by Scott Sigler
And to Ju’s right, arm on the table and head down on his arm, the moaning form of John Tweedy.
“Ohhhh,” John said, his voice muffled by the crook of his elbow. “Oh, beer, why do you hate me so?”
Ju gently patted his brother on the back. “Because you’re ugly, John. That’s why I hate you, anyway.”
Becca smacked Ju on the shoulder.
“Knock it off, Julius. Your brother is in pain. Be nice.”
Ju looked at her, dumbfounded. Quentin knew why: in that moment, Becca had sounded like a deeper-voiced, younger version of Ma Tweedy.
She returned to staring at Quentin.
“So, Q, who do you think they were?”
He forced himself to eat another spoon of his macaroni and garbird. Chewing it gave him a few moments to think about a believable answer.
“I told you, I don’t know,” he said. “One of them, the Ki, had Scarlet Fliers gear on, but it looked brand new. He might have bought it that day to blend in. Or it could have been a few actual Fliers fans, really angry that we whipped their team.”
“Yassoud told me they didn’t ask him for money,” Becca said. “Same with Pishor. Did they ask you for money?”
Quentin shook his head. Becca had already asked him that. He had a feeling she would ask him that again, several times.
“The Orbiting Death,” John said into his arm. He looked up. His skin was bright red from repeated scrubbing that hadn’t fully removed the ink applied by Cliff Frost. The straight black lines of a kitty face were still clearly visible. “Villani hired those thugs to bust Quentin up, maybe. Or maybe it was that rotten Gloria Ogawa!”
Ju stared at his brother, then shook his head sadly. “Just look at you, John. Wait till Ma sees this.”
John’s face wrinkled with worry. “Aw, Ju, you’re not gonna tell Ma, are you?”
“Don’t know,” Ju said. “Maybe if you were really nice to me, I might forget to tell her.”
John nodded. “I can be nice. Mega-nice!”
“Super- mega-nice?”
Becca gave the table a light slap. “Can we please focus on the fact that someone attacked our teammates last night? And that their primary target probably wasn’t our number-two running back or a backup linebacker? Someone wanted our quarterback out of the picture. What if John is right and it was Ogawa who set it up? Or Villani? We’re the hottest team in the league right now — if they don’t think they can beat us on the field, they’ll find another way.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a team at all,” Kimberlin said. “Or an attempted mugging. Quentin, did the attackers mention anything else?”
The tone of Mike’s voice indicated that he had an idea of what that anything else might be.
“No,” Quentin said. “They didn’t.”
Mike clearly didn’t believe him. “We should talk about this later. In private.”
Quentin thought back to Mike’s claim that he knew sentients from the Harrah independence movement. What else did Mike know? Who else did he know?
“Maybe,” Quentin said. “Right now, though, I think we should all be grateful that nobody got hurt.” He glanced at Choto. “Seriously hurt, I mean.”
Choto rubbed his closed eye with a pedipalp hand. “I’ve had worse.”
Becca leaned back and crossed her arms.
“Probably a good idea that you don’t go out and party anymore,” she said. “If they tried to get you once, Quentin, they’ll try again.”
Choto adjusted the bag of ice on his head. “That is an excellent suggestion,” he said. “Stadium facilities, both at home and on the road, are guarded and protected. The Touchback is very safe as well. And when you are in Ionath, the Krakens Building is the most secure place in the city.”
That didn’t leave anything outside of Quentin’s apartment and football-related activities, but he didn’t really mind. He didn’t need to go out for meals or anything else like that, and besides, he had far more important things to worry about: like how to get Sandoval his money, and, maybe, how to crush Sandoval without winding up the target of a CMR assassination order.
He nodded. “Staying in for the rest of the season sounds like a good idea.”
Becca seemed to relax a little. Now she looked more worried than angry.
John sighed. “My head hurts, but we all know I’m the thinker of the bunch. Don’t be like Yitzhak, Q — don’t hide in the damn Krakens Building your whole life long. You can go out and get beers with us, just wear a costume.”
Becca shook her head. “Yeah, because there are just hundreds of seven-foot-tall Humans as big as Quentin, walking around with wigs and fake beards. No one would ever recognize him. He’s not going out, Jonathan — life is more important than beer.”
John gave her a quizzical glance, as if to say, are you sure?
Ju touched the tip of John’s blackened nose.
“Beer hates you, John, remember?”
John rubbed at his temples. “It hates me a lot.”
“Because you’re ugly,” Ju said. “Right?”
John started to get mad, then remembered Ju’s ultimatum.
“Mega-ugly,” John said.
Ju smiled. There was a chunk of meat stuck between his teeth, and his chin gleamed with grease and a few more flecks of the same.
“I, on the other hand, am very handsome,” Ju said. “Don’t I look handsome, John?”
John sighed. “Mega-handsome. Like, the most super-mega-handsome guy ever.”
Becca rolled her eyes.
Choto set his ice pack on the table.
“Quentin,” he said, “there is something that I do not understand. When the red Warrior knocked me out, there were three attackers left. Yassoud and Pishor seemed occupied. How did you come away without any marks?”
“You mean other than this?” He slid up his sleeve. Where Sandoval had grabbed him, his muscular arm showed a deep yellow-purple bruise in roughly the shape of a Human or HeavyG hand.
Becca hissed in a breath. Her expression changed from hard-eyed and stern to that of someone dying inside because a person she loved had been hurt.
Ju waggled the animal leg in Quentin’s direction. “I hope you did the family proud and gave better than you got.”
Quentin controlled a wave of embarrassment: other than knocking that Ki off Choto, he hadn’t even thrown a punch.
“There were some Krakens fans or something, they helped chase the guys off,” Quentin said. He grew worried that he might say something stupid, possibly give a hint about the CMR or Sandoval. “Listen, guys, I’m beat. I’m going to crash before practice.”
He stood, forced a smile and headed for his quarters. The trip home to Ionath would take another five days, during which he’d try to avoid the subject as much as possible. Once back on Ionath, everyone would accept that the situation was in Gredok’s hands, and they could all get back to focusing on football.
GFL WEEK FIVE ROUNDUP
Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network
Home
Away
Buddha City Elite
10
Yall Criminals
38
Isis Ice Storm
42
D’Oni Coelacanths
3
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
10
Ionath Krakens
35
Texas Earthlings
14
Orbiting Death
24
Themala Dreadnaughts
14
Wabash Wolfpack
21
Bartel Water Bugs
27
D’Kow War Dogs
10
Jupiter Jacks
17
Jang Atom Smashers
14
McMurdo Murderers
10
Sheb Stalkers
28
Shorah Warlords
21
Vik Vanguard
27
Bye Weeks: To (3-1), Alimum (2-2),
Coranadillana (0-4) and Bord (2-2) did not play this week.
Both division-leading teams notched wins this week, keeping Ionath (5-0) atop the Planet and Bartel (5-0) atop the Solar.
Ionath pounded Neptune (2-2) by a score of 35-10. Krakens signal-caller Quentin Barnes threw for 305 passing yards and two touchdown strikes, while adding another TD on the ground. Running back Ju Tweedy rushed for 85 yards and a touchdown. Yassoud Murphy rushed for one TD and caught another, part of his four receptions for 56 yards.
“Barnes was unstoppable today,” said Scarlet Fliers quarterback Adam Gurri. “The way Ionath is playing right now, I don’t see that changing.”
OS1 (4-0) remained undefeated and in second place in the Planet Division, thanks to a 24-10 thumping of Texas (3-2).
Wabash (4-1) grabbed its third straight victory, 21-14 over Themala (1-3). Wabash sits in third place in the Planet, a half-game ahead of To (3-1), who was off this week with a bye.
Coranadillana (0-4) was also on a bye week, which leaves D’Oni (0-5) in sole possession of last place in the Planet, thanks to a 42-3 drubbing at the hands of the Isis Ice Storm (2-3).
Vik (4-1) stayed in second place in the Solar, after a 27-21 outcome against Shorah (1-3). It was the Vanguard’s fourth win in a row after stumbling out of the gate with an opening-day loss. Vik has a bye in Week 6.
The other team streaking up the Solar Division rankings is Jupiter (3-2). After losing their first two games, the Jacks have won three straight to move into a tie for third. Jupiter edged out Jang (1-4) with a game-winning drive late in the fourth quarter. Jacks quarterback Don Pine hit wide receiver Beaverdam for a 6-yard touchdown with just 4 seconds left to play, giving the Jacks a 17-14 win.
“The rumors of our demise have been greatly exaggerated,” Pine said. “We’re back in the hunt. We’re just taking it one game at a time. If we play our best, we can beat any team in the league.”
McMurdo (0-5) lost its fifth straight, 28-10 against Sheb (2-2). The Murderers are dead last in the Solar and look to be heading for relegation.
Deaths
No deaths reported this week.
Offensive Player of the Week
Isis quarterback Paul Infante, who threw for 280 yards and four touchdowns against D’Oni.
Defensive Player of the Week
OS1 linebacker Yalla the Biter, thanks to five solo tackles, six assists, one sack and one interception in a win over Texas.
39
Week Six:
Alimum Armada at
Ionath Krakens
PLANET DIVISION
SOLAR DIVISION
5-0
Ionath Krakens
5-0
Bartel Water Bugs
4-0
OS1 Orbiting Death
4-1
Vik Vanguard
4-1
Wabash Wolfpack
3-2
Jupiter Jacks
3-1
To Pirates
3-2
Texas Earthlings
3-2
Yall Criminals
2-2
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
2-2
Alimum Armada
2-2
Bord Brigands
2-2
Buddha City Elite
2-2
Sheb Stalkers
2-3
Isis Ice Storm
1-3
Shorah Warlords
1-3
Themala Dreadnaughts
1-4
D’Kow War Dogs
0-4
Coranadillana Cloud Killers
1-4
Jang Atom Smashers
0-5
D’Oni Coelacanths
0-5
McMurdo Murderers
SATURDAY’S PRACTICE was little more than a walk-through, but it felt great to have his feet back on the blue turf of Ionath Stadium.
Gredok’s response had been mostly as expected: when on Ionath, he didn’t want Quentin leaving the Krakens Building, and when on the road, he wanted Quentin either on the Touchback or safe in the opposing team’s facilities. For once, Quentin had been only too happy to do what the owner asked. Quentin still had no idea who the attackers had been working for. That part of the mystery was up to Gredok: maybe his criminal organization could finally do something that would benefit the Krakens.
For now, however, Quentin wasn’t going to worry about it. He relaxed as the water’s heat soaked into his body. A few feet away from him, a ball of Ki writhed slowly, three and a half tons of snake-like linemen relaxing in that species’ unique way.
His love life was a mess, he was lying to his friends about the fight, he had to pay blackmail or become a target of the Creterakian Empire, and someone was trying to kill him — again. But here, he felt safe. Here, he could focus on his job. When it came to football, he always knew exactly what to do. With everything else, he felt clueless.
Over the sound of trickling water, he heard the door open and footsteps approaching. Quentin looked to the darkness of the entryway: was Becca finally coming to join him again?
His heart sank when he saw that it was Michael Kimberlin.
The swirling Ki let out a collective gurgle of recognition, welcoming a fellow lineman to their daily ritual. Kimberlin dove headfirst into the water, making a surprisingly small splash for such a massive sentient. He went fully under, then popped up, treading water.
“Let’s talk about the attack,” he said.
“What’s there to talk about, Mike? Gredok is handling it.”
“That would be fine if it was just some owner out to break your legs,” Kimberlin said. “But it could be bigger than that. When Petra talked to you the second time, she wanted you to be a leader, right? She wanted you to be some kind of unifying figure?”
Quentin hadn’t told anyone about that, not even Becca. To hear Kimberlin say it... it felt violating. Bumberpuff had promised he wouldn’t speak to anyone about it, but who knew if the Prawatt had kept his word.
“That’s ridiculous,” Quentin said. “What makes you think she asked me that?”
“It’s not ridiculous, it’s logical,” Kimberlin said. “She probably sees the same thing I see, that you have a unique ability to bring sentients together. Your popularity is unprecedented, Quentin — and I think it’s why you were attacked.”
Quentin didn’t answer. Bumberpuff must have told him about Petra’s visit. Bumberpuff claimed he hadn’t known what the conversation was about, but that had to be a lie ... didn’t it? Mike couldn’t have just figured this out on his own.
“The attack was from another team, Mike, to stop us from winning. So I’m popular, so what? Why would someone want to hurt me because of it?”
Kimberlin kept treading water, stared hard at Quentin as he did. Quentin stared back, his face expressionless; if he could hide his emotions from Gredok the Splithead, he could hide them from Michael Kimberlin.
The HeavyG swam to the wall next to Quentin.
“I was right,” he said, resting one massive arm on the wet tile. “She wants to unify the races to fight the Abernessia, and she wants your help to do it.”
Quentin thought of denying it, but either Bumberpuff had talked, or Kimberlin was just that smart. Either way, it didn’t help anything to insult the man’s intelligence.
“Say that’s exactly what she wants,” he said. “You want to tell me why that somehow makes me a target?”
Kimberlin glanced at the swirling ball of Ki, as if he only now realized they were a few feet away and hearing everything that was said. He glanced at Quentin, raised an eyebrow: can I go on with them here?
Mum-O, Bud-O, Sho-Do and the others, weaving in and out of the ball, heads appearing then vanishing, black eyes watching. They were quiet, but they were listening. They were Quentin’s silent supporters, never saying a word but always on his side. He didn’t have to ask if they understood that this was a secret, that they weren’t to mention it to anyone — he just knew.
<
br /> “Go ahead,” Quentin said. “Nothing we discuss here will leave this room.”
“Petra wants you to help unify the races, because together, the races can fight the Abernessia,” Kimberlin said. “So if a group wants to stop the races from uniting ...”
He let the sentence trail off, leaving it for Quentin to finish as he had done so many times during their tutoring sessions. And like those times before, it worked.
“Then I’m a threat,” Quentin said. “If someone thinks I can unite the races, and they don’t want the races united, I’m a threat.”
Kimberlin nodded.
“But who would want to stop the races from unifying? That would mean more peace, more sentients getting along without hating each other. I mean, not that I’m going to do a damn thing, but who would object to all the races getting along?”
“The Zoroastrian Guild,” Kimberlin said. “They want to destroy the Creterakians, not allow races to form stronger ties with them.”
That boogeyman again? Quentin hadn’t expected to hear that.
“But I’m not trying to form stronger ties,” he said. “I’m not doing anything like that.”
“Just because you’re not trying now doesn’t mean you won’t try later. If the ZG thinks you’re a potential threat, they will try to take you out.”
Had they already? Fred had learned that the ZG was behind the parade bombing after the Krakens won the T2 Tourney. If that suicide bomber had gotten closer, he could have killed Quentin.
“The ZG was behind the parade attack,” he said. “Could they have also been behind those fighters attacking us off of Yall?”
