render.
The moment I stepped out of the chamber, the color of the floor and walls changed. The glowing nimbus that surrounded my feet went from red to green.
“Time!” boomed a voice. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. The walls were broadcasting this one simple word. “Time!”
“Drop your weapon, Blake,” the voice called from the passageway. “This round is over.”
I looked around and spotted the marine. He was standing over Dr. Chang’s slumped body. Gwen lay there too, unmoving.
“Samson?” I asked in disbelief. “I just killed you last night!”
“Drop your weapon, Blake!” he repeated. Then he dropped his, and it clattered on the deck. “Drop it, or you’ll forfeit the win.”
“What win?”
“The first heat is over. You made the cut. Only five aboard did.”
I suspected a trap, but I was confused. I calculated he was too far away to charge me.
“Why do you give a shit whether I win or not?” I asked.
He grinned, and it was then I noticed he wasn’t one hundred percent healthy. He moved with pain. Could his body still be recovering from the bullets I’d pumped into him a few hours ago?
“I want you to make it to the next round,” he said, “so I can beat you down personally. Nothing else matters to me right now. I missed my chance this time because you were so chicken-shit you evaded the ship until the last minute.”
Seeing he’d dropped his club, I warily set mine on the floor as well. But I kept my eyes on him every second.
He relaxed fractionally, leaning back against the nearest wall. “That’s better. I’m still hurting from your slugs. You hammered me up pretty good—the bullets almost made it through my vest.”
“I should have shot you in the face,” I told him.
He gave me a rumbling chuckle and made a kissing face at me as he leaned against the wall.
Following his example, I leaned up against a wall too.
“We’re not in good shape for more of this,” I said.
“Won’t matter,” he said. “We’ll be patched up before next time.”
Shaking my head, I mustered a smile. “I got Dalton.”
He guffawed. “That little shit deserved it.”
Nonchalantly, I moved to check out Dr. Chang. He looked dead to me, but it was hard to be sure. Dalton and Samson had looked dead, too.
Samson coughed, and that distraction was the moment I was looking for. I grabbed up Dr. Chang’s club and swung it two-handed for the marine’s face. This time, body armor or no, he was going down hard.
But my sneak-attack never landed. I did get the pleasure of seeing surprise register on Samson’s features, but that was all.
My whole body filled with numbing pain from the electrical shock I’d just received. I’d been tased twice before in my life, and this sensation reminded me of that.
Slumping to the floor, I was helpless at Samson’s feet. I could still hear and see, but I couldn’t move. I fully expected him to rain blows down upon my skull.
But he didn’t.
Another set of footsteps approached.
“That was a clear foul,” a familiar voice said.
“Yeah, but he missed the rules session,” Samson said. “Don’t kick him out for this.”
“The rules are the rules. We can’t be soft.”
“I know, but he didn’t know what would happen.”
“You told him not to attack.”
“He probably thought it was a trick,” Samson insisted. “I was his enemy. He had no reason to accept my authority. He struck first, just as I would have.”
“That’s true… hmm,” the man said. “All right. I’ll amend the logs. He’s moving forward to the next round with you. Hope you’re happy.”
“Thank you, Admiral Shaw, thank you!” Samson said.
I heard the sound of heavy boots striking the metallic floor as they walked away.
Then Samson got down on his hands and knees. He peered into my staring eyes, and he grinned.
“You made it, buddy,” he said sarcastically. “We’re going to be best friends now!”
He laughed and jeered into my frozen face.
But I
The moment I stepped out of the chamber, the color of the floor and walls changed. The glowing nimbus that surrounded my feet went from red to green.
“Time!” boomed a voice. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. The walls were broadcasting this one simple word. “Time!”
“Drop your weapon, Blake,” the voice called from the passageway. “This round is over.”
I looked around and spotted the marine. He was standing over Dr. Chang’s slumped body. Gwen lay there too, unmoving.
“Samson?” I asked in disbelief. “I just killed you last night!”
“Drop your weapon, Blake!” he repeated. Then he dropped his, and it clattered on the deck. “Drop it, or you’ll forfeit the win.”
“What win?”
“The first heat is over. You made the cut. Only five aboard did.”
I suspected a trap, but I was confused. I calculated he was too far away to charge me.
“Why do you give a shit whether I win or not?” I asked.
He grinned, and it was then I noticed he wasn’t one hundred percent healthy. He moved with pain. Could his body still be recovering from the bullets I’d pumped into him a few hours ago?
“I want you to make it to the next round,” he said, “so I can beat you down personally. Nothing else matters to me right now. I missed my chance this time because you were so chicken-shit you evaded the ship until the last minute.”
Seeing he’d dropped his club, I warily set mine on the floor as well. But I kept my eyes on him every second.
He relaxed fractionally, leaning back against the nearest wall. “That’s better. I’m still hurting from your slugs. You hammered me up pretty good—the bullets almost made it through my vest.”
“I should have shot you in the face,” I told him.
He gave me a rumbling chuckle and made a kissing face at me as he leaned against the wall.
Following his example, I leaned up against a wall too.
“We’re not in good shape for more of this,” I said.
“Won’t matter,” he said. “We’ll be patched up before next time.”
Shaking my head, I mustered a smile. “I got Dalton.”
He guffawed. “That little shit deserved it.”
Nonchalantly, I moved to check out Dr. Chang. He looked dead to me, but it was hard to be sure. Dalton and Samson had looked dead, too.
Samson coughed, and that distraction was the moment I was looking for. I grabbed up Dr. Chang’s club and swung it two-handed for the marine’s face. This time, body armor or no, he was going down hard.
But my sneak-attack never landed. I did get the pleasure of seeing surprise register on Samson’s features, but that was all.
My whole body filled with numbing pain from the electrical shock I’d just received. I’d been tased twice before in my life, and this sensation reminded me of that.
Slumping to the floor, I was helpless at Samson’s feet. I could still hear and see, but I couldn’t move. I fully expected him to rain blows down upon my skull.
But he didn’t.
Another set of footsteps approached.
“That was a clear foul,” a familiar voice said.
“Yeah, but he missed the rules session,” Samson said. “Don’t kick him out for this.”
“The rules are the rules. We can’t be soft.”
“I know, but he didn’t know what would happen.”
“You told him not to attack.”
“He probably thought it was a trick,” Samson insisted. “I was his enemy. He had no reason to accept my authority. He struck first, just as I would have.”
“That’s true… hmm,” the man said. “All right. I’ll amend the logs. He’s moving forward to the next round with you. Hope you’re happy.”
“Thank you, Admiral Shaw, thank you!” Samson said.
I heard the sound of heavy boots striking the metallic floor as they walked away.
Then Samson got down on his hands and knees. He peered into my staring eyes, and he grinned.
“You made it, buddy,” he said sarcastically. “We’re going to be best friends now!”
He laughed and jeered into my frozen face.
But I
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