Alkalians (53 page)

Amelia chuckles, brushing back some of
her long brown hair, and replies, “Nor did I, Buster. But who could
have known that Ryan would get himself into hot water like he
did?”

“
Heh, yeah. The guy’s
pretty lousy, but even that bit he did to Irene is just awful.
Besides it being cruel and unethical, harming somebody not in
morph, there’s also no sport in it!”

Amelia chuckles more dryly at the
mention of Irene. “Yeah, there is that. Ryan’s never treated women
properly. He’s certainly no gentleman, like you.” Her eyes
twinkling, Amelia says, “You are quite the gentleman from what I
remember. Right, Buster?”

Her comment chops through Buster’s
chipper attitude, causing him to blush and fumble for words. “Er,
hehe, uh, yeah, I guess that’s right. That was awhile ago, though,
wasn’t it?”

“
Hmm. Yes, it was. About a
year ago, I think it was. That’s when you became so prominent in
battles you crowned yourself the champion of the pit arena, and so
I became, well, interested in you.”

“
Ah, right. Yeah, that
sounds right. Hah, I made quite an impression on you, didn’t
I?”

“
Oh, I suppose. But I
think I made a greater one on you. I was the first one you went all
the way with, right?”

“…
Yeah. That’s right. I
try not to think back on it, though.”

“
Oh, but why? Did you not
like it?
Enjoy
it?”

“
Ah, well, yeah, sure I
did. Really, I did! But, now to think back on it, it’s almost, you
know, embarrassing.”

Amelia laughs at the rare sight of a
timid Buster, and says, “That’s too bad. I had hoped you would have
felt more, oh, enlightened from it, than embarrassed. Like Matt
has.”

“
Yeah, I suppose that’s
another word for it, but…” Buster pauses when the last thing she
says sticks to him, coyness replaced by curiosity. “Wait, did you
just mention Matt? You mean, you, and Matt…?” When Amelia nods, he
bursts out laughing, saying when he can talk again, “Why does that
not surprise me? Of course you would be
interested
in the freshman freedom
fighter!”

Amelia shrugs before replying, “Yes, I
did show my interest in him, soon enough, but he was the one who
approached me, first. He has been shy and hesitant, but once he’s
warmed up to it he makes for a great partner. I think he’s getting
better at it, even, since the last time. At this rate, he could
soon be as much a ‘gentleman’ as you were, Buster.”

“
Heh, oh really? Well,
good for him, I suppose. If he had to get smitten by someone around
here, he’s lucky it was someone as beautiful, and charitable, as
you.”

“
Aw, Buster, that’s such a
nice compliment from you. Thank you, but, aren’t you somewhat
jealous that Matt could soon surpass you in it?”

“
Eh, I don’t know.
Fighting’s my only real passion, and it has been awhile, so what
could I do about it?”

“
Hmm. Well, if you were up
to it, later tonight we could give you a chance to match Matt. That
is, if we don’t beat ourselves up too much, here!”

“
Haha, yeah! Um…” Buster
looks around at the arena audience, quieting as the match is about
to begin, and then smirks back at Amelia. “Tell you what. If I win
this, then sure, I’d be down for it. I could look at it as a kind
of ‘prize’ for my victory. But, if I lose, I would have to decline.
If I can’t beat you in battle, then how could I please you in
bed?”

Blinking at his proposition, Amelia
then chuckles, smirking back at him. “That sounds fair enough. I’ll
almost feel bad, though, for defeating you here and not making it
up to you later.”

“
Heh, you need not worry
about that, I’m a tough guy. And besides, I’m sure somebody we know
would love to indulge you later, if I lose.” Amelia shakes her head
before the two become rigid in pose, ready to morph as the
countdown above ends and the siren goes off.

***

Out of two morphing flashes, one green
and the other grey, the seniors reappear in their battle morphs,
Buster being the larger one as a MechWarrior, two heavy guns
mounted off his back and his left arm twisting into a shotgun aimed
at his smaller foe. He fires once, but all he penetrates is a
sudden screen of deep mist, steaming up and past him in a haze.
Puzzled, he looks around, his mechanical vision and sensors blinded
by the hot mist, and gets struck by a bolt of energy from behind,
the spell jabbing the weak spot of his neck and leaving a green
glowing wound. He whirls around, getting a glimpse of Amelia in the
thickening mists around them, before a gust of a different gas,
like smoke, swirls into him, disorienting him while particles sting
at his armor, leaving sparkling spots of wounds all over
him.

Blind and slightly desperate, both his
gun mounts gatling barrels sweeping rapid fire in all directions,
Buster knows if he can’t get a clear shot at her hiding in the
mists surrounding him, Amelia’s spells will grind down and
eventually defeat him. In a few more moments, when his gun mounts’
cores are near overheating, and more plumes of smoke, like poison,
enter the gaps of his armor to spread internal damage throughout
him, his wounds darkening to yellow, he finally figures out what to
do.

With a large propulsion of air
balance, he launches himself up into the air, escaping the
formidable fog, and hovers high above the arena to aim his arms as
special guns down and rain grenades into the mist. The enchanting
emerald haze erupts with the fiery flashes of the grenades
exploding, the gases blending and scattering, before Buster’s
scoped vision at last locates his target by a far wall of the
arena, where she had fled to avoid the blasts.

The only thing serving as armor, or at
least clothing, for Amelia’s humanoid battle morph is a light aura
of her magic mist, the most of her bare body visible except for the
parts the mist thickens to cover her sexual features. She could
have been a beautiful sight if her body also isn’t wounded, her
shoulders, arms, legs, and the left side of her face afflicted with
yellow glowing burns from the grenade blasts. She looks herself
over, frowning at the wounds, and back across the arena to where
Buster lands, his gun mounts now rocket launchers. Her frown gets
deeper as she takes the moment to heal some of her wounds with
wisps cast over her, the burns changing to green in color and
disappearing from her face.

Not going to give her more time for
healing, Buster fires a few rockets from each gun mount, and they
arc through the air to converge downward at Amelia. With the energy
missiles coming from her right and left, and a wall behind her, she
has only one escape route. She takes it, surging forward on a
twister of mists containing her lower body, while the rockets
barrage where she was once standing.

Amelia knows she was playing right
into Buster’s hands, or guns to be precise, when he volleys
grenades at her. What he doesn’t know, however, is how she’s ready
for that, spinning to cast out the twister before her. It
intercepts the energy grenades, whirling them around in itself as
it races towards Buster, sending his attack back at him. He looks
surprised, but recovers quickly enough to side thrust clear of the
twister and its explosive package, delivered when they go off in
the vortex and consume it in their blasts.

Grinding to a stop on the arena floor,
Buster raises a grenade launcher and sends a few grenades at Amelia
again, intending for them to catch her while she is in the open.
She turns to face them, the spheres about to reach her, and flicks
out a flash of a spell at them. Instead of exploding near her, they
suddenly freeze in place in the air, solidified into orbs, before
they descend and rotate around her under her mental
control.

Buster’s mechanical eyes blink, again
surprised, and he watches Amelia smirk back at him, twirl on air
balance, and then cast the orbs back at him like cannonballs. He
should have expected that, but was still trying to figure out what
kind of spell she used to capture his grenades, and so could only
grunt when they smash into him, bending and cracking his chest
armor with dark orange energy bursting from his wounds.

Staggering from the consecutive
impacts of the orbs, Buster admits to himself she was good as she
follows up the orbs with a direct bolt of energy, penetrating his
torso through his wounds and turning them red, but he goes to show
that he was better with a sudden, wild, perhaps desperate move.
With another air balance thrust, he charges straight at Amelia,
taking her by surprise, and his left fist crashes into her as an
uppercut, throwing her into the air with her misty aura trailing
behind her, her wounds bleeding dark yellow. She flips in mid-air a
few times, but instead of reaching the floor gets grabbed by
Buster’s right hand, his mechanical gauntlet crushing her around
her waist and hips.

Cringing with her hands curling at his
fingers, Amelia looks up to Buster’s helm, no mercy in his machine
eyes, and down to his left arm, a shotgun, before it spits bullets
into her, the mist on half of her chest shattered and replaced by a
red wound. Going limp from the blast, she’s as good as done when
Buster drops her to the floor, steps and turns to loom over her, a
statue of fire and steel, and his right gun mount aims down at her
as a cannon for the final shot.

***

The instant the cannon fires a mortar
into the ground, a red demorph flash coincides with the blast, and
Amelia is left in a crater, sprawled in her human form and barely
conscious as she coughs and clings to her aching chest. The smoking
gun mount bends back, and Buster remains standing tall in his
battle morph as the speaker announces, “The winner is Wilson
Harmada,” and the audience roars with applause, at which he waves
and fist pumps back to them. Once he demorphs, though, he bends
over, coughing and clutching his chest as well, before turning back
to Amelia, shaking his head and wiping some blood from his mouth.
“Well, that was fun, eh?”

Managing to roll onto her side and
look back at him, also with blood spittle by her mouth, she
replies, “Yeah, sure it was. I almost had you, there.”

“
Heh, yeah, you did. Lucky
for me, then, that I’m quick on my feet! But hey, sorry if I got a
little rough at the end, like that.”

Sitting up and wiping away her blood,
Amelia says, “Oh, you were fine. It’s not like I haven’t been
handled roughly before.”

“…
Was that an
innuendo?”

“
Huh?”

“
Ah, never mind.” He
reaches down to her, adding, “Seems you learned a few more tricks
since we last had a match. It was much to my dismay we haven’t
fought in awhile, then I could have known about them!”

Smiling, she accepts his hand to pull
her out of the crater and onto her feet, saying, “Yes, that is a
shame, I guess.” While Buster continues holding her hand to raise
her arm up with his, inciting more cheers from the crowd, she
speaks into his ear, “I’ve also learned a few more tricks for the
other thing I’m good at.”

Buster’s beaming grin cracks when he
hears that before he says, “I see. I suppose that means you’re
gonna surprise me with them later tonight, then?”

“
Of course, if you think
you can handle them. But hopefully, we won’t get as rough as we did
today!”

“
Hah, yeah, agreed!” He
glances to her, seeing her smirk and the twinkle in her eye, and
tries to shake it off as they continue absorbing the audience’s
applause.

Chapter 14

Glory in the Arena: Rumbling
Reds

***

A few minutes after the blue division
is finished, with the presentation and announcement of the finalist
pair, Sean and Buster, the red division’s semifinals begin. Into
the arena appears another freshman-and-senior pair, contrasting the
other in ways besides their classes. In his officer’s suit of
long-sleeved vest and pants, the same shade of black as the
sunglasses on his face, is Tony, a scowl present beneath the
glasses as he hears the ruckus of the audience, some of which are
booing at him. Meanwhile, in her green outfit, with her family
crest hanging from her neck, Rose isn’t sure what is making her
pale with anxiety more, being before such a large audience of her
peers or the fact they are cheering for her.

The two come to stand about thirty
feet apart in the center of the gym with the crowd in the stands
yet whooping or sneering around them. As Rose looks all around,
meekly smiling and waving, Tony’s voice reaches her through the
noise. “Hard to believe you’re such a natural at fighting. Right
now, you’re not much of a rose, and more like a lily, by how white
you are.”

Grimacing, Rose looks back to Tony, at
the black visors he has for eyes glaring at her, and remarks, “You
can’t blame me for being somewhat nervous. I’ve never had to fight
with so many people watching me, until now.”

“
So many people, huh? You
mean them?” He gestures to the audience. “This is nothing compared
to the number that will be watching the finalists. They televise
the event, so that nearly everyone across the country, from every
state, can watch the Alkalian College Championship
Match.”