by R. E. Carr
“It will give me the power to kill that Knight? The power to better protect the Serif-fan?”
“The emotions you feel will be synthesized, and you will not be able to control them.”
“Ji-ann was willing to die for me, Voice. The debt I owe to her is perfectly real.”
“I think I have a substitute for subservience. I must replace the field in the program with something an emotional matrix recognized as equally controlling as slavery.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can integrate the emotion into your existing personality. It will be a challenge . . .”
“And then I will be able to remember how to kill a Knight?”
“I will bring Yeiwa’s program to completion. Please awaken and inform Thixix that we need to interface. I will then download a virus into your psyche while you sleep. When you wake up, you will no longer be the Kei you are currently.”
“It is a small price to pay for revenge.”
“You still express many of the Beast Tribe’s extreme views, even though you are a hybrid organism. How . . . intriguing. I will make the modifications. Now provide my host, Jenn, with more of your parasitic cultures.”
Kei snapped awake, startling the doctor. “Please, Machine Man, the voice in Ji-ann’s head needs to talk to you,” Kei said. “You must also take more of my blood.”
Thixix worked quickly, preparing more serum while keeping a hand plastered to Jenn’s forehead. Finally, he prepared a different mix in the syringe, this one a viscous green mixture.
“CALA is instructing me to inject this tracer. Pilots use it when they need Operators to guide them. It will help program find the proper receptor in brain,” Thixix said. “You will feel no pain.”
Kei closed his eyes. “Good-bye,” he whispered. He then bent over and kissed Jenn on the cheek.
Thixix injected the needle into Kei’s neck. He fought back a grimace and raised a trembling hand toward the gem. “Winowa, I am sorry. Saikain, I am sorry too. I have only one purpose right now: to protect the Serif-fan.”
As his hand touched the gem, red energy coursed up from the cysts on his arm. His eyes changed from feline to metallic, and then he passed out.
“These are magnificent,” Eon said as he opened Dailyn’s leather case. A pair of lustrous chitin-and-metal forearm guards was entwined on a pad of silk. Dailyn took another drink before answering.
“They are nearly as old as Arondight. These bracers are harder than steel. We think they will protect your friend well in the arena, don’t you?”
“How can he wear these when he’s only allowed one weapon?” Eon asked.
The Knight smiled. “There are no rules about changing clothing before entering the arena, and since armor is allowed and considered clothing . . .”
“I see,” Eon said. “I just hope I’ll have enough time in the morning to teach him how to use them. However, I will have to return these once the tournament is over, won’t I?”
“Consider them a gift.”
“But, sir, I could not accept these. I know what this shell is. It’s the carapace of those ancient bug mummies found only to the far south. This chitin is more valuable than gold—”
“But forearm guards such as these are much more useful to a bare-hands fighter than a swordsman.”
“A gift such as this would almost seem like a payment. My people often trade weapons and rare metals for our Phantom’s services.”
Dailyn smiled sadly. “Do they?” he asked.
“These bracers could even buy the life of a nobleman,” Eon said, looking the Knight in the eyes.
“We guess we will have to give them to you anyway, our good Westerner. Now, we are tired and wish to retire. If you need anything, our servants will attend to you. You and your Commoner companion have rooms prepared.”
Eon slid on the shell bracers and admired the fit. The iridescent blue-black surface reflected the firelight in eerie rippling patters, as if the surface was somehow still alive.
“I’m sorry, Ji-ann. Please forgive the breaking of a vow, but it is better for me to rot in hell than to send you to heaven before your time,” he sighed before packing up the bracers and heading for the stairs.
Kei woke up to a soft voice calling his name. As he opened his eyes, he could make out Winowa leaning over him. He grabbed his head and groaned.
“My head hurts,” he mumbled as he struggled to get up.
His joints cracked and popped. He stretched a few times before finally looking down at the sleeping Ji-ann.
“Thixix went to sleep. I took the opportunity to let some sun in the room, Lord Kei,” Winowa said. “I’ve already cleaned up the Serif-fan, but you look quite dreadful.”
Kei scratched at his ears, picking away crusty patches of dried blood. His upper lip was stained as well, and as he rubbed his eyes he noticed that his hands felt slightly sticky. Winowa handed him a rag. “Thanks,” he said with a weak smile.
“Um, Lord Kei . . . ,” Winowa started.
“What is it?”
Winowa began to make herself busy. “It’s nothing.”
“I heard a voice in my head last night too. Oh spirits, I am turning into Ji-ann,” he moaned, falling onto the floor.
“There is no way you can fight today. You need to bow out of the tournament,” Winowa started. “Kei?”
“I will fight. I will hurt that damn Knight.”
“Kei? What are you talking about? You know as well as I that no Knight has ever lost in a fair fight against any other tribe. Even your father—”
“My father was not fighting to avenge the woman he loved,” Kei snarled.
“Kei . . . ?”
“I am sorry, Winowa, but it is perfectly clear to me now. If she dies and I have done nothing to avenge her, she will haunt the world as a restless spirit—just like my brother and all the others who have died without compensation from the living.”
Winowa turned away from him and began soaking Ji-ann’s new bandages with antiseptic. “You should go get ready to fight, then. I’ll take care of the Serif-fan until you return,” her voice broke as she forced out the words.
“Winowa . . .”
“You need to get ready.”
“I . . .”
“You don’t want to see the wound. Go on.”
Without another word, Kei kissed Ji-ann’s hand and walked out the door.
“Jenn? Are you able to respond, Jenn?”
“CALA? Where am I? What happened?” Jenn groaned inside her head.
“You have been unconscious for several hours. You have suffered a severe stab wound and blood loss.”
“Kei? Is he all right? That guy was going to—”
“Kei is quite worried about you. When we were unsure of your prognosis, he decided to extract revenge from the person who attacked us.”
“Oh God, what’s he doing? That guy had a big sword and a bad attitude.”
“You will not like this, Jenn.”
“Tell me!”
“Kei and I linked. I managed to alter the mental programming in his head and then force the program to complete its cycle.”
“You brainwashed him!”
“He underwent the change voluntarily. It was the only way to break the mental walls Yeiwa—”
“You fucked with his mind so he could be a kick-ass warrior and avenge us? News flash! I am not dead and thus need not be avenged!”
“Your body is still in a state of extreme shock. You have been injected with a serum containing the parasitic organisms from Kei’s blood. These technorganic creatures are currently under my control. They have stationed themselves in your chest and are accelerating the synthesis of blood cells in your body.”
“I’m infected with a parasite? CALA!”
“It was the only way. Your blood type does not exist in any of the specimen
s we have encountered on this planet yet. A transfusion would have killed you. Kei’s parasites take great pains to keep their host alive.”
“Am I going to live?”
“Your condition is improving, but I am unsure what sort of long-term side effects this treatment may produce.”
“Oh God,” was all Jenn could say. “So . . . what exactly did you do to Kei?”
“Many of his aggressive tendencies have been leveled out. His jealousy and irrational resentment of other males has also been reduced. All in all, the personality changes are merely reducing his stress level. They are ultimately beneficial.”
“I know that tremor in your synthesized voice, CALA. What are you ‘forgetting’ to tell me?”
“I do not forget to tell you anything, Jenn. I have three sublevels of redundant memory banks to ensure that—”
“Then what are you choosing to omit from your little update, hmm?”
“I substituted one variable for another in Yeiwa’s program. Instead of Kei being completely subservient to you, I found a way for him to maintain a more natural mental state and still have utter loyalty to you, thus fulfilling Yeiwa’s original intent.”
“CALA!”
“Your husband is now completely in love with you.”
“You . . . You made him fall in love with me?”
“It was the most natural emotion to use. He already had some feelings toward you. I merely accelerated the progress.”
“How could you do that, CALA? He’s a person, not a machine, and you just took over his emotions, broke . . . broke him down. Who gave you the right to do that?”
“He did. I warned him of the consequences and he still underwent the procedure.”
“Why? Why would Kei do this?”
“I think his feelings for you were stronger than either of you realized. Furthermore, could I ask you a question? Why would you endanger yourself to save the life of another? What gave you the right to decide that his life was more important than your own?”
“I . . . I don’t know, CALA. It’s not a right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I will confirm that statement.”
“I guess I’ve finally outgrown my selfish streak. I’ve seen so many people die around me, and I couldn’t take it anymore. For a second, I just jumped.”
“You did not begin with this selfless streak? You have acquired it?”
“I guess so. Lord knows, I wouldn’t have done this back on Earth. At least I don’t think I would have done it. I mean, Kei has suffered so much.”
“So, you care about him?”
“Uh . . .he’s . . . I’ve been stuck with him for so long now that I guess I have gotten comfortable with him, but it’s not like I love him or anything. We . . . we just sleep together, and travel together, and are friends. Yeah, I guess we have become friends now.”
“Whatever you say, Jenn. I am pulling myself offline and letting you rest now.”
“Please, can you stay with me for a while, CALA? I’m—I’m scared.”
“Then I will stay and we will talk for a while.”
“Thank you, CALA. You know, you’ve become the best friend I’ve had since coming here.”
Eon squinted, trying to get a better look at the two fighters circling in the ring. Winowa wrung her hands next to him. The last of the semifinal competitors danced their deadly waltz in the arena.
Eon artfully dodged a spray of ale from a drunken spectator, then turned to Winowa. “I bet the odds-makers down by the docks are going crazy right now,” he said.
Winowa kept her eyes locked on the panting gray man in the arena. “Eon, why doesn’t he submit? I thought he only—”
“Unfortunately, the person who made our original bargain is dead. Our only hope now is that he can finish off this pathetic excuse for a Knight and get on to the finals.”
“Pathetic? He’s mauling Kei!”
“No, he’s not,” Eon said, squinting more. “Damn, I wish I could see well. That Sir Gilliam is nothing more than a skilled copycat. I can tell by his archaic moves that he is merely remembering what his ancestors did. Once Kei pulls out something original, this opponent is sure to be defeated.”
“I wish I had your confidence. Oh no! Kei’s been cut!”
“Relax. He’s still on his feet, isn’t he? It can’t be that bad.” Eon looked up to the royal box. “I wonder if it’s the Baroness’s winning personality that has lowered the caliber of competitor here.”
Winowa ignored Eon’s musings and continued to grip the railing with white knuckles. Over and over again, Kei was forced to retreat, raising his arm guards to deflect a rain of sword strikes from Sir Gilliam. The Knight cackled with delight as Kei dropped to one knee. Winowa screamed as the Knight’s sword came down.
In a flash, it was over. The crowd went utterly silent. Sir Gilliam’s sword fell a few feet away, several of his fingers still attached to the hilt. He screamed and stumbled back from the blood-streaked Beast. Kei’s claws and the edge of his new forearm guards dripped with blood. The sheer force of his next strike sent Sir Gilliam flying, his ribs cracking audibly. The Knight flailed on the ground for a few minutes before calling out.
“Surrender!”
Kei stood in the center of the silent arena, licking the blood from his fingers. In the Beast Tribe language, he offered thanks to the Great Leopard and to the Lost God.
“He won!” Winowa gasped, finally sitting back in her seat.
“I told you once he pulled something different, he would win. Sir Gilliam is lucky to be limping out of here with only some broken ribs and missing digits. Those bloody blobs attached to the sword were fingers, weren’t they?”
Winowa nodded.
“Only one fight to go,” Eon said. The first strains of applause began rippling through the audience. Winowa noticed a conspicuous band of men in long coats who did not clap at all. In the royal box, the normally pallid and proper-looking Baroness Lenexa was scowling, red-faced, at her champion.
In the arena, Kei stared, dumbfounded, at the group of healers carrying his former opponent out on a stretcher. One of the medics ran over to him and checked the scrape on his side. Kei winced as the doctor wiped it clean, then walked away.
His ears perked up when he heard the name Ajero being called. He checked the straps on his bracers. A woman in a red dress glared at him from the stands.
“I am afraid I must kill your son,” Kei growled.
The woman looked at the tall, strawberry-blond man beside her. He only shrugged.
The woman stood and called out the final pair. Across the field, a portcullis opened. Kei dropped into his ready stance.
The Knight strode in with cocky ease. Although he had fought as many battles as Kei, neither sweat nor blood marred his noble face. He flipped his braid of brown hair lazily.
He called out something that sounded insulting. Kei just stood there. The Knight drew his sword and looked over to the royal box.
Baroness Lenexa stood and smiled, tilting her hand to the throng. She proclaimed her orders, and both Kei and Ajero bowed.
The Knight struck first. Kei blocked with ease. The match rapidly turned into a game of duck and dodge, each competitor looking for an opening. Kei played it safe, keeping his guards raised, never attempting a strike.
“Nij mau, Beastae,” Ajero taunted.
“I will not play your game,” Kei snarled.
The Knight flipped his sword from his left hand to his right and completely changed his posture. Kei wavered slightly, giving the Ajero a chance to strike. The Beast-Man roared as steel cut into his shoulder. He ducked low, attempting the strike at the Knight’s guts, but his claws were knocked back by steel.
Kei could hear the Knight’s laughter. He stumbled. The sword was once again poised to strike.
“Ji-ann!” he howled, his voice changing into a roar.
In a blind fury, Kei began thrashing out with each and every one of his limb
s. Ajero swung low. He jumped. The Knight struck high, and Kei twisted back into an inhuman position.
Time and time again, the Knight tried to hit Kei, but Ajero simply couldn’t read where the Beast would move next. Finally, Ajero settled on forcing Kei to keep reacting, exhausting the Beast-Man.
The crowd squealed as Kei began running on all fours, scrambling around the slower Knight. The Beast-Man even scurried up the walls of the arena, making Ajero strike his sword against stone.
“Gai!” Ajero cried in frustration. Sweat dribbled from his brow.
Kei still did not attack. No matter how many times the Knight screamed insults or struck at him, Kei continued his acrobatics.
The crowd cheered at the display. Some even laughed at the Knight’s frustration. As the laughter rose, Kei howled. His fangs grew longer in his mouth.
Ajero howled as well. He stood, wheezing, in the dead center of the arena, pointing his blade at a maniacally laughing cat-man.
Kei finally hopped down from the railing. He wiped the sweat casually from his forehead. He stopped to adjust his forearm straps. Ajero’s sword wavered as Kei sauntered toward him.
“You played the wrong game, Ajero,” Kei hissed.
Ajero swung his sword. Kei flipped up a hand and knocked the blade back. Exhausted, the Knight tried to counter, but Kei turned to his side and dodged.
“Vengeance!” Kei snarled.
He let Ajero strike, catching the sword between the back of his hand and the extension of his forearm guards. Sparks flew from the blade as Kei slid toward the trapped Knight. As his claws struck for the throat, Ajero let go of his hilt. Kei smiled.
The sword flew up in the air and landed in Kei’s hand. He twisted around sharply and drove the point into the same spot in Ajero’s side where Ji-ann had been struck. His ornate armor meant nothing to the master-forged steel. Kei then raked his claws crisscross over the Knight’s face, slashing into both eyes.
He looked up to the royal box, where a furious Baroness screamed to her guards. Beside her, her champion Dailyn strapped on his sword. Kei took a few wary steps back. As the medics dragged another bleeding Knight out of the arena, Dailyn leaped in. His eyes rolled back and a weird voice poured from his throat. He began speaking the language of the Beasts.