“You two guys robots, or what?” I asked. driving quickly along city streets. Traffic was lighter, and the driver weaved us in and out kind of dangerously. I guess he wasn’t afraid of being pulled over by a cop, seeing as he probably was a cop. “Where are we going?” Still no answer, big surprise. “How about a tour of the city?” No response. “Anyone ever tell you how truly ugly you guys are?” They never took their eyes off the street.
I decided to stop asking questions that weren’t going to be answered and concentrate on getting my act together. Wherever they were taking me, and whatever we would find, I needed to be ready for it. So I sat back in the seat and watched out the window. The city here didn’t look much different from the area near the arcade. Though as I said, it wasn’t as busy. I had a quick moment of panic wondering how long I had been out and how far we had driven. At some point I was going to have to find my way back to the flume. As of this second I had no idea where I was, or how to begin finding my way back through this endless, boring city. I felt a slight tug of panic, but fought it off. I learned a long time ago that I should only worry about things I had control over. I had to trust that someway, somehow, I’d find the flume.
We traveled for a few more minutes, turning onto streets that didn’t look any different from the ones we had come off of. I tried to keep track of where we were going, but it was impossible. Everything looked the same. That is, until we made the final turn. What I saw in front of us was so out of character with the rest of the city, I think I actually gasped. The two dados turned around to look at me. Swell. They wouldn’t answer any direct questions, but a little thing like a gasp got their attention.
“Are you all right?” the driver asked, as if concerned that my gasp meant I was having a heart attack or something.
“Yeah,” I said, and pointed ahead of us. “What is that?”
The two dados turned forward, ignoring me again. I guess if there was any communicating going on, it had to be on their terms. I didn’t care anymore. I was way more interested in what was in front of the car.
Looming before us was a huge golden gate. It was awesome, with elaborate carvings and detailed sculptures. The design wasn’t anything specific. If anything, it reminded me of the 3-D graphics that scrolled across the giant overhead screens throughout the city. Very modern, but still elegant. It was in the center of a tall white stone wall that had to be thirty feet high. It was definitely too high to climb over, but not so high that I couldn’t see what was beyond it.
Trees.
Yup. Over the wall and through the detail of the gate, I saw green parkland. I instantly thought of the Tato match where Challenger Yellow was killed. The Traveler from Quillan. There were tall trees all around the platform. What did that guy call the place? The garden. Right. The garden. My hope rose that I was being taken to the spot where the Traveler was killed. The car slowed as we approached, and the gates slowly opened. We were going inside! It was like moving into an entirely new world. We were leaving a gray, soulless city and entering a thick forest. The only sign inside that things might not be as different as all that was the two dados who stood inside the gate. Guards.
“Is this the garden?” I asked the dado driver, forgetting for a second that he wouldn’t be answering. He didn’t. I shut up. We followed a winding road through dense forest. It was paved, and wide enough for two cars to pass. The forest itself reminded me of the woods back home. It must have been summer on Quillan, because the leaves were big and green. In places the trees were so close together it looked as dark as night. Every so often the forest opened up onto large rolling meadows with multicolored wildflowers dotting the green grass. I saw a few birds, but none that looked any different from those on Second Earth.
What was most amazing about this forest was that it was here at all. We drove along for about fifteen minutes, which meant it was huge. I didn’t know if this was a forest surrounded by city, or a city surrounded by forest. Or maybe city ended and forest began. Or forest ended and… never mind. You get the idea. No matter the case, it was odd to go from a gray concrete-covered city to forested wilderness. Of course, this wasn’t truly wilderness. There was a paved road, with a destination. I saw it over the treetops in the distance. At first I thought it was another huge tree that loomed above the others. Then I thought it might be some kind of radio tower. The thought hit me that we had reached the far side of this forest and were about to come out to the city again. We rounded a bend, the trees opened up, and the mystery was solved.
D. J. MacHale
The Quillan Games
It was a castle.
I did a double take, that’s how stunned I was by seeing something so whimsical on a territory that was pretty much devoid of character. The structure was huge. There were several soaring towers with pointed spires and circular battlements. There were so many levels and balconies that I imagined the inhabitants needed a map to get around the place. Though I had no idea who the inhabitants were. Bright yellow flags with purple stripes flew from every spire, snapping in the breeze. The color of the castle itself was a pale pink. In a word, it was dazzling.
We had to drive another few minutes to actually get to the castle, that’s how massive it was. As we approached, I saw that a wide water-filled moat ringed the giant structure. The waterway looked more like decoration than protection. The whole place was immaculate, as if they had a thousand gardeners working night and day. (Again, whoever “they” were.) But I didn’t see anyone working. I didn’t see anyone at all. That felt odd, but who was I to say what was odd and what wasn’t on Quillan? As we drew closer, I saw that the front entrance was a giant wooden door. You guessed it, it lowered and became a bridge that spanned the moat. We didn’t even have to slow down. It was as if they knew we were coming. They. I really wanted to know who “they” were. The car drove onto the wooden drawbridge and rattled across the boards, and we rolled into a vast, open courtyard around which the castle was built. There were fountains everywhere and hedges that were carved to look like animals. I didn’t recognize any of the sculptures, though. Either they were abstract designs, or there were some pretty odd-looking animals on Quillan. My vote went for the abstract designs. I didn’t want to run across any twisted-looking animals.
The car rolled to a stop at the bottom of marble stairs that led up to wooden doors ornately trimmed with gold. The car had barely come to a stop when these doors opened. Somebody was coming out to greet us. I hoped I was about to find out who “they” were. Whoever “they” were, “they” had gone through a lot of trouble to get me here. I felt pretty sure that once I found out who “they” were, “they” would tell me why these goons had chased me down like a criminal and shot me. The doors opened wide, and “they” stepped out onto the top of the stairs.
“Welcome, my friend, welcome!” shouted a jovial man wearing what looked like a long red and black bathrobe. I recognized him instantly. “LaBerge is my name, though I’m sure you already know that. Everyone does, of course. Please, let me shake your hand.”
Yeah, it was LaBerge. The guy from the video screen who ran the Tato contest. The guy who sent me the invitation. He looked even nuttier in person. His blond hair was a mass of long, tight curls that bounced when he walked. His eyes were alive with excitement, or insanity. I wasn’t sure which. He opened the car door and I tentatively got out.
“I trust your trip was a pleasant one,” he said sincerely, holding out his hand to shake mine.
I didn’t shake his hand. I didn’t know this guy, but I didn’t like him. Not only was he making my life miserable, he had something to do with the death of a Traveler. What was to like?
“They shot me” was all I said.
LaBerge frowned, leaned into the rear door, and barked angrily at the dados, “Cretins! Go away!”