McKnight's Mission

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McKnight's Mission Page 19

by Caleb Wachter


  Lars, the surprisingly capable left tackle, drove his defender into the mass of humanity which the towering linemen had become. The corner was far from perfect, but he had effectively established the edge and Lu Bu’s shield back slammed into a powerful wingbacker.

  But this time her shield back had been bowled over by the massive, seven foot tall, hundred and sixty kilo wingbacker—who set his eyes on Lu Bu as soon as he had disposed of her last remaining blocker.

  Seeing an even larger defender closing behind her, Lu Bu gripped the ball tightly and lowered her shoulder into the seven foot wingbacker in front of her. Slamming into him was like hitting a brick wall but while he was a mountain of a man, Lu Bu had sparred with Kratos and this man was considerably less agile as Kratos had been.

  Rather than churning her legs, Lu Bu crouched ever so slightly as she planted her feet in preparation for the final drive. With an explosive burst that she knew from personal experience was capable of lifting three quarters of a ton in standard gravity, Lu Bu initially feared that she would fail to drive the man off-balance.

  That thought filled her with a competitive fire that caused a primal scream to leave her throat as she barely managed to overpower him. She shucked his weight to the side and made her body as small as she could, twisting sideways as she dove for the short-lived hole created by his unbalancing.

  The ball broke the plane of the scoring line and the crowd erupted in a roar of approval that was several decibels louder than their previous cheers.

  Before she knew what was happening, Lu Bu found herself being hoisted from the ground by her teammates who gave voice to the profound sense of accomplishment which Lu Bu had once known. But she found herself feeling hollow, and she did not share her teammates’ elated mood.

  All she could think about was the fact that Lieutenant Commander McKnight was scheduled to arrive in three days’ time—and Lu Bu’s team of tech experts had yet to successfully access Fei Long’s virtual network.

  “Great work, Lu!” Lars congratulated after putting her back down on the ground. “One more score and we’re going to the playoffs!”

  Lu Bu nodded as she checked the scoreboard, seeing it officially tied at thirty four points apiece. “One more play,” she winced as she felt something in her chest pop during a particularly painful exhale. It felt like a rib had separated from the cartilage near her sternum, and from experience she knew that it would soon be difficult for her to breathe.

  She knew that her mother could repair the damage relatively quickly using the Mode’s recently upgraded medical suite. But Lars was right: there was still one more play before this particular game was over.

  Lu Bu made her way to the sidelines, the aches and pains of the damage she had accumulated during the game seeming to crash down on her all at once. Her legs trembled and her arms barely responded to her commands as she tried to shake sensation back into her body one limb at a time. One of the water boys ran out with a bottle of electrolyte fluid, which Lu Bu snatched from his hand and poured into her mouth through her helmet’s facemask.

  “All right, Lu,” the kick return unit coach came over, “have you got one more play in you?”

  She winced as she handed the half-empty bottle of fluid back to the water boy. Her shoulder was starting to cramp and she knew her ribs were going to start giving her serious problems in just a few minutes. But she nodded, knowing that this particular play might prove instrumental in her accomplishing the mission she had been given by Lieutenant McKnight.

  “One more,” she said through ragged, panting breaths.

  “Good,” he said with obvious relief, “because you’ve already taken out their top gunner, which means scoring your third kickoff touchdown of the game should be a cinch—which would be an insane thing to say except I’ve seen you play for the past several weeks and I know it’s true.”

  Lu Bu nodded, remembering the last score and fighting against the urge to rub her still-sore back as she recalled the illegal hit which an opposing gunner had made against her. She had kept her feet, and even broken the player’s arm with a proper smash of the ball before going on to score the then-tying points.

  “We’ve got about three minutes until the commercial break is over,” the kick return coach said. “If you’re not up to this, McClendon can—“

  “Give me the ball,” she snapped. “I win this game.”

  A few minutes later she was standing deep in the end zone awaiting the kickoff, and Lu Bu tried to feed off the energy of the crowd as they swelled to a collective uproar as the opposing kicker sent the smashball soaring through the air toward her.

  As it tumbled end over end, Lu Bu felt that same empty, gnawing sensation which had grown with every passing day since she had given birth to her children.

  The thought of her three beautiful, healthy, perfect little children rekindled the fire deep within herself that she knew she needed in order to succeed. She trapped the ball against her chest, cradled it, and burst out of the end zone with the image of her children in the fore of her mind.

  She barely even noticed as the ball became heavier, and she spun through a halfhearted tackle attempt by an undersized defensive back as though he was not even there. The second defender she evaded was nearly decapitated by a flying hit delivered by one of her teammates, and he went to the ground in a groggy heap as she left him in her tracks.

  The third defender actually attempted to make a proper tackle, which only caused him to present an all-too-tempting target—so she smashed him in the chest with the ball. He was knocked back several meters as the ball’s internal gravity generator discharged its accumulated energy, and Lu Bu surged forward as a pair of defenders approached with every intention of ending the play.

  But they were knocked off-course by her teammates, and Lu Bu pumped her legs up and down without a single thought for anything in the world except for little Xun, Meng, and Su. Her gait devoured the ground between her and the end zone, and before she knew it had happened there was confetti flying in the air over her head as the crowd went wild.

  She turned to see the defenders come to a stop several meters away, and without even thinking to do it she dropped the ball and walked over to them, where she shook their hands one by one.

  In that moment she knew that this game was just a prelude to the real battles which lay before her. But for the men she had just competed with, and those who she had competed against, she knew that this would be one of the most important moments of their lives.

  For her part, she was ready to turn the page on this particular chapter and get back to the more important work of saving the Spineward Sectors.

  “Let’s see…your final adjusted points earned for the season are eighty nine,” the team’s owner, Mr. Marcotti, declared with open admiration after sitting down at his private desk which was located in the central viewing box of the stadium. “I have to admit, Ms. Lu, that this is more than a little bittersweet for me. In my thirty two years of owning this team, we’ve never had a player of your caliber. I hate to see you go.”

  “I am honored to play for your team,” Lu Bu said, wincing as her shoulder flared with pain. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Marcotti said with a wistful sigh, “and believe me when I say that I’m going to do everything in my power to fight for the equal rights of people in your situation so this type of travesty doesn’t happen again.”

  Lu Bu knew that he was referring to the fact that she was not eligible for the playoff roster. This was ostensibly due to her paperwork being misfiled at the league office. But the real reason was because she was a genetically engineered super freak who, put bluntly, had blown her competitors out of the water.

  “We appreciate your taking the chance on us, Ted,” Hutch said graciously.

  “You find me another player of her caliber and you’ll find me taking the same chance every time, Steve,” the owner said dismissively as he tapped away on the console built into h
is luxurious desk. “In the meantime, I believe you’d like your money. So here it is.”

  He slid a data slate across the desk, and Lu Bu picked it up to see a series of numbers displayed—one of which she recognized as her private account on Capital.

  Her eyes scanned the document until she found the total number of credits she had earned: just over fourteen and a half million. The Capital Smashball League, of which Mr. Marcotti was a charter member, operated strictly on a merit-based pay scale. Players were paid based on the number of plays they participated in; amount of time spent on the roster; and also based on individual play results such as scores, interceptions, yards gained, etc..

  Each team contributed an equal amount of money to the overall salary pool each year, and that money was then divided among the players based on their individual merits and performances at the end of the season. To Lu Bu’s mind, it seemed an eminently reasonable arrangement—but several of her teammates had seemingly been less than satisfied with the parameters, and had even argued that a labor union was needed in order to enact fairer pay systems. That particular idea failed to resonate with Lu; she saw no reason why someone should get paid for things they did not do—nor did she understand why a person should do something for which they would not be compensated, which was the inherent flaw in any unionized organization where veterans were treated with greater deference than rookies, regardless of production.

  “That’s life-changing money, young lady,” Mr. Marcotti said as he poured a trio of drinking glasses with a strange, violet-colored liquid that almost seemed to glimmer in the office’s light. “Have you given any thought as to how you’ll invest it?”

  “Yes, I have,” Lu Bu nodded, standing and making her obeisance with the customary clasp of her hands as she bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Mr. Marcotti, but we must go now.”

  “Already?” he asked with obvious disappointment. “Even though you can’t accompany us to the playoffs, I’m told your teammates have asked for you to attend the festivities tonight.”

  “I would like to,” she admitted with a shake of her head, “but I cannot. I have matters to attend.”

  Marcotti sighed, “Well if there’s ever anything you need, don’t hesitate to look me up.”

  “I appreciate your kindness,” Lu Bu said, repeating her short bow before saying, “but we must leave now.”

  “Good luck to you, Ms. Lu,” Marcotti held up his glass in salute, and Lu Bu left the room with Hutch close behind. When they reached the lift which would take them to the ground level lobby, Lu Bu allowed herself to grimace in pain at her increasingly irksome ribs.

  “That was an amazing game, ma’am,” Hutch said after the door to the lift closed.

  “It was barely enough to win,” she countered irritably. She had never taken compliments overly well, and she found that his use of the dignity ‘ma’am’ was unwelcome in the extreme, even though she had instructed him to do so once her short-lived career as a Capital Corporate was concluded. “Thank you for…connecting me with Mr. Marcotti,” she added, rubbing her sore shoulder.

  “I was just glad I could finally contribute something to the mission,” Hutch said with no small measure of his own irritation. “I’m going stir crazy down here; and to think that just a few months ago I actually thought this was all my life could ever be…”

  The door to the lift opened and Lu Bu stepped out, only to stop upon seeing a man sporting an external brace on his leg looming just outside the lift.

  She instantly recognized him as Winston, the wingbacker whose leg she had broken—and who she had been unable to meet with prior to the game’s conclusion due to that injury.

  Lu Bu felt Hutch tense to her side, but she pushed past him. If Winston thought he deserved some measure of revenge then she would not deny him the chance to claim it. But neither would she simply roll over to satisfy his personal idea of honor, or whatever it was that had prompted him to wait outside the lift for her to arrive.

  “You,” Winston growled, taking a step toward Lu Bu and prompting Hutch to move forward protectively. Lu Bu held a hand out, and Hutch stopped just short of interposing himself between them.

  “Me,” Lu Bu acknowledged simply. “Is there something you would say?” she asked after a tense several seconds had passed.

  Winston looked down at her, but Lu Bu glared up at him defiantly. She had taken larger men down, and she had done so in worse shape than she was currently in—though in fairness that wasn’t to say that putting money on her, should a brawl erupt, would be a good bet at that exact moment.

  Winston looked down at her, cast a disdainful look in Hutch’s direction, and then looked down pointedly at his surgically-repaired leg with the external fixation rig. A grin then spread across his face, revealing a mouth full of precious metals and gemstones where his teeth should have been, “You play well…for a girl.”

  Lu Bu pushed forward, jutting her chin out defiantly and glaring up at him. “You play well—for an uplift.”

  His snide expression melted instantly and was replaced by a look that could best be described as ‘volcanic,’ but even that expression surprisingly disappeared as he erupted into a roar of laughter. “Good game, Lu,” he said in an exceptionally deep voice, after which he thrust a hand out as though in congratulations, “I know I’ll never play another like it. Well done.”

  Lu Bu eyed him warily before accepting his hand. After a short, but intense battle of grips he released her hand and mimed the respectful doffing of a cap. He then turned and walked—or, rather, limped—out of the lobby.

  Exhaling a short sigh of relief, Lu Bu’s ribs flared sharply in pain and she wordlessly made her way out of the lobby to return home.

  Back on the Mode, Lu Bu found her mother sitting in the cockpit with little Su in her arms. She was singing a lullaby from Lu Bu’s birth world, and Lu Bu stopped for a moment to watch her mother do what she, herself, had tried and failed so miserably to do with her own two hands.

  The babies all seemed to respond more warmly to Dr. Middleton than they did to her, and that realization had created a profound ache which permeated Lu Bu’s entire being. Though she continued to try her best to approximate her adoptive mother’s mannerisms and baby-coddling techniques, she had slowly come to accept that she would never be her equal in that regard.

  The only baby which responded in a similar fashion to her touch as to her mother’s was Meng. Even at just a few months old, it was already clear that he would be the most physically capable of the triplets. His head was significantly larger, and his shoulders far broader than his sister, Xun, and they dwarfed those of their relatively frail brother, Su.

  “Meng just went to sleep,” Dr. Middleton said, her voice barely above a whisper as frail little Su squirmed briefly in her arms. “Little Su was feeling a little fussy so we just made up some formula.”

  Lu Bu moved stiffly to the chair opposite Dr. Middleton. When her mother held Su out in an offer to let her hold the baby, Lu Bu winced and held up a halting hand. “I am sore,” she explained. While she knew that statement was true enough, the real truth is that she knew Su would prefer to rest in Dr. Middleton’s arms.

  Lu Bu had slowly come to realize that her role in their lives would not be as she had envisioned it during her months of pregnancy. She had hoped that the vaunted maternal instincts would kick into high gear and cause a top-down change in her attitudes and priorities—and, moreover, she had hoped that her children would cling to her as she had seen happen in countless vids, and how they did to her adoptive mother.

  But it seemed that Dr. Middleton’s touch was the one they generally preferred, and Lu Bu had decided that what was most important for her children was to do what was best for them—regardless of how it made their mother feel.

  “I heard the Three Stooges cheering,” Dr. Middleton said, her expression a mildly scolding one as she appraised Lu Bu’s many bruises. “I assume that means you won the game?”

  “We did,” Lu Bu nodded, leani
ng back against the bulkhead of the craft’s cramped cockpit just as Hutch arrived with a hot and a cold compress in each hand. She gratefully accepted them and placed the hot compress against her shoulder while pressing the cold one to her stiff neck. “We have enough money for mission to continue—and to buy your service contract back from hospital.”

  Her mother winced at the mention of the service contract—which had been valued at nearly one million credits. “I can’t say I approve of all that sensationalized barbarism,” Dr. Middleton said sourly before sighing, “but even I can admit that it was a profoundly selfless act, and that it was probably the right thing to do. We’re all very lucky you are so talented. Thank you, Bu…I really mean that.”

  Lu Bu nodded absently, but she knew that her talent was less to do with her mind and more to do with her body. Each of those things had been pre-engineered to exacting specifications which had simultaneously provided her with arguably the greatest physical abilities of anyone in the MSP. They had also, in all likelihood, robbed her of some basic human traits which she now sorely wished she shared with her shipmates.

  Looking down at her frail baby in Dr. Middleton’s arms, Lu Bu knew that chief among those traits was whatever most women thought of as the maternal bond—but she would not allow that genetically-engineered weakness to stop her from doing what was best by them.

  No matter the cost.

  “I will check on tech team,” she said, slowly standing from her chair after several minutes of peaceful silence. Traian’s jesting ‘Three Stooges’ label had been one which the rest of the team had all-too-eagerly accepted—even the experts themselves had seemed happy to accept for some bizarre reason—but Lu Bu still felt it was disrespectful and had as yet opted not to use it.

  “Traian is out securing some bits and pieces,” Dr. Middleton said as Lu Bu moved toward the companionway connecting the cockpit with the rest of the ship. “He said something about ‘finding the right shop’ that he wanted me to make sure I told you.”

 

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