The desert Simulation stretched in all directions, as far as Dizzy could see. But right now, that didn’t matter. Objective One was getting as far the frak away from that Satanic Cathedral — and the thing it contained — as possible. She had to fight this, she reasoned; she simply had to . . . she had to find a way to wake the frak up! As she ran beside Astrid — and ran, and ran, her NeuroScape Avatar’s simulated, virtual legs began to feel stings of pain from the exertion, her lungs pumping for oxygen as her virtual muscles worked overtime; no doubt her real body — two Levels up, back in the “real world,” strapped into Ravenkroft’s machine — was responding in tune with this one. Ravenkroft would soon realize — wherever he was, one Level up in the Simulation — that things weren’t going to plan, though. If he hadn’t already. That was probably why the Elder God from the Goat-Demon’s Ass (she would have to think of a better name for it; perhaps just “the Elder God”) was rising up out of the Cathedral there in the distance behind them, smashing the arching, spired roof to smithereens in the process — she looked back over her shoulder to see when she heard the racket — and loosing a bellowing, bestial roar that made her blood curdle.
“Where the hell are we actually going?” asked Astrid. They were still running, albeit at a slower pace. They had put some distance between themselves and the Cathedral, but were wearing out now.
Dizzy shook her head and slowed to a walk, out of energy and out of breath. “I dunno, Astrid, I dunno.”
“We need transportation.”
“Hang on,” said Dizzy. “I just thought of something. I’ve got a way to get us the frak outa here.” She made the “terminal” gesture in front of her, and the familiar holographic computer keyboard and monitor appeared. “Y’know, it’s funny. I shouldn’t be able to do any of this. Ravenkroft musta really been in a hurry to construct this Simulation. Because his security is for crap ’n balls.”
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Astrid grinned. “No it isn’t. I hacked it when I looked and saw you were in trouble.”
“Like I said,” said Dizzy, returning her grin, “I owe ya, soul-sistah. Now, then.” She looked back the way they’d come. The Elder God had started flapping its wings and had risen up above the Cathedral, in the distance, and was now flying . . . after them Dizzy set to quickly typing commands out on the keyboard, and scrolling through data on the monitor. “Ah! I knew it was in here somewhere!”
Dizzy reached into the holographic monitor in front of her, and grabbed another hologram in her hand: A tiny replica of the Fangirl. She tossed it out in front of her and the keyboard and monitor disappeared; as the holographic toy car tumbled through the air, it glowed a bright green color, scan-lines of fierce electrical, digital energy coursing back and forth over its surface and its geometry, and it began to enlarge, quickly growing from a miniature into a full-size replica of the Fangirl, an exact duplicate of the “real world” vehicle, perfect in every detail. As the electric arcs, digital energy, and holographic contrails ceased scanning it into physical existence, the car’s tires hit the desert sand and it landed upright with a wheezing lurch of its suspension system, wobbling on its wheels and ready for action, its warp nacelles aglow with the eldritch witch-light of Repulsivator energy and its engine compartment pulsating with electricity and the mechanical whirling of the machinery there. The cockpit was alive with lights and controls, the engine already running.
“Get in,” said Dizzy, hurriedly crossing to the driver’s side and getting in.
“Wow,” said Astrid, as she climbed into the passenger seat. “Sweet ride.”
“I know,” smiled Dizzy. She put the car in gear, and smashed the accelerator pedal to the floor, and they peeled out just as the Elder God swooped down through the air above where they’d stood.
