Kubrick's Game

  Shawn wrote down the words spoken to spark life: Cirrus, Socrates, Particle, Decibel, Hurricane, Dolphin, Tulip. He racked his brain for an hour trying to decipher what they could mean. Could they be formed into a question? Of those words, “decibel” stuck out from the others—a musical term indicating volume. Perhaps the selections from the curious music album needed to be listened to at a certain decibel level.

  Exhausted, Shawn lay in bed as ideas bounced in his brain. He decided to watch the film again, and this time, as he watched David’s journey to reunite with the one he loved, all Shawn could think about was how much he missed his friends.

  He decided to check his messages, and found a voicemail from Sami.

  “Hi Shawn, it’s me. I understand if you’re still mad, but I hope you’ll come to my graduation ceremony Saturday at three in the main quad. I miss you. Wilson won’t admit it, but he does too. Take care.”

  3:01 a.m.

  “I suppose you want the password.”

  “If you’d like, sir.”

  Before Shawn could answer, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

  “Got a date for the party?”

  Shawn turned.

  “Desiree? What are you doing here?”

  “Same as you. Trying to get past the gate.”

  “Wait a second. Are you in my dream?”

  “How do you know you’re not in mine?”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “How should I know? Let’s just give them the password.”

  “I was going to say Monica.”

  “How about decibel?”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  Shawn turned back to the guard and said, “Decibel.”

  “I’m afraid that’s... incorrect.”

  Shawn woke up, shaken. Desiree had never been in any of his previous dreams. With a burning desire to talk to her, he dialed her number and was about to press call, then thought better of it and put the phone down.

  Later that morning, Shawn visited Strauss in the hospital and updated him on his progress with A.I., and his suspicion that the seven words spoken to David were somehow connected to the question they had to ask Spielberg.

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Strauss asked through a mouthful of the hospital’s breakfast burrito.

  “I value your input. That tidbit about the Eyes Wide Shut music was a major breakthrough.”

  “Are you sure there’s not another reason?”

  “Well, I suppose if anything were to happen to me, I think you should be the one to take up the mantle and complete the quest.”

  “That’s what I thought. Let me tell you right now: that’s not going to happen. I am completely content with my life, and I’m not messing with that for anything. You might want to seek out another protégé.”

  “Who would possibly be worthy?”

  “I can think of two people right now.”

  “You mean Sami and Wilson? Those traitors?”

  Strauss sighed. “Let me tell you a story. I had a buddy, Solomon Meeks—the type of guy who would dress up as the fat Robin to my fat Batman so we could conquer San Diego Comic-Con. One year we met a cute Batgirl who was there all by herself, and she hung out with us. I was in love. I told Solomon, and he said to go for it. As you might have guessed, she wasn’t into fat Batman. She had a thing for Robin, and they left me in the dust. I never spoke to Solomon again. He even asked me to be best man at their wedding, but I refused to attend. You think I still care about Batgirl? I was over her two weeks later, but I was too proud to apologize to Solomon. You know what I learned? It sucks going to Comic-Con as single fat Batman. Turns out it’s harder to find a new best friend than a girlfriend. I suggest you shift your perspective and be happy for them. All you had was a fantasy, but what they have is real. Here, take a look at this.”

  Strauss pulled out his phone and brought up a family portrait of Solomon, his wife, and their three kids all dressed up as chubby Supermen and Wonder Women for Halloween.

  He sighed. “Who was I to deny them that?”

  Shawn looked at the photo and imagined himself as one of the children. What would it have been like to grow up in a home where his parents shared his passions? He lowered the photo and nodded to Strauss, suddenly feeling disappointed in himself.

  “Tony,” he said, “there’s something I need to tell you. Yesterday, when I was copying the moon landing footage, I used your ultraviolet scanning equipment on the monolith reel.”

  “You what? That’s expensive, sensitive equipment. Don’t tell me you broke it.”

  “No, it worked fine.”

  “How did you even know how to use it?”

  “I had time to study it while the copies were being made. But what I saw has me rattled.”

  “What did you see?”

  “The first part of the footage seemed entirely authentic—no sign of front-screen projection, and the shadows seemed explainable via the sun, not the lighting equipment. However, when it got to the part where Armstrong approached the monolith, the projection screen became visible. It seems to be a fake.”

  “That’s interesting, isn’t it?”

  “Was Kubrick trying to play a joke on us? Was it even Kubrick who made it?”

  Strauss started laughing. “We want so badly for there to be something more out there, whether it’s supernatural, mystical, or extraterrestrial. In the end, it all boils down to simple truth, doesn’t it?”

  Shawn’s phone rang. The call was from a blocked number.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Mr. Hagan?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Detective Pearson, Santa Clarita PD. We need you down at the station this afternoon to identify some suspects.”

  Shawn entered the police station. As he’d both hoped and feared, Desiree and the rest of the USC team were already in the waiting area

  Desiree gave him a harsh look as he entered, then turned her head without a greeting.

  Instinct told Shawn to sit down and not say a word.

  They’re just going to try to pry you for information. Don’t trust them.

  He chose to go against his instinct, and approached them. “I know what you must think of me. I’m sorry I flaked out on you. I was in a bad place with my team and didn’t feel I could trust anyone. If you still want to work together, I’m open.”

  Danny sneered. “Trying to get information out of us again? It won’t work.”

  “Not anymore. I’ve realized that games aren’t fun when you play alone. I’m willing to give you a key piece of info if we can work together.”

  Danny snickered. “Oh yeah? What?”

  “You remember the playlist from the 2001 album? Edit the scenes that use the music into a cinematic sequence. Watch them before you enter the ‘Land of Nod’ and something interesting should happen.”

  “All right, one more shot,” said Danny. “My place tonight. We finish this.”

  For the next half hour, the four of them had to rehash the story to the police to make sure all the facts checked out.

  “It’s like I told the others,” said Shawn. “Those guys are part of some crazy cult that thinks the moon landing is fake, and were trying to steal the original footage.”

  “And why did they cut off your thumb, Mr. Jacobs?”

  “They knew I was an intern. They wanted me to get them inside and tell them where the vault was.”

  “The thing is, we checked with the archive and none of you are on record as being interns.”

  Desiree piped in. “Well, we’re not interns yet. We’re more like... pre-interns. Strauss has been testing us out before awarding the position to one of us.”

  “Well,” said Detective Pearson, “in my opinion, you’re not telling us something, but seeing as the suspects are exercising their right to remain silent, you may get out of this unscathed. Follow me.”

  Pearson took Shawn into a room, while the others waited outside. A two-way mirror provided a view of a wall where
eight detainees were lined up. Shawn’s focus went immediately to Greenwald, who had a wry smirk on his face.

  “Number Four, please step forward,” said Pearson.

  “Yes, that’s him. Herbert Greenwald. He was the leader,” said Shawn.

  “Step back, Number Four.” He turned back to Shawn. “You are willing to testify to that under oath?”

  “Yes.”

  As Greenwald stepped back, he mouthed, It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.

  “That will be all,” said Pearson. “You’re free to go.”

  Shawn started to leave, but then Pearson said, “Before you go, perhaps you could tell me, how was it that you knew his name was Herbert Greenwald? We didn’t find any I.D. on him.”

  “His men must have called him by name.”

  “They called him Herbert Greenwald?”

  “Must have.”

  Pearson rolled his eyes. “You’re a lucky boy, Mr. Hagan. A very lucky boy.”

  As Shawn drove back to the archive, he couldn’t shake the image from his head of Greenwald mouthing, It’s over. What did it mean? Was it a threat? Or did he mean the game itself was over? Had another team already won? How would he even know?

  As he drove, it dawned on Shawn that if Greenwald knew something, there was only one other person who might have answers. It looked like Strauss had been right after all; it was time to stop hiding and confront Mascaro.

  He turned the car around and headed back to UCLA.

  Being the last day of the school year, the campus was emptying out, which provided at least a little comfort—Shawn had placed a digital file of the monolith moon footage in his backpack.

  He reached Melnitz Hall just before closing, and ran upstairs to Mascaro’s office. Taped to the outside of the door was a note underlined in red ink: It’s Over.

  The door was locked. He knocked, but no one answered. He kicked the door in anger. Exasperated, he pulled out his phone.

  Shawn: What do you mean “It’s Over”?

  Mascaro: What do you think? The game is over.

  Shawn: I don’t believe you. Is this your last ditch effort to get us to give up? It won’t work.

  Mascaro: Very well. Continue to waste your time playing. You will come up empty.

  Shawn: I am at your office. I have the moon footage you so desperately wanted, Primo.

  There was a long pause this time.

  Mascaro: I also have the footage. You made one too many copies, my friend.

  Shawn: Do you think the footage is the end of the game? It’s not.

  Mascaro: I am aware it’s not. However, in my hand I am holding “the end” of the game. Otherwise, you and your friends would certainly not be walking freely. Ciao.

  That night, Shawn, Desiree, Danny, and Austin sat in the movie theater room of Danny’s mansion in Brentwood, which contained a thirty-foot screen and twelve leather chairs with footrests and cup holders.

  Shawn showed them Mascaro’s texts.

  “He’s lying,” said Danny. “You really think he’s come as far as we have?”

  “What I do know is that he has Luke Wexler and Rich Greenstone, the best puzzle-solvers in the business, working for him. They could have solved the puzzle in a heartbeat.”

  “But there’s one big thing going for us,” said Desiree. “Mascaro says that you made one too many copies and he has the footage, but based on the path we’re on, the moon footage has nothing to do with this game.”

  “Not only does it have nothing to do with the game... it’s fake,” Shawn said. “I viewed the monolith version of the moon landing under Strauss’s special lights, and it appeared to be a front-screen projection. It was created to fool the viewer into thinking it really happened.”

  “If that’s true, that footage might really be nothing but a diversion,” said Desiree.

  “So what do we do from here?” said Austin.

  Danny said, “Well, does anyone want to call it quits? Raise your hand.”

  Nobody raised their hand.

  “Then I guess we keep working. Austin, cue up the Dr. Know scene from A.I. so we can show Shawn where we’re at.”

  “I’m past that scene,” said Shawn. “Can we look at another?”

  “What do you mean you’re past it? What about the Yeats poem and the question that unlocked it? We were breaking them down for hours.”

  “And you got nothing, right?”

  “Well... yeah.”

  “What I got from the scene was just an indication that we must ask the right question in order to receive the final piece of the puzzle. That final piece is Kubrick’s intended music for the masked ball scene of Eyes Wide Shut. What I realized while watching the film last night is that David is the robot Adam. And where have we seen Adam imagery before?”

  “The Creation of Adam,” said Desiree. “That’s what the ‘hand of God’ is referring to in the clue.”

  “Right. And we see that image all over Kubrick’s and Spielberg’s films, but none more obvious than in this scene right here.”

  Shawn played the scene where Monica placed her fingers on David’s neck and said the seven words that give him life: Cirrus, Socrates, Particle, Decibel, Hurricane, Dolphin, Tulip.

  “This makes sense!” said Desiree. “The moon conceals the hand of God. Don’t you see? Kubrick is saying that the moon conspiracy is literally concealing the truth. Mascaro has totally fallen for it!”

  “Well, so did we,” said Shawn.

  “Yeah, but at least we’ve recognized it and gotten back on track. The characters in A.I. straight-up tell us the moon footage is fake.”

  She jumped to the scene where Gigolo Joe tells David, “The moon is fake,” and warns him not to follow it.

  “We thought Kubrick was telling us the moon landing was fake,” Desiree said. “But what if it’s a message about the game? Don’t follow the moon footage because it is there to lure the misguided off track.”

  “Precisely,” said Shawn. “Which brings us back to the seven words: Cirrus, Socrates, Particle, Decibel, Hurricane, Dolphin, Tulip. My guess is we have to decipher these words and somehow create a question out of them.”

  “Worth a shot,” Danny responded.

  After two hours, they had no promising results. Between the four of them, they studied the history of each word, the symbolic meaning of each word, even the life of Socrates.

  “The Socratic method is interesting,” said Austin. “Instead of lecturing, a teacher questions the students until they discover the answers for themselves.”

  Shawn nodded. “I guess that supports our theory, but we still have to figure out what that question is.”

  “How about the first and last words?” said Danny. “Cirrus is a cloud and tulip is a flower, so one gives life to the other. Remember the line from Full Metal Jacket? ‘What makes the grass grow? Blood! Blood! Blood!’”

  “Cirrus clouds aren’t rain clouds,” said Austin.

  Danny pressed, “You don’t think the question is, ‘What makes the grass grow?’ It incorporates all the elements.”

  “It’s a small possibility, at best,” said Shawn.

  “Don’t patronize me,” said Danny. “You don’t know jack!”

  “Calm down,” said Desiree. “We’re all getting a little punchy. Let’s take a break.”

  “Good idea,” said Austin. “I’ll go make some more coffee.”

  Shawn shuffled into a corner and took out his phone. He didn’t want to call them, but he knew this puzzle required out-of-the-box thinking, which was not his forte. Wilson and Sami were great at that.

  He started to dial, then stopped, lowered the phone, and turned to the group. “Danny, is it okay if I invite a couple friends over?”

  “You mean the teammates you ditched?”

  “Yes. I think they would be helpful.”

  “Only if they’re on board with working as one team from this point forward. No turning this into another Fantastic Race.”

  “Are you cool with this, Desire
e?”

  She turned from Shawn. “Yeah, I’m cool.”

  Shawn dialed the phone. “Hi, Wilson, it’s me. I’m at Danny’s house.... Yes, that Danny. We’ve combined forces, and if you want, we’re inviting you to join us.... Nah, they’re not so bad.... Okay I’m texting you the address.”

  Wilson and Sami arrived at half past midnight. As Shawn led them into the theater room, he quickly brought them up to speed.

  “Wait... so the monolith footage on the moon was faked?” said Wilson, genuinely disappointed.

  “Sorry, but that’s what I saw. You can take a look yourself if you want.” He handed Wilson a flash drive. “But I’d suggest dropping it, because I have a feeling reality is about to get stranger than fiction.”

  “Before that,” said Sami, “I need to know where we stand, Shawn. Are you okay with Wilson and me being together?”

  Shawn looked at Sami and noticed a thousand tiny details—her face, her hair, and her body, as if she were a pointillist painting. He noticed Wilson holding her hand and felt the pain of it not being his. He remembered the moment he’d fallen in love with Sami as they debated 2001 in the north campus cafeteria. She’d been alone, shut-off from the world, hair askew, her aura cold and distant.

  Now, she was glowing. She’d put care into every inch of her face. She projected warmth, love, and honesty. It was a person Shawn had never seen in her time alone with him, but who had blossomed in the arms of Wilson.

  In that moment, a part of him hurt that he wasn’t the sunlight that had caused her to bloom, but a larger part of him was ecstatic that they were back in his life and they could continue growing together.

  He said, “I was wrong before, and I’m happy for you.”

  The words felt like cement coming out of his mouth, but once he’d said them, he realized they were true.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted Desiree standing at the theater room doorway waiting for him. They locked eyes and held it for seconds... that felt like hours.

  Sami turned to Desiree. “You said you were stuck on something?”

  “Oh, right,” said Desiree. “Follow me.”

  “There you are,” said Danny. “Welcome to my abode.”