by Scott Sigler
Hokor had called the perfect play; no audible needed.
Quentin slipped his hands under Bud-O-Shwek, feeling the sweaty, pebbly skin on the Ki’s underside.
“Green, nineteen. Green, nineteeeen. Hut... hut!”
The ball slapped into his hands as the linemen slammed into each other. Quentin dropped back five steps. His receivers sprinted out on their patterns. He watched in case someone unexpectedly came open, but the defenders were locked in tight in one-on-one coverage and there were no passing windows.
The offensive line fell back under the defensive assault. Bud-O gave ground to Meaders, but as he fell back, he angled the defender off to the left. Kimberlin did the same with Kin-Ah but pushed the massive Ki slightly out to the right.
Quentin held the ball at his ear, bounced in place, kept looking downfield, waiting for the perfect moment.
Yassoud came out of the backfield and angled right: Cauthorn turned to run with him.
BLINK—
All sound vanished. Time slowed.
Quentin tucked the ball and took off. He shot between Bud-O and Kimberlin. Meaders reached a big hand over Bud-O and hit Quentin’s shoulder pad, but Quentin was too strong to be stopped by a glancing blow.
He angled left, picking up five yards before the defensive backs broke off their coverage and came at him. Cauthorn was much closer: he turned away from Yassoud — the big Human linebacker sprinted at Quentin, his eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent battle cry.
Quentin answered with a silent scream of his own, threw his head and shoulders forward for a full-speed collision. The white-helmeted defender powered forward, all his weight leaning into the blow.
The split-second before impact, Quentin planted on his left foot and bounced two feet to his right, the move as nimble as that of a ballet dancer sliding across the stage.
Cauthorn reached out, unable to stop his forward momentum, but his arm slapped uselessly against Quentin’s stomach armor and then the big linebacker was past, out of the play.
Quentin saw Yassoud running in front of him, looking to make a block. The Criminals safety rushed in; Yassoud hammered her, turned her slightly to the inside — Quentin cut left, almost brushing against Yassoud’s back as he angled for the end zone’s front-left corner.
His feet flew across the white field, over the dark-green lines. The first down marker fell away behind him. He saw the Criminals cornerback trying to break free of Cheboygan’s downfield block, but the oversized receiver kept contact, kept driving her foe backward.
Quentin sensed other Criminal D-backs closing in from behind. He dove forward, extending his hands out, felt the weight of defenders grabbing at him as the ball hit the inside of the orange pylon and sent it flying.
BLINK—
The noise of the world rushed back. Quentin slid across the end zone’s purple paint. Bodies rolled off him. He stood, the front of his orange jersey so stained he looked more like a player from Yall than from Ionath.
A hovering Harrah zebe signaled touchdown.
The crowd screamed in fury and disappointment: Quentin Barnes had broken their heart yet again. He flipped the ball to the ref, glanced over at the Criminals sidelines — there stood Rick Renaud, helmet at his side, shaking his head and mouthing what had to be a long string of creative curses.
Krakens 23, Criminals 21, with twenty-four seconds to play and the extra point still to come.
Quentin’s teammates crashed in, pressing around him, shouting in joy and victory, thumping his shoulder pads and slapping his helmet. He laughed and ducked, pushing at his friends as he ran toward the Ionath sideline.
Renaud was an amazing quarterback, but twenty-four seconds wasn’t enough time for him to work some magic of his own. On the Criminals’ first play following Quentin’s TD run, pressure from Mum-O-Killowe forced Renaud to throw the ball away, leaving only eighteen seconds. On the next play, Renaud chucked the ball downfield, hoping to make something happen. Something did, but not what he wanted — Krakens strong safety Niami intercepted the pass, sealing the 24-21 victory.
THE KRAKENS CELEBRATED in the common area of the visiting locker room. Quentin shared words of encouragement with his teammates — good victory, but we have a long way to go ... more tests are coming at us soon ... this season is ours for the taking ... and other positive talk. But despite the win, he couldn’t get that sack out of his thoughts.
In the past, Meaders would have hit the ground grabbing at empty air. Quentin had always been able to track every player on the field, to plot their movements, to know where they were even when he was looking somewhere else. That ability was what made a great quarterback. He knew how much time he had in the pocket, knew when to scramble, knew how long he had to improvise until his receivers could find open spots. His size, quickness, accuracy and arm strength were critical to his success, but not as much as his innate field awareness.
That awareness hadn’t changed; he’d known exactly when to scramble. No, he hadn’t gotten that part wrong — he just hadn’t moved as fast as he thought he could. There was only one explanation:
I’ve lost a step.
It couldn’t be. But was there any other answer? He hadn’t stumbled. He hadn’t taken any serious hits earlier in the game that would have slowed him down. He wasn’t limping, hadn’t tweaked a muscle or pulled a ligament... there wasn’t anything wrong with him.
He was still very young for a quarterback, but he’d put in four seasons of Tier One ball, plus a pair of playoff runs. He’d been injured more times than he could count.
Maybe all those hits are catching up with you.
Had the same thing happened to Pine? Quentin had watched all of the man’s games, multiple times. In Pine’s early years, he’d been a decent scrambler, able to avoid defenders and buy time, often even just tucking the ball and running as Quentin now did. Pine had never been as fast as Quentin, of course, but defenses still had to account for his mobility.
As Pine’s career progressed, he stopped scrambling as often. When he felt pressure, he would throw the ball away or simply go down and take a sack so as not to throw a risky pass that might be intercepted. Don shifted his game from being a fleet-footed, scrambling threat to being a ball-control quarterback who didn’t turn the ball over. Don Pine hadn’t stopped scrambling because he wanted to; he’d done it because he had to. Hundreds of hits had combined with the march of time to slow him down, to force him to change his game. It happened to every quarterback.
Even, apparently, to Quentin.
But he was only twenty-three. It wasn’t supposed to happen that soon ... was it?
A pair of muscular arms wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground.
“Q! Cheer up, we won!”
The arms squeezed hard, a little too hard.
“Uncle Johnny, okay, okay! Put me down, I’m all cheered up.”
John set him back on his feet.
“We’re four and oh,” John said.
UNDEFEATED IS NOT A SHOE SIZE played across his forehead. Quentin had no idea what that meant.
John leaned closer. His eyes squinted as he examined Quentin’s face.
“Q, are you bummed out because that big fella caught you from behind?”
Quentin’s jaw dropped. “High One, John, how did you know that?”
I AM A PERCEPTIVE AND SENSITIVE SOUL trailed from his right temple down under his chin.
“Because we’re bestest of buddies,” John said. “And also I’m dating your sister. That makes us related, and related people share the same DNA, and people who share the same DNA have brains that are interconnected, so obviously I know what you think.”
Quentin shook his head. “That’s not how it works, John.”
John made a pssh sound. “Like you know science, slowpoke. Speaking of dating, how about you and Becca come out with me and Ju and the crew tonight? There’s a Human zone near the stadium, so I’m pretty sure we won’t get eaten.”
Quentin looked around, searchin
g for Becca. He saw her on the other side of the common area. She was standing with Milford and Denver, laughing at something the two excitable receivers were doing. Becca saw Quentin looking. Her smile faded. Then, she turned back to the receivers and the smile blossomed again.
“Yikes,” John said. “It’s been weeks of this. She’s still crazy-mad at you?”
“You’re as perceptive as ever, John.”
John held up a finger. “Don’t forget sensitive, Q. I’m very sensitive with emotions and whatnot.”
Quentin nodded and turned back to his locker. “You are, John, you are.”
“Sucks to be you, brother,” John said. “I know you’re pissed she’s moving to quarterback — and you’re not alone, most of the team is angry our All-Pro fullback isn’t going to play shucking fullback anymore — but Coach made his decision and you’ve got to get behind that.”
It wasn’t like John was saying something Quentin didn’t already know. The battle was lost. If he expected Becca to be a team player, he had to be one himself and accept the change. He would, soon — at least he hoped he would — but it was still too bitter of a pill to swallow.
“I know, John. I know. It’s just stupid is all.”
John nodded. “Which is why she’s mad at you, because you think it’s stupid. She’ll either get over it or she won’t. That’s fifty-fifty odds, Q, and that ain’t bad. So what do you say? Do your press conference bit, then come out with me and Ju. Your brothers will cheer you up.”
Quentin couldn’t think of going out in Virilliville without also thinking of billowing columns of pink smoke.
“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Quentin said. “There’s like, millions of my ... uh ... my followers here.”
“Q, you don’t listen so good sometimes. I told you we probably won’t get eaten. We’re going to the Human district. It’s walled off. Great nightclub section, with heavy security throughout.”
“What, only Humans are allowed?”
“That would be racist,” John said. “Other species are totally welcome. Not just any Sklorno can get in, though, only the smart and well-behaved ones, you know? The good kind of Sklorno.”
Quentin wondered if the next thing John said might be some of my best friends are Sklorno.
He again looked at Becca — she looked at him at almost the same time. Her face instantly grew hard and unforgiving. She turned and walked into the HeavyG locker room.
They’d won the game. On the field, he and Becca had worked together so effortlessly they might as well have had the linked brain John believed in. Quentin wanted to celebrate the win, sure, but he wanted to celebrate it with her.
“Sorry, John. I’m not up for going out tonight. But I promise I will after the Neptune game next week, win or lose, okay?”
“Hah,” John said. “Like we could lose to those scrubs.”
John gave Quentin another heavy slap, then walked away, leaving Quentin rubbing his now-stinging shoulder.
He just wanted to finish up and go get some sleep, but he couldn’t because his job wasn’t done — the multi-headed monster needed to feed.
Quentin finished undressing, grabbed a towel and headed for the Ki baths.
“BRIGHT LIGHT REMAINS in the stadium facility,” the agent said. “No indications he will leave and enter Virilliville proper.”
Of course he wouldn’t, not if he was smart. Well, he was a football player, so he wasn’t smart, but Quentin Barnes was far from stupid.
The agent’s J-plant buzzed with the annoying voice of his controller.
“Desert Sun, do you have visual on Bright Light?”
Creterakians were disgusting little creatures. Their high-pitched voices could cut crysteel. The agent hated them. They had subjugated his planet, his government, his people ... but they also paid extremely well.
“Negative, Boss Seven,” the agent said. “Bright Light is in reserved areas not open to the public.”
Creterakians barely understood the concepts of “privacy” and “public.” The bats were a shared intelligence, or maybe it was distributed intellect... something along those lines, anyway. More like insects than a real sentient race, really.
“Desert Sun, this is a high-contact area for Bright Light. We must know who he is communicating with. Are you able to get closer?”
Of course he could get closer. He was better than anyone. For him, it was easy ... but why tell that to his “boss?”
“There might be an opportunity shortly, but it would be extremely dangerous to my safety,” the agent said. “I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.”
A pause from the other end.
The agent waited. The Creterakians had more money than they knew what to do with. As long as you didn’t come out and actually ask them for it — which was offensive to some indefinable part of their primitive group-think, perhaps — they would throw cash around like, well, like Quentin Barnes throwing at will against the Yall Criminals secondary.
“Desert Sun, you are approved for a triple bonus if you send visual confirmation of Bright Light inside the facility.”
The agent had to bite his hand to hold back a sudden laugh. The bats ruled the galaxy, they had founded the GFL, but they knew nothing about how the league actually worked or the culture surrounding the sport.
“I accept the mission,” the agent said. “If I don’t make it out, tell my mother I love her.”
He couldn’t help saying that, he just couldn’t.
“Desert Sun, we are not in contact with your mother. You frequently make this request, yet we have no information on your family structure.”
“Desert Sun, out,” the agent said, managing to shut off his comms before the laughter finally escaped him.
GFL WEEK FOUR ROUNDUP
Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network
Home
Away
Alimum Armada
28
Isis Ice Storm
27
D’Oni Coelacanths
20
To Pirates
23
Jupiter Jacks
10
Coranadillana Cloud Killers
3
Yall Criminals
21
Ionath Krakens
24
Wabash Wolfpack
27
D’Kow War Dogs
21
Jang Atom Smashers
14
Bartel Water Bugs
24
Bord Brigands
17
McMurdo Murderers
14
Texas Earthlings
28
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
24
Sheb Stalkers
27
Vik Vanguard
30
Bye Weeks: OS1 (3-0), Buddha City (2-1), Themala (1-2) and Shorah (1-2) did not play this week.
With the season one-third over, the undefeated Bartel Water Bugs (4-0) stand alone atop the Solar Division standings. Bartel gutted out a back-and-forth 24-14 affair with Jang (1-3) to stay in first place. Bugs’ QB Andre “Death Ray” Ridley’s skills were on display again, as he ran for a touchdown, threw for another and caught a trick-play pass from running back Robert Shonfelt for a third.
Bartel is a full game up on Texas (3-1) and Vik (3-1), both of which posted close wins. The Earthlings held off a late-game rally from Neptune (2-1) to give their home crowd a 28-24 win, while the Vanguard kicked an overtime field goal to beat Sheb (1-2) by a score of 30-27.
In the Planet Division, Ionath (4-0) stayed in first place with a 24-21 win over the Yall Criminals (2-2). Ionath’s Quentin Barnes threw for two touchdowns and also scampered 28 yards for the winning score late in the fourth quarter. Barnes racked up 271 yards in the air and another 110 on the ground.
Following a season-opening loss, the To Pirates (3-1) won their third straight, 23-20 over D’Oni (0-4). Pirates QB Abdullahi Ba hit wide receiver Victoria for an 82-yard go-ahead touchdown late in the fou
rth quarter.
“That’s the second time this season we’ve lost by a field goal or less,” said Coelacanths head coach George Hrab. “If we want to stay in Tier One, we need to figure out how to finish games.”
The Pirates and Wabash (3-1) are tied for third in the Planet, a full game behind Ionath and a half-game back of OS1 (3-0).
The Wolfpack topped D’Kow (1-3) by a score of 27-21.
While it is a little early to start the annual relegation watch, it’s important to note that there are three teams who have yet to win a game. Coranadillana (0-4) joins D’Oni at the bottom of the Planet Division, thanks to a 10-3 loss to the Jupiter Jacks (2-2), while the newly promoted McMurdo Murderers (0-4) are in sole possession of last place in the Solar.
Deaths
No deaths reported this week.
Offensive Player of the Week
To Pirates quarterback Abdullahi Ba, who threw for 380 yards, three touchdowns and no interceptions in a come-from-behind win over D’Oni.
Defensive Player of the Week
Scootchie-Poo Pootersnoot, cornerback for the Neptune Scarlet Fliers. Pootersnoot became the first Prawatt player in GFL history to earn Player of the Week honors, thanks to a pair of interceptions it returned for touchdowns.
38
Week Five:
Ionath Krakens at
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
PLANET DIVISION
SOLAR DIVISION
4-0
Ionath Krakens
4-0
Bartel Water Bugs
3-0
OS1 Orbiting Death
3-1
Texas Earthlings
3-1
To Pirates
3-1
Vik Vanguard
