The New Order, page 2
“Oh, no way!” cried Stan. “I will never put any sort of tax or quotas on the NPC villagers! I’ve lived with the villagers before, but they typically just want to be left alone. I do think that we should get carrots and potatoes from the NPC villagers, but we should do this by offering them a fair trade. We know how to grow crops. If we trade with the NPCs, they’ll be happy, and we’ll have our own carrots and potatoes to grow. If we’re honest with ourselves, we know that we’re smarter and more powerful than they are, so it’s our responsibility to make sure that nothing bad happens to them. We certainly can’t put taxes on them!”
There was healthy applause for this statement. Almost none of the citizens of Elementia understood NPC villagers the way that Stan did, and they knew that. All they saw was that Stan was trying to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves.
“Stan2012, what are your thoughts on the emerging organization calling itself the Noctem Alliance?”
In the past month, there had been a growing number of protest rallies in Element City staged by members of a group called the Noctem Alliance. Despite the fall of King Kev, they still believed that the lower-level players of Minecraft didn’t deserve the same basic rights as the older, upper-level players.
“The Noctem Alliance is, as of right now, just a protesters’ group, so I have no control over them,” Stan said calmly. “Everyone is free to voice their own opinions, regardless of how I, or anybody else, might feel about it. However, I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on them. Any group that threatens the equality of the players of Elementia won’t be tolerated. The Noctem Alliance can say what they want, I won’t stop them, as much as I disagree with them. However, if the Alliance acts on any of their views, there will be no hesitation in putting the group to rest.”
The applause shook the courtyard. Although all present were aware that Stan was vehemently opposed to the views presented by the Noctem Alliance, it was encouraging to know he believed in their laws to a point where he would not actively stop the Alliance unless they took action.
“Stan2012, here is your last question: What are your thoughts on tracking down and neutralizing any of King Kev’s remaining allies?”
“Well, I think my thoughts on that should be pretty obvious,” replied Stan with a chuckle, and a charged laughter rippled through the audience.
“I don’t know where King Kev’s remaining supporters are, or what they are doing. Our army has devoted almost half its resources to catching any of King Kev’s followers who are still out there. I think that we are giving all that we possibly can to the search right now, but I’m ready to send more soldiers out if the traitors don’t reveal themselves soon. Rest assured, however, as long as I am your president, there is no danger in Element City from King Kev’s supporters.”
The applause the crowd was barely holding back now surged forward as they sang the praises of their president who they fully trusted to keep them safe and happy. Stan was elated. The applause was still strong as he left the platform and entered the side tower to watch Blackraven’s interview.
Blackraven had always had somewhat different views from Stan. Personally, Stan believed that Blackraven was in favor of putting resources where they were not necessary, and taking them from where they were. Although Blackraven did have a following among the citizens of Elementia, it paled in comparison to Stan’s.
One thing Stan gave Blackraven credit for was that, although Stan may not agree with them all, Blackraven was firm in his beliefs, and he made that plain. Respectable a quality as that may be, Stan still did not feel that Blackraven should have run for president. Blackraven had had to give up his seat on the Council of Eight to do so, and he almost certainly would lose, as very few players agreed with his ideas.
For example, Blackraven believed that investing resources in diamond mining was of supreme importance, even if that meant less effort went into looking for King Kev’s remaining followers. He also believed that people with similar views should band together into political parties. This was unsettling, as the shady Noctem Alliance wanted to become a political party. Perhaps the view that Stan most disagreed with was that since the NPC villagers lived on the Elementia server, they should pay taxes the same as the players.
After Blackraven finished answering his questions, he walked over to sit next to Stan as the polite applause died down. Stan turned to wish Blackraven luck, but a pensive look had crossed the old player’s yellow-and-black-feathered face, so Stan looked away. Instead, he looked out the window of the tower at the voting machine.
The machine was an ingenious contraption of the Mechanist’s design. One by one, the citizens of Elementia lined up and walked into a room, inside of which there were two buttons: one to vote for Stan, and one to vote for Blackraven. Press a button, and pistons ejected you gently from the room, and the door opened for the next voter.
By the time the sun was setting, the last voter had entered the booth. As the door swung shut for the last time, there was a moment of silence as one of the officials checked the records of the voting within the machine. Then, a frizz of white hair appeared on a platform atop the machine as the Mechanist climbed up and read the redstone circuitry that sat before him. Stan saw him give a slight nod and a tiny smile before turning to address the crowd.
“The votes are all in,” the Mechanist announced, his Texan accent deep and pronounced. “The winner of the election for president of the Grand Republic of Elementia is Stan2012, for his second term!”
Stan tried to look dignified, but he couldn’t stop the uncontrollable grin that had spread over his face. Blackraven didn’t seem to mind, though. He offered Stan congratulations, which Stan returned, shaking Blackraven’s hand for good measure. As Blackraven headed down the stairs to leave the castle, Stan looked over the bridge to tumultuous applause.
“Thank you, citizens of Elementia! Together, we will make this server the best place that it can be! Thank you for giving me the chance to continue to prove myself to you! It is my job to serve you, so I hope that you find yourselves happy, healthy, and safe under my leadership. Good night, and thank you again!”
The applause shook the ground beneath his feet as Stan walked back into the tower. He was quite content that he was president once again, but he felt exhausted, and was eager to finally get some sleep.
CHAPTER 2 THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT
Stan could not deny that he was very happy he had been reelected, but right now, he could not hide his annoyance. He had explicitly told the guards of the castle that he would talk to anybody who needed him the next day, but not tonight. Yet he had still been woken up four times, by DZ, Kat, Charlie, and DZ again. His friends only wanted to congratulate him, but Stan was far too tired to appreciate it. Stan ordered the guard firmly to tell everybody to leave him be for the rest of the night, and slammed the door irritably.
Stan got back into bed, glad that the campaign was over and that he could now get some real sleep for the first time in days. He pulled the covers up, closed his eyes, and was about to fall asleep when a faint voice caught his ear.
“Stan . . . hey, Stan, are you awake?”
“Whoever you are, GO AWAY!” barked Stan, hiding his head under his pillow in his angst.
“Oh, okay then. I thought that you’d be rather happy to hear my voice again, noob, but if you’d rather sleep, I get it . . .”
Suddenly, Stan was wide awake. He glanced wildly around the room, daring to hope that it could really be true, that the voice could really be that of . . .
“Sally?” Stan asked tentatively.
“Yeeeees?” came the sarcastic, smirky voice.
“Oh my God. It’s you!” cried Stan, his eyes brightening in delight. “You’re alive! But how . . . where are . . .”
“No, you idiot! I’m not alive, Minotaurus cut me open with an axe, remember?”
“But . . . wait a second . . . ,” said Stan, his elation suddenly shifting to a sudden-onset headache. “If you’re . . . but then . . . Sal, how are you talking to me if you’re dead?”
“Well,” came Sally’s voice, the source of which Stan still could not distinguish, “ever since I died, I’ve been trying to find ways to get back onto the server. I’ve gotta hand it to King Kev, he really did his research. I’ve tried every method of rejoining, of hacking my way in, of bypassing the blacklist . . . you know, the list of people who have been banned from Elementia. But what you hear now is the closest I’ve been able to get.”
“So . . . can you see me?” asked Stan.
“Yeah, I see you,” she replied. “It’s weird, my view of you keeps shifting around the room, though, and I have to really focus on you to keep my sight there. Frankly, you’re not too much to look at, so I think you owe me an apology there.”
Stan chuckled. “Well, death hasn’t changed you much, Sally. Is this the first time that you’ve managed to do this . . . this . . . well, whatever this is?”
“No,” Sally said. “I’ve been able to do this for about the past week or so, and it’s so strange, I really don’t have that much control over where I get to see. It’s like I see flashes of things that are happening all over Elementia. Sometimes I see trees in the forest, or pigs in the plains, or buildings in the city. Anyway, if I don’t focus on what I’m seeing really hard, I lose the connection.”
“That is weird,” said Stan, thinking about what might cause this but drawing a blank. “So, have you talked to anybody else?”
“No, frankly, most people are too boring to focus on,” replied Sally, and Stan could almost see the sarcastic simper on her face. “I just happened to have the luck of teleporting directly into your bedroom. By the way, it was cute when DZ tried to come in twice to congratulate you. And also, congrats, Mr. Two-Term President. Not bad for a noob who can’t even flop down onto a pillow correctly.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Stan whined, but he was laughing. Even though he couldn’t see Sally, this was as close to old times as he could possibly get.
“No,” replied Sally simply, and Stan chuckled some more, but when Sally spoke again, her voice was as serious as Stan had ever heard it. “Actually, there is something important I have to tell you. I saw Caesar and Leonidas.”
Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you saw those two? Leonidas is alive?” he asked in shock.
Sally grimly continued. “Yeah. One time, I tried to join, and I went to this place I didn’t recognize. It was really dark, and I could barely see anything, but Caesar and Leonidas were there. They were saying something I couldn’t hear to a big group of guys that seemed to be listening to them. I tried to focus in, but I lost the connection.”
“So they had people with them? How many, Sally?” asked Stan, panic creeping into his voice as he began to contemplate the possibilities of what this development could mean.
“There were probably about twenty-five, total. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like Caesar was giving some sort of speech, and they were cheering for him.”
Stan gulped, sweat breaking out. “So . . . does that mean . . . that Caesar and Leonidas are gathering followers? What about Minotaurus, was he there? Did they have weapons?” Stan was talking very fast now, panic rising in his throat. “What were they doing there, Sally? Can you tell me anything else?”
“I don’t . . . oh, wait . . . oh, no . . .” Sally’s response was suddenly punctuated by static, like a radio signal was being jammed. “I’m . . . losing the con . . . the connection, Stan . . . I’ve got . . . got to go . . .”
“No, Sally! Don’t go!” Stan was on edge now. With his fatigue, the knowledge of an organization headed by Caesar, and finding out that Sally could still speak to him, Stan was in a very unstable state. He was desperate to find solace in the now fading voice of Sally.
“Go . . . go to sleep now . . . Stan, you’re exhausted . . . be careful . . . I promise, I’ll contact . . . contact you again . . . again very soon . . .”
And then there was a static crackle, and the voice ceased. Overwhelmed with exhaustion and despair, Stan gave a moan of dejection and passed out on his bed.
“I’m telling you, it was the weirdest thing!” said Stan, pulling back the ceremonial presidential gold helmet to wipe away the sweat accumulating on his brow. All the councilmen and the president were required to wear them around the town, and they were the only ones by law allowed to do so. They were also each equipped with a golden weapon of their choice, for the sake of ceremony as well as self-defense. Stan had a golden axe strapped across his back, and Charlie, who was walking next to him, had a golden pickaxe latched to his waist.
“Stan, listen, I get that you really miss Sally,” said Charlie. “But there is no way that she telepathically contacted you or something. Trust me, I’ve read pretty much every book in the library about this game and the stuff in it, and there’s no way that it’s possible. I’m sorry, Stan, but Sally’s dead.”
Stan sighed, his tolerance wearing thin. “Charlie, I am positive of what I heard. Sally was speaking to me, and she told me that she had seen Caesar and Leonidas talking to a whole group. And personally, I think it’s very possible that the remnants of King Kev’s army have banded together.”
“Stan, stop!” Charlie butted in. Having lost his cat, Lemon, in the Ender Desert during their quest to take down King Kev, Charlie understood what Stan was going through. However, he felt Stan’s grieving had reached a point of crazy obsession. That Stan was having this kind of hallucination three months after the fact made Charlie seriously question Stan’s mental state.
“Stan, listen to me very carefully. You were dreaming. Sally is dead and she is not coming back. You miss Sally very much and I get that. But do me a favor, and don’t talk until we get to the arena. On the way there, I want you to ask yourself if you really heard Sally talking to you last night, or if you were just hearing things because you were very tired after a long campaign.”
Stan followed his friend’s instructions. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Charlie was probably right. Stan certainly had done his fair share of grieving over Sally, but he realized that his exhaustion after the campaign may very well have caused him to hear voices. By the time Stan, Charlie, and the throng of players around them had crossed the grassy courtyard and entered the Element City Spleef Arena, Stan had dismissed his late-night conversation with Sally as nothing more than a delusion.
CHAPTER 3 THE SPLEEF QUARTERFINALS
There could be nothing better said about the Element City Spleef Arena than that it was the crown jewel of the metropolis. It was expertly constructed with elegant patterns of blocks of diamond, gold, lapis lazuli, and brick. The large building was ringed by the ornate courtyard, which was more often than not packed with fans, hoping to hear anything to indicate what was happening inside.
When Stan defeated King Kev in battle and became president of the Grand Republic of Elementia, it was less than three days before an enormous petition surfaced, requesting the reinstatement of Spleef in Elementia. After consulting briefly with the Council of Eight, and particularly with DZ (who was an experienced Spleef player from back in the day), Stan had decreed that the sport of Spleef be allowed back into Elementia. He had ordered the construction of a new Spleef arena equidistant from the upper-level and lower-level districts of Element City, so that citizens of all levels could easily come and watch the Spleef matches.
Under the new mandate, a new schedule of Spleef games was carefully set up. There were also variations to the game put in place to make the sport more interesting. All these changes made Stan very excited to see what today’s quarterfinal match would hold. He was even more excited, though, to see how DZ, Kat, and Ben, as the three members of the competing Zombies Spleef team, would handle it.
Kat pulled the green leather helmet onto her head and fastened the strap under her chin. She grumbled to herself, not liking this new feature. Although leather armor had become much more lightweight in the last update of Minecraft, it now also required additional straps. Kat personally would have preferred the heavier but simpler leather cap, tunic, pants, and boots that she was used to.
She was sitting in a cobblestone room with a chest, three chairs, and an iron door on both sides. The two chairs were occupied by Kat’s teammates, DZ and Ben (who, alongside his brothers Bill and Bob, was now a chief of police in Element City). The chest contained their gear, which they were now putting on. While one iron door led to the corridor through which they had entered the room, the other led to the Element City Spleef Arena. On this square field, the three players were expected to battle another team of three for the amusement of six hundred spectators.
“I still can’t believe that Stan makes us wear this stupid armor,” complained DZ in his heavy New York accent as he struggled into his green leather pants. DZ had played Spleef back before King Kev had banned it, when no armor was required. He was so used to playing without armor that, to this day, he refused to wear it, even in combat.
“Ah, be quiet, DZ,” retorted Ben, who was already suited up and pulling his diamond shovel out of the chest. “He only added it so that we can whack each other with shovels now!”
“Oh, please, don’t you remember the old days? People used to hit each other with shovels all the time! They weren’t supposed to, but the refs didn’t stop it. The crowd liked it, and it was freaking awesome!” DZ replied as he finally managed to tie the straps of the leather pants.
“As a matter of fact, I never did see any of the old Spleef matches, because my brothers and I—”
“Come on, guys!” exclaimed Kat, standing up. “We’ve got to focus, okay? We almost lost to the Ghasts during that last round!”
“We did not almost lose, I had that match the entire time!” retorted DZ, snatching up his diamond shovel.
“DZ, you taking out one guy while the other guy gets knocked into a pit by a snowball is not ‘having the match!’” said Kat. “I get that you’re probably the best Spleef player in the league, but if the dispensers hadn’t started to fire snowballs, you would have gotten destroyed by those two!”
There was healthy applause for this statement. Almost none of the citizens of Elementia understood NPC villagers the way that Stan did, and they knew that. All they saw was that Stan was trying to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves.
“Stan2012, what are your thoughts on the emerging organization calling itself the Noctem Alliance?”
In the past month, there had been a growing number of protest rallies in Element City staged by members of a group called the Noctem Alliance. Despite the fall of King Kev, they still believed that the lower-level players of Minecraft didn’t deserve the same basic rights as the older, upper-level players.
“The Noctem Alliance is, as of right now, just a protesters’ group, so I have no control over them,” Stan said calmly. “Everyone is free to voice their own opinions, regardless of how I, or anybody else, might feel about it. However, I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on them. Any group that threatens the equality of the players of Elementia won’t be tolerated. The Noctem Alliance can say what they want, I won’t stop them, as much as I disagree with them. However, if the Alliance acts on any of their views, there will be no hesitation in putting the group to rest.”
The applause shook the courtyard. Although all present were aware that Stan was vehemently opposed to the views presented by the Noctem Alliance, it was encouraging to know he believed in their laws to a point where he would not actively stop the Alliance unless they took action.
“Stan2012, here is your last question: What are your thoughts on tracking down and neutralizing any of King Kev’s remaining allies?”
“Well, I think my thoughts on that should be pretty obvious,” replied Stan with a chuckle, and a charged laughter rippled through the audience.
“I don’t know where King Kev’s remaining supporters are, or what they are doing. Our army has devoted almost half its resources to catching any of King Kev’s followers who are still out there. I think that we are giving all that we possibly can to the search right now, but I’m ready to send more soldiers out if the traitors don’t reveal themselves soon. Rest assured, however, as long as I am your president, there is no danger in Element City from King Kev’s supporters.”
The applause the crowd was barely holding back now surged forward as they sang the praises of their president who they fully trusted to keep them safe and happy. Stan was elated. The applause was still strong as he left the platform and entered the side tower to watch Blackraven’s interview.
Blackraven had always had somewhat different views from Stan. Personally, Stan believed that Blackraven was in favor of putting resources where they were not necessary, and taking them from where they were. Although Blackraven did have a following among the citizens of Elementia, it paled in comparison to Stan’s.
One thing Stan gave Blackraven credit for was that, although Stan may not agree with them all, Blackraven was firm in his beliefs, and he made that plain. Respectable a quality as that may be, Stan still did not feel that Blackraven should have run for president. Blackraven had had to give up his seat on the Council of Eight to do so, and he almost certainly would lose, as very few players agreed with his ideas.
For example, Blackraven believed that investing resources in diamond mining was of supreme importance, even if that meant less effort went into looking for King Kev’s remaining followers. He also believed that people with similar views should band together into political parties. This was unsettling, as the shady Noctem Alliance wanted to become a political party. Perhaps the view that Stan most disagreed with was that since the NPC villagers lived on the Elementia server, they should pay taxes the same as the players.
After Blackraven finished answering his questions, he walked over to sit next to Stan as the polite applause died down. Stan turned to wish Blackraven luck, but a pensive look had crossed the old player’s yellow-and-black-feathered face, so Stan looked away. Instead, he looked out the window of the tower at the voting machine.
The machine was an ingenious contraption of the Mechanist’s design. One by one, the citizens of Elementia lined up and walked into a room, inside of which there were two buttons: one to vote for Stan, and one to vote for Blackraven. Press a button, and pistons ejected you gently from the room, and the door opened for the next voter.
By the time the sun was setting, the last voter had entered the booth. As the door swung shut for the last time, there was a moment of silence as one of the officials checked the records of the voting within the machine. Then, a frizz of white hair appeared on a platform atop the machine as the Mechanist climbed up and read the redstone circuitry that sat before him. Stan saw him give a slight nod and a tiny smile before turning to address the crowd.
“The votes are all in,” the Mechanist announced, his Texan accent deep and pronounced. “The winner of the election for president of the Grand Republic of Elementia is Stan2012, for his second term!”
Stan tried to look dignified, but he couldn’t stop the uncontrollable grin that had spread over his face. Blackraven didn’t seem to mind, though. He offered Stan congratulations, which Stan returned, shaking Blackraven’s hand for good measure. As Blackraven headed down the stairs to leave the castle, Stan looked over the bridge to tumultuous applause.
“Thank you, citizens of Elementia! Together, we will make this server the best place that it can be! Thank you for giving me the chance to continue to prove myself to you! It is my job to serve you, so I hope that you find yourselves happy, healthy, and safe under my leadership. Good night, and thank you again!”
The applause shook the ground beneath his feet as Stan walked back into the tower. He was quite content that he was president once again, but he felt exhausted, and was eager to finally get some sleep.
CHAPTER 2 THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT
Stan could not deny that he was very happy he had been reelected, but right now, he could not hide his annoyance. He had explicitly told the guards of the castle that he would talk to anybody who needed him the next day, but not tonight. Yet he had still been woken up four times, by DZ, Kat, Charlie, and DZ again. His friends only wanted to congratulate him, but Stan was far too tired to appreciate it. Stan ordered the guard firmly to tell everybody to leave him be for the rest of the night, and slammed the door irritably.
Stan got back into bed, glad that the campaign was over and that he could now get some real sleep for the first time in days. He pulled the covers up, closed his eyes, and was about to fall asleep when a faint voice caught his ear.
“Stan . . . hey, Stan, are you awake?”
“Whoever you are, GO AWAY!” barked Stan, hiding his head under his pillow in his angst.
“Oh, okay then. I thought that you’d be rather happy to hear my voice again, noob, but if you’d rather sleep, I get it . . .”
Suddenly, Stan was wide awake. He glanced wildly around the room, daring to hope that it could really be true, that the voice could really be that of . . .
“Sally?” Stan asked tentatively.
“Yeeeees?” came the sarcastic, smirky voice.
“Oh my God. It’s you!” cried Stan, his eyes brightening in delight. “You’re alive! But how . . . where are . . .”
“No, you idiot! I’m not alive, Minotaurus cut me open with an axe, remember?”
“But . . . wait a second . . . ,” said Stan, his elation suddenly shifting to a sudden-onset headache. “If you’re . . . but then . . . Sal, how are you talking to me if you’re dead?”
“Well,” came Sally’s voice, the source of which Stan still could not distinguish, “ever since I died, I’ve been trying to find ways to get back onto the server. I’ve gotta hand it to King Kev, he really did his research. I’ve tried every method of rejoining, of hacking my way in, of bypassing the blacklist . . . you know, the list of people who have been banned from Elementia. But what you hear now is the closest I’ve been able to get.”
“So . . . can you see me?” asked Stan.
“Yeah, I see you,” she replied. “It’s weird, my view of you keeps shifting around the room, though, and I have to really focus on you to keep my sight there. Frankly, you’re not too much to look at, so I think you owe me an apology there.”
Stan chuckled. “Well, death hasn’t changed you much, Sally. Is this the first time that you’ve managed to do this . . . this . . . well, whatever this is?”
“No,” Sally said. “I’ve been able to do this for about the past week or so, and it’s so strange, I really don’t have that much control over where I get to see. It’s like I see flashes of things that are happening all over Elementia. Sometimes I see trees in the forest, or pigs in the plains, or buildings in the city. Anyway, if I don’t focus on what I’m seeing really hard, I lose the connection.”
“That is weird,” said Stan, thinking about what might cause this but drawing a blank. “So, have you talked to anybody else?”
“No, frankly, most people are too boring to focus on,” replied Sally, and Stan could almost see the sarcastic simper on her face. “I just happened to have the luck of teleporting directly into your bedroom. By the way, it was cute when DZ tried to come in twice to congratulate you. And also, congrats, Mr. Two-Term President. Not bad for a noob who can’t even flop down onto a pillow correctly.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Stan whined, but he was laughing. Even though he couldn’t see Sally, this was as close to old times as he could possibly get.
“No,” replied Sally simply, and Stan chuckled some more, but when Sally spoke again, her voice was as serious as Stan had ever heard it. “Actually, there is something important I have to tell you. I saw Caesar and Leonidas.”
Stan’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you saw those two? Leonidas is alive?” he asked in shock.
Sally grimly continued. “Yeah. One time, I tried to join, and I went to this place I didn’t recognize. It was really dark, and I could barely see anything, but Caesar and Leonidas were there. They were saying something I couldn’t hear to a big group of guys that seemed to be listening to them. I tried to focus in, but I lost the connection.”
“So they had people with them? How many, Sally?” asked Stan, panic creeping into his voice as he began to contemplate the possibilities of what this development could mean.
“There were probably about twenty-five, total. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like Caesar was giving some sort of speech, and they were cheering for him.”
Stan gulped, sweat breaking out. “So . . . does that mean . . . that Caesar and Leonidas are gathering followers? What about Minotaurus, was he there? Did they have weapons?” Stan was talking very fast now, panic rising in his throat. “What were they doing there, Sally? Can you tell me anything else?”
“I don’t . . . oh, wait . . . oh, no . . .” Sally’s response was suddenly punctuated by static, like a radio signal was being jammed. “I’m . . . losing the con . . . the connection, Stan . . . I’ve got . . . got to go . . .”
“No, Sally! Don’t go!” Stan was on edge now. With his fatigue, the knowledge of an organization headed by Caesar, and finding out that Sally could still speak to him, Stan was in a very unstable state. He was desperate to find solace in the now fading voice of Sally.
“Go . . . go to sleep now . . . Stan, you’re exhausted . . . be careful . . . I promise, I’ll contact . . . contact you again . . . again very soon . . .”
And then there was a static crackle, and the voice ceased. Overwhelmed with exhaustion and despair, Stan gave a moan of dejection and passed out on his bed.
“I’m telling you, it was the weirdest thing!” said Stan, pulling back the ceremonial presidential gold helmet to wipe away the sweat accumulating on his brow. All the councilmen and the president were required to wear them around the town, and they were the only ones by law allowed to do so. They were also each equipped with a golden weapon of their choice, for the sake of ceremony as well as self-defense. Stan had a golden axe strapped across his back, and Charlie, who was walking next to him, had a golden pickaxe latched to his waist.
“Stan, listen, I get that you really miss Sally,” said Charlie. “But there is no way that she telepathically contacted you or something. Trust me, I’ve read pretty much every book in the library about this game and the stuff in it, and there’s no way that it’s possible. I’m sorry, Stan, but Sally’s dead.”
Stan sighed, his tolerance wearing thin. “Charlie, I am positive of what I heard. Sally was speaking to me, and she told me that she had seen Caesar and Leonidas talking to a whole group. And personally, I think it’s very possible that the remnants of King Kev’s army have banded together.”
“Stan, stop!” Charlie butted in. Having lost his cat, Lemon, in the Ender Desert during their quest to take down King Kev, Charlie understood what Stan was going through. However, he felt Stan’s grieving had reached a point of crazy obsession. That Stan was having this kind of hallucination three months after the fact made Charlie seriously question Stan’s mental state.
“Stan, listen to me very carefully. You were dreaming. Sally is dead and she is not coming back. You miss Sally very much and I get that. But do me a favor, and don’t talk until we get to the arena. On the way there, I want you to ask yourself if you really heard Sally talking to you last night, or if you were just hearing things because you were very tired after a long campaign.”
Stan followed his friend’s instructions. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Charlie was probably right. Stan certainly had done his fair share of grieving over Sally, but he realized that his exhaustion after the campaign may very well have caused him to hear voices. By the time Stan, Charlie, and the throng of players around them had crossed the grassy courtyard and entered the Element City Spleef Arena, Stan had dismissed his late-night conversation with Sally as nothing more than a delusion.
CHAPTER 3 THE SPLEEF QUARTERFINALS
There could be nothing better said about the Element City Spleef Arena than that it was the crown jewel of the metropolis. It was expertly constructed with elegant patterns of blocks of diamond, gold, lapis lazuli, and brick. The large building was ringed by the ornate courtyard, which was more often than not packed with fans, hoping to hear anything to indicate what was happening inside.
When Stan defeated King Kev in battle and became president of the Grand Republic of Elementia, it was less than three days before an enormous petition surfaced, requesting the reinstatement of Spleef in Elementia. After consulting briefly with the Council of Eight, and particularly with DZ (who was an experienced Spleef player from back in the day), Stan had decreed that the sport of Spleef be allowed back into Elementia. He had ordered the construction of a new Spleef arena equidistant from the upper-level and lower-level districts of Element City, so that citizens of all levels could easily come and watch the Spleef matches.
Under the new mandate, a new schedule of Spleef games was carefully set up. There were also variations to the game put in place to make the sport more interesting. All these changes made Stan very excited to see what today’s quarterfinal match would hold. He was even more excited, though, to see how DZ, Kat, and Ben, as the three members of the competing Zombies Spleef team, would handle it.
Kat pulled the green leather helmet onto her head and fastened the strap under her chin. She grumbled to herself, not liking this new feature. Although leather armor had become much more lightweight in the last update of Minecraft, it now also required additional straps. Kat personally would have preferred the heavier but simpler leather cap, tunic, pants, and boots that she was used to.
She was sitting in a cobblestone room with a chest, three chairs, and an iron door on both sides. The two chairs were occupied by Kat’s teammates, DZ and Ben (who, alongside his brothers Bill and Bob, was now a chief of police in Element City). The chest contained their gear, which they were now putting on. While one iron door led to the corridor through which they had entered the room, the other led to the Element City Spleef Arena. On this square field, the three players were expected to battle another team of three for the amusement of six hundred spectators.
“I still can’t believe that Stan makes us wear this stupid armor,” complained DZ in his heavy New York accent as he struggled into his green leather pants. DZ had played Spleef back before King Kev had banned it, when no armor was required. He was so used to playing without armor that, to this day, he refused to wear it, even in combat.
“Ah, be quiet, DZ,” retorted Ben, who was already suited up and pulling his diamond shovel out of the chest. “He only added it so that we can whack each other with shovels now!”
“Oh, please, don’t you remember the old days? People used to hit each other with shovels all the time! They weren’t supposed to, but the refs didn’t stop it. The crowd liked it, and it was freaking awesome!” DZ replied as he finally managed to tie the straps of the leather pants.
“As a matter of fact, I never did see any of the old Spleef matches, because my brothers and I—”
“Come on, guys!” exclaimed Kat, standing up. “We’ve got to focus, okay? We almost lost to the Ghasts during that last round!”
“We did not almost lose, I had that match the entire time!” retorted DZ, snatching up his diamond shovel.
“DZ, you taking out one guy while the other guy gets knocked into a pit by a snowball is not ‘having the match!’” said Kat. “I get that you’re probably the best Spleef player in the league, but if the dispensers hadn’t started to fire snowballs, you would have gotten destroyed by those two!”
