Games Wizards Play

by Diane Duane

  “Is that so,” Irina said. “Then may I make a suggestion? If at some point in the near future you have a dream that you do remember more vividly than usual—please share it with one or the other of your Supervisories. I’d like to have it screened. She made a note. “But this isn’t germane to the immediate problem. There is no question that the piece of work that you have brought to us—” and she pointed at Penn—“is superior. We weren’t kidding when we wrote our evaluation. This is one of a possible suite of solutions to a problem that’s going to become more and more of an issue as Earth becomes ever more surrounded by fancy electronics on which the daily lives of billions and billions of people rely.”

  Irina leaned back in her chair. “You have a right to be credited for that work and to continue to do it—so I’m reluctant to ban you. But I’m not yet entirely decided whether I want to let you present in the Invitational. Your behavior has not been best representative of the kind of talent and mastery both of oneself and one’s art that we expect of people who function at this level. And as for you, Kit, I mean—”

  She shook her head again. “You’ve come through in the past under extremely peculiar circumstances. Yet I have to ask myself whether it is wise for me to keep sending you into situations in which one day your impulsiveness may mean you don’t come back. If that were to happen to you because I cleared you for errantry in the face of evidence that you can’t be relied on to act wisely, your blood would be on my hands.”

  She looked at one of those hands. “There’s enough of that as there is,” she said very softly. “On my instructions wizards go to their deaths—not exactly every day, but it would be rare for a couple of weeks to pass during which someone out on errantry does not wind up in Timeheart because I sent them into harm’s way. Bad enough when it happens to adults. When it happens to our younger wizards . . .”

  She looked away and let them stand there for a few minutes more while she folded her hands, rested her head on them, and stared at the legal pad.

  After another moment she stood up, walked past Kit and Penn to the crib, and leaned over it. The baby had awakened and was looking at her with clear gray eyes. Irina picked him up and put him over her shoulder, then walked back to the table. She leaned against it while the baby made little gurgling noises. “Sasha here,” she said, “might not be alive right now except that a wizard working closely on human blood chemistries was able to cure him of neonatal leukemia. That wizard was a presenter at the last Invitational. He found a way to leak some of the nonwizardly modalities of his treatment into the public domain, and as a result, neonatal leukemia death rates are starting to drop.” She rubbed Sasha’s back. “So I very much dislike keeping any particular piece of work out of the Invitational once it’s past the semifinal stage. There tend to be reasons why such works wind up there . . . reasons we don’t always understand. Sometimes the Powers don’t understand them either.”

  She looked at the baby. Sasha turned in her arms, put his hand on her mouth, and stuck a finger up her nose. “. . . So I think I’m going to let you present,” she said, looking at Penn. “But if I hear so much as a whisper about you being any less than unfailingly polite—”

  “But I am polite!”

  “Only in the most offensive way possible,” Irina said. “Truly, it’s a gift! But so is what you’ve been building. So present it. And while you’re doing that, you will do whatever Nita and Kit tell you to do. If they say ‘Jump,’ the only answer I expect from you is ‘Into which dimension?’ I expect your presentation to go off without a hitch. Otherwise, all kinds of hell will break loose. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Planetary,” Penn said.

  “And as for you,” she said to Kit, “stay grounded, all right? Nita is at a pivotal place in terms of her wizardly career. She needs someone solid behind her. The element of earth you chose last night—?” Irina laughed ironically. “Well, you got that right. Stick with it.”

  She sat down at the table again, still holding Sasha. “So I’ll see you in four days, on the Moon. Now go away, and let me get on with—” she waved one hand in the air—“the rest of the planet. Go well, you two.”

  And they vanished.

  The crater Daedalus on the Moon’s far, “dark” side is one of the largest craters on the body, if not the largest, and is positioned almost exactly in the middle of the side that’s permanently turned away from Earth. Its floor is surprisingly smooth, broken only by a scatter of small flattish, central peaks; and the neatness of the crater’s positioning has caused some earthbound astronomers to suggest that this would be a perfect location for an installation of radio telescopes, protected by the Moon from the never-ending racket of radio emissions from Earth, or even a vast liquid-mirror optical telescope that could see farther away in space, and farther back in time, than any other.

  Wizards, of course, have had other uses for it. Not too long ago it had been used to stage the last defense of Earth against the inbound darkness of the Pullulus: the inhabitants of the defended planet could see nothing of the heroism or tragedy that ensued. Now, though, the space had been prepped and reclaimed for the Invitational, as it had been a number of times before.

  Up on the mountainous rim of the crater, a teenager in a personal force field shield looked down into the heart of the crater and saw something shining and iridescent as a soap bubble resting over the peaks at the crater’s center. An area about the size of Manhattan Island, in terms of square mileage, had been domed over with wizardry, filled with air, and warmed: and in that space she could see the movement of the Invitational’s spectators, getting themselves settled.

  There were other things going on. Much closer to the rim, near where Nita was standing, someone had laid out a baseball field in the gray regolith, and batting practice was in progress.

  “Come on, put it over the plate—”

  “No hitter, no hitter!”

  Nita watched one solidly hit fastball arch up and out into the darkness, wondering idly how hard you had to hit a ball up here to make sure it reached escape velocity.

  Two point three eight kilometers per second, Bobo said.

  “Thanks for that,” Nita said. “I have no idea what that’s going to feel like when you’re batting . . .”

  Probably about like a triple against the centerfield wall.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Nita said.

  She became aware that someone was standing beside her. An older teenager, wearing a portable mechanical force field generator belted into the small of her back, was holding up a sleek black tablet-camera and photographing the batting practice.

  “If I didn’t know better,” Nita said to Carmela, “I’d think you were stalking me.”

  “Kind of too busy for that,” Carmela said, turning the tablet in her hands from portrait to landscape orientation and grabbing another shot of the baseball field.

  Nita gazed at the device admiringly. “Where did you get that?”

  “At the Crossings,” Carmela said. “Sker’ret got it for me. Take a look at this—” She flashed its shiny black front face at Nita. “That whole thing is a camera. Perfect definition, like looking through a window. Standalone 3D, you name it . . . it’s fabulous. Sker’ret wants lots of video.”

  “Want me to give you a lift down to the center?” Nita said. “My dad’s down there . . . I want to check on him before I go back down to Antartica.”

  “I’ll give you one if you like,” Carmela said. “Sker’s given me a point-and-shoot gating locus, it hooks into the hex he’s installed down there.”

  “Sure.”

  A few minutes later they were stepping out of the bold blue tracery of the Daedalus gate hex and looking around at the crowds. The center section, closest to one of the in-crater peaks, was empty at the moment, reserved for the competitors, their support teams, and the wizardries that would be worked there. But around the reserved center, a huge crowd of people were standing, sitting, lounging, or just hanging around, waiting for the event t
o begin.

  Nita parted company with Carmela and went wandering along toward where she’d left her dad and Nelaid. As she was getting close to their location, some activity off to one side caught her eye, and when the figures causing it got close enough she could see Matt at the head of them, bounding along through the gray dust of the crater toward her. Like a kangaroo, she thought, amused. A crowd of others came along with him, among them the twychild Tuyet and Nguyet and Matt’s small dark Egyptian boyfriend Doki, whom Nita was glad to meet at last.

  “Looking for the best spot?” Matt said. “You might try up the crater’s slope a ways, the view’s a bit more panoramic . . .”

  “Nope,” Nita said, “I’ve got my people settled. If I can just keep my dad from filling every available container with Moon rocks to take home, everything’ll be fine.”

  Matt laughed, then looked at Nita keenly. “And how are you holding up? You were having some weird dreams, I hear.”

  “You on the clock for medical support already?”

  “Not yet. Soon, though. And anyway, thought I’d check.”

  She shrugged. “Just par for the course, lately.”

  “Okay,” Matt said. “You know, though, anything starts bothering you, you shouldn’t hesitate to call.”

  “Yeah,” Nita said. “Irina sent along a message about that after she got done reaming Kit and Penn out.”

  “Would’ve liked to have been a fly on the wall for that one,” Matt said.

  Nita smiled sourly. “You’re not alone.”

  “Where’s Kit?”

  “Down in the Blue Room right now. Mostly he’s keeping Penn calm.”

  Matt raised his eyebrows. “Wow, kind of a role switch. That was your job, I thought.”

  “Well, Kit’s gotten better at doing it. Fortunately they won’t have to keep it up much longer . . . they’re both going crazy being kind to each other to stay on Irina’s good side. I’m scared one of them’s going to sprain something.” Matt snorted. “Meanwhile, Irina sent me up to have a look at the crowd and see if they were settled in.” Nita looked out across the expanse of the crater. “I have to confess, all these lawn chairs make me laugh.”

  And there were a lot of them. Nita’s manual told her that three thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three humans were up here to see the Invitational’s final phase, along with various cats, dogs, dolphins, and a few stray whales. Since the whole center of the crater had been domed over and climate-controlled with wizardry, the human visitors had been extremely proactive about bringing the comforts of home with them: the whole place had the look of a rather monochrome tailgate picnic. Even Nita’s dad had made arrangements to bring supplies when he came up with Nelaid, and had arrived with his own lawn chairs and a beer cooler.

  “It is kind of crazy,” Matt said. “Worth enjoying while it lasts. But listen, before you go, I’ve got something to show you—”

  Doki and the twychild were suddenly all attention. Matt pulled his jacket open. Inside it was a dark blue T-shirt that said in white letters:

  HI THERE

  I’M HERE TO

  SAVE YOUR LIFE

  AND BY THE WAY

  I’M GAY

  Nita covered her face and laughed helplessly. “Oh, God, Matt. You’re wearing this to torment me. Take it off!”

  The Twychild laughed uproariously. “Ooooo, Nita!”

  “I might have to explain!”

  “When two guys—”

  “Or girls—”

  “Or whatever—”

  “Love each other a whole lot—”

  “Then they get snuggly—”

  “And sometimes if one of them asks the other to, you know, take their clothes off—”

  “It could be misunderstood!”

  “Which is why you should always use the Speech in such discussions—”

  “Because then you can use the phrase me’hei tha sam’te instead of ‘take it off’—”

  “Which there are just too many ways to misunderstand in what’s laughably called Our Common Tongue.”

  “Yeah, ask about the time I knocked Kit up—”

  “Matt,” Nita said.

  “Mmm?”

  “Kindly shut them up.”

  The twychild dissolved in laughter and took themselves away.

  Nita had to wipe her eyes, she’d been laughing so hard. “Okay,” she said. “I should get down there again. I think we’re probably about ready to start. You going to stick around afterward?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Matt said. “Cleanup’s half the fun. I’ll see you up here after your guy kicks ass.”

  Nita high-fived him. “We’ll see how it goes,” she said. Matt and Doki waved and headed off.

  Nita went bouncing along a ways farther until she found her dad’s spot. He and Nelaid were already stretched out on the loungers—Nelaid hanging out somewhat over the end of his: no one on Earth had yet made a lounger long enough to take a Wellakhit—and both looked extremely relaxed.

  “They about ready to start?” her dad asked.

  “Very soon now,” Nita said. “You guys all set?”

  “We have all the comforts of home,” Nelaid said. “It’s hard to think how our enjoyment could be enhanced.”

  “Well, stay comfy,” Nita said, and bent down to smooch her dad on the head. “I’m going to go downside and make sure our bundle of nerves is ready to go.”

  “You think he has a chance of winning?” her father said.

  Nita shook her head. “One in five,” she said. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

  And she vanished.

  In Antarctica, on the Knox Coast, it was around sundown, under a rising full Moon.

  “It’s not so much a green room as a blue room,” someone had said when the space was getting set up, and that observation had provoked an immediate change of name for the venue and a fair amount of laughter. But there wasn’t any laughter right now. The space that had been so full of cheerfulness and nerves when they’d all first met inside it weeks ago was now simply full of nerves: bundles of them. There were five of these, along with eight others, their mentors, and one woman with a baby and a parakeet.

  Everyone was sitting over in one of the conversation pits that was big enough to take fifteen or twenty people. Centrally positioned in the group, standing, was Irina. “The first thing you all need to know,” she said, “is how extraordinarily proud I am of you. All five of you have risen superbly to the challenge. Wizards who’ve done the Invitational for a century and more are all agreed that this is the single best group of finalists’ spells they’ve ever seen. All of you are going in the manual; and all of your spells are going to be named after you, which as you know, in this business, is about as famous as anybody gets.” She smiled. “The work you’ve done is going to make a difference to people all over this planet, and in some cases to people on other planets as well, where the technologies can logically be extended so far. You have increased knowledge, and there is nothing in the world more valuable than that.”

  Off to one side, Dairine was sitting beside Mehrnaz and rubbing her back to try to work a few of the knots out of it. Mehrnaz was thrumming with tension; her hands were clasped together until the knuckles went white, and there were circles under her eyes. She hadn’t slept well for the last few nights.

  “I told you you should’ve come and stayed in my basement,” Dairine said. “Plenty of room, good food—”

  “No bhajis,” Mehrnaz said.

  “Which is fine.”

  “I was afraid you’d get ruined for them . . .”

  “My fault, not yours,” Dairine said. “Meanwhile, my sister makes pretty good pancakes when the stove’s not acting up. Promise me you’ll come.”

  “I promise I will,” Mehrnaz said, “assuming I survive . . .”

  Nita appeared quietly at the far end of the room and walked down toward the conversation pit. Irina turned toward her. “How is it up there?”

  “I think they’re about
as ready as they’re going to be,” Nita said. She looked over at Kit and Penn. Penn was hunched over, rubbing his hands together. Kit was watching him, not touching him or getting too close; but he had a concerned look in his eye as he glanced up at Nita.

  “All right,” Irina said. “Roll call. Joona?”

  Joona Tiilikainen, with his tilted dark eyes and his close-cropped dark hair, exchanged a glance with Susila Pertiwi next to him. “All set.”

  “Rick?”

  Rick Maxwell, a tall, raw-boned blond guy with a broad Midwest accent, nodded. “Ready when you are.”

  “Susila?”

  Susila threw her long dark hair back over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “Mehrnaz?”

  Next to Dairine, Mehrnaz nodded hard twice. “Yes.”

  “Penn?”

  He raised his head, tilted his chin up. Dairine saw Nita smile at that for some reason. “Let’s do it.”

  “Then let’s go topside,” Irina said. “Everybody into the transit hex: and the Powers be with you!”

  A moment later, darkness full of stars was arching over them.

  Kit took a deep breath. Beside him, Penn took one too, almost certainly for very different reasons.

  A roar of welcome went up from the spectators at the sight of the group appearing in the hex. Kit looked all around, wondering where Nita’s dad and Nelaid might be. Three thousand people didn’t seem like a lot when you thought of a modern sports stadium; but packed into this bubbled-over intimate space, the crowd seemed huge.

  “Cousins and friends and welcome guests.” Irina’s voice rang out, artificially amplified by wizardry. “Please acknowledge and greet the participants in the final round of the 1241st Interventional Development, Assessment and Adjudication Sessions: the Wizards’ Invitational!”

  A thunder of applause, a huge cheer.

  “Our competitors are the best of the best, chosen by a rigorous testing and evaluation scheme from among a field of more than three hundred of the best and brightest young wizards from around the world. Over the past fourteen days they and their custom-designed interventions have passed through day-long all-comers evaluations and viva voce panel judgings designed to reveal weaknesses and hidden strengths, and determine how effective these spells will be when used in daily practice. The contestants will now demonstrate their spells live, activating for the first time what have until now been strictly theoretical interventions untested at full scale in physical reality.”