Wings of Retribution (77 page)

“He saved my life, didn’t he?” Athenais growled.  What was Juno trying to say?  She would’ve kept her word.

“Since when did you care if somebody saved your life?” Juno laughed.  “You’re a user, Athenais.  Just like me.  Empathy isn’t in your blood.”  Juno paused.  “Do you ever wonder if we even exist anymore, Athenais?  Do you wonder if you only
think
you’re you, but your spirit left the first time you died?  You think maybe we’re just robots?  That maybe we don’t have souls anymore?  Sometimes I feel like that.  Soulless, you know?”

“Stop trying to mindscrew me,” Athenais said. 

“Oh, I know you’ve thought the same thing,” Juno laughed.  “I’ve seen it in your eyes, Attie.  You know
exactly
what I’m talking about.”

Athenais did not answer.  She was looking at the deck beneath Juno’s feet, a slice of dread cutting through her being. 

Crimson blood speckled the planks, a different color than her own.  Slowly, Athenais looked up.

Taal was bound to the mast.  Dead.  The bulb on his neck was deflated, large slabs of flesh cut from his tail.  The smell of cooking fish wafted up from the kitchens belowdecks.  Athenais’s stomach churned.

Juno followed her gaze, her thoughtful expression contorting into a disdainful sneer.  “We made sure to cut off the meat while he was still alive.  Best tasting, that way.  When they die, the wash hits their system.  Makes it taste fishy.”  It was then that Athenais noticed the blood spatters on Juno’s boots, saw the crimson stains on her sleeves, saw the curved blade sheathed on her belt.

Athenais’s remaining hand found its way to Juno’s throat and she slammed the other woman against the gunwales in the surge of fury that followed.  “You petty, selfish bitch!” she shouted into her face, slamming the back of her head against the boards.  “I’m going to drag you so far into the Black that you are
never
found!”

Juno managed to push Athenais’s arm away with both hands, but before she could twist away from the side of the ship, Athenais kneed the other woman in the crotch.  Several Warriors came running to help, but not before Athenais had kicked Juno to the deck and smashed her foot into her face.  She kept kicking even as they pulled her away.

“
You’re lucky I don’t have another anchor!”
Juno screamed, getting to her feet.  She stepped forward and kicked Athenais in the stomach as her Warriors held her down.  Athenais felt the air leave her lungs in a painful
whoosh
.  She tried to double over, but Juno kicked her again.  And again.

When she was done, Athenais was dazed and incoherent.  Juno ordered her tied beneath Taal’s corpse, in the middle of his congealing pool of blood.  Then Juno squatted in front of her and waved a blue vial under Athenais’s nose.  Her head swaying drunkenly, Athenais barely heard Juno say, “This is going to be the best high I ever have.”  Then Juno went belowdecks, leaving Athenais alone with a squad of Warriors. 

Athenais spent the next few hours slowly regaining her bearings.  Juno had broken her nose and split her scalp in several places, but it was the cold, congealed blood dripping on her from above that left her shattered.

Dallas was sober by the time the technician came to the edge of the pool and shook her gently.  Dallas sat up—she had slid back under the regen liquid during her sleep—and pulled off the respirator.

The woman in the white lab coat looked apologetic.  “It is the Emperor’s Will that you go to the arena.”  She nodded at three Warriors standing in the door.  “I’m sorry, Dallas.”

“Sorry for what?” Dallas asked.

At that, the intercom came on.  It was Juno’s voice, spiteful and angry.  “
Since you still have not shown yourselves, I invite you both to visit the arena.  You ever heard of the Roman blood spectacles?  Imagine a starving, hyper-intelligent, thousand-pound shark in a tank with a hundred pound airhead with a harpoon.  She survives that, we will find something more fitting.  Let the games begin.”
  At that, the intercom switched off.

“Oh,” Dallas said.  She glanced at the men waiting for her.  “Any chance I could get some more of that drug, then?”

The technician shook her head solemnly.  “You’ll need a clear head.”

Dallas sighed and slopped out of the regen tank.  The technician handed her a towel and then directed her to stand on a scanning platform for one final examination.

“Your vitals, core temperature, brain activity are all normal.”  The woman said so with a sadness to her voice.  “Looks like the treatment was a success.”

“Yay,” Dallas said, stepping off the platform to her clothes.  “Now I can become fish food.”

The technician leaned close.  “Be sure you go for the eyes.  Sharks protect their eyes at all costs.  I saw a man once who survived by gouging the shark with his fingernails once he lost his harpoon.”

Dallas gave her a grateful look.  “You’re really nice.  Thanks.”

The woman gave her a timid smile and stepped back as the three Warriors stepped toward her.  One of them held out his arm, indicating that she should follow them.

Dallas made a disgusted noise.  “At least wait until I get dressed, okay?”  When they continued to stand in front of her, she said, “In
privacy
.”

The three men glanced at each other confusedly, then turned their backs.

“Not where you can see!” Dallas cried.  “Get out!”

The Warriors obliged and left the room, but stood with their backs in the doorway, lest she try to escape.

“Barbarians,” she muttered.  She quickly dropped her towel and tugged on her clothes.  To the technician, she said, “I don’t suppose you have any bite-resistant undergarments?”

The woman shook her head.  “They will take your clothes before putting you in the tank.”

Dallas frowned.  “You sound like they’ve done this before.”

“A couple times a week,” the woman replied.  “It is one of Our Guiding Light’s most favored diversions.”  Had Dallas seen a twist of disgust on the woman’s face, before it was hidden again?

“Does the guy with the harpoon ever win?” Dallas asked.

“Um…”  The woman gave her a pitying look.  “Well, sometimes, I’m sure.”

“Wait,” Dallas cried, “What about the guy who clawed at the shark’s eyes?”

“Oh, he died a few hours later.  He’d lost both legs and a good portion of his pelvis.”

“Oh,” Dallas said.  

“But I’m sure you can win,” the woman insisted hurriedly.  “Our Guiding Light wouldn’t use it to judge the gods’ favor if the innocent couldn’t win.”

Riiiiiight
.  If what Dallas had seen of the pig-eyed woman had been any indication, she probably blew off an arm or something before throwing her victims in the vat.  She acted like a spoiled toddler that had somehow scrambled to a professorship in an academic guild.  The dichotomy was unnerving.

Dallas swallowed and took a long look around the room, trying to come up with some excuse to stay in the cozy little regen room with the nice lady and her various creepy-looking medical apparatuses.  Then, reluctantly, she sighed.  “Guess I should go.  Thanks for patching me up.”  She gave the technician a brave smile and, when the woman didn’t come up with some last-minute urgent treatment to spare her from a shark attack, she marched after the Warriors.  The technician followed her to the door, then shut it sadly behind her.

The Warriors had been leading her for several minutes before she noticed that one of them was wearing a different color footwear than the others.

“Those are nice boots,” she commented.

The Warrior in the lead gave her a sour look.  “Keep your mouth shut unless you want a pike in the face.”

One of the Warriors walking at her elbow sighed and leaned close.  “Ki’lan is a bitter old floater.  Doesn’t have enough women in his life.  He’s sensitive about his boots.  Lost his good ones when his ship went down last year.”

“Shut up, Yutin.  We aren’t supposed to talk to the girl, remember?”

“Aw, come on.  What harm in it?  Look at her.  She couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“That’s not the bet you made for tonight’s match.  You think she’ll actually do some damage before the shark eats her.”  The big Warrior scoffed.  “She’s just a pampered little pussy.”

Dallas reddened.  “At least I’m not a big, stupid knucker.”

The man walking on her other elbow hooted.  “You hear that, Ki’lan?  I think she insulted you!”

“Let her,” the man growled, his voice dangerously low.  “If she does it again, I’ll break her nose before we throw her in the shark pool.”

Dallas flinched.  Blood was bad.  She’d heard that sharks were like redcats with snaggleteeth and a worse attitude.  Still, though, she couldn’t help but quip, “You mean you’re actually the one who throws me in?  That’s surprising.”

The Warrior in the lead glanced back at her, scowling.  “Why?”

“Because I’d think a coward like you would shit yourself, getting so close to that big, scary shark.”

Ki’lan turned on her in a flash and slammed a fist into her gut.  As she doubled over, gasping, he sneered in her face.  “Anything else to say, brat?”  When she could only huddle against herself, trying to catch her breath, he snorted.  “I didn’t think so.”

He had turned away when Dallas muttered, “I take it back.  You’re not afraid to go near that shark.  It’s afraid of you.”

“That’s right,” Ki’lan said, smiling.  “See?” he said to his companion, “with the proper application of corrective force—”

“…because you’d screw it in the ass if you ever got the chance.  That’s why you don’t have any women.  You like fish.”

The two Warriors on her elbows glanced at each other.  “Is that possible?” one of them asked.  They had to restrain Ki’lan when he lunged at her, red-faced.  It took both of the Warriors to subdue him, and Dallas stood there grinning while they held him against the wall, shouting at him to calm down.

Ki’lan finally shook them off and started walking again.  The other two Warriors gave his back an irritated look and shoved Dallas after him.

“You know, I hear cod are nice.  All smooth to the touch, not so scaly-like.”

“Best be quiet,” Yutin said.  “Next time he takes a swing, girl, I’m not stopping him.”

Looking at the malicious promise in Ki’lan’s face, Dallas relented.

They had been walking several more minutes before Yutin started and glanced at the narrowing hallway around them.  “Ki’lan, you moron, we missed the stairs.”

“Oh shit.  You’re right.”  With a lightning-fast motion, Ki’lan swiveled and punched Yutin in the throat.  Yutin collapsed to his knees, eyes wide, his hand clutching his neck.  The other Warrior beside Dallas shouted a curse, staring at Ki’lan in confusion.  He never saw Ragnar come up from behind until he was sprawled out on the floor, bleeding from the scalp.