She could use the wrist-blade in her artificial arm to win easily, but the arena manager had been leery about letting her participate with it in the first place. She had to lie about its capabilities and, in the end, knew she’d gain far more respect by winning a fair fight. Even if Culver wasn’t exactly playing fair.
She waited while Culver’s brash expression twitched in an effort to acknowledge the boisterous crowd. He flexed one arm, his implant glowing a bit brighter as his muscles bulged. Sage shot forward like a rocket, her shoulder burrowing into Culver’s ribs.
They bowled over, slamming into the hard ground as Sage delivered a blow into the lump on the man’s neck with an artificial fist. She rolled off quickly to avoid a wild swipe and dropped to a grappling stance a few feet away. Culver roared as he forced himself back on his feet. Then he charged her with a relentless flurry of wild swipes.
Sage reeled, using her attacker’s own force to deflect the attacks, but she wouldn’t be able to withstand the barrage forever. Ducking under a punch, she rolled to the side, trying to ignore the sharp rock scraping across her back. A powerful kick struck her in the gut, sending her sprawling into the craggy side of the arena. It was rare she made a move too late, but Sage also knew then that she’d jumped into a fight far too quickly after the explosion on Mars.
Groping frantically, wheezing, her artificial hand found a protrusion of rock in the wall. She could feel Culver bearing down on her. Shifting from defense, she broke the piece of rock off and swung with all her might. There was an audible crack as the man’s knee snapped inward. She then lashed upward in a wide arc, the rock smashing Culver across the temple. The power of her artificial arm split the man’s skull open like a sack of rotten fruit. He crumpled into a heap of tangled limbs.
At first the crowd released a collective gasp. Then thunderous cheers rained down from all corners of the arena. Sage paid them no heed. She stood right where she was, her eyes remaining locked on the still-twitching corpse at her feet.
The rock slipped from her metallic fingers. She never enjoyed taking life senselessly, but when it came to her missions, she did whatever she had to. He was a Ceresian, she told herself. He needed to die. He deserved to die.
Suddenly, the announcer appeared beside her and raised her arm in victory. “My, my, folks,” he addressed the hundreds of patrons packed against the cage. “The victor, by cause of death, is…” He whispered in Sage’s ear, “what’s your name again, girl?”
“S… Agatha Lavos,” she responded wearily.
“Agatha Lavos! The Tigress of Ceres Prime!”
The crowd went wild as he then escorted Sage through a tunnel carved into the rock wall of the ring. She had no idea what a tigress was, probably some mythical creature from ancient Earth, but apparently she’d done well enough to earn a nickname. A fine start.
Once the door to the locker room sealed behind them, the announcer’s smile turned to a scowl. “I can’t believe this. Culver was undefeated. We fronted his travel for a headliner. Gonna cost me a pretty penny killin’ him like that.”
Sage didn’t respond. She looked around at the showers lining the room and some benches beside them, where more fighters were waiting. None of them were women, and they took no care to hide their enamored stares as she walked by glistening with sweat. She dipped her hands in a sink, washing the blood out from beneath her fingernails on one and out of the creases between the plating on the other.
The announcer sighed. “I’ll pay you two hundred pico, but that’s all I can do. The managers in Pallus are going to kill me for this.” The announcer activated his wrist holopad and began typing in some commands.
“I thought you said four?” Sage said, not looking up from the sink. She didn’t really care about the money, she merely had a part to play, and as far as she knew, Ceresians were greedy as sin.
“Nope. No way. That arm of yours ain’t like any I’ve ever seen. Two fifty and that’s all.”
“What If I stand in for your headliner?”
“Absolutely not. And don’t ever expect to fight in here again unless you cut that thing off.”
“That’s fine. Someone else will pay better.” She brought out her CP card for the announcer to scan. The credits transferred over, and he left her, grumbling to himself the entire way to usher two more unlucky combatants into the arena.
“Didn’t expect you to come walking back in, gorgeous,” a handsome man sitting nearby teased her. “You stole my fight.” He placed his hand on her waist. A tattoo across his forearm seemed to list victories in tallies. She could only assume he was the Ceres champion.
He leaned in close, breath reeking of fake liquor and bad hygiene. “Don’t listen to him. I like the arm,” he whispered. “Mind if I give it a whirl?”
She gripped his wrist, twisted, and squeezed so hard that she could sense the bones would crack if she applied any more pressure. “You like it now?”
He yelped and she let go. “Lunatic.” He got up and hurried away, holding his wrist the whole way.
Sage smiled as all the men around the room stopped staring. She didn’t like to be seen. No executor did, really, but her more than others. She retrieved her armor and pistol out of her locker and found a secluded corner shower to wash up and change.
It was time to see if she’d cracked open Culver’s skull for no reason. Someone in the bar above would have seen the victory. Someone, she hoped, with connections.
19
Chapter Nineteen—Sage
After emerging from the pits, Sage attempted to lose herself in the crowd, but there was no point in trying. Everyone surrounding the cage of the sunken arena immediately turned to greet her. Some hollered words of praise, others whistled, but most of the men offered her drinks or a night in their company.
She’d hoped changing into her armor would keep them at bay, but it only seemed to make them more ravenous. A female warrior whom they’d watched kill a rival fighter twice her size—that was the sort of thing that appealed to these people. Not faith. Purpose.
She ignored them all. Sage had a mission, and none of the ingrates begging for her touch were worth the time.
Moving hastily enough to escape any conversation, she got lost in the sultry chaos of a dance floor. Colorful lights flashed along with pulsing music in a dizzying manner. Gyrating men and women in hanging transparent cases flaunted their emaciated bodies in rhythm to the music.
The crass behavior of the Ceresians was enough to make her sick. Sweat splashed on her from every direction as people danced in ways she could never have imagined. Slimy bare legs squirmed as if she were in a crowd of frantic worms. Tongues thrashed. Women and men moaned with pleasure. Eyes rolled back from drugs. And everybody seemed to be celebrating as if they’d just won a war.
Sage wanted to vomit by the time she finally reached a break in the noxious revelry. She wiped the sticky layer of sweat forming over her brow; whether it belonged to her or a dancing Ceresian she didn’t know. Then she headed toward the bar, only to find an android serving from behind the counter.
Just hearing its cold, monotone voice taking orders made her stomach turn even more, so she decided to find a seat at an empty table as far away from all of the clamor as possible. In a dark corner where luckily the overhead lights were busted.
When she pulled out the chair and went to sit, a sudden feeling of vertigo rushed to her head. She would have fallen if the table hadn’t been there to brace her. After the dizziness waned, it felt as if someone pounded on the inside of her skull with a hammer. Her hands shuffled along the arm of the chair until she was able to position herself to fall into it.
I am a knight in the darkness, a vessel of their wisdom. She again began reciting the vows of an executor in her head to keep calm. I am the silent hand of the Tribune. I will not lose faith amongst the faithless.
“Got somethin’ on your mind, honey?” a large dark-skinned man said, resting his hands on her table. By the looks of the logo and number on his boilersu
it, he was a miner.
“I’m not looking for a drink, so why don’t you get lost?” she bristled. She leaned her still-aching head on her fist and looked away. As she did, she slid her free hand inconspicuously down to her holster just in case.
“Whoa!” The Ceresian’s unexpectedly kind eyes widened. He took a step back. “Look, I ain’t here for that. Since you don’t seem too fond of wastin’ time, I guess I’ll cut right to it. The names Julius, and my business associate and I saw you down in the arena. Very impressive.”
“Thanks,” she said dismissively.
“Look. We got a job, a big one, and we need fighters to get it done.”
She didn’t let it show, but the offer piqued her interest. “What kind of job? I’m no miner if that’s what you’re after.”
Julius laughed. It was warm, inviting, but she didn’t let the sound fool her. “I can take you to my associate, but I can’t tell you here. Too many prying ears and such.”
“You think I’m that easy?” She drew her pulse-pistol and placed it on the table so that the barrel casually faced in Julius’ direction. “What is it you and your friend want? My armor, or what’s underneath it?”
“You didn’t grow up here, did you?” He leaned over close enough to her so that anybody looking wouldn’t be able to see her drawn firearm. “Why don’t you put that thing away before we both find trouble.”
“Trouble with whom? Are one of those bags of bolts going to take me down?” She didn’t need to see the android bouncers in action to recognize their ineffectiveness. The Tribune had instructed her about them well enough.
“You must be really new here.” He got even closer to her and whispered, “All I can tell you is the job involves Tribunal freighters and a shit ton of gravitum. C’mon. What’ve you got to lose?”
She tried not to sound too eager, but her green eyes began to glint as she realized how fortunate she was. Assuming Julius wasn’t lying, of course. She stowed her pistol. “All right, I’ll come,” she said, keeping her tone level. “But I’ll have my eyes on you.”
“Whatever helps.” Julius sighed and began to lead her out of Dome 534.
Sage stayed right at his back as they walked, her artificial hand curled into a fist and ready to incapacitate. Julius guided her through the underpass station, where stumbling junkies waited for their tram and bantered about nothing. Where beggars with all sorts of deformities imaginable offered to do unspeakable things to get their paws on a few pico credits.
They moved up a winding pathway carved out of a bluff. The higher they got, the darker it was, and Sage was about ready to abandon the venture and toss Julius aside when they arrived at a clearing dug into the surface of a sharp promontory. A man in a navy-blue shirt sat on the other side, feet dangling over the edge. He stared off at the vast hollow below filled with the flickering lights of metal shacks and the always colorful dome.
The man turned his head, but it was too dark for Sage to distinguish any of his features. “My father used to take me here when I was just a child,” he said. His voice was smooth and articulate, a breath of fresh air compared to the typical incoherence and thick accents she found characterized most Ceresians. “Not many people come up here anymore. Our sad excuse for a park on Ceres. Nothing as beautiful as the Conduits you grew up in, I’d wager, with their viewports and sunrooms?”
It took her a moment to realize that it was a question. “How did you know where I’m from?” she asked, stepping to the side so that Julius and the mysterious man were both in front of her, knowing to always keep eyes on potential enemies. As Julius walked over to sit beside the stranger on an outcrop of rock, she surreptitiously wrapped her fingers around the grip of her pistol.
“Well, for starters, it’ll take a few months down here before your skin is pale and dry enough for you to blend in,” the man said. “And since I already know you arrived recently, I’d have to imagine you’re the beauty I’ve heard so many guards drooling over.”
She decided to ignore his last comment. “I do miss seeing the sun,” she replied, and she meant it.
“And now you’re here fighting in the arena like some common brawler, even though I can tell that there’s nothing common about you. There was a time I took to those pits in order to win some spare pico. I bet the managers didn’t care too much for a woman taking out their top combatant?”
“No, they didn’t.”
He chuckled. “So what brings you to this district, then? I can’t imagine you’ve come here to live as a fighter.”
“Opportunity,” Sage said. She didn’t want to reveal too much too soon. Agatha Lavos didn’t seem like someone who would trust easily, and she wasn’t keen on it either.
The man stood and approached her. He had the slightest hitch to his steps, like he’d suffered a leg injury long ago. Most here had too many of their own problems to notice it, but it was her job to notice things.
“The name is Talon Rayne,” he said.
As he exited the shadow, Sage found herself unexpectedly surprised by his face. It was incredibly handsome, even if he did have a scruffy beard covered in dandruff from typical Ceresian dry skin. A burn mark scarred a patch of flesh over his right eyebrow, but it wasn’t enough to draw her attention away from his eyes. They were as blue as the ancient sky of Earth she always imagined, and they bore a certain weariness that made him appear as if he had a longer story to tell than his age would indicate.
When he got close enough, he extended a gloved hand.
“Agatha Lavos,” Sage said. She made sure to peek over her shoulder before stepping forward. She instinctually went to clasp her hands together and bow, and then remembered how the arena announcer had originally established their deal. It wasn’t what she was used to on New Terrene, but she extended her human hand to shake his.
She had expected a stronger grip considering his fit physique, but she was used to men treating her like she was fragile. Only then did she realize that she’d been staring into his eyes since the moment he approached her, and that he’d been doing the same to hers. Their hands remained locked, like they were frozen in that moment. Her heart began to race with such an unexpected ferocity that she swiftly let go and averted her gaze. She stumbled slightly as she backed away, hoping he didn’t notice.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agatha,” Talon said, gaze flitting between her and his now empty hand.
“So, what is this job?” she said quickly. She wasn’t sure why she felt bad for lying about her name to this stranger, but she wanted more than anything to move on.
“Straight to the point. Just like a true merchant,” Julius said.
“Oh, come now, Julius. Don’t be jealous. The mines aren’t too bad.” Talon sat down beside him, trying to hide the fact that he was eyeing her from head to toe with his peripherals. She noticed. She always did.
“So, you know everything about me?” Sage responded anxiously, moving to stand right in front of them.
“Just what you told the people managing the arena. I figure a servant of the Tribune wouldn’t be able to leave even if they wanted to, but the Conduits are supposed to be free of ownership. Even the one over Mars. Or are we wrong?”
“My parents were smugglers during the Earth Reclaimer War, but I was too young to remember that,” Sage explained. She was careful to insert some phony emotion into her tone so it didn’t seem like she was reciting from note cards. “The Tribune killed them outside New Terrene when we were caught. I escaped. I grew up moving from Conduit to Conduit. It took almost everything my parents left me to repair my arm after the attack… everything but my mom’s armor and pistol. But I was never meant to be a merchant—”
“You were meant to fight. To take from those who took your parents from you.” Talon took the words right out of her mouth. “I used to think the same way. Well, Agatha, I can’t promise you much, but I can say you’ll get to take down some of those Tribunal bastards.”
“Nothing would—” she paused to gather her breath
enough to allow her words to betray all that she stood for “—make me happier.”
“Perfect.” Talon hopped to his feet, grimacing first from the exertion, and then put on a warm smile. “I can’t tell you the pay yet, but we’ll be hitting a Tribunal freighter carrying a hell of a load of gravitum. It’ll be well worth your while.”
Julius hadn’t been lying. Her eyes grew wide. Goosebumps rose all along her skin. “So you’re the ones hitting all those freighters I’ve heard about on the newsfeeds?”
“We wish.” Julius laughed.
“None of us has any idea who’s responsible for that, but we want in on the action,” Talon said. “Anybody who could do what you did to Culver back there is either half insane or exactly what we need.”
“Probably a little bit of both,” Julius added before spitting over the ledge.
Sage shot a look at him so scathing that he immediately fell silent and pretended to see something in the distance. She turned to Talon and said, “As long as the pay is good, I’m in.” The Ceresian fascination with monetary systems remained foreign to her, but she had to make sure she sounded genuine.
“If we succeed, you’ll never be hungry again,” Talon promised. “Hell, you’ll be able to buy an arena of your own.” He extended his hand. “So, are you in?”
Sage didn’t waver this time before grasping it. “I’m in,” she agreed. “Just tell me what to do.”
“For now, you just have to hang out while we finish filling out a team. In the meantime, you’ll be holing up here with Julius.”
Her brow knitted. “And why is that? You didn’t buy me.”
“No, but we can’t risk anything about this little mission leaking out, can we? And judging by the way you’re fiddling with that gun of yours, you’re just about as untrusting as I am.” He jutted his chin toward her artificial hand, which she hadn’t even realized was so close to her holster.
“I may not think you’ll tell anybody, but I’ve known Julius here my whole life,” he said. “And I’d trust him with my own. So I know it’s the truth when I say you’ll be safe with him. Besides, I doubt somebody so new to this place has anywhere else to stay unless you want to hit up a flophouse closer to the core.”
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 14
