by J D Astra
The man leaned down to look Hana in the eyes. “Since shut the hell up and give me the money.”
She looked back at me, black zo lighting her eyes. I furrowed my brow and shook my head. She sighed and reached into her pocket. “Fine.” She slapped one thick gold coin into his palm, and I gasped. It was a fifty piece. I’d only seen them a few times.
“Keep the change,” Hana said as she pushed past the bouncer and opened the door. She held it for me, and I hobbled toward her. I dipped my head with a toothy smile as I passed the bouncer, and he rolled his eyes.
I wasn’t too bad at playing old man...
We walked through another dark concrete hallway, but I could see light from the arena at the other end. My pace quickened as my pounding heart shifted from nerves to awe. We stepped out onto a balcony overlooking a massive arena twenty meters below us. I looked up and around, counting the rows of seats as they rose up thirty high.
Bright spotlights shown down on the stone arena at the bottom where two huge bots rammed each other at top speeds. There was a loud crash, and shrapnel burst at the epicenter of the collision. The crowd erupted in joy as the light projection over the stadium showed the contender, ZoomZoom, get Xed out.
“Ready for a real fight?” Hana asked with an excited grin.
I nodded with confidence, though I felt anything but. “They won’t see me coming.”
She laughed and gestured toward a set of descending stairs beside me. “I’ll be in the stands. Don’t leave without me, gramps.”
I took the stairs slowly, hunching forward even more. When I reached the bottom, there was a bored looking man behind a desk that said Registration.
He looked up at me. “Name?”
“Uh, my name?” I asked, pointing to myself with a bony finger as I tried to stall. I hadn’t thought of my persona’s name. Rookie move.
The man rolled his eyes. “The bot’s name.”
“Oh, Tuko,” I said as I lifted the rucksack in my arms with a grin.
“Show me the bot.” He gestured to the table for me to set it down. I did as asked, and the attendant conjured a burst of ma munje in his palm. He pressed it down on Tuko’s top shell and hummed, then nodded. “Not too bad.”
I quirked an eyebrow. Not too bad, as if it could be worse.
The man scanned down the page, flipped it, and found a spot. “Second to last contender against The Ripper. Want it?” he asked without glancing up.
“Yes, please.”
He looked up, his eyes no longer bored, but wide with surprise. “You sure, noi-ne?”
I chuckled. “I’m sure, sonny.”
He shook his head, then scribbled something down. “Your bot’s funeral.” He ripped off a square of paper and handed it to me. I looked down and saw, “Tuko vs The Ripper — 20:1”
Mun-de-Jayu, twenty to one! Those odds with this crowd could get my mother to a real hospital for a change. Somewhere near the kingdom, somewhere good.
I tipped my head to him. “Thanks, sonny.”
He nodded to someone off to the right, then the wall there cracked, pulling back and away. There was a tall man with hands glowing a muted blue-gray, obviously manipulating the stone in the wall with en munje. He looked somewhat familiar, and I squinted up at him. “Aren’t you a kingdom gate guard?”
The man scowled. “You don’t know the rules, do you, noi-ne? We don’t talk about top side. You don’t know me; I don’t know you. That goes for anyone down here. We’re here for the sport only.”
I dipped my head with a delirious chuckle I hoped would make me sound crazy as I stepped through the opening. “I’m new to the kingdom! My grandson just moved me here from outer-city.”
The en user shook his head and pushed the wall back into place. “Down the hall, down the flight of stairs, off to the right is your room. Wait there until your bot is called.”
“Thanks, my boy! I hope I win!” I said as I gave myself a shaky-armed cheer and headed toward the stairs.
The gate guard scoffed then mumbled as I walked away. “He’s dead.”
I was one of—if not the—best bot fighter in twelve outer-cities. Sure, that wasn’t much compared to this arena of at least three thousand strong, but it wasn’t nothing. Outer-city bot fighters had to come up with scraps for bot fighting. We were resourceful, and we weren’t wasteful.
Many of the inner-city pungbahn added flare for flare’s sake, to make their bot look more attractive or deadly, but it didn’t add any functionality. Tuko looked like a mismatched, rusted panel spider-crab, but he had it where it counted, and so did I. I could sniff out the location of their reservoirs from a mile away, and Tuko never missed. He was an elite sniper.
Sniper types were garbage against brawlers if they missed their first shot. Usually the sniper would only get one good shot off before a faster, stronger bot was on top of them, and most only had two shots in them. Tuko was loaded down with seven different shots from three different locations. Each had varying power levels, projectile sizes, and shot composition.
I had a smoke bomb, razor wire, two hollow point lead bullets that would expand inside the bot, two en munje-infused shots that would melt after impact, and one explosive shot for emergencies.
I made it to my waiting room and took a seat on the nice, fluffy couch. It was a bit ripped at the edges, and there were some stains, but it was higher quality than I was used to having in my staging room. I settled down into the seat and began my last few energy cycles before the fight.
The sound of the crowd was intimidating as I thought of all those watching eyes looking down on me. I couldn’t afford to think about them. I only had to think about the Ripper, and Tuko. There were no other things in my world but those two bots and the arena they’d battle in.
The crowd burst into a joyous roar. They stomped their feet and cried out, “Rip-PER, Rip-PER!”
I sucked down a deep breath when a speaker came on overhead. “Tuko, enter the ring!”
Chapter 18
I OPENED THE DOOR TO the arena and stopped as my breath left me. Colored light of every shade I’d ever seen in the natural world zipped across the stadium floor, flashing and strobing like hyperglow fish. Men and women beat drums around the inner stadium, thudding along at half the rate of my pounding heart.
My gaze followed the lights upward and on into the towering crowd, up to the ceiling of the skyscraper. Massive crystals suspended by thick chains dangled down from the top, and ry users on scaffolding blasted the colorful gems with bursts of white magic.
“Get in there, noi-ne!” the announcer declared from his post on the balcony just above me.
I swallowed to wet my arid throat. This was nothing like outer-city.
I stepped into the arena and walked toward the raised tower on my side. My opponent was already seated in his tower. His bot was nowhere in sight, but his victims were spread across the arena floor in pieces. A vise-grip arm here, a metal wheel there, and oil stains everywhere.
“Give the gramps some encouragement, would ya?” the announcer asked with a laugh.
The crowd proceeded to boo, throwing obscenities and shouts of my destruction. The man in the tower grinned. He had a bright red mohawk, accented with a razor-sharp zigzag. His brows, nose, ears, and lips were pierced with metal cogs of different shapes and sizes, and I wondered if they were trophies from each victim.
I set Tuko down and threw my jacket around my shoulders, then climbed my tower to do battle. There was a soft cushion at the top of the tower with no handrails or guards. For the first time in my life, I was feeling a little afraid of heights. I took my seat and squared my control panel across my knees.
“Fighters at the ready!” the announcer boomed.
I let ma munje trickle down my arms and into the controls, then brought Tuko to life. I still couldn’t see the Ripper, but knew he was somewhere in the arena, maybe behind his master’s tower. I kept my eyes on the back corner of his tower, waiting for the gong to ring.
“Go!�
� the announcer bellowed, and a sharp buzzer rang out that caused me to start. My hands came off the controls for a quarter second, and movement burst to life directly in front of Tuko.
The pile of what I thought was trash sprung forward, grip-claws yawned open wide. I used an emergency burst of ma to amplify Tuko’s jump, getting him clear of the surprise attack with only a centimeter to spare. As the Ripper sailed under Tuko, I twisted him toward center mass and unleashed the spring bottom shot—hollow points this time.
The bullets ricocheted off the armor plating, and light flared all around my body with a ping-crackzap! I jumped again but kept my hands on the controls. I moved Tuko toward the back wall, the opposite direction of the Ripper.
The enemy bot came down in a roll and twisted on its side, then came up into a gallop after Tuko. It was some kind of hound bot with vise claws coming from its back! This bot was a mutant machine, taking all the deadliest parts of nature and infusing them with a metal skeleton.
I turned Tuko, and he skittered around the corner, ready to drop the razor wire between the opponent’s tower and the side wall. The Ripper was close, and I launched the shot with perfect aim. The wire nailed home on each side, and the Ripper jumped, but too late.
The back leg snagged on the wire and sliced clean off. The Ripper clattered to the floor, but recovered, using one of its grip-claws sprouted from its back to support the missing leg. I jerked the directional stick down, bringing Tuko back toward me. I still had a few more tricks up my sleeve.
The Ripper tore after Tuko at an awkward canter, the claw-leg replacement not nearly as agile as the missing leg. Tuko skittered around my post, and the mohawked man laughed.
“You think I’ll fall for the same thing twice?” he taunted me, but I kept my focus on the arena.
He navigated the Ripper around the opposite side, hoping to catch little Tuko in his own trick. I pressed the jump button with an extra burst of ma, and Tuko rocketed upward. I unleashed the smoke bomb directly ahead, covering the Ripper in a gray cloud.
Tuko came down, and I released an extra bout of ma from his reservoir. I used the magic to coat the Ripper, seeking out his power source. The cloud began to thin, and I saw the enemy bot not far from Tuko, thrashing his claws about like a wild animal.
I darted Tuko in and jumped just enough to get him eye to eye with the hound’s head. They collided with a smash, and I latched Tuko’s crab claw onto the hound’s neck and said farewell.
The claw barrel belched forth two en-infused rounds that sliced through the crack on the bot’s neck armor and blasted through his reservoir. Ma munje burst in a brilliant gold cloud, and the Ripper fell forward, completely disabled.
The arena was silent, aside from the pins dropping out of the Ripper. They pinged against the ground as the colorful lights sliced through the silence. Then the crowd burst in a scream of euphoric joy. My heart beat again, and the drums blasted.
The announcer screamed in shocked excitement, “That was unlike anything I’ve ever seen! Tuko the Sniper wins!”
I breathed, tasting the spent munje on the air. It was acidic and salty, with a hint of burnt sweetness. I bowed to the mohawk man. “Thank you for the excellent battle.”
The man crossed his arms, turning his head up and away. He spoke with only minor disdain. “Yeah, nicely done, gramps.”
I climbed down from my tower with sweaty, shaking hands. I scooped up Tuko from the arena floor and held him up high to the light. The crowd boomed with love and admiration. “Tu-ko, Tu-ko, Tu-ko!”
My heart swelled and I breathed in the moment. Never did I think I’d be standing at the center of an inner-city stadium a hero, holding little Tuko up a winner.
“Next up, the Ground Pounder vs Bumblebeetle!” the announcer said with excitement, and I knew that was my cue to leave.
I turned away from the colorful ring, a grin plastered to my face. I took the steps two at a time up to the bookie at the other end and then slowed when I saw her eyes upon me. I hunched over and limped on my left leg. “Ow, my hip! I haven’t felt so alive or in so much pain in my life!” I rubbed my hip and hobbled forward.
The bookie scrutinized me for a moment and then groaned. “Damn it Lorn-zo! You let another glimmer guise in!”
My voice caught in my throat. “Wha-what? I just use glimmer so I don’t look too old. So I can, you know, attract ladies.” I stammered like an idiot and cursed myself.
The bookie’s face soured, and she counted out money. “A win’s a win, even for a little Bastion Brat like you.”
She counted out forty golden coins. Forty. Two thousand guli! That was more money than I’d ever seen in one place. She scooted them across the table, then waved me off. “Get out... come back with your real face next time, you little creep.”
I bowed deeply. “Thank you.” Then I scooped the money off the table and into my pockets. I jingled toward the stairs to the door, my cheeks burning from joy. The gate guard gave me a pat on the back before opening the door to me. “Nice work, gramps.”
I slipped one of the golden coins out of my pocket and handed it to him with a grin, a sense of euphoria zipping around through my head.
“What are you doing, grandpa?” Hana in her beefy man voice asked, frustration in her strained tone. She grabbed my arm and pulled me through the door. “He’s senile; sorry about this.”
She pulled me along through the concrete hall, a tight grip on my arm as she hissed, “You don’t just go throwing your winnings back to the doorman. What are you thinking?”
“He was nice to me,” I offered, and she barked a laugh.
“Hold your pockets still as we go through this crowd, or we’re going to earn ourselves a tail,” she whispered as we reached the door to the outside hall.
I wrapped Tuko and the control panel back in the jacket and tucked it under my arm, then jammed my hands in my pockets to hold them steady. The jingling stopped, and I wiped the smile from my face. Hana didn’t loosen her grip as she pulled me through the line to the exit.
A hand slapped down on my back with a, “Good one, grandpa!” and I jumped.
Hana pulled me closer, and if she hadn’t been a hulking man, I would’ve felt butterflies in my stomach. Her sweaty, bulging bicep around my shoulder destroyed that possibility outright. I wondered how she made the illusion feel so real, but I’d have to bother her about it when we weren’t surrounded by prying eyes and ears.
She’d led me back up the stairs to the bar and through the crowd when the bartender shouted for us to wait. Hana was trying to keep pulling me along, but I slowed and approached the bar.
“Boss says you can come back to fight anytime, but no glimmers,” the barkeep shouted to us. “Fifty guli to store Tuko in our safe for the year if you fight exclusive with us.”
I glanced at Hana, who crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. I didn’t want to keep Tuko out in the open anymore—it was too great a risk of exposure or theft—but fighting exclusively at the Rabid Rabbit for the year might not work. Even being a student at Bastion, I probably couldn’t get into the kingdom in the off-season with my expired ID. I’d be Tukoless for the hardest part of the winter when we needed him most.
“How about twenty-five guli for half the year,” I offered, and the bartender’s eyes glimmered with purple munje. What the hell was that?
She nodded. “The boss agrees.”
I removed Tuko from the improvised rucksack and set him on the drink-stained counter, then produced another gold coin. She dropped two silvers—worth ten each—and five copper coins on the counter, then ferried away my Tuko and the gold coin. I scooped up the change and jammed my hands back in my pockets to keep the coins from clanking together.
When we exited the rowdy bar, Hana pulled me left, away from the school. “What are we doing?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“Quiet,” she said as she kept her gaze straight ahead.
The door to the Rabid Rabbit chimed behind us, and four men lacking the grins I’d seen thro
ughout the bar stepped out quietly and turned left. I sighed. Seems we’d earned a tail anyway.
Chapter 19
“I HOPE YOU’VE SAVED up some zo,” Hana warned as she pulled me down a dark alley. We broke into a run once we were out of view, and I heard the pattering shoes of our pursuers speed up with us. The coins in my pockets jangled louder than before, giving away our position each time we turned.
Perhaps that was exactly what we needed. I pulled Hana down another adjacent alley. “Drop our glimmers,” I whispered to her as I conjured a small amount of ry to mimic the sound of the coins.
She dropped the glimmers without questioning me, and I threw the sound spell down the alley, directing it away from us. I pushed Hana against the wall and wrapped my arms around her as the jingling moved on down the street. The men jogged past us without a second glance, following the sound of the coins.
“You’re pretty street-smart for an outer-city boy,” Hana whispered, and her warm breath tickled my neck.
“I could say the same thing about you, kingdom girl.”
She hummed with amusement and moved her arms up around my neck. “What do you think us kingdom girls do for fun? Sip tea and watch the cherry blossoms fall?”
I held her for a moment longer, both reveling in and rejecting the distraction of her body pressed against mine. When I couldn’t hear our pursuers, I pulled her toward the Rabid Rabbit. I held my pockets still as we ran, and Hana took us down yet another side alley.
I stopped, and she turned back, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We can get home this way, I promise. It’s longer, but there shouldn’t be any sungchal.”
I nodded and followed her into the dimly lit passageway.
“So,” she said as she gave me an appraising up-and-down. “Your ma munje is pretty good.”
“And your ry is excellent,” I said as I dipped my head toward her.
She chuckled. “Growing up in the entertainment business has taught me a lot about lies.”
“A lot about zo, too, it would seem,” I added to keep the conversation going.
