The octagon box set, p.31
The Octagon Box Set, page 31
part #1 of The Octagon Series
Vaulted marble colonnades rose in eight octagonal tiers, dwarfing Kalus as he stood in the center looking for answers from the heavens.
Dark clouds rolled overhead offering only brief shards of the dawn sunlight. Kalus felt overwhelmed as he stared at the layers of columns, plinths, corridors of hidden traps, dead ends and killing floors that rose in tiered levels like a wedding cake, each smaller and recessed over the previous until it reached the eighth tier. The apex was crowned with the Victorium chamber holding the prize of the tournament; the orb. Whichever ludus scaled the Dominion and reached the orb first won.
We were so close.
The cleaning crew had finished scrubbing the blood off the white marble, but the Dominion still stank of death. Kalus tried to contain his anger. It wouldn’t be virtuous to take immediate action on his cold rage. He wanted to find his enemies who had orchestrated this and immediately dish out retribution, but a disciplined response was needed, not careless reaction. He had to be strong and seek his justice when the time was right. It would not get the better of him.
Kalus took a deep breath. The seed had been planted. He would grow and nurture it hidden from view of everyone.
Someone was going to die for this.
3
What Lies Beneath
Karuna moved swiftly down the steps and along the wide open corridor of glass, passing for what seemed like an eternity the endless stretch of cavernous training halls, not bothering to turn her head and look inside as she went by. She had spent countless hours in each one already during her time here, honing her skills and her physique with the punishing routines and drills.
She always conditioned her mind in private.
Her body felt drained from a two-hour weapons session. She was supposed to be in recovery phase for the next few days after the tournament, but her joints and muscles thanked her for the workout.
Recent recruits and novices stared at her as she went past. Heads turning. Comments exchanged. Others in the corridor stood aside, giving a respectful nod. She smiled inwardly. They had all seen the live feed from the night before and the place was abuzz with what the woman they called the Dragonfly had done. Her feats of skill and courage were starting to become folklore.
No novice in the history of the Ludus Infernum had graduated to the level of Elite so quickly, especially on their first Dominion. It normally took years of training and even then you weren't guaranteed to partake in the Dominion except by decree from the Patron. Yet within twelve months of her arriving at the ludus she had received her decree. The Elites that fell by her hand in her first Dominion earned her the right to ascend to Elite status. The armorskin that she would wear from now on would bear the devil's trident, the mark of her Elite standing within the Ludus and the rosettes she had earned.
The shower stalls were empty when she stripped off her clothing, pausing to study herself in the full-length mirror. She had always been fit before, but her physique now had developed into that of a fighter. Her shoulders and arms were lean and supple, but toned with muscle that rippled under her olive skin as she rotated and moved her body in the mirror, admiring herself. It was not out of vanity but from feeling content with the hard work she had endured. There were no shortcuts to becoming something other than what you are. It took discipline and commitment.
Whilst others slept, she trained. Whilst others ate, she trained. Whilst others took a day off, she trained and got a day further ahead.
Her breasts were still round and firm, but she had melted away any excess body-fat. Her stomach was flat, the skin sheathed over a feint cobble of abdominal muscle leading to her smooth bare mound. She'd removed all her hair down there, not for vanity or appearance, but because she wanted to shed herself totally from her past, physically and emotionally. To let go of what she was, to shed her previous skin.
They have no idea what lies beneath.
She was pleased at what she saw as she lingered with a critical eye for one last time before stepping into the shower.
The hot water scolded her skin as all the pain and soreness slowly washed away. But the water felt like ice compared to the inferno that burned inside. She allowed herself the luxury of staying slightly longer in the shower, but quickly dried and changed into fresh clothes before making her way to the Elites block.
Arriving at her new accommodation, now segregated with the other Elites, she paused at the door and took a deep breath bracing herself for what was to come.
She activated the biometric lock. The door slide open with a hiss and she stepped inside.
4
Drowning
“She’s a variant!” Kobe raised his voice, trying to keep his anger in check. “She’s been enhanced. Why is it so difficult to accept?” Kobe was exasperated. He had been summoned to Kalus’s Villa and he stood, flanked by two guards, in the Patron’s study.
On the other side of a huge, ornate desk Kalus paced back and forth like a restless bio-pred. He was in a filthy mood. Behind Kalus the terrace doors had been thrown wide open and the heavy drapes billowed in the breeze, letting in the heavy fragrance of lemon and orange from the fruit groves that grew on the slopes. The sweet scent but did nothing to mask the sour taste of seething anger that filled the room.
“She hasn’t been enhanced,” Kalus growled, his eyes blazing. “The Directorate would have tested everyone.”
Standing behind Kalus, half in the shadows in the corner, was Counselor Baylor, advisor to the ludus. Every ludus had such an advisor. Their role was to provide timely advice on such matters as diplomacy between the various schools of training, and act as an intermediary between the Directorate itself which controlled and sanctioned how they operated, and the running of the Octagon Dominion.
“She killed almost half of my Elites!” Kalus shouted. The meeting had started cordially enough, but the memories from the infirmary were still raw, spiking his emotions. “I’ve spent all night looking at what is left of them. She injured god knows how many of those remaining. I don’t know if we can even prepare and field another full cohort in time for the next tournament.” It was true. There was real doubt that the injured would heal in time for the final Dominion of the year three months from now.
Kobe hung his head. He hadn’t been at the amphitheater to witness the defeat. Novices were not permitted. But he had watched on the vision screen together with the rest of the novices and trainees.
Novice. That’s what he still was. It had been twelve months since he had arrived as a recruit and he still wore the label of one who had not progressed.
Recruit. Novice. Elite. A path to be walked, but Kobe had stumbled.
Kobe didn’t need to be there in the flesh to see that there was something not normal with the woman who had sped across the screen, waging war on the Elites of Ludus Virtus with relative ease. The most disturbing aspect was that it looked like she wasn’t going all-out like the other Elites who were trying to stop her. She was obviously keeping something in reserve. Whilst the others crowded around the vision screen, watching in shock and awe, Kobe stood back and regarded the woman with a more critical eye.
No. She had definitely been enhanced. But instead of raising any suspicion, in the aftermath she received accolades and praise.
The Dragonfly. That’s what they were calling her. She almost seemed to fly as she leapt, danced and ran, her dark hair billowing out behind her as she moved.
“Our ranks have been decimated,” Kalus said wearily, as he sunk into his chair, the edge coming off his anger as he finally let fatigue lower its veil over him. He didn’t know what to do. They had deliberately come after his Elites, Toros in particular. He was singled out by the other cohorts as soon as he had entered the Dominion. It was a planned and deliberate assault on the best Elites of Ludus Virtus. A direct ploy to permanently weaken them.
“Why not the females?” Kalus asked of no one in particular. All of a sudden he felt very old and very tired. Tired of being beaten all the time. Beaten by Infernum.
“I don’t know,” Kobe replied.
Kobe had noticed it too. Infernum had side-stepped the only two female Elites Virtus had at play in the Dominion as they made a bee-line straight to the males and Toros in particular. Whilst the two Virtus female Elites had tried to stop the Infernum Elites, Kobe could see they were just brushed aside rather than attacked or harmed. It was almost like Infernum weren’t even going after the orb on the eighth tier. They just wanted to kill as many of the male Virtus Elites as they could. All the females were left unscathed. But Kobe couldn’t understand why, no matter how many times he had watched the footage.
Kalus looked up at Kobe but said nothing. Apart from the few remaining Elites, Kobe was the most senior novice left now. His position suddenly elevated. The novices that had entered the Dominion the night before, hoping to blood themselves, hadn't returned. They lay cold and still, shrouded in plastic awaiting incineration.
Kalus knew the true source of his demise. Magnus Krell. He seemed to be beating Kalus on every level. On the Board of Octagon he could feel Krell maneuvering against him. Building his allies, broadening his powerbase. And now he was beating his ludus with his own Elites.
“May I make a suggestion?” Baylor slithered out from the shadows and spoke up for the first time since Kobe had entered the room, until now preferring to watch and absorb the conversation. His long robe gave the appearance that he glided over the floor rather than walked. Baylor’s face was a mask, revealing little emotion or clues behind his grey eyes. “Perhaps the boy is speaking the truth.”
The boy. Kobe smirked. The veiled insult twisted like a knife in Kobe’s gut.
Kalus brought his mood to bear on Kobe. “Why should I listen to you anyway?” Kalus’s words were bitter with contempt. “You are still a novice. You should have taken to the Dominion last night, but my trainers tell me you still weren’t ready. You have been in training for nearly twelve months now and still you flounder.”
Kobe could see Kalus’s anger rise again. It was true. His progress was slow and harder than what he expected. Others recruits that arrived after him had taken to the Dominion. Some had died early. Some became Elites. Either way, most of them were dead now.
“Why did I ever bother to invest my time, money and training in you?” Kalus said. “You should have been out in the Dominion like the others and taken your rightful place. But you were not ready.” His finger pointed directly at Kobe as though one extra novice would have made a difference.
Kobe knew if he had, he wouldn’t be standing here now. Instead he would be in a body bag like the rest.
Kobe didn’t have a response. To become an Elite you had to kill another Elite, and since Kobe hadn’t launched into any of the three previous Dominions, the opportunity had not presented itself.
There was no room for two. Toros had reminded him over and again. To assume the mantle of Elite you had to take it from another.
But Kobe had done that. The constant reminder that his kill during the Pinnacle Trial was “unworthy” still grated on him. The rules kept changing to suit those who had the power to do what they liked.
“When will you be ready?” Kalus demanded, rising to his feet again. He hated having to rely on this young man now. Just hours before the Dominion, Kalus had given up on Kobe and given the order to schedule him for an execution cube—an order he'd rescinded in light of what had happened.
“Then do something!” Kobe shot back with a little too much steel in his voice. “All the others cheat and we just sit here and accept it. The woman was enhanced. So are probably all of Infernum. Do something about it. You’re the Patron of this ludus.”
Baylor closed his eyes and shook his head. The boy was not skilled in the art of diplomacy. These were not the right words to say. Not now. The boy had just condemned himself to step back into the cube by opening his mouth and saying what he knew was true.
Kalus stood close to Kobe, towering above him. “You’d best remember your station in life. Your life. The life I bought and that I own,” Kalus hissed through gritted teeth. “This is no game. This is life and death and I could end yours within a heartbeat!”
Kobe could feel his own blood begin to boil as well. “It takes more courage not to kill a man than it does to kill him,” he said, holding his ground under Kalus’s stare. Kobe threw the dice and prayed, turning it back on Kalus.
The room went silent. Even the air stood still for fear of reprisal.
Kalus’s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing on Kobe. The words seemed familiar but uttered by another’s mouth. You have been schooled by Toros haven’t you? Kalus thought. Was this just a ploy or had some of his teachings finally started to sink in through his thick skull?
“The boy makes some sense, Patron.” Baylor stepped forward further, almost in between them, trying to diffuse the situation. His voice soothing like honey. “This woman, the Dragonfly, whatever they call her. She was exceptional. Maybe Kobe has a point.”
“How?” Kalus scoffed, softening slightly as he turned to Baylor. “All Patrons are sworn to the Ludus Doctrine. It’s illegal to use enhancements. The Directorate will not allow it.”
“That’s true,” Baylor said, “but everyone else doesn’t hold the same righteous view as you or this ludus. The fires of greed and obsession will consume even the most righteous intentions.”
“We all get tested. Nothing is left to chance,” Kalus said, but he knew the statement was a hollow one. The testing technology of the Directorate always seemed to lag one step behind the doping cheats. History hadn’t changed a thing. Gene doping. Blood enhancement. Platelet boosting. They had been around forever, yet detection was getting harder and harder. Deep in his heart Kalus knew other ludi were enhancing their Elites. They had to be. Infernum had risen to prominence so quickly since Krell had become its Patron. They were getting the pick of the crop from the Pinnacle Trials and managed to get their fresh recruits to Elite level within months.
Seeing Kalus retreat slightly, Kobe pressed on but changed his tack, appealing to Kalus’s values. “I mean no disrespect. This ludus is built on the bedrock of being courageous and doing what is right. But maybe now doing what is right is having the courage to change and fight fire with fire.” Kobe detected a slight nod from Baylor. This was the right approach. Seek favor by first paying favor.
Kalus seemed to think about this for a moment. “I will not throw away everything that we stand for just to stoop and wallow like the others. I will not cheat by enhancing my Elites or novices.”
Kalus shifted to the open terrace. He needed to clear his head, his thoughts tainted with so much death and darkness of recent. He felt torn between wanting success, but instead having to swallow failure. Bad people just kept winning and coming first. Was there any reward left in the world for those who still had integrity? There was no satisfaction to be found in defeat. He needed the courage to accept the obvious and change. Doing what was right was destroying his Elites. However, doing what was wrong would destroy his soul.
“We are losing. Can’t you see?” Kobe said. “There is almost no point in competing. The others are cheating. It’s obvious. The girl has been enhanced. She’s like a machine.”
“I agree.” It was Baylor’s turn to appeal to Kalus. “The Elites from Infernum seem stronger, faster, more resilient to pain and injury.”
Kalus turned and faced Kobe. For the first time Kobe saw fear in the Patron’s eyes. It wasn’t the fear of losing his ludus and everything he had built with his own blood and sweat. It was another kind—a fear that Kalus had carefully kept to himself, steadily growing inside him with the recent string of defeats, so much so that it now consumed almost every waking hour he had—the fear of what would happen to his family, if the ludus faired badly again at the next Dominion. How would they cope? Where would they go? Another loss meant certain expulsion for them all. And with that meant another Patron, drawn from the ranks of the Octagon executive, would be rewarded with their own ludus. Kalus, his family and Ludus Virtus would be no more. His family would be stripped of its privileged status in society as one of the Octagon eight families that controlled it all. He would be demoted from the Board and executive, and sent back to a low-level role, lost amongst the turning cogs within the huge corporate machine. That’s what had happened to his predecessor. He and his family had been exiled to one of the desolate corporate server farms to live out their days monitoring network traffic.
“We need to field a full cohort at the next Dominion or we will all suffer the consequences,” Kalus said, his words flat and ominous. “No ludus has ever failed to field a full cohort before and I don’t intend to be the first.”
Turning to Baylor he said, “Where do we stand overall with our losses?”
Baylor had an updated report from the medical techs. He recited the awful statistics. It was worse than what Kalus had expected. More of the injured had died in the last few hours.
“From the full contingent of thirty Elites we fielded, fifteen are dead. Five are severely wounded and thus only ten remain.” Baylor’s voice was tinged with regret. “All the novices are gone as well. We only have the recruits in the barracks left to train up to replace them.”
Kalus’s face seemed to melt. He knew one of the injured was Toros, but it would take him weeks to recover—if he did fully recover at all.
Thirty.
That was the minimum required. Any less and you would bring shame upon the ludus. The pain would be too great, not to mention the odds would swing horribly against you. If you sent any less into the Dominion you faced the possibility that the other ludi would briefly join alliances at the very start to take-out such a small number. It was only natural. It was life, nothing personal, and strategy.
Kalus stood by the open doors and looked out onto the terrace again, pondering the figures. His face brooding and his mind curling back on itself like the billowing drapes around him. He stayed motionless for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at nothing. Trying to digest the enormity of the task at hand for him and his ludus over the next three months.
