by Scott Sigler
Richfield will remain as High Priestess of the CoQB. The Orthodox Barnesian Separatists, or the BoS, will be led by the “Grand Pope,” a position filled by Hoyt Bogard, a Human. The Reformed House of Quentinism’s top position will be called “Quetzalcoatl,” held by Who-Love-Q, a Ki.
* * *
“THANK YOU, QUENTIN.”
“Thank you, Kelp Bringer,” Quentin said. “I’m sure I’ll see you again at the press conference after the Pirates game.”
The Leekee walked away from the conference room’s table. One of his symbiotes fell off, then scrambled across the carpet and jumped on his back before he walked out the door. Those spindly things were so gross.
Quentin took in a slow breath, calmed himself; he knew who was up next.
Messal entered the room. “Your next interviewer is ready, Elder Barnes.”
“Good, good, and ... the uh, other reporters, they’re waiting outside, too?”
“They are, Elder Barnes.”
“And they’ll be able to see him enter?”
“As you requested, Elder Barnes,” Messal said. “If I may be so bold, it is most unusual to see you this concerned about a reporter. I know that you are not on best terms with Gredok, but if there is a problem, he has certain resources that could be of assistance.”
Quentin was so freaked out, he actually gave that a moment’s thought: Gredok’s thugs might prove helpful. But if they were in the room, they would know, and that would end Quentin’s chance to put this behind him. That was the same reason he hadn’t brought Choto, John or Ju.
He had to do this on his own.
“Thank you, Messal, but I’m fine.”
The Worker bowed. He walked out; seconds later, Jonathan Sandoval walked in. The tall reporter sat at the table across from Quentin.
Sandoval did not look happy.
“You set up this private interview crap just to talk to me,” he said.
Quentin nodded once. “Yeah, and all those famous reporters saw you come in, didn’t they?”
Sandoval leaned forward, elbows on the table. Quentin couldn’t stop himself from leaning back in his chair, keeping as much distance as he could without standing and running.
“You better have my money,” the reporter said. “It’s been a month, Barnes. You get paid every week, I get paid every week, remember?”
“Don’t bother,” Quentin said. “I know you saw Yolanda’s story. It’s over. I’m not paying you anything.”
Sandoval tried to look confident, like he had everything figured out, but Quentin could see a hint of doubt in the man’s eyes.
“You think you’re out of danger,” Sandoval said. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”
Quentin smiled. “Smart? I don’t know, but I sure ain’t dumb. At least not as dumb as you seem to think football players are.”
“This isn’t over.”
“Yeah, it is,” Quentin said. “The CMR recognizes three churches dedicated to me — not just one. Religious divisions happen all the time. The three sects have separate accounting and separate facilities. They’re even located in separate regions of space. Not one of the three churches is big enough to be of concern to the CMR.”
Sandoval leaned back in his chair and tried to look cool, like that news didn’t bother him.
“The CMR will see through it, eventually,” he said. “I know your travel schedule inside and out. You didn’t have any secret meetings like Yolanda reported in that story. If you don’t pay me, I’ll tell CMR that those meetings never happened. Then the bats will know this schism is a load of crap.”
“But the meetings did happen. Rob Froese brought Richfield and the others to a pair of them, about ten days apart, that took place aboard the Touchback. You can research the flight plans of the Regulator if you like. So if you tell the CMR that those meetings didn’t happen, who do you think they’ll believe? You, or the commissioner of the GFL?”
Sandoval stared through narrowed eyes. His payday had just vanished.
“I’d like to rip that smile off your face, Barnes.”
Quentin pointed to the wall. “Those reporters saw you come in. Messal logged the time of this meeting. You kill me, you’ll answer for it.”
“Maybe I’ll just break that left arm of yours.”
“Maybe,” Quentin said. “But then what? What do you think will happen to you if you do anything to me? The bats will be after you. And something tells me those mods you have mean they can track you no problem. So you get a moment’s satisfaction, then you’re going to prison, or to a coffin.”
Quentin watched the man. Were their positions reversed, Quentin probably would have been wondering, How bad can prison really be?
Sandoval would do the smart thing, though. Quentin was sure of it. Almost sure.
The reporter held the stare for almost a full minute. Quentin didn’t flinch. Finally, Sandoval groaned and looked at the ceiling. He’d known it was over before he’d entered the room, had just been trying to bluff his way to one last payday.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “The CMR wasn’t happy that I somehow missed this whole split coming. So guess what, Barnes? Not only is my power over you gone, I’m out of a job.”
“Both jobs?”
“Nah, I get to keep being a reporter,” Sandoval said. “The CMR is keeping their word on that, near as I can tell. But they no longer have faith in my ability to track a religion. I don’t get to do that anymore, which means the mods are coming out.”
“Bummer,” Quentin said. “Will that be painful?”
Sandoval glared. “More painful than having them put in, I’m told, and that part didn’t exactly tickle. This is your fault.”
Quentin held up both hands, palms out. “I didn’t make you go under the knife for this, and I didn’t make you try to blackmail me.”
“That’s the funny part,” Sandoval said. “If I’d just taken the CMR’s money and told them what was what, told them the real numbers, you’d be dead and I wouldn’t have to go through this. Maybe they would have kept me around for the next hotshot quarterback that drove the Sklorno crazy.”
The man’s greed had inadvertently saved Quentin’s life; but Quentin wasn’t about to give him a cookie for it.
“When do the mods come out?”
“After the Galaxy Bowl,” Sandoval said. “They promised I could keep being a reporter no matter what. Mod removal and recovery will have me totally laid up for a full month. As soon as the Galaxy Bowl is over, all these goodies go bye-bye.”
That was the best news Quentin had heard all day.
The conference room door opened. Messal walked in.
“I am afraid your scheduled time is up, Mister Sandoval,” the Worker said. “Elder Barnes’ next appointment is ready.”
Sandoval stood. He offered his hand. Quentin looked at it for moment, thought of the powerful machinery inside.
“No thanks,” Quentin said.
The reporter smiled. “So smart. Maybe you’ll find out that I’m smart, too. Later, Barnes.”
The tall man left.
Quentin wanted to collapse on the floor and go to sleep — he’d done it.
“Elder Barnes, are you unwell?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Fine. Send in the next one. Oh, and do me a favor?”
“Of course,” Messal said. “Anything in my power.”
Quentin looked at the closed door.
“Make sure Jonathan Sandoval never gets anywhere near me again. The only way I want to see him is at a post-game press conference with at least a foot of crysteel between us. Can you take care of that?”
“Of course, Elder Barnes. I will make sure that Mister Sandoval doesn’t bother you again.”
Quentin eased back into his chair. He had more problems than he could count, but at least one of those problems was gone — and that felt damn good.
For now, with Sandoval no longer a threat, he could focus on the task at hand — the To Pirates and keeping the Krakens undef
eated.
• • •
DENSE CLOUDS BLOCKED the afternoon sun. A hurricane-force storm raged rain down on the Ionath City dome. Far below that dome, the Ionath Stadium fans sat in perfect comfort. The afternoon was so dark that the stadium lights had been turned on, bathing the blue field in an artificial glow, making the battle against the visiting To Pirates feel like a night game.
Ionath 28, To 21, 3:48 to play in the third quarter, Krakens’ ball on To’s 45.
Quentin dropped back five steps and planted. He sensed, more than saw, the defensive linemen attacking; he let his instincts tell him how much time he had while he kept his attention focused downfield. Before the snap, he’d seen a flash of color in the eye of linebacker Izic the Weird, a flash that told Quentin that the Warrior might come on a delayed blitz.
One beat...
Izic dropped into coverage, staying three yards behind the line of scrimmage, ready to defend against a crossing pattern or help on an inside slant.
Two beats ...
The Warrior planted his big feet, leaned forward and blitzed, accelerating toward Quentin. Stadium lights lit up his blue-stained white jersey, lit up the black-fanged red Ki skull-and-crossbones logo across the chest, lit up his blood-red leg armor and the white-trimmed black Ki skulls on his thighs. Behind the facemask of that blood-red helmet with the single white-lined black stripe down the middle, a baseball-sized eye narrowed with hate and hunger.
Quentin stood firm. He saw Crazy George break off his route: Crazy George had seen Izic’s blitz and was moving to the area Izic would have been guarding.
Izic slipped between Kimberlin and Bud-O, each of whom were losing ground against attacking Pirate defensive tackles. Izic closed to five yards from Quentin, to four ...
Quentin stood his ground.
The Warrior closed to three, to two, leaned forward to drive all his mass and force into Quentin’s chest — then got blind-sided by Becca the Wrecka. Quentin barely had to move his feet as Izic tumbled by.
George broke into the open. Quentin gunned a pass so hard he heard the air inside the ball ping when it hit George’s hands, but George held on, because that was what George did. The big tight end tucked the ball and turned upfield. He made it to the 32-yard line before linebacker Bob Merrill grabbed him from behind, slowing him enough for Ciudad Juarez to land a hard head-to-head hit.
Whistles blew; the zebe signaled a first down.
Quentin called his team to huddle up, then heard more whistles to his left: Izic the Weird was still on the ground, rolling slightly. To’s team doctor flew onto the field. Quentin jogged over to the fallen player, as did To defensive end Johnny Mushet.
“Odin’s Beard,” Mushet said. “You see that hit?”
“Sort of,” Quentin said.
Mushet shook his helmeted head. “Never seen a fullback move like that before. Montagne is a beast”
Izic sat up, weak and wobbly. The Warrior raised a middle hand out to Mushet, who grabbed it and pulled the Warrior to his feet. Izic stumbled toward the sidelines under his own power.
Quentin strode to his huddle. Becca stood in the middle of the second row, right behind Bud-O-Shwek. There was a gouge on the left side of her helmet, cutting through two of the three Kraken tentacles there. The right shoulder of her black jersey had been torn open, letting the white-lined orange numbers there hang askew. Blue Iomatt stains lined her forearm and leg armor.
Quentin hadn’t worried about the blitz, because he’d known Becca would be there to protect him. He’d taken a couple of hits that afternoon, but nothing serious. Even Ciudad Juarez herself had blitzed twice: both times, Becca had kept the lethal strong safety at bay. With Becca once again at fullback, things felt good, things felt normal.
Unlike the debacle at D’Oni, Quentin had plenty of time to throw. That — combined with the absence of Pirates outside linebacker Richard Damge, still suspended from his lethal late hit in Week 7 — made it impossible for the Pirates to stop the Krakens’ offensive assault. Ionath had marched up and down the field all afternoon.
Quentin leaned into the huddle.
“All right, Krakens, let’s put this one to bed. I-formation, wide-set, off-tackle right fullback lead. On three, on three ... ready?”
“Break!”
GFL WEEK NINE ROUNDUP
Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network
Home
Away
Wabash Wolfpack
35
Alimum Armada
10
Buddha City Elite
14
Orbiting Death
21
D’Oni Coelacanths
10
Bartel Water Bugs
17
Coranadillana Cloud Killers
14
Isis Ice Storm
17
Ionath Krakens
42
To Pirates
24
Vik Vanguard
33
Themala Dreadnaughts
7
Bord Brigands
9
Yall Criminals
48
D’Kow War Dogs
15
Texas Earthlings
17
McMurdo Murderers
14
Jang Atom Smashers
10
Shorah Warlords
10
Jupiter Jacks
12
Sheb Stalkers
28
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
24
Both OS1 (8-0) and Ionath (8-0) won their Week 9 tilts, setting up a monumental regular-season clash to determine first place in the Planet Division and possibly seal home-field advantage for the divisional playoffs. The winner of that game will lock up a playoff berth.
Ionath’s high-energy offense burned To (5-3) by a score of 42-24. Quentin Barnes threw four touchdown passes, all to different receivers. Ju Tweedy rushed for a season-high 143 yards, adding two touchdowns of his own.
“We’ve got our house in order,” Tweedy said. “The Pirates have a good D, but we have a better offense.”
This was the Pirates’ second straight loss, dropping them into a tie for fourth place with Wabash (5-3).
OS1 stayed undefeated with a 21-14 dogfight against Buddha City (4-4). The back-and-forth affair saw five ties or lead changes as the squads traded touchdowns. Death QB Condor Adrienne put up the winning score in the fourth quarter on a 35-yard TD strike to receiver Brazilia.
Yall (6-2) took over third place in the Planet, courtesy of a 48-9 drubbing of Bord (3-5). The Criminals have won four straight, averaging 37 points a game during that span. Yall has not given up a touchdown in their last two games.
“Defense is on top, and offense can’t be stopped,” said Criminals defensive tackle Anthony Meaders. “We’ll make it to the playoffs, and then, look out.”
In the Solar Division, Vik (7-1) posted a 33-7 margin on Themala (3-5) to stay in first place. Bartel (6-2) got their winning ways back against winless D’Oni (0-8), handing the Coelacanths a narrow 17-10 defeat. Jupiter (6-2) edged past Shorah (3-5) by a score of 12-10.
Texas kicker Gregg Anderson kept the Earthlings (5-3) firmly in fourth place in the Solar. His last-second field goal lifted Texas 17-16 over D’Kow (3-5).
Relegation Watch
McMurdo (1-7) actually has a glimmer of hope to stay in Tier One, thanks to their 14-10 upset over Jang (2-6). This was the first-ever Tier One win for the Murderers franchise. With four games remaining in the season, McMurdo has the head-to-head tiebreaker should the squad finish with the same record as the Atom Smashers.
Deaths
McMurdo defensive tackle Buh-Ga-Mon, who suffered a broken spinal column in a fumble-recovery pile-up against Jang. No Atom Smasher player will get credit for the kill. GFL Commissioner Rob Froese has already ruled the death legal and incidental.
Offensive Player of the Week
Ionath quarterback Quentin Barnes, who threw for 38
4 yards and four touchdowns against To.
Defensive Player of the Week
Sheb cornerback Fairmont, who had three interceptions against Neptune (4-4). Fairmont’s final interception of Scarlet Fliers quarterback Adam Gurri came late in the fourth quarter, sealing the win for Sheb (3-5).
43
Week Ten:
Ionath Krakens
at OS1 Orbiting Death
PLANET DIVISION
SOLAR DIVISION
8-0
Ionath Krakens
7-1
Vik Vanguard
8-0
OS1 Orbiting Death
6-2
Bartel Water Bugs
6-2
Yall Criminals
6-2
Jupiter Jacks
5-3
To Pirates
5-3
Texas Earthlings
5-3
Wabash Wolfpack
4-4
Neptune Scarlet Fliers
4-4
Buddha City Elite
3-5
Bord Brigands
4-4
Isis Ice Storm
3-5
D’Kow War Dogs
3-5
Themala Dreadnaughts
3-5
Sheb Stalkers
2-6
Alimum Armada
3-5
Shorah Warlords
0-8
Coranadillana Cloud Killers
2-6
Jang Atom Smashers
0-8
D’Oni Coelacanths
1-7
McMurdo Murderers
SOME AWAY GAMES REQUIRED DAYS of travel. Sometimes, the round trip took more than a week. Other times, the Touchback couldn’t return home at all; it had to travel from one game straight to the next, more a troop ship carrying warriors from front to front than a team bus taking players to a stadium.
