CARNIVAL (The Spark Form Chronicles Book 2) (17 page)

              The screen starts in black with John Forrester's voice cutting in just before the image starts to fade in. "So," he begins, intentionally draws out the first word so that it doesn't end until the image is in full view, “we’re here. Once again, that one final match is just around the corner and once again it's me and Fahrn and Fahrn and me stepping out into the arena to duke it out for the biggest prize there is.

              "Whoo man," he cries, throwing his arms in the air and turning on the spot before dropping into a hyperactive sway. "This has been a tough one, a real tough one, and it's not gonna get any easier. See, Finn was way better than
anybody
gave him credit for, me included. And Connor! Oh man, Connor was phenomenal, he really, really was. But," he says, finally standing still long enough to hold one finger up in front of the camera. "But. I was better. I beat Finn McCourt and I beat Connor Ford because I will not let myself be anything but the best. I won't let myself lose, no matter how long or hard I have to fight."

              John pauses, smiles, then shifts back into his usual jittery stance. "But that's why it's only gonna get tougher from here on out, isn't it? Fahrn. Fahrn, Fahrn, Fahrn, Fahrn, Fahrn. She has something to prove. Twice now we've fought, twice I've come
this close
to losing and twice I've walked away knowing, just knowing, that if I ever stood across the Battle Zone from her again, that may well be the time that she goes that extra mile. It might just be the moment when I have to look around and say, 'Hey. I'm done.'

              "Tonight, that moment could come. It
could
." Again, John stops and fixes the camera with a cheeky grin. This time though, his voice takes on a more serious edge. "But it won't. Ya see, I don't pretend that being at the top makes me untouchable, and I don't go into
any
battle blind. This year Fahrn, you could be the best you've ever been, you could fight harder than you've ever fought before, but me?" John winks at the camera and says, "I'm not done yet."

              The camera pans out as John gives a salute, says "Laters", and bounds off screen.

              We fade to black.

              "Oh come one," I moan. That was good actually, the words came out nice and clear. OK, so I had to force them out, but they still came out so that means that sprinting isn't leaving me entirely out of breath. It's weird actually, I can usually go a lot harder than this at the gym. It could be another side effect of the implants. Or stress. I guess I'll find out when I hit the treadmill again.

              And here we go. I reach out to knock on the door and pause. Why though? Am I still scared of her? I guess I am a little, but not as much as I was. She made it clear last night that she really won't hurt me, and all the negotiations make it feel more like a regular business deal with a regular person. No, it's not fear. Am I forgetting something? Contract, note, impending feeling of doom pulled from the pit that is me worrying about being late for the match ... nope, I can't think of anything obvious.

              The door opens part way while I'm still mid-thought. Carnival, or what I can see of her, is standing with her arms crossed and her head tilted to one side, her face an equal mix of confusion and mild frustration. The hallway is empty, so that's lucky. Actually, she probably waited until she was sure that no one else was out here. And that I wasn't going to knock. How did she know that I was out here though? I definitely didn't speak.

              Carnival snorts impatiently and everything suddenly falls into place. "That's it," I grin. "You could smell me. And this was totally a test to see if you'd know I was here
and
see whether you'd take the lead by opening the door. That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

              I continue to smile widely because it increases the chance of convincing myself and so also improves the chance of convincing other people that what I said was totally not grasping at straws. Carnival relaxes her shoulders, rolls her eyes and shakes her head with an exasperated sigh.

              "Hey, be fair. I bet John does far more annoying things than that."

              The raspberry I get in response serves to confirm that I'm a lot more relaxed around Carnival than I was before. In fact, it was almost cute in a slightly unnatural but a little bit cartoony sort of way. She waves me in with one arm and nods her head to make sure I understand.

              "Sorry," I say, shaking my head. "I'm running late for my match already. I just wanted to drop these off." I hand her the bundle of papers in my left hand. "John came to say hi by the way," I say and she raises a curious eyebrow. "Nothing to worry about, just some rushed attempt at fact finding. He did say that you hadn't told him all the conditions you'd set to make the deal, but don't worry, he wasn't trying to find out what they were. He trusts you to tell him when you're ready, he just wanted to make sure that the papers were on their way so that you'd stop worrying. I'll tell
you
what I told
him
though. Read the contract
carefully
before the two of you sign it."

              Carnival nods and grips the contract tightly.

              "Oh, and on the off chance that John loses, I've left a note in there explaining how we'll get you backstage without switching you off. Stretchering you out would have been ideal but after Meera it'd be a bit distasteful. I don't expect John
will
lose, but just in case, you know?"

              The throaty noise that Carnival gives me in response sounds ... grateful, maybe? I nod and say, "OK, well, I'll see you a bit later on."

              She nods, grunts and waves her hands in a 'wait there' motion, then quickly disappears into the room, only to reappear just as quickly with her tablet. After a few quick taps, she shows me the message, 'TWO DOORS ALONG ON THE LEFT. YOU CAN CUT THROUGH THERE TO SKIP A COUPLE OF CORRIDORS. IT'LL SAVE YOU SOME TIME.'

              I smile. "Two doors along. Thank you."

              Carnival grunts nonchalantly and returns the smile.

              The two of us stand in an awkward silence for a moment. All things considered, if things were different, like entirely different, we could have been friends I think. "Good luck," I say at last. "With everything."

              I start heading off up the corridor and hear Carnival's door shut just before I reach the one she'd pointed out. The room beyond is empty bar a couple of rows of boxes lining two of the walls. I'd guess it's being used as a storeroom if it wasn't so empty. An overflow room maybe? Or I suppose they could have taken stuff out for today and are going to put it all back in again once the day is gone.

              Coming out the other end, I realise that I'm now just around the corner from the entrance area. If I didn't recognise the hall itself, then Slade's booming laugh pouring out of the room up ahead would have given it away. I trot up and pull the door open. "Sorry," I start as I step in, "I got caught up with ... ah."

              Stood leaning up against the door to the stage is an annoyingly pleased looking cantankerous old fart in an expensive robe. "Well, well, well," says Connor Ford, glancing at the clock above the main door. "A whole minute before the show starts. I'd point out how bloody useless you are with timekeeping but this, sadly, is a vast improvement on yesterday."

              The video fades in on the well-lit arena. The crowd, while still chattering uneasily, have recovered since the events of the last match and seem to be settling into the event again.

              "Ladies and Gentlemen," says Dirk Wylder. "By now you will all no doubt know what happened at the end of the semi-final bout between Fahrn Starchaser and 'The Silent Warrior' Laqueta. As you can see, we are now running behind our scheduled broadcasts, but I am assured that the final should go ahead as planned at five o'clock this afternoon, and that said match will be contested between the defending champion John Forrester and Fahrn Starchaser. I'm guessing that means that the Third Place Play-Off is off."

              "That should be pretty clear to anyone who saw that last match," Sam North cuts in, his voice far more sombre than usual. "An' as far as Laqueta's condition goes, we know about as much as you do."

              "As I understand it, before we move on to this year's bonus match, we'll be getting an on air update regarding just that. Fingers crossed, the news is good."

              Sam audibly sighs and replies, "If it was good news, do you really think they'd be doin' it this way? I don't know who they're sending out here or what they're gonna say, but I doubt it's gonna be cheery."

              The video continues in an awkward silence for a moment until Dirk finally cuts back in. "Well, here we go. I hope your wrong Sam."

              "Me too buddy. Me too."

              The camera pans around to the entranceway and remains focused on the curtain with the Big Screen following suit. Rather than draw things out longer than needed, a serious looking Connor Ford steps quickly onto the ramp and immediately starts to walk out toward the Battle Zone. Without his normal showboating, the crowd take a moment to realise who it is making their entrance, but once they do, a 'Connor Ford' chant starts to break out across the arena.

              Connor reaches the centre of the arena fairly quickly and pauses to take in the crowd reaction while a staff member dashes across towards him. After a brief conversation, he takes a microphone and ushers the man away, then silences the fans with his free hand.

              "Ladies and Gentlemen. Fans, staff and fellow competitors. Some of you may already be aware that, following her match with Fahrn Starchaser, 'The Silent Warrior' Laqueta was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. As her next scheduled opponent, it has fallen to me to announce Laqueta's immediate withdrawal from the competition." Connor pauses and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and continues, "It is with a heavy heart that I must confirm that, despite the admirable efforts of the E(E)SFC's in-house medical team, and those of the ambulance staff ... Laqueta died on her way to the hospital."

              With the announcement made, the crowd noise cuts almost instantly. Connor nods and continues, "It would be fair to say that no one wants Laqueta to be remembered as the girl that never finished a match. I personally would rather that she were known as the girl that, in her one tournament appearance, did not finish a match but still finished third. That being the case, let it be known that as of this moment, I am officially forfeiting the Third Place Play-Off and accept my final placing this year as fourth."

              The crowd begin a respectful round of applause, but Connor silences them again. "Thank you, but this is not the time. Only once before has a competitor died during a tournament. As we did then, I ask you to join me in paying our respects in the appropriate way." The veteran turns back towards the entranceway and places his arms behind his back. The arena lights fade down and the Big Screen cuts to a still of Laqueta during her first entrance.

              The electronic announcer speaks over the silence. "The Silent Warrior Laqueta. It is time to ..."

              "Light. It. Up," chants the crowd and the picture changes to another shot of Laqueta during the first day.

              "Light. It. Up," they cry again, and again the picture changes, continuing to do so with each subsequent chant.

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              "Light. It. Up."

              At the tenth chant, the screen fades to black and the lights come back up. The fans now applaud and cheer as Connor Ford slowly makes his way back up to the curtain.

              "You OK Sam?"

              "That right there is a good man, Dirk. You can feel the respect for him right now."

              "You certainly can. After that though, I think everyone here
needs
this next match."

              "Yeah, I think you're right. After what Connor Ford just did, it wouldn't be right to dampen things, ya know?"

              "Absolutely. OK, it sounds like we're about to get things started, so let's get back to the Battle Zone."

              The lights fade down again and the crowd start to cheer. A series of electronic beeps soon ring out over the speakers.

              "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," comes a voice dripping with an over the top upper class pomposity. "Prepare to be astounded, amazed and otherwise bamboozled. Momentarily, you will be faced with a vision that transcends your wildest dreams."

              "That's right brother dear," cuts in another voice, equally as mock posh as the first. "These fortunate few are about to embark on a journey that can only be described as a wondrous trip into what could be."

              "Ah, if only they weren't such hopeless cases. Such a sad state of affairs, is it not?"

              "A sad state of affairs indeed. In the spirit of fair play, a warning for those unimportant enough to have had to
pay
for their ticket tonight. Avert your eyes now, lest you be struck by sheer, unadulterated jealousy for a life that you can never attain. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we are Donal."

              "And Davey."

              "Delaney," the brothers yell in unison.

Song: Incredibly Richer Than You

Band: Emblem Productions featuring Donal and Davey Delaney

Genre: Novelty Pop

              With the fans now firmly settled into a round of boos and jeers, the notorious Delaney Brothers breeze through the curtain in a flourish of top hats, canes and cravats. The two laugh maniacally and give each other a respectful bow, then march their way down towards the Battle Zone, their noses in the air and heavily embroidered waist coasts sparkling under the arena lights.

              After their lengthy introduction, the remainder of the entrance is relatively short and so the music and arena lights soon lower once more.

              A familiar run of synth notes blares out over the speakers, leading the crowd in a sing-along until the expected countdown kicks in. The fans are quick to chant along as they await the arrival of the next team.

              5.

              4.

              3.

              2.

              1.

Song: Never Surrender

Band: Shotgun Drive-By

Genre: Arena Rock

              The entranceway is suddenly flooded in lights and pyro explosions as the guitars kick in and signal the entrance of Slade Fury and Lana De La Cruz. Wearing the same show gear as they did in their losing efforts yesterday, the two competitors walk out onto the stage and proceed to play to the crowd, Slade by marching back and forth letting off his trademark belly laugh at every opportunity, and Lana by gyrating and head banging in time with the music.

              Lana and Slade have very different looks and clearly hold different attitudes as to how to work a crowd. Even their walks as they start moving towards their Competitor Area differs greatly. Somehow though, the way they play off each other makes it clear that they are on the same page for the upcoming match.

              The arena lights come back up and the Connection Team make their way towards the competitors as the video cuts to the normal split screen.

              "Now, this is the first tag match we've had at the tournament for a few years, isn't it?"

              "Yeah, we've had winner stays on speed matches at the last two. There's been talk of developin' a whole tag division though so ya never know, maybe this is like a tester or something."

              "Could be Sam, could be. So for those not in the know, what are the main differences between a tag match and a normal match?"

              "Well, there are four people involved instead of two," Sam laughs. "Rules wise, the core stuffs the same. Standard deck sizes for each competitor, normal rules for damage an' data effects. The Data Fragment is shared, so most teams use an exclusive team card if they're using compatible Spark Forms. The charge for the Fragments have to be met by both team members though, so if it's a ten, that's five cards each."

              "And what about tagging? How does that work?"

              "Only the team in control can tag, an' there are two ways to do it. The standard way is that they each burn a card of equal cost value, an' the person tagging in carries out their next move using their reduced hand. If the last move used had an effect like preventing dodges or whatever, they carry over to the person tagging in. The second way is a double team tag. For that to work, both team members must have the same attack card in their hand an' both have the right number of cards to charge it. If the move is successful, then the opponent takes the damage from both of the attackers, an' both teammates can then drop a card to the Data Fragment. If the move fails, both attackers take the relevant damage an' effects from the defender."

              "And to win, both members of the opposing team have to be KO'd, right?"

              "Yeah, that's right."

              "So what about in matches where there are more than two members on each team, are there any changes to the rules there?"

              "Yes an' no, it really depends where you play. In some Colonies you can tag anyone else on your team, in others you have a set tag order that has to be followed."

              "And the Data Fragments are built by each team member in the same way as a normal tag match, aren't they? So for a Fragment that needs a ten card charge, each member of a three-person team would need to contribute a minimum of three cards."

              "Yeah, an' one member would add the extra tenth. If there are four or five people on a team, then it's a minimum of two cards each."

              "It's when people get eliminated that it gets complicated though, because that means some Fragments can't be used, doesn't it?"

              "Yeah, so you gotta be careful with what you choose. Combo based Fragments are safe because all that'll happen is that any cards dropped down by the eliminated player will be removed from the charge bar. The team members then just adjust the balance of cards an' they're good to go. If the Fragment requires a set number of people though, it's essentially dead once the team drops below that number of players. There is a way outta that though."

              "The 'Last Stand' rule."

              "Exactly. Once a team is down to one player, they can switch the Data Fragment with a single player Data Fragment an' keep the cards they've dropped down in the charge bar."

              "Rules aside, another thing to note is that, due to the number of participants, tag matches tend to run longer than normal matches."

              "Absolutely. I'm guessin' that's why they've made this one a speed match. Removing the charge effects of cards means no healin', so matches naturally end much quicker."

              "Don't forget, you can recover some health when you're not active though. Every three turns that you're on the side-lines, you naturally heal five damage."

              "Yeah, but you can only heal a max of twenty damage in total before the effect wears off. After that, you gotta have been fightin' again before you can heal any more."

              "Leaving the tag rules for now Sam, I just want to touch on speed match rules briefly. Your hand grows each turn you're in control, doesn't it?"

              "That's right, yeah, one card growth every attack, then it drops back to standard when your opponent takes over. Otherwise, without the charge effects, you wouldn't be able to get enough cards to use the bigger moves."

              "Well Sam, it looks like we're about ready to load up the Wicks, so let's head back to the Battle Zone."