Max Arena

by Jamie Doyle

  ‘However,’ Abdullah added, ‘my solace in this perspective has been shaken in the last few months. It seems I have found a reason to live and now, for the very first time since Fathiya left this mortal realm, I have meaning other than my perceived purpose to want to stay alive and that is to share my life with you, Max and the special people surrounding us. It is all of you that have given me a desire to live, so if you succeed in the arena and life continues for us all, I will also be content. Eternity in the afterlife is no longer the only prize. Life itself is now equally as precious to me.’

  Abdullah shifted to return Max’s look as the sun broke free of the chains of the horizon, sending a bloom of gold flooding across the grass field. A gentle breeze also stirred across the lawn, ruffling Abdullah’s robes and the trees surrounding the estate.

  Kris walked carefully up to the two silent men from behind. ‘Max?’ she asked carefully. ‘It’s time to go get sweaty.’

  Abdullah broke his gaze off and gently turned to bow to Kris. ‘As salaam alaykum, Kris. Good morning.’

  ‘Good morning, Your Highness,’ Kris returned, smiling a little awkwardly.

  Max noted Kris’ shyness and the difference in Abdullah’s bow, that it was slightly deeper and more prolonged, making it almost intimate.

  ‘I will leave you both to your training,’ Abdullah said and glided away.

  Max flicked his gaze from Abdullah to Kris and then back to Abdullah.

  ‘What?’ Kris asked, hands held out to the sides.

  ‘Hold on a sec,’ Max said to Kris before bounding off after the Sheikh. ‘Your Highness, excuse me?’

  Sheikh Abdullah halted to let Max jog around in front of him.

  ‘Thanks for coming down to see me this morning and thank you for sharing,’ Max said. ‘The more I get to know you, the more you make me realise I should have gone out looking for friends a long time ago.’

  Abdullah gently nodded again.

  Max continued. ‘But, something just occurred to me. Something that maybe no one else is going to say to you, so I guess it might just have to be me. Remember also that I’m no expert in these sorts of things, but last night you told me Fathiya was the love of your life. Well, maybe she was the love of your past life and that somewhere out there is the love of your future life? You also just said you’d be content to spend the rest of your life with the special people around us, so...’ Max trailed off to cast a glance over the Sheikh’s shoulder towards Kris.

  Abdullah guessed the direction of Max’s gaze and resisted turning. Instead he looked down and resettled his hands inside the sleeves of his robes.

  ‘You are wrong, Max,’ he said simply, looking up at him. Max squinted in return as the Sheikh’s mouth crinkled upwards. ‘You may very well be an expert in these matters after all.’

  Then without another word, Abdullah glided past Max and off towards the mansion. Max did not turn to watch him go, but rather just crossed his arms and grinned. In front of him, the new day had begun and all he could do was think how good it already was.

  ‘Come on, Max!’ Kris called out. ‘Get your fancy shoes over here! It’s crying time!’

  1pm, 17th December (15 days later). Committed

  The bare dirt and stones beneath their feet radiated heat like they were standing on an oven. The midday summer sun baked the stark earth, which coupled with the breeze, stirred up wandering whirly winds that sent dust swirling around them. Elsa felt the perspiration on her forehead beading into droplets, ready to streak her reddened face. Her long sleeve top was already stuck to her back and it felt like her whole body was preparing to dissolve.

  It was hot and it was humid and it was unpleasant, but they had come for a reason. This is where it would all happen. This would be the site of their victory or their doom. This was the arena and it would be their last visit before fate took centre stage.

  Team Max stood scattered around the barren arena space inside the three-quarter constructed stands, watching thousands of workmen crawling all over the growing structures. This was not a modern construction site. It was an ant colony. Human power ruled here with only two large cranes in operation. Everything else was being done by many hands working together. Lifting. Pushing. Cutting and bolting. There was nothing this workforce could not achieve.

  Prime Minister Tollsen ambled over in his cotton trousers, light long sleeve shirt and white Panama hat, looking the virtual colonist. ‘Elsa, I would apologise for the conditions,’ he said, ‘but this is Queensland after all and well, summer is summer.’

  ‘I’m glad we left the kids at home,’ Elsa replied, looking around. ‘How do they work in this heat?’

  ‘We treat them well with short shifts and plenty of food and drink, but yes, their efforts are remarkable. Despite these conditions and only two weeks to go, we’re on track for New Year’s Eve. I’m hopeful we’ll have some grass in the next few days too.’

  Joe turned to Peter who was standing off to the side, surveying the activity.

  ‘What’s on your mind, Peter?’ Joe asked.

  ‘I’m wondering where you’re going to be sitting,’ Peter replied, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as he scanned the structures.

  Joe turned and lifted a hand toward the northern end of the growing stadium. ‘There will be a row of glass boxes midway up that stand, which Elsa, Abdullah and I will be accommodated in. I suspect Kris will want to be closer to the action down at ground level somewhere, but that will be her choice.’

  ‘Got room for me?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Of course, Peter. You’re most welcome.’

  ‘Good,’ Peter replied, removing his sunglasses and looking at the Prime Minister, ‘because the moment Max sets foot in this arena, I’m out of a job and then if he goes down in a bout, the next thing I’m doing is standing in front of you. If this all goes to hell, sir, no one gets to you unless it’s through me.’

  Prime Minister Tollsen beheld one of the few men he had ever built a true friendship with, even if it was as his body guard. Joe then removed his own sunglasses, stepped across and held out his hand. Peter accepted it and Joe laid his spare hand on top.

  ‘If we go down,’ Joe said, ‘we go down side by side. That’s my promise to you.’

  Peter nodded.

  Elsa watched the exchange and felt goose bumps ripple across her skin. They were two weeks out and she had witnessed more and more moments such as these amongst the group and in the staff at the estate. The tension was rising and everyone was making plans or amends. Suddenly, she wished she had Millie and Jason with her to wrap them in a cuddle. Instead, she looked around to find her husband.

  Max, Kris and Abdullah stood in the very heart of the bare arena. Both Max and Kris were sweating profusely, but Abdullah shimmering in his robes and sunglasses looked decidedly cool as he stood and listened to the conversation.

  ‘I think we do regularly spaced weapons stations,’ Kris said, turning as she pointed to various points on the arena boundary, ‘with the same stock of weapons at each and heaps of them. Like ten of each type at each station. Ten javelins. Ten swords. Ten of everything. That way you’ll never run out and you’ll never be far from whatever you want.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Max replied, nodding. ‘Sounds good. As for the boundary itself, I like the idea of putting a continuous ledge around the whole arena. Make the bottom half solid concrete, but then the upper half is clear Perspex set to the back of the concrete beneath it to make a ledge, which I can use for evasion if I need to. Kind of like what they have for ice hockey games, so I can use it like a vaulting platform or running on top of to get away from whatever it is that’s coming at me.’

  ‘Yeah, I like that too,’ Kris added. ‘Gives you a bit of height advantage. Then the weapons stations can be openings or gates or something in the Perspex and they can either leave the weapons on the ledge or throw them out onto the arena surface.’

  Max nodded, also turning to survey the growing stadium. Abdullah continued to watch and listen in sil
ence, carefully studying Max’s face and demeanour as he considered how his bouts would unfold and what advantages he would like.

  ‘The surface needs to be grass,’ Max said. ‘Not thick turf, but thinnish and even. I need to feel the ground beneath my feet and get instant grip. I don’t want to sink in or rip up divots, so when I change direction, it’s instantaneous and has no give. If I put my foot down to start sprinting, I need to be straight into full gear and not fighting against anything. Not even for a split second.’

  ‘What about fake grass?’ Kris asked.

  ‘It’s a good idea, but to be honest, I like real grass and I’m more comfortable on that.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Kris said. ‘What shoes are you going to wear?’

  ‘I was thinking moulded studs, like touch football shoes.’

  ‘Orange of course?’ Kris quipped.

  ‘Bright as anything.’

  Kris smiled. ‘And other kit?’

  ‘Hadn’t really thought about it, but light weight I guess and probably skin tight,’ Max replied and then turned to Abdullah. ‘Could you get someone in your secret engineering stable to whip something up?’

  Abdullah did not speak, but silently nodded. Max held his gaze on Abdullah for a few moments and then flicked his gaze across to Kris who looked back between him and Abdullah. The silence held, the baking heat intensifying the quiet as the sounds of construction and the multitude of workers’ voices murmured in the background.

  Elsa came up behind Max and clasped his hand as she stood next to him. Joe and Peter also came to stand silently with the group. Now everyone stood together, looking around the gathering, connecting with each other. No words sullied the moment. All thoughts alternated between reaching out to others and then turning inwards to self reflect.

  Abdullah broke first, turning and serenely crossing the space in the middle to approach Kris. She watched him come close and then when he reached her, he raised his right forearm and bowed slightly. Kris paused and just looked at him. Not awkwardly. Not in confusion, but acceptingly. She then placed her left hand on Abdullah’s forearm and together they turned for the arena exit and walked away.

  Elsa squeezed Max’s hand. Max turned to look at Joe and found him smiling gently, watching the couple move away. He then looked down and nodded before ambling behind them with Peter in tow.

  Elsa leaned into Max’s ear and gleefully whispered one word. ‘Yes!’

  9pm, 17th December (later that night). Crumbling

  ‘We have to make one last trip to the United Nations,’ Joe said, ‘and we need to leave within the hour.’

  The rest of the group had gathered in the living room and right now had their eyes fixed on Prime Minister Tollsen as he stood pensively by the cold, bare fireplace, his pipe in the corner of his mouth and his hands in his pockets. He did not face them, but rather stared into the empty hearth, almost as though he were talking to himself. Joe continued.

  ‘All of our efforts to hold the global community together are rapidly unravelling,’ Joe said. Abruptly, he turned to face the group. ‘It was to be expected. As doom looms ever higher, so will our fears begin to take over.’

  Elsa spoke next from the couch where she sat with Max by her side. ‘Is there anything we can do? Can we up the ante on Team Max and get even more footage of him out there? Swamp the whole world with him?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘We have done what we can, but this is not the time for despair. Despite the downward spiral beginning to accelerate once again, the majority of our fellow world leaders are still in fact united and doing all they can to maintain as much control as possible. At present, the majority of the unrest is spreading throughout the Third World as provisions of essentials from the First World begin to dissipate. In these last few days, the developed nations have become more and more self-serving and less and less caring of their foreign brothers and sisters. It is a shame, but as I said, it was not unforseen.’

  ‘Wars?’ Kris asked from the other end of the same couch.

  ‘Civil and cross border,’ Joe replied, taking his pipe out of his mouth to inspect the wood grain. ‘Africa is overrun with strife and even if we are successful in the arena, it will take many years to restore the continent to its previous state. Civil war grips India, while Muslim fundamentalists storm across the border from Pakistan. Central America is rife with rebel uprisings and Mexico has imploded as the general population finally strikes back at the corruption in the government and the rampant drug cartels. However, if you are looking for a saving Grace, all of the G20 leaders are aligned, including Australia. There are even plans being made to potentially ally together to fight off any form of Nar’gellan invasion, as futile as it might be.’

  ‘What will you do, Joe,’ Elsa asked, ‘if Max falls in the arena? What will you do right at that moment if it happens?’

  Joe looked up at Elsa and then flicked his gaze to Kris and Peter in turn. ‘The first thing I shall do is make sure all of you are as safe as possible. There will be space on my helicopter for all of you and it will not be lifting off without any of you. Let me be crystal clear on that.’

  ‘Thank you, ‘Joe,’ Elsa said. ‘I never doubted you would live up to your word and on the night, if the worst happens, I don’t doubt you will still live up to it.’

  Joe nodded then said, ‘As for what we do next, I will pass that to Abdullah.’

  The Sheikh nodded his head once and rose from his seat at the far end of the coffee table. Max watched him rise and noted his movements were no longer truly languid. The man had slowed. He was tired. Max was not sure if Abdullah or Joe really slept most nights, knowing they were never far from a telephone, talking to someone somewhere in the world about who knew what, but it undoubtedly had to do with world politics, security or leading their own respective nations.

  Abdullah walked across to stand next to Joe and then turned to face everyone. ‘Thank you, Joe,’ he started. ‘Yes, we do have a contingency plan if God’s design is for Max to fall in the arena. I cannot give you the exact details of that plan yet, but let me just say that we do have a secure facility under construction and nearing completion, which is deeply hidden in case the world is conquered by Macktidas’ army. A select few other dignitaries and world leaders have been invited to enter with us, but only a few. It is not an open invitation, but I imagine many of our peers will have their own such facilities ready to enter if the need arises. Our facility is not far from here and will only take us a matter of hours to reach. There we will either ride out the storm or we will pass from this world into Allah’s hands.’

  ‘When will you be back from New York?’ Kris asked, not looking at Abdullah, but instead keeping her gaze downcast into her lap.

  ‘Three days,’ Abdullah replied, bowing his own head. ‘We will be on the ground for one day only. There is only so much we can do now, so we will both be returning as quickly as we can.’

  Joe nodded next to him and replaced the pipe in his mouth, putting both hands in his pockets.

  Max cast a sideways glance to Kris to find her still downcast. He then nudged an elbow into Elsa’s side and flicked his head towards Kris. Elsa looked, took the cue and moved across to lead Kris out onto the balcony. Meanwhile, Max stood up and stepped across to Joe and Abdullah.

  ‘That pipe’s getting a good work out,’ he said to Joe.

  ‘This pipe is my oldest friend and at times like these, you need your friends around you,’ Joe replied.

  ‘Well, make sure you hurry back from New York then. We need you here too,’ Max added and he looked sideways to Abdullah. ‘Some of us need you more than others.’ Abdullah nodded silently without returning the look. ‘So, what’s your plan with the UN?’ Max asked. ‘How much more can you really do to keep things together?’

  Joe sighed and looked away. ‘Not much I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Apart from increased military intervention, we’re at the limit of peaceful control. Max, you haven’t directly noticed any local deterioration because you are la
rgely hidden away here on the island, but even here in Australia, our streets are filling up with more and more soldiers. Unfortunately, desertions from our military ranks are also increasing. Order is eroding faster than we can bolster it. Plain and simple, the end of the world is coming and it is no longer possible to maintain structure. As I said, this was predicted, but now that we are at this point, it makes it no less dispiriting.’

  ‘I’m surprised we all kept it together for as long as we have.’

  ‘Do not underestimate the calibre of positive impact that Team Max has had,’ Joe replied as he snuck a sideways glance at Abdullah, who had turned to look out onto the balcony where Elsa and Kris stood together. ‘We took a gamble on our little publicity stunt, but it paid off handsomely. It is fair to say, the world took heed of your mantra that “together we win” even if winning means staving off anarchy for as long as possible before we are all annihilated.’

  Max nodded. ‘There is an obvious question in all this that no one has really asked yet because we’re all so focused on getting to the arena and giving it our best shot on the night. Even if we win, will the world ever be the same?’

  Joe looked directly into Max’s eyes. ‘That, my friend,’ Joe started, ‘is what really keeps me awake at night. I have for some time, stopped concerning myself with your perils in the arena as I know you will perform to the best of your ability and the outcome will be what it will be. I cannot control that. However, the question you ask holds far greater peril than the outcome of your exploits in the duels. We all wish for victory, but the old saying is true in this case. Be careful what you wish for because you may actually receive it.’

  ‘You mean victory brings its own risks? If I lose, we all die, but if I win, who knows what state the world will be in because of all the carnage we’ll have self-inflicted leading up the arena? Extinction might be a less painful way to go out than slowly killing ourselves in a world gone medieval?’