ABC - Penance
Chapter 35

Morituri’s, Unity Townsite

My first words to the world were probably unexpected.

“Is my bike Okay?”

“Hmm?” queried a softly spoken man’s voice. I felt a hand resting on my forehead, warm and gentle, then my right eye was opened. A light shone briefly in my eye, making me blink, then my other eye was given the same treatment.

“You were lucky” the voice continued. “There appears to be no concussion and no broken bones” My watering eyes could now discern the figure looming over me, a sad looking face filled with regrets. He moved his hands away, reaching for something on a tray beside the stretcher I was strapped onto.

“If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have been hit by the truck” I replied. The man reappeared in my limited view, holding a hypo-injector. “You’re Tor Anderson, aren’t you?”

“Not for a long time, Miss Alvarez” he answered me. His left hand swabbed my bare neck then I felt the brief sting as something was launched into my bloodstream. “You can call me Pony if you wish to call me anything”

Whatever he had given me, it wasn’t knocking me out or making me feel strange. I twisted my head around, observing the small white painted room we were in. Cabinets filled with medical supplies and a basic Auto-Doc mounted on the closest wall confirmed my guess. I was in the Treatment room at Morituri’s, normally reserved for patching up wounded fighters.

“Just to clarify, Pony, you don’t know how my bike is do you?”

He gave me a small smile, the kind of thing I was starting to get from Ghost whenever I managed to amuse him.

“I believe the bike was quite heavily damaged” he responded evenly. “It took the brunt of the impact. The wreckage has been stored in the garage behind the club, if you get a chance to look for it”

“Do you think I’ll get that chance?” I asked in as flat a tone.

“No, Miss Alvarez” he sighed. “They are going to put you into the Arena along with your partner. I don’t think you will be leaving this place alive”

My ears perked up and I couldn’t help but grin.

“My partner? So Detective Gaunt is here?” I wondered aloud. “Can I see him?”

“Soon, soon” Pony assured me. “I am pretty much done here anyway. The serum I gave you should start working quickly, so you’ll be as prepared as I can make you for what lies ahead”

“What was in that shot?”

He stood close to the stretcher, his face almost kindly as he looked down at me.

“Something I have been formulating in my head for many years. It is a refined version of my original Fast Heal serum. I was able to make a test batch in between the other work they demanded from me”

“Fast Heal?” I asked. “Why would they let you shoot me up with that if they plan on killing me?”

He laughed gently and patted my arm like a kindly Uncle.

“They wouldn’t” he whispered so only I could hear. “I told them you needed a counter-agent, since you had been poking around the laboratory. They were more concerned you may be infected”

Doors slammed somewhere close by, startling us both. Pony bent in even closer to whisper one final thing. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Trust in Nine” he said cryptically, then jerked upright as the Treatment room door was flung open.

“Ah, Mr Tan, the subject is ready” Pony said affably. I rotated my head as far as the straps allowed me, seeing a young-ish man of Asian appearance. He wore a plain grey suit, his dark hair cut short in a fashionable style and a single heavy ring on his left hand.

“Thank you, Professor Anderson” said Jacob Tan, standing aside to let the other man depart the room. I heard the door close, watching my target with a flat glare. He met my eyes with his own disinterested regard after checking to ensure I was still securely held down.

“You are a remarkably tough woman, Inspector Alvarez” he began. “I can’t imagine how you have survived so many close calls”

“I’m a cockroach, Jake” I responded. “You guys keep trying to squash me but I come back for more”

“I think that makes you a masochist, Lou” he countered, making me pause. I have been called a masochist and a sadist any number of times, but only one person ever calls me Lou.

“Have you been watching me?” I asked him. He laughed and leaned in over me, hands braced to either side of my supine form. This close I could detect a strange, unfamiliar odour from him. I had no comparison, yet he smelled almost reptilian like a snake or lizard.

“My associates have been keeping tabs on you, ever since you took down my predecessor” Tan said. “They wanted to take a much more direct approach, but that would have drawn the attention of Archimedes. So they settled on giving you enough rope to hang yourself, waiting for you to put your neck in the noose”

“Samuel Thane” I blurted, interrupting his monologue. “You took over from him after we blew the prick in half!”

“Ahh, I see you understand” Tan said agreeably. His eyes bored into mine and he did something I thought only happened in horror movies. I swear his eyes went totally black, like oil swirling in to fill the whites completely. I recoiled from him and his grin was wide and toothy, pleased with my reaction.

“What the fuck are you, Tan?” I whispered.

“I am the Abyss, dear Luisa” he answered.

A knock sounded from the door and a tall armoured Warden entered, absurdly subservient to the slightly built man looming over me.

“Excuse me, Mister Tan, Warden Acres and his party are here now”

“Thank you, Warden” Tan responded, still looking at me like I was his next meal. “She is ready for her last performance”

With that he left the room, taking his funny smell and his scary eyes with him. Another Warden joined the first, carrying something I recognised all too well. He snapped the white plastic collar around my neck and locked it with a Smart Key.

Once I was in the Jangler, his companion drew out the remote and primed it. The PCD on my neck pinged in acknowledgement, letting them and me know it was ready and charged.

As added insurance, my captors took Shock Rods from their belts before undoing the straps that held me down. They prodded me to stand up, my booted feet resting at last on the stained white tiles.

“Welcome to Morituri’s” the first Warden told me. “I hope you enjoy your stay”

They laughed in unison and with not-so-gentle pushes ushered me out into the corridor beyond. Somewhere above us I could hear loud, old-fashioned Western Rock booming from speakers, vibrating the bare concrete walls and ceiling.

I smiled my biggest grin and went in the direction they indicated. This place was an Arena and even if I had never been here before, I knew exactly where I was.

I was home.

=====

I have never been particularly shy about my body because I never thought it was worth looking at. My hips are narrow, my chest is a board and my face has stopped way too many punches. So I was taken aback when I stepped into the Arena and got choruses of wolf-whistles and shouts of “Show us yer tits!”

My armour weave and Ceramite had been stripped from me while I was out, leaving me in my black pants, boots and a spandex sports bra holding my meagre assets in place. The Arena was a circular pit ten meters across, the walls about two meters high and made from rough-faced concrete. Above that was a dome of mesh, peaking about five or six meters overhead. The dome supports were striped black and yellow, sensor poles to trigger a PCD that passed between them.

Around the pit, hemming in from all sides, were staggered ranks of seating. Filling those seats were men and women from the Camp, inmates all, as evidenced by the PCDs around their necks. They cheered and clapped, stamped their feet and hurled abuse and declarations of love in equal measure. The music and the crowd competed to burst my eardrums, all of it reflecting from the harsh concrete walls.

Goddam but I had missed this feeling. I basked in the praise and hate for a few moments, then lowered my eyes back to the fighting pit. Ghost was waiting for me, leaning against the curved wall and watching me with that flat, unreadable expression of his.

He was wearing black pants and boots like me, his broad chest and arms exposed. There were fresh cuts and marks on his skin, evidence of his capture. A thick white collar was locked around his neck too, probably the first time he had ever worn a Jangler.

“Hey, partner” I said softly, my words lost in the roar of noise and music that filled the Arena.

“Hey, Alvarez” he answered me, his deep baritone cutting through the racket. “You look like you stopped another truck with your face”

I giggled hysterically at his comment and could only nod my agreement. For once it was true.

Like a switch had been thrown, the music died mid-riff and the crowd of inmates quietened too. The absence of noise was like a pressure loss, making my ears want to pop. Over my head, a spotlight illuminated one section of the dome.

I realised this part was actually separated from the rest of the stands by thick glass panels, forming a three sided barrier. Prisoners and other guests sat to either side of the viewing booth, kept apart from the VIPs who came to watch the show.

Plush seats, three in a row, occupied the booth with room behind for blunt faced Wardens to stand guard. A door at the back opened, allowing Head Warden Acres to descend to the centre seat, accompanied by Campbell and the lean form of Jacob Tan. The two men sat either side of Acres, the Town Liaison Officer on his right and Tan to the left.

“Welcome, my friends, to Morituri!” Acres boomed out, his voice projected by hidden speakers. The prisoners all hooted and cheered, as if the man were their king and not the guy keeping them caged.

“Tonight we have a special treat for you” the Warden continued. “Two of the Police Auxiliary, a man and woman who have dedicated themselves to keeping you in chains!”

Boos and curses followed, then ceased as Acres raised an imperious hand.

“Not just any servants of Archimedes, these are lap-dogs of his Avatar, foul creatures who commit their crimes while hiding behind their inhuman master!”

While the crowd lapped this up, I examined our surroundings. There was a heavy, metal framed door I had entered by. That only lead to the basement level, which may have other ways out but would take time to locate.

Opposite me was a second door in the curved wall, as solid as the first. That may lead to the ground level or may go down again, which meant as an escape route it was going to be risky. I looked at Acres, still working up the crowd with hatred towards Ghost, me and our AI master. Back in the Northern Block, a prick like him would be called a Redneck.

I guess the closest equivalent here in the Zone was to call him a Wanker.

He finished his tirade and gestured to some unseen lackey. The door in the opposite wall opened and four figures strode in, forming in an arc against the other side. All of them wore body-hugging black pants and sleeveless shirts, feet in laced boots that came up to their knees.

The group was made up of three beefy men, sporting an array of sharp weapons and a muscular woman hefting a broad bladed stabbing spear, much like an Assegai used by the Zulus to gut British Redcoats. All of them had reddened chafing around their necks, proof they normally wore a PCD outside of this Arena.

“Hey Ghost, how far do you reckon you could throw me?” I asked my partner.

“Spear throw or hammer toss?” he replied and I could see him mentally sizing me up for weight and balance.

“Hammer toss” I answered.

“I estimate at least five meters and as far as ten” he decided. “Do you have something in mind?”

“Wait for my call” I said. “We need to clear some room first”

“Copy that” he affirmed and we stood close to each other, facing towards our opponents.

From his glass booth, Acres gazed down at us, a sly smile creeping across his face.

“Kill them” he commanded and the Arena erupted into noise.

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