Ultraball #2

by Jeff Chen

  At the postgame press conference, Strike had no answers.

  Governor Katana of Taiko Colony attended the press conference as well. He smiled, saying, “I’m sure our Miners will bounce back. They always do.” But he left in a hurry, beating a hasty retreat when asked for details on how the crumbling Miners could possibly save their sinking ship.

  In another upset, the Cryptomare Molemen also lost, falling to the Tranquility Beatdown, 56–49. Wraith played a shaky game, throwing her first interception of the season and going for her fewest total meters gained. It appears her being under official investigation in connection with the string of nuclear component thefts has affected her play.

  When asked about yet more parts being stolen from North Pole Colony’s high-security facilities—four separate robberies now, including a miniature reactor that could potentially power a nuclear weapon—Raiden Zuna commented, “We will get to the bottom of these heinous felonies. I will not rest until justice is served and the United Moon Colonies are made safe once again. The Dark Sider terrorists who stole these parts are guilty of treason and will be given the death penalty.”

  Meanwhile, the North Pole Neutrons handily trounced the Yangju Venom, 91–28. After their loss to the Miners in week two, the Neutrons have regrouped in a major way, driven by the iron will of the team’s heroic owner, Raiden Zuna. The Neutrons and the Beatdown sit atop the leaderboard, both with three wins and one loss. But the Neutrons have a whopping lead in the season tie breaker, with a tremendous seventy more total points scored. They are pulling away as the dominant team of the league, ready to crush all others.

  RESULTS AND STANDINGS, AFTER WEEK 4

  RESULTS, WEEK 4

  Flamethrowers

  56

  Miners

  49

  Neutrons

  91

  Venom

  28

  Explorers

  56

  Shock

  35

  Beatdown

  56

  Molemen

  49

  STANDINGS, WEEK 4

  Wins

  Losses

  Total Points

  Neutrons

  3

  1

  371

  Beatdown

  3

  1

  301

  Molemen

  2

  2

  287

  Miners

  2

  2

  287

  Flamethrowers

  2

  2

  280

  Explorers

  2

  2

  252

  Shock

  1

  3

  210

  Venom

  0

  4

  140

  10

  Roster Controversy

  TWO DAYS LATER, the Miners practiced inside Taiko Arena, everyone whacking away at the ball curled tightly in Nitro’s gloved hands. They had been going at this for thirty full minutes, Nitro doing everything she could to not lose the ball.

  Strike was watching from inside the coach’s box, with TNT and Fusion sitting on either side of him. His eyes went in and out of focus as he tried to concentrate. Ever since the loss to the Flamethrowers, he had felt like he was on the verge of total breakdown. The raw fury was intense. LunarSports Reports blasted Strike 24/7, but even the unbiased media outlets were going nuts. The SmashMouth Radio Blitz was almost as bad, Berzerkatron and the Mad Mongol demanding that Strike do something to fix the team or step down as coach. Some of the more rabid Miners fans had even started a petition to get Strike to go to Moon Dock station and launch himself out the airlock, into the black void of space. Only the twenty-one colony governors knew the code to operate Moon Dock airlock, but there was no doubt that Raiden Zuna would have been happy to oblige. Almost every analyst and color commentator across the moon questioned Strike’s abilities as general manager.

  The worst part was that Strike did, too.

  Even after sleepless nights of talking things through with Rock and TNT, he still couldn’t figure out if he should stick to Nitro, or if he should try to call up someone else off his backup list. Maybe even try to convince Fusion to suit up for the Miners. Nitro had incredible talent, but she couldn’t hold on to the ball. The only person who had fumbled more times in a single game was Torch, years ago, in his first game as quarterback for the Farajah Flamethrowers. Strike couldn’t help wondering if they really were both cursed.

  Strike turned to TNT, eyeing his midsection. “You feeling any better today?”

  TNT put a hand on the left side of his belly, wincing as he did. “I want to suit up so bad. But if anything, it seems like it’s getting worse.”

  Strike wished they could send him back to the hospital to get checked out. But Rock had already stretched the Miners’ meager budget, making magic happen to pay for the first visit. There was no possible way they could afford another. “You know what they say,” Strike said. “Things will get a lot worse before they don’t. Wait. How does that one go?” He looked to the field, where Rock had snuck up on Nitro and was whacking away at the Ultraball.

  “Even I know that one,” TNT said. “But I never understood it. Why do things have to get worse before they get better? Why can’t they just get better?”

  Strike sat in silence, contemplating TNT’s question. Finally, he broke into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” TNT asked.

  “I don’t know,” Strike said. “Just makes me realize how stupid I am. Not a lot of things I’ll be able to do after my Ultraball career is over.”

  Fusion silently dropped his head, his lips trembling.

  “Frak,” Strike said. “I’m such a moron. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay,” Fusion said, even though it clearly wasn’t.

  “I owe you, big-time,” Strike said. “Genius idea to cure Nitro of her fumbling.”

  A thin smile came to Fusion’s face. “Thanks again for letting me help out. Almost makes me feel alive again.” His shoulders sagged forward. “Almost.”

  Strike closed his eyes, thinking back to Zuna’s offer to enlarge his Ultrabot suit, sorely tempted to go back and take the deal.

  A sharp crack made him jerk his head back to the on-field action. Nitro shook off Pickaxe and then Nugget, all the while cradling the Ultraball with both hands. She juked as Pickaxe leapt for her, high-stepping over his outstretched arms. Rock leapt out of a field pit and bashed into her, but she protected the Ultraball against her chest plate like it was a stash of fresh food.

  Strike nodded. “Time,” he said into his headset. “Nice work, Nitro.”

  “I did it,” she yelled into the helmet comm. “I did it!” She held the ball over her head. “No one knocked it—”

  Pickaxe launched a huge roundhouse punch at the Ultraball. With a clang, it flew out of her glove.

  Her visor flipped to clear, she turned to Pickaxe, who was beaming at her. “Let’s see,” he said. “What should I have you call me this time?”

  “But that’s not fair,” Nitro said. “The play was over. I thought that . . . that . . .”

  “Hey, Fusion,” Pickaxe said. “What was your rule?” He grinned at Nitro.

  “She knows it,” Fusion said. He shrugged apologetically, but he couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from pulling up.

  Pickaxe held a gloved hand to his ear. “So then remind me, what’s Fusion’s rule?”

  “Anytime I let the Ultraball get knocked out, I have to call the person who knocked it out anything he wants,” Nitro mumbled.

  “Even if it’s not during a play,” Pickaxe added. “Any time at all. From the first moment you suit up and grab an Ultraball, to the last second before you click out. Right?”

  “Right,” Nitro said.

  “Don’t you mean, ‘Right, oh great majestic wonder whose farts smell like gold’?” Pickaxe cracked up as he flipped his helmet visor to clear. />
  “I’m not saying that,” Nitro said. She turned to Strike. “Come on. Do I really have to say that? How can farts smell like gold, anyway?”

  With a wry smile, Strike shrugged. “Gotta do it.”

  “I hate you all,” Nitro grumbled. But she turned to Pickaxe. “Fine. Oh great majestic wonder whose farts smell like gold.” She gave him an exaggerated bow.

  “Now that’s better,” Pickaxe said. “But your majesty demands an even deeper bow. More like this.” He bent from the waist, one hand in front and one in back in a ridiculous display. “And would it kill you to give me a little curtsy? Just one girly little curtsy is all I’m asking for.” He daintily put a foot out.

  Nitro glared as Pickaxe laughed and bowed even farther, his head all the way down to waist level. She quietly picked up the Ultraball and raised it high. With a great big smile on her face, she smashed the ball across the back of Pickaxe’s helmet, knocking him face-first to the ground.

  As Nugget burst into maniacal giggles, Pickaxe looked up from the turf, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Hey, you can’t do that,” he said.

  “That’s what you get for calling me girly,” Nitro said. “And last time I checked, there was no rule about punishing frakkin’ idiots for being total frakkin’ morons on the field.”

  “She has a point,” Fusion said.

  Pickaxe opened his mouth to complain, but then he grinned. “Don’t you mean, ‘for being total morons, oh great majestic wonder whose farts smell like gold’?”

  Nitro sighed, looking up to the coach’s box. “How long are we going to do this for?”

  “The entire season, all the way through the playoffs,” Strike said. “It’ll cure you of your fumbling.” He called out to the others. “Okay, everyone. Back out to the end zone for more fumble drills.”

  As Nugget, Pickaxe, and Rock ran off, Nitro hung back for a moment. She turned to TNT, her eyes pleading. “You have to get better soon. So many people are talking about the Curse, Part II.” She hung her head. “I can’t take the pressure.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” TNT said. “By the playoffs for sure. Just hang in there, okay?”

  Nitro took a deep breath and nodded. She cradled her Ultraball extra tight in both arms before trudging off toward the others.

  As the Miners jogged toward the far end zone, Strike leaned in to whisper to Fusion. “Hey. Are you sure that—”

  “Nitro is your best option at rocketback 1, bar none,” Fusion said. “She even has a great arm. Her long bomb to Rock against the Flamethrowers was incredible. Right on the money. If someone asked me to start an Ultraball team with anybody I wanted, she would be at the very top of my list.”

  “Aside from me, right?” TNT said. He smiled, but there was a tinge of worry behind it.

  “Uh. Right.” Fusion turned away, staring at the Miners on the field.

  “Don’t worry,” Strike said, nudging TNT. “No one is taking your roster spot. You saved my life back at Kamar station. I’ll get you back on the field as soon as you’re ready to go.”

  Holding his side, TNT took a pained breath and nodded.

  Fusion pumped his fist as Nitro held on to the ball after a vicious triple-team attack from Pickaxe, Nugget, and Rock. “Carrying an Ultraball every moment she’s suited up will force her to take care of it. Trust me. She’s going to be a superstar. Look at how much everyone on the team loves her. If she could just find some confidence, she might even become league MVP. Take you guys all the way to a title.”

  Strike looked into Fusion’s eyes. “If you were starting a team, you’d really take her over any other rocketback?”

  “Without a shred of doubt,” Fusion said. He stole a glance at TNT but quickly turned away. “She will lead you guys to the promised land. Just make sure she carries around that Ultraball any time she’s suited up. Every practice, every game, every moment. From now, all the way through the Ultrabowl.”

  Strike took a hardtack bar out of his pocket and started gnawing on the nasty thing. As Rock had concluded, it was impossible to make the nutrient bars taste better. But as Strike watched Nitro juke out Rock with a fancy jab-step spin, all the time holding the Ultraball carefully tucked in, his confidence grew. Maybe she can do the impossible. If I can just get her to believe in herself. He swallowed, almost tricking himself into thinking that the bar tasted good.

  Almost.

  “Hey, Strike.” Fusion paused. He glanced sidelong at TNT. “Can I talk to you? In private?”

  “Anything you can tell me, you can tell TNT.”

  “Please.” Fusion bit his lip. “It’s kind of top secret.”

  Strike hesitated, but TNT shrugged. “It’s cool.” He got up and moved away, limping as he went.

  After TNT got out of earshot, Fusion leaned in to whisper. “I met up with Radioactive in secret,” he said. “Found out something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He heard that Mr. Zuna has developed ways of stealing other teams’ signals. Really sneaky stuff. You gotta be extra careful.”

  “How is he doing it? Which signals?”

  “Don’t know. But there’s more. A lot more.” He huddled in. “Swear that you won’t tell anyone you heard it from me? Mr. Zuna would cut my and Radioactive’s throats if he ever found out.”

  Strike leaned over, crouching down. “I promise.”

  Looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Fusion leaned in. “Radioactive thinks Mr. Zuna ordered the attack at Kamar station.”

  “I knew it,” Strike hissed. “He was aiming to take out TNT, wasn’t he?”

  “Radioactive doesn’t know. Might have been you. But one thing is for sure: Mr. Zuna is hell-bent on winning the Ultrabowl. At any cost.”

  Strike blinked hard. He looked over to his injured rocketback sitting nearby—the boy who had taken a knife for him. “You trust Radioactive?”

  Fusion nodded. “Ion Storm and the rest are Zuna’s lackeys, but Radioactive is like a brother to me. He’s scared. Mr. Zuna has done a lot of shady stuff in the past, but this is at a whole new level.”

  Strike sat quietly as he processed it all. Surprisingly, a thin smile came to his face. It was almost funny that Zuna’s attack at Kamar station had resulted in Nitro stepping up. How perfect would it be if she ended up leading us to an Ultrabowl victory over Zuna’s Neutrons? he thought.

  “There’s more,” Fusion said. “I found out why Mr. Zuna cut me.” He stopped, biting his lip. “Radioactive thinks that Mr. Zuna signed White Lightning because White Lightning was desperate. Desperate enough to be forced into doing a secret project. Late at night, Mr. Zuna has been working him to death. White Lightning has been suiting up. To build something big.”

  Strike’s forehead wrinkled up. “That’s illegal,” he said.

  “I know,” Fusion said. “But I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Zuna to send White Lightning sneaking around after dark, all suited up.”

  “Where’s he going?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Strike sat back in thought. It was against league rules to use Ultrabot suits for anything except Ultraball. But it’d be relatively easy for someone to skulk around undetected during the moon’s artificial night. Hardly anyone on the moon went out after dark. It’d be especially easy with an Ultrabot suit’s high-tech sensors and lighting at your disposal. “What’s he building?”

  “Some sort of weapon.”

  Strike’s heart stopped for a long moment. “What kind of a weapon? Like the Meltdown Gun?”

  “He doesn’t know,” Fusion said.

  “Then why does he think it’s a weapon?”

  Fusion’s voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “He heard a code name for whatever White Lightning is assembling.” His lower lip trembled. “It’s called Operation Deathstrike.”

  THE

  SMASHMOUTH

  RADIO BLITZ

  BERZERKATRON: And we’re back, the one-two punch of Berzerkatron and the Mad Mongol, breaking down the acti
on around the league. The new-look Taiko Miners are today’s hot-button topic, after crushing the Saladin Shock in week five, 98–63. I gotta admit, folks, I was dead wrong about Nitro. Yesterday, she put herself in MVP contention. With ten total scores—six receiving, three rushing, and one astounding full-field pass off the option, she almost broke the Miners’ team record for touchdowns in a single game. She’s so good, I think the Miners ought to stick with her, even when TNT is back from injury. No question about it—the Miners have the big mo: momentum. They might just go all the way.

  THE MAD MONGOL: When you say “the big mo,” you must mean “the big mo-ron.” As in: you. The new-look Miners? Nitro had a great day, I’ll grant you that. She looked almost as good as Chain Reaction in his prime. Whatever happened to that dude, anyway? But the Neutrons are still going to roll into the playoffs and then crush everyone.

  BERZERKATRON: What, are you working for LunarSports Reports now? Zuna forcing you to pump up his Neutrons and talk smack about the Miners?

  THE MAD MONGOL: Hey, now. It’s all fun and games until someone gets accused of working for LunarSports Reports. Look. I give Nitro credit. She whupped on the Shock. Yanked down their Ultrabot suit trousers and turbo-spanked their bare bottoms. But it’s just one game.

  BERZERKATRON: Look at her leadership, though. The postgame press conference, where Nitro gave her teammates all the credit for the win?

  THE MAD MONGOL: Okay, that made me laugh so hard I nearly pooped my jumpsuit. That question about her one fumble, recovered by Nugget—what was it that she called him?

  BERZERKATRON: It sounded like “Lord Protector Whose Regal Butt I Must Wipe.” That was frakkin’ hilarious. And that’s leadership, man. Raw, natural leadership. The team is already rallying behind her. They love her. You can see it in their eyes.

  THE MAD MONGOL: All right, all right. But let’s be real. No way they get past the Neutrons, who have all but guaranteed themselves the number one seed. As talented as Nitro is, she ain’t never getting by Neutron Nation. Not at Neutron Stadium.