by Mel Todd
New Games
Kaylid Chronicles
Novella #1
Mel Todd
Bad Ash Publishing
Atlanta, GA
Copyright © 2018 by Melisa Todd
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
Bad Ash Publishing
Powder Springs, GA 30127
www.badashpublishing.com
Publisher's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com
Book Cover by http://www.ampersandbookcovers.com/
New Games/Mel Todd. -- 1st ed.
ISBN 978-0-0000000-0-0
To my family and friends who always thought I could pull this off.
Make sure when you think a line is drawn in the sand, it is actually in the sand, not poured in concrete.
―- Percival Alexander
CONTENTS
Suspended
Enemy Action
Your Ride
Waking Up
First Responders
Details
Honor
Complications
Dominos
Showdown
New Options
Sideways
Snowballing
Epilogue - Connections
1
Suspended
With a month to the start of the football season, everyone is watching to see who is going to take the preseason lead in the chase for the Superbowl. Most people have their money on the Lions with the emergence of some star power from their draft picks. Either way, there is some young talent to watch, but don't forget the old guys. Perc Alexander at twenty-nine is getting up there but his game and form have only been getting better on the practice field. ~ TNN Sports Doug B
Percival Alexander looked at the manager of the NFL Hawks, Sacramento's first NFL team, with his mouth open and blinked again as he tried to process what the man said.
"I'm suspended? Indefinitely?"
"You heard me, Perc. Yes, you're suspended. As are Orlan, Rubiad, and Mannet. Per the NFL new ruling policy."
Perc's mouth opened and closed, as he tried to figure out how to respond. His mind just kept rebooting as he processed the information.
"I'm one of the top three running backs in the NFL. I'm on track to be the NFL's top rusher this year. I don't do drugs, I have no criminal record. I actually manage my money. I don't act like an idiot. Why in the hell would the other guys and I be suspended?" Even as he said it, his mind put together the pieces and cold claws sank into his gut.
"Because you are all shifters and the NFL has suspended all shifters until tests have proved there are no health risks to shifter players and non-shifters. It falls under the potential for injury clause. Now get out of my office. I've already talked to Orlan and Mannet, I still have Rubiad left and I need to report that I've followed orders," George Rimero growled.
In a state of shock, Perc walked out, not seeing anything as he walked to his car, his mind spinning even as anger and frustration grew in his mind.
Suspended? Why? They were some of the top players, but we had been even before all this stupid shifter stuff had come about.
He drove home on automatic in his practical Lexus, trying to not think about the suspension. If he did, he'd get mad and he had a small issue with driving too fast when mad. Needing to distract himself he flipped on the radio.
"Breaking news, the police officer McKenna Largo, famous for being the first shifter caught on film, has landed in the news again, the full story after this message from our sponsors."
That caught his attention. And he focused on the radio story.
I saw that video. She was damn impressive, keeping calm, and reacting to save the kid even as her body shifted. Hell, I freaked out and backed into a corner when it happened to me. I think the only reason the guys in the locker room didn't go completely ape shit was they saw it happen and were shocked into immobility.
The commercial ended, and he listened to the news story, suddenly curious.
"Earlier today, in a PR stunt to make sure shifter kids stay integrated, McKenna Largo and six kids were kidnapped at gun point. One officer, also a shifter, was killed by the assailants. At this time there are no suspects and the entire area is on alert. Footage is being obtained from the bus and pictures will be dispersed to identify the suspects as soon as possible. The name of the female officer that was killed is being withheld until her family can be notified."
Fuck. Nothing like hearing about a shifter being killed to put this in perspective. I hope she's okay. She looked and acted like someone I might like.
The odd wistful thought faded even as it formed, his attention pulled back into his suspension and the general oddness of it. He resided in Rancho Cordova, with a nice house that didn't approach multi-million-dollar mansions some players owned. If he just lost his income that might be his saving grace.
Perc had grown up, while not poor, solidly lower middle class. Dad had been an accountant, good at his job but not rich. Football had been his chance at college and Perc had followed that with dedication. His dedication had been enough that he'd been picked for the draft and kept playing. Now at thirty, he knew he only had another good year or two but he felt stronger and faster than he had in the last five.
Walking into the house Perc stripped and jumped into the pool. The repetitive laps let him burn off his frustration and give him clarity and time to think. As he swam with mindless intensity, he thought about the situation.
I don't think it gives us much of an advantage. How many shifters are there? I didn't pay much attention to statistics about shifters. Damn that video getting out.
He'd shifted without warning in the locker room after practice. Some idiot playing with his cellphone camera had caught it all and uploaded the whole damn thing. His form of a huge extinct cat visible on the video. They also caught his face proving it was him.
I would have never told anyone, not their business, if not for that damn video. I swear I'm so going to kick the ass of whoever it was, if I ever find out.
The repetitive laps helped drown out that anger.
I need more info; how many players are involved? Maybe this is just me feeling paranoid, but I can't know until I get some information.
He started making plans regarding the information he needed. And by the time he couldn't swim any longer the plan in his head had grown intricate.
Climbing out of the pool he dried off and headed inside the house to dress.
In his office, he took a few minutes to verify he would be fine even if he never received another paycheck from the league. He handled his own finances and invested to make sure he would be taken care of even after football. When he'd reassured himself, Perc hit dial on his phone.
His agent Alicia Young answered on the first ring.
"All-Star Agents, this is Alicia. What's up, Perc?"
"Did you know?" His voice came across blunt and hard, but he tried to tamp it down. A short fuse might work on the field, not so much in other places.
Silence on the other end, then her voice. "Know what?"
"That I just got suspended?"
"You what!" The outrage in her voice pushed back some of his own anger and frustration and he leaned back in his chair.
"Yes! Me, Orlan, Rubiad, and Mannet also, apparently. I
've only talked to Orlan."
"I, Perc, I swear, I knew nothing about this. Why? You weren't caught using performance enhancers, were you?" The worry in her voice would have been comforting if he wasn't clenching his teeth trying not to scream.
"Did you seriously just ask me that? Dammit, Alicia, you know my feeling on it. No, I haven't dosed. I won't. Per Rimero, we're being suspended because we are shifters."
"Wait, what? They can't do that," she spluttered on the other end of the line. "Perc, give me a day, I need to make some calls. I need to figure out what is going on."
"Sure." He hung up and looked at the phone, frowning.
That was not what I expected. I figured she'd have heard rumors, had some idea this was coming down.
With another glare at the phone, he pulled up a number and hit dial. It rang twice, picked up, and an angry voice snapped out.
"What the fuck do you want?"
"Jer, it's Perc. I want to talk to you."
"Oh," Jermaine Orlan responded, the anger leaking out of his voice. "I take it ya heard?"
Perc snorted. "Only because I got suspended also."
"Wait, you got suspended too? You mean it wasn't cause I was black and turn into a non-sexy animal? I mean really, a wolf? How boring can you get? But you, man? You turn into some wild ass, extinct, big cat shit and have the all American white boy looks."
Perc rolled his eyes and counted to ten before he responded; a really fast ten.
"Jer, contrary to the crap you keep getting fed, not everything has to do with your coal black ass. Your coal black heart, well that I won't contest. No, it's a side effect of us being shifters. I think. What did he tell you?"
"Umm, well to be honest past the suspended part I really didn't listen. What the fuck am I going to do if they ain't paying me?" His voice cracked a bit and Perc had to count to ten again.
"Quit throwing parties and maybe invest your money? Jermaine, look, Rimero didn't give you any paperwork or expenses, something to explain this?"
"Naw, just suspended pending final review. Man, I swear I've been good, showing up to practices and not doing any shit, not even booze. I, well I mean the hard stuff. Beer of course."
"Jer, just sit down, call your accountant and don't spend any more money. Call your agent and let them know."
Perc hung up with a sigh and resisted the urge to beat his head on the wall.
Something smells here, I need to know who all has been suspended. It’s probably not on the major channels yet. Who would know?
He drew a blank. His social circles weren't the movers and shakers of the sports world. Heck, his social stuff tended to not exist. The women who chased him could rarely talk about anything outside of football or sex.
Perc snarled, rising up and pacing in the room like a caged animal. He wanted to hit something, but that would be counterproductive, and probably break something he needed or didn't want to replace.
The ring of his phone startled him and grabbed it without checking the caller ID.
"This is Perc."
"It's Alicia. Okay, I don't know what they are thinking, and the rumors are still conflicting, but from what I've been able to find out, any player that came out as a shifter has been suspended. This isn't just in the NFL. The NBA, MLB, hell even the NHL has suspended theirs, and no one has any info as to why. This is unprecedented. At this point, there are some teams who are stuck with the third string and are activating players from the practice squads just to get the team to full roster. I'm keeping my eyes open, but at the moment it looks like serious pressure from somewhere. Oops, other line ringing, got to go." She hung up before he had a chance to even say anything.
Perc looked at the wall, frowning softly. After a few minutes, he pulled up email, added every contact that he thought might be interested and started writing, pulling every oration skill he possessed into it.
2
Enemy Action
Search efforts are still ongoing for Officer McKenna Largo and the missing children. The bus was recovered about thirty miles from where the children were taken. At this point, if there were any witness, there is a five-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to their location. We urge anyone with information to come forward. - KWAK News station
Perc flipped off the radio, casting a thought to the cop and her plight as he pulled his headphones out of his ears.
I hope you get out of there, where ever you are, and you and the kids are safe.
Then he shifted his focus to the here and now as the rideshare driver pulled into the hotel entrance.
"Here you go, remember to rate me," the driver said as they pulled up.
"Will do, thanks for the quick ride," Perc said pulling up the app and adding a tip as he stepped out. Taking a second to grab his messenger bag, he walked into the hotel and to the front desk.
"Hi, how may I help you today?" The perky front desk girl said. She couldn't be older than sixteen, at least to his ancient eyes.
"Perc Alexander. I have a room reserved for this afternoon with a full bar and discussion area?"
"Ah, yes, Mr. Alexander. Right this way, please."
Her smile never dimmed as she led him deeper into the hotel. A large area was set up with at least twenty bottles of higher end whiskey, scotch, rum, with a few mixers and ice. There were tables, couches, and some club chairs. The bathrooms were down the hall and the area was big enough to not feel crowded with thirty people, but yet not so big they wouldn't be able to talk easily.
"This is excellent. Anyone asking for me or about the sports things, please direct them here."
"Of course," with another smile, she left, and Perc walked over to drop his briefcase on the small table and pull out the notes of what he'd found out so far to discuss.
"Hey, Perc," a voice rang out in the room and Perc looked up to see Joe Masters, winner of the Stanley Cup last year with the Sacramento Edges.
"Joe, thanks for coming," Perc said, as he walked over to shake Joe's hand.
"Are you kidding? My agent is livid, and they are screaming bloody murder if this disqualifies me. Any idea what the issue is?"
"Ideas, yes. But right now, I think we're chess pieces, but let's wait until most of the players are here to talk."
Joe nodded. Over the next twenty minutes more people showed up and Perc introduced himself, meeting some of the athletes for the first time. A few had even flown across the country to be here, more than one said he was here to represent three or four others.
When everyone he could realistically expect to be here had shown up, most looking troubled, angry, or exhausted, Perc stood.
Even among a room of professional athletes, Perc drew the eye. At six feet, ten inches and almost three hundred pounds of pure muscle, muscle that had become even more defined of late since the shift. His sandy blond hair, storm cloud blue eyes, and a smile he'd paid good money to make perfect, made an impression. If he could have withstood vapid minds, he would have been a chick magnet for the team, but mostly he'd rather go read or study for the Bar Exam. He had his test scheduled after the regular season.
"Everyone," he called out, his voice cutting through the babble. It died down as people turned to look at him. "Thank you for coming. Here is what I know. All of us have been suspended for an unspecified amount of time, pending review of our shifter status. As you can see this is across most sports. USSF is waiting for a response from FIFA which is European regulated, and I haven't heard of any decisions from them yet. At this time, they are saying it is under review as a player safety issue. I think they are using the concussion protocol to help strong arm this through, but it doesn't make sense. Heck, even the Players Unions aren't fighting it."
The room erupted in grumbling. Perc waved his hand and after a minute they settled back down.
"There is pressure coming from somewhere about this. A huge amount and I don't know why. It seems like they want shifters out of the public eye. I have some suspicions, but even I think they sound a bit conspiracy-ish
for my comfort. Has anyone heard anything else?"
A man, Perc recognized from pictures as Lark Olins from some baseball team, rose and spoke up.
"I have heard the Olympic board is also placing a suspension on all athletes who have shifted at this time, but since the next Olympics isn't for two years, they have a bit more time. I'm in the middle of my season, and yours is about to start in a month or two. Means both of us are about to be royally screwed. My agent says he can't get anyone to talk to him due to HIPPA so we can't even find out what is going on."
"HIPPA? Why would they be using health privacy information laws as a way to block this? Has anyone had blood drawn or given any permissions for tests?" Perc asked. There was a general shaking of heads and murmurs of refusals through the room, and Perc frowned even more.
At this rate, I'm going to get permanent frown lines.
Brian Sharter rose, and he made Perc at least feel normal. Standing at seven feet, two inches, but all lanky lean build, he played for a basketball team, the LA Clippers. Recently voted MVP, lots of players looked up to him. His neat braids were bound by a colorful strip of leather, and his skin always reminded Perc of good rum, the dark rich brown making him want a drink. His career was the one Perc longed to emulate.
"All of you know me. And this is my last year before I retire, so I've got a lot less on the line. But I spoke to my mother about this last night," his voice a soft drawl from his southern roots, but the entire room clicked on the comment about his mother. Brian came from money, but more important, he came from a line of lawyers who all put in time in with the ACLU as a family tradition. Brian planned on following them, but as a researcher. He hated arguing and refused to take the Bar to be able to practice. In fact, reporters hated interviewing him as he usually stuck to one-word answers. His mother had twice been a candidate for the Supreme Court and currently sat on the Eleventh Circuit Court as one of the judges.
