“I am not accustomed to making mistakes,” Rikki remarked.
“I wish I could say that,” Blade said.
“Shut up!” one of their escorts barked. “Both of you!”
Ten Sharks were taking the Warriors to a meeting with Tiger. They had arrived at the cell minutes ago and announced that Tiger wanted the prisoners brought before him. The Sharks had prudently bound the Warriors and removed Blade’s Bowies. Four of the Sharks were walking in front of Blade, the rest behind Rikki. Six of the ten carried rifles.
Tiger wasn’t taking any chances.
Despite his predicament, Blade marveled at the outstanding artwork they passed in the corridors.
They climbed a short flight of stairs and entered an enormous chamber.
In contrast to all of the other rooms in the museum, this chamber was devoid of artistic masterpieces. It was filled with Sharks, standing room only. They were jammed into a compact mass surrounding a cleared space in the center. At the sight of the Warriors, the conversation level rose.
“Make way!” the head of the escort bellowed.
The throng parted to permit the escort to pass.
Tiger was awaiting them in the middle of the chamber.
his hands on his hips, a smile on his lips. To his right was Gar, to his left Fab, both bearing their shotguns. Fab also wore Rikki’s katana, the scabbard angled under her belt above her left hip.
“Welcome, contestants!” Tiger called out.
As they emerged from the crowd, Blade spied the arrangement behind Tiger and the twins. A long, narrow wooden rail had been positioned horizontally on stout upright posts. Under the 20-foot rail, and on all sides, projecting upward from the tiled floor, were dozens and dozens of sharp metal spikes.
Tiger scanned the Sharks. “Are you ready for a little excitement?”
“Yes!” they chorused back.
Tiger grinned at Blade. “I trust you will not disappoint them. Try to put on a good show.”
Blade nodded at the rail and the spikes. “What is this?”
Tiger chuckled. “I told you I need a workout. This is how I exercise, how I keep my reflexes at their peak.”
“What does all of this have to do with us?” Blade asked.
“Everything,” Tiger said. “You or your friend will be the featured attraction.”
“Doing what?” Blade inquired.
Tiger smirked. “Staying alive, I’d imagine.” He pointed at the rail. “Do you know what that is?”
“No,” Blade admitted.
“That’s a balance beam,” Tiger disclosed. “The exact kind they used before the war. You or your friend will be on the balance beam with me.
The object is to walk from one end to the other without falling off. One of us will, and one of us won’t.”
Blade stared at the spikes under the beam and encircling it. Some of those spikes were a foot in length, others slightly shorter.
Tiger gazed in the same direction. “Those spikes were extremely difficult for our metalworkers to construct. Imbedding them in the floor was nearly as hard.”
Blade looked at the Shark leader. “Don’t go through with this,” he warned.
“Why not?”
“You might die,” Blade said.
Tiger threw back his head and laughed. “I might die? Your fear is showing, Blade!”
Rikki glanced at the beam, then at Blade. “Permit me.”
“No,” Blade said.
“I am smaller,” Rikki stated.
“So?”
“My feet are much smaller than yours,” Rikki noted. “To me, walking on the beam will be like walking on a fallen tree. To you, it will be like walking on a toothpick. I am more likely to retain my footing.”
“I’ll do it,” Blade insisted.
Tiger leaned toward them. “Gentlemen! Please! This argument is unnecessary. Each of you will have the opportunity to show your prowess on the beam. One of you will try with me tonight, the other at a later date.”
“I will do it,” Blade declared.
Tiger shrugged. “Suit yourself. Personally, I was hoping you would be the one.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Blade extended his arms. “Am I supposed to do this with my wrists tied?”
“Not at all,” Tiger said. “I said I would be fair.” He stared at the burly head of the escort. “Untie him.”
Rikki held his wrists up. “What about me?”
“What about you?” Tiger retorted. “Your wrists stay tied.”
Fabiana frowned.
Blade studied the balance beam as the burly Shark untied him. When his wrists were free he rubbed them to fully restore his circulation.
“Any questions?” Tiger asked the Warrior.
“What are the rules?” Blade queried.
“Rules?” Tiger repeated, and laughed. “There are no rules. The contest is simple. You climb on one end of the balance beam, I climb on the other.
The first one to reach the opposite end alive wins.”
“There’s not enough room for us to pass each other without falling off,” Blade mentioned.
Tiger smirked. “Acute, aren’t you? You are permitted to do whatever is necessary to get past your opponent.”
“And the one who falls off lands on the spikes,” Blade commented.
“Exactly,” Tiger stated. “Only one of us will win. Only one of us will be alive when it’s all over.”
Blade looked at the Shark leader. “Whose warped idea was this? Yours?”
Tiger did a mock bow. “I claim all the credit. After I became leader, after I had silenced all my opposition. I became bored with the routine.
Without stimulation, without challenges, even a superior man languishes.”
“How many have you murdered on this thing?” Blade asked.
“I don’t murder anyone,” Tiger responded testily. “Everyone has a fair chance.” He paused, chuckling. “Of course, my reflexes and sense of balance are superb. Nature’s gifts, you might say. And I am not to blame if others are not so gifted.”
“You didn’t answer me,” Blade pressed the Shark. “How many have you… killed on this beam of yours?”
Tiger shrugged. “Who keeps count? Two or three dozen, I’d estimate.”
Blade stared into Tiger’s eyes. “Your reign of abuse and murder ends here and now.”
“Ohhhh! I’m trembling in my boots!” Tiger said mockingly.
Blade took a step toward the balance beam. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Hold it,” Tiger said. “Don’t you want your Bowies?”
“I get to use my Bowies?” Blade asked in disbelief.
Tiger nodding, glancing at the burly Shark. “Cover him. Then give him his knives.”
Five Sharks trained their rifles on the Warrior.
The burly Shark walked over to the man who had carried the Bowies from the cell, took them, and returned the knives to the giant.
Blade hefted his prized Bowies, smiling. “You just made a mistake,” he said to Tiger.
“Did I?” Tiger rejoined. His hands disappeared behind his back, and when they reappeared a moment later he held a gleaming dagger in each palm.
“Good,” Blade said. “I want this to be fair too.”
Tiger turned toward the assembled Sharks. “Are you ready?” he yelled.
“Yes!” they thundered.
“Then let the contest commence!” Tiger shouted. He nodded at Blade, then threaded a path between the spikes to the far end of the balance beam.
Blade wondered how the Shark leader would mount the beam. The top of the balance beam was about five feet off the floor.
Tiger paused, deposited his daggers on the beam, and quickly removed his boots and socks. He picked up the gold-handled daggers, took one step backwards from the end of the beam, then gave a little hop and a jump, placing his closed hands on the edge of the beam for support, the dagger blades pointing outward.