Read Max Arena Online

Authors: Jamie Doyle

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

Max Arena (50 page)

Abdullah smiled
even more broadly as Max rolled his eyes. ‘I have no doubt,’
Abdullah said, ‘that it will take much, much more than that
contraption to make you pause, my friend and to be honest and I
think we both know this to be true, it will give Kris more pleasure
in using it than it will aid you in your training. She enjoys
testing you very much.’

‘You got that
right. She’s a mean one. Anyway, see you tomorrow.’


Ma as
Salama.
Good night,’ Abdullah aid with a slight bow. Max turned
and started to walk off, but then was brought up short as the
Sheikh added something else. ‘And thank you, Max, for asking after
me. It has been a long time since I told anyone of Fathiya. You
have resurrected some beautiful memories and I will sleep well
tonight.’

Max said
nothing, instead choosing to enjoy the compliment as he beheld his
friend whose white robes gently shone in the low light against the
sable backdrop of night. He nodded and then turned away as Abdullah
watched him go.

 

4:30am, 2nd December (the next morning).
Dawn

 

In the
burgeoning light of the new day, Max sat on the northern lawn,
doing up the blue laces on his orange shoes. Then, looking up, he
beheld the dawn. Ragged scraps of gray black clouds lay scattered
across the eastern sky, the light of the unrisen sun touching their
bellies to make them glow like giant lanterns. Overhead the lightly
star flecked night was growing lighter as the strength of the dawn
pushed it from the Heavens.

Standing up,
Max sucked in a breath of fresh air that filled the very pits of
his lungs. Then, holding it, he absorbed every molecule of oxygen
to finally exhale it back into the air. He felt calm. He felt
prepared. He felt ready.

Then, sensing
someone behind him, Max turned and found Sheikh Abdullah walking
towards him, emerging from out of the shadows. His flowing robes
gave him the appearance of floating rather than walking, with one
hand hidden within the folds of his clothes and his other hand held
out in front, clutching his prayer beads as he fingered them
individually on the leather strap. The moment struck Max as
somewhat surreal, almost divine. Like the Sheikh was an angel
striding out of thin air to address him.

‘Your
Highness,’ Max said, ‘you’re just in time. Kris’ lackeys have just
lugged that cannon contraption your boys made down to the beach, so
they can pummel me with it. Should be a good show if you’re up for
it?’

‘Good morning,
Max,’ Abdullah greeted in his smooth, melodic tone. ‘Thank you, but
no. I shall pass on your offer this morning, but I do wish you
luck.’

‘Thanks. I’ll
show you the bruises later,’ Max replied as he turned to readdress
the sunrise.

“I see you
enjoy the dawn just as I do?’ Abdullah said, stepping up next to
Max to gaze at the sky.

‘Dawn and
sunset. My favourite times of day.’

‘Dawn brings
hope,’ Sheikh Abdullah said.

‘And sunset
brings those we love back home together,’ Max added.

A silence
slipped over them. The horizon changed shade to a silvery gold.

Abdullah spoke
first. ‘Last night you asked me a question and after reflecting on
my answer, I confess I did not tell you all that was on my
mind.’

Max looked down
at the ground and then back up at the sunrise. Abdullah
continued.

‘As I said, my
demons are tamed. Not banished forever, but certainly tamed and I
told you how I accomplished that, but I did not answer your
question. I did not explain why I am content despite the doom that
threatens us. How is it I have my peace in all this
uncertainty?’

Max remained
silent. Abdullah continued.

‘Eternity. It
is eternity that provides my solace. If Death awaits us all in the
arena, I know that I will be reunited with Fathiya to share the
eternity we had hoped for. God will be waiting for me to place my
hand in Fathiya’s once again and I can be nothing but content with
that surety. That is why I do not fear Death. In truth, if it were
not for my purpose in life to guide my people in the world and aid
all of us through these troubled times, I would welcome Death.’

Max turned and
looked at his friend as the warming glow of sunrise touched their
faces.

‘However,’
Abdullah added, ‘my solace in this perspective has been shaken in
the last few months. It seems I have found a reason to live and
now, for the very first time since Fathiya left this mortal realm,
I have meaning other than my perceived purpose to want to stay
alive and that is to share my life with you, Max and the special
people surrounding us. It is all of you that have given me a desire
to live, so if you succeed in the arena and life continues for us
all, I will also be content. Eternity in the afterlife is no longer
the only prize. Life itself is now equally as precious to me.’

Abdullah
shifted to return Max’s look as the sun broke free of the chains of
the horizon, sending a bloom of gold flooding across the grass
field. A gentle breeze also stirred across the lawn, ruffling
Abdullah’s robes and the trees surrounding the estate.

Kris walked
carefully up to the two silent men from behind. ‘Max?’ she asked
carefully. ‘It’s time to go get sweaty.’

Abdullah broke
his gaze off and gently turned to bow to Kris. ‘
As salaam
alaykum,
Kris. Good morning.’

‘Good morning,
Your Highness,’ Kris returned, smiling a little awkwardly.

Max noted Kris’
shyness and the difference in Abdullah’s bow, that it was slightly
deeper and more prolonged, making it almost intimate.

‘I will leave
you both to your training,’ Abdullah said and glided away.

Max flicked his
gaze from Abdullah to Kris and then back to Abdullah.

‘What?’ Kris
asked, hands held out to the sides.

‘Hold on a
sec,’ Max said to Kris before bounding off after the Sheikh. ‘Your
Highness, excuse me?’

Sheikh Abdullah
halted to let Max jog around in front of him.

‘Thanks for
coming down to see me this morning and thank you for sharing,’ Max
said. ‘The more I get to know you, the more you make me realise I
should have gone out looking for friends a long time ago.’

Abdullah gently
nodded again.

Max continued.
‘But, something just occurred to me. Something that maybe no one
else is going to say to you, so I guess it might just have to be
me. Remember also that I’m no expert in these sorts of things, but
last night you told me Fathiya was the love of your life. Well,
maybe she was the love of your
past
life and that somewhere
out there is the love of your
future
life? You also just
said you’d be content to spend the rest of your life with the
special people around us, so...’ Max trailed off to cast a glance
over the Sheikh’s shoulder towards Kris.

Abdullah
guessed the direction of Max’s gaze and resisted turning. Instead
he looked down and resettled his hands inside the sleeves of his
robes.

‘You are wrong,
Max,’ he said simply, looking up at him. Max squinted in return as
the Sheikh’s mouth crinkled upwards. ‘You may
very well
be
an expert in these matters after all.’

Then without
another word, Abdullah glided past Max and off towards the mansion.
Max did not turn to watch him go, but rather just crossed his arms
and grinned. In front of him, the new day had begun and all he
could do was think how good it already was.

‘Come on, Max!’
Kris called out. ‘Get your fancy shoes over here! It’s crying
time!’

 

1pm, 17
th
December (15 days later).
Committed

 

The bare dirt
and stones beneath their feet radiated heat like they were standing
on an oven. The midday summer sun baked the stark earth, which
coupled with the breeze, stirred up wandering whirly winds that
sent dust swirling around them. Elsa felt the perspiration on her
forehead beading into droplets, ready to streak her reddened face.
Her long sleeve top was already stuck to her back and it felt like
her whole body was preparing to dissolve.

It was hot and
it was humid and it was unpleasant, but they had come for a reason.
This is where it would all happen. This would be the site of their
victory or their doom. This was the arena and it would be their
last visit before fate took centre stage.

Team Max stood
scattered around the barren arena space inside the three-quarter
constructed stands, watching thousands of workmen crawling all over
the growing structures. This was not a modern construction site. It
was an ant colony. Human power ruled here with only two large
cranes in operation. Everything else was being done by many hands
working together. Lifting. Pushing. Cutting and bolting. There was
nothing this workforce could not achieve.

Prime Minister
Tollsen ambled over in his cotton trousers, light long sleeve shirt
and white Panama hat, looking the virtual colonist. ‘Elsa, I would
apologise for the conditions,’ he said, ‘but this is Queensland
after all and well, summer is summer.’

‘I’m glad we
left the kids at home,’ Elsa replied, looking around. ‘How do they
work in this heat?’

‘We treat them
well with short shifts and plenty of food and drink, but yes, their
efforts are remarkable. Despite these conditions and only two weeks
to go, we’re on track for New Year’s Eve. I’m hopeful we’ll have
some grass in the next few days too.’

Joe turned to
Peter who was standing off to the side, surveying the activity.

‘What’s on your
mind, Peter?’ Joe asked.

‘I’m wondering
where you’re going to be sitting,’ Peter replied, his eyes hidden
behind his sunglasses as he scanned the structures.

Joe turned and
lifted a hand toward the northern end of the growing stadium.
‘There will be a row of glass boxes midway up that stand, which
Elsa, Abdullah and I will be accommodated in. I suspect Kris will
want to be closer to the action down at ground level somewhere, but
that will be her choice.’

‘Got room for
me?’ Peter asked.

‘Of course,
Peter. You’re most welcome.’

‘Good,’ Peter
replied, removing his sunglasses and looking at the Prime Minister,
‘because the moment Max sets foot in this arena, I’m out of a job
and then if he goes down in a bout, the next thing I’m doing is
standing in front of you. If this all goes to hell, sir, no one
gets to you unless it’s through me.’

Prime Minister
Tollsen beheld one of the few men he had ever built a true
friendship with, even if it was as his body guard. Joe then removed
his own sunglasses, stepped across and held out his hand. Peter
accepted it and Joe laid his spare hand on top.

‘If
we
go down,’ Joe said, ‘
we
go down side by side. That’s my
promise to you.’

Peter
nodded.

Elsa watched
the exchange and felt goose bumps ripple across her skin. They were
two weeks out and she had witnessed more and more moments such as
these amongst the group and in the staff at the estate. The tension
was rising and everyone was making plans or amends. Suddenly, she
wished she had Millie and Jason with her to wrap them in a cuddle.
Instead, she looked around to find her husband.

Max, Kris and
Abdullah stood in the very heart of the bare arena. Both Max and
Kris were sweating profusely, but Abdullah shimmering in his robes
and sunglasses looked decidedly cool as he stood and listened to
the conversation.

‘I think we do
regularly spaced weapons stations,’ Kris said, turning as she
pointed to various points on the arena boundary, ‘with the same
stock of weapons at each and heaps of them. Like ten of each type
at each station. Ten javelins. Ten swords. Ten of everything. That
way you’ll never run out and you’ll never be far from whatever you
want.’

‘Yeah,’ Max
replied, nodding. ‘Sounds good. As for the boundary itself, I like
the idea of putting a continuous ledge around the whole arena. Make
the bottom half solid concrete, but then the upper half is clear
Perspex set to the back of the concrete beneath it to make a ledge,
which I can use for evasion if I need to. Kind of like what they
have for ice hockey games, so I can use it like a vaulting platform
or running on top of to get away from whatever it is that’s coming
at me.’

‘Yeah, I like
that too,’ Kris added. ‘Gives you a bit of height advantage. Then
the weapons stations can be openings or gates or something in the
Perspex and they can either leave the weapons on the ledge or throw
them out onto the arena surface.’

Max nodded,
also turning to survey the growing stadium. Abdullah continued to
watch and listen in silence, carefully studying Max’s face and
demeanour as he considered how his bouts would unfold and what
advantages he would like.

‘The surface
needs to be grass,’ Max said. ‘Not thick turf, but thinnish and
even. I need to feel the ground beneath my feet and get instant
grip. I don’t want to sink in or rip up divots, so when I change
direction, it’s instantaneous and has no give. If I put my foot
down to start sprinting, I need to be straight into full gear and
not fighting against anything. Not even for a split second.’

‘What about
fake grass?’ Kris asked.

‘It’s a good
idea, but to be honest, I like real grass and I’m more comfortable
on that.’

‘Fair enough,’
Kris said. ‘What shoes are you going to wear?’

‘I was thinking
moulded studs, like touch football shoes.’

‘Orange of
course?’ Kris quipped.

‘Bright as
anything.’

Kris smiled.
‘And other kit?’

‘Hadn’t really
thought about it, but light weight I guess and probably skin
tight,’ Max replied and then turned to Abdullah. ‘Could you get
someone in your secret engineering stable to whip something
up?’

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