After the Second Fall Pt. 03.2

The Captain soon departed, but left two additional men to watch over the Adam, just in case. Pip rolled his eyes at the thought.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before the Mayor returned.

Unfortunately, he brought a host of people with him, including the two judges that had been at the Arena negotiation. Rachel could see Pip pull back into himself, so she did her best to shield him from the worst of the attention, but as the gathering swelled to more than twenty, she, too, began to feel overwhelmed. Thankfully, the promised food provided a respite as complicated Marbelan politics came to the fore around several tables, allowing the visitors' novelty to wane.

The food was sour; Rachel and Pip ate sparingly.

The accommodations were meager; they slept in their tent despite the cool Autumn night.

Dawn brought with it hope that the political nonsense was over, but Harryx had other plans, and it was two more days as circus attractions before they were finally taken to the compound.

Whereas Rieckenburg's Complex was a point of pride for the entire populous, the compound was far outside Marbelo, almost a full bell ride in an open transport. Seated in the rear as they were, the ride was uncomfortable, dusty, and loud, but with their silent speech, at least Pip and Rachel had no difficulty communicating. In the cab were a driver and a man in the gray and red uniform of the city guard; Harryx himself followed with another driver in a second vehicle that was sleek and black.

The facility itself was located in a teardrop shaped canyon only accessible from one direction. The buildings that they could see were utilitarian in appearance, made predominantly from tan bricks, and contained within a well-tended fence running the entire perimeter that was half again as tall as Pip. Immediately outside the main entrance, two large black vehicles were parked. Near the one on the right, five men dressed in plain gray uniforms loitered, talking casually; a sixth was lounging in the swiveling seat mounted to the flat bed in the rear, his legs resting on what looked like some sort of gun.

'This is not what I expected,' Pip signed to Rachel. 'I do not have a good feeling.'

'No, and considering the broken promises and lies of the last two days, they probably have a plan that we will not like.'

Pip nodded slightly. 'What do we do?'

'We follow your instincts.'

'More growing?' Pip asked with a smirk.

'Not this time,' Rachel responded seriously with a shake of her head. 'I think there is a chance they will not let us leave.'

Dropping his expression, Pip cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

The transport passed through an arch with a large black gate, slowing to a stop in an elongated ovular drive. All around were high walls with five doors emptying into the area. From the one furthest to their left, more than a dozen guards entered the space, each equipped with spears. Like the men outside, they were dressed all in gray, with the addition of black protective tunics that hung down past their hips and fastened at the sides, not entirely unlike the clothing worn in the Vale.

After hopping down from the vehicle, Pip assisted Rachel, setting her on the ground as the Mayor strode up. "Welcome to our compound," he said with a smile that was obviously false.

"It's a prison," replied Pip flatly.

"Yes, well, there were incidents in the past. When our program moved here, it was decided that precautions should be taken."

Pip stared down at the smaller man and his lack of a response quickly became awkward.

"Well," chirped Harryx with a clap of his hands, "let's get started then." He turned and walked toward the central door, the only one large enough to accommodate a fully grown Mod. Rachel and Pip followed, trailed by their guard escort.

One of the facility's administrators was waiting just inside, and after a perfunctory introduction came an equally perfunctory tour of a meeting area, a treatment room, and basic administrative facilities. Not once did they see anyone, Mod or otherwise: the tour route had obviously been cleared before their arrival.

In less than half a bell they were back where they started, with Harryx motioning them toward the transport.

"Excuse me, Carlos, is it possible to meet some of the Mods that live here?" Rachel asked. "I would like to see how your culture change initiatives are progressing."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible just now," the Mayor replied, clearly expecting the question.

"And why is that?"

"Schedules, of course," he replied, holding up his hands in a helpless gesture. "Everything is regimented and I'm afraid that upsetting the daily structure would cause problems."

"So you're not interested in Pip meeting some of your female mods?"

At this Harryx smiled brightly and clasped his hands. "We have a wonderful building prepared for him back in the city, one that is closer to his size. We will bring some of our finest females to meet him there."

"And the schedule?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, well, some flexibility is needed, of course."

Rachel nodded understandingly, working hard to keep from rolling her eyes. "Of course."

The man smiled and motioned back to the transport. "Shall we then?" Neither Rachel nor Pip made any move to the vehicle. "Is there a problem?"

Pip made a face as if he was deep in thought. "I was trying to think of how to respond. We shall not. Shalln't?"

"Shan't," offered Rachel, to which Pip nodded gratefully, then walked back into the building.

Harryx's eyes snapped open and he looked urgently at Rachel. "Stop him!"

She gave him a puzzled look. "How would I do that -- have you seen how big he is?"

The Mayor turned and made eye contact with one of the guards, then motioned with his head toward Pip.

As the men hustled forward to get in front of Pip, Rachel asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea?" It was clear from her tone that the question was a warning. In front of the door, Pip paused, looking back to Rachel for a sign.

Harryx's eyes narrowed, hesitating, then he sighed helplessly. "Listen, you can't meet them -- not now. I tried, really, but the Judges wouldn't hear of it. If he goes any further, I'll have to order the guards to arrest him."

Rachel took in his posture, the pleading look, the fidgeting hands, and the tapping toe.

Simultaneously, Harryx looked down at the woman from Rieckenburg. Average height, average looks. Underneath the tight black outfit he could see lean, corded muscles, especially in her forearms and legs. Her face was gaunt, dark hair pulled back. There was no softness in her appearance or expression. He dropped his act and stood up straighter.

"Give me a couple more days and I'll see what I can do."

Rachel raised her chin slightly, but didn't otherwise respond.

The moment stretched and Harryx tried again. "You don't understand. I don't have any real authority here. This whole place is run independently from the city government, the same as your Complex. If you give me a day, I will talk with the lead administrator and see if I can get you more access. I can't promise anything, but that's the best I can do."

Other than shifting her weight, Rachel's posture and expression didn't change as she continued to stare up at him.

The following silence lasted longer and Harryx looked up at a Pip twice, weighing scenarios. His facial features changed slightly several times before he abruptly turned and walked away, moving quickly into the second door on the right.

It was almost five hundred beats before he returned, trailed by a tall, middle-aged man with a strong jaw and dark hair.

"Director Frazier, this is Ronald Craxon, lead administrator of our Arena program."

"Director," said the man charmingly while extending his hand.

Rachel didn't take his hand; rather, she looked between the two men and folded her arms.

Rather than appearing offended, Craxon smiled. "I don't blame you, I guess. I've heard about your program and your Adams, and can see how our facilities may look quite harsh."

"It's the misdirection and misinformation that offends me at the moment," Rachel stated tersely.

"Old habits die hard. Isn't that right, Carlos?" the administrator chuckled with a light jab to the other man's shoulder. Harryx didn't seem nearly so amused. Looking back to Rachel, now wearing a more serious expression, Craxon continued, "I can't come up with a reason to let you see our compound or meet the Mods. What is the benefit for us?"

"Shared knowledge. Mutual advancement. And if you don't like those, the possibility that Piper may breed one of your females."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Piper," Craxon responded, looking over to where Pip was standing. The Adam was imposing, of course, but he'd seen substantially bigger fighters. "Somehow, I expected more."

Hearing the statement, Pip slowed time, then grabbed the pike of the guard standing next to him. With the application of some leverage across his knee, the wood snapped cleanly and was dropped at his feet, just as the man started to react to no longer holding the weapon.

A facial twitch gave away the administrator's surprise, then he looked back to Rachel. "It wasn't some trick then -- he really dodged those bullets."

"He did."

Craxon nodded, his jaw working subconsciously. "One moment please." He looked to the Mayor, then nodded back to the door through which they had come and the two men departed hurriedly.

'Okay?' asked Pip with a look.

Rachel nodded and started signing. 'Good thinking with the weapon. I think it impressed the new guy. We should give them some time to talk and see what happens. Be prepared. I believe they will either give us full access or attempt to attack you.'

'I am ready,' Pip replied.

Returning shortly afterward, Harryx wasn't wearing his politician's armor. "Craxon is making some arrangements inside. He's not comfortable giving you full access, but he will let you meet some of the Mods -- I'm not sure which ones."

"Thank you, Carlos," Rachel responded without warmth.

It was halfway through the bell when Craxon finally returned, accompanied by a dark woman with short hair and a white uniform. "Director, this is Dr. Brass, our primary physician. If Piper will submit a small blood sample, we would be happy to show you around."

Rachel nodded to Pip. "Ask him -- I don't make his decisions."

"Please excuse my biases," he apologized, then turned to Pip. "Mr. Piper, would you agree to provide a sample of your blood in exchange for a tour -- a proper tour, that is -- of the compound?"

'Ask for unrestricted access,' Rachel signed.

"Can Director Frazier and I move around by ourselves?" Pip asked.

"I'm afraid not," Craxon responded smoothly.

"But we can go anywhere with an escort?"

Craxon started to respond, then paused, looking to the doctor, whose face showed she was trying very hard to remain calm. He looked back to Pip. "Can you do another demonstration for our staff?"

Pip nodded and knelt down, holding out his arm. Dr. Brass's eyes widened and she looked to the administrator for permission; the man rolled his eyes, then gestured with his hand. The woman raced the dozen steps to Pip, skidding to a stop in front of his proffered arm. She opened up a satchel she had been holding, quickly withdrawing a needle and vial and preparing them with practiced motions, but when she positioned the needle, her hand started shaking.

She looked up to Pip, embarrassed, and received a smile in return. She became lost for a long moment in the darkness of his eyes, then blushed thoroughly.

Sighing with exasperation, Craxon turned to Rachel. "Does that happen often?"

"It does," she responded smugly.

Meanwhile, the doctor finished her collection and made her way back from whence she had come, but not before a look over her shoulder caused her to glance off a wall. Pip waved at the woman and Craxon sighed, fighting the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "Shall we start?"

"A request, if I may?" Rachel asked, receiving a nod in return. "Can we have the tour without the guards? I would rather not have any misunderstandings, and to be honest, there's nothing they could do to Pip anyway."

One of the guard's bristled at her statement and soon found himself a body length behind where he had been standing, having landed heavily on his backside without even seeing the Adam move. The other guards jumped in surprise and brandished their weapons, but Harryx called them off quickly. When the troops had gone he looked up at Pip. "That wasn't necessary."

"Maybe not," he responded, "but it did demonstrate Rachel's point."

"So it did," conceded Craxon, causing the Mayor to roll his eyes. "Anyway, let's go then."

They were joined on their tour by the same guide as before, although this time the man was much more effusive in his explanations, clearly proud of the compound, its inhabitants, and its staff. After a thorough tour of the main administrative functions, they stepped through another archway and into a large open space, much like the Complex's Courtyard.

There were no Mods, but there were a couple dozen people milling around or sitting, all of whom seemed shocked at Pip's presence. A general unease immediately washed over the crowd, who moved toward the periphery as the tour group crossed the space. Opposite the arch they had entered was a matching portal, this one closed by a steel gate; two guards in gray stood on the courtyard side with their pikes.

The men were clearly surprised when asked to open the path, but complied without objection and the tour continued, now without the guide.

The hall was straight and long and lined with re-enforced doors.

"These are our trainers' quarters," explained Craxon, picking up the hosting duties. He paused to open one, revealing a small space with a single bed, desk, and chest; there were some charcoal drawings tacked to the wall, but the room was otherwise undecorated. "Each of our trainers has a specialty they teach, and they rotate between our active fighters every six weeks."

They continued through the building, finally reaching the end where another archway opened to the main training ground. In the center, a man in gray was working with one of the fighters, thrusting forward with a long pole topped with what looked to be a small sandbag. The Mod was deflecting the simulated blows or ducking around them, practicing hand-eye coordination and footwork simultaneously.

Around the yard were several other mismatched pairs, as well as two Mods grappling, supervised by their respective trainers. As Annora had told them, all of the fighters were nude. "Well, here it is, the center of what we do," said Craxon.

Activity slowed and then stopped as the observers were observed, the noise of exertion dying out, leaving only the wind and occasional chirp of a bird. There was a pregnant pause of a dozen beats, then one of the bigger Mods started walking toward Pip. "You' re the Reaper."

"I am," Pip replied, stepping forward to meet the other.

The Mod coasted to a stop, two long strides away. "You here to fight?"

Pip tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "I might be up for a little sparring."

"Let's go then," came the reply.

Turning to look at Rachel, Pip grinned at her, then put his serious face back in place, following his challenger into the center of the yard, kicking off his shoes and shucking his clothes as he walked. Looking on, the two fighters might have been evenly matched. The Marbellan was taller, but Pip clearly had more mass, his muscles chiseled where the Mod hadn't yet fully filled out.

Ringed by the fighters and their trainers, the first exchange began with a lunge and a knee from Pip's opponent and ended shortly thereafter when a sweep planted him on his back. Pip didn't bother softening the fall or helping him up, given that he was proving a point. It took the Mod a couple dozen beats to get back on his feet, and when he did he was still wheezing slightly. A second exchange looked different while ending similarly.

As the Mod struggled to regain his feet again, Pip walked to the nearest of his peers and gave the man a questioning look. With a deep breath and an apologetic look to his trainer, the new contestant stepped forward. Rather than a careless dismissal of his opponent's attacks, Pip bobbed around, ducking or moving an instant before each strike.

After a furious flurry, the Mod disengaged, stepping back rapidly. Pip stood upright and rolled is shoulders, then placed his hands behind his back, expression neutral. After a moment, it was the Mod's expression that broke into a grin and Pip motioned him forward. The two were soon talking like friends as the ring closed in. Before long fist bumps were being handed out as introductions proceeded.

"That's unbelievable," said Harryx.

"That's Pip," replied Rachel.

Chapter 13

'How did it go?'

'Well. I have a better sense of the giants here now, and their program in general. It is in really bad shape, which we suspected."

Rachel gave him a questioning look, so Pip continued signing.

'That first fighter that stepped up earlier, he is their number three. We have at least a dozen giants that would be his match. They will recover, but it will be years.'

'Is there more to be learned?'

Pip shook his head. 'Not really. Their training methods are different than ours, so there could be small things, but nothing that will really change what we do.'

'What about the giants that do not fight?'

Sighing, he gave another shake of his head. 'Very similar to Annora. There is almost no mixing between them and the people here.'

'Did you see her?'

'No. I hope that means she is still at the Complex.'

Nodding, Rachel signed, 'Are you done here then?'

'I can be. What about you?'

Rachel chuckled and pushed her hair back from her face. 'Definitely. C-A-R-L-O-S does nothing but lie and R-O-N-A-L-D will not stop making advances.'

'I can make their deaths look like an accident,' Pip offered hopefully, to which Rachel shook her head and smiled.

'So none of the female giants seemed interesting?'

He answered with a shrug and their silent conversation ceased.

Making a show of listening to whatever Craxon was saying, she nodded, then looked back to Pip and rolled her eyes. Across the yard, he was casually watching as two of the Mods wrestled, but it wasn't particularly interesting given that their respective techniques were each a work-in-progress.

In his periphery he saw someone enter the space and turned to see the physician from earlier walk toward where Rachel, Harryx, and Craxon were seated on a bench. Locking eyes with Rachel, he looked to the doctor and then back again, raising an eyebrow. Grinning, Rachel nodded and hopped up -- surprising Craxon -- and quickly intercepted the woman by taking her elbow before she could reach the men. In moments the pair were walking toward where Pip was now standing, still sans clothing.

After a moment of confusion, the woman figured out where Rachel was leading her and flushed, missing a step. "Hello, Dr. Brass," Pip said as the women approached. "Is there somewhere private we can talk? I'm sure you have questions for me."

Rather than answering, the woman was staring at Pip's exposed penis, which was roughly at her eye level. It took several taps from Rachel before she finally surfaced from her distracted state. "Yes, what?" Pip repeated his question and she brightened immediately, the air escaping from her head in an almost audible whoosh. "Oh, definitely, there are many things I would like to ask."

"We'll do our best to help. My name is Rachel, and this is Pip."

"Oh, excuse me," Dr. Brass exclaimed. "Having you here has thrown me for such a loop. I'm Marsha."

A bell later, Marsha was a good deal less pleased. She stepped back and put her hands on her hips while blowing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. Frustration was evident on her face and Pip was having a hard time not laughing. "I don't understand," she said, mostly to herself. "I can't find anything different." Pip was laying on an examination table, hands laced behind his head, and the doctor had just finished what amounted to a physical.