Page 73 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

73

Close Encounters

S adie

We’ve been walking all day, leaping from boulder to boulder in the rock fields, traversing waist-high burnt-orange weeds in the flat spots, then making our way through boulder fields again. I’d been in good shape when they abducted me. I had to be in peak physical condition for the Cirque, but every muscle in my body is screaming in protest by now.

My glutes and quads are the worst, but I don’t say a word. I just suck it up and keep moving.

We stop to consult our pad. We’ve made steady progress, but we’ll be lucky to get to the flag by the deadline. If I had any adrenaline left, I’m sure it would be spiking through me right now. As it is, I just keep trudging.

Our competitors are probably halfway to the flag by now. It will be smooth sailing for them if they don’t meet any unfriendlies. Maybe the big green guy was right when he warned us we were going the wrong way.

“See these things here?” Anubis says, pointing at the screen. “I think they may be caves.”

I’d been thinking the same thing.

“If they are, we can hopefully find one that’s uninhabited and have a place to spend the night.”

“Sounds good.” I nod. The back of my mind is snarking, No, it does not sound good. Sleeping on the ground in a rocky cave and eating nutrition bars on a planet at the back end of the galaxy is not what I wanted to do with my life!

“Sounds like we have a plan,” I say enthusiastically.

The first sun is about to set when we get to the wall of stone we saw on the map. On closer inspection, we see two possible dwellings.

The first is a notch in the rock, barely big enough to huddle inside. It will be better than nothing if we wind up using it, but it’s not what I’d hoped for.

The second looks spacious. Before it gets any darker, we backtrack and pick up some firewood. When I found that perpetual match in my pack that first night, I had no idea how lucky it was that TGN provided it.

We perform a quick inspection of the cave. It’s maybe twenty feet wide and travels forty feet deep into the rock. It’s clear that critters have been here, but I don’t see anything indicating it’s currently inhabited.

We set up our firewood near the mouth of the cave, then Anubis leaves to grab some dead grass to use for kindling.

“Sadie!”

Anubis’s voice is sharp and laced with alarm.

I grab my spear and race toward him. He’s in a standoff against a bear. Bear? This looks twice as big as anything there is on Earth. When it sees me, it rears up on its hind legs. It’s got to be almost twice as tall as Anubis.

Its teeth are dripping with saliva and are at least six inches long. The beast is growling. Anubis and I have spears with three-inch blades.

“I love you,” flies out of my mouth before I can think to censor it. Why not say it? I’ve been feeling it. The amazing male might as well hear it loud and clear, not just a shaky whisper, before his brief life flickers out for no reason other than greedy network execs and the uncaring Feds.

“I love you, too, Sadie.”

I know things are bad when he says that. Not that I don’t want to hear it, especially said with conviction like he just declared, but the Anubis I know would placate me and tell me things are going to be alright if we had even half a chance of surviving this. His sweet confession of love tells me we’re doomed.

Jahzara Zedd

“Oh, yes. I’ve been waiting for this. Finally,” I say to no one in particular in the studio.

I was thrilled to escape the Down to One show with my life. It was a prototype for shows like this that would eventually go wide throughout the galaxy. Through no fault of my own, it failed miserably.

It was lucky I emerged from that debacle with my career intact. That my boss Katann Hahn lost both his job and his life because the show was such a disaster proved to be a boost to my career.

The much larger, much more prestigious Galaxy Network recruited me from anchoring at The Marentine Network. Not only did they agree to the Down to Two show I pitched, but they doubled my salary! The universe works in mysterious ways.

I wasn’t surprised to find the network was deeply entwined with the highest levels of the Federation. Anyone who studies history knows every totalitarian government needs to sink its tentacles deep into the media. What we tell the masses is what they believe. At the price they’re paying me? I’m happy to say and do anything they want.

Looking at me now, no one would know what my origins are. And as far as I’m concerned, I’d like to leave it that way. It takes money to have the lifestyle I want, the lifestyle I deserve. I’ll do anything to get it.

When they told me 1213 needed to be punished on galaxy-wide TV until he expired, I had no reason to ask questions or to protest. I had to look on the Intergalactic Database to remind myself what these things were.

He’s less than a slave. At least slaves have pure DNA somewhere in their ancestries. Geneslaves, or “products” as the Feds like to call them, are just a bunch of protoplasm from animals and sentient beings whose characteristics are desired. It’s thrown into a test tube and a chemical is added to stimulate the DNA to merge. They’re experiments who either live or die. The ones who live are enhanced and become tools of the state.

Super soldiers, that’s what they were bred for. Canines of war. 1213 certainly fits the bill. And every canine needs a collar. This one has a chemical collar.

I’m told it’s just a small ampule inserted under the skin that pumps a steady stream of hormones into his bloodstream. It keeps him docile during his downtime, but can be turned off or reversed when he needs to be released to fight and kill.

I’ve watched and re-watched his performance, or lack thereof, in the bedroom last night. The male who transferred him into my custody was correct when he described 1213 as chemically castrated.

Since I signed for him to be remitted into my care, I’ve been waiting for a good excuse to turn up the geneslave’s controller. The Feds wanted to use him as an example to all the others of his kind. To remind them they were expendable and had to follow orders or they would be disposed of.

I just wanted to play with 1213, put him through his paces, change the settings on his controller and see what happened. Now that I have an excuse—if I’m reprimanded for it, I can shrug and say I wanted to boost ratings—I’m going to have a little fun.

They told me a setting of five was his body’s normal functioning. They sent him to me at a two. Female hormones tamped down his animal urges in order to make him docile and easy to control. They send the products to battle at an eight.

I smile as I turn the dial to ten. Let’s see what this mutant aberration can do when he’s flooded with hormones that turn him into a beast. I hope it makes for good ratings.