| |
Our steers drop us at the base of a turret, where we wait while the coaches get us organised. Nobody waves farewell to the departing steers. That isn’t the done thing in the Merge.
When the coaches are satisfied, we climb a set of stairs, the players at the front, the coaches just behind, the backroom team bringing up the rear. We’re stopped at the top by a large, round woman in white robes. And when I say large and round, I mean unnaturally so. She’s been remoulded to look like a huge beach ball with a head and arms stuck on top. She must be at least three metres in diameter. I wonder how she keeps her balance, but she shifts while discussing something with our coaches, and I see that her feet are massive, and the mystery is solved.
“That’s Julia Vox,” Inez tells me as lots of the team murmur with excitement. “She’s famous. I’ve transported her to events a few times.”
“I’m surprised she was able to fit inside you,” I mutter, and Inez elbows me.
“Don’t be rude,” she snaps.
“I didn’t mean to be,” I groan. “I just didn’t think you could spread your arms wide enough to create a borehole for someone that big to fit through.”
“It was a challenge,” Inez allows.
“What’s she famous for?” I ask as Julia moves towards the centre of the turret.
“You’re about to find out,” Inez replies.
Julia stops and turns slowly, raising her hands as high as they can go (which isn’t very high). As she turns, she speaks, and her voice is incredibly loud — I actually flinch and take a step backwards.
“LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND LOVELY, SWEET CHILDREN,” Julia shouts. “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR THE BRAVE WARRIORS OF SAPPHIRE!”
There’s a huge round of applause, with lots of jeers mixed in with the clapping.
“NOW, NOW,” Julia chuckles, and it’s the sound of a small avalanche, “LET’S BE NICE. WE WOULDN’T WANT THEM THINKING WE’RE STILL SOUR OVER THE WAY THEIR LITTLE VOTE WENT LAST YEAR.”
Almost everyone in the crowd laughs. Most of the people on the other turrets laugh too, except for those in one group, who scowl darkly. I think I’ve pinpointed the Rubes.
“I KNOW YOU’RE ALL DYING TO BE INTRODUCED TO THE GROPSTERS,” Julia roars, “SO LET’S BRING THEM ON WITHOUT ANY FURTHER WAFFLING FROM ME. FIRST UP, THEIR REDOUBTABLE CAPTAIN. I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE THIS FIERY FEMALE IN ACTION. SHE’S FIERCER THAN A LION AND FASTER THAN A GAZELLE. LET’S HEAR IT FOR OLIVIA HUMMINGBIRD!”
The place goes wild. There are no catcalls now, just cries of support. Even the Rubicons are applauding. It seems like the official introductions are respected by one and all.
I cast an eye over the other teams while Julia Vox is naming and praising our players. The Rubicons are dressed in red, with clenched fists stitched into the fabric. The members of another team are dressed in yellow with bluish icicles adorning their chests, and I guess those are the Topazers.
I hadn’t given much thought to our outfits, but now I realise we’re wearing blue because that’s the colour of sapphires. Rubies are red, and I’m pretty sure you can get yellow topaz stones. I figure the other teams are wearing colour-coded clothes too and decide to see if I can work out their identities without asking Inez.
The gropsters to our left are dressed in green, with hieroglyphic symbols running across them — they’re surely from Emerald. That just leaves the team dressed in white, with no adornments at all, who must be from Pearl.
“Do you want me to point out which realms the teams are from?” Inez asks.
“No need,” I reply smugly, and point. “Ruby, Topaz, Emerald, Pearl.”
“Impressive,” Inez smiles. “You seem to know a lot about precious jewels. That’s good news if you’re ever looking to give me a nice present.”
Julia’s still introducing the players. She uses their positions instead of surnames, so it’s Olivia Hummingbird, Cal Blocker, and so on. I wonder if she’s going to introduce the rest of us the same way, and if that means I’ll have to go by the name of Archibald Bandages for the rest of the tournament, but when she’s processed the final player, she turns to Pitina.
“THEY’RE A FINE LOOKING BUNCH,” Julia yells, “BUT WE’VE SAVED THE FINEST TILL LAST. IT’S YOUR FAVOURITE SAPPHIRITE ROYAL AND MINE, QUEEN PITINA!”
I expect another huge round of applause as a smiling Pitina steps forward with a raised hand, but to my surprise the stadium begins to fall silent. At first I think this is a mark of respect, but Pitina looks confused and Julia does too. The women stare at one another, and the others around me mutter with bewilderment. Then Inez lays a hand on my arm and says softly, “Look.”
She points towards the river of blood, and I see what’s silenced the crowd. A boat has appeared out of the tunnel and is drifting towards the final, unoccupied turret. There are seventeen players on it, clad in translucent outfits, studded with clear gemstones. I count another eleven people on the boat, not including the steer, who must be the coaches and backroom team. Twenty-eight people in total, not even enough to fill a playing squad.
“The Diamonds,” Julia breathes, her voice coming out like a normal person’s for once. “We didn’t think they’d send a team.”
“It’s not much of a team,” Pitina says, and it’s the brutal truth. Whereas the other gropsters all have the sheen of highly trained athletes, these look like ordinary men and women. There are even a few teenagers among them, blinking edgily, trying to stand tall and proud, but unable to disguise their nervousness.
Diamond is a doomed realm, resting on the frail shoulders of its one remaining royal, the elderly King Lloyd. When he dies, the realm will be ripped apart and added to the mess of the Lost Zone. Most of its citizens have fled, to begin new lives elsewhere, but a few stayed, and someone must have scraped together the spine of a team to represent the falling realm. They couldn’t find thirty players, but seventeen have made the journey and intend to compete, even though they surely don’t stand a chance.
There’s something incredibly sad about the sight of the people on the boat – they look tiny and vulnerable – yet at the same time I’m filled with admiration for them, as they clearly intend to go down fighting.
“Do you want me to send them back through the tunnel?” Julia asks Pitina. “They shouldn’t have entered until you were finished.”
Pitina shakes her head, and to my surprise there are tears in her eyes. “Let them come,” she croaks. “This is their moment, not mine, and they’re welcome to it.”
The boat pulls up by its landing point and Julia hurries away to get to the turret before the players climb up. There are no stairs on the inland-facing sides of the turrets, just gentle ramps down to the heart of the island. She moves with a curious waddling motion when she runs, but gallops along at a fair old speed.
Someone in the crowd starts to clap while the gropsters from Diamond are still on the stairs, and others quickly join in. The Diamonds look around with surprise, then carry on, walking with more confidence now. Julia is there to greet them when they get to the top, by which time the applause is deafening.
“PEOPLE!” Julia shouts, and I can only just hear her. “YELL YOUR HEARTS OUT FOR THE HEROES OF DIAMOND!”
Everyone roars as loudly as they can. Julia starts to introduce the players, but I don’t hear a single name, and I don’t think anyone else does either, because not even the giant-lunged Miss Vox can be heard over the cries of the crowd. Any other time, I think that would put her nose out of joint, but she doesn’t care today. For a short while, grop has been forgotten. These cheers have nothing to do with the Tourney. I don’t think they’re even for the Diamonds, really.
This applause is for something greater. It’s for the desire to take part even when failure is assured. It’s for the refusal to accept defeat when the writing’s on the wall. It’s for the ability we all have to live proudly and fearlessly, even when the grim reaper is breathing down our necks and waiting to claim us for his own.
This applause is for the unquenchable flame of the human spirit.
This applause is for the battle that everyone can choose to fight.
This applause, in a sphere of the dead, is for life.