Read Online Alien Chronicles 2 - The Crimson Claw by Deborah Chester - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Deborah Chester
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the entrance gate and the long road they had flown along in the transport yesterday. Ampris looked that way, considering how hard it might be to get past that gate.
A floating vidcam hovered just on the other side of it, flashing at her. Ampris backed her ears. “Is that a news-cam?” she asked.
Ruar didn’t even bother to look. “Maybe,” he said, his voice sour and impatient. The light was growing rosy and clearer, and ahead she could see streaks of muted gold beginning to spread across the dusky sky. “Maybe news. Maybe spy. Maybe thief, wanting to steal high-priced gladiator. Always someone there. Always trying to get past shields.”
He glanced up at her and curled back his lip. His rheumy old eyes held a momentary glimmer of amusement. “Nothing can record past your sensor web. Waste of spy money, trying to see what goes on in here. No news on the Blues till they win. Hah!”
They went through another gate, and Ampris saw a huge compound stretching out before her. Several utilitarian, rectangular buildings were on the left. According to Ruar, they contained the gyms, indoor arena, and pool. To the right, she saw a spacious open-air arena, ringed with slat-rail fencing of indigenous wood. Instead of sand, the ground was covered with some kind of wood shavings, fragrant and soft, packed down slightly underfoot by the cold dew sparkling on everything.
Halehl stood waiting at the center of this arena, clad in a hooded web sensor suit of his own that fit him like a second skin and glimmered wetly with every movement. A deep, square box hovered off the ground beside him.
On the opposite side of the ring, a group of Aarouns clustered near the fence. Her heart sinking with dismay, Ampris glanced at them and wished she didn’t have her new teammates for an audience. She was nervous enough, and anxious to do well. She knew that she must learn to fight in their style, not her own. She must work hard to integrate herself into the team. None of them looked as young as she. They had that scarred, bored, well-seasoned slouch to their muscular bodies, and she felt increasingly self-conscious.
Then she noticed that each of them was tethered to the fence by a leash similar to hers. Somehow, that failed to make her feel better. Were they tied like animals to keep them from attacking her as Ylea had done yesterday? Or was it a game of humiliation, designed to shame them and remind them of their place? Either way, the sight of these intelligent adults standing tied up like beasts of burden depressed her.
She did not let herself look at them again, not even when the criticism and jeers started.
“Look at her!”
“Let her walk the walk. Prance, golden cub. Strut your stuff!”
“Did they buy her for her looks or for her muscle?”
“Muscle?” Ylea’s voice rose above the rest. “She puny, a weakling.”
“She walks like her arms and legs have been tied together. Wait till she gets to Ceunth Siltr and hits that gravity.”
“She’s hopeless. There isn’t enough time.”
“Pretty, though.”
“You think any female in fur is pretty.”
“Want to wager there’re stripes under that sensor suit?”
“You’re on!”
“She won’t fight,” Ylea said caustically. “She’s a freezer. She’ll freeze in the ring. I’ll bet on it.”
“What odds?”
A sharp command from Halehl put an end to the talk. Handlers appeared, mostly Myals like Ruar, who came to untie the Aarouns and lead them away. Ampris watched them stride into the distance, realizing that they’d already had their workout. She could smell the musky odors of sweat lingering in their wake. They walked away as though they owned the world, and she found herself admiring their pride and confidence. All Aarouns should carry themselves that way, she thought, even when led by leashes, with slavery rings in their ears.
With the other Aarouns gone, tension vanished from Ruar’s shoulders. He slouched a bit and relaxed his grip on Ampris’s
A floating vidcam hovered just on the other side of it, flashing at her. Ampris backed her ears. “Is that a news-cam?” she asked.
Ruar didn’t even bother to look. “Maybe,” he said, his voice sour and impatient. The light was growing rosy and clearer, and ahead she could see streaks of muted gold beginning to spread across the dusky sky. “Maybe news. Maybe spy. Maybe thief, wanting to steal high-priced gladiator. Always someone there. Always trying to get past shields.”
He glanced up at her and curled back his lip. His rheumy old eyes held a momentary glimmer of amusement. “Nothing can record past your sensor web. Waste of spy money, trying to see what goes on in here. No news on the Blues till they win. Hah!”
They went through another gate, and Ampris saw a huge compound stretching out before her. Several utilitarian, rectangular buildings were on the left. According to Ruar, they contained the gyms, indoor arena, and pool. To the right, she saw a spacious open-air arena, ringed with slat-rail fencing of indigenous wood. Instead of sand, the ground was covered with some kind of wood shavings, fragrant and soft, packed down slightly underfoot by the cold dew sparkling on everything.
Halehl stood waiting at the center of this arena, clad in a hooded web sensor suit of his own that fit him like a second skin and glimmered wetly with every movement. A deep, square box hovered off the ground beside him.
On the opposite side of the ring, a group of Aarouns clustered near the fence. Her heart sinking with dismay, Ampris glanced at them and wished she didn’t have her new teammates for an audience. She was nervous enough, and anxious to do well. She knew that she must learn to fight in their style, not her own. She must work hard to integrate herself into the team. None of them looked as young as she. They had that scarred, bored, well-seasoned slouch to their muscular bodies, and she felt increasingly self-conscious.
Then she noticed that each of them was tethered to the fence by a leash similar to hers. Somehow, that failed to make her feel better. Were they tied like animals to keep them from attacking her as Ylea had done yesterday? Or was it a game of humiliation, designed to shame them and remind them of their place? Either way, the sight of these intelligent adults standing tied up like beasts of burden depressed her.
She did not let herself look at them again, not even when the criticism and jeers started.
“Look at her!”
“Let her walk the walk. Prance, golden cub. Strut your stuff!”
“Did they buy her for her looks or for her muscle?”
“Muscle?” Ylea’s voice rose above the rest. “She puny, a weakling.”
“She walks like her arms and legs have been tied together. Wait till she gets to Ceunth Siltr and hits that gravity.”
“She’s hopeless. There isn’t enough time.”
“Pretty, though.”
“You think any female in fur is pretty.”
“Want to wager there’re stripes under that sensor suit?”
“You’re on!”
“She won’t fight,” Ylea said caustically. “She’s a freezer. She’ll freeze in the ring. I’ll bet on it.”
“What odds?”
A sharp command from Halehl put an end to the talk. Handlers appeared, mostly Myals like Ruar, who came to untie the Aarouns and lead them away. Ampris watched them stride into the distance, realizing that they’d already had their workout. She could smell the musky odors of sweat lingering in their wake. They walked away as though they owned the world, and she found herself admiring their pride and confidence. All Aarouns should carry themselves that way, she thought, even when led by leashes, with slavery rings in their ears.
With the other Aarouns gone, tension vanished from Ruar’s shoulders. He slouched a bit and relaxed his grip on Ampris’s
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