After the Second Fall Pt. 03.2

"Then I am ready. I prepared myself before I left the city walls this morning."

"Then I will wish you good luck a second time," responded Pip, holding out his fist; after a moment's awkwardness, Ansu held up his own fist, which Pip bumped lightly, then turned back to Rachel. The champion from Rieckenburg hoisted the small woman into the air and squeezed her to his naked chest, kissed her, then set her down and walked toward the arena without a backward glance.

The entryway to the the arena was very similar to the Arena, but the subtle differences stood out starkly to Pip, who had fought for his city so many times. Disrobing, he walked into the final waiting room, then sat down patiently. The countdown on the wall was still at seven, so he focused on deep breathing and some visualization. As always, when the timer ran out and the door opened, Pip was ready.

Slowing time, Pip saw that Gracia had done a remarkable job in replicating the Arena, save only several black circles spaced evenly around the domed roof; these were almost certainly cameras so that the city's trainers could observe.

Across the sand, an equally nude Ansu moved forward carefully. The man was big, but at least two fingers shorter than Pip, and he lacked the hard definition in his chest, shoulders, and arms that Pip had gained through work in the Vale and his subsequent daily adventures on the road. His opponent's movements were fluid and competent, but also slightly sluggish, likely due to past injuries or perhaps just advancing age.

Knowing there was an audience watching, and having no desire to take on more risk than necessary, Pip decided a quick conclusion was in his best interest. He began to move forward confidently, closing the distance to just over a body length, then slowed and started circling to the left while gradually closing the gap.

Pip assumed Ansu would strike, but his rival appeared to prefer counters, so when it was clear they had closed to within range and yet nothing had happened, Pip threw a partial jab with his left hand. The response was immediate, but with time moving slowly, he easily slipped under Ansu's punch and grabbed both wrist and elbow; with an audible pop, Gracia's fighter was left kneeling on the sand in pain, two joints dislocated in the blink of an eye.

Retreating to his door, Pip released most of the tension from his body and waited to see how Ansu would react. To his credit, Gracia's fighter eventually managed to control himself and stand, even with his left arm dangling uselessly. Rather than try for a draw, Ansu walked forward on still unsteady legs, causing Pip to sigh and shake his head in disappointment, also moving to re-engage.

The second exchange was started by Ansu, who kicked out just as he got into range; Pip slapped the leg out of the way dismissively, and did it hard enough that it spun the smaller fighter, exposing his uninjured side. Pip grabbed the unintentionally offered shoulder and upper arm and with another awful pop, pulled the ball completely out of the socket.

Ansu screamed and fell again, legs kicking, eyes unseeing. This continued for more than a hundred beats until he finally passed out.

There were two more cycles of Ansu's pain before the bell finally elapsed.

A medical team rushed into the arena and to their fallen fighter. "May I?" asked Pip from across the sand. They didn't understand at first, so he walked over to the still unconscious man, trying and failing to appear unthreatening. "I dislocated these three joints," he said to the nearest medic as he pointed to the damaged areas. "I can put them back in."

Receiving only a frightened look, Pip took the initiative and reset wrist, elbow, and shoulder. "I think the wrist is quite bad, but the other two should tighten up over time," he said to her, but still received no reply. With a roll of his eyes he stood and stepped back several paces, waiting to see if Ansu would wake.

With the worst of the trauma addressed, the defeated Arenagod began to stir, blinking slowly and then faster. With a groan and help from the medics he righted himself, looking around in confusion. "I'm not dead," he said to the nearest, who answered only with a negative shake. "Why am I not dead?" he asked, nonplussed. The woman still hadn't found her voice, so she shrugged and pointed to Pip.

"Seemed counterproductive," Pip offered. "I'm not interested in killing -- I only do it in the Arena because there isn't an alternative."

Ansu nodded and with help from the medical staff gained his feet. "You honor me," he said to Pip with as deep a bow as he could manage.

Pip inclined his head as well. "I apologize for causing so much pain. It was the best way I could think of avoiding permanently injuring you, although I'm afraid I may have damaged your wrist more than intended. I think it is likely that it will always hurt."

Considering for a moment, Ansu replied, "Under the circumstances, I think it is better than many possible alternatives."

Smiling, Pip nodded. "Just so."

Chapter 18

After blinking for a few moments in the diffuse sunlight, Pip's vision cleared and he saw Rachel waving at him, standing next to a man and a woman he hadn't yet met. Seeing him emerge, she quickly excused herself and trotted forward happily.

"Well done, Pip," she said warmly as they embraced.

"You watched?" he asked with surprise.

She shook her head. "The two people I was just talking with -- they wanted to know why you did what you did."

"You mean why I didn't kill Ansu?" Rachel nodded. "There was no need. And no point."

"That's what I told them."

"So who are they?"

Rachel squeezed hard one more time and then turned. "The woman is their equivalent to Lilith -- her name is Fatina. Hancho is the man. He's responsible for their training programs; I believe he is also the leader of their military. They would like to speak with you."

"Do you think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's a good opportunity to learn."

"Yeah, okay," Pip responded after a few heartbeats. "Let's go see what they want."

Oddly, as they approached, Hancho said something to his colleague and walked away quickly.

"I thought the General wished to speak with us," Rachel said to Fatina.

"He is a proud man," was the reply. "Even after the recent match, he finds it difficult to accept that our Arenagods are not superior to all others."

"There was a match?" Pip asked Rachel, who thought for a moment, then nodded.

"We were with the Crannerts a long time, Pip. I hadn't considered it, but the six-month window would have elapsed several months ago." She turned to their host. "What was the result?"

A mild look of consternation appeared on the woman's face. "You truly don't know? How interesting."

"As I mentioned several times, we're not here on city business," Rachel responded, just a bit tersely. "We've been out of touch with world events for quite some time."

Pip slowed time and looked directly at Fatina. She was probably in her early fifties and bent forward at her shoulders, which gave her a slightly crooked appearance. She had deep lines across her brow and squinted heavily with her left eye; gray-streaked black hair was pulled back haphazardly, and she wore a loose fitting version of the soldiers' uniform in pale blue. In aggregate, her appearance was generally off-putting.

"Our Arenagod survived the match, as did his opponent, so the match was declared a draw." Pip took a deep breath and started to exhale his relief when Fatina continued. "Mojono died on the trip back. From what was observed, we believe it likely the Rieckenburg fighter would not have survived."

"Was the fighter's name Mars?" Pip asked.

Fatina tipped her head forward slightly. "Just so. He was a worthy opponent, but not your equal."

"He was my... apprentice, you might say. I will miss him."

"Administrator Fatina, thank you for this news," Rachel said sadly. "I would ask that we have time to grieve."

"Of course. Mojono was our great hope, and we also feel his loss deeply.

"Despite this loss, I warmly invite you to dine with me this evening. As much as you say you are here at your own choosing, perhaps the basis for an accord between our cities can be built on more... open communication."

"Thank you, Administrator, we gladly accept your invitation," replied Rachel.

With another bow, the elderly woman limped away slowly.

'Do you believe her?' Pip asked.

'About M-A-R-S? Yes. That is public information, so a lie would be useless. However, she is not what she seems.'

'Agreed. So what should we do?'

"Worry about it tonight. For now, let's see the city."

"What about Mars -- do you think he's really gone?"

Rachel shook her head. "I don't know. For me, since there's nothing we can do, I'm not going to think about it until I have to."

"I'm not sure I can do that."

"Me neither, Pip, but I'll try," Rachel said sadly as she reached up and took his hand. With a nod from him they started off toward a new sergeant that was standing nearby.

Many bells later, another group of soldiers led Pip and Rachel through streets of an obviously exclusive section of the city. Instead of basic brick and wooden structures, the buildings in this area -- homes, mostly -- were built from imported materials, including steel and stone and hardwoods. The construction was far from uniform, but there was a unifying aesthetic that somehow tied the area together, a kind of affected chic utilitarianism that argued 'We are just like you' to the low level soldiers and laborers elsewhere in the city. "I don't like it here," Pip stated flatly. Rachel just squeezed his hand.

The Administrator's residence fit the area seamlessly: big, but not too big; meticulously created and maintained, but not ostentatious. In the front was a simple sitting area with a low table already set with a tea service; Fatina occupied one of three mats and gestured fluidly to the remaining two as the party approached.

"Thank you, Sergeant," Rachel said to their escort, who bowed marginally before departing. A taciturn man, neither she nor Pip had any success in drawing him out like they had with Hada; the same had been true for their earlier escort, despite spending most of the day together.

"Welcome to my home," Fatina said politely after they had lowered themselves onto the mats. "Did you enjoy our city?"

Rachel deferred to Pip with a look, so he replied simply, "Yes, thank you."

"And you, Director Frazier?"

"I did as well, although I'm afraid the sergeant who accompanied us isn't much of a conversationalist."

Fatina allowed herself a small, controlled smile. "Just so. If you would like, I am certain a more talkative guide can be arranged for tomorrow, should you decide to visit the city for a second day."

Smiling back, Rachel nodded. "No disrespect intended, but that would be appreciated." It was not lost on Rachel that her counterpart was simply ascertaining their intentions for the following day, rather than actually being accommodating.

The subtle probing continued while they sipped tea, then into the following meal courses. Rachel didn't mind so much -- it was part of the game after all -- but Pip was clearly reaching the end of his patience by the time the final set of delicate plates were cleared by a matching pair of teen girls in pristine white clothing.

'She talks so much without saying anything,' he signed testily, though his face remained neutral.

'As expected,' Rachel replied, then turned back to their host. "Excuse us, Fatina -- Pip is not accustomed to formal events."

The Administrator smiled indulgently. "He is a man of action, after all, unlike the two of us, who are used to speaking around issues endlessly."

"Just so," confirmed Rachel with a smile, rising to Fatina's challenge. "Shall we instead speak plainly?"

Fatina locked eyes with the younger woman for more then a dozen beats, then sat up, her posture miraculously becoming erect; half a dozen years fell away from her face as she relaxed the semi-scowl she had affected earlier in the day and throughout the meal. "Why are you here?"

"To see the city," Rachel replied immediately.

"And to meet its people. Especially the fighters," added Pip.

"Ridiculous," dismissed Fatina with a wave, staring Rachel down. "He is the best fighter in the world. What you say makes no sense strategically."

"Agreed, but as we have already stated, we are not here at the behest of Rieckenburg."

"So what's to stop us from killing you both? Nothing."

Pip disagreed immediately. "Honor."

Looking up at Pip, Fatina made another dismissive motion. "Nonsense. Honor is an outdated concept."

"I disagree," he retorted. "Honor is the basis of the Arena, which is itself the foundation of interactions between cities. Without honor the system would collapse and the world return to the times before."

"You have studied the wars?" she asked with some surprise.

"My mentor did, and he spoke often of them. He would also talk to me about the flaws of the Arena -- especially about how fighting to maintain peace was so illogical -- and then he would explain why it was critical to keep the system intact anyway.

"You want to know why we're here?" Fatina leaned forward, her eyes intense even in the low light from the nearby torch. "It's because I broke the system. I... me... Piper... Pip. I broke the system. I've unbalanced it and now the entire thing may crumble because Rieckenburg is too powerful."

Pip took a shuddering breath. "It's true, isn't it?" he asked Rachel, pain evident on his face with the realization.

"Not necessarily, but it is one possible outcome."

"What else could there be?"

"Universal cooperation between the major powers, meaning Rieckenburg and the Big Three."

"And which do you think is most likely?" Fatina asked guardedly.

Rachel's face scrunched as she considered possibilities. "It depends. If Gracia will cede its technology to the other three, unification will become a realistic possibility.

"Otherwise, this city's lands will slowly be consumed." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "We haven't seen enough of the city, but we have been told that all its inhabitants -- at least the men -- have been trained as soldiers. This is only logical if the contingency is war in the old way." Her eyes opened again and looked to their host, whose features had assumed a carefully neutral tone, much like the surrounding buildings.

"Even without a standing army, Marbelo's walls are strong; trained men with sharp sticks won't bring them down by themselves, which means there's another part of the plan." Rachel turned to Pip. "Somewhere in the city they're manufacturing weapons. Guns are too resource intensive, but it's something big, probably something new."

Fatina leaned back and folded her hands in her lap. "And you think honor would keep you safe if even part of your conjecture is true?"

"And compromise," Rachel amended, now leaning forward herself. "Will you share your energy technology?"

A grim shake of Fatina's head was the only answer offered.

Rachel pursed her lips, preparing a response, but Pip spoke first. "Then I'll train your fighters -- your Arenagods." Both women's heads spun to face him. "And I won't ever fight in the Arena again, on my honor."

"If you would betray your own city, what would stop you from breaking your word?" Fatina retorted with a scowl.

Pip sat up tall and glared back. "It wouldn't be betraying my city. I will train your fighters and then return to Rickenburg, telling them what I have done in order to dissuade more challenges in the immediate future. In a few years, it will be as it as always been, with the large cities evenly matched. Lands will pass back and forth and the balance will be restored."

"Hardly," snapped Fatina, her ire now breaking through. "We stand alone against the Triumvirate -- there can be no return to balance."

"What if Pip stays here?" Rachel suggested. "I can travel to Rieckenburg alone to give them the message and then return with their response. I know Lilith Collins better than anyone living -- she will be reasonable. You may not believe me, but her deepest desire is unity, not for control, but for mutual benefit."

"Her actions do not support what you say," Fatina practically snarled.

"They do," Rachel shot back. "Life has improved dramatically in the city since the partnership with Northumberland."

"For you, but what about them?"

"I... cannot say," admitted Rachel, sitting back, "but you wanted to find the basis for an agreement, so you said, and this may be the best possible solution. Pip's suggestion has merit, but it will require trust, as any agreement does."

Fatina stood abruptly, eyes cold. "You will leave my city immediately. In the morning, I will meet with my advisors." She turned and stalked off into the house without another word.

"That was rather rude," Pip offered as soldiers closed in, pikes held ready. 'Should I show them what I am capable of?'

Rachel shook her head. 'I think it best to leave, but be ready, just in case. Hopefully the morning will bring good news.'

"Just so," Pip said aloud. "Sergeant, please escort us back to our camp." He paused for several beats, then added, "And if any of your soldiers' weapons come within a body length of either of us at any time, I will kill you all."

The walk back was tense, but uneventful -- the soldiers had apparently been briefed about Pip's proclivity toward violence beforehand.

Late that night, Rachel leaned back against Pip's chest, watching the waves. "Did you know all along?" he asked.

"Not this time, Pip, or I wouldn't have let us get into this much danger. I misjudged Fatina, too -- I knew she was a politician so I should have been comparing her to Cassidy or Harryx, not Lilith. Wishful thinking. It doesn't much matter now, but I do regret not figuring it out sooner."

"It's okay, Rach -- I'm the one that wanted to come here, and I knew it would be dangerous. I'm just sorry I didn't consider your safety."

Pulling his arms more tightly around her chest, Rachel replied, "I'm where I want to be, Pip, no matter what."

"And if they try to kill us?"

"They'll succeed, but not until you hurt them so badly that it sets their military plans back a decade or more. Either way, the balance will be restored."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yes," Rachel answered, "but I don't think we should go back inside the city until we know their intentions."

"So you don't think we can completely trust them," Pip replied, more a statement than a question.

Rachel didn't respond for a long time. Eventually she tapped his arm and he broke his grip, allowing her to stand. "You should be awake when they arrive, just in case. Go sleep for a while, Pip -- I'll wake you before dawn."

He paused for half a dozen beats, then nodded. "I love you, Rachel."

She smiled warmly, looking up into his dark eyes for several breaths, then turned and walked to the other side of the camp to watch the waves come, the dwindling fire upon her back. Pip took in the scene for a long time, feeling the mild warmth of the flames contrast with the sharp bite of the ocean wind, and watching the flickering light sporadically illuminate Rachel's otherwise invisible form.

Sleep should have been a difficult quarry for him, but renewed purpose and an unexpected sense of peace calmed his normally turbulent mind. Even so, a gentle nudge from Rachel was all it took to rouse him; she spent the final bell before sunrise held tightly in his arms, both covered in their full complement of blankets.

When Rachel finally woke it was nearly midday. "It's been a long time since I slept that well."

"Me, too," replied Pip as he set her down gently, whereupon she stretched dramatically, drawing the eyes of their companions in dark blue.