MATCH CITY

by Megan Kreuger

  “Let the game begin!” A deep buzzing noise begins as the gravity is adjusted inside the arena. The players appear superhuman, catapulting spontaneously through the air. The ball flies hard to a receiver, protected from the radiant cylinder by his gloves. It ignites whenever released in air, cooling when touched. The reapers stagger across the field however they want, limited by few regulations. The men hit, shove, and tackle each other in fits of fury. Fire bursts forth every now and then from their form-fitting uniforms when they take a hit, purely for entertainment, the suits completely flame retardant.

  Apollo commands attention from the entire arena. Who wouldn’t be interested? They leap and soar through the arena; the symphony narrates the plays with motivational music. The crowd chants familiar lines.

  “The reaper will come for you.

  He’ll come for you.

  He’ll come for you.

  Your time is done.

  Imperium.

  Imperium.”

  Apollo runs the flickering ball, charging and smashing unrelentingly through some befuddled players, caught off-guard. An opposing player tries to punch Apollo, but he swoops low, then explodes back to elbow the guy in the face. He bounds high, his body catapults through the flaming goal.

  “Goal!” roars the announcer. It’s replayed again and again on our viewing screens in slow motion. The boom of the base grows garish, almost obnoxious. The choir of voices releases another anthem; the crowd almost passes out from excitement.

  I love this game.

  5

  “So what did you think, Freya? Was it as good as you remember?” Phoenix asks when the game ends, Imperium won as expected. “Better,” I say. I see a friend.

  “Callisto,” I say, waving. She turns, yanking the date on her arm forward with her. “Hey, that was amazing wasn’t it?” she says through an excited smile.

  We all feel invigorated, as if we participated somehow. “Imperium is undefeated this season with Apollo as reaper,” she adds. “Nice. I need to get out more,” I reply with a laugh. Callisto laughs, and mouths “he’s hot” and points to Phoenix when his back is turned. “I’ll see you later,” she says, as he turns around again.

  “So do you want to go to the real party?” Phoenix quips. “What’s the real party?” “Oh, you know… the after party.” He points to the tower, building 120. “You can see everything from up there. There’s a club inside.” “I’ve heard, but haven’t been yet.” “You’re going to love it.” He motions for me to step ahead of him.

  We walk to the tower with a few people. A sleek elevator takes us up a seemingly never-ending climb. The glass walls allow a view of the night, mostly fog and darkness. Five stories, ten stories, twenty stories, until I can actually see the moon, higher and higher, unfolding the tops of buildings, “This is great,” I say. “I’m glad you like it.” My stomach flips from the allure of his face, the ambience of the evening…. and his eyes. The setting perfectly orchestrated for couples to make a connection.

  “This way,” he says as we walk through a dark hallway, so grim and narrow I start feeling claustrophobic with all these people squeezed in like sardines. Automatic double doors lift at the end of the blackness, colors and music emanating from inside.

  People are applauding when we step through the doors. The commotion is for Apollo and Roman. They are arriving and taking a seat together in a large booth that extends along one wall almost entirely. Apollo is grinning. A woman whispers into his ear as he nods in approval to her secret. He looks up as the greeter takes our coats.

  I pretend I don’t notice him. A few Pax officers surround the room to monitor the couples. We are allowed to touch here with chaperones, even without a proclaimed engagement. Otherwise, dancing would be banned completely.

  Apollo’s intrigued, watching me as Phoenix grabs my hand in his, almost possessively. Maybe Phoenix is feeling insecure. I don’t want him to feel that way, “Do you want to dance?” I say. His piercing eyes light with surprise, “Absolutely.”

  Phoenix nods “hello” to Apollo before he wraps his arms around my waist. I slip an arm around his neck, moving my hips to the rhythm. I don’t mind being close to Phoenix, his chest against my back now. He lifts one of my arms above our heads. Lowering it, he spins me softly. I laugh, a real laugh, the kind that comes from not thinking about anything else but the moment.

  During a slow song, I accidently make eye contact with Apollo again. His eyes glimmer with enjoyment as he gazes up at me through his perfectly arched-eyebrow. The scar gives him his natural frightening allure.

  He looks like a king with his powerful shoulders alert and arms spread across the booth, his chin tilted, gazing at his surrounding from under his dark lashes. He stands up with a woman wearing black, and I must admit they look good together, a lanky swan with a valorous beast. She wraps her slinky arm around his strong neck and I turn my attention to another wall, mirrored and reflecting a couple that looks phenomenal. It’s us, Phoenix and me.

  Phoenix is the picture-perfect height and size for me. Holding my silhouette, a shapely, blazing distraction amongst the tepid room, gently. Not lanky at all, but curvy with muscle definition from training. This gives me some sort of weird satisfaction. Stop caring, I tell myself.

  After dancing and losing track of time, Phoenix silently takes my hand, and after whispering in my ear, “drink?” he leads me to a stool. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” I say, sweating profusely now. “Me, too, I’m glad I asked you,” he grins. “Me, too” I tell the truth.

  “So I wanted to ask you something,” he leans against the counter. “Okay,” I say between sips of my water.

  “Would you mind going to the Scanner with me sometime this week? I know this is really fast, but I feel like it’s better to get it out of the way, you know, before we get—before I get—eh,” he smiles. Beautiful, is all I can think. “Before we become too invested,” he manages at last. I swipe at one of the strands of my hair that has fallen loose.

  “Sure. It’s no big deal” I assert. He looks puzzled. “What I mean is…I also think it’s foolish to get involved if we aren’t genetically compatible,” I say and he relaxes. “I can go tomorrow after working with my new trainer.” He looks tense again and I wonder why.

  He seems very careful, giving me his undivided attention all evening, afraid to let me out of his sight. He leaves briefly to say hello to Apollo and a group of their friends, but returns in a few minutes and we talk about his family. His sister works with him in technological advancement. I mention my brother, but leave out the recent news.

  The skytrain reaches my building, jarring forward softly before coming to a screaming halt at the platform. Phoenix stands and makes his way to the exit ahead of me, his hand careful not to touch mine. “Are you allowed to get off with me”— “We could be engaged. I’ll catch the next Skytrain in 15 minutes.” He steps out onto the icy terrace as I trail behind him, unsure if I want to chance getting called before the Council.

  The train pulls away, leaving us completely alone, the night air swirls and blows vehemently outside the enclosure that surrounds the terrace. Our bodies are safe from the raging winds where we stand inside the entryway, but I lead him around our terrace corner, to a space safe from watchful eyes.

  He removes his glove slowly and takes my face in his hand, startling me. He already looks fully committed; his eyes reveal a depth of feelings—feelings of admiration, but my stomach sends clear signals that I’m not anywhere near his level of devotion. He leans in to kiss me, and I pull back before he reaches my lips, the perceived rejection forcing him to pause. He bites his bottom lip with a carnal display of struggle. Taking my face with both hands, he leans back to study my eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to try that since I met you,” he sighs. “I just think we should wait,” I reply, trying to sound confident and not sheepish. “You’re right,” he says reluctantly. “I just feel like I don’t need a science scanner to know that you’re right
for me,” he says softly. I don’t respond.

  “I don’t understand why a lot of things are the way they are,” he continues. “But can you do me a favor?” he asks, catching me off guard, “A favor? Um— I guess that depends on what it is” I manage to say.

  He’s hesitant for a moment before asking, “Can you sort of— I mean…avoid Apollo?” What? I’m shocked. Why would he say that? “When would I be near Apollo? I’ve never even formally met him,” my voice almost angry. “I’m not saying—well, I know that he got selected to be your trainer.”

  Silence, I’m stunned.

  “Wait, Apollo is my trainer? You saw that? How would you see that?” His expression akin to an animal before it’s swallowed by a predator, “I’m on the mainframe all day,” he explains, “I don’t assign but can see the assignments.”

  I take a moment to process this. With little clue as to how to continue, I manage to form a sentence. “Are you— supposed to read them?” I ask slowly. He shrugs. “I mean, I can access anything on the servers that I want, and I was doing Apollo a favor. He wanted to see who he was working with this year, and I saw he was selected for you based on your perfection, so I told him. It’s really not a big deal.”

  He smirks, trying to shrug off my accusatory stare. “I always pull information for him.” More silence. “And look—I want to pass the scanner with you. I’m not interested in anyone else. And I know Apollo—I think he might be interested in you, too.”

  I feel bombarded with information and confused, “Wait, I thought you said he was like a brother to you.” “He is,” he seems to think deeply for a moment. “I know he likes challenges, and you didn’t talk to him or introduce yourself at the gathering. I mean you are unbelievably beautiful,” he states as fact.

  “I know how he is. You’re intriguing…to everyone.” He looks thoughtful again, “Just proceed with caution. I’ve seen him couple with women and never end up taking them to the scanner. I don’t want anything to ruin this.”

  It isn’t a secret that Apollo couples constantly but never goes to the scanner. Phoenix stands tall, completely sure of himself and what he’s just requested.

  The silence drags on, again.

  Before the stillness finally drowns me, he cuts in at last. “I would at least like to see our compatibility score,” he lets out a frustrated breath, visible with an icy cloud of crystal vapor. I shiver at the visual reminder of the temperature and try to respond honestly.

  “This is my first gathering, and I’d really like to be able to say that I’ve met my match and have all this be that simple. But the truth is, I can’t commit to anything yet.” I try to ignore the sorrow in his expression.

  He swallows and looks down before his eyes finally reconnect with mine, my stomach flutters with a whirlwind of emotion I wasn’t expecting. He is a beautiful man, sincerity radiates from his eyes.

  I believe there’s something that happens when looking into the eyes of someone who cares deeply for you, regardless if one can return the magnitude of their want. The carnal desire is invigorating, the yearning stirring the soul. My stomach is fighting to float away.

  “I’m scared of caring about you and then failing, so I’m not going to get too attached right now.” I say trying to convince myself more than him.

  With that, he manages to smile. We hear the next Skytrain from behind the worn building. “That’s me,” he says. He puts his hands into his pockets and sighs. I lean up and kiss his cheek quickly; trying to convey the thoughts I was having without leaving rationality behind in recklessness. He bites his lip softly and smiles, his striking dimple digging again at the edge of his grin.

  “So tomorrow then?”’ he asks. “Tomorrow,” I say. He steps onto the Skytrain, his broad back and muscular frame differing from the other passengers. I shiver and turn away from the platform, scan my hand on the lock to home and step through the doors as they lift.

  6

  My wrist buzzes, an alarm to wake up. I open my eyes cumbersomely, but I remember that today I train with Apollo. Well, I’m not supposed to know, so I try to go about my morning routine the same as any other day.

  Father is already eating breakfast when I emerge from my quarters. “Morning,” he says. “I thought you were doing some strength training and going to the range?” he questions.

  “I am. I’ve just been thinking that the way we present ourselves says a lot about how seriously we take our calling. I would like to think Saros expects the best from us, so I took a little extra time today.”

  His eyes almost flicker with something, humor? Then he says, “Well you look like you take your job very seriously, but some of the Pax officers might say something about your hair not being tight enough for training.”

  I walk backwards and glance sideways into an oblong mirror in our hallway. Tightening my ponytail, I say “I think it will stay. No endurance…just strength today. But I’m going to go, so I don’t miss the Sky.”

  I step towards the front doors. “See you tonight,” he says and almost smiles. He’s not stupid. I’m wearing a lot of makeup. I almost burst out laughing to myself as I step onto the terrace. Uh, why did I get so dressed up?

  I feel so nervous I almost feel nauseous. Why? What am I so worried about? I hate that I’ve built Apollo up in my mind so much that it’s like he’s not a human-being. I know it’s common for women in our City to want him, but it annoys me that I’m continuing to be one of them. I board the Sky train.

  I miss Maryn. I’m hoping everything will be sorted out, and he’ll show up randomly. Maybe he just got lost?

  Trying my best not to think about him, I review some of my coursework. Queasiness is destroying my insides. I shouldn’t be this nervous to work with Apollo. But he is Apollo Ailmar, literally the biggest celebrity in Ignis Messorem history. Freya! Stop caring. I really like Phoenix, anyway. I swallow hard as the Sky train skids to a halt along the icy track, building 113.

  Breathing out exaggeratedly, I make my way to the line of people waiting to enter the derivative building. Those entering the oversized doors flock their separate ways, as I stride confidently towards the gym. I’ve been here a million times before, the scene trite and yet my heart is pounding furiously. My locker reads my wrist, and I secure my belongings before rounding the corner to the weight room.

  He’s so easy to spot with his brawny back to me, like a deity among peasants, every pair of eyes aware of his existence. Draped in a tight black shirt with a small Imperium logo on the sleeve and the City flag on the other, he’s casually conversing with a few new Pax officers, demonstrating different exercises to help strengthen triceps using free weights. A surge of confidence flows through me.

  My brother has been helping me train since I was seventeen; I’m in my element. I climb on a treadmill for a warmup and glance down at my glowing wrist, my tracker feeds me my morning information. Apollo’s name is gleaming clearly across my forearm:

  Ursa Select: Freya Skarsgard

  Trainer: Apollo Ailmar.

  Good. At least I can stop pretending I don’t know. I unclip the small earbud mechanism from my wrist, place it in my ear and select the music I want to listen to, boosting the base. The City’s musicians blare in my ear—Sound Throne—and I start moving, leaving my right ear empty to listen for footsteps.

  It doesn’t help though because within minutes a dark figure materializes without a sound. I glance over as if to say ‘Can I help you?’ in time to see Apollo pull his large frame up onto the side of the treadmill next to me, his body sideways on the machine so he can get a good look at me from my level.

  “Freya,” he says. I look over, and he smiles slowly… with the sexiest smile I’ve ever seen in my life. His eyes say, ‘we meet at last.’ His voice is deep, piercing me to the bones. “That’s me,” I say kindly, pulling the earbud out and returning it to my wrist. “Ursa Select, Freya Skarsgard?” he asks rhetorically without breaking his gaze.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t aware that you were training Ursa?�
�� I say and pause. “Were you Ursa prior— or—” I mumble, pretending I don’t know anything about him. He interrupts, “I am Ursa.”

  He smirks, obviously not buying it, and releases his grip on the rails of the treadmill. His biceps bulge as he drops his massive body to the floor. “We’re doing legs today,” he says nonchalantly, “Squat rack. Let’s go.”

  I follow him to the rack where he adjusts the weights on either side for me and nods in encouragement to begin. There is so much I want to ask him. I’ve always wanted to pick his brain, but I remain quiet, focusing on pushing the weight through my heels.

  “So it’s obvious that you train regularly, were you encouraged to do that on your own?” he asks, standing behind me motionless. His robust arms hang at his sides with his hands held together at his waist.

  His blue eyes gaze at me through the mirror. He looks like a warrior, but I guess technically he is…Ursa, the highest combatant team in the City. I’m Ursa, too. For the first time, I really let it sink in.

  “My brother encouraged me to train early. I want to be just like him,” I say honestly, but my voice cracks in grief. He bites on the inside of his lower lip and an expression of understanding flashes across his face.

  “I knew…I know your brother. We are really good friends,” he says with a vague expression. “Yeah, he never told me that he knew you,” which is weird because Maryn knew I would find that information important.

  “Yeah, there’s a lot we don’t talk about. You’ll have a class followed by a brief tomorrow. They want me to prepare you for watch this weekend,” he says. “But my feed told me that I had three months of training to complete before I was allowed outside the City?” I ask in confusion. This makes no sense.