Arena 4

by Logan Jacobs

  “Because I’m a charming rogue with dashingly handsome good looks?” I fired back at him.

  “In your nocturnal fantasies,” Grizz harrumphed.

  “Trust me, Grizz,” I said deadpan. “You do not want to know what is in my nocturnal fantasies.”

  “But I do, sugar,” Aurora said. Her voice, as per usual, dripped with barely hidden sexual innuendo.

  “Sugar, you’d dig it the most,” I fired back and smiled.

  “Yeah, Grizz,” PoLarr chimed in, “I am also very well acquainted with what is in them, and Marc is one hundred percent correct. You want no part of them. Trust me.”

  Since I’d gotten back from the police station, we’d all gathered around the Command Center so that I could tell everyone about my morning. The gang was all there. Artie had saved my life and brought me some breakfast and a very large coffee.

  “There were no other details about who, what, or when an attempt would be made?” Nova asked.

  “Unfortunately, no,” I replied.

  “And we won’t get a chance to do any more magnificent sleuthing, because the President is set to arrive in like, fifteen minutes,” Artemis blurted out as she read a notification on the computer. “Divine feces! Come on guys, we have to get to the Gateway room.”

  “Tally ho!” I cried and stood up. “Wait, what is the Gateway room?”

  “Um, it’s where the Gateway is?” Artemis replied as if I were a mentally deficient but very cute animal. “I’ll explain on the way.”

  “I shall meet you there,” Grizz said as he started to disappear. “I am very excited to meet your King in person.”

  “He’s not a--” I started to say but Grizz was gone. “Never mind.”

  All of us gave ourselves a quick once over. We were dressed for a day of training but in jumpsuits and light armor, but it would have to do. Well, except for Aurora who looked like she always did. I sincerely hoped the President wouldn’t pop a gasket when he met her.

  “Guys, come on, while we are still aging through early development!” Artemis urged and began to walk at a very brisk pace toward the door.

  Our sexy, adorable, erstwhile AI in human form led us through yet another part of the Hall of Champions that I had never seen.

  We got in an elevator near the central part of the building. It was a huge shaft that housed nine elevator cars in a large circle. The five of us stepped on after a group of other champions exited. A few of them nodded and said hi and were friendly enough. Most of them gave us steely glares and didn’t say a word. Which was fine by me. I wasn’t in the making friends business. I was in the kicking ass and winning cool shit for my planet business. And business was booming.

  Once we were all in, Artie punched in a special code, and the elevator began to descend rapidly.

  “Where is the Gateway room, Artie?” I asked as I watched levels tick by quickly.

  “Near the core of the planet,” she replied as if she had just said something like the basement.

  “Cool,” was all I could manage. Every day was something new in this wacky journey I’d been on. At least it was never boring.

  I shot looks at the other three ladies, and they just shrugged.

  After several unusually silent minutes, the elevator slowed and stopped. When the doors opened, I was greeted by a sight that came close to short-circuiting my brain. I hadn’t had nearly enough coffee for the science fiction writers brain vomit before me.

  There was a huge loading dock made up of a dark gray metal scaffolding that was practically crawling with technology. It was also crawling with the weird, ugly, dwarf-like aliens I had first met when I teleported in from the Doom-esque moon where Artemis and I first fought together. It seemed like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

  I had forgotten what Grizz had called them, Braunschweiger or something Tolkien inspired and unpronounceable, but they looked like the Ugnaughts from Cloud City crossed with Hobbits. They scurred all over the scaffolding walkways, platforms, and control panels.

  They were not the strangest thing by far, though.

  The wall in front of me looked like space the moment a ship in Star Wars jumped to lightspeed, black with the stars stretched into long stripes of light. It must have been two hundred feet in diameter with a thick black tubing that crackled with blue and purple electricity around its circumference. There was a lightning-filled hole in the center that broiled with thunder. Every thirty seconds, a pod-like cylinder, kinda like the ones used when you went to the drive-through at the bank but fifteen feet long and four feet wide, would shoot out of it, arc through the air another forty feet and then get caught by a large chute that delivered the pod to one of fifty loading docks spaced throughout the room.

  The docks themselves formed a giant half-circle airport hub and were held up on mechanical lifts. All around me, more of the little alien guys helped various alien creatures, or cargo crates, out of the pods. As soon as the creature was upright or whatever its particular version of sitting or standing was, the little guys would back away slowly. The aliens who arrived in the pods, no matter the size, shape, color, or even visible mouth, all puked violently. It was a strange brew of alien upchuck. Some did it in a fairly normal fashion, the contents of their last meal splashing on the metal deck of the dock where the alien guys would wash it off with hoses that sprayed purple foam.

  Others were… not so normal. A forest green bi-pedal creature that reminded me of a large frog with peacock feathers opened its mouth and bright, translucent, blue bubbles floated out of its mouth. One creature threw up flaming rocks. Another acid. Another one that had plate sized mouths in the center of its serving tray sized hands that emitted a greasy, black cloud that tried to eat one of the little alien guys before his co-workers could blast the cloud in a red mist that turned it to dust.

  “If you’re gonna spew, spew into this,” PoLarr said in a spot on Garth impression from Wayne’s World.

  “Party on,” I said, and we high-fived.

  “Oh, good lord, you two sugars need to get a room,” Aurora said and rolled her eyes.

  “Already did,” PoLarr teased and high-fived me again. “Actually, it was a roof.”

  “Oh, god,” Nova said. “It is very annoying that the two of you essentially share one brain.”

  “Nova,” PoLarr said with a sudden sigh, “if you only knew.”

  I chuckled under my breath. That chuckle died when I heard a familiar voice from behind me.

  “Champion Havak,” Trillium Vou said in her obviously fake “nice” voice. It was like nails on a chalkboard that sent cold shivers up my spine.

  I turned slowly and there she was in all her mid-Eighties Nagel glory.

  “So good to see you,” she praised. It dripped with back-stabbing honey. Trillium was the Crucible of Carnage’s yellow journalism poster child. She hosted several shows dedicated to all the news, and gossip, surrounding the most popular spectator sport in the megaverse. I’d been on her show several times, and it was like walking into a pit of vipers dressed as sexy TV personalities.

  “The pleasure, as always, is mine,” I replied with my own special blend of ‘I just said something nice but really I hate your stupid smug face’ congeniality.

  “I figured I’d see you today,” she said and carefully removed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “You and the President being best buddies an all.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I tried to brush the comment aside.

  “He would and has. Many times,” Trillium smiled. “Well, I need to prepare my team for the big entrance. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you, and the rest of Team Havak on my show soon. Unless you lose and get disbanded, that is.”

  She flashed her big shark grin one last time, turned and walked away over to where a gaggle of her minions, I’m sorry, assistants, waited.

  “God, I hate her,” I mumbled. “I hate her so much.”

  “Shhh,” Artemis hushed me. “Tyche’s here.”

  Sure enough, I saw his rega
l holographic visage appear near what I assumed was going to be the landing dock for the President. He smiled pleasantly at those around him as he walked over to where all of us stood.

  “Artemis, my dear, good to see you,” he said as he looked us over, “and the rest of Team Havak. It is a momentous day. A privilege to host such an esteemed dignitary and leader from a world so new to the Forge of Heroes. Champion Havak I trust you will show him, how do you say it? Ah, yes, the ropes.”

  “You know it,” I replied casually. Again, there was something just not quite right about Tyche. I couldn’t put my finger on it but he set me on edge.

  “Wonderful,” he smiled at me and then immediately turned to Artemis as if I had been a chore to check off a list. “Dolos told me you two ran into each other last night. I’m glad you are reconnecting.”

  “Yes, sir,” Artemis said hesitantly.

  I did not like seeing her cowed to anyone, and she acted like a reticent child every time Tyche appeared.

  “I did not expect to see him,” she confessed. “I wish you would have told me he was out of the mainframe and into the real world.”

  “But you did not ask,” he cajoled as if she was the one who didn’t tell him something. The deflection was so subtle I didn’t think anyone else noticed it. “I am many things, my dear, but alas, mind reader is not one of them.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” Artie respond immediately as if she had been slapped.

  “Oh, no need to be, dear,” he reassured, but it was empty and hollow and almost like a threat. “Again, I am glad my two-star programs have reunited. Dolos asks about you all the time, but he is very busy doing such a wonderful job for Hann-Abel.”

  “Dolos is a fantastic attaché, Tyche,” Artemis admitted, and her head sunk a little lower on her shoulders. She seemed to be shrinking before my eyes. Making herself smaller in front of the hologram.

  “I know, he always was such a fast learner,” Tyche boasted, “it was why I chose him to come into the real first. You do very well, too, dear. Such adequate work you do for Team Havak.”

  “Thank you,” Artemis practically whispered. It was all I could do not to put my arms around her. Tyche was a dick wrapped in magnanimous clothing. I’m sure he and Trillium got along famously.

  “Yes, dear,” he said and smiled sweetly at her. “Oh, it looks like the Gateway is revving up for the arrival. Excuse me.”

  Tyche turned and walked over to the side of the platform without any more concern for us. I didn’t have much time to ponder over his behavior or why it sent warning bells clanging like a fire alarm in my head because there were several loud thunder cracks that shook the whole room.

  I looked up and saw that the center of the Gateway had turned into a maelstrom of electrical activity. Fingers of lightning shot from the sphere in every direction. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end as the air became charged. The streaked stars that surrounded the center began to spin counter-clockwise and there was a low hum that I could feel in my teeth.

  Then there was a crash of thunder that I thought would spit reality in two as the lightning flashed white hot, and I could have sworn that something was wrong and we were all going to die, but as I looked around, no one else was worried, so I shrugged and guessed that this was normal. I mean, it sure as hell wasn’t normal, but what did I know.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, one of the long cylinders shot out of the middle of the lightning filled sphere. It seemed to hang there, suspended for a long, drawn-out moment, and then gravity took hold, and it began to arch directly toward where all of us stood on the platform.

  One of the chutes extended out to meet the cylinder and caught it. The cylinder sped down the gentle hill of the chute like it was a flume ride at a carnival. It came to rest at the bottom as it bumped a large bean bag like pad at the bottom of the chute.

  The ugly little aliens rushed over to it and pressed a whole lot of buttons on a control panel and then one of them sprayed it with purple goop which sent up big clouds of purple steam. When the steam cleared one of the guys typed in a code on a keypad, there was a loud hydraulic hiss, and the lid opened, and the President of the United States of America sat bolt upright.

  “That was tremendous,” he said as the aliens helped him out of the pod. “I think I just saw heaven, and it looked like the lobby of one of my hotels. Which I knew it would.”

  He stood to his full height, straightened the front of his navy blue suit jacket, and tucked the bright red tie which was flopped over his shoulder back into the suit. His hair, well, it looked perfect. Or, what I assume he thought was perfect. The POTUS looked around and gave everyone one of his thousand-watt smiles.

  Behind him, his Daughter got out of the pod as well. She was not smiling. In fact, she looked a little green. She took a few wobbly steps, attempted to stand upright, and then projectile vomited all over the head of the nearest ugly alien.

  “Hingle McCringleberry!” she shouted to no one, then shook her head as if clearing a fog, and then stared wide-eyed at her surroundings. Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. Then closed for good.

  I recognized the feeling she was having. Her brain was trying to catch up after going through the wormhole to get here and take in all the weirdness that passed for normal for the rest of the megaverse.

  The ugly alien who she had puked on walked calmly over to a little shower while his buddies used handheld scanners on both the President and his Daughter. Green cones of laser light played across their bodies. I’d forgotten how tall they both were. The POTUS was well over six feet tall and cut an imposing figure full of gravitas. The impression of gravitas kind of went to hell when you got to the top of his head, but he was still the leader of the free world and that kind of power threw off a certain charisma. His Daughter was a good five foot eleven and had a charisma all her own that slowly came back as she got a hold of herself. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her maroon power suit and straightened the locks of her long, wavy blonde hair.

  Another of the ugly aliens walked up to them with a fancy box. I’d never seen this aspect of arriving through a gateway before. Artemis and I had done it when we’d escaped the terror-filled moon on my first day as champion, but I’d never witnessed the whole process on this large of a scale. The alien opened the box and the POTUS and DOTUS reached in and took out tiny, flesh-colored, molded hearing aid looking devices which they immediately put in their right ears.

  “Universal translators,” I mumbled to myself as I realized what they were. “Nice.”

  A group of the ugly aliens had formed around the POTUS. One of them held a big bucket while another a hose. They talked animatedly amongst themselves as they watched the President carefully. He just looked down at them and smiled. Then he got tired of standing still and walked through the crowd of them toward Tyche.

  “My President,” Tyche intended with grace, poise, and power. “It is an honor to meet you. My name is Tyche, emissary of the Aetheron Ozusti, and it is with great reverence that they send me to welcome you.”

  “It is,” the POTUS nodded and tried to shake Tyche’s hand, which he couldn’t, since Tyche was a hologram. “Nice for you to meet me Tie-Chi. Some of the people on my planet practice that. They are trade partners of ours, not the best of course, we’re the best, but China is still fantastic. Hey, Marc!”

  The President spotted me and practically walked through Tyche, and his little entourage to come over. He grabbed my hand, shook it vociferously, and pulled me into a sort of half hug.

  “My best friend in the galaxy,” he gushed. “So good for you to see me. You look good. Taller. Very fit. Marc, you’re a ten.”

  “Um, thanks?” I said when he stopped pumping my hand up and down. “You look good too, Mr. President.”

  “Of course.” He nodded. The President looked very much like he did during his hey-day in the mid-Eighties. One of the “prizes” Earth had been given after I won a match was genetically modified food. Apparentl
y it tasted delicious and caused massive cellular regeneration. Like eating a Super Mario Bros. 1Up. Or a Twinkie that was the Fountain of Youth. “Hey, why were the freaky midgets acting funny over there? Is it because they couldn’t believe they were seeing me in person? It was. I know. You know it. They know it. Everyone knows it.”

  “Uh, yup, that and I think they were expecting you to vomit, sir,” I said as I managed to pull out of his grip. “Most beings get violently ill after coming through a wormhole gateway.”

  “Huh,” he grunted. “Not me. I don’t vomit. Ever. Haven’t since I was five. I said: ‘stomach if you puke, you’re fired.’ Haven’t thrown up since.”

  “Good to know,” was all I could think to say.

  Tyche had stalked over behind the President and cleared his throat. By now, the DOTUS had regained her composure, and she walked over as well to stand next to her father. She looked me up and down with her pale green eyes appraisingly.

  “Um, yes, Mr. President, First Daughter,” he said loudly enough for the whole room to hear. It wasn’t like he shouted, but more like his voice had been turned up. It pulled everyone’s attention. I caught a glimpse of Trillium Vou just off to the side, a swarm of her little ping pong ball sized digital cameras hovering around her head. She was like a jackal stalking the edges of a fresh kill, waiting for the predators to get their fill before she slunk in to gnaw the meat from the bone. “As I was saying, the Aetheron’s welcome you to the home of the Forge of Heroes. We hope that you have a successful trip and find all that you are looking for. Please accept this ceremonious ‘Key’ to Valience City.”

  One of Tyche’s assistants, an actual flesh and blood alien, a tall, graceful, turquoise blue feathered bird alien, walked over and held an oversized gold key run through with green veins of pulsating light on a plush pillow in front of the President.

  “Yes, yes,” the President said almost dismissively. “Thank you. Thank you all. I accept this key and your friendship. Now, where are all the smoking hot alien babes?

  “Dad!” his Daughter exclaimed and slid in front of him. “Tyche, thank you for your generous gift and hospitality. The planet Earth is truly grateful for all that you, and the Aetheron Ozusti, have bestowed upon us. It is an honor to meet you, and we know that our visit will be fruitful.”