Chapter 48: The Immortals' Tournament Begins

There were two constants: the whirring of the helicopter blades and the angry admonitions from H. Rick simply sat in his seat, looking out the window as they neared their destination.

H was saying all the same things he'd heard before: that Rick's discipline was lagging, that he'd be left behind other fighters, that family matters needed to be managed, that he needed to decide if he wanted to be in the Showdown at all. Now that Rick was certain that H was merely one of Alger's tools, none of them stung. Part of him wanted to just bluntly ask the other man exactly what he'd been ordered to do, though of course he kept his mouth shut.

Though Rick had expected a city at first, as they passed over empty southern plains, he realized that of course Josiah wouldn't live near anyone else. As the helicopter began flying lower, he saw nothing but a single highway stretching forever in both directions, surrounded by desolate fields. Not even the crops Rick was used to, but patchy gray and brown wasteland.

Finally something else came into view: an isolated bus station. For about a mile around it, there were street lamps, a few still flickering in the morning shadows. Just as those began to disappear behind them, he spotted it: an enormous mansion off the side of the road. The driveway out to the mansion looked half a mile long and it was all finely ground rock.

"Almost here." H finally stopped his ranting to turn back to him. "Take off that stupid jacket and put on a proper combat suit before we land. You'll be representing Josiah in his own home, so you need to put in a good appearance as well as a good fight."

Rick cooperated, carefully removing his favored red jacket. It had been a comforting bit of familiarity, but it wasn't what mattered. He slid it into his backpack along with the other things he'd prepared. If they were searched, he might have a problem, but it all should be explainable enough.

His fingers twitched, wishing for the elysian rabbit fur Wemilat had sent. Bringing it along would have reduced his stress, but he didn't want to risk losing it. Most of what he carried was the modified Formula T, plus he had a vial of Melissa's void elixir in his pocket. That would have to be enough.

As they landed beside the mansion, however, there was no sign of any guards. Rick did spot servants in archaic uniforms moving around closer to the house and in the garden. Past them, he saw a pool surrounding an octagon of stone in the center: no doubt a traditional combat ring. So that was where the fights would take place.

"Yo, Rick! You're finally here!" Raggest burst out from the front of one of the mansion doors, rushing toward him. "I thought you weren't going to make it!"

"He nearly didn't." H managed to halt Raggest's charge with a concentrated glower. "I don't want you to distract him with any hare-brained schemes. We need time to prepare."

"Naw, I'm sure Rick has been training. Besides, I think now that he's here, we're probably going to get things started pretty soon. Everyone is bored of eating and staring down each other."

So it was happening already. Rick had assumed it would be soon, but the unknown number of days spent among the immortals had been an uncomfortable variable in his plan. Hopefully everyone would be limited with all their fellow immortals watching, but he couldn't be sure if H wouldn't try one last scheme to capture him in the name of power.

Though the mansion looked large enough to house all the immortals' entourages, he didn't see any of them... except Alger stood on the roof, twirling his cane and looking down with a pleased expression.

Learning the truth had made Rick less concerned about H, but he shivered when he saw Alger. The strange man had been manipulating him for so long, even reaching into his dreams and toying with his deepest fears. And now he stood there, twirling his cane merrily as if he was having the time of his life. Rick impulsively tried to check the man's lucrim portfolio, but came up with absolutely nothing.

"I thought you'd run off!" James Travis emerged from the garden, smirking at Rick. "Guess you're not so much of a coward after all. Or did you find your confidence because you have the home field advantage in fly-over country just like this?"

Instead of responding, Rick just examined the suited man carefully. The insults didn't even touch him, but James did make him uneasy because he wasn't sure what the man actually wanted. Other than hating him for some reason, James didn't seem connected to the rest. He might be irrelevant, but he could also be a piece of the puzzle that Rick had entirely missed.

"You look like you've slacked off while you were away. Let's find out." With no more warning than that, James leapt forward, fingers flying in a stabbing movement.

Rick caught his wrist.

The force from the charge made him take a single step back, but he stopped all the rest of the charge's momentum. A shockwave from the rushing force swept past him a moment later, blowing his hair and clothes but otherwise having no impact. James's eyes widened and his entire body jerked back out of range, not that Rick had planned to attack him.

As if drawn by the strike, others were emerging from the mansion and surrounding grounds. He saw that the Siberian competitor looked impressed and the Nokan competitor watched impassively. Qing Shan was there along with her candidate, smiling as if she approved. James pulled his wrist back and rubbed it slightly, even though Rick hadn't applied any force.

Above the roof, Alger's smile only grew wider.

"Jolly good show!" Josiah Craw stood on a balcony on the third floor of the mansion, looking down at them. He wore outdated clothes that could just as easily be his best coats, leisure robes, or the equivalent of a stained t-shirt. "Now that you are all here, perhaps you can prevent yourselves from starting fights and ruining my grounds. My poor shrubberies..."

"Immortal Josiah." Qing Shan spoke quietly, but used some aura trick to amplify her voice. "I suggest that we move the day of the competition forward so that our youths may expend their energy in proper combat."

"An excellent suggestion, yes indeed! Tonight, please avail yourselves of my hospitality. Tomorrow morning when the cock crows, we shall do battle." Josiah smoothed down his mustaches, pleased with himself. "There shall be no crude brawling, no melee. No, I believe this should be decided with a tournament of single combat. With eight of you, a single elimination tournament shall be set up by lots. Good day!"

With that, he turned around and vanished into the mansion, leaving all the rest of them to eye one another. Rick thought that all eight candidates had appeared one way or another, but he didn't really care about them. Most likely, he would only fight one of them, chosen randomly.

Instead he looked toward the immortal's vacant balcony. Yes, it seemed entirely possible to him that Josiah Craw was a dupe in all this. If Alger could induce dreams and travel so easily across the world, influencing a lonely old immortal to serve as a proxy wouldn't be beyond his power.

Though servants came offering to take Rick's things, he declined and went to find a room on his own. There were servants everywhere, which made him uncomfortable. He supposed that he should be glad they weren't all black, though he could easily imagine Josiah grumbling about the American Civil Wars. Fortunately, he was soon left alone.

It seemed that everyone was allowed to ask the servants for anything, including any food they wanted, but Rick wasn't hungry. He was just about to begin scouting the mansion properly when H appeared in his doorway.

"Do you still have enough Formula T?" he asked. "You need to be at your best tomorrow."

"Still got more than enough." Rick gestured with an opaque thermos at his pack that only contained Lisa's serum. "But if this fight is really so important, maybe you could give me something a bit stronger?"

"A reasonable suggestion, though you'd better not waste it." H seemed to have been prepared for exactly that, because he handed Rick a thin aluminum can without markings. "Don't take this until the morning just before the fight. But not immediately before, because it will take you a while to get used to the kick."

"Thanks." Rick honestly smiled as he took it, though that became more difficult when he felt the tingle of the power pulling at him. He quickly set down the can on the table in his room. It didn't tempt him badly, but he looked forward to giving it to Lisa so it wouldn't be on his mind.

"Can I trust you not to get into any idiotic fights or otherwise cause problems in your last night before the tournament?"

"Absolutely. After everything I've been through, I just want to sleep."

Though H looked a little skeptical, eventually he grunted acceptance and left. Rick remained for a while, repositioning the can on his desk before he shoved it into a drawer. He'd put considerable effort into fighting with only his own power, so he wouldn't go back on his decision now.

Instead he investigated the mansion to prepare for the next step, which was the most uncomfortable part of his plan. He quickly ran into Raggest leaving his room, which was good timing. This time, he hit the younger man on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Raggest, can we talk?"

"About what?" Raggest tried to push past him, but stopped when Rick stayed in his path. "That Chinese fighter keeps insulting me, so we were going to settle things before the tournament."

"That's... never mind. We need to talk about Alger." Rick knew it was a huge risk to say anything, since he might tell Alger, but the younger man was something close to a friend. An innocent, oblivious friend. It would be wrong to just leave him. "He's just using you. If you don't believe me, look into the Formula T. It's made to addict you."

"Does it really matter? I'm going to keep taking it anyway." Raggest gave him a long look as if he was talking nonsense. "Besides, I'm not going to get addicted. If I do, I'll get over it. Are you getting cold feet, man?"

"Listen to me, dammit! Alger has been manipulating me and he's manipulating you too. He doesn't want what's best for you, and if you tr-"

Though he saw the blow coming, Rick was too startled to do anything more than brace against it. The fist struck his jaw and his head rocked back, unharmed but surprised. Raggest rubbed his knuckles and scowled. "Don't give me boring lectures, Rick. If you want to teach me a lesson, beat me in the tournament."

With that, he pushed past, tromping down into the house. Rick stayed in the hallway, rubbing his jaw and thinking. Before he came to any conclusions, he saw Raggest stomp out into the garden and confront the Chinese candidate.

Then he didn't really have a choice.

Rick headed to Raggest's room, trying to look casual and making sure there were no servants watching. His backpack felt heavy and suspicious, but he tried to ignore that. This was nerve-wracking as it was, but arguing with Raggest had proved pointless and he wouldn't feel right just leaving him. All that would convince him was direct proof.

Unsurprisingly, Raggest hadn't bothered to lock his door or secure any of his things. Most likely he'd spent almost his entire life controlled by Alger, avoiding any hardship except trials specifically designed as training. Rick was briefly paranoid that Alger might be watching, but didn't see any sign of anyone.

Soon he found the place where Raggest stored all his Formula T, then began carefully replacing all the contents. His backpack contained a few personal items, but almost all of it was the Formula T that Lisa had scrubbed of the addictive component. Without it, Raggest should slowly start feeling the effects of withdrawal and figure it out. After the tournament he'd start really feeling it, and perhaps even manage to escape Alger.

Lingering was a needless risk, so Rick headed back to his room. He laid back on his bed and just stared at the ceiling for a while. Part of him wanted to call Melissa just to talk to her, or to check if Lisa was in position, but it was better to leave them out of this. Katenka manifested briefly, but they only shared a nervous glance before she swirled away.

Tomorrow should go well, but there were too many variables. He still hadn't decided how exactly he intended to leave the competition. Simply stepping out of the ring to forfeit might anger immortals who would come after him, while throwing a fight or pretending to be injured could prove him a liar. There was also the possibility that H would be able to tell that he wasn't using the Formula T anymore - Lisa didn't think it would be possible, but Rick didn't want to underestimate his old mentor.

Regardless, it would be decided tomorrow.

~ ~ ~

Though Rick didn't remember falling asleep, he awoke to light across his face. He scrambled to sit up, wondering when the "cock's crow" was. When he emerged from his room, he found that some of the other fighters and immortals were still eating, so apparently not yet. More to calm himself than to prepare, Rick went through his exercises one last time.

He drank the vial of Melissa's void elixir and felt the empty clarity rush through his body. After that, he took his bike chip, the concentrated Formula T, and a handful of small items along with him in a secure pack. Everything else he left behind, possibly to abandon.

As the servants began to set up everything around the combat arena, Rick realized that he hadn't seen Raggest at all. Perhaps it would be best to talk to him again. If he'd missed a dose of the addictive component, he should be feeling just a little jittery, and perhaps he'd be more willing to listen. Since there might not be another chance to talk to him, he wanted to take the risk.

When he went to Raggest's room, a growing horror clawed through Rick. The younger man looked shellshocked, groaning and twisting on his bed. He'd smashed the table in his room into kindling and several empty bottles lay around the room.

"Rick... something's wrong..." Raggest clawed his way up, tearing through part of the bed. "I'm so thirsty... and so weak... what's happening to me?"

"Raggest, listen to me." Rick looked around for listeners, took a deep breath, and spoke as clearly as he could. "This is exactly what I was saying about Alger. He wants to own you. The elixirs he's been feeding you were all designed to be addictive, so you can't fight without them."

"What?" Raggest stared at him with bloodshot eyes, actually listening this time. He tried to take a step forward but tripped, only keeping himself up by grasping Rick's shirt. "But the... the elixirs make me stronger... I can feel it..."

"I'm telling you this for your own good." Rick realized that he sounded condescending, but he had to get through Raggest's skull. "Alger is using you. Even when you think you're sneaking out, he's set up everything in your life. Do you really think that it's normal for you to run into something special or legendary every time you go for training?"

"You... you're just jealous..." Raggest's fingers gripped his shirt with strength born of withdrawal. "Good things come to those who work. You're not bad, but... you're not me..."

"Raggest... look, it's up to you what you want to believe. But I hope you can make it through this." With that, Rick forcibly pulled off the other man's hand and stepped away. "I hope to see you again when neither of us is under Alger's control."

In response, Raggest simply groaned and curled up against the side of the bed. Rick realized just how much he had underestimated the effect of withdrawal, either because Raggest was more addicted or because he took the symptoms harder. It made him regret trying to reach the younger man, but he didn't see what else he could do. When he tried to help Raggest up, his hand was knocked away.

All he could do was walk down to the combat arena and end things.

When he arrived, he found that most of the others were already waiting. Instead of anything so pedestrian as stands, there were thrones set up around the octagon, one block for a faction on each side. He noted that Alger was sitting alone, looking bored and irritable. James Travis sat with a pair of immortals Rick didn't recognize at all. Qing Shan made eye contact with him, but he couldn't see what message she meant to impart.

Everyone looked at him as he arrived... and their eyes remained on him. Rick was puzzled until he realized that Josiah Craw wasn't simply standing in the center of the arena for no reason. There was a screen of lucrim showing the tournament brackets, and as Rick walked to get a better angle, he had a feeling he knew what he would see.

The first fight was him against Raggest.