The Game of Ten

I know what awaits us at our destination, and why Frogface said not to trust them. According to Magma—my lava bodied neighbor—and the creature in the cell next to him, there is a legend about the Lost Planet of Irestiikaar. He tells me, “Every 10 years, a ship that mocks the sky collects 60 Hosts representing 60 random planets throughout the known Universe. They call this ship Adreestiaah which means “pretender.” She will deliver these 60 Hosts to a planet said to be in a different dimension. And the Hosts shall fight to the death in a Game they call the Et’Emtepii’Em, or Great Game of Ten.” “So, if every other being in the Universe is aware of the Red Bloods,” I ask Magma, “why are we so ignorant to everything around us?” “Because your Gods chose to keep you hidden from the rest of us,” he answers looking toward City Center. “They choose to keep you ignorant. You are protected by your Gods and their government. They hide the oldest secrets, and of all of the Gods in the Universe, your Gods are the most clever— the most unique. They mastered creation, and when they created your people, they kept them to themselves.” “Why?” I ask in reply. “Nobody knows,” he says, “they like to keep quiet.” “I’ve noticed,” I say, as I look toward the Captain at City Center. “How do they have the power to take random life, and sacrifice it to another dimension?” I ask him. “Is the Universe lawless?” He replies, “The guy three cells down said that the Game was around about 12 million years before your Gods were. They are not in control of it; they have just learned to slow the process somehow. At one time, the ship would collect hundreds every week to sacrifice.” I lean to look at the man to find him staring back at me. He seems to do that a lot. But he does not look with lust or comfort, he stares with hatred and disgust. He is tall and has long brown hair. He looks just like a Human but has a slightly longer neck like the Gods do. I wonder if Earth is really the only place that we inhabit. Or, if he is not Human, how many other species are out there that look like us? There are many in these cells that resemble our species, but I am the only one who is treated as an imposter. Magma continues, “Think of the Universe as a being—one mighty Goddess who reigns above them all.” “Like God,” I interrupt, “the Almighty?” “Yes and no,” he laughs, “your God wanted the power, so he labeled himself to be the most high, just like how all of the rest of your Gods deem themselves better. They are the only Gods throughout time who have been able to create life— other than the Elites and the Universe herself. But many of their stories have been lost through time or hidden for protection. No one really knows what makes them so great because no one really knows enough about them.” “We know that they’re uppity, self-praising, douche bags that push their might.” says Frogface from the cell behind me. I look back at him in disapproval to see a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes and look back to Magma. “How does he know all of this?” I ask referring back to the Human-like informant. “He’s not Human, is he?” “No,” he pauses turning to look toward him. “He is a God,” he points toward City Center, “one of them.” “Then why isn’t he all shiny and shit—like them?” I remark. “Because he was banished from Hevaan, they no longer saw him as one of them.” He replies, “So, they took his divinity and cast him out with no name and no title—” “And then they smite you, at their convenience!” Frogface yells again from the cell behind me. I look back once more to see a dramatic reenactment of what I assume would be, his idea of the action of smiting—complete with sound effects and a rather intense death scene. I roll my eyes again and turn back to Magma. “What did he do?” I ask. “That he did not say,” he says back as he stands, and drags his heavy feet to the other side of his cell to talk with the giant slug-thing that takes up the cell between him and this mysterious Banished God.