23
I got picked up from another clearing not far from where I'd fought that ridiculous fucking cat man, but honestly don't remember the ride from there. The little green short-stack alien tried to talk to me, but I don't remember what she said either. As soon as I was secured in the transport, I fell asleep.
I hadn't slept in a week. Food was easy: I'd gotten some from almost every kill I made off competitors who'd secured supplies from one of the drops. Water was also pretty easy, though I had to go out of my way a bit to get to the stream. Sleep, however, was a non-starter. Alone in a hostile jungle as a competitor in a death game, I just couldn't afford to risk it.
So I killed as many as I could, as fast as I could, figuring my only hope was to end the game before my need for sleep knocked me over. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one working on it, and someone else finishing the job had kept me not only in the game, but alive.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that. When Maximus put me down, I'd felt sure my number was up ... but I hadn't exactly been disappointed. That came later, when he proved too much of a pussy to finish what he started. For a creature that looked to me like an underwear model crossed with a horror movie monster, he'd been surprisingly reluctant to kill.
Those claws were insane. They could have come off a harpy eagle. Maximus broke my shoulder with one shot and ripped it up pretty good in the process. He'd also fractured my ribs, though I wasn't sure how many, when he stomped on me.
Maximus had superior senses, superior reach, superior strength, superior toughness, and comparable speed despite superior size. In a word, I was outclassed.
Ironically, it had been that which saved me. Maximus hadn't been threatened enough by me to 'go for the throat' as it were. If I ever faced him again I'd have to go in with an edge or I was a dead man.
All this went through my mind as I waited for transport, but the painkiller and emergency medical treatment let me go to sleep, so that's what I did.
When I woke up I wasn't back at Liminal Science as expected. Instead, I was in a rather spacious bedroom I didn't recognize. As I thought back on the briefings I'd gotten from Yim, it occurred to me she'd said something about winding up on a campus of some sort along with the other contestants.
So from here on out I was on a scaled-up Big Brother set ... great.
Rolling out of bed, I took stock. The first thing I noticed was that my injuries were gone. My shoulder felt fine, though I had some thin scars, and since I had no trouble breathing my ribs were good now too.
I was also naked and clean. There was a door to my immediate right and another directly across from it on my left. Next to the latter was a sizable TV that took up a good portion of the wall. More interesting to me, though, was the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window next to it. The wall I'd rolled off to face was blank, which I actually found a bit odd until another look around showed me no decorations of any kind save the black drapes currently pulled back to reveal a secondary, filmy privacy curtain straight out of a hotel.
Next to that was a pair of mirror doors I could only assume opened into a closet. I noted with vague annoyance that there were also mirrors on the ceiling over the bed.
Opening the closet revealed several identical jumpsuits in blue and gold: Liminal Science colors. I dressed, including the slip-ons provided for my feet, then confirmed my guess about the bathroom, where I satisfied my needs as I took in the glassed-in, ridiculously over-sized and deep bathtub with rainforest-style showerheads. There were literally several steps to get down into the bath, and just outside the clear glass wall that had the door was a huge rack with towels so big I could have used one as a toga.
There was no paper, but the toilet had a very thorough bidet built into the seat — complete with air dryer — and was larger than I was used to. I wasn't about to fall in or anything, but the commode had obviously been built with bigger butts than mine in mind. The counter had three sinks, was almost a foot higher than was comfortable for me, and had soap in hand-wave dispensers.
The space was mirrored above the mid-point with light tan tiles below and on the floor, edged at every joint by a row of black-and-white tiles sporting a geometric design.
Well, at least the digs were comfortable, though the number of mirrors was obnoxious. The whole place was so similar to a high-end hotel that it seemed like a case of convergent design, which I thought was actually pretty cool.
I crossed the bedroom to the other door and hesitated there a moment. Both doors were pocket-style, with grooves for fingers and, more crucially, no visible locking mechanism.
Oh well. Privacy was just a memory now anyway ... like freedom.
Frowning at the thought, I slid the door open but didn't step through yet, taking in the next room, which wasn't empty.
Oddly, the floor was lowered by a full two steps, which I'd be obliged to take when I did step out. Beyond were an array of couches and comfy-looking chairs upholstered in Liminal blue. Seated there were three women, two of whom I knew and one of which I'd at least seen.
There were other doors on the far side of the room and a space in the far corner to my right that had a counter, fridge, and other basic kitchen stuff. The wall to my left was another window, though the drapes were pulled. The lighting was recessed behind crown molding, and this room, unlike mine — which was carpeted — was a hard, smooth floor of some kind. It was off-white and obviously not wood or tile, but that's all I could tell about it.
Yimshe, Palashai, and the little green girl with the over-sized eyes I'd 'rescued' from the cage in the jungle were all looking steadily at me as I took in the room.
The newcomer's eyes really were huge, taking up fully half her face, and a brilliant blue. She had green skin, a full set of what my brother would have called 'dick-suckin' lips,' and her nose was little more than a pair of slits above them. Her face looked like it had been streamlined forward, reminding me a bit of a shark. I also didn't see any ears, and her head was narrower than I was used to. She had no hair at all that I could see, and was dressed in a jumpsuit of blue, red, and gold. It had a boob window, and she either didn't believe in bras or hadn't been issued one. I could tell she had four nipples on each boob. For someone even shorter than me, this girl's tits were impossible, and I mean that. They were about the same size as Palashai's, and she was stacked at ten feet tall. On someone her size they were freakin' ginormous, and with her seated they pretty much took up all the space between her knees and shoulders.
As I thought back, I knew for sure she hadn't looked like that when she was in the cage. I guarantee I'd have noticed.
"Are you coming out or what?" Palashai asked somewhat testily, giving me a level look.
Blinking, I shrugged and stepped down into the living room, then crossed the space to stand next to a couch tall enough that I could lean against it, which I did as I folded my arms and said, "So? Where are we?"
"We're on the SDM campus," Yim said.
"I meant on the scoreboard," I said wryly, glancing at her. "I know where we're located."
"Oh, you're on top of the leaderboard at the moment, by a wide margin," she said. "You actually set a number of records for the opening event, and — combat kills and traps combined — personally accounted for thirty-four percent of T.D.C.: the total death count. Your nearest competitor was Maximus, with combat kills on fourteen and assists on twenty-three more. Your performance was so outlandish that you've been given the season's first competitor tag, which usually doesn't happen in the opening event."
"What's that?" I asked.
"A nickname. It's how you'll show up on the leaderboards from now on. They're calling you 'Silent Knight.'"
"Well ... I've been called worse," I said, bemused.
Palashai said, "It's good you have such a commanding lead too, because from here on out you're at a serious disadvantage."
"Which is?" I asked.
"You're socially retarded," Pala and Yim said in near-perfect unison.
I snorted, unable to help the grin, but Yim gave me a narrow-eyed look as she said, "This isn't funny, Taz. You need to seriously up your game if you want to stay in the top twenty, much less hold the lead."
"Okay, we'll talk more about that in a minute. Who's this?" I asked, lifting my chin toward Tits McToo'Beaucoup.
She stood up when I asked about her and I won't lie: I almost fell over. As she straightened, her boob size translated to height. I mean it literally flowed out of her chest and into the rest of her. I'd estimated her height while seated at maybe four foot something. Once erect, she was my height, and her boobs were ... there, but c-cups after what I'd just seen looked kiiind of tiny by comparison.
"What the fuck?" I muttered, looking her up and down. What I had just witnessed was, without question, the weirdest thing I had ever seen in real life.
"Name's Phoebe," she said, then smiled, revealing very sharp triangular teeth as she added, "and I'm guessing I'm the first doll you've met."
I was dumbfounded. All I could do was nod.
Phoebe glanced at Yimshe and said, "I'm going to have so much fun here."
"Someone explain to me what I just saw," I said, finally taking the scattered remains of my thoughts and putting them into a complete sentence.
"Dolls are aquatic," Phoebe said, holding up a hand and spreading her fingers by way of demonstration. She had five fingers and a thumb, but they were all completely webbed. Rather than human-like nails, she had short, nubby claws at the ends of her fingers — all of which looked like they'd been deliberately blunted. She then tilted her neck and pressed a finger in at the base, which caused her flesh to split in several long slits that could only be gills.
"Our species is capable of retaining fluid — liquid or gas — to change our shape and weight. Originally, we used it to control buoyancy, but the ability has ... other uses. It's not comfortable to keep my height while seated and I look funny sitting on a gigantic ass, so I put it all in my boobs instead."
"That's ... nuts," I said, blinking in complete amazement.
Phoebe, obviously amused, grinned as she said, "Yim's told me a bit about you and after watching you work yeah, you're a bit of a horror show ... but I really, really like your body plan, so let's do our best to get along, okay?"
"My ... body plan?" I asked, looking her up and down.
"Mmhm. There's practically nothing sharp on you. I love it. A lot of the other livestock species have pointy bits that can do me serious damage, but as far as I can tell you'll be completely safe to play with even when we get rough. I can't wait to try."
I gazed fixedly at her with one eyebrow glued to my hairline, trying to think of a response. At last, I managed, "I was told that allies I would pick up during this first event would have some area of expertise. What's yours?"
"Duh, water sports," she said, giving me what looked — to me at least — like a downright fiendish grin. Her teeth really could have been plucked out of a shark's mouth.
"I'm also killer when it comes to eating contests, and a bomb in the sack," she added. "I'm actually a series star, which means you got super lucky when you picked me up. We're going to have so much fun together."
Palashai rolled her eyes as Yimshe glanced left, looking faintly embarrassed, and that made me grin. I knew it was at my expense, but it was still funny. I wasn't too invested in what those two thought of me sexually. As long as they got me ready to compete, everything ... or anything else, was just an extra. They were both exotic eye candy, and that was enough.
This new girl though? She was aggressively assertive. I hadn't expected that given she hadn't said a single word in the jungle.
Something she said caught my attention, and I looked at Yimshe as I asked, "What's a series star?"
"SDM Incorporated keeps a rotating stable of regular allies for these competitions. They're called stars, and they have their own built-in fanbases. Phoebe here has been through ... four?"
The doll nodded, and Yim went on. "Four seasons."
"And I've never been traded," Phoebe added with that grin that was somehow both carnivorous and carnal at once.
It was the teeth and those D.S.L. It was a combination that shouldn't work, but did.
"Traded?" I asked.
Phoebe's grin vanished when I asked, but Yim said, "Trades are part of the game. Allies have a variety of special talents or particular skills, but it's very easy to wind up with a lopsided team because which allies you get in the field is mostly a matter of luck. Allies can be traded for anything. Usually, it's a swap of some kind, but score can also be transferred."
"So, I could conceivably trade her to someone to up my score on the leaderboard?" I asked.
"Conceivably," Yim said with a wary glance at Phoebe, who definitely wasn't smiling now. "I don't think you should trade her. You're considered a strong swimmer, but dolls are the best amphibians there are and her scores in the water are way higher than yours. While eating contests aren't common, they do happen, and it's almost a given she'd win something like that too. They can pack away food like literally no other species."
"I'll bear it in mind. So what's next?" I asked.
Yim and Pala exchanged glances, then Palashai asked, "Are you hungry?"
"And thirsty, and still a bit tired, yes," I admitted. "How long was I asleep?"
"A full day. You spent half that time in a tank, after which they brought you here. There are six days left until the next event. The time between events is for socializing, which can be worth score. The leaderboards shift around quite a lot during downtime — though the quintiles are locked — and after four events the middle performers start getting auctioned off," Palashai said.
I nodded, then tipped my head toward the fridge as I asked, "Is that stocked?"
Yimshe said, "Yes, but before you eat, there's something else we should get done."
"What's that?" I asked.
"You need to select a second ally," she said.
"Select?"
"You took out eight competitors who'd secured allies for themselves, but just because you killed their rescuers doesn't mean you automatically get them all for yourself. You can choose one, and the others get recycled into future events."
Phoebe, clearly sensing I and my trainers were done with her for the moment, sagged back to a seat on the couch. My train of thought jumped its track as — eyes widening — I watched her settle ... and then keep settling, getting shorter as her chest ballooned out until it once again filled her lap.
By the time I blinked and shook my head to clear it, she was grinning again.
"Yeah ... dolls are pretty fun to watch," Palashai noted wryly, grinning at me.
"And play with!" Phoebe said, one hand shooting up as though to answer a question in class. "I need you to fuck me, soon, or I'll get depressed. I have been aching to play with you ever since I first saw you out in the jungle."
"Why?" I asked, unable to help the question. "Because I don't have any pointy bits?"
She nodded enthusiastically as she said, "Doesn't even matter how big your cock is, I fit all sizes. All, sizes."
"I uh ... well, I'm sure you've noticed I'm on the short side," I said, frowning as I glanced at Palashai. I wouldn't exactly thrill the crowds if fucking Phoebe was like tossing a hot dog down a hallway, and her teeth meant there was no way I'd be getting head from her. Outside boob jobs and butt stuff, I wasn't sure there were many other ways to go about it, and I legitimately didn't even know if Phoebe had an asshole, or if anal was an option even if she did. She was an alien, after all.
Palashai's grin never wavered though as she said, "You're cock's actually pretty big for your body plan. Despite being several feet shorter than most of your competitors, you're solidly in the middle of the pack when it comes to that. Had you managed it, neither Yim nor I would have been disappointed. There are only a few species you won't thrill, and I'll let you know if it ever comes up."
"Managed it? You mean ... he hasn't fucked either of you yet?" Phoebe asked, already large eyes going wide, at which point they took up fully half her face. It was a comic look, but I wasn't laughing, and Palashai wasn't about to cut me slack.
She said, "Nope. Neither of us. We aren't losing sleep over it either. Trying to train him was a disaster."
"Speak for yourself," Yim said, baring her teeth in a canine expression of frustration. "It's been giving me fits."
"Yeah, but not because you're missing out," Palashai said with an airy wave.
Yim glanced at her mother and didn't answer, but I saw the move for what it was. Palashai was trying to get under my skin. Get me angry enough to prove myself. Reverse psychology is a cheap trick, though, and while I did get annoyed, I wasn't about to show it.
"So, what, is he impotent?" Phoebe asked.
"Nooo," Yim drawled. "But let's deal with that some other time. We can't sleep on ally selection."
"You handle it," I said, and both my trainers blinked in surprise.
Phoebe laughed and said, "Oooh, you are special, aren't you?"
"What the hell's off about having them choose?!" I asked. "I don't know what this contest requires, or how best to balance this group. They do, so let them fucking pick!"
Phoebe leaned back, balancing an elbow on one oversized boob as she covered her mouth with her webbed hand, gazing steadily at me for a long moment before glancing toward Yimshe as she said in a stage whisper, "I see now what you're dealing with. My sympathies."
"Listen here, you little shit, you're pissing me off now. Condescend to me one more time and I'll trade you to the spikiest competitor I can find for half a smile, and next season you can brag about that to whoever puts a key in your lock. Be helpful, or be quiet."
That shut her up, and I returned my attention to Yimshe, whose look of surprise had faded a bit, then returned and had kittens when I took my shot at Phoebe. Palashai just put her head in her hands, hiding her face entirely. It wasn't a good sign, but fuck it. I'd be good and god damned before I let a leaf-green titty monster make a fool of me.
I said, "Now, explain to me, without sarcasm, why you can't do this simple thing I've asked you to do."
I learned something about packwren in that moment. They blush with their ears. The insides of Yim's turned hot pink, and she opened her mouth a long second before any words came out. Then she said, "I-if ... whatever ally we pick for you learns that you didn't choose her, or even take part in her selection, she'll be less likely to do well on your behalf. Allies don't suffer if their competitors fail, die, or get disqualified. They just go back in the pool. One of the most important parts of the game for competitors is ... um, keeping allies happy."
Yimshe glanced pointedly at Phoebe as she said that last, and I rolled my eyes and asked, "Why didn't you say that during the week we had in the lead up to this stupid fucking game?!"
Yimshe cringed at that, but Palashai lifted her head and barked, "Because it never occurred to us that you'd be deliberately hostile to people who are on your team! Fuck's sake, Taz! What part of the definition of 'ally' don't you get? Phoebe isn't here just for you to use. SDM is a social game. Alliances are mutually beneficial! If you can't make friends you're going to fail spectacularly no matter how good you are at murder!"
I sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, then turned my full attention to Phoebe as I said, "Let's get one thing straight: I'm not here for your entertainment. I'm not ungrateful for what help I receive, but I don't respond well to mockery ... or threats."
"He really, really doesn't," Yimshe hastily added, and something in the way she said it made it clear, at least to me, that she was talking about Mauren.
Phoebe, however, had not blown up the way I expected her to. Instead of hopping off the couch and making for the door, she had her hand over her mouth again and was gazing speculatively at me in a way I wasn't sure I liked.
At length, she said, "I cannot imagine what kind of training program you were put through to wind up with such a disagreeable personality. You came from Division Four, right? What did they do to you?"
"Nothing," I said with a scowl. "I'm just a shit person by default."
"Flaws of this sort usually don't show up until livestock has been around for years. How old are you?"
My mouth was open before I caught myself and closed it again. Whatever answer she expected, 'thirty-eight' probably wasn't it.
When I failed to answer, Yimshe said, "He's somewhere between four and six months old. Division Four hasn't released his exact decant date."
Phoebe was watching me carefully, but I shrugged and glanced away, then said, "Any other questions?"
"Several, but they'll keep," she said. "You should take part in your ally selection."
Raising an eyebrow, I said, "You're not leaving?"
"I can't just leave, even if I wanted to, which I don't. You've altered my expectations, Taz, but my performance isn't just a measure of how much I may or may not like you. Since I stay with the show, I have a reputation to maintain. I'm not some useless vacay."
Vacation allies. I knew about them. They were generally the worst, with below-average event skills. They literally paid the organizers to be in the show and were generally only in it for the sex with competitors. Most of them were succubi, but it wasn't healthy to call them out specifically for that. It also wasn't healthy to actively avoid them, and they were almost impossible to trade. Winding up with one was generally considered a setback, though there were still ways to gain score off them, particularly if the succ was a good proxy for the audience. Palashai had told me what I knew, and made it clear that in my case having one would definitely be a mixed experience. On the one hand, they'd love the amount of essence I provide, but on the other, they'd be a tremendous social burden given my short fuse.
All this flickered through my mind as I nodded and glanced from Phoebe to Yim. The doll hadn't any trace of sarcasm or mockery in her voice anymore, and I found it refreshing that she hadn't chosen to fire back at me or somehow continue to grate on my nerves.
"All right, how do we do this evaluation? You got a tablet with the relevant data I can look over?" I asked.
Yim blinked twice — a packwren negative — as Pala hid a smirk behind her hand.
Yim said, "No, of course not. Now that you're awake, I'll send notice and they'll all be assembled in a room. You'll interview them and make your selection that way."
"Together?" I asked.
Yim nodded.
"All at the same time?" I asked, not quite believing it when she nodded again.
"Are they allowed to lie to me?" I asked.
"Good question, and yes," Pala answered. "There are never any rules against lying. It's part of the game."
"I like this game less and less," I muttered, then made eye contact with Palashai as I asked, "Are there any protections for me regarding allies beyond their good will?"
"Phoebe mentioned one. Star allies don't like it when they're traded. It hurts their reputation, so they tend to work hard for their own sakes. In a similar way, many livestock are put in the games by their breeders and trainers to show off their value for future sale. These actually make up the bulk of the allies in any given season. Those that do well command a higher price and are generally treated better than they otherwise would be if subject to standard sales or auctions. They'll also want to work hard for their own sakes."
"Is there any way I can guarantee accurate information? Am I given anything in advance before the interview?" I asked.
Palashai and Yimshe both shook their heads, and Yim said, "And don't blame us. We don't know who they are either. Other than the leaderboard, we don't have access to what's broadcast. No one on the inside does. The only people inside the game who knew anything about the allies are the people you killed."
"And the only thing they know about me is that I killed the people who rescued them?" I asked, raising a pointed eyebrow.
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Phoebe cut in. "I'd have been pissed if that borealan got me. Those things are way too rough. Allies have preferences for who they want to work with just like anybody. Now, granted, that cuts both ways."
"Ugh. Fuck, whatever. Just send notice and we'll get this over with," I muttered, moving past the three as I added, "In the meantime, what the hell do we have to eat in here? I'm starving."
Interview 1
"Hi! My name is Valenteen. As you are no doubt aware, I'm embedded here on the Sex, Death, and Money campus to help cover the event. I'd like to interview you, do you mind?"
"No, I don't."
"Thank you. First off, tell us your name and a little about yourself."
"Okay, um, my name is Miriam. I'm twenty-two and won a slot this SDM season because I'm skilled in music theory and composition. I also dance and sing."
"Oh! So you aren't a vacationer?"
"Hell no! I'm here to make a name for myself!"
"And when you saw Silent Knight, what was your first impression of him?"
The interviewer was a beautiful succubus with skin so dark red it was almost black, wearing a skintight one-piece that was a dark blue work of art. Her white hair was wound into a tight bun atop her head, held in place by a pair of crossed golden pins, and her wings were chased with gold makeup that also accented her eyes and lips. She wore techspecs, though hers had clear lenses and golden, sharp rims.
The woman across from her in the tell-all room was another succubus with bright red skin and black hair. Her one-piece was also blue, but a brighter shade, and her otherwise beautiful face was twisted with annoyance as she grudgingly admitted, "He looked damn good, that was my first impression. Short, but I can get into that. Sometimes the short ones are more fun. It was like someone took a biped design and cut away all the extra stuff, you know? Basic ... but what I saw was super solid."
"And how much did you know about him?"
"Other than that he killed Bayman? Nothing. I never saw him during the first event."
"Were you excited to be one of Bayman's allies?"
The interviewee's head wobbled ambivalently from side to side as she said, "I ... I mean, packwren are okay, I guess? Of the four of them I'd have gone with Maximus if I got to pick, but they had a deal worked out in advance. Bayman was going to get whoever was in the cage. It just happened to be me."
The interviewer smiled faintly, then composed herself as she got to the question she knew everyone really wanted answered.
"So what was your reaction when he did what he did?"
"Are you kidding?! How would you feel?! He walked in, looked us over, then pointed at Astra, said, 'You,' and walked right the fuck back out. He didn't talk to any of us!"
Whatever Valenteen might have thought, she kept it to herself as she leaned forward and said, "So what are you going to do now?"
"There's always at least one music event every season. I'm going to put myself in the campus games. Every serious competitor needs someone good with music, so I'm pretty sure I'll get picked up quick."
"You won't have much influence over which competitor you wind up with," Valenteen commented.
"I'll have more than I would if I waited for the next open event and that won't be for a month! At least this way my prospectives will talk to me. I still can't believe that fucker blew me off! I've never been treated that way by livestock before! I've got real skills and he treated me like some vacay bimbo!"
Valenteen's expression remained placid as she said, "He treated you exactly the same way he treated Astra."
"No, he fucking did not. He picked her. Why? Do you know?"
"It would be a contractual violation to say if I knew, which I do not. Is there anything else you'd like to tell our viewers?"
"Yeah. You'll see me in the music event and whoever that asshole's team puts up — and that's if he even makes it that far — is getting crushed. Count on it. We'll see how he likes being humiliated!"