Chapter Fifty-five


The following days blurred together as Hadji and Barbara worked day and night, searching for the key to the problem. Theories were suggested, modeled, tested, and discarded one after the other. Over Race's strident protests, Estella joined the research team after the second day, and even Jonny worked in the lab, using all of the discipline he had learned in six months of working full time to remain focused on the task at hand. But even the knowledge of how the chip operated didn't seem to be enough to give them the answer.

"I don't know what to do, Jess," Jonny said in quiet desperation six days later. "Dr. Mason has tried everything she can think of, but nothing has worked. Hadji's gotten so discouraged that he's all but given up." He drew a hard breath. "And last night, Race brought up the subject of Dad's living will again."

Jessie sighed softly as she stared at the patch of sunlight on the mosaic tile floor of her room in the palace. What do I say to him, she asked herself. How can I make him feel less helpless? In her heart she knew that her father wouldn't have brought up the subject of Dr. Quest's will again if he wasn't convinced there was nothing left that could be done. And yet she also knew that Jonny simply couldn't let go of the idea that there was a solution - they just hadn't found it yet.

"Dr. Mason has no idea what's going on?"

"No. She says it's as though his mind's been turned off. We did find something a little strange yesterday, but neither Dr. Mason nor Hadji know what to make of it."

"What was it?"

Jonny shrugged in the darkness even though she couldn't see the gesture. "Dr. Mason wanted to know if IRIS could show her Dad's normal brain activity."

"She learns quick," Jessie observed. "She's seen QuestWorld in action how many times?"

"Once."

"So were you able to do it?"

"In a way." He was quiet for a long time.

Finally, Jessie prompted softly, "Jonny?"

"We put Dad on the mobile life support, took him out to the lab, and logged him into QuestWorld," he finally replied. His voice sounded choked as he continued hesitantly, "His QuestWorld personality just stood there, totally unresponsive. When I-I asked IRIS to d-d-display his brain activity -" he voice cracked and Jessie could hear the tears he fought to suppress as he said, "T-T-The simulation was like a d-d-drawing, Jess. There was nothing . . . not even a flicker. I couldn't . . ." His voice broke again and this time he couldn't continue.

Jessie's eyes closed against the tears that rose up at the sound of his pain. If only I could be there, she though desperately. Maybe I couldn't do anything to help Dr. Quest, but at least I could be there to comfort Jonny. For an instant, she considered taking Kefira up on her offer to return to Maine. But then she remembered the dark circles around Kefira's eyes and the strained and exhausted look Jessie had seen on her face this morning and she shook her head. No, Kefira needed her, so she was committed to this for as long as Hadji had to be away. She had no choice.

"You said 'strange'," she prompted gently. "While the visible evidence of his lack of brain activity must have been hard, it can't have been totally unexpected. So what was strange?"

It took a minute before he could answer. "It was Dr. Mason who noticed it . . . a dull glow around the simulation of Dad's brain. It was almost as if someone was backlighting it. As I said . . . strange. No one has any idea what it is. I figure it's probably being caused by the way IRIS is reading his brain activity."

Jessie frowned, considering what Jonny had told her. "I don't know. That doesn't sound like something IRIS would do. You know that her simulations are derived by reading the electrical impulses of our brain activity. It's the reason why Dr. Quest seemed so lifeless. She wouldn't be generating that unless there was some sort of activity."

"Could it be caused by the life support equipment?"

"I wouldn't think so. Yes, the heart monitor generates an electrical pulse to keep his heart going, but unless the signal was transmitted by his brain, IRIS wouldn't pick it up. That's one of the failsafes in her QuestWorld translator program. If she picked up and tried to translate every electrical impulse in the body, she'd overload."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm not sure." She was silent for a long time. "You know," she said slowly, "I wonder if it might be residual."

"What do you mean?"

"IRIS uses the electrical impulses generated by our brains and translates them into actions in QuestWorld, right?"

"Yeah. She reads them through sensors in the chairs and via the headsets. So?"

"So if those are the impulses she uses to generate the image, and Dr. Quest has no brain activity, then how is it you were able to log him in to start with?"

"The sensors in the chair."

"IRIS doesn't rescan the body structure every time you log on. That's the reason you have to specify the users when you logon to the system. She only does a full body scan when you logon for the first time or when the system's been rebooted."

"That's right," Jonny said thoughtfully. "I'd forgotten that. Which means that the persona that appeared in QuestWorld wasn't Dad at all . . . just IRIS' stored image of him." Suddenly, he sounded even more devastated than he had moments before. "That means he really is gone."

"Hang on! Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe this won't get us anywhere, but let's follow this train of thought through and see where it leads us. IRIS loaded the standard persona into QuestWorld and then couldn't get a reading on activity, so his QuestWorld self remained immobile, right?"

"Yeah."

"So does that say that the glow was part of the saved persona too?"

"It would almost have to be, wouldn't it?"

"I think so. But I don't know that that means," she admitted.

"Well, let's see if we can find out. IRIS, do you have a saved simulation that includes my father?"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

"How old is it?"

"THERE ARE TWELVE SIMULATIONS STORED IN CURRENT MEMORY THAT INCLUDE DR. QUEST. THEY RANGE IN AGE FROM SIX MONTHS AND EIGHT DAYS TO THREE YEARS, TWO MONTHS, AND SEVENTEEN DAYS."

"All right, load the most recent one. Then display the brain activity of Dad at the time of the simulation."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING." The computer monitor set into the surface of the desk flashed to life and a moment later the simulation appeared. It was one Jonny didn't recognize. It ran for a few seconds before it disappeared and was replaced by the image of a brain. The characteristic energy pattern rippled up and down the spinal cord and through the brain tissue. Jonny started at the screen wordlessly, his sense of helplessness growing at his inability to find a way to trigger that activity in his father today.

"What do you see, Jonny? Is the glow there?"

"No," he said heavily. "Everything looks just fi - OH MY GOD!!!"

"What? What is it?"

"But it can't be!"

"Jonny, what's wrong???"

"IRIS, load the next oldest simulation and repeat the process," Jonny demanded urgently.

"JONNY!"

"Hang on. Give me a minute . . . speed it up, IRIS. I want to see - . . . Son of a - . . . The next one, IRIS . . . run all twelve of them in order . . ."

Jessie sat in agonized impatience, waiting for the twelve simulations to run. Please let this be a break of some kind, she prayed silently.

"THAT IS THE LAST STORED SIMULATION INCLUDING DR. BENTON QUEST IN ACTIVE STORAGE. DO YOU WISH ME TO SEARCH ONLINE ARCHIVE RECORDS?"

"No," Jonny replied dully. "Shut it down, IRIS. I don't want to see any more."

The silence stretched until Jessie couldn't stand it any more. "What did you see, Jon? Tell me!"

"I - I don't . . . how could . . ."

"Take a deep breath and just tell me, angel."

"It was Smallwood's signal . . . it's still there and active. The more recent the simulation, the more frequent it is."

"But . . . but how can that be?" Jessie demanded, bewildered. "The chip was destroyed."

"I don't know, but it's true all the same."

Sudden fear gripped Jessie and she snapped, "IRIS, locate a simulation that includes Jon Quest and run the same analysis. Is there any sign of the signal in his brain activity?"

"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING . . . ANALYSIS COMPLETE. SIMULATION OF JONATHAN QUEST SHOWS NO SIGN OF THE FOREIGN SIGNAL."

Jessie sagged, almost sick, as the rigid tension that had gripped her suddenly eased. "Thank you, God," she whispered softly.

"There's no point, is there?" Jonny asked, sounding numb and defeated. "Somehow, just removing the chip wasn't enough to eliminate the signal and it has killed him."

"NO!!!" Jessie responded sharply, trying to get him to focus again. "Don't you quit now, Jonathan Quest. This discovery is important . . . it's the first honest lead you've had. Don't give up just because the answer isn't coming easily."

"But what good does this do us?" he asked despairingly. "All it says is that however it happened, the signal was never eliminated and continued to do damage from the beginning. There's no way we can go back that far and fix this."

"The worst thing you can do right now is jump to conclusions. Just hang in there. You don't know what this means. Show the simulations to Hadji and Dr. Mason and see where the research leads."

Finally, he sighed. "Yeah. You're right. I'll tell Hadji and Dr. Mason in the morning and see what they say."

Jessie paused for a moment, then said gently, "You know, angel, there's always one final option . . ."

"No, there isn't," Jonny said bitterly. "I know exactly what you're going to say, but that door's already been slammed shut in our faces."

"But why? We've used it successfully in the past," she argued. "We could do it again."

"I know we could. But it seems my dad knows me too well. According to Race, in one of his last really lucid moments, he made Race promise that he wouldn't allow any of us to use the Rachel program to go back in time to try to change this. He said that there would be too many significant changes to history that would result, and we weren't to tamper with the past to try to save his life."

"Damn! But surely . . ."

"I've argued with Race until I'm hoarse, but he's totally immoveable on this point. He won't let us try it."

"Then we do it the hard way," Jessie told him determinedly. "Don't give up, angel. We aren't beaten yet."

Jessie waited, listening closely. Finally, Jonny sighed deeply and blew his nose. "I know. We can't quit now. I'm sorry."

"S'okay. You're entitled to get disheartened. Have you been eating and sleeping?"

Jonny snorted. "Its not like Hadji and I have a choice. Estella has made it her personal campaign to make sure we get some sleep every night. In fact, I'm surprised she isn't beating down the study door right now, trying to pack me off to bed. And Mrs. Evans is just as bad when it comes to eating. She's constantly shoving food at us. Says that moving away from home has been bad for us and we've gotten too skinny."

"Good. It makes me feel better to know that someone's looking out for you. And on that note, I'm going to send you off to bed. You're tired, angel. I can hear it in your voice. Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"But that cannot be possible," Hadji protested at the breakfast table the next morning. "If the chip was destroyed . . ."

"Is it possible that there's a physical remnant of it someplace in his system?" Barbara questioned.

"No," Jonny responded with surety. "It was fully intact when I removed it."

"There's no chance you're being subjected to the same thing, is there?' Estella demanded, grabbing at Jonny's shoulder as she passed behind him. He turned in his chair and put an arm around her waist, hugging her reassuringly.

"You and Jessie think so much alike. That was the first question she asked IRIS last night when we discovered this. The answer is 'no'. I'm showing no evidence of it."

"Thank God," Estella said thankfully, returning his hug. "We couldn't stand to lose both of you."

Barbara sank slowly into her chair, staring at the dishes on the dining room table blindly and with intense concentration. Jonny watched her silently for a long time, recognizing the expression on her face. Something was coming together for her. He raised his hand for quiet and allowed her the time to sort through the ideas in her mind. Finally, he reached across the table and caught her hand, asking softly, "What are you thinking, Dr. Mason?" She jumped slightly and blinked at him.

"There's a therapy I've heard of," she said slowly. "One that's based on a theory that may explain what we're seeing here. I don't know it if will offer any solutions, but it may go to causation, which is progress."

"So what is it?" Race demanded. "Tell us."

"Well, the idea is that repeated stimuli, like stressful situations or strong emotions can cause the formation of fixed electrical pathways in the brain. Once established, these pathways can be tripped by stimuli other than those that originally created them. The theory is that once the pathways are firmly established, any action that triggers the pathway to become active causes a cascade reaction in the brain, and results in a conditioned response."

"I do not understand," Hadji said.

"The idea was first offered by a group of psychologists who specialize in treating post-traumatic shock syndrome in Vietnam War veterans. They claimed that in cases where seemingly stable vets suddenly suffered breakdowns and began believing they were back in the jungles of Vietnam were examples of this phenomenon. Initially, they were treated as quacks, but as more and more cases of it were documented, they began to gain some credibility."

"I've heard of this," Race commented, leaning forward with interest. "It's not just war veterans that suffer from this sort of thing. I've seen it first hand in agents who've worked deep undercover for too long."

Barbara nodded. "Almost anyone who is subjected to high stress that follows a consistent pattern could develop it. Some years after I first read about the work with the veterans, I saw another article in one of my medical journals about it. This time it was from a group of clinical psychologists who specialized in working with cases of severe depression in teenagers. They claimed that their clinical observation showed that young people who suffered from severe clinical depression all showed the very same distinct and consistent pattern of symptoms and behaviors. The behavior patterns differed from individual to individual, but the pattern of their appearance for each particular subject was remarkably consistent and cyclic. They also noted that certain stimuli . . . whether the subject was in a particularly bad state of depression or not . . . could not only trigger the onset of a depressive cycle, but could do it consistently. These researchers believed that many of their subjects had been suffering from depression for some time and that during the early years before anyone diagnosed the condition, a specific set of neural pathways developed. By the time their condition was diagnosed, it was possible to set off a depressive cycle simply by triggering the neural pathway. Think of it in terms of rain . . . water running over a soft, flat surface. Eventually it will erode a channel for itself so that when it rains again, the water will inevitably run the same course over and over until a river develops. The concept is very similar."

"And once the water starts down the channel, it doesn't stop until it reaches the end," Estella said thoughtfully.

"Exactly."

"And you believe something like that happened to Father?" Hadji asked.

"I think it's possible," Barbara replied cautiously. "At least it makes some sense. We already know that the electrical impulses created by Smallwood's chip and Darcy's modifications triggered certain emotional responses in people who wore them. I think that if they had made the signal too strong, all it would have done is overwhelm the neural synapses in the brain and the subject would have been unable to function at all . . . 'fried the circuits' if you will. But back it off just enough and it would course through the normal neural pathways much as high water does in a river channel. And because both Darcy and Smallwood were going for the same basic emotions, the pathway the signal took would consistently be the same."

"But the emotions they were trying to trigger were quite different," Hadji protested.

"No, they were exact opposites," Jonny corrected. "Placid, friendly, and docile on the one hand and vicious, violent, and angry on the other. They were just opposing ends of the exact same emotions."

Barbara nodded. "And that just reinforces my point. The neural pathway would have been exactly the same."

"I see what you're getting at," Jonny said. "You think that by the time I got the chip off of Dad, the neural pathway had already been created. And that something in his normal environment began triggering a cascade reaction in his brain, causing the various behaviors and physical symptoms we all observed. Okay, I'll buy that up to a point. But why did it take so long to develop?"

"Who knows? It could be any number of reasons. One of the things the researchers who advanced this theory are trying to do with their patients is to find a way to circumvent or derail the cascade reaction. They've had some success with teaching their subjects to recognize the very early signals that warn of an eminent onset and implement behaviors that will shift the electrical impulses in the brain away from the cascade trigger. By preventing the activation of the neural pathway, the depressive cycle never gets started. Maybe Benton had those avoidance behaviors already in place, but over the course of the five years since the incident, changes have occurred that caused his ability to implement those behaviors to break down."

"Like what?" Estella asked, when Barbara paused.

Barbara looked at the four expectant faces around her and then warned, "I want you all to understand that this is sheer speculation, okay? I could be way off-base."

"Please speculate!" Jonny commanded impatiently. "This makes more sense than anything we've considered up to now. Furthermore, Dad always used to say that all great discoveries started with nothing more than wishful thinking and speculation."

"All right. This is what I think may have happened. I think it all started to break down as a result of stress . . . or to be more precise, a particular kind of stress. The two of you," she said, pointing to Jonny and Hadji, "are the single most important things in Benton's life. And both of you have always excelled at getting into trouble." The two young men both looked like they wanted to dispute that observation, but chose not to say anything. "Clear back in May, when the business between Jonny and Benton exploded, all of you commented to me that Benton had seemed to be under an unusual amount of stress during the preceding months. I also know from a conversation with Race that Benton had always coped well with stress in the past, and that his primary outlet for it was working. Everyone with me so far?" They all nodded as Race rose to retrieve the coffee pot and refill cups.

"That got me thinking about stress factors and their timing. Normally, I have no idea what goes on with the lot of you when you're away from home, but I do know that the business with Smallwood occurred in the fall when Jonny was 13, right?"

"Yes," Race agreed immediately. "In early October."

"Good. Then, between October of that year and January two years later, nothing occurred that put any of you at real risk, right?"

Jonny considered that briefly and then grimaced, thinking of some of the various scrapes they had gotten into during the intervening years. "Well, there was some stuff . . ." he said hesitantly.

"Was any of it a situation where Benton was forced to wait helplessly on the sidelines while you were in danger of dying? Or was he forced to watch any of you suffer and be unable to do anything about it?"

"I don't think so," Jonny replied, still sounding unsure.

"No," Hadji added with surety. "During that time, when anything went wrong, Father was right in the middle of it with us."

"So his conduit was action," Barbara said with a nod. "His coping mechanisms were still firmly in place. But during that time, the family that had given him anchorage was changing. Hadji inherited a Sultancy. Jonny and Jessie discovered the opposite sex and developed into a couple. And through it all, Benton remained more or less the same . . . his outlets were still work and his family."

"A family that appeared to be drifting away from him," Race said grimly. "And that takes us right up to the January when Jonny was 15, and we run slam into Cairo again. You know, I hope to God that Hamilton and that good-for-nothing daughter of his are both cast into the deepest, darkest pits of Hell someday."

Again Barbara nodded. "This time, when things went wrong, Benton was helpless to do anything other than just sit on the sidelines and watch. And during the next two and a half years, there were a whole series of incidents that left him in the same position, including protracted periods when he thought he'd lost one or more of you permanently. I think that somewhere during that period, his own natural defense mechanisms began to fail and the neural pathways created by Smallwood's tampering were reactivated. For a time, he was probably able to fight off the effects, but I'm betting the events of last Christmas were the final straw. He'd already been suffering from the first stages of 'empty nest syndrome'. Contrary to popular belief, it is not a phenomenon restricted to women. He and I had discussed it at Race and Estella's wedding reception -"

"What is 'empty nest syndrome'," Hadji demanded. "I have never heard of this."

"I didn't know he was having trouble with the idea of Hadji and I leaving," Jonny commented thoughtfully. "Why didn't he say something?"

Barbara snorted. "Jonny, the last thing any teenager wants to hear is that their parents don't want them to leave home. Let's face it, when Benton finally began showing open signs of it, you responded just like most every other 16-, 17- or 18-year-old I've ever known. This is one of those things that's practically universal. A child approaches the age when they're ready to give life a try on their own, and their parents' natural instinct to protect and shield them kicks in, making them reluctant to let go." She shrugged. "It's human nature."

"But Race never did that with Jess!" Jonny protested.

"The hell I didn't!" Race interjected. "I was just as bad as Benton. I've just had more practice at keeping my feelings hidden. But let me tell you something, kiddo. The two of you can be damned grateful that I wasn't the one who caught you together in bed. Believe me, the outcome of that incident would have been a whole lot different."

Jonny shifted uneasily under Race's glare. "I know," he said, sounding remarkably humble.

"The only reason my feelings never came to the surface was because about the time it really began to hit me, Estella came back into my life and she helped diffuse the situation."

"And I'd already gone through it so I was able to help Race cope," Estella added. When Race looked at her in surprise, she just shrugged. "For all intents and purposes, Jessie 'left the nest' for me when she was 13 and started spending time with you again. I went from having her with me full time, to only seeing her about half the year. By the time she left home last year, I had long since reconciled with the situation."

"At any rate," Barbara continued, "Benton was struggling with that. Then, something happened that forced him to finally stop holding on so tightly to Rachel's memory. That had to have been hard for him, too."

"He told me once that sometimes he could almost hear her talking to him," Jonny said quietly.

"Yeah," Race agreed. "I can remember times when he was struggling with a particularly hard decision - usually something to do with the kids - and I'd walk by the study to hear him talking to himself. It was always a one-sided discussion, as if he was arguing with someone. I suspected it was Rachel. They knew each other so well, that I could see him continuing to use her point of view as a sounding board."

"And he gave that up at Christmas, as well as almost losing Hadji . . ."

" . . . and being faced with blowing up the Compound, along with his entire family . . ." Estella added.

" . . . all the people that died in the fighting by systems he created . . ." Hadji contributed.

" . . . the attack on Jessie and Kefira . . ." Race said.

" . . . the partial destruction of our home . . ."

" . . . and all of this at a time when he was exhausted and his coping mechanisms were crumbling. The neural pathways became activated and he began to act strangely, doing and saying things that were totally unlike him. That caused strain within the family which just fed into the cycle, and things went from bad to worse. He discovered the truth about Jonny and Jessie and rather than dealing with it the way he normally would have, the programming took over and he went in the opposite direction, doing something underhanded instead."

"And rather than asking why this was happening, when I found out what he'd done, I exploded," Jonny said bitterly. "And the angrier I got and the more I withdrew, the more pressure I put on him and the worse it got. So when it comes right down to it, it's all my fault. I caused the entire mess."

Barbara leaned forward sharply and grabbed his arm, shaking it. "You did not cause this, Jonny. It was inevitable. It may have taken a little longer to show up if the events since Cairo hadn't occurred, but the fact is that everyone in Wychford died. That Benton's coping mechanisms were better than most only meant that the onset was delayed, not that he would have avoided it altogether."

"Laying blame is pointless anyway," Estella said firmly. "The question is, now that we have an idea of how it happened, how are we going to use the knowledge to fix the problem?"

"I don't know," Barbara replied, "but this is the first real break we've had and I'm not about to waste it. We've been searching for the reason this happened. Now I think we know. And if we're right, this has a couple of really positive implications."

"I don't see any," Jonny said sourly, still sounding angry and bitter.

"Well, for one thing, it confirms to me that there is no tissue damage. If normal neural pathways were used, it's unlikely that it did any physical harm. If it had, there would be evidence of it, and there isn't. Even his natural brain chemistry is still correct."

"You have said several times that it almost appears as if his brain has been turned off," Hadji mused. "Is it possible that the increasing use of a single neural pathway could have . . ." he paused, searching for a way to explain himself. Finally, he gestured helplessly. "I do not know how to say it. The best analogy I can think of is that it 'blew a circuit breaker' in his mind."

"Yes, I think it's entirely possible."

"But what difference does it make?" Jonny demanded. "If you're right, even if we can find a way to bring him around, it will just start happening all over again."

"Not necessarily," Barbara disagreed. "I told you that I first read about this from a group who were treating Vietnam vets. These doctors claimed to have been able to teach some of their patients to recognize and derail the cycle. We'd definitely need to get a professional in here to help us, but I think it will be possible to teach Benton to recognize the signs and implement coping behaviors that will prevent the cascade reaction from getting started. At least it's more than we've had before. Come on, Hadji, we need to shift the focus of what we've been doing. Let's see if we can find some way to trigger Benton's mind back into actively functioning again."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"But Jon, I don't understand. Don't you want them to find a way to bring your dad back?"

"Of course I do! But I keep thinking . . . back to what, Jess? Back to a life of struggling not to do anything that will put him under stress? To having to watch everything he says or does for signs that his mind is on the brink of betraying him again? Of living with the knowledge that if he does step over that edge, his words and actions will alienate the people he cares about the most? And you know as well as I do that sooner or later, we'll be right back here again, and will have to live through all of this a second time. Where does it stop?" Jessie was silent, unable to find any words of comfort in the face of his misery. "And at the risk of sounding selfish, I really don't know if I could stand going through this again."

"So what do you want to do?"

Jonny leaned back in the leather chair and stared at the silvery patch of moonlight that shown through the huge windows that formed one wall of his father's bedroom. On the other side of the room, the rainbow of lights and numbers that marked what remained of his father's life seemed to mock him. What did he want to do? He sighed wearily.

"I don't know. For a while, Hadji and Dr. Mason were re-energized by this. Both of them seemed convinced they had found the answer. But they're no further along now than they were a week ago, and they're becoming discouraged again. I can see it in their eyes. And everyone is so tired. I'm wondering how long we're going to be able to keep this up. And yet . . ." He sighed again. "I don't know . . . I guess I feel like we're missing something . . . something important. I just can't put my finger on it."

"Have you talked to Hadji about your feelings?"

"I've tried, but he doesn't want to hear it. He's so desperate, Jess. He doesn't even care what kind of state Dad is in, as long as he survives. I guess I can't blame him. He's lost so much . . ."

"No more than you have," she pointed out.

"It's not the same," he argued. "I mean, look at it. He lost his mother -"

"So did you. And your mother died when you were a lot younger and less able to deal with it."

"Then what about Bangalore and the Sultancy? I never had to deal with that."

"A country and a job he didn't want in the first place, and absolutely hated once he was stuck with it. If anything, getting rid of those responsibilities will be a relief to both he and Kefira."

"Okay, I'll grant you that. But all of the people that died there -"

"We all had a hand in that."

The silence that followed that comment was bleak and it was a long time before Jonny managed, "I wish my dad was here. I really need him right now."

Jessie made a small, comforting sound. "Maybe that's the point you're trying to make, angel. I know that Hadji needs him, too. It's probably the reason he's clinging so tenaciously to this. You both need your father . . . not some echo of what he used to be. That's what Hadji doesn't see."

"Yeah, or maybe I'm wrong and he's right. Maybe it is better to have some part of him than lose him completely." He laid his head back and closed his eyes, exhausted. "God, I just don't know anymore."

"Are you all right?" Jessie demanded, as something in his voice caused her to tense. "What else is wrong?"

His answer was slow in coming. "I'm okay, I guess."

"No, there's something else. What is it?"

"I'm just tired, that's all. I'm not sleeping very well right now."

"Nightmares?" she asked knowingly, thinking of her own night terrors.

"You too?"

"Yes. And Kefira."

"Hadji too. His were bad enough last night that he woke Race."

"All the way downstairs?" Jessie said incredulously, thinking of how well soundproofed the mansion was.

"No. Race and Estella have moved upstairs. They've taken over the guest room."

"So they could be closer to your dad?"

"Partially. Also so Estella wouldn't be stuck off by herself when she was restricted to bed."

"Makes sense. How is Mom?"

"Just fine as far as I can tell. You probably should ask Race."

"I have, and that's what he says, too. I'm just not sure if he's saying that because it's true, or so I won't worry."

"No, I think she's okay. She's been working out in the lab with Hadji and Dr. Mason most of the time."

Jessie chuckled half-heartedly. "That's probably what's causing the tension I'm hearing in his voice when I ask about her."

A hint of a smile flickered across Jonny's face. "Probably. We should know for certain soon. She has a routine follow-up appointment with her doctor late tomorrow morning. If there's anything at all wrong, Race will have her flat in bed so fast it will make her head spin."

"You're right about that. How's Emily?"

"She's doing good. Race and Estella are hoping the doctors will be able to tell them tomorrow when they can bring her home."

"Maybe it will be soon."

"We can hope."

Silence fell between them and for a long time the only sounds either of them heard were the steady beeping of the monitors, the whoosh of the ventilator, and the empty hum of the open phone line.

"I wish you were here," Jonny said suddenly. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"I want -" He stopped abruptly, startled by the realization that suddenly struck him.

"You want what?"

"I want to go home." With infinite care, as if testing the flavor of the words, he said slowly, "I don't belong here anymore."

"That's not true, Jonny," Jessie said when she finally managed to catch her breath. "You will always belong where your family is."

"I know that. That's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

He struggled for a minute, trying to put what he was feeling into words. "It feels good to be here . . . some part of me recognizes that it's a part of me and always will be. But it's not home . . . not anymore. Home is that apartment in Boston with my job and our friends and neighbors. It's the life you and I have started to build together." He thought about it for a minute longer. "It's not that I don't want to be here . . . I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now . . . but it's just not . . . home. Does that make any kind of sense?"

"Yeah," she responded, her throat tightening. "It makes total sense, angel. God, I want to come home!"

Jonny sighed again. "Why does everything always have to be so hard?"

For a time they were quiet again, neither one ready to relinquish what small comfort the phone connection provided.

"What are you dreaming about?" Jonny finally asked. He could almost feel her shrug.

"You don't want to know."

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't. Might make you feel better to talk about it."

"I doubt it."

"Come on. Try."

"There was this dungeon," she finally said reluctantly. "At the castle. It reminded me of the newsreel footage you used to see about the Holocaust. You know, you think you know the depths that people can sink to, and you think you can deal with it. But nothing can prepare you for seeing something like that. Those poor people . . ."

"At least it won't happen again."

"We hope . . ."

"Don't be cynical. We fought that war to see that it wouldn't."

Instead of replying to that comment, she asked, "What about you? Dreaming about what happened at the palace?"

Jonny snorted. "I wish. No, for some reason my warped brain has me dreaming about Jeremiah Surd."

"Surd? For God's sake, why?"

"I have no idea. You and I spent half the night last night trapped in MegaQuest again. And I kept hearing Surd saying, 'You're going to die here.' Over and over. I just couldn't seem to turn it off."

"You know, we need to get a life, Quest."

"We have one. We just need to get back to it one day."

Light suddenly spilled into the darkened room as the bedroom door opened.

"Jon? Are you in here?"

"Right here, Estella."

"You need to be in bed. It's after midnight."

"See, I told you," he said to Jessie. "Her own personal campaign. I've been talking to Jess. You want to say 'hi'?"

Estella took the phone from him. "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mom. How are you?"

"The same as I was day before yesterday when you asked - just fine," she replied with a laugh. "I swear, you're just as bad as your father."

"He's concerned about you."

"He's a worrywart. Believe me, I feel great. Look, I was planning on calling you tomorrow after my doctor's appointment, so I'm not going to linger now. I'm also going to take Jon away from you. He may think that brain of his is a computer that doesn't need rest, but he's wrong. He's been going non-stop since about five this morning and I intend to see he gets some sleep."

"Good. Don't let him talk you out of it. Tell him I love him and that I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"I will. You take care and say 'hello' to Kefira for me."

"I will. Love you, Mom. And love to Dad, too."

"And you. Good night." Hitting the disconnect button before Jonny could protest, she said, "She sends her love and will talk to you tomorrow. Now . . . to bed with you."

Jonny shook his head and then rose with a weary grin. "Yes, mother."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


"I think this has gone on long enough," Race said quietly the next evening. They had all gathered in the dining room for dinner at Race's insistence, and while nothing was said during the meal, all of them sensed that something was coming. In the tense silence that followed his statement, Race looked solemnly at each of them. Finally, when no one responded, he continued. "You aren't getting anywhere and you all know it. I think maybe the time has come to admit that you never will."

"Research takes time, Race," Hadji protested. "You have worked with Father long enough to know that. We must keep trying." Beside him, Maia whimpered softly and edged closer, causing the young man to put his arm around her comfortingly. "We could be one discovery away from the answer."

"Or there may not be a solution," Race responded evenly. "The point is, the time comes when you have to admit that there's simply nothing else you can do."

"I want to keep trying," Hadji said emphatically.

"Barbara, what do you think?"

She stared at her plate for a long time before responding. "I want to keep trying, too," she finally said, but when she raised her head to look around the table, they were all struck by the misery there. "But I don't know what to do any more. We've tried everything I can think of, even some things I would never have considered under any other circumstances. Nothing has worked."

Race nodded and then reached down to pull Vassey into his lap. The heightened sense of tension in the room obviously frightened the child and caused him to tremble visibly. Race wrapped his arms around the boy, crooning to him softly, and then continued around the table. "Stel?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to lose Benton, not only for our own personal, selfish reasons, but because a talent like his comes along so rarely and the world needs what he still has to offer. But the longer we maintain him the way we're doing now, the longer we violate his own wishes. He was very emphatic about his desires should something like this happen. How long can we continue to justify it? I think if we've reached the point where all we're doing is grasping in the dark with no set direction and no hope . . . well, then we're out of options."

Finally, Race turned to Jonny. He sat, silent and withdrawn, his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped. Race was struck with a sudden strong sense of déjà vu as he realized that he was familiar with that posture. Jonny had looked just like this as he sat in the hospital in Cairo waiting to see if Jessie would live or die. He turned and his eyes locked with Estella's. In their emerald depths he saw the same recognition, compounded with worry. Finally, Race turned back again and asked gently, "Jonny?"

The silence stretched painfully as they all waited for him to respond. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked directly at his brother. "I love my father so much," he said in a choked voice. "I can't imagine life without him."

"Then help me -" Hadji began urgently, but Jonny cut him off.

"But if we can find a way to bring him back, will he thank us for it, Hadji? If he comes back a shadow of what he used to be . . . having to watch everything he says or does . . . is it right of us to ask that of him just because we can't stand the idea of life without him?"

"So what would you do?" Hadji demanded, pain and frustration flashing into anger. "Just give up and let him die? He has never given up on any of us!"

"You think I don't know that?" Jonny came back at him in the same tone. "Do you have any idea what it makes me feel like to have to sit here and suggest that it's time we let him go? I've spent the last two weeks wracking my brain trying to think of something . . . anything . . . that might reverse this. I've prayed until I'm hoarse that you and Dr. Mason and Jess . . . yes, Jessie . . . she's been working at this as hard as any of us, even though she can't be here! I've prayed that you'd find something. But Race is right! We're no closer than we were before we even knew he was sick." Jonny threw himself to his feet, his hands clenched into fists and his face white. "I've tried. He's my father and there should be something I can do to help him, but I CAN'T FIND IT!" He spun then, and ran out of the room, the violent slamming of the front door seeming to add a poignant exclamation point to the evidence of his grief.

Hadji leaned forward, rested his head in his hands, and after a moment he said in a low, bitter voice, "Very well. Since the rest of you all believe we are wrong to keep trying, I will bow to the collected wisdom." Then he stood abruptly. "But, I will have no part in this. I will pack my things, I will take Maia and Srinivasan, and we will return to Bangalore. Once I am gone, you may do as you wish . . . but not before." He looked down at Maia and held out his hand to her, but she shied away, frightened by his obvious anger. After a moment, he shrugged and walked out of the room in silence.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Jonny walked along the shore for a long time, watching the ocean. Fall had come upon Maine abruptly while they were in Bangalore, and the wind blowing across the water from the northeast held the first smell of winter. It tossed his hair and cut through his lightweight T-shirt, making him shiver convulsively. But the reaction was only partially caused by the chill. In siding with Race and the other adults against his brother, Jonny knew he had signed his father's death warrant. He also knew that it was unlikely Hadji would ever forgive him for it. So in one single action, he would lose two of the most important people in his life.

He stopped and stared out over the restless waves, wrapping his arms around his body as that indefinable sense of unease filled him again. There was something eating at him . . . something he had forgotten . . . or maybe overlooked. Whatever it was, the feeling was growing stronger with each passing minute and it was driving him crazy.

A sudden blast of cold air struck him forcibly, catching the foaming surf and flinging water across the ragged rocks in the shallows and into his face. He flinched back, consciously aware of his surroundings for the first time in hours. While he had wandered the grounds struggling to come to grips with the decision they were being forced to make, darkness had fallen and his unwary footsteps had led him to the cove where Baxter and Leeds had their final confrontation. Somehow, the shadows seemed ominous, and the scent of death lingered here as if the place was haunted. The fitful moonlight came and went as clouds scuttled across the sky, and in the distance he could just make out the first signs of a storm building over the ocean. He shivered again, turning hastily toward the narrow creek and ravine that led back up to the top of the bluff. He'd seen enough death recently to last him a lifetime and without another thought, he fled back toward the mansion as though pursued.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Hadji flung another shirt into the suitcase that lay open on the bed with uncharacteristic violence. The fury and despair that filled him were potent and he fought desperately to keep them in check enough that he wouldn't physically lash out at something. They were going to kill the only father he'd ever known. That's what it came right down to. They could keep him alive, but they wouldn't do it. He slammed the dresser drawer shut and yanked open another one. Life is sacred, couldn't they understand that?

Keep him alive for what?

Jonny's question rang in his mind again, causing Hadji to check. A tiny voice inside urged him to think about that question seriously. Jonny had come to him more than a week ago, wanting to talk . . . asking questions Hadji didn't want to hear. Are we sure we're doing the right thing? Is this what Dad would want? What happens if we manage to bring him back to consciousness only to find he's brain damaged or mentally handicapped in some way? Do we have the right to keep him alive indefinitely in this state against his direct wishes? For the first time in his life, Hadji had refused to be reasonable or open-minded, not wanting to consider where those questions might lead him. But refusing to consider them hadn't stopped anything. And now they had all given up.

He could understand some of their point of view. Race, in particular, was in a difficult position because he was the one directly charged with seeing that Benton's wishes were followed. Not being a researcher himself, he couldn't understand the time needed to work through a problem like this. And you could hardly blame Estella for following his lead. She had stuck with the research longer than he would have expected, considering how difficult her position must have been. And Dr. Mason? Things must look more hopeless to her than to any of the rest of them. Her medical background was almost more of a detriment than a help. She came in with preconceived notions of what was possible and what wasn't. So for her to give up in the face of what looked hopeless . . . well, he grudgingly admitted that he couldn't blame her.

But Jonny? How could he just quit? The intensity the betrayal he felt bordered on the edge of hatred. He would never forgive him for this. Never. Hadji reached into the drawer haphazardly, grabbed everything he could hold and flung it viciously at the bed. Something heavy in the bundle struck the lid of the open suitcase, flipping it over and sending it, and everything inside, tumbling to the floor with a resounding thump. He leaned over, grasping the edges of the dresser in a grip so tight it turned his entire hand white. How will I ever survive this? he asked himself in despair.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Race and Estella sat side-by-side in the big family room downstairs. On the far side of the room, Maia and Vassey huddled together watching the pair with huge, fearful eyes.

"It's all coming apart," Race said despairingly.

She nestled up against his side and put her arms around him in some small attempt at comfort. "They'll get over it, Race. It won't be easy, but -"

"Will they? I'm not so sure. This may be the single thing capable of driving a permanent wedge between those two boys. I think I was wrong, Stel. I should have followed Aaron's advice when he first came to me and ended this before they came home. At least then they would have had each other. Now, even that's gone."

"No. You were right. No matter how hard it is on them, you had to allow this choice to be theirs. We just have to believe that the years of love and loyalty to each other will kick in once the initial pain has passed."

Race leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, and rested his head in his hands wearily. "God, I hope you're right."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Barbara closed the door to Benton's room quietly and crossed to the still figure. In the dim, fitful moonlight, she could just make out his profile. With shaking fingers, she reached out and touched his cheek.

"I've failed you, Benton," she whispered is a choked voice. "This never should have happened. I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked and she sobbed softly. She sank slowly onto the bed, sitting next to him as she fought to keep from breaking down completely. "There were so many things I wanted to say to you . . . so many things I wanted you to know. But somehow, the timing just never seemed right, so I kept silent. And now . . . now there's no time left."

She reached out and took his lax hand in hers, twining their fingers and drawing it against her chest. For a long time, she sat cradling it to her as the pain that filled her swelled until she could barely breathe. Finally, as if she couldn't keep silent any longer, she whispered, "I - I guess there was only one thing that I wanted to tell you. It was all that ever really mattered, but I was scared . . . scared that if I did, you wouldn't feel the same . . . that you would be embarrassed and uncomfortable . . . and that I would lose your friendship. And now I'll never know . . . I - I . . ." Again she stopped, as if once again unable to continue. Then, the tears finally came, and through her sobs, she gasped brokenly, "I love you, Benton Quest. I love you so much . . ."


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


The darkness was hot and oppressive and made Jonny feel as if he were suffocating. Fearfully, he reached up and laid a hand across his eyes, wondering if he had gone blind. Where was he? He didn't remember getting here. There was an undercurrent of sound in the blackness . . . distant and indistinct, and yet with an edge that grated on his nerves. He could almost place the sound, but just as he thought he had it, whatever memory that would have triggered recognition flitted away again.

Grimly, he groped in the dark, searching for anything that would tell him where he was. But there was nothing . . . absolutely nothing.

"Hadji? Jessie? Dad? Is anybody here?" he called into the blackness, but there was no answer. In the distance, that undercurrent of sound intensified for a second, and in that instant, Jonny placed it. Laughter . . . a cold, chilling laughter that seemed to mock him.

Cautiously, he began to advance, checking the ground under his feet carefully with each step forward. How had he gotten here? Where was everyone else? Why was he in a strange place all alone? He froze suddenly as the ground disappeared from beneath his right foot. Stepping back carefully, he sank slowly to his knees and groped along the ground until he came to the edge of a precipice. The edge was cold and rounded, like well-worn stone, and the walls felt sheer. He felt around on the ground to either side of him and finally discovered a loose stone about the size of his fist. Leaning out over the chasm, he dropped the stone and then waited, listening intently. Finally, after a count of about fifty, he heard a distant splash as somewhere far below him, the stone hit water. Backing away from the edge of the pit, he grimly began to move laterally, searching for a way around.

As he did so, he searched his mind frantically. How had he gotten here? And where was here? The first faint edges of panic touched him as he realized that he had absolutely no idea. Well, if he didn't know where he was, then what had he been doing just before he woke up here? But he found he didn't know that either. The only thing he knew for certain was that something really important was going on at home, that he was needed there urgently, and that if he didn't get there something really bad was going to happen. But what? The panic grew as he realized that he didn't know.

As if able to read his mind, the distant laughter grew louder and now there were words. He couldn't make them out, but the cadence of the sounds told him someone was speaking to him.

"What do you want?" he yelled at the unseen speaker. But the only response he got was that laughter. Suddenly, off to his right, he became aware of something new. A light had flared some distance away. It was a dull, sullen red, but it beckoned him. Deciding that anything was better than this absolute darkness, he moved toward it cautiously on his hands and knees.

As his careful progress brought him closer, the dull red glow began to provide enough light so he could see his surroundings. Rising carefully to his feet once more, he looked around. He was in a passageway of some kind. The floor was flat, made of stone, and appeared solid. The walls were about fifteen feet apart and also appeared to be made of stone, although they glistened intermittently, as though wet. They arched as they rose, curving inward to form the ceiling, however he couldn't see where they met above his head because of the dimness of the light. Something stirred in his mind. He knew this place. He'd been here before.

Ahead of him, he could see an entryway. A large, heavy wooden door stood partially ajar, allowing the red light to escape. He approached it cautiously, a sense of unexplained dread filling him. That elusive memory he couldn't quite grasp was telling him that there was danger here. And suddenly, he knew he wasn't alone in this place. There were others . . . should be others. He stopped, grabbing frantically at that wisp of memory. Jessie! Jessie should be here. Where was she?

"Jess! Jessie, where are you?" he called loudly.

His voice echoed hollowly, but the only sound he heard in reply was a deep grating screech. Turning back again, he saw the huge door closing slowly, shutting off his only source of light. He lunged forward, grabbing it by the edges and trying to jerk it open again, but it wouldn't budge. Inexorably, it continued to close. Left with no choice, Jonny lurched forward and wedged himself through the door into the room beyond, just before it slammed shut with ominous finality.

Panting heavily, he spun and stared at his surroundings. He was in a round, high-ceilinged chamber made of stone. There were four large entryways into it. In confusion, Jonny noted that none of them had doors. Narrow, arching windows lined the walls between the entryways, and just below the bottom of the windows was a narrow ledge. Stone bowls filled with fire sat on the ledge at intervals, providing the only light in the room. At the very center of the chamber was a square, raised pedestal. At its base were four more bowls that blazed with living fire, and sitting upon it was a golden challis. Memory slammed into him then, as he realized where he was. He was trapped in MegaQuest again.

"You're going to die here."

The words were cold and gleeful and seemed to come from all around him. He spun, searching for the speaker, but he was still alone.

"You're dead!" he screamed defiantly.

"Just as you're going to be. My neural cybernet will see to that." And then Jeremiah Surd appeared, hovering in the doorway on the opposite side of the chamber from where Jonny stood. "Your clones are here . . . in the game. And they will just keep coming and coming and coming. They are made by the computer and they never tire. And if you destroy one of them? Well, the computer will just regenerate it. It has that capability."

"No!" Jonny gasped. "That's not how it worked."

"Ah, but it is now. After all, I'm dead, remember. How is Bannon going to get the abort codes this time?" Surd laughed again. "You're going to die here, boy. Just as the Bannon girl already has."

"NO! That's not the way it happened!"

"Just as your father will . . . because you weren't bright enough to find a way out." Surd cackled gleefully. "And I will finally have my revenge."

"NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Jonny jerked upright, panting heavily, his scream still echoing in the darkened bedroom. Cold sweat bathed his body and he shivered convulsively. A nightmare. God, he was having a nightmare again. Sliding to the edge of the bed, he hunched over, placed his elbows on his knees, and put his head in his hands. Why couldn't he shake this? What was wrong with him? Too stretched to think straight, he told himself shakily. Just calm down. That uneasy sense of forgetting something struck him again and he shuddered in response. You're letting yourself be driven by fear and despair, he thought sternly, struggling to regain control. He straighten, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. Using a technique Hadji had taught him many years before, he focused inward, concentrating all of his attention on the mechanics and sensation of taking one deep breath after another. Slowly, calmness stole over him and one by one his muscles began to relax. Now, he thought distantly, look at the dream. Your subconscious is trying to tell you something. What is it? He'd been having the same dream for the last week and a half. It varied in minute details, but essentially it was the same night after night. What was there about it . . .

He gasped suddenly, his eyes snapping open, as the idea struck him like a blow. Could that really work? But it would leave them in the exact same situation they were in now. Another idea occurred to him. Or maybe not. Feverishly, he threw himself to his feet and crossed to the computer on the desk. Working strictly from the keyboard in an effort to keep from waking anyone else in the house, he called up file after file, searching frantically for what he was looking for, but nothing seemed to satisfy him. Abandoning that line of inquiry, he called up archive records, scanning the lists of documents and dates, searching for any sign of a file that would contain what he needed. Yes, there were possibilities there. Enough to make it worth one final, last ditch try.

Rising again, he tossed on his clothes hastily and then made for the door. In the upstairs corridor, he paused. He couldn't do this alone. He needed help. And there was only one person in this house knowledgeable enough to be able to do it. Without hesitation, he crossed the hall and flung open a door. Hadji sat motionless in a chair by the window, staring out toward the ocean.

"I've supported you and tried it your way," Jonny said to his brother shortly. "It hasn't worked. Are you willing to try an idea of mine?"

Hadji turned to stare at him. "What? You have changed your mind, now?" he asked bitterly. "You have decided that Father's life is worth a little extra effort after all?"

Jonny's temper flared. "If our father dies, it will be because of you and your holier than thou attitude, not because I wasn't willing to try!" He made a disgusted sound. "Screw you! I'll find a way to do this by myself!" It took all of his self-control not to slam the door of his brother's room. The only thing that prevented him from doing it was the knowledge that if he did, he was certain to wake Race, and Jonny wasn't at all sure what his or Dr. Mason's reaction would be to what he was planning to do.

Moving in silence, he went up the hall to his father's room and began transferring him onto the mobile life support system. He was startled to find Dr. Mason lying near the foot of his father's bed, but she was out cold and didn't stir as he disconnected the leads to the machines. As he moved to the side of the bed to try to lift Benton onto the nearby stretcher, Hadji appeared at his elbow.

"You take his shoulders," he hissed softly. "I will take his feet."

Jonny stared at him for a moment and then nodded. Together, they shifted Benton onto the stretcher and then carefully maneuvered it out into the hallway. Once there, Jonny closed the door to his father's room once more.

"Where are we taking him?" Hadji demanded in a whisper.

"The lab. Let's go."

They carried the stretcher down the stairs, through the house, and out the back door. Once they were out of the house, Hadji asked, "What are you planning?"

"You want to wake him up? Well, I think I've figured out how to do it."

"How?"

"I'm going to get Surd to help us."

"Surd! What are you talking about?"

"You'll see." Gesturing to Hadji, the two of them set the stretcher down on the ground outside the lighthouse door, and then Jonny activated the mechanism that allowed them to raise it and roll it on wheels. Maneuvering the stretcher through the door, he said, "Can you get him up to the lab and into one of the mobile QuestWorld headsets? You may have to rig sensors onto the stretcher. I don't think we should try to take him off of it this time."

"You are going to take him into QuestWorld again? We have already tried that and it didn't work."

"Look. Just trust me, okay? What do we have left to lose? Hadji, we're between a rock and a hard place. Even if I back you in refusing to shut down the life support equipment, how long can we hold out? We don't have the legal leverage to keep it up. Right now, the only reason we haven't been overruled is because Race is refusing to give the order. But we both know he has the power to do it, and sooner or later, his conscience will win out and he'll follow the instructions in Dad's living will. And even if he doesn't, Aaron Sorenson may just take things into his own hands and get a court injunction to enforce the thing. Is that what you want?"

"No."

Jonny stared at his brother. "Furthermore, you have a wife now . . . one that's stuck on the other side of the globe trying to deal with a serious mess. She needs you. The people of Bangalore need you. And I have people who depend on me, too. We can't ignore them forever. My idea is way out there, and I'm not going to lie to you. It may not work. And if it doesn't, I'm fairly certain it will kill Dad. But at least he will have died with us trying. Isn't that better than just turning off the machines and watching him slip away?"

Hadji swallowed hard, but then nodded. "Yes," he whispered hoarsely. Then, in a strong voice, he said, "Yes! We will try it your way." As Jonny turned away, Hadji reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jonny -"

"What?" he demanded, his mind only half on what his brother was saying. But at the look on his face, Jonny's attention snapped into full focus. "What's wrong?"

"I - I am -" Hadji drew a hard breath. "I am sorry, my brother. I have no excuse for my behavior -"

"You don't need one," Jonny replied and grabbed him into a tight hug. "We both love Dad and to be honest, I don't know what I'll do if this doesn't work."

Hugging him back, Hadji replied, "We will cope, just as he taught us . . . the two of us together."

"Yeah." After a minute, he stepped back and gestured toward the stretcher. "Go on, get him upstairs. I'll be with you in a minute."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to get something from the vault." Then he spun and headed for the spiral staircase that led up to the second floor.

The vault was carved into the solid bedrock beneath the lighthouse, and it's only access was from a dedicated elevator in the second floor lab. He provided the necessary security codes, descended swiftly, went through two more series of security checkpoints and finally got into the huge chamber. The silence was eerie and he was struck again by it's similarity to the Pentagon storage warehouses that Chris Carter had portrayed in The X-Files. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, he moved to his right until he located the corridor he wanted and then trotted down it's length until he reached the specified storage box he was looking for. Reaching inside, he pulled out a plastic case containing a large silver disk about the size of an old 33-1/3 rpm record. It's surface shown with multi-colored iridescence in the fluorescent lights. Shoving the box back into place, Jonny retraced his steps and returned to the lab a short time later.

Taking the disk to one of the specially-made drives in a nearby computer console, he inserted it and then sat down at a work station next to Hadji. He called up the storage device, searched briefly until he located the file he was looking for and then said, "IRIS, I need for you to copy the highlighted file onto the mainframe, load the data and hold it for further instructions."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. FILE LOADED. STANDING BY."

Rising, he grabbed the headset Hadji had left sitting on the console for him, donned it, and then settled into the chair nearest the stretcher where his father lay. "Okay, Hadj, I want you to log both Dad and I into QuestWorld." He glanced at the high windows where the first traces of dawn were just starting to show in the eastern sky. "Everyone else in the house will be stirring soon. They may show up here before we're finished, and if they do, I don't think they're going to like it much. Whatever you do, don't let them stop what I'm trying to do. Got it?"

Hadji nodded. "I will not. But grant me this much. What are we trying to do?"

Jonny chewed on his lip for a second and then said, "We're going to restore his backup. Log us in now."

Without another moment's hesitation, Hadji turned to his keyboard. "QuestWorld logon . . . subjects Jonny and Benton Quest. Going hot in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .1 . . ."

The world flared around Jonny and after the familiar few seconds of disorientation, he found himself standing beside his father in the gateway of QuestWorld. Around him, Hadji's voice echoed hollowly, "You are both logged in. Now what?"

"Now, I want you to launch MegaQuest."

"MegaQuest!? But Jonny -"

"Trust me, Hadji. Just do it!"

With a hint of misgiving, Hadji said, "Launching MegaQuest."

Around them, the scenery changed and the tumbled ruins and crumbling columns of ancient buildings appeared.

"IRIS, freeze program."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. PROGRAM PAUSED."

"Go out to my archives and search the saved versions of this game. Locate a saved version that begins on the third level as close to the challis room as possible, load and restart the program from that point."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING. PROGRAM LOADING NOW."

Again the scenery changed and this time when it reformed, they were standing in a long, stone corridor. The walls arched above him until the disappeared into the blackness without ever reaching their peak, and there were traces of water on the walls. This time, however, sconces along the walls held torches which cast dim light along its length. Jonny smiled grimly. Yep, this was the place he needed.

"IRIS, power chariot and shield." The power chariot immediately appeared however the shield did not.

"SHIELD WAS DESTROYED IN EARLIER PLAY. THE ONLY WEAPON AVAILABLE IS THE SPEAR."

Jonny sighed. "Oh yeah, that's right. Jess got rid of that pretty early on, didn't she?"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

"Oh well, hopefully I won't need it." Pulling his father onto the power chariot with him, Jonny set off quickly down the long corridor. It took only a moment before he spotted the hole in the floor that marked the pit. Remembering the denizens that lurked in the water below from a previous game where he had 'died' there, he skirted it carefully and took the next corridor to the right. He wove his way skillfully through the traps and pitfalls of the game, having encountered them all at one time or another during previous play. Finally, he spotted the entrance into the central chamber where the challis rested on its pedestal. He stopped the chariot outside the entrance, pulled his father from it and led him to the doorway. Before any of the game's various hazards could start, he called, "IRIS, freeze program."

At almost the exact same time, he heard Race's voice, thick with anger, demand, "What the hell are you two doing?"

"They've logged him into QuestWorld again, Race," Estella said breathlessly while Barbara added, "He seems to be all right. There's no change to the monitors."

"We are trying one last attempt to bring him around, Race," Hadji said evenly.

"We had this discussion last night. I thought we all agreed that we'd reached the end of this nonsense."

"That was before Jonny came up with an idea that may work. At least it is worth trying."

"Jonathan Quest, this is pointless," Race said sternly. "I know how desperately you want to find a way to save your father, but Hadji and Barbara have tried everything and nothing has worked -"

"And if they can't find it, then I sure can't, is that it? Look, what's the harm in trying my idea?" Jonny replied. "If it doesn't work, we're no worse off than we were before."

"Jonny, I know you're hurting," Estella said softly, "but are you sure this is what you want to do? Be reasonable . . ."

"Hadji, log both of them out of there right now," Race demanded.

"No! We will allow him to try his idea."

"I said, log them out! I won't have Benton's wishes defied any longer. He deserves more respect than this. What you're both doing is exactly what he was trying to avoid, and I won't put up with it any longer! IRIS, log out -"

Before he could finish, Jonny cut him off. "IRIS, system override, authorization JQUEST248, code omega, condition red."

"SYSTEM OVERRIDE ACTIVATED, CONDITION RED. AWAITING INSTRUCTIONS."

"Lock out all exterior users with the exception of Hadji Singh. Inactivate all keyboard and voice activated input devices until further notice. Activate self-defense mechanisms. Don't allow yourself to be turned off or the power disrupted."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. ALL EXTERIOR INPUT DEVICES INACTIVATED. VOICE AND KEYBOARD COMMANDS ACCEPTED BY HADJI SINGH ONLY. SELF-DEFENSE MECHANISMS ON-LINE."

"Stay out of it, Race." Jonny said in a hard voice. "We're going to do this, one way or the other. Hadji, you still there?"

"Here."

"What I'm going to do may cause the system to go unstable. If it does, your job is to get me out of here before the system crashes. Got that?"

"Yes. What about Father?"

"You already know the answer to that."

There was a brief silence and then Hadji said quietly, "I understand. I am ready."

There was fear in Race's voice this time when he asked, "What's he doing?"

"IRIS, isolate the programming for the construct 'Benton Quest'."

"WORKING. PROGRAMMING CODE HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AND ISOLATED."

"Load the archival file recently transferred onto the mainframe to resident memory and identify the components of the file."

"FILE CONTAINS ARCHIVED PROGRAMMING CODE FOR THE QUESTWORLD PERSONNAS OF USERS. FILE IS SEVEN YEARS AND 23 DAYS OLD."

"Good. Identify and isolate the programming code for the persona 'Benton Quest'."

"WORKING. PROGRAMMING CODE HAS BEEN IDENTIFIED AND ISOLATED."

Jonny took a deep breath, offered a soft prayer of supplication, and then instructed steadily, "Copy the archival programming for the persona 'Benton Quest' to the main system, overwriting the current programming."

"WORKING."

"What the hell?" Race said explosively. "Benton's in there!"

"Yes," Hadji whispered breathily as he suddenly realized what Jonny was trying to do. "Yes, this may work!"

"WARNING. UNABLE TO COMPLETE REQUESTED ACTIVITY. SHARING VIOLATION HAS OCCURRED. PROGRAMMING CODE FOR PERSONNA 'BENTON QUEST' IS CURRENTLY ACTIVE. SHUT DOWN PROGRAM AND LOG SUBJECT OUT OF QUESTWORLD?"

"Negative, IRIS. Give me a programming override, please."

"PLEASE SPECIFY PASSWORD FOR PROGRAMMING OVERRIDE."

"J248QUEST, code omega override, back door sector matrix 35 x 6870."

For several breathless seconds, IRIS didn't respond. Finally, she said, "SYSTEM OVERRIDE ACKNOWLEDGED. ACCESS TO BASE SYSTEM PROGRAMMING GRANTED. AWAITING FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS."

In the lab, Race turned to Hadji, looking white and shaken. "How long has he been able to access IRIS' base programming? I thought only Benton could do that."

"So did I," Hadji replied, sounding equally shaken. "I knew that he had become very good at programming, and that he had tried writing some specialty programs for IRIS. But I had no idea he was working at that level."

"Parse the programming for persona 'Benton Quest', and overwrite the archival programming. QuestWorld is to remain running. Program MegaQuest is to remaining running."

"WARNING. BENTON QUEST IS CURRENTLY LOGGED INTO QUESTWORLD AND WITHIN THE PROGRAM MEGAQUEST. OVERWRITING OPEN PROGRAM MAY CAUSE INSTABILITY IN THE SYSTEM."

"I understand, IRIS. Just do it."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING."

They all waited breathlessly while IRIS worked to complete the instructions. Suddenly, the frozen image of the challis room in MegaQuest wavered around Jonny and he was struck by a sudden feeling of disorientation.

"The system is becoming unstable!" Hadji said. "IRIS, QuestWorld logout, subject Jonny Quest." But there was no response. "IRIS, get Jonny out of there!" he commanded, typing frantically at his keyboard. Race surged forward, reaching for a power coupling that would cut the power to the system, but before he could reach it, IRIS lashed out, striking him with a low-level stun beam that sent him careening back into a nearby console. "She will not allow you to cut the power, Race," Hadji told him breathlessly as he continued to work at the keyboard. Then, with an exclamation of satisfaction, he said, "I believe I have it . . ."

The headset across Jonny's eyes flared and then went out. He blinked and looked around, dazed. "What happened?"

"The system has become unstable," Hadji told him. "And with the interface to the base programming open, nothing is acting the way I am accustomed."

Jonny shoved himself out of the chair and crossed to one of the keyboards at the main console. "IRIS, release the lockdown on the exterior devices. Status of current task?"

There was a long pause and then she replied, "OVERWRITE OF PERSONA PROGRAM 'BENTON QUEST' COMPLETE."

"Close access to base programming, IRIS. Can you re-establish system stability?"

"WORKING. SYSTEM STABILITY ACHIEVED."

"Good. Now, recompile the persona program 'Benton Quest' checking for corruption and display all damaged code."

"ACKNOWLEDGED. WORKING."

Time stretched painfully as they waited for IRIS' confirmation that she had completed her assigned task.

"What are you trying to do, Jon?" Barbara asked quietly as they waited. "I don't understand."

He rubbed his eyes, suddenly realizing that his head was throbbing. "What is the human brain?" he finally asked her. When Barbara looked at him blankly, he looked past her to the others.

"It is a very small, very complex biological computer," Hadji replied promptly.

Jonny nodded. "And in Dad's case, a computer whose base programming became corrupted by Smallwood's tampering." He sighed. "Almost since I got home, I've been having nightmares."

"Both of you have," Race pointed out.

Jonny nodded again. "I know. So have Jess and Kefira. But mine have been different. While everyone else has been dreaming about what happened in Bangalore, I've been dreaming about Jeremiah Surd and MegaQuest. It took me this long to realize that my subconscious mind has been desperately trying to tell me something. Tonight I finally got it. Dad's brain is a computer . . . a malfunctioning one. Now, there's two basic reasons that a computer malfunctions. It's either a hardware or a software problem. Dr. Mason has said all along that Dad's shown no sign of brain damage, so to continue the analogy, the problem isn't the hardware. That leaves us with a software problem. And how do you fix a software problem?"

"You reboot the system," Hadji replied.

"Which we tried and couldn't make it work. What else?"

"You reload the program," Race volunteered.

"Yes, but we don't have the original disks for Dad's mind." He stopped, thinking about that for a minute. Then he shuddered. "That's a scary thought. There's one other option. Anyone?"

Very softly, Estella murmured, "You reload a backup."

"You reload a backup," Jonny agreed. "And that's what I just tried to do. There's a chance that because of Surd's tampering with QuestWorld, he actually made it possible for me to reload the basic electronic structure of Dad's mind by copying over the programming code Dad and IRIS developed to create the virtual personas in QuestWorld. Whether it worked or not -"

"RECOMPILE COMPLETE," IRIS interrupted. "NO PROGRAMMING ERRORS DETECTED."

". . . we are just about to find out," Jonny finished. He rose, picking up the headset from the console next to him, and went back to the chair at the center of the room. "Log me back in Hadj . . . directly into MegaQuest."

"Jonny, if the system goes unstable again -" Hadji began, but Jonny interrupted him.

"No choice, Hadji. If I'm right, MegaQuest has to be reactivated to complete this process. It's Surd's cyber neural net that's gonna make this work . . . if it works at all. We have to reactivate the program, play it out, and then close it normally. If you activate it without someone in there to defend him, I don't know what will happen. Remember, we haven't played this game since Jess and I got stuck in there with Surd's sleeper virus."

"We got rid of the virus," Hadji protested. "We made certain of it."

"Yeah, but we already know that the changes Surd made that allow the system to transfer what happens to us in there to our bodies out here still works. I don't want to take any chances."

"I'll go with you," Race said, but Jonny shook his head. "And risk both of us if the system crashes? Not a chance. You've got a new baby to think about. My play - my risk." He seated the headset and instructed, "Do it, Hadji."

Shaking his head, Hadji turned back to his keyboard. "QuestWorld logon, subject Jonny Quest. Insertion into running program MegaQuest. Going hot in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ."

Once again, reality disappeared and a moment later Jonny found himself in the paused MegaQuest program.

"Okay, IRIS, remove the isolation of the program persona 'Benton Quest', reinsert into MegaQuest, and run the program." For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then the barest flicker to his right warned him they were live again.

"IRIS, power spear!" he demanded sharply. It materialized in his hand instantly and he spun to face the six-armed gorgon that defended the challis chamber. Jonny leaped forward, rolled and came up underneath the monster. Thrusting the power spear into the monster's belly, he used his weight to flip the creature onto its back, knowing full well that the move would barely slow the creature down. Vaulting out of the way, Jonny surged to his feet and crossed the challis room as a run, making for one of the sconces that lined the wall. Grabbing it, he twisted hard, but it didn't move.

"Dang it! Wrong one." He tried three more before he found the one he wanted. By that time the gorgon was bearing down on him again, roaring loudly.

"God, I hate this game," Race said fervently, watching the action on the large wall monitor. "Why didn't we destroy it when we had the chance?"

"Because Jonny would not allow you to do so," Hadji replied, seeming unfazed by the action in QuestWorld. "And because he had written it, Father said he had the right to decide what happened to it."

"Don't remind me," Race grumbled.

Jonny managed to avoid the monster's attempts to grab him and made another run to the far side of the room where a previously invisible niche had appeared in the wall. Reaching into it, he drew out a sword. Living fire seemed to lick up and down the blade. Just as the monster was about to attack him again, Jonny turned fluidly and with a single, backhanded stroke, he took the monster's head off at the shoulders. The body dropped like a stone. Climbing over it, Jonny crossed to the center of the room, grabbed the challis off of the pedestal, raised it above his head, and called loudly, "I claim this challis by right of conquest."

The program froze and IRIS responded. "PLAYER NUMBER ONE HAS CLAIMED THE CHALLIS. DOES THE SECOND PLAYER WISH TO CHALLENGE PLAYER NUMBER ONE'S CLAIM?" There was no response from Benton. "AS THERE ARE NO CHALLENGERS, THE GAME IS DECLARED OFFICIALLY OVER. INSTRUCTIONS?"

"Log the final score and shut the program down, IRIS. Then log all players out of QuestWorld."

"ACKNOWLEDGED."

An instant later, the ancient stone walls resolved themselves into the lab once more. Pulling off the headset, Jonny rose and crossed to his father. Hadji met him by the stretcher.

"Now what do we do?" Hadji asked.

"We get rid of this stuff and see what happens." At Barbara's soft sound of protest, Jonny looked up. "This was our last chance. Hadji and I agreed. If this didn't work, then we would allow Dad's wishes to stand and let nature take it's course."

Reaching down, he carefully removed the ventilator while Hadji turned off the machines and disconnected the various electrodes. They all waited for a moment but nothing seemed to happen. Finally, Jonny leaned over and shook his father's shoulder gently.

"Dad! Come on, Dad. Wake up!"

For a moment longer nothing happened. Just as they were about to give up, Benton drew a deep breath, opened his eyes and gazed up blearily. "Jonny?" he whispered hoarsely. "What time is it?" Then he blinked, focusing on his youngest son. "What did you do to your hair?"