by S. L. Viehl
Dhreen peeled off his Lok-Teel mask and handed it to me before he went over to the drone. With a single jerk, he tore the entire operational system—core, panels, and circuitry—off the back of the drone. Towels thudded to the floor, then the unit collapsed on top of them.
I just stood there and stared. “That was … efficient.”
“You still haven’t said how you plan to get out on the field.”
I located Black Otter’s locker, which contained a clean uniform and helmet. He’d been unable to play since escaping the hospital. I slipped the Lok-Teel under my tunic. “You’re going to put me in the game.”
Once we had stowed the cats in a safe place, Dhreen helped me with the disguise. The outer uniform jersey and leggings were made of a elastic material, suitable for fitting over the various body protectors I had to strap on. The thick protective pads and thermal leggings to prevent discharge burn weighed about as much as I did. By the time he handed me the helmet to wear over my face, I was ready to topple over.
“How do they run wearing all this stuff?” I took an experimental step and nearly went sprawling on the floor. “Never mind run—how do they walk?”
I took a few minutes to practice balancing on the special footgear designed for the synthetic grass of the arena field, then sighed. “This is as steady as I’m going to get.”
“Right on time, Doc.” Dhreen nodded toward the field. “The amusement’s about to commence.”
Emerging from the locker room into the players’ walkway was an experience. Extra seating had been installed overhead to accommodate the additional spectators for the World Game, and some three hundred thousand fans stood shrieking for their teams.
“Ear plugs,” I muttered as we cringed under the solid wall of sound. “I should have remembered ear plugs.”
The Gliders’ familiar red-and-black team colors dominated the arena, as they were not only the home team, but favored to win this final match. Everywhere I looked, fans sported the mini black-winged hats and divided red-and-black face paint.
Vendors circled on modified hover boards, advertising their wares by using holo-imaged signs slung around their necks. They sold everything, from the traditional popcorn and synbeef dogs to more exotic treats like Fhirrede iced curds and Kirlian colas. The official team bands were trying so hard to outplay each other, their songs tangled into a noisy jumble of notes.
Dancers were still writhing in their glittering costumes all over the playing field, tumbling into acrobatic formations, shooting off small versions of the fireworks that would fill the skies above the arena once the contest was over.
But there wouldn’t be any fireworks today, I reminded myself, if I didn’t get moving and find Reever.
I stepped out of the passage and onto the boundary between the arena seating and the Gliders’ sideline area. I was sweating and terrified I’d be stopped for some ridiculous reason.
“Swagger,” I heard Dhreen say.
I turned around. “What?”
“Swagger. Sashay. Strut.” He threw up his hands, in disgust with stanTerran, me, or both. “Walk like you’re a shockball player.”
I tried to swagger. It was a fairly insurmountable task, with all the equipment weighing me down. Maybe I should take off my helmet, give everyone one of my patented haughty looks. That might chase people away. Just as I loosened the straps, I remembered.
There were no female players on the Gliders’ team.
Scratch looking haughty and unapproachable.
As I walked down the sidelines, a couple of drone officials buzzed around me, then scanned the code on my player’s badge and whizzed off. The fans hit new heights in sound pollution as they screeched for the game to begin. Glancing up at those thousands of rabid, thrilled faces made my stomach roll.
They can’t wait to see someone go down and fry.
The two bands called a temporary truce as the pre-game performers left the field, and began striking up the opening notes of the World Anthem. I had no choice but to follow the Gliders as they trotted out onto the field.
Finally I saw Reever’s number fourteen on the other end of the line, but the song was already playing and I couldn’t move out of place. I’d have to catch him before he took up his position.
The anthem ended, and the fans cheered. I tried to dart down to the other end of the fine, but a drone buzzed in my face before I had gone more than a dozen steps toward Reever.
“Defense will remain on the sidelines. Offense will compete for possession of the sphere.”
Just my luck, Reever was on offense. I wasn’t.
The Gliders won the drive, and the first play was in motion by the time I spotted Reever again. He ran the sphere, passing it back and forth in a triangular motion between him and two other offensive runbacks. The opposing team smashed into all three of them, and Reever went down on top of the sphere.
I stood frozen, waiting for something to blow.
“First sphere down!” A drone official called. “Second in four point three!”
The stomping and yelling became synchronized, and directed at Reever. “Nilch’i’! Nilch’i’! Nilch’i’!”
I measured the distance the Gliders would have to run to get to the touchzone. About sixty yards. Reever and the other players were huddled together at the lineup. Maybe I could catch his attention from the sidelines, call him over before the next drive started.
I tried to link, but I was still too far away. So I waved my arms and yelled, “Duncan!”
A couple of the players on the field glanced at me, but no one moved out of the huddle. Someone cuffed me on the back of the head. “Shut up, Otter! He can hardly hear to call his plays!”
I looked up at Handsome Runner, who was glowering down at me. “Sorry.”
“You are not Black Otter.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who are you?”
“Second string,” I mumbled, and quickly dodged around him to walk out of questioning range. Along the way, a couple of the players pummeled me with their fists.
“Otter, good to see you!”
“I thought you had taken up weaving!”
“Does the chief know you’re back?”
The next drive began, which drew everyone’s attention back to the game. I hid behind a couple of line drones, trying to see another way to get on the field, and praying Reever would lose possession of the sphere.
He didn’t. The Gliders got to the forty.
I tried to sneak onto the field a couple of times, until the drones got tired of me and warned me one more attempt would result in an auto-penalty. My attempts to link also failed. Reever, on the other hand, was doing a brilliant job of moving the sphere down the field, getting closer and closer to the touchzone.
The thirty. The twenty. The closer he got, the more I shook.
At the twenty, the team lined up in touchzone formation. I knew that from the excited cheers of the players.
“Bring it down, bring it down!”
“Shove that sphere pole down his throat!”
“Go for it, you can do it, you can do it!”
I had to do it now, before the next drive started. I stepped over the boundary line and an official immediately buzzed over to block my path.
“Defense will remain on the sidelines until possession of the sphere changes teams.”
I doused the drone with the cup of JocAid I’d gotten for that specific purpose, and ran onto the field. “Duncan!”
He was still in the huddle, still unable to hear me. The sound of the boos and hisses from the fans was merciless. A cluster of drone officials was heading to intercept me. I’d never make it. But I was close enough now to link.
Duncan, damn it, look at me!
Reever straightened and stared out of the huddle, looking around. As I ran toward him, I lifted my hands to take my helmet off so he could see my face.
Duncan, you’re in danger, can you hear me? Whatever you do, don’t make the sphere-down.
The next thing I knew I was b
eing dragged off the field. I fought, desperate to get loose and get to Reever. Whoever had me held on tight. Through my helmet, I heard the low, familiar sneer.
“Nice try, woman.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Game Sphere
Milass had stolen my idea and was wearing a helmet and one of the Gliders’ uniforms. As he hauled me past the other players and the angry drone officials, I tried yelling for help.
“Stop him! He’s crazy!”
Someone snorted. “He’s not the one who nearly cost us a penalty by tromping out on the field.”
I turned to the stands. “Help! He’s going to kill me!”
A couple of men laughed. One woman yelled back, “If he doesn’t, I will!”
Everyone on the sidelines ignored us, which made it easy for Milass to drag me away and into the equipment pit. When we were out of sight, he shoved me against the wall.
“Well, little sister.” Rico stepped out of the shadows. “You’ve shown your superior ability once more. How did you get to the surface?”
“Teleportation.” I tried to duck around him, but that only got me thrown back against the wall by Milass for my efforts. “Get out of my way, Rico. I’m not going to let you kill him.”
“There’s nothing you can do to stop it. They won’t let you back on the field now. Listen. The sphere is in play. The Wind is about to blow itself out.”
“No!” I went crazy, throwing myself at him, clawing at his face, beating him with my fists. “He heard me, he heard me tell him! He won’t do it!”
“Even if he doesn’t make the score, he still dies.” He got my hands pinned to the wall and his face in mine in short order. “I’ve programmed the computer to administer five penalties to him. If they don’t make sphere-down by the end of the first interval, he gets automatically charged with delay of game and unsporting conduct and a few other things. Shock, shock, shock, shock, shock. Each one more severe. The last one is special. It’s three times the usual voltage.”
Milass laughed. “That should cook him like a Founder’s Day turkey.”
There was a strange moaning sound to one side of us, and I looked over. Kegide stepped into the light, and made the odd, keening sound again. In his arms were both of my cats. Juliet stayed curled up against his broad chest, but Jenner lifted his head, sniffed, then jumped down to come after me.
“Everyone leaps to defend you. Even your precious little pet.” To Kegide, Rico said, “Put the animal down and come here.”
Kegide shook his head.
“He doesn’t understand, Chief,” Milass said. “Let me do her. I’ve been wanting to for months.”
Rico took a pistol out of his tunic, raised it, and shot Milass in the face. The blast decapitated him. I screamed.
“Never tell me what to do,” Rico said to the headless corpse, still twitching on the floor. “I am your chief.” He turned to Kegide. “I gave you an order, follow it.”
“Jenner!” I shrieked.
Rico glanced down at the floor. My beloved pet was crouched right in front of him, ready to spring. “Kegide! Come and get this mangy animal away from me.”
Kegide didn’t move.
“Very well, I’ll do it myself.” My brother aimed his weapon at Jenner. I shoved just as he fired, and the shot went wide. Jenner stopped playing the hero, screeched, and dove under the benches.
“Kegide,” I shouted. “Help them! Get them out of here!”
Kegide carefully set down Juliet instead and came toward Rico, shaking his head, making the raspy, moaning sound.
“She’ll have them send you back to where we came from, remember?” Rico snarled at his enforcer. “Remember the little room they made you stay in? I took you from there, I gave you a life. You owe me that life, Kegide.” He shoved me into Kegide’s arms. “Show me your gratitude and kill her!”
Instead of snapping my neck, Kegide set me aside as gently as he had Juliet. Then he kept advancing on Rico, his hands outstretched.
Rico looked stunned at the big man’s betrayal. He lifted the pistol. “I should have left you there to rot, you imbecile.”
“Kegide!” I screamed.
Kegide lunged, and Rico fired the pistol. The enormous body stiffened, then dropped short to land at the chief’s feet.
I tried to get to him, but Rico grabbed me and put the hot end of the barrel under my chin. “Your turn.”
Duncan. I closed my eyes. I can’t keep my promise.
Someone stepped into the equipment pit. “It’s time to stop this,” he said. “Let her go, son.”
I opened my eyes. Joseph Grey Veil closed the door panel and leaned back against it.
He wasn’t carrying a weapon, or had anyone with him. His immaculate business suit and calm, unruffled appearance made him look as though he’d just left a medical conference. He looked utterly confident of his control over the situation.
Probably thought he was. Obviously, he’d forgotten what I’d said to him, the last time we were together.
“Lend me your pistol for a minute,” I said to my brother. “Then you can shoot me.”
“He’s not going to shoot anyone else, are you, Jericho?”
“Why are you here, old man?” Rico’s voice changed, went flat. “You’re supposed to be at your lab.”
“Yes, I know. Unfortunately, I would have been, if I hadn’t gotten a signal from Ilona Red Faun. She told me Cherijo would be here.”
Rico’s grip on me tightened. “Ilona lives?”
“Sorry, I forgot to mention it,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll find her later.” He sighed. “Well, Father, I’m surprised you were able to get tickets. Have you seen my team play?”
“Yes. They’re quite competent.”
“We’ve been trying to get to the World Game for five years. I think changing the starting offense line was the key to winning the semifinals.” He sounded like a little boy now, trying to impress his daddy. “I made some other changes, got them to stop whining about penalties. Thanks to you, I learned a little pain goes a long way.”
Joseph got tired of listening, and held out his hand. “Jericho, give me the weapon.”
“Don’t you want your daughter?” Rico’s free hand turned my face toward his, and he gave me a leisurely kiss. I didn’t move. “She’s everything you said she would be. Beautiful. Intelligent. Resourceful. Sensual.” He stroked his free hand down the front of my body, and patted my right thigh. “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having her all these months.”
I thought about telling Joseph that he’d never touched me, but I wasn’t sure what might set either of them off.
“She doesn’t belong to you.”
“She’s been very happy in her loving brother’s arms, Father.”
“Loving?” Joe let his upper lip curl. “You tried to kill her four times when she was an infant.”
“She was so small and helpless, it was practically irresistible. Can you really blame me for what I did when I was a boy?”
“No. I failed in that, Jericho. I failed to recognize the genius behind the psychosis. Even after all the studies.”
The studies. When he’d raped his own son.
“Shoot him,” I said to Rico. “Or shoot me, because I don’t want to listen to another word of this.”
“But you don’t get a choice, little sister. See, I’ve had fantasies about this sort of meeting. I never dreamed I’d have the two of you together. Have the chance to exterminate both of you at the same time. My esteemed parent, and my brilliant sister. Scientist and experiment, all rolled into one. Do you want to know why I really bought a shockball franchise?”
“Why?”
Rico giggled. “He hates the game, don’t you, Father?”
“She’s nothing. A failure. The experiment never worked,” Joseph said. “Let her go. Come back to the estate with me. We can talk about the future.”
“That’s a very good bluff, Father. Unfortunately, I was around long enough to see just how suc
cessful number ten here was. She’s the one you were waiting for. I think it must have taken superhuman effort for you to keep your hands off her.”
“We can talk about everything back at the estate.” Joseph looked at me. “Bring her with us, if you like. She has no clinical value to me, but we can use her in other ways.”
“You want to share her between us?” Rico sputtered an incredulous laugh. “What a provocative thought. There is more of you inside me than I imagined.”
I told Joe what I thought of him. In no uncertain terms.
Rico’s grip on the pistol shifted. “Her speech patterns leave a great deal to be desired. No, if she is a failure, Father, let me put her out of her misery.”
Our creator looked bored now. “Very well.”
Rico’s hand tightened on my thigh, then he moved it around toward the small of my back, and gave me a shove. “Give Daddy a kiss good-bye, Cherijo.”
I stumbled forward, and Joseph caught me in his arms. He lowered his head as if to kiss me, while I shrieked and twisted against his hold.
But he didn’t kiss me. He whispered against my ear, “I love you. Run.”
The interior lights went out. Joe pushed me behind him and lunged toward Jericho. My brother shouted something obscene, then I heard the pistol fire as I turned around. I saw the pulse hit Joseph’s chest, watched as the front of his torso exploded.
“No!” In spite of everything, I reached out.
The emergency lighting flickered on.
“Go …” Joseph wheezed, and staggered the last couple of steps so he could fling his ruined body on top of my insane brother.
I covered my mouth in horror, backing away. Then I remembered Duncan and the explosives, and frantically groped for the door.
Someone’s gentle hands eased mine away from the panel. “Wait, patcher.”
It was Ilona Red Faun, and with her were about a dozen of the outcasts. They filed in, surrounding me in a protective circle. None of them looked angry, but they were all staring at Jericho, who was still trying to get out from under Joseph’s body. His pistol waved wildly in the air.
“Ilona, you traitorous bitch. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill all of you!”