by Andy Kasch
“You’re feeling better?” Belle-ub asked Alan as soon as they joined his group. He seemed genuinely concerned. Jumper liked that.
“Walking was good,” Alan answered. Belle-ub frowned.
“Why isn’t he recovering yet?” Jumper asked Belle-ub.
Belle-ub touched Alan’s head with his long, slivery fingers and inspected the top of his skull. “I don’t know,” he said at length. “He seems to be fighting off the attack. He’s up and moving, at least.”
“That’s not good enough,” Jumper said. “He’s like, half-here. Acting goofy. I don’t think your Sheen friends know how to heal him. I want Uncle Brandon to look at him.”
“He can do that right now,” Belle-ub said, and motioned to the Torian ships which had just landed.
Jumper looked and saw that the saucers had opened and cruisers were being unloaded down their ramps. Natives were getting out of all the landing craft, many of them armed. It was a significant-sized assemblage. Within a few minutes, they were all on board the cruisers—twelve vehicles full, the large off-trail models. Soldiers with guns were popping out of their tops and sides. The less-than-friendly-looking caravan then drove directly to Belle-ub’s welcoming committee.
The visitors didn’t look like they were expecting a cordial welcome when they came to a stop. The High General was in the lead vehicle and stood up in his seat. Nobody was smiling. Wait, there was someone smiling—a human, in the High General’s cruiser, who just stood up in the back seat. It was Uncle Brandon.
The soldiers in the eleven other cruisers all stood up in their seats and loomed imposingly over the top frame bars, rifles in their hands. The High General, Brandon, and six soldiers came out of the High General’s vehicle and stood in front of it for a minute before marching the short distance to Belle-ub’s party. Belle-ub took one step in out in front as they arrived. So did the High General and Brandon, to meet face to face with him. Brandon glanced at Jumper, smiled again, and nodded. Jumper pressed closer to Belle-ub’s guard so he could hear what would be said.
Olut6 didn’t bother with a formal greeting.
“You heard about attack?” he blurted.
“Yes, General—”
“Right after you left the station, almost simultaneously.”
“We do have media and communications here, General. We know of the attack.”
“You didn’t respond to our call for help.”
“I responded, General—”
“After the battle was over, you responded!”
“That’s when I received the message. General, what help could I have possibly been to Banor or Cardinal-4?”
“All your friends here! They could have helped us, instead of withdrawing to play an extat game!”
“You would have me ask my guests to get involved in a war, when they have not been provoked? Such irony! The very reason for their visit is the promotion of peace. I cannot betray that purpose. If Banor seeks their assistance, Banor is free to ask it of them directly. Amulen has other business at the moment, business which happens to focus on principles that are diametrically opposed to forming the alliances of war.”
“Belle-ub, half your extat guests showed up here fighting wars between themselves. Then, wham! Banor and the space station were attacked. Don’t even think of telling me you believe that to be a coincidence. And we did appeal to the Latians for help—as we considered them reasonable beings—but they declined, and did they leave? No, they only drew near to Amulen. You’ve got half the galaxy gathered here, including races who don’t get along. I don’t fully understand the political ramifications of what you’re trying to organize, but I sure as extat recognize the glaring threat you’ve brought upon us. Not only to Amulen, but also to Banor and Cardinal-4. We’re seriously hurt on Banor. Lots of death and destruction. I can’t tolerate the risk you’re posing. Your little game has resulted in a war, and the greatest catastrophe in modern Torian history. So this tournament of yours is hereby terminated, by order of the Torian military.”
Belle-ub didn’t answer. He stood there in silence. Then, as if by design, the silence was overcome by the sound of a convoy of cruisers approaching from the west. Dozens of hovercraft were quickly getting closer. The whirring noise became deafening as they arrived. Dust clouds blew across the plain and became so thick Jumper could no longer see the Torian soldiers in the cruisers behind Brandon and Olut6.
When the dust cleared, Jumper saw that Olut6’s soldiers had gotten out of their vehicles and formed a line opposing the convoy. But they were pitifully outnumbered. Olut6’s hundred armed soldiers from twelve cruisers were staring down a thousand armed natives in a hundred cruisers. There were militia members from the Northern, Central, and Midlands regions in Belle-ub’s convoy, plus some Jumper didn’t recognize. It appeared Belle-ub had successfully organized a Continent-3 military force.
Belle-ub finally spoke. “Your request that we cancel the tournament is respectfully declined. In two days’ time, everyone will go home and you’ll see your desire fulfilled. Until then, I suggest you attend to Banorian matters, where you are presently needed most. We will contact you when we are ready to discuss domestic affairs.”
Olut6 was apparently unimpressed. He remained motionless and said, “It wasn’t a request, Belle-ub.”
The six soldiers next to Olut6 all stepped back and pushed their rifle butts into their armpits, although they kept them pointed down.
Belle-ub also refused to be intimidated. He continued to speak calmly.
“Your military authority is not recognized here, General. We claim sovereignty and can take care of ourselves. Let’s be clear. The tournament will play as scheduled. You cannot stop it. If you try, you will be resisted will all the force we can muster, only some of which you see here before you. You will then have a Torian civil war on your hands, in addition to your current interstellar problems. To say nothing of provoking further interstellar hostilities, being as some of the races here are fervently anticipating the tournament, and will not look kindly upon an attempt to prevent it by military force. They are prepared to defend it along with us.”
Silence again. This time, total silence that felt extended for much longer than it probably actually was. Jumper’s heart raced. Olut6’s stubbornness was well-known in Tora. He wasn’t the type to back down, even when the odds were heavily persuasive. If Belle-ub didn’t offer him a gracious out, the next thing Jumper witnessed might well be a firefight signifying the beginning of a war between Amulen and Banor. Not to mention who-knows-how-many additional alien wars with races that would take Belle-ub’s side.
Olut6 was outnumbered ten to one at the moment, but he could easily reverse those odds with a single order bringing the Banorian ground forces in. To say nothing of the air power he commanded, though Belle-ub did supposedly possess the means to thwart that.
Brandon spoke to break the silence.
“Belle-ub, why don’t you show the General what he wants see?”
Belle-ub cocked his head.
“Military intelligence,” Brandon said. “He can’t run the Banorian military when he’s lacking important intelligence. The security of Tora is the issue here. You must understand that. For you to hold an interstellar conference now, considering the circumstances, the Banorian military must be shown the situation is secure, and fully understand the technology being employed.”
Belle-ub looked at Olut6 and said, “General?”
Olut6 sighed with resignation. His sigh was as a trumpet that sounded the truce of the first Torian civil war in more than 2,200 years.
Belle-ub glanced at Brandon and smiled, then turned back to Olut6. “Very well, then. Come with me.”
*
“From swallowing swamp water?” Brandon asked as they walked.
“I think,” Jumper said. “He was spitting it up, and has been this way since.”
Brandon felt Alan’s forehead and said, “He feels feverish. Hot, that is. Haven’t felt a hot forehead since my Earth days.”
“I’m fine,” Alan said. “Just need to …walk. You keep talking, we keep walking.”
“See?” Jumper said. “He’s gone silly—only he’s serious about it.”
Brandon turned to Belle-ub. “What form of medical attention did you administer to him?”
“We did what we could,” Belle-ub said. “The human body is not tremendously different than that of the Sheen. When one of us incurs an injury, we apply an ointment derived from an herb mixture which aids in healing by destroying foreign microorganisms.”
“They rubbed a paste on my neck,” Alan said.
Brandon looked concerned, but they came to the arena entrance so everyone followed Belle-ub inside. Three soldiers accompanied Olut6. He had conceded to leave the remainder behind at the standoff and ordered no offensive actions.
They ascended a wide walkway on the inside of the arena, gradually winding their way upward. Jumper occasionally caught glimpses of daylight through openings that led to the spectator seats. Finally, when they were near the top level, Belle-ub led them through an archway and they came out onto an open clearing. From there they could see everything.
It was a patio of sorts; a terrace that overlooked the stadium. There were no seats on the terrace. It was a place for standing and observing only. The terrace was surrounded by a waste-high plaster wall with a metal railing. There were seats nearly everywhere else in the stadium one looked. At the rear of the patio, behind them, a modern sliding-glass doorway led to a large interior room. Jumper suspected that to be Belle-ub’s office.
In the middle of the arena, two giant video screens were positioned on the upper interior walls, one on each side. Immediately to the left of Belle-ub’s terrace was the unfinished portion of the stadium, a roped off area where building materials were stacked up below exposed unfinished beams. But that was the only area still under construction. From the inside, the arena looked much closer to being complete than from the outside.
There was plenty of standing room on the terrace and they all meandered around on it, taking in the grandiose view. The stadium was oval-shaped. Jumper could see spectators sitting in the first few rows far below.
Amulen grass covered the arena floor, transforming it to a purple field. In the middle of the field was a large red tent. Closer inspection revealed it to actually be a veil, a giant cloth concealing an irregular shape. It was being held in place from above by a small construction crane.
On both sides of the tent, covering the rest of the field, were tables and chairs with polwar games set up. There were seven on each side of the tent. They were large; the biggest game frames Jumper had ever seen. The two closest to the tent—on each side of it—were even larger, twice the size of the others.
The six “regular size” tables on this side of the tent were all occupied with games in progress, some with aliens and some with Torian natives. Those must be the playoff games taking place today. Armed Torian guards patrolled the perimeter of the field, but their rifles were strapped nonchalantly on their backs and they strolled about casually. Some were even chatting with spectators in the front row.
Jumper looked closer at the video screens. They were divided into six sections, each focusing on a different game in progress. One of them changed camera angles, and Jumper then noticed the Sinlo Mountain champion was one of the active players. So he was still in it, and must be doing okay. Jumper watched the screen as he made a move. The camera then zoomed on the game pieces in the field. The Sinlo player’s position looked strong and his opponent appeared to go into deep-think mode. Jumper was suddenly extremely grateful he hadn’t been forced to play him in a death match at a high elevation.
Olut6 spoke. “This is all very impressive, Belle-ub, but I believe we have business to discuss.”
“Certainly, General. Please follow me.”
Belle-ub’s armed escorts remained out on the terrace, but everyone else followed him inside—including his two Sheen companions. Belle-ub always seemed to have exactly two Sheen companions, one on each side of him. These were not the same two who were always with him at the village.
Inside the sliding glass doors was an official-looking conference room. A circular glass table with twelve seats filled most of the space. At the far end, however, there were three steps leading to a small platform that conspicuously displayed a large plush chair overlooking the room. Jumper thought it resembled drawings of a king’s throne from ancient times. At the bottom of the steps, two smaller throne-type chairs were positioned on the two sides of the large one at the top. That was …odd.
They passed through the conference room without stopping, into an open corridor with a lift on the far side of it. Two armed guards stood in front of the lift doors. At Belle-ub’s signal, they stepped aside.
“This lift leads to our defense bunker, General. I think you’ll be amazed at how simple our system is.”
“All right,” Olut6 said. He turned to Brandon. “Have them wait here.” He pointed at Jumper, Hol4, Alan, and Kayla.
“Going back outside,” Alan said. He unceremoniously exited through the conference room. Kayla immediately followed him.
“Watch over him,” Belle-ub said to his two companions. They followed Alan and Kayla back through the door.
The lift arrived. Belle-ub, Brandon, Olut6, and the three soldiers stepped into it and turned back around to face the door.
“I won’t be long,” Brandon said to Jumper. The lift doors closed as Jumper and Hol4 watched. The two guards retook their position in front of the doors.
“Come on,” Jumper said to Hol4. They went back through the conference room out to the terrace. Alan was looking about the same, not any better but at least not any worse. The two Sheen were standing nearby keeping an eye on him, as Belle-ub requested. Kayla was leaning over the rail watching the polwar players on the field.
“How can there be so much obsession over a dumb game,” she said. “So much, in fact, that a large arena can be built for it?” She shook her head as the breeze blew strands of her dark hair across her face. She turned to Jumper. “You probably love it, don’t you?”
“I don’t love it,” Hol4 interjected. “I’ve never played it myself, but I see what happens to those who do.”
Jumper laughed. “Then you don’t want to ever try it. Your race seems to have a natural, uncontrollable compulsion towards it. We humans aren’t affected as much.”
Kayla made that unattractive snorting sound again and said, “Ha! That’s a laugh. It’s all the guys want to do around the colony. Not in the open, mind you, unless you and Alan are out camping. They sneak around and do it behind closed doors. I think they won’t play in front of you because they’re sick of you beating them all the time. Even I have to play it sometimes, when there’s nothing else to do at night, and none of the guys want to talk or do anything else. Stupid game.”
“There’s a strategy to it,” Jumper said. “It’s not a mindless pursuit. Polwar is a game of complete information. You can see everything your opponent does, and vice-versa. But that doesn’t mean you both see the same thing. Blocking patterns and sneaking up on your opponent with a connection he doesn’t see coming. There’s real satisfaction in that, and it isn’t all that easy to do—do well, anyway.”
“It’s a stupid game,” Kayla said, “and stupid that it’s so addicting. I know about the patterns. It’s no big deal. The reverence everyone has for someone who gets on a lucky streak is misplaced. I think there’s way more random chance than people are admitting to. I’m sure I could beat you at it, with only a little luck.”
“No. You couldn’t.”
Kayla smiled. “I bet I could. Ooooohhh, I’d love to, too. Then I could prove to everyone it’s all luck and maybe they’d stop playing it.”
“You want to try?” Jumper said. “Look, there are two open tables on this side of the field now. I’d be happy to teach you a lesson in respect.”
“All right, let’s go,” Kayla said.
Jumper turned to
one of the Sheen. “Belle-ub said the Earthlings could have their own playoff. We wish to hold that right now. One game to determine the Earth champion. Can you take us to the field?”
The Sheen looked back and forth between Jumper and Kayla several times.
“Fine,” he said. “Follow me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Belle-ub’s bunker was much more military-looking than Brandon expected. As soon as the lift doors opened, he was reminded of a typical Hollywood movie depiction of the American nuclear missile command center. It was dark at first, with soft overhead lighting—but there were also lights from computers, work stations, and video screens on the walls, some of which showed schematics. In reality, Belle-ub’s defense bunker wasn’t all that different from the REEP bunker on Cardinal-4.
“This place looks familiar,” Olut6 said.
“It should, General.” Belle-ub led them to the center of the floor, where they were surrounded by both natives and red Sheen manning the work stations. “You’ve been here before.”
Olut6 cocked his head and then looked around carefully.
“The abandoned ground-REEP defense system.”
“Correct, General. The installation was mostly complete before the project was canceled. It was not difficult to alter the existing infrastructure for our purposes.”
“You built your stadium right smack on top of the old bunker,” Olut6 said. He sounded slightly impressed.
Belle-ub smiled. “Yes. I think it’s best to defend the continent directly from its biggest target. Gives the defenders …proper motivation.”
“There are REEP defense units installed on Torian soil?” Brandon asked. “I’ve wondered about that at times—why there wouldn’t be, I mean.”
“There are several good reasons,” Olut6 said. “Most significant is the limited effective range. Attackers would have to be well inside the atmosphere before becoming vulnerable. Given the range and accuracy of modern space-to-surface weapons, it was thought the likelihood of that to be too remote to continue funding the project. The whole thing ended up being Giant waste of time and money. I opposed it from the beginning, primarily because of the danger to Torian pilots who happen to be in the atmosphere when it fires. But also because of the repercussions to the civilian population, most of whom would not have sufficient warning to don ear protection from the sonic booms. If I remember right, the range of conductors installed was massive—covering most of the central valley.”