Eternity Row by S. L. Viehl Page B

challenge.”
    “Why?”
    “You are a member of her HouseClan.”
    I sat down. “Great.” Another reason to burn the adoption records. “Why doesn’t this work like ClanKill, where a member of the family can talk some sense into the bloodthirsty hothead?”
    He made a shushing sound. “The challenge commences.”
    Unlike the physical challenge I’d once gotten into with Squilyp during my first tour on the Sunlace -not one of my finer moments-Darea made no announcements or declarations. She merely tossed a long, single-bladed sword to Ilona, then took up her own and launched herself at the Tingalean in front of her. Darea was warrior trained, and used the blade deftly to hack and slash at the toothy bola it flung toward her.
    The assembled Torins-some forty crew members- began cheering as purple and green blood splattered the deck.
    The other simulation began approaching the Terran girl, who backed up slowly. She looked too terrified to do much more than bleed, I thought, then got pleasantly shocked when Ilona dropped to the deck, rolled to avoid the bola, then thrust her sword at the Tingalean’s lower extremity. The simulation easily avoided the blow, and knocked the Terran girl into an interior panel with one solid thunk of its tail. Ilona scrambled to her feet and ran a circle around it, dodging the whiplike limblets and slashing at it whenever she could get close enough.
    Not bad for a humble weaver.
    Darea quickly downed her snake-soldier, then tossed aside her blade and executed a flawless death strike by plunging her newly emerged claws into the Tingalean’s upper torso and wrenching out its heart.
    I’d once glimpsed Xonea after he’d done that to a mercenary’s intestines, and the image still haunted some of my nightmares. Watching the mother of my daughter’s favorite playmate do that to a living being-okay, simulated living being-made my skin crawl.
    She stood, held the heart above her head for a moment, then tossed it to the deck. The dark blue claws that sprang from the tips of her fingers gleamed dark purple with simulated Tingalean blood. “I prevail.”
    Ilona had nearly finished off her soldier by then, and looked bewildered as the simulation disappeared. Slowly, she wiped some sweat from her face with the back of her hand. “Agreed.” She tossed the sword aside.
    “What happens now?” I asked Salo.
    “Darea will initiate the challenge of agility.”
    I expected a couple more simulated killers to appear, but the environome produced a pair of what looked like elaborate rose trellises that stretched from the floor to the upper deck, some twenty feet.
    “What are those things?”
    “ Hatlakin . They must climb them.”
    My vocollar didn’t translate the Jorenian word, but I figured it was some sort of garden thing. Their homeworld was literally paved in a gazillion different types of flora. “Interesting.”
    The symmetrical silvery slats that formed the hatlakins ’ diamond-shaped structure were pretty, but hardly any sort of a challenge. In fact, the slats were so close together even Marel could have climbed up one of them.
    “Let me guess.” I peered at the simulations. “Whoever gets to the top first, wins?”
    “There is more involved, Healer.”
    I saw what Salo meant when Darea and Ilona began climbing the trellises, and the innocuous silver slats began undulating as if they were melting. While both women hung on, pointed spikes of various sizes began extruding from the slats, directly at their hands, bodies, and feet.
    Ilona yelped as she changed handholds to avoid being stabbed. “Unfair!”
    “Then you must concede.” Darea grunted as a spike punctured one of her hands before she wrenched it free.
    “I will not.” The Terran girl began dodging the spikes, moving quickly toward the center portion of the trellis.
    If the spikes weren’t bad enough, the trellises began drooping over, twisting into strange shapes as if attempting to shake off the women.
    I leaned toward