The Complete Fugitive Archives (Project Berlin, The Moscow Meeting, The Buried Cities) (Endgame: The Fugitive Archives)

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The Complete Fugitive Archives (Project Berlin, The Moscow Meeting, The Buried Cities) (Endgame: The Fugitive Archives) Page 16

by Frey, James


  “You’re right that he probably died anyway,” she says from behind me. “Even if he didn’t, it doesn’t matter. We have the weapon. And if the Cahokians choose to have someone so weak continue to represent their line, it only makes our job easier.”

  I want to tell her that she knows nothing about Boone, that he’s stronger than she could ever imagine. Before I can even begin speaking, though, a voice calls us back into the council chamber.

  I walk in ahead of Cassandra. She once again stands beside me. But now there is a gulf between us as wide as the Bosporus.

  “It is the council’s opinion that the Player has acted imprudently,” Effie announces. “It has also been decided that a vote of confidence will be taken.”

  My heart stills in my chest. A vote of confidence is only held when the council questions whether a Player is fit to continue Playing. It has occurred only a handful of times in the history of the Minoan line. And now I’m the one they’re voting on. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve ever been, might be taken away from me. It’s all happening so quickly that I don’t even have time to think too much about it.

  “We will indicate our votes in the prescribed manner,” Effie says.

  Ursula stands. She holds out her fist and opens it. On her palm sits a white stone, which indicates she has found me worthy of retaining my role as Player. I look at her and silently send her my thanks. That one of my own trainers still believes in me makes my heart glad.

  Next to stand, on the opposite end of the row of chairs, is Nemo. He holds out his fist and reveals his stone. Like Ursula’s, it is white. Two votes for me.

  Venedict rises, wasting no time in showing me his stone. It’s black. He has found me unfit to be our Player. Somehow I’m not surprised. I am surprised, however, when Xenia also holds out a black stone. I think of her almost as my own grandmother, and to have her find fault with me is a pain worse than any punishment I can think of.

  With two votes for me and two against, Effie is left to cast the deciding one. She is one of the wisest people I know, and I pray that she will save me.

  When her fingers uncurl, a black stone is sitting on her palm. I stare at it as Effie says, “The council has voted. The Player is found to be unworthy of representing our line.”

  I think this is as bad as it can get. But it gets worse. Effie has more to say. “The council has also decided that the Player will be succeeded by her sister.”

  I can feel elation emanating from Cassandra. Effie steps down from her chair and comes over to us. She reaches out and takes the golden horns from my head. Turning to Cassandra, she places them on her. “In the presence of our gods, I crown you the Player of the Minoan line,” she says.

  I don’t know what to say or do. I never imagined being in this position. Now that I am, all I want to do is disappear.

  Effie turns back to me. “As the weapon has been recovered and brought to us, there will be no punishment meted out for your failings,” she says, and her voice is not unkind. “Your service is noted and we thank you for it. Now you may go.”

  That’s all. After everything I’ve endured to become our Player, after everything that’s happened, I’m dismissed like a child being shooed away from a party where only adults are welcome. A party at which my own sister is the one being celebrated.

  I don’t look at Cassandra as I turn and walk out of the Cave of the Golden Horns. I don’t look at the councillors. I look only ahead of me. Only when I’m out, when I’m standing under the stars and Orion is gazing down on me, do the tears come.

  Boone

  I was concerned about being able to walk through the streets of Heraklion without being noticed, but my worries mostly disappear when I see the crowds filling the squares. Midnight is approaching, bringing the first day of 1949 with it, and it feels as if the entire city is out getting ready to welcome the new year. Stalls are set up, piled with pomegranates and what look like huge onions. There are also food vendors and musicians. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which lifts my spirits, even if I can’t join in.

  I’ve paid a man to bring me to Crete in his boat, but I still have no idea how I’m going to find Ariadne, or the weapon, and now that I’m here, I wonder if maybe I’ve made a mistake. For one thing, Cassandra knows what I look like. I’ve disguised myself as much as I can by dyeing my hair with boiled tea-leaf water, which is a trick my mother taught me. It’s made the color only a few shades darker, and it will only last a few days, but it should help. Also, I was able to buy an old sweater, coat, and cap from the fisherman who brought me here. He thought I was crazy for wanting them, and they smell like fish and seaweed, but at least now I look like a lot of the other men in Heraklion.

  Still, I’m a little nervous. I have a feeling strangers are quickly spotted here. Right now I’m protected by the crowds, the darkness, and the distraction of the New Year’s Eve festivities, but that won’t last forever. I need to do what I’ve come for and get out as quickly as I can. But I don’t know where to start looking, I have no contacts here, and although I’m familiar with many of the languages spoken by the different lines, Greek is not one I’ve mastered.

  For the first time since getting on the train in Budapest, I feel like I might not be able to pull this off. Maybe I should have been straight with Kenney and told him that the weapon has fallen into the hands of the Minoans. But then what would have happened? Would there be an all-out war between our lines? Would he have sent someone else to try to get the weapon? If so, who? Anyone else wouldn’t hesitate to kill Ariadne.

  If I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m here just as much to find Ariadne as I am to find the weapon. Maybe even more because of her. That puts me in a dangerous position. Already I’ve kept things from my council and lied about my plan. Both things are probably grounds for punishment, if not out-and-out removal from my position as Player. Until now I’ve told myself that as long as I get the weapon, everything else will be unimportant. But that’s not true. If I do find Ariadne, and she wants to be with me too, what then? Players from different lines can’t be together. It’s impossible given the rules of Endgame. Even once we age out and new Players take our places, it would be forbidden.

  “You are American?” someone says in rough English.

  A boy is standing in front of me. He’s maybe eight or nine, skinny, wearing patched pants and a coat with sleeves too short for his arms. He’s looking at me hopefully. When I don’t answer right away, he tries again in French. “Êtes-vous français?”

  I know I’m supposed to be Russian, but I don’t think the kid is likely to speak that language. He’s probably picked up some phrases from the soldiers who have come to the island during the war, and wants to practice using them. I probably shouldn’t talk to him at all, in case he starts telling his buddies about the stranger in town, but I also don’t want to be rude.

  “English,” I say, hoping the accent I attempt is convincing.

  He grins. “God save the King!” he says, and laughs. “You soldier?”

  I shake my head. “A traveler.”

  He grins again. “You need a guide? I show you around. Temples. Caves. Everything.”

  I start to say no, but then I get an idea. It’s a risky one, but it’s the only possible lead I have, so I decide to try. “I came here because I met someone from Crete, and he told me it was very beautiful.”

  “Yes,” the boy says. “Very beautiful.”

  “His name is Calligaris,” I say. “Maybe you know him.”

  “Many people with that name on Crete,” the boy says.

  “He has daughters,” I say. “Twins.”

  “Ah,” the boy says. “That Calligaris. Ariadne and Cassandra.”

  My heart skips a beat when I hear Ariadne’s name. “Do you know where they live?”

  The boy reaches out and takes my hand. “Come. I show you.”

  Before I can object, I’m following him through the crowd. No one pays any attention to us, but still I�
�m anxious. I don’t know who my guide is, or where he’s taking me. I can’t just walk up to the door of Ariadne’s house and knock. When the boy eventually leads me away from the main street to a smaller side one, I stop him.

  “I want this to be a surprise,” I tell him. “For the new year. Just show me where the house is, okay?”

  “Okay,” he says, and starts off again. I’m thankful he’s young, and hasn’t learned to be suspicious of people he doesn’t know. I also envy him a little for this.

  A few minutes later we turn in to a narrow lane, and he stops. “There,” he says, pointing to a house. “Calligaris.” He looks at me expectantly, and I realize that he’s waiting for me to give him something. I reach into my pocket and fish out some coins. I’m not even sure what currency they are, as I have several jumbled up in there from my travels, but he doesn’t seem to care. He sticks the money in his own pocket and trots off, back toward the noise and the crowds.

  I turn my attention to the house. Assuming the boy has brought me to the right place, is Ariadne inside? For all I know, she’s out celebrating like so many other people. Or maybe she’s in there with her family. With Cassandra. Thinking about Ariadne’s twin, I reach into my coat and check for my pistol. If I have to face her again, I’ll be ready, and this time she won’t be walking away with a smile on her face.

  I approach the house and start scanning it, looking for the best way inside. Like most of the houses I’ve seen in Heraklion, it’s constructed of stone and plaster, with several tall, open windows that can be covered with wooden shutters. Right now the windows are open, and light spills out from all of them. I wonder which one, if any, is Ariadne’s bedroom.

  As I’m standing there, the front door opens. I quickly dart into the shadows and watch as several people come out. When I see Ariadne among them, laughing and smiling as she puts her arm around the shoulder of a handsome young man, I get jealous. Then I remind myself that it might not be her. It might be Cassandra. My Player instinct kicks in, telling me that if it is, I should take her out.

  Instead I let the group pass by me. The closer they get, the better look I get at the girl, and for some reason, I’m almost positive that it’s Cassandra. There’s a cockiness to her that seems out of place for Ariadne. Of course, the Ariadne I know might have been an act. Maybe this is the real her. But I don’t think so. When I look at this girl, I see Ariadne’s face, but I don’t feel Ariadne there. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s like looking at someone wearing an Ariadne mask.

  When they’ve moved on down the street, I walk across to the house and risk peering into one of the lower windows. There’s an older woman moving around, picking up dishes and carrying them into the back of the house. Ariadne’s mother? I hear her say something in Greek. Someone else answers, and it sounds like Ariadne, but I can’t see her. The two of them talk a bit more. It sounds to me as if they’re arguing, but as I don’t understand the words, it’s difficult to say. Then the voices stop. The woman reappears. She seems sad.

  If Ariadne is here, she’s now in one of the upstairs rooms. I examine the exterior of the house, and see that it would be easy enough to scale the walls. The stones provide handholds and footholds. It’s risky, as anyone passing by could see me, but I decide to chance it, and begin climbing. Pretty quickly, I’m level with the upper windows. I look in the first one and find an empty bedroom. The second window likewise reveals a room with no one in it.

  I’m hanging there, trying to decide what to do next, when I hear a sharp intake of breath above me. I look up, and Ariadne is looking down at me. Like many of the roofs, this one is flat, and there’s a rooftop garden up there. She’s standing at the edge, regarding me with an expression of disbelief.

  “Boone?” she says, as if she isn’t sure. Then I remember my disguise.

  I climb the rest of the way up and pull myself over the edge. I stand in front of her, and the two of us just stare at each other for a long moment. Then Ariadne pulls me into a hug, her arms closing around me. I hug her back and bury my face in her hair. It smells sweet and clean, and I close my eyes, letting the scent fill my nose as I hold Ariadne tightly.

  “I knew you’d get out,” she says softly. “But how did you find me?”

  “Oh, you know,” I say. “I just walked into the center of town and shouted, ‘Does anyone know where I can find the Minoan Player?’”

  She lets go of me and steps back. “I’m not the Player anymore,” she says. “Cassandra is.”

  “What?”

  “The council voted to remove me,” she says.

  She sounds angry, but also a little bit relieved. I wonder if she’s been thinking about what this means for us. Now that she’s not a Player, maybe she thinks we can be together.

  “It doesn’t change anything,” she says, as if she’s reading my mind.

  “If anything it makes it worse. They think I was colluding with you.

  And I guess I was. To them, that makes me a traitor. I’m lucky to have escaped punishment. If they think there’s anything between us, or that I’m helping you, they would not be lenient again. It would mean death for me.”

  Death. Would they really kill her? As soon as I ask myself the question, I know that the answer is yes. This is Endgame. Everything about it is a matter of life and death. If her council thinks she’s a danger to them, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. And what about my council? Would they do the same thing? I can’t recall a Cahokian Player ever being removed from action. What if I’m the first?

  All of a sudden, I realize the position I’ve put both of us in by coming here. I’ve been reckless, stupid. “Do you want me to go?” I ask Ariadne.

  She doesn’t hesitate as she shakes her head and says, “No. But you can’t stay. You have to get away from Crete. It won’t take them long to know that you’re here, and if they catch you, you’ll be dead as well.”

  “Then come with me,” I tell her. “Away from Crete.”

  “They’ll follow,” she says. “Wherever I go, they’ll come after me. And I won’t be any more welcome among the Cahokians than you would be here.”

  “You don’t know that,” I say. “My family are good people.”

  She smiled sadly. “So are mine, Boone. That’s how I know.”

  I think about what she’s saying. Her family loves her, just like mine loves me. And her family, her line, would never be able to accept us together because of the rules of Endgame. It’s as simple as that. And she’s right: mine would feel the same way. We’ve known this since the very beginning, but ever since I decided to come looking for her, I’ve thought there might be a way out. Now the reality of what our lives are stares me right in the face.

  Nobody ever tells you that when your heart breaks, you can feel it. I feel it in my chest now, a sharp pain like the slice of a knife. At first I think it’s just sadness about not being able to be with Ariadne. Then, the more I sort through the emotions swirling around in my head, the more I realize that it’s also about my position as a Player. My whole life, I’ve been trained to think only of winning Endgame. Now, because of what I feel for Ariadne, that’s also at risk. Especially if my council knows about Ariadne, which is a very real possibility given that hers knows about me. Even if I get the weapon and take it home with me, will my council be able to trust me? As I stand here with Ariadne, I see the two things that mean the most to me being taken away.

  “There has to be another way,” I say. “There has to. What if we buy our way out?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I think quickly, putting pieces together in my mind. “What do both of our lines want more than anything?”

  “To win Endgame,” Ariadne says.

  “Right. And both of them think the weapon will help them do that.”

  Ariadne’s eyes widen. “Are you saying we trade the weapon for—”

  “For our freedom,” I say. “We tell them they can’t have the weapon unless they agree to leave us alone.”

 
Ariadne shakes her head. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”

  “I know exactly what I’m saying,” I tell her, although I’m not certain I do. I only know that right now I’ll do anything to get her to be with me.

  “It’s insane,” she says. “It will never work.”

  “Maybe not,” I say. “But we can try. Do you know where the weapon is?”

  “I think so,” she says.

  “Can we get to it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then let’s go. If we’re caught, you can tell them I forced you to show me.”

  “And if we’re not caught?” she asks.

  I take a breath. “Then we leave Crete together,” I say. “We take the weapon with us.”

  I expect her to immediately say no. When she doesn’t, I know I have a chance. I take her hand. “Trust me,” I say as I squeeze her fingers.

  When she says, “Come with me,” I think my heart might burst from happiness. She leads me across the rooftop garden and into the house, then into her bedroom, where she puts on shoes, takes a bag from her closet, and puts a few things into it. Then we go down the stairs, pausing to make sure no one sees us before leaving the house. Ariadne does not look back as we make our way down the street.

  “The weapon is at Ianthe’s house,” she says. “They’re trying to decipher the plans.”

  It takes us only 15 minutes to reach the other house. We keep to the side streets, avoiding the busy squares where people are congregating. Even so, I can sense that Ariadne is on high alert. So am I. It was dangerous enough when I was on my own. If we’re discovered together, it could be even worse. There are a lot of things I want to ask Ariadne and talk to her about, but they all have to wait.

  Unlike the Calligaris home, this other one is dark. There are no lights in the windows, no sounds of celebration coming from inside.

  “Looks like no one is home,” I say.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Ariadne reminds me. “Let me go to the door. It won’t seem unusual for me to come here.”

 

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