234. …Good for the Soul
234
…Good for the Soul
M aya
“Okay, okay,” Zedd says, fear edging out the defiance in her voice. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to go on galaxy-wide vid and tell everyone that what you did was wrong.”
“But I…”
Was the stupid female going to protest her innocence? A’Dar’s bloody blade moves closer to her cheek.
“Alright,” she says. I cut her right-hand restraint, then she presses a finger tipped with badly smudged nail polish onto the screen.
“Females and males, I,” she pauses, and as certainly as I know my own name, I know she’s going to beg her viewing audience for help.
Quickly, I lean forward and press the same spot on her screen, turning the camera off.
“Bad, Jahzara, bad,” I say with the tone I might use with a naughty puppy. “Do I have to ask my adorable mate to cut you again?”
Although she doesn’t respond, I say, “You’ll get one more chance, Jahzara. One.”
“You won’t get away with this,” she sniffs haughtily.
Does she still not fully understand the depth and breadth of her predicament?
“Are you waiting for your security force out in the holding area to barge in and save you? What were there, maybe forty? Fifty? There are almost two thousand trained, armored, and armed Xenon warriors here, just itching to do their jobs. Do you think your paid mercenaries are going to risk their lives to save your sorry ass?”
She breathes heavily, nostrils flaring, then reluctantly presses the button on her screen and looks into the camera. Her face appears on every screen in the room. There are a lot of them.
“Females and males, I have done you a disservice.” If you didn’t know there were seven laser rifles and three knives pointed at her, and if you didn’t know she had two crimson stripes of blood oozing through the top layer of her red skin, you would think she was the most sincere person in the galaxy.
“I have seen the error of my ways and wanted to make a full and complete confession.”
There’s a little counter at the bottom right of all the screens. These aren’t on the screens all over the ship or on the portable ones they issued us in the waiting area. This must be for staff only. I see the numbers rise faster and faster. Is her confession going to make her money? Shit.
“I am a driven female, with one goal and only one goal. That is to give you the most entertainment your credits can buy. To that end…” she pauses as her eyes flick to the counter. She can’t hide the glint of greed in her beautiful green eyes when she catches a glimpse of the numbers rising at lightning speed.
“To that end, I have,” she clears her throat and swallows, “occasionally put my hand on the scale, so to speak, to influence the outcome of these Games. I know…” she lifts her free hand, palm out in the universal gesture of surrender and appeasement, “it wasn’t exactly fair, but I assure you, it was always in the name of providing you the high-quality entertainment you deserve.”
This vicious shrew is still minimizing the consequences of her behavior.
“Specifics,” I spit, my voice harsh as A’Dar wipes his dripping blade down her right calf, leaving a trail of blood without cutting her. Her pupils dilate with the not-so-subtle reminder of who controls the knife.
“It began on Down to One when I tried to assassinate your favorite team, Blaze and Titan. I know…” She shrugs. “It wasn’t very nice, but you all loved it, didn’t you? So exciting.”
She gives me the swiftest glance, as if enquiring if she said enough. When I don’t deign to respond, she forges on.
“It continued in Down to Two when I activated a hidden capsule under 1213’s skin to make him so bestial he would try to kill his partner. In my defense, for those of you who bought Pleasure Packages, watch again. The way he ravished her was… compelling entertainment.”
I reach forward to turn off the camera, mindful to keep my face out of the frame when I lean in.
“Last warning, bitch. Take responsibility.”
She swallows, getting my message when A’Dar follows the path of drying blood on her calf with a slice barely deeper than a paper cut. Her face pales even more and she flinches and tries to pull her leg away from the bindings securing her to the chair.
I feel a bit of glee when the hand she reaches to turn on the camera is shaking.
“I admit, I chummed the waters to attract the leviathan that season, hoping it would rise out of the water and kill all three winning teams. All for your entertainment, mind you. In Down to Three, I gave seemingly insurmountable tasks to what eventually became the winning team. That’s why we’re doing this Game on this backward planet. All of you remarked how much you enjoyed watching the little Earther females and their male partners in all three shows.”
She looks into the screen without shame as she continues, “But I did it for you, dear viewers. To make your viewing experience the pinnacle of your day. It’s why you’re all watching now. You enjoyed the last three seasons.”
“Apologize,” I order in a stage whisper. “Now.”
She takes one fortifying breath and then another.
“And for all of this, I am truly sorry,” she says without a hint of remorse.
I stop the camera, and glance at the credit counter which is spinning so fast, if it were real instead of on a computer screen it would catch fire from the friction.
“There. I’ve done as you asked,” she says with a haughty toss of her long black hair.
I’m not sure I should give the bitch my admiration for bravery or my sympathy for her refusal to face the reality of her situation. Does she really think we’ll let her leave this room alive after all the pain she’s caused?
I don’t know why I was avoiding the camera a moment ago. No one in the galaxy knows or cares who I am. After hearing what she did in the first three games, that Earth women were unwilling participants in all of them, and that Zedd stacked the deck against all three of them to make her heinous Game ever more deadly, righteous fury floods me.
“Focus the camera on me,” I seethe. “Turn it on.”
When I see myself on screen, words spill from my lips.
“Every single one of you needs to take a long, hard look in a mirror and ask yourself this question—who am I? Am I the type of person who would pull the switch on an execution? Would I wield a knife or gun to extinguish an innocent person’s life?
“If you are, you will not be welcomed into heaven by your gods.”
I know nothing about the hundreds of gods people worship throughout the galaxy, but I have to assume most of them don’t condone the murder of innocents, so I continue.
“If you wouldn’t kill someone in cold blood, why are you enriching TGN for doing so? You just watched 197 innocent females and 40 males die for no reason other than feeding your need for blood. The blood of every male and female who died in this Game is on your hands.”
My gaze flits to the bottom right of the screen where the counter has halted. Good.
“Turn off your vid screens right now. Walk away. Tell the people in your life you love them. Worship your god. Take a hike in nature. Tell TGN to stop getting rich by abducting, torturing, and killing people.”
I press the button that stops the camera, my chest heaving as if I’d run a marathon. Zedd’s aren’t the only hands that are trembling. A’Dar steps behind me and pulls me to his chest, his arm across my waist. Putting his nose to my neck, he breathes me in as his scent envelops me, calming the rising hysteria that was threatening to explode.
I have no idea if I did any good, but at least for this moment no more purchases are making the bottom right counter spin.
Zedd’s comm has been buzzing incessantly since I began my impassioned speech. Perhaps it’s her boss. I don’t give a shit.
Now what, I wonder. After I just lectured the entire fucking universe about how terrible it is to murder people in cold blood, can I kill this evil female?