“No, thanks.” I turned away.
“I’ll give you a discount, then,” the vendor continued. “Obviously, you’re too weak to watch it in person, so maybe you’d prefer to watch from outside. I’ll give you a discount on that ticket as well, so you can.”
“I said no, thanks,” I replied, a little more firmly.
Then, the creature made the stupidest move he may have done in his whole life. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me close. I was so stunned by the move, all I managed to do was laugh. I’d seen pushy vendors before, but nothing like that.
“Your kind should feel privileged to be in the city at all,” the vendor said, his wide mouth curled downward in a frown. “You humans are weak and pathetic. You’re stupid and slow.”
“Really?” I asked him.
“Now,” he said, motioning to my ping-pouch full of the gold rings, “hand over the money.”
I debated shouting “guards” and getting this vendor tossed into the arena. But if they were cherry-picking their fighters based on appearance, I knew that they’d prefer to take me rather than the sales guy.
“And what if I don’t?” I asked, leaning closer to the brute.
One part of me wanted to rip his arm off and shove it up whatever he used for an ass. The other part of me heard Yaltu’s words about remaining undetected. I’d seen what the guards did with people who caused trouble; they made those people fight to the death.
Any delay could mean the death of whoever had survived from the Revenge. They were my people, and their survival meant more to me than my pride.
The vendor snarled. “Maybe I will scream like a child and say that you want to fight. Maybe then, the guards will drag you away, and I will buy my own ticket to watch you die in the arena. Hmm? Do you want to buy the ticket now?”
Maybe entering the arena wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I might find whoever Yaltu had heard about, the superpowered human who might have paid a visit to the Lakunae.
“Fat hairy is lucky Jacob is in hurry!” Skrew sneered. “Jacob reach down fat-hairy throat, grab fat-hairy’s little balls, and turn whole body inside out! Then, friends make fun and call hairy-fat!”
You still need a guide, I reminded myself. But I was having trouble convincing myself that it was true.
The vendor gasped, sneered at both of us, and inhaled deeply. I saw what was coming next and decided that I’d rather blow my own cover than let the nasty vendor do it. So, I flexed my arm, ripping it from the gorilla’s grasp. At the same time, I grabbed the creature’s bottom lip and attempted to pull it over his head, effectively muffling his scream.
It turned out that his bottom lip was a lot stretchier than I thought it would be, and I found it easy to pull it all the way up to his eyes. He flailed and tried to punch me with his hand, which was as big as my head.
I caught his fist mid-strike, reversed my grip, ducked under his arm, and took his elbow with my other hand. Then I used his own meaty hand to punch him in the face twice.
Skrew, meanwhile, was laughing hard enough to draw the guards all by himself. I silenced him by using the vendor’s arm to take a swing at the vrak, causing him to duck, stumble, and land in the little stream of urine. Then I turned my attention back to the vendor and used his own fist to whack him in the face two more times. When I paused to ask him if he was done, I noticed he was unconscious and didn’t bother.
A large crowd of aliens had gathered around the booth. They were already primed to see the arena fights, so, unfortunately, they were keenly interested in watching a human embarrass a much bigger opponent.
It was time to leave.
“Jacob,” Skrew hissed, “must go! Must flee. Guards will come. Too many eyes. Not fight on street, yes? Must flee!”
He was right. I hopped out of the vendor’s booth across his counter and met an immobile wall of aliens all gawking between me and the gorilla. I could easily leap over them, but that would only draw more attention, so I decided a distraction would be best.
“Free arena tickets!” I yelled before turning and scooping up a big handful of colorful slips of paper. I threw them into the air in great handfuls, and the aliens dove, jumped, and flew for them.
It was bedlam, and it was just what I needed to slip away as three guards in small hovercrafts arrived to survey the situation. A human carrying a vrak through a crowd of flying papers, aliens, and dust was almost invisible.
I knew I’d narrowly avoided the arena. The thought of it made me recall the old Roman coliseums where people would be pitted against one another and against beasts. Most gladiators were slaves, but not all. The idea that so many people would be entertained by watching one being fight another being to the death sickened me.
Once we’d moved far enough away, I put Skrew down and looked around to get my bearings.
“Good to smash fat-hairy,” Skrew mused. “Also bad to smash fat-hairy. Peoples liked fight. They remember and report Jacob. He is different.”
“Quiet down,” I said.
“Normally, humans squishy, soft. Not fight. Just die. Maybe throw rock. Maybe throw self. Always die. Jacob not die. Jacob embarrass fat-hairy. Was fun! But fun bad. Jacob must keep to moving.” His expression was grim, almost mournful.
Skrew and I slowly made our way through the meandering, crawling, slithering, stomping, and walking aliens.
Few paid me any attention at all, except to sneer or point. I pretended I didn’t notice. No use drawing attention with another fight again, even if it would satisfy me to wipe the smug looks off their faces. I looked up every few seconds to check my surroundings and
