Beyond Antares Dimensional Gates

by Edited by Brandon Rospond

  Almost as one, the attention of the Jent contingent and the many other, similarly small groups dotted around the complex, were drawn back to their closest view screens as klaxons blared throughout the halls, alerting the assembled Boromites to the start of the next block of races. What the Jent lacked in financing, they made up for in lavan knowledge and expertise, with people like Renck crucial to the clan’s continued existence. If their locomites performed as expected over the course of the next few hours, they should easily be able to acquire enough of the startup capital they required, achieved through a combination of winnings and a complex network of side bets that had been placed discretely with bookmakers across the length and breadth of the whole station.

  Boromites did not sweat, part of the complex augmentation that went into ensuring they could survive the high levels of radiation exposure that drove much of their early development. But in that instant, it did not stop Kaanen’s gut from clenching in anticipation as the holos ran through the plethora of infographics, statistics, and screen after screen of betting odds that constituted all the necessary information for the first of the upcoming races. During those first few encouraging moments, it looked as if the Guild Mother’s plan might actually pay off, as the probabilities and odds being shown on the live betting feeds were indeed showing the expected patterns the clan had sought to create over the past few days’ manipulations.

  It appeared that none of the syndicates had noticed the way they had subtly shifted the odds in their creatures’ favor, merely adjusting in a largely reactionary manner to what they saw as the market’s predictions. It had cost the clan much to pull off, but the rewards would be significant. As the final form sheets came through, several of Madroth’s party began feverishly keying commands into their mobile terminals, adapting the previously agreed spreads to the final figures and laying down much of Jent’s remaining capital. And then as quickly as it had begun, the horns reverberated around the chasms once more, and as one, every pair of eyes turned back to the main screens.

  Across Madroth’s folded arms, her hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. And barely heard through her tightly grinding jaw, she growled threateningly, “This thing had better work.”

  * * * *

  Over the next few hours, the events went reasonably well for Clan Jent. The winnings, often made through one or more intermediaries in order to obscure the pattern of their behavior, started to peter in. Some losses were made, but this was all part of the plan, to allay any suspicion on the part of the more meticulous observers, and they managed to continue to lay down bets throughout the day without interference. Their lavans performed well with Renck’s unique conditioning apparently having taken, the locomites able to purposefully lose specific races on command in order to continually abuse the already stacked betting averages. But in spite of all their efforts, they were still not on track to make the target amount that the Guild Mother had set them. Madroth had some of her people continuously reworking the numbers in an effort to swing events back in their favor, but it would take a much more aggressive expenditure and risk if they were to walk away with the money they needed.

  And as the hours ticked away, the time for such drastic action continued to creep ever closer.

  * * * *

  Down in the tight confines of the holding pens and starting gates, the air was thick with the musk of raw tension emanating from every pore of the mature locomites, mixed with the super heated trails left behind by the automated drones buzzing back and forth. No Boromites were allowed in the enclosure, no clan truly trusting another to be sufficiently independent of the huge amounts of money changing hands to manage the beasts without interference. Instead, the drones were opened up to inspection from all the involved gangs before the beginning of the proceedings to ensure none of the devices’ components or architecture had been compromised by any enterprising elements of their society.

  Forced together into such a small area, the strain between the rock steeds was palpable. Their surprisingly effective olfactory capabilities, an integral part in discovering some of the more attractive veins of rockfood, could easily tell brood from brood. With so many in one place, the more aggressive males were driven over the edge, snapping and biting at anything that came near. Indeed it was not unknown for some pairs of rival alphas to halt mid-race and descend into a brutal and devastating melee, usually with one side left permanently crippled, if not dead. The drones began hovering into position over the enclosures of the next set of lavans that were due to compete and began administering crackling electrical shocks to the beasts’ hindquarters, driving them forward toward their assigned starting positions as they bellowed back, ineffectually snapping at the hovering machinery in protest of their treatment.

  But there was one locomite among the latest group that moved ahead with surprisingly little in the way of resistance, exhibiting something almost akin to eagerness in its movements to stack up before the track. Its eyes glittered menacingly, muscles tensely bound, as it waited to release itself fully. The thick and thin lines lasered into its hide that marked it out as the property of Clan Jent caught the bands of yellow light from the overhead illuminators as they spun in time to the robotically voiced countdown. Burning eyes narrowed as the timer reached the lower digits, for this lavan had now been untethered and was finally being allowed to perform to its utmost potential. Little knowing that the fate of a whole clan would ultimately lay on its bony, rock encrusted shoulders.

  * * * *

  When the counter at last hit zero, the enclosures were flooded with high-gain electromagnetics, instantly riling the beasts into a frenzy, and they burst forth from the cages in a roaring tumult of clashing bodies. The Jent ensemble stood stationary, eyes glued to the monitor above as the various vid-drones scattered around the course picked up the proceedings and beamed the feed back to the patrons and gamblers across the compound. Deep within the asteroid’s core, the organizers had hollowed out a winding, twisting series of tunnels. In some sections, the course would split into multiple thin, narrow fissures, barely large enough to fit one of the racing breed through, each track running over and under each other before reconnecting at later points along the course. With an almost limitless capability for a multidimensional layout, the track designers had used verticality extensively and exploited the lavans’ momentum to incorporate sections with almost vertical climbs. It was not unknown for the unlucky to plummet down steep drops to their death, in some weakened sections even falling down into areas that had never been explored fully.

  Madroth’s cold, calculating eyes appeared almost serene as she observed the race. It reminded Kaanen of the look a predator had, circling the weaker prey animals, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. They had been forced to commit a larger amount of their capital and remaining favors on this run than originally planned, but this was the best of Renck’s locomites, the most savvy and vicious. They had managed to hold back its natural temperament to dominate others for the last day and a half, an incredible feat for such a creature, all so that the resulting losses would spiral its odds down for exactly this race.

  As the view screen switched to a drone further along the cavern complex, he saw their entrant. Running behind the leading pack, it seemed content to save its strength, utilizing the depressions left in the loose scree of the rising ground by the frontrunners and also avoiding their constant jostling for position going into the first of the course splits. Among the leading three lavans, one broke to the left, taking a longer, more obtuse path, while the other two barreled on toward the main opening in the rock wall ahead. The nimbler and slighter of the two just managed to pull ahead before the pair collided into the ragged, spiked surface. But before it could exploit the advantage and pull away, the trailing creature sank its vast maw deep into the leader’s less armored hindquarters, savagely gauging out great chunks of flesh as its rocky scales crumbled and cracked beneath the powerful force.

  As the initial strength bled from the wounded beast, its a
ttacker released the formidable grip and, uninterested in finishing the crippled opponent, clambered over the top of its body to continue the race, easily avoiding the victim’s wildly flailing jaws as it did so. The victor powered forward, its distinct red coloring scraping against the enclosing walls to either side, and leaving long trails of scarlet as it ran, eager to make up the time it had lost dealing with its foe. Whilst shortly behind, Jent’s entrant kept a steady pace, barely breaking its stride as it clambered up and leapt from the crumpled form of the wounded lavan, and disappeared into the darkness ahead.

  One of the gangers crowded around the terminal let loose a long, drawn out sigh of concern. “That Red, that’s really something right there. You sure we made the right call here?”

  Madroth did not even deign to give a response, her attention fully occupied on the holo in front. One raised eyebrow was the only indication that she had heard the speaker’s words.

  “Scale can handle it, he’s one of the most obstinate, focused lavans I’ve ever seen. He won‘t let us down,” Renck’s words may have sounded confident to the younger members of the circle, but Kaanen could see the clouds of doubt behind the trainer’s eyes, and he felt the tight knot in his stomach start to grow.

  “Let’s hope so, Keeper Renck. For all our sakes,” the guildess replied, the concern telling in her more measured tone and demeanor, eyes still locked on the screen ahead.

  The two snaking passages rejoined where the next drone had stationed itself along the course. Both Red and Scale honed into view, the gap between them having closed significantly since they entered the tunnel. As they got closer to the drone, its motion detectors suddenly picked up movement along the adjoining channel. Spinning wildly, and backing away further from the intersection, its programming did the best it could to frame the view back down the track such that it would capture both routes leading into the intersection. It seemed that despite the larger distance it had to cover, the locomite that had broken off from the group at the last branching point had managed to keep pace with the main group, the others paying for the cost of the earlier altercation.

  The new arrival drove on, oblivious to the two lavans now mirroring its trajectory along the main concourse. It skittered along the outside wall as it banked, curving in to rejoin the original path. At this point, a collision looked inevitable, and just as it burst forth from the constricted hole, the smaller creature smashed into the side of Red, who was storming its way forward like a juggernaut. The locomite seemed to slow and panic as its view was suddenly filled with the flank of the huge scarlet covered beast, the hesitation catastrophically robbing it of much of its forward velocity and impact force. The lead lavan battered aside its smaller competitor, Red flinching from the impact in its side as the loser rebounded away, slamming back into the wall of the passage, dazed and stunned for the time being. The powerhouse known as Red was unhurt, but the collision had staggered it briefly, causing a shift in its overall balance that granted a window of a precious few seconds for Jent’s chosen, Scale, to finally cover the remaining distance at full pelt, stealing the lead whilst Red was distracted and unable to retaliate.

  It was at that moment that Scale unleashed its full energy reserves, sprinting ahead with all its might, the speeding form dodging in and out of the massed raised stalagmites that littered the floor of the cavern ahead. A loud cheer went up from the Jent delegation, many turning to clap their neighbors on the back. In spite of the ire this raucous behavior brought from those outside the little group, Kaanen noticed a wave of relief pass over Renck, his body noticeably relaxing as Scale pulled through. Even Madroth was smiling, or at least what passed for her form of it, a wry curling up at the edge of her facial muscles.

  The leaders of the race disappeared off-screen, the action now focusing on the remaining runners whilst waiting for those at the front to reach the next drone. Kaanen allowed himself a moment’s introspection among the hustle and bustle or his surroundings. The difference this win would make to the clan would be immense, and it was their best bet to avoid the slow decline and clan schisms that would inevitably come to those remaining in the system as the IMTel closed its fingers around the region. He was soon snapped out of his reverie by the sensors at the next drone location firing, the feed switching down course to the new checkpoint. They were past the halfway mark of the race now, the terrain beginning to favor the more agile and intelligent of the lavan beasts. If Scale was still holding the lead here, then the chances of their victory would be extremely high.

  As the first of the recognizable shapes started to materialize out of the darkness, the assembled group all strained to make out any defining details of its body. Slowly, and with a growing sense of dread, Kaanen watched as more and more of the lavan’s details began to emerge on the screen. To a man, every one of the Boromites held their breath, unwilling to voice their suspicions in the hope that the others were not seeing the same thing as they were. Ultimately they were left with no doubt, Red screamed past the viewer as it smashed through a weakened pillar of fragile saltstone, showering the course with splintered fragments and shattered pieces of debris. The silence grew long as the members of Jent waited, watching a view feed that showed nothing more than an empty cavern, each desperate to see what fate had befallen their runner. Eventually Scale appeared, still moving at pace, but clearly suffering from a serious injury. One of his back pincers wobbled uncertainly whenever the creature’s weight was placed upon it, throwing off the lavan’s gait considerably.

  “I don’t understand… It’s just…” One of the gangers uttered breathlessly in shocked disbelief. “What does this mean for us?”

  “It means we’re screwed!” Another barked in hopeless frustration.

  Madroth turned on him in an instant, her words a sharp retort that would brook no response, “You think?” Her eyes closed as she tried to plan the group’s next move - they had to act fast before the news began to spread. Fingers snapped out in Kaanen and Renck’s directions. “You two, find out what the hell went wrong down there. Don’t talk to anyone, no one is to know about this, clear? The rest of you with me, we’re going to go knock on the doors of a few old acquaintances.”

  Kaanen caught her as she turned to go. “You’re thinking sabotage?”

  “I’m not thinking anything at the moment,” she eyed Renck maliciously, “but you‘d better hope you find something down there, because I’m taking this out of somebody’s hide, whatever goes down.”

  * * * *

  Kaanen and Renck paced along the course between the two drone positions where Scale was injured. In between the scheduled blocks of races, the tunnels were routinely swept clear of the bodies of the fallen and any necessary structural repairs were made. A few chits handed out to the right people had seen them granted access. Renck recognized Kaanen, they had worked together a few times on smuggling runs. He would not exactly call him a friend, but given the gravity of the situation that he found himself in, it was nice to see a familiar face. Renck called a halt to their progress yet again and began inspecting the ground around their feet.

  Kaanen turned to him, his patience beginning to wane. “What exactly are we meant to be looking for? Isn’t it simply possible that that huge monster just attacked our locomite, like it did the other one? If anything, Scale got off lightly in comparison.”

  “Fingers and thumbs,” Renck did not stop his bent-over pacing, searching the area following an organized grid pattern.

  Kaanen snapped back at him. “What? You are unbelievable! Have you actually lost it?”

  Renck looked up at last, surprised. “Huh?”

  “Renck, what do you mean by ‘fingers and thumbs’?” Kaanen threw his arms wide in exasperation at the man’s incredulity.

  “Fingers and thumbs, the lavans don’t have them. They can’t hold things or use tools like you and I,” Renck resumed his searching. “I found sharp rock fragments buried in the ligaments all around the joint on one of Scale’s back pincers, but no teeth marks. At
first I thought perhaps a lava spit had hit the wall nearby and exploded the rock next to it, but look around you, it’s all high density silicate. It doesn't make sense.”

  “So? What are you saying happened down here?”

  “I have a theory,” Renck’s eyes sparkled in the low lighting of the cavern. “I just need a little more proof…”

  * * * *

  “What am I looking at exactly?” Madroth stared at the tablet in front of her, a blurry vid feed from down in the tunnels playing across its surface, the details hampered by the race track’s poor lighting.

  “It’s the burn marks left behind by a plasma detonation, albeit on a very small scale,” Kaanen leaned against the metal container’s back wall. They had brought several of the transport loaders with them to use as temporary living spaces and to provide a small, protected compound, free from the prying eyes of rival clans. “It looks like a small shaped charge was drilled into the rock wall. I can’t tell if it was keyed off biometrics, sensor nets, or if it was simply activated remotely. The explosion utterly consumed any physical components of the device.”