by Chad Leito
The gladiators were taking the sand.
3
The gladiators each walked out with two referees in togas flanking them.
Umu came from the left, his yellow wolf-eyes staring straight ahead beneath maps of pumping veins that covered his forehead. His scalp and chin were now cleanly shaved, making him look slightly more civilized; someone might mistake him for a normal citizen if they didn’t look into his eyes. Umu’s eyes conveyed intense concentration, and he walked robotically, without hardly any wasted movement. Jon Isaac came out of the right wall with the exact opposite demeanor as Umu. He was jumping, pounding his chest and yelling things at the crowd that Baggs couldn’t hear. He waved his arms and gave someone in the front row the finger.
They walked with the referees beside them until they stood ten feet apart. Both men wore the same thing—leather skirts and sandals. The skirts were belted below each man’s belly button and went down to the knees. Often times, gladiators wore different colors so that the audience could tell them apart. This wasn’t necessary for the fight between Umu and Jon Isaac. Jon Isaac’s skin was a dark brown—almost black—whereas Umu’s was a light olive color.
Instinctually, Baggs turned his head and looked at Tonya Wolf, who was sitting two seats to the left. Her eyes were wide and she licked her lips. Her piercings glinted in the afternoon sunlight.
She loves watching this, Baggs thought. He tried to remember exactly what she had said in her Outlive commercial, but couldn’t. It was something about how she enjoyed watching people die.
Baggs believed it, not only because Tonya Wolf was a convicted murderer, but also because of the way her eyes lit up when one of the gladiators died. She seemed to become more animated, more alive when people were dying. Baggs couldn’t help but wonder if this love of violence was caused by her genetics or if something had triggered it. Maybe if she hadn’t grown up in New Rome where the most popular thing on the tube is a death match she wouldn’t be this way.
Studies suggested that exposing children to violence such as that seen in Outlive and gladiator fights did not cause them to grow up as more violent people than they would have been otherwise. Baggs was skeptical of these results. He didn’t have to dig into the libraries too extensively to find that Emperor Daman had scientists on his payroll. Am I supposed to believe that it just so happens that Daman profits from the Colosseum’s success and that his scientists say it’s not causing harm?
In the middle of the sand, a referee stood between the two gladiators with his arms raised. He stood like that for a few seconds and Baggs leaned forward a bit. His handcuffs were still bothering him. They’ll be off soon enough and you’ll be down there with a sword in your hand, Baggs thought. He pushed the idea out of his mind and watched. The referee dropped his hands, signaling the beginning of the fight.
Weaponless, Jon Isaac and Umu circled each other. Baggs looked up at the HoloVision Box, which was displaying a huge hologram close-up of Umu’s face. Beads of sweat lined his brow. His jaw was clenched and tucked slightly toward his chest to make his neck harder to reach. His arms were tightly coiled beside his body; as they circled, only his legs moved. Jon Isaac, on the other hand, was moving a lot. He was swaying side to side with his fists in front of him. He bounced on the balls of his feet, readying himself for action.
Umu took two steps forward and then his head lunged forward and he barked like a dog. In spite of himself, Jon Isaac’s eyes opened wide. There was a close up of Isaac’s face on the HoloVision Box. His eyebrows were furrowed in uncertainty as he looked at the dog-man he was about to engage in combat.
Baggs appraised each fighter. Umu was heavier, but Jon Isaac had a much longer reach. He couldn’t decide who he thought would win. It’ll probably be Umu. Jon Isaac likes to act cocky, but he’s scared.
Isaac took a step forward, making it so that they were now almost arms-length away from each other. The crowd cheered and stomped their feet, demanding blood.
Umu charged.
The dog-man snarled as he ran at Jon Isaac. Jon Isaac was ready for this attack; he remained cool and threw a quick jab into Umu’s face. This didn’t slow Umu in the slightest, though. Instead of rolling with the blow, he ran into the fist and a spray of blood leaked out his nose as he continued his relentless charge.
He just broke his nose and it didn’t slow him down, Baggs thought.
Umu wrapped his thick arms around Jon Isaac and the two men struggled on their feet for a moment before Isaac was brought to the ground in a cloud of displaced sand. The referees circled in closer, ready to stop the fight if it got out of hand. In Ancient Rome, referees stopped gladiator fights before they led to death, if possible; the two gladiators then presented themselves before the emperor as victor and loser; the emperor then had a decision to make—thumbs up meant that the loser lived and thumbs down meant the loser died. In some battles, like the ones on the levitating platforms, this scenario was impossible to recreate. However, in most on-the-ground gladiator combats, the participants were brought before Emperor Daman so that he could decide whether or not to spare the loser.
He usually had him killed.
As Baggs watched the plot that was unfolding on the arena floor, his hand instinctually went to his mouth. Larry had stopped sobbing beside him, but still kept his head between his knees, looking at the floor.
So much for the Colosseum adding ‘other factors’ in the middle of this fight. It’s pretty much over.
Both men sounded like dogs now. Umu was atop Jon Isaac, growling and snarling. Umu had Isaac’s cheek clenched in his teeth and was snarling and shaking his head, trying to rip his opponent’s face off. Blood sprayed in his face and Umu’s broken nose was still leaking down onto Jon Isaac below him. Jon Isaac was whimpering and yelping as he struggled frantically to get Umu off of him. However, Umu was too strong. He had both of Isaac’s hands pinned to the ground as he tore at the man’s face with his teeth. Umu was trying to get to Isaac’s neck, but Isaac had his chin planted onto his chest, trying at all costs to conceal his airway and jugular.
Baggs glanced up at the HoloVision Box to see a close up of Umu’s teeth gaining purchase with Isaac’s ear. He clamped down hard, and then Umu yanked his head backwards; his neck strained with bulging, corded muscles. Umu’s head shook back and forth violently. Isaac’s ear stretched out an unbelievable amount before tearing from his body. Umu spat the ear out and then savagely bit at Isaac’s face again. Umu’s mouth was coated thickly in blood. Isaac yelped and struggled; Umu continued to snarl.
This probably isn’t how the emperor thought this fight would go on. He probably expected a long battle between two evenly matched competitors. This is simply a torture show.
Finally, the referees stepped in. Two grabbed Umu by the back of his arms and yanked him upward. Umu resisted for a moment, ripped another chunk out of Isaac’s mangled face, and then allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
Isaac was still on the floor, hands over his bloody face, screaming and crying.
He knows what’s coming, Baggs thought.
Umu lifted his hands to the crowd and smiled with a face covered in blood. The crowd screamed and cheered, showing their approval of the mutilation they had just witnessed.
Behind Umu, the referees were getting Jon Isaac to his knees. Isaac was compliant; when losers refuse to get on their knees and surrender to the sword, the emperor never showed mercy on them. Ever. At least this way there is a slim chance, Baggs thought. Even on his knees, the former basketball player was as tall as one of the referees.
Emperor Daman’s face came on the HoloVision Box and this time it took less than five seconds for the cheering crowd to go quiet. Baggs looked down at Jon Isaac; his white eyes were shifting back and forth in his bloodied head. His nose and right ear were missing. His eyebrows were drawn together and his arms were crossed, as though he was hugging himself. This looks like a different guy than the one that gave the crowd the finger a few minutes ago.
“Give
our victor a sword,” Daman’s voice boomed through the speakers. The APPLAUSE sign came up and the crowd let loose with a roar of excitement.
One of the referees pulled his robes aside to reveal a curved sword in a scabbard. He withdrew the weapon and handed it to Umu, handle first. Umu took it in his hands, gazing up at the crowd that was now shouting, “KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM,” in sharp unison. Umu lifted the blade up to Jon Isaac’s neck and ran it along his skin.
This will be his sixteenth person to kill, Baggs thought, watching.
A few rows down, one of the Outlive competitors on another team gagged and then vomited heavily onto the floor. Her teammates lifted their feet to avoid getting their shoes dirty.
Baggs could relate to the woman’s fear. After this, we’re going to be taken back to get dressed. It’ll be show time.
“KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM, KILL HIM,” the crowd continued to say.
The hologram showed Emperor Daman raising his hands to quiet the crowd. The arena went silent. Even though he was six rows up, he could hear Jon Isaac panting on the sand below.
The emperor raised his hand with his thumb outstretched, pointing horizontal. Jon Isaac stared up at the hologram, ragged breaths coming in and out of his chest. Time must be going so slow for him, Baggs thought. Baggs knew that some competitors had tried to run at this point, but they had been brought down by gunman placed around the arena.
Baggs heard a husky grunt and turned his head to see Tonya Wolf licking her lips and rubbing her palms on her knees as she watched. She squirmed in her seat. Baggs turned away, disgusted.
Umu pulled back the sword, getting ready to take Isaac’s head off.
Emperor Daman’s thumb wavered slightly and then he gave the thumbs up.
He lives, Baggs thought. Unbelievable. The emperor went against the crowd. But, as Baggs thought about it more, he supposed that it wasn’t too unbelievable. While it was true that the crowd would be slightly upset for not seeing Isaac’s head sliced off, Emperor Daman knew that Jon Isaac was one of the most popular gladiators he had. A gladiator like Jon Isaac sells tickets. The emperor doesn’t want to get rid of him just yet; he just had to pay Isaac’s family millions of dollars for the man; he’s an expensive commodity.
Jon Isaac slumped and collapsed into sobs onto the ground while Umu gave the sword back to the referee.
From the opposite side of the silent arena, a man yelled, “OH, COME ON!”
The hologram of Emperor Daman showed his eyebrows furrowing and then the emperor looked away from the camera. Baggs couldn’t see where Emperor Daman’s suite was from his own seat, but he guessed that the emperor was looking around to see who had shouted and broken the silence.
Baggs looked for the lawbreaker, too. He saw guards leading a drunken man down the steps; the man had a dark stain on the front of his shirt. He staggered and cursed as the guards forced him down the steps. “Get off a’ me, you pigs! GET OFF!”
The man was forced down to the lowest floor and then Baggs saw him being dragged through one of the lowest doors onto the sand by two guards. The man didn’t seem angry anymore, but was crying and protesting.
“Give Umu the sword,” the emperor said.
“NO! NO!” Came the lawbreaker’s protests.
Umu stepped forward gladly. The APPLAUSE sign went up and the audience went mad; they didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that someone who had just shared a seat with them was about to be killed.
As expected, the emperor gave the thumbs down this time. The audience cheered wildly and Umu hacked the citizen’s head off in one blow.
That was a good move from the emperor, Baggs thought. Now the crowd won’t remember this as a day when their leader denied them of blood.
The guard with the reflective sunglasses spoke up from behind them. “Get up, all Outlive participants need to stand. It’s time. We’re moving.”
Larry groaned from beside Baggs and reluctantly stood with the rest of the crowd.
4
The Outlive contestants were split up into their teams and led down dark underground corridors beneath the Colosseum. Rock music played from above during a short intermission from the fights and shook the walls and the floors. The music was occasionally interrupted by loud mechanical grating sounds that Baggs assumed meant that some obstacles were being set up for the Outlive competition. The configurations for the Outlive competitions tended to be more involved than those for gladiator fights. It wasn’t uncommon for elaborate sets to be built on which the gladiators would die.
As he walked, Baggs grew specifically nervous about the idea that the rules would be called out just before the competition began. What if I freeze up? What if Emperor Daman calls out the rules but I’m too scared to understand them?
Calm down, you’ll be fine, he told himself.
The seven Boxers were led into a large concrete room; the back wall was a garage door. In here, the mechanical sounds were even louder. Baggs stared at the metal door. One inch beyond that door is the sand. What the hell are they building out there?
All of the Boxers stripped down and were then adorned with their Outlive uniforms. Like the gladiators, they wore leather skirts that went down to just above their knees. One of the designers came by and cut Hailey Vixen’s skirt so that it showed more of her legs. “You’ve got beautiful legs, honey; we want to show them off,” he said to her. She didn’t seem to have heard him. She stared at the garage door in the back of the room, looking sick. The Boxers were each given red metal breastplates that held their emblem on them—a man with boxing gloves striking the air. The breastplates weighed approximately thirty pounds. They were then given helmets to put on that weighed roughly ten pounds. They were given spears, which were light, and shields made of dense metal that weighed down even Baggs’s huge arms. All of this armor seems burdensome. On top of all these things, the gladiators were given scabbards to be worn around their hips that held swords. Baggs picked up the sword and thought that the weapon was too heavy for some of the smaller contestants to use effectively. He swung it through the air; the light danced over the clean metal. It’s sharp. Designers came around, powdering the Boxers’ faces and giving them dabs of lipstick and eyeliner. “Remember!” one of them shouted, “when you walk out the garage door, look scared! If there is a camera flying near you and you think you’re going to die, look at it; there’s no better footage than of a person about to die!”
Unbelievable as it was, the designer wasn’t being sarcastic. He raised his eyebrows as he said these things; it was as though he were simply giving inexperienced actors some guidelines. It’s as though he doesn’t actually realize that we’re real humans and that some of us are really going to die out there! Does he think it’s just a show?
Baggs slumped down against the wall, next to Larry. His armor was heavy, making him want to sit down. He looked at his leather sandals with their thin soles and thought that if they had to run a lot it would aggravate his plantar fasciitis. I probably won’t notice it, though, he thought. I’ll be too wired to feel anything.
He closed his eyes. The noises from the crowd and the mechanical whining from outside the garage door were giving him a headache. His heart was racing fast and his breaths were coming in and out at a quick pace. He didn’t even try to calm himself down; he knew that it would be impossible as he sat so close to the garage door.
He picked up his left hand and looked at the protrusion of bone where his radius had broken. If I hadn’t have fallen…
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He had fallen, and if he didn’t concentrate on what he was about to do, he would never get to see his daughters and Tessa again. He allowed his mind one lapse into the sweet memories of his last night at home. He imagined Tessa’s naked body snuggled up to his. He imagined reading to Maggie and Olive, both of them lying with their heads on his shoulder. He imagined watching Olive’s stomach rise and fall beneath her pajamas as she breathed—her belly protruding from having eaten so much.<
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“What are you smiling about?” Larry asked Baggs, tearing him away from these pleasant memories. Larry didn’t look good. He had grown even paler and he was developing a rash on his neck. Larry saw Baggs looking at this; “I always get a rash when I’m really nervous.” He smiled wanly. “What were you smiling about?” he asked again.
“I was thinking about my daughters and my wife.”
Larry nodded a little frantically—his eyes were big and glistening again, as though he was on the verge of tears. “Do you know what Spinks got in trouble for?”
Baggs was taken aback for a moment. Larry’s question seemed to be completely random, and he hadn’t responded to what Baggs had said. He’s really scared, Baggs thought, and decided to let the conversation go wherever Larry wanted it to. “Software graffiti is what I read. Although I’m not exactly sure what that means.” Baggs stole a glance at Spinks. She was seated against the wall, hugging her knees with her eyes closed, letting the noise from outside wash over her. Her pink hair stuck out from under her golden helmet.
“I’ll tell you what it means,” Larry breathed. His eyes were wide, he looked crazy. He might be crazy. “It means that she tried to destroy this whole system. She tried to press the RESTART button on our whole society. If she had, brother, you and I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“What do you mean?”
Larry cackled, making Baggs feel uneasy again. The man was sweating profusely now. The mechanical noises from outside the garage door were a constant reminder that they were about to have to walk out onto the sand. And face what? Robots? Dogs? Maybe they’re filling the arena with water, like they sometimes do, and we’ll be atop wooden boats. They could fill the water with crocodiles, or sharks, or alligators, or piranhas. Baggs had heard of one Outlive contest where there were giant uncovered blenders whirring in circles around the Colosseum floor. The different teams pushed each other into these fast-moving, sharp blades. God, please don’t let it be that. Or maybe there will be furnaces for us to push our opponents into, or giant pits in the floor with spikes reaching up from the bottom to impale whoever falls within.