Games Even the mighty like to play. When genies play games, the objects of their attention must learn the rules. And fast.

Leprechauns hide their gold at the end of the rainbow. The Vikings thought it was a bridge to Asgard. To Christians and Jews it is a covenant written in the sky. Modern men think it is light refracted through water droplets suspended in the sky.

None of them are right.

It is not the ends of the rainbow that matter but the thing itself. It is not a sign or a promise or a reflection. The rainbow is the intrusion of an otherworldly realm into our own. Light scatters in terror at the interloping world, the first sign of the destruction that will fall upon all of reality should it get any further.

It is strange indeed that destruction looks so beautiful.

When genies meet in the City of Brass, rainbows multiply on Earth. People stare and point and even take pictures. Fewer than one in a million quakes in terror, knowing what is coming.

“Game on. Ready– go.”

“Hold on there. Let’s make it a little more fun.”

“What do you have in mind, sweet cheeks?”

“No taking our bottles. We find new ones.”

“Don’t be an idiot, I’m not traveling without my bottle.”

“Scared to operate without your crutch? Can’t do it on your own?”

“Fine. New bottles.”

“And you. No cheating.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Now. Go.”

And there were no genies in the City of Brass.

---

Darren looked away from the window before slinking to his room. He already knew what he’d see outside. He could hear them outside chanting and shouting at him.

His mother watched him sadly as he marched up the stairs like he was going to the gallows. She didn’t say a word, and that cut deeper than the chanting crowd outside. Darren knew she believed him, she’d said so. Sometimes he thought he saw something different. She had doubts.

The letter was on his desk.

“The National High School Triathlon Competition has considered your appeal. Your invitation to compete this year remains rescinded. As your school suspension is of indefinite length you do not qualify for this event. Our organization does not tolerate sexual assault.”

It was just one in a pile of letters, but it hurt more than the rest. He’d attended the State competition for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d made it to Nationals. He had a solid shot at winning. Now gone.

While getting kicked out of Nationals hurt, he knew he had bigger problems to face. The meeting yesterday with his lawyer laid it all out.

“It’s a good deal they’re offering. No jail time, just community service and supervised probation. It also avoids the publicity that’s sure to follow with a trial.”

“But Darren would go on the sex offender’s registry,” his father pointed out. “That would kill his college chances and job opportunities. No. We won’t do it.”

The lawyer paused, and Darren knew bad news was coming. “I’ll be blunt, Mr. Hamn. The registry won’t make a difference. This case has gotten too much press. Darren will not be admitted to any major school. He’s going to have to settle for a community college. I’m afraid his employment options are similarly limited.”

That hit his father like a blow, and Darren flinched. “No,” his Dad insisted. “Darren didn’t molest that girl and we’re not going to say he did. If the judge finds him innocent, it’s got to–” He trailed off helplessly.

His mother looked like she was about to say something but she just leaned over and put her hand on his Dad’s arm. She wanted to take the deal, but she wouldn’t fight with Dad. She believed Darren, he hoped, but she was tired of the pressure and didn’t think they could win.

“We’ll talk about it again later,” the lawyer hedged, “the offer’s good for two weeks. Let’s go over your story,” he turned to Darren. “It’s important that you don’t change anything.”

“It’s not a story,” he insisted, “It’s the truth.”

“Of course,” the lawyer said without the slightest pretense he believed it.

“I’d asked Sally out a few times and…”

“How many and when,” interrupted the lawyer.

“Three times. The first was to a Halloween party, then the winter dance, and then last month to go to a movie. She always said no, but that last time she cut me down pretty hard. So, yeah, I got pissed off and called her a bitch, and then I wanted to get back at her so I started telling people that she’d given Satoru a hand job in return for letting her cheat off him in a math test.”

“I will advise you again that I don’t recommend admitting to bullying or harassment. Juries will hold that against you,” the lawyer said.

“Well, I did,” Darren admitted. He might have been ashamed of himself if not for what followed. His tribulations had washed his sins from him so he was as pure as the driven snow. “It’s the only reason I can think of for what she did.

“It was two weeks after that, and her friend Cathy asked me out behind the bleachers after school. I mean, I thought she wanted to fool around so I went with her. We just talked, that was all. Yeah, I copped a feel when we were done, but I thought that’s what she wanted and she didn’t complain.

“The first I heard about Sally was when the police came to question me. I never touched Sally. I hadn’t even seen her since English class that afternoon.”

“But no one saw you go behind the bleachers. Do you have any witnesses?”

“Cathy saw me,” he muttered sullenly. He knew what the answer was already.

“She denies it. It’s your word against hers.”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Very well. I will warn you again,” he said to Darren and his parents, “against talking to the press. I know there are a lot of nasty stories out there, but we’re better off if the prosecution does not know our defense until discovery. We have a much better chance of poking holes in their story if they can’t prepare. Bad though the publicity may be, jail is worse.”

Darren hadn’t been in school since that day, since Sally’s parents got a restraining order keeping him 1000 feet away from her. Nationals was pretty much the only thing he had to look forward to, since they were a few hundred miles away from her. Now he didn’t even have that.

His wall of trophies sat there mocking him, knowing he’d never add any important ones to it. In a fit of rage he grabbed one and almost threw it at the wall. Stopping just in time, he put it back and rubbed off his fingerprints. It wouldn’t do to have someone outside get this on their cell phone and make him look prone to fits of rage.

“Thanks buddy. I wasn’t looking forward to hitting the wall there. Mighta gotten mad if you busted up my home.”

There was a small green man with a large head and antennae sitting on his dresser. Very small. Less than a foot high.

“Gazoo?”

“Son of a– You’d think Bill Hanna would have been more grateful for those wishes. Instead he’s made me a bloody laughingstock. No. I am not Gazoo,” the little guy practically yelled. While going through his tirade he floated off the dresser and hovered in midair. Just like in the Flintstones.

“Got it,” Darren said quickly. “So what do I call you?”

“Kazam,” he answered. Then added, “Yeah, I know. Alla Kazam. That’s me. Another guy I helped a long time ago. Let it go.”

“OK, sure. Kazam, are you here to…”

“You betcha. Your problems are solved. I’m here to grant you” he paused dramatically and lifted his tiny arms over his head, “three wishes.”

“Oh God. Thank you.” His prayers were answered. He wanted to believe it so badly he didn’t question it. A genie. Sure, no problem. “You can save me from this nightmare. I wish–”

“Hold on, kid,” the tiny floating green man cautioned, “it’s not that simple. There are some conditions on the wishes.”

“What are they? It doesn’t matter,” he rushed to say.

“It matters, boyo, it matters. See, if you get any of your wishes wrong, if you don’t meet the conditions, you don’t get any of them. So pay attention. And I don’t mean pay attention like you do at school where you nod along while I’m talking, I mean pay attention like you have to listen if you want to get any wishes.”

Darren nodded and listened.

“You must make all three wishes before I grant any of them. Each wish must contain a comparison; greater, less than, same as, I don’t care. I can grant the wish by changing either side of the comparison.”

Kevin looked confused, so Kazam clarified, “OK, let’s say you wish you had as much money as Bill Gates. I can do that by having you come into billions, or Mr. Microsoft can meet a sudden disaster and his bank account will be equal to yours. Got it now?”

He nodded. The crowd outside was still chanting about justice and vengeance, but if he could make the right wishes they’d soon stop.

---

Darren thought.

He wanted to wish that Sally would tell the truth, or that she’d never accused him in the first place, but he couldn’t see how to do that with Kazam’s rules.

“What’re all these trophies for anyway,” the diminutive genie asked.

“Triathlon, mostly. A few other track and field, but it’s mostly triathlon.”

“You must be good at it then. Gonna wish to be as good as the best?”

“No chance,” he replied, surprising himself with his vehemence. His dreams of glory had turned to ashes with the rejection letter on his desk. They wouldn’t even give him a chance. It was a bitter pill to swallow and he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

No, it was more than that. He’d seen his parents’ fear. He was a good athlete - no, he was a great one. But that was all. If he lost that, and he’d seen how easy it was to lose, he lost everything. He shouldn’t be worrying so much about the future, but he couldn’t help it when he saw the panic in his father’s eyes.

Now he had a chance, if he used it right, to get out of the whole mess. He was through with triathlon, through with athletics. It all fell apart too easily. He’d give his parents a better reason to be proud of him.

“Too bad,” said the genie, “I like sports wishes. It gives me an excuse to watch the events. Still, just as likely I’d have ruined the other guy for fun,” an evil grin spread across his tiny face, “and you might like watching him. So probably a good choice.”

“There’s that too,” Darren mumbled. The wishes could go either way. He might better his situation or make someone else’s worse.

It made his first wish an easy one.

“I wish Sally was in more trouble than I am now.”

That should do. She could get in a lot of trouble, or he’d get out of it. Either way was fine with him.

“I can work with that,” said Kazam mysteriously. He floated over Darren’s head for a few minutes while the boy thought about his next two wishes.

Already he could feel the temptation to get back into sports, mixed with his revulsion of the same idea. No. School. He would concentrate on school, make his parents proud, and get himself the skills he’d need. He could just wish for smarts or grades, but he still liked to compete. An edge, that was all he needed.

“I wish I studied for school even more than Satoru.”

“And one more,” the genie cried while lying down on his back in midair.

One more wish.

His friends, or people he thought were his friends, deserted him after he was arrested. Even his oldest friend, Sam, stopped talking to him as his trial became a full blown scandal. He could get back at them.

But then he thought about his parents. They disagreed how to handle this, but his mother always supported Dad, and they were both stronger for it. He wouldn’t get in trouble with girls again if he had someone like that.

“I wish I had someone who loved and trusted me as much as Mom does Dad.”

“Got it,” Kazam said and vanished with a pop.

---

Darren walked to the window. The chanting was still going. He could see the crowd through the blinds. He waited for another pop.

The rejection letter from Nationals was still on his desk. No luck there either. He’d wanted all his problems to just go away.

He shook his head, wondering for a moment if he was going crazy. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. No, it was too weird. He couldn’t have made it up, it had to be real.

Even suspended, he still had schoolwork. It was hard to concentrate so he was way behind. It also wasn’t going to get better on its own so he pulled out a history book and started reading. He read for over an hour before he wondered if that was an effect of his wish. He hoped so; he didn’t have anything against Satoru and didn’t really want to see his work suffer.

He suddenly realized what he’d done. His wish might have made Satoru slack off in school. He didn’t really care about the bookworm, but his last wish might break up his parents.

“G– Good night, Mom,” he called. “Where’s Dad?”

“On the phone, hon. Don’t interrupt him. Good night.”

He couldn’t tell if he’d done anything to them. He was too tired to find out. He stumbled to his bed and fell fast asleep.

And woke to police sirens.

He leapt from bed and fell flat on the floor. He was all wrong, shorter, no muscles. He was wearing a nightshirt rather than his PJ’s. Hair past his shoulders, and weight on his chest.

And there was too much noise and commotion outside to concentrate but he had to.

Something was seriously wrong.

He wasn’t himself.

Stumbling to the door he hit the light switch like it was going to hit back. There was a pretty girl staring back at him from the mirror. She moved with him, it was him. It wasn’t his room either.

His door slammed open, a policeman moved smoothly into the room, gun drawn.

“Against the wall,” he ordered Darren as his partner followed him into the room. Darren followed orders, and a moment later the officer asked him, “Are you all right? Have you seen or heard anyone come through here?”

“No,” he answered and grabbed at his throat. The high pitched voice coming from his mouth wasn’t his. The police either didn’t notice his reaction or put it off to fear. “I was asleep. I didn’t hear anything until your sirens.”

The second officer said, “Please come with me. I’ll take you to your Aunt and Uncle. Just stay calm, miss.”

He didn’t know what was going on.

It had to have something to do with the wish, but he couldn’t see what. He felt strange. His body was so much weaker than he was used to, and his balance was way off. He stumbled on the stairs and nearly fell. This girl’s body was awkward and clumsy.

“What happened,” he asked as soon as he saw his parents.

“Pam, thank heavens you’re all right,” his mother screamed as she enveloped him in a deep hug. She didn’t let go, just started crying right into his shoulder. He hugged her back, trying to figure out what was going on.

“It’s… It’s Darren,” his father finally said when his mother backed away and they all sat down. “He’s missing. The police caught that girl Sally running away from the house. Oh God. She had a knife and we don’t know…” He’d never seen his father cry before. No matter how bad the crowds or stories got he’d always been a rock. Not now.

He couldn’t tell his father the truth. No one would believe him. He also couldn’t bear to watch him suffer without doing anything.

He gave his father a hug. “It’ll be all right Uncle Andy. It has to be,” he said, remembering the policeman told him they were his Aunt and Uncle.

He knew his father well. He couldn’t let a girl suffer, and soon his father was hugging him back to try to give him strength. “We’ll wait here while the police search the house, then try to find out where she took our boy,” he croaked helplessly.

While they waited Darren looked around the room. A new picture on the wall stood out. His Uncle James and Aunt Lorraine, his mother’s sister, hadn’t been there before. They’d died when he was just a boy, their little girl with them. Their little girl, Pam. Same age as him. But now she hadn’t died. She had moved in with them. She was in the family pictures, with her parents and Darren, with him.

He had a sinking feeling that no one would ever find Darren.

And that Sally was going to be in far more trouble than he was.

It was a long and unpleasant night. The police sealed his old room and did not let any of them in, but he saw blood on the walls when they opened the door. His parents held each other through the vigil, and he found some minor relief that he didn’t destroy their marriage.

The crowd that had been harassing Darren started to reassemble as soon as the sun came up. For a change it didn’t get started. The police cars put them off and most people left without demonstrating. Some braver souls asked what happened and left hurriedly when they found out that Darren had been attacked. Only one person had the bad taste to cheer the news, and Darren rejoiced when a cop started questioning him.

A small scuffle by the side of the house drew his attention - her attention, if she could ever get used to thinking of herself as a girl. He heard his father say “Let him in, we know him.”

His old friend Sam was just hearing that he was dead. “No, I can’t believe it,” he insisted. His father tried to tell him more, but was having trouble getting the words out.

Darren pulled Sam aside. “Pam, I’m so sorry to hear. I hope they find him, he might still be…” Despite his shock, Sam was trying to cheer him up - Darren was already getting tired of everyone assuming he was frail.

“Sam, it’s all right. It’s me. It’s Darren,” he whispered. “There are genies. I made a wish, and this happened. It got me out of the whole trial, but…”

“Darren? Really? That’s– well, that’s fantastic.”

“That’s all it takes? You believe me?”

“Of course,” he answered simply. “If you say so, then I trust you.”

His third wish. Love and trust. Like his mother for his dad.

Sam? With him?

That sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach returned with a vengeance.