“Your father is here,” the Game told Alex. “It’s time.” It spoke through the avatar of Freud, cold and aloof, eyes judgmental.
Alex cradled the Victorian box as Christ cradled him.
“It’s your birthright,” Christ told him lovingly. “No one can take it from you.”
Thoth was standing now, silent. His black ibis eyes watched.
Alex told himself, On Mars, there is no one to hurt me.
Someone banged on the door.
“Alex, Alex, it’s us,” the voices cried. It was Charlie and Kenny.
Alex didn’t answer.
“Alex, open the door. Don’t do this.”
Alex squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears. He wanted them to go away.
“Submit yourself to God,” the Game cooed. “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
“Alex, we can talk about this,” Kenny yelled.
“Eloquent lips are unsuited to a godless fool,” the Game hissed.
“We can help you,” Charlie said.
“How much worse lying lips to a ruler!”
“Quit lying to me,” Alex yelled.
“We let you down. I know it. I’m sorry,” Charlie said.
“This isn’t the way,” Kenny added.
“Pay no mind to the necromancers who chirp and mutter,” Christ said.
“You shame them,” Freud told Alex. “You are their totem and taboo.”
“You’re ashamed of me,” Alex yelled through the door.
“That’s not true,” Charlie said. “We can be a team again. One for all, and all for one.”
“It’s too late,” Christ whispered, “no one can serve two masters.”
“It’s too late,” Alex yelled. “I have to do this.”
“Woe to the wicked! Disaster is upon them!”
“They have to pay,” Alex said.
“No, there are good people here, too.”
“I will put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence.”
“All must die,” Alex said.
“You’re confused. You’ve been lied to.”
“They are the liars and the deceivers,” the Game hissed.
“You’re the liars,” Alex said.
Charlie gave Kenny a desperate look. There was no getting through to Alex. The Game had cut off their view through the door—they were blind now, too.
“I’ve never—” Charlie stopped. “I did lie to you. Once. I did want you out of the group. Because I was a coward. Because I was afraid of what people would think of me. I was wrong about that, and I was wrong to lie. I won’t do it again.”
There was silence, for the first time, from the other side of the boiler room door.
“You were wrong,” Alex said, with just a trace of connection.
Kenny raised his eyebrows hopefully.
“I know.” Charlie felt his own eyes welling now. “I can be better. I will be.”
Kenny and Charlie stared at each other, afraid to even breathe, waiting for Alex to respond.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said finally. “It’s too late.”
The Game showed the view through the door again: Alex picked up the Victorian box and put his finger on the small black button.
“Alex, no!”
Kenny pounded on the door.
Alex’s finger pressed into the black button, shaking.
The Game said quickly in Charlie’s ear:
Lie to him.
Tell him his mother is here too.
The button moved inward, the metal couplings closing the millimeter gap between them, a spark forming. There was no time to think, but the Game’s advice rang true—Alex’s mom had always been kind to Alex.
“Your mom is here,” Charlie yelled.
Alex stopped. He looked up at the door. “What did you say?”
“Your mom is here. She came with your dad.”
“No.”
“We saw her, in the lobby, with him.”
“You’re lying.”
Charlie closed his eyes. “I’m not. She’s here. Don’t hurt her.”
“Don’t do this. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.” Charlie shook his head. “I swear it. On my mom’s grave. She’s here, Alex. She came for you. Don’t hurt her.”
Alex’s eyes were wide. They welled with tears. A long, anguished moan came from deep within him. The box trembled in his hand.
“I never would.”
He lowered himself to the ground.
The sprinklers went off, sending the students out into the streets—a gift of the Game, saving them from the gas they didn’t even know was all around them. Charlie and Kenny banged on the boiler room door, begging for Alex to come out, and finally the door clicked open. But when they looked in, Alex was gone. The Game had led him out a back exit deep in the guts of the mechanical rooms, into a service hallway and out the delivery bay.
Charlie and Kenny pressed through the crowds outside. Charlie saw a text from his dad:
We need to talk. You didn’t have to ruin the restaurant.
Charlie showed Kenny.
“It could be a trap.”
“I know. But he could be in trouble. Can you look for Alex?”
Kenny nodded. “And Vanhi, too. She’s at a hospital. I’ll let her parents know.” He put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. You?”
Kenny smiled. “I meant what I said. We’re brothers.”
Charlie nodded.
As Kenny left, Charlie turned to find Mary behind him.
Before he could speak, she grabbed him by both sides of the face and kissed him, in front of everyone. He was startled, and when she pulled back, she said, “Thank you.”
Charlie was baffled. “Tim?” he said carefully.
“What about him?”
“Nothing.… Why are you thanking me?”
“You did this?” She grinned, nodding at the soaked students all around and giving his wet shirt a playful tug.
“The sprinklers?”
She smiled conspiratorially, as if they were in on the same joke. “I know what we said, and I meant it. But still … this…” She flashed her phone at him. “It’s just … no one’s ever been this nice to me. Not really.”
Charlie looked at the text:
Sorry about the posters. Nothing a little rain can’t wash away.
“I know what running means for you,” she said. “And you did this anyway.”
Charlie couldn’t find words.
Not for the first time, he didn’t know if the Game was rewarding him or mocking him. The algorithm was incalculable.
The water had washed away some of the concealer she’d used to cover up the red mark on her face. She didn’t realize it yet, but the bruise was now exposed in two broad streaks.
He put a hand gently on her cheek, and she didn’t pull away.
“Even if I won,” he told her, “how would I know it was real?”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
Then she stood on her toes and kissed him again, in broad daylight.
She didn’t even stop when someone in the crowd held up a phone and snapped a picture.