by Logan Jacobs
“Oh, wow!” Artemis gasped.
“What?” I asked nervously. “What did I do now?”
“Your Paradise Run is starting to trend,” she answered.
“The human is trending?” Grizz asked as he appeared right next to her.
“Yes,” she answered, a bit incredulous. “Not huge numbers, but the best a Paradise Run trial has done in over ten cycles.”
“You guys have social media too?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer. I was pretty sure that on Earth, social media was the beginning of the apocalypse.
“Yes,” they both answered in unison.
“Fantastic,” I sighed. “Hey, not to change the subject, but, um, can we get lunch? Fighting naked lady nightmare spiders apparently makes me famished.”
“We have a commissary,” Artemis offered.
“Yes,” Grizz bellowed. “Sustenance! To the commissary.”
Grizz slammed his right fist into his left palm, turned, and began to walk toward the door.
“I guess that settles it,” I remarked as I got up from the chair. I was still soot-covered, singed, and splattered with green goo, but I didn’t give a shit. I shoved my hands in the jumpsuits pockets and held my arm out like the handle on a teacup. “How’s about I buy you some lunch, dollface?” I said in a rapid-fire Mid-Atlantic accent.
“The commissary is free,” Artemis replied, “but I am hungry, so yes. Is your arm hurt?”
“No,” I grinned. “You put yours through mine. It’s an old-fashioned sign of affection.”
She grinned shyly and put her arm through mine.
“Stick with me, kid, and the sky's the limit,” I rattled off in a mix between Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart. “I know, I know we could get a rocket or some other such practical transport for which the sky is not the limit.”
She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. “You gonna gab all day, fella, or take a gal to lunch?” she asked in a not-half-bad nineteen forty’s dame voice.
“Nice,” I said with admiration.
“You’ll find I’m full of surprises,” she mimicked with a wicked grin. Arm in arm, we set off for the commissary.
A few hallways and a couple of twists and turns later, Grizz led us into a huge cafeteria style hall filled with all kinds of aliens.
It looked like a mall food court to the power of three, with the side and back walls lined with food stalls. About a hundred different alien aromas hit me at once, and my central nervous system almost had a nervous breakdown. From what I could tell off the bat, there was seared meat, stir-fried vegetables, about four different baked goods going at once, and a couple of unpleasant odors I couldn’t identify and decided to ignore.
“I will find us free spots so that you may fill your bellies!” Grizz exclaimed. “By the Haft of the Mighty Battle Axe, I miss the commissary.” And with that, he dematerialized, and his little orb zoomed off.
“Okay,” I said as I turned to Artemis, “what am I gonna like that isn’t going to make me sick?”
“See that stall over in the corner with the bright red awning?” she asked as she pointed to the far back of the commissary. “That is a Kashmaranian grill pit. They serve a type of blackened meat that is very similar in makeup to Earth cow.”
“Say no more,” I shushed her jokingly, “you had me at grill.”
Just then Grizz’s hologram appeared three tables over. He waved his arm in the air. “Humans!” he bellowed. “I have found our seats!”
We weren’t the only ones whose attention Grizz drew. It seemed like just about every eye in the house settled on us, something I was getting increasingly tired of. Still, I did not shrink from the attention. In fact, it made me stand a little taller.
As that moment of attention stretched out, I could almost hear the murmur as everyone began to whisper. I didn’t think I’d been here long enough to garner this type of attention, but Artemis did say I was trending not ten minutes ago. I wasn’t sure quite what to do, so I just returned the gazes as best I could, determined not to back down.
After a long minute, someone near the back broke the tension by shouting, “Leeroy Jeeeenkins!” As if on cue, the rest of the hall answered in kind and then started to yell, holler, and clap.
“Well fought, human!” someone shouted.
“You have extra-large gonads, Earthling, we will give you that!” someone else chimed.
“That victory was as ugly as your face, but a victory is a victory!” yet another voice yelled out.
Not wanting to just stand there, I grabbed Artemis by the hand and walked over to Grizz. The eyes followed.
We sat down, and things began to go back to normal.
“I’m hoping that was a good thing,” I mused.
“Oh, yes, Marc,” Artemis reassured me. “It appears that word of your Paradise Run Trial has been making the gossip rounds.”
“Yes, human,” Grizz interjected. “Champions are as chatty as a bunch of Defamation Mongers from Plutarck Nine. You are officially a part of the group, Havak. That display made me swell with pride.”
A robot server hovered over to us. Grizz got nothing, his face more than a little disappointed. Artemis ordered a very large sounding sandwich, and I went with the beef-like meat. As we waited for our food, I took a moment to look around.
Now that I was sitting down the commissary reminded me a lot of high school at lunchtime. Groups of people joked and laughed as they either stood in line and ordered their food, sat and ate, did homework, or just hung out. There were a lot of loners as well, but I guess that was to be expected with a competition like this. Not a lot of time to make lasting friendships, especially since you might have to murder them one day.
Our food arrived and the little robots set two large trays down on the table as well as a large pitcher of lemon yellow liquid and two glasses.
My seared meat apparently came with a side of seasoned rice that smelled rich with what I hoped was melted butter and garlic as well as a plate of grilled vegetables. The meat itself was cut in fist sized chunks and served on three large wooden skewers. The outside was still sizzling and had cross hatched grill marks covering the surface. Artemis had not lied, it smelled exactly like steak.
Artemis’ sandwich looked equally incredible. The filling was thinly sliced cured meat similar to pastrami that dripped with melted cheese of some kind. A dark yellow sauce coated two monster pieces of hearty, brown bread that had been lightly toasted. It was served with finger sized wedges of a bright green veggie that smelled like potato.
She dug into her sandwich with gusto, and I decided to do the same with my meal. The meat was tender, juicy, perfectly salted, and medium rare. It had a texture exactly like a thick cut ribeye and tasted like a filet mignon. The rice and veggies were perfect complements, and before I knew it, I’d demolished more than half of the tray, and washed it down with the lemon colored liquid that tasted like limeade.
I looked up and saw Grizz watching both Artemis and I intently. His eyes had a longing look in them, and he licked his lips absently. He noticed me looking at him and regained his composure.
“I was a man of many voracious appetites, human,” he said as he glanced at the leftover meat on my tray. “I would attack a feast with the same ferocity as an enemy on the battlefield. I miss it tremendously.”
“Can’t they write some program or something so you could eat?” I asked a bit naively.
“Yes and no,” Artemis chimed in. “There are food programs for memories like Grizz.”
“But they are flavorless,” he sighed. “A meal with good friends is another joy that is only for the living. But, I must say, watching the two of you devour dead animal carcasses has brightened my day.”
“Anytime, Grizz,” I said with a smile. I felt more than a touch bad for the guy.
I glanced around the room again as I stretched and let my food settle. I noticed that there were definite and very distinct social circles or little groups consisting of maybe three to six champions. Ea
ch group looked very familiar with one another as if they had a bond that went deeper than pure friendship. I counted maybe forty of them before Artemis noticed what I was doing.
“They are called Alliances,” she said as she looked around with me. “If several Champions wish to band together to pool resources, compliment strengths, and cover weaknesses, they may do so for as long as all the members are in agreement. In elimination rounds, if the Alliance members are the ones left standing, they may decide not to terminate each other and continue forward.”
“Seems like it would be a good idea,” I remarked. “Like putting together a team in a game, you want a tank, a healer, someone good at ranged attacks, a berserker, and stuff like that.”
“Indeed, human,” Grizz added, “very much like that. But you must make sure to choose your compatriots wisely. There are those here without honor who would use your talents to their own advantage and then stab you in the back when you least expect it.”
I was about to ask him if he had some personal experience with that when I realized a hush had fallen over the room. Then I noticed that Grizz’s gaze was fixed on the entrance. A small sneer worked its way onto his face, and his eyes blazed with the purest hatred I had ever seen. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I also saw a small bit of fear lurking behind the hate.
I turned and saw why. A group of ten Baal Khaali had entered the commissary. In the middle of them was Tyyraxx, the rather imposing badass from the Breach the night before. They all wore similar garb and had the attitude of a high school football team made up of psychopathic lizards. Other aliens either scrambled to get out of their way or they were shoved out as the group sauntered through the commissary to several tables in the back. The commissary suddenly had an electrical current of danger crackling through it, the Baal Khaali’s very presence putting everyone’s fight-or-flight response on high alert. I could feel it in my own stomach as it tightened, and I found myself wanting to attack them. Guess my fight response was stronger than my flight.
The aliens who had been eating lunch at the table quickly left as the Baal Khaali approached. Tyyraxx sat with his back against the wall, and his minions filled in around him. They didn’t even have to order as trays of food arrived carried by a gaggle of the little server robots. The minions dug in immediately, the ripping and tearing noises they made as they ate were both disgusting and terrifying at the same time.
Tyyraxx held off as the two slits in his snout that passed for a nose twitched as they sniffed the air. His head turned, and his gaze fell upon our table. I could almost feel Grizz’s muscles shake which was impossible due to his incorporeal form, but that’s how visceral his reaction was. Tyyraxx eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back in a malevolent smirk. Then they flicked up, and we locked eyes. It was like looking into an abyss, his horizontal crocodilian pupil was black, lifeless, like a doll’s eyes. It took everything I had not to look away. Finally, Tyyraxx sniffed and dove his snout into a plate of raw meat.
“You have the afternoon to yourself, human,” Grizz said as he turned back to us. He looked tired, and I could see a sadness creep across his face. “You did a commendable job today. Revel in the victory while you can.”
And with that, he winked from existence, and his orb floated away silently. Artemis watched it go, the remainder of her sandwich forgotten on her plate. It took me a second, but I finally put two and two together from something she had said earlier.
“Tyyraxx was in Grizz’s Alliance, wasn’t he?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, and I could see that she was barely holding back tears. “He pretended to be Grizz’s pupil for a time, and they became very close. Tyyraxx was a young Baal Khaali, not fully molted into the vile creature you see now. They are very vulnerable when younger. Grizz protected him, treated him almost like a surrogate son. Then when Tyyraxx reached maturity, he betrayed Grizz at the very first chance.”
A few tears spilled out of her eyes, and my heart ached for her and Grizz. I glanced at Tyyraxx, his mouth red, strips of meat dangled from his teeth, and the heartbreak turned and hardened. My great uncle Joe was one of the most forgiving people I ever knew. But the one thing he could not forgive was disloyalty.
“At the end of the day, your word is all you have,” he would say. “Break it, and you are no better than a snake that eats its young.” At that moment, I made a vow.
“I’m going to kill him, Artemis,” I said, my voice low and quiet. “I don’t know when or how, but I swear before my time in this contest is over, I will skin that lizard and make Grizz proud.”
She turned, and our eyes met. I saw her sadness turn as well.
“Good,” she whispered.
We held each other’s gaze for a beat and then the moment was gone.
“Hey,” I said as I shook the broiling turmoil of emotions off, “you want to get some of that ice cream and spend the rest of the afternoon watching movies with me?”
“Marc Havak,” she replied as her smile returned, “there is nothing else I would rather do in the entire universe.”
Twenty minutes later we were snuggled on my couch with two pints of alien ice cream in our laps, and the wall of my little apartment turned into a giant display screen.
“What are we going to watch again?” Artemis asked between mouthfuls of ice cream.
“Well,” I started as I figured out how to use the remote, “that is a difficult decision, because you haven’t seen any, so this first one will be what you judge all others against. There are so many awesome movies, but I finally just decided to go with my favorite.”
“I cannot wait,” she smiled.
“Me either,” I said as I hit play on the remote.
Artemis snuggled into me tighter as the Paramount logo filled the screen then slowly turned into a mountaintop in South America, and we watched the greatest opening twelve minutes in cinematic history.
I had no idea what the future was going to hold, but for the moment, I was as content as a guy could get. A beautiful woman next to me, the taste of a delicious dessert on my lips, and Raiders of the Lost Ark playing on my TV.
Nope. Didn’t get any better than that.
Chapter Twelve
Artemis and I ended up making it through four and a half movies before we passed out on the couch around midnight. Raiders was followed by Die Hard which led into John Wick that brought us to Point Break and culminated with Face / Off which is where we conked out right around the time Travolta as Castor Troy with the face of Sean Archer was boasting how good looking he was.
Somewhere in the night, we migrated to the bed and damn near overslept. Thankfully Artemis had an infallible internal clock that got us up in the nick of time. A lot of cursing, some hasty teeth brushing, and a to-go cup of coffee later, Artemis and I walked down a busy sidewalk on our way to the Hall of Champions.
We had just stopped at a small café that advertised a crepe-like breakfast wrap filled a mixture of purple scrambled eggs, neon green vegetables that smelled like peppers, and bright day-glow yellow cheese. We’d watched as the small, ancient alien behind the counter cracked an egg the size of my fist and scrambled it inside the shell.
She drizzled a flat stone with oil that steamed immediately as she ladled batter onto it and then cooked the eggs and peppers in a bowl that must have an internal heat source, because when she poured the mixture onto the hot stone, they were already cooked. Like a professional short-order cook, she flung two slices of the obnoxiously yellow cheese onto the concoction just before she folded the now-cooked batter over the filling with practiced, deft hands. The little alien cut the square crepe in two with a laser knife that seared the edges before she wrapped each half in paper and handed them to us.
We grabbed some bottled water and hurried to the Hall. The crepe was delicious, the purple eggs fluffy and rich as if cooked in a half a stick of butter, and the cheese was a gooey, creamy taste explosion. I was glad that nearly dying on a daily basis was a good way to burn calories or I’d be as big as a damn ho
use.
“…thought he was going to die for sure and then he went under the truck?” Artemis had been gushing about Raiders for the last three minutes. “Shut up! Oh, and, and, the bad guy with the huge sword and Indy just shoots him! Yes. You don’t bring a sword to a gunfight!”
“I’m really glad you liked it,” I laughed as I popped the last bit of my crepe into my mouth. “It’s a classic.”
“I can see why the Acherons chose you for a Champion, Marc,” she said knowingly.
“That makes exactly one of us,” I joked. “Of all the people on Earth who would kick ass and take names, I was not one of them.”
“You still don’t think you are worthy,” she said, not as a question but more as a statement as she shook her head in disbelief. “You have survived an epic space battle, defeated demons on an alien moon, and survived Dolemidian Lure Spiders!”
“I guess,” I muttered, unconvinced, “I was just trying not to die. Nothing worthy about that.”
“Marc,” Artemis started, “I do not think you showed me those motion pictures on a whim. They were very exciting, action-stuffed thrill experiences for sure, but they were also all about rising to the occasion of extraordinary circumstances against overwhelming odds. You were drawn to certain ones because deep down in your heart, you knew you had greatness within you.”
“They were just movies, Artemis,” I said dismissively. “Without getting all Oprah, they were a way for me to escape a not so hot childhood. Nothing special about that.”
“I have been through every known record there is of the Crucible of Carnage,” Artemis explained, “well over two billion pieces of data from all across the known megaverse. Everything from first-hand accounts, to rumors, videos, communiques, books, journals, captain’s logs, manifests, and all manner of evidence in between. Here is what I am certain of, Marc Havak. The Acherons have never been wrong in their estimation of why a person deserves to be a Champion. They have many criteria and chose some for their ferocity, some for their courage, others for their deviousness, and yes, some for their ability to maim and murder without hesitation, but they are never wrong. Ever.”