“So, this is it?” I asked, looking over a chaotic scene filled with merchant stalls.
After Dick’s disappearance yesterday, we spent the rest of the day searching for him. Thankfully, Light had not been with Dick when he transformed, having opted to stay back on the ship and play hologames with Tria.
The last complication we needed right now was a traumatized Ancient toddler.
Rodan boasted a twin-sun situation that kept it from ever completely getting dark. Most of the day was shrouded in the bright sunlight from its primary star. When that sun set, another dwarf star crested the horizon, shrouding the “nighttime” hours in a dim red haze.
The Red Night, as the locals called it, was just rising when I finally got a lead from a tattoo shop owner. Apparently, his appreciation of my ink loosened his lips when many others had refused to talk to me.
He told me the Lycan came through, ripping everything to shreds before suddenly passing out cold. A few of the locals called in a group affiliated with one of the factions called The Collectors to take care of it before it woke. From the description the tatted-up man gave me, it sounded like they were poachers.
The Collectors operated out of the city’s largest bazaar, which was named simply the Free Market. As the name suggested, exchange of goods and services was largely unrestricted in the district.
From the tattoo artist’s account, it sounded like the sedative hadn’t been able to knock Dick out of his Lycan form. I was worried that meant whatever was taking him over was getting stronger. Cash confirmed that when I spoke to him about my concerns.
“He was stronger this time,” Cash said. “I could barely hold him. Last time, he was just too agile to pin down. This time, I could barely hold him down based on raw power alone.”
We spoke little as we entered Free Market proper. The din of hundreds of people hawking their wares drowned out any possibility of casual conversation. The only ones who would be heard over the racket were those speaking with a purpose.
The market stalls were constructed using a hodgepodge of various new and old technologies, with a few magical versions sparsely scattered in between. One man selling rock sculptures had used some magical ability to create a rocky outcropping jutting out of the dry desert floor under which he sold his art. Some were simply large, metal box crates the proprietors opened and closed as needed.
Most commonly, I saw stalls built on large hover trolleys; these were moveable flatbed units used commonly in shipping centers to move large loads of goods. Numerous stall owners had built them out to be mobile stalls. I imagined they came and went each day, rather than leaving their business stationary at Free Market.
Only Cash and I had come into the market looking for Dick. Ryuuk was perched somewhere nearby with his sniper rifle, providing overwatch in case we got into trouble. Vomero had opted not to come, instead preferring to dig up information about Lycanthropy. Finding Dick was only half the battle. Once we had him, we needed to know how to deal with these uncontrolled transformations.
Cash stopped to buy some exotic looking pastry from a vendor and ask where one might procure unusual animals.
“The Market keeps all animal traders in a separate section for security and sanitation purposes,” the gangly, gecko looking man said.
The vendor pointed us in the right direction, and we moved deeper into Free Market. As we drew closer, there was a noticeable shift in atmosphere. The noise of vendors shouting daily deals was replaced by animals baying and barking. The smell of fresh cooked food gave way to the less pleasant aroma of animal feces and musk.
In this section of Free Market, there were fewer small vendors working from hover trolleys and storage crates. Instead, various pens and enclosures sectioned off larger portions of the flat, dusty terrain. I had been to cattle shows in the Pact Worlds that had a similar vibe.
To my relief, none of the vendors I saw appeared to be derelict in their care of the animals. Most looked well-fed and healthy. We had learned The Collectors basically ran this area of Free Market. Perhaps they had certain standards to keep.
Our quick research of the district also yielded another interesting fact. One of the few restrictions I’d heard of in New Iberia pertained to Free Market. Slave trade wasn’t allowed. Although, this “rule” was primarily enforced socially and culturally as opposed to legally. Most people in New Iberia, and Rodan in general, despised slave trade.
It made sense for a society founded on the idea of freedom. The founders of this planet were refugees from various others in the quadrant. They established order and fought for the planet’s complete autonomy both politically and economically. Other than preserving the absolute liberty of the inhabitants, the shell government imposed few other laws or rulings. A ban on slave trade served as one of the few.
This meant, on Rodan, you could partake in just about any manner of activity imaginable, so long as you did so willingly.
“I think this is it,” Cash said, bringing my musings to a halt.
I listened for a moment to the ear-splitting howl emerging from one of the building-size covered shelters in front of us.
“Presumptuous,” I joked with Cash. “That could be any demon-wolfman hybrid baying loud enough to wake the dead.”
He threw me a sarcastic grin as we entered the open-air structure.
“When you put it that way, he doesn’t seem so different, after all.”
The building layout reminded me of an old-fashioned rodeo crossed with a cage match arena. Viewing stands surrounded a large open area in the center with high walls and a cage top. Behind the seating, numerous stalls, corrals, and cages of varying sizes housed dozens of species of animals.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“It’s a fighting pit,” I observed, though it was currently not in use.
“They probably wait till night fall to open it up,” Cash said.
“Trade in the day, then enter what you bought in the fights at night?” I wondered.
“I’ve seen similar set-ups before,” Cash confirmed with a nod. “Although, this one looks a lot nicer and the animals a lot healthier than the ones I’ve seen before.”
Shouting near the heavy-duty cages in the back drew our attention, and we made our way in that direction.
“Get a handle on it, you stupid fucks!” a large, bald man shouted to three other workers.
The guy in charge looked like he was part Dacite, a volcanic race characterized by their tough, white patches of rocky skin. The men working for him appeared human.
A large crowd of people were gathered in the area. They were watching the spectacle as the three workers scrambled to put a choke stick around one of the animals in a reinforced cage. As we drew closer, I could see it was our Lycan.
“This one will net me a huge profit in the fights tonight,” he said.
“If you can get it tamed, Gundar,” another, dark complected man in the group stated.
“He’ll tame. We might have to put the shock stick to it a few times, but it’ll give. They all do.”
“I don’t know, this one seems different.”
“That’s because it is different,” Cash said, stepping up.
The Dacite, whose name was apparently Gundar, turned toward us, a suspicious look on his face.
“And unfortunately,” Cash continued, “I can’t let you torture it with shock sticks.”
He turned to me questioningly and raised an eyebrow.
“We can’t, right?” he asked jokingly. I simply shook my head with an exasperated sigh.
“Oh, I forgot,” Cash continued, nodding in my direction. “Apparently, she’s the only one allowed to torture him.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Gundar interrupted. “I suggest you make yourself disappear before I do it for you.”
“That’s our...creature,” I said, giving the snarling Lycan a glance.
With our arrival, the men had stopped trying to collar it, and it had gone back to thrashing in the cage, attempting to break free.
“You don’t strike me as common thieves,” I said. “That’s our creature and we’ve come to collect it.”
“We found this beastie in the streets,” Gundar said, clearly pissed off at being questioned. “If you wanted him, you should have kept better charge of him.”
“I think she’s lying, boss,” one of the three cronies with the choke sticks called. “They must’ve heard about this beast and want to con you out of it.”
Gundar turned from listening to the man back to us.
“Is that what you’re doing?” he asked. “Trying to con me?”
He stepped closer, equal in height to Cash, and stared us both down. I had to crane my neck, but I knew better than to let him cow me. Cash simply took a step forward, putting himself within an arm's reach of the man. He wasn’t one to be intimidated.
“You seem new here,” Gundar said, finally. “So, I’ll give you a piece of advice. For free.”
He took a slight step back, as if instinctively knowing that standing within striking distance of Cash was an unwise move.
“I’m a Collector,” Gundar said. “Around here, that means nobody comes in and tells me what I can and can’t do with my animal.”
“Well, Gundar, that’s the problem,” I said, taking a purposefully casual stance to put him off guard.
“That,” I continued, poking a finger toward the cage, “isn’t an animal. It’s a person. He’s a changeling going through a weird phase.”
I paused for a moment to let my words sink in.
“Now, last I checked...you people don’t deal in...well, people.”
“Nice try,” the darker man said stepping forward. “But if that thing is a changeling, tell him to change back. That’s the weakest pitch for a scam I’ve ever heard.”
I rubbed my temples, starting to understand how this would all have to go down.
“Who are you, again?” I asked in frustration.
I knew Dick couldn’t prove he was a changeling right now. So, unless the Lycan just decided to give up and let Dick back out, we’d probably have to settle this a different way.
“I’m Keldav,” he said, “but despite coming in here and throwing around wild claims and making demands, you’ve yet to give us your own names.”
If Gundar was the brawn, this guy was the brains of the group. He had a point, too. I sighed and introduced us.
“I’m Skye, this is Cash, and that,” I said, pointing toward the cage, “is Dick. Like I said, he’s going through some things.”
“Great, I’m glad we got that out of the way,” Gundar said. “Now get the hell out of here.”
Keldav put a restraining hand on Gundar’s shoulder to calm him.
“You really expected to just walk in here, make your unfounded accusations, and we’d just, what? Open the gate and let you have probably the rarest beast we’ve had come through here this year?” Keldav queried.
The plan had simply been to locate the Lycan before someone sold him off, chopped him up as a delicacy, or tried to mount him on a wall. We had been operating in panic mode, first trying to keep Dick from killing anyone, and then trying to keep someone else from killing him once we learned he’d been taken by a bunch of glorified poachers.
“Honestly, we’re just looking to get back our friend,” I said, candidly.
“I’ve never heard of a changeling who couldn’t control their own transformation,” Keldav said. “Sorry, but we’re not so naïve here.”
Keldav turned back to where the Lycan was pounding away at the cage.
“But let’s say, we did believe you, which we don’t. How did you expect to get it out of here? Our men can barely contain him. I’m not even sure how long that cage can contain him.”
“That’s none of your concern,” I said, genuinely not knowing what we’d do if the extra tranquilizers Cash brought didn’t work.
“I’ll give you something to be concerned about,” Gundar grumbled.
“It kind of is our concern,” Keldav disagreed. “Our men were the ones who had to collect this creature from the streets after it terrorized an entire neighborhood. You want us to just let it go with you and trust that you’re not only telling the truth but also capable of keeping it safely contained?”
I found it extremely annoying that Keldav’s points made so much sense and that my own claims seemed foolish by comparison. Perhaps I could turn my signature Sagittarian charm up to 10 and convince him to let the Lycan go, but what would we do with it? We had no way of containing it safely on the ship until it decided to let Dick back out, that’s if the sedative even worked.
On the other hand, I didn’t trust these people not to try and throw the Lycan in the fighting pits. Animal cage matches weren’t like the ones Dick and I patronized back in Viridi. This type of fight was almost always to the death. Animals didn’t know how to subdue without killing, and once they started fighting for their lives, they didn’t stop. It was quite a barbaric but commonly accepted form of entertainment among certain circles.
While I didn’t think many animals they had here would be able to take down the Lycan, a sentiment I’m sure The Collectors shared, I couldn’t take the chance. Nor did I think Dick would be happy to wake up and find out he’d fought and killed animals for sport.
As I stood there pondering my lack of options, however, the choice was taken from me. The loud crash of explosives going off racked the arena as smoke and stun grenades detonated all around us.