“Worried about me?”
“At a simple point, yes, sir. It’s the one event that puts you directly in harm’s way. Not to mention it has you killing for sport.”
“If it was a true fight to the death, there wouldn't be repeat contestants now, would there?”
“I think it all depends on what the crowd wants to see. But, I suppose you have a point.”
“What about you, Dill? When Kim first pitched this whole crazy thing to me, you were on the other side of the fence. Now you're able and willing.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I just thought I'd do whatever I could to help you out. It’s my job to watch your arse and you’re not making it easy for me. This investigation just gets deeper and deeper. After all, you’ve had to put up with enough of my shit.”
“Relax, Dill. I’m glad it’s you at my back down here.” Dill smiled. After spending enough time with him, the Martian proved to be good company. “We are the only form of civilized law down here. Did Speakeasy brief you on the race?”
“Yeah, and it sounds promising. After Sol-Fate, we're to meet with Hugo, an engineering prodigy who designed the bike we're racing. Fastest built, apparently, and it has a perfect warp booster. No hang-ups, no lag, excellent speed, and ninety-percent guaranteed not to blow up.”
“Wow. That does sound promising,” McKenna scoffed.
“Can’t be choosy, right? I'll take it easy and stay collective. Six of the nine teams have never raced anything higher than exhibition races. None of them are pro.”
“And the others?”
“Pros. A Wargame team, The Headless Widows, and two Hasker teams. The Blue Windigos and Team Gideon, whom we’ve met with a dashing first impression, but I’m not too worried about any of those blokes. If our warp engine holds, it'll give us longer boosts than any other team. That will be our edge. Sound, don’t you think?”
“Oh, your confidence gives me confidence, Dill.”
As they walked, Ripper started barking at a large structure in front of them. McKenna and Dill both looked up, previously oblivious to the mammoth object. They stared upon an old walker assault unit, two stories high.
“What is that thing…?” Dill said as he gazed up.
“An MPI War-Hound, assault walker,” McKenna said, smiling.
The walker resembled a dog-like structure with four legs and a blocky head. It was one of the late Martian military’s more blunt instruments, as they often charged into combat with their equipped cannons and beam weapons.
The one before them was intact, despite the Council’s order of destruction. The original blue Martian finish was gone, now replaced by rustic red schemes, various chains, and graffiti decorating the hull. McKenna looked at the feet of the War-Hound to see Wargame conscripts loitering around it. Wargame must have gotten ahold of the valuable Martian weapon sometime after the war.
“I’m surprised to see one still serviceable,” McKenna said. Ripper tilted his head as he looked at the familiar structure of the walker.
“Wargame may come across cheap and hasty, but he’s got the pull to get one of those things,” Dill said as he looked high above him at the walker. “Just has to show it off too.” He looked to McKenna who was shaking his head at the sight. “Something wrong?”
“I heard that Wargame allied with the Golden Bough,” McKenna said. “If Wargame has weaponry like this, the Council needs to treat this very seriously. This is shaping to not be just a cloak and dagger case anymore. Plus, that little incident near the entrance makes me suspicious that Wargame is planning something.”
“We can inform the Council, but you know how they treat the gang problems.”
“Yeah…”
Dill looked around the area to see the different gang factions and banners for upcoming events. He wanted to get things off his chest as well; certain matters were worrying him. He stopped to look across the crowd and saw Kimmy far off in the distance looking at vendors.
“Sir, do you think we jumped too fast into all this?” he asked.
“You must be joking, Sergeant—”
“Seriously, Alan, we’re clearly bonkers here. The investigation. Is it worth it?”
“I can’t say. We've got suspicions of a corporate conspiracy, bounty hunters hired by the men we're after. We've got a lot of answers we need and we’re close, judging by what we’ve found so far. What else were we going to do? It would've taken weeks to find anything conclusive through conventional means. If only I had resources on Mars like I do here. Any lead I've ever seen, I went for it. In the end, it doesn't matter where a lead comes from, as long as the job gets done.”
“Easy, slugger. I’m not a Council member looking for the speech of the year.”
“Yeah, very funny, Dill. What’s your point?”
“It all seems too surreal. Especially her,” Dill said as he looked over to Kim on the other side of the grounds.
“Kimmy?” McKenna said as he looked over to her as well.
“Have you stopped to wonder what she's really after? Why she talked us into all this? Her story at HQ was touching and all but I can't shake the feeling she's leading us into something more troublesome than she's worth.”
“I won't say you’re wrong, but we wouldn't have gotten this far without her.”
“I assure you,” Dill chuckled. “She is using us just as much as we're using her.”
“I'll admit, she's an odd one. Doesn't really act like anyone I've met before, especially for undercity material.”
“She can do a good job of hiding her true intentions. We're forgetting she's a nightcrawler for Lost Tribune, as well as a legendary techmage. Secrets and espionage are what she was bred for, it seems.”
“You think she's a threat?”
“We'll know when we win this thing and confront Hasker himself, won't we?”
McKenna nodded. Dill had legitimate concerns.
Outside of combat and war, it was hard for McKenna to depend on anyone or, at the very least, call someone his friend. Almost his entire life, he was around men and women that trusted him and he returned the same faith. After the war he became a distant being, putting much distance between him and anyone close. It was easy to forget that people had different motives than to just help, and that went for Dill as well.
“And what do you mean undercity material?” Dill scoffed. “I was raised in one.”
“I didn’t say anything.” McKenna smiled and put his hands up.
“You said material, mate. I shower, comb my bloody hair. What’s your excuse?”
“I don’t have to,” McKenna smiled.
“Shower?”
“Comb my hair.”
“That’s what little moppets who can’t comb their hair say,” Dill said as he rolled his eyes.
“I wake up and it goes poof. It’s naturally set like this.” McKenna waved his hands back over his hair, wavy and swept back.
“Oh, sod it,” Dill chuckled. “Besides, I know England’s undercities aren’t as bad as here. Doesn’t smell as bad over there.”
“But it does smell?”
“It’s a different kind of smell. More sweat, less ass.”
Suddenly, the two heard a whisper as they walked past the War-Hound. They turned to see a tall man in a black cloak who could be accurately described as “shady looking”, almost purposefully so. The black cloak draped down past his feet, dragging on the floor and sullying the ends with brown dirt and dust. His hood obscured most of his face and his grungy canvas rucksack was large and cumbersome, leaving one to think what could possibly be inside it. He was leaning against a wall in between two merchandise shops, carefully out of other bystanders’ way, tucked almost entirely out of sight.
“Well, look at that,” Dill said. “A creepy guy in a corner.”
The man started to wave them over.
“And it looks like he wants to sell something,” McKenna said. “Didn’t Kimmy say something about guys like this?”
“It’s a rule for kids but everyone
knows shady blokes in alleys sell the most interesting of items.”
McKenna and Dill approached the man, ready for any trickery, but upon closer examination realized it wasn't a man at all but an Auroran in heavy garb. He was slouching to avoid standing at full height.
“Thought the Aurorans liked the comfort of the uppercity?” Dill said. The Auroran tilted his head, revealing his deep green cat-eyes under his hood.
“I'm just a merchant making a living, human,” the Auroran said. “The entertainment The Games bring isn't beneath all of us, if that's what you mean.”
“Uh-huh,” Dill said. “So, you got our attention. What are you offering, humble merchant?”
“Something that can interest you, for sure. I have many wares, including the very hard to find Blood Rose. It works wonders with the nerves.”
“Do we look like junkies to you?” Dill snapped. The Auroran looked over the two and found Dill’s eyes to be strained and already under the effects of the drug.
“I don't label so inconsiderately. I merely find you as the man who needs it.”
McKenna looked at Dill, curious as to what his answer would be. He was already aware of his partner's borderline addiction but there was little he could say. Dill looked to him and McKenna could only shake his head.
“I don't need any,” Dill said, “but we are after some other goods.”
“Sol-Fate? I know, human, I know.” The Auroran smiled. “I do have a trading deck. I don't find much interest in the game myself, but I understand the worth of the game to some.”
The Auroran unclasped his coat and reached into his pocket to pull out a small deck. He then handed it to Dill for review as he started flipping through the deck.
McKenna stared at the peculiar Auroran who only stared back into his eyes. Although almost ageless in appearance during their early centuries of life, their eyes changed a paler color through the centuries, with different details only found if looking extremely close. McKenna could tell the Auroran was older, perhaps close to a thousand years.
“How did you know we were looking?” McKenna asked. The Auroran smiled but didn’t give an answer, further fueling McKenna’s curiosity.
“She said ENF, right?” Dill asked, not even paying attention to McKenna’s intrigue to the Auroran.
“ENF and at least Level 15. I think,” McKenna said, still staring into the alien’s eyes. Oddly enough, the Auroran had handed them all ENF faction cards.
“Major Deshi Dan, Space Angels; Admiral Gunner Rock; ENF Majesty Destroyer…” Dill said as he swiped past several units. “Oh, well look here. Sergeant-Major Alistair, Earth Fed Marines and Level 15.” Dill held the card up to McKenna. The card depicted a younger Marie Alistair from her time in the Earth Marines.
“Didn’t know Alistair was in the Federation Marines…” McKenna nodded and spoke into his earpiece. “Kimmy, we've got a few to pick from.”
“Good, because this scarface’s cards suck! Whatcha got?”
“Major Dan, Space Angels; ENF Majesty Destroyer; and Sergeant Alistair, Fed Marines—”
“Wait, Alistair? And her Fed Marine variant? Holy shit!”
“Holy shit as in good? Or as in I should put it back?” McKenna said.
“No, no! It's a somewhat rare card. Gives a rally bonus to assault units. Buy it, damn it!”
McKenna shrugged and nodded his head at the Auroran merchant. He took the rest of the deck back and, just as he was about to name the price, the Auroran hesitated.
“Something wrong?” McKenna asked.
“You know what, go ahead and take it,” the Auroran said with a smile as he looked to Dill. Suddenly, McKenna and Dill suspected foul play. “I've just realized who your friend is. There have been whispers about him. The Martian.”
“Normally give away items to celebrities?” McKenna asked.
“I'm an Auroran. Does it look like I need the money? Take it as good faith. But if you could do for me one thing, win The Red Fields.” The Auroran closed his coat and whispered into McKenna's ear. “I'm betting heavy on you, Martian. I think you'll make me quite a sum of credits.” The Auroran brushed past McKenna and started to hobble off.
“I thought you didn't need the money?” McKenna asked.
“Can an Auroran not have his pleasures as well? If I know anything about the Demon of Mars, it’s that a simple game won’t kill you. Of that, I can guarantee.”
The Auroran smiled and walked out of sight. Dill and McKenna watched the shady merchant walk off into the crowd, disappearing from sight. McKenna looked at the card, somewhat faded but in decent shape. He looked at his OPIaA to note the time and saw that Kimmy had just fifteen minutes to check in. It was time for Sol- Fate.
“Kimmy,” McKenna said into his earpiece, “shake your nerves. It's your time to shine.”
4
SOL-FATE
“Ladies and gentleman! Degenerate and upstander! I wish you a hearty welcome to the fifth annual Red Sector Games!”
Roars and cheers could be heard and felt through the entire complex as the holocast announcer kicked The Games off.
McKenna and the rest of the team shared a private booth with their own viewing screen in the lounge of the upper level. They tried to relax but tension was building, each wanting Kimmy to succeed. The announcer on-screen was the master of ceremonies, ready to get things started.
“I'm your host, Kenneth Spunkmeyer. Before I hand it off to the first evolution commentators, let’s get into the juicy details of the games themselves. As everyone is well aware, this year's Hasker-sponsored games are a little different than previous iterations and is now, by popular vote, a team accumulation tournament.”
A local fan club of five Wordkeepers in the lounge started pounding their fists on their table and shaking their beer steins, beer violently splashing out of their glasses.
“Let’s do it, Team Gideon!” they all shouted.
“Your favorite games remain but rather than declare single victors, teams are equally rewarded and accumulated for a grand prize. For each event completed, the team will add credited points to their tally based on their position, increasing their chances for the grand prize. Your favorite games: Sol-Fate, Warp One Racing, and The Red Fields yield the largest point output, but these games are only reserved for the unwavering and the super elite. So, without further delay, I hand things over to your favorite Sol-Fate experts, Sybil Gretchen and Arnie Bulwark! Let's see who will make the grid in The Red Sector Games!”
The crowds roared again as the screens transitioned over to a young woman and man, the commentators for Sol-Fate.
“Thank you, Kenneth, for that intro,” Sybil said, smiling. “I'm Sybil Gretchen joined by four-time Europa Tournament Sol-Fate winner, Arnie Bulwark, and we're here to be by your side for the intense card battles we have coming up.”
Sybil Gretchen was wearing a tight black dress with a purple leather jacket. Her blonde hair with pink highlights and sparkling green eyes made her worth looking at, and not just for Sol-Fate tips.
“Thank you, Sybil, and just as fierce as the battles to come, the contestants themselves have me squirming in my little shorts.”
Arnie Bulwark sported a sharp white blazer jacket with smooth black hair slicked back. He was the older of the two and, if gamblers had a look, he was it.
“Are they little, Arnie?” Sybil snickered.
“I don’t know if it’s you or the card battles coming up that’s making them tight. Probably the latter. We have many new faces this year and one of them just may be our future champion.”
“Sure, it's possible, Arnie, but my money's on last year's runner-up, considering last year’s champion Chipney Lanz met an untimely demise earlier this year, if you don’t recall.”
“Ah yes, a VTOL landed on his person, smashing his head clean out of his ass. Not the way a professional card player normally goes out. I gotta say it must have hurt.”
“I’m sure it was painless, Arnie,” Sybil said as she forced a smile. “
The runner-up last year, Peyton McCarthy, another affiliate of Hasker and representing Team Gideon, put up a hell of a fight but just couldn't clear the field of his opponent. In the end, Peyton just couldn't overpower those rare Hero cards. Maybe we'll see his reformulated deck this year to see some new surprises?”
“Just goes to show, Sybil, that those rarities can really add a much-needed boost to your hand if you're lucky enough to draw them.”
“Right, Arnie. And let's not forget Marco Pau who is reppin’ Team Tiger Tooth. We've heard he's quite the ringer and has taken several little league championships on Callisto and Mars already. Now he's got his sights set on the Red Sector tournament. Some say this man's deck is just unbeatable and that he's always got luck on his fingertips when he's drawing that hand.”
“Now, I'm not sure you've seen this updated roster, Sybil, but we have a late entry and I do mean ‘rushing-in-the-door-to-scan-her-deck-just-as-the-clock-ticked-to-the-hour’ late entry. She's a young native underdweller and has decided to remain anonymous, calling herself The Mysterious Stranger.”
“Interesting name to pick. How many contestants have gone by that?”
“I lost count around a hundred, Sybil. Here's a little bit of censored info provided by her representing broker, and I don't feel it's heavily censored as many players in the chamber have already attested and recognized this young woman. This young woman has worked her way up from bar room duels to beating every major syndicate in Red Sector that participates in Sol-Fate. And last I checked, that's hundreds if not thousands of people beaten. It's even rumored that she played and won against the Auroran Sol-Fate legend Pax Rn’yan and won his legendary card along with it.”
“Very interesting, Arnie. It certainly looks like we have some very interesting matches to look forward to.”
Many players were seen taking their seats at their dueling tables, getting ready for the first matches, which were only minutes away.
“Okay, Sybil, as always, let's break it down for those that have lived on a dead star their whole lives.”
“Right-O, Arnie. Sol-Fate is a fast-paced collectible strategy card game that's been in existence since Old Earth. Of course, the game has evolved through its many editions, but the fundamentals have not changed.”
The Bloodlust: (Volume Three of the Virion Series) Page 4