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‘Which one?’
‘Prolly Raha. Das where he go daily ‘fore he come work for akhan.’
It was more insight than he’d hoped to get from her. Kage decided to cut his losses and follow the lead she’d given him. ‘Sante,’ he said.
He fished around his pockets and withdrew another stack of food and medicine tokens.
Aran’smaminsnatched them like she had all the rights to them.
‘Nadacome back now,khan. Cause me trouble if you do.’
She withdrew into her hovel, and the dirty curtain fell back into place.
Kage shook his head.Damn, he was in no mood for a goose chase.
He loped away from East Pikani and tapped into his node again. While he’d visited Raha plenty in the past, it’d been some time, and he’d forgotten the arterial route to it from this end of the tunnels. A map materialised in his optical node, and he assessed the distance and route. He’d need his flyer.
Soon he was inside his machine, pointing it towards the outskirts of the eastern subterrene, which the larger establishments favoured, as the positioning at the entrances to and from the surface gave them first dibs at workers coming home from their days of labour.
He passed stallholders selling vegetable soups, synth meat and fried dumplings roasted on burners, served as a quick snack with hot piping kahawa. Kainan and the Elder Council had established the provision of low-priced vegetables from Dunia that the locals could buy and sell cheaply. This helped maintain some form of health and nutrition which was saying something, all considering.
He soon drew close to Raha, keeping a few streets back for anonymity. He parked his flyer in an abandoned corner and turned it and himself into stealth mode.
He walked swiftly, keen to return to the surface before it was too late in the day. He had shit to do before evening fell.
He strode past a group of young children buying sweets for a few schills from a stallholder. They danced off with glee at their purchases, stuffing their faces with the multi-coloured candy. Kage smiled.At least it wasn’t all hell and damnation for them.
The entrance to Raha was nondescript just as he remembered it. A rough handwritten sign announced its name. A wizened older man sat at the door, taking a small entry fee from the bar’s patrons. No one had established, in all the years of the bar’s existence, whether he was - or was not - Raha’s owner.
Kage swiped ten schills towards the man’s comm tab and slipped in behind a trio of drunk middle-aged Pikas lost in a slurred argument about the hiked prices of synth-hol these days.
He made his way past the huddles of men and women crowded around pots ofkuratinaandkanga, both potent brews sometimes laced with unpleasant chemicals. They pulled collectively from the pots using plasti-tubes, adding even more unsanitary flavours to the mix.
The bar was situated at the front of a midi tunnel that snaked downward in a steep elevation. He pushed past a host of more pickled Pikas and into the darkened passages, past a few lazy bouncers leaning half asleep against the wall.They didn’t make them like they used to, he thought, musing about his time spent here in the distant past.
Finally, his downward ascent ended in a sizeable artificial arena where a series of benches cut into the moon rock encircled a ring decked with sand. The place was heaving with a loud, boisterous crowd, shouting and cheering on the action at the centre of the lunar cave.
This was the real reason Raha was so infamous amongst the Pikas and underground rats of Eden II - its illegal fighting ring.
It was also where Kage had honed his brawling skills years ago. Then and now, anyone with or without fighting experience was welcome for the series of bouts that ran daily. The fights were so famous they attracted professionalkapofighters, sportspeople, holo news presenters, soldiers and even pirates. Poor, rich, stressed, distressed. They all mingled here, indulging in bare-knuckle slug fests that helped blow off the steam and frustration. It was a wild scene created by the wild for the wild.
The fights took place at different times every day. The audience would receive the announcement of a battle just hours before it would kick off. This way, Raha kept the risk of security raids low.
Each fight comprised five bouts. The rules were simple; all fighters were required to wear a pair of fight gloves, and there was no kicking, biting, or throwing punches below the belt. The winner was the last man standing at the end of the usually vicious rounds.
Because of the notorious nature of the fights, they also attracted the attention of most young Pika men, and the place was packed with a mad number of them. They fixed their attention on the ring where a lean surfacer was fighting a wiry Pika, exchanging kicks, punches, elbows, and knee strikes that had the crowd roaring. Schills changed hands fast as patrons bet on the outcome. Mini brawls broke out between punters and loan sharks, and the air was redolent with the distinct smell of sweat, beer and desperation. One Kage knew only too well.
He hopped to the centre of the highest rock seat, the best vantage point in the space. His sharp eyes soon found a young man with red streaked hair held in a bun waving about a synth-hol bottle and screeching at the top of his voice. Aran.
He was tall, gangly and deeply conflicted. His resemblance to the woman Kage had just met in the tunnels was uncanny. His man-bun was close to falling over his shoulders, and the suggestion of a ginger stubble subtly darkened his chin, barely visible against his pale lunar skin.
Kage stormed towards the raging youth, leaping over the rock benches and pushing past punters.
He finally got to the young man’s side and grabbed Aran’s collar from a higher elevation, hauling him up a level of seating to where he stood.
‘Oy!’ The younger man called out hoarsely in surprise. He struggled against Kage to no avail. He blinked at the stronger, brawnier Rider, his dark hazel eyes wide with shock.
Immediately, the other young Pikas surrounding Aran reared up at the sudden intrusion into their fun. High on ‘hol and fight mania, they rushed Kage. He used his free hand to flick their pathetic efforts away.
