Pandora's Box. Страница 5
Draam rolled out an open aerobot, in which Smorg was already sitting. Inspired by his recent public appearance on Ilion, he had decided to go out more often now. The enormous Vriinian took the front seat, occupying two places at once, while Kane sat behind him together with one infantry droid. The rest stayed aboard, watching through the droid’s eyes, or rather, its lenses, everything that was happening on several large holographic screens in the mess hall.
They left the spaceport and after some time reached a cluster of small buildings that grew more numerous as they went. It was clear that the lower levels of the houses and structures had been built long ago and by a far more civilized beings – of white stone adorned with intricate runic carvings and traces of colorful mosaics. The multilevel extensions added by later inhabitants, however, possessed neither beauty nor grace.
To Kane, the city resembled a small provincial Chinese town of the past century, only here the contrasts were far greater. Drones of every shape and size buzzed through the air, delivering containers and parcels to the residential tiers above.
The crowds bustling back and forth consisted mostly of humanoid races. The rulers and authorities of Bajjar were known for their conservatism in matters of appearance and were far from welcoming toward visitors from non-humanoid worlds or other exotic alien species.
Before long they arrived at a mansion standing apart from all the other buildings – the residence of the so-called ‘governor’, as the local official responsible for several districts of the town was called. Around the mansion stretched a small garden with a pond, where several furry, oddly colored creatures – something between a hippopotamus and a cat, lay half-submerged in the water, dozing lazily.
The interior of the mansion symbolically mirrored the world outside: shabby, timeworn walls clashed grotesquely with a haphazard collection of so-called works of art – mock paintings, crude frescoes, and other decorations. Everything around them assaulted the eye with a garishness so extreme it bordered on the absurd.
Climbing the wide, creaking staircase, the friends escorted by the scarred thug found themselves in an oval hall lined with drinks and snacks, a place that had clearly, though unsuccessfully, been remodeled into a bar. In the far corner, two towering dancers from Siriana VII, a planet famous for supplying models to every major fashion venue in the known universe, moved slowly and sensually to the music on a small platform.
On a long couch covered with the hides of the same creatures they had seen lounging by the pond sat the local governor – a gaunt, one-eyed figure in a ridiculous, brightly colored jumpsuit, his head clean-shaven. Judging by his golden eye, he clearly had Vriinian blood in him.
«That’s right», he said with a nod, noticing how the newcomers were studying him with curiosity. «My mother was of Vriinian blood. And as for my father, I never met the old man!»
«Oh, what a tragedy», Draam replied, matching the governor’s tone with a touch of sarcasm. «Hearing such things truly breaks the heart.»
«Well, well! I can’t tell you how deeply moved I am by such sympathy!» the governor sneered. «But enough pleasantries for today. Scar tells me you’re here for the Arena, ready to place some serious bets. Is that true?»
«That’s correct», Kane replied with a smile and gave an important-looking nod at the same time, «but first we’d like to look around and fully enjoy the company of such refined and dazzling society. You understand, luck like this doesn’t come our way every day.»
«I like you!» the governor roared with laughter. «Blast me to bits, I really do! And you’re in luck – tonight’s the final bout for the new title, between the legendary Oth and the Rionian wonder-warrior. That means the stakes will be sky-high! Hold out your hands I’ll stamp you with access codes!»
When it came Smorg’s turn, the governor put away the marker and blew his nose loudly.
«Forgot to mention – you’ll have to leave your beast at home!» he sneered, spitting on the floor with open contempt. «The Arena’s a show for the noble and creatures like that don’t belong there!»
«Can you really judge nobility by appearance?» Smorg asked, hurt, already weighed down by the gloomy atmosphere of the place.
«He can talk too?!» the governor exclaimed, his single eye bulging in astonishment. «Now that’s something we haven’t seen around here before!»
Kane burst into a loud, exaggerated cough, as if he’d just heard the most outrageous thing in his life, his eyes theatrically bulging.
«This», he declared, «is the chief creditor of your Trade Corporation, Baron von Smorg, owner of the largest banking network on this side of the galaxy! Naturally, he’s here incognito and expects no formal honors, but I trust a simple gesture of respect toward the chief secret sponsor of your entire system will suffice!»
At these words, the governor’s face went pale and long. Clearly, trouble with the Corporation was the last thing he wanted. He leapt up from his makeshift throne, hastily bowing as he handed Kane a small card while bowing low before Smorg.
«My deepest apologies, Your Grace, most esteemed Baron!» he babbled, racking his memory for every respectful form of address he knew. «Had I been informed in advance of the arrival of such illustrious guests, we would have prepared a proper reception! This is the key to my personal box at the Arena! I hope you’ll find what you came here for!»
«So do we», Kane replied meaningfully, putting on an air of arrogance and giving Smorg a discreet nudge to do the same. «We very much hope that’s exactly what we’ll find here.»
With suitably dignified expressions, they made their way back out, once again marveling at the chaotic tastelessness surrounding them on every side. The drab palette of dull colors, combined with the peeling walls and shabby décor, only deepened the sense of gloom and made them eager to get out into the open air.
They had barely stepped outside when shouts erupted behind them followed by hurried footsteps and the crash of breaking glass. From the sounds growing louder by the second, it was clear that people inside were becoming violently nauseous, and their number was growing by the moment.
«What’s going on in there?!» Draam asked in surprise, stopping short and exchanging a quick glance with Kane while listening to the commotion inside the mansion.
«Reflexive assault gas», Smorg replied readily. «One of the capsules must’ve slipped out of my pocket. Mm… by accident.»
«By accident?!» Draam laughed approvingly. «Got any more? I think I’ll make my own little contribution to this garden of paradise!» he said and with that, hurled a whole handful of capsules through the open upper window with a powerful swing.
Chapter 5
Soon they reached a vast, bowl-shaped natural crater – the site of the main Arena. The entire space was roofed over and resembled a gigantic stadium. Typically, arenas for combat and spectators were built in multiple tiers descending deep underground: the higher the arena stood, the more prestigious the fight, the more titled the warriors, and the more privileged the audience.
The friends walked past the enormous gates thrown wide open toward an armored oval door marked by a glowing arrow. Crude inscriptions in various languages scrawled across it read: Entrance. Kane pressed to the scanner the card so reverently handed to him by the governor; green lights blinked to life. Finally, the lock clicked, and the door slid open at once.
A small service droid greeted them warmly in Galacton and instructed them to follow – it would show them to their seats.
The box looked surprisingly decent. It stood a little apart, raised slightly above the main tiers, with several rows of seats that, by local standards, were almost new, barely worn and not yet much faded with time. Apparently, no more than ten years had passed since they’d been torn out of some visiting ship.