Endgame

by James Frey

  I know I’m supposed to be Russian, but I don’t think the kid is likely to speak that language. He’s probably picked up some phrases from the soldiers who have come to the island during the war, and wants to practice using them. I probably shouldn’t talk to him at all, in case he starts telling his buddies about the stranger in town, but I also don’t want to be rude.

  “English,” I say, hoping the accent I attempt is convincing.

  He grins. “God save the King!” he says, and laughs. “You soldier?”

  I shake my head. “A traveler.”

  He grins again. “You need a guide? I show you around. Temples. Caves. Everything.”

  I start to say no, but then I get an idea. It’s a risky one, but it’s the only possible lead I have, so I decide to try. “I came here because I met someone from Crete, and he told me it was very beautiful.”

  “Yes,” the boy says. “Very beautiful.”

  “His name is Calligaris,” I say. “Maybe you know him.”

  “Many people with that name on Crete,” the boy says.

  “He has daughters,” I say. “Twins.”

  “Ah,” the boy says. “That Calligaris. Ariadne and Cassandra.”

  My heart skips a beat when I hear Ariadne’s name. “Do you know where they live?”

  The boy reaches out and takes my hand. “Come. I show you.”

  Before I can object, I’m following him through the crowd. No one pays any attention to us, but still I’m anxious. I don’t know who my guide is, or where he’s taking me. I can’t just walk up to the door of Ariadne’s house and knock. When the boy eventually leads me away from the main street to a smaller side one, I stop him.

  “I want this to be a surprise,” I tell him. “For the new year. Just show me where the house is, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says, and starts off again. I’m thankful he’s young, and hasn’t learned to be suspicious of people he doesn’t know. I also envy him a little for this.

  A few minutes later we turn in to a narrow lane, and he stops. “There,” he says, pointing to a house. “Calligaris.” He looks at me expectantly, and I realize that he’s waiting for me to give him something. I reach into my pocket and fish out some coins. I’m not even sure what currency they are, as I have several jumbled up in there from my travels, but he doesn’t seem to care. He sticks the money in his own pocket and trots off, back toward the noise and the crowds.

  I turn my attention to the house. Assuming the boy has brought me to the right place, is Ariadne inside? For all I know, she’s out celebrating like so many other people. Or maybe she’s in there with her family. With Cassandra. Thinking about Ariadne’s twin, I reach into my coat and check for my pistol. If I have to face her again, I’ll be ready, and this time she won’t be walking away with a smile on her face.

  I approach the house and start scanning it, looking for the best way inside. Like most of the houses I’ve seen in Heraklion, it’s constructed of stone and plaster, with several tall, open windows that can be covered with wooden shutters. Right now the windows are open, and light spills out from all of them. I wonder which one, if any, is Ariadne’s bedroom.

  As I’m standing there, the front door opens. I quickly dart into the shadows and watch as several people come out. When I see Ariadne among them, laughing and smiling as she puts her arm around the shoulder of a handsome young man, I get jealous. Then I remind myself that it might not be her. It might be Cassandra. My Player instinct kicks in, telling me that if it is, I should take her out.

  Instead I let the group pass by me. The closer they get, the better look I get at the girl, and for some reason, I’m almost positive that it’s Cassandra. There’s a cockiness to her that seems out of place for Ariadne. Of course, the Ariadne I know might have been an act. Maybe this is the real her. But I don’t think so. When I look at this girl, I see Ariadne’s face, but I don’t feel Ariadne there. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s like looking at someone wearing an Ariadne mask.

  When they’ve moved on down the street, I walk across to the house and risk peering into one of the lower windows. There’s an older woman moving around, picking up dishes and carrying them into the back of the house. Ariadne’s mother? I hear her say something in Greek. Someone else answers, and it sounds like Ariadne, but I can’t see her. The two of them talk a bit more. It sounds to me as if they’re arguing, but as I don’t understand the words, it’s difficult to say. Then the voices stop. The woman reappears. She seems sad.

  If Ariadne is here, she’s now in one of the upstairs rooms. I examine the exterior of the house, and see that it would be easy enough to scale the walls. The stones provide handholds and footholds. It’s risky, as anyone passing by could see me, but I decide to chance it, and begin climbing. Pretty quickly, I’m level with the upper windows. I look in the first one and find an empty bedroom. The second window likewise reveals a room with no one in it.

  I’m hanging there, trying to decide what to do next, when I hear a sharp intake of breath above me. I look up, and Ariadne is looking down at me. Like many of the roofs, this one is flat, and there’s a rooftop garden up there. She’s standing at the edge, regarding me with an expression of disbelief.

  “Boone?” she says, as if she isn’t sure. Then I remember my disguise.

  I climb the rest of the way up and pull myself over the edge. I stand in front of her, and the two of us just stare at each other for a long moment. Then Ariadne pulls me into a hug, her arms closing around me. I hug her back and bury my face in her hair. It smells sweet and clean, and I close my eyes, letting the scent fill my nose as I hold Ariadne tightly.

  “I knew you’d get out,” she says softly. “But how did you find me?”

  “Oh, you know,” I say. “I just walked into the center of town and shouted, ‘Does anyone know where I can find the Minoan Player?’”

  She lets go of me and steps back. “I’m not the Player anymore,” she says. “Cassandra is.”

  “What?”

  “The council voted to remove me,” she says.

  She sounds angry, but also a little bit relieved. I wonder if she’s been thinking about what this means for us. Now that she’s not a Player, maybe she thinks we can be together.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” she says, as if she’s reading my mind. “If anything it makes it worse. They think I was colluding with you. And I guess I was. To them, that makes me a traitor. I’m lucky to have escaped punishment. If they think there’s anything between us, or that I’m helping you, they would not be lenient again. It would mean death for me.”

  Death. Would they really kill her? As soon as I ask myself the question, I know that the answer is yes. This is Endgame. Everything about it is a matter of life and death. If her council thinks she’s a danger to them, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And what about my council? Would they do the same thing? I can’t recall a Cahokian Player ever being removed from action. What if I’m the first?

  All of a sudden, I realize the position I’ve put both of us in by coming here. I’ve been reckless, stupid. “Do you want me to go?” I ask Ariadne.

  She doesn’t hesitate as she shakes her head and says, “No. But you can’t stay. You have to get away from Crete. It won’t take them long to know that you’re here, and if they catch you, you’ll be dead as well.”

  “Then come with me,” I tell her. “Away from Crete.”

  “They’ll follow,” she says. “Wherever I go, they’ll come after me. And I won’t be any more welcome among the Cahokians than you would be here.”

  “You don’t know that,” I say. “My family are good people.”

  She smiled sadly. “So are mine, Boone. That’s how I know.”

  I think about what she’s saying. Her family loves her, just like mine loves me. And her family, her line, would never be able to accept us together because of the rules of Endgame. It’s as simple as that. And she’s right: mine would feel the same way. We’ve known this since the very beginning, b
ut ever since I decided to come looking for her, I’ve thought there might be a way out. Now the reality of what our lives are stares me right in the face.

  Nobody ever tells you that when your heart breaks, you can feel it. I feel it in my chest now, a sharp pain like the slice of a knife. At first I think it’s just sadness about not being able to be with Ariadne. Then, the more I sort through the emotions swirling around in my head, the more I realize that it’s also about my position as a Player. My whole life, I’ve been trained to think only of winning Endgame. Now, because of what I feel for Ariadne, that’s also at risk. Especially if my council knows about Ariadne, which is a very real possibility given that hers knows about me. Even if I get the weapon and take it home with me, will my council be able to trust me? As I stand here with Ariadne, I see the two things that mean the most to me being taken away.

  “There has to be another way,” I say. “There has to. What if we buy our way out?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I think quickly, putting pieces together in my mind. “What do both of our lines want more than anything?”

  “To win Endgame,” Ariadne says.

  “Right. And both of them think the weapon will help them do that.”

  Ariadne’s eyes widen. “Are you saying we trade the weapon for—”

  “For our freedom,” I say. “We tell them they can’t have the weapon unless they agree to leave us alone.”

  Ariadne shakes her head. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying,” I tell her, although I’m not certain I do. I only know that right now I’ll do anything to get her to be with me.

  “It’s insane,” she says. “It will never work.”

  “Maybe not,” I say. “But we can try. Do you know where the weapon is?”

  “I think so,” she says.

  “Can we get to it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then let’s go. If we’re caught, you can tell them I forced you to show me.”

  “And if we’re not caught?” she asks.

  I take a breath. “Then we leave Crete together,” I say. “We take the weapon with us.”

  I expect her to immediately say no. When she doesn’t, I know I have a chance. I take her hand. “Trust me,” I say as I squeeze her fingers.

  When she says, “Come with me,” I think my heart might burst from happiness. She leads me across the rooftop garden and into the house, then into her bedroom, where she puts on shoes, takes a bag from her closet, and puts a few things into it. Then we go down the stairs, pausing to make sure no one sees us before leaving the house. Ariadne does not look back as we make our way down the street.

  “The weapon is at Ianthe’s house,” she says. “They’re trying to decipher the plans.”

  It takes us only 15 minutes to reach the other house. We keep to the side streets, avoiding the busy squares where people are congregating. Even so, I can sense that Ariadne is on high alert. So am I. It was dangerous enough when I was on my own. If we’re discovered together, it could be even worse. There are a lot of things I want to ask Ariadne and talk to her about, but they all have to wait.

  Unlike the Calligaris home, this other one is dark. There are no lights in the windows, no sounds of celebration coming from inside.

  “Looks like no one is home,” I say.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Ariadne reminds me. “Let me go to the door. It won’t seem unusual for me to come here.”

  “Even though you’re not the Player anymore?”

  “Ianthe is a friend,” Ariadne says. “Wait here.”

  I watch her walk across the street. Again I think about how she must be feeling. Everything is happening so quickly, and I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, asking her to help me. Even though she’s been demoted by her line, she’s still Minoan. Her family is here, and her friends. If she’s caught helping me, she could lose all of that too. Selfishly, I want her with me. But maybe I’m asking too much.

  She knocks on the door and waits. Nobody comes to open it. She knocks again. When still there’s no answer, she takes something from her pocket and inserts it into the door lock. The door opens, and she slips inside. I wait for her to signal to me that it’s all right to join her, but she doesn’t. I wait, wondering what’s happening inside. No lights come on, and there are no voices. Then Ariadne emerges from the house and darts across the street.

  “I’ve got it,” she says, showing me a familiar-looking box.

  “That was easy,” I say.

  “Too easy,” she replies. “It was locked up, but still I was able to get it without much effort.”

  “What are you saying?” I ask her.

  “I’m not certain,” she says. “But we need to get away from here. Now. How are you getting back to the mainland?”

  “I hadn’t really gotten that far with my plan,” I admit.

  She shakes her head. “How did you get here?”

  “I hired a boat.”

  “And you didn’t tell him to wait for you?”

  “I didn’t know how long it would take.”

  “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re a Player,” she says. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the docks.”

  Again she takes me through backstreets, avoiding the crowds. When we arrive at a dock, she goes to a boat and begins untying the mooring lines. “You can pilot a boat, right?”

  “Sure,” I say. “I think.”

  “You think?”

  “How hard can it be?”

  Before she can answer, a voice behind us says, “So, it’s true.”

  I turn and see a woman standing on the dock, watching us.

  “Ianthe,” Ariadne says.

  “I told the others you would never betray us,” Ianthe says. “I see now I was wrong.”

  “I’m not betraying anyone,” Ariadne tells her.

  Ianthe looks at me. “No?” she says.

  Ariadne takes a step toward her. “This isn’t about Minoans and Cahokians anymore,” she says. “It’s about all of us working together.”

  “Together?” Ianthe says. “You want to share the weapon?” She laughs, as if this is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. “Is that what this boy has promised you?”

  I bristle at her obvious insult and want to say something. Ariadne glances at me as if to tell me to calm down, and I force myself to keep quiet.

  “He hasn’t promised me anything,” Ariadne says. “We believe there’s another way, a way we can all benefit from using the weapon.”

  Ianthe pulls a gun from her coat pocket. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she says. “But it’s not too late.”

  As I wait for Ariadne to say something, a burst of gunfire erupts. Instinctively, I check myself for wounds, thinking the Minoan woman has fired at me. Then I realize that it was the sound of fireworks. It must be midnight, and people are celebrating the arrival of 1949.

  Ianthe too must think it’s gunfire, as she looks around. While she’s distracted, Ariadne rushes at her and tackles her. The two of them struggle, rolling around on the dock. Then Ariadne gets Ianthe in a choke hold. The other woman tries to break free, but Ariadne retains her grip, and soon Ianthe passes out.

  “Help me get her on the boat,” Ariadne says.

  “On the boat?” I say.

  “We can’t leave her here,” Ariadne says, putting her arms under Ianthe’s and lifting her. “She’ll alert the others.”

  Not if we kill her, I think. But I know Ariadne won’t do this. So I go and help her carry the unconscious woman onto the boat. Ariadne finds some rope and ties her up securely. Then she says, “I knew it was too easy. We need to go. Now.”

  She takes control of the boat, starting it as I finish untying the mooring lines. As we leave the harbor, I go and stand by her, looking out at the dark water.

  “It will take us seven hours to reach the mainland,” Ariadne says.

  “And the
n?” I ask.

  She looks at me. “And then we’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Ariadne

  The last thing I expected to be doing on the first day of the new year is driving to France in a stolen car with the Cahokian Player after stealing from my own line, but that’s exactly what I’m doing. Boone is slumped against the door of the Citroën, snoring as I navigate the roadway. We’ve been taking turns driving, and I’m supposed to wake him when we reach Belgrade, so that he can relieve me and I can sleep. However, I am not tired. Even if I were, my thoughts would make it impossible to rest.

  I have committed treason. By now this will have been discovered. Ianthe will have returned to Crete and told everyone what happened. Hopefully, she will also deliver the message I gave her when we left her tied up in the boat at the dock on the mainland. “Tell them that there’s another way,” I said as she glared at me, her eyes filled with both anger and sadness. I know she thinks I’ve turned my back on my line. She’s wrong. I still hope there’s a way for us all to use the weapon for our mutual benefit. But will anyone believe that? And even if they do believe that it’s what I want, will they ever agree to cooperate with other lines?

  I don’t know. And they will come after me. I know that. I do have an advantage in that they don’t know where I am going. Depending on how much they know about Sauer—and I assume they know as much as I do—they might surmise that Lottie is the person with the most knowledge of the weapon. They might also think that the weapon is heading for the United States with the Cahokian Player. Either way, they will be looking both for the weapon and for me.

  I wonder if I will ever see Crete again, or my family. I fear that I have made this impossible. As far as they are concerned, I might as well be dead. Perhaps they even wish me so. Cassandra, as our new Player, is the one most likely to be tasked with hunting down the stolen weapon. If so, she will also be told to get it at any cost, including, if necessary, my life. We are still sisters, still share the same blood in our veins, but we might as well be strangers.

  Maybe we have always been enemies. At any rate, we have not been friends for a very long time. Now Cassandra has what she’s always wanted. She’s the Player. If the cost of this is our sisterhood, I believe it’s a price she would more than willingly pay. Truthfully, I’ve often wondered why the council chose me over her. I imagine they are now asking themselves the same question. Particularly Ursula Tassi and Nemo Stathakis. Having declared their belief in my innocence, they will undoubtedly be even more disappointed. They might even find themselves suspected of disloyalty.