by Scott Sigler
How about aiding and abetting a fugitive in a murder investigation?
How about abusing the GFL’s diplomatic immunity power to shelter a murder suspect from the law?
How about illegal contract negotiations with a franchise other than the Ionath Krakens?
How about extensive drug smuggling?
And — what might even be the most disturbing of them all for true sports fans — how about points-shaving and even possibly throwing games outright?
LAWLESS
Ju Tweedy was undoubtedly last season’s story of the year. The dominant running back’s abilities made him a highly paid legend on Orbital Station One, where he was a fixture in the Orbiting Death’s flat-black and metalflake-red. Ju was never known for kind deeds; he is big, strong and vicious. Sentients love to watch him play.
All of that faded when Ju allegedly murdered Grace McDermot, a Human. Ju had a relationship with the victim, a relationship that reportedly went sour. Witnesses put him at the scene of the crime. Police reports show that McDermot was beaten to death by a Human or a HeavyG — someone big, strong and vicious.
Did the OS1 police question Ju Tweedy?
No, they did not. Why? Because Quentin Barnes helped Ju Tweedy flee Orbital Station One within hours of McDermot’s death. Barnes then orchestrated a contract for Ju with the Krakens. That contract gave Ju diplomatic immunity and — as long as that contract is in effect — guaranteed he could not be prosecuted for the crime.
Yes, that Quentin Barnes. A source informed this reporter that shortly after McDermot’s murder, Barnes took his private yacht to OS1. Witnesses say Barnes was seen at Chucky Chong’s League-Style House of Chow, a restaurant in the city of Madderch that possibly sheltered Ju Tweedy shortly after McDermot was murdered. Witnesses recognized not only Barnes, but also several other Krakens players as well as members of the Coranadillana Cloud Killers. The two teams reportedly fought over Ju, a fight that destroyed much of the restaurant and ended in gunfire.
The Krakens spirited Ju away from Chucky Chong’s, but the gun battle continued out into the streets of Madderch. Yepew the Elderly, a innocent Quyth Leader bystander, was killed in the crossfire, shot through the eye and left on the sidewalk like so much trash. If you’re keeping score, there have been no arrests in Yepew’s death, either.
OS1 police records show that shortly after the fight at Chucky Chong’s, Ionath Krakens owner Gredok the Splithead filed a request for police protection, citing his GFL right of diplomatic immunity. Police records also show that the request named Krakens players protected by that same right, players including Quentin Barnes, Ju Tweedy’s brother John and Ju himself.
Ju Tweedy, you see, had just signed a contract with the Krakens. Therefore, the police couldn’t touch him. Two deaths, a running gun-battle in the streets, a destroyed restaurant in his wake and not only did Ju Tweedy walk away, he suited up in the Orange and the Black just one week later and led the Krakens to a win against the Lu Juggernauts.
POINTS SHAVING?
Perhaps you don’t mind Barnes aiding and abetting a murder suspect? After all, the GFL is about winning at all costs. So if Barnes is willing to do anything to win, what could possibly make him shave points?
For the uninitiated, “shaving points” is a practice where players want their team to win, but to win by less than the point spread. Say the gambling sites favor the Krakens by six points over the Sheb Stalkers. Krakens players might bet on the Stalkers, then make sure Ionath wins by five points or less. If you are a player, this shady practice allows your team to win but lets you directly control the betting results of the game.
* * *
Why did Barnes pay such an enormous amount to a known fixer? And where did Barnes get that kind of money, when his salary is only 1.2 megacredits a year?
* * *
Is Barnes involved in points shaving? This reporter can’t say for certain. What this reporter can say, however, is that Barnes was directly interacting with Mopuk the Sneaky, a low-level gangster who has been missing for the last year.
Yes, that Quentin Barnes.
Financial records indicate Barnes paid Mopuk the Sneaky 4.1 megacredits in the seventh week of last year’s Tier Two season. Mopuk the Sneaky is well known as a “fixer,” a sentient that can arrange for teams to win by less than the point spread.
Why did Barnes pay such an enormous amount to a known fixer? And where did Barnes get that kind of money, when his salary is only 1.2 megacredits a year? These are questions only Barnes can answer.
Perhaps this seems a conspiracy theory. Perhaps it seems ridiculous that a then 19-year-old quarterback could manipulate the older players around him.
This reporter would agree with you, had she not also uncovered the largest player-involved drug smuggling incident in league history.
DRUG SMUGGLING
It is a well-known fact that the Creterakian Empire and the Empire Bureau of Species Interaction (EBSI) turn a blind eye to any smuggling that may occur on team busses. Most owners, after all, are involved in organized crime. Despite GFL Commissioner Rob Froese’s claims that he will “clean up and legitimize the GFL,” gang lords continue to use team busses as a major distribution route for anything from drugs to information to sentient trafficking. It is a seedy side of the football business that has always been considered a minor and necessary evil.
What is less known to the football-watching audience at large, however, is that the EBSI also turns a blind eye to players smuggling contraband. The unwritten, unspoken rule states that customs officials will ignore whatever a player can carry on his or her person, as long as it is not weaponry or explosives.
This practice is ignored because the amounts tend to be so small. It isn’t worth putting the expensive athletes at risk by allowing System Police to search them. Any such contact creates the possibility of racist-based violence, something the GFL has taken great pains to avoid.
But the key phrase in the paragraph above is “small amounts.”
This reporter has uncovered information indicating that Quentin Barnes coerced his teammates into a unified drug-smuggling effort following Ionath’s 2682 game against the Bigg Diggers. It is unknown exactly how much this illegal operation garnered, but reports are it was near five megacredits worth of material.
Yes, that Quentin Barnes.
This reporter has not uncovered any additional large smuggling efforts, but she is reminded of the old Ki saying: “Where there is blood, there is a wound.” Just because we can’t find evidence of another mass smuggling effort doesn’t mean another effort — or efforts — does not exist.
PLAYING THE FIELD
This article shows that Barnes has participated in unsavory activities, but — so far — none that are technically illegal. If he has done these things, he has been very careful to avoid anything that could jeopardize his privileged standing as an active player in the Galactic Football League.
Almost anything.
This reporter has learned that as a child, Barnes idolized the To Pirates and dreamed of someday playing for them. During his rookie season of 2682, that dream possibly led Barnes to meetings with the Pirates, meetings that are a direct violation of GFL regulations. When a team is promoted from Tier Two to Tier One, player contracts are protected for two years. Those players can be cut or traded, but cannot declare free agency, nor can they be recruited by another team. The rule is so specific that other teams are not even allowed to talk with protected players, yet that is exactly what happened with the To Pirates and Quentin Barnes.
* * *
“Barnes loves the Pirates. It’s all he ever talked about. If he had a chance to play for them, he’d take it.”
— EZEKIEL GRABER
* * *
Ezekiel Graber is the head coach of the Micovi Raiders, Barnes’ Tier Three team where he played his first four seasons of professional football.
“Barnes loves the Pirates,” Graber told this reporter. “It’s all he ever talked about. If he
had a chance to play for them, he’d take it.”
Eyewitness accounts place Barnes in contact with Maygon, a talent scout from the Pirates, during Barnes’ Tier Two rookie season. Had the Krakens not made it to Tier One, Barnes’s contract would not have been protected. He could have signed with the Pirates.
At the end of this season, however, Barnes will be able to sign with the Pirates, the Krakens or any team he wishes. He will be the most coveted free agent in football. He has the potential to become one of the highest-paid athletes in the galaxy. Pirate’s quarterback Don Zimmer is clearly in the twilight of his career. Will we see Barnes in the Blood Red next season?
If so, now it will happen legally.
Because if Quentin Barnes is anything, he is careful. The same methodical, surgical approach you see in his passing game is reflected in his off-field activities. And what may be “rotten” about the GFL’s new poster boy is that he could be just as corrupt as the gangsters that really run this league.
Possible betting on his own team.
Possible points-shaving.
Aiding and abetting a murder suspect.
Abusing the GFL’s diplomatic immunity policy to protect that murder suspect.
Abusing the GFL’s diplomatic immunity policy to initiate the biggest player-based drug-smuggling incident in league history.
Illegal contact with another franchise.
Yes, that Quentin Barnes.
And after all of this, will he be disciplined? Will he be arrested? Will he at least be questioned?
No. If anything, his actions will be rewarded with one of the biggest contracts in the history of sport.
Something is rotten in Denmark, all right. Even if only some of these things are true, it leaves a black eye on the GFL and on the Ionath Krakens.■
* * *
• • •
QUENTIN STARED at the messageboard, part of his mind hoping this was a prank, a mistake, that it wasn’t happening, not really happening, not to him. Everyone knew his secrets now. Everyone in the galaxy. What was he going to do? Would this ruin the season?
“Elder Barnes?”
Quentin looked up. Messal closed his left pedipalp hand, a palm-up holo vanished as he did. Messal’s eye glowed a translucent green.
“Gredok requests our presence.”
Quentin closed his eyes, hung his head. Gredok. All of this, after Danny the Dolphin had enraged the owner with outlandish contract demands, after Gredok’s humiliating trip to Commissioner Froese’s office on the Regulator. Quentin had tried to do the right thing, but now all of it seemed so very wrong.
“Okay.” He stood. “I know, no shower, so let’s head right to his office.”
“No, Elder Barnes,” Messal said. “He doesn’t want you in his office. He’s called for a press conference.”
“A press conference? But the article just came out. When does he want a press conference?”
“Now, Elder Barnes,” Messal said. “If you would please follow me to the media room?”
For just a moment, Quentin thought about making a run for it. But he thought back to that day in the walk-in refrigerator with Mister Sam, how easy it would have been for the police to find a tall, gangly 11-year-old. He couldn’t hide then and he couldn’t hide now.
Quentin stood and followed Messal out of the locker room.
• • •
MESSAL LED QUENTIN THROUGH the door of Ionath City Stadium’s media room. This was the place where Quentin had done his post-game press conferences last season. As he walked in, he stared at the table, the chairs, stared at anything but what waited for him past the clear crysteel wall. Same table, same black top, same orange skirting tastefully draped around it. Four black chairs behind the table, microphone stands sitting on the tabletop in front of each one. The wall behind the chairs showed slowly moving logos for Junkie Gin, Rookman Power Company and Sayed Luxury Yachts.
Messal pulled out a chair. Might as well have been an executioner waiting with an open noose. Quentin stepped forward and sat. When he did, he had no choice but to finally look out through the floor-to-ceiling crysteel wall to the fifty reporters beyond.
No, more than fifty this time. Ki, Dolphin, Quyth Leader, Creterakian, Sklorno, Human, HeavyG, Aqus, Leekee, maybe even a couple others hidden by the press of at least seventy-five bodies crammed into a space designed for maybe forty. Creterakians flew, circling to stay above the other reporters’ heads. The stingray-like Harrah members of the media just floated near the ceiling, wide wings softly undulating to keep them in place.
As soon as he looked, the media monster opened its many mouths and began to scream for blood.
“Quentin! Quentin!”
“Elder Barnes will not be taking questions,” Messal said. “Gredok the Splithead will be here momentarily.”
The reporters stopped screaming. They looked at each other in surprise. That bit of information seemed to shock them. Quentin leaned back and waved to Messal, who scurried forward to listen.
“Why are they acting like that? They never heard Gredok talk before?”
“Not as far as I know,” Messal said. “I have worked for Gredok for ten years and in that time he has never spoken directly to the media.”
What did that mean? Gredok had never addressed the media directly? Why now? Was he going to hang Quentin out to dry? Tell the media that the racist criminal from the Purist Nation was no longer welcome in Ionath?
Whatever Gredok had to say, Quentin would just sit and watch. Things had spiraled far beyond his control.
The many-headed monster’s babble dropped to a murmur. All of the heads turned to the right. Quentin turned as well and saw Gredok the Splithead standing at the edge of the table, staring back at the reporters.
Gredok slowly walked to the podium. Messal grabbed a chair and slid it back. Gredok crawled into the chair, then stepped from it onto the tabletop. With Quentin still seated, the move made Gredok the tallest being in the room.
Gredok looked out and down at the seated reporters. “I will now take questions.”
“Gredok! Gredok!”
He pointed a pedipalp finger at a reporter. “You.”
“Jonathan Sandoval, Net Colony News Syndicate. Gredok, are you surprised by this article?”
“Nothing that Yolanda Davenport does could ever surprise me. She is the worst kind of journalist, promoting sensationalism for her own benefit.”
“So you’re saying the article isn’t true?”
“I am saying that Quentin Barnes is innocent of any wrongdoing. This article is a slanderous attempt to pad Davenport’s career.”
Sandoval turned to face Quentin. “Quentin, how upsetting will it be to see Don Pine replace you as the starter?”
Gredok stomped his right foot on the tabletop, creating a little bang of noise that made every head turn to face him once again. Quentin saw Gredok in profile, saw his big, clear cornea swirling with black. Fake anger. Gredok was trying to use emotions like playing cards — intimidating, shocking, dealing the reporters a hand that he already knew he could trump.
The reporters, at least most of them, immediately bought into the charade. A crysteel window separated them from the gang lord, but everyone in the room knew this wasn’t just some impetuous athlete. The room’s mood had changed. For perhaps the first time in some of their careers, the reporters sensed they needed to choose their words carefully.
“All questions will be addressed to me,” Gredok said. “None of you will speak to my player. The media has demonstrated what happens when players are open and honest, when we allow free access to their lives.”
The seventy-five-headed monster fell uncomfortably still, waited for the small but powerful black-furred sentient to continue. He milked the moment, staring each one down in turn.
“Quentin Barnes is the Ionath Krakens’ starting quarterback,” Gredok said. “We stand behind him one hundred percent. We believe in him. We will defend him against all accusations. He will start against the Isi
s Ice Storm. Because you members of the media seem so challenged by things like basic comprehension, I will repeat it again — Quentin Barnes is the quarterback of the Ionath Krakens.”
Quentin stared at the Quyth Leader. From the first words of that article, Quentin had wondered if Gredok would finally lose all patience. Not only was Gredok keeping his cool, he was defending Quentin. Gredok’s anger was fake, calculated, but his support of his young quarterback?
Totally genuine.
Gredok turned to face Quentin. “Barnes, I will handle this. You may leave.”
A tug at his wrist. Quentin looked at Messal, who was gesturing for Quentin to follow. Quentin stood and walked behind Gredok, to the door that led back to the locker room. Before he left, he heard Gredok again address the media.
“I will take more questions,” he said. “Ask what you will, but I strongly suggest you address me with respect. Now, who is next?”
10
PRESEASON WEEK FOUR:
JANUARY 22 – 26, 2684
JANUARY 25, 2684
Quentin dropped back five steps, planted his left foot. The crashing pads and angry grunts of his teammates echoed through an empty Ionath Stadium, filling the football temple with a hollow noise. This was the last time they would practice full-contact. In just two days, on Sunday, January 27, this place would fill with the insane roar of 185,000 fans.
He knew who he wanted to target but properly scanned through his receivers anyway: In the span of a second-and-a-half, he saw Milford on an out pattern — covered; Hawick on a post — just a step open, but he knew Hawick’s capabilities and didn’t need to test them; Halawa — covered, but she would read the defense and change her pattern to a short hook, but he didn’t throw that timing pattern.
His fourth choice was the one he really needed to test.
Tara the Freak.
