The Four Kings (9 page)

“Two points for Justica,” Indie yelled. A scorecard magically appeared in the sky above them, indicating “Justica 2, Regi 0.”

The ball of fire disappeared. Regi did a somersault into Justica’s direction, and wrapped his legs around her neck while still in mid-air. Astonished by the unexpected move, Justica tumbled and landed on the floor, unhurt.

“Bravo!” Demus cried, clearly impressed. “Excellent move!”

“Three points for Regi,” Indie said. The scorecard now read: Justica 2, Regi 3.

Amanda found herself intently focused on the match. It was so
elegant
. She hated wrestling matches, either the Olympic-inspired kind or the carnival-like kind. The usual wrestling contests on Earth seemed so raw and sweaty. Bodies squirming together in a bunch of headlocks, really. But these were different. The wizards could actually approach each other from considerable distances, adding an element of excitement to the competition. More strategizing was required, in order to figure out the opponent’s next moves. It was a guessing game.

She couldn’t figure out whom to root for – Regi or Justica. She was thrilled a woman was doing well, but she found herself attracted to Regi’s muscular body. He didn’t possess sinewy muscles that bulged out. Rather, he was of the stocky type, fit and all toned up. To her, he possessed raw sexual appeal. He towered over the slim and short Justica, which was why Amanda was relieved that it wasn’t a battle of muscle. Rather, it was a battle of wits and lightning speed. Amanda decided not to take sides – it was too difficult to decide. She would cheer for both.

“Foul!” Indie had cried out. Justica stood, panting, knowing she had been caught. She glared at Indie, daring her to follow through. “One point off for Justica.”

“Why?” Amanda shouted out.

Indie said, “Justica shifted about seven feet away. In Level One, you’re allowed to shift only up to five feet away.” She faced the two combatants. “Start again.”

“Shifted?” Amanda said to Demus, who was standing nearby. “Does that mean disappearing?”

“Yes,” Demus replied, “Also you can’t remain invisible for more than half a second. You need to reappear almost immediately. In Level Three, you’re allowed to remain invisible for three seconds or less.”

“What about Level Two?” Amanda asked.

“Two seconds.”

“That’s not very much difference.” Amanda made a face as she watched Regi and Justica battle it out.

Demus shook his head, giving effect to his seriousness. “Believe me, even one second makes a huge difference. You’ll see.”

The two kept watching. It was clear Demus was rooting for Regi.

Absorbed in the fight, Demus said, “It’s like a chess game.”

“How so?”

“Remember, you can only move five feet at a time. If you have a dominant position, you can soon trap your enemy. You get exhausted easily if you start to retreat. The other guy senses this and forces you to lose your momentum. You become more predictable and then he moves in for the kill.”

Amanda looked up at him.

Demus glanced at her, aware of her gaze. “I mean figuratively, of course.”

“It sounds like a brutal game.”

“It is.”

Amanda watched with horror – only because of her own escalating adrenalin and excitement – as Justica seemed to be fading. Justica kept disappearing, one step at a time, away from Regi, but he clearly anticipated every move she made with increasing accuracy. Pretty soon, even Amanda could guess where Justica would end up next. Finally, Regi delivered a high kick to Justica’s shoulder, sending her sprawling but not hurt.

“One point to Regi,” Indie said. The scoreboard now read: Justica 2, Regi 4.

While Regi waited for Justica to stand up, and she disappeared, he knew instantly where she’d appear next. Even as she materialized, Regi concisely delivered a body blow. There was no deference to women in this game, apparently.

“That’s enough!” Demus shouted. “Justica is exhausted.”

“Final score: Regi 5, Justica 2. Well done, Regi,” Indie announced. Dozens of wizards on the outskirts cheered.

Regi raised his hands in victory, panting heavily. Justica wiped her brow, and then bent over to place her hands on her knees, her head swaying in exhaustion. Demus strolled over to Regi, giving him a high five as Regi sported a boyish grin. Amanda stood transfixed by the spectacle.

“Mind you,” Indie shouted out, “This isn’t their typical match. Justica usually wins these types of matches. Just watch her next time.”

Regi hollered. “Okay. Next one. Demus versus Indie!” He whooped, spinning his fist into the air high above his head. A carnival atmosphere erupted, with dozens of wizards chanting.

“Are you ready?” Demus strutted.

“I’m ready,” Indie said. She gave Demus a dangerous look.

Among the spectators, two camps split: one contingent chanted, “Demus! Demus! Demus!” Not to be outdone, another faction pumped their arms into the air repeatedly. “Indie! Indie! Indie!”

The two, Demus and Indie, materialized into the middle of the challenge zone, and started circling each other, conveying intimidating body language. The display on the screen conveyed an image that appeared to be snapped up by a video camera revolving around the match, thrilling Mortals with the three hundred and sixty degree point of view.

Amanda wondered if she’d be as attracted to Demus as she was to Regi. Demus was much taller, and slimmer. He had that alluring face, almost conveying a hypnotic look. His high cheekbones augmented his piercing blue eyes.

Depends on how he moves, Amanda thought. Would he move like a cheetah – swift and efficient, or like a bull – intimidating and overpowering?

“Level Two,” Regi announced out loud. “Justica to be the referee.”

“How’s Level Two different?” Amanda asked.

“Level Two allows you to use more powers. You can shift up to ten feet away. Disappear for two seconds. Use a copy of yourself. And use weapons.”

“Use
weapons
?”

Regi smiled as Demus and Indie circled each other, formulating strategy. “Don’t worry, these weapons don’t kill. They’re solid, but don’t harm. They just set off a beep when they find their target. So, remember, what you see is real, but the effect isn’t real. More often than not, wizards just drop out due to exhaustion, not pain.”

Amanda started at the looming battle, spellbound. Another Demus materialized next to the original Demus. In exchange, a second Indie appeared, facing off against Demus II. The four warily eyed each other, doing a delicate dance while sizing one another up.

“Which one’s real?”

“Like you can tell twins apart when you get to know them,” Regi whispered to Amanda, “The better one’s always the original. The clone’s never as good. But the clone sure helps a lot in battle.”

Both Demus I and Demus II conjured up swords in their hands, and advanced forward on Indie I, ignoring Indie II. Indie I, anticipating the move, conjured up two swords, one in each hand, and expertly deflected the blows from both Demuses. Having unwisely opened up an opportunity for Indie II to strike from behind, Demus II received the end of a blow of a sword magically zapped up by Indie II. He grimaced at the blow.

Oh my God!
Amanda thought. She gave a little jump, unable to turn away. She expected to see blood spurting out of the back lower leg of Demus II, where the sword met flesh. But there was none. Instead, she heard an electrical cackling sound, which triggered the scorecard to appear: Indie 1, Demus 0.

Aghast at the unforced error, both Demus I and Demus II disappeared immediately. Both Indie I and Indie II anticipated the move, and they quickly adopted a defensive stance, crouching down with their backs to each other. Instantly, the swords disappeared, to be replaced by crossbows.

Amanda cupped her mouth. “No! No! This is too dangerous!”

Regi held his hand on her shoulder. “Remember, this is not real.”

Both Demus I and Demus II materialized, at a tangent to both Indie I and Indie II, one on each side of an imaginary circle with both Indies at the center. Indie I and Indie II quickly spotted their targets, now about seven feet away each, and released their crossbows. One arrow hit Demus I into the heart; the other missed Demus II. An electrical buzzing sound ensued.

Amanda wanted to run up to Demus I. “No!” she cried. Regi anticipated Amanda’s flight and reappeared in front of her, facing her, blocking her path. “Demus is fine,” Regi assured her.

After peering around Regi, Amanda saw Demus I’s furious expression: he was angry, but not from any pain. The arrow had disappeared; he was perfectly unharmed.

“Another two points for Indie,” Justica said. The scoreboard read; Indie 3, Demus 0.

The combatants were too engrossed to pay attention to the score or to the spectators. Conjuring up a firewall around them, both Demus I and II performed several flips into the air, directly heading toward Indie I and II respectively. Indie I and II easily identified the maneuvers, and by the time Demus I and II had landed, they both were drenched with a blast of water.

“Water and fire are the only elements allowed up to Level Two,” Regi told Amanda.

Both Indie I and II materialized together, about ten feet away from both Demus I and II. The two Indies were laughing at the Demuses, which was a mistake. Having miraculously dried up all the water on their bodies, both Demus I and II extended their hands in front of them to unleash a magical force. As if struck by an invisible blow, both Indies staggered backwards and collapsed on the floor.

Indie 3, Demus 1.

“You do it!” snarled Indie II to Indie I. Upon that command, Indie I re-materialized on top of Demus II, with her legs firmly clasped around Demus II’s neck as he was still standing. He grabbed her ferociously, but lost his balance and fell. The two bodies tumbled to the ground, and wrestled each other with fervor. At the same time, Indie II delivered a flying kick to Demus I, sending him catapulting into the air and onto the ground. Wisely, before he hit the surface, Demus I zapped himself into a new trajectory, this time toward his tormentor, Indie II, from behind and knocked her down.

“Time out!” Justica yelled, holding up her left arm, just as it appeared the match would devolve into a free-for-all. “Four more points for Indie, three more points for Demus.”

The final score read: Indie 7, Demus 4.

Perspiring and panting, the two Indies and two Demuses stood up, and bowed to their counterparts. Then, Indie II and Demus II disappeared, and the two original characters amicably shook hands with each other.

Amanda stood there, unbelieving it was all over. “Wow,” she said.

Regi turned to her and grinned. “That’s only Level Two. Wait until you see Level Three and Level Four.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Whew,” Regi said to the others before the cameras, which would link them to millions of humans on the North America continent, were activated. “It’s been a crazy first week. Now, for the final activity we haven’t done yet in public.”

“Today’s Monday,” Demus said with a grin. “So it must be Debate Day.”

“In a way, this is easy,” Indie said. “We control what goes on here. The Mortals can hear us, but they can’t intervene. And, we don’t have to compete in games. We just sit here and get real work done for our new fans.”

Amanda was nervous, not paying particular attention to the banter. She wanted to be as thoroughly prepared for the debates as much as possible. It was her duty to bring forward her point-by-point briefings, concisely segregated and summarized, as packaged from the thousands of proposals her hundred-plus staff had received from the entire continent in three different languages.

“Relax, Amanda,” Demus urged, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said testily, without meaning to. “I’ve had to organize all of this.”

“We have faith in you, Amanda,” Justica said.

“Cameras on,” Indie announced, smiling at the huge screens surrounding them. Instantaneously, millions of enormous screens materialized in the sky above North American. The “Mortals” had, with Amanda’s guidance, taken to live-streaming all proceedings of the wizards. Tired of craning their necks to the sky at all times, the Mortals had simply settled down to watch the proceedings on their television set or home computer. Most had carried on with their lives, knowing that the newscasts would summarize the days’ proceedings for them. Millions, however, couldn’t resist the live-action allure of the wizards’ sporting events, and enthusiastically adopted them as they would for professional soccer, basketball, football, hockey, and baseball. Many of them rearranged their work schedules just so they could watch the thrilling competitions live.

“Good morning, Mortals, and welcome back. Today is our very first ‘Debate Day’ held in front of you, where you have full, unimpeded access to our decision-making. If you fervently agree, or vehemently oppose, and anything in between, any of the decisions we make, you’re perfectly welcome to contact our Supreme Liaison, Amanda Fullerton, and we’ll consider what we can, on the next Petition Day.”

Indie glanced at the screen, then to Amanda. “Amanda, can you give us the statistics?”

Trying to keep her voice even, fully aware of millions of eyes trained on her, Amanda intoned from a paper in front of her, trying to project her pitch so that she didn’t sound as if she was reading off. “Continent-wide, NAM. Averaged. Unemployment, twenty-two percent inflation, fourteen percent gross domestic product, minus four percent annual basis.”

She shuffled her papers. “Popularity of the Liberators is fourteen-point-five percent with those who desire a return to their respective status quos, an overwhelming seventy-five percent. Ten percent weren’t sure or didn’t know. Rounding error for the rest.”

“We’re positively rocking!” Regi said with a wide grin.

“Nowhere to go but up,” Demus said.

“Amanda, report on the bitcoin economy?” Regi asked.

She frowned and thumbed through the papers. There it was. Luckily, she knew it’d be important. “Now at sixty-five percent of the daily transactions of the former cash economy. Scheduled to reach ninety-five percent capacity in ten more days. Ten-point-seven trillion bitcoin transactions were conducted in the last six days alone.”