When Bardzecki finally did arrive, I was surprised at my own relief as the bull-like man was my bane more often than not.
“Save it for the games,” he barked, sensing the tension. He should have expected as much, leaving us together for over an hour as the rest of the convene emptied out. Nerves were frayed enough as it was, and the soldiers, myself included, had little patience.
Roth and Fitallion flanked me, reminding me of my first few weeks at camp when they were the only two willing to offer support. I was grateful for their presence as we neared the landing strips. The place had become a chaotic maze of sleek, pinkish redantium and churning bodies. The Scarlets’ crew, identifiable by their rich sapphire blue uniform, made a valiant effort to create order as they bobbed throughout the crowd.
“Move! Out of the way!” one shouted trying to herd the scattered soldiers, clearing a path for the Scarlets to depart.
“That one’s full!” another bellowed, only to be ignored as Instructor Hinkle ushered his soldiers up the ramp.
Off to the side I saw a huddled group of women, Mave among them. It was true then, everyone would be going, just like Winslow said. Was this the military equivalent of a Surplus Festival? I glanced at the nearest crew member, finding a flushed-face man whose voice had gone hoarse from too much yelling. He was probably looking forward to a little entertainment after ferrying a bunch of twitchy soldiers around.
Waiting was awful. We should have stayed down at the convene longer, at least the cavernous tiled room had been cool. Not like out here, the sun only adding to the engines’ heat. All around us they rumbled, louder than loud, and all the while I could feel their humming in my chest.
We were the last to board. Most of the Scarlets had long since gone. The moment I stepped up the ramp I was blasted by cool air, but I felt no relief, oddly, it only made me shiver. I’ll admit, by that point I was an utter wreck, far past nervous or anxious. It didn’t help that Gridleigh sat across from me, both of us strapped to opposite walls as we faced each other.
“Not feeling well?” he asked politely. I wondered at his solicitous behavior until I noticed Bardzecki striding down the aisle, checking to see that we were all belted in correctly.
I let my eyes slide over him briefly, and down over the rest of his mates. I thought it odd that he was the slightest among them, not skinny, no, he had a predatory way, his lean body always seemed to strain, on edge, as if beneath his skin were wires. His mates were a burly lot, and though none of them stood apart by their own interests and talents, they all performed well, especially in regard to physical challenges. Ram had said that the whole camp was putting down bets on the war games’ outcome, and it was down to us or them.
I willed myself to be calm through the entire trip, focusing every breath and blink, counting them out and slowing them down until my body settled. It didn’t take long for us to glide over the planet’s sandy surface, and too soon we were tapping down.
Something pulled gently on my tunic, and when I turned Fitallion tipped his head toward the ramp, telling me to look. Redrock formations filled my vision. Boulders shaped in various sizes littered the maze of adobe walls that snaked in random patterns around towering stone structures. The surface looked smooth from afar, a kingdom of crimson rock, but as we stepped off the Scarlet and drew closer, textures became visible. Pockmarks, ribbed rock, and chipped pits both deep and shallow marred the surfaces here and there, shadows sinking deep into each under the blaring sun. It was the gaming site, an arena of rock that seemed endless—and dangerous. Some of the formations went so high that falling from the precipice would mean a soldier’s death. It was more than a little intimidating, but also fascinating. I’d grown up on a dusty planet of flat-nothing. To me, the dunes had been extraordinary, a treat, but this...
“It is lovely, if unnatural,” Fitallion said quietly in Shetheerie from beside me.
It was an elaborate creation, seamlessly sprouting from the endless sands to blend in as if it had always been. “I wonder how long it took to make,” I replied, using Shetheerie because I liked to.
The sight had a more animated effect on my mates. They became wild with nerves, but happily so. Only I seemed on the verge of losing my breakfast. Finally, and not soon enough in my opinion, we separated from Gridleigh’s format, Bardzecki leading us away to our starting position. It was just outside of the arena. There were no other soldiers in sight as we stood, feet planted in the sand, waiting for the starting bell. Bardzecki left after telling us the games would begin in a few minutes, after the last of the formats and instructors were in place. He said not to cross into the arena until then. He asked if we had any last minute questions, though he was already striding away before anyone could answer.
I stared into the arena. Just ahead there was a concave slope in the rock. Beneath was a hollow spot, barely large enough for a soldier to climb into. I wanted to hide there, on the arena’s skirt, facing away where no one would find me. Hide and wait until the games ended—that was what I wanted, but it wasn’t the plan.
Above us the instructors perched, watching from a number of viewing towers that ringed the gaming site. The red and white striped sash around their waists set them apart from the pale green sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, the weather preset to be perfect.
I fingered my surrender flags, two white rags with 44 scrawled in black ink. Bardzecki had passed them out while we were still aboard the Scarlet. Winslow had clipped mine on himself, taking time to linger a moment. I’d noticed then that my flags were nothing but a rough imitation. Every other soldier had a perfect square of silk, the number embroidered on it. It made me wonder who had remembered me, the thirteenth member, and when they had hastily created the extra flags to go along with the pre-made set. If my mirror gave me a sense of self, then the ugly flags left me utterly displaced.
Something buzzed overhead, the noise breaking into my thoughts. Before I could guess its meaning, Roth was pulling me along, Lee trailing behind us. I was surrounded by rock, being dragged deeper into the arena, and there was nothing to do about it—the war games had started.
Chapter 32
I watched Winslow jog ahead. The rest of my format fanned out behind him, going over, under, and around the redrock walls that closed in all around us. My mates disappeared according to plan, all but two of them.
Roth came to a halt inside a large ring of standing stones. The formation was a series of upright slabs with lintels resting atop, massive portals that stood in a perfect circle.
Roth glanced at Lee, and Lee shrugged back. Good a place as any they seemed to say, so we wordlessly settled in to wait while our format created a loose circle of their own, standing just out of sight.
While planning for the war games Winslow had tried to pin down how long it would take fifty formats to pick each other off. Swan had been the one to answer, simply saying, “All day.” So the idea was to wile away the hours somewhere safe, somewhere away from the thick of things, which was where we were. Only some yards from our original starting point, we lingered near the gaming site’s edge. Lee was carrying the victory flag, and our format was surrounding him, running the first line of defense. I was there because I was useless and could do nothing should a soldier challenge me. And Roth was there in case a soldier came upon us. He would interfere before anyone could challenge Lee. It was a nice, neat little plan, for now at least, and all I had to do was wait.
And I did wait, for hours. At first I was tense and alert, pacing inside the circle of stone like it was my cage. Roth and Lee for their part seemed calm and steady, standing together relentlessly even as the hours dripped by.
Eventually Roth said, “May as well sit down, Frost. Nothing’s going to happen for some time.”
I didn’t hesitate to crumple against one of the slabs, letting my back rest against the flat expanse, hiding me from sight. By that time the tension had left me, and I??
?d grown somewhat accustomed to the ominous sounds that drifted in from unseen places. The first noise had been a thud, followed by a grunt. My heart had kicked up, thrumming away as I searched the area, waiting as my eyes flickered over every surface. But no one came barreling toward us. In fact, I didn’t see a single soul as things grew more intense. Overhead the speaker crackled, a faceless voice announcing, “Format seventeen’s victory flag has been surrendered. All mates of format seventeen are to leave the field immediately.” The announcement was repeated as different formats lost their victory flag, and it was often punctuated by the sound of drumming feet or the call of one soldier to another as they flowed around us.
I recognized that the waiting period was over. Things were moving swiftly now. Noise of combat grew steadily louder, from all directions and close by. The announcements continued, though I lost count after the six or seventh format was called out of the arena.
From my peripheral vision I immediately noticed when Roth and Lee stiffened, but it was only Mar. I watched him hop from rock to rock, then down the remaining slope before he jogged to meet us. He looked cocksure and happy, a grin spreading smooth as butter across his face.
“Look!” he said, holding a sleek silver gun out for our inspection. “I got it from Hudgins, tackled him from behind before he even knew I was there. You should have seen his face when I forced him to surrender.” I noticed the extra flags hanging from his belt, the numbers labeling them as not our own. He’d bested more than just one soldier. “It’s paint, but if you’re marked anywhere but the arms and legs you’re done for. Winslow wanted me to warn you.” Gesturing to Roth and Lee, he said, “Anyone can pick you off if you keep standing there. Move to the stones for cover.” He was gone moments later, returning to his station as Roth and Lee took his advice.
With so little of the competition touching us I must have gotten lulled into a false sense of security, because I was shocked when the first soldier came. He walked right past me as he entered the standing stones, a foot or so from where I sat. I scrambled away, but my reaction only served to get his attention. It didn’t matter, Roth and Lee had rushed over and the soldier turned, sizing them up. His eyes settled on the red victory flag at Lee’s hip, and I knew he was going to go for it. Roth didn’t give him the chance, moving forward to intercept the challenge.
Roth was huge compared to the soldier he fought, and he wouldn’t stop smiling as they circled one another. His opponent’s knuckles were bloody, so I knew he liked to keep his distance in a fight. He did just that, quickly feinting in and out. Lee and I stood back, watching them and wincing together every time the soldier landed a blow, but still Roth smiled.
“He’s having too much fun,” Lee said, watching the surrounding area. “He should put an end to it so he’s not engaged should another soldier appear.”
Just then the soldier punched Roth in the side. I saw him wince. “Hug him, Roth!” I yelled.
Roth followed my suggestion, lunging forward to wrap the soldier in his arms. It was over in ten seconds. The soldier continued to pummel Roth’s sides, but his effort lacked force. It was all he could do to catch his breath so he could wheeze, “Surrender.”
Things after the fight were surprisingly amicable. The soldier, having collapsed the moment Roth released him, stood slowly wearing a half-crack, self-deprecating smile. Roth gave him a hearty pat, saying, “Fast fellow, aren’t you?”
“Not fast enough,” the soldier answered, but he wasn’t angry as he handed over his surrender flag. Roth clipped it to his belt and we all settled in to wait a while longer.
Two more soldiers came along, the first stumbling across us by accident. He’d been moving stealthily, edging his way around. I thought he’d probably been searching for somewhere good to hide. He was slim as a rail, and I felt he was a kindred spirit as he turned tail and ran the moment he saw us.
The second soldier came at Roth so quickly that he hadn’t had time to stand before he was plowed over. They wrestled on the ground, flipping this way and that. I watched from across the ring, Lee had come to stand beside me, his head slightly cocked. Again, Roth could have ended things, but he was enjoying himself. When his opponent recognized the futility of his own effort, he tried to crawl away. Roth was past feeling agreeable and stopped him, catching the soldier’s ankle and demanding surrender.
Fitallion appeared just as the soldier had slunk off in a sulky huff with his surrender flag raised high. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted Fitallion’s forehead. I thought he looked washed-out and gaunt from his efforts.
“Do not trouble yourself,” Fitallion said, seeing my concern. “I am well.” But I worried despite his assurance, recalling how he’d admitted the atmosphere here didn’t agree with him. With speed and reflexes superior to our own, I knew he was a good choice to scout out the surrounding area and report back. He had offered to do so, but it must have been grueling work.
Roth noticed the surrender flags hanging from the back of his belt, eyeing them with a bit of uncharacteristic envy. “Been busy?” he asked.
Fitallion simply nodded, saying, “Call the others.”
Lifting two fingers to his mouth, Roth blew and a piercing whistle issued forth. My format came quickly, pouring in from all sides. I hurried to count heads, coming up one short.
“Jackson?” I asked, looking to Winslow.
“He went down in the first hour,” Mar said. “We heard him cursing the whole way out,” he said on a laugh.
“At least he bested a few soldiers before he was forced to surrender,” Stew said with what could only be described as a pout. “No one has even challenged me yet.” Unlike the rest of them, he wore no additional white flags.
“You picked a bad spot,” Ram told him. “No one saw you up on that rock.”
“I didn’t do so bad,” Edwards said. I could tell he was trying not to gloat, but his eyes glittered madly and he kept flicking them in my direction.
Yes, I wanted to tell him, I see the flags. They fluttered around his waist like a flock of birds. The format had always given him a hard time for his dashing face and slight frame, so I was surprised that he wasn’t smearing their faces in it now. I figured they sort of had it coming, but Edwards showed restraint, hardly bragging.
“I found a place,” Fitallion interjected, bringing gravity to the situation. “It is a ten minute jog that way,” he said, gesturing toward the arena’s center.
What should have been ten minutes took nearly an hour. We jogged together, Fitallion leading us through the man-made terrain. Weaving around the formations slowed us down, but it was Mar that made us halt more often than not, and even Ram lost his head a time or two. Winslow had said, “Don’t stop unless you have to.” But they were simply incapable of ignoring lone soldiers, charging off without warning whenever they spotted someone to challenge.
Eventually we came to rest atop a rise. The only formation there was a towering pillar more than five men high whose shadow we used to escape the sun. The cracked adobe sloped down to where the configurations of stone seemed to climb over one another.
“Here,” Fitallion said.
I glanced around the immediate area, seeing nothing.
“Here?” I questioned, gesturing to the open space. I kicked a lone pebble to make my point. “Where?”
“Up,” he said, hiking his thumb toward the top of the pillar.
“No,” I said, glancing from him to Winslow. “No way.”
The idea was to move from our original location to someplace more secure after the numbers were culled. But if this was Fitallion’s idea of someplace secure, then we had a problem.
“I’m not climbing that,” I said. “I can’t climb that.”
“You don’t have to,” Winslow replied. “Fitallion will carry you up. I agree with him, this is the place. A first would have to be an idiot to pass up its advantages.”
“Then why is
n’t someone already up there,” I said, shading my eyes to see the top.
“Because I am not on their format,” Fitallion replied matter-of-factly. “I am good at climbing mountains, remember? This will be no trouble, like moving up a ladder with waterskins strapped to my back,” he said in Shetheerie.
“I’m the waterskins then?” I replied tersely, steeling myself for the inevitable.
He didn’t answer. No one did. Lee stepped forward, unclipping the red flag from his belt and handing it over. After that my mates melted away, slipping down the slope in every direction to create a loose circle around the victory flag. Only this time Lee wouldn’t be protecting it—that was my job now.
Chapter 33
I held onto Fitallion as he climbed, my arms twined around his neck, my legs twisted over his hips. It was awkward to say the least, but also informative. Until that moment I hadn’t realized that Fitallion smelled different. It wasn’t bad, still subtly musky like a man, just... other. His ginger hair shined white in the bleating sun, whipping gently across my face as the wind toyed with it.
I happened to glance down and immediately buried my face in his neck, squeezing my eyes shut tight. “I’ll die if we fall,” I mumbled into his hair. “My head will bash against the rocks, but I bet you’ll land like a cat.”
“I will not fall,” he said calmly. But he stopped moving to pull my arms away from his neck.