The Martian King: The Slave Planet II

by Seven Steps

  Behind her, she saw Lex and Arees stumbling to follow.

  Together, they passed through into the brilliant light.

  ~()~()~()~()~

  “On your feet, get your clothes, and get out,” someone yelled.

  They were surrounded by grey walls and a dull, grey checkerboard floor. Clean, pressed, green pants, white shirts, and boots were laid out on the table in front of them. A strange disinfectant smell hung in the air.

  Kiln grabbed a hand full of clothes and set Nadira down on the ground. He started to dress her.

  “You have to walk on your own. If they see that you’re weak, they will kill you.”

  “They’re going to kill us, anyway.”

  Another beep.

  A countdown of one minute appeared on the wall.

  Nadira looked up at Kiln. He was hurriedly pulling on his shirt and trying to find a pair of boots.

  “Is this the last time that I’m going to see you?”

  “No. Don’t think that way.”

  15 SECONDS. LEAVE THIS AREA.

  He grabbed her hand and raced through the open doors.

  Another beep, and the door closed behind them.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Dark Moon of Planet Calmot

  Gomorrah Prison

  Gomorrah Prison was the final destination for the traitorous and the vile, those for whom death was deemed too sweet. It was manned by a few guards whose only task was to dole out flavorless, hot porridge at eight hour intervals. There was no escaping Gomorrah or the barren, waterless rock that held it.

  Nadira, Kiln, Lex and Arees stepped onto the second floor of the prison. The air was aged, warmed with a ripe mixture of sweat, mold, and a stench so potent that it coated their tongues. The inside of Gomorrah formed a large circle with an open middle. There were four levels of oozing, mold covered, rough stone walls. Rusted prison bars were torn away from their holds, either by time or by inmate’s hands, leaving only broken and warped cells. A glass viewing area wrapped around the prison above their heads. Loud noises echoed from the bottom level. No one seemed to be on the top floor.

  Lex looked around him. “Do you see any guards?”

  “No,” Kiln replied. “There are no guards inside Gomorrah. Only out there.” He jerked a thumb to the door they had just walked out of.

  Nadira’s eyes darted around the prison. “What kind of place is this?”

  Kiln frowned. “It’s where they put you to die.”

  A cheer rang out beneath them. Nadira looked over the ledge. Barely ten feet of concrete separated the cells from edge of the ledge. She felt Kiln hold on to the back of her shirt.

  Within a red circle painted on the ground, two shirtless men clawed, punched, kicked and thrashed in an effort to maim each other. One grabbed the others head and bit into his neck, ripping out a chunk of flesh, blood and veins. The other man gurgled and fell face first to the concrete floor, blood gushing around him. He shook violently for a moment before he stilled. The victor spat out the flesh onto the dead man’s back, wiped the blood from his face with the back of one hand and held up his arms in triumph.

  The crowd cheered.

  One of the crowd, a tall, bald man, met Nadira’s eye.

  “Women!” He cried.

  The crowd collectively turned and looked in their direction.

  “Women!”

  The army of men rushed toward them, falling over themselves as they ascended the stairways.

  With nowhere to go, Venians braced themselves for the onslaught.

  Nadira’s heart pounded. She looked around for some escape. Behind them was a flight of stairs that went down two levels. To her right was the door that they just came out of. To her left was the ledge. And more than a hundred men were taking stairs three at a time, screaming their way toward her. She felt the blood pound in her ears as she took a step back.

  We’re going to die here. Or worse.

  She spied two guards behind the clear glass window over her right shoulder, just above the door. They were dressed in black trousers, black caps that covered their eyes, and black short sleeve shirts that had some sort of logo on the chest. And they were staring. Amused.

  “Help us!” she screamed at them. “Please!”

  The guard to the left, the shorter one, made a gesture to his ear, as if he couldn’t hear her.

  Before she could plead her case, the first inmates reached them. It was the victor of the previous fight. Lex ran toward him and pushed him over the ledge. The man’s screams were lost in the madness of the crowd.

  Kiln and Lex took their stance, creating as much of a barrier as they could between the inmates and the women.

  One of them gripped Lex’s shirt, sent a fist flying across his face, and dragged him toward the ledge. Kiln, taking a running start, threw his forearm into the man’s throat, knocking him over the ledge instead.

  Nadira and Arees threw themselves at the inmates, arms and legs flying, trying to connect with any body part within reach. Throat, groin, instep. Fear drove them to fight for their own survival. They were determined to take down as many of the men as they could before their own demise.

  “Enough!”

  The crowd immediately silenced, parted. A man made his way through and stood before them.

  He was tall. His head was clean-shaven, but his light brown beard was long, touching the front of his chest. His white T-shirt was ripped down the middle. His camouflage pants hung low on his muscular hips. His torso was covered in bruises, slashes, and one set of teeth marks directly over his liver.

  He walked to each of them and quickly looked them over. After studying Kiln for longer than the others, he took a step back toward the inmates, arms folded over his chest.

  “I am Dorian. This is my prison.”

  A horrible stench emanated from his mouth, making Nadira’s eyes water.

  “What do you intend to do with us?” Lex asked, holding onto his side where he had been viciously kicked.

  “The women will be taken to the Cherry. You and your friends will come with me. Take them to the circle.”

  Immediately the crowd split in two, pulling the two women in one direction and the two men in the other.

  Fear seized Nadira as they were prodded down a flight of steps to the fourth level. She called out to Arees but a sea of pungent bodies separated them. They were unceremoniously thrown into a cell, it’s rusted doors slammed shut.

  The cells grey cement floor was spotless. There was one white, porcelain toilet against the back wall but no sink. The cell was illuminated by the lights in the main prison. The walls had been torn out, allowing them to walk the entire circuit of the fourth level without leaving their cell. There were chalk drawings of flowers, and trees along the back wall.

  A voice came from the cell door, “Why, hello there!” A skinny, pale inmate with straggly brown shoulder length hair and wide brown eyes greeted them. His nose was sharp, his neck long and his lips small. He reminded Nadira of a pelican.

  He handed them both hot bowls of porridge and cups of water through the cell bars.

  “My name is Lot,” he said softly. “I’ll be in charge of you.”

  “In charge of us?” Nadira asked.

  “Yes. We don’t get many women here. So when we do, it’s my job to keep them alive and healthy. Don’t worry. Just, relax. Eat. You’ll be fine.”

  “What are they going to do to us, Lot?” Arees’ voice shook.

  “The men fight. The guards give the winner meat. Dorian gives the winner a cherry. That’s the way it goes.”

  “A cher-” Nadira’s eyes widened. She backed away to the back of the cell and began to dry heave.

  “No, no, none of that now.” Lot let himself into the cell, tenderly gathering Nadira into his arms, and laying her on a nearby lumpy mattress. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a paper bag, instructing her to breathe into it.

  “That’s it. Just relax now. You’re okay. The men have been explicitly instructed not to hur
t you. We have to keep you around as long as we can. Who knows when we’ll see any more women?”

  “Lot, please,” Arees pleaded. “You can’t let this happen to us.”

  “You’ll be fine. Don’t you worry. Eat your porridge and just think happy thoughts.”

  “Lot, you seem like a decent man. We are asking for your help.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m a decent man,” his smile turned sad.

  “You are, or else why would you be so kind to us?” She stepped forward. “What did a nice man like you do to end up in a horrible place like this?”

  Lots eyes narrowed and he sucked at a spot on his front tooth. “I ate my family.”

  Nadira gasped, dropped the bag, and backed away, eyes wide in shock.

  “Not so decent now, am I?”

  Lot came closer to her, placing his nose in the hollow of her neck.

  She shivered, frozen in fear as he took a long sniff. His breath tickled her ear.

  “After the fights,” he said softly, “they let me eat what’s left.”

  He pulled his face from her neck and looked her in the eye, so close that she could see the crust long since formed in his tear ducts. He smiled at her and playfully took a bite at the air. When she flinched, he laughed and let himself out of the cell. “I’ll be back in a bit to check up on you. Just relax. It’ll all be fine.”

  With that, he was gone.

  Nadira ran to Arees side. This woman was once the thing that Nadira feared most. Now, she was her only ally in this strange place.

  “They are going to rape us to death,” she sputtered. “He is going to chew on our dead corpse.” She ran to the bars and shook them as hard as she could. They shook but didn’t break.

  “They’re not going to touch us,” Arees said, the confidence in her voice wavering with each word. “I’ll throw myself over the ledge first.”

  “Eva left us here to die. There isn’t going to be anything left when she gets back but bones!”

  “Don’t talk like that. We’ll find a way out of here.”

  “There is no way out of here.”

  “You are a Venian, Nadira.” Arees said, her voice powerful, commanding. “Venians don’t give up. Especially not to a bunch of bloodthirsty men. We will fight. We will fight because that is what women do. It is who we are. We will be strong, and we will fight. Do you understand?”

  Nadira held Arees gaze for a long time.

  No, this wasn’t Arees talking to her.

  This was the Czarina. The commander of armies.

  She stood up straight and wiped her nose on her arm.

  “I understand.”

  Arees pulled Nadira to her, and hugged her tightly.

  “We will fight,” she whispered. “We will fight.”

  ~()~()~()~()~

  “One fight per guard shift.” Dorian announced. “The man who wins the fight wins the meat, with my customary three bite tax, and a woman, with my customary fifteen second tax.” The crowd chuckled. “You fight until your opponent is either out of the ring, unconscious, or dead. Preferably dead. There’s more meat when you’re dead. Big Boy and Red, as newcomers you get to show us what you can do. Red, your up first.”

  Lex stepped up. If anyone was going to win Arees, it was going to be him, and it would be tax-free.

  A similarly built, dark skinned man with dreadlocks entered the circle. Without warning, he charged at Lex, throwing a shoulder into his already aching gut.

  Lex threw a knee as hard as he could into the man’s groin, and then swung at the man’s temple with all of the strength he could muster. There was a loud crack as his fist connected with bone. The man fell over, dead weight.

  “Red wins!” Dorian announced. “Next up.”

  A bigger man entered the circle, shirtless, veins bulging from his neck, pants cut at the knee. He got down into a squatting position and waited for Lex to make the first move.

  “Get him, Lex!” Kiln yelled.

  Lex stayed on his side of the ring, refusing to be baited. The man smirked, a toothless grin. He pulled a fist back and lunged. Lex side stepped him, spun behind, and landed a punch at the back of the man’s skull. He howled, turned, and lunged at Lex again, catching him in the chest with his forearms, lifting him off his feet, and slamming him onto the ground.

  The crowd’s cheers resonated like thunder.

  The man raised his hands over his head, like a lumberjack preparing to swing a mighty axe. Lex rolled out of the way just in time to hear the man’s bones shatter when his fist hit the cement. Jumping to his feet, Lex swung a knee into the side of the man’s head, and then swung his foot back and kicked it against the man’s nose. Blood splattered everywhere. A whistle escaped the man’s twisted nose as he inhaled. Lex grabbed him by the back of the pants and swung him out of the ring.

  The crowd screamed again and started to chant, “Meat! Meat! Meat!”

  “Red’s on a roll!” Dorian exclaimed. “Last fight.”

  Lex bent over and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His head spun.

  A final man entered the ring. Thin, but tall, with arms that were muscled and long.

  “Meat and cherry’s tonight, boys!” He announced.

  The crowd hollered back.

  “Get him, Rory!” someone screamed.

  Before Lex realized it, Rory had appeared behind him, his forearm around his throat. He was going to crush his windpipe.

  Lex’s eye bulged as he tried in vain to gasp for air. He swung his elbows back, trying to get Rory in the gut, but Rory expertly danced around the blows. Lex fell to his knees. His eyes watered and his head swam. He began to panic as blackness encroached his vision.

  Somewhere between reality and the darkness that threatened, he saw Arees. Dark skin, full begging lips, hair fanned around her face. She was his beauty, his truth. Then there was Rory. Sweaty and long armed. He threw Arees on the floor, and climbed on top of her. Arees’ eyes squeezed shut, and she screamed.

  No!

  Lex took a breath, struggled to one knee.

  Another breath. The grip was loosening.

  “Come on, Lex, you can do it!” Kiln screamed above the crowd.

  He grabbed Rory’s slackening arms and pulled them apart, finally able to take in a lung full of air. His vision returned. He faced his opponent, saw horror fill Rory’s eyes. He was hovering above the ground, legs kicking and flailing. Lex raised his arms up, Rory went even higher.

  My toma.

  Lex’s toma glowed white beneath his shirt. He felt its power surge through him as he stared at the man hanging from his hands.

  “Finish him!” Kiln screamed.

  Flinging his arms to the side, Rory’s body flew through the air and slammed into a cement wall, shattering. His corpse slid to the floor.

  The crowd went silent for what seemed like a lifetime.

  What have I done? Now they know. What will they do with us now?

  “Red,” Dorian stood and calmly walked toward him. He painted a confident smile on his face. “I guess that makes you the winner.”

  Lex saw Dorian’s eyes watching him with suspicion. He took a step back toward the edge of the ring.

  “You mind sharing with us what that little move was back there?”

  Lex didn’t respond.

  “I didn’t think so. Give him his meat... and his cherry.”

  An inmate approached him and handed him a soggy piece of raw bacon. Lex’s stomach churned in disgust.

  “You keep the meat,” he said, handing it to Dorian. “I keep the cherry. Tax free.”

  Dorian looked at the bacon in Lex’s hand, then at Lex. He studied him for a long time. No one in the crowd breathed. Then, he took the meat, put the whole piece in his mouth, and held out a hand for Lex to shake. The crowd cheered.

  Dorian licked his lips. “Next fight.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Lex and Kiln sat on the staircase leading up to the second level. Lex, b
loodied and bruised from his fight, lifted the tatters of his torn white shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. When he pulled the shirt away, it was covered in black grime and blood.

  He turned to Kiln, who busied himself studying the men that loitered around the makeshift wresting ring.

  “I need a shower,” Lex said.

  Kiln turned back to him, and Lex found the same black grime sticking to his friend’s skin. “Forget the shower. You need a doctor.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  Kiln winced. “When you get past the swollen eye, and bruised neck, it’s not so bad.”

  “Well, at least it’s over. Now we can go check on Naddie and Ar.”

  Kiln shook his head and smiled sadly. “What makes you think that it’s over?” he asked.

  Before Lex could reply, Dorian sauntered up to them with a wide grin.

  “So, they sent me some real fighters.”

  “I guess they have,” Lex replied.

  “You know, the men have been talking.” He looked down at the floor, his boot toeing around a few pebbles. “Some of them are saying that you cheated.”

  “Cheated?” Lex asked.

  Dorian nodded, then looked up at him. “They said that you used some sort of magic out there.”

  “It wasn’t magic.”

  “Then what was it?” He jerked his chin at him. “It’s that thing sticking out of your chest, isn’t it?”

  Lex didn’t respond.

  “Listen,” Dorian continued. “Some of the men here have a few special things that they do, and that’s all right. But in the ring, its man to man and skin to skin. Nothing extra. You got it?”

  Lex nodded. “I got it.”

  “Good. I told them that you didn’t know the rules and, surprisingly, they agreed. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again. And good luck tonight. You get a few days rest and you’re back in the circle.”

  “What do you mean a ‘few days rest’?”

  “Tomorrow, Kiln will fight. Then the next man, and the next. After all, everyone has to have a turn, right?”

  “No. No one else is having a turn.” Lex stood tall, and glared at Darien. Though he was still aching after his last bout, but he’d die before he let another man touch Arees.