by Ann Bakshis
From the display, I choose the outfit and hair I’ll be wearing on the selection floor. The choices are all atrocious, skimpy, and colorful. I settle on a light blue sweater, yellow leggings, and a white wig with blue sparkles. The racks above my head move as a crane selects my garments and drops them down a chute that empties next to the terminal. I take my items, find an empty changing closet, step inside, and try to put the tight clothes on.
“Max, you in here?” Addie calls from the other side of the curtain.
“Yes. I’ll be out in a moment.” I discard my other clothes into a bin in the back wall and step out. “What’s the point of these stupid outfits?” I ask as Addie is adjusting my leggings.
“It’s a way to get the younger kids amped up about joining. They look at the clothes and colors and are made to believe it’s always this way. It’s not until anyone is actually in Thrace Tower do they realize the truth, but by then it’s too late. You’re here until you either point high enough to go to Icarian, or you die.”
She wraps her arm through mine and we follow everyone else towards the shafts. Lights flood the dark space, illuminating the many seats that circle a lone dark wall. Addie points to a shaft with my name and tells me to sit down. She disappears around the corner, probably going to her seat. The chair is the same one I sat in the other day. Once I’m seated, straps cover my chest down to my thighs, my chair swings around so I’m facing the wall, and I begin to ascend. I look through my glass enclosure and notice everyone else is moving skyward as well.
We come up through the floor to a thunderous applause and rise above the other rows. Our seats are locked into place and the straps removed. Displays descend from the ceiling in the center just as the host takes his position. He waves to an invisible crowd, as shouts and applause grow louder from the speakers next to my head.
“Thank you,” the man says, white teeth almost blinding from the spotlight that cascades down his face. “Children, this is so exciting. Today we will have our recruits battle for the first time. Those who survive will move on to regular game play with the rest of our contenders.” This time those around me clap and shout with joy. I don’t join in their reverie. “The Keepers have already selected who will be battling against each other, so watch the monitors in front of you for the line-up.”
My stomach tightens and I have an overwhelming urge to fling myself down the shaft underneath my seat. Names spin by on the display in front of me. The first name that stops is Garret’s, followed by a woman named Uli from the Rapid unit. Their seats descend, then rise empty a few minutes later. The next sequence of names appears: Brink and Tog, a player from the Dead Mark unit. They also disappear below the risers.
Four down, six to go. At least I won’t be going up against Brink.
Two more names erupt on the screen. My name flashes next, along with my opponent’s, a man named Pan from the Rapid unit. My seat lowers, stopping in the lift corridor, where Matron Kaniz is waiting for me. She gestures for me to follow her around to the other side of the shafts, through a heavy metal door, and down a small hallway till it ends. The wall in front of us slides open, revealing a large common room full of couches, monitors, a couple of iceboxes, several doors lining the far back wall, and the other contestants.
“See those cubicles,” Matron Kaniz says, pointing to an area off to my right. “Locate the one labeled Looper and your uniform will be waiting for you. Wait in here until your battle time is announced.” She closes the door after I’ve stepped across the threshold.
Everyone in the room looks confused. I go to the stall labeled “Looper”, close the curtain, and find my uniform neatly folded on a bench. I quickly change, wanting to be rid of the itchy sweater and horrid wig. The capris and tank top are more comfortable. The leather boots stop just above my knees, so my legs are completely covered. The jacket is a little stiff, so perhaps Matron Kaniz was correct in that it will make looping difficult. I find a hair tie in the pocket of my coat, so I put my hair into a ponytail. When I exit the room, I join the rest in the common room.
I’m the only woman that isn’t showing her midriff. The men have the same type of uniform as the women, except they have long pants, work-style boots, and long, short, or sleeveless shirts. I take a seat next to Brink. He doesn’t say anything when I sit down; it’s almost as if he’s shut himself off from the world. I nudge him, but he doesn’t respond.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a young olive-skinned woman says, the entrance from the hallway closing behind her. “I’m Matron Violet from the Rapid unit. In just a few minutes you will be called to begin your battle sequences. Behind you are four doors, each one leading to a section of the battle floor. Your name will appear above the door you’re to go through. At the end of the hall your weapon will be waiting. Secure it to your uniform before you enter. Your battle will begin the moment you step onto the floor. As Hammond stated earlier, only one person from each sequence will be allowed to continue. Normally you’re given two hours to complete your battle or declare defeat. That will not happen in this case. The Keepers are determined to see if any of you are competent enough to compete in the upcoming event, so this is a do-or-die challenge. Good luck.”
She leaves through another door just as the monitors turn on and the signs above two of the doors flicker to life, displaying the names Garrett, and Uli. They approach the doors cautiously, but pass over the thresholds quickly when the doors open. We can see them making their way down the hallways on the monitors. Brink grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. I wasn’t sure if he had realized I was there.
“This is not what I expected The Litarian Battles to be like,” he says, eyes focused on the screens before us. “Why does anyone volunteer for this? Life in Tarsus cannot be any worse than the Outer Limits, so why put yourself through this cruelty? They never showed anyone actually dying during the battles, so those of us who watched always thought they simply sent those who lost either home, or someplace else. I don’t want to die, Max.”
“At least you have some inkling as to what you’re going into.” I lean against him, not sure which of us needs the support more.
Garrett and Uli hit the battle floor. At first they try to avoid each other, crossing the floor at great distances apart. Uli stops, bends down, and fiddles with something, but we can’t see what because the rubble she’s behind blocks our view. Garrett climbs atop a metal structure, bow and arrow at the ready. He jumps from one obstacle to another, keeping his eyes on Uli. She finally stands and begins to backtrack towards the door she entered through. Garrett aims his arrow at Uli, firing, but her shield is designed to deflect it. The arrow disintegrates when it makes contact. She presses a button on her wristband, detonating explosives she had hidden a few feet from where Garrett currently stands.
He’s thrown backwards, hitting a concrete column, and falls to the ground. He has a gash in his lower leg, and another across his cheek. He’s stunned and winded. Uli removes a small device from a pack on her back, twists the top, and throws it in Garrett’s direction. He rolls away just before it lands and explodes. I notice that the upper left corner of the screen isn’t showing the points being awarded to Uli and taken from Garrett. I wonder if they aren’t doing that because all points will go to the surviving competitor.
Uli removes another device, arms it, and hurls it towards Garrett. He’s faster this time and shoots an arrow at the explosive while it’s in the air, destroying it. He reloads his bow and fires several shots rapidly, but Uli opens her shield, protecting herself. Garrett pauses, looks skyward, and fires his arrow. It strikes a shattered window pane from a demolished building raining glass onto Uli. She’s hit by multiple shards. Garrett climbs, trying to get a better visual on her as she crawls on the ground because of her wounds. He aims his arrow at the pack on her back and fires.
The explosion is bright, shaking the whole building. When the dust clears, there is nothing left of Uli except blood-spattered concrete. The rubble and structures vanish, leaving Garrett alone in
the large room. He’s declared the winner and is directed to a door on the opposite side of the room.
“What the hell was that?” I almost shout, surprised that the realistic structures used to create the battle environment are fake.
“Tarsus is far more advanced in their technology than the Outer Limits will ever be,” someone responds. “This is simply playtime for them.”
This makes me feel even less confident in my ability to survive this round. If they are this advanced, what else could be out there that isn’t real? Could everything be an illusion?
“Make me a promise,” Brink says, grabbing my arm and turning me towards him. “Win. You have to make it to the event. Do whatever it takes to get there.” He kisses me hard on the lips as his name flashes above the door behind us. “Promise me.”
Shocked by his actions, but worried for his safety, I reassure him. “I promise.”
He gets up and disappears quickly behind the door. I hide myself in the Looper clothing stall, avoiding Brink’s battle. My head begins to pound and my stomach tightens. He’s annoyed me to no end, been morally disgusting at times, but I can’t picture him not being around. I curl up in a ball in the corner and cry.
Seven
“Max, where are you?” my name echoes through the small chamber. “It’s almost time.”
I come out of my hiding spot and find Pan standing a few feet away. I hesitate about asking how Brink did. If he died, it would weigh heavily on my mind. It’s a burden I can’t have at the moment. I walk past Pan, take a seat, and watch the rest of the battle between the pair that went before us. The competitors are evenly matched, causing very little damage to each other.
“They’re both Nius,” Pan says, sitting down next to me. “This could go on for some time.”
I ignore him and try to scoot further down the couch.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” he says, following me. “Just the other day I was working in the smelting plant, and now I’m here.”
“I wouldn’t be too excited about it,” I say, still trying to distance myself. “One of us is going to die shortly.”
Pan stops, leans forward, and begins ringing his hands together. “Yes, and it’s an unfortunate necessity.”
“None of this is necessary,” I grumble.
“For some of us, Max, it is.”
I look over at him to see sorrow heavy on his face.
Our names are called, the signs above two of the doors flashing brightly. Pan gets up and is through his door before I’ve left my seat. I stand and approach my door cautiously. It slides open when I’m in front of it, and closes quietly behind me. The corridor is narrow, poorly lit, and stuffy. My Kopis is waiting for me at the end. I take the sheath off the wall and strap it around my waist as the door opens, revealing the battle floor. I step forward, my boots crunching small bits of debris. The room is bright as if the sun were shining through the ceiling. Warm air filters in the deeper I go.
I hear noise behind me, so I activate my shield and remove the Kopis from its sheath. Pain radiates down my back. I can feel blood trickling from a wound Pan must have inflicted on me. He’s a Rapid, so he’ll be able to move quickly. I close my shield and disappear, hovering above the battle floor, deciding where to land. I choose a tall structure, planting my feet on the rusty metal. Pan darts below, trying to find me. It would be smart to just wait him out up here, but that would only work if we were being timed for the two hours.
I start to loop again, but am abruptly stopped when my jacket catches on a metal piling jutting out next to me. I’m dangling from the structure, the coat is the only thing preventing me from falling. I must have let out a shout when I was jerked out of the loop because Pan is rapidly ascending the building toward me. The only way I can get out of this is to remove my jacket, but the Kopis is too large to slide through the tight-fitting garment, and I can’t sheathe it since I can’t reach my waist. I wiggle as best I can, trying to free the jacket from the piling, but I wind up dropping my weapon.
“You’re mine now,” Pan says, a few feet below me.
He reaches up, swiping at me with his weapon, a Deer Horn knife. The same one I dreamt about Brink carrying. I kick at him, trying to fend off the blows. The boots protect my feet, and his reach isn’t long enough to get to the rest of me. He moves quickly, climbing higher to get above my position. I unbutton the jacket, slip my arms out, and fall. I loop before hitting the ground, projecting myself behind a pile of rubble on the far side of the room. I land hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
Pan isn’t far behind. He’s leaving a trail of dust as he moves. I loop back to where my weapon is, pick it up, and loop again, this time hovering as long as possible. I’m not sure how long I can hold it, or even if I’m supposed to be able to. Pan has stopped in the center of the battle floor. I project myself next to him, my Kopis held in front of me. He doesn’t see me until it’s too late. The blade plunges into his abdomen, but he’s able to push me off. He’s bleeding, but the uniform is holding him together, keeping him alive.
He swings at me, but I activate my shield in time. I take the blade and fight back, cutting him severely. He drops his knives and I kill him, thrusting the blade into his chest. A moment later, his body vanishes as does the rubble and concrete around me.
What kind of place is this? Where did Pan go? What other tricks do the Keepers have up their sleeves?
A voice booms over my head to exit through the door on the other side of the room. Once the door closes behind me, I lean my head against the wall and begin to shake. My body goes almost into a seizure with the reality of what I’ve just done and I collapse to my knees.
How could I have just killed someone? Do the wristbands contribute to this type of behavior? I don’t think I can continue to do this.
Lights flash over my head, so I hang up my sheath on the hook and proceed down the corridor. At the end is another common room, this time with the victors, but I don’t see Brink. Matron Kaniz congratulates me and gestures me to a changing room where the clothes I had on this morning – not the audacious ones, thankfully – are waiting. I change and return to the common room.
“I told you about the jacket,” Matron Kaniz says to me as I sit down beside her and Garrett.
“I wasn’t expecting it to get caught on anything,” I answer. “But I guess I’ll need a new one.”
“You keep what you have. We just won’t replace the jacket.” She stands and leaves the room.
Unlike the other common rooms, the monitors in here aren’t playing The Litarian Battles, so we won’t know the winner of the next battle until they walk through the door. Garrett gets up and brings me a glass of water from the bar along the far wall. I’m still afraid to ask about Brink. I only want to know if he’s alive, but since he’s not here. I’m assuming he didn’t make it. Yet, his opponent isn’t in the room either.
I swallow the last of the water before asking Garrett. “Where’s Brink?”
“He was hurt pretty bad when he exited the floor, so he’s been taken to the medical office. He’ll be back soon.”
I let out my breath, not realizing I’d been holding it. I go to refill my glass and sit back down.
“Are you and he a couple?” Garrett asks.
I practically spit out my water, but instead it goes down into my lungs, making me cough. “No. Why would you ask?”
“I hear you two were pretty close at the orphanage, and that he kissed you before he went onto the floor.”
“He was my roommate, nothing more.”
“That’s good.”
Out of the corner of my eye I catch Garrett smiling. He is attractive, but as this is a winner take all situation, I’m going to try and avoid getting into any kind of relationship. I lean back, resting my head against the top part of the couch, and close my eyes. This battle will have been my easiest as I’m sure the next one will be against a more experienced player. I’m on the verge of falling asleep, when my arm gets bumped. It’s Garrett and he’s poi
nting to my hands.
“Where’d you get those?” he asks, leaning sideways so he’s fully facing me.
“Aren’t you talkative.”
“What’s wrong with that? Who knows how long we’ll be in this room, and I can’t stand the music videos they play on the displays, so conversation is the only alternative.”
“True.” I take a deep breath and tell him about the raid at the orphanage and how I woke up with my hands butchered.
“Aedox don’t usually return people they take,” he says. “I wonder what their motive was in regards to you.”
“I have a feeling that these scars are the reason I was selected to be sent here.”
“You don’t remember anything of what happened? The only thing you noticed were the scars on your hands?”
I hadn’t thought about looking elsewhere on my body since I was too stunned by what happened to my hands. How do I do that now? I can’t ask Addie or Rem to examine me that would be awkward. Brink would be extremely thrilled with the task, but he would be more distracted in satisfying his own needs, than helping with mine.
“I guess I was too in shock to notice anything else,” I finally respond after too long of a silence.
“You might want to. I’m not sure who you trust in your unit, but make sure if you have someone assist that it’s someone who won’t notify the Matrons.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, getting defensive.
“They really haven’t told you much in your unit, have they? Mine are too willing to share information.”
“What have you found out?”
“The real reason we’re here in Tarsus.”
I almost laugh, but am able to muffle it into a chuckle. “You mean being told that Head Master Edom is trying to infiltrate The Litarian Battles so he can take over the new utopia?”
He looks wounded at my rebuke. “I take it you don’t believe it.”
