“I think they can be beaten if we pull the city
together. I mean we have twice the
manpower the IC do, but we just keep losing.
I think Kai Shang did good things but he was a politician first and not
the general he should have been…if we had stopped the Italian Communists
forming up in Green Sparta years ago instead of ignoring them then the whole planet
wouldn’t have been engulfed in war with these guys.”
“Hmm. Kinda reminds
me of that bastard Adolf and all those Nazis---“
“I wouldn’t compare
them to Nazis. They don’t mass murder people; but they do act like other
communists in history have…subjugate the press and then make the people follow
party lines—or else.”
“Look,” said Clyde,
“I don’t usually vote but I use to be a soldier back when Red Athens was a new city
“Sure.”
“I think the rest
of this block is pro-Dorians so I wouldn’t even waste my time with them.”
Edgar looked around, as if the houses themselves would
explain why they were all pro-Dorian, then nodded and walked away.
In all his walking
Edgar Willow could count how many votes he had likely gained on two hands. He would have to try another tactic to get
voters attention. But would he have
time? Red Athens was on the brink of
being torn apart by an invading army that was hell bent on taking the entire
planet Isis .
All he was sure of
is that he would be very busy if he won the office; the military consul
position came packaged with enough pressure to make a root canal seem
bland. The Italian Communists were
better equipped and better trained than their counterparts in the Red Athens
Defense Force; and they were filled with a patriotic fever that couldn’t be
matched by even the most enthused armies in history.
So he would have to
start acting now; he couldn’t afford to wait until he was officially elected—he
could help now.
The sounds of battle
echoed through the room. For a second
Johnny McGavin thought Day was still sleeping, but when he looked over he could
see her eyes were open. “ “They’ll
hold.”
“How can you be so
sure.”
“Because they’ve
held before.” Just then a loud explosion hit the dome, followed by more weapons
fire that could be heard throughout the crowded city of Red Athens
He got out of bed, threw his clothes on, remembered he
didn’t have a job, laid back down. He
peered into the void at moments like that, wondering what was the point of his
existence. Then he remembered what he
had planned the previous night to do: find another job, something with
potential…anything. He had been a
computer tech for ten years, never found himself without a job, then all
communications to the city had been cut, and his job was no longer there.
Johnny tried to get something else, and even had a series of interviews to be
lead tech on a new military project. This
made sense to him, military jobs not only had potential but in the world of man
they were a consistent business. But he
had been told a man with more experience would be hired.
For months he
walked the streets looking for anything: construction but construction had
stopped on the first day of the siege; being a cop, but the cops were union and
he didn’t have the credentials; writer which he thought he might get since the
writers were all on strike—but it didn’t work out, not enough experience.
He sighed as he
remembered the days of trial and error, where nothing seemed to work out for
him. He could think back to his days in
school. He was loathed by teachers
because he always asked questions after drifting off and missing important
parts of what was being taught. One of
his teachers told him he was the problem child of his generation. He had a two-minute attention span, and an
imagination that was almost too good.
“You’re never going to amount to anything if you can’t focus,” one of
his teachers had told him countless times.
After he quit college, and found a tech job,
he met Day. She was a brash girl about
two years younger than him working in a coffee shop. Her long hair was highlighted and when her
green eyes met his he was entranced.
“You want any
coffee to go with that cream?” She had
said to him after he put four hazelnut creams into his coffee. It was the first thing she had ever said to
him.
Johnny loved Day
dearly, and without her he wouldn’t have likely found his way out of the hole
of depression that he had been in after losing his job. Her job was steady and brought in just enough
money to pay the bills and buy enough food.
But he wondered sometimes if she was cheating on him. She would get out of work and not show up for
hours. He just wasn’t sure what was
going on; he still loved her but when he questioned she would try to change the
subject. “I want to know what your doing
for three hours after work. And don’t
tell me your with the girls…one of them called the other night and I had to
tell her I didn’t know where you were.”
“So you want to
know everything about me?”
“I just want to
know why you’re being so secretive about it.
If you’re cheating I want to know.”
“I’m not cheating.”
“Then what are you
doing?”
“Johnny just forget
it, I can’t tell, and if I wanted to I still wouldn’t tell you. Okay?”
The conversation ended there, with little new information
being produced. It left Johnny
confused. What in the hell is she
doing?
They hadn’t talked
about it again for weeks. He wanted to
ask her again but just couldn’t find the right words. She started coming home faster as if she were
worried what he might think.
And then when he
lost his job he stopped any thoughts of questioning her more. She was providing for him and could have
easily left him high and dry…but didn’t.
He had grown accustomed to the cold apartment. They still hadn’t figured out why it was the
coldest in the whole complex, but Johnny didn’t mind. When a warm hand touched his neck he looked
up.
It was Day.
He stared into her
eyes for to long, was drawn in, he always hated looking anywhere else after
just a glance at her green eyes.
“I’m going. I’m
only working a four hour shift so expect me back.”
“I might be gone.”
“Where?”
“I was going to
hunt for another job. I heard the Dorian
house pays top dollar for guards. I
always thought I could do something like that as a kid, but I don’t have any
experience, same old story.”
“You’ll find
something, it just takes time, and I’m not going to quit on you yet,” Day said
as she walked out the door. The thoughts
of what she was up to hadn’t completely gone away—but they did linger on
Johnny’s mind.
He didn’t have it
all planned out when he went to the Dorian house. In truth all he had was what
he had learned working before: never show them anything but resolve. If you showed that you were a novice you
didn’t stand a chance; if you acted like an expert you did.
He knew what he was
doing, he had always been a good fighter, and since the militia paid little he
figured the houses would start hiring soldiers—intent on protecting Red
Athens. He had aspirations as a child of
being a House Master, the best one-on-one fighters in the whole of a house, but
those dreams had evaporated when it was explained to him he had to be of the
bloodline to be a House master. Yet he
still dreamed.
The guards at the
door of the Dorian mansion gave Johnny a good look-over before letting him
in. He wondered whom he would talk to;
he was just another tech wizard, able to fix any computer that was broken. But a lot of people knew how to do that, just
like a lot of people knew how to fix hover cars, so he would have to show some
skills in fighting. The man he spoke to
was a leader in the Dorian house; he looked like he was twenty pounds to skinny
and his speech was forced.
“We only hire real
soldiers,” the captain had told him, “not civilians. Go to the militia if you want to fight.”
“You and I both
know they pay squat. What other options
do I have?”
“Go to the Battle
“But nobody has
been going there since the war started.”
“I said go
there…and then when you’ve proven yourself as a skilled fighter maybe we’ll
hire you. House soldiers can’t just come
in here and fill out a form to get in…all you have is computer experience.’
“But I know I can
fight.”
“That may be,
son, but you first have to show you can
use this,” he pointed to his head, “before we give you a position. We get a lot of your sort, people need work,
think the houses would be perfect.”
“But not everyone
survives in the battle arena.”
“No a lot
don’t. Most blade battles end in a
death.”
The captain tried
to explain to Johnny that choosing to be a blade master would likely bring his
death, but as Johnny had little to live for he ignored it, then he remembered
Day, and his love for her.
“Ok, what else can
I do? I have a wife.”
“Find another line
of work. Blade fights get the most pay
and people actually go out to see them.
IF you get good at it you wont want to work for any house--the pay is
better fighting in the arena. And
fighting for a house is just as dangerous.”
BREAK
Johnny and Day’s apartment was a short walk from the
coliseum, and Johnny could often hear the crowd roaring as fighters fought each
other. The building reminded Johnny of a
coliseum combined with a football stadium, it had enough seats for close to a
hundred thousand, but instead of grass the arena had sheets of metal covered with
rubber. Fighters would battle here for top dollar; if you stayed around
long enough, and got a fan base, you could sell toys and t-shirts to fans.
To Johnny the arena
was a fleeting reminder that Red Athens wasn’t a perfect republic. The capitalists who controlled government may
have frowned on it, but the taxes the arena brought in paid for all the big
bills of maintaining the city.
The smell of battle
was evident, and Johnny could see blood marks stained into the rubber mats of
the arena. He wasn’t sure who to talk to if he wanted to be a fighter. As he searched he watched as workers were
busy cleaning the arena, then he almost ran into a man in a cheap blue and
black blazer, and decided to ask him.
“Sir can you tell
me where I have to go to be a fighter?”
“Oh that’s an easy
one…you come to me. What’s your name?”
“Johnny McGavin.”
“Johnny there’s
only a couple fights going on daily right now because of the siege. What makes you want to fight?”
“Need the money.”
“Ah…that’s what
most of us are here for. I used to be a
fighter in need of cash like you, I can relate; before anyone gets a chance in
the arena I personally have to see you fight before I give you a chance. Saves some peoples lives…they realize there
in over their heads. Know what I mean?”
“I didn’t get your
name.”
“Name’s Peter Han,
I live down in sector seven.”
“Who do I have to
fight to get a shot in the arena.”
“That would be my
second…Jim Price. He’s good; if you can
beat him in a hand to hand fight you’re in.”
It was a miniature version of the arena, built into the side
of the coliseum. There were a few
fighters practicing with each other in the corner. There was a gaping hole in the steel arena,
lighting a little of Isis ’ sun into the mix,
like a play on lights it danced across the arena at many different angles.
Jim Price was a big
man, at least a head taller than Johnny and fifty pounds heavier, and he
laughed the first time he saw Johnny.
Johnny wondered if
he was making a mistake.
The least you can
do is give it a shot.
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