Back in his quarters, Raul calls room service and asks them to send up another trenchcoat and some more ammunition. He loosens up the Kevlar weave back to cotton and pulls off the body armor.
The cut on his leg bleeds into the bed, Raul winces, picking up his needle and threading it. He warms it up with a match and begins to sew the cut up.
There will be more fighting soon, Raul grinds his teeth as the needle goes in and out. Goddamn Mengele. Kevlar weave, no real support, it hadn't held up to the knives. In fact, projectile weapons did not seem to be a major concern here. If he wanted to be ready next time it is clear that more research is in order.
Well, the thinks, tying off the ends of the stitches, the first part would be to follow the money. Raul could stalk individual competitors all day, and if it wasn't the person he would be lined up against next or that person didn't display combat maneuvers, it would be for nothing. Better to start by investigating the broader system.
Raul pulls on his jeans and walks to the door, taking it and pulling it open.
"Your equipment, sir," the ferris wheel operator holds up his new coat and ammunition. Raul smiles and takes them.
"Thank you" and he pulls the trenchcoat on, sliding ammo into his pockets.
At the sponsor's tent they are handing out samples and doing everything to plug the backers, Raul decides that seems like a fine place to start, asking one of the attendants there "What can you tell me about Consolidated Fearscapes?"
"Consolidated Fearscapes is a company that specializes in the creation and customization of parallel realities. Dimensional Engineers. They provided all of the arenas, and even built the meta-dimension in which we exist now."
"Meta-dimension, what are you talking about?"
"Well, obviously there are parallel fights that happen simultaneously, since the main backer of this event is involved in creating parallel dimensions, this one dimension in which we exist at the moment ties into every conceivable version of the battle dimensions, and depending on which one will be better for the sponsors, shows off the dimension better, it is the one that will eventually get uploaded into the main meta-dimensions that a layman would typically perceive as reality and sold there as entertainment and to sell products."
"Like CandyLand Truffles?"
"CandyLand Truffles are a delicacy in 80% of the dimensions we broadcast to, they have a booth here, you can try them if you haven't before."
"Maybe," Raul nods, "But what about the Christian Identity?"
The attendant looks through her paperwork, "It does not seem that they have a booth here."
"How did they get on the sponsor list?"
"It seems," she shuffles the paper a little more, "That they donated a contestant. He did quite well in the first round, one of the dimensions he was victorious in was chosen for the lineup. Some of the contestants are doing autographs later, I can see if this 'Raul' would be available if you would like."
His jaw slackens, and he mutters out, "I don't think he'll be available for autographs," before wandering out of the tent.
He had wanted a little intel, but this was too much. Not only did the Christian Identity conspire to get him out of his own dimension, where they could now be doing God knows what without the Mutant Inspirational Liberation Front to stop them. The whole base raid had been a trap, nothing but a trap. And they had fallen hook line and sinker.
What was happening to Alice right now? What about August? Was anyone still alive? He had to know, he had to get home.
But to do that, Raul knows, he has to win this tournament.
Which makes the news about the parallel arena dimensions even more troubling. It meant Mengele was still out there, and that he probably wanted revenge.
Raul picks up a chicken kabob as he begins to return to his room, casting his eyes over alternating shoulders on every third step.