I imagine that there was some Konami executive or programmer who\u2019d dreamed of it, though I do not know their name \u2014 someone who\u2019d dreamed the grandest dream ever dreamt by a middle-aged gaming console programmer, that people across the world should hook their dance pads together via a wireless Internet connection and the Ultimate Konami Cheat Code and dance the Great Networked Thunder Dance to sweep away the evil prophet of space.<\/p>\n
It has been there, implicit in the code, waiting;<\/p>\n
And the dancers have been waiting too.<\/p>\n
They did not even know it, most of them, but they have been waiting.<\/p>\n
Now they are not waiting.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s no turning back now!<\/em><\/p>\n Riding the Symbol of the Gathering, they fly southwards to Mount Hook.<\/p>\n They stand there, then, a baker\u2019s dozen of un-chilled bodies in the snow.<\/p>\n There are Emily and Margerie. There is old, hobbling Kalov. There are Doug and Meredith, Ben, Christine, and Kasumi \u2014 um, not that<\/em> Ben, obviously, not the one who was eaten, that would be just gross, it\u2019s a different one \u2014 and Dancer X, and Hot Coffee; Footwork, and Phobos; and, of course, Lucy Souvante, the evil prophet of space.<\/p>\n \u201cHunh,\u201d says Lucy.<\/p>\n She starts to throw paper. She starts to brandish an evil prophecy.<\/p>\n She forgets to count one-two-three.<\/em><\/p>\n The wind of the dance falls upon her and it is howling as it comes.<\/p>\n It rends her.<\/p>\n It rips her apart as she has ripped apart others. She hangs in the air in pieces. Her hands and her feet and her mouth scrabble at the air to try to draw her back together again.<\/p>\n Emily dances THE SCISSORS.<\/p>\n Margerie throws GLORY.<\/p>\n And so many others! So many Symbols! Even Doug, that sweat-drenched beginner, is desperately dancing MISSHAPEN METAL LUMP in opposition to the evil prophet of space.<\/p>\n Thunder peals.<\/p>\n The Dancers rip the evil prophet down to the seething particles of her and her smile.<\/p>\n The PlayStation 6s through which the Dancers dance grow hot. They suckle at the arctic evening air. A single particle of the evil prophet finds its way in through the vents and touches on the networked code.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know what I am going to do?\u201d Lucy whispers, to Hot Coffee.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d says Hot Coffee.<\/p>\n \u201cI am going to redefine LIVE_BURIAL to TRUE.\u201d<\/p>\n And before any of the dancers can say anything \u2014 before they can even utter a word \u2014<\/p>\n Lucy does just that, and the mountain falls.<\/p>\n They are still guarded by the dance. Among other things \u2014 when she used the Cheat Code \u2014 Emily turned off the safeties. If the safeties are off \u2014 perhaps this is ironic \u2014 there is no way a Thunder Dancer in an active Konami Thunder Dance can die.<\/p>\n So none of them die in that moment \u2014<\/p>\n But even so.<\/p>\n Most of them never wake up again.<\/p>\n Margerie opens her eyes long enough for a moment of satisfaction. A good dancer ought <\/em>to be buried alive.<\/p>\n Kalov grumbles with finality.<\/p>\n Phobos wakes fully but to no avail; his chest is pinned and he screams silently until he dies.<\/p>\n Time passes.<\/p>\n Emily startles open her eyes.<\/p>\n She is buried under the mountain. She can scarcely breathe. She can\u2019t move: there are rocks pinning her. Everywhere she is held down. The pain of it is horrible.<\/p>\n She is only alive because the PS6s are sturdy. They are not breakable by anything so small as a mountain falling upon them. Sure, the power is gone, now that she failed to finish the dance that she was dancing \u2014 but the machines themselves are sturdy. They have propped up the tumbled rock in certain limited ways.<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n It is soft and meek and the word is lost in the channels of the fallen mountain and she coughs and only the red light of a PlayStation on standby breaks the darkness.<\/p>\n She has a moment\u2019s hope that Jeremiah Clean will come and rescue her; or Fred \u2014<\/p>\n Wait. No.<\/p>\n Fred, like Eldri, like . . . so many of her friends . . . he\u2019s dead. And Jeremiah Clean isn\u2019t a tame<\/em> janitor.<\/p>\n A few gleams of red light under Mount Hook\u2019s rubble isn\u2019t messy enough to draw him this far south.<\/p>\n \u201cI feel,\u201d she says, to unseen angels, \u201cthat I should apologize to the world, for now the evil prophet of space will probably kill everybody \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n She stops speaking with a gasp of pain. The rock has shifted. It grinds awfully into her back.<\/p>\n And laughing and crying she thinks, \u201cRock beats scissors.\u201d<\/p>\n A concept pushes itself into her mind. She starts to think something. It is billowing in her mind like wind-tossed clouds and unfolding itself like a flower. She tries to articulate it but it is as if the mouth of her mind is full of cotton; she cannot find the words for things, she cannot find the names, she cannot find that beautiful fire that once had filled her mind. In the pain and the cold and the isolation of it all she has lost the thread of the jaguar-light that once possessed her.<\/p>\n The edge of something else catches on her consciousness instead.<\/p>\n It\u2019s ridiculous. It\u2019s really quite stupid. But she can\u2019t help it.<\/p>\n She counts to three under her breath. She is caught up in a memory. She counts to three and she closes her fist.<\/p>\n The rock shifts again.<\/p>\n It lifts from her, just a bit. Then it is grinding, grinding, pushing back away from her, and in the little cavern that forms she sees the cross-legged form of Navvy Jim.<\/p>\n One hand is holding up an improvised roof.<\/p>\n The other, paper.<\/p>\n Emily giggles. Then she laughs. Then pain shoots through her ribcage and she chokes and she says, \u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou cannot think to defeat me at rock-paper-scissors simply by draining my battery, taking me apart, packing me in boxes, and hiding under a mountain,\u201d says Navvy Jim. \u201cThat is the kind of hijink only beneficial against amateurs.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d she says, and brokenly she smiles at him. She isn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n So much pain and so much silence; but she isn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n \u201cBut . . . it is dangerous to play rock-paper-scissors here,\u201d he says. \u201cThe mountain throws rock. So rock and paper, perhaps, are safe, but if you had played scissors, you would have been crushed under tons of rock.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMountains don\u2019t care about rock-paper-scissors,\u201d says Emily. \u201cThey\u2019re not like robots.\u201d<\/p>\n Navvy Jim hesitates.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is a mountain?\u201d he says. \u201cWhat is not a mountain? There is only the world.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou saved my life,\u201d Emily says.<\/p>\n \u201cI am a good robot,\u201d smugs Navvy Jim.<\/p>\n There is silence for a while.<\/p>\n Tendrils of evil mist slowly slip into the chamber. The evil prophet congeals.<\/p>\n She looks between them.<\/p>\n \u201cMy God,\u201d she says, referring neither to the Judeo-Christian God or the evil god of space but rather expressing both a blasphemy and a sense of wonder:<\/p>\n She is staring at Navvy Jim.<\/p>\n \u201cI knew it,\u201d she says. \u201cI knew it. I knew <\/em>there was someone on this planet who was good enough to give me a proper game.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d says Emily.<\/p>\n But Navvy Jim is nodding. \u201cYou would be a worthy rock-paper-scissors opponent,\u201d Navvy Jim concedes.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t expect to find you,\u201d says Lucy, \u201cwhile finishing off these dancers. You vanished before I got to this stupid planet. You left <\/em>me.\u201d<\/p>\n There is relief in her voice. There is a strange joy in it. She is as Emily, when first Emily saw the jaguar Bahlum; when first Emily understood what beauty was, that it was there, just waiting, in the world, for her to witness it: O See It Move!<\/em><\/p>\n The evil prophet of space is actually wiping away a tear.<\/p>\n Navvy Jim is hesitant. \u201cDid you wish to play,\u201d he says, \u201cthen?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNavvy Jim!\u201d Emily says.<\/p>\n But their faces. Emily can\u2019t bear it. Their faces.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cFine,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n She looks away. She sulks.<\/p>\n \u201cYou must understand,\u201d says Navvy Jim, \u201cthat if I do not play, she wins by default \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n He trails off.<\/p>\n She\u2019d say something here. She really would. She\u2019d reassure him, or she\u2019d critique him \u2014 but it\u2019s not like she\u2019s really gotten better<\/em>, magically, just because she took her hat off; at best, she\u2019s gotten pretty good by now at pretending<\/em> to be a normal girl.<\/p>\n So she\u2019s quiet there. She doesn\u2019t say anything. Navvy Jim nods to her gravely.<\/p>\n Then the evil prophet of space, and Navvy Jim, square off.<\/p>\n \u201cI should warn you,\u201d says Lucy, \u201cthat I always throw paper. That\u2019s how I\u2019m going to kill you and the human. With paper.\u201d<\/p>\n Navvy Jim\u2019s eyes dim, then brighten.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would you do that?\u201d he asks.<\/p>\n Summarizes Lucy Souvante: \u201cIt is what I do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d says Navvy Jim, \u201cthe three symbols are mathematically equivalent, in any case.\u201d<\/p>\n The evil prophet laughs. It\u2019s startled from her. It\u2019s pure and clean. And she says, \u201cYes.<\/em> Yes, of course they are.\u201d<\/p>\n And in a flash of insight Emily remembers the mountain that surrounds them, the great bulk of rock around them, and a shout bursts from her, racking the inside of her with pain: \u201cDon\u2019t throw scissors, Navvy Jim!\u201d<\/p>\n The evil prophet is counting to three.<\/p>\n Navvy Jim glances at Emily.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course I won\u2019t,\u201d he says. \u201cThe mountain always throws rock.\u201d<\/p>\n And the evil prophet brandishes her evil prophecy. And Navvy Jim\u2019s palm is flat. The aegis of evil prophecy burns around him, it scars his metal, but his palm is flat, so it does not kill.<\/p>\n \u201cA tie,\u201d says the evil prophet. \u201cRethrow.\u201d<\/p>\n Softly, he counts to three.<\/p>\n She brandishes her evil prophecy, and Navvy Jim his palm.<\/p>\n \u201cA tie,\u201d says the evil prophet. \u201cRethrow.\u201d<\/p>\n Navvy Jim says, \u201cFor all the money?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course,\u201d says the evil prophet.<\/p>\n \u201cIf I win,\u201d says Navvy Jim, \u201cyou\u2019ll leave this world?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNavvy Jim,\u201d says Emily, and her face is as pale as the snow.<\/p>\n \u201cPerhaps,\u201d the evil prophet says.<\/p>\n And Navvy Jim\u2019s eyes glow blue.<\/p>\n And softly the evil prophet counts to three.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, no,\u201d says Emily. \u201cOh, no.\u201d<\/p>\n Her hand is twitching on the ground. She is drawing with her finger. She goes up up down down left right left right B and A, but she is still working on that last A of the Konami Cheat Code when the third count is counted \u2014<\/p>\n And the evil prophet brandishes her evil prophecy; and Navvy Jim, with a great screeching of metal, splits into scissors the fingers of his hand; and simultaneously with BEING CRUSHED BY ROCKS, Emily finishes the code and she throws Dynamite with her foot.<\/p>\n She isn\u2019t the kind of player who would do this. She really isn\u2019t. Not since the hatting.<\/p>\n But she does.<\/p>\n And the last things that Emily sees as the world goes white are Navvy Jim lunging for her to catch her as she falls and the hideously betrayed expression of the evil prophet as she shouts:<\/p>\n \u201cYou can\u2019t throw <\/em>Dynamite. This is rock-paper-scissors!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n They don\u2019t let you do things like that, it seems, at the evil academy of space.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I imagine that there was some Konami executive or programmer who\u2019d dreamed of it, though I do not know their name \u2014 someone who\u2019d dreamed the grandest dream ever dreamt by a middle-aged gaming console programmer, that people across the world should hook their dance pads together via a wireless Internet connection and the Ultimate […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":5487,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[68],"tags":[],"series":[50],"class_list":["post-6918","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-vidars-boot-chapter-22","series-vidars-boot"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/Just_Lucy-e1422844935718.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6918","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6918"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6918\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6919,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6918\/revisions\/6919"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5487"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6918"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6918"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6918"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fseries&post=6918"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}