The Descent into the Maelstrom (The Phantom of the Earth Book 4) by Raeden Zen Page B

know.” Desaray nodded at a group of robotic waiters near the café stalls. “We’re still transhuman .” She teased her magenta nails through Pasha’s dark blue hair. “We still have those primal human desires and needs, you know—”
    The Granville sphere at the center of the table burst into a holographic world, lighting their faces. Oriana recognized Pasha’s work: a pond over a transhuman hand, and a girl and a boy with a tree, clouds, and lightning bursts over a blue-green pastoral landscape.
    “Looks like we’ve got a genius with us tonight,” Gaia said to Nathan, who agreed.
    Boom!
    Desaray screamed.
    Falcon Torres slammed his palms through the hologram, and it shattered and disappeared. “Looks like this is where the party’s at tonight.”
    He flashed his teeth at Oriana.
    She grimaced. Why, with thousands and thousands of tables, did Falcon choose to start trouble at theirs? Ursula Dearborne emerged from behind him. She artfully placed her hand behind his back, and he covered her fingers with his hand.
    “Guess you were right about her,” Falcon said. “She does look pathetic—”
    “I bet she gets bids before you,” Nathan said.
    “I wouldn’t,” Duccio said softly.
    Falcon grinned. “She couldn’t even lift her finger in a Granville world.” He leaned closer to Nathan, and Oriana smelled his alcoholic breath. “Care to place a wager on your prophecy?”
    “Forget it!” Pasha said. “There’s no candidate gambling allowed at the Harpoons!”
    Two more boys, unfamiliar to Oriana, flanked Ursula and Falcon. The boy on the left was even more muscular than Falcon, with reddish-hazel eyes and a cherry-colored mohawk. The one on the right sported animated tattoos of skulls that bit down on his arm as if they were feeding.
    Nathan moved his hand across his face and around, as if he were a holographic artist. A handful of benaris dripped from his palm. He rolled those that remained off his fingers onto the black-and-yellow neon table.
    “One million benaris says Oriana Barão is bid for ahead of you,” Nathan said, as calm as a Halcyon evening.
    “Don’t do this,” Oriana said to Nathan. “These guys aren’t worth it—”
    “A candidate is sworn by his word,” Ursula said, “and I’m no guy.” She twirled her hair between her fingers and leaned over the table, right hand extended. “Do we have an accord? The Barão girl over Falcon Torres. One million benaris. All or none.”
    Oriana stared at Ursula’s hand and at Nathan’s. She closed her eyes when they shook. Not real. Not real. Oh gods, oh gods, this isn’t happening.
    “Look at her,” the boy with the skulls said. He laughed. “She’s as scared as she was on the first day.”
    Oriana exhaled. I’m a champion . “I’ll receive the first bid.”
    Pasha turned, mouth open, eyes blinking.
    Oriana leaned forward. “I will be the Harpoon Champion, and you’re going to pay us one million benaris.”
    “Bring it,” Ursula said.
    She whipped her hair around and slung her arm over the cherry-mohawk boy’s shoulders, and he put his arm around her. Falcon’s nostrils flared. He grunted, spun around, and waltzed with his crew through the crowd at the center of the lounge.
    “Are you nuts?” Pasha said.
    “Are you?” Oriana said. “If we don’t believe in ourselves, no one else will.”
    “They’re being developed by the Variscans. ”
    “I don’t care if they’re being developed by the gods themselves, and neither should you.”
    The waiter arrived with their wine and rum shots.
    “And on that note,” Gaia said with an ear-to-ear smile, “I think a toast is in order for the next Harpoon Champion. ” She sang the words.
    Duccio ran his hand through his spiked hair. “Joy,” he said with a resigned smile.
    Pasha frowned but accepted the wine and the shot glass filled with a simmering, florid, luminous liquid from Gaia, as did the rest of the group. They raised their shot glasses. The lasers danced around