Peace Army (24 page)

He was prepared. He felt both accepting of, and excited by, the challenge.

He remained motionless, as was his way, while waiting for the signal to begin.

* * *

Gee pushed through the group of soldiers standing inside the doorway to the dining hall. They politely parted, allowing him to pass into the room.

The engineer noticed that the tables and chairs had been pushed to the outer walls, where more of Grant’s forces milled. The soldiers—he still marveled that Earth now had soldiers—were lined around the perimeter, two and three deep in most places.

Except for Titan, who stood in the middle, the center of the rectangular room was vacant. Gee then noticed Patahbay standing calmly on the left side, while Grant occupied the right. Gee had seen enough of the soldiers exercising over the past few weeks to know that Grant was stretching his body and loosening his muscles. He was obviously preparing for physical activity, and Gee wondered what was going on.

He strode to where Titan waited in the center of the room.

“Titan, what is this?”

The big man smiled and pointed his chin toward Patahbay.

“
Dindin,”
was his only reply.

Gee’s mouth dropped open. He could not believe Titan would allow this to happen. He of all people knew what the Telgorans were capable of when they fought.

He was opening his mouth to object when Titan cut him off.

“Don’t say it, Gee.” Titan pointed to the Telgoran. “I’ve spoken with Patahbay. He knows not to hurt Grant… at least, not too much.”

Gee shook his head. He had seen the Telgorans when they were absorbed in
dindin
. In a society that shared a mass mind, the physical matches were the primary method for establishing a ranking system or pecking order. When a
dindin
match began, the punches, kicks, and throws did not stop until one of the contestants hit the ground. The first fighter to put his opponent down three times was the victor.

It was serious business that often resulted in serious injury. And that was between Telgorans. “It’s a bad idea, Titan.”

The smile on Titan’s face said it all. He could not wait to see Grant get beaten down. Gee knew what had happened inside Violent’s Prison between the two men. This was Titan’s way of evening the score.

“A very bad idea.”

* * *

As he loosened up, Grant went over the rules of the match. There were few. Pretty much anything went. Put the other fighter on the ground three times and you win.

The soldiers around the perimeter of the room seemed anxious. As former inmates of Violent’s Prison, they were not strangers to these types of physical contests—many had participated in similar bouts. Most had observed Grant in hand-to-hand training and some had gone against him in sparring matches. They knew he could hold his own with any human alive, but the intrigue of fighting a Telgoran was new and exciting. They did not know what to expect. Several shouted words of encouragement.

Grant did a mental run-through of what he knew about the Telgorans. He had learned a lot from Titan and Gee over the past month. He knew some of their key strengths: power, speed, absolute commitment to the goal at hand. He also knew a couple of their weaknesses: indecisiveness and an inability to adapt.

Those were things he could use.

The inability to adapt meant the Telgoran would enter the fray with a predetermined plan of attack and defense. It also meant the alien was unlikely to change his strategy from one round to the next. Whatever Patahbay revealed during the first round would continue throughout the contest. The horror stories Titan told about the Telgorans’ relentless, but doomed attacks on the Minith reinforced the belief.

Grant’s plan was to survive the Telgoran’s strengths long enough to take advantage of his weaknesses.

Regardless of how the contest ended, Grant made a mental note to use only the amount of force needed to win the contest. The Telgoran was a guest and an emissary of his people. It would not look good if the emissary arrived back on his planet with a broken bone or other injury.

Grant nodded to Titan. He was ready.

* * *

Patahbay waited patiently for the signal from Titan to begin. The need for a signal reminded him that he was not linked to the Family. Visual signals were never needed when Telgorans attempted
dindin
.

Titan looked his way as if expecting something. Patahbay did not know what was expected, so remained motionless.

When the signal arrived, he took three long strides across the open space that separated him from the general and stopped. He raised his hands in preparation for delivering a strike and watched as the general approached slowly. Patahbay wondered why the human would come slowly. Speed was required for success in
dindin
.

The general raised his hands and approached.

Good. That is the way
.

When the general came within striking distance, Patahbay flicked out his right arm. At the last moment, he remembered that this
dindin
was not for rank and held back. On his world, the strike would have been considered a lazy attempt.

Here, on this ship, the strike sent the general flying backward. The human exhaled noisily as he landed roughly on his back.

Weak
, Patahbay thought.

* * *

Strong
, Grant thought.

He stared up into the overhead lights as he fought to suck in air. A bright lance of pain coursed through his chest. He felt as if he had been hit by a bus.

And fast
. The right fist had come straight at him, leaving no time to react. Grant was fast, but Patahbay’s reaction was crazy quick.

Titan laughed somewhere across the room. The rest of the assembled soldiers were silent.

Grant knew he would have to stay out of the Telgoran’s range if he wanted to win this fight.

* * *

Patahbay watched with concern as the general rolled to his knees and pushed himself from the ground. He had not meant to hurt the human. He was glad he was able to withhold the full power of the strike. The decision to do so was a surprise. Before leaving Telgora, it was unlikely that he could have made such a decision without approval of the Family.

Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

He did not know.

The general was making strange body movements again. This time, Patahbay thought it was to relieve pain instead of a pre-
dindin
ritual. Regardless, he waited patiently for the human to initiate the second round.

A few seconds later, the human raised his hands and began another slow approach. Patahbay wondered why the human believed that slow was correct, when speed was required.

He decided to withhold more power from the next strike and waited for his chance.

Patahbay was preparing to launch his strike when the general paused just out of range. The human seemed to know how close he could come approach without getting hit. But it did not matter.

Patahbay took a step toward his opponent and lashed out.

The general was quick.

He almost avoided the strike.

* * *

Grant turned his body slightly as the Telgoran stepped inside his range and flicked out his right hand again. The punch caught him on the left side of his rib cage and sent him flying. Grant had time to be thankful the punch missed his already bruised sternum before he hit the ground.

The awkward landing hurt, but he managed to keep breath in his lungs.

A tide of muttered exclamations circled the soldiers in the room. Titan laughed again.

The former leader of Violent’s Prison was getting a real kick out of the action.

Most importantly, Grant had just learned something vital about his opponent. The Telgoran’s attack seemed to rely solely on speed. There was no attempt at a feint or any type of secondary move. It was a quick, straightforward approach designed to hit the opponent before the opponent could hit back.

Let’s see you deal with a bit of misinformation, Patahbay
.

Grant lifted himself off the ground and faced the Telgoran. The pounding in his chest caused him to flinch and he wondered how many ribs the Telgoran had cracked.

Not that it mattered. He had a job to do.

* * *

Patahbay watched the slow approach a third time. The general again stopped advancing just outside his reach.

Would the human never learn?

He stepped forward quickly and delivered a third strike that—

—missed.

The general had been standing there, but now was gone.

Patahbay had only a moment to wonder where the human went when he felt the blow to his chest and his feet left the floor. The next moment, he was staring at the glaring lights of ceiling.

He was unhurt, but he was on his back.

It was the first time he had ever been knocked down during
dindin
.

* * *

He timed the move perfectly.

When Patahbay moved forward, Grant stepped with his left foot and ducked smartly under the Telgoran’s punch. He continued moving and hooked his right leg behind the alien’s knees while delivering a solid clothesline blow across his chest.

Although it felt as if he were hitting a tree, the move knocked Patahbay backward. Grant continued pushing through the move and succeeded in knocking the Telgoran off his feet and onto the floor.

The soldiers in the dining hall went crazy.

* * *

Patahbay did not know how he wound up on the ground. One second, his opponent was there in front of him. The next, he was gone.

He regained his feet and resolved to be quicker.

But the fourth round ended with the same results.

* * *

Grant briefly considered changing up his attack after putting Patahbay down with the same move in the fourth round. But he decided to stick with the proven approach for several reasons.

First, he wanted to see if the Telgoran would revise his strategy to account for the change in the tactics being used against him. If what Titan told him was true about the Telgoran attacks on the Minith, Patahbay should continue making the same straightforward move, even though it had failed twice in a row.

Second, the move he was executing almost guaranteed the Telgoran emissary would not be seriously harmed. And as much as he wanted to win the
dindin
, Patahbay’s safety was his primary concern.

And finally, Grant had at least one cracked rib to consider. He could not afford to take another punch like either of the first two.

* * *

Patahbay struck with a quickness he rarely needed during
dindin
. He abandoned the decision to withhold the power from his strikes. Instead, he concentrated only on speed.

The result of his effort was that he found himself looking up the ceiling for the third time in a row.

The
dindin
master of Telgora had just lost.

To a human.

* * *

Gee poked Titan in the ribs with an elbow.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

The glint in the engineer’s eye told a different tale. It was apparent he had enjoyed the show. The excited murmurings and back slaps that surrounded the room told Titan that Grant’s soldiers had enjoyed it as well.

As for himself, well… he was no longer laughing over Grant getting his butt kicked.

It had been an impressive performance.

Titan shook his head. In his only
dindin
match, he had been knocked down in three straight rounds by a relatively young and inexperienced fighter. Grant, on the other hand, had found a way to prevail over the best
dindin
warrior on Telgora.

Again Titan was forced to admit that Grant Justice, a six-hundred-year-old warrior, was like no one he had ever met.

He hoped the old soldier was good enough to win when they reached Telgora.

Chapter 35

As he waited for Rala to join him, General Soo wondered why his brother’s mate had not selected another male. Seven years of separation was long enough to justify the action. She was powerful and attractive. She could have her choice.

Yet she waited for a lowly lieutenant who was likely dead or stranded on a faraway planet.

It made no sense.

Soo was seated on an ugly metal stool in the center of Rala’s inner courtyard. It was one of a dozen similar stools clustered about the yard. The ugly scattering of seats was a creation of the Waa. For some reason that Soo could not fathom, those pitiful creatures were obsessed by the random groupings of the knee-high stools. The planet was liberally spotted with similar clusters.

He was considering how difficult it would be to tear out all the stools on the planet when he was struck from behind.

The blow that landed on the right side of his head stung, and he rolled with it. He came to a crouch next to the stool just in time to catch the next swing of the staff in his left hand. He deftly twisted the wooden stick and jerked. The move left him with the weapon in his grasp and his attacker face down on the ground.

He spied a second assailant approaching quickly from the right and swung the staff in a low, sweeping arc. The swift strike landed perfectly. The aggressor flailed wildly and fell backward.

Soo stood up and spied his handiwork.

“Not bad, little warriors,” he said. His two nephews slowly picked themselves up. From the looks on their faces, Soo knew they hadn’t expected to be dusting dirt from their knees and backsides.

“I didn’t hear you approach, which is excellent,” he continued. “But you need to plan your attack better. You should both be in position when you deliver the first blow.”

“That’s what I told Teng,” complained Arok, the older of the two brothers. “But he always wants to be the first to strike.”