(Ah, where does the time go? Late again, but here’s blog post #63 and the story is back on track.)
(from blog post #62) The petrified trembling girl dropped her staff in utter terror of striking the king and for that little mistake was promptly decapitated by her reproving lover. In a final tribute to the supremacy of malehood, the king then proceeded to have sex with the decapitated body. A fitting end to a perfect week to commemorate the enthroning of Clown Prince Jestor to king of the fair land of Elbre.
(Note: my use of the word Clown rather than Crown is deliberate)
End blog post #62
Begin blog post #63
Chapter 27 – The ‘Teaching’ Begins
It’s been over a month since I’ve heard anything from either the Cydroids or seen Dr. Echinoza. I suspect he went on one of his “R and R” trips to the south with Yoba Five, or one of the Yoba’s. In the meantime I have had six more turns into the arena. I am a new person in two very remarkable ways. One, my bionic implants work to perfection, matched as I was told, by whatever else was done to my skin and I suspect, to my brain. There is a new clarity and speed I have to actually pull back on to appear at least nominally ‘human’ to challengers, observers and watchers.
In any official arena combat, all participants are assessed on performance. Every move is observed by cameras and human recorders. Most of the observation is for legal purposes, to reveal if laws are being flouted or broken so penalties can be applied. For example, if a challenger uses a poisoned tip without having cleared it with the arena and paid the proper fee that allows use of such a poison, he will be fined, or if it causes the premature death of an expensive fighter, may cause the forfeit his own life.
Female fighters are assessed for future value in the gambling circuit and they also are watched for breaking laws.
An example of a move that will certainly get you flogged to death: approaching a challenger and suddenly releasing sand trapped in the hand into his eyes, temporarily blinding him to administer the ‘coup de grace’.
Thus are we watched and all our moves carefully recorded and gone over by statisticians. My personalized and famous killing kick had to be entered as a permissible move before I could duplicate it in an official combat. All fighting must be done using only the weapons provided. If a weapon is dropped, you cannot use your feet or hands to tackle your opponent. Unless you can regain your weapon, you die. If you use your body and succeed in overthrowing your opponent, then you have to kill him with your bare hands, or with a kick. If you do so, you will be tortured to death as a murderer.
Isn’t it interesting how the laws of any land can be twisted to fit any kind of immoral concept? Think about this. On Malefactus I have no status as a human being. I’m not even an animal, just a thing with some monetary value attached to it. Yet I can commit a crime punishable by the most violent form of punishment – physical torture. Who stops to think that through? Well, since it serves the ruling class – the males – there is no reason for them to question it and since I have no legal status to question anything they do, I cannot question it. A perfect combination. Reminds me of many laws I studied on Old Earth, especially those to do with slavery and post-slavery days on some worlds before the great die-back. Similar irrational laws governed the interaction between labour and management and whether corporations could be held accountable for crimes committed against humanity when all along they paid taxes (or made a pretense to) and received benefits under the law as did private citizens.
Here’s another thought on the same subject regarding organized sports. On any world where such gratuitous forms of violence are still indulged in, it has been my observation that organized sports of any kind require a plethora of arcane rules to remain interesting to spectators or to make any sense, especially to define one’s performance within the sport to those who participate in it. Shouldn’t that tell you something about the actual ‘value’ of such sport? Any remotely intelligent encounter with such a put-up job would be to walk away from it. But as here, in Hyrete, the opposite happens. People flock to observe these insane and immoral activities and willingly part with large sums of money to do so.
Of my six encounters now since my implants, none were even close to a challenge but I did manage to make it look as if I was working. I performed what the crowds hate the most but get the hottest about – evasive manoeuvres, drawing my opponent behind me as I back away from him, tiring him out from walking through the sand. The most difficult part for me is getting slightly wounded without incurring serious cuts or blows. I have to show I am working, but I cannot afford to get seriously hurt because the local medics may discover my implants and jeopardize the Koronese effort on Malefactus. I promised to be careful. It’s a very difficult act to perform.
Sometimes, when I let my feelings dominate for an instant I want to reach out with my bare hands, pluck the little fuck by the neck and just squeeze with those impeccably reliable bionic wrist implants and watch his eyeballs pop out.
Oh, am I shocking you? Did you think that for a moment there I was no longer human? What, and miss all the fun of living on this world? OK, so I feel sorry later. I confess to myself how wrong, how dangerous, how deleterious, how openly evil it is for me to entertain such thoughts. But in the heat of the fight, it helps me focus… until I find something better to occupy my thoughts with, or until they finally kill me.
I know there will be, there must be, an execution in my future or at the very least a killing orgy. No woman ever survives the arena. It will end here.
In between these fights I train many women. Having lowered my speech standards to theirs, and having once more bounced back from what they were sure was my certain death, thus becoming to some a kind of local hero, to others the reincarnation of their Desert Beast Goddess, several now speak to me even though they certainly fear me. I don’t mind the fear because it works for my long-term plans.
As I tap into my “other” memories I keep introducing new fighting methods, new moves, tricks, attacks that do not appear as attacks. After all these are women. Their brains work like women. They innately know how to seduce men. This can be done in many ways, not only sexually but as fighters. Even in the arena they are still women, they are not men. They are more subtle, less likely to charge mindlessly at an opponent. They are the ones who finesse the combat, who quite often call the shots as it were. With self-empowerment they can have much control over how it plays out.
But first I must make ‘her’ aware of her power as a sexual being. What stance to take when a man approaches with an erection to plunge into her. What feelings to bring forth for him to absorb. I explain that it should not be hateful, neutral or submissive. That is the one place where her female body can be activated to weaken the male without his realizing it. The way to his power is through his emotions. That is his greatest weakness. Males cannot muster up emotional shields against a woman’s sexual love advances. He can only counter with physical barriers but most of the time he finds himself powerless to do so.
“You must learn to seduce them to you not just for quick favours but to steal their will power, their male power. You must learn how to take that into yourselves. That is what I used to do on Túat Har. Any woman can steal a man’s energy through sex but few men can do the same with a woman. She basically has to let him do it to her. Here you have forgotten this and it has made you weak and fearful. Even those of you who use anger against men, you are weak. Anger is the last refuge of fear. It is your greatest weakness.
You have become slaves of men from the original shock of losing all that was familiar and natural to you. That is what the black metallic demons stole from you. What you don’t realize yet is that this ancient female power has come back for you. It is here, within you again.
“There is a story from Old Earth of a very strong man whose power was in his hair. He told no one this and he was able to fight hundreds of armed men and kill them. He could take doors like that one – I point to the massive portal of the keep’s main entrance – and carry them on his shoulders to the top of a hill. He could kill huge wild beasts with his bare hands. But he was seduced by a woman and one day he told her his secret. She cut his hair and he became weak. He was imprisoned by his enemies and they gouged out his eyes. But over time they forgot about cutting his hair and his strength returned. One day he was chained between two massive main towers that held up a stone temple like this place, and thousands of his enemies were inside celebrating. The man flexed his muscles and knew his power had come back. He pulled on the towers and collapsed the building, killing himself and all those inside. Thousands of his enemies died in one day.
“Remember this story. See this man as each one of you. As a woman on this world, realize always that the power they took away from you has come back. Yes, they have taken your freedom away and made laws so you remain slaves of men. But it need not remain that way. All you need to do is focus your mind on your female energies. Not to survive a fight against a male in the arena, that’s nothing. But to regain your freedom as women; as full human beings. That is what you once were…”
I go on like this, day after day, to one, two, sometimes more women while one of them watches for eavesdroppers (snitches) or men lurking about trying to hear what we are saying. Technically I am not supposed to talk to the women but I have demonstrated time and again, the necessity of the need to verbally explain new or revolutionary ideas. I have shown the men the advantage of allowing me these law-bending freedoms by the money they have made from my innovations in fighting techniques – not to mention the improvements on the weapons the women use.
Yes, many of the women are frightened by my words and the ideas they create in their minds. I have to keep reminding them that they are going to be killed violently regardless of what they do, or do not.
End blog post #63