Ghost Spark - Essence Engine

Ten

Author's note: Back after a week off!

Once inside, a grand sweeping stairway rose from the inlaid tile foyer. At the top of the stairs, a large semi-circular ballroom entrance was positioned about 20 meters back from the balcony. People mingled and the distinctive sound of clinking glasses echoed off the walls and stick smoke permeated the air.

"Ash Cloud fashion," Miko said dismissively; she nodded her head at a group of people standing in the middle of the room.

The group was taking turns blowing coal ash and dust onto each other's faces from a straw. They laughed as the black dust made their eyes tear, leaving the dust streaked and caked onto their face. Their hair was gelled straight back or at various angles and was covered in charcoal ash. Ankle length dusters looped black and white pictures and videos of human suffering. Their lips glowed a phosphorescent pink. They called themselves 'Ashers'.

The lights flashed three times and the intricate copper inlaid doors were pulled open.

"Pit viewing has now commenced. Betting will start in 10 minutes." said a voice from the PA system.

Miko and Marcus were swept up by the throngs of people slowly walking through the doors.

An acrid smell caught Marcus off guard as he entered the pit area.

"Burning flesh," Marcus thought to himself.

The smell of searing flesh and the distinctive metallic taste of artificial blood in the air caused a momentary memory resurgence for Marcus; fighting during the Chicago campaigns.

"This shit is fucked up," Becca said from the far reaches of Marcus's mind.

"Agreed," Marcus murmured to himself.

The Pits were divided into 7 x 7 meter spaces cordoned off by vinyl ropes. On the tables, they were being assembled. Runts as they were called were an amalgamation of animal and rejected human organs and appendages. All of it was then bolted to a hardware scaffolding, usually carbon fiber because people liked the way it splintered on impact. The runts were about the height and weight of a 10-year-old child.

One runt in particular caught Marcus' eye. Its legs and arms were constructed from a defective vat gorilla. The mid-section was a scaffolding of hollow carbon fiber wrapped Kevlar, covered with 5 inches of clear ballistic gel. The visible tubing was scarlet from the blood pumping from an oversized heart. Orange synthetic muscles flexed involuntarily beneath the scaffolding. Mounted to the of the top of the carbon fiber rods were two Chimpanzee heads, each facing a different direction. The top of the skull above the eyes of one chimp had been removed and replaced with a cable raceway. Bundles of optical fibers were carried from the optic implants to the back of the head where the bundles disappeared into cranial plugs. One of the plugs was leaking fluid, causing the runt to try and scratch the affected area. A synthetic muscle group tore from its anchor on the scapula. The disconnected muscle fibers quivered.

Once the Optic actuators and silica based dendrites from the raceway were bolted into place, one of the techs connected a neural controller at the base of the neck. The Heads jerked and the eyes started to move. Imbedded into the ballistic gel at the neckline, a row of four eyes with horizontal pupils opened stared blindly back at Marcus. The runt involuntarily convulsed as the techs gave the command to bring it online.

"They are called gladiators. It's a wonderful world humanity has created," she said.

"I've never seen anything like this," said Marcus.

"The local government looks the other way. I mean hey, there's no more basketball or football west of the Missisipi, so this is the only sport to keep the locals happy," she said with a sarcastic smirk.