“Nothing sinister?” I said. “This territory is a nightmare! The people here are zombies who have to gamble for food. They bet on games where people die. That’s not sinister?”
“No,” he answered. “That’s free will.” He chuckled and sat behind his desk. He put his feet up like he owned the place. If he was a trustee of Blok, I guess he did. “Whatever this territory has become, it is the fault of the people themselves. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
“Happy? Because…?”
“Because it’s exactly what you’re fighting for,” Saint Dane said innocently. “To make sure the territories can prosper without being influenced by the likes of me. Isn’t that right? Look around, Pendragon. This is what becomes of a territory when man’s true nature is left to take its natural course. Congratulations.”
“Give me a break,” I said. “You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this?”
Saint Dane stood and strolled toward the huge window. I was glad he didn’t transform himself back into his normal image, the tall thin demon with the jagged red scars on his bald head. That would have sent me over the edge.
“As hard as you might find it to believe, it’s true,” he said.
“I’m simply an interested observer. The people of Quillan have no one but themselves to blame for what they’ve become.”
“I don’t believe you, ” I said.
Saint Dane looked out over the gray, grim city and said, “Pendragon, you are blind. Or at least you choose not to see what is in front of you. You believe there is good in everyone, and if given the choice, the path to prosperity and peace will always be taken. Well, that simply isn’t the case, as I’ve proved to you time and again, but you refuse to see.”
“All I see is you fooling people into thinking you’re helping them,” I said. “Being tricked into disaster isn’t the same as choosing disaster.”
“Ahh, but that brings us to Quillan,” Saint Dane said while clapping his bony hands together with glee. He enjoyed talking about people’s misery. Creep. “The people have found themselves in this dreadful condition for one reason and one reason alone. Greed.”
“Greed?” I echoed skeptically. “These people have nothing!”
“It wasn’t always like that,” Saint Dane said. “At one time Quillan wasn’t much different from your Second Earth. It was quite the prosperous territory. Most people lived in comfort, which created the perfect opportunity for an enterprise like Blok.”
“What exactly is Blok?” I asked quickly. “A store?”
“Indeed” was his answer. “At least, at its core. Several generations ago a small market opened, right here in the city of Rune. Blok. Their plan for success was simple: They offered products at a lower cost than their competitors. Much lower. It was an innocent business decision. Nothing devious. At first they lost so much money they nearly had to close. But they stayed afloat for one simple reason. People couldn’t resist the lure of paying so much less for all the things they wanted. It was as simple as that. So the people of Rune abandoned the other merchants and tripped over themselves to buy their goods from Blok. Little by little the other merchants lost so much business that they had to shut down, which gave Blok even more business. As the competition dwindled, Blok slowly raised their prices, though they continued to keep them much lower than their remaining competitors. Slowly Blok became profitable and powerful. What started as a small store that sold simple items like clothing and furniture grew. Blok began selling food and automobiles, all at such low prices that thrifty consumers couldn’t pass up the bargains, which made Blok even more profitable. As their business grew, Blok moved into manufacturing. They not only sold the items, they created them. Their mandate was to manufacture items as simply and cheaply as possible. They didn’t care about style or beauty or even quality, they cared about speed. The faster and simpler an item was made, the cheaper it was to sell, and low prices are what lured people to Blok. Eventually they forced other manufacturers out of business because they couldn’t create items as quickly or as cheaply as Blok.”
Saint Dane told this story with glee, as if it were the most fascinating bedtime story ever. I never thought much about stores and prices and who sold what and why, but I had to admit that the story of Blok was interesting… in a scary kind of way.
He continued, “Blok grew. It began buying other companies, folding them into their world. They moved into energy, real estate, banking, and communications. They bought hospitals and began providing medical services. They built their own schools. People followed like hungry sheep because whatever Blok sold, people bought. They simply couldn’t resist the prices. Blok lowered their workers wages, which increased their profits even more. They were becoming so huge, and employed so many people, the workers had no choice but to agree to the horrid terms of employment. If they refused, there was always someone ready to take their place, because Blok had become the number one employer on the territory. I think on your territory you would refer to it as ‘the only game in town,” Blok eventually moved into entertainment. They made movies and music and artwork, created by people who worked for them, with the prices they set and with their vision in mind.”
Saint Dane stepped away from the window and touched a sculpture that was a square piece of steel. There was nothing artistic about it. It was just a boring hunk of steel.
“Needless to say, the art they produced wasn’t inspired, but they were able to mass produce it, while at the same time closing down the art galleries and museums, so the only works of art that people saw came from Blok. You see, art makes people think. Blok didn’t want people to think. If that happened, they might have realized what was actually happening. After a time the people came to think the art that came from Blok was actually… interesting.”
What a horrible thought. A company that created all the art in the world in order to keep people from being inspired. It now made sense why the city was so gray and lifeless.
Saint Dane continued, “Blok grew so large that the economy of several small countries became dependent on the business they provided. At first governments welcomed them because Blok promised employment to so many. And not just in manufacturing. Blok needed farmland to grow food and research facilities to create new drugs. Blok swooped into these small countries with the promise of wealth and prosperity, only to become demanding slave masters. Workers were paid measly sums for working long hours-all to meet the demands of their employers. By the time these poor people realized what was happening, it was too late. Blok had destroyed their economy while making everyone dependent on the company. It was brilliant.”
Saint Dane gestured out to the gray city beyond the window. “Everything you see has been touched by Blok,” he said, almost in awe. “The city of Rune is only one small example. It is not an exaggeration to say that Blok runs the territory. There are governments, yes. They make their laws and have their elections but they wield no real power. Everything is controlled by Blok because Blok controls the money and the minds of the people. They even have their own security force of dados. It’s about greed, Pendragon. Blok offered something the people wanted, and they were all too quick to accept. And let’s not forget the people who founded Blok. They are quite wealthy. You won’t see them living in this wretched city. Oh no. The senior leaders of Blok live in a class by themselves, all over Quillan. And at the top of that pyramid are the trustees. If you think the castle of Veego and LaBerge is opulent, you should see how the trustees live. My name is Mr. Kay to, by the way. He lived on a particularly lush island that’s only a short hop from here in my jet.” He held out his hands and looked at them as if they belonged to somebody else. “I think I chose my vessel particularly well, don’t you?”
It looked as if there’d been a real Mr. Kayto at some point, but Saint Dane stepped in and took over his identity, which meant the real Mr. Kayto was dead.
“People have been fighting wars forever, Pendragon, simply to gain power. The history of each and every territory is w
ritten in the blood of those who died trying to fulfill the aspirations of their ambitious leaders. What happened here on Quillan was so much more civilized and far more successful. There were no battles. Not a shot was fired in anger. You won’t find military cemeteries crowded with thousands of tombstones. Yet make no mistake, an entire territory has been conquered and the spoils are huge.” Saint Dane gave me a twisted smile and added with a chuckle, “And the best part of all is that I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”
I stood there, dazed, trying to understand all that he had thrown at me. Was it possible? Could a company grow so huge and powerful that it ruled an entire world?
“How do the games fit into this?” I asked.
“Ahhh! The games!” Saint Dane said with relish. “A particularly interesting sidelight. You see, my boy, greed is an addiction. It’s a machine that must constantly be fed. The trustees of Blok saw that their business had grown as large as possible. There was nothing left to conquer, nowhere left to expand. Most importantly, there were no more products to create and exploit in order to increase their own wealth. So they created one.”
“The games,” I said.
“Exactly! The games provide entertainment for the people and a constant source of revenue for the company. Blok takes a percentage of every bet placed, no matter who wins.”
“But people are betting with more than money,” I said. “I’ve seen people carted off after losing a bet.”
“Oh, yes,” Saint Dane said, laughing. “These people have very little money to wager. Of course that doesn’t stop them from gambling. The chance of improving their sorry lives is too tempting. Remember: greed. Though they may not have money to wager, they do have something that is much more valuable-their lives. When people make the ultimate bet, a win means they might have more food for their families. Food grown, processed, and sold by Blok, of course. Or they mightwin a higher-paying job… with Blok. Or a larger home… built by Blok. The possibilities are endless.” “What if they lose?” I asked.
“Several things could happen,” Saint Dane said. “Usually they are retrieved and sent to an area of Blok where their particular talents are needed. Laboring with little or no pay increases the bottom line for Blok. The losers could be separated from their families for years-in Second Earth terms. Or they could be sent for medical research, or to the tarz.”
“What is the tarz?” I asked.
“Tarz is power,” he answered. “You might call it electricity. Tarz powers the territory. But it’s volatile, much like nuclear power on Second Earth. Cleaning up the waste produced in a tarz factory is the lowest job there is. The good news is no one works in a tarz factory for long, because the waste is poisonous. I understand it is a painful death.”
I had to sit down on one of the cold black couches. It was like the weight of what Saint Dane was telling me was pushing me down. He had just described a territory that was a living nightmare. The people of Quillan were zombielike slaves to the greedy people who ran Blok. A store.
Saint Dane added, “I’ve often seen cases where fathers wager with the lives of their children.”
“No!”
“Oh, yes. The lure of the big win is simply too much to resist. Greed, Pendragon.”
My thoughts went back to that arcade, where the guy beat the video game and was reunited with a little kid. I wondered if he had bet with the life of that kid. I felt sick to my stomach.
“I’d like to say you’ve already lost Quillan,” Saint Dane said, trying to sound sympathetic. I know he wasn’t. “But I’m afraid that isn’t entirely true. Quillan never had a chance. The territory will crumble and when it does, I’ll be here to help them rebuild. I have wonderful plans. You have to admit that the people here have made a horrible mess of things. Under my guidance Quillan will once again become strong. Even you have to admit they need help. I can give it to them, Pendragon. I can help all the territories. What’s happening here on Quillan isn’t unique. Time and again it’s been proved that the people of the territories are incapable of guiding their own destinies. All I want to do is help. Is that so bad?”
He said this last with a gleam in his eye that made me want to punch him. I think I would have, if I thought it would do any good.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.
The demon walked back to the window and gazed out at the grim city. “I want to see how strong you really are, and the only way to do that is to see you lose.”
“I thought the territory was already lost.”
“Not the territory, fool!” Saint Dane snapped. “You!” He lost his cool for a second, but quickly regained it. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised by how you’ve disrupted my plans on so many of the other territories. Press said you would be strong, but I had no idea just how resourceful you could be. Bravo! If I were being perfectly honest, I’d have to say I thought you would have given up by now. But that’s not the case, is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” I said.
Saint Dane was actually complimenting me, and admitting his own failures. How weird was that?
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. “I know you don’t have to compete in the Quillan games. I’m sure you’d find a way to escape from those Veego and LaBerge buffoons. But I’d like you to compete in this extravaganza they call the Grand X.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically. “Is that all? Why sure! I’d do anything for you, old pal!”
Saint Dane laughed. “Will it be that simple?”
“In your dreams.”
“I thought not.” He chuckled.
“Then what’s the point?”
“The point is I want you to lose!” he snarled.
The guy’s emotions changed on a dime. I never knew when he was going to laugh, or get all angry and try to beat me into jelly. “You’ve gotten strong, Pendragon,” he said through clenched teeth. “Not just in your resolve, but physically. You’ve become a force that I’ve grown weary of dealing with,”
“And you know you can’t beat me,” I said, getting cocky. “We found that out in the cavern on Zadaa, didn’t we?”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I believe your intensity in battling me was fueled by the emotion you felt over the death of your friend Loor. I’m not so sure you could beat me again.”
“Want to find out?” I asked. If this was turning into a macho contest, I didn’t want to lose. Saint Dane stared right into my eyes. I didn’t blink. For a moment I thought I saw the image of this
Mr. Kayto dude waver, as if Saint Dane was losing his grip on the illusion and turning back into his normal self. Was he going to attack me again? I did a quick mental inventory of the room from memory, thinking about what I could grab as a weapon.
“That may happen someday,” Saint Dane said, backing off. “But not here. Not now.” The moment passed. “I’m offering you a challenge, Pendragon. If you should triumph, which I don’t believe you will, then you’ll be stronger and more confident than ever. Perhaps as a champion you might even be able to do some good for this miserable territory. Who knows? You have the charisma to do that.”
“But if I lose, I might die,” I said. “Sorry, the upside isn’t worth it.”
“Ahhh, but that’s where my offer comes in,” Saint Dane said. “What is it that you want most, Pendragon? Other than defeating me, of course. What is the one thing you want that would make the risk worthwhile?”
“Something you can’t give me,” I said.
“Which is?”
I debated about telling him the truth. Why should I expose my deepest feelings to my enemy? It might only give him more ammunition to use against me.
Before I had the chance to say another word, he said, “I’ll tell you. You want to see your family again.”
That’s exactly what I wanted. I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised that he knew. He was evil, not a dope.
“Can you do that?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“No,” he said. “But I can offer you the
next best thing.”
I couldn’t imagine what the next best thing could be, but I wasn’t going anywhere until he told me.
“If you compete,” he said, “I will reveal to you the true nature of the Travelers.”
It felt like the room had suddenly closed in around me. I couldn’t breathe. My ears rang and my head got light. Did I hear right? Was Saint Dane offering up the holy grail? The demon slowly walked toward me.
“Certainly you must be wondering why all of this has been happening to you,” he said. “I have the answers you’re looking for, Pendragon. How far are you willing to go to get them?”
I must have worn the total shock on my face, because Saint Dane laughed.
“Tempting, isn’t it?” he said with a chuckle. “Make no mistake, I want you to lose. I want you humiliated. I want you to give up your futile quest and leave me be. I’m admitting that to you. I’m willing to do what Press would have done, but never got the chance.”
“Because you killed him,” I said.
“Yes, I killed him,” Saint Dane said. “But he promised you’d be together again, didn’t he? Wouldn’t you like to know how that is possible?”
I nearly fell over. Seriously. Saint Dane’s words made me dizzy. The idea that he would reveal who I really was and why I was chosen to be a Traveler seemed impossible. Was it worth it? This wasn’t just about losing some dumb game. If I played, I could be killed. But if I survived I’d have answers to the questions that had haunted me since the moment I sat on the back of Uncle Press’s motorcycle, headed for my first trip through the flume. I had done everything that was asked of me. I had saved territories. I had suffered through the deaths of friends. I’d risked my life more times than I could count. I had done all of that on faith in the idea that it was the way it was meant to be. And now Saint Dane was offering me the chance to discover the one answer that was beyond my grasp. Learning the truth would give me the strength to keep going, and possibly be the final nail in his coffin. The question was, was I willing to risk my life to get it?
The Quillan Games tpa-7 Page 23
