Arena 5
Page 24
“That was one image denouement you pulled off there at the final time increment, Marc Havak,” Artie said and squeezed my hand.
“What?” I asked her. Sometimes I had no clue what she was trying to say. “I think I got ‘last second’ but what the hell was the first one?”
“You know,” she tried to explain. Her face screwed up into the most adorable mask of concentration, “like in a race when they talk and show an image of the finish.”
“Oh,” I exclaimed, finally understanding. “Photo finish. Yeah, that one came down to the wire.”
“Why would wires have anything to do with this?” She asked innocently.
“God, I adore you, you know that?” I replied.
“I do, Marc Havak, I do,” she smiled a smile that could light up a thousand skylines at me.
“Havak,” Grizz yelled from the side of the pool, “what is this surprise you have for us? My curiosity is gnawing on my insides like a Fluvian Gnawing Thing.”
“Soon, Grizz, soon,” I shot back at my overly muscular, oiled, holographic trainer. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”
I paddled over to the side of the pool, pulled myself out, and drug a lounger over next to Grizz.
“What do you wish to know, Havak?” Grizz asked. He’d sucked down two of the Pina Coladas already, and I could tell he was a little buzzed. A few months ago Artemis had written a program that allowed the stored consciousness that was Grizz to enjoy a drink every now and again since he could no longer take pleasure in the corporeal world.
“What do you know about Tyche?” I asked as quietly as I could manage. Thankfully the splashing caused by Tempest and PoLarr’s raucous volleyball game covered us. I didn’t want Artemis hearing.
“Not much,” Grizz replied but I could sense that his guard had come up a little. “I will tell you, probably because I have imbibed too much binary spirits, that I do not, nor have I ever trusted him.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” I agreed. “There is something very off about the guy, or program, or whatever the fuck he is.”
“Indeed, Marc,” Grizz nodded. “From what I know he has been around as long as the games themselves. He is the only conduit anyone has to the Aetheron Oszusti, which means he wields great power. But I too have noticed that he is different. I have known many AI programs in my years. Been friends with several. He is… odd. Nothing I can put my finger on. To everyone he is the picture of poise and respectability and most of the champions adore him. Personally, he has always made my skin crawl.”
“Yeah,” I said and took another sip of my Corona, “it’s like he’s always wearing a mask? Right? Like, he puts forth this image but sometimes the image slips.”
“Yes!” Grizz bellowed then shushed himself. “That is a perfect description of him.”
“The other day when I had the interview with Trillium he shot me this glance, when no one else was looking, of course, that was pure murder,” I confided in my trainer. “Like, I haven’t had champions that wanted to kill me look at me with such utter rage.”
“It is funny that you mention this, Marc,” Grizz said and downed the last of his Pina Colada. As if by magic, another one appeared in his hand instantly. “I had a very similar experience with him days before I met my end in the arena. I have never ever in my entire existence, as a warrior and champion, seen a look of such unadulterated pure, vile, evil hatred. I thought it was my imagination because Tyche and I had become somewhat friendly during my time as champion. But now that you bring it up… yes, I know the look you are talking about.”
“I think we should be very careful, Grizz,” I whispered to him. “Something is rotten in Denmark.”
“I do not know where that is, but I think I can smell it from here,” Grizz nodded. “We shall indeed be careful.”
“Marc, we want our surprise, sugar,” Aurora pouted from the far side of the pool. She stood and languidly stretched out her entire body. The thoughts that raced through my head were decidedly pornographic.
“Okay, okay,” I acquiesced. I’d had Woodhouse set up this little surprise when we were all cleaning up back at the gym after the match. He’d secured our private use of the rooftop pool and gotten all the stuff I’d asked for ready. “Everyone refresh your drinks, grab a float and hop in the pool.”
I pulled another Corona from an ice chest and jumped into the pool, sending a big splash of water all over Artie.
“Havak,” she cried, “you poop noggin!”
I laughed and paddled us over to the side of the pool. I had everyone gather around so that we all had our floats connected to each other.
“Woodhouse!” I yelled to my cylindrical butler bot who was busy making drinks and cooking burgers at the cabana grill behind us. “Showtime.”
“Right away, sir,” Woodhouse replied in his wonderfully chipper, robotic, British accent.
A big movie screen emerged from the center of the pool and blocked out the twin moons. A big shade, like a clam shell, came over the entire top of the apartment building and made it look like dusk.
“This is going to be so awesome,” I giggled as the movie I had picked out began to play. The credits started to roll, and big white letters spelled out the word JAWS on the screen.
As I looked over at my motley little family, I thought about how much I used to hate uncertainty. I couldn't for the life of me imagine why. Now, I thrived on it.
End of book 5
End Notes
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Logan Jacobs