Chapter 3

I must have fallen asleep. I’m exhausted enough to sleep for a week, but I can’t tell what time it is in that room with its uniform light. After a while, some female aliens come in and let me out of my cage. They lead me by the arms to a different room with a large hot water pool in the middle.

I step down into it, and they hand me cloths and soap and everything I need for a nice, long bath. I take my time about it. There’s not a male in sight, and I relax into the warm water.

When I finish, they hold up a robe for me to wear. They don’t speak. They communicate everything with gestures. They perfume my hair and rub oil into my skin before draping the robe around my shoulders. Then they wave me toward the door.

At last! I can get out of this horrid place and get some fresh air. I need it, but the minute the door opens, I start thrashing to get away. The alien females grab my arms and hold me prisoner. They’re just as strong as the men.

They wrestle me through the door and push me into a smaller cage. They lock the door, and I’m a prisoner again. Long bars stick out the corners of the cage, and four men lift it and carry it through the streets, between the buildings, and out into the alien city.

For the first time, I catch a glimpse of the planet Aranon. It’s dusty and hot, with sweeping deserts running away in all directions as far as the eye can see. Hundreds upon thousands of aliens line the streets to watch me carried by. They point and shout and dance around. They wave flags and streamers, and music and noise fills the air.

The men carry me through the streets to an enormous colosseum. They parade me through the entrance arch and up flights of stairs to a platform overlooking the arena. Thousands and thousands of Rekyl, with their colorful skin and tentacles, crowd one side of the stadium. Another species sits on the other side, but they’re too far away from me to see very clearly.

I see Rami sitting near me on a golden chair. He wears a circle of shiny silver metal around his head and holds a golden staff in his hand. His eyes run up and down my body when he sees me. “Are you well?”

I can only nod back. I can hardly breathe. His eyes send a quiver through me. He’s thinking about what he’ll do with me after he wins this tournament.

A line of Rekyl in colorful clothing steps into the arena and blasts enormous trumpet-like instruments. The crowd goes wild. They wave their streamers and shout and applaud. I guess that means the tournament is about to start.

The musicians move back and two doors open in opposite sides of the arena. A great lumbering beast with shaggy brown hair and a ring in the end of its nose thunders from each door. This must be the dordon. It gouges the air with its curved horns and paws the ground with massive hooves. A Rekyl sits on the back of one, and the other species, the Zerq, sits on the other.

Each rider holds an enormous club in one hand and the reins in the other. They face off at a distance. Then a horn sounds from somewhere out of sight and the two riders kick their dordons. The beasts race toward each other at top speed. The dordons can move faster than thought when they want to. They barrel toward each other on a collision course, but at the last possible second, the riders rein their animals to one side and swing their clubs.

The Rekyl lands a crushing blow on his enemy’s back, but the Zerq counters and smashes the Rekyl’s head to a bloody pulp. The Rekyl slumps over his beast and falls over on the ground.

Rekyl dart out from the side door and drag the hapless loser out of sight. Someone else grabs his dordon and leads it away. The winning Zerq raises his club in triumph and rides his dordon around the arena in a victory lap. The Zerq in the stands go nuts. They wave their flags and cheer their champion, but when the trumpets sound again, he returns to his place by the door.

Another Rekyl rides out from the other direction, and the two fighters face each other the same way. They charge their dordons at each other, and at the last minute, they veer aside and smash each other with their clubs. This time, the champion Zerq falls, and the Rekyl takes his victory lap, much to the delight of his countrymen in the stands.

I’m starting to see a pattern here, and I catch my breath. I’m not surprised when another Zerq rides out, but the Rekyl defeats him, too. On and on it goes, with first one side winning and then the other. Hour upon hour, they fight and destroy each other. Dozens of men fight and fall, only to be dragged away and replaced by others. They must be running out of men by now.

I’m starting to lose interest, and the heat makes me sleepy when I notice Rami stand up. He sets his scepter on his golden seat and places his crown next to it. “Where are you going?”

“My turn is coming soon. I must get down to the stables and get ready.” He takes a step closer to the cage, and before I can move away, he kisses me through the bars. His tongue slips into my mouth, and his warm saliva sends a thrilling trickle of excitement into my loins. “Wish me luck.”

He hurries away. In an instant, my excitement revives and I watch the match with bated breath. Will he win? What will happen if he doesn’t? I’ll go to the Zerq. I don’t know anything about them. They could be dangerous, and Rami has been so nice to me. He hasn’t been as nice as Axl, but I really hope Rami wins and I go home with him instead of some strange species.

Just then, a new rider comes out of the Rekyl door, and I recognize Itchi. Just for a second, I hope the Zerq smashes his rapist head in so I never have to see him again. I hope he dies a slow, painful death. When the two competitors charge toward each other, though, I change my mind. I wouldn’t wish this fate on my worst enemy. No one should die like this, in bloody violence. I can’t believe anyone can survive this, but I don’t want him dead, either.

The two aliens meet and exchange blows with their clubs. I can’t watch, but I peek through my fingers at the battle. Itchi slams his opponent across the back, and the Zerq almost topples off his dordon. Itchi takes another swing and knocks him across the back of the neck. The Zerq crumples in his saddle, and Itchi moves in for the kill.

He raises his club, but at that moment, the Zerq rallies. He thrusts up with his club and hits Itchi in the chest. Itchi doubles over with a grunt. The Zerq rises in his saddle, and with a vicious downstroke, scatters Itchi’s brains across the ground. Itchi’s body somersaults out of the saddle, and he hits the dust with a thud.

So that’s it. That’s the end of the life of an alien scumbag. I don’t have time to mourn him. The Zerq in the stands erupt in cheers, but the trumpeters cut them off with a magnificent flourish of sound. Before the attendants even have time to haul Itchi out of the way, another rider canters onto the scene. It’s Rami!

The Zerq who defeated Itchi freezes in the middle of his victory lap and glances over his shoulder. He spots Rami moving into position.

A deadly hush falls over the stadium. No one moves. Very slowly, the Zerq defender rides into position facing Rami. I can’t breathe. I grasp the bars of my cage in a white-knuckle grip. I want to tear the place to pieces, to stop the fight, but I can’t move.

Rami reins his dordon into position, and the crowd waits in excited anticipation. Then the trumpet sounds, and the two warriors kick their dordons into a dead run. They thunder toward each other, and their hooves set the whole stadium rumbling.

The crowd explodes into wild cheering as the two fighters meet. They exchange blow for blow. The Zerq knocks Rami sideways in his saddle, and a cry of pain rips from my throat. I’m in a frenzy, but the next minute, Rami counters with a powerful parry. He throws the Zerq out of his saddle. The man hits the dirt, and Rami wheels his dordon on the fallen enemy.

The Zerq tries to regain his feet, but Rami moves faster. He spurs his dordon directly toward the fallen Zerq. The dordon’s hooves strike the man, first in the body and then in the head. Rami reins his dordon back and forth until it tramples the man to death.

In an instant, the stadium falls silent once again. The Zerq lies still. Rami raises his club to the crowd and lets out a deafening bellow. The Rekyl fans answer with cries and happy cheers. They wave their streamers at him and applaud as he rides around the stadium in victory. Zerq attendants drag the loser out of the arena, and I let out a sigh of relief. Rami is the winner! I don’t have to worry about going to someone else now.

The next moment, though, another trumpet sounds. It plays another flourish like the one signaling Rami’s entrance. Rami returns to his place as another Zerq rides into the arena to face him. The Zerq wears colored streamers tied to his clothes, and a golden helmet covers his head. Bells and colored cloth decorate his dordon’s saddle fittings. This can only be the Zerq leader.

Another hush falls over the crowd. Everyone watches in rapt attention when the two champions face off. I don’t have time to think about what will happen if Rami loses this match. The trumpet sounds, and the two men charge at each other with their clubs raised high.

The other fights meant nothing compared to this. The whole crowd watches in rapt silence. This was the moment of truth. Whoever wins this match will go home in triumph―with me.

Rami gains the upper hand first. He rains blows on his adversary and nearly drives him to the ground. He strikes the Zerq in the head, then in the abdomen, and finally a glancing blow off his shoulder. The Zerq can’t react fast enough to return the blows.

At last, Rami brings his club up for the final blow to end the fight. He slams the Zerq hard across the back, and then in the ribs. The Zerq doubles over, and Rami hits him again for good measure. The Zerq crumples on the ground and lays still.

The attendants move in to remove him. Rami spins his dordon around to trample the man the way he did before, but at the last second, the Zerq rears off the ground and grabs Rami by the leg.

Rami kicks his dordon to get away, but the Zerq holds him fast. The dordon plunges away, and the Zerq yanks Rami out of the saddle. Rami’s club falls out of his hand, and before he can recover, the Zerq grapples with him in a death grip.

Neither man can tear himself away to reach his club. Whenever one of them tries to get hold of his weapon, the other holds him back. They punch and kick and slam each other to the ground, but neither can gain the upper hand.

In the end, Rami throws a desperate elbow to the Zerq’s face. He slams the man in the mouth. The Zerq stumbles backward, and in that moment of respite, Rami dashes sideways and grabs his club.

He rounds on the Zerq, but his adversary sees him. The Zerq darts the other way, and both men spin around to face each other with their clubs in their hands. They both swing, and the clubs make contact in mid-air.

The blow rocks the stadium, and a collective gasp runs through the crowd. The warriors swing, and their clubs meet again and again. They shower blows on each other, body for body, but no one can tell who is the stronger fighter. Who will win in the end?

I can’t contain my nervous tension. This moment will determine my future on this planet. I shake the bars in agitation, and every time one of the men lands a blow, I cry out in agony. Each blow strikes my own body with a terrible thud.

Rami swings his club at the Zerq’s head and misses. He spins around, and the Zerq takes advantage of the moment to pound him in the shoulder. Rami staggers away and drops his club. The Zerq moves in to finish him off, but Rami dives for his club. He rolls along the ground and brings up his club just in time to deflect a vicious blow aimed at his head.

With a sweep of his leg, he knocks the Zerq off his feet. The enemy fighter lands hard on his backside. In a flash, Rami leaps to his feet. He strikes his fallen opponent before the Zerq can recover. The club comes down, and a sickening crunch resounds through the stadium.

The crowd watches in stunned silence. The battle is over, and the Zerq lies still. Rami steps forward and brings down his club one more time, just to make sure the enemy does not rise again.

Rami stands over his dead foe. From my place high in the stands, I see his shoulders heaving with his breath. The arm holding his club drops to his side. He’s utterly spent, but the tournament is over. He’s won! My heart leaps in my chest, as much from relief as for joy at his victory.

Awed silence fills the stadium. Rami staggers away from the Zerq. The club dangles from his hand. He casts his eye over the crowd with a fierce glare. Then he raises his club over his head and lets out a spine-chilling roar. He faces first the Zerq spectators and roars his challenge to his people’s enemies.

Then he faces his own people. He roars again and again. He lifts his arms above his head in triumph. Then the Rekyl spectators explode into rapturous cheering. They dance and wave their hands back to Rami. They embrace each other and some wipe away tears. The whole stadium erupts in a frenzy of relieved tension.

I can’t contain myself anymore. I weep and scream and laugh all at the same time, but the Rekyl cut my joy short when the same four men surround my cage and lift it off the ground. With no more ceremony, they carry me out of the stadium. No one notices me leave.