The Cinderella Theorem (8 page)

I
was struck by the busy-ness of everything. People were rushing around, dropping
off files, and furiously making notes at a wall covered with shelves full of
different colored hourglasses.

“This
is it, Your Highness.” Grimm gestured grandly around the building. “In this one
building, we monitor, record, observe, and analyze the Happiness levels of the
entire kingdom. We make sure everyone stays Happy and if they don’t, we make
them Happy again. Watch this.” Grimm turned toward a busy sector of the room
and shouted, “IS EVERYBODY HAPPY?”

The
entire room of busy people stopped what they were doing and shouted back:
“H-A-P-P-Y!!” Then, just as bizarrely, they returned to what they were doing.

Grimm
grinned mischievously. “I just love doing that. I think it reminds everyone of
what we’re here for. It renews perspective and it’s a great morale booster.”

When
I had sufficiently recovered from the office full of shouting people, I asked,
“Why does everyone have to be happy?”

This
is a logical question. Why
should
you always have to be happy? The pure
mathematical facts are that there will be times in your life when you are not
happy.

Grimm
smiled at the question and motioned for me to follow him. We snaked through a
series of cubicles. “I’ve often wondered that myself. But the fact is, Princess,
these citizens only get to our kingdom because they are going to live Happily
Ever After. When they stop being Happy, they run the risk of vanishing. If they
don’t stay Happy, if we don’t maintain their Happy levels, they vanish, and if
they stay vanished long enough, their tales cease to exist. Have you ever heard
of
The Candlemaker’s Daughter
?”

“No.”

“Exactly.
Many years ago, when my great-great-grandfather was running HEA, Celdan got so
unhappy that she vanished. Several attempts were made to rescue her from Uppish
Senna, but they were unsuccessful. She and her tale are gone forever.”

“Two
Questions: Your great-great-grandfather? And Uppish Senna? The kingdom in the
South?”

“Yes,
my great-great-grandfather. My name is Anderson Grimm. It combines the names of
both the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson. The Grimm Brothers were
particularly skilled at collecting fairy tales; Anderson was a master at
writing his own. I happen to be a descendent of
both
lines. Years and
years ago, your great-great-great-grandfather tracked down one of my ancestors
and recruited him for this job. We’ve been here ever since. Because of our
ancestry, we have an important interest in keeping the tales alive, so we make
great Happiologists.”

So
Grimm is distantly related to these fairy tale creator people. And that
relationship results in a greater probability that he will successfully
convince the characters of his ancestors to remain Happy.

We
arrived at Grimm’s office. “Sit, sit.” He gestured at a chair. “To answer your
second question: Uppish Senna is a kingdom in the corner of the Wildwood, although
it isn’t large, it’s really just a fortress.” He smiled at my look of
confusion. “Let me begin at the beginning. Many, many years ago a writer named
Louisa Austen wrote a fairy tale. Her main character was a sad, little man, and
the tale was quite unpopular with her family and friends. She never published
that story, but several years later, she revised it, cutting out the sad,
little man and replacing him with a much happier character who has adventures,
wins the princess and saves the kingdom.

“
But
,
she didn’t destroy that first draft completely. That sad, little man still
existed and eventually he made his way here, to Smythe’s SFL. He was the first
first-draft character to ever do so. Most of our citizens came from oral tradition.
His name was Tandem Tallis. The same Tandem Tallis whose gift to you caused all
that trouble at your presentation.

“He
was very difficult to live with. Jealousy burned in him against not only the
character that had replaced him, but all true citizens.” Grimm sighed and
looked distant. “This was long before any non-characters had come to live here,
like your family or mine. But something had to be done. This sad, little man
was destroying the kingdom with his pettiness and jealousy, so he was banished
to a corner of the Wildwood, where he still lives today.”

“All
alone?”

Grimm
shook his head. “No. He has managed to attract other discontented people and
even some other rogue first-drafters. And many years ago, tired of feeling
second-best, they rebelled against our kingdom and formed their own country. It’s
a sad story; the people of Uppish Senna think they are Happy, but when they
encounter the true Happiness here, they vanish back to their home. That’s
likely why Levi vanished after you opened your present. He was probably
genuinely giddy with the thought of the anguish you would experience as a
result of his gift, so he vanished.”

“But
our citizens vanish also?”

“Yes.
It’s one of Tallis’ better assaults on our country. He has managed to gain
control of all Unhappiness. If a person is Unhappy, they belong to him. So, if
a citizen starts to become Unhappy, they are in danger of vanishing–being
sucked right into the dungeons of Uppish Senna.”

“But
they can come back, can’t they?”

“It’s
difficult. Very difficult. They have to become Happy enough that the power of
Tallis’ magic loses its hold on them. That’s hard to do in a dank, dark
dungeon, especially if they wound up there in the first place because they were
Unhappy. It’s simpler and far easier to maintain a Happy level here. And that
is what you are going to be doing.”

The
door burst open. Calo stood scowling in the doorway.

“Ah.
Calo. You got my memo, I see?” Grimm motioned to him.

Calo
walked swiftly into the room but didn’t sit down. “Are you sure this is a good
idea?”

Grimm
sighed. “Princess Lily, Calo is here because I think it would be an
excellent
idea for the two of you to be partners.”

Calo
shook his head slightly.

Grimm
ignored him and continued, “Calo is an exceptional Happiologist, Princess, and
since you are the future Protector, I want you trained by the best. Now, Calo,
show the princess to the cubicle you’ll share, and get started. Go make some
people Happy.” Grimm beamed at us as we left.

My
mind rapidly formulated equations as I followed Calo through a maze of
cubicles. 45% chance of seeing Calo? Now, it was 100%
every day
. I redid
my math from the earlier Calo equation. Conclusion: the math was right–the
equation was wrong. I forgot a factor: that illogical, unmathematical magic of
Smythe’s SFL. It’s out to get me.

When
we finally arrived at our cubicle, I could see Grimm’s office just off to the
side. Calo had obviously taken a longer, more difficult route–probably for the
purpose of confusing me. My probability of being happy at this job was
declining rapidly, while my probability of being
annoyed
was increasing
with each passing second.

“Okay.
This is our cubicle. This is our in-box. Here we receive new cases. As you can
see we already have one for today. These reports here are from the Observers.
They give us updates on our client’s levels every hour, on the hour. The
binders on the bookshelf are organized by fairy godmother and the citizens
under her care. They are color coded to match the godmother’s particular color
of sparks. Davin’s is blue. Maggie’s is green. Dori’s is red. Glenni’s is
plaid. Pencil sharpener.” He pointed to it. “Extra pencils are on the desk and
the reference tales are in the archive office. Any questions?”

I
stared at him. He had delivered his entire speech quickly, in a monotone, and
extremely mumbly. Oh yeah. It’s going to be fun working with Calo.

I
sighed and decided to ask a courtesy question. “So when I get here after
school, I check the in-box and deal with the case?”

“Negative.”
Calo sat down in the swivel chair.

Who
says negative?

He
pulled himself up to his desk. “When you come in after school, you check with
me
,
and do what I tell you to do.”

“So,
then the word
partner
has a different meaning in this world?”

Calo
glared at me. “We are not partners. I’m just training you.” He stood up. “Look.
I’m very good at what I do, and I have an extremely successful record here. I
don’t need
or
want your help. So let’s just work together for Grimm’s
sake until we can get out of this.”

“Fine.”
I really don’t like that boy.

Calo
took the file out of the in-box and sighed. “Arthur and Morgan Le Faye. I was
hoping we’d get something easy for your first day, like the Gingerbread Boy.”
He punched the intercom button on the phone. “Hannah, couldn’t you have given
us something else for today? I’ve got the Princess now.”

“Sorry,
Calo.” Hannah answered back. “Arthur will only see you.”

Calo
sighed again. “Fine. Have Holly pull the CD he likes from Audio.”

“You
got it, Calo. Good luck with Morgan.”

“Thanks.
We’ll need it.” Calo swiveled in his chair so he could face me. “Okay, Lily.
Take a seat over there, and let me run through what we’re about to do.”

I
sat.

“Morgan
Le Faye is getting close to vanishing. When she gets like this, she enjoys
sending dangerous presents to her brother, King Arthur. This throws Arthur into
a mood, and then we’ve got a potential double vanishing. Arthur is usually
pretty easy. Play him some disco music and he’s content. Morgan will be a
little trickier.”

Someone
(I assumed Holly) came in and placed a CD on the desk.

“Doesn’t
Morgan Le Faye turn people into horses?” Isn’t that what Macon told me? The one
fact I know about either of these people relates to the creation of enchanted
horses. Promising.

“Not
often.” Calo picked up the CD and started weaving his way through the cubicles
to the front door. After we got on our bikes, he said, “Just to be on the safe
side, though, don’t say anything stupid to Morgan.” He paused, then added,
“Better yet, don’t say anything at all.”

Great.
Mathematically speaking: which is worse, being afraid of turning into a horse,
or realizing that you actually believe it is
possible
to turn into a
horse?

The
ride took seven and three-fourths minutes. Calo spent that entire time sighing
and saying, “Oh. My. Goodness,” every time I asked questions like: “So, King
Arthur is the guy who married Cinderella?”, “But I thought Merlin spun straw
into gold for the shoemaker and his wife?”, or “But if nobody else could pull
the sword out of the stone, how could he do it, if he was much smaller? That
doesn’t make any kind of mathematical sense.”

When
we arrived at Morgan’s castle, Calo said, “For pity’s sake, do not let Morgan
Le Faye know how little you know about her story. Just be quiet and don’t say
or do anything.”

A
little, hunched-back man with a pointed beard and squinty eyes opened the door.
“Calo. Lady Morgan has been expecting you. And I see you’ve brought our new
princess along.”

“Yes,
Kobold. Princess Lily is here to observe–only.”

We
followed Kobold into Morgan’s parlor. She was sitting in an armchair on a raised
platform, sighing deeply. Her long red hair trailed along the floor around her.
Calo bowed, then stepped on my foot to remind me to curtsey.

Morgan
looked at us. “I am sad.” She sighed. “Calo, I feel that I
will
vanish
this time. I feel…so cold and alone.” Another sigh.

“My
lady,” Calo took a few steps toward her. “Think of what would happen if you did
vanish. You would be gone from the legends. Arthur would rule unchallenged.
The once and future king–forever.”

“I
have thought of that.” She sighed again. (She’s big on sighing.) “It isn’t
enough this time, Calo. Let Arthur have England.”

“But,
my lady—” Calo began again.

“Why
are you sad?” I interrupted.

“What?”
Calo and Morgan both said together. Calo looked at me, severely annoyed.

He
turned back to Morgan. “My lady, Princess Lily, is here to observe and learn.
Please ignore her outburst. She knows—”

Morgan
interrupted Calo. “What did you ask, young lady?”

I
took two steps forward. “I merely wondered, my lady, what it is you are sad
about?”

“You
could not possibly understand.” Morgan lifted her head, proudly.

“Perhaps
not.” Two more steps. “But I do understand you could vanish, ruining your life and
your story. What could matter so much that you would risk vanishing?”

Morgan
breathed in deeply. “If you must know,” there was an edge to her voice, “my
cook has had to return to her village for a few days to take care of her ailing
mother.”

“She’s
coming back, though?”

“Not
until Thursday. My soup is all wrong.”

“You’re
willing to vanish over soup?”

Morgan
leaned forward, narrowed her eyes, and said, “How would you like to vanish?”