Planet Kill

by Sebastian Wilde

  “Oh,” Pierce said, realizing he was even less than a “guest.” He was a temporary fad for adrenaline junkies.

  “If you want help from me, it won’t be free.”

  “I’d imagine not.”

  They stared at each other for a minute.

  “You know,” Pierce said, “I don’t mean this in a disrespectful way, but it is truly shocking how over-the-top experienced fighters here can be. I mean seriously, you guys all need to unwind more. I don’t mean the orgies and the drinking. You need a real break. Just, you know, good old-fashioned rest on the beach. No sex, no drugs. Just you and the waves. Think about it.”

  Letha raised her hand as if she was going to slap him, but then she changed her mind.

  “Here’s a little advice, Noob. You should be less snarky and have more situational awareness. The only people you can trust are those who want something from you. And try to get better at fucking. You were terrible last night. I admit, your body is divine. Your face is easy on the eyes. Even your cock is beautiful, but you did so little with it. You don’t know how to use your gifts. That is really the main reason that I didn’t have a taste.”

  “Are you seriously lecturing me right now?” Pierce asked, surprised.

  “Damn straight,” Letha snarled. “My people may have taken you in. You might have thought telling the truth about your purpose here as a joke might be a coy way of getting what you want. If word spreads that I’ve got an Agent, you’ll quickly become a liability, rather than an ally. Do you know what I do to allies who let me down?”

  “I have a feeling,” Pierce said. “But please, continue with the lecture. This is great.”

  Letha paused, her eyes ablaze. “Are you mocking me?”

  “No, I mean it. The more I know, the better my chances are. Go on, please.”

  Letha rolled her eyes and sneered at him. “Do you want my help or not?”

  “Very much so,” Pierce said. “I don’t think I’m going to make it otherwise.”

  “The only reason I’m doing this is because I want this system to crumble. I’m not one to forgive. Even though I was going to volunteer, I never got the chance. They took me in my sleep. I went without the credits I’d saved. I came here without preparation. The only reason I survived in the beginning was because of the help of an experienced fighter who took me under her wing.”

  Letha averted her eyes, but Pierce wasn’t really sure why. He hadn’t seen enough of her televised fights to know which person or mentor she was referring to.

  “And if you’re right, and you can do something about this, my vengeance will have begun,” Letha continued. “I paid good credit for fresh intel. I have reason to believe a certain Warden is involved in the coalescing of clans against me. His name is Ulric. I’m willing to give you a small loan and allow you to use the temple that my allies protect if you investigate him. I need to know if he’s behind this.”

  “You know, all you had to do was ask,” Pierce said.

  “Asking will get you killed here,” Letha said.

  “I’ve noticed that.”

  She held her wristband out in front of her, inches from Pierce’s face.

  “I’m going to help, but only if you do what I demand,” she said. “Here.”

  She swiped at the holographic projection above her forearm. Her account appeared.

  “I’m lending you some credits so you can visit one of the temples and get properly armed,” she said. “Be careful, though. Wardens keep a close watch, and several lone wolves like to hang out around the Sleipnir temple in hopes of catching prey off-guard. If you’re very lucky, and very unlucky at the same time, you might be tested by the sirens themselves.”

  “Thank you,” Pierce responded. His own wristband lit up with a notification. He swiped at it, and a holographic image of his account appeared. A few hundred credits were now where they hadn’t been before. They were enough for a solid weapon. Nothing fancy, but enough to kill. “This is too much. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Don’t make me regret my decision,” Letha said. “Don’t fail me. And next time we meet, I suggest dropping the snark. It doesn’t sit well with people here.”

  “Drop the snark. Roger, wilco. Consider it done.”

  “You really aren’t capable of a civil conversation, are you?”

  Pierce smirked. “I was under the impression that civility will get you killed here.”

  “That doesn’t mean there aren’t rules and etiquette. You should conduct yourself with more grace.”

  “I’ve seen your video feeds,” Pierce said, furrowing his eyebrows. “Etiquette?”

  Letha cheeks started to redden but she managed not to blush. “Get out, now,” she murmured, almost a whisper. “Before I fucking end you.”

  Pierce knew better than to ignore that tone. She was done with this conversation, and when a killer like Letha was done, even he realized it was time to leave.

  24

  Separate Paths

  Planet Kill, Aero’s Camp

  Pierce knew he needed to get out of dodge, but he needed to see Essie before he left. After all, despite Letha having taken him in for saving Brink, Essie had saved him in the first place.

  Outside Letha’s inner circle, the others were resting from their night of frolicking. Off to the left, he spotted Essie, keeping her distance but staying close enough to be safe. Her eyes roamed the horizon, fearful of what could come their way at any moment.

  Essie had camped out with the other recruits who’d been brought into the group by Letha and her generals for their beauty, potential skill, or fighting ability and strength. Letha had brought in even more than she normally would have because of the ongoing alliance against her. It was a fortunate stroke of luck for both Pierce and Essie. Maybe.

  None of the recruits had been allowed to drink or engage in the orgy or celebration. They’d have to prove their worth first. The only reason Pierce had been inducted was that he’d saved Brink’s life.

  Yet, through all that, what no one knew was that Essie had saved his life first, making his rescue of Brink even possible. Pierce felt a pang of guilt for not having done more for her. He’d been so distracted trying to get help from Letha that he’d almost forgotten about Essie. He owed her. Not to mention, she seemed like a good person. He needed to do more to help her. He skittered over next to where she was sitting, making sure not to startle her. “Hey,” he said.

  She looked up and smiled. Essie didn’t bother drawing anything in the mud. She just stared at him.

  Pierce asked, “What’s wrong?”

  She finally picked up a stick. “My son,” she wrote. “I came here because he’s dying. The surgery is too expensive.”

  Pierce hung his head. After a moment of reflection, he swiped at his wristband, pulled up his screen that projected from the AUG-I in his right iris and transferred half his credits to Essie.

  She blushed, surprised, but grateful.

  “It should be enough to get a small weapon,” he said. “Hope it helps.”

  “It will,” she wrote. “Thank you.” She hugged him, tight, sincere.

  They stared at each other another moment. A tear rolled down Essie’s cheek, and Pierce found himself wishing they could stay together longer. Perhaps in another life.

  “I have to go,” he murmured.

  Her face deflated. “Good luck,” she wrote. “I hope you find her.”

  Pierce didn’t respond. He just got up and headed in the direction of the temple.

  The temple Letha had pointed Pierce toward was a sight to behold. It had a steeple on top and walls carved with images of fights to the death. If he didn’t know what it was, he would have mistaken it for a temple of worship. Eons ago, it might have been one.

  Technically, Letha had control over the Sleipnir temple, but it wasn’t in her territory. Anyone wanting to take it over would have to kill her to pull off her access key. Even though the temple could be taken physically, it wouldn’t provide any value without Letha�
��s key, or permission.

  Letha’s problem was that Sleipnir was located deep in hostile territory. Sure, she owned it, but what good was that if she couldn’t get to it? That was exactly why she’d allowed Pierce access, as long as their objectives aligned.

  Sleipnir was made out of a huge pile of boulders that jutted out of the ground, surrounded by trees and vines. Every one of those might be hiding someone ready to pounce and kill Pierce for the credits, glory, and viewers. His only chance was to walk out in the open and reveal that he’d received Letha’s mark.

  Even armed with her mark, which functioned as a passport of sorts, his nerves were firing a million miles a minute. Sweat beaded down his forehead. His palms were sweaty. As he stepped out into a clearing, he held up his wrist, revealing the mark just below his wristband. It was an image of a half-woman, half-snake. A fitting symbol for Letha, he thought.

  Three warriors emerged out of the dense foliage: one who’d been hanging onto a branch high above, one who blended in with the shrubbery on the ground, and one who emerged seamlessly from the trees. All were naked. All were painted in camouflage that matched their hiding spots.

  Pierce couldn’t help but be aroused. The three female warriors were strong, fierce, confident, and graceful as they edged closer to him. The one painted like tree bark noticed his erection and smirked. The other two kept creeping closer. The one who looked like leaves grabbed his wrist and inspected the mark.

  It was tattooed and fresh. His skin was still raised and scabbing over from the process. Reckoning Day had just occurred. His story added up.

  The sirens wordlessly exchanged glances with each other, seeming satisfied. The one painted like tree bark stepped in close, her lips less than an inch from Pierce’s. “You’ll pay the toll or you won’t go inside,” she said.

  “What’s the toll?” Pierce asked.

  She answered by ripping his pants off, revealing his cock to a second group of people in less than twenty-four hours.

  “I’m not sure I have time for this. I’m kind of on a mission for Letha,” Pierce lied.

  “Then you don’t pass,” the tree bark-painted woman stated, as she stroked the side of his face.

  This situation was more familiar than what he’d experienced with Letha’s clan. Considering how much time he’d spent with his robot harem, a threesome didn’t feel as daunting as an orgy. Besides, he could see his goal right in front of his eyes. All he needed was to give three solid orgasms to complete strangers, and he was in.

  Pierce pulled his shirt off. “Let’s do this.”

  When he tried to kiss one of them, she pulled away and went back to licking his chest. When he tried to go down on another one, she pulled away too and continued merely stroking him. “Oh,” Pierce said, finally getting it. “That’s reserved for each other. You want something else from me.”

  They smiled their agreement. Pierce held his dick out for them to take. Take it they did. They passed it between each other, taking turns. As they laid him on the ground, for a brief moment, Pierce felt like he was merging with the foliage all around and couldn’t tell if he was caressing the sirens’ skin or the ground. As his body filled with excitement, he stopped caring and just went with it, thrusting more and more, hard then soft, then steady.

  This time, Pierce was in the right state of mind and didn’t finish until all three of the sirens had gotten their turn and climaxed. On cue, the gate opened. He’d earned his way into the temple.

  Inside, a statue of an eight-legged half-horse, half-human loomed down at Pierce from the center of the temple. The goddess statue almost looked like a centaur, but with a horse lower half and human torso and face.

  In Norse mythology, Sleipnir was known as an eight-legged horse ridden by Odin. Sleipnir was the child of Loki, the god of chaos. He was often ridden to the underworld. A connection to the world of death was apt for Planet Kill, and produced a sort of ominous feeling as Pierce pressed farther inward.

  The temple walls were gray and looming. Pierce had to step over several of the statue’s legs to get to the upgrade station. He observed that the statue was depicted as female.

  Pierce held out his wristband in front of a scanner, but nothing happened. As he started to pull his arm back, though, his new tattoo passed over the scanner, and the whole statue came to life.

  The statue opened its mouth. “Greetings. I would like to—”

  “Oh no,” Pierce said. His balls felt like they were going to disappear into his body. “I can’t take anymore. Please, is there anything else I can do?”

  The statue continued. “I was going to say that I would like to invite you to begin browsing for upgrades now, before you so rudely interrupted me and assumed I’d want you.” It paused for a moment. “You’re not my type anyway.”

  “Wow,” Pierce said. “A.I.?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” she replied. “Automated, at least.”

  “Interesting, that makes this whole process simpler. Plus, you know, human-like customer service is always nice.”

  “To be honest, satisfactory customer service is only being provided because of your current patron, who may at any time revoke your privileges. So tread carefully, please.”

  Pierce made a face. “I really am at her mercy now, huh?”

  “Was that a question?”

  “No, just an observation. So, how do I—”

  Images of weapons of all shapes and sizes began sliding in front of his eyes. Pierce reached out to grab one that seemed particularly fearsome, but an invisible force field zapped him.

  “Hey!” Pierce yelped. “What the fuck?”

  “You must buy before a weapon can be acquired.”

  “Oh. Got it. Cool. Okay. That one.” He pointed to a rather fine piece of work with blades along the edges in case someone tried to snatch it from him. It had a grenade launcher in the undercarriage and a barrel that was long enough to give him range, but not so long that he wouldn’t be able to handle close combat. “I’ll take that.” He tried to grab it, and the same thing happened. This time, the zap left a slight burn mark. “Come on!”

  “I’m afraid you do not have sufficient funds for this purchase. May I recommend something more suitable for your position?”

  “It’s not like I have a choice,” Pierce said.

  “Very well then,” she replied. Images scrolled for several seconds until arriving at a peashooter. It was the size of a tennis ball. Pierce wasn’t even sure he could fit his index finger into the trigger guard.

  “Seriously?” Pierce asked. “Is there anything else?”

  “I’m afraid most competitors don’t come to purchase something with so few credits, so weapons engineers don’t spend much time developing starter guns.”

  “Are you saying that’s the only one in my price range, but in a really rude and condescending way?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “Okay then. Let’s have it, I guess.”

  The statue snorted and muttered something incomprehensible, and the force field retracted.

  Pierce reached down, hesitant he’d get shocked again, and picked it up. He’d been right. He was going to have to use his pinky finger to shoot the damn thing. He blinked twice to activate his AUG-I, and a semi-transparent image of his player profile appeared before him: +10 Strength. It wasn’t much, but it was better than using his bare hands.

  “How many rounds does this thing even carry?” he asked.

  “Normally ten, but it’s only filled with seven since you lack funds for the remaining three bullets.”

  “And if I’d had double the credits I brought today, what would that have gotten me?”

  An image appeared before him of a rather vengeful-looking piece of weaponry. It had only a single blade on the side, but it was sharp. No undercarriage launcher, but the barrel was solid. The trigger guard wasn’t made for tiny fingers.

  “Damn,” Pierce said. “No good deed—”

  But he was cut off. �
�Please don’t. I wasn’t programmed to feel sympathy.”

  “Fine. I’ll just be on my way with my little gun. Thank you, by the way. This thing is going to do more damage in my hand than any of those others would with someone else. Remember that, and maybe you’ll be more accommodating next time.”

  “You’ve mistaken my personality for giving a shit. I don’t. Goodbye.”

  With that, the statue returned to stillness. The images vanished. Pierce was left all alone in the ancient temple that had been augmented to facilitate and support activities on Planet Kill. For a brief second, Pierce wondered what all the carvings meant. They weren’t from any human language. And the shapes were like nothing he’d ever seen. He was curious to know more, but he needed to get moving before someone found out who he was and decided to put a target on his back.

  25

  Letha’s Army

  Planet Kill, Aero’s Camp

  It was surprising that Fireshot hadn’t attacked Letha yet, but it didn’t surprise her. He was too full of himself and considered lower-level allies such as Aero to be beneath him, so he hadn’t even bothered sending out scouts to check the camp. Even after Aero had confronted him on Reckoning Day, Letha was still Fireshot’s enemy here.

  Maybe the man was preparing for the inevitable war. Maybe he was actually scared. She had lived, after all. He would’ve known differently if her face appeared in the sky with the rest of those who had been killed, or if he’d received points or credits for her demise.

  She’d had enough of her own shit to deal with lately, but now it was time to prepare for the final battle against him.