The Martian King: The Slave Planet II

by Seven Steps

  Bruno tossed the ball back to Kiln before being dragged down by a yellow-skirted Dominator.

  Either Bo or Jack, Kiln couldn’t tell who, gained ground and held his hand up for the ball.

  Kiln tossed it to him.

  The second twin became his brother’s guard, slamming an arm into an approaching player’s throat. The two ran together down the field, almost making it to the end before a Dominator pushed his gloves into the guarding twin’s back. The twin went down in convulsions as the electricity from the gloves raced through him.

  The whistle blew.

  “Jack!” Bo called, kneeling down next to his brother.

  Jack continued to shake and twist as he was loaded onto a white stretcher and taken off the field to a wave of applause.

  “That’s all right, Bo,” Kiln said, clapping the standing twin on the back. “You did good. You got us down here. You’ll see Jack in the locker room.” He turned Bo to him, looking deep in his weary eyes. “You did good, Bo.”

  Bo preened at the praise, before tossing the ball to the referee and jogging back to the pile.

  Teams were only allowed three uses of stun-gloves -stunners- for the entire game. The Dominators had two more to go. Once the gloves were activated, the wearer had only ten seconds to use them before they shut off again.

  Bruno, the official puller, positioned himself near Kiln’s feet again.

  The whistle blew, and Bruno yanked Kiln out of the pile while his four pile pushers pushed away the men who laid on top of him.

  Kiln stood, got his bearings.

  Bruno, Haki, and Bronson formed a semi circle around him, while Bo and Max -Jack’s replacement- went out in case a deep pass was thrown.

  Eli wheeled around the circle, running toward Kiln with a malicious grin on his face.

  Then, the monstrous man was on his back, as two of the pile pushers grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down.

  “Run!” they cried.

  Kiln sprinted forward and tossed the ball to Haki on his left.

  Haki caught the ball and ran toward the goal.

  A large player came from right field, aiming for Haki.

  “Watch out!” Kiln yelled.

  The man threw himself onto Haki, landing with all of his weight on top of him.

  Haki curled into fetal position, never letting go of the ball.

  Bronson ran to Haki, threw off the opposing player, grabbed the ball, and continued his run downfield.

  He passed the ball off to Max, a skinny redhead, too fast for his own good.

  Max made it three steps before being leveled by a yellow player on his left.

  The whistle blew. Three falls, and the play was over.

  The countdown click didn’t stop.

  They were only ten yards away.

  Thirty seconds left.

  Kiln ran forward, resuming his position at the bottom of the pile.

  “Do you feel me breathing down your neck, Praxis?” A gruff voice called.

  “I got your number, Prax!”

  “Not as good as you were, are you, Prax?”

  The whistle blew, and Kiln was almost immediately freed from the pile.

  With aching legs, he stood, then was off his feet, landing hard on his back courtesy of Eli.

  One of the pile pushers got the ball, then was tackled. Another pile pusher grabbed the ball, before being taken out by a yellow-skirted Dominator.

  The whistle blew. The play was over.

  Eight yards left.

  Fifteen seconds.

  “One more!” Bruno called. “One more run! We can get there, Praxis!”

  Kiln curled back over the ball at the bottom of the pile.

  The whistle blew.

  The pile was gone.

  Bruno pulled him backwards, out of harm’s way.

  Kiln sprinted forward, away from the safety of his team, and directly into a line of Dominators.

  They crouched, ready to steal the ball.

  Ten seconds.

  He left his feet, flying over the top of them.

  Then, suddenly, he was flying backwards, his back crashing to the ground as a Dominator came out of nowhere and tackled him mid air.

  The ball flew from his grip, picked up by a yellow skirt.

  And then, he was alone, his ears ringing, his head throbbing.

  He heard an explosion, cheering, then a whistle.

  The other team had made a goal just as the timer had gone off.

  A few moments later, someone reached a hand out to him. It was Bruno.

  “What was that, Prax?”

  Kiln shook his ringing head. “I was trying to go over their heads.”

  “I can see that. You’re too big to be a flyer. Leave that to the little guys. Run over them, and up the middle. That’s what you do. What’s up with you?”

  “I’m fine,” Kiln barked.

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Shut up, Bruno. Get off my back!”

  “Then do better. Get your team together, Prax! Get the ball over the goal!”

  Bruno jogged back to the team huddle, leaving Kiln to look into the disappointed eyes of the crowd.

  They’d come to see their King win. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he let them down.

  They were on the defense now, and he was determined to get the ball back.

  Eli laid over the ball, a layer of Destroyers laying over him, while a layer of Dominators stayed on the outside.

  Kiln and Bruno held back.

  “Light up,” Kiln said, moving his thumb back and forth electricity his gloves.

  Bruno did the same.

  He nodded to the other four men who waiting on the outside for the whistle to blow. One of the men was Bo.

  “Hey Bo!” He called.

  Bo looked down field at him.

  “Light them up for Jack!”

  Bo’s green eyes lit along with his gloves as the four of them took a defense stance.

  The whistle blew.

  Eli was pulled out of huddle, leaving him and his puller, a slightly shorter, but no less powerful man, to survey the grounds. It only took Eli a moment to find his path before jetting downfield.

  A moment too long.

  The four men rushed at Eli like lighting.

  Four Dominator pile pushers ran to protect their captain.

  Bo targeted the man who’d stunned his brother, slamming his gloves into his spine. The man went down shaking.

  Eli made it twenty yards before Kiln wrapped his arms around his waist and slammed him sideways, sending the ball flying. He’d hoped to stun him, but ten seconds had already passed.

  Next time, Eli.

  Eli’s puller picked up the ball, but only managed to gain a few feet before Bruno threw him to the ground.

  The ball bounced from the puller’s hand.

  Kiln disentangled himself from Eli, plucked the ball from the green turf, and raced down the field.

  First, Bo was by his side, then Max. Bruno and Haki joined them, forming a circle around their king.

  Then, there it was, the goal line.

  Kiln looked up at the countdown clock on the screen.

  Fifteen seconds.

  Then Bo was tossed away, followed by Max.

  Then Bruno was gone.

  Kiln left his feet, diving across the goal line.

  A whistle blew.

  He quickly backed away as the ball exploded into flames, heating his already sweat soaked face.

  The crowd cheered.

  The score was six to five, in favor of the Dominators.

  The Destroyers surrounded him, cheering on all sides.

  Kiln felt their energy, their loyalty. He sprouted wings, and joined in the celebration before running back to the pile.

  The whistle blew.

  The Dominators were on top of him, and then he was free.

  He immediately tossed the ball back to Bruno, who tossed it behind him to Haki. Haki tossed it back to Bo, who ran forw
ard as the Dominators formed a line, set on closing ranks and stopping the ball’s forward motion.

  Bo was not a power player, but Olgum was. Bo tossed the ball to Olgum.

  Six foot five and made of solid muscle, Kiln’s very first draft pick, a pile pusher, ran forward, dropped low and broke through the Dominators line. When he was free, he tossed the ball to the right, back to Kiln, who ran down field and dove over the goal.

  The score was ten to six.

  Kiln returned to the pile, pulled free, and again sent the ball Bruno’s way.

  Bruno raced ahead, plowing through anyone in his path. With thirty yards to go, a Dominator knocked the ball from his grip.

  Haki picked it up, and began to run the remaining thirty yards. He threw it to Bo.

  But no. A Dominator flew over the top of another player and tackled Bo from above. A second Dominator wheeled around, grabbed the ball, and raced it back.

  Explosion. Whistle. Goal.

  Another five points went to the Dominators. The score was now eleven to ten.

  The half was over and the team retreated to the locker room for a ten-minute break.

  “We are getting killed out there,” Haki said, smoothing his long, curly hair back up into a bun.

  “Murdered,” Bo said, sitting next to his brother. Jack had a pack of ice taped to his back. The twins had matching lean builds, wild brown hair, and green eyes. It was nearly impossible to tell one from the other.

  “We’re playing hard,” Jack said. “They’re just playing harder.”

  “No,” Kiln stood in front of them. “We’re not playing hard enough. Do you know when you’ve played hard enough?” His gaze touched every man in the room. “You know you’ve played your hardest when you win. We are going to go back out there, and we are going to win. You gun for Eli. Don’t let him get up from the pile, I don’t care what happens. Every man who misses his assignment will no longer step on my field. Make them remember, forever, the night they played the Destroyers. Are you with me? Are you with your king?”

  The men cheered, chanted, pumped their fist.

  By the time they came back on the field, the energy was electric. The crowed felt it too, absolutely losing their minds over their King and his team.

  The Dominators had possession of the ball. Eli laid at the bottom of the pile.

  The whistle blew.

  Eli was pulled from the pile. Kiln ran past Eli’s puller and slammed into him from behind, knocking the ball out of his hands. Bruno scooped it up and ran it in for a goal.

  The score was now eleven to fifteen.

  It was the Destroyer’s ball.

  Kiln returned to his place at the bottom of the pile.

  Bruno yanked him out again.

  A sea of black skirts rushed before him, clearing the way for their king all the way to the goal.

  Eleven points to twenty.

  The ball returned to the Dominators.

  Eli made a valiant effort, jumping up from the pile and running blindly down the field before getting his bearings.

  Big mistake.

  Kiln and Bruno attacked him, squishing him between their big bodies. At the last moment, Eli tossed the ball to his puller, who ran like the wind to the goal.

  Sixteen to twenty.

  True to his word, Kiln benched four members of his team, bringing in four new pile pushers. Men who were fresh, hungry. They guarded their King with zeal and courage.

  By the last play, the score was set at twenty-five to sixteen with one minute left on the clock.

  The Destroyers had the ball. Their only hope was to pull all four flags from Kiln’s belt and run the ball in for a goal.

  Kiln laid at the bottom of the pile.

  He heard the hum of electricity.

  The Dominators were getting desperate. They were going to use their electrified gloves.

  When the whistle blew, he scrambled backwards, searching for Bruno to hand the ball off to.

  His body trembled as the electric shock ran threw him, like a thousand bolts of lightning.

  No!

  Kiln fell to the floor, his body shaking uncontrollably.

  An explosion.

  A whistle.

  A cheer.

  What happened?

  His ears rung and he could feel his pulse racing.

  A hand went to his back. Someone called his name.

  His arms and legs felt like heavy iron.

  “Praxis, are you all right? We won, Prax! We won!”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a stretcher lay besides him.

  No. I am Praxis the Immortal.

  With all of the energy he possessed, he raised himself up on one arm.

  The crowd silenced.

  Then another arm.

  Finally, he stood, leaning heavily on Bruno.

  The world spun, his body hurt, his head throbbed, but he would not be kept down.

  Not today.

  The cheers blew him backwards, but he managed to stay on his feet as the crowd chanted his name.

  “Praxis!” Bruno cried. “The Immortal.”

  It was the name that Kiln had adopted as his own.

  The name that he’d branded himself with.

  Praxis the Immortal.

  CHAPTER 32

  A red light lit the room around Arees.

  She found herself in front of two doors she hasn’t noticed before in the darkness. The red light came from the left door.

  What does it mean?

  With no other option, she put her hand on the handle, pushed it down, and took a step into the well lit room.

  An entire team in black paneled skirts looked back at her.

  “Hello there,” said a monstrous bald man.

  Arees looked to her left. Then her right. Five more women stepped forward and into the room.

  The doors immediately swung shut behind them, their locks clicking.

  Her stomach dropped. She tried to be brave, tried to set her chin, tried to narrow her eyes.

  “You won’t touch me,” she growled.

  The monstrous man and several of his sweaty teammates in the black skirts snickered. Around her, the other five women were already being jumped on, and chased around the locker room.

  The monstrous man stepped forward.

  “You first, Bruno,” said an equally large man behind him. “After all, you are the MVP.”

  Bruno nodded. In one step, he closed his arms around Arees, pinning her to the wall.

  She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. Her arms and legs swung wildly trying to knock him off, to scratch, claw, and maim her way to freedom.

  “A fighter,” Bruno snickered. He grabbed her left hand, then the right, pinning them above her head with one of his meaty hands. “I like fighters.”

  His free hand roamed her body, and she threw up in her mouth. Her heart raced. Her temperature dropped. She felt her body shake beneath his touch.

  She closed her eyes and screamed.

  And then, all was silent.

  His hands were still upon her but there were no screams, no laughter, no sounds of revelry.

  She cracked open one eye, then the other.

  The room, and everything in it had turned to ice. Bruno’s startled eyes were frozen in place. His hand still pinned her to the wall, his other hand frozen on her hip.

  Her mind raced to figure out what had happened, and then she felt it. The power of her toma flowing through her.

  It had saved her.

  Flooded with relief, she pushed Bruno’s frozen corpse from her, cracking both of his hands at the wrist in the process. His bulk dropped to the locker room floor and shattered.

  She raked her eyes around the locker room, before spying the door and sprinting toward it.

  This was her chance.

  She had to break free.

  CHAPTER 33

  Kiln walked with a heavy heart through the dark courtyard.

  Yes, he had won the game. Yes, he was the King.

&nb
sp; But at what cost? Nadira was surely dead. His father and his mother were gone.

  Why celebrate when no one I love is here to see me?

  “Kiln!”

  That voice. He’d heard that voice before.

  “Kiln!”

  He turned around. There, running at full speed toward him, was Arees.

  His heart did a flip. “Arees? You’re alive?”

  She fell into his arms, sobbing hysterically.

  The vulnerability and fear on her face was unmistakable. He pulled her into a shadowy doorway.

  “Where have you been?”

  “In the prison,” she choked out between sobs. “Me and Lex and Nadira.”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “We thought you were dead, too.”

  “Where’s Lex?”

  “Still in the prison.”

  “Take me to it.”

  They raced through the courtyard, past the wall where his father was buried. They passed through the main square before they arrived at a large door.

  “Is this it?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. They’re down there.”

  “Wait here.”

  She nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  He then walked to the two guards stationed in front of the door.

  “King Praxis,” the men said with a bow.

  “I am here to see the prisoners,” he said.

  “Yes, my King,” the men replied, pulling the door open.

  Kiln tried not to run down the hallway, instead forcing his steps to be slow and even. A woman scurried to meet him. She stopped short in front of him with a bow.

  “King Praxis,” she said. “It is an honor.”

  “I am looking for some prisoners.”

  “Which ones, my king?”

  “A man with red hair.”

  “Right this way.”

  She rushed forward and, after a few short steps, she stopped in front of a cell where Lex sat with his head in his hands.

  “Bow before your King,” the woman demanded.

  Lex looked up, his red eyes meeting Kiln’s blue ones.

  There was a delight in them, and yet, a deep sorrow.

  “Let him out,” Kiln said. “He’s coming back with me.”

  “Yes, my king.”

  The woman snatched a key that hung from a chain around her neck and hurried to open Lex’s cage.

  When he stepped out of his cell, he took a knee before him.

  Kiln bit his inner cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.