Alien Chronicles 2 - The Crimson Claw (35 page)

BOOK: Alien Chronicles 2 - The Crimson Claw
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Screaming curses, the Zrhel attacked her. Ampris thrust him off with her arm, refusing to use her glaudoon until he answered her question. Again he went tumbling across the dirty sand. She tackled him before he could rise, and pinned him to the ground.

He thrashed beneath her weight, snapping viciously with his beak, his talons clawing at her.

“Can it be fixed?” she shouted at him. “Could it be used for the abiru?”

He went on screaming curses, too panicked to listen to anything she said. Growling, Ampris let him up, thinking he would scramble away from her. Then she would be able to ask him once more before she had to run him through.

But when she released him, the Zrhel instead turned on her, clawing across her chest with talons that sliced razor sharp. Ampris roared in pain and gripped him by one feathered arm. But he dived across her, ignoring the sudden snap as her grip broke his arm.

His beak cut through the tendons at the back of her knee before she could stop him. Roaring again, Ampris rolled with him, trying to dislodge him. But the Zrhel clung to her like something demented, gashing her again and again with talons and beak.

She was losing blood and strength. She had dropped the glaudoon as they rolled and tumbled. It was useless at such close quarters anyway. Elrabin had not armed her with a dagger, as she wasn’t supposed to need it. Thrusting the Zrhel’s snapping beak away from her throat, Ampris bared her fangs and bit his shoulder.

She got a mouthful of skin and feathers, her powerful jaws crunching through bone. The Zrhel’s screaming grew shrill and louder, then it abruptly cut off as Ampris snapped his neck.

Panting hard, the world swimming around her, she thrust his lightweight body away from her and tried to climb to her feet. Her left leg refused to support her weight and she fell.

The crowd booed her more loudly than ever.

From the corner of her eye, Ampris could see medics and handlers running out to her. She shook her head, trying to clear her cloudy vision. Again she tried to rise. Again she fell.

Pain skewered her, a fiery throbbing pain. Her golden fur was smeared with blood, her own blood. Ampris lifted her head and roared defiance at the booing crowd. Then the handlers reached her, tossing her bodily onto a stretcher and sending it bobbing out of the arena with the medics.

Ampris kept hoping they would give her something to null the pain, something that would knock her unconscious, but they didn’t. She was shoved through a tunnel jammed with trainers, servants, handlers, and waiting gladiators. Everything was a blurred confusion of shapes and noise. She was still bleeding, her senses spinning around her.

For an instant she managed to blink her vision clear and glimpsed the veteran Aaroun gladiator of the Greens. He stood in fighting harness, waiting to go in with the slouched patience of a professional. His gaze met hers, briefly, full of pity, and he gave her a tiny salute of farewell as she was carried past.

Not until the medics bumped the floating stretcher against the infirmary doorway in their haste, jolting her weight onto her injured leg, did Ampris think she might finally pass out. Writhing, she screamed in agony, and rough hands pressed her flat.

“Be still,” someone told her without sympathy.

Ampris could hear the hum of a medical scanner. Someone close by was moaning and whimpering. She gritted her jaws to hold back any sounds of her own suffering.

Temporary bandages were stuck over her lacerations and gashes. By then Fuvein was there, bending over her and giving the medics a rapid series of instructions. They yanked her leg straight, and Ampris cried out, arching her back in pain.

Again they pressed her down, and this time restraint cables were secured around her to hold her immobile. She heard Fuvein’s voice arguing with Halehl’s, both sounding very far away, then a mask was placed over her face, and she knew nothing else but oblivion.

CHAPTER
•FIFTEEN

Shivering with nerves, Elrabin compressed himself even more tightly in the narrow space between the desk and a box of training gear in Halehl’s office. He had hidden there to avoid being caught searching Halehl’s desk. Now he tried to stay still, not even breathing more than he absolutely had to, and cursed the trainer in his heart for having come in at this critical moment.

Halehl seemed to be in a hurry. Activating only a single lamp, much to Elrabin’s relief, he switched on the linkup. By turning his head minutely to the side, Elrabin could just glimpse part of the small screen.

The station’s operator could be seen on it. She said something in Viis, and Halehl replied, looking at his timepiece as he did so. Static blurred the screen, then an icon blinked, indicating an incoming transmission.

Elrabin moaned silently to himself. If he got himself caught in here, eavesdropping on the master’s conversations, even if he couldn’t understand what was being said, then it would be worse than the whipping post for him. Elrabin figured he would get the rod, and the thought of even minor electrocution made his heart quail. Oh, Master Halehl was always imaginative when it came to dealing out punishments. But Elrabin was here to help Ampris. All he needed was a pass from Halehl’s desk, and he would be permitted into the station’s infirmary to see what had become of her.

Halehl was standing in front of the screen, which now showed the furious visage of a Viis aristocrat. His skin was variegated in shades of green, dark blue, and yellow, and his rill stood up tall behind his head. His yellow eyes were the coldest, most ruthless Elrabin had ever seen.

It was Lord Galard. Elrabin recognized his features from vidcasts he’d seen. Elrabin panted, then gulped and forced his jaws shut.
Be quiet. Be quiet,
he told himself.

Halehl bowed to the face on the screen. Static obscured it momentarily, then cleared, losing part of what Galard said.

Halehl spoke briefly, keeping himself partially inclined in obeisance.

“Chuh-ha!”
Galard said vehemently.

Elrabin’s ears perked forward. He knew that word. It meant stupid. He grinned in delight. Was Halehl being blamed for what had happened to Ampris? So maybe justice still existed.

But Halehl was nodding.
“Chuh-ha,”
he said in agreement.

When Elrabin realized Halehl was not getting a reprimand, his ears flattened and he mouthed a silent curse.

The two Viis discussed matters for a few seconds more, then Galard’s image blanked off the screen.

Halehl stood there a moment, breathing hard, his tongue flicking in and out. He swore in Viis and kicked his desk with a thud that startled Elrabin.

The box of gear scooted slightly, and Elrabin froze, except for the thundering of his heart. His mouth was suddenly so dry he could not swallow. He had to clench his jaws shut to silence his involuntary whining.

The lights flared on, and the gearbox was shoved aside. Elrabin looked up at Halehl towering over him. Halehl’s rill was flame red and stiff.

“Get up,” he said in a voice of fury.

Fear grabbed Elrabin’s entrails, but he forced himself to jump to his feet. He bowed to Halehl, cringing a bit, and said rapidly, “May the master forgive me. I was just checking the gearbox for—”

“You were spying,” Halehl said, his tone as sharp as a whipcrack.

Elrabin flinched. “Please, I—”

“Never mind. There isn’t time to beat you now,” Halehl said shortly. “Our shuttle is departing in two hours. See that the fighters are informed. Make sure all the gear is checked and accounted for.”

“At once, master,” Elrabin said, starting to breathe normally again.

Halehl glared at him. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

“Yes, at once. As the master commands,” Elrabin said. He scuttled around the desk, relieved to have escaped so lightly, yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave as commanded. “Please,” he said hesitantly, swiveling his ears back. “Please, master?”

“What?” Halehl asked without looking up from the manifests he was collecting from the desk. “I ordered you gone.”

“Yes, master. At once, master.” Elrabin moved toward the door, then once again turned back. “How do I collect Ampris from the infirmary?”

Halehl’s rill flared out and he pinned Elrabin with a suspicious glare. “So that is what you were after.”

Elrabin opened his mouth, panting, and found himself unable to deny it. Once, long ago when he was just a young grifter in the Vir ghetto, he could feed anyone a line of patter as slick as could be. But he was older now. There had been too many beatings, too much cruelty. Besides, Halehl had always had the knack of being able to probe straight to the depths of any slave in his keeping. Lying to him was almost impossible.

Bowing his head, Elrabin whispered, “Yes, master. I’ve been worried about her. You ain’t told us nothing, not how bad her injuries are or if she’s healing good. I thought—”

“You are not expected to think,” Halehl snapped, red burning in his rill. “You do what you are told.”

“Yes, master. But is she going to be released in time to go with us?”

Halehl puffed out his air sacs. “No. Ampris is no longer on the team. She was stupid to let that Zrhel get close to her. She knew better.”

Elrabin sighed. Yes, Ampris had known better. She had been up to something out there in the arena. He had seen a light in her beautiful eyes that had been absent in recent months. She had been fired up, enthusiastic again. But when she was carried out of the arena, bleeding and torn, her face contorted with agony while the fickle Viis booed their once beloved champion, Elrabin had wanted to howl in anguish.

What a waste, a stupid waste. The Zrhel hadn’t been worth it. Now the beautiful, incomparable Ampris was crippled, ruined, and all they had worked so hard for was being destroyed with her.

“Not on the team, master?” Elrabin said softly, hoping that Halehl would explain. Inside, he was frantic, trying to think of what he could do. If Halehl was only angry at Ampris for having disobeyed him, then perhaps the situation could be salvaged. “She going into service for the Blues, going to be part of the training staff? She could be—”

“Ampris will be sold,” Halehl said.

Elrabin’s jaws parted and his ears snapped forward. “Sold?” he yipped. He felt stupid, unable to comprehend it.
“Sold?”

Halehl gestured furiously. “She is crippled for life. Her career is over. Now we must recoup what we can from this disaster.” Frustration burned through his voice, then he glanced up and glared at Elrabin. “Get to your duties. Your service to Ampris is over. Let her name be mentioned no more. Go now. I have calls to make.”

Elrabin scuttled out as fast as he could, while his brain whirled in dismay. Ampris to be sold? Ampris to be gone forever? He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t accept it.

He didn’t let the door close completely behind him, but instead paused there with his ear pressed to it, listening while Halehl swore long and low to himself. Then the linkup was activated. Halehl spoke rapidly in Viis, but Elrabin recognized one thing he said: Vess Vaas.

It was the name of the research laboratory on Viisymel. Horrified, Elrabin stumbled away from the door, letting it close. He tried to imagine Ampris caged like an animal, helpless while Viis scientists conducted atrocities on her, and couldn’t. His brain would not accept the idea.

“Elrabin!”

The shout came from behind him.

Elrabin halted with his shoulders hunched. He turned around and saw Halehl standing in the office doorway. Fear shot through Elrabin, but before he could speak, Halehl pushed the transmitter that controlled his restraint collar.

Energy jolted through Elrabin’s throat, making his body arch backward. He fell to the floor, convulsing helplessly as Halehl jolted him again and again.

When the punishment finally stopped, Elrabin lay there, sobbing soundlessly with tears of pain streaming from his eyes. His body hurt all over. He could not stop trembling.

Halehl placed his foot on Elrabin, holding him down. “There is not time before our departure to use the rod,” he said in a voice as cold as space. “But you’ve made your last mistake. One more transgression, and you will be a rug on my floor. Am I understood?”

Elrabin dragged in a shuddering breath, unable to speak.

Halehl kicked him. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, master,” Elrabin whispered, weeping. He despised himself for his weakness. He wished he could fight, could attack Halehl and tear him apart.

The trainer kicked him again. “I did not hear you.”

“Yes, master!”

“You are a defiant fool,” Halehl told him angrily. “Take care, Elrabin. I will not warn you again.”

He walked back into his office and let the door snap shut behind him. Elrabin slowly levered himself to his feet, wincing in pain, and limped away.

As he walked, he shook with hatred. He crossed the conference room, then stopped, too dazed to remember what he was supposed to do.

The door to Teinth’s quarters opened, and the big gladiator stuck out his head. “What’s the word?” he asked. “You find out anything about her?”

Elrabin’s shoulders hunched. He was still trembling from head to foot. He could not answer, could not even look at Teinth.

The big Aaroun growled at him, then reached out and snagged Elrabin by the arm. “Hey! He use the rod on you? Or he just cut out your tongue?”

Elrabin stood there, seething and shocked. His fists clenched at his sides, and he drew his lips back from his teeth. Lifting his head, he looked right into Teinth’s eyes.

“Halehl is selling Ampris to a lab,” he said, his voice low and ragged. “You love her, Teinth. If I unlock the weapons case and give you a glevritar, will you murder him now?”

Teinth’s eyes widened. He said nothing.

Elrabin waited, but then he realized Teinth’s very silence was a refusal.

“I’m serious,” Elrabin said, growling.

Teinth’s ears flattened, and great sadness entered his eyes. Saying nothing else, he retreated into his quarters.

Elrabin snorted to himself, baring his fangs, and stared around at the deserted conference room. He could knock on the doors of the other fighters, but the answer would be the same. Elrabin took a couple of steps toward the storage bins, trying to make himself follow Halehl’s orders. Forget her, he told himself savagely. She’s history. She’s gone. She had it good, and she ruined her own life.

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