THE ALL-PRO (Galactic Football League)

by Scott Sigler

  “I’m what, Villani? Supposed to be dead?”

  Anna recovered instantly. She leaned back in her cushy chair, waved a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, I’m quite sure.”

  “Right,” Yolanda said. “You wouldn’t know a thing.”

  Froese waved Yolanda forward as if the exchange had never happened. “This is Yolanda Davenport, reporter for Galaxy Sports Magazine.”

  “We know,” Gredok said. “She is the one that printed all of those lies about my players.”

  Yolanda shot Gredok a strange look, eyes narrowed in anger, then frustration. Quentin wondered what was that all about?

  Yolanda gritted her teeth, then crutch-walked around the desk to stand next to Commissioner Froese.

  For the first time in the meeting, Froese smiled, showing his strange red teeth. “Yolanda has uncovered some critical information pertaining to this investigation. She has been kind enough to share tonight’s cover story with me, right before publication. I think you’ll all find it of interest.”

  Froese lifted his left hand, palm-up. A holodisplay flickered to life. His right index finger tapped at icons. Then, a holotank lowered from the ceiling. In it, the Galaxy Sports Magazine logo played across a loop-holo of Ju Tweedy in Krakens Orange. His bloody right hand pointed somewhere off the picture, his bloody left fist pounded his chest armor. Under the helmet, a repeating snarl of triumph. Behind him, a slightly out-of-focus sea of flatblack and crystal blue.

  “Hey,” Quentin said. “Is that from today’s game?”

  Yolanda nodded. “News as it happens.”

  “Damn,” Ju said. “I look mega-awesome.”

  At the bottom of the repeating image, a headline fuzzed into clarity.

  INNOCENT! JU TWEEDY CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES IN GRACE MCDERMOT’S MURDER.

  Anna stood. “This is ridiculous! I know the Madderch Chief of Police. There’s no way Ju has been cleared of charges!”

  “That’s why you’re here,” Froese said. “So you can’t discuss things with the Chief of Police, a discussion that might impact the story.”

  Yolanda smiled a smile of payback. “The Chief is seeing the story now. My colleague is giving him a chance to respond just moments before this goes live all across the galaxy. My investigation discovered evidence that the Madderch police misplaced evidence that not only shows Ju has an alibi for the time of the murder, but that implicates another sentient as the killer. A sentient that works for you, Villani.”

  Villani sneered at Yolanda, then strode toward the office door. She hadn’t made it three steps before Leiba came around the desk and blocked the door, his big frame covering ten feet in a blink of an eye. Maybe he was retired, but this guy could still move.

  Anna stopped. She glared at Leiba, her hands balling into tight fists. Quentin saw a drop of blood fall from between her fingers to land on the floor.

  “You’ll need to stay here for a bit,” Leiba said. “Probably an hour, while the charges are officially dropped.”

  Anna turned to stare at Ju, her red lips curled away from perfect white teeth, her made-up eyes narrow with hate. “This isn’t over, Tweedy.”

  Ju smiled, wide and warm. “I’d say it is. And I’m on the cover of Galaxy Sports. All because of you, little lady. Thanks.” He turned to face Froese. “So, now that I’ve been properly vindicated, can I get the hell out of here?”

  “You’re suspended for one game,” Froese said.

  “But I’m innocent! Yolanda’s article says so.”

  “Innocent of murder,” Froese said. “Not of crossing me. I told you I’d make an example of you, Tweedy. For avoiding meeting requests by the league office, you are suspended one game and fined one hundred thousand credits.”

  Ju stood and leaned forward, huge and intimidating. “But we have the Lu Juggernauts next week!”

  The display didn’t phase Froese. He pointed to the door. “That’s not my problem. Out.”

  Ju kicked the floor, then walked to the door. Quentin stood to follow him out.

  “Not so fast, Barnes,” the Commissioner said.

  Quentin turned. What now?

  “I’m fining you for hitting that referee. Ten thousand credits.”

  “But that was an accident!”

  “Right, because what you were trying to do was use your helmet as a weapon against a defenseless player. Would you rather be suspended a game for that?”

  Quentin quickly shook his head. “No, I’m good with the fine.”

  “And a hundred thousand for avoiding my meeting requests. Same as your teammate.”

  So much money! “Come on! Ju was innocent! You just said so yourself. I don’t deserve to be fined for saving an innocent sentient.”

  “You abused diplomatic immunity, interfered in a murder investigation, aided and abetted a known suspect and your actions contributed to the death of an innocent OS1 citizen. I could kick you out of the league forever for those things. Instead, you get a fine and end up with the best running back in the game. Now, do you want to accept my judgment, or shall I come up with additional penalties?”

  Quentin closed his eyes and rubbed his face. Froese had him. Again. One-tenth of his salary to be done with this whole situation and keep his friend on the team? Yeah, that was worth it.

  “I accept,” Quentin said. “Can I go now?”

  Froese nodded.

  Quentin turned to Yolanda. “And what do you have to say for yourself? You tricked me into thinking you were doing a story on me.”

  “I was doing a story on you.”

  “I mean a fun story,” Quentin said. “You did a hatchet job.”

  “I never told you the story would be fun,” Yolanda said. “I’m a reporter, Quentin. You knew that. You saw what you wanted to see.”

  “And you didn’t correct me.”

  “That’s not my job. And just because I was wrong about Ju doesn’t mean it was a hatchet job. I stand by the rest of the story.”

  Quentin huffed. “Right. And how did you find out about the Pirates and all of that? Ever think you’re wrong about that, too?”

  “I’m not. I have my sources and stand by my story.”

  Quentin shook his head. How could he have once thought her so beautiful? “Lady, you made a galaxy hate me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I stood by my team and you crucified me. Has anyone thrown garbage on you for this story?”

  “You’re complaining about garbage?” She pointed to her bruised face. “You think I got all of this from falling down the stairs, you ungrateful ass? Ju was already accused of murder before my first story ran, Quentin. I had nothing to do with that. And if it wasn’t for my new story, he’d still be wanted for murder. So I think I made things right, don’t you?”

  Quentin shook his head. “You made it up to Ju, sure. But not to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. Until you do right by me, don’t bother talking to me again.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t.”

  Quentin walked to the door. He stopped, looked back at his team owner, the sentient that had stood by Quentin when the rest of the galaxy had called for his head.

  “Gredok? Are you coming?”

  The Quyth Leader stood and walked over. He stopped at the door. “Commissioner Froese, I told you that when Ju was found innocent, you owed me an apology. I’ll be waiting for an official memo declaring such. And Anna?”

  Villani glared at him.

  “Enjoy today’s victory,” Gredok said. “I will look forward to hosting you in my suite at Ionath Stadium next year.”

  Gredok walked out. Quentin and his newly innocent teammate followed.

  GFL WEEK SIX ROUNDUP

  Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network

  BYE WEEKS: Alimum Armada, Coranadillana Cloud Killers, Bartel Water Bugs, New Rodina Astronauts, Isis Ice Storm, Jupiter Jacks.

  THE GAME OF THE WEEK lived up to billing as two Planet Division undefeateds went head-to-head. The Wabash Wolfpack (5-0) won a 28-22 thriller over
the To Pirates (5-1) to take sole possession of first place.

  Texas (2-4) won a critical relegation match up against fellow Solar Division bottom-dweller Sala (1-4). The 13-10 Earthlings’ victory leaves the Intrigue all alone in last place and gives Texas a critical head-to-head tiebreaker should both teams finish the season with equal records.

  “Our second win and it won’t be our last,” said Earthlings linebacker Alonzo Castro. “Texas is in Tier One to stay.”

  Yall (4-2) won its third straight game following the return of quarterback Rick Renaud with a 42-10 drubbing of the Hittoni Hullwalkers (0-6). The Criminals average 42.2 points per contest when Renaud plays a full game, 13.5 when he does not.

  In a nasty, hard-fought contest, the Orbiting Death (3-3) topped the Ionath Krakens (4-2) by a score of 35-21. The Death’s Condor Adrienne made a statement that he is the best young QB in the game, throwing for 422 yards and four touchdowns against a porous Krakens secondary. Ionath starting quarterback Quentin Barnes was tossed out of the game for unsportsmanlike conduct late in the first quarter, adding to Ionath’s difficulties. Backup Krakens quarterback Don Pine was knocked out in the second quarter. Third-stringer Yitzhak Goldman finished up the second half, going 12-for-25 for 86 yards, no touchdowns and two interceptions.

  Deaths

  No deaths reported this week.

  Offensive Player of the Week

  OS1 quarterback Condor Adrienne, who threw for 422 yards and four touchdowns in a win over the Ionath Krakens.

  Defensive Player of the Week

  Wabash linebacker Ricky Craig, who had seven solo tackles, a sack and a critical late-game interception in the Wolfpack’s win over the To Pirates.

  17

  WEEK SEVEN:

  LU JUGGERNAUTS

  at IONATH KRAKENS

  PLANET DIVISION

  5-0 Wabash Wolfpack

  5-1 To Pirates

  4-1 Isis Ice Storm (bye)

  4-1 Themala Dreadnaughts

  4-2 Ionath Krakens

  4-2 Yall Criminals

  3-3 OS1 Orbiting Death

  1-4 Alimum Armada (bye)

  1-4 Coranadillana Cloud Killers (bye)

  0-6 Hittoni Hullwalkers

  0-6 Lu Juggernauts

  SOLAR DIVISION

  5-1 Neptune Scarlet Fliers

  4-1 Jupiter Jacks (bye)

  3-2 Bartel Water Bugs (bye)

  3-3 Shorah Warlords

  3-3 D’Kow War Dogs

  3-3 Vik Vanguard

  2-3 Bord Brigands

  2-3 New Rodina Astronauts (bye)

  2-4 Jang Atom Smashers

  2-4 Texas Earthlings

  1-4 Sala Intrigue

  THE ATMOSPHERE PROCESSORS were on the blink again. Fog filled Ionath City, far thicker than it had been for the game four weeks earlier against the Cloud Killers. To make matters worse, the lev-tracks were down. An entire city found its public transportation out of commission, causing the sidewalks to fill with bodies of several species.

  The fog gave Quentin a rare opportunity for a walk. Choto accompanied him, as always, although they didn’t talk anymore. Quentin’s continued support of Tara the Freak had strained his relationship with all of the Quyth Warriors. Choto protected Quentin, but the linebacker/bodyguard didn’t speak unless spoken to.

  The fog was so thick that, with a sweatshirt hood up, Quentin did not draw stares and throngs of autograph seekers. For this afternoon, at least, he was just some really big Human walking along, minding his own business.

  He’d been summoned by Gredok. Gredok had specifically instructed that Danny Lundy was not to attend — just Quentin. Quentin had the option of refusing the request or insisting that Danny attend, but had chosen instead to simply comply. Gredok had stood by Quentin during the turmoil caused by Yolanda’s article. Aside from the contract negotiations, Quentin had never felt so comfortable around the team owner. Quentin would give Gredok the benefit of the doubt that this meeting would not entail contract discussions. If it did, Quentin could always leave.

  Still, any conversation with Gredok required some prep time, a chance to clear his head, get his thoughts straight. A walk around the stadium on a foggy afternoon did just the trick.

  Walk completed, Quentin gently eased his way through the packed sidewalks and entered the Krakens building. He took his usual route around the right side of the cavernous lobby. The black, domed ceiling sparkled with dots of light, a representation of the inhabited universe. The brightest dots marked the planets that fielded Tier One teams. The stars had changed since last season; the lights of Chillich and Mars were gone, replaced by the glow of Earth and Orbital Station One. Which lights would fade at the end of this season?

  Walking around the right side of the lobby led Quentin past the Ionath Krakens’ proudest relic, the GFL championship trophy from 2665. Slow-motion holos surrounding the trophy showed the man the press once dubbed “The Saint of Ionath” — Galaxy Bowl MVP Bobby “Orbital Assault” Adrojnik. In front of the GFL championship trophy was the small case that held the evidence for Bobby’s canonization: his Galaxy Bowl MVP trophy and the GFL championship ring that he never got to wear. Shortly after winning the biggest sporting event in the universe, Bobby had died under suspicious circumstances.

  As Quentin passed by these talismans, he ran his hands across the cases, fingers barely touching the glass, a tactile reminder that — while they were so close, so damn close — he would never touch actual trophies until he and his teammates earned them for themselves.

  The Krakens were 4-and-2, one game behind Wabash and a half-game behind the To Pirates. Despite the loss to the Orbiting Death, it was no empty wish to think that this could be the year the Krakens put a second GFL championship trophy in that case. All he had to do was lead his team into the playoffs — from there, just three wins away from glory, from immortality.

  He took the elevator to the top floor. When he stepped out, Gredok’s well-dressed thugs smiled in greeting. Quentin wanted nothing to do with those sentients, yet they felt some kind of status in knowing him, knowing they worked for the same boss that he did. All of them were dangerous, to say the least; Quentin did the smart thing and simply returned the smiles.

  Messal the Efficient slid into view in his normal fashion, out of sight one second, there the next.

  “Elder Barnes! Warrior Choto! Welcome-welcome. I trust you did not have trouble finding transportation?”

  “We walked,” Quentin said. “Nice day for it.”

  “Oh, of course, Elder Barnes. A walk in the fog must have been delightful. And I’m sure you were able to relax knowing that our brave Choto was there to guard you against any unexpected danger.”

  Quentin laughed softly. Messal was the undisputed heavyweight champion of sucking up.

  “Well,” the Worker said, “Gredok is expecting you. Follow me, please.”

  Messal led them past statues, paintings and holosculpts that were each probably worth more than Quentin made in a season (certainly more after you factored in Commissioner Froese’s fines).

  Messal opened the double doors that led to Gredok’s private chamber, then stepped aside. “I think you will enjoy this meeting very much, Elder Barnes.”

  “Uh ... thanks.” Quentin entered. As usual, Choto stayed outside. Messal closed the doors.

  Quentin’s eyes quickly adjusted to the low light of Gredok’s circular meeting room. He automatically looked to the white pedestal, saw that the black throne sat empty a fraction of a second before realizing that the expensively dressed Gredok was standing on the floor.

  Standing there, to the right of a large Human that Quentin had never seen before.

  Doc Patah hovered on Gredok’s left.

  At first, Quentin thought the Human was another of Gredok’s goons. The man was big enough for it. But he wore plain brown cotton pants and a simple brown tunic — not the tailored finery of the other thugs.

  “Barnes,” Gredok said. “Welcome.”

  Quentin nodded
at him. “Gredok. I came alone, as you asked. What can I do for you today?”

  “Today, Barnes, is about what I can do for you.”

  The Human stranger smiled. A warm smile, inviting. What was this?

  “Okay,” Quentin said. “Hit me.”

  “Barnes, do you remember when I said I am a powerful friend to have?”

  Quentin did. That conversation had come last season, after the Krakens had lost to the Wabash Wolfpack, humiliating Gredok before his rival owner Gloria Ogawa. That game had dropped Ionath to 1-and-4 — last place, most likely to be relegated back to Tier Two at season’s end. Gredok had promised Quentin that if the Krakens could stay in Tier One, Gredok would throw all of his resources behind finding ...

  No.

  No, it could not be.

  Quentin stared at the big Human.

  “So perceptive, as always,” Gredok said. “Quentin Barnes, meet Cillian Carbonaro. Your father.”

  The man’s smile widened even further. He sniffed, wiped his left eye with one stroke of his right hand.

  Quentin stared. No thoughts. It could not be.

  “It’s true,” Doc Patah said, the metallic voice of his backpack’s speakerfilm filling the chamber. “I ran the genetics tests myself, Quentin. Twice.”

  It just could not be.

  “Quentin,” the man said. “I know you’ve got a lot of questions. I know you might ... might hate me. But I haven’t seen you in so long. Oh High One, I missed you so.”

  The man took a half-step forward. He spread his arms, just a bit, hands maybe a foot from his hips, but the offer of a hug shone like a single star against an all-black night.

  Could not be.

  But it was.

  Quentin’s feet led him forward. A haze, a blur.

  Quentin Barnes put his arms around his father and squeezed him tight.

  • • •

  A QUESTION THAT QUENTIN had never considered — after you meet your father for the first time in your life, what then?

  His dad made the suggestion: go get a beer. Quentin agreed, moving more on autopilot than anything else. Gredok had his limo drive them to the Blessed Lamb bar in the Human district. The mostly silent drive took them to the one place where Quentin could be in public, out in the open and not be swamped by fans and autograph seekers.