Simia

by Paris Singer

  “You want to do basic moves, or go all out?” I asked.

  “Depends what you mean by basic, kid. None of my moves have anything to do with basic.”

  I smiled. “We’ll see.”

  ***

  Sally ran at me, cartwheeled and jumped, bringing the heel of his foot down toward the top of my head. I crossed my forearms above me, blocking his attack. As he landed, I sent my knee shooting up to his chin, but he dodged it by back-flipping away.

  Without hesitation, I ran and rolled forward on the ground to where he stood. Just as my feet pointed toward his chest, I pushed myself off the ground and shot upward. Sally tried to avoid my attack by leaning back, but it was too late—my feet hit his chest hard, though not before he’d swung his foot up and kicked my back. No sooner did we both crash to the ground than we were back on our feet.

  “You’re not too bad, kid,” panted Sally.

  “You’re okay, yourself,” I replied.

  “Whoa,” said his father, “you have some serious moves there.”

  “What’s going on here?” From somewhere near the Sphere cage came an angry bellow. I turned and saw a male Simian hurrying toward us. He was tall and had a blue holographic replacement where his left arm once must have been. As he approached, I noticed his nose and upper jaw had also been replaced by a chrome plate.

  “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” His voice had a slight lisp.

  “He’s here with us, Brong,” said Sally’s father.

  “Who brought him here?” asked Brong, shifting his gaze from one of us to the next.

  “I did,” replied Sally.

  “You know the rules—no unauthorized visitors of any kind without first consulting me. The Council has its spies looking for gyms like these. They find this place, we all go down. Got it?”

  “I know this guy, and I can vouch for him one hundred percent. He’s not some spy. He’s just like us: a Sphere player.”

  “Lay off ‘em, Brong, they’re kids.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” said the man, scowling at Sally’s father. “Age has nothing to do with it. If only one of us slips up, if only one of us reveals this place to a spy, they could put us all away for the rest of our days. Can you understand that?” Brong turned to face me. “He’s just like us? He’s a Sphere player? Fine—we’ll find out soon enough.” He turned to face the cage. “You two—out. Rinka,” Brong pointed to the largest, meanest-looking player I’d ever seen, “You’re in—found you an opponent.”

  “Brong—no. He’s just a kid. They’re not even in the same class.”

  “If he really is what he says he is, he won’t mind going up against Rinka, will he?”

  “You’re crazy—Rinka hasn’t lost a match in his career—he’ll kill him.”

  Brong squared up to Sally’s father. “Those are my terms if he wants to stay. We’ll soon find out if he’s a spy.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Seven.” Sally whispered. “Brong’s just got a nervous stick up his butt. Probably still sore about being demoted from coach to assistant coach by losing to someone better than him. Now he thinks everybody’s a spy for the Council.”

  “No, I’ll do it. He’s right: if I can’t beat him I have no right to be here.”

  “Seven, listen to me,” said Sally’s father, grabbing my shoulders, “Rinka’s crazy. No one plays against him—he never holds back. He only goes up against other clubs.”

  “That’s enough,” said Brong. He turned to face me. “So what’s it to be? Are you really a player of Sphere?”

  I took a deep breath. “I am.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  “Follow me.” Brong led the way as the other players watched. Rinka had already stepped inside and was pacing left and right, howling. The closer I got to him, the bigger and more threatening he seemed to become. His bald gray head looked like a jaconi prune, with a prominent brow that all but obscured his small eyes. Rinka’s nose had two vertical slits in the middle of his face, below his eyes. His big mouth housed large, pointed yellow and black teeth, with thick translucent strings of drool oozing from them. I hoped I wouldn’t slip on the gathering gooey puddles during our match. Perhaps because he was twice my size and so was too big to wear a full uniform, Rinka’s ghostly pale torso was exposed, revealing an upper half fraught with almost as many burns and scars as he had muscles. I didn’t know to which race he belonged, so wasn’t certain if the fact I could see his golden metal ribs was a characteristic, or resulted from an injury he’d sustained. Rinka’s hands were just as massive as his head and seemed powerful enough to crush any opponent with little effort.

  “In you go, Sphere player,” said Brong, nodding to the steps that led to the cage.

  “You don’t need to do this, kid,” said Sally’s father. “There’s other ways to show him you’re not a spy.”

  I had faced countless opponents who, while not as big or menacing as Rinka, were just as savage. Size wasn’t everything in the sport of Sphere.

  “No, I want to do this,” I said, and walked up the steps.

  “You’ll need this,” said Brong, throwing an old-looking helmet at me.

  I stepped inside and put it on. It was a tight fit. Rinka continued pacing left and right, his eyes locked on me. The cage door slammed shut, echoing all around.

  “I assume as you’re a Sphere player, you know the rules,” Brong said, sneering at me. “Best of ten. Players ready?”

  I released the ball that was attached to the light-chain from the gauntlet; it clanged on the hard surface as did Rinka’s. The sound seemed louder than I remembered. All the other players had gathered around the cage to watch.

  “Begin.”

  My whole body tensed, ready for the match against Ranki. I had expected him to charge at me from the beginning; but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, watching me. Was he sizing me up? Well, I wouldn’t give him the chance to. I dashed toward my opponent, then up the left wall of the cage, and jumped. I twisted my body vertically, making the heavy ball spin around with me. When I was near Ranki, I brought the light-chain up to my side, and quickly down, sending the ball shooting toward his head. From the corner of my eye I saw something that glinted white move through the air and crash against my ball: my opponent had sent his own ball darting upward to collide with mine, blocking my attack.

  I crashed into Ranki’s solid body, then to the floor. I scrambled to my feet and back-flipped away from him, expecting him to attack. Once again, my opponent stood, watching me, strings of drool cascading down from his gaping mouth. He wasn’t giving anything away. He wanted me to attack first. Maybe he was waiting until I made a mistake. I would force him to break his composure. I ran at him. Ranki would try to stop me by swinging his ball down, or his fist. I was almost upon him, but still the behemoth remained unfazed. I jumped and swung the light-chain back and around till the ball screamed toward my opponent.

  As if he’d deduced my attack, Ranki’s forearm was already above his head, blocking my attack again. No sooner had he done so than his massive hand grabbed hold of the light-chain, and he swung me round, tossing me back at full force to where I’d been standing a moment ago.

  I flipped forward midair just in time and landed on the wall of the cage with my feet. As I did, from behind me I heard a deafening clanging getting progressively louder. I propelled myself up and back a split moment before Ranki’s fist smashed against the wall where I’d just been. Faster than I expected, he turned and sent his ball swinging at full speed toward me. No time to dodge it, it hit me hard against my left arm, smashing it. I flew into the wall and crashed down on the floor hard on my back. My whole body felt broken, burning in agonizing pain.

  Moving much faster than someone his size and bulk should, Ranki dashed toward me, fist held high, no doubt to finish me off. I wasn’t sure I could move, but if I didn’t, his blow might kill me. I waited until he was close enough, then with every ounce of my strength, I rocked back to bring my knees against my
chest, sprung up toward my opponent, and wrapped my legs around his neck. Before Ranki could do anything, I head-butted his face twice, as hard as I could before falling back down on the ground.

  My opponent staggered backward, almost falling. He caught himself, shook his head and let off a deafening roar. Looking as though he’d lost his initial composure, Ranki marched toward me, making the whole cage shake with his every step. He dropped the ball and spun it above him. As it came arching down, I rolled back and got to my feet. When the ball crashed down, I propelled myself off it and head-butted Ranki square in the face, sending streams of blue blood from his nose and mouth. He staggered backward again, but grabbed my head before I could land. He used his momentum to swing himself forward, and with an almighty last cry, smashed me down headfirst onto the floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  “Is he dead? Never seen a dead guy before.”

  “I’m okay, Iris. I’m okay,” I groaned.

  “Iris? Who’s this Iris chick?”

  “He’s hallucinating, I guess. Think if I’d had my head pounded into the ground, I’d probably hallucinate, too.”

  “Wait, he’s waking up.”

  I opened my eyes. My vision was blurry. A figure stood over me. I blinked and realized it was Sally’s Capra friend, Sova. I sat up on the floor and brought a hand up to my pounding head. “Ugh, what happened?”

  “You got served, that’s what,” came the deep voice of Milo from somewhere behind me.

  Sally’s father, Tanks, sighed with relief. “Glad you’re awake, kid. Wasn’t sure how bad your injuries were. Used a whole bottle of medi-spray on you, just in case.” I’d missed the clinical smell of medi-spray. No Sphere player could continue to play without it. It healed bones, muscles, lacerations, tears, scratches—everything except internal injuries.

  “Dude, that was impressive,” said Sally, sitting cross-legged next to me. “I can’t remember ever seeing anyone make Ranki bleed before.”

  “It is clear,” said Brong approaching, “that you’ve played this game before. No spy could fake those moves. You did, however, lose. Though you stayed alive and performed quite well against Ranki.”

  “Quite well?” exclaimed Sally. “He was one point away from beating him. If Ranki hadn’t knocked him out, Seven would’ve won.”

  “So, am I in?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  Brong watched me as if deliberating how to answer, then said, “You’re in.”

  There were cheers from around the room, including from Ranki himself.

  “Before you celebrate,” Brong continued, “you need to understand the seriousness of what would happen if you blabbed to anyone about this place or what we do here.”

  “Oh, he’d never tell anyone,” said Sally, slapping me on the back. “Would, ya?”

  “That’s irrelevant. He needs to know the consequences.”

  “What do I need to know?” I asked, looking from Sally to Brong.

  “The lives of everyone in this room are at stake,” began Brong. “We all understand the risk we take by being here: life imprisonment, or worse. So, we cannot afford anyone talking. So, if you want to join, you do so understanding that you will be killed if you talk. Do you understand?”

  The mood changed as the room fell silent. I felt everyone’s gaze on me, waiting for my answer. I quickly realized that just by being there I’d have to agree or die right there. They wouldn’t let me leave, knowing what I knew, unless I joined.

  “I understand, and want to join,” I said with as serious a tone as I could muster. “Sphere is all I have, and I would let nothing jeopardize it.”

  Brong squinted. “Good.” Then, with a smile I was shocked to see, he said, “Welcome aboard. You’re not a bad player, but you’ll definitely need to practice a lot more to hone in those skills.”

  Once again, players from around the room clapped and whooped. I was home.

  ***

  “I knew you’d make it in,” said Tanks.

  “Thanks,” I smiled. “Would I really be killed?”

  Tanks frowned. “Yeah. Our secrecy is vital. It’s why Sally bringing you here was a stupid risk on his part.” Sally looked at the floor as if feeling guilt. “If you’d really been a spy, he’d have lost his life, too. It’s lucky I’m one of the founding members here and have good standing. I don’t think many others would have lived long after pulling that kind of stunt. My position kept you alive long enough to try out, but if you hadn’t been able to play well, you’d probably be dead by now. If not by Ranki, then by everyone else. Probably me or Brong. It’s lucky the new head coach lets us handle our affairs our way.”

  “Oh, yeah, Sally said there was a new coach—where is he?” I said, looking around.

  “No one’s seen him except Brong when he lost to him—that’s how he became head coach and Brong was demoted to assistant coach. So far, he stays up there, probably looking down at us from the office.” I looked up to see a room above that extended halfway into the warehouse, its two sides covered by one reflective window from top to bottom. They were likely one-way mirrors that allowed the coach to observe the gym, but for no-one to see him. It seemed as if the only access to the office was a small elevator against the back wall.

  “I wonder why?” I asked.

  “Brong says he’ll only request to meet the very best of players, but he hasn’t called anyone, yet. Guess he doesn’t think we’re all that great,” Tanks smirked. “He also told Brong never to talk about him. Seems like pointless mystery if you ask me.”

  “Maybe he’s really ugly,” said Sally. “Like with weird limbs all over, or a melted face.” Milo and Sova laughed along with him.

  “Show some respect,” said Tanks. The coach may have quirks, but he’d need to be a helluva Sphere player to beat Brong.

  “Sorry, pop,” said Sally, looking guilty again.

  “Besides, it could be he fears discovery. Making Sphere illegal shook up a lot of people.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, “why is Sphere illegal?”

  Both Tanks, Sally and his friends spat on the floor. “The Council,” said Tanks in a bitter tone. “They made it illegal as soon as they took over.”

  “Took over?”

  “Where’re you from, kid, that you don’t know this stuff? Simia was once a kingdom ruled by queen Darala until those filthy Morex killed her. When that happened, the three head councilmen from each continent came together to rule Simia. Soon after they declared Sphere was too violent and made it illegal across all continents on penalty of life imprisonment. But there’s rumors of a few coaches who ignored the ban going missing, and no one has seen them since. That’s why it’s so important not to talk about the gym, kid; many lives could be lost.”

  “You don’t need to worry—I’ll never tell anyone.”

  “Enough of this talking,” said Sally stretching, “I’m bored. You want to practice?”

  “Sure,” I said, my mind spinning from all the information they had given me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sally and I continued to practice and spar for a while longer until I felt tired.

  “We should probably head back,” I said.

  “Oh, man, I was just getting started. But you’re probably right, kid. Need to get some sleep tonight, right?” he laughed.

  “Does Baby need his nap?” said Sova, standing suddenly behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “Come on, Sova, stop it,” said Sally.

  “Thanks,” I said in a flat tone.

  “He probably just needs his beauty rest,” he laughed, slapping me on the back again.

  “That’s not funny,” I said.

  “You sure ‘bout that?” said Milo, laughing, too.

  “C’mon, kid,” said Sally, “you need to learn to chill a little. Take a joke, you know?”

  “Yeah, we’re just kidding around,” said Sova, bopping my nose.

  “In all seriousness, kid, you’re probably right. We gotta leave so
metime to go to classes and stuff. Let’s go.” Sally said, “Wash,” to clean his suit, and I did the same. We walked to the exit, and after negotiating with the door for a while, we left the Sphere gym.

  “Pretty cool how you handled yourself back there,” said Milo. “Don’t think I could’ve back when I played.”

  “You’re a Sphere player, too?” I asked.

  “Was a player. Stopped a while back—always preferred to watch than play, you know what I mean?”

  “I guess so. Do you play, too?” I asked Sova.

  She laughed. “Me? There ain’t no way you’ll ever see me in a cage. Not my style of fighting,” she winked.

  “Sova was brought up around Sphere,” said Sally. “Her father’s an old-timer, too, like my pop.”

  “Yeah, been hanging in the gym since you could crawl, huh, Sova?”

  “Didn’t have a choice,” she scoffed. “Though it is kinda fun to watch, I admit.”

  “Hey, you guys want to go to the game tonight down at the Bowl?”

  “Who’s playing?” asked Sally.

  “Lebora and some Fumo guy.”

  “Nah, I don’t know, man. Doesn’t sound like all that.”

  “Would give newbie here a chance to see it,” said Milo, nodding at me.

  “Hmm, good point,” replied Sally, scratching his chin. “Sweet—let’s do it. Give the kid one more experience tonight. What do ya say?” he asked, slapping my back. “You in?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Sally and Milo’s expressions changed to express a mixture of shock and confusion at what they’d just heard. “What?” exclaimed Sally. “How can you even say that? You realize we’re talking about a real life game of Sphere, right? It’s not a controlled sparring session like in the gym. We’re talking about real, no holds barred matches here—how can you even think about turning that down?”

  “It’s an ultra-exclusive place, too,” added Milo. “Not somewhere you can just find and go in whenever you feel like it. It’s invitation only, and even then it’s heavily guarded and secretive.”