‘Six-Five?’
‘The very same.’
‘I remember you now.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You were the kid that Miss Sayer used that first day, to demonstrate probability theory.’
The figure nodded.
‘We were asked to predict what domino you would choose. And Malthorpe shouted out “double-six”, but you got the six-five instead?’
‘It was my chance, you see. My bone. I was cheated.’
‘But Miss Sayer taught us the odds. Sixteen to one. It was just bad luck, Adam. Look at me… getting the two-blank. How did I feel? It’s just bad luck.’
‘There’s no such thing, Max, as you well know. After all, is this not your creation?’ He pointed down into the pit. ‘You make your own luck, in a town like Droylsden, isn’t that ultimately what she taught us? Take Malthorpe for instance. What were the chances he would get the double-six? Minute. And yet he did. He cheated. Miss Sayer let him win.’
‘That’s stupid.’
‘Play to win, she said. And Paul did so, but now he’s mine, and I am the double-six, and life is a song sung low and cool to rouse the gentle spirit. But yet…this desire for more, how can I tame it? You’re my next step, Max. Won’t you come and bite me. Give me your knowledge. Feed me.’
‘You could’ve just taken me. Why Benny? Why Dopejack? The others…’
‘Do you think I control the system, Max? I am a victim of chances. I take my chances. The Joker Bone has been drawn. He has eaten, it is good. Whoever you carry, all is knowledge. Now, he comes home…’
‘No!’
Real time: 8.59.07. ‘Play, Daisy! What’s wrong with you? Play to win!’
‘Domino,’ she said, whispering it, letting the very thought of it come seeping through to the real world.
‘What?’
‘Domino.’
‘No…’
‘Four moves’ time.’
‘No… you can’t… not with the random bones… it’s…’
‘Domino!’
1 need to win, Daisy. I need to! It’s the only way…’
Daisy shrugged. ‘Your turn.’
Maze time: indivisible. ‘Will you, won’t you, will you come feed me?’ The figure gazed into the still-hidden pit. ‘Some years ago, following his desire, Paul Malthorpe came back into my life. He was looking for funding, to “carry on the good work of Miss Sayer”. Those were his words, but I had known him too well as a restless child. I had a small fortune, thanks to my burgeoning recording career, so I asked for evidence of a future profit. He told me of your experiments, Max, and how they had gone wrong, but could now be put right. He had the new technology, and more expertise. And a certain number of computer disks, which made most interesting viewing. It was like seeing dear Georgie Horn all over again, alive in the knowledge. Expanding upon your own discoveries, we created this game, you see, the world’s most powerful Hackle Maze, full of love.’
‘Where’s Malthorpe?’
‘Oh… quite close. I had a little trouble, you see, because he had brought old Miss Sayer along. A hag, a monstrous, overpowering hag who had claimed me ordinary. They were in love. Touching, isn’t it? The power of the nymphomation. Quite an aphrodisiac, when let loose. Come see…’
The figure was gesturing towards the hole. Max stepped forward until he could see over the rim…
Real time: 8.59.25. Daisy played another effortless random bone, making her father knock again. He was sweating now, causing sparks to fly from the connections. ‘Don’t do this to me!’
‘Play…’
Maze time: indecipherable. Max looked down into the pit, and immediately felt his legs go weak. The pit was roughly 10 feet in diameter, maybe 6 feet deep. On two opposite sides, large matching portals fed the pit and drained it of the thick, greasy liquid that slopped across the bottom. From these portals crawled a slew of matted blurbflies, all tangled and wet from their travels. They gathered here from all the skies of the city to deposit old dreams, collect new ones. Beached in the centre of the pit lay the hideous creature upon which the blurbs fed. The sight of it made Max heave and almost stumble with dizziness. At the last moment Frank Scenario reached out a firm hand to grab the professor by his hair.
‘Careful, my friend. It is feeding time.’
The figure dragged Max backwards, where he screamed at the pain in his head and the sight of his lost friends and what had become of them.
‘Max, darling. Are you shocked. Surely… it’s all your own work. I just let it run, Max. That’s all. I let your brilliance reach its conclusion. This is your baby, Max. The AnnoDomino beast. You sadden me with this display of petty temperament. The progress of science, Max. Wasn’t that your mistress?’ He threw Max down, so that his head and shoulders were dangling over the pit. ‘Look upon your works, and weep for them…’