W. Thompson - Touchdown, Touchdown, Rah, Rah, Rah!

Elizabeth came down the stairs then and sat down next to him. “Trouble?”

“No more than usual.” Ray rubbed his temples. “Faber’s the jackass who poisoned everyone. He thought it was great joke. Now he’s in jail and out of Vrekle.”

“Damn.” She started massaging his shoulders. “If he had half the brains God gave any self-respecting skunk, he’d be twice as smart as he is. What will you do now?”

“I just told McIlvaine that I’d try to get another human student to take Faber’s place. He agreed to try that, so the contract lives. The question is, can we put one of the other students on the team? Will any of them recover in time?”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “The doctor says they’re all going to be bedridden for several days, and shaky for another week.”

“Damn.” Ray saw the obvious solution to his problem. “How about you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re a student in good academic standing. That’s supposed to be the only qualification for joining the team.”

“You’re crazy,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve never played bagdrag in my life. Plus, I have about as much coordination as a Democratic presidential campaign, and if I gain ten more pounds, I’ll qualify as a ninety-seven pound weakling.”

“You don’t need muscle to play an outrunner position,” Ray said. “They don’t do anything more than run around. If—”

“Not now,” she said.

“All right.” Ray’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten lately. “Have the kya invented takeout yet, or are we going to have to cook our own dinner?”

Ray woke up on the couch, alone. Elizabeth had gone to her room alone late last night, and Ray hadn’t wanted to push his luck. He hoped that suggesting that she play bagdrag hadn’t done something fatal to his long-range plans with her.

A rasping noise reminded him he wasn’t alone after all; the embassy’s doctor had flaked out on another couch, and was still sound asleep after last night’s work. The dorm was still a mess from the disrupted barbecue. Ray spent some time cleaning the lobby, and he had it in fairly decent shape when Jones came downstairs. “Where’s breakfast?” she asked Ray.

“There’s food in the kitchen pantry,” Ray said. “Stick with the imports, unless you’ve got some enzyme pills.”

“Uh-huh. Where’s the bagdrag field? We have to get out there and set up our gear for some test shots. That, and get some shots of Faber in practice.”

“Faber’s been expelled,” Ray said. He held up a hand before she could react to the good news. “I’m going to see if I can get another human to sub for him. Mcllvaine agreed to that, so get set up in case things work out.”

“Things had better work out,” Jones said. “Covering this game is my chance to hire on with a real network, instead of Mcllvaine’s two-bit carnival. I don’t want anyone to blow it for me—and waste the trip to this miserable dirtball to boot.”

“Things will work out,” Ray promised. All he had to do was find a substitute for Faber. He toyed with the idea of enrolling in Vrekle, then realized it wouldn’t work; Zelk couldn’t stretch the rules far enough to pretend that he had suddenly become a student in good standing, much less an athlete. Jones shook her head as though somehow agreeing with his thoughts, and headed into the kitchen.

Elizabeth came down a moment later, looking tired and harried after last night. “Have you had breakfast yet?” she asked.

“No, I thought I’d wait until you were up. I hate eating alone.”

“Same here. I’ll get us something.”

That seemed like an improvement over last night, and Ray was mulling it over when a kya came into the lobby. His muzzle wrinkled as the air hit him in the face, but he kept his reaction under control. “Dean Zelk wants to talk with you,” he told Ray. “Nyquist being in her office, she says it’s urgent.”

Elizabeth popped out of the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” the kya admitted. “The ambassador being upset, I think he wants all humans off the campus.”

“He can’t do that,” Elizabeth said. She left the dorm with Ray and the kya, who led them across the campus to the administration building. The kya ushered the humans into the dean’s office, where Nyquist sat on one end of the stools Zelk kept for her guests. Ray thought the man looked pleased with himself.

Nyquist ignored Ray. “Ms. Sheffield,” he said to Elizabeth. “In light of recent events, I think it would be better if the human contingent withdrew from this university.”

“Why should we leave?” Elizabeth asked. “We like it here.”

“You had an incident of mass poisoning last night,” Nyquist said. “Luckily nobody died or suffered permanent injury, but we can’t count on that luck the next time this happens.”

“Vapor did it,” Zelk said. “Having expelled the stinker, I can assure you there will be no repetition.”

“I’m still concerned with the likelihood of trouble on this campus,” Nyquist said. “You’ve already had protests from other students over the human presence, and this poisoning has sparked more complaints, hasn’t it?”

“How would you know?” Ray asked.

Nyquist smiled smugly. “I understand the kya. From their point of view, one member of the human herd has insanely attacked the rest of his group. Isn’t that so, Dean Zelk?”

“Yes,” Zelk admitted. “Having received some complaints this morning—well, we can ignore them.”

“Can we?” Nyquist asked. “I wish I could share your confidence, but I can’t. I’m going to ask the UN to order the human students evacuated until it’s safe for them to return—whenever that may be. They’ll be out of here within the week, along with that network crew.”

“What about our contract with GSN?” Zelk demanded. “We can’t afford to have it revoked. The return of the advance money will bankrupt the university.”

“That can’t be helped.” Nyquist stood up. “It’s unfortunate that Bennett foisted such bad terms on you. Perhaps the next time you want to do business with Earth, you’ll realize that you’re better off working through the UN.”

Zelk looked at him and exhaled loudly, a symbolic clearing of his scent from his nostrils. “She’s right,” Ray said. “Mr. Ambassador, you’re the salt of the earth—and we all know what salt does to the earth.”

Nyquist glowered at Ray. “And we know what people like you can do to Kya,” he said. “You’re a carpetbagger, an exploiter. The UN is trying to arrange an equitable, orderly transfer of technologic and scientific knowledge to Kya, something that won’t reduce their society to chaos.”

“Something that’s controlled by the UN,” Elizabeth said. “Something that lets you decide who gets to do business with the kya. You’re giving yourself a lot of power, aren’t you?”

“We are the experts in dealing with non-humans,” Nyquist said. “And I suppose I should thank you people. The mess you’ve made will give the UN the leverage to pass legislation that lets us control all business conducted between Earth and Kya. We’ll put a stop to fast-buck artists like Bennett.”

“While you decide what we can and can’t have,” Zelk said. Her floppy ears swiveled back in obvious anger. “Being the wisest creatures in existence, you naturally know more about what’s good for us than we do.”

“No, but we have a certain amount of experience,” Nyquist said, ignoring her sarcasm. “You should try to benefit from it. Good day.”

Elizabeth watched him go, then turned to Zelk. “Is it too late for me to join the bagdrag team?” she asked.