Alien Gladiator's Prize Page 4

Gage shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. It was awful having to admit that he had no idea what would happen next. His words were measured, but confusion was thick between his words.

  She frowned at him. “Who are you? Why are you here? You don’t look like them.” She nodded toward the door and he knew that she was referring to the Saithin guards that protected her, stopped her from getting away. They made sure she was safe, she couldn’t forget about that.

  But Gage was too taken aback by the fact that he couldn’t predict anything she was going to do. He couldn’t predict what her emotions would be. It didn’t matter who he was or why he was there. What mattered was that being around this female made things impossible.

  He hated it. He felt as though he had been incapacitated in some way.

  “Time,” the guard called.

  Gage turned around and walked to the door.

  “Where are you going?” the female called after him.

  Gage didn’t answer. He had to get away from her as soon as possible. He had to figure out what the hell had happened to him – was it only when he was around her? Or had he suddenly lost his gift? He had no idea.

  When the door slid shut, Gage spun toward the guard, his expression fierce. The guard cowered away, and Gage had known that he would have reacted in fear. He was a gladiator. The guard wouldn’t be able to do anything if he decided to attack.

  Not that he was going to do anything to the guard. But he’d had to find out whether he could still predict what would happen, whether he could still sense the reactions that would follow.

  He could. His ability wasn’t gone.

  It was just that damned human female.

  Gage had no idea what had happened in there, why things were so strange around her. But he couldn’t focus on that now. He had to push it away.

  After all, he had a fight to see to. He had to focus on winning, on predicting the right outcome, on doing what he always did.

  So that he would win.

  Chapter Five

  Amelia

  Everything felt like it was coming undone. Nothing seemed right. Amelia had been abducted by aliens. It should not even have been possible. It was crazy that it had happened at all.

  Yet, here she was, being kept in a room with a cot.

  Not to mention the asshole who had come to see her. He had been staring at her, his face only inches from hers when she had opened her eyes.

  He had damn near given her a heart attack.

  He had been an alien too. She hadn’t thought that at first – she had thought he was human. He had looked so close to human… But he had spoken an alien language. Even though the chip in her neck translated it for her and she had understood every word.

  His eyes had been so unnatural – the palest blue Amelia had ever seen, almost white, with nothing but a blue circle around it. Unsettling. His gaze was deep and filled with expression at the same time.

  His hair had been almost translucent and it made him look completely foreign.

  Alien. She laughed bitterly at her joke.

  After he had left her room, the door sliding shut between them – and no questions answered – she had fallen back in her cot and closed her eyes. Her head ached dully. It was a thud between her temples, something that caused her to struggle to think around it.

  As she lay there, she tried to think about everything she had experienced since the moment the strange mantis-like creatures had abducted her. Honestly, the identity of the man who had been in her room was the least of her worries.

  It was easier to think clearly now that she had gotten some sleep, so she focused on the details. The spacecraft that had brought her to a strange planet, the dome that she had been taken into, the alien lab, and the scientist. Or Doctor, she thought. He could have been a doctor, since he had implanted some kind of technology in her neck.

  Before she could think further, the doors slid open and Amelia sat up, ready to defend herself if she had to. The Saithin guard walked in – Saithin, she knew now, because she had heard some of them speak. Although none of it made sense to her.

  “You are awake,” the guard said in its clicking language, the words translated by her language synchronizer.

  Amelia nodded.

  “Come,” the guard said and turned. He waited until Amelia stood and followed before walking.

  She was taken through the maze of corridors again, into a different section, and led to a bedroom. This bedroom was much more comfortable than the bare room she had woken up in.

  It had more furnishing too. A plush carpet, papered walls, a dresser, a bed that looked comfortable. The door even led to a small cubicle with a toilet and a bathroom.

  “This is your room for now,” the guard said.

  What was going on? Why was she given a comfortable room? What was the point in keeping her happy?

  A moment later, the Saithin guard disappeared and Amelia walked around the room. She touched the dresser – stocked with perfumes and makeup, hairbrush, facial wipes, and nail polish. Although it looked different, the containers nothing she recognized, she knew what they were.

  It was almost as if they gave her the opportunity to pretty herself up.

  Back on Earth, Amelia had never bothered – it took time and what was the point? Being beautiful wasn’t going to offer her any scientific answers.

  Now, she ran her fingers over the bottles of different shapes and sizes, wondering what the hell they wanted her to do with it.

  Before long, another Saithin guard arrived. He held out a coat hanger – again, different from what she knew, but she recognized it for what it was. On it was the most skimpy piece of translucent fabric she had ever seen.

  “Put this on,” the guard ordered.

  Amelia looked at the creature. “Are you kidding me? I’m not wearing that.”

  “You wear it,” came the answer. “Put it on yourself, or we will dress you.”

  The statement was harsh, and Amelia shivered. She didn’t think for one second that it was a bluff. And she couldn’t imagine being held down and stripped by one of these guards, then forced into an outfit. She would rather do it herself if she had a choice.

  She took the outfit from the guard and stepped back.

  “A little privacy?” she demanded. She tried to make her voice harder, strong, even though she felt small, like shrinking away. She wanted to crawl up in the corner and cry.

  The guard left her room, allowing her to get dressed in private. Amelia was relieved.

  She stripped off the pajamas she still wore, the only link she still had to home. She didn’t want the pajamas to disappear, so she shoved them underneath the bed, hoping that no one would find them there and take them away.

  She got dressed in the skimpy outfit, frowning as she did so. Noticing that there was a mirror at the foot of the bed, she walked toward it. When she stood in front of it, she cringed.

  Amelia didn’t have a bad body, everyone had always commented on how good a shape she was in, even though she did nothing to keep it up. She didn’t have time to train, to jog or cycle, like some of her friends.

  She was comfortable in her skin, but still, Amelia had never dressed in anything this skimpy. She hated skirts and dresses in general, preferring to cover up with long pants and blouses with high necks. It was just better that way. Men took her more seriously in the science world when they couldn’t see anything that could distract them.

  She knew some of the biggest brains in the world, but every man became a Neanderthal when it came down to the female body.

  In disgust, Amelia studied her body. The skimpy outfit covered only the necessary parts, everything else was on display. It left barely anything to the imagination.

  There was only one reason something like this would happen – she would only be forced to wear an outfit like this if she was to be kept for her body.

  Amelia was under no illusions that it might be for display only. This was about slavery. Sex slavery, to be exact.

&n
bsp; She shivered again.

  The guards returned, her door sliding open. Was she ever going to be able to lock it, she wondered.

  “Come,” the guard said, ushering her into the hallway.

  As soon as she was in the hallway, Amelia realized that she wasn’t the only female that was being kept in the dome. There were a couple of other females, all from different alien species. She didn’t know any of the species. She hadn’t even known that aliens existed until now, but somehow, she knew they were all female.

  And they had all been taken against their will.

  They were forced to follow the guards toward a transport pod. As far as they walked, Amelia studied their surroundings. Sodium lights were placed at every couple of feet, and the concrete corridors were raw, neither tiled or carpeted, painted or papered.

  The worst part was that there were no windows. There was no escape.

  At intervals, there were air vents. So that they had breathable air, no doubt. That made Amelia wonder – were they underground?

  As Amelia walked, she tried to map the doors and hallways, trying to remember the direction they went, when they turned, and where.

  Again, it was very confusing.

  Another door opened in front of them, at the end of one of the hallways, and they were all ushered into a pod. It was round, the walls slightly concave. The guards had to punch in a couple of different codes on the screen for the pod to move. That would be problematic if she wanted to escape.

  The pod flew upward, and perhaps even across, and Amelia held onto a rail that encircled them.

  When the pod came to a stop, the doors hissing open, they were ushered out of the pod again, the guards serious about getting them to obey.

  Everyone listened. No one fought back. Amelia wondered how that was possible – if they all stood together, surely, they could fight? There had to be a reason. Something she didn’t know yet.

  When she stepped out, she realized that they were on a stage. It overlooked the floor of a humongous, domed stadium.

  A glass barrier blocked them off from the rest of the stadium, allowing them to watch and to be watched, but they couldn’t go anywhere. They were prisoners.

  Amelia glanced toward the door where they had come from, but two guards stood there, making sure that no one could escape.

  As Amelia watched, the stands filled with alien races, viewers filtering into their seats. A murmur of conversation permeated the stage and she realized that they could hear what was happening, even though they were boxed in.

  A moment later, an announcer’s voice filled the space, introducing two aliens. Her bio-enhancer explained everything, translating the words, telling her what was going on.

  This was a fight. A championship. Between two gladiators.

  Amelia was horrified. How could this be possible? It had seemed to her that this race was quite advanced – the technology that she had encountered so far was much more advanced than what she had seen on Earth.

  Some of the scientists that she knew would lose their minds over what the scientist in the lab had used, not to mention the screens she had seen along the way, the doors that slid as if on command, although there weren’t any cameras that she could see anywhere.

  But gladiators, fighting? Perhaps even to death? It seemed so incredibly primitive. Ridiculous, even. How could creatures that were so advanced entertain themselves with something so pathetic?

  The first gladiator was a red-skinned alien, with a long, thick braid of hair down its back that seemed almost like a tail. Intersecting tattoos covered most of its body in a strange and terrifying way. His almost-glowing dark eyes slid towards the stage, eyeing the women.

  His gaze was neutral, almost assessing, but Amelia felt the urge to cover up. She was completely exposed, and it was clear that the alien was looking them over. The presenter mentioned a name that Amelia couldn’t make out – the names were also strange.

  On the far side of the arena, Amelia noticed what looked almost like a VIP booth, with only a few spectators. Were they important? How did they fit in?

  The red-skinned gladiator glanced toward one of them, and it seemed like they communicated before the gladiator nodded.

  The coach of some kind?

  When the second gladiator stepped into the arena, Amelia recognized him.

  The pale, white-haired alien that had been in her room before.

  She stepped a little closer to the glass, her hands gripping the edge. What was this? Why had he been in her room? Again, the questions swirled in her mind, but there was nothing she could do to find answers. He had refused to answer her, and she wasn’t going to try speaking to the guards.

  Amelia considered talking to the other women, but that didn’t look like it was going to work either. They seemed either bored or terrified. Depending on how long they had been slaves, Amelia imagined.

  She turned her attention back to the ring. The gladiator was called Gage, she learned, and he clearly had a lot of attitude. He strutted around the arena, waving his hands, warming up the crowd. He clapped his hands above his head, getting the crowd to clap along, to encourage him.

  And they loved it. They were going wild.

  Amelia noticed that Gage didn’t have any kind of communication with the VIP members in the booth. He didn’t even look in their direction. Was he acting alone? Did he not have a coach?

  By the confidence and arrogance he was displaying, Amelia imagined that he believed he didn’t need anything like that.

  Of course, she had no idea what it was about, maybe the VIP members had nothing to do with the gladiators and someone in the booth was merely a friend of the other fighter.

  Amelia didn’t have time to try to figure it out. The presenter counted down and then the fight started.

  Watching the two creatures fight was incredible. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Gage, who moved almost as if he was dancing. No matter what the other gladiator did, he seemed to know what to do. He countered every attack.

  As Amelia watched, it started to dawn on her – this was a fight, and these people had paid to watch. All of that made sense – she had seen the same in movies and she had read up on her history, once upon a time in college. Before she had decided which direction she was going to go in.

  What she didn’t understand was what she was doing there. She had been dressed up in an awful outfit, she had been paraded onstage, and she had been given a very comfortable room, albeit a prison.

  Now, they were being forced to watch a battle. And then? What was the point?

  Again, Amelia wondered if she should ask someone. But there was no one to ask – the other woman might give her answers but she didn’t want to speak to them in front of the guards. The guards weren’t going to tell her anything, she didn’t have to try asking to know that.

  It was best to ride this out for now. Watch the fight, see what happened afterward. When she was alone with the women, she would try to speak to them.

  Amelia still felt like she had to try to escape. It was just that the more she thought about it, the more she paid attention to her environment, the more she wondered if it was possible at all.

  Chapter Six

  Gage

  The Palean was a good fighter. There was no doubt about it. Not only did he know how far his strength went, but he also knew how to judge what Gage would do. It looked like this one had studied his species, something that Gage didn’t know the other fighters did in general, and it was counting in his favor.

  Luckily, Gage was better.

  Not only was he a strong fighter, but his powers of prediction, sensing what was going to come, helped him. A lot.

  They fought with weapons, both of them. There were different divisions, and Gage usually entered the divisions where they were allowed to use weapons. He didn’t mind hand-to-hand combat, but he preferred skill, preferred using the weapons he had grown up with – some of which he had developed over time to be better and stronger than they had been.

  But
the Palean was putting up a good fight.

  Alothrax, that was what this gladiator was called. The presenter had mentioned the name at the start of the fight, and Gage liked to remember the gladiators who held their own. Worthy opponents, that was how he saw them. He wouldn’t mind going up against this one again if they got the opportunity.

  The Palean had the unique ability to use telekinesis, although it was only with small objects. They weren’t able to lift large objects as a whole. But it helped this fighter.

  When Gage threw a knife at Alothrax, anticipating where the fighter was going to be, Alothrax used his gift. The knife stopped in mid-air and fell to the floor.

  Gage used the opportunity to attack. While the other fighter’s attention was on the knife, he hit the alien in the stomach. With a grunt, Alothrax doubled over, gripping his abdomen.

  It wouldn’t last. Gage knew that the Paleans were stronger than they looked, and they liked to use trickery to fight. Pretending to be hurt, allowing the enemy to come close enough, and then countering the attack.

  Gage wasn’t going to allow this alien to get a hold of him, to beat him in a fight. Gage was the favorite – the way the crowd responded to him was proof. And he really wanted to win this championship.

  Even if it was just to get more time with the human female again.

  He immediately shook her from his thoughts. No, he wouldn’t allow himself to think about the human. Not now, when he had to focus on the fight. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  Gage grabbed his laser web, unclipping it from his belt, and snapped it in the air.

  Clearly, Alothrax was taken aback. Very few fighters had access to these kinds of weapons, but Gage had been able to buy a lot of rare weaponry with the money he had won in previous championships. It gave him a leg up on the competition too.

  There were no rules about what they were allowed to use and what they weren’t. After all, he had won his money fair and square, and he was allowed to buy with it whatever he wanted.

  Gage used the Palean’s surprise against him, whipping out his antimatter pistol and aiming. Alothrax realized the danger and stepped aside, but Gage had already expected him to do that. He fired, not aiming to kill. He liked the gladiator, respected his ability to fight. It was never about fighting to the death, not for Gage.