Four guards escorted me down the ramp, steering me toward a narrow side entrance, much smaller than the one I’d seen from above. I glimpsed the sunlight shimmering through the dome overhead, burning it into memory, as if it were the last time I’d see it.
My fingernails bit into my palms, like my hands could crush the irritation, as one guard drove the blunt of their weapon into my back, forcing me inside.
The hallway was oddly shaped. Three times taller than it was wide, with small cones along the wall spilling light upwards in the shape of a ‘V’.
“Do not speak,” Aldren warned, a quiet edge to his voice. We stopped in front of a tall, metallic set of doors, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow as he rifled through his pockets.
What is he afraid I might say?
I wondered why he suddenly seemed so anxious, and what he was frantically digging for in his pocket. He was much more agitated than he’d been on the flight, as if he’d only just remembered something important.
“Put these in your eyes,” he ordered, opening a small box to reveal two beads of glass.
I shot a blank stare, unsure why…or even how I would, I’d never seen anything like them.
“What are—"
“It’s for your own good, if your eyes change in the ring, they will kill you.”
My mouth hung as I debated whether to believe the man who’d strapped a torture device to my neck and was forcing me to compete in some death game. Before I could decide something cold entered my eye, clouding my vision for a moment before it melted away. I flinched, stumbling backward into the arms of a guard as another held the second bead of glass, inching it slowly toward my other eye. Instinctively, I closed them.
“We don’t have time for this.” Aldren hissed.
I let out a yelp as a guard yanked my head back, dizziness setting in as I realized how much stronger they were than the guards I’d faced before.
Was it their armor?
I spared myself the indignity of making them pry open my other eye, glaring my resentment as the cold glass spread over it.
“Good,” Aldren spat, dusting off his jacket as the doors slid open. I blinked a few times, trying to feel some difference in my eyes, but they felt the same.
Why had they done that? What did he mean about my eyes? My mind reeled at the absurdity of it. All of it. These strange men desperate to put some cold glass in my eyes…the magic collar…the city in the sky. I was starting to suspect I’d dreamed it all up, but part of me knew…it felt too real to be a dream.
The inside of the room was pristine; the shiny eggshell floor glowing from strips of light overhead.
A figure in a white uniform stood next to an odd-looking chair, eyes locked on a glowing pane of glass embedded in the wall. The glass was alive with characters that, by now, I knew must mean something…even if I couldn’t understand them. They tapped at it with quick precision, occasionally glancing down at a smaller transparent device in their hands.
The chair’s occupant, a young man wearing ornate armor made from blackened leather, stood as we walked inside.
“Am I done, doctor?” the man asked, sliding an armored sleeve much nicer looking than my own back onto his bare arm. I examined him, wondering if he was a gladiator, and why he didn’t have any guards to keep him in line.
“You’re all set; proceed through those doors,” the doctor said, motioning toward an identical set, opposite the ones I’d just come through.
“Name and sponsor,” the doctor said, glancing up from the device in their hands. One eye was cold and grey, almost lifeless; the other one covered by some device that wrapped around the side of their clean-shaven head. I gaped as Aldren regarded her, more out of fascination than fear.
“Aine Talri, House Caelan,” Aldren replied, rounding the guards flanking me to stand between me and the doctor. Even with his back to me, I could tell it annoyed him when the doctor addressed me instead.
“Age, race, sex at birth,” she asked.
“It's all here,” Aldren answered, swiping his hand over his wrist before continuing, “she doesn’t speak very much. That file should contain anything you need be aware of.”
I did a double take as I saw an image of myself appear on the transparent device the doctor held.
“Unaltered genomes are rare outside of livestock,” She remarked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Rest assured,” he said, with a laugh that sounded forced, “she isn’t livestock. My patron acquired her at market. She was taken from a naturalist outpost in the rim or some such…likely descended from early settlers there...It’s all in the file I sent over.”
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He shot a warning glance as the doctor looked over her glass slab, a glance that said to ‘keep my mouth shut.’ How did they come up with this story so fast?
He cleared his throat. “According to regulation, we should be able to enter captured slaves as machari,” he insisted, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. A bead of sweat formed along his temple. It was obvious he was leaning into his impatience to cover for his nerves. I remembered Rheinan doing the same when mother’d catch him in a lie. What would happen to me if they didn’t buy his story? Why were they so desperate to get me in these…games?
“Yes, legacy humans are allowed to compete,” The doctor replied.
Legacy? Are they some other kind of human?
“Any augmentations or implants not listed here?” The doctor asked, examining the console.
“None,” Aldren replied.
“Very well. Please have a seat,” the doctor said, motioning me to the chair, as the guards parted slightly to allow a path. I hesitated for a moment, feeling Aldren’s gaze burning a hole as I stood there, wondering if I could escape. I finally relented, recognizing the hopelessness of my situation as I sat down.
“You’ll need to disengage her cuffs,” the doctor said to Aldren, who nodded at the guards. I sat in a daze, still so overwhelmed I barely felt the cuffs divide.
“Place your arms there,” the doctor said, nodding to the chair's armrests. “Try to hold still, to avoid any injuries.” My unease spiked, the last word catching my attention.
“The scanner may feel odd, but you’re in no danger,” she added, noticing my clenched fists.
Despite the warning, panic skewered my chest as new restraints encircled my arms and waist, followed by an uncomfortable sensation that felt like hundreds of needles prodding at my skin. I looked down, confused as I saw what looked like silver strands of hair growing from…no…not from, I realized…Into, they were growing into my arms. I jerked as something moved inside me.
“Any sudden movements may cause the probes to detach,” the doctor warned, noticing the subtle twitch. “Any damage to the equipment will be charged to your sponsors.” I concentrated on holding still, remembering the earlier warning about injuries and cringing as I imagined whatever was squirming inside of me being stuck there.
Time slowed as I waited for it to end. I let my body go slack, not bothering to wipe away the tear I felt trailing down my cheek, as my mind settled on a thought that ate at me. The fear that I’d spend the rest of my life at the mercy of others, waiting for relief from a pain that would never end.
“These pathways,” the doctor muttered, frowning as they looked back and forth between the panel on the wall and the device in their hand. Her body froze, eyes drifting up slowly from the pad to look at me.
“Is there a problem?” Aldren asked, nerves almost betraying his mask of impatience. The doctor didn’t seem to notice his slip.
“I've never seen—" She started, furiously swiping at the glass in her hand until a loud throat-clear from Aldren startled her.
“I'm afraid I don’t have time for your curiosity, Doctor. If there’s nothing that would disqualify her, then get on with it.”
“Of course,” she sputtered, shaking her head in a way that felt uncharacteristic for someone so…detached.
What did she see?
Discomfort crept into my chest as I wondered what the seed had really done to my body.
Does it really want to help me?
A sharp pain in my neck pulled me from thought. I jerked in my restraints, drawing a flinch from the Doctor.
“Please relax while the aura system integrates,” she said, her voice tense, “it should come online momentarily.”
“Ourah…system?” I blurted, eyes wide as I continued to squirm at the sensation. My breaths came more quickly as the warmth traversed my body, slithering beneath my skin like a living liquid.
“What did you do to-,” I managed, nearly hyperventilating as I continued to rail against my restraints.
“Calm yourself,” Aldren warned, fingers already clutching the ring that controlled my collar. Not wanting to add searing pain to my list of problems, I focused on controlling my breathing.
“Your sponsor should've informed you,” she stammered, glaring at Aldren, “the nanite cloud I've injected is a simple AI that enforces compliance between matches.”
“AY—EYE?” I gasped each syllable, lungs convulsing involuntarily as the liquid started to work its way around my diaphragm.
“Yes,” she stressed, “It won’t harm you. It also displays your biometrics for you and the audience to monitor throughout the tournament.”
“Bio-what?” I could hardly process the explanation before voice boomed in my skull.
“Hello Contestant. Aine. Talri. I am your Eydexa Solutions. Aura system. Say help for a list of commands.” The words echoed uncomfortably in my ears. I jerked, attempting to clamp my hands over them before remembering the restraints. Wincing through grit teeth, I listened as it rattled off some nonsense about rules and directives.
The seed was not happy. I could feel its rage thrumming in my chest. Does it understand what they’ve done? Or is it just annoyed at the new unwelcome guest?
“Make the voice stop,” I begged, though it came out as a demand, the seed’s anger seeping into my words.
“Say mute non-critical notifications,” the doctor directed, her voice calmer now that the entire room was between us. I repeated the instruction, and to my relief, the voice cut off mid-sentence.
“It’s in…my mind?” I managed.
“No, it’s conducting sound through your bones,” the doctor informed, letting out a breath as she moved toward the exit, clearly eager for us to leave. “You’re all set, please proceed through these doors.”
I didn’t move as restraints retracted, zipping into the chair. Instead, I sat there, stewing in anger at how caged I really was. Between the shackles…the collar...the seed taking control whenever it wanted...and now this...voice...I was the only one who didn’t control my body; it belonged to everyone but me. I felt the seed’s maddening hatred rise alongside my own, until it gave way to a new feeling, one I struggled to interpret.
Inspiration? No... more like...an idea? I brushed it aside; far too aggravated to decipher the missive.
Why can’t you just speak, I shouted in my mind…and when had I learned those words?
I noticed someone blocking the light and looked up to see Aldren, hovering impatiently over my chair, fingers poised to twist the ring.
“Time to go,” he prompted, an edge beneath his cool voice. Likely because I'd defied his instruction not to speak. I eyed him as I stood from the chair, considering the distance between us and trying to decide whether I could tear out his throat before he could twist that ring on his finger. A quick glance around at his guards changed my mind, their thick, mechanical, armor reminding me how outmatched I was.
I need to be patient. I nodded my compliance, my mind churning out theories as I paced toward the exit. Why does this Lord Caelan need me? Judging by Aldren’s nerves, this all seemed incredibly risky. I thought back to what he’d said about fighting for the lord’s amusement. Who would go through the trouble of giving me a false name just to amuse some lord? His reasoning was clearly bullshit, what wasn’t clear was what they were really getting out of this.
Should Aine have a weapon for her first match in the tournament?
