“That’s it?” Michael asked, feeling stupid. “Activate this and all our problems are solved?”
Weber stepped back and nodded. “Just like I told you—find the building, break in, find whatever it is that represents his central programming. Insert the Lance device, enter the code. The results will be messy. Get out fast and either find a Portal or I’ll Lift you myself once I know you’re clear. I just wish it were less dangerous.”
“Why do I get the feeling things probably won’t go so smoothly?” Sarah asked, her arms folded as she stared at the bag on Michael’s hip.
“That’s why I’m sending you three,” Weber replied. “I trust you. I’ve seen what you can accomplish. Things are … very complicated among my agents. This needs to be a quiet, small operation.”
“And the Hider codes?” Bryson asked. “Those are still all in place?”
Weber nodded curtly. “Of course. Kaine should have no idea you’re coming. The same applies as before—you won’t be able to see the code like you’re used to, and Lifeblood Deep is realistic on a level you absolutely won’t believe until you see it for yourself. Use your NetScreens if you have to.”
She directed a sheepish look Michael’s way. He’d lived most of his life thinking the Deep was the real world. It was a painful reminder of everything he’d lost.
“Now, any questions before I send you off?” Weber looked eager for them to get to work.
Michael and his friends traded looks. And shrugged.
Agent Weber appeared satisfied, almost smiling.
“Good,” she said. “Time to Squeeze you into the Deep.”
Michael’s back was pressed against the marble wall between Sarah and Bryson. Weber had told them to hold hands, to not let go no matter how bad things got. Bryson’s hand felt meaty and sweaty, Sarah’s dainty and soft. Michael liked hers a lot better.
Weber faced them, standing a few feet away, a grave look on her face. “I’ll be doing most of the work,” she said. “All you have to do is close your eyes and endure the … intense sensations you’re about to experience.”
“You mean the unbearable pain,” Bryson muttered. “Pain that’s going to make me cry.”
Michael smiled a little, but his heart thumped like the foot of a nervous cartoon rabbit he’d seen on the Vids years and years ago. He wanted to get this part over with.
“Pain, yes,” Weber replied. “But there are also things worse than pain. Just keep hold of each other, try not to panic, and … endure. It won’t last as long as you might think. Once you’re in, get the job done as quickly as possible.” She looked at the bag on Michael’s shoulder—he’d slung it across his chest to make sure it didn’t fall off. “You know what to do, right?”
He nodded stiffly, impatient to get going.
The agent gave them a warm smile, her face creased in what Michael could swear looked like sympathy. It helped, a little, and if Michael had been alone he just might’ve hugged her and said goodbye.
“Okay,” Weber said. “Close your eyes.”
A good minute or two passed before the process began. Michael counted the seconds down for a bit, then abandoned the idea when his anxiety spiked even more. The first thing he noticed was the dimming of the lights. Darkness swept over them, and he had the urge to open his eyes. He didn’t really know if Weber had meant they needed to keep them closed, or if that would only help. Crap, he thought. He should’ve asked her.
“Do you think—” he started to say, but a loud humming cut him off.
It felt as if the air suddenly had weight, as if it was pressing in on his eardrums with a heavy buzz. His skin tingled, and he shifted on his feet, feeling more and more uncomfortable. All he could do was hold on tightly to Sarah’s and Bryson’s hands and not let go. No matter what. He needed them—he was far more scared than felt natural. Maybe it was the uncertainty that made it so bad.
The world pressed in, the sound getting louder. Michael imagined the LiquiGels back in the Coffin, pressing in on his skin as if he’d lain down in water that was freezing solid. He tried shifting again, but it did no good. The strain made him feel every pulse of his heart beating, feel the pumping of the blood in his temples, his neck, the crooks of his elbows, everywhere.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.