by Jamie Hawke
When Ranger arrived, he’d have a hard time tracking us down, I imagined.
I leaned over to Twitch, sitting beside me on the ship, and lowered my voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “How did you know you could trust him? Before, I mean.”
She glanced back at him talking excitedly with his old friend, Renowt. “The way the warlord spoke of him, asking me to give the man a chance if I saw a window. It was a gamble, but it paid off, and I think we’ll see the rewards.”
“And if he’d killed us? Stolen our powers and left us for dead?”
“Good thing he didn’t.” She turned and lay her head back, closing her eyes.
That was all she had to say? Good thing he didn’t? I wanted to shout at her, to tell her that gambling with our lives like that was not okay, that she needed to be less reckless in the future. Then again, it had worked out. She’d been right. Maybe there was something to her gut judgment that I needed to learn to rely on more. Regardless, I agreed with the need for sleep and closed my eyes as well. Little catnaps would have to do for this journey.
I woke when I had to take a piss, finding everyone asleep but Gale. She smiled and nodded, and I walked softly past the sleeping man who had until recently been our enemy, thinking how peaceful he looked there with his old friend, reunited. So odd that it would be under these circumstances.
When I returned, Gale set the ship on autopilot, as per Wendlor’s instructions regarding the coordinates, and sat on the armrest of my chair just as I was about to close my eyes again.
“No matter what they say, we’ll find your dad,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said.
She grinned. “Breaker, until very recently I was in the most secure prison imaginable, or so everyone said. But guess what? The day they threw me in there I made a promise to myself—as ridiculous as it sounded, as impossible as everyone said it was, I promised myself that I would be off of that ship within the year. Lo and behold…” She held her arms out to emphasize the point that here she was, not on the prison ship. From where she was sitting, it also put her chest directly in my face, and I had to laugh.
“Yes, but you’re free in part because of me,” I pointed out.
“Just like we’ll find him in part because of me,” she countered and pinched my cheek. “You’ll see.”
With that, she stood, stretched, and said, “Rest, you’re going to need it I imagine.”
“And you?”
She shrugged. “A perk of my powers. I can create a bit of a storm externally, but I’ve also always been able to create one internally. It’s like an intense energy drink that keeps me going. Will I crash? Hell fucking yes. But by then, we’ll have hopefully won.”
“Yes, hopefully,” I said, sleepily. “Just… wake me when you need… shut-eye.”
I was out before she had a chance to respond, though knowing her, she’d have told me again that she wouldn’t need the rest. As super as I was, I sure as hell needed my beauty and kickass sleep if I was going to succeed in the arena.
11
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. The barbaric nature of ancient Rome and other civilizations that had worshiped the arena—to say nothing of my world and their fascination with the horror show that was Planet Kill—had always struck me as disgusting.
Now I was about to walk into an arena and do my best to tear my opponent a new asshole. Meanwhile, he or she would be doing the same to me. If I wasn’t careful, I’d leave that place maimed or without a head. Neither sounded great.
“No powers allowed?” I asked for the tenth time, staring at the display’s image of the dome on the outskirts of a massive canyon. We were flying low, directed to the opposite side of the canyon by three security vessels.
“If it comforts you to hear me say it again,” Wendlor said, “that’s correct. They don’t come here to see who’s the most powerful, they come here to see raw barbarism. Blood and sweat are what they pay for.”
“And… my suit?” I asked, turning to Twitch.
She frowned. We hadn’t discussed clothing. Since my suit provided me with much of my power, I was very anxious as to whether I’d be allowed to wear it.
“I’ve not actually been to see it for myself,” Wendlor admitted. “Maybe I should come with?”
“Not happening,” Gale interrupted while starting to land.
“Agreed,” Twitch added. “As much as you’re helping now, we have to be cautious here.”
Wendlor nodded, eyes distant. He seemed to be trying to come to grips with everything he’d done, or maybe attempting to push it all from his mind.
“Breaker,” Twitch turned her seat to mine, unstrapped, and leaned over with her hands on my knees, “I don’t think it’s just the suit.”
“But—”
“No, listen. When I was looking at your code, you know how I said you didn’t seem to have powers? But we found out you kind of absorbed those through… certain ways.” She paused to look away, a smile toying at her lips.
“Focus,” I said, but was glad to have the distraction as those same images she was likely seeing now flashed through my mind.
“Right. And the suit, it came from Lamb as part of her essence or something, you were saying?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’ve been fairly intimate with the suit,” she said with a chuckle. “I mean, sweat, maybe more. I don’t know. My point is, you haven’t tried fighting without it. Maybe the upgrades can only happen with it on, but after that…?”
“After that,” I repeated, considering it.
“We should test it, to be sure.” She reached over and undid my straps, then stood. “Give us ten minutes for sparring.”
“Roger that,” Gale replied. “But we land in less than a minute, so hold onto something.”
“No problem.”
She led the way, ignoring the curious look from Wendlor, and took me to the loading bay. When we were there she wrapped her arms around me and grabbed one of the railings, winking at me as we landed. Our bodies were pressed together as the ship jostled, but a moment later it was done, and we weren’t moving anymore.
“Strip,” Twitch said, eyes inches from mine.
“Excuse me?” I gulped, wanting to lean in and kiss her.
“To test yourself,” she said, grinning as if she’d read my thoughts, but stepping back. “Come on, no time to waste. Strip, now.”
I frowned but did as she said. The biotech armor came off easily enough when I wanted it to, since it could morph into many forms. Less than ten seconds later, I was standing in front of her in just my boxer briefs, feeling very awkward.
“Okay, so what, I throw a punch at something?”
She laughed. “All the way.”
“All the…?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” She pointed at my boxer briefs, then motioned down.
I gulped, tried to imagine that she was just a doctor. There wasn’t anything wrong with stripping nonchalantly in front of a doctor, right? With that in mind, I pulled them down and stood there with it all hanging out, and found myself imagining her in a doctor’s coat, hair pulled back, about to examine me. Wrong thought—total turn on.
“Focus on the fighting,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of my rapidly growing boner.
“You too,” I replied.
“Ah, yes.” She looked up, smiled, and took a breath. “Time for that later. Come on, let’s um, see what you’ve got.” She stepped forward, hands up and ready to fight me.
“I’m not going to fight you,” I said, feeling very awkward and trying to cover my erection.
“Then you’ll get hit,” she replied, and came in for a punch.
I dodged, slapping her fist out of the way. “Come on.”
“Still fast, at least,” she said. “But can you strike?”
“Maybe if I weren’t naked, this would be easier.”
She lau
ghed. “Sure, but much less fun for me to watch.”
I blushed at that, and nearly missed the next punch she threw, followed by a kick that, as I dodged, grazed the tip of my boner and left it shaking back and forth like a door catcher.
“Sorry,” she cringed. “Did that hurt?”
It took me a moment to process that she’d just kicked my dick in the head, but I shook my head. “Weird, but no, didn’t hurt. More like a dull sting.”
She nodded, moving around me. “Get one good hit, and I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Tempting.” I squared up, circling her, trying not to think of how awkward this was but doing a terrible job at it, and then dropped my hands. “Dammit, Twitch, I just can’t.”
She rolled her eyes, put her hands on her hips, and said, “Then fucking hit that cargo crate over there. If you have the strength, you’ll do some damage.”
“If not?”
“You’ll have a broken wrist or something, but at least we’ll know putting you into the arena is the wrong move.”
“Wonderful,” I replied, turning to the crate, and clenching my fist. “You better not be staring at my ass.”
“I am, and you have bigger problems to worry about. Now punch.”
Preparing myself for the pain, I pulled back and threw my body into it. My fist slammed into the plastic and the crate went flying, thudding into the far wall and falling to the ground. We walked over and stood there, staring at the large dent and cracked plastic, and she smiled at me, eyes not taking me in like a piece of meat this time.
“Looks like we have nothing to worry about,” she said.
“Except maybe blue balls,” I mumbled, but she was already walking away, back to tell Gale the good news. As I dressed, I watched her ass, the way her hips rocked with each step, and considered taking care of myself real quick. But she was right, we needed to get moving. Plus there was the fact that I didn’t want to make a mess here or have them walk in on me doing it, and I’d heard people say it was best to save that energy before a fight.
With a sigh, I put my clothes back on, did my best to hide the boner, and turned as Gale and Twitch found me, ready to go.
“Ah, he dressed already,” Gale said with a mock pout. “I missed out on all the fun.”
“Plenty of time for that later,” Twitch said and opened the door. “Right now, let’s watch our man kick some ass.”
“Ooh, the appetizer before the main course,” Gale said with a chuckle. “I can deal with that.”
“Um, and if the main course doesn’t happen because I’m dead?” I asked.
“Honey, you’ll be fine,” Gale said, taking me by the arm as we descended the ramp.
Wherever she was getting her optimism, I would’ve loved to have known. In spite of seeing that I still had my super strength, walking into an arena and knowing that I could be fighting for my life—simply to grind, to level up—was very nerve-wracking.
Wendlor and his buddy had their chamber on the ship and would be waiting there until we returned. While they weren’t quite our prisoners, we still had it locked before we departed, just in case. So it was just Gale, Twitch, and me walking along in the small crowd that was gathering as other ships arrived.
Some big men and women were already approaching our ship by the time we disembarked and turned to face the dome, and I was already imagining my face splattered across the sands of the arena. Any one of them could’ve walked up to me back on Earth and said, “Boo,” and I would’ve run the other way.
Of course, I wasn’t on Earth anymore and was very much a changed man. Throw the need to find Charm into the mix, and I had every reason to stand my ground, doing my best to appear strong. The largest of the group scoffed at seeing us and then stood aside.
“Which one of you will compete?” he asked, eyes roaming over the three of us. His gaze settled on Gale, and he grinned with a mouth full of black, crooked teeth. “Please tell me it’s you.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble,” I said. “That’d be me.”
“Too scrawny,” the man was, waving me off. “But her, look at those thighs, that ass—”
“Keep talking, and I’ll throw you down, but not in the arena,” Gale said. “As much as I like a good compliment on my derriere, you’re not my type.”
“That’s right,” I added. “Lay off.”
“Not that I need you to come to my defense, now,” she said, casting a sideways glance my way.
“So scrawny boy actually thinks he’s tough,” the large man said, then laughed, his buddies joining in. The three of them wore what seemed to be gray uniforms, blaster pistols clearly visible on their belts. I had to remind myself why we were here.
“I do,” I said. “But I’d rather prove it in the arena. Worst that could happen is I die, and you feed me to the local wildlife.”
The man nodded, glanced over to one of the women, who nodded and turned back, leading the way. The man grinned and motioned for us to follow her. Each of the others stayed in place as we went, like they were our guards waiting until we’d passed.
“Does this mean we’re in?” I whispered to Twitch at my side.
“Means you get a test fight,” the woman ahead of us said, apparently able to hear everything around her.
I beamed, excited for the opportunity in spite of my misgivings. She led us down through a hatch beside the main dome, then along a stairway cut into the stone that reminded me of the first sunken city we’d visited on this planet. Only, while that city had been somewhat scattered with buildings lining the walls, this was entirely focused around the coliseum in the center. The buildings—markets with their colorful umbrellas and cloth hangings—spread out from it like spokes, and makeshift housing surrounded that. Apparently, they didn’t have one of those stone-crafting supers.
“I’ll be fighting in there?” I asked.
“If you pass the test,” the lady answered.
“Which you won’t,” one of the large men at her side said. Twitch scoffed, and the man paused on the stairs to glare back at her. “Something funny?”
“He’ll win,” Twitch answered. “He could take you too, I’d bet.”
“Maybe he’ll get the chance to try,” the man said, turning his glare on me.
I shot Twitch a look that I hoped told her not to egg him on, but she just smiled helpfully. It didn’t go further, and soon we were walking among the stalls, one with the throng.
We stopped at one of the merchant carts, where an old man with a comb-over and a small rodent in his arms bowed to the lady and said, “Miss Generva, shall I round up a fighter?”
“Be quick about it,” she answered.
“Generva?” Twitch asked, and the lady gave her a curt nod.
I was too focused on the area we’d just entered to take much notice of anything else. A ring of rope on top of the blood-stained, hard-packed sand. Several stools and rocks were gathered around the pit, but it was hardly the arena of glory I had been expecting.
“Here?” I asked, dreading the answer. Generva pointed at an old lady who approached and handed me a rope with some cloth on it, then pointed to the ring. “What’m I supposed to do with this?” I asked, holding it up.
“Put it on and fight,” the old lady replied, then walked off.
Holding it up to eye level, I saw that it could be some sort of strange underwear. It didn’t look super clean, but I was here to fight. Best not to think about the details. Another man had just stepped into the ring with a similar set of underwear on—nothing else—so I went to the door he’d come out of, turning to look for the lady to see if that was right. She nodded, gesturing me in. A small crowd had started to congregate near the entrance, handing money to the man at the front. I entered the small room that reminded me of an outhouse, stripped down, and held onto my armor and boxer-briefs to give to Twitch and Gale to keep safe for me. The fighting underwear was loose but snug in the right places, and if not for the strange rope cutting into my waist, would’ve been quite comfort
able.
I walked back out to a mixture of laughter and enticing smiles from Twitch and Gale.
“Sexy,” Gale said, giving me a light tap on my half-exposed ass.
“I prefer without it,” Twitch said, winking at me as she took the armor.
“Can we all agree, no ass-slapping and no winking?” I said. “At least, not until the fight is over?”
“You’re hot, I can’t help it,” Gale said in her defense.
“Like she said.” Twitch winked.
I rolled my eyes, then turned to the ring as the man with the comb over announced the fight, introducing us as the outsiders, visitors from far away, and then rang a bell with a frayed rope before stepping out of the way. Twitch and Gale stepped back, leaving just my opponent and me.
Now that I was squared off against him, I was able to take a moment, circling him, seeing what he might be capable of. He had a scar next to his bent nose, with one eye open slightly more than the other. Not a large guy, but his muscle definition hinted at him being incredibly fast. As proved on the ship though, I didn’t have much to worry about. My job here was simply to win while not showing off too much strength. Make it look like a struggle, even if it wasn’t.
My opponent let out a roar and came at me, and only then did I see something shining in his hand, and realized there was a knife on the ground at my feet. What the fuck? Nobody had told me this would be a knife fight!
As if on cue, Generva shouted out, “Pick up the knife, fool!”
It was too late for that though, as this guy was already coming for me. I watched his trajectory, measured out his steps, and saw the direction of his strike by keeping my eyes on his shoulder. When it came, I stepped to my right, caught his knife-arm on my forearm from the inside, sliding my body out and away. My fist rose up, fast, and caught him in the throat.
Like that, it was over.