Chapter Twenty-Four
Gazing intensely at the twenty-four inch, 3-D, flat-panel computer monitor in
front of them, Paul Pontiac and Tim Hegler patiently watched as Daniel E.
Whitehouse the Third (who had recently turned twelve), grabbed his wireless
Logitech mouse and clicked the pulsating silvery-white icon at the bottom of
his Windows screen.
“Do you think this is actually going to work?” Tim asked, raising his multidimensional viewing glasses.
“I’m not sure,” Paul said as an egg-shaped asteroid similar to Haley’s Comet began to soar toward them. The meteor exponentially increased in size while the words Plutonium Revenge flashed like an extended gold-colored firework display, both above and below. “I’ve never coded anything like this before. There was never a need to.”
Tim nodded his understanding as the game’s start-up demo and programming credits steadily rolled across the screen.
“I think my system’s about ready,” Daniel stated, his eyes twinkling as he joined his friend’s conversation. “But do you really think …?”
“It better,” Tim answered before Daniel could finish. “Somebody already tried to steal our game once. And with it now being almost three fourths finished, we’d be stupid to think they’re not going to try again.”
Daniel and Paul nodded their agreement as a resounding BOOM, not unlike a nuclear bomb exploding, echoed from all directions in dramatic 7.1 surround sound.
The moment Daniel’s light blue, plaster walls stopped vibrating, Paul smiled, and the game’s Main Menu appeared before them.
“Okay, Daniel,” he said in an authoritarian tone. “Let’s execute the Kryptonite Module.”
Within milliseconds of the moment Daniel selected the Skull and Cross-bones icon; a high pitch whined blared so astoundingly loud; it seriously threatened to burst their eardrums.
“Power Down! Power Down!” Tim and Paul shouted at the top of their lungs while Daniel reached for his computer’s Power Off Button.
However, before Daniel could reach over and flip the switch, a bright blue screen of death, not unlike what used to appear in Windows XP, flashed in front of their eyes - just moments before the flat panel turned completely black.
“Ah, Paul,” Daniel said, hitting his desktop’s Reset button before twisting around so he could face his friends. “I don’t believe we’ve got this set up right.”
Both Tim and Paul stared at Daniel while displaying a grimace and then Paul tilted his chair back and presented Daniel an overly sarcastic grin. “No kidding, Sherlock,” he retorted as Tim chuckled. “And exactly how long did it take you to figure that one out – a couple of hours?”
“About a couple hundred microseconds,” Daniel stated, not catching the sarcasm. He then picked up the half-empty soda sitting on his desk just to his left and took a long sip.
“So what are we going to do now?” Tim asked as Daniel flipped his desktop’s power switch on. “This obviously isn’t working as planned.”
“Do you think getting a few of the smarter programmers in our computer club involved in the development of this module might help?” Daniel asked a couple of minutes later. “I’m sure Cathy and Richard would be interested.”
Tim grunted, and Paul gazed toward the ceiling.
“Maybe,” Paul slowly acknowledged. “But if we're going to let them work on this particular module, what would be the best way to do it? There’s no way we want to utilize the Office Skill computers since they’ve been broken into once this semester.”
“True,” Tim concurred before grabbing the orange, six-inch nerf basketball from off the bed next to him and tossing it towards Daniel’s hoop. “Ah, two points. ... I always knew I was good. … So what do you guys think about everyone working from home and storing Plutonium’s Revenge’s files on a data cloud like the one Amazon offers?”
Paul looked at Tim, and his eyebrow lifted as if he was puzzled. “Amazon’s offering a cloud-based data-storage service?”
“Yeah. That’s old news. Don’t you keep up with Tech stuff like that?” Tim said, giving his friend a look as if pink and purple polka dots suddenly materialized on his face. “They offer five Gigs worth absolutely free. And if that’s not enough, they’re currently running a special where if you buy an MP3 album from them, they’ll give you a free upgrade to twenty Gigs.”
“Oh really?” Paul displayed a half smile before turning to glance in Daniel’s direction. “That might work … at least temporarily.”
“Temporarily?” Daniel repeated as the desktop went into screensaver mode and began to display a galaxy class starship zooming through an ever-changing star field. “Why couldn’t we use it permanently?”
“We could,” Paul replied, starting to display a sinister grin. “However, in doing so, I wouldn’t be able to accomplish my goal. … In order to do that, we’re going to need to set up an official Gibsonville School Computer Club website.”
Tim shook his head in disagreement. “No. I don’t think it would work, Paul. … While it would provide a common area for us to communicate and share files, whoever it is that’s trying to steal our game would soon discover the site and try to hack it.”
“Yep. You’re absolutely correct, Tim” Paul replied, releasing a sinister laugh. “And that’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
Tim looked at his friend as if he had gone bonkers. “Now wait a minute Paul. Did I just hear you right? You want to set up a website so our software thief can find it and hack it? … Are you crazy or something?”
“Nope,” Paul nodded. “We’re going to teach Krypton Software a valuable lesson?”
“Krypton Software?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Who are they and how do you know they’re the ones trying to steal our game?”
“Krypton Software is Titan’s Industries biggest competitor,” Tim answered before Paul had a chance to reply. “And not only have I overheard my dad mention their name multiple times; he's ranted a good many times about how the company has tried to steal nearly completed games from them on umpteen occasions.”
“Oh really?” Paul said, sitting up a bit more upward. “So your Dad’s employer hasn’t been able to stop them?”
Tim looked at his friend and shook his head. “No. Not yet. Even though they’ve tried, they haven’t been able to successfully catch them in the act. So the only thing the company’s been able to do is file a Patent-infringement lawsuit each time Krypton releases a “copycat” game – and years later, when the suit’s finally heard in court, the judicial settlement given is way too late to be effective.”
“I see,” Paul said with a nod.
“So if Titan Industries hasn’t been able to stop them, how in the world are we gonna be able to do it?” Daniel asked, grabbing his wireless mouse.
Paul jumped onto his feet and headed over to Daniel’s bookcase. He then pulled out a Bible and opened it to the book of Matthew, chapter 7, verse 12.
“Gentlemen,” he began, becoming abnormally serious. “I believe it’s time for us to complete ‘The Golden Rule Trojan’.”