Read Max Arena Online

Authors: Jamie Doyle

Tags: #alien, #duel, #arena, #warlord, #max, #arena battles

Max Arena (46 page)

‘So where is
it?’Max asked.

Abdullah turned
to Max and said, ‘Saint Augustine Island.’

Max, Elsa and
Kris all looked searchingly at each other, shoulders shrugging.

‘It’s next
door,’ sounded Peter’s voice. All eyes turned towards Team Max’s
head of security. ‘It’s just over that way about fifty kilometres,’
Peter added, jerking a thumb behind him.

‘You’re
building a secret stadium right next door to us,’ Kris asked
slowly, ‘knowing the whole world has their eyes on this island
right here?’

‘We are,’
Abdullah answered, ‘and you have Joseph to thank for the brilliance
in the simplicity. While the world is focused on our little island
here, we have distracted them from the stadium island, which is so
close, but so deeply in our shadow that no one would notice
it.’

‘How much have
you built so far?’ Kris asked.

‘We have been
under construction for almost a month and are nearing completion of
the main frame. We now would like you all to visit and especially
Max and Kris to outline any preferred arena details you would like
integrated such as weapons ports, shape of the arena space and the
type of duelling surface. It is time to start designing and
building these elements in.’

‘You mean you
want to know,’ Kris began, ‘what we need to gain ourselves an
advantage?’

‘Yes. You need
to identify what elements will suit your strategy and skills, so we
can make sure these elements are meticulously integrated. This may,
unfortunately, require you to think somewhat like an engineer, but
I assure you, my men are the most capable available to assist
us.’

‘How is it you
can manage to get a construction project like this going right now,
all things considered?’ Elsa asked, getting up from the table and
gathering her plate along with Millie and Jason’s plates. ‘I mean,
sure we’ve managed to bring the world back from the brink to an
extent and everyone’s a bit happier, but we’re all still perched on
a knife edge and here you are, building a new stadium. The money I
imagine is not an issue, but the logistics and in particular, the
people. To build a stadium right now and in a matter of months
compared to the usual, I don’t know two or three years it would
normally take, where are you getting the people? You’d need
thousands of workers and I can’t imagine there are thousands of
willing workers just floating around right now?’

‘Your
observation is astute,’ Abdullah said. ‘So, we had to adapt and the
first criteria for the new stadium was the size. Saint Augustine
Island is not overly large. Also, we do not plan on an overly large
audience. We are designing it to accommodate approximately twenty
thousand people, which by today’s standards is small, but given the
stadium’s remote location, the fact it will be televised globally
and our need to maintain security right up until the event
commences, an overly large audience does not suit our
planning.’

‘Okay,’ Elsa
said slowly, ‘and the workers?’

‘Yes, the
workers,’ Abdullah continued. ‘Given the relatively small size of
the stadium and the fact it is a once-off event and so will not
require durable construction, we realised we could build using a
temporary design with temporary materials. Therefore, the key was
not heavy machinery and cutting-edge construction technology, but
rather simple materials and people power, hence why your question,
Elsa is so important. We needed construction workers. Thousands of
them and not necessarily skilled in any way. Worker bees if you
will and only a handful of skilled supervisors to ensure progress
and integrity of the work. Fortunately, only minimal technology and
advanced engineering are needed for this approach, so the project
is actually quite simple to execute.’

Elsa opened her
mouth to ask again, but was cut short by Abdullah.

‘India,’ he
said. ‘We sourced much of our labour force from India, where we
knew there were tens of thousands of willing workers with no
families of their own to spend these last few months with. So, we
promised them two things if they joined our team. Subsistence in
the form of guaranteed food and comfortable shelter and then
payment in full of a substantial reward if our civilisation
continued beyond the arena.’

‘You promised
them riches if we all survived?’ Elsa asked. ‘And they bought into
that?’

‘In their
droves and as I am sure you would know,’ Abdullah replied, ‘I would
like nothing more than to pay them their riches. The finances are
already in place.’

‘You said it’s
only a small stadium,’ Kris cut in. ‘Who’s invited?’

Abdullah waved
a languid arm towards Joe who stepped forward.

‘Select world
leaders only,’ he said. ‘There is a coalition within the United
Nations that Sheikh Abdullah and I have managed to forge over the
last few months, who have assisted each other in many ways to
maintain a core of peace and control in the world. Be under no
illusion that if this coalition did not exist, anarchy would have
overcome us months ago despite the positive impact of Team Max. It
is these dignitaries and a few more that will be in attendance.
They are allowed to invite any direct and extended family relatives
and some close associates if they wish.’

‘That won’t
fill a twenty thousand capacity stadium,’ Max said. ‘Who’s making
up the numbers?’

‘The workers,’
Joe answered. ‘We have fifteen thousand on site, so that should go
a long way to filling the seats.’

‘Clever,’ Max
added before throwing his second apple core in the bin.

The room fell
quiet, except for Millie and Jason who were now tickling each other
at the table.

‘Right,’ Elsa
said. ‘I better get these two trouble makers out of here and into
class. What time are we off?’

‘One o’clock,’
Joe replied. ‘We will convene on the north lawn and go via
helicopter shuttle.’

‘Not the Black
Hawks again?’ Kris said. ‘They’re so noisy.’

‘I’m sorry,
Kris, but yes,’ Joe said.

Kris
scowled.

‘Sir?’ Peter
started. ‘Can I cover off a few things with your security chief
before we go?’

‘Please, do,’
Joe replied. ‘Excuse me, Max?’ May Abdullah and I have a quick word
with you and Kris?’

‘Sure,’ Max
replied as he began peeling a banana. ‘It better be quick though.
I’ve got weapons training in half an hour.’

Joe then led
Max, Kris and Abdullah through the dining room and into the living
room where they stood clustered around the coffee table. Joe
began.

‘Max. Kris. We
really do need you both to think carefully about what arena details
you would like to have designed in and why. We were thinking things
such as how weapons are positioned or made available around the
arena. Perhaps they could be delivered through portholes in the
floor or via windows in the surrounding wall? Also, would you like
grass or some sort of synthetic surface on the arena itself? Kris,
please also give thought as to how you would like to interact with
Max on the night and Max, think about where and how you would like
your family to be accommodated. This is just as important as
weapons distribution as we want to make sure you have as much peace
of mind as possible regarding your family’s comfort during the
duels and also that you can see them clearly and they have no
obstructions or difficulties in seeing you.’

Max nodded.
Abdullah now spoke.

‘We are
approaching the last, my friends,’ he said, his normally melodic
rolling tone now serious. ‘Our planning and preparations are at the
critical stage. Do not hold back on your requests. If you can
imagine it, my engineers will make it so. Let hope drive your
creativity.’

Joe looked on
as both Max and Kris nodded, gravity clearly etched on their
features. Abdullah was right. The planning was coming to a close.
Fate would imminently arrive. The only question left unanswered is,
would doom come hand in hand.

 

3am, 22
nd
November (10 days later).
Maternal Vision

 

Blackness
filled his vision. Complete. Total and utter. Not a hint nor a
shade of any form of light fought against the darkness. It was all
consuming and in it Max found a certain comfort, but then he became
aware of something else. Something not at all comforting. Pain.

Suddenly light
blasted into his senses, instantly and entirely replacing the
darkness, causing his mind to spin. At first the light was a haze
with no definition within it. Then slowly, images formed. Edges
appeared and even colour. Depth and clarity followed and finally,
Max beheld a vision and it was strange, but above all, it was
awful.

In front of him
stood a massive, wall-sized pane of glass, looking out to a dark
void scape that held within it, splinters of light. Space. That was
all it could be. Stars and space, but it was not this odd view that
was awful. It was the reflection he could see in the glass and it
was not himself. It was his mother and she was in pain.

Max had never
seen his mother in alien form, but he instinctively recognised her
and to see her now like this and for the first time was despairing.
He did not know her true anatomy, but it was obvious that she had
been injured, horribly. Max also suspected the injuries were not
accidental, but had been inflicted, cruelly.

Her arms were
scarred and raw. Her legs were cut and scalded and her face
disfigured. His mother had been tortured and while Max could still
see the strength of her defiance in her eyes, he could also feel
her will faltering. Her ordeal had been long and brutal, but still
she resisted.

Max searched
his mother’s mind, how he did this he did not know, but he did and
instantly found the source of her strength. Her son. Max himself.
She knew Max still lived and that while he lived, her hope
held.

Suddenly, it
dawned on Max that this was a vision and he was in fact looking
through his mother’s eyes like they were his own. He wondered what
other things he could do in this form? He tried to speak to his
mother and he heard his own spoken words as he willed them into
reality.

‘Mother?’ Max
said urgently. ‘Is that you?’

‘My son,’
sounded a voice that despite the foreign language, Max could
somehow understand. Obvious also was the relief. ‘At last you have
found me.’

‘Where are
you?’

‘I am in
Macktidas’ jail on the Nar’gellan command ship.’

‘Where is
that?’

‘Far, beyond
your physical reach, but do not worry yourself with my situation. I
am alive and I will keep myself alive as long as you live.
Macktidas cannot break me, no matter how heinous his methods.’

‘Why is he
torturing you?’

‘Originally it
was to find you, but since his discovery of you, it has turned into
mindless entertainment. I think now he wants me to witness your
death and then he will finally kill me and claim the throne without
dispute.’’

‘Tell me what I
can do? How do I free you?’

‘You cannot
free me. Not even I know where in the universe I am, but I can
assure you, we are nowhere close to Earth. I am beyond you.’

‘There has to
be something I can do? There has to be? Tell me?’

‘There is one
thing you can do.’

‘What?”

‘You can kill
Macktidas.’

‘If I can’t
reach him, how do I do that?’

‘He will come
to you. I know he has challenged you to a series of duels. It is
the common custom of our people to hold tournaments, whereby our
ruler must reconfirm their eligibility to command by defeating
three opponents in combat, the final one being a genuine challenger
for the throne. In this case, because Macktidas knows you are the
rightful ruler, he has at least demonstrated some honour and
relegated himself to challenger status, but this means you have the
disadvantage. You must compete in all three duels, but finally, at
the last, you will gain your opportunity. Macktidas is the
challenger and so, he personally will enter the arena for the third
duel and that will be your opportunity to kill him and rightfully
claim your throne. Until he kills you, he knows his claim to the
throne is in dispute.’

‘But
you
are the rightful ruler of the Nar’gellan race. Not me.’

‘When Macktidas
usurped the throne and killed your father and your older siblings,
I abdicated by fleeing. I no longer held the strength of arms or
loyalty in the population to remain as leader, but you, my son, do
have the abilities needed to rule. I raised you deliberately to do
so for I knew that eventually Macktidas would find you and now he
has. Your destiny has arrived and I know you are ready to claim
it.’

‘I also know
who I am, mother. I’m a half breed and even though I’ll fight to
the death and maybe even win the first and second duel, I know my
chances against Macktidas are small. He is an elite. A select
strain of the Nar’gellan species. For me to defeat him after having
fought two duels, I will need extraordinary luck and even then,
that may not be enough.’

‘My son, open
your mind and open your heart. Even from my jail cell I can feel
the strength growing inside you. I can feel your Nar’gellan and
human halves melding together, making you whole. I can feel your
purpose inside your mind and how both your human and Nar’gellan
passions drive you. Do not be dismayed by your half breed genetics.
It is in fact your humanity that gives you the edge over Macktidas.
Your human emotions make you superior to his blind, Nar’gellan
blood lust. You have the most powerful weapon of all inside your
heart. Love. Nar’gellans do not feel love. Not even I. We raise
children and grow affinities for our fellow Nar’gellans in ways
other than through love, such as respect and loyalty. We do not
feel love. We are just not capable of it. Humans naturally feel
love and when you face Macktidas, it will be your love that
ultimately defeats him.’

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