The City of Ashes

by Robert I. Katz

  I nodded. “Fewer than twenty-five by now,” I said. “One of them tried to kill me and I killed him instead. I’m sure there are others. You remove a few pieces from the board and the odds in your favor improve.”

  Celim Bakar winced and seemed genuinely distressed. “Winning brings fame and glory. Most of them do not think beyond this.” He shook his head. “They are young.”

  “Fame, glory, unlimited breeding rights and an appointment to the Presidium,” I pointed out, “which includes a vote on every action that your nation takes. Power.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “And which of these things motivates you?”

  “Unlike most of my people, I have studied our history. The First Empire was the ultimate power in this galaxy for over four thousand years, and it is gone as if it had never existed. Power is an illusion, in the end. Nobody keeps power forever.”

  “Four thousand years might as well be forever, for most of us. More often than not, kings and Imperators die in bed.”

  “Bah.” He grimaced. “My people would never tolerate a king. Most kings were congenital morons. No, we are given power for a short period of time only, and then it is somebody else’s turn to make decisions.” He shook his head. “‘Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai, Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp, Abode his hour or two, And went his way.’” He shook his head again and sighed.

  Celim Bakar was an interesting fellow. “Omar Khayyam?”

  “Yes. Omar Khayyam’s poetry tends to dwell on the themes of futility, acceptance, making the best of each moment, and transience. He was a wise man.”

  “So again, which of these things motivates you?”

  “The survival of my people is what motivates me,” he said.

  I pondered that. Celim Bakar’s concerns were legitimate. One cannot reveal what one does not know and the crew of the Endeavor had deliberately been kept in the dark regarding Meridien’s preparations and ideas regarding either retaliation or pre-emption. We did not know what might be happening back home and we certainly did not know what the governments of Meridien and our allied nations might be planning, but it seemed certain that none of it boded well for the future of Gath. “I think you’re right to be worried,” I said.

  He looked at me. “Will you help me?”

  And there it was. I had been given a mission: to make Gath look ridiculous, to weaken Gath’s morale and to give heart to Gath’s enemies, to beat them at their own game. And yet it is said that no plan survives contact with the enemy. Celim Bakar presented an unexpected opportunity—maybe. “Help you how?” I asked.

  He drew in a deep breath. “If we continue on this course, you and I will fight. We will have to. Maybe you can beat me.” He shrugged. “I don’t think you can, but you have done very well in the games so far and I would be foolish to deny the possibility.”

  “You’re asking me to let you win,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I’m asking you to help me win.”

  “Why should I?”

  “You came with a military escort. You’re not here as a private citizen. Would your nation be better served by your victory in these games or by a change in my government’s policies?”

  And there it was. I sat back on my log and considered. The patterns here could play out in so many different ways. “I need to think about this,” I finally said. “Meanwhile, we both need to get to the finish line. For now, let’s work together. We can fight later, if that’s what we decide to do.”

  “Then swear it,” he said. “Swear that you will abide by your word. Swear that you will not betray me.”

  I frowned. “Why would you take my word?”

  He gave me a hard smile. “I always know when people are telling me the truth,” he said. “It’s a gift.”

  Again, Celim Bakar surprised me. I looked at him and smiled back. “I also know when people are telling me the truth.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then we will both swear. Neither will betray the other. We will work together until the end. If you decide that we must fight, you will tell me and it will be at the finish line, in the eyes of the world. I swear this to you.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I agree.”

  “Good.” He drew a deep breath, then turned to the woods at our side and said, “Janelle, come out.”

  I knew she was there, of course. I had been waiting to see what she would do. The bushes rustled and the brunette amazon who had beaten Jennifer in the knife tournament stepped into our small clearing. She was as tall as me and if you liked them muscled and tough, one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her hair was black, thick and braided, and hung down to her waist. Her shoulders were broad, her waist thin. A narrow white scar went from below one ear to the corner of her mouth and she had two spears tied across her back. She looked at me with suspicion and said something in her own language to Celim Baker.

  “This is not courteous behavior,” he said to her. “This man is now our ally. We will speak so that he can understand us.”

  She frowned, then gave a little shrug. “If you betray us, I will kill you slowly,” she said.

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Yes, of course,” I said. “I would expect nothing less.”

  Her eyes narrowed and I thought for a moment that she would attack me but then she gave a reluctant smile. “That did sound a little silly, didn’t it?”

  “But very sincere.” I smiled. “Before we go any further, I think that Janelle should swear as well.”

  She shrugged and did so and then sat next to Celim Bakar on his log. Almost absently, he put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close to his side. “What is our plan?” she asked.

  “Simple enough,” I said. “There are four of them and three of us but we have the advantage of surprise. Let’s take them.”

  “I like simple plans,” she said.

  Celim Bakar frowned, looking pensive. “Yes,” he said. “I agree.”

  Chapter 9

  We could have simply circled around through the woods and gone on but that would have left them free to assassinate the next contestant who came down the trail, which somehow bothered all three of us; and anyway, meeting adversity and overcoming it would give us points.

  We did circle around but only until we were right behind them, slipping soundlessly through the shadows, almost close enough to reach out and touch them. Celim Bakar nodded his head and we exploded. He jumped on the one with the bow, put a knee in the middle of his back, grabbed his head and wrenched it to the side. The archer’s neck cracked and he fell, dead before he touched the ground.

  I took the one with the stone spear point. It wasn’t pretty or elegant. I jammed my own spear in his back and he fell, screaming. Then I did what Celim Bakar had done, I crouched over him and twisted his neck until it broke.

  Janelle had a little more difficulty. Her target had enough warning to turn and raise his weapon. She aimed a kick at his groin but he jerked to the side, enough to partially deflect the kick. He grunted as her foot slammed into his thigh. He completed a turn and aimed a kick of his own at her head. She moved in under his guard and slammed her knee into his face. His nose crunched and he fell to the ground, still breathing but unconscious.

  By this time, Celim Bakar and I had moved on the fourth man. He looked wildly back and forth, then dropped his spear, turned, and ran. Celim Bakar hefted his own spear, as if thinking of throwing it, then shrugged. “Let him go,” he said. “He’s lost. He has no chance of winning the tournament.”

  “Unless he creeps back and kills us while we’re sleeping,” Janelle said. “Then he might win.”

  I shrugged. “Small odds of that. We’ll be looking for him to try.”

  Her posture indicated that she did not entirely agree with me but she said nothing more and tied up the unconscious one with some vines. “They’ll free him when the contest is over. Unless anothe
r contestant comes along and decides to slit his throat.”

  Celim Bakar and I looked at each other. I shook my head. Definitely not our problem. “You don’t get any points for killing a restrained contestant. Let’s get going,” he said.

  The next few kilometers were uneventful. Night fell but both moons were bright. We slowed our pace but kept moving until close to midnight, then came upon a grassy clearing with a small stream. “Stop for the night?” I said.

  Celim and Janelle looked at each other. Some wordless communication took place then they both moved to the edge of the clearing and began to gather leaves. The night was warm enough and the sky was clear. There was no need to make a shelter. “I’ll take the first watch,” I said. Celim and Janelle lay down on their pile of leaves and were soon asleep. The night remained quiet and nothing approached us. After three hours, I stood a few feet away from Celim and poked him with my spear. He came awake instantly, knife in his fist, then grinned and rose soundlessly to his feet. I laid my head down on the soft pile of leaves and fell into grateful oblivion.

  Morning found us back on the trail. The sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot and the air smelled fresh. The first few hours were thankfully uneventful and we made good time. “This will be over soon,” Celim Bakar said to me as we walked. “Have you given any thought to my request?”

  I frowned. Truthfully, I had thought of little else. “I’m still thinking,” I said.

  He nodded, and left me alone.

  The trail narrowed and soon we were forced to go single file, Janelle first, then Celim and then me. A few kilometers further on, Janelle stopped. “Something’s wrong,” she said. I had been aware of it for some time, a faint, acrid smell, unlike anything I had ever known. Unfortunately, it was growing stronger as we neared the end of the trek.

  “There is a clearing up ahead,” Celim said to me.

  “Leading to a stone embankment that contains the entrance to a series of caves,” I said.

  We had all memorized the map. Janelle bit her lip. Celim frowned. Many animals used caves for shelter.

  “The finish line is just beyond the caves,” Janelle said. “We have to go through the clearing.”

  Celim shook his head. “I’m tired of this. Let’s get it over with.”

  We were young, strong, fast and physically fit. There wasn’t much on this world that should be able to intimidate the three of us, but then again, discretion may or may not be the better part of valor but it won’t get you killed. Finally, I shrugged. Fuck it. I was tired of this, too. “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

  Celim nodded. Janelle still looked worried. “Men,” she muttered, and Celim grinned at her.

  The trail was too obvious and too exposed. We split up, got down on our stomachs and wriggled forward through the underbrush. Soon, I was crouched on the edge of the clearing, which was surrounded on each side by rocky cliffs, turning the whole thing into a sort of amphitheater, or a trap.

  A few seconds later, I could see Celim and then Janelle’s face a few meters away, heads barely visible against the vegetation. Bones lay on the floor of the clearing. Many bones. Across from us, the trail continued through a narrow passage. A meter or so away from the trail, a dark cave opening loomed in the cliffs.

  Despite our eagerness to go on, we weren’t insane. We waited and we watched and half an hour later another contestant walked down the trail behind us. I smiled. It was the fourth member of the group who had tried to ambush us the day before, the one who got away. Apparently, he had recovered his spear, or made a new one. As I looked at him, I wondered how he had gotten this far. He was loud, for one thing. He made no attempt at all to walk silently. Sticks and dried leaves crunched under his feet. He was tall and thin and didn’t appear very formidable.

  I had watched him fight, though. He was fast and a lot stronger than he appeared. He knew what he was doing in the octagon, but out here? I shrugged. There had to be more to him than we could see.

  He blundered past us into the clearing, then stopped and frowned down at the bones. Something stirred in the cave opening and then emerged. “Oh, shit,” I whispered silently.

  Many thousands of years ago, there lived in Southeast Asia a species of giant ape called Gigantopithecus, the largest primate ever known. It stood over three meters tall, weighed over 500 kilos, ate primarily fruit and was related to the orangutan.

  This thing was bigger, not taller but broader across the shoulders and enormous through the chest. It crawled out of the cave mouth, unfolded to its full height, glared at the tiny human that had dared to invade its domain, and roared. It didn’t look like an orangutan, more like a mutated gorilla. Judging from all the bones, I didn’t think it ate fruit.

  The sound was overwhelming. All around us, the jungle grew silent. The man stared at it but strangely, he grinned. He pulled the spear from his back, held it in front of him in guard position and said, “Come on, you ugly bastard. It’s time to die.”

  I looked over at Celim. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Janelle stared at the thing, her face white.

  The ape stopped roaring and what might have been a smile crossed its face. It shuffled forward. The man stood his ground, smiling. The ape seemed in no hurry. Within a second, it loomed over the puny human and his insignificant looking spear. It cocked its head to the side, inspecting its prey, then it raised both hands over its head and brought them down.

  The man was no longer there. He was fast, very fast, with augmented speed and reflexes. Suddenly, he stood next to the ape and thrust his spear toward its belly. The ape turned and the spear grazed its side, opening a shallow cut and then the ape snatched the spear away, held it in its hands and snapped it like a twig. The man stared, turned to run and suddenly, the giant ape was holding him by both shoulders, three meters off the ground, staring into his face. The man snarled and reached his arms out to both sides of the ape’s head. A snapping sound and a bright blue burst of electricity erupted from the man’s fingers. The ape roared again, even louder than before. It staggered but didn’t let go. Then suddenly the man’s head was between the ape’s enormous teeth. It crunched down. Blood fountained up from the man’s neck. His decapitated body twitched, once, twice, then slumped lifelessly in the gigantic ape’s arms. The ape’s teeth moved back and forth, grating on bone. It spat out a piece of skull, swallowed the rest of the head and taking the body with him, crawled back into its cave.

  “That’s our cue,” I said.

  Janelle nodded. We ran across the clearing, back onto the trail and didn’t stop until we had put the cave and its enormous guardian far behind us.

  The finish line was concealed within a stone arch lined with flowers on both sides. We looked at it. Celim Bakar stood next to me, arms crossed in front of his chest, his face impassive. A scoreboard containing all the rankings was set up next to the arch. Celim Bakar’s name was still listed first but I was second, only a few points behind. Janelle was fifth.

  I liked Celim Bakar, and I admired him. He was smart, strong, honest and loyal. He stood there, waiting, asking for no quarter, ready to accept whatever decision I made. He was bigger than me and he was stronger. I thought I was a touch faster but I had a weapon that he lacked, two weapons, actually. I had seen his face when the ape killed his last victim. Celim had been both surprised and amazed at the electricity the man could generate. I had the same ability. Celim, apparently did not. And there was also the retractable claw in each index finger, which connected to small glands in my palm that manufactured a nerve poison, similar to cobra venom. If I flexed my hand just the right way, the claw would extend.

  I looked down at my open palm, flexed my fingers, smiled to myself and shook my head. In the end, I had a mission. That mission was to advance the interests of my nation and I had come to the conclusion that giving a seat in the government of Gath to Celim Bakar, a national hero inclined to favor peace over war was more important than my own ego.

  “Let’s walk through together,” I said.
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  I could see Janelle suddenly relax and she gave a tiny, shaky nod. Celim regarded me impassively. “Very well,” he said. “You have been a good companion.”

  And so we did. It was pretty anti-climactic, in the end. There weren’t any cheering crowds nor waving banners. We walked under the arch together, the three of us linking arms. Two judges impassively noted our times into the scoreboard.

  Twelve competitors were dead but six remained out on the course and it was at least barely possible that one or more of them could still beat Celim’s total score. They showed us to a tent where a feast was laid out on a buffet table. I walked over to a trash can and dumped the remains of the alligator then I picked up a plate and began filling it. Janelle and Celim did the same. We sat together at a table and waited for the contest to be over.

  “So, assuming you win,” I said to Celim, “what will you do with your unlimited breeding rights?”

  Janelle narrowed her eyes. “He will have his babies with me.”

  Celim rolled his eyes but gave her an indulgent smile. He continued to eat, shoveling food into his mouth with metronomic regularity.

  “All of them?”

  They were sitting very close together, comfortable with each other. “All of them,” she said.

  “Seems a waste,” I said.

  She grinned. “I shall keep him occupied.”

  I smiled. Janelle was quite a woman. I didn’t doubt her.

  All six remaining contestants had to cross the giant ape’s territory. Three died. Two more staggered in, one after the other, nursing minor injuries. The last managed to get past the ape’s enclosure but could not continue. He collapsed a kilometer from the finish line with a broken arm and a severed brachial artery. The overall scores did not change significantly and two hours later, Celim Bakar was crowned the grand champion of the games.