The Hunter on Arena (13 page)

Braldt held out his hands to the little man and tried to calm him, but Septua jerked away at his touch as though Braldt had
struck him. He avoided Allo’s reach and backed into a corner where he burrowed into the darkness as though trying to crawl
into the stones themselves. Brushing Braldt and Allo aside, Randi knelt in front of Septua, making no attempt to touch him.

“I do not think it is fair to judge us by the treatment you have received in the past. Have we not been true friends and stood
beside you from the start? Do you trust us so little that you would hold back information that might help us all to live?
Come now, Septua, have we not shown ourselves to be honorable? What can it matter what one looks like in such a place as this?
Survival is what matters and if not survival, then death with honor among friends. Do you not count me as a friend, Septua?”

“I wouldn’t be your friend for long if you knew about me,” sniveled the dwarf.

“I do not know or care what you have been before now,” replied Randi, choosing her words carefully. “I know only that you
have been a loyal companion to me here in this place. That you keep my spirits high when I am depressed and cheer me when
I lose hope. What you did before we knew you matters not. Come, my friend, share your knowledge with us, help us to know what
lies before us. Help us so that we may live.”

Septua lowered his hands from his face, wiped his dripping nose with the back of his hand, and turned to look at Randi. His
eyes were bright with tears and hope.

“I could do that, couldn’t I, tell you about them, tell
you what I know, maybe some of it will help. Let us live a little longer.”

“Anything you tell us will help,” Braldt said, crouching down, putting himself on a level with the dwarf. “The more we know
about our captors, the better our chances of survival. Come, Septua, tell us what you know. And tell us why you suspect this
offer of help.”

“I don’t suspect nuthin’,” the dwarf said vehemently. “I know that you can’t trust nuthin’ they says. If they was offerin’
to help, why there’s got to be a trick in it somewhere’s, some kind of joke, on us. They never does nuthin’ to help no one
but themselves. They’re selfish an’ cruel people with no thoughts for anyone else.”

“You say you come from their home planet,” urged Braldt, interrupting the dwarf’s stream of invective. “Is this not their
home?”

“Nah,” spat the dwarf, beginning to regain some of his old confidence now that he had everyone’s full attention and beginning
to believe that he could avoid telling them of his own misdeeds. “Valhalla, that’s where they come from, an’ me too; it’s
a long, long ways from ’ere. This ’ere is where they do some of their business an’ occupy themselves with stuff they couldn’t
get away with at ’ome, stuff like us.”

“Valhalla,” murmured Randi. “Isn’t that one of earth’s old colonies?”

“Yup,” said the dwarf. “Started as an off-earth colony by a Scandinavian consortium way back in 2069. Businessmen an’ engineers
paid for it themselves; the government didn’t ’ave nuthin’ to do with it. Never ’ad
no say in the matter. My grandfolks was part of it from the start. They was tall people. With ’air, too.”

“If they’re businessmen and engineers, then what are they doing here?” Allo puzzled. “This is a very long way from earth.”

“Mining,” the dwarf said promptly. “Leases. The WWG opened this section for exploration and they claimed the whole sector.
They don’t ’ave to answer to no one about nuthin’. They can do whatever they wants and no one is goin’ to say boo.”

“That’s not entirely true,” said Allo. “There is the small matter of the WWG. They cannot possibly condone what is happening
here. It is in direct contravention of every code in the galaxy.”

“We’re a long ways from the WWG,” said Septua. “If they don’t know nuthin’, they can’t say nuthin’, an’ who’s gonna tell ’em?”

“Who or what is this WWG?” asked Braldt, filled with confusion by all of the strange terms and names he had heard, none of
which meant anything to him.

“The Whole World Galaxy, it’s a federation that governs all of the worlds and people of the various galaxies,” explained Randi.
“They make the rules that say what can and can’t happen, otherwise it would be anarchy, the rule of the strongest.”

“Something doesn’t seem to be working right,” Braldt said grimly. “These people certainly don’t appear too concerned about
this WWG of yours—unless this federation knows and approves of what is happening here.”

“They don’t have a clue to what’s goin’ on,” said
Septua. “That’s what got me put ’ere in this place and that’s ’ow come I knows those folks won’t ’elp us none, otherwise I
wouldn’t be ’ere, now would I? Tried to ’elp ’em, said I would if the price was right an’ they agreed an’ everything. But
instead I get caught and wind up ’ere and don’t even get paid!” the dwarf said indignantly, his eyes blazing at the injustice.
“And where were they when I needed ’em? Nowheres, that’s where! So don’t you believe ’em when they say they’re going to ’elp.
We’ll rot here ’til we die!”

“Well, my little friend, perhaps you had better tell us the whole story before the rot sets in,” Braldt said dryly. “There
is much that I do not understand. Share your story with us and then perhaps we can decide what is to be done.”

The dwarf studied Braldt with a shrewd eye. “And why would I trust you?” he demanded coldly. “It’s trustin’ the likes of you
that put me ’ere in the first place.”

Braldt was taken aback, perplexed by the little man’s words and his surprising display of hostility. “What do you mean, Septua?”
he asked. “I have done you no wrong. Are we not friends?”

“You an’ I can never be friends,” Septua replied. “You ’aven’t fooled me none. Everyone knows you’re one of them.”

Keri was stunned to see Braldt standing in the open
doorway. Light streamed into the small, dark cell, blurring her eyes with tears, but still she was able to see that it was
Braldt. She stumbled to her feet and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, so glad to see him that she
was willing to forego any pretense of independence.

“I knew you’d come. I prayed to the Mother that you would find us and come to us and take us from this place. Where are we?
What is this place and how did you find us?”

Only as she asked the question and received no reply did Keri began to realize that something was wrong. Braldt did not respond
to her. His arm did not enfold her and draw her to him as it should have, and his body was stiff and unwelcoming. Nor did
he speak the words of reassurance that she so desperately needed, words that would have told her that he had feared for her
and felt her loss as strongly as she had grieved for him. The silence stretched on painfully, and at last, dreading what she
would find, Keri raised her eyes. What she saw was more frightening than anything she might have imagined. It was Braldt,
but it wasn’t.

His eyes were the same shade of blue, his hair the same closely cropped mane of white gold, his body strong and well muscled.
But the blue eyes were cold and dispassionate and studied her as one might study an interesting beetle rather than a cherished
lover. She searched his eyes for some sign of caring and found none. The eyes remained as cold and distant as a mountain lake.
The man who was Braldt but was not, turned his head and spoke in a language that Keri could not understand, a string of harsh,
clipped sounds that had no meaning. It was then that she noticed for the first time that he was not alone. Her legs grew weak
and nearly gave way beneath her when she saw that the two men who accompanied the first were so like him as to be indistinguishable!

The men spoke to one another, gesturing at her and smiling, even laughing at times. Only one of the men did not seem to share
their amusement or enjoy her distress. This one looked the same as the others, but there was a small difference. Keri was
not certain at first that it was real; she was afraid that it was only imagined, something that her mind devised to keep her
from madness. But then as the agonizing heartbeats stretched longer and longer, she knew that it was true. This one did not
really take pleasure in her discomfort, he was only pretending. Keri could not have said how she knew this to be true, but
she did. Then their eyes connected and she felt the impact of his thoughts, wordless, yet somehow comforting, a message that
said “Be brave, you are not alone.”

She was still staring at the man, searching for some further confirmation of what she thought she had seen, when all four
of the strangers stepped back hastily,
something close to fear written on their faces. Keri looked up and saw that Batta Flor had wakened and now stood behind her,
blinking against the bright light and frowning with concentration. Beast stood at his side.

“Who are they? What do they want? Why do they all look like Braldt?” asked Batta Flor, the words coming thickly.

“I do not know,” Keri said as she stepped back, gladly placing the bulk of his body between herself and the strangers.

“Where are we? What is this place?” Batta Flor asked as he emerged from the small room that had entrapped them, walking forward
and causing the men to step back still further. His action was apparently unexpected for the men seemed alarmed and almost
fearful. One of them fumbled for a long, thin, silver wand hanging from a belt at his waist, but the man Keri had connected
with held out a hand and stopped him, shaking his head firmly. Reluctantly, the man withdrew his hand although he continued
to watch Batta Flor closely.

Keri’s spirits rose. If they were afraid of Batta Flor, then perhaps things were not as hopeless as she had thought. But before
she could share this thought with Batta Flor, two hard ones appeared, moving on silent wheels instead of legs, holding similar
rods before them. Batta Flor jerked back, his face contorted in rage, the first real emotion Keri had seen since his ear had
been so horribly mutilated. He roared in fury and the men scattered like leaves before a winter wind, leaving the hard ones
to face him. This they did with precisely co-ordinated moves, coming at Keri and Batta Flor from both sides,
rods extended. There was nowhere to go but back inside the dark cell where they would be trapped, but even as Keri glanced
around behind her, the doors closed, removing even that unpleasant option.

Batta Flor struck out, one massive fist smashing down at a hard one. The hard one raised its metal rod, and as Batta Flor’s
arm touched its gleaming length, there was a sizzling arc of light. Batta Flor screamed as he was hurled through the air to
smash against the doors of the cell and the stink of burned fur filled the air. Beast whimpered with uncertainty.

Keri dropped to her knees beside him and was glad to see that Batta Flor was only dazed. She lifted the arm that had been
touched by the rod and saw that the fur had been burned away. Where the rod had touched his flesh, an angry weal was forming.
“They burned you!” she cried in dismay. “Does it hurt?”

“It does not hurt at all,” Batta Flor said, his small eyes bulging from his head. “I no longer feel pain. I was only surprised.
They cannot hurt me with their toys.”

One of the men nodded as though he had understood Batta Flor and uttered more of the guttural sounds. At his command, the
hard ones swung away from Batta Flor and advanced upon Keri, rods held out before them like swords.

Having seen what the rods had done to Batta Flor and having no such protection from pain, Keri took several cautious steps
backward. The men stood aside to let her pass. Unafraid, yet unwilling to be parted from Keri, Batta Flor and Beast followed,
growling if the hard ones came too close. But the hard ones seemed content to
trail behind them, brandishing their wands whenever they wanted Keri to move in one direction or the other.

They were traveling down a corridor carved out of red stone and lit by smoking torches stuck in stanchions in the wall. In
spite of the light, the place was gloomy and dank. Occasionally, doors and other corridors opened off the passage, but the
hard ones never deviated from the straight course they had set, herding Batta Flor, Beast, and Keri before them like grazing
animals.

After a long time, the corridor began to slant upward and the rude, stone surfaces gave way to smooth-dressed brick, the smoking
torches to globes of priest fire. In places, the walls were covered with brightly colored frescoes depicting scenes of battle,
generally two groups of four warriors armed with a wide variety of weapons, pitted against one another. As concerned as Keri
was with her own situation, she could not help but notice that the combatants were all different from one another. Some were
people like herself, but those were in the minority. By far, most of those pictured were animals or animal-like, or unlike
any life form Keri had ever known before. She tried to draw Batta Flor’s attention to the pictures, but he was uninterested,
preferring to keep his attention focused on the hard ones, enemies he knew and had good reason to hate.

After a time, they came to the end of the corridor and found only a set of double doors mounted flush against the wall. A
feeling of dread filled Keri. She tried to resist, to stand firm, but at a command from one of the men, one of the hard ones
jabbed Keri with the end of his rod. A bright, blue light sizzled against her skin and she
screamed, nearly fainting from the intense pain that burned like fire and continued to sear its way into her flesh even after
the rod had been removed. Batta Flor was there instantly, picking her up in his arms, cradling her against his shaggy chest
and circling with a massive, balled fist extended, daring them to come closer.