Chapter Forty-Seven

The next few days were good ones to say the least. I attended class, wrote a few stories, answered a lot of questions, and went to work to tell a lot of stories and answer a lot of questions.

But when I wasn’t doing that, I was fielding requests from all quarters, I will relay a few.

“No, I don’t mind if you send somebody to the next game to measure the heads of various dlamisans to create custom helmets, but you could just as easily get the specifications for sizes from our military and save yourself several hours and the travel expenses.”

“No, I do not mind if you come out and get foot sizes and anatomy charts to figure out the optimal footwear design for a dlamisan athlete, but we don’t normally wear shoes at all, if you really need it, reach out to Captain Bonny through the embassy, the scouts do wear footwear a lot and she can save you time and money, maybe she’ll even have some examples you can buy.”

“Yes, I can do an interview, but everything has to go through the Barnum Cooperation. They will arrange it…”

I spent a lot of time at the kitchen table, and Fauve never seemed to lose that satisfied expression, though she was ‘ever so sweet’ about my sudden leap into the public eye… again.

The reason for my sudden renown was the handing over of the lion’s share of the credit for the invention of Ballyball, though I passed some back to Coach Wills for some impromptu innovations, maybe I can honestly say I did deserve most of the credit. Even if it did come to mind in a drunken stupor.

In retrospect, alcohol probably explains most forms of human sports, so it was fitting that the newest craze would originate the same way, from a dead man and his bottomless budget for booze at his final gathering.

I think Percival would have approved.

The sport however, gained instant international fame, it was the first of its kind, a sport that required cooperation between humans and aliens, and it was something that both of our worlds wanted.

I spent hour after endless hour balancing my efforts between writing up my findings, conducting interviews, and scheduling new games… and there were so many demands for games… I barely had time for anything else.

Fauve became my self-appointed secretary in the house after she heard that string of calls, confiscating my datapad and rerouting calls to her own.

Rebecca of course, set down some firm limitations. “All schoolwork must be completed daily. All chores must be completed daily.” Things of that nature.

We still hadn’t had any further incidents or threats to the house or the family, but with my renewed prominence thanks to being live streamed all over the world for several hours straight, both my government and that of Earth decided security should continue for the time being.

Getting Captain Bonny Red a space for drinking and carousing was easy, muttering the words ‘efficiency’ and ‘safety’ to my people’s ambassador was all it took to get a few shipping containers set up as an impromptu bar that I would help with stocking… and of course introducing the crew to the vast variety of alcohol that Earth had to offer… but that is a story for the next volume.

I still had to make sure that Boatswain and his companion weren’t shipped off world, but within a month of submitting my conclusions to Professor Sxlith he signed off on them and transmitted my short term study of human/dlamisan cooperative efforts back to the University along with one more thing.

The raw footage of the games. I didn’t know he’d done it until I was sitting at the dinner table with Fauve and she was reading off the latest requests routed through Teresa for a meeting with the heads of several different investors.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“...So as I was saying, it seems that someone gave the major cooperations of sports investments and manufacturers the idea that you were the only dlamisan shareholder for the first Ballyball sports league and that you were the only one the embassy would listen to about bringing more of your species to Earth to sign on to play the game.” Fauve said it with sarcasm so thick and rich that I could have smothered it on the hotcakes William made dadjokes over.

But I was lost. “How exactly…?”

“It probably has something to do with a cooperation being formed in a human’s name and then naming you the chief recruitment officer. The two million in credits deposited into the account and the public disclosure required by law probably helped.” Fauve answered and then handed me an envelope. “This came for you today too.”

“What is it?” I asked, it had an actual digital seal on the face of it.

“The Ballyball League incorporation paperwork. You still need to sign it.” She said as if I would have some clue as to what she was talking about.

I stared at her probably looking every bit as dumb as I felt.

“No, not me. Well, I had help.” Fauve admitted, “I asked dad, mom, and Teresa. I promised her two million credits out of my inheritance from Mr. Barnum if she would put down the seed money and help get it popular with sponsorship and franchises and… all that other stuff I don’t know enough about yet to do myself. I had the idea, but I couldn’t do it without people who could pull it off. Dad suggested making it into a cooperative and giving you a position that would make a bunch of rich humans want to keep you here. Mom had a friend of hers in the accounting department of her workplace help put the banking paperwork together to get it registered.”

“So… what exactly does all this mean?” I asked.

“It means Ballyball is an official sport now, that means you can name official teams to different cities all over the world, and because it has to have dlamisans or some other similar alien species to play it the way it’s made, that means there’ll be a bunch of people who want to open up immigration and get work visas for more of your people to settle here. And it means you can get a long term work visa from your government that’s even better than your student visa.”

Before I could respond, I got the ding of a message from the University staff.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as soon as I saw it.

Fauve knew what it was before I told her.

“What is it…?” She asked, and I swear that if she’d been made of glass, she would have cracked, “What does it say… please… Please don’t make me wait to find out…” Fauve never begged for anything, and this was about as close as she would ever come.

Her eyes welled up and she did her best to blink them back as I silently read the message. I admit, I felt a flash of guilt run through me for making her worry so much before.

So I read quickly, faster than I’d ever read before. Then I read it again, out loud.

“...Extraordinary footage…”

“The most remarkable example of interspecies cooperation we have seen since the gaxa serpent incident…”

“Proof positive that firm bonds, not firm borders, make good neighbors…”

I slowly lifted my face but I kept my eyes on the words.

“We find that while ample study remains to be done due to the very limited and short term sample size, the only way to effectively conduct further research into interspecies relations is to have familiar eyes on the ground that have already established the systems and methods of said studies. Therefore we withdraw from consideration the motion to have the locally identified student ‘Bailey Walker’ removed from the planet Earth prior to the completion of his fifty year study… contingent of course upon the peace between apex predatory species continues without concern for his safety.”

“Wait, so… does that mean…?” Fauve let the question hang, I could see her chest rising and falling as she threatened to hyperventilate where she stood.

“I’m staying.” I said. I shot to my feet. “I’m staying! I don’t have to leave!” If I were capable of tears of joy, I would have shed them.

All my hearts raced into my throat and I let out a wild and joyful “Roooooooooo” and Fauve jumped against me with all her weight and squeezed me tighter than I thought she was capable of.

“Yaaaaaaaay! I gotta go tell mom and dad!” She shouted and rushed for her datapad to call them wherever they’d gone off to, I’d honestly lost track of their errands in the rush of everything, but I knew they’d be ecstatic.

Byron and Boatswain were on duty outside and heard the commotion, rushing into the house, Fauve yelled, “He gets to stay! He gets to stay! Bailey gets to stay!”

I wish I could remember everything.

I really do.

But I didn’t record it, and it was such a wild day from there on out that all I remember was an endless series of howling “Roooooooos” that carried on not only from dlamisan throats, but from those of human ones as well, and somehow, that just made it all the sweeter.