by O. J. Lowe
Either way, that was in the past and the future was just a short walk ahead. He wasn’t upset by his detainment; he’d found himself wanting to savour some of the scenery around as he walked up the path to the resort area. Last thing he particularly wanted to happen was be punted along by a group of people trying to get there in record time. Mark had gone on ahead. Wade had made comments about having elsewhere to be and had flown off on one of his dragons, the sight of the great beast drawing comments from watching people who should really know better. Seeing them WAS getting rarer in the wild, but there were still those who used them in calling. It wasn’t that an unusual thing.
Still, Wade’s dragons were an impressive sight. Even the smallest of them were larger than most, powerfully ferocious in a fight and almost impervious to all but the strongest of attacks. He remembered the first time he’d fought him. He’d almost pissed himself, not knowing what was about to come. The one and only time in his career.
Either way, he was alone but for a few stragglers. He’d been curious about the island, not least in why the tournament was being held here, but the guidebook had been surprisingly sparse on the subject. Given it had only really come to prominence in the build up to this tournament, he couldn’t really be too surprised. A lot of the stuff had felt like filler as to the sights here. Oh look, odd rock formations. Beware the killer natives, they’ll probably try to eat you. It was probably out of date now anyway. Now that Reims had built their resort, there was more than likely going to be a whole raft of new pages devoted to the place. Besides, he’d been here all of ten minutes and hadn’t seen one killer native. That alone counted as a plus.
While here, best to make the most of it all, he thought. Not like I’m probably going to get back here on my own credits. He’d seen a provisional price list for a stay here when the Quin-C finished. His eyes were still watering at the sight. He’d taken the top prize at six big tournaments in the last two years and he might be able to afford a weekend in a cabin on the beach with no running water, bathroom facilities or any other sort of amenities.
Still, on first impressions, Carcaradis Island wasn’t an unpleasant place. He could hear the chirp of seabirds out of sight, maybe nestled in the cliffs high and erect towards the left of the dock, the entire coastline of the island undulating upwards. If he gazed long enough, he was certain he could make out tiny specks of white and grey amidst the rock. It wasn’t a sound he recognised.
A new species? Probably not. Chances were some hopeful would already have tried to claim one before the week was out. Even if they were small, that was no indication of potential. After all, he had some experience with what a little genetic experimentation could wreak with even the most unlikely of creatures, both personal and second hand. After so long, it became second nature. Sometimes he even found himself glancing at wildlife on his travels, thinking about potential improvements that could be wrought upon the unsuspecting creature.
An acquaintance had once said that making the Gene-isizers 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 compared to some of the people he’d known.
He could see the point though. At the same time, he’d realised how flippantly irrelevant the comment was. The weak or the stupid tended not to get very far in the sport. It took natural selection to a whole new level. Fluking it could only get so far.
Lost in his thoughts and the new surroundings, he hadn’t been paying attention to the few people walking the now quiet road up into the heart of the island. Not until he saw someone halt in front of him, only reflexes honed through years of spirit calling and other duties had stopped him from crashing into the back of her. Yeah, probably a her. 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 probably quite attractive. He knew guys that wouldn’t say no. And yet, he would be one of the ones to politely refuse, even if she felt that way in return. Which almost certainly she didn’t. They’d shared too much in the past to be anything other than friends. They’d been through experiences that had cemented that friendship, Danger tended to do that. He didn’t want to ruin that. Sex came and went. People you could rely on when things were going bad, they were infinitely harder to come by. He’d seen that inscrutable smirk before, the one where she gave the impression she was grinning at something funny you just 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.”
“Nick 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 when it was on, nothing 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, in fairness to her, the spirits she had used were more than capable, they were hardy enough in a bout. 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.”
Nick wasn’t about to tell her he was impressed. And worried. The Vazaran leagues weren’t quite as tightly monitored as those in the other four kingdoms. While nothing had ever quite been proven, there was always the hint of something ugly about to brew 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 nothin
g 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.
“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.
“That’s nice of you,” she said. “You headed up to the hotels?”
“That’s exactly was where I was going. 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 up in surprise. He’d seen that expression before under far less ideal circumstances than these.
“Oh yeah, super busy. Well, if you want to go far, anyway. There’s 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, she’d kept 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 face and 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 caught a mental glimpse of 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. If ever.
“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, glancing around their surroundings. The resort looked every bit as fancily exclusive as he’d imagined it probably would. Not a drop of litter existed floating around the area, a trio of hotels flanked 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 like 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 down onto it, out of their travelling clothes and into something more appropriate for the conditions.
Slowly the square 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 that were slowly 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 or something, the man’s shirt looking especially crisp white against his dark skin. He’d shaved his head entirely 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 that did a poor job of hiding his chin. He carried a clipboard 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 currently competing here right now? It wasn’t too common a name for there to be two wandering around 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. “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 here were probably better than the ones most people would ever stop in.
“Down there, second right and it’s the big one with Oceanside written on it,” the rep grunted. Already Nick felt like an afterthought, he was glancing at Lysa’s tanned legs with more interest than he’d given the clipboard. Doubtless he’d be the only one in the next few weeks to do that. Doubtless he’d be the only one in the next few hours.
“Thanks,” he said. The lack of attention suited him just fine. It meant he didn’t have to waste time with idle chatter. Not when he was running a little late to start with. He glanced at the time on his caller. 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 amused tone in her voice.
“Regretting not wearing a tighter shirt,” Nick replied, unable to quite 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. Or it was his beard, couldn’t tell.”
“Yeah but you’ve got to dream, right?” Lysa said wistfully once she’d finished smiling politely. “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 probably could have planned better. His sleeve came back dark with moisture. He still stood by the opinion it felt hotter than normal. A lot hotter.
“Yeah,” he said. “I have. I…” Why was he pausing? “I 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 a scant thing. “It’s a recent thing and I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well you did that
,” she said, her initial happy smile returning as she leaned over and hugged him. “Congratulations. Who is she?”
“Hey, don’t ruin all the surprises,” 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 found someone. Well done!”
Now who was on the verge of sounding a little condescending, he had to wonder.
His fears about his hotel being one of the lesser ones on the island had so far proved to be unfounded. In fact, it was damn good; he had to admit as he stepped into his room and took in the surroundings for the first time. 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 cracking it open. At least it was cold. And refreshing.
He took a moment to savour it, 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 on there until he found what he was looking for, the air conditioning. Nick turned it down to the lowest setting and let out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit him. He walked over to the window, saw he had a view of at least two of the stadiums on the island from his room. 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 whatever bout was taking place there. He could just sit up here with a beer and watch. Granted it wouldn’t quite be the same as being there in the crowd, but you couldn’t have everything.