by J. N. Chaney
“Thank you,” Elon said, fixing me with those bright blue eyes of his. “I mean that, Dean. I don’t know where this colony would be without you.”
“Just doing my part,” I said with an offhand shrug as I headed toward our tent city. “I’ll talk to a few others today to see if I can round up some volunteers to go with me.”
“Maybe I can go with you.” Elon brightened a bit. “If Ricky stays here to watch over Arun and Stacy oversees the—”
He shut up as I turned to give him a hard stare.
We both knew he couldn’t come with me. He had too much of a responsibility to these people.
As if he could read my thoughts, he slowly nodded with a rueful smile. “Be safe.”
I smiled back and turned, making my way through the city of tents, passing people as they washed their clothes, prepared meals, or whatever work they were given to do that day. Everyone, unless they were too sick, too young, or too old, had a job to do to benefit all.
While Elon oversaw the entire colony, Stacy had taken over security, and Boss Creed managed to bring order to the everyday chaos that was our lives. He set up a system dividing people into groups and having each group work on a different project. These projects ranged from cooking, to washing clothes, to scavenging parties going into the Orion, and more.
Boss Creed had a knack for order, and he was a natural born leader. To be honest, I didn’t want to take either him or Stacy with me on the mission to the Rung. If anything did happen to us, they were too important to the colony to be lost.
These thoughts ran through my mind as I rounded a corner leading to the Civil Authority tent. I heard grunts and the familiar sound of fists hitting a punching bag.
That noise made sense to me in a world out of order and I didn’t bother to suppress the grin. I walked to the back of the tent to see John Bower training on a heavy bag he’d fashioned from a thick piece of canvas and sand.
John wasn’t just a suit, he had previously been a gladiator back on Earth. He was a brother and a hard man who knew what it was like to be locked in a ring and only come out when your opponent was unconscious, or you had inflicted so much pain on him that he gave up in defeat.
Next to John, sitting on a bench, was Lou. I was surprised to see the older man lifting weights and doing bicep curls. He looked over at me and smiled as if he had expected me to show up the entire time. Lou was a deeply religious man who often seemed to have a direct pipeline to his supposed man upstairs.
“Dean,” Lou said with a toothy smile. “Come on over. We’re working out. Or at least John is. I’m just pretending.”
John stopped hammering at the bag to give me a measured look and wipe the sweat out of his eyes. “Heard you went a round with a Rung spy today and got that shoulder of yours popped out of socket. Looks like you took a good shot to your eye as well.”
I touched the spot over my eye that had been opened. It had bled fiercely, but head wounds always looked worse than they were. After I wiped the blood away, there was only a small gash to show for the blow I had taken.
“Don’t you worry about me,” I said. “I’ve still got more than enough to put you down in the first round.”
John held my gaze steadily as if he were about to take offense, then he broke into a smile.
“You’re lucky I like you, Steel Hands,” John said, using my gladiator name from back on Earth. “Or I’d challenge you to a friendly fight right now.”
“Might have to put that on hold,” I said. “The Rung have given us an offer to join forces against Legion. They say they know how to kill him. You in?”
“Sign me up,” he said, looking around at the meager weights he had and the improvised bench. “I’m getting kind of bored here anyway. No offense, Lou.”
“None taken,” Lou said, lifting another weight to do a bicep curl. His veins popped out of his neck at the effort despite the weight only being ten pounds. “I just have to finish this set and get a nice pump going, then I’ll grab my things so we can go.”
“We?” I asked.
“Oh, you didn’t think you were going to leave me behind now, did you?” Lou winced in pain as he raised the weight again. He was definitely wearing down, close to ending his “workout.” “You remember how I did against Legion when we went out to the coast? I may not have been a gladiator on Earth, but I’m still spry. I’ll be of use. Besides, I know where Legion’s heart is, remember?”
“The lightning-bolt-shaped rock in the jungle,” I said, recalling when Lou had taken me to the top of the Orion to get a view of the oddly-shaped landmark.
“Anybody else coming?” Lou asked. “I mean, besides Stacy?”
“Why would you think she’s coming?” I asked, stiffening. Had we been so transparent?
“Please, you think that woman is going to stay behind when there are things needing to be done?” Lou looked at me like I was stupid.
“Fair enough,” I said. “We don’t need anyone else outside of us. Tong will be coming along with us to translate, as will, of course, the Rung.”
“One hundred and ninety, one hundred and ninety-one,” Lou said as he counted out his reps. “One hundred and ninety-two…”
John and I exchanged a grin. More like twenty-one, twenty-two…
I looked over at the crudely-fashioned punching bag, missing the feeling of my fists hitting something. Being a gladiator had always been more than just a sport to me or a means to make a living. It was my vocation, a way for me to be the person I knew I was created to be. Everything else fell away when I was fighting or training. The world made sense then, and I missed that.
“You know, I mean, unless you want to fall back on the excuse that your shoulder is still messed up, we can always go a round or two,” John said, catching my gaze and playing on the uncertainty and desire he probably saw. He knew he could tip me over the line I was mentally walking and get me to go a few rounds with him. He knew what being a gladiator had meant to me. “We’ll wear the heavier gloves, so I don’t mess you up too bad.”
There were mountains of reasons why I shouldn’t. We were going to depart that night to meet with the Rung and preparations had to be made. Still, it would only take a few minutes.
You can put him down in a minute or two, I told myself. It might do you some good to limber up before you embark on a mission that could be your last.
“I mean, if you don’t think you’ve still got it, then that’s completely understandable.” John shrugged offhandedly as if he was going to forget the whole thing but still somehow come out the winner. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to fight me either. You had your heyday and you’ve moved on. I—”
“Get me some gloves,” I said suddenly, unshouldering my rifle and taking off my shirt.
John gave me a victorious grin, having goaded me into doing what he wanted. That would be his last victory for now, I thought. I was going to give him something to smile about. He rummaged around an open crate for an extra pair.
“Boys, boys. I mean, is this really the best use of our time before we depart on a mission? If someone gets hurt, I don’t want to have to be the one to explain to Stacy what happened,” Lou said, exasperated. “To be honest, she kind of scares me.”
“It won’t take long,” John assured him, coming back with a pair of black gloves.
“John will be out in two minutes,” I said.
“Well, if I can’t talk you out of it, maybe we have an opportunity here to bring some people enjoyment. That’s been a rare commodity these days,” Lou said, dropping his weight and running off. “Give me a few minutes.”
I looked over to John with a shrug.
“He’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but I like him,” John said as he moved around the workout area. He started making room, positioning the equipment to form a rough circle.
I stepped in, dragging the workout bench to the side so we could have more room to maneuver.
“Full contact?” John asked. “Knockout or submission?”
“As long as you think you can endure that and still be ready to go out tonight,” I said. “I just don’t want you making excuses later that you’re too hurt to go on the mission.”
John stopped, looking down at me with mock condescension. He was a few inches taller and a good thirty pounds heavier than I was. He grinned and shook his head with a laugh. He thought this fight would be a lock on his part.
We were nearly finished setting up our fighting pit when the first onlookers appeared. It was Meenaz and Doctor Allbright, the latter with a look of concern on her face, along with dozens of others.
“You two know what you’re doing?” she asked. “I mean, we have enough issues without you two going at it and someone breaking a bone.”
“It’s all in good fun,” I said, grinning cheekily. “I’m not going to hurt him... too bad.”
“You two be sure that you don’t,” Doctor Allbright said with a scowl. “You think these medical supplies get delivered to us on a daily basis? We have a very limited amount.” While I understood her concern, I still wanted to go ahead with the fight, if only to provide a little entertainment for the colonists who led such austere lives.
More and more people found their way through the tent alleyways to gather around us. Some of the tension about the upcoming mission left me and I felt a familiar thrill work its way through my veins.
“Is Lou doing this?” I asked as people squeezed in, cheering and smiling as they tried to get a view of what was about to happen.
“Oh yeah,” Meenaz said with a smirk. “He’s going tent by tent, telling everyone there’s about to be the fight of the century.”
“He would have made one heck of a promoter on Earth,” John said with a huff. “Could have used him then.” We both chuckled at this assessment of Lou’s promoting abilities.
“What’s going on here?” Stacy’s voice cut through the mob. “Dean, what are you doing?”
Uh-oh. I winced when I heard her voice. Not because she was going to tell us to stop, but because she was probably right about it.
Stacy appeared next to Meenaz and Doctor Allbright a moment later, her right eyebrow raised with a disapproving look.
“Dean, is this what it looks like?” Stacy asked, hands on her hips.
“Well, if it looks like I’m about to put your Civil Authority Officer over there in a world of hurt, then yes,” I said while John snorted with derision at the comment.
More and more people pressed in, excited to see two gladiators go at it, a bit of nostalgia for them. It was the closest thing we had had to entertainment since we crash-landed.
“Dean, I’m going to have to stop this,” Stacy said, shaking her head. “Officer Bowers, stand down. There’s not going to be a fight today.”
At her words, the crowd started booing.
Jezra appeared a moment later. To my surprise, the kooky old bat started a chant. That crazy Remboshi was always surprising me. She lifted a three-fingered fist in the air and led a chant of “Let the humans fight. Let the humans fight.”
The survivors laughed raucously at the chant but soon joined in.
I shrugged, looking over at Stacy questioningly with my eyebrow and the side of my mouth raised.
“The people want what the people want,” I said over the chanting of the crowd. “Come on. One fight. We won’t do any serious damage.”
Stacy rolled her eyes then looked at the eager faces and nodded in assent. “Okay,” she said reluctantly.
A cheer went up from the crowd.
“But,” Stacy said, lifting her hands, “if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
Everyone, including me, looked at her in confusion.
“Follow me,” Stacy said. “I have an idea.”
6
Stacy didn’t just have an idea, she had a vision. The fight was moved over to the courtyard just inside the front gate. Word spread like wildfire until what seemed like every single colonist was gathered around us. From the catwalk on the wall to the ground around a rough pit that had been made for us, people packed in to see the spectacle.
Everyone pitched in, eager to see a fight between two real gladiators. A few even remembered me, not by face but by name. “Steel Hands” had been a catchy title my coach gave to me as we came up in the industry. It was easy to remember and stuck with people.
A pit was set up, lined with rocks as a border. I was provided with not only gloves but shorts to wear, as was John. Everywhere I looked, I saw excited faces filled with anticipation of the bout that was going to occur.
Maybe you should have done this before, I thought to myself. With all that these people have been through, isn’t it worth it to provide a little entertainment? If you can make them forget the dire situation they’re in even for a few minutes, you should. You can give them that if nothing else.
The twin suns still shone overhead. It was hot, but I had been getting used to it, my body acclimating to the heat.
To my surprise, the head of the scientific department aboard the Orion, Doctor Wong, stepped into the ring with a whistle in one hand and a timer in the other.
“Big fan of the fights,” he said, winking at me. “I’ve always wanted to be in the pit.”
Before I could respond to that shocker of a comment, he announced in a loud voice so all could hear,” Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us in this exhibition fight. In the far corner, we have Civil Authority Officer John ‘Bones’ Bowers, protector of walls, defender against the legion, and hero of men!”
The crowd laughed at the introduction and then cheered for John.
“In the close corner,” Doctor Wong continued, “we have Dean ‘Steel Hands’ Slade, gladiator champion, chosen by the Remboshi and keeper of wolves!”
More cheers. I could have sworn even Mutt let out a howl.
“Rounds will go five minutes until we have a winner by knockout or submission,” Doctor Wong said, all business in the middle of the pit. “Gladiators, if you want to touch gloves, do so now and start swinging!”
I looked over at Stacy, who gave me a wink, apparently caught up in the moment along with everyone else. I couldn’t detect any worry or anxiety in her expression and that pleased me. If this fight did that, even just for a little bit, it would be well worth it.
I walked to the center of the pit, offering my gloves forward. John tapped them with his own.
His face was serious and focused. He was determined. There was no doubt in my mind he was taking this fight seriously, as was I. We wanted to provide the best fight possible for the crowd’s sake, but also because we had each been professionals and took pride in our sport.
I stepped back, calming myself. I needed to be focused and ready. This wasn’t any kind of pit I had fought in in a traditional sense, but it still felt like home.
I lifted my gloved hands in front of me as Doctor Wong blew his whistle, signaling us to begin.
I jogged forward lightly on my toes. I moved this way and that, studying my opponent. John was a trained gladiator and larger than I was. This wasn’t going to be easy.
We traded a series of blows, measuring each other’s reach and power. Every time we did, the fans erupted in shouts and cheers. It was so loud Legion had to hear us outside of our walls.
I hoped he could. I hoped he heard every shout of excitement, every laugh and cry of joy. If he thought he had crushed our spirits, this would tell him a different story.
These thoughts were here one second and gone the next as John landed a left to my torso, then kicked out with a shot to the left side of my head.
I moved my hand up in time to block the blow and moved away smoothly. The sport and all my technique came back to me, like an old friend.
We went on like that for a few more exchanges until I felt confident I knew how far he could reach and how I was going to get inside his guard.
Before I could make my assault, John came at me again. He disguised his take down with a series of punches then ultimately wrapp
ed me around the waist and drove me to the ground.
Instead of trying to fight to keep my feet, I let him slam me to the floor, focusing on gaining the position I wanted once we were down. John hammered me into the ground so hard, my teeth rattled.
I secured his right arm with both of my own, twisting my body hard to get my leg across his chest and set up the arm bar.
The colonists cheered seeing me taken to the ground but went wild after I secured John’s arm. There were screams of my name and John’s as they took sides.
The gloves we wore were padded on the knuckles but were left open for our fingers to poke through. John fought like a wild man to get back to his feet while hammering at me with his left fist.
I took a hard blow across my temple and another to my left eye, which started to swell. My cut from earlier that day had broken open as well and a fresh wave of blood fell down my face, hampering my vision further as it fell into my eyes. John could hit me all he wanted, with all he had. I wasn’t going to give up—not easily, not at all.
I could hear Mutt barking loudly and wildly somewhere in the crowd, as if he too was cheering me on.
John staggered to his feet with me still holding onto his right arm. Both of my own arms secured his with my legs across his chest. This way, I could crank back on his arm, forcing him to give in.
My plan was solid, except for the fact that John was stronger than I’d given him credit for. The large gladiator heaved me off the floor, while I was still holding onto his arm, then he slammed me down headfirst into the hard dirt ground.
Stars exploded in my head as a wave of dizziness overtook me. I let go not by choice but by pure chance. My hands slipped off him, but not before I heard a pop. John roared in pain.
I knew I had dislocated his elbow, but that didn’t mean the fight was over. I ignored the pain and stars exploding across my vision while gaining my feet once more, wobbling slightly as I stood up.
John’s right arm hung uselessly by his side. He came at me again with his left, connecting with my body so hard the air was ripped from my lungs. I took the pain and laid into him, intent to win.
