Free Imperial Bounty by William C. Dietz Page A

wondered why the assassins didn't attack? Because I ordered them not to, that's why. And I can cancel that level-three license altogether. Then you could even earn that bounty you're after. In fact," she added, leaning forward eagerly, "I'll add fifty thousand credits to whatever they've offered you."
    "That's a lot to pay for not finding someone," McCade said evenly.
    Claudia laughed. "You misunderstand me. If my brother's alive I do want him found. Better now than later." She paused for a moment, tapping the stylus against the palm of her left hand. "Yes, if he's alive, I want you to find him, and then I want you to kill him."
    A chill ran down McCade's spine, and he sat speechless. He'd expected her to be hard, but not cold-blooded. Maybe the Emperor had known what he was doing after all. Whatever Alexander was like, he couldn't be as bad as his sister. She was waiting, so he tried to come up with a reply, but was saved by the resonant male voice which suddenly filled the coliseum. "Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the Empire, fellow sentients of all races, welcome to the finals of Three-Dimensional Combat. Today's games are brought to you by Princess Claudia."
    Right on cue, a boxy-looking robocam floated silently up and over the edge of the terrace, zoomed in on the princess, and flashed her picture to the thousands of holo tanks located throughout the arena. She smiled and waved. A roar of approval filled the coliseum. McCade was suddenly reminded of what he'd heard about the ancient Roman emperors. They too had traded games for public approval.
    Then the camera was gone, and the announcer's voice flooded in over the applause. His voice had taken on a decidedly somber tone. "After months of bloody combat . . . only two of the original thirty-two teams remain. Many have died, or suffered permanent disfigurement for the sake of our entertainment. Others have fought valiantly but lost . . . and now dwell on some distant prison planet. I ask you, one and all, for a moment of silence, during which we can pay our respects to those who have fallen, or lost everything but their lives." His voice echoed away into stillness as the moment of silence began. McCade noticed Claudia was using the stylus to beat out an impatient rhythm on the edge of the table. The clicking sound seemed amplified by the surrounding silence.
    Then the announcer was back, cheerful now, as he warmed up the audience for the coming events. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, fellow citizens and sentients, prepare yourselves for the unbelievable spectacle of the 3-D finals, as our skilled warrior teams take their respective positions. At the north end of the coliseum . . . it is my honor to introduce the Green Rippers!"
    A tremendous cheer went up, as a forest of green lasers flashed, pulsed, and rippled across the north end of the playing field. Loud pulsating background music filled the air, its heavy bass beat throbbing and ominous, quickly building toward a climax of sound. As the climax came, so did a brilliant flash of green light, which slowly faded from McCade's retinas to reveal the Green Rippers. There were nine altogether. Each was dressed from head to toe in green. Three wore light armor and anti-grav belts which allowed them to hover in midair. Below them were three more, dressed in heavy-duty body armor suitable for fighting on the ground. They sat on three-wheeled vehicles. Rocket launchers had been mounted right in front of the drivers. The last three members of the team wore medium-weight armor and jump paks. McCade quickly realized they would make or break their teams. Their jump paks would allow them either short hops in the air, or sustained ground combat, whichever they chose. So being the most versatile players, they would be the most critical.
    As the applause died down, the announcer came on once again. "And entering the south end of the coliseum—still undefeated after weeks of grueling combat—are the Red Zombies!" There was a