They were quicker and more agile and had the fearless heart of youngsters who thought themselves invincible. Over the years, Rhino had seen hundreds of Felipes perish in the wastes for that very reason.
“Fall in line,” Rhino said.
“Fuck you.”
Rhino swung a left hook, but the boy easily ducked the blow. He then jumped into the air and kicked Rhino in the chest. The force of the blow knocked him backward, but he quickly regained his balance.
Laughter erupted all around as the recruits fanned out in a circle to watch the fight.
The Cazador veterans moved in, but Rhino shook his head. He tossed his spear to one of them, then unbuckled his chest armor. He let it clank to the deck and quickly shucked off the rest of his armor.
Vargas, who Rhino had expected to challenge him long before someone like Felipe, had moved out of the command center and stood at the railing, looking down.
Felipe smiled as he bobbed and weaved, throwing punches like an old-world boxer.
Cocky little shit…
Whale would be ashamed, and now Rhino was going to teach the kid to respect the old-fashioned way.
Felipe strode forward and threw a punch that Rhino allowed to land on his clenched jaw. The crack was audible, but Rhino just laughed and spat on the deck.
Several voices broke out around them.
Rhino feinted with his right, then threw a left uppercut that caught his opponent under the chin, knocking him to the deck.
The kid got up faster than Rhino had expected. Now it was Felipe spitting blood. He wiped a smear off his face.
Rhino moved in to finish the fight, but the younger warrior jumped and kicked at his face. Raising an arm, Rhino deflected the blow.
Felipe moved quickly to flank him, but Rhino went low and threw an elbow, narrowly missing Felipe’s ribs. He kicked Rhino in the back of the knee hard enough to bring him down on his other knee.
A kick to the back of the head nearly knocked Rhino to the deck.
Head spinning, he staggered to his feet.
The onlookers went wild, but Rhino ignored them. Felipe was dancing again, moving quickly, and for a fleeting moment, Rhino worried that he might lose this fight.
If he did, he was doomed. No one would follow him into battle.
He needed just one well-timed blow to knock the kid on his ass, where he belonged.
Felipe came at him again, kicking air. Rhino hammered down on his thigh, stuffing the kick, and threw a roundhouse punch, which Felipe ducked.
A golden rind of sun peeked over the horizon, making Rhino squint. In that instant, he took a blow to the diaphragm, knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped for air, and Felipe moved in.
That was his mistake.
Rhino was not as shaken as he looked, and as Felipe cocked his leg for another flashy jump kick, Rhino strode forward and threw a punch that caught him in the ribs.
The blow sent the young man flying. He hit the deck hard and stayed there.
Rhino loomed over him, chest heaving. When he looked up at the railing, Vargas had folded his arms across his chest.
“You want to dance, too?” Rhino shouted up.
Vargas flashed his sharp teeth.
The crowd quieted, and a sergeant brought the spear over. Rhino took it and held the tip to Felipe’s throat. Blinking, the boy tried to move, then gave it up and settled on his back.
“I didn’t get your dad killed,” Rhino said. “But if you don’t shape up, you’re going to follow in his footsteps.”
Felipe bared his sharp teeth as Rhino pressed the edge just enough to draw blood. Then he pulled the spear back, twirled it, and said, “You have to decide. Will you fight and die with honor like your old man, or keep being a shithead until it gets you killed?”
Rhino let Felipe think on it a moment and then reached down. After a moment of indecision, Felipe grabbed the offered hand.
“Good choice. You will do much better as a warrior if you learn from your mistakes.” He hauled the boy up onto his feet, gave him a good hard pat on the back, and pushed him back into the crowd.
The recruits had stopped watching Rhino and Felipe. Some of them were pointing at the sky. Rhino squinted at a green glow descending toward the ship. The light trailed a Hell Diver in free fall.
A parachute blossomed and began to spiral gently down toward the deck.
“¡Viene el rey Xavier!” Rhino yelled, repeating it in English. “Here comes King Xavier!”
Everyone fell into orderly rank and file, including Felipe.
Rhino walked over to greet his friend and their ruler as X touched down gracefully on the deck. He quickly released his chute, grabbed it up, and stuffed it back into the pack. Then he took off his helmet and walked to the assembled recruits.
Many of the youthful faces eyed X suspiciously. Rhino knew what they were thinking: How could this old man have killed el Pulpo? Many of them probably thought it was luck, but Rhino knew better. Scanning faces, he noticed several gazes locked on the new king, showing the same anger and bloodlust that he had seen in Felipe a few minutes ago.
Before long, Rhino wouldn’t be the only one with a challenger.
The question was how challengers would go about trying to take X down. Would they come at him like the assassination squad that had come after Rhino years ago, or would they challenge him to a match, as Felipe had just done?
Time would tell, but Rhino knew one thing for certain: King Xavier Rodriguez didn’t need luck to fight his enemies. He had the heart of a lion, the skills of a seasoned warrior, and, when he needed it, the ferocity of a shark.
The fool who challenged him would be the one needing the luck.
FIVE
“How’d the dive go?” Rhino asked.
He and X stood on the platform outside the ship’s command center. The sun glinted off the windows, but storm clouds were moving into the clear skies to the east.
“It could have been a lot worse,” said X, “considering that one of the divers jumped ship and tried to get himself and a team killed.”
“Is Sofia…”
“Fine.”
Rhino wiped a drop of blood away from his eye.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough morning, too,” X said. “Figured I’d stop by since I was in the area. Show the fresh meat what a Hell Diver looks like up close and in person.”
They watched the new warriors on the deck of Elysium. The veterans had started to move the recruits into groups based on their size and age. Eventually, they would be judged on their fighting ability before being placed on a team and, finally, in a platoon.
X looked out over the youngsters, picking out the weaklings and the showboats. The group had more than a few Ted Maturos.
He was still shocked at the kid’s stunt. After Ted regained consciousness, the team leaders had given him a serious ass-chewing, stripped him of his armor, and reassigned him to his new job: mucking out the livestock pens for the next month.
“Soon, they will be tested, like your divers,” Rhino said of the trainees below.
“Not too soon, let’s hope. Looks like some of them are just kids.”
“They’re all of age, and this is part of their culture,” Rhino said. “When they complete the first round of training, we’ll weigh anchor and set off for the proving grounds, where mutant beasts and poisonous flora will test their skills.”
“What doesn’t kill them makes them stronger, eh?” The adage was generally true for Hell Divers, too.
“Most of them already know how to fight, as you may have noticed with Felipe on your way down,” Rhino said. “Now we figure out who the real warriors are.”
The distant roll of thunder drew their eyes east, where lightning flickered from the dark base of a towering cloud bank.