THE ALL-PRO (61 page)

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Authors: Scott Sigler

BOOK: THE ALL-PRO
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Ibrahim opened his eyes, saw Quentin.

“Sorry,” he said.

Quentin laughed. “Not your fault, man. Everyone gets hurt sooner or later. Palmer will finish the job and you’ll be back next week.”

Khomeni gave a weak smile. He wouldn’t be back next week. He knew it, Quentin knew it.

“You know it, Q,” he said. “Just finish this one off for me.”

Quentin lightly patted Khomeni’s thick shoulder, then walked to the benches and sat. He grabbed two water bottles, handed one to Becca, took a long drink from the other.

“Becca,” he said when he finished, “what you did out there on that last drive? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She took off her helmet and gave him a quizzical look, her black hair plastered wetly to her head. “Me? I just blocked.”

“I should have been sacked on that play. Not just
sacked
 ... more like
executed
. You blocked
two
players at the same time. What are you, like an acrobat or something?”

She scowled and shook her head. “I just blocked. You must have been hit harder than you think. Good pass, though.”

The rest of the offense gathered around them, including Warburg. Hokor squeezed into the middle dragging a portable holotank, cutting off all conversation.

“We’re up 35-30,” he said. “Barnes, nice pass. Warburg, great run. Becca, amazing blocking. Now, we have to assume our defense can’t hold them, so let’s be ready for a two-minute drive to set up a field goal.”

His pedipalp fingers worked the holotank. A field appeared in mid-air, showing the play they’d just run. Hokor’s fingertips started drawing lines of light that hung there, revealing the paths of various players.

“We can hit this pass again if we have to,” he said. “Now, everyone, if the corner doesn’t
blitz
, look at what’s available.”

Quentin leaned forward, focusing on the inch-high football players and their respective paths.

GFL WEEK ELEVEN ROUNDUP

Courtesy of Galaxy Sports Network

WITH A 45-42 UPSET
win over the Yall Criminals (7-3), the Vik Vanguard (7-3) locked up the third playoff spot in the Solar Division and capped an amazing turnaround from last year. In 2683, the Vanguard finished 2-10, barely ahead of relegated Chillich Spider-Bears, who finished at 1-11.

This is Vik’s first trip to the postseason since they lost the 2679 Galaxy Bowl to the New Rodina Astronauts. The Vanguard has now won five straight games.

“We’re thrilled with a trip to the playoffs, but we’re not done,” said Vanguard coach Katie Lampkin. “We have two games left in the regular season. We’ll be fighting hard to catch Jupiter in the standings and get a home playoff game.”

Lampkin’s hope is now a possibility thanks to Jupiter’s 21-10 loss to the Bord Brigands (4-6). The Jacks (8-2) are currently the second seed in the Solar Division playoffs, but could be overtaken by the Vanguard. The Jacks still have to face the Neptune Scarlet Fliers (9-1) and the Jang Atom Smashers (4-6).

The Bartel Water Bugs (5-5) currently hold the fourth seed in the Solar, thanks to a 20-14 win over the Sala Intrigue (1-9). Bord, Jang and the Texas Earthlings (4-6) all won, keeping their playoff hopes mathematically alive.

The Earthlings’ shocking 17-14 cross-divisional upset over the To Pirates (8-2) shook things up in the Planet Division. Texans linebacker Alonzo Castro was the hero of the game, causing a fourth-quarter fumble on a Frank Zimmer sack that Castro also recovered and ran back for the winning touchdown.

The Pirates’ loss leaves Wabash (9-1) all alone in first place in the Planet. The Wolfpack locked up a playoff berth with a 28-24 win over Isis (7-3). Even if Wabash loses its final two games and finishes 9-3, it holds head-to-head tiebreakers over Isis, Yall (7-3) and Themala (7-3).

The Ionath Krakens (7-3) are also finally in the playoff hunt. Ionath’s 35-30 win over the D’Kow War Dogs moves the Krakens back into a four-way tie for third place. This week Ionath travels to Themala. The winner of that game is almost guaranteed a playoff berth.

Deaths

No deaths reported this week.

Offensive Player of the Week

Ionath Krakens tight end
Rick Warburg
, who caught eight passes for 112 yards and two touchdowns in a win over the D’Kow War Dogs.

Defensive Player of the Week

Bord defensive end
Paul “Bandit” Preston
, who picked up three sacks and four solo tackles in the Brigands’ upset win over the Jupiter Jacks.

22
WEEK TWELVE:
IONATH KRAKENS
at THEMALA DREADNAUGHTS

PLANET DIVISION

9-1 x - Wabash Wolfpack

8-2 To Pirates

7-3 Isis Ice Storm

7-3 Yall Criminals

7-3 Ionath Krakens

7-3 Themala Dreadnaughts

4-6 Hittoni Hullwalkers

4-6 OS1 Orbiting Death

3-7 Coranadillana Cloud Killers

2-8 Alimum Armada

1-9 Lu Juggernauts

SOLAR DIVISION

9-1 x - Neptune Scarlet Fliers

8-2 x - Jupiter Jacks

7-3 x - Vik Vanguard

5-5 Bartel Water Bugs

4-6 Bord Brigands

4-6 Jang Atom Smashers

4-6 Texas Earthlings

3-7 D’Kow War Dogs

3-7 New Rodina Astronauts

3-7 Shorah Warlords

1-9 Sala Intrigue

x = playoffs, y = division title, * = team has been relegated

QUENTIN AND JOHN TWEEDY WALKED
down an 18th-deck corridor toward Hokor’s office aboard the
Touchback
. He’d summoned the two of them, his team captains, to come up after Thursday practice. Themala was only a one-day trip — short by the season’s standards. Hokor wanted to arrive Friday morning, letting the team get a full practice in on Themala’s field and get the feel of the place.

“Q, brother, can I be honest with you?

“Of course,” Quentin said.

“You’re doing super-mega better in practice this week than you were in Week Ten against the Pirates,” John said. “That was enough to beat D’Kow, but Themala is way better than the War Dogs. We need you at the top of your game to beat Themala. You’re still a little distracted. I know your fake-pops is scrambling the noodley goodness that is your brains, but you gotta let it go.”

Like mother, like son. Until they’d left for Themala, Ma Tweedy had been telling Quentin the same thing — every night when she left, every morning when she showed up at his door to make sure he was ready for practice. The woman didn’t seem to require sleep. But her efforts were working. Quentin’s concentration had improved. He would never forget what Gredok had done, but there was time to worry about that later — Ma Tweedy helped Quentin focus on the task at hand.

The task of making the playoffs.

“I’m trying,” Quentin said. “I really am, Uncle Johnny, but it’s easier said than done. That Vinje guy ... I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I still say you should have let me kill him,” John said. “You can hire Fred for that, you know.”

“Fred’s killed people?”

“Yes, but they were all bad,” John said. “Fred is very selective about his jobs.”

Quentin had buried his pain in hard work, pushed the team to match his intensity. Two games left in the season. Sunday’s contest against Themala was critically important — both teams were 7-and-3 and tied for third. That meant the winner would not only move to 8-and-3 but have a head-to-head tiebreaker important for determining playoff berths. The winner was all but in, the loser more than likely out.

Ionath’s team goal of making the playoffs hung intoxicatingly close, maybe just one win away.

“You gotta get over it, Q,” John said. “I know it sucks, brother. I do, but the entire franchise rides on your shoulders.”

John was right. Quentin’s problem was just that —
Quentin’s
problem. He had to find a way to put Sarge Vinje behind him, at least until the season was over. “I’ll work on it, John.”

John smiled.
THERE IS NO DO, THERE IS ONLY TO TRY OR NOT TO BE
scrolled across his face.

They walked into Hokor’s office. Quentin half-expected to see Gredok there, but that was stupid — since the dinner at Torba’s, the black-furred owner had made himself scarce. Gredok got what he’d wanted. Now he stayed out of the way, letting Quentin do what Quentin was paid to do.

Coach Hokor was sitting at his desk, Doc Patah floating near his right shoulder. Hokor stared into a holotank on his desktop. The tank displayed a small football field swarming with half-inch-high players — action from last week’s game between the Themala Dreadnaughts and the Alimum Armada. The Dreads had won 24-21.

“Coach,” Quentin said. “You wanted to see us?”

They waited, but Hokor didn’t look up.

“Coach Hokor,” Doc Patah said. “You have visitors.”

Coach still didn’t seem to notice. Doc Patah reached down a mouth-flap and tapped Hokor on the shoulder. Coach looked up, blinked his one eye, finally noticing that someone was in his office.

“Sit down,” Hokor said. “I need to review a roster change with you.”

Quentin and John sat.

Hokor waved his left pedipalp across the desk. The holographic field vanished. “We have a situation at defensive end,” he said. “Khomeni is out for the next two weeks, at least.”

John stood up. “
What?
What are you talking about?
Two weeks?

Quentin felt a chill. They were losing their dominant defensive end with two critical games left in the season.

“His knee,” Doc Patah said. “There is damage.”

John’s lip curled up. “So
fix it
, Doc. Put his ass in a tank and make it better. We need him.”

Hokor waved his pedipalps across the desk again, calling up his nav-icons. He poked a glowing image thumbnail, which increased to full size. A cross-section of a thick HeavyG leg, from the upper shin to just under the quadriceps. Muscles appeared as transparent red, tendons and ligaments as transparent blue, cartilage as transparent yellow. The white bones looked so real you could reach out and grab them.

Doc Patah pointed a mouth-flap at the tibia. Quentin noticed that the yellow cartilage looked ripped, a little ragged in one spot. Floating in it, he saw bits of white.

“Bone chips,” Doc Patah said. “He has a torn meniscus. That resulted in the femur grinding directly against the tibia. Bone chips are not a soft-tissue injury that I can fix quickly. The knee, in particular, is a difficult area with HeavyG due to the amount of weight they place on it.

“How long?” John said. “How long till you can get it fixed?”

“Two full weeks, as I told you,” Doc Patah said. “It is possible we will have him back for the second round of the playoffs.”

John shook his head. “We won’t make the playoffs without him. He’s our best pass-rusher. What about a patch-job? Bone graft and painkillers?”

Hokor’s eye swirled with black. He’d clearly already asked that question and received an answer he didn’t like.

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