Love, Life and The Old Stench of Luck

1. Strictly Eggs“Competitive eating?” called Stork, leaning back on his wings against the wall. “With boiled eggs? And I have to swallow how many?” “Forty,” said the excited Turr man. Sabienn saw he had the long elegant ears like those that belonged to Turrland people and these ears were red with excitement. “Hardly a challenge really. Not for a man like you. We’ve watched you. Look, can we get off the street?” The man turned to his two Turr friends hovering excitedly beside him then addressed Stork again. “Buy us a coffee? We’ll explain everything.” Sabienn Feel pushed his hand through his long dark hair and watched the exchange between the Turrs and his brother. He would normally be suspicious but this event being proposed would get him and his brothers into the celebrated inner area of the Green Zone, this important capital of the Outer Territory Province of Luck. He looked back at his other brothers, Deep and Bray viewing the exchange suspiciously, yet they all followed the group willingly looking for a beverage. “Sending a wrong message?” whispered Sabienn to Bray. “In a country where half its people are starving?” said Bray, shaking his curly head and rolling his eyes. “Not at all.” “Speaking of eating,” said Deep, bringing his towering figure in close. “I’m with you, brother,” said Sabienn, retrieving the final orders of his mentor Grey Cape delivered only a few hours ago by Grey Cape’s dog Giles. While he could, in the diminishing light of their first day in Luck, Sabienn let his eyes glance once more over its contents and read it quickly once again to himself to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. The words bounced off the page as he read. “Most of my misgivings have been expressed in the last communication. These here are strange times.” “The city that you find yourself in is divided into two. The inner city and the outer. I don’t have any special pass for you. You must try and seek access within the walls.” “To find your subject, a man known as ‘Impatient Ben’, you will need an airship, the terminal of which is only accessible from the inner city. As stated previously, you seek a bottle of sleeping pills, hopefully still sealed, for a read. The gentleman resides in a town within the hills district called Tall Trees. Much I’ve already stated. I’ll leave it to your judgement. It’s considered a good lead to find the missing stone we seek.” “As previously stated, this involvement with Luck comes at an important time for the Grand Inquisitor Profound, your Father who, in latest dispatches, has become even more committed to killing you. The thirty year lease is due and the Treaty is to be reviewed. Hayddland desperately wants to take this territory from Deerland. Should Luck fall to Hayddland, get out before the army arrives.” “The world has the serenity of an unpinned grenade. Good luck and stay safe.” Sabienn retrieved from his pocket a salt sachet and broke it open to sprinkle white crystal on the paper. He then scrunched the note into a ball and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the taste as it eased itself down on its journey to his stomach. The area that Sabienn and his brothers moved through had enough retail on display to give a feeling of safety. But he’d felt this way before just before entrapment. “Eyes up, Bray,” said Sabienn. “Trust no-one.” “I’m on it,” responded Bray, keeping his eyes moving around. The Turr men led them all to a table of an outside café where an attendant duly waited upon them. The Turr man who appeared to be the leader, turned to Stork and offered a pathetic smile. “You’re paying. You order,” he said. “What?” called Stork undiplomatically. “I’ve only known you a minute and the hands already into my pocket.” “Seven coffees,” offered Sabienn to the attendant pleasantly. The orders were taken and the Turr man bent in to confide with Stork. “My name is Idiz,” said the Turr man. “I challenge for the pig.” He stated this in a manner that he believed would explain everything. Sabienn shared a bemused look with his brothers. “We all have our pursuits,” said Bray. Sabienn offered a look to his brother to bring the sarcasm back in on a rein. “You offer access for my brother to enter the inner city?” said Sabienn indicating Stork. “Does that extend to all of us?” “Of course,” said Idiz, dusting down the cloak on his short thin frame. “A good man needs a team. You’re signed in and signed out.” The coffee arrived which he accepted graciously. “Forgive me. You don’t seem to be aware of what we’re doing.” “I see the skeleton,” said Stork, dusting his shoe as he sat. “If you could just fill in the guts.” “To be honest, we’ve only arrived,” said Sabienn to the Turr men. “We’re fresh off the airship this afternoon.” “This should explain it, Idiz,” said one of the other Turr men to his friend. He indicated a poster in the window of the café; an inviting orange and blue poster advertising an event to be held within the walls called “The Contest of Rare Manhood and Strength”. It boasted a heroic portrait of a Turr man with great ears and a well-styled haircut naked but for swimming trunks. He held a pose of an idealized masculine physique standing with rippling biceps and triceps, outstanding legs and a well-formed six-pack for his belly. Casually Sabienn moved his seat in closer to the poster so he could get a better look. It was a cheerful advertisement promising excitement and gifts for the willing who achieve success. Reading the same poster, Bray sparked up, “Seems like it’s just men. Weightlifting. Fighting. Pulling a cart with your teeth. Running. Jumping. Push-ups. And Eating.” “There’s individual and relay,” said Idiz helpfully. “My friends and I are a team. But my brother. Huh. My poor brother couldn’t get through the first gate. Measles. Who’d have thought he’d come down now? It’s left us short. My brother was opening mouth. He went number one. Then there’s me. Then there’s Kenzoo. Then Lefty.” Idiz indicated his friends in turn. “It’s simple,” chimed in Kenzoo. “We’re eggs. Strictly eggs. No ribs. Four teams contest for the eggs. One gets the money but two and three get a live pig to take home.” “You’ve worked the odds?” said Sabienn. “You’re not here to win?” “We haven’t agreed yet,” said Stork, still suspicious of their intent. “What else are you doing tonight?” said Kenzoo. “You’re going to sit in your hotel room instead of being in an arena under the gaze of President Ramm? You’re travellers. I’m sensing adventure in you.” “Yeah. But food,” said Bray indicating Stork. “Food is sacred to this man. He doesn’t shovel it. He savours.” “Not what we saw,” said Idiz, indicating his friends. “We were walking up the street studying everyone. We saw him eat. It was two bread-rolls one after the other. Beautiful technique. It was both disgusting and inspirational.” “It’s an egg,” said Lefty, moving in on the right. “Just hold your nose and bounce on your toes. Let it slide then pick up the next.” “One thing is important,” said Idiz. “He needs to look like us,” said Kenzoo. “You need to wear fake ears.” “I haven’t agreed,” said Stork more definitely. With earnest eyes Sabienn studied the poster once again. “There’s an event here for push-ups,” he said. “Deep, that’s more up your alley.” “Want to win us a pig?” added Bray with humour to their tall muscular brother. “I’m game,” called Deep with a smile. “I’m feeling rusty. I could use a stretch.” Sabienn turned to Idiz and spoke, “Bring us an extra pair of ears and enter our brother in the push-ups. Then I think you’ve got a deal.” “What?” Stork looked bemused that his position had been overridden. But now that Deep had volunteered, he had no choice but fall into line. “Lead on,” said Sabienn to Idiz. The group were in fine spirits as they finished their beverages and were quick to move off from their table but for a dragging Stork. Sabienn followed a rapidly moving Idiz, who noticed a pharmacy up the street and donned his hood to access. Seeing this, Sabienn and his brothers followed suit. When they got to the door Sabienn could see this store was packed with people but predominantly men. And they were all going to the same aisle. An attendant moved close to and addressed Idiz without any interest. “Sir, Ears?” “Yes,” said Idiz. “I’m required to ask a question,” continued the attendant. “Any humans amongst you?” “No,” replied Idiz, with mock indignation. “Thank you,” said the attendant, moving away with all the satisfaction of having ticked a box. Sabienn could see the aisle full of Turr men all pulling down boxes displaying cosmetic Turr ears. To him it seemed the larger more elaborate ears were more valued. And there were men trying on ears that they had purchased looking like mountain animals with sturdy antler outcrops admiring themselves in a nearby mirror. “These men are here for the event?” whispered Sabienn to Idiz. “Yes, sir,” said Idiz in reply. “And win a woman. Why don’t you wait outside?” Slyly Sabienn pushed a wad of prime bills across to Idiz. “Get us some antlers,” said Sabienn. “Make us look like we’re in a contest.” Sabienn led his brothers out the door of the store and gathered them in for a huddle on the footpath. “Impressions?” asked Sabienn. “Not good,” said Stork. “It’s all muscle and brawn. It’s not me.” “I’m art and logic,” said Bray plainly. “I’m out of the race.” “Only man who looks like he fits is Deep,” said Stork. “I don’t fit,” said Deep plainly. “I just want the exercise.” “Even if we get in the gate, they’ll keep us in a pen and push us back out,” said Bray. “Yeah, what’s the point?” said Stork. “Like the man said,” said Sabienn. “What else are we doing tonight?” In due course, Idiz and his friends joined them again and Stork and Deep got to try on the ears that were bought. They found a secluded alcove of a doorway to preen and place them into better position and saw their reflection back in the door glass. Sabienn watched both men wiggling their heads admiring their new appendages. “It’s worth the ticket of entry to watch this pair,” said Bray to Sabienn. Within half an hour the men found themselves at the entertainer’s entrance to what appeared to Sabienn to be a small stadium. It wasn’t a stadium as he knew back in Hayddland or anything he’d seen in Deerland, fit for football or racket-ball. And it certainly wasn’t as huge as Salt Stadium where he went to see The Great Leader a few months ago. The outside of this arena had a feel of being ancient. Stone brick walls rose to a height of four storeys and formed a circle or oval in shape at the base. It would probably hold about ten thousand at a stretch. His first impression was of a stone auditorium for outdoor theatre. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this place,” said Sabienn to his brothers as they moved quickly along the street towards it. “You most certainly have,” said Bray definitely. “Think of the fruit markets outside Salt. Imagine the top layers ripped off. They’re still meeting places for the natives. Left in ruins to show the humans won.” There was a sudden recognition in Sabienn as he remembered the fruit and food markets that he had inhabited back in Salt, in the motherland of Hayddland. He had glimpses of his old life back at the Academy, almost as if they were memories from another planet. His old mentor Captain Randd, the Captain’s daughter Tesser and their faithful native servant Cheerful had accompanied him on many visits. The circular market area was a place of commerce, activity and bustling joy where he had bought many oranges, olives and dates for Tesser, who was as he remembered her then, an excited and inquisitive seven year-old. “We had one up at Coriander,” continued Bray. “The tops were ripped off by a wrecking ball. Thousands of years ago.”