Chapter 13: The Secret Arena part 2

August 2184

"Qix and Nails, they're coming down," Alyssa said, snapping Polaris out of his recollections. "Meet up with Tully in the arena before Skate leads the Hunter there."

"Right away," a voice that had an odd reverb affect replied, carrying through the speaker on the console.

He looked up at the screen that had the Maverick Hunter's communication line on it. 'Silver Wolf: Their security programs aren't functioning, so we can't get a direct read on what's going on. You should wait to spring their trap until the backup comes.'

'Mimosa: I doubt it's going to be anything interesting. Hang on, there's something odd about this basement.'

'Silver Wolf: Unregistered battle arena.'

'Mimosa: Well that makes it obvious. I can handle this.'

By Polaris, Alyssa shifted her headset's microphone down. "Now that's an amazing feat, being able to run fast in an armored dress like that. I wonder if it was made for her, or where I could get one."

"It would be something for a serious female fighter," Polaris said. Today, she didn't have that thin fabric cover with the floral patterns, so it was just a plain brown and steel armor-dress. She seemed to be wearing brown hair tied up in a bun, but on closer look it was actually a helmet styled to look that way. In one hand, she carried a rather plain looking brown staff. Three spiked balls that seemed more appropriate as part of a morning star followed close to her in the air. Watching her through the various cameras, she seemed more intimidating today, with the harshly focused look on her face.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter if we win or lose today," she said dismissively. "Although, I wish she had waited for some other Hunters to come. As it is, we'll only get battle data for her and there's supposed to be a lot of them in this city. But maybe they'll beat her. That'd be good too." She smiled, eagerly watching the screens showing the arena.

There, Tully and Skate (a dark blue anthro model with wings and jets that seemed more appropriate to air or marine travel than battling in an enclosed arena) were already talking to Mimosa. "Why'd you have to drag your ballroom dancing partner in here?" Tully asked Skate.

"Watch it, she's coarser than she looks," he replied, more like he was talking about someone who had rude manners rather than an opponent in battle.

"Is this where you Mavericks are hiding?" Mimosa asked. But, she didn't even pause to let them reply. "I'm going to eliminate any of you in our city."

Her commander disapproved. 'Silver Wolf: Slow down, get them talking for information.'

'Mimosa: Meh.'

The friction there seemed worrisome, but if Alyssa noticed it, she wasn't saying anything. Instead, she said, "Oh, where are the other two so they can start fighting? I have a great idea, but they should be in there."

Polaris got up out of his chair. This was a disaster waiting to happen and he wanted to be away from it. "I had better get going."

"But you're going to miss the good part," she said, looking up at him briefly. "I was really happy to see you again... there we go!" Smiling in a vicious manner, she input commands to the arena.

There, the other two Mavericks had entered the arena to surround Mimosa. "You'd better rethink your standing," Tully told her. "This arena here really tests the fighting abilities of reploids and these three are regulars. We'll be the ones destroying you. That is..." With no warning, the energy barriers making up the cage part of the arena shot up, enclosing all five of them in an area meant for battles between two reploids. "What? Alyssa, what are you doing?"

She laughed as she hit a button to reply over the announcer's channel, "Go on, smash her!" Then she shut the channel back off. "This is just great! He doesn't have a chance in that fight, but they'll probably take her down too. I should get a recording of this later."

"Why do you want him killed?" Polaris asked. Sure, they seemed to be arguing badly, but it was horrifying to see how Alyssa was enjoying this. "He's your husband."

"I hate him," Alyssa said. "He's so particular about everything. It all has to be perfectly clean and in a certain order... he even wanted to get the arena floor scoured so that the dirt wasn't there, but that's what the owners of this place want and we couldn't alert them too much. Not only that, but he keeps trying to control me, bullying me into doing whatever he wants." She pounded the control panel. "I just managed to shed that regret over not being able to be a servant! I'm not going to let that dullard take over my life, not on some mistake based on dumb human traditions. The only one I wouldn't mind taking orders from is you."

"Have you been listening at all?" Polaris asked, emboldened by a flash of anger. Who was she to call marriage dumb? "I don't want to be involved, especially once the other Maverick Hunters get involved." He pointed over to the screen. "Look, she's already taken down one of them."

Indeed, Mimosa had taken out Nails with her three spike stars. She didn't even seemed fazed that she was being attacked by multiple assailants, using her staff to block the multicolored triangular blades that Qix was using. Skate attacked her with a burst of green energy, proven to be a powerful acid when part of it hit Tully and ate through his armor. However, Mimosa's dress armor wasn't affected at all.

"Why should you be afraid of them?" Alyssa asked. "You're the Prince. You could get rid of them easily. We were just trying to make it even easier."

"I'm not like that," he said.

"You..." she paused, putting a hand to her headset. "You should go; their backup will be coming in soon. I will find a way to help you."

"Don't," he said, then opened up the elevator door to get out of the building. Hopefully this was quick.

I really don't get you sometimes. A few months ago, you were all mopey over her ignoring you. Now she says that you're the only one she wants to serve and you could get her to do whatever you want without argument. That only made you mad and you rejected her.

"I know," Polaris said, taking a couple of steps (but the elevator was small, not much to pace around in). "But the virus in her is making her feel that way. It wouldn't be real."

Why not? Her programming once told her to be obedient, as a part of who she was. Now it says that she should be obedient only to you. And those feelings will be permanent, not as temporary as love founded only on emotions seems to be. You'd never have to question her loyalty. Not only that, but you could influence other reploids to feel the same way. Nobody would reject you, or dismiss you based on prejudices. They call you a prince now, but you could be a king.

"I don't want to enslave others like that," he said. As nice as it might be to have someone love him unquestionably, it would make his follower less of a person. There was no reason Alyssa should have tacked on a statement that she'd be loyal to him after that outburst about being controlled. She wasn't as free as she thought she was.

The elevator stopped, opening its doors. One side led into the main level of the club, while the other led out into the alleyway, past a holographic generator that probably made it look like the wall from the outside. However, Polaris felt three reploids outside in the alley already, stopped a few feet from the elevator. From bad to worse... there was no way he was getting out of this unscathed. He'd been doing so well living on his own, and now...

Calm down. They aren't Maverick Hunters.

"How do you know that?" he mouthed, leaning against the elevator wall and looking warily at the alley.

Take a closer look. They aren't connected to the communications channel the Hunters are using right now.

There would surely be questions as to why he was coming out of the wall, and just because they weren't Hunters didn't mean that they would keep quiet about his presence. But Polaris didn't know this building well, and a choice between getting caught by Hunters and being seen by unknown factors wasn't that hard. He left the elevator for the alleyway, taking a look at who was out there. And... it was Kisa? The girl-ish reploid was wearing a red and gold kimono today, accompanied by two huge reploid guards, both eight feet tall with a build much like a powerful gorilla. They had orange skin under dark brown armor, and black horns in their short hair.

One of the huge goons started lumbering towards Polaris, but Kisa raised a delicate hand to him. "Wait a moment. He may be of use."

"Kisa, what on earth are you doing here?" Polaris asked, genuinely bewildered this time.

"Please state, in a plain and clear manner, what is going on in there," Kisa replied. "The Maverick Hunters are to have a squad arrive here shortly; we do not have much time."

She didn't want to be caught by them either? But neither she nor her goons had any traces of the Maverick virus. Still, he opted for some of the truth. "There's a group of Mavericks in the basement who lured one of the Hunters into a trap and I want nothing to do with them."

"I see," she said. Then she waved him to come with her. "You had best come with us. We can assure your safety from both sides."

"Are you sure?" he asked. What was with her?

Instead of explaining herself, she turned around and began walking down the alleyway. "We have little time." Her goons followed after her silently.

There really wasn't much time. Polaris went after them too, feeling twinges of anxiety in his power system. Past the club and its neighbor, they entered a private area of a parking garage where Kisa had to hold the door so he could enter. Sitting there was a hovering van, all black with windows shadowed so no one could see in. There was a reploid sitting at a small observation station inside the van, a slim but quite shapely female with a color scheme of mostly green. "We can't leave quite yet," she said. "Not until things settle down with them. Hello there, handsome." She winked at him briefly before going back to watching Hunter's back-up squad getting into position all around the club and arena building.

"That's fine," Kisa said, sitting down on one of the plush couches. "Take us out when we're safe. And scan Mr. Starr here for infections."

"Right-o."

Whatever scanner they had was powerful. Polaris felt it trying to pierce through his defenses, causing an unpleasant tingle inside of his body. Not only that, but Delta became agitated. Damn, quit prodding! I should be able to fool it, but gah.

"He's clear," the operator said.

"You're lucky," Kisa said, then indicated one of the other seats. The center of the van had them in an oval ring, with the driver's area in front and the odd observation station and other gear in back. The two big goons opted to stand on either side of the sitting area. "Sit down, please. You'll be my guest for a little while."

"Thanks," Polaris said, sitting down in a seat against the wall, across the corner from where Kisa was.

"Now what were you doing with Mavericks in our arena?" she asked.

"Your...?" He recalled that Nails had said that the Pajari mob family owned the arena. Polaris had assumed they were humans. Perhaps this was worse? Trying to keep calm, he took a deep breath. "Well, one of my former friends is a part of that group now. They were trying to convince me to join them. I had only heard about the arena before today."

"Which ones were Mavericks?" Although she was interrogating him, she still had a neutral but polite tone to her voice. She hadn't changed that at all, like an unfeeling intelligence.

"Nails, and, um... Skate? And Qix. Alyssa and Tully were the ones leading them, but she was my friend and I'm sure he's new to this area too."

Kisa nodded. "That is unfortunate. We will disconnect them from our group."

A part of him didn't want to dig too deep here, but his curiosity had to know. "Excuse me for asking, but what are you doing here? I thought you said that your owner runs a liquor store."

"He does. He also owns other businesses, such as furniture stores, the Iconaic factory, and electronics stores. He also does work on the other side of the market, like street goods, battle arenas, and sex workers. This is because he controls the whole family. And, I serve him directly, representing him often. The Pajari family is very powerful. We can protect you. Or, we can destroy you. Whichever you choose." All the while, never changing her monotone politeness.

"What would you want out of me?" he asked. He couldn't imagine a group like that doing something that had little benefit to themselves.

"You may not see much of me, but I pay attention," Kisa said. "You are an artist of excellent skills, are you not? And you are attempting to become recognized as a full citizen. All that stands in your way is a test in a few days and a judge to approve. Because of your teacher and our neighbor, you need only worry about the test. It would be of great detriment if you were connected to this incident."

He felt a shiver of fear hearing that. "Yes... that's all true."

She nodded. "Then no one will know of your presence here. I only ask that you meet with Mr. Pajari and agree to do a painting for him. There is no need to worry, for I am certain that father will agree that this is a suitable service."

Take a commission from the leader of a mob family? It wasn't something he'd ever imagined that he'd be doing. But, in exchange for their silence on what happened today, it seemed like mercy. "All right, I'll do that."

I'd make fun of you for being scared of a little girl... but she is terrifying.

According to the operator-driver of the van, Mimosa had managed to destroy Nails and Skate, injuring Tully to the point where he could be easily captured when her back-up shot out the cage barrier generator. Qix had been damaged and nearly destroyed, but he got out and injured two Hunters on his way to the security station where Alyssa was. The two of them had teleported away, but the van couldn't trace them. Despite being in a fierce close-quarters battle, Mimosa had gotten through with very little damage.

The Hunters then started clearing out the club building, so the Pajari van slipped out of the garage and headed back to their headquarters. Polaris had imagined that they had to be living in one of the mansions in better parts of Evergrande. However, he had failed to guess how impressive it would be. Kisa's other home turned out to be a small castle.

It was three stories tall, but had five story towers at each of its three corners. It was ornate too, with statues of dragons, gargoyles, and other mythic creatures sitting along the roof. At the front corner, a single gold-colored pillar stood in front of a cut out section that housed the grand entrance doors. Not only was the house huge, but it was surrounded by at least four acres of well-manicured gardens and lawns. Even the Everett house hadn't been this extravagant.

Also, the Everett house hadn't had a huge muscled man standing in front in the entryway for security. The van's operator dropped them off in the drive under the house's front point balcony, then took the vehicle elsewhere for parking. Kisa went right up to the doorman. "This man is a guest of mine; he is not to be bothered."

"Acknowledged," the doorman said, signaling the doors to be opened with a snap of his fingers.

Inside, it was just as grand. A lavish double stairway stood in the entrance room, made of fine wood (highly expensive given the state of the world) and marble. Tile mosaics made up the floor, beautiful geometric patterns in rich colors. Upstairs, there was a laughing conversation going on that was just far enough away to not be understood. Further down the hall on the first floor, there were a pair of men talking in a friendly manner. This was a palace and a home, a busy place if this was any indication.

"Welcome back, Miss Kisa," a woman in the entrance room said. She dressed exactly as one would imagine a maid: a black dress with a short skirt, a lacy white apron, a matching choker, white gloves, and shined black shoes. Perhaps that was the preference of the head of the Pajari family, given how dressed up Kisa tended to be. "Do you need anything?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'd like you to look after my guest for a little while. This is Polaris Starr." Kisa then looked to him. "I must speak with the master before I introduce you to him. It should not be long, but make yourself comfortable."

"All right, thank you," Polaris said. He didn't think he could feel comfortable here, though. There was too much he didn't know or wasn't sure about, but the wealth and power here was obvious.

"You could go see the English tea room," Kisa suggested. "I think that would interest you. I'll send word for you when we're ready." Then she headed upstairs.

"Please, follow me," the maid said, getting up and leading him down the hall on ground level.

Being a triangular building, the rooms inside were oddly shaped. Polaris glanced in a few rooms and noted that a lot of the furnishings had been custom made for this structure, such as display shelves and corner tables made to fit the obtuse and acute angles of the rooms. Those he passed by seemed to be geared for socializing, with lots of seating and small tables. Less noticeable to a regular eye were the security features. Most of them Polaris felt the presence of electronically, like scanners, cameras, and maybe even a few hidden weapons. However, the face of it all was friendly, beautifully designed, and proud.

The maid brought him into a room that was, as Kisa had said, a recreation of an upper-class English parlor or tea room, perhaps in the Victorian era. It had a warm and soothing color scheme, with creamy browns and yellows. Over in one corner, there was a serving cart with a silver tea set; the latter had a seashell motif. There was a stately grandfather clock by the door and, for some reason, there was even a standing harp by a stool. While it was all pleasant, there were also several large paintings on the walls.

"Most of these are modern recreations, so feel free to sit down and relax," the maid said. "Would you like some tea? I could get it hot or iced, however you like it."

"Iced would be fine, lightly sweetened," Polaris said, thinking over if he wanted to sit for a while or stand to look at some of these paintings closer. Either way, he really needed to compose himself before meeting with Mr. Pajari.

White the serving cart looked like older models, the maid opened up one of the lower panels to reveal a hidden refrigerator, just small enough to hold a pair of slim pitchers and a tray of small ice cubes. This family, or group maybe, was prepared to entertain just about anybody, so it seemed. Was it really a crime group? Maybe they were simply very good at attaining wealth.

They're also said to own battle arenas and other businesses that most people see as unsavory. All these pretty things were bought with violence, sex, and manipulations. Probably. I doubt they're honest given how she didn't want to be seen by the Maverick Hunters either.

Realizing that, Polaris felt uneasy again. Hopefully he didn't have to get involved any further than taking an art commission. That would depend on how much this Pajari family valued art, or possibly reploids. They might, given the paintings here. Then again, most in this room were portraits, either in the style of or actually from Victorian England. It could just be the interior designer's decision to keep consistent.

Two paintings didn't fit the others, though. They were French, portraits of extravagantly dressed court women. Still, it fit; from what he understood, English culture had been fascinated by the French for a time. When he moved closer, Polaris noticed that these two had extra security measures to prevent theft or damage. There were energy fields around them, invisible to the naked eye. He could feel them; trying to touch either painting would end up with a burning sensation.

"Here's your tea, Mr. Starr," the maid said, handing him a tall chilled glass.

"Oh, thank you," he said, taking it. Then he pointed to the two French courtesan paintings. "These two, I was wondering..."

"They're from the family collection," she said. "Some of the more valuable ones at that. Don't try to touch them; the head of the household won't even let us dust off the frames without a security 'roid watching the process."

He nodded and took a sip of the tea. "I imagine so. But, one of them is real and the other is fake... is that right? At the very least, they're by different artists."

"How would you know that?" she asked, seeming impressed. "I think that is true, that only one of them is really an antique, but most people don't notice."

"I couldn't tell you which one is the real one," he admitted. "I haven't had a chance to see many older paintings in person. But, the brushwork looks different between the two, so I wasn't sure."

"I wouldn't have noticed that unless I was really close," the maid said.

It was ten more minutes until the maid was called to bring him upstairs. The next floor seemed more for business, as Polaris could see offices and meeting rooms on their way. While he thought that the head of the family would have an office at the front point of the building, they went instead to the central area. A door sat as the front corner of the room, leading into a dramatic space which was illuminated by a large pyramidal skylight above them. Locked cabinets and full bookshelves lined most of the walls, but a few spaces were left open to hold more paintings (mostly nude portraits here, both men and women).

In the back of the room, centered perfectly, there was a massive desk with a black marble top, the seat of power for an imposing person. However, that person wasn't sitting behind the desk right now. Mr. Pajari was sitting in a red overstuffed armchair off on the right side of the office, seemingly taking a break for a cup of coffee. He wore a picture perfect black suit with a red tie; added to that were jeweled cufflinks, a jeweled pin, and a gold tie tack. Next to him, Kisa sat in a dainty child's chair, looking just as serious as before.

"Welcome," the man said heartily, waving him close. "Please, come sit with us. Don't worry, I have a soft spot for serious artists. So this is one of your neighbors."

"Yes," Kisa said. "As I was telling you, this is Polaris Starr, the artist. Mr. Starr, this is Mr. Pajari, the master of this household and organization."

"Pleased to meet you," Mr. Pajari said, shaking Polaris' hand. "I don't keep up as much on the modern art scene, but a few of my associates were excited to hear that you'd appeared in our city. We did go see the mural at the Everett University; wonderful work there, especially on the muses."

"Thank you," he said, still feeling tense as he set down the iced tea he had brought up to take the couch next to Kisa's chair and across from Mr. Pajari. "That was the first time I'd worked on that scale."

"You really ought to try it more often then." Once the maid was sent away, he picked up a tablet computer from the table. "Now, it seems that you were caught up in some mess with Mavericks trying to take over one of my arenas."

"Yes," Polaris said, mentally telling himself to stay calm and look at Mr. Pajari while talking. He wasn't sure if this place had a certain etiquette, but that seemed safe.

"What were you doing there, as a non-infected reploid?"

An obvious question to ask. "They wanted me to join them willingly, but I wouldn't. One of them was an old friend of mine, from before she got infected. I'm grateful that Kisa could pull me out of there."

"Then it wasn't for the arena itself?"

He shook his head. "No. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the building aside from that small group."

Mr. Pajari raised an eyebrow. "I see. Odd that you wouldn't be interested in the arena, since you seem to be capable of battle. You don't have any armor, but you do have the right kind of build for a humanoid fighter."

"I've had bad experiences with that," he said. It seemed to be safe to say. Then, taking a chance, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but why do you sponsor a hidden battle arena?"

"That's a fine question to ask," he said, not seeming bothered. "You see, I have a great deal of interest in keeping this city peaceful. Our family made a good decision in land investments here before the city was bought, and we helped to make Evergrande what it is. Now I don't want to cause trouble to the reploids who make their free lives here, like you do. But, I know that a good number of them were made during times of conflict; their lives revolve around battles, and it's not easy for them to settle into a quiet life. Thus, one of the first entertainments I had built here was a large warehouse for a battle simulator, to keep them occupied."

"That makes sense," Polaris said. The one at ARC hadn't done much to lower conflicts between such reploids, but it had been a small model. One that would fit in a large warehouse would be a lot better.

He nodded, seeming proud of it. "Yes, and it was well-received at first. We even let the Maverick Hunter group be regular clients for their training sessions. But as the city grew and more reploids moved in, it wasn't enough. A second similar arena was built, but it didn't satisfy all of them. A vocal minority asked for something more challenging and dangerous, while others wanted bouts for the entertainment of spectators and speculators.

"Now by the law, it couldn't be done with the two in place. The law didn't want such things at all, but I felt that as an outlet, it would be good to have. So I had three more commissioned, two small ones like the cage arena you saw, and a third that is an entire complex underground. That worked to satisfy all of the fighter reploids, even the hardcore group."

"How do you keep them hidden, especially if the last one is very large?" Polaris asked.

"They are," Mr. Pajari said. "I suspect that Silver Wolf knows of their presence, but he hasn't said anything directly about it. This incident could change things. But don't let that worry you. I can handle any inquiry they send my way. That includes about your presence there. I understand that you don't want that to be known."

He nodded. "That's right. I don't want to lose the freedom I have now."

"That's a perfectly sound reason," he said, nodding. "Then so be it; I'll make sure there's no records of you being there."

"The security records got wiped by the Mavericks," Kisa said.

Mr. Pajari waved that away in dismissal. "That just makes it easier and it was simple to begin with. Now then, I was wondering if you'd be willing to do a painting for me. I've been asking around about a particular item of interest and nothing I've gotten has satisfied me."

"I'll do what I can," Polaris said, but not relieved that Pajari seemed interested in the exchange for silence. If he was picky about what art he accepted, then it could still turn sour.

"Excellent! You see, I'd like to get a large portrait done of Kisa here."

Having expected to be asked to do a portrait of Mr. Pajari, this surprised Polaris. Wouldn't she be just another servant to him? "Kisa, huh? That could be really lovely." Unless he meant... Polaris hoped he didn't mean something like what he had hanging up in this office. She looked like a nine-year-old girl, which would be rather creepy.

Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about that. "Yes, we should find some exquisite outfit for her to pose in to show off her charm," Mr. Pajari said with a smile. "I designed her look myself, after a young niece of mine died. That girl was such a treasure, and so is Kisa. She should be portrayed as the princess she is meant to be."

Polaris nodded, considering potential compositions in his mind. "All right. I do most of my work in my apartment, but since she has a place there, it shouldn't be any trouble to work with her. Is there anything in particular that you're looking for?"

He shook his head. "No, not any more than what I've said. No wait... I'd rather it be realistic, none of that warping abstract nonsense. Her painting should portray who she is. If you do well, then the Pajari family is your ally."

Polaris was fine with that, although he hoped he wouldn't have to rely on a connection like that beyond today.

A mimosa is a type of plant that has round spiky flowers, hence why Mimosa has spiked balls for ranged weapons this time around. The names of the two of the extra Mavericks should be somewhat obvious. Qix has a name and weapon based on an old video game that I love.

My work on this has slowed down a lot, sorry.