The Champion

by Scott Sigler

  Quentin had guessed wrong about the strong safety: Lubbock hadn’t blitzed. She was back in coverage, deep in the middle of the field, but she hadn’t noticed Nancy sneaking up the sidelines. The Sklorno saw the pass and sprinted for the corner, where Nancy stood just past the goal line. Lubbock’s uniform and armor shimmered in the stadium lights, an iridescent flash moving through the rain at impossible speed ... she leapt ... but was too late: the ball passed a good five feet over her outstretched tentacles to fall into Nancy’s waiting arms.

  Touchdown, Krakens.

  Ionath 23, D’Oni 21, twenty-two seconds left in the game.

  Quentin jogged to the sidelines, unable to keep his right shoulder up any longer, waving his left arm for Doc Patah. Patah shot out onto the field to be by Quentin’s side: the Harrah’s presence sent a clear signal that the Krakens QB didn’t need helmet slaps or — especially — shoulder-pad thumps of congratulations.

  Patah led Quentin toward one of the medbays. On the way there, Quentin saw Kopor the Climber on the bench, alone, the Quyth Warrior awash in misery.

  THE REJUVE TANK had never felt so good. Thanks to Doc Patah’s nerve blocks, Quentin didn’t really feel anything at all, but that absence of pain counted as a genuine slice of heaven.

  “I have an admission,” Yolanda said.

  Quentin opened one eye. “You’re secretly a Krakens fan?”

  She laughed. “You wish.”

  After the game, Doc Patah had brought Quentin down to D’Oni stadium’s medical facility. Most of Doc’s initial work — cutting away the jersey and slicing off the armor, the painkillers and nerve blocks, the initial exam — was little more than a blur. Quentin had woken up in the tank, Yolanda sitting in a nearby chair.

  “So, what’s your admission?”

  She gestured to the training room, the holotanks and the medical equipment.

  “I’ve never really seen the damage after a game,” Yolanda said. “I’ve reported on injuries dozens of times, of course, and on players trying to recover from a bad one, because that’s always of interest. But... I’ve never been there from the time a player comes off the sidelines to the time the team doc goes to work.”

  Normally, Yolanda talked in a sharp no-nonsense tone. She wasn’t rude, exactly, but certainly didn’t make any effort to come across as “nice.” Now her voice sounded softer, perhaps even more ... respectful.

  “This is the other part of the game,” Quentin said. “You know the flash and glory, and you know the dark side of things, but you’ve never seen the results of all that on-field carnage.”

  She nodded. “Hearing someone talk about it or seeing the player after the fact is one thing. Doc Patah opened you up, showed me the breaks in your bone. He also pointed out all the other injuries you’ve suffered, wounds not even the Ionath beat reporters have written about. You ...” she searched for the words “your body, Quentin, it’s just so ...”

  “Mangled?” he finished for her.

  She nodded again.

  “That’s the life we have chosen,” Quentin said. “We’re meat, Yolanda. Sure, we get money and fame, at least some of us do, but we’re meat and that field is a meat grinder. We get used until we can’t be used anymore, then we get tossed away.”

  She shook her head. “All for money. It’s a lot of money, sure, I get that, but even if I had the size and the athletic ability, I don’t know if I’d do it.”

  No, she wouldn’t; he could sense that about her. Few people understood the need to play, the internal fire that made you love a sport and would shatter your heart when that sport was eventually taken away.

  “We don’t do it for the money. The players at my level would take the same risk and play just as hard if they didn’t get paid anything at all. I’d bet everything I have on that. The money is awesome, yeah, but we don’t do it for the money — we do it because we can’t not do it. We do it until they won’t let us do it anymore.”

  “And then what? What will you do when your body finally gives out and you can’t perform?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that. A life without football was unimaginable.

  “I’ll become a comedian, of course,” he said. “I’m very funny.”

  Doc Patah fluttered over. “Ah, young Quentin, you are awake. I was hoping our regular post-game meetings were a thing of the past.”

  “Me too, Doc. Not like I want to be here.”

  “Miss Davenport, I am afraid I must ask you to leave,” Doc said. “I need privacy with my patient.”

  She stood. “No problem, Doctor. Thank you for showing me so many interesting things.”

  Yolanda walked out of the room. Quentin watched her go, then turned all his attention to the sentient responsible for keeping him on the field.

  “So, Doc, how is my shoulder?”

  “You will be fine,” Doc said. “Your clavicle cracked in two places. The injuries were all bone and muscle related. D’Oni’s facilities are not quite up to my standards, so I programmed nanomeds to stabilize your injuries until I can get you to the Touchback, where I will operate.”

  Operate: the word that made any football player’s stomach flutter.

  “How long will I be out?”

  “You won’t miss any games,” Doc said. “The operation will take about an hour. I will isolate the arm for a few days after that. You should be able to practice by the time we return to Ionath.”

  Quentin breathed a long sigh of relief. Losing five days of practice would be almost unrecoverable except for the fact that the Krakens had a bye in Week 8 — lucky indeed. He would still get a full week’s prep for the Pirates in Week 9.

  And I wonder who will get the starter’s reps at quarterback while I’m out? Zak, or is it time to give credit where credit is due and let Becca have the number-two spot?

  “Fix me up right, Doc,” Quentin said. “You always do.”

  Doc Patah fluttered around Quentin, adjusting more of the equipment.

  They both became aware of someone standing in the doorway.

  “Hello, young Rebecca,” Doc said.

  She was still dressed in her uniform. Full pads, orange jersey, everything, even though the game had been over for two hours.

  “How is he, Doc?”

  “Nothing serious,” Doc said. “He could play next Sunday if we needed him, so that should communicate the severity.”

  “Good,” Becca said. “Um ... would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

  “Of course,” Doc said. “But, please, kindly refrain from that disgusting Human tendency of mashing your oral cavities together. In fact, don’t touch him at all.”

  Doc made two more quick adjustments to the tank, then eased out of the room as silent as a shadow.

  Becca hadn’t moved from the doorway. Why was she still dressed?

  “Game’s over, Becca,” Quentin said softly. “You can go ahead and change.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been alone together. High One, how he missed spending time with her.

  She shifted the helmet from one hand to another, first the left fingers laced through the facemask, then the right.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Maybe I should—”

  Quentin hissed suddenly at a dull stab just inside his right shoulder blade, like someone had driven a screwdriver into his back.

  “Wow,” he said through clenched teeth. “I think Doc missed a spot with those nerve blocks.” He gently adjusted his position. “Sorry, Becca ... you were saying?”

  She lifted the helmet slightly, using it to gesture at his rejuve tank.

  “I didn’t want this,” she said.

  She wouldn’t look directly at him, a tendency of hers when things were too overwhelming, or too emotional, or both.

  “Becca, you’re not blaming yourself for this, are you?”

  She said nothing, which answered his question.

  “Becca, it’s okay. I’ve got an extra week to recover. And we won. Relax, I’ve been throu
gh worse.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point. The point is this was a winless team with a bad defense. In Week Nine, it won’t be the Coelacanths and Lubbock coming for you — it will be the Pirates and Ciudad Juarez.”

  The name made Quentin’s stomach flutter. Juarez had the second-most kills in league history, behind only Yalla the Biter. Quentin had focused on preparing for D’Oni, and on his many other problems — he hadn’t really thought past this week’s game. But the mention of Juarez made him understand Becca’s solemn concern: had it been Juarez slipping past Kopor’s missed block, Quentin might have been facing something far more severe than a broken collarbone.

  “Ciudad won’t get to me,” he said. “I’ve got her number.”

  “Nice figure of speech, but she’s got a real number. That number is eight — that’s how many players she’s killed. You could be number nine.”

  Eight sentients, dead; that was how hard Juarez hit, that was how good she was at being in the right place at the right time, at avoiding blocks and landing clean, devastating shots.

  “You know, Becca, as far as pep talks go, yours kind of suck. I’ll be watching for Juarez. I’m not stupid. I’ll check-down on every play. If she’s coming, I’ll just throw the hot route or throw the ball away. No way I’ll let her come clean.”

  “If you see her coming,” Becca said. “You didn’t see Lubbock, did you?”

  Quentin fell silent. Becca was right — he hadn’t seen Lubbock, at all. That was the kind of thing that could get you killed. But how had he not seen Lubbock? He knew where everyone was, all the time. He always had. So what had gone wrong?

  Becca licked dry lips. “Q, somebody has to say this ... you’re still the best in the game, but you’re not what you used to be.”

  “All washed up at twenty-two, am I?” Quentin wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about his quarterbacking play. “Like I said, Juarez won’t get me. We’ll get Kopor up to speed. Don’t worry, Becca, I won’t be retiring anytime soon. You’ll just have to keep waiting for your chance to start.”

  Becca stared at the floor. “I’m not talking about taking your position. I’m talking about taking mine. Juarez won’t get you, Quentin, because I’ll be at fullback.”

  He didn’t know what to say. She had fought to get her way — fought against the team’s needs, fought him — and now that she had won, the thought of her giving it up made him hollow inside.

  “Becca, I’m out for the next four or five days. Someone has to take starter’s reps in practice.” He couldn’t believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but they felt natural, they felt right.

  “I think that should be you,” he said. “You’ve earned it. It’s what you want, so go for it. By the time I get back, you’ll be a lock as number-two on the depth chart.”

  She slowly relaxed her fingers. Her helmet dropped, clattering against the training room floor.

  “If only you had made that choice when I needed you to make it,” she said. “Things would have been so different. I love you, Quentin — I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  She turned and walked out, leaving her helmet behind.

  He sat in the rejuve tank’s warmth, thinking about how things had come to this point. She had a dream. He’d fought against it, yet she’d found a way to make it happen. Now that things were right there for her, she was walking away from it — not for the team, but for him.

  The irony was almost as thick as the rejuve fluid: if he couldn’t play quarterback, Becca gave Ionath the best chance to win. Now that he was hurt and they might need her, she was going back to fullback — and he knew she’d be just as stubborn about that decision as she’d been when Danny Lundy had delivered her ultimatum.

  But Quentin wasn’t out for good: he would be out for only a week, and a bye week at that. When he came back, the Krakens had five games left in the regular season. While part of him wanted to talk to Becca again, tell her he’d been wrong and she’d been right to chase her dream, that now was her chance, a bigger part of him wanted what was best for the team.

  In press conferences he spoke of taking things one game at a time, but with seven wins and no losses, he couldn’t help but think ahead.

  Five games left: with Becca Montagne at fullback, Ionath could win them all.

  The Krakens could go undefeated.

  GFL WEEK SEVEN ROUNDUP

  Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network

  Home

  Away

  Alimum Armada

  7

  To Pirates

  35

  Buddha City Elite

  21

  Wabash Wolfpack

  20

  D’Oni Coelacanths

  21

  Ionath Krakens

  24

  Yall Criminals

  28

  Coranadillana Cloud Killers

  13

  Orbiting Death

  35

  Bord Brigands

  7

  Themala Dreadnaughts

  42

  McMurdo Murderers

  10

  Vik Vanguard

  28

  Bartel Water Bugs

  21

  Neptune Scarlet Fliers

  21

  Shorah Warlords

  18

  Texas Earthlings

  27

  Sheb Stalkers

  24

  Bye Weeks: Isis (2-4), Jupiter (4-2), D’Kow (2-4) and Jang (2-4) did not play this week.

  The violence that overtook the Ki Rebel Establishment system this week left thousands dead, including three members of the Bord Brigands organization. Defensive end Paul “Bandit” Preston died when Creterakian security forces returned fire on a group of terrorists that were using Freedom Stadium, home field of the Brigands, as cover to fire at government facilities and personnel. Two stadium staffers also died in the exchange.

  The Bord defense was practicing on field at the time of the incident. Three members of the defense were injured. They are recovering, but all three were unable to travel to this week’s game at OS1 (6-0). The Orbiting Death won easily, 35-7.

  Bord (3-3) requested a rescheduling of the game, but GFL Commissioner Rob Froese denied that request.

  “It was a hard decision, but the game was at Orbital Station One and I felt it had to be played,” Froese said. “With our teams spread across the galaxy, the travel time involved makes rescheduling any game, for any reason, something that could cause a ripple effect across the league. This isn’t the first time a franchise has been impacted by political violence. In the GFL, we have a tradition of playing on.”

  With four defensive starters out for Bord, Death rookie running back Danté Diener had a field day. Diener carried the ball 25 times for 145 yards and three touchdowns.

  Bord owner Bord-Du-Will is demanding Froese be removed as commissioner. However, the commissioner is appointed by the Empire Bureau of Species Interaction, and with the Creterakian government focusing its energy on revolts in several systems, it is unlikely Froese will be removed.

  “The brilliant and rather handsome Bord-Du-Will is enraged at this decision,” said a representative of the Brigands owner. “That loss drops us to fifth place and could be the deciding factor in making the playoffs.”

  Bord’s loss allowed Texas (4-3) to climb back into fourth place, thanks to the Earthlings’ 27-24 win over Sheb (2-4). Texas linebacker Alonzo Castro snagged his second pick-six of the season, intercepting Stalkers QB Rubinar Kupanji and returning it 17 yards for the go-ahead touchdown.

  Ionath (7-0) remains undefeated and in first place in the Planet Division after dodging a bullet against winless D’Oni (0-6). The Krakens needed a last-minute touchdown to keep their season unblemished.

  “The mark of a great team is to win when you do not play your best,” said Krakens coach Hokor the Hookchest. “We did that today, despite giving up five sacks and turning the ball over three times.”

  Ionath has a bye in W
eek 8. Quarterback Quentin Barnes required immediate post-game surgery on a broken collarbone, so the time off should allow him to heal and be ready for a dramatic Week 9 tilt against the To Pirates (5-1). To crushed Alimum (2-4) 35-7 to remain in third place in the Planet Division behind Ionath and OS1. The Planet Division’s top three teams have a combined record of 18-1.

  Buddha City (4-2) won a critical conference game against Wabash (4-3). The 21-20 victory let the Elite leapfrog Wabash in the standings and move into a tie with Yall (4-2) for the final Planet Division playoff spot. The Criminals defeated Coranadillana (0-6) 28-13.

  In the Solar Division, Vik (5-1) defeated Bartel (5-2) to move into sole possession of first place. The Vanguard’s 28-21 win gives them a head-to-head tiebreaker against the Water Bugs, which could be critical for determining home-field advantage if the two teams finish with the same record.

  Deaths

  Alimum running back Borimir Abrams, killed on a late hit by To Pirates linebacker Richard “Damage” Damge. Commissioner Froese suspended Damge for two games. The Pirates are appealing the suspension.

  Offensive Player of the Week

  OS1 running back Danté Diener, who had twenty-five carries for 145 yards and three touchdowns.

  Defensive Player of the Week

  Vik linebacker Mur the Mighty, who had three sacks and a fumble recovery for a touchdown in the Vanguard’s 28-21 win over Bartel.

  41

  Week Eight: Bye

  PLANET DIVISION

  SOLAR DIVISION

  7-0

  Ionath Krakens

  5-1

  Vik Vanguard

  6-0

  OS1 Orbiting Death

  5-2

  Bartel Water Bugs

  5-1

  To Pirates

  4-2

  Jupiter Jacks

  4-2

  Buddha City Elite

  4-3

  Texas Earthlings