The Starter (52 page)

The Krakens players surrounded Ju, filling the central locker room with shouts, clacks, grunts, and laughter. The team was still in last place at 2-and-4, but were just a half-game behind the Yall Criminals. Six games left in the season. If they won half of those, the possibility of staying in Tier One seemed very real.

Players congratulated Ju, welcomed him to the team all over again, happy to give him a slap on the shoulder pads, a handshake, a friendly push. He was the final piece of the offensive puzzle and everyone knew it.

Everyone; except Yassoud Murphy.

Yassoud looked at the celebration. The bearded man wore his emotions on his sleeve, and in that moment it was plain that he wanted to be Ju Tweedy so bad it might as well have been a holo-sign floating above his head. Yassoud looked down and shuffled into the Human locker room.

John Tweedy stood at the edge of the central locker room, leaning his back against a wall, his helmet dangling from his fingers by its facemask. His sweaty, clumpy hair stood up in all directions. A steady rivulet of blood drained from his broken nose, out of his left nostril at an angle that curled just past the left corner of his mouth, down his chin to drip-drip-drip on his already-stained jersey. He hadn’t bothered to stop the bleeding. Quentin wasn’t sure if John even
knew
he was bleeding.

Quentin walked up to him, raised his fist and brought it down on John’s shoulder pads.

“Uncle Johnny, what’s up? Didn’t you get the memo?”

“What memo?” John said quietly.

“The one that said
Krakens win
. Because we did win, you know.”

John looked at Quentin and forced a weak smile. “Yeah, we won. That’s good, I’ve just got other things on my mind.”

John looked back to the circle of players still celebrating with Ju.

Quentin wasn’t sure what to say. John had put in a monster of a game — five solo tackles, four more assists, a sack and an interception. He should have been dancing on benches and offending people with creative forehead tattoos.

“John, what’s the matter? You were all fired up for your brother before, and
we won
. So why aren’t you happy?”

John shrugged. “I am. It’s just... well, Ju is being a good boy now because he just got here. We had to go get him and all, no choice there, but...”

“But what?”

John wiped the back of his left hand across his broken nose, saw the blood smearing his knuckles. He grunted with mild surprise, then looked at Quentin, blood still smeared across his nose, lip, and cheek.

“Just that a tiger can’t change its spots,” he said. “I love my brother, but he’s a real jackass. I just hope he doesn’t show his true colors until after the season.”

John walked to the Human locker room, leaving Quentin to stare at the Ju Tweedy Fan Club and wonder how John could be so jealous of his brother that he didn’t appreciate a hard-won victory.

GFL WEEK SEVEN ROUNDUP

(Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network)

A last-second field goal by kicker Howard Dinatale gave New Rodina (5-1) a 35-34 win over the Bartel Water Bugs (2-4), keeping the Astronauts tied for first place in the Solar with the Bord Brigands. The Brigands outlasted the D’Kow War Dogs (4-3) in a 17-15 nail-biter. This turn of events sets up a crucial first-place showdown next week, as the Brigands host the Astronauts.

In the Planet Division, the To Pirates stopped their two-game skid with a 54-0 devastation of the Chillich Spider-Bears (0-6). The win moved the Pirates back into first thanks to the Ice Storm (4-2) dropping 24-17 to the Wabash Wolfpack. Isis and Wabash are now tied for second with the Mars Planets, who had a bye.

Deaths

No deaths reported this week.

Offensive Player of the Week

Ionath quarterback
Quentin Barnes
, who went 15-of-20 for 235 yards and three touchdowns.

Defensive Player of the Week

To Pirates linebacker
Richard Damge
, who had four solo tackles, five assists, a sack and and a fumble recovery against Chillich.

PLANET DIVISION

5-2 To Pirates

4-2 Isis Ice Storm

4-2 Wabash Wolfpack

4-2 Mars Planets (bye)

3-3 Alimum Armada

3-3 Coranadillana Cloud Killers

3-3 Hittoni Hullwalkers

3-3 Lu Juggernauts

3-3 Themala Dreadnaughts (bye)

3-4 Yall Criminals

2-4 Ionath Krakens

SOLAR DIVISION

5-1 New Rodina Astronauts

5-1 Bord Brigands

4-2 Neptune Scarlet Fliers (bye)

4-2 Jupiter Jacks

4-3 D’Kow War Dogs

3-4 Sala Intrigue

2-4 Shorah Warlords

2-4 Bartel Water Bugs

1-5 Jang Atom Smashers (bye)

1-5 Vik Vanguard

0-6 Chillich Spider-Bears

QUENTIN SURVEYED
the holographic teams. His computer-generated Krakens offensive line squared up against the computer-generated Alimum Armada defense. The Armada had to have the ugliest, corniest uniforms in the GFL. Navy blue with three parallel coils of gold braid stitched around the sleeves. Thin, turquoise numbers trimmed in equal widths of green, royal blue, and white, finished off with more gold braid. White helmets carried the Armada logo on each side: a blue and green anchor trimmed in black, set in a white circle surrounded with a turquoise circle of flame. The uniforms were supposed to resemble sailor outfits from some long-lost Earth military. Yet another Sklorno misinterpretation of the history of the birthplace of football.

The holographic stadium painted the picture of a football-crazed environment. Alimum’s dark-green-lined turquoise turf was much-loved and much-hated throughout the league. The mostly turquoise-clad crowd waved white flags decorated with the Armada’s anchor logo. Past the goalpost, Quentin could see a crysteel-encased end zone packed with madly jumping balls of black fur — male Sklorno, also known as “bedbugs.” Watching the female Sklorno play football on the field aroused the males to the point where they had no self-control and had to be segregated from the females.

The holographic defensive line and linebackers wore those hideous Armada uniforms, but the cornerbacks were real Sklorno that wore Krakens practice blacks.

Real receivers in practice whites complemented Quentin’s holographic offensive line. On the left, Milford lined up wide, covered by cornerback Perth. Halawa was wide right, squaring off against her twin sister, the cornerback Wahiawa.

“Hut-
hut
.”

Quentin slapped the ball in his hands and dropped back five steps. Milford and Halawa shot down their respective sidelines, well covered by the corners. Quentin paused a second, then launched a long, arcing pass. The holographic Alimum crowd roared as the ball spiraled downfield. Halawa went up for the catch. Wahiawa jumped as well, but she was just a fraction of a second behind and she knew it — her tentacles ripped down on Halawa’s in a blatant case of pass interference. Despite the rough handling, Halawa fought a single tentacle free. Nearly horizontal, falling back the turf with three hundred pounds of defensive back pulling her down, Halawa hauled in the pass one-tentacled before she and her sister smashed into the ground.

Quentin sucked in a quick hiss of air and couldn’t suppress a giggle that made him sound like a little boy hiding in a grown man’s body. Damn, Halawa’s potential seemed limitless.

The clapping of a pair of Human hands cut through the computer-generated crowd. Quentin turned to see a smiling, clapping Ju Tweedy, dressed in street clothes and walking into the VR room.

“Heck of a catch,” Ju said. “
Heck
of a catch.”

“Simulation off,” Quentin said. The illusion of Alimum Stadium flickered, then vanished. “Hey there, Ju.”

“They told me you’d be here, but I didn’t believe them. I mean, we just had practice as a team, and you’re in here for more?”

“That’s right,” Quentin said. “That’s how we get better. I’d like to see you join us.”

Ju laughed. “Practice? What are we talkin’ about, man...
practice?
Not a game, not a game... we talkin’ about practice? I save it for the games, Q.”

Quentin didn’t like that attitude, but nodded anyway. After Ju’s performance against the Juggernauts, Quentin was willing to go with whatever the man said. “Fair enough. Then what are you doing here?”

“I was hoping to have a word with you. In private.” Ju reached into his pockets and pulled out two cans of Miller lager. “My brother tells me this is your favorite?”

Quentin smiled. “Yeah, cool. Ladies, practice is over. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Milford and Perth shot out of the room, almost running Ju over. Halawa and Wahiawa always waited for each other, so they were a step behind.

“Halawa,” Quentin said, stopping the sisters in their tracks. “That kind of effort is what I want to see. Keep it up, and there’s a bigger role for you to play.”

She shivered, just once, then turned and ran out of the VR room with her sister right behind. As soon as she left, Quentin realized he’d done that only in part to motivate Halawa. He’d also done it to impress Ju Tweedy.

Ju watched the sisters go, then tossed Quentin a beer.

“Thanks.” Quentin popped the mag-can’s top. “So, what’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the future of the team.”

“We’re rolling,” Quentin said. “That win against the Juggernauts, that was huge.”

Ju nodded, sipped his beer. “True, true.”

“We’ve got a running game now. I think that’s what we were missing.”

Ju smiled and gave a theatrical bow. “Why thank you, Quentin, I do what I can. But it’s not just the running game. The offensive line is going to gel with Kimberlin, and you’re going to have grade-A protection. I know Scarborough is gone, but I think Halawa is the real deal.”

Quentin half-raised his beer in salute. “High One willing, she could really be something.”

“Want my opinion, Q?”

“Isn’t that what you came here to give me?”

Ju smiled. “You’re not much for small talk, are you?”

Quentin just took another sip.

“I think this is the beginning of a championship team,” Ju said. “I think the offensive pieces are in place. If Gredok and Hokor bolster the defense in the off-season, I think it could happen.”

Quentin nodded.

“
Could
happen,” Ju said. “That is, with the right leadership.”

The words were polite, but clearly a challenge — a challenge to Quentin’s authority. Quentin felt his anger rising. “What are you saying, Ju?”

“I’m saying I’m used to being in charge.”

“Excuse me?”

“In charge,” Ju said. “I was the team captain of the Orbiting Death. I’m
always
the team captain. When I play on a team, it’s my team. Like how the Krakens are your team now.”

Quentin felt a coldness creeping up his arms, a trail of goosebumps marking its path. “That’s right, Ju. The Krakens are my team.”

“
Your
team is a losing one. I show up for one game, we win. Maybe you’re not the right leader to take this franchise to the top. Maybe the team needs a change.”