Page 115 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

115

A Punishment Is in Order

V alor

Willow wasn’t nearly as gleeful when she was changing into the baby-blue coveralls as when she pulled on the scarlet ones.

As usual, when we climb up the stairs to the planet’s surface, the weather is hot and sunny. The two suns are already blazing down on the parched soil, although it’s early in the morning.

Luckily, Gronk is still swallowing convulsively and warily giving Willow a wide berth. I have no illusions it will last, but it’s a nice aftereffect of my psychic assault.

There’s a knot of females about a hundred yards away, each wearing a different color. I assume there are 99 of them.

“Find your teammates,” announces one of the production assistants wearing a shirt with the distinctive Game flag logo.

The prison guards would have never organized things this way. It’s obvious that once we left the cellblock, the network is in charge.

There are three hundred prisoners here. I don’t know about the females, but the males are hardened criminals. It’s not a good strategy to leave three hundred criminals milling about with maybe twenty-five guards. Not if they want the production staff alive at the end of the day. They have no idea what type of people they’re dealing with.

It’s a lucky break for us, though. I use my superior height to scan the group, looking for the female wearing the same shade of red as Braveheart and me.

There’s one of the ugliest females out here. A pale gray Charthian. She has long spikes on her wrists, shins, shoulders, and chin. She’s already ripped her uniform’s shoulders and sleeves with her razor-like spikes. That’s okay. I’m sure Willow would rather wear a torn scarlet coverall than one that matched Gronk’s.

None of the guards or network staff are watching any of us individually. They’re all scanning the area, waiting for an escape attempt. Sidling up to my new teammate won’t warrant a second glance.

She’s as tall as Zedd and looks like she’s done nothing for the length of her sentence except lift weights. When we approach, she looks Braveheart and me up and down and sneers. Does she think we won’t be good teammates? She may be strong, but if she thinks we don’t have what it takes to win, she’s not smart.

“You males are on my team,” she says as if we were too stupid to realize the three of us are wearing the same color clothes. “I need to—”

I hit her with the full force of my powers. I throw everything I have at her, more than what I hit Gronk with this morning. I’m not trying to hurt her, just breach the gates of her mind. To my surprise, she immediately stands down, her muscles sagging as her gaze loses focus.

As she stares off into the middle distance, I say, We aren’t the males you’re looking for.

She gazes around, not knowing what she’s looking for.

To your right, the white shaggy male and his Frain companion. They’re wearing the same blue uniform you are.

She’s ready to strike off toward them when I say, Stop! You need to put these coveralls on.

She begins pulling off her clothes before we can try to shield her from the closest guards. Willow’s tearing hers off in record time.

Both females are dressed again before one of the guards calls, “You there. Charthian in blue. Join your team.”

Carrying her shoes in her hand, she hurries off toward Gronk and his teammate. When I glance at Willow, she’s rolling up the bottoms of her ripped coveralls so she doesn’t trip.

“High five,” Willow says. “I’ll admit, she looked scary. Maybe she’ll keep Gronk in his place. I can picture her backhanding him with that wrist full of spikes.”

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Jahzara Zedd’s beautifully evil face fills every one of the dozen holovid screens ringing the area. They’re held up by drones. In addition to those drones, the sky is filled with smaller buzzing drones.

When Willow sees me looking at them, she says, “There’s at least one for every participant. They follow you everywhere, even when you take a crap. They’ll have 300 live feeds going all day every day. The better to show the audience the kill shots.” She frowns, then says, “And the money shots.”

When I lift a brow in question, she adds, “The Galaxy Network sells Pleasure Packages for extra money. Anything sexual is a money shot. Big bucks.”

“Females and males, we are so glad you’ve chosen to join us for The Game, Down. To. Three .” She says the last three words in the most dramatic way, then waits for the artificial soundtrack to provide roaring approval and applause.

“We’re here on the asteroid Blanterra to provide you with an even more exciting experience than Down To One or Down to Two . Just look at the physiques on these contestants. We have something for everyone. Look at the muscles on these males, and the curves on the females. We’ll show you everything these teams do, from the exciting races and challenges to the bedroom activities at night. I’ll—”

She stops talking and stares at the three of us. Although she’s being filmed, through the magic of holovid there is no doubt in my mind that Braveheart, Willow, and I have caught her attention.

“What’s this? I think someone has manipulated the roster. Uh. Uh. Uh.” She wags her finger at the camera as she flashes the galaxy her sinister smile.

“I could swear the little Earther was placed on another team.” She dips her eyes to the computer on her desk, but she’s not checking her roster, she’s figuring out how to punish us on galaxy-wide vid before The Game even starts.

“Everyone must play by the rules,” Zedd says, no longer trying to force her face into an approximation of a smile. “I think a punishment is in order.”