I needed to protect her, make sure she would be safe.
Shortly after Ivy left my cell, I washed and dressed and knew exactly what I had to do.
I wasn’t sure if the Supervisor would speak with me but I had to try.
I stepped out of my cell. The other prisoners were already heading to the pits to either fight or make their bets on those who would. I would have to go down there later to take my position in the lineup.
First, I had something else I needed to do.
I drifted down the long hallways in a direction I hadn’t walked in a very long time. I passed a gang of fighters who eyed me with jealous eyes. I so rarely looked up from fighting that I never really noticed the atmosphere of the place I found myself in.
Had it always been this dismal and depressing? Or did it only look that way because Ivy made the world seem so much brighter?
I crossed the gangway and climbed two flights of stairs before reaching the guards standing outside the Supervisor’s research facility.
There were no other fighters in this part of the prison. They knew better than to look or act menacing anywhere near the Supervisor.
I stopped half a dozen yards from the guards. They stiffened, aware of my approach, but did not open fire.
It was a good sign.
“I’m here to see the Supervisor,” I said. “I need to speak with him.”
“The Supervisor is busy,” the guard on the left with the dented visor said.
Dented visor? From when I kicked him in the head?
Great. This was sure to make things much easier to get what I wanted.
“I don’t want any trouble,” I said. “I have something I need to speak with him about. Just let him know I’m here. I’ll accept whatever decision he makes.”
The guards were silent and didn’t move a muscle for a good thirty seconds. It’s a long time when you’re just staring at someone.
Finally, the one with the dented visor spoke but it wasn’t to me, it was to the communicator in his visor. He spoke in a much softer, more respectful tone than the one he barked at me.
“Prisoner 43567 here to see you,” the guard said.
He was quiet a moment as he listened to the response.
“Yes, sir,” the guard said.
The guards moved to one side, turned sideways, and let me approach.
I eyed them warily as I shoved the door open and entered the research facility. The guards followed hot on my heels.
What did I think? That they weren’t going to follow and keep a close eye on me?
I entered the facility. It was busy with scientists rushing to and fro, busy with their experiments.
The way I remembered it.
It wasn’t easy for me to return to this place. It’d always seemed so futuristic compared to the prison outside which was basic by necessity. Any advanced computers or wiring could too easily be used as weapons against their captors.
Already, the first fight in the pit was underway. I could hear the roaring voices of the crowd. The monitors balanced on metal tabletops blinked and whirred as they recorded the fight in intricate detail. It was hard to tell what they were measuring.
The Supervisor stepped from the terminal where he was discussing something with one of his scientists and glanced in my direction. He nodded his head thoughtfully.
He was nothing if not thoughtful.
He approached me with his long strides. I was reminded of the hope and expectation he harbored toward me when I first came here.
He tested me hard, harder than any other prisoner. The Supervisor would tell me about the stories he heard concerning my species, tales of their abilities. He wanted to see if they were real.
“To get at those abilities, you must learn to embrace anger, fear, and the most powerful emotion of all: hate,” he would tell me. “Embrace those and you will become what you were always meant to be.”
I met each of his challenges head-on. I took a beating but always managed to come out on top—barely. And each time when my ability failed to materialize, he was not happy.
No matter how many opponents he set against me, no matter how many I defeated, it was never enough. He would peer down at me from the observation deck beside his blinking computers and whirring monitors that scanned and recorded everything I did in the pit. His lips were always pursed. He would tuck his hands behind his back and turn away.
No matter what I did, it was never enough.
“You’re capable of so much more,” he would say. “You have a power inside you that’s waiting to be unleashed. All you need to do is unlock it and show it to the world.”
I fought harder and harder, one opponent after another, and eventually, the Supervisor grew bored of me.
He stopped inviting me to his resident to show me books on my species, no longer discussed interesting topics like history or science, no longer gave me chocolate or toys.
Then one day in the pits, I did it.
I unlocked my ability when I faced an ishu. He was much bigger and stronger than me. He cornered me and I couldn’t escape…
And that’s when I felt my first palpitations of golden light. I laid my hands on the ishu and felt an unspeakable strength. His strength. I used it to defeat him.
Finally certain the Supervisor would be proud of me, I looked up at the observation deck with a grin on my face.
The Supervisor wasn’t even watching. He knelt before another boy around the same age as me, his hand on his shoulder. He brought a chocolate bar out from behind his back and handed it to him.
He’d moved on and found another favorite.
And I kept my secret to myself.
I kept everything to myself after that. I fought the fights and endured hardships because it was what I was supposed to do. I perfected my ability and used it when necessary in my fights, which wasn’t often
