Seventh Ring: Part 8 - Employment

"Pass me those bandages."

"...dad?"

"Keep him still, I'm almost done here."

"...dad? What..."

"He's moving too much! Keep his arm still."

"...what's happening...?"

"That's it, I got it. Now pass me the Regeneryn and some more sedative."

"...I...dad..."

"Rest now. You'll make it."



Bird song filled the barn, making his ears twitch and eyes flutter open. The brightness of the sun was smothered by a dirty potato sack that had been nailed to the frame of his only window. Unfortunately, it did little to block out the heat. With a groan, Seven turned his head to look over his right shoulder from his mattress on the straw-covered floor. His eyes took a moment to focus on the slender, straight-backed figure that stood in the doorway to his stable room in the Drudge's barn.

"Who...?" he said groggily before trying to slowly sit up.

"I would not recommend you move just yet. Those bandages need to be changed and your wounds need more time to heal." The voice sounded intelligent and educated; not at all like what he was used to hearing around the farm. But he could not put the voice to a face, which had him on edge. Seven blinked hard to try and clear his vision and eyes of sleep. When they reopened, the owner of the voice was suddenly beside him holding a small tin tray. "Lay back and rest, please."

It was Two. He crouched on slender legs at his side and put a hand gently on his chest to encourage him to lay back down. Seven cringed at the touch, not because it hurt, but because he could not stop him. He did not want to be touched by anyone, but he could hardly even feel his real arm, so there was no way to fight back. He was defenseless and realized he had been for days.

"Why can't I move?" he asked. Two was already checking his bandages and preparing a syringe. Seven visually jolted at the sight of the needle. "Keep that away from me!"

"Calm down, this is just a pain killer. It's the reason you can't move very well, as it basically numbs your body and helps you sleep. And believe me, given the alternative and the extent of these puncture wounds, you'll want what's in this needle." Two reached to take Seven's biological bicep, but stopped when he saw him snarl. "Don't be a child. If I wanted to kill you or do further harm to you, don't you think I would have done so while you were unconscious?"

Seven relaxed his curled lips and thought about Two's logic. He was right. If he or William had wanted him dead, he'd have never woken up or made it back to the barn. Slowly, he allowed his arm to lower into Two's open hand. He didn't even feel the needle go in, but the pain killer that was released into his veins made him feel lighter and almost euphoric. His eyelids became heavy and eyes rolled back into his head as the vision of Two disappeared.



The next morning, Seven awoke to find himself alone in his room. The sun was just starting to rise, but the potato sack curtain over his window prevented him from seeing its light. With Two no where in sight, he sat up and immediately tried to stand. His muscles were weak and fatigued, and as he stood, he realized the pain killers had completely worn off. He used the wooden walls of his room to brace himself and stand wobbly on his feet. His hand found his side and felt the bandages that held him together. He groaned in pain.

"You're up early," said a voice. This time, he recognized it as Two's.

"So are you, apparently," Seven replied through clenched teeth. Except this time, his expression was one of pain rather than anger.

"Where were you planning on going, exactly? I see the pain killers wore off." Two spoke as he entered the room, both hands crossed behind his back. Seven wondered if he had been outside his stall the entire time, or if it was just a coincidence that he was passing through the barn at the same time he'd woken up.

"I need to move. All this laying around is making me feel sick." Seven steadied himself as Two approached his side. He reached to inspect his bandages, which made Seven flinch.

"Still jumpy, hmm?" he asked without looking up at his patient.

"Sorry, habit."

"I think you've healed enough to not bleed out if you walk around a bit. How about a bath?" Two stepped back and resumed his straight-backed, butler-like stance.

"A bath? Sure, I guess so." Seven looked at him just in time to see his nose wrinkle.

"You need one. You've been lying here for three days on a mattress that was filthy to begin with. Come on, I'll help you get down to the creek to wash up. Just try not to submerge your bandages when you rinse." Two waited for Seven to nod in agreement to both his suggestion and offer of help, before he placed an arm under his and allowed himself to be used as a crutch.

As Seven hobbled out of his room with Two at his side, he noticed that a chair and wooden crate were situated just outside the sliding stall door. Apparently, Two had played as not only his doctor, but his guard as well.  

Together, the two aliens managed to make it out of the barn and down to the creek. Two helped him remove his tattered, dirty clothes and escorted him down to the water's edge. The water was cold, but it felt refreshing to wash away the dirt, sweat, and dried blood that his skin had accumulated since the fight.

The warmth of the sun finally reached him as he was stepping out of the creek to rejoin Two, who stood patiently by with a towel on his arm.

“I should have a new pair of pants for you to wear back at the barn while these are washed. Are you hungry yet?” Two handed him the soft, clean towel and waited for him to finish drying his face and neck.

“Starving,” replied Seven as he continued to pat his body dry. He then wrapped the towel around his waist and watched as Two examined his bandages. This time, he did not flinch.

“Good, you didn't get them too soaked. Come on then, let's get you back to the barn.”

Seven followed him obediently and found he needed his help less this time than during their trip down to the creek. Two told him his strength returning and his increased appetite were both good signs of his body healing and responding to his treatments. It was a relief for them both.

As soon as Seven put on a clean pair of pants back at the barn, Two slipped quietly out into the farm yard and back to the house to fetch his breakfast. Seven took this time to himself to consider all that Two had done for him. He assumed he was his primary caregiver the past three days, and even now, he continued to care for him and treat him with a distant form of kindness. Considering the sneer and disapproving glares he'd received the first day they'd met at the auction house, Seven had assumed Two hated him. Perhaps he was wrong?

“Hey!” chirped a voice.

Startled, Seven approached his window and pulled the potato sack back to see Six's wide, toothy grin staring back at him. The Iboa waved at him before peering around to be sure no one had seen him.

“Six? What's up?” asked Seven curiously as he, too, looked around suspiciously, though he wasn't sure why.

“Oh nothing, just wanted to come and see ya and find out if you were okay. Two's been guarding your room like you were a prisoner and said you couldn't have any visitors.” One of Six's small, cat-like ears twitched and fell back. He was clearly listening for Two's returning footsteps.

“I see you're in a listening mood,” teased Seven as he looked back down at him.

“Hey! I've been good! Three and me have been keeping busy lately. But I guess you'll be busy soon too,” said Six quietly.

“What do you mean? Busy with what?” Seven watched as the other Drudge sank down in a crouch.

“Gotta go, Two's coming back. Enjoy your breakfast and save me some muffins!” Before Seven could agree or disagree to his request, Six had bounced off across the yard in a flash and disappeared into the cornfield that surrounded them. Seven left the window and settled down on the mattress to think over what it could be that he would be “busy with.” More fighting? He hoped not, especially so soon after his last match.

Two returned moments later with a large tray covered in an assortment of breakfast foods. Freshly cooked eggs and other meats, toast and muffins, a tea pot, and some various juices. He handed the tray to Seven while he retrieved the wooden crate and chair from outside his stall door. By the time he'd returned, Seven had already eaten most of the breads on the tray.

“Hopefully, you left me a couple of biscuits for my tea?” said Two curiously. Seven stopped stuffing his face and looked down at the tray. He nodded when he spotted them near the tea pot. He carefully set the tray on the crate Two had brought him and together, they ate their first meal of the day in silence.



Another day passed that was much of the same: bathe, eat, sleep, eat, sleep some more. By the third day of this routine, Seven was getting antsy. Not that he minded Two's company, but part of him would rather be tossed into the Ring again then spend another day eating and sleeping.

As he waited for Two to return from the house with his lunch, he thought again about what Six had mentioned about “being busy.” Was there repair work that needed to be done around the farm? Training? Fighting? Three didn't seem like the fighting sort, so he doubted he'd be mixed up in that. Six, however, was bought for the Ring. He'd told Seven the story about originally being bought for racing, as the Iboa people are infamous for their speed and dexterity on the ground. But racing wasn't nearly as profitable as fighting. Six had demonstrated his speed and skill when he sparred with Five. No gun could aim fast enough to shoot him, and few punches would ever meet him before he could dodge. Seven wondered if he would ever need to fight Six, or if that was against the rules since they would technically be on the same team.

Before Seven's mind could continue to worry, he heard the stall door to his room slowly slide open. He perked up, looking for Two and anxious for his meal, but was surprised to see the human girl, Ari, standing quietly in the doorway holding the large tray.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her eyes met his as she took a few steps towards him.

“Hey,” replied Seven. “Where's Two?”

“He asked me to deliver your lunch today. Did you need him for something?” Ari approached and set the tray down on the wooden crate that had acted as his dinner table all week.

“No, nothing like that.” Seven scooted closer to the crate to see what she'd brought him.

“Two told me you liked the duck and vegetable soup I made yesterday. And the pumpkin muffins.” Ari sat on the chair that Two had been using and watched Seven ignore her and start shoveling the muffins into his mouth. “They taste really good if you dip them in the soup.”

He looked up at her a couple of times as he ate, but said nothing. The Vesuleum often made him ravenously hungry in the days that followed any spike in the foreign chemical that coursed through his veins. It was his body's way of replenishing nutrients and burned calories from the surge of energy he released.

Ari sat and watched in awe as the meal was devoured in minutes. She'd never seen anyone eat with such ferocity or...slovenliness. Muffin crumbs and soup splatter were all over his face and the tray he ate over. When he finally sat back and met her eyes, he nodded his head, as if answering a question she didn't remember asking.

“Yes, the soup and muffins were very good. Thank you.” His praise and appreciation made her smile. It wasn't often she was complimented. Her eyes dropped from his to the plate of muffins and noticed that   there were two left.  “Are you finished?”

“No, those are for Six. He...really likes muffins, I guess.” Seven took the remaining sweet rolls and wrapped them in an unused napkin that had been splattered with droplets of soup.  Ari had wished he'd used it for its original purpose, but instead, he opted to use his forearm to clean his face and muzzle in one swipe.

Before Ari could respond, she turned her attention to the stable door when she heard the distinct sound of someone knocking. Her face lit up with surprise as she rose to her feet. Seven felt his body tense as he tried to see who she raced to greet. Surely, she'd never run to William that way, so it couldn't be him?

“He's in here,” he heard her say. She pulled in a human male by the hand that he'd never met before. Her attention soon returned to him. “Seven, I want to introduce you to someone. This is my brother, Lucas.”

As Lucas timidly entered the room, Seven noted how he looked nothing like what he'd come to expect of the human males on this planet. He was not well groomed or distinguished, like William and his business partners. His facial hair was scruffy and sparse around his chin and lips. He wore a gray, ratty old cap that had a long bill on the front to shield his eyes from the sun. Instead of a business suit, he had on a short-sleeved shirt that was stained with oil and grease, much like every piece of Three's clothing. His faded blue jeans were not in much better condition. If it weren't for signs of age on his face, Seven would have assumed he and Ari were twins, as they shared a similar facial structure and had the same light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Except Lucas' hair was shaggy, short, and shoved under his hat to hide the mess it had become.

The most noticeable detail about Lucas was that he looked nervous, which made Seven uncomfortable. His face did not look familiar, but his scent was something he'd caught once before during his stay at the farm. But where?

“Hi there, good to finally meet you while you're, you know, awake.” Lucas extended his hand to the still seated Seven, who stared at it questioningly. He retracted it after realizing how awkward his greeting may have sounded. “I'm sorry, that was probably weird. I'm just glad to meet you.”

Seven continued to stare at him. He was trying to place his scent, but his thinking face was nothing but blank and apathetic. It made his visitors very uncomfortable since they could not tell what was going on in his mind.

“So, anyway, Lucas is the one who makes all of William's gadgets and things,” said Ari in an attempt to break the silence and Seven's concentration.

“Yeah, I made his communicator, designed and constructed Marge's legs, the security system, the Drudge collars, a variety of other small electronic luxuries that William likes to show off to his friends--” Lucas couldn't finish his list before Seven was on his feet and in his face.

“YOU made this collar?” Seven loomed over the smaller human male. Ari stepped in before she had to endure another repeat of what happened to Three the first morning Seven had been on the farm. She put herself immediately between him and her brother. “Get this thing off of me. Now!”

“Calm down, Seven. Lucas only does what he's paid to do. The collars and their uses are under William's control.” Ari tried to settle him down, but she noticed his eyes never left Lucas'. She reached her hand forward to touch his chest, but Seven flinched away from her and growled.

“If he built these things, that means he knows how to get this off of me. I remember him now – you were there the night I had my first meal in the house. You helped him put this on me, didn't you? I should kill you!” Seven advanced towards Lucas again, but his concentration was suddenly broken by another voice.

“That won't be necessary and isn't recommended.” William appeared in the doorway. His presence demanded silence and order. But not with Seven.

“You.” Lucas took a step back from behind Ari as Seven spoke. He was relieved to have his temper distracted by someone else.

“As Ari said, Lucas is simply the toolmaker. He works for me, but is a long-time friend of the family. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.” William lifted his arm to check the time on his communicator. It was his subtle way of reminding Seven not to get too close. All it did was remind him of what William had done to him at the Ring.

“Why the hell did you fry me in the middle of a fight? Isn't that what you wanted? For me to fight? For me to win? You ruined the match!” Seven raged, but managed to keep himself from advancing any closer to William. His subtle warning did not go unnoticed.

“It was a simple rule that you obviously couldn't follow. I'm not stupid--you had no intention of letting that Cerasaur go.” William's words silenced Seven, as he could not argue that he had been in the process of breaking the rules. “You put on quite a show, though, which my audience enjoyed. Every new fighter in the Ring is pitted against a foe of similar size and ferocity, usually by surprise so they are caught off guard and can show their true potential without prior preparation. It's how we determine the class and skill of a fighter, as well as their entertainment value.”

“I'm not there to entertain them or you. I didn't even want to fight.” Seven snarled.

“It's not a matter of whether or not you want to. You are my employee, and you will work and fight for me when I tell you to.” William stared straight at Seven. Ari and Lucas decided to take a step back so they would not be in the way of anything that may happen.

“That's funny--I don't think employees are normally required to wear collars, just so they don't rip out their employer's throats,” replied Seven with a dark glare.

“Heh, depends on where you work,” Lucas said with a lighthearted chuckle. He had stepped up to stand in front of Ari, who slapped his arm for the comment as William and Seven's attention turned to him. “Err...sorry.”

“Perhaps this will make you feel a bit more like an employee.” As Lucas stepped back and out of the spotlight, William tossed a small, manilla-colored envelope at Seven's chest. He looked it over carefully before tearing open one end and dumping the contents into his hand.

“A card?” he said curiously, looking back at William. He put his anger on hold in favor of suspicion.

“A Credicard. After each fight, I will upload a portion of the winnings to your card for you to use on items from Culler's market. Two makes trips there rather frequently, so you can tell him what you want and give him your card to pay for it.” Seven examined the card and looked at William as he spoke.

“You're going to pay me to fight? Why?” He hesitated about asking the question, but he was genuinely surprised. He'd never owned a Credicard before, as the Kazekians often used fingerprints and implanted chips to hold their credit information.

“Why wouldn't I? As long as you do your part, I'll do mine. Don't think your cut is ever extravagant enough to buy a weapon or speeder, of course, but it's enough for some luxuries after a fight well fought. Two will inform you of the rules regarding your purchases, and he will not buy anything that he thinks may bring harm to you or anyone else on my property.” William checked his communicator again, only this time, Seven believed he was actually checking the time. “I want to make one thing absolutely clear—this is only good business, not a favor to you. I owe you nothing. You owe me everything. If you ever step out of line, I will kill you. If you hurt anyone on this farm, including Ari, Lucas, or any of your fellow Drudges, I will kill you. If you even try to get too close to me, I will kill you. Without hesitation. Without remorse. You are expendable to me, just like that Cerasaur I threw at you.”

Seven held the card so tightly in his hand that he worried about crushing it. Before he could respond, William turned his attention to Lucas.

“Examine his arm for me and make sure it was not damaged in the fight. And explain to him what it is he'll be doing until I return from space. His next match will be in a couple of weeks, assuming Brooks doesn't back out after seeing him in action the other night.” William smiled knowingly. Seven wasn't sure if he should take his comment as a compliment or not. “And Ari, I want you to help Four around the house since he'll be Lucas' assistant soon and won't be able to tend to all of his other chores while he's helping him.”

Lucas shook William's hand and nodded, while Ari stayed back and looked up at Seven. His body was tense and his hands were clenched into tight fists. He didn't relax until William had left the three of them alone in his room.

“Well, now that that's settled, let me get a look at that arm.” Lucas turned to Seven hopefully, but was met with a growl.

“The only way you're touching me is if it's to remove this collar. No one touches my arm but my father.” Seven turned away from them both and walked slowly back to his mattress on the floor. He tossed his Credicard on the straw pile beside his pillow, then sat.

“Huh. Well, have it your way.” Lucas stepped in front of Ari, who continued to watch as Seven rubbed at his bandages. “If you change your mind, let me know. Otherwise, Three and Six are going to need your help soon.”

“With what?” Seven spoke without looking at him. He was preoccupied with the blood he could faintly see forming on his side.

“With building my new workshop near the house. It's a project he didn't want to start until after your first fight, in case you were killed or something. He wants me to be your personal 'maintenance guy.' Or, well, your arm's maintenance guy, I guess.” Lucas smiled, but Seven rolled his eyes in reply.

“Oh, well that's just great.”