Ultraball #2
Page 7
Strike looked at the turf, trying to hide his dread from Rock. The scoreboard, talking to him through secret coded messages? Rock was hallucinating. It could be the first signs of dust poisoning, the scariest disease on the entire moon. He might be forced to take Rock to Salaam Hospital, no matter if they could pay or not. “What kind of code?” Strike asked, afraid to hear the answer. “And who’s it from?”
Rock bent down, crouching to make sure no one could see. He motioned to Strike, pulling him down low, and held his notebook up.
“What am I looking at?” Strike asked. “There’s just a bunch of dots and dashes.”
“It’s an ancient Earth system of cryptography, called Morse code. It died out a long time ago, but she would have known that I’d recognize it. Look.” He pointed to his jottings at the bottom of the page.
Strike sucked in a breath. His eyes darted to Rock as his friend circled the first four decoded letters:
B
O
O
M
RESULTS AND STANDINGS, AFTER WEEK 3
RESULTS, WEEK 3
Miners
84
Explorers
63
Neutrons
98
Flamethrowers
84
Molemen
70
Shock
56
Beatdown
98
Venom
42
STANDINGS, WEEK 3
Wins
Losses
Total Points
Molemen
3
0
238
Neutrons
2
1
280
Beatdown
2
1
245
Miners
2
1
238
Flamethrowers
1
2
224
Explorers
1
2
196
Shock
1
2
175
Venom
0
3
112
8
Rock’s Surprise
A FEW DAYS later, Rock led Strike toward Taiko Arena, four bodyguards in blue trailing behind them. Even though the attack on Strike had been headline news for every media outlet from the Lunar Times to the SmashMouth Radio Blitz to the Touchdown Zone, no one had identified the suspect. It could have been a deranged fan, as LunarSports commentators kept saying.
But the most likely explanation was that Zuna was behind the attack. This hadn’t made any sense to Strike until it dawned on him that Zuna hadn’t been trying to kill him. The attacker had likely been ordered to hurt one of the Miners, to send a message to Strike about what would happen if he didn’t give up Boom. It also felt like no coincidence that the person who had gotten stabbed was TNT—the Miners’ star player.
Strike glanced over his shoulder, wondering again if four bodyguards were enough. And wondering once again if he should have accepted Zuna’s deal.
“I can’t wait to see your face,” Rock said. “You’re going to be so surprised.”
“I don’t like surprises,” Strike said. “Especially from you. Since when do you surprise me?”
“Ever since Boom’s coded message gave us a list of surprise strategies that would have let us run up the score against the Explorers,” Rock said. “And a whole lot more, for the rest of the season.”
“If it was actually Boom.”
“I’m positive it was.”
Strike shook his head. “Getting messages to you through hidden codes in the border of a scoreboard is insane.”
“How else could she do it?” Rock asked. “Not through the phone she gave me—Zuna would trace the call and pinpoint her location. Sending a note to me through a Dark Sider would put that person in way too much danger, and might lead Zuna right back to her. Plus, a coded message is exactly Boom’s style. I bet she got the idea from my notebook.”
Strike grabbed Rock’s shoulders. “I know how badly you want to believe that Boom is out there trying to help us. And it sure seemed like brilliant game strategy. But would she really take the huge risk of contacting us?”
“Yes, because she wants to make up for the past.” Rock bit his lip. “Just like TNT. And Jasmine. Er, Nitro.”
Strike’s thoughts turned to TNT, stable and recovering but ordered by the doctors not to play for at least two weeks. Nitro had been great as a sub, but Strike needed his superstar back in action.
“Come on,” Rock said. “I can’t wait for you to see my idea. Well, it’s Boom’s idea, actually. It’s going to transform our team.” Rock led Strike toward Taiko Arena, quickening their pace as they approached the airlock door.
It was both cool and nerve-racking to see his friend so amped up. The last time Rock had been this animated was after last year’s Ultrabowl, when he had figured out the intricate plan Boom had pulled off. “Should I be scared or excited?” he asked, holding a hand over the entrance button.
“Excited,” Rock said. “Very excited.”
Strike motioned to the bodyguards to stay outside during practice. Taiko Arena was the Miners’ high-security bastion, the one place on the moon where a Miner could not be touched. Strike pushed the button and the doors slid back with a low rumble. The massive cavern of Taiko Arena slowly came into view. Inside, five people stood at the fifty-meter line. The first three were Pickaxe, Nugget, and Nitro, all facing each other, doing pre-scrimmage stretches in their blue jumpsuits. The fourth was TNT, sitting on the turf, looking glum, his arm tucked in over where he had been stabbed. The fifth was—
“Fusion?” Strike asked in shock. He jabbed a finger at the boy wearing what must have been a borrowed blue jumpsuit.
“Uh,” Fusion said, raising a tentative hand. “Hi?”
“How’d he get in here?” Strike said. “We gotta get him out of here before he steals our secrets.” He stopped, studying Rock’s look of confusion. “Wait a second. This is the surprise? This is why I hate surprises.”
“I don’t understand,” Rock said, his face crinkled. “Why are you so upset? We have the chance to get one of the greatest Ultraball stars of all time on our team. Fusion could be the game changer we need.”
Strike was still trying to process what he was seeing: a longtime rival who had crushed Strike’s dream to win an Ultrabowl. Four times in a row.
And then it hit him.
Rock wants to put Fusion in as our new quarterback.
He trembled. Rock knows that my Ultrabot suit is tightening down on me. Zuna knew. Maybe everyone knew.
“Strike?” Rock said. “Are you okay?”
“How could you?” Strike’s words cracked. Emotions came crumbling forth in waves of sadness, despair, and anger. “After all we’ve been through, this is the way my Ultraball career is going to end?”
Rock’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Replacing you would be crazy. I want to address the weakest link on the team.” Taking a deep breath, he sighed long and hard before shaking his head. “For the good of the team, we should replace—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Strike snapped. “I’m not going to replace you. Especially not with Fusion.” He jabbed a finger at the little boy, who looked like he wanted to bury his head in the turf. “Fusion is a Neutron. He’s the enemy.”
“Aha,” Rock said. “So you admit it.”
“Uh. What did I admit?”
“That I’m the weak link of the team.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you did. The obvious assumption would have been that I was suggesting you replace Nitro.” Rock turned to Nitro, who was also staring at the turf as if she wanted to stick her head in and bury it. “That’s not saying anything about you, Nitro. You played great against the Explorers.” Rock beamed at Strike, delighted with himself. “I tri
cked you.”
“I hate tricks even more than surprises,” Strike muttered. “Look. I only said that because you made it seem like that’s what you were going to say. I don’t think you’re the weak link. You’re solid. Dependable. We’d fall apart without you.” Strike shot a stink-eyed glare at Fusion.
The skinny kid quietly shoved his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit.
“As the general manager of the Miners, it’s your duty to field the best team available to maximize chances of winning,” Rock said. “Imagine what it’d be like to have a dual threat at quarterback, just like last year with Boom. Fusion isn’t as good as Boom at rocketback, but he’s an incredible all-around player. We could move him all over the place. We could even play him at crackback. It would befuddle defenses.”
As much as Strike hated to admit it, Rock had a point. Last year, Boom’s arm had given the Miners a deadly weapon that teams hadn’t been able to defend against. Having two quarterbacks on their team could make all the difference.
“Neutrons,” Strike muttered. “Fusion might be a spy for Zuna. Did you ever think of that?”
“Zuna cut Fusion,” Rock said. “Replaced him with White Lightning.”
“Exactly,” Strike said. “It’s probably some intricate plot, making it look like Fusion is begging for a job. And then, bam! Zuna has his spy planted, ready to crater us at the worst possible moment. Just like last year.”
“But I went looking for Fusion, not the other way around.”
“It’s true,” Fusion said. “Two Dark Siders snuck me out of North Pole Colony through one of their tunnel systems.”
“There’s a hidden hatch behind Taiko Elementary School, not far away from Shinjuku Park,” Rock said. “It took a lot of planning to get Fusion here without anyone finding out. Boom laid out such careful instructions within her secret scoreboard message.”
Strike threw up his arms in exasperation. “Zuna probably anticipated that you or me would come looking for Fusion if he got cut. Zuna is always two steps ahead of us.”
“Maybe we’re the ones who actually are three steps ahead of Zuna,” Rock said. “Perhaps I anticipated that Zuna anticipated that I anticipated—”
“You’re making my head hurt,” Strike said. “Just get rid of him.”
Pickaxe stepped forward. “I hate to admit it, but I think Rock might be onto something.” He slugged Rock’s shoulder. “You might hold the world record for dorkability. But you’re brilliant. I love this idea.”
“Dorkability?” Rock said. “What’s dorkability?” He skimmed madly through his notebook as Pickaxe and Nugget broke into laughter.
Frak, Strike thought. Why does Rock always have to be right?
A thought popped into Strike’s head. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “I should at least talk to him.”
“You should?” Rock asked. “Yes, you should.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Strike wished he could tell someone about his Ultrabot suit growing tighter by the week. But as trustworthy as his rocketback 2 was, Rock was terrible at keeping secrets. His poker face was nonexistent.
Which led to Fusion. Maybe the former Neutron knew what tech Zuna had used to enlarge Chain Reaction’s Ultrabot suit.
Before Strike could speak, Fusion spewed out a mess of thoughts. “Look, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I know this is a big surprise. I don’t like surprises. They always turn out bad.”
Strike froze. Then he laughed, a little of the tension melting away. “Totally. What I like is predictable. Reliable.” He smacked Rock’s shoulder. “I asked him to think outside the box, but I thought he’d come up with variations on zone defenses or something. Not bring in one of the greatest Ultraball players in history.”
Fusion blushed, the corners of his mouth pulling into a tiny grin. “I’m not nearly as good as you. I depended on Chain Reaction to make the big plays.” His smile vanished. “I’ll never, ever get used to talking about Ultraball in the past tense. Sometimes I hit myself in the head, hoping I’ll wake up from this frakkin’ nightmare.”
The wisp of a boy sniffled, and Strike felt his pain. Ultraball had been Fusion’s entire reason for existing. On the field, Fusion had been a warrior, a hero, a mech beast, controlling one of the most powerful pieces of weaponry in the history of humanity. Nothing could replicate that feeling.
That feeling, which would soon be ripped away from Strike, too.
“Why did Zuna cut you and Chain Reaction?” Strike asked. “Did Chain Reaction outgrow his suit?”
“I don’t know,” Fusion said. “I haven’t seen him since last year’s Ultrabowl.”
All the Miners looked at each other in confusion. The Fireball Five were together every day. Strike, Rock, and TNT met up with Pickaxe and Nugget without fail. It was crazy to think about not seeing one of them for months.
“It’s not like we were that close,” Fusion said. “I mean, except on the field.”
Strike grabbed Fusion’s shoulder. “Come with me. We have to talk.”
“Where are you taking him?” Rock said.
“Just give me a moment with him, alone,” Strike said. He motioned for Fusion to follow him.
Fusion trailed behind Strike toward the stands. The two of them went through a gate and climbed all the way up to the top row of seats.
Strike sat down, pointing to the seat next to him. He stared out into the giant cavern that had been his home away from home for four years, fixating on the words scraped into the opposite wall in ten-meter-tall letters:
MINERS TOGETHER, MINERS FOREVER
“You guys have the best home crowd in the game,” Fusion said.
“Us?” Strike said. “You guys have the fiercest, most rabid fans ever. It’s a nightmare playing in Neutron Stadium.”
“Yeah. I hate Neutron fans.”
Strike stared at Fusion, wondering if he was joking around. “What do you mean?”
“It’s so uncool to throw trash and rocks at opposing teams. I was always so embarrassed.”
“Why didn’t you ever do anything about it?”
“Like what? Mr. Zuna controls everything. He would fly off the handle if I even paused before doing whatever he ordered me to. Sometimes I wonder if he knew that I didn’t like the way he was doing things.” Fusion paused. “I think that’s why he cut me. What else could it be?”
“Were you outgrowing your suit?”
“Not even close.”
“Hey,” Strike said, trying to sound casual. “Is it possible that Zuna has a way of opening up an Ultrabot suit? I heard a rumor that Chain Reaction started outgrowing his suit two years ago, and that Zuna adjusted it so that he could extend his playing career.”
“Modify an Ultrabot suit?” Fusion stared off into the distance. “Mr. Zuna is powerful. But no one on the moon understands Ultrabot suits enough to do something like that.” He furrowed his brow. “Unless . . .”
Strike held his breath, that last word the key to his future. He waited, finally blurting out, “Unless what?”
Fusion shrugged. “I guess it’s possible. Mr. Zuna does whatever it takes to win Ultrabowls. Chain Reaction was the key to our team, so Mr. Zuna would have gone to any length to extend his playing career. He has all sorts of incredible tech. I even heard he’s somehow been stealing other teams’ signals this year.”
Strike nodded. This was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. If Zuna could find a way to enlarge an Ultrabot suit, then Strike could, too. Whatever it took, he had to extend his playing career so he could lead the Miners to their title. Fusion could be the key to that. But could Strike really trust a former Neutron?
“So you just followed two random Dark Siders who popped up at your door?” Strike said. “No questions asked?”
“Lots of questions, of course,” Fusion said. “But they told me that Boom sent them. That you could use my help, maybe even on the field. That sure got my attention.” He leaned in. “Is she really still alive?”
Strike hesitat
ed, wondering again if Zuna had put Fusion up to this. But there was no way Fusion could have gotten access to Dark Sider tunnels without Boom’s help. The secret scoreboard message really was her way of helping the Miners finally win their title. “You have four Ultrabowl rings,” he said, sidestepping Fusion’s question. “How many other teams have come knocking at your door?”
“Zero. That would make Mr. Zuna so frakkin’ mad.”
“So you decided to come here and get Zuna pissed off at us?” Strike said.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Fusion said, his eyes wide with horror. “Not at all.”
“But there’s a risk that Zuna will find out. Then you’d be screwed even worse than us. So why did you come?”
Fusion chewed on his lip and then shrugged. “You’re the greatest quarterback to ever play the game. When you get the opportunity to hang out with one of your heroes—maybe even help him—you have to take it.”
One of his heroes? Strike thought. Is he talking about me? Fusion was the one with four Ultrabowl championships under his belt, not Strike.
They sat in silence, bashfully smiling at each other. Finally, Fusion said, “Look, I get why Rock invited me here. On paper, putting me in makes a ton of sense. But there’s no way I could ever play Ultraball again. Mr. Zuna would murder me.”
“I know that feeling,” Strike muttered. “Kamar station.”
“You think he was behind the attack?”
“Pretty sure of it.”
Fusion nodded, turning back to the others. “Mr. Zuna doesn’t mess around. You sure were lucky Nitro was there to sub in. She’s incredible.” He watched as Nitro, Pickaxe, and Nugget began a set of sprints, Nitro smoking the brothers. “Even if I could somehow play again, I think you ought to stick to Nitro. With time, I bet she’ll become even better than TNT.”
“Really?”
Fusion nodded. “In a lot of ways, she reminds me of Boom. And Torch. That one comet streak option, she threw a perfect pass to Rock. Her arm is incredible.” He paused. “No offense to Rock or TNT. But you have a serious weapon. Use her.”