text: [Themes: sci-fi]
  
  You think nothing of it. Right now, you've got a ticket out of Raoul's wrath and the destruction of the surface if AimFire is as insane as they're supposed to be. This is really the best opportunity you have, and you don't feel like rolling the dice on whether you live or not is worth it right now.
  
  Viden follows up swiftly, and within an hour, you've combed a handful of disgusting, withered mushrooms.
  
  "Hey, not too shabby. Keep it up," he offers. You're watched, but nobody is shackling you in place so far. You count your blessings when you can. As soon as you realize there's a rotating watch, you give up any idea of leaving in the night. You go to sleep in a bare cubby in the wall. Luckily, the government didn't find anyone overnight. Flap draws everyone into a circle (except for Raoul, who apparently spends an hour each morning to manage his mustache.)
  
  "Okay, here's the deal," he says. "We're going to stay down here and do fuck-all until they hit us. They're going to, I know, because they don't really know where Raoul is. Frankly, we're really lucky that this cave depth is completely unpublished. You can be sure some future investigation is going to encroach on this, so at some point in the future, we're gonna have to move. But right now, plan is to stay low for the day. Got it?"
  
  Everyone nods (you along with them). It does make some sense. These aren't all senseless minions it seems. You wait in a mix of worry and anticipation, but not for long.
  
  Cccccrrrackkk! You hear the deep resonation of shells detonating somewhere aboveground. Some of them land on the cave, creating strong shockwaves you can feel in your feet. By all means, you'd expect the ceiling to collapse on you at any point, but it doesn't. Someone later explains that if the rock was more brittle, it wouldn't spread the impact as well and ironically, the ceiling would collapse without you feeling the vibration. So apparently, that was a good thing.
  
  You're held under threat of gunfire by a couple of the lackeys while the rest go about checking things. The report comes back in twenty minutes: all stable. The main vent up isn't blocked, though there are some ceiling collapses elsewhere in the upper level.
  
  After a day, the operations resume as normal. It looks like they film midgets fighting down in the ring, probably through some kind of encrypted hollowstream, and Raoul shares profits from a gambling table 50/50 with Flap. In fact, Flap turns out to be semi-likeable. Viden, too. Most of the actual fighters just ignore you too often to make acquaintance, but you're really starting to question if it matters much whether you live up there or down here. Flap sets you to a variety of tasks that aren't dangerous and frequently more interesting than the boring life you led as a farmer where bots did everything.
  
  This is the place where things are really happening. So what's next?
  
  > ask to get involved in the gambling
  The fighting management is a step under the gambling. On the path you're headed, you'll be managing fighters instead of handling the money up top. That, of course, means you'll have less overall. You cut some time out to ask Raoul while everyone else is busy. It can't hurt.
  
  He chuckles. "Are you reliable enough for it," he asks. "Do you have skill in negotiation, or advertising to a dangerous crowd? Although..." he cocks his head a little, creating a glint off his mustache. "Are you willing to learn martial arts?"
  
  "Oh, I don't know if I want to be a fighter-"
  
  "No," he interrupts. "Not as a fighter. There is an entire planet of people who train for martial arts."
  
  "Woah!" You're genuinely shocked. "An entire planet!?"
  
  "Yes, the planet of Chopp. And wouldn't they be a great source of clients? I would go, but they simply won't let you near a dojo without proving your competence, or signing on for years. The room and board is free while you live in the dojo, but they expect you to take part in chores and duties for your time there. You'll be thoroughly out of my hands, but you can leave messages for me through a hollownet stream. Once you've added a few clients, you can come on back and we'll talk about getting you involved in the more regular drama. Well, what do you think?"
  
  > Hi-yeah!
  You arrive at the ship docks the next day, bidding goodbye to Videk and Flap, more or less the two you really know. Raoul was already gone, probably off to scam someone's grandma out of their bingo money.
  
  The docks are a big concrete yard, with massive structures designed to automatically guide down and secure ships. Robotic cranes and arms wheel around crates in a constant cycle of cargo coming in and shipping out. You turn to the left. There's a bright red ship, polished chrome top to bottom, with bright steel lettering in yellow across the center. You can see the captain in the distance, beckoning people aboard. Even the captain looks impressive.
  
  But that's not your ship. Yours is a small, lackluster pill with little in the way of weaponry. It has letters written across the center, too: ECONOMY. Raoul, that cheap ass!
  
  "Heya," the captain says. "You lookin' fer getty in?" He smiles warmly, his unobrow complementing his accent.
  
  "Yes," you say hesitantly, showing him your boarding ticket.
  
  "Well that's jus' great! Hop ye on in, there. You can call me Neand."
  
  You climb up the landing ramp to a narrow chassis with seats on either side. It's a far cry from luxury, but it'll have to do. Needless to say, it's a long ride.
  
  The ship rumbles as it sets off, lancing through the sky in no time. You're a bit surprised when you realize how fast it picks up speed. The spaceship is built more like a needle than a traditional ship that might carry a lot of food, utilities, or cargo. In contrast, most of the bulk on this ship is just the fuel tanks. Luckily, Neand stays pretty quiet on the ride through space.
  
  Solar systems stretch out like crumbs on an unending black carpet. The ship is a pebble, skipping across the canvas. Having never been outside the atmosphere before, this is all pretty fascinating. Half a week later, you finally see a pale orb in the distance, blue and green.
  
  From your seat in space, you can see a massive fissure running almost a quarter of the planet.
  
  "Takin' a look at that there, eh? They call it Cut Canyon. Legend say it been put there by champion Yelsal Ot, 'undreds of years ago. The Ot family keeps 'emselves a cozy 'lil temple down there. Alright, we goin' in, block yer ears."
  
  As soon as the ship starts entering the atmosphere, you grab a pair of headphones. The noise is still intense, but a few minutes later, the ship is guided to a landing clamp, and all falls silent. You descend the ramp, waving goodbye (and good riddance) to Neand. After finishing the paperwork at the docks, you head off in the direction of a dojo. They're in sight even from the point where you landed, built on top of arid mesas overlooking a sea of trees.
  
  It's going to be a trek, so you might as well start.
  
  > Along the winding trail
  A wide dirt path makes the walk easy enough, but it sure takes a long time. Eventually, the waning yellow sunlight forces you to blaze a small distance off-trail to fall asleep. You knew it was going to be a while, but you had no idea it would take this long! And for the amount of dojos built everywhere, you'd expect to have passed at least one person on the road. Must be a slow day.
  
  Day comes, cold and chilling. Frost covers the ground, glimmering in thin sheets of ice. You shiver, your breath puffing into the air, and look up. A massive cloud blocks the sun, but it drops no rain or hail. Unusual, but you aren't going to question the weather on a foreign planet. You begin walking, only to quickly discover you're barefoot!
  
  "Where the fuck are my shoes," you mutter angrily. "Who would steal a man's shoes!?" There is no response, only the constant shock of the cold with every step along the way. You begin to climb the mesa.
  
  Half a day goes by. The sun overhead helps with the chill of the cloud, even though it still looks like dusk outside. You begin to hear what sounds like a man running and breathing loudly, clearly fatigued. You stand out of the way as he rounds one of the switchbacks behind you, coming into view.
  
  He's wearing your shoes.
  
  > push him off the cliff
  You can't believe what you're seeing. This guy, who robbed you in the middle of the night, is traveling on the dangerous side of a cliff road right past you. If karma exists, this must be your cue.
  
  Just as he's running right up to you, he begins to pivot his body. You tackle him, catching your balance where he used to stand. The man stumbles, mouth agape, off the side. He screams as an arm shatters beneath him against a rock. You look away, trying not to listen as his shouting grows more distant. That was uglier than you figured it would be. Then again, you didn't have a lot of time to decide how to react.
  
  By nightfall, you've reached the dojo. A great courtyard lies in front of the building itself, which is made in the traditional style of its home planet.
  
  "Ah, so you've come," a man calls out from atop a tall wooden pole.
  
  "I've come to train. Who are you?"
  
  "You may call me Gengshi Li-Tao. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister...?"
  
  "You can call me Matchstick," you suggest.
  
  "It is a pleasure, Matchstick. Please, walk through the main doors, take a left down a flight of stairs, and you will see beds on the right in the next room." You follow his directions, and you're fast asleep.
  
  > The dojo life
  You slowly become aware of someone poking you with a broom handle, ushering you out of bed. She says something about inexcusable lazyness, but you don't bother paying attention to all that. You've got priorities. You'll have to spend at least a week here talking to anyone if you want to get into a social circle.
  
  You hear talk about one of the prominent fighters dying in a freak accident at the bottom of a cliff. Apparently, he was trying to return shoes retrieved from a petty thief to their owner. You feel just a little guilty about it, but how would you know, anyway?
  
  The training is rough and grueling for the first week. To your horror, nobody is opening up to chit-chat. They refuse to talk to white belts about anything besides techniques and training. The ground frosts over every week or so from massive clouds. It seems to be normal afterall.
  
  After a full week of training, you're put on chore rotation. It just reminds you of farming when any of the machines are down or updating, so it doesn't bug you much. You finally get to talking with a member called Martin, but he's a white belt like you.
  
  He does have some contacts, who he says are more casual. It turns out the entire other side of the planet is far less competitive about things, only learning martial arts as a background characteristic. You ask about transportation to one of those places, but the number Martin quotes is a little more than what you can afford after the steep cut for exchanging Nipthmoney. You try asking around, but you're mostly ignored.
  
  Another week of training passes by. At some point, Gengshi Li-Tao comes up to you. "So, Matchstick," he begins. "I've noticed two things. You have the potential to be a competent fighter," he says, "and you want to get passage to Lant Manifu, a place of lesser traditions. Is this true?"
  
  "Yes."
  
  "Well, I'll pay for your passage myself if you can win an all-rank dojo tournament here," he says, leaning in to whisper. "I happen to know about the shoes incident. We have figured out your involvement in it." Leaning back, he smiles. "Of course, if you don't try to win a tournament, I can simply reveal this information and let justice take its course."
  
  > train, train, train
  Raoul never set a limit on how long until you have to return. You're effectively out of his hands while you're away, and as long as you're up to something that benefits him in the long run, who cares how long it takes. You might as well train since you're not hating it.
  
  Days and weeks pass by. You defeat opponent after opponent, earning a pair of sandals (finally). A whole season slips by, and your training only grows more fierce through Winter. You're going to win the Kaikendoshu tournament! It's only a matter of time! You've gained five belts, and you're now on red with orange polka dots. There's only eight student belts. Gengshi, who is also the leader of the dojo as it turns out, is most pleased.
  
  Another season passes by, and the mesa blooms spectacularly where you at first thought there was no plant life. As you look across the expanse of trees, all the mesas are covered in yellow flowers. The local dojo tournament is only a few weeks away.
  
  "Beautiful, isn't it?" a rough voice says behind you. Turning, you see Benchi. He stares at you with a passive grin, like he's above you. "You know what else is nice? Winning this tournament. That's exactly what I'm going to do."
  
  You'll admit, he's probably right. Just because you're some sort of hotshot natural at martial arts doesn't mean you can take on someone who's lived on dojo welfare for years. Besides, he's a plaid belt, and that's the highest ranking below the teacher belts. How can you possibly deal with plaid?
  
  "Well, I'll leave you to that view," he says.
  
  > Tournament day
  The time for the tournament has come. You and nine others step into the dojo, prepared to demonstrate your mastery of various martial arts. You're pitted against Sumbich first.
  
  He comes at you like he's running on coals. You side-step a punch and check him with your own. The poor yellow belt was outclassed. You're not too concerned about the other opponents' fights, but eventually it's your turn again. This time it's Catherine, who waits and squints at you menacingly. If she had a spirit animal, it'd be a trained and angry nun. That's what it takes to get as far as she has.
  
  Catherine fakes a run, shifting positions to a defensive stance, but you don't fall for it. Instantly, she's back on an offensive, kicking to try and intimidate you into letting her close the gap. She thrusts a leg, but you kick it in the same direction, knocking her off-balance. As she somersaults to recover, you land a furious chop to her kidneys. She's out for the time being.
  
  Now it's just you and Benchi. You glare at him. He glares at you. And then you make your move.
  
  > Weep like a child
  You begin to sniffle at first. You even add a couple whimpers in, but it's having no effect. You're willing to win in any way technically possible! You just need to get that victory. It's really the best bet.
  
  You start crying openly. Tears streak down your face, dribbling off your chin. Benchi sees your guard is down. Is he going to fall for it? No, he's hesitating. He keeps hesitating. You try to make it look like you're covering your eyes.
  
  Predictably, he goes for a sloppy punch, expecting no retaliation. You easily knock it out of the way, driving a fist into his stomach. He falls down, winded. Enraged, Benchi starts grappling for your legs, but you simply walk away. By the rules of the tournament, you've already won. "Never let your guard down," you tell him.
  
  Gengshi Li-Tao seems sad. "I suppose you'll want to take the ticket to Lant Manifu, then. I'll have it arranged by tomorrow."
  
  You start to feel like you're seeing the bigger picture again, as the rest of the plan comes back together. It's been years since you actually made progress on Raoul's task. Losing that fight would've kept it a dream, and you'd still be living in a dojo on a plateau. Now that you think of it that way, you don't really mind upsetting Gengshi.
  
  It makes sense to move on. What you've accomplished has taken a long time, but the respect you'll get for your belt position makes the whole job much, much easier. The online gamblers were never here, in the traditional side of the world. It seems you've got everything in place to make a lot of cash.
  
  The train station is a sterile jungle of cords sweeping through the air over a metal deck, where you wait. It arrives, a shiny white vessel to take you away from this overly-involved world of martial arts. You scan in with the ticket ID, taking a window seat. Just watching the buildings and structures fall away is mentally relieving. You've spent far too long in exactly one place.
  
  The train arrives about noon next day. You step out into a pouring rain, jogging to the nearest roof. Across the street, you see vendors with booths set up for a variety of delicious foods. People chance the rain just to try some. A few stay outdoors the entire time, letting the water run off their jackets. This is definitely the kind of place to find online gamblers.
  
  A few days pass, but you have some leads, many of them from around gambling tables. You've spread the word to them about the midget fights, lied a little by saying you're not involved, and overall swindled them into taking you at face value. Time to get a word with Raoul.
  
  "Hello, who is this?" he answers with suspicion.
  
  "Matchstick."
  
  "...oh, right, I sent you on a little mission a few years ago. You've certainly taken your time!"
  
  "I had to actually win a tournament just to get here," you exclaim. "I've got nine leads on the gambling now, and they all seem like they've got a little money."
  
  "Excellent," he says. "Do you need me to drag you all the way back here, or are you fine working abroad? You'll get your half of the earnings off your leads sent to you through dummy accounts."
  
  You hesitate in thought. "I think I'll stick with working abroad."
  
  "Perfect," he replies. "Send a message if you have anything else."
  
  Click. The call ends, and you're feeling good. You didn't really love living on Nipthm so much you'd move back, where you'd have to be surrounded by the fighters and their antics again. Probably the only reason you were interested enough to stay around that at all, was boredom.
  
  You continue to make leads around the massive region of Lant, moving from place to place in the process. Your yearly payout gives you a moderate cut, but some of the important, more involved leads recognize you as a cheap-shot winner and won't give you time to talk about the fighting ring.
  
  You have to keep searching for clients all the time. It's not the worst job since your boss is far off and you've got no set hours or expectations, but after a few years, you decide the meager earnings just aren't worth it, and you apply for an actual job.
  
  You get a job at a sushi bar. You really like their offerings and you get to eat lunch their for free. Unfortunately, the owner is very strict about courtesy and won't allow any kind of flirting, so you miss out on a couple possible matches. So much for love.
  
  The years roll forward. You do finally find someone, a lady called Gretchen. You hit it off at a grocery store talking about how delicious hummus is. You're both too old to bother with kids, so it's a quiet life (except for the occasional cackle she mysteriously gives from the kitchen, but you've come to like that too).
  
  Another few decades wash away. You're gambling online, and so far you seem to be winning. Every number is lining up. You check on your poker game. You're winning that too, with a king of spades in the hole! You switch to an ad about a new hoverscooter, all sleek designs and a lower foot rest to make it easier to climb on for older people. Ooh, you're going to afford it now! The queen of spades shows up, restarting the poker game. It's fine; everything is riding on this game of bingo.
  
  Suddenly, the game ends. It claims everyone disconnected, forfeiting their bets. You throw the data screen at the floor, shattering it. You're so angry, you collapse and have a heart attack. Gretchen tries to get you revived at a hospital, but they say it's been too long.