The Quillan Games (36 page)

To explain what I'm about to do, I have to go back to when I was kidnapped away from Veego and LaBerge by the Traveler from Quillan, Nevva Winter. It turned out that she wasn't at all the person I first thought she was. But more about that later. After the accident I was kept in that cool, wet, fishy-smelling cell for about a day. They tried to make me
comfortable, but that wasn't easy considering the bed was a thin mattress and it was so damp that my bones ached. At least it wasn't as bad as that cell on Eelong. Not by a long shot. Compared to that, this was like living large at the Manhattan Tower Hotel.

I wasn't treated badly, though. There was a guy stationed outside my room who actually apologized for having to keep me in that cell. He said I wasn't a prisoner, but that it wouldn't be safe for me to be wandering around. I didn't question him. Safe was good. A few times I asked him where I was and who the others were, but he just shook his head and said it wasn't his place to tell me.

Just once I'd like to meet up with somebody who had all the answers and was willing to spill.

I took the time to write my last journal and collect my thoughts. Of course everything Saint Dane told me about Blok and how it controlled every aspect of everything on Quillan kept rolling around in my head. This was a territory run entirely by a store, and for profit. It was a soulless society that existed only to serve the bottom line of Blok, and to make those who ran the company wealthy. How sick was that?

On top of my worrying about the sad state of Quillan, Saint Dane had dangled a very big carrot that was tearing me apart. He wanted me to compete in the big game called the Grand X. Why? He wanted to see me lose. No, he wanted to see me humiliated. In return he offered to explain the origin of the Travelers. Could I trust him? It was an incredible opportunity. He was offering to unlock everything. Everything! I could discover who I really was and what had happened to my family. But as desperate as I was to learn those truths, I decided that the stakes were too high. With the Quillan games it wasn't so much about winning or losing, it
was about staying alive. People died playing these games. It wasn't worth the risk, no matter how tempting the payoff. No way I was going to enter the Grand X.

That's where my head was as I hung out in that cell. I tried to get some sleep and probably nodded out a few times, but it sure wasn't restful. At one point my guard came in with a breakfast of dry bread and overripe fruit. It wasn't exactly gourmet, but I was too hungry to care. I was nearly finished when my cell door opened again, and in stepped the person I wanted most to see. Nevva Winter. Finally! She was dressed all in black, just as she had been the day before when I was kidnapped. She moved quickly, almost nervously. That was her style.

“Good morning!” she said, hurrying in. “I hope you slept well.”

“Keep hoping,” I said.

Nevva had a black tool that looked like a heavy set of pliers, with sharp teeth. She opened and shut the jaws, saying, “These are impossible to come by. This one was stolen from a security dado.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Hold your left arm out,” she commanded.

I did. Nevva slipped one end of the jaws underneath the silver loop on my arm. Excellent! She was going to free me from my electronic leash.

“Hold still,” she said. “This might hurt.”

“Hurt?” I shouted in surprise. “Why would it—”

The loop squeezed my arm as she clamped the jaws around it. The little needles, or whatever they were that held it tight, dug into my arm.

“Owwww!” I said. “Let go!”

“We've got to get rid of this,” she said, grunting with exertion.

“Then hurry!” The loop was cutting off my circulation. If she didn't hurry, it would cut off my whole arm! “Owwww!” I heard a quick, sharp electronic chirp. An instant later the pain was gone. The loop released. Nevva clipped through it, and the vicious cuff fell to the floor. I rubbed my biceps to get the circulation back.

“There,” she said triumphantly. “You're free.”

“Thanks, I think. Why the special tool?”

“This not only cuts through the metal, it interrupts the power source,” she explained. “If you try to cut off a loop without interrupting the power, it will squeeze off your arm.”

Yikes.

“I'm glad I didn't know that before you got it off,” I said.

“Put these on,” she commanded, handing me a black shirt, pants, and jacket like the ones she was wearing. “You can't go around dressed like a challenger.”

She turned her back to give me some privacy. I changed quickly, happy to be rid of that challenger shirt.

“I'm sorry you had to spend the night here,” she said. “There was nothing I could do. There was an investigation into the accident when we freed you. I had to be there with the security force to report back to the trustees. If I wasn't there, it would have raised suspicions and—”

“Don't worry,” I interrupted. “It's cool. I'm just glad you got me away from those guys.”

“It was very well planned,” Nevva said. “I know, because I planned it. Everything had to work perfectly or people might have gotten hurt. That's why you weren't brought before the trustees sooner. I needed time to organize the operation.”

That explained why I had to wait at the castle so long before being brought to Blok.

“Who helped you do all this?” I asked.

“I'll answer your questions later,” she replied quickly. “We need to get moving. There is so much to do, and I don't have much time so—”

“Stop!” I said firmly. “Take a breath, all right?”

She was talking so fast it was like she was a wind-up toy with a tight spring.

“You got me out of there, that's great. But I'm not moving until you tell me who the hell you are,” I said.

“I did tell you!” she complained. “I'm the Traveler from Quillan.”

“Yeah, but that's all you've told me,” I said. “I don't know anything else about you. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bust out of here and jump back into the flume.”

Nevva took a breath to calm herself, which didn't look easy for her to do. She always seemed to be in hyperdrive.

“All right,” she answered. “Here's your reason to stay. I know how to save Quillan.”

Oh.

We stared each other down for a good long moment.

“Okay, good reason,” I finally said, trying to sound casual. It was actually a great reason, but I needed to wrestle back some kind of control.

“Now would you please come with me?” she asked.

“No,” I answered, and sat down. “I need to know what I've gotten myself into. Or should I say, I need to know what
you've
gotten me into.”

Nevva sighed and glanced at her watch. “I suppose we can spare a few minutes,” she said as if she guarded her minutes very carefully.

I said, “Start with telling me your story.”

Nevva glanced out the cell door to see if anyone was listening. They weren't. She opened the cell door wide to make
sure we'd see if anybody happened by. She seemed upset. I didn't know if it was because she didn't want to open up about herself, or because I was throwing off her precious schedule. I didn't care. I needed to know.

“I've always lived here in the city of Rune,” she began. “My father was an engineer who specialized in dado repair. My mother was a maintenance worker at the Blok building. That meant she cleaned the offices of the trustees. Both worked for the same wage that is assigned to lower-sector workers, which is to say we were barely getting by. But we did get by. Things would have been fine, if not for the fact that I was, how should I put it, gifted. From the time I was quite young, I tested very high on the intelligence charts. My parents felt I was destined for great things. They didn't want to see me working a job in the lower sector, where it is so difficult to earn a living wage. But to do that, I needed to go to school. And that was a problem.”

“Why? Aren't there public schools on Quillan?” I asked.

“I don't know what you mean by ‘public', but most children do not go to school. Only the gifted ones, and it is quite expensive. My parents worked two shifts each to pay the fees. They had such high hopes for me, there was nothing they wouldn't have done to give me a better life.”

I wondered if Nevva's parents were her biological parents. So many of the Travelers were raised by people who weren't, including me.

“I did well in school,” Nevva said. “I was being groomed for a management position within Blok. It was exactly what my parents hoped for. But it was getting more and more difficult for them to earn enough to keep me in school. The higher the grade level I reached, the more expensive it became.” Her voice grew solemn. “That's when my father started to wager on the games.”

“I'm guessing he didn't do so well,” I said.

“At first he did, but it didn't last. It never does. I won't bore you with the tragic details, but my father ended up losing his job and was sent to the tarz. Do you know what that means?”

Unfortunately, I did. I nodded.

“My mother was never the same,” Nevva said. “Losing my father was like losing a piece of herself. She became bitter. The idea that my father died trying to educate me so I could work for the very company that sent him to his death was something she could not accept. To this day I'm not entirely sure of what happened, but I believe she did something foolish. She had access to the trustees because of her job. The security police never told me the exact charges, but I believe she tried to somehow harm the trustees. My mother was not a violent person, but she was pushed beyond her emotional limits. There's no saying what people might do when they get to that frightening place. My mother wasn't herself anymore. I'll never forget that morning. She kissed me good-bye and said she loved me. I never saw her again.”

Nevva looked to the ground. For a second I thought she was going to cry. I didn't interrupt her. I knew how she felt, sort of. I had lost both my parents too. Though I'm holding on to the hope that I'll see them again. Nevva didn't have that hope.

After a few moments she took a breath and said, “My story isn't unique. Blok creates pain. It feeds on pain. It profits from pain.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“The trustees actually took pity on me,” she answered. “At least that's what they called it. I call it payback. They took over my education and created this job for me as special assistant. Though it's more of a sentence than a job. I'm paying for
what my mother did to them . . . or tried to do. I may not be laboring in the tarz, but make no mistake, I am their slave. Sometimes I wish they would send me to the tarz, so I don't have to listen to them anymore.”

“When did you learn about being a Traveler?” I asked.

“Shortly after my father was sent to the tarz,” she said. “A man paid me a visit and said there was something important he needed to show me. He was a stranger, but there was something about him that made me trust him.”

“It was Press, wasn't it?” I asked.

For the first time since I'd met her, Nevva smiled.

“He told me all about you,” she said. “He told me that one day you would arrive and help me guide the territory out of this horrible time. That was so long ago, I never thought this day would come. In the meantime he took me through the flumes and showed me the wonders of Halla. I saw all three Earth territories and learned of their history. I could relate to how the Milago were treated by the Bedoowan on Denduron, and how badly the gars were treated by the klee of Eelong. I swam underwater on Cloral and jumped into my own fantasy on Veelox. Without those experiences, I never would have believed I was a Traveler.”

“Do you know that Press is dead?” I asked.

Nevva nodded. “I understand we have lost many Travelers.”

“There's been a boatload of tragedy,” I said. “The one thing I hang on to is that I don't believe anybody died in vain. Saint Dane is getting weaker. At one time I thought for sure that Halla would be his, now I'm thinking we've turned the tide. We're going to stop him.”

“Do you think he's come to Quillan?” Nevva asked me.

I wasn't sure how to break the news to her. Nevva seemed like somebody who was all about being buttoned up and in
control. I didn't want to just blurt out: “You idiot! He's a trustee!” That wouldn't have been cool, so I answered carefully.

“I've seen Saint Dane take many forms,” I said. “Sometimes he creates his own character, other times he takes on the life of someone who already exists. Don't ask me how he can do it. Uncle Press never explained it, and I haven't figured it out myself. Let's just say he's got powers, and he uses them to confuse us.”

“You're about to tell me he's already here, aren't you?” Nevva asked.

“Mr. Kayto,” I answered. “Saint Dane assumed his character.”

For a second I thought Nevva was going to faint. She actually seemed to sway, like it was going to be lights-out. I almost jumped up to grab her, but she collected herself and looked right at me.

“For how long?” she asked.

“I don't know,” I answered. “He revealed himself to me after I was in front of the trustees. He likes to tell me he's around, just to make me squirm.”

“What is he trying to do here?” Nevva asked.

“If he's telling the truth, he's not doing anything to harm Quillan.”

“Really?” Nevva asked hopefully.

“That's not good news,” I answered. “It's because he thinks Quillan is already doomed. He's just hanging around to pick up the pieces.”

“Oh,” Nevva said softly.

“There's more,” I said. “He wants me to compete in the Grand X, just to see me lose. Humiliated, embarrassed, whatever.”