by Gavin Magson
Ajax allowed himself to fall backwards as he avoided the attack, rolling to his feet and sidestepping a knee. The Believer was dangerously quick and was already moving forward for another attack as Ajax tried to gain his wits.
As a left cross hurtled towards him Ajax blocked the punch, deflecting it upwards as his own fist caught the soldier in the abdomen; it was akin to punching a sandbag. There was an audible grunt as air escaped whatever lungs it had, but before Ajax could land a second punch a blow to the base of his skull caused his legs to give way. He began to roll just as the soldier planted a kick to his ribs; through the pain he could feel at least one rib snap under the force, possibly two.
He was back on his feet before another lunge could connect, planting a heavy boot at the side of the soldier’s right knee. It was enough to cause the Believer to stumble, but the combination of punches Ajax launched hit nothing but air. He dove forwards, managing to skirt around a wooden rack that no longer contained weapons just before it exploded as the Believer tore through it.
“I thought that he was your best man, peerless was a word you used; Ajax is being schooled here.” said Lixion, smirking above the goblet he resumed drinking from.
“Ajax hasn’t even met a Believer before, let alone had to face them in combat. To last this long against a sergeant is admirable; I’ve seen a squad downed in less time. The fact that Ajax is grinning like a simpleton says to me he is very comfortable right now and is merely testing the limits and abilities of his foe.” replied Major.
Lixion continued to quaff from the goblet and, once it was drained, merely extended his arm out until the woman at his side refilled the container. He mused over Major’s words and was about to reply when the Believer was upended onto its back after Ajax had leapt two footed at its chest.
Ajax was quick to regain his footing, sprinting to the Believer as it struggled to lift its own bulk. Ajax slid his right arm under the soldier’s chin whilst it sat up, twisting his own body to plant his hip into the soldier’s back whilst constricting his arm around its neck. There was far too much resistance from the thick fibres, which lead Ajax to haul at the neck and begin to raise the Believer off the ground whilst it scrabbled at his arm. Ajax’s free hand grasped the wrist of his right to increase the pressure, denying the Believer any reprieve.
His grip was iron and every part of him strained as Ajax took the weight of the soldier. Behind him Lixion pushed aside his servant as he scrambled to his feet to better look down at the sight, his face all but pushed up against the protective glass. Major managed to contain both his surprise and excitement, remaining seated and ignoring the resonating nervousness of Raúl as the scientist squirmed at the sight.
Two hands now gripped Ajax’s right arm as the body thrashed and strained, the Believer starved of air. He could feel his muscles begin to tear, but worse the bones in his arm were twisting under the immense pressure. Ajax needed all the strength he had to keep the body aloft and could not release his other arm to try and prise off a hand.
With a surge of strength, boosted as Ajax screamed out, he twisted his body such that the Believer was fully upon Ajax’s back. He straightened out his back and drove upwards, slowly standing from his knelt position with the full weight of the Believer now supported by his body. Still the soldier thrashed, no let-up in its seemingly endless energy or strength.
“The boy has him! I’m sorry I doubted you.” called out Lixion, his eyes locked upon Ajax as the simulant finally began to tire.
Raúl turned to Major, who remained silent despite his sponsors words. Raúl knew the man good enough to know that the fixed concentration on Major’s face meant the man did not feel it was time to celebrate.
Raúl glanced back at the combatants just as the Believer’s body dropped to the floor. He felt immense relief; Ajax must have bested the beast. It was only when Major stood that Raúl realised the body was still moving, and that Ajax clutched at his right forearm.
“The fight is over. Baron, stun the simulant before it recovers.” Major’s words were enough to send his captain towards the room’s only door, a large weapon clutched between both hands.
“What!” Roared Lixion, turning from the window. “You brought me here to see this asset fight, and all I’ve seen so far is some light sparring. Let’s see what your man is capable of.”
Baron stood in the doorway, eyes darting between Major and Lord Lixion. Major’s face was set, unbridled rage threatening to erupt at any moment, yet he had not ordered Baron to continue.
“Baron, wait on the walkway and keep that weapon charged; if at any moment that simulant looks to be about to deliver a killing blow I want you to put it down. You are to ignore any orders to the contrary.”
“Yes, sir.” Baron left the room before anyone had chance to stop him, heading straight to the centre of the walkway.
“It’s a dangerous game you are playing, Lixion; if the simulant is too quick to put down we can’t bring him back from death.”
“That doesn’t seem to have stopped Ajax from carrying on the fight. If anything, I would say he is enjoying himself.” retorted Lixion.
Major turned his eyes back to the combatants and, as Lixion claimed, was surprised to find Ajax and the Believer trading blows already.
Ajax, his right arm now useless to him, was doing his best to dodge or block a flurry of attacks from the Believer. Several times a fist got through his defence and soon blood ran freely from numerous cuts to his face. Ajax could feel his energy fading as the attacks only increased in ferocity, and he couldn’t find an opening to counterattack with only one arm.
“Raúl, how long would you estimate it’d take for Ajax’s augment to repair that arm?” asked Major, his voice kept low.
“Tough to say. If you meant enough that he could use the arm, but at risk of a further break, maybe as long as this fight has been going on, at least. The augments nanomachine count is drastically less than he started off with, and, despite a broken bone taking a higher priority, nano’s will be distributed to his other wounds as well. A full heal could be several days.”
“There isn’t enough time, Ajax won’t last long enough to use that arm. Go to Baron, tell him to stun the Believer next chance he gets. If there isn’t a clear shot make sure a medic gets to Ajax immediately after the pair are stunned.”
Major turned back to the fight just as Ajax rolled out of the Believer’s path, narrowly avoiding taking yet another punch to his head. As he regained his footing the simulant turned to follow, ready for another attack. Ajax couldn’t block in time as a roundhouse kick caught him above the left ear. He pitched towards the hard floor underfoot, as his vision faded to black.
The simulant advanced, ready to end his downed opponent. With a crack Baron fired the gun in his hands, several thick barbs punctured the simulants synthetic skin and discharged a stored electric load. The gathered men watched as the Believer keeled over sideways, body completely rigid.
All was silent in the viewing room, not a word shared between those present. Raúl glanced across at Major, who, like Lixion, was stood directly in front of the protective glass. Raúl awaited the outburst, keeping his gaze anywhere but at Major.
“Your man disappoints, Major; I was promised something impressive, a showcase of his potential.” Lixion broke the silence first, seemingly oblivious to the slight shaking of Major’s body.
“He fought a Believer sergeant, having never even met one of their race before, and came damned close to besting it on the first attempt. You, however, thought it was acceptable to risk his life for the sake of a showcase; don’t ever fuck with the life of one of my men again.”
Raúl was wrong. What had come after the simulant was downed may have classed as silence, but this was the elimination of all sound. He knew that Lixion’s servant has ceased to breath because so had he, in fact Raúl willed his heart to beat quieter. The lord had immense wealth, influence, and above all power behind him, and no matter how intimidating Major might be most of the
facility couldn’t continue to run without Lixion’s support.
“You’re right, Major; I did put Ajax under undue risk, but not without good reason. I needed to know that the man would keep on fighting, even when there was no hope of victory. One day I might ask that he lays down his life for my cause. I will trust your judgement in his management from now on. However, he isn’t ready for the Believers, not yet anyway.”
“Don’t you worry about that. Once he has recovered I have no doubt that Ajax will want to fight the simulant again and will already have learnt more about its strengths and weaknesses than Raúl could discover through his numerous simulations. He won’t disappoint, I can promise that.
“Raúl, see to it that Ajax is patched up. Come see me when he is conscious, I expect a full evaluation of his injuries.”
Major turned on the spot, his eyes focused on Raúl’s before pacing from the room. Once the dark cloud had passed Raúl regained his sense and sprang into action, heading down to the exercise hall and already mentally preparing a list of activities he would have to perform on Ajax to assess the toll the fight had exacted on his body.
Chapter 33
Duke paced around his bedroom, his mind working overdrive as he tried to think of the right words to impart on the crew. His heart was beating quickly, his nerves on edge. Duke was only a couple hours away from the surgery, a procedure so invasive his chance of surviving it was dauntingly small. Smaller still was his hope of coming out unscathed, without the loss of control that spinal replacement risked.
He had spent at least an hour busying himself in his room, packing clothes, sorting out sixty years’ worth of trinkets and memories. Yet no good words came to him, nothing profound to impart on his crew, or even how to break the news to them. He willed something, anything of worth, to appear in his mind.
A gentle knock at the door caused him to halt his loop of the room, his breathing heavy from the sustained pacing. His thoughts interrupted Duke finally became aware of the awful throbbing in his knees, which he knew he was fully to blame for. He hobbled over to the door, muttering curses under his breath before opening it.
“Ah, Ilya, I wasn’t sure whether you’d be awake yet.” said Duke, opening the door further and stepping aside to allow the woman through.
“It’s hard to sleep in when I can hear the creak of your floorboards through the wall.” She sat on a stool Duke had left near a chest of drawers, which she was surprised to find absent at least a pile of clothing, or a half dozen beer bottles. Duke took in the sight of Ilya, savouring it. He didn’t care that her baggy clothes were stained with food, potentially drool, and specks of blood from her healing wounds; he loved this girl and Duke’s heart ached at the thought that he would likely never see her again, whether the surgery was a success or not.
“What’s bothering you? And cut the shit, before you try to pass it off as nothing.”
Duke was thrown by Ilya’s bluntness, something he had not really experienced from the remaining crew since her union. He pulled up a second stool, easing himself down to spare his knee further injury.
“I’m busy… thinking, I can’t take my mind off the surgery.”
“That’s only natural, no one in their right mind would feel comfortable before something like this. You shouldn’t worry though, it’s a minor procedure to repair your knee; it’s hardly heart surgery. I don’t know why you didn’t opt for a bionic limb, far easier to repair later down the line.”
Ilya waited for Duke’s reply, but instead she was greeted with a sheepish expression that told her far more than Duke had let on.
“You bastard, you lied to me, didn’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?” he asked, avoiding eye contact.
“After all we have been through together why keep secrets? I can understand you not including Deborah, but what about the rest of us? You practically raised me and yet you can’t trust me?”
Tears were brimming in Ilya’s eyes by the time she fell silent, the look of pure hurt and sorrow on her face enough to bring a lump to Duke’s throat. He had spent all morning trying to find the words and the courage to tell his crew the truth.
“I would never want to see you hurt, Ilya, especially because of me. I trust you more than anyone, it’s just hard to hurt the one’s you love. The surgery isn’t just to repair my knee, that was more of an afterthought that I requested.” Duke took in a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “I have several growths on my spine that are threatening to render me a paraplegic, and tumours growing on both my spine and brain that- Ilya, please, hear my words.”
Ilya was wailing, no longer could she control her emotions as she listened to Duke. Tears streamed down her face as the man that took her in from the streets, who clothed and fed her, raised her to be something far more than an urchin, told her he was dying.
“My chances are far from good, I won’t continue the lies to try and build false hope. Without the surgery I won’t see the years end, and with it there’s little more than a fifteen percent chance I’d survive the procedure. Up until your rescue I had accepted my fate and intended to enjoy the remaining time I had left. Now I have something more to live for again, because I have you, and I want to fight this illness.”
Ilya could find no words, her heart ached as Duke finished speaking. She stood from the chair and wrapped her arms around Duke’s head, cradling him as she let out yet more tears. It took her several seconds to realise that the man was crying, sobbing into her oversized nightshirt.
“Why keep this from us? We are your friends, I’d like to believe you think of me as family; why bottle it all up?”
“Because I am afraid, Ilya, plain and simple. I’m not a young man, and I have lived a full life, but that doesn’t mean I am at all ready for death. Not having the surgery guaranteed me a few more months, perhaps half a year, to come to terms with it all. I might not see sunrise tomorrow, and that petrifies me.”
Ilya released Duke, sitting once more on the stool behind her. She watched as he produced an antique handkerchief from one of his numerous pockets and mopped up the tears from his face and beard.
“It’s going to be okay, Duke, because you are the strongest man I know. Ajax might go around clubbing heads as if they are flowers, and we have both seen Lev stop bar brawls single handed, but you are a mountain, steady as a rock. If anyone could get through something like this I would put every credit I had on it being you. Now why don’t I get the guys and you can see the support that we have to offer?”
“That’d be nice. Make sure they don’t bring any beer, I’d happily drink it all to steady my nerves right now, but the physician would cancel my surgery if I turned up drunk. If she answers her door bring Deborah too, she is one of the crew after all.” Duke let out a heavy sigh, releasing the pent-up stress within him.
Ilya left the room, which meant Duke was alone once more with his thoughts. He had wanted to tell Ilya everything, to dump on her that he would be leaving Konar shortly, but his nerves had gotten the best of him. He just hoped that he could bring himself to be fully honest once all the crew were assembled.
After only a few minutes the door opened behind him once more, with several pairs of feet traipsing their owners inside. He turned around in the stool, looking up as Greg and Lev followed Ilya into the room.
“Ilya tells us you’re wanting to talk before today; what’s up?” asked Greg, leaning back against the nearest wall.
Duke paused, so put off by Greg’s mannerisms that he couldn’t quite process a reply. Greg had never been one to be so direct, and the slight grimace on the man’s face suggested that Ilya had not merely invited the couple to Duke’s room.
“What has Ilya told you so far?” Duke questioned.
Greg nervously looked at his partner, which resulted in Lev shaking his head and letting out a brief sigh of frustration.
“Not much, just that we should be prepared for bad news. Greg might have given Ilya some good advice on how to cope with a probing interview, b
ut he’s the last person you’d want following said advice.” Lev chuckled as Greg made a rude gesture towards him.
“Sit down, lads, and I’ll bring you both up to speed with what I have told Ilya. Bear with me though; I don’t relish recounting this.”
Greg and Lev, for the most part, managed to listen in silence as Duke told them both about the true extent of the surgery, it’s dangers, and the tumours that would soon cut his life prematurely short, should they not be removed.
“How much is this all costing you?” asked Greg, once his boss had finally lapsed into silence.
“Really, that’s your question? Not something more considerate, like how is he coping with all this?” Lev’s voice was raised as his emotions got the best of him, raw anger seeping out of him.
“Lev, it’s a good question, and I hope that you can reign in your frustration before you take it out on Greg; his heart is in the right place.” Lev nodded at his captain’s words, reaching out the wrap an arm around Greg’s shoulder and pull him in close. “The full cost is a little over three million credits.” Duke paused for Ilya’s gasp, chuckling to himself. “Yup, most of my profits from our recent expedition. It’s not cheap to grow a spine, and the machinery required for the surgery is even pricier still.”
“Is all of that money purely a wage for the people involved or were additional supplies part of the cost?” asked Greg.
“Not much gets past you, does it?” said Duke, allowing himself a brief smile. “Several pieces of equipment were purchased out of that money, expensive equipment from what I was told.”
“Shit, that much money being spent won’t go unnoticed, Duke; somewhere there is going to be a trail.”
“That’s why part of the fee is to cover my physicians new change in residence, as he is going to retire off world. Far off world, I think were his exact words, and something about a large farm with his assistant, so long as his wife didn’t find out first.”