“How do I get into this Game?” I said.
“Just apply to one of the flunkies,” said Frankie. “And then make out your will.”
“If this is a free-for-all, then why don’t we both enter?” said Molly. “Should help the odds on us winning, if we’re in there together to watch each other’s back.”
“You could both enter,” said Frankie, “but the rules say there can only be one winner. You’d have to kill, or at least seriously maim, the other to be declared winner.”
“Then we won’t do that,” said Molly.
“It’s down to me,” I said firmly. “You’re an excellent fighter, Molly, but I’m the one trained on how to survive against all the odds.”
“This is the Pit, all over again,” said Molly. “I had a hard enough time bringing you back from the brink after you fought the Dancing Fool! And now you want to take on a whole bunch of people just like him? Are you crazy?”
“There is no one like the Dancing Fool,” I said. “And I promise you, I have absolutely no intention of fighting fairly this time. I plan to use lateral thinking and a hell of a lot of ducking and weaving.”
“Well,” said Molly. “That’s more like it.”
We went in search of a generic flunky, and I told him I wanted to take part in Last Man Standing. He just nodded, and led us out of the Arena, and out across the grassy plain, to a tall round stone Tower standing on its own. Not very tall, and not very large, three or four stories at most, but with a great many windows in the curving exterior wall. Lots of other flunkies were leading even more people towards the Tower. As we drew nearer, I could see there were open doorways at the base of the Tower, and a great many viewscreens floating in mid-air, giving views of the interior. A large audience was assembling around the circular base of the Tower, from every direction. Just sitting there in the grass, staring eagerly at the viewscreens. Our flunky stopped us just short of the doorways, and looked at me pointedly.
“The rules of the Game are quite clear, sir. You can only take in whatever is yours, and you must enter the Tower naked.”
I glared at Frankie. “You didn’t mention that part.”
“Didn’t I?” Frankie said innocently. “Must have slipped my mind.”
“Don’t worry,” said Molly. “I’ll mind your clothes.”
“Strangely enough, that isn’t what’s worrying me,” I said. “There’s all these people . . . I don’t like to.”
“Oh, get on with it!” said Molly.
I looked around and saw that everyone else was stripping off. And since they didn’t seem too bothered, and no one was making a fuss about it, I did so too. The wind felt very cold, and I felt very vulnerable, as I finally stood naked and shivering before an open doorway. No one else seemed to be paying me any attention; they all had their gaze fixed on the Tower, their minds set on the Game.
“See?” Molly said brightly, hugging my clothes to her chest. “Not a scar to be seen, anywhere. I do good work!”
“Not bad,” said Frankie. “Though I have seen better . . .”
“Hey!” said Molly. “You keep your eyes off my property!”
The generic flunkies began ushering everyone through the open doorways, and into the Tower. By now there was a whole crowd of players, dozens of us. All types and sizes, most of them in pretty good shape. And watching us, all around the base of the Tower, an audience of hundreds gathered to watch us fight and hopefully die, entertainingly, on the floating viewscreens. Frankie waved a quick good-bye, and moved off into the crowd to do what he did best. Molly waved, and then the generic flunky pushed me politely but firmly through the open doorway.
The inside of the Tower was just a great empty hollow, surrounded by a curving stone interior wall. People were filling up the empty space from all sides, hurrying in through the doorways. Some smiling, some serious, no one saying anything. And every one of us naked as the day we were born. Some it bothered, some it didn’t; a few stared openly. I looked up, to the top of the Tower. A single stone step protruded, at the very top. According to Frankie, just before the Game began a flunky would appear there, holding the sacred staff. He would drop it, and one of us would catch it. And then, we would all fight it out to see who could hold on to the staff. While everyone else tried to take it away, by any and all means necessary. Last Man Standing. And that, Frankie had assured me, was all there was to the Game. Be the last man, with the staff. No other rules.
The hollow interior filled up pretty quickly, but the flunkies kept pushing in more and more competitors. Even after we were all packed uncomfortably close together, still the competitors kept arriving. Forced through the doorways by firm, implacable flunkies. Until finally we were all packed so closely together, we could hardly move. No room left for modesty when we were all back to back, belly to belly, face to face. The heat inside the Tower, generated by so many bodies in such a confined space, quickly became intolerable. And then got worse. We were all of us sweating like fury, but the perspiration running down our bodies was the only lubrication we had, to allow us to move. And it didn’t take me long to realise that not everyone else in the Tower was entirely human.
Fur brushed up against bare skin, as werewolves and werebears and other furred halflings insisted on their presence. Unnaturally pale people with sharp teeth and crimson eyes—vampires, hiding their true walking corpse status behind flickering glamours. And from the smell of it, several ghouls, too. And on top of that, several only vaguely human shapes that might have been aliens or demons, or anything in between. Some had scales, some had bony carapaces, or vicious bone spurs protruding from their elbows, and some had too many arms. It would appear that invitations to Casino Infernale went really far and wide. I couldn’t help feeling at something of a disadvantage, in being only human. Except, that I had one very special ace, not at all up my sleeve.
We finally reached a point where the generic flunkies couldn’t force another body through the doorways and that was when the flunky appeared on the top step high above us, holding out the sacred staff. He called out once, to get our attention, and then just dropped the staff.
It seemed to float almost tantalisingly on the air above us, turning end over end as it fell. A hundred hands thrust up, eager to grab it, mine among them. The staff fell and fell, and finally one hand grabbed it out of the air. I turned towards it and someone kicked my feet right out from under me. I fell, slipping through the greased bodies around me, and hit the floor hard. And straight away everyone else trampled all over me, as the crowd surged back and forth in pursuit of the sacred staff. All kinds of feet slammed into me from every direction, knocking the breath right out of me. It didn’t take me long to realise that if I stayed down, I would be trampled to death.
So, I delivered short vicious punches, and back-elbows, in every direction; cracking bones and breaking ankles, until enough people crashed to the floor to allow me enough space to fight my way back onto my feet again. Bruised, and bloodied, but intact. Some more applied viciousness opened up a little more space around me, but there were any number of punches and back-elbows coming my way too, as we all surged this way and that, a hundred and more naked bodies fighting it out for one wooden staff.
Please don’t let me get a hard-on, I thought. People are watching. It would be so hard to explain, afterwards.
I could hear the crowd outside, enjoying the fighting. Watching it all on the floating viewscreens, laughing and cheering and applauding. They cheered especially loudly when they saw someone die. I couldn’t see the bodies on the floor, but I could feel them when my feet slammed into something hard and unyielding.