Chapter 13: A Visitor from the Past

Owen’s burial is somber occasion, where everyone stands in a half circle around a hole in the ground while his body is carefully lowered by L10N3L into the hole. The body had been cleaned and new clothes placed on it by the gentle simbot before this ceremony and the only reminder of that unfathomable event is the angry dark circle around his neck from the knotted sheets he had used to take himself out of the world. Those present saw smoldering anger in Lainee’s eyes as she watched Lionel move methodically and gently; maybe thinking perhaps he should just dump him unceremoniously in the hole and kick dirt over him instead of this more stately and dignified manner.

It is done before long and everyone seeks solace in their own company; most fighting their own failings in the last round or hidden fears that they could be next to leave their mortal coil behind. Whatever their demons, they all went apart from each other in the limited space the Arena has to offer to tend their own affairs.



Simon is standing on the battlement; looking out on the river and listening to the soothing sounds of the rushing water over the rocks and chirping of crickets. He knows he did well in the last round, but it felt like luck more than his skill kept his alive yesterday. He has the notion that Rowena had had something bothering her; she had been a bit distracted during their match and that is the only reason he’d defeated her. While he certainly doesn’t wish her ill will, he hopes she will go before he does; but he really doubts his luck will hold out much longer. For nearly an hour, he wallows in self-pity but when an idea slowly dawns on him and then grows to a more detailed narrative, he decides to seize the opportunity; as he may not get another chance at it.



While he knows he shouldn’t have one, he pulls out his concealed cell phone and looks around carefully before dialing, hoping that they haven’t changed their number in the last six months, the last time he talked to them. “Hey, it’s me.” He says simply and without preamble, knowing he has to be quick so Lainee doesn’t find out. A sleepy voice on the other end of the line replies and he continues as they listen. “I had this idea… I want you to come to see me. I can’t say much, but I really want to see you… you can meet me at the park above the Redwood Heights Lodge here in Hidden Springs if you agree.” He says hopefully, and fearful at the same time since they could easily say no, or maybe they have no reason to come. “I want to see you too, perhaps catch up on things; I can be there tomorrow sometime.” The voice says and his spirit soars with the news, glad they said yes. “See you then.” He says casually and hangs up, his steps lighter than they have been since he first stepped foot in the arena.



Not too far away Tarik is sitting alone, staring into the inviting flames of the campfire and lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t know Owen well, but he still misses the gruff soldier and feels sadness at knowing the man had no family to leave behind, no one that really cared for him as a man or even as a human being. Here he knows the others likely feel much as he does regarding the man, but in a morbid fashion are glad it is him gone, and not themselves. He doesn’t believe that at all; in fact, he is prepared to die when it is the will of Allah, now that his God has been restored to him after so long hiding in the darkness of his soul. Thoughts on Owen’s lack of family brings around thoughts of his own and he wonders if he will ever see them again this side of heaven, or if he will have to wait until they join him. He cries visibly in the depths of his own pain, feeling the loss as keenly as a knife plunged into his back.

His tears fall freely for many long minutes, almost washing away the heaviness in his spirit and bringing a new sense of purpose to this normally passive man. He vows to himself and to Allah that whatever happens from now on will be Allah’s will and he will face it as he should; with shoulder back, head up and a scream of defiance to his last breath.



Below him and across the arena, Saraya is battling her own inner demons as well; one by the name of Antonio. Ever since she first started competing with him she has been vexed by how easy it is for people to like him; even though she has more talent in her left nipple than he does in his whole miserable body. It was more than that she comes to realize, now that she is finally being honest with herself. She was jealous of the attention he got from other women when she had been standing right there, and most were flighty little things without a thought in their head beyond climbing into bed (or under the bleachers) with him for long enough to get their tickle-heart attended to. She had made her feelings known to him early in their tryouts for the Olympics and he had just laughed at the time. They had shared their pain and anxiety, their tears and triumphs during the tryouts and even into the Olympic Games. They had spent many nights together in the tent they shared, celebrating victory after victory; each passionate encounter was like another victory for her and she fell for him hard.

As the press began to gravitate towards the swaggering peacock, he had cut off their relationship without a word; once it was plain he could get as many women as he wanted and it was like the supply of oxygen was suddenly cut off to her brain. She could barely think; she didn’t eat much and there wasn’t anything she could do but watch as one woman after another would stop by to “visit” him and go quite willingly to his bed. He had heard their sounds in the dark tent and soon took to sleeping in a different tent; though not far enough away to completely muffle the sounds of their blissful pursuits. Every moan or grunt was like a knife twisting in her gut.

This contest has shown her that she has been wrong in letting her anger at Antonio carry on for as long as it has. Life is too short to hold grudges like that; ones that will fester inside like a cancer and affect your life more than they should. Saraya know that he hadn’t been completely at fault in that; she hadn’t pursued him and fought for what she wanted. It wouldn’t have been hard to drive the women away (by force if it had come to that). She sighs and goes about her day, promising herself that she will focus all of her energy on this potentially lethal competition before her.





Ayasha and Rowena are pensive, but pretty much at peace with themselves; having already faced their demons and feel sadness remotely as they go about their training. Ayasha is sitting cross-legged on the floor of the sparring room, her mind empty of thought and her breathing steady within her meditative trance.

Rowena is nearby in the training room, the practice dummy taking all of her anger and pain in the steady and solid blows she rains upon it uncomplaining. Owen’s service had left her bitterly determined not to be the next one going in a hole. Sweat runs down her face as her hands become a blur of motion, spinning the dummy this way and that, even rocking it in place with the roundhouse kicks she delivers to it. She gets lost mentally and emotionally in her practice and when she finishes, goes to wash up.



After the ceremony, Lainee felt the rage within her, like an inferno threatening to consume her reason. “How could that treacherous hunk of metal disobey her yesterday?” is the main thought circling around in her skull; which is pounding like a bass drum as she paces back and forth in the grass near the new grave markers. In the arena itself Lainee is the boss and her word should be law and she decides to go and enforce that. She finds the robot nearby, just going to clean up and confronts him. “I am the Overseer!!” She shouts, taking him aback at the sudden outburst. He has never been prone to violent outbursts, unlike his predecessor and listens patiently as Lainee rails against him for disobeying her yesterday and then goes on about today. “You should have dumped that stupid fuck into his hole and kicked dirt over him… in case you haven’t noticed this is a fight to the death and they are all criminals! They don’t deserve your mercy or kindness!” She shrieks like a banshee and Lionel is forced to lower the sensitivity of his ears to avoid her keening wail as she continues. “Next time one of them dies, just fucking dump them in a hole or throw them in the river for all I fucking care!! You WILL listen to me from now on and do exactly as I say or you will find yourself in a hole before anyone else dies… do you get me?” She trails off menacingly and he just holds out his hands.

“Didn’t he pay for those crimes with his death? Doesn’t that give him the right to a bit of kindness before he is laid to rest?” He says placidly in his stern monotone. “You can tell me to take someone to the cell, or bury them here with the rest and I have to obey, but the manner with which I do my job is my concern, not yours. I will NOT be needlessly cruel or callous just because you tell me to. I know the rules of the competition as well as you do and cruelty is never mentioned; just that I have to do the Overseers’ bidding.” He finishes flatly and walks away without another word. She is awestruck by his refusal to accede to her demands and though she wants to follow through with her threat to bury him, she knows deep in her heart that she can’t… at least until she can do it without getting caught or implicated.





Shortly after Lainee’s outburst, Simon finds Ayasha on the wall and goes to speak with her, he and Saraya had been unwitting conspirators to the woman’s plan a few days before; a plan that they are still in the dark about, but he figures that she owes him one for playing along when the Overseer believed she had snuck out of the arena. He’d seen her sneaking out of the secret room and only the three of them know of its existence, and when the overseer had confronted her, they didn’t go against her, making the Overseer turn her attention to other matters. She had never really thanked him for it, but she doesn’t really seen to be the type that is accustomed to doing it.

“I need help with something… I am planning to go out for a bit this evening.” He begins and she just smiles up at him, a smirk plain on her full lips. “Perhaps you can help me out by keeping the overseer distracted should she come looking for me… like she did the other day.” He says, letting it drop meaningfully. She just nods and leans in conspiratorially. “I have a few ideas.” She barks out a laugh. “But consider us even if I do this for you.” She says, suddenly serious and he just nods. It feels like it has the weight of commitment as he heads back the way he came and down into the arena for a few hours of sleep.



Six hours later, when the sun had set Simon gets up and allows himself to be seen by the Overseer before rushing to the secret door and opening it once the coast is clear. Inside, he spends a few minutes doing as Ayasha instructed; clearing his mind and focusing all of energy. At first he isn’t sure it is working, but he soon has the feeling of lightness comes over him as she suggested it would, and he forms a picture in his mind. There is the sensation of flying and he swears that if he opened his eyes he would see the world shifting around him. He had pictured the place he wants to go and before he even opens his eyes he can smell flowers and the fresh scents of open air.





This small park is far off the beaten path, in the hills above the Redwood Heights Ski Lodge and is nearly abandoned as he goes to wait impatiently for his friend to arrive. It has been months since they last spoke and years since he has seen them in the flesh. He hopes they are well and can find this place easily. The flickering light from the camp fire is mesmerizing in its warmth and he loses all track of time in the memories that stir in his head.

The hard chair beneath him forms knots in his back and shoulders and numbs his rump, but he feels nothing as the dreams of the past few nights play over and over in his brain. A sound nearby disrupts the images and he looks up and out into the darkness.



A familiar face peers over a flowering bush and his heart skips a beat at seeing them for the first time in half a decade or more. He stands slowly and on weak legs, not quite believing Shara Hightower is here in Hidden Springs to see him. A million questions race to the forefront of his mind, but he sets them all aside for now.



The years have been kind to her; and she looks just as she did those years ago. As she steps into the firelight, he gets a good look at her and she takes his breath away. Her hair is bit different and her eyes have lost some the playful sparkle they once had, but she still has the lithe, sinuous figure and quirky sense of style she’d had as a teen. The last time he’d seen her, her father had condemned the relationship they had and soon after, she was sent away to the university; one of HIS choosing.



It is like no time has passed at all as they talk candidly about the paths their lives have taken since they parted ways all those years ago. Shara had indeed gone to the university her father had sent her to and did well during her time there, but it didn’t take long for her to rebel against him. Life at the university had taught her to pursue her own dreams, not the dream of others and she dropped out to attend an art academy in Champs Les Sims, France; home of the great Simpressionist painters that grace the walls of many an art gallery.

She already knows of his competing in the Last Sim Standing competition and his reason for being there; the media had slandered him by using terms like “white collar criminal” and “Thief” but she never believed he was capable of something like that. He tells her about Harvey Rabbit and his gang; how they basically railroaded him into this contest and the actions of his former partner that had started it all on the downward spiral.



She leans in and embraces him warmly, in longing for the years back that they had been apart and in silent acceptance of everything that had happened and what they had both become since they have been apart. Just having her against his body, the scent of her hair and light perfume is enough to make the years fly away completely. They hold each other for a long while, just relishing the embrace and he can feel a longing building in her and his own body signals its willingness for what he hopes will happen next.



At that same moment Lainee realizes that she hasn’t seen Simon around for at least an hour and goes to search for him. She had been looking sourly down at Owen’s grave and goes up to the first person she sees; the lunatic Saraya. “Have you seen Simon around?” She asks simply, not wanting an argument. The woman had been briefed by Ayasha to help her distract the Overseer for a bit and it will mean the woman will owe her a favor later on, so she had agreed. “I saw him in the Dining Room just a few minutes ago, having supper.” She says blandly, clearly not wanting to talk to the Overseer at all. The woman turns and heads downstairs in search of Simon.



In the dining room she sees a plate from the evening meal, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen so she walks out and into the kitchen, cornering Rowena in front of the refrigerator.



Rowena saw her enter and had gone about loitering to get the woman’s attention. She doesn’t know what this whole subterfuge is about, but Ayasha had suggested that she chat up the overseer for a bit to distract her. She thought perhaps Ayasha had something planned and didn’t want the Overlord poking her nose into it, so she plays along. The “cornered” woman is smiling and at peace with herself, and before Lainee can ask about Simon, she asks the woman for “advice” about a hypothetical situation; one involving having “feelings” for one of her competitors and wanting to know what to do.

Lainee finds it strange that the woman is asking her advice about anything, but decides to try and help, since everyone seems to hate her but Rowena. It takes several long minutes of discussion to give her the advice her own mom would have given her in the same situation.



Back at the park, Simon and Shara are just releasing the almost sensual embrace. He takes her hands in his, finding them warm to the touch and looks deep into her familiar blue-green eyes with a coy smile on his lips. “Shall we find some place we can be alone?” He whispers. She nods and takes his arm as he leads her down the hill to the abandoned lodge.



The Redwood Height Luxury Lodge is closed for the season, but Simon feels there is no sense drawing too much attention to potential passerby’s by breaking a window on the bottom floor to get in when there is a perfectly good door on the second floor balcony. He breaks one of the tiny glass panels in the door and reaches in to unlock it and as the door opens and he pulls her in behind him he gets a rush of adrenaline with what will be come next. The whole place smells of dust and mildew, but they pay it no mind as they fall into each other’s arms and kiss away the last five year’s absence.



Once Lainee got her question out, Rowena had directed her to the barracks, where she had apparently seen Simon napping only a short while earlier, right after supper. When she enters, she sees some of his clothes on the floor and the bed in disarray like he’d been there, but she suspects he has gone AWOL, like Ayasha did the week before; a fact she is still investigating, but as yet cannot prove.



Turning to leave, she seeks out the treacherous woman herself and finds her engrossed in a game of foosball in the main hall. “Where is he?” She growls and Ayasha takes the initiative. “Who? Tarik? I haven’t seen him for a bit, perhaps you should check the courtyard, he was reading a book last I saw.” She says with an easy smile. Lainee, ever suspicious of this woman just arches her eyebrow. 

“Simon… where is he?” She growls again, though with the thinly veiled attempt at civility. Of all the competitors, Ayasha is probably the most dangerous; certainly a wild card in this event; no telling what she is capable of considering her background. “Simon… I vaguely remember he said something about being alone for a while, but he also said he would take a shower first… have you checked the bathroom?” She suggests casually, sending the Overseer off with a bee in her ear.



They lose their lip lock and stumble into a room and fall onto the bed and continue making out; hot and heavy like they had in high school. Time passes slowly as they grow hotter with desire by the moment, their bodies both crying out almost painfully with lust for each other. Hands explore each other anew and soon they are very familiar with every nuance. Kisses and touches make way to sheer and unimaginable pleasure as their bodies become one in a sometimes clumsy, sometimes sensual, but always passionate rhythm. It lasts for longer than either of them realizes and when it is over, they collapse in a breathless heap and simply hold each other until their breath returns. Knowing he doesn’t have long before he must return, he turns to face her and sees her tears. “Be safe… get through this so we can be together again“ She says sadly and hugs him one last time before he gets to his feet, dresses and walks back to the arena, lost in thought.



About the same time, Lainee is just walking into the shower room, seeing a set of Simon’s pajamas on the floor, and a slight dripping from the faucet in one of the showers but still no sign of the man. Grumbling to herself, she goes striding down the hall, full of purpose; that purpose being proving the man had left the arena.





He is just rounding the corner into the main hall when she spots him and rushes over to confront him. “I know you left the arena!!” She hisses. “Just like Ayasha did last week… you won’t get away with this.” Her voice is a harsh whisper and frustration is plainly written on her face. “I have been looking for you for over an hour and I demand that you tell me where you have been.” Ayasha had coached him on this possible outcome and he is ready for it.



The only emotion he will show is anger and lashes out at the horrible woman. “I needed to be alone… is that too much to ask?!?” He growls and advances on her, forcing her to step backwards. “I may die a horrible death tomorrow, or the day after, can’t I get a little peace and quiet without a bitch like you coming to harangue me with your pointless observations or trying to stir up trouble? Can’t you wait at least until I am dead to treat me with such disrespect.” Ordinarily a man like him would make her laugh; even angry, but something in Simon’s eyes and his manner had forced her back, and there is no way for her to recover except to relent. “Just show me where you were hiding, and we’ll let this go.” She says almost meekly and he just glares and leads the way.



High up along the wall toward the back of the arena, Simon leads her to a small chamber used for maintaining the statues that overlook the arena and once inside, she sees his shoe prints on the floor and a void in the dust on the wall where he had been sitting.

“Sorry for my assumptions.” She says softly, the words tasting like ashes in her mouth, so unaccustomed to speaking them as she is. “It’s okay, just don’t jump to conclusions next time and we’ll all be happier.” Simon says with a smile and walks away, levity in his steps.