Andrew broke his concentration. “How is forty percent interesting?”
“If you lose, or if the Premiers lose, I take the forty percent. If you make sure we beat the Unrepresented, I’ll take the thirty-three percent. No agent fee, like I said. It’s important we show these people that it takes both fire and technique to win. Flashy gimmicks will never last in this business.”
Andrew put his hands on the table. “Then we have a deal. We won’t lose, Barton. I will make sure of that myself. And before you ask, I’ll train with the Premiers. I’ll field the best three.”
“Poor Niko Black.” Barton shook his head. “He won’t make the cut, not with what the other Premiers can do. I’m thinking Timothy, Marjory, and Henry. Seo-yun is still recovering for that whole unwise cusp business. And Diana needs to be punished.”
“I agree with everything you just said,” Andrew said.
“That’s the right answer.” Barton laughed and again looked at his phone, for a bit too long, an impolite length of time. To show he still had the power in the relationship. “That’ll always be the right answer. We have about two months, a little over, before the next BCBA. Plenty of time to get our ducks in a row, get some promotional stuff out there, and for you to take a more active role with the Premiers.”
“Right.”
Barton put down his phone. “You’re going to do Fright Night, is that correct?”
Fright Night was on Halloween, and it was an important event, not specifically for the LBA, but it had become a yearly, high-profile event. A lot of grudges were fought out at Fright Night, and it was at a big venue, in the Bay City Stadium, right on the water.
“I’m scheduled. I don’t have an opponent yet. I was hoping to talk with LJ Crown’s people.” It was risky, but with the cambion and Dr. Wolfe’s sorcery in his pocket, Andrew would have a real chance against the superstar.
Barton shook his head. “You can’t beat LJ Crown.”
It was a punch to the gut. Andrew wanted to throw his glass of water into Barton’s face.
Barton wasn’t the most self-aware man, but he knew he had to backtrack. “Not what I meant. I just don’t think we can get him. He’s riding a tide of popularity. Once that ends, which it will, we can talk. No, I have some ideas. I’m glad you’re doing Fright Night. It doesn’t affect your LBA standings, and it’s good publicity. People love to dress up. It’s like the whole cosplay craze.”
Andrew wasn’t going to correct him. For most, cosplay wasn’t a craze, but a way of life.
“Fright Night is important.” Barton caught their server’s attention and raised a finger. “If you make a big splash there, we might be able to swing a movie deal for you. We both want that.”
“We do.” Andrew let Barton pay—he liked the idea the agent wanted to keep him happy. The September BCBA match wouldn’t be hard. It was money in the bag.
As for Fright Night? Andrew wasn’t going to give up on fighting LJ Crown. It would either save his career or end it.
The Choice
NIKO WAS PACKED, READY to bike to the train station to take the long trip to Bay City to spar with the Premiers. One problem. The damn printer wouldn’t spark up. It was connected to their best PC, which had an AMD chipset he’d overclocked himself.
He sat in the back office, surrounded by papers, computers, and other electronics. He sighed. The damn printer should work. It was clearly connected to the PC. However, it wouldn’t spool. He checked the drode for the millionth time. It was fine. Only one thing to do. Replace it with another level-one drode. It was a twenty-minute job. He had exactly twenty minutes. That was fine, as long as nothing went wrong.
He got the drode out, slipped it into a tiny thumb drive, and set it aside. He could dispose of it later. Most likely, something was wrong with the daemon, so he wasn’t about to try and cycle it.
He got the new drode into the printer, it fired up, and he printed out a test page. Perfect. He could leave.
He got on his bike and rode it around to the front of the strip mall. Mamo was sweeping out front, her window washing supplies in a bucket next to her. Niko biked up to her. “Teddy is ready for calls. He has his sister’s car, and he can drive over here to pick up the Pig.”
Mamo leaned on her broom. She could’ve been in a painting of a nineteenth-century Polish peasant. Her face was bright red from the heat. And she wore a dress. Grease from the Noodle House hung in the air, along with the smells of the traffic, drodes, and the hot pavement out front.
“Peter is through. Even when he helps, he is not really helping. Teddy is temporary. It is just us three, Niko. You, me, Tato.” A frown cut down her face. Her eyes were dull.
“I know. I can make it work.”
“Not three nights a week. Tato thinks you should quit this business with the Sages people. Always, it has been your dream to have an agent, to practice the Arts for real, with a real team, for money.” Mamo watched his face.
Niko didn’t show his indecision. Anger melted his belly. He didn’t show that either. He knew Mamo was checking in, to make sure his commitment to his family was strong, stronger than his desire to fight. No wonder he had walked away from the Arts after his accident. The one time he chose himself over the business, he’d ended up fracturing his core.
His parents still didn’t know the truth. He’d tossed it off as a bad tincture, which neither of his parents really believed. In the end, though, they got what they wanted. He’d dropped everything, college included, to work at the Fix-It Shoppe full time.
“Teddy is covering me.” Niko kept his voice low. Otherwise, he’d be yelling.
“We have to pay Teddy.”
“It comes out of my salary.” That was a joke. Their money was so intermingled, and their profits were so low, he rarely got paid.
“You are going to have to choose,” Mamo said. “You can’t do both. And one night a week is easier than two. Or three. The Sages sometimes meet on Friday, don’t they?”
His mother was also so sharp. It was probably why the family business was still afloat.
“I know. I’m leaving. I’ll choose.” Niko biked off, so divided, he couldn’t even begin to clear his mind. He was still chewing on the decision when he arrived at the gates of the Premiers’ Battle Arena outside the warehouse near Pier 39.
He walked onto the tiles. They were all there, Timothy, Marjory, Diana, Henry, and Seo-yun. And Andrew J. Coffey, in his Artist’s robes, his arms crossed.
“Good, you’re here,” Andrew said. “So, at the next BCBA Con, we’re going to field a Triumvirate, Agented Artists versus the Unrepresented. All of our careers are riding on this.”
Niko walked to join his critique partners. Not friends. Seo-yun had made that clear.
Andrew explained the situation. He and some other high-level Artists would be going up against Unrepresented from Sierra City. The Premiers would be going up against the Sages.
“Triumvirate,” Andrew said. “I’m going to be here, every week, to pick the top three. I figure we can do matches to see who gets the honor.”
“Marjory shouldn’t be in the running.” Timothy didn’t look at the woman. “She’s already agented. She’s already fought. And it can’t be Niko. He’s new. So basically, we only need to drop one person. Diana is clearly the choice. Me, Henry, and Seo-yun, we can beat anyone unrepresented.”
Diana colored but didn’t protest.
Marjory had that handled. “And how do you think that’s fair? No, we should fight each other for the honor. I am not giving this up, Timothy. I’m sorry you weren’t chosen. In the end, I couldn’t care less. I want this.”
“That’s clear,” Niko couldn’t hold the words in.
No one even looked at him.
Andrew scowled at them all. “The Battle Arts are all about constant competition. There are no guarantees. The best win. The best get agents. The best get contracts. Whoever is the best will fight in September.”
“If your technique is flawless,” Niko said loudly.
“And all the rest. That’s what you and Barton say all the time, right?”
Andrew approached him, head held high. “That’s right. Do you have a problem with any of that, Niko?”
Niko stepped forward. “The Battle Arts are about competition, but not against an opponent. The only opponent that matters is one’s self.” It was a badly quoted passage from The Pranad.
Andrew laughed sharply. “Don’t quote scripture at me, Niko. If you don’t like how we run things, you can leave. There are a hundred Artists around to take your place.”
“Five hundred at least,” Timothy added.
“You make us fight each other, when we should be supporting each other. We can’t be friends, and so I have to hang out with my goddamn enemies each week.” Niko didn’t mean to curse. But the conversation with his mother still ate at him. And this whole situation was so different than the Sages. It sickened him.
“There are no friends in a Battle Arena.” Andrew’s gaze was steaming. “If you want friends, you have six other nights to hang out with them.”
Niko thought of Bonnie and Teddy. He’d rather spend time with them than any of these people. Henry had seemed nice and supportive at first, but that warmth had faded.
It was Henry who stepped up. “Come on, Niko. We’ve all worked hard to get here. Don’t say something you’ll regret.”
That was just it. Niko had regretted so much of his life. And this damn group was testing him like nothing else. He was only a Mars Belt. He should be humble, accept all these opportunities with gratitude, and keep his mouth shut.
That wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t respond to Henry but kept his eyes on Andrew. “Actually, I only have four nights a week. And actually, I don’t even have that. You see, I’ve been training with the Sages of the Underpass. And they’re doing unbelievable things. Maybe it’s because they have each other’s backs, and they don’t have to worry about anyone stabbing them to get one more worthless opportunity.”
Worthless. Bonnie’s words. Without worth.
That silenced his critique partners. Andrew sneered at him. “So, you think this is worthless? I went out on a limb for you, Niko. Barton was done with you. It was me. I got you in here. And now you’re going to throw it all away? For what?”
The truth settled into Niko’s gut. “For the Arts, Andrew. It seems to me, you’ve all forgotten your most basic lessons from The Pranad. Then again, The Pranad warns against pride, greed, lust, and all the rest of the seven deadly sins. You’ve embraced them, it seems. For the money. For the fame. For some bullshit dream of being the best, even if you have to climb over the bodies of your friends to get it.” He was sweating, and anger swirled through him, but he knew there was only one real option. “I’m going to fight for the Sages. We’ll see if your flawless techniques hold up in the Arena.”
“There’s the door, asshole,” Andrew cursed and pointed.
Niko laughed. “That’s very serene of you, Mr. Coffey. Sure. I’ll be the asshole.” He hadn’t even dropped his backpack. It would make his exit more graceful. He walked to the door and turned around. He wanted to say one more thing, but everyone was already so upset. It showed on their faces. If he closed his eyes, he could sense that turmoil in their cores.
He then did something that surprised himself. He knelt on both knees and bowed. “Thank you, esteemed Artists, for giving me a powerful lesson. You have my gratitude. I will see you in the ring.”
“Just leave already,” Timothy spat.
Niko rose. And did exactly what he was told.
Before he did, he saw the admiration on Seo-yun’s face. And Henry smiled at him. Diana looked down, doubt on her face. Andrew, Timothy, and Marjory, they only had their glares.
Niko biked slowly back to the train; a huge weight was lifted off his back. He felt free. He felt right. Was this how surrendering felt? If so, he planned on doing it a lot more.
On the train, he texted both Teddy and Bonnie, asking them to meet him for noodles. He wanted to celebrate. When both responded, he relaxed. It was going to be a good night after all.
Sitting at an outside table, under the eaves of the Happy Noodle, he looked at Teddy and Bonnie. “I quit the Premiers tonight.”
Teddy shot a glance at Bonnie. “Hey, new girl, how much does that mean to you?” It was a pointed question, and Teddy didn’t look comfortable. He wasn’t eating his noodles with his usual gusto.
Bonnie smiled at him. “Well, Ted, this certainly is interesting. But I want to hear what this means to Niko.”
“It’s Teddy. As in the bear.” Teddy returned to his noodles. “Well, Niko, she put you on the spot. We’re listening.”
Niko didn’t like how his oldest friend and newest girlfriend weren’t exactly meshing. “I’m feeling good about quitting, mostly. But there’s no way Barton Hennessey is ever going to consider me again. I burned a bridge tonight. You’re not supposed to do that in this business.”
“Burning bridges will keep you warm,” Bonnie said. “At least for a while.”
That made Teddy laugh.
She continued. “Times are changing, across all industries. You’re right. You could’ve made a more graceful exit. But you needed to exit. You needed to choose.”
“How was it when you chose?” Niko asked.
Bonnie turned to Teddy. “I’m going to say a name. Before I do, I want to bet you ten dollars whether you have ever heard the name before. If you know it, I’ll give you a sawbuck. If you don’t, you owe me.”
Teddy blinked in surprise. “Come again?”
“Just bet her,” Niko said. “I can cover the bet for you.”
“You don’t exactly have the money.” Teddy grinned. “You’re behind on paying me for my on-call hours. But sure, I’ll play. It’s a famous name, right?”
Bonnie flipped the bangs of her Mohawk out of her face. “Famousish. It’s fifty-fifty whether you know it or not. Bonnie Taylor. Do you know it?”
Teddy’s eyes went from blinking to staring wide. “My little sister loves Bonnie Taylor. She still plays her songs. It’s way too poppy for me. I think she has a poster in her room. Pink hair. Lots of lip gloss.”
“Gloss the color of bubble gum.” Bonnie laughed and knocked Teddy with an elbow. “That was me. I was on my way to fame and fortune, again, the color of bubble gum.”
“I have to get your autograph,” Teddy said. “Make it out to Maricel. She’s going to die.”
“Screw that. I’ll give your sister a free concert, in private. I still know all the words. There weren’t that many, and none of them mattered much.” Bonnie smiled at Niko. “It was easy to walk away from Bonnie Taylor, Niko. I was being starved to death. And it never felt right. Did leaving the Premiers feel right?”
“Yes. I surrendered. I’ve been fighting all the wrong battles recently.” Niko paused. “But there’s no turning back from being Unrepresented. I’m gambling everything on the Sages.”
Both Teddy and Bonnie tried to talk at the same time.
Teddy made a gesture. “You go. Ladies first.”
She shook her head. “You have Nikodemus Kowalczyk seniority. Best friends first.”
Teddy frowned, eyes wide, head nodding. “I’m liking this one, Niko.”
“This one?” Bonnie laughed. “How many were there? Are there? Will there be?”
“Legions.” Teddy grinned. “Well, only the one, but she was a doozy. Taylor Sebastian. But Niko didn’t talk about her, did he?”
“Nope.” Bonnie poured them all more tea. “Tell me about Taylor Sebastian.”
“That is not going to happen,” Niko said. “Never.”
Bonnie stared at him. “I don’t like words like never, always, or forever. And now I’m not sure I want to know.”
Teddy saved him. “Niko will eventually. Long story short, he dropped me. I’ve forgiven him. But those were dark times. Dark ages.”
“A long time ago.” Niko lifted the tea and sipped it.
“Anyway,” Teddy said, “I was
going to tell our young Battle Artist that there are many paths to success. Yes, he burned a bridge, he can roast marshmallows over it, but he doesn’t know what the future holds. I was on the LBA website today, and there was an Unrepresented Artist in Kansas that just signed on with Rocks & Rams unagented. Another Unrepresented fighter in Maine just signed with a big-time New England agent after winning match after match. We don’t know what is going to happen. Your turn, new girl.”
“Bonnie. Or Ms. Crude, Teddy. As in the punk rocker. You’ll have to bring your sister to a show. I sometimes play all-ages shows. I change all the f-words to frick.”
Teddy raised his cup to her. “She’d love it. But what were you going to say?”
“Our young Battle Artist needs to define success for himself.” She put a hand on her chest. “I define success one new fan at a time. The minute I get a new like on my So-Me page, I’m a success. When I do a good show with my band, that’s a success. Yes, my successes are tiny, but I try and celebrate every single one of them. I don’t measure it in money or adulation anymore. So, Niko, what does your success look like?”
He didn’t have an answer. Most of the time, it was about money. If he could support himself and his family, he’d count himself successful. Winning meant a lot to him and his Tato, but Mamo only thought in numbers.
Teddy answered for him. “Niko wants the Hall of Fame. He wants to be remembered. He wants to be a legend.”
Bonnie winced. “Ouch. That bad, huh?”
“Worse than you can ever imagine.” Teddy got serious about his noodles. Niko was glad to see it.
“I had the Hall of Fame in my sights for several long, painful minutes,” Bonnie said. “It’s not worth the stress and agony, but you’ll have to experience that yourself. I will say this—the path to legendary status rests on one boring stone at a time. For me, it’s one song at a time. Some days the songs are awesome, and sometimes they suck, but it’s one song at a time.”
Sages of the Underpass Page 23