Scott Sigler - The Rookie

He checked his messageboard, which displayed a map of the ship guiding him to Denver’s room. Without the map, he’d have quickly become lost in the Technicolor intensity. Like all doors in this section, Denver’s door was oblong, tall and narrow, like the outline of an egg stretched lengthwise. It was different, but a door was a door — it struck Quentin that this was something (minor, but something) that the different races had in common: a need for privacy, or perhaps just a need to put up walls. Except the Ki, that was… he wasn’t sure if the Ki even understood the concept of privacy.

Quentin pushed the door buzzer. There was a brief pause. The door slid open. Denver stood there for a moment, then started to tremble. Her raspers unrolled, hitting the ground.

“Quentin Barnes,” she said.

Quentin nodded. “Um, listen… I know I’ve been a bit rude to you.”

Denver simply stared. Stared and trembled. From inside the room, Milford walked up behind her. Milford also began to tremble. They both looked at him like he was some kind of… well… alien. To them, he was an alien, probably as weird and disgusting as they were to him.

“So I was hoping that your offer was still good.”

“We participate making you even greater?”

“Yes, I would appreciate that.”

Denver began to bounce lightly in place. Milford did the same. Quentin could see into the room, and noticed that the ceilings were at least twenty feet high.

“When-when-when-when!” Denver said.

Quentin shrugged. “Well, I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow, so how about we get few reps in right now. I know the VR field is open, and we — ”

The two receivers raced out of the room, cutting his words short as they inadvertently shoved him against the far wall. They sprinted down the hall with all their flat-out Sklorno speed, headed for the ship’s center section and the VR field.

Like little kids the morning of Giving Day , he thought, and laughed to himself as he followed them down the hall.

WITH ALL THE ROOM’S lights turned off, the only illumination came from the row of holotanks. The moving, flashing images cast an uneven and unsteady light onto Hokor’s face. Some of his players were taking the loss very hard, and others didn’t seem to care at all.

Michnik and Khomeni were in the cafeteria, drowning their sorrows in food. The Ki were also about to start their meal. Hokor heard the pitiful bleat of their prey animal. He punched a button on his remote control, turning off that monitor before the Ki started eating. Some players were in the infirmary, Doc tending to their wounds. In a way, Hokor wished more of his players were in the infirmary, as dozens of injuries might be a way to console himself at the humiliating loss.

The Krakens were 1–2, their chances of qualifying for the Tier Two tournament almost completely destroyed. The Glory Warpigs and the Whitok Pioneers both sat at 3–0. The way Condor Adrienne was playing, he didn’t see the Pioneers losing more than two games at most. The Krakens had to win their next six to even have a chance at the playoffs.

The Krakens’ next game against the 0–3 Sky Demolition was the only chance to get back in the race — at least mathematically. A loss… well, another loss meant the end of the playoff hopes, and the end of Hokor’s tenure with Ionath.

This would be his last season as Krakens’ coach, he knew that. Gredok wouldn’t stand for it. If only Pine hadn’t gone down! That was why he went after Quentin, but the talented young Nationalite needed more time. Time Hokor didn’t have.

“Computer, where is Quentin Barnes?”

[QUENTIN BARNES IS UTILIZING THE KRIEGS-BALLOK VIRTUAL PRACTICE SYSTEM]

Nothing new there. Hokor punched a button to call up a holo of the VR practice room. Barnes was there, as he always was. The Human had taken quite a beating thanks to an offensive line that simply did not want to block for him. Yet he had kept getting up, and kept playing as hard as he could. And now, only hours after the game, he was practicing yet again. Barnes dropped back, stepped up, and threw a hard crossing pattern. The throw was a bit behind the receiver. Hokor expected to see the ball pass through the outstretched holographic arms and go bouncing down the field, but it hit the arms and stuck.

Hokor leaned forward. The VR players faded away, leaving not only Quentin, but Denver and Milford as well. Hokor could scarcely believe his eyes. The two Sklorno receivers ran back to Quentin and lined up for another play.

Can any team stop Condor Adrienne? Maybe, but that team certainly isn’t the Ionath Krakens(1–2), who let Adrienne throw for 340 yards and three touchdowns on 22-of-32 passing. Adrienne’s Whitok Pioneers(3–0) torched the Ionath Krakens(1–2) for a 35–10 win.

So will Adrienne be stopped? If so, it might be this week when the Pioneers travel to the Glory Warpigs(3–0). The ‘Pigs remained tied for first thanks to a narrow 14–12 win over Orbiting Death(2–1). The Death couldn’t manage a touchdown against the Warpigs’ defense, which ranks first in all of Tier Two.

Finally a win on the home planet as the Quyth Survivors(1–2) defeated the Bigg Diggers(1–2), 29–24.

Sheb Stalkers(2–1) got back into the playoff hunt with a 1914 win over the Grontak Hydras(1–2), and the Woo Wallcrawlers(1–2) notched their first victory of the season with a 42-6 drubbing of the winless Sky Demolition(0–3).

DEATHS:

This week we mourn the passing of two players, Demolition defensive lineman Kok-O-Thallaand Bigg Diggers’ receiver Martinsville.Martinsville died on a clean hit by Survivor’s defensive back Topinabee, and Kok-O-Thalla died during a fumble pileup. The league has not ruled it a clean death, and is still investigating although no Wallcrawlers player has yet been fined.

Offense: Condor Adrienne,quarterback, Whitok Pioneers. 22-of-32, 340 yards, three TDs, no INTs.

Defense: Yalla the Biter,linebacker, Sky Demolition. Eleven tackles, two sacks and a fumble recovery.

GAME FOUR: Ionath Krakens (1–2) at Sky Demolition (0–3)

QUYTH IRRADIATED CONFERENCE STANDINGS

WITH THE TOUCHBACK hovering in orbit, the shuttle flew Quentin and the other rookies down to Ionath City. This time, however, when they got out, there were Quyth Workers and Quyth Leaders dressed in white uniforms. A red line glowed on the roof of the Krakens’ Building.

“Players line up on the red line,” said a blue-furred Quyth Leader.

Quentin lightly elbowed Yassoud. “What’s this all about?”

“It’s a customs check,” Yassoud said. “Quyth System Police. Don’t worry about it, league rules apply in the Concordia just like they do everywhere else in the galaxy. The customs guys can’t touch you, so whatever you’re carrying, they can’t do a thing.”

Quentin looked down the line and saw Shayat the Thick with his bulging backpack. He then looked at other players, and saw that several of them carried a bag of some sort. Yassoud held a small satchel — Quentin didn’t want to know what was inside.