Book Read Free

The Great Game

Page 18

by O. J. Lowe


  “Thanks again, Mister Wilsin,” Matt said. It looked like he might be about to say more before the on-board announcement system rang out loud, drowning out anything he might have said.

  “Attention. We will be arriving at Carcaradis Island in fifteen minutes. Can all passengers please ensure they have all their possessions with them upon departure. On a further note, any passengers missing belongings, please report to security before leaving the ship. Numerous items have been recovered and will be returned to you upon departure. On behalf of the captain and crew of the Wave Crest, we thank you for your patronage and hope you’ll travel with Wave Crest United in the future.”

  “Guess they caught the guy,” Mia said. “Lucky huh? Thank you, sir.” She gave him a smile. “My life is in this purse. Literally.”

  Wilsin smiled. “No problem.” It’s what I’m here for. Guess we’ll be getting off soon. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got some stuff to collect.” Yeah that felt the best way to get away. He didn’t want to outstay the welcome. “I’ll be seeing you around probably.”

  And with that, he was away through the crowd, falling deep into the company of his own thoughts.

  Chapter Nine. Sharon Arventino.

  -Welcome to Carcaradis Island. Please make your way through our Arrivals area in an orderly fashion where our ICCC volunteers will attempt to make you feel welcome.

  -DO NOT BUY ANYTHING FROM ANYONE SELLING ANYTHING WITHOUT AN OFFICIAL ICCC SELLERS LICENCE! DOING SO MAY RESULT IN LEGAL ACTION AGAINST BOTH SELLER AND PURCHASER.

  Sign at each of the five docks, seen upon leaving the arrival ships.

  The fourteenth day of Summerdawn.

  “I ever tell you how much I really hate boat travel?” Scott asked, trying to hurry down the gangway amid the crowds of people doing their best to disembark in a quick and orderly fashion. To say it was a complete and abject failure was a lie, he’d been jostled and elbowed several times already. Boat staff stood around directing them away, there were too many people around and it was starting to irritate him.

  Having thousands of people around you was fine when they were screaming your name and willing you to win the bout. They weren’t up in your face then. It wasn’t anywhere near as pleasant when you were stuck in the middle of them and everyone was doing their best to push you along, a thronging surge of a crowd that just wouldn’t let up, people behind him almost pushing the three of them along in one constant stop and start motion across the deck as they hurried to get off.

  “Should have flown,” Pete muttered, jerking his head aside to avoid being caught by the elbow of a tall Burykian. “You know, if it wasn’t massively more expensive. Suppose it’d have been worth it just to not hear you moan all way through the trip.”

  “Hey, I didn’t moan all the way. Just this part,” Scott said defensively. He was feeling the exertions of the trip; he wanted to be back on dry land and off the ocean. His stomach twisted from the rocking of the boat. “Now I know what a suitcase feels like.”

  He felt out for the rail, grabbed it and held tight, sucking in breath as the boat lurched on a heavy wave. Several others did the same. Jess swore angrily as she nearly toppled over. That brought a shout of laughter out of Pete. She shot a glare at him.

  “You’d think they’d have thought this through better,” he said. Thousands might have been exaggerating. Hundreds wasn’t. Hundreds of people coming down off the boat and towards the waiting island, ICCC officials and volunteers that looked to be from all around the five kingdoms stood ready to accept them, some of them had leis and other useless ways of greeting them in the name of the local spirit, some had drinks, some of them were there hawking their wares, everything that the travelling spirit caller would need to get by in life.

  There were, Scott noticed, a stupid number of pretty, young Vazaran girls floating about wearing not much indeed. A nice sight, he had to admit. Plenty of firm dark skin and delicious curves. And they were already having takers there. Some of the new arrivals were taking photos with them, some looked like they were already having the time of their lives, plenty of credits were already changing hands to get new supplies. And it wasn’t just local Vazarans that had come out to sell stuff. It looked like there were peoples there from all over the five kingdoms who were trying to make some easy credits.

  “Container crystals for sale! Cheap! Twelve for the price of ten!”

  “Get your Quin-C t-shirts here, official shirts of the tournament!”

  “Try the local brew, it’ll blow your mind, start your adventure with a bang!”

  “Mugs! Quin-C mugs! Come on, send them home to the family, rub it in that they’re not here!”

  “Upgrades, who wants genuine quality upgrades for low, low prices!”

  “Buy your maps here!”

  “Want to win? Buy my book on crafting golems. Remember, spirits of stone are the only way to stay strong!”

  “Stuff for sale! Poor quality cheaply made stuff for sale! Tell your friends!”

  At least that last guy was probably honest, he had to smile as he heard it. More than a few people were congregating around his stall, checking him out to see if he was as good as his word. Might have been someone in a playful mood. It was the sort of thing his old friend Barry Harrison probably would have done in amid a crowd like this. And then he remembered the two of them weren’t talking anymore and it stung a little.

  Scott jammed his hands in his pockets, deciding he’d heard enough. He wasn’t getting anything. He didn’t need supplies. Although… He reached out, took a lei from a dark skinned Vazaran girl in a bikini top and jean shorts, placing it over Jess’ neck with a grin. She returned the grin, blew him a kiss through full scarlet lips. He tried to avoid looking at the girl he’d taken it from after that, the only thing he really remembered about her was her hair. Blond cornrows mixed together with dark skin wasn’t something you forgot easily apparently. Although she had looked nice in her bikini, there was no denying that.

  “What, nothing for me?” Pete asked with a smirk. He on the other hand had bought a map and was already jamming it into his pocket. Paper wasn’t common anymore but they still had printed the maps on it. The top edges of it overhung, leaving it half in and half out. “Think you probably just got ripped, mate.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Hey, when you start doing certain stuff for me, I’ll start doing stuff like that for you…” he tailed off, shook his head. “Can’t believe I just said that. Must be tired.”

  “Yeah, sleeping on a bench can do that for you,” Pete said rubbing his neck. “I never want to do that again for as long as I can help it.”

  “Look on the bright side, guys,” Jess said brightly. “Really, really luxurious hotels on this island. It’ll make our hotel in Burykia look like a pile of crap. At least until Scott gets us thrown out again for freezing a swimming pool up.”

  Running a hand over his sweating brow, Scott had to shake his head. “Do you realise just how unlikely that is out here? Ice won’t last long. I’ve been in ovens that were colder than this.”

  “You haven’t though, have you?” Pete replied quickly. “Because you’d be covered in bad burns and stuff.”

  “Okay, I’ve been near them then. Besides, it was Pete who froze the pool, not me!”

  “Not the same thing that though, is it?” Pete gave off the impression he was enjoying seeing Scott squirm a little too much, eventually to the point that he shrugged and turned to glance around. He had a habit of doing this, pushing something past the point of being annoying and then abandoning it without a word.

  “So, if this is the port then…”

  “A port. Think there’s like four or five of them around the island,” Jess said. “It looks pretty good so far, right? Very pretty.”

  Below them, the ground had been paved over with a smooth layer of marble that might once have been a pretty shade of snow white. Now however the dust had dulled it to the point it was almost grey. It was easily wide enough to carry the bulk of th
e crowd towards more steps than he wanted to count, leading up a small cliff face. A sign at the bottom told a reader, in a fancy golden lettering, that going up would them would lead to the resort. The sign itself had been posted in the grass, a lone riser above the dark green lawn. Around the edges of the cliff, twin long beds of red, gold, blue and violet plants had been laid giving the place a rich vibrant summertime feel. They could hear seabirds coming away from the cliffs, alien squawks and calls filling the air.

  “Shall we then?”

  If he was honest, Scott was relieved to get away from the dock and up into the island inbound. He hadn’t been lying earlier, he’d never really liked travelling by boat. The sea didn’t hold any delights for him. Maybe it was safer than travelling by aeroship. It undoubtedly was cheaper. But there was just something about it that didn’t sit right with him. He could swim, he just rather wouldn’t if he didn’t have to. Besides if you weren’t near water, you couldn’t drown. It was a statistical probability. No water. No drowning.

  About the only problem now was that the crowds weren’t quite thinning out the further they got away from the boat. If anything, the reverse was true. It felt like they were getting denser and denser. More than once he had to grab Jess’ hand to ensure that she didn’t get lost in the throng of people. He’d felt her stiffen as she’d done it, that felt like a kick to the stomach. More than once he’d wanted to tell her to do one then if she was going to be like that over it.

  “Come on,” he growled. “What’s the big holdup here? They stopped for a break?”

  “Must have,” Pete muttered unsympathetically. He’d found himself stuck behind a big bald man who Scott could hear panting from several feet away following the ascent up the stairs. Must have been a spectator come out. He didn’t look like anyone Scott recognised as a famous spirit caller. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Just that it was more than likely he wasn’t. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to wear leather either. Admittedly, Scott was sweating where he was. In comparison, that guy looked like he’d just gotten out of a shower. “Maybe there’s just a lot of people. You ever think that? Almost like there’s a big tournament on or something. But that might just be crazy talk, I think.”

  “Hey Pete.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re not funny?”

  “Nope. Although just for your information, I was named funniest man in the five kingdoms last year. There was a big award ceremony; I banged three supermodels after it and then did drugs with Carlton Bond in the bathroom. We spent four hours trying to climb up the wall because the floor turned into a sea of rabbits and we didn’t want to step on them. I got a trophy the size a dragon egg and fifty thousand credits to spend how I want in ensuring that laughter never dies. I’m surprised you didn’t see it in the news. So that shows what you know, Scott.”

  “You’re a dick, do you know that?”

  Jess had long since removed her sweater, now she was tying up her shirt under her breasts to expose her stomach. “That’s better,” she sighed, stowing the sweater away in her bag. Privately Scott was amazed she’d taken this long to remove it. Her skin was thick with sweat and her face flushed “I feel slightly cooler now. Can’t wait to get out of here and into the cold.”

  “Out of here?” Scott sounded puzzled. “We’re here for the long haul, love. Not going home anytime soon. Well, Pete might. Me, I’m staying to the bitter end.” He looked at the sky as he said it; already one of the stadiums could be seen over the horizon, protruding into the air like a great silver monument. “Hey, check it out!”

  “Did they ever sort that problem out; you reckon?” Pete wondered. “You remember how back when they first said it was going to be held here they were going to air condition every single seat in the stadium so that nobody felt like their ears were going to melt off?” He grinned as he remembered it. A Quin-C in Vazara? Of course, there’d been a whole amount of usual pre-tournament scare stories, it wouldn’t have been the same without them.

  His favourite had been the potential presence of giant centipedes supposedly to be found in some of the hotels. He hadn’t guessed how that’d bother a spirit caller. Best case scenario there, those unlucky enough to wind up in one of those hotels would probably be unleashing giant mutant centipede on their opponents when it came to the start of the tournament. Idly he found himself wondering how he’d best use one if he happened across it. A spare container crystal rested in his pocket for just such an occasion.

  “I might be doing some melting of my own,” Jess said, shifting her body to avoid walking into a tall woman with a single black strip of hair rising high out of her skull, the combination of heat and moisture flattening it out in some patches. “Wonder how long it takes to get used to this.”

  “Just think, least you’ll be able to chill out on the beach at some point,” Scott said. “I mean, just think. We wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t so awesome.” He ignored Pete’s burst of laughter cutting above the chatter of the crowd briefly. “I’m sure it’s not going to be this overbearing all the time.”

  “This crowd don’t help,” Pete groaned. “You want to just stop? Find a bench somewhere and wait for it to die down. I feel like I’m being digested.”

  Scott ignored him as he continued talking, more for something to do rather than for something to say. “I mean I know we had to leave Burykia pretty quickly but isn’t this better? I get to showcase my skills; you get to chill on a beach or around a pool or something else and Pete gets something else to moan about when he inevitably loses in the first round to some no-mark. What’s the downside here?”

  All while talking, he hadn’t noticed Pete push his way out of the crowd and towards the side, stepping over a flowerbed and out onto an immaculately maintained lawn, Jess already following him. For a moment Scott stayed where he was before he felt the tug on his hand and then he noticed, mentally kicked himself and followed them out. It did feel good to get out of that crush of people. Out of it, the heat wasn’t quite as bad as it had been.

  “Now, where was I?” he asked. “I was just saying…”

  “Don’t, please!” Jess groaned. “You’re giving me a headache.” She dropped her bag down to the ground and dropped down against it with a sigh of relief. “Hey, that’s comfy. Let’s just hang here for a while. We still got something in the flask? Bit thirsty.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Pete said. “Should have got something down at the docks. Could have made a day of it.” He dropped down to the grass and took his pack off, resting his head against it. “Look at them go by. Can’t believe nobody else had this idea. I am so smart.”

  “And modest,” Scott muttered.

  “Screw modesty, I want to be the best. And I want everyone else to know that,” Pete laughed, leaning back to rest his head on the grass, exhaling contentedly. “What’s so wrong with that? You don’t get prizes for second place, do you?”

  “Well you do here,” Scott said. “Runner up gets quarter of a million credits, remember?” He gave Pete a sarcastic smirk, before dropping down onto the grass himself and pulling one of the bags over to him. He slid the zipper back and started rifling through the contents.

  “Suppose we could wait here a while. Let it die down. After all, what’s the big hurry? It’s not like getting up there now will make the tournament start sooner.” He found what he was looking for at the bottom of the bag, one of the flasks filled with water. He took a deep drag of it, made a face at the bitter warmth that gushed down his throat before tossing it over to Jess who caught it one handed. She shot him a glare and then wiped the mouthpiece. Wondering what he was supposed to have done now, he glanced back at Pete who was still staring at the sky.

  “My point is; nobody remembers the loser. I mean, three months from now when it’s all died down and we’re reminiscing about how I won this thing, you think anyone is going to remember the mush who I hardily battered? Nah, they’ll be talking about how masterful I was. And good looking.”


  Jess made a disgusted sound as she closed the flask up. “I wonder why I hang out with you both sometimes. You’re both as bad as each other. You’re both delusional. Neither of you are so good as you can just think you’re going to show up and win. I don’t think anyone here is.”

  “What do you know, you’re not even a caller,” Pete muttered. That turned out to be a mistake as she shot a glare at him. It might have been more effective had he opened his eyes to acknowledge it. Realising that hadn’t worked as she intended, Jess instead opened the flask back up and chucked water over him. Pete sat bolt upright immediately, suddenly soaked and sputtering.

  “I don’t have to have lived in a henhouse to know how to cook eggs, you moron! I’ve seen you both battle before. I probably know your techniques almost as well as either of you do.”

  “And you needed to soak me to prove that point?” Pete demanded. “Honestly, Blake, no need, right? Are you out of your damn mind?” Some of those still in the slow-moving crowd came to a complete halt, suddenly interested in what was going on. A few of them even began to smile. One man even voiced aloud if the organisers had arranged for the entertainment specially.

  Scott wasn’t too worried. He’d seen it before. More than once. Almost to the point it was starting to get ridiculous the way it kept happening. Once or twice you could let go, these days it felt like an argument was ready to break out every other hour. If it wasn’t between Pete and Jess, then it was between him and Jess. Strangely never between him and Pete. Might be the famous last words, but for all their ribbing of each other, and sometimes it had gotten nasty, they’d never had a full out argument with each other. All he was going to do was let the argument run its course. Sooner or later one of them would have to stop for breath. That momentary lull usually was enough to ensure it calmed enough for it to avoid turning nasty. Maybe it was the heat. Tensions running wild and all that.

 

‹ Prev