Isle of Man

CHAPTER 16

The Games Begin



Crack!

An explosive sound wakes me.

Then another. And another.

The castle is deserted when I descend the steps to the hall, still rubbing sleep from my tired eyes, so I slug back some tea in the breakfast room and head outside to investigate.

The camp is mostly deserted too, and only a few stragglers remain, lined up at the outhouses and reeking of last night’s wine. When I get inside the courtyard, however, I discover the people there crowded into the bleachers, their heads swiveling in unison as they follow the ball in the court below.

I force my way through to get a view.

Two kids battle it out in the court, taking turns swatting a small ball with their open hands, bouncing it off the forward wall in a way that is difficult for the defender to return. When a particularly forceful blow is made, especially if it’s a serve, the ball cracks against the concrete with an explosive sound. This must be what Jimmy meant by “goat-skinned alley cracker.”

The game ends with the players shaking hands. Someone lowers a rope ladder into the court, and they climb out, then two other boys descend. As the new players drop off the ladder and turn, I see that one of them is Jimmy. I didn’t recognize him from behind, wearing borrowed shorts and no shirt. The other kid is much shorter than Jimmy is, but he looks springy and strong. Jimmy looks nervous. Finn, who sits at center court in the front row of bleachers, looking like he’s having the time of his life, tosses down the ball with a bounce to start the game. The short kid snatches it before Jimmy can and lines up to serve. Jimmy crouches behind him with his hands on his thighs.

Crack! The ball flies right past Jimmy and bounces once, then again off the rear wall. But before it hits the ground for a second time, Jimmy catches it on the rebound and sends it whipping to the front wall again. Crack! So it goes for several minutes, back and forth, until Jimmy wins the round when Shorty misses a ball and lets it double bounce. Now it’s Jimmy’s chance to serve. He bounces the ball once in front of him, and, with a lightning quick swat, sends it blazing off the front wall with a Crack! that makes everyone in the bleachers flinch. He aces it right past Shorty.

“He’s a natural.”

I turn to see Bree standing beside me.

“Hi-dy,” she says. “You must be Jimmy’s friend Aubrey.” She smiles and sticks out her hand. When I shake it, her palm is calloused to point of feeling like wood.

“And you must be Bree.”

“Jimmy told me that I’d like you right away,” she says.

“Is that so? Why?

“Why do I like you, or why did he say I would?

“Why’d he say you would, I guess.”

“He said you were the smartest person he knows.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah. My uncle taught me to read, but the only book he has is an ancient text about a boy who was raised in a jungle by apes. He keeps it locked up, though. I’m only allowed to read it on my birthday. Jimmy said you’ve read all kinds of books.”

I shrug, as if it’s no big deal to me.

“Yeah, I’ve read a few. In fact, I have several hundred books in my slate on the su ...” I catch myself before I say submarine.

Bree’s eyes bulge.

“Several hundred? No way. I can’t even imagine.”

Crack! We both turn and look as Jimmy aces another one past Shorty.

“He’s going to advance for sure,” Bree says.

“How’s it work?” I ask.

“The tournament? Single elimination. Finn split everybody up this morning. But I don’t have to qualify,” she holds up a red sash. “I get a bye because I was a finalist last year.”

“What are the rules to the game?”

“Simple, really. Server earns points when she wins a volley. Player returning the serve only wins the right to serve. Ball can’t bounce twice. Can’t go into the bleachers, either. Gotta use your hands. No feet. First player to fifteen points wins.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Simple?—yes. Easy?—no.” She holds out her calloused palms for me to see. “Three days of play, and that ball isn’t exactly soft. Some kids leave up out of here bleeding. One guy bruised his bone so bad last year, it still hasn’t healed.” She nods to the court, where Jimmy is shaking hands with Shorty. “Looks like he’s won his first round. I knew he would. Let’s go congratulate him.”

Jimmy climbs up the ladder, dripping with sweat, his hot breath steaming in the cool morning air. He sees us working our way toward him and flashes a big smile. When he manages to break through the crowd in the bleachers, he rushes past me and hugs Bree. She looks surprised, her arms pinned stiffly at her side. I get the feeling she’s not a big hugger.

“Isn’t it a little early to be celebrating already,” I jab, hating myself for saying it the moment it leaves my lips.

Jimmy releases Bree.

“But I won.”

“But it’s just a qualifier. Right?”

“I guess,” he says. “But I dun’ care. I feel great.” He turns back to Bree. “No way I coulda done it without yer help.”

Bree shrugs.

“Like I said, you’re a natural. I just hope I don’t end up playing you myself. Then I’m sure I’ll wish that I’d never helped you at all. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“You two go ahead,” I say, not even sure if I was included in the invitation. “I’ve got business to attend to that’s more important than silly ball games.”

Bree laughs.

“Is that so? What business?”

Jimmy looks at me and frowns, getting the message.

“You want help? I dun’ have another match ’til this afternoon.”

“No. You two go ahead. I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Are ya sure?”

“I’m sure.”

As Jimmy and Bree head off, I wander around to the other side of the castle, wishing I had gone with them instead.

The sun is fully up now, the snow melted from everywhere except the shadows, and I stand at the seawall and look out on the water where I know the submarine is floating just beneath the surface. At least I hope it’s still there. No way would the professor abandon us. Would he? I wish I could just swim out there right now and head home, forget about ever having come here. But then I remember the sharks. and a chill runs up my spine. We’ll have to find another way out to the submarine when it’s time to leave—there’s no way I’m swimming now that I know what’s down there. If I could only puzzle out this riddle and locate the encryption key, Jimmy and I could get out of here, and things would be back to normal.

Inside, the kitchen is abuzz with workers preparing lunch for the crowd. But otherwise, the castle is deserted, everyone being outside in the courtyard watching the games. I head to the statue room and stand before the David, mumbling the encryption key clue to myself:

“‘Where man rises from the sea, in the right hand of David you shall find your key.’”

I drag a wooden chair over from the corner and stand on it to inspect the David’s right hand. It’s fascinating how lifelike it is. The detail. The veins seem to pulse with blood beneath the white-marble skin, and I’m almost surprised when the stone is cold to my touch instead of warm. The hand is connected to the statue not only at the wrist, but also where it rests against his thigh. And while he’s definitely holding something, it’s just a lump cut from the same stone as the statue. The encryption key must be hidden inside the marble somehow.

Then, from the height of the chair, I spot a worktable and a toolbox behind a partition where someone has been working with plaster to restore a bust with a missing nose. My mind begins to run with possibilities. I think about Hannah and Red waiting alone at the Foundation. I think about my people down in Holocene II, living trapped underground by a lie. I think about the drones silently patrolling the skies, about those seal hunters I saw cut to shreds on Dr. Radcliffe’s command-center monitors. I think about Jimmy passing me by to hug Bree.

The next thing I know I’m standing at the worktable with a hammer and a chisel in my hands.

“Do I really want to do this?” I ask myself. “Do I really have any other choice?”

I climb up on the chair again and place the chisel against the marble where the hand connects to the thigh. I raise the hammer then hesitate, the hammer’s head trembling in my grip. I think about the thousands of years that this statue has stood, about all that it has survived. I think about the man that carved it, and about the story of David that inspired him. I remember reading about the myth. About a young king who struck down a giant with nothing but a sling. But then I think about Jimmy’s family being slaughtered in that cove. I think about my father walking into Eden only to have his head cut open and his brain consigned to Radcliffe’s sick experiments. And suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with a feeling that the man who carved the David would understand. That I’m on the right side of history. That if this statue truly holds the encryption key hidden in its hand, then how much nobler would it be to stop an army of drones and free an entire society, than to stop only one giant with a slung stone. It must be forgivable to desecrate the David if it saves humankind from an evil that’s far worse than anything before in our long history: the wholesale slaughter of people for the simple sin of being born human.

A spray of marble chips hits my face when the hammer drives the chisel into the stone. It’s softer than it looks. Three solid whacks and a crack appears. Caught up in the excitement of possibly going home, I hammer harder and faster. Another crack. More marble dust drifting to the ground. Soon, the hand breaks free from the statue’s thigh and a stress crack appears in its wrist. I move the chisel and continue hammering. The soft stone gives a little with every strike. Sweat rises on my brow. My arm aches. I steady the chisel and level a flurry of blows on its head. Now the hand is hanging by a small piece of stone. I drop the hammer and chisel to the ground and wrap my hands around the marble and wrench. The David’s giant hand breaks free. It’s heavy and cold in my palms. Sweat drips down my back. My lungs heave. As the ringing in my ears from all the hammering fades, a heavy silence consumes the room. Then someone clears their throat behind me.

I turn. Finn stands in the doorway looking at me. A crowd of people peek past him from the hall. Finn strides across the room and yanks me off the chair by my belt and wrestles with me to free the statue’s marble hand from my grip.

“No!” I scream, kicking and fighting. “I won’t let you have it. I won’t. I’m taking it with me.”

As I struggle with Finn, I’m suddenly pinned from behind by someone strong. Finn strips the hand free from my fingers and looks at it, shaking his head.

“Get him out of here,” he says.

Before I can even protest, I’m being half-carried, half-dragged, backwards from the room. The last thing I see is Finn standing with the marble hand cradled in his palms, like one might hold an injured bird, and the David looming above him, standing proud and indifferent, despite its amputated hand.

They carry me upstairs, screaming all the way, and lock me in my room. I immediately rush to the secret panel, but it’s locked too, and I hear someone scurrying away inside the wall, probably Riley. I head for the window, but it doesn’t open wide enough to let me out and even if it did, I’d surely break my legs.

I see groups of people standing around their tents talking and pointing toward the castle. I know they’re talking about me, but I don’t care. I had to do something. We’ve got to get that key and get out of here. Now I need to figure out how to escape this room, get that hand back, grab Jimmy, and go.