The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  An acquaintance had once said making the genisizer standard equipment for every town over a certain size/population ratio was a bloody stupid idea, that preaching genetic engineering for idiots was just asking for trouble. An acquaintance and a hypocrite. After all, it hadn’t stopped him from turning a pigeon into a giant six-winged fire breathing monstrosity covered in feathers hard as stone. Nick had found him quite restrained in his thinking too, compared to some of the people he’d known.

  He could see the point. At the same time, he realised how flippantly irrelevant the comment was. The weak or the stupid tended not to get very far in the sport, natural selection to a whole new level. Fluking it could only take you so far.

  Lost in his thoughts and the new surroundings, he hadn’t been paying attention to the few other people walking the now quiet road into the heart of the island. Not until he saw someone halt in front of him, only reflexes honed through years of spirit calling stopping him from crashing into the back of her. Yeah, almost certainly a her. Pretty? Hard to tell from behind. He almost had to dance around her, a motion that not only felt ridiculous but probably looked it as well.

  “Watch it,” he muttered. “There’s people walking here.”

  Before she could reply, he glanced up, curious more than anything as to what she looked like from the front. Back hadn’t been bad. She looked a fit girl, cut-off shorts showing tanned legs. Maybe a hint of Serranian in there. He trailed up her body with his eyes, all the way to his face and that was when he got the second shock in as many moments. A thousand grumpy comments died in an instant as he saw the face framed by the mane of dark red hair.

  “Huh.”

  She wasn’t ugly. Far from it, she was attractive in her own way. He knew guys that wouldn’t say no. And yet, he would be one of the ones to politely refuse. They’d shared too much in the past to be anything other than friends. They’d been through experiences cementing that friendship, Danger tended to do that, he didn’t want to ruin it. Sex came and went. People you could rely on when things were going bad were infinitely harder to come by. He’d seen that inscrutable smirk before, where she gave the impression she was grinning at something funny you weren’t party to. He had to admit that it annoyed the crap out of him.

  “You done examining me yet?” Lysa asked.

  “Yep,” he replied. “And I’ve come to my conclusion you’re probably not my type.”

  “Let me guess your type. Smart? Funny? Sexy? Come to bed eyes?”

  “Nah, you’re none of them,” Nick grinned. “That’s why you’re not my type. Plus, never liked redheads.”

  She smirked at that, thankfully not the irritating one and then held out her arms. He returned the embrace, smiling as he did. “Lysa.”

  “Roper, you son of a bitch, I didn’t know you were coming here!”

  “Ditto,” he said. “Same. The last I heard, you were still recovering from your injuries. How are you?”

  “Great,” she said. “All fixed up, I’ve been prepping for this for the last six months, just really getting to grips with what’s to come, you know. I mean, I see why you and Wade and some of the others treat this like a drug. It’s bloody exhilarating, right?”

  “Yeah, yet I remember you were never bothered for the sport,” Nick said, smiling. Lysa Montgomery, to his mind, had never been one who’d cared to watch it beyond the necessaries. And although she’d had her own spirits, she’d kept them purely functional. Protection mainly. She’d never shown the hint of interest in getting into the ring herself. Although the spirits she had used were more than capable, hardy enough in a fight. If she’d taken to it, the potential was there. Suddenly he felt a little stab of warning about the quality of opponent on show. Even the ones you didn’t think would be a challenge might still be capable of a surprise.

  “Well I had to fill in my time somehow, didn’t I?” she said airily. “It kept me from feeling sorry for myself. And I hate being bored. Won a bunch of tournaments over on the mainland. Glad I did now, what with being here. Kicked my points all up a notch. Thanks for the card by the way.”

  Nick wasn’t about to tell her he was impressed. And worried. The Vazaran leagues weren’t quite as tightly monitored as in the other four kingdoms. While nothing had ever been proven, there was always the hint of something ugly brewing in the air. While dirty tricks were outlawed on the surface, it felt like a place where they were always trying to sneak new ones under the radar of the referees. If she’d not just survived but thrived, it was a worrying sign that maybe she was getting good. And to win enough to get here…

  “Well I suppose I should congratulate you. Better late than never you joined the party,” he said. “And you look good.”

  “Yeah, I saw you realising how good I look,” she smirked. “You don’t look so bad yourself. How’s the other activities?”

  “Good,” he replied. “Hoping nothing goes wrong while I’m here. You back with the company yet?”

  “Still need to be signed off on a return to duty, but it’s a matter of when, not if. And I’ve got to get my adrenaline kicks somewhere. Got an assessment in about a month. Think I’ll breeze it.” Big grin as she said it, confident and cocky. She hadn’t changed, privately he was relieved about that. “Heard you got up to some adventures while I was recovering.”

  “Well I look forward to getting back to it. I know I’ll feel a lot safer with you here,” he said, not entirely joking. He didn’t reply to her other comment. Those were stories for another day.

  “That’s nice of you,” she said. “You headed up to the hotels?”

  “Yeah, just taking it all in as I do. Doubt I’ll have the chance when it all kicks off in a few days. You don’t know just how stupidly busy you’re going to be in the next two weeks or so.”

  “Busy?” she asked. By the looks of it, he was right, and she didn’t, judging by the way one of her eyebrows cocked in surprise. He’d seen that expression before under far fewer ideal circumstances than these.

  “Oh yeah, super busy. Well, if you want to go far, anyway. There’re strategies to formulate, choices to be made, training, research, all that stuff. You can’t just show up and expect to wing it. That’s how people go home early.”

  “No, really?!” Now she just sounded sarcastic. Maybe he had come across as a bit condescending.

  “Yeah. Come on, I’ll tell you about it on the way up.”

  It wasn’t far into the resort once they’d made up their mind to do it. They both were in good shape and Nick had to concede that she looked over the injuries she’d suffered many months earlier, keeping pace with him easy enough. Couple of times she’d overtaken him, and he’d had to kick up that little bit more speed to catch her up. Getting in the resort, he found himself coated in sweat and panting wildly, his head pounding from the heat as he realised what a dumb idea it had been.

  “Tired?” Lysa asked, leaning against one of the walls. When she stood up, he could see the sweat outline left against the stone. She was just as out of breath as he was, her eyes red and bordering on bloodshot. “Out of shape, Mister?”

  “Nah. Just…” He took out the water flask, drew long and deep from it before tossing it over to her. She shook it, sniffed it before pouring the contents over her face, sighing contently as she rubbed it into her skin, scraping it back into her hair. “… Never mind. It’s not good weather for it.”

  “Ah a long-distance run in this heat never hurt anyone,” she said. He glanced at her. She didn’t look like that was true. Her breathing sounded more laboured than he’d ever heard it before and he recalled the attack on her again. Had it left scars? It was inconceivable that it hadn’t. Still, she was hiding them well. It’d be his guess she wouldn’t be heading out in her bikini for a while.

  “Yeah, how about we don’t do that again,” he gasped, pocketing his spent flask. “Come on; let’s find out where we’re staying. I’ve got stuff to unpack.”

  “I know, me too. You see any of those reps anywhere?” Lysa asked, glan
cing around their surroundings. The resort looked every bit as fancily exclusive as he’d imagined it probably would. Not a drop of litter lay around the area, a trio of hotels flanking the far end of the square. Across it, he could see what had to be the temporary headquarters for the ICCC while the tournament was going on. It looked exactly the sort of building they’d erect for their purpose. Something as massive as their collective egos and about as much long-term use. Plenty of people were already filtering into the square, out of their travelling clothes and into something more appropriate for the conditions. Slowly it was turning into a hive of activity as people went about their business. Unfortunately, it made spotting one of the hotel reps that little bit harder amidst the small groups starting to form up. Nick joined her in the search, hearing her eventually let out a little yelp as she spotted one.

  “Excuse me?! Excuse me!”

  It must have been a uniform requirement, the man’s shirt looking especially crisp white against his dark skin. He’d shaved his head bald but for a thin strip down the middle of his scalp. Nick privately thought he looked a massive tit. What didn’t help was the thin point of a beard doing a poor job of hiding his chin. He carried a data pad in his hands which he immediately brought up to consult.

  “Names?”

  “Lysa Montgomery. Ms.”

  “Roper, Nicholas Roper.” He glanced sideways at her and mouthed the word Ms? at her. How many Lysa Montgomery’s did she think would be competing? It wasn’t too common a name for two of them to be here. She rolled her eyes at him but aside from that showed no other sign of acknowledging him.

  For a moment he ran his dark eyes down the list in quiet study. “Montgomery, Lysa, you’re at the Goldsand.” He jerked his thumb towards the middle of the three hotels, a pale bricked building with the name fashioned out of golden letters hung above the entrance. It had to have had at least twenty or thirty floors, more windows than Nick wanted to count, loomed over them. “Roper, Nicholas, you’re staying at Oceanside.”

  Interesting, he thought. None of the three nearby hotels, Goldsand, Highcliff, Silvermoon, were the Oceanside. All three of them looked pretty good. Suddenly he hoped he’d not been given one of the lesser ones. He doubted it immediately. Even the worst hotels were probably better than ones most people would ever stop in.

  “Down there, second right, it’s the big one with Oceanside written on it,” the rep grunted, gesturing. Already Nick felt like an afterthought, he was glancing at Lysa’s tanned legs with more interest than he’d given the data pad. Doubtless he’d be the only one in the next few weeks to do that.

  “Thanks,” he said. The lack of attention suited him just fine. It meant he didn’t have to waste time with idle chatter when he was running a little late to start with. He glanced at the time on his summoner. Only an hour left. And she’d be pissed if he was late. She had a weird streak like that. “Bye.”

  He strode away, Lysa lingered a moment longer to offer a more detailed farewell but soon she was after him as well.

  “That was abrupt,” she said. “Jealous he wasn’t staring at you?” She couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice.

  “Regretting not wearing a tighter shirt,” Nick replied, unable to hide his grin. “Take it you noticed that then.”

  Her snort of derision was magnificent. “There’s a blind beggar on the mainland who noticed it. Should have tried to get a room upgrade, shouldn’t I?”

  Nick laughed. “Nah, I don’t think that’d have worked. And if you’d asked if you could have the honeymoon suite, he might have expected to share it with you. Think he had some drool in his beard, if you could call it that.”

  “Yeah but you’ve got to dream, right?” Lysa said wistfully once she’d finished grinning. “So, you got plans for tonight?”

  They reached the end of the street, one sign pointing towards the Oceanside hotel in one direction, the other towards the Goldsand in the opposite. A faint breeze played through the air, welcome in the humidity. Nick mopped his forehead. He needed to change into something cooler. Going from Canterage rain to Vazaran sun was something he could have planned better. His sleeve came back dark with moisture. He still stood by the opinion it felt hotter than normal.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I have. I…” Why was he pausing? “Don’t know if I told you, but I’m meeting someone. My fiancé.”

  Privately he couldn’t help being pleased by the way the grin sprang up on her face. “Aww, you’re getting married?” she said before the grin faded with mock exasperation. “I assume you were going to tell me about it at some point.”

  “I just did now, didn’t I?” he smiled. Contact between the two of them recently had been scant. Life had gotten in the way. “It’s a recent thing, I wanted to tell you in person.”

  “Well you did that,” she said, her initial happy smile returning as she leaned over and hugged him. “Congratulations. Even though I’ve still got to meet her.”

  Nick laughed. “Tell you what, I’ll introduce you at some point.”

  “Deal,” she laughed back. “Hey, congratulations, partner. It’s good to know you manned up with it. Well done!”

  Now who was on the verge of sounding condescending, he had to wonder.

  His fears about his hotel being one of the lesser ones on the island had so far proved unfounded. In fact, it was damn good; he had to admit as he stepped into his room, took in the surroundings for the first time, though only Vazaran traditions prevented him sharing a room with his fiancé. Cream coloured walls, queen sized bed just begging to be slept in, huge closets and a walk-in shower big enough to hold four people. He made for the minibar, glanced at the prices and flinched only for a moment before grabbing out a can of soola and cracked it open. At least it was cold. And refreshing.

  He took a moment to savour it, a requirement given the price he’d just paid, enjoying the bitter peppery liquid running down his throat. Looking around the room, he saw the control panel on the wall, moved over to it and started looking through the options until he found the air conditioning. Nick turned it down to the lowest setting, let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit him. He walked over to the window, saw the view of at least two of the island’s stadiums from his balcony. One of them he could see almost down directly onto the battlefield itself. At least if the mood struck him, he wouldn’t have to queue up to get into the stadium for the bouts. He could just sit up here with a beer and watch. Granted it wouldn’t quite be the same as being in the crowd, but you couldn’t have everything.

  Down below him, dozens of people thronged about like ants, all intent on enjoying the resort area of Carcaradis Island, street performers, vendors, dancers and hawkers all out in force. Here on the twentieth floor of the Oceanside, he felt like he’d made it.

  “Not bad,” he found himself saying aloud. “Not bad at all. I could get used to this. I really could.” He put his can down, pulled his bag over and dug out some fresh clothes. Thanks to compression technology, carrying a week’s worth of spare clothes in an average sized travel bag was no problem. Some callers travelled with less, but he’d always felt he had a certain image to maintain.

  It even kept them somewhat neat and devoid of creases by packing them as normal in a special bag and then removing the air from that bag to compress it down to a quarter of the normal size. Nick never liked to spend ages working out what to wear; he chose the dark blue trousers he hoped would be cool in the cloying heat and a purple shirt, laying them out on the bed before stripping his travel gear off. Time to go figure out how to work the shower.

  It hadn’t been as hard as feared, even given his terrible record with domestic technology unfamiliar to him. Coming out of there, he felt somewhat human again. Refreshed and relaxed, he tied a towel around his waist and avoided looking at himself in the mirror. Looking at the old burns and scars on his body always killed his mood. There was one across his side that especially put him off, a great four-inch slash that had long since healed but the feeling about it had never faded.
The one on his cheek he’d grown more accustomed to. Not that he liked the idea of being marked but he’d just grown used to seeing it in the mirror every day. His forearms bore scars, he’d had an encounter with a window some months back. Perils of a dangerous world that would hit you back if you took a swing at it, a reminder to be more careful.

  It didn’t take long for him to shave and dress, the trill of an incoming message on his summoner punctuating the conclusion of his actions. He picked it up, glanced at the text.

  We’re at Willies. Don’t keep me waiting x

  He smirked. Typical, come halfway around the word and you find yourself in a Willie’s. Of course, there would be a Willie’s here. Not that the food was bad, far from it, but you could get it anywhere. Still, he was hungry; he hadn’t eaten on the Wave Crest, and something familiar might go down nicely. His brow furrowed as he read the other part of the message.

  We.

  We’re at Willies? Who was we? That was the question he found himself pondering as he hung his summoner around his neck, pocketed a few credit chips from his earlier winnings and locked the door behind him. Enough to get him by for the evening, the rest locked away in the room’s lockbox. That little mystery aside, so far everything looked so good. He had no complaints about the room, the view was good, and the bed looked inviting. And the tournament was starting soon. What wasn’t to feel good about?

  Willie’s Restaurant had been founded twenty years ago by a man from Canterage called Willie O’Rourke, a chef who’d famously been an argumentative type. He’d been simultaneously blessed with both culinary talent and a short fuse; his food exceptional but his capacity to take exception to those who didn’t approve legendary. After being fired from his previous five employers for offering customers out who hadn’t finished their main courses, he’d decided to open his own place along with a business partner who’d later become his wife. It had been a tricky time, but they’d eventually made success out of the enterprise, franchises all around the five kingdoms now.