Battle Planet: The Champion of Earth Read online

  Battle Planet

  The Champion of Earth

  The following novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story have been invented by the author’s imagination and are not intended to represent anything in the real world.

  First copy published by Kindle Direct Publishing in 2019.

  Battle Planet: The Champion of Earth

  Copyright © 2019 by Andrew Gates

  Written by Andrew Gates

  Cover Art by Justin Davis

  All rights reserved

  Battle Planet

  The Champion of Earth

  By Andrew Gates

  Table of Contents

  Chapters

  Night in the Walled City

  The Old Man on Uke Island

  An Assembly of Strangers

  Missing Persons

  The First Victor

  Words of Emotion

  The Queen and the Serpent

  A Demon of Shadow

  Sleep Amidst Chaos

  Into the Battle Arena

  Friedrich the Victor

  Within the Queen’s Quarters

  Eyes of Despair

  The Parting of Itzel

  Valhalla, I am Coming

  Battle Behind Her

  The Victors

  Ostalgie

  Dawn of the Second Day

  The Anthem of War

  Talk of Humans and Sorrens

  Alone

  Afternoon at Potsdamer Platz

  Into the Maze

  Outsmarted

  The Champion of Earth

  This story was inspired by the wild and crazy world of comic books. Comics like Marvel’s Secret Wars were a huge influence on Battle Planet. I hope to capture some of that exciting magic in the story you are about to read. I hope you enjoy what I have created here in Battle Planet: The Champion of Earth.

  Battle Planet

  The Champion of Earth

  Chapter One

  Night in the Walled City

  Subject: Janice Milani, Female

  Gregorian Calendar Year: 1988

  Location: Kreuzberg, West Berlin, Earth

  Jan kicked a Coca Cola can across the sidewalk as she casually passed the dilapidated buildings on her right. The blaring music of Falco’s Der Kommissar blasted through the open windows. She turned her head away from the buildings, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. The buildings to her right might have been condemned, but Jan knew they were anything but abandoned. Even looking the other way, she could see the glimmer of flashing blue and red lights emanating from inside and heard the shouts of drunken party-goers over Falco’s anti-authority lyrics.

  Das ist Berlin, she thought with an exhale. None of this was unusual. She was in Kreuzberg after all. Everyone in Berlin knew that in Kreuzberg, squatting was as common as breathing. And these squatters were not necessarily the poor or needy. These were the anti-establishment youths taking advantage of their right to do something rebellious and liberating. Squatting, for lack of a better term, had become “cool”. In a lot of cases it was so prevalent that the authorities didn’t even care. It had almost become an unwritten rule to allow it.

  That was just the way here. If someone lived in Kreuzberg and paid rent, they were doing it seriously wrong.

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way, obviously. This neighborhood was supposed to be flattened and redeveloped. Out with the old, in with the new. That was the message the city delivered when it came time to tear it all down. No one wanted to live in this former industrial area to begin with and Jan couldn’t say she was surprised. With a neighborhood walled in by communists all on sides but one, she wouldn’t want to live here either.

  At least… not pay to live here.

  Jan took a few more steps forward, then rounded the corner at the next block. A Turkish vendor stood in his stall ahead, selling kebabs beneath a spray-painted sign that read X-Berg Kabab in red paint. Jan wasn’t hungry, but she figured she could use some caffeine to keep her awake. She walked to the vendor and waved to the man inside, a Turkish man in his mid-40s with a thick moustache and grease-stained red shirt.

  “Was haben Sie zu trinken?” Jan asked, scanning to see if she could spot any soda in the stall window. She couldn’t see any drinks, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t selling any.

  “Zu trinken?” the man repeated, speaking up over the noise of nearby partiers. “Uh… Bier, Mineralwasser, Cola-”

  “Ein Cola, bitte,” Jan said, interrupting the man before he could list anything else.

  The man nodded and pulled out a glass bottle of Coca Cola from a cooler by his feet. He popped off the cap and set it down on the counter. Jan handed the man the proper amount of D-Marks, then took the cold glass bottle with her. No one said another word.

  It was a cool night. The temperate outside was an ideal 73 Fahrenheit according to the paper, or 22 Celsius as they called it here. Typical fall weather. But despite the nice weather, Jan loved how cold the drink in her hands felt as she sipped it down. Germans were notorious for not cooling their drinks the way she was used to back home. Once in a while, it was good just to have something familiar.

  Hopefully this soda will do something to cure my buzz, she thought as she continued down the next few blocks. She took another sip and held the bottle by her side.

  Despite the late hour, the streets were not empty. Far from it. On a Saturday like this, Jan knew that Berlin would not sleep until the sun came up. She was glad to see all the people though. People out meant the world was a whole lot safer. There were scumbags in every country, but no one wanted to try something stupid when there were witnesses around.

  Jan looked up as she passed another block. The wall was visible down the road with watch towers positioned along it here and there. The sight of it made her shiver, but she could not help but stare at it anyway and wonder what was on the other side.

  We party over here. And to think beyond that wall, the city sleeps, she thought.

  Not watching where she was going, Jan suddenly bumped into someone. She spilled some of her Coke, but managed to save most of it.

  “Oh, sorry! Entschuldigung!” Jan said, facing the person she had bumped into.

  A man turned around. He was a young man, though maybe a few years older than she was. He had light blond hair and wore a thick grey jacket that was clearly meant for colder weather than this. He held a bottle of half-drunken beer in his hand.

  “Amerikaner!” the man proclaimed upon hearing her accent. His eyes opened wide in excitement. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, practicing his English with slurred words.

  “Sorry for walking into you,” Jan replied. She waved to him, then walked away.

  “I am not sorry for this,” the man said, stepping in line with her. He began to follow her with every step. “Because you walked into me, I am now talking to a beautiful woman!”

  Jan rolled her eyes. Another drunk guy following me around. Why did I have to say anything at all? She let out a huff of frustration and scanned the streets again. There were still a lot of people out. That much was good. This guy could be annoying all he wanted, but if he tried anything, there would be people to see it.

  “Where are you from?” the man asked, still following along. He tried to reach out to touch Jan’s long brown hair, but she pushed his hand away. Fortunately, he didn’t try again.

  “You already figured it out. You called me Amerikaner,” she said, not bothering to look at him as she moved along.

  “Yes, but the USA is so big! Where in the USA? Are you from New York? California? Florida?”

  “One of those places,” she replied, still not looking his way.


  “I see. You do not want to tell me. That is fine,” the man said, still moving along. When Jan did not respond, he continued. “The Amis colonized us, you know? That’s why so many Americans are here. That’s what they say. Is that why you are here? Are you part of the military?”

  “Do I look like I’m in the military?”

  “No, but you could be someone’s daughter or wife.”

  “I’m nobody’s wife.”

  “I see.”

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “I have no ideas. I am just talking,” the man continued. “But if you are not with the military, what makes you come to Berlin? Are you tourist?” he asked.

  “No, not a tourist,” Jan said.

  “Well tell me something!”

  “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

  “Fine. You do not want to talk to me, then I go!” the man said with a frustrated huff. He threw his hands in the air and, to Jan’s relief, peeled away from her.

  Thank god, she thought to herself. She glanced back only to find that he was already walking toward some other woman now. She wished her luck, then continued along to the Hallesches Tor U-Bahn station.

  Walking down into the train station, the echoing noise of Sweet Dreams Are Made of This by the Eurythmics filled her ears. Jan instinctively matched the steps of her boots to the beat of the music as her leather jacket and brown hair rose and fell with each descent down the stairs. She felt like part of a video on MTV.

  Once she found her train’s track, she found the source of the music: a group of five punk rockers in leather jackets with slick, colorful hair done in mohawks smoking and drinking around a boombox. Jan turned away from them and ignored the smell of piss and beer that came with the U-Bahn stations at this time of night. She took another swig of her soda, hoping again that the caffeine would help keep her up long enough to make the x number of stops back to Steglitz.

  She closed her eyes and reflected on the night as she let out a deep breath.

  When her friend Corolla had first invited her out to a party in Kreuzberg, Jan did not think she would stay out so late. She knew it was Berlin, but still, there were some things she just couldn’t adapt to. Staying up until the sun peered from behind the Fernsehturm was one of them.

  Still, the party was fun. Jan did not regret going, at least for the first few hours. With so much oppression beyond the wall, West Berliners knew how to make full use of their freedom here and they did it with style and enthusiasm. Beer, music, smoking and no short supply of Jägermeister.

  In short, West Berlin knew how to party.

  Jan came from a very different world. Her suburban northern California hometown had fewer people than could fill all the condemned homes of Kreuzberg. Life was slower there, calmer and far less exciting. She knew she would have to go back to it eventually, but for now, she loved being part of something so different, so foreign.

  Nowhere else in the world embodied the Cold War conflict so clearly. Berlin in the 1980s was the epicenter of everything that happened not just in Germany, but globally. The Amis colonized us, she remembered the drunk man say. At times it certainly seemed that way. She took another glance at the Coca Cola bottle in her hands. The United States practically controlled West Berlin. The East… well, that was a different story. If reports were to be believed, Russia squeezed it like an ever-tightening vice. There were rumors circulating that the wall would one day come down, but Jan had heard those rumors since before leaving California. As far as she was concerned, she would only believe it when she saw it.

  The Eurythmics song ended now and the punk rockers cheered. One even smashed a glass down onto the train track. It shattered to pieces, sending shards across the tracks. The excitement forced Jan to open her eyes again and take note of what was happening. The punk rockers didn’t pay her any mind though. They were too focused on their own partying. The entire scene was chaotic and yet somehow a beautiful image of liberation. In a way, it was like a form of controlled anarchy.

  She quickly checked her watch, curious to know how late it really was. When she checked, she was surprised to see the small hand not yet halfway to 02:00. She was surprised. She thought it was much later.

  The lights of her train lit up the tunnel now and the train began to pull in just as 99 Luftballons by Nena began to play on the boombox. Now there’s a song that perfectly represents Berlin if I ever heard one, Jan thought, reflecting on the song’s lyrics that depicted harmless balloons flying past the wall into the east only to be shot down by the communists, who retaliate with war.

  It was extreme, yes. It was ridiculous, yes. But that was Berlin. To the people who lived here, extreme and ridiculous were just a part of life.

  The train stopped in the station now. Jan waited as the doors opened and passengers filed out. She entered the yellow car and found a seat in the corner. She sat by herself and studied the map posted on the wall, making sure she knew her way to the Bln Steglitz station from here.

  The ride was long, but peaceful. No one paid her any mind. She welcomed the silence. She turned to face the window as the train rolled across the tracks. There was nothing to see underground, but that didn’t matter. Jan just tried to imagine that they were traveling on the surface, passing by building after building. The city was massive and to think, this was only half of it. Another half existed beyond the wall, another vast urban sprawl.

  If that wall ever comes down, I’d be able to ride this train for hours and not even leave the city, she thought. It was practically true now, even with the wall.

  After a few stops, Jan made her transfer to the S-Bahn. That train came almost immediately. This one was even less crowded than the last and she had practically the entire car to herself. Now with an above-ground view outside, she gazed at the sights around her, the buildings and bridges coated in graffiti, the partyers leaning outside their windows.

  It was not long until she finally arrived at her stop. Relieved that she had managed to stay awake this long, Jan collected her soda, took one final sip, then pressed the button to exit the train. She sighed, then stepped out onto the platform.

  Now outside, the scent of currywurst emanated through the air. She smiled at the smell. Even though she didn’t have an appetite before the train ride, she was starting to feel hungry. Perhaps she could use one last bite to eat before heading to bed.

  Jan had a good view from atop the platform. From here she could see up and down the streets and could easily make out the east’s Fernsehturm looming in the distance beyond the wall, pointing straight up into the sky like a spear. This was the tallest structure in all of Germany and could be seen from far and wide, an obvious attempt by the communists to prove their superiority. But the response in the west was not one of admiration like the east had hoped. Instead, the west mocked it. Here the structure was known as the Telespargel or TV Asparagus. Jan chuckled at the thought. She had to admit, it did look like an asparagus.

  Putting that thought out of mind, Jan refocused on trying to find the source of the delicious smell. She looked left and right across the platform, then down at the street below, wondering where the smell was coming from. She did not recall a currywurst vender located here before. Perhaps the vendor is new. That or I never noticed it before. As she continued to look around, it occurred to Jan that she was the only one on the platform.

  Being alone on the platform was odd, but certainly not out of the realm of possibility. Bln Steglitz was hardly a popular stop this time of night. This was a quiet neighborhood, not a place for clubbing. Her friends teased her for living so far out from Mitte, the city center, but Jan liked living here. It allowed her the peace and quiet that reminded her of her California home and, to make things better, it was close to the Freie Universität where she went to school.

  But still, she was alone. She could not help but start to feel a bit uneasy.

  Maybe I should just go home. I’ll skip the currywurst tonight, she thought.

  She took a step forward, b
ut her right foot felt numb and tingly, as if the blood circulation had been cut off. She looked down at her boot in curiosity and felt herself gasp as she beheld the sight of her body falling forward while her boots remained stuck to the platform as if they had been glued in place. She quickly reached out her hands to stabilize herself, but continued to fall right through her clothing, which dropped down as if she were a ghost phasing right through it.

  What the hell is going on? Jan panicked. She could not have been this drunk. This shouldn’t have been happening. This couldn’t have been happening.

  “Hilfe!” (Help!) she shouted as she tumbled forward, but the sound faded away before it could even escape her mouth.

  The world grew suddenly bright white around her. Sound disappeared entirely. Her body felt tingly all over as she phased into nothingness. Just as she was about to faceplant right into the platform, the world faded away altogether.

  A moment passed… or it felt like a moment. It could have been longer. Jan was not so sure. All she knew was that she was conscious and had some sense of what was going on.

  White. Pure white. That was all Jan could see. She tried to move her body, but realized she did not have a body at all. She could not look around, not choose to open or close her eyes, not even breathe. It was as if she did not even exist.

  And then…

  “Hilfe!” her shout completed itself as she returned to her body.

  Jan suddenly found herself in a cold dark room with straw spread out across the dirt floor. A small orange-hewed ceiling light provided only sparse illumination, but it was enough to allow her to see. The space was not too large. From end to end it must have been about 20 feet long. On the opposite side of the room stood a wall made of thick rusted metal with bars on the top quarter like something out of a prison cell. The ceiling hung low and was made of the same metal. The entire room stunk like a horse pen.