Chapter 0

It was a brilliant, bright, hot morning. The sun was white in a cornflower-blue sky. And on a mountaintop reclining chairs. The eleven-year-old had a big green umbrella over him, obstructing the sun and blocking him from the six-year-old Chinese girl beside him. All she could see of the boy were his thin, white trousers and his turquoise suede slippers that soaked up the searing heat.

The small girl was wearing a silver dress with shiny shoes to match, and her hair was whipped up into the shape and texture of a pinecone. She wore rouge on her cheeks and solid gold bangles around her wrists. Her mouth was small and pinched, while her almond-shaped brown eyes were sharp and bright.

Sitting quietly at a table on the lawn in front of them were two men dressed in red, pom-pom-covered circus outfits. The table was laid with two lidded, clear plastic boxes that were full of wriggling orange centipedes.

"Your turn," the little girl insisted, sipping from a pink cocktail glass.

"All right. I ask your pawn this," the hidden boy replied. "Why were the experiments to make flies the size of dogs stopped?"

There was a pause as the pom-pom man in front of the girl thought. Then he answered in a flat voice, "Because they concentrated on making vegetables grow bigger instead."

"WRONG!" shouted the tiny girl, hurling the contents of her glass so that it drenched him. "You are an IDIOT! You had ten hours on the machine yesterday! You should have picked that up! It serves you RIGHT! You're going to have to eat one!"

Obediently the man lifted the lid off his box of centipedes and picked one up, pinching it between his finger and thumb so that it didn't wriggle away. Then, without even a murmur of objection, he placed it at the back of his tongue and shut his mouth quickly. As he munched, the little centipede tried to escape. Briefly seeing the light enter the man's mouth, it saw a slim opportunity to dive for freedom. But the man felt it on his lip and, prodding it back into his mouth again, ruined it's chances of ever getting away. Grimacing, he mashes it up with his teeth and swallowed.

"Yes, they are nasty, aren't they?" the little girl taunted. "Nasty and bitter! Well, you shouldn't have let me down. I'm four points behind now because of you!"

"Why don't we stop?" the boy under the umbrella said. "I think your player is feeling sick. That's his fourth centipede."

"Serves him right!" the little girl said vindictively. "And anyway, Micky, don't be silly-it's only a game."