In an alternate dimension to ours exists a world, in some ways very similar to Earth (in others, quite different), named Georwell. Georwell is the capital planet of a small interstellar empire, the Georwell Imperium. Though the Imperium comprises many species, it is ruled by humans. Our story begins in the megalopolis of Martel, a sprawling city that almost entirely covers First Continent on Georwell the planet. The Imperium is ruled from the District of the Council (DC) in Martel, and in DC is the Citadel of Justice, the headquarters and fortress of the famed Justice Machine, revered Heroes of the Imperium. 5 paragons who embody the ideals which are the birthright of every Citizen of the realm. 5 good little soldiers who always do what's right.

In the depths of the Citadel of Justice, two of these mighty champions prepare for their next hazardous challenge.

A solidly-built man with long straight black hair and a mustache, his hair held back from his face by a brown headband, in a blue body suit that leaves his chest bare, set off by red gloves and thigh-high red leather boots. Emblazoned in yellow on the thigh of each boot is a stylized icon, a slightly sinister horned head, letting everyone know that this is the deadly martial artist, the Demon, self-styled fastest man on three worlds.

A taller, lanky man, with longish well groomed dark brown hair and a flawlessly-trimmed van dyke beard and mustache, wearing a very expensive, impeccably tailored dark blue suit. This is Talisman, the newest, most enigmatic member of the Justice Machine.

*****

Demon had just finished cleaning up after a workout and was headed to dinner when Talisman hurried to catch up with him in the corridor leading to the mess hall.

"Hey, Gabel! I finally satisfied Challenger and got off extra-duty assignments." Talisman said to his teammate with a smug grin. Demon couldn't let it go at that.

"You're dreaming, Talisman. I saw today's report; you failed hand-to-hand. again. Zarren interrupted the bossman before he could issue the extra training order, and he must have forgotten. It must be tough losing your mind when you get that old." he pretended sympathy with Challenger's aging problems. "I guess I'd better go remind him."

"C'mon, Gabel, you wouldn't do that to a buddy, would you?" Talisman wheedled as his face fell. "I haven't even been outside the Citadel since we got back from Zamyatin. And we were penned up on the Indefeasible for almost a month before that!"

The Justice Machine had recently returned from a mission to a secret military base in a dome on the gas giant planet of Zamyatin. The dome had been even more cramped than the starship that had transported them, and going outside the dome in environment suits into a deadly ultra-high-pressure atmosphere whipped by hurricane-force winds, with gravity almost 3 times normal and the temperature about 200 degrees below freezing hadn't provided any relief.

"If you promise never to call me 'buddy' again, I'll let it go."

"What a pal! Say, I heard a lot of stories about a grey casino over in Vanguard City. The best games, the best booze and drugs, the best food - first class all the way!" Grey indicated an establishment run by an underworld figure, who lavishly paid off the local authorities in order to operate openly. This put the local Terror Troopers on the side of the establishment, which meant that local residents rarely complained, and never more than once!

"What about the women?" Demon asked. "I'm not interested in food or games!"

"All citizen-approved!" Talisman responded enthusiastically. Georwellian slang for `Nothing but the best`. "Let's get moving before Challenger catches up with me!"

"What's wrong with the Mystic Pyramid right here in Martel? We could be there in a half hour. It'll take us a couple hours on the ballistic shuttle to reach Vanguard City."

Talisman wasn't welcome in any club in Martel, especially the Mystic Pyramid operated by Dulcachan! He didn't think Demon needed to know this. "I'll order us a hyper" one of the Justice Machine's hypersonic fliers, which were always standing ready at the Citadel of Justice "and we can be there in under 15 minutes". Vanguard City was over 4000 miles away, across the Torrentic Ocean on the Third Continent, but a hyper could reach any spot on the planet in a half hour.

"You'll be in the crapper with Challenger when we get back for hacking into the Citadel computer system" Demon warned. Actually, the opportunity to piss off Challenger, and see Talisman in deep shit, sealed the deal for him.

"When am I not in the crapper around here?" Talisman wondered philosophically. "Can we hurry? Even my luck can't keep Challenger away forever!"

*****

"Triune Crap!" Demon staggered out of the hypersonic into the top-floor hanger of the Play the Edge casino. "You almost killed me!" He retched. His face was greenish and he had to lean against the wall just to stay on his feet. "Next time. gasp. we borrow one of. the duty pilots instead of. gasp. letting you reprogram the autopilot!"

"Who knew you had such a weak stomach?" Talisman crowed. "We were only in the air for " he paused, and looked at his watch dramatically " 13 minutes and 14 seconds." They'd come over 4,000 miles in that time, and even with the most advanced inertial dampeners provided by Imperium science, it had been a rough ride - for Demon, at least. "You should take one of these " he held out a pill " prevents nausea. Actually." he sounded apologetic "you really should have had one before we left."

Demon grabbed the pill and instantly dry swallowed it, before his stomach could roll over again. "You don't have to worry about Challenger." he tried to snarl, but it came out as a squeak. "I'll kill you myself, as soon as I feel better!"

Suddenly, he looked like a bomb had gone off in his stomach. His face expanded and his eyes opened wider than anything Talisman had ever seen before, his cheeks bulged out - and it passed.

"Wow! What was that stuff?" Instantly, Demon felt much better, although still very weak.

"Underworld secret, pal!" Talisman laughed heartily. "I sure wish I had a picture of that!"

Demon took a swing at him, but he was still slow, and missed by a mile. "I told you never to call me 'pal' again."

"You said 'buddy'" Talisman complained as he ducked. "You distinctly said `buddy'. The security tape will prove it."

"This better be a damn good club!" Demon replied, as they entered the elevator to the lobby.

*****

"I wish you'd taken the time to put some clothes on." Talisman complained to his teammate on the elevator. "I was hoping to be inconspicuous"

"You don't have to worry about that, `pal'. With me around, nobody will even notice you!" Demon stood up straight and stuck his chest out. "Why hide. this? You watch, the women will be all over me!"

"Man, now I need one of those nausea pills." Talisman groaned. Demon glared at him, but at just that second, the door slide open, letting in the sounds of the club.

*****

In a darkened room not far away, a dozen beings watched scenes flicker across the screens of a hundred video monitors. One of the watchers pressed a couple of buttons, then called the floor boss. The image from the elevator flicked from a small monitor on the console to a much larger monitor on the wall, and the security computer superimposed written information and targeting circles on the images of the men on the elevator.

"Solly! We got us a problem. Them two guys are from the Justice Machine - Demon and the new guy, what-is-name. Computer's locked on `em now."

"So, dat's Demon, huh? Kind of a pretty boy, ain't he? He sure don't look dat tough." Solly had been a noted brawler when he was younger, and he never let his crew forget it. But he knew his job, too. "I better let da Boss know. Sorta suspicious, dem showing up t'night of all nights, eh?" He moved off towards a communication console. "Keep the big screen locked on `em, Durble, while I tell da Boss."

*****

The elevator exited into a recessed niche in a large luxurious lobby. Artful placement of marble columns, large plants, plush furniture and free-standing sculptures broke the room up into many smaller, more intimate spaces. The floor was brightly polished marble, dotted with deep-pile area rungs. The marble walls sported fantastic artwork. The wealth required to furnish and decorate this room was stunning! There were a lot of people standing, sitting or lounging in the various spaces, though the room's design was such that it didn't feel crowded. Barely costumed attendants mingled with the crowd, providing food, drinks, and pharmaceuticals.

"This is just the kind of place where I feel comfortable." Talisman said. "Almost like they designed it with me in mind."

"Oh, yeah!" Demon agreed enthusiastically, his eyes wandering over the many attractive women. He couldn't help staring at one particular attendant, an almost-human catgirl, as tall as he was, with a lithe figure, covered with short calico fur. She wore a micro-miniskirt and lace-up vest that barely concealed her 4 breasts - which must have been surgically enhanced. She had a prehensile tail and was very social, using her tail to casually caress her customers as she served them.

A beautiful black women in a floor length gown, low cut in front and back, so white it almost glowed, glided gracefully across the floor and extended her hand. "Mr. Nevin," Demon shook her hand. She turned "Mr. Talisman. I'm Nautique, the hostess." Talisman took her hand, bowed, and brushed his lips across her fingers. "I'm enchanted, my dear." A pleased expression flashed across her face. She gently squeezed his hand before releasing it.

"Welcome to Play the Edge, gentlemen. It's a rare honor to host members of the Justice Machine." She smiled broadly; her teeth were as white as her gown.

`I'll bet its rare - like, never happened before!' Talisman thought to himself. He couldn't see Challenger, Diviner or Titan ever coming to a place like this. `And, since she knows who we are, it's probably the only bet I'll get to make all night.'

He was right. "Mr. Talisman, I apologize, but the game rooms aren't available to you. I'm afraid your reputation proceeds you." She turned to the catgirl Demon was watching and snapped her fingers. "Dusk!" She turned back to heroes. "But Dusk will guide you through the rest of the club. Play the Edge has much more to offer than just gambling." For the briefest instant, a puzzled expression flashed across her face. "Excuse me, just a moment." She floated gracefully towards a privacy nook and activated the nook's silent shield. She could still be seen, but no one outside the nook could hear what she might be saying.

"Can I ssstart you gentlemennnn with ssssomething to drink?" Dusk purred. Demon found her soft, throaty voice even more sensual than her appearance.

"Euvian Stout" Euve was a large, mountainous island far from any continent, whose remote location had saved it from being subsumed by one of the giant cities that submerged each of the three continents.. Euvian Stout was legendary among the citizens of Georwell, though it was so expensive that few people outside of Euve actually ever tasted it. Dusk winked her approval and turned to Talisman. With her back to Demon, her tail, seemingly with a mind of its own, wrapped gently around one of his ankles.

"Do you have Quialmian Champagne?" Talisman asked, a very elegant, expensive beverage imported from off-planet. "Bring me two flutes, please. Perhaps Nautique will join us." Dusk hurried away, her tail brushing Talisman as she passed him.

"You're buying a drink for the hostess? What are you, nuts?" Demon demanded.

"I think she likes me, Gabel!" Talisman replied, turning to watch Nautique as she spoke with someone via her mopec (mobile personal computicator, the Georwellian equivalent of a cell phone).

"You've got the same chance with her as I have with Diviner!" Nevin responded scornfully. "She's paid to make you think that."

"It's more than that!" Talisman insisted.

"By the way, how are we paying for this?" Demon wanted to know. "I don't think Challenger pays us enough to even cover the drinks!"

"Don't worry - I tapped one of the Justice Machine's discretionary accounts and tied it to our JM ID cards for the night. We're flush."

Dusk arrived with their drinks; Demon noticed she'd brought one for herself as well. Nautique returned a couple of seconds later, and her body language indicated that she wasn't too happy. Talisman held out the second flute of champagne. "Join us for a drink? Quialmian Champagne."

"Thanks" She accepted the drink and took an appreciative sip. "Normally I couldn't - I'm not allowed to drink with guests while I'm on duty. But somebody messed up tonight's schedule, and it's Wendaekyn's night." She pointed to an extremely beautiful woman who might have been her negative twin: almost an albino complexion, with bright red hair, wearing a black gown. Somehow, while Nautique projected warmth and friendliness, Wendaekyn projected aloofness. "Even though I've got seniority, she's sleeping with the Boss."

"Always the way, isn't it?" Talisman sympathized. "Would you care to join us for dinner?" he asked graciously. Demon was surprised; he'd never known his teammate to be other than a jerk.

"Why not? Suddenly I'm free this evening. Shall we?" She took Talisman's arm.

"A fortunate coincidence. What a surprise!" He didn't look at all surprised as he smirked at Demon, then let Nautique guide him towards the dining room. Demon shrugged, then imitated his teammate and offered his arm to Dusk. She took his arm, and her tail wrapped around it as well.

Neither hero was paying much attention to the club's other customers as the foursome left the lobby. But they were noticed - or at least one of them was. As they passed a quiet conversation niche, a poorly groomed, rather beat up looking young man wearing an expensive suit that was much too large for him did a classic double-take as he saw Talisman. He leaped from his seat, knocking down the attendant who had been bringing drinks to his group. "Clumsy logi!" he cussed as he kicked the man in the head. "You buying dose drinks, not us!" He rushed into a privacy nook and placed a mopec call.

"Mugga, it's Manse." Manse was a member of the KrunKs street gang in Martel, spending the loot (and wearing a suit) he'd stolen in a recent caper, and Mugga was the highest ranking KrunK Lord he knew. "I'm inna Play t'Edge club inna Torn'tic Distrik of Vanguard City. Tat guy Talisman we's lookin' for? He's here!"

There was a grunt of satisfaction from the other end, then silence. Manse hung up. "Whatta lucky break!" he congratulated himself.

*****

This was the first time that Demon and Talisman had appeared in public for personal reasons since joining the Machine, and they were surprised by the reaction they generated. As they entered the large, crowded, noisy main dining room, a hush developed, spreading slowly away from them as people turned to stare. As they walked towards their table, the murmur of conversation slowly started up again, though they remained surrounded by a moving bubble of silence.

"The last club I was in, they threw me out!" Talisman commented, a big smile on his face. He was definitely enjoying being recognized.

"Why Mr. Talissssmannnn" hissed Dusk. "who could everrrr think of sssssuch a thing?"

Demon was less comfortable with the public reaction than he'd anticipated, and was happy to have a chance for a wisecrack. "Only everyone who knows him, babe!" he chuckled.

As they sat, Talisman noticed a large group at a table nearby hastily leaving. He looked more closely, and realized that they were leaving their meals largely untouched. He turned to Nautique. "What jerks! Do we smell or something?"

She was apologetic. "You surely understand that not all of our clients will be comfortable around members of the most elite law enforcement team in the Imperium?" Talisman found this charming; no one had ever referred to him as `elite' before.

Before they had placed their order, the room was at least a third empty, and Demon had noticed several groups which had entered the room, spotted them, then turned and left. His annoyance at this was offset by the number of admiring glances he got from the remaining female patrons. If he hadn't been with Dusk, he was sure he could have had his choice of any woman in the room.

As it was, the sexy catgirl was hanging on his every word. She seemed to find his stories about fighting, and in particular, his own battle skills, especially fascinating. Fine with him; he had a lot of those! "Prosecutor Zarren knows that Challenger's getting too old to be effective, so he recruited me to take his place as leader of the Justice Machine. I just hope the old man has the sense to get out before he gets hurt or killed!"

Her eyes got wide at that. "The nexxxxt leaderrrrrr of the Jussssticccce Machhhhhhine! You musssst beeee a grrrrrreat fighterrrrr!"

"The best" he said modestly. He glared at Talisman, who might have been just about to mention Demon's recent encounters with Lionheart and the two Challengers. Fortunately for one of the heroes (you decide which one!) Nautique joined the conversation.

"Talisman, why were you asked to join the Justice Machine? Demon and Challenger are great fighters, Titan can grow to giant size, and Diviner has her super senses, but what does a reformed gambler and con man, regardless of your undeniable charm and considerable style, bring to a group of government heroes?"

"Funny you should ask that!" Demon chimed in. "The rest of us wonder about that too - all the time!"

"Shut up, Demon!" Talisman said. He wasn't surprised that Nautique didn't know about his power. Challenger insisted it would be more effective if their enemies didn't expect it. Well, he wasn't going to give anything away. "Frankly, though Challenger is still one of the most knowledgeable computer experts alive, his knowledge is getting out of date. Prosecutor Zarren wanted someone younger with better knowledge of the more current developments in computers and cybernetics. And since I joined, Challenger has realized that I'm a superb tactician, and he's come to rely on my advice in all our battles. It was my tactics that defeated the Boogers on Zamyatin!"

Demon coughed, then changed the subject. "Nautique, you mentioned that Play the Edge has more to offer than just the casino?"

"If I can't get into the casino, is there anything else I can bet on?" Talisman added, wistfully. Any place his power could enhance the odds in his favor.

"I think we have something both of you will enjoy" she responded. "We have some cage fighting tonight. It always draws a large crowd, and the betting is always heavy."

"I rrrrrreally love watchhhhing!" Dusk purred before the heroes could respond.

Demon laughed. "Cage fighting it is! Maybe Talisman will learn something."

*****

As Nautique led them down a corridor, they could hear crowd noises, growing louder. As they got closer, they realized it didn't sound like the kind of noises they would expect to hear from the gallery of a fighting arena - instead of screaming and cheering there was a lot of booing and moaning.

"I've never seen a cage match where the crowd booed!" Demon commented. "Must be both guys don't want to fight." He didn't look pleased.

"That's not the arena" Nautique smiled at him. "That's our comedy club. We've got a new comedy team making their first big-time appearance tonight. Should we stop and listen for a few minutes?"

"Why not?" Talisman asked. "We don't get many laughs around Prosecutor Zarren."

*****

"I'd like to introduce my partner" the male member of the comedy team told his audience. "I met her in a comedy club in the `Astro City' District". Astro City was around 600 miles from the Torrentic District. "I asked her name and she said `I'm Draci`. I told her 'That's a name you don't hear every day`. She said 'Actually, I do.'" the male comedian paused for a beat, perhaps waiting for laughter, which didn't come.

"Dirv and I spent some time getting to know each other before we started doing comedy - actually, he spent a lot of time telling me about himself, but he finally redeemed himself. He said `I'm sorry, I really should give you a chance to talk. What do you think about me?` How's that for a thoughtful guy!" At least the women in the audience applauded for this, but the men groaned.

"I'd rather listen to Zarren!" Demon yelled. Talisman agreed, and they continued on their way to the arena.

*****

A few minutes ago.

Manse came out of the privacy nook, and one of the attendants stopped in front of him. "Your drink, sir!"

Manse stopped - he hadn't ordered a drink, but what the heck, he reached for it. Something touched him on the side of the neck from behind and his body stopped responding, and without a sound he started to collapse. The attendant who had touched his neck with a device that looked like a pen grabbed him before he could fall, and the two attendants supported him as they walked out the back door. "Too much recstim" they told the only patron who noticed. "We'll take care of him." The patron turned away, pleased to know that the club took such good care of its customers, even when they made disgusting fools of themselves with recstim.

Manse was taken outside the rear door into an alley and dropped abruptly to the ground. His head bounced off the pavement, and he heard something crack - but he couldn't feel anything. One of the attendants pulled out a knife, and Manse was sure he was dead, but the man only sliced his clothes into shreds.

"Hey, Jak! Check out this tat' - he's a Krunkpunk!" the man told his partner.

"I guess he forgot he ain't on Krunk turf tonight. So, crud face, when you was just a local jerk-off, we was just gonna dump you out here as a lesson in manners. but seen'n as you's a Krunk, we got a message for you ta take back home wit ya! Da Krunks ain't welcome here, starting wit you." He pressed a button on his wrist computicator and almost instantly, a team of very tough-looking bouncers showed up. "Dis guy's a Krunk - and he kicked Frek in da head. I thought maybe you's guys cud send him off wit a little warnin' for da rest of da Krunkpunks?"

One of the bouncers kicked Manse in the head. He didn't feel a thing. "Da Edge and Torrentic District are Rimba territory, Krunkpunk - and you and yer pals better member dat da next time!" The bouncer turned to the waiter. "Frek's ok, so we won't kill dis guy." He and another bouncer picked up the Krunk's limp body, a third opened the lid on one of the dumpsters. "In ya go!" They dumped him inside and just before his head disappeared beneath the semi-liquid slop, one of them touched him with the pen-like device. He could move again, and unfortunately, he could feel the terrible torturous pain in his head. The dumpster slammed shut, and the back door of the club slammed shut, locking the naked, garbage-covered screaming Manse out of the club and the rest of our story.

*****

A group of men was seated around a table in the opulent main dining room in the Play the Edge club. Their meals had just arrived when one of them spotted a unique foursome entering the room.

"Drak! I think we're in trouble, Luke!" he jabbed the man next to him with his elbow, then realized that he probably ought to be more subtle. His voice dropped to a whisper "Don't look, but look at what just walked in the door." Luke started to turn his head. "I said `Don't look'!" the man whispered frantically.

"Dammit, Jase, how can I look and not look at the same time?" Luke was exasperated. By now, the other 3 men at the table were all staring at the door as well, and their jaws dropped and expressions of dismay and fear were clearly visible on their faces. Jase had not done so well with the `subtle' part.

"OK, you guys, listen to me. You gotta look casual!" Luke ordered in a low voice once he'd also seen Demon and Talisman. "Those women they're with are not part of the Justice Machine. They're only here for dinner, just like we are. Boy, that catgirl sure is hot, isn't she? I'll bet she's got sisters!"

Everyone knew that momma catgirls usually dropped at least a half dozen litters of at least 5 kits in each, so a catgirl _always_ had sisters. Jase snorted "Wouldn't it be funny if she was the ugly one?" and the others smiled, imagining Dusk's more attractive sisters, which was what Luke had intended. Except for Rauf, who swore quietly. He didn't think humans ought to associate with any aliens, but he knew his fellows felt differently. It was always a risk, taking Rauf into a place like this. Anyway, the group no longer looked like they'd just emptied the Edge's safe and had the loot under their table.

"They don't seem to be looking for us, they're just paying attention to the girls" said Jun, who was facing them. "Just heading for a table off in the corner."

"I can't believe he'd let her tail touch him like that!" Rauf snarled. Sometimes his prejudices got the better of him.

"Shut up, Rauf! Listen, guys, even if Jun's right, I think we ought to get out of here." Luke ordered his team. "I want you to get up slowly and we'll all just walk casually out the door. The meal's on the house, so the staff won't bother us."

So they got up walked casually towards the door. Rauf carried a drumstick with him, unwilling to totally abandon the best meal these men had seen in months.

Their waiter approached Luke, nodded sympathetically towards the table where Demon and Talisman were seated. "I understand, sir. Would you care for a private room instead?"

"No. We need to see Midnight, right away - in the dock." Slate Midnight was the `Boss' of Play the Edge, also a high ranking boss in the Rimba Syndicate, which ran organized crime in the Torrentic District. Luke and his group had a business deal scheduled with Rimba later that evening, and Midnight had offered them the run of the club when they'd arrived early. After being cooped up in a submarine for the past week, Luke had allowed his command team the luxury of a good meal. He hated to call off the deal, but according to Midnight, the merchandise wouldn't arrive for another hour - and he wasn't going to hang around here another hour with the Justice Machine in the building!

They were led into a private elevator, reserved for Edge personnel and private guests, and taken down to the 30th floor. They were met there by Karess Klawripper, Midnight's chief negotiator. Klawripper belonged to the same wolf-like species as Feral, a former member of the Justice Machine, and her reputation as a ferocious fighter almost matched his.

"I hope the Rebel Underground is not considering abandoning our deal, Luke!" Luke figured she must be using voice synthesizer technology; Feral had never spoken so well in his rare public appearances. It didn't make her any less scary! "It was dangerous and expensive for Rimba to acquire your merchandise; we expect payment in full!" In spite of the synthesizer, they could hear the growl underlying her words. All 5 men were armed, but Luke was pretty sure it wouldn't matter, in close quarters like this hall, Klawripper could disembowel them before they even knew she was attacking.

"I don't want to welch on the deal, the Underground needs the stuff! I just want to postpone until we're sure the Justice Machine isn't about to bust us!"

"We checked the security videos; these two arrived alone, and their recorded actions have convinced me that they are not on business tonight. We've assigned one of our best troubleshooters to keep an eye on them. We don't want the merchandise in our possession any longer than necessary. If you won't take delivery tonight, we have another client who will."

Luke was thinking fast, and he had an idea. "I need more protection against the Justice Machine. Suppose I let two of my guys gear up in the demo merchandise and stand guard? That would make me feel a lot safer."

Klawripper considered. "No. I can't have two of your men, in full Imperial armor and weapons, inside the Edge. Instead, suppose one of your men, and one of ours, `gear up', instead. The Justice Machine is enemy to both of us, and that way, our unstoppable forces offset." He nodded, reluctantly. "Excellent. The deal will proceed as scheduled!" She led the group to a concealed elevator, and they continued down, well below street level.

*****

Deep under the building which housed the Play the Edge club, it was a very busy night.

During the last 800 years, Vanguard City had grown like an amoeba to engulf virtually the entire Third Continent, starting as a seaport on the harbor where the great Huxley River, largest on Third Continent, had emptied into the Torrentic Ocean, right where the Torrentic District now stood. Though the Huxley River had been covered over and built upon centuries ago, it still followed its ancient path, hundreds of feet below street level, its vast watershed draining half the continent.

There were times when the Rimba Syndicate found it convenient to have a means of moving things into or out of Vanguard City unobserved. Almost 20 years ago, an ancient sub-basement of the building housing Play the Edge had been extended to the buried shore of the Huxley River and rebuilt as a docking area for submersibles, a perfect hidden and unsuspected transshipment facility. Rimba submersibles regularly ran upstream along the Huxley into the middle of Third Continent, and cargo submarines, such as the one used by the Rebel Underground, regularly docked here to discharge and accept cargo.

Security was tight for tonight's delivery. The Syndicate was selling some of the most modern military equipment, including cutting edge weapons and infantry armor, munitions, spares and training videos, to the Rebel Underground for a boatload of money. Neither group trusted the other, and with all the firepower changing hands there was a potential for things to get out of hand. Add in the presence of two members of the Justice Machine in the club above and tension was high.

The military equipment had been rescued from a Syndicate-owned materials recycling center a couple of hundred miles 'upriver' from the Torrentic District. It had been originally destined for a garrison planet on the Rim, but an unfortunate (and totally untraceable) computer foul up had switched the routing orders for the garrison shipment with a shipment of several hundred tons of obsolete street cleaning machines destined for recycling. The Syndicate clearly couldn't let all that brand new military equipment just be destroyed! A barge designed specially to navigate on the covered-over river would be arriving from the upstream recycling center tonight. The rebel submarine had docked several hours earlier, and the crew had been taking advantage of the many forms of entertainment offered by Play the Edge.

The presence of Demon and Talisman threatened the entire operation.

*****

It wasn't the kind of place, thought Demon, where even he would normally bring a date. The arena was a pit, with the cage taking up most of the room's floor. Surrounding the floor was a series of ledges where the patrons sat at tables, each ledge higher and further back from the cage than the one in front of it, so everyone had an unimpeded view. The tables and chairs were made of plastic and permanently attached to the floor, and food and drink were served in soft plastic containers, nothing that could be thrown or used as a weapon by an inebriated patron. Demon had seen other arenas like this, at the end of the night, when the room was empty, robot cleaners brought out powerful hoses and simply hosed all the trash down to the floor, where it was washed through a single giant drain. It was poorly lit and dingy, and jammed full of screaming patrons. Most of whom were high on something or other, Demon decided.

He'd fought in places like this, before he'd been `drafted' into the Academy; actually, places much worse than this. Those were not days he liked to remember.

"They fighhhhhhht until one of thhhhhhhem can't continuuuuue." Dusk said, excitedly. "No wwwwweaponssss, no other rulessssss"

"So they're fighting to the death?" Talisman asked, uneasily.

"There are a surprisingly few number of deaths, actually" Nautique responded, as Dusk sighed. "Most of our fighters are professionals, and they sort of stick together. A deliberate killer probably won't live to get out of the locker room after the fight. Still, we have a couple of deaths every evening." She was very blasé about it. "We pay well, even after medical expenses, even a loser only has to fight a couple of times a year. And a consistent winner can retire after a dozen or so fights. Not that they do. most of `em don't know anything else, so they keep fighting until they lose one too many."

Even Demon shuddered at that. He had no illusions; he figured he would die fighting. But he was fighting for something. Wasn't he? To prove he was the best. that made him different than these guys, didn't it? Dusk brushed his bottom with her tail and distracted him from further uncomfortable thoughts along those lines.

Neither hero enjoyed the fighting as much as they had anticipated. To Demon, it brought back bad memories of living on the streets, keeping himself alive by fighting in an arena when he had no other choices, and Talisman had always disdained physical brutality. But Dusk was purring and rubbing herself against Demon, her tail wandering, and Nautique watched detachedly. Neither man bet; it seemed somehow obscene to bet on someone else's life. Being in the Justice Machine had changed them both, somewhat.

But it didn't stop Demon from commenting on each match. "I can't believe how slow and clumsy that one is, even Talisman could have dodged that blow!"

"OK, Gabel, cut it out with the `even Talisman' crap, will you?" his teammate complained. "I don't go around telling everyone about your crummy taste in clothes!"

"A telling blow!" Nautique smiled. "It _is_ a habit that is somewhat below you, Gabel." she agreed. "Surely you can critique these fighters without mocking Talisman as well?"

He didn't respond, but he did stop including Talisman in his analysis. "He left himself wide open there" "She did that pretty well, almost as well as I would." "Neither of these two deserves to get paid".

*****

One of the patrons at the next table was betting heavily. Demon's commentary seemed to irritate him, and for the most part, the fighters he was betting on were the ones Demon criticized the most, and for the most part, he was losing. He was becoming more and more angry, and Demon's running analysis didn't help. Suddenly Demon sat up straight and looked a lot more interested.

"I recognize this fighter. She was at the Academy at the same time I was, got thrown out because she wouldn't put out for the commandant. She's a pretty good fighter - not as good as me, but she's better than anyone we've seen tonight."

"You know, boy, I'm tired of list'nin' to you. You talk real big, but I notice you ain't had the guts to lay any bets all night." The neighbor's anger finally reached the point he felt like saying something

Dusk hissed and spit at him, bared her teeth and started moving in that direction but Nautique reached out and stopped the catgirl, then turned to the speaker and spoke quietly. "You're pretty wasted, friend. Time for you to leave." Nautique reached for the call button on her wrist computicator, but Demon stopped her.

"Hold on. Let's hear what he has to say." His eyes were flashing with anger, but his voice was quiet.

"Oooh. thanks fer savin' me from the big bad witch, boy!" he sneered at Demon. "Yer a pretty hot shit big shot, ain'cha? Bet your hot shit girlfriend down there loses this match!"

"We didn't get along well, but that doesn't mean she can't fight." Demon barked back angrily.

"Notice you haven't had the guts to place a bet all night, boy." The man was pretty drunk and didn't seem to realize he was repeating himself. His companions were pulling on his arms, trying to get him to shut up, clearly worried about confronting the famous Demon, but he wasn't having it. "Bet you're too much of a coward to place a bet on this match."

"We don't even know who she's going to be fighting." Talisman protested.

"If she's almost as good as he is, and he's the best, it really shouldn't matter, should it, maggot?"

"Shut up, Talisman." Demon spoke up before his teammate could unleash his own anger. "He's right, I haven't seen anyone tonight who could touch this girl. I'll take that bet."

"Well, then, I want a piece of the action too!" Talisman claimed. With his luck behind her, she couldn't lose and this guy would be shut up.

"No! She doesn't need your help." Demon insisted.

Suddenly the noisy room went silent as her opponent entered the cage.

*****

It was a scene out of a nightmare. A green lizard-man, 7 feet tall, with a spiked tail and vicious teeth and claws stalked into the room, and the entire arena shook with every step it took.

"Triune crap! It's as big as Titan!" Talisman's whisper was awed. "I thought we killed them all in the Rim Wars!"

"I KNOW for sure it's illegal for a Rim Raider to be here on Georwell!" Demon added. He stood up, intent on doing something. Dusk wrapped her tail around one of his arms.

"Nothing isssss illegal herrrrrrrreee" she spat at him. He jerked to a halt, startled. The human fighter glanced once at the beast, then returned to her preparations, apparently unconcerned. The Rizard stood quietly, its forked tongue flickering in and out of its mouth, and its eyes appeared to flash as its transparent inner eyelids flicked over the eyes to keep them moist.

Meanwhile, the staff prepared the cage for the fight. Sand was brought in and thrown over the blood on the floor, and the unconscious body of the last losing fighter was dragged back to the locker room. The announcer used the time to introduce the next two fighters.

"Beings, introducing the so-far undefeated Dary Enile and our latest alien gladiator, arriving from the Rim World just today, Grimuhd, the brother to Grimnir, the former Emperor of the Rim." Demon knew that Challenger had killed Grimnir to end the Rim Wars, 14 years ago.

"So, sonny." the drunk laughed at Demon "you're not feeling so damn smart now, are you?" He didn't seem quite as drunk as before. "My Rizard will rip your friend into shreds!"

*****

Demon still wasn't worried. Yes, the Rizards had once been mankind's most deadly enemy, but that was before Challenger had a chance to study them closely, after the war. His mind split. Half was watching the match, which had now started, and half was replaying a training session that had happened about 4 years ago, when Challenger himself had appeared at the Academy in a `Know your enemy' session. Dary had been there as well.

"The Rizards are reptiles, and cold-blooded. In cooler environments, they are slower and their movements are stiff. They evolved on a planet that is much warmer than Georwell, average temperature of around 46 degrees Georwell*. So on our planets they are much slower than on their own."

*On Georwell, they define the freezing point of water as being 0 degrees Georwell, and the boiling point to be 100 degrees Georwell, which makes their temperature scale identical to the Celsius scale. This converts to about 115 degrees Fahrenheit.

Dary moved into the ring and started circling slowly. Demon could see that that the Rizard was moving stiffly. Then she stopped and stood motionless. For an instant, Grimuhd stopped too.

"Their vision is triggered by motion. If you're not moving, they need to use their other senses to see you. Don't be fooled, though. Unlike humans, who get about 90% of our information about the world around us through our eyes, Rizards only depend on sight for about 30%. Their highly evolved sense of smell is more sensitive than that of a hunting dog, and by tasting the air frequently with their sensitive tongues they can easily sense the general location of prey and follow it through environments that to humans exhibit a bewildering array of scents."

The Rizard's forked tongue kept flickering in and out of its mouth, and it turned and oriented once again on Dary. It started shuffling forward again, the tongue continually flickering in and out, and Dary continued to circle.

"Once a Rizard's tongue indicates that its quarry is nearby, its sensitive hearing helps locate even a stationary target. It can easily detect your heartbeat and breathing. Having evolved in a noisy jungle environment, a Rizard can easily ignore background noise and focus on only the sounds of its prey. Swinging its head back and forth helps produce a kind of three-dimensional sonar effect as it builds up a mental sonic picture of the environment around it."

The monster's head swung from side to side, and then stopped, facing directly at its human opponent. It raised itself to full height, roared and lumbered forward. The floor thudded under its great weight.

"A Rizard is much stronger than a human, and the scales on its skin provides it with very effective armor. And the edges of the scales can be sharp! Barehanded attacks can hurt you more than the lizard."

Dary darted in close to the fearsome lizard man and struck several blows at blinding speed, then danced back away. The back of one of her hands was bleeding. She reached to the floor and filled both hands with the filthy bloody sand, kneading her own blood into the muddy mix.

"They have formidable natural weapons of teeth, claws, and they use their spiked tails like whips. Stronger than the legs of most humans, as flexible as a rope, the tail is covered with bony spines that are as sharp as a needle and as strong as an iron spike. Their favorite mode of attack is to run directly towards their prey, then turn sideways and lash out with the tail"

The spines on the Rizard's tail stood erect, and it stopped and turned and the tail lashed at Dary like a whip. She frantically leaped backwards and almost escaped - a glancing blow caught her in the side. Demon was sure he heard a rib crack, and the spines penetrated even her tough battle-cloth outfit, leaving several puncture wounds.

"Fortunately, the tail is not very effective against a target that is directly in front of and a few feet away from a Rizard. Its own body gets in the way."

She kept moving, now staying directly in front of the monster. The tail was about 6 feet long, but after wrapping around the Rizard's body, its effective reach directly in front of the beast was much less.

"When fighting a human, you might you might distract him and cause him to jerk away from you by throwing a handful of dust in his face. You can adapt this technique against a Rizard - although you have to be pretty close to make it work."

Dary hesitated just an instant as if waiting for something, then stepped closer to the giant lizard and moving faster than Talisman could follow, grabbed the flickering tongue with both hands, squeezing to get as much of the sticky bloody sand off her hands as possible. The monster jerked away from her, and she continued charging, dropping her shoulder and knocking the Rizard backwards.

"A Rizard is not designed to move backwards and if you can somehow get one moving in that direction, it will probably trip over its own tail."

Almost on queue, the Rizard fell backwards as its legs got tangled with its tail. Dary continued to drive forward, and as the beast landed she made sure she landed on top and before the lizard could respond, she slammed her fists into its ears. The Rizard screamed once and stopped moving.

"A Rizard's most vulnerable spots are its hearing organs. It doesn't have external ears; instead, near the back of the head are two concave depression in the skull that work like dish reflectors, covered by thin layers of skin called tympani. Rupturing the tympani will produces great pain and disorientation, almost always doing enough damage to at least temporarily knock the Rizard out of the fight long enough for you to kill it."

The referee declared Dary the winner. The crowd was stunned into virtual silence. Betting had been heavy on the alien. "Not bad" Demon said. "Of course, I would have beaten Mr. Claws without being touched - but I'm the best." Around them, the crowd started making noise again, a low buzzing of amazement and excitement. They were disappointed at missing the blood and gore they had expected, but they could appreciate a skilled gladiator, too. Very few people would bet against Dary in her next fight!

Demon's neighbor didn't say a word, just dropped a wad of bills on the hero's table as he stomped towards the door. Demon couldn't just let him go. "Told you I was the best, sweetheart. You'll know better next time!"

*****

The loser said nothing. But once he was outside the arena, he turned to one of his associates. "Go down to the ready room and offer 2 million to the fighter who kills Demon - tonight!" he ordered hoarsely.

The little man didn't know exactly how to find the `ready room' but he was paid to carry out his boss's wishes, regardless of how difficult they were. He hustled away into a deserted corridor that seemed to go in the right direction. Before long he encountered a very large man wearing the protective armor-cloth outfit of a gladiator.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for the gladiator's ready room. Can you direct me?"

"Why d'ya wanna know?" the hulking fighter growled. "You sure t'aint no fighter."

"My employer, Mr. Tursca, is offering a bounty of 2 million for killing Demon of the Justice Machine. He's in the crowd tonight." the little man said. "I need to tell all the fighters."

"You kin stop looking, ya found me. Go tell yer boss that Talon Madkill is on da job."

"I have to make the offer to everyone - Mr. Tursca`s orders."

"Madkill don't want no competition, little man."

The little man shrugged and continued towards the ready area. The big man shrugged and hit the little man in the back of the neck, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. "Madkill only says tings once." the big man sneered, then turned and headed for the arena. Demon was as good as dead!

*****

Brugess walked calmly through the Edge's sophisticated weapon detections system. He could feel the tingling vibrations as the ultrasound scanners made a complete 3D picture of his body, and he imagined he could also sense the complex electromagnetic fields that washed over and through him. Invisible ultra-violet laser beams swept his exposed skin, painlessly vaporizing a few dead skin flakes so that the resulting vapor could be analyzed instantly for chemical and genetic abnormalities.

But none of the Edge's security measures could detect his organic augments, once again justifying their expense. He'd spent just over a year lying in a medically-induced comas in a life-support tank in a hospital as nanites permeated his body, eating some of his cells for raw materials and replacing them with improved synthetic organic substitutes. With organic superconductors interwoven throughout his nerve cells, his reactions time and speed were superhuman, and the synthetic muscle fibers that had replaced about a third of his original tissue gave him enhanced strength as well - and it was all undetectable. All of which was perfectly suited to his chosen profession, mercenary assassin.

Now all he had to do was find his quarry. Talisman was as good as dead!

*****

"Have you ever worn one of these?" Rimba enforcer `Slicer' Berker asked his new acquaintance, Rebel militiaman Urnl Amizov.

"I did a hitch in Assault" Amizov replied. "These are really scout suits, not infantry suits - designed for speed and agility rather than firepower. Even so, you'll feel like Lionheart when you got it on. Strong, invulnerable, and you can fly - though I doubt we'll be flying much down here!" he indicated the roofed over docking area. "The weapons will be turned off, but we won't need `em. If they stick their noses in where they don't belong, the Justice Machine is as good as dead!"

*****

Demon approached the cage to offer his congratulations to Dary, while Talisman studied the information that the table's betting computer was providing about the next fight. He had seen about enough fighting for one day - make that a month! - and was hoping that when Demon returned they could find some other interesting activities offered at Play the Edge.

"Nice fight - you won me a bundle!" Demon said to his ex-classmate. She turned and looked at him coldly.

"Nevin. Or should I say, `Demon' these days? And now you're a big time hero, helping people in trouble?" She sniffed, then turned away - and turned back. "Or are you still just into helping yourself?" She stomped away and didn't look back again.

*****

In the sub-basement, Urnl was giving Slicer some basic instruction in using a combat suit. They'd started in a smaller room, but Slicer had bashed holes in the ceiling, two walls and the floor with injudicious movements highly amplified by the powered suit. Urnl had been relieved to find that these suits responded to the same command codes he'd learned as a non-com in an armored infantry unit; he'd used the 'rookie override code' to limit Slicer's suit to half power. The enforcer had no idea that this had been done - he thought he'd suddenly become much more adept at controlling the suit. Even at half power, he'd still be 10 time stronger than a human, and the armor would make him practically invulnerable. Urnl was confident that in his suit, Slicer could stand against anyone in the Justice Machine except perhaps for Titan - and Urnl was sure that he himself could easily deal with Titan on equal terms in a scout suit at full power. They were as ready as they were going to get on short notice!

*****

"That went well. NOT" Demon said to himself as he headed back to his friends. "Hope Dusk didn't see that." His friends were clustered around the table's computer display when he got back. When they looked up, he smirked "She still wants me!" To his relief, nobody laughed at him, but they all turned back to the cage. He looked around, noticed a significant change in the crowd. A change that concerned him a little.

"Nautique?" The beautiful hostess looked up at him. He rotated his finger in a circle, indicating the whole arena. "Did you realize we're suddenly surrounded by street gangs? I see at least 4 different sets of colors and tats. I'm surprised we're not in the middle of a rumble already."

"They wouldn't dare!" she snapped, indignantly, then her expression softened. "You couldn't know the rules, but they do. We welcome everyone, even street gangsters, to the Edge, as long as they spend money and behave. They know Rimba keeps order here. Ever hear of BloodSpurt37?" He nodded. Demon's past was inextricably tied to street gangs, and he still had contacts on the street. Half a dozen of the leaders of the BloodSpurt37 gang, one of the largest on Third Continent, had been slaughtered recently. "So have they" she indicated the crowd.

"So why are they here? They don't get enough blood and gore on the streets, so they have to watch cage matches?" Demon complained.

"Tonight's special.” she replied, a little sadness evident in her voice. In the next fight, they expect to see an ex-cop get slaughtered by a gangster. They're willing to put up with being around other gangs to watch that."

The next fight looked like a big mismatch - a white haired man who was thin and moved stiffly vs. a youngster who couldn't be 20 yet, was built like a tank, and was covered in violently-colored street gang tattoos He was making vicious gestures, drawing his finger across his throat, clenching his fists and twisting them together, mimicking choking motions. The older man stood with his back to the younger, staring blankly at the crowd as they mimicked the actions of the younger fighter.

Talisman read the information about the fight from the table's betting computer. "The white haired guy is Ghon Smif. Military veteran, then he was a cop for 40 years, been retired for 10 years. Got an incurable heart condition, maybe 6 months left. His wife needs an operation and he can't pay for it. This fight will pay for her operation - but he'll probably be killed. Guess he thinks it's a good trade. The other man is named `Dunga'. I think Dung would be more appropriate - fits his appearance and it's shorter. Doesn't say what gang he's from. Has a thing for killing cops, it says here." The gangsters at the next table overheard Talisman mocking their hero, and their faces darkened with anger. But they kept silent, the recent lesson of BloodSpurt37 not lost on them.

Demon was uncomfortable. Smif reminded him of the older veteran who'd saved him from the streets, adopted him out of a gang and taught him martial arts, and who'd ended up dead at the hands of that same gang - which Gabel had then eradicated with his own hands, but it hadn't brought back his adopted father.

"Nautique, I want to buy Smif out of this fight, quick before it starts, and I'll fight in his place."

"It's way too late, Gabel. The crowd wants Smif's blood. If you even got into the cage, much less beat up `their' fighter, they'd tear this place apart. His death will allow his wife to live the rest of her life in dignity. Let him die with honor."

Demon knew from looking at the gangster that it wouldn't be a clean or honorable death -the punk would make it long and painful. He didn't know what to do, and then suddenly, his expression changed from one of doubt to one of determination, and he started to stand up again. Talisman reached out and put his hand on his teammate's arm.

"Gabel, I'll take care of this one" he said quietly, stopping Demon before he could storm into the cage and start a riot. Talisman turned back to the betting computer and bet the entire amount in the hacked Justice Machine account on Smif. If Smif lost, Prosecutor Zarren would try him for theft of Justice Machine funds - and the penalty would certainly be execution. "I sure hope my Karma balance is positive right now!"

Unnoticed by the Justice Machine teammates, a very big man was standing just inside the gladiators' entrance. Madkill watched the foursome closely. If he was any judge of arena fights, and he was, having won almost a hundred, the crowd would be in a frenzy during this match, and he'd use that as cover to approach. In the extremely crowded standing area, Brugess tried to avoid being jostled by the excited crowd of young adults who were waiting to cheer for pain and gore. This fight had better start soon, or he was going to kill some street gangsters for free!

The fight didn't start well for Smif. Dunga sprang at him faster than the old man could dodge. Ignoring Smif's feeble blows, Dunga hit him with a powerful backhand slap, and Smif flew backwards across the floor, then hit and rolled, coming to a stop against the side of the cage. The bloodthirsty crowd roared its approval, and Dunga stopped fighting to stomp around the inside of the cage, throwing back his head and roaring as he beat his chest.

To Demon's trained eye, the blow had not appeared as devastating as the crowd though. The old man had anticipated it and rolled backwards to soften the blow, then slapped the floor hard when he'd fallen to take up the impact. "In his time, he must have been good" Gabel whispered to his table. Smif climbed to his feet, using the bars of the cage for support, then staggered towards the center of the ring, gasping for breath. Dunga noticed him, dropped his head and bullrushed, planning to crush the old man against the bars - hopefully snapping some brittle old bones in the process. "A first year cadet at the Academy has better fighting skills" Demon sneered. One of the gangsters at the next table had to be restrained by his mates. Demon only laughed.

Smif had anticipated this charge, but even so, even with adrenaline racing through his old withered body he was almost too slow. He spun out of the way, but Dunga's shoulder caught him across the stomach. He stumbled backwards, flailing his arms, and one of his hands, seemingly at random, slapped the younger man and dragged across his face, grinding a mixture of blood and sand into Dunga's eyes, nose and mouth. The crowd booed, Smif staggered away, and Dunga straightened and wiped his face with his hands, roaring incoherently at the top of his lungs.

"Nautique, I think we need Security!" Talisman pointed to a big man pushing his way through the rowdy crowd towards their table. A gangster protested at being pushed out of the way, then silently collapsed as the big man drove a thumb into the side of his neck. The big man supported the other and it looked to those around them as if the gangster had just passed out from too much recreational substance use as the big fella eased him into a chair. Nautique instantly pressed the panic button on her computicator.

With a heroic, agonizing effort, Smif reversed directions and got close enough to launch a kick towards Dunga's midsection. The street fighter saw the attack coming from the corner of his eye, and he turned and took it on the hip. There was a sickening crack when the older man's leg struck, and Smif fell to the floor, screaming. Dunga easily spun away from the feeble kick. His eyes were now clear, and the crowd sensed that he was going to end the fight quickly. As Smif struggled to his hands and knees, Dunga turned and launched a kick at the older man's head. His plant foot slipped in a bloody puddle as he spun and he fell sideways, hit his head on a bar of the cage as he fell, and crashed to the ground, unconscious.

For an instant, there was total silence as the crowd was stunned. Then all hell broke loose!

"Nautique's called us in, man!" Slicer was nervous about his impending first action in powered combat armor. "She's in the arena and there's some kind of problem with those Justice Machine hotshots. Let's go!"

Urnl had already used the suit's internal sensors to determine the location of Nautique's signal. Back when he'd been in the Armored Infantry, he would have leaped into the air and flown directly there, smashing through ceilings and walls along the way, regardless . The Georwellian Infantry didn't worry much about collateral damage, one of reasons he was now part of the Rebel Underground. As it was, he and Slicer hurried to an elevator.

An amazed cheer went up from some of the crowd - the adventurous few who had bet on Smif (certain they would lose but the long odds and potential huge payoff had made a small bet worthwhile) and those who were happy to see an ex-cop win or a street thug lose. This cheer didn't sit well with some of the losers, and they turned to the nearby people who were cheering and started yammering. Tempers were starting to rise, but almost everyone knew what happened to those who violated the truce enforced inside Play the Edge.

Another group, mostly street gangsters intent on taking revenge for one of their own, left their seats and rushed towards the cage. They would rip it apart with their bare hands if necessary, and then tear Smif apart as well, and anyone else who tried to stop them. Truce be damned!

Deep in the bowels of the giant building that housed Play the Edge, Durble's security monitors picked up the impending riot. He quickly slapped the alarm switch and called his boss again. "Solly! We got us a BIG problem in the arena!" Before Solly arrived, Durble took action on his own. He slapped a palm plate that froze his monitor on the arena and routed the arena security controls to his own console, then flipped a switch that electrified the bars of the cage. The effect was horrifying!

Dunga had slumped against the bars, and the current shocked his body into grotesque spasms. Each time it jerked, Dunga's body broke contact with the bars, and each time it fell back against the bars there was a horrendous sizzling noise and the spasms started again. Seeing this further enraged the other street gang members and that was the end of the Rimba-enforced truce! The first thrown blow was like a spark in a room filled with hydrogen; virtually instantaneously, fighting broke out throughout the room.

In the cage, Smif had watched in horror as Dunga's unconscious body had jerked around, and he could hear the sickening sizzling noise and smell burned flesh, until Dunga finally bounced far enough away that he was no longer touching the bars. The current wasn't meant to be fatal, but no one was supposed to stay in contact with it more than an instant, either. Painfully dragging his broken leg behind him, trying to ignore the agony, the ex-cop crawled over to the body and began trying to restart Dunga`s heart. He couldn't just let anyone die, even a vicious foe who had just tried to kill him. Several of the other gladiators spilled out of the ready room and tried to assist him or protect him as required. They glared outward through the bars, daring anyone to come inside!

Meanwhile several members of the group which thought it was storming the cage had been stupid enough to actually touch the now-electrified bars and they were thrown violently backwards, crashing into their fellows and the crowd nearest the floor level. Those that crashed into fights were impartially pummeled by the opposing fighters who then returned enthusiastically to their prior engagements.

In Security, Durble and Solly were stunned to see the horrifying results to Dunga of what was supposedly a non-lethal system to protect the gladiators in the cage from the crowd. Solly frantically slammed his thumb against a panel to activate the main emergency crowd-control system. Motors activated and drove open valves on a row of gas tanks, which spewed knockout gas into the air ducts leading to the arena. Auxiliary fans started up to insure that the gas was quickly dispersed to all parts of the big room. On the monitor, Solly could see patrons' hair and clothes ripple in the strong winds created by the fans so he started arranging a clean-up team, but no one collapsed unconscious; the gas wasn't working!

The noise in the arena had risen to an almost stunning volume, a cacophony of people shouting in anger, screaming in fear or pain, and the sounds of fighting.

A group of extremely handsome, expensively-dressed older patrons in business attire didn't head for the door soon enough, and their table was surrounded by a dozen younger men and women in gang colors. The street thugs all had knives. In the Security dungeon, Solly was doubly horrified - the computer's on-screen annotations identified the patrons at the table as higher-ups in the Zucro Syndicate, a Rimba ally from the opposite side of Third Continent, here to negotiate a business agreement, and the gang had knives that had passed through the club's sensors.

"Fancy folks gotta have a lot of loot!" the leader of the thugs sneered. "Lay it all onna table, nice'n'easy, and y'might live ta walk outta da door."

The patrons around the table just laughed. They had all graduated from gangs decades ago. "If you punks leave us alone, now, we'll let you live. Mess with us, well, that's the end of the `LionKlaws'!" the most elegantly clad woman spoke. She didn't raise her voice, but nobody had any problem hearing her. Perceptive thugs might have been alarmed when an `old rich woman' read their colors, but they only heard the threat. And it was already too late. They snarled and moved closer.

"Wrong answer." she said quietly. "Too bad you punks never learned about bringing knives to a gunfight." There were several almost simultaneous flashes as the older group fired their previously undetected weapons and the LionKlaws quietly slumped to the floor.

The loud crack of energy weapons produced an instant of stunned silence in the room, followed by a panicked rush of most of the patrons for the doors. The doors became choke points and knots of people built up outside, and people started to get hurt in the crunch. The room became even louder with the anguished screams of people trapped in the crowds around the doors.

Brugess was getting frustrated at not being able to quickly find his target. He had expected the punk who'd called in the target to be here to give him directions - he vowed to find him later and take a little of his anger out of the gangster's hide. Talisman wasn't in the casino, but Brugess eventually spotted him in the arena. Brugess arrived just as the fighting broke out, which frustrated him even more. He couldn't use his speed effectively in a crowd -he needed space to get up to his top speed, and he needed room to turn at those speeds. If he crashed into someone at super speed, the collision could be as devastating to him as it was to his unfortunate crash victim. He decided to stay out of the crowd, and use a deadly thrown projectile instead.

From across the arena, Brugess had an unobstructed view of Talisman's table. He pulled a small ceramic sphere from his belt, and threw it at super speed. It would hit Talisman in the forehead with enough force to kill him, and shatter into dust at the same time, leaving no clues to connect him to the murder.

At that exact instant, there was a crack of energy weapons, and a stray beam disintegrated the deadly missile. Brugess swore to himself,. The crowd has shifted, and he needed to change his vantage before he attacked again.

Solly was now close to panic. He couldn't let that crowd loose in the rest of the club, so he slapped another button. "Is that wise, Solly?" Durble asked, but his boss ignored him. It was by the book, so his ass was covered.

Back at the heroes' table, the foursome reacted differently to the riot. Dusk climbed onto the tabletop and she slashed viciously at anyone nearby who she decided was dangerous. Nautique had activated a highly illegal personal defense field, and she was trying to get in touch with the Director of Security. Anyone who touched her shield received a potent electric shock. Demon had his back to the table, counting on Dusk to cover him, and was keeping people away with kicks and punches.

Though Madkill didn't know it, Demon had been aware that the big gladiator was after him for several minutes. He didn't know why, and he didn't really care. He was used to it. when you're the best there is, there's always someone coming for you. Demon had faced them all, and bested them all.

Madkill exploded out of the crowd at the heroes' table, sweeping several falling or fallen patrons before him like broken trees before an avalanche. The tangled mass of people rolled towards Demon's feet. To avoid them, he leaped lightly onto the table top, then leaped again, towards and over the assassin. He used Madkill's shoulders like a pommel horse, and when he was behind the giant he unleashed a powerful kick to the back of Madkill's neck. His foot smashed into the tall protective collar of the gladiator's armor-cloth outfit, and the entire costume instantly became rigid, distributing the force of the kick across the gladiator's entire backside. Instead of breaking his neck, the kick merely knocked him forward to the ground. Demon did a forward flip and half twist, and landed gracefully, facing the table and the fallen giant.

On the table, Dusk oohed and aahed and applauded, and Demon performed a deep bow. "Nothin' to it - Demon at your service!"

Talisman calmly finished his drink and surveyed the chaos around them with amusement. Suddenly he reached out and snagged the wrist of a young man, maybe 20, with a scraggly beard and wearing ratty clothes. He pressed on a nerve center on the man's wrist in a `come-along-quietly' hold that Demon had taught him, and he was a little surprised when it worked just as his teammate had promised.

"Whatta ya want?" the young man whined. "Lemme go!" He tried to jerk his hand free, screamed in agony. He took a swing at the hero with his other hand. Talisman blocked it easily, then steadied the kid when he stumbled.

"Hey, kid, is that any way to treat someone who's trying to give you some advice?" he asked in a hurt tone. "I ought to just let you go; no skin off my nose when you get pinched as a pickpocket. Lifting wallets will be ever so much easier after they cut off your right hand." Sarcasm dripped from his voice. The kid tried to deny being a thief; Talisman squeezed the pressure point and waggled a finger on the other hand under the guy's nose. "I was watching. You need to improve your technique; some of your marks would have noticed for sure if it weren't for the riot going on, and you can't always start a riot on cue. Unless you're me, of course, but you ain't!"

He laughed, but when the boy didn't see the humor, Talisman sighed. "First thing, though, is your look. When you look like a lowlife, like you, people like me get suspicious when you're around, and then they keep an eye on you. And you're not good enough to lift things when people are watching you."

The kid shook his head defiantly. "Nobody's caught me yet!" he sneered. Then screamed from a tap on his pressure point.

"Except me. Pay attention when I'm talking to you, kid. Get cleaned up, buy a suit, get a haircut, and then practice, practice, practice. Or leave it to the pros." Talisman released him, and turned away, picked up his drink. The kid stepped back, and then when he judged he was far enough away to be safe, he spoke up.

"Triune-cursed old fart. What the frip d'you know, anyway?!?!"

Talisman pulled the kid's wallet from his suit jacket's inside pocket, then dumped it and half a dozen other wallets on the table. Unbelievingly, the kid slapped at all his own pockets and found that everything he had stolen already was missing. "I'm the best, kid. Check with Lost and Found tomorrow if you want it back." He turned back to his drink. The kid stepped closer, then jumped away as Dusk snarled and took a swing at him.

A thug in the crowd thought Nautique looked like fun - but she was with that skinny dude in the blue suit. He'd take out the guy, easy, and then drag off the woman. In this riot, nobody would notice. The catgirl and the other guy at the table were so involved in fighting that big guy, they'd be no problems either. He pulled out an undetectable energy pistol, similar to the ones wielded by the Zucros, and took aim.

From across the arena, Brugess threw his final sphere. He never carried more than 2: he didn't use them often, and he'd never before needed more than 1. He couldn't believe it when Talisman leaned forward and grabbed the arm of a boy, and his deadly sphere missed again - but this time, it struck something. The young hood who was about to shoot Talisman screamed in pain as his energy pistol shattered in his hand. Brugess howled equally loudly in frustration! He lost his cool, and raced through the crowd at the highest speed he could muster. With his enhanced reflexes, he was able to avoid most potential collisions, but he knocked several people sprawling. Each impact made him more angry.

Madkill had climbed to his feet, much to Demon's surprise, and was stalking relentlessly towards the hero. Demon sprang in and delivered two devastating punches, but the armor cloth lessened the damage done by the blows. Each time the cloth stiffened, Madkill was forced to stop moving for just an instant, which was why Demon didn't use armor cloth. To take advantage of these instantaneous hesitations, Demon threw his billy club at the behemoth, then instantly launched a flying double-legged kick to Madkill's chest. The giant staggered backwards.

Right into the path of the incensed, superspeeding Brugess. Brugess smashed into Madkill's back with the force of a truck, stopping his backwards stagger and driving him forward again, as if charging towards Demon. Meanwhile, the violent collision dropped Brugess stunned to the floor.

Nautique's defense shield was only good for a few minutes and she was getting close to panic - and frantically annoyed with Talisman, who was sitting calmly and, as far as she could tell, doing nothing.

She turned and saw the LionKlaws lying on the floor and she lost her cool. "Talisman! You're part of the Justice Machine! You should be doing something!" She was screaming loudly, only partly because of the noise in the room. "You gotta stop this!"

"Ah - I wasn't sure that old Slate Midnight would be OK with the Justice Machine taking action on Rimba turf - especially considering it's me. Not everyone appreciates me like you do! " Talisman replied apologetically. "Give me a couple minutes - I'll take care of it."

He stood up slowly, then walked casually through the crowd and down to the floor, drawing on his white gloves as he walked. He totally ignored the chaos around him and seemingly random fluctuations in the movement of the crowd opened a pocket of quiet around him as he walked.

By now, the gladiators had vacated the cage - they fought when they were paid to, but they weren't interested in fighting for free! Talisman opened the cage, protected by his insulated gloves, then stood calmly, waiting for Demon to notice him.

Demon ducked a haymaker, and saw Talisman standing near the open cage. Talisman smiled and indicated the open cage with an upturned palm. Demon nodded, then quickly turned back to Madkill, but the giant took advantage of his momentary distraction and hit him with an uppercut that seemed to blast up from the floor like a missile. Demon was launched up well up into the air and back, and he fell from one ledge to the lower one, and then rolled off the lower ledge and landed on the floor of the arena, on his side, seemingly unconscious.

As he staggered forward again, Madkill realized that Demon hadn't expected him to charge. Even though he was woozy, he threw a roundhouse punch at the hero, but Demon managed to duck. Then the foolish hero turned his head! He'd left the opening Madkill had expected and waited for, and the gladiator launched another punch, putting everything he had into it.

The idiot hero turned around just in time, and Madkill caught him good - and Demon flew upwards and backwards. Madkill was almost stunned - he was much stronger than a normal human, but he'd never actually launched his opponent into the air with a punch before.

Madkill roared with satisfaction and ran down the stairs to the floor, intent on the kill and his reward. His primal scream was so loud that for just an instant, everyone in the arena paused and turned to watch him. Demon quickly levered up on his arm and spun around, launching a kick at the assassin's legs. His legs knocked out from under him, Madkill fell forwards. Demon scrambled around behind him and pushed, and Madkill rolled forward into the cage. Demon stepped forward to close the cage door and Talisman stepped behind him, shoving as hard as he could. Caught totally off balance, Demon stumbled into the cage and Talisman shoved the door shut. He turned to the now silent audience.

"I'm willing to bet a hundred thousand on the little guy in red and blue" he said, his voice carrying to the entire room. "Any takers?"

*****

"I'll KILL YOU for this, Talisman!" Demon roared

"Little man, you not be doin' any killin' today, after Madkill t'rou wit you! Dead man can‘t kill." The giant turned and charged forward. He was now on familiar turf, and ready to earn his money. He managed to slam into Demon while the hero was still yelling at Talisman, and the two tumbled to the ground and rolled. Madkill's armor easily protected him from the bumps and bruises of rolling on the floor, while Demon took the worst of it.

Demon wasn't reacting well to being in a gladiator cage. After his parents had died, he'd been so destitute he'd fought for prizes in cages several times. His inherent hyper-speed had kept him alive but it had been traumatic for a kid in his early teens to have to fight against adults who were trying to kill him in front of crowds who cheered for his death. He was having trouble breathing and his heart was racing as his mind kept flashing back to scenes from his earlier life. And Madkill was taking advantage of his distraction!

The big man lunged forward, and slugged Demon in the head, left, right, left again, and Demon was battered backwards and fell. He tried to roll away, feebly, and Madkill helped him out with some well-placed kicks.

Outside the cage, Nautique was working frantically on her computicator, reprogramming the betting computer information and odds for this new fight. Several members of the crowd checked the betting computer on their tables, and placed bets on Madkill - and after seeing this, some of the others found tables and sat down and made bets of their own. When the big gladiator knocked Demon down, a cheer went up, and more people returned to their seats. By the time Demon rolled away, cleaning robots were trundling the bodies out of the arena and scrubbing away the blood spots, and those who hadn't already run out of the room were now back at the betting tables, cheering wildly as if there hadn't just been a riot.

Urnl and Slicer had finally exited the elevator and rushed through the corridor towards the entrance of the arena. As they approached, an alarm went off in their helmets. Urnl recognized it; somebody somewhere had slapped a panic button and returned full combat abilities to the suits. He was stunned when his suit's combat computer jerked his body around and instantly fired a short-range shaped EM pulse point-blank at Slicer; the combat computer in Slicer's suit fired a similar pulse at Urnl. Brugess, moving too fast for their eyes, and almost too fast for the suits' computers, had just run between them, and the combat computers had determined that the super-speed blip on their detection systems was a potential threat that the human operators were incapable of handling.

The systems in both suits went off-line instantly, leaving Urnl and Slicer encased in form-fitting metal statues weighing over a ton each. Even moving at top speed, Brugess was unable to totally escape the effects of the twin blasts, which interacted violently with the organic superconductors woven throughout his body. He fell to the floor writhing in agony, then passed out.

*****

Talisman was horrified at the beating his teammate was taking at the hands of the gladiator. He'd expected Demon to easily wipe the floor with this guy. He didn't like to fight himself, but unfortunately he'd had plenty of experience with fighters, and he knew that Demon was almost as good as he thought he was. Certainly better than that giant clod Madkill. Something was wrong.

"I have a bad feeling about this.." he moaned to himself as he opened the cage and stepped inside.

The crowd went wild and the betting accelerated as Nautique reworked the odds and added more scenarios. Which of the three would die first? Would Demon and Talisman live more than 2 more minutes combined? What type of blow would deliver the coup de grace on each hero? What was the over-under on broken bones for Madkill?

Madkill didn't seem to see him; the gladiator's eyes were focused on nothing but Demon. The giant rushed forward, and Talisman stuck out his foot. The big man tripped and fell forward onto his face, breaking his nose. When he arose, with blood gushing from both his nose and a split on his forehead, he wasn't ignoring Talisman any longer!

"You tripped me?!?!" the giant was unbelieving. "I'll tear you off your arms!"

"Ummm. couldn't I take a pass on that, big guy? My suits wouldn't fit so well."

"You mock Madkill?" the gladiator roared as he charged at Talisman with both arms stretched wide.

"Uh, no. You pretty much mock yourself." Talisman ducked and ran past Madkill as the giant tried to wrap his arms around the hero. He ran to his partner who was lying on the ground, and shook his shoulder.

"Gabel! This isn't one of those guys who you said 'Even Talisman can beat him;' I need your help! Oops!" He pushed Demon hard, and the martial artist rolled one way as Talisman jumped the other way, and Madkill charged between them. Madkill reached towards Talisman as he rushed past, and managed to snag one of the tails on the hero's suit, and the suit tore up the back.

"Damn! Now I'm mad!" Talisman turned to face the gladiator, his fists held high in a boxing stance. "You've had it." He danced in and threw a left jab, skipped back, another left jab, skipped back again as Madkill continued to advance, then set himself and let go a straight right to the jaw. It landed with a thwack! Madkill didn't even flinch but swept his massive left arm around in a deadly backhand. Talisman slipped and fell backwards, and the powerful blow thundered harmlessly over his head as he fell to the sand-covered floor.

This broke through to Demon, and he started laughing. Talisman scrabbled around to get back on his feet and scramble out of the way. Hearing the laughter, Madkill turned around to finish off the more dangerous opponent - and the opponent who would produce the best payoff of his career.

"Here's how you do it when you're the best!" Demon leaped to his feet, and threw a straight right Madkill was too slow to block, and Demon's fist exploded against the gladiator's jaw - and he didn't ignore this punch! His head rocked backwards, and Demon followed up with a spinning kick to the jaw of the staggering giant. Madkill collapsed like a bag of gravel.

The regular announcer had finally returned to the floor and the regular program resumed. Talisman was stunned that the crowd put the violence behind so quickly - or maybe not so stunned, given the makeup of the patrons of Play the Edge. Whatever the reason, except for those who were killed or injured, almost everyone else had found a table and was placing bets. In fact, even some of the injured were ignoring their wounds, placing bets and cheering!

As Demon and Talisman returned to their table, Demon was less belligerent about being pushed into the cage than Talisman had expected. Talisman didn't know it, but Demon was puzzled and considerably embarrassed by the funk he'd shown in the cage. He could take on a dozen like Madkill at the same time and barely raise a sweat, and wouldn't even need to think about a little extra `Edge', and he'd taken out the big man with one punch and one kick, once he'd broken through that funk. So, whatever it was, that was the last damn time it would ever happen! He was the freepin' best!

"You two made a lot of money tonight!" Nautique greeted them when they reached their table. She was sure by now that the heroes weren't here on business, and that the transaction taking place in the basement was secure -as long as neither hero saw Slicer or Urnl in armor. "Even without the casino! Next time we'll have to keep you away from the arena as well." Talisman brightened considerably at the mention of 'next time'.

"Yeah, about that." Demon was hesitant. "Could you see that Ghon Smif gets my share of the winnings?"

"Why, Gabel, what a wonderful gesture!" Nautique gave him a quick kiss, while Talisman glared at his teammate and Dusk growled deep in her throat. Nautique noticed that Talisman looked apprehensive, but she didn't tell the others that she'd noticed that he had already programmed the betting computer to channel his own winnings to Dary Enile, once their tab was covered. "Guess he doesn't want to spoil his image as a jerk' she decided.

Before anyone could say anything else, both heroes' computicators started complaining. Talisman recognized the alarm. "Damn! Class 2 Alert from Challenger, we have to get back to the Citadel of Justice!" He favored Demon with an evil grin. "Good thing we came in a hyper, if I bypass the top speed override, I can have us back in 10 minutes!" He turned to Nautique. "Sorry, sweetheart, duty calls! What's the shortest way to the hanger?"

She grabbed his hand and led him towards an exit, opposite the corridor where a team of muscular bouncers with powered lifters strained to get the unpowered combat suit statues out of sight. "It's too bad you have to go so early. It's been an exciting evening so far. I hope you'll be back soon!"

Demon was following, along with Dusk. "Don't touch the programming this time, Talisman. For a Class 2 alert, Challenger can wait on the autopilot to bring us back."

"You bettterrrrrr be back ssssssssssooon, Gabel." Dusk purred. Nautique led them into an elevator. Dusk turned her back to Demon, bent over and raised her tail. A small spurt of pungent liquid splashed over him. "Thhhhhhat sssssshhhhould keep other girlsssssss away!"

"NOT.ONE.WORD!" Demon glared at Talisman and Nautique, who were choking to avoid laughing.

They reached the hanger. A valet had brought the hyper out and prepped it for launch. Talisman was about to kiss Nautique's hand when she pulled him closer for a real kiss! They discretely didn't watch Demon and Dusk, and then the two heroes boarded the vessel. Demon set the autopilot to return home at a somewhat more sedate rate, and they were gone!

"I don't know if we can survive another evening like that - but it should be fun finding out!" Nautique mused as they headed back to the club. Dusk just ssssssssssighed.