Post by dans on Jun 17, 2017 1:58:47 GMT
Introduction
In an alternate dimension to ours exists a world, in some ways very similar to Earth (in others, quite different), named Georwell. Georwell is the capital planet of a small interstellar empire, the Georwell Imperium. Though the Imperium comprises many species, it is ruled by humans. Our story begins in the megalopolis of Martel, a sprawling city that almost entirely covers First Continent on Georwell the planet. The Imperium is ruled from the District of the Council (DC) in Martel, and in DC is the Citadel of Justice, the headquarters and fortress of the famed Justice Machine, revered Heroes of the Imperium. Five paragons of virtue who embody the ideals which are the birthright of every Citizen of the realm. Five good little soldiers who always fight the good fight.
In the depths of the Citadel of Justice, two of these mighty champions prepare for their next hazardous challenge.
A solidly-built man with long straight black hair and a mustache, his hair held back from his face by a brown headband. He wears a blue body suit that leaves his chest bare, set off by red gloves and thigh-high red leather boots. Emblazoned in yellow on the thigh of each boot is a stylized icon, a slightly sinister horned head, letting everyone know that this is the deadly martial artist, the Demon (Gabel Nevin), self-styled fastest man on three worlds.
A taller, lanky man, with longish well groomed dark brown hair and a flawlessly-trimmed van dyke beard and mustache, wearing an extremely expensive, impeccably tailored dark blue suit. This is Talisman, the newest, most enigmatic member of the Justice Machine.
Chapter 1
Demon had just finished cleaning up after a workout and was headed to dinner when Talisman hurried to catch up with him in the corridor leading to the mess hall.
"Hey, Gabel! I finally satisfied Challenger and got off extra-duty assignments," Talisman said to his teammate with a smug grin. Demon couldn't let it go at that.
"You're dreaming, Talisman. I saw today's report; you failed hand-to-hand... again. Zarren interrupted the bossman before he could issue the extra training order, and Jaiime must have forgotten. It must be tough losing your mind when you get that old," he pretended sympathy with Challenger's aging problems. "I guess I'd better go remind him."
"C'mon, Gabel, you wouldn't do that to a buddy, would you?" Talisman wheedled as his face fell. "I haven't even been outside the Citadel since we got back from Zamyatin. And we were penned up on the Indefeasible for almost a month before that!"
The Justice Machine had recently returned from a mission to a secret military base in a dome on the gas giant planet of Zamyatin. The dome had been even more cramped than the starship that had transported them there, and going outside the dome while wearing environment suits in a deadly ultra-high-pressure atmosphere whipped by hurricane-force winds, with gravity almost 3 times normal and the temperature about 200 degrees below freezing hadn't provided any relief.
"If you promise never to call me 'buddy' again, I'll let it go,” Demon snarled.
"What a pal! Say, I heard a lot of stories about a gray casino over in Vanguard City. The best games, the best booze and drugs, the best food - first class all the way!" 'Gray' indicated an establishment run by an underworld figure who usually made lavish payments to the local authorities in order to operate openly. This put the local Terror Troopers on the side of the establishment, which meant that local residents rarely complained, and never more than once!
"What about the women?" Demon asked. "I'm not interested in food or games!"
"All citizen-approved!" Talisman responded enthusiastically, using Georwellian slang for 'Nothing but the best'. "Let's get moving before Challenger catches up with me!"
"What's wrong with the Mystic Pyramid right here in Martel? We could be there in a half hour. It'll take us a couple hours on the ballistic shuttle to reach Vanguard City."
Talisman wasn't welcome in any club in Martel, especially the Mystic Pyramid operated by Dulcachan! He didn't think Demon needed to know this, though. "I'll order us a hyper," one of the Justice Machine's hypersonic fliers, which were always standing ready at the Citadel of Justice "and we can be there in under 15 minutes". Vanguard City was over 4000 miles away, across the Torrentic Ocean on the Third Continent, but a hyper could reach any spot on the planet in half an hour.
"You'll be in the crapper with Challenger when we get back for hacking into the Citadel computer system," Demon warned. Actually, the opportunity to piss off Challenger, and see Talisman in deep $#!*, sealed the deal for him.
"When am I not in the crapper around here?" Talisman wondered philosophically. "Can we hurry? Even my luck can't keep Challenger away forever!"
*****
"Triune Crap!" Demon staggered out of the hypersonic flier into the top-floor hanger of the Play the Edge casino. "You almost killed me!" He retched. His face was greenish and he had to lean against the wall just to stay on his feet. "Next time <gasp> we borrow one of the duty pilots instead of <gasp> letting you reprogram the autopilot!"
"Who knew you had such a weak stomach?" Talisman crowed. "We were only in the air for," he paused, and looked at his watch dramatically "13 minutes and 14 seconds." They'd come over 4,000 miles in that time, and even with the most advanced inertial dampeners available to Imperium science, it had been a rough ride - for Demon, at least. "You should take one of these," he held out a pill "…prevents nausea. Actually," he sounded apologetic "you really should have had one before we left." His chuckle proved he wasn't sincere.
Demon grabbed the pill and instantly dry swallowed it, before his stomach could roll over again. "You don't have to worry about Challenger," he tried to snarl, but it came out as a squeak. "I'll kill you myself, as soon as I feel better!"
Suddenly, he looked like a bomb had gone off in his stomach. His face expanded and his eyes opened wider than anything Talisman had ever seen before, his cheeks bulged out - and it passed.
"Wow! What was that stuff?" Instantly, Demon felt much better, although still very weak.
"Underworld secret, pal!" Talisman laughed heartily. "I sure wish I had a picture of that!"
Demon took a swing at him, but he was still slow, and missed by a mile. "I told you never to call me 'pal' again."
"You said 'buddy'," Talisman complained as he ducked. "You distinctly said 'buddy'. The security tape will prove it."
"This better be a damn good club!" Demon replied, as they entered the elevator to the lobby.
*****
"I wish you'd taken the time to put some clothes on," Talisman complained to his teammate on the elevator. "I was hoping to be inconspicuous"
"You don't have to worry about that, 'pal'. With me around, nobody will even notice you!" Demon stood up straight and stuck his chest out. "Why hide. this? You watch, the women will be all over me!"
"Man, now I need one of those nausea pills," Talisman groaned. Demon glared at him, but at just that second, the door slid open, letting in the sounds of the club.
Chapter 2
In a darkened room not far away, a dozen beings watched scenes flicker across the screens of a hundred video monitors. One of the watchers pressed a couple of buttons, then called the floor boss. The image from the elevator flicked from a small monitor on the console to a much larger monitor on the wall, and the security computer superimposed written information and targeting circles on the images of the men on the elevator.
"Solly! We got us a problem. Them two guys are from the Justice Machine - Demon and the new guy, what's-his-name. Computer's locked on 'em now."
"So, dat's Demon, huh? Kind of a pretty boy, ain't he? He sure don't look dat tough." Solly had been a noted brawler when he was younger, and he never let his crew forget it. But he knew his job, too. "I better let da Boss know. Sorta suspicious, dem showing up t'night of all nights, eh?" He moved off towards a communication console. "Keep the big screen locked on 'em, Durble, while I tell da Boss."
*****
The elevator exited into a recessed niche in a large luxurious lobby. Artful placement of marble columns, large plants, plush furniture and free-standing sculptures broke the room up into many smaller, more intimate spaces. The floor was brightly polished marble, dotted with deep-pile area rugs. The marble walls sported fantastic artwork. The wealth required to furnish and decorate this room was stunning! There were a lot of people standing, sitting or lounging in the various spaces, though the room's design was such that it didn't feel crowded. Barely costumed attendants mingled with the crowd, providing food, drinks, and pharmaceuticals.
"This is just the kind of place where I feel comfortable," Talisman said. "Almost like they designed it with me in mind."
"Oh, yeah!" Demon agreed enthusiastically, his eyes wandering over the many attractive women. He couldn't help staring at one particular attendant, an almost-human catgirl, as tall as he was, with a lithe figure, covered with short calico fur. She wore a micro-miniskirt and lace-up vest that barely concealed her 4 breasts - which surely must have been surgically enhanced. She had a prehensile tail and was very social, using her tail to casually caress her customers as she served them.
A beautiful black woman in a floor length gown, low cut in front and back, so white it almost glowed, glided gracefully across the floor and extended her hand. "Mr. Nevin," Demon shook her hand. She turned "Mr. Talisman. I'm Nautique, the hostess."
Talisman took her hand, bowed, and brushed his lips across her fingers. "I'm enchanted, my dear." A pleased expression flashed across her face. She gently squeezed his hand before releasing it.
"Welcome to Play the Edge, gentlemen. It's a rare honor to host members of the Justice Machine." She smiled broadly; her teeth were as white as her gown.
'I'll bet its rare - like, never happened before!' Talisman thought to himself. He couldn't see Challenger, Diviner or Titan ever coming to a place like this. 'And, since she knows who we are, it's probably the only bet I'll get to make all night.'
He was right. "Mr. Talisman, I apologize, but the game rooms aren't available to you. I'm afraid your reputation proceeds you." She turned to the catgirl Demon was watching and snapped her fingers. "Dusk!" She turned back to heroes. "But Dusk will guide you through the rest of the club. Play the Edge has much more to offer than just gambling." For the briefest instant, a puzzled expression flashed across her face. "Excuse me, just a moment." She floated gracefully towards a privacy nook and activated the nook's silent privacy shield. She could still be seen, but no one outside the nook could hear what she might be saying.
"Can I ssstart you gentlemennnn with ssssomething to drink?" Dusk purred. Demon found her soft, throaty voice even more sensual than her appearance.
"Euvian Stout" Euve was a large, mountainous island far from any of Georwell's continents, whose remote location had saved it from being subsumed by one of the giant cities that had submerged each of the three continents. Euvian Stout was legendary among the citizens of Georwell, though it was so expensive that few people outside of Euve actually ever got to taste it. Dusk winked her approval and turned to Talisman. With her back to Demon, her tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, gently caressed one of his ankles.
"Do you have Quialmian Champagne?" Talisman asked, a very elegant, expensive beverage imported from off-planet. "Bring me two flutes, please. Perhaps Nautique will join us." Dusk hurried away, her tail brushing Talisman as she passed him.
"You're buying a drink for the hostess? What are you, nuts?" Demon demanded.
"I think she likes me, Gabel!" Talisman replied, turning to watch Nautique as she spoke with someone via her mopec (mobile personal computicator, the Georwellian equivalent of a cell phone/personal digital assistant).
"You've got the same chance with her as I have with Diviner!" Nevin responded scornfully. "She's paid to make you think that."
"It's more than that!" Talisman insisted.
"By the way, how are we paying for this?" Demon interrupted. "I don't think Challenger pays us enough to even cover the drinks!"
"Don't worry - I tapped one of the Justice Machine's discretionary accounts and tied it to our JM ID cards for the night. We're flush."
Dusk arrived with their drinks; Demon noticed she'd brought one for herself as well. Nautique returned a couple of seconds later, and her body language indicated that she wasn't too happy. Talisman held out the second flute of champagne. "Join us for a drink? Quialmian Champagne."
"Thanks!" She accepted the drink and took an appreciative sip. "Normally I couldn't - I'm not allowed to drink with guests while I'm on duty. But somebody messed up tonight's schedule, and it's Wendaekyn's night." She pointed to an extremely beautiful woman who might have been her negative twin: almost an albino complexion, with bright red hair, wearing a black gown. Somehow, while Nautique projected warmth and friendliness, Wendaekyn projected aloofness. "Even though I've got seniority, she's sleeping with the Boss."
"Always the way, isn't it?" Talisman sympathized. "Would you care to join us for dinner?" he asked graciously. Demon was surprised; he'd never known his teammate to be other than a jerk.
"Why not? Suddenly I'm free this evening. Shall we?" She took Talisman's arm.
"A fortunate coincidence. What a surprise!" He didn't look at all surprised as he smirked at Demon, then let Nautique guide him towards the dining room. Demon shrugged, then imitated his teammate and offered his arm to Dusk. She took his arm, and her tail wrapped around it as well.
Neither hero was paying much attention to the club's other customers as the foursome left the lobby. But they were noticed - or at least one of them was. As they passed a quiet conversation niche, a poorly groomed, rather beat up looking young man wearing an poorly fitting but very expensive suit did a classic double-take as he saw Talisman. He leaped from his seat, knocking down the attendant who had been bringing drinks to his group. "Clumsy logi!" he cussed as he kicked the man in the head. "You buying dose drinks, not us!" He rushed into a privacy nook and placed a mopec call.
"Mugga, it's Manse." Manse was a member of the KrunKs street gang in Martel, spending the loot (and wearing a suit) he'd stolen in a recent caper, and Mugga was the highest ranking KrunK Lord he knew. "I'm inna Play t'Edge club inna Torn'tic Distrik of Vanguard City. Tat guy Talisman we's lookin' for? He's here!"
There was a grunt of satisfaction from the other end, then silence. Manse hung up. "Whatta lucky break!" he congratulated himself.
*****
This was the first time that Demon and Talisman had appeared in public for personal reasons since joining the Justice Machine, and they were surprised by the reaction they generated. As they entered the large, crowded, noisy main dining room, a hush developed, spreading slowly away from them as people turned to stare. As they walked towards their table, the murmur of conversation slowly started up again, though they remained surrounded by a moving bubble of silence.
"The last club I was in, they threw me out!" Talisman commented, a big smile on his face. He was definitely enjoying being recognized.
"Why Mr. Talissssmannnn" hissed Dusk. "who could everrrr think of sssssuch a thing?"
Demon was less comfortable with the public reaction than he'd anticipated, and was happy to have a chance for a wisecrack. "Only everyone who knows him, babe!" he chuckled.
As they sat, Talisman noticed a large group at a table nearby hastily leaving. He looked more closely, and realized that they were leaving their meals largely untouched. He turned to Nautique. "What jerks! Do we smell or something?"
She was apologetic. "You surely understand that not all of our clients will be comfortable around members of the most elite law enforcement team in the Imperium?" Talisman found this charming; no one had ever referred to him as 'elite' before.
Before they had placed their order, the room was at least a third empty, and Demon had noticed several groups which had entered the room, spotted them, then turned and left. His annoyance at this was offset by the number of admiring glances he got from the remaining female patrons. If he hadn't been with Dusk, he was sure he could have had his choice of any woman in the room, whether she was with an escort or not.
As it was, the sexy catgirl was hanging on his every word. She seemed to find his stories about fighting, and in particular, his own battle skills, especially fascinating. Fine with him; he had a lot of those! "Prosecutor Zarren knows that Challenger's getting too old to be effective, so he recruited me to take his place as leader of the Justice Machine. I just hope the old man has the sense to get out before he gets hurt or killed!"
Her eyes got wide at that. "The nexxxxt leaderrrrrr of the Jussssticccce Machhhhhhine! You musssst beeee a grrrrrreat fighterrrrr!"
"The best" he said modestly. He glared at Talisman, who might have been just about to mention Demon's recent encounters with Lionheart and the two Challengers. Fortunately for one of the heroes (you decide which one!) Nautique joined the conversation.
"Talisman, why were you asked to join the Justice Machine? Demon and Challenger are great fighters, Titan can grow to giant size, and Diviner has her super senses, but what does a reformed gambler and con man, regardless of your undeniable charm and considerable style, bring to a group of government heroes?"
"Funny you should ask that!" Demon chimed in. "The rest of us wonder about that too - all the time!"
"Shut up, Demon!" Talisman said. He wasn't surprised that Nautique didn't know about his karma-based power. Challenger insisted it would be more effective if their enemies didn't expect it. Well, he wasn't going to give anything away. "Frankly, though Challenger is still one of the most knowledgeable computer experts alive, his knowledge is getting out of date. Prosecutor Zarren wanted someone younger with better knowledge of the more current developments in computers and cybernetics. And since I joined, Challenger has realized that I'm a superb tactician, and he's come to rely on my advice in all our battles. It was my tactics that defeated the nahman on Kurnnegut!"
Demon coughed, then changed the subject. "Nautique, you mentioned that Play the Edge has more to offer than just the casino?"
"If I can't get into the casino, is there anything else I can bet on?" Talisman added, wistfully. Any place his power could enhance the odds in his favor.
"I think we have something both of you will enjoy," she responded. "We have some cage fighting tonight. It always draws a large crowd, and the betting is always heavy."
"I rrrrrreally love watchhhhing!" Dusk purred before the heroes could respond.
Demon laughed. "Cage fighting it is! Maybe Talisman will learn something."
*****
As Nautique led them down a corridor, they could hear crowd noises growing louder. As they got closer, they realized it didn't sound like the kind of noises they would expect to hear from the gallery of a fighting arena - instead of screaming and cheering there was a lot of booing and moaning.
"I've never seen a cage match where the crowd booed!" Demon commented. "Must be both guys don't want to fight." He didn't look pleased.
"That's not the arena" Nautique smiled at him. "That's our comedy club. We've got a new comedy team making their first big-time appearance tonight. Should we stop and listen for a few minutes?"
"Why not?" Talisman asked. "We don't get many laughs in the Citadel of Justice around Prosecutor Zarren."
*****
"I'd like to introduce my partner," the male member of the comedy team told his audience. "I met her in a comedy club in the 'Astro City' District". Astro City was around 600 miles from the Torrentic District. "I asked her name and she said 'I'm Draeci'. I told her 'That's a name you don't hear every day'. She said 'Actually, I do.'" the male comedian paused for a beat, perhaps waiting for laughter, which didn't come.
"Dirv and I spent some time getting to know each other before we started doing comedy," the woman spoke up "Actually, he spent a lot of time telling me about himself, but he finally redeemed himself. He said 'I'm sorry, I really should give you a chance to talk. What do you think about me?' How's that for a thoughtful guy?" At least the women in the audience applauded for this, but the men groaned.
"I'd rather listen to Zarren!" Demon yelled. Talisman agreed, and they continued on their way to the arena.
Chapter 3
A few minutes ago, back in the lobby…
Manse came out of the privacy nook, and one of the attendants stopped in front of him. "Your drink, sir!"
Manse stopped - he hadn't ordered a drink, but what the heck, he deserved it after the attendant had dropped his last one. As he reached for it, something touched him on the side of the neck from behind and his body stopped responding. Without a sound he started to collapse. Another attendant had come up behind him and touched his neck with a device that looked like a pen. The two attendants caught him before he could fall, and supported him as they walked out the back door.
"Too much recstim," they told the only patron who noticed. "We'll take care of him." The patron turned away, pleased to know that the club took such good care of its customers, even when they made disgusting fools of themselves with recstim.
Manse was taken outside the rear door into an alley and dropped abruptly to the ground. His head bounced off the pavement, and he heard something crack, but his body was numb and he couldn't feel anything. One of the attendants pulled out a knife, and Manse was sure he was dead, but the man only sliced his clothes into shreds.
"Hey, Jak! Check out this tat' - he's a Krunkpunk!" the man told his partner.
"I guess he forgot he ain't on Krunk turf tonight. So, crud face, when you was just a local jerk-off, we was just gonna dump you out here as a lesson in manners. But seen'n as you's a Krunk, we got a message for you ta take back home wit ya! Da Krunks ain't welcome here, starting wit you." He pressed a button on his wrist mopec and almost instantly, a team of very tough-looking bouncers showed up. "Dis guy's a Krunk - and he kicked Frek in da head. I thought maybe you's guys cud send him off wit a little warnin' for da rest of da Krunkpunks?"
One of the bouncers kicked Manse in the head. He didn't feel a thing. "Da Edge and Torrentic District are Rimba territory, Krunkpunk - and you and yer pals better member dat da next time!" The bouncer turned to the waiter. "Frek's ok, so we won't kill dis guy." He and another bouncer picked up the Krunk's limp body, a third opened the lid on one of the dumpsters. "In ya go!" They dumped him inside and just before his head disappeared beneath the semi-liquid slop, one of them touched him again with the pen-like device. He could move again, and unfortunately, he could feel the terrible torturous pain in his head. The dumpster slammed shut, and the back door of the club slammed shut, locking the naked, garbage-covered screaming Manse out of the club and the rest of our story.
*****
A group of men was seated around a table in the opulent main dining room in the Play the Edge club. Their meals had just arrived when one of them spotted a unique foursome entering the room.
"Drak! I think we're in trouble, Luke!" he jabbed the man next to him with his elbow, then realized that he probably ought to be more subtle. His voice dropped to a whisper "Don't look, but look at what just walked in the door." Luke started to turn his head. "I said 'Don't look'!" the man whispered frantically.
"Dammit, Jase, how can I look and not look at the same time?" Luke was exasperated. By now, the other 3 men at the table were all staring at the door as well, and their jaws dropped and expressions of dismay and fear were clearly visible on their faces. Jase had not done so well with the 'subtle' part.
"OK, you guys, listen to me. You gotta look casual!" Luke ordered in a low voice once he'd also seen Demon and Talisman. "Those women they're with are not part of the Justice Machine. They're only here for dinner, just like we are. Boy, that catgirl sure is hot, isn't she? I'll bet she's got sisters!"
Everyone knew that momma catgirls usually dropped at least a half dozen litters of at least 5 kits in each, so a catgirl _always_ had sisters. Jase snorted "Wouldn't it be funny if she was the ugly one?"
The others smiled, imagining Dusk's more attractive sisters, which was what Luke had intended. Except for Rauf, who swore quietly. He didn't think humans ought to associate with any aliens, particularly catgirls, but he knew his fellows felt differently. It was always a risk, taking Rauf into a place like this. Anyway, the group no longer looked like they'd just emptied the Edge's safe and had the loot under their table.
"They don't seem to be looking for us, guys. They're just paying attention to the girls," said Jun, who was facing them. "Just heading for a table off in the corner."
"I can't believe he'd let her tail touch him like that!" Rauf snarled. Sometimes his prejudices got the better of him.
"Shut up, Rauf! Listen, guys, even if Jun's right, I think we ought to get out of here." Luke ordered his team. "I want you to get up slowly and we'll all just walk casually out the door. The meal's on the house, anyway, so the staff won't bother us for leaving without paying."
So they got up and walked casually towards the door. Rauf carried a drumstick with him, unwilling to totally abandon the best meal these men had seen in months.
Their waiter approached Luke, nodded sympathetically towards the table where Demon and Talisman were seated. "I understand, sir. Would you care for a private room instead?"
"No. We need to see Midnight, right away - in the dock." Slate Midnight was the 'Boss' of Play the Edge, also a high ranking boss in the Rimba Syndicate, which ran organized crime in the Torrentic District. Luke and his group had a business deal scheduled with Rimba later that evening. They'd arrived early, and Luke had tried to complete their deal sooner, but according to Midnight, the merchandise wouldn't arrive for another hour, and the crime boss had offered them a meal on the house while they waited. But with members of the Justice Machine in the dining room, Luke didn't feel like hanging out in public any longer. He wasn't even sure he wanted to wait around and complete the deal.
Luke's team was led into a private elevator, reserved for Edge personnel and private guests, and taken down to the 30th floor. They were met there by Karess Klawripper, Midnight's chief negotiator. Klawripper belonged to the same wolf-like species as Feral, a former member of the Justice Machine, and her reputation as a ferocious fighter almost matched his.
"I hope the Rebel Underground is not considering abandoning our deal, Luke!" Luke figured she was using voice synthesizer technology; Feral had never spoken so well in his rare public appearances. It didn't make her any less scary! "It was dangerous and expensive for Rimba to acquire your merchandise; we expect payment in full!" In spite of the synthesizer, they could hear the growl underlying her words. All five men were armed, but Luke was pretty sure it wouldn't matter, in close quarters like this hallway, Klawripper could disembowel them before they even knew she was attacking.
"I don't want to welch on the deal, the Underground needs the stuff! I just want to postpone until we're sure the Justice Machine isn't about to bust us!"
"We don't want the merchandise in our hands any longer than necessary," Klawripper replied. "If you won't take delivery tonight, we have another client who will."
Luke was thinking fast, and he had an idea. "Suppose I let two of my guys gear up in the demo merchandise and stand guard? That would make me feel a lot safer." The 'merchandise' was a shipment of the powered armor worn by the Imperial Terror Troop forces; to prove they had the goods, Rimba had previously let representatives of the Rebel Underground inspect 2 suits of armor. A trained man in armor should easily be the equal of Demon and Talisman, the two weakest members of the Justice Machine.
Klawripper considered. "No. I can't have two of your men, in full Imperial armor and weapons, inside the Edge. Instead, suppose one of your men, and one of ours, 'gear up', instead. The Justice Machine is enemy to both of us, and that way, our unstoppable forces offset." He nodded, reluctantly. "Excellent. The deal will proceed as scheduled!" She led the group to a concealed elevator, and they continued down, well below street level, to the Dock.
*****
Deep under the building which housed the Play the Edge club, it was a very busy night.
During the last 800 years, Vanguard City had grown like an amoeba to engulf virtually the entire Third Continent, starting as a seaport on the harbor where the great Huxley River, largest on Third Continent, had emptied into the Torrentic Ocean, right where the Torrentic District now stood. Though the Huxley River had been covered over and built upon centuries ago, it still followed its ancient path, hundreds of feet below street level, its vast watershed draining half the continent.
There were times when the Rimba Syndicate found it convenient to have a means of moving things into or out of Vanguard City unobserved. Almost 20 years ago, an ancient sub-basement of the building housing Play the Edge had been extended to the buried shore of the Huxley River and rebuilt as a docking area for submersibles. The Dock was a perfectly hidden and unsuspected transshipment facility. Rimba submersibles regularly ran upstream along the Huxley into the middle of Third Continent, and cargo submarines from around the world regularly docked here to discharge and accept cargo
Security was tight for tonight's delivery. The Rimba Syndicate was selling some of the most modern military equipment, including cutting edge weapons and infantry armor, munitions, spares and training videos, to the Rebel Underground, literally for a boatload of money (OK, actually a cargo submarine load of money). Neither group trusted the other, and with all the firepower changing hands there was a strong potential for things to get out of hand and one or both sides to take serious damage. Add in the presence of two members of the Justice Machine in the club above and tension was high.
The military equipment had been 'rescued' from a Syndicate-owned materials recycling center a couple of hundred miles 'upriver' from the Torrentic District. It had been originally destined for a garrison planet on the Rim, but an unfortunate (and totally untraceable) computer foul up had switched the routing orders for the arms shipment with a shipment of several hundred tons of obsolete street cleaning machines destined for recycling. The Syndicate clearly couldn't let all that brand new military equipment just be destroyed! A submersible barge designed specially to navigate on the covered-over river would be arriving from the upstream recycling center tonight. A rebel cargo submarine had docked several hours earlier, and the crew had been taking advantage of the many forms of entertainment offered by Play the Edge.
The presence of Demon and Talisman threatened the entire operation.
Chapter 4
It wasn't the kind of place, thought Demon, where even he would normally bring a date. The arena was a pit, with the cage taking up most of the room's floor. The floor was surrounded by a series of ledges where the patrons sat at tables, each ledge higher and further back from the cage than the one in front of it, so everyone had an unimpeded view. The tables and chairs were made of plastic and permanently attached to the floor, and food and drink were served in soft plastic containers, nothing that could be thrown or used as a weapon by an inebriated patron. Demon had seen other arenas like this. At the end of the night when the room was empty, robot cleaners brought out powerful hoses and simply hosed all the trash down to the floor, where it was washed through a single giant drain. The arena was poorly lit and dingy, and jammed full of screaming patrons. Most of whom were high on something or other, Demon decided.
He'd fought in places like this, before he'd been 'drafted' into the Academy; actually, places much worse than this. Those were not days he liked to remember.
"They fighhhhhhht until one of thhhhhhhem can't continuuuuue" Dusk said, excitedly. "No wwwwweaponssss, no other rulessssss"
"So they're fighting to the death?" Talisman asked, uneasily.
"There are a surprisingly few number of deaths, actually," Nautique responded, as Dusk sighed. "Most of our fighters are professionals, and they sort of stick together. A deliberate killer probably won't live to get out of the locker room after the fight. Still, we have a couple of deaths every evening." She was very blasé about it. "We pay well. Even after medical expenses, even a loser only has to fight a couple of times a year to make a good living. And a consistent winner can retire after a dozen or so fights. Not that they do. Most of 'em don't know anything else, so they keep fighting until they lose one too many."
Even Demon shuddered at that. He had no illusions; he figured he would die fighting. But he was fighting for something. Wasn't he? To prove he was the best. That made him different than these guys, didn't it? Dusk brushed his bottom with her tail and distracted him from further uncomfortable thoughts along those lines.
Neither hero enjoyed the fighting as much as they had anticipated. To Demon, it brought back bad memories of living on the streets, keeping himself alive by fighting in an arena when he had no other choices, and Talisman had always disdained physical brutality. But Dusk was purring and rubbing herself against Demon, her tail wandering, and Nautique watched with detached interest. Neither man bet; even to Talisman, it seemed somehow obscene to bet on someone else's life. Being in the Justice Machine had changed them both, somewhat.
But it didn't stop Demon from commenting on each match. "I can't believe how slow and clumsy that one is, even Talisman could have dodged that blow!"
"OK, Gabel, cut it out with the 'even Talisman' crap, will you?" his teammate finally complained. "I don't go around telling everyone about your crummy taste in clothes!"
"A telling blow!" Nautique smiled. "It _is_ a habit that is somewhat below you, Gabel," she agreed. "Surely you can critique these fighters without mocking Talisman as well?"
He didn't respond, but he did stop including Talisman in his analysis. "He left himself wide open there." "She did that pretty well, almost as well as I would." "Neither of these two deserves to get paid".
*****
One of the patrons at the next table was betting heavily. Demon's commentary seemed to irritate him, and for the most part, the fighters he was betting on were the ones Demon criticized the most. Coincidentally(?), for the most part he was losing. He was becoming more and more angry, and Demon's running analysis didn't help.
Suddenly Demon sat up straight and looked a lot more interested. "I recognize this fighter. She was at the Academy at the same time I was, got thrown out because she wouldn't put out for the commandant. She's a pretty good fighter - not as good as me, but she's better than anyone we've seen tonight."
"You know, boy, I'm tired of list'nin' to you. You talk real big, but I notice you ain't had the guts to lay any bets all night." The neighbor's anger finally reached the point he felt like saying something.
Dusk hissed and spit at him, bared her teeth and started moving in that direction but Nautique reached out and stopped the catgirl, then turned to the speaker and spoke quietly. "You're pretty wasted, friend. Time for you to leave." Nautique reached for the call button on her wrist mopec, but Demon stopped her.
"Hold on. Let's hear what he has to say." His eyes were flashing with anger, but his voice was quiet.
"Oooh. thanks fer savin' me from the big bad witch, boy!" he sneered at Demon. "Yer a pretty hot $#!* big shot, ain'cha? Bet your hot $#!* girlfriend down there loses this match!"
"We didn't get along well, but that doesn't mean she can't fight." Demon barked back angrily.
"Notice you haven't had the guts to place a bet all night, boy." The man was pretty drunk and didn't seem to realize he was repeating himself. His companions were pulling on his arms, trying to get him to shut up, clearly recognizing the famous Demon, but he wasn't having it. "Bet you're too much of a coward to place a bet on this match."
"We don't even know who she's going to be fighting," Talisman protested.
"If she's almost as good as he is, and he's the best, it really shouldn't matter, should it, maggot?" the patron responded.
"Shut up, Talisman." Demon spoke up before his teammate could unleash his own anger. "He's right, I haven't seen anyone tonight who could touch this girl. I'll take that bet."
"Well, then, I want a piece of the action too!" Talisman claimed. With his luck behind her, she couldn't lose and this guy would be shut up.
"No! She doesn't need your help," Demon insisted.
Suddenly the noisy room went silent as her opponent entered the cage.
*****
In an alternate dimension to ours exists a world, in some ways very similar to Earth (in others, quite different), named Georwell. Georwell is the capital planet of a small interstellar empire, the Georwell Imperium. Though the Imperium comprises many species, it is ruled by humans. Our story begins in the megalopolis of Martel, a sprawling city that almost entirely covers First Continent on Georwell the planet. The Imperium is ruled from the District of the Council (DC) in Martel, and in DC is the Citadel of Justice, the headquarters and fortress of the famed Justice Machine, revered Heroes of the Imperium. Five paragons of virtue who embody the ideals which are the birthright of every Citizen of the realm. Five good little soldiers who always fight the good fight.
In the depths of the Citadel of Justice, two of these mighty champions prepare for their next hazardous challenge.
A solidly-built man with long straight black hair and a mustache, his hair held back from his face by a brown headband. He wears a blue body suit that leaves his chest bare, set off by red gloves and thigh-high red leather boots. Emblazoned in yellow on the thigh of each boot is a stylized icon, a slightly sinister horned head, letting everyone know that this is the deadly martial artist, the Demon (Gabel Nevin), self-styled fastest man on three worlds.
A taller, lanky man, with longish well groomed dark brown hair and a flawlessly-trimmed van dyke beard and mustache, wearing an extremely expensive, impeccably tailored dark blue suit. This is Talisman, the newest, most enigmatic member of the Justice Machine.
Chapter 1
Demon had just finished cleaning up after a workout and was headed to dinner when Talisman hurried to catch up with him in the corridor leading to the mess hall.
"Hey, Gabel! I finally satisfied Challenger and got off extra-duty assignments," Talisman said to his teammate with a smug grin. Demon couldn't let it go at that.
"You're dreaming, Talisman. I saw today's report; you failed hand-to-hand... again. Zarren interrupted the bossman before he could issue the extra training order, and Jaiime must have forgotten. It must be tough losing your mind when you get that old," he pretended sympathy with Challenger's aging problems. "I guess I'd better go remind him."
"C'mon, Gabel, you wouldn't do that to a buddy, would you?" Talisman wheedled as his face fell. "I haven't even been outside the Citadel since we got back from Zamyatin. And we were penned up on the Indefeasible for almost a month before that!"
The Justice Machine had recently returned from a mission to a secret military base in a dome on the gas giant planet of Zamyatin. The dome had been even more cramped than the starship that had transported them there, and going outside the dome while wearing environment suits in a deadly ultra-high-pressure atmosphere whipped by hurricane-force winds, with gravity almost 3 times normal and the temperature about 200 degrees below freezing hadn't provided any relief.
"If you promise never to call me 'buddy' again, I'll let it go,” Demon snarled.
"What a pal! Say, I heard a lot of stories about a gray casino over in Vanguard City. The best games, the best booze and drugs, the best food - first class all the way!" 'Gray' indicated an establishment run by an underworld figure who usually made lavish payments to the local authorities in order to operate openly. This put the local Terror Troopers on the side of the establishment, which meant that local residents rarely complained, and never more than once!
"What about the women?" Demon asked. "I'm not interested in food or games!"
"All citizen-approved!" Talisman responded enthusiastically, using Georwellian slang for 'Nothing but the best'. "Let's get moving before Challenger catches up with me!"
"What's wrong with the Mystic Pyramid right here in Martel? We could be there in a half hour. It'll take us a couple hours on the ballistic shuttle to reach Vanguard City."
Talisman wasn't welcome in any club in Martel, especially the Mystic Pyramid operated by Dulcachan! He didn't think Demon needed to know this, though. "I'll order us a hyper," one of the Justice Machine's hypersonic fliers, which were always standing ready at the Citadel of Justice "and we can be there in under 15 minutes". Vanguard City was over 4000 miles away, across the Torrentic Ocean on the Third Continent, but a hyper could reach any spot on the planet in half an hour.
"You'll be in the crapper with Challenger when we get back for hacking into the Citadel computer system," Demon warned. Actually, the opportunity to piss off Challenger, and see Talisman in deep $#!*, sealed the deal for him.
"When am I not in the crapper around here?" Talisman wondered philosophically. "Can we hurry? Even my luck can't keep Challenger away forever!"
*****
"Triune Crap!" Demon staggered out of the hypersonic flier into the top-floor hanger of the Play the Edge casino. "You almost killed me!" He retched. His face was greenish and he had to lean against the wall just to stay on his feet. "Next time <gasp> we borrow one of the duty pilots instead of <gasp> letting you reprogram the autopilot!"
"Who knew you had such a weak stomach?" Talisman crowed. "We were only in the air for," he paused, and looked at his watch dramatically "13 minutes and 14 seconds." They'd come over 4,000 miles in that time, and even with the most advanced inertial dampeners available to Imperium science, it had been a rough ride - for Demon, at least. "You should take one of these," he held out a pill "…prevents nausea. Actually," he sounded apologetic "you really should have had one before we left." His chuckle proved he wasn't sincere.
Demon grabbed the pill and instantly dry swallowed it, before his stomach could roll over again. "You don't have to worry about Challenger," he tried to snarl, but it came out as a squeak. "I'll kill you myself, as soon as I feel better!"
Suddenly, he looked like a bomb had gone off in his stomach. His face expanded and his eyes opened wider than anything Talisman had ever seen before, his cheeks bulged out - and it passed.
"Wow! What was that stuff?" Instantly, Demon felt much better, although still very weak.
"Underworld secret, pal!" Talisman laughed heartily. "I sure wish I had a picture of that!"
Demon took a swing at him, but he was still slow, and missed by a mile. "I told you never to call me 'pal' again."
"You said 'buddy'," Talisman complained as he ducked. "You distinctly said 'buddy'. The security tape will prove it."
"This better be a damn good club!" Demon replied, as they entered the elevator to the lobby.
*****
"I wish you'd taken the time to put some clothes on," Talisman complained to his teammate on the elevator. "I was hoping to be inconspicuous"
"You don't have to worry about that, 'pal'. With me around, nobody will even notice you!" Demon stood up straight and stuck his chest out. "Why hide. this? You watch, the women will be all over me!"
"Man, now I need one of those nausea pills," Talisman groaned. Demon glared at him, but at just that second, the door slid open, letting in the sounds of the club.
Chapter 2
In a darkened room not far away, a dozen beings watched scenes flicker across the screens of a hundred video monitors. One of the watchers pressed a couple of buttons, then called the floor boss. The image from the elevator flicked from a small monitor on the console to a much larger monitor on the wall, and the security computer superimposed written information and targeting circles on the images of the men on the elevator.
"Solly! We got us a problem. Them two guys are from the Justice Machine - Demon and the new guy, what's-his-name. Computer's locked on 'em now."
"So, dat's Demon, huh? Kind of a pretty boy, ain't he? He sure don't look dat tough." Solly had been a noted brawler when he was younger, and he never let his crew forget it. But he knew his job, too. "I better let da Boss know. Sorta suspicious, dem showing up t'night of all nights, eh?" He moved off towards a communication console. "Keep the big screen locked on 'em, Durble, while I tell da Boss."
*****
The elevator exited into a recessed niche in a large luxurious lobby. Artful placement of marble columns, large plants, plush furniture and free-standing sculptures broke the room up into many smaller, more intimate spaces. The floor was brightly polished marble, dotted with deep-pile area rugs. The marble walls sported fantastic artwork. The wealth required to furnish and decorate this room was stunning! There were a lot of people standing, sitting or lounging in the various spaces, though the room's design was such that it didn't feel crowded. Barely costumed attendants mingled with the crowd, providing food, drinks, and pharmaceuticals.
"This is just the kind of place where I feel comfortable," Talisman said. "Almost like they designed it with me in mind."
"Oh, yeah!" Demon agreed enthusiastically, his eyes wandering over the many attractive women. He couldn't help staring at one particular attendant, an almost-human catgirl, as tall as he was, with a lithe figure, covered with short calico fur. She wore a micro-miniskirt and lace-up vest that barely concealed her 4 breasts - which surely must have been surgically enhanced. She had a prehensile tail and was very social, using her tail to casually caress her customers as she served them.
A beautiful black woman in a floor length gown, low cut in front and back, so white it almost glowed, glided gracefully across the floor and extended her hand. "Mr. Nevin," Demon shook her hand. She turned "Mr. Talisman. I'm Nautique, the hostess."
Talisman took her hand, bowed, and brushed his lips across her fingers. "I'm enchanted, my dear." A pleased expression flashed across her face. She gently squeezed his hand before releasing it.
"Welcome to Play the Edge, gentlemen. It's a rare honor to host members of the Justice Machine." She smiled broadly; her teeth were as white as her gown.
'I'll bet its rare - like, never happened before!' Talisman thought to himself. He couldn't see Challenger, Diviner or Titan ever coming to a place like this. 'And, since she knows who we are, it's probably the only bet I'll get to make all night.'
He was right. "Mr. Talisman, I apologize, but the game rooms aren't available to you. I'm afraid your reputation proceeds you." She turned to the catgirl Demon was watching and snapped her fingers. "Dusk!" She turned back to heroes. "But Dusk will guide you through the rest of the club. Play the Edge has much more to offer than just gambling." For the briefest instant, a puzzled expression flashed across her face. "Excuse me, just a moment." She floated gracefully towards a privacy nook and activated the nook's silent privacy shield. She could still be seen, but no one outside the nook could hear what she might be saying.
"Can I ssstart you gentlemennnn with ssssomething to drink?" Dusk purred. Demon found her soft, throaty voice even more sensual than her appearance.
"Euvian Stout" Euve was a large, mountainous island far from any of Georwell's continents, whose remote location had saved it from being subsumed by one of the giant cities that had submerged each of the three continents. Euvian Stout was legendary among the citizens of Georwell, though it was so expensive that few people outside of Euve actually ever got to taste it. Dusk winked her approval and turned to Talisman. With her back to Demon, her tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, gently caressed one of his ankles.
"Do you have Quialmian Champagne?" Talisman asked, a very elegant, expensive beverage imported from off-planet. "Bring me two flutes, please. Perhaps Nautique will join us." Dusk hurried away, her tail brushing Talisman as she passed him.
"You're buying a drink for the hostess? What are you, nuts?" Demon demanded.
"I think she likes me, Gabel!" Talisman replied, turning to watch Nautique as she spoke with someone via her mopec (mobile personal computicator, the Georwellian equivalent of a cell phone/personal digital assistant).
"You've got the same chance with her as I have with Diviner!" Nevin responded scornfully. "She's paid to make you think that."
"It's more than that!" Talisman insisted.
"By the way, how are we paying for this?" Demon interrupted. "I don't think Challenger pays us enough to even cover the drinks!"
"Don't worry - I tapped one of the Justice Machine's discretionary accounts and tied it to our JM ID cards for the night. We're flush."
Dusk arrived with their drinks; Demon noticed she'd brought one for herself as well. Nautique returned a couple of seconds later, and her body language indicated that she wasn't too happy. Talisman held out the second flute of champagne. "Join us for a drink? Quialmian Champagne."
"Thanks!" She accepted the drink and took an appreciative sip. "Normally I couldn't - I'm not allowed to drink with guests while I'm on duty. But somebody messed up tonight's schedule, and it's Wendaekyn's night." She pointed to an extremely beautiful woman who might have been her negative twin: almost an albino complexion, with bright red hair, wearing a black gown. Somehow, while Nautique projected warmth and friendliness, Wendaekyn projected aloofness. "Even though I've got seniority, she's sleeping with the Boss."
"Always the way, isn't it?" Talisman sympathized. "Would you care to join us for dinner?" he asked graciously. Demon was surprised; he'd never known his teammate to be other than a jerk.
"Why not? Suddenly I'm free this evening. Shall we?" She took Talisman's arm.
"A fortunate coincidence. What a surprise!" He didn't look at all surprised as he smirked at Demon, then let Nautique guide him towards the dining room. Demon shrugged, then imitated his teammate and offered his arm to Dusk. She took his arm, and her tail wrapped around it as well.
Neither hero was paying much attention to the club's other customers as the foursome left the lobby. But they were noticed - or at least one of them was. As they passed a quiet conversation niche, a poorly groomed, rather beat up looking young man wearing an poorly fitting but very expensive suit did a classic double-take as he saw Talisman. He leaped from his seat, knocking down the attendant who had been bringing drinks to his group. "Clumsy logi!" he cussed as he kicked the man in the head. "You buying dose drinks, not us!" He rushed into a privacy nook and placed a mopec call.
"Mugga, it's Manse." Manse was a member of the KrunKs street gang in Martel, spending the loot (and wearing a suit) he'd stolen in a recent caper, and Mugga was the highest ranking KrunK Lord he knew. "I'm inna Play t'Edge club inna Torn'tic Distrik of Vanguard City. Tat guy Talisman we's lookin' for? He's here!"
There was a grunt of satisfaction from the other end, then silence. Manse hung up. "Whatta lucky break!" he congratulated himself.
*****
This was the first time that Demon and Talisman had appeared in public for personal reasons since joining the Justice Machine, and they were surprised by the reaction they generated. As they entered the large, crowded, noisy main dining room, a hush developed, spreading slowly away from them as people turned to stare. As they walked towards their table, the murmur of conversation slowly started up again, though they remained surrounded by a moving bubble of silence.
"The last club I was in, they threw me out!" Talisman commented, a big smile on his face. He was definitely enjoying being recognized.
"Why Mr. Talissssmannnn" hissed Dusk. "who could everrrr think of sssssuch a thing?"
Demon was less comfortable with the public reaction than he'd anticipated, and was happy to have a chance for a wisecrack. "Only everyone who knows him, babe!" he chuckled.
As they sat, Talisman noticed a large group at a table nearby hastily leaving. He looked more closely, and realized that they were leaving their meals largely untouched. He turned to Nautique. "What jerks! Do we smell or something?"
She was apologetic. "You surely understand that not all of our clients will be comfortable around members of the most elite law enforcement team in the Imperium?" Talisman found this charming; no one had ever referred to him as 'elite' before.
Before they had placed their order, the room was at least a third empty, and Demon had noticed several groups which had entered the room, spotted them, then turned and left. His annoyance at this was offset by the number of admiring glances he got from the remaining female patrons. If he hadn't been with Dusk, he was sure he could have had his choice of any woman in the room, whether she was with an escort or not.
As it was, the sexy catgirl was hanging on his every word. She seemed to find his stories about fighting, and in particular, his own battle skills, especially fascinating. Fine with him; he had a lot of those! "Prosecutor Zarren knows that Challenger's getting too old to be effective, so he recruited me to take his place as leader of the Justice Machine. I just hope the old man has the sense to get out before he gets hurt or killed!"
Her eyes got wide at that. "The nexxxxt leaderrrrrr of the Jussssticccce Machhhhhhine! You musssst beeee a grrrrrreat fighterrrrr!"
"The best" he said modestly. He glared at Talisman, who might have been just about to mention Demon's recent encounters with Lionheart and the two Challengers. Fortunately for one of the heroes (you decide which one!) Nautique joined the conversation.
"Talisman, why were you asked to join the Justice Machine? Demon and Challenger are great fighters, Titan can grow to giant size, and Diviner has her super senses, but what does a reformed gambler and con man, regardless of your undeniable charm and considerable style, bring to a group of government heroes?"
"Funny you should ask that!" Demon chimed in. "The rest of us wonder about that too - all the time!"
"Shut up, Demon!" Talisman said. He wasn't surprised that Nautique didn't know about his karma-based power. Challenger insisted it would be more effective if their enemies didn't expect it. Well, he wasn't going to give anything away. "Frankly, though Challenger is still one of the most knowledgeable computer experts alive, his knowledge is getting out of date. Prosecutor Zarren wanted someone younger with better knowledge of the more current developments in computers and cybernetics. And since I joined, Challenger has realized that I'm a superb tactician, and he's come to rely on my advice in all our battles. It was my tactics that defeated the nahman on Kurnnegut!"
Demon coughed, then changed the subject. "Nautique, you mentioned that Play the Edge has more to offer than just the casino?"
"If I can't get into the casino, is there anything else I can bet on?" Talisman added, wistfully. Any place his power could enhance the odds in his favor.
"I think we have something both of you will enjoy," she responded. "We have some cage fighting tonight. It always draws a large crowd, and the betting is always heavy."
"I rrrrrreally love watchhhhing!" Dusk purred before the heroes could respond.
Demon laughed. "Cage fighting it is! Maybe Talisman will learn something."
*****
As Nautique led them down a corridor, they could hear crowd noises growing louder. As they got closer, they realized it didn't sound like the kind of noises they would expect to hear from the gallery of a fighting arena - instead of screaming and cheering there was a lot of booing and moaning.
"I've never seen a cage match where the crowd booed!" Demon commented. "Must be both guys don't want to fight." He didn't look pleased.
"That's not the arena" Nautique smiled at him. "That's our comedy club. We've got a new comedy team making their first big-time appearance tonight. Should we stop and listen for a few minutes?"
"Why not?" Talisman asked. "We don't get many laughs in the Citadel of Justice around Prosecutor Zarren."
*****
"I'd like to introduce my partner," the male member of the comedy team told his audience. "I met her in a comedy club in the 'Astro City' District". Astro City was around 600 miles from the Torrentic District. "I asked her name and she said 'I'm Draeci'. I told her 'That's a name you don't hear every day'. She said 'Actually, I do.'" the male comedian paused for a beat, perhaps waiting for laughter, which didn't come.
"Dirv and I spent some time getting to know each other before we started doing comedy," the woman spoke up "Actually, he spent a lot of time telling me about himself, but he finally redeemed himself. He said 'I'm sorry, I really should give you a chance to talk. What do you think about me?' How's that for a thoughtful guy?" At least the women in the audience applauded for this, but the men groaned.
"I'd rather listen to Zarren!" Demon yelled. Talisman agreed, and they continued on their way to the arena.
Chapter 3
A few minutes ago, back in the lobby…
Manse came out of the privacy nook, and one of the attendants stopped in front of him. "Your drink, sir!"
Manse stopped - he hadn't ordered a drink, but what the heck, he deserved it after the attendant had dropped his last one. As he reached for it, something touched him on the side of the neck from behind and his body stopped responding. Without a sound he started to collapse. Another attendant had come up behind him and touched his neck with a device that looked like a pen. The two attendants caught him before he could fall, and supported him as they walked out the back door.
"Too much recstim," they told the only patron who noticed. "We'll take care of him." The patron turned away, pleased to know that the club took such good care of its customers, even when they made disgusting fools of themselves with recstim.
Manse was taken outside the rear door into an alley and dropped abruptly to the ground. His head bounced off the pavement, and he heard something crack, but his body was numb and he couldn't feel anything. One of the attendants pulled out a knife, and Manse was sure he was dead, but the man only sliced his clothes into shreds.
"Hey, Jak! Check out this tat' - he's a Krunkpunk!" the man told his partner.
"I guess he forgot he ain't on Krunk turf tonight. So, crud face, when you was just a local jerk-off, we was just gonna dump you out here as a lesson in manners. But seen'n as you's a Krunk, we got a message for you ta take back home wit ya! Da Krunks ain't welcome here, starting wit you." He pressed a button on his wrist mopec and almost instantly, a team of very tough-looking bouncers showed up. "Dis guy's a Krunk - and he kicked Frek in da head. I thought maybe you's guys cud send him off wit a little warnin' for da rest of da Krunkpunks?"
One of the bouncers kicked Manse in the head. He didn't feel a thing. "Da Edge and Torrentic District are Rimba territory, Krunkpunk - and you and yer pals better member dat da next time!" The bouncer turned to the waiter. "Frek's ok, so we won't kill dis guy." He and another bouncer picked up the Krunk's limp body, a third opened the lid on one of the dumpsters. "In ya go!" They dumped him inside and just before his head disappeared beneath the semi-liquid slop, one of them touched him again with the pen-like device. He could move again, and unfortunately, he could feel the terrible torturous pain in his head. The dumpster slammed shut, and the back door of the club slammed shut, locking the naked, garbage-covered screaming Manse out of the club and the rest of our story.
*****
A group of men was seated around a table in the opulent main dining room in the Play the Edge club. Their meals had just arrived when one of them spotted a unique foursome entering the room.
"Drak! I think we're in trouble, Luke!" he jabbed the man next to him with his elbow, then realized that he probably ought to be more subtle. His voice dropped to a whisper "Don't look, but look at what just walked in the door." Luke started to turn his head. "I said 'Don't look'!" the man whispered frantically.
"Dammit, Jase, how can I look and not look at the same time?" Luke was exasperated. By now, the other 3 men at the table were all staring at the door as well, and their jaws dropped and expressions of dismay and fear were clearly visible on their faces. Jase had not done so well with the 'subtle' part.
"OK, you guys, listen to me. You gotta look casual!" Luke ordered in a low voice once he'd also seen Demon and Talisman. "Those women they're with are not part of the Justice Machine. They're only here for dinner, just like we are. Boy, that catgirl sure is hot, isn't she? I'll bet she's got sisters!"
Everyone knew that momma catgirls usually dropped at least a half dozen litters of at least 5 kits in each, so a catgirl _always_ had sisters. Jase snorted "Wouldn't it be funny if she was the ugly one?"
The others smiled, imagining Dusk's more attractive sisters, which was what Luke had intended. Except for Rauf, who swore quietly. He didn't think humans ought to associate with any aliens, particularly catgirls, but he knew his fellows felt differently. It was always a risk, taking Rauf into a place like this. Anyway, the group no longer looked like they'd just emptied the Edge's safe and had the loot under their table.
"They don't seem to be looking for us, guys. They're just paying attention to the girls," said Jun, who was facing them. "Just heading for a table off in the corner."
"I can't believe he'd let her tail touch him like that!" Rauf snarled. Sometimes his prejudices got the better of him.
"Shut up, Rauf! Listen, guys, even if Jun's right, I think we ought to get out of here." Luke ordered his team. "I want you to get up slowly and we'll all just walk casually out the door. The meal's on the house, anyway, so the staff won't bother us for leaving without paying."
So they got up and walked casually towards the door. Rauf carried a drumstick with him, unwilling to totally abandon the best meal these men had seen in months.
Their waiter approached Luke, nodded sympathetically towards the table where Demon and Talisman were seated. "I understand, sir. Would you care for a private room instead?"
"No. We need to see Midnight, right away - in the dock." Slate Midnight was the 'Boss' of Play the Edge, also a high ranking boss in the Rimba Syndicate, which ran organized crime in the Torrentic District. Luke and his group had a business deal scheduled with Rimba later that evening. They'd arrived early, and Luke had tried to complete their deal sooner, but according to Midnight, the merchandise wouldn't arrive for another hour, and the crime boss had offered them a meal on the house while they waited. But with members of the Justice Machine in the dining room, Luke didn't feel like hanging out in public any longer. He wasn't even sure he wanted to wait around and complete the deal.
Luke's team was led into a private elevator, reserved for Edge personnel and private guests, and taken down to the 30th floor. They were met there by Karess Klawripper, Midnight's chief negotiator. Klawripper belonged to the same wolf-like species as Feral, a former member of the Justice Machine, and her reputation as a ferocious fighter almost matched his.
"I hope the Rebel Underground is not considering abandoning our deal, Luke!" Luke figured she was using voice synthesizer technology; Feral had never spoken so well in his rare public appearances. It didn't make her any less scary! "It was dangerous and expensive for Rimba to acquire your merchandise; we expect payment in full!" In spite of the synthesizer, they could hear the growl underlying her words. All five men were armed, but Luke was pretty sure it wouldn't matter, in close quarters like this hallway, Klawripper could disembowel them before they even knew she was attacking.
"I don't want to welch on the deal, the Underground needs the stuff! I just want to postpone until we're sure the Justice Machine isn't about to bust us!"
"We don't want the merchandise in our hands any longer than necessary," Klawripper replied. "If you won't take delivery tonight, we have another client who will."
Luke was thinking fast, and he had an idea. "Suppose I let two of my guys gear up in the demo merchandise and stand guard? That would make me feel a lot safer." The 'merchandise' was a shipment of the powered armor worn by the Imperial Terror Troop forces; to prove they had the goods, Rimba had previously let representatives of the Rebel Underground inspect 2 suits of armor. A trained man in armor should easily be the equal of Demon and Talisman, the two weakest members of the Justice Machine.
Klawripper considered. "No. I can't have two of your men, in full Imperial armor and weapons, inside the Edge. Instead, suppose one of your men, and one of ours, 'gear up', instead. The Justice Machine is enemy to both of us, and that way, our unstoppable forces offset." He nodded, reluctantly. "Excellent. The deal will proceed as scheduled!" She led the group to a concealed elevator, and they continued down, well below street level, to the Dock.
*****
Deep under the building which housed the Play the Edge club, it was a very busy night.
During the last 800 years, Vanguard City had grown like an amoeba to engulf virtually the entire Third Continent, starting as a seaport on the harbor where the great Huxley River, largest on Third Continent, had emptied into the Torrentic Ocean, right where the Torrentic District now stood. Though the Huxley River had been covered over and built upon centuries ago, it still followed its ancient path, hundreds of feet below street level, its vast watershed draining half the continent.
There were times when the Rimba Syndicate found it convenient to have a means of moving things into or out of Vanguard City unobserved. Almost 20 years ago, an ancient sub-basement of the building housing Play the Edge had been extended to the buried shore of the Huxley River and rebuilt as a docking area for submersibles. The Dock was a perfectly hidden and unsuspected transshipment facility. Rimba submersibles regularly ran upstream along the Huxley into the middle of Third Continent, and cargo submarines from around the world regularly docked here to discharge and accept cargo
Security was tight for tonight's delivery. The Rimba Syndicate was selling some of the most modern military equipment, including cutting edge weapons and infantry armor, munitions, spares and training videos, to the Rebel Underground, literally for a boatload of money (OK, actually a cargo submarine load of money). Neither group trusted the other, and with all the firepower changing hands there was a strong potential for things to get out of hand and one or both sides to take serious damage. Add in the presence of two members of the Justice Machine in the club above and tension was high.
The military equipment had been 'rescued' from a Syndicate-owned materials recycling center a couple of hundred miles 'upriver' from the Torrentic District. It had been originally destined for a garrison planet on the Rim, but an unfortunate (and totally untraceable) computer foul up had switched the routing orders for the arms shipment with a shipment of several hundred tons of obsolete street cleaning machines destined for recycling. The Syndicate clearly couldn't let all that brand new military equipment just be destroyed! A submersible barge designed specially to navigate on the covered-over river would be arriving from the upstream recycling center tonight. A rebel cargo submarine had docked several hours earlier, and the crew had been taking advantage of the many forms of entertainment offered by Play the Edge.
The presence of Demon and Talisman threatened the entire operation.
Chapter 4
It wasn't the kind of place, thought Demon, where even he would normally bring a date. The arena was a pit, with the cage taking up most of the room's floor. The floor was surrounded by a series of ledges where the patrons sat at tables, each ledge higher and further back from the cage than the one in front of it, so everyone had an unimpeded view. The tables and chairs were made of plastic and permanently attached to the floor, and food and drink were served in soft plastic containers, nothing that could be thrown or used as a weapon by an inebriated patron. Demon had seen other arenas like this. At the end of the night when the room was empty, robot cleaners brought out powerful hoses and simply hosed all the trash down to the floor, where it was washed through a single giant drain. The arena was poorly lit and dingy, and jammed full of screaming patrons. Most of whom were high on something or other, Demon decided.
He'd fought in places like this, before he'd been 'drafted' into the Academy; actually, places much worse than this. Those were not days he liked to remember.
"They fighhhhhhht until one of thhhhhhhem can't continuuuuue" Dusk said, excitedly. "No wwwwweaponssss, no other rulessssss"
"So they're fighting to the death?" Talisman asked, uneasily.
"There are a surprisingly few number of deaths, actually," Nautique responded, as Dusk sighed. "Most of our fighters are professionals, and they sort of stick together. A deliberate killer probably won't live to get out of the locker room after the fight. Still, we have a couple of deaths every evening." She was very blasé about it. "We pay well. Even after medical expenses, even a loser only has to fight a couple of times a year to make a good living. And a consistent winner can retire after a dozen or so fights. Not that they do. Most of 'em don't know anything else, so they keep fighting until they lose one too many."
Even Demon shuddered at that. He had no illusions; he figured he would die fighting. But he was fighting for something. Wasn't he? To prove he was the best. That made him different than these guys, didn't it? Dusk brushed his bottom with her tail and distracted him from further uncomfortable thoughts along those lines.
Neither hero enjoyed the fighting as much as they had anticipated. To Demon, it brought back bad memories of living on the streets, keeping himself alive by fighting in an arena when he had no other choices, and Talisman had always disdained physical brutality. But Dusk was purring and rubbing herself against Demon, her tail wandering, and Nautique watched with detached interest. Neither man bet; even to Talisman, it seemed somehow obscene to bet on someone else's life. Being in the Justice Machine had changed them both, somewhat.
But it didn't stop Demon from commenting on each match. "I can't believe how slow and clumsy that one is, even Talisman could have dodged that blow!"
"OK, Gabel, cut it out with the 'even Talisman' crap, will you?" his teammate finally complained. "I don't go around telling everyone about your crummy taste in clothes!"
"A telling blow!" Nautique smiled. "It _is_ a habit that is somewhat below you, Gabel," she agreed. "Surely you can critique these fighters without mocking Talisman as well?"
He didn't respond, but he did stop including Talisman in his analysis. "He left himself wide open there." "She did that pretty well, almost as well as I would." "Neither of these two deserves to get paid".
*****
One of the patrons at the next table was betting heavily. Demon's commentary seemed to irritate him, and for the most part, the fighters he was betting on were the ones Demon criticized the most. Coincidentally(?), for the most part he was losing. He was becoming more and more angry, and Demon's running analysis didn't help.
Suddenly Demon sat up straight and looked a lot more interested. "I recognize this fighter. She was at the Academy at the same time I was, got thrown out because she wouldn't put out for the commandant. She's a pretty good fighter - not as good as me, but she's better than anyone we've seen tonight."
"You know, boy, I'm tired of list'nin' to you. You talk real big, but I notice you ain't had the guts to lay any bets all night." The neighbor's anger finally reached the point he felt like saying something.
Dusk hissed and spit at him, bared her teeth and started moving in that direction but Nautique reached out and stopped the catgirl, then turned to the speaker and spoke quietly. "You're pretty wasted, friend. Time for you to leave." Nautique reached for the call button on her wrist mopec, but Demon stopped her.
"Hold on. Let's hear what he has to say." His eyes were flashing with anger, but his voice was quiet.
"Oooh. thanks fer savin' me from the big bad witch, boy!" he sneered at Demon. "Yer a pretty hot $#!* big shot, ain'cha? Bet your hot $#!* girlfriend down there loses this match!"
"We didn't get along well, but that doesn't mean she can't fight." Demon barked back angrily.
"Notice you haven't had the guts to place a bet all night, boy." The man was pretty drunk and didn't seem to realize he was repeating himself. His companions were pulling on his arms, trying to get him to shut up, clearly recognizing the famous Demon, but he wasn't having it. "Bet you're too much of a coward to place a bet on this match."
"We don't even know who she's going to be fighting," Talisman protested.
"If she's almost as good as he is, and he's the best, it really shouldn't matter, should it, maggot?" the patron responded.
"Shut up, Talisman." Demon spoke up before his teammate could unleash his own anger. "He's right, I haven't seen anyone tonight who could touch this girl. I'll take that bet."
"Well, then, I want a piece of the action too!" Talisman claimed. With his luck behind her, she couldn't lose and this guy would be shut up.
"No! She doesn't need your help," Demon insisted.
Suddenly the noisy room went silent as her opponent entered the cage.
*****