The chess thing went down like this.
Lanaya and Jin are in the game space, a room that changes shape and layout depending upon the game being played — in this case, chess. Chess is one of those deals that looks real simple, but isn’t. You move sixteen pieces around a board divided into sixty-four squares. Some pieces, like Drones, can only move one square at a time; others, like Crooks or Wizards, can go all the way across the board in different directions. The object is to trap the piece they call the Master.
Jin says it’s an ancient game based on strategy and warfare and stuff, one of the few games to survive the Big Shake more or less intact. There are hologram versions with animated pieces as big as human beings, if you want, but Jin says that’s just a distraction, because the real game is played inside your head.
“Great players don’t even need a board or pieces,” he tells Bean. “They can visualize an entire game, with every possible combination of moves.”
He’s explaining all this as if he’s just being polite — he doesn’t really expect a normal like Bean to understand.
While he’s talking, Lanaya moves one of her pieces and says, “Checkmate.” That means she won. “I almost never beat Jin,” she tells me, “but apparently he’s distracted.”
Jin smiles like it doesn’t matter who wins, but when they start the next game he’s all business, thinking so hard sometimes it takes him five minutes to move a piece. It works, because he’s got Lanaya in a checkmate in exactly ten moves.
“See?” she tells me. “I told you he was good. I like to play chess for fun, but Jin takes it very seriously. He’s one of the best players in Eden.”
“Nonsense,” he says. “There are at least six players who are better than me.” But the way he smiles, you can tell he’s pleased.
When Bean asks if she can play chess, too, he seems happy that she’s interested. “Why don’t you play with your foster brother,” he suggests. “I’ll act as a kind of referee, to make sure you get the moves right.”
“No,” I tell him. “You’d better play Bean. She could beat me easy.”
Jin chuckles and shakes his head, as if amused at my stupidity. “How do you know if you haven’t played?” he asks.
“Believe me, I know,” I say.
So it ends up with Jin playing Bean while me and Lanaya watch. Ryter is off on his own, doing something he calls “making notes” for his book and Bree is taking care of Little Face, which both of them seem to enjoy.
Anyhow, at first Jin tries to take it easy on Bean, like he doesn’t want to discourage her from trying to learn the game. Which is so complicated, he says, it takes years and years to get really good at it. So imagine his surprise when he discovers that he can’t beat a twelve-year-old girl from the Urb.
“Did you really mean to do that?” he asks, perking up when she makes a particular move about five minutes into their first game.
“Uh-huh,” Bean says. “You’ll see.”
“I’ll see?” Jin chuckles to himself, like she can’t possibly mean what she’s saying.
Seven moves later, he finds out.
“Oh this is fun!” Bean says, knocking over one of his taller pieces.
Jin stares at the board, then he stares at her.
“Another,” he says, setting up the pieces for a new game.
They end up playing for hours. Bean never does beat him again, because from then on he takes her seriously. But he’s never able to beat her, either. All of their games end in what they call a “standoff,” which means neither side can win. And Jin looks like he doesn’t know whether to be angry or ecstatic.
“Do you see?” he demands of Lanaya. “Do you understand what happened here?”
Nobody gets a bigger kick out of seeing Jin get beat than Lanaya. “Oh, I saw what happened,” she tells him. “But I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
“But she’s a normal!” Jin exclaims.
“Yes,” says Lanaya. “And a normal can’t be smarter than a proov, is that what you’re saying?”
Jin shakes his head as if he’s confused. Confused not so much by what Lanaya said, but by his own feelings. “I try to have an open mind on these matters,” he says, “but I’ve been playing chess since I was five years old, and she just learned the game today. How is it possible?”
“Mmm-hmm,” Lanaya says, her eyes bright and knowing. “Do me a favor. Don’t say anything more. Just think about it. Think about what it means, if a girl from the Urb can beat you at your best game.”
Jin starts to say something, then changes his mind. “I’ll do that,” he promises. “I’ll think on it.”
Bean gives me a look that says, “Are these people zoomed or what?”
The truth is, I’ve got no answer. We’ve been here for a week and I still don’t know what it’s like to be a proov, or to think like one.
Okay, here’s the deal on Little Face. Like I said, Bree’s spending a lot of her time taking care of him, which is sort of unnecessary, really, because he’s pretty good at taking care of himself. Not that you’d know it when Bree’s around. Then all he wants to do is get hugs, or make signs that he’s hungry, or smile and dance around until he has her complete attention. Whatever he’s doing, it’s working, because not long after the chess game ends, Bree marches into the game space and makes an announcement.
“I’m adopting this child,” she says, in a way that makes me think she’s been working herself up to it for hours. “I’ve made my decision. Don’t try to talk me out of it!”
Poor Jin, he’s getting it from all sides. He can’t win at his favorite game, his daughter’s giving him the sort of advice that a parent usually gives to a child, and now his luvmate announces she’s going to adopt a normal. And not just any normal, but a kid who had to raise himself, more or less like an animal. A kid who doesn’t know how to talk, and never had a bath until Bree scrubbed him clean.
“Bree, Bree,” Jin says, exasperated.
“Don’t you ‘Bree’ me!” she answers right back, her eyes flashing.
“But you know the rules,” he reminds her.
Bree crosses her arms. Being angry makes her even more beautiful, which means that looking at her almost takes my breath away. “What I know is that this child needs me, and I need him.”
“Surely there are others who can care for him. His own people.”
“He doesn’t have any people!” she exclaims. “And you’re not listening. I need him.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.
“I didn’t know it until I saw him standing in our doorspace, but I’ve missed raising a child. I love Lanaya and I know that she loves me, but she’s never really needed me, not the way this child does.”
“Bree! What a terrible thing to say!”
Lanaya steps in, placing a hand on Jin’s shoulder. “Father,” she says, softly but forcefully, “I never call you that. It’s a backtimer word we don’t use. Nevertheless, you are my father, and Bree is my mother, and I love you both dearly. But what Bree says is true. I was designed to be a Master, eventually. That means I’m unusually self-reliant, even for a proov. It can’t have been much fun raising me.”
Bree suddenly looks crushed. Tears leak from her beautiful eyes. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she says. “You were a lovely child, Lanaya. It was fascinating watching you grow up. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Lanaya rushes to embrace her. “Oh, Mother, dear, I know you love me. But I understand. I really do.”
Bree wipes at her tears and laughs. “You’ve always understood, Lanaya, almost from the moment you were born. I’ve often felt like you were the contributor and I was the child.”
“Enough!” says Jin. “Both of you, please! The problem isn’t with either one of you. The problem is with the child! It simply won’t be allowed, no matter how much you say you care for him. And as to what the child really wants, we can’t know that, can we? Because he can’t tell us.”
Jin crosses his arms, as if h
e thinks he’s had the final word on the subject. But he hasn’t, not quite.
Because that’s the exact moment when Little Face decides to start talking.
“I love Bree,” the little boy says, as fierce as a latchboss declaring war. “I love Bree and Bree loves me.”
And that pretty much settles the question.
IT’S NOT LIKE LITTLE FACE suddenly turned into a chatterbox or anything. He still doesn’t talk much. Only when it’s very important and he can’t make himself understood any other way. Bree says Little Face isn’t a proper name and when he gets a little older she’ll help him choose a real name. Jin pretty much keeps out of it, although I notice he’s started to treat the boy like his own child. So maybe it will all work out, if they can figure out how to get around the rules.
Meanwhile me and Bean and Ryter spend a lot of our time outside. We discovered that the coolest thing in the world is to walk on grass in our bare feet. Grasswalking. It feels sort of tickly and smooth and alive somehow, even though it’s just this green stuff that grows out of the ground. Bean says she’s never seen anything so beautiful, and that the only things she likes as much as grass are the flowers and trees, and maybe the blue sky.
“Did they have these things before they invented Eden?” she wants to know.
“Oh yes, I think so,” Ryter tells her. “They say that before the Big Shake, trees grew right in the middle of the Urb. Grass and flowers, too.”
Bean smiles and shakes her head. She thinks maybe it’s just backtimer talk, but she’s too polite to say so.
In my opinion what’s happened to Bean is even more amazing than the stuff that grows out of the ground. Her skin is no longer pale or sick-looking. She’s strong enough to run and jump and turn cartwheels, which she hasn’t been able to do since she was, like, five years old.
“I’m a new me,” she brags. “New and improved.”
“Don’t let the proovs hear you say that,” I warn her. “They think they’re the only ones who are improved.”
We’re walking, all three of us, along what they call a “brook.” A brook is like a river only smaller, and if you stick your bare feet in the clear, cool water, it feels good. Ryter says sticking his old feet in the water makes him feel younger, even though the water makes you wrinkle after a while.
“How come you’re always talking about being old?” Bean wants to know.
“Because I am old,” Ryter says. “I don’t really mind the ‘old’ part. I’m just worried I won’t have enough time to finish my book.”
Bean nods wisely, as if she expected that particular answer. “But would it ever really be finished?” she asks. “I thought the book was your life, and it would only end when your life ends. Except it won’t really end, because people will read it and remember, so in a way you’ll live forever.”
At first I think he’s offended, but after a while a smile slowly creases his aged face. “Thank you, Bean,” he says, and pats her hand.
“For what?”
“For reminding me of why I’m a writer.”
They come for us one day while Bean and me are climbing apple trees. An apple is this truly delicious edible that actually grows on trees, and it always tastes better if you pick it yourself. The only thing better is if your best friend picks it for you.
Bean finds the best apple in our tree and hands it up to me. “You know what this tastes like when you first bite into it?” she asks.
“No, what?”
“Blue sky.”
“You’re zoomed.”
“You ever eat blue sky?”
“No,” I admit.
“Try it sometime,” she says. “It’s apple-flavored.”
There’s no arguing with Bean when she gets hold of a silly idea, so I don’t bother trying. Besides, I kind of like the idea. I’m also thinking it would be cool if we could just stay in the tree and never come down. Which is probably at least as zoomed as thinking that the sky tastes like apples.
We talk about everything while we’re up in the tree munching on apples. Stuff from when we were kids, and dumb things Charly said, and what it was like after I got banished, and my adventures with Ryter and the boy, and the rats in the Pipe, everything. Except one thing: We don’t talk about what will happen if we have to return to the Urb. We don’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Because once you’ve felt grass under your feet and tasted blue sky, well, you never want to go back.
We’re counting clouds when they come for us. At first we think it’s one of the clouds, the way it floats through the air. But as the thing gets closer it looks something like a floating takvee without the armor. Except unlike a takvee, it doesn’t make any noise, just a soft whoosh as it passes through the air.
Later I find out it’s called a skydee, for Sky Flight Device, and it works on some sort of magnetic repulsion deal. I’m thinking maybe Lanaya arranged to give us a ride, so we can see Eden from the air. But it’s not it at all. Not even close.
The skydee comes to a gentle stop beneath the apple trees, hovering just above the grass. The little craft opens, and two proovs get out. Big male types designed to have extra muscles. And unlike most proovs, they’re not dressed in white tunics. They’re wearing what looks like security uniforms. Enforcers.
They stand under the apple tree and look up at me. One of them goes, “Are you the normal called Spaz?”
“Yes.”
“You and your companions have been summoned by the Masters. You must come at once.”
Apparently they don’t trust us to obey, because when me and Bean get down from the tree, they place us in body-cuffs and take us away, as if we’re criminals.
Which, as it turns out, we are.
SO WE GET TO FLY in the skydee, but it isn’t much fun. The enforcers shove us down into the bottom of the vehicle where we can’t see anything, and when Bean starts to complain, they go, “Silence!” in a way that makes my stomach melt, so we both shut up until we get there.
“There” is a place called Stadium. Only it’s nothing like the ruins of the old stadiums in the Urb, which are huge piles of crumbling concrete and rusted steel. Stadium is really a small, curving hillside that looks like it was scooped out by a giant spoon. When we get there, the green hillside is already covered with people — proovs, of course — and the enforcers tell us they’ve all been summoned, too, just like us.
“So they all arrived in body-cuffs?” I ask, and one of the enforcers looks at me like I’m some sort of talking animal, not worth answering.
The enforcers release the body-cuffs, and Bean and me stumble into this smooth black circle at the bottom of the hillside. The surface under our feet is polished like a dark mirror, but not slippery somehow.
Ryter is already in the black circle, waiting for us. He’s holding his walking stick and standing tall in a fresh white tunic. His white beard ruffles in the breeze, and he looks fierce and proud and very old all at the same time.
“Don’t leave the circle,” he warns us. “The edges are charged, and you’ll get a rude shock.”
“Ryter!” I say. “What’s going on?”
Ryter gazes up at the gathering crowd of proovs. There’s barely an empty space on the hillside. What makes it really weird is, before this we haven’t ever seen more than five or six proovs in the same place at the same time. Now there are thousands of them out there. We hear the murmur of their voices, and we can almost feel the force of thousands of proovs staring at us, wanting to know who we are and how we dared enter Eden.
“What’s going on? Judgment Day is here,” Ryter says. “A kind of trial, I assume.”
“Trial? What’s a trial?”
“From the backtimes,” Ryter explains. “It was a way of deciding if you broke the rules, and what the punishment should be if you did.”
The latchbosses make all those decisions in the Urb. And since a latchboss also makes his own rules, you never really know until you’ve broken one, and then it’s too late.
“They have a different way of enforcing things here,” Ryter says. “Jin explained it when they came for me. It seems we’ve been found in violation of the rule forbidding normals in Eden. Apparently most proovs think we should be banished, and the sooner the better. But before a judgment can be made, all the people of Eden must hear the evidence, make recommendations, and then bear witness to the final decision of the Masters.”
“Where’s the boy?” Bean wants to know, looking anxiously around. “Where’s Little Face?”
“Hidden away,” Ryter says, keeping his voice low, and making a sign that we should speak no more about it.
So Bree hasn’t given up on her promise to raise him like one of her own. Which makes me like her even more than I did before.
“What about Lanaya?” I ask.
“She’s in trouble, too,” Ryter says. “She’ll have to answer to the Masters.”
All of a sudden a hush falls in Stadium as the gathering proovs go silent. They’re all staring at something beyond us, and I turn in time to see what they’re watching.
Right behind us a small hill is coming unhinged.
I swear, that’s what it looks like. A section of grass tilts up like a lid, then a circular platform rises out of the ground. The platform seems to be made out of the same mirrored black surface we’re standing on, but the shape of it changes and expands as it rises. Then when the whole thing has unfolded from the ground, the platform slowly pivots around until it faces Stadium.
On the platform, seated in transparent thrones, are the seven Masters of Eden. I know without being told who they are. They seem to radiate power and authority without saying a word, or making a threat.
Some of the Masters are young, but at least four of the seven are quite old. They don’t look geezer-old like Ryter, with his wrinkled skin and missing teeth, but they have the fragile appearance of old age. Even the very old ones still look perfect somehow, as if age has sharpened their focus on being alive.
Standing before them, looking beautiful and angry but not afraid — never afraid — is our friend Lanaya. I try to catch her attention, but she seems to be avoiding my eyes on purpose, like she doesn’t want to be distracted.
The Last Book in the Universe Page 12