Chapter 83: In Line

  The Wellach Cup Arena had impressed Chloe once, though she hadn't much liked it. After battlecruisers and manufacturing stations and, of course, the breathtaking scale of the world-city itself, she hadn't believed she would find another arena nearly as impressive.

  She'd been wrong.

  The Etemenos Cup was a tradition at least as old as the world-city. Before Etemenos's construction, it had been simply the Imperial Cup. For all Chloe knew, it predated her ancestors' rise to power, too. It was as old as people had been piloting mecha, so it probably went back at least as far as gravitic drive and the shields that had spawned mechaneer culture from military necessity.

  The world-city of Etemenos had arguably been built for its arena, not the other way around.

  Except for the Senate Chamber, which had been the throne room of Chloe's ancestors, almost the entirety of Etemenos's central core was given over to the tournament grounds. Landing platforms admitted mecha, mechaneers, and, of course, vast crowds. Stands that could, and would, seat tens of millions formed a layer beneath those. Ticket booths for the common seats and security checkpoints for the Oligarchical and senatorial boxes mingled with the stands. Sandwiched between lay the mecha bays, more than any fleet could match, and temporary housing for the crews required to keep the mecha running. Then, finally, the battlegrounds, hundreds now that would be paired down to first four, then two, then only one as contestants were eliminated. For the final match, the entirety of Etemenos's core would become the battlefield and the contestants could whirl all the way around the Senate Chamber.

  Chloe could feel the weight of the place's tradition as she and Rudy stepped into the line of young men and women pushing toward the registry.

  She could also feel the weight of so many people. She was doubly glad they'd left Milissa behind. She'd certainly never seen such a crowd in her life. More importantly, she'd never felt such a crowd. Anticipation was palatable in the air, and apprehension, so thick it made Chloe feel queasy. It probably would have made Milissa faint.

  Chloe imagined herself lugging her friend's unconscious body through the press and had to chuckle.

  Staying with Rudy wasn't easy. He weaved expertly through the crowd and he couldn't drag her along the way he would have before she realized what he was doing to her powers. She had to stay about five meters from him, but she also couldn't let him out of sight. Chloe wasn't the tallest woman in the press, which was a rarity in and of itself, and she was certainly dwarfed by some of the rangier and more massive men. Rudy, by contrast, seemed to fall on the short, slight end of the mechaneer spectrum.

  Chloe ducked through a pair who were taking too long to reach their queue – and bumped into a familiar bulk.

  “Rocket God” Gil Bartlet hadn't won the Wellach Cup, of course, so he had to sign up with everyone else. Of all the people Chloe didn't want to run into, he ranked just behind an Animus Hunter. Especially of all the people she didn't want to literally run into.

  Which she just had.

  Gil started to turn to see who'd given him the offense of invading his personal space.

  Chloe ducked away and tried to hide her face. She was disguised, of course, as Rudy was, but Gil had gotten a good look at her once. He'd be paying plenty of attention now. And he'd sure have no problem turning her over to the Feds.

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  Chloe managed to back up into the pair she'd just ducked through, and rather than give way, they angrily pushed her off.

  “Watch where you're going, lady,” one snapped.

  Chloe started to turn to snap back at him.

  Her eyes met Rocket God Gil's.

  “You,” the huge mechaneer said.

  Chloe froze.

  “You got a thing for me, little girl?” He leaned closer, leering. “Or you just damned clumsy?”

  “I feel like we had this conversation before,” Chloe said. “Except without the really disgusting undertones. Or the implications of bad taste.”

  She couldn't get away – so she got closer, right up in his face. It was easy, since the crowd encouraged them to press closer just so they'd be out of the way. All she could do was try to keep Gil too mad to think straight and pray he didn't recognize her as someone on the Feds’ most-wanted list.

  “You callin' me ugly?” Gil demanded.

  “Not at all,” Chloe said. “You're quite handsome for your type, actually.”

  He grinned.

  Chloe grinned right back. Saccharine-sweet, she said, “It would be bad taste because you're a loud, obnoxious bully. Your looks don't even enter the equation.”

  Gil's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Why, I oughtta –”

  “What? Take a swing at me? In front of the whole crowd, in the world-city at the heart of human space? You can't go around hitting people you call ‘little girl’ and expect folks to look the other way because you're the big fish in the small pond, Gil,” Chloe said. She suspected her grin looked more like a grimace, stretched as taut as it was. “This pond is a heck of a lot bigger than you are. Except you're not the big fish in Wellach's pond any more, either, are you?”

  Gil snarled a curse. He curled his hamhock fists.

  But he turned on his heel and shoved his way back into the crowd.

  Crisis averted, she was pretty sure. Even if he identified her, he was angry and infamous enough that the Feds probably wouldn't pay him any mind unless he dragged her along with him or he could actually accuse her of something worse than a smart mouth.

  Correction, she thought. One crisis averted. A new one had arisen.

  She didn't see Rudy anywhere.

  He must have been carried through the crowd.

  She knew the way back to their hotel on the fifth ring, or thought she did. Trouble was, they'd taken one of the public shuttles to the core, and Rudy was the one with what little money they had between them. They should've worked out a plan in case they got separated, but even Rudy, who'd been at the Etemenos Cup many times, had always come in sponsored. He hadn't realized how intense the crowd could become.

  Chloe had no idea how to find him.

  Until she heard his voice rising above the crowd.

  “Screw this,” Rudy said loudly. “I don't have to put up with this crap, no matter how dramatic an entrance it would be to wait until I got to the sign-up booth.”

  Chloe's blood turned to ice.

  What was he doing?

  “Hey, you,” Rudy shouted. He sounded distant, but it was hard to tell with all the noise – though the noise was rapidly dying down to a murmur. “You report for the news, right? Well I've got a story for you.”

  Oh, Principle, Rudy, Chloe thought. What in the world are you doing?

  The crowd started thinning, or at least pressing in a different direction. Rudy was obviously making a scene.

  Chloe had an awful feeling she knew what it was.

  She managed to squeeze forward to the front of the crowd.

  Rudy stood on a raised step.

  He'd wiped off his disguise, and he'd changed his flight suit's color back to familiar – famous - neon red.

  No one could mistake him.

  He said, “I'm Rudolf Kaine Algreil. You may know me as the Crimson Phoenix.”

  Rudy, Chloe thought, you are one hundred percent insane.

  He saw her in the crowd and winked. Quickly, he mouthed, 'trust me.'

  Do something trustworthy, then, Chloe thought. But she didn't dare speak.

  “You may also know me,” Rudy said, “as the new Oligarch of Algreil Aerospace.”