Challenge of Steel

by James David Victor

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Cread lowered his head. He daren’t say another word.

  “I am still awaiting my prize, Commander-General,” she said.

  “Of course, as you wish, right away, Your Majesty.” Cread clicked out of the secure channel, and instantly the golden bubble vanished around him. But he had no fear that the Eternal Empress wouldn’t still be observing everything that he was doing right now, or what was happening around the world of Hecta 3. A private field could, theoretically, keep her mysterious prying eyes out, but even then, there were ways to spy on the insides of a private field, and the Eternal Empress had many strange and terrifying powers…

  “Begin,” Cread called out to the waiting Marine, who saluted and turned back to his desk.

  This is it, Cread thought as he settled into his chair. He had a front row seat for what was about to be the show of the century.

  Far above the struggling and dying contestants on Hecta 3 sat the fragile web of Challenge satellites that monitored the surface. Above that floated the Challenge Hub, with its snowflake-like form now distorted and bulging with the visiting craft.

  But the amassed ensemble did not stop there. The hub was only the closest edge of the waves of metal that clustered around the planet. Obviously, there was a vigorously-enforced zoning system in place. No one without a platinum pass was allowed nearer than the hub. The different news agencies were the next closest wave—perfect for capturing Cread’s spectacle, unbeknownst to them. A few hundred miles beyond that came the next wave of allowed spectators. For years, the proximity to the Challenge site allowed a better bandwidth-transfer from the satellites—cleaner pictures, more real-time uploads.

  The more you could afford, the closer you would be allowed to the action.

  One of the best viewing stages that was even remotely affordable for any throne citizen was that of the cruiser Lucitania, named for something forgotten from long-ago Old Earth.

  The Lucitania was vast—a rounded lozenge with viewing decks striating across its length in long lines. The prices of the viewing ‘silver’ ticket were still exorbitant, but dedicated fans would save up for years in order to afford them.

  The Lucitania housed some six thousand souls and a further eight hundred staff. There were ballrooms and dining rooms, swimming pools and saunas. And of course, boxing rings, wrestling grounds, and gymnasiums as amateur would-be challengers pretended they had what it took to survive on the surface of the murderous Hecta 3.

  But from underneath the looming tides of ships, there was a tiny flash as something ‘jumped’ into Hecta space, seemingly toward the Challenge planet.

  Instantly, alarms went off across the system’s drone-satellites. The craft was pinged for identification and verification.

  It was a small craft in comparison to the many others already present. It was barely the size of a standard merchant ship and looked like some sort of fabulous sea creature rather than a craft at all.

  The thing had ridges of iridescent metal that swept back from its forward point, turning it into an elongated star. It did not respond to any hails, and instead, it started to slowly turn, getting faster and faster as it did so.

  It moved forward as it spun, moving continuously faster with the burn and pulse of plasma effervescing from its points.

  The satellites pinged the craft again and over broader bandwidths. It still did not respond as it started to blur and shoot forward, gaining in acceleration until it was a streak of light.

  The Hecta defense systems erupted into motion. The drone-satellites started to unfold their weapons pods, sensors flinging out to track the thing’s trajectory.

  But it was going too fast. It was spearing straight toward the Challenge planet. Straight toward the waves of viewing ships.

  Straight toward the Lucitania.

  The satellites deployed their missiles and fired lasers, but it was too late. The spear of light, flinging spiral arms of plasma behind it in ever-growing circles, achieved 98% of light speed at the same time that it hit the Lucitania.

  To the outsiders watching, and the many millions and billions over the next few hours who would watch the many recordings, it appeared to be almost a paradox at first. The ship did not look as though it had done anything in the heartbeat that it hit the cruiser.

  It vanished inside as if, at the last moment, the image had been altered.

  But then there was the visible ripple of metal spreading out across the body of the cruiser. A plume of plasma and light shot from the hole in the Lucitania’s side.

  And then the real destruction began. The entire affected side of the cruiser erupted into a bubble of light, and the cruiser rolled over on its side.

  It looked as though a mighty chunk had been torn from it by some sort of deep-space creature. It spilled shining fragments that were thankfully too small and too far away to recognize. But one thing was clear: many, many souls throughout the Reach of the Throne had just watched thousands of humans die.

  “THIS IS TERRIBLE NEWS! WE HAVE TO INTERRUPT THIS CHALLENGE BROADCAST FOR AN URGENT UPDATE!”

  Cread smiled grimly from his command chair.

  The Challenge feeds with the contestants were replaced with the same image of the Challenge announcer as he became the default primary broadcaster for the atrocity.

  “HERE, WE CAN SEE QUITE CLEARLY—AND YES, OUR THRONE ANALYSTS ARE ALREADY CONFIRMING IT…”

  On the screen, there was displayed a slow-motion image of the star-like, spinning craft as it flashed and blurred forward on its terrible mission.

  “THAT IS AN ILYTHIAN SHIP, WITHOUT DOUBT!” the broadcaster said in apparent horror. Cread watched the broadcaster’s reaction with interest. At first there was confusion, a kind of shocked puzzlement that such a thing could have happened here, now, in his lifetime, right in front of him…

  But then the commander-general saw the animal kick of reaction from the broadcaster, as his scared and shocked face twisted into an ugly mask.

  “AND THE THRONE WILL NOT ALLOW THIS ACT OF COWARDICE TO GO UNPUNISHED!”

  “There we go.” Commander-General Cread sighed deeply. He had done it. He had managed to start a war.

  “A THOUSAND YEARS FROM NOW, THOSE ILYTHIAN FREAKS WON’T EVEN HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO FEEL SHAME FOR WHAT THEY HAVE DONE—BECAUSE WE WILL WIPE THEIR ENTIRE SPECIES FROM THE FACE OF THE GALAXY! MARK MY WORDS!”

  21

  The Challenge Pit

  “Ten-point-two meters ahead, righthand side, two o’clock…” Moriarty whispered in Anders’s ear.

  The Challenge Pit was a large vertical shaft, lit by the glow of daylight from where it met the surface above. Standing around its inner edges were five tall, gray stone pillars a meter or so from the outer wall, with an open arena space in the middle. It was clear that this was meant as the final duel of the game. A place where you could duck and hide behind the pillars until you closed in with your opponent.

  Anders side-stepped into the room, keeping the nearest pillar in front of him. He couldn’t see Uskol yet, but he knew that he was in here.

  FZZT! No sooner had he turned his back to the stone than a bolt of burning purple light smashed against the stone.

  He’s got a stars-damned heavy blaster! Anders flinched. The pillar remained, but the near side was blackened and smoking.

  “Uskol Hecatia! I’m not here to kill you,” Anders called out, still with his knife raised.

  “Then you’re a fool,” the deep voice of the Red Judge returned, and another bolt of purple-white fire hit the pillar Anders was sheltering behind. Anders felt the reverberation against his back.

  “Hecatia, you need to listen to me. I might be your only chance of getting out of this alive.” Anders made a gamble. After what had happened to both him and Dalia, and the fact that someone had killed the Terevesin envoy—a murder that would be noted, even if the case was closed—the lieutenant was willing to wager that Uskol would wind up with an untimely end for his part in the deception.

&
nbsp; FZZZT! Another blast of purple fire hit the pillar, and this time, the entire thing wavered alarmingly in its footings.

  “I don’t think you understand the rules of the game,” Uskol shouted. “Now, you don’t sound like Lisa, who I was expecting to meet in here… And you’re certainly not Venark or Master Jid. So who are you, little man? Where did you train? Do you think you got what it takes to defeat me, a champion?”

  This was ring-side banter, Anders knew. Uskol was trying to pump himself up and scare his opponent. All a part of the show. The lieutenant used the speech to dive for the next pillar.

  FZZZT! This time, the blast of fire hit the wall between them, and Anders could feel the heat wash over his suit.

  “I’m Lieutenant Anders Corsigon, of the Hecta MPB,” he called out. “And I am here to place you under arrest…”

  FZZT! Another blast, this time concentrating at the base of the pillar Anders was hiding behind. He heard the heavy clump of feet, getting closer.

  “A policeman? You’re a long way from home, little man,” he heard a growl.

  “I know about Seaview Apartments. I know about the clone,” Anders called.

  “Six-point-four meters on your four o’clock, sir,” Moriarty whispered.

  Anders readied his knife. He wondered if he could get a strike on Uskol’s arm before he managed to fire. Probably not. He would have to get closer somehow, and all without being burnt to a crisp.

  There was a pause from the other side of the room. Clearly, Hecatia had not been expecting that.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, policeman. I think the Challenge has broken your tiny mind, just like your body.” That was, of course, followed by another blast of laser flame.

  “Sir! The pillar’s integrity is approximately at sixty percent of original.” Moriarty said.

  Great. Even if I don’t get a hole burnt through me, then this lug was going to drop a great big obelisk on my head!

  “I can help you out, Hecatia. Tell me who you’re working for, that’s all I want. One name,” Anders said.

  FZZT! Another blast, and the pillar suddenly shifted downward, forcing Anders to crouch.

  “Sir! Six-five-four meters!” Moriarty said at the same time as he heard the pound of running feet. Anders moved, flipping around the edge of the pillar as he saw the shadow of the Red Judge appear around the outer circle, and the flash of purple and white fire—

  Drekk! Anders spun and jumped across the central arena as plasma fire engulfed the pillar. It shook and collapsed against the outer wall, breaking into two large pieces as it did so.

  He skidded behind the opposite pillar and turned.

  “Unfortunately, you are now back to ten meters and more,” Moriarty said.

  “It was either that or turn into fricassee,” Anders grumbled. “A name, Hecatia!” Anders shouted again.

  The reply that he got was another blast of plasma fire. The pillar he was hiding behind shook but remained standing. Anders realized that all this guy had to do was to topple each and every pillar, and then it would all be over.

  He tried a different tact. “I thought you Red Judges were supposed to be the best fighters ever?” Anders called out.

  FZZT! The pillar shook.

  “You’re so good that you need a blaster to take out your opponents? Where did they train you, Hecatia, coward school?

  FZT! FZZT! FZZZ! This time, the barrage was like thunder. Anders heard a crack as chips flew from the pillar and he had to flee to the next one, only for the plasma fire to follow him. He made it past one, two, and then pulled himself into a stop before he would round the circle and run straight into Uskol’s line of fire.

  Another blast hit ahead of him, where he would have been running to. It was followed by a guttural chuckle.

  “We are the best fighters, but we’re also not stupid. That’s what makes us the best fighters,” Uskol snarled. There was one sustained burst of fire ahead of him, and then one behind him.

  “Eight meters and closing. Due south at your six o’clock,” Moriarty said as the plasma plumes continued on either side of the pillar he was behind.

  I’m trapped. He’s not bothering to flush me out, he’ll just corner me and finish me that way.

  Anders took three deep breathes, and then prepared to make a jump for the next pillar.

  Just as the sky caved in.

  “Moriarty! Update,” Anders shouted as the pillar he’d been sheltering behind suddenly lurched against the inner wall when the floor shook.

  At least it wasn’t Uskol, that much was clear as the Red Judge had growled in frustration and stopped firing.

  “Sir, I’m picking up multiple energy readings and seismic bursts,” Moriarty informed him. “Random scatter pattern. If I was to make a strategic assessment, I would say that it’s a planetary bombardment!”

  “Asteroid storm?” Anders asked. The pillar had wedged itself into a lean-to, and Anders was sheltering underneath it as the entire Challenge Pit shook again. Clouds of rock chips and earth fell from above.

  “Impossible to say, sir,” Moriarty said.

  But didn’t the Challenge satellites track asteroid showers and head them off? Anders thought in alarm

  “Hrargh!” There was another crash and a grunt of pain. Hecatia must have been hit!

  “Uskol!” Anders shouted. “We have to get out of here.” Anders clambered from underneath the pillar to see that the room was in almost complete disarray. None of the pillars were still in the places where they should have been. They had toppled or cracked as they had fallen, forming a complicated world of stone joists and buttresses.

  And still the ground was shaking.

  “Sir, watch out!” Moriarty said.

  Suddenly, there was a shape leaping through the air toward him, one leading with a knee.

  Anders didn’t have time to do anything but block as the fearsome Red Guard hit him, grinding him into the wall. “Urgh!”

  It was followed by a powerful cuff to the side of the head, making Anders see stars.

  Don’t bend over! He fought the instinct to duck down into himself as every mammal did from attack. Instead, he swung with his knife, making contact with something solid. And fleshy.

  A defiant shout of rage and pain as the Red Judge leapt back. There was a line of blood falling from his forearm.

  “Uskol, all I need is a name…” Anders tried one last time to reason with the man. He had lost the heavy blaster in the sudden bombardment. And now the Red Judge only had his fists, and Anders had a knife.

  “Damn you, policeman!” Uskol jumped up to grab the lip of one of the pillars and haul himself upward. The Challenge Pit was shaking and there was more dirt and rocks tumbling from above, hitting Anders’s shoulders and forming a blanket of destruction on the floor.

  If he didn’t get out of there, he knew the whole place would cave in on him.

  “Damnation!” Anders jumped up to grab the edge of one of the broken pillars and spider-climb up—

  Just as one of Uskol’s boots smacked him in the chest, flinging him back down again.

  “Sir!” Moriarty was saying as Anders smacked against the stone. He tasted blood in his mouth. For a terrifying moment, Anders thought that he might have broken his back, but he was still conscious as he opened his eyes.

  The shaft of light above was now occluded with dark plumes of…smoke? And it contracted and wavered as the ground shook.

  “You have to get up, sir! You have to move!” Moriarty was telling him urgently.

  Anders growled, reaching forward as his back screamed in agony.

  Fortunately, he hadn’t broken it. Nothing crunched or clicked. He just dreaded what he would see if he ever survived this day and found a mirror.

  Uskol was already halfway up the shaft, using the pillars like an assault course as he climbed. Sliding his blade back into his utility belt, Anders followed suit.

  Whumpf!

  Something else hit the ground, and it couldn’t have
been far away as the shaft shook and the pillar that Anders was climbing suddenly started to shift lower.

  Anders had to jump. He sprang to the next one with arms outstretched, grabbing a hold of its edge—

  —but his fingers were already torn and broken from their climb up the Tabletop Ridge, and Anders slid to the edge before his grip finally held. His side and back were screaming in excruciating pain as he heaved himself upward—

  —and reached the flattened edge of the topmost face. The roaring sound was all around him now, and he could barely maintain his balance as the ground kept vibrating.

  “A little further, sir. Nine o’clock,” Moriarty told him, and Anders turned to clamber onto the next higher support. But Uskol wasn’t quite so lucky. His pillar shook and started twisting on its axis.

  The Red Judge wasn’t that far from the top, however. He jumped for the edge, and Anders froze in a kind of awe as he saw the man’s hands grab the lip of rock and dirt…

  And then come sliding back as the grass and soft earth gave way underneath his hands. The Red Judge fell backward through the middle of the shaft.

  No. Anders wasn’t about to let this man get away or take the easy route of death out. Anders’s version of the law wasn’t so lenient. The lieutenant threw himself forward, one hand reaching out and snatching the Red Judge’s arm just as he plummeted past him.

  “Ach!” Anders’s shoulder almost popped out of its socket as he hugged the pillar he was on and held onto Uskol’s wrist for dear life.

  But his grip was slipping.

  “I can’t hold you for long,” Anders hissed. “You have to climb!”

  With a grunt and a growl, Hecatia reached up with one free hand, reaching for the lip of stone.

  But then suddenly, he wasn’t. He was instead grabbing the handle of Anders’s knife and pulling it from his chest as Anders held onto him. In terrible slow motion, Anders saw the knife flash inches from his face and start to return toward him—