They could survive outside the Green Zone dome.
Maybe that was it, they looked like they could take care of themselves.
Many had come without Nirreth owners. Even so, Jet got the sense they were more than willing to hook up with the several dozen unpaired Nirreth who also showed up...and definitely comfortable getting stung by the right one. In fact, a lot of them seemed to be there looking for Nirreth companionship, if only for the evening.
A number of those same humans looked Trazen over, Jet couldn’t help noticing.
She suspected some of them recognized him from broadcasts around the Rings, and for the first time it really sank in that Trazen was a celebrity too. He was definitely more of a celebrity than Laksri had been prior to his being named First Son. Until recently, Jet always thought of Trazen as a kind of human-hating bully…if not an outright psychopath and a killer.
It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would have his own fan club.
It also hadn’t occurred to her that he’d have a lot of humans throwing themselves at him, simply because of his status as Ringmaster.
Well, she thought, looking over his body and face. Maybe not only for that reason.
He definitely fell into the good-looking camp for Nirreth, now that she’d adjusted to seeing their features and bodies that way. His gold-flecked eyes held an intensity that she couldn’t help finding fascinating...and while she knew some of that was the venom, that wasn’t all of it. He had a well-formed mouth and jaw, symmetrical features, a muscular body and deep blue skin that shimmered under the dimmer lights of the warehouse-like space. He also carried himself as a fighter, which seemed to be an attraction for human females no matter what the race of the male.
Either way, Jet noticed more and longer stares aimed at Trazen than at her.
She got some jealous scowls, too.
More than a few females and at least one male frowned pointedly at the pendant Trazen wore on the copper-colored chain, right before they stared aggressively at her. She saw a number of them studying her face with shrewd eyes, as well…likely noting the lack of venom in her and speculating as to what it meant.
Plenty of Nirreth and humans recognized Jet too, of course.
She got a few requests for autographs, and a few Nirreth males watched her with swishing tails, studying her face for signs of venom too. But it wasn’t the normal center crowd, Jet couldn’t help noticing. No one rushed her or tried to take clippings of her hair or even tried to touch her inappropriately. No one tried to touch either of them until she and Trazen approached the bar, and then it was a human rubbing up against Trazen, smiling into his face.
“Looking for fresh blood tonight, Ringmaster?” the dress-wearing girl asked him.
She looked young to Jet, even younger than her, so maybe seventeen. She also wore a lot of make-up, and shoes with heels so high they made her balance teeter. From the glassiness of her possibly contact-colored eyes, she was at least a little drunk.
Jet stiffened when the girl smirked at her blatantly, pressing deeper against Trazen’s side before she looked back up at him.
Trazen didn’t move out of the way, Jet noticed.
“Well?” the girl slurred, batting her eyelashes up at him. “What do you think, Ringmaster?”
Jet fought not to roll her eyes. She directed her words at Trazen, disentangling his hand from her arm. “I’m getting a drink. Do you want anything?”
Looking over, he narrowed his eyes at her, flicking his tail behind him before he wrapped it around her waist.
“I’ll come with you,” he said.
She didn’t answer, but felt her jaw harden. She was surprised to feel Trazen’s tail tighten around her. He didn’t speak until they’d walked away from the girl altogether.
“Are you jealous?” he said, his voice neutral.
She looked over at him, fighting not to snap at him. Forcing herself silent when she saw the scrutiny in his eyes, she shrugged.
“Hardly. I’m just not in the mood to watch.”
When she met his gaze next, he frowned at her, pulling her closer to him with his tail.
“Are you telling the truth?” he said.
“Do you want me to be jealous?” she returned shortly, glancing down at his tail before she looked up at him again. “I thought you were doing the First Son’s bidding these days? Doesn’t that make me off-limits?”
She knew Trazen would know which First Son she meant. Even so, she was startled at the anger that abruptly hardened his expression. He released her with his tail before she’d recovered from her surprise at the intensity she saw in his dark eyes.
“Why are we here, Jet?” he said, his voice cold.
“I thought you wanted to come,” she said.
He just looked at her for a moment. Then he exhaled loudly, ending on a near-growl. Before she could say anything more, he walked away from her, lashing his tail behind him as he aimed his feet for the table where they seemed to be dispensing drinks.
Before Jet could decide if she should follow him, someone grabbed her arm from the other side. They grabbed her strongly enough that Jet stiffened all over again, falling into a near fighting stance before she turned.
She found herself facing Tyra.
Tyra wearing a lot of make-up and a short, shimmery dress that was blood red. Jet almost didn’t recognize her at first, but after a blink she found herself making out her dark eyes and the shape of her smile, even under the dark red lipstick.
“Whoa there, cowgirl...” Tyra said, grinning at her. “Damn, you’re jumpy. Second time today I thought you were going to punch me in the face...”
Without waiting, she handed Jet a drink, a pale blue, frothy thing that Jet recognized. It was some kind of berry thing mixed with water and a few other juices, but the Nirreth fermented it, making it almost like a strong wine.
“Thanks,” she muttered, flushing a little.
Tyra waved her off, grinning. “I’ve got to play the host a little bit, right? I invited you.”
She looked Jet over as Jet took a sip of the drink. As Jet lowered the glass, coughing at little at how strong it was, Tyra smiled again, whistling softly at her.
“Damn, girl. You clean up good. Better than a sense-suit.”
Jet glanced down at her own clothes, folding her arms self-consciously without letting go of the glass. She’d worn a dress, one almost as short as the one Tyra wore, although Jet’s was sky blue and slightly less form-fitting than the other Ring fighter’s. Jet wore make-up as well, although she’d almost forgotten about it since they’d gotten here.
“Yeah, well,” Jet said, forcing a smile. She lifted the glass in a mock toast, taking another sip of the blue liquid. “It’s a party, right?”
“Is Trazen here?” Tyra said.
Lowering her glass a second time, Jet glanced up as a male Nirreth sidled up to Tyra. It took her a few seconds to recognize him as Anslom. She hadn’t seen him outside of trainings before either, and looking him over now in a dark purple, velvet-textured tunic and black leggings, she realized he was another good-looking male Nirreth. The fact had escaped her before now, if only because it hadn’t occurred to Jet to notice.
“Hey, eyes to yourself,” Tyra said, nudging Jet’s arm playfully.
Despite the teasing tone, Jet heard a real warning in her words.
Before she could decide how to react, Anslom wrapped his tail around Tyra’s waist, purring in his chest. The sound carried flavors of both humor and desire, both prominent enough that Jet averted her gaze, refolding her arms tighter.
Taking another drink of the blue liquid, she fought with whether to apologize, confused by the idea for some reason.
In the end, she decided to ignore it.
“He’s here,” she said, answering Tyra’s question about Trazen belatedly.
She scanned faces in the crowd, if only for an excuse to look away from Tyra and her Nirreth boyfriend, who were now looking at one another and probably talking via the venom.
Tyra had at least a few good stings in her system, Jet figured, given how glassy her eyes were. She carried her own drink, too, although it wasn’t blue like the one she’d given Jet.
Neither of them looked over at Jet’s words.
Jet glanced in the direction she’d last seen Trazen, still fighting discomfort.
“He’s over there, I think,” she said, motioning vaguely with the hand holding the glass. She craned her head, motioning with her head next as she fingered the edge of her glass. “Probably surrounded by his groupies...” she muttered.
Tyra laughed, finally looking over.
“Someone’s jealous,” she smiled. “Is that why you were scoping my guy?”
“I wasn’t scoping,” Jet mumbled, feeling her face grow hotter.
Tyra bumped her with her arm, laughing. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve seen who you stare at...just like I’ve seen who stares at you.” Her eyes grew shrewder again, more skag-like. “I guess you got over your other boy, eh? Laks? Not like you had much choice.”
Jet felt her scowl deepen.
“Hey, hey...just giving you a hard time,” Tyra laughed. “I know how it is.”
“No,” Jet said, giving her a stare. “You don’t.”
Tyra nodded in a diplomatic way, but continued to smile, her eyes holding a knowing look that irritated Jet even more. Before she could decide what to say, she saw Tyra’s gaze refocus, staring at someone who stood behind Jet, in the direction of the drink dispensors.
“Not that I blame you on the Trazen front,” Tyra murmured. “He’s not bad to look at, is he? Clearly, we’re not the only two who think so.”
Anslom let out a low growl at Tyra’s words.
Jet barely heard that, though.
She’d already followed the other woman’s stare.
She found Trazen on the other end of it, looking a lot less annoyed than the last time she’d seen him. His jointed fingers wrapped around a squat glass as well, although his was filled with a pale green liquid rather than the blue one Jet held. She watched him bow slightly to the person who’d just approached him, one of those subtle Nirreth smiles on his narrow lips. Trazen didn’t move away when that same person embraced him. Moving his hand with the glass out of the way to keep from spilling it, he coiled his other hand into her hair, stroking it before he let go.
Jet found herself focusing on the woman there as her jaw hardened.
Something about her was almost...familiar.
Obviously Trazen knew her, but Jet found herself thinking she might know her, too. She had trouble placing that familiarity, though.
“Shall we go interrupt?” Tyra said, her voice holding that knowing smile again.
“No,” Jet said.
Tyra laughed, but Jet didn’t look over.
Knowing she’d already been caught staring, she also didn’t bother to look away.
Instead, she fought to keep her expression neutral while her eyes remained on Trazen and the woman clutching his arm. She couldn’t help noticing that the blond-haired woman wore a short dress as well, one shorter than hers and dark green. Her dress was low-cut in the back, baring her unmarked skin nearly to the base of her spine. Unlike most of the women here, she didn’t look like a fighter, or even much like a skag.
The woman smiled as she talked to him, her hand small and pale on his dark arm.
“No,” Jet said again, her voice more subdued. She gave Tyra a taut smile. “He doesn’t get out much. We should leave him alone.”
Even to her, her voice sounded cold.
“So?” Tyra said humorously. “Why do you think you’d be bothering him exactly, Jet? Why would he mind his companion approaching him?”
Jet looked back at Trazen and the strange woman, even as it hit her suddenly why she recognized her. She had seen her before. In fact, she’d seen her with Trazen. Jet now remembered the woman’s face and body from one of those expensive-seeming restaurants in the center, probably an outing following one of her Rings matches.
It might even have been the first time she’d met Trazen...or maybe the second or third time.
It was definitely back when she still was still owned by the Royals.
Back then, Trazen always seemed to have half-naked women on his arm. All of them had been beautiful. All of them had been stoned to the gills on his venom. As a result, it was hard to remember particulars on which time it had been that Jet saw this one.
She was fairly certain she had, though.
She recognized her wide eyes, even if the woman had changed a lot.
Also, although Jet didn’t remember the exact timing of their first meeting, she remembered that this woman had been wearing almost no clothes the first time she saw her, too. She’d been high on venom of course, but under that, Jet remembered thinking that the woman had looked deeply unhappy. At the time, Jet had assumed Trazen was the source of that unhappiness.
Watching her chatting away with Trazen now, her hand wrapped affectionately around his muscular arm, she had her doubts, though.
Hell, she almost couldn’t believe it was the same person.
“Didn’t they used to...” Jet began. Realizing she’d spoken aloud, Jet frowned, shutting her mouth even as she glanced at Tyra.
“...Do you recognize her?” she amended, taking another drink from her glass. “That woman he’s with?”
Tyra shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink, sucking up the ruby-red liquid through a straw she held between two fingers. Jet noticed only then that Anslom had wandered off, and now stood talking to two other Nirreth.
“I don’t know her,” Tyra said, swallowing the liquid she’d sucked into her mouth. “Why? Is she one of his orphans?”
Jet tensed, right before she jerked her eyes off Trazen again.
She looked Tyra over, fighting the frown out of her voice.
“Orphans?” she said. “What does that mean?”
Tyra smiled, shaking her head perceptibly, a small smile teasing her lips. “Don’t tell me you believe his center shtick? I thought you were supposed to be smart, Tetsuo.”
“Shtick?” Jet pronounced the word carefully. “Is that a Nargili word?”
Tyra shook her head, rolling her eyes a little. “Trazen’s got to keep up appearances too, you know,” she said. “Part of that is being a badass, given who and what he is. Part of being a badass is having little regard for life...especially human life.” Tyra shrugged again, motioning around the lawn with her fingers clutching the straw. “Out here, a lot of people know the truth. Being a decent person doesn’t have the same stigma out here. The opposite, really.”
“The truth?” Jet continued to stare at her blankly. “The truth about what?”
Tyra sighed, her voice almost impatient now. “You really don’t know?”
“No,” Jet said, fighting the edge creeping into her voice. “Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about? Or not?”
Tyra exhaled sharply, her eyes still holding a faint impatience.
“Trazen,” she said, motioning in his direction with her fingers clutching the straw. “He buys humans, Jet.”
Jet frowned. “Well, obviously I know that––”
“No,” Tyra said, cutting her off and shaking her head. “I don’t mean as slaves. He buys them away from other Nirreth. It’s like a pet project of his.”
At Jet’s blank look, now edging into real annoyance, Tyra sighed again.
“You know…humans who’ve had a tough time of it,” she explained. “He buys them. Parades them around the center for awhile. Plays the asshole with them in slave-wear and chains or whatever else...then a few weeks later, when they’ve got the drugs out of their system or are healed up from whatever else is wrong with them, he lets them go. Cleans them up. Releases them back into the wild.”
At Jet’s incredulous expression, Tyra shrugged.
“He keeps it quiet. He has to. Like I said…he’s got a reputation to keep up, like everyone else. Especially now...with some of those hard-ass racists in
the center and Isreti’s fanatics wanting to rewrite all the laws. Even before he had to be careful though, under the Queen. None of his slaves are allowed to talk to the media. Once they’re free, they can’t show their faces in the center again. So they move out here.”
Tyra motioned around them once more, at the grounds and the visible buildings outside the tree-dotted field. “...They’re anonymous here. No one cares. Well...” she amended, thinking. “Most don’t care. He doesn’t really advertise it out here, either.”
There was a silence while Jet tried to absorb this, to even make sense of it.
Tyra was still watching her face when she added, “It’s pretty unusual for a Nirreth, you know. To risk their necks like that, especially given the political climate right now. Usually only the religious ones do things like that...and there aren’t a lot of religious Nirreth left these days. Those who are religious keep pretty quiet about it.”
Something about the way she said it made Jet think Tyra was fishing.
But fishing for what? Intel on Trazen? Why? Was she implying Trazen might be religious? The thought bewildered Jet a little, as did Tyra’s interest in Trazen in the first place. Even if he was religious––whatever that even meant to a Nirreth––how on Earth would Jet know anything about that?
Pretending not to notice the question mark at the end of Tyra’s words, Jet took a drink of the blue liquid without responding.
Still watching Jet’s face, Tyra smiled, her voice puzzled.
“They call them Trazen’s orphans,” she said. “You really didn’t know about this? He stings you all the time, doesn’t he? How could you not know?”
Jet didn’t answer, but felt her jaw harden.
Oh. That.
That’s why Tyra thought Jet would know.
Jet looked back at Trazen, fighting the disbelief out of her expression when she saw the female human’s arm wrapped around his waist.
Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV) Page 73