Charles Sheffield - Higher Education

There was another silence, while everyone stared at each other.

“We’re at Vanguard Mining’s medical facility, in New Mexico,” Chick Teazle said at last. “Least, that’s what the sign says outside the front fence.”

“And it’s telling the truth. But we lease our space from someone else. This land belongs to the Mescalero-Apache Sovereign Nation. You, Monkey, like me and everyone else, are governed by the laws of that nation while we’re here. Their laws and civil rights are not the ones you’re used to, but we like some of ’em a whole lot better. For instance, parental authority over children. Tess Shawm had every right to pop you one yesterday, when you told her she had great T&A and she’d make a good hooker. You’re lucky that’s all she did.”

Monkey gaped at him. Rick felt that his suspicion was confirmed. Absolutely no secrets here, of any kind, and therefore no privacy. There must be hidden monitors all over, too small and sneakily hidden to be found and smashed like the ones at school. This place was like a jail—worse than a jail! Nobody would dare hit a prisoner in a jail, or he’d be up on a dozen charges and have civil liberty lawyers biting his ass before he could turn round. The sooner Rick was out of here, the better.

“Does anyone else have a question?” said Bretherton at last. He had a grin on his battered face. “No questions? And no complaints? Well, then, let’s get on with the party. I suspect it’s the last one you’ll have for quite a while.”

He waved his hand toward a long table at the side of the room, loaded down with food and drink, and headed that way himself. Rick estimated the amount of food, counted heads, and made a decision. If he ran out for a quick trip to the head there would be plenty of everything left for him when he got back, and not so many people crowding round the table to get it.

He went in the opposite direction from everyone else, left the room, and headed along the white-walled corridor that led to his dormitory and beyond that to the men’s room. When he came out, thirty seconds later, he could already hear laughter from around the corner. The fun hadn’t taken long to start. He was hurrying back along the corridor when someone stepped suddenly out of the dormitory. Rick was grabbed by the shoulder, pulled into the dormitory, and spun back against the wall.

“In a hurry?” said a gruff voice.

It was Vido Valdez. Rick dropped into a defensive crouch.

“No fighting while the tests were on,” Vido went on. “But that’s all over now. Time for you and me to have a little talk, here where it’s nice and quiet.”

He was standing in front of Rick, hands raised. Rick knew from watching Valdez perform on the tests that he was fast. He was also a couple of inches taller, had a longer reach, and outweighed Rick by thirty or forty pounds. Rick assumed they both had plenty of streetfighting experience.

The only good news was the lack of knives and guns at the Vanguard Mining facility. This was going to be straight hand-to-hand—or foot-to-foot.

As Vido came at him Rick braced himself against the wall and kicked out with his heavy-shod right foot. His target was Vido’s testicles, but Vido sidestepped and grabbed for Rick’s leg. He almost had it. The only way that Rick could make him miss was to hurl himself forward, using the wall as a push-off point, and slam into Vido’s chest. His skull came up under Vido’s chin, but it was not a clean hit. He heard a grunt and knew he had done no serious damage. That was confirmed when he was pushed away one-handed and Valdez’s other fist came round to swipe him on the side of the head.

Rick jumped out of reach, ear ringing. He now knew for certain what he had suspected before: he could not compete with Vido for raw strength. And he was not sure he could compete on speed.

Valdez was coming in again, crouching to protect his head and testicles. Rick tried a stab with stiffened fingers at the eyes and only managed to hurt himself on Vido’s hard skull as the other ducked. An uppercut from Vido missed, but a second later his other fist delivered a swinging roundhouse punch to Rick’s other ear. For a second he could not see straight. The only way he could be sure that Vido would not hit him again was to close in and grapple body to body.

He hugged Valdez and tried to butt him and knee him. At the same time Vido was trying to knee Rick in the balls. Their legs tangled together and threw them both off balance.

Clutching each other, they fell to the dormitory floor. Rick’s head just missed the solid metal leg of one of the beds, but he landed on top.

He heard the wind whoosh out of Vido. He tried to follow up with a punch to the solar plexus, but they were too close for him to get any real force behind it. And then Vido had him in a bear hug and was squirming around so that Rick was underneath. He fought to get back on top, and they went rolling over and over until they came to the wall.

Rick was the unlucky one. He was on top when they met the wall, but that meant it was his head that smashed into the cement with the momentum from both of them. He lost his hold on Vido and saw stars. The next thing he knew he was flat on his back, wedged in the angle between floor and wall. He could not get his left hand free.

Vido was sprawled on top of him. He gave Rick one solid punch on the left cheek, then skinned his knuckles on the wall trying to hook with his other hand.

He swore and grabbed Rick around the neck. His thumbs dug hard into Rick’s throat. Rick bucked and jerked, but Valdez was too heavy and too well positioned. Rick could not dislodge him.

It was impossible to breathe. Rick groaned and gasped. His windpipe was constricted, the air passage cut off. He clawed at Vido’s wrists but he could not break the stranglehold. The strength was going from his hands as Vido steadily throttled him. His full weight was pressing on Rick’s chest. In another twenty seconds he became just a dark shape above Rick, squeezing ruthlessly.

And then suddenly he was gone. Rick, staring upward bulging-eyed, imagined a second and even bigger form looming over him. As he took in a first long and tortured breath, he saw that Valdez was standing in an uncomfortable crouch, one arm pinned behind his back and lifted toward his neck in a half-nelson hold. Vido was gasping in pain.

“I think that will do,” said a cheerful voice. A huge hand came reaching down toward Rick. “Here, grab hold. Are you all right?”

Rick was far from all right—but he was not going to admit that to Doctor Bretherton, and still less to Vido Valdez. “I’m—I’m fine. Bit—short of breath. Guess I’m still not in—top condition.” He straightened his clothes.

“Fine.” Bretherton had been holding Vido helpless, apparently without effort. Now he released him, and Vido grunted in relief. “So all three of us can get back to the others. One thing, though, for both of you. You’ve had your fun now, so there’ll be no more of this.”

“Who told you what was happening?” Vido asked. He was rubbing his chin, where a bruise was already forming. Rick decided it would be all right to massage his own sore throat and ears.

“Nobody told me,” Bretherton said. “I saw it coming. I knew you two would be at each other sometime, the first minute I saw you. I’m glad you held off until the tests were over, though. It would have been a shame to kick you out. And I would have. There’s no point in having rules if you don’t follow them. But do it again here, and you’re both history.”

“So we don’t get—get kicked out?” asked Rick.

“For a little fun? Of course not. What would a party be, without a bit of a fight?” Bretherton headed for the door of the dormitory. “It’s time for me to get back there. You, too, but take time to catch your breath. There’ll still be plenty of everything when you get there. Remember, though: it’s over.”