Over in the main building, Ryan stood behind the closed doors, waiting for his time to enter the circle. “Only ten?”
“A few must have dropped out,” Brody explained, “signing up just for show and an early quitting time. Or the sec chief might have tossed out a few men he thought would only get in the way.”
“…and in the end, only one will remain. The victor!”
“To the victor go the spoils!” the crowd shouted in unison. “To the victor go the spoils!”
The baron looked pleased. He nodded and Krysty was led out onto the stage by a pair of sec men. She had changed yet again, this time into a short skirt and skintight tank top that highlighted all of her curves. She was still wearing her cowboy boots, but a studded collar had been added to her neck.
The baron put out his hand to calm the crowd. “The spoils, yes! Here she is, a shining example of feminine perfection, hot, fiery and a worthy prize for the strongest, most virile male on the farm. Their union will produce a beautiful offspring.”
The baron placed his hand on Krysty’s breast. She tried to move away, but the sec men behind her held her in place.
The sight caused Ryan’s blood to boil with anger.
“Easy, my friend,” Brody said. “You’ve got to chill a few other men before you can get close to him.”
The baron continued. “But before any of that can happen, we must first decide which of these brave males will be allowed to be drowned in this woman’s ample feminine charms. And so, I give you sec chief Grundwold, who will remind you all of the rules.”
The crowd let out a long, loud cheer.
The baron, waving to the crowd, sat on the purple throne set atop the stage. Krysty was brought by his side and was made to sit on pillow at his feet. A chain was attached to her dog collar, with the other end locked to one of the throne’s purple legs.
Grundwold stepped forward. “The last man left standing in the circle is the victor. Rest periods will be called for the removal of bodies from the circle. Wounded combatants can leave the ring of their own free will, or they can be forced out at any time by another combatant, or they can be chilled!
“And so, let the game begin. And as always, to the victor go the spoils!”
The doors to the main building were opened by a sec man standing in the courtyard. “Get out there, you two!”
Ryan and Brody stepped out into the hot afternoon sun and walked along a path kept clear by sec men that led into the circle. There were a few cheers for the two men coming from their own crew, but everyone else kept quiet, saving their loudest cheers for the others.
When Ryan and Brody reached the far end of the circle, they turned to see a white miniwag pull up and two sec men step off the back, heading for the circle. The noise level among the slaves remained constant, but the sec men who were scattered around the courtyard and up in the towers all whistled their approval.
“Richmond and Salazar,” Brody said. “They’re the two meanest sec men on the farm. I doubt they’ll go up against Mog and his animals, but if they’ve entered the game it means they’re looking to chill someone.”
Ryan understood, and he hated the two men instantly. He’d seen plenty of sec men go mad from the power they had over people. These men enjoyed beating slaves and had probably chilled dozens over the years. Their first few had been a mistake, the result of a combination of overeagerness and not knowing when to quit. After the first few, however, chilling got easier, until they needed to chill someone like an addict needed jolt They were here for some fun, to chill and inflict pain and then back out of the fight like cowards. Ryan would see to it that they didn’t leave the circle in the same shape they entered it.
The doors to the big barn opened next, and two pale creatures scrambled across the courtyard and into the circle. Their skin was white, covered by a layer of grime. The rest of their bodies were covered in tattered clothing, and their exposed arms were as thin as blaster barrels. Tufts of black hair stood up on their heads, patches of it coming low on the forehead and shading eyes that were sunk back deep in their sockets. Tongues lolled uselessly out the sides of their mouths as both of them sniffed at the air.