I'm Allergic to Death

Seventy-seven. That's how many idiots are vying for the "honored" position of climbing the sacrificial ladder to god knows where.

Correction. Seventy-six. I'm not an idiot.

Call me a party pooper if you want, but I'm allergic to death. So, I'm a little less than whole-hearted about the contest. Although Alora continually reminds me that there is no Ladder God, it's just a ship using a chameleon shield to look like a storm cloud. "Well, at least," she says, "There's a ninety-five percent chance it's a ship." Crazy androids and their stupid percentages.

Right now, there is a hundred percent chance numbskulls surround me. These guys actually want to climb a ladder that supposedly leads to their god.

And here comes one of the reasons they want to climb. Good old Bob the Shaman. He stands in front of the Righteous Tree and strikes a rock three times with his staff.

"You are the honored hopefuls—seventy-seven of the most holy men in our city. However, by the end of this day, there will only be forty-four. The holiest of the holy."

I rolled my eyes. All you have to do is tell a man how important he is, and he'll die for your cause. No matter what planet you're on, some things never change.

Bob continued, "The Ladder Book of Mostly Easy Rules says that the Great Ritual will weed out thirty-three hopefuls. You must do your best if you want to advance."

"Don't worry, Bob. You can count on me," I sarcastically said under my breath. A hopeful turned around and shushed me.

Bob jabbered on, explaining the Great Ritual. Basically, he said that a hopeful must demonstrate good balance.

I figure that's because no one wants to see a sacrifice falling to his death before it's his time to die. I can picture it now. The crowd watches the sacrifice ascend the ladder. They hold their breath as he almost reaches the cloud. Then, suddenly, the sacrifice misses a rung and slides down several feet. He catches another rung, but unfortunately, his feet get tangled and he flips upside down like a kid on monkey bars. Because of his clumsy nature, he propels further down the ladder headfirst until he strikes the ground.

Bob continued explaining that we must demonstrate balance by successfully navigating a gauntlet of ropes, pulleys, swinging logs, balancing beams, and spring-loaded traps. Grinfo told me very few make it all the way through. Most hopefuls go to the next round by making it halfway.

Bob gave us three hours to study the gauntlet and mentally prepare. Alora and Grinfo found me and offered advice.

"I've seen hundreds of hopefuls tackle the gauntlet," Grinfo said. "I know the best paths - of course, they still require balance. Are you balanced?"

That is a good question, I thought to myself, but I'm sure that's not what Grinfo meant. "I am, but don't worry about me. I've got my own path." Yeah, I said with my inside voice, a plan that involves two steps and a fall.

"There's something special about you, besides being able to pronounce the Shaman's impossible-to-pronounce name, but you should not take the gauntlet lightly."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, Grinfo, but like I said before, don't worry about me, I know what I'm doing."

Alora shot me a suspicious glance. She could see right through me. She pulled me aside out of earshot.

"You know this is the best way for us to get up that ladder. All you have to do is win, grab the dylanium, wait for dark, and we're out of here. We'll be back home in a couple of days."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I'll win." I tried to exude confidence.

"Are you really going to try?"

"You really are insufferable. You know that?" I went to "study" the gauntlet to add credibility to my lie.

While studying, I noticed Alora and Grinfo engaged in a spirited conversation. He kept pointing to a tree limb, and Alora kept nodding. I couldn't see what they were looking at, but before I could get a closer look, drums sounded, calling the hopefuls to assemble.

"The priests will line you up," Bob said. "When it's your turn, make your way through the gauntlet as far as you can without getting knocked off. The top forty-four will advance to the next round."

I tried to position myself at the beginning of the line, but the priest kept pushing me back. I just wanted to flunk this ritual quickly and take a nap, but instead, I ended up at the very end.

One after another fell. The gauntlet spat out hopefuls like a man spitting watermelon seeds in a watermelon-seed-spitting contest. A few made it to the halfway mark. No one made it to the end. After over an hour of watching idiots get thrown by the gauntlet, it was finally my turn.

I approached the contraption like a bull rider approaches a bull, except I have no plan to ride long. My only concern is how painful it will be. I stepped up to the starting line, looking for the best place to fall, when Alora shouted to me.

"Hey, do you see this?" She held a football-sized mound of dirt that looked a lot like a beehive. "These flying insects are similar to bees on Earth, except they can sting more than once." She raised it above her head, shook it around, and threw it at my feet.

Two thoughts went through my head at once. The first, now I know what Grinfo and Alora were pointing to in the tree limb. The second, Oh my Lord in heaven, what did that crazy android do now?

I took off like Usain Bolt, dodging logs, jumping ropes, tiptoeing across beams, swinging from rope to rope, until I made it through the entire gauntlet. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, but I barely heard them, because I never stopped running. I spotted a pond nearby and jumped in. The bee-like bugs flew around for a while, finally losing interest just before I ran out of breath.

I refused to talk with Alora after that, at least until after the celebration. Bob and several priests fished me out of the pond and paraded me around the temple, chanting, "Sacrifice! Sacrifice!" like I'd just won the Daytona 500.

That night, I had a friendly chat with Alora about trying to kill her captain. She was unfazed.

"I had to motivate you. You need to win if we want to go home. The longer we stay, the more dangerous it becomes. Do you know what will happen to me if the locals find out I'm an android?"

She had a point. We need to leave. But I told her under no circumstances is she allowed to throw any more stinging bugs for the remainder of our stay on this crazy planet.