The crater looked nothing like it did on any other day. The rim of the crater had been fitted with several rings of seats. In fact, most were already filling with fans carrying signs that said things like "Big Roy #1" and "Bessy Will You Marry Me?"
The delivery rocket from earlier in the day had been dragged away. Most of the larger items had been carted off, as well as some of the piles of 'scatter'-type junk. There was a large, pit-studded expanse in the center, forming an odd, oblong field. On either end stood a rumbling Beater, each aglow with the fires of the electrical energy flowing to the limbs.
Junior and Dank had left Firebird running for about an hour to fully charge the stones and to make room in the tank for the improved fuel, which they had inventoried at eight bottles. a test had shown that it would burn fast and hot, so they would need to ration it in the event the fight lasted longer than one round, which Junior hoped it would not. He didn't think his nerves could take it.
Trixie May had spent the intervening hours hard at work again on the coolant system, which also needed to be adjusted to take into account the richer fuel.
All three were comforted by the cool blue glow from the LED indicators at the Beater's articulation points as she rumbled in place. For her part, Firebird looked almost eager to begin the match.
As the crowd continued to thicken, Big Roy and Buck strolled up to conduct a close up viewing of Firebird's updates and enhancements.
"Nice paint," Buck drawled.
"Yep," Big Roy agreed, "Hope they's enough coats to keep Bessy from crushin' her with one punch."
They had a good laugh, while Dank and Junior glowered at them.
"She's got more than fresh paint, Roy," Junior offered.
"I hope fer yer sake it's a lot more than fresh paint, boy," Big Roy's face had lost all signs of humor. "Bessy's in the mood to hurt somethin' and I ain't one to deny her."
"So that's kind of like how you ain't one to pay yer own bar tab, either, huh Roy?" Trixie May pulled her hand out of the Beater's hip joint to wave, friendly like.
"You watch yer mouth, girl," Buck growled.
"Shut up, Buck," Big Roy held up a meaty hand and turned to face Trixie May.
"That's right girl," he continued, "but after this match I'll be back in the game. Mebbe I'll buy that bar off yer old man." He grinned wickedly, "Maybe you can have Lizzy's job. All of 'em, if you like."
Big Roy and Buck set off across the floor of the crater, laughing and patting each other on the back.
Junior had never wanted to be able to shoot laser beams from his eyes as badly as he did at that moment but, try as he might, he could not.
"Don't pay him no mind, Junior," Dank advised, "He's jus' tryin' to get you riled up before the match."
"Well," Junior agreed, "It worked."
Chapter Sixteen Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Delta Beta Ninety Six, Galactic Natural History, Era: Ancient -0, Animal Behaviour, Index Extinct Animals, Data source Museum of Ineffective Organisms
Before the last wild animals were eliminated as the threat to the Benevolent States United and the Faithful, creatures known as "wolves" roamed freely across the surface of Earth Prime in large, aggressive packs.
Rank order within a pack was established and maintained through a series of ritualized fights and posturing best described as "ritual bluffing". Wolves preferred psychological warfare to physical confrontations, meaning that high-ranking status was based more on personality or attitude than on size or physical strength. Rank, who held it, and how it was enforced varied widely between packs and between individual animals. In large packs full of easygoing wolves, or in a group of juvenile wolves, rank order may have shifted almost constantly, or even have been circular (e.g., animal A dominates animal B, who dominates animal C, who dominates animal A).
Loss of rank could have happened gradually or suddenly. An older wolf may simply have chosen to give way when a motivated challenger presented himself, yielding its position without bloodshed. On the other hand, the challenged individual may have chosen to fight back, with varying degrees of intensity. While the majority of wolf aggression was non-damaging and ritualized, a high-stakes fight could have easily resulted in injury for either or both parties. The loser of such a confrontation was frequently chased away from the pack or, rarely, may have been killed as other aggressive wolves contributed to the insurgency. This kind of dominance encounter was reportedly more common during the mating season.
Junior was surprised by the appearance of two Beater League officials on his side of the arena. Until that moment, he'd been pretty much ignored.
The one on the left, a hulking man in sparkling clean overalls and a long sleeved flannel shirt extended his hand in greeting.
"Pleased to meet you, Junior," he said, "My name is Hank and this here is Scooter."
"Nice to meet you," replied Junior, shaking the man's hand.
"We've heard a lot about you," offered Scooter.
"Really?"
"Sure," smiled Hank, "Big Roy tells us you'll put up a good fight for us tonight so we thought we'd come by and thank you personally."
"Big Roy said that?" Junior asked, bewildered.
"Oh sure," Hank said, "He said you'd put up a real fight, maybe even let him pound on you a few rounds, to make the crowd happy."
"Crowd loves a long fight," Scooter grinned.
"I see," Junior understood, the smile leaving his face, "I thought you fellers was comin' over to discuss a contract fer me."
They glanced at each other, then Scooter spoke.
"We can talk after the match, Junior," he was still smiling, "Let's not git ahead of ourselves."
"Jus' so you know," Dank interjected from behind his terminal, "After Junior here kicks the snot out of Roy in front of all these fine people, he'll prolly get a lot more expensive."
Hank and Scooter looked from Dank to the Beater to Junior and back to Dank. They were still smiling in that infuriating way.
"We'll take that under advisement."
