The Quillan Games (42 page)

“No,” I admitted.

“I went because I thought Remudi could do exactly what I'm proposing you do. He was an athlete. He was a fighter. Together we came up with this plan.”

“But he lost,” I said. “And he died. Or did you forget that?”

“He wasn't supposed to compete so soon!” she shouted through her tears. “The trustees pushed Veego and LaBerge to use him. I didn't even know it until the Tato game began! I was supposed to be there. If I had been, I might have been able to save him.”

“By bringing him back from the dead?” I asked.

“Yes, if that's what it took!” she shouted.

Man, this was heavy stuff. The idea that the Travelers could bring one another back from the dead was kind of, oh I don't know, staggering.

“It must have been Saint Dane,” I said. “He must have known that Remudi was a Traveler. He doesn't miss things like that. I'll bet he put Remudi in quickly to make sure he'd lose.”

“But why?” Nevva asked.

“Isn't that obvious?” I said. “To get to me.”

Nevva dropped her head, then said softly, “Do you think he knows I'm a Traveler?”

That actually made me laugh. “Are you serious? From the moment you were born,” I answered. “Or whatever it is that happens when we show up on our territories.”

The door to the theater opened and Tylee strode back in. She must have seen that our emotions were running pretty high, because even though she walked in with authority, she actually downshifted when she saw us.

“I have a proposal,” she said.

“Another one?” I asked. “In case you missed it, I'm not so thrilled with your last proposal.”

“I understand,” she said. “That's why I'd like to bring the two of you on a small trip. Pendragon, we're asking you to risk your life. I don't want you to think we don't understand how enormous a request it is.”

“Yeah, so?” I said.

“I want you to see something,” she continued. “If afterward you don't want to go through with the Grand X, we will smuggle you out of Rune and away from the trustees. You'll never have to compete again. But I'm hoping that after this trip you will change your mind.”

I walked up to Tylee Magna and said boldly, “What could you possibly show me that would make me agree to a death match?”

Tylee looked me straight in the eye and said, “I'm going to introduce you to Mr. Pop.”

(CONTINUED)

T
he journey to Mr. Pop was a long and complicated one. It probably felt even longer than it was because both Nevva and I had to wear blindfolds. We were told that it was all about security. The more people who knew Mr. Pop and where he was hiding out, the more chance there was of Blok finding him. Tylee explained how devastating that would be. She said that the revival had faced many setbacks and managed to survive. She feared that if the trustees of Blok learned for certain that Mr. Pop was real, and discovered his whereabouts, he would be killed and the revival crushed.

People spoke about him as if he were some kind of mythical being, yet they were cautious not to mention his name too loudly, for fear of making him seem too real. The challengers offered toasts to him. The revivers said he represented the future of Quillan. I couldn't imagine how a single guy could be so powerful and represent so much. Was he a former king? A president? Maybe he was a poet who wrote about freedom, or a visionary leader who knew how to build
a new Quillan. Whenever I asked about him, I only got vague, unsatisfying answers. Nothing concrete like, “He's a great military tactician who knows how to destroy the security dados.” Or, “He is a wise leader with a vision for a new government.” It was always something vague like, “He is our future.” Or, “He will be our inspiration and we will follow.” It was all very touchy-feely and not very satisfying. I was dying to know how this guy planned to bring Quillan back from the brink.

Nevva was pretty excited too. Or maybe it was nerves. Whatever it was, she didn't say a word for the whole trip. That wasn't like her at all. I figured she was overwhelmed by the concept of finally getting the chance to meet the big guy. The only clue that Tylee gave us about where we were going was that we were leaving the city. She said that in generations past, many people lived outside the city and traveled in and out on trains. She didn't have to explain it any further than that. I knew all about living in the suburbs and taking a train into the city. You guys know how many times we've taken the train from Stony Brook into Manhattan. It seemed as if Mr. Pop was a suburban kind of guy. That was cool. I was too.

We were blindfolded as soon as we left the theater in the mall. They first put us back on those electric carts, where we sped underground for several minutes. Though I couldn't see, I could sense that security was tight. I heard several voices I didn't recognize and they kept changing, as if we were being handed off from team to team. Tylee explained that it was another security measure. The fewer people who knew where we were going, the better. It was all to keep the location of Mr. Pop a secret, even to most of the people of the revival. Once off the electric vehicles, we were put into the backseat of a car. We drove for several minutes, then changed vehicles. For all I knew we were doubling back, and zigzagging, and
doing whatever it took to hide our trail. I figured people didn't visit Mr. Pop too often. It took too long.

“You okay?” I finally asked Nevva. I wasn't used to her being so quiet.

“Yes,” she said quickly. Short and sweet.

“You don't sound okay,” I pressed.

“To be honest, I'm a little scared,” she admitted. “This all feels a little like a dream.”

I knew what she meant. If I were back home and being taken to meet the president or the pope or somebody big like that, I'd be tense too. Actually, this was bigger than that. We weren't going to see just any old important person. We were going to meet some mythical character that Nevva had only heard stories about. I guess the better analogy would be it was like being taken to meet Santa Claus. Yeah, that would make me kind of nervous.

It felt like we had been traveling for at least a couple of hours when Tylee finally said, “We're here.”

I felt Nevva tense up next to me. I probably did the same. We were led out of the car by strong hands and walked for several hundred yards in sunlight. Though I couldn't see, I knew we weren't in the city anymore. The sounds were different. Wherever we were, it was far away from civilization. The only sounds I heard were the crunching of our footsteps on gravel, and birds. Yes, they had birds on Quillan. Hearing them actually raised my spirits. There was life outside the dead city.

Tylee explained, “We are now in what was once an industrial complex, but it has long been abandoned. There are thousands of structures like this spread out beyond the borders of the city. It is the perfect place to go if you want to get lost.”

“The dados don't come out here?” I asked.

“There's no need to,” Tylee answered. “Blok shut down all the outlying industry. The trains no longer run. With no jobs, people had to move into the city. That's why Rune is so crowded.”

Nevva added, “It's another way the company controls people's lives. All over Quillan they've herded the population into cities, where they can monitor our every move.”

We stopped, and I heard a heavy metal door being opened. Wherever we were going, it was secure.

“So Mr. Pop lives out here in the middle of nowhere?” I asked.

Nobody answered. I figured I'd be able to ask him myself. We walked inside the building for several minutes. The quick echo of our footsteps made it sound like we were walking down a corridor. Finally the long, mysterious journey came to an end when Tylee announced, “You can remove your blindfolds now.”

When I pulled off the cloth, I saw that we were in front of silver steel doors. It was an elevator. Nevva bit her lip. Her eyes darted around nervously.

“It's okay,” I said. “This is a good thing.”

She nodded, but she was definitely on edge. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. We entered, and had only descended for a short time when the elevator shuddered to a stop. The doors remained closed.

Tylee faced us and said, “Pendragon, Nevva, you two are about to experience something that very few others have. And that's a shame. Hopefully that will soon change. There is a group among the revivers called guardians. I'm one of them. We have been given the single most important task ever conceived of in the history of Quillan. For generations we have been entrusted with the care and protection of Mr. Pop. Guardians have died rather than give up his secrets. I'm not
ashamed to admit that some have threatened to reveal his truths and were executed without hesitation. That's the level of importance we give to our task.”

“Strong words,” I said.

Tylee said, “Once you step through these doors, you'll understand.”

“Wait,” I said. “You guardians have been protecting Mr. Pop for generations? How old is this guy?”

Tylee smiled and said, “As old as Quillan.”

Nevva and I exchanged confused looks.

“Would you like to meet him?” Tylee asked.

We nodded dumbly. Suddenly I was nervous too. Tylee stepped aside and pressed a button on the control panel. The silver doors slid open quietly.

“Nevva, Pendragon,” Tylee said, “this is Mr. Pop.”

We stepped out of that elevator and into another world. It was a vast underground warehouse. The structure seemed even bigger than the warehouse full of wooden crates that led to the gate and the flume. We're talking immense. But it wasn't the room itself that took my breath away, it was what it contained. The instant the doors opened, I understood everything. I knew why security was so tight. I knew why Mr. Pop was spoken about in hushed tones. I knew how he would guide the people of Quillan into the future. I knew why they didn't want Blok to know he existed. I knew why people died to guard his secrets. I knew why Tylee said protecting him was the single most important job ever conceived of in the history of Quillan, because what we saw in that room
was
the history of Quillan.

Mr. Pop wasn't a person, he was civilization.

I looked to Nevva. Her wide eyes told me she was just as surprised as I was.

“Did you know?” I asked.

All she could do was shake her head. She had no idea.

This huge, impossible vault held the artifacts that defined the history of a territory. Everything that had been wiped out by the juggernaut that was Blok, was here. I'm not sure where to begin telling you about it. I'll just dive in and describe it as it comes to me: There was artwork. Beautiful artwork of all styles—realistic, impressionistic, modern. Paintings and murals and sketches were displayed in one giant section. Next to it was a library. There were many thousands of volumes on shelves stacked nearly to the ceiling. These were the writings and thoughts of the people of Quillan. This is what Blok destroyed—or tried to.

Nevva and I didn't speak; we simply followed Tylee as she led us on a slow stroll through this amazing archive. Music came from one section. It sounded kind of like classical music from Second Earth. There were multiple bins of small disks that contained every piece of music ever composed and recorded on the territory. It was all there.

Another section had hundreds of mannequins, though this wasn't scary and sad like that empty store at the mall. These mannequins wore clothing from all different periods in Quillan's history. There were vibrant colors and colorful patterns and some daring styles that would even turn some heads on Second Earth. There wasn't a single gray, plain suit to be seen anywhere.

I felt as if I were floating through an impossible museum. I can't begin to imagine how Nevva felt. This was her history, a history she never knew. It was Quillan. We passed cars from different eras, models of homes of every sort, examples of furniture and kitchens. There were even artifacts from ancient Quillan cultures. I saw dugout canoes and rudimentary tools. We passed one section that was ringed with hundreds of portraits. Tylee explained how each of these people had been
notable in their time. Beneath each portrait was a detailed history of the person's life and his or her contribution to the history of Quillan. There were artists and athletes, politicians and kings, outlaws and scientists. No aspect of Quillan's history had been overlooked, whether it was good or bad. The infamous criminals were given the same treatment as the noted scholars.

Every so often we'd pass someone who was quietly going about the business of caring for the displays. The people all wore dark green smocks that made them look kind of like doctors. Or scientists. Tylee explained that these guardians maintained and cared for everything within these walls. I saw one guy touching up an ancient oil portrait that was starting to fade. Another woman mended a gown that was frayed at the shoulder. Two guys worked on a car. They kicked over the engine and it sputtered to life. The two guys hugged each other as if they had just performed a miracle. I guess in some ways, they had.

We passed sculptures of every kind. Some were realistic depictions of people, others were modern-looking pieces with fascinating shapes and textures. One marble sculpture reached as high as the ceiling. It was a massive, muscular hand, holding a wispy feather. As big as it was, it looked incredibly delicate. We saw vases and hats and flowers and jewelry and poetry and toys and, and, and—I could keep going forever. We toured for an hour and only scratched the surface. It was clear why Tylee brought us here. She wanted us to see what Quillan once was. She wanted
me
to see what Quillan once was.

“So Mr. Pop isn't a person,” I finally said.

“We created a name,” Tylee answered. “It was a simple way to refer to this collection without raising suspicions as to its true nature.”