Ted Kosmatka - The Games

“Thrown all over Silas,” Ben added.

“Icing on the cake,” Tay said.

Silas smiled despite himself. “Okay, let’s see what this thing can do.” He turned toward the gate.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Tay gestured back toward the observation loft again.

“Nah, I want to be down close to the action. I’ll take my view from here,” Silas said. Ben followed him out of the enclosure, and Silas checked the locking mechanism on the gate twice.

The two men watched through the bars as Tay ascended the stairs. He stepped through the door into the loft and waved to them through the glass. Then he moved toward the front, and his arms played across a console hidden from view beneath the row of windows.

A moment later, the robot buzzed as it powered up, and then the arms slowly lifted in long arcs, flexing and extending. The robot twisted and jabbed for half a minute before the hatch portal clanged in the back wall.

The hatch opened.

The gladiator entered the enclosure slowly, as if sensing that something was wrong. It had grown since the goat incident, now approaching seven feet in height. Wide nostrils sniffed the air, and its eyes locked on the robot. It stared for several seconds without moving before beginning a slow creep forward. Staying low to the straw, it moved on four bent limbs, wings folded tight and flat against its back.

The robot spun smoothly on its axis, bringing two arms into striking position. The gladiator’s slow approach slowed further as it closed the distance.

Twenty feet out, it stopped. Muscles bunched in its legs. It gathered itself, tightening to stillness, crouching like black stone—limbs cocked beneath it, eyes glaring across the lake of straw.

Silas realized he was holding his breath.

The gladiator’s ears folded back. Then, like a black sheet of lightning, it sprang.

It hit the robot hard, rocking it backward, digging in. Metallic arms spun, and the gladiator bounced away just ahead of the blow. It turned, maneuvering quickly around the other side. It struck again, rocking the robot forward. Claws dragged along the surface of the Teflon, searching for purchase. The robot spun again, and this time banged a glancing blow off the creature’s side. It howled and slid away.

The gladiator moved faster now, circling just beyond reach. It went around once, twice, then came in low, ducking below the upper ring of the robot’s arms. It struck fiercely, clamping down on the Teflon with its jaws. Silas was certain that an opponent of flesh and blood would have lost its guts to the floor at this point, but the Teflon gave up nothing, and a blow from one of the robot’s lower arms sent the creature sprawling away, screaming in rage.

It came in again, howling, and again was knocked away. And again, and again, until froth ran from its mouth. After a particularly damaging blow, it sank slowly to a crouch, hissing, and this time it paused. Its chest expanded and contracted in enormous heaving breaths while it considered the enemy.

Without warning, it struck again, high and hard, rocking the robot back again. Instead of gouging with its claws, it clung to the top as it carried through, swinging its weight around and pulling down. The robot teetered at the edge of balance for a moment, then crashed to the floor, pinning half of its arms beneath its weight. Now the gladiator moved in at the base, tearing at the pads with its teeth and talons. A pad tore loose from its wire clasps, exposing the metallic shielding beneath. The creature howled and backed off, while the robotic arms thrashed impotently.

“That’s about enough, don’t you think?” Ben asked.

“I was thinking that very thing,” Silas said. He raised his arms and waved to Tay, but Tay only grinned down from the observation loft and made exaggerated “come on” gestures to the gladiator. The creature caught the movement and looked up. Tay smiled bigger and waved. He was enjoying this.

The gladiator responded, and this time its movement was not smooth and controlled. It moved with all the grace of a thing deep in a fit of rage.

The wings unfurled as it bounded across the enclosure. With a giant leap and a single flap of the enormous wings, the gladiator swung through the air and smashed into the window of the loft. It fell in a crumpled heap to the straw, where it lay, stunned, on its back for several seconds before regaining its footing.

Gathering itself, it backed up and leaped again, slamming its talons against the glass without effect.

Tay’s expression was still one of amusement, but he took an involuntary step backward for the third attack. After falling to the straw again, the creature backed up for another assault, then stopped. Its eyes traced the staircase up the wall. Slowly, it moved across the enclosure to the bottom of the stairs, then climbed upward in long four-limbed strides. Tay leaned forward against the glass now, looking for the gladiator, but he was unable to see what it was doing.

The boom against the thick metal door snapped his head around. The door looked solid to Silas, but Tay hadn’t said a thing about it being bulletproof. The gladiator struck again, surging forward and slamming against the door with its powerful hind limbs.

Tay’s face changed. This was not part of the training procedure. His hands moved across the console, and a moment later, Silas recognized the clank of the hatch. The gladiator turned its head toward the door opening in the far wall and paused. Then it continued its assault.

“This is getting a little out of control,” Silas said.

“That’s a steel-plated door. There’s no way it’s getting in,” Ben said.

“Still, this isn’t productive. I want this session stopped now.”

The gladiator’s black form thrashed frantically against the door, and the whole staircase shook. The door’s face was scarred and dented now but still held strong. Something about the door caught the gladiator’s attention, and it leaned forward.

It closed its mouth around the heavy doorknob.

It bit down.

There was a crunch, and then a squeal of tortured steel as the thick, silver knob partially dislodged from the frame. The gladiator jerked its head back again, and the knob pulled completely loose, trailing a twisted metal mechanism behind.

Behind the glass, Tay’s tanned face whitened visibly.

Silas moved forward unconsciously, wrapping his hands around the cold iron bars.

The gladiator bent down again and stuck a taloned finger to the wound in the door. It hooked something, pulled, and a shiny rod tore free from the tangled hole where the doorknob had been. Tay’s face was panicked now behind the glass, and he backed away from the door. Even across the distance of the compound, Silas knew what that little rod had been.

“Hey, over here, hey!” Silas called, sticking his face to the iron, screaming at the gladiator until his throat was sore.

Ben followed his example, bellowing through the bars, “Felix, hey, get down from there. Get over here! Felix! Felix! Felix!”

The gladiator ignored their shouts and beat on the door with its arms. This time the door shook and rattled in the frame. Tay’s back was against the wall, face drained of color.

The gladiator heaved forward and struck a massive blow with its right arm, and the door bent inward several inches at the top. The creature stopped its attack and moved its face close to the gap, looking in. Tay’s mouth opened soundlessly beyond the glass. The creature struck the door with both arms, and the door twisted on its hinges. Without the bolt securing it in place, it was just a piece of steel. The next blow bounced it in its frame. A gap showed along the side.

Silas and Ben screamed again, louder, trying to get its attention.