Oreus felt sweat dropping from his brow. Two hours ago, he had been summoned to the Shelbo Hotel, the height of luxury for this layer, despite the damp walls, for a meeting with the Governor.
But now he was face-to-face with Bidget, her eyes bulging. She was at the opposite end of a round table in a large rectangular room. And worse, his battle chair was only lightly armed.
All he had to do was move his head a little to the left, and the battle would begin.
A sound of chatter, and the motors of battle chairs came from the four entrances. He knew them; they were the leaders of the other teams.
Brigid spoke, her voice full of venom. “It is a Gathering. Do not fire.”
Oreus nodded his agreement. A Gathering of the various teams was rare, and they were only held in the most extenuating of circumstances. Usually, though, they are held with much fanfare. Not in secret, and not like this.
Sure enough, the other team or tribal leaders appeared.
Auros, with a long white beard, went to Oreus’ left. He was short an ear that he had lost in battle a long time ago. He had clasped hands, and a curved spine like Timothy’s.
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