It looked to me like Veego had to stop herself from snapping back at the guy. I didn’t think she was used to being treated like a turd, but she was smart enough not to complain. As much as I detested Veego and her gruesome little operation, I felt sorry for her then. Not a lot, but still. Nobody should be treated like that.
“I understand,” she said in total control of her emotions. “My partner and I are very aware of and respect the trustees mandate to increase profits by 20 percent each quad. A challenge, I must point out, that we have never missed since taking over the gaming operation.”
“Yes, we’re all satisfied with your history,” one of the woman trustees said. “But it is history. With the resources we have provided, we feel as if you should be doing better.”
“Better?” shouted LaBerge, jumping to his feet. “How can we do better than perfect?”
The crowd gasped. LaBerge felt the hot eyes of everyone in the room on him, including those of the trustees. He flinched and smiled. “Forgive me,” he said meekly. “Pay no attention. I’m a fool.”
He sat back down and put his head in his hands. “I’m doomed,” he said to himself.
“Please forgive my overzealous partner,” Veego said, doing damage control. “It is that very passion that is necessary for the inspiration to create such interesting and successful games.”
LaBerge looked up, hopeful. Did the trustees buy that?
“Continue,” the woman trustee said.
I could feel LaBerge’s relief. He had dodged a bullet that he fired himself.
“Thank you,” Veego said. She turned and shot a quick glare at LaBerge that said, “Shut up, idiot.” She then continued, “As you know, the success of our games depends on many things: New and provocative contests that will generate excitement for those who wager; a tightly run organization that keeps expenses down; and perhaps most importantly, talented and athletic challengers who will provide us with well-fought games. It truly does not matter who wins, so long as the competitions are close. That is the only way to maximize wagering on both sides, since Blok benefits either way.”
However the games worked, Blok profited no matter who won. And from what I saw, lots of people bet on the games. Blok must have been making a small fortune by putting on these games. Or maybe a huge fortune.
The woman trustee said, “Challenger Yellow did not live up to expectations.”
She was talking about Remudi. The Traveler. I looked to Nevva, who stood behind the trustees. She looked to the ground.
“We blame ourselves,” Veego said. “He was not adequately prepared and should never have been matched with Challenger Green. Perhaps he should have first battled a dado. That was our mistake. You provided us with superior talent, and we failed.”
That’s not what she said a few days before. She was all sorts of ticked that the trustees told her to put Remudi in the games. I guess she was being politically correct… or a weenie. Maybe that’s the same thing.
“But I am pleased to announce that we have learned from our mistakes,” Veego declared.
She made a motion to Nevva. Nevva pointed a small black remote control at the ceiling. Instantly two big screens lowered on either side of the room. The lights dimmed. Moments later both screens came to life. One showed a challenger running the gauntlet they called “Hook.” The challenger was me. It was a replay of my battle with the dado as I ran through the piston-thumping death chamber. While the crowd watched one screen, the other screen flashed numbers.
Veego announced, “As we speak, this game of Hook is being transmitted throughout Quillan. Look at the numbers. After his incredible triumph at Tock, Challenger Red is already a favorite. Citizens are now wagering on him to win.”
The trustees weren’t watching me run around on screen; their eyes were on the numbers. They looked at one another, nodding. I had no idea what the numbers meant or how the betting was going, but judging from their reactions, they were impressed. I kept my eyes on the numbers too. I didn’t feel like reliving that game, even though I knew how it came out. A minute later it was over. I had survived Hook, again. Both screens flashed winner-challenger red! There was an excited buzz. I guessed the numbers were good.
The lights came back on and the screens retracted into the ceiling. LaBerge was absolutely giddy. He clapped his hands together like an excited little girl.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of Blok,” Veego announced with fanfare. This time the trustees didn’t cut her off. “I present to you the challenger who will make the next Grand X the greatest, the most exciting, and the most profitable in the history of Quillan. The new Challenger Red!”
Everyone applauded. LaBerge grabbed my arm and forced me to stand up. Reluctantly I stood, but it was totally awkward. What did they want me to do? Throw my fists in the air and shout, “I am the greatest! Bring on Green!” No way. I felt more like hiding under a chair. I looked around at the audience. They cheered, but not because they were fans. To them I meant money. If I gave them a great Grand X, it would be good for Blok and probably for everybody who worked there. It didn’t matter if I won, or died. Veego stood on the platform with her hands on her hips. She had a satisfied look on her face, as if showing off her prized possession. Nevva Winter stood behind the trustees, looking uncomfortable. She gave me a small, nervous smile.
The trustees were sizing me up like a racehorse. To them I was nothing more than a dollar sign. They were too cool to be caught up in the excitement of the moment and break out in applause. Not these guys. I looked at each one in turn. They were a grim-looking bunch. From what I could tell, the course of Quillan was very much guided by these ten people. I needed to learn more about them, and how they’d come to power. And how Blok had come to power, for that matter. I looked at each face. All I got back was cold indifference. That is, until I got to the last person.
It was a man who hadn’t been saying anything. Because of that, I hadn’t been paying any attention to him. Until then. Where the other nine looked at me with cold dispassion, this guy had a smile. As soon as my eyes locked on his, I felt a cold jolt shoot up my spine. Maybe it was the way he looked at me. Maybe it was the smile. Or maybe his ice blue eyes gave it away. It could have been all those things, but I think I would have known, no matter what. We held eye contact. He reached a finger up to his forehead and gave me a small salute. He didn’t have to say the words. I knew what he meant: Welcome to Quillan, Pendragon.
The biggest game was on. I had found Saint Dane.
(CONTINUED)
QUILLAN
Before the applause had a chance to die, I felt a firm hand grab my arm. Two dados had appeared next to me and wanted me to go with them. I looked at LaBerge. He shrugged and gave me a confused look. For him, this wasn’t part of the plan. For me, I didn’t know what that plan was anyway, so nothing surprised me. The dado pulled me into the aisle and pushed me toward the trustees. I looked at Veego, who didn’t seem to know what was going on either. The dados gently but firmly shoved me to the front of the clapping audience and toward the same side door that the guy had been dragged out of before. What was happening? A moment before, I was introduced as their big hope of making the Grand X successful. Now I was being hurried out of the room like a criminal. I feared that I would be the next sucker to be shipped off to the tarz.
The applause continued. Nevva Winter leaned over to the woman trustee in the center, speaking quickly. It didn’t look like she expected this either. I hoped she was trying to save me.
I looked to Saint Dane sitting at the end of the row of trustees. He had taken the form of a thin needle-nosed guy with slicked-back dark hair. He didn’t seem concerned at all, though when was Saint Dane ever concerned about my well-being? He actually winked at me. The dados pushed me out of the room and into a long corridor. The door closed behind us, cutting off the sound of the applause.