The Game is Rigged Against You

by Gary Christenson

“I accept your maze challenge.” After saluting King William, I bowed to Princess Hilda, his daughter. My dreams of conquering a maze and earning a golden treasure appeared within reach. My gut warned me unseen dangers lay ahead.

The King smiled and said, “Jorge Buski, we wish you luck surviving the maze. You may carry food, water, and ancient weapons. I hereby inform you that sixteen earlier contestants died in their quest to conquer the maze. Hundreds of cameras will monitor your progress. Your prize, should you survive, is five kilos of gold hidden at the center of the maze. In addition, you will marry my only daughter, and I will crown you Prince Buski of our tiny European kingdom. Good luck! Remember, the game is rigged against you.” He stood, smiled at his daughter, and waved me toward the entrance to the deadly maze.

Hilda gazed at her father with cold, dark eyes and faked a smile. No inner goodness radiated from her twisted face. She surveys the kingdom at midnight while flying on a broomstick.

Wearing my backpack, I marched into the steel and stone maze, shivered with anticipation, and approached the first turn. A video camera mounted ten feet above the ground tracked my progress. My hyper-sensitive eyes observed wear on the floor, which showed most contestants had turned right. I went left. The camera mount dipped a fraction of an inch lower on its left side. I removed my scent jar from the backpack, inserted my finger, and marked the wall. My sensitive nose could smell the scent and confirm I had passed this way. I thanked my unusual genetics for super-sensitive vision and smell. My grandfather taught me how to focus my mind and remember everything.

In my mind, I drew the maze as I progressed, noting scent marks and cameras. My mental images are precise, my memory is amazing, and my observational skills are outstanding. I can navigate the maze and remember the path. My stomach quivered because I worried about the King’s warning that “the game is rigged against you.”

At the sixteenth turn, I reached a dead-end, reversed course, and sniffed for scent marks. Returning to the fourteenth junction, I turned in the opposite direction. Ten feet down the new corridor, it ended and branched left and right. The smell of putrid meat wafted toward me. I slowed, removed my long sword from its scabbard, and inched forward.

A black panther lunged at me from the right branch. Vicious jaws snapped shut and sharp claws raked air within inches of my throat. If my nose had not warned me, I would have been panther food. I jumped backward, screamed, and thrust my sword toward the huge cat. A chain held the panther a few feet away from my trembling body. We glared at each other. Yup, the game is rigged.

A panther lurked in that corridor. What comes next? Poisonous snakes, trapdoors, a fire-breathing dragon, pygmies with blowguns? Giving the chained panther a wide clearance, I made a scent mark on the wall, noted the camera position, and filed the information on my mental maze map.

Ten turns later, I had nearly reached the center and the golden prize. My nose warned me again. I smelled something musty and sensed danger. With sword in hand, I peeked around the next corner and saw a sign that read “The Dragon’s Lair.” Beneath it, a huge, coiled snake with a triangular head sat on a table, ready to strike. Ducking back around the corner, I retreated and worried. The maze guardians had placed the poisonous snake near the center of the maze, guarding the gold. Unlike when I circumvented the panther, I could not avoid the snake.

A sword gave me three feet of clearance from its deadly fangs. But a striking snake is much quicker than a human, even with my accelerated reflexes. I backed away, removed my backpack, and reached for a leather sling and three medium-sized rocks.

Armed with my sling, I peeked around the corner. The snake had not moved from its table. I swung the sling and let a rock fly. It hit the table and bounced into the snake’s body, doing no damage. The snake hissed. My third rock slammed into the snake’s head. Stunned, the snake fell and hung from the table. I bounded forward, sword in hand, and chopped off the snake’s head. Its body twitched a long time after I had beheaded it. I waited several minutes before I moved the head and body into a far corner with my sword.

A wooden box sat underneath the snake’s table. Using my knife, I opened it. Five gold bars gleamed in the afternoon light. Rather than reach in and grab the bars, I dumped them onto the table and waited. Moments later, three black widow spiders crawled from the box and scurried into a corner. I smiled, feeling successful, as I shoved the gold bars into my backpack, knowing that victory was close.

The rules of the contest dictated I escape from the maze, announce my triumph to the King, and receive his daughter’s hand in marriage.

I ignored those rules.

According to local lore, the maze had a second exit, one not used by other contestants because they liked basking in the glory of having conquered maze, and they wanted to marry the princess. I didn’t want glory, a prince’s crown, or marriage to the vicious Princess Hilda, a nasty witch-woman hiding in silk gowns.

The snake table stood on a steel plate. I stretched my visual and olfactory senses to their limits and examined the table, plate, and surrounding stone.

Of course! A faint, musty odor emerged from around the plate. With my back to the camera, I pried up the plate with my knife and smiled when I spied a ladder leading into an underground tunnel. Leaving the plate ajar, I turned to disable the camera observing me. Using my sling, I launched stones at the camera and smacked it on the second try.

The people watching would guess what I had done, so I rushed to push the plate aside and descend into the tunnel. Using a small torch to light my way, I hurried from the maze via the underground path. Minutes later, I peeked from the camouflaged exit, emerged into a stand of trees, and hustled through the lush forest toward the edge of the kingdom.

Half a mile later, almost to the safety of the kingdom’s border, galloping horses surrounded me. Ten mounted soldiers aimed rifles at my chest. The Princess pointed her sword and spoke. “Congratulations on surviving the maze. I offer you your life in exchange for the gold bars. Otherwise, you die. You have ten seconds to decide.”

My throat closed. Princess Hilda smirked. She raised her hand, preparing to signal the soldiers. I squeaked out, “I accept your offer.”

“Good choice, my future husband. We will return to the palace and announce our marriage to King William and the subjects in our kingdom. You will sleep in my bed tonight and we will marry in three days. Mount this spare horse and ride with us. There is no escape, now or forever.”

I mounted the horse and rode back to the palace, surrounded by soldiers. My stomach churned as I thought about marrying the witch-princess.

During the next seven years, I sired three girls. Soon thereafter, King William died under mysterious circumstances, which elevated Princess Hilda to the throne as Queen. Our fourth child was a son, the eventual heir to the kingdom.

Queen Hilda, my wife, was a cruel and vindictive wife and mother who terrorized everyone. Her secret team of assassins tortured and killed hundreds of people during her reign of terror.

I lived in fear. Because I had sired a male heir, I knew I was expendable. The game is rigged against me.