\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1429281-Let-the-games-begin
Item Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1429281
An entry for the Create a Creature contest
Word count 2052. Edited 2 June.

Let the games begin


         Rver strolled through the fairground with his off-world friend Seth.
         His sleek brown fur showed a hint of grey about the muzzle and, like most of the crowd, he wore a sleeveless open jacket over a short kilt. The bright green and gold colours were in marked contrast to his friend's more sober blue tones.
         A sapper trotted alongside him, pausing every now and again to snuff air full of the scent of roast meat, and then bounding forward to rejoin his master.
         Two youngsters, obviously keen to enjoy the sideshows and stalls stocked with food, trinkets and colourful apparel, came running up.
          "Hey, Dad. Can we get over to the stadium and check out the competition?"
         Rver gave them a quick lick behind the ears and sent them on their way.
         Seth glanced down at the sapper. "Good looking creature," he said. "What's he called?"
          "Multifaceted Responsive Enquiry," Rver answered with a grin.
          "Good grief!"
          "Silly isn't it? But if you want to breed saps you've got to follow the naming conventions. We call him Emery."
         At the sound of his name the sapper looked up and panted happily. Two pointed ears set on the side of a rounded skull swiveled towards the speaker.
          "Em's been bred for sports," Rver continued, "but he's still young. Not had many outings."
          "We've got nothing like them back home," Seth said.
         The sapper was just under a metre high at the shoulder and had a short, thick neck and a long back. His legs were muscular with large feet that at the moment were splayed out with four toes pointing forward, one backward, each ending in a retractable claw. He could curl and clench the toes to stiffen the muscles and make his feet as tough as hooves, necessary for long journeys on hard ground. His shoulders were narrow and his hindquarters broad to accommodate a complicated hip bone that allowed him to stand upright and move almost as easily on two legs as he did on four. When standing he was two-and-a-half metres tall. A bony ridge jutted above his eyes, his nose was flat with broad nostrils, his mouth wide with sharp teeth and his chin receded. He was covered with very short, coarse hair so pale that from a distance he usually looked naked but today his body had been painted in a green and gold pattern that matched Rver's clothes.
          "Our racing animals are taller and sleeker," Seth commented. "They need to be big enough to carry a rider. I wonder how they'd do in these games."
         Rver shook his head. "They're more than just races, you know. We've got climbing, jumping, wrestling, all sorts of obstacles. And then there are the little extras that make things more interesting."
         His friend raised his eyebrows. "You'll see," said Rver.
         They joined the throng of owners and trainers heading for the competitors' entrance. Today's three events were for beginners, intermediates and veterans. Each would take about an hour so the intermediate and vets' compounds held only a few contestants, mostly curled up sleeping in the sun.
         The beginners' pen was a noisy scrum of brightly painted sappers of varying shapes and sizes.
         Rver signed in and pushed Emery through the gate where a handler painted a large number on his back and slapped a tracker chip at the base of his skull.
         Emery joined the scrum and began jostling, sniffing and eyeballing the competition looking for a psychological advantage before the games began.
         Rver and Seth went to find a seat in the rapidly filling stadium.
         The oval playing field was about 200 metres long and 70 across. A hard-packed dirt track surrounded it while a complex path wound sinuously through four separate stations occupying the centre. A forest of poles filled one station. They varied in height and thickness and were different distances apart. The taller ones were set on thin metal columns about 10 metres high and atop the tallest a red pennant snapped in the breeze.
         A huge cubical frame occupied another area. It was criss-crossed by ropes and resembled a three dimensional web spun by a crazy giant spider. A green sphere rested at its centre.
         The third area was filled with a wide pool of blue water. Boards and bars jutted out from the ends, some clear and others coloured. Ropes, rings, wires and beams of varying sizes were suspended above it at different distances and heights. From a distance it looked like psychotic builders' scaffolding.
         The final station was a level space marked with concentric circles.
          "That's a wrestling arena," said Rver.
         The music swelled and thousands of voices cheered as about a hundred sappers trotted out onto the field. As they ran slowly around the perimeter track first one then another would stand upright and leap high into the air while the crowd roared its approval. After a single circuit some peeled off and headed for different stations.
          "The tracker chips tell them where to go," Rver explained.
         The music rose to a crescendo, a voice called, "Let the games begin," a bell sounded and all over the field the sappers erupted into frenetic activity.
         Around the perimeter they raced flat out, legs pumping, sleek muscles rippling, eyes seemingly fixed ahead, but if two saps came close they would shoulder-charge and try to bump each other off the track.
         Seth turned towards Rver who said, "Yes, it's all legal. No teeth allowed and claws only when climbing but if you can push a rival out of the game area he's disqualified."
         The spectators groaned as first one then another competitor was bounced off the track. The disappointed sappers picked themselves up and headed disconsolately back to the beginners' compound.
         The aim was the same along the winding path. It twisted and turned, narrowing dramatically in places so the overall speed was slower but losers went flying into other stations often bowling over the players there.
         Emery was at the poles. He was among the first to reach the station and leapt for one of the lower posts, claws extended, then immediately began climbing.
         A red and black painted sapper vaulted on below him and began scrambling up. Em glanced down and increased his speed. As he neared the top, without pausing he jumped for a nearby pole. It was occupied by a yellow painted sap but Em landed a little higher and used his adversary's shoulder as a footrest then continued his high speed ascent. Red-and-black sprang after him but yellow had recovered and grabbed one leg pulling him back down.
         As the pair tussled Em made two quick jumps to get to one of the higher pillars.
         Up in the grandstand Rver yelled enthusiastically.
          "This is one of Em's best events," he told his friend then turned back to cheer again.
         Some competitors seemed to have different tactics. Instead of heading upwards as fast as possible they were hanging around on the lower poles, often in groups of three or four, pushing, pulling and shoving each other. Now and again a sapper would be forced off to fall to the ground.
          "What's going on there?" Seth asked.
          "If they touch the ground they're disqualified. Those fellows are cooperating now because the more saps that get eliminated in the early rounds, the easier it'll be for those left later on. And they won't be cooperating then, believe me!"
         Seth winced as a sap hit the dirt.
          "Aren't they ever injured?"
          "Very rarely," Rver answered. "They're very agile, nearly always land on all fours. And they're bred to be tough, as I should know!"
         A loud beep announced five minutes had passed, five to go. From now on there was a beep every ten seconds.
         Meanwhile Emery had changed poles again but was below a blue striped contestant who suddenly stopped climbing and crunched legs and body into a compact ball. Em took advantage and moved up close but blue-stripes judged his moment well. He kicked back powerfully to land a glancing blow on Em's head then continued up. The green and gold sapper was stunned for a moment and clung to the pole with all four legs. From below someone grabbed him and started tugging.
         One minute to go and the beeps picked up to every five seconds.
         Em shook his head to clear it. The claws on three feet dug deeply into wood while he kicked back desperately with the fourth.
         The last ten seconds were counted down by everyone in the stadium. A hooter sounded. He was reprieved.
         The sappers screeched to a halt, disentangled themselves, dropped or climbed to the ground. Some 70 remained on the field.
         Seth gazed in fascination as the brightly coloured creatures rushed to their next station at breakneck speed.
         Rver nudged his friend and pointed towards the blue pool. Emery had beaten the pack to a springboard jutting over the blue water. He bounced twice and soared up to clasp a dangling rope then swung back and forth like a pendulum. At the edge of the pool other sappers were making their way along clear plastic beams that were shoulder width at the ground but tapered as they angled upwards. Some were rigid while others, more flexible, vibrated with the running feet.
          "This section's all about balance and agility," Rver explained. "Some of the beams are wood but all the colourless obstacles are hard plastic, claws can't dig into it. The idea is to get to the other side of the pool but these beginners won't make it that far. There's no obvious path so they've got to climb up and down using momentum to keep going. If they slow down they're in danger of slipping off. And anyone nearby will always give a push to help speed them into the pool." As he spoke a large splash marked the landing place of one hapless competitor. "The water acts like a safety net," he added.
         Em was now scampering along a series of short bars set at angles to each other and the horizontal. He twisted, turned and jumped moving rapidly, sometimes up, sometimes down but always edging nearer to the middle of the pool. The bars he was using came to an end at a wide space with the only way forward via a very long wooden seesaw suspended from above. Fortunately the near end was moving slowly down as he approached and he leapt forward, claws extended, to grasp it. The seesaw swung almost vertical under his weight but he climbed swiftly to the fulcrum. As he passed the mid point, the beam began to tilt back towards the horizontal, slowly at first but picking up speed as he moved further along. This was the tricky part. To get to the nearest bar on the far side of the space he had to jump from the beam when it was about fifty degrees below the horizontal. That meant a rapid run to reach the end before the rate of rotation increased and swept him down too far. If he misjudged he would either fall or the seesaw would carry on until it became vertical again and he'd have to start the climb once more. Timing was critical. He paused, ran forward, tensed and jumped.
         Suddenly fireworks exploded in the air above the field. Bright streamers lanced towards the ground, the noise was deafening and Emery looked up for just an instant.
         His out-flung legs hit the target bar but he was off-balance and though he scrabbled to gain purchase he slowly slid sideways and plummeted into the water below.
         Em was out of the competition. He climbed dejectedly out of the pool and padded back towards the compound along with a dozen or so losers from the other stations.
         Up in the grandstand Rver shook his head in resignation.
          "They're not very bright, you know. Easily distracted," he sighed.
          "Is that why they're called saps?" Seth asked.
         Rver chuckled. "It would be appropriate," he replied, "but no. After the great meltdown at the end of the Plasticene era, archaeologists recovered a few bones with functional DNA for the scientists to slice and dice and clone." He pointed. "Saps are the result. The name comes from what they used to call themselves. It was sapiens. Homo sapiens."
© Copyright 2008 RaroMama (wevans at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1429281-Let-the-games-begin