The Rule of Thoughts (The Mortality Doctrine #2)

“Things should’ve settled down by now, right?” she asked.

“At least a little. If they’ve been watching the Sleep, I’m sure they expected us to have gone in by now.” The truth was that Michael been worried about this. Kaine was even more powerful inside the VirtNet, but then again, so were Michael and Sarah. They were doing the right thing. “Let’s just hope Bryson’s okay. I bet they’ve been watching him like a hawk.”

“Like a hawk,” Sarah repeated with a grin. She always made fun of him for using old-man clichés. “I’m sure his new identity is even better than ours.”

“Yeah. You get enough?” He nodded at the cereal. It was what passed for gourmet without his nanny, Helga, around. His heart ached at the thought of her. He missed that crazy old German woman so much. Even more than his parents, if he was honest. But he was trying his best not to let himself go down that road—it was possible they still existed. It was.

“I think three bowls oughta do it,” Sarah confirmed.

“Then let’s Sink.”

They left the dishes on the table.




It was weird for Michael to get into the Coffin. Not that it felt any different from the countless times he’d done it before. It was just that this was the first time he was doing it as a flesh-and-blood human. It scared him and excited him at the same time. Even though his life had gone from crummy to crappy, he was eager to Sink into the Sleep again. In many ways, he was literally going home.

Sarah had closed her bedroom door—most people stripped naked before getting into a NerveBox. Keeping his boxers on just in case, he stepped into his brand-new Coffin, the latest and greatest model, and lay down. He pulled the door shut on its hinges, relishing the feel of the tiny NerveWires snaking across his skin and burrowing inside, the sound and feel of the AirPuffs and LiquiGels surrounding him, all systems testing to make sure he’d have a true VirtNet experience.

Of course, part of him feared it. Things were so different now. How could he know what might happen? And there was Kaine. Always Kaine. But then …

There was also Helga. His parents. His old life. Maybe, just maybe, they were out there somewhere. Somehow.

He closed his eyes and the Sleep took him away.




Most people ended up at a Portal in a public place when they Sank into the VirtNet, anything from a city street to a mall. Then you walked or rode to the destination you were in the mood for. Restaurant, movies, massage parlor, dance hall. Or, of course, the gaming depots. Michael had an itch to do just that but knew it was the last thing on the list. This was not a gaming tour.

When he Sank into the Sleep this time, he chose to emerge in an emptiness like deep space, with code swirling around him. These Sink locations existed, but your average gamer wouldn’t know how to find them. Or care to, really—Michael and Sarah wanted to be sure to stay out of sight.

Michael floated amid numbers and letters moving in a blur of speed. He could easily sense Sarah’s presence, and he reached out with virtual fingers to manipulate the code around him. He was relieved to discover that he hadn’t lost his touch. Swiping and typing, he moved code around almost faster than he could think. Sarah was doing the same, following the plan they’d laid out.

Soon an opening appeared, a black square—a silhouette against the code. It was like the Portals that flashed open around the stone disc of the Path. Michael catapulted himself forward and through the opening to a place that only three people in the world knew about.

His feet landed on a soft forest floor, moist leaves giving under his weight with a squish. Mist curled around his legs, and giant trees surrounded him, moss hanging from their limbs as if they were melting. The forest was a work of art; it looked ancient, and Michael and his friends had spent countless hours designing it out of code. But the true masterpiece was the tree house they had programmed, one of his proudest achievements. On the outskirts of the outskirts of Lifeblood, in a place no one would ever go. And if anyone did go there, they wouldn’t be able to see the tree house anyway. It was a brilliant example of elusive code.

Sarah was already climbing the ladder, disappearing through the trapdoor. Michael sucked in a deep breath of the clean, fake air, then followed her up. He’d thought it would seem strange being back inside the Sleep, but it felt just like old times, nothing out of the ordinary. Which brought both comfort and relief.

He had just reached the top rung when a blur of movement raced by to the left. He turned to look, but there was nothing. Just an oak tree, twisted and gnarled.

No, he thought, more annoyed than scared. No way somebody found this place on purpose. It had to be an accident, some kid dinking around.