Malcus picked up a scalpel, the blade catching the harsh light. He smiled, and there was nothing sane in that expression. “I’ve waited a long time for a specimen like you, Dane Tanner. I’m going to take you apart. Piece by piece.”

  “The Baroness gave you instructions,” I said as evenly as I could. “You’d best obey her.”

  Malcus didn’t even look up. “She’s not here. By the time she returns for another dose of titillation, she’ll have moved on to some other subject.”

  “What if she wants to know what happened to me?”

  He took a step towards me, scalpel raised. “You’re right,” he said. “I need to have something to show. Grix, turn on the cameras. We’ll do this with video taken from a dozen angles. The baroness will get her show.”

  I was poured out of the tube. Tuskers grabbed my arms, which were already reaching for their thick throats. They had to strain and grunt to control me.

  “An astounding display of bestial strength! Grix, we’ll have to sample every bit of the musculature and bone. If these tests are promising, we might make a Tusker with twice the power of our current strain.”

  So that was it? He wanted to make a better Tusker? I was disappointed. I felt like I had much more to offer. It would be an ignoble end to my DNA strands.

  Assistant Grix strapped me down while I wrestled and spat at all of them. Malcus loomed close, lining up his tools repeatedly. He couldn’t seem to get them just the way he wanted. His eyes were cold and clinical. I was a slab of meat to this clown and not a person.

  Just as the blade touched my skin, the door opened, and Callista strode in.

  In her hand, a digital writ flashed with official emblems. Techborn authority, the kind that made even a madman like Malcus pause.

  “Doctor Graven,” she said. “I have here a requisition from the Overlord.”

  “What?”

  Malcus’ hand tightened on the scalpel. For a moment, I thought he might actually defy her. But then he stepped back.

  “Baroness,” he ground out. “Surely you can see I’m on a mission for the advancement of science. This specimen is unique. The knowledge we could gain—”

  “I’m taking custody of this subject. Stand down.”

  Malcus’ face twisted with barely contained rage. But he knew he was outmatched. Callista held all the cards here, and they both knew it.

  “As you wish, Baroness,” he said.

  Callista nodded, satisfied. She turned to me, her gaze assessing. I met it head on, refusing to show how close I’d been to pissing myself.

  “Release the prisoner into my custody,” she ordered the ghastly Grix. “I will deal with him personally.”

  Huh…?

  What was Callista’s angle in all this? Did she have sly ideas of her own? Well… so what if she did? She was pretty good looking, in a vampiric sort of way. Way better than Grix and his blades, anyway.

  Things were looking up—way up.

  A shadow fell over me. I turned, coming face to face with the biggest Tusker I’d ever seen. Callista had a guardian of her own, of course. All the big-deal Techborn seemed to keep them around like guard dogs.

  He was ogre-sized, with a warped tusk jutting from his lower jaw. Battle scars crisscrossed his leathery hide. His small, dull eyes sized up a potential threat.

  “This is One-Tusk,” Callista said. “My personal bodyguard and enforcer. He’ll be accompanying us.”

  The Tusker grunted, a low sound that rumbled in his chest. I got the feeling he didn’t like me much. The feeling was mutual.

  One-Tusk had a single, gnarled tusk that curved twice on the way out of his unfortunate mouth. His piggy eyes stared at me, watching my every move. Once we were out of the lab, I breathed more easily.

  “Thanks, Baroness.”

  “Your thanks are premature.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re no longer a test subject, Tanner,” she said. “But you are still an asset—one that has yet to pay for itself.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but right now, I didn’t much care. She could beat me with a tire iron every night, and it would better than Malcus and his ghoulish sidekick.

  Callista turned, expecting me to follow. I hesitated, glancing back at the lab. I had no desire to stay, but I didn’t trust Callista either. She had her own agenda, and I doubted she had my best interests at heart.

  But what choice did I have? I was a stranger in a strange land, with no allies and no resources. If I wanted to survive, I needed Callista—at least for now.

  I fell into step behind her. One-Tusk brought up the rear. His heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor. I had a feeling I’d need to watch my back around him—and he certainly needed to keep tabs on me.

  One-Tusk’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, his grip like a vice. A silent warning, a reminder of my place.

  I shrugged him off, meeting his dull gaze with a defiant glare of my own.

  Game on, big boy, I thought. Game on.

  Chapter 14

  The corridors of Arabella were easy to get lost in. They twisted and turned like the guts of some great beast.

  I followed Callista, with One-Tusk plodding along behind me. His presence was like an itch between my shoulder blades—and I’m not just talking about some allergic reaction, either. I didn’t like having him tailgate me so closely.

  We emerged into a vast chamber, its walls lined with strange, glowing plants. The Radiant Gardens, Callista called it.

  Typical weirdness. The Techborn only seemed to like the most unethical science.

  I looked around, taking in the odd beauty of the place. It was strange like a scene from a remembered dream. Bioluminescent vines twined around the walls, pulsing with an unnatural light. Flowers the size of my head bloomed in neon shades of blue and purple. The air was thick with a cloying, alien scent.

  Callista led me deeper into the gardens, pointing out various specimens. I half-listened, distracted. Why was I here? What did she want with me?

  I glanced down at my still naked body. My hair was damp from the tank. Callista seemed unconcerned by my lack of clothing. In fact, she seemed to prefer it. Her ice-blue eyes raked over me, lingering on my scars, my tattoos.

  Some men don’t like being naked. I’m not the overly sensitive type. If she wanted to look—fine.

  One-Tusk growled something in his guttural language that was mostly made up of grunts and whistles. Callista smiled, like she could understand him. Maybe she could.

  “Patience, old servant,” she said. “The summation will be reached in time.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. I had a feeling whatever Callista had planned for me, I wasn’t going to enjoy it.

  We stopped in front of a particularly twisted plant. Its grayish-purple leaves writhed like tentacles. Callista reached out, stroking one of the leaves with a slender finger. The leaf curled upward to follow the motion.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said rhetorically. “A perfect blend of form and function.”

  I eyed the plant warily. It looked hungry to me. I half-expected it to lash out and grab one of us.

  Callista turned to me, her eyes glinting with a strange light. “You’re wondering why you’re here, aren’t you, Tanner?”

  “I figure you’ll tell me when you’re good and ready.”

  “You’re here because you’re special,” she said, “because you have potential. It’s potential that I intend to unlock, too. Malcus saw it—and he wasn’t wrong.”

  I didn’t like the sound of this already. I had a feeling Callista’s idea of unlocking potential involved needles and beatings—that kind of thing.

  But what choice did I have? If I jumped her shapely ass right now, I might be able to snap her neck before old One-Tusk could pry my hands away. Maybe…

  But then what? If I escaped into the passages, every Techborn clown in this crashed ship would be after me with a hard-on.

  No, I needed to play along for now. I’d bide my time, and wait for an opening. When the time was right, then I’d make my move.

  After bending my ear about radioactive plants, and how they fed off the phosphate-filled water from the reactor’s cooling jacket, Callista led me out of the place to her lavish quarters nearby.

  The place wasn’t a dump like my apartment. Plush velvet furniture, ornate décor—she had the works.

  She gestured for me to sit. I did so, sinking into an overstuffed couch.

  “Tell me, Tanner,” she said, pouring two glasses of amber liquid. “What do you think of the Dusters?”

  I took the offered drink, swirling it in the glass. “Tough folks. Survivors. They’ve carved out a decent life on a harsh world.”

  Callista laughed, a musical sound that didn’t match her cold eyes. “A life? You call what those savages do life? They scrabble in dirt. They’re barely above the beasts.”

  I shrugged. “They’re doing what they have to. Can’t fault them for that.”

  “Oh, but I can.” Callista sipped her drink. “The Dusters are little more than vermin. They lack vision, ambition. They’re content with their meager existence.”

  “And the Techborn are different?”

  “Of course, we are.” Callista’s eyes gleamed. “We are the rightful rulers of this world. We have the knowledge, the technology, the power. It’s only natural that we should govern over the lesser beings.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Lesser beings, huh? You’re not as human as they are?”

  Callista waved an emphatic hand. She leaned forward, spilling a drop of her drink. “That’s the problem. We share too much DNA with these foul creatures. The Dusters are like children, they need guidance and discipline. We provide them that—but we could do a better job if we were better people.”

  This woman was something else. Quite beautiful, no doubt, but her beliefs were an extreme and ugly opposite.

  “What if the Dusters don’t want your guidance?” I asked.

  Callista leaned back again. She sipped her beverage—I’d yet to touch mine, just in case. Her dress shifted as she moved to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. Was that an accident? I wasn’t sure.

  “We shall make them want it. We’ll transcend. We’ll become the god-like beings we’re meant to be.”

  “Huh…”

  She squirmed again, in her seat. Damn, she was good. Using her looks to distract me—it was working too.

  “Is that what you’re doing with me? Right now?” I asked. “Making me want it?”

  She smiled. It was slow and seductive and ended with her looking straight at me like a huntress. “Are you intrigued?”

  I downed my drink in one gulp. “Maybe. But I’m not a Duster. I’m not so easily tamed.”

  Callista rose, her movements graceful and fluid. She got in my face—in a good way. She flicked at my chest muscles with a sharp, red-painted fingernail. “I have a proposition for you, Tanner.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  “I desire your genetic material.”

  I blinked. “My what?”

  “Your seed, Tanner. I want to create offspring with you.”

  Realization finally dawned. She wanted to have sex. With me.

  I looked her over. She was strange, no doubt. But also, undeniably attractive. Those were some nice curves…

  “And what’s in this deal for me?” I asked.

  “Freedom. A place in our society. Eventually, perhaps even power.”

  I knew when I was beaten. I threw up my hands in mock surrender. “You got me.” Then, I reached out a hand toward her.

  Callista pulled away, and my fingers closed on air.

  “There’s a condition,” she said. “A performance is required of you.”

  “Uh-oh. Here we go. What? Do I have to impress your daddy or something?”

  Her eyes flashed dangerously. I don’t think she liked me bringing up her daddy—wherever and whoever he was—but I didn’t care.

  “No. Nothing so mundane. You must endure and survive the UnderDeck Arenas. I will only lie with a man who’s shown his true worth as a warrior.”

  I grimaced. I’d heard about the UnderDeck from Brandt—or was it Dr. Renn? Whatever. A brutal place where slaves and prisoners fought for the amusement of the Techborn. It was a death sentence for most.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  Callista clapped her hands in delight. “Excellent! We’ll escort you to the UnderDeck. Emerge victorious, Tanner, and the rewards will be great.”

  “What…? Like… now?”

  “Yes, Tanner. Immediately. I want to be sated tonight. Either your blood or your seed will serve the purpose. You already know my preference, so go and earn me.”

  We marched downstairs again. It seemed that every deck below the top ones got steadily worse. At last, we reached the UnderDeck. The lights were mere glimmers, here—but the stinks—they seemed to be accentuated.

  One-Tusk stayed on my six the whole time. I glanced at the big brute. He glowered back at me, his single tusk gleaming with spittle.

  What was going through that thick skull of his? Probably not much.

  When we got down to the UnderDeck, the passages contorted, leading us into Arabella’s bowels. The walls pulsed with a sickly light. Wires and tubes snaked along the ceiling. The air grew thicker.

  We stopped at a large door. I was rolling my shoulders and stretching, already steeling myself for battle. Callista placed her hand on a scanner, and it slid open with a hiss. Inside was a chamber straight out of Ancient Rome.

  Cages lined the walls, each containing a snarling, snapping beast. Some looked like twisted versions of Earth animals. Others were completely alien. All of them looked hungry.

  In the center of the room was a raised platform. A fighting ring. Bloodstains splattered the floor.

  Callista watched me as I took all this in. Her gaze was predatory—and delighted. “Welcome to the UnderDeck Arena, Tanner. Establish yourself here, and you’ll have every reward I can give you.”

  I looked at the cages, then back at Callista. So… this was what she’d meant by “performance.” She wanted me to not only fight, but to put on a show.

  I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s do it.”

  One-Tusk shoved me forward into a dank hole in the deck. I stumbled but kept my feet. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall.

  The corridor under the deck was dark, lit only by flickering lights. Shadows danced on the walls. Eventually, I emerged into a large chamber. It was circular, and the floor was crunchy sand.

  An arena?

  Robot guardians greeted me. Their metal faces were blank and expressionless. They were big, easily seven feet tall, with arms thick as tree trunks. I could feel the strength in their grip as they grabbed me and dragged me onto the platform on one side of the arena.

  I stood there, naked and unarmed, as a crowd began to gather. Techborn, in their finery, looked down at me like I was a piece of meat. Many of them leered. I guess they liked what they saw on the menu.

  Callista took her place in a high booth, overlooking the circular pit. She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on me.

  “This is my slave, Tanner,” she announced. “I’m accepting all bets on his performance tonight. I’m wagering he’ll make it to the last round and take the prize.”

  There were cheers and jeers. Not everyone seemed convinced of her words—including me.

  The robots shoved a heavy hammer into my hand. Maybe that was the kind of thing Dusters were accustomed to swinging in battle. It was a tool, rather than a true weapon. The head was worn and dull. The wooden handle was slick with sweat and grime. I got the feeling it had been recently used by a previous owner…

  The robots shoved me farther into the arena and slammed the door shut behind me. The walls of the pit rose up around me, high and smooth. There was no obvious way to climb out.

  The crowd thronged the edges, their faces eager. Hungry for blood.

  I hefted the hammer, getting a feel for its weight. The handle and the head were solid. I could do some damage with this.

  My eyes took in the Techborn, their fancy clothes, their smug expressions. I wondered if I could take one of them out with a well-aimed throw…

  But no. I was sure I’d need the hammer for whatever was coming next.

  Across the pit, a door started to slide open. It was splattered with fresh gore over a layer of crusty gore. A wave of stench hit me. I gripped the hammer tight.

  The door creaked upward, inch by inch. The crowd leaned forward, becoming excited.

  My performance was about to begin.

  Chapter 15

  I gave the hammer a few test swings, getting a feel for the balance. The crowd roared at that, figuring I was issuing a challenge. They were thirsty for blood—my blood.

  Scanning the sea of faces, I looked for a friendly one. I had no luck—but then, I spotted someone different. One Techborn noble was drunk off his ass, screaming for my death. He had a mutant on a chain next to him, a real horror show. The noble was betting against me, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  I gripped the hammer tighter. It would be so easy to shut him up. One good throw, right between the eyes. That was one way to go out. People might even remember this day.

  But then I saw her. Callista. She was watching me from her private box. She had that look in her eyes, one I knew all too well. She was getting off on this.

  I had to win this fight. If I could impress her, maybe I could get out of this whole mess.

  The gate opposite mine continued to rise, metal screeching against metal. I faced it resolutely, hammer at the ready.

  The stench was overwhelming, like rotting meat and sewage. Then I saw eyes, glowing in the darkness. It shambled into the light—a grotesque parody of a human being—a Duster mutant, warped by the Techborn’s dark experiments.

  The limbs were thick and powerful, corded with mutated muscle. Claws tipped its fingers, each one as long as my hand. Fangs jutted from its misshapen jaw, dripping with saliva. It looked at me with hunger.

  The gate slammed shut behind it. There was no turning back now for either of us. The mutant lunged, faster than I expected. I managed to sidestep, swinging the hammer in a wide arc. It connected with a meaty thud, sending the creature sprawling.