“We were told you’d open the gate for us,” I explained, pulling Skrew behind me.
The guard’s little eyes narrowed so much, I doubted like he could see me anymore. “Who said?” he asked, and then he lowered his voice. “Are you the one Yaltu sent?”
“Yes,” I answered.
The guard stared at me for a moment, probably trying to gauge whether or not I was a spy, someone sent to test him, or the real thing. When I didn’t look away, he nodded.
“Hurry. Get in.”
With that, he turned toward the gate, inserted a key, and gave it a quick twist. The 30-foot-tall gate opened on silent hinges, and Skew and I slipped inside.
The city was a bustling nest of bodies, buildings, music, arguing, and loud-mouthed drunkenness. Towering structures obscured the horizon, and even though I was among the tallest people there, I still found it difficult to see anything more than 10 or 20 yards away. The smell of cooking food and the stink of unwashed flesh filled my nostrils.
Dust shifted underfoot as I moved through the street and tried to get my bearings. Skrew trailed along behind me and kept his head down.
Since the city was surrounded by walls and couldn’t necessarily grow outward, it appeared that most of the long-time residents decided to go up. This resulted in buildings that tipped, tilted, and threatened to fall over at any moment, crushing anyone who happened to be unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Creative workers had welded pipes, girts, and bracings between buildings in order to stabilize them. At first glance, I didn’t see any that appeared to have collapsed, but their haphazard construction and the faded paint of their mismatched pieces made damage repair difficult to spot.
If a fight broke out here, improvisation would be a key factor. For instance, the tall flagpoles. Each one had to be 20 yards long. By ripping one of them out of the ground, I was certain I could bowl at least 20 of my enemies out of the way.
Then, there were the wares the vendors were selling. Some were miniature figurines made of plaster, ceramics, or even metal. A good hard throw could send one through an enemy’s chest, which would definitely stagger him, if not outright kill him.
Still, there was nothing like having my blade in my hand, especially if I ran into armed enemies.
But a fight avoided was a fight won, and there was more to my mission than simply feeling safe. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to be on a short fuse. In some places, especially around the food and drink booths, the bodies were packed tight. Those who had already made their purchases had a tough time clearing out for the next person.
“I was here first!” someone growled in a low, gurgling voice.
“Says you,” a higher pitched voice snarled. “Move now, or I’ll cut your face off and wear it as a hat.”
“Guards!” a third alien shouted.
Within moments, two guards in small hovercraft entered the area. Their mere presence caused those around to suddenly have better things to do with their time and money. The vrak pilots eyed the two combatants.
“What is happen?” one asked.
“This pudu tried to cut into line,” said a gray-skinned, blob-like monster of an alien.
“I did not,” snarled the smaller of the two, which resembled an armadillo. “He threatened to cut my face off and wear it as a hat!”
“I did not.”
“Show knife,” a guard interrupted.
“I, well,” stammered the big alien. “I forgot I had it on me. I was going to bring it to a guard as soon as I—”
His monologue was cut short when the guard fired a harpoon net at him. The thin webbing wrapped around the rotund alien several times before dozens of small hooks snagged its tough-looking skin. The hovercraft strained under the alien’s weight but managed to lift him from the ground. A few moments later, both vehicles were only a speck in the distance.
“What’s going to happen to that one?” I whispered to Skrew.
“He will fight,” he replied. “Jacob must follow Skrew. Bada-dabu that way.”
“So, anyone who is accused of a crime is taken into the arena?” I asked incredulously.
“We keep head down, find Bada-dabu. Quickly.”
We headed off in the direction Skrew indicated. I made it a point to take his advice and not make eye contact with any of the aliens around me.
I’d been trained to spot subtle shifts in crowds, so when I saw people reverse directions suddenly, I knew something had changed. Above the bobbing alien heads, a helmet came into view. The crowds pressed together on both sides to make room for the helmeted alien.
“Enforcer,” I whispered to Skrew.
I grabbed the vrak by an arm, turned 30 degrees to our right, and began making our way through the crowd. Avoiding a fight would be best for the innocent people who’d be caught in the crossfire. Not only that, but my goal was to find lost crew members.
Skrew wisely kept his mouth shut for once. As I pushed him along, the crowds thinned, and the stench rose. The sanitation in this part of the town was far less professional, and we had to be careful where we stepped. The vendor stalls weren’t as well-appointed or maintained as those closer to the center of town either.
“You look like a human who enjoys watching other humans get smashed!” someone to my left said as something was pressed into my hand.
I instinctively dropped the object, took a small step back, and lifted my hands, ready to grapple whoever had just touched me.
The vendor, a hairy beast resembling a gorilla stretched horizontally like taffy, stared at the item I’d dropped on the ground. The colorful piece of paper floated in a narrow stream of urine.
“You have to pay for that,” the vendor growled, glaring at
