It was a scene out of a nightmare. A green lizard-man, 7 feet tall, with a spiked tail and vicious teeth and claws stalked into the room, and the entire arena shook with every step it took.

"Triune crap! It's as big as Titan!" Talisman's whisper was awed. "I thought we killed them all in the Rim Wars!"

"I KNOW for sure it's illegal for a Rim Raider to be here on Georwell!" Demon added. He stood up, intent on doing something.

Dusk wrapped her tail around one of his arms. "Nothing isssss illegal herrrrrrrreee," she spat at him. He jerked to a halt, startled, then remembered where he was, and sat back down.

The human fighter glanced once at the beast, then returned to her preparations, apparently unconcerned. The Rizard stood quietly, its forked tongue flickering in and out of its mouth, and its eyes appeared to flash as its transparent inner eyelids flicked over the eyes to keep them moist. Meanwhile, the staff prepared the cage for the fight. Sand was brought in and thrown over the blood on the floor, and the unconscious body of the last losing fighter was dragged back to the locker room. The announcer used the time to introduce the next two fighters.

"Beings, introducing the so-far undefeated Dary Enile," the human female nodded her head in acknowledgment, "and our latest alien gladiator, arriving from the Rim World just today, Grimuhd, the brother to Grimnir, the former Emperor of the Rim." Demon knew that Challenger himself had killed Grimnir to end the Rim Wars, 14 years ago.

"So, sonny," the drunk laughed at Demon "you're not feeling so damn smart now, are you?" He didn't seem quite as drunk as before. "My Rizard will rip your friend into shreds!"

*****

Demon still wasn't worried. Yes, the Rizards had once been mankind's most deadly enemy, but that was before Challenger had a chance to study them closely, after the war. His mind split. Half was watching the match, which had now started, and half was replaying a training session that had happened about four years ago, when Challenger himself had appeared at the Academy in a 'Know your enemy' session. Dary had been there as well.

"The Rizards are reptiles, and cold-blooded. In cooler environments, they are slower and their movements are stiff. They evolved on a planet that is much warmer than Georwell, average temperature of around 46 degrees Georwellius*. So on our planets they are much slower than on their own."

*On Georwell, they define the freezing point of water as being 0 degrees Georwellius, and the boiling point to be 100 degrees Georwellius, which makes their temperature scale identical to the Celsius scale. 46 degrees Georwellius converts to about 115 degrees Fahrenheit.

Dary moved into the ring and started circling slowly. Demon could see that that the Rizard was moving stiffly. Then she stopped and stood motionless. For an instant, Grimuhd stopped too. Challenger spoke again.

"Their vision is triggered by motion. If you're not moving, they need to use their other senses to see you. Don't be fooled, though. Unlike humans, who get about 90% of our information about the world around us through our eyes, Rizards only depend on sight for about 30%. Their highly evolved sense of smell is more sensitive than that of a hunting dog, and by tasting the air frequently with their sensitive tongues they can easily sense the general location of prey and follow it through environments that to humans exhibit a bewildering array of scents."

The Rizard's forked tongue kept flickering in and out of its mouth, and it turned and oriented once again on Dary. It started shuffling forward again, the tongue continually flickering in and out, and Dary went back to circling.

"Once a Rizard's tongue indicates that its quarry is nearby, its sensitive hearing helps locate even a stationary target. It can easily detect your heartbeat and breathing. Having evolved in a noisy jungle environment, a Rizard can easily ignore background noise and focus on only the sounds of its prey. Swinging its head back and forth helps produce a kind of three-dimensional sonar effect as it builds up a mental sonic picture of the environment around it."

The monster's head swung from side to side, and then stopped, facing directly at its human opponent. It raised itself to full height, roared and lumbered forward. The floor thudded under its great weight.

"A Rizard is much stronger than a human, and the scales on its skin provides it with very effective armor. And the edges of the scales can be sharp! Barehanded attacks can hurt you more than the lizard."

Dary darted in close to the fearsome lizard man and struck several blows at blinding speed, then danced back away. The back of one of her hands was bleeding. She reached to the floor and filled both hands with the filthy bloody sand, kneading her own blood into the muddy mix.

"They have formidable natural weapons of teeth, claws, and they use their spiked tails like whips. Stronger than the legs of most humans, as flexible as a rope, the tail is covered with bony spines that are as sharp as a needle and as strong as an iron spike. Their favorite mode of attack is to run directly towards their prey, then turn sideways and lash out with the tail.”

The spines on the Rizard's tail stood erect, and it stopped and turned and the tail lashed at Dary like a whip. She frantically leaped backwards and almost escaped - a glancing blow caught her in the side. Demon was sure he heard a rib crack, and the spines penetrated even her tough battle-cloth outfit, leaving several puncture wounds.

"Fortunately, the tail is not very effective against a target that is directly in front of and a few feet away from a Rizard. Its own body gets in the way."

She kept moving, now staying directly in front of the monster. The tail was about 6 feet long, but after wrapping around the Rizard's body, its effective reach directly in front of the beast was much less.

"When fighting a human, you might distract him and cause him to jerk away from you by throwing a handful of dust in his face. You can adapt this technique against a Rizard - although you have to be pretty close to make it work."

Dary hesitated just an instant as if waiting for something, then stepped closer to the giant lizard. Moving faster than Talisman could follow, she grabbed the flickering tongue with both hands, squeezing to get as much of the sticky bloody sand off her hands as possible. The monster jerked away from her, and she continued charging, dropping her shoulder and knocking the Rizard backwards.

"A Rizard is not designed to move backwards and if you can somehow get one moving in that direction, it will probably trip over its own tail."

Almost on queue, the Rizard fell backwards as its legs got tangled with its tail. Dary continued to drive forward, and as the beast landed she made sure she landed on top. Before the lizard could respond, she slammed her fists into its ears. The Rizard screamed once and stopped moving.

"A Rizard's most vulnerable spots are its hearing organs. It doesn't have external ears; instead, near the back of the head are two concave depression in the skull that work like dish reflectors, covered by thin layers of skin called the tympani. Rupturing the tympani will produces great pain and disorientation, almost always doing enough damage to at least temporarily knock the Rizard out of the fight long enough for you to kill it."

The referee declared Dary the winner. The crowd was stunned into virtual silence. Betting had been heavy on the alien.

"Not bad" Demon said. "Of course, I would have beaten Mr. Claws without being touched - but I'm the best."

Around them, the crowd started making noise again, a low buzzing of amazement and excitement. They were disappointed at missing the blood and gore they had expected, but they could appreciate a skilled gladiator, too. Very few people would bet against Dary in her next fight!

Demon's neighbor didn't say a word, just dropped a wad of bills on the hero's table as he stomped towards the door. Demon couldn't just let him go. "Told you I was the best, sweetheart. You'll know better next time!"

Chapter 5

The loser said nothing. But once he was outside the arena, he turned to one of his associates. "Go down to the ready room and offer 2 million to the fighter who kills Demon - tonight!" he ordered hoarsely.

The little man didn't know exactly how to find the 'ready room' but he was paid to carry out his boss's wishes, regardless of how difficult they were. He hustled away into a deserted corridor that seemed to go in the right direction. Before long he encountered a very large man wearing the protective armor-cloth outfit of a gladiator.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for the gladiator's ready room. Can you direct me?"

"Why d'ya wanna know?" the hulking fighter growled. "You sure t'aint no fighter."

"My employer, Mr. Tursca, is offering a bounty of 2 million for killing Demon of the Justice Machine. He's in the crowd tonight," the little man said. "I need to tell all the fighters."

"You kin stop looking, ya found me. Go tell yer boss that Talon Madkill is on da job."

"I have to make the offer to everyone - Mr. Tursca's orders."

"Madkill don't want no competition, little man."

The little man shrugged and continued towards the ready area. The big man shrugged and hit the little man in the back of the neck, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. "Madkill only says tings once," the big man sneered, then turned and headed for the arena. Demon was as good as dead!

*****

Brugess walked calmly through the Edge's sophisticated weapon detection system. He could feel the tingling vibrations as the ultrasound scanners made a complete 3D picture of his body, and he imagined he could also sense the complex electromagnetic fields that washed over and through him. Invisible ultra-violet laser beams swept his exposed skin, painlessly vaporizing a few dead skin flakes so that the resulting vapor could be analyzed instantly for chemical and genetic abnormalities.

But none of the Edge's security measures could detect his organic augments, once again justifying their expense. He'd spent just over a year lying in a medically-induced comas in a life-support tank in a hospital as nanites permeated his body, eating some of his cells for raw materials and replacing them with improved synthetic organic substitutes. With organic superconductors interwoven throughout his nerve cells, his reactions time and speed were superhuman, and the synthetic muscle fibers that had replaced about a third of his original tissue gave him enhanced strength as well - and it was all undetectable. All of which was perfectly suited to his chosen profession, mercenary assassin.

Now all he had to do was find his quarry. Talisman was as good as dead!

*****

"Have you ever worn one of these?" Rimba enforcer 'Slicer' Berker asked his new acquaintance, Rebel militiaman Urnl Amizov.

"I did a hitch in Assault," Amizov replied affirmatively. "These are actually scout suits, not infantry suits - designed for speed and agility rather than firepower. Even so, you'll feel like Lionheart when you got it on. Strong, invulnerable, and you can fly - though I doubt we'll be flying much down here!" he indicated the roofed-over docking area. "The weapons will be turned off, but we won't need 'em. If they stick their noses in where they don't belong, the Justice Machine is as good as dead!"

*****

Demon approached the cage to offer his congratulations to Dary, while Talisman studied the information that the table's betting computer was providing about the next fight. He had seen about enough fighting for one day - make that a month! - and was hoping that when Demon returned they could find some other interesting activities offered at Play the Edge.

"Nice fight - you won me a bundle!" Demon said to his ex-classmate. She turned and looked at him coldly.

"Nevin. Or should I say, 'Demon' these days? And now you're a big time hero, helping people in trouble?" She sniffed, then turned away - and turned back. "Or are you still just into helping yourself?" She stomped away and didn't look back again.

*****

In the sub-basement, Urnl was giving Slicer some basic instruction in using a combat suit. They'd started in a smaller room, but Slicer had bashed holes in the ceiling, two walls and the floor with injudicious movements highly amplified by the powered suit. Urnl had been relieved to find that these suits responded to the same command codes he'd learned as a non-com in an armored infantry unit. He'd quickly used the 'rookie override code' to limit Slicer's suit to half power. The Rimba enforcer had no idea that this had been done - he thought he'd suddenly become much more adept at controlling the suit. Even at half power, he'd still be 10 times stronger than any human, and the armor would make him practically invulnerable. Urnl was confident that in his suit, even without training, Slicer could stand against anyone in the Justice Machine except perhaps for Titan - and Urnl was sure that he himself could easily deal with Titan on equal terms in a scout suit at full power. They were as ready as they were going to get on short notice!

*****

'That went well. NOT!' Demon muttered to himself as he headed back to his friends. 'Hope Dusk didn't see it!' His friends were clustered around the table's computer display when he got back. When they looked up, he smirked "She still wants me!" To his relief, nobody laughed at him, but they all turned back to the cage. He looked around, noticed a significant change in the crowd. A change that concerned him a little.

"Nautique?" The beautiful hostess looked up at him. He rotated his finger in a circle, indicating the whole arena. "Did you realize we're suddenly surrounded by street gangs? I see at least 4 different sets of colors and tats. I'm surprised we're not in the middle of a rumble already."

"They wouldn't dare!" she snapped, indignantly, then her expression softened. "You couldn't know the rules, Gabel, but _they_ do. We welcome everyone, even street gangsters, to the Edge, as long as they spend money and behave. They know Rimba keeps order here. Ever hear of BloodSpurt37?" He nodded. Demon's past was inextricably tied to street gangs, and he still had contacts on the street. Half a dozen of the leaders of the BloodSpurt37 gang, one of the largest on Third Continent, had been slaughtered recently. "So have they," she indicated the crowd.

"So why are they here? They don't get enough blood and gore on the streets, so they have to watch cage matches?" Talisman complained.

"Tonight's special." she replied, a little sadness evident in her voice. "In the next fight, they expect to see an ex-cop get slaughtered by a gangster. They're willing to put up with being around other gangs to watch that."

The next fight looked like a big mismatch - a white haired man who was thin and moved stiffly vs. a youngster who couldn't be 20 yet, was built like a tank, and was covered in violently-colored gang tattoos. He was making vicious gestures, drawing his finger across his throat, clenching his fists and twisting them together, mimicking choking motions. The older man stood with his back to the younger, staring blankly at the crowd as they mimicked the actions of the younger fighter.

Talisman read the information about the fight from the table's betting computer. "The white haired guy is Ghon Smif. Military veteran, then he was a cop for 40 years, been retired for 10 years. Got an incurable heart condition, maybe 6 months left. His wife needs an operation and he can't pay for it. This fight will pay for her operation - but he'll probably be killed. Guess he thinks it's a good trade. The other man is named 'Dunga'. I think Dung would be more appropriate - fits his appearance and it's shorter. Doesn't say what gang he's from. Has a thing for killing cops, it says here." The gangsters at the next table overheard Talisman mocking their hero, and their faces darkened with anger. But they kept silent, the recent lesson of BloodSpurt37 not lost on them.

Demon was uncomfortable. Smif reminded him of the older veteran who'd saved him from the streets, adopted him out of a gang and taught him martial arts, and who'd ended up dead at the hands of another gang - which Gabel had then eradicated with his own hands. But his revenge hadn't brought back his adopted father.

"Nautique, I want to buy Smif out of this fight, quick before it starts, and I'll fight in his place," Demon said urgently to the hostess.

"It's way too late, Gabel. The crowd wants Smif's blood. If you even got into the cage, much less beat up 'their' fighter, they'd tear this place apart. His death will allow his wife to live the rest of her life in dignity. Let him die with honor."

Demon knew from looking at the gangster gladiator that it wouldn't be a clean or honorable death -the punk would make it long and painful. He didn't know what to do, and then suddenly, his expression changed from one of doubt to one of determination, and he started to stand up again. Talisman reached out and put his hand on his teammate's arm.

"Gabel, I'll take care of this one," he said quietly, stopping Demon before he could storm into the cage and start a riot. Talisman turned back to the betting computer and bet the entire amount in the hacked Justice Machine account on Smif. If Smif lost, Prosecutor Zarren would try him for theft of Justice Machine funds - and the penalty would certainly be execution. "I sure hope my Karma balance is positive right now!"

Unnoticed by the Justice Machine teammates, a very big man was standing just inside the gladiators' entrance. Madkill watched the foursome closely. If he was any judge of arena fights, and he was, having won almost a hundred, the crowd would be in a frenzy during this match, and he'd use that as cover to approach. Demon was as good as dead, and the 2 million was almost in his pocket already.

In the extremely crowded standing area, Brugess tried to avoid being jostled by the excited crowd of young adults who were waiting to cheer for pain and gore. This fight had better start soon, or he was going to kill some street gangsters for free! He kept an eye on Talisman - it wouldn't do to have his victim slip away now that he'd found him.

The fight didn't start well for Smif. Dunga sprang at him faster than the old man could dodge. Ignoring Smif's feeble blows, Dunga hit him with a powerful backhand slap, and Smif flew backwards across the floor, then hit and rolled, coming to a stop against the side of the cage. The bloodthirsty crowd roared its approval, and Dunga stopped fighting to stomp around the inside of the cage, throwing back his head and roaring as he beat his chest.

To Demon's trained eye, the blow had not appeared as devastating as the crowd thought. The old man had anticipated it and rolled backwards to soften the blow, then slapped the floor hard when he'd fallen to take up the impact. "In his time, he must have been good," Gabel whispered to his table.

Smif climbed to his feet, using the bars of the cage for support, then staggered towards the center of the ring, gasping for breath. Dunga noticed him, dropped his head and bullrushed, planning to crush the old man against the bars - hopefully snapping some brittle old bones in the process. "A first year cadet at the Academy has better fighting skills," Demon sneered. One of the gangsters at the next table had to be restrained by his mates. Demon only laughed.

Smif had anticipated this charge, but even so, even with adrenaline racing through his old withered body, he was almost too slow. He spun out of the way, but Dunga's shoulder caught him across the stomach. He stumbled backwards, flailing his arms, and one of his hands, seemingly at random, slapped the younger man and dragged across his face, grinding a mixture of blood and sand into Dunga's eyes, nose and mouth. The crowd booed, Smif staggered away, and Dunga straightened and wiped his face with his hands, roaring incoherently at the top of his lungs.

"Nautique, I think we need Security!" Talisman pointed to a big man pushing his way through the rowdy crowd towards their table. A gangster protested at being pushed out of the way, then silently collapsed as the big man drove a thumb into the side of his neck. The big man supported the other and it looked to those around them as if the gangster had just passed out from too much recreational substance use as the big fella eased him into a chair. Nautique instantly pressed the panic button on her mopec.

With a heroic, agonizing effort, Smif reversed directions and got close enough to launch a kick towards Dunga's midsection. The street fighter saw the attack coming from the corner of his eye, and he turned and took it on the hip. There was a sickening crack when the older man's leg struck, and Smif fell to the floor, screaming. Dunga easily spun away from the feeble kick. His eyes were now clear, and the crowd sensed that he was going to end the fight quickly. As Smif struggled to his hands and knees, Dunga turned and launched a kick at the older man's head. His plant foot slipped in a bloody puddle as he spun and he fell sideways, hit his head on a bar of the cage as he fell, and crashed to the ground, unconscious.

For an instant, there was total silence as the crowd was stunned. Then all hell broke loose!

*****

"Nautique's called us in, man!" Slicer was nervous about his impending first action in powered combat armor. "She's in the arena and there's some kind of problem with those Justice Machine hotshots. Let's go!"

Urnl had already used the suit's internal sensors to determine the location of Nautique's signal. Back when he'd been in the Armored Infantry, he would have simply leaped into the air and smashed through ceilings and walls to reach his target. The Georwellian Infantry didn't worry much about collateral damage, one of reasons he was now part of the Rebel Underground. As it was, he and Slicer hurried to an elevator.

*****

An amazed cheer went up from some of the crowd - the adventurous few who had bet on Smif (certain they would lose but the long odds and potential huge payoff had made a small bet worthwhile) and those who were happy to see an ex-cop win or a street thug lose. This cheer didn't sit well with some of the losers, and they turned to the nearby people who were cheering and started yammering. Tempers were starting to rise, but almost everyone knew what happened to those who violated the truce enforced inside Play the Edge.

Another group, mostly street gangsters intent on taking revenge for one of their own, left their seats and rushed towards the cage. They would rip it apart with their bare hands if necessary, and then tear Smif apart as well, and anyone else who tried to stop them. Truce be damned!

*****

Deep in the bowels of the giant building that housed Play the Edge, Durble's security monitors picked up the impending riot. He quickly slapped the alarm switch and called his boss again. "Solly! We got us a BIG problem in the arena!" Before Solly arrived, Durble took further action on his own. He slapped a palm plate that froze his monitor on the arena and routed the arena security controls to his own console, then flipped a switch that electrified the bars of the cage. Though he couldn't tell, the effect in the arena was horrifying!

*****

Dunga had slumped against the bars, and the current shocked his body into grotesque spasms. Each time it jerked, Dunga's body broke contact with the bars, and each time it fell back against the bars there was a horrendous sizzling noise and the spasms started again. Seeing this further enraged the other street gang members and that was the end of the Rimba-enforced truce! The first thrown blow was like a spark in a room filled with hydrogen; virtually instantaneously, fighting broke out throughout the room.

In the cage, Smif had watched in horror as Dunga's unconscious body had jerked around, and he could hear the sickening sizzling noise and smell burned flesh, until Dunga finally bounced far enough away that he was no longer touching the bars. The current wasn't meant to be fatal, but no one was supposed to stay in contact with it more than an instant, either. Painfully dragging his broken leg behind him, trying to ignore the agony, the ex-cop crawled over to the body and began trying to restart Dunga's heart. He couldn't just let anyone die, even a vicious foe who had just tried to kill him. Several of the other gladiators spilled out of the ready room and tried to assist him or protect him as required. They glared outward through the bars, daring anyone to come inside!

Meanwhile several members of the group which thought it was storming the cage had been stupid enough to actually touch the now-electrified bars and they were thrown violently backwards, crashing into their fellows and the crowd nearest the floor level. Those that crashed into fights were impartially pummeled by the opposing fighters who then returned enthusiastically to their prior engagements.

*****

In Security, Durble and Solly were stunned to see the horrifying results to Dunga of what was supposedly a non-lethal system to protect the gladiators in the cage from the crowd. Solly frantically slammed his thumb against a panel to activate the main emergency crowd-control system. Motors activated and drove open valves on a row of gas tanks, which spewed knockout gas into the air ducts leading to the arena. Auxiliary fans started up to insure that the gas was quickly dispersed to all parts of the big room. On the monitor, Solly could see patrons' hair and clothes ripple in the strong winds created by the fans so he started arranging a clean-up team, but no one collapsed unconscious; the gas wasn't working! Later inspection showed that none of the valves on the tanks had actually opened. It was never clear why - they had worked in every earlier test, and continued to work without fail in all subsequent tests.

*****

The noise in the arena had risen to an almost stunning volume, a cacophony of people shouting in anger, screaming in fear or pain, and the sounds of fighting.

A group of extremely handsome, expensively-dressed older patrons in business attire didn't head for the door soon enough, and their table was surrounded by a dozen younger men and women in gang colors. The street thugs all had knives. In the Security dungeon, Solly was doubly horrified - the computer's on-screen annotations identified the patrons at the table as higher-ups in the Zucro Syndicate, a Rimba ally from the opposite side of Third Continent, here to negotiate a business agreement. The gang had knives that had passed through the club's sensors - that wasn't going to go over well with Zucro!

"Fancy folks gotta have a lot of loot!" the leader of the thugs sneered. "Lay it all onna table, nice'n'easy, and y'might live ta walk outta da door."

The patrons around the table just laughed. They had all graduated from gangs decades ago. "If you punks leave us alone, now, we'll let you live. Mess with us, well, that's the end of the 'LionKlaws'!" the most elegantly clad woman spoke. She didn't raise her voice, but nobody had any problem hearing her. Perceptive thugs might have been alarmed when an 'old rich woman' read their colors, but they only heard the threat. And it was already too late. They snarled and moved closer.

"Wrong answer," she said quietly. "Too bad you punks never learned about bringing knives to a gunfight." There were several almost simultaneous flashes as the older group fired their previously undetected weapons and the LionKlaws quietly slumped to the floor.

The loud crack of energy weapons produced an instant of stunned silence in the room, followed by a panicked rush of most of the patrons for the doors. The doors became choke points as knots of people built up there, and people started to get hurt in the crunch. The room became even louder with the anguished screams of people trapped in the crowds around the doors.

*****

Brugess was getting frustrated at not being able to quickly find his target. He had expected the punk who'd called in the target to be here to give him directions, but he was nowhere to be found. The assassin vowed to find him later and take a little of his anger out of the gangster's hide. Talisman wasn't in the casino, but Brugess eventually spotted him in the arena. Brugess had arrived just as the fighting broke out, which frustrated him even more. He couldn't use his speed effectively in a crowd -he needed space to get up to his top speed, and he needed room to turn at those speeds. If he crashed into someone at super speed, the collision could be as devastating to him as it was to his unfortunate crash victim. He decided to stay out of the crowd, and use a deadly thrown projectile instead.

From across the arena, Brugess had an unobstructed view of Talisman's table. He pulled a small ceramic sphere from his belt, and threw it at super speed. It would hit Talisman in the forehead with enough force to kill him, and shatter into dust at the same time, leaving no clues to connect him to the murder.

At that exact instant, there was a crack of energy weapons, and a stray beam disintegrated the deadly missile. Brugess swore to himself. The crowd had shifted, and he needed to change his vantage before he attacked again.

*****

Down in the Security Control Center, Solly was now close to panic. He couldn't let that crowd loose in the rest of the club, so he slapped another button. "Is that wise, Solly?" Durble asked, but his boss ignored him. It was by the book, so his ass was covered.

*****

Back at the heroes' table, each member of the foursome reacted differently to the riot. Dusk climbed onto the tabletop and she slashed viciously at anyone nearby who she decided was dangerous. Nautique had activated a highly illegal personal defense field, and she was trying to get in touch with the Director of Security via her mopec. Anyone who touched her shield received a potent electric shock. Demon had his back to the table, counting on Dusk to cover him, and was keeping people away with kicks and punches.

Though Madkill didn't know it, Demon had been aware that the big gladiator was after him for several minutes. Gabel didn't know why he was being stalked, and he didn't really care. He was used to it. When you're the best there is, there's always someone coming for you. Demon had faced them all, and bested them all.

Madkill exploded out of the crowd at the heroes' table, sweeping several falling or fallen patrons before him like broken trees before an avalanche. The tangled mass of people rolled towards Demon's feet. To avoid them, he leaped lightly onto the table top, then leaped again, towards and over the assassin. He used Madkill's shoulders like a pommel horse, and when he was behind the giant he unleashed a powerful kick to the back of Madkill's neck. His foot smashed into the tall protective collar of the gladiator's armor-cloth outfit, and the entire costume instantly became rigid, distributing the force of the kick across the gladiator's entire backside. Instead of breaking his neck, the kick merely knocked him forward to the ground. Demon did a forward flip and half twist, and landed gracefully, facing the table and the fallen giant.

On the table, Dusk oohed and aahed and applauded, and Demon performed a deep bow. "Nothin' to it - Demon at your service!"

Talisman calmly finished his drink and surveyed the chaos around them with amusement. Suddenly he reached out and snagged the wrist of a young man, maybe 20, with a scraggly beard and wearing ratty clothes. He pressed on a nerve center on the man's wrist in a 'come-along-quietly' hold that Demon had taught him, and he was a little surprised when it worked just as his teammate had promised.

"Whatta ya want?" the young man whined. "Lemme go!" He tried to jerk his hand free, screamed in agony. He took a swing at the hero with his other hand. Talisman blocked it easily, then steadied the kid when he stumbled.

"Hey, kid, is that any way to treat someone who's trying to give you some advice?" he asked in a hurt tone. "I ought to just let you go; no skin off my nose when you get pinched as a pickpocket. Lifting wallets will be ever so much easier after they cut off your right hand." Sarcasm dripped from his voice. The kid tried to deny being a thief; Talisman squeezed the pressure point and waggled a finger on the other hand under the guy's nose. "I was watching. You need to improve your technique; some of your marks would have noticed for sure if it weren't for the riot going on, and you can't always start a riot on cue. Unless you're me, of course, but you ain't!"

He laughed, but when the boy didn't see the humor, Talisman sighed. "First thing, though, is your look. When you look like a lowlife, like you, people like me get suspicious when you're around, and then they keep an eye on you. And you're not good enough to lift things when people are watching you."

The kid shook his head defiantly. "Nobody's caught me yet!" he sneered. Then screamed from a tap on his pressure point.

"Except me. Pay attention when I'm talking to you, kid. Get cleaned up, buy a suit, get a haircut, and then practice, practice, practice. Or leave it to the pros," Talisman released him, and turned away, picked up his drink. The kid stepped back, and then when he judged he was far enough away to be safe, he spoke up.

"Triune-cursed old fart. What the frip d'you know, anyway?!?!"

Talisman pulled the kid's wallet from his suit jacket's inside pocket, then dumped it and half a dozen other wallets on the table. Disbelievingly, the kid slapped at all his own pockets and found that everything he had stolen already was missing. "I'm the best, kid. Check with Lost and Found tomorrow if you want it back." He turned back to his drink. The kid stepped closer, then jumped away as Dusk snarled and took a swing at him.

A thug in the crowd thought Nautique looked like fun - but she was with that skinny dude in the blue suit. He'd take out the guy, easy, and then drag off the woman. In this riot, nobody would notice. The catgirl and the other guy at the table were so involved in fighting that big guy, they'd be no problems either. He pulled out an undetectable energy pistol, similar to the ones wielded by the Zucros, and took aim.

From across the arena, Brugess threw his final sphere. He never carried more than two: he didn't use them often, and he'd never before needed more than one. He couldn't believe it when Talisman leaned forward and grabbed the arm of a boy, and his deadly sphere missed again - but this time, it struck something. The young hood who was about to shoot Talisman screamed in pain as his energy pistol shattered in his hand. Brugess howled equally loudly in frustration! He lost his cool, and raced through the crowd at the highest speed he could muster. With his enhanced reflexes, he was able to avoid most potential collisions, but he knocked several people sprawling. Each impact made him more angry.

Madkill had climbed to his feet, much to Demon's surprise, and was stalking relentlessly towards the hero. Demon sprang in and delivered two devastating punches, but the armor cloth lessened the damage done by the blows. Each time the cloth stiffened, Madkill was forced to stop moving for just an instant, which was why Demon didn't use armor cloth. To take advantage of these instantaneous hesitations, Demon threw his billy club at the behemoth, then instantly launched a flying double-legged kick to Madkill's chest. The giant staggered backwards.

Right into the path of the incensed, superspeeding Brugess. Brugess smashed into Madkill's back with the force of a truck, stopping his backwards stagger and driving him forward again, as if charging towards Demon. Meanwhile, the violent collision dropped Brugess stunned to the floor.

*****

Nautique's defense shield was only good for a few minutes and she was getting close to panic - and frantically annoyed with Talisman, who was sitting calmly and, as far as she could tell, doing nothing.

She turned and saw the LionKlaws lying on the floor and she lost her cool. "Talisman! You're part of the Justice Machine! You should be doing something!" She was screaming loudly, only partly because of the noise in the room. "You gotta stop this!"

"Ah - I wasn't sure that old Slate Midnight would be OK with the Justice Machine taking action on Rimba turf - especially considering it's me. Not everyone appreciates me like you do! " Talisman replied apologetically. "Give me a couple minutes - I'll take care of it."

He stood up slowly, then walked casually through the crowd and down to the floor, drawing on his white gloves as he walked. He totally ignored the chaos around him and seemingly random fluctuations in the movement of the crowd opened a pocket of quiet around him as he walked.

By now, the gladiators had vacated the cage - they fought when they were paid to, but they weren't interested in fighting for free! Talisman opened the cage, protected by his insulated gloves, then stood calmly, waiting for Demon to notice him.

As he staggered forward again, Madkill realized that Demon hadn't expected him to charge. Even though he was woozy, he threw a roundhouse punch at the hero, but Demon managed to duck. Then the foolish hero turned his head! He'd left the opening Madkill had expected and waited for, and the gladiator launched another punch, putting everything he had into it.

As he ducked the haymaker, Demon saw Talisman standing near the open cage, smiling. He was distracted just long enough for Madkill to launch his second punch, and he was hit by an uppercut that seemed to blast up from the floor like a missile. Demon was launched well up into the air and back towards the pit. He fell from this ledge to the lowest one, and then rolled off that ledge as well, landing on the floor of the arena, where he lay motionless.

Madkill roared with satisfaction and ran down the stairs to the floor, intent on the kill and his reward. His primal scream was so loud that for just an instant, everyone in the arena paused and turned to watch him. Demon quickly levered up on his arm and spun around, launching a kick at the assassin's legs. His legs knocked out from under him, Madkill fell forwards. Demon scrambled around behind him and pushed, and Madkill rolled forward into the cage. Demon stepped forward to close the cage door and Talisman stepped behind him, shoving as hard as he could. Caught totally off balance, Demon stumbled into the cage and Talisman shoved the door shut. He turned to the now silent audience.

"I'm willing to bet a hundred thousand on the little guy in red and blue," he said, his voice carrying to the entire room. "Any takers?"

Chapter 6

"I'll KILL YOU for this, Talisman!" Demon roared

"Little man, you not be doin' any killin' today, after Madkill t'rou wit you! Dead man can`t kill." The giant turned and charged forward. He was now on familiar turf, and ready to earn his money. He managed to slam into Demon while the hero was still yelling at Talisman, and the two tumbled to the ground and rolled. Madkill's armor easily protected him from the bumps and bruises of rolling on the floor, while Demon took the worst of it.

Demon wasn't reacting well to being in a gladiator cage. After his father had killed his mother, and he'd worn out his welcome in a street gang, he'd been so destitute he'd fought for prizes in cages several times. His inherent hyper-speed had kept him alive but it had been traumatic for a kid in his early teens to have to fight against adults who were trying to kill him in front of crowds who cheered for his death. He was having trouble breathing and his heart was racing as his mind kept flashing back to scenes from his earlier life. And Madkill was taking advantage of his distraction!

The big man lunged forward, and slugged Demon in the head, left, right, left again, and Demon was battered backwards and fell. He tried to roll away, feebly, and Madkill helped him out with some well-placed kicks.

Outside the cage, Nautique was working frantically on her mopec, reprogramming the betting computer information and odds for this new fight. Several members of the crowd checked the betting computer on their tables, and placed bets on Madkill - and after seeing this, some of the others found tables and sat down and made bets of their own. When the big gladiator knocked Demon down, a cheer went up, and more people returned to their seats. By the time Demon rolled away, cleaning robots were trundling the bodies out of the arena and scrubbing away the blood spots, and those who hadn't already run out of the room were now back at the betting tables, cheering wildly as if there hadn't just been a riot.

Urnl and Slicer had finally exited the elevator and rushed through the corridor towards the entrance of the arena. As they approached, an alarm went off in their helmets. Urnl recognized it; somebody somewhere had slapped a panic button and returned full combat abilities to the suits. He was stunned when his suit's combat computer jerked his body around and instantly fired a short-range shaped EM pulse point-blank at Slicer; the combat computer in Slicer's suit fired a similar pulse at Urnl. Brugess, moving too fast for their eyes, and almost too fast for the suits' computers, had just run between them, and the combat computers had determined that the super-speed blip on their detection systems was a potential threat that the human operators were incapable of handling.

As a result of being shot by another suit, the systems in both suits went off-line instantly, leaving Urnl and Slicer encased in form-fitting metal statues weighing over a ton each. Even moving at top speed, Brugess was unable to totally escape the effects of the twin blasts, which interacted violently with the organic superconductors woven throughout his body. He fell to the floor writhing in agony, then passed out.

*****

Talisman was horrified at the beating his teammate was taking at the hands of the gladiator. He'd expected Demon to easily wipe the floor with this guy. He didn't like to fight himself, but unfortunately he'd had plenty of experience with fighters, and he knew that Demon was almost as good as he thought he was. Certainly better than that giant clod Madkill. Something was wrong.

"I have a bad feeling about this.." he moaned to himself as he opened the cage and stepped inside.

The crowd went wild and the betting accelerated as Nautique reworked the odds and added more scenarios. Which of the three would die first? Would Demon and Talisman live more than 2 more minutes combined? What type of blow would deliver the coup de grace on each hero? What was the over-under on broken bones for Madkill?

Madkill didn't seem to see him; the gladiator's eyes were focused on nothing but Demon. The giant rushed forward, and Talisman stuck out his foot. The big man tripped and fell forward onto his face, breaking his nose. When he arose, with blood gushing from both his nose and a split on his forehead, he wasn't ignoring Talisman any longer!

"You tripped me?!?!" the giant was unbelieving. "I'll tear you off your arms!"

"Ummm, couldn't I take a pass on that, big guy? My suits wouldn't fit so well."

"You mock Madkill?" the gladiator roared as he charged at Talisman with both arms stretched wide.

"Uh, no. You pretty much mock yourself." Talisman ducked and ran past Madkill as the giant tried to wrap his arms around the hero. He ran to his partner who was lying on the ground, and shook his shoulder.

"Gabel! This isn't one of those guys who you said 'Even Talisman can beat him;'! I need your help! Oops!" He pushed Demon hard, and the martial artist rolled one way as Talisman jumped the other way, and Madkill charged between them. Madkill reached towards Talisman as he rushed past, and managed to snag one of the tails on the hero's suit, and the suit tore up the back.

"Damn! Now I'm mad!" Talisman turned to face the gladiator, his fists held high in a boxing stance. "You've had it." He danced in and threw a left jab, skipped back, another left jab, skipped back again as Madkill continued to advance, then set himself and let go a straight right to the jaw. It landed with a thwack! Madkill didn't even flinch but swept his massive left arm around in a deadly backhand. Talisman slipped and fell backwards, and the powerful blow thundered harmlessly over his head as he fell to the sand-covered floor.

This broke through to Demon, and he started laughing. Talisman scrabbled around to get back on his feet and scramble out of the way. Hearing the laughter, Madkill turned around to finish off the more dangerous opponent - and the opponent who would produce the best payoff of his career.

"Here's how you do it when you're the best!" Demon leaped to his feet, and threw a straight right. Madkill was too slow to block, and Demon's fist exploded against the gladiator's jaw - and he didn't ignore this punch! His head rocked backwards, and Demon followed up with a spinning kick to the jaw of the staggering giant. Madkill collapsed like a bag of gravel.

The regular announcer had finally returned to the floor and the regular program resumed. Talisman was stunned that the crowd put the violence behind so quickly - or maybe not so stunned, given the makeup of the patrons of Play the Edge. Whatever the reason, except for those who were killed or injured, almost everyone else had found a table and was placing bets. In fact, even some of the injured were ignoring their wounds, placing bets and cheering!

As Demon and Talisman returned to their table, Demon was less belligerent about being pushed into the cage than Talisman had expected. Talisman didn't know it, but Demon was puzzled and considerably embarrassed by the funk he'd shown in the cage. He could take on a dozen like Madkill at the same time and barely raise a sweat, and wouldn't even need to think about a little extra 'Edge', and he'd taken out the big man with one punch and one kick, once he'd broken through that funk. So, whatever it was, that was the last damn time it would ever happen! He was the freepin' best!

"You two made a lot of money tonight!" Nautique greeted them when they reached their table. She was sure by now that the heroes weren't here on business, and that the transaction taking place in the basement was secure -as long as neither hero saw Slicer or Urnl in armor. "Even without the casino! Next time we'll have to keep you away from the arena as well." Talisman brightened considerably at the mention of 'next time'.

"Yeah, about that." Demon was hesitant. "Could you see that Ghon Smif gets my share of the winnings?"

"Why, Gabel, what a wonderful gesture!" Nautique gave him a quick kiss, while Talisman glared at his teammate and Dusk growled deep in her throat. Nautique noticed that Talisman looked apprehensive, but she didn't tell the others that she'd noticed that he had already programmed the betting computer to channel his own winnings to Dary Enile, once their tab was covered. ‘Guess he doesn't want to spoil his image as a jerk,' she decided.

Before anyone could say anything else, both heroes' mopecs started complaining. Talisman recognized the alarm. "Damn! Class 2 Alert from Challenger, we have to get back to the Citadel of Justice!" He favored Demon with an evil grin. "Good thing we came in a hyper, if I bypass the top speed override, I can have us back in 10 minutes!" He turned to Nautique. "Sorry, sweetheart, duty calls! What's the shortest way to the hanger?"

She grabbed his hand and led him towards an exit, opposite the corridor where a team of muscular bouncers with powered lifters strained to get the now unpowered combat suit statues out of sight. "It's too bad you have to go so early. It's been an exciting evening so far. I hope you'll be back soon!"

Demon was following, along with Dusk. "Don't touch the programming this time, Talisman. For a Class 2 alert, Challenger can wait on the autopilot to bring us back."

"You bettterrrrrr be back ssssssssssooon, Gabel." Dusk purred. Nautique led them into an elevator. Dusk turned her back to Demon, bent over and raised her tail. A small spurt of pungent liquid splashed over him. "Thhhhhhat sssssshhhhould keep other girlsssssss away!"

"NOT! ONE! WORD!" Demon glared at Talisman and Nautique, who were choking to avoid laughing.

They reached the hanger. A valet had brought their hyper out and prepped it for launch. Talisman was about to kiss Nautique's hand when she pulled him closer for a real kiss! They discretely didn't watch Demon and Dusk, and then the two heroes boarded the vessel. Demon set the autopilot to return home at a somewhat more sedate rate, and they were gone!

"I don't know if we can survive another evening like that - but it should be fun finding out!" Nautique mused as they headed back to the club. Dusk just ssssssssssighed.