by Jessica Snow
Chapter Eleven
Audra
Jensen, Tauren and I are watching Mogar's small shuttle lift off and disappear over the horizon, and I have to admit that I admired the Tamarian. I can't say I like him, I could see that his mind works in a way that Tauren calls gamesman-like. I've never really felt comfortable around people who treat life like a strategic game, but at the same time I sensed no hostility from him. If anything, he seemed to be measuring me for some reason, every word we exchanged turned over and over in his mind, evaluated against some target that I have no idea what it is.
“I hope you thanked him for the chocolate,” Tauren remarks to Jensen as the shuttle fades into a small dot, and then vanishes completely. “That's pretty hard to get, you know. Not too many farms can produce cacao beans that are food grade. Something to do with soil alkalinity.”
“I did,” Jensen says, turning and looking Tauren over. I have to admit, with the change of clothes, into something that nearly mirrors Jensen's own choice of clothing, he's even more handsome. The only difference I can see, besides their skin tone and the tiny difference in height, is that Tauren's kept the same tunic he had before, with its V-shaped twin closures, while Jensen's tunic closes in the middle of his chest. They're even wearing the same pants, boots, and identical holsters on their legs for their powerlances. “You look comfortable in that.”
“I am. You look capable as well. I've been curious, Jensen. How did Mogar have you train for the Games?” Tauren asks, looking around. “I've wondered how it compares to my background.”
“I volunteered, actually,” Jensen says. “When your father put out the order, I went to Mogar and told him that I wanted to fight, to make sure that nobody else in his house would have to sacrifice their lives in the Games. And he spared no expense in my training. While I'm sure you have more years, it is something I've wondered as well, ever since last night at least.”
“Want to find out?” Tauren asks, taking out his powerlance and extending it to its full length. He flips a switch, and I hear as the lance powers down, locking it in place.
“Wait just a moment,” I interrupt, surprised. “What happened to you keeping an advantage over us that we wouldn't know what you're capable of?”
“Keeping an advantage over an enemy is good. Keeping knowledge from your friend and ally could be disastrous,” Tauren says. “Besides, it'll be fun. We could be gentlemen about it even.”
“I've been called many things, Tauren. I don't remember being called gentle before though,” Jensen replies with a laugh. “Just nothing that requires a med kit afterwards, at least intentionally?”
“Agreed. And let's make it more interesting. Winner gets the loser's chocolate tonight.”
Jensen takes out his powerlance and extends it before also powering it down, and the two men walk to the middle of the small clearing that Mogar used for his shuttle before, shocking me, they bow to each other.
“The honor is mine,” both say, a greeting I've seen but never used in my training, Neyilla didn't feel honor had any place for her bodyguard, and they step back, before Jensen attacks first with a powerful overhand sweep of his staff that Tauren blocks, deflecting it to the side before twisting, kicking out with his left leg and catching Jensen in the hip. Jensen moves with it though, and what looks like it should have dislocated his leg leaves him hopping backwards, a grin on his face.
“You're going to have to do better than that, gladiator,” Tauren taunts, and Jensen's smile widens.
“I have plenty of tricks, ones they don't teach the pampered and well-born,” Jensen replies, and they attack each other again, this time Jensen getting the upper hand as he uses a block of Tauren's staff to simultaneously sweep Tauren off his feet, where he rolls to the side before Jensen's foot can connect with a finishing kick.
I'm breathless, entranced watching as Tauren and Jensen struggle together, their lances eventually discarded to wrestle on the ground, neither man seemingly able to maintain an advantage on the other. Jensen might be slightly more powerful, but Tauren's long limbs and fluid movement leaves him able to somehow wiggle out of positions that leaves Jensen grasping at thin air. Harsh breathing and even some laughter punctuates their efforts, and I realize that for the two of them, they're bonding in the way that men do, and women maybe just don't understand.
They're both still at a stalemate, smiles on their faces from enjoying the challenge when I hear a group approaching behind us and I turn, my hand going to my powerlance as I see a group of fifteen black-clad supporters of Mathias approaching, about half of the population in the camp. “What do you want?”
Behind me, I hear Jensen and Tauren stop, both of them quickly getting to their feet and I can hear the whine of their lances powering up as the men and women come closer. They're armed, but so far nobody's pulled their Gauss pistols. “We're here to get Mathias back.”
“Mathias is under censure for disobeying my orders to leave Tauren alone,” Jensen says, stepping forward. He dusts off his tunic, looking at the leader of the blacksuits. “And for assaulting Audra.”
“Regardless, we are here to see him freed,” the man says. “If not, there will be consequences.”
“Are you.... threatening me?” Jensen asks, his voice full of threat and wonder. “And what makes you think that you can do that?”
The man gulps, and looks back at his compatriots, who nod in support. “If you do not free Mathias, we will stop work in the camp. The transports, the supplies.... all of them will be destroyed. The electronics as well. Who do you think runs the power systems?”
The threat hangs heavy in the air. While Mathias' people are only about twenty percent of the camp, and he's nowhere as popular as Jensen, he does have supporters in the right places. While the man is exaggerating, most of the systems he thinks the blacksuits control are actually mixed, they do have a hand in running the camp. More importantly though, is the twenty percent. That's enough people that Jensen can't ignore them if they decide to start something.
I can see Jensen consider this, then nod. “I will talk with Mathias.”
“And Lian?” the man asks, causing Jensen to shake his head.
“He not only struck my sister, but threatened her with rape. That will not be tolerated. If you want to go on a general strike on that, you'll find my boot in your ass before you can utter the first complaint,” Jensen says, stepping forward, staring the leader of the blacksuits in the eye. “And spread this among your people. Anyone who threatens rape again, to Audra or anyone else, will quickly find their cock and balls strung from my tent pole the way you like to wear Neyla crystals. Understood?”
I'm surprised the man doesn't piss his jumpsuit in fear, his eyes go so wide. His Adam's apple bobs ridiculously as he swallows and steps back, his fear evident. “Until Mathias is free, nothing happens in camp.”
The blacksuits retreat, and we watch them disappear into the trees, our good mood ruined. Jensen's face is clouded, but when I try to hurry after the blacksuits, he puts his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “No, Audra. If we hurry, we just make it look like we're more worried about their threat than we should be.”
“But Jensen, what if they cause havoc?” I ask, stopping when Tauren steps forward.
“Jensen's right, Audra. There's a time to charge off, but this isn't. We don't know just how much the man's threat is real, and how much of it is bullshit. The best course of action would be for Jensen to talk with Mathias, and to allow you and I to evaluate the threat,” Tauren says, shaking his head sadly. “What's your plan, Jensen?”
“Just what you said,” Jensen replies, sighing. “Take ten minutes to try and have some fucking fun.”
Tauren chuckles. “If we'd had another thirty seconds, you would not have thought it was much fun. I was setting up your left leg quite nicely.”
Jensen takes the joke for what it is, laughing at the taunt. “You'd have had a hard time twisting my left leg if you were passed out from the choke I had set up.”
Tauren grins, of
fering his hand to Jensen. “Perhaps we can find out another time which one of us was correct. For now though, heavy is the mantle of command. But you have friends and family to help you with that burden.”
“You freed him,” I note levelly at lunch when I see Mathias walking through the camp, his face beaming as he embraces some of his followers. “I was hoping that wouldn't have to happen.”
Jensen stirs his soup, following my eyes. “I felt it was the best thing to do for the camp and the Resistance as a whole, Audra. Despite what he did to you. I did tell him that if he does anything like that again, I'll personally shoot him.”
I hum, keeping my silence. I see Tauren talking with Rebbie, he's trying to reach out and normalize his position within the camp, and I can understand it. It'll be a long road, and I suspect that Tauren's intense honesty will find him making friends as well as enemies. But Rebbie has warmed to Tauren in the past, and she carries social weight. Her approval of him is critical for his acceptance. After watching him, I look back at Jensen, who's giving me a curious look. “What?”
“Nothing. I just thought that you'd be more upset over me letting loose a guy who kicked you in the stomach.”
“I spent twenty-three years a slave, Jensen, I'm used to having to deal with not getting my fair share of justice. Neyilla did a lot worse to me just for her own grins and giggles. I don't know what it was like in Mogar's house, although I can make some guesses. He treated you with respect, that much I know. Not so much in Neyton and Neyilla's care.”
“Which is why I value your insight, Audra. You've told me a little about what Mathias has been through. I guess.... maybe I feel a little bit of pity for Mathias. What Neyilla put him through, and to know that Tauren was in camp, I've tried to give him a lot of leeway. Actually, the timing was all off, but I was planning on freeing Tauren anyway after the way he's been the past few weeks. But Mathias only knows fear and intimidation, and I can't give him any more leeway. I couldn't use fear on him, it wouldn't work, and it's not the sort of world that I want us to live in.”
I pat Jensen on the shoulder, understanding. “Jensen, I'm not upset about it. Actually I think it shows a lot of patience with him. Besides, Lian's still locked up, at least for a while. My concerns are more about the camp, and the Resistance.”
Jensen nods, and takes a bite of his soup. “I've spoken with Mogar, and he's going to be in touch with the other Resistance leaders. There's cells in most of the major cities, as you know. And the other camp leaders too, they're going to be brought in on this. I'll be talking with them this afternoon. But, this falls on my shoulders mostly. I should have seen it coming. Mogar has said that the dissenters in some of the other cells, they're starting to look up to Mathias. The percentage is still small, but it's growing.”
“How?” I ask. “Mathias said he joined the Resistance just a month before our escape.”
“He did, but he's not the first hardliner I've had to deal with,” Jensen says. “The difference this time is that Mathias has charisma, he's making friends. Most of the past hardliners, they let their rage burn themselves out, to push away others as much as they do gain friends. Their rage makes them fight amongst themselves as much as with me. I think a big issue is that Mathias came in with friends already, men and women from the sex pens. Mogar and I planned the rocket at the Games to mostly free the gladiators, and to snatch Tauren. I knew the sex slaves were coming in too, but never have we had to absorb such a large number of them before, not all at once. Those men and women.... they're scarred, they're angry. They were violated in ways that I never was. They've had to go through drug withdrawal, and what their owners did to them is horrible. So I've given them some leeway. With Mathias though, I had to draw a line in the sand.”
“What's the arrangement?” I ask, and Jensen points, where I see a group of blacksuits moving their equipment.
“Mathias acknowledges that his people are not numerous enough for their own camp, nor do they have the skills. So for now, he and his followers will stay with our camp, in their own section. Duties will be divided up, and when Mathias has enough people, we'll arrange for him and his followers to start their own cell. That has its own problems, but in the meantime it should help things.”
I shake my head, sighing. “Then you'll have a rogue cell to deal with, and rogue cells quickly turn into cancers. Let me go talk to him, Jensen. We grew up together, Mattie and I. Maybe I can help him.”
“You're feeling guilty about the change he's showing,” Jensen notes. “Why?”
I shrug. “Maybe there's still a part of me that remembers the boy that I played with, and the teenager that I said I loved. Maybe I feel guilty, thinking there could have been something else I could have done to keep Neyilla's drugs from messing him up so much, making him so angry. Maybe I'd like to bring him back into the fold.”
“I'd like that too. He's got talent, Audra. He could be a great leader and a great asset for the Resistance. But right now he's on the edge of being self-destructive. I'm just worried that he's going to bring down a lot of people with him when he goes over the edge.”
I finish up my soup, and set my bowl down. “I think I'll go talk with him now. He and I were close, Jensen. Maybe I can get him to ratchet this down, to think more clearly. You mind washing up my bowl?”
Jensen shakes his head, picking up my leftover dishes from lunch. “No, go ahead. Good luck.”
I cross the camp to where Mathias is still talking with some of his followers, stopping when I see a couple of them put their hands on their Gauss pistols. I hate the fact that everyone's walking around armed, but I don't see any way around it. If royal troops find the camp, we need everyone to be able to fight, and spending time handing out weapons is time we can't spare. One of Mathias' followers, a woman with honey blond hair and the obviously surgically enhanced body of a sex slave, stares daggers at me. “What do you want?”
“I'd like to talk to Mathias,” I reply, trying to place her name. Ilsa, I think. The camp's getting big enough, I'm starting to lose track of a lot of the people. I know faces, I know jobs, but I don't know names. “Mathias, can we talk?”
“The Captain doesn't have time for collaborating....” Ilsa replies, before Mathias puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her mid-sentence.
“It's okay, Ilsa. Audra and I go way back. Come, Audra. Let us talk.”
“Alone, please? Mattie.... I'm trying to talk to a friend.”
I see Mathias' face twist a little when I use the name I used to have for him, and he nods, his features softening. “Over here, it's private enough.”
We walk about fifty meters from the camp, sitting down on a pair of rocks. There's a little bit of space between us, which I'm glad for. Even though I told Jensen that I'm used to violence, now I'm nervous. This isn't Neyilla, this is Mathias. Mathias notices my tenseness and takes his Gauss pistol out, tossing it back towards the camp a few meters where it lands on a patch of leaves, still shiny but safe. “Keep your lance, if it helps. Have we really gotten to that point, Audie? Where you don't trust me anymore?”
“You promised me after the last time that you wouldn't hurt me anymore, Mattie. You remember that?” I ask softly. “If you need a reminder, I'll take off my tunic.”
Mathias shakes his head. “If it helps, I apologize for the kick. I do not apologize about going into the tent, however. The Pinko should die.”
“Tauren is a member of the Resistance now, Mathias. He wants what you want.”
Mathias snorts. “If he wanted that so much, he'd drop dead for me. Because that's the only way he wants what I want. For him and every other Tamarian to die.”
“You can't mean that, Mathias. But....” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself and turn the conversation back towards something positive. “Jensen says you want to take your people and form your own camp. When you have enough. I'd like you to reconsider that.”
Mathias nods, then looks back over his shoulder. “Simple way to do that, Audie. Jensen breaks it off
with Mogar, and then takes Prince Pinko and shoots him in the head, me and my people will be more than happy to rejoin his group of collaborators.”
“Collaborators?” I ask, struggling to keep my anger in check. “You really think that's what Jensen's doing?”
“He's becoming Mogar's lapdog,” Mathias half yells, checking his voice at the last instant. “I heard about it from my people, he was following that scholarly fuck around like a little bitch. Oh yes, Lord Mogar, I'll be happy to use us humans as your cannon fodder so that you can put yourself or your bitch boy on the throne. Oh yes sir, I'll be a good little human for you, don't you worry about that at all. Don't you worry about those real humans, the ones who want to stand up for themselves, I'll be more than happy to keep them in line. Jensen's nothing than Mogar's dog!”
My hands twitch, and I nearly jump to my feet, but I keep myself somehow in check, I can see some of Mathias' people looking over, their hands drawing towards their pistols. “You... you can't mean that, Mathias. Jensen wants freedom, for both humans and Tamarians. He wants to see us cooperate, to get along. He wants...”
“He wants to be a good little slave,” Mathias yells, loud enough that I know people heard it. Mathias takes a deep breath, then he looks me in the eyes, a mad gleam in his look. “So do you.”
“Take that back, Mathias. I swear to heaven and stars, the only reason I'm not trying to kick your ass right now is because of our past. But I can see that's over, dead and buried.”
“Damn right it is,” Mathias says, standing up. “I don't have relationships with Pinko Lovers.”
“You know I hate that term, Mathias. It's ugly!” I reply, standing myself. “It makes you sound like Neyilla, ugly and hateful.”
“Oh don't worry, that bitch will get what's coming to her too,” Mathias yells. I see movement from his portion of the camp, and Mathias turns his head, holding out a hand to them. “Go. Run back to your brother and your Pinko lover.”
