The lights in the studio drilled down on Phoebe's brow. Her face was covered in makeup so thick it felt like plaster. She'd protested, but just like Niki had warned, the green room team had been unrelenting. She didn't dare rub her aching eyes for fear of smudging something. Sweat trickled down the small of her back under the shirt she'd hastily sewed a PRANC badge onto the previous night.
Opposite her across the dark floor, maybe five feet away, Sam Tinbru sat relaxed in his own chair, legs crossed with one ankle on the other knee, a thin sheaf of notes on his lap. She'd watched him sit that way when interviewing so many great riders – some of whom were now her peers – and he still radiated peaceful charm, but the effect was so different up close. Phoebe found her eyes fixed on the paper, dreading what questions it might hold for her.
From somewhere in the darkness outside the circle of the spotlights, a voice called the studio quiet. Tinbru straightened slightly in his seat and took a sip from the tall glass of water on the narrow table by his chair. The grin he shot at Phoebe was almost conspiratorial. "Let's make a start, shall we? Try to relax, I'm not here to trip you up."
A fizzing surge of adrenaline hit Phoebe, as bad as any she'd experienced on the starter perch of a race. She grimaced, shrugging her shoulders a couple of times, and rode it out. Then she shot Tinbru a stiff nod.
He made a vague gesture with both hands and, in a voice easy with decades of practice, began. "So, Phoebe. Your first podium in the Imperial League, in only your second race, a couple of weeks ago. You must be on top of the world."
At that Phoebe couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, it was pretty good, I'm very happy with the result." What sort of things had other young racers said in interviews like this one? She'd watched Niki and Lyonne give basically the same interview, as a team, on the coverage in Loudon. "But I've gotta keep my focus on the next race, on keeping the team going."
"We were a bit worried we weren't ever going to see you in the IL last year. You had such a promising start in drakelets two years ago and then poof, you weren't there anymore."
What did she say to that? She had to be careful, if she dragged her family's name into it there'd be trouble. Maybe she could play it cool. "That's just how it is sometimes in racing, you know that, Sam- er, Mr. Ti- er-" Selen felt herself folding inwards in a desperate attempt to punch herself in her stupid mouth. Riders always called Sam by his first name in interviews. She felt her cheeks getting hot, she'd blown it already.
Tinbru waved an arm over his head and leaned forward, and Selen tensed, but his words surprised her. "Sorry, I shouldn't have hit you with that one so soon out of the gate, let's have another go at it, shall we?"
"Wha-?"
"Just relax, take it easy. And please call me Sam."
"I'm sorry, I just, uh,"
"Don't worry, some people are born for interviews, and some are born to race dragons."
Somehow that steadied her. "Didn't you do both, though?"
Tinbru laughed, "I certainly never made the splash you've made. Don't worry if the interviews don't come naturally at first. Did you ever watch me interview Terry – Therese Ikaha?"
"Of course, a bunch of times."
"She was the first really big rookie I interviewed the first year I was a broadcaster, it was just after she'd made that sensational move on Ellman down in Calabria in forty-four, you'd have been what, three years old?"
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He hammed up the exaggeration with the suggestion of a wink, and Phoebe laughed out loud. "Not quite. I remember watching that race live, my heart was in my mouth, I really thought she was going to fall."
"You should've seen her in the interview studio at the next race. Sweating bullets, stammering, couldn't meet my eye."
"For real?"
"Truly. One of the bravest, most gung-ho riders there's ever been, absolutely terrified in front of the camera."
"I would not have thought, I would not have thought that Therese Ikaha could be scared of anything, I must have watched that pass on Ellman like fifty times."
"He was a consultant for the ICDA Young Rider programme you were in, right, Tony Ellman? He ever talk to you about it?"
Selen sat back in her chair, feeling her shoulders uncurl a bit. "I only met him a couple of times, I don't think he ever talked about it specifically, but I definitely asked him about Ikaha, she was one of my heroes by then."
"Didn't she hand you your trophy when you took second in drakelets in '52?" Tinbru smiled again. "I didn't realise she meant so much to you."
"Man, I was sweating and shaking so much up there, it was basically the first time I'd met her." Phoebe let herself laugh. "It helps a bit to know she could be nervous too."
"Did you cry?"
Feeling something lift inside her, Phoebe straightened, still laughing. "I don't cry, Sam, I don't cry at races."
"Think that might change this year? If you win a race in the Imperial League?"
"Who's talking about 'if'?" Was it really okay to show this much confidence? Eventually she was going to have to win or deal with letting Mr Castelloro down. Riding the conversation like it was Soot on a charge, she pressed on, "There's a lot of races to come that favour us, Sam, I didn't come to the IL to settle for second."
"Loudon wasn't a fluke, then?"
"Loudon was a start, but I'm here for the long haul." Phoebe found herself leaning forward, "I'm here to win races and fight for championships, I believe in Soot, I believe we can do it."
Still casual, his tone gentle, Tinbru said, "What about tomorrow, then? You've qualified seventh, the course doesn't favour smaller dragons, what can you do in the race?"
Something went tight in Phoebe's gut, and for a moment she hung, reaching for words she couldn't quite reach. "Uh, well, I just wanna gain some places. I'm fourth in the championship right now, any points I come home with are good points."
The interviewer smiled again, and there was a hint of apology about it. "Everyone assumes Aelschu's going to win from pole, or maybe your mate Niki Coro can get zir maiden win if Lucia has a bad day. There's a lot of big golds in the field ahead of you, are you just trying to hang on to Feran's tail for the race?"
Andoal had somehow pushed Corredeira all the way up to fourth on the starter perches, but there was no way he could hold that. Corredeira was the only dragon ahead of Soot who wasn't gold. Selen blinked as the thought that Andoal probably would be her direct competition settled in. "Lucia and Niki can do what they want, I'm not going to settle for following Fer-, uh, Andoal, uh-" she'd done it again, and again she could feel the heat creeping up the back of her neck.
"How come you say Lucia's name without flinching, but trip over Feran's?" Tinbru's tone was jovial, but perfectly gentle, the teasing of a long-time friend even though Phoebe hardly knew him.
Phoebe forced herself to take a breath and collect her thoughts. "After last race he said, he told me, you use their first name after you've beaten them in a race."
Sam laughed out loud, "Of course, he's the only rider in the field you've not beaten yet, right? Think you can change that tomorrow?"
"I don't know," Phoebe said, mustering a chuckle. "I might need to get a bit lucky to beat him here, but if I get that luck then Feran had better look out."
Still grinning, Tinbru made the same waving gesture he'd made before to interrupt the crew. Looking out into the darkness, he called, "Still recording?"
There was an affirmative shout in response. Phoebe's whole back went tense, her shoulders chilled. Hadn't that all been off the record? Had she said anything that could cause trouble? Maybe that last challenge to Andoal?
Tinbru must have noticed the change in her posture. "Do you mind if we use some of that? Once you relaxed it was gold, the punters will love that bit about names."
Wrestling her own larynx, Phoebe managed, "Is it… is it really ok?"
"Of course, this is television," Tinbru smiled. "We'll make it work, the viewers won't even notice the edits."
"No, I mean, like, what I said?"
"Don't worry, we're not here to make you look bad. It's good for everyone if the fans love you, especially for a rookie with so much good stuff ahead of you. Phoebe Tenryuu, the laughing dragon. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Phoebe bubbled up laughing before she could find words to answer.