Romulus nodded, understanding a little more now about past overheard conversations where the "law of The Arena" was mentioned. "And it's all legal?"
"For the most part. Couldn't operate so openly if it wasn't. All the combatants are willing, so the idea's that they know what they're getting into. Twenty or thirty years ago there probably would've been more of a stir about it, but nowadays most people who even bother to think about it just argue that calling it wrong for two willing people to fight under controlled conditions is needless victimization. They're willing, so if they get killed they had it coming is the thinking. And, as I said last night, there aren't many who put up much of a fuss over gangers killing each other if it doesn't affect them."
"And what do you think?" Romulus asked, not quite sure of his own answer to that question.
"In a nutshell? I think it's barbarically Darwinian. While the combatants may be willing, the thrill of the spectators and the betting is deplorable. Draws more people than you might expect, and not just from the quote-unquote lower classes. As for whether it's right to let people considered the dregs of society go at each other with rusty hooks, well, that sort of brings up the question of how they came to be those dregs and just whose fault that is. Not the most cut and dried issue, is it?"
Romulus thought of his own luck. It hadn't been the best, but he couldn't argue that he hadn't had his share of good fortune, either. If he hadn't found Diomedes, he wasn't sure where he'd be now. The images of the beaten vagrant from the previous night entered his mind suddenly, striking him with the sadism of it all and making it hard to feel sorry for the gangers then, regardless of their luck.
They approached the large, renovated warehouse that housed The Arena. Spotlights and neon shone from the exterior walls and pulsed chaos around flat screens displaying scenes from inside that Felix explained were recordings of past matches. Atop the building, looking slightly out of place on the otherwise haphazard, gritty structure, was an enclosed floater lot. When he'd heard that it was their destination, Romulus had thought it odd that a ganger club would have a dedicated floater bay, and he commented on that that to Felix.
"Gangers aren't their entire clientele. More than a few rich types like to watch and gamble on the events, and they like to have a semi-secure place to park their toys," he said. "After all, who do you think owns the place? Some probably even have reserved parking."
"Looks like the lot is full," Romulus noticed aloud as they approached.
"He's still in there or Lifesa—, er, Marc, would've called," Felix told them. "If we circle, we could wait until he leaves and tail him. It's a good bet he doesn't live here."
"Circling attracts attention," Diomedes said. "We'll land somewhere and go in."
"Ah," began Felix, hesitating a bit, "Marc can only keep watch on the area for five or ten minutes. If he leaves after that we might miss him."
"We'll land and go up," Diomedes insisted.
They managed a ground spot a block and a half away. They got out quickly, and while Diomedes showed Romulus how to better hide a holdout weapon, Felix said he'd see what he could do about getting them in quicker at the door. A crazed howling echoed from somewhere in the distance as Romulus watched Felix hurry down the street, anxious to be after him. A moment later, they were.
"What happens if we find him in there?" he asked Diomedes as the two walked quickly towards the noise and lights ahead.
"Depends on who's around when we do." Before Romulus could comment, his mentor spoke again. "Careful. Something's up."
Romulus looked ahead of them to find Felix being surrounded by four men that he assumed to be gangers. They appeared to be talking, but the way they gangers were posturing around the small man was anything but friendly. Diomedes increased his pace to a jog, and Romulus followed instantly.
Before they could cover the full distance, the men sprang on Felix. Romulus thought he saw the glint of a knife in the hand of the one that Felix dodged first. He managed to spin the attacker around into another, but the two behind Felix grabbed his arms and held him back.
He and Diomedes were nearly there, and Felix made eye contact with Romulus, alert but not struggling. Diomedes reached them a split second later and drove the butt of his gun down on the back of the head of one of the two standing in front of Felix, knocking the ganger to the ground and then aiming at one of Felix's captors. Romulus followed, subduing the other freestanding attacker with a one-armed grab him from behind that ended with his gun aimed at the final ganger on Felix's right.
The rescue caught both off guard, and Felix spun down out of their grip a moment later, pistol suddenly in hand. "Now," he said calmly, "I can see you're none too bright so I'll repeat myself and I'll speak slowly this time. Yes, I am curious about the arsons, and what interest is it of yours?"
Romulus looked quickly between the gangers before him and tightened his grip on the one he held. He waited for any answer, realizing now that this was no random mugging. The two he could see glanced at each other nervously. They were twins, matching further in their shaved heads, tattoos, and multiple piercings. He didn't spare a look for the one Diomedes had knocked down, and all he could tell about the one he held was that he stank of alcohol and funk. He wanted to ask Felix what happened, but in that split second he sensed Diomedes's own silence, and decided to remain powerful and quiet. The man in his grip wasn't moving. Filled with adrenaline from the rescue, Romulus wasn't about to let him.
"Nothin', man!" His eyes were locked on the barrel of the gun Diomedes had on him. "It ain't our business—we just screwed up—"
"You guys looking for some fun?" the other spoke up. "Man, I've got this friend—she could give it to all of you—just—"
"Shut up!" Felix pushed his gun against the back of the second man's skull. "Yeah, you screwed up—you really fuckin' screwed up. You forgot to look out for my friends here, and that's a mistake that might give you a new hole to shit through." Romulus was surprised at Felix's language, but kept silent. "Now the next words out of your mouths had better be an explanation, or my large friend with the two free hands is going to get angry."
Diomedes's gun pressed to the first ganger's temple to punctuate Felix's point.
"Geez, man, we thought you were someone else!" he cried.
The sharp flutter of a siren cut through the conversation before anyone could respond. As red and blue light reflected off of the gangers' faces, Romulus saw his mentor pull his gun down quickly. Felix did the same. Romulus jumped and let go of his captive, turning around to look. A police car had turned the corner and was passing by the crowded entrance to The Arena.
A moment later there was a sudden shuffling and Romulus sensed movement behind him as his mentor swore. He turned to see all four gangers bolting into the alley. Romulus looked to his mentor, panicked and frustrated. "What do we do?" he asked urgently.
"Shut up and act natural."
"I doubt they saw us," Felix said as the police car rolled by. "That was probably just something to keep everyone in the area in line. Cops won't normally go in The Arena, but they do patrol from time to time." Romulus looked, frustrated, down the alley where the gangers were fleeing. He wanted to follow, but Diomedes wasn't moving.
"They're gone, Flynn," Felix told him. The squad car continued by without stopping.
"But we can't just stand here—"
"They'd lead us straight into an ambush," Diomedes grumbled. "They can go to hell. Our target is there." He pointed to the floater lot. "We're just wasting time now. C'mon."
They turned and continued towards the entrance. "Funny thing," Felix said as they neared it. "They only asked about the arsons. Didn't say a word about our 'Wraith.'"
"Same thing," Diomedes said.
"I don't know. I wish we'd had them a little longer."
"Would you really have shot them if they hadn't talked?" Romulus asked.
"Of course not!" Felix replied. "But I didn't want them to think that."
"Never bluff," Diomede
s said.
"Oh, now I wouldn't agree with that. . ." Felix said.
Diomedes looked at Romulus. "Stay alert." Despite wanting to ask more, Romulus nodded and focused.
A short while later, after making their way through the crowd of people talking, yelling and just generally milling about mindlessly in front of the entrance, they were inside. Felix had briefly talked to the bouncer, a staggeringly large man—larger even than Diomedes—with two immense red chrome arms and a matching skullcap that covered him from the brow on back. Romulus didn't make out what Felix said to the man; it was much too loud and Romulus was too focused on the people pressed against him by the crowd, but he guessed it was a combination of familiarity and the cash Felix pressed into his metal hands that allowed them in so quickly.
A steel stairway stretched up along the side of the building and they climbed it to the heavy door at the second story. A moment later Romulus followed Felix inside to see the club stretch out below them. Everything below was bathed the violent light of flashing red, pulsing strobes and harsh yellows. Everything above was mired in darkness. They were on a catwalk that looked to run the width of the building. Smaller walkways spread out over the center where people sat, walked, or dangled. Harsh retro-grunge rock filled the place, pumped out by a band somewhere out of view below. A wild yell to their left, audible over the grating music due only to its ferocity, jerked Romulus's attention fast enough to give him a glimpse of a half naked figure dive from the catwalk into a mosh pit below. His fall triggered a brief fist fight that ended when the topless man fell beneath the mass of jostling bodies.
Straight ahead of them, the catwalk continued towards a doorway leading to a large section of the second story. The section was closed off from the open air of the catwalks. It appeared to run the width of the building. It was toward this door that Felix was taking them.
"The way to the garage is through there!" he yelled over his shoulder.
Moving beyond the door, they found themselves in a small, clean hallway that had Romulus blinking with its unexpected brightness in comparison to the previous room. It led to a T-intersection, from the top of which faced an elevator. The door closed behind them, blocking out most of the music enough for Romulus to hear the noise of cheering and cursing that seemed to come from other doors down the corridors to the left and right. Combat arenas, he guessed. They walked to the elevator and stopped.
"Normally," said Felix, fishing in his pocket, "you can only use the elevator with a card you get when you land upstairs."
He took a few cards out and thumbed through them, comparing each to some markings on the card reader. "But," he continued, selecting one, "I hate being normal." The card slid in, and after a moment, they were inside watching the doors close as a sudden wild cheering rose over a shriek from down the hallway.
Moments later the doors were opening on the floater garage. "Split up," Diomedes ordered. "Yell if you find it."
Romulus moved off to the right, checking the landing spaces and trying to plan for what he would do if he found both the floater and its owner. He checked the weight of his gun and made a note to scan for cameras like Diomedes had taught him. He saw none—in fact, he saw no other people or even an attendant. He guessed the garage was automated. All he heard were his own footsteps and the occasional sound that he was forced to attribute to the others. All he saw were floaters that were not the type he was looking for.
Though bigger than he would have expected, it wasn't a large garage, and a minute or two later he had met up with Felix and Diomedes at the elevator.
"He's gone," said Felix, stating the obvious. Romulus dropped his guard and found himself feeling a bit of thankfulness mixed with his frustration. The sensation was bothersome. Was he a coward, or just unsure of himself? He didn't like either possible answer.
"We took too long!" Diomedes grumbled.
"He couldn't have left too long ago," Romulus told them.
Diomedes turned to Felix. "Call your friend. Now. Find him again."
Felix scowled and looked as if he would say something in protest, but instead merely pulled out his phone and turned away.
Romulus glanced about the garage. There were more vehicles than he would have expected. "Why was he here, I wonder?"
"Gangers," said his mentor.
"He didn't attack any."
"We don't know that."
Just then Felix turned back to them. "He's not answering."
"Why not?" Diomedes demanded. "Where did he go?"
Felix shrugged.
"Tell me!" he shouted, stepping forward and nearly making Romulus jump.
Felix pulled back as well. "How the hell do I know? He does have obligations, you know, he's not just going to sit around all night to serve you. And even if I had gotten him and he had time to comb the city again, he couldn't find him instantly." Felix paused as the two men watched each other's gaze. "I asked him to call when he gets in. So just relax. In the meantime I advise we follow your protégé's suggestion and see what we can find out about why he was here."
Diomedes turned back towards the elevator. "Stay together."
Romulus went after him, followed by Felix. "Come on, Diomedes, cheer up," the small man said plainly. "This place is violent. You'll like it."
They rode the elevator back down, briefly discussing where to look and unofficially deciding to just move around the club a bit, keeping their eyes and ears open. Romulus was a little dismayed at their lack of direction, but it didn't appear that they had much choice, and Felix told him not to underestimate the benefit of pure observation.
They came out onto the catwalk, once again surrounded by the noise. This time, led by Diomedes, they squeezed their way down the stairs into the main level to find that the view from the catwalk had actually been quite obstructed, and a good deal more of the place was now visible. Some was still obscured by small dividing walls or hanging sheets of wire mesh that some were climbing on, but Romulus could now see a small stage where the grating music pumped through the speakers had its source. Bars and mosh pits were also scattered randomly around the place, but there was one area that, from the distance, did not seem to hold anyone or anything at all. After a few moments he could tell that it was a deeper pit, but could only guess at what was in it. The chaos of the activity around him only mirrored his own feelings of what seemed to be the pattern of their search: they'd missed a chance, and they were lost again.
Diomedes was leading them to the nearest bar along one side of the club when he stopped and stared angrily across the place. For a moment he said nothing. Romulus tried to see who or what his mentor was glaring at, but Diomedes was taller than he, and the place was much too crowded for him to determine the object of his mentor's ire.
"Wait for me at the bar," Diomedes told them. A moment later he was off.
Felix and Romulus crossed the short distance to the bar, managing to avoid eye contact and arrive unmolested. They were almost immediately attended to, or at least glared at, by the bartender: a tall, gangly woman with a short cut of brilliant blue hair.
"What're the one-on-ones tonight?" Felix asked immediately.
The woman raised an eyebrow at them and gestured with a sneer to the screen behind her where a list of color-coded names and gang affiliations were displayed that Romulus took to be a list of duels and results. Beside the names were references to what he figured were the names of arenas or combat types—names like "Free Fight," "The Pit," "Rip and Tear." As Romulus watched, two names next to the last listing changed from their previous blue: one to red, one green. Numbers sprang up beside them that he guessed to be somehow related to gambling payoffs. For a moment he was curious as to how to read the numbers until the knowledge of the "sport" they were attached to reasserted itself.
Suddenly Felix nudged him, and he realized the bartender had asked him what he wanted. He shook his head in the noise and mumbled a "no thanks."
The woman scowled at him before she caught sight of something behind h
im. Glaring furiously, she pulled a shotgun from under the bar and fired into the ceiling. Even before the shot's retort had ended she yelled out, "No goddamn guns!" Romulus looked behind him in the direction she had shouted. A man and woman stood a short distance behind him. Each aimed a weapon at the other. The bartender lowered the shotgun at them both.
"No guns!" she repeated. "You want to fuckin' shoot each other you take it to the dueling range or you take it outside!" She motioned with the gun. "Right now or I do you both!"
They both glared back at her for only a second, then lowered their own guns and moved away until the crowd and noise swallowed them. The bartender cursed after them and then moved to answer a shout for a beer.
Felix laughed beside him in what sounded like relief. "Great service here, eh?" He glanced up at the screen behind the bar. "No unaffiliated fights tonight," he continued. "No one not in a gang, I mean. I wondered if maybe our guy came to fight."
Romulus took a moment to regain his bearings. The bartender returned and slid Felix a clear drink, which the man sipped at while Romulus tried to refocus on the job.
"Maybe he did—just not officially," said Romulus.
"I'm almost glad we didn't find him," Felix remarked. "I'm increasingly less confident about what you've been told by whoever hired you." Romulus wasn't sure what to say to that. Felix shrugged. "Part of it's just a gut feeling," he said. "Part of it's not. You heard what I said before about certain things we know about him not meshing with the arsons. And now after being jumped by those guys. . ."
"They jumped you because you were asking about him, right?" Romulus asked over the din. "Sounds like we're on the right track."
"No," said Felix, "they didn't. They only mentioned the arsons. Nothing about our 'Wraith' or even an arsonist. Diomedes made that leap of logic. While it's possible that they may have been trying to protect him, that certainly wasn't the feeling I got."
Something occurred to Romulus. "And they jumped you, not Diomedes or me. You're the one he hasn't seen. That we know of."
A Shadow in the Flames (The New Aeneid Cycle) Page 18