Page 158 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

158

And the Winner Is…

B raveheart

I didn’t need to watch Willow almost die to know how much I love her. My feelings for her have been clear since I wanted to kill Kalletta when he reached through the bars and attacked her within minutes of her entering our cell that first night.

What did just become clear was how fucking brave and strong she is. She’s the smallest competitor. The weakest. Yet she got more cellots than any of those other females. Even after she was bitten, she kept gathering the fruit.

We’re still standing near the snake tank. It smells like old, dead bodies. You’d think the stench alone would have kept her from sticking her beautiful head in that tank, and yet she did.

Now here she is, passed out in Valor’s arms. At least I hope she’s passed out and not dead.

“She should be fine,” the medic says as two armored guards drag him away.

Did you make him do that? I ask Valor.

Aye. It didn’t take much convincing, but I nudged him over the edge from indecision to action.

I can’t blame him. Using his psychic powers saved her, saved all of us.

I want nothing more than to take her to our tent and tend to her, but the competition isn’t over. Our team won. There’s no doubt about that. But the medic’s interference kept her alive. Will they disqualify us?

Jahzara Zedd

Damn it. Usually, decisions come easily to me. I have one criteria—what plan of action will serve me best. Right now, though, I’m at war with myself.

I dislike the little Earther, just as I dislike all Earthers. That bitch Blaze from season one manipulated me and I haven’t forgiven her for that. It was only by a stroke of luck the network execs decided to take their wrath out on my boss rather than me.

Then the Earther on season two managed to manipulate the finale, so three teams won instead of one. I know, I’m the one who said any who arrived at the finish line could live, but I thought I’d rigged it so no one would win. I blame it all on Sadie, another Earther.

Now public opinion is clearly in this female’s favor. The numbers overwhelmingly indicated they wanted her to get the anti-venom. Yet I ordered my staff to show the opposite on screens all across the galaxy.

Okay, Jahzara, think. Do I want to let my personal desire to hurt the Earther win out over better ratings for tomorrow’s race? Well, when I put it that way, it’s obvious what I should do.

“Females and males,” I announce as I place my hand to my earpiece as if I’ve just received startling news. “I’ve just been told there was a terrible mixup in the production booth. Scarlet’s numbers were reversed. The little Earther was supposed to get the lifesaving medication. The medic was told that, yet the numbers didn’t come up accurately on your screens.”

Even as I announce this, I’m considering how to punish the medic for taking this decision into his own hands.

“What a stroke of luck the medic did the right thing. It looks like the scarlet team wins. Tell me, which team do you want to eliminate?”

The big geneslave with the third eye that’s swirling black and blood red looks at me for the longest time, as if he’s having an internal discussion.

“That decision should be Willow’s,” he says. “Since she’s unconscious, I leave it to you to decide.”

He looks angry, as if he just did something that would hurt me. Does he not know I love situations like this? Determining whether someone lives or dies? I live for this.

I make a show of looking over the roster. Again, all decisions come down to money. Which team has generated the least interest, the least tributes of money, and who did worst in tonight’s competition?

“I hate to do this. I’m just the announcer. Having to make a decision like this will keep me up nights for a year,” I whine. “Umm.” I drag this out to garner the most sympathy. “The midnight blue team.”