Artificial Arrogance

Will Reva choose her freedom or her revenge?

Sitting alone in the prep room, Reva wrapped a thin strip of cloth across her knuckles and pulled the knot tight with her teeth. The metal lockers around her were silent soldiers preventing her escape. Not that she could flee. The iron cuff around her wrist ensured that if she crossed any of the stadium’s unapproved doorways, she’d be jolted and tossed in the ring anyway. It was best to save her energy.

The door slid open, drenching the room in white light and the excited chatter of the outside crowd. The door snapped shut again, but Reva wasn’t alone. Oxway had strolled in wearing a pressed suit with buttons made of the shiny blue gemstones she'd been digging out of the mines for the better part of a decade. Everyone knew him as the happy new face of Alaris Industries. Reva knew him as a snake. She stood and readied herself.

She was only on one fight card tonight, but it wouldn’t stop her from going after the man who truly deserved her rage.

Oxway slipped his hands inside his pockets. “Sit down, Reva. You think I’m going to dirty my suit for you?”

Reva didn’t move. “I think you’d dirty yourself for anyone with enough cash.”

Oxway smiled through the tick in his jaw. “Do you know who you’re up against tonight?”

“I make it a point of it not to know who I’m sending to the medic,” she answered. Tonight was not her first, nor would it be her last fight for the entertainment of the rich and powerful. No one expected her victory two years ago, and the Small Criminal that Could kept surprising people—either by filling or emptying their pockets depending on how they betted.

Of course, Reva never saw that money. Winnings earned her slightly better digging equipment, maybe an extra roll at dinner, and the peaceful sleep that came with everyone else knowing she could kick their ass. All priceless things in the prison camp.

“His name is Ivar,” Oxway said. “From the Canublex.”

Reva tried to hide her surprise. “That money-soaked star system?”

“The very one.”

“What’d he do?” Reva couldn’t think of any crime that would send some rich prick to the stadium. She’d been paraded through the shadows long enough to know those with money hardly got a slap on the wrist for things that would send others to the mines for a year.

“Clean as a whistle,” Oxway answered. “Invited to play by Alaris Industries.”

Reva bristled. This wasn’t a game. Each time she was dragged from her cell and brought here was a fight for her life. Games had rules and happy endings; the stadium had neither.

“He needs to win,” Oxway said.

“Shouldn’t you be giving him this pep talk then?”

“You’re going to let him win.”

Reva blinked. “No shot.”

Oxway pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it toward Reva.

Her mouth dried reading the legal statement. “This is a lie.”

Oxway grinned like a viper. “Who’s going to believe a convicted felon like you?”

Reva crumbled the paper and tossed it at his feet. There were now rules to this game. If Ivar didn’t walk out of the ring a champion tonight, then Reva’s time in the mines would be extended because of another crime she didn’t commit.

“How do you sleep at night?” she spat.

Oxway’s grin didn’t slip. “Very well, actually.”

They had once shared a thin mattress in the back of a fuel station. Oxway had traded her for the peaceful nights while Reva slept on a stone floor. She exhaled a hot breath through her nose. She doubted his cruelty then. It wasn’t a mistake she’d make a second time.

“You’re nearing the end of your sentence, right?” Oxway asked.

Reva shrugged. She didn’t need him knowing she counted down every day as exhaustion pulled her into unconsciousness each night.

“You’re going to let that go because of this?” Oxway twirled his hand around them. Behind the walls, Reva heard the chanting of her name. She’d become a bit of a celebrity inside and outside the ring. “Throw the fight, Rev.”

“Why’s it so important that Ivar win?”

Oxway shrugged, slipping his hands back into his pockets. “He’s valuable to Alaris.”

She had once been valuable to Oxway, and look where that got her.

A red light in the corner flashed, signaling Reva had two minutes before her match.

“You’re a smart girl, Reva,” Oxway stepped back toward the door he came through. “Do what’s right for yourself. For once.”

Reva stored away her anger just before her handler arrived. She didn’t share many words, but he was always kind, a luxury she never forgot. He gave her the mandatory pat down and, after finding no hidden weapons, led her to the arena. The crowd erupted at the sight of her, and drones buzzed around her, filling the many screens floating around the stadium with her face. She smiled and waved, even blew a kiss to someone screaming that he loved her.

In the beginning, she had played the part; pretending that she loved their attention and praise. Now, she lapped it up like a thirsty dog. She had earned their praise. She liked feeling like their god. For a few minutes every other week, she wasn’t a caged prisoner digging away in the mines. She was their battle star. All eyes were on her.

She ducked under the ropes and entered the ring. Her opponent, Ivar, stood opposite her, looking more suited for a fancy, well-lit gym or a business meeting for the next big thing in protein powder. On the scenes, his muscles glimmered under the light and freshly applied oil. From a distance, he did look intimidating, but up-close Reva saw the truth. His arms looked like giant balloons that were easily breakable.

He was a walking advertisement for some new body modification.

She grinned, understanding Oxway’s visit. Ivar was going to lose without a little intervention from his benefactors. Whatever was riding on this match was worth something to Oxway, but Reva hadn’t decided if it was worth that much to her.

The bell rang and Reva sprang forward, picturing Oxway’s handsome face transplanted on top of Ivar’s.

He was better prepared than Reva expected, grabbing her mid-jump and tossing her onto the mat. Her head bounced against the hard leather. She rose, ignoring the spots in her vision. His frame, even fake, was big enough for her to see through the haze. Pulling herself together, she delivered a quick set of japs into his stomach before spinning away.

Ivar laughed and stumbled toward her, his thick hands reaching out like she was some plaything and not a warrior. He shoved her into the ropes, their coils pinching her skin, and Reva dove to the ground on his right. As she sprang back up, Ivar kicked back and launched her into the ropes on the other side. The crowd roared. The lights flashed. Ivar knocked his fists together.

“They said you were the best,” Ivar said in his thick Canublex accent. “I’m glad I didn’t believe them.”

It was clear his arrogance wasn’t artificial.

Reva raced into him, climbing his torso like the trees she used to as a child. She locked her legs around his neck and pounded her fists into his thick and ugly skull. Ivar staggered a step then purposely fell, slamming Reva between him and the mat.

Blood filled her mouth as Reva kicked and managed to crawl free. Refilling her lungs, she scurried to the edge of the mat trying to find a new angle of attack. He wasn’t the biggest man she’d ever fought, but he was quicker someone of his size should be. It was telling where his artificial body ended and where his actual week spots began.

“Come on, kid,” her handler said from the edge. “Your crowd is watching you.”

Reva stole a glance around the stadium. The crowd uncharacteristically silent, some slack jawed and standing, others tangling their hands in their hair in shock as Ivar peacocked around the ring, shouting about his power and coming victory. His smile was wild. His words were coarse. Reva was the butt of every joke.  

Reva spat on the ground. The taste of rust still filled her mouth. But so did pride. Her split skin spread across her knuckles as she tightened her fists. Ten more years in the mine was worth knocking the teeth out of Izar’s stupid mouth. She’d work 20 more years in the mine just to piss off the Alaris company for a night. She’d do anything to ruin Oxway’s life like he thought he ruined hers.

Her crowd waited for her.

She would never do something Oxway demanded of her again.

Reva eyed Ivar noting where the slimy oil stopped just under his chin. Whatever modifications he had didn’t cover his face. He’d go down just like everyone else, simply because his ego was too big to cover.

Reva leapt forward, crashing her fist against Ivar’s jaw. He staired dumbly at her and water welled up in his eyes. She hit him again. Harder. The crowd roared. As he dropped, Reva grabbed his throat to keep him kneeling. She delivered nasty blow after nasty blow until the white ring beneath them was soaked in red, until the usually gruesome crowd had gone silent, until Ivar’s front two teeth were pushed somewhere in the back of his throat.

Reva finally dropped the body. She twirled around and faced the top box looming several hundred feet above her. She couldn’t see the Alaris suits behind the tinted windows, but she knew they saw her. Everyone in the stadium watched her. She pointed at the glass, at Oxway, and then dragged her thumb across her throat.

He was next.