshysteria!”Normally,thenewsfeedsdidn’tinterrupteveryone’sinteractivesitcomsandsoapoperasunlesssomethingreallymajorhadhappened.Liketheoutbreakofsomenewkillervirus,oranothermajorcityvanishinginamushroomcloud.

Bigstufflikethat.Asfamousashewas,Halliday’sdeathshouldhavewarranted

onlyabriefsegmentontheeveningnews,sotheunwashedmassescouldshaketheirheadsinenvywhenthenewscastersannouncedtheob-scenelylargeamountofmoneythatwouldbedoledouttotherichman’sheirs.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd1

5/24/112:04PM

2:ErnestCline

Butthatwastherub.JamesHallidayhadnoheirs.

Hehaddiedasixty-seven-year-oldbachelor,withnolivingrelativesand,bymostaccounts,withoutasinglefriend.He’dspentthelastfifteenyearsofhislifeinself-imposedisolation,duringwhichtime—iftherumorsweretobebelieved—he’dgonecompletelyinsane.

Sotherealjaw-droppingnewsthatJanuarymorning,thenewsthathadeveryonefromTorontotoTokyocrappingintheircornflakes,concernedthecontentsofHalliday’slastwillandtestament,andthefateofhisvastfortune.

Hallidayhadpreparedashortvideomessage,alongwithinstructionsthatitbereleasedtotheworldmediaatthetimeofhisdeath.He’dalsoarrangedtohaveacopyofthevideoe-mailedtoeverysingleOASISuserthatsamemorning.Istillrememberhearingthefamiliarelectronicchimewhenitarrivedinmyinbox,justafewsecondsafterIsawthatfirstnewsbulletin.

HisvideomessagewasactuallyameticulouslyconstructedshortfilmtitledAnorak’sInvitation.Afamouseccentric,Hallidayhadharboredalifelongobsessionwiththe1980s,thedecadeduringwhichhe’dbeenateenager,andAnorak’sInvitationwascrammedwithobscure’80spopculturereferences,nearlyallofwhichwerelostonmethefirsttimeIviewedit.

Theentirevideowasjustoverfiveminutesinlength,andinthedaysandweeksthatfollowed,itwouldbecomethemostscrutinizedpieceoffilminhistory,surpassingeventheZapruderfilmintheamountofpainstakingframe-by-frameanalysisdevotedtoit.MyentiregenerationwouldcometoknoweverysecondofHalliday’smessagebyheart.

Anorak’sInvitationbeginswiththesoundoftrumpets,theopeningofanoldsongcalled“DeadMan’sParty.”

Thesongplaysoveradarkscreenforthefirstfewseconds,untilthetrumpetsarejoinedbyaguitar,andthat’swhenHallidayappears.Buthe’snotasixty-seven-year-oldman,ravagedbytimeandillness.HelooksjustashedidonthecoverofTimemagazinebackin2014,atall,thin,healthymaninhisearlyforties,withunkempthairandhistrademarkhorn-rimmedeyeglasses.He’salsowearingthesameclothingheworeintheTimecoverphoto:fadedjeansandavintageSpaceInvadersT-shirt.

Hallidayisatahigh-schooldancebeingheldinalargegymnasium.He’sClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd2

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:3

surroundedbyteenagerswhoseclothing,hairstyles,anddancemovesallindicatethatthetimeperiodisthelate1980s.*Hallidayisdancing,too—

somethingnooneeversawhimdoinreallife.Grinningmaniacally,hespinsinrapidcircles,swinginghisarmsandheadintimewiththesong,flawlesslycyclingthroughseveralsignature’80sdancemoves.ButHallidayhasnodancepartner.Heis,asthesayinggoes,dancingwithhimself.

Afewlinesoftextappearbrieflyatthelowerleft-handcornerofthescreen,listingthenameoftheband,thesong’stitle,therecordlabel,andtheyearofrelease,asifthiswereanoldmusicvideoairingonMTV:OingoBoingo,“DeadMan’sParty,”MCARecords,1985.

Whenthelyricskickin,Hallidaybeginstolip-synchalong,stillgyrating:“Alldressedupwithnowheretogo.Walkingwithadeadmanovermyshoulder.Don’trunaway,it’sonlyme....”

Heabruptlystopsdancingandmakesacuttingmotionwithhisrighthand,

silencingthemusic.Atthesamemoment,thedancersandthegymnasiumbehindhimvanish,andthescenearoundhimsuddenlychanges.

Hallidaynowstandsatthefrontofafuneralparlor,nexttoanopencasket.†Asecond,mucholderHallidayliesinsidethecasket,hisbodyemaciatedandravagedbycancer.Shinyquarterscovereachofhiseyelids.‡

TheyoungerHallidaygazesdownatthecorpseofhisolderselfwithmocksadness,thenturnstoaddresstheassembledmourners.§Hallidaysnapshisfingersandascrollappearsinhisrighthand.Heopensitwithaflourishanditunfurlstothefloor,unravelingdowntheaisleinfrontofhim.Hebreaksthefourthwall,addressingtheviewer,andbeginstoread.

“I,JamesDonovanHalliday,beingofsoundmindanddisposingmemory,doherebymake,publish,anddeclarethisinstrumenttobemylastwillandtestament,herebyrevokinganyandallwillsandcodicilsbyme

*CarefulanalysisofthisscenerevealsthatalloftheteenagersbehindHallidayareactuallyextrasfromvariousJohnHughesteenfilmswhohavebeendigitallycut-and-pastedintothevideo.

†Hissurroundingsareactuallyfromasceneinthe1989filmHeathers.Hallidayappearstohavedigitallyre-createdthefuneralparlorsetandtheninsertedhimselfintoit.

‡High-resolutionscrutinyrevealsthatbothquartersweremintedin1984.

§ThemournersareactuallyallactorsandextrasfromthesamefuneralsceneinHeathers.

WinonaRyderandChristianSlaterareclearlyvisibleintheaudience,sittingneartheback.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd3

5/24/112:04PM

4:ErnestCline

atanytimeheretoforemade....”Hecontinuesreading,fasterandfaster,plowingthroughseveralmoreparagraphsoflegalese,untilhe’sspeakingsorapidlythatthewordsareunintelligible.Thenhestopsabruptly.“Forgetit,”hesays.“Evenatthatspeed,itwouldtakemeamonthtoreadthewholething.Sadtosay,Idon’thavethatkindoftime.”Hedropsthescrollanditvanishesinashowerofgolddust.“Letmejustgiveyouthehighlights.”

Thefuneralparlorvanishes,andthescenechangesonceagain.Hallidaynowstandsinfrontofanimmensebankvaultdoor.“Myentireestate,includingacontrollingshareofstockinmycompany,GregariousSimulationSystems,istobeplacedinescrowuntilsuchtimeasasingleconditionIhavesetforthinmywillismet.Thefirstindividualtomeetthatconditionwillinheritmyentirefortune,currentlyvaluedinexcessoftwohundredandfortybilliondollars.”

ThevaultdoorswingsopenandHallidaywalksinside.Theinteriorofthevaultisenormous,anditcontainsahugestackofgoldbars,roughlythesizeofalargehouse.“Here’sthedoughI’mputtingupforgrabs,”Hallidaysays,grinningbroadly.“Whatthehell.Youcan’ttakeitwithyou,right?”

Hallidayleansagainstthestackofgoldbars,andthecamerapullsintightonhisface.“Now,I’msureyou’rewondering,whatdoyouhavetodotogetyourhandsonallthismoolah?Well,holdyourhorses,kids.I’mgettingtothat....”Hepausesdramatically,hisexpressionchangingtothatofachildabouttorevealaverybigsecret.

Hallidaysnapshisfingersagainandthevaultdisappears.Inthesameinstant,HallidayshrinksandmorphsintoasmallboywearingbrowncorduroysandafadedTheMuppetShowT-shirt.*TheyoungHallidaystandsinaclutteredlivingroomwithburntorangecarpeting,wood-paneledwalls,andkitschylate-’70sdecor.A21-inchZenithtelevisionsitsnearby,withanAtari2600gameconsolehookeduptoit.

“ThiswasthefirstvideogamesystemIeverowned,”Hallidaysays,nowinachild’svoice.“AnAtari2600.IgotitforChristmasin1979.”

HeplopsdowninfrontoftheAtari,picksupajoystick,andbeginstoplay.“Myfavoritegamewasthisone,”hesays,noddingattheTVscreen,

*Hallidaynowlooksexactlyashedidinaschoolphototakenin1980,whenhewaseightyearsold.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd4

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:5

whereasmallsquareistravelingthroughaseriesofsimplemazes.“ItwascalledAdventure.Likemanyearlyvideogames,Adventurewasdesignedandprogrammedbyjustoneperson.Butbackthen,Atarirefusedtogiveitsprogrammerscreditfortheirwork,sothenameofagame’screatordidn’tactuallyappearanywhereonthepackaging.”OntheTVscreen,weseeHallidayuseaswordtoslayareddragon,althoughduetothegame’scrudelow-resolutiongraphics,thislooksmorelikeasquareusinganarrowtostabadeformedduck.

“SotheguywhocreatedAdventure,amannamedWarrenRobinett,decidedtohidehisnameinsidethegameitself.Hehidakeyinoneofthegame’slabyrinths.Ifyoufoundthiskey,asmallpixel-sizedgraydot,youcoulduseittoenterasecretroomwhereRobinetthadhiddenhisname.”

OntheTV,Hallidayguideshissquareprotagonistintothegame’ssecretroom,wherethewordscreatedbywarrenrobinettappearinthecenterofthescreen.

“This,”Hallidaysays,pointingtothescreenwithgenuinereverence,

“wastheveryfirstvideogameEasteregg.Robinetthiditinhisgame’scodewithouttellingasoul,andAtarimanufacturedandshippedAdventureallovertheworldwithoutknowingaboutthesecretroom.Theydidn’tfindoutabouttheEasteregg’sexistenceuntilafewmonthslater,whenkidsallovertheworldbegantodiscoverit.Iwasoneofthosekids,andfindingRobinett’sEastereggforthefirsttimewasoneofthecoolestvideogamingexperiencesofmylife.”

TheyoungHallidaydropshisjoystickandstands.Ashedoes,thelivingroomfadesaway,andthesceneshiftsagain.Hallidaynowstandsinadimcavern,wherelightfromunseentorchesflickersoffthedampwalls.

Inthesameinstant,Halliday’sappearancealsochangesonceagain,ashemorphsintohisfamousOASISavatar,Anorak—atall,robedwizardwitha

slightlymorehandsomeversionoftheadultHalliday’sface(minustheeyeglasses).Anorakisdressedinhistrademarkblackrobes,withhisavatar’semblem(alargecalligraphicletter“A”)embroideredoneachsleeve.

“BeforeIdied,”Anoraksays,speakinginamuchdeepervoice,“IcreatedmyownEasteregg,andhiditsomewhereinsidemymostpopularvideogame—theOASIS.ThefirstpersontofindmyEastereggwillinheritmyentirefortune.”

Anotherdramaticpause.

“Theeggiswellhidden.Ididn’tjustleaveitlyingunderarocksome-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd5

5/24/112:04PM

6:ErnestCline

where.Isupposeyoucouldsaythatit’slockedinsideasafethatisburiedinasecretroomthatlieshiddenatthecenterofamazelocatedsomewhere”—hereachesuptotaphisrighttemple—“uphere.

“Butdon’tworry.I’veleftafewclueslyingaroundtogeteveryonestarted.Andhere’sthefirstone.”Anorakmakesagrandgesturewithhisrighthand,andthreekeysappear,spinningslowlyintheairinfrontofhim.Theyappeartobemadeofcopper,jade,andclearcrystal.Asthekeyscontinuetospin,Anorakrecitesapieceofverse,andashespeakseachline,itappearsbrieflyinflamingsubtitlesacrossthebottomofscreen:

Threehiddenkeysopenthreesecretgates

Whereintheerrantwillbetestedforworthytraits

Andthosewiththeskilltosurvivethesestraits

WillreachTheEndwheretheprizeawaits

Ashefinishes,thejadeandcrystalkeysvanish,leavingonlythecopperkey,whichnowhangsonachainaroundAnorak’sneck.

ThecamerafollowsAnorakasheturnsandcontinuesfartherintothedarkcavern.Afewsecondslater,hearrivesatapairofmassivewoodendoorssetintothecavern’srockywall.Thesedoorsarebandedwithsteel,andthereareshieldsanddragonscarvedintotheirsurfaces.“Icouldn’tplaytestthisparticulargame,soIworrythatImayhavehiddenmyEastereggalittletoowell.Madeittoodifficulttoreach.I’mnotsure.Ifthat’sthecase,it’stoolatetochangeanythingnow.SoIguesswe’llsee.”

Anorakthrowsopenthedoubledoors,revealinganimmensetreasureroomfilledwithpilesofglitteringgoldcoinsandjewel-encrustedgob-lets.*Thenhestepsintotheopendoorwayandturnstofacetheviewer,stretchingouthisarmstoholdopenthegiantdoubledoors.†

*Analysisrevealsdozensofcuriousitemshiddenamongthemoundsoftreasure,mostnotably:severalearlyhomecomputers(anAppleIIe,aCommodore64,anAtari800XL,andaTRS-80ColorComputer2),dozensofvideogamecontrollersforavarietyofgamesystems,andhundredsofpolyhedraldicelikethoseusedinoldtabletoprole-playinggames.

†Afreeze-frameofthissceneappearsnearlyidenticaltoapaintingbyJeffEasleythatappearedonthecoveroftheDungeonMaster’sGuide,aDungeons&Dragonsrulebookpublishedin1983.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd6

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:7

“Sowithoutfurtherado,”Anorakannounces,“letthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegin!”Thenhevanishesinaflashoflight,leavingtheviewertogazethroughtheopendoorwayattheglitteringmoundsoftreasurethatlaybeyond.

Thenthescreenfadestoblack.

Attheendofthevideo,Hallidayincludedalinktohispersonalwebsite,which

hadchangeddrasticallyonthemorningofhisdeath.Foroveradecade,theonlythingpostedtherehadbeenashortloopinganimationthatshowedhisavatar,Anorak,sittinginamedievallibrary,hunchedoverascarredworktable,mixingpotionsandporingoverdustyspellbooks,withalargepaintingofablackdragonvisibleonthewallbehindhim.

Butnowthatanimationwasgone,andinitsplacetherewasahigh-scorelistlikethosethatusedtoappearinoldcoin-operatedvideogames.

Thelisthadtennumberedspots,andeachdisplayedtheinitialsJDH—

JamesDonovanHalliday—followedbyascoreofsixzeros.Thishigh-scorelistquicklycametobeknownas“theScoreboard.”

JustbelowtheScoreboardwasaniconthatlookedlikeasmallleather-boundbook,whichlinkedtoafreedownloadablecopyofAnorak’sAlmanac,acollectionofhundredsofHalliday’sundatedjournalentries.

TheAlmanacwasoverathousandpageslong,butitcontainedfewdetailsaboutHalliday’spersonallifeorhisday-to-dayactivities.Mostoftheentrieswerehisstream-of-consciousnessobservationsonvariousclassicvideogames,science-fictionandfantasynovels,movies,comicbooks,and

’80spopculture,mixedwithhumorousdiatribesdenouncingeverythingfromorganizedreligiontodietsoda.

TheHunt,asthecontestcametobeknown,quicklywoveitswayintoglobalculture.Likewinningthelottery,findingHalliday’sEastereggbecameapopularfantasyamongadultsandchildrenalike.Itwasagameanyonecouldplay,andatfirst,thereseemedtobenorightorwrongwaytoplayit.TheonlythingAnorak’sAlmanacseemedtoindicatewasthatafamiliaritywithHalliday’svariousobsessionswouldbeessentialtofindingtheegg.Thisledtoaglobalfascinationwith1980spopculture.Fiftyyearsafterthedecadehadended,themovies,music,games,andfashionsofthe1980swerealltherageonceagain.By2041,spikedhairandacid-washedjeanswerebackinstyle,andcoversofhit’80spopsongsbycon-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd7

5/24/112:04PM

8:ErnestCline

temporarybandsdominatedthemusiccharts.Peoplewhohadactuallybeenteenagersinthe1980s,allnowapproachingoldage,hadthestrangeexperienceofseeingthefadsandfashionsoftheiryouthembracedandstudiedbytheirgrandchildren.

Anewsubculturewasborn,composedofthemillionsofpeoplewhonowdevotedeveryfreemomentoftheirlivestosearchingforHalliday’segg.Atfirst,theseindividualswereknownsimplyas“egghunters,”butthiswasquicklytruncatedtothenickname“gunters.”

DuringthefirstyearoftheHunt,beingagunterwashighlyfashion-able,andnearlyeveryOASISuserclaimedtobeone.

WhenthefirstanniversaryofHalliday’sdeatharrived,thefervorsurroundingthecontestbegantodiedown.Anentireyearhadpassedandnoonehadfoundanything.Notasinglekeyorgate.PartoftheproblemwasthesheersizeoftheOASIS.Itcontainedthousandsofsimulatedworldswherethekeysmightbehidden,anditcouldtakeagunteryearstoconductathoroughsearchofanyoneofthem.

Despiteallofthe“professional”gunterswhoboastedontheirblogsthattheyweregettingclosertoabreakthrougheveryday,thetruthgraduallybecameapparent:Noonereallyevenknewexactlywhatitwastheywerelookingfor,orwheretostartlookingforit.

Anotheryearpassed.

Andanother.

Stillnothing.

Thegeneralpubliclostallinterestinthecontest.Peoplebegantoassumeitwasalljustanoutlandishhoaxperpetratedbyarichnutjob.Othersbelievedthateveniftheeggreallydidexist,noonewasevergoingtofindit.Meanwhile,theOASIScontinuedtoevolveandgrowinpopularity,protectedfromtakeoverattemptsandlegalchallengesbytheironcladtermsofHalliday’swillandthearmyofrabidlawyershehadtaskedwithadministeringhisestate.

Halliday’sEasteregggraduallymovedintotherealmofurbanlegend,andtheever-dwindlingtribeofguntersgraduallybecametheobjectofridicule.Eachyear,ontheanniversaryofHalliday’sdeath,newscastersjokinglyreportedontheircontinuedlackofprogress.Andeachyear,moregunterscalleditquits,concludingthatHallidayhadindeedmadetheeggimpossibletofind.

Andanotheryearwentby.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd8

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:9

Andanother.

Then,ontheeveningofFebruary11,2045,anavatar’snameappearedatthetopoftheScoreboard,forthewholeworldtosee.Afterfivelongyears,theCopperKeyhadfinallybeenfound,byaneighteen-year-oldkidlivinginatrailerparkontheoutskirtsofOklahomaCity.

Thatkidwasme.

Dozensofbooks,cartoons,movies,andminiserieshaveattemptedtotellthestoryofeverythingthathappenednext,buteverysingleoneofthemgotitwrong.SoIwanttosettherecordstraight,onceandforall.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd9

5/24/112:04PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd10

5/24/112:04PM

LevelOne

Beinghumantotallysucksmostofthetime.

Videogamesaretheonlythingthat

makelifebearable.

—Anorak’sAlmanac,Chapter91,Verses1–2

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd11

5/24/112:04PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd12

5/24/112:04PM

Iwasjoltedawakebythesoundofgunfireinoneoftheneighboringstacks.Theshotswerefollowedbyafewminutesofmuffledshoutingandscreaming,thensilence.

Gunfirewasn’tuncommoninthestacks,butitstillshookmeup.IknewIprobablywouldn’tbeabletofallbackasleep,soIdecidedtokilltheremaininghoursuntildawnbybrushinguponafewcoin-opclassics.Galaga,Defender,Asteroids.ThesegameswereoutdateddigitaldinosaursthathadbecomemuseumpieceslongbeforeIwasborn.ButIwasagunter,soIdidn’tthinkofthemasquaintlow-resantiques.Tome,theywerehallowedartifacts.Pillarsofthepantheon.WhenIplayedtheclassics,Ididsowithadeterminedsortofreverence.

Iwascurledupinanoldsleepingbaginthecornerofthetrailer’stinylaundryroom,wedgedintothegapbetweenthewallandthedryer.Iwasn’twelcomeinmyaunt’sroomacrossthehall,whichwasfinebyme.

Ipreferredtocrashinthelaundryroomanyway.Itwaswarm,itaffordedmealimitedamountofprivacy,andthewirelessreceptionwasn’ttoobad.

And,asanaddedbonus,theroomsmelledlikeliquiddetergentandfabricsoftener.Therestofthetrailerreekedofcatpissandabjectpoverty.

MostofthetimeIsleptinmyhideout.Butthetemperaturehaddroppedbelowzerothepastfewnights,andasmuchasIhatedstayingatmyaunt’splace,itstillbeatfreezingtodeath.

Atotaloffifteenpeoplelivedinmyaunt’strailer.Shesleptinthesmall-estofitsthreebedrooms.TheDeppertslivedinthebedroomadjacenttoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd13

5/24/112:04PM

14:ErnestCline

hers,andtheMillersoccupiedthelargemasterbedroomattheendofthehall.Thereweresixofthem,andtheypaidthelargestshareoftherent.

Ourtrailerwasn’tascrowdedassomeoftheotherunitsinthestacks.Itwasadouble-wide.Plentyofroomforeverybody.

Ipulledoutmylaptopandpowerediton.Itwasabulky,heavybeast,almosttenyearsold.I’dfounditinatrashbinbehindtheabandonedstripmallacrossthehighway.I’dbeenabletocoaxitbacktolifebyreplacingitssystemmemoryandreloadingthestone-ageoperatingsystem.

Theprocessorwasslowerthanaslothbycurrentstandards,butitwasfineformyneeds.Thelaptopservedasmyportableresearchlibrary,videoarcade,andhometheatersystem.Itsharddrivewasfilledwitholdbooks,movies,TVshowepisodes,songfiles,andnearlyeveryvideogamemadeinthetwentiethcentury.

IbootedupmyemulatorandselectedRobotron:2084,oneofmyall-timefavoritegames.I’dalwaysloveditsfreneticpaceandbrutalsimplic-ity.Robotronwasallaboutinstinctandreflexes.Playingoldvideogamesneverfailedtoclearmymindandsetmeatease.IfIwasfeelingdepressedor

frustratedaboutmylotinlife,allIhadtodowastapthePlayerOnebutton,andmyworrieswouldinstantlyslipawayasmymindfocuseditselfontherelentlesspixelatedonslaughtonthescreeninfrontofme.

There,insidethegame’stwo-dimensionaluniverse,lifewassimple:It’sjustyouagainstthemachine.Movewithyourlefthand,shootwithyourright,andtrytostayaliveaslongaspossible.

IspentafewhoursblastingthroughwaveafterwaveofBrains,Spher-oids,Quarks,andHulksinmyunendingbattletoSavetheLastHumanFamily!ButeventuallymyfingersstartedtocrampupandIbegantolosemyrhythm.Whenthathappenedatthislevel,thingsdeterioratedquickly.

Iburnedthroughallofmyextralivesinamatterofminutes,andmytwoleast-favoritewordsappearedonthescreen:gameover.

Ishutdowntheemulatorandbegantobrowsethroughmyvideofiles.

Overthepastfiveyears,I’ddownloadedeverysinglemovie,TVshow,andcartoonmentionedinAnorak’sAlmanac.Istillhadn’twatchedallofthemyet,ofcourse.Thatwouldprobablytakedecades.

IselectedanepisodeofFamilyTies,an’80ssitcomaboutamiddle-classfamilylivingincentralOhio.I’ddownloadedtheshowbecauseithadbeenoneofHalliday’sfavorites,andIfiguredtherewasachancethatsomecluerelatedtotheHuntmightbehiddeninoneoftheepisodes.I’dClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd14

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:15

becomeaddictedtotheshowimmediately,andhadnowwatchedall180

episodes,multipletimes.Ineverseemedtogettiredofthem.

Sittingaloneinthedark,watchingtheshowonmylaptop,IalwaysfoundmyselfimaginingthatIlivedinthatwarm,well-lithouse,andthatthosesmiling,

understandingpeopleweremyfamily.Thattherewasnothingsowrongintheworldthatwecouldn’tsortitoutbytheendofasinglehalf-hourepisode(ormaybeatwo-parter,ifitwassomethingreallyserious).

MyownhomelifehadneverevenremotelyresembledtheonedepictedinFamilyTies,whichwasprobablywhyIlovedtheshowsomuch.Iwastheonlychildoftwoteenagers,bothrefugeeswho’dmetinthestackswhereI’dgrownup.Idon’tremembermyfather.WhenIwasjustafewmonthsold,hewasshotdeadwhilelootingagrocerystoreduringapowerblackout.TheonlythingIreallyknewabouthimwasthathelovedcomicbooks.I’dfoundseveraloldflashdrivesinaboxofhisthings,containingcompleterunsofTheAmazingSpider-Man,TheX-Men,andGreenLantern.Mymomoncetoldmethatmydadhadgivenmeanalliterativename,WadeWatts,becausehethoughtitsoundedlikethesecretidentityofasuperhero.LikePeterParkerorClarkKent.Knowingthatmademethinkhemusthavebeenacoolguy,despitehowhe’ddied.

Mymother,Loretta,hadraisedmeonherown.We’dlivedinasmallRV

inanotherpartofthestacks.Shehadtwofull-timeOASISjobs,oneasatelemarketer,theotherasanescortinanonlinebrothel.SheusedtomakemewearearplugsatnightsoIwouldn’thearherinthenextroom,talkingdirtytotricksinothertimezones.Buttheearplugsdidn’tworkverywell,soIwouldwatcholdmoviesinstead,withthevolumeturnedwayup.

IwasintroducedtotheOASISatanearlyage,becausemymotheruseditasavirtualbabysitter.AssoonasIwasoldenoughtowearavisorandapairofhapticgloves,mymomhelpedmecreatemyfirstOASISavatar.

Thenshestuckmeinacornerandwentbacktowork,leavingmetoexploreanentirelynewworld,verydifferentfromtheoneI’dknownupuntilthen.

Fromthatmomenton,IwasmoreorlessraisedbytheOASIS’sinteractiveeducationalprograms,whichanykidcouldaccessforfree.Ispentabigchunkofmychildhoodhangingoutinavirtual-realitysimulationofSesameStreet,singingsongswithfriendlyMuppetsandplayinginteractivegamesthattaughtmehowtowalk,talk,add,subtract,read,write,andshare.OnceI’dmasteredthoseskills,itdidn’ttakemelongtodiscoverthattheOASISwasalsotheworld’sbiggestpubliclibrary,whereClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd15

5/24/112:04PM

16:ErnestCline

evenapennilesskidlikemehadaccesstoeverybookeverwritten,everysongeverrecorded,andeverymovie,televisionshow,videogame,andpieceofartworkevercreated.Thecollectedknowledge,art,andamuse-mentsofallhumancivilizationwerethere,waitingforme.Butgainingaccesstoallofthatinformationturnedouttobesomethingofamixedblessing.BecausethatwaswhenIfoundoutthetruth.

Idon’tknow,maybeyourexperiencedifferedfrommine.Forme,growingupasahumanbeingontheplanetEarthinthetwenty-firstcenturywasarealkickintheteeth.Existentiallyspeaking.

Theworstthingaboutbeingakidwasthatnoonetoldmethetruthaboutmysituation.Infact,theydidtheexactopposite.And,ofcourse,Ibelievedthem,becauseIwasjustakidandIdidn’tknowanybetter.Imean,Christ,mybrainhadn’tevengrowntofullsizeyet,sohowcouldIbeexpectedtoknowwhentheadultswerebullshittingme?

SoIswallowedallofthedarkagesnonsensetheyfedme.Sometimepassed.Igrewupalittle,andIgraduallybegantofigureoutthatprettymucheveryonehadbeenlyingtomeaboutprettymucheverythingsincethemomentIemergedfrommymother’swomb.

Thiswasanalarmingrevelation.

Itgavemetrustissueslaterinlife.

IstartedtofigureouttheuglytruthassoonasIbegantoexplorethefreeOASISlibraries.Thefactswererighttherewaitingforme,hiddeninoldbookswrittenbypeoplewhoweren’tafraidtobehonest.Artistsandscientistsandphilosophersandpoets,manyofthemlongdead.AsIreadthewordsthey’dleftbehind,Ifinallybegantogetagriponthesituation.

Mysituation.Oursituation.Whatmostpeoplereferredtoas“thehumancondition.”

Itwasnotgoodnews.

Iwishsomeonehadjusttoldmethetruthrightupfront,assoonasIwasoldenoughtounderstandit.Iwishsomeonehadjustsaid:

“Here’sthedeal,Wade.You’resomethingcalleda‘humanbeing.’That’sareallysmartkindofanimal.Likeeveryotheranimalonthisplanet,we’redescendedfromasingle-celledorganismthatlivedmillionsofyearsago.Thishappenedbyaprocesscalledevolution,andyou’lllearnmoreaboutitlater.Buttrustme,that’sreallyhowweallgothere.There’sproofofiteverywhere,buriedintherocks.Thatstoryyouheard?AbouthowClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd16

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:17

wewereallcreatedbyasuper-powerfuldudenamedGodwholivesupinthesky?Totalbullshit.ThewholeGodthingisactuallyanancientfairytalethatpeoplehavebeentellingoneanotherforthousandsofyears.Wemadeitallup.LikeSantaClausandtheEasterBunny.

“Oh,andbytheway...there’snoSantaClausorEasterBunny.Alsobullshit.Sorry,kid.Dealwithit.

“You’reprobablywonderingwhathappenedbeforeyougothere.Anawfullotofstuff,actually.Onceweevolvedintohumans,thingsgotprettyinteresting.Wefiguredouthowtogrowfoodanddomesticateanimalssowedidn’thavetospendallofourtimehunting.Ourtribesgotmuchbigger,andwespreadacrosstheentireplanetlikeanunstoppablevirus.Then,afterfightingabunchofwarswitheachotheroverland,resources,andourmade-upgods,weeventuallygotallofourtribesorganizedintoa‘globalcivilization.’But,honestly,itwasn’tallthatorganized,orcivilized,andwecontinuedtofightalotofwarswitheachother.Butwealsofiguredouthowtodoscience,whichhelpedusdeveloptechnology.Forabunchofhairlessapes,we’veactuallymanagedtoinventsomeprettyincrediblethings.Computers.Medicine.Lasers.Microwaveovens.

Artificialhearts.Atomicbombs.Weevensentafewguystothemoonand

broughtthemback.Wealsocreatedaglobalcommunicationsnetworkthatletsusalltalktoeachother,allaroundtheworld,allthetime.Prettyimpressive,right?

“Butthat’swherethebadnewscomesin.Ourglobalcivilizationcameatahugecost.Weneededawholebunchofenergytobuildit,andwegotthatenergybyburningfossilfuels,whichcamefromdeadplantsandanimalsburieddeepintheground.Weusedupmostofthisfuelbeforeyougothere,andnowit’sprettymuchallgone.Thismeansthatwenolongerhaveenoughenergytokeepourcivilizationrunninglikeitwasbefore.Sowe’vehadtocutback.Big-time.WecallthistheGlobalEnergyCrisis,andit’sbeengoingonforawhilenow.

“Also,itturnsoutthatburningallofthosefossilfuelshadsomenastysideeffects,likeraisingthetemperatureofourplanetandscrewinguptheenvironment.Sonowthepolaricecapsaremelting,sealevelsarerising,andtheweatherisallmessedup.Plantsandanimalsaredyingoffinrecordnumbers,andlotsofpeoplearestarvingandhomeless.Andwe’restillfightingwarswitheachother,mostlyoverthefewresourceswehaveleft.

“Basically,kid,whatthisallmeansisthatlifeisalottougherthanitusedtobe,intheGoodOldDays,backbeforeyouwereborn.ThingsusedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd17

5/24/112:04PM

18:ErnestCline

tobeawesome,butnowthey’rekindaterrifying.Tobehonest,thefuturedoesn’tlooktoobright.Youwerebornataprettycrappytimeinhistory.Anditlookslikethingsareonlygonnagetworsefromhereonout.

Humancivilizationisin‘decline.’Somepeopleevensayit’s‘collapsing.’

“You’reprobablywonderingwhat’sgoingtohappentoyou.That’seasy.

Thesamethingisgoingtohappentoyouthathashappenedtoeveryotherhumanbeingwhohaseverlived.You’regoingtodie.Wealldie.

That’sjusthowitis.

“Whathappenswhenyoudie?Well,we’renotcompletelysure.Buttheevidenceseemstosuggestthatnothinghappens.You’rejustdead,yourbrainstopsworking,andthenyou’renotaroundtoaskannoyingquestionsanymore.Thosestoriesyouheard?Aboutgoingtoawonderfulplacecalled‘heaven’wherethereisnomorepainordeathandyouliveforeverinastateofperpetualhappiness?Alsototalbullshit.JustlikeallthatGodstuff.There’snoevidenceofaheavenandthereneverwas.Wemadethatuptoo.Wishfulthinking.Sonowyouhavetolivetherestofyourlifeknowingyou’regoingtodiesomedayanddisappearforever.

“Sorry.”

OK,onsecondthought,maybehonestyisn’tthebestpolicyafterall.

Maybeitisn’tagoodideatotellanewlyarrivedhumanbeingthathe’sbeenbornintoaworldofchaos,pain,andpovertyjustintimetowatcheverythingfalltopieces.Idiscoveredallofthatgraduallyoverseveralyears,anditstillmademefeellikejumpingoffabridge.

Luckily,IhadaccesstotheOASIS,whichwaslikehavinganescapehatchintoabetterreality.TheOASISkeptmesane.Itwasmyplaygroundandmypreschool,amagicalplacewhereanythingwaspossible.

TheOASISisthesettingofallmyhappiestchildhoodmemories.Whenmymomdidn’thavetowork,wewouldloginatthesametimeandplaygamesorgooninteractivestorybookadventurestogether.Sheusedtohavetoforcemetologouteverynight,becauseIneverwantedtoreturntotherealworld.Becausetherealworldsucked.

Ineverblamedmymomforthewaythingswere.Shewasavictimoffateandcruelcircumstance,likeeveryoneelse.Hergenerationhaditthehardest.She’dbeenbornintoaworldofplenty,thenhadtowatchitallslowlyvanish.Morethananything,Irememberfeelingsorryforher.SheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd18

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:19

wasdepressedallthetime,andtakingdrugsseemedtobetheonlythingshetrulyenjoyed.Ofcourse,theywerewhateventuallykilledher.WhenIwaselevenyearsold,sheshotabadbatchofsomethingintoherarmanddiedonourrattyfold-outsofabedwhilelisteningtomusiconanoldmp3

playerI’drepairedandgiventoherthepreviousChristmas.

ThatwaswhenIhadtomoveinwithmymom’ssister,Alice.AuntAlicedidn’ttakemeinoutofkindnessorfamilialresponsibility.Shedidittogettheextrafoodvouchersfromthegovernmenteverymonth.Mostofthetime,Ihadtofindfoodonmyown.Thisusuallywasn’taproblem,becauseIhadatalentforfindingandfixingoldcomputersandbustedOASISconsoles,whichIsoldtopawnshopsortradedforfoodvouchers.Iearnedenoughtokeepfromgoinghungry,whichwasmorethanalotofmyneighborscouldsay.

Theyearaftermymomdied,Ispentalotoftimewallowinginself-pityanddespair.Itriedtolookonthebrightside,toremindmyselfthat,orphanedornot,IwasstillbetteroffthanmostofthekidsinAfrica.AndAsia.AndNorthAmerica,too.I’dalwayshadaroofovermyheadandmorethanenoughfoodtoeat.AndIhadtheOASIS.Mylifewasn’tsobad.Atleastthat’swhatIkepttellingmyself,inavainattempttostaveofftheepiclonelinessInowfelt.

ThentheHuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan.Thatwaswhatsavedme,Ithink.SuddenlyI’dfoundsomethingworthdoing.Adreamworthchasing.Forthelastfiveyears,theHunthadgivenmeagoalandpurpose.

Aquesttofulfill.Areasontogetupinthemorning.Somethingtolookforwardto.

ThemomentIbegansearchingfortheegg,thefuturenolongerseemedsobleak.

IwashalfwaythroughthefourthepisodeofmyFamilyTiesmini-marathonwhenthelaundryroomdoorcreakedopenandmyauntAlicewalkedin,amalnourishedharpyinahousecoat,clutchingabasketofdirtyclothes.She

lookedmorelucidthanusual,whichwasbadnews.Shewasmucheasiertodealwithwhenshewashigh.

Sheglancedoveratmewiththeusuallookofdisdainandstartedtoloadherclothesintothewasher.Thenherexpressionchangedandshepeekedaroundthedryertogetabetterlookatme.HereyeswentwideClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd19

5/24/112:04PM

20:ErnestCline

whenshespottedmylaptop.Iquicklycloseditandbegantoshoveitintomybackpack,butIknewitwasalreadytoolate.

“Handitover,Wade,”sheordered,reachingforthelaptop.“Icanpawnittohelppayourrent.”

“No!”Ishouted,twistingawayfromher.“Comeon,AuntAlice.Ineeditforschool.”

“Whatyouneedistoshowsomegratitude!”shebarked.“Everyoneelsearoundherehastopayrent.I’mtiredofyouleechingoffofme!”

“Youkeepallofmyfoodvouchers.Thatmorethancoversmyshareoftherent.”

“Thehellitdoes!”Shetriedagaintograbthelaptopoutofmyhands,butIrefusedtoletgoofit.Sosheturnedandstompedbacktoherroom.

Iknewwhatwascomingnext,soIquicklyenteredacommandonmylaptopthatlockeditskeyboardanderasedtheharddrive.

AuntAlicereturnedafewsecondslaterwithherboyfriend,Rick,whowasstillhalf-asleep.Rickwasperpetuallyshirtless,becausehelikedtoshowoffhisimpressivecollectionofprisontattoos.Withoutsayingaword,hewalkedoverandraisedafistatmethreateningly.Iflinchedandhandedoverthelaptop.ThenheandAuntAlicewalkedout,alreadydiscussinghowmuchthecomputermightfetchatapawnshop.

Losingthelaptopwasn’tabigdeal.Ihadtwosparesstowedinmyhideout.Buttheyweren’tnearlyasfast,andIwouldhavetoreloadallofmymediaontothemfrombackupdrives.Atotalpainintheass.Butitwasmyownfault.Iknewtheriskofbringinganythingofvaluebackhere.

Thedarkbluelightofdawnwasstartingtocreepinthroughthelaundryroomwindow.Idecideditmightbeagoodideatoleaveforschoolalittleearlytoday.

Idressedasquicklyandquietlyaspossible,pullingontheworncorduroys,baggysweater,andoversizecoatthatcomprisedmyentirewinterwardrobe.ThenIputonmybackpackandclimbedupontothewashingmachine.Afterpullingonmygloves,Islidopenthefrost-coveredwindow.ThearcticmorningairstungmycheeksasIgazedoutovertheun-evenseaoftrailerrooftops.

Myaunt’strailerwasthetopunitina“stack”twenty-twomobilehomeshigh,makingitalevelortwotallerthanthemajorityofthestacksimmediatelysurroundingit.Thetrailersonthebottomlevelrestedontheground,orontheiroriginalconcretefoundations,buttheunitsstackedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd20

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:21

abovethemweresuspendedonareinforcedmodularscaffold,ahaphazardmetallatticeworkthathadbeenconstructedpiecemealovertheyears.

WelivedinthePortlandAvenueStacks,asprawlinghiveofdiscoloredtinshoeboxesrustingontheshoresofI-40,justwestofOklahomaCity’sdecayingskyscrapercore.Itwasacollectionofoverfivehundredindividualstacks,allconnectedtoeachotherbyamakeshiftnetworkofrecycledpipes,girders,supportbeams,andfootbridges.Thespiresofadozenancientconstructioncranes(usedtodotheactualstacking)werepositionedaroundthestacks’ever-expandingouterperimeter.

Thetoplevelor“roof”ofthestackswasblanketedwithapatchworkarrayofoldsolarpanelsthatprovidedsupplementalpowertotheunitsbelow.Abundleofhosesandcorrugatedtubingsnakedupanddownthesideofeachstack,

supplyingwatertoeachtrailerandcarryingawaysew-age(luxuriesnotavailableinsomeoftheotherstacksscatteredaroundthecity).Verylittlesunlightmadeittothebottomlevel(knownasthe

“floor”).Thedark,narrowstripsofgroundbetweenthestackswerecloggedwiththeskeletonsofabandonedcarsandtrucks,theirgastanksemptiedandtheirexitroutesblockedofflongago.

Oneofourneighbors,Mr.Miller,onceexplainedtomethattrailerparkslikeourshadoriginallyconsistedofafewdozenmobilehomesarrangedinneatrowsontheground.Butaftertheoilcrashandtheonsetoftheenergycrisis,largecitieshadbeenfloodedwithrefugeesfromsurroundingsuburbanandruralareas,resultinginamassiveurbanhousingshortage.Realestatewithinwalkingdistanceofabigcitybecamefartoovaluabletowasteonaflatplaneofmobilehomes,sosomeonehadcookedupthebrilliantideaof,asMr.Millerputit,“stackingthesumbitches,”tomaximizetheuseofgroundspace.Theideacaughtoninabigway,andtrailerparksacrossthecountryhadquicklyevolvedinto“stacks”likethisone—strangehybridsofshantytowns,squattersettlements,andrefugeecamps.Theywerenowscatteredaroundtheoutskirtsofmostmajorcities,eachoneoverflowingwithuprootedredneckslikemyparents,who—

desperateforwork,food,electricity,andreliableOASISaccess—hadfledtheirdyingsmalltownsandhadusedthelastoftheirgasoline(ortheirbeastsofburden)tohaultheirfamilies,RVs,andtrailerhomestothenearestmetropolis.

Everystackinourparkstoodatleastfifteenmobilehomeshigh(withtheoccasionalRV,shippingcontainer,Airstreamtrailer,orVWmicrobusClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd21

5/24/112:04PM

22:ErnestCline

mixedinforvariety).Inrecentyears,manyofthestackshadgrowntoaheightoftwentyunitsormore.Thismadealotofpeoplenervous.Stackcollapsesweren’tthatuncommon,andifthescaffoldsupportsbuckledatthewrongangle,thedominoeffectcouldbringdownfourorfiveoftheneighboringstackstoo.

Ourtrailerwasnearthenorthernedgeofthestacks,whichranuptoacrumblinghighwayoverpass.Frommyvantagepointatthelaundryroomwindow,Icouldseeathinstreamofelectricvehiclescrawlingalongthecrackedasphalt,carryinggoodsandworkersintothecity.AsIstaredoutatthegrimskyline,abrightsliverofthesunpeekedoverthehorizon.

Watchingitrise,Iperformedamentalritual:WheneverIsawthesun,IremindedmyselfthatIwaslookingatastar.Oneofoverahundredbillionstarsinourgalaxy.Agalaxythatwasjustoneofbillionsofothergalaxiesintheobservableuniverse.Thishelpedmekeepthingsinperspective.

I’dstarteddoingitafterwatchingascienceprogramfromtheearly’80scalledCosmos.

Islippedoutthewindowasquietlyaspossibleand,clutchingthebottomofthewindowframe,sliddownthecoldsurfaceofthetrailer’smetalsiding.Thesteelplatformonwhichthetrailerrestedwasonlyslightlywiderandlongerthanthetraileritself,leavingaledgeaboutafootandahalfwideallthewayaround.Icarefullyloweredmyselfuntilmyfeetrestedonthisledge,thenreacheduptoclosethewindowbehindme.IgrabbedholdofaropeI’dstrungthereatwaistleveltoserveasahand-holdandbegantosidestepalongtheledgetothecorneroftheplatform.

FromthereIwasabletodescendtheladderlikeframeofthescaffolding.

Ialmostalwaystookthisroutewhenleavingorreturningtomyaunt’strailer.Aricketymetalstaircasewasboltedtothesideofthestack,butitshookandknockedagainstthescaffolding,soIcouldn’tuseitwithoutannouncingmypresence.Badnews.Inthestacks,itwasbesttoavoidbeingheardorseen,wheneverpossible.Therewereoftendangerousanddesperatepeopleabout—thesortwhowouldrobyou,rapeyou,andthensellyourorgansontheblackmarket.

DescendingthenetworkofmetalgirdershadalwaysremindedmeofoldplatformvideogameslikeDonkeyKongorBurgerTime.I’dseizeduponthisideaafewyearsearlierwhenIcodedmyfirstAtari2600game(agunterriteofpassage,likeaJedibuildinghisfirstlightsaber).ItwasaPitfallrip-offcalledTheStackswhereyouhadtonavigatethroughaverticalmazeoftrailers,collectingjunkcomputers,snaggingfood-voucherClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd22

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:23

power-ups,andavoidingmethaddictsandpedophilesonyourwaytoschool.Mygamewasalotmorefunthantherealthing.

AsIclimbeddown,IpausednexttotheAirstreamtrailerthreeunitsbelowours,wheremyfriendMrs.Gilmorelived.Shewasasweetoldladyinhermid-seventies,andshealwaysseemedtogetupridiculouslyearly.Ipeekedinherwindowandsawhershufflingaroundinherkitchen,makingbreakfast.Shespottedmeafterafewseconds,andhereyeslitup.

“Wade!”shesaid,crackingopenherwindow.“Goodmorning,mydearboy.”

“Goodmorning,Mrs.G,”Isaid.“IhopeIdidn’tstartleyou.”

“Notatall,”shesaid.Shepulledherrobetightagainstthedraftcominginthewindow.“It’sfreezingoutthere!Whydon’tyoucomeinandhavesomebreakfast?I’vegotsomesoybacon.Andthesepowderedeggsaren’ttoobad,ifyouputenoughsaltonthem....”

“Thanks,butIcan’tthismorning,Mrs.G.Ihavetogettoschool.”

“Allright.Raincheck,then.”Sheblewmeakissandstartedtoclosethewindow.“Trynottobreakyourneckclimbingaroundoutthere,OK,Spider-Man?”

“Willdo.Seeyalater,Mrs.G.”Iwavedgood-byetoherandcontinuedmydescent.

Mrs.Gilmorewasatotalsweetheart.SheletmecrashonhercouchwhenIneededto,althoughitwashardformetosleeptherebecauseofallhercats.Mrs.Gwassuper-religiousandspentmostofhertimeintheOASIS,sittinginthecongregationofoneofthosebigonlinemega-churches,singinghymns,listeningtosermons,andtakingvirtualtoursoftheHolyLand.IfixedherancientOASISconsolewheneveritwentonthefritz,andinreturn,sheansweredmyendlessquestionsaboutwhatithadbeenlikeforhertogrowupduringthe1980s.She

knewthecoolestbitsof’80strivia—stuffyoucouldn’tlearnfrombooksormovies.Shewasalwaysprayingformetoo.Tryingherhardesttosavemysoul.IneverhadthehearttotellherthatIthoughtorganizedreligionwasatotalcrock.Itwasapleasantfantasythatgaveherhopeandkepthergoing—whichwasexactlywhattheHuntwasforme.ToquotetheAlmanac:“Peoplewholiveinglasshousesshouldshutthefuckup.”

WhenIreachedthebottomlevel,Ijumpedoffthescaffoldanddroppedthefewremainingfeettotheground.Myrubberbootscrunchedintotheslushandfrozenmud.Itwasstillprettydarkdownhere,soItookoutmyflashlightandheadedeast,weavingmywaythroughthedarkmaze,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd23

5/24/112:04PM

24:ErnestCline

doingmybesttoremainunseenwhilebeingcarefultoavoidtrippingoverashoppingcart,engineblock,oroneoftheotherpiecesofjunklitteringthenarrowalleysbetweenthestacks.Irarelysawanyoneoutatthistimeofthemorning.Thecommutershuttlesranonlyafewtimesaday,sotheresidentsluckyenoughtohaveajobwouldalreadybewaitingatthebusstopbythehighway.Mostofthemworkedasdaylaborersinthegiantfac-toryfarmsthatsurroundedthecity.

Afterwalkingabouthalfamile,Ireachedagiantmoundofoldcarsandtruckspiledhaphazardlyalongthestacks’easternperimeter.Decadesago,thecraneshadclearedtheparkofasmanyabandonedvehiclesaspossible,tomakeroomforevenmorestacks,andthey’ddumpedtheminhugepileslikethisoneallaroundthesettlement’sperimeter.Manyofthemwerenearlyastallasthestacksthemselves.

Iwalkedtotheedgeofthepile,andafteraquickglancearoundtomakesureIwasn’tbeingwatchedorfollowed,Iturnedsidewaystosqueezethroughagapbetweentwocrushedcars.Fromthere,Iducked,clam-bered,andsidesteppedmywayfartherandfartherintotheramshacklemountainoftwistedmetal,untilIreachedasmallopenspaceattherearofaburiedcargovan.Onlytherearthirdofthevanwasvisible.Therestwasconcealedbytheothervehiclesstackedon

andaroundit.Twoover-turnedpickuptruckslayacrossthevan’sroofatdifferentangles,butmostoftheirweightwassupportedbythecarsstackedoneitherside,creatingakindofprotectivearchthathadpreventedthevanfrombeingcrushedbythemountainofvehiclespiledaboveit.

IpulledoutachainIkeptaroundmyneck,onwhichtherehungasinglekey.Inastrokeofluck,thiskeyhadstillbeenhangingfromthevan’signitionwhenI’dfirstdiscoveredit.Manyofthesevehicleshadbeeninworkingconditionwhentheywereabandoned.Theirownershadsimplynolongerbeenabletoaffordfuelforthem,sothey’djustparkedthemandwalkedaway.

Ipocketedmyflashlightandunlockedthevan’srearrightdoor.Itopenedaboutafootandahalf,givingmejustenoughroomtosqueezeinside.Ipulledthedoorclosedbehindmeandlockeditagain.Thevan’sreardoorshadnowindows,soIwashunchedoverintotaldarknessforasecond,untilmyfingersfoundtheoldpowerstripI’dduct-tapedtotheceiling.Iflippediton,andanolddesklampfloodedthetinyspacewithlight.

Thecrumpledgreenroofofacompactcarcoveredthecrushedopen-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd24

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:25

ingwherethewindshieldhadbeen,butthedamagetothevan’sfrontenddidn’textendbeyondthecab.Therestoftheinteriorremainedintact.

Someonehadremovedallofthevan’sseats(probablytouseasfurniture),leavingasmall“room”aboutfourfeetwide,fourfeethigh,andninefeetlong.

Thiswasmyhideout.

I’ddiscovereditfouryearsearlier,whilesearchingfordiscardedcomputerparts.WhenIfirstopenedthedoorandgazedintothevan’sdarkenedinterior,IknewrightawaythatI’dfoundsomethingofimmea-surablevalue:privacy.Thiswasaplacenooneelseknewabout,whereIwouldn’thavetoworryaboutgettinghassledorslappedaroundbymyauntorwhateverlosershewascurrently

dating.Icouldkeepmythingsherewithoutworryingthey’dbestolen.And,mostimportant,itwasaplacewhereIcouldaccesstheOASISinpeace.

Thevanwasmyrefuge.MyBatcave.MyFortressofSolitude.ItwaswhereIattendedschool,didmyhomework,readbooks,watchedmovies,andplayedvideogames.ItwasalsowhereIconductedmyongoingquesttofindHalliday’sEasteregg.

I’dcoveredthewalls,floor,andceilingwithStyrofoameggcartonsandpiecesofcarpetinginanefforttosoundproofthevanasmuchaspossible.

Severalcardboardboxesofbustedlaptopsandcomputerpartssatinthecorner,nexttoarackofoldcarbatteriesandamodifiedexercisebikeI’driggedupasarecharger.Theonlyfurniturewasafoldinglawnchair.

Idroppedmybackpack,shruggedoffmycoat,andhoppedontheexercisebike.ChargingthebatterieswasusuallytheonlyphysicalexerciseIgoteachday.Ipedaleduntilthemetersaidthebatterieshadafullcharge,thensatdowninmychairandswitchedonthesmallelectricheaterIkeptbesideit.Ipulledoffmyglovesandrubbedmyhandsinfrontofthefila-mentsastheybegantoglowbrightorange.Icouldn’tleavetheheateronforverylong,oritwoulddrainthebatteries.

Iopenedtherat-proofmetalboxwhereIkeptmyfoodcacheandtookoutsomebottledwaterandapacketofpowderedmilk.Imixedthesetogetherinabowl,thendumpedinagenerousservingofFruitRockscereal.

OnceI’dwolfeditdown,IretrievedanoldplasticStarTreklunchboxIkepthiddenunderthevan’scrusheddashboard.Insideweremyschool-issuedOASISconsole,hapticgloves,andvisor.Theseitemswere,byfar,themostvaluablethingsIowned.Fartoovaluabletocarryaroundwithme.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd25

5/24/112:04PM

26:ErnestCline

Ipulledonmyelastichapticglovesandflexedmyfingerstomakesurenoneofthejointswassticking.ThenIgrabbedmyOASISconsole,aflatblackrectangleaboutthesizeofapaperbackbook.Ithadawirelessnetworkantennabuiltintoit,butthereceptioninsidethevanwasforshit,sinceitwasburiedunderahugemoundofdensemetal.SoI’driggedupanexternalantennaandmounteditonthehoodofacaratthetopofthejunkpile.TheantennacablesnakedupthroughaholeI’dpunchedinthevan’sceiling.Ipluggeditintoaportonthesideoftheconsole,thenslippedonmyvisor.Itfitsnuglyaroundmyeyeslikeapairofswimmer’sgoggles,blockingoutallexternallight.Smallearbudsextendedfromthevisor’stemplesandautomaticallypluggedthemselvesintomyears.Thevisoralsohousedtwobuilt-instereovoicemicrophonestopickupeverythingIsaid.

Ipoweredontheconsoleandinitiatedthelog-insequence.Isawabriefflashofredasthevisorscannedmyretinas.ThenIclearedmythroatandsaidmylog-inpassphrase,beingcarefultoenunciate:“YouhavebeenrecruitedbytheStarLeaguetodefendtheFrontieragainstXurandtheKo-DanArmada.”

Mypassphrasewasalsoverified,alongwithmyvoicepattern,andthenIwasloggedin.Thefollowingtextappeared,superimposedinthecenterofmyvirtualdisplay:

Identityverificationsuccessful.

WelcometotheOASIS,Parzival!

LoginCompleted:07:53:21OST–2.10.2045

Asthetextfadedaway,itwasreplacedbyashortmessage,justthreewordslong.Thismessagehadbeenembeddedinthelog-insequencebyJamesHallidayhimself,whenhe’dfirstprogrammedtheOASIS,asanhomagetothesimulation’sdirectancestors,thecoin-operatedvideogamesofhisyouth.ThesethreewordswerealwaysthelastthinganOASIS

usersawbeforeleavingtherealworldandenteringthevirtualone:READYPLAYERONE

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd26

5/24/112:04PM

Myavatarmaterializedinfrontofmylockeronthesecondfloorofmyhighschool—theexactspotwhereI’dbeenstandingwhenI’dloggedoutthenightbefore.

Iglancedupanddownthehallway.Myvirtualsurroundingslookedalmost(butnotquite)real.EverythinginsidetheOASISwasbeautifullyrenderedinthreedimensions.Unlessyoupulledfocusandstoppedtoexamineyoursurroundingsmoreclosely,itwaseasytoforgetthateverythingyouwereseeingwascomputer-generated.Andthatwaswithmycrappyschool-issuedOASISconsole.I’dheardthatifyouaccessedthesimulationwithanewstate-of-the-artimmersionrig,itwasalmostimpossibletotelltheOASISfromreality.

Itouchedmylockerdooranditpoppedopenwithasoftmetallicclick.

Theinsidewassparselydecorated.ApictureofPrincessLeiaposingwithablasterpistol.AgroupphotoofthemembersofMontyPythonintheirHolyGrailcostumes.JamesHalliday’sTimemagazinecover.Ireachedupandtappedthestackoftextbooksonthelocker’stopshelfandtheyvanished,thenreappearedinmyavatar’siteminventory.

Asidefrommytextbooks,myavatarhadonlyafewmeagerpossessions:aflashlight,anironshortsword,asmallbronzeshield,andasuitofbandedleatherarmor.Theseitemswereallnonmagicalandoflowquality,buttheywerethebestIcouldafford.ItemsintheOASIShadjustasmuchvalueasthingsintherealworld(sometimesmore),andyoucouldn’tpayforthemwithfoodvouchers.TheOASIScreditwasthecoinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd27

5/24/112:04PM

28:ErnestCline

oftherealm,andinthesedarktimes,itwasalsooneoftheworld’smoststablecurrencies,valuedhigherthanthedollar,pound,euro,oryen.

Asmallmirrorwasmountedinsidemylockerdoor,andIcaughtaglimpseofmyvirtualselfasIclosedit.I’ddesignedmyavatar’sfaceandbodytolook,moreorless,likemyown.Myavatarhadaslightlysmallernosethanme,andhewastaller.Andthinner.Andmoremuscular.Andhedidn’thaveanyteenageacne.Butasidefromtheseminordetails,welookedmoreorlessidentical.Theschool’sstrictlyenforceddresscoderequiredthatallstudentavatarsbehuman,andofthesamegenderandageasthestudent.Nogianttwo-headedhermaphroditedemonunicornavatarswereallowed.Notonschoolgrounds,anyway.

YoucouldgiveyourOASISavataranynameyouliked,aslongasitwasunique.Meaningyouhadtopickanamethathadn’talreadybeentakenbysomeoneelse.Youravatar’snamewasalsoyoure-mailaddressandchatID,soyouwantedittobecoolandeasytoremember.Celebritieshadbeenknowntopayhugesumsofmoneytobuyanavatarnametheywantedfromacyber-squatterwhohadalreadyreservedit.

WhenI’dfirstcreatedmyOASISaccount,I’dnamedmyavatarWade_

the_Great.Afterthat,Ikeptchangingiteveryfewmonths,usuallytosomethingequallyridiculous.Butmyavatarhadnowhadthesamenameforoverfiveyears.OnthedaytheHuntbegan,thedayI’ddecidedtobecomeagunter,I’drenamedmyavatarParzival,aftertheknightofArthurianlegendwhohadfoundtheHolyGrail.Theothermorecommonspellingsofthatknight’sname,PercevalandPercival,hadalreadybeentakenbyotherusers.ButIpreferredthenameParzival,anyway.Ithoughtithadaniceringtoit.

Peoplerarelyusedtheirrealnamesonline.AnonymitywasoneofthemajorperksoftheOASIS.Insidethesimulation,nooneknewwhoyoureallywere,unlessyouwantedthemto.MuchoftheOASIS’spopularityandculturewerebuiltaroundthisfact.Yourrealname,fingerprints,andretinalpatternswerestoredinyourOASISaccount,butGregariousSimulationSystemskeptthatinformationencryptedandconfidential.

EvenGSS’sownemployeescouldn’tlookupanavatar’strueidentity.BackwhenHallidaywasstillrunningthecompany,GSShadwontherighttokeepeveryOASISuser’sidentityprivateinalandmarkSupremeCourtruling.

WhenI’dfirstenrolledintheOASISpublicschoolsystem,Iwasre-

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd28

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:29

quiredtogivethemmyrealname,avatarname,mailingaddress,andSocialSecuritynumber.Thatinformationwasstoredinmystudentprofile,butonlymyprincipalhadaccesstothat.NoneofmyteachersorfellowstudentsknewwhoIreallywas,andviceversa.

Studentsweren’tallowedtousetheiravatarnameswhiletheywereatschool.Thiswastopreventteachersfromhavingtosayridiculousthingslike“Pimp_Grease,pleasepayattention!”or“BigWang69,wouldyoustandupandgiveusyourbookreport?”Instead,studentswererequiredtousetheirrealfirstnames,followedbyanumber,todifferentiatethemfromotherstudentswiththesamename.WhenIenrolled,therewerealreadytwootherstudentsatmyschoolwiththefirstnameWade,soI’dbeenassignedthestudentIDofWade3.Thatnamefloatedabovemyavatar’sheadwheneverIwasonschoolgrounds.

Theschoolbellrangandawarningflashedinthecornerofmydisplay,informingmethatIhadfortyminutesuntilthestartoffirstperiod.Ibegantowalkmyavatardownthehall,usingaseriesofsubtlehandmotionstocontrolitsmovementsandactions.Icouldalsousevoicecommandstomovearound,ifmyhandswereotherwiseoccupied.

IstrolledinthedirectionofmyWorldHistoryclassroom,smilingandwavingtothefamiliarfacesIpassed.IwasgoingtomissthisplacewhenIgraduatedinafewmonths.Iwasn’tlookingforwardtoleavingschool.

Ididn’thavethemoneytoattendcollege,notevenoneintheOASIS,andmygradesweren’tgoodenoughforascholarship.Myonlyplanaftergraduationwastobecomeafull-timegunter.Ididn’thavemuchchoice.

Winningthecontestwasmyonechanceofescapingthestacks.UnlessIwantedtosignafive-yearindenturementcontractwithsomecorporation,andthatwasaboutasappealingtomeasrollingaroundinbrokenglassinmybirthdaysuit.

AsIcontinueddownthehallway,otherstudentsbegantomaterializeinfrontoftheirlockers,ghostlyapparitionsthatrapidlysolidified.Thesoundofchatteringteenagersbegantoechoupanddownthecorridor.

Beforelong,Iheardaninsulthurledinmydirection.

“Hey,hey!Ifitisn’tWadeThree!”Iheardavoiceshout.IturnedandsawTodd13,anobnoxiousavatarIrecognizedfrommyAlgebraIIclass.

Hewasstandingwithseveralofhisfriends.“Greatoutfit,slick,”hesaid.

“Wheredidyousnagthesweetthreads?”

MyavatarwaswearingablackT-shirtandbluejeans,oneofthefreeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd29

5/24/112:04PM

30:ErnestCline

defaultskinsyoucouldselectwhenyoucreatedyouraccount.LikehisCro-Magnonfriends,Todd13woreanexpensivedesignerskin,probablypurchasedinsomeoffworldmall.

“Yourmomboughtthemforme,”Iretortedwithoutbreakingmystride.

“TellherIsaidthanks,thenexttimeyoustopathometobreast-feedandpickupyourallowance.”Childish,Iknow.Butvirtualornot,thiswasstillhighschool—themorechildishaninsult,themoreeffectiveitwas.

Myjabelicitedlaughterfromafewofhisfriendsandtheotherstudentsstandingnearby.Todd13scowledandhisfaceactuallyturnedred—asignthathehadn’tbotheredtoturnoffhisaccount’sreal-timeemotionfeature,whichmadeyouravatarmirroryourfacialexpressionsandbodylanguage.Hewasabouttoreply,butImutedhimfirst,soIdidn’thearwhathesaid.Ijustsmiledandcontinuedonmyway.

Theabilitytomutemypeerswasoneofmyfavoritethingsaboutattending

schoolonline,andItookadvantageofitalmostdaily.Thebestthingaboutitwasthattheycouldseethatyou’dmutedthem,andtheycouldn’tdoadamnthingaboutit.Therewasneveranyfightingonschoolgrounds.Thesimulationsimplydidn’tallowit.TheentireplanetofLuduswasano-PvPzone,meaningthatnoplayer-versus-playercombatwaspermitted.Atthisschool,theonlyrealweaponswerewords,soI’dbecomeskilledatwieldingthem.

I’dattendedschoolintherealworldupuntilthesixthgrade.Ithadn’tbeenaverypleasantexperience.Iwasapainfullyshy,awkwardkid,withlowself-esteemandalmostnosocialskills—asideeffectofspendingmostofmychildhoodinsidetheOASIS.Online,Ididn’thaveaproblemtalkingtopeopleormakingfriends.Butintherealworld,interactingwithotherpeople—especiallykidsmyownage—mademeanervouswreck.Ineverknewhowtoactorwhattosay,andwhenIdidworkupthecouragetospeak,Ialwaysseemedtosaythewrongthing.

Myappearancewaspartoftheproblem.Iwasoverweight,andhadbeenforaslongasIcouldremember.Mybankruptdietofgovernment-subsidizedsugar-and-starch-ladenfoodwasacontributingfactor,butIwasalsoanOASISaddict,sotheonlyexerciseIusuallygotbackthenwasrunningawayfrombulliesbeforeandafterschool.Tomakemattersworse,mylimitedwardrobeconsistedentirelyofill-fittingclothesfromClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd30

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:31

thriftstoresanddonationbins—thesocialequivalentofhavingabull’s-eyepaintedonmyforehead.

Evenso,Itriedmybesttofitin.Yearafteryear,myeyeswouldscanthelunchroomlikeaT-1000,searchingforacliquethatmightacceptme.Buteventheotheroutcastswantednothingtodowithme.Iwastooweird,evenfortheweirdos.Andgirls?Talkingtogirlswasoutofthequestion.

Tome,theywerelikesomeexoticalienspecies,bothbeautifulandterrifying.

WheneverIgotnearoneofthem,Iinvariablybrokeoutinacoldsweatandlosttheabilitytospeakincompletesentences.

Forme,schoolhadbeenaDarwinianexercise.Adailygauntletofridicule,abuse,andisolation.BythetimeIenteredsixthgrade,IwasbeginningtowonderifI’dbeabletomaintainmysanityuntilgraduation,stillsixlongyearsaway.

Then,onegloriousday,ourprincipalannouncedthatanystudentwithapassinggrade-pointaveragecouldapplyforatransfertothenewOASIS

publicschoolsystem.Therealpublicschoolsystem,theonerunbythegovernment,hadbeenanunderfunded,overcrowdedtrainwreckfordecades.Andnowtheconditionsatmanyschoolshadgottensoterriblethateverykidwithhalfabrainwasbeingencouragedtostayathomeandattendschoolonline.Inearlybrokemynecksprintingtotheschoolofficetosubmitmyapplication.Itwasaccepted,andItransferredtoOASISPublicSchool#1873thefollowingsemester.

Priortomytransfer,myOASISavatarhadneverleftIncipio,theplanetatthecenterofSectorOnewherenewavatarswerespawnedatthetimeoftheircreation.Therewasn’tmuchtodoonIncipioexceptchatwithothernoobsorshopinoneofthegiantvirtualmallsthatcoveredtheplanet.Ifyouwantedtogosomewheremoreinteresting,youhadtopayateleportationfaretogetthere,andthatcostmoney,somethingIdidn’thave.SomyavatarwasstrandedonIncipio.Thatis,untilmynewschoole-mailedmeateleportationvouchertocoverthecostofmyavatar’stransporttoLudus,theplanetwherealloftheOASISpublicschoolswerelocated.

TherewerehundredsofschoolcampuseshereonLudus,spreadoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.Theschoolswereallidentical,becausethesameconstructioncodewascopiedandpastedintoadifferentlocationwheneveranewschoolwasneeded.Andsincethebuildingswerejustpiecesofsoftware,theirdesignwasn’tlimitedbymonetaryconstraints,orevenbythelawsofphysics.Soeveryschoolwasagrandpalaceoflearning,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd31

5/24/112:04PM

32:ErnestCline

withpolishedmarblehallways,cathedral-likeclassrooms,zero-ggymnasiums,andvirtuallibrariescontainingevery(schoolboard–approved)bookeverwritten.

OnmyfirstdayatOPS#1873,IthoughtI’ddiedandgonetoheaven.

Now,insteadofrunningagauntletofbulliesanddrugaddictsonmywalktoschooleachmorning,Iwentstraighttomyhideoutandstayedthereallday.Bestofall,intheOASIS,noonecouldtellthatIwasfat,thatIhadacne,orthatIworethesameshabbyclotheseveryweek.Bulliescouldn’tpeltmewithspitballs,givemeatomicwedgies,orpummelmebythebikerackafterschool.Noonecouldeventouchme.Inhere,Iwassafe.

WhenIarrivedinmyWorldHistoryclassroom,severalstudentswerealreadyseatedattheirdesks.Theiravatarsallsatmotionless,withtheireyesclosed.Thiswasasignalthattheywere“engaged,”meaningtheywerecurrentlyonphonecalls,browsingtheWeb,orloggedintochatrooms.ItwaspoorOASISetiquettetotrytotalktoanengagedavatar.

Theyusuallyjustignoredyou,andyou’dgetanautomatedmessagetellingyoutopissoff.

ItookaseatatmydeskandtappedtheEngageiconattheedgeofmydisplay.Myownavatar’seyesslidshut,butIcouldstillseemysurroundings.Itappedanothericon,andalargetwo-dimensionalWebbrowserwindowappeared,suspendedinspacedirectlyinfrontofme.Windowslikethisonewerevisibletoonlymyavatar,sonoonecouldreadovermyshoulder(unlessIselectedtheoptiontoallowit).

MyhomepagewassettotheHatchery,oneofthemorepopularguntermessageforums.TheHatchery’ssiteinterfacewasdesignedtolookandoperatelikeanoldpre-Internetdial-upbulletinboardsystem,completewiththescreechofa300-baudmodemduringthelog-insequence.Verycool.Ispentafewminutesscanningthemostrecentmessagethreads,takinginthelatestgunternewsandrumors.Irarelypostedanythingtotheboards,eventhoughImadesuretocheckthemeveryday.Ididn’tseemuchofinterestthismorning.Theusualgunterclan

flamewars.Ongoingargumentsaboutthe“correct”interpretationofsomecrypticpassageinAnorak’sAlmanac.High-levelavatarsbraggingaboutsomenewmagicitemorartifactthey’dobtained.Thiscraphadbeengoingonforyearsnow.Intheabsenceofanyrealprogress,guntersubculturehadbecomemiredinbravado,bullshit,andpointlessinfighting.Itwassad,really.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd32

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:33

MyfavoritemessagethreadswerethosedevotedtobashingtheSixers.

“Sixers”wasthederogatorynicknameguntershadgiventoemployeesofInnovativeOnlineIndustries.IOI(pronouncedeye-oh-eye)wasaglobalcommunicationsconglomerateandtheworld’slargestInternetserviceprovider.AlargeportionofIOI’sbusinesscenteredaroundprovidingaccesstotheOASISandonsellinggoodsandservicesinsideit.Forthisreason,IOIhadattemptedseveralhostiletakeoversofGregariousSimulationSystems,allofwhichhadfailed.NowtheyweretryingtoseizecontrolofGSSbyexploitingaloopholeinHalliday’swill.

IOIhadcreatedanewdepartmentwithinthecompanythattheycalledtheir“OologyDivision.”(“Oology”wasoriginallydefinedas“thescienceofstudyingbirds’eggs,”butinrecentyearsithadtakenonasecondmeaning:the“science”ofsearchingforHalliday’sEasteregg.)IOI’sOologyDivisionhadbutonepurpose:towinHalliday’scontestandseizecontrolofhisfortune,hiscompany,andtheOASISitself.

Likemostgunters,IwashorrifiedatthethoughtofIOItakingcontroloftheOASIS.Thecompany’sPRmachinehadmadeitsintentionscrystalclear.IOIbelievedthatHallidayneverproperlymonetizedhiscreation,andtheywantedtoremedythat.Theywouldstartchargingamonthlyfeeforaccesstothesimulation.Theywouldplasteradvertisementsoneveryvisiblesurface.Useranonymityandfreespeechwouldbecomethingsofthepast.ThemomentIOItookitover,theOASISwouldceasetobetheopen-sourcevirtualutopiaI’dgrownupin.Itwouldbecomeacorporate-rundystopia,anoverpricedtheme

parkforwealthyelitists.

IOIrequireditsegghunters,whichitreferredtoas“oologists,”tousetheiremployeenumbersastheirOASISavatarnames.Thesenumberswereallsixdigitsinlength,andtheyalsobeganwiththenumeral“6,”soeveryonebegancallingthemtheSixers.Thesedays,mostguntersreferredtothemas“theSux0rz.”(Becausetheysucked.)TobecomeaSixer,youhadtosignacontractstipulating,amongotherthings,thatifyoufoundHalliday’segg,theprizewouldbecomethesolepropertyofyouremployer.Inreturn,IOIgaveyouabimonthlypaycheck,food,lodging,health-carebenefits,andaretirementplan.Thecompanyalsoprovidedyouravatarwithhigh-endarmor,vehicles,andweapons,andcoveredallofyourteleportationfares.JoiningtheSixerswasalotlikejoiningthemilitary.

Sixersweren’thardtospot,becausetheyalllookedidentical.Theywereallrequiredtousethesamehulkingmaleavatar(regardlessoftheopera-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd33

5/24/112:04PM

34:ErnestCline

tor’struegender),withclose-croppeddarkhairandfacialfeaturesleftatthesystemdefaultsettings.Andtheyallworethesamenavyblueuniform.Theonlywaytotellthesecorporatedronesapartwasbycheckingthesix-digitemployeenumberstampedontheirrightbreast,justbeneaththeIOIcorporatelogo.

Likemostgunters,IloathedtheSixersandwasdisgustedbytheirveryexistence.Byhiringanarmyofcontractegghunters,IOIwaspervertingtheentirespiritofthecontest.Ofcourse,itcouldbearguedthatallthegunterswhohadjoinedclansweredoingthesamething.Therewerenowhundredsofgunterclans,somewiththousandsofmembers,allworkingtogethertofindtheegg.Eachclanwasboundbyanironcladlegalagreementstatingthatifoneclanmemberwonthecontest,allmemberswouldsharetheprize.Soloslikemedidn’tcaremuchfortheclans,either,butwestillrespectedthemasfellowgunters—unliketheSixers,whosegoalwastohandtheOASISovertoanevilmultinationalconglomerateintentonruiningit.

MygenerationhadneverknownaworldwithouttheOASIS.Tous,itwasmuchmorethanagameoranentertainmentplatform.Ithadbeenanintegralpartofourlivesforasfarbackaswecouldremember.We’dbeenbornintoanuglyworld,andtheOASISwasouronehappyrefuge.ThethoughtofthesimulationbeingprivatizedandhomogenizedbyIOIhorrifiedusinawaythatthosebornbeforeitsintroductionfounddifficulttounderstand.Forus,itwaslikesomeonethreateningtotakeawaythesun,orchargeafeetolookupatthesky.

TheSixersgaveguntersacommonenemy,andSixerbashingwasafavoritepastimeinourforumsandchatrooms.Alotofhigh-levelguntershadastrictpolicyofkilling(ortryingtokill)everySixerwhocrossedtheirpath.SeveralwebsitesweredevotedtotrackingSixeractivitiesandmovements,andsomeguntersspentmoretimehuntingtheSixersthantheydidsearchingfortheegg.Thebiggerclansactuallyheldayearlycompetitioncalled“Eighty-SixtheSux0rz,”withaprizefortheclanwhomanagedtokillthelargestnumberofthem.

Aftercheckingafewothergunterforums,Itappedabookmarkiconforoneofmyfavoritewebsites,Arty’sMissives,theblogofafemalegunternamedArt3mis(pronounced“Artemis”).I’ddiscovereditaboutthreeyearsagoandhadbeenaloyalreadereversince.ShepostedthesegreatramblingessaysabouthersearchforHalliday’segg,whichshecalledClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd34

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:35

a“maddeningMacGuffinhunt.”Shewrotewithanendearing,intelligentvoice,andherentrieswerefilledwithself-deprecatinghumorandwitty,sardonicasides.Inadditiontopostingher(oftenhysterical)interpretationsofpassagesintheAlmanac,shealsolinkedtothebooks,movies,TVshows,andmusicshewascurrentlystudyingaspartofherHallidayresearch.Iassumedthatallofthesepostswerefilledwithmisdirectionandmisinformation,buttheywerestillhighlyentertaining.

ItprobablygoeswithoutsayingthatIhadamassivecyber-crushonArt3mis.

Sheoccasionallypostedscreenshotsofherraven-hairedavatar,andIsometimes(always)savedthemtoafolderonmyharddrive.Heravatarhadaprettyface,butitwasn’tunnaturallyperfect.IntheOASIS,yougotusedtoseeingfreakishlybeautifulfacesoneveryone.ButArt3mis’sfeaturesdidn’tlookasthoughthey’dbeenselectedfromabeautydrop-downmenuonsomeavatarcreationtemplate.Herfacehadthedistinctivelookofarealperson’s,asifhertruefeatureshadbeenscannedinandmappedontoheravatar.Bighazeleyes,roundedcheekbones,apointychin,andaperpetualsmirk.Ifoundherunbearablyattractive.

Art3mis’sbodywasalsosomewhatunusual.IntheOASIS,youusuallysawoneoftwobodyshapesonfemaleavatars:theabsurdlythinyetwildlypopularsupermodelframe,orthetop-heavy,wasp-waistedpornstarletphysique(whichlookedevenlessnaturalintheOASISthanitdidintherealworld).ButArt3mis’sframewasshortandRubenesque.Allcurves.

IknewthecrushIhadonArt3miswasbothsillyandill-advised.WhatdidIreallyknowabouther?She’dneverrevealedhertrueidentity,ofcourse.Orherageorlocationintherealworld.Therewasnotellingwhatshereallylookedlike.Shecouldbefifteenorfifty.Alotofguntersevenquestionedwhethershewasreallyfemale,butIwasn’toneofthem.ProbablybecauseIcouldn’tbeartheideathatthegirlwithwhomIwasvirtuallysmittenmightactuallybesomemiddle-ageddudenamedChuck,withbackhairandmale-patternbaldness.

IntheyearssinceI’dfirststartedreadingArty’sMissives,ithadbecomeoneofthemostpopularblogsontheInternet,nowloggingseveralmillionhitsaday.AndArt3miswasnowsomethingofacelebrity,atleastinguntercircles.Butfamehadn’tgonetoherhead.Herwritingwasstillasfunnyandself-deprecatingasever.Hernewestblogpostwastitled

“TheJohnHughesBlues,”anditwasanin-depthtreatiseonhersixfavor-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd35

5/24/112:04PM

36:ErnestCline

iteJohnHughesteenmovies,whichshedividedintotwoseparatetrilogies:The

“DorkyGirlFantasies”trilogy(SixteenCandles,PrettyinPink,andSomeKindofWonderful)andthe“DorkyBoyFantasies”trilogy(TheBreakfastClub,WeirdScience,andFerrisBueller’sDayOff).

JustasI’dfinishedreadingit,aninstantmessagewindowpoppeduponmydisplay.Itwasmybestfriend,Aech.(OK,ifyouwanttosplithairs,hewasmyonlyfriend,notcountingMrs.Gilmore.)Aech:

Topo’themorning,amigo.

Parzival:Hola,compadre.

Whatareyouupto?

Parzival:Justsurfingtheturf.You?

GottheBasementonline.Comeandhangoutbeforeschool,fool.

Parzival:Sweet!I’lbethereinasec.

IclosedtheIMwindowandcheckedthetime.Istillhadabouthalfanhouruntilclassstarted.Igrinnedandtappedasmalldooriconattheedgeofmydisplay,thenselectedAech’schatroomfrommylistoffavorites.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd36

5/24/112:04PM

ThesystemverifiedthatIwasonthechatroom’saccesslistandallowedmetoenter.Myviewoftheclassroomshrankfromthelimitsofmyperipheralvisiontoasmallthumbnailwindowinthelowerrightofmydisplay,allowingmetomonitorwhatwasinfrontofmyavatar.

TherestofmyfieldofvisionwasnowfilledwiththeinteriorofAech’schatroom.Myavatarappearedjustinsidethe“entrance,”adooratthetopofacarpetedstaircase.Thedoordidn’tleadanywhere.Itdidn’tevenopen.ThiswasbecausetheBasementanditscontentsdidn’texistasapartoftheOASIS.Chatroomswerestand-alonesimulations—temporaryvirtualspacesthatavatarscouldaccessfromanywhereinOASIS.Myavatarwasn’tactually“in”thechatroom.Itonlyappearedthatway.Wade3/

ParzivalwasstillsittinginmyWorldHistoryclassroomwithhiseyesclosed.Loggingintoachatroomwasalittlelikebeingintwoplacesatonce.

AechhadnamedhischatroomtheBasement.He’dprogrammedittolooklikealargesuburbanrecroom,circathelate1980s.Oldmovieandcomicbookposterscoveredthewood-paneledwalls.AvintageRCAtelevisionstoodinthecenteroftheroom,hookeduptoaBetamaxVCR,aLaserDiscplayer,andseveralvintagevideogameconsoles.Bookshelveslinedthefarwall,filledwithrole-playinggamesupplementsandbackissuesofDragonmagazine.

Hostingachatroomthislargewasn’tcheap,butAechcouldaffordit.

HemadequiteabitofdoughcompetingintelevisedPvParenagamesClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd37

5/24/112:04PM

38:ErnestCline

afterschoolandontheweekends.Aechwasoneofthehighest-rankedcombatantsintheOASIS,inboththeDeathmatchandCapturetheFlagleagues.HewasevenmorefamousthanArt3mis.

Overthepastfewyears,theBasementhadbecomeahighlyexclusivehangoutforelitegunters.Aechgrantedaccessonlytopeoplehedeemedworthy,sobeinginvitedtohangoutintheBasementwasabighonor,especiallyforathird-levelnobodylikeme.

AsIdescendedthestaircase,Isawafewdozenotherguntersmillingaround,withavatarsthatvariedwildlyinappearance.Therewerehumans,cyborgs,

demons,darkelves,Vulcans,andvampires.Mostofthemweregatheredaroundtherowofoldarcadegamesagainstthewall.Afewothersstoodbytheancientstereo(currentlyblasting“TheWildBoys”

byDuranDuran),browsingthroughAech’sgiantrackofvintagecassettetapes.

Aechhimselfwassprawledononeofthechatroom’sthreecouches,whichwerearrayedinaU-shapeinfrontoftheTV.Aech’savatarwasatall,broad-shoulderedCaucasianmalewithdarkhairandbrowneyes.I’daskedhimonceifhelookedanythinglikehisavatarinreallife,andhe’djokinglyreplied,“Yes.Butinreallife,I’mevenmorehandsome.”

AsIwalkedover,heglancedupfromtheIntellivisiongamehewasplaying.HisdistinctiveCheshiregrinstretchedfromeartoear.“Z!”heshouted.“Whatisup,amigo?”HestretchedouthisrighthandandgavemefiveasIdroppedontothecouchoppositehim.Aechhadstartedcallingme“Z”shortlyafterImethim.Helikedtogivepeoplesingle-letternicknames.Aechpronouncedhisownavatar’snamejustliketheletter

“H.”

“Whatup,Humperdinck?”Isaid.Thiswasagameweplayed.IalwayscalledhimbysomerandomHname,likeHarry,Hubert,Henry,orHogan.Iwasmakingguessesathisrealfirstname,which,he’donceconfidedtome,beganwiththeletter“H.”

I’dknownAechforalittleoverthreeyears.HewasalsoastudentonLudus,asenioratOPS#1172,whichwasontheoppositesideoftheplanetfrommyschool.We’dmetoneweekendinapublicgunterchatroomandhititoffimmediately,becausewesharedallofthesameinterests.Whichistosayoneinterest:atotal,all-consumingobsessionwithHallidayandhisEasteregg.Afewminutesintoourfirstconversation,IknewAechwastherealdeal,anelitegunterwithsomeseriousmentalkungfu.HehadClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd38

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:39

his’80striviadowncold,andnotjustthecanonstuff,either.HewasatrueHallidayscholar.Andhe’dapparentlyseenthesamequalitiesinme,becausehe’dgivenmehiscontactcardandinvitedmetohangoutintheBasementwheneverIliked.He’dbeenmyclosestfriendeversince.

Overtheyears,afriendlyrivalryhadgraduallydevelopedbetweenus.

Wedidalotoftrash-talkingaboutwhichoneofuswouldgethisnameupontheScoreboardfirst.Wewereconstantlytryingtoout-geekeachotherwithourknowledgeofobscureguntertrivia.Sometimesweevenconductedourresearchtogether.Thisusuallyconsistedofwatchingcheesy’80smoviesandTVshowshereinhischatroom.Wealsoplayedalotofvideogames,ofcourse.AechandIhadwastedcountlesshoursontwo-playerclassicslikeContra,GoldenAxe,HeavyBarrel,SmashTV,andIkariWarriors.Asidefromyourstruly,Aechwasthebestall-aroundgamerI’deverencountered.Wewereevenlymatchedatmostgames,buthecouldtrouncemeatcertaintitles,especiallyanythinginthefirst-personshootergenre.Thatwashisareaofexpertise,afterall.

Ididn’tknowanythingaboutwhoAechwasintherealworld,butIgotthesensehishomelifewasn’tthatgreat.Likeme,heseemedtospendeverywakingmomentloggedintotheOASIS.Andeventhoughwe’dneveractuallymetinperson,he’dtoldmemorethanoncethatIwashisbestfriend,soIassumedhewasjustasisolatedandlonelyasIwas.

“Sowhatdidyoudoafteryoubailedlastnight?”heasked,tossingmetheotherIntellivisioncontroller.We’dhungouthereinhischatroomforafewhoursthepreviousevening,watchingoldJapanesemonstermovies.

“Nada,”Isaid.“Wenthomeandbrusheduponafewclassiccoin-ops.”

“Unnecessary.”

“Yeah.ButIwasinthemood.”Ididn’taskhimwhathe’ddonethenightbefore,andhedidn’tvolunteeranydetails.Iknewhe’dprobablygonetoGygax,orsomewhereequallyawesome,tospeedrunthroughafewquestsandrackupsomeXPs.Hejustdidn’twanttorubitin.Aechcouldaffordtospendafairamountoftimeoff-world,followingupleadsandsearchingfortheCopperKey.Butheneverlordedthisoverme,orridiculedmefornothavingenoughdoughtoteleportanywhere.Andheneverinsultedmebyofferingtoloanmeafewcredits.Itwasanunspokenruleamonggunters:Ifyouwereasolo,youdidn’t

wantorneedhelp,fromanyone.Gunterswhowantedhelpjoinedaclan,andAechandIbothagreedthatclanswereforsuck-assesandposeurs.We’dbothvowedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd39

5/24/112:04PM

40:ErnestCline

toremainsolosforlife.Westilloccasionallyhaddiscussionsabouttheegg,buttheseconversationswerealwaysguarded,andwewerecarefultoavoidtalkingaboutspecifics.

AfterIbeatAechatthreeroundsofTron:DeadlyDiscs,hethrewdownhisIntellivisioncontrollerindisgustandgrabbedamagazineoffthefloor.

ItwasanoldissueofStarlog.IrecognizedRutgerHaueronthecover,inaLadyhawkepromotionalphoto.

“Starlog,eh?”Isaid,noddingmyapproval.

“Yep.DownloadedeverysingleissuefromtheHatchery’sarchive.Stillworkingmywaythrough’em.IwasjustreadingthisgreatpieceonEwoks:TheBattleforEndor.”

“MadeforTV.Releasedin1985,”Irecited.StarWarstriviawasoneofmyspecialties.“Totalgarbage.AreallowpointinthehistoryoftheWars.”

“Saysyou,assface.Ithassomegreatmoments.”

“No,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.“Itdoesn’t.It’sevenworsethanthatfirstEwokflick,CaravanofCourage.TheyshouldacalleditCaravanofSuck.”

Aechrolledhiseyesandwentbacktoreading.Hewasn’tgoingtotakethebait.Ieyedthemagazine’scover.“Hey,canIhavealookatthatwhenyou’redone?”

Hegrinned.“Why?SoyoucanreadthearticleonLadyhawke?”

“Maybe.”

“Man,youjustlovethatcrapburger,don’tyou?”

“Blowme,Aech.”

“Howmanytimeshaveyouseenthatsapfest?Iknowyou’vemademesitthroughitatleasttwice.”Hewasbaitingmenow.HeknewLadyhawkewasoneofmyguiltypleasures,andthatI’dseenitovertwodozentimes.

“Iwasdoingyouafavorbymakingyouwatchit,noob,”Isaid.IshovedanewcartridgeintotheIntellivisionconsoleandstartedupasingle-playergameofAstrosmash.“You’llthankmeoneday.Waitandsee.Ladyhawkeiscanon.”

“Canon”wasthetermweusedtoclassifyanymovie,book,game,song,orTVshowofwhichHallidaywasknowntohavebeenafan.

“Surely,youmustbejoking,”Aechsaid.

“No,Iamnotjoking.Anddon’tcallmeShirley.”

Heloweredthemagazineandleanedforward.“ThereisnowayHallidaywasafanofLadyhawke.Iguaranteeit.”

“Where’syourproof,dipshit?”Iasked.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd40

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:41

“Themanhadtaste.That’salltheproofIneed.”

“ThenpleaseexplaintomewhyheownedLadyhawkeonbothVHS

andLaserDisc?”AlistofallthefilmsinHalliday’scollectionatthetimeofhisdeathwasincludedintheappendicesofAnorak’sAlmanac.Webothhadthelistmemorized.

“Theguywasabillionaire!Heownedmillionsofmovies,mostofwhichhe

probablyneverevenwatched!HehadDVDsofHowardtheDuckandKrull,too.Thatdoesn’tmeanhelikedthem,asshat.Anditsureashelldoesn’tmakethemcanon.”

“It’snotreallyupfordebate,Homer,”Isaid.“Ladyhawkeisaneightiesclassic.”

“It’sfuckinglame,iswhatitis!Theswordslookliketheyweremadeoutoftinfoil.Andthatsoundtrackisepicallylame.Fullofsynthesizersandshit.BythemotherfuckingAlanParsonsProject!Lame-o-rama!Beyondlame.HighlanderIIlame.”

“Hey!”IfeignedhurlingmyIntellivisioncontrollerathim.“Nowyou’rejustbeinginsulting!Ladyhawke’scastalonemakesthefilmcanon!

RoyBatty!FerrisBueller!AndthedudewhoplayedProfessorFalkeninWarGames!”Isearchedmymemoryfortheactor’sname.“JohnWood!

ReunitedwithMatthewBroderick!”

“Areallowpointinbothoftheircareers,”hesaid,laughing.Helovedarguingaboutoldmovies,evenmorethanIdid.Theotherguntersinthechatroomwerenowstartingtoformasmallcrowdaroundustolistenin.

Ourargumentswereoftenhighinentertainmentvalue.

“Youmustbestoned!”Ishouted.“LadyhawkewasdirectedbyRichardfuckingDonner!TheGoonies?Superman:TheMovie?You’resayingthatguysucks?”

“Idon’tcareifSpielbergdirectedit.It’sachickflickdisguisedasasword-and-sorcerypicture.Theonlygenrefilmwithlessballsisprobably...freakin’Legend.AnyonewhoactuallyenjoysLadyhawkeisabonafideUSDA-choicepussy!”

Laughterfromthepeanutgallery.Iwasactuallygettingalittlepissedoffnow.IwasabigfanofLegendtoo,andAechknewit.

“Oh,soI’mapussy?You’retheonewiththeEwokfetish!”IsnatchedtheStarlogoutofhishandsandthrewitagainstaRevengeoftheJediposteronthewall.“IsupposeyouthinkyourextensiveknowledgeofEwokcultureisgonnahelpyoufindtheegg?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd41

5/24/112:04PM

42:ErnestCline

“Don’tstartontheEndoriansagain,man,”hesaid,holdingupanindexfinger.“I’vewarnedyou.Iwillbanyourass.Iswear.”Iknewthiswasahollowthreat,soIwasabouttopushtheEwokthingevenfurther,maybegivehimsomecrapforreferringtothemas“Endorians.”Butjustthen,anewarrivalmaterializedonthestaircase.AtotallamerbythenameofI-r0k.Iletoutagroan.I-r0kandAechattendedthesameschoolandhadafewclassestogether,butIstillcouldn’tfigureoutwhyAechhadgrantedhimaccesstotheBasement.I-r0kfanciedhimselfanelitegunter,buthewasnothingbutanobnoxiousposeur.Sure,hedidalotofteleportingaroundtheOASIS,completingquestsandlevelinguphisavatar,buthedidn’tactuallyknowanything.Andhewasalwaysbrandishinganoversizeplasmariflethesizeofasnowmobile.Eveninchatrooms,whereitwastotallypointless.Theguyhadnosenseofdecorum.

“AreyoucocksarguingaboutStarWarsagain?”hesaid,descendingthestepsandwalkingovertojointhecrowdaroundus.“Thatshitissoplayedout,yo.”

IturnedtoAech.“Ifyouwanttobansomeone,whydon’tyoustartwiththisclown?”IhitResetontheIntellivisionandstartedanothergame.

“Shutyourhole,Penis-ville!”I-r0kreplied,usinghisfavoritemispro-nunciationofmyavatar’sname.“Hedoesn’tbanme’causeheknowsI’melite!Ain’tthatright,Aech?”

“No,”Aechsaid,rollinghiseyes.“Thatain’tright.You’reaboutaseliteasmygreat-grandmother.Andshe’sdead.”

“Screwyou,Aech!Andyourdeadgrandma!”

“Gee,I-r0k,”Imuttered.“Youalwaysmanagetoelevatetheintelligenceleveloftheconversation.Thewholeroomjustlightsupthemomentyouarrive.”

“Sosorrytoupsetyou,CaptainNo-Credits,”I-r0ksaid.“Hey,shouldn’tyoube

onIncipiopanhandlingforchangerightnow?”HereachedforthesecondIntellivisioncontroller,butIsnatcheditupandtossedittoAech.

Hescowledatme.“Prick.”

“Poseur.”

“Poseur?Penis-villeiscallingmeaposeur?”Heturnedtoaddressthesmallcrowd.“ThischumpissobrokethathehastobumridestoGreyhawk,justsohecankillkoboldsforcopperpieces!Andhe’scallingmeaposeur!”

Thiselicitedafewsnickersfromthecrowd,andIfeltmyfaceturnredClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd42

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:43

undermyvisor.Once,aboutayearago,I’dmadethemistakeofhitchingarideoff-worldwithI-r0ktotrytogainafewexperiencepoints.Afterdroppingmeinalow-levelquestareaonGreyhawk,thejerkhadfollowedme.I’dspentthenextfewhoursslayingasmallbandofkobolds,waitingforthemtorespawn,andthenslayingthemagain,overandover.Myavatarwasstillonlyfirstlevelatthetime,anditwasoneoftheonlysafewaysformetolevelup.I-r0khadtakenseveralscreenshotsofmyavatarthatnightandlabeledthem“Penis-villetheMightyKoboldSlayer.”Thenhe’dpostedthemtotheHatchery.Hestillbroughtitupeverychancehegot.

Hewasnevergoingtoletmeliveitdown.

“That’sright,Icalledyouaposeur,poseur.”Istoodandgotupinhisgrille.“You’reanignorantknow-nothingtwink.Justbecauseyou’refourteenth-level,itdoesn’tmakeyouagunter.Youactuallyhavetopossesssomeknowledge.”

“Word,”Aechsaid,noddinghisagreement.Webumpedfists.Moresnickeringfromthecrowd,nowdirectedatI-r0k.

I-r0kglaredatusamoment.“OK.Let’sseewhotherealposeuris,”

hesaid.“Checkthisout,girls.”Grinning,heproducedanitemfromhisinventoryandhelditup.ItwasanoldAtari2600game,stillinthebox.

Hepurposefullycoveredthegame’stitlewithhishand,butIrecognizedthecoverartworkanyway.ItwasapaintingofayoungmanandwomaninancientGreekattire,bothbrandishingswords.Lurkingbehindthemwereaminotaurandabeardedguywithaneyepatch.“Knowwhatthisis,hotshot?”I-r0ksaid,challengingme.“I’llevengiveyouaclue....It’sanAtarigame,releasedaspartofacontest.Itcontainedseveralpuzzles,andifyousolvedthem,youcouldwinaprize.Soundfamiliar?”

I-r0kwasalwaystryingtoimpressuswithsomeclueorpieceofHallidaylorehefoolishlybelievedhe’dbeenthefirsttouncover.Gunterslovedtoplaythegameofone-upmanshipandwereconstantlytryingtoprovetheyhadacquiredmoreobscureknowledgethaneveryoneelse.ButI-r0ktotallysuckedatit.

“You’rejoking,right?”Isaid.“YoujustnowdiscoveredtheSwordquest

series?”

I-r0kdeflated.

“You’reholdingSwordquest:Earthworld,”Icontinued.“ThefirstgameintheSwordquestseries.Releasedin1982.”Ismiledwide.“Canyounamethenextthreegamesintheseries?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd43

5/24/112:04PM

44:ErnestCline

Hiseyesnarrowed.Hewas,ofcourse,stumped.LikeIsaid,hewasatotalposeur.

“Anyoneelse?”Isaid,openingthequestionuptothefloor.Theguntersinthecrowdeyedeachother,butnoonespokeup.

“Fireworld,Waterworld,andAirworld,”Aechanswered.

“Bingo!”Isaid,andwebumpedfistsagain.“AlthoughAirworldwasneveractuallyfinished,becauseAtarifellonhardtimesandcanceledthecontestbeforeitwascompleted.”

I-r0kquietlyputthegameboxbackinhisinventory.

“YoushouldjoinupwiththeSux0rz,I-r0k,”Aechsaid,laughing.“Theycouldreallyusesomeonewithyourvaststoresofknowledge.”

I-r0kflippedhimthebird.“IfyoutwofagsalreadyknewabouttheSwordquestcontest,howcomeI’veneveronceheardyoumentionit?”

“Comeon,I-r0k,”Aechsaid,shakinghishead.“Swordquest:EarthworldwasAtari’sunofficialsequeltoAdventure.Everygunterworththeirsaltknowsaboutthatcontest.Howmuchmoreobviouscanyouget?”

I-r0ktriedtosavesomeface.“OK,ifyou’rebothsuchexperts,whoprogrammedalloftheSwordquestgames?”

“DanHitchensandTodFrye,”Irecited.“Tryaskingmesomethingdifficult.”

“Igotoneforyou,”Aechinterjected.“WhatweretheprizesAtarigaveouttothewinnerofeachcontest?”

“Ah,”Isaid.“Goodone.Let’ssee....TheprizefortheEarthworldcontestwastheTalismanofPenultimateTruth.Itwassolidgoldandencrustedwithdiamonds.Thekidwhowonitmelteditdowntopayforcollege,asIrecall.”

“Yeah,yeah,”Aechprodded.“Quitstalling.Whatabouttheothertwo?”

“I’mnotstalling.TheFireworldprizewastheChaliceofLight,andtheWaterworldprizewassupposedtobetheCrownofLife,butitwasneverawarded,duetothecancellationofthecontest.SamegoesfortheAirworldprize,whichwassupposedtobeaPhilosopher’sStone.”

Aechgrinnedandgavemeadoublehighfive,thenadded,“Andifthecontesthadn’tbeencanceled,thewinnersofthefirstfourroundswouldhavecompetedforthegrandprize,theSwordofUltimateSorcery.”

Inodded.“TheprizeswereallmentionedintheSwordquestcomicbooksthatcamewiththegames.Comicbookswhichhappentobevis-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd44

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:45

ibleinthetreasureroominthefinalsceneofAnorak’sInvitation,bytheway.”

Thecrowdburstintoapplause.I-r0kloweredhisheadinshame.

SinceI’dbecomeagunter,ithadbeenobvioustomethatHallidayhaddrawninspirationforhiscontestfromtheSwordquestcontest.Ihadnoideaifhe’dborrowedanyofthepuzzlesfromthemtoo,butI’dstudiedthegamesandtheirsolutionsthoroughly,justtobesafe.

“Fine.Youwin,”I-r0ksaid.“Butyoubothobviouslyneedtogetalife.”

“Andyou,”Isaid,“obviouslyneedtofindanewhobby.Becauseyouclearlylacktheintelligenceandcommitmenttobeagunter.”

“Nodoubt,”Aechsaid.“Trydoingsomeresearchforachange,I-r0k.Imean,didyoueverhearofWikipedia?It’sfree,douchebag.”

I-r0kturnedandwalkedovertothelongboxesofcomicbooksstackedontheothersideoftheroom,asifhe’dlostinterestinthediscussion.

“Whatever,”hesaidoverhisshoulder.“IfIdidn’tspendsomuchtimeoffline,gettinglaid,I’dprobablyknowjustasmuchworthlessshitasyoutwodo.”

Aechignoredhimandturnedbacktome.“WhatwerethenamesofthetwinswhoappearedintheSwordquestcomicbooks?”

“TarraandTorr.”

“Damn,Z!Youaretheman.”

“Thanks,Aech.”

Amessageflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatthethree-minute-warningbellhadjustrunginmyclassroom.IknewAechandI-r0kwereseeingthesamewarning,becauseourschoolsoperatedonthesameschedule.

“Timeforanotherdayofhigherlearning,”Aechsaid,standingup.

“Drag,”I-r0ksaid.“Seeyouloserslater.”Hegavemethefinger;thenhisavatardisappearedasheloggedoutofthechatroom.Theotherguntersbegantologoutandvanishtoo,untilonlyAechandIremained.

“Seriously,Aech,”Isaid.“Whydoyouletthatmoronhangouthere?”

“Becausehe’sfuntobeatatvideogames.Andhisignorancegivesmehope.”

“Howso?”

“BecauseifmostoftheotherguntersoutthereareascluelessasI-r0k—

andtheyare,Z,believeme—thatmeansyouandIreallydohaveashotatwinningthecontest.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd45

5/24/112:04PM

46:ErnestCline

Ishrugged.“Iguessthat’sonewaytolookatit.”

“Wannahangafterschoolagaintonight?Aroundsevenorso?I’vegotafewerrandstorun,butthenI’mgonnatacklesomeofthestuffonmyneed-to-watchlist.ASpacedmarathon,perhaps?”

“Oh,hellyes,”Isaid.“Countmein.”

Weloggedoutsimultaneously,justasthefinalbellbegantoring.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd46

5/24/112:04PM

Myavatar’seyesslidopen,andIwasbackinmyWorldHistoryclassroom.Theseatsaroundmewerenowfilledwithotherstudents,andourteacher,Mr.Avenovich,wasmaterializingatthefrontoftheclassroom.Mr.A’savatarlookedlikeaportly,beardedcollegeprofessor.Hesportedaninfectiousgrin,wire-rimmedspectacles,andatweedjacketwithpatchesontheelbows.Whenhespoke,hesomehowalwaysmanagedtosoundlikehewasreadingapassagefromDickens.Ilikedhim.Hewasagoodteacher.

Ofcourse,wedidn’tknowwhoMr.Avenovichreallywasorwherehelived.Wedidn’tknowhisrealname,orevenif“he”wasreallyaman.Forallweknew,hecouldhavebeenasmallInuitwomanlivinginAnchorage,Alaska,whohadadoptedthisappearanceandvoicetomakeherstudentsmorereceptivetoherlessons.Butforsomereason,IsuspectedthatMr.

Avenovich’savatarlookedandsoundedjustlikethepersonoperatingit.

Allofmyteacherswereprettygreat.Unliketheirreal-worldcounter-parts,mostoftheOASISpublicschoolteachersseemedtogenuinelyenjoytheirjob,probablybecausetheydidn’thavetospendhalftheirtimeactingasbabysittersanddisciplinarians.TheOASISsoftwaretookcareofthat,ensuringthatstudentsremainedquietandintheirseats.Alltheteachershadtodowasteach.

Itwasalsoaloteasierforonlineteacherstoholdtheirstudents’attention,becausehereintheOASIS,theclassroomswerelikeholodecks.

Teacherscouldtaketheirstudentsonavirtualfieldtripeveryday,withouteverleavingtheschoolgrounds.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd47

5/24/112:04PM

48:ErnestCline

DuringourWorldHistorylessonthatmorning,Mr.Avenovichloadedupastand-alonesimulationsothatourclasscouldwitnessthediscoveryofKingTut’stombbyarchaeologistsinEgyptinAD1922.(Thedaybefore,we’dvisitedthesamespotin1334BCandhadseenTutankhamen’sempireinallitsglory.)

Inmynextclass,Biology,wetraveledthroughahumanheartandwatcheditpumpingfromtheinside,justlikeinthatoldmovieFantasticVoyage.

InArtclasswetouredtheLouvrewhileallofouravatarsworesillyberets.

InmyAstronomyclasswevisitedeachofJupiter’smoons.WestoodonthevolcanicsurfaceofIowhileourteacherexplainedhowthemoonhadoriginallyformed.Asourteacherspoketous,Jupiterloomedbehindher,fillinghalfthesky,itsGreatRedSpotchurningslowlyjustoverherleftshoulder.ThenshesnappedherfingersandwewerestandingonEuropa,discussingthepossibilityofextraterrestriallifebeneaththemoon’sicycrust.

Ispentmylunchperiodsittinginoneofthegreenfieldsborderingtheschool,staringatthesimulatedscenerywhileImunchedonaproteinbarwithmyvisoron.Itbeatstaringattheinsideofmyhideout.Iwasasenior,soIwasallowedtogooff-worldduringlunchifIwantedto,butIdidn’thavethatkindofsparedoughtoblow.

LoggingintotheOASISwasfree,buttravelingaroundinsideitwasn’t.

Mostofthetime,Ididn’thaveenoughcreditstoteleportoff-worldandgetbacktoLudus.Whenthelastbellrangeachday,thestudentswhohadthingstodointherealworldwouldlogoutoftheOASISandvanish.Everyoneelsewouldheadoff-world.Alotofkidsownedtheirowninterplanetaryvehicles.SchoolparkinglotsalloverLuduswerefilledwithUFOs,TIEfighters,oldNASAspaceshuttles,VipersfromBattlestarGa-lactica,andotherspacecraftdesignsliftedfromeverysci-fimovieandTVshowyoucanthinkof.EveryafternoonIwouldstandontheschool’sfrontlawnandwatchwithenvyastheseshipsfilledthesky,zoomingofftoexplorethesimulation’sendlesspossibilities.Thekidswhodidn’townshipswouldeitherhitcharidewithafriendorstampedetothenearesttransportterminal,headedforsomeoffworlddanceclub,gamingarena,orrockconcert.Butnotme.Iwasn’tgoinganywhere.IwasstrandedonLudus,themostboringplanetintheentireOASIS.

TheOntologicallyAnthropocentricSensoryImmersiveSimulationwasabigplace.

WhentheOASIShadfirstbeenlaunched,itcontainedonlyafewhundredplanetsforuserstoexplore,allcreatedbyGSSprogrammersandart-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd48

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:49

ists.Theirenvironmentsranthegamut,fromsword-and-sorcerysettingstocyberpunk-themedplanetwidecitiestoirradiatedpostapocalypticzombie-infestedwastelands.Someplanetsweredesignedwithpainstakingdetail.Otherswererandomlygeneratedfromaseriesoftemplates.EachonewaspopulatedwithavarietyofartificiallyintelligentNPCs(nonplayercharacters)—computer-controlledhumans,animals,monsters,aliens,andandroidswithwhichOASISuserscouldinteract.

GSShadalsolicensedpreexistingvirtualworldsfromtheircompetitors,socontentthathadalreadybeencreatedforgameslikeEverquestandWorldofWarcraftwasportedovertotheOASIS,andcopiesofNorrathandAzerothwereaddedtothegrowingcatalogofOASISplanets.Othervirtualworldssoonfollowedsuit,fromtheMetaversetotheMatrix.TheFireflyuniversewasanchoredinasectoradjacenttotheStarWarsgalaxy,withadetailedre-creationoftheStarTrekuniverseinthesectoradjacenttothat.Userscouldnowteleportbackandforthbetweentheirfavoritefictionalworlds.MiddleEarth.Vulcan.Pern.Arrakis.Magrathea.Disc-world,Mid-World,Riverworld,Ringworld.Worldsuponworlds.

Forthesakeofzoningandnavigation,theOASIShadbeendividedequallyintotwenty-sevencube-shaped“sectors,”eachcontaininghundredsofdifferentplanets.(Thethree-dimensionalmapofalltwenty-sevensectorsdistinctlyresembledan’80spuzzletoycalledaRubik’sCube.

Likemostgunters,Iknewthiswasnocoincidence.)Eachsectormeasuredexactlytenlight-hoursacross,orabout10.8billionkilometers.Soifyouweretravelingatthespeedoflight(thefastestspeedattainablebyanyspacecraft

insidetheOASIS),youcouldgetfromonesideofasectortotheotherinexactlytenhours.Thatsortoflong-distancetravelwasn’tcheap.

Spacecraftthatcouldtravelatlightspeedwererare,andtheyrequiredfueltooperate.ChargingpeopleforvirtualfueltopowertheirvirtualspaceshipswasoneofthewaysGregariousSimulationSystemsgeneratedrevenue,sinceaccessingtheOASISwasfree.ButGSS’sprimarysourceofincomecamefromteleportationfares.Teleportationwasthefastestwaytotravel,butitwasalsothemostexpensive.

TravelingaroundinsidetheOASISwasn’tjustcostly—itwasalsodangerous.Eachsectorwasdividedupintomanydifferentzonesthatvariedinsizeandshape.Somezonesweresolargethattheyencompassedseveralplanets,whileotherscoveredonlyafewkilometersonthesurfaceofasingleworld.Eachzonehadauniquecombinationofrulesandpa-rameters.Magicwouldfunctioninsomezonesandnotinothers.TheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd49

5/24/112:04PM

50:ErnestCline

samewastrueoftechnology.Ifyouflewyourtechnology-basedstarshipintoazonewheretechnologydidn’tfunction,yourengineswouldfailthemomentyoucrossedthezoneborder.Thenyou’dhavetohiresomesillygray-beardedsorcererwithaspell-poweredspacebargetotowyourassbackintoatechnologyzone.

Dualzonespermittedtheuseofbothmagicandtechnology,andnullzonesdidn’talloweither.Therewerepacifistzoneswherenoplayer-versus-playercombatwasallowed,andplayer-versus-playerzoneswhereitwaseveryavatarforthemselves.

Youhadtobecarefulwheneveryouenteredanewzoneorsector.Youhadtobeprepared.

ButlikeIsaid,Ididn’thavethatproblem.Iwasstuckatschool.

Ludushadbeendesignedasaplaceoflearning,sotheplanethadbeencreated

withoutasinglequestportalorgamingzoneanywhereonitssurface.Theonlythingtobefoundherewerethousandsofidenticalschoolcampusesseparatedbyrollinggreenfields,perfectlylandscapedparks,rivers,meadows,andsprawlingtemplate-generatedforests.Therewerenocastles,dungeons,ororbitingspacefortressesformyavatartoraid.AndtherewerenoNPCvillains,monsters,oraliensformetofight,sotherewasnotreasureormagicitemsformetoplunder.

Thistotallysucked,foralotofreasons.

Completingquests,fightingNPCs,andgatheringtreasureweretheonlywaysalow-levelavatarlikeminecouldearnexperiencepoints(XPs).

EarningXPswashowyouincreasedyouravatar’spowerlevel,strength,andabilities.

AlotofOASISusersdidn’tcareabouttheiravatar’spowerlevelorbotherwiththegamingaspectsofthesimulationatall.TheyonlyusedtheOASISforentertainment,business,shopping,andhangingoutwiththeirfriends.TheseuserssimplyavoidedenteringanygamingorPvP

zoneswheretheirdefenselessfirst-levelavatarscouldbeattackedbyNPCsorbyotherplayers.Ifyoustayedinsafezones,likeLudus,youdidn’thavetoworryaboutyouravatargettingrobbed,kidnapped,orkilled.

Ihatedbeingstuckinasafezone.

IfIwasgoingtofindHalliday’segg,IknewIwouldeventuallyhavetoventureoutinthedangeroussectorsoftheOASIS.AndifIwasn’tpowerfulorwell-armedenoughtodefendmyself,Iwasn’tgoingtostayaliveforverylong.

Overthepastfiveyears,I’dmanagedtoslowly,graduallyraisemyavatarClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd50

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:51

uptothirdlevel.Thishadn’tbeeneasy.I’ddoneitbyhitchingridesoffworld

withotherstudents(mostlyAech)whohappenedtobeheadedtoaplanetwheremywussavatarcouldsurvive.I’dhavethemdropmenearanewbie-levelgamingzoneandspendtherestofthenightorweekendslayingorcs,kobolds,orsomeotherpiddlyclassofmonsterthatwastooweaktokillme.ForeachNPCmyavatardefeated,Iwouldearnafewmeagerexperiencepointsand,usually,ahandfulofcopperorsilvercoinsdroppedbymyslainfoes.Thesecoinswereinstantlyconvertedtocredits,whichIusedtopaytheteleportationfarebacktoLudus,oftenjustbeforethefinalschoolbellrang.Sometimes,butnotoften,oneoftheNPCsIkilledwoulddropanitem.ThatwashowI’dobtainedmyavatar’ssword,shield,andarmor.

I’dstoppedhitchingrideswithAechattheendofthepreviousschoolyear.Hisavatarwasnowabovethirtiethlevel,andsohewasalmostalwaysheadedtoaplanetwhereitwasn’tsafeformyavatar.Hewashappytodropmeonsomenoobworldalongtheway,butifIdidn’tearnenoughcreditstopayformyfarebacktoLudus,I’dwindupmissingschoolbecauseIwasstuckonsomeotherplanet.Thiswasnotanacceptableexcuse.I’dnowrackedupsomanyunexcusedabsencesthatIwasindangerofbeingexpelled.Ifthathappened,Iwouldhavetoreturnmyschool-issuedOASISconsoleandvisor.Worse,I’dbetransferredbacktoschoolintherealworldtofinishoutmysenioryearthere.Icouldn’triskthat.

SothesedaysIrarelyleftLudusatall.Iwasstuckhere,andstuckatthirdlevel.Havingathird-levelavatarwasacolossalembarrassment.

Noneoftheothergunterstookyouseriouslyunlessyouwereatleasttenthlevel.EventhoughI’dbeenaguntersincedayone,everyonestillconsideredmeanoob.Itwasbeyondfrustrating.

Indesperation,I’dtriedtofindapart-timeafter-schooljob,justtoearnsomewalking-aroundmoney.Iappliedfordozensoftechsupportandprogrammingjobs(mostlygruntconstructionwork,codingpartsofOASISmallsandofficebuildings),butitwascompletelyhopeless.Millionsofcollege-educatedadultscouldn’tgetoneofthosejobs.TheGreatRecessionwasnowenteringitsthirddecade,andunemploymentwasstillatarecordhigh.Eventhefast-foodjointsinmyneighborhoodhadatwo-yearwaitinglistforjobapplicants.

SoIremainedstuckatschool.Ifeltlikeakidstandingintheworld’sgreatestvideoarcadewithoutanyquarters,unabletodoanythingbutwalkaroundand

watchtheotherkidsplay.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd51

5/24/112:04PM

Afterlunch,Iheadedtomyfavoriteclass,AdvancedOASIS

Studies.Thiswasasenior-yearelectivewhereyoulearnedaboutthehistoryoftheOASISanditscreators.TalkaboutaneasyA.

Forthepastfiveyears,I’ddevotedallofmyfreetimetolearningasmuchasIpossiblycouldaboutJamesHalliday.I’dexhaustivelystudiedhislife,accomplishments,andinterests.OveradozendifferentHallidaybiographieshadbeenpublishedintheyearssincehisdeath,andI’dreadthemall.Severaldocumentaryfilmshadalsobeenmadeabouthim,andI’dstudiedthose,too.I’dstudiedeverywordHallidayhadeverwritten,andI’dplayedeveryvideogamehe’devermade.Itooknotes,writingdowneverydetailIthoughtmightberelatedtotheHunt.Ikepteverythinginanotebook(whichI’dstartedtocallmy“graildiary”afterwatchingthethirdIndianaJonesfilm).

ThemoreI’dlearnedaboutHalliday’slife,themoreI’dgrowntoidol-izehim.Hewasagodamonggeeks,anerdüber-deityonthelevelofGygax,Garriott,andGates.He’dlefthomeafterhighschoolwithnothingbuthiswitsandhisimagination,andhe’dusedthemtoattainworldwidefameandamassavastfortune.He’dcreatedanentirelynewrealitythatnowprovidedanescapeformostofhumanity.Andtotopitalloff,he’dturnedhislastwillandtestamentintothegreatestvideogamecontestofalltime.

IspentmostofmytimeinAdvancedOASISStudiesclassannoyingourteacher,Mr.Ciders,bypointingouterrorsinourtextbookandraisingmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd52

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:53

handtointerjectsomerelevantbitofHallidaytriviathatI(andIalone)thoughtwasinteresting.Afterthefirstfewweeksofclass,Mr.Cidershadstoppedcallingonmeunlessnooneelseknewtheanswertohisquestion.

Today,hewasreadingexcerptsfromTheEggMan,abestsellingHallidaybiographythatI’dalreadyreadfourtimes.Duringhislecture,Ikepthavingtoresisttheurgetointerrupthimandpointoutallofthereallyimportantdetailsthebookleftout.Instead,Ijustmadeamentalnoteofeachomission,andasMr.CidersbegantorecountthecircumstancesofHalliday’schildhood,IonceagaintriedtogleanwhateversecretsIcouldfromthestrangewayHallidayhadlivedhislife,andfromtheoddcluesabouthimselfhe’dchosentoleavebehind.

JamesDonovanHallidaywasbornonJune12,1972,inMiddletown,Ohio.Hewasanonlychild.Hisfatherwasanalcoholicmachineoperatorandhismotherwasabipolarwaitress.

Byallaccounts,Jameswasabrightboy,butsociallyinept.Hehadanextremelydifficulttimecommunicatingwiththepeoplearoundhim.Despitehisobviousintelligence,hedidpoorlyinschool,becausemostofhisattentionwasfocusedoncomputers,comicbooks,sci-fiandfantasynovels,movies,andaboveallelse,videogames.

Onedayinjuniorhigh,HallidaywassittingaloneinthecafeteriareadingaDungeons&DragonsPlayer’sHandbook.Thegamefascinatedhim,buthe’dneveractuallyplayedit,becausehe’dneverhadanyfriendstoplayitwith.AboyinhisclassnamedOgdenMorrownoticedwhatHallidaywasreadingandinvitedhimtoattendoneoftheweeklyD&Dgamingsessionsheldathishouse.There,inMorrow’sbasement,Hallidaywasintroducedtoanentiregroupof“megageeks”justlikehimself.Theyimmediatelyacceptedhimasoneoftheirown,andforthefirsttimeinhislife,JamesHallidayhadacircleoffriends.

OgdenMorroweventuallybecameHalliday’sbusinesspartner,collab-orator,andbestfriend.ManywouldlaterlikenthepairingofMorrowandHallidaytothatofJobsandWozniakorLennonandMcCartney.Itwasapartnershipdestinedtoalterthecourseofhumanhistory.

Atagefifteen,Hallidaycreatedhisfirstvideogame,Anorak’sQuest.HeprogrammeditinBASIConaTRS-80ColorComputerhe’dreceivedthepreviousChristmas(thoughhe’daskedhisparentsfortheslightlymoreClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd53

5/24/112:04PM

54:ErnestCline

expensiveCommodore64).Anorak’sQuestwasanadventuregamesetinChthonia,thefantasyworldHallidayhadcreatedforhishigh-schoolDungeons&Dragonscampaign.“Anorak”wasanicknameHallidayhadbeengivenbyafemaleBritishexchangestudentathishighschool.HelikedthenameAnoraksomuchthathe’duseditforhisfavoriteD&D

character,thepowerfulwizardwholaterappearedinmanyofhisvideogames.

HallidaycreatedAnorak’sQuestforfun,tosharewiththeguysinhisD&Dgaminggroup.Theyallfoundthegameaddictive,andlostcountlesshoursattemptingtosolveitsintricateriddlesandpuzzles.OgdenMorrowconvincedHallidaythatAnorak’sQuestwasbetterthanmostofthecomputergamescurrentlyonthemarket,andencouragedhimtotrysellingit.HehelpedHallidaycreatesomesimplecoverartworkforthegame,andtogether,thetwoofthemhand-copiedAnorak’sQuestontodozensof5¼-inchfloppydisksandstuckthemintoZiplocbagsalongwithasinglephotocopiedsheetofinstructions.Theybegansellingthegameonthesoftwarerackattheirlocalcomputerstore.Beforelong,theycouldn’tmakecopiesfastenoughtomeetthedemand.

MorrowandHallidaydecidedtostarttheirownvideogamecompany,GregariousGames,whichinitiallyoperatedoutofMorrow’sbasement.

HallidayprogrammednewversionsofAnorak’sQuestfortheAtari800XL,AppleII,andCommodore64computers,andMorrowbeganplacingadsforthegameinthebackofseveralcomputermagazines.Withinsixmonths,Anorak’sQuestbecameanationalbestseller.

HallidayandMorrowalmostdidn’tgraduatefromhighschoolbecausetheyspentmostoftheirsenioryearworkingonAnorak’sQuestII.Andinsteadof

goingofftocollege,theybothfocusedalloftheirenergyontheirnewcompany,whichhadnowgrowntoolargeforMorrow’sbasement.In1990,GregariousGamesmovedintoitsfirstrealoffice,locatedinarun-downstripmallinColumbus,Ohio.

Overthenextdecade,thesmallcompanytookthevideogameindustrybystorm,releasingaseriesofbestsellingactionandadventuregames,allusingagroundbreakingfirst-persongraphicsenginecreatedbyHalliday.

GregariousGamessetanewstandardforimmersivegaming,andeverytimetheyreleasedanewtitle,itpushedtheenvelopeofwhatseemedpossibleonthecomputerhardwareavailableatthetime.

TherotundOgdenMorrowwasnaturallycharismatic,andhehandledClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd54

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:55

allofthecompany’sbusinessaffairsandpublicrelations.AteveryGregariousGamespressconference,Morrowgrinnedinfectiouslyfrombehindhisunrulybeardandwire-rimmedspectacles,usinghisnaturalgiftforhypeandhyperbole.HallidayseemedtobeMorrow’spolaroppositeineveryway.Hewastall,gaunt,andpainfullyshy,andhepreferredtostayoutofthelimelight.

PeopleemployedbyGregariousGamesduringthisperiodsaythatHallidayfrequentlylockedhimselfinhisoffice,whereheprogrammedincessantly,oftengoingwithoutfood,sleep,orhumancontactfordaysorevenweeks.

OnthefewoccasionsthatHallidayagreedtodointerviews,hisbe-haviorcameoffasbizarre,evenbygame-designerstandards.Hewashyperkinetic,aloof,andsosociallyineptthattheinterviewersoftencameawaywiththeimpressionhewasmentallyill.Hallidaytendedtospeaksorapidlythathiswordswereoftenunintelligible,andhehadadisturbinghigh-pitchedlaugh,madeevenmoresobecausehewasusuallytheonlyonewhoknewwhathewaslaughingabout.WhenHallidaygotboredduringaninterview(orconversation),hewouldusuallygetupandwalkoutwithoutsayingaword.

Hallidayhadmanywell-knownobsessions.Chiefamongthemwereclassicvideogames,sci-fiandfantasynovels,andmoviesofallgenres.

Healsohadanextremefixationonthe1980s,thedecadeduringwhichhe’dbeenateenager.Hallidayseemedtoexpecteveryonearoundhimtosharehisobsessions,andheoftenlashedoutatthosewhodidn’t.Hewasknowntofirelongtimeemployeesfornotrecognizinganobscurelineofmoviedialoguehequoted,orifhediscoveredtheyweren’tfamiliarwithoneofhisfavoritecartoons,comicbooks,orvideogames.(OgdenMorrowwouldalwayshiretheemployeeback,usuallywithoutHallidayevernoticing.)

Astheyearswenton,Halliday’salready-stuntedsocialskillsseemedtodeteriorateevenfurther.(SeveralexhaustivepsychologicalstudiesweredoneonHallidayfollowinghisdeath,andhisobsessiveadherencetoroutineandpreoccupationwithafewobscureareasofinterestledmanypsychologiststoconcludethatHallidayhadsufferedfromAsperger’ssyn-drome,orfromsomeotherformofhigh-functioningautism.)Despitehiseccentricities,nooneeverquestionedHalliday’sgenius.

Thegameshecreatedwereaddictiveandwildlypopular.BytheendofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd55

5/24/112:04PM

56:ErnestCline

thetwentiethcentury,Hallidaywaswidelyrecognizedasthegreatestvideogamedesignerofhisgeneration—and,somewouldargue,ofalltime.

OgdenMorrowwasabrilliantprogrammerinhisownright,buthistruetalentwashisknackforbusiness.Inadditiontocollaboratingonthecompany’sgames,hemastermindedalloftheirearlymarketingcampaignsandsharewaredistributionschemes,withastoundingresults.

WhenGregariousGamesfinallywentpublic,theirstockimmediatelyshotintothestratosphere.

Bytheirthirtiethbirthdays,HallidayandMorrowwerebothmultimil-lionaires.

Theypurchasedmansionsonthesamestreet.MorrowboughtaLamborghini,tookseverallongvacations,andtraveledtheworld.HallidayboughtandrestoredoneoftheoriginalDeLoreansusedintheBacktotheFuturefilms,continuedtospendnearlyallofhistimeweldedtoacomputerkeyboard,andusedhisnewfoundwealthtoamasswhatwouldeventuallybecometheworld’slargestprivatecollectionofclassicvideogames,StarWarsactionfigures,vintagelunchboxes,andcomicbooks.

Attheheightofitssuccess,GregariousGamesappearedtofalldor-mant.Severalyearselapsedduringwhichtheyreleasednonewgames.

Morrowmadecrypticannouncements,sayingthecompanywasworkingonanambitiousprojectthatwouldmovetheminanentirelynewdirection.RumorsbegantocirculatethatGregariousGameswasdevelopingsomesortofnewcomputergaminghardwareandthatthissecretprojectwasrapidlyexhaustingthecompany’sconsiderablefinancialresources.

TherewerealsoindicationsthatbothHallidayandMorrowhadinvestedmostoftheirownpersonalfortunesinthecompany’snewendeavor.WordbegantospreadthatGregariousGameswasindangerofgoingbankrupt.

Then,inDecember2012,GregariousGamesrebrandeditselfasGregariousSimulationSystems,andunderthisnewbannertheylaunchedtheirflagshipproduct,theonlyproductGSSwouldeverrelease:theOASIS—theOntologicallyAnthropocentricSensoryImmersiveSimulation.

TheOASISwouldultimatelychangethewaypeoplearoundtheworldlived,worked,andcommunicated.Itwouldtransformentertainment,socialnetworking,andevenglobalpolitics.Eventhoughitwasinitiallymarketedasanewkindofmassivelymultiplayeronlinegame,theOASIS

quicklyevolvedintoanewwayoflife.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd56

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:57

InthedaysbeforetheOASIS,massivelymultiplayeronlinegames(MMOs)wereamongthefirstsharedsyntheticenvironments.Theyallowedthousandsofplayerstosimultaneouslycoexistinsideasimulatedworld,whichtheyconnectedtoviatheInternet.Theoverallsizeoftheseenvironmentswasrelativelysmall,usuallyjustasingleworld,oradozenorsosmallplanets.MMOplayerscouldonlyseetheseonlineenvironmentsthroughasmalltwo-dimensionalwindow—theirdesktopcomputermonitor—

andtheycouldonlyinteractwithitbyusingkeyboards,mice,andothercrudeinputdevices.

GregariousSimulationSystemselevatedtheMMOconcepttoanentirelynewlevel.TheOASISdidn’tlimititsuserstojustoneplanet,orevenadozen.TheOASIScontainedhundreds(andeventuallythousands)ofhigh-resolution3-Dworldsforpeopletoexplore,andeachonewasbeautifullyrenderedinmeticulousgraphicaldetail,rightdowntobugsandbladesofgrass,windandweatherpatterns.Userscouldcircumnavigateeachoftheseplanetsandneverseethesameterraintwice.Eveninitsfirstprimitiveincarnation,thescopeofthesimulationwasstaggering.

HallidayandMorrowreferredtotheOASISasan“open-sourcereality,”amalleableonlineuniversethatanyonecouldaccessviatheInternet,usingtheirexistinghomecomputerorvideogameconsole.Youcouldloginandinstantlyescapethedrudgeryofyourday-to-daylife.Youcouldcreateanentirelynewpersonaforyourself,withcompletecontroloverhowyoulookedandsoundedtoothers.IntheOASIS,thefatcouldbecomethin,theuglycouldbecomebeautiful,andtheshy,extroverted.Orviceversa.Youcouldchangeyourname,age,sex,race,height,weight,voice,haircolor,andbonestructure.Oryoucouldceasebeinghumanaltogether,andbecomeanelf,ogre,alien,oranyothercreaturefromlit-erature,movies,ormythology.

IntheOASIS,youcouldbecomewhomeverandwhateveryouwantedtobe,withouteverrevealingyourtrueidentity,becauseyouranonymitywasguaranteed.

UserscouldalsoalterthecontentofthevirtualworldsinsidetheOASIS,orcreateentirelynewones.Aperson’sonlinepresencewasnolongerlimitedtoa

websiteorasocial-networkingprofile.IntheOASIS,youcouldcreateyourownprivateplanet,buildavirtualmansiononit,furnishanddecorateithoweveryouliked,andinviteafewthousandfriendsoverforaparty.Andthosefriendscouldbeinadozendifferenttimezones,spreadallovertheglobe.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd57

5/24/112:04PM

58:ErnestCline

ThekeystothesuccessoftheOASISwerethetwonewpiecesofinterfacehardwarethatGSShadcreated,bothofwhichwererequiredtoaccessthesimulation:theOASISvisorandhapticgloves.

Thewirelessone-size-fits-allOASISvisorwasslightlylargerthanapairofsunglasses.Itusedharmlesslow-poweredlaserstodrawthestunninglyrealenvironmentoftheOASISrightontoitswearer’sretinas,completelyimmersingtheirentirefieldofvisionintheonlineworld.Thevisorwaslight-yearsaheadoftheclunkyvirtual-realitygogglesavailablepriortothattime,anditrepresentedaparadigmshiftinvirtual-realitytechnology—asdidthelightweightOASIShapticgloves,whichalloweduserstodirectlycontrolthehandsoftheiravatarandtointeractwiththeirsimulatedenvironmentasiftheywereactuallyinsideit.Whenyoupickedupobjects,openeddoors,oroperatedvehicles,thehapticglovesmadeyoufeelthesenonexistentobjectsandsurfacesasiftheywerereallyrightthereinfrontofyou.Theglovesletyou,asthetelevisionadsputit,“reachinandtouchtheOASIS.”Workingtogether,thevisorandtheglovesmadeenteringtheOASISanexperienceunlikeanythingelseavailable,andoncepeoplegotatasteofit,therewasnogoingback.

Thesoftwarethatpoweredthesimulation,Halliday’snewOASISRealityEngine,alsorepresentedahugetechnologicalbreakthrough.Itmanagedtoovercomelimitationsthathadplaguedprevioussimulatedrealities.Inadditiontorestrictingtheoverallsizeoftheirvirtualenvironments,earlierMMOshadbeenforcedtolimittheirvirtualpopula-tions,usuallytoafewthousandusersperserver.Iftoomanypeoplewereloggedinatthesametime,thesimulationwouldslowtoacrawlandavatarswouldfreezeinmidstrideasthesystemstruggledtokeepup.ButtheOASISutilizedanewkindoffault-tolerantserverarraythat

coulddrawadditionalprocessingpowerfromeverycomputerconnectedtoit.Atthetimeofitsinitiallaunch,theOASIScouldhandleuptofivemillionsimultaneoususers,withnodiscerniblelatencyandnochanceofasystemcrash.

AmassivemarketingcampaignpromotedthelaunchoftheOASIS.

Thepervasivetelevision,billboard,andInternetadsfeaturedalushgreenoasis,completewithpalmtreesandapoolofcrystalbluewater,surroundedonallsidesbyavastbarrendesert.

GSS’snewendeavorwasamassivesuccessfromdayone.TheOASIS

waswhatpeoplehadbeendreamingoffordecades.The“virtualreality”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd58

5/24/112:04PM

ReadyPlayerOne:59

theyhadbeenpromisedforsolongwasfinallyhere,anditwasevenbetterthanthey’dimagined.TheOASISwasanonlineutopia,aholodeckforthehome.Anditsbiggestsellingpoint?Itwasfree.

Mostonlinegamesofthedaygeneratedrevenuebychargingusersamonthlysubscriptionfeeforaccess.GSSonlychargedaonetimesign-upfeeoftwenty-fivecents,forwhichyoureceivedalifetimeOASISaccount.

Theadsallusedthesametagline:TheOASIS—it’sthegreatestvideogameevercreated,anditonlycostsaquarter.

Atatimeofdrasticsocialandculturalupheaval,whenmostoftheworld’spopulationlongedforanescapefromreality,theOASISprovidedit,inaformthatwascheap,legal,safe,andnot(medicallyproventobe)addictive.TheongoingenergycrisiscontributedgreatlytotheOASIS’srunawaypopularity.Theskyrocketingcostofoilmadeairlineandauto-mobiletraveltooexpensivefortheaveragecitizen,andtheOASISbecametheonlygetawaymostpeoplecouldafford.Astheeraofcheap,abundantenergydrewtoaclose,povertyand

unrestbegantospreadlikeavirus.

Everyday,moreandmorepeoplehadreasontoseeksolaceinsideHallidayandMorrow’svirtualutopia.

AnybusinessthatwantedtosetupshopinsidetheOASIShadtorentorpurchasevirtualrealestate(whichMorrowdubbed“surrealestate”)fromGSS.Anticipatingthis,thecompanyhadsetasideSectorOneasthesimulation’sdesignatedbusinesszoneandbegantosellandrentmillionsofblocksofsurrealestatethere.City-sizedshoppingmallswereerectedintheblinkofaneye,andstorefrontsspreadacrossplanetsliketime-lapsefootageofmolddevouringanorange.Urbandevelopmenthadneverbeensoeasy.

InadditiontothebillionsofdollarsthatGSSrakedinsellinglandthatdidn’tactuallyexist,theymadeakillingsellingvirtualobjectsandvehicles.TheOASISbecamesuchanintegralpartofpeople’sday-to-daysociallivesthatusersweremorethanwillingtoshelloutrealmoneytobuyaccessoriesfortheiravatars:clothing,furniture,houses,flyingcars,magicswordsandmachineguns.TheseitemswerenothingbutonesandzerosstoredontheOASISservers,buttheywerealsostatussymbols.Mostitemsonlycostafewcredits,butsincetheycostnothingforGSStomanufacture,itwasallprofit.Eveninthethroesofanongoingeconomicrecession,theOASISallowedAmericanstocontinueengagingintheirfavoritepastime:shopping.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd59

5/24/112:04PM

60:ErnestCline

TheOASISquicklybecamethesinglemostpopularusefortheInternet,somuchsothattheterms“OASIS”and“Internet”graduallybecamesynonymous.Andtheincrediblyeasy-to-usethree-dimensionalOASIS

OS,whichGSSgaveawayforfree,becamethesinglemostpopularcomputeroperatingsystemintheworld.

Beforelong,billionsofpeoplearoundtheworldwereworkingandplayingin

theOASISeveryday.Someofthemmet,fellinlove,andgotmarriedwithouteversettingfootonthesamecontinent.Thelinesofdistinctionbetweenaperson’srealidentityandthatoftheiravatarbegantoblur.

Itwasthedawnofnewera,onewheremostofthehumanracenowspentalloftheirfreetimeinsideavideogame.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd60

5/24/112:05PM

Therestofmyschooldaypassedquicklyuntilmyfinalclass,Latin.

Moststudentstookaforeignlanguagetheymightactuallybeabletousesomeday,likeMandarin,orHindi,orSpanish.I’ddecidedtotakeLatinbecauseJamesHallidayhadtakenLatin.He’dalsooccasionallyusedLatinwordsandphrasesinhisearlyadventuregames.Unfortunately,evenwiththelimitlesspossibilitiesoftheOASISatherdisposal,myLatinteacher,Ms.Rank,stillhadahardtimemakingherlessonsinteresting.

AndtodayshewasreviewingabunchofverbsI’dalreadymemorized,soIfoundmyattentiondriftingalmostimmediately.

Whileaclasswasinsession,thesimulationpreventedstudentsfromaccessinganydataorprogramsthatweren’tauthorizedbytheirteacher,topreventkidsfromwatchingmovies,playinggames,orchattingwitheachotherinsteadofpayingattentiontothelesson.Luckily,duringmyjunioryear,I’ddiscoveredabugintheschool’sonlinelibrarysoftware,andbyexploitingit,Icouldaccessanybookintheschool’sonlinelibrary,includingAnorak’sAlmanac.SowheneverIgotbored(likerightnow)Iwouldpullitupinawindowonmydisplayandreadovermyfavoritepassagestopassthetime.

Overthepastfiveyears,theAlmanachadbecomemybible.Likemostbooksnowadays,itwasonlyavailableinelectronicformat.ButI’dwantedtobeabletoreadtheAlmanacnightorday,evenduringoneofthestacks’

frequentpoweroutages,soI’dfixedupanolddiscardedlaserprinterandusedittoprintoutahardcopy.Iputitinanoldthree-ringbinderthatIkeptinmybackpackandstudieduntilIkneweverywordbyheart.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd61

5/24/112:05PM

62:ErnestCline

TheAlmanaccontainedthousandsofreferencestoHalliday’sfavoritebooks,TVshows,movies,songs,graphicnovels,andvideogames.Mostoftheseitemswereoverfortyyearsold,andsofreedigitalcopiesofthemcouldbedownloadedfromtheOASIS.IftherewassomethingIneededthatwasn’tlegallyavailableforfree,IcouldalmostalwaysgetitbyusingGuntorrent,afile-sharingprogramusedbyguntersaroundtheworld.

Whenitcametomyresearch,Inevertookanyshortcuts.Overthepastfiveyears,I’dworkedmywaydowntheentirerecommendedgunterreadinglist.DouglasAdams.KurtVonnegut.NealStephenson.RichardK.Mor-gan.StephenKing.OrsonScottCard.TerryPratchett.TerryBrooks.Bester,Bradbury,Haldeman,Heinlein,Tolkien,Vance,Gibson,Gaiman,Sterling,Moorcock,Scalzi,Zelazny.IreadeverynovelbyeverysingleoneofHalliday’sfavoriteauthors.

AndIdidn’tstopthere.

IalsowatchedeverysinglefilmhereferencedintheAlmanac.IfitwasoneofHalliday’sfavorites,likeWarGames,Ghostbusters,RealGenius,BetterOffDead,orRevengeoftheNerds,IrewatchedituntilIkneweveryscenebyheart.

IdevouredeachofwhatHallidayreferredtoas“TheHolyTrilogies”:StarWars(originalandprequeltrilogies,inthatorder),LordoftheRings,TheMatrix,MadMax,BacktotheFuture,andIndianaJones.(HallidayoncesaidthathepreferredtopretendtheotherIndianaJonesfilms,fromKingdomoftheCrystalSkullonward,didn’texist.Itendedtoagree.)Ialsoabsorbedthecompletefilmographiesofeachofhisfavoritedirectors.Cameron,Gilliam,Jackson,Fincher,Kubrick,Lucas,Spielberg,DelToro,Tarantino.And,ofcourse,Kevin

Smith.

IspentthreemonthsstudyingeveryJohnHughesteenmovieandmemorizingallthekeylinesofdialogue.

Onlythemeekgetpinched.Theboldsurvive.

YoucouldsayIcoveredallthebases.

IstudiedMontyPython.AndnotjustHolyGrail,either.Everysingleoneoftheirfilms,albums,andbooks,andeveryepisodeoftheoriginalBBCseries.(Includingthosetwo“lost”episodestheydidforGermantelevision.)Iwasn’tgoingtocutanycorners.

Iwasn’tgoingtomisssomethingobvious.

Somewherealongtheway,Istartedtogooverboard.

Imay,infact,havestartedtogoalittleinsane.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd62

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:63

IwatchedeveryepisodeofTheGreatestAmericanHero,Airwolf,TheA-Team,KnightRider,MisfitsofScience,andTheMuppetShow.

WhataboutTheSimpsons,youask?

IknewmoreaboutSpringfieldthanIknewaboutmyowncity.

StarTrek?Oh,Ididmyhomework.TOS,TNG,DS9.EvenVoyagerandEnterprise.Iwatchedthemallinchronologicalorder.Themovies,too.

Phaserslockedontarget.

Igavemyselfacrashcoursein’80sSaturday-morningcartoons.

IlearnedthenameofeverylastgoddamnGobotandTransformer.

LandoftheLost,ThundarrtheBarbarian,He-Man,SchoolhouseRock!,G.I.Joe—Iknewthemall.Becauseknowingishalfthebattle.

Whowasmyfriend,whenthingsgotrough?H.R.Pufnstuf.

Japan?DidIcoverJapan?

Yes.Yesindeed.Animeandlive-action.Godzilla,Gamera,StarBlazers,TheSpaceGiants,andG-Force.Go,SpeedRacer,Go.

Iwasn’tsomedilettante.

Iwasn’tscrewingaround.

ImemorizedeverylastBillHicksstand-uproutine.

Music?Well,coveringallthemusicwasn’teasy.

Ittooksometime.

The’80swasalongdecade(tenwholeyears),andHallidaydidn’tseemtohavehadverydiscerningtaste.Helistenedtoeverything.SoIdidtoo.

Pop,rock,newwave,punk,heavymetal.FromthePolicetoJourneytoR.E.M.totheClash.Itackleditall.

IburnedthroughtheentireTheyMightBeGiantsdiscographyinundertwoweeks.Devotookalittlelonger.

IwatchedalotofYouTubevideosofcutegeekygirlsplaying’80scovertunesonukuleles.Technically,thiswasn’tpartofmyresearch,butIhadaseriouscute-geeky-girls-playing-ukulelesfetishthatIcanneitherexplainnordefend.

Imemorizedlyrics.Sillylyrics,bybandswithnameslikeVanHalen,BonJovi,DefLeppard,andPinkFloyd.

Ikeptatit.

Iburnedthemidnightoil.

DidyouknowthatMidnightOilwasanAustralianband,witha1987

hittitled“BedsAreBurning”?

Iwasobsessed.Iwouldn’tquit.Mygradessuffered.Ididn’tcare.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd63

5/24/112:05PM

64:ErnestCline

IreadeveryissueofeverycomicbooktitleHallidayhadevercollected.

Iwasn’tgoingtohaveanyonequestioningmycommitment.

Especiallywhenitcametothevideogames.

Videogamesweremyareaofexpertise.

Mydouble-weaponspecialization.

MydreamJeopardy!category.

IdownloadedeverygamementionedorreferencedintheAlmanac,fromAkalabethtoZaxxon.IplayedeachtitleuntilIhadmasteredit,thenmovedontothenextone.

You’dbeamazedhowmuchresearchyoucangetdonewhenyouhavenolifewhatsoever.Twelvehoursaday,sevendaysaweek,isalotofstudytime.

Iworkedmywaythrougheveryvideogamegenreandplatform.Classicarcadecoin-ops,homecomputer,console,andhandheld.Text-basedadventures,first-personshooters,third-personRPGs.Ancient8-,16-,and32-bitclassicswritteninthepreviouscentury.Theharderagamewastobeat,themoreIenjoyedit.AndasIplayedtheseancientdigitalrelics,nightafternight,yearafteryear,IdiscoveredIhadatalentforthem.Icouldmastermostactiontitlesinafewhours,andtherewasn’tanadventureorrole-playinggameIcouldn’tsolve.Ineverneededanywalkthroughsorcheatcodes.Everythingjustclicked.AndI

wasevenbetterattheoldarcadegames.WhenIwasinthezoneonahigh-speedclassiclikeDefender,Ifeltlikeahawkinflight,orthewayIthoughtasharkmustfeelasitcruisestheoceanfloor.Forthefirsttime,Iknewwhatitwastobeanaturalatsomething.Tohaveagift.

Butitwasn’tmyresearchintooldmovies,comics,orvideogamesthathadyieldedmyfirstrealclue.ThathadcomewhileIwasstudyingthehistoryofoldpen-and-paperrole-playinggames.

ReprintedonthefirstpageofAnorak’sAlmanacwerethefourrhyminglinesofverseHallidayhadrecitedintheInvitationvideo.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd64

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:65

Atfirst,thisseemedtobetheonlydirectreferencetothecontestintheentirealmanac.Butthen,buriedamongallthoseramblingjournalentriesandessaysonpopculture,Idiscoveredahiddenmessage.

ScatteredthroughoutthetextoftheAlmanacwereaseriesofmarkedletters.Eachoftheselettershadatiny,nearlyinvisible“notch”cutintoitsoutline.I’dfirstnoticedthesenotchestheyearafterHallidaydied.IwasreadingmyhardcopyoftheAlmanacatthetime,andsoatfirstIthoughtthenotcheswerenothingbuttinyprintingimperfections,perhapsduetothepaperortheancientprinterI’dusedtoprintouttheAlmanac.ButwhenIcheckedtheelectronic

versionofthebookavailableonHalliday’swebsite,Ifoundthesamenotchesontheexactsameletters.Andifyouzoomedinononeofthoseletters,thenotchesstoodoutasplainasday.

Hallidayhadputthemthere.He’dmarkedtheselettersforareason.

Thereturnedouttobeonehundredandtwelveofthesenotchedlettersscatteredthroughoutthebook.Bywritingthemdownintheordertheyappeared,Idiscoveredthattheyspelledsomething.InearlydiedofexcitementasIwroteitdowninmygraildiary:

TheCopperKeyawaitsexplorers

Inatombfilledwithhorrors

Butyouhavemuchtolearn

Ifyouhopetoearn

Aplaceamongthehighscorers

Otherguntershadalsodiscoveredthishiddenmessage,ofcourse,buttheywereallwiseenoughtokeepittothemselves.Forawhile,anyway.

AboutsixmonthsafterIdiscoveredthehiddenmessage,thisloudmouthMITfreshmanfoundittoo.HisnamewasStevenPendergast,andhedecidedtogethisfifteenminutesoffamebysharinghis“discovery”withthemedia.Thenewsfeedsbroadcastinterviewswiththismoronforamonth,eventhoughhedidn’thavethefirstclueaboutthemessage’smeaning.Afterthat,goingpublicwithacluebecameknownas“pullingaPendergast.”

Oncethemessagebecamepublicknowledge,guntersnicknamedit

“theLimerick.”Theentireworldhadknownaboutitforalmostfouryearsnow,butnooneseemedtounderstanditstruemeaning,andtheCopperKeystillhadyettobefound.

IknewHallidayhadfrequentlyusedsimilarriddlesinmanyofhisClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd65

5/24/112:05PM

66:ErnestCline

earlyadventuregames,andeachofthoseriddleshadmadesenseinthecontextofitsgame.SoIdevotedanentiresectionofmygraildiarytodecipheringtheLimerick,linebyline.

TheCopperKeyawaitsexplorers

Thislineseemedprettystraightforward.NohiddenmeaningthatIcoulddetect.

Inatombfilledwithhorrors.

Thislinewastrickier.Takenatfacevalue,itseemedtosaythatthekeywashiddeninatombsomewhere,onefilledwithhorrifyingstuff.Butthen,duringthecourseofmyresearch,IdiscoveredanoldDungeons&

DragonssupplementcalledTombofHorrors,whichhadbeenpublishedin1978.FromthemomentIsawthetitle,IwascertainthesecondlineoftheLimerickwasareferencetoit.HallidayandMorrowhadplayedAdvancedDungeons&Dragonsallthroughhighschool,alongwithseveralotherpen-and-paperrole-playinggames,likeGURPS,Champions,CarWars,andRolemaster.

TombofHorrorswasathinbookletcalleda“module.”Itcontaineddetailedmapsandroom-by-roomdescriptionsofanundergroundlabyrinthinfestedwithundeadmonsters.D&Dplayerscouldexplorethelabyrinthwiththeircharactersasthedungeonmasterreadfromthemoduleandguidedthemthroughthestoryitcontained,describingeverythingtheysawandencounteredalongtheway.

AsIlearnedmoreabouthowtheseearlyrole-playinggamesworked,IrealizedthataD&DmodulewastheprimitiveequivalentofaquestintheOASIS.AndD&Dcharacterswerejustlikeavatars.Inaway,theseoldrole-playinggameshadbeenthefirstvirtual-realitysimulations,createdlongbeforecomputerswerepowerfulenoughtodothejob.Inthosedays,ifyouwantedtoescapetoanotherworld,youhadtocreateityourself,usingyourbrain,somepaper,pencils,dice,andafewrulebooks.Thisrealizationkindofblewmymind.ItchangedmywholeperspectiveontheHuntforHalliday’sEasteregg.Fromthenon,IbegantothinkoftheHuntasanelaborateD&Dmodule.AndHallidaywasobviouslythedungeonmaster,evenifhewasnowcontrollingthegamefrombeyondthegrave.

Ifoundadigitalcopyofthesixty-seven-year-oldTombofHorrorsmoduleburieddeepinanancientFTParchive.AsIstudiedit,Ibegantodevelopatheory:SomewhereintheOASIS,Hallidayhadre-createdtheTombofHorrors,andhe’dhiddentheCopperKeyinsideit.

IspentthenextfewmonthsstudyingthemoduleandmemorizingallClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd66

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:67

ofitsmapsandroomdescriptions,inanticipationofthedayIwouldfi-

nallyfigureoutwhereitwaslocated.Butthatwastherub:TheLimerickdidn’tappeartogiveanyhintastowhereHallidayhadhiddenthedamnthing.Theonlyclueseemedtobe“youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.”

IrecitedthosewordsoverandoverinmyheaduntilIwantedtohowlinfrustration.Muchtolearn.Yeah,OK,fine.Ihavemuchtolearnaboutwhat?

TherewereliterallythousandsofworldsintheOASIS,andHallidaycouldhavehiddenhisre-creationoftheTombofHorrorsonanyoneofthem.Searchingeveryplanet,onebyone,wouldtakeforever.EvenifI’dhadthemeanstodoso.

AplanetnamedGygaxinSectorTwoseemedliketheobviousplacetostartlooking.Hallidayhadcodedtheplanethimself,andhe’dnameditafterGaryGygax,oneofthecreatorsofDungeons&DragonsandtheauthoroftheoriginalTombofHorrorsmodule.AccordingtoGunterpedia(agunterwiki),theplanetGygaxwascoveredwithre-creationsofoldD&D

modules,butTombofHorrorswasnotoneofthem.Theredidn’tappeartobeare-creationofthetombonanyoftheotherD&D-themedworldsintheOASISeither.Guntershadturnedallofthoseplanetsupsidedownandscouredeverysquareinchoftheirsurfaces.Hadare-creationoftheTombofHorrorsbeenhiddenononeofthem,itwouldhavebeenfoundandloggedlongago.

Sothetombhadtobehiddensomewhereelse.AndIdidn’thavethefirstcluewhere.ButItoldmyselfthatifIjustkeptatitandcontinueddoingresearch,I’deventuallylearnwhatIneededtoknowtofigureoutthetomb’shidingplace.Infact,thatwasprobablywhatHallidaymeantby“youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.”

IfanyotherguntersouttheresharedmyinterpretationoftheLimerick,sofarthey’dbeensmartenoughtokeepquietaboutit.I’dneverseenanypostsabouttheTombofHorrorsonanyguntermessageboards.Irealized,ofcourse,thatthismightbebecausemytheoryabouttheoldD&D

modulewascompletelylameandtotallyoffbase.

SoI’dcontinuedtowatchandreadandlistenandstudy,preparingforthedaywhenIfinallystumbledacrossthecluethatwouldleadmetotheCopperKey.

Andthenitfinallyhappened.RightwhileIwassittingtheredaydream-inginLatinclass.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd67

5/24/112:05PM

Ourteacher,Ms.Rank,wasstandingatthefrontoftheclass,slowlyconjugatingLatinverbs.ShesaidtheminEnglishfirst,theninLatin,andeachwordautomaticallyappearedontheboardbehindherasshespokeit.Wheneverweweredoingtediousverbconjugation,IalwaysgotthelyricstoanoldSchoolhouseRock!songstuckinmyhead:“Torun,togo,toget,togive.Verb!You’rewhat’shappenin’!”

IwasquietlyhummingthistunetomyselfwhenMs.RankbegantoconjugatetheLatinfortheverb“tolearn.”“ToLearn.Discere,”shesaid.

“Now,thisoneshouldbeeasytoremember,becauseit’ssimilartotheEnglishword‘discern,’whichalsomeans‘tolearn.’”

Hearingherrepeatthephrase“tolearn”wasenoughtomakemethinkoftheLimerick.Youhavemuchtolearnifyouhopetoearnaplaceamongthehighscorers.

Ms.Rankcontinued,usingtheverbinasentence.“Wegotoschooltolearn,”shesaid.“Petimusscholamutlitterasdiscamus.”

Andthatwaswhenithitme.Likeananvilfallingoutofthesky,directlyontomyskull.Igazedaroundatmyclassmates.Whatgroupofpeoplehas“muchtolearn”?

Students.High-schoolstudents.

Iwasonaplanetfilledwithstudents,allofwhomhad“muchtolearn.”

WhatiftheLimerickwassayingthatthetombwashiddenrighthere,onLudus?TheveryplanetwhereI’dbeentwiddlingmythumbsforthepastfiveyears?

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd68

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:69

ThenIrememberedthatluduswasalsoaLatinword,meaning“school.”

IpulledupmyLatindictionarytodouble-checkthedefinition,andthatwaswhenIdiscoveredthewordhadmorethanonemeaning.Luduscouldmean“school,”butitcouldalsomean“sport”or“game.”

Ifelloutofmyfoldingchairandlandedwithathudonthefloorofmyhideout.MyOASISconsoletrackedthismovementandattemptedtomakemyavatardroptothefloorofmyLatinclassroom,buttheclassroomconductsoftwarepreventeditfrommovingandawarningflashedonmydisplay:pleaseremainseatedduringclass!

Itoldmyselfnottogettooexcited.Imightbejumpingtoconclusions.

TherewerehundredsofprivateschoolsanduniversitieslocatedonotherplanetsinsidetheOASIS.TheLimerickmightrefertooneofthem.ButIdidn’tthinkso.Ludusmademoresense.JamesHallidayhaddonatedbillionstofundthecreationoftheOASISpublicschoolsystemhere,asawaytodemonstratethehugepotentialoftheOASISasaneducationaltool.

Andpriortohisdeath,HallidayhadsetupafoundationtoensurethattheOASISpublicschoolsystemwouldalwayshavethemoneyitneededtooperate.TheHallidayLearningFoundationalsoprovidedimpoverishedchildrenaroundtheglobewithfreeOASIShardwareandInternetaccesssothattheycouldattendschoolinsidetheOASIS.

GSS’sownprogrammershaddesignedandconstructedLudusandalloftheschoolsonit.SoitwasentirelypossiblethatHallidaywastheonewho’dgiventheplanetitsname.Andhewouldalsohavehadaccesstotheplanet’ssourcecode,ifhe’dwantedtohidesomethinghere.

Therealizationscontinuedtodetonateinmybrainlikeatomicbombsgoingoff,oneafteranother.

AccordingtotheoriginalD&Dmodule,theentrancetotheTombofHorrorswashiddennear“alow,flat-toppedhill,abouttwohundredyardswideandthreehundredyardslong.”Thetopofthehillwascoveredwithlargeblackstonesthatwerearrangedinsuchawaythat,ifyouviewedthemfromagreatheight,theyresembledtheeyesockets,noseholes,andteethofahumanskull.

ButiftherewasahilllikethathiddensomewhereonLudus,wouldn’tsomeonehavestumbledacrossitbynow?

Maybenot.Ludushadhundredsoflargeforestsscatteredalloveritssurface,inthevastsectionsofemptylandthatstoodbetweenthethou-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd69

5/24/112:05PM

70:ErnestCline

sandsofschoolcampuses.Someoftheseforestswereenormous,coveringdozensofsquaremiles.Moststudentsneverevensetfootinsidethem,becausetherewasnothingofinteresttodoorseethere.Likeitsfieldsandriversandlakes,Ludus’sforestswerejustcomputer-generatedlandscap-ing,placedtheretofilluptheemptyspace.

Ofcourse,duringmyavatar’slongstayonLudus,I’dexploredafewoftheforestswithinwalkingdistanceofmyschool,outofboredom.Butalltheycontainedwerethousandsofrandomlygeneratedtreesandtheoccasionalbird,rabbit,orsquirrel.(Thesetinycreaturesweren’tworthanyexperiencepointsifyoukilledthem.I’dchecked.)Soitwasentirelypossiblethatsomewhere,hiddeninoneofLudus’slarge,unexploredpatchesofforestland,therewasasmallstone-coveredhillthatresembledahumanskull.

ItriedpullingupamapofLudusonmydisplay,butIcouldn’t.Thesystemwouldn’tletme,becauseclasswasstillinsession.ThehackIusedtoaccessbooksintheschool’sonlinelibrarydidn’tworkfortheOASIS

atlassoftware.

“Shit!”Iblurtedoutinfrustration.Theclassroomconductsoftwarefilteredthisout,soneitherMs.Ranknormyclassmatesheardit.Butanotherwarningflashedonmydisplay:profanitymuted—misconductwarning!

Ilookedatthetimeonmydisplay.Exactlyseventeenminutesandtwentysecondsleftuntiltheendoftheschoolday.Isattherewithclenchedteethandcountedoffeachsecond,mymindstillracing.

LuduswasaninconspicuousworldinSectorOne.Therewasn’tsupposedtobeanythingbutschoolshere,sothiswasthelastplaceagunterwouldthinktolookfortheCopperKey.ItwasdefinitelythelastplaceIhadeverthoughttolook,andthataloneproveditwasaperfecthidingplace.ButwhywouldHallidayhavechosentohidetheCopperKeyhere?

Unless...

He’dwantedaschoolkidtofindit.

Iwasstillreelingfromtheimplicationsofthatthoughtwhenthebellfinallyrang.Aroundme,theotherstudentsbegantofileoutoftheroomorvanishintheirseats.Ms.Rank’savataralsodisappeared,andinmomentsIwasallaloneintheclassroom.

IpulledupamapofLudusonmydisplay.Itappearedasathree-dimensionalglobefloatinginfrontofme,andIgaveitaspinwithmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd70

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:71

hand.LuduswasarelativelysmallplanetbyOASISstandards,aboutathirdthe

sizeofEarth’smoon,withacircumferenceofexactlyonethousandkilometers.Asinglecontiguouscontinentcoveredthesurface.Therewerenooceans,justafewdozenlargelakesplacedhereandthere.SinceOASISplanetsweren’treal,theydidn’thavetoobeythelawsofnature.

OnLudus,itwasperpetuallydaytime,regardlessofwhereyoustoodonthesurface,andtheskywasalwaysaperfectcloudlessblue.Thestation-arysunthathungoverheardwasnothingbutavirtuallightsource,programmedintotheimaginarysky.

Onthemap,theschoolcampusesappearedasthousandsofidenticalnumberedrectanglesdottingtheplanet’ssurface.Theywereseparatedbyrollinggreenfields,rivers,mountainranges,andforests.Theforestswereofallshapesandsizes,andmanyofthemborderedoneoftheschools.

Nexttothemap,IpulleduptheTombofHorrorsmodule.Nearthefront,itcontainedacrudeillustrationofthehillconcealingthetomb.Itookascreenshotofthisillustrationandplaceditinthecornerofmydisplay.

IfranticallysearchedmyfavoritewarezsitesuntilIfoundahigh-endimage-recognitionplug-infortheOASISatlas.OnceIdownloadedthesoftwareviaGuntorrent,ittookmeafewmoreminutestofigureouthowtomakeitscantheentiresurfaceofLudusforahillwithlargeblackstonesarrangedinaskull-likepattern.Onewithasize,shape,andappearancethatmatchedtheillustrationfromtheTombofHorrorsmodule.

Afterabouttenminutesofsearching,thesoftwarehighlightedapossiblematch.

IheldmybreathasIplacedtheclose-upimagefromtheLudusmapbesidetheillustrationfromtheD&Dmodule.Theshapeofthehillandtheskullpatternofthestonesbothmatchedtheillustrationperfectly.

Idecreasedthemagnificationonthemapabit,thenpulledbackfarenoughtoconfirmthatthenorthernedgeofthehillendedinacliffofsandandcrumblinggravel.JustlikeintheoriginalDungeons&Dragonsmodule.

Iletoutatriumphantyellthatechoedintheemptyclassroomandbouncedoffthewallsofmytinyhideout.I’ddoneit.I’dactuallyfoundtheTombofHorrors!

WhenIfinallymanagedtocalmdown,Ididsomequickcalculations.

Thehillwasnearthecenterofalargeamoeba-shapedforestlocatedontheoppositesideofLudus,overfourhundredkilometersfrommyschool.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd71

5/24/112:05PM

72:ErnestCline

Myavatarcouldrunatamaximumspeedoffivekilometersanhour,soitwouldtakemeoverthreedaystogetthereonfootifIrannonstoptheentiretime.IfIcouldteleport,Icouldbetherewithinminutes.Thefarewouldn’tbemuchforsuchashortdistance,maybeafewhundredcredits.

Unfortunately,thatwasstillmorethanmycurrentOASISaccountbalance,whichwasabigfatzero.

Iconsideredmyoptions.Aechwouldlendmethemoneyforthefare,butIdidn’twanttoaskforhishelp.IfIcouldn’treachthetombonmyown,Ididn’tdeservetoreachitatall.Besides,I’dhavetolietoAechaboutwhatthemoneywasfor,andsinceI’dneveraskedhimforaloanbefore,anyexcuseIgavewouldmakehimsuspicious.

ThinkingaboutAech,Icouldn’thelpbutsmile.Hewasreallygoingtofreakwhenhefoundoutaboutthis.Thetombwashiddenlessthansev-entykilometersfromhisschool!Practicallyhisbackyard.

Thatthoughttriggeredanidea,onethatmademeleaptomyfeet.Iranoutoftheclassroomanddownthehall.

NotonlyhadIfiguredoutawaytoteleporttotheothersideofLudus,Iknewhowtogetmyschooltopayforit.

EachOASISpublicschoolhadabunchofdifferentathleticteams,includingwrestling,soccer,football,baseball,volleyball,andafewothersportsthatcouldn’tbeplayedintherealworld,likeQuidditchandzero-gravityCapturetheFlag.Studentswentoutfortheseteamsjustliketheydidatschoolsintherealworld,andtheyplayedusingelaboratesports-capablehapticrigsthatrequired

themtoactuallydoalloftheirownrunning,jumping,kicking,tackling,andsoon.Theteamshadnightlypractice,heldpeprallies,andtraveledtootherschoolsonLudustocompeteagainstthem.Ourschoolgaveoutfreeteleportationvoucherstoanystudentwhowantedtoattendanawaygame,sowecouldsitupinthestandsandrootforoldOPS#1873.I’donlytakenadvantageofthisonce,whenourCapturetheFlagteamhadplayedagainstAech’sschoolintheOPSchampionships.

WhenIarrivedintheschooloffice,IscannedtheactivitiesscheduleandfoundwhatIwaslookingforrightaway.Thatevening,ourfootballteamwasplayinganawaygameagainstOPS#0571,whichwaslocatedroughlyanhour’srunfromtheforestwherethetombwashidden.

Ireachedoutandselectedthegame,andateleportationvoucherinstantlyappearedinmyavatar’sinventory,goodforonefreeround-triptoOPS#0571.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd72

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:73

Istoppedatmylockerlongenoughtodropoffmytextbooksandgrabmyflashlight,sword,shield,andarmor.ThenIsprintedoutthefrontentranceandacrosstheexpansivegreenlawninfrontoftheschool.

WhenIreachedtheredborderlinethatmarkedtheedgeoftheschoolgrounds,Iglancedaroundtomakesurenoonewaswatchingme,thensteppedacrosstheline.AsIdid,thewade3nametagfloatingabovemyheadchangedtoreadparzival.NowthatIwasoffschoolgrounds,Icouldusemyavatarnameonceagain.Icouldalsoturnoffmynametagcompletely,whichwaswhatIdidnow,becauseIwantedtotravelincognito.

Thenearesttransportterminalwasashortwalkfromtheschool,attheendofacobblestonepath.Itwasalargedomedpavilionsupportedbyadozenivorypillars.EachpillarboreanOASISteleportationicon,acapital“T”inthecenterofabluehexagon.Schoolhadonlybeenoutforafewminutesnow,sotherewasasteadystreamofavatarsfilingintotheterminal.Insidewerelongrowsofblue

teleportationbooths.TheirshapeandcoloralwaysremindedmeofDoctorWho’sTARDIS.IsteppedintothefirstemptyboothIsaw,andthedoorsclosedautomatically.Ididn’tneedtoentermydestinationonthetouchscreenbecauseitwasalreadyencodedonmyvoucher.IjustslidthevoucherintoaslotandaworldmapofLudusappearedonthescreen,showingalinefrommypresentlocationtomydestination,aflashinggreendotnexttoOPS#0571.TheboothinstantlycalculatedthedistanceIwouldbetraveling(462kilometers)andtheamountmyschoolwouldbeinvoicedforthefare(103credits).Thevoucherwasverified,thefareshowedaspaid,andmyavatarvanished.

Iinstantlyreappearedinanidenticalbooth,insideanidenticaltransportterminalontheoppositesideoftheplanet.AsIranoutside,IspottedOPS#0571offtothesouth.Itlookedexactlylikemyownschool,exceptthesurroundinglandscapewasdifferent.Ispottedsomestudentsfrommyschool,walkingtowardthenearbyfootballstadium,ontheirwaytowatchthegameandrootforourteam.Iwasn’tsurewhytheybothered.

Theycouldjustaseasilyhavewatchedthegameviavidfeed.AndanyemptyseatsinthestandswouldbefilledwithrandomlygeneratedNPC

fanswhowouldwolfdownvirtualsodasandhotdogswhilecheeringwildly.Occasionally,theywouldevendo“thewave.”

Iwasalreadyrunningintheoppositedirection,acrossarollinggreenfieldthatstretchedoutbehindtheschool.Asmallmountainrangeloomedinthedistance,andIcouldseetheamoeba-shapedforestatitsbase.

Iturnedonmyavatar’sautorunfeature,thenopenedmyinventoryandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd73

5/24/112:05PM

74:ErnestCline

selectedthreeoftheitemslistedthere.Myarmorappearedonmybody,myshieldappearedinaslingonmyback,andmyswordappearedinitsscabbard,hangingatmyside.

Iwasalmosttotheedgeoftheforestwhenmyphonerang.TheIDsaiditwasAech.ProbablycallingtoseewhyIhadn’tloggedintotheBasementyet.ButifIansweredthecall,hewouldseealivevideofeedofmyavatar,runningacrossafieldattopspeed,withOPS#0571shrinkinginthedistancebehindme.Icouldconcealmycurrentlocationbytakingthecallasaudioonly,butthatmightmakehimsuspicious.SoIletthecallrolltomyvidmail.Aech’sfaceappearedinasmallwindowonmydisplay.HewascallingfromaPvParenasomewhere.Dozensofavatarswerelockedinfiercecombatonamultitieredplayingfieldbehindhim.

“Yo,Z!Whatareyouupto?JerkingofftoLadyhawke?”HeflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Givemeashout.I’mstillplanningtopopsomecornandhaveaSpacedmarathon.Youdown?”Hehungupandhisimagewinkedout.

Isentatext-onlyreply,sayingIhadatonofhomeworkandcouldn’thangtonight.ThenIpulleduptheTombofHorrorsmoduleandbegantoreadthroughitagain,pagebypage.Ididthisslowlyandcarefully,becauseIwasprettysureitcontainedadetaileddescriptionofeverythingIwasabouttoface.

“Inthefarreachesoftheworld,underalostandlonelyhill,”readthemodule’sintroduction,“liesthesinistertombofhorrors.Thislabyrin-thinecryptisfilledwithterribletraps,strangeandferociousmonsters,richandmagicaltreasures,andsomewherewithinreststheevilDemi-Lich.”

Thatlastbitworriedme.Alichwasanundeadcreature,usuallyanincrediblypowerfulwizardorkingwhohademployeddarkmagictobindhisintellecttohisownreanimatedcorpse,thusachievingapervertedformofimmortality.I’dencounteredlichesincountlessvideogamesandfantasynovels.Theyweretobeavoidedatallcosts.

Istudiedthemapofthetombandthedescriptionsofitsmanyrooms.

Thetomb’sentrancewasburiedinthesideofacrumblingcliff.Atunnelleddownintoalabyrinthofthirty-threeroomsandchambers,eachfilledwithavarietyofviciousmonsters,deadlytraps,and(mostlycursed)treasure.Ifyousomehowmanagedtosurviveallofthetrapsandfindyourwaythroughthelabyrinth,youwouldeventuallyreachthecryptofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd74

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:75

AcereraktheDemi-Lich.Theroomwaslitteredwithtreasure,butifyoutouchedit,theundeadKingAcererakappearedandopenedupacanofundeadwhup-assonyou.If,bysomemiracle,youmanagedtodefeatthelich,youcouldtakehistreasureandleavethedungeon.Missionaccomplished,questcompleted.

IfHallidayhadre-createdtheTombofHorrorsjustasitwasdescribedinthemodule,Iwasinbigtrouble.Myavatarwasathird-levelwimp,withnonmagicalweaponsandtwenty-sevenmeaslyhitpoints.Nearlyallofthetrapsandmonstersdescribedinthemodulecouldkillmeeasily.AndifIsomehowmanagedtomakeitpastallofthemandreachthecrypt,theultrapowerfullichcouldkillmyavatarinseconds,justbylookingathim.

ButIhadafewthingsgoingforme.First,Ireallydidn’thavemuchtolose.Ifmyavatarwaskilled,Iwouldlosemysword,shield,andleatherarmor,andthethreelevelsI’dmanagedtogainoverthepastfewyears.I’dhavetocreateanewfirst-levelavatar,whichwouldspawnatmylastlog-inlocation,infrontofmyschoollocker.ButthenIcouldjustreturntothetombandtryagain.Andagainandagain,everynight,collectingXPsandincreasinginlevelsuntilIfinallyfiguredoutwheretheCopperKeywashidden.(Therewasnosuchthingasabackupavatar.OASISuserscouldhaveonlyoneavataratatime.Itwaspossibleforhackerstousemoddedvisorstospooftheirretinalpatternsandthuscreateasecondaccountforthemselves.Butifyougotcaught,you’dbebannedfromtheOASISforlife,andyou’dalsobedisqualifiedfromparticipatinginHalliday’scontest.Nogunterwouldevertakethatrisk.)

Myotheradvantage(Ihoped)wasthatIknewexactlywhattoexpectonceIenteredthetomb,becausethemoduleprovidedmewithadetailedmapoftheentirelabyrinth.Italsotoldmewhereallthetrapswerelocated,andhowtodisarmoravoidthem.Ialsoknewwhichroomscontainedmonsters,andwherealloftheweaponsandtreasurewerehidden.Unless,ofcourse,Hallidayhadchangedthingsaround.ThenIwasscrewed.Butatthemoment,Iwasfartooexcitedtobeworried.Afterall,I’djustmadethebiggest,mostimportantdiscoveryofmylife.IwasjustafewminutesawayfromthehidingplaceoftheCopperKey!

Ifinallyreachedtheedgeoftheforestandraninside.Itwasfilledwiththousandsofperfectlyrenderedmaples,oaks,spruces,andtama-racks.ThetreeslookedasthoughtheyhadbeengeneratedandplacedusingstandardOASISlandscapetemplates,butthedetailputintothemClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd75

5/24/112:05PM

76:ErnestCline

wasstunning.Istoppedtoexamineoneofthetreescloselyandsawantscrawlingalongtheintricateridgesinitsbark.ItookthisasasignIwasontherighttrack.

Therewasnopaththroughtheforest,soIkeptthemapinthecornerofmydisplayandfollowedittotheskull-toppedhillthatmarkedthetombentrance.Itwasrightwherethemapsaiditwouldbe,inalargegladeatthecenteroftheforest.AsIsteppedintotheclearing,myheartfeltlikeitwastryingtobeatitswayoutofmyribcage.

Iclimbedupontothelowhilltop,anditwaslikesteppingintotheillustrationfromtheD&Dmodule.Hallidayhadreproducedeverythingexactly.Twelvemassiveblackstoneswerearrangedonthehilltopinthesamepattern,resemblingthefeaturesofahumanskull.

IwalkedtothenorthernedgeofthehilltopanddescendedthecrumblingclifffaceIfoundthere.Byconsultingthemodulemap,Iwasabletolocatetheexactspotinthecliffwheretheentrancetothetombwassupposedtobeburied.Then,usingmyshieldasashovel,Ibegantodig.

Withinafewminutes,Iuncoveredthemouthofatunnelthatledintoadarkundergroundcorridor.Thefloorofthecorridorwasamosaicofcolorfulstones,withawindingpathofredtilessetintoit.Onceagain,justlikeintheD&Dmodule.

ImovedtheTombofHorrorsdungeonmaptothetoprightcornerofmydisplayandmadeitslightlytransparent.ThenIstrappedmyshieldtomybackandtookoutmyflashlight.Iglancedaroundoncemoretomakesurenoonewas

watchingme;then,clutchingmyswordinmyotherhand,IenteredtheTombofHorrors.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd76

5/24/112:05PM

Thewallsofthecorridorleadingintothetombwerecoveredwithdozensofstrangepaintingsdepictingenslavedhumans,orcs,elves,andothercreatures.EachfrescoappearedintheexactlocationdescribedintheoriginalD&Dmodule.Iknewthathiddeninthetiledstonesurfaceofthefloorwereseveralspring-loadedtrapdoors.Ifyousteppedonone,itsnappedopenanddroppedyouintoapitfilledwithpoisonedironspikes.

Butbecausethelocationofeachhiddentrapdoorwasclearlymarkedonmymap,Iwasabletoavoidallofthem.

Sofar,everythinghadfollowedtheoriginalmoduletotheletter.Ifthesamewastruefortherestofthetomb,ImightbeabletosurvivelongenoughtolocatetheCopperKey.Therewereonlyafewmonsterslurkinginthisdungeon—agargoyle,askeleton,azombie,someasps,amummy,andtheevildemi-lichAcererakhimself.Sincethemaptoldmewhereeachofthemwashiding,Ishouldbeabletoavoidfightingthem.Unless,ofcourse,oneofthemwasguardingtheCopperKey.AndIcouldalreadyguesswhoprobablyhadthathonor.

Itriedtoproceedcarefully,asifIhadnoideawhattoexpect.

AvoidingtheSphereofAnnihilationlocatedattheendofthecorridor,Ilocatedahiddendoorbesidethelastpittrap.Itopenedintoasmallslopingpassageway.Myflashlightreachedintothedarknessahead,flickeringoffthedampstonewalls.MysurroundingsmademefeellikeIwasinalow-budgetsword-and-sorceryflick,likeHawktheSlayerorTheBeastmaster.

Ibegantomakemywaythroughthedungeon,roombyroom.EvenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd77

5/24/112:05PM

78:ErnestCline

thoughIknewwhereallofthetrapswerelocated,Istillhadtoproceedcarefullytoavoidthemall.Inadark,forbiddingchamberknownastheChapelofEvil,Ifoundthousandsofgoldandsilvercoinshiddeninthepews,rightwheretheyweresupposedtobe.Itwasmoremoneythanmyavatarcouldcarry,evenwiththeBagofHoldingthatIfound.IgatheredupasmanyofthegoldcoinsasIcouldandtheyappearedinmyinventory.

Thecurrencywasautomaticallyconvertedandmycreditcounterjumpedtoovertwentythousand,byfarthelargestamountofmoneyI’deverhad.

Andinadditiontothecredits,myavatarreceivedanequalnumberofexperiencepointsforobtainingthecoins.

AsIcontinueddeeperintothetomb,Iobtainedseveralmagicitemsalongtheway.A+1FlamingSword.AGemofSeeing.A+1RingofProtection.Ievenfoundasuitof+3FullPlatearmor.Thesewerethefirstmagicitemsmyavatarhadeverpossessed,andtheymademefeelunstoppable.

WhenIputonthesuitofmagicalarmor,itshranktofitmyavatarperfectly.Itsgleamingchromeappearanceremindedmeofthebad-assarmorwornbytheknightsinExcalibur.Iactuallyswitchedtoathird-personviewforafewseconds,justtoadmirehowcoolmyavatarlookedwearingit.

ThefartherIwent,themoreconfidentIbecame.Thetomb’slayoutandcontentscontinuedtomatchthemoduledescriptionexactly,downtothelastdetail.Thatis,untilIreachedthePillaredThroneRoom.

Itwasalargesquarechamberwithahighceiling,filledwithdozensofmassivestonecolumns.Ahugeraiseddaisstoodatthefarendoftheroom,atopwhichrestedanobsidianthroneinlaidwithsilverandivoryskulls.

Allthismatchedthemoduledescriptionexactly,withonehugedifference.Thethronewassupposedtobeempty,butitwasn’t.Thedemi-lichAcererakwassittingonit,glaringdownatmesilently.Adustygoldcrownglintedonhis

witheredhead.HeappearedexactlyashedidonthecoveroftheoriginalTombofHorrorsmodule.Butaccordingtoitstext,Acererakwasn’tsupposedtobehere.Hewassupposedtobewaitinginaburialchambermuchdeeperinthedungeon.

Iconsideredrunningbutdecidedagainstit.IfHallidayhadplacedthelichinthisroom,perhapshe’dplacedtheCopperKeyheretoo.Ihadtofindout.

Iwalkedacrossthechambertothefootofthedais.FromhereIcouldClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd78

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:79

seethelichmoreclearly.Histeethweretworowsofpointedcutdiamondsarrayedinaliplessgrin,andalargerubywassetineachofhiseyesockets.

Forthefirsttimesinceenteringthetomb,Iwasn’tsurewhattodonext.

Mychancesofsurvivingone-on-onecombatwithademi-lichwerenonexistent.Mywimpy+1FlamingSwordcouldn’tevenaffecthim,andthetwomagicrubiesinhiseyesocketshadthepowertosuckoutmyavatar’slifeforceandkillmeinstantly.Evenapartyofsixorsevenhigh-levelavatarswouldhavehadadifficulttimedefeatinghim.

Isilentlywished(notforthelasttime)thattheOASISwaslikeanoldadventuregameandthatIcouldsavemyplace.Butitwasn’t,andIcouldn’t.Ifmyavatardiedhere,itwouldmeanstartingoverwithnothing.Buttherewasnopointinhesitatingnow.Ifthelichkilledme,Iwouldcomebacktomorrownightandtryagain.TheentiretombshouldresetwhentheOASISserverclockstruckmidnight.Ifitdid,allofthehiddentrapsI’ddisarmedwouldresetthemselves,andthetreasureandmagicitemswouldreappear.

ItappedtheRecordiconattheedgeofmydisplaysothatwhateverhappenednextwouldbestoredinavidcapfileIcouldplaybackandstudylater.ButwhenItappedtheicon,Igotarecordingnotallowedmessage.ItseemedthatHallidayhaddisabledrecordinginsidethetomb.

Itookadeepbreath,raisedmysword,andplacedmyrightfootonthebottomstepofthedais.AsIdid,therewasasoundlikecrackingbonesasAcererakslowlyliftedhishead.Therubiesinhiseyesocketsbegantoglowwithanintenseredlight.Itookseveralstepsbackward,expectinghimtoleapdownandattackme.Buthedidn’trisefromhisthrone.Instead,heloweredhisheadandfixedmewithhischillinggaze.“Greetings,Parzival,”hesaidinaraspingvoice.“Whatisitthatyouseek?”

Thiscaughtmeoffguard.Accordingtothemodule,thelichwouldn’tspeak.Hewasjustsupposedtoattack,leavingmewithnochoicebuttokillhimorrunformylife.

“IseektheCopperKey,”Ireplied.ThenIrememberedIwasspeakingtoaking,soIquicklybowedmyhead,droppedtooneknee,andadded,

“YourMajesty.”

“Ofcourseyoudo,”Acereraksaid,motioningformetorise.“Andyou’vecometotherightplace.”Hestood,andhismummifiedskincrackedlikeoldleatherashemoved.Iclutchedmyswordmoretightly,stillanticipatinganattack.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd79

5/24/112:05PM

80:ErnestCline

“HowcanIknowthatyouareworthyofpossessingtheCopperKey?”

heasked.

Holyshit!HowthehellwasIsupposedtoanswerthat?AndwhatifIgavethewronganswer?Wouldhesuckoutmysoulandincinerateme?

Irackedmybrainforasuitablereply.ThebestIcouldcomeupwithwas,“Allowmetoprovemyworth,nobleAcererak.”

Thelichletoutalong,disturbingcacklethatechoedoffthechamber’sstone

walls.“Verywell!”hesaid.“Youshallproveyourworthbyfacingmeinajoust!”

I’dneverheardofanundeadlichkingchallengingsomeonetoajoust.

Especiallynotinasubterraneanburialchamber.“Allright,”Isaiduncertainly.“Butwon’twebeneedinghorsesforthat?”

“Nothorses,”hereplied,steppingawayfromhisthrone.“Birds.”

Hewavedaskeletalhandathisthrone.Therewasabriefflashoflight,accompaniedbyatransformationsoundeffect(whichIwasprettysurehadbeenliftedfromtheoldSuperFriendscartoon).Thethronemeltedandmorphedintoanoldcoin-operatedvideogamecabinet.Twojoysticksprotrudedfromitscontrolpanel,oneyellowandoneblue.Icouldn’thelpbutgrinasIreadthenameonthegame’sbacklitmarquee:joust.WilliamsElectronics,1982.

“Besttwooutofthreegames,”Acererakrasped.“Ifyouwin,Ishallgrantyouwhatyouseek.”

“Whatifyouwin?”Iasked,alreadyknowingtheanswer.

“IfIamvictorious,”thelichsaid,therubiesinhiseyesocketsblazingevenbrighter,“thenyoushalldie!”Aballofswirlingorangeflameappearedinhisrighthand.Heraiseditthreateningly.

“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Thatwasmyfirstguess.Justwantedtodouble-check.”

ThefireballinAcererak’shandvanished.Hestretchedouthisleatherypalm,whichnowheldtwoshinyquarters.“Thegamesareonme,”hesaid.HesteppeduptotheJoustmachineanddroppedbothquartersintotheleftcoinslot.Thegameemittedtwolowelectronicchimesandthecreditcounterjumpedfromzerototwo.

Acereraktookholdoftheyellowjoystickontheleftsideofthecontrolpanelandclosedhisbonyfingersaroundit.“Artthouready?”hecroaked.

“Yeah,”Isaid,takingadeepbreath.IcrackedmyknucklesandgrabbedthePlayerTwojoystickwithmylefthand,poisingmyrighthandovertheFlapbutton.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd80

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:81

Acererakrockedhisheadfromlefttoright,crackinghisneck.Itsoundedlikeasnappingtreebranch.ThenheslappedtheTwoPlayerbuttonandthejoustbegan.

Joustwasaclassic’80sarcadegamewithastrangepremise.Eachplayercontrolsaknightarmedwithalance.PlayerOneismountedonanostrich,whilePlayerTwoismountedonastork.Youflapyourwingstoflyaroundthescreenand“joust”withtheotherplayer,andalsoagainstseveralcomputer-controlledenemyknights(whoareallmountedonbuzzards).

Whenyoucrashintoanopponent,whoever’slanceishigheronthescreenwinsthejoust.Theloseriskilledandlosesalife.Wheneveryoukilloneoftheenemyknights,hisbuzzardcrapsoutagreeneggthatquicklyhatchesintoanotherenemyknightifyoudon’tscoopitupintime.There’salsoawingedpterodactylthatappearsonceinawhiletowreakhavoc.

Ihadn’tplayedJoustinoverayear.ItwasoneofAech’sfavoritegames,andforawhilehe’dhadaJoustcabinetinhischatroom.Heusedtochallengemetoagamewheneverhewantedtosettleanargumentorsomeasininepop-culturedispute.Forafewmonths,weplayedalmosteveryday.Inthebeginning,AechwasslightlybetterthanIwas,andhehadahabitofgloatingoverhisvictories.Thishadreallyirkedme,soIstartedpracticingJoustonmyown,playingafewgamesanightagainstanAIopponent.IhonedmyskillsuntilIfinallygotgoodenoughtobeatAech,repeatedlyandconsistently.ThenIbegantogloatoverhim,savoringmyrevenge.Thelasttimewe’dplayed,I’drubbedhisnoseindefeatsomercilesslythathe’dflippedoutandvowednevertoplaymeagain.Sincethen,we’dusedStreetFighterIItosettleourdisputes.

MyJoustskillswerealotrustierthanIthought.Ispentthefirstfiveminutesjusttryingtorelaxandtoreacquaintmyselfwiththecontrolsandtherhythmofthegame.Duringthistime,Acererakmanagedtokillmetwice,mercilesslyslamminghiswingedmountintomineattheperfecttrajectory.Hehandledthe

game’scontrolswiththecalculatedperfectionofamachine.Which,ofcourse,wasexactlywhathewas—cutting-edgeNPCartificialintelligence,programmedbyHallidayhimself.

Bytheendofourfirstgame,themovesandtricksI’dpickedupduringallthosemarathonboutswithAechwerestartingtocomebacktome.ButAcererakdidn’tneedawarm-up.Hewasinperfectformfromtheoutset,andtherewasnowayIcouldmakeupformyweakshowingatthestartofthegame.HekilledoffmylastmanbeforeIevencleared30,000points.

Embarrassing.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd81

5/24/112:05PM

82:ErnestCline

“Onegamedown,Parzival,”hesaid,flashingarictusgrin.“Onemoretogo.”

Hedidn’twastetimebymakingmestandthereandwatchhimplayouttherestofhisgame.Hereachedupandfoundthepowerswitchattherearofthegamecabinet,thenflippeditoffandbackon.AfterthescreencycledthroughitschromaticWilliamsElectronicsboot-upsequence,hesnatchedtwomorequartersoutofthinairanddroppedthemintothegame.

“Artthouready?”heinquiredagain,hunchingoverthecontrolpanel.

Ihesitatedamoment,thenasked,“Actually,wouldyoumindifweswitchedsides?I’musedtoplayingontheleft.”

Itwastrue.WhenAechandIplayedintheBasement,Ialwaystooktheostrichside.Beingontherightsideduringthefirstgamehadscrewedupmyrhythmabit.

Acererakappearedtoconsidermyrequestforamoment.Thenhenodded.“Certainly,”hesaid.Hesteppedbackfromthecabinetandweswitchedsides.Itsuddenlyoccurredtomejusthowabsurdthisscenewas:aguywearingasuitof

armor,standingnexttoanundeadking,bothhunchedoverthecontrolsofaclassicarcadegame.Itwasthesortofsurrealimageyou’dexpecttoseeonthecoverofanoldissueofHeavyMetalorDragonmagazine.

AcererakslappedtheTwoPlayerbutton,andmyeyeslockedonthescreen.

Thenextgamestartedoutbadlyformetoo.Myopponent’smovementswererelentlessandprecise,andIspentthefirstfewwavesjusttryingtoevadehim.IwasalsodistractedbytheincessantclickofhisskeletalindexfingerashetappedhisFlapbutton.

Iunclenchedmyjawandclearedmymind,forcingmyselfnottothinkaboutwhereIwas,whoIwasplayingagainst,orwhatwasatstake.ItriedtoimaginethatIwasbackintheBasement,playingagainstAech.

Itworked.Islippedintothezone,andthetidebegantoturninmyfavor.Ibegantofindtheflawsinthelich’splayingstyle,theholesinhisprogramming.ThiswassomethingI’dlearnedovertheyears,masteringhundredsofdifferentvideogames.Therewasalwaysatricktobeatingacomputer-controlledopponent.Atagamelikethis,agiftedhumanplayercouldalwaystriumphoverthegame’sAI,becausesoftwarecouldn’tim-provise.Itcouldeitherreactrandomly,orinalimitednumberofprede-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd82

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:83

terminedways,basedonafinitenumberofpreprogrammedconditions.

Thiswasanaxiominvideogames,andwouldbeuntilhumansinventedtrueartificialintelligence.

Oursecondgamecamerightdowntothewire,butbytheendofit,I’dspottedapatterntothelich’splayingtechnique.Bychangingmyostrich’sdirectionatacertainmoment,Icouldgethimtoslamhisstorkintooneoftheoncomingbuzzards.Byrepeatingthismove,Iwasabletopickoffhisextralives,onebyone.Idiedseveraltimesmyselfintheprocess,butIfinallytookhimdown

duringthetenthwave,withnoextralivesofmyowntospare.

Isteppedbackfromthemachineandsighedwithrelief.Icouldfeelrivuletsofsweatrunningdownmyforeheadandaroundtheedgeofmyvisor.Iwipedatmyfacewiththesleeveofmyshirt,andmyavatarmim-ickedthismotion.

“Goodgame,”Acereraksaid.Then,tomysurprise,heofferedmehiswitheredclawofahand.Ishookit,chucklingnervouslyasIdidso.

“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Goodgame,man.”Itoccurredtomethat,inaweirdway,IwasactuallyplayingagainstHalliday.Iquicklypushedthethoughtoutofmyhead,afraidImightpsychmyselfout.

AcererakonceagainproducedtwoquartersanddroppedthemintotheJoustmachine.“Thisoneisforallthemarbles,”hesaid.“Artthouready?”

Inodded.Thistime,ItookthelibertyofslappingtheTwoPlayerbuttonmyself.

Ourfinaltie-breakinggamelastedlongerthanthefirsttwocombined.

Duringthefinalwave,somanybuzzardsfilledthescreenthatitwashardtomovewithoutgettingdustedbyoneofthem.ThelichandIfacedoffonefinaltime,attheverytopoftheplayingfield,bothofusincessantlyhittingourFlapbuttonswhileslammingourjoysticksleftandright.

Acererakmadeafinal,desperatemovetoavoidmychargeanddroppedamicrometertoolow.Hisfinalmountdiedinatinypixelatedexplosion.

playertwogameoverappearedonthescreen,andthelichletoutalongbloodcurdlinghowlofrage.HesmashedanangryfistintothesideoftheJoustcabinet,shatteringitintoamilliontinypixelsthatscatteredandbouncedacrossthefloor.Thenheturnedtofaceme.“Congratulations,Parzival,”hesaid,bowinglow.“Youplayedwell.”

“Thankyou,nobleAcererak,”Ireplied,resistingtheurgetojumpupanddownandshakemyassvictoriouslyinhisgeneraldirection.Instead,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd83

5/24/112:05PM

84:ErnestCline

Isolemnlyreturnedhisbow.AsIdid,thelichtransformedintoatallhumanwizarddressedinflowingblackrobes.Irecognizedhimimmediately.ItwasHalliday’savatar,Anorak.

Istaredathim,utterlyspeechless.ForyearsguntershadspeculatedthatAnorakstillroamedtheOASIS,nowasanautonomousNPC.Halliday’sghostinthemachine.

“Now,”thewizardsaid,speakingwithHalliday’sfamiliarvoice.“Yourreward.”

Thechamberfilledwiththesoundofafullorchestra.Triumphanthornswerequicklyjoinedbyastirringstringsection.Irecognizedthemusic.ItwasthelasttrackfromJohnWilliams’soriginalStarWarsscore,usedinthescenewherePrincessLeiagivesLukeandHantheirmedals(andChewbacca,asyoumayrecall,getstheshaft).

Asthemusicbuilttoacrescendo,Anorakstretchedouthisrighthand.

There,restinginhisopenpalm,wastheCopperKey,theitemforwhichmillionsofpeoplehadbeensearchingforthepastfiveyears.Ashehandedittome,themusicfadedout,andinthesameinstant,Iheardachimesound.I’djustgainedfiftythousandexperiencepoints,enoughtoraisemyavatarallthewayuptotenthlevel.

“Farewell,SirParzival,”Anoraksaid.“Ibidyougoodluckonyourquest.”AndbeforeIcouldaskwhatIwassupposedtodonext,orwhereIcouldfindthefirstgate,hisavatarvanishedinaflashoflight,accompaniedbyateleportationsoundeffectIknewwasliftedfromtheold’80sDungeons&Dragonscartoon.

Ifoundmyselfstandingaloneontheemptydais.IlookeddownattheCopperKeyinmyhandandfeltovercomewithwonderandelation.ItlookedjustasithadinAnorak’sInvitation:asimpleantiquecopperkey,itsoval-shapedbowembossedwiththeromannumeral“I.”Iturneditoverinmyavatar’shand,watchingthetorchlightplayacrosstheromannumeral,andthatwaswhenIspottedtwosmalllinesoftextengravedintothemetal.Itiltedthekeyuptothelightandreadthemaloud:“Whatyouseeklieshiddeninthetrashonthedeepest

levelofDaggorath.”

Ididn’tevenneedtoreaditasecondtime.Iinstantlyunderstooditsmeaning.IknewexactlywhereIneededtogoandwhatIwouldhavetodoonceIgotthere.

“Hiddeninthetrash”wasareferencetotheancientTRS-80lineofcomputersmadebyTandyandRadioShackinthe’70sand’80s.Com-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd84

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:85

puterusersofthaterahadgiventheTRS-80thederogatorynicknameof

“Trash80.”

Whatyouseeklieshiddeninthetrash.

Halliday’sfirstcomputerhadbeenaTRS-80,withawhopping16KofRAM.AndIknewexactlywheretofindareplicaofthatcomputerintheOASIS.Everygunterdid.

IntheearlydaysoftheOASIS,HallidayhadcreatedasmallplanetnamedMiddletown,namedafterhishometowninOhio.Theplanetwasthesiteofameticulousre-creationofhishometownasitwasinthelate1980s.Thatsayingabouthowyoucannevergohomeagain?Hallidayhadfoundaway.Middletownwasoneofhispetprojects,andhe’dspentyearscodingandrefiningit.Anditwaswellknown(togunters,atleast)thatoneofthemostdetailedandaccuratepartsoftheMiddletownsimulationwasthere-creationofHalliday’sboyhoodhome.

I’dneverbeenabletovisitit,butI’dseenhundredsofscreenshotsandvidcapsoftheplace.InsideHalliday’sbedroomwasareplicaofhisfirstcomputer,aTRS-80ColorComputer2.Iwaspositivethatwaswherehe’dhiddentheFirstGate.AndthesecondlineoftextinscribedontheCopperKeytoldmehowtoreachit:

OnthedeepestlevelofDaggorath.

DagorathwasawordinSindarin,theElvishlanguageJ.R.R.TolkienhadcreatedforTheLordoftheRings.Theworddagorathmeant“battle,”

butTolkienhadspelledthewordwithjustone“g,”nottwo.“Daggorath”

(withtwo“g”s)couldreferonlytoonething:anincrediblyobscurecomputergamecalledDungeonsofDaggorathreleasedin1982.Thegamehadbeenmadeforjustoneplatform,theTRS-80ColorComputer.

HallidayhadwritteninAnorak’sAlmanacthatDungeonsofDaggorathwasthegamethatmadehimdecidehewantedtobecomeavideogamedesigner.

AndDungeonsofDaggorathwasoneofthegamessittingintheshoeboxnexttotheTRS-80inthere-creationofHalliday’schildhoodbedroom.

SoallIhadtodowasteleporttoMiddletown,gotoHalliday’shouse,sitdownathisTRS-80,playthegame,reachthebottomlevelofthedungeon,and...thatwaswhereI’dfindtheFirstGate.

Atleast,thatwasmyinterpretation.

MiddletownwasinSectorSeven,alongwayfromLudus.ButI’dcollectedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd85

5/24/112:05PM

86:ErnestCline

morethanenoughgoldandtreasuretopayfortheteleportationfaretogetthere.Bymyavatar’spreviousstandards,Iwasnowfilthyrich.

Icheckedthetime:11:03p.m.,OST(OASISServerTime,whichalsohappenedtobeEasternStandardTime).IhadeighthoursbeforeIhadtobeatschool.Thatmightbeenoughtime.Icouldgoforit,rightnow.

Sprintlikehell,backupthroughthedungeontothesurface,thenhightailitback

tothenearesttransportterminal.Fromthere,IcouldteleportdirectlytoMiddletown.IfIleftrightnow,IshouldbeabletoreachHalliday’sTRS-80inunderanhour.

IknewIshouldgetsomesleepfirst.I’dbeenloggedintotheOASISforalmostfifteensolidhours.AndtomorrowwasFriday.IcouldteleporttoMiddletownrightafterschoolandthenI’dhavethewholeweekendtotackletheFirstGate.

ButwhowasIkidding?TherewasnowayI’dbeabletosleeptonight,orsitthroughschooltomorrow.Ihadtogonow.

Ibegantosprintfortheexit,butthenstoppedinthemiddleofthechamber.Throughtheopendoor,Isawalongshadowbouncingonthewall,accompaniedbytheechoofapproachingfootsteps.

Afewsecondslater,thesilhouetteofanavatarappearedinthedoorway.IwasabouttoreachformyswordwhenIrealizedIwasstillholdingtheCopperKeyinmyhand.Ishoveditintoapouchonmybeltandfum-bledmyswordoutofitsscabbard.AsIraisedmyblade,theavatarspoke.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd86

5/24/112:05PM

“Whothehellareyou?”thesilhouettedemanded.Thevoicesoundedlikeitbelongedtoayoungwoman.Onewhowasitchingforafight.

WhenIfailedtoanswer,astockyfemaleavatarsteppedoutoftheshadowsandintothechamber’sflickeringtorchlight.Shehadravenhair,styledJoan-of-Arcshort,andappearedtobeinherlateteensorearlytwenties.

Asshegotcloser,IrealizedthatIknewher.We’dneveractuallymet,butIrecognizedherfacefromthedozensofscreenshotsshe’dpostedtoherblogovertheyears.

ItwasArt3mis.

Sheworeasuitofscaledgunmetal-bluearmorthatlookedmoresci-fithanfantasy.Twinblasterpistolswereslunglowonherhipsinquick-drawholsters,andtherewasalong,curvedelvishswordinascabbardacrossherback.SheworefingerlessRoadWarrior–styleracingglovesandapairofclassicRay-Banshades.Overall,sheseemedtobegoingforasortofmid-’80spostapocalypticcyberpunkgirl-next-doorlook.Anditwasworkingforme,inabigway.Inaword:hot.

Asshewalkedtowardme,theheelsofherstuddedcombatbootsclickedonthestonefloor.Shehaltedjustoutofmysword’sreachbutdidnotdrawherownblade.Instead,sheslidhershadesupontoheravatar’sforehead—ablatantaffectation,sincesunglassesdidn’tactuallyaffectaplayer’svision—andlookedmeupanddown,makingashowofsizingmeup.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd87

5/24/112:05PM

88:ErnestCline

ForamomentIwastoostar-strucktospeak.Tobreakmyparalysis,Iremindedmyselfthatthepersonoperatingtheavatarinfrontofmemightnotbeawomanatall.This“girl,”whomI’dbeencyber-crushingonforthepastthreeyears,mightverywellbeanobese,hairy-knuckledguynamedChuck.OnceI’dconjuredupthatsoberingimage,Iwasabletofocusonmysituation,andthequestionathand:Whatwasshedoinghere?

Afterfiveyearsofsearching,Ithoughtitwashighlyimprobablethatwe’dbothdiscoveredtheCopperKey’shidingplaceonthesamenight.Toobigofacoincidence.

“Catgotyourtongue?”sheasked.“Isaid:Who.Thehell.Areyou?”

Likeher,Ihadmyavatar’snametagswitchedoff.Clearly,Iwantedtoremainanonymous,especiallyunderthecircumstances.Couldn’tshetakethehint?

“Greetings,”Isaid,bowingslightly.“IamJuanSánchezVilla-LobosRamírez.”

Shesmirked.“ChiefmetallurgisttoKingCharlestheFifthofSpain?”

“Atyourservice,”Ireplied,grinning.She’dcaughtmyobscureHighlanderquoteandthrownanotherrightbackatme.ItwasArt3mis,allright.

“Cute.”Sheglancedovermyshoulder,upattheemptydais,thenbackatme.“So,spillit.Howdidyoudo?”

“Doatwhat?”

“JoustingagainstAcererak?”shesaid,asifitwereobvious.

Suddenly,Iunderstood.Thiswasn’tthefirsttimeshe’dbeenhere.Iwasn’tthefirstguntertodeciphertheLimerickandfindtheTombofHorrors.Art3mishadbeatenmetoit.AndsincesheknewabouttheJoustgame,she’dobviouslyalreadyfacedthelichherself.ButifshealreadyhadtheCopperKey,therewouldn’tbeanyreasonforhertocomebackhere.

Sosheclearlydidn’thavethekeyyet.She’dfacedthelichatJoustandhe’dbeatenher.Soshe’dcomebacktotryagain.ForallIknew,thiscouldbehereighthorninthattempt.Andsheobviouslyassumedthelichhadbeatenme,too.

“Hello?”shesaid,tappingherrightfootimpatiently.“I’mwaiting?”

Iconsideredmakingabreakforit.Justrunningrightpasther,backoutthroughthelabyrinthanduptothesurface.ButifIran,shemightsuspectthatIhadthekeyanddecidetotrytokillmetogetit.ThesurfaceofLuduswasclearlymarkedasasafezoneontheOASISmap,sonoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd88

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:89

player-versus-playercombatwasallowed.ButIhadnowayofknowingifthesamewastrueofthistomb,becauseitwasunderground,anditdidn’tevenappearontheplanetmap.

Art3mislookedlikeaformidableopponent.Bodyarmor.Blasterpistols.Andthatelvishswordshewascarryingmightbevorpal.Ifevenhalfoftheexploitsshe’dmentionedonherblogweretrue,heravatarwasprobablyatleastfiftiethlevel.Orhigher.IfPvPcombatwaspermitteddownhere,she’dkickmytenth-levelass.

SoIhadtoplaythiscool.Idecidedtolie.

“Igotcreamed,”Isaid.“Joustisn’treallymygame.”

Sherelaxedherpostureslightly.Thatseemedtobetheanswershewantedtohear.“Yeah,samehere,”shesaidinacommiseratingtone.

“HallidayprogrammedoldKingAcererakwithsomeprettywickedAI,didn’the?He’sinsanelyhardtobeat.”Sheglanceddownatmysword,whichIwasstillbrandishingdefensively.“Youcanputthataway.I’mnotgonnabiteyou.”

Ikeptmyswordraised.“IsthistombinaPvPzone?”

“Dunno.You’rethefirstavatarI’veeverrunintodownhere.”Shetiltedherheadslightlyandsmiled.“Isupposethere’sonlyonewaytofindout.”

Shedrewhersword,lightningfast,andturnedintoaclockwisespin,bringingitsglowingbladearoundanddownatme,allinasingleblurofmotion.Atthelastsecond,Imanagedtotiltmyownbladeupwardtoawkwardlyparrytheattack.Butbothofourswordshaltedinmidair,inchesapart,asifheldbackbysomeinvisibleforce.Amessageflashedonmydisplay:player-versus-playercombatnotpermittedhere!

Ibreathedasighofrelief.(Iwouldn’tlearnuntillaterthatthekeyswerenontransferable.Youcouldn’tdroponeofthem,orgivethemtoanotheravatar.Andifyouwerekilledwhileholdingone,itvanishedrightalongwithyourbody.)

“Well,thereyouhaveit,”shesaid,grinning.“Thisisano-PvPzoneafterall.”Shewhippedherswordaroundinafigure-eightpattern,thensmoothlyreplaceditinthescabbardonherback.Veryslick.

Isheathedmyownswordtoo,butwithoutanyfancymoves.“Hallidaymustnothavewantedanyonetoduelfortherighttojousttheking,”Isaid.

“Yeah,”shesaid,grinning.“Luckyforyou.”

“Luckyforme?”Ireplied,foldingmyarms.“Howdoyoufigure?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd89

5/24/112:05PM

90:ErnestCline

Shemotionedtotheemptydaisbehindme.“Youmustreallybehurt-ingforhitpointsrightnow,afterfightingAcererak.”

So...ifAcererakbeatyouatJoust,thenyouhadtofighthim.GoodthingIwon,Ithought.OrelseI’dprobablybecreatinganewavatarrightaboutnow.

“I’vegothitpointsgalore,”Ifibbed.“Thatlichwasatotalwuss.”

“Ohreally?”shesaidsuspiciously.“I’mfifty-secondlevel,andhe’snearlykilledmeeverytimeI’vehadtofighthim.IhavetostockuponextrahealingpotionseverytimeIcomedownhere.”Sheeyedmeamoment,thensaid,“Ialsorecognizeyourswordandthearmoryou’rewearing.Yougotthembothrighthereinthisdungeon,whichmeansthey’rebetterthanwhateveryouravatarhadbefore.Youlooklikealow-levelwimpazoidtome,JuanRamírez.AndIthinkyou’rehidingsomething.”

NowthatIknewshecouldn’tattackme,Iconsideredtellingherthetruth.WhynotjustwhipouttheCopperKeyandshowittoher?ButIthoughtbetterofit.ThesmartmovenowwastosplitandheadstraightforMiddletownwhileIstillhadaheadstart.Shestilldidn’thavethekeyandmightnotgetitforseveralmoredays.IfIhadn’talreadyhadsomanyhoursofJoustpracticeundermybelt,GodknowshowmanyattemptsitwouldhavetakenmetobeatAcererak.

“Thinkwhatyouwant,She-Ra,”Isaid,movingpasther.“MaybeI’llrunintoyouoff-worldsometime.Wecandukeitoutthen.”Igaveherasmallwave.“Seeya’round.”

“Wheredoyouthinkyou’regoing?”shesaid,followingme.

“Home,”Isaid,stillwalking.

“Butwhataboutthelich?AndtheCopperKey?”Shemotionedtotheemptydais.“He’llrespawninafewminutes.WhentheOASISserverclockhitsmidnight,thewholetombresets.Ifyouwaitrighthere,you’llgetanothershotatbeatinghim,withouthavingtomakeyourwaythroughallofthosetrapsagainfirst.That’swhyI’vebeencomingherejustbeforemidnight,everyotherday.SoIcangetintwoattemptsinarow,back-to-back.”

Clever.IfIhadn’tsucceededonmyfirsttry,Iwonderedhowlongitwouldhavetakenmetofigurethatout.“Ithoughtwecouldtaketurnsplayingagainsthim,”Isaid.“Ijustplayedhim,soit’llbeyourturnatmidnight,OK?ThenI’llcomebackaftermidnighttomorrow.Wecanalternatedaysuntiloneofusbeatshim.Soundfair?”

“Isuppose,”shesaid,studyingme.“Butyoushouldstickaroundany-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd90

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:91

way.Somethingdifferentmighthappeniftherearetwoavatarshereatmidnight.Anorakprobablypreparedforthatcontingency.Maybetwoinstancesofthelichwillappear,oneforeachofustoplay?Ormaybe—”

“Iprefertoplayinprivate,”Isaid.“Let’sjusttaketurns,OK?”Iwasalmosttotheexitwhenshesteppedinfrontofme,blockingmypath.

“Comeon,holdupasecond,”shesaid,hervoicesoftening.“Please?”

Icouldhavekeptwalking,rightthroughheravatar.ButIdidn’t.IwasdesperatetogettoMiddletownandlocatetheFirstGate,butIwasalsostandinginfrontofthefamousArt3mis,someoneI’dfantasizedaboutmeetingforyears.AndshewasevencoolerinpersonthanI’dimagined.Iwasdyingtospendmoretimewithher.Iwanted,asthe’80spoetHowardJoneswouldsay,togettoknowherwell.IfIleftnow,Imightneverrunintoheragain.

“Listen,”shesaid,glancingatherboots.“Iapologizeforcallingyoualow-levelwimpazoid.Thatwasnotcool.Iinsultedyou.”

“It’sOK.Youwereright,actually.I’monlytenthlevel.”

“Regardless,you’reafellowgunter.Andacleveronetoo,oryouwouldn’tbestandinghere.So,IwantyoutoknowthatIrespectyou,andacknowledgeyourskills.AndIapologizeforthetrashtalk.”

“Apologyaccepted.Noworries.”

“Cool.”Shelookedrelieved.Heravatar’sfacialexpressionswereextremelyrealistic,whichusuallymeanttheyweresynchedtothoseoftheiroperatorinsteadofcontrolledbysoftware.Shemust’vebeenusinganexpensiverig.“Iwasjustalittlefreakedtofindyouhere,”shesaid.“Imean,Iknewsomeoneelsewouldfindthisplaceeventually.Justnotthisquickly.

I’vehadthistomballtomyselfforawhilenow.”

“Howlong?”Iasked,notreallyexpectinghertosay.

Shehesitated,thenbegantoramble.“Threeweeks!”shesaid,exasper-ated.“I’vebeencominghereforthreefreakin’weeks,tryingtobeatthatstupidlichatthatasininegame!AndhisAIisridiculous!Imean,youknow.I’dneverevenplayedJoustbeforethis,andnowit’sdrivingmeoutofmygourd!IswearIwasthisclosetofinallybeatinghisassafewdaysago,butthen...”Sherakedherfingersthroughherhairinfrustration.

“Argh!Ican’tsleep.Ican’teat.Mygradesaregoingdownthetubes,becauseI’vebeenditchingtopracticeJoust—”

IwasabouttoaskifshewenttoschoolhereonLudus,butshecontinuedtotalk,fasterandfaster,asifafloodgatehadopenedinherbrain.Thewordsjustpouredoutofher.Shewasbarelypausingtobreathe.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd91

5/24/112:05PM

92:ErnestCline

“—andIcameheretonight,thinkingthiswouldbethenightIfinallybeatthatbastardandgettheCopperKey,butwhenIgothere,Isawthatsomeonehadalreadyuncoveredtheentrance.SoIrealizedmyworstfearhadfinallycometrue.Someoneelsehadfoundthetomb.SoIranallthewaydownhere,totallyfreakingout.Imean,Iwasn’ttooworried,becauseIdidn’tthinkanyonecouldpossiblybeatAcererakontheirfirsttry,butstill—”Shepausedtotakeadeepbreathandstoppedabruptly.

“Sorry,”shesaidasecondlater.“ItendtoramblewhenI’mnervous.Orexcited.AndrightnowI’msortofboth,becauseI’vebeendyingtotalktosomeoneaboutallofthis,butobviouslyIcouldn’ttellasoul,right?

Youcan’tjustmentionincasualconversationthatyou—”Shecutherselfoffagain.“Man,I’msuchamotormouth!Ajabberjaw.Aflibbertigibbet.”

Shemimedzippingherlips,lockingthem,andtossingawaytheimaginarykey.Withoutthinking,Imimedgrabbingthekeyoutoftheairandunlockingherlips.Thismadeherlaugh—anhonest,genuinelaughthatinvolvedafairamountofsnorting,whichmademelaughtoo.

Shewassocharming.HergeekydemeanorandhyperkineticspeechpatternremindedmeofJordan,myfavoritecharacterinRealGenius.I’dneverfeltsuchaninstantconnectionwithanotherperson,intherealworldorintheOASIS.NotevenwithAech.Ifeltlight-headed.

Whenshefinallygotherlaughterundercontrol,shesaid,“Ireallyneedtosetupafiltertoeditoutthatlaughofmine.”

“No,youshouldn’t,”Isaid.“It’saprettygreatlaugh,actually.”Iwaswincingateverywordcomingoutofmymouth.“Ihaveadorkylaughtoo.”

Great,Wade,Ithought.Youjustcalledherlaugh“dorky.”Realsmooth.

Butshejustgavemeashysmileandmouthedthewords“thankyou.”

Ifeltasuddenurgetokissher.Simulationornot,Ididn’tcare.Iwasworkingupthecouragetoaskforhercontactcardwhenshestuckoutherhand.

“Iforgottointroducemyself,”shesaid.“I’mArt3mis.”

“Iknow,”Isaid,shakingherhand.“I’mactuallyahugefanofyourblog.I’vebeenaloyalreaderforyears.”

“Seriously?”Heravataractuallyseemedtoblush.

Inodded.“It’sanhonortomeetyou,”Isaid.“I’mParzival.”IrealizedthatIwasstillholdingherhandandmademyselfletgo.

“Parzival,eh?”Shetiltedherheadslightly.“NamedaftertheknightoftheRoundTablewhofoundthegrail,right?Verycool.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd92

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:93

Inodded,nowevenmoresmitten.Ialmostalwayshadtoexplainmynametopeople.“AndArtemiswastheGreekgoddessofthehunt,right?”

“Right!Butthenormalspellingwasalreadytaken,soIhadtousealeetspelling,withanumberthreeinplaceofthe‘e.’”

“Iknow,”Isaid.“Youmentionedthatonceonyourblog.Twoyearsago.”IalmostcitedthedateoftheactualblogentrybeforeIrealizeditwouldmakemesoundlikeevenmoreofacyber-stalkingsuper-creep.

“Yousaidthatyoustillrunintonoobswhoprounounceit‘Art-three-miss.’”

“That’sright,”shesaid,grinningatme.“Idid.”

Shestretchedoutaracing-glovedhandandofferedmeoneofhercontactcards.Youcoulddesignyourcardtolooklikejustaboutanything.

Art3mishadcodedherstolooklikeavintageKennerStarWarsactionfigure(stillintheblisterpack).Thefigurewasacrudeplasticrenderingofheravatar,withthesameface,hair,andoutfit.Tinyversionsofhergunsandswordwere

included.Hercontactinfowasprintedonthecard,abovethefigure:

Art3mis

52ndLevelWarrior/Mage

(VehicleSoldSeparately)

Onthebackofthecardwerelinkstoherblog,e-mail,andphoneline.

Notonlywasthisthefirsttimeagirlhadevergivenmehercard,itwasalso,byfar,thecoolestcontactcardIhadeverseen.

“Thisis,byfar,thecoolestcontactcardIhaveeverseen,”Isaid.“Thankyou!”

Ihandedheroneofmyowncards,whichI’ddesignedtolooklikeanoriginalAtari2600Adventurecartridge,withmycontactinfoprintedonthelabel:

Parzival

10thLevelWarrior

(UsewithJoystickController)

“Thisisawesome!”shesaid,lookingitover.“Whatawickeddesign!”

“Thanks,”Isaid,blushingundermyvisor.Iwantedtoproposemar-riage.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd93

5/24/112:05PM

94:ErnestCline

Iaddedhercardtomyinventory,anditappearedonmyitemlist,rightbelowtheCopperKey.Seeingthekeylistedtheresnappedmebacktoreality.WhatthehellwasIdoing,standingheremakingsmalltalkwiththisgirlwhentheFirstGatewaswaitingforme?Icheckedthetime.Lessthanfiveminutesuntilmidnight.

“Listen,Art3mis,”Isaid.“Itwastrulyawesometomeetyou.ButIgottagetgoing.Theserverisabouttoreset,andIwanttoclearoutofherebeforeallofthosetrapsandundeadrespawn.”

“Oh...OK.”Sheactuallysoundeddisappointed!“IshouldprobablyprepareformyJoustmatchanyway.Buthere,letmehityouwithaCureSeriousWoundsspellbeforeyougo.”

BeforeIcouldprotest,shelaidahandonmyavatar’schestandmutteredafewarcanewords.Myhit-pointcounterwasalreadyatmaximum,sothespellhadnoeffect.ButArt3misdidn’tknowthat.ShewasstillundertheassumptionthatI’dhadtofightthelich.

“Thereyougo,”shesaid,steppingback.

“Thanks,”Isaid.“Butyoushouldn’thave.We’recompetitors,youknow.”

“Iknow.Butwecanstillbefriends,right?”

“Ihopeso.”

“Besides,theThirdGateisstillalongwayoff.Imean,ittookfiveyearsforthetwoofustogetthisfar.AndifIknowHalliday’sgame-designstrategy,thingsarejustgoingtogetharderfromhereonout.”Sheloweredhervoice.“Listen,areyousureyoudon’twanttostickaround?Ibetwecanbothplayatonce.WecangiveeachotherJoustingtips.I’vestartedtospotsomeflawsintheking’stechnique—”

NowIwasstartingtofeellikeajerkforlyingtoher.“That’sareallykindoffer.ButIhavetogo.”Isearchedforaplausibleexcuse.“I’vegotschoolinthemorning.”

Shenodded,butherexpressionshiftedbacktooneofsuspicion.Thenhereyeswidened,asthoughanideahadjustoccurredtoher.Herpupilsbegantodartaround,focusedonthespaceinfrontofher,andIrealizedshewaslookingsomethingupinabrowserwindow.Afewsecondslater,herfacecontortedinanger.

“Youlyingbastard!”sheshouted.“Youdishonestsackofcrap!”ShemadeherWebbrowserwindowvisibletomeandspunitaround.Itdisplayedthe

ScoreboardonHalliday’swebsite.Inalltheexcitement,I’dforgottentocheckit.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd94

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:95

Itlookedjustasithadforthepastfiveyears,withonechange.Myavatar’snamenowappearedattheverytopofthelist,infirstplace,withascoreof10,000pointsbesideit.TheothernineslotsstillcontainedHalliday’sinitials,JDH,followedbyzeros.

“Holyshit,”Imuttered.WhenAnorakhadhandedmetheCopperKey,I’dbecomethefirstgunterinhistorytoscorepointsinthecontest.And,Irealized,sincetheScoreboardwasviewabletotheentireworld,myavatarhadjustbecomefamous.

Icheckedthenewsfeedheadlinesjusttobesure.Everysingleoneofthemcontainedmyavatar’sname.Stufflike:mysteriousavatar“parzival”makeshistoryandparzivalfindscopperkey.

Istoodthereinadaze,forcingmyselftobreathe.ThenArt3misgavemeashove,which,ofcourse,Ididn’tfeel.Shedidknockmyavatarbackwardafewfeet,though.“Youbeathimonyourfirsttry?”sheshouted.

Inodded.“Hewonthefirstgame,butIwonthelasttwo.Justbarely,though.”

“Shiiiiiit!”shescreamed,clenchingherfists.“Howinthehelldidyoubeathimonyourfirsttry?”Igotthedistinctimpressionshewantedtosockmeintheface.

“Itwaspureluck,”Isaid.“IusedtoplayJoustallthetimeagainstafriendofmine.SoI’dalreadyhadatonofpreparation.I’msureifyou’dhadasmuchpractice—”

“Please!”shegrowled,holdingupahand.“Donotpatronizeme,OK?”

SheletoutwhatIcanonlydescribeasahowloffrustration.“Idon’tbelievethis!DoyourealizeI’vebeentryingtobeathimforfivegoddamnweeks!”

“Butaminuteagoyousaiditwasthreeweeks—”

“Don’tinterruptme!”Shegavemeanothershove.“I’vebeenpracticingJoustnonstopforoveramonthnow!I’mseeingflyingostrichesinmygoddamnsleep!”

“Thatcan’tbepleasant.”

“Andyoujustwalkinhereandnailitonthefirsttry!”Shestartedpoundingherfistintothecenterofherforehead,andIrealizedshewaspissedatherself,notme.

“Listen,”Isaid.“Itreallywasluck.I’vegotaknackforclassicarcadegames.That’smyspecialty.”Ishrugged.“StophittingyourselflikeRainMan,OK?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd95

5/24/112:05PM

96:ErnestCline

Shestoppedandstaredme.Afterafewseconds,sheletoutalongsigh.

“Whycouldn’titbeCentipede?OrMs.Pac-Man?OrBurgerTime?ThenI’dprobablyhavealreadyclearedtheFirstGatebynow!”

“Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat,”Isaid.

Sheglaredatmeasecond,thengavemeadevilishsmile.Sheturnedtofacetheexitandbegantoexecuteaseriesofelaborategesturesintheairinfrontofherwhilewhisperingthewordsofsomeincantation.

“Hey,”Isaid.“Holdonasec.Whatareyoudoing?”

ButIalreadyknew.Asshefinishedcastingherspell,agiantstonewallappeared,completelycoveringthechamber’sonlyexit.Shit!She’dcasta

Barrierspell.Iwastrappedinsidetheroom.

“Oh,comeon!”Ishouted.“Whydidyoudothat?”

“Youseemedtobeinanawfulbighurrytogetoutofhere.MyguessisthatwhenAnorakgaveyoutheCopperKey,healsogaveyousomesortofclueaboutthelocationoftheFirstGate.Right?That’swhereyou’reheadednext,isn’tit?”

“Yeah,”Isaid.Ithoughtaboutdenyingit,butwhatwasthepointnow?

“Sounlessyoucannullifymyspell—andI’mbettingyoucan’t,Mr.

Tenth-LevelWarrior—thatbarrierwillkeepyouinhereuntiljustaftermidnight,whentheserverresets.Allofthosetrapsyoudisarmedonyourwaydownherewillreset.Thatshouldslowdownyourexitconsiderably.”

“Yes,”Isaid.“Itwill.”

“Andwhileyou’rebusymakingyourwaybackuptothesurface,I’llhaveanothershotatdefeatingAcererak.AndthistimeI’mgonnadestroyhim.ThenI’llberightbehindyou,mister.”

Ifoldedmyarms.“Ifthekinghasbeenbeatingyourassforthepastfiveweeks,whatmakesyouthinkyou’refinallygoingtowintonight?”

“Competitionbringsoutthebestinme,”shereplied.“Italwayshas.

AndnowI’vegotsomeseriouscompetition.”

Iglancedoveratthemagicalbarriershe’dcreated.Shewasoverfiftiethlevel,soitwouldremaininexistenceforthespell’smaximumduration:fifteenminutes.AllIcoulddowasstandthereandwaitforittodissipate.

“You’reevil,youknowthat?”Isaid.

Shegrinnedandshookherhead.“ChaoticNeutral,sugar.”

Igrinnedbackather.“I’mstillgoingtobeatyoutotheFirstGate,youknow.”

“Probably,”shesaid.“Butthisisjustthebeginning.You’llstillhaveto

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd96

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:97

clearit.Andtherearestilltwomorekeystofind,andtwomoregatestoclear.Plentyoftimeformetocatchupwithyou,andthenleaveyouinthedust,ace.”

“We’llseeaboutthat,lady.”

ShemotionedtothewindowdisplayingtheScoreboard.“You’refamousnow,”shesaid.“Yourealizewhatthatmeans,don’tyou?”

“Ihaven’thadmuchtimetothinkaboutityet.”

“Well,Ihave.I’vebeenthinkingaboutitforthepastfiveweeks.Youravatar’snameonthatScoreboardisgoingtochangeeverything.Thepublicwillbecomeobsessedwiththecontestagain,justlikewhenitfirstbegan.Themediaisalreadygoingberserk.Bytomorrow,Parzivalwillbeahouseholdname.”

Thatthoughtmademealittlequeasy.

“Youcouldbecomefamousintherealworldtoo,”shesaid.“Ifyourevealyourtrueidentitytothemedia.”

“I’mnotanidiot.”

“Good.Becausetherearebillionsofdollarsupforgrabs,andnoweveryoneisgoingtoassumeyouknowhowandwheretofindtheegg.Therearealotofpeoplewhowouldkillforthatinformation.”

“Iknowthat,”Isaid.“AndIappreciateyourconcern.ButI’llbefine.”

ButIdidn’tfeelfine.Ihadn’treallyconsideredanyofthis,maybebecauseI’dneverreallybelievedIwouldactuallybeinthisposition.

Westoodthereinsilence,watchingtheclockandwaiting.“Whatwouldyoudoifyouwon?”shesuddenlyasked.“Howwouldyouspendallthatmoney?”

Ihadspentalotoftimethinkingaboutthat.Idaydreamedaboutitallthetime.AechandIhadmadeabsurdlistsofthingswewoulddoandbuyifwewontheprize.

“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“Theusual,Iguess.Moveintoamansion.Buyabunchofcoolshit.Notbepoor.”

“Wow.Bigdreamer,”shesaid.“Andafteryoubuyyourmansionandyour‘coolshit,’whatwillyoudowiththehundredandthirtybillionyou’llhaveleftover?”

NotwantinghertothinkIwassomeshallowidiot,IimpulsivelyblurtedoutwhatI’dalwaysdreamedofdoingifIwon.ItwassomethingI’dnevertoldanyone.

“I’dhaveanuclear-poweredinterstellarspacecraftconstructedinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd97

5/24/112:05PM

98:ErnestCline

Earth’sorbit,”Isaid.“I’dstockitwithalifetimesupplyoffoodandwater,aself-sustainingbiosphere,andasupercomputerloadedwitheverymovie,book,song,videogame,andpieceofartworkthathumancivilizationhasevercreated,alongwithastand-alonecopyoftheOASIS.ThenI’dinviteafewofmyclosestfriendstocomeaboard,alongwithateamofdoctorsandscientists,andwe’dallgetthehelloutofDodge.LeavethesolarsystemandstartlookingforanextrasolarEarthlikeplanet.”

Ihadn’tthoughtthisplanallthewaythroughyet,ofcourse.Istillhadalotofdetailstoworkout.

Sheraisedaneyebrow.“That’sprettyambitious,”shesaid.“Butyoudorealizethatnearlyhalfthepeopleonthisplanetarestarving,right?”Idetectednomaliceinhervoice.ShesoundedlikeshegenuinelybelievedImightnotbeawareofthisfact.

“Yes,Iknow,”Isaiddefensively.“Thereasonsomanypeoplearestarvingis

becausewe’vewreckedtheplanet.TheEarthisdying,youknow?

It’stimetoleave.”

“That’saprettynegativeoutlook,”shesaid.“IfIwinthatdough,I’mgoingtomakesureeveryoneonthisplanethasenoughtoeat.Oncewetackleworldhunger,thenwecanfigureouthowtofixtheenvironmentandsolvetheenergycrisis.”

Irolledmyeyes.“Right,”Isaid.“Andafteryoupulloffthatmiracle,youcangeneticallyengineerabunchofSmurfsandunicornstofrolicaroundthisnewperfectworldyou’vecreated.”

“I’mbeingserious,”shesaid.

“Youreallythinkit’sthatsimple?”Isaid.“Thatyoucanjustwriteacheckfortwohundredandfortybilliondollarsandfixalltheworld’sproblems?”

“Idon’tknow.Maybenot.ButI’mgonnagiveitashot.”

“Ifyouwin.”

“Right.IfIwin.”

Justthen,theOASISserverclockstruckmidnight.Webothknewthesecondithappened,becausethethronereappearedatopthedais,alongwithAcererak.Hesattheremotionless,lookingjustlikehedidwhenI’dfirstenteredtheroom.

Art3misglancedupathim,thenbackatme.Shesmiledandgavemeasmallwave.“I’llseeyouaround,Parzival.”

“Yeah,”Ireplied.“Seeya.”Sheturnedandbegantowalktowardthedais.Icalledafterher.“Hey,Art3mis?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd98

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:99

Sheturnedback.ForsomereasonIfeltcompelledtohelpher,eventhoughIknewIshouldn’t.“Tryplayingontheleftside,”Isaid.“That’showIwon.Ithinkhemightbeeasiertobeatifhe’splayingthestork.”

Shestaredatmeforasecond,possiblytryingtogaugewhetherIwasmessingwithher.Thenshenoddedandascendedthedais.Acererakcametolifeassoonasshesetfootonthefirststep.

“Greetings,Art3mis,”hisvoiceboomed.“Whatisitthatyouseek?”

Icouldn’thearherreply,butafewsecondslaterthethronetransformedintotheJoustgame,justasithadearlier.Art3missaidsomethingtothelichandthetwoofthemswitchedsides,sothatshewasontheleft.Thentheybegantoplay.

Iwatchedthemplayfromadistanceuntilafewminuteslater,whenherBarrierspelldissipated.IcastonelastglanceupatArt3mis,thenthrewopenthedoorandranout.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd99

5/24/112:05PM

Ittookmealittleoveranhourtomakemywaybackthroughthetombanduptothesurface.TheinstantIcrawledoutside,amessageswaitingindicatorbegantoflashonmydisplay.IrealizedthenthatHallidayhadplacedthetombinsideanull-communicationzone,sonoonecouldreceivecalls,texts,ore-mailwhiletheywereinside.Probablytopreventguntersfromcallingforhelporadvice.

IcheckedmymessagesandsawthatAechhadbeentryingtoreachmesincethemomentmynameappearedontheScoreboard.He’dcalledoveradozentimesandhadalsosentseveraltextmessagesaskingmewhatinthesweetnameofChristwasgoingonandscreamingatmeinALLCAPS

tocallhimbackrightnow.JustasI’dfinisheddeletingthesemessages,Ireceivedanotherincomingcall.ItwasAechtryingonceagaintoreachme.Idecidednottopickup.Instead,Isenthimashorttextmessage,promisingtocall

assoonasIcould.

AsIranoutoftheforest,IkepttheScoreboardupinthecornerofmydisplaysoI’dknowimmediatelyifArt3miswonherJoustmatchandobtainedthekey.WhenIfinallyreachedthetransportterminalandjumpedintothenearestbooth,itwasjustaftertwoo’clockinthemorning.

Ienteredmydestinationonthebooth’stouchscreen,andamapofMiddletownappearedonthedisplay.Iwaspromptedtoselectoneoftheplanet’s256transportterminalsasmyarrivalpoint.

WhenHallidayhadcreatedMiddletown,hehadn’tplacedjustasingleClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd100

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:101

re-creationofhishometownthere.He’dmade256identicalcopiesofit,spreadoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.Ididn’tthinkitwouldmatterwhichcopyofhishometownIwentto,soIselectedoneatrandom,neartheequator.ThenItappedconfirmtopaythefare,andmyavatarvanished.

Amillisecondlater,Iwasstandinginsideavintage1980sphoneboothlocatedinsideanoldGreyhoundbusstation.Iopenedthedoorandsteppedout.Itwaslikesteppingoutofatimemachine.SeveralNPCsmilledaround,alldressedinmid-1980sattire.Awomanwithagiantozone-depletinghairdobobbedherheadtoanoversizeWalkman.AkidinagrayMembersOnlyjacketleanedagainstthewall,workingonaRubik’sCube.AMohawkedpunkrockersatinaplasticchair,watchingaRiptidererunonacoin-operatedtelevision.

Ilocatedtheexitandheadedforit,drawingmyswordasIwent.TheentiresurfaceofMiddletownwasaPvPzone,soIhadtoproceedwithcaution.

ShortlyaftertheHuntbegan,thisplanethadturnedintoGrandCentralStation,andall256copiesofHalliday’shometownhadbeenscouredandransackedbyanendlessparadeofgunters,allsearchingforkeysandclues.ThepopulartheoryonthemessageboardswasthatHallidayhadcreatedmultiplecopiesof

hishometownsothatseveralavatarscouldsearchitatthesametimewithoutfightingoverasinglelocation.Ofcourse,allofthissearchinghadyieldedabigfatdoughnut.Nokeys.Noclues.Noegg.Sincethen,interestintheplanethadwaneddramatically.

Butsomeguntersprobablystillcamehereonoccasion.

IftherewasalreadyanothergunterinsideHalliday’shousewhenIgotthere,myplanwastomakearunforit,thenstealacaranddrivetwenty-fivemiles(inanydirection)tothenextidenticalcopyofMiddletown.

Andthenthenext,untilIfoundaninstanceofHalliday’shousethatwasunoccupied.

Outsidethebusstation,itwasabeautifulMidwesternday.Thereddishorangesunhoveredlowinthesky.EventhoughI’dneverbeentoMiddletownbefore,I’ddoneextensiveresearchonit,soIknewHallidayhadcodedtheplanetsothatnomatterwhenyouvisitedorwhereyouwereonthesurface,itwasalwaysaperfectlate-autumnafternoon,circa1986.

IpulledupamapofthetownandtracedaroutefrommycurrentlocationtoHalliday’schildhoodhome.Itwasaboutamiletothenorth.IClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd101

5/24/112:05PM

102:ErnestCline

pointedmyavatarinthatdirectionandbegantorun.Lookingaround,Iwasastoundedatthepainstakingattentiontodetail.I’dreadthatHallidayhaddoneallofthecodinghimself,drawingonhismemoriestore-createhishometownexactlyasitwasduringhischildhood.He’dusedoldstreetmaps,phonebooks,photographs,andvideofootageforreference,tomakeeverythingasauthenticandaccurateaspossible.

TheplaceremindedmealotofthetowninthemovieFootloose.Small,rural,andsparselypopulated.Thehousesallseemedincrediblybigandwereplacedridiculouslyfarapart.Itastoundedmethatfiftyyearsago,evenlower-income

familieshadanentirehousetothemselves.TheNPC

citizensalllookedlikeextrasfromaJohnCougarMellencampvideo.Isawpeopleoutrakingleaves,walkingdogs,andsittingonporches.Outofcuriosity,Iwavedatafewofthemandgotafriendlywaveinreturneverytime.

Cluesastothetimeperiodwereeverywhere.NPC-pilotedcarsandtruckscruisedslowlyupanddowntheshadystreets,allofthemgas-guzzlingantiques:Trans-Ams,DodgeOmnis,IROCZ28s,andK-cars.Ipassedaservicestation,andthesignsaidgasolinewasonlyninety-threecentsagallon.

IwasabouttoturndownHalliday’sstreetwhenIheardafanfareoftrumpets.MyeyesshotovertotheScoreboardwindow,stillhoveringinthecornerofmydisplay.

Art3mishaddoneit.

Hernamenowappeareddirectlybelowmine.Herscorewas9,000

points—athousandpointslessthanmine.ItappearedthatI’dreceivedabonusforbeingthefirstavatartoobtaintheCopperKey.

ThefullramificationsoftheScoreboard’sexistenceoccurredtomeforthefirsttime.Fromhereonout,itwouldnotonlyallowgunterstokeeptrackofeachother’sprogress,itwouldalsoshowtheentireworldwhothecurrentfrontrunnerswere,creatinginstantcelebrities(andtargets)intheprocess.

Iknew,atthatexactmoment,Art3mismustbestaringdownatherowncopyoftheCopperKey,readingtheclueengravedonitssurface.Iwassureshe’dbeabletodecipheritjustasquicklyasIhad.Infact,shewasprobablyalreadyonherwaytoMiddletownrightnow.

Thatgotmemovingagain.Inowhadonlyanhour’sheadstartonher.

Maybeless.

WhenIreachedClevelandAvenue,thestreetonwhichHallidayhadClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd102

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:103

grownup,Isprinteddownthecrackedsidewalktothefrontstepsofhischildhoodhome.ItlookedjustlikethephotographsI’dseen:amodesttwo-storycolonialwithredvinylsiding.Twolate-’70sFordsedanswereparkedinthedriveway,oneofthemuponcinderblocks.

LookingatthereplicaHallidayhadcreatedofhisoldhouse,Itriedtoimaginewhatithadbeenlikeforhimtogrowupthere.I’dreadthatintherealMiddletown,Ohio,everyhouseonthisstreethadbeendemolishedinthelate’90stomakeroomforastripmall.ButHallidayhadpreservedhischildhoodforever,hereintheOASIS.

Iranupthewalkwayandenteredthroughthefrontdoor,whichopenedintothelivingroom.Iknewthisroomwell,becauseitappearedinAnorak’sInvitation.Irecognizedthesimulatedwood-grainpaneling,theburntorangecarpet,andgarishfurniturethatlookedlikeithadbeenscavengedfromseveraldisco-erayardsales.

Thehousewasempty.Forwhateverreason,HallidayhaddecidednottoplaceNPCre-creationsofhimselforhisdeceasedparentshere.Perhapsthatwouldhavebeentoocreepy,evenforhim.However,Ididspotafamiliarfamilyphotoonthelivingroomwall.ThisportraithadbeentakenatthelocalKmartin1984,butMr.andMrs.Hallidaywerestilldressedinlate-’70sfashions.Twelve-year-oldJimmystoodbetweenthem,gloweringatthecamerafrombehindthickeyeglasses.TheHallidayslookedlikeanordinaryAmericanfamily.Therewasnohintthatthestoicmaninthebrownleisuresuitwasanabusivealcoholic,thatthesmilingwomaninthefloralpantsuitwasbipolar,orthattheyoungboyinthefadedAsteroidsT-shirtwouldonedaycreateanentirelynewuniverse.

Lookingaround,IwonderedwhyHalliday,whoalwaysclaimedtohavehadamiserablechildhood,hadlaterbecomesonostalgicforit.IknewthatifandwhenIfinallyescapedfromthestacks,I’dneverlookback.

AndIdefinitelywouldn’tcreateadetailedsimulationoftheplace.

IglancedoveratthebulkyZenithtelevisionandtheAtari2600connectedtoit.ThesimulatedwoodgrainontheAtari’splasticcasingperfectlymatchedthe

simulatedwoodgrainonthetelevisioncabinetandonthelivingroomwalls.BesidetheAtariwasashoeboxcontainingninegamecartridges:Combat,SpaceInvaders,Pitfall,Kaboom!,StarRaiders,TheEmpireStrikesBack,Starmaster,Yars’Revenge,andE.T.GuntershadattachedalargeamountofsignificancetotheabsenceofAdventure,thegameHallidaywasseenplayingonthisverysameAtariattheendofAnorak’sInvitation.PeoplehadsearchedtheentireMiddletownsimulationClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd103

5/24/112:05PM

104:ErnestCline

foracopyofit,buttheredidn’tappeartobeoneanywhereonthewholeplanet.GuntershadbroughtcopiesofAdventureherefromotherplanets,butwhentheytriedtoplaythemonHalliday’sAtari,theyneverworked.

Sofar,noonehadbeenabletofigureoutwhy.

Ididaquicksearchoftherestofthehouseandmadesurenootheravatarswerepresent.ThenIopenedthedoorofJamesHalliday’sroom.Itwasempty,soIsteppedinsideandlockedthedoor.Screenshotsandsimcapsofthisroomhadbeenavailableforyears,andI’dstudiedallofthemclosely.

Butthiswasmyfirsttimestandinginsidethe“realthing.”Igotchills.

Thecarpetwasahorrendousmustardcolor.Sowasthewallpaper.Butthewallswerealmostentirelycoveredwithmovieandrockbandposters:RealGenius,WarGames,Tron,PinkFloyd,Devo,Rush.Abookshelfstoodjustinsidethedoor,overflowingwithscience-fictionandfantasypaperbacks(alltitlesI’dread,ofcourse).AsecondbookshelfbythebedwascrammedtocapacitywitholdcomputermagazinesandDungeons

&Dragonsrulebooks.Severallongboxesofcomicbookswerestackedagainstthewall,eachcarefullylabeled.AndthereonthebatteredwoodendeskinthecornerwasJamesHalliday’sfirstcomputer.

Likemanyhomecomputersofitsera,itwashousedinthesamecaseasitskeyboard.trs-80colorcomputer2,16kramwasprintedonalabelabovethe

keys.Cablessnakedoutofthebackofthemachine,leadingtoanaudiocassetterecorder,asmallcolortelevision,adot-matrixprinter,anda300-baudmodem.Alonglistoftelephonenumbersfordial-upbulletinboardsystemswastapedtothedeskbesidethemodem.

IsatdownandlocatedthepowerswitchforthecomputerandtheTV.

Iheardacrackleofstatic,followedbyalowhum,astheTVwarmedup.

Amomentlater,theTRS-80’sgreenstart-upscreenappeared,andIsawthesewords:

EXTENDEDCOLORBASIC1.1

Belowthiswasaflashingcursor,cyclingthrougheverycolorofthespectrum.ItypedhelloandhittheEnterkey.

?syntaxerrorappearedonthenextline.“Hello”wasn’tavalidcommandinBASIC,theonlylanguagetheancientcomputerunderstood.

IknewfrommyresearchthatthecassetterecorderfunctionedastheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd104

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:105

TRS-80’s“tapedrive.”Itstoreddataasanalogsoundonmagneticaudio-tapes.WhenHallidayhadfirststartedprogramming,thepoorkidhadn’tevenhadaccesstoafloppydiskdrive.He’dhadtostorehiscodeoncassettetapes.Ashoeboxsatbesidethetapedrive,filledwithdozensofthesecassettes.Mostofthemweretextadventuregames:Raaka-tu,Bedlam,Pyramid,andMadnessandtheMinotaur.TherewerealsoafewROM

cartridges,whichfitintoaslotonthesideofthecomputer.IdugaroundintheboxuntilIfoundacartridgewithdungeonsofdaggorathprintedincrookedyellowtextonitswornredlabel.Thegame’sartworkdepictedafirst-personviewofalongdungeoncorridorblockedbyahulkingbluegiantwithalargestoneax.

WhenalistofthegamesfoundinHalliday’sbedroomhadfirstappearedonline,I’dmadesuretodownloadandmastereverysingleoneofthem,soI’dalreadysolvedDungeonsofDaggorath,abouttwoyearsearlier.Ithadtakenmostofaweekend.Thegraphicswerecrude,butevenso,thegamewasfunandincrediblyaddictive.

Iknewfromreadingthemessageboardsthatduringthepastfiveyears,severalguntershadplayedandsolvedDungeonsofDaggorathrighthereonHalliday’sTRS-80.Somehadsolvedeverysinglegameintheshoebox,justtoseeifanythingwouldhappen.Andnothinghad.ButnoneofthoseguntershadbeeninpossessionoftheCopperKey.

MyhandsweretremblingslightlyasIpoweredofftheTRS-80andinsertedtheDungeonsofDaggorathcartridge.WhenIturnedthecomputerbackon,thescreenflashedtoblackandacrudegraphicofawizardappeared,accompaniedbysomeominoussoundeffects.Thewizardheldastaffinonehand,andbelowhim,printedinallcapitalletters,wasthelegendidareyeenter...thedungeonsofdaggorath!

Ilaidmyfingersonthekeyboardandbegantoplay.AssoonasIdid,ajamboxsittingontopofHalliday’sdresserturneditselfon,andfamiliarmusicbegantoblastoutofit.ItwasBasilPoledouris’sscoreforConantheBarbarian.

ThatmustbeAnorak’swayoflettingmeknowI’montherighttrack,Ithought.

Iquicklylosttrackoftime.IforgotthatmyavatarwassittinginHalliday’sbedroomandthat,inreality,Iwassittinginmyhideout,huddledneartheelectricheater,tappingattheemptyairinfrontofme,enteringcommandsonanimaginarykeyboard.Alloftheinterveninglayersslippedaway,andIlostmyselfinthegamewithinthegame.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd105

5/24/112:05PM

106:ErnestCline

InDungeonsofDaggorath,youcontrolyouravatarbytypingincommands,liketurnleftorgettorch,navigatingyourwaythroughamazeofvector-graphiccorridorswhilefightingoffspiders,stonegiants,blobs,andwraithsasyoudescenddeeperanddeeper,workingyourwaydownthroughthedungeon’sfiveincreasinglydifficultlevels.Ittookawhileforthecommandsandquirksofthegametocomebacktome,butoncetheydid,thegamewasn’tthatdifficulttosolve.Theabilitytosavemyplaceatanytimebasicallygavemeinfinitelives.(Althoughsavingandreloadinggamesfromthetapedriveprovedtobeaslowandtediousprocess.Itoftentookseveralattemptsandalotoffiddlingwiththecassettedeck’svolumeknob.)Savingmygamealsoallowedmetologoutforbathroombreaks,andtorechargemyspaceheater.

WhileIwasplaying,theConantheBarbarianscoreendedandthejamboxclickedoverandbegantoplaytheoppositesideofthetape,treatingmetothesynthesizer-ladenscoreforLadyhawke.Icouldn’twaittorubAech’snoseinthat.

Ireachedthelastlevelofthedungeonaroundfouro’clockinthemorningandfacedoffagainsttheEvilWizardofDaggorath.Afterdyingandreloadingtwice,Ifinallydefeatedhim,usinganElvishSwordandaRingofIce.Icompletedthegamebypickingupthewizard’smagicring,claim-ingitformyself.AsIdid,animageappearedonthescreen,showingawizardwithabrightstaronhisstaffandhisrobes.Thetextbelowread:behold!destinyawaitsthehandofanewwizard!

Iwaitedtoseewhatwouldhappen.Foramoment,nothingdid.ThenHalliday’sancientdot-matrixprintercametolifeandnoisilygroundoutasinglelineoftext.Thetractorfeedspooledthepageoutofthetopoftheprinter.Itorethesheetoffandreadwhatwasthere:congratulations!youhaveopenedthefirstgate!

Iglancedaroundandsawthattherewasnowawrought-irongateembeddedinthebedroomwall,intheexactspotwheretheWarGamesposterhadbeenasecondbefore.Inthecenterofthegatewasacopper-platedlockwithakeyhole.

IclimbedupontopofHalliday’sdesksoIcouldreachthelock,thenslidthe

CopperKeyintothekeyholeandturnedit.Theentiregatebegantoglow,asifthemetalhadbecomesuperheated,anditsdoubledoorsswunginward,revealingafieldofstars.Itappearedtobeaportalintodeepspace.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd106

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:107

“MyGod,it’sfullofstars,”Iheardadisembodiedvoicesay.Irecognizeditasasoundbitefromthefilm2010.ThenIheardalow,ominoushum,followedbyapieceofmusicfromthatfilm’sscore:“AlsoSprachZara-thustra”byRichardStrauss.

Ileanedforwardandlookedthroughtheportal.Leftandright,upanddown.Nothingbutanendlessfieldofstarsinalldirections.Squinting,Icouldalsomakeoutafewtinynebulaeandgalaxiesinthedistance.

Ididn’thesitate.Ijumpedintotheopengate.Itseemedtopullmein,andIbegantofall.ButIfellforwardinsteadofdown,andthestarsseemedtofallwithme.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd107

5/24/112:05PM

Ifoundmyselfstandinginanoldvideoarcade,playingGalaga.

Thegamewasalreadyinprogress.Ihaddoubleshipsandascoreof41,780points.Iglanceddownandsawthatmyhandswereonthecontrols.Afterasecondortwoofdisorientation,Ireflexivelybegantoplay,movingthejoystickleftjustintimetoavoidlosingoneofmyships.

Keepingoneeyeonthegame,Itriedtomakesenseofmysurroundings.InmyperipheralvisionIwasabletomakeoutaDigDuggameonmyleftandaZaxxonmachinetomyright.Behindme,Icouldhearacacophonyofdigitalcombatcomingfromdozensofothervintagearcadegames.Then,asIfinishedclearingthewaveonGalaga,Inoticedmyre-flectioninthegame’sscreen.Itwasn’tmyavatar’sfaceIsawthere.ItwasMatthewBroderick’sface.Ayoungpre–FerrisBuellerandpre-LadyhawkeMatthewBroderick.

ThenIknewwhereIwas.AndwhoIwas.

IwasDavidLightman,MatthewBroderick’scharacterinthemovieWarGames.Andthiswashisfirstsceneinthefilm.

Iwasinthemovie.

Itookaquickglancearoundandsawadetailedreplicaof20GrandPalace,thecombinationarcade/pizzajointfeaturedinthefilm.Kidswithfeathered’80shairstyleswereclusteredaroundeachofthegames.Otherssatinbooths,eatingpizzaanddrinkingsodas.“VideoFever”bytheBeepersblastedoutofajukeboxinthecorner.Everythinglookedandsoundedexactlyasitdidinthemovie.Hallidayhadcopiedeverylastdetailfromthefilmandre-createditasaninteractivesimulation.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd108

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:109

Holyshit.

I’dspentyearswonderingwhatchallengesawaitedmeinsidetheFirstGate.NeveroncehadIimaginedthis.ButIprobablyshouldhave.

WarGameshadbeenoneofHalliday’sall-timefavoritemovies.WhichwaswhyIhadwatcheditoverthreedozentimes.Well,that,andalsobecauseitwascompletelyawesome,withanold-schoolteenagecomputerhackerastheprotagonist.Anditlookedlikeallofthatresearchwasabouttopayoff.

NowIheardarepetitiveelectronicbeeping.ItseemedtobecomingfromtherightpocketofthejeansIwaswearing.Keepingmylefthandonthejoystick,Ireachedinmypocketandpulledoutadigitalwatch.Thereadoutsaid7:45a.m.WhenIpushedoneofthebuttonstosilencethealarm,awarningflashedinthecenterofmydisplay:david,you’regoingtobelateforschool!

IusedavoicecommandtopullupmyOASISmap,hopingtolearnwherethegatehadtransportedme.ButitturnedoutthatnotonlywasInolongeronMiddletown,IwasnolongerintheOASISatall.Mylocatoriconwasinthemiddleofablankscreen,whichmeantIwasOTM—offthemap.WhenI’dsteppedintothegate,ithadtransportedmyavatarintoastand-alonesimulation,avirtuallocationseparatefromtheOASIS.

ItseemedthattheonlywayIcouldgetbackwouldbetoclearthegatebycompletingthequest.Butifthiswasavideogame,howwasIsupposedtoplayit?Ifthiswasaquest,whatwasmygoal?IcontinuedtoplayGalagawhileponderingthesequestions.Asecondlater,ayoungboywalkedintothearcadeandcameovertome.

“Hi,David!”hesaid,hiseyesonmygame.

Irecognizedthiskidfromthemovie.HisnamewasHowie.Inthefilm,MatthewBroderick’scharacterhandshisGalagagameofftoHowiewhenherushesofftoschool.

“Hi,David!”theboyrepeated,inthesameexacttone.Ashespokethistime,hiswordsalsoappearedastext,superimposedacrossthebottomofmydisplay,likesubtitles.Belowthis,flashingred,werethewordsfinaldialoguewarning!

Ibegantounderstand.Thesimulationwaswarningmethatthiswasmyfinalchancetodeliverthenextlineofdialoguefromthemovie.IfIdidn’tsaytheline,Icouldguesswhatwouldprobablyhappennext.gameover.

ButIdidn’tpanic,becauseIknewthenextline.I’dseenWarGamessomanytimesthatIknewtheentirefilmbyheart.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd109

5/24/112:05PM

110:ErnestCline

“Hi,Howie!”Isaid.ButthevoiceIheardinmyearphoneswasnotmyown.ItwasMatthewBroderick’svoice.AndasIspoketheline,thewarningonmydisplayvanishedandascoreof100pointsappeared,superimposedatthetopofmydisplay.

Irackedmybrain,tryingtomentallyreplaytherestofthescene.Thenextlinecametome.“How’sitgoing?”Isaid,andmyscorejumpedto200points.

“Prettygood,”Howiereplied.

Istartedtofeelgiddy.Thiswasincredible.Iwastotallyinsidethemovie.

Hallidayhadtransformedafifty-year-oldfilmintoareal-timeinteractivevideogame.Iwonderedhowlongithadtakenhimtoprogramthisthing.

Anotherwarningflashedonmydisplay:you’regoingtobelateforschool,david!hurry!

IsteppedawayfromtheGalagamachine.“Hey,youwannatakethisover?”IaskedHowie.

“Sure,”hereplied,grabbingthecontrols.“Thanks!”

Agreenpathappearedonthefloorofthearcade,leadingfromwhereIstoodtotheexit.Istartedtofollowit,thenrememberedtorunbackandgrabmynotebookoffoftheDigDuggame,justlikeDavidhadinthemovie.AsIdidthis,myscorejumpedanother100points,andactionbonus!appearedonmydisplay.

“Bye,David!”Howieshouted.

“Bye!”Ishoutedback.Another100points.Thiswaseasy!

Ifollowedthegreenpathoutof20GrandPalaceandupthebusystreetafewblocks.Iwasnowrunningalongatree-linedsuburbanstreet.Iroundedacornerandsawthatthepathleddirectlytoalargebrickbuilding.Thesignoverthe

doorsaidSnohomishHighSchool—David’sschool,andthesettingofthenextfewscenesinthemovie.

MymindwasracingasIraninside.IfallIhadtodowasrattleofflinesofdialoguefromWarGamesoncueforthenexttwohours,thiswasgoingtobeabreeze.Withoutevenknowingit,I’dtotallyoverprepared.IprobablyknewWarGamesevenbetterthanIknewRealGeniusandBetterOffDead.

AsIrandowntheemptyschoolhallway,anotherwarningflashedinfrontofme:you’relateforyourbiologyclass!

Icontinuedtosprintattopspeed,followingthegreenpath,whichwasnowpulsingbrightly.IteventuallyledmetothedoorofaclassroomonClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd110

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:111

thesecondfloor.Throughthewindow,Icouldseethatclasswasalreadyinsession.Theteacherwasupattheboard.Isawmyseat—theonlyemptyoneintheroom.

ItwasrightbehindAllySheedy.

Iopenedthedoorandtiptoedinside,buttheteacherspottedmerightaway.

“Ah,David!Niceofyoutojoinus!”

MakingitallthewaytotheendofthemoviewoundupbeingalotharderthanIanticipated.Itonlytookmeaboutfifteenminutestofigureoutthe“rules”ofthegameandtosortouthowthescoringsystemworked.Iwasactuallyrequiredtodoalotmorethansimplyrecitedialogue.IalsohadtoperformalltheactionsthatBroderick’scharacterperformedinthefilm,inthecorrectwayandatthecorrectmoment.Itwaslikebeingforcedtoacttheleadingroleinaplayyou’dwatchedmanytimesbuthadneveractuallyrehearsed.

Formostofthemovie’sfirsthour,Iwasonedge,constantlytryingtothinkaheadtohavemynextlineofdialogueready.WheneverIflubbedalineordidn’tperformanactionattherightmoment,myscoredecreasedandawarningflashedonmydisplay.WhenImadetwomistakesinarow,afinalwarningmessageappeared.Iwasn’tsurewhatwouldhappenifIgotthreestrikesinarow,butmyguesswasthatI’deitherbeexpelledfromthegateorthatmyavatarwouldsimplybekilled.Iwasn’teagertofindoutwhichitwouldbe.

WheneverIcorrectlyperformedsevenactionsorrecitedsevenlinesofdialogueinarow,thegamewouldawardmea“CueCardPower-Up.”ThenexttimeIblankedonwhattodoorsay,IcouldselecttheCueCardiconandthecorrectactionorlineofdialoguewouldappearonmydisplay,sortoflikeateleprompter.

Duringscenesthatdidn’tinvolvemycharacter,thesimulationcuttoapassivethird-personperspective,andallIhadtodowassitbackandwatchthingsplayout,sortoflikewatchingacutsceneinanoldvideogame.Duringthesescenes,Icouldrelaxuntilmycharactercameon-screenagain.Duringoneofthesebreaks,ItriedtoaccessacopyofthemoviefrommyOASISconsole’sharddrive,withtheintentionofplayingitinawindowonmydisplaysoIcouldrefertoit.Butthesystemwouldn’tClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd111

5/24/112:05PM

112:ErnestCline

letme.Infact,IfoundthatIcouldn’topenanywindowsatallwhileinsidethegate.WhenItried,Igotawarning:nocheating.trytocheatagainandit’sgameover!

Luckily,itturnedoutthatIdidn’tneedanyhelp.OnceI’dcollectedthemaximumoffiveCueCardPower-UpsIbegantorelax,andthegameactuallystartedtobefun.Itwasn’thardtoenjoybeinginsideoneofmyfavoriteflicks.Afterawhile,IevendiscoveredthatIcouldearnbonuspointsbydeliveringalineintheexacttoneandwiththesameinflectionasinthefilm.

Ididn’tknowitatthetime,butI’djustbecomethefirstpersontoplayanentirelynewtypeofvideogame.WhenGSSgotwindoftheWarGames

simulationinsidetheFirstGate(andtheydidashorttimelater),thecompanyquicklypatentedtheideaandbegantobuyuptherightstooldmoviesandTVshowsandconvertthemintoimmersiveinteractivegamesthattheydubbedFlicksyncs.Flicksyncsbecamewildlypopular.ThereturnedouttobeahugemarketforgamesthatallowedpeopletoplayaleadingroleinoneoftheirfavoriteoldmoviesorTVseries.

BythetimeIreachedthefinalscenesofthemovie,Iwasstartingtogettwitchyfromexhaustion.I’dnowbeenupforovertwenty-fourhoursstraight,jackedintheentiretime.ThelastactionIhadtoperformwasinstructingtheWOPRsupercomputerto“playitself”attic-tac-toe.SinceeverygametheWOPRplayedendedinatie,thishadtheimprobableeffectofteachingtheartificiallyintelligentcomputerthatglobalthermonuclearwar,too,wasagameinwhich“theonlywinningmoveisnottoplay.”ThispreventedtheWOPRfromlaunchingalloftheUnitedStates’

ICBMsattheSovietUnion.

I,DavidLightman,ateenagecomputergeekfromsuburbanSeattle,hadsingle-handedlypreventedtheendofhumancivilization.

TheNORADcommandcentereruptedincelebration,andIwaitedforthemovie’sendcreditstoroll.Buttheydidn’t.Instead,allthecharactersaroundmevanished,leavingmealoneinthegiantwarroom.WhenIcheckedmyavatar’sreflectioninacomputermonitor,IsawthatInolongerlookedlikeMatthewBroderick.I’dchangedbackintoParzival.

IglancedaroundtheemptyNORADcommandcenter,wonderingwhatIwassupposedtodonext.Thenallofthegiantvideodisplayscreensinfrontofmewentblank,andfourlinesofglowinggreentextappearedonthem.Itwasanotherriddle:

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd112

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:113

ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey

inadwellinglongneglected

Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle

oncethetrophiesareallcollected

Istoodthereforasecond,staringatthewordsinstunnedsilence.ThenIsnappedoutofmydazeandquicklytookseveralscreenshotsofthetext.

AsIwasdoingthis,theCopperGatereappeared,embeddedinanearbywall.Thegatewasopen,andthroughitIcouldseeHalliday’sbedroom.Itwastheexit.Thewayout.

I’ddoneit.I’dclearedtheFirstGate.

Iglancedbackupattheriddleontheviewscreens.IthadtakenmeyearstodeciphertheLimerickandlocatetheCopperKey.Atfirstglance,thisnewriddleabouttheJadeKeylookedlikeitmighttakejustaslongtofigureout.Ididn’tunderstandawordofit.ButIwasalsodeadonmyfeet,andinnoconditionforfurtherpuzzle-solving.Icouldbarelykeepmyeyesopen.

IjumpedthroughtheexitandlandedwithathudonthefloorofHalliday’sbedroom.WhenIturnedaroundandlookedatthewall,IsawthatthegatewasnowgoneandtheWarGamesposterhadreappearedinitsplace.

Icheckedmyavatar’sstatsandsawthatI’dbeenawardedseveralhundredthousandexperiencepointsforclearingthegate,enoughtoraisemyavatarfromtenthleveluptotwentiethinoneshot.ThenIcheckedtheScoreboard:

HIGHSCORES:

1.Parzival

110000

2.Art3mis

0000000

10.JDH

0000000

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd113

5/24/112:05PM

114:ErnestCline

Myscorehadincreasedby100,000points,andacopper-coloredgateiconnow

appearedbesideit.Themedia(andeveryoneelse)hadprobablybeenmonitoringtheScoreboardsincelastnight,sonowthewholeworldwouldknowthatI’dclearedtheFirstGate.

Iwastooexhaustedtoconsidertheimplications.AllIcouldthinkaboutwassleep.

Irandownstairsandintothekitchen.ThekeystotheHallidayfamilycarwereonapegboardnexttotherefrigerator.Igrabbedthemandrushedoutside.Thecar(theonethatwasn’tuponblocks)wasa1982FordThunderbird.Theenginestartedonthesecondtry.Ibackedoutofthedrivewayanddrovetothebusstation.

Fromthere,IteleportedbacktothetransportterminalnexttomyschoolonLudus.ThenIwenttomylockeranddumpedallofmyavatar’snewfoundtreasure,armor,andweaponsinsidebeforefinallyloggingoutoftheOASIS.

WhenIpulledoffmyvisor,itwas6:17a.m.Irubbedmybloodshoteyesandgazedaroundthedarkinteriorofmyhideout,tryingtowrapmyheadaroundeverythingthathadjusthappened.

Isuddenlyrealizedhowcolditwasinthevan.I’dbeenusingthetinyspaceheateroffandonallnightandhaddrainedthebatteries.Iwaswaytootiredtogetontheexercisebikeandrechargethem.AndIdidn’thavetheenergytomakethetrekbacktomyaunt’strailer,either.Butthesunwouldbeupsoon,soIknewIcouldcrashthereinmyhideoutwithoutworryingthatIwouldfreezetodeath.

Islidoffofmychairandontothefloor,thencurledupinmysleepingbag.AsIclosedmyeyes,IbegantopondertheriddleoftheJadeKey.Butsleepswallowedmewholeafewsecondslater.

Ihadadream.Iwasstandingaloneinthecenterofascorchedbattlefield,withseveraldifferentarmiesarrayedagainstme.AnarmyofSixersstoodinfrontofme,andseveraldifferentgunterclanssurroundedmeonallotherflanks,brandishingswordsandgunsandweaponsofpowerfulmagic.

Ilookeddownatmybody.Itwasn’tParzival’sbody;itwasmyown.

AndIwaswearingarmormadeofpaper.Inmyrighthandwasatoyplasticsword,andinmyleftwasalargeglassegg.Itlookedexactlyliketheglassegg

thatcausesTomCruise’scharactersomuchgriefinRiskyBusiness,butsomehowIknewthat,inthecontextofmydream,itwassupposedtobeHalliday’sEasteregg.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd114

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:115

AndIwasstandingthere,outintheopen,holdingitforalltheworldtosee.

Inunison,thearmiesofmyenemiesletoutafiercebattlecryandchargedtowardme.Theyconvergedonmypositionwithbaredteethandbloodintheireyes.Theywerecomingtotaketheegg,andtherewasnothingIcoulddotostopthem.

IknewIwasdreaming,andsoIexpectedtowakeupbeforetheyreachedme.ButIdidn’t.Thedreamcontinuedastheeggwasrippedfrommygrasp,andIfeltmyselfbeingtorntoshreds.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd115

5/24/112:05PM

Isleptforovertwelvehoursandmissedschoolentirely.

WhenIfinallywokeup,Irubbedmyeyesandlaythereinsilenceawhile,tryingtoconvincemyselfthattheeventsofthepreviousdayhadactuallyoccurred.Itallseemedlikeadreamtomenow.Fartoogoodtobereal.Eventually,Igrabbedmyvisorandgotonlinetofindoutforsure.

EverysinglenewsfeedseemedtobeshowingascreenshotoftheScoreboard.Andmyavatar’snamewasthereatthetop,infirstplace.Art3miswasstillin

secondplace,butthescorebesidehernamehadnowincreasedto109,000,just1,000pointslessthanmine.And,likeme,shehadacopper-coloredgateiconbesideherscorenowtoo.

Soshe’ddoneit.WhileI’dslept,she’ddecipheredtheinscriptionontheCopperKey.Thenshe’dgonetoMiddletown,locatedthegate,andmadeitallthewaythroughWarGames,justafewhoursafterIhad.

Inolongerfeltquitesoimpressedwithmyself.

Iflippedpastafewmorechannelsbeforestoppingononeofthemajornewsfeednetworks,whereIsawtwomensittinginfrontofascreenshotoftheScoreboard.Themanontheleft,somemiddle-agedintellectualtypebilledas“EdgarNash,GunterExpert”appearedtobeexplainingthescorestothenewsfeedanchorbesidehim.

“—appearsthattheavatarnamedParzivalreceivedslightlymorepointsforbeingthefirsttofindtheCopperKey,”Nashsaid,pointingtotheScoreboard.“Then,earlythismorning,Parzival’sscoreincreasedanotheronehundredthousandpoints,andaCopperGateiconappearedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd116

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:117

besidehisscore.ThesamechangeoccurredtoArt3mis’sscoreafewhourslater.Thisseemstoindicatethatbothofthemhavenowcompletedthefirstofthethreegates.”

“ThefamousThreeGatesthatJamesHallidayspokeofintheAnorak’sInvitationvideo?”theanchorsaid.

“Theverysame.”

“ButMr.Nash.Afterfiveyears,howisitthattwoavatarsaccomplishedthisfeatonthesameday,withinjustafewhoursofeachother?”

“Well,Ithinkthere’sonlyoneplausibleanswer.Thesetwopeople,ParzivalandArt3mis,mustbeworkingtogether.They’reprobablybothmembersofwhatisknownasa‘gunterclan.’Thesearegroupsofegghunterswho—”

Ifrownedandchangedthechannel,surfingthefeedsuntilIsawanoverlyenthusiasticreporterinterviewingOgdenMorrowviasatellite.TheOgdenMorrow.

“—joininguslivefromhishomeinOregon.Thanksforbeingwithustoday,Mr.Morrow!”

“Noproblem,”Morrowreplied.IthadbeenalmostsixyearssinceMorrowhadlastspokentothemedia,buthedidn’tseemtohaveagedaday.

HiswildgrayhairandlongbeardmadehimlooklikeacrossbetweenAlbertEinsteinandSantaClaus.Thatcomparisonwasalsoaprettygooddescriptionofhispersonality.

Thereporterclearedhisthroat,obviouslyabitnervous.“Letmestartoffbyaskingwhatyourreactionistotheeventsofthelasttwenty-fourhours.WereyousurprisedtoseethosenamesappearonHalliday’sScoreboard?”

“Surprised?Yes,alittle,Isuppose.But‘excited’isprobablyabetterword.Likeeveryoneelse,I’vebeenwatchingandwaitingforthistohappen.Ofcourse,Iwasn’tsureifI’dstillbealivewhenitfinallydid!I’mgladthatIam.It’sallveryexciting,isn’tit?”

“Doyouthinkthesetwogunters,ParzivalandArt3mis,areworkingtogether?”

“Ihavenoidea.Isupposeit’spossible.”

“Asyouknow,GregariousSimulationSystemskeepsallOASISuserrecordsconfidential,sowehavenowayofknowingtheirtrueidentities.Doyouthinkeitherofthemwillcomeforwardandrevealthemselvestothepublic?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd117

5/24/112:05PM

118:ErnestCline

“Notifthey’resmart,theywon’t,”Morrowsaid,adjustinghiswire-rimmedspectacles.“IfIwereintheirshoes,I’ddoeverythingpossibletoremainanonymous.”

“Whydoyousaythat?”

“Becauseoncetheworlddiscoverswhotheyreallyare,they’llneverhaveamoment’speaceafterward.IfpeoplethinkyoucanhelpthemfindHalliday’segg,they’llneverleaveyoualone.Trustme,Iknowfromexperience.”

“Yes,Isupposeyoudo.”Thereporterflashedafakesmile.“However,thisnetworkhascontactedbothParzivalandArt3misviae-mail,andwe’veextendedgenerousmonetaryofferstoeachoftheminreturnforanexclusiveinterview,eitherintheOASISorhereintherealworld.”

“I’msurethey’rereceivingmanysuchoffers.ButIdoubtthey’llaccept,”Morrowsaid.Thenhelookedstraightintothecamera,andIfeltasifhewasnowspeakingdirectlytome.“Anyonesmartenoughtoaccomplishwhattheyhaveshouldknowbetterthantoriskeverythingbytalkingtothevulturesinthemedia.”

Thereporterchuckleduncomfortably.“Ah,Mr.Morrow...Ireallydon’tthinkthat’scalledfor.”

Morrowshrugged.“Toobad.Ido.”

Thereporterclearedhisthroatagain.“Well,movingon...DoyouhaveanypredictionsaboutwhatchangeswemightseeontheScoreboardintheweekstocome?”

“I’mbettingthatthoseothereightemptyslotswillfillupprettyquickly.”

“Whatmakesyouthinkso?”

“Onepersoncankeepasecret,butnottwo,”hereplied,staringdirectlyintothecameraagain.“Idon’tknow.MaybeI’mwrong.ButIamsureofonething.TheSixersaregoingtouseeverydirtytrickattheirdisposaltolearnthelocationoftheCopperKeyandtheFirstGate.”

“You’rereferringtotheemployeesofInnovativeOnlineIndustries?”

“Yes.IOI.TheSixers.TheirsolepurposeistoexploitloopholesinthecontestrulesandsubverttheintentionofJim’swill.TheverysouloftheOASISisatstakehere.ThelastthingJimwouldhavewantedisforhiscreationtofallintothehandsofafascistmultinationalconglomeratelikeIOI.”

“Mr.Morrow,IOIownsthisnetwork....”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd118

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:119

“Ofcoursetheydo!”Morrowshoutedgleefully.“Theyownpracticallyeverything!Includingyou,prettyboy!Imean,didtheytattooaUPCcodeonyourasswhentheyhiredyoutositthereandspouttheircorporatepropaganda?”

Thereporterbegantostutter,glancingnervouslyatsomethingoffcamera.

“Quick!”Morrowsaid.“YoubettercutmeoffbeforeIsayanythingelse!”Hebrokeupintogalesoflaughterjustasthenetworkcuthissatellitefeed.

Thereportertookafewsecondstoregroup,thensaid,“Thankyouagainforjoiningustoday,Mr.Morrow.Unfortunatelythat’sallthetimewehavetospeakwithhim.Nowlet’sgobacktoJudy,whoisstandingbywithapanelofrenownedHallidayscholars—”

Ismiledandclosedthevidfeedwindow,ponderingtheoldman’sadvice.I’dalwayssuspectedthatMorrowknewmoreaboutthecontestthanhewaslettingon.

MorrowandHallidayhadgrownuptogether,foundedacompanytogether,andchangedtheworldtogether.ButMorrowhadledaverydifferentlifefromHalliday’s—oneinvolvingamuchgreaterconnectiontohumanity.Andagreat

dealmoretragedy.

Duringthemid-’90s,backwhenGregariousSimulationSystemswasstilljustGregariousGames,Morrowhadmarriedhishigh-schoolsweetheart,KiraUnderwood.KirawasbornandraisedinLondon.(HerbirthnamewasKaren,butshe’dinsistedonbeingcalledKiraeversinceherfirstviewingofTheDarkCrystal.)Morrowmetherwhenshespentherjunioryearasanexchangestudentathishighschool.Inhisautobiography,Morrowwrotethatshewasthe“quintessentialgeekgirl,”unabashedlyobsessedwithMontyPython,comicbooks,fantasynovels,andvideogames.SheandMorrowsharedafewclassesatschool,andhewassmittenwithheralmostimmediately.HeinvitedhertoattendhisweeklyDungeons&Dragonsgamingsessions(justashe’ddonewithHallidayafewyearsearlier),andtohissurprise,sheaccepted.“Shebecamethelonefemaleinourweeklygaminggroup,”Morrowwrote.“Andeverysingleoneoftheguysdevelopedamassivecrushonher,includingJim.Shewasactuallytheonewhogavehimthenickname‘Anorak,’aBritishslangtermClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd119

5/24/112:05PM

120:ErnestCline

foranobsessivegeek.IthinkJimadopteditasthenameofhisDandD

charactertoimpressher.Ormaybeitwashiswayoftryingtoletherknowhewasinonthejoke.TheoppositesexmadeJimextremelynervous,andKirawastheonlygirlIeversawhimspeaktoinarelaxedmanner.Buteventhen,itwasonlyincharacter,asAnorak,duringthecourseofourgamingsessions.AndhewouldonlyaddressherasLeucosia,thenameofherDandDcharacter.”

OgdenandKirabegandating.Bytheendoftheschoolyear,whenitwastimeforhertoreturnhometoLondon,thetwoofthemhadopenlydeclaredtheirloveforeachother.Theykeptintouchduringtheirremainingyearofschoolbye-mailingeveryday,usinganearlypre-InternetcomputerbulletinboardnetworkcalledFidoNet.Whentheybothgraduatedfromhighschool,KirareturnedtotheStates,movedinwithMorrow,andbecameoneofGregariousGames’firstemployees.(Forthefirsttwoyears,shewastheirentireartdepartment.)TheygotengagedafewyearsafterthelaunchoftheOASIS.Theyweremarrieda

yearlater,atwhichtimeKiraresignedfromherpositionasanartisticdirectoratGSS.

(Shewasamillionairenowtoo,thankstohercompanystockoptions.)MorrowstayedonatGSSforfivemoreyears.Then,inthesummerof2022,heannouncedhewasleavingthecompany.Atthetime,heclaimeditwasfor“personalreasons.”Butyearslater,Morrowwroteinhisautobiographythathe’dleftGSSbecause“wewerenolongerinthevideogamebusiness,”andbecausehefeltthattheOASIShadevolvedintosomethinghorrible.“Ithadbecomeaself-imposedprisonforhumanity,”hewrote.

“Apleasantplacefortheworldtohidefromitsproblemswhilehumancivilizationslowlycollapses,primarilyduetoneglect.”

RumorsalsosurfacedthatMorrowhadchosentoleavebecausehe’dhadahugefalling-outwithHalliday.Neitherofthemwouldconfirmordenytheserumors,andnooneseemedtoknowwhatsortofdisputehadendedtheirlongfriendship.ButsourceswithinthecompanysaidthatatthetimeofMorrow’sresignation,heandHallidayhadnotspokentoeachotherdirectlyinseveralyears.Evenso,whenMorrowleftGSS,hesoldhisentireshareofthecompanydirectlytoHalliday,foranundis-closedsum.

OgdenandKira“retired”totheirhomeinOregonandstartedanon-profiteducationalsoftwarecompany,HalcydoniaInteractive,whichcreatedfreeinteractiveadventuregamesforkids.I’dgrownupplayingtheseClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd120

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:121

games,allofwhichweresetinthemagicalkingdomofHalcydonia.Morrow’sgameshadtransportedmeoutofmygrimsurroundingsasalonelykidgrowingupinthestacks.They’dalsotaughtmehowtodomathandsolvepuzzleswhilebuildingmyself-esteem.Inaway,theMorrowswereamongmyveryfirstteachers.

Forthenextdecade,OgdenandKiraenjoyedapeaceful,happyexistence,living

andworkinginrelativeseclusion.Theytriedtohavechildren,butitwasn’tinthecardsforthem.They’dbeguntoconsideradoptionwhen,inthewinterof2034,Kirawaskilledinacaraccidentonanicymountainroadjustafewmilesfromtheirhome.

Afterthat,OgdencontinuedtorunHalcydoniaInteractiveonhisown.

HemanagedtostayoutofthelimelightuntilthemorningofHalliday’sdeath,whenhishomewasbesiegedbythemedia.AsHalliday’sformerclosestfriend,everyoneassumedhealonecouldexplainwhythedeceasedbillionairehadputhisentirefortuneupforgrabs.Morroweventuallyheldapressconferencejusttogeteveryoneoffhisback.Itwasthelasttimehe’dspokentothemedia,untiltoday.I’dwatchedthevideoofthatpressconferencemany,manytimes.

Morrowhadbegunitbyreadingabriefstatement,sayingthathehadn’tseenorspokentoHallidayinoveradecade.“Wehadafalling-out,”hesaid,“andthatissomethingIrefusetodiscuss,noworinthefuture.Sufficeittosay,IhavenotcommunicatedwithJamesHallidayinovertenyears.”

“ThenwhydidHallidayleaveyouhisvastcollectionofclassiccoin-operatedvideogames?”areporterasked.“Allofhisothermaterialpossessionsaretobeauctionedoff.Ifyouwerenolongerfriends,whyareyoutheonlypersonheleftanythingto?”

“Ihavenoidea,”Morrowsaidsimply.

AnotherreporteraskedMorrowifheplannedonlookingforHalliday’sEasteregghimself,sincehe’dknownHallidaysowellandwouldthereforeprobablyhaveabetterchancethananyoneoffindingit.MorrowremindedthereporterthatthecontestruleslaidoutinHalliday’swillstatedthatnoonewhohadeverworkedforGregariousSimulationSystems,oranyoneintheirimmediatefamilies,waseligibletotakepartinthecontest.

“DidyouhaveanyideawhatHallidaywasworkingonallthoseyearshewasinseclusion?”anotherreporterasked.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd121

5/24/112:05PM

122:ErnestCline

“No.Isuspectedhemightbeworkingonsomenewgame.Jimwasalwaysworkingonanewgame.Forhim,makinggameswasasnecessaryasbreathing.ButIneverimaginedhewasplanningsomething...ofthismagnitude.”

“AsthepersonwhoknewJamesHallidaythebest,doyouhaveanyadviceforthemillionsofpeoplewhoarenowsearchingforhisEasteregg?

Wheredoyouthinkpeopleshouldstartlookingforit?”

“IthinkJimmadethatprettyobvious,”Morrowreplied,tappingafingeragainsthistemple,justasHallidayhadintheAnorak’sInvitationvideo.“Jimalwayswantedeveryonetosharehisobsessions,tolovethesamethingsheloved.Ithinkthiscontestishiswayofgivingtheentireworldanincentivetodojustthat.”

IclosedmyfileonMorrowandcheckedmye-mail.ThesysteminformedmethatI’dreceivedovertwomillionnewunsolicitedmessages.Thesewereautomaticallyfiledinaseparatefolder,soIcouldsortthroughthemlater.Onlytwonewmessageswereleftinmyinbox,frompeopleonmyauthorizedcontactlist.OnewasfromAech.TheotherwasfromArt3mis.

IopenedAech’smessagefirst.Itwasvidmail,andhisavatar’sfaceappearedinawindow.“Holyshit!”heshouted.“Idon’tbelievethis!Nowyou’veclearedthemotherfuckingFirstGateandyoustillhaven’tphonedme?Callmyass!Now!Thesecondyougetthis!”

IconsideredwaitingafewdaystocallAechbackbutquicklyabandonedthatidea.Ineededtotalktosomeoneaboutallthis,andAechwasmybestfriend.IftherewasanyoneIcouldtrust,itwashim.

Hepickeduponthefirstring,andhisavatarappearedinanewwindowinfrontofme.“Youdog!”heshouted.“Youbrilliant,sly,deviousdog!”

“Hey,Aech,”Isaid,tryingtodeadpanit.“What’snew?”

“What’snew?What’snew?Youmean,otherthan,youknow,seeingmybestfriend’snameappearatthetopoftheScoreboard?Otherthanthat,youmean?”Heleanedforwardsothathismouthcompletelyfilledthevidfeedwindowandshouted,“Otherthanthat,notmuch!Notmuchnewatall!”

Ilaughed.“Sorryittookmeawhiletocallyou.Ihadkindofalatenight.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd122

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:123

“Noshit,youhadalatenight!”hesaid.“Lookatyou!Howcanyoubesocalm!Don’tyourealizewhatthismeans?Thisishuge!Thisisbeyondepic!Imean...congratu-freakin’-lations,man!”Hebegantobowrepeatedly.“Iamnotworthy!”

“Cutitout,OK?It’sreallynotabigdeal.Ihaven’tactuallywonanythingyet....”

“Notabigdeal!”hecried.“Not.A.Big.Deal?Areyoukiddingme?

You’realegendnow,man!YoujustbecamethefirstgunterinhistorytofindtheCopperKey!AndcleartheFirstGate!Youareagod,fromthismomentforth!Doyounotrealizethis,fool?”

“Seriously.Stopit.I’malreadyfreakedoutenoughasitis.”

“Haveyouseenthenews?Thewholeworldisfreakingout!Andthegunterboardsaregoingapeshit!Andeveryoneistalkingaboutyou,amigo.”

“Iknow.Listen,Ihopeyou’renotpissedatmeforkeepingyouinthedark.IfeltreallyweirdaboutnotreturningyourcallsortellingyouwhatIwasupto....”

“Oh,comeon!”Herolledhiseyesdismissively.“YouknowdamnwellthatifI’dbeeninyourshoes,Iwouldhavedonethesamething.That’showthegameisplayed.But”—histonegrewmoreserious—“Iamcurioustoknowhowthat

Art3mischickhappenedtofindtheCopperKeyandclearthegaterightafteryoudid.Everyoneseemstothinkyoutwowereworkingtogether,butIknowthat’shorseshit.Sowhathappened?

Wasshefollowingyouorsomething?”

Ishookmyhead.“No,shefoundthekey’shidingplacebeforeIdid.

Lastmonth,shesaid.Shejustwasn’tabletoobtainthekeyuntilnow.”

Iwassilentforasecond.“Ican’treallygointothedetailswithout,youknow—”

Aechheldupbothhands.“Noworries.Itotallyunderstand.Iwouldn’twantforyoutoaccidentallydropanyhints.”HeflashedhistrademarkCheshiregrin,andhisgleamingwhiteteethseemedtotakeuphalfofthevidfeedwindow.“Actually,IshouldletyouknowwhereIamrightnow....”

Headjustedhisvidfeed’svirtualcamerasothatitpulledbackfromatightshotofhisfacetoamuchwidershotthatrevealedwherehewas—

standingnexttotheflat-toppedhill,justoutsidetheentrancetotheTombofHorrors.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd123

5/24/112:05PM

124:ErnestCline

Myjawdropped.“Howinthehell—?”

“Well,whenIsawyournamealloverthenewsfeedslastnight,itoccurredtomethatforaslongasI’veknownyou,you’veneverhadthedoughtodomuchtraveling.Anytraveling,really.SoIfiguredthatifyou’dfoundthehidingplaceoftheCopperKey,itprobablyhadtobesomewhereclosetoLudus.OrmaybeevenonLudus.”

“Welldone,”Isaid,andImeantit.

“Notreally.Ispenthoursrackingmypea-sizedbrainbeforeIfinallythoughttosearchthemapofLudusforthesurfacefeaturesdescribedintheTombofHorrorsmodule.ButonceIdid,everythingelseclickedintoplace.AndhereIam.”

“Congratulations.”

“Yeah,well,itwasprettyeasyonceyoupointedmeintherightdirection.”Heglancedbackoverhisshoulderatthetomb.“I’vebeensearchingforthisplaceforyears,andallthistimeitwaswithinwalkingdistanceofmyschool!Ifeellikeatotalmoronfornotfiguringitoutonmyown.”

“You’renotamoron,”Isaid.“YoudecipheredtheLimerickonyourown,otherwiseyouwouldn’tevenknowabouttheTombofHorrorsmodule,right?”

“So,you’renotpissed?”hesaid.“ThatItookadvantageofmyinsideinfo?”

Ishookmyhead.“Noway.Iwouldhavedonethesamething.”

“Well,regardless,Ioweyouone.AndIwon’tforgetit.”

Inoddedtowardthetombbehindhim.“Haveyoubeeninsideyet?”

“Yeah.Icamebackupheretocallyou,whileIwaitfortheservertoresetatmidnight.Thetombisemptyrightnow,becauseyourfriend,Art3mis,alreadyblewthroughhereearliertoday.”

“We’renotfriends,”Isaid.“Shejustshowedup,afewminutesafterIgotthekey.”

“Didyouguysthrowdown?”

“No.Thetombisano-PvPzone.”Iglancedatthetime.“Lookslikeyou’vestillgotafewhourstokillbeforethereset.”

“Yeah.I’vebeenstudyingtheoriginalDandDmodule,tryingtopreparemyself,”hesaid.“Wannagivemeanytips?”

Igrinned.“No.Notreally.”

“Didn’tthinkso.”Hewassilentforafewseconds.“Listen,IhavetoaskClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd124

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:125

yousomething,”hesaid.“Doesanyoneatyourschoolknowyouravatar’sname?”

“No.I’vebeencarefultokeepitasecret.NoonethereknowsmeasParzival.Noteventheteachers.”

“Good,”hesaid.“Itookthesameprecaution.Unfortunately,severalofthegunterswhofrequenttheBasementknowthatwebothattendschoolonLudus,sotheymightbeabletoconnectthedots.I’mworriedaboutoneinparticular....”

Ifeltarushofpanic.“I-r0k?”

Aechnodded.“He’sbeencallingmenonstopsinceyournameappearedontheScoreboard,askingwhatIknow.Iplayeddumb,andheseemedtobuyit.ButifmynameshowsupontheScoreboardtoo,youcanbethe’llstartbraggingthatheknowsus.AndwhenhestartstellingotherguntersthatyouandIarebothstudentsonLudus—”

“Shit!”Icursed.“TheneverygunterinthesimwillbeheadedheretosearchfortheCopperKey.”

“Right,”Aechsaid.“Andbeforelong,thelocationofthetombwillbecommonknowledge.”

Isighed.“Well,thenyoubettergetthekeybeforethathappens.”

“I’lldomybest.”HeheldupacopyoftheTombofHorrorsmodule.

“Now,ifyou’llexcuseme,I’mgoingtorereadthisthingforthehundredthtimetoday.”

“Goodluck,Aech,”Isaid.“Givemeacallonceyou’veclearedthegate.”

“IfIclearthegate...”

“Youwill,”Isaid.“Andwhenyoudo,weshouldmeetintheBasementtotalk.”

“Yougotit,amigo.”

Hewavedgood-byeandwasabouttoendthecallwhenIspokeup.

“Hey,Aech?”

“Yeah?”

“Youmightwanttobrushuponyourjoustingskills,”Isaid.“Youknow,betweennowandmidnight.”

Helookedpuzzledforamoment;thenasmileofunderstandingspreadacrosshisface.“Igotya,”hesaid.“Thanks,pal.”

“Goodluck.”

Ashisvidfeedwindowwinkedout,IfoundmyselfwonderinghowAechandIwouldremainfriendsthrougheverythingthatlayahead.Nei-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd125

5/24/112:05PM

126:ErnestCline

therofuswantedtoworkasateam,sofromhereonoutwewouldbeindirectcompetitionwitheachother.WouldIeventuallyregrethelpinghimtoday?OrcometoresentthatI’dunwittinglyledhimtotheCopperKey’shidingplace?

Ipushedthesethoughtsasideandopenedthee-mailfromArt3mis.Itwasanold-fashionedtextmessage.

DearParzival,

Congrats!See?You’refamousnow,justlikeIsaid.Althoughitlookslikewe’vebothbeenthrustintothelimelight.Kindascary,eh?

Thanksforthetipaboutplayingontheleftside.Youwereright.Somehow,thatdidthetrick.Butdon’tgothinkingIoweyouanyfavors,mister.:-)TheFirstGatewasprettywild,wasn’tit?NotatallwhatIexpected.ItwouldhavebeencoolifHallidayhadgivenmetheoptiontoplayAllySheedyinstead,butwhatcanyoudo?

Thisnewriddleisarealhead-scratcher,isn’tit?Ihopeitdoesn’ttakeusanotherfiveyearstodecipherit.

Anyhow,Ijustwantedtosaythatitwasanhonortomeetyou.Ihopeourpathscrossagainsoon.

Sincerely,

Art3mis

ps—Enjoybeing#1whileyoucan,pal.Itwon’tlastforlong.

Irereadhermessageseveraltimes,grinninglikeadopeyschoolboy.

ThenItypedoutmyreply:

DearArt3mis,

Congratulationstoyou,too.Youweren’tkidding.Competitionclearlybringsoutthebestinyou.

You’rewelcomeforthetipaboutplayingontheleft.Youtotallyowemeafavornow.;-)Thenewriddleisacinch.IthinkI’vealreadygotitfiguredout,actually.What’sthehold-uponyourend?

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd126

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:127

Itwasanhonortomeetyou,too.Ifyoueverfeellikehangingoutinachatroom,letmeknow.

MTFBWYA,

Parzival

ps—Areyouchallengingme?Bringthepain,woman.

Afterrewritingitafewdozentimes,ItappedtheSendbutton.ThenIpulledupmyscreenshotoftheJadeKeyriddleandbegantostudyit,syllablebysyllable.ButIcouldn’tseemtoconcentrate.NomatterhowhardItriedtofocus,mymindkeptdriftingbacktoArt3mis.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd127

5/24/112:05PM

AechclearedtheFirstGateearlythenextday.

HisnameappearedontheScoreboardinthirdplace,withascoreof108,000points.ThevalueofobtainingtheCopperKeyhaddroppedanother1,000pointsforhim,butthevalueofclearingtheFirstGateremainedunchangedat100,000.

Ireturnedtoschoolthatsamemorning.I’dconsideredcallinginsick,butwasconcernedthatmyabsencemightraisesuspicions.WhenIgotthere,IrealizedIshouldn’thaveworried.DuetothesuddenrenewedinterestintheHunt,overhalfofthestudentbody,andquiteafewoftheteachers,didn’tbothershowingup.SinceeveryoneatschoolknewmyavatarbythenameWade3,noonepaidanyattentiontome.Roamingthehallsunnoticed,IdecidedthatIenjoyedhavingasecretidentity.ItmademefeellikeClarkKentorPeterParker.Ithoughtmydadwouldprobablyhavegottenakickoutofthat.

Thatafternoon,I-r0ksente-mailstoAechandme,attemptingtoblackmailus.Hesaidthatifwedidn’ttellhimhowtofindtheCopperKeyandtheFirstGate,hewouldpostwhatheknewaboutustoeveryguntermessageboardhecouldfi

nd.Whenwerefused,hemadegoodonhisthreatandbegantellinganyonewhowouldlistenthatAechandIwerebothstudentsonLudus.Ofcourse,hehadnowayofprovinghereallyknewus,andbythattimetherewerehundredsofotherguntersclaim-ingtobeourclosepersonalfriends,soAechandIwerehopinghispostswouldgounnoticed.Buttheydidn’t,ofcourse.Atleasttwoothergunt-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd128

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:129

ersweresharpenoughtoconnectthedotsbetweenLudus,theLimerick,andtheTombofHorrors.ThedayafterI-r0kletthecatoutofthebag,thename“Daito”appearedinthefourthslotontheScoreboard.Then,lessthanfifteenminuteslater,thename“Shoto”appearedinthefifthslot.

Somehow,they’dbothobtainedacopyoftheCopperKeyonthesameday,withoutwaitingfortheservertoresetatmidnight.Then,afewhourslater,bothDaitoandShotoclearedtheFirstGate.

Noonehadeverheardoftheseavatarsbefore,buttheirnamesseemedtoindicatetheywereworkingtogether,eitherasaduooraspartofaclan.

ShotoanddaitoweretheJapanesenamesfortheshortandlongswordswornbysamurai.Whenwornasaset,thetwoswordswerecalleddaisho,andthisquicklybecamethenicknamebywhichthetwoofthemwereknown.

OnlyfourdayshadpassedsincemynamehadfirstappearedontheScoreboard,andonenewnamehadappearedbelowmineoneachsubsequentday.Thesecretwasoutnow,andthehuntseemedtobeshiftingintohighgear.

Allweek,Iwasunabletofocusonanythingmyteachersweresaying.Luckily,Ionlyhadtwomonthsofschoolleft,andI’dalreadyearnedenoughcreditstograduate,evenifIcoastedfromhereonout.SoIdriftedfromoneclasstothenextinadaze,puzzlingovertheJadeKeyriddle,recitingitagainandagaininmymind.

AccordingtomyEnglishLittextbook,apoemwithfourlinesoftextandanalternate-linerhymeschemewasknownasaquatrain,sothatbecamemynicknamefortheriddle.Eachnightafterschool,IloggedoutoftheOASISandfilledtheblankpagesofmygraildiarywithpossibleinterpretationsoftheQuatrain.

What“captain”wasAnoraktalkingabout?CaptainKangaroo?CaptainAmerica?CaptainBuckRogersinthetwenty-fifthcentury?

Andwhereinthehellwasthis“dwellinglongneglected”?Thatpartoftheclueseemedmaddeninglynonspecific.Halliday’sboyhoodhomeonClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd129

5/24/112:05PM

130:ErnestCline

Middletowncouldn’treallybeclassifiedas“neglected,”butmaybehewastalkingaboutadifferenthouseinhishometown?Thatseemedtooeasy,andtooclosetothehidingplaceoftheCopperKey.

Atfirst,IthoughttheneglecteddwellingmightbeareferencetoRevengeoftheNerds,oneofHalliday’sfavoritefilms.Inthatmovie,thenerdsofthetitlerentadilapidatedhouseandfixitup(duringaclassic

’80smusicmontage).Ivisitedare-creationoftheRevengeoftheNerdshouseontheplanetSkolnickandspentadaysearchingit,butitprovedtobeadeadend.

ThelasttwolinesoftheQuatrainwerealsoacompletemystery.Theyseemedtosaythatonceyoufoundtheneglecteddwelling,youwouldhavetocollecta

bunchof“trophies”andthenblowsomekindofwhistle.Ordidthatlinemeanblowthewhistleinthecolloquialsense,asin“torevealasecretoralertsomeonetoacrime”?Eitherway,itdidn’tmakeanysensetome.ButIcontinuedtogoovereachline,wordbyword,untilmybrainbegantofeellikeAquafreshtoothpaste.

ThatFridayafterschool,thedayDaitoandShotoclearedtheFirstGate,Iwassittinginasecludedspotafewmilesfrommyschool,asteephillwithasolitarytreeatthetop.Ilikedtocomeheretoread,todomyhomework,ortosimplyenjoytheviewofthesurroundinggreenfields.Ididn’thaveaccesstothatkindofviewintherealworld.

AsIsatunderthetree,Isortedthroughthemillionsofmessagesstillcloggingmyinbox.I’dbeensiftingthroughthemallweek.I’dreceivednotesfrompeopleallovertheglobe.Lettersofcongratulation.Pleasforhelp.Deaththreats.Interviewrequests.Severallong,incoherentdiatribesfromgunterswhosequestfortheegghadclearlydriventheminsane.I’dalsoreceivedinvitationstojoinfourofthebiggestgunterclans:theOviraptors,ClanDestiny,theKeyMasters,andTeamBanzai.Itoldeachofthemthanks,butnothanks.

WhenIgottiredofreadingmy“fanmail,”Isortedoutallthemessagesthatweretaggedas“businessrelated”andbeganreadingthroughthose.

IdiscoveredthatI’dreceivedseveraloffersfrommoviestudiosandbookpublishers,allinterestedinbuyingtherightstomylifestory.Ideletedthemall,becauseI’ddecidednevertorevealmytrueidentitytotheworld.

Atleast,notuntilafterIfoundtheegg.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd130

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:131

I’dalsoreceivedseveralendorsement-dealoffersfromcompanieswhowanted

touseParzival’snameandfacetoselltheirservicesandproducts.

AnelectronicsretailerwasinterestedinusingmyavatartopromotetheirlineofOASISimmersionhardwaresotheycouldsell“Parzival-approved”

hapticrigs,gloves,andvisors.Ialsohadoffersfromapizza-deliverychain,ashoemanufacturer,andanonlinestorethatsoldcustomavatarskins.TherewasevenatoycompanythatwantedtomanufacturealineofParzivallunchboxesandactionfigures.ThesecompanieswereofferingtopaymeinOASIScredits,whichwouldbetransferreddirectlytomyavatar’saccount.

Icouldn’tbelievemyluck.

Irepliedtoeverysingleoneoftheendorsementinquires,sayingthatIwouldaccepttheiroffersunderthefollowingconditions:Iwouldn’thavetorevealmytrueidentity,andIwouldonlydobusinessthroughmyOASISavatar.

Istartedreceivingreplieswithinthehour,withcontractsattached.

Icouldn’taffordtohavealawyerlookthemover,buttheyallexpiredwithinayear’stime,soIjustwentaheadandsignedthemelectronicallyande-mailedthembackalongwithathree-dimensionalmodelofmyavatar,tobeusedforthecommercials.Ialsoreceivedrequestsforanaudioclipofmyavatar’svoice,soIsentthemasynthesizedclipofadeepbari-tonethatmademesoundlikeoneofthoseguyswhodidvoice-oversformovietrailers.

Oncetheyreceivedeverything,myavatar’snewsponsorsinformedmethatthey’dwiremyfirstroundofpaymentstomyOASISaccountwithinthenextforty-eighthours.TheamountofmoneyIwasgoingtoreceivewouldn’tbeenoughtomakemerich.Notbyalongshot.Buttoakidwho’dgrownupwithnothing,itseemedlikeafortune.

Ididsomequickcalculations.IfIlivedfrugally,Iwouldhaveenoughtomoveoutofthestacksandrentasmallefficiencyapartmentsomewhere.Forayear,atleast.Theverythoughtfilledmewithnervousexcitement.I’ddreamedofescapingthestacksforaslongasIcouldremember,andnowitappearedthatdreamwasabouttocometrue.

Withtheendorsementdealstakencareof,Icontinuedtosortthroughmye-mailmessages.WhenIsortedtheremainingmessagesbysender,IdiscoveredthatI’d

receivedoverfivethousande-mailsfromInnovativeOnlineIndustries.Actually,they’dsentmefivethousandcopiesoftheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd131

5/24/112:05PM

132:ErnestCline

samee-mail.They’dbeenresendingthesamemessageallweek,sincemynamefirstappearedontheScoreboard.Andtheywerestillresendingit,onceeveryminute.

TheSixersweremail-bombingme,tomakesuretheygotmyattention.

Thee-mailswereallmarkedMaximumPriority,withthesubjectlineurgentbusinessproposition—pleasereadimmediately!

ThesecondIopenedone,adeliveryconfirmationwassentbacktoIOI,lettingthemknowthatIwasfinallyreadingtheirmessage.Afterthat,theystoppedresendingit.

DearParzival,

First,allowmetocongratulateyouonyourrecentaccomplishments,whichweatInnovativeOnlineIndustriesholdinthehighestregard.

OnbehalfofIOI,Iwishtomakeyouahighlylucrativebusinessproposition,theexactdetailsofwhichwecandiscussinaprivatechatlinksession.Pleaseusetheattachedcontactcardtoreachmeatyourearliestconvenience,regardlessofthedayorhour.

Givenourreputationwithintheguntercommunity,Iwouldunderstandifyouwerehesitanttospeakwithme.However,pleasebeawarethatifyouchoosenottoacceptourproposal,weintendtoapproacheachofyourcompetitors.Attheveryleast,wehopeyou’lldousthehonorofbeingthefirsttohearourgenerousoffer.Whathaveyougottolose?

Thankyouforyourkindattention.Ilookforwardtospeakingwithyou.

Sincerely,

NolanSorrento

HeadofOperations

InnovativeOnlineIndustries

Despitethemessage’sreasonabletone,thethreatbehinditwascrystalclear.TheSixerswantedtorecruitme.OrtheywantedtopaymetotellthemhowtofindtheCopperKeyandcleartheFirstGate.AndifIrefused,theywouldgoafterArt3mis,thenAech,Daito,Shoto,andeveryothergunterwhomanagedtogettheirnameupontheScoreboard.Theseshamelesscorporatesleazebagswouldn’tstopuntiltheyfoundsomeonedumbenoughordesperateenoughgiveinandsellthemtheinformationtheyneeded.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd132

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:133

Myfirstimpulsewastodeleteeverysinglecopyofthee-mailandpretendI’dneverreceivedit,butIchangedmymind.IwantedtoknowexactlywhatIOIwasgoingtooffer.AndIcouldn’tpassupthechancetomeetNolanSorrento,theSixers’infamousleader.Therewasnodangermeetingwithhimviachatlink,aslongasIwascarefulaboutwhatIsaid.

IconsideredteleportingtoIncipiobeforemy“interview,”tobuyanewskinformyavatar.Maybeatailoredsuit.Somethingflashyandexpensive.

ButthenIthoughtbetterofit.Ihadnothingtoprovetothatcorporateasshat.Afterall,Iwasfamousnow.Iwouldrollintothemeetingwearingmydefaultskinandafuck-offattitude.Iwouldlistentotheiroffer,thentellthemtokissmysimulatedass.MaybeI’drecordthewholethingandpostitonYouTube.

IpreppedforthemeetingbypullingupasearchengineandlearningeverythingIcouldaboutNolanSorrento.HehadaPhDinComputerScience.Priorto

becomingheadofoperationsatIOI,he’dbeenahigh-profilegamedesigner,overseeingthecreationofseveralthird-partyRPGsthatraninsidetheOASIS.I’dplayedallofhisgames,andtheywereactuallyprettygood.He’dbeenadecentcoder,backbeforehesoldhissoul.

ItwasobviouswhyIOIhadhiredhimtoleadtheirlackeys.TheyfiguredagamedesignerwouldhavethebestchanceofsolvingHalliday’sgrandvideogamepuzzle.ButSorrentoandtheSixershadbeenatitforoverfiveyearsandstillhadnothingtoshowfortheirefforts.AndnowthatgunteravatarnameswereappearingontheScoreboardleftandright,theIOIbrasshadtobefreakingout.Sorrentowasprobablycatchingallkindsofheatfromhissuperiors.IwonderedifithadbeenSorrento’sideatotrytorecruitme,orifhe’dbeenorderedtodoit.

OnceI’ddonemyhomeworkonSorrento,IfeltlikeIwasreadytositdownwiththedevil.IpulledupthecontactcardattachedtoSorrento’se-mailandtappedthechatlinkinvitationiconatthebottom.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd133

5/24/112:05PM

AsIfinishedconnectingtothechatlinksession,myavatarmaterializedonagrandobservationdeckwithastunningviewofoveradozenOASISworldssuspendedinblackspacebeyondthecurvedwindow.Iappearedtobeonaspacestationoraverylargetransportship;Icouldn’ttellwhich.

Chatlinksessionsworkeddifferentlyfromchatrooms,andtheywerealotmoreexpensivetohost.Whenyouopenedachatlink,aninsubstantialcopyofyouravatarwasprojectedintoanotherOASISlocation.Youravatarwasn’tactuallythere,andsoitappearedtootheravatarsasaslightlytransparentapparition.Butyoucouldstillinteractwiththeenvironmentinalimitedway—walkingthroughdoors,sittinginchairs,andsoforth.

Chatlinkswereprimarilyusedforbusinesspurposes,whenacompanywantedtohostameetinginaspecificOASISlocationwithoutspendingthetimeand

moneytotransporteveryone’savatarstoit.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’deverusedone.

IturnedaroundandsawthatmyavatarwasstandinginfrontofalargeC-shapedreceptiondesk.TheIOIcorporatelogo—giant,overlappingchromeletterstwentyfeettall—floatedaboveit.AsIapproachedthedesk,animpossiblybeautifulblondereceptioniststoodtogreetme.“Mr.

Parzival,”shesaid,bowingslightly.“WelcometoInnovativeOnlineIndustries!Justamoment.Mr.Sorrentoisalreadyonhiswaytogreetyou.”

Iwasn’tsurehowthatcouldbe,sinceIhadn’twarnedthemIwascoming.WhileIwaited,Itriedtoactivatemyavatar’svidfeedrecorder,butClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd134

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:135

IOIhaddisabledrecordinginthischatlinksession.Theyobviouslydidn’twantmetohavevideoevidenceofwhatwasabouttogodown.SomuchformyplantoposttheinterviewonYouTube.

Lessthanaminutelater,anotheravatarappeared,throughasetofautomaticdoorsontheoppositesideoftheobservationdeck.Heheadedrightforme,bootsclickingonthepolishedfloor.ItwasSorrento.Irecognizedhimbecausehewasn’tusingastandard-issueSixeravatar—oneoftheperksofhisposition.Hisavatar’sfacematchedthephotosofhimI’dseenonline.Blondhairandbrowneyes,ahawkishnose.HedidwearthestandardSixeruniform—anavybluebodysuitwithgoldepaulettesattheshouldersandasilverIOIlogoonhisrightbreast,withhisemployeenumberprintedbeneathit:655321.

“Atlast!”hesaidashewalkedup,grinninglikeajackal.“ThefamousParzivalhasgraceduswithhispresence!”Heextendedaglovedrighthand.“NolanSorrento,chiefofoperations.It’sanhonortomeetyou.”

“Yeah,”Isaid,doingmybesttosoundaloof.“Likewise,Iguess.”Evenasachatlinkprojection,myavatarcouldstillmimeshakinghisoutstretchedhand.

InsteadIjuststareddownatitasifhewereofferingmeadeadrat.

Hedroppeditafterafewseconds,buthissmiledidn’tfalter.Itbroadened.

“Pleasefollowme.”Heledmeacrossthedeckandbackthroughtheautomaticdoors,whichslidopentorevealalargelaunchingbay.ItcontainedasingleinterplanetaryshuttlecraftemblazonedwiththeIOIlogo.

Sorrentobegantoboardit,butIhaltedatthefootoftheramp.

“Whybotherbringingmehereviaachatlink?”Iasked,motioningtothebayaroundus.“Whynotjustgivemeyoursalespitchinachatroom?”

“Please,indulgeme,”hesaid.“Thischatlinkispartofoursalespitch.

Wewanttogiveyouthesameexperienceyou’dhaveifyoucametovisitourheadquartersinperson.”

Right,Ithought.IfIhadcomehereinperson,myavatarwouldbesurroundedbythousandsofSixersandI’dbeatyourmercy.

Ijoinedhiminsidetheshuttle.Therampretractedandwelaunchedoutofthebay.Throughtheship’swraparoundwindowsIsawthatwewereleavingoneoftheSixers’orbitalspacestations.LoomingdirectlyaheadofuswastheplanetIOI-1,amassivechromeglobe.ItremindedmeofthekillerfloatingspheresinthePhantasmfilms.GuntersreferredtoIOI-1as“theSixerhomeworld.”Thecompanyhadconstructeditshortlyafterthecontestbegan,toserveasIOI’sonlinebaseofoperations.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd135

5/24/112:05PM

136:ErnestCline

Ourshuttle,whichseemedtobeflyingonautomaticpilot,quicklyreachedtheplanetandbegantoskimitsmirroredsurface.Istaredoutthewindowaswedidonecompleteorbit.AsfarasIknew,nogunterhadeverbeengiventhiskindof

Frompoletopole,IOI-1wascoveredwitharmories,bunkers,warehouses,andvehiclehangars.Ialsosawairfieldsdottingthesurface,whererowsofgleaminggunships,spacecraft,andmechanizedbattletanksstoodwaitingforaction.SorrentosaidnothingaswesurveyedtheSixerarmada.Hejustletmetakeitallin.

I’dseenscreenshotsofIOI-1’ssurfacebefore,butthey’dbeenlow-resandtakenfromhighorbit,justbeyondtheplanet’simpressivedefensegrid.ThelargerclanshadbeenopenlyplottingtonuketheSixerOperationsComplexforseveralyearsnow,butthey’dnevermanagedtogetpastthedefensegridorreachtheplanet’ssurface.

Aswecompletedourorbit,theIOIOperationsComplexswungintoviewaheadofus.Itconsistedofthreemirror-surfacedtowers—tworectangularskyscrapersoneithersideofacircularone.Seenfromabove,thesethreebuildingsformedtheIOIlogo.

TheshuttleslowedandhoveredabovetheO-shapedtower,thenspiraleddowntoasmalllandingpadontheroof.“Impressivedigs,wouldn’tyouagree?”Sorrentosaid,finallybreakinghissilenceaswetoucheddownandtheramplowered.

“Notbad.”Iwasproudofthecalminmyvoice.Intruth,IwasstillreelingfromeverythingI’djustseen.“ThisisanOASISreplicaoftherealIOItowerslocatedindowntownColumbus,right?”Isaid.

Sorrentonodded.“Yes,theColumbuscomplexisourcompanyheadquarters.Mostofmyteamworksinthiscentraltower.Ourcloseprox-imitytoGSSeliminatesanypossibilityofsystemlag.And,ofcourse,Columbusdoesn’tsufferfromtherollingpowerblackoutsthatplaguemostmajorU.S.cities.”

Hewasstatingtheobvious.GregariousSimulationSystemswaslocatedinColumbus,andsowastheirmainOASISservervault.Redundantmirrorserverswerelocatedallovertheworld,buttheywerealllinkedtothemainnodeinColumbus.Thiswaswhy,inthedecadessincethesimulation’slaunch,thecityhadbecomeakindofhigh-techMecca.ColumbuswaswhereanOASISusercouldgetthefastest,mostreliableconnectiontothesimulation.Mostguntersdreamedofmovingtheresomeday,meincluded.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd136

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:137

IfollowedSorrentoofftheshuttleandintoanelevatoradjacenttothelandingpad.“You’vebecomequitethecelebritythesepastfewdays,”hesaidaswebegantodescend.“Itmustbeveryexcitingforyou.Probablyalittlescary,too,huh?Knowingyounowpossessinformationthatmillionsofpeoplewouldbewillingtokillfor?”

I’dbeenwaitingforhimtosaysomethinglikethis,soIhadareplyprepared.“Doyoumindskippingthescaretacticsandtheheadgames?Justtellmethedetailsofyouroffer.Ihaveothermatterstoattendto.”

HegrinnedatmelikeIwasaprecociouschild.“Yes,I’msureyoudo,”

hesaid.“Butpleasedon’tjumptoanyconclusionsaboutouroffer.Ithinkyou’llbequitesurprised.”Then,withasuddentouchofsteelinhistone,headded,“Infact,I’mcertainofit.”

DoingmybesttohidetheintimidationIfelt,Irolledmyeyesandsaid,

“Whatever,man.”

Atonesoundedaswereachedthe106thfloor,andtheelevatordoorsswishedopen.IfollowedSorrentopastanotherreceptionistanddownalong,brightlylitcorridor.Thedecorwassomethingoutofautopiansci-fiflick.High-techandimmaculate.WepassedseveralotherSixeravatarsaswewalked,andthemomenttheysawSorrento,theyeachsnappedtorigidattentionandsalutedhim,asifheweresomehigh-rankinggeneral.

Sorrentodidn’treturnthesesalutesoracknowledgehisunderlingsinanyway.

Eventually,heledmeintoahugeopenroomthatappearedtooccupymostofthe106thfloor.Itcontainedavastseaofhigh-walledcubicles,eachcontainingasinglepersonstrappedintoahigh-endimmersionrig.

“WelcometoIOI’sOologyDivision,”Sorrentosaidwithobviouspride.

“So,thisisSux0rzCentral,eh?”Isaid,glancingaround.

“There’snoneedtoberude,”Sorrentosaid.“Thiscouldbeyourteam.”

“WouldIgetmyveryowncubicle?”

“No.You’dhaveyourownoffice,withaveryniceview.”Hegrinned.

“Notthatyou’dspendmuchtimelookingatit.”

ImotionedtooneofthenewHabashawimmersionrigs.“Nicegear,”Isaid.Itreallywas,too.State-of-the-art.

“Yes,itisnice,isn’tit?”hesaid.“Ourimmersionrigsareheavilymodified,andthey’reallnetworkedtogether.Oursystemsallowmultipleoperatorstocontrolanyoneofouroologist’savatars.Sodependingontheobstaclesanavatarencountersduringtheirquest,controlcanbeinstantlyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd137

5/24/112:05PM

138:ErnestCline

transferredtotheteammemberwiththeskillsbestsuitedtodealwiththesituation.”

“Yeah,butthat’scheating,”Isaid.

“Oh,comeonnow,”hesaid,rollinghiseyes.“There’snosuchthing.

Halliday’scontestdoesn’thaveanyrules.That’soneofthemanycolossalmistakestheoldfoolmade.”BeforeIcouldreply,Sorrentostartedwalkingagain,leadingmeonthroughthemazeofcubicles.“Allofouroologistsarevoice-linkedtoasupportteam,”hecontinued.“ComposedofHallidayscholars,videogameexperts,pop-culturehistorians,andcryptologists.Theyallworktogethertohelpeachofouravatarsovercomeanychallengeandsolveevery

puzzletheyencounter.”Heturnedandgrinnedatme.“Asyoucansee,we’vecoveredallthebases,Parzival.That’swhywe’regoingtowin.”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Youguyshavebeendoingabang-upjobsofar.Bravo.

Now,whyisitthatwe’retalkingagain?Oh,right.YouguyshavenocluewheretheCopperKeyis,andyouneedmyhelptofindit.”

Sorrentonarrowedhiseyes;thenhebegantolaugh.“Ilikeyou,kid,”

hesaid,grinningatme.“You’rebright.Andyou’vegotcojones.TwoqualitiesIgreatlyadmire.”

Wecontinuedwalking.Afewminuteslater,wearrivedinSorrento’senormousoffice.Itswindowsaffordedastunningviewofthesurrounding“city.”Theskywasfilledwithaircarsandspacecraft,andtheplanet’ssimulatedsunwasjustbeginningtoset.Sorrentosatdownbehindhisdeskandofferedmethechairdirectlyacrossfromhim.

Herewego,IthoughtasIsatdown.Playitcool,Wade.

“SoI’lljustcuttothechase,”hesaid.“IOIwantstorecruityou.Asaconsultant,toassistwithoursearchforHalliday’sEasteregg.You’llhaveallofourcompany’svastresourcesatyourdisposal.Money,weapons,magicitems,ships,artifacts.Younameit.”

“Whatwouldmytitlebe?”

“Chiefoologist,”hereplied.“You’dbeinchargeoftheentiredivision,second-in-commandonlytome.I’mtalkingaboutfivethousandhighlytrainedcombat-readyavatars,alltakingordersdirectlyfromyou.”

“Soundsprettysweet,”Isaid,tryinghardtosoundnonchalant.

“Ofcourseitdoes.Butthere’smore.Inexchangeforyourservices,we’rewillingtopayyoutwomilliondollarsayear,withaone-million-dollarsigningbonusupfront.Andifandwhenyouhelpusfindtheegg,you’llgetatwenty-five-million-dollarbonus.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd138

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:139

Ipretendedtoaddallofthosenumbersuponmyfingers.“Wow,”Isaid,tryingtosoundimpressed.“CanIworkfromhome,too?”

Sorrentocouldn’tseemtotellwhetherornotIwasjoking.“No,”hesaid.“I’mafraidnot.You’dhavetorelocateheretoColumbus.Butwe’llprovideyouwithexcellentlivingquartershereonthepremises.Andaprivateoffice,ofcourse.Yourownstate-of-the-artimmersionrig—”

“Holdon,”Isaid,holdingupahand.“YoumeanI’dhavetoliveintheIOIskyscraper?Withyou?AndalloftheotherSux—oologists?”

Henodded.“Justuntilyouhelpusfindtheegg.”

Iresistedtheurgetogag.“Whataboutbenefits?WouldIgethealthcare?Dental?Vision?Keystotheexecutivewashroom?Shitlikethat?”

“Ofcourse.”Hewasstartingtosoundimpatient.“So?Whatdoyousay?”

“CanIthinkaboutitforafewdays?”

“Afraidnot,”hesaid.“Thiscouldallbeoverinafewdays.Weneedyouranswernow.”

Ileanedbackandstaredattheceiling,pretendingtoconsidertheoffer.

Sorrentowaited,watchingmeintently.Iwasabouttogivehimmypreparedanswerwhenheraisedahand.

“Justlistentomeamomentbeforeyouanswer,”Sorrentosaid.“IknowmostguntersclingtotheabsurdnotionthatIOIisevil.AndthattheSixersareruthlesscorporatedroneswithnohonorandnorespectforthe

‘truespirit’ofthecontest.Thatwe’reallsellouts.Right?”

Inodded,barelyresistingtheurgetosay“That’sputtingitmildly.”

“Well,that’sridiculous,”hesaid,flashinganavunculargrinthatIsuspectedwasgeneratedbywhateverdiplomacysoftwarehewasrunning.

“TheSixersarereallynodifferentthanaGunterclan,albeitawell-fundedone.Weshareallthesameobsessionsasgunters.Andwehavethesamegoal.”

Whatgoalisthat?Iwantedtoshout.ToruintheOASISforever?Topervertanddefiletheonlythingthathasevermadeourlivesbearable?

Sorrentoseemedtotakemysilenceasacuethatheshouldcontinue.

“Youknow,contrarytopopularbelief,theOASISreallywon’tchangethatdrasticallywhenIOItakescontrolofit.Sure,we’llhavetostartchargingeveryoneamonthlyuserfee.Andincreasethesim’sadvertisingrevenue.

Butwealsoplantomakealotofimprovements.Avatarcontentfilters.

Stricterconstructionguidelines.We’regoingtomaketheOASISabetterplace.”

No,Ithought.You’regoingtoturnitintoafascistcorporatethemeparkClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd139

5/24/112:05PM

140:ErnestCline

wherethefewpeoplewhocanstillaffordthepriceofadmissionnolongerhaveanounceoffreedom.

I’dheardasmuchofthisjerk’ssalespitchasIcouldstand.

“OK,”Isaid.“Countmein.Signmeup.Whateveryouguyscallit.I’min.”

Sorrentolookedsurprised.Thisclearlywasn’ttheanswerhe’dbeenexpecting.HesmiledwideandwasabouttooffermehishandagainwhenIcuthimoff.

“ButIhavethreeminorconditions,”Isaid.“First,Iwantafifty-million-dollarbonuswhenIfindtheeggforyouguys.Nottwenty-five.Isthatdoable?”

Hedidn’tevenhesitate.“Done.Whatareyourotherconditions?”

“Idon’twanttobesecond-in-command,”Isaid.“Iwantyourjob,Sorrento.Iwanttobeinchargeofthewholeshebang.Chiefofoperations.ElNumeroUno.Oh,andIwanteveryonetohavetocallmeElNumeroUno,too.Isthatpossible?”

Mymouthseemedtobeoperatingindependentofmybrain.Icouldn’thelpmyself.

Sorrento’ssmilehadvanished.“Whatelse?”

“Idon’twanttoworkwithyou.”Ileveledafingerathim.“Yougivemethecreeps.Butifyoursuperiorsarewillingtofireyourassandgivemeyourposition,I’min.It’sadonedeal.”

Silence.Sorrento’sfacewasastoicmask.Heprobablyhadcertainemotions,likeangerandrage,filteredoutonhisfacial-recognitionsoftware.

“Couldyoucheckwithyourbossesandletmeknowifthey’llagreetothat?”Iasked.“Oraretheymonitoringusrightnow?I’mbettingtheyare.”Iwavedtotheinvisiblecameras.“Hi,guys!Whatdoyousay?”

Therewasalongsilence,duringwhichSorrentosimplyglaredatme.

“Ofcoursethey’remonitoringus,”hesaidfinally.“Andthey’vejustinformedmethatthey’rewillingtoagreetoeachofyourdemands.”Hedidn’tsoundallthatupset.

“Really?”Isaid.“Great!WhencanIstart?Andmoreimportantly,whencanyouleave?”

“Immediately,”hesaid.“Thecompanywillprepareyourcontractandsendittoyourlawyerforapproval.Thenwe—theywillflyyouheretoColumbustosignthepaperworkandclosethedeal.”Hestood.“Thatshouldconclude—”

“Actually—”Iheldupahand,cuttinghimoffagain.“I’vespentthelastClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd140

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:141

fewsecondsthinkingthisoverabitmore,andI’mgonnahavetopassonyouroffer.IthinkI’dratherfindtheeggonmyown,thanks.”Istoodup.

“YouandtheotherSux0rzcanallgofuckaduck.”

Sorrentobegantolaugh.Along,heartylaughthatIfoundmorethanalittledisturbing.“Oh,you’regood!Thatwassogood!Youreallyhadusgoingthere,kid!”Whenhislaughtertaperedoff,hesaid,“That’stheanswerIwasexpecting.Sonow,letmegiveyouoursecondproposal.”

“There’smore?”Isatbackdownandputmyfeetuponhisdesk.“OK.

Shoot.”

“We’llwirefivemilliondollarsdirectlytoyourOASISaccount,rightnow,inexchangeforawalkthroughuptotheFirstGate.That’sit.Allyouhavetodoisgiveusdetailedstep-by-stepinstructionsonhowtodowhatyou’vealreadydone.We’lltakeitfromthere.You’llbefreetocontinuesearchingfortheeggonyourown.Andourtransactionwillremainacompletesecret.Nooneeverneedknowofit.”

Iadmit,Iactuallyconsidereditforasecond.Fivemilliondollarswouldsetmeupforlife.AndevenifIhelpedtheSixerscleartheFirstGate,therewasnoguaranteethey’dbeabletocleartheothertwo.Istillwasn’tevensureifIwouldbeabletodothat.

“Trustme,son,”Sorrentosaid.“Youshouldtakethisoffer.Whileyoucan.”

Hispaternaltoneirkedmetonoend,andthathelpedtosteelmyre-solve.Icouldn’tsellouttotheSixers.IfIdid,andtheydidsomehowmanagetowinthecontest,I’dbetheoneresponsible.TherewasnowayI’dbeabletolivewiththat.IjusthopedthatAech,Art3mis,andanyothergunterstheyapproachedfeltthesameway.

“I’llpass,”Isaid.Islidmyfeetoffhisdeskandstood.“Thanksforyourtime.”

Sorrentolookedatmesadly,thenmotionedformetositbackdown.

“Actually,we’renotquitedonehere.Wehaveonefinalproposalforyou,Parzival.AndIsavedthebestforlast.”

“Can’tyoutakeahint?Youcan’tbuyme.Sopissoff.Adios.Good.Bye.”

“Sitdown,Wade.”

Ifroze.Hadhejustusedmyrealname?

“That’sright,”Sorrentobarked.“Weknowwhoyouare.WadeOwenWatts.BornAugusttwelfth,2024.Bothparentsdeceased.Andwealsoknowwhereyouare.Youresidewithyouraunt,inatrailerparklocatedatClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd141

5/24/112:05PM

142:ErnestCline

700PortlandAvenueinOklahomaCity.Unit56-K,tobeexact.Accordingtooursurveillanceteam,youwerelastseenenteringyouraunt’strailerthreedaysagoandyouhaven’tleftsince.Whichmeansyou’restillthererightnow.”

Avidfeedwindowopeneddirectlybehindhim,displayingalivevideoimageofthestackswhereIlived.Itwasanaerialview,maybebeingshotfromaplaneorasatellite.Fromthisangle,theycouldonlymonitorthetrailer’stwomainexits.Sotheyhadn’tseenmeleavethroughthelaundryroomwindoweachmorning,orreturnthroughiteachnight.Theydidn’tknowIwasactuallyinmyhideoutrightnow.

“Thereyouare,”Sorrentosaid.Hispleasant,condescendingtonehadreturned.“Youshouldreallygetoutmore,Wade.It’snothealthytospendallofyourtimeindoors.”Theimagemagnifiedafewtimes,zoominginonmyaunt’strailer.Thenitswitchedovertothermal-imagingmode,andIcouldseetheglowingoutlinesofoveradozenpeople,childrenandadults,sittinginside.Nearlyallofthemweremotionless—probablyloggedintotheOASIS.

Iwastoostunnedtospeak.Howhadtheyfoundme?ItwassupposedtobeimpossibleforanyonetoobtainyourOASISaccountinformation.

Andmyaddresswasn’teveninmyOASISaccount.Youdidn’thavetoprovideitwhenyoucreatedyouravatar.Justyournameandretinalpattern.

SohowhadtheyfoundoutwhereIlived?

Somehowtheymusthavegottenaccesstomyschoolrecords.

“Yourfirstinstinctrightnowmightbetologoutandmakearunforit,”Sorrentosaid.“Iurgeyounottomakethatmistake.Yourtraileriscurrentlywiredwithalargequantityofhighexplosives.”Hepulledsomethingthatlookedlikearemotecontroloutofhispocketandhelditup.

“Andmyfingerisonthedetonator.Ifyoulogoutofthischatlinksession,youwilldiewithinafewseconds.DoyouunderstandwhatI’msayingtoyou,Mr.Watts?”

Inoddedslowly,tryingdesperatelytogetagriponthesituation.

Hewasbluffing.Hehadtobebluffing.Andevenifhewasn’t,hedidn’tknowthatIwasactuallyhalfamileaway,inmyhideout.Sorrentoassumedthatoneoftheglowingthermaloutlinesonthedisplaywasme.

Ifabombreallydidgooffinmyaunt’strailer,I’dbesafedownhere,underallthesejunkcars.Wouldn’tI?Besides,theywouldneverkillallthosepeoplejusttogettome.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd142

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:143

“How—?”ThatwasallIcouldgetout.

“Howdidwefindoutwhoyouare?Andwhereyoulive?”Hegrinned.

“Easy.Youscrewedup,kid.WhenyouenrolledintheOASISpublicschoolsystem,yougavethemyournameandaddress.Sotheycouldmailyouyourreportcards,Isuppose.”

Hewasright.Myavatar’sname,myrealname,andmyhomeaddresswereallstoredinmyprivatestudentfile,whichonlytheprincipalcouldaccess.Itwasastupidmistake,butI’denrolledtheyearbeforethecontestevenbegan.BeforeIbecameagunter.BeforeIlearnedtoconcealmyreal-worldidentity.

“HowdidyoufindoutIattendschoolonline?”Iasked.Ialreadyknewtheanswer,butIneededtostallfortime.

“There’sbeenarumorcirculatingontheguntermessageboardsthepastfewdaysthatyouandyourpalAechbothgotoschoolonLudus.

Whenweheardthat,wedecidedtocontactafewOPSadministratorsandofferthemabribe.Doyouknowhowlittleaschooladministratormakesayear,Wade?It’sscandalous.OneofyourprincipalswaskindenoughtosearchthestudentdatabasefortheavatarnameParzival,andguesswhat?”

Anotherwindowappearedbesidethelivevideofeedofthestacks.Itdisplayedmyentirestudentprofile.Myfullname,avatarname,studentalias(Wade3),dateofbirth,SocialSecuritynumber,andhomeaddress.

Myschooltranscripts.Itwasallthere,alongwithanoldyearbookphoto,takenoverfiveyearsago—rightbeforeI’dtransferredtoschoolintheOASIS.

“WehaveyourfriendAech’sschoolrecordstoo.Buthewassmartenoughtogiveafakenameandaddresswhenheenrolled.Sofindinghimwilltakeabitlonger.”

Hepausedtoletmereply,butIremainedsilent.Mypulsewasracing,andIhadtokeepremindingmyselftobreathe.

“So,thatbringsmetoourfinalproposal.”Sorrentorubbedhishandstogetherexcitedly,likeakidabouttoopenapresent.“TellushowtoreachtheFirstGate.Rightnow.Orwewillkillyou.Rightnow.”

“You’rebluffing,”Iheardmyselfsay.ButIdidn’tthinkhewas.Notatall.

“No,Wade.I’mnot.Thinkaboutit.Witheverythingelsethat’sgoingonintheworld,doyouthinkanyonewillcareaboutanexplosioninsomeghetto-trashratwarreninOklahomaCity?They’llassumeitwasClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd143

5/24/112:05PM

144:ErnestCline

adrug-labaccident.Ormaybeadomesticterroristcelltryingtobuildahomemadebomb.Eitherway,itwilljustmeanthereareafewhundredlesshumancockroachesouttherecollectingfoodvouchersandusinguppreciousoxygen.Noonewillcare.Andtheauthoritieswon’tevenblink.”

Hewasright,andIknewit.ItriedtostallforafewsecondssoIcouldfigureoutwhattodo.“You’dkillme?”Isaid.“Towinavideogamecontest?”

“Don’tpretendtobenaïve,Wade,”Sorrentosaid.“Therearebillionsofdollarsatstakehere,alongwithcontrolofoneoftheworld’smostprof-itablecorporations,andoftheOASISitself.Thisismuchmorethanavideogamecontest.Italwayshasbeen.”Heleanedforward.“Butyoucanstillcomeoutawinnerhere,kid.Ifyouhelpus,we’llstillgiveyouthefivemillion.Youcanretireatageeighteenandspendtherestofyourdayslivinglikeroyalty.Oryoucandieinthenextfewseconds.It’syourcall.Butaskyourselfthisquestion—ifyourmotherwerestillalive,whatwouldshewantyoutodo?”

ThatlastquestionwouldreallyhavepissedmeoffifIhadn’tbeensoscared.“What’stostopyoufromkillingmeafterIgiveyouwhatyouwant?”Iasked.

“Regardlessofwhatyoumaythink,wedon’twanttohavetokillanyoneunlessit’sabsolutelynecessary.Besides,therearetwomoregates,right?”Heshrugged.“Wemightneedyourhelptofigurethoseouttoo.

Personally,Idoubtit.Butmysuperiorsfeeldifferently.Regardless,youdon’treallyhaveachoiceatthispoint,doyou?”Heloweredhisvoice,asifhewereabouttoshareasecret.“Sohere’swhat’sgoingtohappennext.

You’regoingtogivemestep-by-stepinstructionsonhowtoobtaintheCopper

KeyandcleartheFirstGate.Andyou’regoingtostayloggedintothischatlinksessionwhileweverifyeverythingyoutellus.LogoutbeforeIsayit’sOK,andyourwholeworldgoesboom.Understand?Nowstarttalking.”

Iconsideredgivingthemwhattheywanted.Ireallydid.ButIthoughtitthrough,andIcouldn’tcomeupwithasinglegoodreasonwhytheywouldletmelive,evenifIhelpedthemcleartheFirstGate.Theonlymovethatmadesensewastokillmeandtakemeoutoftherunning.Theysureashellweren’tgoingtogivemefivemilliondollars,orleavemealivetotellthemediahowIOIhadblackmailedme.Especiallyiftherereallywasaremote-controlledbombplantedinmytrailertoserveasevidence.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd144

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:145

No.ThewayIsawit,therewerereallyonlytwopossibilities:Eithertheywerebluffingortheyweregoingtokillme,whetherIhelpedthemornot.

Imademydecisionandsummonedmycourage.

“Sorrento,”Isaid,tryingtohidethefearinmyvoice,“Iwantyouandyourbossestoknowsomething.You’renevergoingtofindHalliday’segg.

Youknowwhy?Becausehewassmarterthanallofyouputtogether.Itdoesn’tmatterhowmuchmoneyyouhaveorwhoyoutrytoblackmail.

You’regoingtolose.”

ItappedmyLog-outicon,andmyavatarbegantodematerializeinfrontofhim.Hedidn’tseemsurprised.Hejustlookedatmesadlyandshookhishead.“Stupidmove,kid,”hesaid,justbeforemyvisorwentblack.

Isatthereinthedarknessofmyhideout,wincingandwaitingforthedetonation.Butafullminutepassedandnothinghappened.

Islidmyvisorupandpulledoffmygloveswithshakinghands.Asmyeyesbegantoadjusttothedarkness,Iletoutatentativesighofrelief.Ithadbeenabluffafterall.Sorrentohadbeenplayinganelaboratemindgamewithme.Aneffectiveonetoo.

AsIwasgulpingdownabottleofwater,IrealizedthatIshouldlogbackinandwarnAechandArt3mis.TheSixerswouldgoafterthemnext.

IwaspullingmyglovesbackonwhenIheardtheexplosion.

IfelttheshockwaveasplitsecondafterIheardthedetonationandinstinctivelydroppedtothefloorofmyhideoutwithmyarmswrappedovermyhead.Inthedistance,Icouldhearthesoundofrendingmetalasseveraltrailerstacksbegantocollapse,rippingfreeoftheirscaffoldingandcrashingagainstoneanotherlikemassivedominoes.Thesehorrificsoundscontinuedforwhatseemedlikeaverylongtime.Thenitwassilentagain.

Ieventuallyovercamemyparalysisandopenedthereardoorofthevan.Inanightmare-likedaze,Imademywaytotheoutskirtsofthejunkpile,andfromthere,Icouldseeagiantpillarofsmokeandflamesrisingfromtheoppositeendofthestacks.

Ifollowedthestreamofpeoplealreadyrunninginthatdirection,alongthenorthernperimeterofthestacks.Thestackcontainingmyaunt’strailerhadcollapsedintoafiery,smokingruin,alongwithallofthestacksadjacenttoit.Therewasnothingtherenowbutamassivepileoftwisted,flamingmetal.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd145

5/24/112:05PM

146:ErnestCline

Ikeptmydistance,butalargecrowdofpeoplehadalreadygatheredupaheadofme,standingasclosetotheblazeastheydared.Noonebotheredtryingtoenterthewreckagetolookforsurvivors.Itwasobviousthereweren’tgoingtobeany.

Anancientpropanetankattachedtooneofthecrushedtrailersdetonatedina

smallexplosion,causingthecrowdtoscatteranddiveforcover.

Severalmoretanksdetonatedinrapidsuccession.Afterthat,theonlookersmovedmuchfartherbackandkepttheirdistance.

Theresidentswholivedinthenearbystacksknewthatifthefirespread,theywereinbigtrouble.Soalotofpeoplewerealreadyscramblingtofighttheblaze,usinggardenhoses,buckets,emptyBigGulpcups,andwhateverelsetheycouldfind.Beforelong,theflameswerecontainedandthefirebegantodieout.

AsIwatchedinsilence,Icouldalreadyhearthepeoplearoundmemurmuring,sayingthatitwasprobablyanothermeth-labaccident,orthatsomeidiotmusthavebeentryingtobuildahomemadebomb.JustasSorrentohadpredicted.

Thatthoughtsnappedmeoutofmydaze.WhatwasIthinking?TheSixershadjusttriedtokillme.Theyprobablystillhadagentslurkinghereinthestacks,checkingtomakesureIwasdead.AndlikeatotalidiotIwasstandingrightoutintheopen.

Ifadedawayfromthecrowdandhurriedbacktomyhideout,beingcarefulnotrun,constantlyglancingovermyshouldertomakesureIwasn’tbeingfollowed.OnceIwasbackinsidethevan,Islammedandlockedthedoor,thencurledintoaquiveringballinthecorner.Istayedlikethatforalongtime.

Eventually,theshockbegantowearoff,andtherealityofwhathadjusthappenedstartedtosinkin.MyauntAliceandherboyfriendRickweredead,alongwitheveryonewhohadlivedinourtrailer,andinthetrailersbelowandaroundit.IncludingsweetoldMrs.Gilmore.AndifIhadbeenathome,Iwouldbedeadnowtoo.

Iwasjackeduponadrenaline,unsureofwhattodonext,overcomebyaparalyzingmixtureoffearandrage.IthoughtaboutloggingintotheOASIStocallthepolice,butthenconsideredhowtheywouldreactwhenItoldthemmystory.They’dthinkIwasaravingnutjob.AndifIcalledthemedia,they’dreactthesameway.Therewasnowayanyonewouldbelievemystory.NotunlessIrevealedthatIwasParzival,andmaybenotevenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd146

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:147

then.Ididn’thaveashredofproofagainstSorrentoandtheSixers.Alltracesofthebombthey’dplantedwereprobablymeltingintoslagrightnow.

RevealingmyidentitytotheworldsothatIcouldaccuseoneoftheworld’smostpowerfulcorporationsofblackmailandmurderdidn’tseemlikethesmartestmove.Noonewouldbelieveme.Icouldbarelybelieveitmyself.IOIhadactuallytriedtokillme.Topreventmefromwinningavideogamecontest.Itwasinsane.

Iseemedtobesafeinmyhideoutforthemoment,butIknewIcouldn’tstayinthestacksmuchlonger.WhentheSixersfoundoutIwasstillalive,theywouldcomebackherelookingforme.IneededtogetthehelloutofDodge.ButIcouldn’tdothatuntilIhadsomemoney,andmyfirstendorsementcheckswouldn’tbedepositedforanotherdayortwo.Iwouldjusthavetolielowuntilthen.Butrightnow,IneededtotalktoAech,towarnhimthathewasnextontheSixers’hitlist.

Iwasalsodesperatetoseeafriendlyface.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd147

5/24/112:05PM

IgrabbedmyOASISconsoleandpowerediton,thenpulledonmyvisorandgloves.AsIloggedin,myavatarreappearedonLudus,onthehilltopwhereI’dbeensittingpriortomychat-roomsessionwithSorrento.Themomentmyaudiokickedin,Iheardtheearsplittingroarofenginescomingfromsomewheredirectlyoverheard.Isteppedoutfromunderthetreeandlookedup.IsawasquadronofSixergunshipsflyinginformation,zoomingsouthatlowaltitude,theirsensorsscanningthesurfaceastheywent.

Iwasabouttoduckbackunderthetree,outofsight,whenIrememberedthatall

ofLuduswasano-PvPzone.TheSixerscouldn’tharmmehere.Evenso,mynerveswerestillonedge.IcontinuedtoscantheskyandquicklyspottedtwomoreSixergunshipsquadronsoffneartheeasternhorizon.Amomentlater,severalmoresquadronsdroppedinfromorbittothenorthandwest.Itlookedlikeanalieninvasion.

Aniconflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatIhadanewtextmessagefromAech:Wherethehellareyou?CallmeASAFP!

Itappedhisnameonmycontactlist,andheansweredonthefirstring.

Hisavatar’sfaceappearedinmyvidfeedwindow.Hewaswearingagrimexpression.

“Didyouhearthenews?”heasked.

“Whatnews?”

“TheSixersareonLudus.Thousandsofthem.Morearrivingeveryminute.They’researchingtheplanet,lookingforthetomb.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd148

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:149

“Yeah.I’monLudusrightnow.Sixergunshipseverywhere.“

Aechscowled.“WhenIfindI-r0k,I’mgoingtokillhim.Slowly.Then,whenhecreatesanewavatar,I’mgoingtohunthimdownandkillhimagain.Ifthatmoronhadkepthismouthshut,theSixersneverwouldhavethoughttolookhere.”

“Yeah.Hisforumpostswerewhattippedthemoff.Sorrentosaidsohimself.”

“Sorrento?AsinNolanSorrento?”

Itoldhimeverythingthathadhappenedinthepastfewhours.

“Theyblewupyourhouse?”

“Actually,itwasatrailer,”Isaid.“Inatrailerpark.Theykilledalotofpeoplehere,Aech.It’sprobablyalreadyonthenewsfeeds.”Itookadeepbreath.“I’mfreakingout.I’mscared.”

“Idon’tblameyou,”hesaid.“ThankGodyouweren’thomewhenithappened....”

Inodded.“Ialmostneverloginfromhome.Luckily,theSixersdidn’tknowthat.”

“Whataboutyourfamily?”

“Itwasmyaunt’splace.She’sdead,Ithink.We...weweren’tveryclose.”Thiswasahugeunderstatement,ofcourse.MyauntAlicehadnevershownmemuchkindness,butshestillhadn’tdeservedtodie.ButmostofthewrenchingguiltInowfelthadtodowithMrs.Gilmore,andtheknowledgethatmyactionshadgottenherkilled.ShewasoneofthesweetestpeopleI’deverknown.

IrealizedthatIwassobbing.ImutedmyaudiosoAechwouldn’thear,thentookseveraldeepbreathsuntilIgotmyselfundercontrolagain.

“Ican’tbelievethis!”Aechgrowled.“Thoseevilpricks.They’regonnapay,Z.Countonit.Wewillmakethempayforthis.”

Icouldn’tseehow,butIdidn’targue.Iknewhewasjusttryingtomakemefeelbetter.

“Whereareyourightnow?”Aechasked.“Doyouneedhelp?Like,aplacetostayorsomething?Icanwireyousomemoneyifyouneedit.”

“No,I’mOK,”Isaid.“Butthanks,man.Ireallyappreciatetheoffer.”

“Denada,amigo.”

“Listen,didtheSixerssendyouthesamee-mailtheysentme?”

“Yeah.Thousandsofthem.ButIdecideditwasbesttoignorethem.”

Ifrowned.“IwishI’dbeensmartenoughtodothat.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd149

5/24/112:05PM

150:ErnestCline

“Dude,youhadnowayofknowingtheyweregonnatryandkillyou!

Besides,theyalreadyhadyourhomeaddress.Ifyou’dignoredtheire-mails,theyprobablywouldhavesetoffthatbombanyway.”

“Listen,Aech...Sorrentosaidthatyourschoolrecordscontainedafakehomeaddress,andthattheydon’tknowwheretofindyou.Buthemighthavebeenlying.Youshouldleavehome.Gosomewheresafe.Assoonaspossible.”

“Don’tworryaboutme,Z.Istaymobile.Thosebastardswillneverfindme.”

“Ifyousayso,”Ireplied,wonderingwhatexactlyhemeant.“ButIneedtowarnArt3mis,too.AndDaitoandShoto,ifIcanreachthem.TheSixersareprobablydoingeverythingtheycantolearntheiridentitiestoo.”

“Thatgivesmeanidea,”hesaid.“WeshouldinviteallthreeofthemtomeetusintheBasementlatertonight.Sayaroundmidnight?Aprivatechat-roomsession.Justthefiveofus.”

MymoodbrightenedattheprospectofseeingArt3misagain.“Doyouthinkthey’llallagreetocome?”

“Yeah,ifweletthemknowtheirlivesdependonit.”Hesmirked.“Andwe’regoingtohavetheworld’stopfivegunterstogetherinonechatroom.

Who’sgonnasitthatout?”

IsentArt3misashortmessage,askinghertomeetusinAech’sprivatechatroomatmidnight.Sherepliedjustafewminuteslater,promisingtobethere.

Aechtoldmehe’dmanagedtoreachDaitoandShoto,andtheyhadbothalsoagreedtoattend.Themeetingwasset.

Ididn’tfeellikebeingalone,soIloggedintotheBasementaboutanhourearly.Aechwasalreadythere,surfingthenewsfeedsontheancientRCAtelevision.Withoutsayingaword,hegotupandgavemeahug.

EventhoughIcouldn’tactuallyfeelit,Ifounditsurprisinglycomforting.

Thenwebothsatdownandwatchedthenewscoveragetogetherwhilewewaitedfortheotherstoarrive.

EverychannelwasairingOASISfootageshowingthehordesofSixerspacecraftandtroopsthatwerecurrentlyarrivingonLudus.Itwaseasyforeveryonetoguesswhytheywerethere,andsonoweverygunterinthesimulationwasalsoheadedforLudus.Transportterminalsallovertheplanetwerejammedwithincomingavatars.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd150

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:151

“Somuchforkeepingthetomb’slocationasecret,”Isaid,shakingmyhead.

“Itwasboundtoleakouteventually,”Aechsaid,shuttingofftheTV.“Ijustdidn’tthinkitwouldhappenthisfast.”

WebothheardanentrancealertchimeasArt3mismaterializedatthetopofthestaircase.Shewaswearingthesameoutfitshe’dhadonthenightwemet.Shewavedtomeasshedescendedthesteps.Iwavedback,thenmadeintroductions.

“Aech,meetArt3mis.Art3mis,thisismybestfriend,Aech.”

“Pleasuretomeetyou,”Art3missaid,extendingherrighthand.

Aechshookit.“Likewise.”HeflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Thanksforcoming.”

“Areyoukidding?HowcouldImissit?TheveryfirstmeetingoftheHighFive.”

“TheHighFive?”Isaid.

“Yeah,”Aechsaid.“That’swhatthey’recallingusonallofthemessageboardsnow.Weholdthetopfivehigh-scoreslotsontheScoreboard.Sowe’retheHighFive.”

“Right,”Isaid.“Atleastforthetimebeing.”

Art3misgrinnedatthat,thenturnedandbegantowanderaroundtheBasement,admiringthe’80sdecor.“Aech,thisis,byfar,thecoolestchatroomI’veeverseen.”

“Thankyou.”Hebowedhishead.“Kindofyoutosay.”

Shestoppedtobrowsethroughtheshelfofrole-playinggamesupplements.“You’vere-createdMorrow’sbasementperfectly.Everylastdetail.

Iwanttolivehere.”

“You’vegotapermanentspotontheguestlist.Loginandhangoutanytime.”

“Really?”shesaid,clearlydelighted.“Thankyou!Iwill.You’retheman,Aech.”

“Yes,”hesaid,smiling.“It’strue.Iam.”

Theyreallyseemedtobehittingitoff,anditwasmakingmecrazyjealous.Ididn’twantArt3mistolikeAech,orviceversa.Iwantedheralltomyself.

DaitoandShotologgedinamomentlater,appearingsimultaneouslyatthetopofthebasementstaircase.Daitowasthetallerofthetwo,andappearedtobeinhislateteens.ShotowasafootshorterandlookedmuchClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd151

5/24/112:05PM

152:ErnestCline

younger.Maybeaboutthirteen.BothavatarslookedJapanese,andtheyboreastrikingresemblancetooneanother,likesnapshotsofthesameyoungmantakenfiveyearsapart.Theyworematchingsuitsoftraditionalsamuraiarmor,andeachhadbothashortwakizashiandalongerkatanastrappedtohisbelt.

“Greetings,”thetallersamuraisaid.“IamDaito.Andthisismylittlebrother,Shoto.Thankyoufortheinvitation.Wearehonoredtomeetallthreeofyou.”

Theybowedinunison.AechandArt3misreturnedthebow,andIquicklyfollowedsuit.Asweeachintroducedourselves,DaitoandShotobowedtousonceagain,andonceagainweeachreturnedthegesture.

“Allright,”Aechsaid,onceallthebowinghadended.“Let’sgetthispartystarted.I’msureyou’veallseenthenews.TheSixersareswarmingalloverLudus.Thousandsofthem.They’reconductingasystematicsearchoftheentiresurfaceoftheplanet.Eveniftheydon’tknowexactlywhatthey’relookingfor,itstillwon’tbelongbeforetheyfindtheentrancetothetomb—”

“Actually,”Art3misinterrupted,“theyalreadyfoundit.Overthirtyminutesago.”

Weallturnedtolookather.

“Thathasn’tbeenreportedonthenewsfeedsyet,”Daitosaid.“Areyousure?”

Shenodded.“Afraidso.WhenIheardabouttheSixersthismorning,Idecidedtohideanuplinkcamerainsometreesnearthetombentrance,tokeepaneyeonthearea.”Sheopenedavidfeedwindowintheairinfrontofherandspunitaroundsotherestofuscouldsee.Itshowedawideshotoftheflat-toppedhillandtheclearingaroundit,lookingdownfromaspotinoneofthetreeshighabove.Fromthisangle,itwaseasytoseethatthelargeblackstonesontopofthehillwerearrangedtolooklikeahumanskull.WecouldalsoseethattheentireareawascrawlingwithSixers,andmoreseemedtobearrivingeverysecond.

Butthemostdisturbingthingwesawonthevidfeedwasthelargetransparentdomeofenergythatnowcoveredtheentirehill.

“Sonofabitch,”Aechsaid.“IsthatwhatIthinkitis?”

Art3misnodded.“Aforcefield.TheSixersinstalleditjustafterthefirstofthemarrived.So...”

“Sofromhereonout,”Daitosaid,“anygunterwhofindsthetombClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd152

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:153

won’tbeabletogetinside.Notunlesstheycansomehowgetthroughthatforcefield.”

“Actually,they’veputuptwoforcefields,”Art3missaid.“Asmallfieldwithalargerfieldoverit.Theylowertheminsequence,whenevertheywanttoletmoreSixersenterthetomb.Likeanairlock.”Shepointedtothewindow.“Watch.They’redoingitnow.”

AsquadronofSixersmarcheddowntheloadingrampofagunshipparkednearby.Theywereallluggingequipmentcontainers.Astheyapproachedtheouterforcefield,itvanished,revealingasmallerdomedfieldinsidethefirst.Assoonasthesquadronreachedthewalloftheinnerforcefield,theouterfieldreappeared.Asecondlater,theinnerforcefieldwasdropped,allowingtheSixerstoenterthetomb.

Therewasalongsilencewhileweallcontemplatedthisnewdevelopment.

“Isupposeitcouldbeworse,”Aechsaidfinally.“IfthetombwereinaPvPzone,thoseassholeswouldalreadyhavelasercannonsandrobotsentriesmountedeverywhere,tovaporizeanyonewhoapproachedthearea.”

Hewasright.SinceLuduswasasafezone,theSixerscouldn’tharmgunterswhoapproachedthetomb.Buttherewasnothingtostopthemfromerectingaforcefieldtokeepthemout.Sothatwasexactlywhatthey’ddone.

“TheSixershaveobviouslybeenplanningforthismomentforsometimenow,”

Art3missaid,closinghervidfeedwindow.

“Theywon’tbeabletokeepeveryoneoutforverylong,”Aechsaid.

“Whentheclansfindoutaboutthis,it’llbeall-outwar.Therewillbethousandsofguntersattackingthatforcefieldwitheverythingthey’vegot.RPGs.Fireballs.Clusterbombs.Nukes.It’sgonnagetugly.They’llturnthatforestintoawasteland.”

“Yeah,butinthemeantime,SixeravatarswillbefarmingtheCopperKeyandthenfilingtheiravatarsthroughtheFirstGate,oneafteranother,inafreakin’congaline.”

“Buthowcantheydothis?”Shotoasked,hisyoungvoicebrimmingwithrage.Helookedtohisbrother.“It’snotfair.They’renotplayingfair.”

“Theydon’thaveto.TherearenolawsintheOASIS,littlebrother,”

Daitosaid.“TheSixerscandowhatevertheyplease.Theywon’tstopuntilsomeonestopsthem.”

“TheSixershavenohonor,”Shotosaid,scowling.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd153

5/24/112:05PM

154:ErnestCline

“Youguysdon’tknowthehalfofit,”Aechsaid.“That’swhyParzivalandIaskedyouallhere.”Heturnedtome.“Z,doyouwanttotellthemwhathappened?”

Inoddedandturnedtotheothers.First,Itoldthemaboutthee-mailI’dreceivedfromIOI.They’dallreceivedthesameinvitation,buthadwiselyignoredit.ThenIrelatedthedetailsofmychat-roomsessionwithSorrento,doingmybestnottoleaveanythingout.Finally,Itoldthemhowourconversationhadended—withabombdetonatingatmyhomeaddress.BythetimeI’dfinished,their

avatarsallworelooksofstunneddisbelief.

“Jesus,”Art3miswhispered.“Nojoke?Theytriedtokillyou?”

“Yeah.Theywouldhavesucceeded,too,ifI’dbeenathome.Iwasjustlucky.”

“NowyouallknowhowfartheSixersarewillingtogotostopusfrombeatingthemtotheegg,”Aechsaid.“Ifthey’reabletolocateanyoneofus,we’redeadmeat.”

Inodded.“Soyoushouldalltakeprecautionstoprotectyourselvesandyouridentities,”Isaid.“Ifyouhaven’talready.”

Theyallnodded.Therewasanotherlongsilence.

“There’sstillonethingIdon’tunderstand,”Art3missaidamomentlater.“HowdidtheSixersknowtolookforthetombonLudus?Didsomeonetipthemoff?”Sheglancedaroundateachofus,buttherewasnohintofaccusationinhervoice.

“TheymusthaveseentherumorsaboutParzivalandAechthatwerepostedonalloftheguntermessageboards,”Shotosaid.“That’showweknewtolookthere.”

Daitowinced,thenpunchedhislittlebrotherintheshoulder.“Didn’tItellyoutokeepquiet,blabbermouth?”hehissed.Shotolookedsheepishandclammedup.

“Whatrumors?”Art3misasked.Shelookedatme.“What’shetalkingabout?Ihaven’thadtimetochecktheboardsinafewdays.”

“SeveralpostsweremadebygunterswhoclaimedtoknowParzivalandAech,sayingtheywerebothstudentsonLudus.”HeturnedtoAechandme.“MybrotherandIhavespentthepasttwoyearssearchingfortheTombofHorrors.We’vescoureddozensofworldslookingforit.ButweneverthoughttolookonLudus.Notuntilweheardthatyouattendedschoolthere.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd154

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:155

“ItneveroccurredtomethatattendingschoolonLuduswassomethingIneededtokeepasecret,”Isaid.“SoIdidn’t.”

“Yeah,andit’sluckyforusthatyoudidn’t,”Aechsaid.Heturnedtotheothers.“Parzivalunintentionallytippedmeoffaboutthetomb’slocation,too.IneverthoughttolookforitonLudus,either,untilhisnameappearedontheScoreboard.”

Daitonudgedhisyoungerbrother,andtheybothfacedmeandbowed.

“Youwerethefirsttofindthetomb’shidingplace,soweoweyouourgratitudeforleadingustoit.”

Ireturnedtheirbow.“Thanks,guys.Butactually,Art3misherefounditfirst.Totallyonherown.AmonthbeforeIdid.”

“Yeah,forallthegooditdidme,”Art3missaid.“Icouldn’tdefeatthelichatJoust.I’dbeenatitforweekswhenthispunkshowedupanddiditonhisfirsttry.”Sheexplainedhowwemet,andhowshefinallymanagedtobeatthekingthefollowingday,rightaftertheserverresetatmidnight.

“IhaveAechheretothankformyjoustingprowess,”Isaid.“Weusedtoplayallthetime,hereintheBasement.That’stheonlyreasonIbeatthekingonmyfirstattempt.”

“Ditto,”Aechsaid.Hestretchedouthishandandwebumpedfists.

DaitoandShotobothsmiled.“Itwasthesamewithus,”Daitosaid.

“MybrotherandIhavebeenplayingJoustagainstoneanotherforyears,becausethegamewasmentionedinAnorak’sAlmanac.”

“Great,”Art3missaid,throwingupherhands.“Goodforyouguys.

Youwereallpreparedinadvance.I’msohappyforyou.Bravo.”Shegaveusallasarcasticgolfclap,whichmadeeveryonelaugh.“Now,canwead-journthe

MutualAdmirationSocietyandgetbacktothetopicathand?”

“Sure,”Aechsaid,smiling.“Whatwasthetopicathand?”

“TheSixers?”Art3misoffered.

“Right!Ofcourse!”Aechrubbedthebackofhisneckwhilebitinghislowerlip,somethinghealwaysdidwhenhewastryingtogatherhisthoughts.“Yousaidtheyfoundthetomblessthananhourago,right?

Soanyminutenow,they’llreachthethroneroomandfaceoffagainstthelich.Butwhatdoyouthinkhappenswhenmultipleavatarsentertheburialchamberatthesametime?”

IturnedtoDaitoandShoto.“YournamesappearedontheScoreboardonthesameday,justafewminutesapart.Soyouenteredthethroneroomtogether,didn’tyou?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd155

5/24/112:05PM

156:ErnestCline

Daitonodded.“Yes,”hesaid.“Andwhenwesteppedonthedais,twocopiesofthekingappeared,oneforeachofustoplay.”

“Great,”Art3missaid.“SoitmightbepossibleforhundredsofSixerstojoustfortheCopperKeyatthesametime.Oreventhousands.”

“Yeah,”Shotosaid.“Buttogetthekey,eachSixerhastobeatthelichatJoust,whichweallknowisn’teasy.”

“TheSixersareusinghackedimmersionrigs,”Isaid.“Sorrentowasboastingaboutittome.They’vegotitsetupsothatdifferentuserscancontroltheactionsofeveryoneoftheiravatars.SotheycanjusthavetheirbestJoustplayerstakecontrolofeachSixeravatarduringthematchagainstAcererak.Oneaftertheother.”

“Cheatingbastards,”Aechrepeated.

“TheSixershavenohonor,”Daitosaid,shakinghishead.

“Yeah,”Art3missaid,rollinghereyes.“We’veestablishedthat.”

“Itgetsworse,”Isaid.“EverySixerhasasupportteammadeupofHallidayscholars,videogameexperts,andcryptologistswhoaretheretohelpthembeateverychallengeandsolveeverypuzzletheyencounter.PlayingthroughtheWarGamessimulationwillbeapieceofcakeforthem.Someonewilljustfeedthemthedialogue.”

“Unbelievable,”Aechmuttered.“Howarewesupposedtocompetewiththat?”

“Wecan’t,”Art3missaid.“OncetheyhavetheCopperKey,they’llprobablylocatetheFirstGatejustasquicklyaswealldid.Itwon’ttakethemverylongtocatchupwithus.AndoncetheyhavetheriddleabouttheJadeKey,they’llhavetheireggheadsworkingaroundtheclocktodecipherit.”

“IftheyfindtheJadeKey’shidingplacebeforewedo,they’llbarricadeit,too,”Isaid.“Andthenthefiveofuswillbeinthesameboateveryoneelseisinrightnow.”

Art3misnodded.Aechkickedthecoffeetableinfrustration.“Thisisn’tevenremotelyfair,”hesaid.“TheSixershaveahugeadvantageoverallofus.They’vegotanendlesssupplyofmoney,weapons,vehicles,andavatars.Therearethousandsofthem,allworkingtogether.”

“Right,”Isaid.“Andeachofusisonourown.Well,exceptforyoutwo.”InoddedatDaitoandShoto.“ButyouknowwhatImean.They’vegotusoutnumberedandoutgunned,andthatisn’tgoingtochangeanytimesoon.”

“Whatareyousuggesting?”Daitoasked.Hesuddenlysoundeduneasy.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd156

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:157

“I’mnotsuggestinganything,”Isaid.“I’mjuststatingthefacts,asIseethem.”

“Good,”Daitoreplied.“Becauseitsoundedlikeyouwereabouttoproposesomesortofalliancebetweenthefiveofus.”

Aechstudiedhimcarefully.“So?Wouldthatbesuchaterribleidea?”

“Yes,itwould,”Daitosaidcurtly.“MybrotherandIhuntalone.Wedon’twantorneedyourhelp.”

“Ohreally?”Aechsaid.“Asecondago,youadmittedneedingParzival’shelptofindtheTombofHorrors.”

Daito’seyesnarrowed.“Wewouldhavefounditonourowneventually.”

“Right,”Aechsaid.“Itprobablywouldhaveonlytakenyouanotherfiveyears.”

“Comeon,Aech,”Isaid,steppingbetweenthem.“Thisisn’thelping.”

AechandDaitoglaredateachotherinsilence,whileShotostaredupathisbrotheruncertainly.Art3misjuststoodbackandwatched,lookingsomewhatamused.

“Wedidn’tcomeheretobeinsulted,”Daitosaidfinally.“We’releaving.”

“Holdon,Daito,”Isaid.“Justwaitasecond,willyou?Let’sjusttalkthisout.Weshouldn’tpartasenemies.We’reallonthesamesidehere.”

“No,”Daitosaid.“We’renot.You’reallstrangerstous.Forallweknow,anyoneofyoucouldbeaSixerspy.”

Art3mislaughedoutloudatthat,thencoveredhermouth.Daitoignoredher.“Thisispointless,”hesaid.“Onlyonepersoncanbethefirsttofindtheeggandwintheprize,”hesaid.“Andthatpersonwillbeeithermeormybrother.”

Andwiththat,DaitoandShotobothabruptlyloggedout.

“Thatwentwell,”Art3missaid,oncetheiravatarshadvanished.

Inodded.“Yeah,realsmooth,Aech.Waytobuildbridges.”

“WhatdidIdo?”hesaiddefensively.“Daitowasbeingacompleteasshole!Besides,it’snotlikewewereaskinghimtoteamup,anyway.I’manavowedsolo.Andsoareyou.AndArt3misherelookslikethelone-wolftypetoo.”

“Guiltyascharged,”shesaid,grinning.“Butevenso,thereisanargumenttobemadeforforminganallianceagainsttheSixers.”

“Maybe,”Aechsaid.“Butthinkaboutit.IfyoufindtheJadeKeybeforeeitherofusdo,areyougoingtobegenerousandtelluswhereitis?”

Art3missmirked.“Ofcoursenot.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd157

5/24/112:05PM

158:ErnestCline

“Meneither,”Aechsaid.“Sothere’snopointindiscussinganalliance.”

Art3misshrugged.“Well,thenitlookslikethemeetingisover.Ishouldprobablygetgoing.”Shewinkedatme.“Theclockisticking.Right,boys?”

“Ticktock,”Isaid.

“Goodluck,fellas.”Shegaveusbothawave.“Seeyaaround.”

“Seeya,”webothansweredinunison.

Iwatchedheravatarslowlydisappear,thenturnedtofindAechsmilingatme.“Whatareyougrinningabout?”Iasked.

“You’vegotacrushonher,don’tyou?”

“What?OnArt3mis?No—”

“Don’tdenyit,Z.Youweremakinggooglyeyesatherthewholetimeshewas

here.”Hedidhisimpressionofthis,claspingbothhandstohischestandbattinghiseyelasheslikeasilentfilmstar.“Irecordedthewholechatsession.Doyouwantmetoplayitbackforyou,soyoucanseehowsillyyoulooked?”

“Stopbeingadick.”

“It’sunderstandable,man,”Aechsaid.“Thatgirlissupercute.”

“So,haveyouhadanyluckwiththenewriddle?”Isaid,deliberatelychangingthesubject.“ThatquatrainabouttheJadeKey?”

“Quatrain?”

“‘Apoemorstanzawithfourlinesandanalternatingrhymescheme,’”

Irecited.“It’scalledaquatrain.”

Aechrolledhiseyes.“You’retoomuch,man.”

“What?That’sthepropertermforit,asshead!”

“It’sjustariddle,dude.Andno.Ihaven’thadanyluckfiguringitoutyet.”

“Meneither,”Isaid.“Soweprobablyshouldn’tbestandingaroundjabberingateachother.Timetoputournosestothegrindstone.”

“Iconcur,”hesaid.“But—”

Justthen,astackofcomicbooksontheothersideoftheroomslidofftheendtablewheretheywerepiledandcrashedtothefloor,asifsomethinghadknockedthemover.AechandIbothjumped,thenexchangedconfusedlooks.

“Whatthehellwasthat?”Isaid.

“Idon’tknow.”Aechwalkedoverandexaminedthescatteredcomics.

“Maybeasoftwareglitchorsomething?”

“I’veneverseenachat-roomglitchlikethat,”Isaid,scanningtheemptyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd158

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:159

room.“Couldsomeoneelsebeinhere?Aninvisibleavatar,eavesdroppingonus?”

Aechrolledhiseyes.“Noway,Z,”hesaid.“You’regettingwaytooparanoid.Thisisanencryptedprivatechatroom.Noonecanenterwithoutmypermission.Youknowthat.”

“Right,”Isaid,stillfreakedout.

“Relax.Itwasaglitch.”Herestedahandonmyshoulder.“Listen.Letmeknowifyouchangeyourmindaboutneedingaloan.Oraplacetocrash.OK?”

“I’llbeallright,”Isaid.“Butthanks,amigo.”

Webumpedfistsagain,liketheWonderTwinsactivatingtheirpowers.

“I’llcatchyoulater.Goodluck,Z.”

“Sametoyou,Aech.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd159

5/24/112:05PM

Afewhourslater,theremainingslotsontheScoreboardbegantofillup,oneafteranother,inrapidsuccession.Notwithavatarnames,butwithIOIemployeenumbers.Eachwouldappearwithascoreof5,000

points(whichnowappearedtobethefixedvalueforobtainingtheCopperKey);thenthescorewouldjumpbyanother100,000pointsafewhourslater,oncethatSixerhadclearedtheFirstGate.Bytheendoftheday,theScoreboardlookedlikethis:

HIGHSCORES:

1.Parzival

110,000

2.Art3mis

109,000

3.Aech

108,000

4.Daito

107,000

5.Shoto

106,000

6.IOI-655321

105,000

7.IOI-643187

105,000

8.IOI-621671

105,000

9.IOI-678324

105,000

10.IOI-637330

105,000

IrecognizedthefirstSixeremployeenumbertoappear,becauseI’dseenitprintedonSorrento’suniform.He’dprobablyinsistedthathisavatarbethefirsttoobtaintheCopperKeyandclearthegate.ButIhadaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd160

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:161

hardtimebelievinghe’ddoneitonhisown.TherewasnowayhewasthatgoodatJoust.OrthatheknewWarGamesbyheart.ButInowknewthathedidn’thavetobe.Whenhereachedachallengehecouldn’thandle,likewinningatJoust,hecouldjusthandcontrolofhisavatarofftooneofhisunderlings.AndduringtheWarGameschallengehe’dprobablyjusthadsomeonefeedinghimallofthedialogueviahishackedimmersionrig.

Oncetheremainingemptyslotswerefilled,theScoreboardbegantogrowinlength,todisplayrankingsbeyondtenthplace.Beforelong,twentyavatarswerelistedontheScoreboard.Thenthirty.Overthenexttwenty-fourhours,oversixtySixeravatarsclearedtheFirstGate.

Meanwhile,LudushadbecomethemostpopulardestinationintheOASIS.

Transportterminalsallovertheplanetwerespittingoutasteadystreamofgunterswhothenswarmedacrosstheglobe,creatingchaosanddisruptingclassesoneveryschoolcampus.TheOASISPublicSchoolBoardsawthewritingonthewall,andthedecisionwasquicklymadetoevacuateLudusandrelocateallofitsschoolstoanewlocation.Anidenticalcopyoftheplanet,LudusII,wascreatedinthesamesector,ashortdistanceawayfromtheoriginal.Allstudentsweregivenadayofffromschoolwhileabackupcopyoftheplanet’soriginalsourcecodewascopiedovertothenewsite(minustheTombofHorrorscodeHallidayhadsecretlyaddedtoitatsomepoint).ClassesresumedonLudusIIthefollowingday,andLuduswasleftfortheSixersandgunterstofightover.

NewsspreadquicklythattheSixerswereencampedaroundasmallflat-toppedhillatthecenterofaremoteforest.Thetomb’sexactlocationappearedonthemessageboardsthatevening,alongwithscreenshotsshowingtheforcefieldtheSixershaderectedtokeepeveryoneelseout.

Thesescreenshotsalsoclearlyshowedtheskullpatternofthestonesonthehilltop.Inamatterofhours,theconnectiontotheTombofHorrorsD&Dmodulewaspostedtoeverysingleguntermessageboard.Thenithitthenewsfeeds.

Allofthelargegunterclansimmediatelybandedtogethertolaunchafull-scaleassaultontheSixers’forcefield,tryingeverythingtheycouldthinkoftobringitdownorcircumventit.TheSixershadinstalledteleportationdisruptors,whichpreventedanyonefromtransportinginsidetheforcefieldviatechnologicalmeans.Theyhadalsostationedateamofhigh-levelwizardsaroundthetomb.Thesemagicuserscastspellsaroundtheclock,keepingtheentireareaencasedinatemporarynull-magiczone.

Thispreventedtheforcefieldsfrombeingbypassedbyanymagicalmeans.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd161

5/24/112:05PM

162:ErnestCline

Theclansbegantobombardtheouterforcefieldwithrockets,missiles,nukes,andharshlanguage.Theylaidsiegetothetomballnight,butthefollowingmorning,bothforcefieldsremainedintact.

Indesperation,theclansdecidedtobreakouttheheavyartillery.Theypooledtheirresourcesandpurchasedtwoveryexpensive,verypowerfulantimatterbombsoneBay.Theydetonatedbothoftheminsequence,justafewsecondsapart.Thefirstbombtookdowntheoutershield,andthesecondbombfinishedthejob.Themomentthesecondforcefieldwentdown,thousandsofgunters(allunharmedbythebombblasts,duetotheno-PvPzone)swarmedintothetombandcloggedthecorridorsofthedungeonbelow.Soon,thousandsofgunters(andSixers)hadcrammedintotheburialchamber,allreadytochallengethelichkingtoagameofJoust.Multiplecopiesofthekingappeared,oneforeveryavatarwhosetfootonthedais.Ninety-fivepercentofthegunterswhochallengedhimlostandwerethenkilled.Butafewguntersweresuccessful,andatthebottomoftheScoreboard,listedaftertheHighFiveandthedozensofIOIemployeenumbers,newavatarnamesbegantoappear.Withinafewdays,thelistofavatarsontheScoreboardwasoverahundrednameslong.

Nowthattheareawasfullofgunters,itbecameimpossiblefortheSixerstoputtheirforcefieldbackinoperation.Guntersweremobbingthemanddestroyingtheirshipsandequipmentonsight.SotheSixersgaveupontheirbarricade,buttheycontinuedtosendavatarsintotheTombofHorrorstofarmcopiesoftheCopperKey.Noonecoulddoanythingtostopthem.

Thedayaftertheexplosioninthestacks,therewasabriefstoryaboutitononeofthelocalnewsfeeds.Theyshowedavideoclipofvolunteerssiftingthroughthewreckageforhumanremains.Whattheydidfindcouldn’tbeidentified.

ItseemedthattheSixershadalsoplantedalargeamountofdrug-manufacturingequipmentandchemicalsatthescene,tomakeitlooklikeamethlabinoneofthetrailershadexploded.Itworkedlikeacharm.Thecopsdidn’tbothertoinvestigateanyfurther.Thestacksweresodensearoundthepileofcrushedandcharredtrailersthatitwastoodangeroustotrytoclearthemoutwithoneoftheoldconstructioncranes.Theyjustleftthewreckagewhereitwas,toslowlyrustintotheearth.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd162

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:163

Assoonasthefirstendorsementpaymentarrivedinmyaccount,Iboughtaone-waybustickettoColumbus,Ohio,settodepartateightthefollowingmorning.Ipaidextraforafirst-classseat,whichcamewithacomfierchairandahigh-bandwidthuplinkjack.IplannedtospendmostofthelongrideeastloggedintotheOASIS.

Oncemytripwasbooked,IinventoriedeverythinginmyhideoutandpackedtheitemsIwantedtotakewithmeintoanoldrucksack.Myschool-issuedOASISconsole,visor,andgloves.Mydog-earedprintoutofAnorak’sAlmanac.Mygraildiary.Someclothes.Mylaptop.EverythingelseIleftbehind.

Whenitgotdark,Iclimbedoutofthevan,lockedit,andhurledthekeysoffintothejunkpile.ThenIhoistedtherucksackandwalkedoutofthestacksforthelasttime.Ididn’tlookback.

Ikepttobusystreetsandmanagedtoavoidgettingmuggedonthewaytothebusterminal.Abatteredcustomer-servicekioskstoodjustinsidethedoor,andafteraquickretinalscanitspatoutmyticket.Isatbythegate,readingmycopyoftheAlmanac,untilitwastimetoboardthebus.

Itwasadouble-decker,witharmorplating,bulletproofwindows,andsolarpanelsontheroof.Arollingfortress.Ihadawindowseat,tworowsbehindthedriver,whowasencasedinabulletproofPlexiglasbox.Ateamofsixheavilyarmedguardsrodeonthebus’supperdeck,toprotectthevehicleanditspassengersintheeventofahijackingbyroadagentsorscavengers—adistinctpossibilityonceweventuredoutintothelawlessbadlandsthatnowexistedoutsideofthesafetyoflargecities.

Everysingleseatonthebuswasoccupied.Mostofthepassengersputontheirvisorsthemomenttheysatdown.Ileftmineoffforawhile,though.Longenoughtowatchthecityofmybirthrecedefromviewontheroadbehindusaswerolledthroughtheseaofwindturbinesthatsurroundedit.

Thebus’selectricmotorhadatopspeedofaboutfortymilesanhour,butduetothedeterioratinginterstatehighwaysystemandthecountlessstopsthebushadtomakeatchargingstationsalongtheway,ittookseveraldaysformetoreachmydestination.IspentnearlyallofthattimeloggedintotheOASIS,preparingtostartmynewlife.

Thefirstorderofbusinesswastocreateanewidentity.Thiswasn’tthatdifficult,nowthatIhadsomemoney.IntheOASIS,youcouldbuyalmostanykindofinformationifyouknewwheretolookandwhotoask,andClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd163

5/24/112:05PM

164:ErnestCline

ifyoudidn’tmindbreakingthelaw.Therewereplentyofdesperateandcorruptpeopleworkingforthegovernment(andforeverymajorcorporation),andthesepeopleoftensoldinformationontheOASISblackmarket.

Mynewstatusasaworld-famousguntergavemeallkindsofunder-worldcredibility,whichhelpedmegetaccesstoahighlyexclusiveillegaldata-auctionsiteknownastheL33tHax0rzWarezhaus,andforashockinglysmallamountofmoney,IwasabletopurchaseaseriesofaccessproceduresandpasswordsfortheUSCR(UnitedStatesCitizenRegistry)database.Usingthese,Iwasabletologintothedatabaseandaccessmyexistingcitizenprofile,whichhadbeencreatedwhenIenrolledforschool.

Ideletedmyfingerprintsandretinalpatterns,thenreplacedthemwiththoseofsomeonedeceased(myfather).ThenIcopiedmyownfingerprintsandretinalpatternsintoacompletelynewidentityprofilethatI’dcreated,underthenameBryceLynch.ImadeBrycetwenty-twoyearsoldandgavehimabrand-newSocialSecuritynumber,animmaculatecreditrating,andabachelor’sdegreeinComputerScience.WhenIwantedtobecomemyoldselfagain,allIhadtodowasdeletetheLynchidentityandcopymyprintsandretinalpatternsbackovertomyoriginalfile.

Oncemynewidentitywassetup,IbegansearchingtheColumbusclassifiedsforasuitableapartmentandfoundarelativelyinexpensiveroominanoldhigh-

risehotel,arelicfromthedayswhenpeoplephysicallytraveledforbusinessandpleasure.Theroomshadallbeenconvertedintoone-roomefficiencyapartments,andeachunithadbeenmodifiedtomeettheveryspecificneedsofafull-timegunter.IthadeverythingIwanted.Lowrent,ahigh-endsecuritysystem,andsteady,reliableaccesstoasmuchelectricityasIcouldafford.Mostimportant,itofferedadirectfiber-opticconnectiontothemainOASISservervault,whichwaslocatedjustafewmilesaway.ThiswasthefastestandmostsecuretypeofInternetconnectionavailable,andsinceitwasn’tprovidedbyIOIoroneofitssubsidiaries,Iwouldn’thavetobeparanoidaboutthemmonitoringmyconnectionortryingtotracemylocation.Iwouldbesafe.

Ispokewitharentalagentinachatroom,andheshowedmearoundavirtualmock-upofmynewdigs.Theplacelookedperfect.Irentedtheroomundermynewnameandpaidsixmonths’rentupfront.Thatkepttheagentfromaskinganyquestions.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd164

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:165

Sometimes,duringthelatehoursofthenight,asthebusslowlyhummedalongthecrumblinghighway,Iremovedmyvisorandstaredoutthewindow.I’dneverbeenoutsideofOklahomaCitybefore,andIwascurioustoseewhattherestofthecountrylookedlike.Buttheviewwasperpetuallybleak,andeachdecaying,overcrowdedcitywerolledthroughlookedjustlikethelast.

Finally,afteritfeltlikewe’dbeencrawlingalongthehighwayformonths,theColumbusskylineappearedonthehorizon,glitteringlikeOzattheendoftheyellowbrickroad.Wearrivedaroundsunset,andalreadythereweremoreelectriclightsburninginthecitythanI’deverseenatonetime.I’dreadthatgiantsolararrayswerepositionedthroughoutthecity,alongwithtwoheliostatpowerplantsonitsoutskirts.Theydrankinthesun’spowerallday,storedit,andfeditbackouteachnight.

AswepulledintotheColumbusbusterminal,myOASISconnectioncutout.AsIpulledoffmyvisorandfiledoffthebuswiththeotherpassengers,therealityofmysituationfinallybegantohithome.Iwasnowafugitive,livingunderanassumedname.Powerfulpeoplewereoutlookingforme.Peoplewhowantedmedead.

AsIsteppedoffthebus,Isuddenlyfeltasthoughaheavyweightwererestingonmychest.Iwashavingahardtimebreathing.MaybeIwashavingapanicattack.Iforcedmyselftotakedeepbreathsandtriedtocalmdown.AllIhadtodowastogettomynewapartment,setupmyrig,andlogbackintotheOASIS.Theneverythingwouldbeallright.Iwouldbebackinfamiliarsurroundings.Iwouldbesafe.

Ihailedanautocabandenteredmynewaddressonthetouchscreen.

Thesynthesizedvoiceofthecab’scomputertoldmethedrivewouldtakeanestimatedthirty-twominuteswiththecurrenttrafficconditions.Duringtheride,Istaredoutthewindowatthedarkcitystreets.Istillfeltlight-headedandanxious.Ikeptglancingatthemetertoseehowmuchfartherwehadtogo.Finally,thecabpulledupinfrontofmynewapartmentbuilding,aslate-graymonolithonthebanksoftheScioto,justattheedgeoftheTwinRiversghetto.Inoticedadiscoloredoutlineonthebuilding’sfaçadewheretheHiltonlogousedtobe,backwhentheplacehadbeenahotel.

Ithumbedmyfareandclimbedoutofthecab.ThenItookonelastlookaround,inhaledonefinalbreathoffreshair,andcarriedmybagthroughthefrontdoorandintothelobby.WhenIsteppedinsidethesecurityClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd165

5/24/112:05PM

166:ErnestCline

checkpointcage,myfingerprintsandretinalpatternswerescanned,andmynewnameflashedonthemonitor.Agreenlightlitupandthecagedoorslidopen,allowingmetocontinueontotheelevators.

Myapartmentwasontheforty-secondfloor,number4211.Thesecuritylock

mountedoutsiderequiredanotherretinalscan.Thenthedoorslidopenandtheinteriorlightsswitchedon.Therewasnofurnitureinthecube-shapedroom,andonlyonewindow.Isteppedinside,closedthedoor,andlockeditbehindme.ThenImadeasilentvownottogooutsideagainuntilIhadcompletedmyquest.IwouldabandontherealworldaltogetheruntilIfoundtheegg.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd166

5/24/112:05PM

LevelTwo

I’mnotcrazyaboutreality,butit’s

stilltheonlyplacetogetadecentmeal.

—GrouchoMarx

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd167

5/24/112:05PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd168

5/24/112:05PM

Art3mis:Youthere?

Parzival:Yes!Hey!Ican’tbelieveyoufinallyrespondedtooneofmychatrequests.

Art3mis:Onlytoaskyoutocutitout.It’sabadideaforustostartchatting.

Parzival:Why?Ithoughtwewerefriends.

Art3mis:Youseemlikeagreatguy.Butwe’recompetitors.Rivalgunters.Swornenemies.Youknowthedrill.

Parzival:Wedon’thavetotalkaboutanythingrelatedtotheHunt....

Art3mis:EverythingisrelatedtotheHunt.

Parzival:Comeon.Atleastgiveitatshot.Let’sstartover.Hi,Art3mis!Howhaveyoubeen?

Art3mis:Fine.Thanksforasking.You?

Parzival:Outstanding.Listen,whyareweusingthisancienttext-onlychatinterface?Icanhostavirtualchatroomforus.

Art3mis:Ipreferthis.

Parzival:Why?

Art3mis:Asyoumayrecall,Itendtorambleinrealtime.WhenIhavetotypeouteverythingIwanttosay,Icomeoffaslessofaflibbertigibbet.

Parzival:Idon’tthinkyou’reaflibbertigibbet.You’reenchanting.

Art3mis:Didyoujustusetheword“enchanting”?

Parzival:WhatItypedisrightthereinfrontofyou,isn’tit?

Art3mis:That’sverysweet.Butyou’refullofcrap.

Parzival:Iamtotallyandcompletelyserious.

Art3mis:So,how’slifeatthetopoftheScoreboard,hotshot?Sickofbeingfamousyet?

Parzival:Idon’tfeelfamous.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd169

5/24/112:05PM

170:ErnestCline

Art3mis:Areyoukidding?Thewholeworldisdyingtofindoutwhoyoureallyare.You’rearockstar,man.

Parzival:You’rejustasfamousasIam.AndifI’msucharockstar,howcomethemediaalwaysportraysmeassomeunwashedgeekwhonevergoesoutside?

Art3mis:ItakeityousawthatSNLskittheydidaboutus?

Parzival:Yes.WhydoeseveryoneassumeI’manantisocialnutjob?

Art3mis:You’renotantisocial?

Parzival:No!Maybe.OK,yes.ButIhaveexcellentpersonalhygiene.

Art3mis:Atleasttheygotyourgendercorrect.EveryonethinksI’mamaninreallife.

Parzival:That’sbecausemostguntersaremale,andtheycan’taccepttheideathatawomanhasbeatenand/oroutsmartedthem.

Art3mis:Iknow.Neanderthals.

Parzival:Soyou’retelingme,definitively,thatyouareafemale?IRL?

Art3mis:Youshouldhavealreadyfiguredthatoutonyourown,Clouseau.

Parzival:Idid.Ihave.

Art3mis:Haveyou?

Parzival:Yes.Afteranalyzingtheavailabledata,I’veconcludedthatyoumustbeafemale.

Art3mis:WhymustI?

Parzival:BecauseIdon’twanttofindoutthatI’vegotacrushonsome300lb.dudenamedChuckwholivesinhismother’sbasementinsuburbanDetroit.

Art3mis:You’vegotacrushonme?

Parzival:Youshouldhavealreadyfiguredthatoutonyourown,Clouseau.

Art3mis:WhatifIwerea300lb.galnamedCharlene,wholivesinhermom’sbasementinsuburbanDetroit?Wouldyoustillhaveacrushonmethen?

Parzival:Idon’tknow.Doyouliveinyourmother’sbasement?

Art3mis:No.

Parzival:Yeah.ThenIprobablystillwould.

Art3mis:SoI’msupposedtobelieveyou’reoneofthosemythicalguyswhoonlycaresaboutawoman’spersonality,andnotaboutthepackageitcomesin?

Parzival:WhyisitthatyouassumeI’maman?

Art3mis:Please.It’sobvious.Igetnothingbutboy-vibescomingfromyou.

Parzival:Boy-vibes?What,doIusemasculinesentencestructureorsomething?

Art3mis:Don’tchangethesubject.Youweresayingyouhaveacrushonme?

Parzival:I’vehadacrushonyousincebeforeweevenmet.FromreadingyourblogandwatchingyourPOV.I’vebeencyber-stalkingyouforyears.

Art3mis:Butyoustilldon’treallyknowanythingaboutme.Ormyrealpersonality.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd170

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:171

Parzival:ThisistheOASIS.Weexistasnothingbutrawpersonalityinhere.

Art3mis:Ibegtodiffer.Everythingaboutouronlinepersonasisfilteredthroughouravatars,whichallowsustocontrolhowwelookandsoundtoothers.TheOASISletsyoubewhoeveryouwanttobe.That’swhyeveryoneisaddictedtoit.

Parzival:So,IRL,you’renothinglikethepersonImetthatnightinthetomb?

Art3mis:Thatwasjustonesideofme.ThesideIchosetoshowyou.

Parzival:Wel,Ilikedthatside.Andifyoushowedmeyourothersides,I’msureI’dlikethose,too.

Art3mis:Yousaythatnow.ButIknowhowthesethingswork.Soonerorlater,you’lldemandtoseeapictureoftherealme.

Parzival:I’mnotthesortwhomakesdemands.Besides,I’mdefinitelynotgoingtoshowyouaphotoofme.

Art3mis:Why?Areyoubuttugly?

Parzival:You’resuchahypocrite!

Art3mis:So?Answerthequestion,Claire.Areyouugly?

Parzival:Imustbe.

Art3mis:Why?

Parzival:Thefemaleofthespecieshasalwaysfoundmerepellent.

Art3mis:Idon’tfindyourepellent.

Parzival:Ofcoursenot.That’sbecauseyou’reanobesemannamedChuckwholikestochatupuglyyoungboysonline.

Art3mis:Soyou’reayoungman?

Parzival:Relativelyyoung.

Art3mis:Relativetowhat?

Parzival:Toafifty-three-year-oldguylikeyou,Chuck.Doesyourmomletyouliveinthatbasementrent-freeorwhat?

Art3mis:Isthatreallywhatyou’repicturing?

Parzival:Ifitwere,Iwouldn’tbechattingwithyourightnow.

Art3mis:SowhatdoyouimagineIlooklike,then?

Parzival:Likeyouravatar,Isuppose.Except,youknow,withoutthearmor,guns,orglowingsword.

Art3mis:You’rekidding,right?That’sthefirstruleofonlineromances,pal.Nooneeverlooksanythingliketheiravatar.

Parzival:Arewegoingtohaveanonlineromance?

Art3mis:Noway,ace.Sorry.

Parzival:Whynot?

Art3mis:Notimeforlove,Dr.Jones.Mycyber-pornaddictioneatsupmostofmyfreetime.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd171

5/24/112:05PM

172:ErnestCline

AndsearchingfortheJadeKeytakesuptherest.That’swhatIshouldbedoingrightnow,infact.

Parzival:Yeah.SoshouldI.Buttalkingtoyouismorefun.

Art3mis:Howaboutyou?

Parzival:Howaboutmewhat?

Art3mis:Doyouhavetimeforanonlineromance?

Parzival:I’vegottimeforyou.

Art3mis:You’retoomuch.

Parzival:I’mnotevenlayingitonthickyet.

Art3mis:Doyouhaveajob?Orareyoustillinhighschool?

Parzival:Highschool.Igraduatenextweek.

Art3mis:Youshouldn’trevealstufflikethat!IcouldbeaSixerspytryingtoprofileyou.

Parzival:TheSixersalreadyprofiledme,remember?Theyblewupmyhouse.Wel,itwasatrailer.Buttheyblewitup.

Art3mis:Iknow.I’mstillfreakedoutaboutthat.Icanonlyimaginehowyoufeel.

Parzival:Revengeisadishbestservedcold.

Art3mis:Bonappetit.Whatdoyoudowhenyou’renothunting?

Parzival:Irefusetoansweranymorequestionsuntilyoustartreciprocating.

Art3mis:Fine.Quidproquo,Dr.Lecter.We’ltaketurnsaskingquestions.Goahead.

Parzival:Doyouwork,orgotoschool?

Art3mis:College.

Parzival:Studyingwhat?

Art3mis:It’smyturn.Whatdoyoudowhenyou’renothunting?

Parzival:Nothing.HuntingisallIdo.I’mhuntingrightnow,infact.

Multitaskingalloverthegoddamnplace.

Art3mis:Samehere.

Parzival:Really?I’llkeepaneyeontheScoreboardthen.Justincase.

Art3mis:Youdothat,ace.

Parzival:Whatareyoustudying?Incollege?

Art3mis:PoetryandCreativeWriting.

Parzival:Thatmakessense.You’reafantasticwriter.

Art3mis:Thanksforthecompliment.Howoldareyou?

Parzival:Justturned18lastmonth.You?

Art3mis:Don’tyouthinkwe’regettingalittletoopersonalnow?

Parzival:Notevenremotely.

Art3mis:19.

Parzival:Ah.Anolderwoman.Hot.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd172

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:173

Art3mis:Thatis,ifIamawoman...

Parzival:Areyouawoman?

Art3mis:It’snotyourturn.

Parzival:Fine.

Art3mis:HowwelldoyouknowAech?

Parzival:He’sbeenmybestfriendforfiveyears.Now,spillit.Areyouawoman?AndbythatImeanareyouahumanfemalewhohasneverhadasex-changeoperation?

Art3mis:That’sprettyspecific.

Parzival:Answerthequestion,Claire.

Art3mis:Iam,andalwayshavebeen,ahumanfemale.HaveyouevermetAechIRL?

Parzival:No.Doyouhaveanysiblings?

Art3mis:No.You?

Parzival:Nope.Yougotparents?

Art3mis:Theydied.Theflu.SoIwasraisedbymygrandparents.Yougotparentage?

Parzival:No.Minearedeadtoo.

Art3mis:Itkindasucks,doesn’tit?Nothavingyourparentsaround.

Parzival:Yeah.Butalotofpeopleareworseoffthanme.

Art3mis:Itellmyselfthatallthetime.So...areyouandAechworkingasaduo?

Parzival:Oh,herewego....

Art3mis:Well?Areyou?

Parzival:No.Heaskedmethesamethingaboutyouandme,youknow.BecauseyouclearedtheFirstGateafewhoursafterIdid.

Art3mis:Whichremindsme—whydidyougivemethattip?AboutchangingsidesontheJoustgame?

Parzival:Ifeltlikehelpingyou.

Art3mis:Well,youshouldn’tmakethatmistakeagain.BecauseI’mtheonewho’sgoingtowin.Youdorealizethat,right?

Parzival:Yeah,yeah.We’lsee.

Art3mis:You’renotholdingupyourendofourQ&A,goof.You’re,like,fivequestionsbehind.

Parzival:Fine.Whatcolorisyourhair?IRL?

Art3mis:Brunette.

Parzival:Eyes?

Art3mis:Blue.

Parzival:Justlikeyouravatar,eh?Doyouhavethesamefaceandbody,too?

Art3mis:Asfarasyouknow.

Parzival:OK.What’syourfavoritemovie?Ofalltime?

Art3mis:Itchanges.Rightnow?ProbablyHighlander.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd173

5/24/112:05PM

174:ErnestCline

Parzival:You’vegotgreattaste,lady.

Art3mis:Iknow.Ihaveathingforevilbaldbadguys.TheKurganistoosexy.

Parzival:I’mgoingtoshavemyheadrightnow.Andstartwearingleather.

Art3mis:Sendphotos.Listen,Igottagoinafewminutes,Romeo.Youcanask

meonelastquestion.ThenIneedtogetsomesleep.

Parzival:Whencanwechatagain?

Art3mis:Afteroneofusfindstheegg.

Parzival:Thatcouldtakeyears.

Art3mis:Sobeit.

Parzival:CanIatleastkeepe-mailingyou?

Art3mis:Notagoodidea.

Parzival:Youcan’tstopmefrome-mailingyou.

Art3mis:Actually,Ican.Icanblockyouonmycontactlist.

Parzival:Youwouldn’tdothat,though.Wouldyou?

Art3mis:Notifyoudon’tforcemeto.

Parzival:Harsh.Unnecessarilyharsh.

Art3mis:Goodnight,Parzival.

Parzival:Farewell,Art3mis.Sweetdreams.

chatlogends.2.27.2045–02:51:38OST

Istartede-mailingher.AtfirstIshowedrestraintandonlywroteheronceaweek.Tomysurprise,sheneverfailedtorespond.Usuallyitwaswithjustasinglesentence,sayingshewastoobusytoreply.Butherreplieseventuallygotlongerandwebegantocorrespond.Afewtimesaweekatfirst.Then,asoure-mailsgrewlongerandmorepersonal,westartedwritingeachotheratleastonceaday.Sometimesmore.Wheneverane-mailfromherarrivedinmyinbox,Idroppedeverythingtoreadit.

Beforelong,weweremeetinginprivatechat-roomsessionsatleastonceaday.

Weplayedvintageboardgames,watchedmovies,andlistenedtomusic.Wetalkedforhours.Long,ramblingconversationsabouteverythingunderthesun.Spendingtimewithherwasintoxicating.Weseemedtohaveeverythingincommon.Wesharedthesameinterests.Weweredrivenbythesamegoal.Shegotallofmyjokes.Shemademelaugh.Shemademethink.ShechangedthewayIsawtheworld.I’dneverhadsuchapowerful,immediateconnectionwithanotherhumanbeingbefore.NotevenwithAech.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd174

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:175

Inolongercaredthatweweresupposedtoberivals,andshedidn’tseemtoeither.Webegantosharedetailsaboutourresearch.Wetoldeachotherwhatmovieswewerecurrentlywatchingandwhatbookswewerereading.WeevenbegantoexchangetheoriesandtodiscussourinterpretationsofspecificpassagesintheAlmanac.Icouldn’tmakemyselfbecautiousaroundher.Alittlevoiceinmyheadkepttryingtotellmethateverywordshesaidcouldbedisinformationandthatshemightjustbeplayingmeforafool.ButIdidn’tbelieveit.Itrustedher,eventhoughIhadeveryreasonnotto.

IgraduatedfromhighschoolinearlyJune.Ididn’tattendthegraduationceremony.I’dstoppedattendingclassesaltogetherwhenIfledthestacks.AsfarasIknew,theSixersthoughtIwasdead,andIdidn’twanttotipthemoffbyshowingupformylastfewweeksofschool.Missingfinalsweekwasn’tabigdeal,sinceIalreadyhadmorethanenoughcreditstoreceivemydiploma.Theschoole-mailedacopyofittome.Theysnail-mailedtheactualdiplomatomyaddressinthestacks,whichnolongerexisted,soIdon’tknowwhatbecameofit.

WhenIfinishedschool,I’dintendedtodevoteallofmytimetotheHunt.ButallIreallywantedtodowasspendtimewithArt3mis.

WhenIwasn’thangingoutwithmynewonlinepseudo-girlfriend,Idevotedthe

restofmytimetolevelingupmyavatar.Gunterscalledthis

“makingtheclimbtoninety-nine,”becauseninety-ninthlevelwasthemaximumpowerlevelanavatarcouldattain.Art3misandAechhadbothrecentlydoneit,andIfeltcompelledtocatchup.Itactuallydidn’ttakemeverylong.Inowhadnothingbutfreetime,andIhadthemoneyandthemeanstofullyexploretheOASIS.SoIbegantocompleteeveryquestIcouldfind,sometimesjumpingfiveorsixlevelsinoneday.Ibecameasplit-classWarrior/Mage.Asmystatscontinuedtoincrease,Ihonedmyavatar’scombatandspell-castingabilitieswhilecollectingawidearrayofpowerfulweapons,magicitems,andvehicles.

Art3misandIeventeamedupforafewquests.WevisitedtheplanetGoondocksandfinishedtheentireGooniesquestinjustoneday.ArtyplayedthroughitasMarthaPlimpton’scharacter,Stef,whileIplayedasMikey,SeanAstin’scharacter.Itwasentirelytoomuchfun.

Ididn’tspendallofmytimegoofingoff.ItriedtokeepmyheadintheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd175

5/24/112:05PM

176:ErnestCline

game.ReallyIdid.Atleastonceaday,IwouldpulluptheQuatrainandtryonceagaintodecipheritsmeaning.

Forawhile,Ithoughtthatthewhistleinthethirdlinemightbeareferencetoalate-’60sJapaneseTVshowcalledTheSpaceGiants,whichhadbeendubbedinEnglishandrebroadcastintheUnitedStatesinthe’70sand’80s.TheSpaceGiants(calledMagumaTaishiinJapan)featuredafamilyoftransformingrobotswholivedinavolcanoandbattledanevilalienvillainnamedRodak.HallidayreferredtothisshowseveraltimesinAnorak’sAlmanac,citingitasoneofhischildhoodfavorites.Oneoftheshow’smaincharacterswasaboynamedMiko,whowouldblowaspecialwhistletosummontherobotstohisaid.Iwatchedallfifty-twoultra-cheesyepisodesofTheSpaceGiants,back-to-back,whilewolfingdowncornchipsandtakingnotes.Butwhentheviewingmarathonwasover,Istillwasn’tanyclosertounderstandingtheQuatrain’smeaning.I’dhitanotherdeadend.IdecidedthatHallidaymustbereferringtosomeotherwhistle.

Then,oneSaturdaymorning,Ifinallymadeasmallbreakthrough.

Iwaswatchingacollectionofvintage’80scerealcommercialswhenIpausedtowonderwhycerealmanufacturersnolongerincludedtoyprizesinsideeverybox.Itwasatragedy,inmyopinion.Anothersignthatcivilizationwasgoingstraightdownthetubes.IwasstillponderingthiswhenanoldCap’nCrunchcommercialcameon,andthatwaswhenImadeaconnectionbetweenthefirstandthirdlinesoftheQuatrain:ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey...Butyoucanonlyblowthewhistle...

Hallidaywasalludingtoafamous’70shackernamedJohnDraper,betterknownbythealiasCaptainCrunch.Draperwasoneofthefirstphonephreaks,andhewasfamousfordiscoveringthatthetoyplasticwhistlesfoundasprizesinboxesofCap’nCrunchcerealcouldbeusedtomakefreelong-distancephonecalls,becausetheyemitteda2600-hertztonethattrickedtheoldanalogphonesystemintogivingyoufreeaccesstotheline.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd176

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:177

Thathadtobeit.“Thecaptain”wasCap’nCrunch,and“thewhistle”

wasthefamoustoyplasticwhistleofphonephreaklore.

MaybetheJadeKeywasdisguisedasoneofthosetoyplasticwhistles,anditwashiddeninaboxofCap’nCrunchcereal....Butwherewasthatcerealboxhidden?

Inadwellinglongneglected

Istilldidn’tknowwhatlong-neglecteddwellingthatlinereferredto,orwheretolookforit.IvisitedeveryneglecteddwellingIcouldthinkof.Re-creationsoftheAddamsFamilyhouse,theabandonedshackintheEvilDeadtrilogy,TylerDurden’sflophouseinFightClub,andtheLarsHomesteadonTattooine.NoluckfindingtheJadeKeyinsideanyofthem.

Deadendafterdeadend.

Oncethetrophiesareallcollected

Istillhadn’tdecipheredthemeaningofthatlastline,either.WhattrophiesdidIhavetocollect?Orwasthatsomekindofhalf-assedmetaphor?

TherehadtobeasimpleconnectionIwasn’tmaking,aslyreferencethatIstillwasn’tcleverorknowledgeableenoughtocatch.

Sincethen,I’dfailedtomakeanymoreprogress.EverytimeIrevisitedtheQuatrain,myongoinginfatuationwithArt3miswouldunderminemyabilitytofocus,andbeforelongIwouldclosemygraildiaryandcallheruptoseeifshewantedtohangout.Shealmostalwaysdid.

Iconvincedmyselfthatitwasallrighttoslackoffabit,becausenooneelseseemedtobemakinganyprogressintheirsearchfortheJadeKey.

TheScoreboardremainedunchanged.EveryoneelseseemedtobejustasstumpedasIwas.

Astheweekscontinuedtopass,Art3misandIspentmoreandmoretimetogether.Evenwhenouravatarsweredoingotherthings,weweresendinge-mailsandinstantmessagestoeachother.Ariverofwordsflowedbetweenus.

Iwantedmorethananythingtomeetherintherealworld.Face-to-face.ButIdidn’ttellherthis.Iwascertainshehadstrongfeelingsforme,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd177

5/24/112:05PM

178:ErnestCline

butshealsokeptmeatadistance.NomatterhowmuchIrevealedaboutmyselftoher—andIwounduprevealingjustabouteverything,includingmyrealname—shealwaysadamantlyrefusedtorevealanydetailsaboutherownlife.AllIknewwasthatshewasnineteenandthatshelivedsomewhereinthePacificNorthwest.Thatwasallshewouldtellme.

Theimageofherthatformedinmymindwasthemostobviousone.

Ipicturedherasaphysicalmanifestationofheravatar.Iimaginedherwiththesameface,eyes,hair,andbody.Eventhoughshetoldmerepeatedlythatinrealityshelookedalmostnothinglikeheravatarandthatshewasn’tnearlyasattractiveinperson.

WhenIbegantospendmostofmytimewithArt3mis,AechandIbegantogrowapart.Insteadofhangingoutseveraltimesaweek,wechattedafewtimesamonth.AechknewIwasfallingforArt3mis,buthenevergavemetoomuchgriefaboutit,evenwhenIwouldbailonhimatthelastminutetohangoutwithherinstead.Hewouldjustshrug,tellmetobecareful,andsay,“Isurehopeyou

knowwhatyou’redoing,Z.”

Ididn’t,ofcourse.MywholerelationshipwithArt3miswasindefianceofallcommonsense.ButIcouldn’thelpfallingforher.Somehow,withoutmyrealizingit,myobsessionwithfindingHalliday’sEastereggwasgraduallybeingsupplantedbymyobsessionwithArt3mis.

Eventually,sheandIbegantogoouton“dates,”takingdaytripstoexoticOASISlocalesandexclusivenightspots.Atfirst,Art3misprotested.

ShethoughtIshouldkeepalowprofile,becauseassoonasmyavatarwasspottedinpublic,theSixerswouldknowthattheirattempttokillmehadfailed,andI’dbebackontheirhitlist.ButItoldherInolongercared.IwasalreadyhidingfromtheSixersintherealworld,andIrefusedtocontinuehidingfromthemintheOASIS,too.Besides,Ihadaninety-ninth-levelavatarnow.Ifeltnighinvincible.

MaybeIwasjusttryingtoimpressArt3misbyactingfearless.Ifso,Ithinkitworked.

Westilldisguisedouravatarsbeforewewentout,becauseweknewtherewouldbetabloidheadlinesgaloreifParzivalandArt3misstartedshowingupinpublictogetheronaregularbasis.Buttherewasoneexception.Onenight,shetookmetoseetheRockyHorrorPictureShowinahugestadium-sizedmovietheaterontheplanetTranssexual,wheretheyheldthemosthighlyattendedandlongest-runningweeklyscreeningofthemovieintheOASIS.Thousandsofavatarscametoeveryshow,tositClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd178

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:179

inthestandsandrevelintheaudienceparticipation.Normally,onlylong-standingmembersoftheRockyHorrorFanClubwerepermittedtogetuponstageandhelpactoutthefilminfrontofthegiantmoviescreen,andonlyafterthey’dpassedagruelingauditionprocess.ButArt3misusedherfametopullafewstrings,andsheandIwerebothallowedtojointhecastforthatnight’sshow.Thewholeplanetwasinano-PvPzone,soIwasn’tworriedabout

gettingambushedbytheSixers.ButIdidhaveaseriouscaseofstagefrightwhentheshowbegan.

Art3misplayedanote-perfectColumbia,andIhadthehonorofplayingherundeadloveinterest,Eddie.Ialteredmyavatar’sappearancesothatIlookedexactlylikeMeatLoafdidintherole,butmyperformanceandlip-synchingstillkindasucked.Luckily,theaudiencecutmealotofslack,becauseIwasthefamousgunterParzival,andIwasclearlyhavingablast.

ThatnightwaseasilythemostfunI’deverhadinmylifeuptothatpoint.ItoldArt3missoafterward,andthatwaswhensheleanedoverandkissedmeforthefirsttime.Icouldn’tfeelit,ofcourse.Butitstillsetmyheartracing.

I’dheardalltheclichédwarningsabouttheperilsoffallingforsomeoneyouonlyknewonline,butIignoredthem.IdecidedthatwhoeverArt3misreallywas,Iwasinlovewithher.Icouldfeelit,deepinthesoft,chewycaramelcenterofmybeing.

Andthenonenight,likeacompleteidiot,ItoldherhowIfelt.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd179

5/24/112:05PM

ItwasaFridaynight,andIwasspendinganothersolitaryeveningdoingresearch,workingmywaythrougheveryepisodeofWhizKids,anearly-’80sTVshowaboutateenagehackerwhouseshiscomputerskillstosolvemysteries.I’djustfinishedwatchingtheepisode“DeadlyAccess”

(acrossoverwithSimon&Simon)whenane-mailarrivedinmyinbox.

ItwasfromOgdenMorrow.Thesubjectlineread“WeCanDanceIfWeWantTo.”

Therewasnotextinthebodyofthee-mail.Justafileattachment—aninvitationtooneofthemostexclusivegatheringsintheOASIS:OgdenMorrow’sbirthday

party.Intherealworld,Morrowalmostnevermadepublicappearances,andintheOASIS,hecameoutofhidingonlyonceayear,tohostthisevent.

TheinvitationfeaturedaphotoofMorrow’sworld-famousavatar,theGreatandPowerfulOg.Thegray-beardedwizardwashunchedoveranelaborateDJmixingboard,oneheadphonepressedtohisear,bitinghislowerlipinauditoryecstasyashisfingersscratchedancientvinylonasetofsilverturntables.Hisrecordcrateboreadon’tpanicstickerandananti-Sixerlogo—ayellownumbersixwitharedcircle-and-slashoverit.

Thetextatthebottomread

OgdenMorrow’s’80sDanceParty

incelebrationofhis73rdbirthday!

Tonight—10pmOSTattheDistractedGlobe

ADMITONE

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd180

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:181

Iwasflabbergasted.OgdenMorrowhadactuallytakenthetimetoinvitemetohisbirthdayparty.ItfeltlikethegreatesthonorI’deverreceived.

IcalledArt3mis,andsheconfirmedthatshe’dreceivedthesamee-mail.Shesaidshecouldn’tpassupaninvitationfromOghimself,despitetheobviousrisks.So,naturally,ItoldherIwouldmeetherthereattheclub.ItwastheonlywayIcouldavoidlookinglikeatotalwuss.

IknewthatifOghadinvitedthetwoofus,he’dprobablyalsoinvitedtheothermembersoftheHighFive.ButAechprobablywouldn’tshowup,becausehecompetedinagloballytelevisedarenadeathmatcheveryFridaynight.AndShotoandDaitoneverenteredaPvPzoneunlessitwasabsolutelynecessary.

TheDistractedGlobewasafamouszero-gravitydanceclubontheplanetNeonoirinSectorSixteen.OgdenMorrowhadcodedtheplacehimselfdecadesagoandwasstillitssoleowner.I’dnevervisitedtheGlobebefore.Iwasn’tmuchfordancing,orforsocializingwiththetwinked-outwannabe-gunterüberdorkswhowereknowntofrequenttheplace.ButOg’sbirthdaypartywasaspecialevent,andsotheusualclientelewouldbebanishedfortheevening.Tonight,theclubwouldbepackedwithcelebrities—moviestars,musicians,andatleasttwomembersoftheHighFive.

Ispentoveranhourtweakingmyavatar’shairandtryingondifferentskinstoweartotheclub.Ifinallysettledonsomeclassic’80s-eraattire:alightgraysuit,exactlyliketheonePeterWellerworeinBuckarooBanzai,completewitharedbowtie,alongwithapairofvintagewhiteAdidashigh-tops.Ialsoloadedmyinventorywithmybestsuitofbodyarmorandalargeamountofweaponry.OneofthereasonstheGlobewassuchahip,exclusiveclubwasbecauseitwaslocatedinaPvPzone,onewherebothmagicandtechnologyfunctioned.Soitwasextremelydangeroustogothere.Especiallyforafamousgunterlikeme.

Therewerehundredsofcyberpunk-themedworldsspreadthroughouttheOASIS,butNeonoirwasoneofthelargestandoldest.Seenfromorbit,theplanetwasashinyonyxmarblecoveredinoverlappingspiderwebsofpulsatinglight.ItwasalwaysnightonNeonoir,theworldover,anditssurfacewasanuninterruptedgridofinterconnectedcitiespackedwithimpossiblylargeskyscrapers.Itsskieswerefilledwithacontinuousstreamofflyingvehicleswhirringthroughtheverticalcityscapes,andthestreetsbelowteemedwithleather-cladNPCsandmirror-shadedava-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd181

5/24/112:05PM

182:ErnestCline

tars,allsportinghigh-techweaponryandsubcutaneousimplantsastheyspoutedcity-speakstraightoutofNeuromancer.

TheDistractedGlobewaslocatedatthewestern-hemisphereintersectionoftheBoulevardandtheAvenue,twobrightlylitstreetsthatstretchedcompletelyaroundtheplanetalongitsequatorandprimeme-ridian.Theclubitselfwasa

massivecobaltbluesphere,threekilometersindiameter,floatingthirtymetersofftheground.Afloatingcrystalstaircaseleduptotheclub’sonlyentrance,acircularopeningatthebottomofthesphere.

ImadeabigentrancewhenIarrivedinmyflyingDeLorean,whichI’dobtainedbycompletingaBacktotheFuturequestontheplanetZemeckis.

TheDeLoreancameoutfittedwitha(nonfunctioning)fluxcapacitor,butI’dmadeseveraladditionstoitsequipmentandappearance.First,I’dinstalledanartificiallyintelligentonboardcomputernamedKITT(purchasedinanonlineauction)intothedashboard,alongwithamatchingredKnightRiderscannerjustabovetheDeLorean’sgrill.ThenI’doutfittedthecarwithanoscillationoverthruster,adevicethatallowedittotravelthroughsolidmatter.Finally,tocompletemy’80ssuper-vehicletheme,I’dslappedaGhostbusterslogooneachoftheDeLorean’sgull-wingdoors,thenaddedpersonalizedplatesthatreadecto-88.

I’dhaditonlyafewweeksnow,butmytime-traveling,GhostBust-ing,KnightRiding,matter-penetratingDeLoreanhadalreadybecomemyavatar’strademark.

IknewthatleavingmysweetrideparkedinaPvPzonewasanopeninvitationforsomemorontotrytoboostit.TheDeLoreanhadseveralantitheftsystemsinstalled,andtheignitionsystemwasbooby-trappedMaxRockatansky–stylesothatifanyotheravatartriedtostartthecar,theplutoniumchamberwoulddetonateinasmallthermonuclearexplosion.Butkeepingmycarsafewouldn’tbeaproblemhereonNeonoir.AssoonasIclimbedoutoftheDeLoreanIcastaShrinkspellonit,instantlyreducingittothesizeofaMatchboxcar.ThenIputtheDeLoreaninmypocket.Magiczoneshadtheiradvantages.

Thousandsofavatarswerepackedupagainstthevelvetropeforcefieldsthatkepteveryonewithoutaninvitationatbay.AsIwalkedtowardtheentrance,thecrowdbombardedmewithamixofinsults,autographrequests,deaththreats,andtearfuldeclarationsofundyinglove.Ihadmybodyshieldactivated,butsurprisingly,noonetookashotatme.IflashedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd182

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:183

thecyborgdoormanmyinvitation,thenmountedthelongcrystalstaircaseleadingupintotheclub.

EnteringtheDistractedGlobewasmorethanalittledisorienting.Theinsideofthegiantspherewascompletelyhollow,anditscurvedinteriorsurfaceservedastheclub’sbarandloungearea.Themomentyoupassedthroughtheentrance,thelawsofgravitychanged.Nomatterwhereyouwalked,youravatar’sfeetalwaysadheredtotheinteriorofthesphere,soyoucouldwalkinastraightline,uptothe“top”oftheclub,thenbackdowntheotherside,endinguprightbackwhereyoustarted.Thehugeopenspaceinthecenterofthesphereservedastheclub’szero-gravity

“dancefloor.”Youreacheditsimplybyjumpingofftheground,likeSupermantakingflight,andthenswimmingthroughtheair,intothesphericalzero-g“groovezone.”

AsIsteppedthroughtheentrance,Iglancedup—orinthedirectionthatwascurrently“up”tomeatthemoment—andtookalonglookaround.Theplacewaspacked.Hundredsofavatarsmilledaroundlikeantscrawlingaroundtheinsideofagiantballoon.Otherswerealreadyoutonthedancefloor—spinning,flying,twisting,andtumblingintimewiththemusic,whichthumpedoutoffloatingsphericalspeakersthatdriftedthroughouttheclub.

Inthemiddleofallthedancers,alargeclearbubblewassuspendedinspace,attheabsolutecenteroftheclub.Thiswasthe“booth”wheretheDJstood,surroundedbyturntables,mixers,decks,anddials.AtthecenterofallthatgearwastheopeningDJ,R2-D2,hardatwork,usinghisvariousroboticarmstoworktheturntables.Irecognizedthetunehewasplaying:the’88remixofNewOrder’s“BlueMonday,”withalotofStarWarsdroidsoundsamplesmixedin.

AsImademywaytothenearestbar,theavatarsIpassedallstoppedtostareandpointinmydirection.Ididn’tpaythemmuchnotice,becauseIwasbusyscanningtheclubforArt3mis.

WhenIreachedthebar,IorderedaPan-GalacticGargleBlasterfromthefemaleKlingonbartenderanddownedhalfofit.ThenIgrinnedasR2cuedupanotherclassic’80stune.“‘UnionoftheSnake,’”Irecited,mostlyoutofhabit.“DuranDuran.Nineteeneighty-three.”

“Notbad,ace,”saidafamiliarvoice,speakingjustloudenoughtobeheardoverthemusic.IturnedtoseeArt3misstandingbehindme.Shewaswearingeveningattire:agunmetalbluedressthatlookedlikeitwasClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd183

5/24/112:05PM

184:ErnestCline

spray-paintedon.Heravatar’sdarkhairwasstyledinapageboycut,perfectlyframinghergorgeousface.Shelookeddevastating.

Sheshoutedatthebarkeep.“Glenmorangie.Ontherocks.”

Ismiledtomyself.ConnorMacLeod’sfavoritedrink.Man,didIlovethisgirl.

Shewinkedatmeasherdrinkappeared.Thensheclinkedherglassagainstmineanddowneditscontentsinoneswallow.Thechatteringoftheavatarsaroundusgrewinvolume.WordthatParzivalandArt3miswerehere,chattingeachotherupatthebar,wasalreadyspreadingthroughtheentireclub.

Art3misglancedupatthedancefloor,thenbackatme.“Sohowaboutit,Percy?”shesaid.“Feellikecuttingarug?”

Iscowled.“Notifyoukeepcallingme‘Percy.’”

Shelaughed.Justthen,thecurrentsongended,andtheclubgrewsilent.Alleyesturnedupward,towardtheDJbooth,whereR2-D2wascurrentlydissolvinginashoweroflight,likesomeone“beamingout”inanoriginalStarTrekepisode.Thenahugecheerwentupasafamiliargray-hairedavatarbeamedin,appearingbehindtheturntables.ItwasOg.

Hundredsofvidfeedwindowsmaterializedintheair,allovertheclub.

Eachdisplayedaliveclose-upimageofOginthebooth,sothateveryonecouldseehisavatarclearly.Theoldwizardwaswearingbaggyjeans,san-dals,andafadedStarTrek:TheNextGenerationT-shirt.Hewavedtotheassembled,thencueduphisfirsttrack,adanceremixof“RebelYell”byBillyIdol.

Acheersweptacrossthedancefloor.

“Ilovethissong!”Art3misshouted.Hereyesdarteduptothedancefloor.Ilookedatheruncertainly.“What’swrong?”shesaidwithmocksympathy.“Can’ttheboydance?”

Sheabruptlylockedintothebeat,bobbingherhead,gyratingherhips.

Thenshepushedofffromthefloorwithbothfeetandbegantofloatupward,driftingtowardthegroovezone.Istaredupather,temporarilyfrozen,musteringmycourage.

“Allright,”Imutteredtomyself.“Whatthehell.”

Ibentmykneesandpushedoffhardfromthefloor.Myavatartookflight,driftingupwardandslidingalongsideArt3mis.Theavatarswhowerealreadyonthedancefloormovedasidetoclearapathforus,atunnelleadingtothecenterofthedancefloor.IcouldseeOghoveringinClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd184

5/24/112:05PM

ReadyPlayerOne:185

hisbubble,justashortdistanceaboveus.Hewasspinningaroundlikeadervish,remixingthesongontheflywhilesimultaneouslyadjustingthegravityvortexofthedancefloor,sothathewasactuallyspinningtheclubitself,likeanancientvinyldisc.

Art3miswinkedatme,andthenherlegsmeltedtogethertoformamermaid’stail.Sheflappedhernewtailfinonceandshotaheadofme,herbodyundulatingandthrustingintimewiththemachine-gunbeatassheswamthroughtheair.Thenshespunbackaroundtofaceme,suspendedandfloating,smilingandholdingoutherhand,beckoningmetojoinher.

Herhairfloatedinahaloaroundherhead,likeshewasunderwater.

WhenIreachedher,shetookmyhand.Asshedid,hermermaidtailvanished

andherlegsreappeared,whirlingandscissoringtothebeat.

Nottrustingmyinstinctsanyfurther,Iloadedupapieceofhigh-endavatardancesoftwarecalledTravoltra,whichI’ddownloadedandtestedearlierthatevening.TheprogramtookcontrolofParzival’smovements,synchingthemupwiththemusic,andallfourofmylimbsweretransformedintoundulatingcosinewaves.Justlikethat,Ibecameadancingfool.

Art3mis’seyeslitupinsurpriseanddelight,andshebegantomirrormymovements,thetwoofusorbitingeachotherlikeacceleratedelectrons.ThenArt3misbeganshape-shifting.

Heravatarlostitshumanformanddissolvedintoapulsingamorphousblobthatchangeditssizeandcolorinsynchwiththemusic.Iselectedthemirrorpartneroptiononmydancesoftwareandbegantodothesame.

Myavatar’slimbsandtorsobegantoflowandspinliketaffy,encirclingArt3mis,whilestrangecolorpatternsflowedandshiftedacrossmyskin.

IlookedlikePlasticMan,ifheweretrippingoutofhismindonLSD.

Theneveryoneelseonthedanceflooralsobegantoshape-shift,meltingintoprismaticblobsoflight.Soon,thecenteroftheclublookedlikesomeotherworldlylavalamp.

Whenthesongended,Ogtookabow,thenqueuedupaslowsong.“TimeAfterTime”byCyndiLauper.Allaroundus,avatarsbegantopairup.

IgaveArt3misacourtlybowandstretchedoutmyhand.Shesmiledandtookit.Ipulledhercloseandwebegantodrifttogether.Ogsetthedancefloor’sgravityonacounterclockwisespin,makingallofouravatarsslowlyrotatearoundtheclub’sinvisiblecentralaxis,likemotesofdustfloatinginsideasnowglobe.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd185

5/24/112:05PM

186:ErnestCline

Andthen,beforeIcouldstopmyself,thewordsjustcameout.

“I’minlovewithyou,Arty.”

Shedidn’trespondatfirst.Shejustlookedatmeinshockasouravatarscontinuedtodriftinorbitaroundeachother,movingonautopilot.Thensheswitchedtoaprivatevoicechannel,sonoonecouldeavesdroponourconversation.

“Youaren’tinlovewithme,Z,”shesaid.“Youdon’tevenknowme.”

“YesIdo,”Iinsisted.“IknowyoubetterthanI’veeverknownanyoneinmyentirelife.”

“YouonlyknowwhatIwantyoutoknow.YouonlyseewhatIwantyoutosee.”Sheplacedahandonherchest.“Thisisn’tmyrealbody,Wade.Ormyrealface.”

“Idon’tcare!I’minlovewithyourmind—withthepersonyouare.Icouldn’tcarelessaboutthepackaging.”

“You’rejustsayingthat,”shesaid.Therewasanunsteadinessinhervoice.“Trustme.IfIeverletyouseemeinperson,youwouldberepulsed.”

“Whydoyoualwayssaythat?”

“BecauseI’mhideouslydeformed.OrI’maparaplegic.OrI’mactuallysixty-threeyearsold.Takeyourpick.”

“Idon’tcareifyou’reallthreeofthosethings.TellmewheretomeetyouandI’llproveit.I’llgetonaplanerightnowandflytowhereveryouare.YouknowIwill.”

Sheshookherhead.“Youdon’tliveintherealworld,Z.Fromwhatyou’vetoldme,Idon’tthinkyoueverhave.You’relikeme.Youliveinsidethisillusion.”Shemotionedtoourvirtualsurroundings.“Youcan’tpossiblyknowwhatrealloveis.”

“Don’tsaythat!”Iwasstartingtocryanddidn’tbotherhidingitfromher.“IsitbecauseItoldyouI’veneverhadarealgirlfriend?AndthatI’mavirgin?

Because—”

“Ofcoursenot,”shesaid.“Thatisn’twhatthisisabout.Atall.”

“Thenwhatisitabout?Tellme.Please.”

“TheHunt.Youknowthat.We’vebothbeenneglectingourqueststohangoutwitheachother.WeshouldbefocusedonfindingtheJadeKeyrightnow.Youcanbetthat’swhatSorrentoandtheSixersaredoing.Andeveryoneelse.”

“Tohellwithourcompetition!Andtheegg!”Ishouted.“Didn’tyouhearwhatIjustsaid?I’minlovewithyou!AndIwanttobewithyou.Morethananything.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd186

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:187

Shejuststaredatme.Orrather,heravatarstaredblanklybackatmyavatar.Thenshesaid,“I’msorry,Z.Thisisallmyfault.Iletthisgetwayoutofhand.Ithastostop.”

“Whatdoyoumean?Whathastostop?”

“Ithinkweshouldtakeabreak.Stopspendingsomuchtimetogether.”

IfeltlikeI’dbeenpunchedinthethroat.“Areyoubreakingupwithme?”

“No,Z,”shesaidfirmly.“Iamnotbreakingupwithyou.Thatwouldbeimpossible,becausewearenottogether.”Therewassuddenlyvenominhervoice.“We’veneverevenmet!”

“Sothen...you’rejustgoingto...stoptalkingtome?”

“Yes.Ithinkthatwouldbeforthebest.”

“Forhowlong?”

“UntiltheHuntisover.”

“But,Arty...Thatcouldtakeyears.”

“Irealizethat.AndI’msorry.Butthisishowithastobe.”

“Sowinningthatmoneyismoreimportanttoyouthanme?”

“It’snotaboutthemoney.It’saboutwhatIcoulddowithit.”

“Right.Savingtheworld.You’resofuckingnoble.”

“Don’tbeajerk,”shesaid.“I’vebeensearchingfortheeggforoverfiveyears.Sohaveyou.Nowwe’recloserthanevertofindingit.Ican’tjustthrowmychanceaway.”

“I’mnotaskingyouto.”

“Yes,youare.Evenifyoudon’trealizeit.”

TheCyndiLaupersongendedandOgqueuedupanotherdancetrack—

“JamesBrownIsDead”byL.A.Style.Thecluberuptedinapplause.

Ifeltlikealargewoodenstakehadbeendrivenintomychest.

Art3miswasabouttosaysomethingmore—good-bye,Ithink—whenweheardathunderousboomdirectlyupaboveus.Atfirst,IthoughtitwasOg,train-wreckingintoanewdancetrack.ButthenIlookedupandsawthelargechunksofrubbletumblingathighspeedontothedancefloorasavatarsscatteredtogetoutoftheway.Agapingholehadjustbeenblastedintheroofoftheclub,nearthetopoftheglobe.AndasmallarmyofSixerswasnowpouringthroughit,swoopingintotheclubonjetpacks,firingblasterpistolsastheycame.

Totalchaosbrokeout.Halfoftheavatarsintheclubswarmedtowardtheexit,whiletheotherhalfdrewweaponsorbegantocastspells,firinglaserbolts,bullets,andfireballsbackattheinvadingSixers.Thereweremorethanahundredofthem,allarmedtotheteeth.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd187

5/24/112:06PM

188:ErnestCline

Icouldn’tbelievetheSixers’bravado.Whywouldtheybedumbenoughtoattackaroomfullofhigh-levelgunters,ontheirownturf?Theymightkillafewofus,buttheyweregoingtolosesomeoralloftheirownavatarsintheprocess.Andforwhat?

ThenIrealizedthatmostoftheSixers’incomingfireseemedtobedirectedatmeandArt3mis.Theywereheretokillthetwoofus.

ThenewsthatArt3misandIwereheremusthavealreadyhitthenewsfeeds.AndwhenSorrentohadlearnedthatthetoptwoguntersontheScoreboardwerehangingoutinanunshieldedPvPzone,hemusthavedecidedthatitwastoojuicyatargettopassup.ThiswastheSixers’chancetotakeouttheirtwobiggestcompetitorsinoneshot.Itwasworthwastingahundredorsooftheirhighest-levelavatars.

Iknewmyownrecklessnesshadbroughtthemdownonus.Icursedmyselfforbeingsofoolish.ThenIdrewmyblastersandbegantounloadthemattheclusterofSixersnearesttomewhilealsodoingmybesttododgetheirincomingfire.IglancedoveratArt3misjustintimetoseeherincinerateadozenSixersinthespaceoffiveseconds,usingballsofblueplasmathatshehurledoutofherpalms,whileignoringthesteadystreamoflaserboltsandmagicmissilesricochetingoffhertransparentbodyshield.Iwastakingheavyfiretoo.Sofarmyownbodyshieldwasholdingup,butitwasn’tgoingtolastmuchlonger.Failurewarningswerealreadyflashingonmydisplay,andmyhit-pointcounterwasstartingtoplummet.

Inseconds,thesituationescalatedintothelargestconfrontationI’deverwitnessed.AnditalreadyseemedclearthatArt3misandIweregoingtobeonthelosingside.

Inoticedthatthemusicstillhadn’tstopped.

IglancedupattheDJboothjustintimetoseeitcrackopenastheGreatandPowerfulOgemergedfromwithin.Helookedreally,reallyannoyed.

“Youjerksthinkyoucancrashmybirthdayparty?”heshouted.Hisavatarwasstillwearingamic,sohiswordsblastedovertheclub’sspeakerarray,reverberatinglikethevoiceofGod.ThemeleeseemedtohaltforasplitsecondasalleyesturnedtolookatOg,whowasnowfloatingatthecenterofthedancefloor.HestretchedouthisarmsasheturnedtofacetheonslaughtofSixers.

AdozentinesofredlightningeruptedfromeachofOg’sfingertips,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd188

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:189

branchingoutinalldirections.EachtinestruckadifferentSixeravatarinthechestwhilesomehowarcingharmlesslyaroundeveryoneelse.

Inamillisecond,everysingleSixerintheclubwascompletelyvaporized.Theiravatarsfrozeandglowedbrightredforafewseconds,thensimplyvanished.

Iwasawestruck.ItwasthemostincredibledisplayofpowerbyanavatarI’deverseen.

“Nobodybustsintomyjointuninvited!”Ogshouted,hisvoiceechoingthroughthenow-silentclub.Theremainingavatars(theoneswhohadn’tfledtheclubinterrororbeenkilledinthebriefbattle)letoutavictoriouscheer.OgflewbackintotheDJbooth,whichcloseduparoundhimlikeatransparentcocoon.“Let’sgetthispartygoingagain,shallwe?”hesaid,droppinganeedleonatechnoremixof“Atomic”byBlondie.Ittookamomentfortheshocktowearoff,buttheneveryonestartedtodanceagain.

IlookedaroundforArt3mis,butsheseemedtohavevanished.ThenIspottedheravatarflyingoutofthenewexittheSixerattackhadcreated.

Shestoppedandhoveredoutsideamoment,justlongenoughtoglancebackatme.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd189

5/24/112:06PM

Mycomputerwokemeupjustbeforesundown,andIbeganmydailyritual.

“I’mup!”Ishoutedatthedarkness.IntheweekssinceArt3mishaddumpedme,I’dhadahardtimegettingoutofbedinthemorning.SoI’ddisabledmyalarm’ssnoozefeatureandinstructedthecomputertoblast

“WakeMeUpBeforeYouGo-Go”byWham!Iloathedthatsongwitheveryfiberofmybeing,andgettingupwastheonlywaytosilenceit.Itwasn’tthemostpleasantwaytostartmyday,butitgotmemoving.

Thesongcutoff,andmyhapticchairreshapedandreorienteditself,transformingfromabedbackintoitschairconfiguration,liftingmeintoasittingpositionasitdidso.Thecomputerbegantobringthelightsupslowly,allowingmyeyestoadjust.Nooutsidelighteverpenetratedmyapartment.ThesinglewindowhadonceprovidedaviewoftheColumbusskyline,butI’dspray-painteditcompletelyblackafewdaysafterImovedin.I’ddecidedthateverythingoutsidethewindowwasadistractionfrommyquest,soIdidn’tneedtowastetimestaringatit.Ididn’twanttoheartheoutsideworld,either,butIhadn’tbeenabletoimproveupontheapartment’sexistingsoundproofing.SoIhadtolivewiththemuffledsoundsofwindandrain,andofstreetandairtraffic.Eventhesecouldbeadistraction.Attimes,I’dslipintoakindoftrance,sittingwithmyeyesclosed,oblivioustothepassageoftime,listeningtothesoundsoftheworldoutsidemyroom.

I’dmadeseveralothermodificationstotheapartmentforthesakeofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd190

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:191

securityandconvenience.First,Ireplacedtheflimsydoorwithanewairtight

armor-platedvacuum-sealedWarDoor.WheneverIneededsomething—food,toiletpaper,newgear—Iordereditonline,andsomeonebroughtitrighttomydoor.Deliveriesworkedlikethis:First,thescannermountedoutsideinthehallwaywouldverifythedeliveryperson’sidentityandmycomputerwouldconfirmtheyweredeliveringsomethingI’dactuallyordered.Thentheouterdoorwouldunlockitselfandslideopen,revealingasteel-reinforcedairlockaboutthesizeofashowerstall.

Thedeliverypersonwouldplacetheparcel,pizza,orwhateverinsidetheairlockandstepback.Theouterdoorwouldhissshutandrelockitself;thenthepackagewouldbescanned,X-rayed,andanalyzedeightwaysfromWednesday.Itscontentswouldbeverifiedanddeliveryconfirmationwouldbesent.ThenIwouldunlockandopentheinnerdoorandreceivemygoods.Capitalismwouldinchforward,withoutmyactuallyhavingtointeractface-to-facewithanotherhumanbeing.WhichwasexactlyhowIpreferredit,thankyou.

Theroomitselfwasn’tmuchtolookat,whichwasfine,becauseIspentaslittletimelookingatitaspossible.Itwasbasicallyacube,abouttenmeterslongoneachside.Amodularshowerandtoiletunitwereembeddedinonewall,oppositethesmallergonomickitchen.I’dneveractuallyusedthekitchentocookanything.Mymealswereallfrozenordelivered.

MicrowavebrownieswereascloseasIevergottocooking.

TherestoftheroomwasdominatedbymyOASISimmersionrig.I’dinvestedeverysparecentIhadinit.Newer,faster,ormoreversatilecomponentswerealwaysbeingreleased,soIwasconstantlyspendinglargechunksofmymeagerincomeonupgrades.

Thecrownjewelinmyrigwas,ofcourse,mycustomizedOASISconsole.Thecomputerthatpoweredmyworld.I’dbuiltitmyself,piecebypiece,insideamoddedmirror-blackOdinwarespherechassis.Ithadanewoverclockedprocessorthatwassofastitscycle-timeborderedonpre-cognition.AndtheinternalharddrivehadenoughstoragespacetoholdthreedigitizedcopiesofEverythinginExistence.

IspentthemajorityofmytimeinmyShapticTechnologiesHC5000

fullyadjustablehapticchair.Itwassuspendedbytwojointedroboticarmsanchoredtomyapartment’swallsandceiling.Thesearmscouldrotatethechair

onallfouraxes,sowhenIwasstrappedintoit,theunitcouldflip,spin,orshakemybodytocreatethesensationthatIwasfalling,fly-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd191

5/24/112:06PM

192:ErnestCline

ing,orsittingbehindthewheelofanuclear-poweredrocketsledhurtlingatMach2throughacanyononthefourthmoonofAltairVI.

ThechairworkedinconjunctionwithmyShapticBootsuit,afull-bodyhapticfeedbacksuit.ItcoveredeveryinchofmybodyfromtheneckdownandhaddiscreetopeningssoIcouldrelievemyselfwithoutremovingtheentirething.Theoutsideofthesuitwascoveredwithanelaborateexoskeleton,anetworkofartificialtendonsandjointsthatcouldbothsenseandinhibitmymovements.Builtintotheinsideofthesuitwasaweblikenetworkofminiatureactuatorsthatmadecontactwithmyskineveryfewcentimeters.Thesecouldbeactivatedinsmallorlargegroupsforthepurposeoftactilesimulation—tomakemyskinfeelthingsthatweren’treallythere.Theycouldconvincinglysimulatethesensationofatapontheshoulder,akicktotheshin,oragunshotinthechest.(Built-insafetysoftwarepreventedmyrigfromactuallycausingmeanyphysicalharm,soasimulatedgunshotactuallyfeltmorelikeaweakpunch.)IhadanidenticalbackupsuithangingintheMoshWashcleaningunitinthecorneroftheroom.Thesetwohapticsuitsmadeupmyentirewardrobe.

Myoldstreetclotheswereburiedsomewhereinthecloset,collectingdust.

Onmyhands,Iworeapairofstate-of-the-artOkagamiIdleHandshapticdatagloves.Specialtactilefeedbackpadscoveredbothpalms,allowingtheglovestocreatetheillusionthatIwastouchingobjectsandsurfacesthatdidn’tactuallyexist.

Myvisorwasabrand-newpairofDinatroRLR-7800WreckSpex,featuringatop-of-the-linevirtualretinaldisplay.ThevisordrewtheOASIS

directlyontomyretinas,atthehighestframerateandresolutionpercep-tibletothehumaneye.Therealworldlookedwashed-outandblurrybycomparison.

TheRLR-7800wasanot-yet-available-to-the-plebian-massesprototype,butIhadanendorsementdealwithDinatro,sotheysentmefreegear(shippedtomethroughaseriesofremailingservices,whichIusedtomaintainmyanonymity).

MyAboundSoundaudiosystemconsistedofanarrayofultrathinspeakersmountedontheapartment’swalls,floor,andceiling,providing360degreesofperfectspatialpin-dropsoundreproduction.AndtheMjolnursubwooferwaspowerfulenoughtomakemybackteethvibrate.

TheOlfatrixsmelltowerinthecornerwascapableofgeneratingovertwothousanddiscernibleodors.Arosegarden,saltyoceanwind,burningcordite—thetowercouldconvincinglyre-createthemall.ItalsodoubledClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd192

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:193

asanindustrial-strengthairconditioner/purifier,whichwasprimarilywhatIuseditfor.Alotofjokerslikedtocodereallyhorrificsmellsintotheirsimulations,justtomesswithpeoplewhoownedsmelltowers,soIusuallylefttheodorgeneratordisabled,unlessIwasinapartoftheOASISwhereIthoughtbeingabletosmellmysurroundingsmightproveuseful.

Onthefloor,directlyunderneathmysuspendedhapticchair,wasmyOkagamiRunaroundomnidirectionaltreadmill.(“Nomatterwhereyougo,thereyouare”wasthemanufacturer’sslogan.)Thetreadmillwasabouttwometerssquareandsixcentimetersthick.Whenitwasactivated,Icouldrunattopspeedinanydirectionandneverreachtheedgeoftheplatform.IfIchangeddirection,thetreadmillwouldsenseit,anditsrollingsurfacewouldchangedirectiontomatchme,alwayskeepingmybodynearthecenterofitsplatform.Thismodelwasalsoequippedwithbuilt-inliftsandanamorphoussurface,sothatitcouldsimulatewalkingupinclinesandstaircases.

YoucouldalsopurchaseanACHD(anatomicallycorrecthapticdoll),ifyouwantedtohavemore“intimate”encountersinsidetheOASIS.

ACHDscameinmale,female,anddual-sexmodels,andwereavailablewitha

widearrayofoptions.Realisticlatexskin.Servomotor-drivenen-doskeletons.Simulatedmusculature.Andalloftheattendantappendagesandorificesonewouldimagine.

Drivenbyloneliness,curiosity,andragingteenhormones,I’dpurchasedamidrangeACHD,theShapticÜberBetty,afewweeksafterArt3misstoppedspeakingtome.Afterspendingseveralhighlyunproductivedaysinsideastand-alonebrothelsimulationcalledthePlea-suredome,I’dgottenridofthedoll,outofacombinationofshameandself-preservation.I’dwastedthousandsofcredits,missedawholeweekofwork,andwasonthevergeofcompletelyabandoningmyquestfortheeggwhenIconfrontedthegrimrealizationthatvirtualsex,nomatterhowrealistic,wasreallynothingbutglorified,computer-assistedmasturbation.

Attheendoftheday,Iwasstillavirgin,allaloneinadarkroom,hump-ingalubed-uprobot.SoIgotridoftheACHDandwentbacktospankingthemonkeytheold-fashionedway.

Ifeltnoshameaboutmasturbating.ThankstoAnorak’sAlmanac,Inowthoughtofitasanormalbodilyfunction,asnecessaryandnaturalassleepingoreating.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd193

5/24/112:06PM

194:ErnestCline

AA241:87—Iwouldarguethatmasturbationisthehumananimal’smostimportantadaptation.Theverycornerstoneofourtechnologicalcivilization.Ourhandsevolvedtogriptools,allright—includingourown.Yousee,thinkers,inventors,andscientistsareusuallygeeks,andgeekshaveahardertimegettinglaidthananyone.Withoutthebuilt-insexualreleasevalveprovidedbymasturbation,it’sdoubtfulthatearlyhumanswouldhaveevermasteredthesecretsoffireordiscoveredthewheel.AndyoucanbetthatGalileo,Newton,andEinsteinneverwouldhavemadetheirdiscoveriesiftheyhadn’tfirstbeenabletocleartheirheadsbyslappingthesalami(or“knockingafewprotonsofftheoldhydrogenatom”).ThesamegoesforMarieCurie.Beforeshediscoveredradium,youcanbecertainshefirstdiscoveredthelittlemaninthecanoe.

Itwasn’toneofHalliday’smorepopulartheories,butIlikedit.

AsIshuffledovertothetoilet,alargeflat-screenmonitormountedonthewallswitchedon,andthesmilingfaceofMax,mysystemagentsoftware,appearedonthescreen.I’dprogrammedMaxtostartupafewminutesafterIturnedonthelights,soIcouldwakeupalittlebitbeforehestartedjabberingtome.

“G-g-goodmorning,Wade!”Maxstutteredcheerily.“Riseandsh-sh-shine!”

Runningsystemagentsoftwarewasalittlelikehavingavirtualpersonalassistant—onethatalsofunctionedasavoice-activatedinterfacewithyourcomputer.Systemagentsoftwarewashighlyconfigurable,withhundredsofpreprogrammedpersonalitiestochoosefrom.I’dprogrammedminetolook,sound,andbehavelikeMaxHeadroom,the(ostensibly)computer-generatedstarofalate-’80stalkshow,agroundbreakingcyberpunkTVseries,andaslewofCokecommercials.

“Goodmorning,Max,”Irepliedgroggily.

“Ithinkyoumeangoodevening,Rumpelstiltskin.It’s7:18p.m.,OASIS

Sta-sta-standardTime,Wednesday,Decemberthirtieth.”Maxwasprogrammedtospeakwithaslightelectronicstutter.Inthemid-’80s,whenthecharacterofMaxHeadroomwascreated,computersweren’tactuallypowerfulenoughtogenerateaphotorealistichumanfigure,soMaxhadbeenportrayedbyanactor(thebrilliantMattFrewer)whoworealotofrubbermakeuptomakehimlookcomputer-generated.ButtheversionofClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd194

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:195

Maxnowsmilingatmeonthemonitorwaspuresoftware,withthebestsimulatedAIandvoice-recognitionsubroutinesmoneycouldbuy.

I’dbeenrunningahighlycustomizedversionofMaxHeadroomv3.4.1

forafewweeksnow.Beforethat,mysystemagentsoftwarehadbeenmodeledaftertheactressErinGray(ofBuckRogersandSilverSpoonsfame).

Butshe’dprovedtobewaytoodistracting,soI’dswitchedtoMax.Hewasannoyingattimes,buthealsocrackedmeup.Hedidaprettydecentjobofkeepingmefromfeelinglonesome,too.

AsIstumbledintothebathroommoduleandemptiedmybladder,Maxcontinuedtoaddressmefromasmallmonitormountedabovethemirror.“Uh-oh!Itappearsyou’vesp-sp-sprungaleak!”hesaid.

“Getanewjoke,”Isaid.“AnynewsIshouldknowabout?”

“Justtheusual.Wars,rioting,famine.Nothingthatwouldinterestyou.”

“Anymessages?”

Herolledhiseyes.“Afew.Buttoansweryourrealquestion,no.Art3misstillhasn’tcalledorwrittenyouback,loverboy.”

“I’vewarnedyou.Don’tcallmethat,Max.You’rebeggingtobedeleted.”

“Touchy,touchy.Honestly,Wade.Whendidyougetsos-s-sensitive?”

“I’lleraseyou,Max.Imeanit.KeepitupandI’llswitchbacktoWilmaDeering.OrI’lltryoutthedisembodiedvoiceofMajelBarrett.”

Maxmadeapoutyfaceandspunaroundtofacetheshiftingdigitalwallpaperbehindhim—currentlyapatternofmulticoloredvectorlines.

Maxwasalwayslikethis.Givingmegriefwaspartofhispreprogrammedpersonality.Iactuallysortofenjoyedit,becauseitremindedmeofhangingoutwithAech.AndIreallymissedhangingoutwithAech.Alot.

Mygazedroppedtothebathroommirror,butIdidn’tmuchlikewhatIsawthere,soIclosedmyeyesuntilIfinishedurinating.Iwondered(notforthefirsttime)whyIhadn’tpaintedthemirrorblacktoo,whenI’ddonethewindow.

ThehourorsoafterIwokeupwasmyleastfavoritepartofeachday,becauseIspentitintherealworld.ThiswaswhenIdealtwiththetediousbusinessof

cleaningandexercisingmyphysicalbody.Ihatedthispartofthedaybecauseeverythingaboutitcontradictedmyotherlife.Myreallife,insidetheOASIS.Thesightofmytinyone-roomapartment,myimmersionrig,ormyreflectioninthemirror—theyallservedasaharshreminderthattheworldIspentmydaysinwasnot,infact,therealone.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd195

5/24/112:06PM

196:ErnestCline

“Retractchair,”IsaidasIsteppedoutofthebathroom.Thehapticchairinstantlyflatteneditselfagain,thenretractedsothatitwasflushagainstthewall,clearingalargeemptyspaceinthecenteroftheroom.IpulledonmyvisorandloadeduptheGym,astand-alonesimulation.

NowIwasstandinginalargemodernfitnesscenterlinedwithexerciseequipmentandweightmachines,allofwhichcouldbeperfectlysimulatedbymyhapticsuit.Ibeganmydailyworkout.Sit-ups,stomachcrunches,push-ups,aerobics,weighttraining.Occasionally,Maxwouldshoutwordsofencouragement.“Getthoselegsup,yous-s-sissy!Feeltheburn!”

IusuallygotalittleexercisewhileloggedintotheOASIS,byengaginginphysicalcombatorrunningaroundthevirtuallandscapeonmytreadmill.ButIspentthevastmajorityofmytimesittinginmyhapticchair,gettingalmostnoexerciseatall.IalsohadahabitofovereatingwhenIwasdepressedorfrustrated,whichwasmostofthetime.Asaresult,I’dgraduallystartedtoputonsomeextrapounds.Iwasn’tinthebestshapetobeginwith,soIquicklyreachedapointwhereIcouldnolongerfitcomfortablyinmyhapticchairorsqueezeintomyXLhapticsuit.Soon,Iwouldneedtobuyanewrig,withcomponentsfromtheHuskyline.

IknewthatifIdidn’tgetmyweightundercontrol,IwouldprobablydieofslothbeforeIfoundtheegg.Icouldn’tletthathappen.SoImadeasnapdecisionandenabledthevoluntaryOASISfitnesslockoutsoftwareonmyrig.I’dregretteditalmostimmediately.

Fromthenon,mycomputermonitoredmyvitalsignsandkepttrackofexactlyhowmanycaloriesIburnedduringthecourseofeachday.IfIdidn’tmeetmydailyexerciserequirements,thesystempreventedmefromloggingintomyOASISaccount.ThismeantthatIcouldn’tgotowork,continuemyquest,or,ineffect,livemylife.Oncethelockoutwasengaged,youcouldn’tdisableitfortwomonths.AndthesoftwarewasboundtomyOASISaccount,soIcouldn’tjustbuyanewcomputerorgorentaboothinsomepublicOASIScafé.IfIwantedtologin,Ihadnochoicebuttoexercisefirst.ThisprovedtobetheonlymotivationIneeded.

Thelockoutsoftwarealsomonitoredmydietaryintake.EachdayIwasallowedtoselectmealsfromapresetmenuofhealthy,low-caloriefoods.

Thesoftwarewouldorderthefoodformeonlineanditwouldbedeliveredtomydoor.SinceIneverleftmyapartment,itwaseasyfortheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd196

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:197

programtokeeptrackofeverythingIate.IfIorderedadditionalfoodonmyown,itwouldincreasetheamountofexerciseIhadtodoeachday,tooffsetmyadditionalcalorieintake.Thiswassomesadisticsoftware.

Butitworked.Thepoundsbegantomeltoff,andafterafewmonths,Iwasinnear-perfecthealth.ForthefirsttimeinmylifeIhadaflatstomach,andmuscles.Ialsohadtwicetheenergy,andIgotsickalotlessfrequently.WhenthetwomonthsendedandIwasfinallygiventheoptiontodisablethefitnesslockout,Idecidedtokeepitinplace.Now,exercisingwasapartofmydailyritual.

OnceIfinishedwithmyweighttraining,Isteppedontomytreadmill.

“Beginmorningrun,”IsaidtoMax.“Bifrosttrack.”

Thevirtualgymvanished.NowIwasstandingonasemitransparentrunningtrack,acurvedloopingribbonsuspendedinastarrynebulae.

Giantringedplanetsandmulticoloredmoonsweresuspendedinspaceallaroundme.Therunningtrackstretchedoutaheadofme,rising,falling,andoccasionallyspiralingintoahelix.Aninvisiblebarrierpreventedmefromaccidentallyrunningofftheedgeofthetrackandplummetingintothestarryabyss.TheBifrosttrackwasanotherstand-alonesimulation,oneofseveralhundredtrackdesignsstoredonmyconsole’sharddrive.

AsIbegantorun,Maxfiredupmy’80smusicplaylist.Asthefirstsongbegan,Iquicklyrattledoffitstitle,artist,album,andyearofreleasefrommemory:“‘AMillionMilesAway,’thePlimsouls,EverywhereatOnce,1983.”ThenIbegantosingalong,recitingthelyrics.Havingtheright’80ssonglyricmemorizedmightsavemyavatar’slifesomeday.

WhenIfinishedmyrun,Ipulledoffmyvisorandbeganremovingmyhapticsuit.Thishadtobedoneslowlytopreventdamagingthesuit’scomponents.AsIcarefullypeeleditoff,thecontactpatchesmadetinypoppingsoundsastheypulledfreeofmyskin,leavingtinycircularmarksallovermybody.OnceIhadthesuitoff,Iplaceditinsidethecleaningunitandlaidmycleansparesuitoutonthefloor.

Maxhadalreadyturnedontheshowerforme,settingthewatertemperaturerightwhereIlikedit.AsIjumpedintothesteam-filledstall,Maxswitchedthemusicovertomyshowertunesplaylist.Irecognizedtheopeningriffsof“Change,”byJohnWaite.FromtheVisionQuestsoundtrack.GeffenRecords,1985.

Theshowerworkedalotlikeanoldcarwash.Ijuststoodtherewhileitdidmostofthework,blastingmefromallangleswithjetsofsoapyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd197

5/24/112:06PM

198:ErnestCline

water,thenrinsingmeoff.Ihadnohairtowash,becausetheshoweralsodispensedanontoxichair-removingsolutionthatIrubbedallovermyfaceandbody.Thiseliminatedtheneedformetoshaveorcutmyhair,bothhasslesIdidn’tneed.Havingsmoothskinalsohelpedmakesuremyhapticsuitfit

snugly.Ilookedalittlefreakywithoutanyeyebrows,butIgotusedtoit.

Whentherinsejetscutoff,theblow-dryerskickedon,blastingthemoistureoffofmyskininamatterofseconds.IsteppedintothekitchenandtookoutacanofSludge,ahigh-protein,vitaminD–infusedbreakfastdrink(tohelpcounteractmysunlightdeprivation).AsIgulpeditdown,mycomputer’ssensorssilentlytooknote,scanningthebarcodeandadd-ingthecaloriestomytotalfortheday.Withbreakfastoutoftheway,Ipulledonmycleanhapticsuit.Thiswaslesstrickythantakingthesuitoff,butitstilltooktimetodoproperly.

OnceIhadthesuiton,Iorderedthehapticchairtoextend.ThenIpausedandspentamomentstaringatmyimmersionrig.I’dbeensoproudofallthishigh-techhardwarewhenI’dfirstpurchasedit.Butoverthepastfewmonths,I’dcometoseemyrigforwhatitwas:anelaboratecontraptionfordeceivingmysenses,toallowmetoliveinaworldthatdidn’texist.EachcomponentofmyrigwasabarinthecellwhereIhadwillinglyimprisonedmyself.

Standingthere,underthebleakfluorescentsofmytinyone-roomapartment,therewasnoescapingthetruth.Inreallife,Iwasnothingbutanantisocialhermit.Arecluse.Apale-skinnedpopculture–obsessedgeek.Anagoraphobicshut-in,withnorealfriends,family,orgenuinehumancontact.Iwasjustanothersad,lost,lonelysoul,wastinghislifeonaglorifiedvideogame.

ButnotintheOASIS.Inthere,IwasthegreatParzival.World-famousgunterandinternationalcelebrity.Peopleaskedformyautograph.Ihadafanclub.Several,actually.IwasrecognizedeverywhereIwent(butonlywhenIwantedtobe).Iwaspaidtoendorseproducts.Peopleadmiredandlookeduptome.Igotinvitedtothemostexclusiveparties.Iwenttoallthehippestclubsandneverhadtowaitinline.Iwasapop-cultureicon,aVRrockstar.And,inguntercircles,Iwasalegend.Nay,agod.

Isatdownandpulledonmyglovesandvisor.Oncemyidentitywasverified,theGregariousSimulationSystemslogoappearedinfrontofme,followedbythelog-inprompt.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd198

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:199

Greetings,Parzival.

Pleasespeakyourpassphrase.

Iclearedmythroatandrecitedmypassphrase.EachwordappearedonmydisplayasIsaidit.“Nooneintheworldevergetswhattheywantandthatisbeautiful.”

Therewasabriefpause,andthenIletoutaninvoluntarysighofreliefastheOASISfadedintoexistenceallaroundme.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd199

5/24/112:06PM

Myavatarslowlymaterializedinfrontofthecontrolpanelinmystronghold’scommandcenter,thesamespotwhereI’dbeensittingthenightbefore,engagedinmyeveningritualofstaringblanklyattheQuatrainuntilIdriftedofftosleepandthesystemloggedmeout.I’dbeenstaringatthedamnthingforalmostsixmonthsnow,andIstillhadn’tbeenabletodecipherit.Noonehad.Everyonehadtheories,ofcourse,buttheJadeKeystillremainedunfound,andtoprankingsontheScoreboardremainedstatic.

Mycommandcenterwaslocatedunderanarmoreddomeembeddedintherockysurfaceofmyownprivateasteroid.FromhereIhadasweeping360-degreeviewofthesurroundingcrateredlandscape,stretchingtothehorizoninalldirections.Therestofmystrongholdwasbelowground,inavastsubterraneancomplexthatstretchedallthewaytotheasteroid’score.I’dcodedtheentirethingmyself,shortlyaftermovingtoColumbus.

Myavatarneededastronghold,andIdidn’twantanyneighbors,soI’dboughtthecheapestplanetoidIcouldfind—thistinybarrenasteroidinSectorFourteen.ItsdesignationwasS14A316,butI’drenameditFalco,aftertheAustrianrapstar.(Iwasn’tahugeFalcofanoranything.Ijustthoughtitsoundedlikeacool

name.)

Falcohadonlyafewsquarekilometersofsurfacearea,butithadstillcostmeaprettypenny.Ithadbeenworthit,though.Whenyouownedyourownworld,youcouldbuildwhateveryouwantedthere.AndnoonecouldvisititunlessIgrantedthemaccess,somethingInevergavetoany-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd200

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:201

one.MystrongholdwasmyhomeinsidetheOASIS.Myavatar’ssanctuary.ItwastheoneplaceintheentiresimulationwhereIwastrulysafe.

Assoonasmylog-insequencecompleted,awindowpoppeduponmydisplay,informingmethattodaywasanelectionday.NowthatIwaseighteen,Icouldvote,inboththeOASISelectionsandtheelectionsforU.S.governmentofficials.Ididn’tbotherwiththelatter,becauseIdidn’tseethepoint.Theonce-greatcountryintowhichI’dbeenbornnowresembleditsformerselfinnameonly.Itdidn’tmatterwhowasincharge.

ThosepeoplewererearrangingdeckchairsontheTitanicandeveryoneknewit.Besides,nowthateveryonecouldvotefromhome,viatheOASIS,theonlypeoplewhocouldgetelectedweremoviestars,realityTVpersonalities,orradicaltelevangelists.

IdidtakethetimetovoteintheOASISelections,however,becausetheiroutcomesactuallyaffectedme.Thevotingprocessonlytookmeafewminutes,becauseIwasalreadyfamiliarwithallofthemajorissuesGSShadputontheballot.ItwasalsotimetoelectthepresidentandVP

oftheOASISUserCouncil,butthatwasano-brainer.Likemostgunters,IvotedtoreelectCoryDoctorowandWilWheaton(again).Therewerenotermlimits,andthosetwogeezershadbeendoingakick-assjobofprotectinguserrightsforoveradecade.

WhenIfinishedvoting,Iadjustedmyhapticchairslightlyandstudiedthe

commandconsoleinfrontofme.Itwascrammedwithswitches,buttons,keyboards,joysticks,anddisplayscreens.Abankofsecuritymonitorsonmyleftwerelinkedtovirtualcamerasplacedthroughouttheinteriorandexteriorofmystronghold.Tomyright,anotherbankofmonitorsdisplayedallofmyfavoritenewsandentertainmentvidfeeds.

Amongthesewasmyownchannel:Parzival-TV—Broadcastingobscureeclecticcrap,24-7-365.

Earlierthatyear,GSShadaddedanewfeaturetoeveryOASISuser’saccount:thePOV(personalOASISvidfeed)channel.Itallowedanyonewhopaidamonthlyfeetoruntheirownstreamingtelevisionnetwork.

AnyoneloggedintothesimulationcouldtuneinandwatchyourPOV

channel,fromanywhereintheworld.Whatyouairedonyourchannelandwhoyouallowedtoviewitwereentirelyuptoyou.Mostuserschosetoruna“voyeurchannel,”whichwaslikebeingthestarofyourowntwenty-four-hourrealityshow.HoveringvirtualcameraswouldfollowyouravatararoundtheOASISasyouwentaboutyourday-to-dayac-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd201

5/24/112:06PM

202:ErnestCline

tivities.Youcouldlimitaccesstoyourchannelsothatonlyyourfriendscouldwatch,oryoucouldchargeviewersbythehourtoaccessyourPOV.

Alotofsecond-tiercelebritiesandpornographersdidthis,sellingtheirvirtuallivesataper-minutepremium.

SomepeopleusedtheirPOVtobroadcastlivevideooftheirreal-worldselves,ortheirdog,ortheirkids.Somepeopleprogrammednothingbutoldcartoons.Thepossibilitieswereendless,andthevarietyofstuffavailableseemedtogrowmoretwistedeveryday.NonstopfootfetishvideosbroadcastoutofEasternEurope.AmateurpornfeaturingdeviantsoccermomsinMinnesota.Younameit.Everyflavorofweirdnessthehumanpsychecouldcookupwasbeingfilmed

andbroadcastonline.Thevastwastelandoftelevisionprogramminghadfinallyreacheditszenith,andtheaveragepersonwasnolongerlimitedtofifteenminutesoffame.NoweveryonecouldbeonTV,everysecondofeveryday,whetherornotanyonewaswatching.

Parzival-TVwasn’tavoyeurchannel.Infact,Inevershowedmyavatar’sfaceonmyvidfeed.Instead,Iprogrammedaselectionofclassic’80sTVshows,retrocommercials,cartoons,musicvideos,andmovies.Lotsofmovies.Ontheweekends,IshowedoldJapanesemonsterflicks,alongwithsomevintageanime.Whateverstruckmyfancy.Itdidn’treallymatterwhatIprogrammed.MyavatarwasstilloneoftheHighFive,somyvidfeeddrewmillionsofviewerseveryday,regardlessofwhatIaired,andthisallowedmetosellcommercialtimetomyvarioussponsors.

MostofParzival-TV’sregularviewersweregunterswhomonitoredmyvidfeedwiththehopethatI’dinadvertentlyrevealsomekeypieceofinformationabouttheJadeKeyortheeggitself.Ineverdid,ofcourse.Atthemoment,Parzival-TVwaswrappingupanonstoptwo-dayKikaidermarathon.Kikaiderwasalate-’70sJapaneseactionshowaboutared-and-blueandroidwhobeatthecrapoutofrubber-suitedmonstersineachepisode.Ihadaweaknessforvintagekaijuandtokusatsu,showslikeSpec-treman,TheSpaceGiants,andSupaidaman.

Ipulledupmyprogramminggridandmadeafewchangestomyeveninglineup.IclearedawaytheepisodesofRiptideandMisfitsofScienceI’dprogrammedanddroppedinafewback-to-backflicksstarringGamera,myfavoritegiantflyingturtle.Ithoughttheyshouldberealcrowdpleas-ers.Then,tofinishoffthebroadcastday,IaddedafewepisodesofSilverSpoons.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd202

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:203

Art3misalsoranherownvidfeedchannel,Art3mivision,andIalwayskeptoneofmymonitorstunedtoit.Rightnow,shewasairingherusualMondayeveningfare:anepisodeofSquarePegs.AfterthatwouldbeElec-traWomanandDynaGirl,followedbyback-to-backepisodesofIsisandWonderWoman.Her

programminglineuphadn’tchangedinages.Butitdidn’tmatter.Shestillgotkillerratings.Recently,she’dalsolaunchedherownwildlysuccessfulclothinglineforfull-figuredfemaleavatars,underthelabelArt3Miss.Shewasdoingreallywellforherself.

AfterthatnightintheDistractedGlobe,Art3mishadcutoffallcontactwithme.Sheblockedallofmye-mails,phonecalls,andchatrequests.Shealsostoppedmakingpoststoherblog.

ItriedeverythingIcouldthinkoftoreachher.Isentheravatarflowers.Imademultipletripstoheravatar’sstronghold,anarmoredpalaceonBenatar,thesmallmoonsheowned.Idroppedmixtapesandnotesonherpalacefromtheair,likelovesickbombs.Once,inasupremeactofdesperation,Istoodoutsideherpalacegatesfortwosolidhours,withaboomboxovermyhead,blasting“InYourEyes”byPeterGabrielatfullvolume.

Shedidn’tcomeout.Idon’tevenknowifshewashome.

I’dbeenlivinginColumbusforoverfivemonthsnow,andithadbeeneightlong,torturousweekssinceI’dlastspokentoArt3mis.ButIhadn’tspentthattimemopingaroundandfeelingsorryformyself.Well,notallofit,anyway.I’dtriedtoenjoymy“newlife”asaworld-famoussector-hoppinggunter.EventhoughI’dmaxxedoutmyavatar’spowerlevel,Icontinuedtocompleteasmanyquestsaspossible,toaddtomyalreadyimpressivecollectionofweapons,magicitems,andvehicles,whichIkeptinavaultdeepwithinmystronghold.QuestingkeptmebusyandservedasawelcomedistractionfromthegrowinglonelinessandisolationIfelt.

I’dtriedtoreconnectwithAechafterArt3mishaddumpedme,butthingsweren’tthesame.We’dgrownapart,andIknewitwasmyfault.

Ourconversationswerenowstiltedandreserved,asifwewerebothafraidofrevealingsomekeypieceofinformationtheothermightbeabletouse.

Icouldtellhenolongertrustedme.AndwhileI’dbeenoffobsessingoverArt3mis,itseemedAechhadbecomeobsessedwithbeingthefirstguntertofindtheJadeKey.Butithadbeenalmosthalfayearsincewe’dclearedtheFirstGate,andtheJadeKey’slocationstillremainedamystery.

Ihadn’tspokentoAechinalmostamonth.Mylastconversationwithhimhad

devolvedintoashoutingmatch,whichhadendedwhenIre-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd203

5/24/112:06PM

204:ErnestCline

mindedAechthathe“neverevenwouldhavefoundtheCopperKey”ifIhadn’tledhimstraighttoit.He’dglaredatmeinsilenceforasecond,thenloggedoutofthechatroom.Stubbornpridekeptmefromcallinghimbackrightawaytoapologize,andnowitseemedliketoomuchtimehadpassed.

Yeah.Iwasonaroll.Inlessthansixmonths,I’dmanagedtowreckbothofmyclosestfriendships.

IflippedovertoAech’schannel,whichhecalledtheH-Feed.HewascurrentlyshowingaWWFmatchfromthelate’80s,featuringHulkHoganandAndretheGiant.Ididn’tevenbothercheckingDaitoandShoto’schannel,theDaishow,becauseIknewthey’dbeshowingsomeoldsamuraimovie.That’sallthoseguyseveraired.

AfewmonthsafterourconfrontationalfirstmeetinginAech’sbasement,I’dmanagedtoformatenuousfriendshipwithDaitoandShotowhenthethreeofusteameduptocompleteanextendedquestinSectorTwenty-two.Itwasmyidea.Ifeltbadabouthowourfirstencounterhadended,andIwaitedforanopportunitytoextendsomesortofolivebranchtothetwosamurai.ItcamewhenIdiscoveredahiddenhigh-levelquestcalledShodaiUrutoramanontheplanetTokusatsu.Thecreationdateinthequest’scolophonsaidithadbeenlaunchedseveralyearsafterHalliday’sdeath,whichmeantitcouldn’thaveanyrelationtothecontest.

ItwasalsoaJapanese-languagequest,createdbyGSS’sHokkaidodivision.Icouldhavetriedtocompleteitonmyown,usingtheMandaraxreal-timetranslatorsoftwareinstalledinallOASISaccounts,butitwouldhavebeenrisky.Mandaraxhadbeenknowntogarbleormisinterpretquestinstructionsandcues,whichcouldeasilyleadtofatalmistakes.

DaitoandShotolivedinJapan(they’dbecomenationalheroesthere),andI

knewthattheybothspokeJapaneseandEnglishfluently.SoI’dcontactedthemtoaskiftheywereinterestedinteamingupwithme,justforthisonequest.Theywereskepticalatfirst,butafterIdescribedtheuniquenatureofthequest,andwhatIbelievedthepayoffforsolvingitmightbe,theyfinallyagreed.ThethreeofusmetoutsidethequestgateonTokusatsuandenteredittogether.

Thequestwasare-creationofallthirty-nineepisodesoftheoriginalUltramanTVseries,whichhadairedonJapanesetelevisionfrom1966to1967.Theshow’sstorylinecenteredaroundahumannamedHayatawhowasamemberoftheSciencePatrol,anorganizationdevotedtofightingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd204

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:205

thehordesofgiantGodzilla-likemonstersthatwereconstantlyattackingEarthandthreateninghumancivilization.WhentheSciencePatrolencounteredathreattheycouldn’thandleontheirown,HayatawoulduseanaliendevicecalledaBetaCapsuletotransformintoanaliensuper-beingknownasUltraman.Thenhewouldproceedtokickthemonster-of-the-week’sass,usingallsortsofkung-fumovesandenergyattacks.

IfI’denteredthequestgatebymyself,IwouldhaveautomaticallyplayedthroughtheentireseriesstorylineasHayata.ButbecauseShoto,Daito,andIhadallenteredatonce,wewereeachallowedtoselectadifferentSciencePatrolteammembertoplay.Wecouldthenchangeorswapcharactersatthestartofthenextlevelor“episode.”ThethreeofustookturnsplayingHayataandhisSciencePatrolteammatesHoshinoandArashi.AswithmostquestsintheOASIS,playingasateammadeiteasiertodefeatthevariousenemiesandcompleteeachofthelevels.

Ittookusanentireweek,oftenplayingoversixteenhoursaday,beforewewerefinallyabletoclearallthirty-ninelevelsandcompletethequest.

Aswesteppedoutofthequestgate,ouravatarswereeachawardedahugeamountofexperiencepointsandseveralthousandcredits.Buttherealprizeforcompletingthequestwasanincrediblyrareartifact:Hayata’sBetaCapsule.The

smallmetalcylinderallowedtheavatarwhopossessedittotransformintoUltramanonceaday,foruptothreeminutes.

Sincetherewerethreeofus,therewasadebateoverwhoshouldbeallowedtokeeptheartifact.“Parzivalshouldhaveit,”Shotohadsaid,turningtohisolderbrother.“Hefoundthisquest.Wewouldn’tevenhaveknownaboutit,wereitnotforhim.”

Ofcourse,Daitohaddisagreed.“Andhewouldnothavebeenabletocompletethequestwithoutourhelp!”HesaidtheonlyfairthingtodowouldbetoauctionofftheBetaCapsuleandsplittheproceeds.ButtherewasnowayIcouldallowthat.Theartifactwasfartoovaluabletosell,andIknewitwouldendupinthehandsoftheSixers,becausetheypurchasednearlyeverymajorartifactthatwentupforauction.IalsosawthisasanopportunitytogetonDaisho’sgoodside.

“YoutwoshouldkeeptheBetaCapsule,”Isaid.“UrutoramanisJapan’sgreatestsuperhero.HispowersbelonginJapanesehands.”

Theywerebothsurprisedandhumbledbymygenerosity.EspeciallyDaito.“Thankyou,Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.“Youareamanofhonor.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd205

5/24/112:06PM

206:ErnestCline

Afterthat,thethreeofushadpartedasfriends,ifnotnecessarilyallies,andIconsideredthatanamplerewardformyefforts.

AchimesoundedinmyearsandIcheckedthetime.Itwasalmosteighto’clock.Timetomakethedoughnuts.

Iwasalwayshard-upforcash,nomatterhowfrugalItriedtobe.Ihadseverallargebillstopayeachmonth,bothintherealworldandintheOASIS.Myreal-worldexpenseswereprettystandard.Rent,electricity,food,water.Hardware

repairsandupgrades.Myavatar’sexpenseswerefarmoreexotic.Spacecraftrepairs.Teleportationfees.Powercells.Am-munition.Ipurchasedmyammoinbulk,butitstillwasn’tcheap.Andmymonthlyteleportationexpenseswereoftenastronomical.Mysearchfortheeggrequiredconstanttravel,andGSSkeptraisingtheirteleportationfares.

I’dalreadyspentallofmyremainingproductendorsementdough.

Mostofitwenttowardthecostofmyrigandbuyingmyownasteroid.IearnedadecentamountofmoneyeachmonthbysellingcommercialtimeonmyPOVchannelandbyauctioningoffanyunneededmagicitems,armor,orweaponsIacquiredduringmytravels.Butmyprimarysourceofincomewasmyfull-timejobdoingOASIStechnicalsupport.

WhenI’dcreatedmynewBryceLynchidentity,I’dgivenmyselfacollegedegree,alongwithmultipletechnicalcertificationsandalong,sterlingworkrecordasanOASISprogrammerandappdeveloper.However,despitemysterlingbogusrésumé,theonlyjobI’dbeenabletogetwasasatier-onetechnicalsupportrepresentativeatHelpfulHelpdeskInc.,oneofthecontractfirmsGSSusedtohandleOASIScustomerserviceandsupport.NowIworkedfortyhoursaweek,helpingmoronsreboottheirOASISconsolesandupdatethedriversfortheirhapticgloves.Itwasgruelingwork,butitpaidtherent.

IloggedoutofmyownOASISaccountandthenusedmyrigtologintoaseparateOASISaccountI’dbeenissuedforwork.Thelog-inprocesscompletedandItookcontrolofaHappyHelpdeskavatar,acookie-cutterKendollthatIusedtotaketech-supportcalls.Thisavatarappearedinsideahugevirtualcallcenter,insideavirtualcubicle,sittingatavirtualdesk,infrontofavirtualcomputer,wearingavirtualphoneheadset.

Ithoughtofthisplaceasmyownprivatevirtualhell.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd206

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:207

HelpfulHelpdeskInc.tookmillionsofcallsaday,fromallovertheworld.Twenty-fourseven,threesixty-five.Oneangry,befuddledcretinafteranother.Therewasnodowntimebetweencalls,becausetherewerealwaysseveralhundredmoronsinthecallqueue,allofthemwillingtowaitonholdforhourstohaveatechrepholdtheirhandandfixtheirproblem.Whybotherlookingupthesolutiononline?Whytrytofiguretheproblemoutonyourownwhenyoucouldhavesomeoneelsedoyourthinkingforyou?

Asusual,myten-hourshiftpassedslowly.Itwasimpossibleforhelp-deskavatarstoleavetheircubicles,butIfoundotherwaystopassthetime.MyworkaccountwasriggedsothatIcouldn’tbrowseoutsidewebsites,butI’dhackedmyvisortoallowmetolistentomusicorstreammoviesoffmyharddrivewhileItookcalls.

WhenmyshiftfinallyendedandIloggedoutofwork,IimmediatelyloggedbackintomyownOASISaccount.Ihadthousandsofnewe-mailmessageswaiting,andIcouldtelljustbytheirsubjectlineswhathadhappenedwhileI’dbeenatwork.

Art3mishadfoundtheJadeKey.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd207

5/24/112:06PM

Likeotherguntersaroundtheglobe,I’dbeendreadingthenextchangeontheScoreboard,becauseIknewitwasgoingtogivetheSixersanunfairadvantage.

Afewmonthsafterwe’dallclearedtheFirstGate,ananonymousavatarhadplacedanultrapowerfulartifactupforauction.ItwascalledFyndoro’sTabletofFinding,andithaduniquepowersthatcouldgiveitsownerahugeadvantageinthehuntforHalliday’sEasteregg.

MostofthevirtualitemsintheOASISwerecreatedbythesystematrandom,andtheywould“drop”whenyoukilledanNPCorcompletedaquest.Therarestsuchitemswereartifacts,superpowerfulmagicitemsthatgavetheirowners

incredibleabilities.Onlyafewhundredoftheseartifactsexisted,andmostofthemdatedbacktotheearliestdaysoftheOASIS,whenitwasstillprimarilyanMMOgame.Everyartifactwasunique,meaningthatonlyonecopyofitexistedintheentiresimulation.

Usually,thewaytoobtainanartifactwastodefeatsomegodlikevillainattheendofahigh-levelquest.Ifyougotlucky,thebadguywoulddropanartifactwhenyoukilledhim.Youcouldalsoobtainanartifactbykillinganavatarwhohadoneinitsinventory,orbypurchasingoneinanonlineauction.

Sinceartifactsweresorare,itwasalwaysbignewswhenonewentupforauction.Somehadbeenknowntosellforhundredsofthousandsofcredits,dependingontheirpowers.TherecordhadbeensetthreeyearsagowhenanartifactcalledtheCataclystwasauctionedoff.AccordingtoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd208

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:209

itsauctionlisting,theCataclystwasasortofmagicalbomb,anditcouldbeusedonlyonce.Whenitwasdetonated,itwouldkilleverysingleavatarandNPCinthesector,includingitsowner.Therewasnodefenseagainstit.Ifyouwereunluckyenoughtobeinthesamesectorwhenitwentoff,youwereagoner,regardlessofhowpowerfulorwellprotectedyouwere.

TheCataclysthadsoldtoananonymousbidderforjustoveramillioncredits.Theartifactstillhadn’tbeendetonated,soitsnewownerstillhaditsittingaroundsomewhere,waitingfortherighttimetouseit.Itwassomethingofarunningjokenow.Whenagunterwassurroundedbyavatarsshedidn’tlike,shewouldclaimtohavetheCataclystinherinventoryandthreatentodetonateit.ButmostpeoplesuspectedthattheitemhadactuallyfallenintotheSixers’hands,alongwithcountlessotherpowerfulartifacts.

Fyndoro’sTabletofFindingwoundupsellingforevenmorethantheCataclyst.Accordingtotheauctiondescription,thetabletwasaflatcircleofpolishedblackstone,andithadoneverysimplepower.Onceaday,itsownercouldwriteanyavatar’snameonitssurface,andthetabletwoulddisplaythatavatar’s

locationatthatexactmoment.However,thispowerhadrangelimitations.IfyouwereinadifferentOASISsectorthantheavataryouweretryingtofind,thetabletwouldtellyouonlywhichsectoryourtargetwascurrentlyin.Ifyouwerealreadyinthesamesector,thetabletwouldtellyouwhatplanetyourtargetwascurrentlyon(orclosestto,iftheywereoutinspace).Ifyouwerealreadyonthesameplanetasyourtargetwhenyouusedthetablet,itwouldshowyoutheirexactcoordinatesonamap.

Astheartifact’ssellermadesuretopointoutinhisauctionlisting,ifyouusedthetablet’spowerinconjunctionwiththeScoreboard,itargu-ablybecamethemostvaluableartifactintheentireOASIS.AllyouhadtodowaswatchthetoprankingsontheScoreboardandwaituntilsomeone’sscoreincreased.Thesecondthathappened,youcouldwritethatavatar’snameonthetabletanditwouldtellyouwheretheywereatthatexactmoment,thusrevealingthelocationofthekeythey’djustfound,orthegatethey’djustexited.Duetotheartifact’srangelimitations,itmighttaketwoorthreeattemptstonarrowdowntheexactlocationofakeyoragate,butevenso,thatwasstillinformationalotofpeoplewouldbewillingtokillfor.

WhenFyndoro’sTabletofFindingwentupforauction,ahugebiddingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd209

5/24/112:06PM

210:ErnestCline

warbrokeoutbetweenseveralofthelargegunterclans.Butwhentheauctionfinallyended,thetabletwoundupsellingtotheSixersforalmosttwomillioncredits.SorrentohimselfusedhisownIOIaccounttobidonthetablet.Hewaiteduntilthelastfewsecondsoftheauctionandthenoutbideveryone.Hecouldhavebidanonymously,butheobviouslywantedtheworldtoknowwhonowpossessedtheartifact.ItwasalsohiswayoflettingthoseofusintheHighFiveknowthatfromthatmomentforward,wheneveroneofusfoundakeyorclearedagate,theSixerswouldbetrackingus.Andtherewasnothingwecoulddoaboutit.

Atfirst,IwasworriedtheSixerswouldalsotrytousethetablettohuntdowneachofouravatarsandkillusoneatatime.Butlocatingouravatarswouldn’t

dothemanygoodunlesswehappenedtobeinaPvPzoneatthetimeandwerestupidenoughtostayputuntiltheSixerscouldreachus.Andsincethetabletcouldbeusedonlyonceaday,theywouldalsoruntheriskofmissingtheirwindowofopportunityiftheScoreboardchangedonthesamedaytheytriedtousethetablettolocateoneofus.

Theydidn’ttakethechance.Theykepttheartifactinreserveandwaitedfortheirmoment.

LessthanahalfhourafterArt3mis’sscoreincrease,theentireSixerfleetwasspottedconvergingonSectorSeven.ThemomenttheScoreboardchanged,theSixershadobviouslyusedFyndoro’sTabletofFindingtotrytoascertainArt3mis’sexactlocation.Luckily,theSixeravatarusingthetablet(probablySorrentohimself)happenedtobeinadifferentsectorfromArt3mis,sothetabletdidn’trevealwhatplanetshewason.ItonlytoldtheSixerswhichsectorshewascurrentlyin.AndsotheentireSixerfleethadimmediatelyhightailedittoSectorSeven.

Thankstotheircompletelackofsubtlety,thewholeworldnowknewtheJadeKeymustbehiddensomewhereinthatsector.Naturally,thousandsofguntersbegantoconvergeonittoo.TheSixershadnarrowedthesearchareaforeveryone.Luckily,SectorSevencontainedhundredsofplanets,moons,andotherworlds,andtheJadeKeycouldhavebeenhiddenonanyoneofthem.

Ispenttherestofthedayinshock,reelingatthenewsthatI’dbeendethroned.Thatwasexactlyhowthenewsfeedheadlinesputit:parzivaldethroned!art3misnew#1gunter!sixersclosingin!

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd210

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:211

OnceIfinallygotagrip,IpulleduptheScoreboardandmademyselfstareatitforthirtysolidminuteswhileImentallyberatedmyself.

HIGHSCORES:

1.Art3mis

129,000

2.Parzival

110,000

3.Aech

108,000

4.Daito

107,000

5.Shoto

106,000

6.IOI-655321

105,000

7.IOI-643187

105,000

8.IOI-621671

105,000

9.IOI-678324

105,000

10.IOI-637330

105,000

You’vegotnoonebutyourselftoblame,Itoldmyself.Youletsuccessgotoyourhead.Youslackedoffonyourresearch.What,didyouthinklightningwouldstriketwice?Thateventuallyyou’djuststumbleacrosstheclueyouneededtofindtheJadeKey?Sittinginfirstplaceallthattimegaveyouafalsesenseofsecurity.Butyoudon’thavethatproblemnow,doyou,asshead?No,becauseinsteadofbucklingdownandfocusingonyourquestlikeyoushouldhave,youpissedawayyourlead.Youwastedalmosthalfayearscrewingaroundandpiningoversomegirlyou’veneverevenmetinperson.Thegirlwhodumpedyou.Thesamegirlwhoisgoingtoendupbeatingyou.

Now...getyourheadbackinthegame,moron.Findthatkey.

Suddenly,Iwantedtowinthecontestmorethanever.Notjustforthemoney.IwantedtoprovemyselftoArt3mis.AndIwantedtheHunttobeover,sothatshewouldtalktomeagain.SothatIcouldfinallymeetherinperson,seehertrueface,andtrytomakesenseofhowIfeltabouther.

IclearedtheScoreboardoffmydisplayandopenedupmygraildiary,whichhadnowgrownintoavastmountainofdatacontainingeveryscrapofinformationI’dcollectedsincethecontestbegan.Itappearedasajumbleofcascadingwindowsfloatinginfrontofme,displayingtext,maps,photos,andaudioandvideofiles,allindexed,cross-referenced,andpulsingwithlife.

IkepttheQuatrainopeninawindowthatwasalwaysontop.FourClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd211

5/24/112:06PM

212:ErnestCline

linesoftext.Twenty-fourwords.Thirty-foursyllables.I’dstaredatthemsooftenandforsolongthatthey’dnearlylostallmeaning.Lookingatthemagainnow,Ihadtoresisttheurgetoscreaminrageandfrustration.

Iknewtheanswerwasrightthereinfrontofme.Art3mishadalreadyfigureditout.

IreadovermynotesaboutJohnDraper,akaCaptainCrunch,andthetoyplasticwhistlethathadmadehimfamousintheannalsofhackerlore.

Istillbelievedthatthesewerethe“captain”and“whistle”Hallidaywasreferringto.ButtherestoftheQuatrain’smeaningremainedamystery.

ButnowIpossessedanewpieceofinformation—thekeywassomewhereinSectorSeven.SoIpulledupmyOASISatlasandbegantosearchforplanetswithnamesIthoughtmightsomehowberelatedtotheQuatrain.Ifoundafewworldsnamedafterfamoushackers,likeWozandMitnick,butnonenamedafterJohnDraper.SectorSevenalsocontainedhundredsofworldsnamedafteroldUsenetnewsgroups,andononeofthese,theplanetalt.phreaking,therewasastatueofDraperposingwithanancientrotaryphoneinonehandandaCap’nCrunchwhistleintheother.ButthestatuehadbeenerectedthreeyearsafterHalliday’sdeath,soIknewitwasadeadend.

IreadthroughtheQuatrainyetagain,andthistimethelasttwolinesjumpedoutatme:

Trophies.SomewhereinSectorSeven.IneededtofindacollectionoftrophiesinSectorSeven.

IdidaquicksearchofmyfilesonHalliday.FromwhatIcouldtell,theonlytrophieshe’deverownedwerethefiveGameDesigneroftheYearawardshe’dwonbackaroundtheturnofthecentury.Thesetrophieswerestillondisplayin

theGSSMuseuminColumbus,buttherewerereplicasofthemondisplayinsidetheOASIS,onaplanetcalledArchaide.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd212

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:213

AndArchaidewaslocatedinSectorSeven.

Theconnectionseemedthin,butIstillwantedtocheckitout.Attheveryleast,itwouldmakemefeellikeIwasdoingsomethingproductiveforthenextfewhours.

IglancedoveratMax,whowascurrentlydoingthesambaononeofmycommandcenter’smonitors.“Max,preptheVonnegutfortakeoff.Ifyou’renottoobusy.”

Maxstoppeddancingandsmirkedatme.“Yougotit,ElComanchero!”

Igotupandwalkedovertomystronghold’selevator,whichI’dmodeledaftertheturboliftontheoriginalStarTrekseries.Irodedownfourlevelstomyarmory,amassivevaultfilledwithstorageshelves,displaycases,andweaponracks.Ipulledupmyavatar’sinventorydisplay,whichappearedasaclassic“paperdoll”diagramofmyavatar,ontowhichIcoulddraganddropvariousitemsandpiecesofequipment.

ArchaidewaslocatedinaPvPzone,soIdecidedtoupgrademygearandwearmySundaybest.Iputonmygleaming+10HaleMailpoweredarmor,thenstrappedonmyfavoritesetofblasterpistolsandslungapump-actionpistol-gripshotgunacrossmyback,alongwitha+5VorpalBastardSword.Ialsograbbedafewotheressentialitems.Anextrapairofantigravboots.ARingofMagicResistance.AnAmuletofProtection.

SomeGauntletsofGiantStrength.Ihatedtheideaofneedingsomethingandnothavingitwithme,soIusuallyendedupcarryingenoughequipmentforthreegunters.WhenIranoutofroomonmyavatar’sbody,Istoredtheadditionalgear

inmyBackpackofHolding.

OnceIwasproperlyoutfitted,Ihoppedbackontheelevator,andafewsecondslaterIarrivedattheentranceofmyhangar,locatedonthebottomlevelofmystronghold.Pulsingbluelightslinedtherunway,whichranupthecenterofthehangartoamassivepairofarmoreddoorsatthefarend.Thesedoorsopenedintothelaunchtunnel,whichleduptoamatchingsetofarmoreddoorssetintotheasteroid’ssurface.

Standingontheleftsideoftherunwaywasmybattle-wornX-wingfighter.ParkedontherightsidewasmyDeLorean.Sittingontherunwayitselfwasmymostfrequentlyusedspacecraft,theVonnegut.Maxhadalreadypowereduptheengines,andtheyemittedalow,steadyroarthatfilledthehangar.TheVonnegutwasaheavilymodifiedFirefly-classtransportvessel,modeledaftertheSerenityintheclassicFireflyTVseries.TheshiphadbeennamedtheKayleewhenI’dfirstobtainedit,butI’dimmediatelyrechristeneditafteroneofmyfavoritetwentieth-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd213

5/24/112:06PM

214:ErnestCline

centurynovelists.Itsnewnamewasstenciledonthesideofitsbatteredgrayhull.

I’dlootedtheVonnegutfromacadreofOviraptorclansmenwhohadfoolishlyattemptedtohijackmyX-wingwhileIwascruisingthroughalargegroupofworldsinSectorElevenknownastheWhedonverse.TheOviraptorswerecockybastardswithnocluewhoitwastheyweremessingwith.Iwasinafoulmoodevenbeforethey’dopenedfireonme.Otherwise,Iprobablywouldhavejustevadedthembyjumpingtolightspeed.

ButthatdayIdecidedtotaketheirattackpersonally.

ShipswerelikemostotheritemsintheOASIS.Eachonehadspecificattributes,weapons,andspeedcapabilities.MyX-wingwasfarmorema-neuverablethantheOviraptors’largetransportship,soitwasnotroubleformetoavoidthebarragefromtheiraftermarketguns,whileIbombardedthemwithlaserbolts

andprotontorpedoes.AfterIdisabledtheirengines,Iboardedtheshipandproceededtokilleveryavatarthere.ThecaptaintriedtoapologizewhenhesawwhoIwas,butIwasn’tinaforgiv-ingmood.AfterI’ddispatchedthecrew,IparkedmyX-winginthecargoholdandthencruisedhomeinmynewship.

AsIapproachedtheVonnegut,theloadingrampextendedtothehangarfloor.BythetimeIreachedthecockpit,theshipwasalreadyliftingoff.IheardthelandinggearretractwithathudjustasIseatedmyselfatthecontrols.

“Max,lockupthehouse,andsetacourseforArchaide.”

“Aye,C-c-captain,”Maxstutteredfromoneofthecockpitmonitors.

Thehangardoorsslidopen,andtheVonnegutrocketedoutthelaunchtunnelandupintothestarrysky.Astheshipclearedthesurface,thearmoredtunneldoorsslammedclosedbehindit.

IspottedseveralshipscampedoutinahighorbitaboveFalco.Theusualsuspects:crazedfans,wannabedisciples,andaspiringbountyhunters.Afewofthem,theonescurrentlyturningtofollowme,weretagalongs—peoplewhospentmostoftheirtimetryingtotailprominentguntersandgatherintelontheirmovementssotheycouldselltheinformationlater.Iwasalwaysabletolosetheseidiotsbyjumpingtolightspeed.Aluckythingforthem.IfIcouldn’tlosesomeonewhowastryingtotailme,Iusuallyhadnochoicebuttostopandkillthem.

AstheVonnegutmadethejumptolightspeed,eachoftheplanetsonmyviewscreenbecamealongstreakoflight.“Li-li-lightspeedengaged,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd214

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:215

Captain,”Maxreported.“ETAtoArchaideisestimatedatfifty-threeminutes.Fifteenifyouwanttousetheneareststargate.”

Stargateswerestrategicallylocatedthroughouteachsector.Theywerereallyjust

giantspaceship-sizedteleporters,butsincetheychargedbythemassofyourshipandthedistanceyouwantedtotravel,theywerenormallyusedonlybycorporationsorextremelywealthyavatarswithcreditstoburn.Iwasneither,butunderthecircumstances,Iwaswillingtosplurgealittle.

“Let’stakethestargate,Max.We’reinkindofahurry.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd215

5/24/112:06PM

TheVonnegutdroppedoutoflightspeed,andArchaidesuddenlyfilledthecockpitviewscreen.Itstoodoutfromtheotherplanetsintheareabecauseitwasn’tcodedtolookreal.Alloftheneighboringplanetswereperfectlyrendered,withclouds,continents,orimpactcraterscoveringtheircurvedsurfaces.ButArchaidehadnoneofthesefeatures,becauseitwashometotheOASIS’slargestclassicvideogamemuseum,anditsappearancehadbeendesignedasatributetothevector-graphicgamesofthelate’70sandearly’80s.Theplanet’sonlysurfacefeaturewasawebofglowinggreendotssimilartothegroundlightsonanairportrunway.Theywerespacedevenlyacrosstheglobeinaperfectgrid,sothat,fromorbit,Archaideresembledthevector-graphicDeathStarfromAtari’s1983StarWarsarcadegame.

AsMaxpilotedtheVonnegutdowntothesurface,Ipreparedforthepossibilityofcombatbychargingupmyarmorandbuffingmyavatarwithseveralpotionsandnanopacks.ArchaidewasbothaPvPzoneandachaoszone,whichmeantthatbothmagicandtechnologyfunctionedhere.SoImadesuretoloadupallofmycombatcontingencymacros.

TheVonnegut’sperfectlyrenderedsteelloadingramploweredtotheground,standingoutinsharpcontrastagainstthedigitalblacknessofArchaide’ssurface.AsIsteppedofftheramp,Itappedakeypadonmyrightwrist.Therampretracted,andtherewasasharphumastheship’ssecuritysystemactivated.AtransparentblueshieldappearedaroundtheVonnegut’shull.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd216

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:217

Igazedaroundatthehorizon,whichwasjustajaggedgreenvectorline,denotingmountainousterrain.Hereonthesurface,Archaidelookedexactlyliketheenvironmentofthe1981gameBattlezone,anothervector-graphicclassicfromAtari.Inthedistance,atriangularvolcanospewedgreenpixelsoflava.Youcouldruntowardthatvolcanofordaysandneverreachit.Italwaysremainedatthehorizon.Justlikeinanoldvideogame,thesceneryneverchangedonArchaide,evenifyoucircumnavigatedtheglobe.

Followingmyinstructions,MaxhadsettheVonnegutdowninalandinglotneartheequatorintheeasternhemisphere.Thelotwasempty,andthesurroundingareaappeareddeserted.Iheadedtowardthenearestgreendot.AsIapproached,Icouldseethatitwasactuallythemouthofanentrancetunnel,aneongreencircletenmetersindiameterleadingbelowground.Archaidewasahollowplanet,andthemuseumexhibitswerealllocatedbeneaththesurface.

AsIapproachedthenearesttunnelentrance,Iheardloudmusicema-natingfrombelow.Irecognizedthesongas“PourSomeSugaronMe”byDefLeppard,offtheirHysteriaalbum(EpicRecords,1987).Ireachedtheedgeoftheglowinggreenringandjumpedin.Asmyavatarplummeteddownintothemuseum,thegreenvector-graphicthemedisappearedandIfoundmyselfinhigh-resolutionfull-colorsurroundings.Everythingaroundmelookedcompletelyrealonceagain.

Belowitssurface,Archaidehousedthousandsofclassicvideoarcades,eachonealovingre-creationofanactualarcadethathadonceexistedsomewhereintherealworld.SincethedawnoftheOASIS,thousandsofelderlyusershadcomehereandpainstakinglycodedvirtualreplicasoflocalarcadestheyrememberedfromtheirchildhood,thusmakingthemapermanentpartofthemuseum.Andeachofthesesimulatedgamerooms,bowlingalleys,andpizzajointswaslinedwithclassicarcadegames.Therewasatleastonecopyofeverycoin-operatedvideogameevermadedownhere.TheoriginalgameROMswereallstoredintheplanet’sOASIScode,andtheirwoodengamecabinetswereeachcodedtolookliketheantiqueoriginals.Hundredsofshrinesandexhibitsdevotedto

variousgamedesignersandpublisherswerealsoscatteredthroughoutthemuseum.

Themuseum’svariouslevelswerecomprisedofvastcavernslinkedbyanetworkofsubterraneanstreets,tunnels,staircases,elevators,escala-tors,ladders,slides,trapdoors,andsecretpassageways.Itwaslikeamas-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd217

5/24/112:06PM

218:ErnestCline

siveundergroundmultilevellabyrinth.Thelayoutmadeitextremelyeasytogetlost,soIkeptathree-dimensionalholographicmaponmydisplay.

Myavatar’spresentlocationwasindicatedbyaflashingbluedot.I’denteredthemuseumnexttoanoldarcadecalledAladdin’sCastle,closetothesurface.Itouchedapointonthemapnearthecoreoftheplanet,indicatingmydestination,andthesoftwaremappedthequickestrouteformetogetthere.Iranforward,followingit.

Themuseumwasdividedintolayers.Here,neartheplanet’smantle,youcouldfindthelastcoin-operatedvideogamesevermade,fromthefirstfewdecadesofthetwenty-firstcentury.Theseweremostlydedicatedsimulatorcabinetswithfirst-generationhaptics—vibratingchairsandtiltinghydraulicplatforms.Lotsofnetworkedstockcarsimulatorsthatallowedpeopletoraceeachother.Thesegameswerethelastoftheirkind.Bythatera,homevideogameconsoleshadalreadymademostcoin-opgamesob-solete.AftertheOASISwentonline,theystoppedmakingthemaltogether.

Asyouventureddeeperintothemuseum,thegamesgrewolderandmorearchaic.Turn-of-the-centurycoin-ops.Lotsofhead-to-headfightinggameswithblockypolygon-renderedfiguresbeatingthecrapoutofeachotheronlargeflat-screenmonitors.Shootinggamesplayedwithcrudehapticlightguns.Dancinggames.Onceyoureachedthelevelbelowthat,thegamesallbegantolookidentical.Eachwashousedinalargerectangularwoodenboxcontainingacathodepicturetubewithasetofcrudegamecontrolsmountedinfrontofit.Youusedyourhandsandyoureyes(andoccasionallyyourfeet)toplaythese

games.Therewerenohaptics.Thesegamesdidn’tmakeyoufeelanything.AndthedeeperIdescended,thecruderthegamegraphicsgot.

Themuseum’sbottomlevel,locatedintheplanetcore,wasasphericalroomcontainingashrinetotheveryfirstvideogame,TennisforTwo,inventedbyWilliamHiginbothamin1958.Thegameranonanancientanalogcomputerandwasplayedonatinyoscilloscopescreenaboutfiveinchesindiameter.NexttoitwasareplicaofanancientPDP-1computerrunningacopyofSpacewar!,thesecondvideogameevermade,createdbyabunchofstudentsatMITin1962.

Likemostgunters,I’dalreadyvisitedArchaideafewtimes.I’dbeentothecoreandhadplayedbothTennisforTwoandSpacewar!untilI’dmasteredthem.ThenI’dwanderedaroundthemuseums’manylevels,playinggamesandlookingforcluesHallidaymighthaveleftbehind.ButI’dneverfoundanything.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd218

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:219

Ikeptrunning,fartherandfartherdown,untilIreachedtheGregariousSimulationSystemsMuseum,whichwaslocatedjustafewlevelsabovetheplanetcore.I’dbeenhereoncebeforetoo,soIknewmywayaround.TherewereexhibitsdevotedtoallofGSS’smostpopulargames,includingseveralarcadeportsoftitlesthey’doriginallyreleasedforhomecomputersandconsoles.Itdidn’ttakemelongtofindtheexhibitwhereHalliday’sfiveGameDesigneroftheYeartrophiesweredisplayed,nexttoabronzestatueofthemanhimself.

Withinafewminutes,IknewIwaswastingmytimehere.TheGSS

Museumexhibitwascodedsothatitwasimpossibletoremoveanyoftheitemsondisplay,sothetrophiescouldnotbe“collected.”Ispentafewminutestryinginvaintocutoneofthemfreeofitspedestalwithalaserweldingtorchbeforecallingitquits.

Anotherdeadend.Thiswholetriphadbeenawasteoftime.Itookonelastlook

aroundandheadedfortheexit,tryingnottoletmyfrustrationgetthebestofme.

Idecidedtotakeadifferentrouteonmywaybackuptothesurface,throughasectionofthemuseumI’dneverfullyexploredonmypreviousvisits.Iwanderedthroughaseriesoftunnelsthatledmeintoagiant,cavernouschamber.Itcontainedakindofundergroundcitycomprisedentirelyofpizzajoints,bowlingalleys,conveniencestores,and,ofcourse,videoarcades.Iwanderedthroughthemazeofemptystreets,thendownawindingbackalleythatdead-endedbytheentranceofasmallpizzashop.

IfrozeinmytrackswhenIsawthenameoftheplace.

ItwascalledHappytimePizza,anditwasareplicaofasmallfamily-runpizzajointthathadexistedinHalliday’shometowninthemid-1980s.

HallidayappearedtohavecopiedthecodeforHappytimePizzafromhisMiddletownsimulationandhiddenaduplicateofithereintheArchaidemuseum.

Whatthehellwasitdoinghere?I’dneverseenitsexistencementionedonanyoftheguntermessageboardsorstrategyguides.Wasitpossiblenoonehadeverspotteditbeforenow?

HallidaymentionedHappytimePizzaseveraltimesintheAlmanac,soIknewhehadfondmemoriesofthisplace.He’doftencomehereafterschool,toavoidgoinghome.

Theinteriorre-createdtheatmosphereofaclassic’80spizzaparlorandvideoarcadeinlovingdetail.SeveralNPCemployeesstoodbehindthecounter,tossingdoughandslicingpies.(IturnedonmyOlfatrixtowerClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd219

5/24/112:06PM

220:ErnestCline

anddiscoveredthatIcouldactuallysmellthetomatosauce.)Theshopwasdividedintotwohalves,thegameroomandthediningroom.Thediningroom

hadvideogamesinitaswell—alloftheglass-toptableswereactuallysit-downarcadegamesknownas“cocktailcabinets.”YoucouldsitandplayDonkeyKongonthetablewhileyouateyourpizza.

IfI’dbeenhungry,Icouldhaveorderedarealsliceofpizzaatthecounter.Theorderwouldhavebeenforwardedtoapizzavendornearmyapartmentcomplex,theoneI’dspecifiedinmyOASISaccount’sfoodservicepreferencesettings.Thenaslicewouldhavebeendeliveredtomydoorinamatterofminutes,andthecost(includingtip)wouldhavebeendeductedfrommyOASISaccountbalance.

AsIwalkedintothegameroom,IheardaBryanAdamssongblastingoutofthespeakersmountedonthecarpetedwalls.Bryanwassingingabouthow,everywherehewent,thekidswantedtorock.Ipressedmythumbtoaplateonthechangemachineandboughtasinglequarter.Iscoopeditoutofthestainless-steeltrayandheadedtothebackofthegameroom,takinginallofthesimulation’slittledetails.Ispottedahand-writtennotetapedtothemarqueeofaDefendergame.Itreadbeattheowner’shighscoreandwinafreelargepizza!

ARobotrongamewascurrentlydisplayingitshigh-scorelist.Robotronalloweditsall-timebestplayertoenteranentiresentenceoftextbesidetheirscoreinsteadofjusttheirinitials,andthismachine’stopdoghadusedhispreciousvictoryspacetoannouncethatVice-PrincipalRundbergisatotaldouchebag!

IcontinuedfartherintothedarkelectroniccaveandwalkeduptoaPac-Manmachineattheverybackoftheroom,wedgedbetweenaGalagaandaDigDug.Theblack-and-yellowcabinetwascoveredwithchipsandscratches,andthegarishside-artwaspeeling.

ThePac-Mangame’smonitorwasdark,andtherewasanoutofordersigntapedtoit.WhywouldHallidayincludeabrokengameinthissimulation?Wasthisjustanotheratmosphericdetail?Intrigued,Idecidedtoinvestigatefurther.

Ipulledthegamecabinetoutfromthewallandsawthatthepowercordwasunplugged.Ipluggeditbackintothewallsocketandwaitedforthegametobootup.Itseemedtoworkfine.

AsIwasshovingthecabinetbackintoplace,Ispottedsomething.Atthetopofthegame,restingonthemetalbracethatheldtheglassmarqueeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd220

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:221

inplace,wasasinglequarter.Thedateonthecoinwas1981—theyearPac-Manhadbeenreleased.

Iknewthatbackinthe’80s,placingyourquarteronagame’smarqueewashowyoureservedthenextturnonthemachine.ButwhenItriedtoremovethequarter,itwouldn’tbudge.Likeitwasweldedinplace.

Weird.

IslappedtheoutofordersignontheneighboringGalagacabinetandlookedatthestart-upscreen,whichwaslistingoffthegame’svillain-ousghosts:Inky,Blinky,Pinky,andClyde.Thehighscoreatthetopofthescreenwas3,333,350points.

Severalthingswerestrangeaboutthis.Intherealworld,Pac-Manmachinesdidn’tsavetheirhighscoreiftheywereunplugged.Andthehigh-scorecounterwassupposedtoflipoverat1,000,000points.Butthismachinedisplayedahighscoreof3,333,350points—just10pointsshyofthehighestPac-Manscorepossible.

Theonlywaytobeatthatscorewouldbetoplayaperfectgame.

Ifeltmypulsequicken.I’duncoveredsomethinghere.SomesortofEasteregg,hiddeninsidethisoldcoin-opvideogame.Itwasn’ttheEasteregg.JustanEasteregg.Somesortofchallengeorpuzzle,oneIwasalmostcertainhadbeencreatedandplacedherebyHalliday.Ididn’tknowifithadanythingtodowiththeJadeKey.Itmightnotberelatedtotheeggatall.Buttherewasonlyonewaytofindout.

IwouldhavetoplayaperfectgameofPac-Man.

Thiswasnoeasyfeat.Youhadtoplayall256levelsperfectly,allthewayuptothefinalsplit-screen.Andyouhadtoeateverysingledot,energizer,fruit,andghostpossiblealongtheway,withouteverlosingasinglelife.Lessthantwenty

perfectgameshadbeendocumentedinthegame’ssixty-yearhistory.Oneofthem,thefastestperfectgameeverplayed,hadbeenaccomplishedbyJamesHallidayinjustunderfourhours.He’ddoneitonanoriginalPac-ManmachinelocatedintheGregariousGamesbreakroom.

BecauseIknewHallidaylovedthegame,I’dalreadydoneafairamountofresearchonPac-Man.ButI’dnevermanagedtoplayaperfectgame.Ofcourse,I’dneverreallymadeaseriousattempt.Upuntilnow,I’dneverhadareasonto.

IopenedmygraildiaryandpulledupallofthePac-Man–relateddataI’devercollected.Theoriginalgamecode.Theunabridgedbiographyofthedesigner,ToruIwatani.EveryPac-Manstrategyguideeverwritten.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd221

5/24/112:06PM

222:ErnestCline

EveryepisodeofthePac-Mancartoonseries.TheingredientsforPac-Mancereal.And,ofcourse,patterns.IhadPac-Manpatterndiagramsoutthewazoo,alongwithhundredsofhoursofarchivedvideoofthebestPac-Manplayersinhistory.I’dalreadystudiedalotofthisstuff,butIskimmedoveritagainnowtorefreshmymemory.ThenIclosedmygraildiaryandstudiedthePac-Manmachineinfrontofme,likeagunfightersizingupanopponent.

Istretchedmyarms,rolledmyheadandneckaroundonmyshoulders,andcrackedmyknuckles.

WhenIdroppedaquarterintotheleftcoinslot,thegameemittedafamiliarelectronicbea-wup!sound.ItappedthePlayerOnebutton,andthefirstmazeappearedonthescreen.

Iwrappedmyrighthandaroundthejoystickandbegantoplay,guidingmypizza-shapedprotagonistthroughonemazeafteranother.Wakka-wakka-wakka-wakka.

MysyntheticsurroundingsfadedawayasIfocusedonthegameandlostmyself

initsancienttwo-dimensionalreality.JustaswithDungeonsofDaggorath,Iwasnowplayingasimulationwithinasimulation.Agamewithinagame.

Ihadseveralfalsestarts.Iwouldplayforanhour,oreventwo;thenI’dmakeonetinymistakeandI’dhavetorebootthemachineandstartallover.ButIwasnowonmyeighthattempt,andI’dbeenplayingforsixhoursstraight.Iwasrockin’likeDokken.ThisgamehadbeenIceman-perfectsofar.Two-hundredandfifty-fivescreensinandIstillhadn’tmadeasinglemistake.I’dmanagedtonailallfourghostswitheverysinglepowerpill(untiltheeighteenthmaze,whentheystopturningbluealtogether),andI’dsnaggedeverybonusfruit,bird,bell,andkeythathadappeared,withoutdyingonce.

Iwashavingthebestgameofmylife.Thiswasit.Icouldfeelit.Everythingwasfinallyfallingintoplace.Ihadtheglow.

Therewasaspotineachmaze,justabovethestartingposition,whereitwaspossibleto“hide”Pac-Manforuptofifteenminutes.Inthatlocation,theghostscouldn’tfindhim.Usingthistrick,I’dbeenabletotaketwoquickfoodandbathroombreaksduringthepastsixhours.

AsIchompedmywaythroughthe255thscreen,thesong“Pac-ManClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd222

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:223

Fever”begantoblastoutofthegameroomstereo.Asmilecreptontomyface.Iknewthishadtobeasmalltip-of-the-hatfromHalliday.

Stickingtomytried-and-truepatternonelasttime,Iwhippedthejoystickright,slidintothesecretdoor,thenouttheoppositesideandstraightdowntosnagthelastfewremainingdots,clearingtheboard.Itookadeepbreathastheoutlineofthebluemazebegantopulsewhite.AndthenIsawit,staringmeintheface.Thefabledsplit-screen.Theendofthegame.

Then,intheworstcaseofbadtimingimaginable,aScoreboardalertflashedonmydisplay,justafewsecondsafterIbegantoplaythroughthefinalscreen.

Thetoptenrankingsappeared,superimposedovermyviewofthePac-Manscreen,andIglancedatthemjustlongenoughtoseethatAechhadnowbecomethesecondpersontofindtheJadeKey.Hisscorehadjustjumped19,000points,puttinghiminsecondplaceandknockingmeintothird.

Bysomemiracle,Imanagednottoflipout.IstayedfocusedonmyPac-Mangame.

Igrippedthejoysticktighter,refusingtoletthiswreckmyconcentration.Iwasnearlyfinished!Ionlyhadtomilkthefinal6,760possiblepointsfromthislastgarbledmazeandthenIwouldfinallyhavethehighscore.

MyheartpoundedintimewiththemusicasIclearedtheunblemishedlefthalfofthemaze.ThenIventuredintothetwistedterrainoftherighthalf,guidingPac-Manthroughthepixelatedon-screenrefuseofthegame’sdepletedmemory.Hiddenunderneathallofthosejunkspritesandgarbledgraphicswereninemoredots,worthtenpointseach.Icouldn’tseethem,butIhadtheirlocationsmemorized.Iquicklyfoundandateallnine,gaining90morepoints.ThenIturnedandranintothenearestghost—Clyde—

andcommittedPacicide,dyingforthefirsttimeinthegame.Pac-Manfrozeandwitheredintonothingnesswithanextendedbeeewup.

EachtimePac-Mandiedonthisfinalmaze,theninehiddendotsreappearedonthedeformedrighthalfofthescreen.Sotoachievethegame’smaximumpossiblescore,Ihadtofindandeateachofthosedotsfivemoretimes,oncewitheachofmyfiveremaininglives.

IdidmybestnottothinkaboutAech,whoIknewmustbeholdingtheJadeKeyatthatverymoment.Rightnow,hewasprobablyreadingwhatevercluewasetchedintoitssurface.

Ipulledthejoysticktotheright,weavingthroughthedigitaldebrisonefinaltime.Icouldhavedoneitblindfoldedbynow.Ifish-hookedaroundClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd223

5/24/112:06PM

224:ErnestCline

Pinkytograbthetwodotsnearthebottom,thenanotherthreeinthecenter,andthenthelastfournearthetop.

I’ddoneit.Ihadthenewhighscore:3,333,360points.Aperfectgame.

ItookmyhandsoffthecontrolsandwatchedasallfourghostsconvergedonPac-Man.gameoverflashedinthecenterofthemaze.

Iwaited.Nothinghappened.Afterafewseconds,thegame’sattractscreencamebackup,showingthefourghosts,theirnames,andtheirnicknames.

Mygazeshottothequartersittingontheedgeofthemarqueebrace.

Earlierithadbeenweldedinplace,unmovable.Butnowittumbledforwardandfellend-over-end,landingdirectlyinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.Thenitvanished,andamessageflashedonmydisplayinformingmethatthequarterhadautomaticallybeenaddedtomyinventory.WhenItriedtotakeitbackoutandexamineit,IfoundthatIcouldn’t.Thequartericonremainedinmyinventory.Icouldn’ttakeitoutordropit.

Ifthequarterhadanymagicalproperties,theyweren’trevealedinitsitemdescription,whichwascompletelyempty.Tolearnanythingmoreaboutthequarter,Iwouldhavetocastaseriesofhigh-leveldivinationspellsonit.Thatwouldtakedaysandrequirealotofexpensivespellcomponents,andeventhentherewasnoguaranteethespellswouldtellmeanything.

Butatthemoment,Iwashavingahardtimecaringallthatmuchaboutthemysteryoftheundroppablequarter.AllIcouldthinkaboutwasthatAechandArt3mishadnowbothbeatenmetotheJadeKey.AndgettingthehighscoreonthisPac-MangameonArchaideobviouslyhadn’tgottenmeanyclosertofindingitmyself.Ireallyhadbeenwastingmytimehere.

Iheadedbackuptotheplanet’ssurface.JustasIwassittingdownintheVonnegut’scockpit,ane-mailfromAecharrivedinmyinbox.IfeltmypulsequickenwhenIsawitssubjectline:PaybackTime.

Holdingmybreath,Iopenedthemessageandreadit:DearParzival,

YouandIareofficiallyevennow,gotthat?Iconsidermydebttoyouherebypaidinfull.

Betterhurry.TheSixersmustalreadybeontheirwaythere.

Goodluck,

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd224

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:225

Belowhissignaturewasanimagefilehe’dattachedtothemessage.Itwasahigh-resolutionscanoftheinstructionmanualcoverforthetextadventuregameZork—theversionreleasedin1980byPersonalSoftwarefortheTRS-80ModelIII.

I’dplayedandsolvedZorkonce,alongtimeago,backduringthefirstyearoftheHunt.ButI’dalsoplayedhundredsofotherclassictextadventuregamesthatyear,includingallofZork’ssequels,andsomostofthedetailsofthegamehadnowfadedinmymemory.Mostoldtextadventuregameswereprettyself-explanatory,soI’dneveractuallybotheredtoreadtheZorkinstructionmanual.Inowknewthatthishadabeenacolossalmistake.

Onthemanual’scoverwasapaintingdepictingascenefromthegame.

Aswashbucklingadventurerwearingarmorandawingedhelmetstoodwithaglowingblueswordraisedoverhishead,preparingtostrikeatrollcoweringbeforehim.Theadventurerclutchedseveraltreasuresinhisotherhand,andmoretreasureslayathisfeet,scatteredamonghumanbones.Adark,fangedcreaturelurkedjustbehindthehero,gloweringma-levolently.

Allofthiswasinthepainting’sforeground,butmyeyeshadinstantlylockedon

whatwasinthebackground:alargewhitehouse,withitsfrontdoorandwindowsallboardedup.

Adwellinglongneglected.

Istaredattheimageafewmoreseconds,justlongenoughtocursemyselffornotmakingtheconnectiononmyown,monthsago.ThenIfiredtheVonnegut’senginesandsetacourseforanotherplanetinSectorSeven,notfarfromArchaide.ItwassmallworldcalledFrobozzthatwashometoadetailedre-creationofthegameZork.

Itwasalso,Inowknew,thehidingplaceoftheJadeKey.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd225

5/24/112:06PM

FrobozzwaslocatedinagroupofseveralhundredrarelyvisitedworldsknownastheXYZZYCluster.TheseplanetsalldatedbacktotheearlydaysoftheOASIS,andeachonere-createdtheenvironmentofsomeclassictextadventuregameorMUD(multi-userdungeon).Eachoftheseworldswasakindofshrine—aninteractivetributetotheOASIS’searliestancestors.

Textadventuregames(oftenreferredtoas“interactivefiction”bymodernscholars)usedtexttocreatethevirtualenvironmenttheplayerinhabited.Thegameprogramprovidedyouwithasimplewrittendescriptionofyoursurroundings,thenaskedwhatyouwantedtodonext.

Tomovearoundorinteractwithyourvirtualsurroundings,youkeyedintextcommandstellingthegamewhatyouwantedyouravatartodo.

Theseinstructionshadtobeverysimple,usuallycomposedofjusttwoorthreewords,suchas“gosouth”or“getsword.”Ifacommandwastoocomplex,thegame’ssimpleparsingenginewouldn’tbeabletounderstandit.Byreadingandtypingtext,youmadeyourwaythroughthevirtualworld,collectingtreasure,fightingmonsters,avoidingtraps,andsolvingpuzzlesuntilyoufinallyreached

theendofthegame.

ThefirsttextadventuregameI’deverplayedwascalledColossalCave,andinitiallythetext-onlyinterfacehadseemedincrediblysimpleandcrudetome.Butafterplayingforafewminutes,Iquicklybecameimmersedintherealitycreatedbythewordsonthescreen.Somehow,thegame’ssimpletwo-sentenceroomdescriptionswereabletoconjureupvividimagesinmymind’seye.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd226

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:227

Zorkwasoneoftheearliestandmostfamoustextadventuregames.

Accordingtomygraildiary,I’dplayedthegamethroughtotheendjustonce,allinoneday,overfouryearsago.Sincethen,inashockingdisplayofunforgivableignorance,I’dsomehowforgottentwoveryimportantdetailsaboutthegame:

1.Zorkbeganwithyourcharacterstandingoutsideashutteredwhitehouse.

2.Insidethelivingroomofthatwhitehousetherewasatrophycase.

Tocompletethegame,everytreasureyoucollectedhadtobereturnedtothelivingroomandplacedinsidethetrophycase.

Finally,therestoftheQuatrainmadesense.

Decadesago,Zorkanditssequelshadallbeenlicensedandre-createdinsidetheOASISasstunningthree-dimensionalimmersivesimulationsalllocatedontheplanetFrobozz,whichwasnamedafteracharacterintheZorkuniverse.Sothedwellinglongneglected—theoneI’dbeentryingtolocateforthepastsixmonths—hadbeensittingrightoutintheopenonFrobozzthisentiretime.Hidinginplainsight.

Icheckedtheship’snavigationalcomputer.Travelingatlightspeed,itwouldtakemejustoverfifteenminutestoreachFrobozz.TherewasagoodchancetheSixerswouldbeatmethere.Iftheydid,therewouldprobablyalreadybeasmallarmadaofSixergunshipswaitinginorbitaroundtheplanetwhenIdroppedoutoflightspeed.Iwouldhavetofightmywaythroughthemtoreachthesurface,andtheneitherlosethem,ortrytofindtheJadeKeywiththemstillbreathingdownmyneck.Notagoodscenario.

Luckily,Ihadabackupplan.MyRingofTeleportation.Itwasoneofthemostvaluablemagicitemsinmyinventory,lootedfromthehoardofareddragonI’dslainonGygax.TheringallowedmyavatartoteleportClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd227

5/24/112:06PM

228:ErnestCline

onceamonth,toanylocationintheOASIS.Ionlyuseditindireemer-genciesasalast-ditchmeansofescape,orwhenIneededtogetsomewhereinabighurry.Likerightnow.

IquicklyprogrammedtheVonnegut’sonboardcomputertoautopilottheshiptoFrobozz.Iinstructedittoactivateitscloakingdeviceassoonasitdroppedoutofhyperspace,thenlocatemeontheplanet’ssurfaceandlandsomewherenearby.IfIwaslucky,theSixerswouldn’tdetectmyshipandblastitoutoftheskybeforeitcouldreachme.Iftheydid,I’dbestuckonFrobozzwithnowaytoleave,whiletheentireSixerarmyclosedinonme.

IengagedtheVonnegut’sautopilot,thenactivatedmyRingofTeleportationbyspeakingthecommandword,“Brundell.”Whentheringbegantoglow,IsaidthenameoftheplanetwhereIwishedtoteleport.AworldmapofFrobozzappearedonmydisplay.Itwasalargeworld,andliketheplanetMiddletown,itssurfacewascoveredwithhundredsofidenticalcopiesofthesamesimulation—inthiscase,re-creationsoftheZorkplayingfield.Therewere512copiesofit,tobeexact,whichmeanttherewere512whitehouses,spacedoutevenlyacrosstheplanet’ssurface.IshouldbeabletoobtaintheJadeKeyatanyoneofthem,soIselectedoneofthecopiesatrandomonthemap.Myringemittedablindingflashoflight,andasplitsecondlatermyavatarwasthere,standingonthesurfaceofFrobozz.

IopenedmygraildiaryandlocatedmyoriginalnotesonhowtosolveZork.ThenIpulledupamapofthegame’splayingfieldandplaceditinthecornerofmydisplay.

Surveyingtheskies,Ididn’tseeanysignoftheSixers,butthatdidn’tmeantheyhadn’talreadyarrived.Sorrentoandhisunderlingshadprobablyjustteleportedtooneoftheotherplayingfields.EverybodyknewthattheSixershadalreadybeencampedoutinSectorSeven,waitingforthismoment.AssoonastheysawAech’sscoreincrease,theywouldhaveusedFyndoro’sTabletofFindingandlearnedthathewascurrentlyonFrobozz.WhichmeanttheentireSixerarmadawouldalreadybeonitswayhere.SoIneededtogettothekeyasquicklyaspossible,thengetthehellofoutDodge.

Itookalookaround.Mysurroundingswereeerilyfamiliar.

TheopeningtextdescriptioninthegameZorkreadasfollows:Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd228

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:229

WESTOFHOUSE

Youarestandinginanopenfieldwestofawhitehouse,withaboardedfrontdoor.Thereisasmallmailboxhere.

Myavatarnowstoodinthatopenfield,justwestofthewhitehouse.

ThefrontdooroftheoldVictorianmansionwasboardedup,andtherewasamailboxjustafewyardsawayfromme,attheendofthewalkwayleadingtothehouse.Thehousewassurroundedbyadenseforest,andbeyonditIsawarangeofjaggedmountainpeaks.Glancingofftomyleft,Ispottedapathleadingtothenorth,rightwhereIknewitshouldbe.

Iranaroundtothebackofthehouse.Ifoundasmallwindowthere,slightlyajar,andIforceditopenandclimbedinside.Asexpected,Ifoundmyselfinthekitchen.Awoodentablesatinthecenteroftheroom,andonitrestedalongbrownsackandabottleofwater.Achimneystoodnearby,andastaircaseleduptotheattic.Ahallwayofftomyleftledtothelivingroom.Justlikethegame.

Butthekitchenalsocontainedthingsthatweren’tmentionedinthegame’stextdescriptionofthisroom.Astove,arefrigerator,severalwoodenchairs,asink,andafewrowsofkitchencabinets.Iopenedthefridge.Itwasfullofjunkfood.Fossilizedpizza,snackpuddings,lunchmeat,andawidearrayofcondimentpackets.Icheckedthecupboards.

Theywerefilledwithcannedanddrygoods.Rice,pasta,soup.

Andcereal.

Oneentirecupboardwascrammedwithboxesofvintagebreakfastcereals,mostofwhichhadbeendiscontinuedbeforeI’dbeenborn.FruitLoops,Honeycombs,LuckyCharms,CountChocula,Quisp,FrostedFlakes.AndhiddenwayatthebackwasaloneboxofCap’nCrunch.

Printedclearlyonthefrontofitwerethewordsfreetoywhistleinside!

ThecaptainconcealstheJadeKey.

Idumpedthecontentsoftheboxoutonthecounter,scatteringgoldencerealnuggetseverywhere.ThenIspottedit—asmallplasticwhistleencasedinaclearcellophaneenvelope.Itoreoffthecellophaneandheldthewhistleinmyhand.Itwasyellowincolor,withthecartoonfaceofCap’nCrunchmoldedononesideandasmalldogontheother.Thewordscap’ncrunchbo’sunwhistlewereembossedoneitherside.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd229

5/24/112:06PM

230:ErnestCline

Iraisedthewhistletomyavatar’slipsandblewintoit.Butthewhistleemittednosound,andnothinghappened.

Youcanonlyblowthewhistleoncethetrophiesareallcollected.

Ipocketedthewhistleandopenedthesackonthekitchentable.Isawacloveofgarlicinside,andIaddedittomyinventory.ThenIranwest,intothelivingroom.ThefloorwascoveredwithalargeOrientalrug.Antiquefurniture,thekindI’dseeninfilmsfromthe1940s,waspositionedaroundtheroom.Awoodendoorwithoddcharacterscarvedintoitssurfacewassetintothewestwall.Andagainsttheoppositewalltherewasabeautifulglasstrophycase.Itwasempty.Abattery-poweredlanternsatontopofthecase,andashiningswordwasmountedonthewalldirectlyaboveit.

Itooktheswordandthelantern,thenrolleduptheOrientalrug,uncoveringthetrapdoorIalreadyknewwashiddenunderneath.Iopenedit,revealingastaircasethatleddownintoadarkenedcellar.

Iturnedonthelamp.AsIdescendedthestaircase,myswordbegantoglow.

IcontinuedtorefertotheZorknotesinmygraildiary,whichremindedme

exactlyhowtomakemywaythroughthegame’slabyrinthofrooms,passageways,andpuzzles.Icollectedallnineteenofthegame’streasuresasIwent,returningrepeatedlytothelivingroominthewhitehousetoplacetheminthetrophycase,afewatatime.Alongtheway,IhadtodobattlewithseveralNPCs:atroll,aCyclops,andareallyannoyingthief.Asforthelegendarygrue,lurkinginthedark,waitingtodineonmyflesh—Isimplyavoidedhim.

AsidefromtheCap’nCrunchwhistlehiddeninthekitchen,Ifoundnosurprisesordeviationsfromtheoriginalgame.Tosolvethisimmersivethree-dimensionalversionofZork,Isimplyhadtoperformtheexactsameactionsrequiredtosolvetheoriginaltext-basedgame.Byrunningattopspeedandbyneverstoppingtosightseeorsecond-guessmyself,Imanagedtocompletethegameintwenty-twominutes.

ShortlyafterIcollectedthelastofthegame’snineteentreasures,atinybrassbauble,anoticeflashedinmydisplayinformingmethattheVonneguthadarrivedoutside.Theautopilothadjustlandedtheshipinthefieldtothewestofthewhitehouse.ItscloakingdevicewasstillengagedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd230

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:231

anditsshieldswereup.IftheSixerswerealreadyhere,inorbitaroundtheplanet,Iwashopingtheyhadn’tspottedmyship.

Iranbacktothelivingroomofthewhitehouseonelasttimeandplacedthefinaltreasureinsidethetrophycase.Justasintheoriginalgame,amapappearedinsidethecase,directingmetoahiddenbarrowthatmarkedtheendofthegame.ButIwasn’tconcernedwiththemaporwithfinishingthegame.Allofthe“trophies”werenow“collected”inthecase,soItookouttheCap’nCrunchwhistle.Ithadthreeholesacrossthetop,andIcoveredthethirdonetogeneratethe2600-hertztonethathadmadethiswhistlefamousintheannalsofhackerhistory.ThenIblewoneclear,shrillnote.

Thewhistletransformedintoasmallkey,andmyscoreonthescore-boardincreasedby18,000points.

Iwasbackinsecondplace,amere1,000pointsaheadofAech.

Asecondlater,theentireZorksimulationresetitself.Thenineteenitemsinthetrophycasevanished,returningtotheiroriginallocations,andtherestofthehouseandthegame’splayingfieldreturnedtothesamestateinwhichI’dfoundthem.

AsIstaredatthekeyinthepalmofmyhand,Ifeltabriefjoltofpanic.

Thekeywassilver,notthemilkygreencolorofjade.ButwhenIturnedthekeyoverandexamineditmoreclosely,Isawthatitactuallyappearedtobewrappedinsilverfoil,likeastickofgumorabarofchocolate.Icarefullypeeledthewrapperaway,andakeymadeofpolishedgreenstonewasrevealedinside.

TheJadeKey.

AndjustliketheCopperKey,Isawthatithadaclueetchedintoitssurface:

Continueyourquestbytakingthetest

Irereaditseveraltimes,buthadnoimmediaterevelationsastoitsmeaning,soIplacedthekeyinmyinventory,thenexaminedthewrapper.

Itwassilverfoilononesideandwhitepaperontheother.Ididn’tseeanymarkingsoneitherside.

Justthen,IheardthemuffledroarofapproachingspacecraftandknewitmustbetheSixers.Itsoundedliketheywerehereinforce.

Ipocketedthewrapperandranoutofthehouse.Overhead,thousandsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd231

5/24/112:06PM

232:ErnestCline

ofSixergunshipsfilledtheskylikeanangryswarmofmetalwasps.Theshipswereseparatingintosmallgroupsastheydescended,headingoffindifferent

directions,asiftoblankettheentiresurfaceoftheplanet.

Ididn’tthinktheSixerswouldbefoolishenoughtotrytobarricadeall512instancesofthewhitehouse.ThatstrategyhadworkedforthemonLudus,butonlyforafewhours,andthey’donlyhadonelocationtobarricade.TheentireplanetofFrobozzwasinaPvPzone,andbothmagicandtechnologyfunctionedhere,whichmeantthatallbetswereoff.Therewouldbehordesofguntersarrivingheresoon,armedtotheteeth,andiftheSixerstriedtokeepallofthematbay,itwouldmeanwaronascaleneverbeforeseeninthehistoryoftheOASIS.

AsIcontinuedrunningacrossthefieldanduptherampofmyship,Ispottedalargesquadronofgunships,aboutahundredorso,descendingfromtheskydirectlyabovemylocation.Theyappearedtobeheadedstraightforme.

MaxhadalreadypowereduptheVonnegut’sengines,soIshoutedforhimtoliftoffassoonasIwasaboard.WhenIreachedthecockpitcontrols,Ithrewthethrottlewideopen,andthedescendingswarmofSixergunshipsbankedhardtofollowme.Asmyshipblasteditswayskyward,Ibegantotakeheavyfirefromseveraldirections.ButIwaslucky.Myshipwasfast,andmyshieldsweretop-of-the-line,sotheymanagedtoholduplongenoughformetoreachorbit.Buttheyfailedafewsecondslater,andtheVonnegut’shullsufferedanalarmingamountofdamageinthehandfulofsecondsittookmetomakethejumptolightspeed.

Itwasaclosecall.Thebastardsalmostgotme.

Myshipwasinbadshape,soinsteadofreturningdirectlytomystronghold,IheadedtoJoe’sGarage,anorbitalstarshiprepairshopoverinSectorTen.Joe’swasanhonestNPC-operatedestablishment,withreasonableratesandlightning-fastservice.IusedthemwhenevertheVonnegutneededrepairsorupgrades.

WhileJoeandhisboysworkedonmyship,IsentAechabriefe-mailtosaythanks.Itoldhimthatwhateverdebthefeltheowedmewasnowmostdefinitelypaidinfull.Ialsocoppedtobeingacolossallyinsensitive,self-centeredassholeandbeggedhimtoforgiveme.

Assoonastherepairstomyshipwerefinished,Iheadedbacktomy

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd232

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:233

stronghold.ThenIspenttherestofthedaygluedtothenewsfeeds.ThewordaboutFrobozzwasout,andeverygunterwiththemeanshadalreadyteleportedthere.Thousandsofotherswerearrivingbyspacecrafteveryminute,todobattlewiththeSixersandsecuretheirowncopyoftheJadeKey.

Thenewsfeedswereairinglivecoverageofthehundredsoflarge-scalebattlesbreakingoutonFrobozz,aroundnearlyeveryinstanceofthe

“dwellinglongneglected.”ThebiggunterclanshadonceagainbandedtogethertolaunchacoordinatedattackontheSixers’forces.ItwasthebeginningofwhatwouldcometobeknownastheBattleofFrobozz,andcasualtieswerealreadymountingonbothsides.

IalsokeptacloseeyeontheScoreboard,waitingtoseeevidencethattheSixershadbeguntocollectcopiesoftheJadeKeywhiletheirforcesheldtheoppositionatbay.AsIfeared,thenextscoretoincreasewastheonebesideSorrento’sIOIemployeenumber.Itjumped17,000points,movinghimintofourthplace.

NowthattheSixersknewexactlywhereandhowtoobtaintheJadeKey,Iexpectedtoseetheirotheravatars’scoresbegintojumpasSorrento’sunderlingsfollowedhislead.Buttomysurprise,thenextavatartosnagtheJadeKeywasnoneotherthanShoto.HediditlessthantwentyminutesafterSorrento.

Somehow,ShotohadmanagedtoevadethehordesofSixerscurrentlyswarmingallovertheplanet,enteraninstanceofthewhitehouse,collectallnineteenoftherequiredtreasures,andobtainhiscopyofthekey.

IcontinuedtowatchtheScoreboard,expectingtoseehisbrotherDaito’sscoreincreaseaswell.Butthatneverhappened.

Instead,afewminutesafterShotoobtainedhiscopyofthekey,Daito’sname

disappearedfromtheScoreboardentirely.Therewasonlyonepossibleexplanation:Daitohadjustbeenkilled.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd233

5/24/112:06PM

Overthenexttwelvehours,chaoscontinuedtoreignonFrobozzaseverygunterintheOASISscrambledtoreachtheplanetandjointhefray.

TheSixershaddispersedtheirgrandarmyacrosstheglobeinaboldattempttoblockadeall512copiesoftheZorkplayingfield.Buttheirforces,asvastandwell-equippedastheywere,werespreadfartoothinthistime.

OnlysevenmoreoftheiravatarsmanagedtoobtaintheJadeKeythatday.

AndwhenthegunterclansbegantheircoordinatedattackontheSixers’forces,the“boobsinblue”begantosufferheavycasualtiesandwereforcedtopullback.

Withinamatterofhours,theSixerhighcommanddecidedtodeployanewstrategy.Ithadquicklybecomeobviousthattheywouldn’tbeabletomaintainoverfivehundreddifferentblockadesorfendoffthemassiveinfluxofgunters.SotheyregroupedalloftheirforcesaroundtenadjacentinstancesoftheZorkplayingfieldneartheplanet’ssouthpole.Theyinstalledpowerfulforceshieldsovereachofthemandstationedarmoredbattalionsoutsidetheshieldwalls.

Thisscaled-downstrategyworked,andtheSixers’forcesprovedsufficienttoholdthosetenlocationsandpreventanyotherguntersfromgettinginside(andtherewasn’tmuchreasonforothergunterstotry,sinceoverfivehundredotherinstancesofZorknowstoodwideopenandun-protected).NowthattheSixerscouldoperateundisturbed,theybasicallyformedtenlinesofavatarsoutsideeachwhitehouseandbegantorunthemClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd234

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:235

throughtheprocessofobtainingtheJadeKey,oneafteranother.Everyonecouldplainlyseewhattheyweredoing,becausethedigitsbesideeachIOIemployeenumberontheScoreboardbegantoincreaseby15,000points.

Atthesametime,hundredsofgunterscoreswereincreasingaswell.

NowthatthelocationoftheJadeKeywaspublicknowledge,decipheringtheQuatrainandfiguringouthowtoobtainthekeywasrelativelyeasy.ItwasthereforthetakingtoanyonewhohadalreadyclearedtheFirstGate.

AstheBattleofFrobozzdrewtoaclose,therankingsontheScoreboardstoodlikethis:

HIGHSCORES:

1.Art3mis

129,000

2.Parzival

128,000

3.Aech

127,000

4.IOI-655321

122,000

5.Shoto

122,000

6.IOI-643187

120,000

7.IOI-621671

120,000

8.IOI-678324

120,000

9.IOI-637330

120,000

10.IOI-699423

120,000

EventhoughShotohadmatchedSorrento’sscoreof122,000points,Sorrentohadachievedthatscorefirst,whichmustbethereasonhe’dremainedinthehigherslot.TherelativelysmallpointbonusesArt3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIhadreceivedforbeingthefirsttoreachtheCopperandJadekeyswerewhatkeptournamesinthehallowed“HighFive”slots.

Sorrentohadnowearnedoneofthesebonusestoo.SeeinghisIOIemployeenumberaboveShoto’snamemademecringe.

Scrollingdown,IsawthattheScoreboardwasnowoverfivethousandnameslong,withmorebeingaddedeveryhourasnewavatarsfinallymanagedtodefeatAcererakatJoustandcollecttheirowninstanceoftheCopperKey.

NooneonthemessageboardsseemedtoknowwhathadhappenedtoDaito,butthecommonassumptionwasthathe’dbeenkilledbytheSixersduringthefirstfewminutesoftheBattleofFrobozz.RumorsaboutClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd235

5/24/112:06PM

236:ErnestCline

exactlyhowhehaddiedwererunningrampant,butnoonehadactuallybeenwitnesstohisdemise.ExceptformaybeShoto,andhe’dvanished.Isenthimafewchatrequests,butgotnoreply.Likeme,IassumedhewasfocusingallofhisenergyonfindingtheSecondGatebeforetheSixersdid.

Isatinmystronghold,staringattheJadeKeyandrecitingthewordsetchedintoitsspine,overandover,likeamaddeningmantra:

Continueyourquestbytakingthetest

Yes,butwhattest?WhattestwasIsupposedtotake?TheKobayashiMaru?ThePepsiChallenge?Couldthecluehavebeenanymorevague?

Ireachedundermyvisorandrubbedmyeyesinfrustration.IdecidedIneededtotakeabreakandgetsomesleep.Ipulledupmyavatar’sinventoryandplacedtheJadeKeybackinside.AsIdid,Inoticedthesilverfoilwrapperintheinventoryslotbesideit—thewrapperthathadcoveredtheJadeKeywhenitfirstappearedinmyhand.

Iknewthesecrettodecipheringtheriddlemustinvolvethewrapperinsomeway,butIstillcouldn’tsortouthow.IwonderedifitmightbeareferencetoWillyWonkaandtheChocolateFactory,butthendecidedagainstit.Therehadn’tbeenanygoldenticketinsidethewrapper.Itmusthavesomeotherpurposeormeaning.

IstaredatthewrapperandponderedthisuntilIcouldnolongerkeepmyeyesopen.ThenIloggedoutandwenttosleep.

Afewhourslater,at6:12a.m.OST,Iwasjoltedawakebythegut-wrenchingsoundofmyScoreboardalarmalertingmethatoneofthetoprankingshadchangedagain.

Filledwithagrowingsenseofdread,IloggedinandpulleduptheScoreboard,unsureofwhattoexpect.MaybeArt3mishadfinallyclearedGateTwo?OrperhapsAechorShotohadachievedthathonor.

Butalloftheirscoresremainedunchanged.Tomyhorror,IsawthatitwasSorrento’sscorethathadincreased,by200,000points.Andtwogateiconsnowappearedbesideit.

SorrentohadjustbecomethefirstpersontofindandcleartheSec-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd236

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:237

ondGate.Asaresult,hisavatarnowstoodinfirstplace,atthetopoftheScoreboard.

Isattherefrozen,staringatSorrento’semployeenumber,silentlyweighingtherepercussionsofwhathadjusthappened.

Uponexitingthegate,SorrentowouldhavebeengivenaclueastothelocationoftheCrystalKey.Thekeythatwouldopenthethirdandfinalgate.SonowtheSixersweretheonlyoneswhopossessedthatclue.WhichmeanttheywerenowclosertofindingHalliday’sEastereggthananyonehadeverbeen.

Isuddenlyfeltill,andIwasalsohavingadifficulttimebreathing.IrealizedImustbehavingsomesortofpanicattack.Atotalandcompletefreak-out.Amassivementalmeltdown.Whateveryouwanttocallit.Iwentalittlenuts.

ItriedcallingAech,buthedidn’tpickup.Eitherhewasstillpissedoffatme,orhehadother,morepressingmatterstoattendto.IwasabouttocallShoto,butthenIrememberedthathisbrother’savatarhadjustbeenkilled.Heprobablywasn’tinaveryreceptivemood.

IconsideredflyingtoBenatartotrytogetArt3mistotalktome,butthenIcametomysenses.She’dhadtheJadeKeyinherpossessionforseveraldays,andshestillhadn’tbeenabletocleartheSecondGate.LearningthattheSixershaddoneitinlessthantwenty-fourhourshadprobablydrivenherintoapsychoticrage.Ormaybeacatatonicstupor.Sheprobablydidn’tfeelliketalkingtoanyonerightnow,leastofallme.

Itriedcallingheranyway.Asusual,shedidn’tanswer.

IwassodesperatetohearafamiliarvoicethatIresortedtotalkingtoMax.Inmycurrentstate,evenhisglibcomputer-generatedvoicewassomehowcomforting.Ofcourse,itdidn’ttakelongforMaxtorunoutofpreprogrammedreplies;andwhenhestartedtorepeathimselftheillusionthatIwastalkingtoanotherpersonwasshattered,andIfeltevenmorealone.Youknowyou’vetotallyscrewedupyourlifewhenyourwholeworldturnstoshitandtheonlypersonyouhavetotalktoisyoursystemagentsoftware.

Icouldn’tgobacktosleep,soIstayedupwatchingthenewsfeedsandscanningtheguntermessageboards.TheSixerarmadaremainedonFrobozz,andtheiravatarswerestillfarmingcopiesoftheJadeKey.

Sorrentohadobviouslylearnedfromhispreviousmistake.NowthattheSixersaloneknewthelocationoftheSecondGate,theyweren’tgoingClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd237

5/24/112:06PM

238:ErnestCline

tobestupidenoughtorevealitslocationtotheworldbytryingtobarricadeitwiththeirarmada.Buttheywerestilltakingfulladvantageofthesituation.Asthedayprogressed,theSixerscontinuedtowalkadditionalavatarsthroughtheSecondGate.AfterSorrentomadeitthrough,anothertenSixerscleareditduringthefollowingtwenty-fourhours.AseachSixerscoreincreasedby200,000points,Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIwereallpushedfartherandfartherdowntheScoreboarduntilwe’dbeenknockedoutofthetoptenentirely,andtheScoreboard’smainpagedisplayednothingbutIOIemployeenumbers.

TheSixersnowruledtheroost.

Then,whenIwassurethingscouldn’tpossiblygetanyworse,theydid.

Theygotmuch,muchworse.TwodaysafterheclearedtheSecondGate,Sorrento’sscorejumpedanother30,000points,indicatingthathehadjustacquiredtheCrystalKey.

Isatthereinmystronghold,staringatthemonitors,watchingallofthisunfoldinstunnedhorror.Therewasnodenyingit.Theendofthecontestwasathand.Anditwasn’tgoingtoendlikeI’dalwaysthoughtitwould,withsomenoble,worthygunterfindingtheeggandwinningtheprize.I’dbeenkiddingmyselfforthepastfiveandahalfyears.Weallhad.

Thisstorywasnotgoingtohaveahappyending.Thebadguysweregoingtowin.

Ispentthenexttwenty-fourhoursinafranticfunk,obsessivelycheckingtheScoreboardeveryfiveseconds,expectingtheendtocomeatanymoment.

Sorrento,oroneofhismany“Hallidayexperts,”hadobviouslybeenabletodeciphertheriddleandlocatetheSecondGate.ButeventhoughtheproofwasrightthereontheScoreboard,Istillhadahardtimebelievingit.Upuntilnow,theSixershadonlymadeprogressbytrackingArt3mis,Aech,orme.HowhadthosesamecluelessasshatsfoundtheSecondGateontheirown?Maybethey’djustgottenlucky.Orperhapsthey’ddiscoveredsomenewandinnovativewaytocheat.Howelsecouldtheyhavesolvedtheriddlesoquickly,whenArt3mishadn’tbeenabletodoitwithseveraldays’headstart?

MybrainfeltlikehammeredPlay-Doh.Icouldn’tmakeanysenseoftheclueprintedontheJadeKey.Iwascompletelyoutofideas.Evenlameones.Ididn’t

knowwhattodoorwheretolooknext.

Asthenightwenton,theSixerscontinuedtoacquirecopiesoftheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd238

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:239

CrystalKey.Eachtimeoneoftheirscoresincreaseditwaslikeaknifeinmyheart.ButIcouldn’tmakemyselfstopcheckingtheScoreboard.Iwasutterlytransfixed.

Ifeltmyselfinchingtowardcompletehopelessness.Myeffortsoverthepastfiveyearshadbeenfornothing.I’dfoolishlyunderestimatedSorrentoandtheSixers.AndIwasabouttopaytheultimatepriceformyhubris.Thosesoullesscorporatelackeyswereclosinginontheeggatthisverymoment.Icouldsenseit,witheveryfiberofmybeing.

I’dalreadylostArt3mis,andnowIwasgoingtolosethecontest,too.

I’dalreadydecidedwhatIwasgoingtodowhenithappened.First,Iwouldchooseoneofthekidsinmyofficialfanclub,someonewithnomoneyandafirst-levelnewbieavatar,andgivehereveryitemIowned.

ThenIwouldactivatetheself-destructsequenceonmystrongholdandsitinmycommandcenterwhilethewholeplacewentupinamassivethermonuclearexplosion.Myavatarwoulddieandgameoverwouldappearinthecenterofmydisplay.ThenIwouldripoffmyvisorandleavemyapartmentforthefirsttimeinsixmonths.Iwouldridetheelevatoruptotheroof.OrmaybeIwouldeventakethestairs.Getalittleexercise.

Therewasanarboretumontheroofofmyapartmentbuilding.Ihadnevervisitedit,butI’dseenphotosandadmiredtheviewviawebcam.AtransparentPlexiglasbarrierhadbeeninstalledaroundtheledgetokeeppeoplefromjumping,butitwasajoke.AtleastthreedeterminedindividualshadmanagedtoclimboveritsinceI’dmovedin.

Iwouldsitupthereandbreathetheunfilteredcityairforawhile,feelingthewindonmyskin.ThenIwouldscalethebarrierandhurlmyselfovertheside.

Thiswasmycurrentplan.

IwastryingtodecidewhattuneIshouldwhistleasIplummetedtomydeathwhenmyphonerang.ItwasShoto.Iwasn’tinthemoodtotalk,soIlethiscallrolltovidmail,thenwatchedasShotorecordedhismessage.Itwasbrief.Hesaidheneededtocometomystrongholdtogivemesomething.SomethingDaitohadlefttomeinhiswill.

WhenIreturnedhiscalltoarrangeameeting,IcouldtellShotowasanemotionalwreck.Hisquietvoicewasfilledwithpain,andthedepthofhisdespairwasapparentonthefeaturesofhisavatar’sface.Heseemedutterlydespondent.InevenworseshapethanIwas.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd239

5/24/112:06PM

240:ErnestCline

IaskedShotowhyhisbrotherhadbotheredtomakeouta“will”forhisavatar,insteadofjustleavinghispossessionsinShoto’scare.ThenDaitocouldsimplycreateanewavatarandreclaimtheitemshisbrotherwasholdingforhim.ButShototoldmethathisbrotherwouldnotbecreatinganewavatar.Notnow,orever.WhenIaskedwhy,hepromisedtoexplainwhenhesawmeinperson.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd240

5/24/112:06PM

MaxalertedmewhenShotoarrivedanhourorsolater.IgrantedhisshipclearancetoenterFalco’sairspaceandtoldhimtoparkinmyhangar.

Shoto’svesselwasalargeinterplanetarytrawlernamedtheKurosawa,modeledafterashipcalledtheBebopintheclassicanimeseriesCowboyBebop.DaitoandShotohaduseditastheirmobilebaseofoperationsforaslongasI’dknownthem.Theshipwassobigthatitbarelyfitthroughmyhangardoors.

IwasstandingontherunwaytogreetShotoasheemergedfromtheKurosawa.Hewasdressedinblackmourningrobes,andhisfaceborethesameinconsolableexpressionI’dseenwhenwespokeonthephone.

“Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.

“Shoto-san.”Ireturnedthebowrespectfully,thenstretchedoutmypalm,agestureherecognizedfromthetimewe’dspentquestingtogether.

Grinning,hereachedoutandslippedmesomeskin.Butthenhisdarkexpressionimmediatelyresurfaced.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’dseenShotosincethequestwe’dsharedonTokusatsu(notcountingthose“DaishoEnergyDrink”commercialsheandhisbrotherappearedin),andhisavatarseemedtobeafewinchestallerthanIremembered.

Iledhimuptooneofmystronghold’srarelyused“sittingrooms,”are-creationofthelivingroomsetfromFamilyTies.Shotorecognizedthedecorandnoddedhissilentapproval.Then,ignoringthefurniture,heseatedhimselfinthecenterofthefloor.Hesatseiza-style,foldinghislegsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd241

5/24/112:06PM

242:ErnestCline

underhisthighs.Ididthesame,positioningmyselfsothatouravatarsfacedeachother.Wesatinsilenceforawhile.WhenShotowasfinallyreadytospeak,hekepthiseyesonthefloor.

“TheSixerskilledmybrotherlastnight,”hesaid,almostwhispering.

Atfirst,Iwastoostunnedtoreply.“Youmeantheykilledhisavatar?”Iasked,eventhoughIcouldalreadytellthatwasn’twhathemeant.

Shotoshookhishead.“No.Theybrokeintohisapartment,pulledhimoutofhishapticchair,andthrewhimoffhisbalcony.Helivedontheforty-thirdfloor.”

Shotoopenedabrowserwindowintheairbesideus.ItdisplayedaJapanesenewsfeedarticle.Itappeditwithmyindexfinger,andtheMandaraxsoftwaretranslatedthetexttoEnglish.Theheadlinewasanotherotakusuicide.Thebriefarticlebelowsaidthatayoungman,ToshiroYoshiaki,agetwenty-two,hadjumpedtohisdeathfromhisapartment,locatedontheforty-thirdfloorofaconvertedhotelinShinjuku,Tokyo,wherehelivedalone.IsawaschoolphotoofToshirobesidethearticle.

HewasayoungJapanesemanwithlong,unkempthairandbadskin.Hedidn’tlookanythinglikehisOASISavatar.

WhenShotosawthatI’dfinishedreading,heclosedthewindow.Ihesitatedamomentbeforeasking,“Areyousurehedidn’treallycommitsuicide?Becausehisavatarhadbeenkilled?”

“No,”Shotosaid.“Daitodidnotcommitseppuku.I’msureofit.TheSixersbrokeintohisapartmentwhilewewereengagedincombatwiththemonFrobozz.That’showtheywereabletodefeathisavatar.Bykillinghim,intherealworld.”

“I’msorry,Shoto.”Ididn’tknowwhatelsetosay.Iknewhewastellingthetruth.

“MyrealnameisAkihide,”hesaid.“Iwantyoutoknowmytruename.”

Ismiled,thenbowed,brieflypressingmyforeheadtothefloor.“Iappreciateyourtrustingmewithyourtruename,”Isaid.“MytruenameisWade.”Icouldnolongerseethepointinkeepingsecrets.

“Thankyou,Wade,”Shotosaid,returningthebow.

“You’rewelcome,Akihide.”

Hewassilentforamoment;thenheclearedhisthroatandbegantotalkaboutDaito.Thewordspouredoutofhim.Itwasobviousheneededtotalktosomeoneaboutwhathadhappened.Aboutwhathe’dlost.

“Daito’srealnamewasToshiroYoshiaki.Ididn’tevenknowthatuntillastnight,untilIsawthenewsarticle.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd242

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:243

“But...Ithoughtyouwerehisbrother?”I’dalwaysassumedthatDaitoandShotolivedtogether.Thattheysharedanapartmentorsomething.

“MyrelationshipwithDaitoisdifficulttoexplain.”Hestoppedtoclearhisthroat.“Wewerenotbrothers.Notinreallife.JustintheOASIS.Doyouunderstand?Weonlykneweachotheronline.Ineveractuallymethim.”Heslowlyraisedhiseyestomeetmygaze,toseeifIwasjudginghim.

Ireachedoutandrestedahandonhisshoulder.“Believeme,Shoto.

Iunderstand.AechandArt3misaremytwobestfriends,andI’venevermeteitheroftheminreallifeeither.Infact,youareoneofmyclosestfriendstoo.”

Hebowedhishead.“Thankyou.”Icouldtellbyhisvoicethathewascryingnow.

“We’regunters,”Isaid,tryingtofilltheawkwardsilence.“Welivehere,intheOASIS.Forus,thisistheonlyrealitythathasanymeaning.”

Akihidenodded.Afewmomentslaterhecontinuedtotalk.

HetoldmehowheandToshirohadmet,sixyearsago,whentheywerebothenrolledinanOASISsupportgroupforhikikomori,youngpeoplewhohadwithdrawnfromsocietyandchosentoliveintotalisolation.

Hikikomorilockedthemselvesinaroom,readmanga,andcruisedtheOASISallday,relyingontheirfamiliestobringthemfood.TherehadbeenhikikomoriinJapansincebackbeforetheturnofthecentury,buttheirnumberhadskyrocketedafterthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan.Millionsofyoung

menandwomenalloverthecountryhadlockedthemselvesawayfromtheworld.Theysometimescalledthesechildrenthe“missingmillions.”

AkihideandToshirobecamebestfriendsandspentalmosteverydayhangingouttogetherintheOASIS.WhenthehuntforHalliday’sEastereggbegan,they’dimmediatelydecidedtojoinforcesandsearchforittogether.Theymadeaperfectteam,becauseToshirowasaprodigyatvideogames,whilethemuchyoungerAkihidewaswellversedinAmericanpopculture.Akihide’sgrandmotherhadattendedschoolintheUnitedStates,andbothofhisparentshadbeenbornthere,soAkihidehadbeenraisedonAmericanmoviesandtelevision,andhe’dgrownuplearningtospeakEnglishandJapaneseequallywell.

AkihideandToshiro’smutualloveofsamuraimoviesservedastheinspirationfortheiravatars’namesandappearances.ShotoandDaitohadgrownsoclosethattheywerenowlikebrothers,sowhentheycre-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd243

5/24/112:06PM

244:ErnestCline

atedtheirnewgunteridentities,theydecidedthatintheOASIStheywerebrothers,fromthatmomenton.

AfterShotoandDaitoclearedtheFirstGateandbecamefamous,theygaveseveralinterviewswiththemedia.Theykepttheiridentitiesasecret,buttheydidrevealthattheywerebothJapanese,whichmadetheminstantcelebritiesinJapan.TheybegantoendorseJapaneseproductsandhadacartoonandalive-actionTVseriesbasedontheirexploits.Attheheightoftheirfame,ShotohadsuggestedtoDaitothatperhapsitwastimeforthemtomeetinperson.DaitohadflownintoarageandstoppedspeakingtoShotoforseveraldays.Afterthat,Shotohadneversuggesteditagain.

Eventually,ShotoworkedhiswayuptotellingmehowDaito’savatarhaddied.ThetwoofthemhadbeenaboardtheKurosawa,cruisingbetweenplanetsinSectorSeven,whentheScoreboardinformedthemthatAechhadobtainedtheJadeKey.Whenthathappened,theyknewtheSixerswoulduseFyndoro’s

TabletofFindingtopinpointAech’sexactlocationandthattheirshipswouldsoonbeconvergingonit.

Inpreparationforthis,DaitoandShotohadspentthepastfewweeksplantingmicroscopictrackingdevicesonthehullsofeverySixergunshiptheycouldfind.Usingthesedevices,theywereabletofollowthegunshipswhentheyallabruptlychangedcourseandheadedforFrobozz.

AssoonasShotoandDaitolearnedthatFrobozzwastheSixers’destination,they’deasilydecipheredthemeaningoftheQuatrain.AndbythetimetheyreachedFrobozz,justafewminuteslater,they’dalreadyfiguredoutwhattheyneededtodotoobtaintheJadeKey.

TheylandedtheKurosawanexttoaninstanceofthewhitehousethatwasstilldeserted.Shotoraninsidetocollectthenineteentreasuresandgetthekey,whileDaitoremainedoutsidetostandguard.Shotoworkedquickly,andheonlyhadtwotreasureslefttocollectwhenDaitoinformedhimbycomlinkthattenSixergunshipswereclosinginontheirlocation.HetoldhisbrothertohurryandpromisedtoholdofftheenemyuntilShotohadtheJadeKey.Neitherofthemknewifthey’dhaveanotherchancetoreachit.

AsShotoscrambledtogetthelasttwotreasuresandplacetheminthetrophycase,heremotelyactivatedoneoftheKurosawa’sexternalcamerasandusedittorecordashortvideoofDaito’sconfrontationwiththeapproachingSixers.Shotoopenedawindowandplayedthisvideoclipforme.Butheavertedhiseyesuntilitwasover.Heobviouslyhadnodesiretowatchitagain.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd244

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:245

Onthevidfeed,IsawDaitostandingaloneinthefieldbesidethewhitehouse.AsmallfleetofSixergunshipswasdescendingoutofthesky,andtheybegantofiretheirlasercannonsassoonastheywerewithinrange.AhailstormoffieryredboltsbegantoraindownallaroundDaito.Behindhim,inthedistance,IcouldseemoreSixergunshipssettingdown,andeachonewasoff-loadingsquadrons

ofpower-armoredgroundtroops.

Daitowassurrounded.

TheSixershadobviouslyspottedtheKurosawaduringitsdescenttotheplanet’ssurface,andthey’dmadekillingthetwosamuraiapriority.

Daitodidn’thesitatetousetheaceuphissleeve.HepulledouttheBetaCapsule,helditaloftinhisrighthand,andactivatedit.HisavatarinstantlychangedintoUltraman,aglowing-eyedred-and-silveraliensuperhero.Ashisavatartransformed,healsogrewtoaheightof156feet.

TheSixergroundforcesclosinginonhimfrozeintheirtracks,staringupinfrightenedaweasUltramanDaitosnatchedtwogunshipsoutoftheskyandsmashedthemtogether,likeagiantchildplayingwithtwotinymetaltoys.HedroppedtheflamingwreckagetothegroundandbegantoswatotherSixergunshipsoutoftheskylikebothersomeflies.Theshipsthatescapedhisdeadlygraspbankedaroundandsprayedhimwithlaserboltsandmachine-gunfire,butbothdeflectedharmlesslyoffhisarmoredalienskin.Daitoletoutaboominglaughthatechoedacrossthelandscape.Thenhemadeacrosswithhisarms,intersectingatthewrists.

Aglowingenergybeamblastedforthfromhishands,vaporizinghalfadozengunshipsunluckyenoughtoflythroughitspath.DaitoturnedandsweptthebeamovertheSixergroundforcesaroundhim,fryingthemliketerrifiedantsunderamagnifyingglass.

Daitoappearedtobeenjoyinghimselfimmensely.Somuchsothathepaidlittleattentiontothewarninglightembeddedinthecenterofhischest,whichhadnowbeguntoflashbrightred.ThiswasasignalthathisthreeminutesasUltramanhadnearlyelapsedandthathispowerwasalmostdepleted.ThistimelimitwasUltraman’sprimaryweakness.IfDaitofailedtodeactivatetheBetaCapsuleandreturntohumanformbeforehisthreeminuteswereup,hisavatarwoulddie.Butitwasobviousthatifhechangedbackintohishumanformrightnow,inthemiddleofthemassiveSixeronslaught,he’dbekilledinstantlytoo.AndShotowouldneverbeabletoreachtheship.

IcouldseetheSixertroopsaroundDaitoscreamingintotheircomlinksforbackup,andadditionalSixergunshipswerestillarrivinginClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd245

5/24/112:06PM

246:ErnestCline

droves.Daitowasblastingthemoutoftheskyoneatatime,withperfectlyaimedburstsofhisspeciumray.Andwitheachblasthefired,thewarninglightonhischestpulsedfaster.

ThenShotoemergedfromthewhitehouseandtoldhisbrotherviacomlinkthathe’dacquiredtheJadeKey.Inthatsameinstant,theSixergroundforcesspottedShoto,andsensingamucheasiertarget,theybegantoredirecttheirfireathisavatar.

ShotomadeamaddashfortheKurosawa.WhenheactivatedtheBootsofSpeedhewaswearing,hisavatarbecameabarelyvisibleblurracingacrosstheopenfield.AsShotoran,Daitorepositionedhisgiantformtoprovidehimwithasmuchcoveraspossible.Stillfiringenergyblasts,hewasabletokeeptheSixersatbay.

ThenDaito’svoicebrokeinonthecomlink.“Shoto!”heshouted.“Ithinksomeoneishere!Someoneisinside—”

Hisvoicecutoff.Atthesamemoment,hisavatarfroze,asifhe’dbeenturnedtostone,andalog-outiconappeareddirectlyoverhishead.

LoggingoutofyourOASISaccountwhileyouwereengagedincombatwasthesamethingascommittingsuicide.Duringthelog-outsequence,youravatarfrozeinplaceforsixtyseconds,duringwhichtimeyouweretotallydefenselessandsusceptibletoattack.Thelog-outsequencewasdesignedthiswaytopreventavatarsfromusingitasaneasywaytoescapeafight.Youhadtostandyourgroundorretreattoasafelocationbeforeyoucouldlogout.

Daito’slog-outsequencehadbeenengagedattheworstpossiblemoment.Assoonashisavatarfroze,hebegantotakeheavylaserandgunfirefromalldirections.Theredwarninglightonhischestbegantoflashfasterandfasteruntilitfinallywentsolidred.Whenthathappened,Daito’sgiantformfelloverandcollapsed.Ashefell,hebarelymissedcrushingShotoandtheKurosawa.Ashehittheground,hisavatar’sbodytransformedandshrankbacktoitsnormal

sizeandappearance.Thenitbegantodisappearaltogether,slowingfadingoutofexistence.WhenDaito’savatarvanishedcompletely,itleftbehindasmallpileofspinningitemsontheground—everythinghe’dbeencarryinginhisinventory,includingtheBetaCapsule.Hewasdead.

IsawanotherblurofmotiononthevidfeedasShotoranbacktocollectDaito’sitems.ThenheloopedaroundandranbackaboardtheKurosawa.

Theshipliftedoffandblastedintoorbit,takingheavyfiretheentireway.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd246

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:247

IwasremindedofmyowndesperateescapefromFrobozz.LuckilyforShoto,hisbrotherhadwipedoutmostoftheSixergunshipsinthevicinity,andreinforcementshadyettoarrive.

Shotowasabletoreachorbitandescapebymakingthejumptolightspeed.Butjustbarely.

ThevideoendedandShotoclosedthewindow.

“HowdoyouthinktheSixersfoundoutwherehelived?”Iasked.

“Idon’tknow,”Shotosaid.“Daitowascareful.Hecoveredhistracks.”

“Iftheyfoundhim,theymightbeabletofindyou,too,”Isaid.

“Iknow.I’vetakenprecautions.”

“Good.”

ShotoremovedtheBetaCapsulefromhisinventoryandhelditouttome.“Daitowouldhavewantedyoutohavethis.”

Iheldupahand.“No,Ithinkyoushouldkeepit.Youmightneedit.”

Shotoshookhishead.“Ihaveallofhisotheritems,”hesaid.“Idon’tneedthis.AndIdon’twantit.”Heheldthecapsuleouttome,insistent.

Itooktheartifactandexaminedit.Itwasasmallmetalcylinder,silverandblackincolor,witharedactivationbuttononitsside.ItssizeandshaperemindedmeofthelightsabersIowned.Butlightsaberswereadimeadozen.Ihadoverfiftyinmycollection.TherewasonlyoneBetaCapsule,anditwasafarmorepowerfulweapon.

Iraisedthecapsulewithbothhandsandbowed.“Thankyou,Shoto-san.”

“Thankyou,Parzival,”hesaid,returningthebow.“Thankyouforlistening.”Hestoodupslowly.Everythingabouthisbodylanguageseemedtosignaldefeat.

“Youhaven’tgivenupyet,haveyou?”Iasked.

“Ofcoursenot.”Hestraightenedhisbodyandgavemeadarksmile.

“Butfindingtheeggisnolongermygoal.Now,Ihaveanewquest.Afarmoreimportantone.”

“Andthatis?”

“Revenge.”

Inodded.ThenIwalkedoverandtookdownoneofthesamuraiswordsmountedonthewallandpresentedittoShoto.“Please,”Isaid.“Acceptthisgift.Toaidyouinyournewquest.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd247

5/24/112:06PM

248:ErnestCline

Shototooktheswordanddrewitsornatebladeafewinchesfromthescabbard.“AMasamune?”heasked,staringatthebladeinwonder.

Inodded.“Yes.Andit’saplus-fiveVorpalBlade,too.”

Shotobowedagaintoshowhisgratitude.“Arigato.”

Werodetheelevatorbackdowntomyhangarinsilence.Justbeforeheboardedhisship,Shototurnedtome.“HowlongdoyouthinkitwilltaketheSixerstocleartheThirdGate?”heasked.

“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“Hopefully,longenoughforustocatchupwiththem.”

“It’snotoveruntilthefatladyissinging,right?”

Inodded.“It’snotoveruntilit’sover.Andit’snotoveryet.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd248

5/24/112:06PM

Ifigureditoutlaterthatnight,afewhoursafterShotoleftmystronghold.

Iwassittinginmycommandcenter,holdingtheJadeKeyandendlesslyrecitingtheclueprintedonitssurface:“‘Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.’”

Inmyotherhand,Iheldthesilverfoilwrapper.MyeyesdartedfromthekeytothewrapperandbacktothekeyagainasItrieddesperatelytomaketheconnectionbetweenthem.I’dbeendoingthisforhours,anditwasn’tgettingmeanywhere.

Isighedandputthekeyaway,thenlaidthewrapperflatonthecontrolpanelinfrontofme.Icarefullysmoothedoutallofitsfoldsandwrinkles.

Thewrapperwassquareinshape,sixincheslongoneachedge.Silverfoilononeside,dullwhitepaperontheother.

Ipulledupsomeimage-analysissoftwareandmadeahigh-resolutionscanofbothsidesofthewrapper.ThenImagnifiedbothimagesonmydisplayandstudiedeverymicrometer.Icouldn’tfindanymarkingsorwritinganywhere,on

eithersideofthewrapper’ssurface.

Iwaseatingsomecornchipsatthetime,soIwasusingvoicecommandstooperatetheimage-analysissoftware.Iinstructedittodemag-nifythescanofthewrapperandcentertheimageonmydisplay.AsIdidthis,itremindedmeofasceneinBladeRunner,whereHarrisonFord’scharacter,Deckard,usesasimilarvoice-controlledscannertoanalyzeaphotograph.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd249

5/24/112:06PM

250:ErnestCline

Iheldupthewrapperandtookanotherlookatit.Asthevirtuallightreflectedoffitsfoilsurface,Ithoughtaboutfoldingthewrapperintoapaperairplaneandsailingitacrosstheroom.Thatmademethinkoforigami,whichremindedmeofanothermomentfromBladeRunner.Oneofthefinalscenesinthefilm.

Andthatwaswhenithitme.

“Theunicorn,”Iwhispered.

ThemomentIsaidtheword“unicorn”aloud,thewrapperbegantofoldonitsown,thereinthepalmofmyhand.Thesquarepieceoffoilbentitselfinhalfdiagonally,creatingasilvertriangle.Itcontinuedtobendandfolditselfintosmallertrianglesandevensmallerdiamondshapesuntilatlastitformedafour-leggedfigurethatthensproutedatail,ahead,andfinally,ahorn.

Thewrapperhadfoldeditselfintoasilverorigamiunicorn.OneofthemosticonicimagesfromBladeRunner.

IwasalreadyridingtheelevatordowntomyhangarandshoutingatMaxtopreptheVonnegutfortakeoff.

Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.

NowIknewexactlywhat“test”thatlinereferredto,andwhereIneededtogoto

takeit.Theorigamiunicornhadrevealedeverythingtome.

BladeRunnerwasreferencedinthetextofAnorak’sAlmanacnolessthanfourteentimes.IthadbeenoneofHalliday’stoptenall-timefavoritefilms.AndthefilmwasbasedonanovelbyPhilipK.Dick,oneofHalliday’sfavoriteauthors.Forthesereasons,I’dseenBladeRunneroverfourdozentimesandhadmemorizedeveryframeofthefilmandeverylineofdialogue.

AstheVonnegutstreakedthroughhyperspace,IpulledtheDirector’sCutofBladeRunnerupinawindowonmydisplay,thenjumpedaheadtoreviewtwoscenesinparticular.

Themovie,releasedin1982,issetinLosAngelesintheyear2019,inasprawling,hyper-technologicalfuturethathadnevercometopass.ThestoryfollowsaguynamedRickDeckard,playedbyHarrisonFord.Deckardworksasa“bladerunner,”aspecialtypeofcopwhohuntsdownandkillsreplicants—geneticallyengineeredbeingsthatarealmostindistin-guishablefromrealhumans.Infact,replicantslookandactsomuchlikeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd250

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:251

realhumansthattheonlywayabladerunnercanspotoneisbyusingapolygraph-likedevicecalledaVoight-Kampffmachinetotestthem.

Continueyourquestbytakingthetest.

Voight-Kampffmachinesappearinonlytwoscenesinthemovie.

BothofthosetakeplaceinsidetheTyrellBuilding,anenormousdouble-pyramidstructurethathousestheTyrellCorporation,thecompanythatmanufacturesthereplicants.

Re-creationsoftheTyrellBuildingwereamongthemostcommonstructuresin

theOASIS.Copiesofitexistedonhundredsofdifferentplanets,spreadthroughoutalltwenty-sevensectors.Thiswasbecausethecodeforthebuildingwasincludedasafreebuilt-intemplateintheOASIS

WorldBuilderconstructionsoftware(alongwithhundredsofotherstructuresborrowedfromvariousscience-fictionfilmsandtelevisionseries).

Soforthepasttwenty-fiveyears,wheneversomeoneusedtheWorldBuildersoftwaretocreateanewplanetinsidetheOASIS,theycouldjustselecttheTyrellBuildingfromadrop-downmenuandinsertacopyofitintotheirsimulationtohelpfillouttheskylineofwhateverfuturisticcityorlandscapetheywerecoding.Asaresult,someworldshadoveradozencopiesoftheTyrellBuildingscatteredacrosstheirsurfaces.Iwascurrentlyhaulingassatlightspeedtotheclosestsuchworld,acyberpunk-themedplanetinSectorTwenty-twocalledAxrenox.

Ifmysuspicionwascorrect,everycopyoftheTyrellBuildingonAxrenoxcontainedahiddenentranceintotheSecondGate,throughtheVoight-Kampffmachineslocatedinside.Iwasn’tworriedaboutrunningintotheSixers,becausetherewasnowaytheycouldhavebarricadedtheSecondGate.NotwiththousandsofcopiesoftheTyrellBuildingonhundredsofdifferentworlds.

OnceIreachedAxrenox,findingacopyoftheTyrellBuildingtookonlyafewminutes.Itwasprettyhardtomiss.Amassivepyramid-shapedstructurecoveringseveralsquarekilometersatitsbase,ittoweredabovemostofthestructuresadjacenttoit.

IzeroedinonthefirstinstanceofthebuildingIsawandheadedstraightforit.Myship’scloakingdevicewasalreadyengaged,andIleftitactivatedwhenIsettheVonnegutdownononeoftheTyrellBuilding’slandingpads.ThenIlockedtheshipandactivatedallofitssecuritysystems,hopingthey’dbeenoughtokeepitfromgettingstolenuntilIreturned.Magicdidn’tfunctionhere,soIcouldn’tjustshrinktheshipandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd251

5/24/112:06PM

252:ErnestCline

putitinmypocket,andleavingyourvesselparkedoutintheopenonacyberpunk-themedworldlikeAxrenoxwaslikeaskingforittogetrippedoff.TheVonnegutwouldbeatargetforthefirstleather-cladboostergangthatspottedit.

IpulledupamapoftheTyrellBuildingtemplate’slayoutandusedittolocatearoof-accesselevatorashortdistancefromtheplatformwhereI’dlanded.WhenIreachedtheelevator,Ipunchedinthedefaultsecuritycodeonthecodepadandcrossedmyfingers.Igotlucky.Theelevatordoorshissedopen.WhoeverhadcreatedthissectionoftheAxrenoxcityscapehadn’tbotheredtoresetthesecuritycodesinthetemplate.Itookthisasagoodsign.Itmeantthey’dprobablylefteverythingelseinthetemplateatthedefaultsettingtoo.

AsIrodetheelevatordowntothe440thfloor,Ipoweredonmyarmoranddrewmyguns.FivesecuritycheckpointsstoodbetweentheelevatorandtheroomIneededtoreach.Unlessthetemplatehadbeenaltered,fiftyNPCTyrellsecurityguardreplicantswouldbestandingbetweenmeandmydestination.

Theshootingstartedassoonastheelevatordoorsslidopen.IhadtokillsevenskinjobsbeforeIcouldevenmakeitoutoftheelevatorcarandintothehallway.

ThenexttenminutesplayedoutliketheclimaxofaJohnWoomovie.

OneoftheonesstarringChowYunFat,likeHardBoiledorTheKiller.

IswitchedbothofmygunstoautofireandhelddownthetriggersasImovedfromoneroomtothenext,mowingdowneveryNPCinmypath.

Theguardsreturnedfire,buttheirbulletspingedharmlesslyoffmyarmor.Ineverranoutofammo,becauseeachtimeIfiredaround,anewroundwasteleportedintothebottomoftheclip.

Mybulletbillthismonthwasgoingtobehuge.

WhenIfinallyreachedmydestination,Ipunchedinanothercodeandlockedthedoorbehindme.IknewIdidn’thavemuchtime.Klaxonswereblaringthroughoutthebuilding,andthethousandsofNPCguardsstationedonthefloorsbelowwereprobablyalreadyontheirwayupheretofindme.

MyfootstepsechoedasIenteredtheroom.Itwasdesertedexceptforalargeowl

sittingonagoldenperch.ItblinkedatmesilentlyasIcrossedtheenormouscathedral-likeroom,whichwasaperfectre-creationoftheofficeoftheTyrellCorporation’sfounder,EldonTyrell.Everydetailfromthefilmhadbeenduplicatedexactly.Polishedstonefloors.GiantmarbleClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd252

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:253

pillars.Theentirewestwallwasamassivefloor-to-ceilingwindowofferingabreathtakingviewofthevastcityscapeoutside.

Alongconferencetablestoodbesidethewindow.SittingontopofitwasaVoight-Kampffmachine.Itwasaboutthesizeofabriefcase,witharowofunlabeledbuttonsonthefront,nexttothreesmalldatamonitors.

WhenIwalkedupandsatdowninfrontofthemachine,itturneditselfon.Athinroboticarmextendedacirculardevicethatlookedlikearetinalscanner,whichlockedintoplacedirectlylevelwiththepupilofmyrighteye.Asmallbellowswasbuiltintothesideofthemachine,anditbegantoriseandfall,givingtheimpressionthatthedevicewasbreathing.

Iglancedaround,wonderingifanNPCofHarrisonFordwouldappear,toaskmethesamequestionsheaskedSeanYounginthemovie.I’dmemorizedallofheranswers,justincase.ButIwaitedafewsecondsandnothinghappened.Themachine’sbellowscontinuedtoriseandfall.Inthedistance,thesecurityklaxonscontinuedtowail.

ItookouttheJadeKey.TheinstantIdid,apanelslidopeninthesurfaceoftheVoight-Kampffmachine,revealingakeyhole.IquicklyinsertedtheJadeKeyandturnedit.Themachineandthekeybothvanished,andintheirplace,theSecondGateappeared.Itwasadoorlikeportalrestingontopofthepolishedconferencetable.Itsedgesglowedwiththesamemilkyjadecolorasthekey,andjustliketheFirstGate,itappearedtoleadintoavastfieldofstars.

Ileaptuponthetableandjumpedinside.

Ifoundmyselfstandingjustinsidetheentranceofaseedy-lookingbowlingalleywithdisco-eradecor.Thecarpetwasagarishpatternofgreenandbrownswirls,andthemoldedplasticchairswereafadedorangecolor.Thebowlinglaneswereallemptyandunlit.Theplacewasdeserted.

Thereweren’tevenanyNPCsbehindthefrontcounterorthesnackbar.

Iwasn’tsurewhereIwassupposedtobeuntilIsawmiddletownlanesprintedinhugelettersonthewallabovethebowlinglanes.

Atfirst,theonlysoundIheardwasthelowhumofthefluorescentlightsoverhead.ButthenInoticedaseriesoffaintelectronicchirpsema-natingfromofftomyleft.Iglancedinthatdirectionandsawadarkenedalcovejustbeyondthesnackbar.Overthiscavelikeentrancewasasign.

Eightbrightredneonlettersspelledoutthewordsgameroom.

Therewasaviolentrushofwind,andtheroarofwhatsoundedlikeaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd253

5/24/112:06PM

254:ErnestCline

hurricanetearingthroughthebowlingalley.Myfeetbegantoslideacrossthecarpet,andIrealizedthatmyavatarwasbeingpulledtowardthegameroom,asifablackholehadopenedupsomewhereinthere.

Asthevacuumyankedmethroughthegameroomentrance,Ispottedadozenvideogamesinside,allfromthemid-tolate’80s.CrimeFighters,HeavyBarrel,Vigilante,SmashTV.ButIcouldnowseethatmyavatarwasbeingdrawntowardonegameinparticular,agamethatstoodaloneattheverybackofthegameroom.

BlackTiger.Capcom,1987.

Aswirlingvortexhadopenedinthecenterofthegame’smonitor,anditwassuckinginbitsoftrash,papercups,bowlingshoes—everythingthatwasn’tnaileddown.Includingme.Asmyavatarnearedit,IreflexivelyreachedoutandgrabbedthejoystickofaTimePilotmachine.Myfeetwereinstantlyliftedoffthefloorasthevortexcontinuedtopullmyavatarinexorablytowardit.

Atthispoint,Iwasactuallygrinninginanticipation.Iwasallpreparedtopatmyselfontheback,becauseI’dmasteredBlackTigerlongago,duringthefirstyearoftheHunt.

Intheyearspriortohisdeath,whenHallidayhadbeenlivinginseclusion,theonlythinghe’dpostedonhiswebsitewasabriefloopinganimation.Itshowedhisavatar,Anorak,sittinginhiscastle’slibrary,mixingpotionsandporingoverdustyspellbooks.Thisanimationhadrunonacontinuousloopforoveradecade,untilitwasfinallyreplacedbytheScoreboardonthemorningHallidaydied.Inthatanimation,hangingonthewallbehindAnorak,youcouldseealargepaintingofablackdragon.

Guntershadfilledcountlessmessageboardthreadsarguingaboutthemeaningofthepainting,aboutwhattheblackdragonsignifiedorwhetheritsignifiedanythingatall.ButI’dbeensureofitsmeaningfromthestart.

InoneoftheearliestjournalentriesinAnorak’sAlmanac,Hallidaywrotethatwheneverhisparentswouldstartscreamingateachother,hewouldsneakoutofthehouseandridehisbiketothelocalbowlingalleytoplayBlackTiger,becauseitwasagamehecouldbeatonjustonequarter.AA23:234:“Foronequarter,BlackTigerletsmeescapefrommyrot-tenexistenceforthreeglorioushours.Prettygooddeal.”

BlackTigerhadfirstbeenreleasedinJapanunderitsoriginaltitleBurakkuDoragon.BlackDragon.ThegamehadbeenrenamedforitsClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd254

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:255

Americanrelease.I’ddeducedthattheblackdragonpaintingonthewallof

Anorak’sstudyhadbeenasubtlehintthatBurakkuDoragonwouldplayakeyroleintheHunt.SoI’dstudiedthegameuntil,likeHalliday,Icouldreachtheendonjustonecredit.Afterthat,Icontinuedtoplayiteveryfewmonths,justtokeepfromgettingrusty.

Now,itlookedasifmyforesightanddiligencewereabouttopayoff.

IwasonlyabletoholdontotheTimePilotjoystickforafewseconds.

ThenIlostmygripandmyavatarwassuckeddirectlyintotheBlackTigergame’smonitor.

Everythingwentblackforamoment.ThenIfoundmyselfinsurrealsurroundings.

Iwasnowstandinginsideanarrowdungeoncorridor.Onmyleftwasahighgraycobblestonewallwithamammothdragonskullmountedonit.Thewallstretchedupandup,vanishingintotheshadowsabove.Icouldn’tmakeoutanyceiling.Thedungeonfloorwascomposedoffloatingcircularplatformsarrangedendtoendinalonglinethatstretchedoutintothedarknessahead.Tomyright,beyondtheplatforms’edge,therewasnothing—justanendless,emptyblackvoid.

Iturnedaround,buttherewasnoexitbehindme.Justanotherhighcobblestonewall,stretchingupintotheinfiniteblacknessoverhead.

Ilookeddownatmyavatar’sbody.InowlookedexactlyliketheheroofBlackTiger—amuscular,half-nakedbarbarianwarriordressedinanarmoredthongandahornedhelmet.Myrightarmdisappearedinastrangemetalgauntlet,fromwhichhungalongretractablechainwithaspikedmetalballontheend.Myrighthanddeftlyheldthreethrowingdaggers.

WhenIhurledthemoffintheblackvoidatmyright,threemoreidenticaldaggersinstantlyappearedinmyhand.WhenItriedjumping,IdiscoveredthatIcouldleapthirtyfeetstraightupandlandbackonmyfeetwithcatlikegrace.

NowIunderstood.IwasabouttoplayBlackTiger,allright.Butnotthefifty-year-old,2-D,side-scrollingplatformgamethatIhadmastered.

Iwasnowstandinginsideanew,immersive,three-dimensionalversionofthe

gamethatHallidayhadcreated.

Myknowledgeoftheoriginalgame’smechanics,levels,andenemieswoulddefinitelycomeinhandy,butthegameplaywasgoingtobecompletelydifferent,anditwouldrequireanentirelydifferentsetofskills.

TheFirstGatehadplacedmeinsideoneofHalliday’sfavoritemovies,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd255

5/24/112:06PM

256:ErnestCline

andnowtheSecondGatehadputmeinsideoneofhisfavoritevideogames.WhileIwasponderingtheimplicationofthispattern,amessagebegantoflashonmydisplay:go!

Ilookedaround.Anarrowetchedintothestonewallonmyleftpointedthewayforward.Istretchedmyarmsandlegs,crackedmyknuckles,andtookadeepbreath.Then,readyingmyweapons,Iranforward,leapingfromplatformtoplatform,toconfrontthefirstofmyadversaries.

Hallidayhadfaithfullyre-createdeverydetailofBlackTiger’seight-leveldungeon.

IgotofftoaroughstartandlostalifebeforeIevenclearedthefirstboss.ButthenIbegantoacclimatetoplayingthegameinthreedimensions(andfromafirst-personperspective).Eventually,Ifoundmygroove.

Ipressedonward,leapingfromplatformtoplatform,attackinginmidair,dodgingtherelentlessonslaughtofblobs,skeletons,snakes,mummies,minotaurs,andyes,ninjas.EachenemyIvanquisheddroppedapileof“Zennycoins”thatIcouldlaterusetopurchasearmor,weapons,andpotionsfromoneofthebeardedwisemenscatteredthroughouteachlevel.(These“wisemen”apparentlythoughtsettingupasmallshopinthemiddleofamonster-infesteddungeonwasafineidea.)Therewerenotime-outs,andnowayformetopause

thegame.Onceyouenteredagate,youcouldn’tjuststopandlogout.Thesystemwouldn’tallowit.Evenifyouremovedyourvisor,youwouldremainloggedin.Theonlywayoutofagatewastogothroughit.Ordie.

Imanagedtoclearalleightlevelsofthegameinjustunderthreehours.

TheclosestIcametodeathwasduringmybattlewiththefinalboss,theBlackDragon,who,ofcourse,lookedexactlylikethebeastdepictedinthepaintinginAnorak’sstudy.I’dusedupallofmyextralives,andmyvital-itybarwasalmostatzero,butImanagedtokeepmovingandstayclearofthedragon’sfierybreathwhileIslowlyknockeddownhislifemeterwithasteadybarrageofthrowingdaggers.WhenIstruckthefinalkillingblow,thedragoncrumbledintodigitaldustinfrontofme.

Iletoutalong,exhaustedsighofrelief.

Then,withnotransitionwhatsoever,Ifoundmyselfbackinthebowlingalleygameroom,standinginfrontoftheBlackTigergame.Infrontofme,onthegame’smonitor,myarmoredbarbarianwasstrikingaheroicpose.Thefollowingtextappearedbelowhim:Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd256

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:257

YOUHAVERETURNEDPEACEANDPROSPERITYTOOURNATION.

THANKYOU,BLACKTIGER!

CONGRATULATIONSONYOURSTRENGTHANDWISDOM!

Thensomethingstrangehappened—somethingthathadneverhappenedwhenI’dbeatentheoriginalgame.Oneofthe“wisemen”fromthedungeonappearedonthescreen,withaspeechballoonthatsaid,“Thankyou.Iamindebtedtoyou.Pleaseacceptagiantrobotasyourreward.”

Alongrowofroboticonsappearedbelowthewiseman,stretchingacrossthescreenhorizontally.Bymovingthejoystickleftorright,IfoundthatIwasable

toscrollthroughaselectionofoverahundreddifferent

“giantrobots.”Whenoneoftheserobotswashighlighted,adetailedlistofitsstatsandweaponryappearedonthescreenbesideit.

TherewereseveralrobotsIdidn’trecognize,butmostwerefamiliar.IspottedGigantor,TranzorZ,theIronGiant,JetJaguar,thesphinx-headedGiantRobofromJohnnySokkoandHisFlyingRobot,theentireShogunWarriorstoyline,andmanyofthemechsfeaturedinboththeMacrossandGundamanimeseries.Elevenoftheseiconsweregrayedoutandhadared“X”overthem,andtheserobotscouldnotbeidentifiedorselected.

IknewtheymustbetheonestakenbySorrentoandtheotherSixerswhohadclearedthisgatebeforeme.

ItseemedpossiblethatIwasabouttobeawardedareal,workingrecreationofwhicheverrobotIselected,soIstudiedmyoptionscarefully,searchingfortheoneIthoughtwouldbethemostpowerfulandwellarmed.ButIstoppedcoldwhenIsawLeopardon,thegianttransformingrobotusedbySupaidaman,theincarnationofSpider-ManwhoappearedonJapaneseTVinthelate1970s.I’ddiscoveredSupaidamanduringthecourseofmyresearchandhadbecomesomewhatobsessedwiththeshow.

SoIdidn’tcareifLeopardonwasthemostpowerfulrobotavailable.Ihadtohavehim,regardless.

IhighlightedthaticonandtappedtheFirebutton.Atwelve-inch-tallreplicaofLeopardonappearedontopoftheBlackTigercabinet.Igrabbeditandplaceditinmyinventory.Therewerenoinstructions,andtheitemdescriptionfieldwasblank.Imadeamentalnotetoexamineitlater,whenIgotbacktomystronghold.

Meanwhile,ontheBlackTigermonitor,theendcreditshadbeguntoscrolloveranimageofthegame’sbarbarianherosittingonathronewithaslenderprincessathisside.Irespectfullyreadeachoftheprogrammers’

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd257

5/24/112:06PM

258:ErnestCline

names.TheywereallJapanese,exceptfortheverylastcredit,whichreadoasisportbyj.d.halliday.

Whenthecreditsended,themonitorwentdarkforamoment.Thenasymbolslowlyappearedinthecenterofthescreen:aglowingredcirclewithafive-pointedstarinsideit.Thepointsofthestarextendedjustbeyondtheouteredgeofthecircle.Asecondlater,animageoftheCrystalKeyappeared,spinningslowlyinthecenteroftheglowingredstar.

Ifeltarushofadrenaline,becauseIrecognizedtheredstarsymbol,andIknewwhereitwasmeanttoleadme.

Isnappedseveralscreenshots,justtobesafe.Amomentlater,themonitorwentdark,andtheBlackTigergamecabinetmeltedandmorphedintoadoor-shapedportalwithglowingjadeedges.Theexit.

Iletoutatriumphantcheerandjumpedthroughit.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd258

5/24/112:06PM

WhenIemergedfromthegate,myavatarreappearedbackinsideTyrell’soffice.TheVoight-Kampffmachinehadreappearedinitsoriginallocation,restingonthetablebesideme.Icheckedthetime.OverthreehourshadpassedsinceI’dfirstenteredthegate.Theroomwasdeserted,savefortheowl,andthesecurityklaxonswerenolongerwailing.

TheNPCguardsmusthavebustedinandsearchedthisareawhileIwasstillinsidethegate,becausetheynolongerappearedtobelookingforme.

Thecoastwasclear.

Imademywaybacktotheelevatoranduptothelandingplatformwithoutincident.AndthanksbetoCrom,theVonnegutwasstillparkedrightwhereI’dleftit,itscloakingdevicestillengaged.IranonboardandleftAxrenox,jumpingtolightspeedassoonasIreachedorbit.

AstheVonnegutstreakedthroughhyperspace,headedfortheneareststargate,IpulleduponeofthescreenshotsI’dtakenoftheredstarsymbol.ThenIopenedmygraildiaryandaccessedthesubfolderdevotedtothelegendaryCanadianrockbandRush.

RushhadbeenHalliday’sfavoriteband,fromhisteensonward.He’doncerevealedinaninterviewthathe’dcodedeverysingleoneofhisvideogames(includingtheOASIS)whilelisteningexclusivelytoRushalbums.

HeoftenreferredtoRush’sthreemembers—NeilPeart,AlexLifeson,andGeddyLee—as“theHolyTrinity”or“theGodsoftheNorth.”

Inmygraildiary,IhadeverysingleRushsong,album,bootleg,andmusicvideoevermade.Ihadhigh-resscansofalltheirlinernotesandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd259

5/24/112:06PM

260:ErnestCline

albumartwork.EveryframeofRushconcertfootageinexistence.Everyradioandtelevisioninterviewthebandhadeverdone.Unabridgedbiographiesoneachbandmember,alongwithcopiesoftheirsideprojectsandsolowork.Ipulleduptheband’sdiscographyandselectedthealbumIwaslookingfor:2112,Rush’sclassicsci-fi–themedconceptalbum.

Ahigh-resolutionscanofthealbum’scoverappearedonmydisplay.

Theband’snameandthealbum’stitlewereprintedoverafieldofstars,andbelowthat,appearingasifreflectedinthesurfaceofaripplinglake,wasthesymbolI’dseenontheBlackTigergame’smonitor:aredfive-pointedstarenclosedinacircle.

WhenIplacedthealbumcoversidebysidewiththescreenshotofthegamescreen,thetwosymbolsmatchedexactly.

2112’stitletrackisanepicseven-partsong,overtwentyminutesinlength.Thesongtellsthestoryofananonymousrebellivingintheyear2112,atimewhencreativityandself-expressionhavebeenoutlawed.Theredstaronthealbum’scoverwasthesymboloftheSolarFederation,theoppressiveinterstellarsocietyinthestory.TheSolarFederationwascontrolledbyagroupof“priests,”whoaredescribedinPartIIofthesong,titled“TheTemplesofSyrinx.”ItslyricstoldmeexactlywheretheCrystalKeywashidden:

WearethePriestsoftheTemplesofSyrinx

Ourgreatcomputersfillthehallowedhalls.

WearethePriestsoftheTemplesofSyrinx

Allthegiftsoflifeareheldwithinourwalls.

TherewasaplanetinSectorTwenty-onenamedSyrinx.ThatwaswhereIwasheadednow.

TheOASISatlasdescribedSyrinxas“adesolateworldwithrockyterrainandnoNPCinhabitants.”WhenIaccessedtheplanet’scolophon,IsawthatSyrinx’sauthorwaslistedas“Anonymous.”ButIknewtheplanetmusthavebeencodedbyHalliday,becauseitsdesignmatchedtheworlddescribedin2112’slinernotes.

2112wasoriginallyreleasedin1976,backwhenmostmusicwassoldontwelve-inchvinylrecords.Therecordscameincardboardsleeveswithartworkandatracklistingprintedonthem.Somealbumsleevesopeneduplikeabookandincludedmoreartworkandlinernotesinside,alongwithlyricsandinformationabouttheband.AsIpulledupascanof2112’sClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd260

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:261

originalfold-outalbumsleeve,Isawthattherewasasecondimageoftheredstarsymbolontheinside.Thisonedepictedanakedmancoweringinfrontofthestar,bothhishandsraisedinfear.

Ontheoppositesideoftherecordsleeveweretheprintedlyricstoallsevenpartsofthe2112suite.Thelyricsforeachsectionwereprecededbyaparagraphofprosethataugmentedthenarrativelaidoutinthelyrics.

Thesebriefvignettesweretoldfromthepointofviewof2112’sanonymousprotagonist.

ThefollowingtextprecededthelyricstoPartI:Ilieawake,staringoutatthebleaknessofMegadon.Cityandskybecomeone,mergingintoasingleplane,avastseaofunbrokengrey.TheTwinMoons,justtwopaleorbsastheytracetheirwayacrossthesteelysky.

WhenmyshipreachedSyrinx,Isawthetwinmoons,By-TorandSnowDog,thatorbitedtheplanet.TheirnamesweretakenfromanotherclassicRushsong.Anddownbelow,ontheplanet’sbleakgraysurface,therewereexactly1,024copiesofMegadon,thedomedcitydescribedinthelinernotes.ThatwastwicethenumberofZorkinstancesthere’dbeenonFrobozz,soIknewtheSixerscouldn’tbarricadethemall.

Withmycloakingdeviceengaged,IselectedthenearestinstanceofthecityandlandedtheVonnegutjustoutsidethewallofitsdome,watchingmyscopesforotherships.

Megadonwasanchoredatoparockyplateau,ontheedgeofanimmensecliff.Thecityappearedtobeinruins.Itsmassivetransparentdomewasriddledwithcracksandlookedasthoughitmightcollapseatanymoment.Iwasabletoenterthecitybysqueezingthroughoneofthelargestofthesecracks,atthebaseofthedome.

ThecityofMegadonremindedmeofanold1950ssci-fipaperbackcoverpaintingdepictingthecrumblingruinsofaonce-greattechnologicallyadvancedcivilization.IntheabsolutecenterofthecityIfoundatoweringobelisk-shapedtemplewithwind-blastedgraywalls.AgiantredstaroftheSolarFederationwasemblazonedabovetheentrance.

IwasstandingbeforetheTempleofSyrinx.

Itwasn’tcoveredbyaforcefield,orsurroundedbyadetachmentofSixers.Therewasn’tasoulinsight.

Idrewmygunsandwalkedthroughtheentranceofthetemple.

Inside,mammothobelisk-shapedsupercomputersstoodinlongrows,fillingthegiant,cathedral-liketemple.Iwanderedalongtheserows,lis-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd261

5/24/112:06PM

262:ErnestCline

teningtothedeephumofthemachines,untilIfinallyreachedthecenterofthetemple.

There,Ifoundaraisedstonealtarwiththefive-pointedredstaretchedintoitssurface.AsIsteppeduptothealtar,thehummingofthecomputersceased,andthechambergrewsilent.

ItappearedIwassupposedtoplacesomethingonthealtar,anofferingtotheTempleofSyrinx.Butwhatkindofoffering?

Thetwelve-inchLeopardonrobotI’dacquiredaftercompletingtheSecondGatedidn’tseemtofit.Itriedplacingitonthealtaranywayandnothinghappened.Iplacedtherobotbackinmyinventoryandstoodthereforamoment,thinking.ThenIrememberedsomethingelsefromthe2112linernotes.Ipulledthemupandscannedoverthemagain.Therewasmyanswer,inthetextthatprecededPartIII—“Discovery”:Behindmybelovedwaterfall,inthelittleroomthatwashiddenbeneaththecave,Ifoundit.Ibrushedawaythedustoftheyears,andpickeditup,holdingitreverentlyinmyhands.Ihadnoideawhatitmightbe,butitwasbeautiful.Ilearnedtolaymyfingersacrossthewires,andtoturnthekeystomakethemsounddifferently.AsIstruckthewireswithmyotherhand,Iproducedmyfirstharmonioussounds,andsoonmyownmusic!

Ifoundthewaterfallnearthesouthernedgeofthecity,justinsidethecurvedwalloftheatmosphericdome.AssoonasIfoundit,Iactivatedmyjetbootsandflewoverthefoamingriverbelowthefalls,thenpassedthroughthewaterfall

itself.Myhapticsuitdiditsbesttosimulatethesensationoftorrentsoffallingwaterstrikingmybody,butitfeltmorelikesomeonepoundingonmyhead,shoulders,andbackwithabundleofsticks.OnceI’dpassedthroughthefallstotheotherside,Ifoundtheopeningofacaveandwentinside.Thecavenarrowedintoalongtunnel,whichterminatedinasmall,cavernousroom.

Isearchedtheroomanddiscoveredthatoneofthestalagmitesprotrudingfromthefloorwasslightlywornaroundthetip.Igrabbedthestalagmiteandpulledittowardme,butitdidn’tbudge.Itriedpushing,anditgave,bendingasifonsomehiddenhinge,likealever.Iheardarumbleofgrindingstonebehindme,andIturnedtoseeatrapdooropeninginthefloor.Aholehadalsoopenedintheroofofthecave,castingabrilliantshaftoflightdownthroughtheopentrapdoor,intoatinyhiddenchamberbelow.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd262

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:263

Itookanitemoutofmyinventory,awandthatcoulddetecthiddentraps,magicalorotherwise.Iusedittomakesuretheareawasclear,thenjumpeddownthroughthetrapdoorandlandedonthedustyfloorofthehiddenchamber.Itwasatinycube-shapedroomwithalargerough-hewnstonestandingagainstthenorthwall.Embeddedinthestone,neckfirst,wasanelectricguitar.Irecognizeditsdesignfromthe2112concertfootageI’dwatchedduringthetriphere.Itwasa1974GibsonLesPaul,theexactguitarusedbyAlexLifesonduringthe2112tour.

IgrinnedattheabsurdArthurianimageoftheguitarinthestone.Likeeverygunter,I’dseenJohnBoorman’sfilmExcaliburmanytimes,soitseemedobviouswhatIshoulddonext.Ireachedoutwithmyrighthand,graspedtheneckoftheguitar,andpulled.Theguitarcamefreeofthestonewithaprolongedmetallicshhingggg!

AsIheldtheguitarovermyhead,themetallicringingseguedintoaguitarpowerchordthatechoedthroughoutthecave.Istareddownattheguitar,abouttoactivatemyjetbootsagain,toflybackupthroughthetrapdoorandoutofthe

cave.ButthenanideaoccurredtomeandIfroze.

JamesHallidayhadtakenguitarlessonsforafewyearsinhighschool.

Thatwaswhathadfirstinspiredmetolearntoplay.I’dneverheldanactualguitar,butonavirtualaxe,Icouldtotallyshred.

Isearchedmyinventoryandfoundaguitarpick.ThenIopenedmygraildiaryandpulledupthesheetmusicfor2112,alongwiththeguitartablatureforthesong“Discovery,”whichdescribesthehero’sdiscoveryoftheguitarinaroomhiddenbehindawaterfall.AsIbegantoplaythesong,thesoundoftheguitarblastedoffthechamberwallsandbackoutthroughthecave,despitetheabsenceofanyelectricityoramplifiers.

WhenIfinishedplayingthefirstmeasureof“Discovery,”amessagebrieflyappeared,carvedintothestonefromwhichI’dpulledtheguitar.

Thefirstwasringedinredmetal

Thesecond,ingreenstone

Thethirdisclearestcrystal

andcannotbeunlockedalone

Inseconds,thewordsbegantovanish,fadingfromthestonealongwiththestrainsofthelastnoteI’dplayedontheguitar.Iquicklysnappedascreenshotoftheriddle,alreadytryingtosortoutitsmeaning.ItwasabouttheThirdGate,ofcourse.Andhowitcouldnot“beunlockedalone.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd263

5/24/112:06PM

264:ErnestCline

HadtheSixersplayedthesonganddiscoveredthismessage?Iseriouslydoubtedit.Theywouldhavepulledtheguitarfromthestoneandimmediatelyreturnedittothetemple.

Ifso,theyprobablydidn’tknowtherewassomesortoftricktounlockingtheThirdGate.Andthatwouldexplainwhytheystillhadn’treachedtheegg.

Ireturnedtothetempleandplacedtheguitaronthealtar.AsIdid,thetoweringcomputersaroundmebegantoemitacacophonyofsound,likeagrandorchestratuningup.Thenoisebuilttoadeafeningcrescendobeforeceasingabruptly.Thentherewasaflashoflightonthealtar,andtheguitartransformedintotheCrystalKey.

WhenIreachedoutandpickedupthekey,achimesounded,andmyscoreontheScoreboardincreasedby25,000points.Whenaddedtothe200,000I’dreceivedforclearingtheSecondGate,thatbroughtmytotalscoreupto353,000points,onethousandpointsmorethanSorrento.Iwasbackinfirstplace.

ButIknewthiswasnotimetocelebrate.IquicklyexaminedtheCrystalKey,tiltingituptostudyitsglittering,facetedsurface.Ididn’tseeanywordsetchedthere,butIdidfindasmallmonogrametchedinthecenterofthekey’scrystal

handle,asinglecalligraphicletter“A”thatIrecognizedimmediately.

Thatsameletter“A”appearedintheCharacterSymbolboxonJamesHalliday’sfirstDungeons&Dragonscharactersheet.TheverysamemonogramalsoappearedonthedarkrobesofhisfamousOASISavatar,Anorak.And,Iknew,thatsameemblematicletteradornedthefrontgatesofCastleAnorak,hisavatar’simpregnablestronghold.

InthefirstfewyearsoftheHunt,guntershadswarmedlikehungryinsectstoanyOASISlocationthatseemedlikeapossiblehidingplaceforthethreekeys,specificallyplanetsoriginallycodedbyHallidayhimself.

ChiefamongthesewastheplanetChthonia,apainstakingre-creationofthefantasyworldHallidayhadcreatedforhishigh-schoolDungeons&

Dragonscampaign,andalsothesettingofmanyofhisearlyvideogames.

Chthoniahadbecomethegunters’Mecca.Likeeveryoneelse,I’dfeltob-ligatedtomakeapilgrimagethere,tovisitCastleAnorak.Butthecastlewasimpregnableandalwayshadbeen.NoavatarbutAnorakhimselfhadeverbeenabletopassthroughitsentrance.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd264

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:265

ButnowIknewtheremustbeawaytoenterCastleAnorak.BecausetheThirdGatewashiddensomewhereinside.

WhenIgotbacktomyship,IblastedoffandsetacourseforChthoniainSectorTen.ThenIbegantoscanthenewsfeeds,intendingtocheckoutthemediafrenzymyreturntofirstplacewasgenerating.Butmyscorewasn’tthetopstory.No,thebignewsthatafternoonwasthatthehidingplaceofHalliday’sEasteregghad,atlonglast,finallybeenrevealedtotheworld.Itwas,thenews

anchorssaid,locatedsomewhereontheplanetChthonia,insideCastleAnorak.TheyknewthisbecausetheentireSixerarmywasnowencampedaroundthecastle.

They’darrivedearlierthatday,shortlyafterI’dclearedtheSecondGate.

Iknewthetimingcouldn’tbeacoincidence.MyprogressmusthavepromptedtheSixerstoendtheircovertattemptstocleartheThirdGateandmakeitslocationpublicbybarricadingitbeforeIoranyoneelsecouldreachit.

WhenIarrivedatChthoniaafewminuteslater,Ididacloakedflybyofthecastle,justtogaugethelayofthelandformyself.ItwasevenworsethanI’dimagined.

TheSixershadinstalledsometypeofmagicalshieldoverCastleAnorak,asemitransparentdomethatcompletelycoveredthecastleandtheareaaroundit.EncampedinsidetheshieldwallwastheentireSixerarmy.

Avastcollectionoftroops,tanks,weapons,andvehiclessurroundedthecastleonallsides.

Severalgunterclanswerealreadyonthescene,andtheyweremakingtheirfirstattemptstobringdowntheshieldbylaunchinghigh-yieldnukesatit.Eachdetonationwasfollowedbyabriefatomiclightshow,andthentheblastwoulddissipateharmlesslyagainsttheshield.

TheattacksontheshieldcontinuedforthenextfewhoursasthenewsspreadandmoreandmoreguntersarrivedonChthonia.Theclanslaunchedeverytypeofweapontheycouldthinkofattheshield,butnothingaffectedit.Notnukes,notfireballs,andnotmagicmissiles.Eventually,ateamofgunterstriedtodigatunnelunderthedomewall,andthatwaswhenitwasdiscoveredthattheshieldwasactuallyacompletespheresurroundingthecastle,above-andbelowground.

Laterthatnight,severalhigh-levelgunterwizardsfinishedcastingaClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd265

5/24/112:06PM

266:ErnestCline

seriesofdivinationspellsonthecastleandannouncedonthemessageboardsthattheshieldaroundthecastlewasgeneratedbyapowerfulartifactcalledtheOrbofOsuvox,whichcouldonlybeoperatedbyawizardwhowasninety-ninthlevel.Accordingtotheartifact’sitemdescription,itcouldcreateasphericalshieldarounditself,withacircumferenceofuptohalfakilometer.Thisshieldwasimpenetrableandindestructibleandcouldvaporizejustaboutanythingthattouchedit.Itcouldalsobekeptupindefinitely,aslongasthewizardoperatingtheorbremainedimmo-bileandkeptbothhandsontheartifact.

Inthedaysthatfollowed,gunterstriedeverythingtheycouldthinkoftopenetratetheshield.Magic.Technology.Teleportation.Counterspells.

Otherartifacts.Nothingworked.Therewasnowaytogetinside.

Anairofhopelessnessquicklysweptthroughtheguntercommunity.

Solosandclansmenalikewerereadytothrowinthetowel.TheSixershadtheCrystalKeyandexclusiveaccesstotheThirdGate.EveryoneagreedthatTheEndwasnear,thattheHuntwas“alloverbutthecrying.”

Duringallofthesedevelopments,Isomehowmanagedtokeepmycool.TherewasachancetheSixershadn’tevenfiguredouthowtoopentheThirdGateyet.Ofcourse,theyhadplentyoftimenow.Theycouldbeslowandmethodical.Soonerorlater,theywouldstumbleonthesolution.

ButIrefusedtogiveup.UntilanavatarreachedHalliday’sEasteregg,anythingwasstillpossible.

Likeanyclassicvideogame,theHunthadsimplyreachedanew,moredifficultlevel.Anewleveloftenrequiredanentirelynewstrategy.

Ibegantoformulateaplan.Abold,outrageousplanthatwouldrequireepicamountsoflucktopulloff.Isetthisplaninmotionbye-mailingArt3mis,Aech,andShoto.MymessagetoldthemexactlywheretofindtheSecondGateandhowtoobtaintheCrystalKey.OnceIwassureallthreeofthemhadreceivedmymessage,Iinitiatedthenextphaseofmyplan.Thiswasthepartthatterrifiedme,becauseIknewtherewasagoodchanceitwasgoingtoendupgettingmekilled.Butatthispoint,Inolongercared.

IwasgoingtoreachtheThirdGate,ordietrying.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd266

5/24/112:06PM

LevelThree

Goingoutsideishighlyoverrated.

—Anorak’sAlmanac,Chapter17,Verse32

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd267

5/24/112:06PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd268

5/24/112:06PM

WhentheIOIcorporatepolicecametoarrestme,IwasrightinthemiddleofthemovieExplorers(1985,directedbyJoeDante).It’saboutthreekidswhobuildaspaceshipintheirbackyardandthenflyofftomeetaliens.Easilyoneofthegreatestkidflicksevermade.I’dgottenintothehabitofwatchingitatleastonceamonth.Itkeptmecentered.

Ihadathumbnailofmyapartmentbuilding’sexternalsecuritycamerafeedattheedgeofmydisplay,soIsawtheIOIIndenturedServantRetrievalTransportpullupoutfront,sirenwailingandlightsflashing.

Thenfourjackbooted,riot-helmeteddropcopsjumpedoutandranintothebuilding,followedbyaguyinasuit.IcontinuedtowatchthemonthelobbycameraastheywavedtheirIOIbadges,blewpastthesecuritystation,andfiled

ontotheelevator.

Nowtheywereontheirwayuptomyfloor.

“Max,”Imuttered,notingthefearinmyownvoice.“Executesecuritymacronumberone:Crom,stronginhismountain.”Thisvoicecommandinstructedmycomputertoexecutealongseriesofpreprogrammedactions,bothonlineandintherealworld.

“Youg-g-gotit,Chief!”Maxrepliedcheerfully,andasplitsecondlater,myapartment’ssecuritysystemswitchedintolockdownmode.Myreinforcedplate-titaniumWarDoorswungdownfromtheceiling,slammingandlockingintoplaceovermyapartment’sbuilt-insecuritydoor.

Onthesecuritycameramountedinthehallwayoutsidemyapartment,Iwatchedthefourdropcopsgetofftheelevatorandsprintdownthehall-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd269

5/24/112:06PM

270:ErnestCline

waytomydoor.Thetwoguysinfrontwerecarryingplasmawelders.

Theothertwoheldindustrial-strengthVoltJoltstunguns.Thesuit,whobroughtuptherear,wascarryingadigitalclipboard.

Iwasn’tsurprisedtoseethem.Iknewwhytheywerehere.Theywereheretocutopenmyapartmentandpullmeoutofit,likeachunkofSpambeingremovedfromacan.

Whentheyreachedmydoor,myscannergavethemtheonce-over,andtheirIDdataflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatallfiveofthesemenwereIOIcreditofficerswithavalidindenturementarrestwarrantforoneBryceLynch,theoccupantofthisapartment.So,inkeepingwithlocal,state,andfederallaw,myapartmentbuilding’ssecuritysystemimmediatelyopenedbothofmysecuritydoorstograntthementrance.ButtheWarDoorthathadjustslammedintoplacekeptthemoutside.

Ofcourse,thedropcopsexpectedmetohaveredundantsecurity,whichiswhythey’dbroughtplasmawelders.

TheIOIdroneinthesuitsqueezedpastthedropcopsandgingerlypressedhisthumbtomydoorintercom.Hisnameandcorporatetitleappearedonmydisplay:MichaelWilson,IOICreditandCollectionsDivision,Employee#IOI-481231.

Wilsonlookedupintothelensofmyhallwaycameraandsmiledpleasantly.“Mr.Lynch,”hesaid.“MynameisMichaelWilson,andI’mwiththeCreditandCollectionsdivisionofInnovativeOnlineIndustries.”Heconsultedhisclipboard.“I’mherebecauseyouhavefailedtomakethelastthreepaymentsonyourIOIVisacard,whichhasanoutstandingbalanceinexcessoftwentythousanddollars.Ourrecordsalsoshowthatyouarecurrentlyunemployedandhavethereforebeenclassifiedasimpecunious.Undercurrentfederallaw,youarenoweligibleformandatoryindenturement.Youwillremainindentureduntilyouhavepaidyourdebttoourcompanyinfull,alongwithallapplicableinterest,processingandlatefees,andanyotherchargesorpenaltiesthatyouincurhenceforth.”Wilsonmotionedtowardthedropcops.“Thesegentlemenareheretoassistmeinapprehendingyouandescortingyoutoyournewplaceofemployment.Werequestthatyouopenyourdoorandgrantusaccesstoyourresidence.Pleasebeawarethatweareauthorizedtoseizeanypersonalbelongingsyouhaveinside.Thesalevalueoftheseitemswill,ofcourse,bedeductedfromyouroutstandingcreditbalance.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd270

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:271

AsfarasIcouldtell,Wilsonrecitedallofthiswithouttakingasinglebreath,speakingintheflatmonotoneofsomeonewhorepeatsthesamesentencesalldaylong.

Afterabriefpause,Irepliedthroughtheintercom.“Surething,guys.

Justgivemeaminutetogetmypantson.ThenI’llberightout.”

Wilsonfrowned.“Mr.Lynch,ifyoudonotgrantusaccesstoyourresidencewithintenseconds,weareauthorizedtoenterbyforce.Thecostofanydamageresultingfromourforcedentry,includingallpropertydamageandrepairlabor,willbeaddedtoyouroutstandingbalance.Thankyou.”

Wilsonsteppedawayfromtheintercomandnoddedtotheothers.

Oneofthedropcopsimmediatelypowereduphiswelder,andwhenthetipbegantoglowmoltenorange,hebegancuttingthroughmyWarDoor’stitaniumplating.Theotherweldermovedafewfeetfartherdownandbegantocutaholerightthroughthewallofmyapartment.Theseguyshadaccesstothebuilding’ssecurityspecs,sotheyknewthewallsofeachapartmentwerelinedwithsteelplatingandalayerofconcrete,whichtheycouldcutthroughmuchmorequicklythanthetitaniumWarDoor.

Ofcourse,I’dtakentheprecautionofreinforcingmyapartment’swalls,floor,andceiling,withatitaniumalloySageCage,whichI’dassembledpiecebypiece.Oncetheycutthroughmywall,theywouldhavetocutthroughthecage,too.Butthiswouldbuymeonlyfiveorsixextraminutes,atthemost.Thentheywouldbeinside.

I’dheardthatdropcopshadanicknameforthisprocedure—cuttinganindentoutofafortifiedresidencesotheycouldarresthim.TheycalleditdoingaC-section.

Idry-swallowedtwooftheantianxietypillsI’dorderedinpreparationforthisday.I’dalreadytakentwoearlierthatmorning,buttheydidn’tseemtobeworking.

InsidetheOASIS,Iclosedallthewindowsonmydisplayandsetmyaccount’ssecurityleveltomaximum.ThenIpulleduptheScoreboard,justtocheckitonelasttimeandreassuremyselfthatnothinghadchangedandthattheSixersstillhadn’twon.Thetoptenrankingshadbeenstaticforseveraldaysnow.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd271

5/24/112:06PM

272:ErnestCline

HIGHSCORES:

1.Art3mis

354,000

2.Parzival

353,000

3.IOI-655321

352,000

4.Aech

352,000

5.IOI-643187

349,000

6.IOI-621671

348,000

7.IOI-678324

347,000

8.Shoto

347,000

9.IOI-637330

346,000

10.IOI-699423

346,000

Art3mis,Aech,andShotohadallclearedtheSecondGateandobtainedtheCrystalKeywithinforty-eighthoursofreceivingmye-mail.WhenArt3misreceivedthe25,000pointsforreachingtheCrystalKey,ithadputherbackinfirstplace,duetothepointbonusesshe’dalreadyreceivedforfindingtheJadeKeyfirst,andtheCopperKeysecond.

Art3mis,Aech,andShotohadalltriedtocontactmesincereceivingmye-mail,butIhadn’tansweredanyoftheirphonecalls,e-mails,orchatrequests.IsawnoreasontotellthemwhatIintendedtodo.Theycouldn’tdoanythingtohelpmeandwouldprobablyjusttrytotalkmeoutofit.

Therewasnoturningbacknow,anyway.

IclosedtheScoreboardandtookalonglookaroundmystronghold,wonderingifitwasforthelasttime.ThenItookseveralquickdeepbreaths,likeadeep-seadiverpreparingtosubmerge,andtappedthelog-outicononmydisplay.TheOASISvanished,andmyavatarreappearedinsidemyvirtualoffice,astandalonesimulationstoredonmyconsole’sharddrive.Iopenedaconsolewindowandkeyedinthecommandwordtoactivatemycomputer’sself-destructsequence:shitstorm.

Aprogressmeterappearedonmydisplay,showingthatmyharddrivewasnowbeingzeroedoutandwipedclean.

“Good-bye,Max,”Iwhispered.

“Adios,Wade,”Maxsaid,justafewsecondsbeforehewasdeleted.

Sittinginmyhapticchair,Icouldalreadyfeeltheheatcomingfromtheothersideoftheroom.WhenIpulledoffmyvisor,IsawsmokepouringClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd272

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:273

inthroughtheholesbeingcutinthedoorandthewall.Itwasstartingtogettoothickformyapartment’sairpurifierstohandle.Ibegantocough.

Thedropcopworkingonmydoorfinishedcuttinghishole.Thesmokingcircleofmetalfelltothefloorwithaheavymetallicboomthatmademejumpinmychair.

Astheweldersteppedback,anotherdropcopsteppedforwardandusedasmallcanistertospraysomesortoffreezingfoamaroundtheedgeofthehole,coolingoffthemetalsotheywouldn’tburnthemselveswhentheycrawledinside.Whichwaswhattheywereabouttodo.

“Clear!”oneofthemshoutedfromoutinthehallway.“Novisibleweapons!”

Oneofthestun-gunwieldingdropcopsclimbedthroughtheholefirst.

Suddenly,hewasstandingrightinfrontofme,hisweaponleveledatmyface.

“Don’tmove!”heshouted.“Oryougetthejuice,understand?”

Inoddedthatyes,Iunderstood.ItoccurredtomethenthatthiscopwasthefirstvisitorI’deverhadinmyapartmentinallthetimeI’dlivedthere.

Theseconddropcoptocrawlinsidewasn’tnearlyaspolite.Withoutaword,hewalkedoverandjammedaballgaginmymouth.Thiswasstandardprocedure,becausetheydidn’twantmetoissueanymorevoicecommandstomycomputer.Theyneedn’thavebothered.Themomentthefirstdropcophadenteredmyapartment,anincendiarydevicehaddetonatedinsidemycomputer.Itwasalreadymeltingtoslag.

Whenthedropcopfinishedstrappingontheballgag,hegrabbedmebytheexoskeletonofmyhapticsuit,yankedmeoutofmyhapticchairlikearagdoll,andthrewmeonthefloor.TheotherdropcophitthekillswitchthatopenedmyWarDoor,andthelasttwodropcopsrushedin,followedbyWilsonthesuit.

Icurledintoaballonthefloorandclosedmyeyes.Istartedtoshakeinvoluntarily.ItriedtopreparemyselfforwhatIknewwasabouttohappennext.

Theyweregoingtotakemeoutside.

“Mr.Lynch,”Wilsonsaid,smiling.“Iherebyplaceyouundercorporatearrest.”Heturnedtothedropcops.“Telltherepoteamtocomeonupandclearthisplaceout.”Heglancedaroundtheroomandnoticedthethinlineofsmokenowpouringoutofmycomputer.HelookedatmeandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd273

5/24/112:06PM

274:ErnestCline

shookhishead.“Thatwasstupid.Wecouldhavesoldthatcomputertohelppay

downyourdebt.”

Icouldn’treplyaroundtheballgag,soIjustshruggedandgavehimthefinger.

Theytoreoffmyhapticsuitandleftitfortherepoteam.Iwastotallynakedunderneath.Theygavemeadisposableslate-grayjumpsuittoputon,withmatchingplasticshoes.Thesuitfeltlikesandpaper,anditbegantomakemeitchassoonasIputiton.They’dcuffedmyhands,soitwasn’teasytoscratch.

Theydraggedmeoutintothehall.Theharshfluorescentssuckedthecoloroutofeverythingandmadeitlooklikeanoldblack-and-whitefilm.

Aswerodetheelevatordowntothelobby,IhummedalongwiththeMuzakasloudlyasIcould,toshowthemIwasn’tafraid.Whenoneofthedropcopswavedhisstungunatme,Istopped.

Theyputahoodedwintercoatonmeinthelobby.Theydidn’twantmecatchingpneumonianowthatIwascompanyproperty.Ahumanresource.Thentheyledmeoutside,andsunlighthitmyfaceforthefirsttimeinoverhalfayear.

Itwassnowing,andeverythingwascoveredinathinlayerofgrayiceandslush.Ididn’tknowwhatthetemperaturewas,butIcouldn’tremembereverfeelingsocold.Thewindcutrighttomybones.

Theyherdedmeovertotheirtransporttruck.Twonewindentsalreadysatintheback,strappedintoplasticseats,bothwearingvisors.Peoplethey’darrestedearlierthatmorning.Thedropcopswerelikegarbagecol-lectors,makingtheirdailyrounds.

Theindentonmyrightwasatall,thinguy,probablyafewyearsolderthanme.Helookedlikehemightbesufferingfrommalnutrition.Theotherindentwasmorbidlyobese,andIcouldn’tbesureoftheperson’sgender.Idecidedtothinkofhimasmale.Hisfacewasobscuredbyamopofdirtyblondhair,andsomethingthatlookedlikeagasmaskcoveredhisnoseandmouth.Athickblacktuberanfromthemaskdowntoanozzleonthefloor.Iwasn’tsureofitspurposeuntilhelurchedforward,drawinghisrestraintstight,andvomitedintothemask.Iheardavacuumactivate,suckingtheindent’sregurgitatedOreosdownthetubeandintothefloor.

Iwonderediftheystoreditinanexternaltankorjustdumpeditonthestreet.

Probablyatank.IOIwouldprobablyhavehisvomitanalyzedandputtheresultsinhisfile.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd274

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:275

“Youfeelsick?”oneofthedropcopsaskedasheremovedmyballgag.

“TellmenowandI’llputamaskonyou.”

“Ifeelgreat,”Isaid,notveryconvincingly.

“OK.ButifIhavetocleanupyourpuke,I’llmakesureyouregretit.”

Theyshovedmeinsideandstrappedmedowndirectlyacrossfromtheskinnyguy.Twoofthedropcopsclimbedintothebackwithus,stowingtheirplasmaweldersinalocker.Theothertwoslammedthereardoorsandclimbedintothecabupfront.

Aswepulledawayfrommyapartmentcomplex,Icranedmynecktolookthroughthetransport’stintedrearwindows,upatthebuildingwhereI’dlivedforthepastyear.Iwasabletospotmywindowupontheforty-secondfloor,becauseofitsspray-paintedblackglass.Therepoteamwasprobablyalreadyuptherebynow.Allofmygearwasbeingdisassembled,inventoried,tagged,boxed,andpreparedforauction.Oncetheyfinishedemptyingoutmyapartment,custodialbotswouldscouranddisinfectit.

Arepaircrewwouldpatchtheouterwallandreplacethedoor.IOIwouldbebilled,andthecostoftherepairswouldbeaddedtomyoutstandingdebttothecompany.

Bymidafternoon,theluckygunterwhowasnextontheapartmentbuilding’swaitinglistwouldgetamessageinforminghimthataunithadopenedup,andbythisevening,thenewtenantwouldprobablyalreadybemovedin.Bythetimethesunwentdown,allevidencethatI’deverlivedtherewouldbetotally

erased.

AsthetransportswungoutontoHighStreet,Iheardthetirescrunchthesaltcrystalscoveringthefrozenasphalt.Oneofthedropcopsreachedoverandslappedavisoronmyface.Ifoundmyselfsittingonasandywhitebeach,watchingthesunsetwhilewavescrashedinfrontofme.Thismustbethesimulationtheyusedtokeepindentscalmduringtheridedowntown.

Usingmycuffedhand,Ipushedthevisorupontomyforehead.Thedropcopsdidn’tseemtocareorpaymeanynoticeatall.SoIcranedmyheadagaintostareoutthewindow.Ihadn’tbeenouthereintherealworldforalongtime,andIwantedtoseehowithadchanged.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd275

5/24/112:06PM

Athickfilmofneglectstillcoveredeverythinginsight.Thestreets,thebuildings,thepeople.Eventhesnowseemeddirty.Itdrifteddowningrayflakes,likeashafteravolcaniceruption.

Thenumberofhomelesspeopleseemedtohaveincreaseddrastically.

Tentsandcardboardshelterslinedthestreets,andthepublicparksIsawseemedtohavebeenconvertedintorefugeecamps.Asthetransportrolleddeeperintothecity’sskyscrapercore,Isawpeopleclusteredoneverystreetcornerandineveryvacantlot,huddledaroundburningbarrelsandportablefuel-cellheaters.Otherswaitedinlineatthefreesolarchargingstations,wearingbulky,outdatedvisorsandhapticgloves.Theirhandsmadesmall,ghostlygesturesastheyinteractedwiththefarmorepleasantrealityoftheOASISviaoneofGSS’sfreewirelessaccesspoints.

Finally,wereached101IOIPlaza,intheheartofdowntown.

IstaredoutthewindowinsilentapprehensionasthecorporateheadquartersofInnovativeOnlineIndustriesInc.cameintoview:tworectangularskyscrapersfl

ankingacircularone,formingtheIOIcorporatelogo.TheIOIskyscraperswerethethreetallestbuildingsinthecity,mightytowersofsteelandmirroredglassjoinedbydozensofconnectivewalkwaysandelevatortrams.Thetopofeachtowerdisappearedintothesodium-vapor-drenchedcloudlayerabove.ThebuildingslookedidenticaltotheirheadquartersintheOASISonIOI-1,buthereintherealworldtheyseemedmuchmoreimpressive.

ThetransportrolledintoaparkinggarageatthebaseofthecircularClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd276

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:277

toweranddescendedaseriesofconcreterampsuntilwearrivedinalargeopenarearesemblingaloadingdock.Asignoverarowofwidebaydoorsreadioiindenturedemployeeinductioncenter.

TheotherindentsandIwereherdedoffthetransport,whereasquadofstungun–armedsecurityguardswaswaitingtotakecustodyofus.

Ourhandcuffswereremoved;thenanotherguardbegantoswipeeachofuswithahandheldretinascanner.Iheldmybreathasheheldthescanneruptomyeyes.Asecondlater,theunitbeepedandhereadofftheinformationonitsdisplay.“Lynch,Bryce.Agetwenty-two.Fullcitizen-ship.Nocriminalrecord.CreditDefaultIndenturement.”Henoddedtohimselfandtappedaseriesoficonsonhisclipboard.ThenIwasledintoawarm,brightlylitroomfilledwithhundredsofothernewindents.Theywereallshufflingthroughamazeofguideropes,likewearyovergrownchildrenatsomenightmarishamusementpark.Thereseemedtobeanequalnumberofmenandwomen,butitwashardtotell,becausenearlyeveryonesharedmypalecomplexionandtotallackofbodyhair,andweallworethesamegrayjumpsuitsandgrayplasticshoes.WelookedlikeextrasfromTHX1138.

Thelinefedintoaseriesofsecuritycheckpoints.Atthefirstcheckpoint,eachindentwasgivenathoroughscanwithabrand-newMeta-detectortomakesuretheyweren’thidinganyelectronicdevicesonorintheirpersons.WhileIwaitedformyturn,Isawseveralpeoplepulledoutoflinewhenthescannerfounda

subcutaneousminicomputeroravoice-controlledphoneinstalledasatoothreplacement.Theywereledintoanotherroomtohavethedevicesremoved.Adudejustaheadofmeinlineactuallyhadatop-of-the-lineminiatureSinatroOASISconsoleconcealedinsideaprosthetictesticle.Talkaboutballs.

OnceI’dclearedafewmorecheckpoints,Iwasusheredintothetestingarea,agiantroomfilledwithhundredsofsmall,soundproofedcubicles.

Iwasseatedinoneofthemandgivenacheapvisorandanevencheaperpairofhapticgloves.Thegeardidn’tgivemeaccesstotheOASIS,butIstillfounditcomfortingtoputiton.

Iwasthengivenabatteryofincreasinglydifficultaptitudetestsintendedtomeasuremyknowledgeandabilitiesineveryareathatmightconceivablybeofusetomynewemployer.Thesetestswere,ofcourse,cross-referencedwiththefakeeducationalbackgroundandworkhistorythatI’dgiventomybogusBryceLynchidentity.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd277

5/24/112:06PM

278:ErnestCline

ImadesuretoaceallofthetestsonOASISsoftware,hardware,andnetworking,butIintentionallyfailedthetestsdesignedtogaugemyknowledgeofJamesHallidayandtheEasteregg.Idefinitelydidn’twanttogetplacedinIOI’sOologyDivision.TherewasachanceImightrunintoSorrentothere.Ididn’tthinkhe’drecognizeme—we’dneveractuallymetinperson,andInowbarelyresembledmyoldschoolIDphoto—

butIdidn’twanttoriskit.Iwasalreadytemptingfatemorethananyoneintheirrightmindeverwould.

Hourslater,whenIfinallyfinishedthelastexam,Iwasloggedintoavirtualchatroomtomeetwithanindenturementcounselor.HernamewasNancy,andinahypnoticmonotone,sheinformedmethat,duetomyexemplarytestscoresandimpressiveemploymentrecord,Ihadbeen

“awarded”thepositionofOASISTechnicalSupportRepresentativeII.Iwouldbepaid$28,500ayear,minusthecostofmyhousing,meals,taxes,medical,dental,optical,andrecreationservices,allofwhichwouldbedeductedautomaticallyfrommypay.Myremainingincome(iftherewasany)wouldbeappliedtomyoutstandingdebttothecompany.Oncemydebtwaspaidinfull,Iwouldbereleasedfromindenturement.Atthattime,basedonmyjobperformance,itwaspossibleIwouldbeofferedapermanentpositionwithIOI.

Thiswasacompletejoke,ofcourse.Indentswereneverabletopayofftheirdebtandearntheirrelease.Oncetheygotfinishedslappingyouwithpaydeductions,latefees,andinterestpenalties,youwoundupowingthemmoreeachmonth,insteadofless.Onceyoumadethemistakeofgettingyourselfindentured,youwouldprobablyremainindenturedforlife.Alotofpeopledidn’tseemtomindthis,though.Theythoughtofitasjobsecurity.Italsomeanttheyweren’tgoingtostarveorfreezetodeathinthestreet.

My“IndenturementContract”appearedinawindowonmydisplay.

Itcontainedalonglistofdisclaimersandwarningsaboutmyrights(orlackthereof)asanindenturedemployee.Nancytoldmetoreadit,signit,andproceedtoIndentProcessing.Thensheloggedoutofthechatroom.Iscrolledtothebottomofthecontractwithoutbotheringtoreadit.Itwasoversixhundredpageslong.IsignedthenameBryceLynch,thenverifiedmysignaturewitharetinalscan.

EventhoughIwasusingafakename,Iwonderedifthecontractmightstillbelegallybinding.Iwasn’tsure,andIdidn’treallycare.Ihadaplan,andthiswaspartofit.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd278

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:279

Theyledmedownanothercorridor,intotheIndenturementProcessingArea.Iwasplacedonaconveyorbeltthatcarriedmethroughalongseriesofstations.First,theytookmyjumpsuitandshoesandincineratedthem.Thentheyranme

throughakindofhumancarwash—aseriesofmachinesthatsoaped,scrubbed,disinfected,rinsed,dried,anddelousedme.Afterward,Iwasgivenanewgrayjumpsuitandanotherpairofplasticslippers.

Atthenextstation,abankofmachinesgavemeacompletephysical,includingabatteryofbloodtests.(Luckily,theGeneticPrivacyActmadeitillegalforIOItosamplemyDNA.)ThenIwasgivenaseriesofinocula-tionswithanarrayofautomatedneedlegunsthatshotmeinbothshouldersandbothasscheekssimultaneously.

AsIinchedforwardalongtheconveyor,flat-screenmonitorsmountedoverheadshowedthesameten-minutetrainingfilmoverandover,onanendlessloop:“IndenturedServitude:YourFastTrackfromDebttoSuccess!”ThecastwasmadeupofD-listtelevisionstarswhocheerfullyspoutedcorporatepropagandawhilerelatingtheminutiaeofIOI’sindenturementpolicy.Afterfiveviewings,Ihadeverylineofthedamnthingmemorized.Bythetenthviewing,Iwasmouthingthewordsalongwiththeactors.

“WhatcanIexpectafterIcompletemyinitialprocessingandgetplacedinmypermanentposition?”askedJohnny,thetrainingfilm’smaincharacter.

Youcanexpecttospendtherestofyourlifeasacorporateslave,Johnny,Ithought.ButIkeptwatchingas,onceagain,thehelpfulIOIHumanResourcesreppleasantlytoldJohnnyallabouttheday-to-daylifeofanindent.

Finally,Ireachedthelaststation,whereamachinefittedmewithasecurityanklet—apaddedmetalbandthatlockedaroundmyankle,justabovethejoint.Accordingtothetrainingfilm,thisdevicemonitoredmyphysicallocationandalsograntedordeniedmeaccesstodifferentareasoftheIOIofficecomplex.IfItriedtoescape,removetheanklet,orcausetroubleofanykind,thedevicewascapableofdeliveringaparalyzingelectricalshock.Ifnecessary,itcouldalsoadministeraheavy-dutytranquil-izerdirectlyintomybloodstream.

Aftertheankletwason,anothermachineclampedasmallelectronicdeviceontomyrightearlobe,piercingitintwolocations.IwincedinpainClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd279

5/24/112:06PM

280:ErnestCline

andshoutedastreamofprofanity.IknewfromthetrainingfilmthatI’djustbeenfittedwithanOCT.OCTstoodfor“observationandcommunicationtag.”Butmostindentsjustreferredtoitas“eargear.”Itremindedmeofthetagsenvironmentalistsusedtoputonendangeredanimals,totracktheirmovementsinthewild.TheeargearcontainedatinycomlinkthatallowedthemainIOIHumanResourcescomputertomakeannouncementsandissuecommandsdirectlyintomyear.Italsocontainedatinyforward-lookingcamerathatletIOIsupervisorsseewhateverwasdirectlyinfrontofme.SurveillancecamerasweremountedineveryroomintheIOIcomplex,butthatapparentlywasn’tenough.Theyalsohadtomountacameratothesideofeveryindent’shead.

Afewsecondsaftermyeargearwasattachedandactivated,IbegantoheartheplacidmonotoneoftheHRmainframe,droninginstructionsandotherinformation.Thevoicedrovemenutsatfirst,butIgraduallygotusedtoit.Ididn’thavemuchchoice.

AsIsteppedofftheconveyor,theHRcomputerdirectedmetoanearbycafeteriathatlookedlikesomethingoutofanoldprisonmovie.Iwasgivenalimegreentrayoffood.Atastelesssoyburger,alumpofrunnymashedpotatoes,andsomeunrecognizableformofcobblerfordessert.

Idevouredallofitinafewminutes.TheHRcomputercomplimentedmeonmyhealthyappetite.ThenitinformedmethatIwasnowpermittedtomakeafive-minutevisittothebathroom.WhenIcameout,Iwasdirectedontoanelevatorwithnobuttonsorfloorindicator.Whenthedoorsslidopen,Isawthefollowingstenciledonthewall:indenthab—

block05—techsupreps.

Ishuffledofftheelevatoranddownthecarpetedhallway.Itwasquietanddark.Theonlyilluminationcamefromsmallpathlightingembeddedinthefloor.I’dlosttrackofthetime.ItseemedlikedayshadpassedsinceI’dbeenpulledoutofmyapartment.Iwasdeadonmyfeet.

“Yourfirsttechnicalsupportshiftbeginsinsevenhours,”theHRcomputerdronedsoftlyinmyear.“Youhaveuntilthentosleep.Turnleftattheintersectioninfrontofyouandproceedtoyourassignedhab-unit,number42G.”

IcontinuedtodoasIwastold.IthoughtIwasalreadygettingprettygoodatit.

TheHabBlockremindedmeofamausoleum.Itwasanetworkofvaultedhallways,eachlinedwithcoffin-shapedsleepingcapsules,rowClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd280

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:281

afterrowofthem,stackedtotheceiling,tenhigh.Eachcolumnofhab-unitswasnumbered,andthedoorofeachcapsulewaslettered,AthroughJ,withunitAatthebottom.

Ieventuallyreachedmyunit,nearthetopofcolumnnumberforty-two.AsIapproachedit,thehatchirisedopenwithahiss,andasoftbluelightwinkedoninside.Iascendedthenarrowaccessladdermountedbetweentheadjacentrowsofcapsules,thensteppedontotheshortplatformbeneaththehatchtomyunit.WhenIclimbedinsidethecapsule,theplatformretractedandthehatchirisedshutatmyfeet.

Theinsideofmyhab-unitwasaneggshellwhiteinjection-moldedplasticcoffin,ameterhigh,ameterwide,andtwometerslong.Thefloorofthecapsulewascoveredwithagel-foammattresspadandpillow.Theybothsmelledlikeburnedrubber,soIassumedtheymustbenew.

Inadditiontothecameraattachedtothesideofmyhead,therewasacameramountedabovethedoorofmyhab-unit.Thecompanydidn’tbotherhidingit.Theywantedtheirindentstoknowtheywerebeingwatched.

Theunit’sonlyamenitywastheentertainmentconsole—alarge,flattouchscreenbuiltintothewall.Awirelessvisorwassnappedintoaholderbesideit.Itappedthetouchscreen,activatingtheunit.Mynewemployeenumberandpositionappearedatthetopofthedisplay:Lynch,BryceT.—

OASISTECHREPII—IOIEmployee#338645.

Amenuappearedbelow,listingtheentertainmentprogrammingtowhichI

presentlyhadaccess.Ittookonlyafewsecondstoperusemylimitedoptions.Icouldviewonlyonechannel:IOI-N—thecompany’stwenty-four-hournewsnetwork.Itprovidedanonstopstreamofcompany-relatednewsandpropaganda.Ialsohadaccesstoalibraryoftrainingfilmsandsimulations,mostofwhichweregearedtowardmynewpositionasanOASIStechnicalsupportrepresentative.

WhenItriedtoaccessoneoftheotherentertainmentlibraries,VintageMovies,thesysteminformedmethatIwouldn’tbegrantedaccesstoawiderselectionofentertainmentoptionsuntilIhadreceivedanabove-averageratinginthreeconsecutiveemployeeperformancereviews.ThenthesystemaskedmeifIwantedmoreinformationontheIndenturedEmployeeEntertainmentRewardProgram.Ididn’t.

TheonlyTVshowIhadaccesstowasacompany-producedsitcomcalledTommyQueue.Thesynopsissaiditwasa“wackysituationcomedyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd281

5/24/112:06PM

282:ErnestCline

chroniclingthemisadventuresofTommy,anewlyindenturedOASIStechrepstrugglingtoachievehisgoalsoffinancialindependenceandon-the-jobexcellence!”

IselectedthefirstepisodeofTommyQueue,thenunsnappedthevisorandputiton.AsIexpected,theshowwasreallyjustatrainingfilmwithalaughtrack.Ihadabsolutelynointerestinit.Ijustwantedtogotosleep.

ButIknewIwasbeingwatched,andthateverymoveImadewasbeingscrutinizedandlogged.SoIstayedawakeaslongasIcould,ignoringoneepisodeofTommyQueueafteranother.

Despitemybestefforts,mythoughtsdriftedtoArt3mis.RegardlessofwhatI’dbeentellingmyself,IknewshewastherealreasonI’dgonethroughwiththislunaticplan.Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?TherewasagoodchanceImightneverescapefromthisplace.Ifeltburiedunderanavalancheofself-

doubt.HadmydualobsessionswiththeeggandArt3misfinallydrivenmecompletelyinsane?WhywouldItakesuchanidioticrisktowinoversomeoneI’dneveractuallymet?Someonewhoappearedtohavenointerestinevertalkingtomeagain?

Wherewassherightnow?Didshemissme?

IcontinuedtomentallytorturemyselflikethatuntilIfinallydriftedofftosleep.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd282

5/24/112:06PM

IOI’sTechnicalSupportcallcenteroccupiedthreeentirefloorsoftheheadquarters’easternI-shapedtower.Eachofthesefloorscontainedamazeofnumberedcubicles.Minewasstuckbackinaremotecorner,farfromanywindows.Mycubiclewascompletelyemptyexceptforanadjustableofficechairboltedtothefloor.Severalofthecubiclesaroundmewereunoccupied,awaitingthearrivalofothernewindents.

Iwasn’tpermittedtohaveanydecorationsinmycubicle,becauseIhadn’tearnedthatprivilegeyet.IfIobtainedasufficientnumberof“perkpoints”bygettinghighproductivityandcustomerapprovalratings,Icould“spend”someofthemtopurchasetheprivilegeofdecoratingmycube,perhapswithapottedplantoraninspirationalposterofakittenhangingfromaclothesline.

WhenIarrivedinmycubicle,Igrabbedmycompany-issuedvisorandglovesfromtherackonthebarecubewallandputthemon.ThenIcollapsedintomychair.Myworkcomputerwasbuiltintothechair’scircularbase,anditactivateditselfautomaticallywhenIsatdown.MyemployeeIDwasverifiedandIwasautomaticallyloggedintomyworkaccountontheIOIintranet.Iwasn’tallowedtohaveanyoutboundaccesstotheOASIS.AllIcouldreallydowasreadwork-relatede-mails,viewsupportdocumentationandproceduralmanuals,andcheckmycalltimestatistics.Thatwasit.AndeverymoveImadeontheintranetwascloselymonitored,controlled,andlogged.

Iputmyselfinthecallqueueandbeganmytwelve-hourshift.I’dbeenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd283

5/24/112:06PM

284:ErnestCline

anindentforonlyeightdaysnow,butitalreadyfeltlikeI’dbeenimprisonedhereforyears.

Thefirstcaller’savatarappearedinfrontofmeinmysupportchatroom.Hisnameandstatsalsoappeared,floatingintheairabovehim.Hehadtheastoundinglyclevernameof“HotCock007.”

Icouldseethatitwasgoingtobeanotherfabulousday.

HotCock007wasahulkingbaldbarbarianwithstuddedblackleatherarmorandlotsofdemontattooscoveringhisarmsandface.Hewasholdingagiganticbastardswordnearlytwiceaslongashisavatar’sbody.

“Goodmorning,Mr.HotCock007,”Idroned.“Thankyouforcallingtechnicalsupport.I’mtechrepnumber338645.HowmayIhelpyouthisevening?”Thecustomercourtesysoftwarefilteredmyvoice,alteringitstoneandinflectiontoensurethatIalwayssoundedcheerfulandupbeat.

“Uh,yeah...”HotCock007began.“Ijustboughtthisbad-asssword,andnowIcan’tevenuseit!Ican’tevenattacknothingwithit.Whatthehelliswrongwiththispieceofshit?Isitbroke?”

“Sir,theonlyproblemisthatyou’reacompletefuckingmoron,”Isaid.

Iheardafamiliarwarningbuzzerandamessageflashedonmydisplay:COURTESYVIOLATION—FLAGS:FUCKING,MORON

LASTRESPONSEMUTED—VIOLATIONLOGGED

IOI’spatentedcustomercourtesysoftwarehaddetectedtheinappro-priatenatureofmyresponseandmutedit,sothecustomerdidn’thearwhatI’dsaid.The

softwarealsologgedmy“courtesyviolation”andforwardedittoTrevor,mysectionsupervisor,sothathecouldbringitupduringmynextbiweeklyperformancereview.

“Sir,didyoupurchasethisswordinanonlineauction?”

“Yeah,”HotCock007replied.“Paidouttheassforittoo.”

“Justamoment,sir,whileIexaminetheitem.”Ialreadyknewwhathisproblemwas,butIneededtomakesurebeforetellinghimorI’dgethitwithafine.

Itappedtheswordwithmyindexfinger,selectingit.Asmallwindowopenedanddisplayedtheitem’sproperties.Theanswerwasrightthere,onthefirstline.Thisparticularmagicswordcouldonlybeusedbyanavatarwhowastenthlevelorhigher.Mr.HotCock007wasonlyseventhlevel.Iquicklyexplainedthistohim.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd284

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:285

“What?!Thatain’tfair!Theguywhosoldittomedidn’tsaynothingaboutthat!”

“Sir,it’salwaysadvisabletomakesureyouravatarcanactuallyuseanitembeforeyoupurchaseit.”

“Goddammit!”heshouted.“Well,whatamIsupposedtodowithitnow?”

“Youcouldshoveitupyourassandpretendyou’reacorndog.”

COURTESYVIOLATION—RESPONSEMUTED—VIOLATIONLOGGED.

Itriedagain.“Sir,youmightwanttokeeptheitemstoredinyourinventoryuntilyouravatarhasattainedtenthlevel.Oryoumaywishtoputtheitembackupforauctionyourselfandusetheproceedstopurchaseasimilarweapon.Onewitha

powerlevelcommensuratetothatofyouravatar.”

“Huh?”HotCock007responded.“Whaddyamean?”

“Saveitorsellit.”

“Oh.”

“CanIhelpyouwithanythingelsetoday,sir?”

“No,Idon’tguess—”

“Great.Thankyouforcallingtechnicalsupport.Haveanoutstandingday.”

Itappedthedisconnecticononmydisplay,andHotCock007vanished.

CallTime:2:07.Asthenextcustomer’savatarappeared—ared-skinned,large-breastedalienfemalenamedVartaxxx—thecustomersatisfactionratingthatHotCock007hadjustgivenmeappearedonmydisplay.Itwasa6,outofapossiblescoreof10.ThesystemthenhelpfullyremindedmethatIneededtokeepmyaverageabove8.5ifIwantedtogetaraiseaftermynextreview.

Doingtechsupportherewasnothinglikeworkingfromhome.Here,Icouldn’twatchmovies,playgames,orlistentomusicwhileIansweredtheendlessstreamofinanecalls.Theonlydistractionwasstaringattheclock.(OrtheIOIstockticker,whichwasalwaysatthetopofeveryindent’sdisplay.Youcouldn’tgetridofit.)Duringeachshift,Iwasgiventhreefive-minuterestroombreaks.

Lunchwasthirtyminutes.Iusuallyateinmycubicleinsteadofthecafeteria,soIwouldn’thavetolistentotheothertechrepsbitchabouttheirClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd285

5/24/112:06PM

286:ErnestCline

callsorboastabouthowmanyperkpointsthey’dearned.I’dgrowntodespisetheotherindentsalmostasmuchasthecustomers.

Ifellasleepfiveseparatetimesduringmyshift.Eachtime,whenthesystemsawthatI’ddriftedoff,itsoundedawarningklaxoninmyears,joltingmebackawake.Thenitnotedtheinfractioninmyemployeedatafile.MynarcolepsyhadbecomesuchaconsistentproblemduringmyfirstweekthatIwasnowbeingissuedtwolittleredpillseachdaytohelpmestayawake.Itookthemtoo.ButnotuntilafterIgotoffwork.

Whenmyshiftfinallyended,Irippedoffmyheadsetandvisorandwalkedbacktomyhab-unitasquicklyasIcould.ThiswastheonlytimeeachdayIeverhurriedanywhere.WhenIreachedmytinyplasticcoffin,Icrawledinsideandcollapsedonthemattress,facedown,inthesameexactpositionasthenightbefore.Andthenightbeforethat.Ilaythereforafewminutes,staringatthetimereadoutonmyentertainmentconsoleoutofthecornerofmyeye.Whenitreached7:07p.m.,Irolledoverandsatup.

“Lights,”Isaidsoftly.Thishadbecomemyfavoritewordoverthepastweek.Inmymind,ithadbecomesynonymouswithfreedom.

Thelightsembeddedintheshellofmyhab-unitshutoff,plungingthetinycompartmentintodarkness.Ifsomeonehadbeenwatchingeitherofmylivesecurityvidfeeds,theywouldhaveseenabriefflashasthecamerasswitchedtonight-visionmode.ThenIwouldhavebeenclearlyvisibleontheirmonitorsonceagain.But,thankstosomesabotageI’dperformedearlierintheweek,thesecuritycamerasinmyhab-unitandmyeargearwerenownolongerperformingtheirassignedtasks.Soforthefirsttimethatday,Iwasn’tbeingwatched.

Thatmeantitwastimetorock.

Itappedtheentertainmentcenterconsole’stouchscreen.Itlitup,presentingmewiththesamechoicesI’dhadonmyfirstnighthere:ahandfuloftrainingfilmsandsimulations,includingthecompleterunofTommyQueueepisodes.

Ifanyonecheckedtheusagelogsformyentertainmentcenter,theywouldshowthatIwatchedTommyQueueeverynightuntilIfellasleep,andthatonceI’dworkedmywaythroughallsixteenepisodes,I’dstartedoveratthebeginning.ThelogswouldalsoshowthatIfellasleepatroughlythesametimeeverynight(butnotatexactlythesametime),andthatIsleptlikethedeaduntilthefollowingmorning,whenmyalarmsounded.

Ofcourse,Ihadn’treallybeenwatchingtheirinanecorporateshitcom

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd286

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:287

everynight.AndIwasn’tsleeping,either.I’dactuallybeenoperatingonabouttwohoursofsleepanightforthepastweek,anditwasbeginningtotakeitstollonme.

Butthemomentthelightsinmyhab-unitwentout,Ifeltenergizedandwideawake.MyexhaustionseemedtovanishasIbegantonavigatethroughtheentertainmentcenteroperationmenusfrommemory,thefingersofmyrighthanddancingrapidlyacrossthetouchscreen.

Aboutsevenmonthsearlier,I’dobtainedasetofIOIintranetpasswordsfromtheL33tHax0rzWarezhaus,thesameblack-marketdataauctionsitewhereI’dpurchasedtheinformationneededtocreateanewidentity.Ikeptaneyeonalloftheblack-marketdatasites,becauseyouneverknewwhatmightbeupforsaleonthem.OASISserverexploits.

ATMhacks.Celebritysextapes.Younameit.I’dbeenbrowsingthroughtheL33tHax0rzWarezhausauctionlistingswhenoneinparticularcaughtmyeye:IOIIntranetAccessPasswords,BackDoors,andSystemExploits.ThesellerclaimedtobeofferingclassifiedproprietaryinformationonIOI’sintranetarchitecture,alongwithaseriesofadministrativeaccesscodesandsystemexploitsthatcould“giveausercarteblancheinsidethecompanynetwork.”

Iwouldhaveassumedthedatawasbogushaditnotbeenlistedonsucharespectedsite.TheanonymoussellerclaimedtobeaformerIOIcontractprogrammerandoneoftheleadarchitectsofitscompanyintranet.

Hewasprobablyaturncoat—aprogrammerwhointentionallycodedbackdoorsandsecurityholesintoasystemhedesigned,sothathecouldlatersellthemontheblackmarket.Itallowedhimtogetpaidforthesamejobtwice,andtosalveanyguilthefeltaboutworkingforademonicmultinationalcorporationlikeIOI.

Theobviousproblem,whichthesellerdidn’tbothertopointoutintheauction

listing,wasthatthesecodeswereuselessunlessyoualreadyhadaccesstothecompanyintranet.IOI’sintranetwasahigh-security,standalonenetworkwithnodirectconnectionstotheOASIS.TheonlywaytogetaccesstoIOI’sintranetwastobecomeoneoftheirlegitimateemployees(verydifficultandtime-consuming).Oryoucouldjointhecompany’sever-growingranksofindenturedservants.

I’ddecidedtobidontheIOIaccesscodesanyway,ontheoffchancetheymightcomeinhandysomeday.Sincetherewasnowaytoverifythedata’sauthenticity,thebiddingstayedlow,andIwontheauctionforafewthousandcredits.ThecodesarrivedinmyinboxafewminutesaftertheClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd287

5/24/112:06PM

288:ErnestCline

auctionended.OnceI’dfinisheddecryptingthedata,Iexamineditallthoroughly.Everythinglookedlegit,soIfiledtheinfoawayforarainydayandforgotaboutit—untilaboutsixmonthslater,whenIsawtheSixerbarricadearoundCastleAnorak.ThefirstthingIthoughtofwastheIOIaccesscodes.Thenthewheelsinmyheadbegantoturnandmyridiculousplanbegantotakeshape.

IwouldalterthefinancialrecordsonmybogusBryceLynchidentityandallowmyselftobecomeindenturedbyIOI.OnceIinfiltratedthebuildingandgotbehindthecompanyfirewall,IwouldusetheintranetpasswordstohackintotheSixers’privatedatabase,thenfigureawaytobringdowntheshieldthey’derectedoverAnorak’scastle.

Ididn’tthinkanyonewouldanticipatethismove,becauseitwassoclearlyinsane.

Ididn’ttesttheIOIpasswordsuntilthesecondnightofmyindenturement.Iwasunderstandablyanxious,becauseifitturnedoutI’dbeensoldbogusdataandnoneofthepasswordsworked,Iwouldhavesoldmyselfintolifelongslavery.

Keepingmyeargearcamerapointedstraightahead,awayfromthescreen,Ipulleduptheentertainmentconsole’sviewersettingsmenu,whichallowedmetomakeadjustmentstothedisplay’saudioandvideooutput:volumeandbalance,brightnessandtint.Icrankedeachoptionuptoitshighestsetting,thentappedtheApplybuttonatthebottomofthescreenthreetimes.IsetthevolumeandbrightnesscontrolstotheirlowestsettingsandtappedtheApplybuttonagain.Asmallwindowappearedinthecenterofthescreen,promptingmeforamaintenance-techIDnumberandaccesspassword.IquicklyenteredtheIDnumberandthelongalphanumericpasswordthatI’dmemorized.Icheckedbothforerrorsoutofthecornerofmyeye,thentappedok.Thesystempausedforwhatseemedlikeaverylongtime.Then,tomygreatrelief,thefollowingmessageappeared:

MAINTENANCECONTROLPANEL—ACCESSGRANTED

Inowhadaccesstoamaintenanceserviceaccountdesignedtoallowrepairmentotestanddebugtheentertainmentunit’svariouscomponents.Iwasnowloggedinasatechnician,butmyaccesstotheintranetClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd288

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:289

wasstillprettylimited.Still,itgavemealltheelbowroomIneeded.

Usinganexploitleftbyoneoftheprogrammers,Iwasnowabletocreateabogusadminaccount.Oncethatwassetup,Ihadaccesstojustabouteverything.

Myfirstorderofbusinesswastogetsomeprivacy.

IquicklynavigatedthroughseveraldozensubmenusuntilIreachedthecontrolpanelfortheIndentMonitoringSystem.WhenIenteredmyemployeenumbermyindentprofileappearedonthedisplay,alongwithamugshotthey’dtakenofmeduringmyinitialprocessing.Theprofilelistedmyindentaccountbalance,paygrade,bloodtype,currentperformancereviewrating—everyscrapofdatathecompanyhadonme.Atthetoprightofmyprofileweretwovidfeed

windows,onefedbythecamerainmyeargear,theotherlinkedtothecamerainmyhab-unit.Myeargearvidfeedwascurrentlyaimedatasectionofthewall.Thehab-unitcamerawindowshowedaviewofthebackofmyhead,whichI’dpositionedtoblocktheentertainmentcenter’sdisplayscreen.

Iselectedbothvidfeedcamerasandaccessedtheirconfigurationsettings.Usingoneoftheturncoat’sexploits,Iperformedaquickhackthatcausedmyeargearandhab-unitcamerastodisplaythearchivedvideofrommyfirstnightofindenturementinsteadofalivefeed.Now,ifsomeonecheckedmycamerafeeds,they’dseemelyingasleepinmyhab-unit,notsittingupallnight,furiouslyhackingmywaythroughthecompanyintranet.ThenIprogrammedthecamerastoswitchtotheprerecordedfeedswheneverIshutoutthelightsinmyhab-unit.Thesplit-secondjumpcutinthefeedwouldbemaskedbythemomentaryvideodistortionthatoccurredwhenthecamerasswitchedintonight-visionmode.

Ikeptexpectingtobediscoveredandlockedoutofthesystem,butitneverhappened.Mypasswordscontinuedtowork.I’dspentthepastsixnightslayingsiegetotheIOIintranet,diggingdeeperanddeeperintothenetwork.Ifeltlikeaconvictinanoldprisonmovie,returningtomycelleachnighttotunnelthroughthewallwithateaspoon.

Then,lastnight,justbeforeI’dsuccumbedtoexhaustion,I’dfinallymanagedtonavigatemywaythroughtheintranet’slabyrinthoffirewallsandintothemainOologyDivisiondatabase.Themotherlode.TheSixers’privatefilepile.Andtonight,Iwouldfinallybeabletoexploreit.

IknewthatIneededtobeabletotakesomeoftheSixers’datawithmewhenIescaped,soearlierintheweek,I’dusedmyintranetadminaccounttosubmitabogushardwarerequisitionform.Ihadaten-zettabyteClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd289

5/24/112:06PM

290:ErnestCline

flashdrivedeliveredtoanonexistentemployee(“SamLowery”)inanemptycubicleafewrowsawayfrommyown.Makingsuretokeepmyeargearcamerapointedintheotherdirection,I’dduckedintothecube,grabbedthetinydrive,

pocketedit,andsmuggleditbacktomyhab-unit.

Thatnight,afterIshutoffthelightsanddisabledthesecuritycameras,Iunlockedmyentertainmentunit’smaintenanceaccesspanelandinstalledtheflashdriveintoanexpansionslotusedforfirmwareupgrades.NowIcoulddownloaddatafromtheintranetdirectlytothatdrive.

Iputontheentertainmentcenter’svisorandgloves,thenstretchedoutonmymattress.Thevisorpresentedmewithathree-dimensionalviewoftheSixers’database,withdozensofoverlappingdatawindowssuspendedinfrontofme.Usingmygloves,Ibegantomanipulatethesewindows,navigatingmywaythroughthedatabase’sfilestructure.ThelargestsectionofthedatabaseappearedtobedevotedtoinformationonHalliday.

Theamountofdatatheyhadonhimwasstaggering.ItmademygraildiarylooklikeasetofCliffsNotes.TheyhadthingsI’dneverseen.ThingsIdidn’tevenknowexisted.Halliday’sgrade-schoolreportcards,homemoviesfromhischildhood,e-mailshe’dwrittentofans.Ididn’thavetimetoreadoveritall,butIcopiedthereallyinterestingstuffovertomyflashdrive,to(hopefully)studylater.

IfocusedonisolatingthedatarelatedtoCastleAnorakandtheforcestheSixershadpositionedinandaroundit.Icopiedalloftheintelontheirweapons,vehicles,gunships,andtroopnumbers.IalsosnaggedallofthedataIcouldfindontheOrbofOsuvox,theartifacttheywereusingtogeneratetheshieldaroundthecastle,includingexactlywheretheywerekeepingitandtheemployeenumberoftheSixerwizardtheyhadoperatingit.

ThenIhitthejackpot—afoldercontaininghundredsofhoursofOASISsimcaprecordingsdocumentingtheSixers’initialdiscoveryoftheThirdGateandtheirsubsequentattemptstoopenit.Aseveryonenowsuspected,theThirdGatewaslocatedinsideCastleAnorak.OnlyavatarswhopossessedacopyoftheCrystalKeycouldcrossthethresholdofthecastle’sfrontentrance.Tomydisgust,IlearnedthatSorrentohadbeenthefirstavatartosetfootinsideCastleAnoraksinceHalliday’sdeath.

Thecastleentranceledintoamassivefoyerwhosewalls,floor,andceil-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd290

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:291

ingwereallmadeofgold.Atthenorthendofthechamber,alargecrystaldoorwassetintothewall.Ithadasmallkeyholeatitsverycenter.

ThemomentIsawit,IknewIwaslookingattheThirdGate.

Ifast-forwardedthroughseveralotherrecentsimcapfiles.FromwhatIcouldtell,theSixersstillhadn’tfiguredouthowtoopenthegate.SimplyinsertingtheCrystalKeyintothekeyholehadnoeffect.They’dhadtheirentireteamtryingtofigureoutwhyforseveraldaysnow,butstillhadn’tmadeanyprogress.

WhilethedataandvideoontheThirdGatewascopyingovertomyflashdrive,IcontinuedtodelvedeeperintotheSixerdatabase.Eventually,IuncoveredarestrictedareacalledtheStarChamber.ItwastheonlyareaofthedatabaseIcouldn’tseemtoaccess.SoIusedmyadminID

tocreateanew“testaccount,”thengavethataccountsuperuseraccessandfulladministratorprivileges.ItworkedandIwasgrantedaccess.Theinformationinsidetherestrictedareawasdividedintotwofolders:MissionStatusandThreatAssessments.IopenedtheThreatAssessmentsfolderfirst,andwhenIsawwhatwasinside,Ifelttheblooddrainfrommyface.

Therewerefivefilefolders,labeledParzival,Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,and

Daito.Daito’sfolderhadalargered“X”overit.

IopenedtheParzivalfolderfirst.Adetaileddossierappeared,containingalloftheinformationtheSixershadcollectedonmeoverthepastfewyears.Mybirthcertificate.Myschooltranscripts.AtthebottomtherewasalinktoasimcapofmyentirechatlinksessionwithSorrento,endingwiththebombdetonatinginmyaunt’strailer.AfterI’dgoneintohiding,they’dlosttrackofme.Theyhadcollectedthousandsofscreenshotsandvidcapsofmyavataroverthepastyear,andloadsofdataonmystrongholdonFalco,buttheydidn’tknowanythingaboutmylocationintherealworld.Mycurrentwhereaboutswerelistedas“unknown.”

Iclosedthewindow,tookadeepbreath,andopenedthefileonArt3mis.

Attheverytopwasaschoolphotoofayounggirlwithadistinctlysadsmile.Tomysurprise,shelookedalmostidenticaltoheravatar.Thesamedarkhair,thesamehazeleyes,andthesamebeautifulfaceIknewsowell—withonesmalldifference.Mostofthelefthalfofherfacewascoveredwithareddish-purplebirthmark.Iwouldlaterlearnthatthesetypesofbirthmarkweresometimesreferredtoas“portwinestains.”Inthephoto,sheworeasweepofherdarkhairdownoverherlefteyetotrytoconcealthemarkasmuchaspossible.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd291

5/24/112:06PM

292:ErnestCline

Art3mishadledmetobelievethatinrealityshewassomehowhideous,butnowIsawthatnothingcouldhavebeenfurtherfromthetruth.Tomyeyes,thebirthmarkdidabsolutelynothingtodiminishherbeauty.Ifanything,thefaceIsawinthephotoseemedevenmorebeautifultomethanthatofheravatar,becauseIknewthisonewasreal.

ThedatabelowthephotosaidthatherrealnamewasSamanthaEvelynCook,thatshewasatwenty-year-oldCanadiancitizen,fivefeetandseveninchestall,andthatsheweighedonehundredandsixty-eightpounds.

Thefilealsocontainedherhomeaddress—2206GreenleafLane,Vancouver,BritishColumbia—alongwithalotofotherinformation,includingherbloodtypeandherschooltranscriptsgoingallthewaybacktokin-dergarten.

Ifoundanunlabeledvideolinkatthebottomofherdossier,andwhenIselectedit,alivevidfeedofasmallsuburbanhouseappearedonmydisplay.Afterafewseconds,IrealizedIwaslookingatthehousewhereArt3mislived.

AsIdugfurtherintoherfile,Ilearnedthatthey’dhadherundersurveillanceforthepastfivemonths.Theyhadherhousebuggedtoo,becauseIfoundhundredsofhoursofaudiorecordingsmadewhileshewasloggedintotheOASIS.Theyhadcompletetexttranscriptsofeveryaudiblewordshe’dspokenwhileclearing

thefirsttwogates.

IopenedShoto’sfilenext.Theyknewhisrealname,AkihideKaratsu,andtheyalsoappearedtohavehishomeaddress,anapartmentbuildinginOsaka,Japan.Hisfilealsocontainedaschoolphoto,showingathin,stoicboywithashavedhead.LikeDaito,helookednothinglikehisavatar.

Aechseemedtobetheonetheyknewtheleastabout.Hisfilecontainedverylittleinformation,andnophoto—justascreenshotofhisavatar.Hisrealnamewaslistedas“HenrySwanson,”butthatwasanaliasusedbyJackBurtoninBigTroubleinLittleChina,soIknewitmustbeafake.Hisaddresswaslistedas“mobile,”andbelowittherewasalinklabeled“RecentAccessPoints.”ThisturnedouttobealistofthewirelessnodelocationsAechhadrecentlyusedtoaccesshisOASISaccount.Theywereallovertheplace:Boston;Washington,D.C.;NewYorkCity;Philadelphia;andmostrecently,Pittsburgh.

NowIbegantounderstandhowtheSixershadbeenabletolocateArt3misandShoto.IOIownedhundredsofregionaltelecomcompanies,effectivelymakingthemthelargestInternetserviceproviderintheworld.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd292

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:293

Itwasprettydifficulttogetonlinewithoutusinganetworktheyownedandoperated.Fromthelooksofit,IOIhadbeenillegallyeavesdroppingonmostoftheworld’sInternettrafficinanattempttolocateandidentifythehandfulofgunterstheyconsideredtobeathreat.Theonlyreasontheyhadn’tbeenabletolocatemewasbecauseI’dtakentheparanoia-inducedprecautionofleasingadirectfiber-opticconnectiontotheOASIS

frommyapartmentcomplex.

IclosedAech’sfile,thenopenedthefolderlabeledDaito,alreadydreadingwhatImightfindthere.Liketheothers,theyhadhisrealname,ToshiroYoshiaki,andhishomeaddress.Twonewsarticlesabouthis“suicide”were

linkedatthebottomofhisdossier,alongwithanunlabeledvideoclip,time-stampedonthedayhe’ddied.Iclickedonit.Itwashandheldvideocamerafootageshowingthreelargemeninblackskimasks(oneofwhomwasoperatingthecamera)waitingsilentlyinahallway.

Theyappearedtoreceiveanorderviatheirradioearpieces,thenusedakeycardtoopenthedoorofatinyone-roomapartment.Daito’sapartment.Iwatchedinhorrorastheyrushedin,yankedhimoutofhishapticchair,andthrewhimoffthebalcony.

Thebastardsevenfilmedhimplummetingtohisdeath.ProbablyatSorrento’srequest.

Awaveofnauseawashedoverme.Whenitfinallypassed,Icopiedthecontentsofallfivedossiersovertomyflashdrive,thenopenedtheMissionStatusfolder.ItappearedtocontainanarchiveoftheOologyDivision’sstatusreports,intendedfortheSixers’topbrass.Thereportswerearrangedbydate,withthemostrecentonelistedfirst.WhenIopenedit,IsawthatitwasadirectivememosentfromNolanSorrentototheIOIBoardofExecutives.Init,SorrentoproposedsendingagentstoabductArt3misandShotofromtheirhomestoforcethemtohelpIOIopentheThirdGate.OncetheSixershadobtainedtheeggandwonthecontest,Art3misandShotowould“bedisposedof.”

Isatthereinstunnedsilence.ThenIreadthememoagain,feelingacombinationofrageandpanic.

Accordingtothetimestamp,Sorrentohadsentthememojustaftereighto’clock,lessthanfivehoursago.Sohissuperiorsprobablyhadn’tevenseenityet.Whentheydid,theywouldstillwanttomeettodiscussSorrento’ssuggestedcourseofaction.Sotheyprobablywouldn’tsendtheiragentsafterArt3misandShotountilsometimetomorrow.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd293

5/24/112:06PM

294:ErnestCline

Istillhadtimetowarnthem.Buttodothat,Iwouldhavetodrasticallyaltermyescapeplan.

Beforemyarrest,I’dsetupatimedfundstransferthatwoulddepositenoughmoneyinmyIOIcreditaccounttopayoffmyentiredebt,forcingIOItoreleasemefromindenturement.Butthattransferwouldn’thappenforanotherfivedays.Bythen,theSixerswouldprobablyhaveArt3misandShotolockedinawindowlessroomsomewhere.

Icouldn’tspendtherestoftheweekexploringtheSixerdatabase,likeI’dplanned.IhadtograbasmuchdataasIcouldandmakemyescapenow.

Igavemyselfuntildawn.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd294

5/24/112:06PM

Iworkedfranticallyforthenextfourhours.MostofthattimewasspentcopyingasmuchdataaspossiblefromtheSixerdatabasetomystolenflashdrive.Oncethattaskwascompleted,IsubmittedanExecutiveOologistSupplyRequisitionOrder.ThiswasanonlineformthatSixercommandersusedtorequestweaponsorequipmentinsidetheOASIS.Iselectedaveryspecificitem,thenscheduleditsdeliveryfornoontwodaysfromnow.

WhenIfinallyfinished,itwassixthirtyinthemorning.Thenexttech-supportshiftchangewasnowonlyninetyminutesaway,andmyhab-unitneighborswouldstartwakingupsoon.Iwasoutoftime.

Ipulledupmyindenturementprofile,accessedmydebtstatement,andzeroedoutmyoutstandingbalance—moneyI’dneveractuallyborrowedtobeginwith.ThenIselectedtheIndenturedServantObservationandCommunicationsTagcontrolsettingssubmenu,whichoperatedbothmyeargearandsecurityanklet.Finally,IdidsomethingI’dbeendyingtodoforthepastweek—Idisabledthelockingmechanismsonbothdevices.

Ifeltasharppainastheeargearclampsretractedandpulledfreeofthecartilageonmyleftear.Thedevicebouncedoffmyshoulderandlandedinmylap.Inthesameinstant,theshackleonmyrightankleclickedopenandfelloff,revealingabandofabradedredskin.

I’dnowpassedthepointofnoreturn.IOIsecuritytechsweren’ttheonlyoneswhohadaccesstomyeargear’svidfeed.TheIndenturedServantProtectionAgencyalsousedittomonitorandrecordmydailyactivities,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd295

5/24/112:06PM

296:ErnestCline

toensurethatmyhumanrightswerebeingobserved.NowthatI’dremovedthedevice,therewouldbenodigitalrecordofwhathappenedtomefromthismomentforward.IfIOIsecuritycaughtmebeforeImadeitoutofthebuilding,carryingastolenflashdrivefilledwithhighlyin-criminatingcompanydata,Iwasdead.TheSixerscouldtortureandkillme,andnoonewouldeverknow.

Iperformedafewfinaltasksrelatedtomyescapeplan,thenloggedoutoftheIOIintranetforthelasttime.Ipulledoffmyvisorandglovesandopenedthemaintenanceaccesspanelnexttotheentertainmentcenterconsole.Therewasasmallemptyspacebelowtheentertainmentmodule,betweentheprefabwallofmyhab-unitandtheoneadjacenttoit.Iremovedthethin,neatlyfoldedbundleI’dhiddenthere.Itwasavacuum-sealedIOImaintenance-techuniform,completewithacapandanID

badge.(Liketheflashdrive,I’dobtainedtheseitemsbysubmittinganintranetrequisitionform,thenhadthemdeliveredtoanemptycubicleonmyfloor.)Ipulledoffmyindentjumpsuitandusedittowipethebloodoffmyearandneck.ThenIremovedtwoBand-Aidsfromundermymattressandslappedthemovertheholesinmyearlobe.OnceIwasdressedinmynewmaintenance-techthreads,Icarefullyremovedtheflashdrivefromitsexpansionslotandpocketedit.ThenIpickedupmyeargearandspokeintoit.“Ineedtousethebathroom,”Isaid.

Thehab-unitdooririsedopenatmyfeet.Thehallwaywasdarkanddeserted.I

stuffedmyeargearandindentjumpsuitunderthemattressandputtheankletinthepocketofmynewuniform.Then,remindingmyselftobreathe,Icrawledoutsideanddescendedtheladder.

Ipassedafewotherindentsonmywaytotheelevators,butasusual,noneofthemmadeeyecontact.Thiswasahugerelief,becauseIwasworriedsomeonemightrecognizemeandnoticethatIdidn’tbelonginamaintenance-techuniform.WhenIsteppedinfrontoftheexpresselevatordoor,Iheldmybreathasthesystemscannedmymaintenance-techID

badge.Afterwhatfeltlikeaneternity,thedoorsslidopen.

“Goodmorning,Mr.Tuttle,”theelevatorsaidasIsteppedinside.

“Floorplease?”

“Lobby,”Isaidhoarsely,andtheelevatorbegantodescend.

“HarryTuttle”wasthenameprintedonmymaintenancetechID

badge.I’dgiventhefictionalMr.Tuttlecompleteaccesstotheentirebuilding,thenreprogrammedmyindentankletsothatitwasencodedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd296

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:297

withtheTuttleID,makingitfunctionjustlikeoneofthesecuritybraceletsthatmaintenancetechswore.WhenthedoorsandelevatorsscannedmetomakesureIhadthepropersecurityclearance,theankletinmypockettoldthemthatyes,Isuredid,insteadofdoingwhatitwassupposedtodo,whichwaszapmyasswithafewthousandvoltsandinca-pacitatemeuntilthesecurityguardsarrived.

Irodetheelevatordowninsilence,tryingnottostareatthecameramountedabovethedoors.ThenIrealizedthevideobeingshotofmewouldbescrutinizedwhenthiswasallover.Sorrentohimselfwouldprobablyseeit,andsowouldhissuperiors.SoIlookeddirectlyintothelensofthecamera,smiled,andscratched

thebridgeofmynosewithmymiddlefinger.

Theelevatorreachedthelobbyandthedoorsslidopen.Ihalfexpectedtofindanarmyofsecurityguardswaitingformeoutside,theirgunsleveledatmyface.ButtherewasonlyacrowdofIOImiddle-managementdroneswaitingtogetontheelevator.Istaredatthemblanklyforasecond,thensteppedoutofthecar.Itwaslikecrossingtheborderintoanothercountry.

Asteadystreamofovercaffeinatedofficeworkersscurriedacrossthelobbyandinandoutoftheelevatorsandexits.Thesewereregularemployees,notindents.Theywereallowedtogohomeattheendoftheirshifts.Theycouldevenquitiftheywantedto.Iwonderedifitbotheredanyofthem,knowingthatthousandsofindenturedslaveslivedandtoiledhereinthesamebuilding,justafewfloorsawayfromthem.

Ispottedtwosecurityguardsstationednearthereceptiondeskandgavethemawideberth,weavingmywaythroughthethickcrowd,crossingtheimmenselobbytothelongrowofautomaticglassdoorsthatledoutside,tofreedom.IforcedmyselfnottorunasIpushedthroughthearrivingworkers.Justamaintenancetechhere,folks,headinghomeafteralongnightofrebootingrouters.That’sall.Iamdefinitelynotanindentmakingadaringescapewithtenzettabytesofstolencompanydatainhispocket.

Nosiree.

Halfwaytothedoors,Inoticedanoddsoundandglanceddownatmyfeet.Iwasstillwearingmydisposableplasticindentslippers.Eachfootfallmadeashrillsqueakonthewaxedmarblefloor,standingoutamidtherumbleofsensiblebusinessfootwear.EverystepItookseemedtoscream:Hey,look!Overhere!Aguyintheplasticslippers!

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd297

5/24/112:06PM

298:ErnestCline

ButIkeptwalking.Iwasalmosttothedoorswhensomeoneplacedahandon

myshoulder.Ifroze.“Sir?”Iheardsomeonesay.Itwasawoman’svoice.

Ialmostboltedoutthedoor,butsomethingaboutthewoman’stonestoppedme.Iturnedandsawtheconcernedfaceofatallwomaninhermidforties.Darkbluebusinesssuit.Briefcase.“Sir,yourearisbleeding.”

Shepointedatit,wincing.“Alot.”

Ireachedupandtouchedmyearlobe,andmyhandcameawayred.Atsomepoint,theBand-AidsI’dappliedhadfallenoff.

Iwasparalyzedforasecond,unsureofwhattodo.Iwantedtogiveheranexplanation,butcouldn’tthinkofone.SoIsimplynodded,muttered

“thanks,”thenturnedaroundand,ascalmlyaspossible,walkedoutside.

Thefrozenmorningwindwassofiercethatitnearlyknockedmeover.

WhenIregainedmybalance,Iboundeddownthetieredsteps,pausingbrieflytodropmyankletintoatrashreceptacle.Iheardithitthebottomwithasatisfyingthud.

OnceIreachedthestreet,Iheadednorth,walkingasfastasmyfeetwouldcarryme.IwassomewhatconspicuousbecauseIwastheonlypersonnotwearingacoatofsomekind.Myfeetquicklywentnumb,becauseIalsowasn’twearingsocksundermyplasticindentslippers.

MyentirebodywasshiveringbythetimeIfinallyreachedthewarmconfinesoftheMailbox,apostofficeboxrentaloutletlocatedfourblocksfromtheIOIplaza.Theweekbeforemyarrest,I’drentedapostofficeboxhereonlineandhadatop-of-the-lineportableOASISrigshippedtoit.

TheMailboxwascompletelyautomated,sotherewerenoemployeestocontendwith,andwhenIwalkedintherewerenocustomerseither.Ilocatedmybox,punchedinthekeycode,andretrievedtheportableOASIS

rig.Isatdownonthefloorandrippedopenthepackagerightthere.Irubbedmyfrozenhandstogetheruntilthefeelingreturnedtomyfingers,thenputontheglovesandvisorandusedtherigtologintotheOASIS.

GregariousSimulationSystemswaslocatedlessthanamileaway,soIwasabletouseoneoftheircomplimentarywirelessaccesspointsinsteadofoneofthecitynodesownedbyIOI.

MyheartwaspoundingasIloggedin.I’dbeenofflineforeightwholedays—apersonalrecord.Asmyavatarslowlymaterializedonmystronghold’sobservationdeck,Ilookeddownatmyvirtualbody,admiringitlikeafavoritesuitIhadn’tworninawhile.Awindowimmediatelyap-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd298

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:299

pearedonmydisplay,informingmethatI’dreceivedseveralmessagesfromAechandShoto.And,tomysurprise,therewasevenamessagefromArt3mis.AllthreeofthemwantedtoknowwhereIwasandwhatthehellhadhappenedtome.

IrepliedtoArt3misfirst.ItoldherthattheSixersknewwhoshewasandwhereshelivedandthattheyhadherunderconstantsurveillance.Ialsowarnedherabouttheirplanstoabductherfromherhome.Ipulledacopyofherdossierofftheflashdriveandattachedittomymessageasproof.ThenIpolitelysuggestedthatsheleavehomeimmediatelyandgetthehelloutofDodge.

Don’tstoptopackasuitcase,Iwrote.Don’tsaygood-byetoanyone.Leaverightnow,andgetsomewheresafe.Makesureyouaren’tfollowed.Thenfindasecurenon-IOI-controlledInternetconnectionandgetbackonline.I’llmeetyouinAech’sBasementassoonasIcan.Don’tworry—Ihavesomegoodnewstoo.

Atthebottomofthemessage,Iaddedashortpostscript:PS—Ithinkyoulookevenmorebeautifulinreallife.

Isentsimilare-mailstoShotoandAech(minusthepostscript),alongwithcopiesoftheirSixerdossiers.ThenIpulleduptheUnitedStatesCitizenRegistrydatabaseandattemptedtologin.Tomygreatrelief,thepasswordsI’dpurchasedstillworked,andIwasabletoaccessthefakeBryceLynchcitizenprofileI’dcreated.ItnowcontainedtheIDphototakenduringmyindent

processing,andthewordswantedfugitiveweresuperimposedovermyface.IOIhadalreadyreportedMr.Lynchasanescapedindent.

Itdidn’ttakemeverylongtocompletelyerasetheBryceLynchidentityandcopymyfingerprintsandretinalpatternsbackovertomyoriginalcitizenprofile.WhenIloggedoutofthedatabaseafewminuteslater,BryceLynchnolongerexisted.IwasWadeWattsonceagain.

IhailedanautocaboutsidetheMailbox,makingsuretoselectoneoperatedbyalocalcabcompanyandnotaSupraCab,whichwasawhollyownedsubsidiaryofIOI.

WhenIgotin,IheldmybreathasIpressedmythumbtotheIDscanner.Thedisplayflashedgreen.ThesystemrecognizedmeasWadeWatts,notasthefugitiveindentBryceLynch.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd299

5/24/112:06PM

300:ErnestCline

“Goodmorning,Mr.Watts,”theautocabsaid.“Whereto?”

IgavethecabtheaddressofaclothingstoreonHighStreet,closetotheOSUcampus.ItwasaplacecalledThr3ads,whichspecializedin

“high-techurbanstreetwear.”Iraninsideandboughtapairofjeansandasweater.Bothitemswere“dichotomywear,”meaningtheywerewiredforOASISuse.Theydidn’thavehaptics,butthepantsandshirtcouldlinkupwithmyportableimmersionrig,lettingitknowwhatIwasdoingwithmytorso,arms,andlegs,makingiteasiertocontrolmyavatarthanwithagloves-onlyinterface.Ialsoboughtafewpacksofsocksandunderwear,asimulatedleatherjacket,apairofboots,andablackknit-woolcaptocovermyfreezing,stubble-coverednoggin.

Iemergedfromthestoreafewminuteslaterdressedinmynewthreads.

AsthefrigidwindenvelopedmeagainIzippedupmynewjacketandpulledonthewoolcap.Muchbetter.Itossedthemaintenance-techjumpsuitandplasticindentshoesinatrashcan,thenbegantowalkupHighStreet,scanningthestorefronts.Ikeptmyheaddowntoavoidmakingeyecontactwiththestreamofsullenuniversitystudentsfilingpastme.

Afewblockslater,IduckedintoaVend-Allfranchise.Insidetherewererowsofvendingmachinesthatsoldeverythingunderthesun.Oneofthem,labeleddefensedispenser,offeredself-defenseequipment:lightweightbodyarmor,chemicalrepellents,andawideselectionofhand-guns.Itappedthescreensetintothefrontofthemachineandscrolledthroughthecatalog.Afteramoment’sdeliberation,IpurchasedaflakvestandaGlock47Cpistol,alongwiththreeclipsofammo.Ialsoboughtasmallcanisterofmace,thenpaidforeverythingbypressingmyrightpalmtoahandscanner.Myidentitywasverifiedandmycriminalrecordwaschecked.

NAME:WADEWATTS

OUTSTANDINGWARRANTS:NONE

CREDITRATING:EXCELLENT

PURCHASERESTRICTIONS:NONE

TRANSACTIONAPPROVED!

THANKYOUFORYOURBUSINESS!

Iheardaheavymetallicthunkasmypurchasesslidintothesteeltraynearmyknees.Ipocketedthemaceandputtheflakvestonunderneathmynewshirt.ThenIremovedtheGlockfromitsclearplasticblisterClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd300

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:301

packaging.ThiswasthefirsttimeI’deverheldarealgun.Evenso,theweaponfeltfamiliarinmyhands,becauseI’dfiredthousandsofvirtualfirearmsintheOASIS.Ipressedasmallbuttonsetintothebarrelandthegunemittedatone.Iheldthepistolgripfirmlyforafewseconds,firstinmyrighthand,thenmyleft.Theweaponemittedasecondtone,lettingmeknowithadfinishedscanningmyhandprints.Iwasnowtheonlypersonwhocouldfireit.Theweaponhadabuilt-intimerthatwouldpreventitfromfiringforanothertwelvehours(a“cooling-offperiod”),butIstillfeltbetterhavingitonme.

IwalkedtoanOASISparlorlocatedafewblocksaway,afranchiseoutletcalledthePlug.Thedingybacklitsign,whichfeaturedasmilingan-thropomorphicfiber-opticcable,promisedLightning-FastOASISAccess!

CheapGearRental!andPrivateImmersionBays!Open24-7-365!I’dseenalotofbanneradsforthePlugonline.Theyhadareputationforhighpricesandoutdatedhardware,buttheirconnectionsweresupposedtobefast,reliable,andlag-free.Forme,theirmajorsellingpointwasthattheywereoneofthefewOASISparlorchainsnotownedbyIOIoroneofitssubsidiaries.

ThemotiondetectoremittedabeepasIsteppedthroughthefrontdoor.Therewasasmallwaitingareaofftomyright,currentlyempty.Thecarpetwasstainedandworn,andthewholeplacereekedofindustrial-strengthdisinfectant.Avacant-eyedclerkglancedupatmefrombehindabulletproofPlexiglasbarrier.Hewasinhisearlytwenties,withaMohawkanddozensoffacialpiercings.Hewaswearingabifocalvisor,whichgavehimasemitransparentviewoftheOASISwhilealsoallowinghimtoseehisreal-worldsurroundings.Whenhespoke,Isawthathisteethhadallbeensharpenedtopoints.“WelcometothePlug,”hesaidinaflatmonotone.“Wehaveseveralbaysfree,sothere’snowaiting.Packagepric-inginformationisdisplayedrighthere.”Hepointedtothedisplayscreenmountedonthecounterdirectlyinfrontofme;thenhiseyesglazedoverasherefocusedhisattentionontheworldinsidehisvisor.

Iscannedmychoices.Adozenimmersionrigswereavailable,ofvary-ingqualityandprice.Economy,Standard,Deluxe.Iwasgivendetailedspecsoneach.Youcouldrentbytheminute,orpayaflathourlyrate.

Avisorandapairofhapticgloveswereincludedintherentalprice,butahapticsuitcostextra.Therentalcontractcontainedalotoffineprintabouttheadditionalchargesyouwouldincurifyoudamagedtheequipment,andalotof

legalesestatingthatthePlugcouldnotbeheldrespon-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd301

5/24/112:06PM

302:ErnestCline

sibleforanythingyoudid,underanycircumstances,especiallyifitwassomethingillegal.

“I’dliketorentoneofthedeluxerigsfortwelvehours,”Isaid.

Theclerkraisedhisvisor.“Youhavetopayinadvance,yourealize?”

Inodded.“Ialsowanttorentafat-pipeconnection.Ineedtouploadalargeamountofdatatomyaccount.”

“Uploadingcostsextra.Howmuchdata?”

“Tenzettabytes.”

“Damn,”hewhispered.“Whatyouuploading?TheLibraryofCongress?”

Iignoredthequestion.“IalsowanttheMondoUpgradePackage,”Isaid.

“Surething,”theclerkrepliedwarily.“Yourtotalcomestoeleventhousandbigones.Justputyourthumbonthedrumandwe’llgetyouallfixedup.”

Helookedmorethanalittlesurprisedwhenthetransactioncleared.

Thenheshruggedandhandedmeakeycard,avisor,andsomegloves.

“Bayfourteen.Lastdooronyourright.Therestroomisattheendofthehall.Ifyouleaveanykindofmessinthebay,we’llhavetokeepyourdeposit.Vomit,urine,semen,thatkindathing.AndI’mtheguywhohastocleanitup,sodomeasolidandshowsomerestraint,willya?”

“Yougotit.”

“Enjoy.”

“Thanks.”

Bayfourteenwasasoundproofedten-by-tenroomwithalate-modelhapticriginthecenter.Ilockedthedoorbehindmeandclimbedintotherig.Thevinylonthehapticchairwaswornandcracked.IslidthedatadriveintoaslotonthefrontoftheOASISconsoleandsmiledasitlockedintoplace.

“Max?”Isaidtotheemptyair,onceI’dloggedbackin.ThisbootedupabackupofMaxthatIkeptstoredinmyOASISaccount.

Max’ssmilingfaceappearedonallofmycommandcentermonitors.

“H-h-heythere,compadre!”hestuttered.“H-h-howgoesit?”

“Thingsarelookingup,pal.Nowstrapin.We’vegotalotofworktodo.”

IopenedupmyOASISaccountmanagerandinitiatedtheuploadfrommyflashdrive.IpaidGSSamonthlyfeeforunlimiteddatastorageonmyaccount,andIwasabouttotestitslimits.EvenusingthePlug’shigh-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd302

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:303

bandwidthfiber-opticconnection,thetotalestimateduploadtimefortenzettabytesofdatawasoverthreehours.IreorderedtheuploadsequencesothefilesIneededaccesstorightawaywouldgettransferredfirst.AssoonasdatawasuploadedtomyOASISaccountIhadimmediateaccesstoitandcouldalsotransferittootherusersinstantaneously.

First,Ie-mailedallofthemajornewsfeedsadetailedaccountofhowIOIhadtriedtokillme,howtheyhadkilledDaito,andhowtheywereplanningtokillArt3misandShoto.IattachedoneofthevideoclipsI’dretrievedfromtheSixerdatabasetothemessage—thevideocamerafootageofDaito’sexecution.IalsoattachedacopyofthememoSorrentohadsenttotheIOIboard,suggestingthat

theyabductArt3misandShoto.

Finally,IattachedthesimcapofmychatlinksessionwithSorrento,butIbleepedthepartwherehesaidmyrealnameandblurredtheimageofmyschoolphoto.Iwasn’tyetreadytorevealmytrueidentitytotheworld.Iplannedtoreleasetheuneditedvideolater,oncetherestofmyplanhadplayedout.Thenitwouldn’tmatter.

Ispentaboutfifteenminutescomposingonelaste-mail,whichIaddressedtoeverysingleOASISuser.OnceIwashappywiththewording,IstoreditinmyDraftsfolder.ThenIloggedintoAech’sBasement.

Whenmyavatarappearedinsidethechatroom,IsawthatAech,Art3mis,andShotowerealreadytherewaitingforme.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd303

5/24/112:06PM

“Z!”Aechshoutedasmyavatarappeared.“Whatthehell,man?

Wherehaveyoubeen?I’vebeentryingtoreachyouforoveraweek!”

“SohaveI,”Shotoadded.“Wherewereyou?AndhowdidyougetthosefilesfromtheSixerdatabase?”

“It’salongstory,”Isaid.“Firstthingsfirst.”IaddressedShotoandArt3mis.“Haveyoutwoleftyourhomes?”

Theybothnodded.

“Andyou’reeachloggedinfromasafelocation?”

“Yes,”Shotosaid.“I’minamangacaferightnow.”

“AndI’mattheVancouverairport,”Art3missaid.ItwasthefirsttimeI’dheardhervoiceinmonths.“I’mloggedinfromagerm-riddenpublicOASISbooth

rightnow.Iranoutofmyhousewithnothingbuttheclothesonmyback,soIhopethatSixerdatayousentusislegit.”

“Itis,”Isaid.“Trustme.”

“Howcanyoubesureofthat?”Shotoasked.

“BecauseIhackedintotheSixerDatabaseanddownloadeditmyself.”

Theyallstaredatmeinsilence.Aechraisedaneyebrow.“Andhow,exactly,didyoumanagethat,Z?”

“IassumedafakeidentityandmasqueradedasanindenturedservanttoinfiltrateIOI’scorporateheadquarters.I’vebeenthereforthepasteightdays.Ijustnowescaped.”

“Holyshit!”Shotowhispered.“Seriously?”

Inodded.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd304

5/24/112:06PM

ReadyPlayerOne:305

“Dude,youhaveballsofsolidadamantium,”Aechsaid.“Respect.”

“Thanks.Ithink.”

“Let’sassumeyou’renottotallybullshittingus,”Art3missaid.“HowdoesalowlyindentgetaccesstosecretSixerdossierfilesandcompanymemos?”

Iturnedtofaceher.“Indentshavelimitedaccesstothecompanyintranetviatheirhab-unitentertainmentsystem,frombehindtheIOIfirewall.Fromthere,IwasabletouseaseriesofbackdoorsandsystemexploitsleftbytheoriginalprogrammerstotunnelthroughthenetworkandhackdirectlyintotheSixers’privatedatabase.”

Shotolookedatmeinawe.“Youdidthat?Allbyyourself?”

“Thatiscorrect,sir.”

“It’samiracletheydidn’tcatchyouandkillyou,”Art3missaid.“Whywouldyoutakesuchastupidrisk?”

“Whydoyouthink?TotryandfindawaytogetthroughtheirshieldandreachtheThirdGate.”Ishrugged.“ItwastheonlyplanIcouldcomeupwithonsuchshortnotice.”

“Z,”Aechsaid,grinning,“youareonecrazysonofabitch.”Hewalkedoverandgavemeahighfive.“Butthat’swhyIloveyou,man!”

Art3misscowledatme.“Ofcourse,whenyoufoundouttheyhadsecretfilesoneachofus,youjustcouldn’tresistlookingatthem,couldyou?”

“Ihadtolookatthem!”Isaid.“Tofindouthowmuchtheyknewabouteachofus!Youwouldhavedonethesamething.”

Sheleveledafingeratme.“No,Iwouldn’thave.Irespectotherpeople’sprivacy!”

“Art3mis,chillout!”Aechinterjected.“Heprobablysavedyourlife,youknow.”

Sheseemedtoconsiderthis.“Fine,”shesaid.“Forgetit.”ButIcouldtellshewasstillpissedoff.

Ididn’tknowwhattosay,soIkeptplowingforward.

“I’msendingeachofyouacopyofalltheSixerdataIsmuggledout.

Tenzettabytesofit.Youshouldhaveitnow.”Iwaitedwhileeachofthemcheckedtheirinbox.“ThesizeoftheirdatabaseonHallidayisunreal.Hiswholelifeisinthere.They’vecollectedinterviewswitheveryoneHallidayeverknew.Itcouldtakemonthstoreadthroughthemall.”

Iwaitedforafewminutes,watchingtheireyesscanoverthedata.

“Whoa!”Shotosaid.“Thisisincredible.”Helookedoveratme.“Howthehell

didyouescapefromIOIwithallofthisstuff?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd305

5/24/112:06PM

306:ErnestCline

“Bybeingextrasneaky.”

“Aechisright,”Art3missaid,shakingherhead.“Youarecertifiablynuts.”Shehesitatedforasecond,thenadded,“Thanksforthewarning,Z.

Ioweyouone.”

Iopenedmymouthtosay“you’rewelcome,”butnowordscameout.

“Yes,”Shotosaid.“SodoI.Thanks.”

“Don’tmentionit,guys,”Ifinallymanagedtosay.

“Well?”Aechsaid.“Hituswiththebadnewsalready.HowclosearetheSixerstoclearingtheThirdGate?”

“Digthis,”Isaid,grinning.“Theyhaven’tevenfiguredouthowtoopenityet.”

Art3misandShotostaredatmeindisbelief.Aechsmiledwide,thenbegantobobhisheadandpresshispalmstothesky,asifdancingtosomeunheardravetrack.“Ohyes!Ohyes!”hesang.

“You’rekidding,right?”Shotoasked.

Ishookmyhead.

“You’renotkidding?”Art3missaid.“Howisthatpossible?SorrentohastheCrystalKeyandheknowswherethegateis.Allhehastodoisopenthedamnthingandstepinside,right?”

“Thatwastrueforthefirsttwogates,”Ireplied.“ButGateThreeisdifferent.”I

openedalargevidfeedwindowintheairbesideme.“Checkthisout.It’sfromtheSixers’videoarchive.It’savidcapoftheirfirstattempttoopenthegate.”

IhitPlay.ThevideoclipopenedwithashotofSorrento’savatarstandingoutsidethefrontgatesofCastleAnorak.Thecastle’sfrontentrance,whichhadbeenimpregnableforsomanyyears,swungopenasSorrentoapproached,likeanautomaticdooratasupermarket.“ThecastleentrancewillopenforanavatarwhoholdsacopyoftheCrystalKey,”Iexplained.

“Ifanavatardoesn’thaveacopyofthekey,hecan’tcrossthethresholdandenterthecastle,evenifthedoorsarealreadyopen.”

WeallwatchedthevidcapasSorrentopassedthroughtheentranceandintothelargegold-linedfoyerthatlaybeyond.Sorrento’savatarcrossedthepolishedfloorandapproachedthelargecrystaldoorsetintothenorthwall.Therewasakeyholeintheverycenterofthedoor,anddirectlyaboveit,threewordswereetchedintothedoor’sglittering,facetedsurface:charity.hope.faith.

Sorrentosteppedforward,holdingouthiscopyoftheCrystalKey.Heslidthekeyintothekeyholeandturnedit.Nothinghappened.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd306

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:307

Sorrentoglancedupatthethreewordsprintedonthegate.“Charity,hope,faith,”hesaid,readingthemaloud.Onceagain,nothinghappened.

Sorrentoremovedthekey,recitedthethreewordsagain,thenrein-sertedthekeyandturnedit.Stillnothing.

IstudiedAech,Art3mis,andShotoastheywatchedthevideo.Theirexcitementandcuriosityhadalreadyshiftedintoconcentrationastheyattemptedtosolvethepuzzlebeforethem.Ipausedthevideo.“WheneverSorrentoisloggedin,hehasateamofconsultantsandresearcherswatchinghiseverymove,”Isaid.“Youcanheartheirvoicesonsomeofthevidcaps,feedinghimsuggestionsandadvice

throughhiscomlink.Sofar,theyhaven’tbeenmuchhelp.Watch—”

Onthevideo,Sorrentowasmakinganotherattempttoopenthegate.

Hedideverythingexactlyasbefore,exceptthistime,whenheinsertedtheCrystalKey,heturneditcounterclockwiseinsteadofclockwise.

“Theytryeveryasininethingyoucanimagine,”Isaid.“SorrentorecitesthewordsonthegateinLatin.AndElvish.AndKlingon.ThentheygethunguponrecitingFirstCorinthians13:13,aBibleversethatcontainsthewords‘charity,hope,andfaith.’Apparently,‘charity,hope,andfaith’arealsothenamesofthreemartyredCatholicsaints.TheSixershavebeentryingtoattachsomesignificancetothatforthepastfewdays.”

“Morons,”Aechsaid.“Hallidaywasanatheist.”

“They’regettingdesperatenow,”Isaid.“Sorrentohastriedeverythingbutgenuflecting,doingalittledance,andstickinghispinkyfingerinthekeyhole.”

“That’sprobablynextuponhisagenda,”Shotosaid,grinning.

“Charity,hope,faith,”Art3missaid,recitingthewordsslowly.Sheturnedtome.“WheredoIknowthatfrom?”

“Yeah,”Aechsaid.“Thosewordsdosoundfamiliar.”

“Ittookmeawhiletoplacethemtoo,”Isaid.

Theyalllookedatmeexpectantly.

“Saytheminreverseorder,”Isuggested.“Betteryet,singtheminreverseorder.”

Art3mis’seyesnarrowed.“Faith,hope,charity,”shesaid.Sherepeatedthemafewtimes,recognitiongrowinginherface.Thenshesang:“Faithandhopeandcharity...”

Aechpickedupthenextline:“Theheartandthebrainandthebody...”

“Giveyouthree...asamagicnumber!”Shotofinishedtriumphantly.

“SchoolhouseRock!”theyallshoutedinunison.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd307

5/24/112:07PM

308:ErnestCline

“See?”Isaid.“Iknewyouguyswouldgetit.You’reasmartbunch.”

“‘ThreeIsaMagicNumber,’musicandlyricsbyBobDorough,”

Art3misrecited,asifpullingtheinformationfromamentalencyclope-dia.“Writtenin1973.”

Ismiledather.“Ihaveatheory.IthinkthismightbeHalliday’swayoftellingushowmanykeysarerequiredtoopentheThirdGate.”

Art3misgrinned,thensang,“Ittakesthree.”

“Nomore,noless,”continuedShoto.

“Youdon’thavetoguess,”addedAech.

“Three,”Ifinished,“isthemagicnumber.”ItookoutmyowncopyoftheCrystalKeyandhelditup.Theothersdidthesame.“Wehavefourcopiesofthekey.Ifatleastthreeofuscanreachthegate,wecangetitopen.”

“Whatthen?”Aechasked.“Doweallenterthegateatthesametime?”

“Whatifonlyoneofuscanenterthegateonceit’sopen?”Art3missaid.

“IdoubtHallidaywouldhavesetituplikethat,”Isaid.

“Whoknowswhatthatcrazybastardwasthinking?”Art3missaid.

“He’stoyedwithuseverystepoftheway,andnowhe’sdoingitagain.

WhyelsewouldherequirethreecopiesoftheCrystalKeytoopenthefinal

gate?”

“Maybebecausehewantedtoforceustoworktogether?”Isuggested.

“Orhejustwantedthecontesttoendwithabig,dramaticfinale,”Aechoffered.“Thinkaboutit.IfthreeavatarsentertheThirdGateattheexactsamemoment,thenitbecomesaracetoseewhocanclearthegateandreachtheeggfirst.”

“Hallidaywasonecrazy,sadisticbastard,”Art3mismuttered.

“Yeah,”Aechsaid,nodding.“Yougotthatright.”

“Lookatitthisway,”Shotosaid.“IfHallidayhadn’tsetuptheThirdGatetorequirethreekeys...theSixersmighthavealreadyfoundtheeggbynow.”

“ButtheSixershaveadozenavatarswithcopiesoftheCrystalKey,”

Aechsaid.“Theycouldopenthegaterightnow,iftheyweresmartenoughtofigureouthow.”

“Dilettantes,”Art3missaid.“It’stheirownfaultfornotknowingalltheSchoolhouseRock!lyricsbyheart.Howdidthosefoolsevengetthisfar?”

“Bycheating,”Isaid.“Remember?”

“Oh,that’sright.Ikeepforgetting.”Shegrinnedatme,andIfeltmykneesgoallrubbery.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd308

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:309

“JustbecausetheSixershaven’topenedthegateyetdoesn’tmeantheywon’tfigureitouteventually,”Shotosaid.

Inodded.“Shoto’sright.Soonerorlaterthey’llmaketheSchoolhouseRock!connection.Sowecan’twasteanymoretime.”

“Well,whatarewewaitingfor?”Shotosaidexcitedly.“Weknowwherethegateisandhowtoopenit!Solet’sdoit!Andmaythebestgunterwin!”

“You’reforgettingsomething,Shoto-san,”Aechsaid.“Parzivalherestillhasn’ttoldushowwe’regoingtogetpastthatshield,fightourwaythroughtheSixers’army,andgetinsidethecastle.”Heturnedtome.

“Youdohaveaplanforthat,don’tyou,Z?”

“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Iwasjustgettingtothat.”Imadeasweepinggesturewithmyrighthand,andathree-dimensionalhologramofCastleAnorakappeared,floatingintheairinfrontofme.ThetransparentbluespheregeneratedbytheOrbofOsuvoxappearedaroundthecastle,surroundingitbothabove-andbelowground.Ipointedtoit.“Thisshieldisgoingtodroponitsown,atnoononMonday,aboutthirty-sixhoursfromnow.Andthenwe’regoingtowalkrightthroughthecastle’sfrontentrance.”

“Theshieldisgoingtodrop?Onitsown?”Art3misrepeated.“Theclanshavebeenlobbingnukesatthatsphereforthepasttwoweeks,andtheyhaven’tevenscratchedit.Howareyougoingtogetitto‘droponitsown’?”

“I’vealreadytakencareofit,”Isaid.“Youguysaregonnahavetotrustme.”

“Itrustyou,Z,”Aechsaid.“Butevenifthatshielddoesdrop,toreachthecastle,we’llstillhavetofightourwaythroughthelargestarmyintheOASIS.”Hepointedtothehologram,whichshowedtheSixertrooppositionsaroundthecastle,justinsidethesphere.“Whataboutthesefools?

Andtheirtanks?Andtheirgunships?”

“Obviously,we’regoingtoneedalittlehelp,”Isaid.

“Alotofhelp,”Art3misclarified.

“Andwho,exactly,arewegoingtoconvincetohelpuswagewaragainsttheentireSixerarmy?”Aechasked.

“Everyone,”Isaid.“Everysinglegunteronthegrid.”Iopenedanotherwindow,displayingthebriefe-mailI’dcomposedjustbeforeloggingintotheBasement.“I’mgoingtosendthismessageouttonight,toeverysingleOASISuser.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd309

5/24/112:07PM

310:ErnestCline

Fellowgunters,

Itisadarkday.Afteryearsofdeception,exploitation,andknavery,theSixershavefinallymanagedtobuyandcheattheirwaytotheentranceoftheThirdGate.

Asyouknow,IOIhasbarricadedCastleAnorakinanattempttopreventanyoneelsefromreachingtheegg.We’vealsolearnedthatthey’veusedillegalmethodstouncovertheidentitiesofgunterstheyconsiderathreat,withtheintentionofabductingandmurderingthem.

Ifguntersaroundtheworlddon’tjoinforcestostoptheSixers,theywillreachtheeggandwinthecontest.AndthentheOASISwillfallunderIOI’simperialistrule.

Thetimeisnow.OurassaultontheSixerarmywillbegintomorrowatnoon,OST.

Joinus!

Sincerely,

Aech,Art3mis,Parzival,andShoto

“Knavery?”Art3missaidaftershe’dfinishedreadingit.“Wereyouusingathesauruswhenyouwrotethis?”

“Iwastryingtomakeitsound,youknow,grand,”Isaid.“Official.”

“Melikey,Z,”Aechsaid.“Itreallygetsthebloodstirring.”

“Thanks,Aech.”

“Sothat’sit?Thisisyourplan?”Art3missaid.“SpamtheentireOASIS,askingforhelp?”

“Moreorless,yeah.That’stheplan.”

“AndyoureallythinkeveryonewilljustshowupandhelpusfighttheSixers?”shesaid.“Justforthehellofit?”

“Yes,”Isaid.“Ido.”

Aechnodded.“He’sright.NoonewantstheSixerstowinthecontest.

Andtheydefinitelydon’twantIOItotakecontroloftheOASIS.PeoplewilljumpatachancetohelpbringtheSixersdown.Andwhatgunterisgonnapassupachancetofightinsuchanepic,history-makingbattle?”

“Butwon’ttheclansthinkwe’rejusttryingtomanipulatethem?”

Shotosaid.“Sothatwecanreachthegateourselves?”

“Ofcourse,”Isaid.“Butmostofthemhavealreadygivenup.EveryoneknowstheendoftheHuntisathand.Don’tyouthinkmostpeoplewouldratherseeoneofuswinthecontest,insteadofSorrentoandtheSixers?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd310

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:311

Art3misconsidereditforamoment.“You’reright.Thate-mailjustmightwork.”

“Z,”Aechsaid,slappingmeontheback,“youareanevil,sublimegenius!Whenthate-mailgoesout,themediawillgoapeshit!Thewordwillspreadlikewildfire.Bythistimetomorrow,everyavatarintheOASISwillbeheadedtoChthonia.”

“Let’shopeso,”Isaid.

“Oh,they’llshowup,allright,”Art3missaid.“Buthowmanyofthemwillactuallyfight,oncetheyseewhatwe’reupagainst?Mostofthemwillprobablysetuplawnchairsandeatpopcornwhiletheywatchusgetourasseskicked.”

“That’sdefinitelyapossibility,”Isaid.“Buttheclanswillhelpus,forsure.They’vegotnothingtolose.Andwedon’thavetodefeattheentireSixerarmy.Wejusthavetopunchaholethroughit,getinsidethecastle,andreachthegate.”

“Threeofushavetoreachthegate,”Aechsaid.“Ifonlyoneortwoofusmakeitinside,we’rescrewed.”

“Correct,”Isaid.“Soweshouldalltryextremelyhardnottogetkilled.”

Art3misandAechbothlaughednervously.Shotojustshookhishead.

“Evenifwegetthegateopen,westillhavetocontendwiththegateitself,”

hesaid.“It’sboundtobehardertoclearthanthefirsttwo.”

“Let’sworryaboutthegatelater,”Isaid.“Oncewereachit.”

“Fine,”Shotosaid.“Let’sdothisthing.”

“Isecondthat,”Aechsaid.

“So,youtwoareactuallygonnagoalongwiththis?”Art3missaid.

“Yougotabetteridea,sister?”Aechasked.

Sheshrugged.“No.Notreally.”

“OKthen,”Aechsaid.“It’ssettled.”

Iclosedthee-mail.“I’msendingeachofyouacopyofthismessage,”Isaid.“Startsendingitouttonight,toeveryoneonyourcontactlist.Postitonyourblogs.BroadcastitonyourPOVchannels.We’vegotthirty-sixhourstospreadtheword.ThatshouldbeenoughtimeforeveryonetogearupandgettheiravatarstoChthonia.”

“AssoonastheSixerscatchwindofthis,they’llstartpreparingforanassault,”Art3missaid.“They’regonnapulloutallthestops.”

“Theymightjustlaughitoff,”Isaid.“Theythinktheirshieldisimpregnable.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd311

5/24/112:07PM

312:ErnestCline

“Itis,”Art3missaid.“SoIhopeyou’rerightaboutbeingabletoshutitdown.”

“Don’tworry.”

“WhywouldIbeworried?”Art3missnapped.“Maybeyou’veforgotten,butI’mhomelessandontherunformyliferightnow!I’mcurrentlyloggedinfromapublicterminalatanairport,payingforbandwidthbytheminute.Ican’tfightawarfromhere,muchlesstrytocleartheThirdGate.AndIdon’thaveanywheretogo.”

Shotonodded.“Idon’tthinkIcanstaywhereIameither.I’minarentedboothatapublicmangacafeinOsaka.Idon’thavemuchprivacy.

AndIdon’tthinkit’ssafeformetostayhereiftheSixershaveagentsoutlookingforme.”

Art3mislookedatme.“Anysuggestions?”

“Ihatetobreakittoyouguys,butI’mhomelessandloggedinfromapublicterminalrightnowtoo,”Isaid.“I’vebeenhidingoutfromtheSixersforoverayear,remember?”

“I’vegotanRV,”Aechsaid.“You’reallwelcometocrashwithme.ButIdon’tthinkIcanmakeittoColumbus,Vancouver,andJapaninthenextthirty-sixhours.”

“IthinkImightbeabletohelpyouguysout,”adeepvoicesaid.

Wealljumpedandturnedaroundjustintimetoseeatall,male,gray-hairedavatarappeardirectlybehindus.ItwastheGreatandPowerfulOg.Ogden

Morrow’savatar.Andhedidn’tmaterializeslowly,thewayanavatarnormallydidwhenloggingintoachatroom.Hesimplypoppedintoexistence,asifhehadbeenthereallalongandhadonlynowdecidedtomakehimselfvisible.

“HaveanyofyoueverbeentoOregon?”hesaid.“It’slovelythistimeofyear.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd312

5/24/112:07PM

WeallstaredatOgdenMorrowinstunnedsilence.

“Howdidyougetinhere?”Aechfinallyasked,oncehe’dmanagedtopickhisjawupoffthefloor.“Thisisaprivatechatroom.”

“Yes,Iknow,”Morrowsaid,lookingabitembarrassed.“I’mafraidI’vebeeneavesdroppingonthefourofyouforquitesometimenow.AndIhopeyou’llacceptmysincereapologiesforinvadingyourprivacy.Ididitwithonlythebestintentions,Ipromiseyou.”

“Withallduerespect,sir,”Art3missaid.“Youdidn’tanswerhisquestion.Howdidyougainaccesstothischatroomwithoutaninvitation?

Andwithoutanyofusevenknowingyouwerehere?”

“Forgiveme,”hesaid.“Icanseewhythismightconcernyou.Butyouneedn’tworry.Myavatarhasmanyuniquepowers,includingtheabilitytoenterprivatechatroomsuninvited.”AsMorrowspoke,hewalkedovertooneofAech’sbookshelvesandbegantobrowsethroughsomevintagerole-playinggamesupplements.“PriortotheoriginallaunchoftheOASIS,whenJimandIcreatedouravatars,wegaveourselvessuperuseraccesstotheentiresimulation.Inadditiontobeingimmortalandinvincible,ouravatarscouldgoprettymuchanywhereanddoprettymuchanything.NowthatAnorakisgone,myavataristheonlyonewiththesepowers.”Heturnedtofacethefourofus.“Nooneelsehastheabilitytoeavesdroponyou.EspeciallynottheSixers.OASISchat-roomencryptionprotocolsarerocksolid,Iassureyou.”Hechuckledlightly.“My

presenceherenotwithstanding.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd313

5/24/112:07PM

314:ErnestCline

“Heknockedoverthatstackofcomicbooks!”IsaidtoAech.“Afterourfirstmeetinginhere,remember?Itoldyouitwasn’tasoftwareglitch.”

Ognoddedandgaveusaguiltyshrug.“Thatwasme.Icanbeprettyclumsyattimes.”

Therewasanotherbriefsilence,duringwhichIfinallyworkedupthecouragetospeaktoMorrowdirectly.“Mr.Morrow—,”Ibegan.

“Please,”Morrowsaid,raisingahand.“CallmeOg.”

“Allright,”Isaid,laughingnervously.Evenunderthecircumstances,Iwascompletelystarstruck.Icouldn’tbelieveIwasactuallyaddressingtheOgdenMorrow.“Og.Wouldyoumindtellinguswhyyou’vebeeneavesdroppingonus?”

“BecauseIwanttohelpyou,”hereplied.“AndfromwhatIheardamomentago,itsoundsasthoughyoucouldallusemyhelp.”Weallexchangednervouslooks,andOgseemedtodetectourskepticism.“Please,don’tmisunderstandme,”hecontinued.“I’mnotgoingtogiveyouanyclues,orprovideyouwithanyinformationtohelpyoureachtheegg.Thatwouldruinallthefun,wouldn’tit?”Hewalkedbackovertous,andhistoneturnedserious.“Justbeforehedied,IpromisedJimthat,inhisabsence,IwoulddoeverythingIcouldtoprotectthespiritandintegrityofhiscontest.That’swhyI’mhere.”

“But,sir—Og,”Isaid.“Inyourautobiography,youwrotethatyouandJamesHallidaydidn’tspeakduringthelasttenyearsofhislife.”

Morrowgavemeanamusedsmile.“Comeon,kid,”hesaid.“Youcan’tbelieveeverythingyouread.”Helaughed.“Actually,thatstatementwasmostlytrue.I

didn’tspeakwithJimforthelastdecadeofhislife.Notuntiljustafewweeksbeforehedied.”Hepaused,asifcallingupthememory.

“Atthetime,Ididn’tevenknowhewassick.Hejustcalledmeupoutoftheblue,andwemetinaprivatechatroom,muchlikethisone.Thenhetoldmeabouthisillness,thecontest,andwhathehadplanned.Hewasworriedtheremightstillbeafewbugsinthegates.Orthatcomplicationsmightariseafterhewasgonethatwouldpreventthecontestfromproceedingashe’dintended.”

“YoumeanliketheSixers?”Shotoasked.

“Exactly,”Ogsaid.“LiketheSixers.SoJimaskedmetomonitorthecontest,andtointerveneifiteverbecamenecessary.”Hescratchedhisbeard.“Tobehonest,Ididn’treallywanttheresponsibility.Butitwasthedyingwishofmyoldestfriend,soIagreed.Andforthepastsixyears,I’veClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd314

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:315

watchedfromthesidelines.AndeventhoughtheSixershavedoneeverythingtostacktheoddsagainstyou,somehowyoufourhavepersevered.

Butnow,afterhearingyoudescribeyourcurrentcircumstances,Ithinkthetimehasfinallycomeformetotakeaction,tomaintaintheintegrityofJim’sgame.”

Art3mis,Shoto,Aech,andIallexchangedlooksofamazement,asifseekingreassurancefromoneanotherthatthiswasallreallyhappening.

“IwanttoofferthefourofyousanctuaryatmyhomehereinOregon,”

Ogsaid.“Fromhere,you’llbeabletoexecuteyourplanandcompleteyourquestinsafety,withouthavingtoworryaboutSixeragentstrackingyoudownandkickinginyourdoor.Icanprovideeachofyouwithastate-of-the-artimmersionrig,afiber-opticconnectiontotheOASIS,andanythingelseyoumightneed.”

Anotherstunnedsilence.“Thankyou,sir!”Ifinallyblurtedout,resistingtheurgetofalltomykneesandbowrepeatedly.

“It’stheleastIcando.”

“That’sanincrediblykindoffer,Mr.Morrow,”Shotosaid.“ButIliveinJapan.”

“Iknow,Shoto,”Ogsaid.“I’vealreadycharteredaprivatejetforyou.

It’swaitingattheOsakaairport.Ifyousendmeyourcurrentlocation,I’llarrangeforalimotopickyouupandtakeyoutotherunway.”

Shotowasspeechlessforasecond;thenhebowedlow.“Arigato,Morrow-san.”

“Don’tmentionit,kid.”HeturnedtoArt3mis.“Younglady,Iunderstandthatyou’recurrentlyattheVancouverairport?I’vemadetravelarrangementsforyou,aswell.Adriveriscurrentlywaitingforyouinthebaggageclaimarea,holdingasignwiththename‘Benatar’onit.He’lltakeyoutotheplaneI’vecharteredforyou.”

ForasecondIthoughtArt3mismightbowtoo.ButthensheranoverandthrewherarmsaroundOginabearhug.“Thankyou,Og,”shesaid.

“Thankyou,thankyou,thankyou!”

“You’rewelcome,dear,”hesaidwithanembarrassedlaugh.Whenshefinallyreleasedhim,heturnedtoAechandme.“Aech,Iunderstandthatyouhaveavehicle,andthatyou’recurrentlyinthevicinityofPittsburgh?”Aechnodded.“Ifyouwouldn’tminddrivingtoColumbustoretrieveyourfriendParzivalhere,I’llarrangeforajettopickupbothofyouattheColumbusairport.Thatis,ifyouboysdon’tmindsharingaride?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd315

5/24/112:07PM

316:ErnestCline

“No,thatsoundsperfect,”Aechsaid,glancingatmesideways.

“Thanks,Og.”

“Yes,thankyou,”Irepeated.“You’realifesaver.”

“Ihopeso.”Hegavemeagrimsmile,thenturnedtoaddresseveryone.

“Safetravels,allofyou.I’llseeyousoon.”Andthenhevanished,justasquicklyashe’dappeared.

“Well,thisblows,”Isaid,turningtoAech.“Art3misandShotogetlimos,andIhavetobumaridetotheairportwithyouruglyass?Insomeshit-heapRV?”

“It’snotashit-heap,”Aechsaid,laughing.“Andyou’rewelcometotakeacab,asshole.”

“Thisisgonnabeinteresting,”Isaid,stealingaquickglanceatArt3mis.

“Thefourofusarefinallygoingtomeetinperson.”

“Itwillbeanhonor,”Shotosaid.“I’mlookingforwardtoit.”

“Yeah,”Art3missaid,lockingeyeswithme.“Ican’twait.”

AfterShotoandArt3misloggedout,IgaveAechmycurrentlocation.“It’saPlugfranchise.Callmewhenyougethere,andI’llmeetyououtfront.”

“Willdo,”hesaid.“Listen,Ishouldwarnyou.Idon’tlookanythinglikemyavatar.”

“So?Whodoes?I’mnotreallythistall.Ormuscular.Andmynoseisslightlybigger—”

“I’mjustwarningyou.Meetingmemightbe...kindofashockforyou.”

“OK.Thenwhydon’tyoujusttellmewhatyoulooklikerightnow?”

“I’malreadyontheroad,”hesaid,ignoringmyquestion.“I’llseeyouinafew

hours,OK?”

“OK.Drivesafe,amigo.”

DespitewhatI’dsaidtoAech,knowingthatIwasabouttomeethiminpersonafteralltheseyearsmadememorenervousthanIwantedtoadmit.ButitwasnothingcomparedtotheapprehensionIalreadyfeltbuildinginsidemeattheprospectofmeetingArt3misoncewereachedOregon.Tryingtopicturetheactualmomentfilledmewithamixtureofexcitementandabjectterror.Whatwouldshebelikeinperson?WasthephotoI’dseeninherfileactuallyafake?DidIstillhaveanykindofchancewithheratall?

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd316

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:317

WithaHerculeaneffort,Imanagedtoputheroutofmymindbyforcingmyselftofocusontheapproachingbattle.

AssoonasIloggedoutofAech’sBasement,Isentoutmy“CalltoArms”e-mailasaglobalannouncementtoeveryOASISuser.Knowingmostofthosee-mailswouldn’tgetthroughthespamfilters,Ialsopostedittoeveryguntermessageboard.ThenImadeashortvidcaprecordingofmyavatarreadingitaloudandsetittorunonacontinuouslooponmyPOVchannel.

Thewordspreadquickly.Withinanhour,ourplantoassaultCastleAnorakwasthetopstoryoneverysinglenewsfeed,accompaniedbyheadlineslikeguntersdeclareall-outwaronthesixersandtopguntersaccuseioiofkidnappingandmurderandisthehuntforhalliday’seggfinallyover?

SomeofthenewsfeedswerealreadyrunningthevideoclipofDaito’smurderI’dsentthem,alongwiththetextofSorrento’smemo,citingananonymoussourceforboth.Sofar,IOIhaddeclinedtocommentoneither.Bynow,SorrentowouldknowI’dsomehowgainedaccesstotheSixers’privatedatabase.IwishedIcouldseehisfacewhenhelearnedhowI’ddoneit—thatI’dspentanentireweekjustafewfloorsbelowhisoffice.

Ispentthenextfewhoursoutfittingmyavatarandpreparingmyselfmentallyforwhatwastocome.WhenIcouldnolongerkeepmyeyesopen,IdecidedtocatchaquicknapwhileIwaitedforAechtoarrive.Idisabledtheauto-log-outfeatureonmyaccount,thendriftedoffinthehapticchairwithmynewjacketdrapedovermeasablanket,clutchinginonehandthepistolI’dpurchasedearlierthatday.

IwokewithastartsometimelatertothesoundofAech’sringtone.Hewascallingtoletmeknowhe’darrivedoutside.Iclimbedoutoftherig,collectedmythings,andreturnedtherentedgearatthefrontdesk.WhenIsteppedoutintothestreet,Isawthatnighthadfallen.Thefrozenairhitmelikeabucketoficewater.

Aech’stinyRVwasjustafewyardsaway,parkedatthecurb.Itwasamocha-coloredSunRider,abouttwentyfeetlong,andatleasttwodecadesold.ApatchworkofsolarcellscoveredtheRV’sroofandmostofitsbody,alongwithaliberalamountofrust.Thewindowsweretintedblack,soIcouldn’tseeinside.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd317

5/24/112:07PM

318:ErnestCline

Itookadeepbreathandcrossedtheslush-coveredsidewalk,feelingastrangecombinationofdreadandexcitement.AsIapproachedtheRV,adoornearthecenteroftherightsideslidopenandashortstepladderextendedtothepavement.Iclimbedinsideandthedoorslidshutbehindme.IfoundmyselfintheRV’stinykitchen.Itwasdarkexceptfortherunninglightssetintothecarpetedfloor.Tomyleft,Isawasmallbedroomareaattheback,wedgedintoaloftabovetheRV’sbatterycompartment.

Iturnedandwalkedslowlyacrossthedarkenedkitchen,thenpulledbackthebeadedcurtaincoveringthedoorwaytothecab.

AheavysetAfricanAmericangirlsatintheRV’sdriverseat,clutchingthewheel

tightlyandstaringstraightahead.Shewasaboutmyage,withshort,kinkyhairandchocolate-coloredskinthatappearediridescentinthesoftglowofthedashboardindicators.ShewaswearingavintageRush2112concertT-shirt,andthenumberswerewarpedaroundherlargebosom.Shealsohadonfadedblackjeansandapairofstuddedcombatboots.Sheappearedtobeshivering,eventhoughitwasniceandwarminthecab.

Istoodthereforamoment,staringatherinsilence,waitingforhertoacknowledgemypresence.Eventually,sheturnedandsmiledatme,anditwasasmileIrecognizedimmediately.ThatCheshiregrinI’dseenthousandsoftimesbefore,onthefaceofAech’savatar,duringthecountlessnightswe’dspenttogetherintheOASIS,tellingbadjokesandwatchingbadmovies.Andhersmilewasn’ttheonlythingIfoundfamiliar.Ialsorecognizedthesetofhereyesandthelinesofherface.Therewasnodoubtinmymind.Theyoungwomansittinginfrontofmewasmybestfriend,Aech.

Awaveofemotionwashedoverme.Shockgavewaytoasenseofbetrayal.Howcouldhe—she—deceivemealltheseyears?IfeltmyfaceflushwithembarrassmentasIrememberedalloftheadolescentintimaciesI’dsharedwithAech.ApersonI’dtrustedimplicitly.SomeoneIthoughtIknew.

WhenIdidn’tsayanything,hereyesdroppedtoherbootsandstayedonthem.Isatdownheavilyinthepassengerseat,stillstaringoverather,stillunsureofwhattosay.Shekeptstealingglancesatme;thenhereyeswoulddartawaynervously.Shewasstilltrembling.

WhateverangerorbetrayalIfeltquicklyevaporated.

Icouldn’thelpmyself.Istartedtolaugh.Therewasnomeannessinit,Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd318

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:319

andIknewshecouldtellthat,becausehershouldersrelaxedabitandsheletoutarelievedsigh.Thenshestartedtolaughtoo.Halflaughingandhalfcrying,Ithought.

“Hey,Aech,”Isaid,onceourlaughtersubsided.“Howgoesit?”

“It’sgoinggood,Z,”shesaid.“Allsunshineandrainbows.”Hervoicewasfamiliartoo.Justnotquiteasdeepasitwasonline.Allthistime,she’dbeenusingsoftwaretodisguiseit.

“Well,”Isaid.“Lookatus.Hereweare.”

“Yeah,”Aechreplied.“Hereweare.”

Anuncomfortablesilencedescended.Ihesitatedamoment,unsureofwhattodo.ThenIfollowedmyinstincts,crossedthesmallspacebetweenus,andputmyarmsaroundher.“It’sgoodtoseeyou,oldfriend,”Isaid.

“Thanksforcomingtogetme.”

Shereturnedthehug.“It’sgoodtoseeyoutoo,”shesaid.AndIcouldtellshemeantit.

Iletgoofherandsteppedback.“Christ,Aech,”Isaid,smiling.“Iknewyouwerehidingsomething.ButIneverimagined...”

“What?”shesaid,abitdefensively.“Youneverimaginedwhat?”

“ThatthefamousAech,renownedgunterandthemostfearedandruthlessarenacombatantintheentireOASIS,was,inreality,a...”

“Afatblackchick?”

“Iwasgoingtosay‘youngAfricanAmericanwoman.’”

Herexpressiondarkened.“There’sareasonInevertoldyou,youknow.”

“AndI’msureit’sagoodone,”Isaid.“Butitreallydoesn’tmatter.”

“Itdoesn’t?”

“Ofcoursenot.You’remybestfriend,Aech.Myonlyfriend,tobehonest.”

“Well,Istillwanttoexplain.”

“OK.Butcanitwaituntilwe’reintheair?”Isaid.“We’vegotalongwaytotravel.AndI’llfeelalotsaferoncewe’veleftthiscityinthedust.”

“We’reonourway,amigo,”shesaid,puttingtheRVingear.

AechfollowedOg’sdirectionstoaprivatehangarneartheColumbusairport,whereasmallluxuryjetwaswaitingforus.OghadarrangedforAech’sRVtobestoredinanearbyhangar,butithadbeenherhomeformanyyears,andIcouldtellshewasnervousaboutleavingitbehind.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd319

5/24/112:07PM

320:ErnestCline

Webothstaredatthejetinwonderasweapproachedit.I’dseenairplanesintheskybefore,ofcourse,butI’dneverseenoneupclose.Travelingbyjetwassomethingonlyrichpeoplecouldafford.ThatOgcouldaffordtocharterthreedifferentjetstoretrieveuswithoutbattinganeyelashwasatestamenttojusthowinsanelywealthyhemustbe.

Thejetwascompletelyautomated,sotherewasnocrewonboard.Wewereallalone.Theplacidvoiceoftheautopilotwelcomedusaboard,thentoldustostrapinandpreparefortakeoff.Wewereupintheairwithinminutes.

Itwasthefirsttimeeitherofushadeverflown,andwebothspentthefirsthouroftheflightstaringoutthewindows,overwhelmedbytheview,aswehurtledwestwardthroughtheatmosphereattenthousandfeet,onourwaytoOregon.Finally,oncesomeofthenoveltyhadwornoff,IcouldtellthatAechwasreadytotalk.

“OK,Aech,”Isaid.“Tellmeyourstory.”

SheflashedherCheshiregrinandtookadeepbreath.“Thewholethingwasoriginallymymother’sidea,”shesaid.Thenshelaunchedintoanab-breviated

versionofherlifestory.Herrealname,shesaid,wasHelenHarris,andshewasonlyafewmonthsolderthanIwas.She’dgrownupinAtlanta,raisedbyasinglemother.HerfatherhaddiedinAfghanistanwhenshewasstillababy.Hermother,Marie,workedfromhome,inanonlinedata-processingcenter.InMarie’sopinion,theOASISwasthebestthingthathadeverhappenedtobothwomenandpeopleofcolor.Fromtheverystart,Mariehadusedawhitemaleavatartoconductallofheronlinebusiness,becauseofthemarkeddifferenceitmadeinhowshewastreatedandtheopportunitiesshewasgiven.

WhenAechfirstloggedintotheOASIS,shefollowedhermother’sadviceandcreatedaCaucasianmaleavatar.“H”hadbeenhermother’snicknameforhersinceshewasababy,soshe’ddecidedtouseitasthenameofheronlinepersona.Afewyearslater,whenshestartedattendingschoolonline,hermotherliedaboutherdaughter’sraceandgenderontheapplication.Aechwasrequiredtoprovideaphotoforherschoolprofile,soshe’dsubmittedaphotorealisticrenderingofhermaleavatar’sface,whichshe’dmodeledafterherownfeatures.

Aechtoldmethatshehadn’tseenorspokentohermothersinceleavinghomeonhereighteenthbirthday.ThatwasthedayAechhadfinallycomeouttohermotherabouthersexuality.Atfirst,hermotherrefusedtobe-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd320

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:321

lieveshewasgay.ButthenHelenrevealedthatshe’dbeendatingagirlshemetonlinefornearlyayear.

AsAechexplainedallofthis,Icouldtellshewasstudyingmyreaction.

Iwasn’tallthatsurprised,really.Overthepastfewyears,AechandIhaddiscussedourmutualadmirationforthefemaleformonnumerousoccasions.IwasactuallyrelievedtoknowthatAechhadn’tbeendeceivingme,atleastnotonthataccount.

“Howdidyourmotherreactwhenshefoundoutyouhadagirlfriend?”

Iasked.

“Well,itturnsoutthatmymotherhadherownsetofdeep-seatedprej-udices,”Aechsaid.“Shekickedmeoutofthehouseandsaidsheneverwantedtoseemeagain.Iwashomelessforalittlewhile.Ilivedinaseriesofshelters.ButeventuallyIearnedenoughcompetingintheOASISarenaleaguestobuymyRV,andI’vebeenlivinginiteversince.IusuallyonlystopmovingwhentheRV’sbatteriesneedtorecharge.”

Aswecontinuedtotalk,goingthroughthemotionsofgettingtoknoweachother,Irealizedthatwealreadydidknoweachother,aswellasanytwopeoplecould.We’dknowneachotherforyears,inthemostintimatewaypossible.We’dconnectedonapurelymentallevel.Iunderstoodher,trustedher,andlovedherasadearfriend.Noneofthathadchanged,orcouldbechangedbyanythingasinconsequentialashergender,orskincolor,orsexualorientation.

Therestoftheflightseemedtogobyinablink.AechandIquicklyfellintoouroldfamiliarrhythm,andbeforelongitwaslikewewerebackintheBasement,trash-talkingeachotheroveragameofQuakeorJoust.

AnyfearsIhadabouttheresiliencyofourfriendshipintherealworldhadvanishedbythetimeourjettoucheddownonOg’sprivaterunwayinOregon.

We’dbeenflyingwestacrossthecountry,justafewhoursaheadofthesunrise,soitwasstilldarkwhenwelanded.AechandIbothfrozeinourtracksaswesteppedofftheplane,gazinginwonderatthescenearoundus.Eveninthedimmoonlight,theviewwasbreathtaking.Thedark,toweringsilhouettesoftheWallowaMountainssurroundedusonallsides.

Rowsofbluerunwaylightsstretchedoutalongthevalleyfloorbehindus,delineatingOg’sprivatelandingstrip.Directlyahead,asteepcobblestonestaircaseattheedgeoftherunwayleduptoagrand,floodlitmansionconstructedonaplateaunearthebaseofthemountainrange.SeveralClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd321

5/24/112:07PM

322:ErnestCline

waterfallswerevisibleinthedistance,spillingoffthepeaksbeyondMorrow’smansion.

“ItlooksjustlikeRivendell,”Aechsaid,takingthewordsrightoutofmymouth.

Inodded.“ItlooksexactlylikeRivendellintheLordoftheRingsmovies,”Isaid,stillstaringupatitinawe.“Og’swifewasabigTolkienfan,remember?Hebuiltthisplaceforher.”

Weheardanelectrichumbehindusasthejet’sstaircaseretractedandthehatchclosed.Theenginespoweredbackupandthejetrotated,preparingtotakeoffagain.Westoodandwatcheditlaunchbackupintotheclear,starrysky.Thenweturnedandbegantomountthestaircaseleadinguptothehouse.Whenwefinallyreachedthetop,OgdenMorrowwastherewaitingforus.

“Welcome,myfriends!”Ogbellowed,extendingbothhishandsingreeting.Hewasdressedinaplaidbathrobeandbunnyslippers.“Welcometomyhome!”

“Thankyou,sir,”Aechsaid.“Thanksforinvitingushere.”

“Ah,youmustbeAech,”hereplied,claspingherhand.Ifhewassurprisedby

herappearance,hedidn’tshowit.“Irecognizeyourvoice.”Hegaveherawink,followedbyabearhug.Thenheturnedandhuggedme,too.“AndyoumustbeWade—Imean,Parzival!Welcome!Welcome!It’strulyanhonortomeetyouboth!”

“Thehonorisours,”Isaid.“Wereallycan’tthankyouenoughforhelpingus.”

“You’vealreadythankedmeenough,sostopit!”hesaid.Heturnedandledusacrossanexpansivegreenlawn,towardhisenormoushouse.“Ican’ttellyouhowgooditistohavevisitors.Sadtosay,I’vebeenallaloneheresinceKiradied.”Hewassilentamoment;thenhelaughed.“Aloneexceptformycooks,maids,andgardeners,ofcourse.Buttheyallliveheretoo,sotheydon’treallycountasvisitors.”

NeitherInorAechknewhowtoreply,sowejustkeptsmilingandnodding.Eventually,Iworkedupthecouragetospeak.“Havetheothersarrivedyet?ShotoandArt3mis?”

SomethingaboutthewayIsaid“Art3mis”madeMorrowchuckle,longandloud.Afterafewseconds,IrealizedAechwaslaughingatmetoo.

“What?”Isaid.“What’ssofunny?”

“Yes,”Ogsaid,grinning.“Art3misarrivedfirst,severalhoursago,andShoto’splanegothereaboutthirtyminutesbeforeyouarrived.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd322

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:323

“Arewegoingtomeetthemnow?”Iasked,doinganextremelypoorjobofhidingmyapprehension.

Ogshookhishead.“Art3misfeltthatmeetingyoutworightnowwouldbeanunnecessarydistraction.Shewantedtowaituntilafterthe

‘bigevent.’AndShotoseemedtoagree.”Hestudiedmeforamoment.“Itprobablyisforthebest,youknow.You’veallgotabigdayaheadofyou.”

Inodded,feelingastrangecombinationofreliefanddisappointment.

“Wherearetheynow?”Aechasked.

Ograisedafisttriumphantlyintheair.“They’realreadyloggedin,preparingforyourassaultontheSixers!”Hisvoiceechoedacrossthegroundsandoffthehighstonewallsofhismansion.“Followme!Thehourdrawsnear!”

Og’senthusiasmpulledmebackintothemoment,andIfeltanervousknotforminthepitofmystomach.Wefollowedourbathrobedbenefac-toracrosstheexpansivemoonlitcourtyard.Asweapproachedthemainhouse,wepassedasmallgated-ingardenfilledwithflowers.Thegardenwasinastrangelocation,andIcouldn’tfigureoutitspurposeuntilIsawthelargetombstoneatitscenter.ThenIrealizeditmustbeKiraMorrow’sgrave.Buteveninthebrightmoonlight,itwasstilltoodarkformetomakeouttheinscriptionontheheadstone.

Ogledusthroughthemansion’slavishfrontentrance.Thelightswereoffinside,butinsteadofturningthemon,Morrowtookanhonest-to-Godtorchoffthewallandusedittoilluminateourway.Evenindimtorchlight,thegrandeuroftheplaceamazedme.Gianttapestriesandahugecollectionoffantasyartworkcoveredthewalls,whilegargoylestatuesandsuitsofarmorlinedthehallways.

AswefollowedOg,Iworkedupenoughcouragetospeaktohim.“Listen,Iknowthisprobablyisn’tthetime,”Isaid.“ButI’mahugefanofyourwork.IgrewupplayingHalcydoniaInteractive’seducationalgames.Theytaughtmehowtoread,write,domath,solvepuzzles...”Iproceededtorambleonaswewalked,ravingaboutallofmyfavoriteHalcydoniatitlesandgeekingoutonOginaclassicallyembarrassingfashion.

AechmusthavethoughtIwasbrown-nosing,becauseshesnickeredthroughoutmystammeringmonologue,butOgwasverycoolaboutit.

“That’swonderfultohear,”hesaid,seeminggenuinelypleased.“MywifeandIwereveryproudofthosegames.I’msogladyouhavefondmemoriesofthem.”

Weroundedacorner,andAechandIbothfrozebeforetheentranceof

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd323

5/24/112:07PM

324:ErnestCline

agiantroomfilledwithrowafterrowofoldvideogames.WebothknewitmustbeJamesHalliday’sclassicvideogamecollection—thecollectionhe’dwilledtoMorrowafterhisdeath.Ogglancedaroundandsawuslin-geringbytheentrance,thenhurriedbacktoretrieveus.

“Ipromisetogiveyouatourlater,whenalltheexcitementisover,”Ogsaid,hisbreathingabitlabored.Hewasmovingquicklyforamanhisageandsize.HeledusdownaspiralstonestaircasetoanelevatorthatcarriedusdownseveralmorefloorstoOg’sbasement.Thedecorherewasmuchmoremodern.WefollowedOgthroughamazeofcarpetedhallwaysuntilwereachedarowofsevencirculardoorways,eachnumbered.

“Andhereweare!”Morrowsaid,gesturingwiththetorch.“ThesearemyOASISimmersionbays.They’realltop-of-the-lineHabashawrigs.

OIR-Ninety-fourhundreds.”

“Ninety-fourhundreds?Nokidding?”Aechletoutalowwhistle.

“Wicked.”

“Wherearetheothers?”Iasked,lookingaroundnervously.

“Art3misandShotoarealreadyinbaystwoandthree,”hesaid.“Bayoneismine.Youtwocantakeyourpickoftheothers.”

Istaredatthedoors,wonderingwhichoneArt3miswasbehind.

Ogmotionedtotheendofthehall.“You’llfindhapticsuitsofallsizesinthedressingrooms.Now,getyourselvessuitedandbooted!”

HesmiledwidewhenAechandIemergedfromthedressingroomsafew

minuteslater,eachdressedinbrand-newhapticsuitsandgloves.

“Excellent!”Ogsaid.“Nowgrababayandlogin.Theclockisticking!”

Aechturnedtofaceme.Icouldtellshewantedtosaysomething,butwordsseemedtofailher.Afterafewsecondsshestuckoutherglovedhand.Itookit.

“Goodluck,Aech,”Isaid.

“Goodluck,Z,”shereplied.ThensheturnedtoOgandsaid,“Thanksagain,Og.”Beforehecouldrespond,shestoodonhertiptoesandkissedhimonthecheek.Thenshedisappearedthroughthedoortobayfourandithissedshutbehindher.

Oggrinnedafterher,thenturnedtofaceme.“Thewholeworldisrootingforthefourofyou.Trynottoletthemdown.”

“We’lldoourbest.”

“Iknowyouwill.”HeofferedmehishandandIshookit.

Itookasteptowardmyimmersionbay,thenturnedback.“Og,canIaskyouonequestion?”Isaid.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd324

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:325

Heraisedaneyebrow.“Ifyou’regoingtoaskmewhat’sinsidetheThirdGate,Ihavenoidea,”hesaid.“AndevenifIdid,Iwouldn’ttellyou.Youshouldknowthat....”

Ishookmyhead.“No,that’snotit.IwantedtoaskwhatitwasthatendedyourfriendshipwithHalliday.InalltheresearchI’vedone,I’veneverbeenabletofindout.Whathappened?”

Morrowstudiedmeforamoment.He’dbeenaskedthisquestionininterviews

manytimesbeforeandhadalwaysignoredit.Idon’tknowwhyhedecidedtotellme.Maybehe’dbeenwaitingalltheseyearstotellsomeone.

“ItwasbecauseofKira.Mywife.”Hepausedamoment,thenclearedhisthroatandcontinued.“Likeme,he’dbeeninlovewithhersincehighschool.Ofcourse,heneverhadthecouragetoactonit.Sosheneverknewhowhefeltabouther.AndneitherdidI.Hedidn’ttellmeaboutituntilthelasttimeIspoketohim,rightbeforehedied.Eventhen,itwashardforhimtocommunicatewithme.Jimwasneververygoodwithpeople,orwithexpressinghisemotions.”

Inoddedsilentlyandwaitedforhimtocontinue.

“EvenafterKiraandIgotengaged,IthinkJimstillharboredsomefantasyofstealingherawayfromme.Butoncewegotmarried,heabandonedthatnotion.Hetoldmehe’dstoppedspeakingtomebecauseoftheoverwhelm-ingjealousyhefelt.Kirawastheonlywomanheeverloved.”Morrow’svoicecaughtinhisthroat.“IcanunderstandwhyJimfeltthatway.Kirawasveryspecial.Itwasimpossiblenottofallinlovewithher.”Hesmiledatme.“Youknowwhatit’sliketomeetsomeonelikethat,don’tyou?”

“Ido,”Isaid.Then,whenIrealizedhehadnomoretosayonthesubject,Isaid,“Thankyou,Mr.Morrow.Thankyoufortellingmeallofthat.”

“You’requitewelcome,”hesaid.Thenhewalkedovertohisimmersionbay,andthedooririsedopen.Inside,Icouldseethathisrighadbeenmodifiedtoincludeseveralstrangecomponents,includinganOASISconsolemodifiedtolooklikeavintageCommodore64.Heglancedbackatme.“Goodluck,Parzival.You’regoingtoneedit.”

“Whatareyougoingtodo?”Iasked.“Duringthefight?”

“Sitbackandwatch,ofcourse!”hesaid.“Thislookstobethemostepicbattleinvideogamehistory.”Hegrinnedatmeonelasttime,thensteppedthroughthedoorandwasgone,leavingmealoneinthedimlylithallway.

IspentafewminutesthinkingabouteverythingMorrowhadtoldme.

ThenIwalkedovertomyownimmersionbayandsteppedinside.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd325

5/24/112:07PM

326:ErnestCline

Itwasasmallsphericalroom.Agleaminghapticchairwassuspendedonajointedhydraulicarmattachedtotheceiling.Therewasnoomnidirectionaltreadmill,becausetheroomitselfservedthatfunction.Whileyouwereloggedin,youcouldwalkorruninanydirectionandthespherewouldrotatearoundandbeneathyou,preventingyoufromevertouchingthewall.Itwaslikebeinginsideagianthamsterball.

Iclimbedintothechairandfeltitadjusttofitthecontoursofmybody.

Aroboticarmextendedfromthechairandslippedabrand-newOculancevisorontomyface.It,too,adjustedsothatitfitperfectly.Thevisorscannedmyretinasandthesystempromptedmetospeakmynewpassphrase:“ReindeerFlotillaSetecAstronomy.”

Itookadeepbreathasthesystemloggedmein.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd326

5/24/112:07PM

Iwasreadytorock.

Myavatarwasbuffedtotheeyeballsandarmedtotheteeth.IwaspackingasmanymagicitemsandasmuchfirepowerasIcouldsqueezeintomyinventory.

Everythingwasinplace.Ourplanwasinmotion.Itwastimetogo.

Ienteredmystronghold’shangarandpressedabuttononthewalltoopenthelaunchdoors.Theyslidback,slowlyrevealingthelaunchtunnelleadinguptoFalco’ssurface.Iwalkedtotheendoftherunway,pastmyX-wingandthe

Vonnegut.Iwouldn’tbetakingeitherofthemtoday.Theywerebothgoodships,withformidableweaponsanddefenses,butneithercraftwouldoffermuchprotectionintheepicshitstormthatwasabouttounfoldonChthonia.Fortunately,Inowhadanewmodeoftransporta-tion.

Iremovedthetwelve-inchLeopardonrobotfrommyavatar’sinventoryandsetitdowngentlyontherunway.ShortlybeforeI’dbeenarrestedbyIOI,I’dtakensometimetoexaminethetoyLeopardonrobotandascertainitspowers.AsIsuspected,therobotwasactuallyapowerfulmagicalitem.Ithadn’ttakenmelongtofigureoutthecommandwordrequiredtoactivateit.JustlikeinToei’soriginalSupaidamanTVseries,yousummonedtherobotsimplybyshoutingitsname.Ididthisnow,takingtheprecautionofbackingawayfromtherobotagooddistancebeforeshouting“Leopardon!”

Iheardapiercingshriekthatsoundedlikerendingmetal.AsecondClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd327

5/24/112:07PM

328:ErnestCline

later,theonce-tinyrobothadgrowntoaheightofalmostahundredmeters.Thetopoftherobot’sheadnowprotrudedthroughtheopenlaunchdoorsinthehangarceiling.

Igazedupatthetoweringrobot,admiringtheattentiontodetailHallidayhadputintocodingit.EveryfeatureoftheoriginalJapanesemechhadbeenre-created,includingitsgiantgleamingswordandspiderweb-embossedshield.Atinyaccessdoorwassetintotherobot’smassiveleftfoot,anditopenedasIapproached,revealingasmallelevatorinside.Itcarriedmeupthroughtheinterioroftherobot’slegandtorso,tothecockpitlocatedinsideitsarmoredchest.AsIseatedmyselfinthecaptain’schair,Ispottedasilvercontrolbraceletinaclearcaseonthewall.Itookitoutandsnappeditontomyavatar’swrist.ThebraceletwouldallowmetousevoicecommandstocontroltherobotwhileIwasoutsideit.

Severalrowsofbuttonsweresetintothecommandconsoleinfrontofme,alllabeledinJapanese.Ipressedoneofthemandtheenginesroaredtolife.ThenI

hitthethrottleandthetwinrocketboostersineachoftherobot’sfeetignited,launchingitupward,outofmystrongholdandintoFalco’sstar-filledsky.

InoticedthatHallidayhadaddedanoldeight-tracktapeplayertothecockpitcontrolpanel.Therewasalsoarackofeight-tracktapesmountedovermyrightshoulder.Igrabbedoneandslappeditintothedeck.DirtyDeedsDoneDirtCheapbyAC/DCbegantoblastoutoftherobot’sinternalandexternalspeakers,solouditmademychairvibrate.

Assoonastherobotwasclearofmyhangar,Ishouted“ChangeMarveller!”intothecontrolbracelet(thevoicecommandsappearedtoworkonlyifyoushoutedthem).Therobot’slegs,arms,andheadfoldedinwardandlockedintonewpositions,transformingtherobotintoastarshipknownastheMarveller.Oncethetransformationwascomplete,IleftFalco’sorbitandsetacoursefortheneareststargate.

WhenIemergedfromthestargateinSectorTen,myradarscreenlituplikeaChristmastree.Thousandsofspacevehiclesofeverymakeandmodelwerecrawlingthroughthestarryblacknessaroundme,everythingfromsingle-seatercrafttogiantmoon-sizedfreighters.I’dneverseensomanystarshipsinoneplace.Asteadystreamofthempouredoutofthestargate,whileothersconvergedontheareafromeverydirectioninthesky.Alloftheshipsgraduallyfunneledtogether,formingalong,haphazardcaravanofvesselsstretchingtowardChthonia,atinyblue-brownorbClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd328

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:329

floatinginthedistance.ItlookedlikeeverysinglepersonintheOASIS

washeadedforCastleAnorak.Ifeltabriefsurgeofexhilaration,eventhoughIknewArt3mis’swarningmightstillprovetrue—therewasachancemostoftheseavatarswerehereonlytowatchtheshowandhadnointentionofactuallyriskingtheirlivestofighttheSixers.

Art3mis.Afterallthistime,shewasnowinaroomjustafewfeetawayfrom

me.Wewouldactuallybemeetinginpersonassoonasthisfightwasover.Thethoughtshouldhaveterrifiedme,butinsteadIfeltazencalmwashoverme:WhateverwasgoingtohappendownonChthonia,everythingI’driskedhadalreadybeenworthit.

ItransformedtheMarvellerbackintoitsrobotconfiguration,thenjoinedthelongparadeofspacecraft.Myshipstoodoutinthevastarrayofvessels,sinceitwastheonlygiantrobot.Acloudofsmallershipsquicklyformedaroundme,pilotedbycuriousavatarszoominginforacloserlookatLeopardon.Ihadtomutemycomlinkbecausesomanydifferentpeopleweretryingtohailme,askingwhothehellIwasandwhereI’dpickedupsuchasweetride.

AstheplanetChthoniagrewlargerinmycockpitwindow,thedensityandnumberofshipsaroundmeseemedtoincreaseexponentially.WhenIfinallyenteredtheplanet’satmosphereandbegantodescendtowardthesurface,itwaslikeflyingthroughaswarmofmetalinsects.WhenIreachedtheareaaroundCastleAnorak,Ihadahardtimebelievingmyeyes.Aconcentrated,pulsingmassofshipsandavatarscoveredthegroundandfilledtheair.ItwaslikesomeotherworldlyWoodstock.Shoulder-to-shoulderavatarsstretchedtothehorizoninalldirections.Thousandsmorefloatedandflewthroughtheairabove,dodgingtheconstantinfluxofships.AndatthecenterofallthisinsanitystoodCastleAnorakitself,anonyxjewelgleamingbeneaththeSixers’transparentsphericalshield.

Everyfewsecondssomehaplessavatarorshipwouldinadvertentlyflyorcareenintotheshieldandgetvaporized,likeaflyhittingabugzapper.

WhenIgotcloser,Ispottedanopenpatchofgrounddirectlyinfrontofthecastle’sentrance,justoutsidetheshieldwall.Threegiantfiguresstoodsidebysideatthecenteroftheclearing.ThecrowdaroundthemwascontinuouslysurginginwardandthenrecedingasavatarspushedbackagainsteachothertotrytokeeparespectfuldistancefromAech,Art3mis,andShoto,whoeachsatinsidetheirowngleaminggiantrobot.

ThiswasmyfirstopportunitytoseewhichrobotsAech,Art3mis,andClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd329

5/24/112:07PM

330:ErnestCline

ShotohadselectedafterclearingtheSecondGate,andittookmeamomenttoplacethetoweringfemalerobotArt3miswaspiloting.Itwasblackandchromeincolor,withelaborateboomerang-shapedheadgearandsymmetricalredbreastplatesthatmadeitlooklikeafemaleversionofTranzorZ.ThenIrealizeditwasthefemaleversionofTranzorZ,anobscurecharacterfromtheoriginalMazingerZanimeseriesknownasMinervaX.

AechhadselectedanRX-78GundammechfromtheoriginalMobileSuitGundamanimeseries,oneofhislongtimefavorites.(EventhoughInowknewAechwasactuallyafemaleinreallife,heravatarwasstillmale,soIdecidedtocontinuetorefertohimassuch.)Shotostoodseveralheadstallerthanbothofthem,concealedinsidethecockpitofRaideen,theenormousred-and-bluerobotfromthemid-

’70sBraveRaideenanimeseries.Themassivemechclutchedhissignaturegoldenbowinonehandandhadalargespikedshieldstrappedtotheother.

AroarsweptthroughthecrowdasIflewinlowovertheshieldandrocketedtoahaltabovetheothers.IrotatedmyorientationsothatLeopardonwasupright,thencuttheenginesanddroppedtheremainingdistancetothesurface.Myrobotlandedononeknee,andtheimpactshooktheground.AsIstooditupright,theseaofonlookersbegantochantmyavatar’sname.Par-zi-val!Par-zi-val!

Asthechantingfadedbacktoadullroar,Iturnedtofacemycompan-ions.

“Niceentrance,yabigshow-off,”Art3missaid,usingourprivatecomlinkchannel.“Didyoushowuplateonpurpose?”

“Notmyfault,Iswear,”Isaid,tryingtoplayitcool.“Therewasalonglineatthestargate.”

Aechnoddedhismech’smassivehead.“Everytransportterminalontheplanethasbeenspittingoutavatarssincelastnight,”hesaid,motioningtothescenearounduswithhisGundam’smassivehand.“Thisisunreal.I’veneverseensomanyshipsoravatarsinoneplace.”

“Meneither,”Art3missaid.“I’msurprisedtheGSSserverscanhandletheload,withsomuchactivityinonesector.Buttheredoesn’tseemtobeanylagatall.”

Itookalonglookattheseaofavatarsaroundus,thenshiftedmyattentiontothecastle.Thousandsofflyingavatarsandshipscontinuedtobuzzaroundtheshield,occasionallyfiringbullets,lasers,missiles,andotherClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd330

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:331

projectilesatit,allofwhichimpactedharmlesslyonthesurface.Insidethesphere,thousandsofpower-armoredSixeravatarsstoodinsilentformation,completelyencirclingthecastle.Interspersedthroughtheirrankswererowsofhovertanksandgunships.Inanyothersetting,theSixerarmywouldhaveappearedformidable.Maybeevenunstoppable.Butinthefaceoftheendlessmobthatnowsurroundedthem,theSixerslookedwoefullyoutnumberedandoutmatched.

“So,Parzival,”saidShoto,turninghisrobot’shugeheadinmydirection.“It’sshowtime,oldfriend.Ifthatspheredoesn’tcomedownlikeyoupromised,thisisgoingtobeprettyembarrassing.”

“‘Hanwillhavethatshielddown,’”Aechquoted.“‘We’vegottogivehimmoretime!’”

Ilaughed,thenusedmyrobot’srighthandtotapthebackofitsleftwrist,indicatingthetime.“Aechisright.It’sstillsixminutestonoon.”

Theendofmysentencewasdrownedoutbyanotherroarfromthecrowd.Directlyinfrontofus,insidethesphere,themassivefrontdoorsofCastleAnorakhadjustswungopen,andnowasingleSixeravatarwasemergingfromwithin.

Sorrento.

Grinningatthedinofbooingandhissingthatgreetedhisarrival,SorrentowavedhishandattheSixertroopsstationeddirectlyinfrontofthecastleandtheyimmediatelyscattered,clearingalargeopenspace.Sorrentosteppedforwardintoit,positioninghimselfdirectlyoppositeus,justafewdozenyardsaway,on

theothersideoftheshield.TenotherSixeravatarsemergedfromthecastleandpositionedthemselvesbehindSorrento,eachofthemstandingagooddistanceapart.

“Ihaveabadfeelingaboutthis,”Art3mismutteredintoherheadset.

“Yeah,”Aechwhispered.“Metoo.”

Sorrentosurveyedthescene,thensmiledupatus.Whenhespoke,hisvoicewasamplifiedthroughpowerfulspeakersmountedontheSixergunshipsandhovertanks,allowinghimtobeheardbyeveryoneinthearea.

Andsincetherewerecamerasandreportersfromeverymajornewsfeedoutletpresent,Iknewhiswordswerebeingbroadcasttotheentireworld.

“WelcometoCastleAnorak,”Sorrentosaid.“We’vebeenexpectingyou.”Hemadeasweepinggesture,indicatingtheangrymobthatsurroundedhim.“Imustsay,weareabitsurprisedsomanyofyoushowedupheretoday.Bynowitmustbeobvious,toeventhemostignorantamongyou,thatnothingcangetpastourshield.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd331

5/24/112:07PM

332:ErnestCline

Hisproclamationwasmetwithadeafeningroarofshoutedthreats,insults,andcolorfulprofanity.Iwaitedamoment,thenraisedbothofmyrobot’shands,callingforquiet.Onceasemblanceofsilencehaddescended,Igotonthepubliccommchannel,whichhadthesameeffectasturningonagiantPAsystem.Idialedmyheadsetvolumedowntokillthefeedback,thensaid,“You’rewrong,Sorrento.We’recomingin.Atnoon.

Allofus.”

Aroarofapprovaleruptedfromtheassembledgunters.Sorrentodidn’tbotherwaitingforittodiedown.“You’rewelcometotry,”hesaid,stillgrinning.Then

heproducedanitemfromhisinventoryandplaceditonthegroundinfrontofhim.Izoomedinforacloserlookandfeltthemusclesinmyjawtighten.Itwasatoyrobot.Abipedaldinosaurwitharmor-platedskinandapairoflargecannonsmountedonitsshoulderblades.

Irecognizeditimmediately,fromseveralturn-of-the-centuryJapanesemonsterflicks.

ItwasMechagodzilla.

“Kiryu!”Sorrentoshouted,hisvoicestillamplified.Atthesoundofthecommandword,histinyrobotinstantlygrewinsizeuntilitstoodalmostastallasCastleAnorakitself,twicetheheightofthe“giant”robotsthatAech,Shoto,Art3mis,andIpiloted.Themechanicallizard’sarmoredheadalmosttouchedthetopofthesphericalshield.

Anawestrucksilencefelloverthecrowd,followedbyarumbleoffearfulrecognitionfromthethousandsofgunterspresent.Theyallrecognizedthisgiantmetalbehemoth.Andtheyallknewitwasnearlyindestructible.

Sorrentoenteredthemechthroughanaccessdoorinoneofitsmassiveheels.Afewsecondslater,thebeast’seyesbegantoglowbrightyellow.

Thenitthrewbackitshead,openeditsjaggedmaw,andletoutapiercingmetallicroar.

Oncue,thetenSixeravatarsstandingbehindSorrentopulledouttheirtoyrobotsandactivatedthem,too.FiveofthemhadthehugeroboticlionsthatcouldformVoltron.TheotherfivehadgiantmechsfromRo-botechandNeonGenesisEvangelion.

“Ohshit,”IheardArt3misandAechwhisperinunison.

“Comeon!”Sorrentoshouteddefiantly.Hischallengeechoedacrossthecrowdedlandscape.

Manyoftheguntersonthefrontlinestookaninvoluntarystepbackward.Afewothersturnedandranfortheirlives.ButAech,Shoto,Art3mis,andIheldourground.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd332

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:333

Icheckedthetimeonmydisplay.Lessthanaminutetogonow.IpressedabuttononLeopardon’scontrolpanel,andmygiantrobotdrewitsgleamingsword.

Ididn’twitnessitfirsthand,butIcantellyouwithsomecertaintythatthisiswhathappenednext:

TheSixershaderectedalargearmoredbunkerbehindCastleAnorak,filledwithpalletsofweaponsandbattlegearthathadbeenteleportedinbytheSixersbeforetheyactivatedtheirshield.TherewasalsoalongrackofthirtySupplyDroids,whichhadbeeninstalledalongthebunker’seasternwall.DuetoalackofimaginationonthepartoftheSupplyDroids’

originaldesigner,theyalllookedexactlyliketherobotJohnnyFivefromthe1986filmShortCircuit.TheSixersusedthesedroidsprimarilyasgo-fers,torunerrandsandfillequipmentandammorequisitionsforthetroopsstationedoutside.

Atexactlyoneminutetonoon,oneoftheSupplyDroids,designationSD-03,powereditselfonanddisengagedfromitschargingdock.Thenitrolledforwardonitstanktreads,acrossthebunkerfloor,tothearmorycageatitsoppositeend.Tworoboticsentriesstoodoutsidethearmory’sentrance.SD-03transmitteditsequipmentrequisitionordertothem—anorderthatImyselfhadsubmittedontheSixerintranettwodaysearlier.

Thesentriesverifiedtherequisitionandsteppedaside,permittingSD-03

torollintothecage.Itcontinuedpastlongstorageracksthatheldawidearrayofweaponry:magicswords,shields,poweredarmorsuits,plasmarifles,railguns,andcountlessotherweapons.Finally,thedroidrolledtoastop.Therackinfront

ofitheldfivelargeoctahedron-shapeddevices,eachroughlythesizeofasoccerball.Eachdevicehadasmallcontrolpanelsetintooneofitseightsides,alongwithaserialnumber.SD-03

foundtheserialnumberthatmatchedtheoneonmyrequisitionform.

Then,followingasetofinstructionsI’dprogrammedintoit,thelittledroiduseditsclawlikeindexfingertoenteraseriesofcommandsonthedevice’scontrolpanel.Whenitfinished,asmalllightabovethekeypadturnedfromgreentored.ThenSD-03liftedtheoctahedroninitsarms.

Asitexitedthearmory,oneantimatterfriction-inductionbombwassubtractedfromtheSixers’computerizedinventory.

SD-03thenrolledoutofthebunkerandbegantoclimbaseriesoframpsandstaircasestheSixershadbuiltontothecastle’souterwallstoClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd333

5/24/112:07PM

334:ErnestCline

provideaccesstotheupperlevels.Alongtheway,thedroidrolledthroughseveralsecuritycheckpoints.Eachtime,roboticsentriesscanneditssecurityclearanceandfoundthatthedroidwasallowedtogoanywhereitdamnwellpleased.WhenSD-03reachedCastleAnorak’suppermostlevel,itrolledoutontoalargeobservationplatformlocatedthere.

Atthispoint,SD-03mayhavedrawnafewcuriouslooksfromthesquadronofeliteSixeravatarsguardingtheplatform.Ihavenowayofknowing.Buteveniftheguardssomehowanticipatedwhatwasabouttohappenandopenedfireonthelittledroid,itwastoolateforthemtostopitnow.

SD-03continuedrollingdirectlytothecenteroftheroof,whereahigh-levelSixerwizardsatholdingtheOrbofOsuvox—theartifactgeneratingthesphericalshieldaroundthecastle.

Then,executingthelastoftheinstructionsI’dprogrammedintoittwodays

earlier,SD-03liftedtheantimatterfriction-inductionbombupoveritsheadanddetonatedit.

Theexplosionvaporizedthesupplydroid,alongwithalltheavatarsstationedontheplatform,includingtheSixerwizardwhowasoperatingtheOrbofOsuvox.Themomenthedied,theartifactdeactivatedandfelltothenow-emptyplatform.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd334

5/24/112:07PM

Abrilliantflashoflightaccompaniedthedetonation,momentarilyblindingme.Whenitreceded,myeyesfocusedbackonthecastle.

Theshieldwasdown.Now,nothingseparatedthemightySixerandgunterarmiesbutopengroundandemptyspace.

Foraboutfiveseconds,nothinghappened.Timeseemedtostopandeverythingwassilentandstill.Thenallhellbrokeloose.

Sittingaloneinthecockpitofmymech,Iletoutasilentcheer.Incredibly,myplanhadworked.ButIhadnotimetocelebrate,becauseIwasnowstandingsmack-dabinthemiddleofthelargestbattleinthehistoryoftheOASIS.

Idon’tknowwhatIexpectedtohappennext.I’dhopedmaybeatenthofthegunterspresentwouldjoinourassaultontheSixers.Butinsecondsitwasclearthateverysingleoneofthemintendedtojointhefight.Afiercebattlecryrosefromtheseaofavatarsaroundusandtheyallsurgedforward,convergingontheSixerarmyfromeverydirection.Theirtotallackofhesitationastoundedme,becauseitwasobviousmanyofthemwererushingtowardcertaindeath.

Iwatchedinamazementasthetwomightyforcesclashedallaroundme,onthegroundandinthesky.Itwasachaotic,breathtakingscene,likeseveralbeehivesandwaspnestshadbeensmashedtogetherandthendroppedontoagiantanthill.

Art3mis,Aech,Shoto,andIstoodatthecenterofitall.Atfirst,Ididn’teven

moveforfearofcrushingthewaveofguntersswarmingaroundandClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd335

5/24/112:07PM

336:ErnestCline

overmyrobot’sfeet.Sorrento,however,didn’twaitforanyonetogetoutofhisway.Hecrushedseveraldozenavatars(includingafewofhisowntroops)underhismech’stitanicfeetashelumberedtowardus,eachofhisfootfallscreatingasmallcraterintherockysurface.

“Uh-oh,”IheardShotomutterashismechassumedadefensiveposture.“Herehecomes.”

TheSixermechswerealreadytakinganimmenseamountoffirefromalldirections.Sorrentowasgettinghitmorethananyone,becausehismechwasthebiggesttargetonthebattlefield,andnogunterwitharangedweaponcouldseemtoresisttakingashotathim.Theintensebarrageofprojectiles,fireballs,magicmissiles,andlaserboltsquicklydestroyedordisabledtheotherSixermechs(whoneverevengotachancetoformVoltron).ButSorrento’srobotsomehowremainedundamaged.

Everyprojectilethathithimseemedtoricochetharmlesslyoffhismech’sarmoredbody.Dozensofspacecraftswoopedandbuzzedaroundhim,pepperinghismechwithrocketfire,buttheirattacksalsoseemedtohavelittleeffect.

“Itison!”Aechshoutedintohiscomlink.“ItisonlikeRedDawn!”

Andwiththat,heunleashedallofhisGundam’sconsiderablefirepoweratSorrento.Atthesamemoment,ShotobeganfiringRaideen’sbow,whileArt3mis’smechfiredsomesortofredenergybeamthatappearedtoorigi-natefromMinervaX’sgiantmetalbreasts.Notwantingtobeleftout,IfiredLeopardon’sArcTurnweapon,agoldboomerangthatlaunchedfromthemech’sforehead.

Allofourattacksweredirecthits,butArt3mis’sbeamweaponwastheonlyonethatseemedtodoanyrealdamagetoSorrento.Sheblastedachunkoutofthe

metallizard’srightshoulderbladeanddisabledthecannonmountedthere.ButSorrentodidn’tpauseinhisapproach.Ashecontinuedtocloseinonus,theMechagodzilla’seyesbegantoglowabrightblue.ThenSorrentoopeneditsmouth,andacascadingboltofbluelightningshotoutwardfromthemech’sopenmaw.Thebeamstruckthegrounddirectlyinfrontofus,thencutadeepsmokingfurrowintheearthasitcontinuedtosweepforward,vaporizingeveryavatarandshipinitspath.Allfourofusmanagedtoleapoutofthewaybylaunchingourrobotsskyward,thoughInearlytookadirecthit.Thelightningweaponshutdownasecondlater,butSorrentocontinuedtotrudgeforward.Inoticedthathismech’seyeswerenolongerglowingblue.Apparently,hislightningweaponhadtorecharge.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd336

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:337

“Ithinkwe’vereachedthefinalboss,”Aechjokedoverthecomlink.

ThefourofuswerenowspreadoutandcirclingaboveSorrento,makingourselvesmovingtargets.

“Screwthis,guys,”Isaid.“Idon’tthinkwecandestroythatthing.”

“Astuteobservation,Z,”Art3missaid.“Gotanybrightideas?”

Ithoughtforasecond.“HowaboutIdistracthimwhilethethreeofyoucutaroundandheadforthecastleentrance?”

“Soundslikeaplan,”Shotoreplied.Butinsteadofheadingforthecastle,hebankedandflewstraightatSorrento,closingthedistancebetweentheminthespaceofafewseconds.

“Go!”heshoutedintohiscomlink.“Thisbastardisallmine!”

AechcutacrossSorrento’srightflankandArt3misbankedleft,whileIrocketedupwardandoverhim.Belowme,IcouldseeShotofacingoffagainstSorrento,

andthedifferenceinthesizeoftheirmechswasdisturbing.Shoto’srobotlookedlikeanactionfigurenexttoSorrento’smassivemetaldragon.Nevertheless,ShotocuthisthrustersanddroppedtothegrounddirectlyinfrontoftheMechagodzilla.

“Hurry,”IheardAechshout.“Thecastleentranceiswideopen!”

Frommyvantagepointintheskyabove,IcouldseethattheSixerforcessurroundingthecastlewerealreadybeingoverrunbytheendlessmobofenemyavatars.TheSixers’lineswerebroken,andhundredsofgunterswerestreamingpastthemnow,runninguptotheopencastleentranceonlytodiscoveroncetheyreacheditthattheycouldn’tcrossthethresholdbecausetheydidn’tpossessacopyoftheCrystalKey.

Aechswungarounddirectlyinfrontofme.Stillahundredfeetofftheground,hepoppedthehatchofhisGundam’scockpitandleaptout,whisperingtherobot’scommandwordinthesameinstant.Asthegiantrobotshrankbacktoitsoriginalsize,hesnatcheditoutoftheairandstoweditinhisinventory.Nowflyingbysomemagicalmeans,Aech’savatarswoopeddown,passedoverthebottleneckofguntersclusteredatthecastleentrance,anddisappearedthroughtheopendoubledoors.Asecondlater,Art3misexecutedasimilarmaneuver,stowingherownmechinmidairandthenflyingintothecastlerightbehindAech.

IdroppedLeopardonintoasharpdiveandpreparedtofollowthem.

“Shoto,”Ishoutedintomycomm.“We’regoinginsidenow!Let’sgo!”

“Goahead,”Shotoreplied.“I’llberightbehindyou.”Butsomethingaboutthetoneofhisvoicebotheredme,andIpulledoutofmydiveandswungmymechbackaround.ShotowashoveringaboveSorrento,nearClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd337

5/24/112:07PM

338:ErnestCline

hisrightflank.Sorrentoslowlyturnedhismecharoundandbegantostomp

backtowardthecastle.Icouldseenowthathismech’sweaknesswasitslackofspeed.TheMechagodzilla’sslowmovementandattackscounterbalanceditsseeminginvulnerability.

“Shoto!”Ishouted.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?Let’sgo!”

“Goonwithoutme,”Shotosaid.“Iowethissonofabitchsomepayback.”

BeforeIcouldreply,ShotodoveatSorrento,swingingagiantswordineachofhismech’shands.ThebladesbothcutintoSorrento’srightside,creatingashowerofsparks,andtomysurprise,theyactuallydidsomedamage.WhenthesmokeclearedIsawthattheMechagodzilla’srightarmnowhunglimp.Itwasnearlyseveredattheelbow.

“Lookslikeyou’llbewipingwithyourlefthandnow,Sorrento!”Shotoshoutedtriumphantly.ThenhefiredRaideen’sboostersandheadedinmydirection,towardthecastle.ButSorrentohadalreadyswiveledhismech’sheadaroundandwasnowtakingabeadonShotowithtwoglowingblueeyes.

“Shoto!”Ishouted.“Lookout!”Butmyvoicewasdrownedoutbythesoundofthelightningweaponfiringoutofthemetaldragon’smouth.ItnailedShoto’smechdirectlyinthecenterofitsback.Therobotexplodedinanorangeballoffire.

Iheardabriefscreechofstaticonthecommchannel.IcalledoutShoto’snameagain,buthedidn’treply.Thenamessageflashedonmydisplay,informingmethatShoto’snamehadjustdisappearedfromtheScoreboard.

Hewasdead.

Thisrealizationmomentarilystunnedme,whichwasunfortunate,becauseSorrento’slightningweaponwasstillfiring,movinginafastsweepingarc,cuttingacrosstheground,thendiagonallyupthecastlewall,towardme.Ifinallyreacted—toolate—andSorrentonailedmymechinthelowertorso,justasplitsecondbeforethebeamcutoff.

Ilookeddowntodiscoverthatthebottomhalfofmyrobothadjustbeenblastedaway.Everywarningindicatorinmycockpitstartedtoflashasmymechbegantofalloutoftheskyintwosmoking,burninghalves.

Somehow,Ihadthepresenceofmindtoreachupandyanktheejectionhandleabovemyseat.Thecockpitcanopypoppedoff,andIjumpedfreeofthefallingmechasplitsecondbeforeitimpactedonthecastlesteps,killingseveraldozenoftheavatarscrowdedthere.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd338

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:339

Ifiredmyavatar’sjetbootsjustbeforeIhittheground,thenquicklyadjustedmyimmersionrig’scontrolsetup,becauseIwasnowcontrollingmyavatarinsteadofagiantrobot.Imanagedtolandonmyfeetinfrontofthecastle,justclearofLeopardon’sflamingwreckage.AsecondafterIlanded,ashadowspilledoverme,andIturnedaroundtoseeSorrento’smechblottingoutthesky.Heraiseditsmassiveleftfoot,preparingtocrushme.

Itookthreerunningstepsandjumped,firingmyjetbootsinmidleap.

ThethrustthrewmeclearjustastheMechagodzilla’shugeclawedfootslammeddown,formingacraterinthespotwhereI’dstoodasecondbefore.Themetalbeastletoutanotherearsplittingshriek,followedbyhollow,boominglaughter.Sorrento’slaughter.

Icutmyjet-bootthrustersandtuckedmyavatarintoaball.Ihitthegroundrolling,tumbledforward,thencameuponmyfeet.Isquintedupatthemetallizard’shead.Itseyesweren’tglowingagain—notyet.IcouldfiremyjetbootsagainnowandmakeitinsidethecastlebeforeSorrentocouldfireonmeagain.Hewouldn’tbeabletofollowmeinside—notwithoutgettingoutofhisoversizemech.

IcouldhearArt3misandAechshoutingatmeonmycomlink.Theywerealreadyinside,standinginfrontofthegate,waitingforme.

AllIhadtodowasflyintothecastleandjointhem.ThethreeofuscouldopenandenterthegatebeforeSorrentocaughtupwithus.Iwassureofit.

ButIdidn’tmove.Instead,ItookouttheBetaCapsuleandheldthesmallmetalcylinderinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.

Sorrentohadtriedtokillme.Andintheprocess,he’dmurderedmyaunt,alongwithseveralofmyneighbors,includingsweetoldMrs.Gilmore,whohadneverhurtasoul.He’dalsohadDaitokilled,andeventhoughI’dnevermethim,Daitohadbeenmyfriend.

AndnowSorrentohadjustkilledShoto’savatar,robbinghimofhischancetoentertheThirdGate.Sorrentodidn’tdeservehispowerorhisposition.Whathedeserved,Idecidedinthatmoment,waspublichumili-ationanddefeat.Hedeservedtohavehisasskickedwhilethewholeworldwatched.

IheldtheBetaCapsulehighovermyheadandpresseditsactivationbutton.

Therewasablindingflashoflight,andtheskyturnedcrimsonasmyClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd339

5/24/112:07PM

340:ErnestCline

avatarchanged,growingandmorphingintoagiganticred-and-silver-skinnedhumanoidalienwithglowingegg-shapedeyes,astrangefinnedhead,andaglowinglightembeddedinthecenterofmychest.Forthenextthreeminutes,IwasUltraman.

TheMechagodzillastoppedshriekingandthrashing.Itsgazehadbeenpointeddownattheground,wheremyavatarhadstoodasecondearlier.

Nowitsheadslowlytiltedup,takinginthesizeofitsnewopponent,untilourglowingeyesfinallymet.Inowstoodface-to-facewithSorrento’smech,matchingitsheightandsizealmostexactly.

Sorrento’smechtookseveralawkwardstepsbackward.Itseyesbegantoglowagain.

Icrouchedslightlyandstruckanoffensivepose,noticingthatatimernow

appearedinthecornerofmydisplay,countingdownfromthreeminutes.

2:59.2:58.2:57.

BelowthetimertherewasamenulistingUltraman’svariousenergyattacksinJapanese.Iquicklyselectedspeciumrayandthenheldmyarmsupinfrontofme,onehorizontalandtheothervertical,formingacross.

Apulsingbeamofwhiteenergyshotoutofmyforearms,strikingtheMechagodzillainitschestandknockingitbackward.Thrownoffbalance,Sorrentolostcontrolandtrippedoverhisownmammothfeet.Hismechtumbledtotheground,landingonitsside.

Acheerwentupfromthethousandsofavatarswatchingfromthechaoticbattlefieldaroundus.

Ilaunchedmyselfintotheairandflewhalfakilometerstraightupward.ThenIdroppedbackdown,feetfirst,aimingmyheelsdirectlyattheMechagodzilla’scurvedspine.Whenmyfeethit,Iheardsomethinginsidethemetalbeastsnapundermycrushingweight.Smokebegantopouroutofitsmouth,andtheblueglowinitseyesquicklydissipated.

Iexecutedabackflipandlandedbehindthesupinemechinacrouch.

Itssinglefunctioningarmflailedwildlywhileitstailandlegsthrashedabout.Sorrentoappearedtobestrugglingwiththecontrolsinanefforttogetthebeastbackonitsfeet.

Iselectedyatsuakikohrinfrommyweaponmenu:Ultra-Slice.Aglowingcircularsawbladeofelectric-blueenergyappearedinmyrighthand,spinningfiercely.IhurleditatSorrento,releasingitwithasnapofmywrist,likeaFrisbee.ItwhirredthroughtheairandstrucktheMecha-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd340

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:341

godzillainitsstomach.Theenergybladecutintoitsmetalskinasifitweretofu,slicingthemechintotwohalves.Justbeforetheentiremachineexploded,theheaddetachedandblastedawayfromtheneck.Sorrentohadejected.Butsincethemechwaslyingflat,theheadshotoutonatrajectoryparalleltotheground.Sorrentoquicklyadjustedforthis,andtherocketssproutingfromtheheadbegantotiltitskyward.Beforeitcouldgetveryfar,Icrossedmyarmsagainandfiredanotherspeciumray,nail-ingtheretreatingheadlikeaclaypigeon.Itdisintegratedinanimmenselysatisfyingexplosion.

Thecrowdwentwild.

IcheckedtheScoreboardandconfirmedthatSorrento’semployeenumberhadvanished.Hisavatarwasdead.Icouldn’ttaketoomuchsatisfactionfromthis,though,becauseIknewhewasprobablyalreadykickingoneofhisunderlingsoutofahapticchairsohecouldtakecontrolofanewavatar.

ThecounteronmydisplayhadonlyfifteensecondsremainingwhenIdeactivatedtheBetaCapsule.Myavatarinstantlyshrankbacktonormalsize,andmyappearancereturnedtonormal.ThenIspunaround,poweredonmyjetboots,andflewintothecastle.

WhenIreachedtheoppositeendofthehugefoyer,IfoundAechandArt3misstandinginfrontofthecrystaldoor,waitingforme.Thesmoking,bloodiedbodiesofoveradozenrecentlyslainSixeravatarslayscatteredonthestoneflooraroundthem,slowlyfadingoutofexistence.Apparently,therehadbeenabriefanddecisiveskirmishandI’djustmissedit.

“Nofair,”Isaid,cuttingmyjetbootsanddroppingtothefloorbesideAech.“Youcouldhavesavedatleastoneofthemforme.”

Art3misdidn’treply.Shejustgavemethefinger.

“CongratsonwastingSorrento,”Aechsaid.“Itwasanepicthrowdown,forsure.Butyou’restillacompleteidiot.Youknowthat,right?

“Yeah.”Ishrugged.“Iknow.”

“You’resuchaselfishasshole!”Art3misshouted.“Whatifyou’dgottenyourselfkilledtoo?”

“Ididn’t,though.DidI?”Isaid,steppingaroundhertoexaminethecrystaldoor.“Sochilloutandlet’sopenthisthing.”

Iexaminedthekeyholeinthecenterofthedoor,thenlookedatthewordsprinteddirectlyaboveit,etchedintothedoor’sfacetedsurface.

Charity.Hope.Faith.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd341

5/24/112:07PM

342:ErnestCline

ItookoutmycopyoftheCrystalKeyandhelditup.AechandArt3misfollowedsuitandhelduptheirkeystoo.

Nothinghappened.

Weallexchangedconcernedlooks.Thenanideaoccurredtome,andIclearedmythroat.“‘Threeisamagicnumber,’”Isaid,recitingthefirstlineoftheSchoolhouseRock!song.AssoonasIspokethewords,thecrystaldoorbegantoglow,andtwoadditionalkeyholesappeared,oneithersideofthefirst.

“Thatdidit!”Aechwhispered.“Holyshit.Ican’tbelievethis.We’rereallyhere.StandinginfrontoftheThirdGate.”

Art3misnodded.“Finally.”

Iinsertedmykeyinthecenterkeyhole.Aechinsertedhisintothekeyholeontheleft,andArt3misplacedhersinthekeyholeontheright.

“Clockwise?”Art3missaid.“Onthecountofthree?”

AechandInodded.Art3miscountedtothree,andweturnedourkeysinunison.Therewasabriefflashofbluelight,duringwhichallofourkeysandthecrystaldooritselfvanished.AndthentheThirdGatestoodopeninfrontofus,acrystaldoorwayleadingintoaspinningwhirlpoolofstars.

“Wow,”IheardArt3miswhisperbesideme.“Herewego.”

Asthethreeofussteppedforward,preparingtoenterthegate,Iheardanearsplittingboom.Itsoundedliketheentireuniversewascrackinginhalf.

Andthenwealldied.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd342

5/24/112:07PM

Whenyouravatargetskilled,yourscreendoesn’tfadetoblackrightaway.Instead,yourpointofviewautomaticallyshiftstoathird-personperspective,treatingyoutoabriefout-of-bodyreplayofyouravatar’sfinalfate.

Asplitsecondafterweheardthethunderousboom,myperspectiveshifted,andIfoundmyselflookingatourthreeavatars,standingtherefrozeninfrontoftheopengate.Thenanincineratingwhitelightfilledtheworld,accompaniedbyanearsplittingwallofsound.ItwaswhatI’dalwayspicturedbeingfriedinanuclearblastwouldbelike.

Forabriefmoment,Isawouravatars’skeletonssuspendedinsidethetransparentoutlinesofourmotionlessbodies.Thenmyavatar’shit-pointcounterdroppedtozero.

Theblastwavearrivedasecondlater,disintegratingeverythinginitspath—ouravatars,thefloor,thewalls,thecastleitself,andthethousandsofavatarsgatheredaroundit.Everythingwasturnedtoafine,atomizeddustthathungsuspendedintheairforasecondbeforeslowlysettlingtoearth.

Theentiresurfaceoftheplanethadbeenwipedclean.TheareaaroundCastleAnorak,whichhadbeencrowdedwithwarringavatarsasplitsecondbefore,wasnowadesolateandbarrenwasteland.Everyoneandeverythinghadbeendestroyed.OnlytheThirdGateremained,acrystaldoorwayfloatingintheairabovethecraterwherethecastlehadstoodamomentbefore.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd343

5/24/112:07PM

344:ErnestCline

MyinitialshockquicklyturnedtodreadasIrealizedwhathadjusthappened.

TheSixershaddetonatedtheCataclyst.

Itwastheonlyexplanation.Onlythatincrediblypowerfulartifactcouldhavedonethis.Notonlyhaditkilledeveryavatarinthesector,ithadevendestroyedCastleAnorak,afortressthat,untilnow,hadprovenitselftobeindestructible.

Istaredattheopengate,floatingintheemptyair,andwaitedfortheinevitable,finalmessagetoappearinthecenterofmydisplay,thewordsIkneweveryotheravatarinthesectormustbeseeingatthisverymoment:gameover.

Butwhenwordsfinallydidappearonmydisplay,itwasanothermessageentirely:congratulations!youhaveanextralife!

Then,asIwatchedinamazement,myavatarreappeared,fadingbackintoexistenceintheexactsamelocationwhereI’ddiedafewsecondsearlier.Iwasstandinginfrontoftheopengateagain.Butthegatewasnowfloatinginmidair,suspendedseveraldozenmetersabovetheplanet’ssurface,overthecraterthathadbeencreatedbythedestructionofthecastle.

Asmyavatarfinishedmaterializing,IlookeddownandrealizedthatthefloorI’dbeenstandingonearlierwasnowgone.Soweremyjetboots,andeverythingelseI’dbeencarrying.

Iseemedtohoverinmidairforamoment,likeWileE.CoyoteintheoldRoadrunnercartoons.ThenIplummetedstraightdown.Imadeadesperategrabfortheopengateinfrontofme,butitwaswelloutofreach.

Ihitthegroundhardandlostathirdofmyhitpointsfromtheimpact.

ThenIslowlygottomyfeetandlookedaround.Iwasstandinginavastcube-

shapedcrater—thespacewherethefoundationandlowerbasementlevelsofCastleAnorakhadstood.Itwascompletelybarrenandeerilysilent.Therewasnorubblefromthedestroyedcastle,andnowreckagefromthethousandsofspaceshipsandaircraftthathadfilledtheskyafewmomentsago.Infact,therewasnosignatallofthegrandbattlethathadjustbeenfoughthere.TheCataclysthadvaporizedeverything.

IlookeddownatmyavatarandsawthatIwasnowwearingablackT-shirtandbluejeans,thedefaultoutfitthatappearedoneverynewlycreatedavatar.ThenIpulledupmystatsanditeminventory.MyavatarhadthesamelevelandabilityscoresI’dhadpreviously,butmyinventorywascompletelyemptyexceptforoneitem—thequarterI’dobtainedClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd344

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:345

afterplayingmyperfectgameofPac-ManonArchaide.OnceI’dplacedthequarterinmyinventory,Ihadn’tbeenabletoremoveit,soI’dneverbeenabletohaveanydivinationoridentificationspellscastonit.I’dhadnowayofascertainingthequarter’struepurposeorpowers.Duringthetumultuouseventsofthepastfewmonths,I’dforgottenIevenhadthedamnthing.

ButnowIknewwhatthequarterwas—asingle-useartifactthatgavemyavataranextralife.Untilthatmoment,Ihadn’tevenknownsuchathingwaspossible.InthehistoryoftheOASIS,therewasnorecordofanyavatareveracquiringanextralife.

Iselectedthequarterinmyinventoryandtriedagaintoremoveit.Thistime,Iwasabletotakeitoutandholditinthepalmofmyavatar’shand.

Nowthattheartifact’ssolepowerhadbeenused,itnolongerpossessedanymagicalproperties.Nowitwasjustaquarter.

Ilookedstraightupatthecrystalgatefloatingtwentymetersaboveme.

Itwasstillsittingthere,wideopen.ButIhadnoideahowIwasgoingtogetuptheretoenterit.Ihadnojetboots,noship,andnomagicitemsormemorized

spells.Nothingthatwouldallowmetoflyorlevitate.Andtherewasn’tasinglestepladderinsight.

ThereIwas,standingastone’sthrowfromtheThirdGate,butunabletoreachit.

“Hey,Z?”Iheardavoicesay.“Canyouhearme?”

ItwasAech,buthervoicewasnolongeralteredtosoundmale.Icouldhearherperfectly,asifsheweretalkingtomeviacomlink.Butthatdidn’tmakesense,becausemyavatarnolongerhadacomlink.AndAech’savatarwasdead.

“Whereareyou?”Iaskedtheemptyair.

“I’mdead,likeeveryoneelse,”Aechsaid.“Everyonebutyou.”

“ThenhowcanIhearyou?”

“Ogpatchedallofusintoyouraudioandvideofeeds,”shesaid.“Sowecanseewhatyouseeandhearwhatyouhear.”

“Oh,”Isaid.

“Isthatallrightwithyou,Parzival?”IheardOgask.“Ifitisn’t,justsayso.”

Ithoughtaboutitforamoment.“No,it’sfinewithme,”Isaid.“ShotoandArt3misarelisteningintoo?”

“Yes,”Shotosaid.“I’mhere.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd345

5/24/112:07PM

346:ErnestCline

“Yeah,we’rehere,allright,”Art3missaid,andIcouldhearthebarelycontainedrageinhervoice.“Andwe’realldeadasdoornails.Thequestionis,whyaren’tyoudeadtoo,Parzival?”

“Yeah,Z,”Aechsaid.“Weareabitcuriousaboutthat.Whathappened?”

Itookoutthequarterandhelditupinfrontofmyeyes.“IwasawardedthisquarteronArchaideafewmonthsago,forplayingaperfectgameofPac-Man.Itwasanartifact,butIneverknewitspurpose.Notuntilnow.

Turnsoutitgavemeanextralife.”

Iheardonlysilenceforamoment;thenAechbegantolaugh.“Youluckysonofabitch!”shesaid.“Thenewsfeedsarereportingthateverysingleavatarinthesectorwasjustkilled.OverhalfthepopulationoftheOASIS.”

“WasittheCataclyst?”Iasked.

“Ithadtobe,”Art3missaid.“TheSixersmusthaveboughtitwhenitwentupforauctionafewyearsago.Andthey’vebeensittingonitallthistime,waitingfortheperfectmomenttodetonateit.”

“Buttheyjustkilledoffalloftheirowntroops,too,”Shotosaid.“Whywouldtheydothat?”

“Ithinkmostofthemwerealreadydead,”Art3missaid.

“TheSixershadnochoice,”Isaid.“Itwastheonlywaytheycouldstopus.We’dalreadyopenedtheThirdGateandwereabouttostepinsidewhentheydetonatedthatthing—”Ipaused,realizingsomething.“Howdidtheyknowwe’dopenedit?Unless—”

“Theywerewatchingus,”Aechsaid.“TheSixersprobablyhadremotesurveillancecamerashiddenallaroundthegate.”

“Sotheysawusopenit,”Art3missaid.“Whichmeanstheyknowhowtoopenitnowtoo.”

“Whocares?”Shotointerjected.“Sorrento’savatarisdead.AndsoarealloftheotherSixers.”

“Wrong,”Art3missaid.“ChecktheScoreboard.TherearestilltwentySixeravatarslistedthere,belowParzival.AndtheirscoresindicatethateverysingleoneofthemhasacopyoftheCrystalKey.”

“Shit!”AechandShotosaidinunison.

“TheSixersknewtheymighthavetodetonatetheCataclyst,”Isaid.

“SotheymusthavetakentheprecautionofmovingsomeoftheiravatarsoutsideofSectorTen.Theywereprobablywaitinginagunshipjustacrossthesectorborder,whereitwassafe.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd346

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:347

“You’reright,”Aechsaid.“WhichmeanstherearetwentymoreSixersheadedyourwayrightnow,Z.Soyouneedtogetyourassmovingandgetinsidethatgate.Thisisprobablygoingtobeyouronlychancetoclearit.”

Iheardherletoutadefeatedsigh.“It’soverforus.Sowe’reallrootingforyounow,amigo.Goodluck.”

“Thanks,Aech.”

“Gokouunoinorimasu,”Shotosaid.“Doyourbest.”

“Iwill,”Isaid.ThenIwaitedforArt3mistogivemeherblessingtoo.

“Goodluck,Parzival,”shesaidafteralongpause.“Aechisright,youknow.You’renevergoingtogetanothershotatthis.Andneitherwillanyothergunter.”Iheardhervoicecatch,asifshewerechokingbacktears.

Thenshetookadeepbreathandsaid,“Don’tscrewthisup.”

“Iwon’t,”Isaid.“Nopressure,right?”

Iglancedbackupattheopengate,suspendedintheairaboveme,sofaroutofreach.ThenIdroppedmygazeandbegantoscanthearea,desperatelytryingtofigureouthowIwasgoingtogetupthere.Somethingcaughtmyeye—justafewflickeringpixelsinthedistance,neartheoppositeendofthecrater.Iran

towardthem.

“Uh,nottobeabackseatdriveroranything,”Aechsaid.“Butwherethehellareyougoing?”

“Allofmyavatar’sitemsweredestroyedbytheCataclyst,”Isaid.“SonowIhavenowaytoflyupthereandreachthegate.”

“You’vegottobekiddingme!”Aechsighed.“Man,thehitsjustkeeponcoming!”

AsIapproachedtheobjectinthedistance,itbecamegraduallyclearer.

ItwastheBetaCapsule,floatingjustafewcentimetersabovetheground,spinningclockwise.TheCataclysthaddestroyedeverythinginthesectorthatcouldbedestroyed,butartifactswereindestructible.Justlikethegate.

“It’stheBetaCapsule!”Shotoshouted.“Itmusthavebeenthrownoverherebytheforceoftheblast.YoucanuseittobecomeUltramanandflyuptothegate!”

Inodded,raisedthecapsuleovermyhead,thenpressedthebuttononthesidetoactivateit.Butnothinghappened.“Shit!”Imuttered,realizingwhy.“Itwon’twork.Itcanonlybeusedonceaday.”IstowedtheBetaCapsuleandstartedtoscanthegroundaroundme.“Theremustbeotherartifactsscatteredaroundhere,”Isaid.Ibegantorunalongtheperimeterofthecastlefoundation,stillscanningtheground.“WereanyofyouguysClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd347

5/24/112:07PM

348:ErnestCline

carryingartifacts?Onethatwouldgivemetheabilitytofly?Orlevitate?

Orteleport?”

“No,”answeredShoto.“Ididn’thaveanyartifacts.”

“MySwordoftheBa’Heerwasanartifact,”Aechsaid.“Butitwon’thelpyoureachthegate.”

“ButmyChuckswill,”Art3missaid.

“Your‘Chucks’?”Irepeated.

“Myshoes.BlackChuckTaylorAllStars.Theybestowtheirwearerwithbothspeedandflight.”

“Great!Perfect!”Isaid.“NowIjusthavetofindthem.”Icontinuedtorunforward,eyessweepingtheground.IfoundAech’sswordaminutelaterandaddedittomyinventory,butittookmeanotherfiveminutesofsearchingbeforeIfoundArt3mis’smagicsneakers,nearthesouthendofthecrater.Iputthemon,andtheyadjustedtofitmyavatar’sfeetperfectly.

“I’llgetthesebacktoyou,Arty,”Isaid,justasIfinishedlacingthemup.

“Promise.”

“Youbetter,”shesaid.“Theyweremyfavorites.”

Itookthreerunningsteps,leaptintotheair,andthenIwasflying.

Iswoopedupandaround,thenturnedbacktowardthegate,aimingstraightforit.Butatthelastmoment,Ibankedtotheright,thenarcedbackaround.Istoppedtohoverinfrontoftheopengate.Thecrystaldoorwayhungintheairdirectlyahead,justafewyardsaway.ItremindedmeofthefloatingdoorintheopeningcreditsoftheoriginalTwilightZone.

“Whatareyouwaitingfor?”Aechshouted.“TheSixerscouldshowupanyminutenow!”

“Iknow,”Isaid.“Butthere’ssomethingIneedtosaytoallofyoubeforeIgoin.”

“Well?”Art3missaid.“Spititout!Theclockisticking,fool!”

“OK,OK!”Isaid.“IjustwantedtosaythatIknowhowthethreeofyoumustfeelrightnow.Itisn’tfair,thewaythishasplayedout.Weshouldallbeentering

thegatetogether.SobeforeIgoin,Iwantyouguystoknowsomething.IfIreachtheegg,I’mgoingtosplittheprizemoneyequallyamongthefourofus.”

Stunnedsilence.

“Hello?”Isaidafterafewseconds.“Didyouguyshearme?”

“Areyouinsane?”Aechasked.“Whywouldyoudothat,Z?”

“Becauseit’stheonlyhonorablethingtodo,”Isaid.“BecauseIneverClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd348

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:349

wouldhavegottenthisfaronmyown.Becauseallfourofusdeservetoseewhat’sinsidethatgateandfindouthowthegameends.AndbecauseIneedyourhelp.”

“Couldyourepeatthatlastbit,please?”Art3misasked.

“Ineedyourhelp,”Isaid.“Youguysareright.ThisismyonlyshotatclearingtheThirdGate.Therewon’tbeanysecondchances,foranyone.

TheSixerswillbeheresoon,andthey’llenterthegateassoonastheyarrive.SoIhavetoclearitbeforetheydo,onmyfirstattempt.Theoddsofmepullingthatoffwillincreasedrasticallyifthethreeofyouarebackingmeup.So...whatdoyousay?”

“Countmein,Z,”Aechsaid.“Iwasplanningtocoachyourdumbassanyway.”

“Countmeintoo,”saidShoto.“I’vegotnothinglefttolose.”

“Letmegetthisstraight,”Art3missaid.“Wehelpyouclearthegate,andinreturn,youagreetosplittheprizemoneywithus?”

“Wrong,”Isaid.“IfIwin,I’mgoingtosplittheprizemoneywithyouguys,regardlessofwhetheryouhelpmeornot.Sohelpingmeisprobablyinyourbest

interest.”

“Idon’tsupposewehavetimetogetthatinwriting?”Art3missaid.

Ithoughtforamoment,thenaccessedmyPOVchannel’scontrolmenu.Iinitiatedalivebroadcast,soeveryonewatchingmychannel(myratingscountersaidIcurrentlyhadmorethantwohundredmillionviewers)couldhearwhatIwasabouttosay.“Greetings,”Isaid.“ThisisWadeWatts,alsoknownasParzival.IwanttoletthewholeworldknowthatifandwhenIfindHalliday’sEasteregg,IherebyvowtosplitmywinningsequallywithArt3mis,Aech,andShoto.Crossmyheartandhopetodie.

Gunter’shonor.Pinkyswear.Allofthatcrap.IfI’mlying,IshouldbeforeverbrandedasagutlessSixer-fellatingpunk.”

AsIfinishedthebroadcast,IheardArt3missay,“Dude,areyounuts?

Iwaskidding!”

“Oh,”Isaid.“Right.Iknewthat.”

Icrackedmyknuckles,thenflewforwardintothegate,andmyavatarvanishedintothewhirlpoolofstars.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd349

5/24/112:07PM

Ifoundmyselfstandinginavast,dark,emptyspace.Icouldn’tseethewallsorceiling,butthereappearedtobeafloor,becauseIwasstandingonsomething.Iwaitedafewseconds,unsureofwhattodo.

Thenaboomingelectronicvoiceechoedthroughthevoid.Itsoundedasifitwerebeinggeneratedbyaprimitivespeechsynthesizer,likethoseusedinQ*BertandGorf.“Beatthehighscoreorbedestroyed!”thevoiceannounced.Ashaftoflightappeared,shiningdownfromsomewherehighabove.There,in

frontofme,atthebaseofthislongpillaroflight,stoodanoldcoin-operatedarcadegame.Irecognizeditsdistinctive,angularcabinetimmediately.Tempest.Atari.1980.

Iclosedmyeyesanddroppedmyhead.“Crap,”Imuttered.“Thisisnotmybestgame,gang.”

“Comeon,”IheardArt3miswhisper.“YouhadtoknowTempestwasgoingtofactorintotheThirdGatesomehow.Itwassoobvious!”

“Ohreally?”Isaid.“Why?”

“BecauseofthequoteonthelastpageoftheAlmanac,”shereplied.“‘Imustuneasymake,lesttoolightwinningmaketheprizelight.’”

“Iknowthequote,”Isaid,annoyed.“It’sfromShakespeare.ButIfigureditwasjustHalliday’swayoflettingusknowhowdifficulthewasgoingtomaketheHunt.”

“Itwas,”Art3missaid.“Butitwasalsoaclue.ThatquotewastakenfromShakespeare’sfinalplay,TheTempest.”

“Shit!”Ihissed.“HowthehelldidImissthat?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd350

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:351

“Inevermadethatconnectioneither,”Aechconfessed.“Bravo,Art3mis.”

“ThegameTempestalsoappearsbrieflyinthemusicvideoforthesong

‘Subdivisions’byRush,”sheadded.“OneofHalliday’sfavorites.Prettyhardtomiss.”

“Whoa,”Shotosaid.“She’sgood.”

“OK!”Ishouted.“Itshouldhavebeenobvious.Noneedtorubitin!”

“Itakeityou’vehaven’thadmuchpracticeatthisgame,Z?”Aechsaid.

“Alittle,alongtimeago,”Isaid.“Butnotnearlyenough.Lookatthehighscore.”Ipointedatthemonitor.Thehighscorewas728,329.TheinitialsnexttoitwereJDH—JamesDonovanHalliday.And,asIfeared,thecreditcounteratthebottomofthescreenhadanumeraloneinfrontofit.

“Yikes,”Aechsaid.“Onlyonecredit.JustlikeBlackTiger.”

Irememberedthenow-uselessextralifequarterinmyinventoryandtookitout.ButwhenIdroppeditintothecoinslot,itfellrightthroughintothecoinreturn.Ireacheddowntoremoveitandsawastickeronthecoinmechanism:tokensonly.

“Somuchforthatidea,”Isaid.“AndIdon’tseeatokenmachineanywherearoundhere.”

“Lookslikeyouonlygetonegame,”Aechsaid.“Allornothing.”

“Guys,Ihaven’tplayedTempestinyears,”Isaid.“I’mscrewed.There’snowayI’mgoingtobeatHalliday’shighscoreonmyfirstattempt.”

“Youdon’thaveto,”Art3missaid.“Lookatthecopyrightyear.”

“Nineteeneighty?”Aechsaid.“Howdoesthathelphim?”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Howdoesthathelpme?”

“ThatmeansthisistheveryfirstversionofTempest,”Art3missaid.

“Theversionthatshippedwithabuginthegamecode.WhenTempestfirsthitthearcades,kidsdiscoveredthatifyoudiedwithacertainscore,themachinewouldgiveyouabunchoffreecredits.”

“Oh,”Isaid,somewhatashamed.“Ididn’tknowthat.”

“Youwould,”Art3missaid,“ifyou’dresearchedthegameasmuchasIdid.”

“Damn,girl,”Aechsaid.“You’vegotsomeseriousknowledge.”

“Thanks,”shesaid.“Ithelpstobeanobsessive-compulsivegeek.Withnolife.”Everyonelaughedatthat,exceptme.Iwasmuchtoonervous.

“OK,Arty,”Isaid.“WhatdoIneedtodotogetthosefreegames?”

“I’mlookingitupinmyquestjournalrightnow,”shesaid.IcouldhearClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd351

5/24/112:07PM

352:ErnestCline

paperrustling.Itsoundedlikeshewasflippingthroughthepagesofanactualbook.

“Youjusthappentohaveahardcopyofyourjournalwithyou?”Iasked.

“I’vealwayskeptmyjournallonghand,inspiralnotebooks,”shesaid.

“Goodthing,too,sincemyOASISaccountandeverythinginitwasjusterased.”Moreflippingofpages.“Hereitis!First,youneedtorackupoveronehundredeightythousandpoints.Onceyou’vedonethat,makesureyouendthegamewithascorewherethelasttwodigitsareohsix,eleven,ortwelve.Ifyoudothat,you’llgetfortyfreecredits.”

“You’reabsolutelypositive?”

“Positivelyabsolutely.”

“OK,”Isaid.“Heregoes.”

Ibegantorunthroughmypregameritual.Stretching,crackingmyknuckles,rollingmyheadandneckleftandright.

“Christ,willyougetonwithit?”Aechsaid.“Thesuspenseiskillingmehere!”

“Quiet!”Shotosaid.“Givethemansomeroomtobreathe,willyou?”

EveryoneremainedsilentwhileIfinishedpsychingmyselfup.“Heregoesnothing,”Isaid.ThenIhittheflashingPlayerOnebutton.

Tempestusedold-schoolvectorgraphics,sothegame’simageswerecreatedfromglowingneonlinesdrawnagainstapitch-blackscreen.

You’regivenatop-downviewofathree-dimensionaltunnel,andyouuseaspinningrotarydialtocontrola“shooter”thattravelsaroundtherimofthetunnel.Theobjectofthegameistoshoottheenemiescrawlingupoutofthetunneltowardyouwhiledodgingtheirfireandavoidingotherobstacles.Asyouproceedfromoneleveltothenext,thetunnelstakeongraduallymorecomplexgeometricshapes,andthenumberofenemiesandobstaclescrawlinguptowardyoumultipliesdrastically.

HallidayhadputthisTempestmachineonTournamentsettings,soIcouldn’tstartthegameanyhigherthanlevelnine.Ittookmeaboutfifteenminutestogetmyscoreupabove180,000,andIlosttwolivesintheprocess.IwasevenrustierthanIthought.Whenmyscorehit189,412,Iintentionallyimpaledmyshooteronaspike,usingupmylastremaininglife.Thegamepromptedmetoentermyinitials,andInervouslytappedthemin:W-O-W.

WhenIfinished,thegame’screditcounterjumpedfromzerouptoforty.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd352

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:353

Thesoundofmyfriends’wildcheersfilledmyears,nearlygivingmeaheartattack.“Art3mis,you’reagenius,”Isaid,oncethenoisedieddown.

“Iknow.”

ItappedthePlayerOnebuttonagainandbeganasecondgame,nowfocusedonbeatingHalliday’shighscore.Istillfeltanxious,butconsiderablylessso.IfIdidn’tmanagetogetthehighscorethistime,Ihadthirty-ninemorechances.

Duringabreakbetweenwaves,Art3misspokeup.“So,yourinitialsareW-O-W?WhatdoestheOstandfor?”

“Obtuse,”Isaid.

Shelaughed.“No,seriously.”

“Owen.”

“Owen,”sherepeated.“WadeOwenWatts.That’snice.”Thenshefellsilentagainasthenextwavebegan.Ifinishedmysecondgameafewminuteslater,withascoreof219,584.Nothorrible,butafarcryfrommygoal.

“Notbad,”Aechsaid.

“Yeah,butnotthatgood,either,”Shotoobserved.ThenheseemedtorememberthatIcouldhearhim.“Imean—muchbetter,Parzival.You’redoinggreat.”

“Thanksforthevoteofconfidence,Shoto.”

“Hey,checkthisout,”Art3missaid,readingfromherjournal.“ThecreatorofTempest,DaveTheurer,originallygottheideaforthegamefromanightmarehehadaboutmonsterscrawlingupoutofaholeinthegroundandchasingafterhim.”Shelaughedherlittlemusicallaugh,whichIhadn’theardinsolong.“Isn’tthatcool,Z?”shesaid.

“Thatiscool,”Ireplied.Somehow,justhearinghervoicesetmeatease.

Ithinksheknewthis,andthatwaswhyshekepttalkingtome.Ifeltre-energized.IhitthePlayerOnebuttonagainandbeganmythirdgame.

Theyallwatchedmeplayincompletesilence.Nearlyanhourlater,Ilostmylastman.Myfinalscorewas437,977.

Assoonasthegameended,Aech’svoicecutin.“Badnews,amigo,”shesaid.

“What?”

“Wewereright.WhentheCataclystwentoff,theSixershadagroupofavatarsinreserve,waitingjustoutsidethesector.Rightafterthedetonation,they

reenteredthesectorandheadedstraightforChthonia.They...”

Hervoicetrailedoff.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd353

5/24/112:07PM

354:ErnestCline

“Theywhat?”

“Theyjustenteredthegate,aboutfiveminutesago,”Art3misanswered.

“Thegateclosedafteryouwentin,butwhentheSixersarrived,theyusedthreeoftheirownkeystoreopenit.”

“YoumeantheSixersarealreadyinsidethegate?Rightnow?”

“Eighteenofthem,”Aechsaid.“Whentheysteppedthroughthegate,eachoneenteredastand-alonesimulation.Aseparateinstanceofthegate.

AlleighteenofthemareplayingTempestrightnow,justlikeyou.TryingtobeatHalliday’shighscore.Andallofthemusedtheexploittogetfortyfreecredits.Mostofthemaren’tdoingthatwell,butoneofthemhassomeseriousskill.WethinkSorrentoisprobablyoperatingthatavatar.Hejuststartedhissecondgame—”

“Waitasecond!”Iinterrupted.“Howcanyoupossiblyknowallthis?”

“Becausewecanseethem,”Shotosaid.“EveryoneloggedintotheOASISrightnowcanseethem.Theycanseeyou,too.”

“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”

“ThemomentsomeoneenterstheThirdGate,alivevidfeedoftheiravatarappearsatthetopoftheScoreboard,”Art3missaid.“Apparently,Hallidaywantedclearingthefinalgatetobeaspectatorsport.”

“Wait,”Isaid.“YoumeantotellmethattheentireworldhasbeenwatchingmeplayTempestforthepasthour?”

“Correct,”Art3missaid.“Andthey’rewatchingyoustandthereandjabberbackatusrightnowtoo.Sowatchwhatyousay.”

“Whydidn’tyouguystellme?”Ishouted.

“Wedidn’twanttomakeyounervous,”Aechsaid.“Ordistractyou.”

“Oh,great!Perfect!Thankyou!”Iwasshouting,somewhathysterically.

“Calmdown,Parzival,”Art3missaid.“Getyourheadbackinthegame.

Thisaracenow.ThereareeighteenSixeravatarsrightbehindyou.Soyouneedtomakethisnextgamecount.Understand?”

“Yeah,”Isaid,exhalingslowly.“Iunderstand.”ItookanotherdeepbreathandpressedthePlayerOnebuttononceagain.

Asusual,competitionbroughtoutthebestinme.Thistime,Imanagedtoslipintothezone.Spinner,zapper,super-zapper,clearalevel,avoidthespikes.Myhandsbegantoworkthecontrolswithoutmyevenhavingtothinkaboutit.Iforgotaboutwhatwasatstake,andIforgotaboutthemillionsofpeoplewatchingme.Ilostmyselfinthegame.

I’dbeenplayingjustoveranhourandhadjustclearedlevel81whenClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd354

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:355

Iheardanotherwildburstofcheeringinmyears.“Youdidit,man!”IheardShotoshout.

Myeyesdarteduptothetopofthescreen.Myscorewas802,488.

Ikeptplaying,instinctivelywantingtogetthehighestscorepossible.

ButthenIheardArt3misloudlyclearherthroat,andIrealizedtherewasnoneedtogoanyfurther.Infact,Iwasnowwastingvaluableseconds,burningawaywhateverleadIstillhadontheSixers.Iquicklydepletedmytwoextralives,andgameoverflashedonthescreen.Ienteredmyinitialsagain,andtheyappearedatthetopofthelist,justaboveHalliday’shighscore.Thenthemonitorwentblank,andamessageappearedinthecenterofthescreen:

WELLDONE,PARZIVAL!

PREPAREFORSTAGE2!

Thenthegamecabinetvanished,andmyavatarvanishedwithit.

Ifoundmyselfgallopingacrossafog-coveredhillside.IassumedIwasridingahorse,becauseIwasbobbingupanddownandIheardthesoundofhoofbeats.Directlyahead,afamiliar-lookingcastlehadjustappearedoutofthefog.

ButwhenIlookeddownatmyavatar’sbody,IsawthatIwasn’tridingahorseatall.Iwaswalkingontheground.Myavatarwasnowdressedinasuitofchain-mailarmor,andmyhandswereheldoutinfrontofmybody,asthoughIwereclutchingasetofreins.ButIwasn’tholdinganything.

Myhandswerecompletelyempty.

Istoppedmovingforwardandthesoundofhoofbeatsalsoceased,butnotuntilafewsecondslater.Iturnedaroundandsawthesourceofthesound.Itwasn’tahorse.Itwasamanbangingtwococonuthalvestogether.

ThenIknewwhereIwas.InsidethefirstsceneofMontyPythonandtheHolyGrail.AnotherofHalliday’sfavoritefilms,andperhapsthemost-belovedgeekfilmofalltime.

ItappearedtobeanotherFlicksync,liketheWarGamessimulationinsideGateOne.

IwasplayingKingArthur,Irealized.IworethesamecostumeGrahamClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd355

5/24/112:07PM

356:ErnestCline

Chapmanhadworninthefilm.Andthemanwiththecoconutswasmytrustymanservant,Patsy,asplayedbyTerryGilliam.

PatsybowedandgroveledabitwhenIturnedtofacehim,butsaidnothing.

“It’sPython’sHolyGrail!”IheardShotowhisperexcitedly.

“Duh,”Isaid,forgettingmyselfforasecond.“Iknowthat,Shoto.”

Awarningflashedonmydisplay:incorrectdialogue!Ascoreof

–100pointsappearedinthecornerofmydisplay.

“Smoothmove,Ex-lax,”IheardArt3missay.

“Justletusknowifyouneedanyhelp,Z,”Aechsaid.“Waveyourhandsorsomething,andwe’llfeedyouthenextline.”

Inoddedandgaveathumbs-up.ButIdidn’tthinkIwasgoingtoneedmuchhelp.Overthepastsixyears,I’dwatchedHolyGrailexactly157

times.Ikneweverywordbyheart.

Iglancedbackupatthecastleaheadofme,alreadyawareofwhatwaswaitingformethere.Ibeganto“gallop”again,holdingmyinvisiblereinsasIpretendedtorideforward.Onceagain,Patsybegantobanghiscoconuthalvestogether,gallopingalongbehindme.Whenwereachedtheentranceofthecastle,Ipulledbackonmy“reins”andbroughtmy“steed”

toahalt.

“Whoathere!”Ishouted.

Myscoreincreasedby100points,bringingitbackuptozero.

Oncue,twosoldiersappearedupabove,leaningoverthecastlewall.

“Whogoesthere?”oneofthemshouteddownatus.

“ItisI,Arthur,sonofUtherPendragon,fromthecastleofCamelot,”

Irecited.“KingoftheBritons!DefeateroftheSaxons!SovereignofallEngland!”

Myscorejumpedanother500points,andamessageinformedmethatI’dreceivedabonusformyaccentandinflection.Ifeltmyselfrelax,andIrealizedIwasalreadyhavingfun.

“Pulltheotherone!”thesoldierreplied.

“Iam,”Icontinued.“AndthisismytrustyservantPatsy.WehaveriddenthelengthandbreadthofthelandinsearchofknightswhowilljoinmeinmycourtatCamelot.Imustspeakwithyourlordandmaster!”

Another500points.Inmyear,Icouldhearmyfriendsgigglingandapplauding.

“What?”theothersoldierreplied.“Riddenonahorse?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd356

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:357

“Yes!”Isaid.100points.

“You’reusingcoconuts!”

“What?”Isaid.100points.

“You’vegottwoemptyhalvesofcoconutandyou’rebangin’’emtogether!”

“So?Wehaveriddensincethesnowsofwintercoveredthisland,throughthekingdomofMercia,through—”Another500points.

“Where’dyougetthecoconuts?”

Andsoitwent.ThecharacterIwasplayingchangedfromonescenetothenext,switchingtowhomeverhadthemostdialogue.Incredibly,Iflubbedonlysixorsevenlines.EachtimeIgotstumped,allIhadtodowasshrugandholdoutmyhands,palmsup—mysignalthatIneededsomehelp—andAech,Art3mis,andShotowouldallgleefullyfeedmethecorrectline.Therestofthetimetheyremainedsilentexceptfortheoccasionalgigglefitorburstoflaughter.Theonlyreallydifficultpartwasnotlaughingmyself,especiallywhenArt3misstarteddoingnote-perfectrecitationsofallofCarolCleveland’slinesintheCastleAnthraxscene.Icrackedupafewtimesandgothitwithscorepenaltiesforit.Otherwise,itwassmoothsailing.

Reenactingthefilmwasn’tjusteasy—itwasatotalblast.

Abouthalfwaythroughthemovie,rightaftermyconfrontationwiththeKnightsofNi,Iopenedupatextwindowonmydisplayandtypedstatusonthesixers?

“FifteenofthemarestillplayingTempest,”IheardAechreply.“ButthreeofthembeatHalliday’sscoreandarenowinsidetheGrailsimulation.”Abriefpause.“Andtheleader—Sorrento,wethink—isrunningjustnineminutesbehindyou.”

“Andsofar,hehasn’tmissedasinglelineofdialogue,”Shotoadded.

Inearlycursedoutloud,thencaughtmyselfandtypedshit!

“Exactly,”Art3missaid.

Itookadeepbreathandreturnedmyattentiontothenextscene(“TheTaleofSirLauncelot”).AechcontinuedtogivemeupdatesontheSixerswheneverIaskedforthem.

WhenIreachedthefilm’sfinalscene(theassaultontheFrenchCastle),Igrewanxiousagain,wonderingwhatwouldhappennext.TheFirstGatehadrequiredmetoreenactamovie(WarGames),andtheSecondGatehadcontainedavideogamechallenge(BlackTiger).Sofar,theThirdClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd357

5/24/112:07PM

358:ErnestCline

Gatehadcontainedboth.Iknewtheremustbeathirdstage,butIhadnoideawhatitmightbe.

Igotmyanswerafewminuteslater.AssoonasIcompletedHolyGrail’sfinalscene,mydisplaywentblackwhilethesillyorganmusicthatendsthefilmplayedforafewminutes.Whenthemusicstopped,thefollowingappearedonmydisplay:

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOUHAVEREACHEDTHEEND!

READYPLAYER1

Andthen,asthetextfadedaway,Ifoundmyselfstandinginahugeoak-paneledroomasbigasawarehouse,withahighvaultedceilingandapolishedhardwoodfloor.Theroomhadnowindows,andonlyoneexit—

largedoubledoorssetintooneofthefourbarewalls.Anolderhigh-endOASISimmersionrigstoodintheabsolutecenteroftheexpansiveroom.

Overahundredglasstablessurroundedtherig,arrangedinalargeovalaroundit.Oneachtabletherewasadifferentclassichomecomputerorvideogamesystem,accompaniedbytieredracksthatappearedtoholdacompletecollectionofitsperipherals,controllers,software,andgames.

Allofitwasarrangedperfectly,likeamuseumexhibit.Lookingaroundthecircle,fromonesystemtothenext,Isawthatthecomputersseemedtobearrangedroughlybyyearoforigin.APDP-1.AnAltair8800.AnIMSAI8080.AnAppleI,rightnexttoanAppleII.AnAtari2600.ACommodorePET.AnIntellivision.SeveraldifferentTRS-80models.AnAtari400and800.AColecoVision.ATI-99/4.ASinclairZX80.ACommodore64.VariousNintendoandSegagamesystems.TheentirelineageofMacsandPCs,PlayStationsandXboxes.Finally,completingthecircle,wasanOASISconsole—connectedtotheimmersionriginthecenteroftheroom.

IrealizedthatIwasstandinginare-creationofJamesHalliday’soffice,theroominhismansionwherehe’dspentmostofthelastfifteenyearsofhislife.Theplacewherehe’dcodedhislastandgreatestgame.TheoneIwasnowplaying.

I’dneverseenanyphotosofthisroom,butitslayoutandcontentshadbeendescribedingreatdetailbythemovershiredtocleartheplaceoutafterHalliday’sdeath.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd358

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:359

IlookeddownatmyavatarandsawthatInolongerappearedasoneoftheMontyPythonknights.IwasParzivalonceagain.

First,Ididtheobviousandtriedtheexit.Thedoorswouldn’tbudge.

Iturnedbackandtookanotherlonglookaroundtheroom,surveyingthelonglineofmonumentstothehistoryofcomputingandvideogames.

ThatwaswhenIrealizedthattheoval-shapedringinwhichtheywerearrangedactuallyformedtheoutlineofanegg.

Inmyhead,IrecitedthewordsofHalliday’sfirstriddle,theoneinAnorak’sInvitation:

I’dreachedtheend.Thiswasit.Halliday’sEastereggmustbehiddensomewhereinthisroom.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd359

5/24/112:07PM

“Doyouguysseethis?”Iwhispered.

Therewasnoreply.

“Hello?Aech?Art3mis?Shoto?Areyouguysstillthere?”

Stillnoreply.EitherOghadcuttheirvoicelinkstome,orHallidayhadcodedthisfinalstageofthegatesothatnooutsidecommunicationwaspossible.Iwasprettysureitwasthelatter.

Istoodthereinsilenceforaminute,unsureofwhattodo.ThenIfollowedmyfirstinstinctandwalkedovertotheAtari2600.Itwashookeduptoa1977ZenithColorTV.IturnedontheTV,butnothinghappened.

ThenIswitchedontheAtari.Stillnothing.Therewasnopower,eventhoughboththeTVandtheAtariwerepluggedintoelectricaloutletssetintothefloor.

ItriedtheAppleIIonthetablebesideit.Itwouldn’tswitchoneither.

Afterafewminutesofexperimentation,Idiscoveredthattheonlycomputerthatwouldpoweronwasoneoftheoldest,theIMSAI8080,thesamemodelofcomputerMatthewBroderickownedinWarGames.

WhenIbooteditup,thescreenwascompletelyblank,saveforoneword.

LOGIN:

ItypedinanorakandhitEnter.

IDENTIFICATIONNOTRECOGNIZED—CONNECTIONTERMINATED.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd360

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:361

ThenthecomputershutitselfoffandIhadtopoweritbackontogettheloginpromptagain.

Itriedhalliday.Nodice.

InWarGames,thebackdoorpasswordthathadgrantedaccesstotheWOPRsupercomputerwas“Joshua.”ProfessorFalken,thecreatoroftheWOPR,hadusedthenameofhissonforthepassword.Thepersonhe’dlovedmostintheworld.

Itypedinog.Itdidn’twork.ogdendidn’tworkeither.

ItypedinkiraandhittheEnterkey.

IDENTIFICATIONNOTRECOGNIZED—CONNECTIONTERMINATED.

Itriedeachofhisparents’firstnames.Itriedzaphod,thenameofhispetfish.Thentiberius,thenameofaferrethe’donceowned.

Noneofthemworked.

Icheckedthetime.I’dbeeninthisroomforovertenminutesnow.

WhichmeantthatSorrentohadcaughtupwithme.Sohewouldnowbeinsidehisownseparatecopyofthisroom,probablywithateamofHallidayscholarswhisperingsuggestionsinhisear,thankstohishackedimmersionrig.Theywereprobablyalreadyworkingfromaprioritizedlistofpossibilities,enteringthemasfastasSorrentocouldtype.

Iwasoutoftime.

Iclenchedmyteethinfrustration.Ihadnoideawhattotrynext.

ThenIrememberedalinefromOgdenMorrow’sbiography:TheoppositesexmadeJimextremelynervous,andKirawastheonlygirlthatIeversawhim

speaktoinarelaxedmanner.Buteventhen,itwasonlyin-character,asAnorak,duringthecourseofourgamingsessions,andhewouldonlyaddressherasLeucosia,thenameofherD&Dcharacter.

Irebootedthecomputeragain.Whentheloginpromptreappeared,Itypedinleucosia.ThenIhittheEnterkey.

Everysystemintheroompowereditselfon.Thesoundsofwhirringdiskdrives,self-testbeeps,andotherboot-upsoundsechoedoffthevaultedceiling.

IranbackovertotheAtari2600andsearchedthroughthegiantrackofalphabetizedgamecartridgesbesideituntilIfoundtheoneIwaslookingfor:Adventure.IshoveditintotheAtariandturnedthesystemon,thenhittheResetswitchtostartthegame.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd361

5/24/112:07PM

362:ErnestCline

IttookmeonlyafewminutestoreachtheSecretRoom.

Igrabbedtheswordandusedittoslayallthreeofthedragons.ThenIfoundtheblackkey,openedthegatesoftheBlackCastle,andventuredintoitslabyrinth.Thegraydotwashiddenrightwhereitwassupposedtobe.Ipickeditupandcarrieditbackacrossthetiny8-bitkingdom,thenusedittopassthroughthemagicbarrierandentertheSecretRoom.

ButunliketheoriginalAtarigame,thisSecretRoomdidn’tcontainthenameofWarrenRobinett,Adventure’soriginalprogrammer.Instead,attheverycenterofthescreen,therewasalargewhiteovalwithpixelatededges.Anegg.

Theegg.

IstaredattheTVscreeninstunnedsilenceforamoment.ThenIpulledtheAtarijoysticktotheright,movingmytinysquareavataracrosstheflickeringscreen.TheTV’smonospeakeremittedabriefelectronicbipsoundasIdroppedthe

graydotandpickeduptheegg.AsIdid,therewasabrilliantflashoflight,andthenIsawthatmyavatarwasnolongerholdingajoystick.Now,cuppedinbothofmyhands,wasalargesilveregg.Icouldseemyavatar’swarpedreflectiononitscurvedsurface.

WhenIfinallymanagedtostopstaringatit,Ilookedupandsawthatthedoubledoorsontheothersideoftheroomhadbeenreplacedwiththegateexit—acrystal-edgedportalleadingbackintothefoyerofCastleAnorak.Thecastleappearedtohavebeencompletelyrestored,eventhoughtheOASISserverstillwouldn’tresetforseveralmorehours.

ItookonelastlookaroundHalliday’soffice;then,stillclutchingtheegginmyhands,Iwalkedacrosstheroomandsteppedthroughtheexit.

AssoonasIwasthroughit,IturnedaroundjustintimetoseetheCrystalGatetransformintoalargewoodendoorsetintothecastlewall.

Iopenedthewoodendoor.BeyondittherewasaspiralstaircasethatleduptothetopofCastleAnorak’stallesttower.There,IfoundAnorak’sstudy.Toweringshelveslinedtheroom,filledwithancientscrollsanddustyspellbooks.

Iwalkedovertothewindowandlookedoutonastunningviewofthesurroundinglandscape.Itwasnolongerbarren.TheeffectsoftheCataclysthadbeenundone,andallofChthoniaappearedtobehavebeenrestoredalongwiththecastle.

Ilookedaroundtheroom.Directlybeneaththefamiliarblackdragonpaintingtherewasanornatecrystalpedestalonwhichrestedagoldchal-Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd362

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:363

iceencrustedwithtinyjewels.ItsdiametermatchedthatofthesilvereggIheldinmyhands.

Iplacedtheegginthechalice,anditfitperfectly.

Inthedistance,Iheardafanfareoftrumpets,andtheeggbegantoglow.

“Youwin,”Iheardavoicesay.IturnedandsawthatAnorakwasstandingrightbehindme.Hisobsidianblackrobesseemedtopullmostofthesunlightoutoftheroom.“Congratulations,”hesaid,stretchingouthislong-fingeredhand.

Ihesitated,wonderingifthiswasanothertrick.Orperhapsonefinaltest...

“Thegameisover,”Anoraksaid,asifhe’dreadmymind.“It’stimeforyoutoreceiveyourprize.”

Ilookeddownathisoutstretchedhand.Then,afteramoment’shesitation,Itookit.

Cascadingboltsofbluelightningeruptedinthespacebetweenus,andtheirspiderwebtinesenvelopedusboth,asifasurgeofpowerwerepassingfromhisavatarintomine.Whenthelightningsubsided,IsawthatAnorakwasnolongerdressedinhisblackwizard’srobes.Infact,henolongerlookedlikeAnorakatall.Hewasshorter,thinner,andsomewhatlesshandsome.NowhelookedlikeJamesHalliday.Pale.Middle-aged.HewasdressedinwornjeansandafadedSpaceInvadersT-shirt.

IlookeddownatmyownavataranddiscoveredthatIwasnowwearingAnorak’srobes.ThenIrealizedthattheiconsandreadoutsaroundtheedgeofmydisplayhadalsochanged.Mystatswereallcompletelymaxxedout,andInowhadalistofspells,inherentpowers,andmagicitemsthatseemedtoscrollonforever.

Myavatar’slevelandhit-pointcountersbothhadinfinitysymbolsinfrontofthem.

Andmycreditreadoutnowdisplayedanumbertwelvedigitslong.Iwasamultibillionaire.

“I’mentrustingthecareoftheOASIStoyounow,Parzival,”Hallidaysaid.

“Youravatarisimmortalandall-powerful.Whateveryouwant,allyouhavetodoiswishforit.Prettysweet,eh?”Heleanedtowardmeandloweredhisvoice.“Domeafavor.Tryanduseyourpowersonlyforgood.OK?”

“OK,”Isaid,inavoicethatwasbarelyawhisper.

Hallidaysmiled,thengesturedaroundus.“Thisisyourcastlenow.I’veClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd363

5/24/112:07PM

364:ErnestCline

codedthisroomsothatonlyyouravatarcanenterit.Ididthistoensurethatyoualonehaveaccesstothis.”Hewalkedovertoabookshelfagainstthewallandpulledonthespineofoneofthevolumesitheld.Iheardaclick;thenthebookshelfslidaside,revealingasquaremetalplatesetintothewall.Inthecenteroftheplatetherewasacomicallylargeredbuttonembossedwithasingleword:off.

“IcallthistheBigRedButton,”Hallidaysaid.“Ifyoupressit,itwillshutofftheentireOASISandlaunchawormthatwilldeleteeverythingstoredontheGSSservers,includingalloftheOASISsourcecode.ItwillshutdowntheOASISforever.”Hesmirked.“Sodon’tpressitunlessyou’reabsolutelypositiveit’stherightthingtodo,OK?”Hegavemeanoddsmile.“Itrustyourjudgment.”

Hallidayslidthebookshelfbackintoplace,concealingthebuttononceagain.Thenhestartledmebyputtinghisarmaroundmyshoulders.“Listen,”hesaid,adoptingaconfidentialtone.“IneedtotellyouonelastthingbeforeIgo.SomethingIdidn’tfigureoutformyselfuntilitwasalreadytoolate.”Heledmeovertothewindowandmotionedoutatthelandscapestretchingoutbeyondit.“IcreatedtheOASISbecauseIneverfeltathomeintherealworld.Ididn’tknowhowtoconnectwiththepeoplethere.Iwasafraid,forallofmylife.RightupuntilIknewitwasending.

ThatwaswhenIrealized,asterrifyingandpainfulasrealitycanbe,it’salsotheonlyplacewhereyoucanfindtruehappiness.Becauserealityisreal.Doyouunderstand?”

“Yes,”Isaid.“IthinkIdo.”

“Good,”hesaid,givingmeawink.“Don’tmakethesamemistakeIdid.Don’thideinhereforever.”

Hesmiledandtookafewstepsawayfromme.“Allright.Ithinkthatcoverseverything.It’stimeformetoblowthispopstand.”

ThenHallidaybegantodisappear.Hesmiledandwavedgood-byeashisavatarslowlyfadedoutofexistence.

“Goodluck,Parzival,”hesaid.“Andthanks.Thanksforplayingmygame.”

Thenhewascompletelygone.

“Areyouguysthere?”Isaidtotheemptyairafewminuteslater.

“Yes!”Aechsaidexcitedly.“Canyouhearus?”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd364

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:365

“Yeah.Icannow.Whathappened?”

“ThesystemcutoffourvoicelinkstoyouassoonasyouenteredHalliday’soffice,sowecouldn’ttalktoyou.”

“Luckily,youdidn’tneedourhelpanyway,”Shotosaid.“Goodjob,man.”

“Congratulations,Wade,”IheardArt3missay.AndIcouldtellshemeantittoo.

“Thanks,”Isaid.“ButIcouldn’thavedoneitwithoutyouguys.”

“You’reright,”Art3missaid.“Remembertomentionthatwhenyoutalktothemedia.Ogsaysthereareafewhundredreportersontheirwayhererightnow.”

IglancedbackoveratthebookshelfthatconcealedtheBigRedButton.

“DidyouguysseeeverythingHallidaysaidtomebeforehevanished?”Iasked.

“No,”Art3missaid.“Wesaweverythingupuntilhetoldyouto‘tryanduseyourpowersonlyforgood.’Thenyourvidfeedcutout.Whathappenedafterthat?”

“Nothingmuch,”Isaid.“I’lltellyouaboutitlater.”

“Dude,”Aechsaid.“You’vegottochecktheScoreboard.”

IopenedawindowandpulleduptheScoreboard.Thelistofhighscoreswasgone.NowtheonlythingdisplayedonHalliday’swebsitewasanimageofmyavatar,dressedinAnorak’srobes,holdingthesilveregg,alongwiththewordsparzivalwins!

“WhathappenedtotheSixers?”Iasked.“Theoneswhowerestillinsidethegate?”

“We’renotsure,”Aechsaid.“TheirvidfeedsvanishedwhentheScoreboardchanged.”

“Maybetheiravatarswerekilled,”Shotosaid.“Ormaybe...”

“Maybetheywerejustejectedfromthegate,”Isaid.

IpulledupmymapofChthoniaandsawthatIcouldnowteleportanywhereintheOASISsimplybyselectingmydesireddestinationintheatlas.IzoomedinonCastleAnorakandtappedaspotjustoutsidethefrontentrance,andinablink,myavatarwasstandingthere.

Iwasright.WhenI’dclearedtheThirdGate,theeighteenSixeravatarswhowerestillinsidehadbeenejectedfromthegateanddepositedinfrontofthecastle.TheywereallstandingtherewithconfusedlooksontheirfaceswhenIappearedinfrontofthem,resplendentinmynewthreads.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd365

5/24/112:07PM

366:ErnestCline

Theyallstaredatmeinsilenceforafewseconds,thenpulledoutgunsandswords,preparingtoattack.Theyalllookedidentical,soIcouldn’ttellwhichonewasbeingcontrolledbySorrento.Butatthispoint,Ididn’treallycare.

Usingmyavatar’snewsuperuserinterface,Imadeasweepinggesturewithmyhand,selectingalloftheSixeravatarsonmydisplay.Theiroutlinesbegantoglowred.ThenItappedtheskull-and-crossbonesiconthatnowappearedonmyavatar’stoolbar.AlleighteenSixeravatarsinstantlydroppeddead.Theirbodiesslowlyfadedoutofexistence,eachleavingbehindatinypileofweaponsandloot.

“Holyshit!”IheardShotosayoverthecomlink.“Howdidyoudothat?”

“YouheardHalliday,”Aechsaid.“Hisavatarisimmortalandall-powerful.”

“Yeah,”Isaid.“Hewasn’tkidding,either.”

“Hallidayalsosaidyoucouldwishforwhateveryouwanted,”Aechsaid.“Whatareyougonnawishforfirst?”

Ithoughtaboutthatforasecond;thenItappedthenewCommandiconthatnowappearedattheedgeofmydisplayandsaid,“IwishforAech,Art3mis,andShototoberesurrected.”

Adialogwindowpoppedup,askingmetoconfirmthespellingofeachoftheiravatarnames.OnceIdid,thesystemaskedmeif,inadditiontoresurrectingtheiravatars,Iwantedtorestorealloftheirlostitems,too.ItappedtheYesicon.Thenamessageappearedinthecenterofmydisplay:resurrectioncomplete.avatarsrestored.

“Guys?”Isaid.“Youmightwanttotryloggingbackintoyouraccountsnow.”

“We’realreadyonourway!”Aechshouted.

Afewsecondslater,Shotologgedbackintohisaccount,andhisavatarmaterializedashortdistanceinfrontofme,intheexactspotwherehe’dbeen

killedafewhoursearlier.Heranovertome,grinningfromeartoear.“Arigato,Parzival-san,”hesaid,bowinglow.

Ireturnedthebow,thenthrewmyarmsaroundhim.“Welcomeback,”

Isaid.Amomentlater,Aechemergedfromthecastleentranceandranovertojoinus.

“Goodasnew,”hesaid,grinningdownathisrestoredavatar.

“Thanks,Z.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd366

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:367

“Denada.”Iglancedbackthroughthecastle’sopenentrance.“Where’sArt3mis?Sheshouldhavereappearedrightnexttoyou—”

“Shedidn’tlogbackin,”Aechsaid.“Shesaidshewantedtogooutsideandgetsomefreshair.”

“Yousawher?What—?”Isearchedfortherightwords.“Howdidshelook?”

Theybothjustsmiledatme;thenAechrestedahandonmyshoulder.

“Shesaidshe’dbeoutsidewaitingforyou.Wheneveryou’rereadytomeether.”

Inodded.IwasabouttotapmyLog-outiconwhenAechheldupher—

his—hand.“Waitasecond!Beforeyoulogout,you’vegottoseesomething,”hesaid,openingawindowinfrontofme.“Thisisairingonallofthenewsfeedsrightnow.ThefedsjusttookSorrentoinforquestioning.

TheystormedintoIOIheadquartersandyankedhimrightoutofhishapticchair!”

Avideoclipbegantoplay.HandheldcamerafootageshowedateamoffederalagentsleadingSorrentoacrossthelobbyoftheIOIcorporateheadquarters.Hewasstillwearinghishapticsuitandwasshadowedbyagray-hairedmaninasuitwhoIassumedwashisattorney.Sorrentolookedannoyedmorethananything,asifthiswerealljustamildin-convenience.Thecaptionalongthebottomofthewindowread:TopIOIExecutiveSorrentoAccusedofMurder.

“ThenewsfeedshavebeenplayingclipsfromthesimcapofyourchatlinksessionwithSorrentoallday,”Aechsaid,pausingtheclip.“Especiallythepartwherehethreatenstokillyouandthenblowsupyouraunt’strailer.”

AechhitPlay,andthenewsclipcontinued.ThefederalagentscontinuedtousherSorrentothroughthelobby,whichwaspackedwithreporters,allpushingagainstoneanotherandshoutingquestions.ThereportershootingthevideowewerewatchinglungedforwardandjammedthecamerainSorrento’sface.“DidyougivetheordertokillWadeWattspersonally?”thereportershouted.“Howdoesitfeeltoknowyoujustlostthecontest?”

Sorrentosmiled,butdidn’treply.Thenhisattorneysteppedinfrontofthecameraandaddressedthereporters.“Thechargesleveledagainstmyclientarepreposterous,”hesaid.“Thesimcapbeingcirculatedisclearlyadoctoredfake.Wehavenoothercommentatthistime.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd367

5/24/112:07PM

368:ErnestCline

Sorrentonodded.Hecontinuedtosmileasthefedsledhimoutofthebuilding.

“Thebastardwillprobablygetoffscot-free,”Isaid.“IOIcanaffordtohirethebestlawyersintheworld.”

“Yes,theycan,”Aechsaid.ThenheflashedhisCheshiregrin.“Butnowsocanwe.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd368

5/24/112:07PM

WhenIsteppedoutoftheimmersionbay,Ogwasstandingtherewaitingforme.“Welldone,Wade!”hesaid,pullingmeintoacrushingbearhug.“Welldone!”

“Thanks,Og.”Iwasstilldazedandfeltunsteadyonmyfeet.

“SeveralchiefexecutivesfromGSSarrivedwhileyouwereloggedin,”

Ogsaid.“AlongwithallofJim’slawyers.They’reallwaitingupstairs.Asyoucanimagine,they’reanxioustospeakwithyou.”

“DoIhavetotalktothemrightnow?”

“No,ofcoursenot!”Helaughed.“Theyallworkforyounow,remember?Makethebastardswaitaslongasyoulike!”Heleanedforward.“Mylawyerisuptheretoo.He’sagoodguy.Arealpitbull.He’llmakesurethatnoonemesseswithyou,OK?”

“Thanks,Og,”Isaid.“Ireallyoweyou.”

“Nonsense!”hesaid.“Ishouldbethankingyou.Ihaven’thadthismuchfunindecades!Youdidgood,kid.”

Iglancedarounduncertainly.AechandShotowerestillintheirimmersionbays,holdinganimpromptuonlinepressconference.ButArt3mis’sbaywasempty.IturnedbacktoOg.

“DoyouknowwhichwayArt3miswent?”

Oggrinnedatme,thenpointed.“Upthosestairsandoutthefirstdooryousee,”hesaid.“Shesaidshe’dwaitforyouatthecenterofmyhedgemaze.”Hesmiled.“It’saneasymaze.Itshouldn’ttakeyouverylongtofindher.”

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd369

5/24/112:07PM

370:ErnestCline

Isteppedoutsideandsquintedasmyeyesadjustedtothelight.Theairwaswarm,andthesunwasalreadyhighoverheard.Therewasn’tacloudinthesky.

Itwasabeautifulday.

Thehedgemazecoveredseveralacresoflandbehindthemansion.Theentrancewasdesignedtolooklikethefacadeofacastle,andyouenteredthemazethroughitsopengates.Thedensehedgewallsthatcomprisedthemazeweretenfeettall,makingitimpossibletopeekoverthem,evenifyoustoodontopofoneofthebenchesplacedthroughoutthelabyrinth.

Ienteredthemazeandwanderedaroundincirclesforafewminutes,confused.Eventually,Irealizedthatthemaze’slayoutwasidenticaltothelabyrinthinAdventure.

Afterthat,ittookmeonlyafewmoreminutestofindmywaytothelargeopenareaatthemaze’scenter.Alargefountainstoodthere,withadetailedstonesculptureofAdventure’sthreeduck-shapeddragons.Eachdragonwasspittingastreamofwaterinsteadofbreathingfire.

AndthenIsawher.

Shewassittingonastonebench,staringintothefountain.Shehadherbacktome,andherheadwastilteddown.Herlongblackhairspilleddownoverherrightshoulder.Icouldseethatshewaskneadingherhandsinherlap.

Iwasafraidtomoveanycloser.Finally,Iworkedupthecouragetospeak.“Hello,”Isaid.

Sheliftedherheadatthesoundofmyvoice,butdidn’tturnaround.

“Hello,”Iheardhersay.Anditwashervoice.Art3mis’svoice.ThevoiceI’dspentsomanyhourslisteningto.Andthatgavemethecouragetostepforward.

IwalkedaroundthefountainandstoppedonceIwasstandingdirectlyinfrontofher.Assheheardmeapproach,sheturnedherheadaway,avertinghereyesand

keepingmeoutofherfieldofvision.

ButIcouldseeher.

ShelookedjustasshehadinthephotoI’dseen.ShehadthesameRubenesquebody.Thesamepale,freckledskin.Thesamehazeleyesandravenhair.Thesamebeautifulroundface,withthesamereddishbirthmark.Butunlikeinthatphoto,shewasn’ttryingtohidethebirthmarkwithasweepofherhair.Shehadherhairbrushedback,soIcouldseeit.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd370

5/24/112:07PM

ReadyPlayerOne:371

Iwaitedinsilence.Butshestillwouldn’tlookupatme.

“YoulookjustlikeIalwayspicturedyou,”Isaid.“Beautiful.”

“Really?”shesaidsoftly.Slowly,sheturnedtofaceme,takinginmyappearancealittleatatime,startingwithmyfeetandthengraduallyworkingherwayuptomyface.Whenoureyesfinallymet,shesmiledatmenervously.“Well,whatdoyouknow?YoulookjustlikeIalwaysthoughtyouwouldtoo,”shesaid.“Buttugly.”

Webothlaughed,andmostofthetensionintheairdissipated.Thenwestaredintoeachother’seyesforwhatseemedlikealongtime.Itwas,Irealized,alsotheveryfirsttime.

“Wehaven’tbeenformallyintroduced,”shesaid.“I’mSamantha.”

“Hello,Samantha.I’mWade.”

“It’snicetofinallymeetyouinperson,Wade.”

Shepattedthebenchbesideher,andIsatdown.

Afteralongsilence,shesaid,“Sowhathappensnow?”

Ismiled.“We’regoingtouseallofthemoolahwejustwontofeedeveryoneontheplanet.We’regoingtomaketheworldabetterplace,right?”

Shegrinned.“Don’tyouwanttobuildahugeinterstellarspaceship,loaditfullofvideogames,junkfood,andcomfycouches,andthengetthehelloutofhere?”

“I’mupforthat,too,”Isaid.“IfitmeansIgettospendtherestofmylifewithyou.”

Shegavemeashysmile.“We’llhavetosee,”shesaid.“Wejustmet,youknow.”

“I’minlovewithyou.”

Herlowerlipstartedtotremble.“You’resureaboutthat?”

“Yes.Iam.Becauseit’strue.”

Shesmiledatme,butIalsosawthatshewascrying.“I’msorryforbreakingthingsoffwithyou,”shesaid.“Fordisappearingfromyourlife.

Ijust—”

“It’sOK,”Isaid.“Iunderstandwhyyoudiditnow.”

Shelookedrelieved.“Youdo?”

Inodded.“Youdidtherightthing.”

“Youthinkso?”

“Wewon,didn’twe?”

Shesmiledatme,andIsmiledback.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd371

5/24/112:07PM

372:ErnestCline

“Listen,”Isaid.“Wecantakethingsasslowasyoulike.I’mreallyaniceguy,onceyougettoknowme.Iswear.”

Shelaughedandwipedawayafewofhertears,butshedidn’tsayanything.

“DidImentionthatI’malsoextremelyrich?”Isaid.“Ofcourse,soareyou,soIdon’tsupposethat’sabigsellingpoint.”

“Youdon’tneedtosellmeonanything,Wade,”shesaid.“You’remybestfriend.Myfavoriteperson.”Withwhatappearedtobesomeeffort,shelookedmeintheeye.“I’vereallymissedyou,youknowthat?”

Myheartfeltlikeitwasonfire.Itookamomenttoworkupmycourage;thenIreachedoutandtookherhand.Wesatthereawhile,holdinghands,revelinginthestrangenewsensationofactuallytouchingoneanother.

Sometimelater,sheleanedoverandkissedme.Itfeltjustlikeallthosesongsandpoemshadpromiseditwould.Itfeltwonderful.Likebeingstruckbylightning.

ItoccurredtomethenthatforthefirsttimeinaslongasIcouldremember,IhadabsolutelynodesiretologbackintotheOASIS.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd372

5/24/112:07PM

Acknowledgments

Manyofmyfavoritepeopleweresubjectedtoearlydraftsofthisbook,andeachofthemgavemeinvaluablefeedbackandencouragement.MysincerethankstoEricCline,SusanSomers-Willett,ChrisBeaver,HarryKnowles,AmberBird,IngridRichter,SaraSutterfieldWinn,JeffKnight,HilaryThomas,AnneMiano,TonieKnight,NicholeCook,CristinO’KeefeAptowicz,JaySmith,MikeHenry,JedStrahm,AndyHowell,andChrisFry.

I’malsoindebtedtoYfatReissGendell,theCoolestAgentintheKnownUniverse,whomanagedtomakeseveralofmylifelongdreamscometruejustafewmonthsafterImether.ThanksalsotoStéphanieAbou,Han-nahBrownGordon,CeciliaCampbell-Westlind,andalloftheawesomefolksatFoundryLiteraryandMedia.

Ahugeshout-outtotheamazingDanFarah,myfriend,manager,andHollywoodpartnerincrime.MygratitudealsogoesouttoDonaldDeLine,AndrewHaas,andJesseEhrmanatWarnerBros.,forbelievingthatthisbookwillmakeagreatmovie.

ThankstotheincrediblytalentedandsupportiveteamatCrown,includingPattyBerg,SarahBreivogel,JacobBronstein,DavidDrake,JillFlaxman,JacquiLebow,RachelleMandik,MayaMavjee,SethMorris,MichaelPalgon,TinaPohlman,AnnsleyRosner,andMollyStern.Andtomyfantasticcopyeditor,DeannaHoak,whofoundtheSecretRoominAdventurebackintheday.

IoweaspecialdebtofgratitudetoJulianPavia,mybrillianteditor,whobelievedinmyabilityasawriterlongbeforeIfinishedthisbook.Julian’sstartlingintelligence,insight,andrelentlessattentiontodetailhelpedmeClin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd373

5/24/112:07PM

374:Acknowledgments

shapeReadyPlayerOneintothebookI’dalwayswantedittobe,andhemademeabetterwriterintheprocess.

Finally,Iwanttothankallofthewriters,filmmakers,actors,artists,musicians,programmers,gamedesigners,andgeekswhoseworkI’vepaidtributetointhisstory.Thesepeoplehaveallentertainedanden-lightenedme,andIhopethat—likeHalliday’shunt—thisbookwillinspireotherstoseekouttheircreations.

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd374

5/24/112:07PM

abouttheauthor

ErnestClinelivesinAustin,Texas,

wherehedevotesalargeportionofhistimetogeekingout.Thisishisfirstnovel.

Formoreinformationpleasevisit:

www.ernestcline.com

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd375

5/24/112:07PM

Clin_9780307887436_5p_all_r1.indd376

5/24/112:07PM

Ready Player Onefree.epubebooks.net/ebooks/books/ready-player-one-ok.pdf · “Pure geek heaven....

Documents

Transcript of Ready Player Onefree.epubebooks.net/ebooks/books/ready-player-one-ok.pdf · “Pure geek heaven....

A group of ready-made player characters for the World of ...

19â€ HD Ready Digital LCD TV with DVD Player

Country’s Mane Event · Patsy Cline as her steel guitar player, did Cline’s hair on the road. Cox also divulged another secret behind a ‘90s star chopping her hair. “As a

Windows Media Player Player

22” HD Ready 1080p Digital LCD TV With DVD Playerdocuments.knowhow.com/TV-Home Entertainment/Logik... · 22” HD Ready 1080p Digital LCD TV With DVD Player ... on the purchase

19” HD Ready Digital LCD TV with DVD Player€ HD Ready Digital LCD TV with DVD Player Instruction Manual L19DVDP10 L19DVDB20 Logik L19DVDP10_B20_IB_100914_Zell.indd 1 14/09/2010

Using QuickTime Player to Record PMOPS · You are now ready to launch Quicktime Player by clicking on the icon at the bottom of the screen. 4.When QuickTime Player has finished launching,

COMPANY PRESENTATION - MOLOGEN AG€¦ · COMPANY PRESENTATION ... German research player transitioning to global market ready ... natural killer cell I NKT cell natural killer T

Enjoy “Explorer” Jeopardy! Ligers vs. Mean Machine Buzzers ready (a.k.a. clap your hands) A player from Ligers chooses a category and question dollar.

In “Ready Player One” by Ernest Cline

Using VMware Workstation Player for Windows - VMware ... · Using VMware Workstation Player for Windows Workstation 12 Player VMware Workstation Player 12.0 VMware Workstation Player

PowerPoint-Präsentation · will resume match if player is ready by the 8th count. If the same player starts to sway unsteadily few seconds later, call Kalyeo a Kyeshi for medical

Nels Cline’s Musical Life in Five Riffs€¦ · Nels Cline’s Musical Life in Five Riffs NELS CLINE follows two distinct tracks in his guitar playing, alternating the avant-jazz

Version 1.30 Installation guide Multimedia Adapter Player MP410U DVD Player MP412U DVD Player AIV DVD Player Ampire DVX 50/ 100 DVD Player Bullit CDVD12 DVD Player JD2605 DVD Player

DSS Player for Mac - Olympus Corporation · DSS Player for Mac INSTALLATION GUIDE 6 Getting Ready Installing DSS Player for Mac 1 Insert DSS Player for Mac into the CD-ROM drive.

Always . . . Patsy Cline - Squarespace · PDF fileAlways . . . Patsy Cline is based on the true story of Patsy Cline’s friendship with Houston housewife Louise Seger. ... “Sweet

Teach Yourself Piano Overnight! - Piano Player Worldpianoplayerworld.com/TeachYourselfPianoOvernight.pdf · need to be on your toes and be ready to adapt to changes along the ...

HDW Player - Vast Player

Ready Player One - Ernest Cline - Libris.ro

Unit 9 When was he born? Famous people singer runner actor … player basketball player volleyball player tennis player ping-pong player football player.