Last Stand on the Ocean Shore Page 8

  “But violence doesn’t solve anything,” the gray-haired crafter said. “It only breeds more violence. We aren’t part of your fight … just leave us alone.”

  “Listen to me!” Gameknight shouted. “Herobrine and his horde don’t care if you believe in fighting or not. He’ll destroy everyone here if it suits his purpose; he’s done it to hundreds of villages, and the names of all those who have fallen to his wicked desires are too numerous to count.” Pausing for a moment, the User-that-is-not-a-user raised his hand, fingers spread wide, then clenched it into a fist …the salute to the dead. He squeezed his hand hard, trying the crush the memory of so many that had perished because of him. Everyone in the chamber could hear his knuckles crack as he squeezed and could see the look of rage in his eyes. “Everyone is part of this war. The Last Battle is coming like a freight train with no brakes.”

  “What’s a freight train?” Crafter asked.

  “Yeah, and what are brakes?” the villager crafter asked.

  “It’s not important right now, but what is important is that we are prepared,” Gameknight explained. “We aren’t staying here in the desert; this is not where the Last Battle will be, and all of you must go with us.”

  “We aren’t going to leave our village,” the crafter said. “This is our home. You can’t expect us to just pack up and leave.”

  “I know I’m new to Minecraft,” Monet said, “but I’ve come to learn that a home is not defined by the walls that surround you; it is defined by the people who surround you.” She took a step forward and put a soft hand on the crafter’s arm. “If you don’t do as my brother says, all those around you will be destroyed, without mercy.” She looked up into the crafter’s brown eyes and spoke softly. “Nobody likes this war, but all of Minecraft is in it, whether they know it or not. You have a chance to help stop the violence and bring peace back to the land. If you don’t help, more NPCs will perish. Do you want to live with that? Can you live with that?”

  The crafter paused to consider her words, then turned and looked at his friends in the crafting chamber. Their dark eyes were all looking to their crafter, expecting him to keep them safe. Slowly, he brought his gaze back to the User-that-is-not-a-user and sighed.

  “If you don’t come with us, you’ll get overrun by monsters,” Gameknight explained. “Eventually Herobrine will figure out that we’re here, and then he’ll send everything he has against us. Our defenses are not strong enough here, and this location cannot be defended well; it’s too exposed. We need a place where we can use the environment to our advantage. If you don’t leave with us, you will die.”

  Suddenly, a burst of glaring bright light filled the crafting chamber, then faded away, revealing Gameknight’s user friend, Shawny, standing before him. All the NPCs saw the server thread shining bright, stretching from Shawny’s head and piercing the rocky ceiling overhead. Instantly, they all stood up straight, dropped their tools, and linked their hands across their chests.

  “Hi, Gameknight; hi, Monet,” Shawny said with a goofy smile. “What’s new?” He then glanced around at the NPCs, then turned back to Gameknight. “I hoped they wouldn’t be doing that anymore.”

  “They can’t be seen talking or using their hands in front of any users … you know that!” Gameknight answered, a frown on his square face. “What are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk, and I didn’t want to do it through chat,” Shawny answered, then turned and faced Crafter. “Hi, Crafter; good to see you again. The last time I saw you, we were battling to save Minecraft on the steps of the Source. I know you can’t reply, but it is good to see you again. You should listen to what I have to say.”

  “Come on, Shawny, get to it,” Gameknight insisted.

  “OK, OK,” his friend answered. “Here’s the deal. None of the users can get on any of the servers across Minecraft. They’re still blocked by that thing that Herobrine did a while back. But I’ve been talking with some friends, Impafra, Kuwagata498, and AttackMoose52, and I think we came up with something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, we figured out how to reroute some of the other Minecraft servers through your dad’s computer to connect up with Mojang. We then reconfigured the router to—”

  “What are you talking about?” Gameknight asked. “You know that I know nothing about computer networks.”

  “What I’m saying is, it might be possible for some users to come online onto this server,” Shawny explained. “I don’t know if your router can handle all the traffic, and I don’t know how many people we can contact … but it’s possible.”

  “This is great … but …” Gameknight faced Crafter, then turned back to Shawny. “If it’s only a handful of people, it will do more harm than good … you understand?”

  “Yeah,” Shawny answered, glancing to the linked arms across the NPC chests. “The big question is … how much traffic can your connection to the Internet take? If we blow the network, I don’t know what might happen. You might get disconnected from Mojang, or the server might crash, or … who knows. It’s a big risk, but I thought you should know.”

  “What about the digitizer? Is it working?”

  “Nope … I’ve pretty much given up,” Shawny said as he looked to the ground. “Sorry, but I just can’t find the parts in your basement. Your dad must have a supply of components somewhere, but I have no idea where to look. If he were here, it would be a different story.”

  “Maybe he’ll be back soon,” Monet said, an insincere smile on her face.

  “Yeah, well, that’s not too likely, is it?” Gameknight replied. “I’ve learned to do things on my own over the last couple of years. Shawny, you’ll just need to do the same. Do what you can … but for now, you should go so that we can get back to work in here.”

  “OK, but don’t do anything stupid,” Shawny said with a smile.

  “You sound like Hunter,” he replied just as his friend disappeared.

  Once Shawny was gone, the NPCs bent down and picked up their tools and continued their work.

  “Sorry about that, everyone,” Gameknight shouted. “I wasn’t exactly expecting him to just appear.”

  “A little warning next time would be helpful,” Crafter said with a scowl.

  “I’ll give you as much warning as I can. But now let’s go check out the defenses.” Gameknight moved up next to Crafter and whispered in his ear. “I have a bad feeling that something is gonna happen soon.”

  “What was that?” Monet asked.

  “Nothing,” Gameknight replied. “Let’s go.”

  Crafter nodded and placed a reassuring hand on his square shoulder, then turned and headed up the stairs, Monet following close behind.

  “Keep making minecarts,” Gameknight said to the village crafter. “I bet many lives will depend on these minecarts. Also, set up TNT around all the minecart tunnels. We many need to seal them quickly.”

  The crafter stared at Gameknight, then glanced at the letters over his head, then up to the server thread that was not there. Sighing, the crafter nodded his head and turned to give commands to his workers.

  Gameknight headed back up the steps that led to the secret tunnels and the surface. When he reached the two iron doors at the top of the stairway, the User-that-is-not-a-user looked down at the crafting chamber. Half of the workers were crafting minecarts, while the other half were banging out armor and weapons. The cacophony was nearly deafening.

  Satisfied, he turned and opened the iron doors at the top of the stairs. As he stepped into the next chamber, he found Monet at his side.

  “You know, you said something earlier, back while we were on the ocean, and it didn’t sit very well with me,” she said.

  “What did I say?”

  “You said something about Dad,” Monet said, “and that he’s never around.”

  “Yeah … so?”

  “You know he’s traveling because he’s trying to sell his inventions,” she explained.

  “Of course I know
that,” Gameknight answered as he stepped away from the iron doors and headed across the circular chamber.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” she snapped.

  “Now you sound like Mom,” he replied, but stopped in the center of the chamber.

  Monet scowled at her brother. “Listen, Dad is doing what he has to do to take care of our family,” she said. “I know he hates being away … flying to different cities … living out of a suitcase. But he’s doing it for us.”

  “Is he?” Gameknight asked as he turned and faced his sister. He took a step closer so that he was looking down at her. “Is he really doing it for us, or is he doing this invention thing so that he can be famous? You know just as well as I do that he really wants people to know how great he is. He worked at the big company for a long time, working on airplane engines and lasers and stuff, but nobody paid any attention to him. Now he’s trying to get noticed with his inventions, and we’re the ones who end up suffering!”

  “NO!” she snapped. “That’s not true. Dad would never do that.”

  “Really? Then why has he been secretive about what he’s trying to sell?” Gameknight replied. “If you look around at his creations in our basement, do you see any of them that are worth buying? The only thing he’s made that does what it’s supposed to do is the digitizer, but you know just as well as I do that it’s too dangerous to be sold. If it got into the wrong hands, people could do some really bad things with it, and you know it.”

  Gameknight turned away from his sister to stare at the wall. All the anger and frustration with his father had been building up for a long time, and now the feelings were boiling over. He could hear Crafter walking softly through the chamber and heading for the tunnels. Obviously his friend did not want to intrude on this sibling discussion.

  “I don’t believe any of that rubbish,” Monet said. “Dad loves us more than any of his inventions, and he’s just trying to do what he can to provide for us.”

  “And being away is how he does it?”

  Monet stepped up to her brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “He’s doing what he must and needs our support and understanding,” she said.

  “I’m tired of being supportive and understanding. I just want him home. Is that too much to ask for?”

  He sighed and looked down at the ground.

  “I don’t want to be the man of the house anymore,” Gameknight continued in a soft voice. “I just want to be a kid. But, no, I have to take care of you and pretend I’m happy so that Mom won’t get worried. I’m tired of acting out a lie. I just want to be me.”

  “But don’t you see? If he makes his big sale, he’ll be home all the time,” Monet said. “We won’t have to share him with the airports and train stations. It will just be us … together.”

  “I hope so, Jenny. I really hope so … but when?”

  Gameknight faced his sister. He could see that she had a tiny square tear in the corner of her eye. This made him choke with emotion, drawing the same square tear from his own eye. Reaching out, he wrapped his hands around his sister and hugged her tight.

  “I hope you’re right Jenny, I really do.”

  “Me, too, Tommy.”

  “Come on, Monet,” he said as he released his sister and wiped his eye on his sleeve. “We have a village to defend and a massive army of monsters to defeat.”

  “And don’t forget Herobrine,” she added with a smile.

  “Oh, yeah, Herobrine, too,” Gameknight said with a laugh. “Come on.”

  They turned and headed through the tunnels and up the long vertical ladder.

  When they reached the bottom floor of the watchtower, Gameknight could hear the chaos before he saw anything. It sounded as if every pair of hands in the village were building something. As he exited the sandstone tower, he could see a beautiful four-block-high wall surrounding their position. Archer towers were interspersed all throughout the village, their platforms standing at least ten blocks high. Outside the wall, Gameknight could hear NPCs yelling and digging, likely planting some little surprises for the monsters.

  Suddenly, a jubilant shout came from the watchtower. Glancing to the top, Gameknight could see Hunter with her bow, her wild red hair blowing in the wind.

  “I hit another one,” she shouted.

  Notching an arrow, she fired up into the air, shooting at who knows what. She fired again and again, but finally gave up.

  “What are you shooting at?” Gameknight shouted.

  “Bats,” she yelled down to him. “I hate those filthy creatures.”

  “Well, quit goofing off and get down here!”

  In seconds, she was standing at his side, a huge smile on her face.

  “What are you so happy about?” Gameknight asked.

  “I’ve been shooting down bats,” she said. “You can’t believe how many are flying around. I don’t trust them after going to the Nether. They’re just as bad as the monsters and should be destroyed.”

  Gameknight gave Crafter a worried look, then turned back to Hunter.

  “What would bats be doing out here on the desert instead of underground?” Crafter asked.

  “I don’t know, but I got all of them except for the last one,” Hunter said. “That one was just too far away, and I missed it.”

  “One got away?” Gameknight asked.

  Hunter nodded her head. “But I’d say getting twelve out of thirteen is still OK.”

  “I don’t like this,” Gameknight said as he glanced around the village. “They’re coming … I can feel it. Hunter, post guards all around and get everyone inside the walls. Have everyone get some rest, but keep the guards watching the desert.”

  “Monet, I want you up in that archer tower over there.” He pointed to a tall column of wood and stone. “Have Stitcher up there with you and keep your eyes open.”

  His sister nodded her head, then turned and ran off, her bright blue hair flinging in a wide arc like an ocean wave.

  The User-that-is-not-a-user headed for one of the beds that had been placed on the ground near the crops. Sitting down, Gameknight looked at his hands. They were shaking. He needed rest, but that was not why they were shaking.

  Will he be here tonight? Will I have to face Herobrine here in this village?

  Glancing around at all the villagers, he could see parents getting their children ready for bed, a look of apprehension on their boxy faces. Innocent shopkeepers, bakers, farmers, and craftsmen moving to stand on the wall that surrounded their once-peaceful village, a look of confused fear on their faces. He’d brought this to their doorstep, and it was his responsibility to keep them safe … but could he?

  Laying back, Gameknight tried to reach for the puzzle pieces that would help him if the monsters came, but there was nothing, only silence.

  How can I keep all these people safe if Herobrine arrives with his army? We barely have a hundred NPCs within the walls.

  You can accomplish only what you can imagine, an ancient voice said in Gameknight’s mind. You can accomplish only what you can imagine … you can accomplish only what you can imagine… . The Oracle’s voice, mixed with the music of Minecraft, gradually lulled him into a restful sleep. But just before he fell asleep, Gameknight thought he heard a hint of desperate uncertainty within the harmonious melody, as if the Oracle herself were afraid.

  CHAPTER 11

  REAPER

  Herobrine cackled evilly as he materialized in the narrow tunnel. His red woodcutter’s smock, the apparel from his last victim, was barely visible in the darkness.

  The tunnel in which he stood was long and straight, though the walls and floor were uneven. Herobrine could see that the passage extended for probably twenty blocks, if not more, and though the walls undulated with the length, the center of the tunnel seemed laser-beam straight. Teleporting as far as his vision would let him, the shadow-crafter quickly found the end of the corridor. It seemed to stop at a blank wall of gravel with a single cube of rock sticking out in the middle
. Pushing gently on the lone block, Herobrine could hear stones moving, their rough surfaces scraping against each other as the barrier of gravel slowly slid to the side, revealing a new passage. The secret tunnel had smooth walls and floors, as if meticulously carved by a group of expert diggers.

  Herobrine knew that this was the place.

  Stepping into the new corridor, the music of Minecraft swelled, and Herobrine smiled. He could sense an apprehensive, almost terrified feel to the music. Baring an eerie, toothy grin, Herobrine stretched out his arm, as if embracing the world with his suffocating touch. He could feel Gameknight999’s fear through the music of Minecraft, and it brought him such joy that he wanted to destroy something.

  “Why aren’t there monsters around when I feel the need to destroy one?” he said to the empty passage.

  He’s probably sleeping, and his emotions are leaking through into the Land of Dreams and the music of Minecraft, Herobrine thought as his eyes brightened with evil intent. I should go torture him in his dreams … give him a little nightmare.

  But just as he was about to move into the Land of Dreams, a noise echoed through the tunnel. It sounded like a collection of sticks clattering together … and Herobrine knew that he was close to his destination.

  “Another time, User-that-is-not-a-user,” he sneered, then headed down the tunnel.

  The narrow tunnel pierced through the foundation of Minecraft, going straight for a bit, then turning to the left, then to the right, then sloping downward steeply. Herobrine followed the serpentine passage, teleporting when he could see the end of a straight portion, walking when he had no other choice. It wasn’t possible for him to teleport directly to his destination without having been there before. Any miscalculation could cause him to materialize within solid stone, and Herobrine wasn’t sure what would happen to him in that situation. So, to be safe, he used his teleportation powers only when he could see his destination, or when he’d been there before.

  The clattering sound grew louder … he was getting closer.

  Herobrine moved faster through the twisting tunnels. As he walked, the temperature in the passage began to rise; he was getting close to lava. A smile grew on his boxy face at the warm feeling; lava always reminded him of comfort and safety … of home. But this was not his home; it was theirs. And it would stay theirs as long as they did his bidding.