by C. S. Harte
Jonas offered an uneasy laugh.
“Xander darling, wake up and meet your new roomie,” Quip called out in a sugary voice.
A tall, blue-skinned, barrel-chested man rose from the bottom bunk bed. His arms were the width of Jonas’ legs, and his legs were the width of Jonas’ waist. “Hello!” Xander said giddily and extended his right fist for Jonas to bump.
Jonas stared at him for a moment unsure of his intentions with the fist before curling his own hand into a fist bump with Xander's. “Hey…”
“That’s sweet! I like it when roomies get along.” Quip grinned. “I’ll see both of you lovelies later!” She waved at them and left.
Jonas fixated on Xander’s blue skin having never seen someone with his condition before. “Why is your skin blue?”
“That’s a very personal question to ask someone you just met.” He bared his teeth. “Don’t ya think?”
“I didn’t mean…” Jonas took a step back.
Xander burst out laughing. “I’m just kidding, mate.” He wrapped his arms around Jonas’ neck. “I got the harden skin biomod. The proteins secreted by the nanite mesh in my skin produces a blue color when it interacts with my blood. I like it. Makes me different in this universe of 200 billion humans.”
“You're as big as a Dalric bear. Your size makes you unique.”
“Aww, thanks mate. That’s a nice thing to say.” Xander steered Jonas toward the back of the cell. “Two rules.” His voice changed to a deep, husky tone. “I get the bottom bunk because looked at me.” He spread his arms wide. “And you’re not allowed to hit on Quip. Only I can.”
Jonas shrugged. “That’s fine.” A loud and long yawn escaped his mouth. “Sorry, it’s been a long day, I could use some sleep.” He climbed onto the top bunk.
“Yeah, you look tired mate.” Xander lay on his bed which creaked as he settled into place.
It had been less than 24 sol-hours since Whisper visited Jonas, but he felt like a week had passed. His mind drifted to her, wondering where she was this very moment. I hope she’s OK. His lips curled into a smile. Of course, she’s OK. He had never met someone as fierce as Whisper. The more Quip tried to flirt with Jonas, the more he thought about Whisper and whether he would ever see her again.
Jonas felt the metal coils of the dingy mattress digging into his back. The bed was uncomfortable, but his eyes closed with little resistance as sleep pulled him away. What if all this is a dream? The next time I wake up, I could be in the executioner’s chair. Or maybe I’m already dead, and this is hell?
“People have been talking,” Xander’s loud baritone voice assaulted Jonas awake. “You’re kinda a big deal, mate.”
“You got the wrong person…” Jonas turned on his side.
“Well, you and your brother. Nolan was it?”
What about Nolan? He allowed Xander to continue talking.
“I remember reading about the story a long time ago. It’s been five years now… when the Mimics invaded Ostia Station in the Scuti Star System. Loads of people didn’t think it was true.”
“What wasn’t true?”
“That aliens would attack the Commonwealth. But I believed it. The universe is too big, you know? As big as human space is, we live in just a tiny fraction of it.”
“Yeah.” Jonas closed his eyes, eager to get back to sleep.
“I don’t blame your brother for deserting.”
Heat flushed through Jonas’ chest. He would never desert. Nolan is anything but a coward.
“I’m not sure what I would do against a horde of invading aliens myself. Especially ones that can shape shift and transform.”
“I even heard they could bring back the dead,” said a voice from a neighboring cell.
“This is a private conversation, Dave! No one was talking to you, Dave!” Xander yelled. His voice was loud enough to reverberate inside Jonas’ head.
Everyone around me is crazy. I must be crazy if I’m here…
“As I was saying…” His voice returned to a lower, but still irritating volume. “I don’t blame your brother.”
A vein twitched in Jonas’ forehead. Again, he didn’t betray the Commonwealth, didn’t betray Fleet. He wasn’t a coward.
“What I don’t understand is, why you would, Jonas? Why would you also betray the Commonwealth? Weren’t you a rising star in Fleet?”
Jonas groaned and covered his face with his pillow.
“See, that doesn’t make sense. How did two brothers in two opposite sides of human space betray Fleet at the same time? I said to my best friend at the time that this was a giant conspiracy. It’s sad that they matched me against him and had to kill him. That’s life though."
This guy is insane. I'm insane for listening to him. Jonas laughed then quickly switched to a cough. “Um, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s OK. Happens. But you know, I live for conspiracies. This one, between you and your brother, it really doesn’t add up though.”
If he only knew…
“Are you a traitor, Jonas?”
“No. But according to Fleet, I am. They sent an Entrent to wipe my memory. I don’t have memories of the truth.”
“An Entrent? Those things are an abomination. Two species should not be able to combine like that. You can’t trust those Katoks. They have no irises. You can’t tell what they’re looking at.” Xander began mumbling a prayer.
“I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I grew up on Caria after the Katok Wars. Caria sided with the Alliance of Faith and stayed with them after the cease-fire. They’re not all bad you know, the colonies in the Alliance. Sure, the leaders brainwash their citizens to stay in power. It’s not that different with the Commonwealth if you ask me, just a different type of propaganda. One spouts religion and the other patriotism, both disguised as fascism. People in power will do anything to stay in power.”
I did not expect a deep and meaningful conversation here, tonight, of all places.
“The Entrent wiping your mind thing, that seals it for me!” Xander laughed heartily. “Sorry mate, I don’t mean to enjoy your bad fortune.”
“You can laugh. I don’t care anymore.”
“I think the Mimics are a real problem. Minister Ocano said not to worry about them. That Fleet will easily stop any invasion. We supposedly have the most technologically superior ships in the galaxy.”
Jonas’ eyes opened wide. I feel like I’ve had this conversation before. But I can’t remember. The headaches came back, slight, but still painful.
“When you think about it, an entire species of aliens are attacking us, and the Commonwealth is trying to squash all rumors about the invasion. It’s like we’re not allowed to talk about it. Even if we were going to win easily, shouldn’t there be more news? We have almost one million ColonyNet channels, and the only updates I get on the Mimic war are from Fleet Press Officers telling us not to worry. It’s all propaganda.”
“Nothing makes sense in this universe. Get used to it.”
“I have an aunt. She’s a little crazy on account of growing up on an Alliance colony and a steady diet of brainwashing. She calls Mimics the Plague. All the time she says Hasha created the Plague to destroy all the non-believers. But true believers like those in the Alliance will be spared.”
“So news of the Mimics have spread to the Alliance of Faith as well?”
“Yes. Just about everyone has seen the videos of Ostia Station. I’ve seen all of them, the direct feed from your brother’s visor cam, the feed from the Auxiliary Bridge, and the personal feed that was meant for you.”
“What?” Jonas shot up into a sitting position, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.
“It doesn’t matter how much Fleet wants to censor or scrub the videos. Once something is on the planet nets, it’s out for good. I guess they’ll never learn their lesson.”
“What personal feed?” Jonas said with an edge to his voice.
“You never saw them?” Xander laughed. �
��Sorry, it’s funny to think I’ve seen more of your brother’s last moments than you have. That’s interesting Fleet would hide it from you. I just want to say it doesn’t seem like your brother was a coward. It looks to me, and I think many people would agree with me here, your brother gave his life to protect us. That is unless they altered the video, which wouldn’t make sense. Why alter the video to make him look like a hero, only to label him a coward? Most likely everything was authentic.”
Jonas lay back down and stared at the ceiling. Sleepiness left his body. His mind wandered to the last time he saw his brother. He was on a trip with Nolan and Saera on the Daxu resort planet. She went missing on that trip, vanished without a trace. Then Nolan disappeared emotionally after that. There was something else I’m forgetting. Jonas rubbed his temples. I never believed Nolan was a coward. He would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant he could protect the ones he loved. I was too harsh on him. He also lost a sister that day. Jonas felt a tightness in his throat. I miss Nolan. A lot. Wish he was still alive so I can talk to him…
7
Jonas felt the arena vibrating, trembling from the roar of the holo-crowd — Commonwealth and Alliance colonists that paid extra to have their projections cast into the arena. Quip had his blue leather armor tailored, adding a long flowing cape. The entire set felt light on his shoulders, almost weightless. Jonas wondered if his armor would actually protect him.
Floating above the circular arena was a colossal video screen. It displayed two images side-by-side. On the left, a photo of Jonas and his vitals:
Jonas Barick
0-0 Debut
1.8 meters tall, 83.9 kilograms
Neuromods: Strength
Biomods: None
The right displayed his opponent's stats:
Galen Jann
2-2
1.8 meters, 85.2 kilograms
Neuromods: Strength, Speed
Biomods: Stamina, Fire Resistance, Fire Generation
Fire resistance and fire generation… Jonas felt a tingling in his arms and legs. What could that possibly mean? Since all biomods are illegal throughout the Commonwealth, he had never seen anyone with them. He picked up his ice blade. It felt slight, like a toy. His stomach churned. What if all of this was a setup? Dr. Zechiel kept repeating I would die… Jonas started stretching and warming up his muscles.
“Hey, you!” Quip appeared behind Jonas who jumped at the sound of her voice. “You seem a little wound up.” She giggled. Her outfit changed. She wore a red leather dress with gems studded around the bosom and waist.
“I wasn’t expecting to talk to anyone before the fight.” He turned away, trying to focus on his warm-up exercises.
“I wanted to wish you good luck. I added a little extra something to your sword. Did you notice that I replaced the aquamarine gem with a red stone on the hilt?”
“What about it?”
“Press it, silly.” She beamed a smile.
When Jonas pressed down on the gem, the sword gleamed with a cool white light. The surrounding air became chilly. Frost formed on the sides of the blade.
“It’s been infused with crushed Coryzinian stones. When you press on the red stone, an endothermic reaction happens which…”
“… Takes heat from the air around the sword,” Jonas finished the sentence. He remembered a lecture during his Academy days on Coryzinian stones. Fleet experimented with cryo-weapons to subdue hostile ships without damaging them. He smiled at Quip. “Remarkable.”
“Oh baby, that smile.” Quip mocked fanning herself. “Don’t do that to me before the fight.” She slapped his butt. “Well, good luck. Remember, give 'em what they want and put on a good show.”
A loud bell sounded over the entire arena. Both gladiators approached each other.
After five steps, Jonas stopped. Even though the crowd was completely holographic, he felt the pressure of a thousand stares weighing on his shoulders.
The floating screen changed. Underneath each fighter’s photo was a number: 10,000.
The purse total for winning.
Galen stopped three meters in front of Jonas. Some members of the holo-crowd stood and cheered. Armor covered every centimeter of his body — black jackboots, navy leggings with purple trim, matching metal breastplate, arm sleeves, and wrist guards. On his head, a purple helmet and visor, laser carved to resemble a dragon. He wielded a double-ended polearm which had both ends bearing bladed tips.
Compared to Galen, Jonas felt naked. The tingling in his limbs from earlier disappeared, replaced with numbness. His mouth felt dry, and he had trouble swallowing. Get it together…
They were the same height, but Galen looked stockier, thicker.
Jonas gripped his sword tighter.
The crowd cheered as Galen spun his lance behind his back and over his head, showing off. He raised his lance into the air. Roars filled the arena.
A bell sound came from the scoreboard. The number next to Galen’s photo went up by 5,000.
Give the people what they want and they’ll pay you… Jonas twirled his sword in his right hand for a moment before it slipped and dug into the arena dirt. The audience laughed, but his purse total remained unchanged.
Galen charged at Jonas first.
Jonas dodged and rolled to his sword, grabbing it in time to stand up and parry the strike from his opponent.
Galen seemingly anticipated the counter and delivered a roundhouse spinning kick into Jonas’ midsection.
Jonas flew ten meters into the air, landing with a heavy thud. He immediately coughed up blood after pushing himself up. His neuromods are on. Quickly Jonas activated his BIP and turned on his strength neuromod.
The viewers added 25,000 credits to Galen’s purse.
In a flash, Galen appeared behind Jonas. Before Jonas could react, Galen pulled his lance into Jonas’ neck, crushing his throat. “There is a lot of people who want to see you dead, traitor.”
Jonas struggled to breathe, his face turned blue.
Another 25,000 credits flew into Galen’s purse.
“Don’t give up too easily. I need to build up my winnings.” Galen laughed.
Jonas grabbed the polearm, dug his heels into the ground, and bent forward, launching Galen into the opposite wall. He lifted Galen’s lance into the air and quickly brought it to his thigh, snapping it in two. Jonas threw both segments into the virtual crowd like javelins.
50,000 credits to Jonas.
The nearby onlookers stood and cheered.
“I think I’m starting to win the crowd,” Jonas shouted at his opponent.
Galen brushed the dirt off his armor as he picked himself up.
Jonas approached his sword and ripped it out of the ground. His neck throbbed in pain, but he resisted rubbing it.
Galen didn’t appear concerned about his lack of weapons. He charged Jonas again. In the blink of an eye, he reached Jonas and delivered a fearsome blow to Jonas’ ribs, the same side from the first hit.
Jonas heard a crack, possibly a series of snaps as he absorbed the assault.
“That sounded like it hurt.” Galen ran circles around his adversary, jabbing at Jonas’ mid-section from all sides.
The crowd delighted with every blow, giving 1000 credits to Galen for each hit.
Jonas fell to the ground and curled into a ball, trying to lessen the effect of the onslaught. Welts appeared all over his torso.
“Believe it or not, I’m going easy on you.” Galen kicked Jonas hard enough to send him flying across the arena.
25,000 credits to Galen.
Jonas landed hard, rolling another two meters to a stop. He lay motionless, fighting hard to breathe as he stared at the domed ceiling of the stadium. His sword flew with him but landed just out of reach.
Galen hovered over Jonas. “You’re getting what you deserve, traitor.” His mouth, the only visible part of his face under the visor, showed a smug smile.
Jonas brought up his arms to defend his head.
; Galen stomped on Jonas’ stomach causing him to gasp for air. “Almost over, traitor.”
10,000 credits to Galen.
The crowd roared. Most of the patrons were on their feet as if expecting a grand finale.
Dirt and sweat found their way into Jonas’ eyes. His vision blurred to the point where all the arena lights tripled. Still, he noticed Galen’s left hand turning red, then glowing bright orange.
Galen lifted his fiery hand into the air and shot pulses of flames from his palm. “I didn’t have to use this, but you have to put on a good show, after all.” He smirked.
The cheers and applause from the audience grew to become a tsunami of sound, ever eager to drown yet another victim.
500,000 credits added to Galen’s total.
Jonas clutched at his chest. While Galen posed for the masses and watched his purse grow to almost a million, Jonas rolled over and punched his opponent’s left leg hard enough to shatter the tibia bone.
100,000 credits for Jonas.
Galen howled in pain and immediately dropped to his good knee. “I wasn’t going to kill you, but now I will!” He shot a fireball at Jonas.
With his forearm, Jonas blocked the orb of fire. He screamed as he felt his skin melting. The smell of burnt flesh stung his nose. His BIP malfunctioned, disabling his strength neuromod. I need my sword…
The crowd rose to their feet.
50,000 to Galen.
Galen tried to shoot another fireball, but his hand fizzled instead.
Jonas felt his strength fading. He crawled on his belly toward his sword.
“That sword will not save you.” Galen hobbled after him.
With one last great lunge, Jonas reached the hilt of his sword.
Galen fell forward and grabbed Jonas’ ankle with his fiery hand.
25,000 to Galen.
Jonas screamed as his ankle seared. In one quick swipe of his sword, Jonas cut off Galen’s flaming hand.