Max Arena Read online

  Abdullah cast a sideways glance at this last comment, but held his peace.

  ‘Well, he can queue up like everyone else if he wants to be in the crowd,’ Max replied. ‘Abdullah? Fancy a few hands of poker?’

  Abdullah smiled. ‘I am sorry, Max,’ he replied, ‘but gambling is not permitted by my faith.’

  ‘We don’t have to play for money, which is probably a good thing, considering I’ve never played poker in my life.’

  ‘Really?’ Joe chimed in. ‘You’ve never played poker, Max?’

  Max shook his head. ‘Never had any friends to play with.’

  Joe’s eyebrows arched slightly as Max’s revelation sunk in. Without replying, he returned his pipe to his mouth.

  ‘So, Max,’ Peter said from a little further across to the side of the patio, ‘you’re telling us there’s something you’re not good at?’

  ‘Mate, rest assured,’ Max answered, ‘there’s plenty of things I’m not good at.’

  Peter nodded and held his quiet as he spied a foot patrol emerging from round the corner of the mansion to begin walking out onto the lawn, their night camouflage rendering them almost invisible, but not to his eyes.

  Joe broke into the silence. ‘That was an outstanding juggling act today, Max,’ he said. ‘How heavy were those kettlebells?’

  ‘Fifteen kilos each.’

  ‘Impressive. Have I told you I can juggle?’

  Max and even Abdullah turned as one to look at Joe. Peter also slid a sideways glance to his Prime Minister.

  ‘Not fifteen kilo kettlebells mind you,’ Joe added, ‘but in my hey day I could keep at least five balls airborne. Every now and again I still keep my hand in and do three or four balls. It helps keep my mind agile. Scientifically proven you know?’

  ‘I’m sure it is, Mister Prime Minister,’ Max said. ‘I can see you in your office, prepping for a cabinet meeting or a press conference, juggling away. You should put on a show for us some day. Millie and Jason would love it. Heck, I’d love it.’

  Joe smiled and raised his pipe in salute. ‘I’ll put it on the calendar. Not this week though. I’ll need some time to dust off the skills first.’

  ‘What about you, Abdullah?’ Max asked. ‘Any hidden talents?’

  ‘Brooms,’ the Sheikh replied.

  This time Max and Joe shared a look.

  ‘Brooms?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes, brooms,’ Abdullah said. ‘As a teenager I once balanced four brooms simultaneously. One standing upright on each outstretched palm. A third standing upright on my left foot and a fourth standing upright on the bridge of my nose.’

  ‘That’s...different,’ Max said.

  ‘Yes, and most rewarding too,’ Abdullah returned, ‘right up until the moment the broom on my nose slipped off and lodged into my eye and the whole show came tumbling down. Never again have I tried since that moment, preferring to retire at the peak of my prowess.’

  Max smiled. ‘What do you think, Joe? Fancy yourself at broom balancing?’

  ‘No,’ Joe replied. ‘Some people have the gift and well, the rest of us do not.’

  ‘What about you, Peter?’ Max asked, turning back to his bodyguard to find him looking upwards at the roof line of the mansion. ‘What’s your secret talent?’

  ‘I can put six rounds through the centre of a target at three hundred metres in less than four seconds,’ he replied evenly.

  Max deliberately paused to let Peter try again, which he did.

  ‘And as a kid I taught myself how to throw cards,’ Peter said. ‘You know, playing cards? I could flick them into a bucket four or five metres away and never miss. I’ve always been good with my aim.’

  ‘You still do it when no one’s around?’ Max asked.

  A slight pause and then Peter said, ‘Yeah. When no one’s around. It’s...well, you know, it’s fun. I reckon I could even beat you at it.’

  ‘I have no doubt,’ Max replied. ‘Like I said, there’re plenty of things I’m no good at it.’

  A mutual silence slipped over the group. Joe puffed away on his unlit pipe. Abdullah mentally traced the constellations overhead, while Peter continued to scan the surrounds. Max merely looked about at nothing in particular, shuffling his feet and folding his arms. The silence stretched and then Max broke it.

  ‘You really want to know what I’m no good at?’ Max asked. None of the other three men turned to face him, but all of them refixed their full attention onto him. ‘Emotions. I don’t do emotions very well.’

  Another brief pause ensued, which Joe ventured into.

  ‘You’ll have to help us with that one, Max?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Nar’gellans don’t do emotions. Feelings just don’t come naturally to them. Not even anger when they fight. Nar’gellans’ actions and behaviours are driven by purpose alone. If getting angry serves a purpose, they behave aggressively. If they lose a loved one, they move straight on past it. There’s no remorse or grieving. They just accept it and get on with their own lives.’

  ‘What about love?’ Abdullah asked. ‘Did your mother love you?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ Max answered, looking down at his shuffling feet. ‘As a kid, I knew Mum was hard on me, but I just figured she wasn’t one for cuddles and kisses, so I dealt with that, but then as I got older and she told me the truth of who she was and who I am, it all came together. If she had ever shown anything that looked or felt like love, it probably wasn’t real love. It was just a behaviour she used to make sure there was meaning in my childhood. Nar’gellans know as well as humans that children need to know they are safe and protected, so they can have confidence to grow and learn. That’s all my mother was doing for me when she acted like she loved me.’

  ‘And your human side?’ Abdullah asked. ‘Has it increased your capacity to feel?’

  ‘Maybe a little bit. I probably do have more emotional range and depth than any Nar’gellan does, but it’s all pretty shallow and most of the times pretty clumsy. I’d probably behave the same way at a funeral as I would at a kid’s birthday party. Dull. I just don’t know what to feel most of the time, so I try to avoid feelings all together.’

  ‘Do you feel love?’ Abdullah pushed.

  Max hesitated. Peter, Abdullah and Joe noticed the hesitation and let it play out.

  ‘Yes,’ Max finally replied. ‘It’s probably one of the two emotions I do feel clearly. I love my family, so much that sometime it’s dangerous.’

  ‘Why dangerous?’ Abdullah asked very carefully.

  ‘If anyone threatens them, it drives me into rage, which is the only other emotion I know I feel clearly. I don’t do angry. It’s too docile. If I get triggered, I cut straight to rage and as you can probably imagine, that’s not a good place for me to be. It can be bad for other people too.’

  Abdullah turned to face Max, his white robes gently billowing in the light breeze. Max tasted salt on the zephyr as he looked the Sheikh in the eye.

  ‘But, prior to your confrontation with those thugs outside Kris’ brother’s house,’ Abdullah asked, ‘you’ve never hurt anyone have you?’

  ‘Max shook his head and said, ‘No. Not before then.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Elsa. She’s had to intervene a couple of times. I won’t say when or why, but if she hadn’t stepped in, chances are I’d have blood on my hands. I know I’ve got it in me to kill. I’m half Nar’gellan and those instincts are hard to put down when they get fired up, but Elsa knows how to settle me down and for that I’m grateful. If she hadn’t saved me on those earlier occasions, Millie and Jason wouldn’t have a dad around them and for that, I’d never forgive myself.’

  Abdullah held Max’s gaze for a few more moments in the gloom. He then nodded and turned back to the sky. Peter also realised he had unconsciously halted his instinctive scanning of the surrounds and flicked his gaze back up to the fringing bushes around the lawn. The silence lengthened.

  ‘Well, I think it might be time for me to make that
call to President Bartholomew,’ Joe said, removing his pipe and sighing. ‘Thank you for your company tonight, gentlemen. It wasn’t poker, but it did help me to relax. May I also congratulate you all one more time on our successful media foray this afternoon. Time will tell, but I do believe we have already begun to turn the world’s despair into hope, so thank you and good evening.’

  ‘Masa`a al khair,‘ Abdullah said without turning.

  ‘Good night, sir,’ Peter added.

  With that, Joe turned on his heel and walked back inside as Peter spoke quietly into his wrist microphone, announcing the Prime Minister’s return into the mansion.

  ‘I think it’s time to get Peter into bed too,’ Max said, stretching his clasped hands over his head. ‘Come on, mate. Our work here is done.’

  Peter nodded and stepped closer to him.

  ‘You staying up, your Highness?’ Max asked.

  ‘Yes, for a little longer,’ Abdullah replied, not turning away from the night. ‘I have much left to reflect on.’

  ‘See you tomorrow then,’ Max said and he and Peter walked into the house, leaving Abdullah on his lonesome.

  Abdullah did not reply or even turn. He kept his gaze fixed squarely on the night sky, but his eyes were unseeing, his thoughts turned inwards. The afternoon media session that unveiled Max to the world had indeed proven to be a huge success and he felt very pleased and even heartened by their prospects as a result. However, Abdullah now had a new issue and it focused again on Max.

  His revelation of his immature emotional intelligence was a concern. If Max could not control his Nar’gellan instincts to kill, then he ran a real risk of losing his control in the arena and being defeated or even worse, seeking a glorious death like an ancient Samurai. That was out of the question and now Abdullah had a new goal. How to reign in Max’s Nar’gellan instincts, but not subdue them at the same time.

  Despite the lateness of the hour, Abdullah knew sleep would not come easily to him tonight.

  4:30pm, 10th September (almost 1 month later). Rescue

  Rain streaked down the car window, preventing Max from seeing much of anything outside. Not that it mattered. There was nothing to see anyway. They were on the freeway, elevated above the suburbs of Brisbane, but instead of cruising amidst a steady flow of traffic, the entire Team Max convoy was stationary and had been for at least the last ten minutes. If Max could see outside, he knew that all he would see is a car park.

  Sitting on his lonesome in the back of the central van, he occupied himself with only his thoughts. Max had just completed another public training session and was on his way home to the island estate via the airport. Elsa and the kids had stayed home this time and Kris had headed off to see her parents and brother. Max hated being apart from his family, even for only a couple of hours, which this trip was meant to be, but now with the freeway as mobile as a blocked artery, it was going to be even longer.

  Then Peter’s voice sounded over the internal speakers in the cabin. ‘We got a multiple car accident up ahead,’ he said. ‘Eye in the sky thinks there might be someone trapped in one of the cars too. Could be here a while. If you want, we can call the chopper in and air lift you direct off the freeway?’

  Max thought for a moment and then replied. ‘No. Not in this weather with all these people about. It’s too risky.’

  ‘Want me to dial up Elsa and tell her we’ll be late?’ Peter asked.

  Max thought again for a moment and then asked, ‘Are the fireys or paramedics on the scene up ahead or are they stuck in traffic just like us?’

  ‘Let me check,’ Peter said and then a minute later returned. ‘Looks like there’s one fire truck on site with another struggling through the traffic jam a kilometre behind us. No sign of any paramedics. I’d think about that air lift, Max. This isn’t going to get sorted out in a hurry.’

  Max pondered a little more and then said, ‘Get Elsa on the line and patch it through to my headset. I’m going for a walk.’

  ‘Not sure that’s a good idea, mate,’ Peter said as casually as he could. ‘What’s on your mind?’

  ‘Time for some air,’ Max replied as he grabbed his training bag and pulled out his training headset and a white cap.

  Retying his laces to make sure they were firm, Max then moved across and reefed open the sliding door. A grey veil of streaky rain filled the opening. Beyond it sat three lanes of stationery, smoking cars. Stepping out of the van, Max looked at the bright orange Team Max Land Cruiser directly behind his van and watched three of his security detail step out into the rain, their spray jackets concealing whatever weapons they carried underneath.

  Turning the other way, Max found another matching orange Land Cruiser in front with two more security personnel already on the bitumen next to it. Then the front door of his own van swung open and out hopped Peter, minus the customary sun glasses. Peter looked directly at Max.

  ‘Any chance,’ Peter started, ‘I can convince you to get back inside?’

  Max put on his cap and then slipped his headset over the top. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said, shaking his head.

  ‘I know where you’re going,’ Peter added, ‘and while I think it’s swell you to want to try and help out up there at the crash, we should leave it to the experts.’

  Don’t worry, mate. It’ll be fine.’

  Peter looked around as the rest of his security team converged on them, forming a tight cluster amongst the stranded traffic. ‘Max, the saviour of the world doesn’t just go for a walk through a jammed freeway and not cause a scene. Especially when you’ve still got your orange shoes on and a six person security detail surrounding you. This is not just a walk.’

  Max also took in the surrounds. Peter was right. He was already dragging attention in like a fishing trawler. Every car window in sight was wound down with faces gawking out. The camera flashes too had already started, the gloomy conditions not deterring anyone. Max knew that in minutes, his walk would be all over the internet. He turned back to Peter.

  ‘Well, let’s get on with it. After you,’ Max said, gesturing forward with his arm.

  Peter eyed him off from beneath a furrowed brow and nodded. Quickly he barked some commands to his team and they set off. Two of Peter’s team led the way, followed by himself, then Max and finally the last three of his team. In a tight single file, the group made their way down the dotted line separating the adjacent lines of stopped cars.

  From his headset, Max heard a phone number being dialled and then a ring tone. A few seconds later, Elsa’s voice sounded.

  ‘Hey, honey,’ Elsa said sweetly. ‘Whatcha doing?’

  ‘Trying to get home.’

  ‘Be a lot faster if you got back in the van.’

  Max kept walking, but baulked in replying. Clandestinely, he flicked his gaze skyward. ‘How do you know I’m not in the van?’

  ‘Facebook.’

  ‘I’m already on Facebook?’

  ‘TV too. Live feed. You know, it’s not fair that every time you get ants in your pants, you drag Peter and his team out to chase after you?’

  ‘They love it,’ Max said as he noted the now steady stream of camera flashes around them. ‘Makes them feel important.’

  ‘They are important, dear.’

  Max nodded as he watched Peter’s lead team members push a person back into his car and close the door on him.

  ‘Yeah. Sorry,’ he replied. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be flippant about that.’

  ‘What are you doing anyway? It’s not really the place for a walk?’

  ‘There’s an accident up ahead. The fireys are on site and I figured I could take a back seat and get stuck here for hours away from you and the kids or I could go lend a hand and maybe speed things up a bit.’

  A pause on the other end. ‘Ok,’ Elsa finally said. ‘You do what needs doing. We’ll make sure dinner doesn’t go cold.’

  ‘Thanks, honey. Knew I could count on you.’

  ‘Max?’

  ‘Yeah?’
<
br />   ‘You’re a good man and I love you.’

  ‘I know. I’ll see you soon. Bye.’

  ‘See ya.’

  The line went dead. Max looked in front. People were now out of their cars and filling the gaps between the vehicles, waiting for him to pass by. The shouting and camera flashes were constant and Peter’s team were working much harder to clear a path. Over the tops of the heads, Max could see the fire truck up ahead, its red and blue lights flashing on top of the cab, the rain making the colours sparkle.

  A few minutes later, Peter’s team broke through a thick ring of bystanders to step out into a clearing in the middle of the multi-lane road. The freeway at this point had elevated to three storeys off the ground to cross over a major urban arterial below. Up here the wind had also picked up and despite the slight chill, Max felt no discomfort, his sleeveless, full length black training compression suit, white cap and orange shoes all he had on.

  The centrepiece of the clearing was a mangled mass of steel, rubber and broken glass. Three cars had come to grief, clearly while at high speed. Rain diluted oil and petrol coated the bitumen all around, giving the ground a greasy look and filling the air with a petrochemical reek, but none of this deterred the firemen on site.

  Four of them crawled all over the wreckage, the pouring rain not slowing them down as they shouted orders and instructions to each other. Two other firemen crouched off to the side, administering first aid to two semi-conscious people laid out on blankets.

  Amidst the chaos, another distinct human sound rang shrilly out. Screams. Max lowered himself down onto his haunches and peered into the darkness inside the twisted pile of junk. The persistent flashing of the fire truck’s lights lit up a face.

  Deep inside the wreckage of the middle car, a young girl hung upside down, screeching uncontrollably. All Max could see was her face and the blood streaming down it. The purpose of the four firemen working the wreckage was now clear. Free the girl and do it quickly. All four men pulled, clawed and tore at the steel with hammers, cutters and their gloved hands. It was desperate stuff and from Max’s viewpoint, it looked dire.