“...Due to the exceptional outcome of this preliminary Rings match,” it began. Jet saw the Nirreth himself smile during those first words, even as a bit of that pleasure reached his voice. “...We have no choice but to award this contestant full status as a member of the Rings fighting corp. Her team will be chosen over the next three-week period. Untagging of the contestant will occur immediately and full training privileges will commence in two days...”
Jet felt Laksri stiffen at Metzet’s words, but she barely noticed as her mind spun around them as well, trying to make sense of what they meant.
Had he said untagging? Had that been translated right? Didn’t that happen after the fifth match only? Why would they do that in two days?
But the Honorable Metzet was still speaking, so Jet forced her mind back on the translated words leaving the speakers, aware she’d already missed more than a handful of them.
“...Ranking will occur this week, once data has been compiled from the record of the match and the special skill set of the contestant has been evaluated in full. Since this skill set is a new one in the history of the Rings, we will need the imput of the Rings operators to assess its worth in terms of actual matches...as well as the relative advantages it might give its owner...”
A lot of this muddled in Jet’s head.
She could tell from the rising tone of murmurs in the larger crowd, as well as the tense faces of Alice and Laksri that what was happening was not quite what they expected.
No one in the crowd called or cried out, probably because they wanted to hear all of Honorable Metzet’s words, but Jet could definitely hear and feel the tension building as he continued to speak.
Unfortunately, she had no idea what it meant.
She had to assume, based on Alice and Laksri’s reactions, that whatever was happening, it was both unusual and not-good.
“...No restrictions in contestant and owner selection of crew,” the translation program continued cheerfully as Metzet intoned in the same voice as before, only slightly more bored-sounding now. “...Due to the shortened period available to the contestant and her owner in terms of choosing a satisfactory and competitive team, contestant will be granted full access to all available candidates through a formal interview process to be organized by the Boards within the solar week. Screening will be done and viable selections offered for approval starting in four days, following removal of the implant...”
The male Nirreth’s words were sinking in for Jet now, but she still wasn’t sure what to do with them. When Laksri moved closer to her once more, she found herself doing the same, closing the gap between them even more.
Metzet droned on for a few seconds more, but Jet understood very little of the actual words, even though she tried very hard to listen to the more cheerful-sounding translations. The latter words were in English, but her mind could only hear them as individual snippets of sound, without pulling the meaning from their cadence. She just stood there, in a bit of a daze and now openly tired as her side and her shoulder began to throb. Still soaking wet, she shivered a bit, and Laksri once more wrapped his tail around her, as if feeling the cold through her skin. Still, the machine continued to translate Metzet’s words dutifully, the voice still carrying that odd cheeriness as Jet did her best to make sense of the meaning.
“...Since we already have offers of sponsorship for the candidate, even beyond the Royal family to which the creature claims ownership, these petitions will be forwarded to the owners for consideration as well, along with any bids for matches with other favored contestants who would wish to test her skills...”
Laksri gave Jet a somewhat worried look as the machine translated that part.
After Metzet continued speaking, the machine added,
“...It is now at the owner’s discretion of course, since we are releasing the creature of her trial status as of today. However, we will not approve any such challenge matches for at least one moon of this world, due to the need to collect a real score for her rankings, which is said to only occur...” Laksri looked at her again, his face slightly more relieved as the mechanized voice continued. “...After ten full matches against the skills of the Rings operators themselves, who are well-versed in testing for the true weaknesses and strengths of any candidate...” it finished, speaking somewhat more quickly, as if to catch up with the Honorable Metzet, whose voice continued in that hitching, uneven cadence.
Jet didn’t really catch much of the rest of it.
She didn’t realize how much she’d tuned out the ‘Voice of the Rings,’ or his translator, until Metzet stopped speaking.
After a pause, Laksri squeezed her arm lightly in his fingers.
“He asked,” Laksri murmured softly, obviously repeating the question for the machine. “...If you can agree to these conditions, and accept the honor of promotion to the status of full contestant, as the Board has decreed...”
Looking up at Laksri’s face, Jet saw the answer she was supposed to give in his eyes, along with a more subtle thread of nerves underneath.
Feeling her heartbeat quicken under that stare, Jet answered without thought, giving the only answer left to give at that point.
“I accept,” Jet said, in Nargili, facing Metzet once more. “...And I thank you very much for this honor,” she added in the same language, letting enthusiasm reach her voice, along with a smile. She bowed formally to the Board in exactly the way Alice taught her, just two days earlier...which now felt more like two years ago.
“...Thank you,” she said again. “Honorable members of the Board...you have granted me my highest wish.”
When she came up from the full bow, the stadium finally erupted.
Another round of deafening cheers and yells and pounding tails shook the ground under Jet’s feet and forced a wider smile to her lips.
She met the gaze of the Honorable Metzet, and that time, he was smiling, too, his lips quirked in that half-lift as his head inclined in acceptance of her words and the bow that accompanied them.
The rest of the Board seemed pacified as well, watching her with grudging approval, a few even flicking their tails sideways in that gesture of friendliness Jet had seen other Nirreth do when they wanted to indicate acceptance.
When Jet glanced at that female Nirreth who had been watching her before, however, the woman’s eyes remained thoughtful, despite the faint smile on her lips. Jet was still watching the female’s face when she bowed her head in Jet’s direction, a sign of respect, but also one that could be acknowledging her as an opponent.
Something in the gesture made Jet nervous all over again, even as it occurred to her again that the female definitely knew she was hiding more than a photographic memory and a few tricks with her sword.
Pushing this out of her mind and off her face, Jet turned to the crowd, grinning widely.
While they continued to cheer, she unsheathed Black, holding it up with both arms outstretched in the old human sign of victory.
Whether or not they knew what it meant, the Nirreth in the crowd loved it.
The cheers and pounding of tails and feet shook the stadium walls, even as Jet’s diminutive form once more filled the giant monitors.
The reaction Jet didn’t expect was Richter’s.
He smiled and clapped her on the shoulder with the rest of them in the changing area under the stadium seats, laughing along with Nirreth and human reporters as Jet answered their questions about what had been the scariest part of nearly being eaten by an alligator (“It’s teeth,” Jet told them jokingly, which made them all laugh and swish their tails in approval), and what worried her most about trying to detonate a hole in the side of the Nirreth command ship, (“Drowning,” she replied, just as easily, once more delighting the Nirreth reporters).
She’d managed to hold on to her smile through most of their barrage of questions, but her muscles and the wounds had started to throb for real by the time they took her through the blow-by-blow to the end of the four-hour course, including every
element of her thought process as she advanced through each subsequent segment and obstacle.
Richter didn’t say a word while the Rings physicians looked at her, either.
He merely stood there, watching as they smeared a thick gel on the wound on her hip after they cleaned it, applying more of the same to the cut under her hairline. They gave her a number of shots (“for no infections,” Laksri informed her), and checked her eyes, ears, head and even her teeth before pronouncing her intact. They put a different kind of gel on her shoulder where she’d wrenched it. Whatever it was, spread heat seemingly down to the bones, making Jet’s whole body feel relaxed and so loose she had trouble lifting her arms.
Richter waited patiently with the others while she showered, washing all of the make-up and remaining gunk out of her hair and off her skin.
He waited as well while she dressed afterwards, throwing on one of the “outside” outfits that Alice had brought with her, so that Jet could ditch the sense-suit following the match.
Richter even offered to take them all out to dinner after they’d debriefed.
He smiled at her as he said it, even as he led them to a conference room they’d already swept for wires and other listening devices inside the underground gardens. They’d met in the same garden two days earlier, so Jet only nodded back, barely hearing him.
But once Jet walked into the room and Richter closed the door behind her, he turned on her, grabbing her upper arms in both hands and glaring into her face. Before she could recover enough to pull back, he shook her, hard enough to rattle her teeth.
“Just what the hell did you think you were doing in there?”
“What?”
“You heard me!” He shook her again, hard enough to disorient her, forcing her to clutch at his wrists. “Why did you do it? Are you trying to get us all killed?”
Laksri immediately appeared at Jet’s side, his tail lashing dangerously at Richter, his teeth close to bared. When Richter gave her another rough shake, Laksri inserted himself between them as soon as Jet wrenched herself free of Richter’s grasp.
“Stay out of this, Laks,” Richter warned, holding up a hand. “She royally screwed us...and you know it...”
Laksri’s dark eyes grew harder though, and eventually Richter backed down, still glaring at Jet even as he ran a hand through his brown hair, tugging at the gold streak of color on the back of his head.
“Well?” he said. “What the hell happened?”
“What happened?” Jet said, bursting out in an incredulous laugh.
Still more surprised at his reaction than angry, she felt her jaw harden as she stared at him, feeling strangely defensive.
“...What do you mean, what happened?” she said, taking another step back. “...No one told me there was a whole other underground level to the course! No one told me I’d have to fight a twenty-foot alligator in my home city, within minutes of escaping a culler...or that I’d nearly drown...” She clenched her jaw at the rage that rose to Richter’s expression. “What the hell do you think happened? I was trying to stay alive in there! When I realized I blew it on the points by going underground, I figured I had to win the course, or I’d never make it to round two!”
“We told you not to win it!” Richter shouted.
“Yeah!” Jet said, just as angrily. “You also told me to impress them! To get as many points as I could! To give them a good show! I screwed up the first part, so I was trying to compensate!”
“A show?” Richter said, raising his voice above hers. “Compensate? I meant wave the sword around a bit! Let your costume get ripped so they saw some skin. Get at least one, good, bloody kill...”
“I did that!” Jet said, shouting back at him.
“You treated it like a damned military op!” Richter snarled, stepping forward so that Laksri once more inserted himself between them, placing a warning hand against Richter’s chest.
The human barely noticed though, craning his head around Laksri to glare at Jet.
“...You have half of them thinking you’ve got formal military training, do you know that? I’ve already been called in for interrogations around where exactly we found you...who your known relatives and associates are back in that underground dung heap in Canada you crawled out of...”
Jet paled, looking between Richter and then Anaze, who stood off a few paces by a low table, his arms folded.
Anaze’s narrow features were set in a kind of impenetrable mask, his eyes on hers as if he were trying to think of something to say, although whether in her defense or to back up his father, Jet couldn’t tell. In any case, he didn’t look angry, like Richter did. His expression held something closer to worry, along with a faint thread of sympathy. Replaying Richter’s words in her mind, Jet felt her fingers clench into fists by her sides.
“You have had some training,” Richter said, staring at her as if a sudden understanding just reached him. He gave Anaze a near-threatening stare, then looked back at Jet.
“Who?” he demanded. “Who was it?”
“I don’t have training,” Jet said, irritated, but she stared at the floor anyway, her arms crossed as her chest tightened.
“Don’t lie to me, kitten!” Richter growled. “Whoever it is, you’ve made them a target. We’ll be able to relocate them, if you give me a name...”
Jet shook her head angrily, but exhaled after his words penetrated.
“My uncle, Draven,” she said reluctantly. “And his wife, Lara. But they didn’t train me...”
“Whatever they did, it was enough,” Richter grunted, his eyes still furious where they trained briefly on Anaze. He looked back at Jet, his face still taut. “Gods almighty, girl. Don’t you realize that no human or Nirreth has ever won the Rings at their first match? Not once? Didn’t you think this might put you a bit in the spotlight, pulling a stunt like this?”
Jet could only gape at him.
“Never?” she said, closing her mouth with a snap. “How is that possible? I mean...they didn’t even shoot at me that much...”
Richter gave a humorless laugh, but Anaze spoke up before he could, bringing Jet’s eyes back to his narrow face.
“You have to understand, Jet,” he said, making a gesture with one hand that bordered on apologetic. “...They calibrate the matches for the individual players. That actually cushions things a bit. Because you’re the first female human who’s ever run a match––”
“What about Tyra?” Jet said, interrupting without thought.
“She hasn’t done first fight yet,” Laksri said. “She runs her first match next week. One from today. Understand?”
But Jet continued to stare between them.
“They ran me before Tyra?” she said. “Why?”
In addition to being about four inches taller than Jet, and twice as muscular, Tyra could actually fight. Jet had seen her often enough in the training area that she’d had more than a few daydreams, and not the fun kind, of being stuck in a blind alley with Tyra during a Rings match, minus Black and with no way out. She had absolutely zero illusions about who would come out of that scenario alive, no matter how much she might like Tyra as a person otherwise.
They’d developed a sort of comradely rapport in the past few weeks, but Jet knew Tyra was serious about having a long-term career in the Rings. Jet knew exactly who would come out ahead and who far, far behind in a real one-on-one match between them.
Laksri only shrugged at her question, though.
“We think the dates were changed,” he said. “...Maybe by one in Ogli’s camp. The change happened not long after we present you and I together...in public. There is good chance they want this match sooner...so I cannot help you so much in the Rings.”
Jet felt her jaw clench. “But if what Anaze said is right, then that was a really easy course, right? I mean, if they thought I was some dumb, helpless female, then it’s just a matter of them underestimating me, right...? So how does that hurt us?”
Thinking about this, Jet frowned, rea
lizing something else.
“...Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “Tyra’s not going to thank me for that. They’ll assume she’ll do better than me, once they see her...”
Richter made an irritated sound, one that approximated one of Laksri’s snorts.
“You still don’t get it, kitten,” he said. “Photographic memory or no, I’m beginning to think you’re missing a few crucial pieces upstairs...”
Jet was about to snap back at him, but Anaze stepped forward, holding up a hand before she could speak.
“...The thing is, Jet,” Anaze said. “That wasn’t an easy course. It was supposed to be, but it wasn’t...and we weren’t the only ones who noticed. We went along with it, pretending it was, and joking that we warned them that you might surprise them, but everyone knows they threw a difficult course at you, one that was all about the objective and not a points-based challenge, and that you made a fool out of them. They knew you’d be forced to go after the objective because they didn’t give you the usual, point-based runs, not until the very end. They were thinking you wouldn’t get that far.”
“But why?” Jet said, dumbfounded. “Why would they do that? Did Olgi pay them off or something?”
“Possible, yes,” Laksri said, inclining his head to the right. “But we do not think so.” He motioned at Anaze and Richter. “Maybe this is too elaborate for Olgi...unless someone advises him. We think maybe they do this to embarrass Royals...crush their owned human player in first match. Maybe because they don’t agree with Queen’s policy, about humans...or on colonial powers. Maybe for some other reason...”
Jet thought this through, then faced Richter again.
“So, how is any of this my fault, exactly?” she said.
“Now we have both sides looking at us,” Anaze explained, once more speaking for his father. “Whoever rigged your match, and now the Royals, too, are asking questions about who you really are, what your background is, Jet. The idea was to make them trust you, to give them reason to invite you deeper into their world...make you a star who would increase their prestige and make them money in the Rings’ gambling pools.
Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV) Page 37