After the Second Fall Pt. 01.3

"Looks like it. He cut up a few others, but they'll recover.

"There's something else, though: the guy that died... he was just a normal person. He wasn't a security guard, or a boxer, or even a ballsport player. They told me he was a farmer that made the trip to see you in person. One of the other guys that got cut up works at the water treatment plant. Another one works in the Meister's Office. They were regular people, Pip. I think that says something about how much this city thinks of you."

Pip thought this through before nodding and rising to his feet. "Can we do the same for the farmer that we did for the families from the ballsport match?"

"Sure, Pip," Lilith replied.

"Is it possible for me to address the crowd, those that are still here anyway?"

"Of course. Except for the one, all of our cameras are still operational, so whatever you want to say will reach the people that left, too. What do you have in mind?"

"I'll know when I start," he said as he walked to the front of the stage. Lilith was about to object, but decided that Pip's instincts had never failed them before, so she caught the attention of her stage manager and gave him a complex set of hand signals, which were immediately relayed.

Pip's looming presence soon had heads turning toward him curiously, and it wasn't long until the crowd quieted.

Eschewing the microphone, which only reached to his navel anyway, Pip called out loudly, "Rieckenburg!

"What happened here today will not be forgotten. Not by me, and not by you. There will be repercussions, and they will be terrible, in the same way these events were terrible. The only difference is that whoever did this will be repaid tenfold. I will have vengeance for myself. I will be vengeance for you." Pip stopped speaking, letting his words sink in. Within a couple heartbeats, a cheer started to rise up, becoming savage as it built in intensity, the crowd pouring out their anger.

"I am grateful for your courage, that you stopped this atrocity before more were killed. I would expect nothing less from my city." A second cheer built, this time less ferocious, but no less powerful.

"Nothing has changed. I will fight as scheduled, and I will win." Pip brought his left hand down on the podium with a loud boom, and the crowd cheered.

"Then I will fight again, and win again." Another boom and more cheering.

"And again." Boom.

"And again!" Pip brought his hand down a final time and the top of the podium seemed to explode as wood flew into the air and off to both sides. Pip turned and walked off stage with the crowd in an absolute frenzy behind him.

Lilith joined him as he climbed into the transport vehicle. "That was something else, Pip, and not what I was expecting. Are you okay?"

"No, ma'am," Pip said without looking at her, "I'm angry."

Neither said anything more during the ride back to the Complex. When they arrived, Pip stalked immediately toward Surgery-One. Stepping inside, he saw Maggie laying unconscious on the operating table while Dr. Shepard gently palpated her broken arm. The doctor's assistant quickly made her way to Pip, but he ignored whatever she was saying. She eventually gave up and walked away, only to return shortly after.

It wasn't until she pinched his side that he looked down at her. "Finally got your attention, huh?" Pip didn't respond, but she was undeterred. "You shouldn't be in here right now, but I can't move you, so I might as well take a look at your arm. Come sit down and we'll see what I can do." She led him to an oversized stool, then unwrapped and examined his arm. "Well, it could have been a lot worse. They put a quick drying dressing on it, but I think a suture will heal faster and hold stronger. Any objection?"

Pip looked at the woman, then let some of the tension fall from his shoulders and face. "Okay, Stitches, do your thing." She patted his good arm and went to get her supplies. A short while later, Samantha had sewed up the wound on each side of his arm, living up to her moniker with work so fine it was difficult to see. Across the room, the doctor and another assistant Pip didn't know were putting the final plaster in place on Maggie's arm.

It wasn't much longer before the doctor finished and made his way over. "Hello, Pip. Samantha says she took care of your injuries. Do you need anything?"

"No, Doc, I'll be fine. How is Maggie?"

The older man turned and looked at his patient. "We lightly sedated her, in case I needed to perform surgery. Fortunately, the proximal fracture in her left humerus was clean and didn't require me to reset it. I didn't see any loose chips, so with time the bone should knit nicely. Her right clavicle is also fractured, but it didn't displace the bone, which means she won't need surgery for it, either. We will immobilize both arms for the next four or six weeks and monitor recovery. I expect that she will be using both again without restriction in twelve weeks or less.

"She should be coming out of sedation within the next hour."

Pip took a deep breath, releasing the remaining tension he had been unconsciously holding. "Thanks, Doc."

"Of course, Pip," said the doctor as he turned and left. When he opened the doors, Rosie rushed in, stepping toward Pip, and then toward Maggie, not sure what to do with herself. It was clear she had been crying from the streaks on her cheeks and redness around her eyes. Seeing that Maggie was not awake, she decided on Pip and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around he waist. Pip rubbed her back gently as she started to cry again.

After speaking with the doctor in the hallway, Rachel had also entered the room, and was much more composed. She walked over to Maggie's side and brushed her friend's curly hair away from her face, then leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead before walking over to Pip. He held out his uninjured arm and she joined the embrace, hugging Rosie and Pip together.

When Rosie had calmed, she pulled back and looked up at him. "When I heard what happened, before the details came out, I was afraid I had lost you both. I don't know what I would have done," she finished, once again burying her face against his side. Pip gave her a squeeze, then gently disengaged, leading the two women over to chairs against the wall.

"Maggie should be waking up soon, so I'm going to stay with her."

Rachel took his hand in both of hers. "Pip, Rosie and I will stay with her. Once she sees you, she will be fine, and then you can go get rest." Rachel forestalled his counterpoint with her hand. "You need to get back to training, tomorrow, if your arm will let you. You can't do that if you're spending all of your time with Maggie."

"Rachel, I did this to her. I know it was necessary, but..." said Pip, trailing off.

"Pip, Maggie will thank you for what you did: you know that. So what you need to do is take your anger -- your guilt -- and put it into preparing for the fight. What Maggie would never do is forgive you for getting killed in the Arena. Right?"

Pip shook his head to himself. "Right," he acquiesced.

"Good. So you'll visit with Maggie, and then you will go get some rest. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I bet you're exhausted."

Pip nodded. "Okay, Rachel. You're right, as always," he allowed. Given the circumstances, Rachel was pleased and gave him a warm, understanding smile, then settled in to wait for Maggie to wake.

When she did, the visit was anticlimactic and a bit disappointing for Pip. Maggie was groggy from the sedative, and confused from the concussion. In the end, he gave her his own kiss on the forehead and returned to his room with Rosie, where the two of them were soon asleep.

Pip awoke when he heard his door open as Rachel entered. "Everything okay?" he asked quietly so as not to wake Rosie, who was snoring slightly as she laid on his chest.

She nodded as she disrobed. "Maggie is doing a little better, although she is still processing things slowly at the moment. I talked with Madame Bower and the women in the PET department will be taking care of her on a daily basis, since she won't be able to do much with both her arms immobilized. It should work well since she has so many friends, and they have lots of experience nursing people back to health. I'm confident she'll be fine."

Pip nodded, letting his head drop back onto the pillow.

"I also talked with Mr. Rogers about your training." Pip sat back up, partially displacing Rosie, who made some unintelligible sounds before settling back down.

"And?"

"And he'll take over until the two of you decide on a longer-term solution, which I expect will be after the fight."

Pip relaxed again. "Thanks, Rachel. I really appreciate you managing the details."

"It's not a problem, Pip. It's my job, and it's also what I like to do," she said as she crawled onto the bed. Seeing that Rosie had managed to half fall off of Pip, Rachel slid her gently off of his chest and onto his shoulder, then took her place, sighing fondly when Pip put his hand on her back. "Besides, this is all the thanks I need."

Rachel was soon breathing slow and steady, but Pip was left thinking through the day's events repeatedly, trying to determine what he could have done differently. Without any answers, his sleep, when it came, was troubled, and he was not well-rested when he left his room the following day.

Unlike most mornings where they met in the courtyard, John was waiting for Pip just outside the younger man's room as he emerged. The two looked at each other for a moment before John walked up and gave Pip a hug.

"I'm glad you're okay, Pip." The bigger man nodded, but kept silent. "Let's walk a little, and I'll tell you what we've found out so far."

John waited until they were outside, where being overheard was no longer an issue, before he started. "The shooter was a professional, which you probably already figured out. The Meister's Office thinks he was involved with a double murder here a couple years ago, but he was outside the city by the time they traced the trail to him."

"Do we know who sent him?"

"Well, they're working on it, but they do have a good idea."

"Brock-Loren, trying to avoid the fight?"

"It's the most obvious answer, but we actually think it was Northumberland."

"Whoa," exclaimed Pip. "Why?"

"In simple terms, it looks like a power grab. They are moving against Marbelo in the Arena, and we think this is their way of keeping us from following suit. After your victory, we can't challenge another Marbelo territory for six months, but when the dead period ends, we probably would for the same reasons that they are moving now: chances to make big gains against one of the Big Three don't come along very often. So, if they take you out, maybe those spoils fall to them after their own dead period."

Although Pip knew every detail about the Arena and its machinations, he was not particularly versed in the strategic politics that dictated matches, and his interest was peaked. "Why would me being dead matter that much?"

"Actually, Pip, it makes a lot of sense. Following the death of a lead fighter -- or even the second or third fighter -- conventional wisdom would be to step back any aggressive activities until the pool is back at full strength. The rationale here is that cities always have at least one of their top fighters ready in case they are challenged. In the last fight, when you beat one of the Big Three's top fighters without significant injury, it threw off the normal balance. More typical would be for you to also be out of action for the next several months, meaning that any follow-up from us would fall to a lesser Adam. The actual differences between the very best fighters aren't usually that big, so little differences in physicality or technique -- or anything else -- can make the difference."

"So now we have me, Stash, Rix, and Rover in good shape and ready to fight."

"Right," said John nodding. "We have the deepest Adam pool, and it's not really that close. Stash or Rix would have had even odds of walking out of the fight against Kobin, and Rover would have at least put up a good fight. With the four of you, we can do a lot of damage."

"So this was supposed to put us in our place?"

John shrugged. "Or at least make it harder for us to assert our strength."

After several moments considering this new information, turning it over in his mind, Pip stopped walking. "So if I keep fighting, and winning, we can keep the other three in reserve and be as aggressive as we like?"

John nodded, but was not smiling. "That's right, Pip. You can fight as often as you are able."

"But I could only fight Northumberland once every six months?"

"Actually, that may not be quite right." John took a deep breath before continuing and Pip got the impression that bad news was coming. "If we are able to confirm that it was Northumberland that sent the hitman -- that's an old word for somebody whose job is to kill for money -- then we will declare war. The Meister's Office has some fact checking to do, which should be done in a day or two, and then they can file the petition. After that, it will be up to the Arena Council to determine if the claim is valid."

"I've heard the term 'war' used from before the Second Fall, but I don't really know what it means."

"That's because we haven't had a war in more than three decades: after the balance of power was more-or-less established, they weren't practical." John took another deep breath. "If the Arena Council agrees that we were attacked outside of the Arena, they will uphold the petition, and we will be able to challenge Northumberland as often as we like for whatever period the Council sets. The duration is fixed based on the severity of the aggression."

"And you think our petition will be upheld?"

John nodded. "Even the preliminary evidence I heard was pretty compelling."

Pip's eyes narrowed. "How long will I have?"

"As I said, it's been a long time since there was a war, and this isn't something I've studied in detail. That said, my recollection is that wars for this kind of blatant aggression usually lasted long enough for three or four fights."

"So most of a year?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Pip turned and resumed walking. "I'm going to kill them all."

Standing still, John replied quietly, "I know."

Chapter 20

"I get it, John," Lilith said from her chair, "but it seems like a crazy risk to take."

"Not really, Sweetheart. If we wouldn't have caught the guy, there would have been no way to tie it to Northumberland." John shook his head, thinking to himself. "I mean, really, who would expect a bunch of regular people to take care of an armed assassin? Especially one that had a gun. I've never even seen one fired, so just the idea makes me cringe."

Lilith allowed his point with a nod, but wouldn't give in completely. "But don't they realize what is at stake?"

John shook his head immediately. "You're seeing the situation from your position, not from theirs. Think about it: what is the worst case scenario if the attack fails?"

"War, of course, which is where we're heading."

"Right, but go further. What happens when war is declared?"

"We challenge them over and over again. Our Adams destroy theirs completely."

"Close, but not quite," responded John, causing Lilith to give him a skeptical look. "We have three capable Adams, four if you count Rover. How many times could they fight in a full cycle?"

"Well, it depends on how hurt they are."

"Right," said John enthusiastically. "And remember that Northumberland has the best fighter in the world, a guy called Presto." Lilith nodded. "So at worst, they lose their Number One, but our Lead Adam wouldn't be in any shape to fight afterward, which only leaves one or maybe two of our Adams fight worthy, and only then if we're feeling particularly aggressive."

"But that doesn't account for Pip."

"Of course not, but he's a runt. Yeah, he beat Kobin, but that could have been a freak thing. After all, we put up an Adam with no previous experience because the land was off in the middle of nowhere, so who cares of he got beaten to a pulp?

"Remember, they don't know that the land was valuable, and I'm almost certain they don't know that Pip is our Lead Adam. I would speculate that they think he's only fighting again so soon because he wasn't hurt and Brock-Loren is lower level competition. Good Lord, he's even called Pip, which is short for Pipsqueak, an old term for tiny."

"Really?" asked Lilith with a grin. "He certainly doesn't strike me as tiny now."

"Yeah, that was my fault, but we can save that story for another day," John said waving his hand dismissively. "The point is that everything points to Pip being good-but-not-great, probably a solid number Two or Three. Do you see?"

Lilith sat forward and put her elbows on the desk, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on top. "So they don't know that he's something special?"

"They certainly do now," John replied, "and I would bet that every one of their fighters is hoping their name doesn't come up to fight him. The rally footage is everywhere now, and I'm sure they've all seen it. The truth is, if I was in their stable, I'd be scared shitless. Really, how are you supposed to hit someone that can dodge bullets?"

With the logic laid out before her, the larger picture was easy to see. "Okay, it makes sense. So how do you think this will play out?"

"First things first, he fights in two days and has to take care of business there." Lilith nodded. "Then, assuming it goes as planned, we immediately challenge Northumberland. Under the wartime rules of engagement, we will set the fight dates; we just need to allow for the minimum two week notice period."

"So you think Pip is going to fight every two weeks until he wipes them out?"

John nodded solemnly. "The Arena Council gave us the full year we asked for, which means we can fit in more than twenty fights. Our Adam pool is typically between twelve and fifteen, so theirs is probably similar.

"Realistically, if Pip gets past Presto, I don't think anybody else will be much of a challenge. Personally, I would like to see Pip take out their top two or three or four, and then have him split the load with Stash and Rix. That will share the burden and get the others experience. After the top ten or so, we could bring in Rover without much risk."

"John, is Pip capable of this? What we're talking about is unprecedented."

"I know he is. The only problem I expect is giving some of the fights to the other Adams."

"Really?"

Nodding, John released a deep breath. "He's mad, Lilith. I've known him his entire life, literally, and he's never actually been an angry person. He always treated life with a kind of detached professionalism, even as a kid. He was already becoming more aggressive with Max's training, but now he is well and truly pissed off, and the only thing he wants is to pay someone back."

Lilith's eyes widened. "Will that be a problem? If he's angry, isn't there a chance he'll make a mistake?"

"Normally, I would say 'yes', but for Pip, anger apparently means single-mindedness. He's more focused than I've ever seen him, so I don't see an issue, but I will talk with him about it."

"And you support this approach?"

John was quiet for a while, staring over Lilith's shoulder without actually seeing. When his eyes refocused to look at her, his voice was tightly controlled. "They tried to take my boy from me, Lilith, in a nasty, dirty, underhanded way, and they killed my friend.

"I'm angry, too. Really, really angry. I wish that I could be the one in the Arena, but that won't happen. My consolation is that I know Pip will take them apart piece-by-piece, and I can help him do it. Yes, I am fully supportive."