by Dan Davis
“You were right,” Ram said to Sifa. “Eating was a strange experience. Sensations are as though they are happening behind a screen, a filter. Not unpleasant, exactly. Unnerving.”
Te Zhang laughed. “Just wait until you take your first shit.”
Sifa sighed. “Forgive his crudeness. I would say that he means well but he does not.”
“Hey,” Te said, sitting up straight. “I'm totally serious, man. It's the strangest thing, first few times. It’s akin to dreaming about laying an ostrich egg.”
Ram laughed. “Okay. I'll look forward to it.”
The subjects in the mess hall were throwing Ram looks, glancing at him, whispering and smirking, frowning. Mael and the four others with him muttered almost continuously.
Sifa elbowed him. “Do not worry about them,” she said. “They are merely curious.”
“You should worry,” Alina said, staring at Ram. “Worry very much.”
“Worry most about Mael,” Te said, lowering his voice. “And his crazies.”
“Yes, this is correct,” Alina said. “Mael is capable of killing you. He is devoid of mercy.”
Sifa dismissed that with a tut. “Don't listen to her. You stay by us and we will protect you.”
“No,” Alina said. “Do not trust us. Do not trust anyone but yourself here or you will die.”
“Okay,” Te Zhang said, jerking his thumb at Alina. “Don't trust her. Me and Sifa are on your side, man, we’ll stick up for you.”
“I am merely being honest,” Alina said, shrugging her massive, hunched shoulders. “It does not reflect on our individual ethics. The carefully cultivated culture of competition here overwhelms our attempts at prolonged unity. Everything they do and say is designed to manipulate us.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Te said.
“Have you considered how strange it is for Rama to be here at all?” Alina said. “He will be useless as a fighter. The obvious conclusion is that they have decanted Rama Seti as a method for obtaining percentage point increases in performance from the group. Especially from Mael, of course. He will expend energy putting Ram in his place at the bottom of the pecking order and the increase in Mael's testosterone and so on will increase his combat efficiency.”
“Alina,” Sifa said. “Rama is here to help. He is one of us now. And even if you are right, we should help to protect him all the more. Ignore her, Rama.”
“He is not one of us,” Alina said. “He will never compete on our level. They gave him an oversized body fifty years past its use by date and he has no combat experience. None.”
“I'm right here,” Ram said to Alina, his heart racing. “I can hear what you're saying.”
Alina turned her sharp blue eyes to him. “This is not your fault. In fact, I feel sorry for you. You will die, soon.”
Ram hesitated, unsure of how to react. More worrying was that his new friends, Sifa and Te, would not meet his eye.
A chime sounded and everyone in the room stood. Everyone got up and made their way through to the sparring hall. Mael Durand, Subject Alpha, strode out first and the rest gave him plenty of room.
“What's happening?” Ram asked Sifa, looking around.
He really was the tallest and probably the bulkiest of the whole group, just as Milena had said.
“Come on,” Sifa said, leading him toward the exit. “Time for an evening training session. Usually, it's light activity, stretching, relaxation, mental exercise. Today will be different.”
“Because I’m here. They need to put me in my place.”
“Words of warning? Do whatever Bediako tells you to do. Do not think that speaking back to him or resisting his will shall be tolerated. Do not try to stand up to Mael. It will make him even more violent. If you have to fight him, simply let him knock you down and hope that Bediako stops him before he kills you.”
“What?” Ram asked, panic rising. “What?”
But she patted his upper arm and walked through the door.
He followed, out into the practice hall where the group of subjects gathered in a rough half circle around Bediako.
Most of the subjects leered and or looked grim, blaming him for the extra session no doubt. But Ram barely noticed the others, because Mael Durand, Subject Alpha, stood with his head lowered, looking through his eyebrows at Ram as he approached, grinning like a maniac.
9. FIRST TEST
“This evening our replacement subject finally joins us,” Bediako said when Ram joined the end of the rough semi-circle of subjects. His voice was harsh, like a belt sander churning through a bag of bolts. “I know some of you are unhappy about the new member of our ludus. Unhappy about having a new comrade at all and also unhappy about the individual himself. I also know that considering what is at stake, our happiness as individuals is unimportant. That is why you will all join me in welcoming Rama Seti to our ludus. Come on up here, Rama, and tell us all about yourself.”
Ram stood on the edge of the group and stared at Bediako, wondering what he should say, if he could escape, somehow.
Whatever happens, he promised himself, I have to survive this.
“Come here, now,” Bediako said, scowling. “If speaking to a small group of peers makes you nervous then you will not enjoy the rest of your time here. Not at all.”
Mael laughed. An evil cackle that came from deep in his gut. Most of the others laughed or smirked too. Ram stood up straight and strutted as best he could to stand beside Bediako, their laughter still ringing in his head.
It felt strange, looking around at those men and women. Shaved heads, short hair, mountains of muscle under thin vests and shorts. Hard faces on almost all of them, unfriendly eyes, downturned mouths. Fighters, soldiers, killers. A frightening bunch.
Someone sniggered.
“Right,” Ram said, nodding. “Okay. Hi. My name's Ram. Er, Rama Seti but just call me Ram.” He could not think of anything else to say. “I guess you don’t want me here but it’s not as much as I don’t want to be here myself. It’s pretty amazing to be on a spaceship and everything and find out that aliens are real and all but I think even in spite of all that, I’d rather be at home. I don’t know what to think and feel about all this. I’ll have to do what I can do.”
Ram faltered, knowing he sounded like a weakling and a loser. He was about to mention his Avar career before he realized that would make it worse. So he paused, wondering what he could say that would make him sound impressive to the toughest group of warriors in the system.
“Very informative,” Bediako said after a moment. “Thank you for that speech, Rama Seti, and the insight it gives us into your character. Emotional stuff, I think I might have shed a tear.”
Most people chuckled and Ram walked toward his place at the end of the line, flooded with shame and also relief that it was over.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bediako roared.
Ram flinched, turned back.
“I think we'd all like to see what you're made of,” Bediako said in a reasonable tone and looking him steadily in the eye.
Murmurs of assent. Ram did not think it would do much good to explain that he was made of naan and soda and probably something squishy, like shit. So he said nothing and stayed in the center next to Bediako.
“Any volunteers?” Bediako said.
About eight hands shot up. Almost everyone.
Mael was one of them.
Te was another and Sifa, too. Alina was not even looking in his general direction
“Mael,” Bediako said and Ram's guts churned. “Put your hand down, you maniac. We don't want Rama killed on his first day, do we? Well, we know that you do.” Almost everyone laughed. “Te Zhang, put your hand down, we don't want your bleeding heart leaking all over my ludus. Sifa, I know what you want to do with him, put your hand down. Aziz, yes, you will do.”
The biggest man in the line of subjects stepped forward. Ram was taller but the man walking toward him was big boned and bulky and had a jaw like a bulldozer’
s bucket.
“Allow me to make the introductions,” Bediako said. “Eziz was a junior wrestling champion in a previous life, weren't you, Eziz? Until he got banned for killing the adult Olympic silver medalist in the ring.” Bediako said, chuckling. “Can you imagine, it, Rama Seti? In a sanitized, protected wrestling match, a fifteen-year-old Eziz broke the neck and skull of an adult champion. They made him join the armed forces for punishment and he started his career as a professional killer. In fact, it was more of a calling, I would say. A gift. As you can see from the size of his head, Eziz was almost this big before he got his new body. Weren't you, Eziz? Never much of a talker, though.”
Eziz 's dark eyes glinted in the low light, half hidden under the slab of his eyebrow ridge. He moved with a strutting solidity, like a gorilla and took a hunched stance a few meters across from Ram.
“Eziz, this is Rama Seti,” Bediako said. “He sat on his fat ass his whole life and never did anything of note.”
Bediako stepped back a few paces and the rest of the subjects stepped back away.
“Alright,” Bediako said, “are you ready, Eziz?”
The monstrous man leered, his eyes locked on Ram's, hunched and bouncing on his toes, his long arms dangling.
“Are you ready?” Bediako said to Ram.
“Er, wait, no,” Ram said, looking between Bediako and Eziz. “What are the rules?”
Bediako laughed, as did the others.
“Alright, let's go,” Bediako shouted and clapped his hands.
Eziz crouched lower and shuffled forward.
Ram instinctively took a step backward. Were they expecting him to fight? On his first day? On a full stomach?
“Ram.”
Milena's voice sounded in his ear, from inside his head.
“Ram, it's Milena. I'm watching you right now. I am monitoring your vitals. Do not be afraid. They will not allow you to be seriously hurt.”
“Okay,” Ram said as Eziz circled. The other subjects called out advice for Eziz or Ram but Ram’s heart was pounding so hard that he couldn't hear the words, just the hum of the noise.
“Don't speak, just listen,” Milena said, talking quickly. “Eziz will toy with you, try to humiliate you before he beats you. Your best hope is to hit hard, surprise him. Show everyone you mean business. You will not win. Do not think that. Do not have hope for victory. But you must fight, right now. Here he comes, watch him. He's a grappler, so you have to punch him. Punch, kick, strike. Go for his face, his eyes.”
Bouncing lightly on his toes, Eziz shifted rhythmically, as though he was dancing.
Ram had never thrown a punch in real life. In Avar, he had fought thousands of battles. Unarmed combat, swords, guns and energy weapons, Ram had used them all. He'd crushed battalions, he'd smashed armies. But it was all in Avar. Throwing a punch should be the most natural thing in the world, instinctive and also he’d performed the move thousands of times in virtual practice. He knew in theory what you had to do. But doing it in Avar, when the only consequences was a little tap of sensory feedback, was a world away from what he was facing in that moment, with a monstrous great elite wrestler coming for him.
Eziz feinted forward and Ram jerked back, causing much amusement from the others. Ram got halfway through a sigh of relief when Eziz changed direction, breaking rhythm. The room spun and Ram crashed into the floor, on his back. When he looked up, Eziz had already retreated, grinning and waving at the others.
“Get up, Ram,” Milena's voice sounded in his head.
“What happened?” Ram muttered, like an idiot as he climbed to his feet.
“He tripped you,” Milena said. “Come on, Ram, you have to fight him.”
Ram glanced at the crowd as Sifa shouted encouragement.
“Watch it,” Milena shouted and Eziz was on him again, feet pounding on the mat. Ram threw his hands up, stepping back and to the side. He realized with surprise that he had caught Eziz's hands in his own.
Eziz was surprised, too. He froze, just for a moment, before, twisting Ram's arms down and round. Ram found himself spun about with Eziz's arm across his throat and the weight of the big man on his back, bearing him down to the floor.
“Ram,” Milena's voice came through, calm and clear in his head. “He has you in a rear choke hold. Force his hands apart, reach up and separate his grip.”
Ram fell to his knees, Eziz pushing him down, panting hot, spicy breath into Ram's ear. Reaching up to his own throat, Ram grasped Eziz's massive wrists and tried to pry them apart. It was like trying to bend an iron bar or pull apart a steel chain. But it did ease the pressure on his neck.
“Good, Ram, keep it up,” Milena said. “Now, hunch your shoulders. Push your chin into your chest. Keep pulling his hands apart.”
With the pressure of Eziz on his back, all Ram could see was the floor underfoot, the slight wrinkling of the black padded mats. Ram blindly followed Milena's instruction and felt the pressure of the choke ease off further.
Eziz twisted and slammed a knee into Ram's kidney. The blow was more a surprise than painful but it distracted Ram's attention enough to find Eziz slipping his arms up higher, one tight into his neck and the other on the back of Ram's head, pushing it down.
Ram knew he was going down.
“Don't give up, Ram,” Milena said. “Reach up to the back of your head with your right hand, find his fingers. Do it now.” Ram's vision darkened, blackness rolling in from the edges. But he obeyed Milena's insistent voice. “Grab his fingers, hard, bend them back. Snap them off, Ram, tear them from his hand. You're bigger than he is. You're stronger. You hear me, Ram, you’re stronger than he is, just rip his hands off.”
Ram felt where Eziz was forcing his head down, grabbed the first two fingers and pushed up as hard as he could.
It turned out, that was pretty hard.
The bones in Eziz's fat fingers snapped, with a series of crunching, grinding pops. Eziz roared in Ram's ear and released the choke on his back.
Ram got to one knee, breathing deeply. He had done it, he had broken free.
“It's not over,” Milena said. “Watch out for—”
Eziz thumped the back of his skull and Ram went down. The world went black.
Bediako rolled him over and stood looking down at him. The instructor did not help him up and he stood right over him, suggesting Ram was supposed to stay down. That was fine, so far as Ram was concerned. People were clapping and jeering.
“Eziz,” Bediako shouted, though he kept looking down at Ram. “You useless bastard, go to medical right now. How you got selected for this project, I will never know.”
“He was supposed to be untrained,” Eziz said from behind Bediako. “I was just having fun.”
“Talk to me again after I've dismissed you,” Bediako said. “And I'll break every bone in both your hands.”
Milena's voice was a whisper in Ram's ear. “Stay down,” she said. “And well done. Very well done, indeed.” It sounded as if she was smiling.
The laughing and jeering died away and Bediako stepped back. “Alright, thanks to that shameful display, we are not done for the day. You people clearly need more practice, if a complete novice can incapacitate one of you. Now, pair up. You know your drills. Zhang, you start showing Rama Seti here some fundamentals. Mind he doesn’t snap your neck or something.”
The line broke up and Te and Sifa pulled Ram up off the floor.
“You didn't die,” Te said, grinning. “That's something.”
“I broke his fingers,” Ram said, feeling the tender parts of his neck.
“He was not expecting that,” Sifa said. “Where did you learn grappling?”
“Just now, actually,” Ram said, rubbing the back of his head where Eziz had thumped him. “What did he hit me with? A shotgun?”
“Your good old fashioned front kick, mate,” Te said. “Cracked one right at your light switch, didn't he.”
“I guess,” Ram said.
“How are you?” Sifa asked.
/> “Fine,” Ram nodded his thanks. “I mean, I think I took my first shit just now and you were right, it was a pretty strange experience.”
Te laughed. “A day of firsts for you, isn't it,” he said. “All you got to do now is make it through your first sparring session and then your first night.”
Ram looked at the group of subjects as they separated themselves out from each other. At the far end of the room, Eziz turned back in the doorway, holding his injured hand, before he stepped through the door. His eyes were full of malice. But he then carried on. Mael whispered something to his partner and they both glared at Ram as if they were wolves and he was an injured lamb.
“What do you think my chances are of seeing tomorrow?” Ram asked Sifa and Te.
They traded a look.
“Ask us in the morning,” Sifa said.
10. DARK NIGHT
They trained for another half hour. The whole time, Rama felt sure he was about to get jumped by one of the others. Every time he looked over his shoulder, Mael was leering at him.
Still, Ram spent the session attempting to learn basic striking and grappling techniques. He thought he had done well but Sifa assured him that he had not.
Bediako dismissed them and Ram stuck close to Te and Sifa as they gathered to head for the barracks section.
“So, listen,” Ram muttered to Sifa at the end. “What exactly do you mean the ludus barracks are unobserved? I’m not sure how to make it through the night without any protection against him.”
Ram watched as Mael walked off toward the mess hall in silence, trailed by the other subjects and the support staff, all chattering and making a huge, excited noise. He was like a famous actor or an Avar champion getting chased by his fans.
“Everywhere onboard is covered with cameras, okay?” Sifa said. “Everywhere on the Victory, you are filmed, recorded. Monitored. Measured. But not in the ludus barracks. That time is for us. Private time.”
“Sounds nice when you put it that way,” Ram said.