Eden's story begins here!
001
A heavy steel fist hammered against her guard. Her arms were beaten and bruised but still she kept them up. An assault of punches rained down on her. Much more and she feared he would break her bones. And her arms were getting heavier. She had to keep them up. Until she had a chance, a moment, an opportunity. Another hit came and she stepped back as the steel-clad fist grazed her skin. Her opponent was not done. He struck again, reaching further as she backed up. His long arm, encased in steel and segmented by a metal joint, extended as far he could reach until it clicked. This was her opportunity.
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She slid forward and stepped inside of his reach. Past his arm and right inside of his guard. She struck. A tight hook that came down on his jaw. A cheer sprang from the crowd.
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She followed with a body shot from her other hand, to force him to choose where to defend. Most fighters had an instinct to protect their head. He did as most do, his arm pulled back to protect his face from another hook. She threw a second body shot and heard him gasp. Her aluminium knuckles struck his solar plexus. A third shot hit his and he lowered his hands to protect his body, still reeling on the defensive.
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She was fast to adapt. Another hook came over his dropped guard and struck his jaw again. Some fighters recovered when under attack and taking heavy hits, finding a slither of a moment for a counter attack. Some walled up and bunkered down. Some lashed out and left themselves open. Few trained cy-boxers backed away or ran. He was a great boxer.
She dropped her left hand, protecting her flank, as she went for another brutal right hook. He saw his chance and seized it. Clenched steel rose with a sharp uppercut. Her plan, another trap. Dropping her left hand was bait and he had fallen for it. She knew it was coming and pivoted to barely avoid the attack. The uppercut grazed her cheek as her body stayed close to his, her feet pivoted and her body turned. She put everything she had into a left hook that rolled his head. His knees buckled. And the bell rang.
Eden returned to her corner. She spat out her gum shield, misshapen by an unexpected haymaker two rounds ago. They had fought toe-to-toe for eleven rounds and she could see he was too tired to keep up the pace she set. As she leaned back on the corner post, her coach jammed a spare gum shield into her mouth.
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“You're doing great, Eeds,” her coach said. She had never liked being called Eeds but everyone seemed to do it. “But don't get cocky. He's tired and hurting, he knows he'll lose on points. So this last round is his last chance.”
“I know, I know.” Eden spoke clumsily around her gum shield. “He's gonna get desperate, I know. That's the plan.”
“Hey, no back talk. Only think about the fight,” Coach instructed. “Think about him, watch him. See now, his coach is putting some oil into that steel ball joint. When he overextended his punch, he must have jammed the mechanism a little.”
“I'll have to play it safe while I test how well the oil worked,” Eden said.
“That's right, Eeds, spot on. If the oil helps, he'll be faster than last time to bring back his guard and that same tactic won't work. But if his arm is busted, then you bait out that right cross and punish him every time.”
The bell rang.
“Go scrap his metal!” Coach encouraged as she stepped forward, guard up.
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Both fighters stepped carefully around the middle of the ring. Each one circled the other in search of an opening. If she pushed forward she could try to hold the middle and tiring him out even more by making him move around the outside. But he was much heavier and could easily take ground.
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He stepped forward and Eden tried to challenge him, but he jabbed with his left hand to push her back, taking the centre of the ring. She had better reach than him and was faster on her feet. Which played to her advantage. She was an out-boxer and now was the time to put her speed to good use.
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Eden side-stepped to his left flank. But he lunged into her path. His body collided with her and knocked her back. He was trying to force her into a corner. She had to get out. This time she stepped to his right but he lunged forward again. Eden made a sharp pivot and dashed past his left side, escaping into the middle of the ring.
He turned around and tracked her across the ring. He swung a wild right, hoping to catch her off guard as she retreated. She slipped around it and sunk a body shot into his ribs. But his right hand was fast to return to his guard and her second punch clanged against the steel plates on his arm. Shit. His joint was working perfectly.
She stepped and danced around him. But moving was not enough. She let loose a slick punch to clash against his guard, her aluminium knuckles dented from striking his steel casing. He held his guard tight, hands protecting his face while his arms covered his ribs, and she continued to pressure him with left hand jabs that rattled his steel cladding. His enhancements encased his arms in segmented metal plates and had replaced his elbow with a mechanical joint. He was strong, durable, and powerful. She needed to find an opening.
She kept moving around the outside of the ring and throwing jabs. He was waiting for his chance to close the distance and lock her down. He had crept closer and slowly inched his way towards her. Her dance had been edged closer to the ropes as she worked the outside of the ring. She was losing space.
All or nothing, if his right arm was well oiled then she simply needed to break it even more. She leaned back onto the ropes and used them to spring her forwards. She lunged and struck out with a right cross. He took the force of her punch, with her full weight behind it, against his steel arms. It barely shook him. His right cross came, powered by a smooth metal joint. Eden took the punch against her guard and it pushed her back. Her arms had taken a beating all night. But she was ready. Eden came at him with an uppercut. Her aluminium knuckles struck his elbow with a metallic crunch. His guard was knocked a little but he held firm.
She saw the oil on her hand. It must have spurted out when she made contact. She jabbed and let her hand linger after it bounced off his guard. He threw the right cross to counter. And they both heard the metallic clunk as his arm locked out. She had busted the joint. Eden slipped past his busted arm and through his guard. She gave a tight hook that knocked his chin. And another hook before he could recover. A third hook sent him recoiling, his once strong legs now wobbled as he tried to step backwards. She used her long arms to jab at his face as he backed away.
He awkwardly struggled to make his arm bend naturally. His guard was well and truly broken. Eden stepped forward and he did not step up to meet her. He knew his defence was lost. His best chance now was to let her come close and catch her with a knockout blow.
Eden pressed forward, certain his guard was broken and his right cross counter was done. She stepped close and his left fist came around with a wide hook. His steel fist beat against her guard and she felt her tired arms fall. He saw it. His chance. He swung his left again and it struck the side of her head. She stumbled away from the devastating blow and he followed with yet another left hook. She heard her jaw crack. Her chin jolted, her vision blurred. Then the bell rang and he relented.
Her coach split the ropes and rushed into the ring to catch her before she hit the ground. A black-and-white striped referee stepped up to look her over.
“Is she conscious?” the referee asked.
Coach gently slapped her cheek.
“Stop slapping my bruises,” Eden groaned.
“Yeah, she’s conscious,” Coach answered.
The referee stepped back out of the ring and spent a moment talking to a panel of judges. The crowd watched, waiting to hear the news. After only a few moments, as Eden found her feet again, the referee returned. He took Eden’s hand and she reflexively pulled away. He grabbed her hand a second time and thrust it into the air.
“The winner of tonight's cybernetic boxing match, with a score of one-hundred and sixteen points and an advantage of four points, is Eden O’Cay,” the referee declared into his microphone. The crowd applauded. “Fighters, come together.” Eden stepped into the middle of the ring, very clearly still dazed but her eyes fixated on her opponent as he stepped towards her. “Shake hands.” He held out his left hand and she shook it. “Now go find some ice, you pair look like a bushel of blackberries.” This earned a chuckle from some of the crowd.
Coach led her out of the ring and through the stadium, back to the changing rooms. She followed him, hand on his arm as he guided her. Her eye had swelled up after the last round and was now blocking her sight. They entered the changing rooms as he sat her down on a bench. Eden pulled her head gear off and let her face plate fall into her lap. The padded layers of the head gear was supposed to protect against blunt force, absorbing the force through layers of leather. To prevent bare metal from scratching or cutting a fighter’s face, they had to wear the face plates.
“Shit, you used to be pretty,” Coach said. She smirked. “Come on now, ice that eye.”
A pair of medics came to help. They had been at the ring side the entire match, followed her back to the changing room, and now attended to her. One pressed a chunky ice pack to her face and she winced.
“What were you thinking?” Coach asked.
“I tested his right arm, the joint was slick,” she said as though that was an answer.
“So what? I didn’t ask about his right, I saw you break the joint. I’m talking about his left. Why’d you let him beat on you like that?”
“I thought I had him,” she said. “He wasn’t moving forward, he couldn’t even lift his right hand to block. I had him.”
“He had you!” Coach yelled as he slammed a locker door. The metal crash echoed through the changing room. “He had you, Eeds,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You rushed in when you thought he was weak and he beat on you. If that bell had been rung one second later you would have been down on the floor. He could have won by knockout. I told you to not get cocky.”
“I know, Coach. I do know,” she insisted. “I didn’t expect his left, I know. But I did know we were close to done and if I had let him recover then he’d have come at me heavier and meaner than before.”
“He did come at you, real heavy and damn mean.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You keep saying you know, but look at your face,” Coach said. He turned to the pair of medics. “Look at her face, that face of someone who knows? No, it’s the face of a chump who thought she had an easy ride. There are no easy rides, not in professional cy-boxing. And you thought he was weak, he was down and out. But none of these fighters or weak, they’re never down and out. They’re all fighting, same as you, with everything they can muster. You’ve fought nine and won nine, which is impressive, but you’re still new at this.”
“I know.”
“God damn it, you don’t know. When will you smarten up and listen?!” he shouted. “Damn, your ears must not be working so good after that beating and I’ve had enough for one night. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Let these two take care of you, at least listen to them, do everything they say. Recovery can be more important than the fight.”
With that, her coach grabbed his duffle back and made for the door. She had an ice block over her eyes and could not see that he had stopped just shy of the door to look back at her.
“I know,” she muttered.
He let out a sigh and walked out.