‘Your sister was called Alice?’
Celia nodded. ‘Maybe I should write my own version. Celia in Numberland. What do you think?’
Daisy laughed. ‘Sounds great. Let’s play.’
‘OK.’ Celia put the book back on the shelf and came over to the table. ‘What do I do?’
‘Choose your bones.’
So they played. Daisy won the first two games easily, even though she was giving Celia chances. ‘Stop giving me chances,’ said the girl. So they played, and Daisy gently, gently, started to bring the numbers alive for the child.
During the fourth game, Daisy asked, ‘Where did you live, before you left home I mean?’
‘Dukinfield. Do you know it?’
‘A little. I was born in Droylsden.’
‘And here’s me thinking Duckie was bad.’
‘Why did you run away?’
Celia replied, ‘Why did you?’
‘You can tell?’
‘I can see it in your eyes.’
‘My father was cruel to me.’
‘Jimmy? He’s OK.’
‘Now, maybe. But he was very strict when I was young. He forced me to be brilliant.’
‘Is that wrong?’
Daisy nodded, playing a piece. ‘He wanted me to be better than he was, at the dominoes, for instance.’
‘Were you?’
‘Never. He always won. It made me mad. I knew if I stayed with him, I’d never be myself. But I was older than you when I ran away; fifteen, I was.’
‘What about your mum?’
‘Your turn.’
‘Is she…is she dead?’
Daisy looked at the girl. ‘Yes. Car crash. I was five.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Keep playing.’
Celia played, and they played and played as the shadows lengthened and the dying sun burnished the spines of a thousand books.
‘It was my sister that made me run away,’ said Celia, after losing her umpteenth game. ‘We were twins, but she was older, just a minute or so, but it counted. There wasn’t enough money for one kid, never mind two. And Alice always got the bigger share of everything.’
‘I was an only child,’ said Daisy, setting up the pieces again.
That’s lucky.’
‘I don’t know…’
‘No, really it is. And then there was the time with the parrot.’
‘The what?’
‘Don’t laugh. I had this parrot called Whippoorwill. He was the best parrot in the world, and the only thing I had that was better than anything Alice had. Alice kept saying Whippoorwill belonged to us both, but he didn’t, he belonged to me, because my uncle had said so. It was a birthday present. Alice got a doll.’ Celia giggled. ‘A stupid baby doll! She hated it. She hated it so much she even called it Celia and would do horrible things to it, like stick pins in it.’
‘She was jealous,’ said Daisy.
‘You betcha. Anyway, one day I came home from school, Alice had been playing sick all week, and the cage was open and Whippoorwill wasn’t there!’
‘No! She’d let him out?’
‘She claimed it was an accident when she was cleaning his cage, but she never cleaned the cage, that was my job and she knew it. She said the window must have been open, which it never should have been, not when cleaning the cage, it was a rule…’
Celia’s eyes were filmy and shining, and she was unknotting the green-and-yellow feather from her hair.
‘That’s a sad story,’ said Daisy. ‘Is that Whippoorwill’s?’
Celia nodded. ‘Found it in his cage. It was all I had left. I think he left it for me, as a message. Do you think that’s possible?’
‘Of course. Is this why you ran away?’
‘One of the reasons. The final reason. It sounds daft, doesn’t it?’
‘No, I understand. You were angry.’
‘No, not angry. I wasn’t running away from Alice. I was looking for Whippoorwill. That’s what I’m still doing. He’s out there, somewhere.’ Her eyes were looking over towards the window, where night was slowly falling. ‘Now you’re really laughing at me,’ she whispered.
‘I’m not, really. It’s lovely. Oh…domino, by the way.’
‘Why do you keep saying that?’
‘It’s what you say, when you’ve won.’
‘You’ve won again?’
‘Yes, in two moves’ time. Sorry.’
‘This is stupid. I can’t beat chance, can I?’
‘It’s not about chance. It’s a skill. I could teach you.’
‘Nah, it’s just chance. Let’s not play anymore.’
‘OK.’ Daisy packed away the dominoes. ‘Maybe you should go back home, Celia. It can’t be easy…’
Celia got up and walked over to the window. ‘It was. It was easy. When I found Eddie.’ She flopped down into an armchair. ‘Is that what you’ll be doing tonight with your dad? Playing dominoes?’
‘Yes, I’d better get ready. Have you got the bones?’
Celia took one out of her pocket. ‘Been holding it most of the week.’
‘Where are the others?’
‘Others?’
‘You should have five. One for each…’
‘Threw ’em away.’
‘What?’
‘Only need one, don’t I? I’m either gonna win, or I’m gonna lose. That’s chance isn’t it? One is enough. Always has been.’
‘Right.’
‘Here…take this.’ Celia was holding out her feather. ‘Give it to Jaz.’
‘Why?’
‘Just take it. For good luck.’
‘Thank you. I’ll give it to him. Do you know what a fractal is?’
Celia shook her head. ‘Is it a creature? Does it live in Numberland?’
‘Next lesson. OK?’
‘OK.’
Daisy left the room, leaving Celia to her window-gazing. It had started to rain, a gentle mist over the gravestones in the cemetery. What a horrible place to live, Celia thought, and then, what’s this? because something was poking into her back. She reached around and dug out a rolled-up copy of a magazine. Idly, she looked it over. Number Gumbo, it was called. What a funny name, wonder what it means? One of the pages had the corner turned down, and seemed to fall open there, as though it wanted to. Celia read a small part of the article, but it was full of the language of Numberland, and she very quickly threw the magazine to one side.
The article was entitled ‘Sealing the Maze’.
Meanwhile, Daisy had gone upstairs. She knocked quietly on one of the bedroom doors. There was no reply. Jazir had insisted he be left alone all day, but Daisy knocked a little louder. ‘Jazir…’
‘What?’ Very distant. A strange fluttering noise.
‘It’s Daisy. Can I come in?’
‘No.’
‘Jaz!’
‘Go away.’
Daisy went away. It was seven o’clock. She went down to the cellar, where her father and Joe were busy at the computer, working on the new maze. She tried to get interested, but Jazir kept coming back to her. He was the one putting himself in the most danger. Was it all worth it? This business with Frank Scenario had really got to him. If he should…
Daisy went back upstairs. Hours to kill. She looked in the library to check on Celia. The girl was still there, just staring out of the window, lost in her own world.
That was it, wasn’t it? They were, all five of them, lost in their own little worlds, their own little mazes. Only the games had brought them together. Daisy thought about this for a while in the kitchen, making herself a sandwich. Her and her father, for instance, would they be this close if the dominoes hadn’t started? No. Daisy and Jazir, this much love between them? No. No way. It was like the dominoes had broken down Daisy’s barriers. And if they succeeded with tonight’s plan; if the dominoes were killed, would her new love die with them? She had to be grateful, she had to be…
Later, she went back up to Jazir’s room. This time h
e called her in at the first knock. ‘But be careful’, he added, ‘with the door.’
Daisy opened it just enough to squeeze through. It was very dark inside, and heavy with breathing life. She felt the walls were moving, fluttering with smoky patterns, whispers. Jazir was standing by the window, gazing out. Over his shoulder Daisy could see the lights of the House of Chances, calling out to all the players.
‘Jaz…’ She didn’t dare move.
‘Quietly…gently…’ he whispered.
‘It’s nearly eight. We should…’
‘Come here. Walk slowly.’
She did so, one slow step after another, across the room. Walking through a living thing, it felt like, where one false move could…Shit!
Daisy banged into a chair. It fell over with a loud clatter and sent forth an echo around the walls which bulged…
‘Bloody hell!’ cried Jazir.
The walls breathed into trembling flight as hundreds of blurbflies rose from their perches. Around the darkness they flew; harder, darker pieces of the sky, set free from the night. Many of them converged on Daisy’s stumbling shape, ready to attack and bite and give new messages, and she was screaming now, until Jazir made a weird sound with his tongue, a sort of rasping call that settled the blurbs into a new pattern. Some of them were still crawling over Daisy’s clothes, one even in her hair. The dry crackle of wings. She didn’t dare move.
‘It’s OK,’ said Jazir. ‘I’ve told them who you are. Come closer.’
Daisy stepped forward, letting the blurbs gently rise from her body. Jazir turned to her. She couldn’t make him out properly, just a blurred, pulsating shape like one of the fractals they had watched on the computer…
‘Jaz!’ She could hardly breathe.
Jazir’s entire form was covered in gentle blurbs. A suit of dark flies, whispering the many pleasures of flight.
Daisy gave him the feather. ‘Celia wanted you to have this.’
Jazir laughed, and the feather, its green and its gold, were the only colours in the room.
Max Hackle had spent the same night, the same day, locked in a tiny cell somewhere within the House of Chances. Chief Executive Crawl had promised an audience soon with ‘the great leader’, but that had been hours ago. He was fed every so often by another employee, a small man who said nothing as he pushed the food through the half-open door.
Max had no way of knowing the time. They had taken his watch. His only companion of the last hours had been the faithful Horny George, a greasy fragment of a dream, the cursor of a simple soul. Max had tried to sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares. Inside him, all the wanderers fought for possession. If he could keep the Joker Bone at bay for just a while longer. Just enough to kill the Million.
It was a battle. Already he had felt Nigel subsuming Dopejack. Knowledge breeding knowledge. Evil thoughts. Only Benny, Sweet Benny, a presence he could barely feel, still whispered of love. The Joker was getting angry at Hackle for trying to resist. Let him get angry.
Sometime later the door opened fully, and Executive Crawl stepped in. ‘Good evening, Professor. I trust you slept well.’
Hackle smiled, weakly.
‘Mr Million will see you now. This way please.’
It was eight o’clock.
At the same time, the Dark Fractals started their final run. They had set up a table in the centre of the maze, where Daisy and her father faced each other over a shuffled set of dominoes. Jimmy had placed another box beside the first. ‘What’s that?’ asked Daisy. ‘Another set,’ he replied. ‘Found them in the library. Just in case.’
Wires connected Jimmy to the playing area and to the twin computers, where Joe was checking for last-minute hitches. One screen showed the new maze, the other tuned to the AnnoDomino TV channel. Celia was standing to one side, clutching her only bone, and wishing and wishing for the world to come true this time.
Upstairs in the room, Jazir was ready. His body was drunk on vaz and crawling with life and cooking some new recipe never before tried, perhaps his last. He stepped up onto the window sill. Masala Blurb was loaded with the Theseus program, with Celia’s feather tight in its teeth. The night air was slightly hot, damp with rain, and his covering of blurbs fluttered eagerly as the night beckoned them. Jazir checked his watch. OK, let the games begin.
Allow them play.
Jazir stepped off…
Daisy played first, having the highest double, the four-and-four. Her father followed with the five-four, his personal bone. Joe watched the computer, as the two domicons came on screen, then a third and a fourth as Daisy and Jimmy played their next moves. Jimmy’s icon, the five-four, was illuminated with silver dots to make it known. As Daisy pondered her bones, Jimmy nodded to Joe, who hit a certain combination of keystrokes. After a second or two, the four dominoes on-screen split open to let loose their swarms of info-blurbs. These fluttered aimlessly over the AnnoDomino maze, seeking food, not yet allowed pathway.
‘Where’s Jaz?’ asked Celia. ‘Which one is him?’
Joe answered, ‘He’s not in yet.’
‘He’s got my feather.’
‘We’ll know…’
‘Let’s have some quiet, please,’ said Jimmy. ‘We need to concentrate.’
Daisy knocked and drew. And drew again, playing this new bone. Her father tutted and played.
On the computer’s maze, the bones appeared, slotted in the imagined corridors of the House of Chances. Miss Sayer, bringer of the map, watched from her inset box, comparing the model to the reality as she knew it, and making adjustments accordingly. An on-screen clock ticked the seconds away…
As Max Hackle asked Crawl for the time.
‘Certainly. Five past.’
‘Past what?’
They were walking along a corridor, brightly lit and crooked as one of AnnoDomino’s rules. Horny George was hovering close behind, as AnnoDomino employees rushed along, to and fro, lost pieces in a game without rules.
‘Eight, of course. Friday evening. Nearly time for the draw. Mr Million wants you to watch the choice being made. A rare privilege.’
Crawl had stopped outside an unmarked door. He smiled at a camera above the door. ‘Dental patterns, don’t you know. X-rays. Can’t be good for the old gums. Hope you don’t mind, Prof. We took some photos, whilst you were napping. Go on, give us a smile.’
The door opened to reveal a long curve of corridor, which they walked along. ‘We’re now walking round the circumference of the building. Top floor. Like the view?’
A continuous window gave a superb view of Manchester and its environs. Max could see the clouds of blurbs coming in for sustenance, or else flying forth loaded with new messages.
‘Wouldn’t you rather be back in the police, Crawl?’
‘Me? Why?’
‘This can’t be satisfying.’
‘It’s the same job actually.’
‘Covering up murder?’
‘I’ve put a few murderers behind bars, you know. It wasn’t always like this.’
‘No. It wasn’t.’
‘Here we are.’
There was no door, no markings of any kind on the wall. ‘This is where Mr Million lives?’ Max asked.
‘I wouldn’t know. I’m not allowed any further.’
‘Maybe I’ll tell you what he looks like.’
‘You do that.’
Crawl wandered off back around the long curve, leaving Max looking out at the night sky and its patterns of adverts. He turned to face the wall. Nothing. What was he supposed to do now? Just wait. He turned back to the window and as he did so a slight movement caught his eye. He went back quickly to the wall. Again, nothing. But surely…he was certain he had seen an opening, just then as he turned away. He turned away again, and there it was in the corner of his vision, an open doorway, to vanish as soon as his eye settled on the plain wall.
Max pushed gently against the wall, which was hard and cold to his touch. Nothing moved. He turned his head this way and that, seek
ing the illusive opening. On one turning he saw Horny George vanish, here and then gone, and Max knew he had to trust his feelings. He walked quickly towards the dark shimmer in the farthest edge of…
‘Who just played?’ asked Joe.
‘Nobody,’ replied Jimmy. ‘Why?’
‘We’ve got an intruder.’
‘Is it Jaz?’ Daisy asked.
‘It’s not a blurb, it’s a bone.’
‘What number?’
‘Two-blank. No, it’s changing. Double-zero. Two-blank again. Max?’
Jimmy nodded. ‘OK, this changes things. Max is in the House of Chances. We assume he’s the Joker Bone. Where is he?’
Joe studied the maze-map for a second. ‘Top floor. Just near the perimeter. He’s moving now…inwards…got some kind of blurb with him.’
‘What’s he doing in there?’ asked Daisy.
‘Wish I knew. Do you have the two-zero?’
Daisy nodded.
‘OK, we take it out of play.’ Jimmy dragged the bone aside. ‘Draw again.’
Daisy did so.
‘Where’s Jazir?’ asked Celia. ‘Why isn’t he in yet?’
Nobody answered. The clock ticked on…
The casual stroller along Barlow Moor Road at eight-fifteen that evening would have noticed nothing amiss. The more observant might have wondered at the strange array of blurbs that flew towards the House of Chances. Exceptionally thick it was, the swarm, even by the orbiting standards. Louder, and rather slower, than the usual flight of returning messages.
The keenest blurbspotter would have been puzzled at the trouble the swarm was having gaining entrance. The apex of the house was gently domed, leading to an aperture, an orifice we might say, where the incoming blurbs flew home. Usually they split up at this point, to ease the passage. This particular swarm was reluctant to disperse for some reason, preferring to force itself en masse through the hole…
‘We’ve got him!’ shouted Joe. ‘He’s in.’
‘Jazir?’ cried Celia. ‘Look! He’s carrying my feather.’
Amidst the swarms of dark info-blurbs that covered the maze, one stood out from the rest, striped with green and yellow.
‘Do I hit the Theseus now?’ asked Joe.
‘No! When I say. Jazir has to reach the centre. We keep playing. Daisy…’