by PJ Schnyder
The fact that she and Max stood close, neither animal molesting the other but both projecting enough dominance and aggression to set off other animals in cages as they were wheeled past, was enough to have trainers approach Dev with offers for the dog too.
“Unaltered humans do not do well in the games.” The guard’s crest lifted along the back of his neck in a weak attempt at challenge.
“They are trained to work with their counterparts. Levels the playing field. The human males can hold their own and each of them is more than they appear.” Dev shrugged, not giving any ground to the underling. “But by all means, enter them in the lower brackets. It’s more creds in my pocket when they win.”
Bharguest rolled his shoulders and popped a vertebra in his neck.
“That one is altered.”
Dev raised an eyebrow. “He’s the solo fighter.”
Silence. The guard lashed his tail, tapping at his screen and then passing a card under the reader. Placing it on the small counter of his station, he bobbed his head. “They’ll be entered in the 14th level brackets. The card provides access to the holding area and provides a holographic display to lead you to their assigned pens. You are granted access to the Trainer’s box for viewing the arenas. Check in a half cycle prior to each fight. You are responsible for any damages if your property engages in any altercations outside of the arenas.”
Rygard snorted, not bothering to hold in his amusement. The guard scowled, obviously annoyed with Rygard’s confidence. Rygard met him, stare for stare, until the other’s gaze slid sideways.
They might be slaves, or passing as them, but they were warriors. Broken slaves didn’t last in the kind of hell they were walking into.
“That’s enough now, move on.” A blunt rod prodded Rygard’s shoulder, just hard enough to look rough but not enough to leave a bruise that might impede much needed range of motion later. Badger knew how to play a role every bit as much as Dev. The old soldier had stepped up to the position of handler and would accompany Dev wherever he went while the rest of them were in the pens waiting for their fights and looking for Rygard’s men.
Rygard glared a moment longer, enough to make the reptilian guard lash his tail again. Satisfied, he followed after Dev as Kaitlyn’s captain strode toward the big lifts where other trainers were loading their property.
Kaitlyn padded alongside him, silent. When some other humanoid strayed too close, she lifted her upper lip to display gleaming fangs. The errant slave prudently altered his course to rejoin his line and give her more space, tripping over chains to get away.
Tracer and Max were given similar consideration and everyone, slaves and trainers alike gave Bharguest a wide berth.
Something twisted inside Rygard’s gut. Going undercover, he trusted Kaitlyn and Dev. Tracer was a good man or the Kx9 wouldn’t have chosen him as a handler. But Bharguest, everything about the man pushed buttons, brought out the ugly inside him.
It might have been a pissing contest, but they weren’t here to prove who was the biggest and baddest. If Bharguest got them in and helped rescue Rygard’s men, then Rygard could swallow his pride.
Another well placed prod from Badger got them all onto a lift. Rygard got a sense of dropping several levels below ground before they came to a stop. When the safety gate opened, they stepped out into another time period.
The Colosseum was built atop a complex cave structure. Dim lighting had been installed in recesses along the walls, illuminating the passageways enough to walk but leaving the ceiling above them shrouded in darkness. Side tunnels branched off from the main corridor, leading off into a maze. The ident card in Dev’s hand served as their guide, a tiny holographic map projected before him. Without it, they’d have been lost. When they turned down a secondary tunnel, they started to see the holding cells lining either side.
Beings moved inside those pocket caves, slaves plucked from every race Rygard had ever encountered and some new to him. Some stood right at the force field, watching them walk by and others were nothing but shadows in the recesses of the cells.
Max growled and Tracer dropped a hand on the big dog’s head. The Kx9 ceased and moved ahead of Tracer a pace or two. Rygard had seen one or two of the teams in action before, enough to know the dog was positioning himself to defend his handler if necessary.
Rygard didn’t blame the dog for feeling defensive. The level of animosity in the caves combined with the claustrophobic tunnels had him consciously flexing his hands to keep from clenching them into fists. Kaitlyn moved beside him, a deathly silent shadow almost lost in the dim lighting, save for a tiny metallic node piercing her left ear.
The little device wasn’t simply jewelry. She’d refused to wear a collar and Dev had told them all to come up with another idea to make the owners of the Colosseum believe she was under control. Skuld had designed a solution, a small device that flashed in response to a small control mechanism on Dev’s wrist. Both Kaitlyn and Max wore one.
Knowing some of the nightmares haunting Kaitlyn’s nights, Rygard hadn’t dug further and he’d helped redirect Petrico-Calin’s snide commentary about making the mission more difficult.
The innovation meant Kaitlyn, and Max, could hear any communication from Dev and so could Rygard or Tracer if they leaned close enough to their partner. It was also small enough to stay in place when Kaitlyn had to shift from panther to human form.
It was brilliant. So convincing that the guards had believed it controlled her and Max effectively enough to ask after the cost of the design.
It hadn’t been the first time Rygard had mentally thanked the stars Dev and his team were mercs with a sense of honor and a code of their own. Other, less savory types, with the kind of ingenuity and skills Dev had aboard his ship would have redefined the black market.
Rygard’s thought were interrupted as they reached an empty cave, indicated in Dev’s guiding hologram by a blinking sphere.
Dev motioned inside. “In you go.”
“Wait here until show time and follow the guards when they come for you. Stay alive, every one of you.”
Simple commands. It was in line with the role he played and Dev meant it.
Badger gave each of them a prod to herd them into the cave. Dev thumbed the ident card and the holding shield activated, locking them inside. Without another word, Dev and Badger headed back the way they came.
* * *
Kaitlyn paced the length of the cavern. She would allow Max to do his doggy thing and sniff at the perimeter. The Kx9 was smart enough to avoid setting off the force fields at the opening of the cave and along one wall blocking an archway to the next cave over.
Voluntary or not, confinement bothered her. It made it harder for her to hold on to the more complex human thought process. She’d been practicing, but this would be the longest she’d remained in panther form, ever. Plus, she didn’t like pretending to be a belonging. It ran too close to being a slave. The scents of misery and fear had filled the hallways of this place. They should accomplish the mission and get out. This cavern was a death trap.
Only minutes into the mission and already she had to quell the urge to throw herself against the force fields, make an escape. The walls were too close, brought memories of another time when she’d been held prisoner. Though her captivity on Triton Moon base had been spent in a square room, not a cavern.
A prison is a prison. Doesn’t matter what the walls are made of.
From the other cells, random sounds of growling and clicking, groans and curses merged in an ugly version of white noise. Her memory added to it, a cacophony of frightened shouts and tortured screams as her classmates suffered with her. How many of them had been captured back then, a dozen or more? It took less than a week for all of them to die. All except Kaitlyn.
Footsteps sounded in the passageway and the ambient suffering reduced to a fearful
simmer. It had been the same way back then, all of them quieted and hoping the guards hadn’t come for them even if it meant somebody else would be taken.
Defiant, Kaitlyn moved to the mouth of the cave and watched the Sketz’es guards walk past. They barely spared a look for her, overconfident in the security of the force fields. Or maybe they considered the two-footed fighters more dangerous than the four-footed.
Stupid of them, and to her advantage.
Satisfied she could take the guards if need be, her mental ghosts quieted. She turned to consider their cave again.
There was enough room for all of them to lay down with little space to spare. If any of them intended to limber up or prepare for a fight, the others would have to stay back against the walls. There were no nooks or crannies in which to hide from the surveillance sensors.
Speaking was going to be a problem.
There was no place to shift without being seen. Someone would realize she was more than a tamed panther.
Stepping away from the main opening, she approached the archway, curious.
She’d never been able to see her classmates unless they’d been taken out to watch each other suffer for the amusement of their keepers. These caverns seemed to be a network, some with pockets divided by force fields and others naturally separated. Theirs adjoined only one other and it wasn’t empty.
Shadows shifted in the darkness beyond the pale glow of the force field. Humanoid, she judged, and much quieter than humans or Sketz’es. The force field filtered any clues scent might have given her. A low growl emerged from the other side, tweaking a fairly new memory and bringing it to the forefront in contrast to the older.
The growl was feline, not any Terran big cat. No. She’d heard a threat like it not too long ago on Dysnomia Station and the maker had been a completely different kind of alien. Considering the trouble that had been, she really wondered what kind of universal god Murphy must be.
“Everything okay, Kaitlyn?” Rygard stepped to her side. Close enough to touch, though he didn’t.
She’d noticed his hesitation a few times since she’d shifted form. He’d had no trouble touching her as a human; as a panther, he seemed unsure. She wondered if he was repulsed by her in this shape.
A snarl interrupted her thoughts this time and she bared her teeth in response. A face emerged from the darkness level with hers, the alien feline was a starved version of the race she and Rygard had encountered on Dysnomia Station. Gaunt, its cheekbones and eye sockets stood out in stark relief. The skin stretched too taut over the frame of its face. Starved or not, it still had a set of fangs to rival her own.
Ugh, and its drool made her happy she couldn’t smell its breath. The thing hadn’t eaten clean in some time and its mouth seemed to be rotting along with whatever it’d managed to subsist on down here.
Rygard stood his ground, no sign of fear despite the surprise she could scent in his reaction. He’d barely flinched.
“Ganna kei al.” A voice came from out of her line of sight and the thing in front of her did flinch. She’d heard the words before and she was guessing they meant to stand down, or something along those lines.
Since the felid withdrew, she’d count that as an affirmative to her assumption. She could see it now, past the glow of the force field, crouching low on all fours despite having evolved to walk upright.
The speaker stepped closer, enough for her to see he stood tall on two legs. Equally emaciated, the remains of what must have once been ornate robes hung off his frame. Despite his weakened condition, the male held himself erect and his musculature rippled beneath his hide. A dominant male, this one, perhaps more of an alpha than the big felid she and Rygard and encountered back on Dysnomia Station.
And his golden eyes were fastened on her neck.
She didn’t know why she’d decided to wear the pendant. It’d been around her neck since the day she’d received it as a gift. A necklace, given in thanks, was different to her from a collar. The cord was hidden in her fur, the pendant all that was visible. Wear it.
The felid had given her a command. She didn’t have to obey, she’d worn it because it’d resonated with her. Something about the polished amber stone against her skin comforted her, especially because she could feel it whether her skin was bare or protected by fur.
“You are human.” The male addressed Rygard, never taking his eyes from the pendant around her neck. At least, she was going to assume the male was talking to Rygard because she sure as hell couldn’t answer him.
“Yes.” Rygard gave the affirmative with caution. Either he’d assumed the male was talking to him too or he’d decided to cover for her. Whichever, it was a good idea.
“Where did you come across that?” The felid didn’t point. Instead he lifted his chin in her general direction and he did not sound pleased.
“It was a gift.”
Yup. And considering what she’d gone through, she planned to keep it.
“You are not lying.”
Interesting, she couldn’t catch scents coming across the force field, so neither could they. The male had to be relying on Rygard’s voice inflection and body language to detect a lie. Much harder to do without the aid of smell to confirm. Seeing these aliens in this dungeon only proved how much of a melting pot this place was.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sharp movement of Rygard’s shrug. His growing agitation was no surprise since the last time they’d met this species, he’d been branded a murderer. The damning part of it was that it had been rightfully so in his mind. He might have been under orders but he’d wrestled with the right and wrong of what he and his men had done. Making it right had mattered to him. Not dying had sort of been a side benefit there.
Rygard was good at not dying.
Kaitlyn liked him fine that way but she worried about his priorities.
“How did you come by the gift?” The alien cat stepped closer to the force field, and with him came the other. Still crouching on all fours, it crowded the bigger male’s leg and glared at Kaitlyn.
She twitched an ear and then deliberately lay down. The smaller male wasn’t a threat.
“We met one of your kind, not too long ago.” Rygard cut the explanation short there. “The gift and the story are hers.”
Oh and that explained everything.
Kaitlyn huffed. Then again, this wasn’t the place to go into any kind of detail.
The silence stretched out into a long wait as the big male stared at Kaitlyn. She raised her eyes to his and blinked once, twice. He wasn’t a threat to her either, force field or no.
The others had gone still behind her. Even Tracer was doing a good job, for a human, at being a statue. She flipped the end of her tail. The big male could stare at her all he wanted to but he wouldn’t get the answers he sought simply by looking at her.
“She is not kindred.”
She twitched her ear again. Another plus one to the big guy.
Rygard didn’t bother to answer. They both had an idea of what kindred were. They’d pulled two cubs out of a black market on Dysnomia Station. As far as Kaitlyn was concerned, the cubs were pure cat, not a sentient species per se. Considering how clearly the cubs had made their emotions known, they might have enhanced intelligence, something along the lines of the tinkering in Max’s genetics. She hadn’t spent enough time with the cubs to know for sure.
It was another long silence before the big alien spoke again. “You will not wait long to fight. Keep away from the cage walls. Control the center.”
Interesting.
“Thank you.” Rygard nodded once and then backed away from the force field.
Kaitlyn rose, holding her head high. Both of the aliens watched her, their eyes fastened on the pendant at her throat. She really didn’t like the attention to the soft tissue of her neck. Still, the
cool amber grounded her, gave her a calm she used to have to work for.
“If you survive, we would talk more with you.” The dominant male was still looking at her, not Rygard. “Live, little one.”
Pfft. Little.
She flicked an ear in his direction. Size wasn’t the only advantage she had over prey. Speed, strength and agility were hers as well as the natural weapons she had in feline form. Leopards could overwhelm prey many times their size, drag the carcass long distances and climb with the added weight. Being a panther, not just a leopard, added to her advantage in these dark caverns. Her melanistic variation to a normal leopard’s coat allowed her to blend better into darkness and shadows, a darker than black nightmare with teeth and claws.
Besides, the males had the disadvantage of being distracted by testosterone all the time.
Turning, she padded over to the far wall deepest in shadow. Lying down again, she positioned herself to see all of the entryways into the cavern, knowing what little light there was would reflect in her eyes. It might not bother the felids still watching her, but it would creep the hell out of the guards when they came.
It didn’t take much time for Rygard to come and sit next to her, drawing up his knees so he could rest his elbows on them.
“Seems like every chance I get to be with you in person, we end up on a mission where all the males are only interested in you.”
She curled her lip to flash long white fangs at him. It wasn’t like she did it on purpose.
Bharguest snorted. “You think this is bad. Give it a day.”
“And what, she turns into a prime rib platter?” Rygard’s tone bordered on aggressive. The hint of humor sounded forced, but it kept his words from inciting the predator instinct in their dubious ally.
Kaitlyn watched Bharguest carefully anyway. He was too unpredictable. The dark man only smiled, nostrils flaring as he breathed in through his nose.