by Jaxon Reed
The triplets were still trying to impress Charlie, although to Jeremy and Jacob’s annoyance she seemed to favor Jason. Evidently Dee Dee had told her how to tell them apart based on freckles and scars on their faces from childhood fights.
I figured it likely that since she’d spent time dancing with Jason and knew him a little better, maybe she favored him a bit more. But Jeremy and Jacob clearly weren’t ready to concede yet.
Jeremy cleared his throat as we ascended several stories up in the elevator.
“So, do y’all know where Chang Field got its name?”
“Why don’t you tell us, Professor?”
“Shut up, Jason. So after graduating, Alexander Piedmont Chang made his fortune on Pacifica running fish farms. There’s a species of tuna on that planet considered the finest in all the Janus String. Catching them proved difficult. But he developed a way to raise them in captivity and made millions. He donated the funds to construct this stadium and they named it after him.”
“So a fish made good with the fish,” Jason said, referring to the term for a college freshman.
“Shut up, Jason.”
Charlie giggled. Jason smiled, a very proud and gloating smile. Jeremy’s frown threatened to turn into a snarl.
The elevator reached the suite level and began moving sideways to our left.
Ding!
The doors opened and we stepped into the Chang Field Presidential Suite before they could start arguing.
-+-
Aside from a few other students who worked in the Administration Building, we were the youngest people there. President Montoya made the rounds and introduced us to everybody present, about 100 people in all. Through the introductions and general chitchat during the game, I figured out that many of the most powerful and influential people on New Texas were there, and a few from Athena as well.
That’s when I realized another reason President Montoya had invited us was for political purposes. We were the stars of the evening, and everybody wanted to shake our hands.
We dined on steaks, caviar, and champagne, schmoozed with the bigwigs a while, then sat down in comfortable leather seats to watch the game from behind privacy glass.
The Aggies kicked off first. From the stands, a hundred thousand fans started shouting one long word just before the kicker started running.
“Heeeeyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
It rose in volume as he ran toward the ball.
The moment he kicked it, the crowd sang out in unison, “Gig ’em, Aggies!” then cheered as the ball sailed through the air toward the end zone.
The basics of American football haven’t changed much down through the centuries. Each team fields eleven players taking turns trying to move the ball down a hundred yard field to the opponent’s end zone for a touchdown, facing the other team’s defense which also consists of eleven players.
The offense has four opportunities to move the ball at least ten yards. These are called downs. If the offense hasn’t move the ball ten yards after the third down, they have three choices on their fourth. They can punt the ball to the other team, try and kick a field goal through the uprights at the ends of the field, or try and make it on fourth down.
Bringing the ball into the end zone yields six points for a touchdown. A field goal yields three. If the offense scores a touchdown, they can kick an extra point through the uprights, or go for two extra points by running or passing the ball into the end zone a second time from a few yards out.
That’s about it. Of course, there are hundreds of other rules that nobody really understands except the most diehard fans and the referees.
A major difference between modern American football and the way they used to play it on Old Earth is in the technology. This is an effort to eliminate the human element from penalties and other questionable calls by the refs as much as possible. All the players wear suits fitted with sensors, and the football has a sensor in it as well. When a player hits the ground, crosses out of bounds, makes a first down or gets into the end zone with the ball, the sensors indicate the play accordingly and there’s little or no interpretation needed from the refs.
Was the receiver out of bounds when he caught the ball? The sensors will tell. Did the rusher get the ball past the goal line? The sensors won’t lie.
Sensors under the field light up the line of scrimmage, where the ball starts on the play. And, sensors under the field light up the line needed to cross for a first down. Everybody watching the game can see these lines on the field, and the sensors will indicate the play and reset the lines accordingly. No more eyeballing it by the refs like they did in the old days.
The technology has been gradually added over the years to help rule out officiating mistakes, which used to cause considerable controversy back in the day. Sometimes bad calls were still made, though, especially on more ambiguous things like penalties such as holding, where a player illegally prevents the movement of another. President Montoya griped about one when he tossed the ball to Dee Dee’s dad back in their playing days, in a game against Polytech. Professor Cruz ran the ball in for a touchdown, but it was called back for offensive holding.
Montoya was still upset about it, too. I overheard him talking to the President of New Hellenic, sitting next to him in the suite.
“We were robbed!”
President Vladimirovich chuckled. “It was a quarter century ago, Tony. Let it go.”
-+-
Another issue with collegiate ball on the outer planets lay in the lack of opposing Universities to play against. Throughout the fall, different high schools played each other across New Texas, and various intercollegiate teams at New Texas A&M competed at Chang Field. But A&M is the only University on the planet. To play another University involved extensive travel, and time away from school for the visitors.
It takes two weeks, more or less a day or so, for a spaceship to reach a Janus in orbit. Then another two weeks to get to the next planet in the string. Our closest opponent was New Hellenic University on Athena. It took a month for one of the teams to travel one way for a game, then another month to go back home.
Alexandria was unusual, with four Universities, but the seminary there didn’t field a team. So, that left them with three viable teams to play against each other, and New Hellenic or A&M for an interplanetary game. But for A&M to play one of Alexandria’s teams would have required a four month round trip for them or us.
That dilemma was partly solved by having New Texas A&M meet one of the Alexandria teams on Athena the years we had an away trip. So when our team went to Athena every other year, they got to play two competing teams: New Hellenic and whoever’s turn it was from Alexandria.
But, that wasn’t really equitable. Everybody griped about playing two away games on Athena on alternating years, while only getting to play one home game the other years.
That’s the way things go sometimes. The other closest planet to New Texas is Redwood, and it’s years from having its own University, if ever.
So, the interplanetary game at Chang Field happened every other year against New Hellenic. It was a big deal, and it seemed like all of New Texas took the day off for it. “Big Money Ags,” or “BMAs” as we called them, flew in from other planets and around New Texas. Hotels and restaurants in New Bryan filled to capacity. Reporters from all over descended on the University and for a week everyone waited breathlessly for the game to start. There were parties, social mixers, dances. Pretty much all work came to a standstill for The Game. Few homework assignments or tests were assigned that week. In fact, most classes were cancelled.
This year the game almost didn’t happen due to the University Revolution. Fighting continued on Alexandria, which took the worst of Galactic Police violence. The GPs had managed to ship in reinforcements from New Hong Kong before Janus 25 closed. They’d been loaded with advanced armor and weaponry, and wreaked havoc across Alexandria. The Universities there had prevailed, but at great cost to life and property. No way Polytech, Alexandria In
stitute of Technology, or the University of Interstellar Knowledge would have been able to field a team under those conditions.
But New Texas and Athena were secure from State forces now, for the most part, except for a few terrorists still roaming about. President Montoya and his counterpart at New Hellenic, President Vladimirovich, decided to go ahead and play the annual football game in hopes of reestablishing something resembling normality.
In the end, we won. The final scoreboard read, “Aggies 21, Greeks 7.”
The yell leaders led the team on the field and fans in the stands in a final singing of the “Spirit of Aggieland,” and the “Aggie War Hymn.” Everybody clasped their neighbors’ shoulders, and started swaying back and forth singing, “Saw Varsity’s Horns Off!”
As thousands of students and fans sang and swayed back and forth in the stands, the entire structure moved, rocking back and forth. It was an eerie and awesome feeling, especially at the top of the stands in the Presidential Suite.
When we’d first heard the songs, upon our arrival on New Texas months ago, we’d no idea what they were about. Dee Dee had wondered out loud what a “Varsity” is. We found out soon enough as we learned about the traditions of New Texas A&M, which were modeled in part on the original Texas A&M back on Old Earth.
Back when countries had many Universities, and they had opportunities to easily travel and play one another in football and other sports, certain rivalries developed. Texas A&M’s big rival for many years was the University of Texas. Both mentioned the other in their fight songs. Texas A&M had a dog as a mascot, named Reveille, while UT had a steer for a mascot, named Bevo. The UT team used to be known as “Varsity” in the nineteenth century. So, “Saw Varsity’s Horns Off,” stuck around as a tradition, sung long after the UT team became known as “Longhorns.”
In borrowing from the traditions of their ancestors, New Texas A&M students kept many of the songs, yells, and sports chants from Old Earth. The “Aggie War Hymn” and “The Spirit of Aggieland” took on special meaning while fighting the State in various battles during the University Revolution, spreading from the football field to the battlefield. Now, “Varsity” meant any opponent on either field.
-+-
As we started to file out of the room, waiting for our turn in the elevator, President Montoya pulled me aside and murmured in my ear.
“There’s one more event I’d like you to participate in this week, Marcus. You and Diane. The information is in this envelope. Open it in private and don’t share anything about it with anyone else, other than her.”
He handed me a paper envelope. This was highly unusual, I thought. Paper is rare and rarely used. Almost all documents are on vid sheets, which look like paper and can be folded up like paper, but are electronic. I held a real paper envelope with a real paper card inside.
I nodded. We shook hands, and I rejoined the group to wait for the elevator.
Ding!
We filed inside with several others before the doors closed. Dee Dee and I exchanged glances. I looked down, and noticed she held a paper envelope too. As the elevator started moving, I turned mine over in my hand. It was creamy white, the paper highly textured and obviously of fine quality. In front, in large black script, a number stood out. Nothing else had been printed on the front, or anywhere else on the envelope. Just the number. It stared back at me, looking mysterious.
“12.”
Chapter Five
“Can there be anything more generic than something called the ‘Smith Building?’”
Dee Dee and I looked up at the drab, unremarkable structure. Silently, I agreed with her. It showed up on maps on the edge of campus in a rather ambiguous location. It seemed unclear whether the building actually stood on A&M property or not. Official maps of the campus included it, but they also included buildings that were obviously in New Bryan, and none gave an indication as to the Smith Building’s official status.
We walked up granite steps to the entrance. It seemed a traditional building, of the sort often found on University campuses or in capitol cities. An imposing set of steps led up to a columned entryway, recalling an official building style dating back to ancient Greek and Roman times. Four stories. Off-white stone. Or was it gray? Hard to tell in the evening light.
We stopped for a moment in front of the brown double doors. Solid hardwood, I noted. Unusual. Most building doors on campus were made of glass, or perhaps synthetic sapphire if they’re designed to be intrusion resistant.
This doorway is definitely old school, I thought.
I looked to my left and right. Above were darkened areas perfect for hiding surveillance cams. I had no doubt they were there.
-+-
After returning home from the game, we stayed up late with Charlie and the triplets, shooting the breeze, talking by the pool. When Charlie decided to return to her dorm, Jason offered to walk with her. Jeremy and Jacob suggested Charlie would be better suited accompanying one of them. Jason objected, stating in fact he would be the one walking her home. They came close to slugging it out with one another before Charlie intervened and suggested all three accompany her.
After they left, I said to Dee Dee, “Smart girl.”
“She grew up with two older brothers.”
We walked into Dee Dee’s mother-in-law suite and took out the envelopes President Montoya handed us at the game. We opened them at the same time.
Mine had an invitation card.
Dear Marcus Savitch,
You are cordially invited to attend an informational meeting with the members of 12. Should you be interested, this event will take place tomorrow night at 7 p.m. in the Smith Building.
Sincerely,
Your friends.
P.S. The ink for this invitation has been specially treated to combust upon contact with air and light. Please place it somewhere it can burn without causing damage.
About the time I finished reading it, the paper began to heat up.
Poof!
I dropped it on the floor as it lit up in flames.
Poof!
Dee Dee tossed hers down as it burst into flames, too.
I stomped on the paper to put out the fire, but it was mostly gone already. The invitations had thoroughly incinerated.
The maid bot threw open the door and rushed into the room. She pulled out a retractable hose from her side, sprayed fire retardant on the floor, then quickly cleaned the mess up. Once done, she turned around and left, heading back to her station off the kitchen.
We looked at the floor where the invitations had burned, and saw no traces of a mess. It was as if they’d never existed.
“Huh!” I said. “She’s got a built in fire extinguisher. That’s handy.”
“What did yours say?”
“An invitation to something called ‘Twelve.’ At the Smith Building tomorrow night at seven.”
Dee Dee nodded. “That’s what mine said too. What is Twelve?”
I shrugged. “Let’s go look it up.”
Twelve, it turned out, was the name of a secret society at New Texas A&M. It took us a while to figure that out, as the entries on “12” led to several wrong turns on the Internet.
At last, though, we were able to figure out that all Universities have secret societies, some more prominent than others. The entries were vague, I suppose because the societies are secret, after all. But from what I could tell reading between the lines, 12 was a major player. We found brief references to it at other Universities, leading us to think that maybe it had chapters throughout the Janus String. Or, at least on several planets.
-+-
As we stood at the entrance to the Smith Building, looking around, Dee Dee poked me in the ribs.
“Look at that.”
“What?”
“The front of the building, around the door.”
A beautiful design wove its way across the front of the building, intricately carved into the stonework. I stepped back to get a better look at it. I could make out
a few details in the waning light.
“It’s pretty.”
“No, look at that. Do you see it? Hidden in the design.”
I squinted, trying to discern what she’d noticed. Then I saw it. In the dim light, a large “12” could be seen, woven into the pattern. I hadn’t noticed it at first glance.
“Well, I guess we’re at the right place.”
I placed my hand on the palm reader by the door. We heard a lock slide back, and one of the wooden doors swung inward.
-+-
We found ourselves the guests of honor at an informal cocktail party. Light music drifted over the speakers, various people milled about sipping champagne. I noticed many of the same faces from earlier at the Chang Field Presidential Suite.
The room had been decorated in understated elegance. A plaque of some sort hung on one wall. During a lull in the conversation, I moved closer to read it. The number 12 was surrounded by a circle of text with three Latin words: Libertatis, Libertas, Democratia.
“How’s your Latin?”
I turned around to see President Montoya approaching.
“Um. ‘Liberty, Liberties, Democracy?’”
“Close. Liberty, Freedom, Democracy. That’s our motto. Twelve is committed to spreading liberty, freedom, and democracy throughout the Janus String.”
I thought about it for a moment.
“Aren’t liberty and freedom kind of the same thing?”
He smiled. “You’re right, and the words are similar in Latin. Are you familiar with John Stuart Mill?”
I shook my head.
“He was a nineteenth century philosopher. He wrote a famous book, On Liberty. In it, he helped define the difference, although others have worked on it as well down through the years. Liberties are guaranteed by the government. Freedom is the ability to act without interference from the government.
