Wormhole Pirates on Orbis (31 page)

“What now?” Theodore whispered.

“I think we
are
going to have to fight,” I said.

Each team was given its own holding cell, a small metal room with running water, something that looked liked a first-aid kit, and several large O-dats. On one side were four plastic bunks and a food dispenser.

Ketheria leaned against the far wall near the only exit. I figured that it led to the labyrinth. Her arms were folded, and she was staring at Switzer.

“What are you looking at, freak?” he spat.

“What happened to you?” she said softly.

Switzer turned his helmet in his hand, thinking. “More than you can even imagine, little girl. And much more than you can probably stomach.”

“You don’t have to be this way, you know. There is time for you to change. There is still time for you to do good.”

Switzer jumped up, laughing. “Would you get a load of her?” He towered over my sister. “You don’t get it, do you? It doesn’t get any better than this. You’re only going to have what you take. No one in this universe is going to give you anything, no matter how
good
you are. This universe is crammed with creatures that think nothing of your suffering, as long as their needs are met first. You can obey all the rules you want, but remember something: they made the rules to benefit
them,
not you.”

Ketheria turned away without responding and sat on one of the bunks.

“Leave her alone, Switzer. Save your angst for the match.”

“How long do we have to wait?” Theodore asked.

I was wondering the same thing. But I was waiting for Switzer to make his next move. Max was with Athooyi in a public area. I wasn’t worried about her right now. She could handle herself out there. Did Switzer plan to fight? That was good, actually. I just had to make sure I went with him. But when was he going to go after the Ancients’ Treasure?

“So what’s your plan?” I asked him.

“My plan? Exactly. It’s
my
plan. You just sit there and contemplate your fate. You don’t need to know my plan.”

“Switzer, I told you that I don’t care about the treasure. It’s yours. Take it. I’m just worried about us. If I knew what you were doing, then maybe I could save everyone here.”

“And your little girlfriend?”

I moaned. “Oh, would you let that go?”

The room pulsed. Everything went green for a moment, and a soft chime filled the air.

“
That’s
my plan,” Switzer said, motioning to the signal. “To watch one of you die right now.” Switzer stood up and put his helmet on. “So who’s ready to meet the Source?”

I jumped up. “I’m going,” I said as the room pulsed red and the chime was replaced with a clang. The O-dats displayed our opponent. It was the Citizen I’d seen with Tinker and her four hooded knudniks.

“It’s those big guys,” Theodore said, pointing at the screen.

“The bigger, the better,” Switzer remarked, and headed for the exit.

“Be careful, JT,” Theodore whispered.

Ketheria moved toward me. “You don’t have to kill anyone,” she said softly. “There are other ways. Use those first, all right?”

“I’ll try,” I said, but I couldn’t promise.

“C’mon!” Switzer shouted from down the hall. “Everyone has to come!”

“Why everyone?” I yelled after him.

“C’mon!”

The three of us followed Switzer down the corridor. I thought it led to the labyrinth, but instead we found ourselves standing in another antechamber. This one was completely white, with two sloped seats clinging to the wall.

“Subs go there,” Switzer grunted, pointing to the seats.

“Listen, Switzer, you may not care about winning, but at least let us have a fair chance. Tell me what else is different.”

The antechamber pulsed like the other waiting room.

“Nothing’s different. The subs wait in these chairs. They can watch the match from here. Along the way you’ll find gold crystals throughout the maze. If you’re hurt, hit one of those and these split-screens will appear. If you die, don’t worry; the game will do it for you. Now let’s go. You’re the bait.”

“What? I track. I don’t bait.
You
have to be the bait.”

“Forget about it, Dumbwire,” he said. The section of the antechamber closest to him crackled and disappeared, exposing two corridors. Switzer grabbed my uniform and thrust me down the hall closest to me. He turned and took off down the other. The hallway sealed behind him.

“Be careful, JT,” Ketheria said. “Remember your promise.”

I jammed the helmet onto my head and ran down the corridor.
I never promised,
I muttered to myself. I wouldn’t think twice about killing Switzer if I were given the chance. But I needed to push those thoughts out of my mind. I was about to enter the Chancellor’s Challenge, and I needed to concentrate on surviving. It made me very anxious that Switzer was playing the sort. We had never once discussed strategy for our match. For all I knew, I could end up fighting in outer space, collecting cosmic streams of energy while trying to unlock a multidimensional puzzle. Then it hit me. What if I lose? What if I purposely play poorly and simply lose the match? We would be eliminated and no one would die.

“I already thought about that,” Vairocina said inside my head. “But a survey of the last 2,800 matches in the Chancellor’s Challenge revealed that their computer is not as random as the one you normally play with. Of the millions and millions of possible game scenarios, it seems the Citizens have weighted their computer to choose the games that have the most . . . blood.”

“But it’s possible, right?”

“I wouldn’t count on that as a strategy, JT. Be prepared to fight. I took the liberty of adjusting the parameters of your right arm to maximize its abilities, and I have linked to the helmet’s visor through your optical nerve. If you would like, I can monitor the visor while you concentrate on the game.”

“I would like that,” I replied as I stepped out into the labyrinth to take my place in the bait box.

My opponent was doing the same, and from where I stood, I could tell that he was just as amazed as I was at the spectacle above us. Towering over my head, circling the playing field, were rows and rows of spectators. They went so high that I couldn’t see where they ended. Bots of different sizes and shapes skittered from level to level, attending to the crowds, while enormous O-dats lumbered through the air, flashing statistics, game shots, and even pictures of me as I entered. Other screens advertised food and clothing just like in the Trading Chambers. The sound from the spectators was deafening. It was as if all the noise was concentrated in one single wave that crashed down upon us as we stepped into our individual waiting areas.

I tried to search for Max and Athooyi, but that was impossible.
Everyone from every ring must be here,
I thought. Surely someone would recognize me. Wouldn’t they tell the Keepers? But who? None of the Citizens I knew would rat out another Citizen, and Charlie was dead.

The floor sparkled, and an energy field shot up around me. The match had begun.
What did Switzer choose?
my mind screamed out.

The light in the arena faded. Then the floor slipped away, almost as if it had never been there to begin with. The crowd roared in response. I glimpsed across at my opponent and saw him crouched upon a glowing disc. A narrow metal pole rose up out of the nothingness now surrounding us and supported his platform. The stars around him blinked on, and I stared out into the vastness of space. That meant that whoever picked first from the sort had chosen
GAS
. We would be fighting in space.
Please, please, please, let Switzer have been smart enough to choose
MECHANIC
in the second round.

“I detect an atmosphere with oxygen,” Vairocina informed.

“How?” I asked her.

“There are a lot of features in your arm I don’t think you’ve ever accessed. At least you will not have to worry about the air.”

I looked up, straining to see the match on one of the O-dats floating in front of the spectators. I knew they could no longer see us on the playing field. They would be watching Switzer and the other guy working their way through the labyrinth. Not until one of them reached the bait would this part of the field be revealed again.

As one of the huge O-dats swung near me, I caught a glimpse of an explosion. Good! That meant someone chose
TECHNOLOGICAL
in the third round. I couldn’t see
INDUSTRIAL
or
MAGICAL
creating that sort of explosion.

“You cannot assume that,” Vairocina said.

“I’m trying to be positive.”

Then, from out of nowhere, the wall to my right burst apart and Switzer barreled through underneath the spectators.

“He’s good,” Vairocina said.

“I know.”

Switzer was piloting a strange flier called a rattle basket: two circular discs, each supporting a tall, thin cage for each of the pilots. Switzer stood on the largest, navigating the machine from controls mounted near his wrists. From the way Switzer was crouching, I could tell that this machine was not designed for a human. The second disc swung erratically around him, flinging back and forth whenever he turned the flier. That’s where I was going to sit. I had seen this device before when I was studying the game with Max and Vairocina.

“Can you believe this piece of crap? Jump on!” Switzer screamed, and then maneuvered the flier in front of me. The back cage flung around, and I caught it with my right arm. Mounted directly behind Switzer was a plasma turret.

“You were fast!” I shouted.

“Maybe not fast enough,” he yelled as our opponent stormed the arena, too. The light in the labyrinth grew brighter, and with it came the deafening roar of the crowd.

“I created a link between you and Switzer through your helmets. You can talk normally,” Vairocina said.

“Now, please!” Switzer said, still yelling.

I threw myself into the cage, unhooked the turret, and slid it around in front of me. The huge weapon locked into place with a clank and instantly hummed to life. The glow emanating from the massive gun ignited everything in a blue inferno.

“You know how to use that thing?” Switzer screamed.

“Yes.”

“Then use it now!” he yelled as four more fliers, each manned with two aliens, broke through the wall, firing.

Switzer swung the flier around, making a wide arc of the arena. Two of the fliers gave chase while one concentrated on our opponent and the other stood guard at the only exit.

I pumped four blasts at the aliens chasing us. They were Garins, tall monkey-like creatures who must have felt just as uncomfortable as we did with these fliers. None of my shots hit its mark.

“I thought you knew how to use that thing,” Switzer shouted over his shoulder.

“I do!”

“Then kill them!”

I remembered Ketheria’s request, but I saw no way to appease her. Switzer slowed the flier, and the Garins charged the gap between us.

“What are you doing?” I screamed at him.

“Maybe you need to be a little closer.”

I pumped the turret once more, but the first Garin dodged to his left, avoiding the blast with little effort. Then he jerked the flier to the right, and the back of the flier spun around and locked in front. The pilot aimed his turret right at me.

I pumped three times in succession. Each shot struck the weakest parts of the flier, shattering it to pieces.

“Nice shooting!” Switzer cheered.

The one pilot was still gripping the turret as he spun off into space.
I didn’t kill them,
I told myself, but I didn’t see much difference.

The crowd cheered with the explosion and cheered even louder as the other crew took the place of the one I’d just blown up. Switzer cut sharp, turning back toward the opening in the wall and directly in line with the aliens guarding the passage back. The other flier copied Switzer’s maneuver.

“What are you doing now, Switzer?” I growled.

“Just shut up, keep your head down, and squeeze that trigger!”

When I fired, the aliens giving chase returned my favor. With great skill, Switzer dropped the rattle basket twenty meters and my stomach lurched into my mouth. It took everything not to vomit on my visor. The blast from the Garins sailed over my head and directly into the flier of Garins guarding the hole in the wall. The bits and pieces of their unintended target rained down on us as Switzer beelined for the now unguarded opening.

“Don’t fire at that one,” he ordered. “When they see us reach the opening, they’ll turn on our opponent. We’ll use them to slow those guys down.”

I could not deny it: Switzer was good — really good, in fact.
Why didn’t Switzer just stay and try to win this thing?
I wondered.
He might even turn into a hero or something if he won. I’m sure he would enjoy that.

Switzer’s skilled flying and fearless fighting placed us in the winners’ circle for our first match. The other knudniks were nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t help but wonder if our opponents were dead. I felt some remorse, but a very big part of me was glad I was standing in the winners’ circle with Switzer, hearing the crowd cheer for us. Switzer turned and waved to the spectators (more than once), soaking up every drop of their affection. Even if I did feel guilty about my opponents’ deaths, though, I would have to get used to standing under the adulation of this crowd if I was going to survive. I needed to be here at the end of every match, no matter what the consequences.