The Hunter on Arena (29 page)

The blue aliens then advanced on the hard ones and the Scandis beyond, rippling their way over rows of stone seats and the
bodies of the dead. Occasionally, one of them was struck by lightning. Their bodies, if that was what they could be called,
seemed to absorb the charge, glowing briefly, bathed in a warm light that seemed to
caress them; certainly they were not harmed. The guards, the robots, and the Scandis were not so lucky. The lightning was
as fatal to them as it had been to Batta Flor, but it was little comfort watching them contort in the agonies of death.

The small group stood huddled at the base of the arena and conferred hurriedly, trying to decide what to do. Septua was in
favor of heading off through the arches and finding a transmission station while the “blue guys” and their various enemies
occupied each others’ attention. Allo wanted to free the prisoners and Randi agreed. Keri was downcast and did not speak;
Braldt did not want to leave her. He urged Allo and Randi toward the cells and took a threatening step toward the dwarf who
squealed in fear and turned and ran after Allo, calling for him to wait.

Braldt settled Keri on a stone in the shelter of an arch, out of the driving rain, and chafed her hands between his own. Beast
crawled between her feet and whined, pawing at her knees for attention. Braldt examined the pup quickly and saw that none
of his injuries were critical; he would heal with time, although certainly his ear would never stand erect again.

At length, Keri seemed to bring herself under control and her tears diminished; she gave Braldt a tremulous smile and hiccuped.
Braldt helped her to her feet, knowing a decision must be made. Even if they could defeat the Scandis, their task would not
be done. Somehow, they had to return everyone to their home planet and this could not be done without the Scandis’ cooperation.
Furthermore, once all their mischief was undone, some
way had to be found to ensure that it would not happen again.

Braldt was staring up at the tiers, watching the blue aliens advance on the hard ones, thinking that victory was within their
grasp when something inexplicable happened. One blue alien after another stopped its rippling and stood slightly bowed as
though listening. Then, in chain-like command, they lay down where they stood and rolled themselves into tight, motionless
cylinders. The guards stared in astonishment, and after gaping at each other to see that they were not mistaken quickly retrieved
their weapons.

The Scandis lost no time in directing the robots and the guards to gather up the now quiescent aliens like so many rolled
rugs and take them away, back to whatever form of confinement they had shared before the outbreak. Only this time, Braldt
had no doubt that the Scandis would find a way to keep them under control.

“Come on, we’ve got to get out of here,” Braldt said to Keri, grabbing her by the hands and dragging her deeper into the arch,
knowing that they had to vanish before the guards and Scandis found them, wondering what had gone wrong, why the aliens had
ceased their attack. Perhaps they would never know; Yantra seemed to be a difficult god to understand.

The corridors echoed with voices as they plunged deeper into the immense labyrinth that lay under the arena. Almost immediately
they began meeting prisoners freed by Randi, Allo, and Septua, rampaging toward the arena in search of weapons and retribution.

Keri and Braldt joined a group already armed; several
members wore silver uniforms similar to Randi’s. They were heavily bearded and their uniforms frayed and torn; it was obvious
that they had been on Rototara longer than the others. One who appeared to be the leader sized Braldt up with a swift glance.
“You Braldt?” he asked tersely. Braldt nodded. “Randi told me about you. Sent me to find you. Transmission station this way.
Follow me.”

Braldt looked around, seeing the hordes of prisoners pouring past him into the arena; hatred and the need to inflict pain
burning in their eyes and scored on their tortured flesh. Braldt realized he would never be able to stop them, to convince
them that they could not win and for all he knew, perhaps they could. Randi’s friend had not stopped to see if Braldt was
following him and was already a good distance away. Braldt made his decision, and pulling Keri by the wrist, hurried to catch
up.

The flow of released prisoners increased as did clots of guards, bunched together, fighting desperately to stay alive and
for the most part not succeeding. Braldt almost felt a moment’s pity for them, for most of the guards had had no choice in
the role they played, their only decision being guard duty or death in the arena.

They pushed their way through the struggling masses and soon found themselves traveling empty corridors with doors gaping
open on either side, mute testimony to the panic which had seized the inhabitants. There were numerous bodies strewn on the
floors in grotesque postures of death, the blood still flowing across the stone floor and swirling in thick pools. A few Scandis
had met their deaths as well, and these corpses all seemed to wear
stunned looks of surprise in their staring, blue eyes as though they could not believe their fate.

There was yet another corpse sitting with its back against the wall, swaddled in ragged layers of coarse robes. Braldt leaped
over the outstretched legs and when he heard the whisper of his name thought at first that he had been mistaken. He stopped
with difficulty and turned to see who had called him. At first he saw no one, then his attention was drawn to the bundle of
rags on the floor, for it seemed to move slightly. One hand raised and signaled weakly, then fell back to the ground.

Braldt’s heart sank and there was a leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach. There had been so much death already and there
was no reason for this one to die. He was ashamed that he had forgotten about her. And Lomi—what of Lomi? “Saviq?” he said
softly, dropping to one knee and gently pushing back the heavy folds of fabric that swathed her head.

He had half expected to see some horrendous wound, but there was nothing to be seen except the rheumy, filmed eye and the
torment of ancient scarring that warped the old reptile’s muzzle.

“I—I am glad you came,” Saviq said quietly. “I do not know what is the matter with these old legs, they just refuse to go
anymore. I sat down here to rest, but now I think it will be a longer rest than I had planned. But we did it, Lomi and I,
we brought about the downfall. We have saved you, the two of us. Will you remember us, two old ones, after we have gone? No,
that is too much to ask, you owe us nothing. Forget us, but do good
things with your life and do not take the lives of others for granted.”

“What are you saying?” asked Braldt. “I will not forget either one of you, and I will not leave here without you, do not fear.
But tell me what it is that you and Lomi have done.”

“It is too late for Lomi,” Saviq said with a sad smile. “She is freed from her pain and sorrow. I was with her until the end.
She is happy now.”

“Lomi is dead?” Braldt asked numbly. “Why? How?”

Saviq shrugged. “She was old. We are both old. Our time has come. But we have done it, we have fixed the Scandis, she and
I; their time here is over.”

“What have you done?” Braldt asked again, seeing that Saviq was fading quickly, needing to know what was going to happen.

“Sent a message to Brandtson, your grandfather. Asked for help. He will come. Took a message to Jorund, he will stop the robots
if he has the courage. One thing remains. Must open outer doors for the true ones. No time left for me. You must do it for
me.”

Then, even as Braldt bent over the ancient crone, trying to ease her labored breathing, her mouth twisted to one side and
her single eye lit up as though it were receiving some private vision of joy. She was gone from them now; no one would ever
be able to hurt her again.

Keri looked up at Braldt with a question in her eyes, wanting to know, but not daring to ask.

“A friend,” Braldt said quietly, looking down on Saviq who had perhaps given her life to help people she
did not even know. There was nothing more he could do to help her. He would follow her instructions even though he did not
understand them. His grandfather! His heart leapt at the thought and he pulled Keri to her feet after saying a silent prayer
over Saviq’s still form.

Saviq was not aware of their departure, nor was she aware of the aches and pains of her weary body. Her flesh was still of
the earth but her spirit was free. She was young and beautiful and her body lithe and graceful. She was not alone. She was
lying atop a flat rock, reveling in the heat of the two suns beside her beloved. Soon the rains would come, the rains that
would liberate her brethren from their dens, the dens where they had gone with the first of the great heat. The rains would
free them and they would roam the land filled with a rage and madness, a blood lust that would only be satisfied when they
had fought for the mate of their choice. She had already been won. She was beloved. She turned toward her lover, opened her
arms wide, and gave herself up to his embrace.

Braldt pondered the meaning of Saviq’s directive as
he and Keri continued on down the corridor. Open the outer doors for the true ones? What did that mean? Who were the true
ones and what outer doors did she mean? Would Jorund be able to disarm the robots? Only time would tell.

“We saw outer doors, I’m sure, when we first came,” Keri said softly, scarcely daring to interrupt his thoughts. Braldt stopped
abruptly. “Where?”

“I—I don’t know,” she said uncertainly, touching her throat with her hand. “Somewhere over there,” she replied, gesturing
to the warren of outer corridors.

Braldt was undecided. What to do? Randi and the others were waiting for him at the transmission station. He could go back
to his own world and tell them what he had learned, try to convince them of all that he had seen and of the danger they were
in. He wondered if they would believe him.

Or, he could do as Saviq said and open the outer doors for “the true ones.” He yearned to return home. He wanted nothing more
than to see the blue sky and the single sun of his own world as well as the faces of those he loved. But did he dare turn
his back on so many of
those who had given their lives to help them? His heart grew heavy and he knew what his choice must be.

“I must do as I was bid,” he told Keri. “You and Beast are free to go if you wish. Find Randi and the others. They will send
you home.”

“I will not leave you,” Keri said stubbornly, her eyes growing bright and the old determined sound coming back into her voice.
The tone she had used to defy him since their earliest days when she was a tiny nuisance trailing after him and Cam where
she was not wanted. Braldt was filled with joy at the sound, for it was the first sign of the old Keri. He squeezed her hand
and smiled. “Show me these outer doors.”

Leif Arndtson wondered at his good fortune and dared to hope that he might yet survive. Somehow, he had made himself understood
by the furry savages who held him and the small remains of his command captive. He had been taken to their leader, an immense,
grizzly, gray, furred creature with an angry, glowering countenance. Fortunately, he seemed to defer to an older, more gentle-natured
Madrelli who appeared willing to listen to his story.

He was obviously disturbed at the news that the volcano was going to explode, but he did not seem to doubt Leif’s word, which
was very reassuring. After a moment of deep thought, the old one murmured a set of orders to the large, gruff commander who
frowned with displeasure but did as he was ordered. He queried him on all the details of how the charges had been set and
where
they had been placed. Then, he and two others left the party and trotted off the way they had come.

By this time, many of the others had become aware that something was wrong. Leif and his small party were so obviously frightened
and by more than their capture, that it was hard not to realize that something was amiss. The old Madrelli quieted everyone
with raised hands, then turned to Leif and urged him to his feet. “You want to return to your world, Scandi. Well, you may
have your wish, but know that if you return, you will not go alone. None of us here have any reason to love your people; they
have sought to rule our lives and actions for too many generations. If you go back, we go with you, and we will not arrive
with peace in our hearts.”

Leif Arndtson could do nothing but bow his head at the old one’s condemnation, for even he knew enough to know that the other’s
words were true. He had always accepted the domination of the Madrelli as rightful, for they were slaves and animals, were
they not? But somehow, here in this place, they had an aura about them that made it impossible to think of them as either
animals or slaves. But still, his allegiance had to be to his own people, didn’t it? If he stepped back into his own world
bringing a savage enemy down upon them, he would be a traitor to his own people. Yet if he were to live, it was the only way.
It wasn’t like he had a choice; the whole planet was going to explode any minute now. Surely they would understand!