Max Arena

by Jamie Doyle

  Elsa opened her mouth to ask again, but was cut short by Abdullah.

  ‘India,’ he said. ‘We sourced much of our labour force from India, where we knew there were tens of thousands of willing workers with no families of their own to spend these last few months with. So, we promised them two things if they joined our team. Subsistence in the form of guaranteed food and comfortable shelter and then payment in full of a substantial reward if our civilisation continued beyond the arena.’

  ‘You promised them riches if we all survived?’ Elsa asked. ‘And they bought into that?’

  ‘In their droves and as I am sure you would know,’ Abdullah replied, ‘I would like nothing more than to pay them their riches. The finances are already in place.’

  ‘You said it’s only a small stadium,’ Kris cut in. ‘Who’s invited?’

  Abdullah waved a languid arm towards Joe who stepped forward.

  ‘Select world leaders only,’ he said. ‘There is a coalition within the United Nations that Sheikh Abdullah and I have managed to forge over the last few months, who have assisted each other in many ways to maintain a core of peace and control in the world. Be under no illusion that if this coalition did not exist, anarchy would have overcome us months ago despite the positive impact of Team Max. It is these dignitaries and a few more that will be in attendance. They are allowed to invite any direct and extended family relatives and some close associates if they wish.’

  ‘That won’t fill a twenty thousand capacity stadium,’ Max said. ‘Who’s making up the numbers?’

  ‘The workers,’ Joe answered. ‘We have fifteen thousand on site, so that should go a long way to filling the seats.’

  ‘Clever,’ Max added before throwing his second apple core in the bin.

  The room fell quiet, except for Millie and Jason who were now tickling each other at the table.

  ‘Right,’ Elsa said. ‘I better get these two trouble makers out of here and into class. What time are we off?’

  ‘One o’clock,’ Joe replied. ‘We will convene on the north lawn and go via helicopter shuttle.’

  ‘Not the Black Hawks again?’ Kris said. ‘They’re so noisy.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Kris, but yes,’ Joe said.

  Kris scowled.

  ‘Sir?’ Peter started. ‘Can I cover off a few things with your security chief before we go?’

  ‘Please, do,’ Joe replied. ‘Excuse me, Max?’ May Abdullah and I have a quick word with you and Kris?’

  ‘Sure,’ Max replied as he began peeling a banana. ‘It better be quick though. I’ve got weapons training in half an hour.’

  Joe then led Max, Kris and Abdullah through the dining room and into the living room where they stood clustered around the coffee table. Joe began.

  ‘Max. Kris. We really do need you both to think carefully about what arena details you would like to have designed in and why. We were thinking things such as how weapons are positioned or made available around the arena. Perhaps they could be delivered through portholes in the floor or via windows in the surrounding wall? Also, would you like grass or some sort of synthetic surface on the arena itself? Kris, please also give thought as to how you would like to interact with Max on the night and Max, think about where and how you would like your family to be accommodated. This is just as important as weapons distribution as we want to make sure you have as much peace of mind as possible regarding your family’s comfort during the duels and also that you can see them clearly and they have no obstructions or difficulties in seeing you.’

  Max nodded. Abdullah now spoke.

  ‘We are approaching the last, my friends,’ he said, his normally melodic rolling tone now serious. ‘Our planning and preparations are at the critical stage. Do not hold back on your requests. If you can imagine it, my engineers will make it so. Let hope drive your creativity.’

  Joe looked on as both Max and Kris nodded, gravity clearly etched on their features. Abdullah was right. The planning was coming to a close. Fate would imminently arrive. The only question left unanswered is, would doom come hand in hand.

  3am, 22nd November (10 days later). Maternal Vision

  Blackness filled his vision. Complete. Total and utter. Not a hint nor a shade of any form of light fought against the darkness. It was all consuming and in it Max found a certain comfort, but then he became aware of something else. Something not at all comforting. Pain.

  Suddenly light blasted into his senses, instantly and entirely replacing the darkness, causing his mind to spin. At first the light was a haze with no definition within it. Then slowly, images formed. Edges appeared and even colour. Depth and clarity followed and finally, Max beheld a vision and it was strange, but above all, it was awful.

  In front of him stood a massive, wall-sized pane of glass, looking out to a dark void scape that held within it, splinters of light. Space. That was all it could be. Stars and space, but it was not this odd view that was awful. It was the reflection he could see in the glass and it was not himself. It was his mother and she was in pain.

  Max had never seen his mother in alien form, but he instinctively recognised her and to see her now like this and for the first time was despairing. He did not know her true anatomy, but it was obvious that she had been injured, horribly. Max also suspected the injuries were not accidental, but had been inflicted, cruelly.

  Her arms were scarred and raw. Her legs were cut and scalded and her face disfigured. His mother had been tortured and while Max could still see the strength of her defiance in her eyes, he could also feel her will faltering. Her ordeal had been long and brutal, but still she resisted.

  Max searched his mother’s mind, how he did this he did not know, but he did and instantly found the source of her strength. Her son. Max himself. She knew Max still lived and that while he lived, her hope held.

  Suddenly, it dawned on Max that this was a vision and he was in fact looking through his mother’s eyes like they were his own. He wondered what other things he could do in this form? He tried to speak to his mother and he heard his own spoken words as he willed them into reality.

  ‘Mother?’ Max said urgently. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘My son,’ sounded a voice that despite the foreign language, Max could somehow understand. Obvious also was the relief. ‘At last you have found me.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I am in Macktidas’ jail on the Nar’gellan command ship.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘Far, beyond your physical reach, but do not worry yourself with my situation. I am alive and I will keep myself alive as long as you live. Macktidas cannot break me, no matter how heinous his methods.’

  ‘Why is he torturing you?’

  ‘Originally it was to find you, but since his discovery of you, it has turned into mindless entertainment. I think now he wants me to witness your death and then he will finally kill me and claim the throne without dispute.’’

  ‘Tell me what I can do? How do I free you?’

  ‘You cannot free me. Not even I know where in the universe I am, but I can assure you, we are nowhere close to Earth. I am beyond you.’

  ‘There has to be something I can do? There has to be? Tell me?’

  ‘There is one thing you can do.’

  ‘What?”

  ‘You can kill Macktidas.’

  ‘If I can’t reach him, how do I do that?’

  ‘He will come to you. I know he has challenged you to a series of duels. It is the common custom of our people to hold tournaments, whereby our ruler must reconfirm their eligibility to command by defeating three opponents in combat, the final one being a genuine challenger for the throne. In this case, because Macktidas knows you are the rightful ruler, he has at least demonstrated some honour and relegated himself to challenger status, but this means you have the disadvantage. You must compete in all three duels, but finally, at the last, you will gain your opportunity. Macktidas is the challenger and so, he personally will enter the arena for the third
duel and that will be your opportunity to kill him and rightfully claim your throne. Until he kills you, he knows his claim to the throne is in dispute.’

  ‘But you are the rightful ruler of the Nar’gellan race. Not me.’

  ‘When Macktidas usurped the throne and killed your father and your older siblings, I abdicated by fleeing. I no longer held the strength of arms or loyalty in the population to remain as leader, but you, my son, do have the abilities needed to rule. I raised you deliberately to do so for I knew that eventually Macktidas would find you and now he has. Your destiny has arrived and I know you are ready to claim it.’

  ‘I also know who I am, mother. I’m a half breed and even though I’ll fight to the death and maybe even win the first and second duel, I know my chances against Macktidas are small. He is an elite. A select strain of the Nar’gellan species. For me to defeat him after having fought two duels, I will need extraordinary luck and even then, that may not be enough.’

  ‘My son, open your mind and open your heart. Even from my jail cell I can feel the strength growing inside you. I can feel your Nar’gellan and human halves melding together, making you whole. I can feel your purpose inside your mind and how both your human and Nar’gellan passions drive you. Do not be dismayed by your half breed genetics. It is in fact your humanity that gives you the edge over Macktidas. Your human emotions make you superior to his blind, Nar’gellan blood lust. You have the most powerful weapon of all inside your heart. Love. Nar’gellans do not feel love. Not even I. We raise children and grow affinities for our fellow Nar’gellans in ways other than through love, such as respect and loyalty. We do not feel love. We are just not capable of it. Humans naturally feel love and when you face Macktidas, it will be your love that ultimately defeats him.’

  ‘I don’t understand. How can you feel what’s in my heart and in my mind? Not even I can decipher my feelings that clearly.’

  ‘Nar’gellan mothers retain a mental link to their children, all through their lives. I have watched you ever since the day I left, but due to the complexity of your human genetics, you have not naturally activated your link and so I could not communicate with you. I could only watch, but it seems at last, you have broken through and I am thankful because I have another message for you now. In addition to your humanity providing you the advantage in combat, be also aware that Macktidas has a physical weakness. Nar’gellans are vulnerable to what humans call electricity. Our blood stream is particularly sensitive to its charging effects, to the point that we literally boil from the inside out, so make sure you use electricity where possible in your arsenal, but beware, you yourself may also be partially or highly susceptible to the same damaging effects. I do not know if your human cell structure aids you in any way, so take care.’

  ‘Thank you. Now tell me, what else I can do for you while we’re linked?’

  ‘There is nothing. Just fulfil your destiny and be the son I raised you to be. Only then will I be free, regardless of my life or death.’

  Suddenly, a scraping noise sounded and through his mother’s eyes in the reflection of the glass, Max watched a portal slide open behind her. She did not turn. She did not flinch, but Max felt her dismay as a figure filled the frame. The shape was huge. Enormous and without ever having seen his full form, Max knew who it was. Macktidas.

  The beast looked just like any other of the Nar’gellan soldiers Max had seen and beaten, except this monster was half the size again. Macktidas towered over his mother’s broken form and the glare from his eyes portrayed the malice his mother had spoken of.

  ‘Go now,’ his mother said silently to Max. ‘There is nothing for you to see here. Be strong and be my son.’

  ‘Mother!’ Max called out. ‘Mother wait! Tell him I’m going to kill him! Tell him he’s going to die!’

  ‘Goodbye, Max.’

  And the light snuffed out and the complete and total blackness returned, but this time, Max fought against it. He knew what lay on the other side of the dark. His mother. He had finally found her and she needed him and he would not go quietly away. Surrounded by pitch, Max struck out. He flailed. He wailed. He cursed and shouted and then he woke up in bed, fighting an invisible foe.

  Noon, 1st December (8 days later). Christmas Hope

  ‘What time is he on?’ Kris asked as she hung another candy cane on the Christmas tree that had been put up in the formal living room.

  ‘Midday,’ Elsa replied as she helped Jason hang a glitter coated pine cone on a lower branch. ‘He’s got the whole show to himself again. I think Sally’s going to really grill him today given she won’t get a third bite at him.’

  ‘How was he feeling this morning?’ I know he hated the last time he went up against her, but he was awesome anyway. He made Sally look like an extra on her own show.’

  Elsa reached into a box and pulled out two more ruby red baubles and gave one each to Jason and Millie who scurried off to hang them.

  ‘Yeah, he did,’ Elsa replied. ‘I’ve got to admit though, I don’t mind watching the odd bit of Sally Sainsbury. Sure, she’s fake and the whole show is sickening, but hey, if you’re looking for a release from reality, Sally’s the goods. You can’t get much more unreal or over the top than her.’

  ‘Can’t argue with that,’ Kris said as she stood on tiptoes to perch a snowman on a high branch. ‘Wow, this tree is huge! I’ve never had one even half as big as this.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Elsa agreed, pulling a length of silver tinsel out of the box and searching around for somewhere to string it up. ‘Hey, are you heading back to Brisbane to spend Christmas with your family?’

  ‘Just Christmas Eve and most of Christmas day. Be back Christmas night. Can’t afford to slack off this close to the finish line.’

  ‘Well, it’s your call,’ Elsa said as she tossed the tinsel off to the side and instead pulled out a small reindeer and a star for the kids, ‘but I reckon you should stay there through to Boxing Day. You’ve got Max this far. I think he can handle himself for a couple of days on his own. I know I don’t need to remind you this might be the last Christmas before the end of the world.’

  Kris didn’t answer. Instead she paused and looked out the wide space of the opening onto the balcony. Outside, the rising heat of the midmorning summer sun formed a haze over the distant palm trees bordering the beach. The bleached blue sky hung flawlessly behind. Then the lazy silhouette of a Black Hawk droned into view offshore of the island, its ceaseless presence no longer a distraction.

  ‘Hey,’ Elsa said gently as she came up behind Kris and laid a hand on her shoulder. Kris stirred and half smiled. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bully. You do what you want and I’ll shut up.’

  ‘No. It’s alright,’ Kris said, turning and fully opening up her smile. ‘You’re allowed to lecture me. Friends get a free shot. If it was anyone else, they’d be getting a death stare.’

  ‘I’d love to have you here on Christmas Day,’ Elsa added, ‘and I know Max and the kids would too and as for Abdullah? Well, I think we all know how he’d feel, even though Christmas is not technically on his calendar.’

  Kris nodded and quickly turned away to walk back to the coffee table in the centre of the room to get her glass of water.

  ‘It’s none of my business,’ Elsa added, ‘but seeing as you gave me one free shot, I’ll take a second too. You and Abdullah need to sort out your feelings and get on with being together. This whole end of the world thing might cause some trouble with that too.’

  ‘What am I going to do?’ Kris said, raising a hand and then letting it drop to slap against her thigh. ‘I don’t even know how to, you know, ask him out.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s Muslim and I’m not. That’s not going to work.’

  ‘Is that it? Is that what’s stopping you? Religion?’

  ‘Come on, Elsa?’ Kris said, putting her glass back down and walking back to rummage in the decorations box for another trinket. ‘Religion’s pretty important and let’
s face it. Abdullah’s not exactly a casual worshipper and on top of that, he’s a king. There’s no way he could spend any time with me. He needs to have a princess for a girlfriend and a Muslim princess to boot. I’ve got nothing that’s going to work with him.’

  Elsa smiled and looked upon her friend with soft eyes and a gentle smile. Kris noted the silence and looked back.

  ‘What?’ Kris said, her head askance.

  ‘I think it’s sweet.’

  ‘What’s sweet?’

  ‘That you care so much about Abdullah that you think you’re not good enough for him and don’t want to hurt him by putting him into a difficult situation.’

  Kris paused and held her gaze on Elsa for a moment to then let it drift away into space. Elsa let her words sink in for a few seconds more and then walked over to take Kris’ hand and lead her away from the tree to sit down on a couch.

  ‘Kris, you both care for each other,’ Elsa began, ‘not just as close friends, but as probably something more and given we’re all staring down the barrel of only one more month of life as we know it, take a chance. Don’t let something like religion get in the way of at least telling him how you feel. Life literally might be too short to waste this opportunity and you know what I think? I think that despite his devout belief in Islam, Abdullah is a much bigger believer in human spirit and if he cares for you in the same way you care for him, he won’t let his religion get in the way.’

  Kris listened silently and nodded at the end. Elsa let the pause linger, waiting for Kris to break it first.

  ‘Okay,’ Kris finally said softly, looking down into her lap. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Don’t think about it!’ Elsa protested, reaching across to squeeze Kris’ hand. ‘Do it! Besides, the man’s a king! He’s rich and he’s pretty damn good looking too. If I didn’t have Max hanging around, I’d be all over Abdullah. The man’s a catch and so are you by the way, so get on with it!’