Brandon sat patiently by the phone, waiting for it to ring. He considered getting a drink but decided that he didn’t really feel like one. The day had been hectic and he couldn’t consider it complete until he received the call.
The phone started to ring.
Brandon closed his eyes and rolled his head in a slow circle from one shoulder to the other. Then he opened his eyes and answered the phone, holding it away from his head for the count of three. He wasn’t in the mood to hear the unpleasant clicks and beeps which secured the line, and grated on his nerves. Smiling confidently, he placed the phone to his head and waited.
“Tell me” — his Father’s voice sounded pleasant, but Brandon could hear the fury beneath — “that you did not have anything to do with what just happened on millions of viewer screens around the world.”
“Millions?” Brandon asked. “It must have been on at least a billion, father. Factor in that most households have more than one viewer and it’s likely billions.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line. Brandon felt like a ten-year-old boy waiting to be punished by a man who expected nothing less than perfection from his only son. Those times had not gone well for him, but he was an adult now, the most powerful man on Tygon. He refused to squirm like a child. He looked silently out the window at the stars above, waiting for his father to speak.
Minutes passed. Then, for the first time in Brandon’s life, it happened.
“We don’t have time for this nonsense, boy. Answer my question.”
Brandon was stunned. The old man had spoken first. In the age-old power play of conversation, he had finally beaten his father for the first time. He knew he should be pleased, but it wasn’t as satisfying as he’d imagined. Growing up never is.
Brandon shook his head and held on to his confidence. “Of course,” he snapped. “I had everything to do with it. What do you think I am? Some doddering old man? As you seem to enjoy pointing out to me every time we speak, time’s running out. I had to make a bold move, so I made it.”
“ I told you to watch that girl.”
“I did watch her. I did more than watch her, I brought her into our camp so I could help her. She has no luck. The Mainframe put her into play and is pushing her to where she is now. Her getting sick and almost dying was never part of the plan. Her death triggering the Game to end was never part of the plan. Nothing to do with her was ever part of the plan. Yet there she is, front and centre in my face. Right in the way each and every time we try to get back on to the plan. Stopping us from doing what needs to be done.”
“Son.” His father’s voice softened with concern. “Confirming the existence of Eternals to Tygon was a mistake. We are severely off track.”
Brandon sighed. “Then we stay on the train, ride on this track, and do the best that we can, father.”
“If we fail…”
Brandon took the phone away from his ear and held it in front of his mouth. He took a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs, years of pent up frustration pouring out of him in one tremendous roar. “I know what happens if we fail! I hear no ideas from you, just criticism. I know what I did! I’m playing this game as well as I can. No one else dared to step forward to take my place. No one could beat me, not even you. So let me play!”
With all of his strength, Brandon raised the phone above his head and brought it crashing onto the marble floor, smashing it into hundreds of little pieces.
Falling to his knees, Brandon looked up at the ceiling and screamed as loudly and as long as he could. Then he sat on the floor, his chest heaving for air.