Doubt (Incomplete) He opened the door, and stopped as his face twisted into a look of surprise that was quickly concealed. Negill had expected to see the uneven walls of earth, the wooden desk and a chair occupied by Yelsew Ralupopa. However, he hadn’t anticipated the presence of a strange young woman on the other side of Yelsew’s desk. All shades of white, except the most faded and dirty, clashed with the natural brown color scheme of the city, and the woman in the chair was not only wearing white, but was, in herself, snowflake white. Her hair resembled a puff of billowy cloud, both in color and in texture. It looked so light and thin that Negill expected the breeze from the fan above to float it away. Her skin was pale to the extent that the top layer was almost translucent. It was difficult to discern the thin layer of white clothe wrapped around her body from her actual flesh. The only hue on the woman that wouldn’t constituted as a form of white, was the line of black lashes outlining her eery blue eyes. These pupiled depths were open wide, starring at Negill. He was reminded of a deer he’d once glanced at only seconds before he’d shot it with his sling shot. He wasn’t actually reminded of the wounded animal, but instead of the people who got a nutritious meal from eating it; the citizens of Aspero... the Asperonians... his people... He looked upon Nieva as though looking on a deer or a blade of grass or a rock. She was not one of his and therefore, she was nothing to him, except perhaps a fragile blur of white contrasting against the browns. “This,” Yelsew indicated towards Nieva, “is why I called you and Ysmulc here. She’s a suavonian... obviously.” “Yes, quite obviously,” Negill said sarcastically. There were only two races inhabiting the planet. No one as fragile and pale as that young women could be mistaken for anything but Suavonian. She was ugly, as all people from Suave were. In Aspero, beauty was attributed to health and strength. In Suave, beauty wasn’t attributed to anything that made sense to Negill. The only characteristic of the woman he found intriguing were her eyes. If it weren’t for those two portholes of blue, he’d think she were a pale apparition lingering on the edge of death. Another older man entered, and immediately froze to examine the woman, just as Negill had, except that man had knocked first. Ysmulc Kezul was the only citizen of Aspero with any manners. His behavior was a mystery to most and few understood why every important decision made in Aspero had to include him. Even Negill and Yelsew, who were the ones doing the including, didn’t understand his importance. “Why,” Ysmulc emphasised the word with disgust, “is this young women in our city?” Yelsew answered, “She was discovered wandering around above. Lost I presume. I think it might be an oppurtunity. We could make a show of it to people, if you know what I mean?” Negill smiled. He gave no thought to the suffering of the Suavonian woman, only to the excalated morale of his people that her suffering might bring. “I like that,” he grinned secretively at Yelsew, “Let’s put her on the list for tonight’s contienda.” Ysmulc’s ears were opened to the conversation but his eyes were on the woman. Surprisingly, she was gazing back at him with the same intensity. He sighed, and then spoke, as though his words were a futile struggle against the inevitable. “Yes Yelsew... put her on the list... put her against one of the best... the sooner, the better...” His voice held a tone of such pensive desperation! Negill and Yelsew exchanged amused glances. From time to time, Ysmulc Kezul said odd things like that. No one thought much of it. He had very little authority. Infact, when it came to official authority, he had none at all. Heads turned and eyes lingered on her as she followed a man down the dimly lit corridor. Nieva stared right back. Never in her life had she seen such a large quantity of tanned skin. Every man and women was a tone of bronze that camouflaged them against the brown walls of the tunnel. Aside from their coloring, the most amazing characterisitic of the passing people, was their body shape. She was yet to be gawked at by a fat woman or a skinny man. Every citizen of Aspero seemed to be in perfect musclular health. She tried to press her hands against her thighs in an attempt to make them stop trembling. She tried to repress all the absurd and horrifying stories she’d been told about these people. But, all in vain, she trembled as she recalled the reasons all Suavonians fear6d the Asperonians. After the death of Trap Dnanidrer, and the resulting Suavonian lose at the Mysterious Battle, the Asperonians were classified as a primitive, barbaric culture who should be avoided at all cost. Although Trap Dnanidrer was killed long before Nieva was even born, she’d seen the picture of the bloody corpse discovered at the gate to Suave. For months before, the internet had been filled with articles on him and his desire to establish a peaceful relationship with the Asperonians. Then, to find that man who’d visited the foreign city with only noble intent, beaten to death and left on their doorstep... The Suavonians were outraged! By poplular demand, they had to wage war on the Asperonians. There were no picutres of the Mysterious Battle, hence the reason it was mysterious, but Nieva’d heard about the survivors. The Suave forces departed that morning with 10,000 men, expecting to easily crush the 200 primitively armed Asperonian forces. By mid-afternoon, as the Suavonians approached the enemy city, all the cameras and communication systems had malfunctioned. The people within Suave knew nothing of the battle raging outside of Aspero. For hours they either waited or tried desperately to regain communication... and then, the survivors started to return. Nieva knew the story by heart, because both her mother and father spoke of the Mysterious Battle constantly, as did everyone in Suave. The survivors upon returning babble insane stories, claiming that the Asperonian’s possessed powerful magic that could stop explosive bullets and crash spaceplanes. They swore that not a single enemy soldier fought with anything but their hands, feet and magic! No one ever decided for sure what had happened. After the Mysterious Battle, the city of Aspero was always a terrifying blemish of uncertainty in every Suavonian’s mind. And now, Nieva was walking past these strange people within their strange city of burrows and tunnels. She recoiled from their stares in the same way she would from any monster. However, at the same time, she tried to understand them. Every person in Suave, although frightened by the Asperonians, longed for peace and comprehension. Curiosity beckoned them to seek the truth about these so-called “misunderstood barbarians.” To be captured and admitted into Aspero, was every Suavonians nightmare but also, they’re most exhilirating dream... Nieva and the man passed through a gray door into a well lit room. As they went up a few flights of stairs, she watched the man’s shoulder muscles flex with each swing of his arms. He was topless like most of the men she’d passed in the hall and his back was disgustingly muscled. She wondered why. The Asperonians must be involved in some physical activity that required great strength. Now, coming to understand their grotesque appearances, she pitied them. They probably hated their bodies, but needed the strength to dig new tunnels or something of the sort. It must be tough to live in Aspero, she told herself, feeling good to find compassion even for these ghastly people. They passed through another gray door, at the top of the stairs, and emerged into a space surrounded by people. The man who’d led her, had already began yelling orders to the crowd. “Get outside of the yellow lines! The creyente is here! Get outside of the yellow lines!” The room was a perfect circle and everything was a dull metallic gray. The crowd backed up until not even a toe was past the yellow lines painted on the concrete floor. They all stared at Nieva. The man grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her against the railing ahead. The momentum of being shoved, slammed her against the rail so that she was peering down at a screen of black a few feet below. The railing made a circle around this black abyss and she shivered to think what might happen if that rail weren’t there. A monotone voice echoed across the room. “All spectators please move outside of the yellow lines... In solid red, ranking 3, KYLICOHN IAM!!!” the crowd around Nieva cheered and the voice continued, “challenging, in solid white... ‘cause that’s what she happens to be wearing... is a captive from the city of SUAVE!” The crowd cheered for her too, but she suspected it was for a different reason. “Contienda commence!!!” Nieva looked up quickly to see a man across the circle from her, dressed in red, jump over the rail in one swift movement and plummet into the blackness. What was going on...? “JUMP,” someone to the right of Nieva said. “You have to jump in to start the contienda,” someone else said. The entire room began to resound with men and women screaming about jumping over the rail. Nieva looked at them and then at the black screen. The Asperonians must be crazy if they honestly thought she was going to send herself falling into the unknown! She saw faces all around her yelling and the man who’d led her appeared. He casually grabbed her ankle and arm. By the time she realized his intent, it was too late to struggle. As he lifted her over the rail and dropped her a reasonable distance away from the walls, she let out a scream... She fell for a moment and then, to her amazement, passed right through the black screen, into brightness. She landed on a cushioned blue mat, but even the padding couldn’t make up for the fact that she landed mostly on her shoulder. She was tossed over the rail so spontaneously that she had little time to orient herself for landing. Her right arm throbbed with a pain she’d never felt. Nieva didn’t have a vast amount of experience with pain so even this minor bruising caused her head to spin. She began to stand up and survey the room. It was round with gray walls, only slightly smaller than the room above. A blue mat covered all of the floor. As she was taking in her surroundings, the left side of her face erupted into pain and her neck was jerked back. She barely had time to realize someone was kicking her before the next hit landed on her side. She groaned and collapse on the ground after another hit to her stomache. Her past experience with pain went as far as having scraped her knee ones and maybe bruised herself twice... Suave was designed to make random physical suffering obsolete, and when she felt a warm liquod flowing from her nose onto her lips, she knew she was going to die. She was laying on her back and she could see spectators leaning over the rail above to watch. Apparently the black screen became transparent after both players entered. The faces above seemed distant but she could faintly hear them chanting at her to get up. Then, for the first time, she caught a glimpse of her opponent. He stood, looking down on her. She had an image in her mind of how she must appear to everyone, laying there with her white skin and garments stained a brilliant red. She was only mildly aware of the warmth on her cheeks that was due to tears, not blood. Her opponent made a beautiful picture, even in Suavonian terms. His hair was a golden brown hanging in his attractive face. His beige, unblemished skin shimmered, and all of it was visible except the region his vibrant red shorts covered. She stared up at him with her potent eyes that looked expecially blue when surrounded by the red of her own blood. All she wanted before she died was to comprehend their motive. Why were they so intent on killing every Suavonian in existence? But more than that, she wondered how they could be so incompassionate. She could still hear the voices above shouting for her demise. Why coudn’t they understand that she was just as human as them? She didn’t want to be killed anymore than them. Why did they hate her simply for being of another race? Why did they think it was right to kill her when she’d done nothing directly to them? Why? Why, why, why... She focused these questions on the man infront of her. His shimmering golden face morphed so that every straight line was now curving down. The brown eyes gazing into hers looked almost glossed over with tears. He didn’t kick her. He didn’t move at all except to breathe in difficult gasps. Each of her own gasps contained an inaudible why-question. He hesitated and it was as if he could hear her. Suddenly, he held his breathe and squeezes his eyes shut only for moment, but when he reopen them, there was a change ever so slight. Nieva saw the shoulders sagging, and with them his will to fight. She couldn’t imagine how he’d heard her mental questioning, but apparently, he hadn’t found any answers. Nieva tried to stand up and found that she could... A voice exceeded the volumes of all the others. “KYLICOHN!!! BEAT HER NOW!!!” It was Ysmulc Kezul seemingly in another one of his strange moods where he babbled nonsense. Nieva’s opponent glanced up to smirk at Ysmulc in his crazy fit. As he looked back down to were she was laying, he saw that she wasn’t there...
Copyright © 2000 Ann Durden |