by Vic Connor
“I don’t hang out with Erica anymore.”
“—but Hunk worries something awful,” Jeny paused to suck in a breath, the ascent starting to wind her, “and you’re on my team now, so I cannae have ya a zombie through practice.” They arrived at the top of the steps and Jeny punched the door open.
They passed a few bewildered boys in the corridor, and one waggled his eyebrows at Niko as they passed. Jeny barreled on, keeping her gaze sternly forward. When they arrived at his and Hunk’s room, she released Niko’s wrist. He was both relieved and disappointed, missing the contact. He pulled his door open and pointed inside. “Look, he’s—”
Hunk was sitting up on his made bed, swaying, dressed to the nines as always, forehead shiny with sweat. “N-Niko? Jeny?”
Niko sagged, ready for Jeny’s annoyed assault, but it didn’t come. Instead, she pushed past him through the doorway, her body brushing his, her long fingers ghosting across his bare arm. She sat down on the bed beside Hunk. “Y’alright? You look a bit peely-wally.”
Hunk blinked, rubbed his forehead. “I feel hot,” he said, pulling his suit jacket off, then tugging his bowtie apart to unbutton his shirt. There was a V of sweat darkening the front of it.
After a moment of hesitation, Jeny put her hand on Hunk’s shoulder. “Niko said you weren’t in your room a minute ago. Do you remember goan’ to bed?”
“I…remember coming in with some books from the library; I was going to read before bed. Then, I…I can’t remember. I feel terrible. My head is really hot.”
The hot headaches. Niko had been having them too, mostly at night, waking him up in a warm sweat. Until this moment, he’d thought Hunk had stayed awake just to watch him. Now, he realized, perhaps the headaches had been keeping him awake too.
Sitting close to him on the bed, Jeny rubbed Hunk’s back. Niko felt a twinge of annoyance. Jeny was jutting out her chin, blowing out breaths. Anger? No, it was frustration, a familiar helplessness. He guessed she hated seeing her friend hurt, but more than that, she hated there was nothing she could do about it. It was just as Hunk said, she was protective and kinder than she let on. Seeing her and Hunk together, Niko wished it didn’t make him like her more.
Jeny looked up at him, frowning. Having been caught scrutinizing her, Niko sucked his teeth and looked at the ground. “Uh, I’ll… I’ll go get him some water.” He took Jeny’s glass from her, then bolted out of the room before she could spout any derision.
I hate this, he thought, one hand stuffed in his pocket as he marched back toward the stairwell. He yearned for Erica’s purring flirtation, her obvious intentions and acceptance of his affection. The way she agreed with him on everything. It had been so easy, so comforting. She had been like a sexy extension of himself.
And it hadn’t been real, he reminded himself. He wanted to be pissed at her too, for leading him on, for toying with his feelings. He hated her, and he hated Jeny for her constant criticism, and Cal for being so inconsiderate and patronizing. And now, here he was, heading back downstairs to do a favor for the guy who…
“Out after hours? Heh. Better not let the teachers catch you. Or your roommate, for that matter.”
Niko looked up. It was Tim, in his pajamas, carrying a goblet of some electric-blue liquid.
“I’m just getting a drink of water,” Niko grunted.
“It looks like you already have one on your shirt.” Tim nodded at the wet blotch on Niko’s tank-top.
“Whatever, man,” he groused, starting to walk away.
“You all right, dude?”
“What do you care?” Niko retorted, and hated how wounded it sounded. He should have brushed it off, laughed it off, stayed alone here from the start, feeling nothing because then nothing can hurt.
“Look.” Tim put up his free hand. “I know, you’re pissed because I didn’t pick you for Black Fire. To be honest, after the last match, I’m kinda pissed at myself.”
This made Niko pause. “You are?”
“Yeah. Cal outplayed me like she always does. I should see it coming by now but I don’t.”
Niko studied Tim for a moment, wondering how it felt to be so successful inside Territoria and think this was the real world. The only world. Staying in character, he said carefully, “But you got Alonso. He’s, y’know, like…crazy strong.”
“I’m starting to think he’s just plain crazy.” Tim scoffed. “He runs off on his own, ignores my calls, and Jacob told me that he knocked you to zero and Dr. Goseyun had to stabilize you. That’s not just unnecessary, it’s dangerous. Cal must have seen it all before team selections. I hate how smart she can be sometimes.” He spoke with energy and conviction, like this was the only thing that mattered right now.
“I know, right?” Niko considered dropping in a word or two about the real world but couldn’t come up with anything which wouldn’t sound awkward. Instead, he simply said, “She acts so superior. Always talks to me like I’m a five-year-old.”
Tim shrugged. “That’s what you can do when you’re the best, I guess.”
“That’s an excuse to be a jerk?” Niko was still role-playing, but badmouthing his teammate behind her back felt wrong. He already regretted engaging in this conversation.
“I wouldn’t say she’s a jerk.” Tim laughed. “She’s good and she knows it. Yeah, it makes me feel small, but sometime last year, I started to realize that’s on me, not her.”
“On you?”
“Yeah. She’s not like Erica, who intentionally does stuff to mess with people. She’s just herself. She’s smart and she works hard and gets results. I thought I was mad at her at first, then realized I was just mad at myself. It was easier to blame her for that than deal with my own shortcomings.”
Niko gave Tim a tiny smile, liking him. “But you’re the guy who always says you only want the best.”
“Competing with Cal taught me there’s more to being the best than just assuming I’m better than everyone else.” Tim sighed. “Which is why I’m chugging caffeine at 11 p.m., trying to plan around every way Alonso can go rogue.” He lifted his cup and opened the door to his room. “Night, man.”
Just before Tim closed his door behind him, Niko said, “Hey, Tim?”
Tim paused, looking back, eyebrows raised.
“Uh, so… You know, uh…the Phaeton game that’s in a couple weeks?”
“Yeah, Niko, everyone does.”
“Uh, well. I think Jeny, Hunk, and I are going.”
“To the showing in the amphitheater? Yeah, my team’s going too. Erica is a big Enders fan.”
Niko wasn’t sure what that meant but pressed on. “Maybe…we could all go?”
Tim squinted his eyes a bit. “Erica and Jeny?”
“We might need to sit between them.” Niko smiled.
Tim laughed. “Jeny’s a Stingers fan so, yeah, we sure will. But it sounds fun. I’ll run it by Jacob and Erica. Anyway. Gotta get back to it.” Tim nodded, then went inside his room.
Niko’s thoughts and feelings warred as he snuck down to the cafeteria, filled a cup of water, then walked back upstairs. Hunk looked a lot better. He and Jeny were laughing about something. Niko felt anger and annoyance well up, then reminded himself that Hunk had been in trouble moments ago, and he should be relieved. He handed over the water, and Hunk thanked him graciously.
“I can, uh…y’know, I can go for a walk if you want, I don’t know…” Niko didn’t look at them when he spoke.
“Nah, that’s all right,” Jeny said, standing up a little too fast. “I should get back to bed anyway. I’m glad you’re all right, Hunk.” As Jeny walked past Niko, her fingers viced around his wrist and she dragged him forcibly out of the room, closing to door behind them.
“All right, look,” she said, turning to face him, “I’m…no good at this sort of thing, and I sure as Shetland don’t like you. You’re still a hard-headed, mean-mouthed, sulky wee—”
“I get it,” Niko said, rolling his bare shoulders, trying not to be pissed at
her for the insults, while also trying not to admit at least some of them might be true.
Jeny shifted. “But…tonight, you worried about him. You gave a damn about someone else, which I surely dinnae think ya capable of.” She seemed only able to look him in the eye when she was insulting him. “And so, I suppose it might be possible that…even though you disobeyed Cal’s orders and did something absolutely doaty… I guess I can see how yer heart may ha’e been in the right place.” She scuffed her combat boot on the tile. “So…” She mumbled something Niko barely heard, and barely believed.
“What was that?” He turned his ear to her, smiling thinly.
Jeny glared. “If you’re goan’ to be a roaster about it, I take it back!”
“I just want to record it this time. Hearing Jenya Goswami apologize has to be rarer than, like, diamonds or something.”
“Shut it, ya great knob!” Jeny punched his arm.
“Ow.” Niko laughed, rubbing the spot where he’d probably have a bruise tomorrow. It felt…warm, friendly, like he’d gained ground he never expected to. So maybe he said the next part to remind himself there was no chance. A defense-mechanism. “Nah, Hunk is a good guy. I can see why you have, like, a massive crush on him.”
Jeny’s face went a satisfying shade of purple. “I don’t—”
Niko waved over his shoulder as he went back into his room. “G’night.” He shut the door on her.
He felt…not great. He was still angry and bitter, still thinking things like, why would she like that wimp and she’s so obnoxious, there’s nothing to like anyway, or even she made me like her just to hurt me.
But, when he looked at Hunk, still sweaty and pale from his ordeal but managing a small smile, Niko knew he just wanted someone to blame for his own misery.
18
Kings 14:23
“This is supposed to be fun for me, Niko,” Jeny barked. “Fun. Where on the worlds do ya get off, inviting that wee band of wallopers?”
Niko, Jeny, and Hunk walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the path to the amphitheater, crushed together in the stream of hundreds of students, a mass of yellow and purple. Two weeks had passed without incident or sign of another memory forthcoming. Niko was getting anxious.
“It will still be fun,” Hunk said, wearing a nervous grin.
“Not wit’ Erica around, it won’t. She’s gonna be making smart remarks the whole game.” Jeny huffed through the knit of her black-and-yellow striped scarf.
“Well, I mean…you do look a little fanatic,” Niko teased, nodding at the team-jersey she wore under her leather jacket, and the stripes of facepaint under her eyes.
“You’re the one who’s weird,” Jeny snarled, slapping him with the back of her yellow glove (the other one was black). “You don’t even have a team you root for.”
“I’ll root for your team. What are they called again?”
“The Stingers!” Jeny was indignant. “Do you even know the players? Wayan and Made? Guk-Doo Yi? Precious Love?”
Niko shrugged.
“You don’t know Precious Love?” That was Hunk, staring at Niko with round eyes.
“This is a person?”
Jeny guffawed in disbelief. “Sweet Love? Candy Raindrops? I Like-Like You?”
“Are you confessing?” Niko’s grin widened.
Jeny hit him in the arm. “They’re songs, ya greasy mugwort! Whae rock have you been living under?”
“The third rock from the sun,” Niko muttered.
“Precious Love is the most famous player in the league,” Hunk said. “She’s the healer for the Stingers and a pop star, and she’s only sixteen. That’s her, up there!”
Hunk pointed up to huge banners hung down in front of the amphitheater, awash in Stingers’ yellow and Enders’ purple. The banner had a yellow frame and featured a black girl with puff-pigtails tied up in ribbons. She was wearing a frilly, bubblegum-pink dress, and wielded a wand topped with a faerie-winged heart. She clutched it like a teddy-bear. With her big features and cutesy pose, she looked closer to twelve than sixteen.
“That girl is one of the best players on Phaeton?”
“Yes, she’s incredible,” Hunk said. “I’ve been watching replays and her reaction time is impeccable. She’s my favorite pro player.”
Jeny’s face soured. Tim, Jacob, and Erica were weaving their way through the throng, heading toward them. Erica wore an eggplant-purple hat with a green pom and a hoodie with the Enders logo emblazoned on the front. She looked Jeny up and down, then showed her perfect teeth.
“Jeny,” Erica said tightly. “All done up in black and yellow, I see.”
Jeny splayed out both her palms at each shoulder and flapped them like wings. “Buzz buzz.” She scoffed at Erica’s sweatshirt. “And of course you’re an Enders fan.”
“Yeah, well, I like teams that don’t cheat, so…”
Hunk put a hand on Jeny’s shoulder to keep her from launching at Erica. Niko and Tim shared a grimace.
“Let’s get seats before they fill up,” Jacob said. That, at least, Jeny and Erica could agree on.
While they walked down the wide, crowded path toward the amphitheater, Niko peered up at the other banners. There was a big guy with an even bigger smile, sporting a white beard and blue skin, covered in tattoos, with the name “Wayan” under his picture. Another displayed a girl with a red mohawk carrying a surfboard, named “Gabriella.” The last Mythic, Niko actually recognized—the ferocious Rangda, with her bug-eyes and painted face, just as she had been in the Territoria lobby. Her name wasn’t listed as Rangda, though—the banner named her “Made.”
Jacob led the pack, Niko watching the back of his white hoodie to keep track of him in the sea of purple and yellow. Jacob found them a line of clear seats toward the back third of the amphitheater. They all slid in across the long, stone bench; it felt like sitting on bleachers for a high-school football game. Instead of a field, there was a massive, holographic screen. A panel of four people in fantasy-business-casual clothes and headsets talked back and forth about the strengths and weaknesses of the Stingers and the Enders.
Shuffled on the bench, Niko ended up squished between Hunk and Jeny. Her hip pressed to his, their knees bumping. She didn’t seem to know what to do with her arms. Her cheeks had gone a deep, pleasant red in the cold of day. Niko focused very deliberately on the announcers on the screen.
One of the announcers said, “All right, now we’re going to hand it over to Melissa for team introductions.”
The camera cut to a tall woman in a tight dress, holding a microphone. She looked directly into the camera. Music—some amalgam of epic strings and poppy electronica—crested from the speakers. “Cool, let’s get things started,” she said in a low, growling voice that purred from her red-painted lips. “Cygni and Phaetonites, please give a warm welcome to last year’s runners-up and the number three team on Phaeton—” and here, the announcer drew out the name like a ringmaster, “theeeeee Stingers!”
The camera snapped to a backlit hallway filled with smoke. A huge man burst out, blue-skinned, with a braided white beard, long hair pulled into a high, bushy ponytail. White tattoos covered his vast, dark-blue body. He shouldered an ice-rimed shield and spun a massive flail around like a pocket watch, grinning at the audience with black teeth. “Please welcome the Stinger’s Tank,” came the announcer’s voice over the video, “the frost giant, Wayan!”
Beside him, Jeny went wild, cupping her hands around her mouth and whooping with ear-splitting enthusiasm.
On the screen, Wayan marched forward, mugging for the audience before walking off-screen.
A woman followed behind him, not quite matching his weight. Her clever, knowing features were smeared with white, black, and red facepaint. White, shaggy hair cascaded to her ankles from under an ornate, golden crown. The red lace of her tunic managed (barely) to cover all critical areas of her curvaceous body. She was dangerously beautiful—until the camera focused in on her. When it did, she reached to her fo
rehead and pulled down, as if to bring a mask over her face. Maybe she had, for her features transformed into a hideous visage of long tusks, bulging eyes, and a forked tongue that lolled down to her soft stomach. It couldn’t have been a mask, though, because these features moved as if it was her real face, eyes darting about and tongue curving up like a living snake. She looked both terrifying and familiar. She was the Mythic Rangda, the exact creature Niko had first seen in the Territoria lobby.
“And here’s Wayan’s sister and the Stinger’s team captain,” Melissa said. “Made!”
A moment later, Made moved her hand up, as though pushing the mask to her forehead. The gruesome face disappeared, and she returned to her previous, catlike visage.
After Made followed a muscular girl with greyish skin so poreless and patterned it put Niko in mind of a shark. She had board shorts that went down to her knees, and carried what looked like a wooden surfboard on her shoulders. She ran her free hand through her red mohawk.
“The Stinger’s brawler-DPS, Gabriella Ramos!”
Gabriella spun her board around her hips in a flourish, thumped it on the ground, then hefted it under an arm before jogging out of frame.
There was a pause, then a girl’s bubblegum voice piped over the music. Hunk clapped his hands and tugged at Niko’s jacket, pointing at the screen. After a few measures, Niko realized that Hunk and Jeny were singing along. The crowd was making the flapping “buzz buzz” hand-motion and began chorusing the lyrics as well.
We go down, we’re gonna bounce back
‘Cause we put our love in the vanguard
It’s our crown, and you’re cardiac
Glitter from above, we go hard, hard, heart attack!
We go hard, hard, heart attack!
We go hard, hard, heart attack!
We go hard, hard, heart attack!
“And now, the Stinger’s healer, an all-star in every sense of the word. You know her, you…” Here, Melissa winked at the camera. “Well, I think you get the idea. Cygni and Phaetonites, Precious Love!”
