I don’t linger long. I can’t see what’s in the crates, and besides, the longer I stay the greater the chance Laura will discover my presence and do something precipitous. She likely suspects that I’m here already, she’s a smart girl, but there’s no point in letting her know for sure by doing something stupid and getting caught. It’s one thing to let her think I’m an idiot, but it’s quite another to give her video evidence.
The dead Veeni assassin is gone by the time I get back to the observation deck. Bucky is there and he has Janine with him. “Well, look who decided to grace his own tryouts,” she says.
I ignore her and turn to Bucky. “So, what else do we have on the list?”
“Well, we could use a defensive line. I’ve seen some solid picks here and there, but we need unit cohesion.”
“Hire that one we saw earlier, the one that stuffed that offense.”
“Okay. Did you find out how they did that?”
“Nope. I don’t want to know, either.”
“You feelin’ okay?” Bucky asks. “You usually want to know the details on things like that. Getting enough sleep? Sometimes I turn into a big fat dumbass if I don’t get enough shuteye.”
I leave that one alone. “No, just a lot on my mind.” As in, what the fuck is in the crates? Can’t be Edochian tech, no matter what they’re calling this truce or cease-fire or whatever. So, what are they transporting? Is Chippers behind it? Does he even know about it?
I can’t say anything, because that’ll confirm that I was where I wasn’t supposed to be. I’ll probably have to be killed for knowing, or some spy shit like that. I realize then that I didn’t see any Edochians in the cargo transfer. No stick-like aliens. Just Laura and her floating crates. How come? The shuttle likely came from the cruiser parked nearby. That means First Consortium, which doesn’t make any sense. They hate humans more than any species in the universe.
I notice that Bucky is waiting for me to finish thinking. I shrug. “Sorry.”
“I ain’t seen you think this hard about something since the time you were trying to figure out how to tell Laura about the Veeni’s wife.”
“This isn’t like that,” I tell him, “and thank you very much for bringing that up.”
“Uh-huh.” He squints at me. “It’s got to do with Laura, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but –”
“I can always tell. You never stick your tongue out when you’re thinking, except when it’s about Laura.”
“It’s not – what? I stick out my tongue?”
“Yep. A wee bit, off the side of your mouth, like this.” He demonstrates.
“Christ, I must look like an idiot when I do that.”
“I think it’s kind of cute,” Janine says.
“Really?”
“Yeah, almost makes you seem human.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger. They’re touching. “Almost.”
“So, not at all.”
“Gotta start somewhere,” she says. “I’ll let you know when you get to the level of a single-celled organism.”
I scowl to hide a grin. “I was beginning to like you, and now you’ve gone and ruined it. Bucky, hire that defensive line, but get enough second stringers to fill the holes we’re going to get. I’m guessing EMP bombs or something. Those will only work for one game, maybe two, and then everybody’s going to wise up. What else?”
“I found us a great kicker. But there’s a bit of a snag.”
“What kind of snag?”
“He’ll need his parents to sign a waiver for him.”
***
Dexter Cribbens is a lanky boy with lots of zits. Bucky ushers him onto the observation deck, one hand on his shoulder, steering him over towards me. He introduces us. I nod at the boy instead of shaking his outstretched hand. Cribbens shoves his hands into his pockets, his body awkward and his face downcast, like I’d just fired him.
For fucks sake, I don’t need this shit. “How accurate are you?” I ask.
“I can plant the ball wherever you want,” he says, his voice cracking.
“Jesus Christ, how old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
“And your folks are okay with this?”
“My mom’s crazy about spaceball. My dad’s not around.”
“Uh-huh. Do you have a chaperone in mind?”
The kid’s face reddens. “I don’t need–”
“Bullshit,” I cut him off. “You’re a hormonal express train in the craziest part of the universe. You are not stepping outside of your quarters without a goddamn shadow. You will agree to that or you go home.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll pay you the standard league rate for a kicker. I forget what it is. But you will not receive a single credit of it until after the Tournament. We’ll pay your living expenses, but I don’t need a teenager going fucking bananas out here on a player’s salary. Understand?”
He doesn’t look happy at first, but then it dawns on him that he’s getting a job. “So, I can play?”
I draw a deep breath, exhale, inhale, and then sigh. I’m going to hell. No question about it. I might as well have signed this kid’s death warrant. I should make sure he’s worth the trouble, though. “You can try out. Jury’s out on whether you can play, until I see you kick the ball like you say you can. Bucky, get him set up, and find a shadow for him.”
“Why me?”
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“Because he was your idea.”
***
I don’t want a teenager on the team, but don’t want to say no to Bucky outright, so I make sure the kid will fail. Bucky and I stand on the observation deck and watch Cribbens come onto the field alone. A spaceball rests in the tee clamp 50 meters in front of him. I watch him line up on the ball and I say over the ASC, “First thing I want you to do, is put that ball in the designated area on your HUD. It’ll be the little blue circle.”
“What?” Cribbens objects. “That’s a 950-meter kick! The target’s only 5 meters in diameter!”
“You said you could put the ball anywhere I wanted,” I remind him.
“Yeah, but within reason.”
“You’re lucky it isn’t smaller. Oh, and no suit assist on the kick, either.”
“WHAT?”
“You heard me, boy. Don’t ever count on your suit doing the work for you. Shit breaks all the time.”
Bucky snorts. “Better not let Laura hear you say that.”
I mute the ASC and tell him, “You shut your goddamn trap. I’m still not happy about this.” Back to Cribbens, I say, “Kid, you’re lucky I told you no assist up front, instead of rigging your suit without telling you.”
Silence on the comlink. Cribbens stands there for a minute, and then he bounds forward. One step, two, three, and then cranks on the ball.
I would be remiss if I didn’t explain that this is where spaceball gets all wobbly weird. See, a ball kicked or thrown in space is going to keep going and going until it encounters another object or that object’s gravity. If spaceballs did that, the game would be one penalty after another for intentional spacing. So spaceballs fake gravity. The ball considers its point of origin the zero plane. It calculates its initial velocity and direction and then adjusts accordingly to return to the zero plane at the end of its journey. Kick a rock in space, and it will sail onwards forever. Kick a spaceball in space, and it will arc, slow down as if air friction were being applied, and even bounce on the zero plane. Seems complicated, I know, but it keeps everybody from getting turned all upside down. Players carrying the ball can drop below the zero plane and still be considered inbounds, but the ball won’t go there by itself until the next throw.
So, I watch, dumbfounded, as the ball rises up in a glorious arc and then falls back towards the zero plane in a grand half circle. It lands in the target zone. Bounces straight up down a few times, and finally comes to rest. It’s less than a meter from the center point.
“What the –” I breathe.
“Told ya,” Bucky says.
“BULLSHIT!” I shout. The ASC channel is still on, but I don’t care. I’ve never seen anything like it without a suit assist.
“I’m looking at the readouts right now,” Bucky says, holding up a holographic vidpad with a three-dimensional image of Cribbens’ suit. A crapload of datapoints scrolls by that nobody ever reads. Well, maybe Laura reads that shit. All I care about is how many parts of the suit are blinking red. “No assist, Rick. Cribbens did it on his own.”
There’s a reason I’ve never seen anything like that without a suit assist. Players don’t do shit like that. Victory tilts on these types of plays, and it’s harder to prove if done without suit assist. If there’s no proof, coaches have to challenge the play. I don’t want to challenge a play. Ever. Coach’s challenges involve actual duels. The convoluted ruleset around them grinds games to a halt. The League usually bribes coaches into rescinding challenges due to lost advertising revenue.
“I take it I did okay,” Cribbens says over the ASC.
I press my palm against my forehead. Hell. There’s a special place carved out for me. I know it. “Yes. Welcome to the Clippers. Try not to die.”
***
Laura drops by the observation deck soon after. Some sort of bluish liquid stains her overalls. I’ve never seen bluish liquid around any suit. She isn’t carrying a power drill, and that makes me happy. Does she know I spied on her in the cargo hold? She must know. She always knows. She doesn’t look angry, though. I bet she’s saving it up for later, when I least expect it.
“You should hear the rumors floating around here,” Laura says. Her tone is accusing. “People are saying you just hired a ten-year-old kicker.”
I make some pretense out of inspecting my fingernails. “Fifteen, actually.”
“What’s that goo all over ya?” Bucky asks. “You slaughterin’ smurfs downstairs?”
“What are smurfs?”
“Blue trolls. They’re about ten centimeters tall and wear funny hats.”
“Sounds childish.”
“Well, they’re all male except for one lucky gal.”
“A gangbang, then. That explains why you like them.” She turns back to me. “Rick, tell me about this kid you’re trying to murder.”
“Hey! It’s not like I went looking for him. These are tryouts. Anybody can come and tryout.”
“Isn’t there a minimum age to play league ball?”
“Nope.” I pause. “Bucky, find out if there’s a minimum age to play league ball.”
“On it, boss,” he says. On his way out, he makes a point of examining Laura from head to toe. “That’s a good look for you, by the way.”
“What look?”
“The overalls. Too snug to be wearin’ pants underneath. One tug on the buckles and the whole thing gives way. Very sexy, makes a man wonder if you’re wearin’ any unmentionables or anyth–”
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
He leers at her. “Every day, little lady.”
After he’s gone, she says, “I’m starting to question the intelligence of that fiancée of his.”
“Mmmm.”
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I have an unbearable urge to tug on your buckles.”
“Bear it, or you’ll be jerking off with your feet for the rest of your life.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“The kid, Rick?”
I throw up my hands. “Look, it wasn’t my idea. Bucky brought him in. I tried to make him fail, made him do a 950-meter kick without suit assist. He planted the ball within a meter of the target.”
Laura looks impressed. “Wow. But a teenager, Rick? Is that necessary?”
“I’m holding his salary for the season. He has to have a chaperone.”
“Really?”
“You look surprised.”
“Well, I didn’t think that you would, well –”
“I’m not a total asshole, you know.”
“Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back just yet.” She smirks. “We’ll see if he survives the first game.”
She turns to leave, and I think I’m off the hook. She’s not going to bring up the cargo hold, she’s saving it. Then she turns back and raises a finger. I knew it.
I blurt, “You know I can’t stand it when you keep secrets from me.” Laura turns back, her expression surprised. I keep going, “Of course I was going to try to find out what completely illegal shit you were smuggling in on a goddamn Edochian ship. Are you trying to get us all killed? What if Fleet finds out that you’re working with them? They’ll blow us to smithereens.” Her expression shifts to angry, and then to the cold rage I’d seen in the Mall’s detention block. I realize she hadn’t known I was snooping on her. Now I’m going to die. I plow on, “What’s in the cases, Laura? What the fuck are you doing with Edochians? They blew up Earth, for fuck’s sake!”
She crosses her arms. “And they’re protecting this field, are they not?”
“That’s not my doing!” I shout. “That’s all Chippers, and it’s not like I have a choice in that! But you! You … You’re getting help from them!”
“It’s not what you think. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t think so. There’s nothing to gain.”
“How about my trust?”
She laughs. It sounds bitter. “When have you ever?” she asks, half to herself. “How about you let me run your suits, and I won’t have any more dealings with the Edochians.”
“Because you’ve already got what you want from them.”
“Well, there is that.”
I turn away from her and look out the observatory window, but I don’t register anything I see. She’s slipping away from me again. Not that I had a firm grip on her to begin with, but it’s nice to have her around. Pain in the ass that she is. Laura makes living fun. Exciting, frustrating, insanely maddening, sure, but fun. After this is all over, I’ll have to take another six months in a stasis tube to recover. If we survive. Chippers getting Edochians to guard the field is one thing. Publicity stunt if I ever saw one. But the humans on Freehaven won’t take kindly to us openly working with the aliens, and most of those humans are bloodthirsty pirates.
“You’re not making this easy for me, Laura,” I say. I can see her blurry reflection in the window. “I didn’t realize that when I asked you to run my suits, I had to include a clause prohibiting you from enlisting the aid of our sworn enemies.”
I hear her sigh, and then sense her at my side. I don’t dare turn. I’m afraid that I’ll break this spell, whatever it is. “We need what I got today, Rick,” she says. “We can’t win without it.”
“What is this ‘it’?”
“I can’t tell you.”
I round on her. “Can’t, or won’t?”
Laura looks up at me. Her green eyes stop my heart. They’re open and vulnerable and I see hurt and loss and hope and fear and despair and a deep well of determination. For a moment I forget that two days ago she shot me. Then that all goes away, replaced by the lopsided grin she gets when she’s trying to hide herself. “Won’t, of course,” she says. She reaches out and touches my face. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t let anything hurt you.” No sarcasm or patronizing tone. She meant it. Then she snatches her hand back, startled. She squints at me and her tone sharpens. “I’ll let you know when the suits are ready. Don’t go snooping around again. It’s for your own safety.”
I watch her go. Aha.