by Buffy Brown
The Wheel of Fortune turns back to normal, and summer shines through again. Real summer, artificial-free. The sun warms my wet face from the rain. Even Dame Fortune has a single tear rolling down her ugly cheeks.
Imagine all of the Teen-Genes, the Nines, the Eights, and even the Sevens, watching this precious moment belonging to Pepper, in her honor. It doesn’t matter that the boy is a Five, bad-looking, or low-status according to the shallow rules of Faya. All that matters are the precious, ethereal emotions of this moment.
Whatever Timmy and the Summit will do to the boy, they can never erase this incident from the mind of the public, or from the books of history — I hope they won’t change Pepper’s name to Zepper. But if they do alter the truth in history books, how will they erase it from every ranked young girl’s memory, heart, and soul? One day, they will be grandmas, and they will tell it to their children’s children.
“Did I ever tell you about the story of the boy who gave up his rank for the love of a Monster?”
Boy, this makes a better story than Cinderella.
The camera shows Prophet Xitler in distress, smoking his pipe, fidgeting on his throne impatiently. Timmy feels the tinge. He will crush the boy as punishment and revenge. I know it. It is the only way to keep his job. The only way the audience will not wake up tomorrow questioning the system.
“Well, I guess love carrots — I mean conquers all,” says Timmy sarcastically, biting on one of his carrots. “I say if you love a Monster that much, you might need to join her.”
We find out that the boy is already on his way to the Playa, having asked to join Pepper to tell her that he loves her. He had been watching the games from home. It will take him less than a minute to arrive in one of those speed planes provided by the Summit.
“To love a Monster, you must be a Monster,” says Timmy. The audience suddenly agrees, most of them. They have woken themselves up from the state of trance called love. “Our records show that this boy has bribed the interviewer into manipulating the iAm, and giving him a rank.”
I knew this would happen. Their system can’t be wrong. They will forge the boy’s history and claim he is bad to please the crowd. The screens show the boy’s worst moments, sleeping in the gutter, footage of him in fights, holding a knife in public. Of course, the fabrication makes sense to the audience. From where he comes from, the same as Pepper, he can be easily mistaken for an outlaw. The audience doesn’t question how the boy from the poor neighborhood got his hands on enough money to bribe anyone. How could the invincible iAm possibly be manipulated? Nah, they wouldn’t use their heads on this one. They’d prefer to stay in the dark.
Should I expose myself now? Should I tell them that I am the one who switched the iAms?
I was mistaken. The Summit doesn’t play God. It’s the iAm. The illusion and misconception that you can know all you need to know about humans by gathering their data.
I am not my heart rate. I am not my skills. I am not my sleeping problems. I am not my stress. I am not my fears. I am not how I look. I am the very essence of me. I am my will. I am my passion. I am my beliefs. I am how much I can give and receive love. I am infinite and possible. I am my soul. How can the iAm ever measure this?
Most important of all, I am not that predictable.
It is this moment when the idea fills my head. After two days as an outranked, I feel so strong. If you want to rank me, if you insist on ranking me, I will show you what ranking is about. I will not be a Five, a Six, a Seven, an Eight, or even a Nine. I will be human. I will become a Ten, which everyone in the Faya thinks is a myth because they are far from being human.
The boy’s name is Woodsy. Woodsy Brown. He is transported in a steel cage, rolled down from a plane into our battlefield.
Having left the net, standing on the asphalt on the streets, Pepper looks at me while we are waiting for Woodsy. She is mesmerized. She averts her eyes from me and looks at the boy standing in the middle of the street, holding a single red rose.
Six million viewers are watching Woodsy and Pepper. That’s better than a royal wedding. Who wants to watch a prince and a princess, when they have Monsters in love?
“Go to him.” I slap her on her butt like Ariadna used to do to me. “You’re being ridiculous. Run to him.”
All of us encourage her to, except Leo, who is Mr. Cool. He is brushing something out of his eyes.
“But look at me,” she says. “My clothes are all wet. I need to take care of my hair.”
I almost chuckle. “Since when do you even care?” I push her.
She walks slowly, as if she is walking a rope in a circus, tilting her head to the side. He stands rigid and indecisive. Should he walk toward her? This will be painfully slow. They keep taking one step after the other, until Pepper loses control and actually runs to him. He is finally encouraged and runs to her too, dropping the rose on the way, then stopping a couple of strides away, turning back to pick up the rose and run back to Pepper.
They run toward each other and collide with a kiss.
The audience is going out of their minds. Today’s movie program has been full of action, gore, scares, blood, and finally, some romance. Talk to me about movie blockbusters, and I’ll tell you that you haven’t seen anything yet.
Monster or no Monster, no one can resist love. Timmy pushes a button, unwillingly, sending roses down from the Artificial Sky — the roses are branded as a gift from Les Fleur Flowers. Timmy will do anything to have a successful show, anything for the viewers. Even Prophet Xitler is clapping now. As long as the system stays untouched, he doesn’t mind a little puppy love. Secretly, I know every girl wishes she was Pepper. Who would have thought?
I know one thing though: The Summit, Timmy, and Prophet Xitler will give us hell for this moment. At least, we are back again to ten survivors. Woodsy is our new member.
“What an awfully nice day in Dizny Battlefieldz,” Timmy mumbles. Although he’s jealous and irritated, the audience still loves him. “First a kiss in the Breathing Dome, and then this fluffy sacrifice thingy.”
Kiss in the dome?
The audience goes, “Ummmmm,” as if Timmy shouldn’t have said that.
What is going on?
“Wait!” I say into my iAm. “What kiss in the dome?”
Bellona furrows her brows. “Did I miss that?”
“Don’t look at me.” I take a step back. “I know nothing about this. Who kissed who in the dome? It was all blood and gore.”
“In the middle of all this fighting?” Bellona wonders.
The crowd goes, “Awwww.”
I blink.
“Timmy?” I demand. “Timmmyyyyy!”
“Okay. Okay.” He kicks the empty air, giving up. This drives him crazy. “You have been kissed in the dome, sugar-bear. What? You didn’t feel it?”
I am blushing red. Did this really happen? What? No. I wasn’t kissed in the Breathing Dome. I was fighting for my life. They are talking about me as if I wasn’t there. Did one of the Bullies try to kiss me?
“You sneaky girl.” Bellona nudges me.
Suddenly, the memory hits me right in my chest, like an arrow of fire.
The gas mask!
When Leo saved me, and I was almost unconscious. When I thought he was Woo. That gummy sweet feeling on my lips, and I thought it was the rubbery part of the inside of the mask.
I feel mad all of a sudden. I turn back to Leo. “How dare you?” I tap my foot against the ground.
Pepper, holding Woodsy’s hand, laughs at me.
“What?” Leo says with his unemotional, unanimated posture.
“You kissed me while I was unconscious?” I accuse him. “Without my permission? Who do you think I am? Snow White, being kissed by a pervert prince?”
The audience laughs. I know most of the girls in the crowd favor Leo and restrain my anger.
“You believe this loon? Grow up, will ya,” Leo says monotonously.
“I can’t believe you kissed me while I was dying
.” I punch him in the face. He doesn’t move.
The crowd laughs more and more.
“This show is turning into a Bachelor show,” Timmy grunts. “Where is the blood? Where is the hatred? This show needs an extreme makeover.”
“I saved you,” Leo says. “Why in the world would I kiss you behind your back?” He laughs at himself as if the thought is so preposterous to him. “If I wanted to, I would have done it. Why would I deny it?”
The audience goes nuts, especially the girls. “Go, Leo.”
Go, Leo? Didn’t they see him kiss me?
“Not that I really want to,” Leo adds.
Why is he so mean to me?
“Can you please play the scene again, Timmy?” I ask politely, secretly kicking myself in the head for needing Timmy to help me.
“No can do,” says Timmy. “I have seven million viewers online. Half of them didn’t see the show yesterday, so I can’t lose them on the recap. They will be searching for this scene all night long.” I am amazed he says this aloud. He does not shy away, even one bit, from letting everyone know that this show manipulates people’s emotions in every way to make money. “And I stopped anonymous uploading into the network so none of you, my lovely audience, can share the scene before the recap.” He scratches his chin. “If there were actually a scene, and I wasn’t bluffing.”
“But you said—”
“Oh, you’re taking my word for it now?” Timmy interrupts me. “I’ll leave this between you and Leo. All night long, you’ll have to push him to admit what he did — if he did. I love my job.” He pulls two hands into a fist.
“Welcome to the Playa,” Vern says to Woodsy. “From now on, you won’t have time to catch your breath.”
“Okay,” I tell Timmy. “I am not going to whine and ask you to show the recording. Just promise me, my family is all right.”
“No, they aren’t,” says Timmy.
“How dare you? I shot Orin eventually, and we entertained all of you like you have never dreamed of.” I talk to the nearest camera, hoping the audience will help me.
“Your family is not all right, because you don’t have a family anymore,” says Timmy bluntly. “That was the deal. As for those you once used to call family, they are perfectly all right.”
I let out a sigh, one that comforts me and hurts at the same time. I’ve saved my family by declaring I am not one of them. What matters is that they are all right and that my actions will not affect them anymore.
As for me, I am on my own now. As Leo said, this is the time when I have to grow up.
Timmy announces the end for today, although the audience wants more. Timmy convinces them that we, the Monsters, need to catch our breath so tomorrow’s game won’t be boring. How thoughtful.
What more can he ask for? All that fame and success and ten members guaranteed to show up for the games tomorrow.
“I still have a question—” I raise my hand at the camera.
“Not again.” Leo’s face knots as he grabs my arm. “I told you I didn’t kiss you.”
“Who said I have a question about you?” I look at him and pull his hand away. “How about food?” I ask Timmy. “Can’t you see we’re starving here?” I say. Leo looks embarrassed. “A girl needs to eat, you know.” I grin at Leo. “It’s not all blood and kissing.”
“Woodsy has two bags full of snacks,” says Timmy. “That will do until tomorrow because tomorrow is going to be really meaty. Really meaty.” Timmy stops for effect, and raises his hands. “Tomorrow we have our favorite part of the game. Carnivore!”
The audience complains to Timmy that as much as they love the Carnivore part, they hate it too because they don’t get to see the real action in the white surroundings. They complain that all they do is watch the white Monsterium with vague movements until they see the red blood on the sand and know that the game is over.
“Don’t worry, Faya,” says Timmy. “I promise you. We’ve fixed that. Tomorrow’s game has slight changes, and you will love it.”
I don’t want to hear about Carnivore now. I don’t want to know if Leo kissed me. All I care about is that I am starving.
We stare back at Woodsy, as if he is food himself. “Where is the damn food?”
Chapter 10
After we take the Monorail back through the tunnel, we settle in the forest, emptying Woodsy Brown’s bags full of canned food, drinks, and candy. It turns out the bags were Woodsy’s idea, not the Summit’s.
“How come there are no animals in this forest?” wonders Woodsy.
I turn to Leo. Although I don’t want to talk to him, he must have an idea. Leo’s story still doesn’t make sense to me, let alone his behavior. I am still not sure if he did kiss me in the Breathing Dome. I can’t hide it. I’d be happy if he did, but his distance and secrecy are intolerable.
That would have been the strangest first kiss ever.
“I don’t know,” says Leo. “We haven’t been into the heart of the forest. If there are animals, and they aren’t hungry and dangerous, they must be hiding from us.”
If there are animals, that would be where Woo is hiding.
“I doubt the forest is inhabited in any shape or form,” says Bellona. “The Summit would be giving us hope to survive in the Playa. We could hunt and eat animals and stay here forever, hiding from them. This Dizny Battlefield is an abandoned place with only deadly toys to play with, like a haunted house in one of those old horror movies.”
“But there was that incident in the fifth Monster Show when people from the Breakfast Club had snuck into the battlefields with buckets full of planting seeds, and ten pairs of animals,” Pepper, the educated, claims. “Like Noah's ark, you know? The animals were never caught, though.”
“The animals could have easily died,” says Vern. “There is nothing to feed on here. I think it was a foolish attempt from the Breakfast Club.”
“How do you know that stuff?” Bellona asks Pepper. “You were what, eleven, in the fifth games?”
“We’re taught everything about the games from the day we’re born,” Woodsy says, holding Pepper’s hand. “We were taught that this is our fate, written on a stone called the Rosetta Stone, in the highest place of the Royal Tower, where Prophet Xitler lives.”
Leo puffs again, gritting his teeth, and looking upward at the night sky. “God help me not to kill myself,” he prays.
“Calm down,” Bellona laughs. “My guess is that the Rosetta Stone is the name of something so different from what they said it was and has a greater purpose, and its history has been altered by Prophet Xitler. Right?”
“You’re damn right,” says Leo.
“Since we don’t ask you how you know all of this, or where you were the last four years, or what you’re really doing here in the games, please stop complaining,” says Bellona.
I would have said that myself to Leo, but I am not talking to him.
“I am here because I am being punished.” Leo shrugs his shoulders, sounding defensive, which he never does. “I tried to escape Faya, but I never did. I hid here and there, homeless on the streets, never knowing how to escape. Finally, I decided I’d better surrender myself to the authorities, and declare that I was wrong for singing the song. I had to do it to survive since I couldn’t find help, being banned and on my own. So when I did, Xitler decided to send me to the games as punishment. That’s why I am here.”
The one obvious thing that proves to me that Leo is lying is how long his speech is. He barely says a couple of sentences at a time. I don’t think any of us believe him, but we won’t push it. We trust him, and he does protect us. Whatever secret reason he has to attend the games, we will deal with later, if we stay alive.
Everyone has his own secrets. No one knows that I switched the iAm.
“So, what’s the name of the faction you and Woodsy come from?” I ask Pepper.
“We don’t have a name,” Pepper says nonchalantly. “Why would we? We’re losers. You might as well call us Zero. Can’t
you see my name is Pepper? I come from a place where you could be called pepper or salt. It doesn’t matter, really. You’re an add-on to the main dish, after all.”
I don’t want to go there again with Pepper, now that she has found true love. I guess she can’t escape the things she was told when she was younger.
“By the way,” I say, trying to divert from where the conversation is going. “I think I saw someone the other day in the forest.”
“Someone?” Bellona wonders.
“A little girl, about seven years old.”
“That’s impossible,” says Pepper. “All players are sixteen. If, hypothetically, someone survived and lived down here, they would be older than us.”
“How would someone survive when we have to say ‘I am alive?’” Vern asks.
“You can just pretend you died, and not say anything,” Bellona suggests. “Then hide in the forest.”
That’s exactly what I hope Woo did.
“And do what?” Vern asks. “That’s not an option. It’s just a slower death. There is no way to escape this place, and no way to survive in it.”
“How about the Rabbit Hole? The real one?” Bellona reminds him.
“I don’t believe in that crap. It was just a joke that went viral on the gaming network,” says Vern. “You’ve seen for yourself, the only Rabbit Hole we know of was in the game today. There is no way out of here, and I can prove it.”
“How?” I wonder.
“Would you agree to pretend we’re dead tomorrow, and not reply to the iAm saying ‘I am alive?’” he asks.
Silently, we exchange looks. What a crazy idea. No. They won’t do it, of course.
But Woo did. Right? He told me he would do it. Otherwise, my being here has no meaning at all.