Kubrick's Game

  Solve the dual chess puzzle of eight to find the next Q.

  “Q,” replied Shawn.

  “That is checkmate,” said the docent. “Please follow me.”

  The docent led them to a back room of the museum, closed the door behind them, and his officious manner quickly dropped. “Wow. I thought I would never get a chance to do that. Good job, guys!”

  “What are you talking about?” said Sami.

  “The ones who got assigned to the 2001 room had to memorize that whole line of questioning in case someone came asking about that replica. They wouldn’t tell us why, though. Can you enlighten me?”

  “That depends on what happens next,” said Wilson.

  The docent unlocked a safe, pulled out an object, and placed it in Shawn’s hand. It was a silver pendant the size of a medal. “Got a handful of those in the safe for other groups that may come by.”

  “Have there been other groups?” asked Shawn.

  “Not on my watch,” said the docent. “But I only work weekends. The stack of pendants does seem a little shorter than before, so it’s possible. What’s it all about?”

  “Something like a scavenger hunt,” said Sami.

  “Cool. I love scavenger hunts. Check out what the pendant says. I have no clue what it means.”

  Shawn held up the pendant and they looked closely at the engraved writing. It read:

  Where was Q framed in 8, 9, and, 11? The Frozen Man will reveal when.

  “Turn it over,” said the docent.

  Shawn turned it over.

  As soon as Wilson saw what was on the other side, he blurted, “Oh, Jesus, no.”

  Neither Shawn nor Sami recognized the strange symbol, though it looked familiar.

  “I remember seeing that symbol on the building I used to drive past on Wilshire,” Wilson said.

  “What is it?” asked Sami.

  “It’s the Masonic Compass. You can see them on the front of every Freemason temple in the world.”

  Shawn’s head spun. He thought about the writing on the other side. Eight, Nine, and Eleven. If the pattern was the same as in past clues, and those were Kubrick films, it was referring to 2001, A Clockwork Orange, and The Shining. All three were Kubrick’s most symbol-laden films, widely known for their frequent use of Masonic imagery.

  Wilson continued, “One time I went inside one of the temples to ask what it was all about. The dudes in there were not too welcoming. Guys, I don’t think I can continue this game if we’re about to get into some Nicolas Cage, Freemason voodoo.”

  “This seems more interesting than a scavenger hunt,” said the docent.

  Shawn felt uncomfortable. His palms became sweaty. “Can we keep this?”

  “It’s all yours,” said the docent locking the safe. “Best of luck.”

  Shawn slipped the pendant into his pocket and motioned to the team. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They left the room and walked through the museum.

  Shawn noticed three men in dark suits walking behind them. “Guys, I think we’re being followed.”

  Sami and Wilson turned. The suits were closing in.

  “I think you’re right,” said Sami. “What do we do?”

  “Running worked before,” said Wilson. “Ready?”

  They nodded.

  “Go!”

  They made a quick break and the three suits took off after them.

  The docents they passed yelled, “No running!”

  The friends slowed down, but the suits kept charging after them.

  Wilson pulled them through a back exit door that fed into the LACMA courtyard. They followed him to Chris Burden’s Urban Light installation, where dozens of old-time streetlamps formed a tight grid.

  They darted between the lampposts, but more men in suits appeared at each side, blocking all exits.

  “Whatever happens,” said Sami, “Don’t mention the pendant.”

  The suits spread out and formed a barrier. There was nowhere to run.

  Sami screamed, “Help! Police!”

  To Shawn’s dismay, the men were prepared. One of them held up a camcorder, pretending to film. He turned to the onlookers and said, “Just shooting a film. Please try to stay out of the shot.”

  An onlooker pointed and said, “Hey, look! It’s the holy cheesy pepperoni kid! They are shooting something!”

  “Dammit! This isn’t a movie!” Wilson shouted.

  “Must be one of those found-footage thrillers,” said the onlooker. Most of the crowd went back to their business, but several stopped to watch.

  “What do you want from us?” said Shawn.

  “Only what’s in your pocket,” said a suited man with slicked black hair.

  “You want it? Solve the puzzles yourself.” Shawn covered the bulging pendant.

  The suited man pulled back his black coat, revealing a gun tucked in his belt. “But this way is so much easier.”

  “You really gonna shoot us here in broad daylight?” said Wilson.

  “No, we won’t,” said the man. “But we can take you somewhere where that won’t be a problem.”

  “We’ll give you the pendant if you tell us who you’re working for,” said Sami.

  “You’re in no position to be making demands.”

  The man pulled out the gun and pointed it at Shawn.

  Wilson stepped in front to shield him. “Okay, okay, just don’t point that at my friend.”

  Wilson reached into Shawn’s pocket, winking at him as he did. He pulled out the pendant, holding it up for the suited men to see. Then, he shouted, “Free gold medallion!” before flinging the pendant over the street lamps, sending it skipping across the courtyard.

  A tourist in a Hawaiian shirt chased after it and snatched it off the ground.

  “Put that down!” a suit shouted, but the tourist had already pocketed it and darted into the crowd. The suits pursued the pendant, seemingly no longer concerned with Sami, Shawn, and Wilson.

  Back in the museum, they searched for the docent, hoping to replace the pendant, but he was no longer in the hall.

  They snuck out through a side exit, made it to the garage, jumped into Wilson’s car, and sped back to Westwood.

  “That was some quick thinking with the pendant,” said Sami, smiling at Wilson.

  “I thought it was needlessly risky,” Shawn said. “I had the symbol and clue memorized. Why not just give it to them?”

  “Come on,” said Wilson. “You really think those were FBI agents? I could tell they were straight from Central Casting. I bet the gun wasn’t even real.”

  “How can you be so sure?” said Shawn.

  “Um... because they were all dressed like Agent Smith from The Matrix? I bet you a hundred bucks the USC team paid those actors to scare us.”

  “If you’re so sure, then why didn’t we call their bluff?” said Sami.

  Wilson was silent.

  “Okay,” he said at last. “Maybe I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. I don’t want you guys freaking out and calling it quits. We’re obviously the only ones smart enough to solve the clues without resorting to intimidation. We have to step up our game, assume we’re being followed, and plan accordingly.”

  Shawn sat at his desk replaying the confrontation in his head, searching for clues as to whom the suits worked for. He considered Mascaro, but at the moment the professor was still under the impression that Shawn was divulging everything. Come their Monday meeting, Shawn had a major decision to make about whether to reveal what had happened. Perhaps Mascaro staged the whole thing as a test to see whether he would be truthful or to gauge whether the team was strong or weak.

  Djacks: u there?

  Moonwatcher: Hey Desiree.

  Djacks: You can call me Desi. Friends do.

  Moonwatcher: ok.

  Djacks: any luck today?

  Moonwatcher: Some good luck at first, then really bad.

  Djacks: I’m intrigued. How about I drive out there and you can show me around Westwoo
d. Turn that bad luck around.

  Westwood buzzed with Saturday night bar-crawlers. Shawn and Desiree stood in line at a hole-in-the-wall Mongolian barbecue joint a short walk from the dorms.

  “This isn’t exactly the type of place I was expecting you would take me,” said Desiree, who wore a vintage My Little Pony sweatshirt, short shorts, and bright pink hipster glasses.

  They were handed bowls and given no instructions. Before them was a buffet of frozen sliced meats, vegetables, and noodles.

  “Whatever you can fit into the bowl, they have to cook,” Shawn explained. “The average bowl can hold one scoop of noodles, but watch this.”

  Shawn used long slices of frozen turkey and chicken to create a supporting wall and dropped in three scoops of noodles.

  Desiree nodded her head at Shawn’s work, then proceeded to construct her own edifice, employing a different strategy of weaving green onions like a basket.

  Shawn applauded as she proceeded to fit four scoops of noodles into her bowl.

  “Bet you’ve never seen a girl do that on a first date,” she bragged.

  Shawn opted not to divulge that this was his first actual date.

  As they slurped down the noodles, He told her about the dual chess puzzle being the Infinity Room’s double at LACMA.

  “I knew it!” she exclaimed. “That was my inkling this morning.”

  “Did you tell your team yet?”

  “We’re supposed to meet up tomorrow. Won’t take much convincing since you came up with the same thing. You guys going to the museum soon?”

  “We went today.”

  “Oh? You gonna tell me what happened? Or do I have to pry it out of you?”

  She playfully poked him, and he giggled like a child. Without warning, she leaned over and kissed him.

  Caught off-guard, Shawn flinched.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” She looked worried.

  “No,” said Shawn. “I just don’t pick up social cues well. In retrospect, I can see that you wanted to kiss me.”

  She looked up at him with pouty eyes. “Can you tell what I want you to do now?”

  “You want me to go.” Shawn stood up to leave, but seeing Desiree’s look, he said, “That time I was just kidding.”

  He leaned down and gave her a peck on her lips. Before he could sit, Desiree had grabbed his collar and pulled him in for more. He could hear the sounds of sizzling noodles and meat on the skillet while she taught him what a real kiss was. He felt like he finally understood the final scene of A Clockwork Orange, when Alex’s mind was overwhelmed by explosions of lurid, twisted imagery upon realizing he was freed from enslavement. He pushed the thought away and tried to focus on the softness of her lips, the sound of her purr, and the scent of her breath, making certain to engrave it into his memory.

  “You were saying about the Infinity Room?” said Desiree, breaking the kiss and picking right up where the conversation had left off.

  Shawn told her about receiving the pendant. He didn’t reveal what was on it, but he described what happened when the suits stole it from them.

  She looked horrified.

  “This may be awkward,” he said, “but do you think Danny may have had anything to do with those guys? Are you sure you didn’t tell him about LACMA?”

  “No! I realize you may not think much of Danny, but he’s obsessed with outsmarting you. He wouldn’t take any pleasure in cheating to beat you.”

  “Well then, I’m more scared that those guys may have been the real deal and not just actors like Wilson thinks.”

  “I’m not surprised that all sorts of groups would be coming out of the woodwork to claim Kubrick’s prize, but I believe Kubrick wanted one of us to find it. The first clue was sent to all the top film schools.”

  “So what do you think the prize is?” Shawn asked.

  “I think whatever it is will be totally unexpected—a final twist ending, so to speak. But in my dreams? I imagine it’s a long-lost film that he shot under an assumed identity. He was so clever about it nobody even knew it was him. He could have shot random scenes over the course of decades so nobody would pick up on it. But here’s the kicker: it’s only raw footage. It’s the winner’s job to edit it together and make a movie out of it. I can see myself accepting the academy award now.”

  “That would be cool,” said Shawn. “But the latest clue on the pendant may shed some doubt on that. It makes me think that all the conspiracy theorists may be right.”

  “So, you gonna tell me what’s on the pendant?”

  “Don’t you want to find it with your own team?”

  “What if those guys weren’t my team? What if I joined up with you?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Danny and Austin are okay, but I know they’re just using me. They never said more than two words to me all year, but when little miss film geek was needed, they were all smiles and chit-chat.”

  “What about our schools’ rivalry?”

  “It should be about us, not our schools. And to be honest, I’d rather be working with you than against you, if you catch my drift. We’d get to spend more time together.” She placed her hand on his knee.

  Shawn smiled. No girl had ever talked to him like this before, but he couldn’t shake his feelings for Sami. They were like a constant weight in his stomach from the moment they had spoken about 2001. Maybe if he could beat the game and become famous, perhaps even a great director one day, she’d respect him. Perhaps then, her mind would change.

  His smile faded.

  Desiree noticed and removed her hand from his knee. “Look, just a suggestion. Don’t mean to pressure you.”

  “No, it’s not that. I would love for you to join our team, and I’m sure Wilson and Sami would be thrilled too, but.... I feel like I need to be honest with you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe I’m wrong, but I get the impression that you like me.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “And I like you too. But the truth is, at the moment, I’m in love with Sami.”

  “Oh.” Desiree sighed hard, averting her gaze from Shawn. “Have you told her this?”

  “Yes,” said Shawn. “She said she doesn’t feel the same way. So the good news is that we can keep dating, but if she were to change her mind, I would probably break up with you. I hope that’s okay.”

  Shawn reached out for her hand, but she scooted backward, avoiding eye contact.

  “You hope that’s okay?” Desiree blurted indignantly. “No, it’s not okay.” She stood up and stormed toward the door, then stopped, turned back and said. “Good luck, asshole. When I’m motivated, I never lose.”

  “Desi, wait!”

  “My name is Desiree!” She slammed the door behind her.

  When she hadn’t returned after five long minutes, it finally dawned on Shawn that she hadn’t been joking.

  Following a Cinema of the 60s screening of the first James Bond film, Dr. No, Shawn met up with Mascaro in his office.

  “Mr. Hagan, so good to see you. Tell me, how did you like today’s movie?”

  “Goldfinger is a much better film,” Shawn replied.

  “Yes, everyone says this, but Dr. No started the longest-running franchise in film history. If it had failed, there would have been no others.”

  Shawn wasn’t in the mood to argue. “If you say so.”

  “And speaking of film history, I studied the photos you left for me last time. The chessboard at Spartacus Square. The riddle: Solve the dual chess puzzle of 8 to reveal the next Q. Did you make any sense of this?”

  “Yes. The dual chess puzzle was referring to the miniature Infinity Room at the LACMA exhibit. After we passed a test, a docent gave us a pendant, and that’s when things got difficult.”

  He proceeded to detail the chase through the museum. Mascaro appeared genuinely horrified every step of the way, but Shawn couldn’t tell if it was an act or not.

  “Astonishing!” sa
id the professor as Shawn finished the story. “Tell me, what was on the pendant?”

  “I think you know exactly what’s on the pendant.”

  “Are you implying that I had something to do with those men? If I did, there would be no need for these meetings.”

  “Unless these meetings are your cover.”

  “I see your concern. I can assure you that I would never stoop to violence or intimidation.”

  “No, you would just threaten to ruin me financially and have me expelled.”

  “Tell me what was on the pendant.”

  “Quid pro quo, professor. If they weren’t your men, then tell me whose they were. You must have some insight.”

  Mascaro stood from his chair and paced the room, gathering his thoughts as he muttered to himself in Italian.

  “How to explain? Mr. Hagan... in any society, there is the hierarchy of power. Bottom level to highest level, and the larger the society, the more levels there are—hundreds, maybe thousands. You learn that no matter how high you think you are, there are always those higher than you. Even if you are il presidente, some are above you, but they are too smart to let you know they are even there. Vital knowledge, secrets... they are like hot gas. They rise to the top quickly. When new information is received, there is a reaction to it like lightning. That is what is happening now—reactions to new information that Kubrick has given to us.”

  Mascaro pronounced Kubrick “coo-brick.”

  Shawn sighed. “It’s Kyu-brick.”

  “Pardon. Kyu-brick was a shrewd man. He could think ten steps ahead of everyone else. So why give the clues to film students he knew would have no chance of success when the game was known to all who are above them?”

  “You think we have no chance of success? We’re winning.”

  “No, Mr. Hagan, you were never ahead of the game. The game had been going on weeks before you even knew about it.”

  Shawn sank in his chair. If this was true, his team had been pawns the whole time, but what for? Who was really moving the pieces?

  “Remember the levels,” Mascaro said. “When those above you take action, the ones below are never aware. But the ones above know everything that is taking place below them. Are you understanding this?”