The Starter

by Scott Sigler

  “They’re mostly for show,” Manny said. “You could learn with just two week’s training. Sail the galaxy solo. Now, if you sign to endorse my company, you will represent us for the next five years. We get two full commercial shoots per off-season, one per regular season. We have the right to use your face, name, image, and likeness in any ad we choose.”

  “Oh no,” Yitzhak said, his tone suddenly shifting from happy and amazed to serious, even borderline angry. “Quentin gets final approval on all ads.”

  Manny nodded. “Acceptable.”

  “And no regular- or post-season shoots,” Yitzhak said. “Forget it, Manny. You can’t expect a starting quarterback to take time away from the season or the playoffs.”

  Manny looked to the ceiling as he thought, then spoke. “Acceptable. But I will require a commercial shoot one week after the close of the season. That should allow enough time for any bruises and breaks to heal. I need that photogenic face to be very photogenic. Until then, I will use GFL-licensed still shot and news footage to make one commercial. Acceptable?”

  Yitzhak looked at Quentin. “That sounds fair, Q. Do you agree?”

  Quentin nodded, not really understanding what was happening. He felt that both men were negotiating in good faith, and he trusted Yitzhak. Did this mean his backup quarterback was also his agent?

  “Fine,” Manny said. “Quentin, we have a deal?”

  Quentin chewed at his lower lip. “Look, Elder Sayed, I just don’t see why people are going to buy yachts because I have one. I want to make sure that... you know... you get a fair deal.”

  Manny’s smile widened. He patted Quentin on the shoulder the way an uncle would do to a beloved nephew.

  “Quentin, my boy, that’s for me to worry about. If there’s one thing Manny knows in this universe, it’s what rich men will do with their money to feel young again. I appreciate your concern, but I know exactly what I’m getting into.”

  Quentin looked at Yitzhak, who simply nodded.

  Such a beautiful ship. More than a ship, a home. And all his? He’d never even dreamed of such a thing.

  “Okay,” Quentin said. “Manny Sayed, you have a deal.”

  Manny suddenly started clapping, the clink of jewelry loud in the salon. “Excellent! I’ll make the adjustments to the contract right now, then we can sign. Mister Goldman, will you review the changes?”

  Yitzhak nodded, then wandered around the salon. He ran his fingers over the wooden trim, over sculptures, along the crysteel walls.

  “This ship is really something, Q,” he said. “What are you going to call her?”

  “It already has a name.”

  Yitzhak shrugged. “She has a name. You own her, you can call her whatever you like.”

  Quentin thought a name might pop into his head, but none did. “I don’t know, Zak. The Hypatia sounds kind of... classy.” It did sound classy. Sounded like something a rich man would own.

  Manny waddled over to Yitzhak and handed him the contract box. Yitzhak concentrated, reviewing the details. Quentin looked out a view port at the Touchback, a kilometer away. That was his favorite ship. The Hypatia was beautiful, to be sure, but for all her gloss and polish she did not have a built-in football field.

  Manny brought the box over and offered it to Quentin. Quentin slid his index finger inside. Manny did the same. The machine quickly recorded their genetic makeup, linked up to the Intergalactic Business Database, verified their identities, then gave a low beep to indicate the transaction had been recorded.

  “Congratulations,” Manny said. “You, my young friend, have one of the best ships in the galaxy. I know many a high-ranking Elder that will be very jealous.”

  Quentin nodded, but those words bothered him. He knew what it was like to feel jealousy over the possessions of others... he’d never thought he could make someone feel the same. He didn’t want to make someone feel the same. Still, the deal was done, and if Manny was happy and successful than that was the most important part.

  Yitzhak ran his hand over the polished metal trim one more time. He put his hands at his sides, stared at the surface a little longer, then turned and nodded at Manny.

  “I’ll take one.”

  Quentin laughed at the joke, but Manny clearly didn’t get it.

  “Excellent,” Manny said, his fat face breaking into a wide smile. “You see, Quentin? Five minutes in, and your endorsement has already brought me a sale. Mister Goldman, I’ll have my customization team contact you, and we’ll start building models and material sample decks for your review.”

  Quentin smiled sheepishly, a little embarrassed for his new sponsor. “Manny, relax. Zak is messing with you.”

  “No, I’m not,” Yitzhak said. “Seriously, Manny. This is beautiful work. I want one for myself.”

  Quentin’s smile faded. “Zak, what are you doing? You can’t buy one of these.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he just said they are like fifteen million credits. And not to be a jerk or anything, but I’m the one endorsing Manny, okay? So it wouldn’t be cool if you tried to cut in on that.”

  “I don’t need an endorsement, Quentin,” Yitzhak said. “And I know how much they cost. Trust me, big fella, I can afford it.”

  Quentin looked from Yitzhak to Manny, assuming there still was some kind of a joke, but that now he was the target. Manny had his right hand up, palm flat, a projected holo-interface floating in the air above his skin. His left pointer finger tapped at floating icons, moving information around. Quentin saw Yitzhak’s face in the icons, realized that Manny was creating a customer profile.

  There was no joke. Yitzhak was buying a shucking yacht.

  Manny looked up from his hand. “This just for in-system cruising, or you want the punch drives?”

  “Punch drives,” Yitzhak said. “Gotta have the punch drives.”

  “But... how?” Quentin said. “I mean, it would take me ten seasons to buy one. More, even. Pine couldn’t buy one.”

  “Pine wasted his money,” Yitzhak said. His tone made Quentin wonder how much Yitzhak knew, if he knew that Pine had gambled away his fortune, if he knew that Pine had thrown games to pay back part of that debt.

  “Okay,” Quentin said, “I see your point with Pine. But, I mean... I’m the starting quarterback, and I couldn’t afford this.”

  Yitzhak shrugged. “I tried to tell you, Q. You really don’t make that much.”

  Manny looked up again. “Will you want a courtesan suite?”

  “I’m married.” Yitzhak said.

  “So that’s a yes?”

  Yitzhak laughed. “Happily married, Mister Sayed. So, no on the courtesan suite.”

  “Married?” Quentin said. “You mean, like a wife?”

  “And two kids,” Yitzhak said. He held out his hand and tapped his wrist, calling up a palm-holo. A smiling brunette with her arms around two little boys, both dressed in miniature Krakens uniforms. Their numbers, of course, were both 14 — Yitzhak’s number.

  Yitzhak was smiling, seemed to be waiting for something. People with kids expected some kind of comment.

  “Uh, cute,” Quentin said. “Couple of little future quarterbacks.”

  Yitzhak smiled wider and nodded, then tapped away the palm-up. “That they are. Next to marrying Ahava, little Shem and Kaleb are the best things I’ve ever done.”

  Quentin held back a snort. Yitzhak had the accomplishment of being a professional quarterback in the GFL, and getting married and having kids were the best things he’d ever done? With perspective like that, no wonder he was third string.

  “You should meet them,” Yitzhak said. “Shem wants one of your jerseys, which is a little annoying for Daddy. I haven’t seen them since Gredok sequestered us on the Touchback. Once he lets us go back to Ionath, we’d love to have you over for dinner.”

  Right, dinner with some old couple and a pair of brats? Quentin could think of far more fun things to do.

  “Sure,” he said. “We’ll see if we c
an set that up.”

  Yitzhak laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, right. You just keep going out with your bachelor buddies Tweedy and Yassoud. I remember those days, Q. It’s cool. But if you ever want a home-cooked meal, you let me know.”

  Manny finished his data entry. “Mister Goldman, we will be in touch. Quentin, we will leave the crew on board for security purposes for the rest of the season, no charge. She’ll just stay in orbit around Ionath until then, but you can take her at any time. The crew can go with you, or call for a shuttle down to the surface, whatever you prefer. We’ll be in touch about that first commercial. Acceptable?”

  Quentin looked to Yitzhak, who nodded.

  “Acceptable,” Quentin said to Manny. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

  They shook hands with the man, Manny’s jewelry ringing in time. Virak and Choto led Quentin and Yitzhak back to the shuttle.

  Quentin used the ride back to concentrate, to focus. All these thoughts of yachts, of business, of Manny, and of the Purist Nation were interesting, but they wouldn’t win football games. The time for such things was over. Pre-season preparation was almost complete.

  In the next few hours, the Touchback would begin the flight to the planet Tower. A six-day trip, punching from one shipping-lane point to the next.

  And on the seventh day, he would play his first game in Tier One.

  PRE-SEASON: WEEK FOUR

  From “Species Biology & Football”

  written by Cho-Ah-Huity

  HeavyG: Built for War (& Football)

  Contrary to popular opinion, the HeavyG are not just “really big Humans.” Homo sapiens are the ancestral species, true, but the HeavyG’s genetic makeup has changed so much that they are classified as a completely separate sentient race — Homo pondus.

  While HeavyG and Humans can mate, and often do, only one half of one percent of those couples can produce a pregnant female. Of those pregnancies, only one one-hundredth of a percent produce a living child. This means that offspring are produced only once for roughly every two million matings, a level of reproductive isolation clearly indicating speciation between Homo sapiens and Homo pondus.

  First and foremost in this speciation is the difference in size between the races. The average Human male stands five feet, eleven inches tall and weighs one hundred seventy-five pounds. The average HeavyG male, on the other hand, stands six feet, three inches tall and weighs three hundred forty-eight pounds. This is a massive difference in height-to-weight ratio. HeavyG are not only taller, but are far denser than Humans.

  The HeavyG were created on Vosor 3. The high-gravity planet had a wealth of mineral resources, but “normal” Humans could only work there for short periods of time. An extensive genetic engineering project by the League of Planets set out to create a Human variant that could live an entire lifetime on Vosor 3.

  To achieve this, the HeavyG race has thicker, denser bones. They also have higher levels of muscle density. These are just two of the morphological differences that make breeding between the species nearly impossible, and they are only the beginning.

  It is this structural variation that led to the HeavyG species’ role in football: one of strength, balance, and high speed over short distances. Those attributes are what make the HeavyG the ideal defensive end.

  * * *

  Defensive ends (marked “DE”) want to attack from the outside in, forcing all play back inside where their teammates can help. The DE attacks blockers with his inside shoulder, trying to keep his outside shoulder and arm free. keeping any ball carrier inside of him is called “keeping contain.” A DE must work to keep blockers off his outside shoulder, lest he get “hooked” and lose contain.

  * * *

  Despite being taller and having shorter legs than their Human counterparts, HeavyG players have a lower center of gravity thanks to heavier hips. The HeavyG also have relatively longer arms — with their arms at their sides and their palms pressed flat against the outside of their legs, the tip of the middle finger on most HeavyG males will touch the ground. Long arms, short legs, and a heavily muscled upper body is what led Human reporters to dub HeavyG players the “Gorillas of the Gridiron.” A “gorilla” is an extinct Human-like animal from Earth’s history. This association is compounded by the fact that most HeavyG sprint as a quadruped, using their hands as well as their feet just as gorillas once did.

  A defensive end has to perform three main functions. To show you these functions, we’ll use Ionath Krakens standout defensive end Aleksander Michnik, number 91, as our example.

  1: Force the play back inside. Remember that the defensive end (often listed as “DE,” pronounced “dee-ee”) is usually the widest defensive player on the line of scrimmage. If a running back or quarterback approaches Michnik, it is his job as a DE to attack from the outside-in and force the ball carrier back inside toward the other defensive players, such as defensive guards, nose tackles and linebackers. If the ball carrier runs outside the defensive end, there is often no one to stop that ball carrier for many yards. Running backs and quarterbacks will try to get outside the defensive end, then turn up the sidelines for long gains. Even if a DE is rushing the quarterback, he does not want to let that quarterback scramble and escape outside.

  2: Stop the run. A defensive end like Michnik tends to line up in a three-point stance and attack forward upon the snap of the ball, but attack forward while under control. This means he moderates forward momentum so he can quickly stop, go left or right, or even back up if necessary. Remember that an offensive lineman is constantly pushing and hitting Michnik, so Michnik must be able to press forward while keeping that offensive lineman at arm’s length. If it is a run play, Michnik can separate from the blocker and either make the tackle or turn the ball carrier back inside. Michnik has to make sure the offensive lineman or other blocker doesn’t “hook” him. A hook happens when the blocker gets on Michnik’s outside shoulder and turns him back inside, allowing the ball carrier an unimpeded path to the outside.

  3: Rush the passer. If Aleksander determines it is a pass play, his job is almost always to get to the quarterback, either to make the quarterback hurry a throw, or to sack him outright. To reach the quarterback, Michnik has to go around or through the offensive lineman. To go through requires brute strength. To go around requires strength as well as the agility needed to make moves like the spin, the swim, or what Michnik is famous for, the rip. Quarterbacks throw the ball about three seconds after the snap. Therefore, the DE must have a combination of strength, balance and short-distance speed. On long-yardage situations, like a third-and-seventeen, for example, there is a high degree of probability that the offense will throw. In these situations, Michnik can rush forward in an all-out attack, because he isn’t worried about stopping a running play. This single-minded effort to get to the quarterback is colloquially called pinning your ears back, in reference to the behavior of a small, warm-blooded Earth animal known as a “dog” that is used as a Human pet, or used to attack foot-soldiers and criminals.

  Because Michnik is so adept at running on all fours, he is faster and more agile than the Ki offensive lineman that usually block him. This agility often allows Michnik to overcome a Ki’s superior strength. Long reach and low center of gravity help a HeavyG hold offensive lineman at arms’ length — this allows Michnik to stand his ground against blocks, giving him time to identify the run or the pass and react accordingly.

  For pass rushing, Michnik’s mass and huge upper body allow him to take the punishment dished out by offensive linemen. A HeavyG player’s natural tendency to sprint forward on all-fours makes their center of gravity almost as low as that of the Ki. Michnik’s short, thick legs keep driving him forward even as his massive arms and mallet-like fists come up to slap or punch at the backpedaling offensive lineman.

  So why don’t coaches use the HeavyG size and speed in offensive positions, like receiver and running back? First, the average HeavyG player is significantly slower than the average Human player.
More significantly, to run at top speed a HeavyG has to run on all-fours, which makes it impossible to carry the ball. With ball in hand, a HeavyG can only run on two legs and one arm, slowing them considerably. Finally, the HeavyG player’s big hands and slower reaction time make it hard to catch the football. Ionath Krakens head coach Hokor the Hookchest is famous for saying that HeavyG players can’t “grab their own butts with both hands.” It is somewhat unclear what this euphemism means.

  HeavyG dominate the defensive end category, but a few of the larger members of the species succeed in defensive interior positions, and even on the offensive line. Five percent of defensive tackles are HeavyG, while seven percent of starting offensive linemen come from the species.

  A few female HeavyG have also found success in the GFL. Females have relatively shorter arms and longer legs than the males. Physically, HeavyG women appear more similar to Humans, and gravitate toward the same positions occupied by Humans. HeavyG women play at fullback, tight end, quarterback, and — in the rare example of Jan “The Destroyer” Dennison — at linebacker.

  • • •

  QUENTIN WALKED TO THE LINE, pausing before he bent behind center. He cupped both hands to his facemask.

  “Hey, Mum-O! You call that last tickle a hit?”

  The Ki adolescent rose up so he could see over the massive Zer-Eh-Detak, who was lined up as the offensive right guard.

  “Barnes!” Hokor shouted from his golf cart. “Stop antagonizing Mum-O-Killowe! I’m out of players to put at right guard!”

  Quentin ignored the coach. That was easy. Ignoring the pain in his right ribs and his left thigh? Not so easy. Baiting Mum-O into playing all-out carried a powerful price.

  “Mum-O, you are a weak warrior. My Gramma back on Micovi used to hit harder than you do, and she only had one arm. If you’re not going to play hard, go home — you are an embarrassment to the franchise.”

  Mum-O reared up on his back two legs, waving his other four legs and his four arms while roaring at the top of his lungs. Terrifying. Quentin would have been scared, but he already hurt so bad it couldn’t get any worse — so what was there to be afraid of?