The Quillan Games tpa-7

by D. J. MacHale

  “You see?” Veego said. “Challengers are treated very well.” “Until they have to die,” I said.

  “You keep saying that!” LaBerge shouted. “Don’t you understand? We offer you a better life! You know what it is like out there. It’s a harsh, miserable existence. Here, the challengers are pampered and fed like they never could be on the outside. Here you have music and art and servants at your disposal. Can you imagine how wonderful that is? And yes, all right, every so often we ask that you compete in our games. And there is some risk. But is that so much to ask in return for living the life of a king?”

  “Well… yes,” I said. “I told you, I’m not playing your games.”

  LaBerge smacked his hand on the table and shouted, “You will!”

  “Sit down!” Veego barked.

  “He is making me very upset!” LaBerge yelled back at her. “Get used to it,” I said cockily.

  LaBerge shot me an angry look. Before he could say anything, a door opened on the far side of the room. I glanced up, expecting to see Twelve, or Thirteen or Fifteen-and-a-Half or whatever, or possibly another dado cop charging in to see what all the shouting was about. It was none of these. Hurrying in with an armload of papers was a young woman. She was wearing an outfit similar to Veego’s. It was deep blue, with long pants and sleeves, and a jacket of the same color that came to her waist. Her clothes weren’t all that different from what the people wore outside in the city, but looked a bit more stylish. Or better made. Or something. Maybe it was the way they fit her, like the outfit was perfectly tailored. Yes, that’s the best way I can describe the outfit, and the woman, for that matter. Perfectly tailored. There wasn’t a wrinkle in sight. She had straight brown hair that was combed and parted on the side, and fell to just below her ears. Not one hair was out of place. She was pretty, too. Her eyes were big and brown and, I’m not quite sure how else to describe this, but they were… alive. Unlike most of the other people I had seen out there in the city of Rune, this woman looked like she had some spark. If I were to guess, I’d say she was a couple of years older than me. Maybe eighteen? Or nineteen? I’m not even sure how old I am anymore! She entered the room and walked quickly toward us. She seemed to be on a mission.

  “Veego, LaBerge,” she said in a quick, professional way. “Good afternoon. I have the budget estimates from the trustees.”

  She walked quickly past LaBerge without giving him a second look. This woman was all business. She didn’t have time for that goof. She didn’t notice me, either. She went right to the brains of the operation. Veego. She stood over the woman and held out the stack of white pages.

  “I trust these will meet with your approval,” she said.

  Wow, how stiff could you get? Veego looked up at her for a long moment without speaking. The woman looked kind of awkward standing there because Veego didn’t take the pages.

  “Can’t you see we are in the middle of our meal?” Veego finally said. She may have sounded calm, but her voice was cold. “You come into my home, unannounced, uninvited, and proceed to annoy us with your personal concerns. Have you no manners?”

  The woman blinked. Her efficient, professional appearance was shaken. “I–I apologize,” she said nervously. “I was told that getting these to you was triple important. I should have known you were-“

  Veego grabbed the papers out of her hand. “Oh, be quiet!” she spat at the woman. Veego looked through the pages, and the woman backed away.

  “Don’t move!” Veego ordered.

  The woman froze. I felt sorry for her. She was totally intimidated. I can’t say that I blamed her. While Veego scanned the pages and LaBerge played with his Runkle toy, the woman stood there, looking uncomfortable. I watched as her eyes wandered around the room. When she finally saw me, she gasped and jumped back with such surprise you’d think I had shouted “Boo!”

  Veego didn’t look up from the papers as she said, “Miss Winter, this is our new Challenger Red. Challenger Red, this is Nevva Winter.”

  Nevva Winter. Interesting name. She opened her mouth as if to say something to me, but no words came out. That was weird. I knew the term “speechless,” but had never actually seen it happen.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t close her mouth either.

  LaBerge said in a singsong voice, “Nevva, Nevva, works all day, but doesn’t have the time to play.”

  “Close your mouth. Miss Winter,” Veego said without looking at her.

  Nevva Winter blinked. Seeing me had really thrown her for some reason. “I–I knew that the new challenger was due, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon,” she said, trying to put her efficient face back on. “In fact, he’s mentioned on page four of the file I brought and-“

  Veego tossed the pages into the air.

  “Unacceptable,” she declared.

  The pages fluttered to the floor, spreading everywhere. LaBerge laughed and clapped. Idiot. Nevva Winter tried to catch the floating pages but only managed to grab a few before they hit the ground.

  “Please, Veego!” she implored. “They’re in a specific order-“

  “We have increased profits by twenty percent for each of the last seventeen quads,” Veego hissed through clenched teeth. “Those are unheard-of numbers, and if your panel of ignorant keepers doesn’t recognize that, LaBerge and I would be all too happy to return home and let any of our substandard competitors take on the challenge of following in our immensely successful footsteps.”

  Nevva Winter quickly scooped up the pages and pushed them together, trying not to wrinkle them. It looked like she was trying to put them in order at the same time.

  “Yes!” LaBerge added. “Let’s see how their precious profits look without us!”

  “That appears to be a possibility,” Nevva Winter said.

  “Huh?” LaBerge grunted in surprise.

  While Nevva Winter gathered the papers, she said, “Maintaining this operation has proven to be very costly. I’m afraid that the trustees are trying to find some way to justify continuing their relationship with you.”

  “What?” LaBerge shouted in horror. His bravura was gone. “They’re going to throw us out of our castle?”

  Veego slowly got to her feet and stood over Nevva Winter.

  “Was that a threat. Miss Winter?” she said in about as cold a tone as I’d ever heard.

  Nevva Winter shoved the last paper onto the stack and got to her feet. She was so nervous she wouldn’t even look Veego in the eye. “I’m only telling you what the trustees have been discussing,” Miss Winter said, her voice cracking. “I’m only their assistant. I don’t make policy. But I can tell you that for every trustee who supports you, another thinks you should be doing better.”

  “That’s impossible!” LaBerge shouted. “How can we do better than perfect?”

  Nevva Winter looked right at Veego for the first time. Though she was knee-knocking-nervous, she didn’t blink. “I’m only passing along the information,” she said. “Perhaps you should talk to the trustees yourself.”

  Veego stared at her for a moment, then backed away and walked toward me. “This gaming operation has been run longer and more successfully than any other on Quillan,” she said. It seemed like she was holding back anger. “That’s because I know what I’m doing. I have the experience, I have the resources, I have the games, and most of all, I know talent. I would very much like to meet with the trustees. Maybe then I can ask them why they have decided to interfere by telling me who to use in my competitions.”

  “They aren’t trying to interfere-,” Nevva Winter said.

  “But they are!” Veego shot back. “The trustees want the games to be competitive, yet they force me to use challengers who are unprepared. You saw the last Tato match. It was a travesty. Challenger Yellow was no match for Challenger Green. He wasn’t ready, yet the trustees forced me to use him!”

  Challenger Yellow. She was talking about the Traveler from Quillan… a guy I never met and stil
l didn’t know the name of. I fought back the urge to jump up and scream, “Why did you kill a Traveler?” But that wouldn’t have helped anything. I bit my lip, grabbed the chair, and did all I could to keep from exploding. That got even tougher when Veego put her hand on my shoulder. My skin crawled.

  “And now they’ve sent me a new challenger,” she said. “Challenger Red. Did you know he was almost killed in our Hook gauntlet? Hmmm? He nearly failed the simplest of tests. Children have done better. Now your trustees expect me to stage the next Grand X with him?”

  She was getting worked up. So was I. X? More importantly, how did these trustee people know about me? Who were they?

  “Please tell your oh-so-wise employers something,” Veego continued. “I will not damage our reputation by presenting an inferior product.”

  “No one is asking you to-“

  “If they want me to play Challenger Red, I will. But he must first prove himself in a more challenging test.” She nodded to LaBerge.

  LaBerge clapped his hands together like a giddy child and ran to the side wall of the banquet room, where a giant tapestry hung. He grabbed a velvet rope that dangled from the ceiling and turned back to me, saying, “You should be honored. Challengers don’t usually enter the Tock arena until much later in their training.”

  I looked to Veego and asked, “What is this?”

  Veego returned to her place at the head of the table. “You have come highly praised for your abilities. Challenger Red,” she said. “I, for one, have yet to see why.”

  “Who praised me?” I asked.

  Veego didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. I was pretty sure of the answer. I smelled Saint Dane in this mess.

  “Veego, please, this isn’t necessary,” Nevva Winter said nervously. “Challenger Red will be given adequate time to prepare for the Grand X.”

  “Who will guarantee me that?” Veego snarled at her. “You? I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you and I don’t believe the trustees. I’m left with no choice. He will either prove himself worthy right here and now, or die trying.”

  Uh-oh.

  LaBerge yanked on the velvet rope. The tapestry pulled up toward the ceiling like a retracting window shade. Behind it, a large entry way was revealed, beyond which was another playing arena. Standing in the center of the arena were three guys wearing different color jerseys. Challengers Blue, White and Black. They each held long metal rods about seven feet long. Weapons. I was about to play another game, and this time I wasn’t going to be up against a mindless dado.

  “Please, Veego, ” Nevva Winter begged. “This is totally irregular.”

  “What if I don’t want to play?” I asked.

  “Nothing would make me happier,” Veego said. “It would prove to the trustees that you are unworthy, and you would be executed.”

  Oh.

  “And what happens if I play and lose?” I asked.

  Veego smiled and said, “That would also make me happy, because the situation would be resolved.”

  “You don’t want to lose at Tock,” Nevva Winter cautioned me.

  That sounded ominous. I was beginning to think that making Veego happy meant making me dead. Not a lot of choices. Like I wrote to you guys before, on Quillan you play. You win, or you pay.

  It looked like Challenger Red was about to make his debut.

  (CONTINUED)

  QUILLAN

  “I thought I passed the test,” I said to Veego. “Why are you putting me through this?”

  “Because I don’t like being told how to run my business,” Veego answered with a snarl. “I don’t know why the trustees are forcing me to use you in the competitions. Their meddling will be the ruin of my games.”

  “And mine!” LaBerge threw in.

  “So you want me to get beaten before I can ruin your games?” I asked. “Is that it?”

  “Perhaps,” Veego said. “Then again, I’m not one to miss an opportunity. If it turns out that you actually have some ability, this little diversion will start to build some excitement around you.”

  “Uhhh… what does that mean?” I asked.

  “If you’re going to compete, I want the betting to be strong. That won’t happen unless the people love you… or hate you.”

  “So how are you going to do that?” I asked.

  Veego gave me one of her icy smiles and gestured for me to enter the arena. “Let’s find out.”

  “Veego,” Nevva Winter protested. “This game hasn’t been scheduled. It goes against every protocol I can think of that-“

  “Then stop thinking. Miss Winter,” Veego said coldly.

  A million questions flashed through my head. Who were the trustees? I guessed that in some way they were the bosses of Veego and LaBerge, but what kind of business were they running that had to do with these deadly games? Whatever it was. Saint Dane was somehow involved. He had to be. Who else would know about me?

  The answer to that mystery was going to have to wait. I first had to survive this latest challenge that Veego was throwing at me.

  “This way. Challenger Red,” LaBerge said while gesturing into the arena.

  I thought about running away, but the two dados that suddenly appeared behind me ended that idea. I was trapped. I stood up from my chair and walked toward the arena entrance. Nevva Winter stood with her arms folded tightly in front of her. She seemed genuinely nervous about what was going to happen. Join the club. I wasn’t sure if she was worried about me, or about what her bosses would say if something bad happened to me.

  I stopped right in front of her and asked, “Can you stop this?”

  Her gaze darted around like she didn’t want to make eye contact. “I–I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I said. “You owe me.” What the heck? I thought I’d throw a little guilt on her. If she hadn’t shown up, I probably wouldn’t have been headed for another showdown. Maybe if she felt responsible, I might be able to get help from her later. If there was a later for me, that is.

  “This is so exciting!” LaBerge squealed. The guy really was annoying.

  As I walked, I tried to subtly stretch my muscles. I had no idea what to expect inside that arena, but I needed to be ready. I stepped through the portal into what looked like a big gym. It was at least a couple of times larger than the double-gym back at Davis Gregory High, so that made it about the size of four basketball courts. The black floor felt like firm rubber that sprang back a little when pressed. Looking up, I saw that the ceiling soared up many stories. There looked to be a jumble of apparatus up there that would probably be lowered when needed, just like in a gym. High up on one wall I saw a big black screen that was very much like the screens on top of the buildings out in the city. But this screen didn’t show any images or geometric patterns. Instead there was a slew of brightly colored numbers in vertical columns. I had no idea what any of it meant, other than the two words that were above the columns of numbers: challenger red.

  “What’s all that?” I asked Veego.

  “That shows us how the wagering is running for the match,” she answered. “With some contests, challengers compete against each other and wagers can be placed on either. With Tock, wagers are placed on a single challenger to either win or lose.”

  “You mean all the people out there are going to bet on me?” I asked, stunned. “No,” she said. That was a relief.

  “Most will be wagering against you.” Oh. Great.

  The three other challengers stood inside a large circle marked on the floor; it looked to be about twenty yards in diameter. The challengers were spaced evenly apart from one another and about five yards inside the edge of the circle. Each stood in a square outline on the floor, holding one of those long metal weapons. Halfway between each challenger was a pedestal that rose about five feet in the air. On each was a purple and yellow flag. These pedestals and the challengers formed a circle within a circle.

  “So how does this game work?” I asked
Veego.

  “Very simple!” LaBerge answered. He bounded into the circle of challengers. In the very center of the ring was another circle on the floor. This one was about three feet in diameter. LaBerge jumped inside this tiny circle and said, “You begin here, in the dead center. When the counter starts-” He looked up to the wall opposite the betting scoreboard, where I saw another, smaller screen. On cue, the number “120” appeared. “You’ll have a hundred and twenty clicks to gather each of the flags and return them here to the center. Couldn’t be simpler!” To demonstrate, he ran to one of the pedestals, grabbed a flag, and ran back to the center circle.

  He was right. It couldn’t be simpler. But I didn’t think for a second that it was going to be that easy. The three challengers with the weapons pretty much confirmed that. I didn’t think they were there as cheerleaders. Blue, White, and Black. There was nothing unique about them, though they did look to be in pretty good shape. They all seemed to be roughly my age, maybe a little older. There was nothing about them that screamed out: “Highly trained, awesome competitor.” That was good. Maybe this would be a level playing field after all. Or playing court. Or gym. Or whatever the heck it was.

  The one thing that stood out about them was their attitude. The three of them stood straight, like soldiers, looking straight ahead, showing no emotion. These guys definitely had their game faces on.

  “What about them?” I asked.

  LaBerge lifted his hand into the air and said, “The challengers are what make Tock interesting.” Yeah, I figured that.

  While LaBerge stood with his hand in the air, I saw something being lowered from the ceiling. There were three large silver balls on the ends of ropes. Each was about the size of a beach ball and they were tied together. The cluster descended toward LaBerge, who reached up and untied them. Instantly the balls swung free. The ropes they dangled from seemed positioned roughly above the outline of the circle, so the balls swung outward. All three swung right toward a challenger. They each put their metal weapons down on the ground and grabbed the ball that came their way.