The games were played in the shadows that at the very edge of civilization. They were bloody fantasy, a moaning ghost to the rest of the city. They were a plague that the Seers wished to eradicate. Something that didn't exist in the real world, so those outside rules didn't seem to readily apply. Here a First Ringer might flirt with a denizen from furthest out, and sit in his lap and whisper sweet nothings.

Here the games lived and breathed and the anonymous spectators were a single writhing mass of cheering men and women.

All of it would shatter and fade with the final bell. Life would return to normal.

The guard frowned at the plastic cards in his hand before waving the duo through to join the crowds who had already gathered in anticipation of the masquerade. Lights flickered in the damp tunnel, and she could just hear a drip of water over the bursts of merrymaking that were erupting from the far end.

Under the masks, most of the guests were wearing their finest garb, as was expected at any sort of formal gathering. The poorer denizens had arrived their church clothes, while the inhabitants of the inner rings were wrapped in glittering evening attire that would have done well for a wedding or ball. Angela had attended both weddings and balls in the center rings. She would have laid her bets that many of the top crust present spectators had saved what they were wearing this night for this purpose alone.

The Games were that important.

Even Rex had donned a jumpsuit that was both clean and new. Angela herself was one of the few who had remained informal.

Angela and Rex took a seat in the back row of the benches nearest the door. Chamber music was being piped in as the rest of the guests milled around and collected into small groups and chatted. Some were friends, others strangers. Even here the differences between the classes were obvious, but ignored in that uncanny fashion that seemed only to occur amongst devotees, and only during these rare occasions when they were all thrown together.

Rex pitched his voice to slip past the din.

“I've lost my sense of direction. Where do you think we are?”

“Not sure.” Angela responded as she slowly scanned the room for potential trouble. The waters seemed calm for the moment. “I would guess somewhere beneath the outer ring.”

“I've been studying the setup here, it doesn't look permanent. With a good crew, I bet it could be stripped down and loaded into a lorry in a couple hours. Everything would be gone except for the stains and memories.”

“I wonder how good their security is.” Angela stood up on the bench and looked around the room. There were three other exits. One at each cardinal point. She would have bet her next job's pay that they were in what had once been a trolley station. The last time she had seen the Games had been a few years back while hanging on the arm of a client who wanted a body guard who looked good in a slinky dress, just in case. The dank basement had all but ruined that gown. A good thing she hadn't paid for it.

“What sorts of events do you think we'll see tonight? I'm partial to the Maze Races. Aside from that main event of course.”

“I don't know. Beyond the Champions are appearing at the end of the contests.”

“Yeah, the Champions!” A dreamy grin spread across the hound's face. “That should be quite a spectacle. Two top contenders, and so different in their style. If I ever have any children, I will be telling them about this night. Hopefully they give a good account of themselves.” Rex flipped a small red disk and caught it. He checked which face came up and smiled again. “I wouldn't want it to be over too quickly.”

There was little reason to wish to see the events stretched out. “They will last as long as they do.” She responded, sending the conversation into a lull. She thought back again on her last visit to the Games. Her client had expected services beyond those that she had contracted for. He went home with a broken arm while she ditched her business and began anew.

Those had been lean months.

“Where did you come across a pair of invitations?” Rex asked as he shifted on the hard bench. “Nobody who lives past the Third Ring could afford to dream about this. I've heard of powerful cogs in the Second who would kill for just one of these seats.”

“I think that these seats are good enough. We can see everything.” Angel responded, without answering the question. She checked over her shoulder again. The guard was standing still and looking bored and sleepy. He was probably right, the make-up of the crowd was almost proof against a raid. “I like sitting near the exit. It makes getting out easier.”

She added, returning her attention to the pit. Well over a hundred spectators had already gathered. Most were wearing masks that concealed the upper portions of their faces. It was a tradition with spectators of the games.

The masks were elaborate and extravagant affairs that grew in magnificence the closer to Center the wearer dwelt. For the inner ring they were dazzling studded with jewels and crests of feathers. The denizens of the outer rings imitated their betters to the best of their ability. Many chose glass beads and Angela saw one mask with glued mirror shards. Rex offered the barest minimum to tradition by wearing what looked to have once been a shirt with two eye holes cut into it.

Angela's mask was slightly worn, but of high quality. She had borrowed it from a friend's hockshop for the evening. An evening at the games wasn't her chosen way to spend her down time. There seemed to be something unnecessary in all the brutality, and she had enough blood.

Men and women were chattering while they waited. Servants weaved paths through the crowd, offering them culinary delights from large trays – gratis on behalf of the game's proprietor. But only for those holding a level four betting chit, or higher.

Angela's hands were empty.

Rex took an entire tray and sent the servant off. “I have been saving whatever I could stash away for a month for this match.” Rex declared around the three or four small sandwiches he had stuffed in his mouth. “Ah, calories! How I've missed you little guys!” Angela, for her part, let him eat in peace. “Tonight's the night. Say good bye to Rex the Hound. I've backed the right man here, then I'm going to retire to Ring Three.”

“Only Ring Three? Why not shoot for the stars?” Rex always took the long shots.

“I'm not greedy. Or stupid. Living any closer to Center and I'd be a splash on the radar of the Police. I ain't as good as you at spinning illusions. Even visiting makes me feel uncomfortable, I become real aware of how much I don't belong with them kind. You know what I' talking about? Ring Three is posh and comfortable enough. Besides, I'll have more money to spend on the finer things like food. I dream about eating real roasted beef once a month, like one of the big wigs. I always wanted to know what real red meat tastes like. Any meat.”

“That's a grandiose dream. How do you plan to make it come true?” From Angela's perspective, that was nearly impossible. She had been one of the domes where one of the actual herds was corralled. Her first impression was that animals were filthy creatures that smelled terrible. Second, there wasn't enough of them to go around. No loss, she preferred the vat grown medallions.

“Don't you worry about that Athena, I'll have money. Money, it can get you anything. With the right contacts of course. And I know people who know how to lay their hands on the finery luxuries that our society has to offer. Perhaps I'll start a family too. Wouldn't that be grand? I bet I'll be able to afford a wife AND a couple kids!”

“Oh?” Angela asked, only half listening. “Do you have a dame already picked out?”

“Not yet...” He trailed off as he thought for a moment. “Maybe I could marry in to one of the respectable families. Don't know. Laying my hands on the paperwork to prove my certification would be tricky. Or better, a pretty, lively lass from Ring Seven. I like that. A girl who won't be too snooty and instead quite grateful and appreciative of a man in my position.”

“If you move to Ring Three, what will you do with your zoo?”

“Wha'da'ya mean? Take them with me?”

“You won't be able to find a building manager up there who'll let you in with all the contraband you have.”

“Hey, I'm smart. Probably smarter than even the craftiest building manager. I'll get around any idiotic rules that a lowly squat throws at me. No problem. Guess I should start thinking up some deviltry, I have a feeling that I'm going to need it soon.”

“How do you plan to transport the animals?” Rex just winked. Angela shrugged. She ran over a list of other possible dogs that she would be willing to work with. Who she could afford to partner with. It was a lightweight undertaking as the list was very short indeed.

Up front, near the pit, large screens began to unroll. Conversations ceased abruptly as the spectators rushed to their seats. The house lights began to dim and the screens flickered to life.

The announcer spoke, the speakers screamed and the noise cut off with a sputter. A couple moments later a man's voice returned. “Testing. Testing. Alright! Here we go! Greetings gentle patrons of the humanities. We have worked diligently these many months to bring you the finest contest between the most fearsome outcasts that Indy has ever seen. Our proprietor bids you all welcome and enjoyment for the coming night of celebration of all the vibrancy that is life!”

The crowd cheered.

“We have a full night of excitement for you all! And the excitement will cumulate with the fight of a life time. Remember that we are vidding this for all the poor folks who could not afford to be here tonight in the city of Chi, so show your enthusiasm and the superiority of out city for all of the citizens of Indy!” The announcer ran through a list of the thrills that were in store for them that night. By the end the crowd was cheering at the tops of their lungs.

In a brief lull Rex leaned over and said. “Good. No Rat Baiting.” There was a touch of relief as he glanced over at Angela. It seemed that she wasn't alone in her distaste for that most wasteful and bloody sport. Sadly, Ratcatchers were paid well to bring in prey for Baiting events. The public loved them. A good hunt that brought in a dozen extraordinarily fine specimens could net the mercenary more credits than entire Manufacturing families made in two years.

The first game of the evening was a Gauntlet.

A group of Mice were released in a specially built labyrinth, usually in an old building that was sealed off from the rest of the city. When they were released Cats were set on them. The Mice often outnumbered the Cats two to one, and most often the Mice were the fastest and most nimble minors that could be rounded up. They made for better sport, but were easier for the Cats to stun and then haul back to the cage. The Cats were expected to go easy on their prey. Skilled Mice were a valuable commodity and difficult to replace.

The game was over when all the Mice were returned to the cage. The Cat with the most captures won the game. Points were deducted if the Mice were excessively battered, and a death would almost certainly cost the match.

The music mounted and the lights flashed as the cameras cycled through, touring the arena. The gates opened and the Mice bolted. A good pack. Mostly outcasts. Strong and fast. They scattered through the abandoned building, and the cameras followed.

“Have you ever considered participating in some of these? You have the right skills and we've taken on harder targets than a bunch of unarmed kids.” Rex asked. “I really wanted to get onto a team for a long time. But you need some good connections. But think of the fame and glory you could win. Not to mention the wealth and women. Some of the better Cats take home quite a living. What do you think the best strategy for the Mice is?”

“Unless the mice find an unassailable hiding place, moving around is usually the best bet.”

“Yeah, but if you're out and about, you might run into one of the hunters. And that means being stunned and caught.”

“If they catch you hiding, then they have you in a corner. And eventually they will find you. Then you have nowhere to run.”

“Ah yeah, I guess you're right. Sometimes I wonder how the Cats find their prey so easily.”

“I think that they have helpers watching the feeds, at least in some events. They keep their Cats informed by radio.”

“Really?” Rex was scandalized by the suggestion. The games were as sacred as they were proscribed. The warriors who battled in the arenas were heroes. To cheat... Nobody wanted to believe that. “Who do you have on this one? And by what spread?” Rex asked.

“McClean by two, maybe three if he's lucky.”

“Really? You don't think Owens' strength and speed gives him an edge?”

“He's strong and fast. But he blows out easily and ends up dragging if the match goes for more than a couple hours. McClean is smart and paces herself better.”

“Owens has those long and gangly arms and legs. He can reach places where McClean could never go and he has that excellent reach. That is a huge. Especially when one of the Mice lodges itself behind a barrier or gets stuck in a vent.”

“Maybe.”

“Want to lay a wager?”

“I thought you spent your money.”

“I did.”

“Then what were you planning to bet with?”

“Favors.” Rex had a gleam in his eye and Angela suspected she knew what he'd be after. She nodded and they shook hands.

Spectators ohhed and awed as the Cats stalked their prey. Cheered with each pounce. And applauded with each capture or especially daring escape. The outcome was always inevitable, the mice would be caught. But buy who and how? These questions fed the adrenaline so devoid in their daily lives.

The match ran for three hours. McClean pulled it by three. “Damn it. Now who am I going to find to smuggle the zoo?”

There were other diversions during the Gauntlet. Fights between opponents using their fists. Races. Juggling and plays. All as the furor built, rose and amassed for the long awaited main event.

There was a whining noise that signaled that the screens were being rolled up. Cameras were being swiveled into position and with a sudden, blinding flash the arena was flooded with light. The main event had begun. Hundreds of people stood at one and cheered. Angela covered her ears against the tumult.

She looked over her shoulder again. The guard was no longer bored. He was at full attention and watching the ring as intently as the rest of the crowd. Rex was standing and cheering, pumping his fists as he danced. “Now it's time for the big pay off!”

“Please welcome respectfully our guest, the beloved Champion of Dome Chi! Here to spill blood for your delight and fight for the honor and pride of his adopted city, Eirick Who Jams the Gates of the Underworld!” A man in a chrome mask and leather loin cloth was pushed out of the gate. His skin hairless and tanned. His body was hard and lean. Very lean. His corded muscles were wrapped tightly in a shirt of scars. Several long knives dangled from the leather straps that were slung across his powerful chest. “Vultures follow Eirick, a man bereft of fear. In his hundred battles he has been impaled three times and survived, while all of his foes have gone to feed the worms.”

Eirick drew one of his knives and stalked the perimeter scratching a line on the wall.

He paced the pit warily like a caged, wild animal, his head swinging back and forth and glaring death at the audience. They lapped it up and cheered loudly. Angela thought that they wouldn't be so eager without the five centimeters of plexiglass dome that protected the spectators from the pit.

“Please welcome, good citizens, our current champion. Grellnock Skullsplitter. A warrior who's gaze freezes his foes.” Grellnock pushed the gate aside and stepped in. Taller than Eirick by half a meter, the champion of Indy was a wall of muscle and fat that would have blotted out the sun if he had run free. If the Champion of Chi had two like brothers, all three could have crawled inside the giant's skin with room to spare. His massive fists and forearms were clad in gloves of articulated steel plates. Shards and bristles of sharpened metal points bristled from the steel plates. He looked like an enormous bear walking on hind legs.

“Where do you think they found that giant?” Rex asked. “I hope closer to Chi than Indy. I don't like the idea of a horde of brutes stalking around our perimeter. Damn, but the Rangers would have their hands drenched in blood.”

“The ones who survived. We'd be forced to recycle a good number of soldiers. I think that happening on a band of them would make the start of a terrible day.”

“Assuming that they didn't jump you first. Word came from a friend of mine who went on a deep patrol, he said that some of the tribes have become warlike and wily. His team was out in the bush for a week and barely caught a scent of a one of them. Then one night a hundred bloodthirsty maniacs jumped out of the bushes. My friend's platoon lost half of their count. He said that they killed dozens of the animals, and then the Brass sent them out a month later to find the village and raze it.”

Eirick had crouched down as the gate opened. His full attention and fury focused on the door and the lumbering monster that emerged. He hissed. The wiry man's face was burned with rage as he coiled like a spring and launched himself at the lumbering giant, a knife appearing in his other hand.

Grellnock stepped aside with alarming speed and grace and swung his claw at Eirick's head.

“I hope he's a freak among his tribe.” Rex exclaimed in quiet awe as the giant pressed the attack on the smaller man. Chi was dancing backwards, weaving, ducking and rolling to avoid the onslaught. A single swipe and his body would be broken.

Eirick leaped forward on the attack, rolling past the Bear. A long gash opened up across Grellnock's thigh. The giant roared and kicked out his injured leg, catching Eirick in the chest, throwing the smaller man three meters across the arena. Eirick's body slammed against the wall, stealing his breath, as Grellnock knelt and gripped the wound between two large mitts.

First blood Chi.

Eirick struggled back up onto his feet and stumbled forward dazed. The Bear snarled and rose to meet his foe. They began circling each other anew, the smaller man slashing and feinting, reposte followed remise. Eirick and Grellnock gathered a new collection of gashes and punctures across their scarred skins. Blood gushed and the gladiators slowed their furious steps.

The wiry foreigner struck again, carving a lump of fat from the giant's side.

Grellnock screamed and flailed his arms, catching Eirick's braid as the smaller man tried to roll away. The giant lifted his bane by the hair and swung the smaller man around like a hammer, as if he were trying to launch his foe from the arena. Eirick swiped his knife at the man's wrist, and flew backwards head over heels until he landed in the sand.

After a long moment on his Eirick rose unsteadily to his feet and shook himself. Grellnock's severed hand fell from his hair. The giant was on his knees and screaming as he clutched the stump that had become a fountain of blood. The rest of the world was lost to him, as Eirick's knife slid between his ribs, and then again, and a third time. Grellnock screamed and lashed out with his good hand, catching hold of Eirick's face.

The giant struggled to stand erect, heaving with the effort as his blood soaked the sand at his feet. Eirick thrashed his arms and legs, trying to free himself from the larger gladiator's enormous hand and powerful grip. More gashes appeared Grellnock's flesh. The giant bellowed and rage and he began to shake the champion of Chi.

There was a loud pop, followed by a hollow grinding. Eirick's arms dangled uselessly as his body fell limp. Grellnock tossed the corpses aside like a rag doll. The Champion of Indy took a half step forward and then collapsed, falling down face first into the mud, bleeding out around Eirick's last knife in his Triumph.

Deafening silence ruled the room for the space of several heartbeats following the final collapse of the Indy's champion. Then the howls of

“This situation won't end well.” Angela jumped down from her bench and peeked out into the tunnel.

“Ah hell. No, that isn't, no!” Rex said. He threw his chit down onto the ground and stomped on it. “I can't believe that that little runt won. I'm going to kill that runt myself!” Runt, he was taller than Rex, though Rex looked broader.

“Grellnock won.”

“Really?”

“Most likely. They're both dead. I guess Eirick struck his killing blow first. But the Giant was the last still standing. You didn't bet on the challenger, so you should be holding a winning ticket.”

Rex crossed his arms and growled. “I bet on our man to not only strike the killing blow, but to survive the match. The payout was better. Damn, I should have gone with the safe bet...”

Angela sat up straight. Something felt wrong. She cut Rex off as she strained her ears. The cadence of running feet rippling through the tunnel that they had entered. “Trouble.” She said. The tantrum ceased without a sputter as Rex became fully alert. He cocked his head and then got up and edged towards the tunnel entrance.

“Wonderful.” Rex spewed a stream of profanity as he peaked around the corner and cursed. “Where did you get your tickets from Athena?” He stepped back and glanced quickly at the mob. Nobody was giving any attention to the tunnels. They were near rioting.

“From a favored client. They came by courier.”

“Well, you've been betrayed or tricked. But either way, now we know why we didn't have to sit through baiting. We're going to have to run through it instead. I wonder if they got cameras pointing at us for the entertainment of the outside. I damned well hope that we survive.”

“Why are you so pressed? You're destitute again and likely to end up in the gutter if we escape.”

“Hey, alive and broke ain't so bad so long as you get the alive part. That way I can keep going and try to find my fortune. As the old rhyme goes, Live to play another day. Man's gotta have something to strive for, else life would get powerful boring.”

Angela climbed back up onto the top bench and scanned the room again. Any minute now the soldiers were going to burst into the arena and the carnage would begin. Rex climbed up beside her. He was still complaining. “It's a Cull. Those aren't Peace-keepers Athena. They're not even Rangers. Who are they?” She could hear the cold sweat dripping down his face in his voice. Rex was never frightened and rarely bothered. Angela couldn't blame him. She felt like her knees were about to give out.

“They looked like the Hammer of the Heavens to me.”

“They exist? I thought that the Hammer was a myth. What the hell is going on?” Rex looked around frantically for a bolt hole to dive into. “I knew I shouldn't have accepted your invitation. Momma always said that there was no such thing as a free lunch. I always get into trouble when I forget that stupid rule. Greed is going to be my downfall!”

Angela wanted to strike the man. He often let himself be swept away before a fight. Instead she took a hold of his shoulder and pointed towards the pit. A crew was working hard to remove the carcasses. They were entering and exiting through a pair of “I think that may do.” Rex looked up, following her finger.

“Maybe.” He said slowly, nodding as he studied the fence. “Looks like they built it to keep the fighters in. But toe-holds might be hard to come by.” The footsteps were growing closer. In a minute or two the Fanatics would be wading into the crowd. Angela glanced at one of the cameras. It was pointed straight at her. She touched her mask to make sure it was still in place.

Some faces in the crowd had turned back towards the tunnel. Mouths opened in screams that were swallowed by the surrounding din. Those newly awakened to the danger pushed away from the door. More faces turned backwards. More screams. A few broke away from the mob and darted for the tunnels.

Bullets tore through the air.

“Now!” Angela cried a heartbeat before the first soldier stepped through the portal. Her long legs carried her down across the tops of the bench seats of the bleachers. She felt Rex follow close at her heels as she leaped up atop the crowd. More gunshots and more screams of terror and pain. Projectiles flew past her, tearing at her jumpsuit.

Angela pushed as quickly as possible, stepping on faces and heads as she waded over the panicked crowd. Please let them hold together, she prayed as she waded towards the pit. Bullets were ricocheting off the Feglass.

Her fingers curled around the top ridge of the fence. Steel barbs dug into her flesh as Angela pulled herself off the crowd and over the wall. She landed heavily in the sand and rolled to her feet. A moment later she heard Rex land behind her.

“What are you...?” The man started. Rex rammed the heel of his hand into the man's jaw, toppling him over backwards into the blood-soaked sand. Angela took one of Eirick's knives from the worker's belt and transferred the weapon to her own. The rest of the laborers stopped their tasks and backed away from the intruders.

Angela through herself shoulder first at a heavy metal door under a tall arch. The Arch that Grellnock had entered through. Pushing at the handle she tried to force it open. The door wouldn't budge.

Rex dug in the sand and found a knife. The tip was broken, but it would do. “The door! How do you open it?” He demanded as he swung around the stub of the blade. “Now, or I'll gut the lot of you and then find your families!”

A short, broad man with cropped hair stepped forward. His hands were shaking as he unlatched a metal ring about the size of his fist and tossed it at Rex's feet. The mercenary picked the ring up and examined it. The ring had been strung through some twenty finger-length bits of metal that clinked together as he shook the ring. Keys! Angela exclaimed silently. Actual keys! How old was this tunnel that they still used keys?

“What...?” Rex began to ask as Angela yanked the ring from his hand.

“Watch them!” She ordered her companion as she searched the door for the key-hole. A moments inspection lead her to what must have been the lock. She singled out the first key and tried to jam it into the opening. It resisted, she spun it around and tried again. No dice.

“Hurry Athena, whatever you're doing.” Rex said nearly over her shoulder. He had backed up as far as he could go. The screams had diminished noticeably, even to her distracted ear. The keys rattled in her hand as she shook with fright. Methodically she tried the next key, and the next as Rex prodded her onwards.

The seventeenth key turned with a soft click as the lock gave way. Angela lifted the latch and pushed the door open with her hip. “Let's go!” The Ratcatcher called as she slipped through portal and into the concealing darkness.