Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

holos. Didn't think anyone had. They're supposed to be extinct!"
    No," said Finn. "There was just the one left; preserved inside a stasis field, in a university museum on Shannon's World. No access to anyone, except the very highest xenobiologists. But apparently the museum found itself wry short of funds, and the Board made an incredibly generous offer . . . Even after today's takings the Board will lose money on the deal, but you can't buy publicity like this. And of course there's broadcasting rights, holo tapes . . ."
    "This is sick!" Brett said sharply, so angry he actually forgot to be afraid of Finn. "Even the Wild Rose doesn't stand a chance against a Grendel! This isn't a duel, it's a death sentence. It's murder. The only human ever to have gone one-on-one with a Grendel and survived was the blessed Owen! Look at the bloody thing . . . death on two legs and proud of it. Please God, they've got a regen tank standing by ...
    and a doctor that likes jigsaw puzzles."
    "Be quiet, Brett," said Finn. "And lower your voice. You are attracting attention. Sit back, and enjoy the match. Rose is special. A genuine, dyed-in-the-wool psychopath. Very rare, in this sane and civilized era.
    And just what I need."
    "And if she doesn't survive?"
    "Then she isn't what I need. Now hush. The curtain's going up."
    And as suddenly as that, the match was on. The Grendel surged forward, moving impossibly fast, and the Wild Rose went to meet it with a happy smile on her crimson lips. They slammed together, and sparks flew as Rose's sword clashed harmlessly against the Grendel's reinforced silicon armor. Its steel claws sliced through the air where Rose's throat had been a moment earlier, and then the two killers sprang apart again, circling each other slowly. The alien towered over the human, but it would still have been hard to say which of the two looked the more dangerous. Brett was breathing faster already, his heart hammering in his chest. He had no time for the Arenas, but this . . . this was something special.
    More than just a duel, much more than some arranged match. This was something much more personal.
    Not human against alien, but monster against monster.
    Her long sword flashed forward, and the point dug deep into the Grendel's momentarily exposed joint.
    Rose snatched her blade back before the creature could catch it, and the Grendel's dark ichor spotted the sands. First blood to the Wild Rose, and the crowd went crazy. The Grendel leaped forward, impossibly fast, and Rose couldn't get out if its way fast enough. A sweep of a clawed hand sent her sprawling, hitting the sands hard, blood flying from her lacerated ribs. Brett winced. The crowd went crazy all over again. They needed to see blood, and they didn't much care whose. Rose was already back on her feet, circling the Grendel slowly while carefully keeping out of its reach. Blood ran steadily down her heaving side. She was still smiling. Brett studied her pale face, huge and luminous on the giant vidscreen, and saw nothing human in her gaze or in her smile.
    He glanced at Finn, sitting easily in his chair, unmoved by the ferocity of the match or the howling crowd, and Brett knew that there were three monsters present at the Arena today.
    Rose darted in and out, stabbing at the angles of the Grendel's joints, the only real weak points in its armored protection, somehow always that little bit too fast for the Grendel to stop her. It was huge and fast and very powerful, but little by little, as the cumulative damage increased and the blood flowed out of it, the Grendel began to slow. Its claws still drew Rose's blood now and again, but never anywhere vital, never anywhere that mattered; and Rose didn't give a damn. She was in her element now, doing what she was born to do. The Grendel didn't even consider giving up or retreating; it had been designed long and long ago to fight and kill, and it knew nothing else. But its attacks were slowing visibly now, and its wide head swung back and forth, as though puzzled by its inability to kill this bloodred phantom that darted forever just outside its reach.
    Rose sensed its confusion and moved in for the kill. The crowd was on its feet now, cheering and screaming. Brett was standing too, driven there by the pride in his heart, at the sight of a lone human defying the ancient alien legend of destruction. He shouted and screamed Rose's name till his throat hurt, all but jumping up and down. Rose went for the Grendel's throat,