Chapter 1

As Jeynna walked into her room, she felt something was not right in her sanctuary; her place for meditation, practice and preparation. Jeynna looked around, trying to remember why she was here. Her head started spinning, the room was spinning, and the floor was rushing up to meet her. The last thing going through Jeynna's mind was "I hope the floor is insured because this is going to leave a mark!"

She woke to a dry metallic taste in her mouth, and a room unfamiliar to her. Looking around, there was only white. No doors, no windows, light coming from above but she could not see the source. It was quiet, too quiet. Her clothes were gone, replaced with a kind of jumpsuit; skintight, and without any openings or zippers, even her hands and feet were covered by this stretchy fabric. Jeynna knew what spandex and Lycra were, but this was somehow different. As she stood, she realized she was on the floor, and not a bed. It was soft and cushiony, like padding, or foam rubber.

At the beginning of the games fifty years ago, there were many power struggles for such things as the rights of broadcasting, whose clothes would be worn, which shoes, what food. The list goes on and on, even to this day. In a normal free enterprise society, these things were considered normal. The power struggles, the positioning, the contracts, the lawyers, the suing. Some people lived for the struggle, Jeynna lived for the games.

Jeynna was taller than most people, men included. At nearly seven feet tall, she stood head and shoulders above almost everyone she met. She prided herself that people looked up to her, not because of her height, but the respect she earned and deserved.

Her great height might have made her a pro basketball star, or a track and field long jump or high jump elite athlete. She chose a different path. She loved sword fighting. Her skills with a blade were known around the world. She remains to this day undefeated in the three events she helped create.

The first event, classic sword fighting, was her favorite. Her natural athleticism and her great strength gave Jeynna advantages over most of the males she sparred with. The sweat would roll off her body as she spun and parried, swinging her sword with the grace of a ballet dancer and the lethalness of an assassin. Her cries of joy at scoring another victory could be heard across the game field.

The second event she helped develop was actually a game her sword master taught to her for training. Blindfolded, the swordfighter must work their way through a maze of objects, cutting only those designated by the color chosen by the contestant. These objects were always in the same place and height every time. The challenge was, even though blindfolded, to only cut the ones designated. Deviation through missing a cut, cutting another one not chosen, or leaving the maze with any of your chosen color uncut would garnish deductions.

The third event, a favorite of anyone liking fighting, was freestyle fighting. Similar to the first event in that it uses swords, the similarities ended there. Any sword could be used, even two handed great swords were allowed. Think of these like bringing a bazooka to a gunfight. Jeynna's favorite weapon in this event was the katana. Sleek, slightly curved, but solid as a rock, her katana was to be feared. The grace and deadly accuracy of her sword fighting skills were most evident here.

Standing up was painful, her head pounded and her teeth even ached!

"How is this possible?" She was thinking. Staggering a little, she reached out to the wall for support, and found the walls were made of the same material as the floor. Now she realized she was in a soundproof room, like what they put insane people in years ago. This kind of treatment was almost never used unless in dire needs for the safety of the patient. Patient? Was she a patient? How could she be? She was scheduled to compete today at the sword fighting event.

Her head reeled as she walked the perimeter of the room, pushing and feeling everywhere she could for an opening or an access. There weren't even any ventilation ducts. Giving up for the moment, she sat down and tried to clear her head enough to remember where she was and why she was here. Even after twenty minutes, she could only get one answer, she wasn't home.

There was nothing she could remember of the events that brought her here, or where here was. She tried calling out a few times, but felt silly. She was a warrior, not a frail little girl. But frail and little was what she was feeling at the moment.

Still feeling the effects of whatever knocked her out, she decided to close her eyes for a minute, and woke up many hours later. She knew that by the crick in her neck, and the numbness in her left arm, the side she favored sleeping on.

She woke to a woman standing in front of her, smiling politely, and holding out a small leaflet of papers, all with Jeynna's name on them. Taking them, Jeynna asked her where she came from. The woman pointed to the top of the first page, and Jeynna began to read.

It seems that she was being charged with a double homicide of two of the contestants she was going to fight today, if today was even today. She kept reading, shocked that whoever imprisoned her here was even insane enough to think she had anything to do with two murders. Forgetting that the woman was standing there, she looked up to apologize, but she was gone. Jeynna never even heard her leave.

Now she was furious! Screaming at the top of her lungs, kicking and punching every inch of floor and wall she could touch, she desperately needed to get out, but still found no openings. Slumping to the floor, she quietly cried, tears clouding her vision, and sleep took her once more as she cried into slumber.

Jeynna woke with a need to relieve herself, and found no where to go. She called out to her captors, hoping someone would hear her need to go. A voice from above called to her and explained the unique garment she was wearing. It seems that all bodily functions, including bowel movements, were handled by the suit. This is why she hasn't had the urge to relieve herself until now. The suit was turned off to rouse her from her sleep, and now that she was awake, it was again turned on, and she felt instant relief, yet she did nothing. Feeling down there, all she felt was the suit, and the outline of her body. No tubes, nozzles, openings, or discharges, and yet, she didn't need to go, it was already gone.

It was further explained that she was being held here as a prisoner until her trial because she was a superstar, and as such, would be exposed to many people who would love to harm her in her incarceration. It was solitary confinement, true, but the best that money could buy.

Jeynna asked about a lawyer, and found that she could indeed talk to one as soon as the warden would approve it. Until then, she was to remain calm or she would be sedated again. Jeynna agreed to behave, and asked for any documentation that would explain her coming to this place as well as anything about her case that she could see.

The documents would be delivered within the hour a different, dry raspy voice replied, and then there was silence again.

Jeynna did not see how, but there was the little box with everything she asked for. One minute nothing, and the next, the box. Being used to things just appearing, she started going through the box, and found her arrest papers. Reading through the statements of the officers, Jeynna saw that she was found unconscious in a public park, just minutes from her apartment. Covered in blood, her hands were grasping her katana, and beside her, the bodies of two of her opponents, the ones she was due to fight that day. Leafing through the papers and finding the coroner reports, she read that both of the dead men were cut to pieces after they were killed, the death blow coming from being stabbed in the heart by her katana. Jeynna was livid, knowing she would never do something like this, but had ho proof as to her innocence. Being locked in this padded cell was no help either. She had no idea what hour it was, or even what day. How was she going to get free and get her katana back, so she could hack apart the real killer? The idea came to her in an instant.

Settling down to sleep again, she laid with her back into the wall, with her feet touching a corner. Letting her hair cover her eyes a little, shielding her eyes from anyone watching her, she hoped to see how they were getting in and out of her cell. After an hour of steady breathing, nearly falling asleep anyway, looking through the mere slits of her eyelids, she saw what she was looking for. A doorway opened in the wall directly opposite where she was laying, right along the seams of the padding, perfectly hidden to the untrained eye. The same woman who brought her the first paperwork was carrying a tray with her meal on it. Jeynna jumped up, pushed the woman aside and leapt through the doorway, doveing into the hallway while simultaneously pulling the door closed behind her in one smooth move. Landing on her feet like a cat, she started off running, not knowing where she was running to, just glad to be running anywhere.

Turning a corner, running blindly, she ran right into a man, but not just any man, this one was special. He was Mr. Ultimate! Her friend, her sparring partner, her one time lover, and the one man she really needed to be on her side.

Reaching down and offering his hand to help her up, Mr. Ultimate, Blake Johnson, pulled her up to her feet with ease. Smiling, he said, "Funny meeting you here, Jeynna! I just saw you in Hawaii, on the beach, sparring with your trainer on TV. The cable show said it was live footage. So why are you here?"

Not wanting to tell him that she just escaped a padded solitary confinement cell, she told him the first thing that came to mind. "You know how the cable news programs are, saying it is live, but playing footage from days or even weeks ago, edited for TV and all."

His mood lightened, and he smiled again asking if she was hungry.

"No thanks, big guy!" She said, explaining that she was late for an appointment uptown, and needed to run.

"Uptown where?" he said, perplexed. We are in the middle of the desert in Nevada, two hours from Las Vegas, in an underground facility. "Why exactly are you here, Jeynna?" He said in a very commanding voice, crossing his arms and glaring up at her, slightly up, but up nonetheless.

Jeynna broke down at once, spilling out the edited details of her plight and what she was being accused of, how she escaped, and even where she thought she was heading. Keeping out the fancy details like the bodysuit she was wearing, which was quite comfortable she thought, or who she left in the cell in her place.

Blake took her arm in his hand, and escorted her to the exit he was heading to before Jeynna ran into him, and they walked into the heat of the parking lot, and freedom. But freedom has its price.

Driving into Las Vegas at night was a new experience for Jeynna. Driving through the mountains and coming over that last rise in the road, being able to see the whole strip as one big flashy lightshow was awe inspiring to say the least. It looked so close she thought, although the trip took another 35 minutes to get to Las Vegas Boulevard. Jeynna was worried that they would easily be found here in one of the big hotels, but Blake reassured her by telling her about casino security.

Blake explained that no law enforcement agency, from local police to FBI can come onto the casino property without permission, and without good cause. "Since you are not a fugitive, and are not in the papers or on the news as an escaped convict, you are safe." He said. Everything would be paid for with cash, and there would be no way they could be traced. As good a place as any to get her bearings and figure out who had her locked up and what if anything she was truly guilty of.

Checking into his usual suite at the Mirage, they went up to his room together. Jeynna immediately went to shower and get out of the body suit she had been wearing for 5 days now. She found that out by looking at the newspaper waiting for them in the suite. Pulling at her bodysuit in everyway she could think of did not get it anywhere near off of her. The suit flowed with her every pulling effort, moving to take up any slack as well. She was stuck, and had no way out of the suit.

Walking back into the bedroom area, she looked for Blake, who was sitting in the lounge area of their suite, reading the newspaper she just looked at. Looking up and smiling, he asked, "Finished already?"

"No!", Jeynna said in a frowning face, "I can't take this stupid suit off!"

Blake chuckled in his deep voice and explained that this was a suit worn by all the warriors in his group. It was designed for extended wear, for up to five months, and did not need to come off. He stood and pulled up his shirt to reveal his as well. He went on to explain she could even shower in it, and the fabric would get cleaned as well. There was only one thing that could take the suit off, and that was an electronic key. He did not have one, and to get one, they would have to go back to the underground facility.

So, off to the shower she went, and spent over an hour under the hot water, just relaxing and easing away the tensions of the past five days. Finally emerging, Jeynna felt very relaxed and very clean, cleaner than she ever felt before. Curious, but satisfied for now, she put that thought away in the back of her head, willing to wait until a better time to ask about the suit.

She walked right up to Blake, who was snoozing, and gave him a little shake. "Hungry big guy?" she said with a smile. He smiled back and said he was ready to eat a horse. She smiled and giggled inside, silently praying no horses would be near them.

Emerging on the ground floor of the casino, Jeynna was immersed in a loud, bright atmosphere of fun. It was truly exciting to her, never having been in a casino before. She had experienced those riverboat casinos, small, low ceilinged (she routinely had to duck to walk through them), and full of smoke! This was different. Big, very big, with high ceilings and no smell of smoke unless you were standing next to someone who was smoking. Blake offered her his arm, and they walked through the casino towards the back, getting stares and looks from almost everyone. They were both used to the attention, being superstars and all, but they did not expect the invitation from a little man looking very professional and tailored.

The man explained they were to go to the penthouse for dinner as guests of the owner. Looking at each other, they nodded and smiled, then Blake turned to the man and said "Lead on!"

The man wove an intricate path through the casino floor, walking as if he had radar or something, because he kept looking back at Jeynna and Blake, but never ran into a single person, slot machine, or gaming table. Finally reaching the special elevator for the penthouse, he stepped aside and motioned for Jeynna and Blake to enter. Reaching inside, he slid his pass card through the slot and the elevator dinged. The man bowed slightly and wished them a pleasant dinner. The door closed, and they were whisked to the top of the casino, where at the end of their elevator trip, the doors parted onto a beautiful suite with windows all around. The whole Las Vegas Strip could be seen from these windows. The night was fully dark without even the moon, and the lights, signs and motion displays were in full effect.

"It's beautiful, Blake!" Jeynna said as she scanned the street below.

"Yes, it is beautiful, my dear." said an unfamiliar voice. They both turned at once, and Jeynna and Blake gasped at the same time. They said in unison, "You're dead!"

"Of course I am!" smiling through perfect teeth. "I have been dead for many years, but I live here in my casino, in this suite, without anyone knowing who I really am."

Blake looked at Jeynna, and back at the other man, and then asked "So who are you now, Mr. Encore, or should I call you Maximus Payne?"

"I am neither of those men now, and I will caution you to never use either of those names again! I am now simply Mr. Fixit."

"Mr. Fixit? Is that the best you can do?" Jeynna said. "What happened to you and why are we here?"

"I believe the best conversations can be had over dinner" Mr. Fixit said, and he walked towards the back of the suite, and into the dining area. A huge table was there, laid out in banquet style, with everything anyone could want. Fruit and vegetables, dipping sauces, deli meats and premade sandwiches, and as they walked towards the three seats at the end of the table, hot foods like Italian beef and sausage, pasta dishes and sauces, and a carving station for roast beef, ham, and turkey.

They each took a plate, and filled it with whatever they wanted, taking their seats and beginning the meal and hopefully a fruitful conversation. They were not let down on either front.

The food was all gourmet tasting and fresh. The meal was great, fit for a king, even if he is the dead king of Las Vegas.

As they dined, Mr. Fixit told them of why he had himself killed, how there were even more powerful people than him who wanted him dead for real, but that in the end, he found a compromise that would work for all concerned.

Jeynna tried to ask who that person or people were, but Mr. Fixit just side stepped the question and continued talking as if she hadn't even asked.

For now, all was good, and he was on another job for his employers. He looked first at Jeynna, and then at Blake, then said "You are my next job." He went on to explain, much to the dislike of Jeynna and Blake, how he was supposed to kill them and get them out of the picture.

"What picture?" Blake asked, clearly upset at the news.

"Why the new games happening this fall, the Blade Dancer games." Said Mr. Fixit, "You two are the only thing stopping the people who graciously let me live from taking over the whole show, and making billions of dollars in profit."

"But that's my show!" exclaimed Jeynna "I worked three years to get that show off the ground, and now when it is supposed to go on the air, I am to be killed?"

"No, not killed, disgraced." Mr. Fixit said in a deadpan voice. "You are to be accused of murder with the very weapon you have won so many fights with, Jeynna. Your friend, Blake, would have been one of the two men you killed. The other man was going to be a visiting athlete from another country. He would have been chosen to make the most of a bad situation worse. I believe you know him, Jeynna, Haryugushi."

Jeynna jumped up abruptly, diving over the table to throttle the life out of Mr. Fixit. Just in time, Blake grabbed her ankle, and stopped her in mid flight, causing her to land across a very large bowl of strawberries and cream, smearing them all over her. Kicking wildly, and screaming to have Blake release her ankle, Blake finally got her to settle down enough to crawl off the table and stand by her seat.

"Why my sensei, Mr. Fixit? Why him?" Jeynna said with tears of rage in her eyes. "He is the most peaceful and caring man I have ever known!"

"It was for the disgrace, my dear. His murder by your hands would have proven you insane, and destroyed you forever." Mr. Fixit went on to explain that the lawyers would have had power of attorney, and given the company right into the hands of the people holding him captive here. You are too valuable, and your death would simply transfer the show and it's billions into your beneficiaries, your loyal fans. 3000 people would become instant millionaires. My jailors can not allow this to happen, so they instructed me to intervene, and make this happen.

"How could you kill him?" Jeynna screamed as her rage returned.

"Hold on, don't you see, all of this was put into motion to protect you." Mr. Fixit said reassuringly, "No one is dead, and I can not stall this forever."

"Stall, what do you mean by stall?" Blake said, "I thought this was our last meal before execution!"

"Of course not, Blake, why do you think you two are here?" Mr. Fixit said with a grin on his face. "Answer honestly, and you will be rewarded!"

"I thought that we were going to be killed by you!" Jeynna said, with Blake nodding in agreement.

"Well, you will be glad to hear that you will not die yet!" Mr. Fixit said, going on to explain that in this town he was still king, and although he had a job to do, he could do it as he saw fit. Both Blake and Jeynna were spared from death and disgrace so that Mr. Fixit could make a grand wager, his life in exchange for their combined victory. It all hinged on finding the real killers before this dastardly plan happens. If they succeeded, he would die again, not for real, but in the way that he wanted and finally be released from service. Their victory would expose the men behind the takeover of Jeynna's show and forever push these men into the public spotlight while dismantling the empire they built out of greed, murder, and domination over everyone who stood in their way. Or if they failed, and the plan went as originally scripted, he would continue being their Mr. Fixit, and be forced to carry out the disgrace plan personally. "I am rooting for the both of you. I will give you all the help I can. Remember that you are my last hope for freedom, and I am yours as well. Together, we can take down the whole lot of them!"

Both Blake and Jeynna looked at each other for a moment, and Blake nodded to Jeynna. Jeynna turned to Mr. Fixit and said, "We accept your terms, when do we start?"

"Right now, my dear" Mr. Fixit said, pressing a button under the table. A door slid open where there was none before, with an empty room beyond. "Walk through that door, and start your trial by fire!" Mr. Fixit said.

Blake said laughingly, "At least our bodysuits are fireproof!"