“I have to get to my people.”
“Be patient, John Sheppard,” Mara said. She pulled gently free of his grip. “I will take you to where they are being held, but we have to give Saul and his men time to clear out. It’s normal for citizens to wander through the holding cells and study the combatants. We can join the others and you’ll have a chance to speak to your people. If we go rushing out there, there is no guarantee that Saul won’t lock you, and possibly me, up with the others, just to preserve his plan. I will get you down to them. I don’t know what good it’s going to do, but I can do that for you.”
“Thank you,” Sheppard said.
Mara stopped and turned, and he all but slammed into her. She wrapped him in her arms. “There are many of my people here,” she said, “but I have felt alone for a very long time. No one that I speak with, or drink with, or spend time with captivates me. I have felt as though I were dying inside, very slowly, for many years. When he first suggested it, Saul’s plan did not seem a bad one to me because I knew that it would bring an end to this ennui — this horrible, cloying boredom.
“Now there is you. When you and the other members of your team entered the room last night, I felt as if I’d woken from a very long sleep. We have had visitors before, but none of them called to me.”
Sheppard held her for a moment, and then pulled back. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “This place — this life — doesn’t have to be the last thing you experience before you die. Come with us. I don’t know how we’ll do it, but we are going to get off of this moon — my people will make it happen. Saul’s wrong, there’s much more to life than what you’ve experienced here. I think you’ve all just forgotten.”
“You may be right,” she said. “But I don’t know if I could start over. No matter how bad it has gotten, this is home — has always been home. So long…”
Her words trailed off. She glanced up at him again, wistfully, but she didn’t try to hold him again. “I was sort of hoping you’d be my final fling — that good thing to drive me over the edge into oblivion smiling. I know that must make me seem very shallow.”
“Yeah…I kind of figured that was what you had in mind,” Sheppard said. “The thing is, being held prisoner on a moon hurtling into a sun while my friends are forced to fight monsters against their will kind of drains the romance from me. It’s not that I’m not attracted.”
Mara dropped her eyes to the floor. “We’ll go to my quarters and have a drink. By the time we’re finished we should be able to get down to the holding cells and your people. If there is anything I can do to help you, I will. The more I think about how Saul has made so many decisions for me, the more I think — the last entertainment of one’s life should be something of their own choosing. If I anger him, maybe he’ll put me in the arena.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
The words hung in the air between them for a moment, and then Mara turned and led the way back to her quarters. Moments later they disappeared inside.
About an hour later, the two made their way back down the same hall, but turned off toward the arena. Sheppard had changed out of his uniform at Mara’s insistence. Neither of them believed Saul would buy that he’d converted so quickly, but it was important to appear to play along, just the same. Anything they could do that bought them time was worth the attempt.
He wore loose fitting pants of a soft, dark material, and a pullover shirt. The shirt was slightly large — he had insisted on wearing his equipment beneath it. When they stepped into the hallway, Mara giggled and hung on his arm like a love struck schoolgirl, and Sheppard played along. He drew her close so she leaned on his shoulder, and the two wove a bit as they walked to give the impression they’d had too much to drink.
They turned into the downward sloping passageway and followed the path the others had been led down earlier. There were a few other citizens lingering in the passageway, laughing and talking, and laying early bets on the night’s combat.
“The large one with the long hair,” one man said, “will put up a fight. He has the look of a warrior.”
“What would you know Danin?” the woman standing beside him said, laughing derisively. “You haven’t seen a real warrior in so long you wouldn’t know one if you saw him.”
“I know plenty,” Danin replied. “It’s in his eyes. And I’ve seen Alden Zane, the same as you have. There are plenty of warriors on Admah.”
Sheppard and Mara passed through the others as quickly as they could. Mara was forced to stop several times to introduce him to friends and acquaintances. One tall, dark haired man tipped his glass at Sheppard and nodded.
“I’m disappointed,” he said. “I had the feeling that you’d be in the arena tonight, and I was looking forward to it. Several of my friends and I have decided that, despite the fact you are not as large as some of your companions, if given the opportunity you’d acquit yourself well.”
“It didn’t seem the best use of my time,” Sheppard replied. “They probably have room for you though. Maybe we should see if they have armor in your size?”
The man frowned. He was about to say something more, but Mara burst out laughing and fell across Sheppard’s shoulder.
“I can see it now,” she said. “We can all go in there, wave our drinks at whatever adversary they send after us, and ask it how it likes the odds on the next fight. If we are truly lucky, we will wave one of the weapons at it, and it will charge, impaling itself and ending the fight in victory!”
They all stared at her, and then the dark haired man grinned. “I think you have started your celebration sooner than usual,” he said. “I hope the two of you will join us tonight?”
The woman who stood at his side was tall, thin, and had the most utterly bored expression on her face Sheppard had ever seen. Her clothing clung to her, and she was a very attractive woman, but every bit of passion had drained from her — maybe years in the past. She didn’t even pretend to pay attention to the conversation. Instead she stared off down the passageway toward the arena.
“Looks like that would be a bundle of laughs,” Sheppard said.
Mara pulled him away and started down the passageway again. The man stared after them, but the woman never acknowledged they’d been there at all.
“Friendly folks,” Sheppard observed.
“The only thing they care about is the entertainment,” Mara said. “They barely speak to one another, and she never speaks to anyone else. I have the feeling that, as far as they are concerned, tonight is too long to wait for it all to come to an end. It’s possible that the world will end, and she’ll never notice. She has been gone for years.”
They reached the room at the bottom of the passageway, and Mara turned him to the right.
“We need to examine all of the combatants,” she said. “Going straight to your people will draw attention, and if he locks you up with the others, you won’t have much chance of freeing them later.”
Sheppard nodded. He scanned the room and the various doors, then turned and stared at the huge arena entrance. They turned and started down the line of doors slowly. Mara pressed a button by the first door. It slid open — beams of energy criss-crossed the open frame, but they could see into the interior clearly.
“This is Balleth,” Mara said.
The man in the cell stood nearly seven feet tall. He wore leather boots, a dark, coarse tunic, and leather bands around his biceps. His hair was dark, and his eyes were darker. He glared out at them defiantly, but didn’t speak. He stood as if he were used to being studied and examined. He had obviously been in this position before.