THE ALL-PRO (49 page)

“It’s the off-week,” Quentin said and felt immediately stupid for saying it. He was the poster boy for extra practice.
Usually
the poster boy, that was.

Cliff Frost took off his helmet. The big HeavyG smiled at Quentin and Cillian. “Don’s helping us,” he said. “We don’t get as many reps in practice as the starters. I haven’t finished a season yet ‘cause of all my injuries. I’m behind Michnik, Khomeni and Palmer on the depth chart, but you never know who might get hurt. If I get in this year, I want to make the most of my opportunities.”

“And I as well,” said Killik. He glared at Quentin, not bothering to hide his emotions. His eye swirled with a touch of saturated red. “We can’t all have the advantage of being your pet project.”

Zer-Eh and Shun-On said nothing. They just stood there. Mezquitic’s four eyestalks stared at the hexagonal floor tiles. She refused to look Quentin in the eye.

Don stepped forward. Quentin’s hands balled into fists before he realized Don was extending his own hand, extending it toward Cillian.

“Don Pine,” he said. “You’re Quentin’s dad?”

“I know who ... I mean, nice to meet you,” Cillian said. They shook hands. “Yes, I’m Quentin’s father.”

“A pleasure,” Don said. “Well, you two enjoy your day. We’re going to get back to it.”

“Are you now,” Quentin said. He heard the anger in his own voice. “And what are you getting back to, Don?”

Don smiled, shrugged. “Like Cliff said. You never know who will get hurt. Or who will, say, get thrown out of a game.”

“That didn’t do so much for you against the Orbiting Death,” Quentin said.

Don shrugged, pulled on his helmet. “There’s always next time. I just want you to feel confident, Quentin. Confident that if you can’t get the job done against Wabash, or the Pirates in Week Ten, or D’Kow or even Themala, I’m ready to go.”

Don jogged back to the center of the VR room. The other players followed. The room again came to life, this time as a replica of The Big Eye complete with red-and-white jerseyed To Pirates holographic players.

Quentin burned with anger. Don wanted the starting spot back. And Quentin knew damn well Don was good enough to take it, but
only
if Quentin played poorly. Well, Quentin would just make sure that didn’t happen. The starting spot was his, his alone, his forever.

“Son?” Cillian said. “Your forehead is doing that vein thing again.”

Quentin forced himself to turn away. “I’m fine, Dad,” he said, even though Cillian hadn’t asked him a question. “Let’s finish the tour.”

They left the room. There was only so much off-time he could spend with his father. Quentin had to make a choice and he was making it — spending time with Cillian was more important than the extra practice ... wasn’t it?

It was. There was more to life than football.

Just not
much
more.

• • •

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN
you’re
canceling the trip
?”

Danny the Dolphin did not look happy. Quentin was by no means an expert in Dolphin expressions, but narrowed eyes and high volume seemed to be a nearly universal indicator of emotion. The close-up image of Danny in the holotank left no question about that.

“I mean, I’m not going.” Quentin said.

“The trip is all set, buddy. They’re expecting you on Mars on Tuesday and in Antarctica on Wednesday.”

“Antarctica?”

“That’s where McMurdo is, guy.”

“But isn’t Antarctica cold?”

“It was, back in the Olden Times, the Long-Ago Times, but now it’s a paradise. You think I’d make you sign somewhere awful?”

“Well, you arranged a visit to Mars, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but in my defense, they are offering an
awful
lot of money. And speaking of an
awful lot of money
, it seems your advertiser patron is making a move into the GFL and wants to bring you home.”

“Excuse me?”

“Manny Sayed and a silent partner just bought the Buddha City Elite.”

“I already told you I’m not interested in playing for Buddha City.”

“Well, sure, but that was
before
they told me they will top any offer, guy.
Any
offer. They want to build their franchise around the hometown hero. I’m arranging a visit.”

Quentin shook his head. “Forget it. Don’t bother. I’m never going back to the Purist Nation, Danny. You hear me?
Never
.”

Danny paused, thinking, then nodded, his long nose bobbing up and down. “All right. You Humans and your religions. Crazy stuff, buddy. But okay, I’ll let them know you’re not interested. But listen, guy, as for McMurdo and Mars, you can’t just cancel these trips. The Murderers and the Planets really want you. They are making
big
offers.”

Quentin fought to keep his expression neutral. He felt terrible making Danny do all this work, but the fact remained that Danny was the employee. Quentin didn’t work for Danny, Danny worked for Quentin. As such, Quentin would make the decisions.

“Barnes, this is your bye week. What are you doing that’s so important you can just toss all of my effort overboard?”

“Danny, I appreciate the work, but I just met my father. I have a couple of days off. I want to spend them with him.”

“You have the whole off-season to spend with him! If we sign a deal with Mars or McMurdo or the To Pirates, buddy, you can afford to have Pops cloned ten times over and make up for lost time.”

“Danny, the answer is no. I’m canceling the trip.”

Danny’s long mouth opened a little, showing the pointy teeth inside. Was that an expression of frustration? Perhaps even rage?

“You’re killing me here, guy,” he said. “I’m crushed, crippled and conquered. Look, I can reschedule something with the Murderers and the Planets, but for High One’s sake,
if you don’t meet with other teams, the Pirates could unexpectedly lower that rumored offer
.”

The quarterback of the Blood Red. His dream job. The thing Quentin had always wanted. Well, times change and people change. The eight-year-old version of you doesn’t know where the twenty-year-old version will wind up.

“Danny, look, I—”

“Do you know what I would have to go through to get the Pirates to make that
rumored
offer? I’m betting you don’t know Dolphin anatomy, so I’ll spare you the details, but the metaphor would make you most uncomfortable, guy. It involves fish parts.”

Danny didn’t look as angry now. He looked ... pained. He clearly had worked his tail off for Quentin. Quentin couldn’t invalidate all of that because his father had shown up
now
. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t right.

“Okay,” Quentin said. “Sure ... reschedule the meetings. Can my dad come?”

Danny’s head nodded quickly. He let out a chittering sound that was all Dolphin. “Yes! No problem, buddy. You’re the boss, right? I mean, I do all this work at your whim, right? You’re a star, guy, so bring the old man. Just tell him to be quiet, all right?”

“Okay. I gotta get going. My dad and I are going on a tour of the Wastes.”

“How nice and domestic,” Danny said. “Now I gotta go do damage control, guy. Nothing like angering an organization with the nickname of the
Murderers
, if you know what I’m saying.”

Danny broke the connection. Sure, Quentin felt bad, but it would be okay. If the McMurdo Murderers and the Mars Planets wanted him that bad, they could wait. As for the To Pirates? Only time would tell.

• • •

THE GLASS-BOTTOMED TOUR BUS
hovered some thirty feet above Ionath’s pock-marked surface, high enough to avoid jagged boulders and outcroppings that stuck up at every angle, low enough to see the small plants growing in the ground’s deep cracks.

“As you can see,” said the Quyth Worker tour guide, “the surface of Ionath is on its way to recovery. Plant growth continues to expand. Foliage now covers an estimated forty-five percent of the surface. This first phase of growth consumes radioactive material for energy. Once the radioactivity is gone, this phase of plant life will die out. Then the government will reintroduce what native species it has gathered from museums and universities.”

Quentin’s father looked down, past his feet to the shattered surface below. “This is madness,” he said quietly. “Quentin, you live on a dead planet.”

“It’s not
dead
, Dad. Well, most of it is, but Ionath City is pretty cool, don’t you think?”

His father looked up, smiled. Quentin still couldn’t believe it. Even though the man was sitting right there, right next to him.
His father
.

“Yeah,” Cillian said. “The city is pretty impressive. It’s all kind of overwhelming, to tell you the truth, but I guess you’re used to living in such an amazing place. Do you know the city well?”

“Not really. Most of my time is spent on football. You can’t take your eyes off the prize for even a minute, or you get beat like we did with Coranadillana.”

His father’s smile faded a little. “Quentin, I don’t want to just, you know, jump back into your life and start giving advice.”

Quentin waited, but his father paused. How odd — the one person from whom Quentin
would
take unsolicited advice, yet his father was waiting for permission to share it.

“Go ahead, Dad. It’s okay.”

“I’ve only known you for a couple of days, Son. I mean, the grown-up you. But ... I know you’re a professional athlete and talented and things like that, but don’t you think you need some balance in your life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe you need more than just football? You live here, yet this is the first time you’ve been beyond the city walls?”

“Well, yeah. Like I said, Dad, I’m kind of busy. I’m the quarterback. There’s a lot of sentients depending on me.”

His father nodded quickly, apologetically. “Yes, of course. I understand that. It’s just that you sacrifice everything else to make that happen.”

Quentin hadn’t thought about it that way before, but his dad was right. “Yeah, I guess I do sacrifice. But I think that’s what it takes to succeed. I’m not any different from John or Ju or anyone on the team. Anyone in the entire league, for that matter.”

His father looked down again, through the clear hull. The tour bus was flying over a crashed ship. Military? Passenger? Quentin didn’t know. The wreck looked like it had been there for decades, at least. Deep run-off grooves led away from parts of the ship, showing where water collected during storms before spilling away in miniature rivers. Some kind of red moss had grown up over the blackened, twisted metal, turning a vision of death and destruction into a blossoming sculpture of life.

“Well, you’ve had more success than I ever had,” Cillian said. “You know what you’re doing, Son, and I’m proud of you. I guess as busy as you are, staying in one city for a lot of years is the way to really have a place you call home.”

His father’s words made Quentin think about free agency, the canceled trips to Earth and Mars. “I don’t know, Dad. Some other teams want to sign me.”

“But I thought you liked it here. You said you were friends with your teammates?”

“I am. But, well, I’m young for my position and teams want me. It would mean a lot of money.”

His father reached out his scarred right hand, put it around Quentin’s shoulder. Cillian was a big man, but still half a foot shorter than Quentin. “Son, whatever you do will be the right choice. Just remember that all the money in the galaxy couldn’t replace the years I lost with you, with your mother, your brother and your sister. Money is a great thing, but it’s not the greatest thing.”

His father squeezed his shoulder, pulling him in close for a quick, manly hug. Then a pat on the back, then Cillian looked at the tour guide, who was explaining the next landmark.

“Now we’re to the best part of the tour,” the Worker said. “We’re about to float over an original relativity bomb crater, one that caused immense damage and wiped out all life in a twenty-mile radius. The walls of the crater are some five-hundred feet deep. You might experience a little vertigo, but do not worry — I’ve taken this trip many times before and I haven’t fallen in yet.”

Laughter escaped the mixed crowd of Human, Sklorno, Quyth Worker and Quyth Warrior passengers. There were also four Quyth Leaders, but that caste never seemed to laugh at anything.

Then the bottom fell out of Quentin’s world. Despite the tour guide’s assurances, seeing the ground drop off below your feet to a deep, mist-covered bottom made his stomach do flip-flops.

As the tour bus sailed out over the massive crater, Quentin thought over his father’s words:
Money is a great thing, but it’s not the greatest thing
.

Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network

BYE WEEKS
:
Hittoni Hullwalkers, Ionath Krakens, Lu Juggernauts, Jang Atom Smashers, Shorah Warlords, Vik Vanguard