Hungry, poor wretches of humanity starred out of dark alleyways, doors, windows and openly on the streets, at the bright lights and tall temporary buildings, which had sprung up among them. It was a strange sight, to see such wondrous things appear inside the gloomy, massive hive tower. They had set up inside of the only public square on tier two hundred eleven, which cut up into two tiers above it. For three days now, they had been setting up, shuttles arrive from the top of the hive, by way of a massive fright elevator, which was located on the edge of the public square. Everyone could remember when heavily armed troops from House Brakus, House Carmilia and House Damus had arrived, just before the strangers had, clearing the square with armored fists and then laying down a layer of clean ground slag from the factories below, covering over of slimy filth of the place.
It was the first time, since the hive had been raised, that all three of the ruling houses had worked together to get something done. Of course, it was no more then a slight effort to keep the populace from rioting. Recently, the factories had been ordered to double production, in order to complete with the other three hives on the continent. However, the increase in production was also leading towards an increase in fatalities. With workers dropping like flies, the common people were getting edgy, convinced that the high lords and ladies, just wanted to work them to death. Something needed to be done, without lowering the quotas or profits. Bring in one of the largest and well known interplanetary circuses, was an easy choice to make.
Cooper stood in front of the big top, his right leg twitching now and then, as he uneasily looked beyond the colorful energy barriers, bright with advertisements for his different performers and jarring against the dimness of the tier. Not for the tenth time today, he wondered if he had made the right choice in bringing his people to this planet. After the falling out with the royal family of Corsivin, had he been in the right frame of mind, when he went looking for their next job? Had he made a mistake because he wasn't thinking straight, bring those he held as close as blood kin, into a place he wouldn't feel comfortable in with a company of special forces troops? Such thoughts churned behind the calm pools of his liquid silver eyes.
In truth, the ringmaster was right to worry. Among the staring eyes of the volatile population, were the sharp stares of hive gangers. Tattooed and covered with piercings, men and women from the three main gangs watch the circus with hungry smiles. There was money to be made here. Things and beasts could be stolen from the outsiders. There were strong workers among them, who could be sold to the factories or shuttled off in the other main export from Roisdor, indentured persons, perfect for seeding new colonies or as cheep labor. Then there were the circus folk talented enough to be sold to the high lords, as personal entertainers or those who could be thrown into the sex trade.
The circus owner stared at the rows and rows of cages. One side on each cage was made from an energy barrier, much like what was lining the field but it was clear, allowing visitors to peer inside at the many strange and wonderful animals. It also allowed the animals to stare back at you. Many of them would make multiple attacks on the barriers in the weeks to come, as the masses shuffled past, taunting the beasts with their freedom. Then came the ranks of vender stands. Some travel with the circus, plying the crowds with exotic food or games of chance and skill.
Beyond the cages and venders, stood the main attraction. A trio of brightly stripped tents, the largest in the middle and flanked on either side by lesser tents. In there would the human and alien performers of the circus amaze the crowd or reduce them to fits of laughter. Once the night fell, the tents would be divided, as the freaks came out to play and the more exotic or erotic entertainers would take over. A wonderland for those who kept to the oldest forms of showmanship.
Behind the main attraction were tents belonging to the performers, roustabouts, lighting crews, cooks and the venders. There was also a kitchen and mess tent, ready to feed the battalion and keep them going. There were also storage units, for props and dividers. Corrals and cages for the beasts in the animal acts, which were connected to tubs leading into the main tents, stood in patient rows.
A reminder flashed across Cooper's eyes as the grinding and squealing of the fright elevator doors opening filled the air. The first wave of his performers was arriving on sight. As soon as they were settled into the tents (which were in fact small prefabbed plysteel huts, which could be set up in minutes), they would have to get ready for the opening night. He wanted the three weeks of performances to be over and done with quick.
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