After the Second Fall Pt. 03.2

Half a bell later found Rachel wrapped in a wool blanket and pulled against Pip's side, the pair still watching the tide. "Better now?" he asked.

Rachel nodded in response and took a big breath, released it, then smiled. "Got a little overwhelmed, I guess. It felt like the ocean was calling to me."

A look of concern came over Pip's features so Rachel patted his leg. "Don't worry, Pip, I'm fine. It just felt like a milestone... a turning point in my life, standing here on the beach. I think tomorrow is going to be very important."

"In a good way or bad way?"

"Yes," she replied unhelpfully, unwrapping herself and climbing into his lap before pulling the blanket back around her shoulders.

The odd sense of foreboding built into the response, in conjunction with her atypical melancholy weighed on him, but Rachel's attention was unceasing and her motions insistent. Maneuvering just enough to provide access, she soon lowered herself onto him and started moving slowly, eyes closed and head upon his sternum.

Some time later Pip came back to himself again, shrugging off the hypnosis from the waves to find Rachel had increased her pace, punctuating the end of each downward motion with a sharp, feminine, staccato grunt, still lost in her own world.

Pip gently took hold of her hips and started increasing her motions, just a little further out and just a little harder back in again. Once, twice, three time and Rachel started shaking; once, twice, three more times and her control fell apart completely. Unyielding, Pip continued the motion and pace and a guttural noise erupted from Rachel's throat and mouth in the same way her arousal poured down his member. Her growl turned to a moan and then a keening wail, mixing with the cacophony of the waves, then dropping off quickly as her body shut down and she slumped forward.

It wasn't until the following morning that she woke to find herself nestled into the valley between Pip's arm and chest. "Welcome back, Rach."

After a stretch and several exaggerated blinks she sat up and smiled. "I feel wonderful."

"I'm glad," he said with a warm smile, which then faded. "It's time to go see what the day brought us. I heard voices earlier."

"Makes sense, I guess," Rachel replied with a shrug. "It's not like we were hiding, and someone was bound to come down the beach at some point. Do we just go out?" Chuckling, Pip returned her shrug. "I know. Just scoot out like you did when you were chasing Jill -- there's no way they'll think you're dangerous."

The dirty look that Pip sent Rachel's way did nothing to wipe the smirk off her face. Turning, she pulled open the tent and smiled out at the world.

Chapter 17

The dozen armed men loosely circling the camp watched warily; given the tent's size, there could be half a dozen men within. Voices and laughter from inside made it plain that the occupants were awake, but the waves masked their details.

Seeing the flap open suddenly caused a couple of the men to jump, but seeing a beautiful woman smiling out at them, hair wild and breasts hanging free, was even more startling. Whatever she said was lost to the soldiers due to the background noise, but it didn't really matter: most rational thoughts fled when she stood and bent over to pull something from within, presenting her rear to them unabashedly. Surely it didn't take that long to locate whatever she was looking for?

With a cheeky grin she righted herself and started getting dressed.

The next surprise may have been even more dramatic, difficult as that would seem. As the woman cleared the tent's opening, a metaman started sliding himself forward on his rear, awkwardly trying to get out of the shelter. As he stood his head caught the corner of the tent, temporarily tipping the entire canvas structure up, only to reach the limit of its tether ropes, at which point the large man crashed onto his back, his breath leaving him in a whoosh audible above the waves.

The men from Gracia looked on with wide eyes at the strange scene as both of the interlopers tried to regain their breath -- the woman was doubled over with laughter, tears streaming from her eyes. The sergeant was the first to relax as he let out a shaky breath and shook his head. With some simple hand motions he dispatched orders and two soldiers trotted forward with manacles, only to stop short when the large man raised a hand, palm outward. "Wait please," he said loud enough to finally be heard, rising to his feet. "Let me pack up our gear."

Without waiting for permission, the foreigner turned and began deftly striking camp. His quick, competent motions were at conflict with what the soldiers had just seen, and the sheer size of him was shocking. Nomadic metas would wander into the city from time to time, looking for food or employment, but this one was significantly bigger. Even under his dark clothes, massive muscles made themselves known, and the sergeant signaled his men to be wary; several took more aggressive stances with their pikes.

All the while, the woman looked on, not bothering to help her meta, although she did tap her foot impatiently.

When the gear was packed, the meta walked away, only turning when the captain shouted angrily for him to halt. Still walking, he pointed to a heavy patch of tall grass growing at the edge of the sand, toward which his was walking. The sergeant issued more hand signals and half his squad trotted quickly after, weapons ready. Rather than his own armament, the meta emerged with a contraption clearly meant for transport, along with a sheepish grin. "I had to get our cart."

With a roll of his eyes, the sergeant waited for the gear to be loaded, then once again dispatched soldiers to take the intruders into custody. With the restraints applied, the sergeant finally allowed himself to relax, but only a little: these metas were often a bit crazy. At least he had enough men to handle this one.

Within a hundred steps it was clear that this odd couple had never spent time on a beach as they stumbled along, slipping and tripping often, pushing their mechanical contraption. With their wrists chained together there was no chance to ride, and even if the captain had freed them, the wheels were too narrow to function well given the loose surface. "Enough!" he finally called, his frustration reaching its zenith. "Take this machine up the beach and leave it."

"May we take our bags?" the woman asked sweetly.

After several beats considering, the sergeant ordered two of his soldiers to conduct a search, which consisted of dumping the contents onto the sand and moving them around with booted feet. Seeing nothing but clothing and basic hygiene instruments, the sergeant consented; the woman gave him an unimpressed look at seeing their belongings scattered, then turned to the meta. "Pack it back up."

The man nodded immediately and dropped to his knees, quickly gathering, shaking, and refolding the clothing, then replacing it in the two sacks. Meanwhile, a group of the soldiers rolled, dragged, and generally fought the metal thing further up the beach where the waves would not reach. Finally done, the sergeant pointed impatiently to the city, but the meta was looking at the packs. With just the faintest hint of a smile, he looked up to the soldiers' leader, meeting the smaller man's eyes.

Taking a deep breath, the meta shrugged his shoulders and pushed his elbows against his sides as air left in a constant stream; after a pregnant pause, his hands suddenly shot apart, metal links flying into the air. Their gaze remained locked just long enough for the sergeant's face to register surprise before the meta slung the larger pack onto his back, pushing his arms through the two straps, then securing the second to his chest in a similar motion.

"Don't let him bother you," the woman offered as she walked past. "He likes showing off." The sergeant walked as she trotted forward, reaching up to take the meta's much larger hand. A heartbeat later and she had been hoisted into the air, squealing, then deposited a pair of massive shoulders, much as the sergeant liked to do with his own children.

"What do you think?" the corporal asked, now standing next to the company's commander.

"I think there's more to them than first appears. Send two runners ahead. Tell them to have one of our Arenagods meet us at Third Gate."

"Not First Gate? It'll take us an extra bell to get to Third."

The sergeant shook his head. "Something's wrong with this whole thing and I don't want to lose control of the situation. Actually, have them send another company, too, just to be safe."

For his part, the Corporal didn't look entirely convinced, but training in Gracia was excellent and he spun to carry out his orders without question.

"And have them get someone from the Arena Council as soon as they can."

Half a hundred steps ahead, Pip was enjoying his walk. Rachel had settled into her new mode of transport and was lightly tracing her fingers up and down his cheeks, around his ears, and through his hair. With the morning sun streaming through a light fog, their surroundings had assumed an ethereal quality, and combined with the fun of playacting for the last bell, the comfort of having Rachel close, and the fact that nobody had attacked them yet, he was feeling pretty good about the situation.

As they approached what had to be the main gate, the soldiers' leader gestured for them to continue on around the city walls, toward the rocky cliff into which Gracia was built. Rather than follow instructions, Pip stopped. "Come talk with us, Captain."

"Sergeant," the man replied automatically, then glared. "You don't give me orders."

"Please come talk with us, Sergeant," Pip corrected with a grin. "You're in no danger from me and I'd like to know about Gracia."

"I told you, I give the orders. Now start walking." Pip shrugged and started moving toward the main gate.

"Hey!" the sergeant shouted, but when Pip didn't stop, he whistled and with some hand gestures dispatched his men to surround the meta.

Pip stopped a body length from the end of a pike now pointed at his chest by the nearest soldier and let out an exaggerated sigh. With an apology, he set down Rachel, who immediately yelped and fell to her bottom, rubbing the back of each leg. "Pins and needles," she explained, which caused Pip to laugh, despite the escalating situation.

With a look to the sergeant, Pip called out, "Are you sure this is the way you want to handle this?"

Instead of answering, the smaller man's eyes narrowed and he pointed off to the rocks again.

Pip was moving as soon as the man's arm stopped moving. A lunge forward and to the left combined with a quick snatch -- aided by the ability to slow down time, of course -- disarmed the nearest soldier.

Less than a beat and Pip was back where he started, now armed.

"I would rather talk, but if you really want to fight, I guess that's okay, too."

Too stunned to respond, the sergeant froze. Pip gave him a dozen beats, but when nothing further happened, he tossed the pike back at the soldier to whom it belonged. "Really, I just want to talk. That's why we came."

Slowly coming out of his shock, the sergeant finally acquiesced and motioned for his troops to lower their weapons. Pip nodded in gratitude while Rachel climbed to her feet. "Who are you?" he asked.

"People call me different things. You might know me by Piper, or maybe the Reaper."

The sergeant was incredulous. "I can't take the Reaper into the city!"

"Why not?" Pip asked reasonably. "Is there a rule against it?"

"Of course there is! You're not allowed to be anywhere near here -- it's against the Arena rules."

"Actually, it's not," interrupted Rachel politely. "We're not here on behalf of Rieckenburg or anywhere else. Pip and I are are exploring."

"Pip?"

"Yeah, it's a long story. Listen, this is Rachel," Pip interjected. "She is one of the directors of Rickenburg's Arena program. Or at least she was. The point is that she knows what she's talking about. We wouldn't be here if it would get anyone in trouble or start a war."

"So why are you here?" one of the soldiers asked; the sergeant shot the man a nasty look, but turned back quickly to hear the answer.

Pip looked off toward the ocean for a long moment. "I'm not completely sure, to be honest. I'm trying to find something I lost -- my purpose, maybe -- but mostly we're just wandering." He turned back to the sergeant. "If nothing else, we're seeing the world." He looked up at the city then took off the packs, then plopped down on the sand. "It's amazing how different Gracia is from Rieckenburg or Marbelo."

"I can only imagine," answered the sergeant, also sitting.

Four bells later, introductions had been made and the entire group was snacking on dried meat that had been retrieved from the cart.

"Sergeant Hada," called Corporal Ranasda, pointing in the general direction of Third Gate, "looks like your two runners did as asked." The entire group turned to look as more than a dozen figures made their way closer.

"Well, nothing to be done now," Hada replied as he stood. "Just wait here and I'll go explain the situation." He paused. "It will probably take a while."

As promised, the sergeant intercepted his requested reinforcements; as expected, it took a while.

After too much discussion, Pip and Rachel ended up not far from where their cart had been parked, facing a fire with their twelve newest friends. On the bright side, the weather stayed fare and their gracious hosts called in a meal of meats and cheeses to go with fresh fruit; altogether, their welcome to Gracia could have been much harsher.

To the amusement, consternation, and/or embarrassment of the supervising party, the couple celebrated their relative success with a very vocal round of lovemaking.

After another restful sleep, Rachel stepped from the tent wearing a blanket and a smile to greet what she had begun to think of as their honor guard. She was surprised to see a man Pip's size standing next to Sergeant Hada, dressed all in white, a heavy contrast to the soldier's dark blue. "Pip, I think there's someone here to see you," she called into the tent, then walked over to meet the newcomer. "Good morning, Sergeant, and also to you, Sir."

"And good morning to you, Director Frazier," said the larger man.

"Just Rachel, please," she responded politely. "As we told Sergeant Hada yesterday, we're not here in an official capacity."

"Just so," he replied in kind, tipping his head, which showcased a missing ear on his left side. It was only moments later that his shoulders tightened and he stood to his full height as Pip approached. "So it is you," he stated flatly, his tone conveying both anticipation and uneasiness.

"I'm afraid so," Pip responded.

The man nodded. "My name is Ansu. I have been tasked with extending terms for entry into the the city of Gracia."

Pip bowed his head momentarily. "Thank you. What are the terms?"

Ansu took a calming breath, uncertain how the messenger would be treated. "An Arena fight, each morning you are in Gracia, against the opponent of the city's choosing."

"The rules?"

"The same as the Arena, save only the pre-fight testing."

Surprise showed on Pip's face. "You would have me kill your fighters?"

"We would observe you fight."

"I understand," replied Pip with a nod. "You will abide by the spirit of the Arena -- no tricks?"

The Gracia representative's nostrils flared. "We are a warrior society. Honor is paramount."

"I meant no offence. What about Rachel?"

"Should you be defeated, we will see her safely back to the Arena via transport on the day of Rieckenburg's next match."

"Excellent. I accept your terms."

Sergeant Hada exhaled loudly and Ansu managed a small smile. "This will please our superiors. Is tomorrow acceptable."

"Now is acceptable," Pip replied with a confident grin, which Ansu returned uneasily.

"I was told this was likely to be your response. We will go to the city as soon as you are ready."

Less than a bell later, after camp had been repacked and a small meal eaten, the party set off.

"What did you mean when you said Gracia has a warrior society?" Pip asked Ansu shortly after they started. "Does everyone fight?"

"It is an expression... and an explanation. Metas like me, who fight in the Arena -- we are revered. Honored. They call us Arenagods," he admitted, looking away and then taking a breath. "We are considered the pinnacle of the human form. Even so, all men are trained; all men are soldiers."

"So the administrators and farmers and scientists -- they're all women?" Rachel asked.

Ansu smirked and looked at Sergeant Hada, who did not look pleased; it was the smaller man that spoke. "As the Honorable Ansu stated, all men are trained. Some serve best by supporting those who fight better."

"So it is a mix," clarified Ansu, "like elsewhere. Our civil leaders are predominantly women, our military leaders exclusively men."

"And you, Ansu? Do you still fight?" Pip asked.

"Every day," he answered, his smile going wide; the rest of their walk passed in silence.

As they neared First Gate, Pip and Rachel were able to see the bas-relief figures carved into the tan stone: all were military scenes of some kind. The martial nature of the city became more evident as they cleared the entrance to find more than two dozen men standing at attention, uniforms crisp and pike blades gleaming.

The remainder of the journey took less than a quarter bell and ended in a large square, where a replica of the Arena had been built; flapping above the nearest entrance was the gold and black standard of Rieckenburg.

"A nice touch," Pip offered with a smile, "but I would prefer to fight under neutral colors."

Ansu nodded and shot a glance to Sergeant Hada, who walked the short distance to a waiting official, who in turn quickly departed after receiving the instruction to remove the flag. This topic addressed, Ansu asked, "Do you require the full preparation time?"

After thinking for a moment, Pip shook his head. "One bell will be sufficient." Rachel looked surprised so he added, "I'm a little stiff this morning from sleeping on the beach: I'd like to move through my kata." Turning to look at Ansu, he asked, "May I do my exercises here in the sun, or would you prefer I follow the Arena's protocol and step inside?"

Another meaningful look was pushed to the sergeant, who again departed. A couple hundred beats later he returned. "I am instructed to tell you that you may proceed as you wish."

Pip nodded his gratitude and then turned to Ansu. "Thank you for your hospitality. Is it you I will be facing in a bell?"

"Just so," Ansu replied with a bow.

"Then I wish you good luck," Pip responded with his own bow before turning to Rachel. "Will you join me?"

Smiling, Rachel nodded and stripped off her jacket, freeing up her shoulders and back to properly follow Pip through the kata; Pip went further and stripped down to only his undergarment. The pair were soon moving slowly through obviously deliberate motions while the soldiers -- and the Arenagod -- watched in fascination.

By the time the couple finished, more than a hundred Gracians had joined the spectacle; Ansu had failed to leave. Upon seeing this, Pip walked back to his soon-to-be rival. "I find the movements to be helpful in preparing myself physically; they also center me."

"I understand. We have a similar practice, but different movements. Were the situation different, I would be honored to learn."

Pip bowed in acknowledgement of the complement. "If you watched the entire time, then you haven't properly prepared yourself. I will wait until you are also prepared."

"Will it affect the outcome?"

With a sad shake of his head, Pip replied simply, "No."