Don’t panic, breath, breath, it’s almost here…
He felt the shimmer come, felt, not saw, because he couldn’t bear to have his eyes open and see the reality wave lightly caress the ship and everything in it. And once again, nothing happened.
His held breath slipped out of his tense body, the tinge of horror clinging to his soul. He’d come to accept the fact that if he wanted his dream of glory and a GFL championship, he’d just have to ignore his fear of flying.
He felt the slight tug of the Touchback’s main engines kicking in, maneuvering the ship into orbit. Quentin moved to his view port and looked out onto the glowing red sphere that was Ionath, planet of Ionath City, the home of the Ionath Krakens.
He’d learned all about Ionath in school. In 2558, During the Third Galactic War, the Sklorno navy saturation-bombed the planet, rendering it a radioactive wasteland completely devoid of all life. That bombing was proof, the Holy Men liked to say, of the Sklorno’s Satanic nature. It also proved that the Prawatt race, who had inhabited the planet, were also Satanic, and suffered the wrath of the High One for their evil ways. Quentin had been only nine when he noticed a pattern — just about everything bad that happened to other races or cultures was proof of Satanic tendencies. The only people who didn’t suffer Satanic-related incidents were, coincidentally, the people of the Purist Nation.
But despite the bombing (or perhaps despite Satan), Ionath had not remained devoid of life. In 2573, the Quyth shocked the galaxy by establishing a permanent colony on the planet. In the 110 Earth-years that followed, the colony grew to a population of 500 million Quyth. In addition, the Quyth introduced flora and fauna that not only ignored radiation, but often used it in place of sunlight to capture energy. In just over a century, the Quyth transformed Ionath from a lifeless orb into a flourishing, growing, vibrant planet. The Holy Men cited this as proof of the Quyth’s Satanic nature, for only a being from Hell could live on Hell itself.
While the Quyth flourished on Ionath, the radiation hadn’t just gone away, and other sentient races could not survive on the planet’s surface. The Quyth wanted commerce with other species, so Ionath — like the other irradiated planets of Whitok and Chik-chik — had several domed cities free of radiation. The domed areas acted as a downtown, a central hub of the non-protected areas. Ionath City boasted the largest rad-free dome on the planet. About 110,000 sentients lived inside the four-mile diameter dome, while another 4.1 million Quyth lived outside. The football stadium, of course, sat inside the dome.
Ionath Stadium was also known as “The Big Eye.” Quentin had dreamed of playing in such a place. Seating capacity: 185,000. An open-air stadium, but since it existed under the city dome the weather never changed — it was always 85 degrees Farenheit, the galaxy-accepted standard for multi-race environments. Eighty-five seemed hot to most Humans, a bit cool for Ki, borderline cold for Sklorno and Creterakians, and ideal for Quyth. In the past, when the Krakens were a running team, rumor had it that for critical games the temperature system of the Ionath City dome would often “malfunction,” dropping the temp to 75 degrees or below, a level more suited to Human running backs.
His game was improving, but he’d been less than impressive during his four days with the team. He’d never even considered that he’d have such a hard time adjusting. They had two more days of practice, then the season opener against the Woo Wallcrawlers. And the second of those two days was a non-contact practice, a pre-game run through.
That meant he really only had one more day to convince Hokor that he was ready to play Tier Two ball. But was he ready? Pine made everything look so easy, so smooth, and that only magnified Quentin’s constant struggles. But if Pine could do it, Quentin could do it.
Mind games from Hokor. That’s what all this crap was. Learn every opposing player, their stats, their history, run laps… a bunch of busy work designed to show Quentin who was boss. Well, Quentin had broken Coach Graber, and Hokor would be no different. Yet, in the back of his mind, Quentin wondered if Hokor was different from Coach Graber. Hokor acted like he’d be perfectly willing to put Quentin on the next shuttle back to the Purist Nation. Was that just an act?
Quentin wasn’t sure, and that gave him an uneasy feeling he’d never experienced before. He slid out of bed and started stretching. Today’s practice would be very important, and he wanted to be ready.
THE ENTIRE TEAM assembled in the landing bay in a big half-circle around Gredok and Hokor. As usual, players mostly grouped with their own species. Quentin stood with Warburg and Yassoud. Pine, as Quentin had come to expect, stood with one of the alien races, this time the Ki linemen.
“We will now be taking shuttles down to our facility on Ionath City,” Gredok said. “Most of you know the drill. The shuttle will make four runs, veterans go down in the first two runs, then free agents new to the team, and finally rookies.”
“After practice, my workers will show you to your apartments, which have already been assigned. All apartments are close to the stadium. The dome is a reasonably safe area, and as Krakens players you will usually be awarded respect. However, Ionath City is not a vacation resort, so be careful. You are responsible for your body, and care for any injuries sustained while not on the practice or playing field will be docked from your pay. Especially you, Yassoud.”
Yassoud looked as if his best friend had insulted his mother. “Me? Why would you say that?”
Gredok’s pedipalps twitched once. “I’ve read your record, Yassoud. More tavern-fight arrests than some of my low-level enforcers. If you insist on causing problems, you should pray that the police put you in jail instead of bringing you back to me. Understand?”
For once, Yassoud said nothing, simply nodded instead.
“And as for you, Mum-O-Killowe,” Gredok said, “I will be more than happy to send you home in a body bag if you act as you have when you played in the Sklorno leagues.”
Shizzle appeared as if from nowhere, swooped over to Mum-O-Killowe and provided a quick translation. Mum-O-Killowe started saying something in his loud, harsh way, but before he managed a couple of syllables another Ki lineman reached out with a long arm and flicked him in the vocal tubes. Quentin recognized the flick-er as Mai-An-Ihkole, the veteran defensive tackle. Mum-O-Killowe looked offended, as near as Quentin could read Ki emotion. The rookie lineman fell silent.
“That is all,” Gredok said. “The veterans will now board for the first run to Ionath City.”
Veterans, including Pine, entered the shuttle as the rest of the team dispersed.
“What was that all about?” Quentin asked Yassoud. “You a trouble maker or something?”
Yassoud shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I’ve never caused a problem in my life.”
“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” Warburg said, looking down at the smaller Yassoud. “Just don’t hang out with him in the city, Quentin. We don’t need his influence to lead us astray.”
Yassoud put a hand to his chest. “You offend me, sir. I would never think to corrupt a pious member of the Church.” He walked off, shaking his head in disbelief as if he’d been greatly misjudged.
Two Sklorno — Denver and Milford — approached. Warburg’s demeanor instantly changed from doubt to intimidation, if not outright hostility. Denver’s raspers dragged along the floor, actually leaving a thin trail of saliva on the flight deck. Her transparent carapace was so disconcerting — Quentin could actually see blood coursing through her veins, X-ray gray blurred by the clear chitin’s X-Ray white. Quentin felt a small shiver of disgust ripple down his spine.