by Scott Sigler
“But why?”
Kimberlin gestured to the stands behind the awning, filled beyond capacity with white-and purple-clad supporters of the criminals. “Quentin, think — you were on the cover of Galaxy Sports Magazine for various transgressions against a sport these sentients worship. You’re a villain.”
“But ... but we didn’t have a problem against the Ice Storm.”
“That was a home game,” Kimberlin said. “The Ionath crowd will forgive you for anything. Road games, as you’ve just found, are going to be a different story. Krakens fans love you. The rest of the galaxy hates you to a significant degree.”
Quentin had felt like all was lost when he read that article. Then came the support of Gredok the Splithead, of his teammates. Then the huge opening-day win and the love of the home crowd. He’d thought the situation was mostly behind him, felt it would blow over. Now, however, he understood that he would only find favor on Ionath.
He looked for Don Pine, found him standing under the awning farther down the sideline. No garbage on him. Don caught Quentin’s stare, then looked down.
All of this hate — sentients throwing garbage — it was all Don Pine’s fault. The great Don Pine, who would not take responsibility for his actions.
Quentin could do nothing about Don at the moment. What he could do, however, was channel the rage he felt into his play on the field. So the Criminals’ fans thought he was garbage?
He’d show them. He’d show them right here and right now.
• • •
THE CRIMINALS WON THE TOSS. Quentin had to wait to make his mark, but he didn’t wait long — Criminals quarterback Rick Renaud showed why he was the highest-paid player in the game, hitting four straight completions on his first drive. His fourth pass found tight end Andreas Kimming in the end zone for a 27-yard touchdown.
Criminals 7, Krakens 0.
• • •
ON THE KRAKENS’ FIRST DRIVE, Quentin didn’t even get a chance to throw.
Yall’s best defensive players were Riha the Hammer and Forrest Dane Cauthorn — the middle linebackers in the Criminals’ 3-4 defense. Seasoned veterans in their prime, both had earned All-Pro honors a few years back. They were good. Hokor wanted to go after them head-on. If the Krakens could dominate those two, they could establish a steady running game that would chew up the clock and keep Rick Renaud off the field.
Ju Tweedy took the ball on a sweep to the left, led by Michael Kimberlin, who had pulled from the right side of center to block wide-left. Kimberlin took out Riha the Hammer — HeavyG versus Quyth Warrior — and Ju cut outside. It might have been a long run if Ju had put a move on Cauthorn, but instead Ju tried to overpower the linebacker in a Human-on-Human battle. Cauthorn put his helmet right on the ball — it popped free. Yall recovered.
Criminals’ ball on the Ionath 35-yard line.
The Krakens offense ran off the field. As soon as Ju got up, he sprinted to catch up with Quentin.
“Q! I didn’t mean that. I just lost it!”
“I know,” Quentin said as both players reached the sidelines.
“Seriously, Q! I’m sorry, I–”
Quentin grabbed Ju’s shoulder pad, gave it a single shake, cutting off the running back’s sentence.
“Ju, they threw garbage on us. Hold on to the ball.”
Ju’s expression shifted from one of worry to one of resolve. He nodded. Quentin slapped him on the shoulder, then turned to watch his defense.
• • •
IT TOOK RICK RENAUD exactly one play to find fullback Tay “The Weazel” Nguyen at the 15-yard line. Tay had beaten John Tweedy on a little wheel pattern. The Weazel caught the pass in stride, turned up field and ran over Davenport on his way to a 35-yard touchdown pass.
Just two minutes and ten seconds into the first quarter, Renaud was 5-for-5 for 102 yards and two touchdowns. The Criminals were up 14-0.
If the defense didn’t get to Renaud, put pressure on him, smack him around a little bit, Quentin didn’t see how the Krakens could win the game.
• • •
ON IONATH’S SECOND DRIVE, Ju didn’t fumble. No matter how badly Quentin wanted to throw the ball, wanted to match Renaud’s stellar performance, he stuck to the game plan. The Krakens kept it on the ground, pounding it up the middle behind the dominant blocking of Sho-Do-Thikit and Bud-O-Shwek. The Criminals seemed comfortable with their early lead, staying back to prevent big passes to Hawick and Milford. When Quentin did pass, they were quick-hits for 5 or 6 yards.
The Krakens’ second drive ate up over six minutes of clock, but stalled at the 11. On fourth down, Arioch Morningstar kicked a short field goal to put the Krakens on the board 14-3.
• • •
THE CRIMINALS ANSWERED that field goal with one of their own, going up 17-3 early in the second quarter. Renaud’s receivers dropped two passes on the drive, preventing him from a perfect day. That was the only thing that could stop him, it seemed.
Down two touchdowns, Quentin started looking for deeper passes. Too late he realized he was forcing the ball, the fact hitting home only after he threw an interception.
The Krakens offense again ran off the field. The Criminals had the ball on the 50 with a chance to go up 24-3.
• • •
THAT CHANCE ENDED on a linebacker blitz. John Tweedy and Mum-O-Killowe ran a stunt, criss-crossing their paths and both of them beat their blockers. John came in free and clear. Renaud stepped right at the last second to avoid being decapitated, but John managed to grab the quarterback’s jersey and hang on. Renaud tried to pull free, still looking downfield to get rid of the ball and he didn’t see Mum-O in time.
The Ki lineman compressed and smashed Renaud with a full extension. Renaud’s body bounced back like he’d been hit by a speeding hovertank. He didn’t get up. A hush fell over the home crowd as the medsled flew onto the field.
Quentin didn’t wish injury on any player, but he couldn’t help a slight, involuntary fist-pump when the sled extended thousands of silvery filaments to lift the prone Criminals quarterback.
Rick Renaud was out of the game and that meant the Krakens were back in it.
• • •
WITH RENAUD OUT, the momentum shifted over to Ionath. Ju ran the ball again and again, he and the Krakens offensive line wearing down Riha the Hammer, Forrest Dane Cauthorn and the rest of the Criminals defense. The Krakens cut the lead to 7 when Ju rattled off a 15-yard touchdown run, then tied the game when he snagged another score from 5 yards out.
In the fourth quarter, Morningstar hit a 40-yard field goal. Quentin finished off the game with a 32-yard pass to George Starcher for the final touchdown.
The Krakens ran off the field to more garbage, but that nasty rain was easier to tolerate when accompanied by a 27-17 win, a 2-0 record and a first-place standing in the Planet Division.
GFL WEEK TWO ROUNDUP
Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network
IN WHAT COULD BE a changing of the guard, the Ionath Krakens moved to 2-0 with a 27-17 Monday Night Football win over the favored Yall Criminals (1-1). Yall quarterback Rick Renaud was unstoppable in the first quarter, but an injury in the second took him out of the game. With Renaud out, Ionath used a ball-control offense to dominate the game. Ju Tweedy ran for 156 yards and a pair of touchdowns, while Krakens QB Quentin Barnes threw for another. Barnes finished 15-of-21 for 231 yards.
As impressive as Ju Tweedy’s performance was, it took a back-seat to Denver’s three-touchdown-catch performance for the Jupiter Jacks (2-0) in their 24-20 win over the Sala Intrigue (1-1). Denver caught eight passes for 115 yards to keep Jupiter tied for first in the Solar Division.
The Orbiting Death (2-0) remains tied for first in the Planet Division thanks to a 21-0 shutout of the Jang Atom Smashers (0-2). This is the first-ever 2-0 start by a newly promoted team.
The To Pirates (2-0) and the Wabash Wolfpack (2-0) also remain tied for first in the Planet Division, while wins by Neptune (2-0) and New Rodina (2-0) kept t
hem tied with Jupiter for first in the Solar.
Deaths
Alimum Armada cornerback Monsaraz, who died on a clean block by Wabash Wolfpack fullback Ralph Schmeer.
Offensive Player of the Week
Jupiter Jacks receiver Denver, who caught touchdown passes of 55, 43 and 15 yards en route to a 115-yard receiving day.
Defensive Player of the Week
Ionath Krakens defensive tackle Mum-O-Killowe, who registered four tackles and three sacks, including one that put Yall quarterback Rick Renaud out of the game early in the second quarter.
13
WEEK THREE:
CORANADILLANA CLOUD KILLERS
at IONATH KRAKENS
PLANET DIVISION
2-0 Ionath Krakens
2-0 OS1 Orbiting Death
2-0 To Pirates
2-0 Wabash Wolfpack
1-1 Isis Ice Storm
1-1 Themala Dreadnaughts
1-1 Yall Criminals
0-2 Alimum Armada
0-2 Coranadillana Cloud Killers
0-2 Hittoni Hullwalkers
0-2 Lu Juggernauts
SOLAR DIVISION
2-0 Jupiter Jacks
2-0 Neptune Scarlet Fliers
2-0 New Rodina Astronauts
1-1 Bartel Water Bugs
1-1 Bord Brigands
1-1 D’Kow War Dogs
1-1 Sala Intrigue
1-1 Shorah Warlords
0-2 Jang Atom Smashers
0-2 Texas Earthlings
0-2 Vik Vanguard
QUENTIN WOKE UP when his body slid forward.
His hands shot out automatically, bracing against soft leather. The disorientation only lasted a few seconds; he was in the back of a limo, alone. Had he fallen asleep?
He looked out the window at Hotel Gibberdon. The place looked classy. The hotel’s name was spelled out in carved stone instead of garish, glowing holo. Stone, burnished metal, wood; everything about the place screamed expensive, privileged. That’s where you stayed when you were a rock star.
Outside the limo, things looked a little ... foggy?
The limo door opened. Quentin stepped out. Yes, it was fog.
Quentin gestured to the mist, turned to the Quyth Worker driver. “What’s this all about? Ionath City is under a dome. How can we have fog?”
“Some kind of a breakdown on the atmosphere processors or something, Mister Barnes. Happens from time to time.”
“Huh. Can it rain?”
The driver shook his head. “No, no rain, but watch your step. Things can be a little slippery until they fix it.”
Quyth Workers wearing neat, red uniforms rushed out from the hotel, pranced near Quentin in case he needed any little thing. Camera spotlights hit him, blinding at this late hour. Hotel security appeared from the shadows, Quyth Warriors that pushed the photographers out of the way, blocking their shots.
The hotel’s front door opened. The spotlights flared anew, making Somalia Midori practically glow. She strode out, wearing a breathtaking dress that was more see-through than anything else. So much skin. Quentin felt himself blush a little. She had done her hair differently this time. It hung down the left side of her head, long and flowing like that of some movie star. The right side, of course, was still a clean-shaven blue.
She walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. It surprised him at first, but then the warmth of her mouth sank in. He closed his eyes and put his hands gently on her hips.
Most of his thoughts were lost in the kiss, but he was still cognizant enough to know that all the spotlights were on them, along with a rapid flashing of still cameras. It was like they were on display.
He pulled back. “Uh, ready to go?”
Her smile seemed brighter than all the lights combined. “Yes and I’m starving.”
He moved to hold the door for her before he realized the limo driver was already doing that. Quentin stood aside and let Somalia enter, then followed her inside. The door shut, leaving them alone. Quentin waited until the limo pulled away before talking.
“How do those photographers know where you are?”
She shrugged. “It’s never a secret where I’m staying when I’m on tour.”
“And do you get that kind of attention every time you leave a hotel?”
“Not as much,” she said. “But when I leave with a star quarterback? Yeah, they come out of the shadows for that.”
So beautiful. So sexy. Quentin still had a hard time believing this was actually happening to him. “How long are you here for?”
“Four nights. Tonight is my only night off, then three shows in a row.”
“So, you’re leaving Sunday? I play that day, home game against Coranadillana.”
She laughed and slid her right arm through Quentin’s left, pulling him closer. “Yeah, Sugar, I know you have a big game. But I have to fly out that morning for Whitok. Believe me, the paparazzi would go crazy if they saw me kissing you in your armor after you’re all beat-up from a game.”
“Why would you want to kiss me then? I’d be all smelly and dirty and bloody.”
Her lips twisted into her sneer-smile, the one that made his face feel all hot. “Yeah. Why would I want you then?”
The limo eased to a stop. Quentin looked outside, saw the restaurant through the fog. “We’re here. This is the place you wanted to eat, right?”
She leaned across him to look out the window, her perfumed hair close to his face.
“Torba the Hungry’s,” she said. “So nice of you to get us a table. I hear only the upper crust eats here, Quentin.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I asked Messal to get us a table.”
The limo door opened. Quentin got out first, then reached a hand back to help Somalia. Yitzhak had told him that was the polite thing to do for a woman. Somalia slid out of the limo with a sexy athleticism. Quentin wondered if she’d ever played sports. Basketball, maybe. She stood and immediately slid her arm through Quentin’s, just before the camera-flash assault fired up again. The press had been waiting for them. How did they know he and Somalia would be there? Through the annoying lights, Quentin recognized the faces of a few of Gredok’s goons. Messal had also apparently taken care of security.
Cameras blazing, Quentin and his date walked into Torba the Hungry’s.
• • •
“QUENTIN?”
He heard his name, called by some faraway voice. A pretty voice, but distant.
Something touched his hand and his eyes snapped open. That brief disorientation again, but it evaporated immediately. He looked around, saw the opulent interior of Torba the Hungry’s — then his eyes settled on the quizzical smile of Somalia Midori.
“Am I boring you, Sugar?”
Realization hit home. “Oh, High One ... did I fall asleep?”
She nodded.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! No, you’re not boring, it’s just that I’m so exhausted from practice, the trip back from Yall and studying for the Cloud Killers game. And the media hounds me everywhere I go.”
She stroked his hand. “It’s okay, I know all about exhaustion. Try four shows in two days on for size and you’ll understand I know where you’re coming from.”
Her smile wasn’t condescending. She did know where he was coming from. She got him in so many ways. She pulled his hand closer, held it with both of hers. Her blue skin felt so warm. “You don’t do stims, do you? To fight off the tired?”
He shook his head. “I never take drugs. You?”
She shrugged. “There’s a lot of drugs in my business. Pyuli, mesh, heroin, that kind of thing. Wipes people out. Turns them into shells.”
“Do you do any drugs?”
“Hell no,” she said. “I’ve got a career, I’ve got goals. I want to get into holos.”
“You? A movie star? Aren’t you a little ... I don’t know ... rough for that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Quentin, join the modern galaxy, will ya? A
sentient’s image can be changed at will. We’re a hot band now, but that won’t last forever. I have to think about the next step, about what I’ll do when people stop playing our songs.”
Quentin let out a huff. As if anyone could ever stop listening to Trench Warfare songs.
She stroked his hand slowly. He felt hot in his face, his chest.
“Listen, Quentin, how about when you take me back to the hotel, you come on up to my room.”
Not a question. More like a statement. Possibly even a command. Her lip curled into that mesmerizing sneer again — not one of arrogance, but one of mischief, of fun.
One of sex.
“Oh,” Quentin said. “Ummm ... oh.”
“I like you,” she said. “I know you’re tired, but I’m pretty sure I can keep you awake. Unless you already have company planned for tonight?”
“No. Uh, no, no company. But, that’s not ... I mean, we’re not married.”
Her eyebrows shot up. She laughed. “No, Sugar-Sugar, we’re not married, but we don’t have to be.”
Quentin gently pulled his hand back. “I do.”
Somalia leaned forward, her eyes alive, hungry. “Quentin Barnes, are you a virgin?”
He felt his face get hot again, but not from excitement. Why was he embarrassed by this?
Somalia looked around the room as if they were sharing some dirty secret, then she leaned in even closer. “Wow. I just never thought that.”
“Well, I am.”
“But why?”
Hadn’t he just told her? “What do you mean, why?”
“Look at you,” she said. “You’re young, gorgeous, strong, kind — every girl’s dream. Didn’t women throw themselves at you back home?”
He shrugged. “That’s not really what girls do back on Micovi. But sometimes, yeah, women made their intentions known.”
Somalia laughed. “Sorry, I’m not making fun of you, it’s just so ... quaint. Made their intentions known. I didn’t think people talked like that anymore.”
“Well, I do.”