they were worried about her well-being. They looked angry
“What is your sequence?” the first dado demanded.
The woman looked up and was about to answer, when another guy suddenly pushed his way through the crowd and into the circle.
“Hey!” he shouted angrily at the woman. “What is wrong with you?” He looked even angrier than the dados. It was a guy with graying hair who could have been the woman’s father. “I lend you my scoot and this is what you do? Drive like a crazy person?”
The woman didn’t answer. She seemed too dazed. The guy didn’t stop to help her. He went right to the scooter, or “scoot” as he called it, and picked it up. “If this is damaged, it’ll come out of your pay!”
One of the dados grabbed him by the wrist and said, “Do you know this woman? She has obstructed a pursuit.”
The guy cowered a bit. He may have been steamed, but it was clear he didn’t want to mess with a dado.
“Sure I know her,” he said. “She works for me. But not for long if she keeps acting so recklessly.” He then turned to the woman and barked, “Get back to the store now!”
“I–I’m sorry/’ she stammered, and started to get up. “I lost control. It was the throttle-“
“I don’t want to hear it,” the guy snarled. “Go!” The guy smiled at the dado and said, “Forgive me. She won’t be driving a scoot again anytime soon. At least not one of mine!” Without waiting for a response, he started to wheel the scooter away.
The dados looked from the guy to the woman, as if they weren’t sure what to do. Finally one of them said to the other, “Come. We must continue the pursuit.” Without another word the two dados took off running after their quarry.
The excitement was over. The crowd started to move along again. I didn’t. I kept my eye on the woman and the man. Something didn’t feel right. What happened was an accident, sure, but it all seemed to happen a bit too perfectly. The woman on the bike hit the sidewalk at the exact right time to nail the dados. Was it intentional? Who knew? Maybe it was a total accident. But one thing definitely happened because of it. The guy the dados were chasing got away.
There was one other thing that made me think there was something more going on. It happened a moment before the crowd filled up the sidewalk once again. The woman got to her feet, brushed herself off, and looked to the older guy. I followed her gaze. The older guy was looking back at her. His anger seemed gone. That’s when it happened. He reached up and clasped his hand over his left biceps. It was an odd move. I quickly shot a look back to the woman in time to see her do the exact same thing. Her expression didn’t change; all she did was clasp her right hand over her left biceps. It was fast. By the time I looked back to the guy, he had been swallowed by the crowd.
I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what I had just seen. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but it sure seemed as if these two people had given each other a silent signal. I couldn’t begin to guess what it meant, but there was no question, the accident allowed the running guy to get away, and the older guy made sure the woman didn’t get in trouble for it. It all happened so fast, the dados didn’t know what hit them. I couldn’t help but feel that I had witnessed something important.
I didn’t have much time to think about it. There suddenly came a huge fanfare from the overhead screens. It was much more dramatic than anything I had heard up until then. It was an electronic trumpet tune that called everyone’s attention to the screens. Everyone stopped and looked up at them. Literally. Everyone. All at the same time. This was way different from when the other announcements were made. The people barely paid attention to those. But not now. I felt an excited buzz travel through the crowd. People came alive. They exchanged looks. They chattered to one another. All the way up and down this crowded street, you could feel the electricity. Cars stopped, which wasn’t that big a deal because they weren’t going anywhere anyway, but the drivers got out of their vehicles to look up at the screens. Whatever was going to happen, they were excited about it. Thousands of people were suddenly all staring up, in anticipation of… what?
Naturally I looked up too. The screens were all blank for a few more seconds as the fanfare built. Finally, as the music reached a crescendo, a single word appeared in a shower of light and drama. blok.
There it was again. Blok. What the heck was it? The way it appeared on-screen with such a flourish, you’d think people would cheer, as if their favorite wrestling champion had just been announced. They didn’t. They continued to look up with anticipation, but there was no cheering. The inspirational music continued, and a man’s voice was heard.
“The competition is about to begin,” the voice said, teasing the crowd. He sounded excited, almost giddy, as if this news were as exciting to him as he was trying to make it for the crowd. I guess it worked, because I could feel a buzz growing. The people of Quillan were getting psyched up. “We are in midquad, which can only mean one thing!”
Suddenly everyone in the crowd shouted out: “TATO!”
Yikes! The roar was deafening. They all shouted out the word and began to applaud and cheer. It was like the fuse had reached the dynamite and the crowd had exploded. Whatever “Tato” was, the crowd thought it was pretty good. The word tato flashed on-screen, which made them cheer again. I couldn’t imagine what was so incredibly great about this “Tato” thing that it could finally inject some life into this listless world.
The man’s excited voice continued over the roar, louder, so it could be heard: “Place your bets, the time is near; the greatest games on Quillan are here!” He sang this out like a singsong children’s rhyme. The people responded with a cheer and applause. I didn’t. Rhymes. I had heard a rhyme recently. Where was that? Why did this give me an uneasy feeling? I couldn’t remember.
On the screen the word tato dissolved in a brilliant flash of orange. What was left was a close-up of the announcer. The guy had a big toothy smile. His hair was long and blond and totally wild like he had stuck his finger in a toaster. He was an older guy, in his forties maybe. Whatever age he was, he was way too old to be acting so crazy. He reminded me of one of those nutty guys in cheesy TV commercials who try to sell you kitchen stuff, or used cars. Or report the weather. like he was having a great time. The people responded.
“We are proud, so very proud, to bring you the greaaaaatest Tato match in history!” He was whipping the crowd into a frenzy. The shot on-screen widened out to include another person. A woman. She was as still and intense as the guy was animated and nutty. She stared out at the world with an unwavering glare. Her hair was dark and slicked back so severely, it almost looked like she was bald. Her features were sharp, like a fox’s. Whoever she was, she meant business.
“The match will begin in moments,” she said clearly but with no emotion. “Wagering must be completed by the tone. Do not dally. If you plan to wager, the time is now.”
What an odd couple these two made. The hyperactive nutty guy who looked like he was auditioning for a kids’ TV show, and the intense, glaring woman who was everybody’s nightmare of a strict teacher. Who were these two?
The nutty guy gave me the answer. He sang out another rhyme that went, “The time is now; let’s have some fun; we’re ready for the show. Our games aren’t tame; you know our names, your friends LaBerge and Veego.”
I remembered where I saw the rhyme.
LaBerge and Veego. Veego and LaBerge. These were the guys who sent me that odd rhyming invitation to come to Quillan. I pulled the thick paper out of my back pocket and read it one more time:
Riggedy riggedy white
Come and spend the night
Well play some games
Some wild, some tame
Cause if you will, you might Your hosts on Quillan,
Veego and LaBerge
More importantly, this invitation was in a box that was sent to me through the flume by Saint Dane. Somehow these two wack jobs on the video screen were tied in with the demon Traveler. I needed to know who they were, and what they were all about. My hunt for Saint Dane had officially begun.
Veego said, “LaBerge and I feel this will be an exciting, well-played Tato. Not since the famous match of twelve-oh-six have there been two competitors who are so closely matched.” (She pronounced LaBerge like la- bearj. It sounded French, but there was no such thing as “French” on Quillan. As far as I knew.)
