Alexander of Terra

CHAPTER 26: Pantrixnia Alexander’s head throbbed with a sharp electric burn. He marveled that Bureel hadn’t fried his brain completely. The familiar sensation of a cold metal floor brought his senses back into focus. He opened his eyes to the dull gray light of another dungeon, but one slightly different from his other cell. On the wall was a flat gray screen, and beneath it was a series of icons. He got up to investigate. He was stiff, and the nerves of his hands and feet like live wires. The physical pain only served to heighten his own criticism of his behavior. He was mad to compromise Nazeera as he did. “Funny way to show her I care,” Alexander scolded himself, looking around at his new prison. “This is Bureel’s work. I guess he’s calling the shots now, and I’m on my way to Pantrixnia. If I ever get out of this I’ll finish the strangling of him!” There was a thump, and he almost fell to the floor. A loud noise grew outside his cell. The screen illuminated and a female Chem appeared. It wasn’t Nazeera. “Terran, we’ve entered the atmosphere of Pantrixnia! We’ll be landing shortly. You may select whatever weapons you choose, and whatever clothing, but we will not wait for you. As we touchdown you will be discharged. That is all. Remember all the Chem Empire is watching you, may you die well!” The picture changed. It now presented a table of weapons ranging from energy guns to edged blades. He chose what appeared to be an energy rifle, a pair of hand held energy guns, a long knife and a sword. He expected to be on the planet longer than the Chem did, so he didn’t want to be entirely dependent on energy weapons. A second screen showed a similar table of garments. These included all encompassing suits of armor, light clothing and combinations in between. He chose a suit of mixed protection and weight. The weapons were behind an automatic sliding hatch, as was the suit. Alexander gathered everything about his person and hurriedly dressed himself. He was none too quick. He’d hoped to go back and review the choices at a more leisurely pace, but just as he shrugged the sword belt over his shoulder the ship bumped to a landing. He looked around for a door, but he saw none. Then the floor slid away beneath his feet. Alexander fell heavily to the ground. A hurricane of wind and debris surrounded him. Wet leaves slapped against his face and a rush of hot air pummeled him. Then, just a suddenly, the world quieted down and the sound of the jungle overcame the receding engines of the Chem ship. He was alone in the misty daylight of the Chem prison planet Pantrixnia. It was a jungle planet; that much was apparent. They set him in a small clearing. It had a dirt floor and was perfectly circular—obviously artificial. All around was a dense jungle, hot, moist and full of sounds. He wasn’t alone. Already, eyes were upon him. Alexander took out his pistol. With a cursory glance he guessed at its operation. There was a contact where the trigger should be. Aiming at a tree he pressed it. Nothing. Another glance and he found a latch that looked as though it moved. He slid it back and a red light illuminated on top of the gun. A small green light bar also illuminated in the handle. He aimed and pressed the contact again. A blast of blue energy erupted from the focus and the tree splintered and burned at the point of contact. The light bar in the handle shrank by a small amount, and gauging it he guessed there were fifteen to twenty shots left. Holstering the gun he drew the sword. The blade was lighter than a steel sword, and roughly a meter long by three inches wide. It had a comfortable feel in his hand, and he had no doubt that he could use it with great effect despite the lives that lay between the present Alexander and the swashbuckler. He kept the sword out as he turned to the jungle. Water must be his first order of business, and then shelter for the night—he needed to see the lay of the land. Through a gap in the canopy he spied a high crag roughly a kilometer distant. It was the obvious choice for a lookout, and might provide a defensible camp. Paths left the clearing in three directions. Alexander turned towards the crag; he loosened the gun in its holster, and held the sword before him. His plan of action, such as he had, was to use the guns as a last recourse, relying heavily on the sword. From what little the Chem told him of this place it was a twisted form of galactic coliseum intended for dispatch of criminals in an honorable way. If stocked only with animals, and no intelligent life, he hoped that sheer bluster would carry him through as much as his sword and gun. Animals on the whole, at least those of Earth, usually tried to avoid conflicts that would get them injured. Injury in the wilderness was a death sentence. Perhaps, he thought, bluff could go as far as combat. He hoped so. Considering the possible length of his stay the gun and the rifle would have frighteningly short lives, and swordplay would have limited affect on large carnivores. He stepped onto the trail, instantly aware of two things. There was a piece of armor or clothing lying partially on the beaten path. It was ragged on the edges and stained. The other object of note was the wall of impenetrable foliage on either side of the track. It was the perfect place for an ambush. He crouched, waiting and listening. For the moment he was at a loss as to how to proceed. A barely audible whirring caught his attention and he whipped around to face it, backhanding his sword in a whistling arc. A sharp metallic “thunk!” announced the collision between the sword and a floating metal automaton. His expectation of danger turned to surprise as the automaton, jumped upwards several meters at the impact. Shortly, however, it steadied and floated back down to him. It stopped slightly out of range of his sword and hung in mid air. “Edgy already, eh Terran,” said the automaton in a high pitched sing-song voice. “Welcome to Pantrixnia! I’ll be following your progress for our intergalactic ethernet broadcast, so no need to be alarmed at my presence. I see you’ve found our last participant, or what they left of him. He didn’t get very far. It was a very disappointing performance.” Alexander tried to hear over the artificial buzz of the automaton, but it was difficult, and that was making him nervous. “I’ll try to improve on that, now if you don’t mind,” “Let’s hope so,” the voice cut in. “After all we’ve a vast audience. Over fifty billion people of eleven different species are tuning into to watch you this instant. The level of interest is quite high. The Elder himself, and the entire Assemblage, is now watching you live on the Chem Homeworld!” “They honor me,” he said sarcastically. “By the way, that’s an interesting choice of weapons you have,” the automaton said. “Would you mind explaining your rational. We’ve never had a Terran participant before.” “Maybe later, if you don’t mind, I’m busy,” Alexander told it with finality. He’d finally made up his mind as to how he would progress. He made his way alertly over to the tree he’d blasted. As he crossed the clearing there was a slight tremor in the muddy earth, followed quickly by the heavy breathing of some cavernous breast and the sound of undergrowth being trampled. It reminded him vaguely of a dog trotting through tall grass, a very large dog. “We have our first guest of the day,” exclaimed the automaton. “You guessed it, the Banthror! As always he’s attracted by the sound of our drop ship. He knows what that means!” Alexander cursed, but he held his ground next to the charred tree. The sound grew louder, and suddenly a bright orange and purple striped head burst out of the jungle wall. It was conical, as if shaped for penetrating the dense jungle, and contained the requisite maw filled with tusk-like teeth. The head joined a muscular body, tall in front and low in the back like a hyena, but more the size of a large rhino wi