Somewhere near Limbo----

The leader looked around the box at people around sitting here and there, chatting with each other or trying to find seats facing whichever of the three stadiums they were interested in. He gave a sigh before looking at his two of his direct subordinates and couldn't help but wonder where the third one had gone. He felt a particular foreboding that indicated the onset of a headache. He wasn't upset about it, he got headaches on a regular basis. What irked him at this moment was the quality of the headaches he had to endure. With the two subordinates who were present, there was never much of a surprise or double-takes when it came to the headaches. They gave him the low-maintenance, regularly throbbing headaches and these were a cinch to deal with.

But when it came to the third subordinate, the headache would be near debilitating, and his top would blow at least two or three times within an hour. As he rubbed the ridge of his nose, he considered his life so far and tried to wonder what he had done to deserve such a subordinate or why the elders had seen fit to put him in charge. Malko was now 68 and beginning to feel his age. His hair had completely greyed over the span of the last two years and whenever he was in a particularly vindictive mood, he'd blame his third subordinate for it. Malko felt that he looked like Morgan Freeman though friends assured him that he was just imagining it. To which, he'd reply that he could accept that since the great actor did not have the eight-pack abs he did.

He could still keep up with the training regimen the active operatives followed and very few of them could match him in the sparring arena. His prosthetic left hand was a miracle of Bio-engineering and felt the same, if not better than the one he had lost in his last field operation nearly twenty years ago. Even the phantom pains had stopped a few months after this particular model had been fitted onto him.

He spoke into his lapel mic, "Director Gaste here, anyone have eyes on Jester?"

Silence and then, "Sorry Sir, nothing since he got off the Peak Box elevator."

Well, that merited rubbing his temples, which was noticed by his friend and successor, now one of his subordinates, Tim. So the gentle giant ambled over to Malko. The director often told himself that his friend would probably have been successful anywhere when he thought of the man who succeeded himself at Fulcrum.

"That bozo giving you grief again?" Tim asked in his typical relaxed voice.

"Not really, just don't know what he's up to now."

"That would do it."

"......"

"Think he's gonna do something like last time?"

" Worse."

Now it was the gentle giant who shivered at the thought of something worse than last time's incident.

"Impossible."

"The smirk he's been holding onto has been 20% wider over the last two weeks."

"......."

Finally noticing the grim faces the conversation had produced, Malko's other subordinate walked up to them and clapped her boss' back, "Why the long faces, it's party time." The smile on her face would have been infectious if not for the person who was the subject of the discussion.

"No eyes on Jester" said Tim succinctly.

"........."

"I've never seen a smile turn upside down that fast" Malko finally chuckled as he saw thunderclouds appear on Saki's face.

Saki was the head of Sharp End for the last 6 years when the previous head had died of a heart attack. The petite half Japanese woman looked amazing in her dress since she was always a mess otherwise.

Her hair tied up neatly into a ponytail, the blue dress perfectly accentuated her curves. She had cleaned up very well indeed, so well that, she had received several advances when she had come outside today from several of her own officers. The proposals in question had been responded to in the exact same way a tornado responds to meeting a scarecrow. Three of the 'scarecrows' were still in treatment and one had been critical though he was now stabilized. Several others who had not made their move before they witnessed the 'tornado' had already signed up for therapy citing survivor's guilt.

"I'll pull out his finger nails, then his fingers and then his arms if he does anything like last time."

"Boss here thinks it'll be worse."

"Not possible."

"That's what I said."

"Well he will show up here in half an hour, so maybe I could chain him up to you. That good with you Saki?" Malko pondered.

"He'll be dead within the hour if you do that boss."

"Well at least I'll enjoy myself, thought the dress might get dirty" she said struggling to weigh the pro against the con.

"Well, if that does happen, make sure he dies after his speech and Tim, I've told you a million times you don't need to call me boss anymore."

"Sure thing boss." Tim grinned.

-----------15 minutes later---------------

The Peak box was a VIP booth reserved for the bigwigs and family heads who wished to have the ability to watch any of the three stadiums as they chose. It was placed on a enormous column that was exactly between the three stadiums offering perfect views into each of them. The column was a marvel of engineering housing 2 elevator shafts plus running water, electricty up nearly 500m.

The box at top of the column had 3 seating areas focusing on each of the stadiums. in addition there was 8 VIP rooms above this which offered views of all three stadiums. Finally at the very apex, was a podium for announcements to be made to all three stadiums. The entire structure looked like a hare-brained scheme but was surprisingly stable and safe.

Malko stepped to the podium at the top of the Box and faced the Hover-cam that faced him.

"Welcome everyone to the 72nd Biannual Tournament. I'm happy to see so many old faces and all the new faces. It's hard thing we do and it isn't often we can relax our guards. Now I don't like speeches so without further ado.... " he flinched for a moment as he noticed Travis finally enter the staging area and signal his readiness to give his speech. He paused for less than second as all this registered in his mind and he continued with the slightest pause, " .... I declare the Tournament open and invite the head of Grey Matter to give the customary opening speech. Best of luck to all competitors!!"

He stepped off the podium and gracefully waved Travis towards the podium. Under his breath, he muttered just loud enough for Travis to hear him without his mic picking it up, "Anything like last time and I will chain you to Saki, it's been arranged." All the while smiling pleasantly at the man who passed by him. Travis' smile widened as he heard this and he took the final step on the podium and began.

"My friends, my name is Travis Whitress and I'd like to welcome all of you to The Tournament. But before we let the festivities begin, I'd like to speak about a very serious topic."

Dramatic pause

"The 'C' Word......"

He looked at his audience and continued, "A very basic idea which gives birth to a large number of conflicts, discussions and banality in daily life. We may hear how some one is unwilling to commit to the relationship or wants to 'be free'. What are you? The wind? Get real. Everyone is committed to something or the other."

"I hate plum cake, but when a colleague brought artistically wrapped cupcakes, people jumped over one another to get one, myself included. And for my effort? I bit down expecting chocolate goodness and instead got dry fruit. But what can a person do? You take a bite and you're committed to the cupcake."

Using that banal example, he proudly continued,

"We could get more technical and say that our bodies are committed to our survival, and here we are deliberately going against that commitment such as operating heavy machinery on a regular basis (cars). But that's involuntary (or is it?), so we'll let it slide.

We live with all sorts of commitments (job, shelter, friends, and even disliking others) , and it's the conflict between these that brings it up to the level of losing sleep (among other things) over it. Lest we forget, we also have levels of commitment, since we need to complicate it more."

He stopped and looked around him in a considering manner.

"So how to make sense of this?

Do we just hang it all and "be free"? I think I hear Monro in the background crooning.

Or do we identify and clarify each and every commitment we can think of, because I can see the ocean on the horizon, oh no wait, that's an ocean of therapy and counseling bills.

Maybe the age old maxim;" Everything in moderation"? Doubtful at best.

Whatever be the case it could help if....... Ah screw it, I'm not committed enough to finish talking about this..... BOORN FREEEEE, AS FREE AS THE WIND BLOWS......."

As he sang, laughter erupted from the crowds below while the people in the box around him frowned in annoyance.

Finishing the verse of the song, he took a big showman bow and got off the stadium.

Saki took his place and all three stadiums immediately fell silent.

"Do your best and enjoy the show!!" she chirped and the crowd went wild.

Behind her, Malko was thinking hard about the topic of the speech and staring with the intensity of a laser at Travis.

Did he have to mention the plum cake?I worked hard on that.

As he thought and ignored everything around him, he had a thought and he instantly caught hold of his smiling subordinate and dragged him away to a private room.

---VIP room 07----

Once inside the room he said nothing and simply point to the couch in the room.

Travis took the hint and sat down on the indicated seat and observed his superior pacing up and down the room. He looked around like a mischievous child would in a new environment and relaxed waiting for Malko to formulate his thoughts.

The director eventually stopped pacing and faced the sitting man.

He said, "You used the 5-year command didn't you."

The smile widened and Travis nodded in confirmation.

The director began wondering what madness had been initiated and said,"You know you only get one of those every five years and now you have only 1 left. And you won't get another until 3 years later."

Now the smile widened even more as Travis finally opened his mouth and said, "Actually you're wrong on that count, i don't have one remaining."

"Who gave you another? I don't believe you. Saki would never give you the one she has and Tim would have told me if he had given one of his."

"Such a narrow train of thought."

The director thought for a moment before saying slowly, "You stole one of mine?"

"As I said, narrow train of thought."

The director now developed a sheen of cold sweat.

"The elders?"

"Nope."

"Then .... WHAT THE F***???" As the director's top blew for the first time that day. "Tell me right now or I swear I will beat it out of you myself!!"

"Oh all right, keep your panties on" Travis said dismissively. "You know, when I first found out about the 5-year command, I thought it was a hassle but then, when I read the fine print attached to it I realized what a weapon it was.

' A command/order that cannot be refused nor countermanded for five years, not by any superior or even the elders. Even other 5-year commands made subsequently cannot be used to interact with the pre-existing order. And only the one who had issued it would be able to rescind it before it's time limit.' Dear god, I almost peed myself in joy when I understood it fully."

He stopped as he sank into his own thoughts. Malko stood staring at him for a few moment and then shouted at him,

"WHAT DID YOU ORDER???"

Travis shook off his thoughts and said, "I apologize, but I cannot tell you Sir."

Malko was floored by this. He said slowly, "Are you refusing an order from you superior?"

"Yes and No, Sir."

And suddenly Malko got it.

When Travis saw his boss' face, he said, "You got it, Sir, I don't have any 5-year command left, I used 'em both. And the others will take advantage of me if you tell them as much."

Malko stood silent as he considered the ramifications of what he had just heard.

"The second order prevents me from divulging the contents of the first 5-year command in any way. Even against direct orders by any superiors of mine."

"Please tell me what you did."

"Made a bet."

"........"

The smile widened and began to reach the realm of 'manic' as the man in charge of Grey Matter thought of what he had set into motion.

"I'm going to work you to the bone."

"Too bad that's the most you can do."

"Just tell me if this one of your Machiavellian-type pranks."

"It's nothing of the sort, and I'm hurt you would think of me in such a manner" Travis said while pouting.

"................"

"Ok ok, it will also be entertaining, difficult and will make or break our war against the Order"

"Just like that, entertaining and make or break?"

"Just like that."

"................. You'd better make sure it doesn't break then."

"I have every intention of ensuring it 'makes', I promise you. "

"Alright then" Malko said as he turned and heaved a breath of relief. He then thought of something and started saying as he turned back again, "So which stadium are you going to..........." But Travis was gone.

Anybody passing VIP room 07 at that point would have a heard a muffled noise. Anyone who knew of the Malko's abilities would know that the soundproofing had been done very well to reduce the noise to that level. As a red-faced director exited the room shortly after, he took out a sticker and slapped it onto the door before he walked away hurriedly.

------------------

In case there's any confusion regarding who 'Jester' is, its Travis' code name.

Sorry, conflicts coming up in the next few chapters.