“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 still 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.