With a sinking feeling, I looked around. Four Collectors vibrated with excitement as they gazed into the arena. Of course they piloted the monsters remotely. As guests, we had to be content with watching the bloodshed, but that wouldn’t satisfy our hosts. Immortal, their tastes had to expand
The fight began without ceremony. Another chime, and the lizard-beast raced toward the gathered thieves, darting left and right, keeping its targets off balance until it pounced. Caught by surprise, its prey managed a spear-thrust which the lizard batted aside without slowing. Mighty jaws snapped closed on the thief’s arm, sending him tumbling down to the sand in a spray of blood.
Others scattered from their dying comrade, only to run into worse danger as other monsters arrived. A pair of Chrichri, caught in the path of the six-legged creature, fell beneath its feet. The twin razorbirds swooped through the clustered thieves, leaving a trail of blood and screams behind them.
Cries of encouragement rose around me, and I shivered at the bloodthirsty display. I didn’t mind death or violence, but this was a murderous horror show, not honorable combat. My handstightened on the balcony’s railing, the cold crystal biting into my palms.
Steady. I’m not about to leap down there to fight these monsters, and I can’t afford to have anyone wondering why I sympathize with the thieves. There’s nothing I can do for them.True or not, it still tasted like cowardice.
Next to me, the noblewoman hissed a curse as the lizard creature dove into her chosen group. The four of them reacted like a well-oiled machine, dodging the first attack and closing in for a coordinated strike. Their experience didn’t help them.
The deadly lashing tail caught the fur ball across the face as he charged in. He fell, howling in agony, into the path of the female Prytheen. She sidestepped him, but the moment’s distraction let the monster catch her with a massive paw.
The razorbirds plucked the last two from the arena floor, lifting them into the air and tearing them apart. Despite their skill, all four died in the space of a few heartbeats.
No one in the audience missed the lesson of this bloody circus. Thieves were not welcome near the Collection, and any who pressed their luck and got caught would pay a horrible price.
It finished in less time than I’d expected. The lizard roared in triumph, its barbed tail ripping through the final criminal’s torso and sending a bloody spray toward the balcony. It stopped inches from my face, splattering off a forcefield.
Some guests flinched back or turned away. Others watched with glee. Those I made a point of remembering—they’d be just as happy to see me dead on the arena sand.
I had no such sadistic urges towards them. No, I’d settle for taking their prized art. Some of the wealthiest art collectors in the Reach were here, enjoying the carnage. This score would set me up for life, but that didn’t mean I had to give up the work I loved.
My gaze found Penny and her hovering camera, a few steps back from the crowd and recording everything. My jaw tightened at that—did she think I was like the gleeful, sadistic monsters around me?
Why does that matter to me? Let her judge; I know better.The words were cold comfort as our gazes met, and I saw the scorn in her expression. Well hidden but unmistakable, written in the tension of her jaw, the tightness around her eyes, the slight tremble in her smile.
Anger, disgust, and revulsion mixed in her gaze. To my surprise, though, she directed none of it at me. It took me a moment to understand; she’d caught the same reaction in me. She didn’t dare let the others see, not here where it would mark her as an outsider. Even those disgusted by the bloody deaths approved of the killings themselves. The rich and powerful, at least those invited by the Collectors, were bloodthirsty barbarians at heart, and Penny needed to maintain her image with them if her plans were to succeed.
To everyone else, she had to pretend to be fascinated by the display of wanton cruelty down in the fighting pit. We both did, and neither dared admit the truth to anyone else. Rivals or not, we shared a disgust for this murderous entertainment.
Perhaps because we were both in danger of being thrown into the pit ourselves.
7
PENNY
The fight was worse than I’d expected, and my gorge rose as the monsters slaughtered their way through the ‘gladiators.’ At least filming the crowd gave me an excuse not to watch. A pity the sounds were worse than the sight.
A sharp scream drew my attention, and I looked around before I could stop myself. In the second before I turned away, I saw the screaming Prytheen carried in the terrible beak of a bird with the wingspan of Texas.
Her scream cut off as the bird bit her in half, blood spraying everywhere. It splashed against a forcefield, and the crowd shrieked with joy. Long-trained reflexes took hold, clamping down on my expression and blanking my face. No one here needed to see my emotions. Not now. They’d learn what I thought of them when I finished the job.
“Debbie? Please record this bullshit, along with everyone who’s enjoying the show.”
What I’d do with that record, I had no idea. I’d find a use for it, a way to remind these rich assholes that lives had value. I stopped thinking about that as I spotted the one person I’dbeensurewouldn’t take part in this kind of performative cruelty. Varok.
Why didn’t I expect it? Just because he’s a thief, too? That’s not a sterling recommendation of his morals.As usual, my inner voice was all too ready to criticize me for my charitable opinion of the fake antimatter sculptor.
“Fuck you,” I whispered to that silent, smirking voice in my head. “He’s an ass, but that doesn’t make him a murderous voyeur.”
My inner voice stayed silent. She didn’t need to say anything. Varok stood right there, watching the monsters tear apart the poor thieves who’d failed to rob the Collectors. The last of them splashed onto the protective forcefield, a wave of blood which made the more squeamish audience members turn away.
Not Varok. He stared down into the arena full of blood and gore, and I wondered what he was thinking. Sorry the show was over? Wondering whether he’d end up down there, too? Hoping I would?
Then he turned, and his eyes caught mine, and I saw the bloody rage in the twitching muscles around his eyes. If he’d pointed that anger at me, I’d have dropped everything and run the fuck away.
But his rage wasn’t directed my way. It radiated from him in waves, and I wondered how no one else saw it. If they had, they’d be fleeing for their spaceships.
