Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV)

by JC Andrijeski

  Richter winked at the Nirreth, obviously enjoying Jet’s anger.

  “Laks already knew you had a bit of a sweet spot for him. And like I said, he wanted you in his bed even before we picked you up that day. I guess Anaze is a better salesman than I thought...”

  “A little too good,” Anaze muttered, his arms folded from where he sat on a blood red stone next to a tree covered in white blossoms.

  He stared up at the dome of the sky when Jet turned, not meeting her gaze.

  Through all of Richter’s speech, Laksri hadn’t said a word, but Jet got the distinct feeling he hadn’t liked the conversation any more than she had. Or maybe he was a lot better at faking that kind of thing than she’d let herself contemplate. Maybe he’d just rather if Jet had more reason to think his role had been more innocent.

  It was hard to know, really; he hadn’t stung her that day and his face was as inscrutable as it always was when they weren’t connected through the venom.

  At Anaze’s crack, though, Richter only chuckled again.

  “You’re a popular girl, kitten,” he grinned at her. “You’ve had my two best boys fighting over you pretty much from day one...”

  By then, Jet was barely listening to him though.

  Instead, she found herself thinking around the real possibilities in terms of Richter’s and Laksri’s ‘plans’...meaning those that occurred out of her earshot. It also occurred to her that Anaze was probably right. She might not be able to read Laksri even half as well as she wanted to believe.

  As Jet remembered this again, she continued walking towards the harsh lights and high monitors of the main arena with her three ‘co-conspirators.’

  The truth was, she really was on her own here.

  She pushed her mind away from that, too.

  Instead, almost out of reflex, she found herself clutching Laksri’s hand as they neared the edge of the ramp. Jet had seen video of the arena before, so she knew the basic size and layout, but it still caught her by surprise to see it at full scale. It seemed to grow around her as she looked up...pretty much the instant they left the shadow of the high-walled ramp.

  Up until that point, Jet could see the view screen straight ahead of them, which alternated images from her and Laksri to the crowd, to an image of the Rings Board, which displayed an oval-shaped table filled with well-dressed and somewhat grim-faced Nirreth.

  Jet counted fourteen members in the longest of those shots.

  One, surprisingly, was human...the same woman Jet remembered holding a blue drink and watching from the crowd during Jet’s demonstration prior to her sale to the Royals.

  Despite the massive screen that hung over the far side of the auditorium, Jet still hadn’t managed to glimpse any details of the actual arena, apart from a short stretch of the concourse that crossed her immediate line of vision. She stared at that slice anyway, trying to get a sense of whether the obstacles fit the parameters she’d measured from her training.

  In some ways, that was even helpful...it got her mind back on the immediate problem, anyway.

  When they reached the end of that ramp, though, Jet got distracted again.

  She’d intended to begin mapping the exact dimensions of the terrain at once, but her eyes were drawn up and around at the sheer size of the arena itself, seemingly against her will. As she stared around at the full benches that slid upwards and backwards on a steep, angled slope, rising up at least ten or fifteen stories at the back, her heart nearly stopped in her chest.

  It hit her again, with force that time, that Richter was right.

  There was no possible way that humanity would win any real battle against the Nirreth. Not without help from the Nirreth themselves.

  Just in this one place, more Nirreth were sitting and standing than Jet suspected remained alive of humanity in what used to be called Canada. She couldn’t fathom actual numbers, other than to compare what she saw to the skag pits themselves.

  Their entire settlement of maybe two hundred plus wouldn’t fill even a tenth of the innermost ring of seats above her. She hadn’t known this many Nirreth lived on the entire continent, much less represented an unnamed portion of a single Green Zone.

  Forcing her eyes and her mind off that sea of faces, Jet jerked her attention back to the course itself. That helped almost immediately.

  Her focus and clarity returned as she began comparing every detail of the obstacle course in front of her to the three maps she already carried in her head...two from Laksri and one from the practice arena. Her mind clicked through the process methodically, and Jet remembered again, somewhere in the background, how surprised Richter had been when Anaze and Laksri told him what she could do.

  He didn’t call it Jet’s ‘weird spatial thing’ like Anaze had, however.

  Richter had a different set of words to describe what Jet had always assumed that everyone else could do, too.

  “You mean to tell me, kitten here has a photographic memory?”

  Richter stared at her in disbelief, then broke out in a genuine-sounding laugh.

  “Well, hell...” he said, still chuckling. “I would have pulled her while she was still in diapers if you’d told me that, boy...”

  The boy, in that case, had been Anaze. Despite the fact that the man saying it to him was his father, Anaze’s facial expression turned stormy.

  “I told you she was good in tight spaces,” he said. “I said she could maneuver well in the dark...” he added, his voice growing more annoyed, not less. “She was the best builder in the settlement because she remembered the exact location of every tunnel and pipe. She could dig and build without us ending up with a passageway sunk in old bilge water or sewage from a broken line...”

  Richter rolled his eyes at Anaze. He didn’t take his gaze off Jet. “I think you’re now, officially, my new best friend,” he said with a grin. “How do you like that, kitten?”

  Jet didn’t bother to verbalize her opinion on that.

  She did try to decide, later that day, whether Richter finding her more valuable reassured her, or made her more uneasy. After all, if he thought she was worth something beyond her age, sex, and relative handiness with a sword, he might be less likely to dump her if things got sticky.

  On the other hand, he also might throw more jobs at her that could get her killed.

  Reaching up to grip the hilt of Black, the Japanese-style sword strapped to her back, Jet continued to take inventory of the room. She gripped the handle of the sword almost as a form of reassurance as her thoughts dwindled to a murmur in the back of her mind.

  The ladder looks the same, she decided after another few beats. Same dimensions...same distance apart as in the practice arena...slightly more off-center to the pond...

  Her eyes drifted to the rock-like walls dotted with hand-holds.

  ...Same basic components. Over twice the size, and a good twenty-six paces further from the moving track. Plus there’s that hook thing...never seen that before...

  Her mind shifted back to the first pool of water, noting its spatial proximity to the rotating hooks, as well as what must be a collection of weapons portals through which real, physical objects might be launched.

  The pond also had a ladder. That was new.

  Looking around, she found more than a dozen more of those weapons clusters. She wondered if the angles shifted, if they could be aimed...loudly enough that she hoped Laksri would hear it.

  Luckily, he did.

  “Yes,” he told her softly in English. “...But only the larger ones,” he added, pointing them out with a few subtle flicks of his tail. “...Mostly, it’s easier for them to manipulate the projection...but I wouldn’t rule it out entirely, even on the smaller ones...” His voice turned warning. “Remember points, Jet. Points matter. Most of what attacks you will come from the projection, so you need to watch for more than physical projectiles.”

  “I won’t be able to dodge much of anything if I have a spear sticking out of my back,” she muttered, her voice
holding more of an edge that time.

  When she glanced up, Laksri conceded the point, with his eyes and tail as much as his words. All three held the flavor of an apology.

  “That is true,” he said, squeezing her arm with his fingers.

  Jet had already gone back to mapping the long room.

  She noted the transparent walls that Richter and Laksri described to her, and that hadn’t been present in the practice arena, either. She also mapped the locations of doors in the floor and in two of the walls. Some of the doors had panels in the outside walls, which meant she could trigger them herself, if she wasn’t careful. Memorizing the exact location of each of the triggers, as well as the dimension and locations of the doors themselves, her mind took in the rest of the room with equal care.

  Seventeen steps up to the lowest platform...fifteen steps from that to the mud pit, below...

  Full length jump from platform two to platform three...

  Only way off five is that rope thing...probably motorized so no way of knowing when it will come around unless they map it to the projection...

  ...Cluster of those weapons tubes right next to the top of the third ladder...will need to ride that sucker down on the rails before they can trigger that bunch...

  ...Pool height exactly twice the length of platform six...could definitely make that in a jump. Leave open as an escape route if they trap me next to that other cluster...

  Jet went through each segment of the course that way, right up until Richter nudged her. Tearing her eyes off the course, Jet found herself facing a row of Nirreth, none of which she recognized. Still, she knew who they were.

  The Rings judges.

  The judges kept the actual rules of the contest, as opposed to the Board, which voted on execution and made final decisions on each candidate’s performance. The judges would be the ones to validate actual points and kills, offering these to the Board with recommendations.

  All final decisions rested with the Board, however.

  In addition to the Rings Board and the judges, Jet knew there was also a team of operators led by an ex-Ringmaster, meaning one who had an undefeated run at the Rings of more than fifty wins. Not course wins, per se, but point wins.

  The current head of ops was a Nirreth named Trazen.

  He’d been the first Ringmaster to rise to that position in over forty years. He’d also been the youngest, which made him the youngest ops head in Nirreth history. Since the head of ops remained in their position until a new Ringmaster won the spot, the previous head had been getting pretty old when Trazen replaced him, less than a year earlier.

  Apparently, the new ops commander was good, but tough.

  Jet preferred that to what she’d heard about his predecessor.

  The last Ringmaster had been a bit ‘whimsical’ at times, Laksri said. He could be vindictive and petty, too. It was thought to be part of the reason so few contestants reached the required number of wins to qualify as Ringmaster during his tenure. From what Jet had been told, it wasn’t likely he’d been designing programs to defeat contestants in some twisted effort to hold on to his job, either.

  Everyone seemed to believe it more likely the guy was just eccentric.

  In any case, Trazen, the current Ringmaster, managed to hit the magic number in spite of this. To many, this made his accomplishment more impressive...although a few still insinuated that he’d cheated, or that he had some kind of ‘in’ with the Board.

  All of this went through Jet’s head in a rush as she stood over the row of Rings judges. She was still trying to decide what to do, when Laksri’s fingers pressured Jet’s arm, even as the impulse from his mind reached her.

  Kneel.

  Jet dropped to one knee without thought.

  Luckily, the floor before the judges’ table was carpeted.

  Silence fell over the crowd. It was spooky how complete it was...far closer to a real silence than the same number of humans would ever manage. Not only did they stop talking, they stopped moving. They seemed almost to stop breathing, their postures eerily uniform as Jet glanced up and around her. The effect was like turning off a radio.

  When Jet looked up next, the judge in the middle, a male Nirreth with dark, seaweed-green eyes, was staring at her.

  “Who owns this mammal?” he said.

  Jet flinched, although she knew his wording was a formality, too.

  Behind her, a familiar voice answered.

  “Kraken Mosendre, Seventh Brother of the Supreme Royal Leader...Father of Olgidan Mosendre, divine eldest son of the same family and future Supreme Royal Leader of the Greater Realm of Asteti, Forever-Blessed Empire of the Stars...”

  Richter intoned the words formally.

  Maybe it was in her mind, but Jet still heard the barest edge of insolence in his voice.

  To her left, Laksri repeated the same words, only in Nargili.

  When both finished, the judge in the center leaned back in his chair, glancing to the four other judges in turn, two on either side of where he sat.

  Jet remained where she was, her head lowered. Out of her peripheral vision, she still attempted to go over the map she was building in her head. As a result, Laksri had to tap her shoulder when she missed the center judge speaking to her.

  When she refocused on him, the Nirreth with the green eyes laughed, then said something to the other judges. When the others laughed with him, Jet glanced up at Laksri, who still had one hand protectively on her neck.

  They think you are nervous... Jet felt through his skin.

  That time, when the judge looked at her, pity shone in his dark green eyes, as well as a more subtle shade of regret.

  “You enter this contest willingly, human?” he said in heavily-accented English.

  Jet was hard-pressed to stifle a disbelieving snort. Luckily, they’d prepared her for this question, too, so she managed to keep her expression open, even enthusiastic. At Laksri’s warning squeeze, Jet forced herself to nod, gritting her teeth only a little.

  “I am willing,” she said. “It is an honor to fight in the Rings...”

  When she said it, it even almost felt true.

  After everything she’d been through the last few weeks, she was ready to do this. Also, Jet was so happy to have Black back at her side, that fact alone made her strangely confident. If a negative outcome didn’t likely mean being forced into the humiliating position of mommy-slash-lover to the next Nirreth king, Jet might even be looking forward to the challenge.

  She could almost understand how Tyra felt about this.

  Almost.

  As it was, she felt her legs shaking as she rose slowly to her feet, even with the venom. She knew it stemmed as much from adrenaline as fear, but still willed it away almost angrily as she straightened to her full height, which admittedly, wasn’t all that impressive. When Laksri touched her shoulder that time, she had to bite her lip to keep from shoving his fingers off.

  Even so, his hand exuded reassurance, a near-humor.

  It is good, he thought through her skin. We want them to underestimate you.

  With the thought, she felt a pulse of excitement on him...coupled with a harder thread of desire. That time, instead of pulling it back, he let it linger.

  I want you, he told her, quieter. The boy isn’t wrong.

  Jet looked up at him, startled.

  He released her before she could think of an answer.

  She just stood there, between the three of them, unable to incorporate that new information with the rest of what whirled in her head. Briefly, it crossed her mind to wonder if Laksri told her that deliberately to throw her off, or if he really thought it was a good idea to lay that on her now, five minutes before trigger-happy Rings operators aimed live rounds of ammunition at her head.

  Throwing both thoughts out of her mind, Jet went back to the map, letting her eyes roam across the eight corners of the walled cage, and then higher, when she saw the hatch that led to a whole other level above that. Remembering what Alice to
ld her about thinking in three-dimensions, Jet found herself smiling a bit, in spite of herself, even as she made sure she had the location of each hatch mapped exactly.

  Even as she thought about Alice, Jet saw her.

  Alice’s hair had been done up as well, and she wore elaborate make-up that hinted of some exotic origin, coupled with a dark gray shirt that emphasized the severe lines of her muscular frame. Her feet wore jeweled, close-toed sandals. Jerking her eyes off the severe-faced woman, Jet focused back on the track, taking it all in again while she still had the chance.

  Overall, the course was a brighter, cleaner and slightly larger version of the model Laksri showed her from Astet.

  Given that the Astet model was probably a hundred years older, if not more, Jet was a little surprised how little the basics had changed. The fake mountains and rocks, structures to climb on and jump to (or from), the moveable tracks, the mud pit, sand pit, large and small ponds, the ladder and hanging ropes...very few areas of variation existed between this version and that original model, apart from the larger body of water, and that had to be because Nirreth couldn’t swim. They even managed to simulate space by using steel cables and timed freefalls, along with sensory generators in the projections themselves.

  From what Alice told Jet, she could expect a lot more elaborate challenges in the real thing, compared to anything they threw at her in practice. They let new contestants train, yes, but they were still supposed to be coming in relatively fresh. The judges wanted an idea of their potential and versatility...versus a win based on memorizing a particular set of variables.

  Beyond that, at least a percentage of the ammunition would be live, even in this ‘trial’ run. In terms of points, the difference between live and virtual would be minimal, but a live round could incapacitate her in a much more permanent way...or wound her so badly that she couldn’t dodge the virtual rounds, either.