The Quillan Games (31 page)

“The games,” I said.

“Exactly! The games provide entertainment for the people and a constant source of revenue for the company. Blok takes a percentage of every bet placed, no matter who wins.”

“But people are betting with more than money,” I said. “I've seen people carted off after losing a bet.”

“Oh, yes,” Saint Dane said, laughing. “These people have very little money to wager. Of course that doesn't stop them from gambling. The chance of improving their sorry lives is too tempting. Remember: greed. Though they may not have money to wager, they do have something that is much more valuable—their lives. When people make the ultimate bet, a win means they might have more food for their families. Food grown, processed, and sold by Blok, of course. Or they might
win a higher-paying job . . . with Blok. Or a larger home . . . built by Blok. The possibilities are endless.”

“What if they lose?” I asked.

“Several things could happen,” Saint Dane said. “Usually they are retrieved and sent to an area of Blok where their particular talents are needed. Laboring with little or no pay increases the bottom line for Blok. The losers could be separated from their families for years—in Second Earth terms. Or they could be sent for medical research, or to the tarz.”

“What is the tarz?” I asked.

“Tarz is power,” he answered. “You might call it electricity. Tarz powers the territory. But it's volatile, much like nuclear power on Second Earth. Cleaning up the waste produced in a tarz factory is the lowest job there is. The good news is no one works in a tarz factory for long, because the waste is poisonous. I understand it is a painful death.”

I had to sit down on one of the cold black couches. It was like the weight of what Saint Dane was telling me was pushing me down. He had just described a territory that was a living nightmare. The people of Quillan were zombielike slaves to the greedy people who ran Blok. A store.

Saint Dane added, “I've often seen cases where fathers wager with the lives of their children.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes. The lure of the big win is simply too much to resist. Greed, Pendragon.”

My thoughts went back to that arcade, where the guy beat the video game and was reunited with a little kid. I wondered if he had bet with the life of that kid. I felt sick to my stomach.

“I'd like to say you've already lost Quillan,” Saint Dane said, trying to sound sympathetic. I know he wasn't. “But I'm afraid that isn't entirely true. Quillan never had a chance. The
territory will crumble and when it does, I'll be here to help them rebuild. I have wonderful plans. You have to admit that the people here have made a horrible mess of things. Under my guidance Quillan will once again become strong. Even you have to admit they need help. I can give it to them, Pendragon. I can help all the territories. What's happening here on Quillan isn't unique. Time and again it's been proved that the people of the territories are incapable of guiding their own destinies. All I want to do is help. Is that so bad?”

He said this last with a gleam in his eye that made me want to punch him. I think I would have, if I thought it would do any good.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.

The demon walked back to the window and gazed out at the grim city. “I want to see how strong you really are, and the only way to do that is to see you lose.”

“I thought the territory was already lost.”

“Not the territory, fool!” Saint Dane snapped. “You!” He lost his cool for a second, but quickly regained it. “I'll admit, I'm surprised by how you've disrupted my plans on so many of the other territories. Press said you would be strong, but I had no idea just how resourceful you could be. Bravo! If I were being perfectly honest, I'd have to say I thought you would have given up by now. But that's not the case, is it?”

“No, it isn't,” I said.

Saint Dane was actually complimenting me, and admitting his own failures. How weird was that?

“I have a proposition for you,” he said. “I know you don't have to compete in the Quillan games. I'm sure you'd find a way to escape from those Veego and LaBerge buffoons. But I'd like you to compete in this extravaganza they call the Grand X.”

“Really?” I said sarcastically. “Is that all? Why sure! I'd do anything for you, old pal!”

Saint Dane laughed. “Will it be that simple?”

“In your dreams.”

“I thought not.” He chuckled.

“Then what's the point?”

“The point is I want you to lose!” he snarled.

The guy's emotions changed on a dime. I never knew when he was going to laugh, or get all angry and try to beat me into jelly. “You've gotten strong, Pendragon,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not just in your resolve, but physically. You've become a force that I've grown weary of dealing with.”

“And you know you can't beat me,” I said, getting cocky. “We found that out in the cavern on Zadaa, didn't we?”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But I believe your intensity in battling me was fueled by the emotion you felt over the death of your friend Loor. I'm not so sure you could beat me again.”

“Want to find out?” I asked. If this was turning into a macho contest, I didn't want to lose. Saint Dane stared right into my eyes. I didn't blink. For a moment I thought I saw the image of this Mr. Kayto dude waver, as if Saint Dane was losing his grip on the illusion and turning back into his normal self. Was he going to attack me again? I did a quick mental inventory of the room from memory, thinking about what I could grab as a weapon.

“That may happen someday,” Saint Dane said, backing off. “But not here. Not now.” The moment passed. “I'm offering you a challenge, Pendragon. If you should triumph, which I don't believe you will, then you'll be stronger and more confident than ever. Perhaps as a champion you might even be able to do some good for this miserable territory. Who knows? You have the charisma to do that.”

“But if I lose, I might die,” I said. “Sorry, the upside isn't worth it.”

“Ahhh, but that's where my offer comes in,” Saint Dane said. “What is it that you want most, Pendragon? Other than defeating me, of course. What is the one thing you want that would make the risk worthwhile?”

“Something you can't give me,” I said.

“Which is?”

I debated about telling him the truth. Why should I expose my deepest feelings to my enemy? It might only give him more ammunition to use against me.

Before I had the chance to say another word, he said, “I'll tell you. You want to see your family again.”

That's exactly what I wanted. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised that he knew. He was evil, not a dope.

“Can you do that?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“No,” he said. “But I can offer you the next best thing.”

I couldn't imagine what the next best thing could be, but I wasn't going anywhere until he told me.

“If you compete,” he said, “I will reveal to you the true nature of the Travelers.”

It felt like the room had suddenly closed in around me. I couldn't breathe. My ears rang and my head got light. Did I hear right? Was Saint Dane offering up the holy grail? The demon slowly walked toward me.

“Certainly you must be wondering why all of this has been happening to you,” he said. “I have the answers you're looking for, Pendragon. How far are you willing to go to get them?”

I must have worn the total shock on my face, because Saint Dane laughed.

“Tempting, isn't it?” he said with a chuckle. “Make no mistake, I want you to lose. I want you humiliated. I want you to give up your futile quest and leave me be. I'm admitting that to you. I'm also admitting that I want it so badly, I'm
willing to do what Press would have done, but never got the chance.”

“Because you killed him,” I said.

“Yes, I killed him,” Saint Dane said. “But he promised you'd be together again, didn't he? Wouldn't you like to know how that is possible?”

I nearly fell over. Seriously. Saint Dane's words made me dizzy. The idea that he would reveal who I really was and why I was chosen to be a Traveler seemed impossible. Was it worth it? This wasn't just about losing some dumb game. If I played, I could be killed. But if I survived I'd have answers to the questions that had haunted me since the moment I sat on the back of Uncle Press's motorcycle, headed for my first trip through the flume. I had done everything that was asked of me. I had saved territories. I had suffered through the deaths of friends. I'd risked my life more times than I could count. I had done all of that on faith in the idea that it was the way it was meant to be. And now Saint Dane was offering me the chance to discover the one answer that was beyond my grasp. Learning the truth would give me the strength to keep going, and possibly be the final nail in his coffin. The question was, was I willing to risk my life to get it?

“Yeah, it's tempting,” I said in a small voice. I couldn't lie.

“Of course it is,” Saint Dane said. “I wouldn't believe you if you said otherwise.”

“But I can't do it,” I said.

Saint Dane didn't react. He must have expected I'd say that. “Yes, you can,” he said. “And I believe you will. But not out of curiosity.”

“Then why?” I asked.

Saint Dane took a step closer to me and hissed, “Because after all of your success against me, you are starting to believe you can't lose. Admit it. You're beginning to feel invincible,
aren't you? Especially after Loor cheated death. That's why I'm making this offer, Pendragon. You
can
lose. You
will
lose. In fact, you've already lost.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“Because I've just put you in a no-win situation. If you accept my offer, you will be defeated and quite possibly killed. But if you decline, then you'll show me that your confidence isn't as strong as I suspected. It means you doubt yourself, and that's just as important to me as seeing you beaten at the Quillan games. So you see, either way I win. That's why I'm on Quillan, Pendragon. That's why I lured you here. Now, how are you going to handle this? Hmmm?”

(CONTINUED)

I
didn't get the chance to answer Saint Dane's challenge, because there was a knock on the door.

“I look forward to hearing your decision, Pendragon,” Saint Dane said as he brushed some invisible lint off his suit. He walked back to his desk and called out, “Yes, come in!”

The door opened slowly. LaBerge meekly peered in.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kayto, sir,” he said nervously. “I don't mean to interrupt you, but is everything all right? I mean, should we leave Challenger Red here with you or bring him back to the compound? Whatever you wish.”

“I'm done with him,” Saint Dane said. “He should return with you. Thank you for your concern.”

LaBerge looked surprised that a trustee was being so polite to him. “Oh, thank you,” he said. “I know you're busy. We won't bother you any longer.” LaBerge looked at me and cocked his head, as if to say, “Let's go.”

After what had just happened and all that I'd heard, I wasn't so sure my legs would hold me. I slowly got to my feet
and didn't topple over, I'm happy to report. Saint Dane was sitting at his desk, already engrossed in reading a report of some kind. But I knew it was an act. He wasn't thinking about some blah blah report from Blok. He was thinking about me.

“Not gonna happen,” I said to him. “I won't do it.”

Saint Dane looked at me and smiled. “Then my life just got much easier because I've proven that you are indeed a coward. Good day.”

I walked toward the door, and LaBerge. The confusion on his face was obvious. I didn't say a word; I just walked past him into the corridor.

“Good day, Mr. Kayto,” LaBerge said subserviently as he backed out. “I'm sorry to have disturbed you.”

“Close the door,” Saint Dane barked.

LaBerge quickly closed the door and ran after me. I was already halfway down the hall when he caught up. “What happened back there?” he asked nervously. “You can't talk to a trustee like that!”

“I guess I can,” I shot back at him. “You heard me.”

“Not while you're a challenger,” LaBerge said, trying to be tough. “I will not allow anyone who works for me to be so disrespectful of—”

I grabbed LaBerge by the collar of his goofy green suit and pinned him against the wall.

“Ow!” he complained.

“I don't work for you,” I said. “And I am not a challenger. Get yourself another victim.”

“You're saying that as if you think you have a choice,” he sniveled.

I let the guy go and continued down the hallway toward where I thought the elevator was. I wasn't staying in this building or with these idiot gaming people any longer. I was going to hit the elevator, get outside, and find my way back
to the flume. Saint Dane was right. Quillan was history. I didn't want to spend another minute here. I had no doubt that there would be some dados outside, waiting to take me back to the castle. They were going to have their hands full. I wasn't going back there without a fight. The elevator was there, open. I stepped in and turned around just as LaBerge jumped in after me. The doors closed automatically, and we were on the way down.

The guy stared at me. I don't think he wanted to be alone with me in that elevator. I think he knew I was a raw nerve. If he so much as burped I would have, well, I don't know what I would have done, but I was ready for a fight. Saint Dane's words kept rolling through my head. There was too much to make sense out of quickly. All I knew was I wanted out of there and off of Quillan. That's all I could focus on. Escape. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the blocking diode. I wasn't waiting for Nevva. It was now or never. The little metal clip snapped easily over the loop.