Zion

Chapter 10

 A giant, curvaceous stadium with a stone grey shell and light blue and pink trimmings, lies ahead. It stands ludicrously against the squalor ridden backdrop of the sector and after the main sector entrance, is seemingly the most guarded and secure of places. Apart from the high exterior fencing and the armed guards dressed in black, sporting impressive arsenals of weapons, there are also military bots that patrol the building itself.

The two pull up to the main entrance which dons an arch above with the words ‘Cantil’s Arena’ proclaimed in a brilliant marble façade. A guard ushers them through and the gate reverts to a menacing red which bars any unwelcome lurkers longing to sneak into the Arena during off-hours.

They glide up to the garages and the metallic blast doors split apart after one final biometric scan. They pull into the large parking area lined with rows of many other vehicles which seemingly all belong to Cantil. The machines are extravagant pieces of engineering. Which range from basic flying cars to large robotic exoskeletons that stand meters in the air and are armed with giant melee weapons and firearms.

Six, chrome red robotic guards enter from a concealed entrance ahead and Acera notes their cleanliness and modernistic appearance. They stand seven feet tall and their polished exteriors closely resemble the human body. Their pyramidal charcoal-black heads, with no noticeable features, are the biggest sign that they were designed distinctly for work purposes and making them appear more human was unnecessary for their duty. However, looking at their sharp-edged tops moving side to side in a smooth and human-like manner is unsettling, even to Acera. The guards request that at this time, they follow them to Cantil’s lounge, as he is expecting them.

They enter a large lift that whisks them up to the top floor. Along the circumference of this floor is the private residence of Cantil. He is loved by all the people of Perfunctory as he offers them the entertainment that they crave. He offers them escape from the mundane drab and purposelessness that fills their day to day struggle for survival.

Cantil is a highly flamboyant man and yet mysterious, as he is renowned for hiding out in the solace of his penthouse above the great arena. He is somewhat of a recluse, only gracing people of social importance, or those swaddled in money, with his presence. He has yellow hair, dotted with blue rings, that has been styled to resemble the very same octopus which resides in his wall to wall aquarium. His eyes have been dyed a reddish tint and his tailored suit is made from the scales of cantil snakes. He sits now in a lavish lounge surrounded by a waiting staff of trans-robotic humans. They are young women who are completely human, except for their brains which have been replaced by preprogrammed processing units. They stand strategically around the room, ready to attend to Cantil’s every need. Dressed in near-transparent, tight-fitting tops which bubble at the shoulder and are lined with neon trimmings, the girls blend right into the cyberpunk lounge. Acera watches a young waitress sidle up to them to offer each a glass of thick, clear liquid. Lucile accepts, but Acera declines with a polite wave of oos’ hand. She bows slightly and goes to stand back in her allocated spot; her slender bare legs, elegantly holding her up.

Cantil rises from his perch on a bear skin couch and greets Lucile with a kiss to the hand. He flicks his forked tongue and gestures for Lucile to take a seat next to him.

“Please sit,” he hisses.

Everything about him oozes slippery charm.

“Thank you Cantil, but first, I must go and freshen up in my quarters, before we get too comfortable,” Lucile says sultrily.

Acera stands in the back, not sure what to make of this place. The lighting, scents, and people, although more pleasant than those down in the slums below, still make oos feel unsettled and fidgety. Acera tries to conceal this, but Cantil is more receptive than he appears.

“By all means,” he says and grins repellently at Acera; flashing his golden pistol, that is holstered to his hip, as a warning of some kind, “I shall entertain your friend in the meantime.”

Lucile leaves off and Acera is left in the company of this stranger. Oos notes that the crimson guards are still present in the room and this seems an odd thing, considering how comfortable Cantil is with Lucile being here. Perhaps though, it is more likely that they are there on account of Acera’s presence.

“Acera? I take it,” Cantil says with foreknowledge, as he thrusts out his hand to shake Acera’s. Oos notices the small black triangle, tattooed on the man’s wrist and wonders if there is any significance to it.

“Lucile has mentioned you on a few occasions. She says your training has been exemplary.”

Cantil returns to his seat and picks up a silver tube which he sucks on and exhales a puff of baby blue smoke. Acera discretely reaches around to ensure that oos’ swords are in fact still secured to oos’ back. There is an uncomfortable silence during this time before Cantil speaks again.

“Now as well-practiced as you may be with those instruments of death, I must insist that you hand them over to my guards. They will take good care of them, I promise,” he pauses. “We would just hate for someone to get hurt.”

One of the guards approaches Acera and accepts the swords from oos who reluctantly hands them over.

“See that wasn’t too difficult, now was it?” Cantil says.

Acera does not reply and remains standing, hoping that Lucile will return soon. This place makes oos feel more and more discomforted by the moment and Cantil is a sort of specimen which Acera never expected to come across. Oos is not sure what oos expected to find once arriving at the hidden Homo sapiens sectors, but so far it has been far stranger. The dress codes, architectural styling and even the amount of Speak-Talk, seem highly unnatural and invalidated.

“Do you like my arena,” Cantil asks assumingly.

“It is, interesting,” Acera says sounding disinterested.

“I built it myself. Well actually robotic and slave labor did the actual construction, but it was my vision entirely,” he says and presses a button on a control in front of him. The milky-white windows turn to a clear see-through and Cantil guides Acera over to take a look at his pride and joy.

“From above,” he says pointing skywards, “the structure was designed to resemble the exterior labia of a woman.”

“It was to emphasize his love for the brutal art of human s*******r,” Lucile adds.

Acera spins around relieved to have her back with oos, but is struck with horror. Lucile stands opposite them, but this is not the same old, crippling woman who nurtured and trained Acera and she is surely not the same person oos came here with. Her hair is fiery red, long and flowing. It comes just short of her young, voluptuous breasts that hang firmly against a loose silk gown that she has changed into. Her skin is as smooth and pure as pearls and her cheeks are alive with a rose-pink.

“Lucile?” Acera stammers.

“Yes Acera, what is it?” she says calmly and stares at oos innocently.

“You… you cha –”

“I changed, yes. I couldn’t stand to stay in that armor another moment. You must forgive me Cantil for taking my time, but you know a woman does like to indulge in the revitalizing creams and perfumes that you have to offer.”

“Of course,” Cantil says and takes a swig of the clear liquid in his glass, “I was just showing our new friend the view of our domain.”

“Our?” Acera asks still bewildered by what oos has just witnessed. This is all beginning to feel like a dream. Dreams are not ideal even when one is asleep; they are confusing and unnerving at the best of times. To have reality feel the same way is a terrifying sensation to oos.

“Yes. Lucile and I are somewhat like partners. I organize the events and Lucile helps to find our main attractions.”

Acera ponders the possible outcomes of the remainder of this already strange evening and asks, “And what is it that these events involve?”

Lucile goes and sits with Cantil and places her hand on his upper thigh. Her luscious lips are enchanting to watch, but what she says makes little to no sense.

“You see, here in Perfunctory, Virtual Reality is a thing of the past. People know that it’s fake and although they can experience the wonders of heavenly worlds by plugging into various platforms, they always have to come back to their reality and let’s be honest, it’s a pretty f*****g miserable one. So instead they derive satisfaction from crowding here and relishing in the misery of others,” she says and drags on her own silver canister which releases a purple plume of smoke.

“So this is why I am here?” Acera utters, feeling for the first time the true meaning of betrayal.

Cantil leans forward and straightens his jacket, it makes an odd slithering sound and Acera does not like it.

“It’s simple; people pay to watch the winner, who keeps their life and slowly gains favour and the loser who is usually roasted on a spit and eaten by the peasants of the crowd; everybody wins.”

“So I am to be one of these contenders,” Acera spits out.

“Well,” Lucile explains, “as, like all great sporting events, this one is more often than not, rigged. You will be entered in as my fighter along with local peasants and the fighters of our VIP guests who will then bet on who they feel, is most likely to be crowned champion.”

So this is what humans are truly like, Acera thinks. They reel you in with a tempting offer that you cannot refuse and then prey on your vulnerability once you offer them that foolish thing called trust. So death may well take hold of Acera, before oos even manages to get past the first checkpoint in oos’ journey; so much for a guided trek through the harsh landscape which is known as humanity. No wonder Perfects exist; never would such treachery be able to exist back in Zion.

“You lied,” Acera says fishing for the correct word to describe Lucile’s wrongdoing, “You told me that we –”

“I told you that I would train you and bring you here; I’ve upheld my side of the bargain. Don’t whine just because you didn’t bother to consider the terms and conditions,” she snaps back and laughs in oos’ face.

“And if I say no?”

“Well then this is goodbye,” Lucile says and simultaneously the guards converge on Acera, their weapons raised and ready to fire once given the order.

Acera must think fast or else this may well be oos’ demise. The guards are upon oos and their dark pyramid heads gaze ominously at oos. Acera lunges forward and grabs hold of Lucile. Oos drags her away, backing up towards the nearest wall, which neon lights flicker and float along. The waitresses leave and Cantil climbs to his feet. He does not seem too fazed. Lucile clearly does not mean that much to him or else he would have done something by now. Acera keeps a firm grip around Lucile’s slender neck and makes sure to keep her in the line of fire if it is to come to that. If she is foolish enough to double-cross a Perfect, then she must be prepared to suffer the consequences.

Her slim fingers reach up to Acera’s large forearms and she gets a sudden and tight hold. She pulls forward and flings Acera over her shoulder. Oos lands, hard. The floor cracks on impact and Acera is left immobile. Lucile pulls out a mini Vaporizer from her hip holster and presses it against Acera’s chest.

“Ever cross me again,” Lucile utters, livid, “and I shall tear you limb from limb without so much as a second thought.”

She steps back, breathing deeply. Her eyes fill with anger and hatred for being made a fool of in front of others. She holsters her weapon, seizes Acera’s left arm, braces it against her upper thigh and snaps it in two.