Barcode: Legend of Apollo (7 page)

Over the years, I’ve learned to avoid all check-ins. The less people know the better off we are. After ten minutes, we’re headed down the street towards our destination.

We manage to cover nearly a full mile before Leo blurts, “Where are we going?”

He shrinks down a size or two at the evil eye I give him over my shoulder. Sadly, he’s still taller than me. I’m aware that the long adventure ahead cannot take place without question so I quickly say, “China Town.”

“Are you crazy? We’re walking there? That’ll take hours.”

“I hop on top of the train,” I say slowly. I’m forced to speak at a snail’s pace because I’m suddenly aware he’s too fragile to jump on a moving train. This sucks.

Leo removes his backpack and places it at his feet. After extracting four long strips of aerogel he combined with Zectron through MMIBS in order to make the brittle substance flexible, he pulls out a bag of tiny silver bugs. I doubt I’d be able to see one if it were by itself, but all together, they make a loud buzzing sound and are easy to notice.

“What are those?”

“Transportation,” he says with a smirk.

Within minutes, we’re zooming down the street on a modified motorcycle. The bugs are actually nanobots that can be merged to create various objects. Leo combined them into small engines to attach inside the wheels we made from rolling the aerogel into large tires.

He handed me two long bars that magnetically stuck to my gloves and boots. I inserted those rods into the hoops and the tiny bugs formed a stable engine near the axis. Like spiders, they began spinning web made of alloy to connect the axis and wheel.

Because Leo’s splitting the material between the two of us, we have to use our own bodies as the frame for the bike. My face is probably two feet from the ground and my butt’s hiked in the air. It’s like using the most advanced ab roller in the world.

It took some time for us to get started as the nanobots formed a carbon body around the wheels. It seems that each little bugger is fueled by a drop of ink used to power man made barcodes. But the stealthy looking design of the handlebars was well worth the wait.

The nanobots roar like a Moreno motorcycle. Their shocks aren’t the best, but the ride is pretty smooth for how fast we’re able to go. Best of all, Leo showed me how to activate my helmet, which came in handy on the freeway when I tried changing lanes a bit too quickly.

With the impact resistance technology in the armor, I hardly felt a bump when sliding eighty miles per hour on the ground. That’s what I get for asking to take the third level freeways, which are mainly for vehicles that can travel over two hundred miles per hour.

We eventually arrive at our location. All the buildings in this city are relatively small compared to the ones in Griffith Park.

I take a huge whiff of smog and look around at the only remaining historic area in Los Angeles. The buildings are ancient. Red, green, and gold are everywhere. The Yangs, a large Chinese family that settled in America nearly a century ago, spent loads of money restoring this district.

There’s a museum in the center of town that shows images of the renovations over a thirty year period. Despite the progress made and the beautiful architecture surrounding the area, there’s still a sense of grit and grime to the city. Clothes hang on wires, residents ride through the streets on bicycles, and farmers chop chicken heads in the middle of the sidewalk.

The area is an expensive place to stay. Rich investors for the Yang Arena occupy the surrounding areas. They’re so loaded that they pay to live like peasants from the twentieth century.

Residents walk more than they drive. The sidewalks are always jam packed with pedestrians. Even now, people are bumping into us. I should have visited this place sooner. It makes me forget about Dubai.

“Welcome to China Town,” I tell Leo while rubbing my stomach.

The abdominal area of my suit glows. Suddenly, my core’s covered with what feels like a supportive waistband. Excited that my suit finally evolved, I look over to tell Leo. Much to my chagrin, his gear has adjusted as well and we’re still in identical suits.

As I hand Leo the pieces from my bike, I ask, “What else can they do?”

“Everything. Surf. Glide. Shoot. It’s really based on my imagination. I tell one bot, and the others do the rest.”

“They can hear you?”

“Yeah. I have plenty in…” Leo looks around nervously before saying, “It’s actually too difficult to explain. They’re just really advanced and capable AI.”

I’m sure he’s trying to avoid telling me more, but I don’t want to press him for the information. It’s probably some top secret Moreno thing.

Laughing and discussing some of the many objects he’s made with the bots, I walk Leo to the top floor of a building just a block from Yang Arena. We pass a few suspicious looking people on our way up the stairs. Though this building is pretty close to the stadium, not even Yang can abolish all illegal activities in his city.

A “friend” from Yang Arena found this building years ago. It’s a casino headed by an Indian and Chinese mob. The crime is a bit higher in China Town than in Griffith Park, but no mafia member is dumb enough to start fights with gladiators.

The ten-story building, the tallest on the block, poses as a bar. They’re very popular for their marijuana, and the food is made with X-Eyes alcohol. I once sampled a curry that numbed the right side of my face. Mostly the students keep clear of the bar because you must be twenty-one to drink or smoke.

What we’re doing here can get us into enough trouble. No need to push the envelope.

“What’s this?” Leo blurts before covering his mouth.

Still juiced from the phenomenal commute, we both forget to abide by our previous agreement. With my heart still scrambling, I reply, “It’s the rooftop arena for China Town.”

“Rooftop arena?”

“Yeah. Students from just about every arena have one. Colt’s the only school without a rooftop because of the security Dennis places everywhere in GP.”

“What do you do?”

“It’s simple, fight like the gladiators do. For bragging rights.” My eyes scan the area. I’m amazed to see so many people. I’ve never arrived this early. The train normally drops me off after most of the strong students have left.

“This is illegal, right?”

“Of course,” I say while walking through the crowd.

Suddenly, I hear a wild scream from someone standing nearby.

“It’s Spence. Yo. Yo. It’s Spence.”

Yukio, a long time friend of mine, smiles and shakes my hand. He’s a student in the god level classes at Colt Arena, even though he lives in China Town. If it weren’t for him fighting on my behalf, Colt wouldn’t have an ounce of respect in the underground fighting realm.

“Spencer? What are you doing here so early?” Yukio shouts in his normal high-pitched tone.

Yukio’s seventeen, but he looks like an elementary student by all standards. He talks and argues like a kid. He’s not the smartest guy, often gets lost, and is easily distracted. I normally find him with his pinky finger jammed up his nose while star gazing.

“Did your daddy drop you off?”

“No. I got a ride with him.” Turning to Leonardo I say, “Leo this is Yo, the god Orion. Yo, this is Zeus.”

Yukio’s friend nudges him while scrutinizing me from head to toe.

“What? Oh.” Yukio grins while saying, “Spence, you finally get to do it.”

I roll my eyes and Leo asks, “What?”

“He’s fighting Gi Young.”

“Gi Young. Wow. He sounds amazing. If he’s fighting Spencer, he must be some huge monster like Arnold or something, huh?”

Yukio and his friend laugh before answering, “No.”

“Well, his barcodes must be out of this world then. Are they so huge they stretch down his back?”

They snicker again and simultaneously answer, “No.”

I see this dragging on for too long so I jump in and say, “Gi Young is a girl.”

“Not just any girl, she has the hugest crush on Spencer,” Yukio adds while poking me in the stomach. “What did she say? If she beats you, you’ll have to be her boyfriend.” Yukio stretches out the first syllable of the last word, mocking me.

The two pint sized boys laugh as Kyle walks up with his gang. Kyle’s parents drop him off and are well aware of the rooftop games, so he always stays for the full night.

“Whoa. Spence? What’s going on? You’re never here this early.” After I explain the situation, we make our way to the battlefield.

Before I can even step into the light, Gi Young rolls in front of me. She’s very pretty, overweight, and aggressive. I don’t mind her size at all. It helps her fighting style on the battlefield, which makes her appear more attractive. I simply hate the amount of times I’ve needed to change my cell number because of her constant harassment.

“Hi sweetie.”

“Hi Gi Young,” I reply quickly with a dry tone, praying to The Writer that she notices my lack of interest in her accompaniment.

“You finally got here early enough to see me. Why doesn’t your dad bring you by the arena anymore?”

“Don’t know.”

“Hmm. That’s a shame. Are you still pursuing what’s-her-face?”

“Yes, Gi Young.”

“You can’t remember her name either, huh?” She scrunches her face playfully. “I’m just kidding, but you know after today I’ll make you my boyfriend.”

“I’m not making that deal with you.”

She makes an adorable grunt while folding her arms.

My friends and I walk over to a section reserved for Colt Arena students. Normally, there are only three of my classmates left when I arrive, but the whole gang is here now.

I recline on the beaten and worn out sofa. Everything seems different at this hour—much livelier. There’s some emo-pop playing in the background, a few of the Yang Arena students are making out, and the candles at each of the surrounding tables are still lit.

The junior arenas that students construct aren’t very elaborate, but they get the job done. Gi Young helped me build this place when we were still junior high students. Initially, this was considered a part of Colt Arena. That’s the promise we made. Yet, when her father found out about the miniature arena, he insisted that his people claim the rights.

I allowed them to keep the furniture and the nearly indestructible tile I managed to snatch from Colt Arena, as long as we could have a section reserved for us. Don’t get me wrong, I was nothing pleasant for the first two weeks after hearing my arena had been taken, but I got over it because I wanted to start fighting again.

Gi Young and I have never battled each other, but I know she’s one of Yang’s Amazons, the only demigoddesses infamously known for killing gods. By some peculiar coincidence, Amazons are often born within the same region. They tend to gravitate towards one another naturally, and rarely fight alone. For the past three decades, Yang Arena has trained the young women mercilessly.

People would consider this the dominant stadium of the West and South Coasts if it weren’t for Colt, so that says a lot about their system. Though they are well recognized for the Amazons’ training lead by Gi Young’s mother, the men are no less intimidating. I don’t expect this to be an easy match. At all.

The announcer places Gi Young and I on call after she argues with him for a few minutes. Then, she slowly saunters towards me. She is testing my inner strength. I struggle to avoid laughing at her. Though she attempts to gracefully sway her hips, she mechanically bumps several victims onto the floor.

“So, how about that deal?”

“Can we please just play the silent game until the match is over? I’ll start first, see?” I say while pointing to my closed lips.

“You want me to kiss them? Okay!”

I grab her head and push it away. Gi Young is outrageously strong and I nearly have to activate the codes for my arms to fend myself from the girl.

“Hmph. You can’t keep rejecting me!”

“Can so.”

“What if I make a fair trade?”

“No trade you have is going to be fair.”

“Are you sure? This one’s good. It’s about two new boys at your school that may want to kill you.”

The match hasn’t even begun and I feel blood racing steadily. “What?”

“Make the deal. If I lose, I’ll tell you. And if you lose…” she puckers her lips.

“Not worth it.”

“I’ll tell you even if we’re together,” she makes her best impression of a sensual voice.

“I don’t want it.”

The announcer calls us to the battlefield. First, she pokes me in the stomach. I noticed the barcode around her waist shine purple. Then, she quickly stands up to bait me in.

“Okay. You won’t know who wants to kill you, and that’s fine by me.”

After making my way to the battlefield, and hearing the announcer begin our match, I cave. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear anymore about kissing if I win.”

She bounces up and down giddily and says, “Deal.”

After years of knowing her, I’d never understood the power of the tattoo that wraps around her waist. It acts as a magnet to whatever object she touches. The poke was all I needed to become magnetized.

I honestly can’t understand what’s happened to me. Her body is nearly floating towards me, bashing me until I almost fall off of the roof. Worried about my safety, she stops attacking for one second and that’s enough time for me to punch her in the gut.

With the strike, Gi Young’s stomach deflates and her face does as well. Her clothes fall to the ground, except for her large shirt, which initially couldn’t cover her waist. Now, it acts as her dress.

After her friends scrape her from the ground, I see a tiny and still beautiful Asian girl. Her sparkling eyes glare at me in anger.

She blurts my offense with force, “Do you know how long it takes me to collect that much air? I won’t be able to fight for a month.”

Her friends try to lift her clothes from the ground, but they’re too heavy. She easily picks up the pieces, and folds them in her arms. Still upset, Gi Young storms back to Colt Arena’s area. I follow her doing my best not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Gi Young shouts as I find my seat.

“You were a bit cuter when inflated,” I say while puffing my face.