Max Arena (43 page)

Max sucked in two lung
s of precious air and then said, ‘Next
time. At least we gave the viewers a good show. Hey, that ice thing
was cool. Where’d you get that idea from?’

‘
Me, but it was Abdullah’s very clever boys
who made it. Those guys are awesome.’

‘
You got that right,’ Max replied, his
breathing already completely smoothed out. Holding up the sword in
his right hand, he added, ‘Did his boys make this sword
too?’

‘
Sure did and it’s all your’s. Got another
surprise for you too,’ Kris added, eyeing off Max.

‘Am I going to like it?’ Max asked, eyeing
Kris right back.

‘
Don’t know, but Abdullah, Joe, Elsa and I
had a huddle up yesterday and we made an executive
decision.’

‘And?’

‘You’re starting weapons training today,’
Kris said carefully, watching Max for a reaction.

Max paused and held his gaze on Kris. He then
lifted the sword and looked slowly up and down the length of the
blade, its pristine, silver surface shimmering in the sun. Then
without looking back at Kris, Max said, ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’

Kris let out a silent breath. She then turned
and waved back at the Pain Train to her assistants, who in turn
scurried inside.

‘Good,’ Kris said. ‘I was worried you
wouldn’t be happy about picking up a weapon yet.’

‘Got to start some time,’ Max replied,
looking back at her. ‘Probably needed a bit of a nudge anyway, so
thanks. How’s this going to work?’

‘
Check out the Pain Train,’ Kris replied.
‘Here come your instructors.’

Max glanced over to the bright orange
truck and trailer and saw five men walking across the lawn towards
him, all of them wearing white, martial arts
dogi
and carrying bladed weapons of varying shapes and
sizes.

‘
Have fun,’ Kris added. ‘I’ll see you in a
bit.’

Max nodded and stayed silent. Kris could
sense Max already shifting his focus to the new challenge coming
his way. She smiled. Turning away, she walked briskly across to the
Pain Train
herself and
jogged up the ramp of the trailer. Popping her sunglasses up onto
her cap brim, she headed towards the back of the space, to find her
lap top resting on a wooden box. Flipping the lid open, Kris
diligently entered some notes for the training session and then
started analysing the data compared to all of the earlier sessions
to track Max’s performance.

There was no doubt. While his efforts had
steadily improved session on session over the last few months,
Max’s results over the
last week had jumped incredibly. He was performing out of
his skin. It was like he had found another piston or two inside of
himself and thrown in a turbo charger and some nitrous as well. Max
was almost at superhuman levels in everything he did.

Since the impromptu duels in the city last
week, something had changed. Outside of training, Max was the same
old Max, but as soon as he laced on those orange shoes, he became,
well, not human and perhaps that was it. Maybe Max had actually
become less human in recent days and more alien.

Abdullah had asked her if she had
witnessed any difference in him since the incident
in the city and well, the
numbers in front of her proved it. Max was pushing himself to
Olympic levels and would probably be smashing world records all
over the place before the arena came up.

‘
Salaam
Alaykum
,’ Abdullah said.
‘Good morning, Kris.

Kris flicked her gaze up to find Abdullah
standing on the threshold of the ramp.

‘
Your Highness,’ Kris said in
return
, a smile suddenly
filling her face. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘
I came to see exactly how you planned on
punishing Max with three tonnes of dry ice and have not been
disappointed,’ he replied, his gentle rolling tone melodious to her
ears.

Kris’ smile widened and she pulled the lid of
the lap top down.

Stepping out from behind the box and
walking up to him, she said, ‘Good to hear and thanks again for
organizing it. CNN sure got a good show.’

‘
Your tests today were clever. You tested
not only Max’s speed and agility, but also his ability to think
quickly and strategically by needing to plan a means to get through
the ice at pace. Very clever indeed.’

A blush started to form on Kris’ face.
Quickly pulling her sunglasses off her cap
and down over her eyes, she stepped past
Abdullah and walked down the ramp and past two of his hulking body
guards at the base.

‘Thank you,’ she said more abruptly than she
liked. ‘Now let’s see how he’s getting on with that new sword you
made for him.’

Abdullah smiled and turned to follow Kris
out onto the grass and into the warm sun. Together they walked
towards where Max, with sword in hand, stood encircled by all five
of his instructors, their swords raised. Keeping a very clear
distance, Kris and Abdullah stopped. Abdullah moved up next to Kris
just as one of the instructors began demonstrating to Max, how to
move his feet and shift his balance in tune with his sword to
contend with multiple attackers.

‘May I ask if you have noticed any
significant differences in Max’s performance over this last week?’
Abdullah asked.

‘
You bet,’ Kris replied, half turning to
face Abdullah, but not taking her eyes off Max and his tuition.
‘His normal rate of improvement has gone off the charts this last
week.’

‘An example?’

‘
Well, if he’d been running in the Olympic
one hundred metres today, he would’ve come second, just, whereas
last week he would’ve struggled to even make a semi-final. He’s
also lifting heavier. Max is squatting, bench pressing and dead
lifting much more than he was two weeks ago. I also reckon he’s
more agile and nimble now too. He’s always been pretty good on his
feet and in the air, but now he tumbles and flips and somersaults
like mad. All round, Max is more athletic now than ever before and
I have to say, still improving and that’s, well…’

Abdullah allowed Kris to pause, but then
realised she had stopped all together.

‘And that’s what?’ he asked carefully.

Kris let her gaze drop from Max’s sword
training to the ground.

‘It doesn’t seem natural,’ Kris finally
added. ‘It doesn’t seem…human.’

Abdullah flicked his gaze to Kris who was
still half lost in thought.

‘
That is because,’ Abdullah began, ‘Max
is
not
all together
human.’

‘
I know,’ Kris said, regaining her
composure and looking back up to find Max practicing a parry and
thrust sequence with his sword. ‘I know he’s half alien, but now
it’s starting to become obvious and I guess it’s a little off
putting. He’s always had this serious, purpose-like mood he gets
into when he trains and that’s good because you know he’s giving it
his all, but now, that purpose-like mood has ratcheted up to…well,
something more like
rage. If I didn’t know it was Max out there, I’d probably
be scared of him. I saw Peter’s video of him fighting those three
goons the other day and that
did
scare me. I’ve never seen him like that and how he looked
when he killed those three men, I can see that same look in his eye
now when he trains and if that’s what his alien side brings out,
then maybe I should be scared? Maybe we should all be scared? Who
knows what he’s capable of, especially now that I know he’s
probably going to break every single athletics world record in the
book in the next couple of weeks and on top of that, he’s just
picked up a sword. What if his alien side takes over again? He
could…’

Kris trailed off and fell silent.
Abdullah stepped forward and
around to face Kris squarely. Lifting his sun glasses to his
forehead, he reached out and grasped her hand. The contact was
gentle and soft and Kris did not flinch. Instead she looked into
the Sheikh’s hazel coloured eyes and found instant
comfort.

‘
Max is both of this world
and of another,’ Abdullah
started, ‘and we need him to be both human and Nar’gellan at the
same time. However, that has proven difficult for him up until now.
The duels in the city last week brought his Nar’gellan instincts to
the fore and when he unleashed those instincts, he finally realised
what he is capable of. He can kill. The challenge for him now is to
integrate the killing, blood lust instincts of his alien genetics
with his human emotions. In effect he needs to balance his thirst
to kill with his human compassion and reason. Only then will he be
able to truly unleash and control his physical skills and compete
in the arena. Max now knows what he needs to do to become what he
was destined to be.’

‘And what is that?’ Kris asked. ‘What is he
destined to be?’

‘
Either the champion who saves humanity and
frees
the Nar’gellan
race or,’ Abdullah said and paused briefly, ‘the tragic warrior
doomed to die a glorious, but ultimately hopeless death. God only
knows which.’

Kris looked down again, her face drawn and a
little pale.

Abdullah smiled and squeezed her hand
gently.

‘
In the mean time,’ he said, ‘I can assure
you that you have nothing to fear from Max. His dramatic
improvements in the last week are evidence that he is in control.
He is no danger to us or anyone else. He is adapting and he is
adapting well. I think we are in for an exciting time and I envy
you for being so close to him.’

Kris let a little smile crinkle the
corners of her mouth. Abdullah let her hand go and stepped back to
her side. Kris felt the warmth of his touch linger slightly on her
hand. She
also realised
her heart was beating just a bit faster too.

Suddenly, one of the five instructors
flashed forwards, an oblique strike of his sword slicing down
towards Max’s back. Max deftly turned and deflected the strike away
and
then subtly shifted
his weight to repel another instructor’s strike from his left side.
One by one in a seemingly random sequence around the circle, each
instructor attacked and each time, Max ably defended
himself.

On and on the series of attacks continued
with Max deflecting blow after blow, his style smooth and rhythmic.
Kris stood mesmerized by the fluidity of the thrusting and
parrying, transfixed by the dance of the six men as they integrated
with no give or take. In contrast, Abdullah focused keenly on Max
himself, studying his movements, but more particularly, his
face.

Max’s attention was as sharp as his blade.
His spatial awareness almost preternatural as he anticipated every
attack, regardless of if he could actually see it or if it was
coming from behind. His natural skill with the sword was uncanny,
but this skill coupled with his instincts made him impenetrable.
However, there was a problem.

Abdullah held up his hand and cried out,
‘Stop!’

Immediately, all five instructors
shouldered their swords and stepped back. Max froze, his body still
tensed for any attack and his eyes searching. In his right hand,
his sword shone like a mirror in the sun, his grasp firm and
surgically steady.

Abdullah glided forwards across the grass
towards the group, while Kris looked on. Max lowered his sword and
turned to look at
his
friend.

‘
Max,’ Abdullah said, ‘i
t would seem you have a natural talent in
wielding a sword and that sword in particular suits you very well.
Like a glove if you will?’

‘Yeah,’ Max replied. ‘It feels good.’

‘And you move very well,’ Abdullah continued.
‘Your footwork and balance allow you to use your speed and strength
to considerable advantage. The five gentlemen surrounding you right
now are five of the finest swordsmen in the world and I assure you,
their attacks in this exercise are nothing less than full blooded.
Your defense is excellent, but I note, that is all you are doing.
Defending yourself. May I ask why you have not attacked in
return?’

‘I might be good,’ Max said in return, ‘but
there’s only so much I can do with one sword against five blokes. I
can’t get ahead of them.’

Abdullah nodded silently.

‘As I suspected,’ he said. ‘So, let us give
you your wish. Inspect the hilt.’

Max cocked his head at Abdullah and
paused.

‘
Go ahead,’ Abdullah pushed, gesturing to
Max’s weapon. ‘Inspect the hilt.’

Max lifted the hilt of his sword up to
waist level and did as he was instructed.

‘You will find under the rear of the hilt,’
Abdullah added, ‘a small touch pad, which you can activate with
your thumb by quickly adjusting your grip. The touch pad will only
function via your thumb print, making it ineffective to any other.
Press it.’

Max dipped the tip of the sword down, so
he could look under the hilt. There it was. A small, orange circle,
which he could indeed depress if he switched his thumb to the back
of the handle and pushed up. Raising his sword back up, Max nudged
the touchpad with his right thumb.

Instinctively, his left hand shot up to catch
the handle of the new weapon that shot out sideways. In the blink
of an eye, Max now held in each hand, identical swords that just a
moment ago had been joined into one.