Dependent Days

by Chris Sapp

  “No,” Kariah said.

  “You’re right. My knowledge of genetic manipulation is very limited,” Vi said. “But my explanation involves manipulation of the heart and of that I know plenty.”

  “What are you babbling about Vi?” Magnus said.

  “Kariah and Blair would have you believe that this was an accident, an experiment gone wrong. But I believe it was no accident. I’m convinced that it was an assassination attempt,” Vi said.

  Kariah looked over at Vi in sheer terror.

  “Lord Slade, I assure you—

  “Magnus” Vi said, cutting Blair off, “I have observed these two having sexual relations.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous?” shouted Kariah.

  “Is it?” continued Vi, “I mean it’s no secret that you and Magnus are on the verge of divorce. One could argue that your bond of love is a severed as those vines.”

  “Magnus look at me. She’s lying. I swear…”said Kariah. She was trembling and crying. Magnus looked from her to Vi and then back to her. What would Magnus decide? Who would he believe? His estranged wife or his pet?

  “Guards, escort Lady Slade, her assistant, and the other criminal to Centropolis’ jail. I want all three in detox by nightfall.”

  “No! Magnus! No,” pleaded Kariah.

  Magnus pried her hands off of him and the guards shackled them together. Blair didn’t offer any resistance as the guards shackled him. He only lowered his head and defeat or shame, perhaps a little of both.

  “Please Magnus don’t do this,” Kariah begged.

  “Get her out of my sight,” he ordered.

  “I’m with child!” Kariah blurted.

  “The lies that spew from the whore’s mouth are endless,” scoffed Vi.

  “No, it’s true. Scan me!” Kariah challenged, still struggling against the strength of the guards.

  “Wait,” Magnus ordered. The guards obeyed. “What are you offering?” Magnus asked Kariah.

  “Don’t detox us. Allow Blair to run the Crucible. Allow me to give birth and I’ll give you the child,” she said. Tears streamed down her face.

  “And what guarantee do I have that this child won’t be defective like the last one?” Magnus asked.

  “Because the seed isn’t yours,” Kariah answered. Her eyes never wavered from Magnus when she said this.

  IZABEL

  THE TERRA GIGAS coliseum was for lack of a better word, gigantic. It could hold 260,000 spectators. Most of the seats were designed by Giants for Giants. But sections “A” and “E” were reserved for all the non-giant species. Durga had hooked Roe and Izabel up with VIP passes, which meant that they got to sit in one of the six pod suites. It was a convertible hover pod that allowed spectators with VIP passes to actually fly into the arena and get as close to the fight as they wanted. But interfering with the fight in any way was strictly forbidden. Roe and Izabel had to sign forms agreeing to these terms. They also had to sign waivers, absolving the Coliseum of any legal actions, in case one of them were to suffer any injuries while inside the pod.

  The pod could seat up to six, but Roe and Izabel had this one all to themselves. Roe grabbed a hold of the joystick and flew the pod away from the docking station and out into the arena.

  “Careful,” Roe warned when he noticed her leaning halfway over the pod’s railing.

  The idea of watching a fight hadn’t excited Izabel but now that she was here, it was a different story. The anticipation of the crowd was palpable. It hung in the air like a San Andreas fog. Roe stopped the pod twenty feet from an enormous tank that was suspended from the dome of the Coliseum by the largest chains Izabel had ever seen. The tank was clear, but it was evident that the glass was indestructible. Thick corrugated tubes were attached to the top and bottom of the tank. Izabel guessed that water was going to be pumped through the tubes because according to the flyer Attila Graves was supposed to fight the “Four Mermen of the Apocalypse.”

  “Smile,” Roe said as he lit a Fenix Tail.

  “What?”

  He pointed and she followed his talon up to a jumbo vidscreen that was also suspended from the ceiling. On the vidscreen was an image of Roe and herself. They were being recorded by one of the Coliseum cameras. Neato! I’m on TV, she thought. Then she laughed and waved. She couldn’t help it. Roe simply rolled his eyes and smoked his cigarette. But she was fairly certain that she saw a smirk at the corner of his mouth that he would never admit was there. Her own smile disappeared when she noticed a familiar figuring sitting in a nearby pod. It was the robot mummy she encountered in the alley back on San Andreas. The machine’s red lenses seemed to have the same ominous glare.

  “What?” Roe asked. Apparently her change in mood hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, forcing herself to forget about the creepy robot. But even when she looked away she could still feel the mechanical eyes boring into her. Maybe she should just ask Roe about it. After all he seemed to know everything. Besides, there was probably a reasonable explanation for the machine’s apparent creepiness and if there wasn’t and it was following her then Roe definitely needed to know about it.

  “Okay, don’t turn around, but I think that creepy mummy looking robot dude is following me,” she said.

  “Really, where else have you see this guy?” he asked.

  “Uh…in alley on San Andreas. Right before I met you.”

  “So, after the news-vid of your old man was released?” She was relieved at the seriousness and concern she heard in his voice.

  “For sure,” she said.

  “Alright, is he over my right shoulder or my left?”

  “Right. About six pods away,” she said.

  Roe nodded and then stood up. He casually looked around as he removed his coat. He folded the coat lengthways over his forearm and then sat back down. He was smiling.

  “He’s not following you,” he said.

  “What? You took one look at the guy. How do you know?”

  “Because the Bionic Brood isn’t in the business of following people and even if they were, you’d never know for sure because every member of their race looks virtually identical. Wrapped head-to-toe in cloth, robotic limbs, and red glowing optical lenses,” he said.

  “Bionic Brood? Never heard of them.”

  “Well, they’re an ancient race and an endangered one. There’s only about a hundred thousand left.”

  “What morphagen do they use?” Izabel asked. Her fear had transitioned into curiosity.

  “None,” Roe said.

  “Bullshit. Slaves are the only beings that are drug free.”

  “According to the legends, the Bionic Brood are as old as morphagens themselves and while the rest of the galaxy was becoming dependent on drugs they became dependent on bionic technology. They worshiped it even and to prove their devotion they began amputating parts of themselves so that they could replace it with advanced cybernetic ones.”

  “Jesus,” Izabel said, looking over Roe’s shoulder at the Bionic Brood with equal parts interest and disgust.

  “Why doesn’t the Czar demand they choose a morphagen?” she asked.

  “Because he doesn’t care. They don’t hold any positions of power. They don’t vote. Flies affect the galaxy more than the Bionic Brood,” Roe said.

  With her worries about being followed by a creepy mummy robot dude put to rest, her thoughts turned to food. The control console was located in the center of the pod and when she noticed a picture of a fork and knife on one of the buttons, her stomach practically dared her to push it. She did and a three-dimensional menu was projected out of the top of the console. The variety of food offered was more impressive than the food court at Canyon City. Several moments later, a G head dressed in a black and burgundy Coliseum uniform came bounding through the air. He stopped his forward momentum by doing a one-armed handstand on the railing of their pod.

  “Good afternoon and welcome to the Terra Gigas Coliseum,” the G head said, while still r
emaining upside down. “What can I get for you?”

  “I’ll have the bacon egg cheese burger and a root beer,” said Izabel.

  “All of our food proportions are designed for Giant sized appetites, but we do offer smaller proportions. Would you like your order down-sized?”

  “Yes, please,” said Izabel.

  The waiter swapped hands when he turned to take Roe’s order, but he still maintained his handstand position.

  “And what can I get for you sir?”

  “I’ll have the grilled salmon, seasonal vegetables, and a hydro. Down size my proportions as well,” said Roe.

  “Absolutely,” said their waiter and then he summersaulted over the pod and let his momentum carry him away.

  LESS THAN TEN minutes later, Izabel was biting into her delicious burger. The bacon was crisp and tangy. The fried egg was just the right amount of runny.

  “Oh my god this is so yummy,” she said. “How’s your salmon?”

  “Good,” Roe answered.

  “What are those purple things?” She asked, pointing a half eaten fry at a tray of purple stalks drowning in a lake of butter.

  “Asparagus,” Roe answered.

  “I thought asparagus was green.”

  “Green asparagus is green. This is purple asparagus. Want a bite?” he stabbed one of the stalks with his fork.

  “No thanks,” she declined.

  “Heaven forbid, you eat something healthy.”

  “Elves have the highest metabolism of any species. Plus, I’m young so I can afford to eat like this. You can too for that matter. It’s not like you’re gonna die from high cholesterol.”

  “Fair enough,” he smiled.

  “And how is everything?”asked their G head waiter, once again crouching on the railing of their pod.

  “Really good,” answered Izabel. “In fact we we’re just talking about sharing a dessert. The biggest most unhealthy dessert you have.”

  Roe laughed.

  “You might want to hold off on ordering any dessert for now. I’ve been instructed to tell you that Attila Graves would like to see you in his dressing room.”

  “Oh, I assumed the meet and greet would happen after the fight,” said Roe.

  “I’m just the messenger,” smiled the G head.

  “Alright, which way to the dressing rooms?” Roe asked, maneuvering behind the pod’s controls.

  “Through that tunnel, sir.” Izabel followed the waiter’s long blue finger to a tunnel that was located up in the rafters.

  “Would you like me to gather the plates?”

  “Yes, please,” Roe answered.

  Izabel quickly devoured the last of her burger and then she washed it down with a mug of root beer. The whole mug. The waiter took their plates and bounded off. Roe gripped the joystick and guided them up into the air and behind the cylinder. There was a row of pods docked outside the tunnel. Roe parked the pod in one of the empty spaces and they got out. Metal catwalks made navigating the rafters possible. Izabel followed Roe as he turned to the right towards the tunnel. Turning left would’ve taken them towards the coliseum’s air conditioning system. The roar of the fans was deafening and the air rushing out of the vents was strong enough to make Izabel hold onto the railing.

  “Passes please,” said the armed Giant blocking the entrance to the tunnel. Roe and Izabel flashed their VIP badges and the guard waved them through. The noise of the air conditioning system was reduced with each step they took. The tunnel ended in a fork and according to the plaques on the wall, turning right would take them to the “Four Mermen of the Apocalypse” and turning left led to Attila . They turned down the appropriate tunnel and gasped. Izabel pinched her nose shut because the smell was almost as horrid as the scene before her.

  The tunnel was filled with the bodies of dead mermen. Whoever had done this hadn’t been prejudice against just one kind of Merfolk because all four of their races were present. The manner in which they had died was just as varied. Some had been impaled by Tridents, said weapons still protruded out of their bloated bodies. Some had been eviscerated. Their spilled intestines were so entangled with one another that it was impossible to tell which set belonged to which merman. Others had died from a simple broken neck or a snapped spinal column. These were just the bodies that were whole. There was a good portion that weren’t. The number of severed limbs and broken fins littering the floor was almost as abundant as the number of lost scales.

  “What…why?” Izabel started to ask and then she lost her lunch. The egg was much runnier coming back up and the tangy bacon burned her throat.

  “Who did this?” Izabel said, now that her stomach was once again empty.

  “Attila,” Roe said, handing her a napkin.

  “Why?” She wiped her face.

  “Because he’s been training to take on the Four Mermen of the Apocalypse. Plus, this is one hell of an intimidation tactic considering his opponents are right down the hall.”

  “But how did Attila convince all of these merman to die for him?” Izabel asked.

  “He didn’t have to convince them of anything. All he had to do was poach them.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked around at all of the dead mermen. The idea that each one of them had been captured by a poacher and then forced to fight for their life against a supreme brawler was enough to make her vomit again. But she didn’t. It was choked down by her rage.

  “I can’t do this,” she said, “I need to get off this planet.” Izabel turned away, intending to go back to the pod. But she stopped when two slaves emerged from the black velvet curtains that lead to Attila’s dressing room. One of the slaves was female and one was male. They were both hideously deformed and they were carrying a dead merman. Another body to add to the growing pile. This one was a Golden Guardian and he’d been decapitated. Izabel saw that there were dozens of colorful scales stuck to the slaves’ sweat and blood stained bodies. The female slave had six eyes (two brown, two blue, one green, and one diseased dead one) and two nostril slits where her nose should have been. She gasped and dropped her end of the body when she saw Roe and Izabel standing there.

  “Izabel?”exclaimed the slave. All five of her functional eyes were focused on Izabel.

  “What’d you say?” Izabel asked, when she remembered that she was fully capable of speech. Her question seemed to shock the slave out of her trance because she lowered her head in shame and quickly disappeared through the velvet curtains.

  “Sorry” apologized the male slave and then he darted through the curtains.

  “No! Wait,” said Izabel, starting to chase after them. Roe seized her arm and she had to grab a hold of a Trident to keep from falling in the gore.

  “Let go of me!”she shouted.

  “Izabel stop!” he ordered.

  “Didn’t you hear her? She recognized me. She’s one of my dad’s slaves.”

  “Yes, I heard her. But remember where you are. We can’t talk to her without permission. We have to talk to Attila first.”

  Izabel sighed and stopped fighting as his words sank in.

  “Fine. Let’s go talk to this twisted fuck.”

  “Not until you promise to control yourself.”

  “Fine,” she sneered.

  “Say it.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good girl and I promise that I’ll do everything I can to persuade Attila to let us talk to her. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Roe slipped through the curtains and Izabel followed. They were standing in a long narrow hallway that ended in another set of black velvet curtains. Izabel could hear death metal music blaring from somewhere deeper in the room. The only sign of the slaves was a trail of blood and lost merman scales on the floor. They continued on and the room behind the next set of curtains was clearly the party room. An 80 inch vidscreen occupied the wall to Izabel’s left. It was airing live coverage of the Coliseum fight. But no one was paying any attention because they were getting high, getting laid, or
simply passed out. Empty beer cans, discarded clothing, and light-weight partiers were scattered from end of the room to the other. One of the Giant prostitutes was straddling a male client on the couch. But they weren’t having sex…at least not at the moment. The male had his head tilted back and the prostitute was holding an eye-dropper. He smiled in ecstasy when the woman squeezed two drops of the Giant morphagen into his open eye. Roe and Izabel followed the trail of blood and merman scales through another set of curtains. They ended up in the intersection of a hallway. Going left would take them through another set of black curtains and towards the source of the death metal. The trail of blood and scales led to the right and through more curtains. They followed the trail.

  Izabel pulled the curtain aside and came face to face with a merman, a dead one. He was a syren and he was floating belly up inside a tank of water. The tank was a scaled down replica of the one in the arena. Roe ducked under one of the corrugated tubes that was attached to the tank and disappeared into the dark room. Steeling herself, Izabel followed.

  A metal staircase was attached to the front of the tank and standing at the top was one of the scariest beings Izabel had ever seen. This was Attila Graves. There was no mistaking it. His hair was dreadlocked and stark white which contrasted against his dark complexion. His body was well-muscled and covered in hideous scars from a lifetime of brawling. He was wearing a pair of black swimming trunks and dripping wet. Apparently, he’d just emerged from the tank, having bested the syren, and what could only be Attila’s entourage was applauding him from the bottom of the staircase. Attila held his arms out to his sides as a team of faeries first toweled him off and then slipped a bath robe over him.

  Roe stepped forward into the light where Attila could see him. Izabel followed, despite every inch of her body telling her not to.

  “Roe Driskell,” Attila boomed. His voice was as frightening as he was, “Hero of the Morphagen War, renowned Bounty Hunter, Fenixborn Badass.” Attila descended a step each time he announced one of Roe’s attributes. “You’re smaller than I remember,” said the Giant once he was standing at the bottom of the stairs.