Part 10 (1/2)

He pa.s.sed the tent with a final, Clan-like epithet: if this miserable excuse for an entertainment establishment actually managed to capture such an animal, Clan Nova Cat would have descended to raze the whole, filthy locale to the ground. Peace or no peace.

I have not even been to the Clan homeworlds. No melancholy, just a statement of reality and acknowledgment of the horrors that had cut off the Inner Sphere Clans from their birthplace, likely forever.

Petr pa.s.sed into a region filled with stalls and their hawkers, foisting a supposed universe of bounty upon those lucky enough to walk these dirty stallsa but only for today! Fried branth from Lopez (poison to most human metabolisms); Mycosia pseudoflora from Andalusia (too many buds); real Canopian women for any pleasure (too white-skinned and thin-boned); a Kurita officeras katana from before the Jihad (blade too long, not folded); even a whispered call to view a Word of Blake robe (wrong material and st.i.tching): the entire charade made him ill. The wh.o.r.e putting on her paints and perfumes to blind the customer to her stench, her sham, her total lack of joy.

No Canopian Pleasure Circus here.

In fact, like the Nova Cats, Petr felt confident a real Canopian Circus would use the fusion drive of their Drops.h.i.+ps to scour the entire region clean.

Why did Snow pick this location for a meeting?

He closed in on a large, makes.h.i.+ft arena, with stacked and rough-nailed seating; perhaps a thousand people might be able to view the enclosed arena, though he doubted the entire Circus saw that many customers in several weeks, much less a single show.

Moving between the two rows of stacked bleachers, the sour tang of old urine seeped into the pores of his tongue. He swallowed, tried not to gag again. Even after the unbearable reek of the Merchant House, the monstrous-sized smells of this place almost defied description, overpowering olfactory senses bred for s.h.i.+pboard living.

Why?

Petr came to a stop, ignoring the commotion on the arena floor, and immediately scanned the crowd: about fifty people of ages ranging from teenagers to those so long in the tooth they held themselves away from death with their fingernails. He did not immediately spot her and so began to move along the front of the bleachers.

Those who thought to shout at him for blocking their view quickly thought better of their comments at the sight of his uniform and the angry storm raging across his face. Almost immediately, those on the front benches began to move back and up a seat or two as he neared; the killing instinct in his eyes became a glaring torch that strove to burn all before him.

Reaching the end of the occupied seats, he continued on for a half dozen paces, then took three large steps to reach the top row. He rocked the entire section of bleachers as he sat, though no one commented on that, either.

Petr turned hot eyes on the ridiculous spectacle before him.

His thoughts churned sluggishly, as they always did when he could not control himself; he sat unseeing.

Why here? Why now? aYou should not trust what you see?a Was the message to look for a deeper meaning? Could not possibly be that. Surely she held enough respect for him she would consider such a message unnecessary. What then?

He s.h.i.+fted slightly and winced as a sliver found its way with a pinp.r.i.c.k of agony into his b.u.t.tocks, probably would need to be disinfected.

Are you jealous?

The words swept toward him like a teleoperated capital-cla.s.s missile. He suddenly felt like a lumbering Overlorda”cla.s.s Drops.h.i.+p attempting to evade the mechanical raptor that swept the void with its electronic eye and zeroed in on its prey, mocking its futile attempts to escape.

Though saKhan Sennet did not say as much, the words resonated within, regardless of his efforts to ignore them.

Are you selfish?

Another ping and another missile dropped into the void from a launch tube, sending out its powerful radar to sweep the emptiness and drive relentless, to run its target to ground.

The roar of a hurt animal from the arena floor did not impinge on the raucous sound between his ears; he tried to s.h.i.+ft on the bench again and settled after another white-hot jab from the stravag sliver.

He did not wish to face either accusation; the words resonated too closely with those often spoken by Jesup. He trusted himself. Knew himself and did not lie to himself. Such self-deception was for spheroids and Snow Ravens. Not an ovKhan.

And yeta The question hung, balanced over the knifeas edge of his self-image. Waiting like the sword of Damocles for him to make one wrong move, contemplate one wrong word that would unleash the blade and cleave his life in twain.

aA stone for your thoughts.a aSavashria slipped out before he could stop it; he flinched, hated himself for it. Not often anyone took him by surprise.

Looking to his left, he gazed into the smoldering depths of smoky gray eyes. For nearly ten seconds he took no notice of his surroundings. The sword within, which felt like the weight of a Arcs.h.i.+p keel, vanished in those depths.

In those stormy currents.

aYou know, sweetness, I told you last time what would happen if you kept staring at me like that.a She batted her eyes coquettishly, canted her head slightly. aBut since I see you went and let someone work you over with the ugly stick, I may just have to reconsider letting you take me to bed.a Petras tunnel vision collapsed and he could finally take her in completely. Noticed the dirt and caked grime limning her face, spattering down her neck and even onto her clothing, only increasing her unattractiveness. For just a moment, he felt the urge to pull away. Until he realized there was not a hint of repugnance in her gaze at his horribly scarred head.

aWell, I guess I could simply close my eyes, right, sweetness?a Her words, though playful, simply did not match the frank look in her eyes. Those eyes told him she might not be joking.

Though he had banked the coals of his ire since yesterdayas encounter with the merchant traders and the lost trial against Sha, he felt the embers starting to grow dark. For the first time in his memory, someone who should have fired his rage to nova-hot temperatures actually managed to calm him. It was disconcerting, especially when she also managed to aggravate him at every turn.

He didnat stop to contemplate this strange effect she had on him, however, because he wanted to take advantage of it to put her off guard. To score after their last meeting, and to forestall her likely anger at his lack of progress.

He opened his mouth and she smoothly cut him off, pointing to the arena.

aDonat you just love these shows, sweetness? The fun, the thrills. The excitement.a He turned his attention to the floor and noticed it, really noticed it, for the first time. Approximately a hundred meters long and a little under half that wide, the arena was more properly a pit: simply dug straight into the ground about eight meters, with earthen ramps descending on both ends; a series of wooden barricades with small trap doors allowed any to enter, but none to leave except at the sufferance of the arena magister. One look, even at this distance, at the cruel set of his face and large whipa”supplemented by an old blazer rifle strapped across his backa”told of few returning back through those gates.

Staring hard into the pit (difficult to do, with a good portion of a view of the floor blocked by the steep drop of the side), Petr spotted a small cl.u.s.ter of tall humans, wearing loincloths and with their hair arranged in topknots, using studded tridents to keep at bay a three-meter-tall, four-armed horror. For the first time at this travesty of entertainment, Petr found his interest piqued.

How in the worlda?

The living nightmare moved forward at blinding speed, claws and jaws snapping at the human fighters. Petr leaned forward slightly, ignoring a new stab from the sliver, intent on the response of the warriors. With almost practiced precision, they formed a phalanx, the first row dropping to their knees and all thrusting forward to create a double-row walla”with slightly curved ends to keep the creature from flankinga”of hard steel. The monster almost pulled a warrior out of place when it stopped abruptly, lashed out, grasped one of the tridents and wrenched it hard to the side. The warrior let go and several tridents lashed forward to draw blood, eliciting a scream of pain and rage.

aNow, sweetness, donat tell me you like blood sports, too?a He turned to find Snow avidly watching the unfolding gladiatorial fighting: she had predicted his interest, which would keep him distracted. aI may just propose to you on the spot, and weall find a place for nuptials under the bleachers.a aIt is filled with the stench of urine,a he responded. Her lips began curling into her usual sarcastic reply, but he injected his rejoinder first. aThen again, you stink enough now, I probably would not notice.a Snow froze (imperceptible, except that he had been watching for just such a tell), then replied, aNow sweetness, themas loving words. All Iam saying is aloving words.aa He allowed himself a small smile, which widened when he caught the brief eye blink. Head surprised her. And she knew that he knew.

Ah, the games we play in negotiations.

aA Nolan,a he said, trying to throw her off her game by switching back to her own bait.

aYes, theyave held it here for some time.a aHow? Not even the Sea Fox have managed to keep them alive off Engadine for very long.a aNow how would I know that?a She smirked. aI know lovers like to think their partners are omniscient and all, but please.a He watched her attempt to put her hair into some semblance of order and he actually laughed.

aYou laughing at me?a Her eyes twinkled with merriment.

He sucked his teeth (wondered for a moment if he would ever get the taste-smell of urine off his tongue), and actually reached out and patted her knee, drawing a startled look. aOf course not, Snow. Iam laughing with you.a aAh, no talking dirty to me, sweetness. And hands off until the wedding night.a A terrible, gurgling cry interrupted their repartee. They turned their heads in time to see the decapitation of one of the warriors, as one set of arms simply tore the body in two. The Nolan took several gashes from the warriors in return, however, and actually was forced back a step.

With a new understanding, Petr s.h.i.+fted his gaze to the magister and saw the panic on his face, even across such a distance.

The warriors are doing much better than you expected. He just might lose his Nolan.

He nodded thoughtfully at the warriors in acknowledgment of their obvious skills, considered, for just a moment, striking out for the magister in the hopes of ending the match; there would be a good market in Nolans if they could be bred off Engadine and in captivity.

aSo, sweetness, about my offer?a The words brought him back from the potential of a good deal, to the immediacy of a deal in the works.

aWhich offer would that be?a aDonat go all coy after offering to drag me off and have your way with me under the bleachers.a Snow s.h.i.+fted and winced; he imagined shead gotten a sliver in her own ample rump.

Petr maintained his silence until she actually looked put out and broke the silence between them, though her voice dropped several decibels and lost some of its playfulness.

aThe invasion of The Republic. Have you decided what use you might make of that information?a Petr raised his right hand, rubbed the fingers together (ignored the grime transferred from the wood) and looked at them casually; glanced back up. aPerhaps.a She looked at his hand, back into his eyes, her own smoky gaze suddenly burning with renewed intensity.