The Last Book in the Universe by Rodman Philbrick Page A

my way back, even if we did manage to escape.
    As it turns out, we hear Mongo before we see him. A loud voice booms through the passageway: “HEAR MONGO AND OBEY … HEAR MONGO AND OBEY …,” over and over, like an old 3D stuck on replay.
    Which, as it turns out, is pretty close to the truth.
    When we get closer to the booming voice, lights begin to glow, reflecting off the walls. Then at last we turn the corner and there he is.
    â€œTo your knees!” the tek boss shouts, shoving us down with his stunstik. “Pay homage to Mongo the Magnificent! Hear him and obey!”
    We drop to our knees and look up at Mongo. He’s a fierce, powerful-looking latchboss with bright, blazing eyes, huge, muscular arms, shoulder-length hair the color of midnight, and a snarling, blood-red monkey tattooed on his enormous chest. He thumps the tattoo with his fists and goes, “HEAR MONGO AND OBEY … HEAR MONGO AND OBEY.”
    It’s crazy, but I almost laugh out loud. Mongo the Magnificent is nothing more than a hologram. A short loop from a 3D, repeating over and over again. It wouldn’t fool a two-year-old kid, and it doesn’t fool me.
    Ryter murmurs, “I’m going to try something. Whatever you do, don’t interfere.”
    Before I can stop him, the old gummy stands up slowly, leaning on his stick.
    â€œOn your knees!” the tek boss commands. “Homage to Mongo!”
    All the weapons aim at Ryter. It’s hard to tell with the masks they wear, but the teks look nervous, uncertain.
    â€œYou must take us to the real Mongo!” Ryter tells them, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the repeating hologram.
    â€œKnees!” cries the tek boss. “Homage!” But he sounds uncertain.
    â€œDoes Mongo live?” Ryter demands.
    â€œMongo lives,” says the tek boss. He sounds puzzled, as if he’s not quite sure why he’s talking to the old gummy instead of canceling him.
    Ryter walks up to the tek boss. I’m sure he’s about to die, but the tek boss doesn’t move. “Take off the mask,” Ryter suggests. “Let me see your face.”
    Much to my amazement, the tek boss takes off his armored security mask. Under the mask he’s just another young guy with a round face and worried eyes, and he’s looking at Ryter like he can’t decide, should he listen to the old man or cut his red.
    â€œYou must take us to Mongo,” Ryter tells him. “Maybe we can help.”
    The tek boss hesitates, and his face gets all wrenched up like he’s in pain. “I don’t have the authority.”
    â€œDoes anyone have the authority?” Ryter gently asks. “No? I thought not. Think about it, son. What would Mongo want you to do?”
    â€œHear him and obey,” the tek boss responds instantly.
    â€œYes, of course,” Ryter says patiently. “And you’ve done a splendid job of obeying him, under very difficult circumstances. Keeping your squad together, defending the fort, and so on. But now you must do more. You must help Mongo. Take us to him.”
    â€œI-I-I’m afraid,” the tek boss stammers.
    â€œWe’re all afraid,” Ryter says soothingly. “If the situation continues, the fort will be overwhelmed and you’ll all be destroyed. I think you know that. Something must be done.”
    The tek boss speaks uneasily, as if afraid of being overheard. “What you say is true. But what would you have us do?”
    â€œLet’s start with trying to help Mongo, shall we?” Ryter suggests.
    The poor tek boss looks like he’s being tortured, but finally he nods and goes, “Follow me. But if we all die, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    â€œWarning acknowledged,” Ryter says. “Now proceed.”
    It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed: an old gummy — an intruder into the latch — persuading a tek