The Game of the Millennium: A Novel

by James Martin

  He knew from his readings that history can be mangled and misrepresented to be used as a device for exhibiting one’s strength rather than highlighting weaknesses. Cheshirs would’ve gone extinct long ago, warring like savages, had it not been for a few paramount ancient weaponry discoveries that has made empires bow to them and planets crumble.

  The frightening questions came to his mind: How did we come to have this technology? Who provided it? If it was us, what happened to us as a species?

  A chain of events or strategic moves never start with the action, the bang. A lesson most of the cheshirs never learned in this age, but one Astraos was beginning to understand. They start with an idea, then a conversation that leads to the movement of a pawn, or a minor piece, or a heavy piece, then the game truly begins.

  “I’m off to Earth.”

  She snaked her body around the bottom-right pole of his bed—evolving from a chimpanzee-like species had its advantages, her feet had opposable thumbs. “I know.”

  “Will you watch me shine?”

  Astraos turned and walked out the door.

  She smiled to his back. “I will. . .”

  Galactic Calendar - 1258789 - Feels Like Summer

  The bridge was blazing red, cacophony ensued from a direct hit, rumbling and rolling through. What appeared to be a steel bar bent slightly overhead and a few wires shot out from the sides. Lauren turned crimson from shock and horror. She had gone from one precarious situation to the next.

  Nate said, “Macellus, we can’t afford another hit.”

  Kat said, “Shields are at fifty percent.”

  “Kat, what can we reroute?”

  “You trust the airlock seals?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “If you do, we can close off all power besides the bridge and concentrate it on the shields that should increase them.”

  “By how much?” Another blast shook the entire ship, and Nate sat next to Macellus.

  “We’re running out of lives, Macellus.”

  Macellus said, “I’m heading for the asteroid field.”

  Kat said, “I need time. One more hit and I won’t be able to reroute the power.”

  Astraos sat down behind Macellus. “Asteroid field? Look, I know you’re a kaledio—”

  “I got it, Astraos.”

  “He’s got it, Astraos.”

  “Right. . .”

  “You got it, right?”

  Macellus said, “Never fear, a kaledio is here.”

  “Whoooa.” The word barely on the tongue of each person on the ship as they dipped and went into evasive maneuvers coming up on the asteroid belt.

  “Strap in. Everyone strap in!” Nate’s voice bellowed, and he grabbed a sliding Lauren and placed her in a seat—fastening the buckle for her. She kept a sufficiently bewildered look on her face. Everything was happening at such a rapid pace. . . and she was the only one without a clue. And I am on a freaking spaceship! Her mouth hung loosely, but she coerced herself to reply, “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Macellus said, “Captain, we need to lose the extra weight.”

  “But that ship Astraos hijacked could be a nice score.”

  Kat said, “Nate!”

  “Fine, dump it.”

  The ship shook slightly then pulled forward. “There we go, captain. I dumped it right into their crosshairs.”

  Another hit. . .

  “I hope you’re better at navigating the asteroid belt than you are at distracting them. Too late to divert the power to the shields?”

  Kat said, “Aye.”

  “I figured.” Nate typed into the console. “Kat, get the airlocks down. I don’t want any nasty surprises when a rock gets through the hull.”

  “Aye.”

  “What do you mean by when?”

  “Macellus, you may be a kaledio. You may even be the best pilot in this solar system, but there’s no way you’re going to navigate an asteroid belt with no shields and not get dinged.”

  “Wait a minute. . . This solar system? Filled with subs?” Lauren heard the derogatory connotation. She would attempt to remember and ask about it. Astraos smiled at her and mouthed the words, “We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” It had a nice calming effect on her. She relaxed. I’m sure they’ve done this before.

  “Fine. This sector, maybe. But you still signed off on our death certificates. And I’m still cutting the bridge off.”

  During the pandemonium, Lauren’s brain malfunctioned and she decided she would ask now about the comment made, “What are subs?”

  Macellus turned back and said, “Shit, I am sorry. I didn’t—” Lauren jerked her head back, seeing this alien with his dark blue skin, bald head, no eyebrows and pale white eyes.

  “Concentrate!”

  “Fine. Fine. I will prove to you how skilled I am, once again. This time, I want a wager.” This time. . . The two words were reassuring, helping keep her complacent.

  “Now?” Nate sighed, his voice filled with indignation. . . fucking Macellus.

  Macellus paused. “A moment.” The ship barrel rolled, flipped under an asteroid, evaded another and dipped right as a space fighter crashed into it. The ship elevated above a small asteroid barely missing it by inches. Nate closed his eyes in fear of crashing—missing something by inches in space was essentially throwing a dart blindfolded with your feet and hitting a bull’s-eye.

  Astraos got up after the move and whispered in Macellus’s ear, “A story.”

  “The bet is a story. . .?” Macellus looked back and grinned at Astraos.

  Kat screamed, “Eyes, Macellus. Eyes.”

  “I got it. I got it.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course.”

  Nate asked, “A story about what?”

  Astraos supplied, “Your past.”

  Kat came around to the idea; the ship being in peril was a common occurrence but a story from Nate. . . that was worth a mountain in credits. “That does sound good.”

  Nate scoffed. “No rest. Not even when we’re being shot at and navigating a maze of death. And what do I get?”

  Macellus said, “My promise to never attempt this again.”

  “This? But we. . . Ah—”

  “Here we go.”

  Macellus pulled up and flew through the line of J-Wing Fighters, ducking under meteorites and dodging to the left and then the right. He stalled out, then accelerated the ship back towards the belt. Spotting a big asteroid, he pulled up a mere fifty feet away from impact, letting a few fighters crash into it.

  They used the rock as a shield. Macellus asked, “Mariah, what do you need?”

  For you not to risk all our lives with uncalculated stunts.

  Lauren remained speechless in her seat. The same unsettling questions remained: Where and what the hell have I been brought to? And how is this better than being on Earth? She made eye contact with Astraos, ire flush in her eyes. He would know a woman’s scorn soon.

  “Mariah, this is no time for hysterics.”

  “Mariah, this is the captain.”

  I know it is you speaking. You don’t have to announce it every time.

  “Mariah!”

  Yes?

  “What do you need to warp and not be trailed?”

  We need to get fifty-one-thousand miles further from the asteroid belt. We are currently no longer locked on.

  Lauren came to the realization that the ship was speaking to them like a member of their crew, not just a spaceship. Never thought I’d use ‘just’ to describe any spaceship. Never thought. . . She licked her lips. Wow. The galaxy was filled with wonders, and it was hard, even in danger, not to be fascinated by this flying piece of wonderland.

  “That’s your que, Macellus.”

  “One problem, captain. We got a few boogies sitting on us.”

  “Pilox and Astraos get to the controls and be ready to blast through.”

  Macellus said, “We plowing through, captain?”

 
; “They’ll never expect it.”

  Astraos hit the button next to his console which lowered a helmet with glasses that projected a view of the ship from the top and brought up two joysticks, to the left and right, respectively. Pilox’s console controlled the bottom. One joystick was for rotating the camera display tied to the glasses and the other was for the gun. The guns were located at the middle of the ship, top and bottom, to give the most optimal firing range and view.

  “I love this, makes me feel like I’m playing a video game.”

  “Game Over is a bit more meaningful here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Astraos saluted the wall in front of him which made Lauren and Kat both cut off a short laugh. Kat looked over at her with a warm glow. “My apologies, I am K’anta, an ezon. They call me Kat. This must be all be very—”

  “Astraos, ready?”

  “Aye.”

  “Pilox, ready?”

  “A cheshir is always ready for the coming battle.”

  “Punch it, Macellus.”

  Macellus guided the ship out of the asteroid and headed straight for the remaining fighters.

  Boom.

  One fighter down. Boom. Another. And another. Astraos and Pilox made quick work of the unsuspecting J-Wing Fighters.

  “Wooohoo,” Astraos said disengaging the helmet.

  We are approaching the desired distance. Where are we headed, captain?

  “The Zealot System.”

  Astraos snapped his head and cringed. “Him?”

  “Yeah, him, he pays well.”

  “For oil?”

  “He is legitimizing the business.”

  “That maggot is a snake, a ruthless terrible fuck. He will make sure we’re dead before you get a dime.”

  Macellus said, “I still don’t like dealing with him.”

  “Get over it. We need food and money. . . We have this conversation every time we need to meet up with some criminal—”

  Ready for warp, captain.

  Nate went over the controls and hit the small white button he labeled, ‘warp.’

  “Good bye, Earth.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  Location: The Zealot System.

  “How’s Mariah?”

  “I’m on it, Nate.” Kat smirked, knowing the wager won. “Zero holes.”

  “Zero holes?”

  “All air pressure levels are at pre-engagement levels.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t be. . . Kat, check again.”

  Captain, I would’ve noticed a hole inside of me.

  “What if one of your sensors are off?”

  I would notice a fluctuation in one of the many other sensors onboard. This ship is lined with air pressure sensory because of how fragile all species seem to be. I would also notice a sensor being offline.

  “You may praise me now, captain.”

  “Save it, Macellus.”

  “I believe it’s story time.”

  “All right. . .”

  “Story time must wait.”

  “What’s that, Pilox?”

  “It must wait, master. My honor comes first.” Pilox rolled his shoulders, moving his head side-to-side. Astraos cracked his neck and calmly breathed out. He was ready. Lauren gave him a quizzical nod, which he returned with what he thought to be a flirtatious smile, an eyebrow one way and a curled lip on the other side of his face. It came off as creepy.

  She noticed that Pilox had stripes all across his face. His skin was the same bronze and his eyes the same amethyst as Astraos’s. He had fire red hair and was otherworldly tall like a basketball player. My neck hurts from craning to see his face.

  “Ah hell, Pilox. Astraos is practically a part of this crew.”

  “Astraos, you will do me honor.”

  “Pilox. . .?”

  Pilox roared, grabbed the spear off his back and activated the blue energy field which wrapped around it. This particular spear was one of the legendary weapons of the cheshirs and found by him during his exile. A story for another time. . .

  Astraos grinned and tapped Laverne and Shirley.

  Pilox screamed and came down with his spear, the tip barely missed Astraos’s forehead. Astraos blocked the attack with both blades and used the momentum to let the spear carry through until he was kneeling on the floor. Then using that force, he launched the spear up, twirling his blades and driving the spear to the left then cutting down. This left Pilox with no way to counterattack without leaving himself open for one.

  Astraos hit down on the spear again, sending a shockwave up to Pilox that he defied through gritted teeth. He took the opportunity to do a quick spin with both feet moving forward, closing the distance between him and Pilox. Without distance, the spear is rendered useless and the bridge’s confined space did not help Pilox; consequently, Pilox ended up with a blade close to his throat. He dropped his spear.

  “Prince Astraos, you demonstrate your honor once again.”

  “Will you leave the challenge open?”

  “The challenge is always open, Pilox.” This was the cheshirs way of being friends. He would never close off the challenge and exert dominance over him. Pilox would continue to duel him, but if he ever was about to win, he would lose. That was how he would show he valued their friendship; however, he has yet to have the chance. Astraos always won handedly.

  Astraos disengaged and put his weapons on his back. Pilox grabbed his spear and did the same.

  Nate approached them. “You guys nearly removed all of our heads from our bodies.”

  Kat and Lauren stood next to Macellus fear-stricken and immoveable—as if they had seen the grim reaper’s scythe. The spear’s tip came an inch away from Kat’s nose, and Shirley almost sliced Lauren’s throat. Macellus laughed in his seat, navigating through the edge of the solar system. He found that laughing inappropriately eased his anxieties.

  “I am sorry, master. It is the right of every cheshir who has claimed a hakliar kill to challenge a cheshir who shares the same distinction and has not taken the throne.”

  “You keep this open, Astraos?”

  “I have to.”

  “You can’t shake hands and say, ‘how you been buddy?’”

  “Such is not our way, master. You would shame me to ask him to close it.”

  “Shame him. . .?”

  Astraos nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Who gives a damn about shaming when you’re dead?”

  Astraos tapped Nate’s shoulder and sighed. “You definitely don’t want a shamed cheshir on your hands.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “We’re proud, need I remind you? A cheshir who is shamed has no will to live, no desire to. You’d have a ticking time bomb running around here. He may starve himself to death, or in battle may purposely let himself die if the opponent is strong or numerous enough. Or. . . He goes on a rampage, killing everyone in sight.”

  Nate put his middle fingers to each of his temples, attempting to pierce his brain and eradicate the continual headache his crew provided. “Ahhhh. . .” He went over to a seat, pulled it out and sat down. “So how do we move forward?”

  “He will continue to challenge me every time I step aboard. You should have him meet me in the bay.”

  “Why didn’t you have him meet you in the bay?”

  Astraos shrugged. “No one said anything about it before.”

  Nate swiveled his chair and hit his hand on his forehead, sighing and repeating the sentence. “No one said anything about it before. . .?”

  “Captain.”

  “Yes, Macellus?”

  “Everything seems settled. I’d like my story now.”

  “I’d like to know how we got out of there with no shields and no holes in Mariah.”

  Macellus grinned and raised his forehead in the usual way most species raise their eyebrows. “You shame me, captain.”

  “Oh hell. . .”

  Kat said, “We should agree on what story we would like to hear.”

  Astr
aos said, “That sounds good.”

  Nate darted his hand through his hair and leaned back on the chair. The old cunning gambler. “Macellus never specified a particular story.”

  Kat tilted her head to the side. “Oh, come on, Nate.”

  Macellus scoffed. “I’d play it the same, Kat. Fine. Your pick, captain.”

  Nate thought about this for a moment. He was not in the business of revealing his personal story, but he had his own moral code. A bet was a bet and Macellus had won. He wouldn’t be a sore loser and not give them a snippet of a past he chose to forget on most days—when he could, if he could, when the demons ran small and they allowed him to.

  “Yeah. All right.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  I gasped for air, awoken abruptly from my cryostasis chamber.

  The bridge was on critical alert, a screeching siren wailed through the ship and oscillating flashes impaired my vision.

  The door opened and I hit the floor, clutching at my heart. I cried out to cold steel, groaning and pounding at my chest as saliva ran down my mouth and smeared the steel grates.

  We hadn’t perfected the technology that goes with freezing a person for extended periods of time. In fact, the cryostasis chambers we inhabited were designed to keep us ‘preserved’ for a thousand years. After that, it was anyone’s guess what would happen. The ship was designed to last ‘forever’ but I found that to not be the case as well. Out of the hundred crew members that had disembarked with me, only I remained.

  I ran to the chamber holding Lieutenant Vessila. I pounded at it. “No. . . No. No!” But I knew the solemn truth as I collapsed in the midst of chaos, tears running down my face making their inevitable approach to the belly of the ship; she had been dead a long, long time—the smell of rotten things was abundant in that chamber. I mourned them all that day and remembered my lieutenant and all the crew so that they could live on through me.

  I hit the button for the door and collapsed outside of it, gasping for air.

  “Why did I survive?” I screamed at the ship.

  Calculating. . .