THE SEVENTH EVENT

by Phillip Shaw

  ‘The bad guy always wins.' Pamela laughed, ‘It's all about the dance, bring him out, raise the temper of the crowd they have him win by dubious means. The hook makes you return again and again hoping for that one day when he gets his comeuppance. Judging by the size of the crowd and the media coverage this one has been waiting for that moment for some time.'

  The cynical dismissal of the action about to unfold in front of him did nothing to quell the emotions rising within Libero. He knew they were mostly from the memories of the body he now inhabited but there were others. His own feelings were rising within him, memories of a distant past that was all too recent to him. The combatants in the ring dwarfed the tiny official and the fight began with a period of posturing in front of each other. The thinner man struck first, as the fans hero was seeking more adulation from the corner post the other struck from behind. The crowd again showed their dissatisfaction as their hero was pummelled in the corner. Libero noticed here that despite the fierce beating there were no signs of lasting damage, no blood no broken bones yet the power of the blows raining down didn't cease, suddenly the hero was holding the ropes, feeding off the energy of the crowd he stamped his foot in time with their claps each clap raised him closer and closer to an equal footing until finally he was there and about to strike the blow the crowd longed for. The lithe man seeing what was about to happen grabbed his opponent by the hair and trailed him back to the ground. The groans of the crowd were mirrored by Libero.

  ‘See told you. That will happen in every match on this card, sometimes the bad guys win and occasionally the good guys win. Some people even grow to love the bad guys. It's all carefully controlled by the people who run it. The CEO they mentioned earlier, he runs this circus and we will probably see him at some stage.'

  Libero didn't rise to it, he like the others fixated in the ring where the tide was slowly turning. The hero had withstood a good ten minutes punishment but now it was his turn, he pushed the enemy into the corner and straddling him began punching him on the top of the head, the crowd counted out the punches until it hit double figures then he threw the man down in the middle of the ring like a rag doll. With his opponent lying in the middle of the ring, the hero climbed the ring-post. The crowd willing him on he leaped into the air showing no regard for his own safety, his full weight came crashing down on his opponents head via his right leg and the crowd rose as one to acclaim him. The enemy near vanquished, Libero was no longer looking at the ring, his gaze was looking at the battlefield.

  The fight had raged from early morning to dusk, the forces were now equally matched. Libero stood at the back his generals tired but encouraged by their success so far. The battle still raged on in the distance, his advanced forces were trying to hold the position they had secured while those who needed it got a much-needed break. They gathered in small groups eager to go back into the fray. Libero knew other generals in a position like this may need to give a rousing speech, pick the men and women up from their dead legs for one final push. There was no need for that in this force, the army fought under the guidance of Libero but they were fighting for freedom, he had shown them the path, what they could achieve and what they fought for, no there was no need for inspiration just formation.

  Suddenly another group arrived, Libero turned, what had been one of his most skilled sets of soldiers now looked decimated, their leader Sarki a fearsome warrior woman, skilled in her use of a hammer and sling was being carried by four of her soldiers. Libero rushed to her side to see what was going on. Laying a hand on her shoulder she recoiled in pain at the palpation. He looked for her thoughts, what had been the heart of a lion, fully committed to the fight was now a broken soul, fearful, timid and without the will to live let alone fight again. He needed to know. ‘Sarki, what happened?' her eyes were like mist, the clarity is gone she began speaking slowly.

  ‘He has joined the battle, I faced him, the armies parted, it was just him, he didn't need any others, I tried but he… he's unnatural, he knew what I was doing, he never needed to block any of my swings, he struck first. We cannot beat him, all is lost, there's no point….'

  The life faded from her in convulsions, Libero kept his hand tight on her mouth and nose until it was over. She was gone to him anyway. All four limbs were broken from what looked like four separate strikes, it was a message. The enemy could decimate his forces if needed but instead, he chose one of his best, singled them out and broke them mentally and physically. The time for tactics would soon pass, he had to join the battle, they must weaken him before the end.

  The images faded in his mind and his head ached for a brief moment. His attention turned back to the ring, the crowd favourite had been interrupted and the villain was making a comeback. The source of the interruption had walked down the ramp. The posters he had seen on the way in identified him as the promoter, Alex Avery. The middle ages man still had plenty of muscle on his frame and a full head of black hair. He was standing beside the announce table gesticulating at the in ring hero. As he was doing so the villain approached from behind with a folding steel chair, despite the protestations of the crowd the distracted hero could do nothing, he was spun around and grabbed by the head, moments later after a swift twist his head was driven into the mat. The referee counted to three and the crowd erupted in fury. The promoter took to the ring with the microphone to antagonise them even more but another feeling was in Libero's head, fear and hatred, he looked around Pamela had a crazed look in her eye. He grabbed her by the arm to hold her down, she recoiled at his touch. He knew that look. She spoke sweat already beginning to break on her forehead. ‘He's not normal we have to stop him, we have to do it now!'

  It was as Libero feared; Pamela had become a fully-fledged denouncer in his presence. He had released her mind and she had become this, but she was raw, she had not experienced a Magister in the flesh until now. He sought her mind, it was a conflict of fear and hatred, he released it further. He couldn't remove the fear or hatred but he let her see that this is why they fight, this is the cause, they need to free the whole world. She calmed feeling his presence but the anger was still there, it would take much training to hold back the hatred and feeling of murder in someone as young as Pamela he knew. Now fixated on the promoter he looked for any sign of how many were under his control. The two in the ring appeared to be but none of the crowd. Then without warning a large rumble echoed out of the speakers as the promoter threw the microphone down. Four hooded men were running towards the ring, taking steps at a time on their approach, the promoter made for the exit as the men approached and was surrounded by two pairs of black clothed guards. The crowd screamed for blood but Libero knew this wasn't part of the show. Fate had drawn him to this arena and now it was about to reveal why.

  26. Underground

  Libero watched cautiously as a leader emerged among the four men in the ring. He bent down and picked up the microphone as his three companions armed with small automatic weapons kept the security forces back from the ring. Dressed in what looked like normal attire for the crowd the only distinguishing features were small black masks which had been pulled up to eye level to cover the face. The leader was clearly in control, the other three invaders to the arena stared towards him when they had finished their tasks, seeking instruction hanging for his words.

  Pamela who had only calmed herself after seeing the magister now sat in awe as well, the crowd who once thought this was an elaborate part of the show were slowly realising that there could be danger in the offing. The leader with an air of confidence tapped the microphone and began speaking in a clear low voice.

  ‘Let me introduce ourselves. We are the prophets of reality; we are the harbingers of freedom. The world you live in is not free, it is under control and you should feel privileged to be witnesses at ground zero of the fight back. It is only through pain that we can prosper, the man in charge of this show is in charge of more than you know. It's time to start cutting some strings!'

  As if waiting for that signal mo
re members emerged from the crowd, faces that had been visible but unmemorable were now hidden behind scarves, hoods or masks, at a quick count Libero noticed maybe twenty dotted around the arena. He looked for the supposed Magister and saw that his security guard had rushed him through to the back area, all the security involved with the event had pulled back leaving the crowd at the mercy of the interlopers. No doubt they either knew what he was or were under his control. Whatever was about to happen gave Libero a bad feeling. He needed to stay safe but in front of him were the people he had been searching for, but he wasn't in a position of strength, no one knew him he needed to get close to them.

  The crowd now started to move at a pace to the exits but they were being corralled to remain in their seats by the armed attackers. The leader in the ring was just standing, surveying the situation, Libero needed to get close enough to feel what was going on inside his head. He turned to Pamela. ‘They are what we need, we have to get close to them.'

  ‘Are you mad? Look at them; do you think they are here to give us a philosophical debate? They have guns and who knows what else in those packs in the ring. You want us to try reasoning with them? We need to get out of here.'

  Showing her growing confidence Pamela left her seat and purposefully moved to the back of the aisle, the seating in the dome was like an old coliseum the further you went towards the back the closer you got to the exits, the exits that were being guarded. Libero moved in beside her, feeling for the first time a twinge of pain in his hamstrings, the result of the nervous energy returning to his body and the exertions of the prison escape. The bodies of this age are weak.

  Pamela reached striking distance of the first guard but held her position behind a large man frozen to the spot in fear, reaching down she lifted a soft drinks container and held it in her hands, the young but burly guard held his weapon and made sure it was visible to the terrified crowd. Pamela waited until the scan of their vision looked the other way before throwing the container into the face. Either the force of the blow or the shock of the cold ice caused the follower to stumble backwards and a shot fired off harmlessly into the air conditioning ducts high overhead. All eyes were suddenly trained on Pamela and Libero as she tried to make a run for it, Libero stood on the chest of the stricken man as he made off down the hallway after her. He began yelling after Pamela but there was no stopping her now, she was reaching the potential mentally and physically that her body didn't even know it could. Libero sprinted at full pace to reach her, grabbing her by the shoulder he spun her towards him and the pace took them on a calculated tumble into a restroom.

  Placing his hand to his lips he settled her down as the voice of the leader in the ring boomed out over the speakers.

  ‘It seems we have a couple of heroes who are going to ruin the enlightenment for the rest of us. We don't have time to wait, either give up or we will begin making an example of some of the members of this capacity crowd. I'm not coming looking for you. You will be like the rest, you will come to me.'

  Pamela looked at him, ‘He isn't coming for us we can get out of here now.'

  libero knew what he had to do as soon as he heard the man speak You will come to me; he was here to show the people of this world what they could be. He could have been the one in that ring making the speech. It was time to gather more soldiers.

  ‘Pamela, we can't, we have to confront these men. They are who we have been looking for; they must be drawn to me. It's no coincidence that we made it to this arena. The battle is approaching and the opposing forces of nature are being gathered. It's time see if my full power has returned. I used to walk into villages full of people like this, unguided souls who could feel what was wrong but couldn't put a face or a name to it. I turned them into the army we need, I freed them, helped them realise what they could be just like I have done with you. I freed your mind and look now, you are utilising your full potential. I have to do the same for them.'

  ‘I'm waiting. We don't have all night.' The voice boomed over the tannoy. Libero and Pamela emerged back at the entrance and immediately two armed attackers were behind them and pushing the barrel of their weapons deep into the small of their backs. As they descended the stairs to the ring Libero reached over to Pamela and whispered. ‘They're normal, not controlled by anyone.' He could sense the worry in her but this was what was needed these men believed what they were doing. He looked at the man he was about to face in the ring. Standing there with bleached white hair the leader of the group was above average height but quite lean. It would not have been inconceivable that he was one of the participants in the show. His mask was still over his mouth and nose but he had piercing blue eyes that focussed squarely on the two being brought to the ring. He smiled as they were pushed into the ring on their knees before him. ‘My name is Jenson Kane.'

  Kane looked at the two figures before him; it had all been going so smoothly. He hadn't expected any trouble from the crowd after the devil left with his private army. This was to be his night of revelation, his statement of intent to whatever shadow army was controlling this country. Now before him he saw what he feared most, two innocent have a go heroes who he had to deal with. He looked at his band of freedom fighters. They couldn't see what he saw every day but they believed him, he had been able to show them enough coincidence that they believed in the cause. How far will I have to go for the cause? The pair in front of him showed little fear, the female was pretty with long blonde hair but her face had not seen makeup recently and the clothes were dishevelled. The male was much more intriguing. He looked like the kind of person who had charisma and confidence. Kane figured he must have something going for him because his looks alone would not have attracted his partner. Whatever happened in the next few moments Kane knew he had to see this night out or else all the plans he had would be in turmoil.

  ‘Well, well let's have a look at our heroes, one of each our very own superheroes. What did you think you could do? Get outside and bring the police in? I've got news for you and every other fool in this crowd, the police are gone. They left with that demon Avery, like everything else in this building it's all under his control. He's like a cancer in the state. So I ask you all, what do you do with cancer?'

  The crowd stared watching as he reached into one of the four backpacks his followers had brought to the ring. ‘You Poison it.'

  The bags contained gas canisters, the people in the crowd now panicking and looking for an unguarded exit would be too late the gas while not fatal would cause enough of a stir in the media that his group would be public. The only problem was in front of him. He looked at the man again who stared him in the eye. He looked different, somehow he felt in charge despite his kneeling position. He tried to clear his thoughts but they were all focussed on the man in front who only looked at him and smiled. I can't kill him, I just can't, he could help us, could help me, he will be in the group. I'll have to bring him with us. The man in front continued smiling. Kane had made his choice, ‘Grab them, they're coming with us. Set the timers for ninety seconds.'

  Libero felt the man's emotions, he was a denouncer, he didn't know why or anything else but he felt the power the magister had and knew it was unnatural. It must have taken great self-control not to fly at him in a murderous rage like Pamela had wanted to do. The hoods were placed over their heads and he felt movement. They were being dragged at pace from the ring, he heard Pamela stumble over, felt her fear but then relief she was beginning to believe in him, his way was what felt natural. He hoped that this leader would feel the same; he knew the man didn't mean to murder the crowd, only to shock them into reality. He would need to guide this leader as he had before. He felt the potential in him, it had to be released.

  The men dragged the two hostages from the ring as the canisters in the ring opened, the gas inside hissed and quickly filled the arena, quickly those in the first rows began dropping to the floor, screams engulfed the remainder as they feared for their lives. The guards still at the exits watched on, emotionless their mas
ks revealing the dual purpose as the gas had no effect on them. When the arena lay motionless the masked men turned and went to the exits the collection of vans waited by the entranceway. There was no sign of any law enforcement, all was still. Kane looked back into the arena at the lying bodies, he felt different, the elation of the operation flowed through his veins, I can make the difference. I am a prophet of reality.

  Libero felt the elation, he didn't need to see what was going on to know. He had found another soldier. He heard the van doors closing and again he was on the move.

  27. Pieces

  The screens lit up in front of Blain. The world seemed to be crumbling around him for the first time in years. Previous incidents in his tenure here had been one-offs. A monarch dying here, a terror attack or natural disaster there all of them easily manipulated and covered up. Now Blain sat with Tatum taking notes before her news show wondering what he was going to do about the latest series of events. To the world, they were a series of trivial newsworthy incidents occurring by happenstance. To Blain, they were the signals to the end of the world order he had helped perpetuate. The raising of the temple in Burma, the death of Tyler Hutchens, the riot and massacre at a US state prison and now the latest and most bizarre event, the sedation of a stadium full of wrestling fans and the abduction of two people from the crowd. All of them newsworthy but the connection was his kind, his secret, his gift, in fact, the connection was Thomas Blain's world and now he needed to patch the pieces of it together long enough to remain in his lofty position until the end.