Commonality Games (The Gladiator Cycle Book 1)

by Mark Rounds

  Taol thought for a moment and realized that what Bernard was saying made sense in his eyes. With population control strictly enforced on earth, he could never have another child, no matter what happened. But if he paid off this hustler, any chance Taol might have in the games would be gone. Having that kind of reputation, being called a "mommy's boy" and other epitaphs would end any career in the arena and seriously affect his ability to sell arms. He would be just another drone, on the dole, looking for amusement. He couldn’t stomach that.

  "Dad, look,” said Taol earnestly. “I'll be of no use to you in the family business if you pay him off. I wouldn't be able to sell toothpicks through this office and you know it. Add to that, the fact that your own business dealings would suffer too."

  Bernard’s eyes showed that this thought had already crossed his mind. His eyes clouded.

  "Money has little meaning,” said Bernard quietly, “if you have no one to share it with. Still, I can see you mean to do this thing. But I'll not be a party to it. I'll give you the twelve kilo credits you need to pay Monty off and that's all!"

  The boys could see in his eyes that Bernard meant it. Still, twelve kilo credits is nothing to sneeze at. Bernard continued to glare at them for what seemed like an eternity. Jarl and Harm were sweating buckets, but they didn't give in either.

  Bernard finally looked away, out his window to the city below before he spoke.

  “Son, you know I am against this," he said in a subdued voice. "I'll not hazard any company money on this upcoming disaster. Never the less, I'll give you some good advice. Hire some real, professional mercenaries to help you get off the ground. You and your schoolboy friends could be dead before you know it. Here is the name of my old Sergeant Major. He is retired, but he'll be a good source of information on who is worthy of your money. Now get out of my sight!"

  He scrawled the name on a piece of paper and left it on his desk. After a moment’s hesitation, Taol gathered it up and proceeded to leave. After a moment of stunned silence, Jarl and Harm followed him out. They were a rather subdued group in the tube capsule on the way home. Like it or not, they were in the big time, whether they wanted to be or not.

  #

  As soon as the boys stepped into their apartment Jarl exclaimed, "We're in it up to our ears. And Taol's dad is mad enough to eat us alive!"

  "You don't know him the way I do," replied Taol with more confidence than he felt. "He did everything but give us permission. We have limited start-up funds and a name to start with. I think he sees this as my attempt to prove myself. I only hope we don't get blown to pieces in the process."

  After a hasty breakfast the ex-cadets sat down and began to plan. Bernard, true to his word, had transferred twelve kilo credits to Taol’s account. With some trepidations, they registered with the Gaming Commission and chartered a mercenary company. Jarl, Harm, and Taol kept only enough money in their personal accounts to pay for this month's rent and enough food to survive on. They figured that if they lived through the month, they could buy groceries off a loser’s prize. The rest of their funds went into the new company's account. The account's balance after fees was less than fourteen kilo credits. They were going to need a lot more just to get into orbit, let alone hire troops and equip them.

  "There might be a way to raise a little more," said Harm after some thought.

  "Since we haven't picked turf yet, no one has negotiated a holo contract. If we trade our share of the gross for money up front we could come up with quite a few credits. If we do all the negotiating before the Krasni hear of it, we can act like we didn't know about royalties. They will probably just chalk it up to inexperience and no one will be the wiser."

  "No one will buy holo rights to a grudge match," said Jarl dejectedly.

  "Don't be too sure," replied Taol. "Oh, the Alamein won't buy in for any kind of rights, but some of the smaller establishments might. Besides there is always the secondary market to consider, you know, holocast and recorded media. Give it a try Harm.”

  “The other big expense will be troopers. We can't hire anything like enough professionals to handle this. Jarl, why don't you see how many of our old classmates are still on Earth and looking for work? We might get lucky!"

  "That's a joke if ever I heard one," said Jarl sarcastically. "You both know that not one in a hundred got off Earth. Why, I bet we could have our pick!"

  "Don't be choosy," said Taol cautiously. "This is going to be more involved than we can imagine. See if any of them have some funds to invest. Maybe we can sell stock or something"

  As soon as they left Taol wasn't feeling half bad. They had recruiting underway and possible financing in the works. The boys just might just live to see their twenty second birthday. Together, Taol and Harm began to make some inquiries into the whereabouts of Sergeant Major Jefferson. This wasn't too difficult, a two meter tall, one hundred forty kilo, black senior noncom with a reputation for training the best mercenaries on the planet cuts a wide swathe. They found out he wasn't exactly retired. He had been severely injured in a game a couple years ago and was still on the mend. Taol punched in his number and was able to speak with him on the vidcomm.

  "Sar Major,” said Taol, “this is Taol Ubner, Bernard's son, I was wondering if you had a few minutes to spare so we could meet, I have something to discuss with you."

  "Taol, what have you gone and done now?" he said as he laughed. "Your Dad called me about an hour ago and told me you had been hustled by old Monty and actually wanted to take him! Of course, we can talk. Meet me in two hours at my home. This should be interesting."

  With that he rang off. Same old Jeffy, he acted as if he still thought Taol was twelve years old. It didn't even occur to him that perhaps the business of building a mercenary company from scratch might tax Taol’s schedule and he might not be available in two hours.

  Taol swallowed his hubris as he really didn't have anything going; maybe Jeffy understood the situation better than Taol thought. So, he appeared promptly at the appointed time. Taol pressed the call plate and barely had time to release it when the door opened.

  "Come in boy, come on in," said a familiar voice from the back of the suite.

  Taol was in no way prepared for what he saw. Above the waist it was the same old Jeffy, massively muscled, shaved head, and huge grin. Below the waist there was just a mass of tubes and electronic components grafted onto a chair. Taol’s face, in spite of his best effort control his reaction, must have betrayed the shock.

  "Sit," said Jeffy as the grin evaporated. It was clearly not a request, Taol sat. "It's obvious no one told you what happened. A couple of years ago, our mutual friend, Monty, was involved in a little class A match with me and several of your dad's old partners. Right at the start of the battle, I was caught by a mortar burst. The action lasted a couple of hours, so when camera coverage ceased and the Regens were allowed on the field, this was all they could save. There was nerve deterioration in the lower spine.

  “Still, I do all right,” said Jeffy darkly, “what with consulting contracts and commissions from your dad."

  There was a cold edge to his voice that plainly said everything was not all right, but he was not going to volunteer any more.

  Not knowing what else to do, Taol launched into the story of last night’s fiasco. Soon, Jeffy's old grin was back, and he thought the whole thing hugely funny.

  "You know," he said, beginning to chuckle. "Your dad got caught the same way, many years ago. We were both surplussed at the same time from the Naval Academy, the way you were. The bar and the hustler were different, but the results were the same. This kind of thing is what started your father in the games."

  The chuckle moved to a full belly laugh.

  "He made me swear I wouldn't let this out," said Jeffy. The laughter was gone, but there was still some amusement in his eyes. "But when you and I met today, I decided I best come clean."

  "I'm glad I could be so entertaining," Taol said sarcastically, but inside, he was smiling.


  “No wonder,” thought Taol, “dad didn't blow up like I thought he would. This was really priceless in an ironic sort of way.”

  "Anyway, down to business," Jeffy said with a bit of a grin still creasing his face. "So, you want to take Monty? I hope you realize the risks involved here. The odds are you will probably lose a good friend or two even if we win. And there is considerable personal risk, look at this chair and think about it."

  There was no grin now. Jeffy wanted to make sure Taol meant it. Jeffy’s condition was certainly sobering.

  “But what else is there for me?” thought Taol. “The skills I had picked up as a Planetary Survey cadet are really not much good for anything else.”

  “Jeffy,” said Taol after a very long pause, “There isn’t anything else for me. Retraining would be a joke, since it takes a life time to master any new skill. With the competition so high, only those at the top of their classes got a shot at a regular career. If you didn't start young, you didn't get the chance.

  "I have thought about it. If I back out now I'll have nothing, I won't even be able to sell weapons in dad's firm. Besides, if he did this to you, I want a piece of him!"

  This brought a smile to Jeffy's face. It wasn't the jovial grin Taol remembered, but rather a wry, knowing, half smile that has little to do with amusement.

  "All right then, we have work to do," he said. "Have you picked turf yet?"

  "No,” said Taol as he ruminated, “but I was thinking about Burma in 1944"

  "Not bad,” said Jeffy nodding, “but do you really want to be in the jungle with Krasni? They may not know about guerilla warfare, but they do know ambush. That means hand to hand combat."

  Visions of Yosep danced in Taol’s head. Fighting him one on one was a nightmare. Jeffy was right, Burma was out.

  "What did you have in mind then?" said Taol.

  "Well, what about the Break Out and Pursuit in the French woodlands in 1944?” said Jeffy. “The forest would reduce the Krasni's advantage at long range and we could rule out a large formation of armor if we picked a small arena. And here's a thought, why don't you select German equipment?"

  "Why German?" asked Taol.

  "Because the Krasni would then be forced to use American weapons,” said Jeffy. “They are very skilled with Russian weapons and they have, on several occasions, used German weapons but I can't recall any occasion where they used American stuff."

  "I get it!” said Taol enthusiastically. “Then they will be as unfamiliar with their weapons as we are with ours."

  "Hold on Taol,” cautioned Jeffy. “While the weapons may be unfamiliar, the purpose won't be. These guys are pros. If you forget it, you will be dead. This ploy may give us a split second or two when it really counts. That's all. Now who is your second?"

  "Gosh, I don't have one yet,” said Taol who was now embarrassed. That was usually one of the first things one did in a situation like this. “I figured Harm or Jarl could do it."

  Jeffy just sat back and smiled and then said. "I'll be your second. That is, if you want my help."

  This took Taol totally by surprise. A second not only made the arrangements, he went into battle at the side of the contestant and brought back the pieces if he didn't return under his power. How was Jeffy going to able to fulfill his role in that chair?

  After an uncomfortably long silence Taol began to stutter, "Jeffy, I mean Sar Major, it would be great if you could but, I mean, um?"

  "Stow it, young man,” said Jeffy gruffly. “This chair fits perfectly into a modified German Pzk 222 armored car. The Gaming Commission won't bat an eye since I'll still require a gun crew. What do you say? I'll even buy my own vehicle."

  There was a pleading in his voice that Taol couldn't ignore. Of course, an extra armored car didn't hurt either.

  "Sure Sar Major,” said Taol, “I'd be a fool to turn down your help! Dad said on many occasions that it was you and not he who won many of his battles. I just wasn't sure you were up to it."

  "Oh, I'm up to it all right,” said Jeffy ferally. “Just give me a chance! Besides, a chance to give Monty some of his own is more than enough to put some fire in my belly!"

  "Great! Dad wasn't wrong when he told me to look you up,” said Taol with relief. “What's our next step?"

  "Get a staff together and meet me here tomorrow at 0900,” said Jeffy as he started jotting down notes in his tablet. “There is no sense going over things twice and we don’t have much time to waste."

  There were some other details the two covered, but the meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the day passed quickly. Taol spent some time helping Jarl track down some of their classmates, but Jarl was right. The bulk of the class was right here on earth. They were willing to do something, anything, even if it was risking their lives in a grudge match. Jarl, Harm, and Taol decided to have an organizational meeting for these recruits at the end of the week. This would give Jeffy a chance to get together a training plan. They had no idea just how busy they were going to be in the next three days!

  Chapter IV

  At 0900 the next day, the boys were at Jeffy's door. Taol had briefed them as to what to expect so the sight of Jeffy's chair did not shock them as much as it had Taol in their first meeting.

  "Come in gentlemen and have a seat," said Jeffy in very official tones. "As you may, or may not know, I am Sergeant Major Jefferson. You may refer to me as Sergeant Jefferson or Sar Major. Colonel Ubner here has informed me that you have accepted a grudge match with Warlord Montgomery and formed a mercenary company to finance it. This is the first organizational meeting of that firm."

  The title of colonel was not lost on Taol. This is the title granted to the leader of any mercenary company no matter how large or small. Referring to even a twenty-one-year-old ex-cadet by that title meant that he considered this real, and that he, Taol, was in charge.

  "Uh, mm, well," said Taol, stumbling over the words, "Let’s hear some progress reports. Jarl how is the recruiting coming along?"

  "Taol! You damn well know how ..."

  "Stow it boy," said Jeffy at a volume that didn’t quite rattle the windows. "You will treat Colonel Ubner with the respect due his rank. If he asked you to report on the recruiting three times, once backward, once forward, and once in Sanskrit you will do it. He would have a good reason. Now continue."

  "Well, 'Colonel,’” said Jarl slightly sarcastically, “most of our class is still earth side. I have gathered seventy-seven positive replies from cadets who will show up at our meeting on Friday. When the word of mouth gets around there will likely be close to a hundred."

  "Have these students any training?" asked Jeffy choosing to ignore the tone of Jarl’s reply.

  "They have all had basic defense training for survey cadets," replied Jarl more professionally. "In addition, some of them have had advanced security training and there are even a few blaster techs from the mining specialties."

  "Have they trained with anything other than blasters and plasma weapons?"

  "No, Sar Major" said Jarl.

  "They will be of some use, Colonel,” said Jeffy after he paused for a moment. “However, I'd like to hire some good noncoms to stiffen the force, if the budget will allow. By the way, how much capital do we have to work with?"

  “Harm has been handling that,” said Taol, “Harm, do you have anything for us?”

  "Well," said Harm with a bit of a stammer. "After some negotiation, I was able to sell the live rights of our little contest to the El Alamein."

  "How did you manage that?" said Taol with a stunned look on his face.

  "It wasn't too hard," said Harm who was now smiling a bit. "There were only about two hundred people watching us harass the Krasni. The manager thought, with some assistance from yours truly, that it might be a good draw. They are going to have a special viewing room and charge a cover for the event. We will get forty-five kilo credits up front, plus fifteen percent of the gate after expenses are met. I have arranged to get a loan using our percenta
ge of the gate as collateral. That contributed another twelve kilo credits to the pot.

  “I also peddled the holocast rights to an all-night holostation for late night webcast. Finally, I am in the process of negotiating a recording contract with advance. I'll know more on that once we let them know the turf. So right now, our account stands at one hundred and forty-two kilo credits. I estimate the recording contract will net us an additional fifteen to twenty kilo credit advance with a possible royalty stream to be tapped as collateral for another loan, if we need it."

  There was a stunned silence. Taol had thought that they would be lucky to get away with half that. And all from quiet little Harm!

  "Um, young man,” said Jeffy quietly, “Ah, where did you learn how to do that?"

  "Oh, I've always had a knack for business," said Harm. "I have watched Dad deal with his clients. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

  "Your name is Harm, you say?" mused Jeffy. "With the Colonel's permission, I think we have just found our Business Agent. Tell me Harm, do you think you could handle our logistics with the same kind of efficiency?"

  "I'll try, Sar Major," said Harm seriously.

  "If this is any sample,” said Jeffy, “you’ll do just fine."

  "I have an addition to make myself," said Jeffy. "After speaking to several of my contacts in the business, the Gaming Commission has authorized a class C contract with a three hundred kilo credit winner's prize and ten kilo credit loser’s prize.

  “I have also taken the liberty of negotiating for turf, subject to the Colonel's approval of course. We will use the old GE habitat."

  "What?" said Jarl incredulously. "That structure is over two hundred years old. And it rotates to simulate gravity rather than using grav plates. It will throw ballistics all to blazes!"

  "Exactly!" said Jeffy ferally. "The Krasni have more training and experience with these period weapons than we could ever hope to match. The rotation of the habitat will make any shot over a couple hundred meters chancy at best without sighting computers. That development didn't come until after the 1990's."