The next morning, her body was sore. The fight with the person in the gas mask pushed her beyond her limits, especially after she'd already fought five rounds. Immediately when she got home last night, she applied first aid and took some strong painkillers with a slight amnesiac effect. Not only did some of the injuries dissipate overnight, bits and pieces of what happened did too.
She dragged herself through the morning, skipped breakfast, and left. She hurried down the least trafficked back roads with her head down and her eyes scanning every corner. When she was finally in her office with the door closed, a huge sigh of relief escaped. She felt at ease until she saw her calendar. No appointments or meetings today, just one report. She kept trying to shake that creeping paranoia. It was just a slow day, it happens.
The hours crawled past, every minute a painstaking eternity of anxiety. When 5 o'clock was just a few minutes away, she started to pace around her office. Then, a knock on the door.
"Please come in," she said and quickly sat down.
"Good evening, Malory," Ghatt said, putting a snide emphasis on the name. He entered her office with three armed guards and closed the door. Shit. Her mind scrambled and she quickly summoned up a vision of Ghatt saying, "I'm here to offer you a choice."
She narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled and said, "Come now, aren't you curious about what I'm offering?"
"I'm satisfied with my current work conditions, Mr. Ghatt. If there isn't anything urgently pressing, I have dinner with some friends," she said. She grabbed her coat and stood up. Ghatt laughed.
"You don't have any friends here, Rye."
Rye froze. How did he know? Was he the person from last night? She felt sick to her stomach and couldn't focus enough to peer in to his mind again. Ghatt casually sat in the chair on the other side of her desk and crossed his legs.
"Please, sit. We can discuss this civilly."
"Three guns pointed at me isn't exactly civil." She continued to stand.
"It's for my own safety. You're a dangerous woman, Ms. Neviah."
There was a pause. From within his suit jacket, he produced a sheet of paper and set it on Rye's desk. He gestured for her to sit and she tentatively did so.
"Now," Ghatt said, "I want you to become a Legend in the Apex games."
"No way," she spat out.
"Ah, I figured you might object." He leaned forward in the chair. "You will play along. Or, I hand you over to your home planet's authorities where you can serve your death sentence."
Fuck.
"Not much of a choice," Rye said.
"I drive a hard bargain." He pushed the contract towards her. "Sign here."
Rye picked it up and read the terms of the single page contact.
Rye Neviah will play as a Legend in the Apex games, effective immediately, until further notice. Legend will occupy a residence within the Apex facilities and participate in the games on their weekly basis. Legend will remain within 2 days travel distance from the facilities at all times. Legend agrees to all medical procedures and vetting. Legend will follow all rules of the facility. Infractions of these terms will imply immediate termination of Rye Neviah as a Legend.
"I see," she said, setting the contract down. "I'll be exchanging death for a prison."
"Once you see the inside of the facilities you'll hardly feel imprisoned," Ghatt said. "Just try not to break any rules."
