“And now, here he is, the giver of all good things, Baron Fox.”
A round of applause.
The baron walked out onstage with Krysty in tow.
“Krysty!” Ryan exclaimed.
“You know her?” Brody asked.
“That’s his mate,” Mildred answered. “She was captured with us, but the baron seemed to take a shine to her.”
Ryan turned to Mildred. “What is she wearing?”
“I believe that’s lingerie, and she makes it look good.”
Krysty was wearing a lacy black chemise and panties, and a pair of black mules with three-inch heels.
“Greetings,” the baron said. “Today we were very fortunate to come upon new breeding stock.”
A smattering of applause.
“As you can see, this one is absolutely exquisite. I believe she is the finest female we’ve had on the farm for some time.” He walked around Krysty admiring her form. “But rather than have her placed in gen pop and rutted by any who chose to or for me to choose an exclusive stud, I believe she deserves only the best. For that reason, I’ve decided to hold a little contest, a gladiatorial contest in which the victor will be the only one allowed to rut with the red until she is heavy and an offspring is birthed.”
A wave of excitement seemed to course through the assembled slaves, and the cafeteria was filled with the drone of voices.
“The contest will take place tomorrow afternoon in the courtyard between the main building and the front gate,” the baron proclaimed. “Work will end early so that all may watch.”
That brought a cheer.
When the room quieted, the baron continued. “Fighters will be able to leave the arena by one of two ways. Chilled, or by their own will. The last one left will claim the prize.” He paused to admire Krysty one last time. “Those interested can give their name to Norman Bauer.”
Norman Bauer was standing off to the side of the stage. There was a rush of men heading toward him.
“Survival of the fittest,” Mildred said. “Evolution in action.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.
“Charles Darwin was a scientist during Doc’s time who proposed the modern theory of evolution,” Mildred explained. “His principle of natural selection basically said that the strongest survive, and that a species continues to evolve through natural and sexual selection.”
“Meaning what?” Ryan asked.
“Meaning this contest will determine who among the men here is the strongest and it’s only natural that the strongest male mates with the strongest female so that the species produces the best possible offspring.”
Ryan nodded, then got up from the table.
Brody stood, as well.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asked.
Brody put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “There’ll be at least a dozen men in that ring and every one of them is going to want to chill you. If you’re going to break out of here in the next couple of days, you’ll need to be alive to do it. And to stay alive in the arena, you’re going to need someone watching your back, and that’s me.”
“Thanks, Brody,” Ryan said, grateful to have the help. “You’re a good man.”
“You’re a good man, too, Ryan,” Brody responded. “Let’s just hope that for the sake of your woman, you’re also the best.”
Chapter Twenty
Sec chief Ganley was first off the boat as they came aground on the south shore of Erie Lake. The beach stretched some twenty feet back from the water, and beyond that was a tangle of deadwood and choked forest.
The sun was just beginning to set, and they would have to hurry to set up camp. Ganley posted a pair of guards at opposite ends of the campsite where the beach met the forest, and then led the expedition to find firewood for the night.
Deadwood proved easy to find, and thirty minutes later they had a roaring fire burning on the sand and a rack of sturgeon steaks cooking on a spit.
“What are you hoping to find when we get there?” Ganley asked as the group huddled around the fire waiting for the fish to cook. “What kind of mates do you all want?”
“My woman’s got to have all her teeth!” one of the group called out.