Chapter 2:

They'd At Least Have You

Plaid: The Glass Tower


KIAN

By the time the trio reached the announcer’s box, the fight up above appeared to be nearing its end.

“—and Rallus throws yet another mighty left hook! And, oh? What’s this? Kreega the Rosewood Plate Challenger has been knocked off balance! How will he respond? No challenger yet has been such a match for Challenger Kreega! Ladies and gentlemen, viewers everywhere, how will this fight end?!”

“Won’t you look at that.” Emi began, voice flat, “It really is Dr. Rallus.”

“And apparently he’s more than capable of winning this match.” Druce added.

“Dumbass.” Said Kian.

Together with a semi-circle of over one hundred gaping spectators, their matching hair all aflame with a deep red brilliance, the trio watched the fight through the announcer’s enormous projector screen until the very end. The place was alive with activity. Kreega, the representative of Rosewood Plate, had already bested twenty-some challengers between tonight and the night before, so even though he was the target to beat for all Vermillion residents, he had pulled forward in public opinion as the favorite to win. The man was truly monstrous, after all. He wore Rosewood-colored garments in a rather patriotic manner: pink-red footwear that crawled to midway up his calf; pink-red bottoms that were little more than glorified underwear showing off an athlete’s muscular thighs, “Kreega” printed in big, white block letters on his posterior; and a loose-fitting pink-red muscle shirt which showed off his packed midriff, all matching the color of his fluorescent, buzz-cut hair.

In comparison, Dr. Rallus looked like a buff toddler who had dressed himself against his mother’s explicit orders not to. The doctor dared to take the stage in vibrant orange, yellow, and red colors—his orange athletic tee and yellow biker shorts so tight-fitting the crowd could see everything. And the red shoes with wings drawn onto the sides drew a grimace from Kian. So distracting, they were, that Kian almost missed the finishing blow.

The fight was called when Dr. Rallus sent the Rosewood Challenger stumbling off his feet. The heavyweight man crash landed hard on his face, and the place went wild with cheers. The roar was so deafening on Vermillion Plate that spectators watching the broadcast from home even thousands of miles away must have added to the noise, screaming their heads off in unison. The 25th Biennial Promotion Festival of the year 2072 had its first Vermillion winner in thirty years.

From his glass commentating box, the festival’s announcer scrambled up into the battle ring as the structure floated back down to ground level. “Dr. Martin Rallus,” he said, hurrying over to take the doctor’s hand and thrust it over his head, declaring him the winner amid roars from the crowd. “My, what a magnificent win that was! I think I can say with all confidence that no one, not one soul, believed you, of all people, could take down the Rosewood champ tonight.” Ouch, Kian thought as the man continued, “How did you feel going into this fight with the promise of a safer home for yourself and your family on the line?”

Before anyone among the friends could hear the doctor reply, Emi interrupted with, “Martin? Dr. Rallus’s name is Martin? How did I never know his name was Martin?” Her pronunciation became harsher each time she said it. “I don’t like Martin for him. Ew.” She shook her body as if to fling the name away.

“Emi. What the hell is wrong with Martin? It’s just a name! I mean, it’s true he doesn’t look like a Martin, but—” Kian paused, looked Emi’s tall, freckled frame up and down, “It’s not like you look very much like an ‘Emi,’ y’know?” He finished, then stepped away from any hands his friend might throw in a rage, “Just a thought.”

But Emi’s arms had fallen to her sides. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.” She whispered.

“So, your guys’ Martin just said that his family was packed and ready to move to Rosewood Plate like last weekend.” Druce broke into the conversation without a shred of delicacy. “He’s been training and everything for a couple of years, so he knew he’d win. Maybe ya’ll will wanna say goodbye now, ‘cause I don’t think Doc’s gonna stick around much longer.”

Instead of replying, Kian dug into Druce with the eyes of a dead fish. Druce’s shoulders tensed up to the ears, “Sorry.”

Kian sighed, “Whatever. You’re right, I gotta go ask that bastard some questions.”

“Whoa!” Emi protested, insisting that Dr. Rallus, his wife, and their son Senya deserved this chance of a lifetime just as much as any other Vermillion who attempted promotion. “No need for name-calling.”

Kian turn around when he mumbled, “You don’t understand,” and ran up the battle ring’s stairs as the announcer and Dr. Rallus were exiting.

“Hey, challenges are over, bud. You can’t be up here.” The announcer spoke, putting himself between Kian and Dr. Rallus.

Kian wanted to be understanding, knowing the man was just doing his job by protecting the winner, the doctor who seemed to have just gained the world—but he was also just two breaths away from shoving the man over the side of the six-foot tall staircase. Kian had almost a full head of height over the announcer’s shorter stature. He was sure he could send the older man flying.

And apparently, Dr. Rallus knew the same. “It’s alright, he’s with me.” He said, breaking the announcer free from Kian’s menacing glare. After the man had cleared the steps, Dr. Rallus surveyed Kian’s eyes a bit before saying, “Since when has there been such hardness in here?” He tapped the outer crease of his own left eye, indicating Kian’s.

Kian almost laughed at that one. “You know when. Since my brother died.”

“My boy, that was nearly nine years ago,” Dr. Rallus responded, a gentleness in his voice that flooded Kian’s ears, ate at his heart, and grated on his nerves.

Kian’s voice hardened when he spoke next, “And at that time, I became the eldest son and responsible for my family, the only one left to protect them. I know it’s icky and traditional to most people nowadays, but that’s who I am… And don’t call me ‘your boy.’ You’re getting the hell out of here and I bet you won’t even look back. Keep the games to yourself, old man.”

Kian’s heart was racing. He felt a familiar pain in his chest. Going by the troubled look on the man’s face, he knew Dr. Rallus wanted to respond to his outburst, and desperately, but he continued talking before the doctor could. “Anyways, I need you to do something for me if you can. So, hold off on moving for a few days. I think I deserve that much.”

Dr. Rallus blew out a breath long and slow, nodding his head. He put his arm around Kian’s shoulders and dipped his head low, “What is it this time?”

The two of them remained at the top of the stairs, facing the crowd. Kian could see Emi clearly. She looked curious, almost concerned, about their conversation. Kian wondered if she could sense his discomfort, how unscrewed he was. He hated her perceptiveness, especially to his problems above anyone else’s. Turning away from her stare, he said in a hushed tone, “I want you to perform surgery on me again.”

“Figured that, but—”

“Cut out my right eye and replace it with a replica that has a vision enhancing encryption in it. I don’t know—something. Get creative. I need to see enemies coming before they see me.”

Dr. Rallus failed to hide the look of shock on his face before Emi could see it. Face contorted into a look of anger more so than worry, she began stomping up the stairs, leaving Druce puzzled and staring behind. Kian reached into his pocket, fished around for whatever he hoped he’d find in there, and chucked it—half an eraser—at her. She dodged but didn’t advance further. He shooed her away with his hand and returned his attention to Dr. Rallus, who continued. “God, I—I mean, I can, but—”

“Good,” Kian didn’t let him finish. “Now one more thing. Someone snuck up on me earlier, like, very close.” He paused, chanced a glance at Druce who pulled a pout at their lips and cocked their head to the side. Playful, attractive, annoying. “Can’t have that again. I need something imbedded in me that’ll alert me.”

“Like a neurological signal.”

“Yes, exactly. Any time someone is intentionally following or sneaking up on me—something to signal danger. My instincts ain’t enough anymore.”

“That’s some tough shit you want me to do.” Dr. Rallus mused. Kian could tell he was thinking, imagining.

Dr. Rallus was much more than anyone’s ordinary medical physician; he was a tinkerer, an engineer, imaginative. Kind of a mad scientist.

“If it’s you, I know you can do it.” Kian insisted.

Dr. Rallus shook his head, slow at first, but then more vigorously. “No, I can’t, actually. Not to you, my boy. You’re turning yourself into… into something else, Kian, and I can’t keep being the one to help you do it!”

By ‘keep,’ Kian knew the doctor was referring to his artificial right hand. To camouflage its appearance as a mechanical prosthetic, Dr. Rallus had designed the hand to appear gloved, a dark black glove-like texture encasing the silver wires and various enhancement mechanisms that made up the special hand. Thankfully, the doctor had also weighted the mechanical hand against Kian’s left, allowing for balance and stability. But Kian wanted—no, needed—more. He was still too flawed.

Good thing this doctor was also a businessman.

“I’ll pay you 2,000 in cash, upfront,” Kian offered. He smiled a little when a moment of hesitation crossed over Dr. Rallus’s features. But it was a mere instant. In the next, Dr. Rallus’s eyes were on Kain’s, pooling with real worry and care. The intensity of it all forced Kian into a blinking frenzy and caused him to look away.

“You’ll end up becoming less than human soon. Very soon… And I don’t mean just your physical body. I’m worried about you, Kian.”

That voice again.

Kian sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll do anything I can to keep my mom and siblings alive. Wouldn’t you do the same?” He was having trouble keeping his voice down, to stop it from wavering.

Dr. Rallus hung his head and rubbed a circle on Kian’s back with the palm of his hand—a gesture he’d started in the boy’s adolescence. When he righted again, he inquired, “And if all of this tampering should end up killing you or blackening your heart, how might you protect them, then?”

Kian shook the doctor’s arm off his back and started back down the stairs. Over his shoulder, he called out to Dr. Rallus. “In the past, I liked to think they’d at least have you.”

Gokusgirl
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