The river’s clear water cut cleanly through the center of a dense forest. The river boasted a levee, the top of which doubled as a road. On the left, the levee fell away toward the water, which reflected Kino on her motorbike.
It was a cool morning. Kino wore her long brown coat, the excess length wrapped around her thighs. She had her hat on, earflaps down; the damp air buffeted her face.
"This is a great road, but you're driving too fast!" shouted Hermes.
“What?” Kino laughed, the sound trailing behind her on the sunlit air. "Hermes, when did you become an old man?”
She forced him into top gear, his engine roaring so loudly that he knew they weren't making any friends among the forest creatures. Then they hit a gentle rise in the road and he was airborne. The unhappy lump of metal sailed through the air for several yards, landing with a thud, his rear end fishtailing.
"Kino!" he shrieked. "Cut it out!"
Kino released the accelerator, still laughing. "What – you've never wanted to fly?"
"Fly?" fumed Hermes. "Fly? I'm a motorcycle, for goodness' sake! I belong on the ground. Fly, my tailpipe. I thought my frame was going to bend!"
Kino slowed him further. "Nothing's bent but your stodgy sensibilities. We hit a hundred back there! Haven't done that for a while, and loaded down like this, too. You should be proud of yourself, Hermes."
"You're clearly proud of yourself. Know what the other Kino said about a motorcycle's top speed?"
She paused a beat, then asked, "No, what did he say?"
"He said that a motorcycle's top speed is the speed at which it comes apart. As in, at the seams. A broken, twisted pile of scrap metal… You still wanna find my top speed?"
Kino didn't respond at first, then said soberly, "Sorry, Hermes," and patted the motorcycle's gas tank.
"Why are we in such a hurry?" he asked.
"No reason. I think if you don't test your limits, they get harder to reach."
"When did you make that up?"
"About the same time you made up that nonsense about a motorcycle's top speed. Oh, by the way, we should hit the next city any moment now."
"Oh, I'm all a-tingle."
Kino's version of any moment now, Hermes knew, was not terribly reliable.
"See? There it is." A tall outer wall of gray stone encircled the city that she pointed to. Inside, a bristling array of buildings surrounded an enormous elliptical structure with walls nearly as high as the city's protective outer curtain.
It reminded Hermes disturbingly of a bull's-eye.
"I've wanted to come here for a while," said Kino, sounding entranced.
Given their recent experiences, Hermes was not nearly so enthusiastic. "I hope you let me rest awhile when we get there," he muttered. "Some place cool, dark, and not too damp."
"What did you say?" cried Kino, shading her eyes in an attempt to see the guard's face. She stood in a narrow, cobbled entranceway between a guard station and a gatehouse, the sun falling blindingly between the eaves overhead.
The young man replied, "I'll say it as many times as you like. You've been admitted to this city-state. Which means you are automatically entered into the contest. That's how things work here."
Kino stared at him with a mixture of surprise and horror. "So you're telling me I have to participate in this... this contest?"
"Yes, I am. Did you really come here without knowing that, boy?" taunted the guard.
"Don't call me 'boy.' I'm not a boy. I'm Kino."
Illustrating the point, Kino parted the lapels of her coat and set her hands on her slim hips, careful not to reveal the revolver strapped to her right thigh.
"Okay, girl," said the guard with a rakish grin. "One more time, for good measure: You're automatically entered in the contest. You know what happens to people who choose not to participate?"
Kino snorted. "How could l? I've never been here before. And there are certainly no signs on the road that advertise your so-called contest."
"Then I'll tell you what happens. Just punishment for a coward – you get to live the rest of your life as a slave."
"Why?"
"That's the way things are. The law of the land. You don't obey it, it'll be your head." He smirked.
Kino looked down at the tag the guard had clipped to Hermes' handlebars. On it was the number twenty-four. Their "contestant" number.
Once every three months, so the guard said, this city held a contest for the right of citizenship. Anyone who wanted to live here had to fight it out in the coliseum, and the victor would become a citizen.
The contest lasted three days. Two rounds of fighting on the first day – which started, apparently, when a visitor was issued a number – two rounds on the second day, and a final deciding round on the third day.
There were no restrictions on weapons, but you couldn't watch the other participants' fights. You could attempt to surrender, but that was only effective if the opponent chose to recognize the capitulation. Otherwise, the loser was whomever was unable to continue. In most cases, "unable to continue" meant "dead." If you refused to fight, you embarked on a life of slavery; if you attempted to flee, you were charged with cowardice under fire and executed on sight.
Almost all the residents of the country crammed into the coliseum to watch. Even the ruler, King Yukio, observed the contests from a special bullet-proof box seat. All other spectators, of course, were at risk of being wounded or even killed by stray bullets or other ordnance.
"That just ups the suspense and excitement," the guard said eagerly, then concluded, "The last man or woman standing receives a medal of citizenship from the hand of the king. At that time, he or she is also permitted to make one new law. As long as it doesn't contradict any existing laws, it can be just about anything."
"What – no one's asked to stop the contest? " asked Kino sarcastically.
"Most people," said the guard, as if he hadn't heard her, "make laws like 'There shall always be a house for me to live in' or 'I shall marry the most beautiful and richest woman in the land.' "
"Selfish things, in other words."
"I suppose. Anyway, today is the final day for entry. Anyone who passes through the gates before the deadline is automatically entered. Congratulations. You're in."
"But I don't want in. l don't want to be a citizen of this... place."
The guard shook his head. "Kidding, right?"
Kino glanced around her. Her audience had grown twice she had revealed herself to be a mere girl, and guards with nothing better to do had come from every corner of the gate area to ogle and scoff. She sincerely regretted not let-ting them believe she was a boy. Every man there wore a vulgar grin and rattled his gun as if to say, "Just look at this!"
She took stock of her situation: she was quite literally on their turf – standing in the shadow of their station house. The half-dozen shiny, white helmets that hung from pegs just outside the station house door reminded her eerily of polished skulls.
"How about it?" asked another young man, peering at her through narrowed eyes, "You gonna participate? Or you gonna head straight for the slaves' quarters? You'd be the first person ever to do that, Kino. Or should I say Number 24?"
"When did this game begin?" Kino asked, addressing the original guard and ignoring the others jockeying for her attention.
"About seven years ago. But please don't call it a game. Citizenship in our glorious city is the prize."
"Glorious?" Kino glared at the guard. "I heard this city was surrounded by green forests and fields that provided plenty for everyone. I heard the people were modest and led simple, splendid lives."
"That's still true" another guard said defensively.
"Don't act like it's ancient history. There's enough for everyone to eat even if you don't do any work. It's a paradise on Earth. It'd be wasted on the likes of you."
"What happened seven years ago?" Kino asked, ignoring the insult.
The young gate guard turned to his compatriots, singling out a grizzled veteran to answer the question.
"You tell her, Taro."
Taro seemed quite pleased to lecture on the subject. He assumed an almost professorial air and said, "Seven years ago we got a new king. Yukio – long may he live – killed the old king and made the realm much more exciting. Since then, lots of people want to live here, but we can't just let anyone in. So we have them fight in the coliseum to prove their worth and their devotion. We keep only the strongest and most clever. The rest..." He shrugged eloquently, then put his face right up to Kino's. "You get my drift, little girl?"