by J. N. Chaney
“Is this all some kind of fancy talk to say you want me to fight someone?” I asked the screen, unamused. “Usually, people want me to fight someone.”
“Yes and no. The answer is always yes and no.” Jezra leaned close into the monitor so all I could see were her large blinking eyes. “The test is one part combat the other pure determination. It will take iron will to see Legion and the Rung defeated. You must possess not only the heart of a champion but the intellect of a leader.”
“You’re starting to lose me,” I said. “What do you want me to do? If you want me to jump through a hoop to get out of here, then fine, let’s just get it done.”
“Very good, very good,” Jezra said, leaning back.
I couldn’t see what she was doing, but her gaze looked down now as she moved her hands over some kind of control panel.
A hissing sound started in the center of the room, then a panel in the floor moved to make room for a cylinder to rise from the ground with two arms extending out. It stopped about chest high, the pair of arms extending a meter in length and as thick as my torso.
“Your opponent will be a modified drone we used to train our own troops during the Blood War with the Rung,” Jezra informed me as she went to work pressing more buttons on the keyboard in front of her.
Another hissing sound met my ears. The door opposite my side of the room opened from the ground up, revealing a robot. I had seen robots before. They had them back on Earth. But this robot was different. It stood easily six feet with a Remboshi-shaped body, reptilian head, skinny limbs, and a thick tail.
It walked into the room with the grace of a living being, no clunky steps or awkward movements. Its gecko-shaped head sported bright yellow eyes, and the steel encasing its body was dark grey.
“The first test is one of determination,” Jezra began. “The two of you will each take a section of the turnkey in the center of the room. Each of you will try and rotate it in a different direction. Once one of you have turned it a total of three times, the test is over.”
“I’m not making excuses here, but your Remboshi robot over there is probably stronger than I am to begin with,” I said. “Why don’t you get in here and go against the robot?”
“Fair point, fair point,” Jezra said from her seat behind the monitor. “I set the training bot’s strength level to match your own. The only difference here is that the robot will not tire and you will.”
“Wonderful,” I said, stretching my arms and shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”
22
The steel of the turnkey felt cold under my hands. The robot was directly to my left on the other side of the device. It was impassive to say the least, looking at nothing besides the steel cylinder in front of it.
“You may begin,” Jezra said from her place on the monitor.
I leaned into the steel bar in front of me then bent my knees and extended my arms. Head down, I pushed for the life of me. I think I got lucky. The turnkey actually moved a meter or so as the robot beside me adjusted his own grip on the turnkey and matched my strength.
Hope died a moment later as we came to a halt. We were deadlocked. The robot was using the exact same force I was using on the turnkey. I understood I had to think of something fast. My arms were already burning from pressing my palms into the steel and air came in faster, labored gulps.
“Now you see the true test of things,” Jezra said. “What will you do when you are faced with an enemy that matches you perfectly? What will you do when your enemy will not give in or tire?”
I didn’t waste the breath to respond. I had a finite amount of time to come up with a plan and execute said plan before my energy reserves ran out. With no food in my gut and little rest, I knew my tank was going to run out soon.
I faltered for a moment trying to change my grip on the cylinder. The robot noticed and used my temporary distraction to take another step in the turnkey. I wrapped my arms on the underside of my cylinder, pressing my chest into the steel bar now. My legs were still bent in a split lunge position as I pressed my frame into the steel.
I stopped losing ground for the time being.
Think, think. Focus and think, I told myself. This thing is as strong as you are and won’t get tired. You’re not going to beat it no matter how strong you are. You have to think of something else.
The idea hit me like a thunderbolt. It might not work, but I was crazy enough to give it a shot. Giving up my grip on my side of the cylinder completely, I turned and waited for the robot to slowly stalk forward, carrying the entire weight of the turnkey himself. When he reached me, I leaned into the steel cylinder and he pressed forward on the opposite side.
The turnkey came to a complete stop again. The robot was so close, I could reach out and touch him. That was point. On the other side of the cylinder and this close, I got a better look at it.
Gears just under his metal exterior hummed and buzzed in a low tone. If it did take notice of me at all, it didn’t show it, so singular was its purpose.
“Interesting, very interesting,” Jezra said from her place in the monitor. “What is your strategy now?”
I still wasn’t going to waste breath in talking. I needed to act now. Every second that passed, I was exerting energy. I allowed the turnkey to move forward and went to work on the robot itself.
The cylinder began to move as I struck out with the heel of my foot to the right ankle of the robot. I gave ground as the turnkey cylinder in front of me pushed me back. I had three full rotations to work with. If the robot forced me back that far, the test would be over and I’d lose.
Over and over again, I slammed the heel of my right foot into the left ankle of the robots’. Shock of pain from the force of the blows exploded into my foot and leg, but I ignored them and kept hammering away.
“Oh, I see, I see,” Jezra said. “Yes, yes, I recognize it in you. This is not a strategy that has worked in the hundreds of times the tribunal has been used, but perhaps you will succeed where others failed.”
With every blow I landed, I let out an exhale. Over and over again, I struck the same ankle of the robot. I didn’t need to break it. I just needed him to limp the slightest bit. If I could put him off balance or put a hitch in his gait, it might be enough.
I struck him over and over again, hoping I was making progress but not seeing any. The robot continued his relentless press forward. I lost track of how many times I hit him. I didn’t lose track of how many turns the turnkey performed. We had already made one full rotation. Two more and Jezra would write me off as an imposter and we’d be screwed.
Images of what would happen if I failed this test filled my mind. Would we be kept here as prisoners? Would we be thrown out without the supplies we desperately needed? Would we be thrown out into the mist marsh to deal with those creatures?
I wasn’t sure and had no intention of finding out. For the first time since I heard of all this crazy talk of the Great Dawn, I actually wanted to convince someone that I was, regardless of how I felt.
I continued to slam the heel of my boot into the robot’s ankle, all the time giving ground as he pressed the turnkey ever forward, despite the pain shooting up my left leg.
The turnkey made another full rotation. It coiled like a spring at the base of the revolving cylinder. As the robot made its third and final rotation, the cylinder became the harder to turn.
Come on, Dean, I told myself, rallying. Sweat began to gather at my brow. Come on, you’ve gotta take this thing out!
I knew his ankle joint had to be weakened by now. Being a trained professional, I knew exactly how and where to strike, so I struck hard. Robot or not, a joint was a joint. In an act of desperation, I reared my foot back and sent a kick out to the robot’s left lower shin rather than the ankle joint. That finally did it. There was a pop and a whine of gears. The robot faltered.
There was no time for celebration. I saw my opportunity and went after it. Gone was the laser precision and measured blows. Now it was all
me and how much heart I could pour into pushing.
I ran back to my piece of steel opposite the robot and slammed into the bar with everything I had.
The robot, to my left, was slipping on the ground, struggling to walk and stay balanced on its one working ankle. A mixture of steam and smoke came from the wounded appendage.
My chest heaved, sucking in oxygen as fast as I could. Inch by inch, I fought the robot back. At times, we were deadlocked, but every time the robot shifted either forward or back, he lost more ground thanks to the broken ankle.
I couldn’t feel my right foot at all after so many strikes to the metal, but that was fine. I gave into the primal force inside of me that had won me so many fights before.
“Rawww!” I shouted as I threw my body against my bar, only to take a moment to gasp for air and then go again.
Again and again, I made the challenge, pushing the robot back farther and farther. I lost track of how many rotations I had made, refusing to give up.
People say anger is a dangerous emotion, and they’re right. Unless you can channel that anger into something useful that allows you to get rid of all that bad energy in a positive way. I did just that.
I remembered how pissed I was about crash landing here and I pushed. I remembered how many people we’d lost and I pushed. I remembered how my life as a gladiator ended and I pushed.
A loud click filled the room as the cylinder in front of me stopped moving altogether and locked into place. I’d won.
I fell to the ground on all fours. My lungs burned even more than the muscles on my arms and legs. My chest felt sore from where I had slammed it against the bar in front of me. Rivers of sweat fell from my face and sprinkled the ground below me.
“Yes, yes!” Jezra shouted from the monitor. “You are who I thought you were. You are who I thought you were. One more test, Great Dawn. The final tribunal awaits. I believe in you.”
“It’s super weird for you to be rooting for me,” I said, finally getting my breathing under control as I sat back on my heels. “Half of me wants to knock you out right now. Scratch that. Most of me wants to knock you out right now.”
“One more test, one more test,” Jezra repeated like a mad woman. “Hand-to-hand combat next. You were made for this, Dean. Your gloves are there across the room. I would hurry if I were you.”
“Hand-to-hand combat with a freaking robot?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet. “Why don’t you just break every bone in my hands?”
I looked up in time to see the robot I injured limping out of the door on the opposite side of the room. Another training robot of the same make and model passed its counterpart on the way to me.
Just like the turnkey rose from the ground in the room, another cylinder sprouted from the floor. This one had a pair of thick gloves on the top.
“Hurry,” Jezra encouraged me. “Get them on, hurry.”
I stumbled over to the gloves. They were unlike anything I had ever worn. It shouldn’t have been that surprising since I was on an alien planet speaking to gecko people.
The gloves were matte black with openings for my fingers. On the knuckles of the pads, steel iron was worked into the fabric. It looked like I had brass knuckles underneath.
“I guess I really do have steel hands now,” I said out loud as I put the gloves on my hands and shook my head. “Dean Steel Hands Slade fighting on alien planets.”
I muttered this all under my breath while I worked the wraps on. There wasn’t a whole lot of time to game plan. The robot in front of me was advancing, and he meant business.
He reached me just as I strapped on the second glove. The robot was quicker than I expected, swiping at me with a closed fist. I ducked the blow, remembering its speed and accuracy as I danced around it on tired feet.
Exhaustion was something I would just have to deal with. I’d lost a ton of water sweating during the first test, and I felt the numbness in my foot spread up my leg. All of this I filed away and never took my eyes off my opponent.
It swiped at me again, leaving its metal torso open. I took my chance, sending a left-right combination that would have felled any human in the gladiator pit.
The robot looked down at me. He didn’t even move. The area where I struck his torso barely showed a dent.
I was in for one heck of a fight.
23
I knew better than to let my guard down. I blamed half on being so exhausted I could barely stand and the other half on sheer shock that I failed to move the robot with those blows. Either way, the robot sent out a blow I barely dodged. His metal hands racked the left side of my head from my ear into my hairline, leaving a long gash and spilling warm blood.
And so the fight began.
I was barely fast enough to avoid the blows sent by the robot. Slamming my fists into his head and torso was completely ineffective. The only upside was that the gloves absorbed the blows. The steel in my gloves hit the steel of the robot’s exterior, creating tiny divots and dents.
Burning fatigue descended on my arms as I bounced around searching for any kind of opening to exploit. The whole foot stomp trick wasn’t going to work on an opponent that was trying to take my head off. I’d had it easier before. The robot on the turnkey hadn’t tried to harm me; its single function was to push forward. This robot’s single function was to kill me.
For every shot the robot got in on me, I got twenty, but it didn’t matter. In minutes, his body was riddled with the feeble attempts I’d made at finding any kind of weak point. From his arms to his torso, head, and even legs, he was armor. The joints I targeted would give eventually if I could send a good fifty shots at it, but there was no chance of that.
Every time I got in close, I absorbed at least one blow while landing precious few of my own. A strike to my stomach doubled me over. Another blow to my jaw split the inside of my mouth. I couldn’t take much more, and my strength was flagging.
I rethought my strategy, bouncing away from the robot and letting my aching arms rest by my sides. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. I was going to lose unless I did something drastic. Maybe, maybe at full power and rested, I could take the robot, but I was far from either of those at the moment.
The robot stalked toward me and I jogged away. I needed to buy more time to think.
This is just like the first test, I told myself. You can’t win straight up. They know that. You know that. So how do you win?
I scanned the room for anything I might have missed. Anything that I could use as a weapon, anything that would give me the edge I needed.
My eyes fell on the turnkey.
“Don’t give up!” Jezra cheered from her monitor. “You can do it! Don’t give up! I believe!”
I blocked everything out as a second plan formed. The turnkey was still up with its two metal bars extended and wound tight, so I ran over to it and took a closer look.
I had wound the cylinder tight like a coiled spring at its base. It was locked in place now, but if I could hit it hard enough, maybe the mechanism locking it in place would give, sending the metal bars spinning back into their normal position.
I struck one of the metal bars. The turnkey shook.
You can do this, I told myself. This is going to work. Time it. You just have to time it.
I squared up on one side of the turnkey, keeping one eye on the advancing robot. Blood dripped into my eyes, but I blinked it away. I had bled before. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t used to.
The robot descended on me, those empty yellow eyes stalking me. It reached for me across the turnkey with an open hand like it was going to grab my face and rip it from my skull.
I saw all of this then ignored it. A single purpose entered my thoughts. I focused on the target in front of me—the steel bar locked in place after being wound so tight.
I let another roar escape my lips as the air exited my lungs. My right fist was a rocket pushed forward with the torque of my entire body. I had broken jaws, ribs, even sternums with that fist
. If I could do that, I could break one freaking turnkey. I had to.
“Rawww!” I yelled, slamming my fist into the bar. The mechanism holding the turnkey in place broke somewhere inside the contraption. I let the force of my blow carry me out of the way of the turnkey as the metal arms spun widely.
With nothing to keep them in place, they gave way to the coiled force inside. The metal bar closest to the robot made contact with its right side. It crushed the metal torso, sending the robot flying into the wall.
Smoke and sparks erupted from the training robot. Still it fought its way back to its feet. the left side of its body caved in. Its head had made contact with the wall first, so half of the left side of its skull was crushed.
Still it rose again, fighting to regain its balance.
I wasn’t about to let that happen. I sprinted at the robot, flying through the air in a tackle my trainers would have shaken their heads at. All form was out the window, I just needed to put this thing down for good. I landed on the robot as it struggled, my chest colliding with the steel frame of its body. Pain lanced through me as I pressed my body against the robot’s, forcing it to the ground.
The arm on its injured right side flailed toward me, trying to grab anything it could get its metal hand on. I traded my position on the robot’s back for an arm bar then wrapped both my own arms around the right arm of the robot, positioning my legs over its chest. I used my entire body against the one injured limb.
If the robot’s side had not taken the damage from the turnkey, there was no way this would’ve worked, but the arm was already half falling out of its socket anyway.
Using my legs, I pressed down on the robot’s chest while my arms and back arched backward to tear the limb away from the body.
The robot tried to fight back, but I was a dog with a bone. There was no way on this green planet I was letting go. Tapping into the deepest part of my reserves, I ripped the robot’s arm from its body. Both the useless arm and I fell to the ground.