The World's Game

by Jacobo Izquierdo

  As a sports lover, Josef went for a run around the city from time to time. Despite cold, he enjoyed the sight of the illuminated streets of Albuquerque. « In five minutes, I won’t be cold anymore,» he thought every day before leaving home. He had been obsessed with the idea of keeping fit for years. He did not want him to happen as his father, who started to gain weight uncontrollably after thirty. That afternoon, after having run several kilometers, he crossed the street without paying much attention to the circulating traffic. He was distracted by the music on his earphones. A blue Dodge automatically stopped at a few centimeters from his body. Josef froze, blinded by the lights. The owner, a man of around ninety years old, opened the door and got out of the car, soaking wet with coffee.

  “HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” He shouted waving around and pointing to his smart stained suit. “You’re reckless!”

  The vehicle started to emit the sound of a bell along with a female voice that repeated restlessly: open door, non-authorized area to get out of the vehicle.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” apologized Josef recovering from such a fright. “I thought no car was coming and I didn’t look.”

  Open door, non-authorized area to get out of the vehicle. The phrase was repeated every five seconds.

  “I’m soaked,” the driver said wiping the drops of coffee away with a fabric handkerchief. “Although cars are prepared to avoid accidents, on some occasions such systems can fail. They are machines after all,” he added raising his voice.

  Josef nodded, trying not to let the sermon become too long. Some cars started to stop behind the Dodge. The man went near Josef and looked closer at him. His greenish eyes became wet and a tiny tear slipped down his cheek in a fraction of a second.

  “Is there something wrong, sir?” He asked, worried for such a strange reaction.

  “Your face…” he added almost unable to talk.

  “What?” The librarian got closer the car window to see if there was something unusual with it. The passenger who was on the car behind the Dodge rolled down the window and made a quick gesture with his hand palm so that they moved from the middle of the road.

  “Nothing,” the driver answered. “It must be a mere coincidence, but you look quite alike to a boy I met long time ago.”

  “What was his name?” He asked raising his face from the crystal and looking him in the eyes.

  “Josef,” he answered visibly moved. “I doubt it’s you. I’ve been told that boy moved to California.”

  The librarian winced and, despite the cold, he started to sweat. His dreadful eidetic memory impeded him from remembering that white-haired man and cloudy beard.

  “That’s my name, but I don’t remember having ever seen you.”

  “Mike Rogers’ grandson?” The man asked quickly.

  Josef nodded. The old man got closer to him and hugged him tightly. The youth, unaffected, did not understand the reason for such an effusive attack against his intimacy. Whoever that man was, he knew him, and judging by his impulsive hug, he also appreciated him.

  Some of the passengers of the vehicles that were waiting behind the Dodge, started to demand, now with a more hostile tone, that they move away from the road.

  “You still don’t know who I am, do you?”

  Josef nodded.

  “You’re shaking,” the old man said resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “Where do you know my grandfather from?”

  “Get into the car. I’ll take you home,” he ordered him kindly. “I’ll explain it to you on the way.”

  The cold night was stronger that Josef’s innate distrust against strangers. He opened the door and, after picking a copy of Don Quixote from the seat, he sat down. Inside, the vehicle was outrageously designed. The front windscreen served as a television. Under it, there was a three-self bookcase packed with books. On it, there was a small coffee maker and a toaster. In between the seats, a tactile screen controlled the light, the temperature, the volume and even the smell inside the car. The side windows reproduced images of Caribbean landscapes all the time.

  “Where shall I leave it?” Josef asked as he held the book in his hands.

  The old man took the book and placed it very carefully on one of the shelves. Then, he raised the temperature to twenty eight degrees and selected a pine fragrance to dissimulate the smell of coffee on his suit.

  The female voice in charge of driving the vehicle started talking.

  Doors closed. Two passengers on the vehicle. Fasten your seat belts to continue.

  Both of them obeyed the machine.

  Seat belts correctly fastened. Would you like to continue on the same way or do you prefer to change your destination?

  The old man asked Josef to say his address. He did it aloud and the vehicle started to move.

  Approximate time for destination: three minutes. Outside temperature: two degrees. Mr. Henry, would you like a cup of hot coffee?

  At hearing the voice in the vehicle naming the strange man, the youth turned his head and restarted the search in his memory.

  «Henry, friend of my grandpa,» he thought. Suddenly, in some part of his childhood memories, he spotted what he so willingly was looking for. A feeling of joy and nostalgia seized his body completely. Mouth and throat tried in vain to generate saliva. His heart beats soared. His hands started sweating uncontrollably. A slight nervous tic made him move his legs without control.

  “Is everything all right?” The old man asked, ignoring the question asked by the switchboard. “You look nervous.”

  “Is that you, Henry?” Josef asked in a trembling voice.

  The old man nodded, smiling. The young librarian had just discovered who that white-haired man with a cloudy beard was.

  “It’s you…” he added full of joy. He had just met his grandfather’s best friend. “…it’s been so long. You haven’t changed at all.”

  “You’ve grown a lot,” the old man said visibly touched. “I still remember the long walks along the shores of the Stream of the Bear. It’s been a long time since last time we last saw each other.”

  Josef felt a deep sorrow about their separation. To be able to overcome his grandfather’s death, he had had to erase, or hide, some childhood memories from his mind. His body had created a shield of protection that prevented him from expressing his feelings naturally. That encounter after so many years, had managed to break it.

  Some tears started to fall from his collapsed eyes. He tried in vain to control that spontaneous demonstration of affection. Maybe it was not the right moment to let the feelings he had restrained for so long burst, but he could not help sobbing.

  “I’ve been told you were living in California,” Henry said offering him a handkerchief.

  “I lived there for a short time,” he answered after wiping out his tears.

  “I’d like us to see each other again and talk calmly. What do you think?”

  “That’d be extraordinary,” Josef answered smiling slightly. “I need you to tell me so many things…”

  The old man took a small piece of paper and wrote his telephone number and his address on it.

  “You can come to see me whenever you want,” he said giving the paper to Josef.

  You have reached your destination. Do you want to stop the car?

  “No. See you soon,” he concluded.

  Chapter 9

  Sinz Palace’s interior had been designed consciously by engineers from Yewut. Its construction began several millions of years before Cabolun was born. Despite the signed pact, the fear of being attacked again was still present in the midarian society. None of the four survivors of the battle of the cowards could ever forget the terrible scenery they found when they came back. The main reason for such complex architecture was to guarantee the heir’s safety.

  A framework of galleries and tunnels was hidden behind what they seemed to be simple walls. Most of the rooms had two visible doors and two hidden ones, known by few selected ones.

  Since the mome
nt he was born, Cabolun started to learn each of the thousands of secrets Sinz hid. In order to make his son’s learning easier, Yewut designed several gams to accelerate the process. Having been each of them placed in a different part of the Palace, Cabolun had to arrive as soon as possible to the place his father had set. This simple way, it did not take him long to domain such a complex structure.

  Palac was wandering disoriented inside Sinz. His father had indicated him telepathically to meet him at the meeting room. In contrast to him, Palac had not received instructions on how to move around that labyrinth. «I think I’ve already been here.» When he was about to ask him to be rescued from that entanglement, the wall on his left disappeared and a pair of strong arms dragged him inside.

  The novice midarian fell to the floor without knowing what had happened.

  “I’ve seen you were a bit lost and I’ve decided to go for you,” Cabolun said breaking the silence in the room.

  It was one of the hugest rooms in the Palace. The roof was transparent to let the galaxy be seen during the endless debates, which sometimes lasted for months. A structure of stone seats formed a stepped pyramid of a hundred levels to the top of the room. The summit was formed by four seats made of solid gold. There were four more seats on each level. This way, the second level had sixteen seats, the third one sixty-four and so on until completing the pyramid’s hundred steps. The most elderly sat on the upper levels, while the youngest did it on the lower ones, following a perfectly classified hierarchy based on respect.

  The structure had been designed so as all the attendants could see and hear all the midarians on the upper part from anywhere on the pyramid. In the past, this room was frequently used to debate different issues relevant for the planet. Nowadays, it had fallen in disuse due to Cabolun’s dictatorial attitude.

  “I didn’t know that door existed,” Palac said pointing to the place where he had entered.

  “What door?” Cabolun asked showing an unnatural reaction of surprise.

  The young midarian observed in astonishment how the gate had disappeared. In its place, there was a uniform and unwavering wall.

  “What’s happened?” He asked with wide open eyes.

  “It’s not important. Follow me!”

  The leader started to go up an endless stair that reached the highest level. At a short distance, Palac observed the gigantic structure, trying to imagine the amount of attendants that could accommodate on it. Finally, they reached the highest part and Cabolun sat on one of the seats. He sat on the only seat that was free since some stone boards were resting on the others.

  “These boards…” Cabolun said pointing to them. “…they were engraved by your grandfather. On them they are explained the steps to follow in the game in case he died.”

  Palac stood up and started to examine them.

  “Some are better preserved than others. This one, for example, seems as if it had been just made,” he said pointing to it.

  “These engravings were made thousands of years ago!” He exclaimed tenser than usual.

  “It was just an appraisal.”

  “Maybe it’s because the place where some of them are kept allows a better preservation.” The explanation was senseless since all of them were kept in the same place. But Palac did not know that.

  “Probably that’s the reason.”

  “I brought you here for you to read them, not for you to assess their preservation.”

  They were limestone boards and some puzzling instructions were written on them with a reddish pigment.

  The novice took the first one and started reading it.

  In order to guarantee the safety of Racot satellite, it will be necessary to build a military base. In case of receiving the visit from an intruder, the force with be used only as a defensive action.

  He finished reading the first board and picked the second one.

  The crafts of the military base will only be used to ensure security in Racot. The most skillful and stealth pilots will be in charge of such function. It is important that they are never discovered.

  He left the second one on its place and took the third one quickly. Before starting reading, he realized that the pigment of some letters was still wet.

  In order to control overpopulation in Racot, you should introduce new diseases from time to time.

  The fourth one had a more worn out and older appearance than the previous one.

  During my stay in Racot, I will be in permanent touch with locals so that they help me to fulfill my mission. All of them will be protected by the zac so that they can document my message.

  The fifth one was even more frayed than the previous one…

  Wiros lakes will serve as means of communication with Racot. Never reveal Wiros’ spot to anybody.

  Cabolun looked with satisfaction how his son picked the following. He had waited for a long time, trying to find the best possible moment to show him those stone boards.

  My death will drastically stop technological evolution in Racot. In order to prevent the planet from stopping its evolutionary progress, modify some of the parameters in the zac so that an aleatory niolar is turned into a piromeiso from time to time.

  Piromeisos are Racots with a higher intellectual level. They are in charge of discovering medical, technological and social advances, necessary for the progress of civilization. Physically, they are identical to an ordinary racot. But, without being aware of that, they have the gift of temporal immortality. Each of them has a specific mission on the planet. The zac is in charge of such mission to be carried out. Once the mission has been accomplished, they lose their protection.

  The seventh board… Palac began to get bored.

  Protect the transport cabins installed in Racot so that no one can destroy them.

  The eighth one…

  Despite the mistakes derived from the implantation of the chips, don’t modify the parameters of the zac.

  All racots had a nanochip installed inside their brain to store memories and circumstances occurred during the carrier’s life. It also offers a detailed description of each individual.

  The ninth board was slightly larger than the rest and it contained much more information than the others.

  The mistakes derived from the chips will be corrected to guarantee racots’ wellbeing. The detected failures are as follows:

  Niolar failure 1. When an inhabitant of Racot dies, he appears immediately in Wiros along with his niolar. On some occasions, the zac duplicates such niolar by mistake and it uses it again in a new body. Such failure provokes the new racot to have memories of another being stored in his memory.

  Niolar failure 2. On some occasions, when an inhabitant of Racot dies, his body and niolar do not appear in Wiros. Unexplainably, they remain trapped in a second dimension. Some Piromeians are capable of communicating with them and they help them find the way to get to Wiros. But not always is like that.

  Niolar failure 3. On some occasions, the zac generates defective Niolarians with a very reduced memory. A few months later, when this capacity is completed, the racot dies immediately after.

  “The tenth at last!” Palac exclaimed breaking the silence hegemony. “The preservation state of this board and the third one are astonishing,” he added.

  Cabolun stood up from his seat and grabbed the board from his hands.

  “I’m going to read this last one.”

  If during my stay on Racot I succumb, I want life there to be unbearable. Use the resources provided by the zac to obey this order.

  A sepulchral silence invaded the room. The midarian leader stared at his son trying to find some kind of reaction.

  “Everything is so contradictory,” he said trying to make sense to those boards.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t understand why some boards intend to create a general state of wellbeing and others quite the opposite.”

  “Your grandfather’s mind could be obscure at times.”

  “It’s the f
irst time I hear such an obscure comment about grandpa.”

  “As your father; I’ve got to inform you about our history,” Cabolun said raising his voice. “You have to know that your grandfather was a negligible and monstrous being.” He said full of hate.

  “I’d appreciate that you tell me the truth which, maybe, some people hide from me in order to protect him.”

  “My leadership in Mida may result very much questioned and criticized, but thanks to that, our civilization is an entire example or order and fidelity.”

  “I know…” Palac said remembering with sorrow the feeling of hate that several midarians showed him.

  “Come on!” I want to show you how the commands are executed from the zac.”

  Chapter 10

  Josef was walking along the university corridors towards his literary fortress. In front of a noticeboard, some teenagers were talking lively. Margaret was part of such a joyful group. The librarian raised his eyes and noticed her presence. Trying to avoid any kind of contact, he stepped up in order to get out from the golden haired girl’s visual field. When he thought he had managed to go unnoticed, the girl stood in his way.

  “Hi,” she said joyfully.

  Josef blushed. From all the possibilities he had imagined to solve that situation, the worst of them had happened. There he was: surrounded by students, most of them seven or eight years younger than him, watching his reaction.

  “He…” he said nervously “…hello.”

  Some of the students laughed at his slight stutter and hid. Margaret looked at them in disapproval.

  “We’ve organized a party at my friend Betty’s house tonight,” she said pointing to her. Her face had been ill-treated and blurred by acne. “Would you like to come?”

  In the past, the young librarian had been to dozens of that kind of parties. Under normal circumstances, his answer would have been negative, but the pressure he felt from the group of teenagers influenced on his unfortunate decision.