by Adam Graham
Powerhouse coughed. “Well, I was talking about Superman and—”
“Yes, he’s fiction, but that is not within the realm of possibility. Life is a struggle for dominance, to prove you are the rightful superior being. A man who was the strongest and best of his world would not surrender his life and die to save lesser beings.”
Powerhouse glowered. “When I first read the story of Superman dying to defeat Doomsday, I didn’t know this, but it was inspired by a true story.”
“Impossible.”
Powerhouse swallowed. God help me not to mess this up. “My whole word was doomed. God, who made the world and had all the power, was great and holy, and none of us were. We’d be lost forever for all of our mistakes.”
The overseer smirked. “The highly evolved being who seeded your planet with life was disappointed with your defying the natural laws and thus couldn’t stand the sight of you.”
“Uh, something like that, but still God loved us and wanted to make it possible for us to be with God. He became one of us, Jesus Christ our Lord.”
“And then Jesus conquered you.”
Powerhouse shook his head. “No, the Lord died for us so that we could be forgiven and live forever.”
“That’s absurd! All decays, all dies. It is the universal law.”
“He’ll give us new bodies. I don’t know how, but we’ll live forever.”
Overseer laughed. “You expect us to believe this Jesus is more powerful than any being in the universe? He not only gave his life, he made it so you could evolve beyond even our mighty King Bel, just because he loves you.”
Powerhouse bit his lip. “Refuse to believe it if you like, but it is true. We don’t have to earn eternal life. It’s a gift to those who trust the Lord.”
“You can believe a mythical god will let you be lazy, but I will continue to faithfully follow King Bel’s path of evolution.”
“And you’ll die.” Powerhouse looked around. “Fellas, you’re all going to die pointless deaths in the arena for King Bel’s amusement unless someone stands up to him.”
The other members of the group stopped work.
Shorty frowned and stared off at the wall.
An electric shock pulsed through Powerhouse. The pain surged, more intense than ever. Powerhouse collapsed to the ground. “God, help me.”
The pain finally stopped.
Overseer sneered. “I believe we’ve heard enough of your stories. If you ever disdain King Bel again, you will die. Everyone else, return to your tasks.”
Dark clouds hung low as Naomi brought the minivan in for a landing in the vacant parking lot of the cemetery. She glanced at Carmella, who sat in the driver’s seat, and said, “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” Carmella got out of the car, walked around to Naomi’s side, and held out her hand.
Naomi got out of the car and took Carmella’s hand. Naomi was wearing all black while Carmella wore a Washington Monolith T-shirt. The two walked in silence through the cemetery. Naomi came to a stop in front of a grave. The name on the grave read, “Marcus Hamilton.”
Naomi swallowed. “Dad, I have to talk to you. Sadly, this is the only safe way I ever could. You always seemed to take joy in making me feel worthless, to ensure I knew I didn’t deserve respect because I was a girl. You were harsh and mean to me. You made fun of me because you thought it would correct behaviors you didn’t like. Instead, it made me fearful and insecure. You drove me away from God for fourteen years. It wasn’t right, Dad. It wasn’t right what you did to me.” Hot tears streamed down Naomi’s face. “All I wanted was for you to love me, Daddy. I tried so hard to get you to love me, but you wouldn’t. I wasn’t perfect, and you couldn’t stand it. I tried so hard to please you, but I was never good enough.”
Naomi bit her lip. Was that different than how she’d treated Dave? How would she react if Derrick or James didn’t go to college? Naomi wept. “My God, I’m just like you.”
“No, honey.” Carmella hugged her.
“I’m demanding. I put strings on my love. I’ve done it to Dave. In little ways, I’ve done it to the kids. Oh, God, help me.”
“He will.”
Naomi stared at the grave. “I’ve spent sixteen years living down your disapproval, aching from it. I’m letting it go, Daddy. You were never a happy person because you can’t be happy when you’re trying to run everyone else’s life. I’m done with your ways. I’m not letting you control my life anymore.”
Who are you kidding? You’ve always been this way. You’ll be like this until you die.
Naomi fell to her knees, weeping. “God, I can’t do this. I’m not sure you’ll help me, but I’m begging you, please.”
Carmella knelt beside her and wrapped her arms around Naomi.
The gathering clouds wept with her as the rain fell.
“God, change me!” She stared at the grave. “I don’t want my boys to end up like this.”
Powerhouse stood in his overseer’s cave. Overseer sneered and pointed at Shorty in the distance. “So, you believe that 203574 is your friend.”
Powerhouse nodded. “He’s my little buddy.”
“We shall see about that. Step behind that pillar in the corner.”
Powerhouse nodded and obeyed. “Hey, I can see your desk through this pillar. It’s one way. Do you need me to clean it?”
“No, I need to clean out your mind.”
“Are you sure? This could use Windex. Do you have any?” A shock went through Powerhouse and turned him into some sort of living statue.
“Do not fear. You only are frozen for a few moments. I don’t want you crying out. Now, I need to get your ‘friend’ in here.” Overseer left.
He returned a couple minutes later leading Shorty in.
Overseer stood behind his stone desk. “I wanted to clarify a few things with you. Firstly, I gave a strict order that my team members were not to cooperate with Powerhouse, and you did. Why?”
Shorty shrugged. “What you want me to do is never for my good. You have been trying to get me killed since I got too many points for your liking.”
“So you see Powerhouse as a way to protect yourself.”
“Do I really need to explain how alliances work?” Shorty cried out in pain as his body jolted.
Overseer said, “You will remember that I am the overseer.”
“For the time being. Unless you brought me here to do away with me.”
“No, I wanted to assure you that I’m scheduling your next battle in three days time. If you win this battle, you will earn double points. If you survive, you’ll have the right to challenge me for supremacy.”
“I look forward to it.” Shorty cracked his knuckles. “Anything else?”
Overseer sneered. “What will you do with Powerhouse if you defeat me and claim my position?”
Shorty narrowed his eyes. “It’ll depend on my orders from King Bel.”
“And if the orders are to eliminate him, what will you do?”
Shorty clenched his fists out in front of his body. “That’s an absurd question. Our alliance will be ended, and I will achieve my purpose and obey my King no matter who I have to kill.”
Shorty would kill me?
Overseer grunted. “I wanted to be sure you understood your purpose. I shall eliminate you, if we face each other in the arena, but I hate to think we might ever have an overseer who would let an affinity for a worker blind him.”
Shorty blinked. “I will survive through obedience to my king.”
“Good. You are dismissed.”
Shorty left the office.
Electricity sparked in Powerhouse’s chest. Which king did Shorty mean?
Overseer said, “You may now move. Come here.”
Powerhouse padded over.
Overseer pointed at him. “See? You have no friends. Only opponents. Do you understand me?”
“It’s part of this evil game that King Bel is having him play.”
“Don’t besmirch the
king’s good name. Remember what happened last time?” Overseer leered. “I have checked with my superior and have obtained approval. You need not kill the entire group.” Overseer pounded his fist into his hand. “Kill the short one, and you will go free.”
“No, that’s not right.”
Overseer smirked. “You’re scheduled to battle him in the arena. You’d be advised to kill him when his guard is down. There’s great risk in the arena. Either way, I’ll be rid of a pest.”
Chapter 25
Powerhouse v. Shorty
Powerhouse got up from his seat in the theater and shuffled along the wall to where Shorty was sitting tonight. Apparently, he’d also heard about their battle and hadn’t felt like sitting near an ally he’d been ordered to betray.
A hand touched Powerhouse’s shoulder. Overseer said in his ear, “What are you doing?”
Powerhouse said, “I’m going to take Shorty outside.”
“Splendid.” Overseer rubbed his hand together. “Let me help you.”
Shorty’s body convulsed in his chair.
“Poor fool.” Overseer grinned. “Unconscious and helpless.”
“Um, okay.” Hopefully, he could get Shorty to regain consciousness, or this little exercise would have been for nothing.
He picked Shorty up.
Overseer winked. “Take him to the infirmary at once.”
Powerhouse carried Shorty out and ran through the caverns. Powerhouse leapt across the twenty foot canyons that everyone else could only cross on the overseer’s platform. He made it back to the rock they usually slept on, laid down Shorty, and gently slapped him. “Tim.”
Shorty pulled a knife out of his belt and lunged at Powerhouse.
Powerhouse pushed Shorty back. “Easy, buddy.”
“That’s as bad as calling me Tim.” Shorty snarled. “You’re not from the Lord. You’re a deceiver just like all the other big cowards. You conspired with my enemy to kill me.”
“If I were going to kill you, I would have already snapped your neck. I wanted to show you something. Look around the cave.”
Shorty drew back and stared at the walls of the cave and at the prisms of light all over. “What is that?”
“It’s color.” Powerhouse pointed at strips on the wall. “Yellow, Red, Purple, Blue, Pink, Orange.”
He gasped. “Nothing down here is those colors.”
“I know, but I saw it the first night they gave out the narcotics.”
Shorty touched one of the colors on the ground. “This isn’t a vision.”
Powerhouse shook his head. “Every night they’re here, King Bel has you doing something else so you never see them. He only lets you have pleasures so that you can’t enjoy something greater.”
“Why would he do that?”
Powerhouse stared at the colors dancing on the walls. “Maybe it’s so you’d never question Bel’s insistence no one made this and that no one is more powerful than Bel.”
“Why are you showing me this?”‘
“Duh. I don’t want to fight you.”
“We have no choice. Powerhouse, I regret that I must kill you, but that’s all we can do.”
Powerhouse pointed at the colors at the wall. “Look, we can’t serve the Lord who made all this and also follow King Bel’s path of evolution, whatever that means. All you’re competing for is the right to be a lackey for King Bel and lose your eye. God has more for you than that.”
“Do you have another plan?”
“Leave here. The surface is livable. You’re a tough little guy. You could escape and find your own place where you could be safe and live in peace.”
“Are you coming with me?”
“I can’t do that, and I can’t explain why I can’t.”
“Ah, so then you would save your miserable life and avoid battle with me. You lied. There is nothing above here. This is all that there is.”
Powerhouse explained about the people who’d met him when he was unconscious.
“They say there’s a world up there? You believe people who torture us?”
“It beats believing the guy driving you to kill. Do you really want to live like this?”
Shorty frowned. “We have no choice.”
“Look, Tim, you’re so brave. Why don’t you go explore? Why don’t you take a chance?”
Shorty shook his head. “I’ve been destroying others all my life. You’re trying to tell me it’s all either a pointless waste of time or even offensive to the Lord. Well, I reject that.”
“But—”
“If it is, so be it.” Shorty stood and reached to jab Powerhouse’s chest. “I am the next stage of evolution. There is no life in this world beyond this cave. I will triumph, and you will be one more evolutionary failure that I destroy. Do you understand me?”
Powerhouse swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Now, I’m feeling quite well, and you’ve made me miss the cinema. I’ll do you a favor and not report your treasonous lies to the overseer, but that’ll be the last favor I do.” Shorty stormed off away from the colors on the wall.
Powerhouse’s shoulders heaved as his chest ached. “God, please change Shorty’s heart before it’s too late.”
Overseer’s flying platform flew past the arena they’d seen the fights at before. Slouching beside Shorty, Powerhouse glowered at Overseer. “I thought you were taking us to have a barbaric duel to the death.”
Overseer sneered. “This one will be held at a much different arena. One that will interest you and will accommodate the larger crowd.”
They stopped at an underground coliseum and flew inside.
Shorty said, “Impressive.”
“Not really. The Kingdome was better than this place.” Powerhouse got a small shock.
“Show respect, you large clod!” Overseer landed the platform to the left of the arena.
Overseer, Powerhouse, and the rest of the team got off the platform. Around a thousand spectators crowded the area. A tongue-walker threw his tongue at the wall beside Powerhouse and pulled himself past them.
“Many tongue-walkers will be here for this.” Overseer rubbed his hands together. “This shall be a great event.”
Powerhouse grimaced. They expected them to kill each other. “It’s an evil event.”
“Shut up. Come to the arena.” Overseer led Powerhouse and Shorty into the center of the coliseum, to a stone platform. Overseer pointed at it. “This will rise thirty feet in the air.”
Shorty frowned. “If I fell off, I wouldn’t survive.”
“I know.” Overseer laughed.
“What about him?” Shorty eyed Powerhouse’s jetpack. “Are you going to let him fight in that armor?”
Overseer tapped the jetpack. “You should take it off.”
Powerhouse shook his head. “I can’t without my superimagination, and that power doesn’t work, thanks to this collar.”
Overseer smirked at Shorty. “Then you have got a problem. To keep the fight interesting, I’ll see to it you get some armor, too, though I don’t know what we have in your size.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” Shorty’s shoulders slumped.
Overseer led Shorty away from the platform and left Powerhouse there.
Powerhouse sighed. He’d have tried to escape, if it wouldn’t get Shorty and everyone else on his team killed. “God, please help me, I don’t know what to do here. I don’t want to hurt Shorty. I know he’s just doing what he’s taught. Please show me what to do.”
His overseer returned carrying two spears. Behind him, Shorty wore a helmet that covered his eyes. Tin body armor covered the front of Shorty’s legs and arms.
A tongue-walker approached and spoke an alien language.
Overseer responded in that language.
Wait. Why wasn’t that translated? Did that mean . . .
The tongue-walker said to the slaves in English, “Enter the arena.”
Weird. How could the slaves be speaking his language? Powerhouse and Shorty entered
the center of the two-level arena.
The tongue-walker followed. Metal bars lowered down from the ceiling and surrounded the fighting area.
The tongue-walker spoke to the crowd in English. “In the name of the most blessed and most mighty King Bel, I greet you. Welcome to a match of strength where only the fit will live.”
The tongue-walker handed Powerhouse a spear. “Your opponent has chosen this as the weapon.”
Probably since, between them, only Shorty knew anything about spear fighting. Maybe some loophole would get him out of killing Shorty. He said to the departing tongue walker, “Aren’t you going to tell us the rules?”
Tongue-Walker waved his tongue in the air. “Fine. Stay alive. Kill your opponent. Those are the rules. I’ll depart the cage, the platform will be raised and the match will begin.” The bars divided. Tongue-Walker jogged out of the arena, and the platform rose to the top.
Powerhouse said, “Shorty, you don’t want to do this.”
“You won’t weaken my resolve with your lies.” Shorty charged towards Powerhouse with his spear.
Powerhouse dodged at superspeed and zipped to the other side of the platform.
Shorty sneered. “Stand and fight, coward.”
“That’s not required in the rules.” Powerhouse dashed at superspeed in a circle around Shorty.
Shorty thrust out his spear.
Powerhouse ran through it, shattering the end, leaving his friend with a jagged stick. He folded his arms. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Coward.”
“Have you been paying attention? I could snap you in two.”
Shorty charged forward with the jagged stick.
Powerhouse dodged and Shorty ran off the precipice.
“No!” Powerhouse sped over and caught Shorty’s stick
The crowd booed.
Powerhouse pulled his friend back up by the edge of the stick, ripped the stick from Shorty’s hands and threw it over the edge thirty feet below.
The crowd roared.
Powerhouse took his own spear and threw it over the side. “You’re not killing me, and I’m not killing you. I’m not playing this pagan little game.”