Two Sides

Interlude #10

"Rey, please come away from the window." 

Ben grabs the curtains and begins to slide them shut. I reach out and block them from closing over the spot where I stand rooted. We've been in this flat for a day now. Once I saw what was happening down below in the arena, I couldn't step away. Very few things are in the flat that aren't clothing or linens. But there are two pairs of digital binoculars, strong enough to zoom in and observe exactly what's happening below.

The arena is enormous. Ben estimates it can seat over a hundred thousand souls. The seating is steep and curved up and around the vast, sandy floor. A twenty meter wall of glass protects the spectator's seating from the creatures on the sand. We are on one of the highest levels. Each hour, a different handler comes out with some new horror to exercise. I've run from rathtars before, and felt the deep seeds of dread creep into me when they were released into the arena to exercise. Their handler didn't join them. 

He wedges himself between me and the window and presses me away. I don't bother to resist. I know it's not healthy to stand and stare at what's below. 

"Come on, let's cook dinner and I'll tell you about the Combat Arena." That gets my attention. I trail after him in the kitchen and allow him to lift me up onto the island. "How about I cook and talk, and you listen and kiss me." 

He can always pull a smile out of me. 

"Have you been here before?" I ask. 

"No. But I know where we are." 

"Where?!"

"Coruscant. In a somewhat remote location. I've heard tell of this place. It's where rich fools come to bet on fights." 

While I've been staring in horror at the arena and its users, Ben has spent his time laying on the balcony, looking into the distance for any possible means of escape. So far, he's come up short. The cliff face is smooth and sheer, and we are too high to find an escape that way. He's kept mental note of the comings and goings of the ships and is annoyed by the lack of a discernible pattern. My face hurts from frowning, so I rub my forehead. 

"The creatures below fight each other?"

"Well, no, not exactly. They are matched against warriors."

"What kind of warrior would go into a ring with those monsters?"

"One promised a huge return if he or she manages not to die." 

"No one would be that stupid."

He takes on of his promised kisses and returns to chopping green peppers. "What makes you think they volunteer?"

Oh no. The coil of dread that's been wound around my spine tightens. "You mean they don't have a choice?"

"It is my understanding that the highlight of the evening performance is a willing warrior. But the warm up events are usually filled by prisoners and slaves." 

"Gods, these people are sick. The authorities don't care?"

"If we're stuck in here long enough to observe, I have a feeling we'll see many of those authorities seated below. This is the corruption the First Order sought to stamp out." 

"By force, though." 

"Wait until you've seen a match, and I think you'll find my way was superior. The First Order would have never allowed this to go on." 

I avoid these conversations at all cost. I lean in as he turns to study me and kiss him again, hoping to distract him from mention of his superior motivations in ruling the galaxy. 

"So why did Carias bring us here?"

There are chunks of garlic, mushrooms, and chicken in the pan now, along with some very strong onions. My eyes sting. 

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

That evening, we both stand on the balcony and watch as a steady stream on transports shuttle wealthy sadists to some location far below us. The arena slowly fills with people, and once the stream of ships slows, we sit at the glass with the lights off in the flat to shield us from detection, peeking with our binoculars through slits in the curtains. 

I want to vomit by the time the first match is over. Thirty men and women, poorly clad and barely armed, face an acklay and end up strewn about the arena, torn to bits. The crab like creature takes some blows, but in the end emerges victorious. I didn't understand before why the arena floor was sand, but as I watch liters of blood spill and soak down into the floor, it makes more sense. 

"Ben?"

He reaches for me, his face still in the curtains, and places a warm hand on my face. "Yes?"

"Why do you think we're here?"

He's quiet for a long time, still watching. The crowd roars, and I assume the creature has been led out of the arena, victorious and granted another however many days until the next chance at death. 

"I have a feeling we're going into that arena."

The floor falls out beneath me. I have never expected to live long. I've never expected longevity, never considered more years and the right to time ahead a promise. But to die like this is gruesome. I can imagine the acklay's jaws closing down around my leg and tearing it off. I shiver. 

"That's horrible. What did we do to piss this guy off so much that he'd throw us in there to die?"

Ben presses his face close enough that I can see the reflection of the small amount of moonlight streaming in from the outside off of his eyes. 

"I've committed more crimes than you could write down in a year. You aren't guilty here, but I certainly am. Maybe we can bargain with Carias. Maybe he'll let you go." 

"I'm not leaving without you." 

"Even if it means you'll die?" 

"The deaths look rather quick. I bet it won't take long." 

"If he keeps drugging us, I have a feeling you're right."