Sky Key. James Frey

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      “But how”—a soft but clear voice interrupts—“will she win if she is here, and not out there pursuing Sky Key?”

      This is Pravheet, a youthful 59, perhaps the most respected member of the Harappan line, even more than Jov. He was the Player during a false start of Endgame, one of only three false starts in history. The infamous Chasm-game perpetrated by the Zero line in 1972. The one that he alone exposed, but not before felling four Players of other lines. It was Pravheet who single-handedly obliterated the Zero line—that delusional band of outsiders—in the aftermath of the Chasm-game. Most importantly, Pravheet is the one who, after lapsing, swore never to kill again. He became an ascetic for 23 years before taking Una as his wife and making a family of his own. During his seclusion he studied the ways of the ancient seers, deciphering the secret texts of the Harappan and the Buddha that their line has protected for millennia.

      “Pravheet is right to ask,” Jov says. “I think it is time we hear from the Player herself.” And now, all their eyes turn to Shari Chopra. Jamal takes her hand and straightens next to her, as if he’s readying for an onslaught.

      “Elders,” Shari says, her voice serene. “We needn’t look for Sky Key.”

      And sure enough the voices come fast and furious. Shari can make out only snatches of their confusion, their anger, their exasperation.

      “But this is Endgame” … “What is this blasphemy” … “not look for Sky Key?” … “lose” … “We’ll lose” … “She dooms us all” … “All is lost and the dark is coming” … “What does she mean” … “Surely she’s loony” … “She is giving up” … “Maybe she knows” … “no no no” … “How can this child be a Player?”…

      “ENOUGH!” Jov shouts. Even the cavorting children in the adjoining room stop playing. He holds out his hand, palm up, in Shari’s direction. “Please, my Player. Explain.”

      “We needn’t look for Sky Key because we already have it.”

      These words have the opposite effect on the assembly. Instead of vociferous objection, there is disbelieving silence.

      Finally, Chipper says, “Already have it?”

      Shari lowers her eyes. “Yes, Uncle.”

      “Where? When did you go and get it? You can’t have gotten it before Earth Key,” Helena says, her voice accusatory.

      “In a manner of speaking, Auntie, I did.”

      “What are you saying, Player? Please, speak plainly.” It is Pravheet again.

      “Sky Key is my Little Alice.”

      All the adults go deathly quiet, save for Una and Ghala, who both gasp. Paru’s voice is quavering as he asks, “B-but how can y-you be sure?”

      “It was my clue from the kepler. And it is what Little Alice has told me too, in her own way. She’s been having dreams. I’ve been having them as well.”

      “But why would the Makers do this?” Chipper asks. “It is immoral to involve a child in this way.”

      “The Makers are immoral, Uncle,” Shari says emphatically. “Endgame is immoral. Or rather … amoral.”

      More gasps.

      Over half the people in this hall truly believe that the keplers exist on a plane higher than the gods. The gods are Their children, after all, and humans are at another remove, the children of the gods. The keplers are the gods of the gods and, for many here, they are beyond reproach.

      “I will not listen to this heresy!” Gup blurts. He stands quickly from his chair and stalks out of the room. Short-tempered and slow-witted Gup. No one follows him.

      “I do not wish to cause dissension, elders, but I alone have met a kepler. After gaining some distance from it, and considering the clue it gave me, I have come to the conclusion that the one I met was … detached. At best. It came to announce the commencement of Endgame, and the coming of the Great Extinction, and all it really did was talk as if it were reciting some kind of history already passed. Don’t get me wrong—it was physically wondrous, unlike anything I have ever seen, and it had abilities that go far beyond anything we have learned. Yet for all this power, its message was thus: ‘Nearly every human and animal will die. You twelve will fight to figure out who doesn’t. Good luck.’ Like a child plucking wings off a butterfly. There is no nobility in that.”

      Shari pauses. She expects another rush of questions. This time, the other Harappan stay silent. Shari continues.

      “As for the other Players, they fall into two camps—those who should win, and those who shouldn’t. At least half were twisted monsters, poisoned by their vanity, by the knowledge that they are among the deadliest people on Earth. The others were different, more self-aware, perhaps capable of feelings beyond bloodlust. I would say that fewer than half deserve to win. In our brief meeting, only two distinguished themselves—and shamefully, I was not one. The first was the Aksumite, a dark-skinned and regal boy with the bluest of eyes, who begged us to pool our knowledge and work together in an effort to perhaps spare Earth from undue suffering. The other was the Koori, a wild woman of Australia, who saved my life in Chengdu. But mostly the Players were … just people. People driven by a purpose they don’t—we don’t—wholly understand.”

      Another pause. Shari watches the children in the next room. Some of the older ones have stopped playing and instead stand in the doorway, listening.

      She continues. “Helena—you said that I am not a natural killer, and I concede that I am not. But I have killed, and I will kill again if Endgame requires it. But I will not take pleasure in it. Do you understand?” Helena makes an audible huff. Shari ignores this. “I will not kill a person who is a true human being, do you see? The boy I killed was a monster. I broke a chair to pieces and drove a wooden stake through his heart.”

      Shari stands and looks over the faces in the room, meeting the gaze of each of her elders with a sad smile on her lips. She can see that many do understand. Jov and Paru and Ana and Pravheet and Una and Chem especially. She finishes by turning to Jamal. He squeezes her hand tightly. As she speaks, she doesn’t take her eyes from Jamal. “I do not tell you of this murder of mine to boast,” she says quietly, “but to demonstrate that I will stand for my people. I have stood for my people, and chief among all of you, I will stand for Little Alice. She is Sky Key. I know it, and it is only a matter of time before the others do too. They will come for her. We, all of us, every initiated member of our line, must protect her.”

      “You mean you must protect her,” Helena says, a desperate bitterness creeping into her voice.

      Shari looks lovingly at Helena. “No, Auntie. I mean we. I mean you especially. With respect to all of you, please listen. I have thought long and hard on this. The kepler said explicitly that there are no rules in Endgame. I am the Player, and the Event is coming in fewer than ninety days—perhaps even sooner if the kepler wills it. We must prepare. If the keplers have the, the, the”—she searches for the words—“the immorality, the cynicism, to make a child, one of our own children, a piece of the Great Game, then I say we can do whatever we like. I propose that we go to the Valley of Eternal Life and take Sky Key with us. We take our people there. That ancient fortress is one of the most defensible keeps in the entire world. Let the others Play the way they want to—by hunting and killing СКАЧАТЬ