DC: HEY I finally got into the Imperial Palace Gardens and got a ton more clues, all just more numbers . . . EXCEPT
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ANDY
RANDOM NUMBERS DANCED in Andy’s vision. He saw them in his dreams, and they didn’t disappear when he woke up. He saw them while he brushed his teeth, he saw them while he ate his tamagoyaki for breakfast at the hotel, and he saw them in the taxi with Mom and Mika. Now, he even saw them as he sat in a dark arena, waiting for the next fencing match to begin. 38. 321. 207. 96. Team MADR had collected hundreds of them, and all the app did was sort them into a vertical line that just grew longer and longer and, to Andy, still had no meaning at all.
But they had to mean something. This was Andy’s last chance at figuring out once and for all who was behind OlympiFan and winning the beta tester spots. He tried to distract himself by thinking about the two hints Emma and Tyler had posted instead. A butterfly and a UK flag. The flag could mean the athlete was from the UK, or it could mean they competed in the Summer Games in London. As for the butterfly, Devon had spent some of their points on Paola Mazzanti’s video in the Gallery, while Riley had read dozens of interviews with the cyclist. They couldn’t find anything indicating she might have designed OlympiFan. But Linda McDouglas was British and Chiang Li had competed in London in 2012, so they were still at the top of Andy’s list.
“This is so cool,” Mika said, half standing out of her seat. They were in the first row near the center of the long, white strip that Mom said was called a piste. The ground was marked off with lines and illuminated with blue and pink lights like something out of a sci-fi movie. On either end, two women stood just in the shadows, wearing white jackets, pants, and gloves, and holding a mask and a saber.
“It is!” Wesley agreed. He and Hana were seated next to Andy and Mika. Wesley stood too, holding up his phone and taking a picture of the piste.
“Hey, you found your phone!” Mika said as Wesley sat back down. “Where was it?”
“Emi found it in the kitchen at Chef Abe’s restaurant,” Wesley told her, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe it.”
“I can,” Hana said dryly. “We did take a tour of the kitchen, after all. And you have a bad habit of leaving your phone lying around.”
“I didn’t put it down next to the stove.” Wesley let out a huffy sigh. “Seriously. You don’t think I’m that careless, do you?”
Andy and Mika laughed as Hana gave Wesley a look that clearly said she thought he was exactly that: careless.
Andy heard the announcer introduce the fencers—one from Italy, the other from Russia—but then he zoned out again, picturing numbers stacked on top of one another. If only there were a pattern to figure out! Like the Fibonacci sequence, where each number was the sum of the previous two. Or if they were all prime numbers, or if each were squared or cubed or . . .
Andy sighed, rubbing his eyes. There was a pattern, but it was the simplest one: numerical order. When he found the clue 135, the app slotted it between 132 and 138. And when he found 133, it was slotted between 132 and 135. He had no doubt that 134 was out there somewhere, and if his team found it, it would slot before 135. So far, Riley had found the highest number—321. How many clues were out there? Andy imagined collecting thousands of them, a ridiculously long line of numbers counting up and hinting at nothing.
No one would ever find the Gold medal, and the Masked Medalist’s identity would remain a secret. Maybe it would be a secret forever, seeing as they had deleted all of their Instagram posts. Andy fidgeted in his seat. Why had the Masked Medalist done that? Was it supposed to be a part of the game, another hint?
He felt his phone vibrate with a text and pulled it out of his pocket.
DP: @
DP: !!!
Glancing around, Andy held his breath as he responded.
AK: ???
DP: @
DP: That was the clue! Instead of a number! Must mean something, right? It’s the only symbol we’ve found!
AK: Where does the app sort it in the line?
DP: Between 242 and 255
AK: Ok
AK: Definitely means something
DP: BUT WHAT???
Andy frowned, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Nine minutes on the clock,” Wesley said suddenly, pointing to a digital clock at the end of the piste. “You know, I’ve never actually been to a fencing match before?”
“Really? I think this is one of the most exciting sports to watch in person,” Hana replied. “It’s a duel, but so graceful—sometimes I feel like I’m watching two people dancing, not fighting.”
“What are the rules?” Mika asked, leaning forward.
“The match lasts for three bouts, three minutes each,” Hana explained. “Or until one competitor scores fifteen points—a point for every touch they land on their opponent.”
“What if time’s up and they’re tied?” Wesley asked.
“A minute is added to the clock, and the first to score wins.”
“Even if it doesn’t add up to fifteen?”
Andy scrunched his nose. An idea was trying to form in his mind . . . But then the athletes were taking their places on opposite ends of the piste, and whatever realization Andy had been about to make vanished. A hush fell over the crowd as the match began.
For the next eight minutes, Andy forgot all about OlympiFan and the Masked Medalist. Two competitors, dressed all in white with mesh masks hiding their faces, took their places under the lights. At the signal, their silver sabers flashed as they darted back and forth on the piste in what looked like part duel, part choreographed dance—it really was like something out of a movie, only way cooler.
As the clock counted down the last thirty seconds with both athletes at thirteen points, the entire crowd seemed to hold its collective breath. Andy watched, mesmerized, as the competitors moved even faster, swiping, lunging, and dodging one another’s blows—
Bing! A chime sounded, and both athletes, breathing heavily, dropped their arms and walked back to the opposite ends of the piste.
“Thirteen-thirteen,” Wesley said, his voice rising over the crowd’s excited chatter. “And there’s the extra minute on the clock. So forget about fifteen total—whoever gets the next point wins, right?”
Hana rubbed her hands together gleefully. “That’s right. Sudden death.”
Andy sat very still, because there it was again—the answer to the numbers puzzle was trying to form in his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. He watched as the two athletes got into their starting positions once again.
Bing!
Both darted forward, their moves faster than ever, almost desperate as the seconds counted down. Mika squeezed Andy’s arm hard, but he was too captivated by the match to pull away.
It happened so quickly that Andy barely saw it: the Italian fencer’s saber slipped past the Russian athlete’s attempt to block it, swiping her ribs. A buzzer sounded, and the crowd erupted into cheers as the Italian athlete pulled off her mask. She was covered in sweat, damp hair sticking to her forehead, and a huge smile stretched across her cheeks as she shook her opponent’s hand. Hana let out another one of her piercing whistles, and Mika giggled as Wesley clamped his hands over her ears.
But Andy was staring at the scoreboard, which read 14–13. Forget about fifteen total, Wesley had said. In sudden death, the number fifteen didn’t matter—it just came down to who scored the last point. Maybe the exact highest number didn’t matter in the clues for the Gold medal, either.
“Ooh.” The word escaped Andy’s lips as the applause around him grew louder. Mika turned as he whipped out his phone again.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, watching as he opened OlympiFan to look at their team’s collection of clues. It was just as Devon had described:
278
261
255
@
242
239
226
“An at symbol?” Mika said, leaning in closer. “Whoa, that’s new.”
“Devon found it.” Andy looked at his sister, thinking hard. “It’s between two forty-two and two fifty-five.”
“Okay. What does that mean?”
Andy drummed his fingers on his knee. “Our team has almost two hundred seventy clues—all numbers except for the at symbol. And the highest number is three twenty-one.”
“Right . . .”
“Whatever the highest number clue out there is, it can’t be that much higher than the one we found,” Andy said, speaking faster now. “Think about it—we found two hundred seventy random numbers, all under three twenty-one. If the clues went up to a thousand, or even higher, odds are we would’ve found at least a few much higher numbers, right? It’s probability! The more clues we collected, the closer we got to the highest number.”
“So you think three twenty-one is the highest number?”
“It’s probably not the exact highest number, but I bet it’s close.” Andy closed OlympiFan and opened his browser. “We don’t need the highest number to solve this. What are some of the tallest structures in Tokyo?”
He typed in the words as he said them, tilting his phone so that Mika could see the screen and tapping on the first result. Andy recognized the building immediately.
“The Skytree!” Mika said excitedly. “It’s six hundred thirty-four meters tall.”
“Okay . . .” Andy scrolled down his screen, stopping on another familiar image—a structure that looked like a red-and-white Eiffel Tower. “Tokyo Tower. And it’s . . .” Andy paused. “It’s three hundred thirty-three meters tall.”
Mika exhaled. “Okay. What about the at symbol?”
“There’s an observation deck that’s two hundred fifty meters high,” Andy read off the screen. “Mika—I think that’s what the at symbol means! The medal is at two hundred fifty meters! It’s on the observation deck!”
Andy and Mika stared at one another for a second. Then they both shot out of their seats at the same time.
“Mom?!”
Nearly half an hour later, Dad met Andy and Mika outside of the stadium.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Mika cried as he flagged down a taxi. “It’s too far for us to go by ourselves, and Mom had to stay and work, and we know you’re working, too, but we—”
“It’s fine,” Dad said, laughing at Mika’s ramble. The taxi door opened and Dad gestured for them to get in. “I needed a break from writing anyway. And I want to be there when you guys win this thing!”
Andy’s pulse quickened at the thought. He fastened his seat belt, then checked OlympiFan for the dozenth time in the last few minutes. “We both got in line in VR mode,” he told Dad. “So did Devon and Riley, but it’s after midnight in LA. They probably won’t be able to stay up long enough to—”
Waving his hands, Dad chuckled again. “Honestly, this is better. After all, it was on our list of things to do!”
The drive took an excruciating twenty minutes. Andy kept refreshing OlympiFan, and he felt a surge of panic when he saw TilerMyths among the list of VR players in line. If Tyler knew where the Gold medal was, then so did Emma. What if she got there first?
“I hope there isn’t a line for tickets,” Mika said.
Dad turned around to face them. “It’s a pretty popular tourist attraction, so chances are it’s going to be busy.”
Andy groaned.
“Which is why,” Dad continued with a grin, “I already bought our tickets online.”
“Yesss!” Andy and Mika exclaimed together. “Thanks, Dad!” Andy added.
“Whoops.” Mika examined her shirt, frowning. “One of my pins fell off.”
Andy looked down at the floor and spotted a glint of gold. “Is that it?”
“Yes!” Mika picked it up. “Oh, the butterfly. My favorite.”
“Butterfly?” Andy repeated loudly. “Wait, who gave you that?”
“It’s one of the pins James gave me.” Mika’s mouth fell open. “The hint!”
She held the pin out, and Andy took a closer look at the two bright pink wings. “I think it’s a logo,” Andy said. “Dad, do you recognize it?”
Dad glanced at the pin in Mika’s palm. “Actually, yes! It’s a Japanese company called Butterfly—they make table tennis equipment. Your mom got one of their tote bags when she interviewed Chiang Li the other day. I believe they sponsor him.”
Chiang Li. Andy could tell Mika was thinking the same thing he was. But beneath his excitement, Andy felt a fresh surge of panic. Gavin Driscoll had told them that a lot of the other teams already suspected Chiang Li was the Masked Medalist. It definitely seemed like all signs pointed to him.
But Andy wanted to be absolutely positive. They had to get those Gold medal hints!
“Look, there it is!” Mika squealed, pointing. Andy leaned over to see through her window.
Tokyo Tower appeared as they neared the end of the block, although all Andy could see was the bright red metal base. But he knew that somewhere up there, the Gold medal waited.
In front of Tokyo Tower, Andy and Mika leapt from the taxi as soon as Dad had paid the driver. Andy glanced down the street and groaned.
“Mika, look!”
A little more than a block away, a group of people were charging down the sidewalk, whooping and yelling, all wearing neon wigs and waving miniature flags.
“Team SuperFan!” Mika cried, hopping up and down anxiously. “Dad, hurry!”
Andy and Mika raced to the entrance. Dad right behind them. Inside, Andy scanned the lobby and spotted the elevators, where there was a short line.
“Run!” Dad yelped.
Mika let out a wild giggle as Dad sprinted across the lobby. Andy couldn’t help but laugh too, especially when they reached the line and Dad doubled over, wheezing in an exaggerated way.
“Here they come,” Mika said as Team SuperFan charged into the lobby like a pack of bulls, Sabine in the lead. The elevator arrived and Andy crossed his fingers behind his back as the line shuffled forward. A woman in a pink blazer stood by the elevator, scanning tickets on each person’s phone before allowing them to enter. If Andy, Mika, and Dad could fit in this elevator, they’d get to the observation deck a few minutes before Team SuperFan. But if they had to share the next elevator . . .
“Yesss!” Mika cheered again when they managed to squeeze inside. Andy caught a glimpse of the rival team running toward them, but they were too late.
“Oops. Should we have waited for them?” Dad said teasingly as the doors slid closed.
“Noooo!” said Andy and Mika, both laughing. Andy’s heart was pounding with excitement. They had a head start—maybe they really could find the Gold first!
The ride up to the top took a few minutes, but it felt like hours. When the doors finally opened, Andy and Mika spilled out—and stumbled to a shocked halt.
Sunshine streamed into the circular atrium through the curved glass wall, and beyond that, Andy could see buildings spread out far below them. The view was incredible, but that wasn’t what had caught Andy and Mika’s attention.
Emma Botha stood a few feet away, her phone out as she scanned the atrium through her screen. When she spotted the Kudos, she lowered her phone, her mouth open in surprise. Andy’s brain felt jammed. She’d beaten them here—but she hadn’t found the Gold medal.
Yet.
Her lips twitched into a smile, and for some reason, Andy found himself smiling back. May the best player win, he thought.
“Wow—that view really is worth it!” Dad said cheerfully, oblivious to the staring contest happening right in front of him. “Sooo . . . where should we start—”
“This way!” Andy dashed off to the left, while Emma sprinted in the opposite direction. Dad jogged to keep up as Andy and Mika scoured the atrium through their screens, looking for any sign of a virtual medal.
When Andy spotted the elevators again, he tried to ignore a wave of frustration. The footprints at the bottom of his screen were still blue. But the medal had to be here. It had to.
“Wait, that isn’t the same elevator we came up in.” Mika said suddenly.
“It probably goes up to the other observation deck,” Dad said, and Andy and Mika stared at him.
“There’s two? I thought we were on the top already!”
Dad consulted the screen of his phone where their tickets were pulled up on his screen. “Yep. I bought tickets for both. This one is a hundred fifty meters high. The other one is a hundred meters higher.”
Andy and Mika looked at one another. Two hundred fifty meters.
“Hurry!” Andy ran toward the elevator with Mika and Dad.
“I have to admit, this game is pretty exciting!” Dad said breathlessly as he followed them, showing the woman their tickets on his phone.
Despite his nerves, Andy was smiling. It was exciting. This felt better than when they had been at the zoo. If Andy found the medal this time, it would be fair and not because they had a sneaky advantage over the other players. This was way more fun.
They hurried off the elevator, and Andy blinked in astonishment. This deck was smaller, but even more impressive, with shiny white floors, angled mirrors on the walls and ceiling, and cool purple lights below the windows. The view of the city from this high was dizzying, but Andy told himself there would be time to appreciate it after they won the Gold. He and Mika moved quickly, holding out their phones.
“Hurry!” Mika yelled, running around the corner. Andy followed her, summoning an extra burst of speed like a marathoner on the final lap, darting between a few tourists like a fencer dodging a blow. In front of him, Mika leapt over a bright pink backpack as nimbly as a hurdler. A little girl by the windows clapped her hands to her mouth in awe as they charged past. Andy glanced at his screen and let out a triumphant cry.
The footprints were gold.
“We’re close!” His hand shook slightly as he slowed, sweeping his phone from side to side. Behind him, he heard a ding! and glanced over his shoulder just as Emma and Team SuperFan spilled out of the elevator.Andy checked the floor, the ceiling, the windows . . . the footprints glowed pink, and he stumbled to a sudden halt, spinning on the spot. Something flickered on his screen, and for a split second, he thought it was the sun’s reflection. Then his mouth went dry.
The Gold medal hovered at eye level by the window against the backdrop of a clear blue sky.
Andy didn’t hesitate. He tapped the medal, and it zoomed toward him until his whole screen was a brilliant gold. A moment later, confetti exploded, revealing a message that shimmered and sparkled.
Found by AndyK (AR)
Congratulations to the Gold Medalists:
TEAM MADR!!!
Exhaling, Andy felt a grin spread across his face. He heard Mika squeal, and then came distant groans and cries of dismay from Team SuperFan.
“What’s going on?” Dad asked.
Andy turned around just as Mika threw her arms around him. “We did it!” she hollered, squeezing him so hard he yelped. “Oh, sorry!”
She pulled away, beaming, and Andy beamed back. Then he spotted Emma a few feet away, rubbing a stitch in her side and trying to catch her breath. She flashed him another little smile.
“You found it! Congrats!”
“Thanks.” Andy still couldn’t believe it. He looked at his phone, where a new message waited.
Choose one!
750 points + 2 hints
1,000 points + 1 hint
Team MADR had been in total agreement about this choice. The only way to win the grand prize—to become beta testers—was to correctly guess the Masked Medalist’s identity. And to do that, they’d need all the hints they could get. Andy selected the first option, and the message closed.
“Let’s see those hints!” Mika cried eagerly, swiping her screen. “Ooh, there’s the medal!”
Andy could see it on his screen, too—a shiny Gold medal at the top right under Team MADR.
“Just tap the medal and you’ll see your hints,” Emma said, hanging back. “Don’t worry, I won’t look!”
Andy looked at her, wondering if he should share their hints with her and Tyler. After all, Team Cryptic shared their hints with all the other players.
“Numbers,” Mika said, eyes shining as she looked up from her screen. “And Emma’s hints were pictures. Team SuperFan’s hint was probably a sound clip.”
Quickly, Andy tapped the Gold medal, and he saw what Mika meant.
2012
2
Andy grinned. Four hints. They were going to figure out who the Masked Medalist was and become beta testers and work with an actual Olympic athlete. He couldn’t believe it.
“Any idea what it means?” Dad asked. “Maybe they competed in the 2012 Olympics?” His phone suddenly rang, and he glanced at the screen. “Ah, it’s Emi—I need to take this. I’ll be right over there, okay?”
“Okay!” As Dad walked over to a quiet spot near the windows, Andy turned to Mika. “Chiang Li competed in 2012, but the number two . . . two medals, maybe? We have to research! Do you think Devon and Riley are still awake?”
“I was just checking the chat room!” Mika did a little happy dance. But a moment later, she fell still. “Uh . . . this is weird.”
“What?”
“There’s a new message in the chat room . . . from me. But I didn’t type it.”
“What?” Andy opened the chat room to see for himself. Mika held out her phone to Emma, who moved closer.
Mika: Thanks for the hints!
“That’s the cheater!” Emma said in a low voice. “That looks just like the message they left when my account was hacked!”
Mika looked dumbstruck. “It just popped up a few seconds ago. So this person was in my account?”
She looked from Andy to Emma. Then the three of them turned to look at where a few of the Team SuperFan players were staring glumly at their phones. Sabine pulled off her aqua wig, her blond hair sticking up from static electricity.
“They won the Silver,” Emma said quietly. “And whoever’s trying to cheat saw the hints from the Bronze and the Gold.”
Andy knew what she was thinking. The hacker might be standing just a few feet away. And they could have all the hints.
SCOREBOARD - TOP TEN |
|||
|
1st |
|
MADR |
1,437 |
|
2nd |
|
SuperFan |
1,351 |
|
3rd |
|
Cryptic |
866 |
|
4th |
TheOracles |
578 |
|
|
5th |
野心 |
566 |
|
|
6th |
MysticMice |
552 |
|
|
7th |
베스트 |
549 |
|
|
8th |
ALLEYOOP |
547 |
|
|
9th |
Rabenklaue |
542 |
|
|
10th |
DragonFlame |
540 |
|