Girl in the Arena - Lise Haines [91]
Mark figures out a way to transport a sword and shield to Lyn, and both of us begin to look the part.
—We better keep the volume down, I say. —Thad’s sleeping.
I go off to the library and change into an outfit identical to Lyn’s. The real difference, again, is something in the eyes. That’s what Mark says. I think he’s kind of freaked the way I am, though freaked for Mark is a cool thing.
As Lyn and I face each other, the blood continues to trickle down her abs and runs down one leg and seems to drip into the carpet, but leaves no mark. We take up our swords.
i know not what i do.
—You sure I can’t get hurt? I ask Mark.
—As sure as I’ll ever be, he says, typing something into one of the computers.
—That’s reassuring. Um, Lyn, would you mind making a small cut on one of my fingers?
Lyn draws her sword over my outstretched index finger. The only thing I feel is warm air, as if someone has just blown on my finger. No blood.
—When I get this right, fake blood will appear where you’ve been cut. So, let’s see you mix it up, he says.
Before I get my shield up, Lyn whips her sword into the air in a circular motion and slices right through my neck. If she had had a real weapon, and kept it as sharp as Tommy’s blades, I would now be headless.
—You have to let Lyn have the upper hand, Mark says to my avatar. —And if you have to cut, go easy.
—I was just kidding, Lyn says. —You should have seen your expression.
I’m starting to feel queasy, but I know we have to make some progress and get her back in the machine before Thad wakes up.
—You’re going to be fighting Uber, I say. —He’s left-handed, so you have to be prepared for that. Maybe I should use a left-handed shield and sword so you can get the feel of this.
Lyn flops down on the couch. —I can’t do this.
Mark and I give each other a look.
—I have feelings for Uber, Lyn says. —Though I know I shouldn’t, because of Tommy and all.
—You programmed her to have feelings for Uber? I ask.
—Don’t you? Mark asks, tucking his hands up under his T-shirt.
They both stare at me, waiting for an answer. I can’t believe Mark is doing this.
—He’s actually a decent guy. It’s just . . . well, you know.
Mark gives me this look.
—Stop, I say. —Look, Lyn, if Uber and you fight, and don’t really hurt each other, it will be his last fight and you’ll never have to fight again, and we’re doing all of this for Thad. So you see, you want to fight but not fight.
—I’d do anything for Thad, she says. —Wow, I’m getting such a bad headache.
—Maybe your armor is too tight around your neck, I say.
—Just try working with your shields for a while, Mark nudges.
So Lyn and I stand again, and we make an effort at shield strategy. Only the strange thing is, there’s no sound when her shield hits mine.
—This is too weird, Lyn says. —It’s so noiseless.
—But you look great. I’ll get the audio portion going, Mark says.
Just then, I hear Thad call out.
—Mom! he shouts down the stairs. —Mom, I’m hungry!
Two days later Caesar’s spokeswoman, Sappho, appears on a round of talk and interview shows starting with Jon Stewart to let the world know Uber and I will be squaring off in the Romulus Arena in a little less than a month. She says that we are both in training and will not give official interviews until a few days before the match. She emphasizes the choice of combat over marriage. She goes on at length about Thad, his special needs, and his sister’s desire to take care of him at any cost.
Jon says, —Sounds like Juliet is turning on Romeo.
—Well, Jon, it is a fight to the death.
—But didn’t Juliet fake her own death? Jon points out.
—Maybe we’re taking the metaphor too far, she says with a smile. —Glad fans aren’t looking for irony. They’re looking for a fair fight, they’re looking for skill in the arena.
—Both of your opponents are eighteen or older, that’s right, isn’t it?
—Yes, Jon. If you can join the military, you can fight for the GSA.
—So you have two young, fit, and I assume, bright people—though some question their smarts in entering