The Quillan Games (20 page)

The cylinders came out every ten seconds. I looked around for the dado but didn't see him. After every attack he'd hide back in the shadows and give the crushing cylinders their turn to hurt me. He'd played this game before. I hadn't. . . . 41 . . . 40 . . .

The horn sounded as the cylinders from the ceiling crashed down again. I couldn't tell exactly where they were, so I had no way of knowing where to jump to get out of the
way. A descending cylinder grazed my shoulder. Too close. They slammed into the floor, the building shook, and they retracted. I looked to the far doorway to see I hadn't gotten much closer. I had ten blips of the clock before the next cylinders would pile into the room. I figured if I sprinted for it, I'd make it.

The dado must have sensed this. I wondered if he had done this enough times to know what to expect from his victims. I had barely started to run when I felt the sting of his hook around my waist. He didn't pull me down this time, all he did was yank me a few feet and keep me there. I was still upright. What was he doing? I pulled away, but he held me tight. . . . 34 . . . 33 . . . 32 . . . 31 . . . 30 . . .

Blaring horn. The cylinders came down. I was directly under one. The dado had positioned me to be crushed. I had nowhere to go but directly at the dado. I leaped at him and felt the falling cylinder brush my back. I hit the big guy square in the chest. He barely moved. It was like running into a tree. The guy lifted me up like a doll and heaved me across the floor. I slammed into one of the cylinders—they hadn't retracted into the ceiling yet—spun around, but kept my balance and had the presence of mind to keep running toward the door of light. . . . 27 . . . 26 . . . 25 . . .

The horn blared. What was this? Only five seconds apart now? As the numbers got closer to zero, the pace increased. Worse, as the cylinders shot up toward the ceiling from below, I dodged one, only to see that the overhead cylinders were shooting down at the same time. They were now coming from both directions. My options just got cut in half. One wrong step and I'd be cut in half too. I looked up and down as the cylinders retracted, and learned something valuable. They were each right next to one of the spotlights. I guess I didn't realize this at first because everything had happened
so fast. But now that I understood the program, it was obvious. I knew where
not
to be when the cylinders released. I had to position myself directly in between the lights. Good plan, except that the dado had other plans.

Ooof!
I had been standing in one spot too long. I was a target. The dado threw a cross-body block at me. I felt like I'd gotten hit with a bus. The shot knocked me off my feet. I rolled . . . 22 . . . 21 . . .
horn.

The cylinders shot up and down. I was lying right over one. It hit me in the side, lifting me up. I rolled off and quickly scrambled to get between the lights, as all around me the cylinders blasted the floor and the ceiling. I was trapped in some infernal piston engine. There was no time for finesse; I had to get to the far side. I didn't even want to imagine what would happen if I let the number roll down to zero. Before the cylinders had fully retracted, I started running again.

Horn.

No! It wasn't even five seconds this time. The cylinders shot up and down. It was random now too. The bottom cylinders charged up and a second later the top cylinders hammered down. I was twenty yards from the rectangle of light, but it felt like a mile. I turned back to see where the dado was. He was coming for me, cautiously but steadily. He seemed to know the pattern of the cylinders. He'd jump forward and stand still as cylinders shot up and down around him. Then jump forward again and wait as the cylinders shot by. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn't in any hurry. . . . 18 . . . 17 . . . 16 . . .

I knew that if I started for the door again, he'd attack. If I had any hope of beating this game, and surviving, I'd have to do something drastic.

I attacked the dado.

I guess nobody had ever done that before, because the dado wasn't ready. I lunged for him and grabbed the front of his shirt. I moved so fast and was so close that he couldn't use his hook on me. I held on to his shirt and threw myself backward, pulling him toward me. It must have been a complete surprise because this guy was so big, if he had been ready, it would have been like trying to pull down a tree. But he came with me. As I fell back I jammed my foot into his chest. He tried to pull back but it was too late. I was in control. Gravity helped. I rolled onto my back, thrust my leg into him, and pulled the guy over my head. He was heavy, but I had physics on my side. I flipped him butt-over-head. He slammed the ground hard on his back. At that instant a cylinder came blasting down from the ceiling. The dado had landed in the wrong place. For me it was the exact right place.

The cylinder crushed his leg. I heard it before I saw it. The crunching sound was unmistakable. It took me a second to register that in spite of the fact that his leg had just been crushed, he didn't scream out. He barely even reacted. A quick look at my fallen enemy showed why.

His leg was severed above the knee. Gross, right? Not exactly. There was no blood, no shattered bone, no gore. Jutting from the injury was a tangle of damaged metal, not unlike what I'd seen with the crushed spider near the flume. Any doubt I had before was gone. It was official. The dados were robots.

And he wasn't done. The guy pulled off the remains of his shattered leg, threw it away, and got up. . . . 12 . . . 11 . . . 10 . . .

Robot or no, there was no way he'd catch me on one leg, so I bolted for the door. The cylinders were flying up and down randomly. I ran, dodged, stopped, jumped, and wove
my way toward the door, barely skirting the pumping cylinders. An inch one way or the other and I'd have been hamburger. The clock ticked down to five seconds. I waited for the last cylinder between me and the door to retract . . . and leaped into the rectangle of light.

I hit a revolving door like the one I had come through on the far side. The door spun; I fell through and landed, still in one piece. I stayed on my knees for a second, trying to catch my breath and stop my heart from racing. I didn't even look up for fear I had landed in another game.

“Bravo, Challenger Red!” came a familiar voice.

Yet another voice said harshly, “You nearly failed.”

The first voice scoffed and said, “I never doubted him!”

I took a deep breath and looked to see what I now had to deal with. I was in another large, narrow room, though much smaller than the last. It was brightly lit by daylight streaming in through overhead windows. Yellow and purple flags lined the walls near the high ceiling. On the ground was a long wooden table surrounded by high-backed wooden chairs. It was a medieval-looking banquet hall, complete with huge tapestries on the walls that depicted competitors playing various games. The table was loaded with silver platters full of food and tall silver tankards with drink.

Seated on either end of the long table, kicking back and casually sipping drinks, were Veego and LaBerge.

Veego looked at me coolly and said, “You took much longer than others with fewer qualifications.”

LaBerge was quick to say, “Don't listen to her! You were stupendous! Let me be the first to say that you are now officially a challenger.” He held up a silver goblet as a toast.

“And what if I'd failed your test?” I asked.

LaBerge looked down at his plate. Veego smiled and said, “You'd be dead of course. Now please, join us. I'm sure you've built up a healthy appetite.”

She was wrong. Whatever appetite I'd had was long gone.

(CONTINUED)

I
was ticked. I think that nearly getting crunched would make anybody a little testy. I jumped to my feet and strode for LaBerge. I would have gone for Veego, but she gave me the creeps. The guy saw me coming and his eyes grew wide. He plunked down his goblet, splashing green liquid across the table, and pushed himself back into his chair.

“Don't be foolish!” he said nervously. “The test is over! You passed!”

I grabbed the guy by the front of his robe and pulled him up to me. I don't normally do stuff like that. It's way too bold for me. But after having just barely escaped being turned into paste by those cylinders, I had had enough. If I had any hope of controlling my own future here, I needed to show some backbone. Besides, I knew this wheezy LaBerge guy wouldn't fight back.

“Look,” I seethed. “I am not a challenger, and I will not play your sadistic games.” I stared him right in the eye to show how serious I was. The guy kept glancing away and licking his lips. Wimp.

“I understand your f-feelings, dear boy,” he stuttered. “But I'm afraid you don't have a choice.”

As if on cue, two dados appeared from behind his chair. They loomed over me, staring me down with those dead eyes. I had officially been out-intimidated. LaBerge gave me a smug smile. I let him go and backed away. No way I was messing with those robo dudes. Even if I wasn't exhausted, two-on-one wasn't fair. I'm not so sure one-on-one was fair either.

“What do you mean I don't have a choice?” I asked, trying to sound like I was still being aggressive, which I wasn't.

Veego stood and walked toward the dados. “Leave,” she commanded.

They obeyed instantly. The two robots took a few stiff steps backward, but stayed within striking distance.

“I said leave!” Veego said more forcefully. “This is our guest. There won't be any more trouble.”

The dados backed away and left through a doorway, though I was pretty sure they were standing right outside, waiting to see if there really was going to be any more trouble or not. Sneaky robots. Note to self: No more macho stuff in front of the dados.

Veego stood by LaBerge, but didn't look at him as she spat out with disdain, “Get hold of yourself, ninny.”

I got the feeling that Veego didn't think much of LaBerge either. They looked about the same age, but she treated the guy like an annoying little son. Though my mom never talked to me like that. Then again, I wasn't annoying. Usually. LaBerge straightened his robe and took a drink of the green stuff that was left in his goblet, trying to calm his nerves. Veego, on the other hand, was all sorts of calm. I had the feeling that if I had gone after her instead of LaBerge, she would have stayed just as cool. Veego worried me.

“I'm getting too old for this,” LaBerge grumbled.

“You can go home anytime you wish,” Veego shot back.

Interesting. These guys may have been partners, but they didn't exactly get along. I had to remember that. I figured it might come in useful.

Veego smiled at me, though it looked like it might make her face crack. “You must forgive us,” she said. “We know you are not from the city of Rune, or you would know of us and our enterprise.”

“That's just silly,” LaBerge chirped in. “Everyone knows who we are, no matter where they're from.”

“I don't,” I said flatly.

LaBerge snapped a look at me. I didn't know if it was disbelief, or if he was hurt that I didn't know who he was.

“Where
are
you from?” he asked.

Uh-oh. Not a good time to start telling the truth. But I didn't know enough about Quillan to make something up. “You kidnapped me, stuck me in a room full of creepy clown dolls, then threw me into some game that nearly got me killed. I think it's my turn to ask some questions.”

LaBerge shot a questioning look to Veego. She didn't flinch. He looked back to me and said, “You are very, very wrong, Challenger Red. Those dolls aren't creepy at all!”

“Oh, be quiet!” Veego snapped at him. “If he doesn't understand why he's here, then it will benefit us all to explain.” She gestured to the long banquet table and said, “Please, join us. We will answer all your questions.”

I was torn. I needed to know who these two were and what their connection to Saint Dane was, but on the other hand, they had a hand in killing the Traveler from Quillan. Part of me wanted to grab them and throw them both into the monstrous piston room I had just come through. But that
wouldn't get me any closer to Saint Dane. I needed to suck it up and play it their way.

“All right,” I said. “Where should I sit?”

“In the place of honor of course!” LaBerge said happily, as if we were suddenly buddies. “It's where all the new challengers sit when they first arrive!” He gestured to a high-backed chair that was at the center of the table. I walked over to the chair, glared at LaBerge, then sat in another chair that was closer to the end. I don't know why I did that. Probably just to annoy the guy. He stood there for a second, sniffed, then walked quickly back to his chair at one end of the table.

“Suit yourself!” he said in a huff.

As soon as I sat down, a servant appeared as if from nowhere. It was the same small bald guy in white with the two-tone tie who had shown me to my room. He placed a silver plate and some utensils down in front of me.

“Thanks, Fourteen,” I said.

LaBerge chuckled and said, “That's Thirteen.”

I looked at the bald servant. He looked exactly like Fourteen. Either he was a twin or . . .

“Is he a dado?” I asked Veego.

Veego took her place at the other end of the table.

“They are quite useful, don't you think?” Veego answered. “They always do what they are told and—”

“And they don't ask questions,” LaBerge said with a smug smirk.

I decided to let it go. I still hadn't gotten my mind around the fact that Quillan was loaded with lifelike robots. From what I had seen so far, they were used as servants and policemen. And spiders. Don't forget the spiders.

“Are any of the challengers dados?” I asked.