Page 86 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

86

The Promise of a Spectacular Death

S adie

I awake a minute later to see it’s dusk. Crap. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to close my eyes. Anubis has had to carry me far longer than he should have. When I look at the landscape whizzing by, though, I see I haven’t slowed him down.

He’s panting like a racehorse. Carrying me at this pace must have been a hardship for him.

I don’t say a word, not wanting to break his concentration. It’s close to sunset. He needs to give every bit of his attention to putting one foot in front of the other to get to the flagpole on time.

I see it! Up ahead, the flag with the awful Game logo is waving in the breeze. Usually we have two drones intrusively recording our every move, but now there’s a little flock of them on all sides of us jockeying for the best angles. They wouldn’t be so interested if we weren’t down to the wire.

I want to tell him to hurry, but somehow I know that would be counterproductive. The less he worries about me, the less he even thinks about me, the better.

Four of our new friends are standing near the flag. For a moment, I wonder if the rules have changed. Are they going to step between us and the finish line? Delay our progress by starting a fight?

No. They’re urging us on. I absently wonder if I would be so generous if the tables were reversed. It all comes Down to Two. If we beat the deadline, they have more competition.

“Twenty-five seconds,” the red female Halckon yells.

“Twenty,” says her partner.

“Hurry!” urges the big green male, who seems to always have a kind word to say to everyone.

Just as his partner says, “Five seconds!” Anubis touches the flagpole.

“Touch it!” They all shout at once.

I’d forgotten Zedd told us about that rule.

I slide off Anubis’s chest and touch the pole, fearing Zedd would add the rule that I had to be standing.

My hand is firmly holding the metal pole when one of the production assistants yells, “Time.”

I’m still weak and tired, even though Anubis is the one who’s been running for miles carrying my dead weight. As he scoops me into his embrace, I almost cry with relief.

Jahzara Zedd

“You had one fucking job to do,” my Federation contact yells in my ear. “The geneslave was supposed to die horribly. His entire barracks weren’t fighting as well as I wanted. He was to be a lesson to all the other products. To motivate the others.”

I mute the sound from the vid feed and put my full attention on placating this pompous bastard.

“Commander Pleer, do not fret. This was all part of my plan,” I lie. I’m talking slowly, trying to keep one step ahead of him as I make things up.

“I wanted the whole galaxy to see what a great job your division is doing. Who could have watched him kill that cave bear single-handedly or down that flying lizard with a three-inch blade and not realize what amazing living weaponry you’ve developed?”

He preens in response to my praise. I’m definitely on the right track.

“That’s why I turned his controller up to ten,” I boast.

“You turned it to ten? He can’t think when it’s cranked up that high, can’t speak. The whole galaxy will think we created a race of muscular idiots. Besides, if he stays at ten too long it will kill him.”

“Don’t worry. His performance was impressive. Besides, I planned ahead. His death tomorrow will be, and I quote, spectacular.”

There, I hope I’ve assuaged him.

“Spectacular, Miss Zedd? I’ll hold you to that.”

I breathe out slowly through pursed lips after he terminates the comm, although I don’t know what I’m worried about. I’ve already assured the geneslave’s doom. And it will be spectacular.