Animalis

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Animalis Page 20

by John Peter Jones


  The icon disappeared, and Jax was suddenly standing in front of Hank, four feet away, as a figment of Hank’s augmented reality. But the call was real; the person on the other end was Jax. He hadn’t died.

  Hank’s mouth trembled, still processing the shock of seeing Jax alive. He was wearing strange clothes. The pants were thick and fuzzy, and the shirt was woven with threads that could have been spaghetti strands. His weight was distributed disproportionately, not the way Hank had remembered Jax. The hips were shifted to hold weight off one of his legs, like he was injured somehow.

  “Jax?” he whispered, so quietly that it didn’t reach his own ears. “Jax!” he finally whispered again, a decibel louder. “You … You look like …” He sucked in a breath. “Look like … a preternatural ghost. Where … Where are you? What happened?” He consciously pushed the fear out of his voice.

  A smile spread across Jax’s cheeks. He glanced left and right, as if expecting Hank’s face to appear for the call, but without the thousands of tiny cameras embedded in a wall screen, only Hank’s voice would come through.

  “Hank? Are you there? I’m alive, but just barely,” Jax said. “Can you see me?” He held up his leg for Hank to examine.

  “What’s that?” Hank could see a metallic sheen where Jax’s skin should have been. Was that what was causing the alteration to his posture?

  “This is what is left of my leg. I got sent to the arena, fought a bear, it bit my lower leg off, and I’ve been hiding out at a weird Animalis religious community building.” Jax set the leg down and waited like a child expecting a punishment.

  Hank started to sort the information into a timeline in his mind, but stopped at the Animalis religious building. Was he making a joke? “And you’re staying with the bear?” he asked, coaxing the punch line.

  “No, not with the bear. Oh, Hank, it’s good to hear your voice again.” Jax started to undo the buckles on the harness around his strange leg.

  “After being alone with nothing but Animalis for two months, I’d hope so,” Hank said. He checked the time—down to ten reliable minutes.

  Jax pulled the attachment off and lifted the severed tip for Hank to see. His leg stopped almost halfway down his shin. Hank started to shake his head back and forth, still not wanting to accept the story Jax had told him.

  “No, Jax. I’m so sorry. The bear—you really lost your leg. In the arena,” Hank said. He could see the red around the rim of his eyes, too. “Your eyes—they took your retina monitor, too.”

  Jax went through the story with him, vividly describing the amount of blood and the stench in the cage. He told Hank he was staying with Grimshaw and Hodge, and gave him the location of the herbal air shop.

  “You’re with Grimshaw?” Hank asked. How could Hank have missed the signs of her lying? She had sent a video message earlier that day, and she was saying something about a … She and Hodge had been … No, that’s right, she had told him, nearly a week ago, that her updates would be more infrequent. Hank had assumed she was giving up the search. He knew he should have kept track of her in secret, to make sure she wasn’t taken to the arena as well.

  Hank pushed the guilt away. Of course she wouldn’t have been taken by the Animalis, and he would never have hoped she would be …

  “Good. That’s good,” he continued. “I’ll let the captain know you’re back.”

  Jax had gone through the arena, held prisoner by the Animalis. He has to be tortured inside, Hank thought.

  “We’ll get even,” Hank said. “We’ll make the Animalis pay, end the arena forever.”

  After a short delay, Jax nodded and said, “Alright.”

  But Hank knew that Jax didn’t believe him. He didn’t understand what Hank meant. “With the Ivanovich Machine,” Hank said.

  Now Jax looked even more confused. He doesn’t have to know yet, Hank cautioned himself, and his time investigating the pyramid was running out. With the last five minutes, he would have to escape the lab and the building. He didn’t regret taking the call, but it had been very unfortunate timing.

  “You’re alive!” he reiterated. “I’ve been busy, Jax. The pyramid, I’ve almost got it. I think so. It’ll be in our hands soon.”

  Jax nodded. “Good. They haven’t used it to kill everybody yet.”

  “No. Can you stay there? With Grimshaw? I’m not sure when I can come get you,” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good. Check your messages a couple times a day.” Then he realized how distant he had sounded, trying to keep his nerves under control. “I’m glad you’re alright. We are going to end up being heroes, Jax. I can’t do this without you.”

  Jax said good-bye and ended the call. It would be good to have Jax with him again. He made it out of the arena alive. The information was finally sinking in. Incredible.

  ——

  Jax walked quietly back through the curtain and down the hall back to his room. The hard plastic floor and the colorless walls didn’t seem as far from his normal life as they had before. Without contact from Hank, the building could have been light years away, on an alien planet.

  But now he was back on Earth. He was in the army, under Hank’s command, and they were waiting for their chance to take back something that Hank believed was a terrible weapon. But there had been something so strange about the conversation. Hank had been disconnected, on edge from something.

  Jax remembered the painful indifference from a dream about Hank while he was in the prison cell at the arena. Were they drifting apart?

  His original question had been answered: Jax would stay put. People needed him; Hank needed him, and maybe the Animalis needed him. He wouldn’t give up trying to help.

  Chapter 19

  Gold Teeth

  A week later, Hank still hadn’t come for Jax, but the last message had left him feeling uneasy:

  I think I’ve got it. I think I’ve figured out how the pyramid works. Expect a message from me within three days. ~Hank.

  It wasn’t much to go off, but the promise of returning to the fight in just three more days made Jax anxious again. He hadn’t told Hank yet about the details of the arena, or that he was struggling just to fulfill his commitment to the military. Jax’s leg continued to ache and the skin seemed to be getting thicker. Most of the time he could get around with the prosthetic, but it would never be the same.

  In the meantime, the Thewy saints got another lead. A young mongoose Animalis that was a rising sensation as a lightweight boxer was in danger. The gym he trained at had discovered his mate was pregnant. The Animalis at ACTS expected some kind of public disgracing, something that would show that even popular Animalis had to follow the rule not to perpetuate their species.

  This time, Jax was eager to get involved. He could go with Grimshaw on the mission, and it had something to do with fighting. Not just fighting, but boxing, the sport Jax had fallen in love with in high school.

  “Two thousand UCs? That’s a good down payment, but for what he’s done, he’s worth way more to me if he fights,” the man with three gold teeth was saying. “His last fight tonight is going to be unforgettable anyways. There’s no way I can let him go.”

  Jax stood beside Grimshaw, talking to the owner of the gym. Jax gestured to the boxing ring behind the man. “Is this where the matches are?”

  The man smiled, revealing a fourth gold tooth. “Yes. This is where it happens. The crowds fill this entire room and it transforms. It comes to life.” His thin chest rose with pride. The man was short and tightly built. His arms were covered in animating tattoos and his blond hair was braided tightly to his scalp.

  Jax looked around. The ground was worn colorless, and sections of plastic were beginning to roll back to reveal the deep blue foundation. Around the perimeter of the large warehouse, Jax saw sparring robots, weights, ropes, and a dozen humans and Animalis in little clusters. There was a sharp slap-slap! from padded fists striking at one of the robots.

  “Four thousand, then
,” Grimshaw said.

  Jax snapped his attention back to the conversation. He tried to match her bluff: “He’s obviously not worth that much, but you can consider part of it as a donation for your gym.”

  “Ha!” The man turned and spat on the floor. “We bring in twice that much, every fight.” He folded his arms and looked Grimshaw up and down.

  Jax glanced at Grimshaw. She had tried to dress down for the meeting, coming alone with Jax to barter for one of the Mr. Gold Teeth’s fighting Animalis, but the way she stood, spoke, and moved still revealed her classiness. Gold Teeth wasn’t even paying attention to Jax anymore, which meant he knew who was really making the decisions between the two of them.

  Jax elbowed Grimshaw in the side and pulled his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  She frowned, but when Jax started walking away, she stepped in beside him. As they walked farther away from the gym owner, they heard him whine, then mutter “Bah.” But he didn’t give a counteroffer.

  When they were a few yards away, Grimshaw whispered, “We can’t walk away, Jax. They’re going to take everything away from Rikki tonight—his children, and any possibility for future children.”

  “He’s just trying to suck money out of you, Grimshaw. There’s no way this place gets eight thousand UCs a fight.”

  “Well, he makes enough that he’s not desperate for the money,” she said.

  Jax thought about it, slowing his walk. “It’s not the money he’s interested in,” he said. “He loves the fight. It’s everything to him. Even if you give him eight thousand, he’s going to ask for more. This is a mongoose Animalis that we’re rescuing, right? Mr. Gold-Fang back there has got to be upset that he can’t use him anymore. He must be a fantastic boxer.”

  “Maybe, but he’s going to be an even better father when his mate’s litter is born,” she said. “Hmm. He only cares for the fight?” Within the next step, she slowed to a stop.

  “That’s it!” she said and turned around to walk back to the gold-toothed man.

  “What’s it?” Jax asked, struggling to catch up.

  Ahead of them, the fourth golden tooth appeared on the man’s face as his mouth widened into a grin. He unlaced his arms off his chest and stroked the braids that ran along the top of his head.

  “Two thousand, and you get me to fight in his place tonight,” Grimshaw said as they approached.

  The man scowled. “No, eight thousand.” He looked at Jax. “Why, who is she?” He looked back at Grimshaw. “Who wants to see you fight?”

  Grimshaw launched her fist at the man’s face. Jax didn’t have a moment to react, and the man was even more caught off guard. His eyes went wide before her knuckles drove his head backward from the solid impact. He staggered backward.

  “Wha—” he said. When he looked at her again, his eyes were alight with passion.

  Her hand relaxed and went back to her side like nothing had happened. “I think people will want to see me fight.”

  Gold Teeth brought his hand up to his face, still looking over Grimshaw like she was a winning lottery ticket. “Two thousand?” he asked.

  Jax held still, as surprised as the man had been, but not as thrilled. She should have volunteered him to fight. But the man wouldn’t have reacted the same way if Jax had punched him just now. If this was a bluff on Grimshaw’s part, he didn’t know how they were going to get out of it.

  “What weight class are you?” the man asked.

  “Featherweight,” Jax said, before she had a chance to look to him for help. If she was going to fight, it had to look like she knew everything about boxing.

  Grimshaw looked back at the man.

  “We don’t do featherweight here. You’re either lightweight or bantamweight.” The man looked up and down her body again. “How much do you weight?”

  She looked at Jax. He swallowed. He had guessed at her weight, aiming low to make sure that her opponent wouldn’t be too heavy for her.

  “One twenty-five,” Jax said.

  Grimshaw frowned with an offended look. “One thirty-four,” she said.

  “You’re too heavy for bantamweight. You get bumped up into lightweight. It’s a deal.” The fourth golden tooth slowly emerged again. “Oh … and you’ll be fighting me.”

  ——

  Later, while Grimshaw and Jax rode back to ACTS in an automated taxi, Jax couldn’t hold it in any longer: “Why did you do that? You don’t need to fight this guy, Hurley!”

  “You said it yourself,” she said. “He wouldn’t accept more money. He wanted a memorable fight.”

  She had been quiet since the deal was made. Her knees were pulled up under her arms while she watched buildings pass outside the taxi’s window.

  “Can you really box?” he asked.

  “Did you see the way he looked at me?”

  Jax tried to pull up the visual memory. The moment after she punched him had left an impression on Jax; there was that look of intensity. He knew the look disturbed him, but he didn’t know why.

  “I nearly broke my hand when I hit him,” she said. “I don’t know anything about boxing.” Her tone was somber.

  As he watched her, Jax sat back in his seat. Ice cut through his heart. Something had happened to her. Her spirit and her zest for life was gone, like an animal that was resigned to die in its cage.

  “Let’s call the deal off,” Jax said.

  She continued to watch out the window and didn’t respond.

  Jax joined in watched buildings pass by and let his mind rest. There were no solid ideas, only restless worry. They passed a sushi restaurant that had a giant octopus with long, suction-cupped tentacles on its sign. The next building was a print shop, glowing neon orange—Hank’s favorite color.

  Jax sat up. “Maybe you don’t have to fight,” he said. Then he commanded the automated computer, “Taxi, turn around. We need to stop at that print shop back there.”

  “I want to fight him, Jax,” Grimshaw said.

  Jax hesitated. He knew she was strong. She was strong enough to carry him through the city. But she didn’t know boxing. If she went into the ring, she was going to be beaten, and probably knocked unconscious.

  “I know a way that we can fight him together,” he said.

  “How?” she asked, a spark of her former self coming through again.

  “Do you have sixteen hundred UCs?”

  Chapter 20

  Fighting for Control

  Jax ascended the stairs to the boxing ring, but it wasn’t his body moving. He looked around at the crowd of people that had filled the warehouse, marveling that the gym owner was right: it was completely packed.

  He tilted his head to watch the live wall screens that would display the action of the fight to the back of the crowd. The person in the ring was Grimshaw. She had worn a vivacious outfit to help ensure that it was a lively show. He looked down and saw thickly padded gloves at the end of her lean arms.

  The newly printed strips of fabric that controlled her movements were placed over her entire body and blended in perfectly with her skin. Each sticky black diode was latched onto her skin, sending the signals from Jax into her muscles as powerful electric impulses.

  Jax was actually reclined in a chair—back in the herbal air shop at ACTS. His body was sedated, so that the commands from his brain were only being broadcast from the diode latched to the back of his head to the suit controlling Grimshaw. When he commanded his knee to lift up, the signals were picked up by sensors, and Grimshaw’s knee rose up. His own body lay perfectly still on the chair.

  “Everything seems to be working alright,” Grimshaw whispered. Her voice came in clear above the constant buzz from the crowd.

  Jax had no way to respond to her comment except to nod his head in agreement, which forced Grimshaw to nod her head.

  She still had free control of her face and voice, since the diodes stopped at the base of her skull. Otherwise, Jax could control everything, as long as he was careful not to let his concentration
lapse, which would mean that Grimshaw herself would be back in control. She could also wrest control from him if she focused on doing so.

  “Tonight’s fight,” a booming voice said throughout the warehouse, “has an unexpected twist.” The chatter from the crowd fell as the lights faded. Spotlights filled the ring. “Our mongoose, Rikkitikki, seems to have a human admirer. She stands before you now, promising an even better show than what you were expecting.”

  Jax raised Grimshaw’s hands over her head to draw cheers from the crowd, but they remained silent.

  The voice droned on, “Behold, the reigning lightweight champion of Ireland …” while Jax stressed about the fight. The last thing he wanted was to let Grimshaw be knocked out, especially while he was controlling her body. He would be responsible for every hit she took. Her body—her safety—was in Jax’s hands.

  “The reigning champion of Ireland?” Grimshaw muttered. “Just because I’m redheaded?”

  Jax shrugged her shoulders.

  Across from them, the man with four golden teeth, now glowing through a clear, plastic mouth-guard, slid between the ropes into the boxing ring. He looked a pale white with his shirt off. His muscles were small, but dense. Jax guessed that he really was in the lightweight class. He was thin and wiry.

  The announcer went through a condensed version of the rules. “Don’t hit below the belt. Strike with the front of the glove only. No kidneys, rabbits, or hits to the spine. Knockout is a count to ten, and there will only be four rounds of two minutes each.”

  A referee emerged through the ropes and walked to the center of the ring. Jax felt Grimshaw’s body start moving to the center. He had lost concentration and she was in control. It felt like she was walking his body toward the ref.

  Jax carefully synced his movements with hers again, not wanting to topple her with two incompatible commands pushing parts of her body in different directions. He had to feel her arms moving, and begin moving his in the exact rhythm, until the two became one. He had to feel the muscles in her stomach, hips, and legs, while they constantly rebalanced to keep her standing. As he took control, her thighs first pulled his thighs forward, then his pushed hers back. He slowed her to a stop at the middle of the ring.

 

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