It reminded Eva of flight school. But instead of jacked-up people with ships for brains, these were the best and brightest minds the universe had to offer, coming together to solve vital, complex problems like how many orifices could intoxicants be pumped into before medical intervention became necessary.
Not everyone was like that. Some of them built robots to beat the shit out of each other for fun.
Their destination was Medsammensvoren, a massive warehouse with a line of wannabe patrons that extended down the street for at least a block. It looked typical enough from the outside, about three stories tall and painted a bland gray covered in layers of graffiti and various unpleasantly smelly bodily fluids. The walls, however, were insulated to absorb all but the slightest whisper of whatever noise was happening inside, and the bouncer was a todyk nearly as tall as the building, her feathers glossy and her teeth each as big as Eva’s hand.
Eva knew how these places worked. The line was for appearances, and no one who was ever going to get in would be standing around waiting. She led her crew straight up to the door, ignoring the protests of the people who had probably been there for ages hoping to get noticed.
“Her friend is inside,” Eva said, jerking a thumb at Min.
“Naturally,” the todyk said, peering down at Eva with her enormous black eyes. “All of these fine personages also have friends inside.” Her small arm waved at the line, making the bystanders laugh.
“Their name is Yeon-ha,” Min said, clutching Sue’s hand and grinning. “They’re a fighter. Their bot is Moonbear.”
“How absolutely charming that you’re still speaking,” the todyk replied, then proceeded to ignore them entirely.
Eva rolled her eyes and leaned closer to Min. “Could you just ping your friend, please?” she asked.
A few minutes later, a person about Min’s age came zipping around the side of the building in a green hoverchair. Their black hair was chin-length and straight, their eyeliner was fierce, and they wore the kind of red-and-white cat suit that loosened and tightened with a commlink command for ease of removal.
“Min-jung!” they squealed.
“Yeon-ha!” Min shrieked.
They proceeded to do a wild hand-waving dance at each other while making high-pitched noises. Eva grinned at seeing Min so happy, despite the circumstances. Sue looked confused, and maybe a little sad, though Eva wasn’t sure why.
“Come on, let’s go, I have to show you my bot,” Yeon-ha said, spinning their chair around and taking off as quickly as they had appeared. Min raced after them, and after a moment of surprise, Eva followed, making sure the rest of the crew was close behind her.
Where the line was full of rowdy college students, the alleyway they now moved through was peopled with the types who gave The Sump its reputation. A variety of humanoids loitered about, many in privacy bubbles that left the area eerily silent except for the rustling of clothes or shuffling of feet and other mobility-related appendages. Sometimes items exchanged hands, or threatening gestures were made, but none of it was Eva’s business so she didn’t look too closely except to gauge whether she needed to be worried. It smelled like inhaled stimulants and synthetic lubricants, with an uncomfortably chewy hint of what Eva assumed was the nearby river. There was less graffiti here, and less garbage, and Eva moved a few centimeters closer to Sue just in case.
The back door to Medsammensvoren was the huge roll-up variety, to allow for bots to get in and out, as well as any todyk bouncers. There was also a smaller entrance, and Yeon-ha led them through it, past clusters of people watching holovids of bot fights projected in front of multiple walls, occasionally shouting with joy or anger at the results. Probably because gambling was involved; Min earned plenty of credits betting on herself back in the day, and so did her boss, which made him cranky when she tried to leave.
Not that Eva had cared, since he’d done nothing to keep Min safe in the first place.
Past the remote gambling matches were various other gaming tables, physical and holographic versions of dice and cards and tiles, and all the other exciting methods a whole universe of people addicted to winning had come up with. Lights flashed, wheels clacked, dealers barked orders, and machines played annoying trills and jangled and otherwise made nuisances of themselves. Sue kept pausing to watch, so Eva grabbed her by the arm and dragged her along so they didn’t get lost. Vakar, as always, moved through the crowds and machines with easy grace, and Pink brought up the rear like a jaded teacher taking her kids on a field trip. The smell of stims was stronger, coupled with alcohol and cologne and the usual pheromones from whichever species used them to communicate.
Yeon-ha finally came to a halt in front of another small door, clapping their hands in excitement. “Bots are through here!” they said. “Things are getting set up now, but they should be starting soon.”
“When are you fighting?” Min asked, her eyes wide.
“Not until later,” Yeon-ha replied. “First it’s the little bots, you know, and then the students who think they know what they’re doing.” They giggled, and Min joined them.
Eva stepped up next to Min and put on her friendliest smile. “This is great, definitely,” she said. “But do you know where we can find the infamous champion? We need to talk to them as soon as possible.”
Yeon-ha nodded, their lips pressed into a serious pout. “Yes, Min-jung told me. He’s very, what is the word . . .”
“Secretive?” Eva supplied. “Intimidating?”
“Irritating,” Yeon-ha said. “I want to punch him so much, in his face, as many times as I can until my knuckles hurt.” They scowled. “But he’s the champion, and Rubin Hjerte likes winning, so nobody can bother him.”
“Rubin Hjerte is in charge, I presume,” Eva said.
Yeon-ha nodded. “She oversees the fights. It’s best not to talk to her. She seems very nice, until she pulls someone’s teeth out. She has a large chest of teeth on her desk.”
“Qué cosa.” Eva blinked, suddenly very aware of her own dental situation. “So let’s avoid Rubin Hjerte and go straight for the champion, then. Where would he be?”
“He has his own booth in the back, where he sits with his fans and waits for his turn.” Yeon-ha shifted their chair to face Eva directly. “Be careful. You cannot harm him, no matter how much you want to, or you will get hurt. Or lose your teeth.”
“Thanks for the warning, but we’re tougher than we look.” Eva smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “And I can be very polite when I want to be. How hard can it be not to hit one guy?”
The door opened, and Yeon-ha led them into the bot-fighting room. It was huge, encompassing about half the total warehouse space, with a fenced-off area in the middle where the actual fights took place. On the far wall was a stage with a small band fronted by a purple-skinned kloshian, flanked by a white-furred kyatto and an annae that looked more like a walking cactus than a Venus flytrap. They blasted out a high-energy song that the assembled audience generally ignored. A second wall featured a bar, where a many-tentacled bartender with a giant eye was serving up whatever unholy combinations their mass of customers requested, as well as multiple levels of tables and booths that would double as prime seating when the fights started. Along the third wall, another massive door allowed bots to come and go, some walking or rolling or hovering under their owners’ control, others waiting on floating pallets until it came time to activate them and put them into service. The fourth wall had apparently been broken recently, huge cracks in its surface patched with long strips of Everseal and painted over quickly and inexpertly.