Intelligent Design: Revelations to Apocalypse (22 page)

“Nice look, Immunes Perez. It covers you well,” Hydra said.

“In addition to those moves you taught me, I’m hoping the shock of my appearance will shake the will of my opponents,” Andrea said.

“I think Centurion Data’s moves are the best. Her time on Earth learning your strange ways has revolutionized ground fighting techniques here,” she explained.

“So my techniques, physical training, and new look will take the day?” Andrea asked wryly.

Hydra smiled. She grinned, showing bright teeth in her large jaw, and her giant brown eyes danced with humor.

“If you do what I think you will, it will be remarkably vile and revolting. How your kind lives on such a cold planet without hair is a mystery to us all. And yet, without a Keeper no less, you procreated in the billions. How? If there was ever an argument for the Originators, you Earthers would be a living testament,” Hydra said.

Perez looked at her sideways. “That’s a pretty philosophical statement for a Terran laborer. I mean, connecting evolution to the presence of God? I’m impressed.”

“Must be the battle to come. I always turn reflective when there is combat. Both are rare.”

“Not much of a turnout,” Perez said as she pointed to the near-empty stadium. By comparison, large groups of pedestrians were walking outside its low wall, going to and fro as they tended to their business.

“Maybe it is a good thing. Still, today is the big day!” Hydra said. Her grin grew larger still, making her jaw look even bigger and her eyes narrower.

Nearly all of the Terrans were wearing muted, reddish-brown or black clothes with clear insignia designating their rank and station; Andrea and her father were the only ones out of uniform. He was expected to be well covered, but she realized that her choice of attire was unusual, even for her. In addition to a long, full-length cloak that covered her body from head to foot, she possessed no weapons—a rarity for her since her fight with the massive
Rattus norvegicus
years ago. She focused her thoughts on the present situation as they walked together.

“It is truly the big day. Thank you, Hydra, for all the help,” Andrea said.

“It was a great pleasure, my blue-eyed, brown-skinned giant. Remember, your opponent will assume you will fight to your strength—which is height. The opponent will not expect you to fight from the ground or to use leverage. The opponent will especially not be prepared for you to attack with your legs. You may get one attempt—the earlier the better, before the shock wears off,” Hydra warned.

Perez nodded in agreement, but then thought of a question. If speed, leverage, shock, and awe were the mainstays of her fighting technique, why had she trained with weighted bars, stones, and taken long runs around the planet’s habitat? “Then why did you have me lift all those dead weights, do squats, and run all the time?” she asked.

“Because in case you fail to use leverage, you will still be able to rely on your height and strength,” Hydra said.

“And the fleshy outfit?” Andrea Perez asked. “I take it that is just to distract and confuse?”

“Absolutely. No one will expect to see you attired that way. It will be baffling. I would have had you go naked for full effect, but you are too vain!” Hydra said.

As she spoke, Perez watched her shorter friend sneak a look at the backside of one of the few male Terrans nearby.

“It’s not vanity, but embarrassment. I’m a scientist, not a fighter. It’s bad enough I’m going to have to fight—you’re right, there is no way I would ever have done it naked,” Perez said.

“I think the sparse clothing may actually be more effective. It leaves something to the imagination. Not pretty at all. Today you are not a scientist—you are Perez the Younger. Fighter, warrior, and Earther,” Hydra corrected.

Perez shook her head. They were now within earshot of her father and his team.

“We should be fighting a much bigger problem—like what to do if we need more power for the habitats when tectonic shifts threaten to level Terra. Kind of more important than a family squabble! And doesn’t ‘no’ mean ‘no’?” Perez asked.

“Not when it comes to family honor. I will go behind your father while you and the centurion distract him.”

Perez nodded as Hydra moved a little ahead of her and nodded politely to Dee Dee. Perez was now in front of her smiling father, who was still talking quietly to the doctor and Dee Dee. A well-built man in his early sixties, Anthony Perez was certainly in good shape and more likely had more real-life combat experience than Andrea, but his opponent was a younger Terran who was in peak condition. His combatant possessed a thick, short torso with well-defined muscles and arms that were layered with even more muscles. If her father were on Earth, after his time on Terra with its higher gravity and protein-rich vegetarian diet, he would be as formidable as a well-conditioned man in twenties.

But on Terra, with a native citizen? He doesn’t stand a chance
, she worried.

“Now, remind me why I’m fighting this dude again?” her father asked.

“Because you would prefer to stay with your own clan rather than join the Iratus family. While I agree with your decision, I wish you had come to me so I could have pulled you into mine,” Dee Dee said.

“That would not have worked, Centurion—you are not the one to make that decision,” Medicus Paeoniis, the doctor, said in his deep voice.

“I could have made it happen,” Dee Dee responded. Her worried look was not well hidden at all.

“Don’t worry, Dee Dee. Remember when we took out that team on Earth right before we got here?” her father said.

The group’s attention was suddenly drawn to the center of the arena, where a broad, well-developed, muscular Terran male moved his body surprisingly fast—it was a show of strength, precision, and agility.

“Yes…and the last time we had a skirmish you were battered and shot!” Dee Dee answered.

Perez found herself smiling as she watched Dee Dee’s heavy brows above her dark brown eyes arch and her nose crinkle up.

“Exactly. This young buck will be swift, and I’ll be out. Pretty easy, huh?”

No one responded to his attempt to lighten the mood.

“What a tough room,” Perez the Elder joked. He turned his attention to his daughter, finally stopping his warm-ups and jumping around to address her.

“Now, it’s not going to be pretty out there, so it might make sense for you to wait outside. The doctor is here to put me back together, so there’s no need to worry,” her father said. He took another look at her, then looked carefully at her attire.

“What’s this long coat and hood you’re wearing? Is it a ceremonial thing?” he asked.

Perez the Younger, his daughter, gave him a smile and extended both her hands to rest on his shoulders. His look of surprise was evident—it was unusual for them to embrace. Her father moved to reassure her even more, which distracted him from scrutinizing her clothing.

“Really, Andrea, I’ll be fine. This will all be over soon and we’ll be able to get back to our work. Finally this distraction…”

Perez listened to her father’s voice trail off when his shoulders arched backward—as if he had been struck with something between the shoulder blades.

“Hey! What’s going on?” he uttered before his legs gave way. He would have crashed to the ground but Perez guided him backward as both Hydra and Dee Dee caught him. Medicus Paeoniis stepped back, a needle in his hand. Her father had been neatly sedated.

“Impressive. Very effective, though it needs to be delivered by intramuscular injection. A sharp bite, I am sure. Redness at the injection site is likely. He’ll be out for several hours,” the doctor said.

Without further discussion, Perez the Younger turned to enter the arena. Her friend and young leader of her habitat sector, Dux Cloelius, watched from the center of the ring—along with the waiting combatant. While the Iratus family members looked on in shock, Cloelius simply smiled, unsurprised. Perez heard some shouts from the stands and more calls in the distance—she guessed spectators were calling to passing Terrans to try to get them come watch.

“Perez the Younger, as your father became incapacitated at the moment he entered this arena, the task falls on you to take his place,” Cloelius said.

“She cannot fight him! He is twice her size in width and strength! Mother! We cannot allow this to go on!” Vista said from the sidelines. Her voice was young and, while strong, it still possessed a youthful timbre that made her cry sound more desperate.

Perez turned to see her young friend, the girl she had saved years ago, standing on her feet and pleading with an older woman. By contrast, her mother, Dimitra, sat stoically and with no movement. All eyes watched to see what would happen next. Her lack of expression and involvement were telling. Like many Terran women, she was short, broad, and strong-featured. Unlike her peers’, her expression was unreadable—it was simply blank.

“Mother?” Vista asked again. Her voice shifted from the high tenor of shock to low and submissive.

Perez—and everyone—watched Dimitra. Silence filled the coliseum and the adjacent walkways. The smell of cooked rat meat, rushing sounds from the air vents, and the vibration underfoot were the only sensations. Dimitra cast a look at Vista and pushed her hand down, indicating to her daughter to sit. For just a moment, it looked as if the young daughter might stand defiantly against the powerful matriarch. Instead, she slowly turned around and lowered herself reluctantly to her stone seat. It was easy to see from her expression that she was both angered and worried. Perez shot her a look and a smile to convey that all was well. All at once, the spectators finally began to make noise again, coming to life as if the collective held breath was finally released.

Here we go,
Perez thought.
Let’s hope Hydra’s right about this
.

Perez the Younger turned to face her powerful opponent, then walked toward the center of the octagon. It was easy to see that he outweighed her. While she might have height on her side, his sheer weight alone could crush her. His slackened jaw, though, made her think it was well worth the risk.

“I will take his rightful place, Dux Cloelius,” Perez said.

She carefully backed away, keeping her eyes on her large opponent. He looked both embarrassed and shocked to be fighting an Earther female. It was easy for her to understand her opponent’s train of thought. Perez the Elder had at least been a male; that was why the match had drawn a small crowd. But battling against a female—that was not a noble task.

To add insult to injury, Perez untied her long cloak and hood and, in one swift move, she took it off to reveal her athletic, hairless body. She was covered only by a leather corset, tight leather fighter shorts, and combat sandals. Her bright blue eyes shone in her bald head, and her dark brown skin highlighted the scars on her head and leg where she had been injured during her fight with the rats. The sharp intake of air from all the unsuspecting witnesses unmistakably let her know this diversion had the intended effect. She knew she must have seemed like the equivalent of a bad car accident back on Earth—horrible yet impossible to look away from. After the initial shock and awe, more yells from the stands could be heard. She heard Latin shouts of people calling her a “naked rat,” and “unholy.” At the same time, she heard the spectators ribbing her opponent and mocking his new task. Perez could see the once-empty stadium beginning to fill. Eventually her eyes settled on Vista, whose expression revealed shock. Her mother remained almost as stoic as she had been before—except for a shadow of a faint smile.

“Yes! The horror. Disgust. Revolt. Fear and pure terror,” Hydra said behind her. She took Perez’s cloak away and they both waited for the noise level to decrease. “The shaving of your head—brilliant. Deforming, shocking, a testament of what a child will do for a parent. This event will be remembered for a long time. If he himself goes through with the fight, he will be humiliated, and if you beat whatever stand-in he might have come take his place, it will be even more memorable.”

“So you’re pretty sure they won’t just stop in horror?”

“No. It has gone too far. The sister closest to your age will probably stand in for him. It is about family honor, no matter how horrible you appear. She will not be as well trained as he is, but she will be strong. Your advantage, once we get beyond your vile appearance, will be in your training and your unfamiliar technique,” Hydra said. Perez pulled out a sturdy set of fingerless gloves for grappling while she watched Hydra assessing her opponent—and the growing masses of interested Terrans.

“I will not fight this…this thing!” the Terran male said. Without further discussion, he turned to the head of the Iratus family.

“Does this mean you forfeit your fight?” Dux Cloelius asked. Perez turned to follow what was transpiring.

“No, we do not forfeit. I propose Vorcha, my sister, take my place against this…this thing,” he said with contempt.

As Perez looked on at the annoyed and frustrated Iratus family members, she saw Dux Cloelius struggle to keep from laughing. Vorcha did not look happy. After some finger-pointing, slashing hand movements, raised voices, and angry growls, the young Terran female—a smaller though no less muscular version of her first opponent—entered the ring. Her look of anger and revulsion was unmistakable. She was not happy at having drawn the short straw for this task in front of such a large audience. Perez watched the woman look back at her brother. She pointed one more time and then continued her march to the center of the ring. Her brother stood with his cable-like arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Let us be done with this so we can leave this naked rodent,” Vorcha said. Her opponent by default quickly peeled away layers of her worker's uniform. Much to Perez's joy, her finally layer was a restrictive thermal jumpsuit made for stabilizing heat and pressure while working on external airflow ducts. It was not made for combat.
Timing is everything
, she thought.

“Excellent. This one is angry and thinks she is better than you. She is also not prepared. Her clothing's restrictiveness is your advantage. Strike quickly and without mercy,” Hydra said as she backed swiftly away.