Arena 3

by Logan Jacobs

  “Oh, hey,” the POTUS said a bit surprised. “There you are.”

  “Mr. President,” Trillium said. Her voice practically dripped with false deference. “Thank you for joining me today.”

  “The pleasure is all yours,” he responded. Just by his body language, I could tell the POTUS was in a particularly jaunty mood. Which had me very worried all of a sudden. “I’m great for ratings. Just the best. Tremendous.”

  “Um, yes, I’m sure, Mr. President,” Trillium snickered. “Your last appearance with Champion Havak was in the top ten of our most watched shows.”

  “I’m sure it was number one,” he replied. “Whoever didn’t watch is a loser. Plain and simple.”

  “Interesting view, Mr. President,” Trillium said barely masking her sarcasm that the POTUS completely missed. “Why don’t we start today with how Champion Havak’s wins have helped your technologically retarded planet.”

  “Sure, sure, sure,” the POTUS said with a wave of his hand. “Well, with my assistance, of course, the cool stuff we’ve gotten from whoever the aliens are who run the games, by the way, they should contact me, I have some truly tremendous ideas for how to take the contest to new levels, fantastically tremendous ideas, really. It’s a fact. Anyway, with my backing, Earth now has flying cars. Which is great. Truly, truly great.”

  “Oh, I bet,” Trillium smiled like a cat about to eat a canary. “Our history books tell us how exciting that was in ancient times. I can only imagine how it must be to live through that. How about advances in say, medicine, or space exploration?”

  “Oh boy,” I uttered and had to resist the urge to cover my eyes with my hands.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the President said. His face made all kinds of strange, exaggerated movements, and I could tell he was truly excited. “Lots of medicine. Great medicine. The best medicine, really. You know, a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down. I said that. You can ask anyone. So, right, cancer is a thing of the past. Which is good for people who were weak enough to get cancer. Which they probably deserved, but it's okay. I helped them anyway. What was the other question?”

  “Space travel?” She said like a kindergarten teacher helping a slow kid.

  “Sure, yeah,” the POTUS waved his hands again, “that’s what I was talking about before you interrupted me. Shh. We got these new engines that apparently bend space and time because of something called, um, relativism. Which is great. But I don’t see us needing it much. Earth is the best planet. The greatest planet. Why would we need to go anywhere else?”

  “Well, Mr. President,” Trillium said like the witch who lured Hansel and Gretel. “Don’t you think Earth and its inhabitants would benefit from seeing the megaverse?”

  “Why?” He answered without hesitation. The President had good qualities, unfortunately, humility wasn’t one of them. “Earth is hands down the best. The megaverse should want to come to us. We have the best food, the best hot women, the best hotel casinos, and the best hot women. Did I mention hot women?”

  “Most certainly,” Trillium chimed in with a grin.

  “Compared to Earth, the rest of the megaverse is a total shithole,” he boasted. I gulped hard. “And I know Marc feels the same. I speak for him.”

  “Tell us about your great champion, Mr. President,” Trillium said in a sing-song voice that had me terrified.

  “Oh, he’s the best, truly the best,” the President puffed up his chest like a peacock. “Good, good, friend. We’re very close. In fact, he’s huge here on Earth. Not as huge as me, but close. Not too close. Actually, I’m way bigger but he’s still big. My sons run a new Marc Havak empire as it so happens. Toys, books, a video game, they’re actually developing a movie about him with Stephen Spielberg attached to direct. One of the Hemsworth’s is rumored for the role. I’m not sure which one. Chris, Damien, Rolf, I’m not sure.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should have been elated or depressed. On one hand, Spielberg was going to make a movie about me. On the other, there was no Hemsworth named Rolf. And I was pretty sure the President had just pissed off most of the known universe.

  “Oh, interesting for sure,” Trillium cajoled. “This has been a very enlightening interview Mr. President. Thank you very much.”

  “You are very welcome,” he said back. “I am a delight. Earth is the best. The rest is the worst. Thank you, good night.”

  And with that, his hologram disappeared, and the camera zoomed in close on Trillium's face. She still smiled, but it looked like she had just smelled something bad.

  “There you have it, megaverse,” she said with a Machiavellian glimmer in her eyes. “The leader of Earth, and good friend of Marc Havak, who apparently looks down his nose at the rest of us. That’s all the time we have tonight. Join us next time for all the news there is to know about the Forge of Heroes.”

  The Trillium Vou logo spun back into the frame before my display winked off.

  “Okay, I don’t know much about your homeworld, Marc, but I’m going to guess that was bad,” Nova said as she looked over at me with worry.

  “Yeah, that was the opposite of good,” I responded, still a bit shell shocked.

  “What?” Chaz said as he popped the last potato skin into his blue mouth, “I like him a lot. Very entertaining.”

  “You should be excited that they are making a movie about you, right, sugar?” Aurora asked from where she’d laid herself out on the couch like some kind of alluring dessert.

  “Yes,” I answered and dragged the word out into about three syllables. “In theory. I’m a bit worried about how he might have pissed off the rest of the known galaxy, thought.”

  “To be fair, Marc,” Artemis said trying to boost my spirits. “Those that already hate you can’t really hate you more.”

  “Thanks, Artie,” I said glumly.

  “Sure thing,” she replied and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  Just then the door of the apartment opened and PoLarr walked slowly into the hallway. Artemis jumped to her feet and rushed over to her.

  “What in the great googly moogly are you doing out of the amniotic casing, young lady!” She reprimanded the wounded Val’Keeyre.

  “I tried to tell her the same thing, Artemis, but she would not listen,” Grizz said as he fluttered into existence in my living room.

  “I felt like a hot dog,” PoLarr responded and made her way to the couch where she set herself down very gingerly and laid her head on Aurora’s shoulder sweetly. “Even though I truly do not understand the existence of that particular food product. On Tartarus Major we throw out the parts of any animal we do not wish to consume. We do not mush it up into a semi-solid paste, shove it into an intestinal casing with lots of sodium and nitrite, and then boil it.”

  “Yes,” I countered, “but they are delicious. And now I want one.”

  “One foot-long hot dog coming up, sir,” Woodhouse said as if he read my mind.

  “Goddamn I love you, Woodhouse,” I yelled at the robot.

  “I am fond of you as well, sir,” Woodhouse added as a foot long hot dog popped out of a compartment in his chest and onto the grill of the cooking range.

  “What did I miss?” PoLarr asked as Aurora made her more comfortable on the couch.

  “We got in a bar fight,” Chaz answered boastfully.

  “Damnit!” She grunted and then winced. “Ow.”

  “Did you all emerge victorious?” Grizz asked as he sat his hulking holographic form down on one end of the sectional next to Nova.

  “Damn hoppy,” Artemis replied.

  “By the Clenched Fist of Fortitude and Fury, that makes me happy,” Grizz gushed. “I highly approve of any outside, real world, training that takes place.

  “Oh, and the President of Earth, Marc’s good pal, insulted most of the known universe,” Aurora threw out. “It was quite the sight.”

  “That is fine,” Grizz said dismissively. “Being a great leader is not a popularity contest and neither is being a champion. We do
not need the megaverse to love you, Havak. It is better if they fear your great battle prowess, cunning, and bloodthirst.”

  “Oh, Grizz,” I said, “you know all the right things to say to make a fella feel special.”

  “I know,” Grizz said simply. “What is on the agenda for tonight’s viewing pleasure?”

  “Um,” I said a bit surprised, “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it being a team movie night.”

  “One must know how to adapt, Havak,” Grizz said, “I wish to be entertained.”

  “Okay,” I shrugged, “I guess now is as good a time as any to begin our sojourn into the Marvel cinematic universe and introduce you to a national treasure known as Robert Downey Jr. TV cue up Iron Man.”

  “Yes,” Grizz clapped, “I like the sound of this already. A man made of hardened metal! Huzzah.”

  My entertainment system fired up again as everyone settled in for some much-needed R&R on the couch. It wasn’t all blood, guts, and fury in the Crucible of Carnage. Sometimes it was a good movie with good friends.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was on a quest to find donuts. And what a glorious and difficult quest it was proving to be. It seemed that in the whole of this large and varied city, there wasn’t a single goddamn donut shop to be had.

  We’d gotten through the first Iron Man the night before to great fanfare and much rejoicing. Then everyone fell asleep ten minutes into The Incredible Hulk. At some point in the dark daytime, we’d all managed to drag ourselves off the couch and crawl away to our beds. All except for Artemis and me, that is.

  As the first shafts of the pre-dawn moonlight filtered in through my living room drapes, I’d woken up to find the two of us, snuggled close and comfy, on the middle part of the sectional. I’d ushered the still very asleep Artemis off to my bed to catch a bit more rest before I’d thrown on some sneakers, a hoodie, and headed out on my quest.

  I thought for sure there had to be some kind of galactic equivalent to the deep fat fried sugar coated delicacy that was traditional morning fast-breaking fare on Earth. But no. I had been wrong. Very very wrong.

  I was now a good thirty minutes into my quest and on a small, but busy side street lined with food carts and bustling with early dawn pedestrian traffic. I started down the street, and my nose was instantly assaulted by a barrage of scents. Most were good, like the bacony aroma that wafted over from a tiny cart with a skinny, yellow-skinned alien with five arms that had eyeballs in the palms who flipped patties of savory meat on a bright infrared grill.

  Others, well, others weren’t so good.

  Halfway down the small street, I passed by a cart that looked like an upside-down hot-air balloon. It rocked back and forth on the big bubble of the balloon and every few seconds a glob of greed phlegm shot a foot into the air from the top. Once airborne, half a dozen seven-inch tall pig-faced aliens that I could describe as piggy Tinkerbells flew in, wrapped the phlegm up in a pink tortilla looking thing and then threw it at the next person in line for one. As soon as the phlegm hit the air though, a smell that was like a leper who’d eaten a moldy blue-cheese burger made of burnt hair assaulted my nasal passages, and I literally sprinted away from the cart in the opposite direction.

  “No. No. No.” I shouted somewhat uncontrollably until I was a good hundred feet away from the cart and could no longer see it. I literally shook the smell out of my nose and while doing so, I spotted a cute little storefront that had a picture of what looked like an honest to goodness Earth donut in the window. “Oh, thank you sweet baby Jesus.”

  I went to spit the last of the leper phlegm out of my mouth and hawked a big, giant loogie onto a massive black boot. The owner of said boot growled from at least a foot above me, and it sounded like broken glass on ground-up pavement. Before I knew what had happened a big leathery hand grabbed me by the shirt collar and hoisted me off the ground where I found myself staring into angry red reptilian eyes set deep into a large, iguana meets Cro-magnon man skull topped with spikes. I knew who those eyes belonged to.

  “Morning, Tyyraxx old buddy,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “What are the odds that we should run into each other, huh?”

  “Havak,” Tyyraxx said as if my name was made of poop. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with as much of a nonchalant shrug as I could manage while being held six inches off the ground, “I’m like a bad penny. I just keep turning up.”

  “Indeed,” he spat and then let go of my shirt. Even though I hadn’t had my morning gallon of coffee my reflexes still kicked in, and I landed pretty gracefully. Once I got my feet fully under me, the pit of red hot rage I had buried deep within me for the overgrown lizard threatened to boil over. This big, ugly, mean, nasty, two-legged reptile was the reason Grizz had died in the arena so long ago.

  According to the stories that I’d heard, Tyyraxx and Grizz had been close alliance mates. Almost like father and son. Grizz had taken a young Tyyraxx under his tutelage and then when he was strong enough to survive on his own, Tyyraxx had betrayed Grizz.

  Stabbed him in the back.

  Literally.

  I hated the big horny toad on steroids with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. I also realized that, as much as I wanted to unleash that passionate hate, here and now was probably not the best place. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I knew he was still too strong for me to beat on my own outside the arena. Plus, that kind of thing was apparently frowned upon. Barring minor bar brawls, champions weren’t supposed to fight each other outside of the Crucible.

  “I didn’t know you crawled out from under the rock where you and your little buddies like to slither around this early in the morning,” I shot out as I tried to reign in my instinct to fight the overgrown pair of tacky cowboy boots.

  “You are a funny little creature,” Tyyraxx chuckled dismissively. “This is the one I was telling you about, Gargor.”

  To his right was a slightly shorter, yet no less imposing, or ugly for that matter, lizard based alien. He was definitely not the same species as Tyyraxx but it was like they could have been distant cousins. Gargor resembled a horned lizard with a sort of round body, and a flat head with a blunt snout. His head had a ring of horns around the back and along a ring on the top. He looked to be a bit older, a bit more grizzled, and a bit crankier. It was actually his boot that I’d spit on.

  “Ah, yeah, the one trained by Grizz?” Gargor said as he eyed me closely. “I see what you mean now. It is a funny creature.”

  “Oh, I’m a laugh riot,” I seethed.

  “Yes, I am sure Grizz is doing his very best,” Tyyraxx added with a sneer. “He always was so earnest and noble.”

  “Look where that got him,” Gargor joked. The two laughed. I could feel the red rage start to roil in the pit of my stomach. “It is now in the Silver Tier, is it not, Tyyraxx?”

  “Maybe, I do not concern myself with fodder,” Tyyraxx said dismissively although I knew damn well he was keeping an eye on me.

  “My alliance and I have one Silver Tier match left that will start later today,” Gargor threw out almost nonchalantly. “Maybe fate will smile on me, and I can rid you of this little nuisance like you rid the games of Grizz.”

  “Oh, Gargor,” Tyyraxx said sarcastically, “the odds of that would be beyond our control. Would they not? But still, that would be entertaining.”

  “You know, when we hit Gold Tier, I’m coming for you,” I said to Tyyraxx as I tried to ignore Gargor completely.

  “You mean Platinum?” He corrected me.

  “Damn it,” I said under my breath. “That’s what I said, Platinum Tier. Yeah, when we get to Platinum Tier I’m going to make a lovely matching pair of loafers and belt out of you.”

  “I think,” Tyyraxx said quizzically. “I think, you’ve said that to me before.”

  “Wait,” I had to stop and think about it. “I think you are right. Huh? It’s early.”

  Tyyraxx nodded his head in agreement almost li
ke we both forgot we were mortal enemies barely holding back from starting a street fight before seven A.M. Almost.

  “I shall make a nice loveseat and matching ottoman, then,” I said after thinking about it for a second.

  “Better,” Tyyraxx said after he thought about the insult and shrugged in approval. Then he laughed loud. “In your dreams, human. The weakest member of my team could smash you to little more than a stain.”

  “Yeah, but I’d be like a grass stain,” I shot back, “hard to get out.”

  “I do not know what you are talking about,” Tyyraxx said and shook his head. “You would not be hard to get out. You would be dead. But like, super dead. Hence why I said stain. I am confused.”

  “Ha!” I yelled loudly because quite honestly I was confused as well. I really did not do well before coffee. “That’s right you are. Just like you’ll be confused when my team, and I rise through two more tiers and kick your ever-loving ass.”

  “My ass does not love even in the short term, much less forever,” Tyyraxx growled and pointed a claw-tipped finger at me.

  “That’s not what I heard,” I teased in what I hoped was an intimidating voice but more than likely sounded like an Eighth-grade insult.

  “What have you heard about how my ass loves?” Tyyraxx asked before he caught himself and roared in anger. “Enough! You are infuriating, and I am hungry. Gargor, let us go.”

  All joking aside, I felt my feet shift slightly into a loose fighter’s stance, not sure what the big gecko was going to do.

  “Oh, funny,” he chuckled, and it sounded like something eating the eggs of its young, “I’m not going to fight you here in the middle of the food market. That would be far below a champion of my renown.”

  “Well, good,” I said with bravado, “I’m not going to fight you either.”

  “I’m going to let my fans do it,” he said, smiled a big crocodile smile, and stepped aside to reveal seven lizard henchmen or henchwomen, I really couldn’t tell, behind him. “See, I have fans too, Havak. Only mine aren’t all teenage girls. Now, excuse me while Gargor and I go get a donut.”