

Octagla 3: Semifinals

by

Donald S. Hall, PhD. and Judi Suni Hall, PhD.

Copyright Gingezel™ Inc. 2019

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. The science fiction is set centuries in the future, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Judi Suni Hall

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

*****

Chapter 1

"All right!" Blue eyes flashing Cailla tipped her head up and looked a frowning Maras square in the face. "I think Tedia is a roof runner. That's why he shouldn't get sent down!"

How would he take that? Cailla waited, her pale face flushed and framed by blonde curls. She honestly didn't know the huge man well enough to judge the deepening scowl but it was making her nervous. Maybe she shouldn't have confronted Maras like that. They were supposed to be having a nice post-game supper. Maras was in a fancy purple and green suit. She had changed out of her weightless unitard into a low cut purple blouse and velvet pants that were accidentally a matching shade to Maras's suit. True, they were in his suite, not the promised restaurant, but it was supposed to be a nice post-game supper.

Supper was in his suite because the Space Station Security had said any restaurant was out of the question. Pendrae United fans, furious at the overtime win by their arch-rivals Tamara, were still roaming the space station. They had wanted Tamara humiliated, to be kept out of even the semifinals after their two Galactic Octagla championships at Pendrae United's expense. Cailla risked a glance at the the holoscreen. It was frozen at a harmless scene from the drama they were watching, and Maras had set it to cut to any news emergency. So at least the crowd wasn't trashing the place - yet. They were just roaming around yelling a lot. When the game ended with a Tamara win in overtime it had looked like they were going to riot.

Fury was the Pendrae viewpoint. For Maras, first string defenseman for Tamara and a candidate for league MVP, this was a night to celebrate. But right now Maras did not look in a remotely celebratory mood to Cailla. He looked as mean, ugly, and intimidating as he did in the court. Maybe more so. After all, an Octagla court was large. He could dominate one of them, and this dingy greige portel sitting room was cramped. Maras had bragged he'd got the biggest one on the space station but it was small and he did more than dominate it. He overpowered it. With them both squashed onto the two seater couch and him scowling down at her, Cailla was uncomfortably aware that Maras was the biggest man in the league. Toughest too. She searched for any softening in the expression on his black face but she wasn't sure there was any.

Roof runners were a rarity, and a lot of players didn't like them at all. Cailla did - she had played with one for two years before the woman got injured out of the game. You could set up plays with a roof runner that you couldn't in any other way! It had been a dream and the best year ever for the planetary pro level team she was winger on, the Pendrae Nebulae.

In a weightless Octagla court the convention was that the 'floor' was the surface between the two goals and the two sloped surfaces the goalies stood on. The surfaces touching the floor were the walls. The two sloped surfaces above the goal and the plane connecting them above that were the roof. Everyone used the roof, both to bounce the ball off, or to occasionally position themselves for a play, but very few were totally comfortable 'upside down'. Playing like that for too long was disorienting. But every now and again a player came along who was totally indifferent to their orientation. These were called roof runners, and a good roof runner could change a whole game.

Maras's stared, eyes narrowed, as Cailla's words slowly sunk in. He didn't want to talk about that Tedia! Were no good, and this stupid talk were stopping them finishing watching the holodrama before team curfew. But she were so cute when she was mad, and she were mad enough he'd better listen. What was it she said? Roof runner? Tedia were a roof runner? Maras felt a surge of excitement. He'd played with a roof runner in his second year of Terra planetary pro. The setups you could do with that guy. You drove the opposing defense and goalie nuts. He were just waiting for Larr to decide for real he could run roof. Not just sometimes like winning the game tonight, and in the Celebrity game, but for real steady. If Tedia were a roof runner too –.

The excitement faded as quickly as it had come. Tedia weren't no roof runner or he'd have played right to Larr, not screwed up and almost cost them getting into the semi-finals. Maras had no idea where Cailla got the idea from. It explained her being hot on the kid though.

Maras shook his head firmly. "Cailla, Tedia don't roof run. After him screwing up steady that first game I watched the games he's played Junior. He works the floor."

"How many years did you go back?"

"There's only two years. He's just a kid like Ranga."

"Then that isn't conclusive. All that means is no one on his Junior team can play to a roof runner. Not everyone can. I was surprised you could in the Celebrity game. Did you like it?" she asked with honest curiosity.

"Yep," Maras said with pride. "My second year planetary pro at Terra we had a real good roof runner. Coach didn't use him that way a lot – wanted to keep everyone off balance. But when we did ..." Maras chuckled, his irritation forgotten. "You should'a heard the language, especially from the goalies." It was his turn to be curious. "How come you decided Tedia runs roof?"

"I've played with one too. There was one goal he scored in this game. There's no way I could have made a shot like that. I wouldn't have even tried the angles, to say nothing of the fact I probably would have dislocated my shoulder."

"He shouldn't have tried that stunt neither!" Maras swung back to not liking that stupid kid.

"Unless he's a roof runner! I think ..." She bit her lip, lost in reverie. "I'd have to see the game again – I think the angles look right that way. Can you call up the game?" Cailla asked.

"You got to give me the control. You sat on it. Remember?" She might not. She were all excited, trying to help out.

Cailla had temporarily forgotten how terribly violent the holodrama Maras had selected for them was. Now she reluctantly fished out the control from under her thigh and handed it over. Please Maras, don't turn that holodrama back on! Please! Involuntarily her hand closed tight on the control.

"Don't you like the holodrama?" Maras asked with some concern. He'd tried to pick a real good one. He wanted Cailla to have a good time.

The expression on his face tempered her reply. "It takes a bit of getting used to," she hedged.

So Cailla had trouble sometimes the first time she saw a holodrama too. "It'll make a lot more sense the next time you see it," Maras reassured her.

Cailla was quite sure she did not want to understand this drama, and she was even more sure she was not going to finish it once, much less twice if she could help it. It was the most mindless violence she had ever seen.

"Well, right now let's see if I'm right on Tedia."

Maras nodded, and they found the play. They watched in silence the first time, then as they were watching again, Cailla said, "Stop it, now." She studied the image. "Back up a bit." She stood, pointing. "If he was used to coming down here, that's exactly where he'd take a shot from, and the angles don't look bad that way."

Maras backed it up further, then played it forward in slow motion. "You're maybe right," he said reluctantly.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Call him up and ask him," Maras said practically.

"One more thing first Maras ..." Cailla hesitated biting her lip. "It's about the fact Tedia just isn't integrating with the team."

That were true. What good were a roof runner what couldn't play worth a damn. "Yeah, that's true. So the roof running don't matter." Maras turned the holodrama back on. With Tedia disposed of, maybe they could finally watch that gang fight. And maybe sometime, before she left, Cailla would let him kiss her. Both options sounded a lot better than thinkin' about that kid. After all, nobody made him come up to Galactic Pro. If he couldn't handle it, it were his problem.

"Maras!" Cailla snatched the control and turned the drama off before the mayhem turned her stomach. Then she tucked the remote back under her thigh.

This time Maras wasn't amused. "What'd you do that for!?"

"Because we're talking about Tedia!"

"He's lousy. We's done talking." He held out his hand.

"No Maras. He is not lousy. He's simply not anticipating the play. I was watching his eyes. He's looking every which way at once trying to see what's going on. Then he's scrambling to catch up."

"And that," Maras said bluntly, "means he's lousy." He were getting real tired of hearing about Tedia.

Cailla ignored the impending storm. "Or he's not understanding your signals Maras. Have you made a point of drilling him on them?"

"Signals?" Maras was shocked out of his anger. "Cailla, we don't use signs up here. And," his irritation returned, "neither do you Planetary. I seen all your old games, and I never saw you sign once. You talk on the team intercom like everybody."

"All right ... not exactly signs. But you know what I mean." He did too. He was just being difficult. "When your inner winger holds their stick a certain way, you know it's going to be a deke, not a pass. They don't have to say. Or they'll make fleeting eye contact just before starting a play. That sort of thing. You know what I mean."

Reluctantly Maras nodded.

Cailla persisted. Anything, even this pushing a rock up a hill conversation was better than that holodrama. "So have you drilled him?"

"No." Maras held out his hand again.

Cailla looked at him in real surprise. "Maras, you were excited when I first mentioned roof running. And just think of him and Larr." She was excited again. "Are you telling me now you'd pass on a roof runner if it means a few extra drills?"

"I would if his name is Tedia." Light glinted on his gold hair tubes as he tossed his head in distain.

Cailla searched his face. "You really don't like him, do you?"

"No." Maras said, his face turning into the scowl he usually reserved for the Octagla court.

Damn that Tedia! Maras's mind went along the now familiar track. Were Isley goin' to send him back down, or were it his job to do somethin' as the newly appointed team captain? Like thump the kid out for almost costing them the game. He'd like that, thumping the kid good. Someone had told him Tedia were a bit older than Ranga, but he sure didn't look or act it. He was scruffy too. Maras looked at his own expensive suit. That were right, not some old T-shirt. He wore his dark hair straggly around his pale face, an' he looked too much like a girl. Also Maras did not like the way Tedia's eyes, such a pale brown they was almost amber, was always watching him. It made him edgy.

Maras did not like the way Tedia acted either. He were nervy, and he smiled too much, and he sucked up to people like what didn't ice him, like Marco and Greg. Then there were his funny, almost singsong voice that made it hard to understand what he were saying, even in Comlan. But mostly Maras did not like the fact Tedia had almost cost the team its chance for the playoffs. Would have them out in the first round for sure. What were Isley doin' bringing him up from Junior and putting him on the first string to replace Roban since Roban got suspended. Why weren't he using Sandlik? Sandlik were good, ready to move up from second string.

Tedia were lousy, that were all there was to it. He got the plays wrong. He took chances. There must've been five times where he shouldn't have even taken a shot, given the angle he were at. The fact he had scored once, a fair average, didn't count with Maras. You didn't waste a shot until it were real good odds. Tedia belonged back in Junior. Now, before the trading deadline. Before Tedia cost him that MVP award.

Maras held out his hand. "Come on Cailla. Tedia is nothing to us. We was having a real nice night."

Cailla hesitated, considering her options. Maras was sort of right. If you excluded the guard it took to get them safely to Maras's room and the disastrous holodrama, they had enjoyed each other's company. And she was perfectly aware Maras was thoroughly enjoying the holodrama and probably figured it made up for a room service supper. So she could give in. The relevant question there was if Maras would notice if she shut her eyes and plugged her ears. Most likely, and then he would be insulted.

That route also shorted Tedia. She really thought he had Galactic Pro potential. Should she could dig her heels in and flatly insist Maras call him? She expected that would lead to their first and quite likely last fight. For sure it wouldn't be followed by a kiss and makeup scene, since they hadn't kissed tonight, or seemed likely to unless she took the initiative. Mai had obviously given Maras quite a 'keep your big paws off my friend' lecture, because he avoided voluntarily touching her, although he prolonged anything she started. She thought of her happily married friend, hoping for inspiration. It didn't come. She and Mai were too different. Mai was a tiny oriental, cute and feisty, giving as good as she got.

Or she could use traditional feminine wiles. 'Please darling' with a bit of petting thrown in. Cailla doubted though that this would end up getting Tedia called. She rather expected it would be exactly the behavior Maras needed to forget Mai's lecture once and for all. This was fine with her, but curfew was looming and Cailla suspected she was already in Coach Isley's bad graces for having Maras staying at her house planetside in that blizzard when he was on strict curfew.

Meanwhile Maras was watching Cailla with growing amusement. She looked cuter than Mai ever did, sitting there all twisted around at the waist so she could both face him and still sit on that damned remote. Mai done good introducing him to Cailla when he said he wanted to find a wife. Sitting there like that had pulled the far side of her pretty purple blouse out of her pants. That temporarily distracted Maras. Did she know purple were his next favorite color to turquoise? Or did she just like it too? Anyway, she looked real pretty, and twisting sideways had made some of her hair fall forwards over her shoulders. He just might consider making a pass at her, except she had her jaw set exactly the way she did before she really cross-checked someone. He suspected that was exactly what she was working up to with him.

He grinned. "I suppose I'd better called Tedia or you'll sit on that damned control until curfew."

Startled, Cailla nodded, then flushed. Had she been that transparent? "Thank you. Please call him."

She was so cute. He could watch the way her pale skin changed color for hours. He rose, chuckling. "And I'll ask him here so's you can eavesdrop easier."

"Maras!" This time she blushed scarlet at the reference to her eavesdropping on him and Coach Isley.

Adorable. Maras let himself straighten one of the silky locks of hair on his way past.

*****

Chapter 2

"Tedia." Maras stepped back to let the kid in. He said Tedia right, like he always did, not all wrong like the kid did. He called himself Tuh-dye-yuh, not Ted-eye-ah like it should be. "We gotta talk about your playing so lousy."

Tedia looked warily through his thick lashes at the massive black man who had become team captain. The eyes behind those lashes didn't miss much, and Tedia wasn't stupid. He knew that despite the jokes and grumbling about Maras being stupid, most of the team members highly respected his abilities in the Octagla court and management would listen to everything he said. He had also figured out immediately that Maras did not like him at all.

Now, he was trying to gauge Maras's mood, but he couldn't. Maras should be doing his thundercloud routine, but he looked like he was in a decent mood. He was still dressed up too, his bulk encased in the very expensive purple and green patterned suit that had startled Tedia when Maras took it out of his locker after the game. It had made Tedia feel underdressed, that he should at least have pulled on something better than his old green T-shirt. The problem was that he didn't have anything better. The way he dressed was the way all the guys on the Planetary Pro teams at Laurion dressed, and they ridiculed anything else. His mother had nervously shopped and filled a suitcase for him but he was not wearing a single item! Not what she chose! He'd been intending to start dressing more like his new teammates who all looked classy. But it looked like he'd saved himself trouble and money not getting to a store yesterday. That was probably why Maras was in a good mood. He'd probably overheard management saying they were letting Tedia go. It was almost trade deadline.

Tedia's eyes dropped. "I know." He shrugged his frustration. "I really tried Maras. I did. But nothing works." His eyes came back up. "When you called I was trying to get my nerve up to ask Coach Isley when he did the curfew calls if he was going to send me back down, and say he should."

The kid had more sense than he'd thought. Maras had figured the kid were so sure of himself he weren't even seeing a problem. "That's what I think should happen," Maras said bluntly. "But Cailla here," he jerked his head towards the sitting room, "thinks I'm wrong. So I said we'd talk to keep her happy."

Cailla? The name meant nothing to Tedia. He had to step sideways to see past Maras's bulk. He saw the gorgeous blonde sitting on the sofa who had been in the hall outside the locker room and belatedly remembered Larr teasing Maras about him having another hot date and Maras looking smug. No wonder. The blonde was as dressed up as Maras in some kind of fancy evening pajamas, which accounted for Maras's clothes. But not his mood. If Tedia had been on a date like this, which so far he hadn't managed, getting it interrupted to talk shop would have made him furious. Better to clear out and fast before Maras swung that way and got dangerous.

"Hello, Tedia." Cailla tried to smile encouragement. Tedia had that frightened young animal look again.

"Hello Cailla. Thanks for worrying about me." And he wasn't even going to try to figure out why she would. There wasn't time. "But Maras is right. I'm not integrating, and the team has to get rid of me before they blow the finals. I expect that's hard to understand, not playing." Time to leave, fast. He could feel Maras behind him, breathing on his head and his face paled even more.

Cailla listened with a little frown. Tedia's voice was musical, fast, and hard to understand, but she got the drift. "It's a professional opinion, Tedia," she said firmly. "I'm first string outer right wing, Pendrae Nebula." With half her mind she saw a similar frown of concentration on his face.

"I don't believe it!"

Before Maras or Cailla realized what he was doing, Tedia stepped forward and grabbed a piece of citrus fruit from a bowl then threw it, not at her but at the cushion beside her, full force, with that strange twist he used to lob an Octagla ball.

Cailla caught it effortlessly and threw it straight back at him. But since she knew perfectly well he could catch it, she aimed for the center of his forehead.

Tedia did make the catch, but he also embarrassed himself by instinctively ducking and heard Maras chuckle behind him. He gave Cailla an engaging grin. "Now I believe you." He reached to replace the fruit.

Cailla stood up. "Before you put it back Tedia, repeat that throw. I want to see exactly what you did." She got that puzzled frown again, and this time it registered. "Toss it." She held out her hand.

Tedia was confused, but he threw it again with Cailla watching every move he made. Then to his embarrassment she stood up and tried to duplicate the twist four times, but stopped short of the throw each time. She wasn't getting it right. She did succeed in totally pulling her blouse loose, something Maras obviously didn't mind at all by the look on his face. She was gorgeous. Tedia tried to not look at her. He'd live longer that way.

"I like to think I'm good, but I can't do that," Cailla announced, absentmindedly starting to peel the fruit. As her thumbnail dug into the thick rind the room was filled with strong citrus scent.

"It simply doesn't feel natural, and it must take forever to master. Is it something you had to learn to be a roof runner Tedia?"

His amber eyes were suddenly wide and innocent. "Roof runner? What gave you that idea Cailla?"

"The way you play," Cailla said dryly, looking for somewhere to throw the peel.

The kid were stalling. Maras stepped past him to stand beside Cailla. "You roof run Tedia?" Maras asked harshly.

Tedia was looking at the floor, and a nervous tongue touched his lips. He'd been warned by his Juvenile coach who had stayed his mentor when he moved to Junior that Tamara hadn't roof run since Rall and Torin's era, and to do what the coach said and keep his mouth shut about his gift until he was established. But he didn't want to lie to the team captain either.

Maras, you're scaring him, Cailla thought. But she didn't say so. That would cost both men face. Instead she took a step sideways closer to Maras and slipped an arm around his waist. "If you can, Tedia, that's great." She kept the words simple and spoke slowly in unaccented Comlan, both for Maras's and Tedia's benefit. "Maras can play to a roof runner."

"You can?" Tedia's face was one delighted grin. "I didn't know."

"Can." Maras found his own smile echoing Tedia's. "I played with one for a year, Terra planetary." This was said with real pride. The one with the gift might be the roof runner, but it took a lot of work to learn to play with them. Maras always figured that were why some guys didn't like them. They was lazy. The idea of jealousy never entered Maras's head.

Suddenly Tedia's face fell. "But what good is it if I just can't play with you and Larr?" The words were tumbling out now in that singsong voice. "I mean Maras, it isn't that I don't try. I'm up half the night going over the games, and –"

"Tedia – please!" Cailla held up a hand to stop the spate of words. "I'm sorry Tedia, but I can't understand a word you're saying." She turned to Maras. "Can you?"

"Nah. The kid's like that every time he gets wound up. No one can make sense of him but Marco. Maybe Greg."

Tedia blushed scarlet. He'd thought it was only that he couldn't understand the team, not that they couldn't follow him either.

"Well, I want to understand," Cailla said firmly. "Let's try something." She let go of Maras's waist and touched her wristcuff. "I'm turning my translator on. Maras. Turn yours on too."

"You gonna talk something else?" Maras had no idea how many languages Cailla were fluent in. He only knew ComLan and a couple gang argots.

"No."

That left him even more confused. "You gonna translate ComLan into ComLan?" That made no sense at all.

"Maras! Just do it! I'll explain in a minute."

He grinned and shrugged. She were real cute when she was cranky.

Cailla waited until she saw him do it. "Try it too Tedia. I suspect you haven't always understood things."

"Not much," he conceded, a look of relief on his face. He'd followed Cailla's action as soon as she'd done it. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Well?" Maras demanded of Cailla, more interested in why his translator was on than in Tedia.

"I don't think Tedia understands you any more than you understand him, Maras. Your accents are just too different."

"He talks funny," Maras agreed.

"And so do you to him." That got her a 'what did I do to deserve that' look that Cailla decided to let pass. "But most of us don't think of ComLan is anything but ComLan. I mean, we might translate say ComSci into ComLan, but most of us assume we can speak and understand ComLan."

"Most of us can." This lecture was getting boring, and it sounded funny hearing both Cailla and a translator when he understood her just fine.

"All the same, the translator company has two thousand nine hundred and four different ComLan voices it distributes around the galaxy."

"You mean we aren't all getting the same voice in our heads now?" Maras asked skeptically.

"That's right. They don't tell you. They just give you the voice that matches the region you're from."

"So how come you know there's two thousand nine hundred and four of them?" Maras demanded. He was getting pretty picky that numbers be precise as he had more and more money to keep track of.

"Because the first time I tried publishing a poem off-world the editor bounced it. He said that poetry had to read well aloud, and it only sounded good in a Terran-like accent, like Pendrae, so the market was limited. I'd had no idea. But he said to do what all the inter-planetary authors do, get the full voice set, and have their poetry read to them in it by the computer."

"You listened to all two thousand nine hundred and four voices? That's a lot of work." Maras was impressed. This poetry stuff were harder than he thought.

Cailla smiled. "Only once. I now know the ones I sound worst in, and I just worry about them."

Maras turned to Tedia. "She's real good poet."

"Is that why you –" Tedia stopped abruptly at the scowl, wondering what he'd done now.

The kid were too damned snoopy, always wandering around watching everyone. He must have read what were on his compad, Maras decided. He were still trying at that Octagla poem, but it were real hard and he wasn't going to show Cailla until he got it right.

Cailla looked from face to face, wondering what was wrong now. She decided not to ask. Instead, she said to Tedia, "Why don't we all sit down? It's easier to talk that way." She broke off part of the fruit and gave it to him.

"Thank you." Tedia took the fruit, wondering if he dared say he didn't like it. Probably not, and at least the lady was being nice to him. He sat down on the very edge of the chair nearest the door.

Maras did not like this move. He did not like Cailla feeding the kid. And if they all sat down and started talking, odds were they'd still be yapping at curfew. Then how would he get any time alone with Cailla?

"Maras." She applied an encouraging pressure to his waist. He didn't budge. "Suit yourself." Cailla went to sit on the couch.

She was almost there when Maras realized the major flaw in his strategy. She was obviously going to sit on the remote again. He just barely got there in time to retrieve it, and treasure in hand he sat down too. He put the remote down on his side of the couch. If they got rid of Tedia pretty fast, there might be time to watch the really good fight scene between the two gangs.

"Tedia." As she spoke Cailla broke off a segment of citrus, carefully removed all traces of rind, and handed it to Maras. "Have you been having enough trouble with the language you haven't understood all the instructions in the dressing room or on the bench?"

That were real nice, Cailla treating him special and fixing up the piece of fruit like that. Maras put it in his mouth, biting cautiously to not get a choking squirt of juice down his throat. But it were all right, so he went ahead and chewed it. You threw one of those things around too much with an Octagla stick like Larr liked to do between periods and you really juiced it.

Cailla had her answer in Tedia's shamefaced look.

"I really tried. And Cailla," it was easy to talk to the lady, "I did think I could speak ComLan. I mean, it isn't my first language, but I always did okay in it at school, and I never had problems with interviews in it." But then Latino was the first language for most people on Laurion, including the press.

Maras held out his hand, and Cailla gave him another segment of fruit. That were nice. He stretched out his legs, half listening to Tedia, half trying not too hard to figure out what to do with a roof runner you couldn't play to. He wasn't trying too hard because he still didn't like the kid. He chewed, and half listened. He held his hand out again.

Cailla took a look at the hand, and the fruit she was holding. She carefully broke off one segment for herself then plopped the rest into Maras's hand.

That wasn't what were supposed to happen! Maras looked at the offending piece of fruit that had disturbed a pleasant reverie that had drifted off Tedia and onto Cailla and the romantic potential of any time left once the kid left. That would be even better than the holodrama. Reverie broken, he actually heard some words.

"– so I just stayed up after the first game and watched it over and over, trying to figure the instructions out from what happened." Now that Tedia had a sympathetic audience he couldn't stop. "And I tried to just talk to the guys any time they weren't too busy. I figured if I listened enough maybe I'd get to know what they were saying."

Maras frowned. The kid wasn't just being a pest all the time? He were trying to figure out what was going on? Like he couldn't get the words right? Hell! Maras's mind went back to the year that had been like that for him, the year he'd played for Pendrae United. It had been bad, real bad.

*****

Chapter 3

Until he arrived to play with Pendrae United life had been going well for Maras. He'd been trading his way up, slowly establishing himself as more than a defenseman thug. Then had come what should have been a good trade, moving to Pendrae United after a season they came in second to Tamara. It had been a close series, and the whole Pendrae United team was determined to correct who won the next championship. But one of their defensemen had taken an injury that permanently retired him, and Maras had been brought in to take his place as the team enforcer.

Enforcer were fine by Maras. He played that aspect of defense however the coach said, and Coach Kendrix played mean. Fine. That were the job. But from square one nothin' had gone right. At the first meeting the team decided they didn't like Maras, and he weren't much excited about them either. Fine. Long as they played professional, he didn't need them as friends. But that were where the problem came, playing professional. How to do that? He'd tried, he'd really tried. But as well as playing mean, the Coach were the wired, talk steady type. He talked in the dressing room. He talked on the bench. He made, then changed, instructions from one minute to the next, all at light speed and in big words.

Maras didn't understand half of it. And Kendrix were definitely not the type you questioned. Not that guy! Maras shivered at his mental image of the taut hard-chinned face, contorted with fury. Fury at him. If he'd had a mate on the team, he'd have asked him what were going on, but he didn't. So, he'd had to guess. He'd had a lot of experience by then, and he spent a lot, an awful lot of the lonely hours in his room studying old games. So a lot of the guesses was right. But some wasn't, and when he screwed up he heard about it good. The abuse came so fast he couldn't get a word in edgewise. He'd just stood there, glowered, and taken it. Not long into the year Kendrix had decided he were the smart ass, know it all type, and no one on the team argued. Two weeks later he were cut, and they brought someone up from planetary level. Were tough that, left unemployed and wondering if that were the end of his career 'cause of the words Kendrix said to the press. It had been a bad scene until Isley approached him, hired him, and taught him how to integrate with a team.

Coming out of his reverie Maras found Tedia still earnestly repeating himself. He seemed to be getting himself good and worked up too, goin' by the way the hand that weren't holding fruit was moving steady. Maras turned to look at Cailla. That were a kind of glazed, desperate look like she wanted to stop him but couldn't. She hadn't even eaten her one piece of fruit either. His were long gone.

Maras really hated to admit it, but he'd done wrong by the kid. He'd thought that Tedia were just a smart ass, know it all pest. But he'd been having a rough time, just like his own bad year. Tedia was just handling it different. Well, when you did wrong by someone there were nothing for it. Like them or not, you apologized and made it right.

"Tedia!" Maras spoke loudly into the middle of a sentence. Tedia jumped, and Cailla gave him a grateful squeeze on the knee. That were nice. "You mean to say you been playing not sure what's going on?"

"I really tried Maras." Tedia was scared now. The woman seemed nice, but Maras had just sat there frowning.

"It's not your fault." Maras was uncomfortable with this, and he frowned harder, trying to get it right. "There's nothing wrong with not understanding words. It don't make you stupid or nothin'."

Maras had taken that message from Isley very much to heart, and it had helped him a lot. It had even given him the confidence to write that Octagla poem he wanted Cailla to eventually have when it were just right.

"But Tedia, I got to apologize. I done real wrong by you. I had a bad year like you once too. Didn't catch a word and got myself cut. I shoulda seen you was doin' the same, and helped you. I'd have told you that Coach Isley is a good guy. He don't mind explaining when you don't quite catch something."

The frown deepened. It bothered him that Isley hadn't been on top of the problem. "In fact, it's kind of funny he didn't talk to you about it when you joined the team, like he did me." Maras felt obliged to defend his hero. "I expect it's because so much is wrong all at once, and it slipped his mind. But that's okay. We'll just tell him and he'll fix it up."

Maras came to a full stop, rather proud of one of the longest speeches he'd made in his life. Cailla gave his knee another squeeze, this time of approval, and when he looked at her she was beaming at him. That was real nice. But the kid were just sitting there, his mouth a little bit open.

He asked solicitously, "Didn't you get all that?" Maras wasn't sure that translator trick did everything. After all, he didn't catch everything people said and he spoke ComLan just fine.

Tedia gave that question serious consideration in his agile mind. Given the disparity between the context of the words and the frown on Maras's face, plus the trouble he thought he was in, he wasn't sure. Maybe the meaning of the words on Laurion had drifted, as well as the accent. He said cautiously, "I'm not sure Maras."

Maras beamed at him. "That's real good Tedia. You should always say." Then he proceeded to say exactly the same thing slower and louder which of course did Tedia no good at all. But it was all he could think of to do, since he couldn't think of better words and he did want to help.

Cailla gave his knee another reassuring squeeze and this time she intervened. "Tedia, I know it's disorienting when you have to change your ideas quickly, but Maras does mean to be reassuring." She turned to Maras. "Did you really have a bad year like Tedia once?"

Maras nodded. "Terrible. Pendrae United. I couldn't understan' Kendrix, and none of my mates liked me, so's they didn't help. So I got canned. But it turned out good because that's when Isley picked me up. So now we's got to make things good for Tedia too." He was starting to take a certain possessive, almost paternal interest in that project.

Both Tedia and Cailla looked at him with a certain wariness which Maras didn't notice because he was busy thinking.

"Tedia," he asked abruptly, "Cailla here says she don't think you're reading Larr and me too good on the court either."

This time Tedia was more than embarrassed. He squirmed. "I'm working on it Maras. I rewatch each game as many times as I can."

"That's real good." Maras approved. There was nothin' like doing things again and again. "But Larr and me got an edge, cause we've paired off and on since I joined the team. In fact, all the time 'til Ranga showed up." He stopped, considering, while his audience waited. "So what we got to do is get you some extra practice, just the three of us, 'til you get the hang of it."

Tedia felt disoriented again. "You wouldn't mind?"

"I like to practice," Maras said simply.

"Not just the three of you," Cailla interrupted. "Take Roban along. He can tell Tedia what he's supposed to be looking for."

Maras nodded. It were a good idea. Grinning with anticipation he added, "And I'll see how I can still pass to a roof runner."

Cailla said, "I wonder if Larr can roof run for a whole game like Rall?"

Maras shrugged. "Know soon."

Tedia were looking lost again so Maras asked, "You don't know about who Larr is?"

"He's Larr – your outer left wing – he's played around a lot ..." Tedia trailed off searching his memory for what else he knew. Larr was an old guy, from before he really got into Octagla stats. After all, he was just a utility player who moved around and rarely made first string, so he wasn't exactly a super star. Tedia hadn't wasted his attention on Larr. He'd studied the super star wingers like Roban, Jaik, and Valskoa. "You mean he used to roof run at one point – but not for Tamara – they don't like them?" He stopped, spirits sinking.

If there was one thing that Maras knew, it was his Octagla history. "They should like it fine, Isley played one season with Rall."

"Rall! Wouldn't it have been something to see him." There was reverence in Tedia's tone. Rall was the greatest roof runner ever, and his personal hero. He was also arguably the best Octagla player of any sort in the last half-century – the kind of argument that fills a lot of pleasant hours and is never settled. Tedia knew where he stood, Rall was the best.

Maras looked at Tedia even more puzzled. "You didn't watch the Celebrity Game?"

Tedia shook his head. "No. We were in the court ourselves. A bunch of us were going to watch it afterwards, but before the game was over I got told to pack. I've meant to, but I've been reviewing our games instead – like I was told."

Maras nodded. It sure helped to know what the kid were saying. "Rall showed up at the last minute. Him and Torin played against us."

"Then I've got to watch it tonight!" Rall and Torin both back in a court. That was a dream. What an experience it must have been to play against them. Then a frown crossed Tedia's brow. "How come you aren't all still talking about it? I would be!"

"On account of Larr," Maras explained. "Rall's his dad, and they don't get on much. They was talking to each other some in the court though. Then they went for a beer, so's maybe it's getting better. I don't know." He shrugged. That were Larr's problem. "I sure liked talking to Rall." Maras smiled as he drifted into a reverie, replaying in his mind those treasured moments.

A gentle pressure on his knee brought him back to the present.

"Maras. Seriously, can Larr play with someone on the roof as well as run it himself? Just being Rall's son doesn't mean he can." Cailla tried to remember the Celebrity game. "I know when he went up after Rall he looked good against his father. And he looked good when he scored the winning goal on the roof tonight. But can he keep it up for a whole game, a series? Can he play with or to Tedia?"

"Dunno. He done good tonight," Maras said. "Was a time when just going up made him barf. So's all we can do is ask him. He's gotta know the moves anyhow." Maras frowned, continuing that line of thought. "Maybe," he said slowly, "he can do it fine now. He sure looked like his dad up there tonight an' in the Gingezel game.

"Looks a lot like his old man," he explained for Tedia's benefit. "Only you gotta see them together to know it. Otherwise you don't think so on account of that funny white hair. That's because his mama's blonde."

Then he realized the implication of that slip-up and shot a worried look at Cailla. She might never accept him if he'd get her funny looking kids like Larr. But she seemed to have not noticed so he hurried on. "I expect his going barfy on the roof pissed his dad off, so's he gave up on Larr. Odds are he can at least play to you."

Tedia nodded, still absorbing the news Larr was Rall's son. He wondered if he dared ask Larr about his hero, or if Maras was right and Larr and his dad didn't get on.

"So," Maras continued, "what we'll do is I'll call the guy what books the courts, and we'll all spend some time first thing in the morning. Then when we see how it goes we'll talk to Isley. Okay?"

"That would be great!" Tedia was too grateful to manage more.

"Good. It's almost curfew, so why don't you go get some sleep?" Maras said bluntly. If the kid left now, he'd still get some time with Cailla. Not enough to finish the holodrama, but maybe enough to work up to that kiss.

"Right." Tedia obediently rose. It didn't take any brains to read what Maras was thinking. "And thanks to you both for taking time from your evening for me."

"That's okay," Maras said generously. He was softening on the kid. Said thanks nice just there.

"I should go too." Cailla rose. "Tedia can see me to the elevator."

What the hell did she do that for, was the thought in two male minds, for totally different reasons.

Maras was surprised, and hurt that Cailla wanted the evening to end a moment earlier than it had to.

Tedia was simply thinking of his odds of survival. He'd seen the flash of irritation on Cailla's face that Maras had missed when he said Larr looked odd. So he wasn't surprised she was leaving, but she could have not placed in the middle of problems. Maras was obviously not pleased at all.

He said tactfully, "I'd be honored, Miss Cailla, if Maras doesn't mind. I'll wait for you in the seating area down the hall." He turned and left, uneaten fruit in hand.

Maras looked at the retreating back with approval. The kid weren't half dumb when you knew what he was saying. As the door shut, he rose and said to Cailla, "You don't have to go."

"I think I do." It was totally ridiculous, she told herself, to be upset by Maras's remark. After all, they weren't a couple. He hadn't even so much as tried to kiss her, she'd kissed him. But she thought that was because of Mai, not because she was white. Still, Maras had been very good to her, and she didn't want to be rude. So she said, "It's late, and it will take you time to call Larr and Roban, and set up a court."

Reluctantly Maras nodded. She were right. Still, he gave it one last try. "It's been a real nice night Cailla."

It had been. "And you've been very good to Tedia. Thank you Maras." She smiled and stepped closer.

Maras sighed. He knew exactly what were coming next. She'd get up on the tips of her toes and kiss each cheek like they was in public. Yup. As her lips brushed his cheek, suddenly it wasn't good enough. Maras put both arms around her for a real kiss, ready to let go and apologize at the least sign of offense. But there wasn't any. Cailla leaned into him, and he let himself concentrate on the kiss. She felt so good. A hand slipped under the loose blouse to the smooth bare skin on her back, and was stopped. Gently, but firmly stopped.

Maras froze, mortified. What had he gone and done something stupid like that for? "Sorry Cailla," he muttered, dropping both arms to his side.

"Why?" Cailla replaced the hand on her back, outside her clothes. "It's just – that it's almost – curfew." There were pauses in the sentence because she was still nibbling on him.

It was getting through to Maras that she didn't mind, not at all. In fact, if she kept that up ... he distanced himself a bit. "Who's talking about curfew?"

Cailla blushed.

She were so pretty. Maras stroked the blonde hair. "I like you real good Cailla." There, he'd said it.

"Even if I'm blonde?" Hell, why had she said that? She'd ruin everything.

But Maras was running his hand through her long hair. "It's real pretty." He'd totally forgotten his remark about Larr. He pulled her close for another kiss.

It was obvious he meant it, and after that kiss there was no doubt what he thought about her. Cailla decided to write that crack about Larr off as something specific Maras had against Larr, even though she personally thought Larr strikingly handsome. Then they both decided to keep Tedia waiting and forget curfew for a few more moments.

*****

Chapter 4

Coach Isley always breakfasted in the coffee shop of whatever portel the team was staying in. His routine never varied. He walked through the door at 7:10 after his morning workout, freshly showered and shaved, every strand of his thinning blond hair in place. He requested a table for two in a quiet area where he could watch the door. Once seated he asked for one of the four breakfasts he had discovered kept his weight down, his energy up, and no portel kitchen could ruin even on a bad day. He then went over his schedule for the day and waited, not for his breakfast but to see who would join him.

In all of the years since he started this process he had rarely eaten alone. Invariably someone on or associated with the team would walk up and say, 'Oh, there you are Isley. Want company?' He would of course say yes, as that was the point of this habit, to provide somewhere less public than the dressing room and less intimidating than his office on the space yacht where people could talk to him. He'd heard about family celebrations, achievements, and problems. He'd heard about what a player's worries and aspirations were, on and off court. He'd collected gossip, and once or twice had heard a tip that had lead to a very good team acquisition.

There was one sure rule; if someone really had a problem they showed up almost on his heels before anyone else could claim him. Isley sincerely hoped this would not happen this morning. He didn't want another problem. He wanted gossip and relaxation before he called the farm teams to see about replacing Tedia. He had mentally narrowed the list of journeymen down to three, all men he knew. So he just needed to talk to the coaches to see who was on an upswing and who was flat at the moment. They were all seasoned players who had done a stint at the Galactic Pro level and slipped back to planetary pro either because of limited potential or because they were getting older. But they would know how to handle the playoff pressure and he needed stability right now.

Isley felt bad for Tedia. The young man was trying so hard, and he had looked like the best bet to replace Ranga. But a mistake was a mistake. Tedia had almost cost them a slot in the semi finals, and the overtime had Chan in the hospital from space sickness. First he would call about -

"Isley, can I join you?" Larr slipped in front of the waitress with an apologetic smile and all the agility he showed in the court.

Larr. That just might be a speed record. Isley hadn't even ordered yet. He forced a smile as he thought of the intimidating number of problems Larr, his best utility player now on first string for the coming series, could be having and their severity. Mutely he nodded, unconsciously stroking his tidy moustache like he did when he was worried.

Larr slid into the free seat, glancing around. Plants partially screened them from the room and the neighboring tables were empty. Good. "What are you having?"

"Number 3."

Larr took a quick glance at the menu. "Make that two of them," he said to the waitress. He and Isley agreed on what was edible in portels.

While Larr finished his order adding additional protein and his favorite rolls, Isley tried to read his face. His voice was pleasant, his easygoing defense against the galaxy smile was in place. He was showered, shaved, and wide awake. Isley would have said he'd had a workout already except that Larr hadn't been in the gym. All of that told him absolutely nothing. All the same, Isley sensed suppressed excitement.

"Well?" Larr asked, amused.

"Well what?"

"You were studying me."

Larr relented. Isley had been through a bad enough time lately. He said seriously, "What shape is your budget in?"

Isley brightened. Larr knew pretty well everyone in the league and a lot of good players were friends of his. There were always good players on teams that hadn't made the playoffs who would be happy for a trade. How willing they were to make that fact known depended on their current situation and contract options. Sometimes an oblique approach was used, a friend of a friend, someone they were comfortable with. That would be better than a planetary journeyman.

"Tight, but I can get the money I need to. Do you know someone who would like to trade to us for the playoffs?"

So Tedia was definitely getting cut. Until two hours ago Larr would have been cheering. He shook his head.

"Good guess, but wrong. I would like Rall brought in as an assistant coach. If you're strapped for credits I can ask him to do me a favor ..." Larr trailed off, temporarily discouraged by the number of favors he'd been asking his father for since his son was born. He realized Isley was watching him and continued. "If you can bring him in officially that would be better."

So Larr didn't know anyone who was looking for a trade. Well, this was interesting in itself.

"So you've decided to give roof running a try after last night and your surviving the Celebrity game? I'm glad," Isley said simply. He'd always felt Larr might be underrating himself. It was late in his career for a major change of style, but Isley liked Larr and he'd back him. The Celebrity Game had brought back the past, seeing Larr and Rall on the roof. They were so much alike: the solid well muscled build, their focus, even some of their moves. Larr had more height from his mother though and was overall the larger man. Isley knew some coaches had even put him in defense for a few minutes when they wanted a defenseman who could carry the play into the other end if they got the ball.

Larr in turn had been watching Isley's face. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, and yes, if it suits you I'm going to run roof. But Rall isn't for me. I'll survive up on the roof, but I sure as hell won't win us the championship. The one who could win it and really needs Rall is Tedia."

Isley blinked. That was so far from what he expected that he was reasonably sure he'd heard it wrong.

"Tedia", Larr repeated. "That's a big part of why he's been screwing up. He plays best on the roof, and that's how he likes to set up his angles. I've just spent an hour in a practice court with him and Maras and Roban." Larr was grinning. "The kid is a dream. That's why we need Rall. He's as at home up there as Dad ever was but maybe better because he has the kind of moves Roban has. Keep him around Isley, and you're looking at that three-peat, and he's maybe a Hall of Famer down the road."

Isley waited until the breakfasts were served then shook his head to clear it. "I had no idea. No one has mentioned he runs roof. The word was just that he was the next Roban, and in the games I watched he looked good, real good. That's why I've been stalling, to see if that star quality showed. But it hasn't." He poked at his cereal with a spoon, then left the spoon in it, the cereal untasted. If Larr said the kid was as good as Rall or Roban ...

"You know I was going to find a replacement for him today and send him down?"

"That was overdue, wasn't it?" Larr shrugged. "He's been lousy. And you've tried - given him more of a chance than anyone expected. We all just lucked out that Maras figured it out before you did send him down."

"Maras? I assumed Tedia was talking to you about Rall and things slipped out. How did Maras figure it out?" He'd heard Maras's public criticisms of Tedia. They were brutal.

"I honestly have no idea. He just called me and announced he done wrong by the boy, and he's making it right. For sure Tedia never volunteered it to him. Maras seems to have taken Tedia on as a project and I think that has Tedia scared worse than when he was bad mouthing him. Tedia kind of likes to keep three meters or so away from Maras, and now Maras wants to be close enough to give him an encouraging thump at regular intervals." Larr was chuckling at the memory of the wary Tedia not daring to offend Maras.

Isley almost smiled, but he was feeling too sick thinking of the mistake he had almost made. He took another jab at the cereal and put the spoon down again.

"Isley, don't be hard on yourself. Tedia did let slip he was deliberately hiding the fact he was a roof runner. Some mentor from his juvenile days gave him a real 'do what the coach says and keep your mouth shut' lecture and he took it very literally. Despite all of us telling him you'll be thrilled, he's scared. That's why I said I'd sound you out."

"Some mentor!" Isley shook his head. "Hiding a skill like that!"

"Be fair," Larr said. "You know as well as I do a roof runner can have a bad time. Look at Rall's first-year pro." Larr had heard a lot of stories about that year.

Isley sighed. "You're right. Besides, being angry with myself is a useless waste of time. We build on what you found."

"First," Larr said, "let's get all of the being angry with yourself over with. I know I'm really kicking myself on this one. The other reason Tedia has been screwing up is he hasn't understood half of what we said. And," Larr rolled his eyes, "he hasn't had the brains to use a translator or the nerve to ask for clarification!"

After this morning he wasn't surprised that Tedia hadn't had the nerve to ask. With the easy smile and all his hanging around people Larr hadn't realized he was shyer than Roban. Then he shook his head.

"Sorry Isley, that was unfair to Tedia. In the first place playing on a court with a translator on can be disorienting. You were a journeyman and played for most planets. You know you lose a bit of your edge if you have to play that way. I know too because I've had to do it a quite a few times. And if you think you know a language you don't think you need translation.

"But that Latino accent of his was doing him in. I thought it was just a speech pattern and since speaking Latino doesn't bother me I never thought twice. But for Tedia a heavy accent like that is all he can catch. He and I tried it. I'd say things in standard ComLan, then say the same thing with a strong Latino accent. Night and day. I'd guess all he understood was Carlos, and that's why he's been keeping close to him."

Isley groaned. "I see what you mean about kicking yourself. Well, we'll have to correct that. When I'm speaking to him privately I'll use Latino. And in the dressing room or in the box, you, or Big Luis, Carlos, or Greg can translate if he's afraid he'll forget and leave his translator on for the court and get disoriented." They were all fluent in Latino.

But Larr was shaking his head. "No need. He's translating Comlan into ComLan with a Latino accent now and says it isn't too disorienting, not like ComLan to Latino would be."

Isley stared at Larr. "You aren't telling me that was Maras's idea." He had never thought of, or heard of, translating ComLan into ComLan and he thought he knew all the tricks of integrating players from different cultures.

"No. Bless Cailla. Apparently she's a poet and her editor has her listen to variants of ComLan. I gather there are significant differences."

Isley observed he seemed to be increasingly in the debt of a woman he had yet to meet. "She seems to be good for Maras," he observed.

"At least until we hit the finals," Larr agreed.

"I don't follow you?"

"Unless a miracle happens we'll end up against Pendrae United again. Then Jaik will have a go at killing Maras."

"Cailla is one of Jaik's women?" Galaxy! That was just what he needed.

"Definitely not." Larr wanted a fast end to any such thoughts. "That's the problem. If she had been he probably wouldn't care. But he's been after Cailla since before I played with Pendrae United. The word going around is he's livid about Maras. For years he's been telling himself - and the Galaxy in general - that she frosts all Octagla players and that's why she's been icing him. Professional conflict, that sort of thing. For sure he can't fly that now."

Isley shrugged. "First we have to get through the semi-finals."

"Too true. So how about Rall?"

"By all means. Would you prefer I call him?"

"I think so."

"Your mom will come too, of course," Isley said without thinking. "She only missed two playoff games of Rall's, the ones when your sister was due."

"Well ... I'm not so sure it's convenient for her," Larr said.

This little farce had been run long enough. "Come on Larr. You used to crawl around the hall outside the dressing room when you were a lot younger than your son. He's old enough for space travel, and he's a fine sturdy looking lad."

Larr stared at Isley, half angry, half resigned. "You've known about Little Al all along? You just let me act like an idiot?"

"I've kept our business relationship businesslike," Isley corrected him. "But if you're wanting your mother to miss something that would really matter to her, that isn't business. Ingar is a friend of mine." Since Larr looked headed for a difficult mood Isley added, "Come on Larr. There isn't anything wrong with being a single father. The galaxy is full of them."

"Orchid sure made me feel I did something wrong," Larr said bitterly.

"Are you still in love?" Rall had said he honestly didn't know.

"No. At least I don't think so. Oh, I don't know." Larr shrugged. "Mostly I'm embarrassed for being a fool."

Isley thought of the images he had seen of Orchid. Black, beautiful, exotic, with a model's build. Sultry eyes a man could get lost in. "You won't be the last."

"No." Isley was being good about this. He had better come clean. "Look, Isley this really isn't a good idea. Orchid keeps threatening negative publicity, so I've kept a real low profile. Having little Al here would be just what she wants."

"To hit you for even more money by threatening to say you forced her?" Isley asked matter-of-factly. He'd heard the whole story, and that Larr was letting himself be blackmailed.

Larr said evenly, "That's right."

"Did you?"

"Isley!!"

"It's happened," Isley said dryly. "And she really is something. I'll take that as a sincere no?"

"You'd better, or you'll be replacing another player!"

"She really has you going, hasn't she? Relax Larr."

"Relax?" Larr asked incredulously.

"Yes, relax. Bring your son here. Enjoy him. They grow up so fast. You'll hate yourself if you miss this stage. And if she tries anything, the team has a whole publicity staff in place for damage control. They could start with what kind of a mother would abandon her son to someone she knew was no good. It's a non-issue, Larr."

"If you say so." Larr was unconvinced.

"Look," Isley said realistically, "at least you have an Octagla Hall of Famer for a father. Look at Ranga. His dad's a 'pharmaceutical magnate'." Isley was not saying drug lord in a restaurant even though the adjoining tables were still empty for once.

Larr couldn't help it, he laughed. "Poor Isley. You do have your problems. And here you thought they hired you to coach!"

*****

Chapter 5

"What took so long?" Tedia demanded before the door to his cramped room was closed behind Larr.

"Isley and I ate breakfast. Relax – it's all fine." Larr didn't bother to ask Tedia if he'd eaten. He just walked to the cater unit and punched in the code for the liquid breakfast he stuck to when his own stomach was knotted with nerves.

"Here." He tossed the beverage pack at Tedia. "You're going to the playoffs – hey! Sit down before you spill something." Larr was speaking Latino so Tedia wouldn't get things wrong, then realized Tedia was probably translating. "Turn the translator off and shift to speaking Latino, okay? We'll cover ground faster that way."

With shaking fingers Tedia turned his translator off. "You were so long. I decided you must have been wrong and Isley was sending me down."

With a face and a shrug Larr acknowledged the possibility of that interpretation. "The restaurant was deserted so he got off on strategy. Sorry. But I didn't want to interrupt him."

Tedia shrugged in turn and tried a swallow. "So?"

"Other than the fact Isley is kicking himself, it's all good. Right now he's calling Rall to see if he'll come coach –"

"Rall? Rall might coach me?" Then Tedia flushed, remembering what Maras had said about Larr not getting on with his father. "Do you mind?" He surreptitiously searched Larr's face behind his long lashes.

Larr grinned. "Tedia, don't you ever relax? It was my suggestion. Maybe he'll teach me something too. I might finally be mature enough to learn."

"You mean you'll be on the roof with me?" Tedia rewarded Larr with one of his real smiles. That had been so much fun, being on the roof with Larr this morning.

"If I'm up to Isley and Rall's standards." Larr looked at the almost untouched container in Tedia's hand. He'd snapped off the lid, taken a swallow, and that was it. "Try to get it down Tedia. Isley wants to see you in his office on the yacht in an hour and a half. Then you and I are supposed to spend the time between his seeing you and the team practice doing strategy, thinking about how to play together. Then he wants a special practice like this morning after regular practice, but with Tarell in goal. You'll need calories."

"Isley wants to see me?" Tedia gave the breakfast container a dubious look as his stomach lurched.

"Yeah. I'll walk you there – there's a bit of a maze to get to the yacht once you've taken the elevator to the space station core." That would make sure Tedia didn't chicken out. "I think he wants to sort out communications so there aren't any more screw ups. I told him you were fine translating ComLan to ComLan but he said he wants to see that work." Tedia visibly tensed at that, so Larr added, "Don't worry. If it doesn't work to his satisfaction, Isley, Big Luis, Marco, Greg, and I are fluent in Latino. We'll keep you filled in."

Tedia nodded warily. He didn't trust Larr's assessment it was all fine.

"Drink it, kid." Larr got a resigned look from under the long lashes.

"Si, Señor." Tedia took another swallow and decided the liquid would stay down. Larr was right. That had been a heavy workout already with Larr and Maras and Roban. He took two more swallows. "Do you know what else he wants?"

Larr shrugged. "I expect that depends on what Rall says." He stared at the image of a beach on the wall a meter from his face. After a while he focused. "Hmmm... Tedia... What kind of a contract did they bring you up with?"

"Provisional – trial to see if they liked me." The lopsided grin was there. "I almost blew that, didn't I?"

Larr nodded. "What I'm thinking is Isley will need to legally transfer you to the team for playoffs. Before you agree to anything, talk to your agent."

Tedia gave him a bemused headshake.

"I mean it Tedia. He may well want to sign you for next year too. Any idea what you're worth?"

"I only know what I'm worth Planetary."

"Well, I signed high because I was Rall's kid." Larr gave him the figures and watched the shock on Tedia's face. "Roban came in low because he'd never even played planetary pro, but it was still decent." Again Larr gave the figures. "Your agent up to those kinds of negotiations?"

His 'agent' had been his father and the family lawyer. "Forget it Larr. I won't get anything like that."

"You won't if you don't ask. See if that dragon lady of an agent Maras uses will take you, or Mercan's agent. He's a good guy, a Latino ex-pro."

Larr looked at the time strip on his wrist cuff. Tedia would never survive just sitting around and he looked like much more food wouldn't go down. "Look, there's time to get you a decent sweater so you look a little better for Isley."

He watched scarlet stain Tedia's cheeks. "Hey, that isn't a criticism. I assume you dress that way because Tony and Mikah are still the sports fashion arbiters on Laurion." They were two of the top planetary players there.

"Si." Then curiosity got the better of Tedia. "You know them?"

"I've played around enough know pretty much everybody. We've played together in the odd charity game, all star tournament, that sort of thing. Tony is full of himself, but Mikah is okay to go for a beer with. Now get a few more swallows down. I promise to not put you in anything loud like Maras would. But yesterday I was in the shop and they had a nice ribbed sweater in the sort of soft blues and beige Roban wears some."

Before a crucial game Larr had gone window shopping? Tedia took three more swallows.

***

"Isley." Rall was tired, and it showed in his black lined face. Between that and the gray now showing, he looked five or ten years older than he was. It had been his night to feed and bathe Little Al. That was an adventure at the best of times and tonight Al was cranky. Then once - if - they got the little guy in bed he had to spend a couple hours looking at a new Octagla stick shaft design. Rall had decided about seven months ago he was too old to be raising another kid, but what choice was there?

"Did I get you at a bad time?"

Rall reached a hand out, and it returned to line of sight holding a beer. "Not really."

"Please stay, Ingar." Isley said "This matters to you too."

"Nothing bad I hope!" Larr's mother moved into view, naked wide awake Little Al perched on her hip all ready for the fight about pajamas and bed.

"Not at all." Isley realized how tired they both looked. Ingar was looking slightly better than Rall, but that might be because she was an expert at makeup, and her blonde hair had obviously been recently styled. Larr's mother was working in the accessories section at a fashion boutique, the one she had worked in since Larr's sister left home. Rall was a consultant to a sports equipment maker. That left him the more flexible so he had become a house husband, raising Al but still consulting.

"I'll start with some news – Tedia –"

"Lousy," Rall said succinctly.

Isley nodded. "But not when you know he's a roof runner, and pretty much only knows Latino. Didn't get a single instruction I gave him correctly."

"Any good?"

"Watch this." Isley turned on the portions he had selected of the recording. He would send Rall the whole recording to watch at his own pace.

Isley blessed Roban for having the court staff record the practice. It even moved Roban up a bit in his favor. Right now he was at about zero for getting himself a season suspension going into playoffs. Replacing Roban was the toughest problem Isley had right now. The shy quiet blond farm boy could well have ended up the top scorer in the league this year and MVP. So he was very unpopular for that suspension. Although if he was being fair, which Isley did not feel obliged to be on this point, if it had been a friend of his hurt on the court as badly as Daron, he would have taken a suspension too by going after the guy who did it. Roban got even more points for not telling Tedia they were recording him so he was relaxed. As Larr had said when he handed over the memory pac, Roban had done it in case Tedia choked later in the formal practice.

Rall watched in total absorption. "He's good." He was nodding to himself. "Very good."

Isley let a long slow breath out with relief. He knew he'd seen good play from Tedia in those holograms, but Rall was the ultimate judge on just how good 'good' was.

"And Larr?" Isley asked.

Ingar came over to rest her free hand on Rall's shoulder. Isley could see the tension in her face, and Little Al squirmed in her tightened grip.

"Play it again." Rall watched in total absorption again, this time focusing on his son.

"He hasn't got the moves Tedia has," Rall said bluntly.

"But?"

"He's not bad."

"Would you like to come coach the pair of them – see if you can get me that three-peat? If you say yes, I'll get the money from Marti."

"Oh, Rall!" Ingar's smile was radiant and took ten years off her lovely face.

Rall shook his head. "You've got your work, and I've got to take care of Little Al here."

Isley intervened. "Larr says to bring Little Al." He'd expected a positive reaction but both grandparents were gravely silent.

At last Rall said, "Larr isn't thinking. The press will be all over him."

Isley said, "It was my idea. I told Larr this charade has run long enough. My PR people are good at spin control. So far they have the Kulgalu connection under control."

It was Ingar who broke the impasse between the two men. "You always did have sense, Isley. I've told myself we're doing the right thing protecting both Larr and Little Al. Orchid really is the type who can make trouble. But Larr is missing so much that's important with Little Al the age he is." She bit her lip, smudging the lipstick in one corner. "Perhaps it would be best though if Little Al and I joined the team when the series shifts to Tamara. Pendrae fans and press are hostile right now."

Isley smiled. "You were always sensible too."

"Sensible!" Rall snorted. "And just who is going to take care of Little Al until then?"

"He's old enough a few days at a child care agency won't hurt him. He'll probably think it's fun. And I do have plenty of leave if that doesn't work."

***

"Here he is, Isley" Larr pretty much shoved Tedia through the door of the team office on the space yacht. "How'd it go?" So Isley was now all dressed up with a team blazer over the sweater he'd been wearing at breakfast. That plus the opulence of the office should finish the kid off. Marti sure knew how to do a person and a room up to impress.

"Rall will be here day after tomorrow. Ingar will join us on Tamara. She thinks that's best."

Larr raised an eyebrow in question and tried to not be disappointed.

"Later –"

"It's okay." He had to get used to telling people. Larr turned to Tedia. "I'm a single dad. I have a son, a bit over a year old. His mother has threatened to cause a big stink in the press ever since he was born." Larr put two and two together. "That's why mom said Tamara, right? Friendly press?"

Isley nodded. "We can change that and they can come with Rall." He'd seen Larr's face fall at the news of the delay in how soon he would see his son.

Larr shook his head. "She's right. And Tedia and I can use the extra time with no distractions. Now, I'm out of here." Larr suited action to words and left.

"Tedia, please sit down." There was no need with the weightlessness of the space yacht, but it was more relaxed. Tedia was obviously still all nerves and uncomfortable in a brand new sweater, putting a finger in the neckline and tugging the cuffs. "Do you want me to speak ComLan or Latino?"

"Larr said you wanted to see if translating ComLan to ComLan works," Tedia said as he sat down on the edge of a chair. This was the first time he'd been alone with the coach in his office. It was a lot fancier than any office he had been in, not that the list was long. "I'm stupid. I should have thought of that."

"Then I'm stupid too," Isley said. "But please tell me any time you don't understand from now on."

Tedia nodded to the floor.

"You realize I was going to send you back."

Tedia nodded. "It was best. I was really bad."

"And now – do you think you can handle it?"

Tedia's eyes came up. "I can try. Our practice went a lot better, working with Larr using the translator trick." Then he was back studying his shoes.

Isley was about to say 'try' wasn't good enough for playoffs. Then he remembered the recording Roban had made of the practice and Rall's estimate of Tedia. He decided modesty and honesty were a big improvement over the sort of huge ego Red had. After talking to Rall, Isley had called Tedia's Planetary Junior coach and they'd had an honest discussion this time. The man had been expecting to get Tedia back, and had been very apologetic because he couldn't see why Tedia was screwing up. His accent had been heavier than Tedia's, and Isley doubted he would have understood a word if he wasn't fluent in Latino. Between that conversation and re-watching part of the video of the practice, Isley's guess was Tedia could more than handle things.

"Rall should be able to make things work for you and Larr. With the moves you have when you're on the roof –"

Tedia's head came up again at that.

"Roban cheated. He had the cameras on you," Isley said dryly. "I watched the practice, then Rall did. The guys didn't tell you so you wouldn't choke."

"Good, I think. Si?" Rall? He would have been unable to make a single move if he'd known it was being recorded for Rall.

Isley nodded. It was quite probable that otherwise he would never have believed Larr. Then he was serious again.

"Tedia, I can't guarantee you are on the team until you've shown you can work with it. After you're rested from today's team practice, I want to see you and Roban and Larr and Maras repeat what you did this morning but with Tarell in goal." He'd decided which of the three planetary journeymen he'd call if things didn't work. But what he really wanted was Tedia to show the moves he had in that practice – moves that made Roban look clumsy and Roban was the best winger in the league.

Tedia nodded. That was a lot more what he expected than Larr's 'it's fine'. He was just still not believing he had a second chance.

"But Tedia, signing deadline is getting very close. Assuming things work out, we need legalities finalized quickly. Please have your agent prepared for a contract offer for the playoffs and the following year with the same salary Roban came into the league at. We can negotiate bonuses for next year contingent on your playoff performance."

Roban's level with performance bonuses? Tedia swallowed hard. What agent had Larr said to get? The one Maras used? The one Mercan used?

*****

Chapter 6

"How is Chan?" Marti asked as she stepped through the door to Isley's office. Maybe the time since the game would have been easier if she'd been able to spend the night with Chan in the space station clinic, but he would never have relaxed in her presence. She had hardly slept thinking of the tall raw boned Oriental 'hero' who had got them into the playoffs. She knew Isley, the team, probably the whole galaxy saw him as a hero. She just saw it as the needless and deliberate injury of a good man. There were other seasons.

Isley looked warily at his employer, the petite fashion designer who had been blonde when she acquired the Tamara Octagla team in the process of a messy divorce. She was now fashionably gray. She was in her green 'Team Owner' pant suit, the color the team used on their uniforms and the color of his blazer. If he weren't so tired, Isley would try to decide what that meant. Usually Marti dressed in her fashion designer mode.

She made a good owner, but Marti simply could not relate to jocks at times. He'd tried to explain to her last night that he had not forced Chan into being the hero that won them the game. Explain that Chan had known and accepted the risk of space sickness. But he doubted she'd bought that. One thing for sure though, when Marti was in this mood blunt honesty was the only route.

"I stayed with Chan until he left. He's feeling like shit and it will get worse for several weeks before it gets better. Doc didn't give him anything illegal or that was a long-term risk to his health. The concern last night was that he'd go mean, paranoid. It happens. A guy is normal and all of a sudden certain electrolytes are so far off he tries to kill someone out on the court, or wherever he is. That would have been a real problem in the confines of the clinic or the space yacht he's on now. But about 5 AM GST the specialist said it was fine to put him on the yacht.

"So Chan is en route to Gingezel. He'll spend the trip soaking in electrolyte baths, and when he gets to the sports medicine clinic both Trevarr and Mai know how to handle space sickness. I gather she had problems herself when she played. I'm not surprised with her playing style, putting out all that extra nervous energy. Chan says if the weather is good when he gets there he'll spend his time on the beach, painting."

"Painting?" Marti's sculpted eyebrows rose.

"It appears we have two artists on the team, Ranga and Chan. Chan says he isn't any good, but I had him show me his work. I think he could exhibit. They are strong, raw abstracts. Lots of paint and slashes of color. Very powerful."

"Would he like to exhibit? I could arrange that – on Gingezel or Tamara." That at least was something she could do. All it would take was a couple calls.

Isley thought of Marti's upper end art friends. "Let him take that step at his own speed, when he's ready. If you want to do something for him, make it practical like doubling the playoff bonus he would have got."

Marti gave Isley a look. "Too tactful. What's wrong with an exhibition?"

"Your art friends would terrify him, if you want a blunt answer."

"Chan wouldn't terrify. He's one tough Octagla player."

"Confidence levels, Marti. Now, can we move on so I can quit being nervous?"

That was more like Isley. "I wondered when you'd get there."

"I need more money."

"To hire someone since Chan is out of the series? Or should I say two extra players? I assume you are sending Tedia back to the Junior farm team?" Marti had seen this coming and had calculated what she hoped was a reasonable budget.

Isley squirmed under the scrutiny and found himself playing with his blazer lapel. "Actually, no. I want to bring Rall in as assistant coach."

Marti chewed her lip. "Interesting – and no doubt expensive." It would be. Rall was one of the top ten all-time Octagla stars, a brilliant roof runner, twice in the Hall of Fame. "I take it Larr has finally decided to live up to his potential?"

"I think so. I'm less sure Rall thinks so."

"Then –"

"Marti, please sit down." It was just a social convention with the weightlessness but it would make him more comfortable.

Her arms crossed on her chest Marti remained standing, her face sculpted stone. "Isley, I've been through Daron getting his neck broken, Ranga getting his hand shattered, the bad PR from Ranga being a drug lord's son, that disastrous Tedia –"

"Tedia is why I wanted you sitting down. I want Rall to coach him." Isley activated the record of the practice Roban had made.

Marti did not sit. She stood and stared. If it weren't for the uniform number, and the fact Isley told her it was Tedia, she would have thought it was someone else. She found her tongue at last. "He's a roof runner."

"Rall says a very good roof runner. I showed Rall this because I'm not the expert. And Tedia has been screwing up because he hasn't understood about ninety percent of what I'm saying. His first language is Latino. ComLan is only something he learned in school. And when I paid attention, his coach's ComLan is so accented he might as well speak Latino."

"Play it again." Marti sat down. It was a peculiar sensation to feel lightheaded and like your knees might give and to be weightless and know they couldn't. She watched. "That isn't a regular practice."

"Impromptu by the guys. Roban had the sense to have it recorded."

"Then he goes up slightly from the zero he dropped to by getting a season suspension." Marti was honest enough with herself to realize she wouldn't be quite so mad at Roban if she didn't like the shy farm boy and hadn't wanted to see him get league MVP. "And Tedia's coach is going to hear about this! We could have used him like that last night! We would not have had overtime." She watched as he took a shot from an amazing angle.

"He already has," Isley said grimly.

"Repetition won't hurt. If that's it..." Then Marti frowned. "No, it isn't, is it? You still need to replace Chan."

Isley shook his head. "I can't speak for the team, but I can't absorb anymore changes. I'm going to keep Marco and Greg here and use them. I'll bring up another of the injury subs if needed. But I'd like to give Marco and Greg team contracts for the playoffs."

They were both good men, worked well together, and had subbed enough to integrate at a playoff level. Good natured cheerful latino Marco would bring some stress relief to the team. Tough blond Greg could be counted on to clean up any trouble. The question was would Marti buy in.

"Have either played finals, other than as an injury sub?"

Isley shook his head warily.

"Then they'll be excited. Both are old enough they'll never get another chance."

"You don't mind them then?"

"I'm not sure I'm up to much more either. Give them their chance."

She looked tired, every year of her age, Isley decided. "How is your lead model's ankle?"

"So swollen and purple it can't be masked, even if she could walk gracefully, which she can't. So my number two gal is thrilled." Marti started to rise.

"Stay sitting. There's a problem en route, or soon to be en route."

That was a strange phrasing. Marti's eyebrows rose. "Like?"

"Larr is a single father. His mother is bringing his infant son to join us at Tamara, and the kid's mother will probably use it as an excuse to create all the negative publicity she can. I gather from Rall she's out to get all the money from Larr she can. I want to prepare our PR staff for the potential problems."

Isley waited for the storm. What he saw was icy fury, something rare in Marti. Great! Just great! How would Larr take not seeing Little Al after all?

"Orchid? Just let that young woman try!" Marti's snapped with real venom in her voice. She could stand someone to get really furious with right now.

"You know about Little Al then?" Isley asked, bewildered.

"No. I had no idea there was a child. I just heard quite some time ago that that woman was involved with Larr." Isley looked mystified so she elaborated. "I used Orchid once for an on-planet modelling contract on Surana. The planet has enough of its own look that I couldn't use my Tamara shoot and had to do one with a planetary model. Orchid did not work out. In fact, I had to fire her and reshoot for a whole collection in pretty much zero time.

"She threatened to sue for false dismissal and harassment. She really wanted to be able to say she was my model. I said I would use the worst images as proof there were grounds for dismissal and send them to the fashion news at the same time so she never got another job. So I'm used to her tricks. I almost said something when I heard Larr was involved with her, but I try to stay out of the players' lives, and he never brought her to games so I figured it was not that serious. So just let her try!" Marti repeated then looked at Isley wearily. "Any more problems?"

"Not at the moment."

*****

Chapter 7

"Where is he?" Maras scowled at the area of empty hallway visible from his position taking up most of the two seat sofa in Larr's room. Even if Isley were explaining things slow 'cause Tedia's ComLan was terrible he should'a been here a long time ago. An' they had lots to do. Like think about how to outsmart them Suns.

"Try him again!" Maras commanded Larr.

Larr shrugged good humoredly, placed the call, and shook his head. "Nope. The kid still has his call tone turned off." The expression on Maras's face that the news was greeted with did not bode well for Tedia surviving to the next game.

"He's getting out of the elevator now with Marco and Greg." Roban was sprawled on Larr's bed with the good view in that direction.

Maras rose, intending to go out into the hall and tell Tedia he were late, but Larr got there first and blocked the door. He contented himself with standing behind Larr with his best glare on his face.

"How did it go with Isley?" Larr asked with some concern since he'd had to keep a firm grip on Tedia's arm all the way to the office and had literally needed to shove him in the door.

"Where you been?" Maras demanded. "Been waiting to talk."

Tedia shot a nervous look at Marco beside him, his amber eyes wary behind thick lashes, unkempt dark hair partially screening those eyes. Marco, the end of career utility injury sub for Tamara, was the one man who had befriended him since he arrived. Marco was the one who took the time to guide him. He might have some idea why Maras was furious, not pleased like he had been a few hours ago.

Had he broken some unwritten rule, just taking some time to decompress? He'd needed to think, to absorb the fact he wasn't going to be sent back to Planetary Junior A but could be looking at a contract similar to the one Roban signed with. However spending few minutes exploring the area where the space yachts docked hadn't calmed him down, so he'd decided a walk once around the periphery of the space station was a good idea. But by the time Tedia had traveled from the central hub where the team yacht was docked to the space station periphery he hadn't wanted to be alone. So he'd called Marco, and Marco and Greg had joined him. They seemed to go everywhere together.

"That workout you gave Tedia this morning wasn't enough," Marco said easily. "He decided to do once around the periphery." He turned to Tedia. "We'll leave you here then."

The look Tedia gave him this time wasn't nervous. It was somewhere between imploring and panicked, but Marco was suddenly acting oblivious. So there was another unwritten rule. The superstars didn't chum with the subs. Tough. If so he didn't like his new teammates much.

"Stick around, Señors." Tedia could be assertive when he had to be. "It's close enough to lunch for a beer." Strategy session or not, he was not going to stay here without moral support with Maras glaring like that. The guy was way too mercurial for someone his size who was intrinsically mean.

"Sorry, Tedia," Marco said. "We're usually good for a beer with these guys, but we both have our agents waiting for us to call back." He'd been talking to his when Tedia called. He'd figured his agent could wait, since Tedia had seemed really strung out. "Then Marti has big time PR lined up for us back home." He grinned at Larr. "Team members, not temps, for the playoffs at least!"

"Really?" Tedia was delighted for his new friend, and mortified for keeping him from business. He'd got things all wrong again! "Congrats!"

"That's great!" Larr liked both men and they were late enough in their careers this was probably their last chance at a Galactic playoff. Larr switched to a stream of rapid Latino argot that had Marco, Greg, and Tedia grinning and Roban and Maras lost. He switched back to ComLan. "So are you going to be like Isley and end up in the Hall of Fame?"

It was a legendary story and true. The injury-plagued team. The second string players and subs that were used and took the Galactic Championship in straight games.

"I can dream!" Marco laughed.

Greg only nodded. The ugly purple green bruise across his mouth from the game last night was really stinging from smiling at what Larr had said.

Roban pushed Maras aside and stepped forward hand outstretched. "Congratulations! You both deserve it."

He owed both of them. They had subbed for him for months after Parnilsak shattered his hand, then without complaint went back to playing Planetary Pro. Then Roban asked the question that was in everyone's mind. "And what about Gengo, if you know?"

If anyone did it would be Marco. He instantly befriended everyone. Gengo had been amazing in the rematch against Pendrae United, and Isley would be a fool to not use him for the playoffs. But they all knew Gengo wanted no part of the Galactic league. Like everyone else, Roban had been watching the quiet Oriental man, wondering what he thought now that he was here.

"We had a beer after he talked to Isley late last night." Marco winked. That was well well after curfew but Gengo had needed to talk. "He was offered Daron's position at Daron's salary and turned it down." Marco shook his head in disbelief. Daron had the second highest salary in the league. Imagine starting with it! "But Isley wouldn't accept a no. He said the offer was open until the end of playoffs." Marco shrugged. "We're all different, want different things in life."

Larr was the one who could relate. "Maybe he's smart. He's enjoying the game this way, playing Planetary. No pressure to be like his dad."

Galaxy! What would the press make of it if Gengo did come in to replace Daron? Li's son, first string center on the top team in the league. Larr suppressed a shudder at the pressure Gengo would be under.

"Go call your agents," Larr said.

He took a firm hold of Tedia so he couldn't slip away, and hauled him into the room. Strategy time. He aimed Tedia at where he had been sitting on the end of the bed. He'd sit on the floor.

***

"So, did you get a contract like Greg and Marco?" Larr asked.

"Maybe," Tedia said, wondering if he dared get up and raid the cater unit. The few swallows of liquid protein breakfast Larr had made him drink was too many hours ago and he was starting to feel light-headed.

That were no answer! Maras's scowl deepened. "Tedia -"

Larr cut across the growl. "Let him get it out at his own speed. You and Marco and Greg eat?" He was remembering the maybe ten swallows of protein mix Tedia got down.

"No."

Larr took the snack plate from where Maras had left it beside his seat. "Here you go. Chew, and do tell us what gives. Were you serious about a beer?"

Tedia shook his head, mouth full of protein roll that tasted like dry powder, but it was food. He swallowed. "Berry juice please."

While Larr was getting it, he turned to Maras glowering down at him. "Like Isley told Larr, he wants to see us do a special practice again with me on the roof. Then he wants Rall ..." Tedia gave another nervous look at Larr, "your father to see us work together. Then he'll decide."

"Tedia, don't you ever relax? I'm getting better about Rall. We had a bad start. I made the mistake Gengo hasn't. I tried to compete at his level, against his memory. And I alienated myself from my father for too many years." He grabbed a roll for himself and gave the plate back to Maras. "Sit down Maras!" The man was better tempered sitting and eating.

"So Isley is being careful," Larr said thoughtfully. "Fair enough." He lowered himself to the carpet.

Maras nodded solemnly as he resumed his seat. Maybe that were good. Careful were always good. Maybe the kid were just hot this morning. His mind replayed a fragment of the practice. Maybe the kid were headed for the Hall of Fame. Rall would know.

"And?" Larr prompted. Something was unsaid.

Tedia couldn't help it, he was grinning. It was starting to be real. "And if it all works out, I'm on the team. The same contract as you started with, Roban!"

The room was too little to be out of range. He could only roll with Maras's congratulatory thump.

*****

Chapter 8

Time for some strategic planning. Isley settled in front of the media wall. Tedia was good, no doubt about it. Isley looked at the hologram projected on his office wall. Tedia and Larr were 'upside down' on the roof of the Octagla court, Roban below them preparing to pass up to Tedia. Already he and Larr were showing signs of building that nonverbal communication a good line needed.

Isley looked at the time strip on his wrist cuff. Galaxy! Was it only four hours ago he had been going to send Tedia back down to their Junior A farm team? He'd been serious too. The kid had damned near cost them the playoffs. Well, he now had two roof runners and Rall was catching a chartered Genie space yacht to join them. And he had a semifinal series to plan for with enough injuries and suspensions it might as well be a new team. Had his coach felt like this the year he, a second string journeyman, moved up to first string and ended up in the Hall of Fame? Isley put that aside. Time to do some serious thinking, because they had a rough series coming.

They had asked for it, hadn't they? Pendrae United and Pendrae Suns were supposed to be playing each other this round. They, Tamara, were supposed to be playing the fourth team in the semifinals. Having the easy semifinal. Then face one of the Pendrae teams for Galactic championship, trying to do the unheard of, a three-peat. Probably United, but that hadn't been a certainty. The Suns were always strong, and Scimkla had an exceptional lineup this season.

Isley's face contorted into a grimace. So what was happening? Pendrae United was playing Ennup 10! Ennup 10 shouldn't even be in the semifinals. They'd handed them that position on a platter. And now he had to beat both Pendrae teams. Not only that, but he had an essentially new lineup. It was rethink everything time.

Isley looked at the menu of selected clips from Suns games. Obviously he would start with the games they had played each other this season. Then look at games where it was the Suns versus United. He sighed. Three days, and today was almost half gone. There was only so much time, and Rall and Tedia would eat into that time.

Scimkla, coach for the Suns, would be having a worse problem, Isley thought philosophically. He knew and got along with Scimkla well enough. They were both former journeymen and had teamed together a few times. Scimkla hadn't had his bad luck with injuries and still played recreational pickup when he had time, outside right wing. He was fifty-ish, lean and hard-muscled with darkening red hair. When their paths crossed off season, they had supper and exchanged tips for players on the market they couldn't personally use. But this was the playoffs. Until they were over, they were rivals.

Scimkla would be wondering why the hell Tedia was still here. Isley had just sent out a press release that Chan had been declared stable enough to go to Gingezel and convalesce with Daron. There was no need to keep that a secret, so he had done the full PR thing because he knew Chan would get a kick out of the hero press and would feel lousy enough to need any lift he could get. He was a good man. He'd taken them into the playoffs and he wouldn't play again this season. That was one of the downers of the legal drugs plus space sick. Your body only rebalanced so fast. Until Chan was well past the effects of the various stimulants Doc had given him to keep him in overtime, his system had to be kept clean. So he had a rough few weeks ahead.

Scimkla would also hear when Rall arrived. It wasn't the kind of gossip that could be hidden. He would know Rall was here, and that practices were closed. The only conclusion to draw there would be that Larr intended to run roof. So Scimkla would have a lot of speculating to do – and incorrect planning.

Isley selected a segment where Menzaille, the Sun's first string goaltender, had been in his unbeatable mode. He watched impassively as Menzaille robbed first Roban, then Rundell of goals. It hadn't been one of Menzaille's shutout nights, but it had been close. They'd lost 14 to 3. Isley studied Menzaille's face at the bench while the goalie was taking a drink of electrolytes. He looked like an older, taller, more disreputable version of Tedia. Fair skin, long poorly cut dark hair. Eyes that did not see what the rest of the galaxy saw. Menzaille's were dark brown, not amber, and equally strange.

Isley didn't envy Scimkla for trying to manage Menzaille, but he did have Broygum playing backup. He knew from one of those off-season suppers that the decision to put Menzaille first string had been the team owners', not Scimkla's. They'd been wowed by that unachievable – a Galactic Pro Octagla shutout. But Isley would take consistency any day. Menzaille was either unbeatable or you had to pull him first period. When he was off he made Mikey look like a superstar.

Mikey. A month ago he was a cheerful solidly built young man with a tousle of blond hair and a lopsided smile. Now he was so tense he'd end up on ulcer medication. It wasn't Mikey's fault either. He hadn't intended him as first string for a couple years. Mikey was meant to be the second string goalie and backup to Tarell.

Isley felt his blood pressure rise. Calm unflappable mid-career Tarell never fought. In his mind Isley could see him, short curly blond hair, medium build, an economy of moves in and out of court. One of the guys who took everything in stride. So why the hell did he try to kill Sabian in the brawl that followed Daron getting his neck broken? And for what turned out to be no reason too! Sabian had been going to get Bralin off Roban, not help deck him. Tarell had just plain got it wrong. Isley had never thought referee Bourara had a sense of humor – twisted or otherwise. But he hadn't given Tarell a season suspension, just enough games that he might be available for the last game of the finals if they got there and the finals went full games. And Tarell would be back next season. Isley figured he'd forgive him about halfway through.

All that was beside the point. Tarell said Mikey was up to the semifinals if they could calm him down, and Isley respected his judgment on that. Having Kevin here now as backup might do it. Angular black Kevin was so calm. He wasn't good for much more than ten minutes, but during those ten nothing threw him. It was a pity that Kevin didn't have staying power and never had increased his stamina. How many seasons had he used Kevin off and on as his backup? Isley mentally added. Eight? Where did time go! If he did have the endurance he'd rival Aroff on Pendrae United. They both had that lanky angular frame that looked uncoordinated until you got them weightless in goal.

As the teams took positions Isley's focus was on Anhiorl the Sun's center. Yes, he remembered this face-off; Anhiorl had outmaneuvered Daron. He watched the small black in appreciation. Anhiorl had precise economical moves. He was fast too. He made Daron look asleep on that one! For a moment Isley speculated on whether or not Anhiorl would be receptive to a discrete job offer after the playoffs, and decided no. He was settled and Scimkla liked him. Anhiorl had been team captain for two years now, filling that role with the same quiet competence he showed in the court. Isley had met his wife at the awards banquet last year and she was the same; tiny, black, shy, with a quiet sense of humor.

Isley couldn't remember what happened next. It was obvious that the left wing was going to carry the play, but had Anhiorl passed off to Valskoa or Ertwaine? Probably Ertwaine. Rundell was all over Valskoa. Isley paused the clip again. Could Rundell manage that sort of play with the compressed nerve in his wrist? He studied his outside right-winger. In this image Rundell's handsome blond face was intent, that was all. No strain, no fatigue beyond a film of sweat. The last game Rundell had been strained, often white with pain despite Doc using a neuroblock as often as was safe. No, Rundell could not contain the Suns' best scorer, Valskoa, for long. It would better to keep Rundell for the offensive plays. With Roban and Daron out Rundell was their highest scorer.

So who was most likely to keep Valskoa under control? Greg or Marco? Marco was best on that wing, but now and again he lost his temper. They couldn't afford that, and Valskoa would know how to manipulate Marco. Better to use Greg. Isley called up another clip, one of Greg in a planetary game. He was on the wall, helmet off, and the scar that ran the length of his cheekbone was white against his flushed skin. The scar was from a slash that had almost cost him an eye. His blond hair was plastered down, dark with sweat and Isley knew Greg well enough to know he was furious.

Greg wasn't doing a damned thing though. He was just staying out of range of the other winger who, helmet and gloves off, was being forcibly restrained by his own team's massive defenseman. That was Greg. If the other winger broke loose and went at him, he'd hold his own, possibly even win despite the size difference. Greg was one tough hombre. But they had talked about it once over breakfast and Greg had explained that he figured he wasn't being paid to spend time in the penalty box. Yes... Greg was the man to control Valskoa.

Valskoa was another player Isley did not envy Scimkla for having, and he wouldn't trade to get him even if he was free. The man was too much like Jaik on Pendrae United, mean and arrogant. He was better looking, that was the only difference. Dark hair and eyes, rugged features, light skin he kept tanned. Valskoa had caused a lot of trouble in the last few years and had acquired a reputation as a dirty fighter. That might be because he only had three, at the most four, good years left and he really wanted to take the highest scorer title from Jaik. Usually he was a contender midseason, then faded and ended up third or fourth. His odds were better now that Roban was suspended and Daron was out.

Isley watched as Anhiorl made his move, passing to Ertwaine as Isley had expected. Now he was a good player, a utility journeyman who had worked his way up to first string. Isley knew Ertwaine and Larr chummed together a lot off-season, and he wondered if Larr had been disappointed that Tamara had acquired Chan instead. But Ertwaine's agent had asked too much.

Isley watched him move in, steady blue eyes focused on Big Luis, not the goal, a lock of sweaty brown hair plastered to his forehead. That focus was bad news – he should be splitting attention between Big Luis and Tarell if he was taking the shot. The networks were showing the left wing, but Isley used the controls to expand the view and see what mischief Parnilsak and Pelfran were up to.

Pelfran, on outer right, was hanging back. He'd obviously been told to cover a turnaround in play. That would make him a hero – Pendrae fans liked their home planet players to be that. He was one of those blonds they bred there, but with a slender build, maybe four kilos heavier than Roban. He was good too, quiet and competent.

Parnilsak was coming in fast, obviously intending to take the pass, but Isley noted Maras was positioning himself well. The pass came. It was on target, but a split-second too late. Maras and Parnilsak got in a shoving match for the ball. Oh yes, he remembered this segment now. They both took five. Isley usually didn't advocate violence, but Maras could have done a better job and taken ten. Parnilsak was the man who had shattered Roban's hand.

Isley watched as Parnilsak took his helmet off in the penalty box to wipe his tanned, sweat-soaked face and curly brown hair. Then he glared at Maras and gave him a one finger salute and added an argot phrase that Maras returned. It would be interesting to see what Parnilsak and Tedia did to each other. Isley had been told in his more candid talk with Tedia's Junior A coach to not let the slight build fool him. Tedia won most fights.

The next clip was an older one where Daron, Roban, and Ranga were pressing the play into the Suns' end. Parnilsak managed to keep Roban out, but Ranga slipped past easily. Isley watched Warkiza on right defense position himself, but it was obvious he wasn't sure if he should be focusing on Daron who had the ball, or Ranga.

Daron settled his indecision for him by passing to Ranga, and Warkiza repositioned himself remarkably quickly for being one of the Pendrae heavyset blond giants. As soon as he repositioned, Ranga snapped a pass back to Daron who scored on Broygum. Isley watched as Warkiza joined the mound giving Daron congratulatory thumps. Unless he'd lost his skills as a lip reader, with a smile Warkiza said 'Nice goal. But you won't do that again'. He was like that, the kind of sportsman who made Octagla a pleasure to be part of.

The next clip saw Mercan going in solo on Kip. Isley never tired of watching Kip. He was the first of the small defensemen in the league. By small Isley meant he was about eight kilos heavier than Larr. Isley wasn't sure what he thought of the smaller defensemen. They were no good in a slingshot play. Scimkla had a left defenseman on second string who was almost Big Luis's size he used for slingshot plays. But Scimkla wasn't a fan of slingshot plays.

Unbidden an image of Daron being taken out of the court in a cocoon by medics, his neck broken, entered his mind. That was followed by another image of visiting Daron in the trauma unit at the sports medicine clinic in Crescent Bay. Daron had uncontrollable tremors and two limbs had only partial use. Trevarr said he would probably walk, but Isley didn't have to be a doctor to tell the neural reconstruction was unstable. No! He forcibly stopped that line of thought. If he let accidents put him off it was time to retire. And right now he had a series to rethink.

What about his second string? Chan was in the hospital. Larr was back on first string. Mikey was first string and would have to be second string part of the time too since Kevin wouldn't be able to hold it. At least that was one thing Mikey had, stamina. Red was first string. Isley sighed. He did hope Gengo relented on staying second string and he could use him first string some. Red simply did not have what first string takes. Marco and Greg would be there. Sandlik on inside left would have to be the man to lead the second string, hold it together.

Isley did not need to call up a clip to see the competent, aggressive, slender black. He was ready to move up to first string any time, and before all the disasters Isley had planned to give him all the first string time he could in the playoffs. But now he needed him too badly where he was. On outside right was Rishic. Here Isley did pull up a clip from the last game of the tall skinny ugly man. He was seeing more in him than he had expected to. Rishic ... Well, time would tell. Whatever happened he would be steady, thoughtful, and adaptive to the circumstances.

At least second string defense was untouched. Massive black Reladjn on left already had six playoff rings, and in one of those breakfast talks Isley had learned that this would probably be his last year. He would miss him, and was grateful to Reladjn for training Maras as his replacement. Young Kyle on right defense would do. He was one of the Pendrae blond giants, a fifth, or was it sixth cousin of Ferdik on Pendrae United. Give him a few years experience, and he might be equally good.

*****

Chapter 9

Larr looked at the debris from four solid meals and wondered if Maras would leave room service an adequate tip. Probably not. He had to be one of the cheapest men in the galaxy. As far as Larr could figure out his only splurges were his gold hair tubes and those loud suits he liked. Otherwise he lived pretty much like he would in the Terran megacity tenement he was from.

There was an unmistakable call tone on Maras's compad. Coach Isley. Maras took it out, scowling suspiciously at the identifier like there could be a mistake.

"It's Isley," Larr said. "Answer before he gets pissed."

"Maras," Maras said, looking warily at his coach. There had been more calls from Isley since he'd been appointed team captain, but his first guess on any call was still that he'd screwed up. He couldn't see how this time, but he didn't want to get chewed out in front of his new friends.

"I decided I don't want Tedia tired for the special practice. So can you round up him, Larr, Roban, Tarell, and Gengo? I've got a court."

Larr looked at the confusion on Maras's face and the mess in the room. Maras's tongue was obviously frozen.

"Tedia and Roban and I are here, Isley." Larr raised his voice because he knew perfectly well Maras would never hand over his compad. "We've been stuffing our faces with an early lunch. Can you hold the court a half hour or so until we've had time to digest?"

Isley did some mental arithmetic. He needed to see this at its best. "Okay. Make that rest interval two hours. What I'll do is have Eddy reschedule regular practice for immediately after and make sure you all only do light drills then. Maras, call around to the team about the time change." He disconnected.

Tedia was openly staring at Larr. "You can talk to the coach like that?"

"When there is a good reason, sure," Larr said. "And I suspect Isley is going to try to kill us – see just what can and can't be done. So for sure I need time after this before I go in a court." He waved at the piles of dishes.

Roban nodded agreement. "Did you pick up that we are practicing with Gengo, not Red?"

"Looks like Marco was right, Isley isn't taking no for an answer."

"Good," Maras grunted with satisfaction.

Tedia was watching their faces.

Larr decided to enlighten him. "We're all just waiting for Isley to trade Red. He's good – second string good. But in his opinion his jersey belongs in the Hall of Fame."

Oh. Every team had a few like that. Tedia nodded, thinking of the behavior of the compact redhead. Yes, he could see where Red wasn't making friends.

"So, what now?" Maras asked.

"You're busy," Larr said. Maras had his calls to make and he'd been working sporadically on that poem of his. "We'll clear out."

"Si. I'll watch more games," Tedia said.

"Bad move," Larr said. The kid would just get nervous and choke. "You a card player? Greg likes to clean everyone out when he's around. You in Roban?"

Roban shook his head. "I think I'll see what Uncle Barranb is up to." He smiled. "I think he wants us to get that three-peat more than we do. He must be staying up all night on those simulations of his." Roban wasn't about to admit it, but he was up almost all night too, helping his uncle, trying to find any edge he could. He had to make up for being suspended somehow.

***

It was a good thing Roban had recorded that earlier practice without Tedia's knowledge. If the images weren't still clear in his mind he would be ending this disaster and sending Tedia down to Junior A . But what to do about this choking, now, and more importantly, in a game? Indecisive, Isley watched Roban set the next play with a pass to Larr.

Larr netted the pass easily, abruptly stopped his progress along the roof, and stood there, hands on hips. He stared at Tedia who was out of position and pretty much frozen.

"Hombre!!" Larr had learned at the card game that this form of address amused Tedia. "You're going to make me look bad with Rall! You're nervous, and totally screwing up. So go to the dressing room, be sick or whatever, then come back and let's do what we're here for."

Larr's tone was friendly enough, Tedia decided as he watched him through slanted lashes. So was this friendly bluster, or was Larr the kind that got mad with a friendly voice first, then shifted to furious fast. He'd play it safe, especially since Larr was right.

"Si, señor. Sorry, señor." Tedia jetted towards the bench. "Señor Coach Isley can I take five?"

Isley studied the taut young face. "I'll keep you company."

"Isley, that isn't going to help!" Larr said.

"Shut up, Larr!" Isley was pleased though. This Larr was totally different from the journeyman of even four weeks ago. That journeyman had been competent, done what you told him, and drawn the line there. No ownership, no leadership, minimal interaction, no initiative.

***

Tedia was standing warily in the center of the dressing room, obviously waiting for the lecture. Isley watched him. The kid wasn't stupid. And he wasn't really all that scared or he'd be in the toilet. But he was choking. Isley grabbed an electrolyte beverage and lobbed it at Tedia, then took one for himself.

"So how much did Greg clean you out for?" Isley asked.

Tedia blinked, taking a moment to follow the non sequitur. "Larr said we couldn't play for credits."

Isley sat down, although the room was almost weightless. Stress made his bum knee act up and it felt best bent. "Good thing. Greg's a competent sub in the courts, but if he was half as good there as he is with cards he'd be a Hall of Famer." Isley took a sip of drink he didn't need. "I know because I bust up a lot of his games at curfew. And sit in on the odd one and extend curfew for an extra half an hour."

"Tedia actually won four hands," Larr said from the doorway.

"And who invited you?"

"I'm feeling proprietorial with the kid."

Isley shrugged and turned back to Tedia. "Can I ask how you won? Or was it just that the cards were so good you couldn't lose?" Anything to get Tedia to relax and talk.

Tedia shot a nervous look at Larr.

"He played the naïve little innocent the first two times," Larr said. "Greg didn't think much of being suckered. So the next two were skill. I think you memorize the play?"

"As much as I can. Mostly it's the faces."

"Don't tell Greg you can read his face, or you won't be his friend 'hombre' anymore," Larr advised, getting a drink for himself and grabbing a towel from the stack to wipe the sweat film off his black face. He then started toweling his close cropped blond curls.

"You worried about Rall?" Isley asked Larr. His guess was that a chance to talk about that had brought Larr in here more than worrying about Tedia.

"Not as bad as I would have been a month ago, but yeah. Do I still get to run roof if he says I'm crap?"

"I'm not blind. I saw that goal in the Celebrity Game."

Larr relaxed enough to take a swallow of juice. "You know he's going to like Tedia and shit on me. I don't have the moves."

"Larr, I'm glad you've found your voice, but don't push it. Your dad is here professionally. And should we be having this talk in private?"

Larr shook his head. "Tedia's okay. He's got brains. He's not just a nervy kid like Ranga. When Rall is private coaching us he'll pick up on any bad dynamics, and they'll be there for sure." Larr shrugged and turned to Tedia. "I know I'm tensing on the fact Rall is en route. Is that what's putting you off too - Rall almost here?"

"Si, Señor." Tedia gave a lopsided grin. Tense was an understatement.

"Does it help if I say he's just a guy I played with?" Isley asked.

"No!" Larr said and they all laughed. "So let's go get all the practice we can before he gets here."

***

They could hear the combination of profanity and laughter before they could see into the Octagla court. Isley and Larr looked at each other, shrugged, and hurried up, but only a little and Tedia stayed about four steps behind. As the court came into view, Gengo was on the roof, obviously the one swearing. Maras and Tarell were in position on the court floor, laughing. Roban was floating mid-space, helmet off, compad in hand.

"It should work. Can't you –"

"Not if I want to take a single face-off in the next game!" Gengo stretched, flexing each shoulder. "Forget – hey, here's Larr and Tedia at last. Get up here!"

Tedia and Larr headed for the roof.

Isley jetted to Roban. "What are you doing?" And what was Gengo doing hanging up on the roof like that, looking totally at ease, if rather cranky.

"You were taking a while. To kill time I was showing everyone the simulations Uncle Barranb has had time to do so far for roof runners. And one of the things he's done was Rall's famous bounce shot. We were all curious, so we thought we'd see if he got it right. But no one else knows the software, just me, so Gengo got volunteered to see if he could do Rall's bounce shot." Roban looked warily at Isley. He was already pretty unpopular for that suspension.

And that experiment has Gengo up on the roof. Isley was imagining the line. Gengo center like his father had been, Larr beside him, Tedia. And trying the figure out how to do the bounce shot was the ideal way to relax Tedia.

Isley smiled. "Relax. No screwup – this time." He raised his voice. "Gengo, get down here to look at the simulation again, then let's try it with Tedia and Larr! Tarell come see if it is a shot you could stop."

Everyone obediently clustered around staring at the screen.

"You do know Rall tried to teach that shot to a few friends and no one could get it, including me?" Isley asked.

"Why am I not surprised!" Gengo said with vehemence. "You have to be double-jointed!"

Larr nodded. "I worked so hard on that as a kid. It was part of what put me off the roof. That and never knowing when I'd go dizzy and nauseous."

Tedia was being very quiet, Isley realized.

"Don't you dare tell me you can do this!" Larr said turning on him.

"Probably not quite the same." Tedia had watched recordings of Rall take that shot hundreds of times. Practiced it thousands and thousands of times. That was how he had developed some of those moves Cailla had trouble getting.

"Close is good enough," Isley said dryly. "Up you all go. You happy there Gengo?"

"Totally useless, but so far so good. I have no idea how my actually playing roof would go since I've never tried." That was one of the limits he had drawn. He would not run roof like his father.

Maras finally realized the sense of the conversation. "Tedia. You gonna do a bounce shot like Rall and I'm gonna stop you?"

"Try," Tedia said cautiously.

"Real good!" Maras clouted him.

***

Isley shut his eyes. And he had been going to send Tedia back to the Junior A farm team. Tedia was right. It wasn't exactly Rall's bounce shot. He took it from a different angle, with a different motion. It was a bit faster too.

"Tarell," he asked on a private channel, "did you have a chance on that?" Tarell had let the shot in, but that might have just been lack of focus.

"No. Neither will Aroff or even Menzaille. Kip might be able to block it as defense."

Isley nodded. Kip was fast and he might get an angle on it ... Well, Rall could help improve the odds of that not happening.

*****

Chapter 10

All were real good, Maras decided. Once he settled down Tedia done real good at the special practice. Isley would sign him for sure. They'd all talked it over, him and Larr and Roban, and decided the kid should get Mercan's agent because the guy were Latino an' used to play. At first Larr said Tedia should have Her, his agent. But no way the kid could handle Her!

And Rall were arriving early tomorrow. Rall. Maras's face took on a blissful expression. He were gonna get coached by Rall. 'Cause Isley said he gotta be able to play good to Tedia and Larr on the roof. Yup. All were real good. Except. Except those damned words was misbehaving something awful! Maras scowled at the poem on his compad.

Cailla had said all you had to do was keep tryin', but there got to be more to it than that. Cailla were a poet and he wanted to make a poem to please her. She played Octagla too. So if she could do both, if he worked hard enough maybe he could too. Or maybe not. Them words was tricky, and right now they was really acting up. Maybe Roban could help. He were smart about words.

Maras's face brightened at the prospect, then fell. No. Him and Tedia were doing a simulation with Roban's Uncle Barranb. He shouldn't interrupt that. Tedia wanted to do as much work as he could before Rall got here. Isley had said they wouldn't use Tedia and Larr on the roof in a game until Rall gave the nod. But there were going to be lots of work and not many days to do it in. So if they was doing a simulation he shouldn't interrupt.

Maybe he could ask Larr. Larr weren't as smart as Roban, but he were pretty smart. And they was buddies now. Larr wouldn't laugh and tease him like he might have a few weeks ago.

All the same, Maras hesitated, glowering for almost ten minutes at the five words he had spent the day carefully putting together wrong in his poem. Then he spent another ten minutes looking at his favorite images of Cailla. She were so pretty, all blonde and pink. He started with his favorite one, her kissing him in front of all those pesky reporters. And they had kissed again. That had to mean she really liked him, right? Maras slowly worked through his photo library. At last he got up and walked down the portel corridor towards Larr's room. Larr didn't answer at once, and Maras heard a woman's voice. He grinned. Isley would be pissed. Maras touched the contact and the voices stopped. A moment later Larr open the door and waved him in.

"Larr, my poem –" Maras stopped, confused. There were no woman. The room were tidy, and the door to the toilet were open. He could see the shower stall – no one hiding there. So where were the woman?

"You were talking to a woman," Maras said accusingly.

Larr nodded. "I called my mother." He did, every morning her time, or as early as he could, to see how Little Al had spent the night. Unless of course he was in the Octagla court, or in hyperspace. He managed the call maybe three days a week.

"I'm glad you came Maras. I wanted to talk to you." Larr waved Maras to the sofa and got beers.

Maras took the beer and looked at Larr expectantly. Maybe Larr would say something that would get his mind off that poem. He were tired of that poem. He sat and waited. But Larr just went and sat in the chair, then stared at the floor.

Maras felt obliged to help. "Your mom got bad news?" Better not be anything needing Rall to turn around and go back.

"No. It's all fine."

Ingar had been telling him their exact travel schedule, and speculating on whether or not Little Al had any concept of space travel, or if he'd think joining them on Tamara was just one long GV drive. She'd said he liked going for long rides in their GV, looking out the window. She'd said they tried to take him out in the country at least once a month. Larr had not known. He'd never been on a trip further than from his parents' home to the spaceport with his son.

His mind was only peripherally on his mother and son though. What Larr was worrying about was how to tell Maras they would both be waiting for the team on Tamara. He was sure – no he wasn't sure! Was Isley right that telling the galaxy about his son Little Al would be fine? Larr was having trouble finding words to use with friends, much less the media. And as for friends, Maras was just plain a prude.

"What..." Larr took the plunge. "What we were talking about was her coming to watch us play the Tamara part of the series."

That were good. But Maras couldn't figure out why Larr looked unhappy, or why she weren't coming here. It were closer and Rall was coming. They could have come together.

"She working?" Maras asked since Larr had dried up again.

"No. She's bringing my son, Litte Al, and she figures it's a bad idea to bring him here." There. It was out. And because Maras wasn't even frowning, Larr decided he'd better get this very clear. "I have a son, Maras. He's just over one."

Maras took this total rearrangement of several preconceptions better than most would. It was not exactly a new experience. He handled it the way he'd learned to when he got it all wrong. He started by making sure them facts weren't playing games with him.

"You got yourself a little boy, Larr?"

Larr nodded cautiously. So far there had not been much of a reaction. He was still waiting for the condemnation.

"And your mom is bringing him to Tamara."

Larr nodded again.

"Crowds too rough here," Maras announced.

Larr shrugged agreement. He couldn't think of a thing to say, and he wasn't sure how much discussion he was up to.

Fortunately though Maras's mind had gone a different route. "You got images of your boy?" he asked hopefully. He loved looking at images, especially children.

Larr called up a series of holovideos. Most were of a sturdy, smiling little black lad crawling about, or being fed, or making a mess eating. Two were of tears. He had pulled himself up on a table, tried to walk and taken a good fall. They didn't last though. A moment later Little Al was trying again.

Maras nodded his approval. "He looks real good, Larr."

Maras hesitated, then asked the inevitable question. "What about his mama?"

Since no one on the team had any idea Larr even had a serious girlfriend, he kind of expected one answer. There'd been a mistake on a one night stand, and the girl didn't want the kid. He couldn't say he approved, but it did happen.

"Yes," Larr said, the animation he'd shown talking about his son while they watched the videos fading. "Now it comes to Orchid. She's alive, healthy, beautiful, rich, and doing quite well without me thank you. Or," Larr added bitterly, "thanks to me I should say."

"Cleaned you out real good?" Maras asked sympathetically.

Larr looked at him. "You don't seem surprised."

Maras shook his head. "Nah. Girl tried that stunt on one of my brothers. Showed up pregnant, said it was his. Reg liked her real good and would have married her, but she were trash." Maras scowled. "I checked around some. Odds were the kid wasn't his, so I said wait for the tests. He did."

"And?" Larr couldn't resist asking.

Maras blinked in surprise. He thought it was obvious. Oh well, Larr maybe weren't having a good day. "It weren't his, so he said get lost. She were pretty pissed with me." Maras's face hardened. "Thought she was getting a wedding ring and an easy ride. Other guy was married with more kids than he could feed already."

Larr said bitterly, "Well, a wedding ring was exactly what Orchid didn't want. I had honestly thought we were getting married. I mean that's what engaged means." He ran a hand across his closely cropped blond hair. "Galaxy, was I wrong!"

Maras blinked again. Maybe he weren't having his best day either. First them words went all wrong, then he kept getting all mixed up about Larr.

"You mean you knew her – for a while I mean?" He was puzzled. "I mean none of us knew." Then he brightened. "Or were it like Roban and his girl, you didn't want Daron after her?"

"I didn't want the whole damned team after her!" Maras, Larr suspected, was the only one likely to be immune to Orchid. He'd take one look and say 'Trash', like he did about Hidi, even to Big Luis's face. Or would he? That was an interesting question.

Abruptly Larr asked, "Do you want to see Little Al's mother?"

Very curious, Maras nodded.

Larr had kept his two favorite images of Orchid and had deleted the rest. He looked at them when he felt in danger of suckering again. He called up the first. It was of Orchid at a party at a friend's condo. She was in a long, low-cut dress in a color that matched her name. The beautiful amethyst and diamond necklace he'd bought her rested on those perfect collarbones, and she looked unbelievably elegant. He showed it to Maras, then moved on to the second, an erotic image taken by an art photographer that specialized in them. She'd given it to him as a birthday present. She had on a silky bit of nothing that didn't cover much. Larr had memorized the image, so he watched Maras's face, waiting for the pronouncement.

But Maras was just staring at all those beautiful long limbs, the flawless ebony skin. Usually he liked a woman with more shape to her, but Orchid were perfect for her type. And the hair. And the face. Those eyes, that mouth. He'd never seen a woman more meant for bed.

Obscurely Larr felt better. If even Maras wasn't immune maybe he wasn't such a fool. Abruptly he turned the image off.

"Well?"

Maras said with open envy, "And she was your woman for a while?"

"Almost a year before she got pregnant. After that she wanted nothing to do with me. Still," Larr sighed, "that year had me in a fool's paradise. I really thought it could last." He looked at Maras. "Don't say it – I was dumb! Anyway, see why I wasn't introducing her around?"

Maras nodded. She would have busted up the team but good. They'd have all been fighting over her. Instead, he asked the obvious question. "You sure that little one is yours?"

"Of course I'm not sure!" Larr's voice had a rough edge. "And I'm warning you now Maras, I don't want to know and I don't want to talk about it. The lawyers wanted me to find out, but I wouldn't. At the time I couldn't stand to think Orchid was cheating on me while I was away playing Octagla. Now I don't care. Little Al is a good kid, and he needs a father. I'm glad to be it."

That were real big of Larr. Maras beamed approval at his friend.

"You think he'd like a puppy?" They were finally going to look at puppies between games and he were buying one. He'd set it all up. The pet store man were bringing some to the space station. And all little boys liked puppies.

*****

Chapter 11

"Rall." Isley stepped forward to grasp his old friend's shoulder as soon as he emerged from Customs. "I'm glad you're here. Let's get you settled."

By mutual consent their conversation as they took the elevator from the space station core to the periphery was about Laurion, and Rall's ongoing sports product endorsement. They weren't the home team, and people talked. For all they knew, someone in the elevator with them could be a spy, although that was more Coach Kendrix's style than Scimkla's. Conversation stayed meaningless until the portel room door was closed.

As Rall slung his two bags onto the bench at the foot of the bed Isley said, "He's good Rall, better than you saw in that segment."

"How good?" Rall turned to study Isley's face, seeing the barely suppressed excitement. He hadn't seen Isley's eyes this alive for a very long time. He was playing with his moustache with a hand that trembled slightly.

"He's worked out his own equivalent of your bounce shot. It has Tarell stumped, and he's betting Menzaille couldn't stop it on even a good night."

Rall gave a curt nod, then turned to his bags, unpacking with the efficiency he'd learned in his years of playing.

Isley couldn't read Rall's expression, or the body language. He did notice that Rall was grayer than he looked on holovision. "Do you mind? That kind of shot has been yours alone for decades now. It's made you a legend."

"No," Rall said honestly. "Hell, I tried to teach enough people how to do it." He turned back to Isley with his first trace of a smile. "Including you, if my memory is correct."

Isley laughed. "And if my memory is correct, after that even though I couldn't master the shot, I spent six months or so with the delusion I could do more than barely function on the roof. Still, that time spent trying to be good, not just okay on the roof taught me a lot that will come in useful now."

"You're really wired. It's more than Tedia." Rall stopped there, hoping it was something good about Larr.

Isley nodded. "Gengo. They were fooling around and they had him up on the roof. It doesn't bother him. He was improvising, trying to figure out your bounce shot." Isley laughed. "He said you must be double jointed."

Rall's face reflected the excitement in Isley's. "He any good?"

"He says he never tried the roof before." Isley believed that. That was how Gengo coped. He did not try to be what his father had been. "But you know how good Gengo is. He can learn. Even with just the time he's had while you were travelling, he's starting to look comfortable."

"Signed him yet?"

Isley laughed again. It was so good to have Rall here to talk to. "He told me to get lost. That's Gengo."

"So you don't believe him?"

"I honestly don't know. I told him the offer was good to the end of playoffs. Maybe, if he enjoys the series..."

***

"Can't you lower your shoulder even another millimeter before you release the ball?" Roban asked. He and Larr were fine tuning speeding up his transition from netting a pass to taking a shot with more advice from Uncle Barranb. Looking past Larr, he announced, "They're here."

Tedia swung around and his expressive eyes widened. Rall was suited up! He was in a gleaming black and green Tamara uniform with his number on it. Not a team in the league had used that number since Rall retired. Rall! Rall wasn't just going to coach from the bench, he was going to be in the same court with him. Tedia had hardly slept, watching and rewatching the images of Rall at the peak this career, not that he needed to watch. They were memorized. But he hadn't memorized the Celebrity game yet. Each time he watched it he saw something new. Rall had been incredible. Tedia started to approach him to say so.

Larr got there first. "Glad you made it." Larr extended his hand.

Rall grunted, ignoring the extended hand. "You've changed your pass." There was a tone of an accusation.

Maybe saying much was a bad idea. Tedia stopped in front of Rall. "I'm honored Señor."

Rall turned his focus to Tedia. "Isley says you have your own bounce pass. Show me."

Did Rall mind? He certainly did not sound pleased. "Si, Señor." Tedia had to force those words out. Well, you did what the coach said. He headed up.

Rall stayed down by Isley. "Where do you usually shoot from, Tedia? Do it from there."

Heart pounding, Tedia positioned himself, shot, and scored on Tarell.

"Again." Rall watched the fluid motion intently, then jetted up. "Nice style. I think I've got the idea. Pass to me."

Tedia passed, then moved aside as Rall came at a lope. He watched the shot, a shot that careened wildly around the court.

"Don't have the idea!" Rall swore, proving he still had his player's vocabulary. "So show me, real slow, what the hell I'm doing wrong!"

I'm supposed to show Rall what to do? Great, but how do I do that? "Señor Rall," Tedia said hesitantly, "no offense, but I don't know what I do."

Rall nodded. "So you're a lousy teacher like I was? Well, just do it again, slow. Maras! You going to be all day getting the damned ball?"

This were wonderful. He were getting chewed out by his hero, Rall. Maras tried harder, got the ball, passed to Rall.

Rall took the ball out of his net and handed it to Tedia. "Slow. I'm going to stand here beside you and copy your moves. Don't release the ball."

It was like when he was showing Cailla. Tedia made his move, Repeated it. Repeated it. Only Rall wasn't rubbing his shoulder after a few mock tries.

"Enough. So, you use almost a side arm ..." Rall was staring into space. "Alright, let me make a fool of myself again." He held out his hand for the ball. "Tarell, get back in net." Rall turned to Tedia with a hint of a smile. "I always was best with a human target." Rall took the ball, seated it in the net with a twist, took two steps forward, and shot. It felt right this time, and went in - just. "Hey, Isley. I can still learn!"

"Great! Fair trade time now. See if Tedia can learn that shot of yours that I couldn't."

***

It took about ten minutes, but Tedia figured out the difference in their styles. Well, time to try it. Tedia jetted down to mid court, then back up to the roof landing easily and adopting his easy loping stride. He simply could not shoot from where Rall thought he should, so he chose his own spot and timing for the shot but with Rall's bounce shot ... and scored.

Rall grunted with satisfaction. Isley was right. The kid was good, damned good. "Gengo. You want to try it with me here?"

"Not a chance! My shoulders aren't set right."

Rall didn't argue.

As Rall was obviously starting down towards the bench without including his son, Isley said, "What about Larr?

"Waste of time. He's like Gengo. Shoulders set wrong. Figured that out when he was about fifteen."

Larr stared. Rall had known since he was in his teens that he couldn't do that shot, not because he was incompetent but because he literally couldn't? And let me keep trying and trying? Thanks a lot! Larr felt the touch on his arm and turned.

Gengo rolled his eyes, his oriental face not impassive for once and mouthed "Fathers!"

***

Gengo's mind jumped back to his arrival on the Pendrae space station.

So this was his room. Gengo unlocked the door and quietly slipped in. His father Li had scolded him, said he was rude to have asked that he not be met on arrival, that he was degrading the honor Isley had done him. True, and he would bow low and ask forgiveness when they met, but he couldn't have handled a meeting that soon. He needed time, time to assimilate what he had done, time to search for who he now was.

It didn't take conscious thought to quickly put his few toiletries and possessions where he wanted them. Gengo had never been on the Pendrae space station, but space station portel rooms were all the same. To him the decor in this one was depressingly functional and drab, but that didn't matter. He was here to work. Yes ... work ... Biting his lip Gengo quickly reached for another sweater. Hanging his carefully folded jacket was his last action. For a moment his hand lingered on the team crest. Center, Rujjipet Comets, Planetary Octagla. That was who he was, what he wanted to be. So what in the galaxy was he doing here?

Turning abruptly Gengo checked the time. Customs and Immigration had been straightforward. He didn't have time to walk all around the periphery, but the map had shown a small park area at a suitable distance.

***

Gengo stood looking through the window at night time Pendrae, glittering with the lights of its large industrialized cities. Could he find the calm he needed there? He doubted it, and pitied those who chose Pendrae as their home. No. He was unfair. Even at this distance large tracts of emptiness could be seen. But he pitied those in the cities. So there was no more rest looking at Pendrae than in the park behind him. The park provided a large space, but that space was for families. Children played in groups, laughing and shouting as they splashed in shallow ponds or played on gymnastic structures. Gengo continued on.

Ah! This was an unexpected treasure, a very small alcove created by two office complexes being offset. It had a fascinating sculpture, steel and anodized aluminum entwined and gleaming softly in shifting light. It would do. Gengo lowered himself to the floor sitting cross-legged, and emptied his mind.

He was Gengo. But who was this Gengo, here to play Galactic Pro? He did not want to do this! He had never been so excited in his life! His carefully ordered life was in tumult. He relished the change. He resented the change. Gengo accepted, lived, assimilated the contradictions. And last he rose. He would be fifteen minutes late to see Isley. He would have to bow very low.

***

He had bowed very low, and as he walked into his room Gengo had received an angry call from his father who must have been calling Isley every few minutes. 'How dare you be even a minute late!' His father had ranted on. Isley hadn't minded him being late, and had seemed amused at the bow and formal apology. Fathers!

*****

Chapter 12

"Want me to get lost?" Maras muttered under his breath.

Roban turned, puzzled. They were out walking through the commercial and dining area of the space station, but only Roban's body was present. His feet moved automatically while his mind was on the simulation he and Uncle Barranb were doing for Tedia playing with Larr. He knew Larr said he couldn't, but if Larr could just modify his pass style even a half a percent more...

"Roban!"

Maras's whisper was urgent. Roban weren't taking their run-in the other day with that bad news Cobyn Gadd serious. Maras felt a little better knowing Roban always wore a knife in his belt at his back under his vest, and were fast with the knife. But that were all he were doing. He weren't looking out. Dumb! No one who were way up with that drug queen bitch Zloenni were safe to ignore.

"The creep's been following you ... maybe ten minutes, pretending to shop."

Were funny, that. Roban were just walking random, lookin' here, there. Talked to a fan once. Driving that Cobyn guy nuts trying to find something natural looking to do when Roban stopped. Like a funny holo. Only this killer weren't funny.

"Oh." Roban didn't bother to look or ask who Maras meant. He spoke to Maras in his normal voice. "I'm missing not playing the games, and I need a good walk, not just time in the gym. I think I'll go around the periphery once or twice."

Roban had carefully thought it out. Whatever message Cobyn had to deliver from Zloenni would not be one for public ears. He was not going to Cobyn's room or inviting him to his – that would be suicidally stupid. He was not going to be seen in a secluded corner of some café talking to the number two man in Zloenni's drug empire. So that left one alternative, one of the less busy walkways. He had told that firmly to Maras the last time they had talked about Cobyn.

Maras nodded, grunted and walked off scowling. That were dumb. Real dumb, but he hadn't figured out how to counter a single one of Roban's arguments. Roban were too smart and fancy with words. But it were dumb. He'd tried saying he'd just follow them, but next thing he knew Roban's knife was by his nose an' Roban were sayin' 'Not on your life'. He'd worried less after that reminder that Roban were fast with his knife. And even less after meditating on how Roban had put Jonagar in the hospital good for bustin' Daron's neck. Roban only looked like he weren't a fighter. But it were still dumb!

As he reluctantly left, Maras glared Cobyn Gadd up and down as he deliberately passed close to him. Medium length blond hair, cruel arrogant face, well muscled. Wearin' that pendant and chain Daron warned Roban he liked to fight with. Open tunic where he kept his knife. Drug trash. Maras threw in a Terran street epithet for good measure, added one more glare, and stalked off.

***

While your eye could always follow the arc of the ceiling, which was the inner rim of the wheel around the space station, the walkways tended to not run straight. There were curves, side lanes, steps, small hills. Space stations used anything the architect could think of to provide variety. There were also walking routes of various lengths painted on the syncrete. That was the current theory, that you relaxed better and gave your eyes a break not staring at your compad to follow a route.

Roban walked at his normal exercise pace until he was beyond the more popular short walks. Then as the crowd thinned to a group of four other walkers just behind him, then Cobyn well behind them, he started looking for an appropriate intersecting corridor. The third corridor had no doors along it. It probably led to some maintenance facility. It would do. He walked one quarter of the way down the fairly narrow passage, then leaned on the wall. Thoughtfully he pulled on gloves.

It didn't take long.

"Cobyn." Roban spoke as the man entered the passage, but made no change of his relaxed posture.

"Roban." Cool. Very cool. No wonder he was second to Daron. Daron, the man who would have become chief enforcer for Ghen Kulgalu when his father Devon retired, except for that broken neck. Pity that. He'd been looking forward to killing Daron. Just what kind of talks had Roban had with Devon Soimvell and Ghen Kulgalu? Could their offer match Zloenni's?

Cobyn walked until he was level with Roban, then positioned himself with his back almost against the opposite wall. But somehow he could not bring himself to relax and lean on it. He was aware that this gave Roban an edge in the dominance mind game they were playing, but Roban unsettled him.

"I have a message I was asked to deliver. Zloenni would like to talk business with you while you are on the space station."

"I don't have any business to discuss with her." Roban's voice was firm, emotionless.

"She thinks she can make it worth your while."

"Seduce me like she did Ranga? I'm not a stupid kid, Cobyn, out to amuse myself in my father's competitor's bed." Roban straightened.

"No." Cobyn resisted the urge to slide his left hand toward his knife, his right up his chest to his chain. There were danger signals in those eyes. "Cash and power. More power than you would have in Ghen's empire."

That did not threaten Cobyn. The Old Man, Ghen's father, had failing health, and when he died Zloenni would make her move. There would be room for both him and Roban. With Roban as an insider the possible moves would change... That was the essential thing, an insider. And when he was working for Zloenni, perhaps Roban would succeed in stealing the formula Ranga hadn't.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Roban's tone was hard cold steel. "Octagla is my career – not drugs!" Roban took a step forward, closing the gap. "I have nothing to say to Zloenni!" He started to turn, expecting trouble to start.

"I think you should come talk to her." Cobyn's voice held a note of threat, and his left hand started to move. Started was all, because a knife was suddenly at his throat.

"I'm leaving now," Roban said, forcing calm. This was the S.O.B. who had frightened Daron into taking that dive, getting a broken neck. Strange. Cobyn didn't frighten him. And if Cobyn had personally touched a hair on Daron's head...

Instinctively Cobyn stepped back, finding himself hard against the wall, looking at those eyes too close to his.

Roban stopped that train of thought, regained sanity. Cobyn hadn't touched Daron though, had he? There had only been the threat. "I assume you are good at throwing your knife. I'm now taking it and you won't move. Understand?"

Cobyn understood. He didn't like it, but for a moment he'd seen death in those eyes.

"There." Roban took Cobyn's knife with his left hand. "I'm leaving now. Don't move until I'm clear of the corridor. I'm ambidextrous and can throw either knife as accurately as an Octagla ball. They will find what killed you was your own knife. No prints."

With that Roban simply turned and left.

Cobyn did move, just turning his head enough to watch Roban leave in his peripheral vision. He was better than good. It was amazing the control he could exert on himself. Admirable. But Zloenni would have to make the next approach herself. His mind went back to the two months he had spent in a very discreet private clinic after his final run-in with Torin and that Octagla defenseman almost as big and mean as Maras. Damned if he was going to do that again! He refused to even consider the death threat.

***

As Roban expected, the door to Maras's room was open and he was positioned watching the corridor. He stepped in, closing and locking the door.

"Well?" Maras demanded.

"Any idea how to dispose of this?" Roban took Cobyn's knife out of his belt. He held it with distaste using two fingers, even though he still had his gloves on.

Maras stared.

"Maras, did you think I was going to walk away on Cobyn when had a knife to throw?"

"He gotta be mad."

Roban shrugged and continued his line of thought. "It doesn't have my prints so I can drop it in a park or something... but I'd sooner he didn't get it back. And he or someone else on Zloenni's staff will be watching me."

"Watching me too," Maras said. "Larr?" But even as he said it, he knew that were dumb. Somehow Zloenni would make sure whoever dropped the knife ended up in trouble with the authorities. Isley needed them all playing.

"Authorities?" Roban said with no enthusiasm. Cobyn and Zloenni were way too at home on the space station for his liking. He'd end up the one in trouble.

"So what happened?" Maras demanded. Disposing of the knife could wait.

"I don't know how, but Zloenni has it in her head I'm in the drug business with Daron's family." Roban made an expression of disgust. "She wants to offer me more money and power." The question was why. Trying to follow her logic, that he was involved, why go after him? There were plenty who would willingly work for her without the risk of crossing Ghen. That took him back to why go after him.

"So what you doing now?" Maras asked, since Roban had moved to the communication console.

"Setting up a secure private call through Spyworks to Ralin Heusgar. I'll take it in my room. You aren't listening in! Hear me?" Ralin was Head of Security for Gingezel.

Maras had no intentions of listening in. He wanted nothing to do with this. He was not ending up in a prison again. "You's getting more mixed up in this mess," he warned.

"I'm not going to get in the middle of things. But Daron and Ghen need to know what happened. Ralin can decide what to tell who." Roban brightened. "Maybe Ralin knows what to do with this thing." He eyed the knife with distaste.

***

"Roban."

It felt exactly like their first meeting when Roban informed Ralin that Zloenni's hit man Vance Greelan was on planet. He was under scrutiny at least, if not suspicion. He wasn't quite sure how Ralin did it, but he made you feel under a microscope. It was more than the compact military build and bearing reinforced by his close cropped blond hair. It was something in those shrewd eyes. Roban tried to meet them. It took effort.

"Sorry to disturb you Ralin, but a situation has come up I do not want to make a mistake handling. Cobyn Gadd has made contact with me. Zloenni has got it into her head I would be interested in employment comparable to Daron's with Ghen." He saw the older man's interest sharpen, but there was still no comment.

"That in itself is not a problem. I can tell her to get lost. But there are two things that trouble me. Why does she want me, me personally? She can't be short of candidates for dirty work. And she can't think I will tell her anything about Ghen, or she wouldn't hire me. I could then equally comfortably talk about her to Ghen. The absence of a reason bothers me."

"And?" Ralin prompted.

So, if there was a reason he wasn't going to hear it. "During the encounter it was necessary to relieve Cobyn of his knife." Roban shrugged helplessly. "So what do I do with the damned thing? If this was planetside I'd just take a drive in the country and bury it. But as it is, I only have a permit for one knife, and we'll be leaving the space station soon. It isn't exactly the sort of thing to just drop somewhere and I'll end up in trouble here or at Tamara!"

Ralin relaxed. Roban was interesting, and very intelligent. He had enough sense to not trust the authorities there. And how the hell did he 'relieve Cobyn of his knife'?

"I can help you with the knife. I have a weapons collectors permit, and that would be a very interesting addition to my collection. I can prearrange all the paper work here, and have a certain courier legally pick it up from you personally in a few hours."

"Thank you! I'm not sure I'd sleep with that thing in my room."

Ralin nodded. "As to your other problem ... I think there is information you might need if Zloenni approaches you again."

"Oh, she'll try," Roban said grimly.

"That pair don't frighten you?" It was as much a statement as a question.

"Cobyn doesn't. I wouldn't extend that to Zloenni. She has brains."

"Yes ... all right. This is pure speculation on my part, but I understand from doing a background check on you that you have a strong computing background at a university level - you're a geek. I think Zloenni is looking for someone to break Ghen's sneaker-net." He was not going to repeat the information they had forced out of Ranga, or even admit they had interrogated him. "I don't need to spell out why. As a friend of Daron's and Ranga's, Zloenni could think you might have a chance if Ghen had no knowledge you were assisting her. Innocently access his lab ... "

"I see." Roban stared off into space. Ranga had really messed up. At last he said, "Yes, I needed to know that for peace of mind and for any further incidents. For the record, just in case Ghen thinks I should get involved, play her, forget it! I want out of this!"

"I think Ghen has already taken action," Ralin said, wondering if he would get more questions he had no intention of answering.

"Good. Then please pass on what you think he or Daron should hear."

Ralin inclined his head. He would have to think about what to pass on. The situation was already too volatile with Daron's father Devon involved. The galaxy was heading for a drug war.

"Thank you Roban. Do I insult you warning you to watch your back? You may be discounting Cobyn too much."

*****

Chapter 13

It was the home court advantage. You couldn't think for the roar, enhanced by feeds from around the galaxy.

"Suns!"

"Suns!"

"Suns!"

Larr had been on so many teams, heard so many chants. But this time the crowd was against him, and the Suns in their yellow and blue uniforms were blazing, ahead 4-0 with three goals by Valskoa.

The fans wanted Menzaille to have one of his shutouts.

"Menzaille!"

"Suns!"

"Suns!"

"Menzaille!"

"Suns!"

Wanted Valskoa to clinch the league scoring title.

"Valskoa!"

"Valskoa!"

"Suns!"

"Suns!"

Larr back-jetted fast, trying to position himself to block Pelfran mid-court from taking the pass from Anhiorl. Anhiorl liked his right wing to carry the play, and usually left that duty to Parnilsak. This time it was a distinct possibility the pass would come to Pelfran though, not Parnilsak. Parnilsak had said something to Tedia a couple minutes ago, and Tedia seemed to have taken offense. He wasn't letting Parnilsak have room to breathe. Larr made a mental note to warn Tedia that it was Parnilsak who had shattered Roban's hand, and that his playing now was dirtier if anything. Then he focused on his own problems.

All right. He saw the slightest flick to Anhiorl's eyes that meant he was passing off. The pass went to Valskoa who had moved in from outer left until he was almost center court. Larr didn't believe that the play would go that way for a moment. Anhiorl may not have had a choice – Valskoa wanted to be top scorer in the league and get MVP for the playoffs at least. And he could be a miserable SOB when crossed. But both Rundell and Mercan were positioned to block him before he got anywhere near Big Luis. There wasn't a chance!

Larr kept moving. A quick glance showed the frustration in Valskoa's handsome face as Big Luis positioned well too. And the wrist motion that started the pass off. Valskoa might be greedy, but he wasn't a fool. All right! Larr shifted from back to forward jets with a force that jarred his spine. But that positioned him to intercept the pass. He did!

One small problem. Pelfran was a little too close, and as mad as the calm collected blond ever got at being robbed. Larr started a cycle of back and sideways jetting, trying to move past. It was not going to work. What are the options? Rundell and Mercan were too far back into the Tamara end. Both Ertwaine and Anhiorl were in a position to block Red. Come on kid, come on!

Tedia must have eyes that could see through the back of his helmet. Larr would swear Tedia hadn't taken his eyes off Parnilsak, but before Larr, or Roban calling the play, could murmur his name, Tedia all of a sudden was doing one of those twisting tumbles he did and was clear. Larr didn't hesitate. He passed off.

Tedia netted the ball. He felt the adrenaline hit as he took a quick look around. No one would be in the Pendrae Suns end fast enough to help. He was near enough to center he could break either way, but Warkiza was the slower moving defenseman, and Warkiza hadn't expected this. He was far out to the right in case Larr caused trouble, and positioned to be ready to follow Larr to the roof. Tedia grinned at that, and came in low and fast.

Another twist, a tumble that almost had his shoulder hitting the floor of the court and he was past Warkiza. It was just himself and Menzaille. Two pairs of dreamy eyes locked, and held. Menzaille, the only goalie to have had a Galactic Pro shutout, and he had six to his credit. Menzaille who had a weak spot about the size of your fist when he covered his right side. Tedia had never heard a sportscaster mention it, but he was sure from watching and watching replays. He didn't hesitate, he didn't telegraph. He shot for that weak spot and found it. With seven seconds to kill in the first period they were in the game!

Pendrae Suns 4, Tamara 1.

***

'Nice shot', Red repeated bitterly in his mind, watching everyone in the whole dressing room cluster around Tedia. A few days ago they all wanted him sent back to Junior A. Now, just because he can run roof and Rall's here to coach him, Tedia is the hero. Well, not with me. I was as close to center as he was. Larr could have passed to me. Bitterly he took a swig of juice.

"Gengo," Isley said as the uproar subsided, "I want you to try first string, see how you work with Larr and Tedia."

The three on the roof were looking good in practice so it was time to see them in the court.

"Rundell, how is your wrist? It looked like you were favoring it last shift – and if you say it's fine I'll ask Doc to corroborate!"

"I could stand to miss a shift," Rundell agreed reluctantly.

"Greg, take both shifts then, yours and Rundell's. But tell me when you start to feel it. I don't want to repeat Chan." Greg was another man would do whatever was asked of him.

With a rueful grin Isley decided he'd better explain that to a confused looking Greg. "Marti is still down on me for putting Chan in the hospital." He watched the shock, the quick exchanged looks between Greg and Marco. "We all work for a fashion designing grandmother – remember?"

Big Luis led the laughter. "And make her enough money to stay in the Gingezel Consortium." That took a lot of money, being in the group of five who owned a whole planet. Big Luis turned to Greg. "So, no heroics or Isley hears about it." He started laughing again.

Isley took the teasing and laughter with good humor for about a half minute, letting the tension in the room dissipate. Then he raised his hand.

"Enough. Our strategy is simple. Let's get Menzaille out of goal. You saw he didn't like Tedia scoring. Don't force the play, but if you can score again Tedia – or you Greg or Marco since he considers you both to be from the minors, he'll have one of his temper tantrums. Understand?" Isley scanned the room to grins and nods. Except Red. Gengo, please look good out there.

*****

Chapter 14

Anhiorl took in a quick breath as he saw Gengo jetting in to take the opening face-off for the second period, not Red. He'd never met Gengo, but of course he knew who he was. Every center in the galaxy knew who Gengo was, son of the great Li. Every center in the galaxy wondered why he was staying planetary pro. Did this mean he'd finally been seriously tempted?

"Anhiorl," Gengo nodded formally, acknowledging his opponent. Anhiorl was very good. It would be interesting to be up against him.

Their eyes met and held for a moment before Anhiorl said, "Gengo."

Bourara positioned himself, releasing the ball. As the sticks slid along each other Gengo felt a slight sideways pressure from Anhiorl, the sudden release of the same pressure trying to put him off balance. Li had taught him to do that when he was playing juvenile. He didn't use it, but it was instinct to counter it. He applied his own twisting pressure, a slide, netted the ball and secured it as Anhiorl gave him a solid stick check.

"Pattern six, keep it low," Roban murmured. It was a play that would work just as well off the roof, and it would be interesting to see how Warkiza handled the positioning. Gengo, Tedia, and Larr would be coming in with quite a spread, Larr almost at the wall. Which one Warkiza decided to focus on would affect how they ran it on the roof. Uncle Barranb had three suggestions based on his simulations and Rall said they were all viable.

Gengo passed off to Mercan, taking the focus off the left wing.

"Greg, hombre!" Mercan gave him a wink, a grin on his mobile café-au-lait face, as he netted the ball. Just because Roban called play six didn't mean it had to go that way, did it? Maybe he or Greg could get a fast goal now, on the opening face-off. Menzaille would hate that.

Uh huh. Greg mentally shrugged and moved not to take a pass, but to keep Valskoa from moving in on Mercan. He liked Mercan, but that guy had messed up more game plans...

Warkiza was ignoring Mercan, Roban decided, obviously defining any motion on that side as Kip's problem. And his focus was on Gengo. Interesting... would that last or was it just that he was assessing him because Gengo was an unknown?

Mercan was pushing in fast, but Ertwaine suddenly swerved at him, almost kicking him in the face. Bastard! If he wasn't busy holding the ball, he'd make damned sure Ertwaine had a bruised ankle for that stunt. As it was, Mercan swore, ducked and rolled. On an adrenaline rush he was free. Except... except instinct told Mercan to pass off fast. Gengo was clear. Greg was in a shoving match with Valskoa.

He passed to Gengo just as Ertwaine connected with a solid crosscheck to the back left of his ribs. How the hell did he get there? Ertwaine was having a good game, like his off-season buddy Larr. With no ball to carry Mercan turned to let him know what he thought of these new tricks.

Gengo kept going, accelerating full speed. They had to finish the play fast, before Mercan did something really stupid. They didn't need a penalty right now. Focus. Force Warkiza to move to center. That's right. Don't break eye contact except to check Menzaille's position.

"Larr?"

"Yo."

The pass was fast. Gengo barely looked to see Larr's position.

Larr caught it easily, accelerated, and hit not the roof but the wall at a run. One stride secured the contact to enable the extra force in the shot. He took it. Without that new move Roban had worked out, Doc would have been resetting a dislocated shoulder, but he managed the shot. It was oblique. Too oblique? He'd shot for the goalpost. Larr held his breath. Okay! The post deflected it in.

Tamara 2 Suns 4

"I thought you run roof now, not walls," Warkiza said with a good natured grin as the mob around Larr broke up. "Best shot I've seen you make!"

***

"Nice save, Mikey!" Big Luis bellowed as Mercan, Greg, and Valskoa raced for the rebound. He did not add 'next time smother the damned thing!' like he would have to Tarell. Isley had taken him for a drink to have a little talk with him, and told him to watch his mouth with Mikey. Then he focused on Ertwaine who was quietly hanging back nearest to the goal.

Greg got the ball and disposed of Valskoa with a butt end he'd been wanting to deliver for a couple years now but somehow hadn't felt entitled to deliver as a sub. Satisfied by the shock on Valskoa's face, and even more by the fact the ref didn't call it, he took the play into the Suns' end.

***

This were good. Maras relaxed to watch the scrambling play at the far end. Two goals this close an' Menzaille were gonna fold. He didn't like a kid like Tedia scorin', and he'd really given the goal post a whack with his stick when Larr scored. Sure sign he were pissed. And whenever they put Broygum in, he had real trouble stopping Rundell or Red on a shot low left.

Too many bodies. Maras couldn't see. Then all of a sudden the light went on. Grinning he turned to Big Luis.

"Who?" Maras demanded.

"Mercan – I think - maybe Greg."

Even as Big Luis said it, they heard Tedia on the team intercom.

"Way to go, hombre!"

It was followed by a string of rapid Latino that Big Luis got and Maras didn't catch a word of. But they both got the right idea. Tedia was delighted for his friend Greg getting a goal.

***

"Scimkla has to pull Menzaille now," Daron said from his hospital bed in Crescent Bay. "Look at him!"

Menzaille had turned his back to the court, put his arms on the goalposts, and was just slumped there.

Chan looked. He supposed Daron was right. He supposed he should care. He supposed he should be and do a lot of things, but right now he was taking the path of least resistance. Like this morning. After he'd arrived at the clinic Trevarr had checked him out and done some blood work and said his electrolytes were marginally improved. He supposed so, but he sure couldn't tell by the way he felt. Mai had put him in another bath with something in it that had smelled horrid and made him nauseous, but it had been easier to just lay there. And after the bath, there'd been sweats to wear if he wanted them, but a robe was easier to put on. He was still in it. He took another swig of nauseating electrolyte blend.

"You never drank that crap in the dressing room," Daron said accusingly.

"It's fine. It's good for me."

Knett took his feet off the coffee table, flexing his weight lifter's shoulders to ease them. Here we go again. A player thinking because they were sick they didn't have control.

"Chan, what are your favorite beverages and food? I'm not going to repeat 'Nurse's' mistake." Nurse was his predecessor, and had mishandled Daron. "I can put the meds you need in anything."

There was no answer. Knett looked at Daron.

Daron listed what Chan liked while Chan stared blankly at the holovision.

Knett nodded and left. It was all good nutritious food.

"No-neck Knett's okay. Even Reno likes him." Daron looked for confirmation to his small dark wiry soccer playing friend on the Plenata Windridge team.

Reno nodded and put his feet up on the table now that it was free. Trevarr was training them to death, but the improvement would show on the soccer field. "A real hazard," he agreed.

They watched as Scimkla waved Menzaille to the bench.

"Told you!" Daron said.

Chan didn't say a thing.

Daron hesitated, then said, "Reno, take a walk."

"Sure." Reno took his feet down and left, shutting the door.

"Chan, I know you were high and I don't mean on what Doc gave you. I mean on the game. But now, are you bitter it's Marco and Greg out there in the playoffs, not you?"

Chan gave that serious thought. Right now he was bitter about everything. But that was the illness. At least he wasn't seriously psychotic. He'd paint the bad mood away.

"Ask me in three weeks."

Paint... Chan realized there was someone missing. "Where's Ranga? I haven't seen him all day."

"Theoretically he's staying with his dad, but my sister Elvira has got her own suite now that he's not sleeping here, and they're there."

"Oh ..." Chan decided he could be mildly interested in the world after all.

*****

Chapter 15

The period ended 4 to 3. As Roban was watching the team jet past him toward the dressing room he could feel eyes on him. Not just eyes. When he was in an Octagla court he was used to fans' eyes on him. He meant the kind of eyes that matter. The kind that you ignored at the risk of cracked ribs.

Instinct took over, and he found himself looking at a private box, straight into Zloenni's eyes. They weren't hostile, or friendly. More assessing, like a defenseman wondering what you were going to do next. Roban ignored the fact Zloenni had outdone herself tonight beyond a fleeting thought 'seductive'. Her mane of red curls was glowing. Her makeup was perfection. Her moss green designer weightless unitard was low-cut and glittered slightly, sparkling in a shade that matched her eyes. The suit jacket she had over it was not remotely businesslike.

He watched impassively as her eyes widened artfully and she smiled. There was a wave, an invitation to come to the box for this or the longer half-time break. Roban shook his head. No. The smile became more seductive, and she leaned forward, a hand carefully moving a few curls. The wave again.

Roban shook his head, mouthed 'No' again, and for good measure added a hand sign he used in the Octagla court but had never used with a woman. It was usually good for a butt end.

He watched the shock, the pallor, and the pallor being replaced by an unbecoming scarlet blush. She turned to say something to Cobyn, but he wasn't there. That man could move, and he'd moved at the hand sign. Roban could just see him at the back of the box. He caught Cobyn's eyes. Understand me? Cobyn apparently did, since he left the box.

***

Larr waited until everyone was busy, then casually walked down the dressing room to where Roban was sitting by himself, lost in thought.

"You didn't quite get that right, you know."

"Mm?"

"This is appropriate for a lady." He gave a slightly different hand sign.

"Is it equally vulgar?"

"No, it's for a lady like I said."

"She's no lady. I'll go with what I used." Roban was looking past Larr. "And here comes Tedia." That kid seemed to be able to see everything in a room at once.

"Señors," Tedia gave them a nervous smile. This might be a very private conversation, but those hand signs... "Can I ask Señor Roban, who the beautiful woman you iced was?"

"That was Zloenni, the drug lord," Roban said matter-of-factly and watched those dreamy, unfocused amber eyes widen with shock, then grow meditative.

"She looks different than on holovision." Tedia wobbled a hand indicating some subtle change.

He still looked a little too curious Larr decided. "Watch out, Tedia. She likes to prey on Octagla players, especially young ones on opposing teams."

"That's partly why Ghen busted Ranga's hand," Roban added as reinforcement. "He found out Ranga was sleeping with her."

Tedia's agile mind noted the word partly. He would give a lot to hear the rest of the story, but not in a dressing room. He'd watched that fight six times now. The announcers could buy that Ranga's father lost his temper. He didn't. "Not smart, si?"

"Getting caught?" Larr asked dryly. Tedia was still was way too interested, and he decided Tedia was no innocent despite the wide-eyed little boy trick.

"Sleeping with your pater's rival. And someone like her." He lapsed into a Latino patois that disabused Larr of any potential interest, then turned to Roban.

"Señor Roban, I think Señor Larr was correcting your hand sign." He turned to Larr. "These might be like ComLan, not the same galaxy wide. But perhaps this is more appropriate?" He moved so only Roban and Larr could see his hand and made a gesture.

Larr burst out laughing and gave Tedia a clout.

"What was that, and do I want to use it?" Roban demanded.

"Later, in private. In the circumstances, using it borders on suicidal."

***

"You certainly made yourself scarce!"

The ice in Zloenni's eyes and the venom in her voice had little effect on Cobyn. He'd dealt with both too often over the years.

"I kept you from saying something indiscreet in public." Cobyn waved at the soundproof walls of the two person privacy booth they were in. "And don't bother to say you want Roban delivered in slices. I won't do it."

He stopped the hand that lashed out to slap his face. "Calm down enough to listen, Zloenni!"

"Listen? You're afraid of a little Octagla player!" The ice was now layered with contempt.

"Fear is an overstatement. I respect him."

Even that was said grudgingly. There were very few Cobyn granted that respect. Ghen Kulgalu. Devon Soimvell. One or two others. He remembered his first encounter with Roban, and Roban simply turning his back and walking away like Ghen or Devon would have. He remembered that knife at his throat, and Cobyn knew he was fast himself. Roban would make an admirable colleague. He could see why Ghen and Devon valued him so. No wonder he wouldn't talk to Zloenni. Ghen probably paid him a fortune. For a fleeting moment Cobyn considered comparing salaries. Zloenni could be tedious. But no, Ghen was taking Daron too personally. Later perhaps, when this all calmed down.

"What is relevant is that Roban isn't afraid or interested. What's to be gained by trying to change that to intimidated? I thought you wanted an ally."

Yes, she did. Zloenni forced herself to ignore the insult she'd been given. "Since you're so smart, how do I do that?"

Cobyn shrugged. "You're the strategist. But you need one thing clear. Have you researched Maras?"

Zloenni stared.

"Here's his prison record for assault." Cobyn held the appalling, factual statement in front of her.

Zloenni read, her eyes narrowing.

"He loses his temper, Zloenni. And don't tell me you have the weapons and bodyguards to protect yourself if he does. For whatever reason he and Roban are as close now as Daron and Roban were." And to him that was very interesting. Was Roban recruiting? "Remember Torin and that other big dumb brute of a defenseman? You didn't win there. And I'm not a junior member of your organization out to impress you by landing in intensive care." Cobyn's face was hard.

"Find a different way to win here, Zloenni."

*****

Chapter 16

How did Gengo make taking a face-off from Anhiorl look so easy? Red hadn't managed to get a single face-off this period, and he didn't get this one either. Red took his frustration out in a stick check that sent the ball flying and had both of their sticks vibrating. Hell!

'Couldn't anything go right?' he asked himself as it was Tedia who got the ball. Mechanically Red followed the play into the Suns. end. His sour mood deepened when Tedia scored giving them the security goal.

***

Red watched warily as the man who was going to replace him approached, Octagla stick in one hand, electrolyte tea in the other.

"Can I talk you, Red?" Gengo motioned toward the empty end of the locker room, to an area partially screened from sight by a wall of storage modules.

"Why?" Red asked bluntly.

The impassivity on Gengo's face didn't change, and his voice stayed low and soft. But he had two thoughts. I see why they don't like Red. And he thinks I'm out to replace him.

"Anhiorl."

Red was desperate. He'd take advice from anyone right now. He rose.

"Bring your stick."

Confused, Red picked it up and followed Gengo to the area out of line of sight.

"I should have showed you this in practice, but I didn't think." Gengo put his beverage on a bench and waved Red to a position opposite him. "You're younger than Anhiorl. In juvenile did they train you to do this?"

Gengo raised his stick and waited while Red reluctantly positioned his. With extreme exaggeration Gengo did the pressure and release, then again even more subtly than Anhiorl.

Red shook his head, feeling like a total idiot now that he knew.

It showed. Redheads blushed.

"It's one of the few tricks of Li's you can teach a kid, so for a while everyone taught it. If they really master it like Anhiorl obviously did, you don't always feel it coming until it's almost too late. I know – he mixes the tricks, and he almost got me with that one once."

"Only once." Red's voice was sarcastic, bitter.

"I got taught by the guy who invented it," Gengo said mildly.

Oh, I know. Son of the famous Li. Red kept his mouth shut but his eyes and face were hard.

"You want to practice it a few times, make it muscle memory?" Gengo raised his stick.

Oh, he wanted, desperately. But damned if he was taking charity from Gengo. Red's stick stayed where it was.

Gengo lowered his own stick. "I'm not out to take your position, Red."

No. You already have it. Red started to turn away.

Gengo's hand shot out and caught Red's forearm in a steel grip. "Look Red, I don't know what your problem is, but it isn't me. When I came up, I made it clear I was only here for however long the playoffs were." He saw total disbelief. Fine. Maybe the facts of life would take this guy down a notch or two.

"When the playoffs started, Isley offered me Daron's position with Daron's salary and bonuses." He watched Red's eyes narrow, jealousy in them.

"I said no. Doing this once will be interesting but it isn't the way I want to spend my life. Obviously it's what you want. So prove to him you're up to Daron's caliber." The last was said with ice that matched Red's. Red had a long way to go to match Daron, as a player or a man.

Gengo turned and walked back to the main room. He wasn't surprised to find Isley just around the corner. That was why he'd kept his voice low.

"Problems?"

Gengo shook his head. "Anhiorl is just using an old trick of dad's that Red is too young to have run into. I just straightened him out."

Isley had good ears. He'd heard every word. A bit more than that had been cleared up.

*****

Chapter 17

"Great save, Mikey! You even smothered this one!" Oops! Big Luis didn't have to look at the bench. He could imagine the glare he was getting.

"Kevin, give Mikey a breather," Isley said without taking his eyes off the court. The Suns were hot, hungry, aggressive, trying to turn the hard fought game around in the last ten minutes.

Kevin nodded and jetted out as Bourara was setting up the face-off. "Getting shellshocked yet, Mikey?" he asked with a grin.

Mikey returned the grin and rolled his eyes. This was great! Somehow in the barrage of shots he hadn't had time to be nervous and had relaxed instead of tensing up. But his body was screaming for an electrolyte beverage. He didn't wish Kevin good luck, that would be bad luck.

"Have fun."

"I'll try to not lose your lead."

Mikey laughed.

'Uh huh, shellshocked', Kevin thought.

***

Kevin didn't smother this one. He was lucky to get a piece of it. He watched in disbelief as Maras disposed of Parnilsak with a vicious butt end that doubled the tough man up, then beat Pelfran to the bounce. He knew the guys had said the big man was going for MVP, but with the energy he was putting out how was he still moving this late in the game?

Okay. Maras grunted in satisfaction as he felt the ball settle deep in the elastic polymer of his net. He felt it, not saw it because he was tearing from the pooled sweat under his eyes. He blinked hard as he turned. Better pass to Larr, not Tedia. Larr could catch anything. Maras really put his back into the pass.

Damned defensemen! Larr swore under his breath as he stretched to his limit to net the pass. Move it time. There was only Pelfran for him and Tedia to worry about since Parnilsak was still doubled up waiting in vain for Bourara to call Maras on the butt end. Usually Bourara didn't miss a thing, Larr thought as he started working into the Suns' end. Some luck for us for once!

Okay, that wasn't in any game plan! Larr watched in disbelief as another really dirty move didn't get called. Tedia had decided to see how much he could slow Pelfran down. The kid was good at it too, blocking sight of his slash. No doubt some camera would catch it and Bourara would hear about it from the fans, but he wasn't calling it now. That was all that counted.

Larr was in the clear. He veered for the roof. Warkiza was positioning himself in neutral territory. He obviously wasn't being suckered again. Broygum in goal just looked wary. This should be interesting. He wouldn't run roof. At the last second he'd dive down fast and straight at Warkiza like Rall had taught him in practice.

It worked! As the goal light went on Larr shouted on a private channel, "Maras, you got your assist!" He knew Maras was only six below the league record for assists by a defenseman.

***

Red was ready this time for it the sudden application and release of pressure trick Anhiorl did. He took the face-off, and passed to Mercan. Rundell was playing a shift and they started pressing into the Suns' end, passing back and forth. Back and forth. A routine Red knew so well.

Damn! Mercan swore as Anhiorl swerved at him. Changing trajectory he scanned the court. Valskoa was really starting to crowd Rundell, and he wasn't above slashing Rundell's bad wrist so Rundell had to stay focussed. No pass off there. Okay Kip, can I get past you from here? Kip was fast and limber for a defenseman. No... but I'll bet I can draw you this way...

"Red!" he warned his teammate as he lured Kip closer and closer to the wall. A fast pass...

The pass was easy to net. Ball in his net, Red moved in on Broygum with perhaps an extra second's ease. In an Octagla game a second is a long time. He knew that weak spot upper right, found it. Scored! That felt so good! Red grinned his first real smile of the game as his team mates piled on him.

"Mikey. Time to close the game." Isley appeared to be watching the team pile on Red, but in reality was watching Mikey. There was no sign of nerves, just a salute and the grin he was used to when Mikey was backup to Tarell.

***

Big Luis firmly kept his mouth shut because Isley had said 'NO PARTIES!' while they were on the Pendrae space station but his brain screamed, "Party Time!" They'd taken the first game of the semifinals 11 - 8! The cheers of Tamara fans from across the galaxy fed into the arena almost drowning out the boos of the Pendrae Suns' fans. We won! Party time! Big Luis settled for doing a happy dance, waving his stick, and hugging various teammates as they started to cluster around Mikey. The kid did it. He didn't fold.

"Hombre!" Marco jetted out of the team box, Greg close behind him.

Tedia stopped his progress to join the group congratulating Mikey to grin at Marco. "Is this real?"

"Let Maras thump you to congratulate you and it will be real enough," Marco laughed. He'd done subbing in semifinals before and seen games won or lost. But this was different. He was on the team and they were going for the three-peat! He gave Tedia a clout that was, for a much smaller man, a remarkably close rival to the ones Maras gave.

Larr released Mikey and looked up to the team box where Rall was, wondering if he would see any encouragement. To his surprise Rall had an ear to ear grin and gave him a thumbs up. Larr returned the thumbs up and worked his way out to the edge of the crush where Gengo waited, slightly the outsider.

"Feels good, Gengo." Larr smiled. "Rall even gave me a thumbs up. You had a good game. Think the win will improve Li's mood?" They'd compared notes on fathers after the first private practice with Rall.

"No," Gengo said simply. "That's not his style." Then he smiled. "I'm glad for you Larr."

Larr knew they weren't talking about the game. "Give him time. Li will get over your not signing with Isley." To his surprise, Gengo laughed, a real laugh.

"Don't bet on it. But that's his problem."

***

Rundell slumped against the dressing room wall, grin on his face and compad in his good hand while Doc applied a neuroblock to the other wrist.

"No I did not damage my wrist, honey." He knew his wife was just transferring her concerns about carrying their baby to full term to him. "Dammit, Doc! Watch it!"

He burst out laughing at what his wife said to that, then his expression changed. "Yes, I'll be real careful. And you take care of yourself too. Okay? I'll talk to you more when I'm alone in my room."

Maras looked up from carefully drying his shin. He'd been first in the showers for once because it took forever to braid his hair then put the gold tubes over it, and he wanted it just right for when he called Cailla.

"How's the baby doing?"

"The doctor still says to be careful, but the pregnancy is looking better every day." They had been so sure she was headed for a late-term miscarriage. Rundell firmly put that out of his mind. Think of the game. They'd won!

"That's good." Must be a worry, her not carrying good. His mom had never missed a day of work carrying his siblings. A year or so from now, would he and Cailla be waitin' for a baby? She sure were the kind of woman he wanted to marry. Only problem there were he hadn't asked her. Were a long ways from asking her.

Maras put that aside, and like Rundell focused on tonight. They'd won! And it were a good win too, hard-fought. He'd helped that win a lot. And he'd got one more assist to his credit. That had to count towards the MVP. Yup. It were a good night. Would be better if Big Luis were having one of his parties, and he could sit and eat and watch everybody dance. But Isley had laid the law down. No 'We Party' here on the Pendrae space station.

And would be even better than a party if Cailla were waitin' outside the door, not a bunch of yippy reporters. But she were on planet trying to work in a book tour for her new volume of poetry before the training camp for the Nebula. Maras shifted to drying the other leg and started planning what to say when he called her.

*****

Chapter 18

Although it was the largest on the space station, the sitting room in Maras's suite was still small. With four men and five pet carriers in it, it was cramped. At least, Roban thought, some sense had prevailed and there weren't nine pet carriers like Maras had wanted. The store owner had convinced Maras that he'd bring two dogs with different temperaments of each breed, so there would be choice. At the last minute, he couldn't get two Speix Terriers, so the number had dropped to five.

"So, where do we start?" Maras's expression was the one of happy anticipation usually reserved for a well laden table.

Larr and Roban looked at each other and grinned. "Get it over with, check out your Cocker's paniels."

Lemailtie, the pet shop owner, a small wiry man with ginger colored hair obediently stepped over the carrier beside him, reached past another, and lifted a blue carrier with a white top onto the coffee table. "This is Honeydew," he said as he opened the carrier. "Her father has been showing very well the past two years. Exceptional form. Her bitch is excellent stock, but hasn't showed."

Once he decided to be a dog owner, Maras had tried watching a dog show on holovision. They pulled the dog's legs apart funny and tried to get them to look straight ahead like they was blind or something. So he weren't impressed by this claim. He watched impassively as the lid was snapped up. Then a bright eyed, sturdy looking pup was trying to climb out and look all around the room at the same time.

"Sit, Honeydew."

Reluctantly Honeydew sat, still looking every which way. Maras extended his hand, and she took a polite sniff, still looking around.

The store owner lifted a second blue and white carrier. "And this is Cornsilk." He lifted the lid of the carrier to expose a much smaller pup, sound asleep in a corner of the carrier. "Her bitch is exceptionally good with people, and her pups tend to be, so she should travel well. Come on Cornsilk." The man reached in, patted her, then ruffled her fur. "Wake up."

Cornsilk opened a bleary eye and yawned.

Maras grinned. "Hello Cornsilk."

What a stupid name for a dog, but she did look silky and her hair were about two shades lighter than the bigger pup's. He extended his hand. Cornsilk looked like she was trying hard to focus on the approaching object, and when his hand almost touched her nose, she gave him a big lick and rubbed against him. He picked her up.

"You all done in from the trip, little lady?"

She yawned, wiggled, and tried to lick his face, but it was too far away. She were so cute and soft. And that was that.

Lemailtie knew a potential sale when he saw it. "Cornsilk comes from a line of exceptionally small miniatures. That makes her an excellent choice for space travel."

Saying that to one of the largest men in the galaxy, and one who traveled constantly and was accommodated despite his size apparently did not strike the man as ludicrous, but it did Roban and Larr and they had to avoid meeting each other's eyes.

"She is also likely to be very docile. Her bitch is, and so are the others in the line."

Docile. It wasn't a word Maras knew, and he couldn't tell by the man's expression if he was saying something good, or he were warning him. Maras frowned.

The owner took that as indecision. "Perhaps you'd like to see the others to be sure?"

It must be bad then. Maras felt a pang of regret. Cornsilk were so cute, and she were already half-asleep in his lap. "I suppose you'd better show 'em."

Roban had a pretty good idea what was going on. Since going over Cailla's poetry with Maras, he realized that whatever Maras had done at school, it wasn't pay attention to his classes. "So what exactly do you mean by docile?" he asked quietly. "Just that she'll be well behaved and quiet? Or do you mean she'll sleep all the time?"

Docile. That was pretty word for someone with the sleepies. The budding poet filed that incorrect definition away in his mind.

Lemailtie looked at the now sound asleep pup. "She may sleep a lot. Her bitch is lazy – it's an effort to keep her in shape. But I meant she will have a sweet temperament."

None of that were bad. Maras smiled at the pup. "I'll keep the little lady firmed up workin' out."

"Then you want her?" Lemailtie asked cautiously. He was the one getting confused now. "Or do you still want to see the rest?"

"Both," Maras said. "I like this one, but you brought 'em up so let's see 'em." This would be fun, puppies all over. "Roban!" he added with an imperceptible nod.

Roban made a fast grab at his end of the coffee table where Honeydew had managed to climb out of the carrier and had decided the jump to the floor wasn't all that far.

"Oh no you don't!" Roban caught Honeydew midair with no difficulty. That was all they needed, a pup under the couch. He put the squirming creature on his lap. "You stay here."

"I'll put her back in her carrier with the lid."

"No need." Roban was petting the pup with one hand, the other hand firmly holding her still.

"Let 'em all out," Maras commanded. "You'll probably get three sold."

"Maras," Larr said patiently, "we've been over that. You're getting a dog. Roban and I are helping. That's all."

"Uh huh. You want to just ship the beagles back and not look?" Maras asked, then laughed at the look on Larr's face. "Give him a beagle to hold." After all, they'd paid a lot to ship them up. They'd play with them a while. "We'll let you know when you can take 'em back."

Obediently Lemailtie went to a red and white carrier where a black nose was pressed to the grill. He had no objections to spending time with three of the superstars on the Tamara team. His son was thirteen, and his daughter fifteen, and they had insisted he ask for holograms before he left the players. They'd love any stories he could bring back. He was pretty sure his daughter had a crush on Larr, and his son knew all the stats of all the players. He replaced an empty blue and white carrier with the red and white one and snapped off the lid.

"This is Jellybean," he said. "Because of the shape of her markings."

Jellybean was real cute, bright eyed and curious, trying to see everything at once. About the only difference between her and Honeydew, Maras decided, were she stayed put. She were cute, but she wasn't a Cocker's paniel. Maras made no move to handle her. "Say hello, Larr."

"Maras." Larr was mildly embarrassed.

"I got the one I want, but that pup made a long trip for nothin' if you don't even let her play a little." He looked to where Roban and Honeydew were involved in a finger chewing growl game and contentedly petted Cornsilk. She leaned into the caress.

Larr shrugged and extended a hand to the pup. Bright eyes or not, he didn't need a dog. He had a little boy to take care of. Besides, he'd said he was taking a pup sometime down the road from Maras.

"Hello there."

Jellybean sniffed, and wriggled.

"Need to stretch?" Larr was standing himself, leaning on a wall. He picked up the pup and put her by his feet. She looked around, then at him.

"She's waiting for a command," Lemailtie explained. "She's old enough to be well trained."

"Sit," Larr said, and reached down to pet Jellybean after she sat. "Can I see the other?"

The next red and white carrier was placed on the table. "And this is Bingo. Her bitch has two galactic awards." The lid came off and another beagle, as bright and curious as the first, surveyed the room.

"Hello, Bingo," Larr said and extended a hand. Bingo watched the approaching hand, sniffed and growled. Larr froze.

"Bingo. Where are your manners?" Lemailtie gave the dog a reassuring pet. "Try again sir."

This time, the growl was louder and Larr jerked his hand back.

Maras said, "Let me try."

Remembering the pet shop, Roban said, "Be careful."

Maras had every intention of being careful. Bingo might be just a baby, but she had teeth. He said, "Hello Bingo. Do you want to be friends?"

Bingo looked at him curiously, took a dubious sniff, then allowed herself to have her head stroked. It felt good, and a spot near her left ear itched. She wiggled, trying to guide Maras there.

"She likes me fine." Maras reached forward to put Bingo on his lap too. This woke Cornsilk, and the two pups started sniffing each other.

Meanwhile, Larr had crouched down about a meter from Jellybean. "Come here, Jellybean." The little dog came, got petted, and tried to climb up on him. "Sit, Jellybean." Reluctantly she sat. "They're well-trained," he observed.

"Thank you," Lemailtie replied just as Honeydew escaped from Roban and tried to go join the two pups rolling on Maras's lap. "Sit Honeydew."

She totally ignored Lemailtie and joined the tumble.

"Mostly trained," Maras corrected. "But they's just kids. Get Roban the Speix terrier since he hasn't anything now."

*****

Chapter 19

After a moment's hesitation, Lemailtie replaced a red and white carrier with a solid green one. "To be quite honest, sir, I'd sooner not. There were shipping and quarantine problems, and she got here late. I couldn't bring her to the surface first. In fact, there was just time to transfer her to the carrier from a live cargo box, and, well –" words failed him. This was mortifying given the celebrity audience.

"She stinks pretty good?" Maras asked helpfully. He knew what it were like when the words wouldn't come. It was real good if someone helped out. "We don't mind, do we?" he asked his mates.

"Not me," Roban said. "I'm a farm boy."

Larr was too busy seeing if Jellybean would heel while he walked up and down along the wall to answer. Jellybean would be a great present to take his son Al on Tamara, but Al wouldn't be old enough to take care of a dog for a few years. Surely Rall couldn't object if the dog was well-trained? Larr determinedly suppressed doubts generated by his never having been allowed a dog.

Maras didn't notice Larr's lack of response because his attention, or rather all of the attention that wasn't being demanded by the three pups who had decided they should climb his chest and lick him, was on the unopened carrier.

"You mean she's been locked up in a box for days, then you just put her in another one, without letting her run around or nothing? That's terrible!"

Maras favored Lemailtie with his best scowl. Ever since he did his prison time he couldn't stand the idea of something being locked up. Maras knew he hadn't been treated bad, but he'd been locked up.

"I'm sorry, sir. There simply wasn't time."

"Well, you should have let her out first then!" Maras was not mollified. "Honeydew! Stop that!" Honeydew had won the lick the face game by climbing up on a pillow. Now she'd got hold of a hair tube and was pulling it.

"Sit!" Roban intervened since Lemailtie was speechless in the face of Maras's wrath.

Bingo and Cornsilk obediently sat, as did Jellybean, which confused Larr for a moment since he hadn't been listening. Honeydew totally ignored the command and tugged harder, starting to growl. She liked the new game. It was better than chewing on Roban's thumb.

Maras took the direct solution. He gave Honeydew a little swat which she took as part of the game, rolled with it, and attacked his hand, not his hair.

"Spunky little thing, aren't you?" Maras asked approvingly as he extricated his thumb from Honeydew's mouth. "But that's enough. Sit still." It was the tone Maras had used to keep three brothers in line, and it still worked. Honeydew tilted her head, looked at him, and sat very still.

"Good." Maras transferred his attention to the carrier. "Let her out. She got a name?"

"The manifest said 'Atikujla'." Lemailtie pronounced it doubtfully, stressing the first syllable.

"Atikujla," Roban corrected, placing the emphasis on the third syllable and lisping the 'la'. "It means ember or glowing coal."

That sounded right for a red doggie. Remembering the images of the frisky, bouncy little doggies, Maras looked expectantly at the carrier as the lid came off. He was disappointed though. The little creature were hunkered down in the corner of the carrier, shivering and whimpering.

"She all right?" Maras asked, as Roban reached towards the carrier.

"Atikujla?" Roban asked.

This was followed by some words Maras's translator didn't get, then more that were translated as things like "nice doggie", "it's all right", "good doggie" as Roban stroked the shivering mass.

Roban shifted to ComLan. "It's all right Atikujla, we won't hurt you." He picked the little red fur-ball up and put her on his lap.

Bingo and Honeydew started over to say hello to the stranger.

"Hey you two. Stay put for now." Maras grabbed two pups at the waist, and Bingo yelped in protest.

Atikujla gave Maras a terrified look and disgraced herself. She didn't pee on the carpet, she peed on Roban's leg.

As Roban swore, Lemailtie realized what had happened and grabbed the pup.

"Bad dog!" He gave her a much milder swat than Maras had Honeydew for pulling his hair and put Atikujla rapidly in the litter box he had placed on the floor soon as he arrived.

"It's all right," Roban was heading for the bathroom.

Once Roban stood up, it was obvious the couch was damaged too. Lemailtie was mortified.

"Bad dog!" He picked the pup up again by the scruff of her neck, shoved her nose in the stain, and repeated "Bad dog!" Then Lemailtie put her back on the litter box.

It was too much for Atikujla. She closed her eyes, hunkered down, and started to howl, a shrill, piteous sound. Cornsilk joined in.

Maras gave the pet store owner a totally disgusted look. "Why'd you do that? She don't mean wrong. She's just little and scared." He was thinking about doing more than just telling the man off, but Cornsilk was shaking too now, and she needed him.

Larr saved him the trouble. He was already standing and was furious at what he saw as animal abuse. Towering over the poor pet store owner, he told Lemailtie so in language he usually reserved for a dirty check the referee missed. Larr shifted his footing and almost stepped on Jellybean, who had a pup-sized idea of what 'heel' meant and was underfoot.

No harm was done, but she yelped, and scooted out of the way, then came back to stand right at his heel, as bristly as he was and growling furiously.

Larr looked down, amusement replacing fury. "So you're protecting your new master, are you, little one? If I tell you, will you go bite his ankle?" Jellybean looked quite willing. Larr reached down and picked her up. "Let be, no one's hurt you." Then his eyes narrowed, and he glared at Lemailtie furious again. "Or is that how you treat all your animals?"

Lemailtie finally found his voice, and it was as furious as Larr's had been. "I've never abused an animal in my life! I'm in the business because I love animals. But I would also never sell a totally untrained creature which that –" He pointed, and Atikujla saw the move and started to howl again, "thing is." His expression changed abruptly. "Abused..." Lemailtie looked at the abject little creature. "Galaxy! I wonder!" Alarmed now he crouched down.

As Atikujla doubled her volume Maras clenched his teeth, petting Cornsilk to soothe her.

The bathroom door opened and Roban stepped out, still mopping at his trousers with a towel. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

"It's Atikujla," Lemailtie said. "I think she's had some abuse or trauma in her past. She's not going to let me near her now that I scolded her. Will you try?"

As Maras watched in concern, again there was that stream of words that didn't translate, and a lot of 'good', and 'nice' and 'doggy'.

Roban sat there, crouched low to not be threatening, until the little thing let him touch her, then picked her up. She was shaking. He stood cradling Atikujla. "I think you're right." He stroked the little creature. There was nothing to her.

As Roban went to sit, Maras said, "I'd keep that towel under her if I was you. That little baby isn't trained yet."

Roban looked from Maras to the pup, then back to Maras. "Sometimes," he said slowly, "I think you're the smartest man I know."

Maras beamed. It was a compliment he never expected to have, and coming from Roban who really were smart, it meant something. He had no idea what he'd done that were smart though.

Roban transferred his attention to Lemailtie. "How old is she?"

"I honestly don't know exactly. Let me check." He called up Atikujla's documents and read the age to Roban.

"Do you know the breed?" Roban asked.

Lemailtie shook his head. "She's the first I've seen."

"Well, I'm not an authority. But I've played with them all my life. I'd say half that at least."

"But then she can't even be adequately weaned!" Lemailtie was appalled.

"Probably not," Roban agreed. "What food supply did she have?"

"Standard water tube and dry pellets."

"Any evidence she'd been eating?"

"No ... ," Lemailtie said slowly. "I just assumed they'd been recently refilled."

Roban started to examine Atikujla more carefully. "Does she look sick to you?"

Enough nonsense, Maras decided. They could sort stuff out later. He said loudly, "You saying baby there is hungry and needs her mama?"

"I think so, but –"

"Larr, go get some milk from the cater unit and warm it. You know how?"

"Of course." With a stranger present it was not the time to remind Maras he had an illegitimate son he'd cared for on his leaves since the boy's birth.

"Good." Maras picked up Cornsilk. "Cornsilk's nice and gentle. Maybe she'll quiet Atikujla down." He put Cornsilk carefully beside Roban, not on his lap. The two dogs stared at each other, then Cornsilk reached up and licked Atikujla.

"Good girl," Maras said with approval to Cornsilk as Larr came back with the milk.

"Wait! Is the breed lactose intolerant?" Lemailtie asked.

"No, that is bred out of them," Roban said.

"She won't know how to drink it," the pet shop owner said, "and I never thought I'd need bottles. I'll see what they can improvise on station." He moved to the comm unit.

Larr went to give Roban the bowl, but Maras intervened, taking it and wrist testing the temperature. Satisfied, he passed it to Roban.

"I told you I'm competent," Larr protested.

Maras ignored him. "Will she drink it?"

Atikujla was smelling the liquid, but she made no attempt to drink it. Cornsilk knew what it was though, and started to climb onto Roban's lap.

"Let her have some. Maybe the baby will copy her."

Atikujla watched. That was all.

Roban wet a finger in the milk and held it to the little muzzle. It closed and stayed firmly shut. He removed his finger. A little tongue came out for a cautious lick. Then Atikujla twisted around to look at Roban.

"That's right little one. Dinner." He wet his finger again, and she sucked it, protesting when he removed it to get it wet again.

"That's too slow," Larr said. "We need a plastic bag. We could cut a hole in the corner."

"Well, I don't have one. Besides, the bag could smother her," Maras said, looking at the pet store owner who was still talking to someone. "Get a clean washcloth."

"Why?" Larr wanted to know, but he headed for the bathroom.

"I'll show you a trick for if you ever have kids and no bottle handy." Maras took the cloth and twisted it to be a narrow cylinder. He then saturated the corner point in milk, then gave it to the pup to suck. As she sucked he gently squeezed milk down towards her. "Holds a fair bit," he said, repeating the process. "My kid sister were just little and got sick in the night. Ma had got rid of her bottles and soother about a month before. But she were crying and wouldn't drink, so I did this while Ma went and got stuff."

Atikujla was getting used to the pattern and relaxing as she got a little bit of food in her tummy.

Lemailtie stepped away from the comm unit. "Amazing what the super concierge can come up with. Apparently Atikujla isn't the first small animal they've had to feed. A show dog in transit even had pups here last month she says. The dog took it all just fine, but apparently the owner stressed out so badly the station midwife decided to come and supervise."

He looked at the pup who was half asleep, more playing with the toweling than sucking. "If she hasn't eaten, that's probably all she should have now. We'll let her sleep, and then get a better feeding in her with a bottle and the proper formula. Then I'll take her planetside to a vet."

"You can't put her in a box again!" It was a horrified whisper because Maras didn't want to wake Atikujla.

"They won't let her travel on the shuttle outside the special carriers."

"You can't box her up. Leave her here. I'll take care of her."

"No offense sir, but you don't know how."

Maras looked at the sleeping pup. "I done fine so far. An' give me the name of that vet and I'll bring the vet up to check Atikujla out right here on the station. Got to check her like you say, baby might have caught somethin' between starving and travel." Maras's first thought had been Doc, but Doc probably weren't great with doggies. "But I'll do fine. I mostly raised up three brothers and a sister and they turned out big and healthy. One brother's big as me, in fact."

Larr said, "You mentioned him once before. You sure he couldn't play Octagla?"

Maras shook his head. "No reflexes. The only one with moves is the runt. He's only your size."

"Definitely a runt," Larr agreed with a grin. He was a large, well muscled man, large enough to play defense in a pinch. "What about him. Does he play?"

"Might. It's too early to say." More likely spend his life in a box, the kind with bars. Maras changed the subject back to Atikujla. "I'll keep baby. She and Cornsilk can be sisters."

"Maras," Roban intervened as he was stroking little creature, "she has to be house trained."

"You send me instructions," Maras said to Lemailtie then turned to Roban. "Can't be worse than a brother who peed the bed and I had to sleep with him." He looked expectantly at Lemailtie. "You carry diapers her size for when I got to play and can't keep an eye on her?"

***

As it turned out, it was Roban who kept Atikujla. He said they both spoke the same language and he missed having someone from home to talk to. She was doing much better for a nap on his lap, a tiny bottle, a nap on his lap, a tiny bottle, a nap on a pillow with Cornsilk because Roban said he simply had to move around, another small feeding, and sharing a shower with him. By the time she was blow dried, a process she seemed to like after Roban did his own hair first to show her it didn't hurt, she looked a lot more like the dogs in the holograms.

Half awake now, Atikujla watched everyone else in her new pack have supper from a vantage point on that same pillow and decided she liked her new pack just fine. The male that was feeding her was kind and gentle and had a soft voice. It seemed rather peculiar that a male was feeding her, but it was nice peculiar, unlike some of the other things that happened recently. Besides, each of her new friends seemed to have a male feeding them. She really liked Cornsilk. She was very good to sleep with. Jellybean was probably going to be fun to play with when she got a little more energy, but right now, Atikujla admitted to herself, she was rather tired and might just have another nap. First though, she took one last look at the table. Cornsilk's male was obviously the dominant male in the pack. Atikujla was no longer terrified of him. He was very, very big, and loud, and a color she had never seen before, but he was kind. She couldn't imagine why she had been terrified of him.

As Atikujla watched, Maras carefully cut a tiny sliver of pork with nice rich fat at one end and offered it to Cornsilk who was on the floor lapping at some milk. She sniffed, then chewed.

"Good, huh?" Maras asked. Cornsilk were so cute. Cailla would just adore her. He hadn't said a thing about getting a dog 'cause he wanted to surprise her.

In response and agreement Cornsilk licked the hand he dropped down to stroke her head with. Maras cut a slightly larger piece to feed her. Cornsilk gobbled it up.

This was obviously good food. Atikujla looked hopefully at her male, but he was busy feeding himself. Oh well. She yawned. Maybe another time. She wasn't hungry anyways. She had been very, very hungry. Cornsilk had explained those funny smelling hard things were food. But how had she been supposed to know something like that? She'd just ignored them.

"Maras, are you going to feed Cornsilk from the table?" Larr demanded.

"Yep," Maras said, ending the immediate need for further conversation by stuffing his own mouth full of pork and potatoes.

That male was the only one Atikujla wasn't sure of. It sounded like Jellybean wasn't going to get any of whatever the nice stuff was. Oh well, Jellybean said she liked him. Atikujla fell asleep.

*****

Chapter 20

6 to 0 for the Suns.

Isley looked at the clock while Bourara set up the face-off. At eleven minutes into the third period it looked like Menzaille was going to get the first playoff shutout in league history. It wasn't for lack of trying by his team. They had fifteen more shots on goal than the Suns had, and none of those had been wasted shots. It wasn't that Mikey had folded. He hadn't let in a single soft shot. It was just one of those nights when Menzaille was... Menzaille. He would give a lot to know what was in that man's head tonight! Every coach and goalie in the galaxy would give a lot.

Red took the face-off and passed to Mercan, who started to work back into the Suns' end with Ertwaine perhaps four meters ahead of him blocking the way. Red watched the indecision in Ertwaine's eyes, then Ertwaine committed to Mercan. At the same time Rundell made his move, jetting past Valskoa, elbows up.

So, Menzaille thought, they're setting up their classic right-wing press. Forcing Kip to decide which of the three to cover. He gave a fleeting glance to the left, but Parnilsak and Pelfran had Larr and Tedia under control. Strange Larr hadn't gone up on the roof. Obviously it was planned for some time with Rall here. He'd been experimenting with how to handle a shot from the roof. The least disorienting thing to do was just flip himself and balance on the goal crossbar. That took a bit of practice, Menzaille admitted, but he was kind of getting the hang of it.

Menzaille contemplated the fact he'd never seen a goalie try that on Rall as Rundell adjusted his trajectory. Menzaille knew he was in split brain function, but that was fine as long as he didn't stray too far off Octagla, and focused when Mercan made his move.

Like now! Menzaille refocused as Mercan passed to Rundell. Red put on full jets, so Red would take the actual shot, and Kip was out of position. Menzaille's eyes narrowed. Yes. Rundell back-passed to Red at center. Menzaille watched the interminably long flight of the ball. The netting, Red's shot. Instinct took over, natural timing. He was that ball coming at him that should be too fast to see and seemed to take forever. He got it center stick upper right and passed the ball full strength to Anhiorl who was hanging back. Dead on.

***

Oh no! They wasn't doing that again. Maras clenched his hands on his stick. All of a sudden Parnilsak and Pelfran wasn't interested in Larr or Tedia moving into their end at all. They was heading back here full jets, and by the looks of it Parnilsak were gonna get his bell rung by Larr, not Tedia, if Larr could manage... Parnilsak were a pain tonight.

Anhiorl passed off to Pelfran, and it were Parnilsak who got Larr with an elbow to his windpipe, not Larr got Parnilsak. S.O.B! Then Maras focused. Mikey done pretty good stopping Anhiorl tonight, but Parnilsak had three of the goals. He'd take care of him but good. It weren't Pelfran who were going to shoot. He were too far off to the side – bad angle.

Parnilsak may have read Maras's deadly intent, because he took the shot the moment he got the pass, a hard shot from about four meters out.

Maras managed to save Mikey some work. He blocked the shot with his arm, the ball hitting his elbow. Through pain clouded eyes he watched as Anhiorl got the rebound and made a shot lower left.

Mikey got the ball and smothered it. Then he and Big Luis got to Maras at the same time.

"You okay?" Mikey demanded. The defensemen wore less padding than a goalie and that had been a high force shot.

Maras was too busy swearing to reply, but he did look up to glare at Parnilsak.

"Have Doc neuroblock it." Big Luis gave Maras a shove towards the bench. "There isn't much time left in the period."

***

Coach Scimkla looked down the dressing room to where Menzaille sat in total silence, staring at Ertwaine's head across from him and obviously not seeing it. Occasionally he took a drink, but not as much as he should to rehydrate or keep his electrolytes balanced. Coach Scimkla had no intention of saying anything, and Doc wouldn't either. Two years ago between the third and fourth periods when Menzaille hadn't so much as taken a swallow Doc had asked him to try and get some liquid down. The opposing team had come on strong in the last period and scored two goals. Menzaille had accused Doc of breaking his concentration and costing him a shutout. Then he'd sulked and been lousy for the next five games. Now they left him alone. So did the team.

***

There was bitter frustration on every face as Isley scanned the room. Larr met his eyes.

"Want me to go up on the roof alone and see if I can break his concentration?" They had agreed in the private practices with Rall that Larr and Tedia would stay off the roof until Rall said they were ready.

Isley shook his head. "They're expecting that. When Pelfran gives you a break, Parnilsak is there ready to move in on you before you can do anything. Play your normal game. And keep it clean – all of you! We don't need more penalties."

Isley watched team captain Maras frown at that. "Maras, Scimkla will be counting on us doing something dumb. We touch one of his guys, that guy is gonna cry like he's busted bad. After the brawl we were in, Bourara isn't gonna wait for a Doc. We'll take twenty, maybe the next game. We gotta be smart." He was keeping to a Terran dialect Maras could follow

Isley watched for any sign of understanding on the team captain's face. "You got it straight?" he finally asked.

"Got it. Don't like it." Maras shrugged then winced at the motion. He'd like to get Parnilsak but good.

"Remember, Menzaille is always crap the game after a shutout. We'll get ahead in the series next game. Now, how's that elbow?" Isley turned and raised his voice. "Doc, you got scans yet?" That was a league tradition. The doctor that traveled with each team was called Doc.

"Hairline fracture. No bone chip."

Maras beamed and relaxed. Then it would bend. Hurt like hell, but bend and no surgery. So he could keep playing. Couldn't keep playing, no MVP.

***

This last period was taking an eternity, Menzaille decided. Tamara was hot, pressing the play and taking two shots for each one his team took. And if Valskoa accidentally screened him one more time being greedy and trying for the ball he was flattening him. Menzaille didn't care if Valskoa was the best player on the team. He was dead meat.

That burst of anger helped. Menzaille tried to maintain his focus as Rundell pressed the play into the Pendrae Suns' end. Again. Why didn't Rundell pass off to Larr for a change? For that matter, why were they playing Rundell so much with that bum wrist? Greg or Marco would be variety. He needed variety. He needed it stay alert. Maybe Larr would try for the roof if Pelfran gave him some space. That would be a change – bounce up to the crossbar and watch Larr's face. Or pass to that kid. He'd stop that damned kid this time. Two minutes left. He'd spent all night trying to find recordings of that kid playing – and they were all of him playing lousy that one make up game against Pendrae United.

Less than two minutes. If he stayed focused he could do it. Menzaille knew he could. Come on... give me a break in routine... wake me up.

All right. Larr was past Pelfran and the kid just butt-ended Parnilsak. No call. Was Bourara for Tamara all of a sudden? Rundell was setting up to pass to Larr... What?? Larr is staying low. That snapped Menzaille out of drifting. He and Larr were old opponents. He watched as Larr came in, looking for that new twist move he used for a shot last game. He used it. And... Hell! Menzaille really had to stretch for that one. He just barely got a piece with the tip of his stick and the ball went wild.

Red got it and shot. This one was easier to get. Menzaille caught it in his stick's pocket and rather than smother it, with all the strength he had left threw it at the far end of the court, aiming for Big Luis's head for lack of a better target. He could feel the sweat pooling on his face like it did in zero gravity, and his throw hadn't bought enough time to wipe his eyes. He blinked repeatedly to ease the blurring. Vision still blurred, Menzaille watched Big Luis net the ball then pass to Mercan mid-court.

"Kip! Keep them out of here and I'll babysit for a week after the season!" Their nanny had quit on zero notice, and it always seemed to take Kip's wife forever to choose the next one. So Kip had been complaining that the postseason getaway he and his wife had planned was off.

"Yo!" Kip didn't take his eyes off the play.

"Champagne. Tonight, breaking curfew," Warkiza made his request, equally intent on the play.

Menzaille would have smiled, but that took energy. If he got the shut out, he'd keep Warkiza company. They were friends. He blinked again, again. Damn! The sweat burned and now he was tearing too.

The two defensemen moved forward for a little of what Big Luis called proactive play. Menzaille watched as Ertwaine effectively herded Mercan towards Kip. Then as Mercan was about to pass off, Ertwaine stick checked.

With agility uncommon in a defenseman, Kip got it and fired the ball at Big Luis again, but tried to miss so Big Luis would have some chasing to do and kill time.

"We playing catch?" Big Luis bellowed as he caught the ball on a bounce off the wall, then passed to Larr this time.

Forty two seconds. Come on Larr. Try the roof. Come on!

It was the kid who took the shot on a snap pass Menzaille thought Larr couldn't make. This time it was an easier save. Menzaille couldn't hold the ball though. Larr and Warkiza got to the ball at the same time. Larr netted it, but couldn't do anything with the huge defenseman roughing him up.

The buzzer sounded. They'd won! 9 – 0. He had a playoff shutout! Menzaille shut his eyes with a huge, trembling sigh.

*****

Chapter 21

There was a stunned silence in Joran's media room while they watched the Pendrae Suns mob Menzaille. The crowd was on its feet screaming.

Trevarr broke the silence. "That was incredible! I know I'm rooting for Tamara, but that was incredible!"

"He just put his jersey in the Galactic Hall of Fame again," Torin agreed.

"I want him," Joran thought aloud, his handsome black face awed. He ran a hand through his shoulder length curls.

Everyone turned to stare.

"For what?" Mai asked, twisting so she could see Joran's face beyond her husband Rori. That was the major problem with being so tiny. People blocked your view.

"For goal for Gingezel. Earlier today I talked to the league commissioner. Gingezel can get an expansion franchise if it is privately owned, not by the consortium since Marti would have a conflict of interest then. Bruce too as long as Mercan plays. So I said yes." He grinned. "I always wanted to own an Octagla team."

"You're serious?" Trevarr asked. He knew by now Joran had a lot of ideas. Some panned out, some ...

"MmmHmm. Torin, what's Menzaille worth?"

"Tonight you couldn't buy him. Wait until Scimkla has to pull him three nights in a row and he blows the series for them." Torin gave an estimate of what he'd be worth then, his face impassive.

"That's too high," his sister objected.

"Isn't!" Torin said. "He'd be a pain to coach, but he draws. And like I said, he's double Hall of Fame material. He's just hot or cold, that's all, and Scimkla has the wrong backup. He's using Broygum because he'll put up with Menzaille, but he isn't up to first string for three nights in a row."

Joran said, "I can relate to a guy like Menzaille. I want him."

He was like that on stage. Hot or cold. No middle. It took Bojo handling him to stay the galaxy's pop superstar. He listened to everyone laugh good-naturedly at his reference to his tendency to succeed then fall on his ass as he stared at the mob scene on the holovision not seeing it. He was thinking seriously about how Torin had handled his question about what Menzaille was worth.

"Torin, none of my business, but why didn't you go into coaching? You know all there is to know. You've got the personality. You analyze the game."

Torin shrugged, his face impassive. "No offers. Who was going to risk a franchise on someone almost as unstable as Daron is. And by the time I recovered I was old news."

"Want to give it a shot?" Joran asked.

Torin's dark eyes grew serious. "I'd really have to think about that if you're serious. And ask a lot of questions like who I'd work with. No offense Joran – you see I worked too damned hard to recover this far."

Joran nodded. He could relate to that too. His drug addiction had been hard to break, harder to recover from. "Take all the time you need. The offer is serious and stays open until training for the team has to start." He looked off into space. "As for who you'd work with... Trevarr, do you think Daron could be assistant coach even if he can never travel and has to holoconference? He was great for the celebrity game."

They had all figured Daron would be here watching the game too. Trevarr was trying to get him confident outside the clinic, but he'd had a bad day and asked to be sedated.

"Joran, that's a medical opinion I can't give without a million release forms." Trevarr's handsome blond face was stern. You had to set limits with Joran when he got wound up.

"So you don't think so..." Joran pulled his lip.

"I didn't say yes or no," Trevarr protested.

"I think he deserves to be asked," Knett said quietly, "and I don't think my saying so is any more unprofessional than saying you should all ask if he could handle the Celebrity Game, not decide for him. He handled that."

Joran looked from Knett to Trevarr.

"Fair enough," Trevarr said. "He's mentally competent to make choices. And in about ten days it's time to get him out of the clinic at nights. That will tell a lot."

"He can have a suite here on my floor," Joran said. "And if you're worried he'll get overstimulated, Knett can move in too." Joran knew Knett hadn't found a permanent residence yet and was in a transient worker condo.

Knett took a look at the luxury around him and his massive shoulders rose. "You're kidding?!"

"Dead serious. I'll be a hazard to Daron at night. I have insomnia and I get dumb ideas then and try to fly them."

"And I'm the guardian spoilsport?" Knett asked.

"You got it."

There were three who hadn't said a word. Rori, Mai's husband, Wayd, Trevarr's spouse, and Chan. Now Joran turned to Chan.

"What about you? If Isley's sane he'll make you first string, but Marti's crowded with talent. If he doesn't, will you negotiate first string with me? I won't swear the salary would match Menzaille, but it will be good. Think in the neighborhood of Jaik's."

Chan stared. He felt like shit, and he'd done all of that damage to his body for Tamara, not a team that didn't even exist yet. Still... first string... near Jaik's salary, top of the league. Indecision played on his strong boned face.

"Can we see how things play out with Isley?" he said cautiously.

Joran nodded. It was the answer he had wanted. Chan was a loyal man, driven by more than money.

"Take your time. The offer stays open until we have to settle the team."

***

"How are they?" Maras asked the portel babysitter turned pup sitter.

"Just fine," the chubby young man assured them. "Only your pup sir," he turned to Roban, "she was whining in her sleep like she had bad dreams. So I put her on my lap and patted her while she slept. I hope you don't mind."

"Thanks. They shipped her too young, and if pups dream, I can believe hers are bad." He stooped to pick up Atikujla. "How are you, little one?"

She licked his face.

Larr looked at Jellybean. "Heel Jellybean." She came, stopping to get an ear scratched before heeling.

The young man took two steps towards the door. "Well then..." He couldn't think of a thing to say to these three Octagla stars after the shutout.

Larr rescued him. "It's all right to be a homer – you just saw history made." He smiled a rather strained smile. "I just wish it had been another team, not us. Now, you can go."

Nodding, the man left.

"Maras, you okay?" Roban asked as he continued tickling Atikujla.

Maras gave his elbow and experimental flex. "Neuroblock still got it numb. Clear out. I'll call Cailla 'fore it really gets going."

Roban and Larr nodded and left.

But Maras stalled. What was he going to say to Cailla after that! Letting Menzaille have a shutout. Maras realized he hadn't taken a single shot on goal, but as team captain he felt obscurely responsible for the night's performance.

He stooped and picked up Cornsilk who was sound asleep in her basket. She hadn't twitched despite all the noise. Now though she opened a sleepy eye and licked the nearest finger. Maras sat down, running the fingers of his uninjured arm through her fur.

"Cornsilk, we done got stomped."

She nuzzled his palm.

He kept petting, petting.

***

The call from Cailla came half an hour later. Reluctantly Maras closed the contact.

"Maras, how are you? I've been so worried about your elbow."

Now that were nice. She looked worried too. Tired though. Maras studied her. Cailla were still dressed up like for the Meet The Author thing, in a pretty rose color sweater and a jacket. And her hair were up in a roll. But she looked pooped, like the coach had her up for an extra 6 AM practice. He could get that – lines of people just wanting to pester you and you got to smile and say something nice. Would be worse than an autograph session. Then you could quit when you wanted. Coach got pissed, but big deal. Seemed like publishers had more clout than coaches.

"Only a hairline fracture. I can keep playing."

Cailla nodded, both understanding and relieved. "It's going to hurt every time you bend it though. Wish I could come take care of you."

Now that were even nicer. Maras let himself imagine being administered to by Cailla. "It's okay. Cornsilk is takin' good care of me." He gave her a pet.

Cornsilk? Cailla tried to remember if she'd ever heard a woman being named Cornsilk. For sure it wouldn't be a man. She felt deflated. Mai had said Maras wasn't like that.

"And who is Cornsilk?"

The icy tone went past Maras. He'd been just waiting to tell Cailla, and now was the right time.

"A Cocker's paniel. I got to get her a better name! Cornsilk's dumb!"

"A paniel?" Cailla blinked. What was Maras doing with a dog?

"Yup," Maras said proudly. "Want to see her?"

Mutely Cailla nodded and was shown a fat, sleepy pup.

*****

Chapter 22

Maras looked at the plate just placed in front of him with satisfaction. Larr and Roban had wanted to argue about where to have lunch, but he'd just said he were hungry. Real hungry. That had settled it. There were only one place on the Pendrae space station that got how him and Big Luis needed to eat when they was hungry. He took a fork, hesitated, then speared a chunk of meat. He chewed. Savory, juicy, perfect. Pretty soon the pups would be big enough they could come too and not need a sitter. Tedia were pup sitting. He said that were okay.

Roban and Larr exchanged amused looks and started on their own meals.

Roban was the one with the view of the doorway. Ever since his run-in with Cobyn Gadd he'd been more comfortable sitting with his back to the wall. Putting down his fork he said, "Trouble. Don't look."

"Creep?" Maras asked with his mouth full. He weren't saying that man's name.

"No –"

"Roban, darling!" Zloenni's voice carried across the room. "I saw you inside and I just had to come and ask how Superstud and Ranga are. There's so little in the news."

"What now?" Larr asked.

"Avoid a scene, just like she's counting on," Roban said and picked up his fork, resuming his meal. So, she used social conventions to manipulate people. And that was a cute trick asking about Superstud across the room like that. Now he couldn't say much. Everyone would be eavesdropping.

Larr looked a moment longer at Roban, then followed his lead and resumed his meal.

Maras turned enough to give her a glare, then slowly put a large forkful in his mouth. Roban were smart. Can't talk with your mouth full. And were rude too. After a while she'd go away.

"And how is Superstud?" Zloenni purred as she reached the table, aware that every eye in the room was on her. She straightened a lock of red hair on her shoulder and smiled down at Roban.

"Slowly recovering. He's a fighter." Roban pushed a piece of noodle across his plate. No thanks to you, bitch.

"And Ranga?" She needed to know. He might still be her best ally if Roban couldn't be swung around. Yes, Ghen had reminded her of what would happen to anyone who hurt his son. But she didn't intend to hurt him... just use him.

"Living with Ghen for the foreseeable future." Roban replied. Did he see a flicker of alarm there? It was hard to say. If so, good!

That was something that would definitely not have made the press, and Zloenni wondered if Roban was telling her deliberately. "Thank you, Roban. Perhaps after your meal I could have a longer word with you?" She left it there delicately, allowing eavesdroppers to think she wanted, warranted, more information on either Daron or Ranga.

Roban looked straight at her. "Zloenni, you and I have nothing to discuss." Maybe a public confrontation was best. "I will not be involved in the drug trade – with you or Ghen." He saw her flinch at that, before the shock was quickly hidden. He noticed that people at the nearby table were suddenly fascinated with their plates.

Roban continued, making no effort to lower his voice. "Why you got the wrong idea because I acted as bouncer once at one of Anton's parties, I don't know. You can choose to believe me or not, but it was strictly a favor to a close friend – Mrail. I'm an Octagla player, and when that career ends, I'm going to be a farmer."

For a moment Roban was diverted from Zloenni. Why had he said that? He always claimed he hated a farming life. But right now marrying sweet gentle Juliemnal and just settling down and having kids was so appealing... maybe teach the odd course at the university in the winter ...

Zloenni saw the longing in his face when he mentioned farming, and in spite of herself believed him. What a total waste of talent, but it was what he wanted and he was obviously a man who went after what he wanted. She inclined her head in a mixture of acceptance and defeat. Then her catlike face hardened.

"There is one thing – I believe you have something that isn't yours."

"Not anymore." Roban shrugged indifference.

Zloenni quirked an eyebrow.

Okay. She asked for this. "I didn't know what to do. So I called Ralin." Zloenni would know who he was. Eavesdroppers wouldn't. "He said it would make an interesting addition to his collection." Roban shrugged. "So I followed instructions and sent it."

It was Larr who caught the hand that lashed out, almost before it moved. His grip was steel as he bent Zloenni's wrist.

"Public manners," he chided.

Zloenni turned to glare at him, then suddenly burst out laughing. Galaxy, Cobyn would be livid. Her laughter deepened, a completely natural infectious laugh that she couldn't stop. It must have been a full minute later that, clutching her aching side, she said, "Thank you, Roban. I haven't laughed like that for years."

*****

Chapter 23

"Are you telling me that thing is a dog?" There was more contempt than amusement in Red's voice.

Maras, Roban, and Larr had decided they might as well let the coach and the team know they were all now dog owners. Isley would probably appreciate that, Maras had said, not their just showing with their doggies at the door to the team spaceship after the game. Roban and Larr had agreed, appalled because if he'd mentioned only showing up with the dogs at the last minute it was probably exactly what Maras had been thinking of, and probably would have done if there was only one dog.

Roban contented himself with a neutral, "That's right." He sincerely hoped Red was replaced before he was back on the court.

"Funny looking," Red observed, and poked a finger at the bristly fur.

Atikujla was too fast for him. She bit that finger as hard as she could with her baby teeth and still weak jaws. A Speix terrier had razor sharp teeth from two weeks after birth. She didn't draw blood, but she left scratched skin and a good welt where the teeth dragged as he swore and snatched his finger away. Growling, Atikujla moved several centimeters to make sure she was sitting right in the middle of her male's possessions. This bad man wasn't touching a thing.

"What the hell!" Red was furious. "That little –"

He didn't finish the sentence. Larr spun him around, and holding him firmly by the arm was propelling the him across the room.

"Atikujla teaching you manners, Red?" he asked cheerfully, keeping a grip on the smaller man.

"The damn thing bit me!"

"You asked for that, not getting introduced first, just poking at her." Larr made sure the dressing room full of onlookers all heard him. "They're all good dogs."

"Hell of an idea of a good dog, Larr. Damn it! Let go Larr." Red tried unsuccessfully to pull himself free. "That thing of yours bite too?" He looked down to where Jellybean was growling at his heels.

"Only if I tell her to. She's trained. Sit Jellybean!"

Jellybean sat, but kept growling.

They were now in front of Maras. He'd got as far as shorts, and was just sitting there playing with Cornsilk.

Larr dropped his voice. "Understand me Red. If you're mean to the dogs, Atikujla in particular – you so much as raise your voice to her – and either I, or Maras, whichever is around will thump you out better than Maras did Daron that one time."

"Let go!" Red flexed his arm.

"You listening?" Larr tightened his grip.

Red wasn't taking that crap from him. "If you remember, Maras was the one who needed stitches."

"I weren't much trying," Maras said. "If I had been, he'd been in the hospital then, not now." He complacently stroked Cornsilk. "You be nice to Roban's doggie. People have been bad to her already."

Red just looked confused.

Larr said, "She got shipped un-weaned, arrived half starved, and by the way she acts, she may be an abused animal."

To give Red credit he looked truly shocked. "You think I'm some kind of monster, Larr? I didn't know. I just thought she was funny looking and wanted to touch that hair."

"No funnier than yours Red," Maras said, then chuckled at his own wit.

***

"Are you letting them turn this place into a zoo?" Red demanded of Coach Isley. He had gone over to Roban to apologize, and as Larr put it, get properly introduced to the dog. He hadn't meant to scare it. It hadn't worked though. The little thing had got so nervous Roban had hastily picked it up and put it on its litter box. That made Red nervous, aware of Maras's eyes on the back of his neck. It would be just like Maras to misunderstand and decide he'd done something wrong. Now he was simply trying to have the situation back to normal.

Coach Isley did not answer that immediately. He looked at Roban, who was bent over petting Atikujla and talking to her earnestly. At least her peeing all over wasn't a problem. The pups all had diapers – a good idea in almost zero g. Presumably Roban had just put Atikujla on her litter box as training. He had already heard from the portel management about Maras's couch, so the dogs had come as less of a surprise than Larr and Roban had worried they might.

He looked to where Maras was stoically fitting his elbow guard over the purple and green mess that his black skin couldn't totally hide. The guard had prevented an elbow bone chip from the shot he decided to save Mikey from having to stop last game, but that was about all. The process complete, Maras looked down to where he placed Cornsilk on the floor so he could finish dressing. With one of the few perfectly happy smiles Isley had ever seen on Maras's face, he reached a barefoot out to tickle her tummy.

He looked to where Larr appeared to be doing a formal introduction between Jellybean and Big Luis. The hand sniffing and the head petting apparently concluded to everyone's satisfaction, Big Luis spoke in a rumble that carried across the room.

"You getting dressed Larr, or taking the night off? How about I hold her while you catch up?" Big Luis was dressed. He held out his hands.

Larr handed over Jellybean. She was well enough trained she would have sat at his feet while he dressed, but she needed to get to know the team.

Big Luis held Jellybean up at face height for a nose to nose inspection, then laughed and dodged as she tried to lick him.

Coach Isley thought about quiet, introspective Roban talking freely to that little red dog. Benched for the season or not, Roban was still one of the best Octagla players in the galaxy. He thought about Maras who, now that Roban was out of contention, had a chance to get that MVP award he so coveted. That award didn't go to a defenseman once in ten seasons.

"Silky," Maras announced to the room in general as he positioned his chest protector.

"Silky what?" Big Luis shouted back from the other end of the room.

"We's gonna call her Silky." Cornsilk were a real stupid name. Everyone knew corn were something you ate, and silk was something you wore. You could, he supposed, dye silk the color of corn. In fact that might make a nice shirt now that he thought about it. But Cornsilk weren't yellow, she was toffee colored. He liked corn, and had seriously tried to come up with nice names with corn in them, but hadn't. So Silky it was gonna be. He couldn't have her and everybody getting used to the wrong name.

"That's nice," Big Luis agreed. He might have said more, but he'd made the mistake of moving too close to Jellybean and got a big sloppy lick on his nose. He laughed. He liked dogs.

Coach Isley thought of Larr, who had always been a good enough journeymen, but who had made having a father in the Hall of Fame a barrier to succeeding, not an inspiration. He thought of shy little Tedia with that mane of straggly hair falling into his frightened young animal eyes and his lopsided grin. Little Tedia who hadn't understood a word he said because he didn't understand ComLan that wasn't almost Latino, and who looked lousy on the court because he was used to playing the roof and was afraid to say so. Little Tedia who damn near got sent back down to the planetary levels. He and Larr were playing the roof now, not a perfect team yet, but better every practice. Improvement would continue too with Rall's help. Four or five years from now, would their jerseys be flanking Rall's in the Hall of Fame? It wasn't impossible.

Right now they were both laughing because Luis was clowning with the pup. He had it just out of reach and was pretending he was going to lick it back. Jellybean loved it. She was wiggling and stretching and yipping.

Coach Isley watched Big Luis, who would never be a contender for MVP like Maras was, but who was the most reliable defenseman in the league. His judgment was good, he was smart, and it seemed impossible for the opposition to make him lose his focus or his temper. He'd bet by next season the team had four dogs, maybe five.

Coach Isley turned back to Red who would never be half the player Daron had been and who would be traded as soon as he could find a replacement. "Looks like it. Does that finger need disinfecting?"

*****

Chapter 24

Coach Scimkla watched Menzaille putting on his pads. The man was moving slowly, deliberately like a simple flex was an effort. He had been like that in the light practice too – an automaton. Scimkla couldn't fault him. That shutout had been a real effort with all the shots Tamara had taken. He'd given Warkiza and Kip a talking to about that, but to be fair they'd played a good game. Tamara had just been really hungry.

"Menzaille ..." Scimkla waited as there was a noticeable pause, like Menzaille had to think about what to do about hearing his name. Finally wary, disoriented eyes met his.

"I'm starting Broygum." And my bet is finishing with him too. Scimkla waited for the prima donna temper that didn't come. The strain really had Menzaille flat. Menzaille and Warkiza hadn't celebrated that hard. He'd given them time to work through about half a bottle of champagne, then stuck his head in with congratulations and broke it up.

***

Mikey was staring at the Suns' bench with an uncharacteristically broody expression on his face. How had Menzaille done that? He'd re-watched the shutout twice now, goal by goal on his part and save by save on Menzaille's and was no wiser. One thing was for sure, Menzaille had just raised the bar. Now to have a good reputation as a goalie you'd have to be capable of a shutout, and to be great, one in the playoffs.

Mikey knew perfectly well he'd never come close. He tried to live up to the classic advice from Tarell. Make the hard ones look easy, and the easy ones look hard. That made sense. Making the hard ones look easy demoralized the other team. And putting on a bit of a show so the easy ones looked hard kept the crowd on your side. What else was there?

"Don't even think about it," Big Luis advised from beside him.

Mikey started, and flushed.

"Isley needs you to be steady for the rest of the playoffs. I'll bet Scimkla has to start Broygum."

Even as they spoke Broygum came out of the bench and headed for the goal to position himself.

Mikey sighed. "I'd still like to know how he does it."

"Same way you do – one shot at a time." Big Luis grinned. "And he got a little help there. He's babysitting for Kip for a week." Big Luis's grin broadened. "Now, I'm like Warkiza. I can be bought with the best champagne. But be careful with Maras. He's likely to have you dog sitting for the rest of your career."

That got Big Luis Mikey's usual sloppy smile. That was better.

***

Take it one shot at a time. Mikey knew from re-watching the game that he had not been judging Parnilsak's shots well. Parnilsak's style had changed a bit – maybe he was finally recovered from that shoulder pull. Now the Suns were setting up a press, the kind he hadn't handled well last game. But this time it was going to be different.

Despite looking like all he did was flop around, Mikey was capable of focus. Ertwaine was moving in fast, carrying the play forward. But Mikey knew the quiet brunette was just setting someone up, either Valskoa or Parnilsak. It wasn't that Ertwaine wasn't fine, but he was like Larr, one of the team's journeymen brought up to first string midseason because of an injury. The Suns needed that first goal, so they'd give the play to either Valskoa, their top scorer, or Parnilsak since he'd had trouble with him last game. Mikey was betting on Parnilsak because he'd robbed Valskoa a couple times.

Maybe he was wrong! Valskoa suddenly jetted forward. But Big Luis was there in proactive mode. Mikey saw the indecision on Ertwaine's face, and he passed to Anhiorl. Okay Red, take care of him. Okay Red, screwup! Mikey watched as the more limber Anhiorl got past Red.

Maras was committed to the right-wingers, so Anhiorl was his problem. Mikey let his mind flow out while his arms flopped around on their own accord like they always did. Come on Anhiorl, there's no screening. Do that twist you do and take your shot.

Yes! Mikey got a piece of it, tried to settle it in his stick, but all of a sudden Parnilsak was in the crease and stick checked. The ball went loose and Parnilsak netted it. He took the shot from just meters away. And Mikey was there almost before the shot was made. This time he smothered the ball, getting a vicious glare from Parnilsak who looked inclined to move into the crease and loosen it. But Maras started to rough him up a bit as the whistle finally sounded. Take it one at a time. He'd stopped Anhiorl, then Parnilsak.

Red was screwing up. Isley leaned towards Gengo. "You're in." They needed to get the first goal. Red could score on Broygum, but he'd almost cost them one. And so far Gengo wasn't refusing the first string work.

Red glared at Gengo as they jetted past each other. Sure you're not after my position!

But Gengo didn't even notice. His whole focus was the coming face-off, a first string face-off. I am Gengo. I am here. I am calm. I am one with the ball. The ball is me. He repeated his focus thoughts almost automatically. Taking the face-off was easy. There was no time to waste, they had to take the lead. He passed to Rundell.

Rundell headed for the wall at an angle that would take him almost to the floor, drawing Valskoa with him. That's right, create an opening. Go on, use it Mercan! Get Kip out of position for either me or Gengo.

Mercan knew the play. He tried to distract and draw Kip, but Kip wasn't budging. He was staying put, leaving Mercan to Ertwaine. Kip, move!

"Pass off," Roban murmured. "Change to play twelve." The planned play just wasn't working.

Still holding the ball, Rundell changed trajectory slightly, veering onto the wall. He had one of the best floor bounce passes in the league. He wouldn't try making it to Tedia, but he and Larr were used to each other. There was no time to talk, but for a fleeting moment their eyes met...

Larr jetted in and down at maximum velocity, startling both Pelfran and Warkiza who were prepared for him to go to the roof. He netted the ball flying sideways to the floor at what would have been waist height if he were standing. He took one of those low bounce shots that were hard to judge.

Broygum misjudged it. He was moving left like he should, but the bounce went in two cm above his stick.

Tamara had the first goal.

***

"Well done!" Isley congratulated Larr and Rundell. "Now we rest your wrist for a while Rundell. Greg, time for a first string shift. See if you can slow Valskoa down without landing in the penalty box."

Isley caught Marco's eyes with an unspoken question. Marco might be offended he wasn't the one getting the time. Isley got a grin though.

"My amigo specializes in that, don't you, Greg?"

Greg nodded, his blond face hard, the scar across his cheek white. He was already thinking about Valskoa. Not as good as Jaik, but cut from the same cloth. Mean, arrogant...

He turned to Mercan. Mercan was a good guy, but too volatile. "Stay out of whatever happens okay?"

Mercan had been about to say 'and let you have all the fun?' But something in Greg's face stopped him. This was a Greg he hadn't seen.

It was Larr who said it. "Then all of the rough action is on your side?"

"You got the first goal," Isley intervened. "Now move it, the lot of you or we'll be delaying the game."

***

"Not all the action, maybe," Tedia murmured on a private channel to Larr as they positioned themselves.

"Tedia, watch it. I keep meaning to tell you. It was Parnilsak who broke Roban's hand, and you've been crowding him."

"Si ..." Tedia's eyes were meditative, then as hard as Greg's had been as he watched Parnilsak opposite him.

***

That son of a bitch was going to get his face laid open again! Have a worse scar. Valskoa took a hard swing at Greg with the butt end of his stick.

Greg didn't dodge as much as he might have, but he did twist so the stick hit his helmet first and only slid onto his face. His cheek would be black for a week but... He raised his own stick as defense against the next blow.

Bourara was there. He was not going to let this deteriorate into another brawl. "Valskoa. You've got twenty. Greg, I'm not blind. Five and don't try that again."

Greg nodded. The ref was touchy tonight after those calls he missed last game. He hadn't quite got what Isley wanted, he was in the box. But they would be one man up for fifteen minutes.

***

Mikey deflected the shot. This was going to be the longest five minutes of his career. The Suns were determined to score while the teams were even. He was determined they wouldn't.

Tedia wasn't closest to the ball, but he was fastest and won the chase. As he netted the loose ball, Parnilsak gave him a vicious crosscheck. No broken ribs, Tedia decided, and he'd get even later. Right now they needed a security goal. He twisted past Parnilsak just 'accidentally' giving the tough brunette a kick that should bruise his calf for a week. That wouldn't bother him much in the court, pity, but anything else would have been called. Then he headed for the Suns' end.

Good. Gengo was already past Anhiorl heading deep into the Suns' end. Tedia passed off to him. Mercan and Larr had got themselves tangled up in a body jam behind the net, but Rundell was moving in too. Tedia hadn't had much chance to work with Rundell beyond light drills, but the man was good. The three started pressing in, passing back and forth.

"Plan to take the shot, Rundell," Roban murmured. Warkiza was more focused on Gengo, and Rundell could usually score on Broygum.

"Can't. Wrist." That low bounce pass to Larr had cost more than he anticipated. Rundell netted the pass already coming to him and didn't hesitate. Come on Warkiza. You can't see the pain and you know I can usually score. That's right. This way. Rundell accelerated to pass the massive blond, then at the last second passed off to Gengo, soft and easy on his wrist.

But that was all Gengo needed. It was a clean shot. Gengo scored. He had to admit these playoff goals were sweet, and first string ones sweetest.

***

"Rishic. Move up to replace Rundell for a shift," Isley said.

Behind Rishic he saw the longing on Sandlik's face. Just longing, not the bitterness and resentment he saw all too often on Red's. Sandlik was the one man who would not see first string time this series because he had to hold the second string together, and he was doing it well. He made a snap decision.

"Full line change when Greg comes out of the box."

Isley saw the grins on the whole second string. Significant time early on in a playoff game, and against first string. Scimkla wouldn't change lines yet, he needed a goal. Isley knew that penalty or not, conventional wisdom said he should wait until they were further ahead and only put these guys against Scimkla's second string when it came out, but he'd spent most of his career as a second string journeyman. Let these players see if they can create a little magic.

"Gengo. Are you good for the double shift?"

"Fine."

Right, Red thought bitterly. Right, you don't want my job. Now I'm not even second string. Gengo is doing both shifts.

"Kevin –"

"Don't," Tarell said quietly on a private channel. "Mikey is trying to be Menzaille. So far he has a shutout going. Let him see how long can do it."

Isley was not buying in. "These last four minutes have been brutal," he replied on the same private channel.

"And he hasn't folded. His focus is still there." Tarell studied Isley's face. "He needs the confidence more than the rest."

Isley shifted back to the team channel. "Kevin you don't go in until Mikey says so." I hope you are right Tarell.

As they counted out those last few seconds while Greg was in the box, defenseman Reladjn turned to Isley. "I'll enjoy this extra time."

"Do you want more first string time later too?" Isley asked the big black who had trained Maras to replace him as left defense. Reladjn had been on the team longer than he'd coached it, had five championship rings, and his jersey was in the Galactic Sports Hall of Fame.

The massive black chuckled. "I'd like it, and this old body couldn't take it. I just pray Maras manages to stay intact." He'd been back on first string when Maras did his leg in. He'd managed, but he'd felt it. And he didn't want to have to do that now.

Greg left the penalty box. Do it time! Isley slapped Reladjn on the shoulder as he jetted from the box, the last player to move into the court. He let his gaze move across the court to the Suns' box. Scimkla was frowning, talking rapidly on the team intercom. The red head must have felt the eyes though, because he momentarily looked across and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Understanding? Scimkla would remember that season, the magic.

***

Gengo took the face-off and led the press into the Suns' end. Usually when you were one up there was a sense of plenty of time, of control, of just waiting for the other team to make a mistake. But the excitement of his teammates was electric. Why not? Gengo accelerated to full jets, leading the V formation and veering right.

And what did he do now? Ertwaine asked himself as he jetted back and Kip moved forward to help him. In his peripheral vision he could see Anhiorl shifting as well, keeping on Gengo. This was their standard shorthanded response, a well practiced one since Valskoa took more than his share of penalties. And Ertwaine knew he wasn't off second string all that long. But Gengo's style was totally different from Red's. So was Marco's compared to Chan. He kept moving back, waiting for the pass.

It came, fast and hard to Rishic. Before Ertwaine or Kip could do a thing, as fast as the pass was netted, Rishic passed low and just as fast to Sandlik. It was safest that way Rishic figured since he knew Sandlik better than Greg.

A twist, a move up, and Sandlik was through the gap left by drawing Anhiorl to the right. There was just Warkiza to get past. He had moved center a bit too, hedging his bets. Just what he'd hoped for! With a spine twisting torque, Sandlik shifted from moving down to heading for the roof. Warkiza had too much inertia to match his speed. Waiting until he was as high as he dared, Sandlik deked that he was taking the standard over the goalie's shoulder shot taken from this high. At the last microsecond he jerked only his hand, not his whole arm, down for a bounce shot off the floor at Broygum's feet. It was risky at this angle, and you risked telegraphing it by arm motion. But Sandlik had perfected it – it was his way to move to first string.

Cursing, Broygum tried, but he didn't make the save.

Sandlik savored the glow of satisfaction as the team piled on him. But that was nothing compared to the thumbs up from Isley.

*****

Chapter 25

"Menzaille! Menzaille! Menzaille!"

The din was deafening. Isley wondered if Scimkla would give in to the pressure. Mikey had maintained his shutout until five minutes ago. Now, with 1:30 left in the second period they were leading 8 to 2 and the face-off was in the Suns' end.

"Menzaille! Menzaille!"

Scimkla turned, said something to Menzaille that Isley couldn't lipread, then waved Broygum in. Well, Menzaille probably wouldn't do much worse. Broygum wasn't having a great night. Isley smiled with satisfaction. The second string had their first string playoff goals.

"Gengo. You're taking the face-off. Try to break Menzaille with a fast goal."

***

Anhiorl was not taking this face-off. Gengo let his mind drift into that state that was part zen-like calm, part hyper-aware. Come on Bourara! Release that ball! Take your time. Get it exactly right. Gengo accepted the contradiction, lived it. There were advantages to being Li's son. He had done the thousand hours of practice needed to learn anything multiple times over with his father, perfecting every move, every trick. No, Anhiorl was not taking this face-off.

In an instant ... so infinitely slowly ... the ball was released. I'm too slow! Take your time! Be calm! Hurry! Hurry! Gengo got the ball well before Anhiorl, nesting it deep in the webbing of his stick. Nice try, Anhiorl, but it will take more than that to dislodge the ball. One twist, an upwards blast of jets, and he was past Anhiorl and moving into the Suns' end.

What would happen if he just went straight in on Menzaille? Kip would try to stop him of course ... Gengo accelerated, swerved down on an arc. Ah, Kip was a worthy opponent, strong, agile, smart. Gengo twisted again, slowed, let Kip move closer. Another twist, this one with an acceleration. Gengo watched the frustration on Kip's face as he dodged the check then slipped past.

Gengo moved in on goal. Eyes met. For a fleeting second Gengo felt sorry for Menzaille. He wasn't just spaced out like he had been in the shutout. Gengo doubted he even knew he was in an Octagla court at the moment. The fleeting second passed. Gengo took a shot, hard, fast, upper right just where the goalpost met the crossbar.

Menzaille made a token effort to stop it.

9 to 2.

***

"Great first half, Mikey," Tarell said quietly as he handed Mikey a drink and some protein rolls. He was not going to let the kid get into Menzaille's trick of not eating or drinking between periods.

Tarell decided he needn't have worried. Mikey was obviously parched and ravenous. He watched a quarter of the citrus go down in one long swallow.

"That's better." Mikey sighed and took a slower second drink. Did Menzaille feel like this before exhaustion hit? Euphoric. More than euphoric. He hadn't got a shutout, but it had been damned close. And he'd do better in the second half.

***

Twelve minutes into the third period Menzaille hadn't stopped a single shot. Kip and Warkiza were working hard, but the score was 15 to 3.

Scimkla turned to Broygum.

"I made a mistake pulling you. I'm putting you back in."

Broygum nodded. That was his job, to bail out Menzaille. But it would help if Tamara wasn't so hot tonight, out to make up for the shutout last night.

To deafening boos from the Pendrae fans, Red took his position at center and allowed himself a slight smile. He was having a good night, getting his share of goals; but too many of them were back on second string. Isley had him back on first string now though, and he'd make his time count, get a first string goal. Aggressive, Red got the ball. Now that he knew it, that pressure release trick of Anhiorl's didn't work any more. The ball stayed in his net.

Mercan was having a good night too, and they worked well together. It helped that Marco was having one of his better nights. Red passed off, and they started in, the right wing aggressively carrying the play. Back and forth, breaking and reestablishing rhythm to keep the Suns off balance, setting it up... Red started to accelerate, closing in on the goal.

"Hombre!" Marco snapped a fast pass to Tedia who was slightly behind Red and positioned for a screened shot.

Hombre? This was his play! Red watched in furious disbelief as Tedia scored in one fluid shot.

***

There were five minutes left in the game. Mikey knew they couldn't lose with the score 20 to 3. That wasn't the point. He was having his best game ever. He'd kept the Suns to two goals in the first half, one in the third quarter, and if he could survive these five minutes he would have shut them out in the fourth.

Big Luis was alternating between watching Mikey's face and the face-off being set up in center court. It wasn't a shut out, but this game obviously meant so much to him. Catching Mikey's attention, Big Luis gave him a wink and a thumbs up. He spoke quietly on a private channel of the intercom.

"Hey, Maras. Let's see how many assists we can get you for that MVP."

"Huh?" Maras turned, scowling. Didn't like having his concentration broken on a face-off.

"Five minutes left. How about you and I have some fun. Get you a couple assists."

A slow smile spread across Maras's face.

***

Red's pass to Mercan was intercepted by Ertwaine in center court. Okay, Maras, let's do it, Big Luis thought. Ertwaine was coming in high, Valskoa in low. Time for a little proactive play! He jetted hard for Ertwaine, leaving it up to Greg to block Valskoa. Greg was good for that. There wasn't much room between himself and Ertwaine. Ertwaine had obviously expected him to be moving back to cover both himself and Valskoa, not forward full speed, and he gained a fraction of a second while Ertwaine got over his shock. The stick check was almost too easy.

A grossly out of position Maras got the bounce. Seating the ball in his net just right, he passed full strength cross court and up to Tedia. Tedia were way in the Suns' end and kind of hovering by the roof. Rall gotta let him run roof real soon. Kid were gettin' antsy.

Tedia caught the pass easily, pivoted with that strange grace of his, and shot.

21 to 3, and Maras had his assist.

***

This were fun, Maras decided, a big grin on his face despite a stinging forearm where Parnilsak had slashed him. The slash weren't hard enough to knock the ball loose, and Bourara were gonna whistle down the play soon as the Suns got the ball. And that were going to be after Larr scored.

Experience told Maras not to pass to Tedia again. Tedia had got two fast goals, and them Suns was all over him. Besides, Larr'd know how to stretch out the time so there wasn't many seconds left after his shot. That were good. Because he were gonna whomp Parnilsak good and Isley would be pissed if he were in the box long. Best if it were after the buzzer.

Maras made his pass.

Larr caught it, and with the new move he and Roban had perfected scored with four seconds left.

Maras closed the distance to Parnilsak, stick held like a weapon.

***

Mikey wiped the sweat pools from under his eyes. He still didn't know how Menzaille did it, but he knew one thing. He had never been so tired in his life. Leaning back against the goal he shut his stinging eyes, totally oblivious to the tumult of the crowd.

"Great game, Mikey."

Frowning, trying to focus, Mikey opened his eyes. Kevin. How did he get here? For that matter, why was the team all hanging around, instead of hitting the showers? Oh ... maybe he should hit the showers too. He should move, sometime ... wash off the sweat, get on the space yacht, and sleep all two days to Tamara.

"Most Valuable Player for the game goes to Mikey."

The what? He was .... oh, who cared. Mikey knew that even two weeks ago he would have been ecstatic. Please, please can't I just go to the locker room, if I can start moving at all.

"Move it, hero." Kevin pushed him towards the center of the court as the sound system fed in the roar of Tamara fans around the galaxy.

It was starting to sink in. He'd had his best game ever, and he was game MVP! Mikey found he had the energy to grin and wave to the crowd as the team moved in to congratulate him.

*****

Chapter 26

"Hey, Reno. Want to clear out so I can talk to Daron?" Knett asked Daron's wiry soccer player friend as he walked in with the inevitable tray of snack food in his hands.

"What about?" Daron asked suspiciously.

"Big stuff, like what the hell you're doing with the rest of your life," Knett said cheer smile in place while he watched his patient.

"I'm out of here." Reno ignored the imploring look from Daron, grabbed two protein rolls from the tray, and left.

"And shut the door!" Knett put the tray on Daron's table then flexed his massive shoulders inside the washed out sweatshirt he considered a nurse's uniform.

"Yo."

The door closed behind Reno.

Daron eyed Knett with increased suspicion. "Okay Knett, what do you really want?" He was being way too cheerful.

His therapy session had been terrible. Daron had destabilized halfway through and had been shaking so badly it took Knett to get him in a wheelchair and back to his room. For once Daron hadn't argued about the helmet to monitor his brain. He was feeling slightly better in bed, but he was still having waves of tremors. He felt another start, amplified by fear at what bad news Knett had.

"Pretty much what I said." Knett dropped his bantering tone. The monitors showed he'd made a bad move using it. "Bottom line first so you don't stress even worse wondering." He was watching the brain activity, and Daron was doing a lousy job of visually hiding the tremors. "What would your attitude be to being an Octagla coach?"

"Very funny, Knett." Daron gave him a dirty look. "I'm unstable – the reconstruction didn't work. You were there in my therapy." He was shaking all over now. They had to finally admit that, nothing worked.

"That session just now scared you pretty good, didn't it?" Knett unscrewed Daron's beer and poured it for him. "Can you manage this or should I help?"

"Knett, I don't need a beer or you to feed me."

"Come on. I mixed all your meds into it as always. So get it down."

"Oh." Daron tried picking up the glass. He could just manage with both hands. He took a swallow, didn't choke, and tried another.

"Look, Daron. It's Trevarr and your neurosurgeon you have to talk to about stability. I would guess they can tweak your neural controller so something that severe is unlikely to happen again." But Knett doubted they could ever get Daron stable. "But let's try a little reality. You're alive. You're scared, but you aren't at risk of dying. So you've got to get on with your life."

"Like being an Octagla coach." He'd tried that idea on after the Celebrity game and been slowly forced to reject it as he'd been exhausted and had to be sedated at the end of the third period. "What are you on, Knett?"

"It's a serious offer, Daron. Joran has got an expansion franchise and he wonders if you want to be assistant coach. He's asked Torin to think about being head coach.

Daron blinked, totally forgetting the shakes. "When did this happen?"

"I heard about it right after Menzaille got his shutout." Knett grinned. "He wants Menzaille too. Joran said not to talk to you until he firmed up a few things on the money side. He has them firmed up, so I'm talking."

"Does Joran know how rough a shape I'm in?" Daron asked.

"More or less." Knett continued bluntly, "Trevarr wanted to say no for you, and I said to can it. You have those flashbacks, but they're trauma induced, not hallucinations. So you're mentally competent to make up your own mind. And Joran would like you to think about it."

Daron said slowly, "You stood up for me again." It was Knett who had talked them into letting him decide on his coaching the Celebrity game.

"I'm more used to trauma than Trevarr is. It's my specialty. Now, take time for the shakes to pass and then think. You've got lots of time and lots of the right friends to talk to for advice, starting with Torin. He's hesitating too - worried about setting back his recovery. Take it a baby step at a time."

Daron was barely listening. This coaching stuff was garbage, but Joran was acquiring a franchise? Did he dare tell Turq? Oh, how Turq wanted to get off Laurion. He could let Joran know...

"What did Torin say about Menzaille?"

"To wait until he'd blown several games in a row and cost them the series," Knett said dryly. "Now rest. I'll be monitoring you, or you can ring." Daron had to learn to live through these sessions of autonomic nervous system instability alone. He seemed to be in total denial that in ten days or so he was due to try being outside a clinic, and the intervals of instability would happen outside this safe setting.

"And is Torin interested in spite of his problems?"

"I'd say very, but he's thinking. Taking it in baby steps like you should." Knett was smiling as he shut the door. That had taken Daron's mind off his problems.

***

"Knett."

"Yeah?" Knett put the uneaten dinner tray back down. It was the first meal Daron had refused to eat in a while.

"Can I talk to you?" Daron looked at him, then the wall.

"Sure. Anytime."

"Shut the door."

Knett complied and sat down. For once he didn't put his feet up on the other chair or the table. Daron rarely asked for a shut door.

"What gives?"

"I'm scared."

"Pretty normal – but that's no help is it? Anything special you are scared of?"

Yes, but Daron wasn't quite ready yet. "How come Torin did so much better than me? I know you said he's hesitating, but he's so close to normal. He even played in the Celebrity Game."

"I've seen his medical records. They were transferred with his permission in case they were any use and we have his permission to discuss his case with you. His injuries were different."

"You mean I got decked worse." That was what Daron had expected.

"No, I mean different. His speech was terrible initially and that lasted for months, almost unintelligible. To get to where he is now must have taken years of hard work and therapy. And while you have flashbacks he really did hallucinate. It's controlled by medication – which he still takes by the way. And he had 60% paralysis one limb, 20% in another, even after reconstruction. That took years of physio to correct."

Daron stared and swallowed hard. Torin seemed so close to normal. He'd even played Octagla again and looked good.

"I guess you just said I'm a coward."

Knett shook his head. "I know you holoconferenced with that neurologist before supper." He looked at the untouched tray. "Did he tell you he couldn't do much for the neurological instability right now?"

Knett had been briefed and he knew it would be years before they could try another major reconstruction. And adjusting the controller wouldn't damp the tremors more than fifteen percent because of their point of origin.

Daron nodded.

"That's something Torin didn't have to face. Does the news scare you?"

Daron made a face. "The neurologist pointed out exactly what you did, that my life isn't at risk, just my quality of life. I made my own choice, didn't I?"

He sounded bitter, not scared, Knett decided.

"Okay, today I'm a moron. What are you afraid of?"

"Letting Joran down." Daron blinked back a tear. "Knett, you don't know how much I want to coach but I don't think I can do it."

Slowly Knett nodded. For someone like Daron to have to admit he might not be able to do something was hard, possibly terrifying.

"Why don't you just take it one day at a time?"

"Joran won't accept that. His offer – maybe it was just charity. Or maybe he doesn't know how rough I am." Daron made himself be honest. "I'm terrified just at the thought of taking a space yacht up to the space station – pulling all those g's. And what if a game freaks me out?"

"Let's take those worries one at a time," Knett said. "Joran has not seen your medical records – we aren't authorized to release them to him. You are the one who has to do that. But the man has eyes and he's a realist. I don't think he has any expectations. He'll just see how it goes.

"So it's charity then," Daron said bitterly.

"What did the neurologist say to get you in that mood?" Knett asked, not expecting an answer. "I'm not supposed to say this because Joran thought it might pressure you. But his idea was to hire me too, and give me a suite next to yours. When you're unstable I can help out. When you're having a good interval I can help at the clinic here. That doesn't sound much like charity to me."

"He'd do that?" This time the tears refused to be blinked back.

"Oh, he was serious," Knett said. "Now, here comes the big pressure." He grinned. "You're fixed for money. He's fixed for money. Me – I've never seen anything like that place of his. So if we can arrange my living there..." His feet went up on the spare chair, the man of leisure.

"Knett!"

That was better.

"Moving on with the list of your problems. Going up to the space station – bad idea for a few years, but hell, Gingezel has the best hyperweb around. Make use of technology. You did for the charity game.

"Freaking in games... good question. You'd just have to try it for size and see if it feels better or worse than the Celebrity game. I don't know that much about Octagla, but I suppose if you can't handle it you can be some kind of training coach.

"Mmm." Daron was thoughtful. He hadn't thought of that option.

"Got a dream team yet?"

"Just Ranga and Turq."

Knett's eyebrows went up. "That would be some combo. Joran still wants Menzaille, and Chan."

*****

Chapter 27

"Do you guys live here?" Chan demanded of Reno and Knett as he wandered into Daron's room, actually wearing sweats, not a robe.

He was prepared to reluctantly admit that feeling better could eventually happen. He'd been assertive and told Mai the crap she was putting in his bath was terrible. She'd blinked, said sorry, and come back with ten samples for him, and said to pick four favorites. Chan had. She'd got the giggles then because they were all from a line for women. He didn't give a damn. He liked flowers and visiting botanical gardens. Now he needed to talk to Daron about Joran.

"Pretty much." Reno waved at an empty chair. "We're helping Daron go through the get well messages. They're still coming in too!" He grinned. "Hot stuff."

Oh ... "Can I see?" Chan moved to look at Reno's compad. "Whew!"

He didn't sit down to help though.

"Look, I hate to break the fun up, but I'd like to talk to you alone, Daron." His sluggish brain took a moment, then added, "I guess you can stay, Knett." Knett would be Daron's keeper after all.

Reno asked a question at Daron with his eyes, shrugged, and stood. He'd really heard about it from Daron for leaving him alone with Knett.

"Octagla stuff, Reno. Take a walk."

Reno's face cleared and he nodded. Someone on Tamara had told Chan something that wasn't public knowledge. Well, that team would be secretive until playoffs were over.

"Call when you're done. I'm headed for the gym so Trevarr can't say I'm slacking off." He left, shutting the door.

"Unless you need me, I'm out of here too," Knett said. "Chan, I noticed a lot of art supplies in the corner of your room. Want me to unpack them?" Chan was still tired and depressed enough they'd be there a week from now and he'd feel guilty staring at them.

"Sure." He suddenly grinned, a vestige of the old Chan. "And later this afternoon if Daron doesn't need you, walk me down to the park and make me use them – or at least make me open my bag and lay them out. Then stand there until I feel guilty and pick up a brush."

"Will do." Knett left. These guys were tough realists about how life worked.

Chan claimed Knett's chair and used the table as a foot rest like Knett tended to. "Have you talked to Joran yet?"

Daron shook his head. "I need time to think."

"So do I." Chan looked at Daron. "You know Joran. I don't know him, beyond we'd nod at each other in the street. Watching the game at his place was the first time I'd been alone with him. Is this guy for real? I mean he acts on the spur of the moment, and it's like money doesn't enter into anything."

Daron found out he could still laugh. "The impulses – yes. And he gets himself in trouble that way now and again. But sometimes the impulses are good. Like Gingezel." Chan looked blank so he elaborated. "Creating the consortium was a spur of the moment thing. They were all having a supper party at Joran's and Jon got there late, all excited because he'd been talking to the pilots who discovered Gingezel – they were friends of Jon's, and I gather Joran just said, 'Why don't we buy it.'

"As for money – even when he was out of control on drugs he was in control on money, or more accurately he made sure Bojo was. Joran spends a lot, but he turns a profit on it."

Daron saw the frown on Chan's face. Chan still looked rough and his oriental skin had a strange sallow tone. "I don't mean he'd exploit a team any more than he exploits this planet. He'd take good care of a team. I mean that if he's going ahead, the idea might have been an impulse. But you can be damned sure everything was worked out in detail between him and his money men before he opened his mouth to the League Commission. If he says he can afford a team, he can."

"Mmm." Chan bit his lip, feeling disoriented. Then his offer might be real?

"What did he offer you?" Daron asked bluntly.

"It wasn't an exact figure. He asked Torin what he thought Menzaille was worth now that he'd had a shutout in the playoffs. Torin said 30% higher than Jaik signs for, even after he cost them the series. Right now you couldn't buy him."

Daron nodded. "That sounds right. He's made himself a legend."

"Joran told me I wouldn't get that much, but it would be a bit below Jaik's range. So I don't know." Chan floundered. "For sure not what you made. Mercan's level maybe?"

"Don't be sure, Chan. You made yourself a legend too."

"Sure, Daron." Chan picked up an unopened bottle of beer from the line on the table. "This any good?"

"The way Reno says it, it's an acquired taste. But are you allowed alcohol?"

"Damned if I know." Chan was removing the cap.

"Hold it!" Daron touched Knett's contact on his comm unit. "Knett, can Chan drink a Mokra lite?"

"Sure. That much alcohol won't hurt him any more than it hurt you, and lots of B vitamins in it. Since you're here, you guys doing okay?"

"Money talk."

"Mmm. Call me when I'm welcome."

Money talk. Knett grinned. That rather sounded like Joran was getting himself a team and he had two patients moving down the road to recovery.

Chan took a swallow. "That's good stuff!"

"If you say so. Back to money. Why couldn't you sign high?"

"I'm a journeyman, Daron."

Daron shook his head. "First string. You were great. I've never seen you play like that."

"And might not again."

"So you have to test yourself." Damn! He was starting to sound like Knett. Daron shifted ground. "What else did I miss in that little session?"

"Not much. Joran is really serious about Menzaille." Chan made a face.

"I'm with you. I've always been glad he wasn't behind me. He has a crap night and the rest of the team gets blamed. But don't worry. Torin does not want him at all."

"How do you know that?!"

"I got an earful about Joran's stupidity wanting Menzaille from Mai during my massage."

"Have you or Torin got anyone in mind?" Chan took another swig. That beer was so good. He'd make sure it was added to his diet.

"I have no idea what Torin is thinking. I'm thinking of Janus."

Chan's eyes widened. "Good move. He's way under-ranked playing planetary on Rujjipet like that." Why Janus wasn't galactic Pro was a mystery. They should have moved up at the same time.

Chan studied Daron laying there in the hospital bed, shaking now from simply talking. "Got a full dream team in your head?"

"Ranga." If he was playing for Gingezel Ghen could keep a better eye on him. "Spring Turq loose from that crap contract he has."

Chan nodded.

"You, if you decide that's what you want."

"Roban?"

Daron turned away. "Let's assume he'd even think about leaving Isley, I honestly don't think I could coach Roban. That's one of the things I have to think about. If there was a choice... Joran should go with him."

Chan looked at the averted face, the tremors amplifying. "So ask Roban which way he'd jump." There was no response. "Okay. I will."

Chan reached out a bony hand and activated Daron's comm unit.

"Knett, Daron needs you."

*****

Chapter 28

As requested Knett stood there patiently while Chan set up his easel and got out his paints.

"You always paint outside?"

Knett looked around the park. Spring still did not have a firm hold, and it was cloudy with a cold wind. A few blades of green grass were struggling through the brown mat, but the land sloped down to the north so the ground didn't get sun. Spring bulbs here would be weeks behind those in sheltered gardens.

"When I can." Chan was intent on selecting a broad coarse brush. "You wouldn't know it from my art." He painted harsh dynamic textured abstracts. "But it influences my mood and colors."

Knett turned his collar up to his ears and shoved his hands in his ski jacket pockets. "Some mood you'll get today. What does frozen look like in paint?"

"I'm in a foul mood anyways. Taking it out in paint might help." Chan took a look at the park, his equipment, and decided everything was good enough. He pulled a thick knit cap out of his ski jacket pocket and jammed it on his head, making sure his ears were covered. He might be depressed, but he wasn't looking for more problems like the ear aches he got as a kid. He'd had a sports store deliver enough winter clothes to stay warm painting. "You don't have to stick around."

"Actually," Knett was embarrassed, "will it upset you if I do? I take all of these courses about 'know how to communicate with and encourage patients with art therapy', and I've never done anything but doodle on my compad. So at lunch I went and bought a sketch pad and pen like Ranga has. I'd go way off there," Knett pointed in a random direction, "so you still have privacy and solitude."

"Suit yourself. You mean you counted on freezing?"

"No. At noon the sun was out and the weather report said it would stay nice. That's spring for you."

***

It took a moment for Chan to realize what he was hearing was the tone on his compad, and a longer moment to recognize the team tone. Fumbling with cold tired fingers he got it out. His frown disappeared when the identifier said Roban.

"Thanks for calling. I take it you're between hyperspatial jumps."

Roban nodded. "You didn't leave a message. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that, but this isn't message material. Are you alone, and can I ask you a question and explain later?"

Roban hesitated, his homely face concerned, then shrugged. "Okay. I'm alone."

"For enough money, would you trade from Tamara?"

Roban shook his head. "No. I'm here until Isley trades me. So tell whoever asked you that I'm not interested."

"Would you trade for reasons other than money?"

"That's two questions. And you know Isley could trade me if he wanted to. But voluntarily, no." Roban was trying to read Chan, but other than he was outdoors and looked cold and tired he wasn't getting anywhere. "Can you explain, or is it case of if my answer is no, you can't talk."

"I can talk, but don't spread it around." Chan tried to force his sluggish brain to work. "I mean, Marti must know... hell, Roban. My brain doesn't work yet. You're smart – just watch your mouth."

"Chan – we'll timeout!" The next hyperspatial jump would break communications again.

"Oh. Sorry. Joran has got an expansion franchise. He's putting together an Octagla team, sounding people out. If he asked you, now that you know who it is, would your answer change?"

Eyes wide, Roban slowly shook his head. "I like Joran and Gingezel, but no. I'm with Isley." He frowned. "Why are you in the middle?"

"Because Daron had me call, not Joran. Who he wants is Daron as assistant coach and Daron thinks Joran would be crazy to not try for you. But Daron said he wouldn't coach you. He'd say no to Joran first." Was that too blunt?

Roban's frown cleared. "I know what he means. It would be weird, put both of us off. Tell him to go ahead and good luck!"

The ship's pilot cut in to all outgoing messages. "Five seconds."

"I'll call him when we get to Tamara, that's the next opportunity."

***

Chan picked up his paintbrush, dipped it in pure black, and put it down again. The paint and canvas had served their purpose. He'd have it destroyed when he got back to the clinic. As Chan reached for the tube to put it in his bag a flash of color way off to the left caught his eye. Knett. He'd forgotten he was here. The man must be half frozen and bored by now. Why had Knett stuck around? Were they honestly worried at the clinic he'd go drown himself in the lake or something? He was depressed sure, but he knew it would pass as his chemistry stabilized.

Okay, I'd better go get him since I asked him here. But that was a long ways and the wind was even stronger. Move it, Chan told himself. He'd been tireder after a rough workout. Try a race walk just for the hell of it, maybe warm up. Halfway there Chan decided the race walking was working to warm him up. He picked up the pace to a jog, then slowed, intrigued. Knett was ignoring him. His face was almost pushed into a bush. Holding a fine line pen, he was sketching away.

"Knett!"

"Oh, hi Chan." Knett didn't turn. "Give me a second." He returned to trying to get the shape of the half open bud right.

Chan kept his distance in case Knett was touchy about having his art viewed. He needn't have worried. Knett rose, and thrust the drawing pad at him.

"They're pretty bad, but this is fun!"

Actually they weren't bad for a first try. Chan flipped the pages. There were three pages with fragments, small sketches of buds, leaves, branches meeting. "You're sure into realism!"

"My fingers decided that on their own." Knett flexed his stubby blunt fingers.

"Well, keep it up."

Knett gave noncommittal grunt. "How did yours go?"

"Ready for the trash."

"Can I see it?"

Chan hesitated, then shrugged. It would be rude to say no after freezing Knett like that.

Knett moved to see the canvas. The dominant color was slate gray. It had angry slashes of black and dark green.

"Can I take an image of it?"

"Why? It's garbage."

"It might help me get a little closer to how someone like you feels. Is life really that bleak right now?"

Embarrassed, Chan turned his head. "It will pass. Take a photo if it will help someone else."

***

A GV was pulling up to the clinic as they approached.

"That's Ranga, and his dad," Chan said. "But who's the woman?" She was a petite brunette he felt he should know, but couldn't quite place.

"Superstud's sister," Knett supplied.

Chan's eyes asked the inevitable question.

"Oh yeah," Knett said. "She's making working here a lot more interesting, not that she's noticed me."

Chan watched the group get out. It seemed like it took Ranga an effort to recognize him. Then he closed the distance.

"Hello Chan. Sorry I haven't visited you. I've only been at the clinic for my exercise sessions."

Ranga would have avoided those too if Ghen hadn't spelled out the consequences. All he wanted to do was hide somewhere, anywhere, by himself. At Ghen's he took long solitary walks or stayed in his room. When he thought he could get away with it, he stayed in his room at Elvira's suite. That was marginally better. She seemed to have a sixth sense when he needed her and when he needed to be alone.

He didn't want to be here today to have another round of surgery. Intellectually Ranga knew his rough time after the first session wasn't the surgery, it was the drugs and the beating that had preceded it. But the surgeon had told him to expect some problems this time too, that some of the drugs' effects were slow to clear. But there was no choice. His hand had to be worked on now.

"I've been lousy company," Chan said.

Ghen stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Good to see you, Chan. Ranga is here for the next round of reconstruction."

"And I'm here to hold his good hand until then, and be here when he comes to." Elvira closed the distance to Chan. There was no need to introduce herself. She'd seen the quick exchange between Knett and Chan.

"You were marvelous in overtime, taking the team into the finals. Isn't life like that – tough prices." Elvira stood on tiptoe to kiss Chan's cheek, but he was too tall and not helping at all. So she put a firm gentle hand on the back of his neck and pulled his face down to her height.

One peck each cheek, a touch to his lips in passing, so brief and gentle Chan thought he might have imagined it. Knett was right. She'd brighten the clinic up.

*****

Chapter 29

"Daron, how are you?"

Roban shifted on the bed to make more room for Atikujla beside him. The poor little thing was traumatized from the examination by the Tamara Ag inspector, even though the woman had been gentle. When he'd started to take one or two things out of his bag Atikujla had climbed into it. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get her out, and now it was almost time for practice. The call to Daron couldn't wait, so the unpacking would have to.

Daron hesitated. He didn't want to lie to his closest friend. "They said I can leave the clinic soon and try living on my own. That should make me happy, but I'd be a lot happier if the unstable sessions backed off first."

Roban put aside questions about the Gingezel franchise. "Are they getting worse?"

"Less frequent, more severe."

"And what does your neurologist say?"

Daron made a face. "Live with it. It could be years until they can try another round of reconstruction."

"And you'll be okay alone?" This seemed rather fast.

"Not exactly alone. Joran has offered me one of the guest suites in his penthouse. And we're going to experiment with Knett time splitting between there and the clinic."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Roban decided to risk being blunt. "Between that and the Gingezel expansion franchise I figured you'd be happy, or at least happier. So why not?"

"Ranga's out of the second round of surgery. Elvira has been with him, but when he slipped into a deeper sleep she came to talk to me. He's really really depressed. Not just depressed like you were with a hand to get going again. He thinks everything is his fault."

"Which it pretty much is," Roban said bluntly.

"Don't underestimate how persuasive Zloenni can be."

Roban shrugged that aside. He wasn't looking for a fight about that woman. "Have you told Trevarr? That level of depression is dangerous."

"Do you think I should?"

"Should what?" Knett asked from the doorway.

"Yes. Let me talk to Knett."

"I'm here." Knett rotated the comm unit. "Hi Roban."

"I was pretty depressed when my hand was shattered. I hear Ranga is worse. That level could be dangerous. Can you warn Trevarr?"

"Will do – right now if you don't need me Daron."

"Go ahead." Daron turned the comm unit back and asked Roban. "Should you have done that?"

"Serious depression is dangerous."

Now that Trevarr would know about Ranga, Roban was more worried about this continual indecision and hesitancy by Daron. Daron always had all the answers, whether they were right or wrong. He definitely needed to be out of a clinic setting.

"You getting out of that place at all?" Roban knew Daron had meant to watch the shutout game at Joran's then ended up needing sedation.

"Knett has told Chan and me we're going to the Waves on the Shore Cafe for supper tonight as therapy. I think Knett just wants an excuse to eat there. He was going on about this sandwich they have." Daron looked away. "We have a private room so I can make a mess."

Good for Knett. "Remember me trying to learn to eat with my hand? Disaster time for what seemed like forever."

As Roban remembered it, there was only one entrance to the cafe and the private rooms were at the rear. So in a few hours there would be images all over the web of Daron entering in his wheel chair, Chan with him. With luck the pair would get a standing ovation. But what would Zloenni make of it? He suspected she was telling herself Daron was better than he was and Ghen was exaggerating his wrath.

"Now, I have to go to practice in a few minutes, so do you want to tell me what's up with Joran and a Gingezel franchise?"

"You know it can't be talked around until the league announces it."

Roban nodded. "But it is real?"

Daron nodded.

"And are you going to be assistant coach?" There was that hesitation again. Daron wasn't answering, he was communing with the wall.

"I hope Chan remembered to tell you I honestly couldn't be tempted. So that isn't the barrier." Roban wouldn't bet on it. Chan was still pretty far off mentally.

"He told me. Thanks." Daron turned to look at his friend. "You have to understand. You were choked on your hand. What if I can't do it?"

"What if you could, and didn't try? Think of all you'd miss."

"But seriously – what if I can't?"

"Joran will hire someone else," Roban said realistically.

"Thanks." Daron gave him a wry smile. "Actually, that probably did help. But I really am scared. What got you past it with your hand?"

"Trevarr. He got fed up one day and said I wasn't trying, and if it wasn't unprofessional he'd slam me into the wall and pound me out. And that he was taking a run to calm down and if I wasn't exercising when he came back to hell with it, he'd be unprofessional."

"Mmm." Daron bit his lip. "I must not be doing too bad. He hasn't resorted to threats yet."

"Look. I really do have to go. Does not talking it around mean you haven't called Turq yet?"

Daron grinned.

***

Larr and Rall were slow getting to Immigration and Agriculture. At the last minute Isley and Rall had decided they needed to discuss a few things. So there had been no alternative but for Larr to impatiently wait.

Now, the same Tamara Ag official who had processed Roban and Maras looked at the manifest, reached down, put the carrier on a sterilized counter, and opened the carrier cover. Jellybean poked her head out, proving that the manifest was accurate. The carrier contained one healthy beagle pup.

"The manifest says she has all her shots, and she looks healthy. Do you need to hold her while I do a few scans? They aren't invasive or painful, but the equipment might frighten her." She doubted it though. The little animal seemed very trusting and outgoing, not like Roban's dog. That poor thing had been terrified.

"Try it and see how it goes. We travel steady, so it's best if she gets used to it." Larr shifted his attention to Jellybean. "Sit still, Jellybean. The lady won't hurt you."

Jellybean looked at Larr, then at the stranger and the probe approaching her. She studied the shifting lights and tried to smell it. This was something new. It made a nice hum, but it smelled a bit odd.

"Be still, Jellybean."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Rall announced from his position leaning on the wall.

"You don't like dogs, do you?" Larr asked. He'd always wanted a dog and never been allowed one.

"I like dogs fine," Rall said, "but your mother doesn't. Or at least she never liked them well enough to want both a dog and a kid to take care of while I was away playing."

"Oh." Larr had always assumed Rall was the spoilsport. He was beginning to wonder if he knew his father at all. "So it isn't a great idea to give Jellybean to Little Al?"

"I'm just going to watch," Rall said dryly.

"She's fine to take into the space station, Larr," The Ag official said.

"Thanks." Larr looked at Jellybean who was trying to climb out of the carrier to get to him now that the examination was over. "Sit, Jellybean."

Jellybean sat.

Larr was starting to feel like 'Sit, Jellybean' was becoming the main phrase in his vocabulary. He couldn't quite imagine his mother being patient with Jellybean.

"I don't want to make problems. You've both been so good to me. I'll keep Jellybean with me and Little Al can visit her."

***

"Da!" Little Al had his arms open for a hug the minute Larr stepped in the portel room door.

"Hang tough!"

Larr lowered Jellybean's carrier, dropping it the last twenty centimeters to grab Little Al because it looked like Little Al would squirm out of his Ingar's arms.

Jellybean hit the floor with a yip.

Larr took Little Al into his arms for a hug. He didn't look tired and cranky to Larr, and he wondered if that had been an excuse for them not to be seen together on arrival.

"How you doin' Little Al?" Larr ruffled the short tight curls.

Little Al gave Larr a sloppy kiss, then transferred his attention to the carrier where Jellybean had stuck her nose out.

"Down!" Little Al was imperative.

"Quit wiggling. There you go." Larr looked warily at his mother. "I've got a pup. So do Maras and Roban. It can travel with me, and Little Al can play with Jellybean when I'm home."

He and his mother were already at an impasse. She had said she was glad he was going to be with Little Al more, but when it came time to travel to Tamara and Larr had suggested Little Al stay on with him, she had swung to the stance that traveling with an Octagla team was no life for a child. Even when Larr had said he'd hire a nanny, she had not been enthusiastic. Larr realized Little Al was his son and he could do what he wanted, but a feud with his parents when he and Rall were just working things out was not what he wanted. Maybe if this visit went well at least she'd bring Little Al to a lot of the games.

Jellybean was sniffing the fingers Little Al had poked in the grill.

"Here, let me introduce you properly. Sit Jellybean." Larr carefully opened the lid, ready to grab Jellybean if it turned out she didn't like toddlers. He watched as Little Al pulled himself up with the edge of the carrier, and looked in. Jellybean stared back, and craned her neck as far as she could and still sit, trying to lick Little Al. Little Al tried to bend closer, and almost fell in.

Larr laughed and picked up Jellybean, putting her on the floor. "Here you go, Little Al."

"The dog can help you entertain Little Al tonight while we practice. She's mostly house broke, and I've got diapers for if she's getting excited." Larr said.

Ingar and Rall looked at each other over Larr's head. Ingar raised an exquisitely shaped blonde eyebrow that said, 'You always wanted a dog, you take care of it.'

*****

Chapter 30

He was staying on the main Tamara space station! Tedia had tried to act blasé while the team traveled from their spaceship to immigration, rode down the elevators to the rim, and then walked to their portel rooms. He doubted he had succeeded though. He had played on the smaller space station for a galactic Junior A tournament, but they had commuted up for games from planetside. The idea had been that it was good for the tournament participants to learn other cultures. It was a well intentioned idea, but they had all spent their time on the space station, only going planetside to sleep.

He had thought the smaller older station was amazing, but this one ... There was color, decoration, soft sound everywhere. It ebbed and flowed, always gentle, never overwhelming. Tedia could not decide if it was fascinating or distracting. As he moved to put his bags on the bench at the end of the luxurious bed a wash of color spread across a wall and shifted to a pastoral hologram with nature sounds. He stared, trying to decide what planet it was. Then he shook himself. He had exactly a half hour before one of the special practices and he intended to spend it exploring. Tedia left the bags his mother had packed unopened and picked up a small bag he'd bought on the Pendrae space station. It was the size of Larr's. If Larr could put everything he needed in one like that, so could he. Bag in hand Tedia walked into the lavatory, freshened up in less than two minutes, and headed out.

"Hombre! That was fast." Marco had the door to his room open, expecting Greg.

"I want to explore." Preferably without company. Tedia kept walking to ensure that, but he froze as he realized Marco's room was an ordinary room. No moving images, no sounds. This was more important than a walk, and Marco wouldn't laugh at him. He stepped to the doorway.

"It looks like there is a way to turn the environment off. How?"

"Driving you crazy already?" Marco asked. "Come here and I'll show you. They hide it in the comm unit controls. There are a lot more comfort controls than most space stations too."

***

That lesson had ended up with him having company exploring, but Tedia decided he didn't mind. Marco and Greg were unusually quiet, almost oblivious to him or where they were. As they rounded a corner Tedia could see a park in the distance with what he assumed was an elaborate water sculpture.

"It's worth looking at, hombre," Marco said. "Do you mind if we leave you here?"

"No problem. Where are you headed?"

"To an observation room closer to the core where we can stare at Tamara." Marco was slightly embarrassed. "That's home for both of us now – wives, kids. We want to be able to see it while we call down and say we're here."

"It's weird." Greg made one of his few comments. "We're stuck up here, not taking the shuttle up for games. Planetary Pro we only stayed up for back-to-back games. Same when we sub. Our women say they don't mind, and they'll come up for the games. But it feels wrong."

Greg needed his wife to give him a big hug and a kiss, to tell him how happy she was he was on the team for the playoffs. He needed the night with her after the kids were finally asleep.

Tedia nodded. "See you at the regular practice then."

***

The movement and color that had bothered him in his room felt right here in the park. Tedia walked slowly around the fountain studying it at various angles, watching the splash of the water and the shifting light. Then he went around again and stopped at his favorite spots taking holograms to send his mother. She'd love them. The timer on his wrist cuff interrupted him. Enough touristing. It was practice time. As he turned to go, three girls walked into the park. They had patterned shirts over unitards, and the unitards' colors shimmered and flowed more brilliantly than the spotlit water. Cute, really cute, although he suspected they were aiming at sexy the way their blouses were tied.

"Isn't that Tedia?" The tall blonde asked the little brunette with a green streak in her hair.

Embarrassed at being caught giving them the once over, Tedia averted his gaze and turned back to the fountain.

"It must be. He looks like on holovision and he's wearing a Tamara jacket." The brunette raised her voice. "Tedia? Can we have your autograph?"

His back was to them, so they couldn't see him. Tedia let himself make a face. If they wanted to talk too, he would be late enough he'd have to do a wind sprint to an elevator to get to the Octagla court on time. And of course Larr would think it was hilarious. Putting on a smile, he turned back.

"Of course."

***

He was back on the Tamara space station. Red tossed his bag on to the bed and waited for the lift that knowledge always gave him, the lift he had first felt when he was traded to Tamara. It didn't happen, and he knew why. This might be his last time playing here for the home team. Oh, he hoped they went on to play Pendrae United. That would be a dream, fighting for the three-peat. But it wasn't a given if Menzaille stayed hot. And if it did happen, it only delayed the inevitable. He was going to get cut, traded. Isley hadn't said a word, but he knew.

Red slumped into the chair, pressing a hand to his brow. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Don't they say be careful what you wish? He'd wanted so hard to replace Daron, but not with him in a hospital bed! Sometimes the way the guys looked at him when he went into position in the court, you'd think he'd broken Daron's bloody neck. And Gengo. It was common talk now that he had turned Isley down to replace Daron, so Gengo had told him the truth, but that didn't make sense! But then Gengo didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. Everything should be wonderful – just what he wanted. It wasn't, and it didn't make sense.

He might as well unpack. Red lifted his head and stared at the beautiful beach scene that the space station had on record as his preference for the nature wall and was always waiting for him. Unpack, then what? Usually he joined someone heading out, but now when he approached a group they all suddenly had something urgent to do – alone. Red went through the motions of hanging his clothes, shifted the wall to the sports on holovision, watched a few seconds of wrestling, then snapped it off. He couldn't stand this room another second! Jaw set he headed out the door with no destination in mind.

Ten minutes later Red knew he wasn't any calmer. Ahead was one of the sets of elevators to the core. That might help, a few minutes just looking out at space. He wouldn't be long enough to bother going back for a weightless unitard. Red joined the growing cluster of people.

"Red!"

Automatically Red took the hand of a solid Latino man. The grip confirmed the man worked weights. Probably a factory shift worker. Red played a mental game of classifying the fans he met.

"Gonna kill them tonight?"

"Better believe it!" The answer came automatically. Everyone was focused on him now, with the level of attention a first stringer got. Savor it, he told himself as he made the standard replies. Why didn't it feel good?

The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. The tiny Oriental woman who had been flirting with him managed to be beside him, and gave him a dazzling smile. He'd decided she was some cosmetic company's sales rep doing the rounds. She was too short to work fashion. The factory worker gave him an encouraging wink. Red kept making routine replies. Why wasn't he picking up the pretty young woman? Why the hell was the elevator taking so long? He was trapped in here. He should have just walked the periphery a couple times.

At last, maybe two seconds later, the door opened for the observation deck and he stepped out, blessedly alone. He stood there, just taking in the panorama. The planet, with its tracery of lights, the moon. This was good, true solitude. Then Red became aware of two men off at the corner up against the window, just staring out like he was. It took a moment, then he recognized Marco and Greg. Red hesitated, and moved towards them. He wasn't exactly enjoying his own company.

***

So he was coming over. Greg had recognized Red by his reflection in the window. He doubted Marco had even noticed the elevator door slide open and closed. He was totally engrossed in images his son had sent. Greg watched Red's reflection approach for a moment then turned as the footsteps became audible.

"Red." Greg openly studied Red. He'd looked not exactly upset in the reflection, but he was not the arrogant aggressive guy he usually was. Now that he could see it clearly, Red's face wasn't Red's either. Miserable might be too strong, unhappy was too weak.

"Weird for Marco and me," Greg volunteered. "We've always wanted to actually be on a Galactic Pro team in playoffs, not just sub. It's happened, and..." He tailed off and shrugged. "Weird."

What was Greg doing talking like that to Red? Marco turned the image off and focused first on his friend, then Red. Red didn't look so good. He sick or something?

"We just called our families," Marco volunteered. "Want to see my boy? I think he's been practicing making ugly faces." He turned the images back on and handed the compad to Red.

Red wasn't sneering, or smiling. Just looking. Marco tried to decide if Red wasn't even seeing with that half unfocussed stare, or if he was making sure he could pick the kid out in a crowd. Marco caught Greg's eyes with a question. That was pretty much how you talked to Greg. He wasn't like Maras who had trouble speaking. He simply didn't like to speak. It wasn't autism, either. His chatterbox wife had eventually had him screened. Greg just didn't like to bother to talk. He watched instead.

Greg shrugged. He could guess though. It hadn't taken two practices to figure out Isley was calling around to replace Red. Red wasn't stupid, he must know.

"Must be weird for you too," Greg said. "You had to have wanted to be first string, but not with Daron wrecked like that."

"Not great," Red agreed with a nod of gratitude, then looked for a change of topic before there was sympathy he didn't want or need. He didn't need sympathy, did he? Did he?

"Marco, how does your kid make that one face? I mean I know his tongue is in his cheek..."

"Don't ask me," Marco said. "I tried a couple minutes ago and almost sprained my tongue. Probably shoves something in his mouth." He looked at his time strip. "Want to go back to the periphery, eat something, then let Greg clean us out at cards?"

***

The dressing room door opened and Tedia sprinted in, then froze as he met Rall's glare.

"Fans. Three girls." Tedia was moving fast again, heading towards his gear. The brunette had tried to keep him there with a million questions.

Rall grimaced, and shrugged philosophically. Female fans would stay a problem with Tedia. He was young and he had the looks.

"They pay our salaries," Isley said. "Catch up to us in the court."

Tedia nodded and refused to meet Larr's eyes. The grin on his face was quite enough.

***

Larr muffed the pass from Maras and swore.

"I assume we're having private practices so the team doesn't kill itself laughing?"

"Yup. Got to look good first."

Maras had obviously taken him completely seriously which partially restored Larr's temper, but only partly. He turned to his father, not expecting help but with no one else to ask.

"Rall. I'm getting more comfortable here on the roof with Tedia and Gengo, but I lose concentration every time I deal with the floor. Any suggestions?"

"May I come close and listen too?" Roban asked politely.

"Uncle Barranb?" Larr asked.

Roban nodded.

Rall looked in confusion at Isley.

"Another secret weapon. Roban has an uncle who does these amazing player specific Octagla simulations for us. I'll show you some over a beer. Right now see if you can help Larr."

Rall nodded. Maybe for once in his life Larr would listen.

***

"He's good on the roof, Li," Rall said. While he and Larr had similar builds, Li only resembled Gengo in that he was short and oriental. The set of the shoulders, the neck thickness, the waist differed.

"How good?" It seemed like he'd waited forever for this call, although realistically the practice had been a normal length.

It was the inevitable question, and Rall didn't have an answer. Even if he took it as two questions, 'How good is he?' and 'Is he as good as I was?' there was no answer.

"I can't say yet. I'm seeing big improvement from practice to practice." Rall hesitated. Part of the problem was that he wasn't a center. Li could tell him in one look. And Isley would kill him if he had recorded so much as a second of their secret practices. "Why don't you come and judge for yourself?"

"No."

The answer came instantly with no hesitation. Rall tried to read Li's face, and failed as always. That was part of why he had been so great in a court.

"You're deciding too fast. Larr and I are sort of getting along."

Li grunted. "Change that to I can't. Gengo said so much as set foot on a space station while he's playing for Tamara, he won't suit up. He meant it."

Rall took his time considering. When they had pushed Gengo to play, his final capitulation had been a reasonably good natured 'enough! I'll do it.' And his estimation was that Gengo was enjoying himself although he wasn't much easier to read than Li.

"So what did you say to him after we all talked?" Rall asked bluntly.

Li stared back at him, dark eyes unapologetic, and didn't say a thing.

*****

Chapter 31

They was trying something different. Maras had been forced to admit Silky weren't doing so good figuring out treadmills. She liked it real good when he held her with one arm and went on one so she'd get used to it and not be scared. And when he sat her beside one, and told her to sit and watch him so she could see how they worked, she sat real good, and watched him. And they would both stand there and watch Jellybean running on a treadmill while Larr ran on the one beside her. But when he put Silky on a treadmill track and started it, she just sat there until she got near the end and started to fall. Then she yelped in terror and Maras had to grab her fast. She'd thank him for the rescue with grateful licks.

After five tries like that Maras had asked Larr for advice. For sure Silky were as smart as Jellybean, so she got to be able to do it. When he stopped laughing, Larr had said Silky understood treadmills real good, and she had a new game, so he might as well give up and do something else. Maras weren't sure Larr had it right that Silky had a game going at his expense. Would his little Silky do that?

But Larr were right that he had to try something different to keep his doggie in shape, so he was. Him and Silky was taking one of the designated walks on the space station. Usually Maras avoided the walks and stuck to the treadmills so's he'd get a better workout. It were too easy to get distracted on a walk and the Tamara space station were real pretty with parks and fountains and even one waterfall. And sometimes a fan stopped him for an autograph. Most often though he came across something real interesting – a wall panel down for maintenance, or the door open to the sewage treatment, or a window to some factory. Then he got busy looking and forgot his walk.

But today him and Silky was walking. It were a nice short one and a half kilometer walk, the one with a purple guide line, 'cause he wanted to let Silky get broke in slow. It weren't good to try some new exercise too hard. Maras turned to look at Silky again as he did every ten meters or so.

"How's it goin', Silky?"

Silky gave a little yip as she trotted behind him.

"That's good. This is fun, isn't it?"

Larr had said he was supposed to have her on a leash, but he weren't putting no rope on Silky. He'd just pay the fine if someone complained.

Maras stopped checking. This walking were pretty good. Weren't much going on along this route, mostly closed office doors. Just nice patterns on the walls and a mandala every twenty meters or so. The yellow path he tried once went to two parks with things for the kids, and there were too much to see. He'd ended up spending twenty minutes watching two brothers showing off. The little one were really coordinated, could climb anything. The big one took a fall. He were lucky he didn't knock a tooth loose. This purple walk were fine though and he was getting his stride and starting to have a light sweat. Did he heard a whimper? Maras listened but didn't turn. Nah. He'd imagined. He focused on his first distraction, three men in coveralls down the hallway. He couldn't figure out what they was doing but it looked important. Was lots of carts and tools and some guy what must be the boss were lookin' cranky.

There was a yap, and Maras turned. Silky was lying down a ways back, her chin on her paws. She gave him a dirty look.

Maras walked back to her and crouched down. "You okay Silky?" he asked with concern.

Silky just looked at him with big reproachful eyes.

Maras petted her and she gave a little wriggle which was reassuring. He felt her nose. It seemed normal. A video about doggies said a hot nose were bad, doggie was getting sick. But she didn't lick him, which were bad.

"Come on Silky." It weren't like they gone far, not over a half kilometer. He hadn't even worked up more than a light sweat.

She just looked at him.

Maras put his hand under her belly and lifted her to her legs. The minute he let go she went plop like her legs was jelly and whined.

"Oh Silky. You all tuckered out?"

Maybe it were a long way for a pup. Them legs was short. She had to take a lot of steps for one of his. Maras very gently scooped Silky into his hands, rose, and continued his walk holding her. He really wanted to see what them guys in the coveralls was doin'. The boss were calling someone now on his compad, and looking mean.

***

"So, Silky, where do you think them's from?"

Maras pointed to two women ahead of them on the walking path, both obviously tourists and taking images of each other. They should'a taken the walk with the parks, woulda got better images. The tall cocoa one were pretty.

"Think she'll want an autograph?"

He wouldn't mind so much for a hot babe like that. Maybe they'd take an image of him and Silky. Would Silky like that? He turned to get Silky's opinion. He'd put her back down when she started to squirm after a nice long rest. What?! Silky weren't there. For a moment Maras stood staring, convinced he weren't seeing right. She weren't there! He looked down the hall each direction. No Silky. She were gone!

For a moment Maras panicked. Then his common sense and his years on defense staying calm took over. She weren't gone. There was no way for somethin' to disappear on a space station. She'd just got herself lost – seen something interesting or smelled something and wandered off. And it were up to him to find her. Ignoring the women who had seen him and called his name, he started slowly back down the hall and opened the first door without signaling or knocking.

"You seen my doggie?" Maras demanded of a sour looking middle-aged bureaucrat.

"A dog? Of course not." The man barely looked up from his desk. Then belatedly he focused. "Are you Maras?"

But Maras was already gone leaving an open door behind him.

***

It weren't so good. No one had seen Silky, and now Maras was at a point where a corridor intersected the one he was walking down. That weren't a problem for him. He could follow the purple colored line good around the corner. But would Silky know about walk guide lines? Maybe she would have followed his smell from before. Maybe something else smelled good and she followed that.

Maras stood there indecisive, looking all three ways for inspiration. It didn't help. Well, he'd just have to check them all till he found her. First, he'd check the way he came.

Six doors later, three closed, two open, and one having to be signaled to open, it weren't looking good. No one had seen Silky, and this were taking a lot of time. She could be lost and scared. She might have got sick. Maybe doggies got sick without hot noses. Maybe someone stole her. Maybe he should get the security guards on it. There was plenty of them so they could look lots of places at once. But he'd have to call them and explain and fill out papers and that would take time. That would be real bad if she were scared or sick. How many more doors should he try?

*****

Chapter 32

Very worried now and expecting a brush off, Maras was hardly paying attention as he poked his head into the open doorway that came next. But before he could speak the woman at the desk put her finger to her lips in the universal shushing motion, and with her other hand pointed out of Maras's line of sight. Cautiously Maras stepped forward and looked. Silky! There she were, sound asleep on a green plastic visitor's chair, all snuggled up on something pink and fluffy. What were she on? The woman's cardigan? The woman was wearing the mid tone blue blazer all of the space station office staff did.

Kneeling down Maras asked in a husky tense voice. "Silky. Are you all right?"

Silky half opened one eye, and for a second the tip of her little tongue protruded in what might have been her usual greeting lick. Then she was asleep again.

"She's fine, Maras."

Carmen had no doubt who she was talking to, although she'd only seen Maras in the Octagla court and on the news. He certainly was huge up close! They were all gossiping about Maras and Larr and Roban acquiring pups and what a nuisance they'd be to the team staff.

"I gave her a drink of water, and she's been napping. Why don't you sit down and I'll tell you what happened. I have my own little Blinky so I know how you've been worried."

The woman had a nice voice, pleasant and soft, Maras decided as he straightened from his crouch. He gave the visitor's chair a doubtful look. Them things just wasn't made for anyone his size. The lady must have shared his doubts because she rose and grabbed the back of her chair, pushing it around the desk.

"Maras, please, sit here in my chair. You'll be more comfortable."

Now that were a better chair. Nice and wide and solid and comfortable looking, rather like its owner Maras decided now that he had time for a better look at her. She looked like a real nice lady, maybe twenty-six or so, with black hair pulled back real sensible, and the kind of coloring and face shape where it were hard to say if she were mostly Latino or had a touch of cocoa.

Maras bent over to pick up Silky, and in the process disturbed the fluffy pink nest. An sleeve emerged, so it were the lady's cardigan. That were real nice of her. Only it was kind of a mess now. Besides being pink and fuzzy there was lots of long blonde dog hair on it. And he'd brushed Silky once already today. Holding Silky, Maras straightened.

"I'm real sorry –" he stopped, peering and trying to read her photo identification, but she were too far away. "I don't know what to call you."

"Carmen."

"Well, Carmen, I'm really sorry. You've got dog hair all over your cardigan." Maras didn't have the slightest idea what to do about that. "It was real nice of you though to let Silky sleep on it," he added as an afterthought as he settled himself onto Carmen's chair.

"Don't worry." Carmen lifted her cardigan from the visitor's chair and pushed the small chair behind her desk. "I'm used to pet hair. And – did you say your adorable little friend there is called Silky?"

Maras nodded. It was real good to sit and rest. He'd talked more than he usually would in a week asking about Silky, and worrying were hard work.

"Well, Silky really was tired, and this chair," Carmen shifted slightly, "is a bit hard." She gave Maras a conspiratorial smile. "I think management does that on purpose so no one settles in and keeps us from working."

A real nice lady. Maras nodded, still resting his voice.

Carmen took the silence in stride. "Shall I tell you just what happened?"

Maras nodded. He'd been real worried.

"Well, I was just sitting waiting for someone to call me back with some figures, and I saw you walk past carrying Silky. A bit later Silky came into view from the other way. All of a sudden she just laid down, plop, like her legs gave out, and whimpered."

Poor Silky. Maras gave the sound asleep dog an apologetic pet, but he felt a rush of pride. She were real smart. She were tired so she were going home.

"I knew she was yours of course. Everyone is talking about the dogs you and Roban and Larr have now. Silky looked down the hall over her shoulder for a moment, like she expected you to come for her. Then she shut her eyes and went to sleep. I waited a bit longer, thinking you'd come back this way too, then I decided she really shouldn't be out there. Someone could come hurrying along or pushing a cart and hurt her."

That would'a been terrible! Maras hadn't thought of those nasty possibilities, and he gave Silky another apologetic pet. He'd just figured she were exploring, not all wore out. Good thing Carmen took care of her.

"So I went out and picked her up, and put her to sleep here. She was very easy to handle and quite friendly."

"Docile." Maras looked at the sound asleep pup. He liked that word, though he still couldn't figure out why the other night when he'd been real sleepy and he'd told Larr he were feeling docile Larr had almost choked laughing.

"Yes. That's a good description of Silky. And now," she looked at her wristband, "I don't mean to be rude but we should be going. It's quitting time and then some, and the cleaning staff will want to come through." Carmen had seen Maria start doing the office across.

"How about I buy you supper?" Maras asked. "Silky's gonna be real hungry when she wakes up."

"Thank you Maras, but I can tell you right now none of the restaurants allow pets. And your poor Silky has had a bad enough time. You will want to be there for her when she wakes up."

"Nobody's going to let Silky eat?" Maras scowled his displeasure at this discovery. So far it hadn't mattered because he'd eaten in or had a pet sitter but he just assumed Silky would go with him eating out.

"Definitely not. I've asked every restaurant and cafe, because sometimes I don't want to eat at home alone, but I hate to leave Blinky. He's alone too much as it is."

A real nice woman. "What's Blinky?" Maras imagined a fat, sleepy dog of some sort.

"A rodent from Rujjipet."

The revulsion showed on Maras's face. Rats was one of the worst things in the complex he grew up in. "You got a rat?!" he demanded.

"No, no," Carmen hastened to reassure her new friend, although she didn't know why some people disliked rats. She'd seriously debated between Blinky and a white rat. "Do you know C.C. Windegren, the terraformer?"

"Sure. Everybody knows C.C. He comes to Big Luis's parties lots."

Big Luis's parties. Carmen couldn't still quite believe she was talking to Maras. She'd heard so much about Big Luis's legendary parties. A friend had reassured her once anyone could walk in, Big Luis didn't mind, but she'd never had the nerve. All she had done was dream.

"Have you ever seen the little pet from Gingezel C.C. has?"

"Darwin?" Maras liked Darwin. He squeaked real cute, and he got around good for having a bum leg. And he was always watching everything. "Sure."

Carmen risked assuming sure was approval since, after a moment, it appeared it was the only response she was getting. At any rate the scowl was gone.

"Well Blinky looks a lot like Darwin. He's about the same size, like a Terran squirrel. Only he's blonder than a Pikkant and has longer fur, and he has different marks on his back." She smiled. "And he has long tufty whiskers that seem to tickle his face, then he blinks. That's why I call him Blinky."

That sounded all right. Darwin weren't no rat. "I'd like to see him." The whiskers might look funny. He liked funny looking animals.

"Well, why don't you and Silky come have supper with us?"

At the look of shocked disapproval on Maras's face Carmen's hand flew to her mouth and she blushed an unbecoming scarlet that stained her creamy skin.

"Oh dear! You're Terran, aren't you? I didn't mean, I mean I'd never – Oh dear! How will I ever get promoted if I forget every cultural lecture they give within a week?"

She were bent over fussing with her sweater now, folding it like millimeter precision was essential. Over his initial shock, Maras watched her averted profile. It weren't her fault she was brought up where they got no standards. She were still a nice lady. If he didn't have Cailla, he'd try to get to know her better. But now he didn't need to find a nice lady. As he watched the second sleeve being positioned with precision inspiration struck. He didn't need another nice woman, but Larr sure did with Little Al to raise. And that would make it all right. A bunch of people with a kid havin' a dinner weren't the same as a man and woman alone.

"How about I call Larr up, and he can bring Little Al and Jellybean. It would be fine then."

"Great." She'd get to see both other dogs. Little Al and Jellybean. She filed away the names. "Could you call him now, then we really do have to go." Roban must be busy with something and Larr was dog sitting. As Maras called Carmen waved an apologetic hand to Maria stalling her a moment longer. She'd say hello as they left, and let her meet Maras and Silky. That would make up for the disruption.

*****

Chapter 33

Carmen looked around her standard single dwelling unit as she removed what she hoped was the last serving of dessert Maras would need from the cater unit. The unit was getting low on choice, actually it was just plain approaching empty. The room would be less crowded if she merited a high status apartment, but she didn't. Hers was adequate, and she had made the most of the cramped space with light soft gray walls and a minimum number of carefully chosen pieces of furniture in wine and charcoal for a minimalist look she knew was badly marred by Blinky's toys. She was naturally tidy too, which helped. But the dwelling was never meant for entertaining two large men, a toddler, and two pups. If she'd known Little Al was a child, not a pet, she would have bought a toy on the way home so he didn't chew on Blinky's toys. Carmen decided not to waste energy worrying about that. After all, the child been chewing on Blinky too, and Silky, and Jellybean. Larr hadn't stopped him.

"Here you go, Maras. These meringues have nice nuts in them." Maras had immediately claimed the wine-colored two person love seat, and unless she intended to get rather intimate with him, it was his for the night. There definitely wasn't room for both Larr and Maras on it, so she had insisted Larr take the other upholstered furniture, a chair.

"Looks good." He took the plate.

Them should stick to his teeth real good. This were real nice Maras thought as he stretched and belched to make room for the meringues. It were just like visiting friends back on Terra. Carmen had a real nice place too. It were bigger than his brother Reg's and all the stuff was real good. This sofa were just right. Soft, but still springy so you didn't sink way down to the floor when you were his weight. Reg's was so sprung and lumpy it were better to just plain sit on the floor. It looked like Carmen even had a separate bedroom so she didn't have to make up the couch to sleep each night. She were doing real good for herself.

"Great." That took care of Maras. "Larr, are you sure you don't want anything more?"

Larr had seemed more concerned with feeding Al than himself, and Carmen rather expected he intended to eat again back in his room. She didn't take that as a slight on her hospitality. It was just that Al was at an age where feeding him somewhere other than in a bathtub, so you could wash the mess off as you went, was a challenge requiring full concentration. But there was a little bit of food left in the cater unit if Larr wasn't fussy. With Al asleep he could eat now.

"I'm fine, but thanks," Larr said and also stretched now that Al wasn't on his lap. "Maras get your feet out of the way!"

"Huh?" Maras didn't know his feet was in the way. He was completely happy being squished together like this, sprawling, and taking up all the space. Obligingly he moved them a centimeter.

"Forget it."

Larr took a direct solution. He rotated sideways in the chair, propping his legs over the low arm. They blocked the entrance door, but at least Maras wasn't kicking him every two minutes or so. And since the chair was in a corner he could lean on a wall. Galaxy he was tired!

"Oh, Larr, let me get you a cushion to be more comfortable." Carmen wished she had more to offer for his comfort, but that was all she had. Well, Maras, I'm going to disturb you. She squared her shoulders and braved removing one of the large throw pillows Maras wasn't leaning on too much.

"Here you go, Larr."

"Thanks." He shoved it behind himself, leaned back, and shut his eyes. Just for a moment. He was so tired.

Carmen returned to her seat, one of the simple eating area chairs. What should she do next as hostess? Or did she have to do anything besides think of things for Maras to eat? Larr looked like he would be asleep in a minute or two. No wonder between practices, playing the Octagla games, and Little Al. Little Al looked so sweet asleep in a pile with Blinky, Silky, and Jellybean, but that was only because he was asleep. That child was all energy. At least he and the animals got along! They had chased each other enough at the first, but it was only a game. No one had been bit or scratched. She let herself savor a moment of stillness with eyes half shut.

"Carmen, you says Silky can't eat with us in a restaurant." Maras asked after the third meringue.

"That's right." She had better put a fast end to that idea. Maras would be capable of a nasty scene.

"Got to feed her right." Maras looked with affection at the sleeping pup. "And it says on the hyperweb got to feed her different at different times when she's growin'. They got lots of food on space stations? Or do I got to order on the web and take it with us?"

That was going to be the most spoiled dog in the universe, Larr thought. Without opening his eyes he listened to Carmen seriously explaining to Maras some of the pitfalls of buying pet food on a space station. Bone tired he kept losing focus though. He had never trained like this during playoffs. He and Tedia had so much to learn. But he was confident too. The extra practice today had gone well ... all that hard work was paying off. The whole team was doing extra too ... they'd be good tomorrow, better than they had been for a long while.

Was that why he had this strange feeling of peace and contentment? Larr had to go a long, long way back to find echoes of something similar. Way back, before he entered his teens and he and Rall decided they didn't particularly like each other so life at home had become difficult. Or was that it? That he and Rall had somehow made peace with each other?

No. That answer came instant and firm. They had a working truce, and that was a distinct improvement. But they were too different, or maybe too similar to ever get along. That was interesting ... he had never thought of himself as being like Rall. But he was, wasn't he? He wanted to be the best. He just never thought it possible no matter how hard he tried. Even that thought didn't shatter Larr's sense of relaxed content. Maybe it had something to do with being here at Carmen's. It seemed like she didn't expect a single thing of him. His simply being here was good enough for her.

This not particularly ambitious attempt at self analysis was interrupted by a noise from the corner where Little Al, Jellybean, Silky, and Blinky were still asleep in a heap. Little Al was making the whimpering sound he did when he was having bad dreams. Larr rotated in the chair and got up, evening things out by stepping on Maras in the process.

"It's all right Little Al." Larr picked up his son, stroking the damp curls. "It's all right." Then turning, "Maras. For once get your damned feet out of the way! I don't want to trip and wake Little Al up."

Mildly surprised because he didn't think his feet was in the way this time either, Maras obliged.

"You gonna sit sideways again?"

"That's right. Little Al likes to sleep on my chest."

"Then you stretch out here on the couch." Maras stood, holding his hands out for Little Al. "I'll hold him while you get settled."

Larr hesitated.

"I held lots of babies," Maras said patiently.

Larr released his son and stretched out on the love seat. He still didn't all fit, but it was less of a jackknife position. With surprising gentleness Maras put Little Al on top of him.

"He's kind of kicking an' crying. He got bad dreams?" Maras asked solicitously.

"Yeah."

*****

Chapter 34

Larr's mind shifted back to his first night caring for Little Al. Custody had finally been transferred to him from Orchid, or more accurately the nanny she had hired. Getting custody had seemed like an eternity but in reality had been three weeks. And his luck had been good, there had been a schedule break for a fast trip home. He'd come on planet to find his parents waiting at the spaceport with Little Al.

"You got yourself a son. Raise him yourself." Rall thrust Little Al, who needed changing, into Larr's arms.

Right, before even hello. Larr knew that condemning look. His mother wasn't looking at him but he had no idea if that meant she agreed, or if it was because she never fought Rall. Fine, if that was the way it was, that was the way it was. He gave Rall a curt nod.

"I'll get what I need on the way to my place." 'My place' was the bachelor flat he had moved into when Orchid announced she wanted to separate. He didn't even know if the building allowed children. He'd never seen any kids around the rare times he used the flat and he hadn't bothered to read the lease.

"Come on Little Al, I'll change you." At least he hoped he could. Larr looked imploringly at Ingar.

"Here's his changing bag. I think I saw a changing station down the hall." Rall, you really aren't doing this right. Once she handed over the bag, Ingar leaned in to kiss her son. "Call if you have problems," she said in a whisper. Then audibly, "Little Al is a good boy, really."

Rall took her arm, and Larr watched them walk out of VIP arrivals. His chest was feeling not exactly wet, but damp and Little Al was starting to squirm and cry. Changing station down the hall ... well, he couldn't see it. He turned to a spaceport employee. "Changing station?"

She smiled at the infant, not Larr. The baby was so cute, and so young. "We have one here off the lounge. It will be less busy. Just over here. Let me know if you need anything. I'm Marsha."

"Thanks," Larr said automatically as he looked around trying to identify everything he'd seen in those holos about changing babies. It looked about right. First he'd better see what was in the bag Ingar had put over his forearm. Correct that. First he'd better put Little Al down on that table over there. That kid could squirm.

"No, Little Al. Don't cry! I can't keep holding you right now."

Larr gave his son a gentle caresses like they said you should. So much for that. Clenching his jaw at the screams, Larr swung the bag up and opened it. Diapers were on top. One win. Okay, first you took the wet one off. That went well. Little Al seemed to be agreeing that getting the wet stinky diaper off was a good move. Mmm. Diaper wipe time for Little Al's bottom. That used diaper wasn't just wet and now Little Al was squirming. Larr judged how far Little Al could fall while he dug in the bag, tried to tell himself he would pick the kid up naked and dirty, then saw the dispenser. Bless someone at the airport! Well, let's try it.

"Little Al, stop kicking me!" How the hell did you get hold of this kid?

It was taking a lot of time in there, and the baby was crying again. Marsha hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but Rall had been speaking loudly. And she'd see the panicked look Larr gave his mother. She hesitated then approached the door.

"Larr, it's Marsha. I have a four year old, a six year old, and a seven year old. If you need help, I might know some tricks you don't know."

"Thanks. Let yourself in. I'm afraid he'll squirm onto the floor." Larr tried to steady his grip on Little Al. Thanks kid, scream louder. She'll think I'm hurting you.

"Oh, you are having fun, aren't you?" Marsha asked the baby as she walked in.

Fun? He watched Little Al's focus shift to the newcomer.

"Here, let go." Turning to Larr, "What's his name?"

"Little Al." Larr wanted to just lean on a wall and shut his eyes, but he'd better watch.

"Well, Little Al, you think this is exercise time, don't you?"

He watched Marsha pet Little Al like they said, and yup, he stopped screaming but not kicking. Maybe those legs movements were baby aerobics. He watched the deft clean up, the diapering.

"Can I hold him for a minute as a reward?"

"Sure." And of course Little Al gurgled, and leaned into her with pleasure. Those parenting videos were about as much use as trying to play Octagla only having watched games. He shrugged. Well, he would just have to keep trying and hope Little Al would be patient. That was in the not a chance zone. One thing was for sure. There was no way he was shopping on the way home. He'd have to find some store in the city on the hyperweb who was happy to send things immediately for a small fortune.

"Here you go then." Marsha offered Little Al back. "Thanks for letting me hold him."

Larr took Little Al, waiting for embarrassing cries. All that happened was Little Al gave a resigned sound that was half sob, half sigh.

***

Larr bent quietly over the crib in his bedroom. Yes, Little Al was finally asleep, from sheer exhaustion he expected. That was a relief because another ten minutes and he would have risked Rall's wrath and begged his mother come over for the night. He watched the simple breath in, breath out of Little Al, his child. He had never done that before, just watched this little life. So Little Al, what do we do now?

Little Al had definitely not seen any of those parenting courses he had watched when he wasn't playing or practicing. And Little Al was not a good baby. He cried and fussed and Larr did not for a minute believe the little guy was just exercising or having fun. Little Al had let him know in no uncertain terms that he didn't like this clumsy stranger who didn't know how to feed, change, or bathe him. He didn't like the strange surroundings. He didn't like the bed that had been delivered and assembled. He didn't like the formula he was fed, although the store had assured him it was the same as in Ingar's bag.

Well, he might as well go to sleep too. Larr was as exhausted as Little Al. The baby monitor was working, so he could have a fast shower before sacking out.

What was that noise? Larr surfaced, aware of a totally different kind of crying, soft plaintive sobs that broke his heart. He knew exactly how Little Al felt. He felt the same every time he woke up the middle of the night and realized Orchid would never be lying there beside him again.

"It's okay, Little Al. It's okay," Larr said sitting up.

Groggy he rose and picked up Little Al. This time Little Al didn't fight. He clung as best he could to this strange presence. Larr walked with him, telling him all the things he had known would be a waste of breath to tell Orchid, like how wonderful it was to have a son.

At last Little Al stopped crying, and Larr put him down in his crib. Immediately a sort of resigned, sad mewing started and Larr wondered how often in his short life Little Al had been left to cry himself to sleep. All the time Little Al had been in Orchid's care, Larr suspected. And now? What kind of parents were Ingar and Rall? Had he cried himself to sleep? Larr couldn't imagine Rall walking a baby in the middle of the night. Would Ingar have dared leave her husband to comfort him? Well, Little Al wouldn't cry himself to sleep when he was around.

"Come here, Little Al."

Larr picked up his son and headed for bed. He knew he wouldn't dare sleep for fear of rolling on the child, but at least Little Al might. It took less than five minutes to learn the only place Little Al was happy was on his chest, where he could hear his heart and feel him breathing.

***

How long had he slept? Larr opened an eye to mid morning sunshine to find a wide awake, very wet baby apparently totally content to lay on his chest all day. Since then he and Little Al had been best friends.

*****

Chapter 35

Just what did 'yeah' mean in that tone of voice, Carmen wondered looking at Larr. He looked tireder than Little Al did, and she expected he'd be asleep soon himself. She knew she should encourage Larr and Maras to go, but she wanted the evening to last. It was one she would remember all her life.

"Larr, you can't be comfortable there."

She was politely suggesting they leave, Larr realized, but he didn't want to go. He wanted this peace and contentment to last a little longer, just a little longer.

"I'm fine."

"You are not. You'll be stiff and sore, and I'll never forgive myself if that affects your game. Stretch out on my bed."

"I can't do that."

"Of course you can. I'll just go make sure the room is tidy."

Carmen rose, effectively settling the issue. She went into her bedroom and looked around, but it was all in order. No stray clothes, no makeup. The two personal objects were an image of her parents standing on their balcony planetside, and a potted plant that received almost as much care as Blinky did. That should be fine then. Then she caught her image in the mirror. She was a mess! Carmen took a moment to run a brush through her hair, not that it did much good. Even if she'd spent the afternoon at the beautician she wouldn't look remotely like Maras's beautiful new girlfriend, and no doubt Little Al's mother was just as lovely. Then, as an afterthought, Carmen got a throw out of the cupboard and spread it on the bed. Larr and Little Al would sleep better warm.

***

"There. They're all settled." That had been amusing, tucking a rather embarrassed Larr under the throw with Little Al on his chest.

They was gonna sleep a while Maras figured, probably to curfew. Larr were pushing himself hard to keep up with Tedia. "I thought maybe we could watch a holodrama."

"That's a good idea," Carmen agreed. She'd been running out of pet stories to tell Maras. "Would you like something to snack on while you watch?"

"That would be good," Maras agreed contentedly. Carmen were as nice a lady as he thought she'd be.

"Why don't you pick out a drama while I get us something to eat." At least this would be depleting a different part of her cater unit, so there should be enough. Carmen had a weakness for snacks and kept that sort of thing well stocked.

When she returned all of the ten steps or so, Maras announced, "I found three real good ones. What do ya think?"

Carmen's reaction to the selection was pretty much like Cailla's. She was sure she'd hate every minute of any of them. "Won't they be rather loud – wake Little Al? That door isn't very soundproof."

Maras hadn't thought of that. He scowled, thinking. It kind of spoiled them playing the sound quiet.

Carmen was thinking too, fast. Maras was not particularly like he was presented by the media. She'd seen him play for a lot of teams, and he could be mean and tough. But he obviously adored Little Al and the pups and had infinite patience with them. She was also coming to suspect he wasn't just taciturn, he was, well, a little simple. Like her one nephew. That thought helped. Of course. She brought up her nephew's favorite selection. He would happily watch it two or three times in a row.

"What about this one Maras? It's about a dog that gets separated from the family on vacation and has to find its way home to them across a continent. It's set on Kytherial too, which makes it interesting because you don't see Kytherial much." The story was perennial – there had been versions no doubt for centuries, but this one really was good.

Maras perked up. "Roban's from Kytherial, and maybe my brother will go there." Maras had been working on Klese.

"Really? Let's watch it then."

***

That were a real good holodrama, Maras decided. The doggie sure was smart, and real determined to get back to the little girl what owned him. He wondered if Silky could do something like that when she got bigger if she got lost. Realistically he decided she probably wouldn't even try. She'd probably settle in and stay with the first people that was kind to her, and get fat and lazy because they wouldn't make her work out. Maybe she'd miss him though.

And Kytherial were really something. Roban never showed around images from home, so Maras had started watching the holodrama with not much of an idea what the place was like. But he were going to get Klese to watch it. Then he'd get excited about going for sure. There was bushes and trees in funny shades of red and wine all summer long, not just in the autumn. And icy mountains. And huge deserts. And those big catty sort of things that tried to make the poor doggie lunch was really scary. Maybe they liked to lunch on people too. Maybe them was what went for Roban and scarred up his leg. That would help keep life exciting. Yup. It looked like a good place. He'd really like visiting Klese there.

Maras look at his cuff. Curfew were in about forty minutes. "You want me to wake Larr up? He's gonna sleep till someone shakes him."

"Let him rest. He looked so tired." Carmen had spent the closing credits trying to think of something to do with Maras now. "Are you a card player?"

Maras gave Carmen a rather uncomfortable look. That was a question he didn't much like. Cards was good. He liked to play the computer, because it didn't care how long you took working your move out. But people was different. They made him edgy, then he hurried and got took to the cleaners. But Carmen were a nice lady. Would she do that?

***

Larr woke to the sound of his wrist-cuff alarm and the weight of Little Al sleeping on him. Boy, had he sacked out, he thought groggily and fell asleep again. The next alarm was three minutes later and louder. Early on he had learned that the simple expedient of being in your room when the coach called at curfew went a long way towards keeping the coach off your back. This time he got near enough to the surface to realize he was in a strange bed. This in itself was normal. He'd spent most of his adult life sleeping and waking in strange portel beds. But some instinct told him this wasn't another portel bed. It was a woman's bed. Opening one eye a slit he saw the top of Al's head and a pretty pink blanket. Definitely a woman's bed. But whose? A conscious effort on his part brought a face, but no name. Maras's new friend. That was right. She'd insisted he stretch out with Little Al.

Right now he wasn't sure if he thanked her or not. He felt lousy. Well, feeling lousy or not, they had to get back to the portel. "Little Al, you awake?" Larr couldn't imagine he was asleep after that last alarm.

"Yah."

That sounded wide-awake, like he'd just been lying there waiting for his dad to wake up.

"Well, we've got to get moving. Off you go." Larr moved his son and sat up.

"Play 'ky," Al announced.

"Blinky is cute, isn't he?" Larr agreed. "But I'm sorry Al. I have to be back at the portel before Isley calls. So it will have to be another time."

Larr waited for the pout and the scene, but Little Al just grinned.

"'kay."

"That's my boy." Larr messed Al's hair. "Let's go see what Maras has been up to." This time a name attached itself to the woman. Carmen. How in the galaxy had Carmen been entertaining Maras while he slept this long?

***

Maras looked up at Larr as he walked in and raised a hand of cards with a complacent look on his face. "We been playing cards. I'm doing good too." His pile of markers was twice the size of Carmen's.

"He's having all the luck," Carmen said. She had been quite happy to let Maras laboriously work out each hand. He obviously had quite a memory and tried to remember all the cards played. She just let herself rest. She was starting to feel the day.

Larr looked at the fatigue on her face, and the disaster zone that had been a very tidy apartment when they walked in. Obviously Maras was focused on the game and had never thought of offering to help clean up. Well, he had about eight minutes before they absolutely had to leave for the portel if they race waked. He'd see what he could do in that time.

"Maras and I will miss curfew if we don't go in five minutes or so. Why don't you play out your hand while I pick up."

"Larr," Carmen said with embarrassment, "I can't let you do that."

"I already am," Larr said with both hands full of plates. "And I'm kitchen trained. I know what goes in the disposal unit and what in the sanitizer. Little Al, get out from under foot!"

***

Well, it wasn't perfect, but it was better. And they really did have to go. Larr rinsed his hands, wiped them on a towel, and bent to pick up Little Al. Little Al grabbed onto Blinky and held on.

"Little Al, let go!"

"Nah!" This was a good game.

"Another time, Little Al. I mean it."

Little Al knew that tone and let go of Blinky.

"Good boy." Larr lifted his son. "Heel, Jellybean" He turned to his hostess. "Thank you, Carmen, for a really hospitable evening. I enjoyed it."

Larr looked at Maras who was standing there holding Silky. He got Maras's best brick wall stare. Hell, didn't the man realize this level of hospitality required reciprocation? Apparently not. Well, he'd give Maras the lecture on manners in private, not that it would do any good.

"Carmen, the least we can do is have you be our guest at the game tomorrow. I'll arrange for you to have a ticket to the team box. My parents will be there with Little Al, so you'll at least know Little Al." He ruffled Little Al's hair. "You'll take care of Carmen, won't you?"

"Yeah." Little Al squirmed, holding his arms out to his new friend.

Rather surprised, Carmen took him from Larr and got a sloppy kiss from Little Al.

" 'ar." Little Al gave his new friend a hug.

Carmen hadn't expected anything like the invitation – or Little Al's kiss.

"Thank you Larr," she said, her voice slightly muffled in Little Al's curls. "But I had bad luck – I ended up with the shift that's the same time as the game." Which was just as well, because Larr had to be just being polite. All the same, that would have been something, watching a playoff game from the Tamara box.

Maras was still standing there like a lump, after he'd probably emptied the poor woman's cater unit. Larr wondered if the residents were in any way rationed. At any rate, they owed her hospitality and a good meal.

"The next game then. And let me," he didn't dare include Maras because Maras could be out of the shower in five minutes, or sit and meditate for an hour before even thinking about a shower, "take you for something to eat after. My mom can babysit." Please may it be one of Big Luis' parties. They were all determined the series would not go back to Pendrae, so it should be the last game. But Larr didn't want to bring bad luck.

"Oh Larr." Carmen's eyes were huge. "I couldn't impose like that. It would be something to get a ticket in the team box, because I've always wanted to see inside a luxury box. But surely someone else must want that seat. And you must have other plans for after the game." It could well be the final game. Then there would be one of Big Luis's parties.

A real nice lady, Maras thought. This was going real, real good. He kept his mouth firmly shut and gave Silky a pet.

Carmen meant the refusal, but she couldn't quite keep the wistfulness out of her face and voice. Of course Larr was just being nice. You could tell he was very well bred, with excellent manners. She envied Little Al's mother and wished she had dared ask about her. But she must have health problems. That was the only reason Carmen could think of for not coming to possibly the final game with the rest of Larr's family and it wouldn't do to talk of them in front of Little Al. He was young but he understood quite a bit. Still, that would really be something, to go to the game, and then maybe one of Big Luis's parties. Now that she knew Maras and Larr she wouldn't feel so much like she was a gatecrasher.

Larr saw and heard the wistfulness. "I insist, and," he added with the best smile he could manage half-asleep and still feeling lousy, "you'll get me in trouble with Isley if you keep me arguing." He held out his arms for Little Al. "I'll be tied up tomorrow so I'll arrange for a ticket to the game after next when I get to the portel tonight. Heel Jellybean."

***

As soon as they were far enough from the apartment to give Maras a piece of his mind without one of Carmen's immediate neighbors overhearing and repeating it all to her, Larr turned on him.

"Maras. Just what you think you were doing just standing there like that?"

The smile on Maras's face was very self-satisfied, almost smug. "You done real good, asking her out. She's a real nice lady Larr and Little Al here likes her," he added meaningfully.

Larr stared, still tired and cranky. "Maras! Are you telling me that was a setup job?"

"Yup." It went real good too. That had Maras almost as happy as the winning at cards.

"Well I'm telling you I don't need help finding women!"

Maras looked at Little Al, now wide-awake and bright eyed, looking at everything they passed. "Yeah? I don't see where you done great on your own."

Larr was about to let Maras know exactly what he thought of that when he remembered Little Al. He settled for a glare which Maras ignored.

*****

Chapter 36

They were ready. Isley slowly ran his eyes around the dressing room, pausing to really see each player. The light team practice had gone well with just enough screw ups that they'd be good tonight. Isley firmly believed a flawless practice was a jinx. The extra practice with the roof runners showed they needed time, but the line was gelling fast. They would be ready for the next series.

The job tonight was to win another easy game before Menzaille was rested up from his shutout. It should not be a problem, so he would rest his key players as much as he could...

"Rundell, rest your wrist until late in the game. Marco, you sub. Red, you're center."

Yeah, because it's a soft game, Red thought bitterly. As if Isley had read his mind, Red found himself looking into the coach's eyes.

"Push them as hard as you can – see if we can break Menzaille this first period."

Isley shifted his gaze to the rest of the room with a challenging smile. "Nine goals first period should make up for that shutout to the home crowd!"

Red nodded, suddenly important and excited. Break Menzaille, fast. He'd score half of those goals and be the hero.

"Let's go then!" Isley said.

***

Red took the face-off on a rush of adrenaline and they headed into the Suns' end, with Larr keeping him company well ahead of the play. Red wanted to lead the move in, but Ertwaine and Anhiorl were on top of him not letting it happen. He passed to Larr.

Well, Warkiza, how hard are you covering me? Larr squinted, assessing his opponent. Warkiza was very cautious of Tedia now which might help. Tedia must have read his mind, because he put on a burst of jets, obviously positioning himself for a pass and a clear shot. Warkiza hedged his bets, moving just far enough to accidentally be a screen for a second. Larr didn't hesitate. He took the shot - and watched Menzaille catch it easily and pass to Valskoa. Menzaille shouldn't have even seen it coming! Larr delayed a second to get a good look at those eyes, dreamy, somewhere not in the Octagla court. The look they'd seen for the entire shutout. Hell! Well, not tonight Menzaille! Larr pivoted to follow the play.

***

Daron and Torin looked at each other across Joran's living room.

"Trouble?" Joran asked.

"Trouble," Torin confirmed. "Menzaille is going for another shutout."

"I thought you said he'd be crap for a couple games."

Daron shrugged. "He should be."

"I want him!"

"You do not!" Torin said.

Joran noticed Daron was just looking thoughtful and chewing his lip. He watched a little longer to see just how stable Daron was looking.

***

At last! Mikey managed a solid save, not just a deflection, and smothered the ball. That last scramble around the net had been crazy. Now guys, move the play into the other end for a while and give me a breather. I must have stopped a dozen shots! Well, actually six he acknowledged , but it felt like a dozen.

Red took his position focused, ready for any tricks Anhiorl might try. The ball was released. Nice try Anhiorl, but not this time. Red took the face-off and headed towards the Suns' end. Woof! He lost his breath and the ball from a crosscheck to his ribs. Whoever it was was in his blind spot, and he wasn't going to lose focus looking. It was due to be Parnilsak. He was the only one that dirty. What? No call? Fine! They'd settle that hit later since it wasn't being called. But right now where is that damned ball? There it is! Ertwaine and Mercan should get there at the same time, three quarters of the way to the roof. Move it, Mercan! We've got to get down the court!

Mercan did, but Ertwaine had the advantage of being the bigger man, and having the longer reach. He rolled away from Mercan's try at a stick check, releasing a shot mid roll. That was a risky long shot, but it went in.

1 – 0 for the Suns.

***

"Red, to the bench. Gengo, you're going in."

Right. I'm playing the best game I ever have and I get pulled just because Mercan screws up.

"Gengo. Watch Parnilsak. I can't have both the centers out." Isley watched the total confusion on Red's face. The guy was so intent he was screening pain. Well, Isley had to admit he wouldn't have been worried about the hit either except for the warning on the private channel from Big Luis who had been at the right angle to see it.

"Red. Doc needs to scan you. There's a chance that hit was low – soft tissue bleeding and damage to an organ. Can you tell by feel?"

Dazed, Red shook his head.

"Well, get the scans over with." Isley hesitated then gripped Red's shoulder. "That's rough luck. You're having your best game ever."

***

"Did you see that hit?" Daron demanded of Torin. He sat more erect in his chair and held his hand out to Joran for the remote to get a a better look.

"Hit yes, what Isley is worried about, no."

"It was low – could have been below the ribs," Mai said. "A lot of Red's height is upper trunk, so he has quite an exposed area."

Daron made a face. He still overreacted to injuries. He took the remote and watched the play from another angle. Mai was right. Daron gave the remote back to Joran and gulped some of his medication-laced beer. He would never be a coach if he got upset this easily.

"And here comes the retribution," Chan said as Greg jetted out to replace Marco.

"Greg and Marco are good," Joran observed. "Why are they just subs?"

"They aren't this playoff," Chan volunteered. All faces turned to him. Was that supposed to be confidential? Well, it was too late now. "Isley signed them for the series."

"Looking for the magic..." Torin said softly, shutting his eyes, going back to the past for a moment. Magic. He opened them again to see Joran looking at him.

Joran asked a question with his eyes, but obviously wasn't going to get an answer. Instead he asked, "Back to my question. Why haven't they been Galactic pros all along?"

Torin wobbled a hand. How did you explain that extra edge?

"Why isn't Bernie a solo star, instead of singing harmony with you?" Daron asked, sinking back into the conforming softness of his chair and resting his head. "Can you quantify it?"

No, he couldn't. But he knew what Daron meant.

***

Before Greg took his position, he stopped and deliberately caught Parnilsak's eyes. His face was expressionless as he held those eyes, waiting to see who looked away first. It was Parnilsak who shifted focus to the face-off. Good, we understand each other. He stayed motionless a little longer, then headed to his spot opposite Valskoa

So I blew a call. Bourara had watched Red and Doc heading for the dressing room. Delaying the face-off, he turned to glare first at Parnilsak, then Greg. This was not going to deteriorate into the next brawl if he could help it.

***

"How is it?" Red asked. The adrenaline was wearing off and he hurt.

"Severe bruising. I'm starting to see swelling but the scans show no organ bleeding. Just a small hairline fracture on the bottom rib. I'd like to keep that bruising controlled. Will you wear a cold pack and let me swap it out every ten minutes?" Some players flatly refused, said it broke their concentration. Red's answer varied with his mood.

Red slid off the table and tried to hide a wince as the throbbing settled to a deep ache. "Sure. And bind me tight." He was getting back in the game and giving one hundred percent.

***

"Nice save Mikey!" Too bad he wasn't having a shut out like Menzaille. Mercan forced that thought out of his mind as he caught the rebound, absentmindedly elbowing Ertwaine in the process. This shut out was not going to last! The Suns were up 3-0 with 2:15 left in the period, and it simply was not going to stay that way. Mercan cut towards the wall, tempting Valskoa to try for the ball. That's right. Be greedy. Keep coming.

Just as Valskoa was close enough to try a stick check for the ball, Mercan passed off to Gengo who had just replaced a pain exhausted Red. Valskoa got Mercan's hand instead, but not hard enough to break anything. Move it Gengo. Get our first goal of the game.

Valskoa was inclined to rough things up for being robbed of the ball. Fine, that suited him. Mercan's hand was throbbing despite the protective glove.

"Don't even think it, Mercan" came Greg's murmur over the team channel "He's mine, remember?"

"Spoil sport!" But Mercan dodged Valskoa, just giving him a kick to the shoulder. Greg would settle the score with Valskoa later. And with Parnilsak. And ... hell this was getting to be a dirty game. Mercan forced himself to focus. Right now, they needed a goal to break Menzaille.

Gengo headed in, Larr and Tedia keeping pace with him, and Mercan catching up fast. Greg seemed to have settled for keeping Valskoa occupied. Good. Valskoa was always dangerous. Keep him out of the play. Gengo pressed forward.

No. It wasn't going to work. Parnilsak was moving in to help out Anhiorl, and Gengo had no intention of getting badly roughed up this early in the game. At least not when Parnilsak was giving Tedia a clear chance. He passed off.

Señor Kip, you are agile. Just how agile are you? Tedia headed up, then angled back down to Kip's side. There was just one spot where Kip could cover both him and Mercan, and Kip wasn't in that spot. Kip looked undecided and confused by his working the wrong side. Tedia didn't give him time to make up his mind what to do. He shot, with that fluid twisting motion that Cailla wished she could do. Robbed! Tedia watched as Menzaille managed a deflection.

Mercan caught the rebound and shot, hard, lower right where Menzaille should be out of position for. How the hell did he get that, much less seat it in his net for a pass? Mercan watched resignedly as Menzaille passed up court. To Valskoa of course. Damn!

Greg back jetted hard, jarring his spine, and heard over the team intercom exactly what Big Luis thought of this development. But Valskoa wasn't the league's second top scorer for nothing. And Greg had a painful reminder he was just planetary pro as Valskoa slipped past him and shot.

The goal was just plain luck, off the goalpost, but luck counts. The buzzer sounded. 4-0

***

Robbed! Mercan stared in disbelief as Menzaille smothered the ball – again. They were not going to make up what was now a four goal deficit at this rate. His mind flatly refused to accept they were going to get shut out twice... But there was something in those eyes ...

Damn! Anhiorl got the face-off. Mercan couldn't fault Red. He was playing well for a fractured rib. But Isley should have kept Gengo in! To him it looked like Isley didn't want Gengo in rough stuff, and this game was getting rougher by the minute, despite Bourara starting to call almost every move. Good thing Bourara gave both Parnilsak and Greg five when they started going at it, or he'd have got that bench clearer he was afraid of. Parnilsak deserved everything Greg gave him!

Mercan jetted into the Tamara end at maximum velocity, taking his position in the defensive block. Greg should be coming out of the penalty box in five – four – three – two – one. What?! Isley was sending Tedia in to get killed? They needed the kid for the roof.

That's right Valskoa. Crowd over towards me because I'm near Anhiorl and you want a first period goal. Mikey was doing great on Valskoa tonight. Keep coming. Keep coming.

"Don't even think it." Roban's voice from the bench was calm but firm. Mercan would take ten.

"Spoilsport." But Mercan dropped his stick a millimeter or so.

"And here comes Valskoa. Thinks he's a superstar," Big Luis started one of his commentaries. "It's Ertwaine who's having a good night though. And watch him, Mercan. He's hanging back and too low for my liking." Yes, that was where the pass went. Big Luis adjusted down, and watched Valskoa heading up. "Keep on him, Mercan! Oh. Marco, you want Valskoa too? That's good. Nice move, Marco!" Valskoa's thigh would ache for a week.

It was getting too crowded over here, Ertwaine decided. Let's see how Maras and Larr handled some pressure. As far as Ertwaine could tell, the new player Tedia was strictly offense. So distract Larr and Maras, and Parnilsak would have a chance. He passed to Pelfran, who seemed to see it the same way.

Pelfran headed for the wall, drawing Larr, but not Maras. Too bad. Well, time to see what happens. Pelfran passed to Parnilsak. At least he meant to. How did Tedia get that pass? And how the hell did Bourara miss that butt end? Sneaky kid!

Tedia headed for the Suns' end full jets and ahead of the play. On a diving roll, he shot just before Warkiza connected. Tedia watched wide eyed as Menzaille got a piece of the partly screened shot he shouldn't have had a chance on. That goalie was incredible.

In the scramble Larr got the deflected ball, used Warkiza as a screen and shot. Another save that shouldn't have happened did. As Menzaille smothered the ball the buzzer sounded ending the first period.

4 – 0 for the Pendrae Suns.

***

Carmen forced herself to turn the game off and focus on the work sitting untouched at her desk. She did not need to watch the Pendrae Suns gloating in the between periods show. Biting her lip she looked at the spreadsheet then turned it off again. Poor Larr. Poor Maras. She couldn't work. She needed to be at home where she could give Blinky a good cuddle, then eat a big bowl of ice cream.

This would never do. She was being irresponsible and she intended to put in full active time, even if it meant staying a couple extra hours and not claiming them. Carmen re-opened the file. It had been flagged as a routine audit because the factory had inflated some deductions in the past. In a singularly foul mood she started to look for any irregularities the software might have missed.

*****

Chapter 37

Menzaille was always lousy for several games after a shutout, so what the hell got into the guy tonight, Isley asked himself as he looked around the dressing room. Sure, he'd had the trip to rest, but that shouldn't have been enough. This time tension was not palpable in the room, depression was. They were not going to take the Galactic Championship. They were going to be eliminated in the semifinals, to be the team Menzaille got not one but two shutouts against. You could see it in each face, in the way the team was slumped against the wall.

Larr slowly scanned the room, surveying his teammates as he took a swig of citrus electrolyte blend. What the hell were they doing? Just letting Menzaille win? Abruptly he stood, shoulders set. It was a look the galaxy's Octagla fans had seen a lot of in his first year when he fought the entire league.

"I'm going to run roof. See if I can throw Menzaille off balance, break the shutout. He's got to be tired, going on nerves and willpower."

"You and Tedia and Gengo aren't ready."

Isley spoke for Rall. It was so tempting. They were looking better each practice and would be used as soon as they were ready. But they still didn't quite function as a line on the roof. He'd lose Rall's support. But if Menzaille did not collapse in the second period? Maybe it was time to bring Rall down to the dressing room, get his advice. The Suns knew he was here like he had been on Pendrae. But for now he was 'family' in the team box. Bringing him down would telegraph that roof running was going to start. But still...

"Not Tedia and Gengo and me. We need more practice. And I know you don't want to use that surprise early, when we aren't ready." Larr's chin came up. "I mean me. Solo. They have to be expecting it after the Celebrity game. So, let's see how they handle it. See how far we have to push Menzaille to break him."

Isley could feel the stir of excitement in the room. He looked at Larr for a long moment. This was a very different man from a few weeks ago. Their eyes held, then Isley nodded.

"Do it. Push him. Hard."

***

"They will roof run."

Menzaille's voice startled Scimkla out of a reverie. Menzaille rarely spoke between periods. Never when he was going for a shut out.

"Are you ready?" Scimkla asked.

Menzaille nodded, and his eyes lost focus. Stopping a roof runner...

***

It was their top line, going all out. Gengo got the face-off and passed to Mercan who passed instantly to Rundell.

Doc had reapplied a neuroblock to Rundell's wrist, and at his insistence had frozen it too. He knew he'd pay, but what the hell. Rundell took the pass from Mercan with almost his normal comfort and dodged Valskoa. Try Valskoa, just try... He kept working in, drawing Kip away from center.

"Keep it right wing," Roban murmured as he watched Larr and Tedia move in too, only marginally higher than usual. Parnilsak was close to Tedia, starting to rough him up more than Roban liked with the memory of his shattered hand, but Tedia seemed indifferent. Pelfran was between Larr and the roof, Warkiza seemed undecided.

"Tedia, move down. Draw Warkiza."

Tedia abruptly shifted trajectory, giving Parnilsak a crosscheck to get him out of the way that wasn't quite dirty enough to be called. Warkiza was still undecided. Tedia kept going. He could still take a pass from Rundell this low. He watched Warkiza hesitate then move down. Tedia didn't bother to look for Parnilsak. He'd be coming in from behind, stick up.

The pass from Rundell came at that instant. Tedia snapped it on to Larr in one fluid motion, using that motion to start a roll. A roll that saved him as Parnilsak tried to ring his bell. As it was, the blow glanced harmlessly off his helmet. Tedia 'accidentally' planted a kick that just missed Parnilsak's groin.

Larr caught the pass, heart pounding. A burst of jets and he was on the roof. Two strides for balance, then shoot. There was no time to hesitate.

Before Larr had finished his second stride Menzaille flipped to balance on the goal crossbar like he'd practiced. He almost laughed at the stunned expression on Larr's face, and easily fielded the off-balance shot. Openly laughing once he had the save, he smothered the ball.

***

Maras doubled over laughing. He'd never seen anything so funny in an Octagla court.

"Shut up!" Larr warned him. He could still see the smirk on Menzaille's face.

Maras gave him a clout. "Trick were on you! But next time you'll score. He's tippy on the crossbar." Maras wobbled in imitation of Menzaille mimicking the funny wiggle Menzaille did when he started rotating back into the goal, then a jerk. He started to laugh again.

Larr couldn't help it. He was laughing too.

***

All right Menzaille. This time we both know what's happening. So let's see who's best. Larr took another stride, deked, changed trajectory and took a step off the roof. A burst of jets had him skimming the roof. He headed towards Warkiza who was actually up on the roof but looked like he might barf his lunch. Larr decided to help that disorientation out and angled himself, veering. Warkiza winced then made a token effort to use his stick, but Larr ignored him. His focus was on Menzaille.

The goalie was wobbling slightly without a flat floor surface to adhere to. He was obviously getting enough traction on the bar to not float, but not enough for normal balance, and he couldn't step forward and back. Good! Larr accelerated, tipped more until he was parallel to the roof at knee height then veered, forcing Menzaille to move. Okay! There was that wobble. Instantly Larr corrected, landing at a run on the roof. This was going to be a true roof running goal, feet on the roof. Menzaille tried to recover and almost lost his balance, almost started to float. Good! Larr took his shot. It went in upper left, or was it lower right, five cm from the floor. They were in the game!

"Where did you learn that go in sideways move?" Tedia demanded as he joined the pile congratulating Larr. He'd never seen Rall do that, or any of the roof runners.

"Improvisation." Larr grinned. That had been fun – better than the sense of speed motorcycle racing. He missed that, but there was a 'no racing' clause in his contract. Larr looked towards the team box, wary of disapproval for running the roof, for the weird move, but Rall's grin matched his and he got a thumbs up.

***

Oh, that was amazing! Carmen realized she'd been holding her breath as Larr took his shot and she let it out in a whoosh. She watched everyone pile on him. Maras looked as pleased as if he'd scored the goal. He really was rather sweet. When she'd seen that gorgeous blonde Cailla with him, she'd figured either the woman was crazy, masochistic, or out for the celebrity status. But now she could see why Cailla liked him.

Carmen shifted the view to see the team box. What did Little Al think of his dad being a hero? It still wasn't real that she would be there next game. She zoomed in a bit more. Oh, that must be Rall, Larr's father, looking so pleased. She'd found his image on the hyperweb earlier in the day. Rall and Larr looked a lot alike. She hadn't found an image of Larr's mother or spouse though. Maybe Little Al wasn't well and the women were with him. She did hope chewing on Blinky's toys hadn't made him ill.

Then Rall moved to talk to someone, and there was Little Al, in the arms of a tired looking blonde woman about Rall's age. Could that be Larr's mother? Larr did have blond hair. Anyways, Little Al was all excited. Whether or not he understood, who knew. But he was excited.

***

"All right!" Chan reached for a hand to slap without taking his eyes off the game and connected with Knett.

Knett grinned as he slapped back. One depressed patient out of the danger zone. Ranga still worried him though. If a hot babe like Elvira was having no effect there was serious depression.

"Where did he learn a move like that?" Daron demanded as he reached for his Mokra Lite. He hadn't realized how much he needed to be out of the clinic, and he'd always liked Joran's place with its vibrant turquoise and purple decor.

"Did you see the look on Rall's face?" Joran asked. "I think it was improvisation – Rall and Isley were both stunned."

*****

Chapter 38

Menzaille did not fold immediately. That happened nine minutes later when he let in a shot from Marco, the fourth goal in less than four minutes.

Marco savored the goal for a full half minute, the guys all congratulating and pounding him, then gave Tedia who was currently in front of him a shove.

"Help me get enough room to see the team box, hombre." As Tedia looked puzzled, he added, "Wife and kids."

Larr was close enough to hear. "Marco wants to wave to his wife!"

The body jam thinned out, grinning.

There she was, as cute as when they married twelve years ago, with her curly brown hair, round happy face, and the smile he loved. Right now, that smile said "You're wonderful, I love you!!"

Marco blew her a kiss, then shifted his attention to his nine-year-old son and six-year-old daughter. They only got to come up to the space station for special games, but they had their own weightless unitards and over them they were wearing jerseys with his name and number. His son realized he was looking and started to wave, and poked his sister.

With a grin Larr nudged Big Luis and between them they hoisted Marco up like he was a trophy, then helped wave at the kids.

"Enough!" Marco said laughing. This was so good. "We'll be called for holding up the game."

***

I will control my temper, Menzaille told himself watching Marco clowning around. Very carefully he turned, planted both feet on the floor, and took a swing at the goalpost that threatened to shatter his goal stick and set his arm stinging. It didn't do a damned bit of good. This was it! Valskoa had screened him one too many times. The man was dead meat.

Abruptly Menzaille turned and headed for the team's top scorer.

Spelling off Menzaille until he cooled down was Broygum's job. He was half way out of the box when something said this time the temper tantrum was different. Menzaille and Valskoa yelled at each other a lot, but they'd never come to blows. However Broygum had got an earful about what would happen if Valskoa screened him one more time, and Menzaille apparently had not accepted the advice to wait until winning the series was a sure thing, or better still the series was over.

Abruptly Broygum stopped and turned back to Scimkla.

"He means it this time!"

"Damn!" Scimkla grimaced. He'd count to ten later. Right now action was needed.

"Kip! Grab him!"

It was a good thing that Kip was fast. He grabbed Menzaille's arm as he was taking a vicious swing at the unsuspecting Valskoa.

Menzaille rounded on him. "Let go! You're my friend!"

"That's why I'm not letting go."

"You saw what he did!"

"Mm." Kip was noncommittal. Play had been pretty sloppy and he doubted Valskoa had done anything intentional, this time anyways.

"Let it pass." Broygum was in front of Menzaille. He made sure Menzaille was looking at him with those dark unfocussed eyes. "Remember? And I'll help!" He was also getting tired of Valskoa. There was a long moment, then Menzaille grinned.

"You're on."

"You can let go, Kip," Broygum said.

Kip was inclined to ask what that was about, then decided he really didn't want to know. If Valskoa wanted to live on borrowed time that was his problem. Cautiously he let go, but all that happened was that Menzaille headed for the bench, shoulders slumped.

***

"And now you say I told you so. Right?" Joran asked Torin and Daron.

"That depends on how negative an impact that has on terms of employment," Daron said with a teasing smile.

"None," Joran said. "You've heard the guys go at me in band practice. By the way, was that an implicit acceptance of the job offer?"

Daron's eyes widened and he bit his lip.

Say yes, Daron. Say yes, Knett mentally urged. Give yourself a chance.

"I – I think so. I mean we'll have to see what I can do – but yes!"

"Way to go!" Chan said.

Joran rose, hand outstretched. "Welcome aboard. Just promise to tell me – or Knett – anytime something over-stresses you."

Daron shook Joran's hand. "Like now?" Had he really just agreed to try coaching?

"Like now," Joran grinned and plopped down on the floor near Daron and put a reassuring arm around his legs. The tremor was pronounced, but Daron was still here, not heading for bed. Good for him.

"Um, Joran. Is this all secret – within this room – or can I text Elvira?" Daron just had to share his decision with her.

"Sure."

With shaking hands Daron pulled out his compad. He was going to try coaching! Elvira would be so pleased. Almost instantly he got her excited reply, and smiled as he turned it to Joran then Knett to read.

Joran turned to Torin. "By any chance is saying yes contagious?"

Torin looked at his sister and got an almost imperceptible nod from Mai. "I was waiting to tell you, but Trevarr has run a lot of stability tests. I think I'll be fine. We have about another week of tests though."

"A conditional yes," Joran said. "Let me know how it goes. Now, we'll miss the face-off." He realized that sounded flippant, but he'd seen a hint of fear in Torin's eyes. He knew that feeling from his own come back and he wouldn't crowd him. He would get there if left to his own speed.

***

"And another goalie gets pulled!" Knett said.

"Mikey didn't do a thing wrong!" Joran protested. "It was a chance deflection in that scramble." For that matter, the other goal on him had been the same.

"How's your lip reading?" Torin asked.

"Apparently not good enough." He'd seen Mikey muttering, that was all.

"He asked for Kevin. My guess is he's tired. They can't afford another goal."

"Mm." Joran tucked his legs up. Maybe he was the one not up to this Octagla stuff!

***

"It's a pity Kevin has no staying power," Torin said as the angular black smothered a shot.

"He wouldn't be backup if he did," Daron agreed.

"Okay, what am I missing?" Joran said. "He made an easy save – and good thing too or they'd be further behind, but –"

"That was not an easy save." Torin cut across Joran. "That was one of trickier shots this period. That's why he's so good – nobody is better at that psych part of the game. His acting casual just said, 'Oh really is that the best you can do?'. Two or three saves like that, and his cool attitude really demoralizes the opposition."

"Mind games." Joran frowned. There was so much to learn. He'd realized a few days ago he would never be a hands-off owner, and had warned Torin and Daron. They'd shrugged and said that they had figured that out.

"Mind games," Torin agreed, and focused on Red and Anhiorl moving into position for the face-off. Red was looking better somehow...

***

Red took the face-off, just. There had been way too many interceptions resulting in scrambles near the net, and he wasn't causing the next one! He headed for the Suns' end, more or less elbowing and kicking his way. And suddenly he was clear.

Red applied full jets as both Warkiza and Kip moved to cover him. He saw Broygum shift slightly, assuming he would go for the slower moving Warkiza. Good, let him think that. Red moved to that side of the court, low. Hey there Warkiza. We go about fifty-fifty on your stopping me one-on-one like this. Red closed in. That's right, Warkiza. Get ready to stop me.

But what you think isn't what's happening! Red jetted up and right, snapping off a bounce shot over Kip's shoulder. He watched Broygum try for it, but he was out of position and partly screened. It went in! As the goal light went on, Red briefly acknowledged the fire that was his bruises and cracked rib. Then the team piled on.

***

"Wow!" Chan said. "That's one for the record book."

"Too risky," Daron said sourly.

"Get over hating him," Joran said seriously. "Negative energy is a waste."

"And you like Kit all of a sudden?" Daron fired back. He had never figured out why Joran finally agreed to sign Kit to his music label since they couldn't stand each other. For that matter, he couldn't see why Joran disliked Kit. Kit was a good guy. It had to be some sort of professional jealousy since Kit had one of the few voices in the galaxy as good as Joran's. Oh ... did he dislike Red because of some sort of jealousy? No way! Red wasn't good, and he was just plain a S.O.B.

"Touché!" Joran laughed.

***

Anhiorl took the face-off, got ten meters, and the buzzer ending the second period sounded.

6-5 for the Suns.

***

What a comeback! Carmen gave up on pretending to work, and hurried to get herself a cold herbal tea from the unit just around the corner down the hall. She did not see anyone around to laugh at her, so she ran back trying to not miss a minute of the halftime break. A commercial for vacations on Laurion was just finishing, so she hadn't missed anything! As Carmen plopped into her chair the last chords faded and the camera focused on a group of five, the network's aging Octagla anchorman Jorj Deranga, the black ex Octagla player Kenoff Ridge still with his winger's build, and gorgeous blonde color commentator Hidi Vernen. Carmen wondered what she felt with Daron in the hospital. With them were Larr and Red.

"That was great seeing you run roof!" Jorj said to Larr at his unctuous best, the light gleaming on his balding head. "Will we see you up there more in the series?"

"Of course, every game," Larr said easily as Jorj activated the replay of his goal. And how would Jorj, who had to feel like he knew everything react to Tedia looking better than Rall ever had? Larr reached for his water bottle, avoiding Hidi's eyes. When she had been Daron's girl she had always known all the team secrets – and kept her mouth shut. And now that she was working with the sports show and not Daron's girl? Would she still have and protect all the team secrets? She was around a lot and he wasn't sure Big Luis could control her like Daron had. He was inclined to not test her discretion.

Instead he turned to Kenoff. Better to take the offensive here, make it a joke. "In all your years in the court, did you ever see anything as funny as Menzaille flipping up to the crossbar and startling me into choking?" Larr gave an easy if insincere laugh.

"They'll throw that in your face forever," Kenoff joined Larr in the laughter, hoping he was helping take the sting out of the embarrassment. Larr was okay.

***

"Something has changed about Red," Chan said meditatively.

Reluctantly Daron surfaced. He'd been deliberately ignoring Red as soon as the show shifted to him, and focusing on Hidi. Except that her blouse was blue, not wine, she looked just like she had the night of the Celebrity Game, the night she fell in love with Big Luis. He'd been asking himself how much he minded losing her now that time had passed. He and Hidi had definitely been more than friends with benefits. But he had never put the glow in her eyes Big Luis had. And being honest he had never truly loved Hidi. Liked more than he had thought possible, but not loved now that he knew what love was. He'd decided he really did wish her and Big Luis well, that he still felt the same as he had the day he'd given them his blessing.

"And I'm sure we'll be seeing more great play this period," Jorj said, easing the Tamara players out so the Suns could have their time.

Daron gave Chan a dirty look. He didn't need to see Red smirk and agree to how great he was going to be.

"I –" Red swallowed. "Look, there's something I have to say. I know Parnilsak and Pelfran are just off set waiting, but can I have a couple minutes time?"

"Of course," Hidi said before Jorj, who was visibly irritated, could cut him off. Whatever it was was important to Red.

"Thanks, Hidi. I don't know if Daron is watching the game, but if he isn't please send this to him." Red squared his shoulders and looked at the camera. "This –" he waved a hand hopelessly, "this series was never supposed to be this way. Sure, Daron, we didn't get along and I wanted your slot. But I wanted to earn it over a couple years. Not be here playing while you're in a hospital. Every time I face off, I think you should be there not me. Every time I play first string I realize I was telling myself a lot of crap – you were so much better than me."

Cheeks flaming the color of his hair, Red dropped his eyes. "I guess I just want you to know that this is your series and Gengo and I will do our best to cover for you, win it like you would have."

"Well said," Larr put an arm around Red, the first time he'd ever voluntarily touched him. "Daron – you work at getting well." Larr turned to Red. "Now let's clear out and make space for Parnilsak and Pelfran."

"It's okay," Pelfran said stepping into the blazing lights and putting a hand on Larr's shoulder to stop him from rising. "Daron, we all miss you. We'd intended to beat you, but we knew that wasn't for sure, and we miss you." Pelfran grinned slightly. "Well, probably not Valskoa. He's got a better shot at a lot of records now."

"Watch your mouth, Pelfran!"

Valskoa's furious voice made him jump, and Pelfran looked to where Valskoa had been patched through to a screen. He was sweaty, half dressed, and livid.

"Hey, I was joking," Pelfran said.

"Well it bloody isn't something to joke about! Hey, Daron – you know you are the best. Just put all that fight you have into healing."

Then Valskoa was gone.

*****

Chapter 39

Mikey watched with resignation as the Suns piled on Ertwaine. Well, being tied had lasted a whole one minute forty seven seconds and it had taken all period to get that tie. He knew there was no use being down on himself. You couldn't stop a goal when you didn't even see the ball, and he still had no idea where that shot had come from. He gave sincere thought to using the team channel and telling Big Luis he did a lousy job of clearing the crease, but he figured he'd never get a word in edge-wise. Tarell was yelling at Big Luis, and for such a quiet guy he'd really lost his temper.

Mikey contented himself with biting his lip, leaning on his stick, and waiting to see the replay so he knew where Ertwaine had taken the shot from. Here we go. Mikey focused on the mega screen. Ertwaine didn't have the ball coming in. Anhiorl did. So far so good. He was seeing exactly what he saw and played to. Everyone was moving in. Greedy Valskoa cut across and... Son of a bitch! No way Big Luis should have let that behind the back pass happen, much less help screen it. Mikey decided to help Tarell yell at him.

***

I am here. I must take this face-off at all costs. It doesn't matter if I ever take a face-off. I am calm, meditating, remembering my garden. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in every cell. I am calm, studying the curve of an orchid... Gengo knew he was too wired. Sending his mind to that well-known garden reference was not working. He never played well like this. Heightened awareness was good. Wired was not. He did not fight it. The panic would pass. He let long experience take him into a different mode to enter meditation.

He shifted his stick slightly so he could see a line of light reflected down the side. That line trembled with his beating heart. He was that line. That line was him. Slowly, the line stilled, his heart calmed. Gengo let his consciousness expand beyond that line of light. He was aware of the Octagla court, of every player, every nuance of their stance. Good, the part of his brain that formed thought said. Hyper aware. He let that thought come and go without meaning, diving deeper into his meditative state. That same part of his brain that formed thought knew Anhiorl was watching him with a strange expression. The rest of his brain was the Octagla stick, the ball that was now being released...

It was too easy. Gengo knew it. Anhiorl knew it. The part of his brain that thought knew Anhiorl didn't like it, and he rolled, deflecting the slash meant to knock the ball loose. I am one with the ball, the stick. Gengo applied jets, weaving his way adroitly between the players. It wasn't going to work. He was being forced to the right, blocked by Parnilsak. Tedia, can you read minds? Gengo was not going to even murmur, look. The eyes on him were too intent. Sometimes in the practices he could swear Tedia could read minds ... And there he was, moving in. Keep coming Tedia. You're welcome to the goal.

How he'd waited for this! Tedia closed in, intent on Parnilsak who was totally focused on Gengo, then suddenly accelerated, stick raised.

What!? Gengo's agile mind froze for a split second at what was obviously going to be a fight, not a goal. And he still didn't have a clear route.

"Mercan is clear," Roban said over the intercom, more interested in whether or not Parnilsak would take his focus off Gengo in time or really get decked. Oh how he hoped Tedia flattened him.

Mercan is clear? That's news to me. Mercan took a better look at the other side of the court. Yeah, he was relatively clear compared to that mess. Tedia was about half a second from really belting Parnilsak, and obviously Pelfran who could see everything wasn't going to give his teammate any warning. Interesting that. Larr was going in to protect the kid, and Pelfran was just kind of following, disinterested.

Mercan tried to judge the distance and angles. Anhiorl was in Gengo's peripheral vision. How long before he could knock the ball loose? Anyway, either Anhiorl was going to get the ball and try to come back and widen the lead, or there was going to be a fight with everybody getting ten, or there was going to be a bench clearer and game suspensions. Well, I'd better get the ball and a shot off before Bourara has anything to call.

Mercan accelerated suddenly with full torque, startling Ertwaine. "Freeing myself, Gengo," he murmured.

"Don't!" Isley's voice on the private channel to Larr was firm. This attack showed that Tedia's old coach was right, Tedia was more of a fighter than he thought. Well then, Tedia had to show he could hold his own and pay the consequences. The guys couldn't start to protect him. Isley was fully aware he could have stopped Tedia, not Larr, but Parnilsak was due for some grief and Tedia was agile.

Larr knew that tone, and veered, almost colliding with Pelfran. Mmm ... Change trajectory one degree and Gengo has a choice who to pass to.

Let your mind to flow out. Be one with the court, the game. Do I pass to Mercan or Larr? It is all one. I have to decide now. Gengo sensed, knew, could not actually see, that Tedia and Parnilsak had Broygum distracted. His fast pass was to Mercan.

Mercan did not have to sense the same distraction. He saw it. He took a long shot, not wanting Broygum to focus, wanting him to think he was coming in further. It worked. The shot went in, upper left. Tied again!

The buzzer sounded just after Tedia connected with Parnilsak. It was a clean enough check, but hard enough to wind him. Parnilsak turned, stick raised.

"Let Parnilsak be," Gengo advised, then headed to the goal to congratulate Mercan. Tedia wasn't going to listen, but he'd said what had to be said.

Tedia dodged the first blow, got hit solidly by the second. He countered with a check to the arm that had hit him. It wasn't exactly legal but it almost was. It wasn't going to get called since Parnilsak hit him first. And the counter-check was going to hurt, hurt enough Parnilsak would play the rest of the game with a neuroblock. Tedia's eyes narrowed as he waited for the retaliation.

And what did he do about these two? Bourara asked himself as he moved in before the fight could turn into a brawl. Technically no one had done anything, but Tedia sure hadn't just been clearing Parnilsak out of the way. That hit came well after Gengo passed off. And he didn't want the kid to end up the kind of league problem Larr had been his first few years.

Parnilsak made the decision easy. His next swing was a butt end, high, aiming for shoulder where the pads met, and it came too fast for Tedia to dodge. He paled, and went right back at Parnilsak with a butt end of his own to the same spot.

"That's enough!" Bourara positioned himself between the players. "Parnilsak – Tedia – you both get five."

"Si, Señor."

"And Tedia – that's twice now you've started trouble."

"Sorry, Señor."

"I doubt it," Bourara said, and moved to collect the ball.

***

Red took the face-off with ease and started into the Suns' end, shifting slightly to make up the gap in formation with Tedia in the box. He liked this shorthanded, more wide open play when both teams had penalties. Red knew all they had to do was hold the tie, and push ahead after the break, but he hoped to do more than that. With Rundell in the dressing room with Doc, getting that wrist looked at again, Isley had moved Rishic up, not used Marco or Greg. That was good – he liked playing with Rishic. It felt familiar, like being back on second string.

Red firmly put that thought out of his head. He didn't want to be back on second string. All the same, it was nice to see Rishic's ugly face over there as they all worked in. On impulse Red passed to him and got a grin.

Rishic made his move, jetting towards the wall. Kip realized he was for serious and moved too, just enough to be a screen. Rishic hit the wall with his feet, took one stride, and shot. Wooh! Broygum was hot tonight. He couldn't have seen that until the last fraction of a second, but there was a deflection towards the other side. Rishic gave Red a frustrated grin and shrugged.

Larr, Warkiza, and Pelfran all headed for the ball. Larr applied max velocity, but Pelfran was closest. He got there first and netted the ball. Larr moved in to take it from him, but Warkiza had other plans. He gave Larr a glancing blow, making him spin, and when Warkiza hit you like that, you stayed spinning. Larr watched in frustration as Pelfran slipped out of his reach and headed down the court.

Red back-jetted, and as Anhiorl pivoted to follow the play he was there facing him, blocking him. No way are you going in there too.

Without support or much optimism, Pelfran kept going watching the seconds slip away. He knew a losing situation. Seven, six, five. There was nothing for it. He took a long shot that Maras got a piece of and deflected. As the ball hit the wall the end of period buzzer sounded.

8 – 8

***

That was better! Carmen beamed at her screen and contentedly switched to the spreadsheet. Hadn't Maras looked pleased with himself just then!

***

"Can they break the tie?" Joran asked Torin. He was trying to learn to anticipate, not just watch.

Torin took a quick look at Chan. He didn't want to be negative with Chan in rough shape, but...

"Don't put money on it," Chan said. "The whole team is off balance." He spread his hands helplessly. He wasn't the coach. All he knew was they were lucky to have tied it.

Torin nodded agreement. "Two great goals – Larr and Red – gave them a lift, but they keep slumping back to scrambling. Maybe Isley can talk them out of it."

"Could you?" Joran asked bluntly.

Torin considered. "Probably not. The team just hasn't had those players together long enough."

*****

Chapter 40

Back and forth, back and forth. Joran watched play change ends – again. How was Daron managing to stand the stress? So far he hadn't complained, and Knett hadn't intervened. Daron was pale and shaking though. Well, he couldn't fault Daron for that. Joran figured his own legs would shake if he tried to stand up, and sweat was pricking his back his back as Mikey smothered the ball.

"Torin, are they going to be up to overtime?" It sure looked like they were headed that way to Joran as the game was tied again with just over one minute left.

"They'd better be," Torin said grimly as Bourara motioned Red and Anhiorl to face-off in the Tamara end. "They're trying – better than I expected. But Broygum is having one of those nights where he's better than Menzaille."

"Mm." Joran bit his lip and lapsed into silence.

***

How did Gengo stay calm, Red asked himself, knowing it was a futile question. But asking it used up at least part of the infinity of time he was apparently going to have to wait since Anhiorl had decided his glove needed to be checked. It was just a psych move to unsettle him, of course. Red watched Bourara and Anhiorl tug at a seam. Red frowned. Anhiorl's hand was trembling. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Anhiorl was tired, or nervous and needed a break. That helped, that and the vote of confidence Isley had implicitly given him by letting him take what could be the last face-off of the game.

Red took the face-off more easily than he had expected. The plan was he would pass off to Larr, but if Anhiorl really was tired he'd take the play in himself, let defense wonder for a bit what side the play would be on. Pelfran had been flat earlier. But this period he hadn't given Larr much of a chance and he was in Larr's face again. Red veered left and up, again getting past Anhiorl more easily than he should have. Maybe that check from Big Luis last shift had done more damage than it looked like... Anhiorl hadn't gone to the box, but he might be hiding something. They might be able to use that.

"Roban, I think Anhiorl is hurt," he murmured as both Parnilsak and Ertwaine moved in on him, trying to stop him crossing center court.

"Thanks. Rundell is clear." Larr certainly wasn't so the planned play was no use. Roban shifted the plan. "Try play eight."

Red checked from his angle, then passed off.

All right Valskoa, you are not giving me any grief this time. Rundell's expression was his usual good-natured smile, but his eyes held venom he didn't try to hide. Perhaps that helped because there was a momentary hesitation. That moment was all he needed and he was past, moving into the Suns' end at maximum velocity. Mercan and Tedia weren't far behind, but Red and Larr were still both really tied up.

Rundell veered closer to the wall, drawing Kip with him. It was so tempting to try for the tie breaking goal, but the anesthetic had worn off and Doc had flatly refused to use more even if it cost them the game. The neuroblock just wasn't enough. Kip didn't know that though. Rundell accelerated and as Kip closed in he back-passed to Mercan.

Here goes. Mercan netted the ball. Of course Ertwaine had to have anticipated that – he bloody anticipated everything. Mind like a machine. But you aren't stopping me this time. Mercan veered past, elbows up. The only problem now was he was one-on-one with Broygum and it was hard to score on him tonight. Well, he'd better score now or they'd be playing all night. That was an empiricism Mercan believed. One overtime period became three.

Or was he one-on-one with Broygum? How the hell did the kid end up at the crease all of a sudden like that? As an equally startled Broygum half turned, Mercan took a shot but Broygum got a piece of it. Damn him! Why couldn't Scimkla have let Menzaille back in?

Mercan watched Tedia, Warkiza, and Parnilsak head into the corner after the ball and grimaced. Not good odds for the kid.

Time to help out. Mercan started elbowing his way in. One problem though, Warkiza wasn't budging, and that man had inertia with his mass. The other problem was that he rarely worked this side, so while Warkiza wasn't totally unknown, there were unknown aspects. Like exactly where did the gentle giant end – well, mostly gentle giant – and a really mean streak surface? Mercan was no coward, but he intended to survive for the next series.

Warkiza ended his speculations and the attempt to edge in with a shove that sent Mercan flying. At the same time Parnilsak emerged with the ball, Tedia right behind him. Might as well join the chase, Mercan decided, and used the extra speed Warkiza gave him to head back to the Tamara end. In his peripheral vision he saw Rundell and Valskoa heading in too. Mercan's mobile face contorted into a grimace of disgust. Just what they needed. A body jam around the net with fifty one seconds left. Stay lucky, Mikey, stay lucky.

Maras glared at incoming Parnilsak with narrowed eyes. Bastard weren't getting near the net this late in the game. Weren't shooting neither. Mikey were doing fine, but he were tired. Isley done right keeping him in 'cause Kevin never closed a tight playoff game. But Mikey were tired. So who's there Parnilsak can pass off to? Anhiorl were furthest in, but Red were right. Anhiorl weren't lookin' so great. Gotta be Pelfran if him an' Larr stopped shoving each other.

Yup. Maras saw Parnilsak murmur something and all of a sudden Pelfran's ignoring Larr and starting to move. Meant he got to close the gap. Good! Tedia were thinking the same thing. Kid were smart, got the one angle he couldn't cover. All right Parnilsak, what you gonna do now? We can time you out and get Mikey a rest.

Maras closed in, hoping to drive Parnilsak further out of position. Sorta worked until Parnilsak did a full pivot and passed up court to Valskoa. Damn! And he'd carry the play in and all of both offensive lines would be here. Maras grinned. By the swearing Big Luis didn't think much of it either. Oh well, not much time left.

Mikey watched the play moving in, his arms flapping more than usual because he was tense. That didn't bother him. He played better tense. Relaxed was when he screwed up. Here they come, here we go again.

Galaxy! It would help if twelve players weren't right in front of him. Mikey was having to rely on instinct as much as vision to follow the ball. Yes... Ertwaine just passed back to Valskoa. Of course he would. Ertwaine was dead meat if he scored the winning goal, not Valskoa. Ertwaine wasn't an idiot. Well Valskoa, you're out of luck because... Got it! I actually got it! Didn't see the last bit for Pelfran's legs, but I got it!

Damn! Mikey added a few more oaths as he tried to follow the ball he had intended to smother except someone... Pelfran? He was close enough to kick his stick. Anyway, someone knocked the ball loose with a kick. He'd figure out who later. Right now, where was the ball? Headed for the upper left! Mikey stretched, got a piece of it. There was no chance of his holding this one. Parnilsak caught the deflected ball, shot. Mikey moved to cover the low shot, but Pelfran deflected it mid air, damn the man. Mikey corrected as best he could, but he knew he wouldn't stop the shot. It went in off the goalpost. The goal buzzer sounded at the same time as the end of game buzzer. Mikey shut his eyes, hoping against hope while the electronics were analyzed.

"The goal is valid," the scorekeeper announced. "Final score: Tamara 8 - Suns 9

Mikey didn't bother to open his eyes. There were too many tears.

"Hey, Mikey," Tarell said on a private channel, "you didn't have a chance. No goalie would have."

Yeah, sure. He stood there until Kevin came and took a hold of him, pushing him past the players towards the box.

***

"It happens," Torin said, carefully watching Joran's face. "You know Octagla is like that – a mix of timing, talent, and luck. If you were for the Suns, that was a brilliant – and lucky – move by Pelfran. If you are on Tamara, it was sheer luck Pelfran got a deflection. And lousy luck that the one tenth of a second difference in time didn't go the other way."

Joran was silent for a long moment. "You'll be a good coach."

***

Carmen wiped tears from her eyes. They tried so hard! But trying wasn't winning, was it? She turned off her computer. She was headed home for that ice cream and cuddle with Blinky. The work would be there in the morning, much too early in the morning because she didn't think she'd sleep.

*****

Chapter 41

The door tone sounded. Mikey ignored it. It sounded again. Mikey ignored it. It sounded again. Again. Tough.

"Mikey!" A loud and very muffled voice came through the door. "Open up or I'll get Isley."

Tarell would too. Reluctantly Mikey swung off the bed, took the couple steps to get to the door, and opened it. Tarell stepped in, Kevin behind him.

"You still beating on yourself?" Tarell asked bluntly.

He took an assessing look at Mikey and didn't like what he saw. Mikey was unshaven and still in pajamas. If Tarell weren't worried, he would have been amused that the pajamas were loudly colored fan merchandise for one of the role playing games. Did the guy have any idea how that made him look like a cute, slightly chubby six year old?

Mikey blushed and shrugged. "I suppose so."

"You didn't do a thing wrong," Kevin said quickly, his dark face concerned. He didn't like what he was seeing either.

"I know." Mikey had spent hours watching and rewatching the goal. "But it was me that did it." They would understand.

"Yes, welcome to the Big League," Tarell said, his blue eyes unreadable.

Mikey stared at him blankly. He'd played Galactic Pro for two years now, so what was Tarell trying to say?

"You have just blown your first critical playoff game. You know you didn't blow it. Kevin and I know you didn't blow it, and every goaltender in the galaxy will have watched that twenty times and knows you didn't blow it. But every sportscaster will analyze that from now until forever, and say you blew it simply because that's better drama and ratings than saying it was tough luck."

"Thanks a lot," Mikey said but he felt obscurely better. "Sit down. What do you want to drink?"

Tarell claimed a chair, Kevin the unmade bed. He groaned as he laid down. "I moved wrong sometime last night. Doc's looked at me and said tough you're fine, but he's not the one moving."

Mikey handed around citrus tea and took the other chair.

"Seriously, Mikey. The loss isn't what matters –" Tarell stopped mid-sentence at the look on Mikey's face. "Come on, I have seven losses like that on my record, and you do the stats on any of the Galactic goalies who have played finals and their numbers are similar."

"Seven." Kevin arched an eyebrow, a lip twisting slightly.

"Seven," Tarell said firmly, looking very aggressive with set jaw and a jutting dark blond beard that was longer now that he wasn't playing. "Because I flatly refuse to consider the eighth remotely my fault and you know Kanteiraj got a one-game suspension for belting me that hard."

"See," Kevin said, "six years later and he's still testy about it."

Mikey hadn't thought he'd ever laugh again, but he did.

That was better. Tarell returned to what he'd been saying. "What matters is how you come back for the next game."

Speaking of the next game... "Will you be able to play, Kevin?" Mikey asked trying to hide his alarm.

"Didn't I tell you I didn't even get sympathy from Doc? I'll be fine weightless. I didn't even know I hurt until I woke up."

Mikey relaxed a bit. "So how do I come back for next game?" He'd dreaded jetting into the arena.

"Channel all that self disgust into anger at the Suns."

That might not be hard to do. Mikey thought about a few plays in the game. Dirty plays.

"And until then, stay distracted. Since we all know you can't play even mildly hung over, don't hit the bars."

"Thus speaks the voice of experience," Kevin said. "Tarell was really pissed by one of the seven bad losses he will admit to. He went on a solid drunk, and then played the worst game of his life." Kevin knew. He'd had to bail him out.

"Thank you very much, Kevin." Tarell gave him a mock glare. "I was thinking of starting a tournament of Gaxxalliq." He hadn't been, but the pajamas had given him the idea. Gaxxalliq was the currently popular virtual reality game Mikey had fan pajamas for. "It will keep all our reflexes up – and I'll save Kevin telling you, I need it. I dropped one rank last time I played." That really bothered Tarell. Obviously practices, even with the extra workouts with the roof runners, weren't keeping his eye sharp the way being in a game did.

"Sure. Do we use our normal avatars, or can I make a new persona?" Mikey asked. "I feel like a bad guy right now."

"Sure," Tarell said. This should be interesting. Mikey as a bad guy?

***

All eyes in the practice court were on Rall, but he seemed oblivious, staring at Tarell in the goal but not seeing him. Larr had never been able to read that expression. Now, despite being warm from the workout, that look was making an icy sweat prick his back faster than the unitard could wick it away. He knew Tedia was trying to catch his eye, get a nod, a wink, any kind of reassurance, but Larr kept his eyes fixed on his father. There was no reassurance to give Tedia.

The only one who seemed oblivious to the tension was Gengo. Larr took his eyes off Rall to study him. Gengo was just floating there, relaxed, looking like his mind was light-years away. How could he stay so detached? Larr knew that it was not that he didn't care. When he was in the court Gengo gave one hundred twenty percent. Larr went back to studying his father. What more could that man want? They were as tight a line now as Roban and Ranga and Daron had ever been.

Rall took his time, mentally reviewing every play in the practice one last time. He did not want to cost Tamara the three-peat. He'd spent time playing offense against Tedia, Gengo, and Larr looking for weaknesses. He had drilled them. He couldn't find a flaw. He turned to Isley.

"Try them. They're ready."

*****

Chapter 42

Nick looked at his wrist-cuff. It was still morning, and his To Do list was getting clear faster than he thought. It was worth checking to see if there were still be a few Octagla tickets left to buy in the block held for on-station employees. You were strictly forbidden to scalp them, so a lot of people who weren't sure of their schedules waited. Later in the day if there were any tickets left over they would be released to the crowd waiting at the spaceports planetside hoping without much hope to get one and catch a last shuttle before the game. He contacted the ticket office. He was in luck! There were four remaining tickets, and two were adjacent seats. He grabbed them. Now he just had to find someone to go with him. It should be quite the game.

Rising, Nick ran a comb through his salt-and-pepper hair. He looked middle-aged, but he was still under fifty. He had a good career handling cargo transfers and had been on the space station for almost fifteen years now. There were two or three lady friends in his life, but no one in particular. He liked it that way, companionship without commitment. Carmen was one of those women. In all honesty she would not have been his first choice to go to an Octagla game with. Usually he went with one of the guys – often Bill. But Bill was stuck doing overtime today, and Carmen had caught his eye walking past his office to the beverage area, which was strange now that he thought about it. He rarely thought of Carmen any more than he thought of his desk, or office chair. But she had caught his eye. Straightening the blue blazer that was identical to Carmen's he walked to the corner then turned into the hallway with her office.

"Carmen." Nick stopped at the door. There really was something undefinable about her today. She was looking, well, not like Carmen.

"Hello Nick."

Carmen's smile was warm. She was in the best mood she'd been in for months. She planned to skip lunch in favor of a beauty treatment and a liquid meal. Until then she was essentially working on autopilot. When it was time to go home and change, her best sweater and the pants she would wear over her unitard were waiting for her to pick them up at the cleaners. Carmen rarely wore pants. She knew she looked bad in them, but they would be better squatting in public to play with Little Al. You couldn't expect a child that age to stay put for a whole Octagla game. Surely Larr's parents would want to watch their son, not play with Little Al. So Carmen was going to wear pants. So all she had to do later was change, touch up her hair and makeup, eat if she wasn't too excited, and meet Larr's parents in the team box.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the game tonight? I've got two seats."

It was very, very tempting to say 'Why? Can't you get anybody else?' Carmen knew exactly where she stood with Nick. She was a convenience. Still, the list of men who would ask her out wasn't long. So she kept her tongue, gave him a smile and said, "Thanks, but I already have a seat."

"What number? You can probably get a swap and we can sit together."

Oh, this felt good. "I don't think so. I'll be in the team's box."

It took a moment for Nick to process that, then he stared. "How did you wrangle that?" He'd had no idea Carmen was such an Octagla fan! The team box for what could be the most crucial game of the season? He'd only been in a luxury box once, and that wasn't the team box. It was a shipping company's.

"Larr and Maras were over for supper. Larr got me a ticket, and after the game we're going for supper." Obviously there wouldn't be a party of Big Luis' since the series was tied and they needed two wins, but that was fine. All of this was already beyond her wildest dreams.

All right, he could take a joke as well as the next man, but there were limits. "Carmen, why don't you just say you don't want to go." Nick turned and left.

***

Carmen looked at an assigned visitor number and the sighed. Another transient who had misspoken or had finger problems. Well, they were all trained to be as polite as possible to visitors, so she put on a smile. Maybe it wouldn't take long and then she would go for lunch and that pampering at her favorite salon.

"Carmen speaking, can I help you?" As the connection was made she realized she was looking at the middle-aged blonde woman who had been holding Little Al.

"Hello, Carmen. I'm Ingar, Larr's mother. He said you would be his guest in the box tonight. So I thought I'd call and introduce myself so we aren't strangers. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Carmen said. "How are Little Al and Jellybean?"

Ingar smiled. This woman looked like she really wanted to know. "Both manic and wearing me out." The smile Carmen returned was both amused and compassionate. She'd risk Larr's wrath. She was not going to have him involved with another Orchid, or going back to Orchid. This woman seemed, well, she seemed ordinary and nice. Time would tell.

"So I was wondering – if your lunchtime is in the next hour, maybe Little Al and I could have lunch with you in a café. This room is getting way too small." A sitter could watch Jellybean.

"That would be lovely," Carmen said discarding thoughts of a beauty treatment in favor of Little Al. After all, how much could a beautician do with what she was giving them to work with. "I'm free in ten minutes. Where do you want to meet?"

"I have no idea. I thought since you worked here you might have a suggestion."

Carmen bit her lip. "How is he with other kids?"

"Loves them."

"Well, the Bird's Wings is the most family-oriented portel and there is a café with a corner where kids can play with toys."

"That sounds perfect. Maybe he can wear himself out while you and I have a nice visit."

About what? Boring spreadsheets? Somehow this woman did not look like Blinky stories would amuse her. She seemed nice enough, but not one to laugh at pets. "Good. I'll just finish up here. It will take ten minutes. Don't wait for me to arrive. Just get a table and start feeding Little Al, and tell the hostess I'm joining you."

Ingar suddenly looked worried. "You are one hundred percent sure this is a family restaurant?" She looked over to where Little Al was playing a game with himself that involved a lot of trying to run, falling, and shouting. She still hadn't figured out what the game was.

Carmen laughed. She could hear the racket. "One hundred percent" She decided she liked Larr's mother. "He can make all the mess and noise he wants." She loved watching the mothers trying to feed the little ones. That's why she went there.

*****

Chapter 43

Carmen hesitated in the doorway of the restaurant. She had forgotten how noisy the place was, or maybe it was the sudden headache she'd just taken tablets for. She was finally paying for getting up at 5:30 to catch up on her work after watching the game last night. As she started to scan the room, the hostess came hurrying over.

"Carmen! Let me show you to your table."

"Hi Karen. Let me hang my jacket first. I thought you were in the dining room." It would not do to go back to work with a jacket a child had splashed.

The chubby Oriental woman made a face. "New management experiment. We should all rotate around for depth of experience."

"Ouch." Carmen had known Karen for years. Karen was quiet and elegant, the perfect hostess for the formal dining room.

"You've got it. One more management experiment and I start applying around, maybe even planetside!"

They were walking as they talked, and now Carmen could see Ingar and Little Al in a corner alcove. "Thanks, Karen. I see the table. You can get back to your experiment."

Karen hesitated. There had been talk that Larr and Maras visited Carmen with a little boy.

"Carmen, it's none of my business, but is that..." She trailed off.

"Larr's mother and his son. I got to know Maras and Larr when Maras lost that pup of his."

"Lucky you." Karen took off at a trot toward a grouping of two women and five children at the door. She was never having kids, never!

As Ingar started to rise, Carmen waved her to stay seated. She looked tireder than Carmen felt.

"Car'." Little Al's squeal carried across the noisy room.

Ingar watched the total delight on her grandson's face. As soon as this woman was two meters from the table he was standing up precariously on his seat, arms outstretched.

"Car'!"

"Hi Little Al!" He looked so cute in a red and yellow striped tee shirt. As she reached the table Carmen bent down and scooped him up for sloppy kiss. Over the child's tight curls she looked at Larr's mother. "Hello."

"Hello, Carmen."

Little Al put his arms around her neck. " 'Ky?"

"Blinky is at home sleeping, Little Al." Carmen tried to deposit Little Al on his seat. "And how is Jellybean?"

He tightened his grip and nestled his head on her shoulder.

"He's tired, Carmen." Ingar rose. "I'll take him." She reached out for Little Al.

"Car'!"

It was a stranglehold on her neck now. "That's all right, Ingar. Little Al, would you like to sit on my lap and eat?"

"Yah!"

The bobbing curls tickled her earlobe. "Real good. We both have to put bibs on, Little Al. And I'll have to put you in your chair for a minute for that." Carmen had watched this procedure in the restaurant.

The bobbing stopped and suspicious eyes looked up at her. A couple with a child near Little Al's age, a blonde girl in a green ruffled dress, sat down at the next table. Obviously they had been here before since Karen wasn't with them.

"Okay Little Al, you can stay on my lap and watch what they do." Carmen sat down. She really was being strangled. "Let go a little bit Little Al! Let's turn you around so you can watch them. Then you can eat."

" 'Kay." Little Al turned, looking for a plate. There wasn't one.

"The food will come in a minute. Right now, do you see that little girl?" The child was facing Little Al. Carmen's pointing caught her eye and she smiled a pretty smile.

"Hello." Carmen smiled back. "Little Al, say hello."

"Hi!" Little Al grinned.

At that moment a table attendant with jet black hair pulled tight into a knot on the top of her head and a tassel of hair escaping arrived with two stacks of colored cloths and the little girl lost interest in Little Al.

"We always stay at Bird's Wings portels," the young man said, "and our Carol loves this part."

"Please go first," Carmen said. "I don't think Little Al understands." He was starting to squirm.

"And he's tired and restless." Ingar made her first foray into the conversation.

"Doesn't space lag do that to them," the man agreed. "Carol, what bib do you want?" He pointed at the smaller pile.

It didn't take Carol two seconds. She pointed to a fluorescent green.

"Let's see what it is!" the father said.

It seemed to Carmen his enthusiasm was just a little forced.

The waitress extracted the bib and shook it open. It was printed with trees and birds.

"That's nice," Carmen observed.

"Mine!" Carol grabbed at it.

With the adeptness of hours of experience the waitress put it on Carol, saying, "Now, don't you look cute?"

The father said, "I have feeding duties and I don't care about color. It looks like the yellow ones aren't moving for adults."

"Thanks," the waitress said and shook out an adult sized bib that was almost an apron. "You happy being a lion?" A crouching lion was printed in black on the apron.

"If I could keep my eyes open, I'd roar." He stood.

The attendant laughed and tied the bib on.

His wife spoke for the first time. "You know I could do this, and you can get some rest."

He shook his head. "You're tireder than I am." He turned to the next table. "Your turn while we look at the menu. Little Al. It is Little Al?" He got a nod from the women, so he repeated, "What one is yours, Little Al?"

*****

Chapter 44

Little Al considered. It seemed to be his turn in the new game. The woman with a pile of things moved closer.

"What one do you want?" The waitress held the child's bib pile within his reach.

Cautiously he pointed at a vivid turquoise one.

"Good choice," the waitress assured him and shook out a bib printed with fish and bubbles.

"Mine?" he asked his grandmother.

"Yours," the waitress said. "I'll put it on you." Again the deft bibbing. "And you, Carmen?"

At last, she'd placed the attendant. Melinda in Accounting's cousin Sheila. "Not a lion, Sheila. Sorry I didn't recognize you. What have you done to your hair and makeup?"

"Newest fashion on Rujjipet. I'm having a great time with people not recognizing me."

"I'll feed him, Carmen," Ingar said.

Little Al looked at his grandmother. No way. Quickly he pointed to a purple bib in the big stack. "Car'!" It was a command.

"I don't mind," Carmen laughed. "But you have to go in your seat Little Al so I can stand up and put mine on." She wasn't having Sheila bib her.

Little Al acquiesced. He'd seen that part of the game at the other table.

"Good Little Al," Carmen said as she put the bib on. It had butterflies and flowers. "Now, you going to be a big boy and stay in your chair?"

He looked at his new friend at the next table. She smiled, waved, then ducked her head shyly. She was in one of the chairs. They felt funny, but she seemed to like it. "Yah." He lifted up his bib to study the fish.

"Good boy." Carmen turned. "Thanks, Sheila."

Sheila walked to a trolley and exchanged the stacks of bibs for placemats and boxes of crayons. "Here you go." She put a coloring mat in front of Carol, then Al. "Now, so you don't worry after the meal, we've figured out 'Mine' means mine. So we'll trade the dirty bib for a clean one with the same pattern printed on the front and black and white for coloring on the other side, and give you a coloring placemat. It's in the meal cost like the mats and crayons." She grinned. "Want one of yours, Carmen?"

Carmen laughed. "I might, for when I bathe Blinky." It would be a souvenir of the lunch.

"Right. Make your meal choices." Sheila touched the contact activating the screen.

***

That went rather well for both families, Carmen decided comparing which table was more of a disaster zone.

The father caught her appraisal and smiled. "How about I take Carol and Little Al to the play corner and all of you ladies can relax with a beverage."

Carmen looked at Ingar. It was her decision.

Ingar hesitated, but she was being ridiculous. The people at the next table were either exactly what they were – a nice family traveling – or else they were the best actors ever. Besides, you couldn't really get far kidnapping a child on a space station. And Little Al had his embedded tracking chip.

"Thank you, that's kind of you." All the same, she shifted her chair for a clear view of the play corner.

So did Carmen for a different reason. Little Al was so cute.

As the man helped Little Al up a slide, Ingar turned her head slightly to look at Carmen. The way the meal had turned out with all the talking between tables, she hadn't been able to really talk to Carmen. But perhaps she didn't need to. She liked Carmen so far and Little Al adored her. Why hadn't Larr ever been even remotely interested in a nice woman before? Maybe he was learning.

The mother at the next table turned to them, slightly embarrassed. "Would it be rude if I just listened to music and read while I had my lemonade?" Her voice was wistful. "It seems I never get the chance."

"You go right ahead," Ingar said. "Seize the moment and all that."

The woman gave her a grateful smile, produced earbuds, and called up a novel in a language Ingar didn't recognize. Now, how did she seize the moment and talk to Carmen about anything nontrivial?

Carmen watched the total absorption of the woman at the next table, then she spoke quietly to Ingar.

"I don't want to violate anyone's privacy, but I don't want to say something to upset Little Al either. He's a bit sensitive. Is his mother sick or something? Neither you nor Larr ever mention her."

Ingar took her time thinking. She hadn't expected such a direct question. Was the motive as stated?

After about three seconds of scrutiny Carmen got uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be prying. It's just – I guess it seems odd and I'm quite capable of accidentally saying something to Little Al like 'oh I bet your mommy would be proud of you' when he does something clever."

That was sincere. A nice woman Ingar thought, unknowingly echoing Maras's assessment. Her reticent instinct was still to say nothing, but why? The way her son was making Little Al visible it would be all over the news soon.

"How good are you at not gossiping?"

Carmen held up a hand to stop the words. "No, please. No family secrets."

"This won't be one long with Little Al here. Just wait for the press to spread it all over before you talk to a friend." After a quick look at the woman at the next table, Ingar said calmly but in a lowered voice, "If you go to Surana on the hyperweb and look up the fashion model Orchid, she is Little Al's biological mother. But by her choice she hasn't been in contact with Little Al since Larr got custody soon after Little Al's birth. Rall and I have raised Little Al. And I have no idea whether or not Larr and Orchid contact each other." She gave a quiet, tired smile. "He knows what I'd say if I knew he was in contact, so he wouldn't tell me."

Carmen bit back the instinctive 'it's terrible', 'how horrid' platitudes. Those sad, tired eyes deserved something more. She turned to watch Little Al.

At last Carmen said, "What a foolish waste, to miss so much joy in her life. And how selfish of her to not give what joy she can to Little Al even if she has decided she doesn't like Larr." Although she had no idea why this Orchid would dislike Larr, unless it was the obvious and he slept around when traveling. For Larr that would be most of the time.

*****

Chapter 45

Maras strapped on his shoulder pads with more than his usual sense of anticipation. It were going to be quite the night. He chuckled to himself, imagining the reaction of the Pendrae Suns to the fact they was using three roof runners. He mentally conceded it wouldn't be a total surprise. Larr had done good when he run roof last game. And while their practices had been closed, the Suns had to know Rall were attending those practices, and that there was special practices. So they gotta been guessing and guessing, trying to figure what were going on. And they'd think they knew, that Rall were tuning up Larr and the rest of the line were working with him from the floor. And they was going to have it all wrong!

Chuckling again at the prospect, Maras looked down the room to where Tedia was getting dressed, to see how the kid were holding up. He watched Tedia strapping on his shin protectors. As the kid straightened up he caught Maras's eyes and gave him a lopsided grin and a thumbs up. That were good, real good. It wouldn't be so good if the kid freaked now. But he wouldn't, the now pro-Tedia Maras reassured himself. Gengo, sitting beside Tedia looked up too, and nodded, and repeated Tedia's thumbs up. Maras nodded back. Gengo were a strange one, but he were good in a court.

His eyes traveled on to where Larr, already dressed, was deep in conversation with Mikey. Larr were real nervous. You could tell by the way he were standing, shifting his weight a lot. Well, that were okay. Larr were a pro. He'd settle down in the court.

Continuing around the room, Maras's gaze stopped at the basket in the corner where they'd all put their pups so they could get dressed. Silky and Jellybean was curled up together, sound asleep. Only Atikujla were awake, her bright red head poked over the edge of the basket, her eyes not missing a thing. She'd make a real good mascot out on the bench when she grew up a bit.

Coach Isley came over and gave Maras the kind of clout Maras usually gave others. "You going to sit there all night grinning? Or you going to get dressed?"

Isley realized that in his own way Maras was as nervous as the rest. He also realized Maras now felt quite responsible for Tedia, that Tedia was his discovery as far as Maras was concerned.

"I'm dressin', I'm dressin'."

Maras lifted the next piece of equipment. If he had one objection to the night, it were that Rall wouldn't be in the dressing room or the box as assistant coach. That didn't somehow seem right to him, an' usually Isley did the right thing.

Maras had not been party to a long, heart to heart, late-night talk Rall and Isley had had. They had decided that if things did not go as well as planned Larr was more likely to choke with his father in the box.

Somehow the elbow pad right on his fractured elbow did not fit comfortably. Maras swore, removed it, and gave the offending object a dirty look.

"Relax. You'll get that MVP yet," Isley said.

"Maybe. Maybe it'll be Larr, or Tedia." He reapplied the elbow pad with a grimace. Just plain were gonna hurt no matter how it fit.

***

"Da!"

As soon as the players started coming out the door, Little Al tried to wiggle out of Rall's tight grip. Rall figured this was another of Larr's especially dumb moves. Ingar could have taken Little Al straight to the team box. But no, Larr had to have him here with the press around.

Larr paused just outside the door, his teammates in a line behind him patiently waiting.

"Da!" This time Little Al kicked as well as wiggled.

Well, Larr asked for it. Rall's face was a mask as he lowered Little Al to the floor in the standing position, making sure his little booties were stuck to the floor. He should be able to walk not holding anything while he was nearly weightless. He was getting better at walking daily. "All right, off you go. Go find Larr."

Little Al looked at the players, the distance to be covered, dropped to his hands and knees, started towards Larr in his fastest mode, a backwards crawl. It didn't work. As his adhesive booties lost contact with the floor in the almost zero G he started to float. Little Al gave Rall a questioning look, and started to giggle. This had happened once during the first game, and Al had decided weightless was fun. He waved and kicked, trying to make himself move.

Larr caught Rall's eyes and grinned. He'd been right to have Little Al here.

"Throw him." Larr stepped out of line.

Rall scooped Little Al up and tossed him.

Larr caught his son, and raised him to face height.

"Hi there. You having a good time, Little Al?"

Little Al nodded, his black curls bouncing. Larr studied his face. His mother kept saying that this feature or that of Little Al's looked exactly like Larr had at Little Al's age, but while Larr wanted to believe her all he saw in Little Al was Orchid. The eyes were shaped like hers, with that slightest hint of a slant. He had her deep ebony coloring, and fine bones. Already there was no doubt he'd be taller, slenderer, and probably more agile than he was.

"So, you going to watch your daddy win tonight?"

Little Al's grin broadened. "Yah!"

Was there the slightest possibility that he understood what was going on, why Larr was all dressed up in his Octagla gear? Or was he just happy and excited because Larr was happy and excited? Larr decided to try a test question.

"You going to be a good boy and sit still beside your Gramma?"

"Yah!!" Little Al's curls shook with the vehemence of his nod.

Well, that settled it. Apparently 'Yah' accompanied by a vigorous nod was the word of the week. Little Al couldn't sit still and behave for five minutes, much less a whole Octagla game. Well, it was better than the 'no' stage his mother kept warning him was coming.

"Real good. It's time to give you back to Rall, 'cause I've got to go play."

Larr was closing the distance fast. Isley was good about family. He let them past the press barricade, but it was understood they didn't bother or distract the players. Obviously a child Little Al's age couldn't understand that rule, but Larr did.

"There you go then."

"Yah!" Before his daddy could hand him to grandpa, Little Al slipped his little arms around Larr's neck and gave him a big sloppy wet kiss.

Larr ruffled the curls. "I love you too Little Al." He wasn't going to be like Rall, and avoid these sorts of scenes or words. After all, he was all that Little Al had. Then he handed Little Al to Rall.

For a moment the two men's eyes met, uncomfortable, then Larr headed back to the team. He hadn't gone a step though before he felt Rall's hand on his shoulder. A question in his eyes, Larr turned. All he got was an encouraging smile and a curt nod before Rall released him, but it was enough. He returned the smile, and headed for the team.

The press was not as well behaved as family. From behind the barrier a local Tamaran reporter called, "Larr, that your dad and brother there?" He'd got all the images, and they would make a great story – the Hall of Famer, roof runner Larr, and the next little player Rall had sired.

Larr didn't slow down, but he braced his shoulders slightly. "Little Al's mine."

That would have brought a flurry of questions, but the press got a glare from Isley that said if they so much as opened their mouths he'd have the lot of them cleared out and denied access for after the game. They knew Isley – he would too. So they kept quiet because there was one more really interesting event they wanted to see; Mercan walk out of the dressing room. If he had the nerve that is.

*****

Chapter 46

Mercan had come up to change with his arm around his fiancée – his Tamaran fiancée. The local media all knew Leeda. She was a pretty, slender, quiet woman, almost half a hand taller than Mercan and with his pale cocoa coloring. They'd got halfway down the hall when a little blonde the local reporters had assumed was a friend of Hidi's detached herself from the wall and came flying at Mercan.

"Mercan! I hitched a ride! Aren't you glad to see me, love?" She had totally ignored the other woman other than to elbow her aside and threw her arms around Mercan, giving him an enthusiastic kiss.

"Kaith! Of course I'm glad to see you." Mercan had returned the enthusiastic embrace before remembering where he was and who he was with. Belatedly he turned to Leeda. "Leeda, this is Kaith from Pendrae." Kaith had the white blonde coloring common to the northern latitudes of Pendrae. She was short, a bit plump, and had a happy round face. "Kaith, this is Leeda." Then, since he couldn't think of any possible way to save the situation, he had literally run for the dressing room.

It had taken the press a while to figure things out while asking each other 'I know Mercan's fiancée, but who is the other girl?' Those from Tamara meant they knew Leeda and who was Kaith. Those from Pendrae meant they knew Kaith, and who was Leeda. A telescopic lens confirmed two engagement rings, an elegant sapphire on Leeda, a flashy diamond on Kaith. Once they'd sorted that out, they'd settled back to watch the show.

The two women had positioned themselves on opposite sides of the corridor, maintaining an icy silence and both staring at the dressing room door. After a bit though they'd started stealing glimpses of each other. The study had become more open. Then the blonde had crossed the hall and whispered something. The women had looked at the press then they had gone and stood beyond the other 'family' who were making enough noise that even with a directional microphone eavesdropping would be difficult. They'd talked, and they'd talked, and once they had seemed to be having a fit of giggles.

They were still talking when Mercan came out the dressing room, but he didn't see them because his eyes were fixed on the number on the back of Red's tunic, and he had every intention of keeping them there. He had seriously considered not coming out of the dressing room, but this was definitely not the night to cross Isley. Besides, they had to have the win, and he was a key part of setting up the roof runners. Mercan had also seriously thought about coming out with his helmet on and his mouth protector already in place. That would solve any possible need to talk. It was getting almost impossible to get the helmet on over his hair, and once it was on it was extremely uncomfortable. Maras, in an unusual good mood, had asked if he needed a good thump to get it on, then laughed at his own joke. Maybe he should have taken him up on it. Then he'd be out cold in the dressing room right now, and that would temporarily solve his problems.

Mercan's beleaguered state of mind showed on his mobile face, and something in the set of his shoulders had onlookers deciding the situation did not bode well for the first Pendrae player that crossed him. They were right too. His own teammates had found his predicament hilarious, and the only thing that had kept him in the dressing room putting up with the teasing was knowing that both Leeda and Kaith were outside the dressing room door. All he could do was sit there and take it, and at intervals tell the lot of them to get lost. But he didn't have to take one word of lip from anyone on the Suns and he didn't intend to.

Kaith sighed watching the unhappy face, the fixed stare, and the taut shoulders. Poor Mercan – he was miserable and he would never play a decent game like that. She knew she should be furious with him – throw the engagement ring at him, slap his face, something like that. But she couldn't get herself worked up. After all, it was so like Mercan when you thought about it, wasn't It? Mercan liked people, and especially he liked women. But he wasn't like Daron, out for a one night stand and goodbye. He wanted a friend. He wanted to know your family and friends, what you did, where you lived, to be part of your life. Once he decided that combination was the way he liked it, and he decided you were his girl, he couldn't do enough to make you happy. He brought you presents, whispered sweet nothings, made promises. And he tried to keep those promises, no matter what. Back home on Pendrae they were looking at styles of wedding invitations.

No doubt, Kaith thought realistically, Mercan had a special girlfriend on every planet they played at, and with his big heart he loved and was engaged to all of them. And no doubt he'd marry every last one of them too, to not hurt anyone's feelings, then wear himself out keeping everyone happy – or get himself arrested for polygamy. That thought had her giggling again.

"Mercan, you rascal!" Kaith knew she wasn't supposed to bother him coming out of the dressing room, but he was so unhappy.

Kaith did not sound mad. In fact, she sounded like she had the giggles. Mercan risked a cautious look out of the corner of his eye.

Kaith waggled a finger at him, trying not to laugh at the look on his face. "I've been thinking, Mercan. I bet you have a fiancée on every planet you play at."

Mercan could only shake his head at this untrue accusation. He hadn't met a single woman he liked on Ennup10. They all just wanted a flashy Superstud style night. He hated playing at Ennup10. It was so lonely.

"Well," Kaith's love for Mercan was in her voice, "you'd just better win for all of us."

Mercan stole a quick look at Leeda. She met his eyes, and while there wasn't the animosity he had expected, there definitely was ice. Thick ice. He turned back to Kaith.

"I'll win it for you, Kaith."

*****

Chapter 47

Let's do it! Isley's words echoed in Gengo's brain as he took his position for the opening face-off of the game. They flowed through him along with the roar of the crowd. A million kilometers, a million light years away Anhiorl took his position. So close Gengo could see every pore of his skin, the droplets of nervous sweat, the slightest nervous flicker to Anhiorl's eyes as they met his. Let's do it!

Tonight is the night! I am calm. Tonight is any night!! I'm going to run roof tonight! I am relaxed. Tonight is any night, any game. Gengo lived the contradictions, letting himself reach for the mind-state that worked for him. No, he couldn't do it. He was too excited, the roar of the crowd was too loud. I am the roar of the crowd. I am ... He gave up. He could not reach a meditative calm to exist beside his excited hyper aware state. But he could be here, be in the now. Arbitrarily he focussed on the stitching of Anhiorl's right glove. One stitch was loose, a thumb's width above the index finger. The equipment manager should have caught that. More could loosen in a check.

That was better. He was seeing things now. Gengo's pulse slowed a little. He shifted his focus to Bourara approaching with the ball, a wild pattern of light from the megaboard shifting across his referee's uniform. Some centers hated that saying it broke their concentration, wanted the league to change it. Gengo didn't care. The shifting light pattern existed, that was all. It had no good or bad. He raised his stick to the ready position. There was no visible tremor. That was good. Opposite him Anhiorl raised his as well. There was a tremor Gengo noted, and his pulse slowed even more. But not enough.

Calmly, deliberately, trembling in every fiber Gengo watched the ball being released. The rapid, infinitely slow trajectory. At last, too soon, it was in play in the cube outlined by light. He and Anhiorl reached for it. Their sticks met and slid. His was steadier, faster. He seated the ball in his net. Let's do it!

As planned Gengo passed to Mercan for the right wing to carry the play while he, Larr, and Tedia got into position. He really hoped that was still a good idea. Mercan was in the worst mood he'd ever seen a player go into the court with.

'Out of my way, Ertwaine!' Mercan thought as he took the pass easily and jetted towards him, elbows up. What mood was Ertwaine in tonight? For a fleeting moment Mercan studied Ertwaine's calm blue eyes. The usual. Thoughtful like he's analyzing every possibility. Fine. Keep thinking, you won't get the options right this time. Good!

Terrific! Just terrific! That bastard Valskoa is not going to wait to see how things play out. Here he comes full jets, and it's too early to pass to Larr. He's still out of position. For that matter so are Tedia and Gengo. Damn! Valskoa is closing too fast. Rundell, it has to be your turn. Maybe that's safe since Valskoa is over here. Mercan made his pass and watched with satisfaction as Rundell netted it. So far so good.

'Nice try with that pass, Mercan, but it isn't that easy', Valskoa thought. He applied a torque-burst of jets and a swerve that put him back beside Rundell. With a vicious stick check that he sincerely hoped put that damaged nerve in Rundell's wrist on fire, the ball came loose. Oh no, you aren't chasing me. He shoved Rundell into a spin and applied another burst of jets. Valskoa got the ball just before Mercan and got a slashed calf for his efforts. What was with that guy tonight? He put that aside for now, assessing the path between himself and the goal. Alright! Time to score the first goal. Another twist and he was past a swearing Big Luis. With no one stopping him, he took his time for the shot.

Mikey watched Valskoa moving in, one on one. What had Tarell said? Turn you emotions into anger at the Suns. Anyways, something like that Mikey decided as he positioned himself, arms flapping. That's easy, real easy. I've had it with Valskoa. Can I be mad at Big Luis too? He should have at least slowed Valskoa down damn it! Come on Valskoa, we both know you're going to shoot, so do it! Do it!

At least it was a clean shot, but it was too fast to stop. In an apparently random but carefully planned move Mikey deflected it towards Maras's side. Damned if he was trusting Big Luis!

Good, Maras thought. For once Mikey's hot doggin' paid off. He got a piece of that shot, and the first bounce were going to put it high in this side of the court. No one were going to get the ball before it hit the wall, not at that speed.

Maras wanted that ball bad, real bad. Were gonna get an assist! An assist on a roof running goal! He jetted up. So did Parnilsak. Almost without thinking Maras disposed of him with a vicious elbow that jarred Parnilsak's teeth and sent him spinning. Maras didn't even notice with his whole attention on the ball. He were not gonna get stopped from setting up for the first roof runner play at the other end.

But were it right for that play they'd practiced and practiced? Rundell and Mercan was setting up again the way they did when the play went to that wing. Just like they was supposed to. Rundell's wrist gotta be really hurting him from being jarred so early in the game, but he hadn't gone to the box. Rundell were a real pro. Knew he had to be in the court for this and playing his best hurting or not. Isley'd had the sense not to break play calling him in. Good thing, Maras thought. Rundell were looking for a fight with anyone right now, even the coach. Got too much worries with his wrist and his wife not carrying good. But he were a pro.

Almost at the wall Maras braved another quick look at the other players and grunted with satisfaction. Now Mercan were ahead of Rundell, drawing Kip further and further off-center. Keep going Mercan. Gengo were straying over too. That would keep Kip busy, Mercan and Gengo and Rundell. Kip and Rundell didn't like each other much right now. Rundell were rubbing everyone wrong lately. Going to get a lot better when that baby were born and his wrist had a couple months to quiet down. And Mercan been shoving his elbow in Kip's face every time he went past last couple games. Huh? Kip were leaving Gengo to Warkiza. Anhiorl weren't down in their end yet. Maybe that were good. Maybe.

Let's do it! Larr took a deep breath and headed for the roof. Immediately the crowd was screaming and chanting his name.

"Larr! Larr!"

He let that chant exhilarate him.

"Larr! Larr!"

Larr's feet hit the roof and he started moving towards the goal. Not too fast, not too slow. An unenthusiastic Warkiza positioned on the roof too, obviously unable to focus well. Good. Pelfran had tried to keep him from the roof. Tried, not succeeded. The play was on!

Let's do it! Tedia's heart was pounding as he watched Larr positioning himself. He headed down like he had on some of the plays last game. That's right Parnilsak, follow me. Think you can get close enough to rough me up, stop me from taking a pass if Larr can't carry the roof play. Maybe get the pass yourself. He let Parnilsak get almost close enough to check him, then applied full jets straight up forcing Parnilsak to dodge or get a kick to the face. Just at the roof he rotated to hit the roof at a run.

There was a gasp, a collective intake of breath in millions of sports bars around the galaxy then the chant changed.

"Larr! Tedia! Larr! Tedia!"

There were the ball. Maras closed the last two meters. This were it! On a final burst of jets for momentum, Maras netted the ball. Yup. He nodded with satisfaction. They'd knowed we'd try roof running again with Larr. And they was wrong! Maras put his full mass into the pass to Tedia who was suddenly loping along the roof with that easy stride of his.

Maras could see the indecision on Warkiza's face. Was this a deke out move by Isley to get him off Larr? He'd figure that, not that Tedia were better than Larr.

"Let's do it!" Gengo was calm now, joining Roban in counting the seconds before he was to go on the roof. Three ... two ... one. Anhiorl was with him now and should be totally focussed on him, but Tedia running on the roof had all of the Suns stunned. He didn't have to do a thing. With a burst of jets and a rotation much like Tedia's Gengo was on the roof.

Another gasp went though the crowd, through a galaxy of sports fans, that turned into a roar. Li's son, a great roof runner's son, was on the roof!

"Gengo! Gengo! Gengo!" The screams were fed in from around the galaxy.

Maras watched Warkiza shift to best cover Larr and Gengo, assuming Tedia would pass off. There were no one in the way and Menzaille were all wobbly on the goal bar again. Tedia scoring were a sure thing! A sure thing. Just like in practice.

It wasn't. Tedia caught Maras's pass with that strange move Cailla couldn't copy. Then with another sinuous move he had the ball heading for Larr. It wasn't a clean pass since Warkiza was partially blocking him. So Tedia threw as low as he dared without getting roof contact and a bounce. Tedia wasn't worried. He'd decided Larr could catch anything. Big Luis was worried, and Tedia got a Latino earful that had him grinning.

All those years of playing back up to pretty much every superstar in the court paid off. Larr stretched, just catching the ball with the tip of his stick. There was no time for his usual slow careful shot. Warkiza was on him. Larr took the fast snap shot he and Roban had worked out in the simulations and scored. That sweet shot went right where he wanted it, the upper right – or was it the lower left – corner of the goal. Anyway where Menzaille's head had been a millisecond before when he'd guessed wrong and started moving the other way.

The home planet crowd went wild. Raising his voice to be heard over the uproar, Larr shouted in Latino on their private channel, "Hey kid! You still get your ComLan wrong?"

Tedia favored Larr with his lopsided grin. "Si, Señor Larr." Then he pointed to the team box where Rall was standing, clapping and shouting as loudly as anyone. His chance would come, but this goal had to be Larr's.

*****

Chapter 48

As the sports fans of the galaxy shouted, there was a stunned silence in Joran's media room.

At last he said, "Well, that ups the ante for my team! Now I need a line of roof runners." He lapsed into meditative silence.

"Tedia." Chan shook his head to clear it. "That's the one thing I've been really bitter about - why the hell didn't Isley send that kid back home. I mean, I know he's been doing better but no better than a lot of pros and that kid cost the team. Cost me! But now ...." He shook his head again. "A roof runner with moves like Roban."

Torin said, "That was like seeing Li up on the roof again. I had no idea Gengo would play up there."

Joran caught the tense. "You said would. You knew he could when you helped talk him into playing?"

Torin shook his head."I've heard Li sound off a few times about trying to train him and his refusal to even try. Rall must be persuasive."

"Mmm." How many of the players never even tried Joran wondered. Getting the roof back into the game would sure liven things up.

***

Carmen hugged Little Al as the roof runners left the roof for the floor so the team could pile on them. "Did you see your daddy? Didn't he do good?"

"Yah!" Little Al squirmed and nodded but he was confused. Everyone was yelling his dad's name. When people yelled at him, it meant he was in trouble, bad. This seemed to mean good.

"Larr! Larr! Larr!"

Did he have it wrong? When people yelled at him were they really happy? Little Al doubted that, but ...

"Larr! Larr! Larr!"

That noise wherever it was from was too loud. Little Al buried his face in Carmen's neck, but first he risked a peek at his grandfather. He was yelling at Larr, but he looked happy, not mad like he did when he yelled at him.

***

Cailla's eyes were glowing as she turned to her brother. "Did you ever see a sweeter setup to a goal? Maras got the assist."

"Tedia didn't do too bad either," Sven teased. He had Cailla's blond coloring but was a tall skinny beanpole of a man, tough and work hardened from a life of outdoor construction in a cold climate. Then he relented.

"Maras is having a good series."

Sven wasn't sure what he thought of Cailla's infatuation with Maras, but one thing was sure, it was lasting and Cailla was very cautious about trusting men.

Cailla was contrite. She felt disloyal to young Tedia. "I'm so glad things are working out for Tedia. He looks as happy up on the roof as I am in the court." She didn't know if Tedia was fitting in better now. She hadn't spoken to Maras since the series shifted back to Tamara, but she hadn't expected to. He would be completely focused on the games.

***

Bourara sure didn't seem to be in a hurry to get the game going again. That was realistic, Joran decided. If he tried the Suns would just call a time out. As it was, they were all in a serious huddle at the bench.

"Torin, what would you do now? You planned on Larr and all of a sudden you have an entire offensive line up there."

"Keep them from getting to the roof."

That was about what Joran had expected. "Going to get rough then?"

"Most likely."

"Tribe!" Joran said.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"That's where we could find a roof running line. Eli had no trouble on the roof in the Celebrity Game."

Slowly Torin shook his head. "We explored that idea when I played. There were no takers - too xenophobic."

"Eli isn't xenophobic."

"Eli is an outcast to most of the Tribe," Torin said bluntly.

There was that but Joran didn't intend to give up that quickly. He'd ask Eli. Revise that. He might ask Eli. What stage were Eli and Rhea at this week? Madly in love or not speaking to each other? He really didn't want to piss off his favorite pilot, and nothing got Rhea madder than Eli. Mmm. She'd iced him after the Celebrity Game, then lately the moron had been showing around images of his second son by his Tribe wife. The kid was cute, but it was a dumb move. Better give Rhea a couple weeks to cool down. They didn't have to sort roof runners out right now.

*****

Chapter 49

The strategy was rather simple, like many good strategies were in Gengo's opinion. Before the Suns could adapt they would each go for a goal, establish themselves as bona fide roof runners. Would this be his turn? Somehow that did not concern Gengo as he finally took his place at the face-off. He had reached the state of calm he needed to play. If it was his turn it would be. If not, not.

Interesting. Anhiorl looked excited, not worried in any way. There was a tremor again, but it was one of excitement. And how had he decided that, Gengo asked himself. Anhiorl did not give his emotions away any more than any good center would, and Anhiorl was a very good center. But Gengo would swear Anhiorl was excited.

What?! Tedia blinked in confusion as Parnilsak moved right past him to the other wing without so much as a look at him. Tedia looked at the Suns' box. No one was coming out. Mercan wasn't having a great night, so he didn't need roughing up by Parnilsak. He was being aggressive sure, but not enough to need settling down. Unless of course Scimkla was going to try to draw one or more of the roof runners into a fight to get them out of the game. A fight on the other side of the court would make any of them definitely a candidate for a 'third man in' call. Greg was in replacing Rundell after that check, and Rundell was with Doc in the locker room. Now that he knew him, Tedia sincerely doubted Greg could be lured into a fight. Mercan was in a foul mood, so luring him was possible.

Even as he thought that Isley said, "No fights Mercan!"

So that might be the intent. But Tedia was suspicious. As he watched Parnilsak stopped beside Ertwaine. They exchanged a few whispered words, then Parnilsak slapped him on the shoulder. Stranger and stranger. Parnilsak was not the shoulder slapping kind of team player. Now Ertwaine was moving this way. Tedia studied Ertwaine's face as he took his position opposite, but he didn't really know the man. Cool, collected. And something else. For just a moment Ertwaine was at an angle to see Anhiorl, and something, something passed between the men in that eye contact.

It would help if he felt secure on the team. But what had Larr said? You could speak to the coach, correct the coach if it was important. This was important and there wasn't time to hesitate. Tedia chose the whole team channel.

"I think we aren't the only ones who have been working on a surprise. I think Anhiorl and Ertwaine are going to run roof."

"Larr? Has Ertwaine said anything?" Isley's voice was sharp with concern.

For a moment stress froze Larr's mind, then he said, "Maybe. Just let me think."

Obligingly Mikey called to Bourara. "Sorry sir! Can you check this strap for me?" He always had a couple spots that were a thread or so from going because he liked his equipment worn and loose. "Sorry sir!"

Bourara sighed and headed for the goal. Tamara wouldn't be screwing around. They would want to keep momentum and no doubt Mikey would hear about the mess he kept his equipment in after the game.

Thanks, Mikey, I think, Isley said to himself. The only risk there was the equipment problem was probably real and would delay the game. At his nod the equipment manager Eddy headed out with a patch kit.

"Okay, I've got it. We were just talking a couple years ago, and Ertwaine asked me if Rall had tried to get me to run roof. I said yeah, he was really disgusted when I barfed. Then I asked if he'd ever tried. He said yeah, his dad pushed him to as a midget. He said he didn't barf, but he wasn't much good either and it never went any where."

But that was enough to build on, Isley thought. Ertwaine was good. And Gengo had never been on the roof either.

"Expect Anhiorl too," Gengo said. "I can't say why, just allow for it." Oh, this was a wonderful development. Anhiorl would be a worthy opponent on the roof.

"So what do we do?" Larr asked.

There was a moment's hesitation then Isley grinned, catching Scimkla's eye. "Shake hands and say welcome to the roof."

***

"What the hell was that about?" Joran demanded as the players returned to their positions.

"And why didn't Bourara call holding up the game?" Mai demanded restlessly bouncing her right leg.

"He was curious too?" Trevarr hazarded, a frown on his blond face. Even as he said it that sounded like a bad guess.

"No ..." Daron said slowly. "I'm pretty sure when Gengo turned to him he asked permission to 'honor his worthy opponent'. Then he did that bow, straightened, and shook Anhiorl's hand."

"Gengo is weird like that," Torin said.

"Well, Larr isn't," Chan said. "And he went out of position to slap Ertwaine on the shoulder and say something."

***

Gengo took the faceoff. Anhiorl was too excited. The man had tried to suppress it, but he'd been slightly off. Anhiorl had not confirmed or denied his 'welcome to the roof.' There had just been an amused, enigmatic smile. Well, let's see what that smile meant. Without any subterfuge Gengo headed for the roof. Anhiorl followed him up. Gengo landed on the roof and started for the goal. Anhiorl landed as well. This was too wonderful. A worthy opponent on the roof.

Gengo paid no attention to whether or not Larr and Tedia had joined him. No attention to whether or not Ertwaine was on the roof. Why lose focus on a certainty? If Anhiorl was here, Ertwaine would be on the roof somewhere. But now was his time. Gengo knew that now with a certainty. This was his time, and he had Anhiorl to defeat.

Bloody hell! Mikey usually didn't swear like that, but what exactly was he supposed to do with roof runners taking shots at him? Sure, he'd been a standing target occasionally for Larr, Gengo, and Tedia but he hadn't really tried. Tarell hadn't really tried. It hadn't mattered.

"Mikey!" Tarell's quiet voice came on a private channel. "You know you did better stopping the roof runners than I did. Just don't be stupid like Menzaille and go up on the bar. Stay where you are and keep your usual style. Remember, Larr said all that flopping around you do almost had him barfy again."

"You a mind reader?" Mikey asked, but that had helped. He focussed on the play.

Larr grinned at Ertwaine as they both hit the roof together and started for the goal matching each other stride for stride. This was great. He and Ertwaine loved playing each other off season, but for whatever reason Scimkla had him on the other side, and when you were a journeyman you shrugged and did what you were told to do. They had gone three strides when Warkiza reluctantly joined the roof. He looked distinctly perturbed by the crowd up here. Good!

Tedia slipped onto the roof almost unnoticed. Loping along he assessed the play. Anhiorl was pretty good. In about a second he would be close enough to stick check Gengo.

"Back here, Gengo." Tedia murmured. He was not in a position to shoot, but he could carry the play in.

Gengo half turned and passed off. Then he continued to move in, adjusting his trajectory to spread the play as much as possible. They could then take the shot from somewhere that would force Menzaille to be off balance.

Sensing what he was doing, Larr started moving towards the wall. Come on Warkiza, who are you covering? Okay, all of a sudden both Warkiza and Ertwaine were focussed on Tedia who had accelerated down the passage created. Larr increased his own jets. Could Tedia get past both of them?

This was too easy. Tedia watched the opposition moving in to block him. He established eye contact with Menzaille. Can you stop me at this angle? He started a shot that suddenly became a side pass to Gengo. He watched Menzaille lose balance trying to recover.

Now is my time. Gengo caught the pass and veered past Anhiorl, rolling just out of reach of a vicious swipe. Now. Wait. Now. In a motion almost as fluid as Tedia he shot and scored. The galaxy went wild.

"Gengo!"

"Gengo!"

"Gengo!"

*****

Chapter 50

"Why haven't Anhiorl and Ertwaine taken more shots from the roof?" Joran asked as the Suns piled onto Valskoa after a well deserved goal. Late second period the score was 8 to 2 for Tamara. Mikey was having a good night, but not perfect and all of the play was not on the roof. So Valskoa was getting plenty of action.

"Maras," Torin said economically. "He's surprisingly good stopping the roof." Not a shot had gotten near the goal. In fact, it looked a lot like Rall and Isley had been training him for that.

"To me they look like they are getting tired up on the roof too," Daron contributed.

Torin thought about that. They were running roof, and they were actually quite good. How could he tell if the mistakes they made were fatigue or inexperience?

"How so?" Joran asked.

"Anhiorl doesn't talk that much on his intercom in a regular game. And Ertwaine should be about half a stride ahead of Larr in three or four seconds. He's that much longer in the leg." Daron bit his lip, trying to think of other specifics, not just a feeling.

"Little stuff," Joran said. "I know what you mean. I can always tell when Perry and his wife have been fighting. He's never off rhythm on the drums, but somehow ..."

"Yeah. It's like that. No one who hasn't played them could tell."

***

"I thank you for the honor." Gengo gave Isley a formal bow. Indeed, it was an honor to be representing the team at the important half time show. It had been agreed in advance that each of the roof runners would speak to the media between periods. And this was his due. He had scored more goals than Larr. So he would go, and do his best to not disgrace the team by some poorly chosen word. But it would be impossible to speak well enough to please his father. The inevitable critical call post game weighed on him. But he would try to live up to the honor.

"Mercan, you're with him," Isley said with just a hint of a malicious gleam to his eyes. Mercan had finally settled down and focused his foul mood on playing. As a consequence he was having a brilliant game with two goals almost back to back.

"No bloody way!"

"You can't hide forever," Isley said reasonably. "Move it."

"You can blow them all a kiss!"

A chorus of voices rose in assorted razzing. Isley leveled a glare around the room that did absolutely no good

***

"Pass off when you get the ball and I'll have Maras beat you to a pulp," Larr warned Tedia on a private channel.

Tedia grinned. If he had a decent chance at all, he intended to try to score. The more senior players had enjoyed their moments. Now he would enjoy his. If he had the chance.

Gengo and Anhiorl took their places for the face-off with mutual respect. This was becoming a good game, Gengo thought. Anhiorl beat him by a fraction of a second and secured the ball, but Gengo knocked it loose. On a burst of jets he caught the loose ball and headed not for the roof but down mid court. Let Kip and Warkiza worry about that. Up or down? Right or left? It was all one. Except they would have to choose.

Mercan and Greg started in at a level with Gengo, keeping pace with him. Larr and Tedia headed for the roof without subterfuge. About a third of the way in Gengo passed to Mercan who had suddenly swerved towards center, almost blocking Anhiorl from moving further into the court. It was tricky with Anhiorl in the way, but maybe a goal would improve Mercan's mood, Gengo thought. The man really had not handled the open needling about his love life from Kenoff during that interview well at all, and now everyone was teasing him about the interview too.

Out of my way, Kip! Mercan glared at the last obstacle between himself and the goal. Alright. Stay right there, damn you! Mercan aimed himself right at Kip then applied a back wrenching torque to his jets at the last second, improving the torque by kicking Kip's calf. As he swerved down and further to center he shot for the floor. Menzaille got a piece of it, damn the bastard!

Greg beat Valskoa, Parnilsak, and Mercan to the bounce. Parnilsak moved in and tried to knock the ball loose with a very dirty check. Greg ignored him long enough to pass up to Tedia and watch Menzaille flip to the top bar. Then he turned to Parnilsak. He'd wanted to do this for a long, long time and Bourara had his hand up to call the penalty when the play was over. He'd make sure his hits were ranked as self defense. He was good at that.

Yes. This would work. In one fluid motion Tedia caught the pass then aimed the ball at the floor full force, less than a meter from the goal line. He watched Menzaille instinctively jerk back to avoid getting smacked in the head and completely lose footing. As Menzaille floated free, the ball went in. He had a roof runner goal!

***

"Tedia can do Rall's bounce shot," Chan said in awe as his teammates piled on Tedia.

Slowly Torin shook his head. "That wasn't Rall's bounce shot. The kid has worked out one of his own."

***

"Mikey, are you okay?" Tarell repeated with anxiety.

Mikey was quite sure he was not okay, but Tarell's voice helped him orient himself. That had been one hell of a shot, deflected at the last fraction of a second to smack into his face. After that, nothing for a brief interval. Now, he couldn't exactly see and he might just throw up. No. He would not throw up. Like any Octagla player he knew how to vomit weightless and not choke, but he wasn't sure of that right now. Woah. Mikey gagged. Better think of anything else fast.

"Mikey." Doc was in front of him now. "Focus on my face Mikey."

Will do. But where the hell is it? Mikey stared unseeing straight at Doc.

"Concussed," Doc said succinctly watching the blank stare and the sweating pallor.

Really? That was interesting in an abstract sort of way. Sort of. If it didn't make it worse he'd shake his head and see if that helped him think, but it seemed like a bad move.

With expert fingers Doc removed the mouth guard. "Open up as much as you can, Mikey." He inserted a sublingual tab that might help prevent vomiting as his medics moved in to help him.

Mikey felt both of his arms being grabbed, then the court started shifting even worse. He shut his eyes and prayed the tab would work.

"I'm giving Mikey a concussion assessment," Doc said as they reached the bench.

Resignedly Isley nodded. "Good luck." Then he turned. "Kevin, you're in." And there was way way too much game left.

*****

Chapter 51

Scimkla called a timeout with only two minutes left in the game. Mikey was on the bench but not back in the game and Kevin hadn't been able to stop Valskoa. So they had come to being only one goal behind. They needed two fast goals, and none by Tamara to avoid overtime. But he, and more importantly the team, were getting very tired of all this roof running. None of them was up to another period up there. If something didn't change, they might as well not bother with the overtime, skip the next game, and start their break when the buzzer sounded.

Scimkla studied their faces as he said routine words he knew no one was listening to. This wasn't to inspire them, it was to let them catch their breath. Warkiza looked exhausted, and half sick from chasing Tedia and Larr around, but there was no one to spell him off. In practice Kip had tried going up on the roof, taken three strides and vomited. The second string defense wasn't any better. At least Ertwaine was a pleasant surprise there. In practice Scimkla asked if he could handle the roof and got a quiet shrug. They'd tried it. He wasn't great, but he was improving each shift.

Anhiorl felt the coach's eyes and gave him a quiet smile. This was quite the game. When the season was over he intended to work on roof running until he was as good as Gengo. Right now he'd settle for containing him up there.

"Control the play. Keep them off the roof!" Scimkla said as the time out ended. "Parnilsak, stay inside left. Valskoa, see if the pair of you can tie it." Oh, he hoped they went ahead. He hoped.

***

Anhiorl surprised himself. He found the energy and focus to take the faceoff, passing to Valskoa. They needed the tying goal fast.

Parnilsak moved in too, ignoring Mercan's elbow to the throat. At least he knew what was with Mercan tonight. He'd laughed along with the rest of the Suns about the woman problems Mercan got needled about on the half time show. Mercan was always chippy, but rarely mean like this. Valskoa made the pass and he caught it, prepared to pass back as Valskoa set up one of the trajectories Kevin had been weak on.

Big Luis moved forward, uncertain which of the team's high scorers to focus on.

Parnilsak sensed the hesitation. He had the cleaner shot. He kept going. He had no objections to scoring the tying goal.

Instant decision. Not on my side! Big Luis closed in fast with a check that sent the ball wildly across court.

Wasn't Maras ever going to let up? Scimkla watched in disbelief as the huge man got the bounce it looked like he shouldn't have a chance on.

Were in the way! Maras gave Pelfran a twisting butt end not caring where it hit. Good. Now he could pass to Mercan. Mercan were the only one clear.

Scimkla's eyes were on Pelfran, watching the shock and pain on his face. The whistle that butt end should have got didn't happen. For once Bourara was blind!

Well, if that was the way Isley wanted the game to go into overtime, fine! Pelfran hadn't deserved that. He was one of the cleanest players in the league.

Play was moving fast into the Suns' end. Scimkla murmured "Pelfran, change off."

Pungliene started out of the box. "Larr or the kid?"

"Both if you can."

Pungliene applied full jets.

As Pelfran entered the box Scimkla asked quietly, "Need Doc?" He got a negative head shake.

Then their Doc was there, intent on Pelfran. He shrugged, letting Pelfran call it for the short time left in the period. He'd see how much he was lying after that.

Hell! Maras took a quick look at Big Luis. There weren't hardly any time left. What had Scimkla done that for? Pungliene, the Suns' enforcer weren't ever up to any good. An' neither him or Big Luis could move fast enough to do a thing.

Big Luis agreed with Maras's assessment and had the faster responses. Larr and Tedia were totally intent on positioning themselves for Mercan's pass, and the intercom was tied up with Roban calling that crucial play and getting the security goal. Pungliene was apparently heading for Larr, but Luis wasn't sure. Tedia could be on the same trajectory.

Big Luis gave a shrill sharp whistle that cut through the crowd noise. Heads up!!

Tedia paid absolutely no attention to the whistle. He assumed it was a fan.

Larr had heard it twice before and he took it seriously, looking hard and fast for trouble. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pungliene closing in fast and partly turned. It was terrifying, both knowing the intent and having Pungliene's mean mongrel face upside down at his waist and moving up. The blow came as Larr dodged. His motion helped, but it wasn't enough. Pungliene had been aiming for his arm hoping to at the least leave it too numb to use for the rest of the night and preferably break it. The contact was on his ribs instead, hard. Was that something breaking?

Mercan changed the game plan. "Tedia!"

Tedia let himself have the security goal. Then he turned to his friend Larr. He'd seen that blow better than anyone else.

Larr had instinctively shifted off the roof and raised his stick to give back what he got. Then he remembered what Isley had said about not starting the next bench clearing brawl. Isley was right. They didn't need one. They had the finals with Pendrae United to think about. That came first. He lowered his stick to a defensive posture.

"What's the matter Larr? Daddy didn't give you permission to fight?" Pungliene sneered.

Until tonight that plus the searing pain would have done it. As it was, he just said "That's right" and tried to find a less painful stance. Then Bourara was there directing Pungliene to the box. To Larr's total disgust he didn't get thrown out of the game in case of overtime.

Tedia wasn't impressed with the call either. He closed the distance and as Pungliene went past and said in a carrying voice, "What's the matter.? Do you always pick on the easy ones? Where I come from that's a coward!"

Pungliene stopped and tightened his grip on his stick. Mouthy brat, but the kid wasn't worth getting thrown out of the game for. If the game went to overtime there would be plenty of chances to get rid of the kid like Scimkla said. Not that it would be hard. He looked at the slight, almost effeminate figure. For sure the kid could roof run, but he was all mouth, not a fighter.

Big Luis' lips tightened. What kind of a chance did they have if Tedia got himself killed? He looked at Maras expecting him to already be en-route to protect his friend, but Maras was just standing there, leaning on his stick with a 'this should be good' expression. Big Luis started for the pair.

"Don't," Maras advised him on the team channel. "Isley said don't start nothin'. Tedia'll be fine."

"If you say so," Big Luis replied with open doubt.

With his easy grace Tedia moved well within Pungliene's range, making a come on, hit me motion with his hand.

Pungliene gave him a contemptuous look, his dark eyes hard, and started for the box.

Tedia said something else, this time soft enough that only those in the immediate vicinity could hear. Rundell and Mercan started to snicker at the same time Pungliene took a fast swing at Tedia.

Tedia were good, real good. Maras nodded approval as his new friend let the blow roll off his shoulder. Then he were in front of Pungliene again, sayin' somethin', doin' his 'c'mon, c'mon'. Mercan were laughing hard an' Rundell were trying hard not to.

Tedia didn't need to keep baiting. Pungliene lost his temper and took another swing which Tedia dodged.

Then Bourara intervened. "That's it! You're out of the game Pungliene!"

"But -"

"Want to make that the series?"

Bourara glared. He did not intend to let the last moments of this game degenerate into a brawl. No doubt there was some reason the Suns had Pungliene out this late in the game when they had been keeping it clean and playing good Octagla. After all, he did not have eyes in the back of his head so he missed the occasional thing. But he called the game, not the coaches.

"Move!"

Pungliene subsided, heading for the box. There would be other times to teach that kid to watch his mouth.

Bourara turned to Tedia. "Technically, you haven't done anything and you are new to the league. But I'm warning you - again! No more of this baiting a guy like Pungliene into taking a swing at you. That can turn into a brawl."

He was watching Tedia's face. He had been when Pungliene took the swings at him too. At that time there hadn't been a trace of fear and that bothered him. Anyone with sense was afraid of Pungliene. Now Tedia was standing there politely but it was not obvious if he was paying attention. He was staring towards Larr.

"Tedia! You listening or do you want a penalty too for contempt?"

"Sorry sir." The dreamy eyes focussed on Bourara's face. "But Larr is hurt bad." He didn't want to go any further, to say this ref botched a call.

Maras's complacency faded. Bourara weren't happy with Tedia and Bourara were a tough ref. He didn't take no nonsense. That were bad, real bad. Both as Tedia's friend and very conscious of his new role as team captain Maras closed the gap as fast as he could.

"Sumthin wrong?" Maras demanded.

Bourara returned his attention to the immediate vicinity. He had been watching two Tamara medics carefully helping Larr from the court. This wasn't for show either. Larr was rigid with pain and there was a slick of sweat on his tense face. So, he'd really blown the call but he had honestly thought Larr wasn't more than a little roughed up. Since Larr jetted into an Octagla court quite a few years ago now he had never once seen him give back less than he got. Larr hadn't been much of a trouble maker after his first year, but he was one of the tough guys in the league who didn't take anything. Isley must have had quite an interesting pre-game lecture for the team.

Now Bourara looked at Maras's frowning face. This man was one of the league's trouble makers and most likely the reason Scimkla had put Pungliene into the game. So there was no way he was going to let Maras push him at all.

"Only if Tedia here doesn't listen. So Maras would you consider explaining to Tedia that we play the game the way I call it?" Bourara had no idea why Maras was the new team captain and he didn't like it, but it was a fact he had to live with.

Maras's frown deepened. He wanted to make things right, but what were Bourara talkin' about? Course the ref called the game an' you kept your mouth shut even if it sucked. Tedia weren't dumb so's he'd know that. So what were Bourara really saying? Bourara got to have said something before he got here. How could he explain to Tedia, who didn't talk or understand so good, what he didn't get?

"Maras." It was a low, warning tone.

Tedia intervened in his soft singsong Comlan. He'd figured out early on that Maras was slow on words, and Bourara was obviously taking this as disagreement.

"It's alright, sir. I understand you perfectly and I won't cause trouble with Pungliene again." He wouldn't either. At least not that kind of open baiting. There were plenty of other ways to get a guy out of the game.

Tedia turned, smiling to Maras. "C'mon. We're holding up play!"

*****

Chapter 52

"Larr's hurt!"

The exclamation was involuntary and Carmen pressed a hand to her lips as she shot a worried look at Little Al. He was totally absorbed in some lurid pink and yellow and green toy with various moving parts and spinners. So she turned to his grandparents.

"He'll be fine," Rall said curtly.

Carmen didn't know if this was the voice of experience or wishful thinking. Ingar looked worried, but she didn't say a thing to contradict her husband.

"You'll just have to get used to these things, Carmen," Ingar said in a low voice.

That wasn't the first time she had implied there was something between her and Larr, and Carmen was staring to be embarrassed. But a public place was not the place to set Ingar straight, so Carmen let it pass.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Ingar said with no conviction at all. How many times had Rall minimized injuries and kept playing until he seriously aggravated them. Larr was just the same.

Carefully schooling her expression, Carmen squatted beside Little Al. "What does that do, Little Al?" She pointed to a yellow knob.

***

Tarell was paying no attention to Larr being helped towards the bench. He was watching Mikey standing beside him in the box and the anxiety on his face. It was not good. They had the security goal and Mikey had to learn to close a tough game even with an injury. Otherwise he would never get his confidence back after that bad loss the game before. The concussion screening said he had a concussion but was fit to play. Tarell opened a private channel to Isley.

"Send Mikey back out."

Isley, intent on Larr and wondering how much harm had been done, ignored Tarell. Larr reached the box assisted by the medics then was guided to the exit to the dressing room, Doc silent beside him. It had to be bad. Larr wasn't saying a thing, not even swearing.

"Isley!"

He focussed, frowning at the the interruption.

"Send Mikey out. He's rested from the concussion and he needs to get confidence in a crisis."

Isley did not answer immediately. He took a look at the strain on Mikey's face, then at Kevin in goal. Kevin as calm as always, but leaning on his goal stick like he needed to, despite being weightless.

"Mikey, you rested now? If you can close, Kevin looks tired."

"Try exhausted," Kevin chipped in on the team channel. He was a good lip reader and a good guesser. "I never was good for a full period."

Mikey swallowed hard. He couldn't let in two goals in the time left, could he? And the court wasn't spinning now.

"Sure." I hope.

***

Mikey got that shot well enough to smother the ball. Enough of this scrapping around the goal! Everybody could calm down. Gengo could take the faceoff and Menzaille could put up with the chaos. After all, how hard could that be? They were one man up although you sure couldn't tell it.

Isley used the break in play to contact Doc. "How's Larr?"

Doc gave Larr who looked about to speak a quelling look. "Fracture on two ribs. One minor, one not. I want the bad one checked out at the station hospital."

Larr gave Doc a stubborn look and shook his head.

"But he wants to watch the end of the game in the team box.

Isley looked at the clock. "That won't matter." He understood in a way Doc never could. This was Larr's night.

Bourara was just setting up the face off when Larr appeared in the doorway to the tunnel connecting the dressing room and the team box. Big Luis saw him first and saluted with his stick. There was pointing and whispering by the crowd, then the entire arena was on its feet for a standing ovation.

"Well, move out and wave if you can," Isley said. "Just don't think you're playing."

Larr grinned and cautiously moved out of the box, waving his stick to the crowd on his 'good' side. It still hurt like hell. His eyes first met Rall's, then Carmen's and his smile deepened.

***

Gengo moved back into position, forcing the deafening din to not exist. Allowing it, letting it flow through him, become him. Would Bourara ever release the ball? He could see the tension in every line of Anhiorl's face. The ball was released. The sticks slid along each other. It took forever, a breath.

The ball was in his net. Gengo passed to Greg who was filling in for Larr. Maybe Greg - or Marco filling in for Rundell for this last shift could get a game closing goal. Have their magic. Gengo half smiled at that idea.

Slowly the left wing worked into the Suns' end, as slowly as they could and still control the game. Greg made a pass to Marco. He shot. The ball was in transit when the buzzer sounded.

Tamara had the lead in the series.

*****

Chapter 53

About three times the usual number of reporters were jammed into the hall to see the roof runners, and Larr decided that for once Maras was smart carrying Silky around. He bent down to pick up Jellybean, swearing under his breath and hoping no one would notice the sweat that broke out on his face at the effort.

"Great game, Maras!" The press always got Maras out of the way fast since he wouldn't talk to them anyways.

Maras relaxed enough to nod and grunt.

"Tedia, great game! How long have you been a roof runner?" Tedia came next because they had figured out in the half time that he wasn't a talker. They got a smile and an averted face, and moved on to Larr. When would the other interesting one, Gengo come out? A casual group shot of the three roof runners would be great.

"Larr, why'd you take so long to show us all how well you can roof run?"

Larr answered that with a shrug. They knew they had to ask it, and they knew damned well they weren't getting an answer.

"How bad is your injury?"

"Minor," Larr lied with a smile. And if Jellybean squirmed and kicked that rib one more time, she was going on the floor and could get stepped on. "I'll be ready to win this series, then ready for Pendrae United."

Okay, that was it. "Down you go Jellybean. Heel." Larr dropped the startled pup the last few feet rather than bend and let the galaxy see the pain on his face. With almost 0 g the fall wouldn't hurt the pup.

"Come on, Maras, Tedia. I'm hungry."

Time to leave, fast. The three linked arms and turned before anyone could get another question out. They headed down the section of hall where the media was not allowed and Rall, Ingar, and Carmen were waiting. Carmen was holding Little Al.

"Da!" Little Al's face was one big grin as he held his arms out.

Larr gritted his teeth and took his son for an enthusiastic if painful hug."

"Are you alright?" Carmen asked with concern as she watched Larr's face.

"Just great for two broken ribs," he said softly although they were out of range for any audio pickup. "Now, don't say anything until we are well clear of this crowd." He started walking back towards the press.

"At least let me take Little Al!" Carmen didn't wait for an answer. "C'mere brat."

Rather to Larr's surprise Little Al went willingly.

Maras put a restraining hand on Larr's arm. "What you goin' back there for?" They done their thing. Someone else could talk to them press pests. Big Luis and Greg was there now.

"They're going to dig until they find out about Little Al," Larr said realistically. "I'd sooner they got my version, not Orchid's."

That were dumb. Maras's approach to the press was to not volunteer a syllable, and if they came up with anything on their own to deny it, true or not. Worked good. Tedia were smart, done the same. Usually Larr were smart too. If they hadn't found Orchid by now they wasn't gonna. All the same, he fell in beside Larr and grabbed hold of Tedia to drag him along too for moral support.

As a distraction that might work. Maras said, "Larr, you forgot to ask Carmen if we could go get Blinky."

Startled, Carmen shot a quick questioning glance at Larr and got a firm "no" shake of the head.

"Oh, that is kind of you, Maras, but to be honest Blinky isn't used to much excitement. He's not as young as your Silky you know. He's been exhausted and sleeping all day."

There were that to consider. Silky had been kind of pooped all day too. Maras shrugged. It had been an idea, and one hell of a lot better one than talking to the press. He noticed Rall hadn't budged a centimeter from where he were standing by the wall and he didn't look none too happy. Jaw set, Maras kept step with Larr. Stupid!

"Larr! Have you brought your son to introduce him to us?" Big Luis and Greg ceased to be of any interest.

It were Jerry with the big mouth. Well, Larr had done it. Jerry wouldn't quit now.

"That's right," Larr said easily. He went to take Little Al from Carmen, thought the better of it, and ruffled his son's hair. "Little Al, say hi to all these people."

Little Al took one look at the crowd and hid his face in Carmen's hair.

Carmen stroked him soothingly. "It's okay, Little Al. No one will hurt you."

At least the kid had some sense, Maras thought grimly and glared at Jerry.

Jerry ignored that. Maras always glared. "So why haven't we seen - is it Little Al? - before?" They had all been searching text and visual databases for any reference to Larr and his son.

"His name is Rallor. Same as mine and Rall's. So we call him Little Al." Larr took a deep breath and wished he'd kept it shallow. Maybe Maras had called this one right. Well, he had to keep talking since he had started it. "You haven't seen Little Al because my parents have been raising him."

Shit, Larr were just askin' for it. Maras intensified his scowl, aiming it at the entire group of reporters. It didn't work though. The question came.

"And Little Al's mother?" A number of eyes went questioningly to Carmen. She didn't look like the kind Larr went for, but you never knew about these things.

"Little Al's mother dumped me when she was three months pregnant, less than a month before the wedding was scheduled. She dumped Little Al the day he was born putting him into care of a nanny, then fought my custody." Larr had an expression on his face usually reserved for the court. Unlike Maras's scowl, it worked.

There was an awkward silence. To his own surprise, Larr filled it. "All the same, I loved her. More than was wise the way things turned out. But I loved her. I suppose I still do." He took Little Al out of Carmen's arms, holding him tight, remembering Orchid, the night Little Al was possibly conceived. Then Larr shook himself. Fool. "Anyways, on the remote chance she is listening, which I doubt, I hope she found what she wanted. It sure wasn't me."

Larr turned to go.

"And your friend here?"

It were Jerry with the big mouth again. Maras gave him a meaner than average scowl, then transferred his attention to Carmen with concern. Damn that Larr. He sure was dumb tonight. Now he'd dragged Carmen into this and she hadn't done nothin'. She were a nice lady and she wouldn't like this for sure. Any optimism Maras had on his match making disappeared. Maybe Larr's ribs was busted more than he let on. Hurt enough and that could distract a man.

Larr turned back, his expression guarded. "Carmen isn't part of this." Obviously no one believed him. Hell! He tried again. "We only met a few days ago. Maras lost his pup and Carmen found him." He turned apologetically to Carmen, but to judge by her expression she seemed to be ignoring the press and only to be concerned about him. Little Al squirmed again, kicking the rib and temporarily taking Larr's breath away.

"Oh Larr, quit being tough and give him to me!" Without waiting for an answer Carmen took Little Al who immediately calmed down, hiding his face in her hair again.

"Carmen, are you from here on the space station then?" a young woman asked. "I think I've seen you eating at La Fete".

"That's a favorite of mine," Carmen agreed with a smile. Julia could stand a free endorsement. "I'm an accounting administrator. Is that boring enough?"

Everyone laughed.

Little Al cautiously looked around to see what was funny. Nothing he could see so he buried his face again.

In spite of the situation Larr smiled. Little Al and Carmen looked so sweet together like that. "Okay, that's it for questions. You can see Little Al adores Carmen. As for Carmen and me - it's too soon to say anything. I've had a real good lesson in caution. So, good night."

Without thinking he put the easier to move arm protectively around Carmen and turned her away.

Carmen and me? Carmen was glad to be turned away from the cameras so they couldn't see her flushing confusion. Was Ingar right Larr wasn't just being a gentleman?

Maras were watching her face. Maybe it weren't so bad if it turned out good.

They were spared shouted questions by Mercan cautiously poking his head out the door with Gengo. His inclination to sleep in the dressing room had been tempered by the loving messages waiting for him from Kaith. Besides, Gengo had quietly told him he had to go out, otherwise the other teams would use his women problems against him. Somehow you just didn't argue with Gengo when he used that quiet voice.

Kaith came flying towards him from her position as close to the door as you could be in the family area, her face glowing. "You were wonderful!!"

"Just for you Kaith." He pulled her to him for a kiss that focussed all the cameras.

"Gengo, why haven't you roof run before?" Was the immediate question from all voices when Kaith and Mercan finally came up for air.

"I never felt the need to try," he said in that same calm voice. A truth, a lie. Had he wanted as much as he had not wanted? Had he been honoring his father or denying him? Had he been afraid? No. That at least he was sure of. He had always known he could. "But now I am ready to help us win the three-peat." One must always appear confident. "Come on, Mercan, let's go."

"Carmen," Larr said when they were back by Rall and Ingar and well out of microphone range, "Doc is meeting me at the hospital. One rib needs more treatment than he can do. So I have to cancel that supper date."

Date? Larr was calling their having supper a supper date? Carmen mentally flinched at the way she must look after spending most of the game playing with Little Al so his grandparents could focus on the game. Her hair was a mess and he'd smeared cookie all over her best top.

"Don't be sorry. Just take care of yourself!" She handed a reluctant Little Al to Ingar.

Larr was suddenly self conscious, something rare for him. "If you don't mind, maybe we could try again after next game? You might even get to Big Luis's party." That was as close as he intended to get to saying that if they won they would have won the semi finals. To say more would be bad luck.

Carmen took a deep breath as she studied the floor. Letting it out slowly she met Larr's eyes. "Thank you, Larr. I'd like that."

*****

Chapter 54

Larr looked at the call identifier. Orchid. So someone had told her to watch a replay of the post game show. He put the call on hold and looked at his friends.

"It's Orchid."

Roban rose from his seat on the bed. "We'll go."

Tedia followed him, rising gracefully from the floor where he was playing with Little Al and the dogs.

Maras stayed solidly sprawled on the sofa. "Want us to stay?"

Larr nodded grateful for the offer of support he didn't dare ask for. He did not want to take this call alone. "Tedia, can you take Little Al into the bathroom and help him play with his boats in the sink?"

Larr knew Little Al wouldn't understand everything said, but he understood more and more each day and he was good at emotional tone. The little guy didn't need to hear his name in an argument.

"Si, Larr." Tedia reached down to scoop up Little Al. "C'mon brat. Let's play boats." Then to Larr with a grimace, "I'll change him too."

"Thanks, Tedia."

Roban hesitated, then followed Tedia. He didn't want to hear this.

Maras looked at the retreating backs impassively, then at Larr. "Record it. She's gonna."

Larr hesitated, then touched the record button and took the call off hold.

"Orchid."

He didn't intend to help her beyond that. Besides he didn't trust his voice. Galaxy that woman was stunning. She was wearing her bedroom makeup, a low cut dress, and the lights were dim. What time would it be where she was on Surana? Late morning. That helped his resolve.

"Hello, Larr. I saw the game. You were great."

Larr nodded. Maybe she saw a thirty second clip of his two goals.

"So, who's your new friend?"

Not 'How's Little Al?'. It wouldn't take five steps to get him from the bathroom. Not 'How badly hurt are you?'. Just 'Who's your new friend?'. That helped even more.

"A friend," Larr said neutrally. "So how is it going for you?"

"I've just signed a modeling contract with Surana Petals."

Terrific. That was a galaxy wide brand of cosmetics. He wouldn't be able to watch holovision without seeing Orchid.

"Congratulations." Your turn Orchid.

"About your new 'friend' ..."

"None of your business, Orchid." There was warning in Larr's voice this time.

"I'm your spouse, Larr." There was warning in Orchid's too. "You said on holovision you still love me."

"Ex-spouse. We were never married and you got your settlement for common-law." She was probably scared Carmen would cut into his voluntary payments above the legal requirement. "And yes, I will always love you. Now," Larr's voice was turning hard, "since that doesn't mean a damn thing to you, don't push your luck."

"Al is our son. Your 'friend' might not like some things I could say to the media."

"Blackmail already Orchid?" Larr had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen at that. He had never accused her of blackmail before.

"You want Larr to do a DNA test to prove Little Al is his son?" Maras demanded with a scowl as he moved into sight.

Something undefinable crossed that beautiful face. It could have been alarm. It could have been fury that the conversation wasn't private.

"You don't have any doubts, do you Larr?" Orchid purred with her best bedroom look.

"Wrong, Orchid. I don't care which isn't the same thing at all. Little Al is a wonderful kid and a joy in my life. So I'll say it again. Don't push your luck. Now, let me know if you ever want any holograms of Little Al." With that parting shot he disconnected.

Maras nodded approval. "You done good."

Right. As soon as the sweat stopped pouring down his back it was all fine.

"How 'bout Tedia takes Little Al to your mom for a bit and we look at that again before we gotta go to the team meeting."

"Why?" Larr demanded.

"To look at Orchid," Maras said simply with a dreamy look on his face. "She's something."

Larr laughed and rose. "You're on!" That might just finish the Orchid cure. "But let Tedia get back first."

***

"Little Al, don't chew on Jellybean's ear!" Larr scooped up his son. "How would you like it if Jellybean chewed on your ear?" He gave Little Al's ear a gentle tug, but he couldn't tell if Little Al got the sense of that or not.

"Focus!" Tarell said as Ennup 10 set up a press into the Pendrae United end. They were obviously setting up Lou R.. Jaik tried to block him and intercept the ball but failed.

"Nice move Lou," Larr said with appreciation. "Keep going ... keep going ..."

They were all rooting for Ennup 10. It wasn't that they wanted or expected to play Ennup 10. It was that they wanted the series to go seven games so Pendrae United was tired. Not a man in the room allowed the mental option that they still had a game to win. They had Menzaille's number now. But they wanted the other series to go seven games and Ennup 10 had to win or it would end in five.

"Ferdik's got him!" Maras pronounced.

Big Luis nodded agreement.

"Don't be so sure," Larr warned as Lou R. did one of his famous dekes. Then he was moving in fast on Arrof. The goal was to the lower right.

"Think you would have got that one, Tarell?"

"No." Tarell reached for his beer. "Even Menzaille wouldn't have."

"Do you think Lou will really retire after playoffs?" Roban asked.

Tedia took a handful of protein cubes and fed one to Jellybean. He couldn't quite believe he was squished into Maras's largest on the space station but still small sitting room along with Roban, Larr, Big Luis, Tarell, Greg, and Marco whle they were casually discussing a two time Hall of Famer.

Larr nodded. "He means it all right. I talked to him when we were on Gingezel. He called me to give me a bad time about taking so long to try the roof."

"Who do you think will replace him?" Tarell mused.

"Turq," Maras said succinctly. "He's wasted on Laurion."

"I don't think so," Tarell said as he looked at Roban who hesitated then shrugged.

"Ok. What do you two know that I don't?" Larr demanded. "Little Al, quit squirming and kicking! You can go back down if you don't bother Jellybean and Tedia will give you a protein cube."

Without Little Al to play with Jellybean had moved to safety and was napping with Silky. Atikujla was in Roban's lap watching everything at once.

Tedia gave his lopsided grin. "C'mere Little Al." He stretched out his arms. He liked kids.

Larr returned his attention to Tarell and Roban who were obviously having a silent conversation with a lot of shrugs.

"Spill it."

Tarell shrugged again. "Word won't be released until the playoffs are over, but Joran's got an expansion franchise for Gingezel. We know because he's asked Daron to be assistant coach and we all know Daron and Turq are close. So our bet is Turq will go there."

Larr whistled, then realized Greg and Marco weren't at all surprised. Marco had been in on the gossip circuit again some how. He always was.

Maras sat up straight. "Who's gonna be the main coach?"

"Maybe Torin."

"What happens to us?" Maras demanded. "Marti's part of the Gingezel consortium."

Roban shook his head. "She can't be involved. Conflict of interest. Joran tried to get Nevin interested but he's tied up with that deep space station. So Joran is flying the deal solo."

Tarell nodded confirmation. "Nevin really is heavily financially committed to that deep space station.

Maras shrugged off any financial concerns for Joran. "Team at Gingezel's a sure thing. Think what they could charge for a box." Maras meditated while the referee were fussing around. "So we're gonna play Gingezel with Torin as coach.

"Maybe Torin," Roban corrected.

Maras looked at Marco who shrugged. If Marco shrugged, then for real nobody knew.

"Mai will know. I'll call her after the game." Maras brightened. He hadn't talked to Mai's little girl Kimi for a long time. Then worried he turned to Roban "What you gonna do, Roban? Daron will ask for you."

Roban shook his head. "Neither of us could work like that. I told him to go for the job. Tamara is my team."

Maras nodded approval and turned his attention to the game. "Lou's got the ball again."

They watched as Ennup 10 worked in and Lou scored again on Arrof.

"Only down three now," Larr said.

***

Larr thumped his beer can down on the table in disgust as the final buzzer sounded. "Trust Ennup 10 to fold at the end of the game."

"Lou didn't," Tarell said. "At least he'll have game MVP to retire on."

"And we'll be up against a rested Pendrae United," Larr scowled then cautiously reached down for Little Al. "C'mon. Time to feed you," Although he wasn't sure Little Al would eat with all the chewing on protein cubes he'd been doing. Carefully he stood up with Little Al in his arms. Damn those ribs. The space station medical staff was doing enhanced regeneration, but they said he couldn't play next game and Doc was backing them. He turned to his team mates. "I'll see you at the team meeting." Injured list or not he was going.

In a perfectly foul mood Larr said, "Jellybean, heel."

*****

Chapter 55

"Hi Maras!"

Mai was in her clinic uniform of a sweatshirt and leggings. The top was oversized so she could lift it easily to nurse Tori. It made her look ridiculously tiny and adorable. She sure was a cutie, Maras thought as he beamed and said nothing.

"Rori is the one home with Kimi and Tori. I have to really focus here at the clinic for a couple hours."

"Wanted you not Kimi, an' won't waste your time. Torin going to coach for Joran?"

Mai shook her head. "No luck, Maras. My brother would kill me. Now, since I have you, you overworked your elbow injury last game. How is it?"

"A little sore," Maras grudgingly admitted.

"Move it." Mai went through a series of motions and watched Maras try to duplicate them "What is Eddie having you do?"

"The usual."

"An elbow like that is tricky, and I don't like the way you did this." Mai did a rotating extension. "Have Eddie give Trevarr a call in an hour. I recorded you so Trevarr can take a look. Can you strip that arm and let me see where you have a pressure band?" Eddie and Doc would have him using one to change the muscle pressure on the elbow. She waited patiently while Maras slowly and obviously painfully removed his shirt.

"Okay, lets see." Mai studied the massive muscular arm. "Mmm. Try moving the band down one of my - not your- finger widths." Again she waited. "Good. Now, do that extension that was a problem."

Maras repeated it with noticeable relief. "Better, Mai!"

"Great! Use a marker that won't wash off and draw exactly where to put it."

"Thanks. Now I'll call my best girl." He hadn't talked to Kimi for days.

"Make that both your best girls. Cailla says she hasn't heard from you since you got to Tamara. Gotta run!" Mai disconnected.

***

"Maras! Good of you to call." Rori ran a slightly harassed hand over his face. He'd give Tori less than twenty seconds in his baby carrier seat before he started to scream. "Thanks for getting Kimi into the concept of curfew." Rori managed to smile, but it turned into a grimace as, six seconds early, Tori started to scream. Next he'd turn purple from not breathing.

"Tori still got troubles?" Maras asked with concern. Were a cute little guy, but Mai shouldn't have brought him up to the space station. All this time now an' the little guy were still scared.

"Not if I hold him steady, but some things need two hands and he screams in a backpack."

"Needs to hear your heart. Get one of them carrier sling thingies what go across your chest. Worked for my kid sister what cried a lot. Kid gets bumped now and again, but she never cared."

"A what? Hold on Maras." He moved to where Tori was and picked him up. "Oh Tori, no one is hurting you, and if you'd stop screaming your asthma would be better and you wouldn't scare yourself with it." He rubbed the little chest. "Shh. Calm down."

Objective achieved, Tori considered life. He hadn't really stopped breathing yet and yelling didn't feel so good. He stopped. Rori stopped rubbing him. He screamed again.

Rori tried to hold and rub with one arm, and use the compad with the other. "A what?" He'd try anything right now.

"A baby thingy what holds Tori just like your arm is now. Maybe they's just on Terra. I'll look for you."

"Got time?"

"Nope. Got a sister who loves to shop anything and she can find something on the hyperweb what will ship."

"Thanks then!" Rori touched the house monitor contact. "Kimi, come talk to Maras!"

"Maras!!"

He could hear the squeal from out of sight and the clatter of little feet that must be in boots. Then the living room comm unit was turned on and there she was, in a yellow sweatshirt printed with purple and green fish, green leggings, and huge boots.

"How's my best girl?" To Maras Kimi looked a little better, not so tired and cranky, and her thumb was not in her mouth. "You keeping curfew?"

Kimi nodded solemnly. "And Rori is teaching me to catch with my Octagla stick." Her face fell. "Only it's too big a ball, not for real." Her mouth turned down.

"First you gotta practice the easy stuff, then work up slow."

"You practice lots?"

"Three times a day, sometimes extra. Gotta do things over and over. An' I started out with a big ball too."

As Kimi nodded solemnly, Silky tugged at his pant leg. Had he introduced Kimi and Silky? Quite probably not.

"Kimi, you want to meet my new friend Silky? She's real cute."

Kimi's thumb went in her mouth. Maras kept saying she was his best girl then he kept getting new girlfriends! They was old girls, like that was different. But she wanted to be the one to make sand castles on the beach and get pushed on a swing. The only one.

"She's a real cute doggie. Silky! Let go! Those are new pants!"

Doggie? The thumb came out. "You got a dog?"

"A paniel pup. An' she's misbehavin'. Silky! Let go!" Desperate, Maras reached in his pouch for a doggie bit. "Be a good girl and come up here."

Silky let go of his pant leg. All she really wanted was to get his attention.

Maras picked her up. "Kimi, this is Silky. Silky, this is Kimi."

Oh, Silky was cute! How she wanted a puppy but Mai said no, that she had the fish Maras and Roban gave her and that was enough. "Will you bring her here for when you are training?" Maybe she and Silky could play then.

"Sure will."

Silky finished the doggie bit and started licking Maras.

"Look, Kimi, it's almost practice time and I gotta go. You practice good with your daddy."

"Yes." Kimi nodded solemnly. "Bye." She blew him a kiss like she'd seen people do on holovision then watched the image go away. She'd go practice with that big ball right now.

"Rori! Rori!"

Tori, who had just dozed off, woke and started to scream.

***

Maras looked at his time strip. Mai were gonna get down on him if he didn't call Cailla. Shoulda' called but he'd kinda been thinkin' it would be nicest for her to call first. He liked that. Well, he had two minutes.

"Maras!"

The surprise and delight on Cailla's face removed any reservations he had about making the call. Shoulda' done it earlier when there were more time.

"You started the Nebula practices yet?"

"Tomorrow. You caught me packing for the space station. I hear I have a couple hot young wingers looking for my spot."

"You'll do fine," Maras reassured her.

"And what about you?"

"Isley and Rall are out to kill us."

"Mmm." Cailla made a sympathetic face. "And your elbow?"

"Mai just helped a bit. Neuroblock's holding it good enough. Look, I'm late for a practice. Send me your space station number."

"Will do."

Maras had hoped for the 'bye love' or a blown kiss, but she were gone. An' he'd better be too!

*****

Chapter 56

They were an injury plagued team. That was all there was to it. Isley ran his eye up and down the dressing room. First Daron with his broken neck. Then Ranga with a shattered hand from that damned Celebrity Game. Then the nerve damage to Rundell's wrist and Chan having to substitute. Then Chan space sick after being the hero in overtime getting them into the semi-finals. Maras with that elbow. Isley did hope that the consultation Eddie and Doc had done with Trevarr made the man more comfortable. Red with a fractured rib.

And now Larr, just when the roof running was working! Scimkla had really dropped in his estimation for taking Larr out like that. Doc had gone over the scans with him, and he'd reluctantly agreed that Larr was on the injured list. Even with full rest and the aggressive regeneration he would still have a problem for the finals. If they made it to the finals.

Tedia and Gengo would still run roof of course, but Anhiorl was proving remarkably effective up there neutralizing Gengo. That put a lot of pressure on Tedia. And it was going to be hard to rearrange the team to both fill in for Larr and to rest Rundell's wrist. Isley did not intend to make a practice of moving from one level of the finals to another at the cost of a good man. Still, there was no way to cope but to have Rishic do part time first string helping out Greg and Marco.

The dressing room door opened and Isley looked up with a frown that deepened when he saw who was there.

"And what are you doing here?!"

"Where the hell is my gear? Eddie -"

Isley interrupted Larr with an icy glare. "You are supposed to be in the team box with Rall!"

"Am I? I know Doc thinks I shouldn't play, but it won't take me out for next series like it did Chan. And it's my life. That's what I told the staff at the hospital when I went down for a stronger anesthetic than Doc uses. The specialist called in the administrator. She made me sign a release form, but they didn't refuse to treat me." Larr shoved his compad in Isley's face. "The team can have a copy too. But I'm playing."

They glared at each other.

"Isley, I know I'll pay. What they gave me is legal. No league rules are broken and it should last the game. I'm bound so tight I can hardly breath. And tomorrow will be hell." The aggression went out of Larr's voice. "But if we lose this one I could well have until next season to recover. So I'm joining Tedia and Gengo on the roof. Are you stopping me?"

This was definitely a new Larr.

"Suit up."

***

"Larr is suited!" Chan looked at Daron who just stared back.

"Shouldn't he be?" Joran asked, not taking his eyes off the two teams as they did circuits of the Octagla court. Now that he had a team he was noticing all sorts of details he never thought of before. Like Tamara used a choreography routine he would swear was created by Barraynt. He'd have to ask Marti.

"Roban said Doc had him on the injured list and he wasn't doing the special between game practices with Tedia and Gengo. He was at the clinic instead for regeneration. Doc wanted optimal healing for the finals."

"If they're in the finals," Joran said without thinking. "How do you know if Menzaille is having a shut out tonight?"

"You do not want Menzaille," Torin said firmly as the two teams came to rest on the court floor, facing each other.

"Uh huh. Give me an alternative." That would shut Torin up.

"Janus," Daron said.

"Who the hell is he?" Joran took his eyes off the holovision. There were never any surprises in the introduction. Daron looked comfortable and relaxed if tiny and emaciated. He'd have to talk to his chef about that, how to make food that would tempt him but be easy to eat with poor motor control. At least he looked relatively stable sitting supported by the custom high back chair he and Knett had chosen.

"Rujjipet Planetary Pro, playing for Oceana." Oceana was Rujjipet's farm team.

"How do you know him?" Torin asked quietly. Daron wouldn't suggest someone who wasn't very very good.

"He's Turq's second cousin. Bigger, heavier boned, comparable moves and reflexes."

"So why is he planetary?" Joran asked.

Daron made a disgusted face. "We warned him. But he got independent and wouldn't listen to Turq and me when he signed. Rujjipet really has a hold on him and they won't need him Galactic for at least two years."

"Turq's contract stinks too," Joran said. "My legal staff won't thank me for another problem."

"Turq's was the learning curve," Daron said. "That's why he tried to talk to Janus."

"This Janus is younger then?"

"Year and a half."

"Your legal staff is up to this," Torin said. "Send me a few games, Daron."

"You mean my pockets are deep enough!" Joran said with a laugh. "We're talking big buy-outs and you know it, Torin." And it kept sounding more and more like Torin was his coach.

***

Gengo took the face off and passed to the waiting Tedia. There was an unspoken agreement that they needed to establish dominance early in the game and Tedia would do it. However Tedia hadn't gone two meters before Parnilsak was on him, obviously determined to keep him from going to the roof.

Fine, Tedia thought with a grimace. We'll settle a few things later. He snapped a pass to Mercan and thought about the problem in front of him. Parnilsak had been effective blocking him part of last game. And he had a few scores to settle, for himself and Roban but it could be later.

Mercan had problems of his own. Valskoa and Ertwaine were on him. Valskoa shouldn't be, but he was obviously greedy tonight. Well, he'd out-maneuvered Valskoa before. Mercan applied torque, a burst of jets. Yes! Clear, and Kip was focussed on him, not Rundell who was a bit back and near the wall. Not too far back for a shot. Mercan passed off just as Ertwaine connected with a stick check.

The resulting pass was off, but Rundell netted it on a burst of jets, using the momentum for a snap shot. Oh hell! Menzaille was having one of those nights. At least he only got a piece of it. Rundell watched as Larr beat Pelfran to the ball.

Not me, not tonight, Larr thought. Not being this bound up, otherwise he would have tried the twist to make the shot.

"Tedia." Roban murmured, saving Larr having to twist and look. He succinctly gave coordinates.

What the hell was the kid doing down there almost at the floor all of a sudden? Larr mentally shrugged and passed as soon as he had Tedia in his peripheral vision. Then he realized why Tedia was there. He was level with Warkiza's feet. He watched as Tedia made a well screened shot and scored. Then he grinned as Menzaille started to swear at Warkiza.

***

"Wow! Mikey was as hot as Menzaille!" Elvira said as the period ended Tamara 2 Suns 1. She didn't mention that Tedia, Ranga's replacement had been great.

"He'll fade."

"Well, you're doing a great job of cheering your team on," Elvira said as she plopped a bowl of spicy snack chips onto Ranga's lap.

He picked them up with his good hand and put them back on the table.

"I did not invite you out of the hospital to my suite to sulk." Elvira put the bowl back in his lap. "I'd give you a beer to wash it down, but no-neck Knett said no way with the antidepressant they have you on." She tucked her feet up under herself and swiveled on the couch to face Ranga. His eyes looked as broody as Ghen's could. "Are the tabs totally useless, or have you figured out how to override them with one of your sulks?"

Ranga's good hand dipped into the bowl, not to get some chips to eat but to throw some at her.

Elvira guessed that move and caught his wrist, digging her thumb into a tendon, and poising the nails of her fingers to scratch, denting the skin as warning.

"Bad manners Ranga. I'll take you back to the clinic!"

She would too. He let his hand relax.

"Sorry."

She didn't let go as she studied his face. Something was really wrong, and it wasn't just that his skin was more sallow than usual. That has been worse when he came out of the anesthetic.

"Get your damned nails out of my skin, Elvira!"

She released her grip, picked up a red colored chip, and held it up to his firmly closed mouth.

"Be a good guest."

She'd just keep at him. Ranga took the easy route and opened his mouth.

Elvira took a green one for herself. "That's one thing you can say for this place. Even if the weather is lousy this time of year, the food is great. Are we reduced to talking about the weather and food?"

"You're the one who wants to talk."

"Ranga. I'm warning you!"

It slowly dawned on Ranga through his self absorption that she was more than just mad at him. Something had Elvira really upset. Absentmindedly he picked up another chip.

"Elvira, what are you worried about?" It sure wasn't him.

"Daron. I was over at Joran's today checking out his suite. It's gorgeous - all that turquoise Maillie loved, and white, and earthy browns and greens. And I know Knett is there. But ..." Tears collected on her perfectly mascara coated lashes and Elvira swallowed hard. "But Ranga, it suddenly got real. He'll probably be like this for the rest of his life. Disabled and stuck there."

Ranga did not say that a lot of people were worse off and in tenements without care. What she said wasn't exactly what she meant. Elvira was a realist to the core. What she meant was this was supposed to be Daron's year, Daron's playoffs. The year he got another playoff MVP and his jersey in the Hall of Fame again. Maybe a three-peat ring. And it wouldn't happen.

It wouldn't ever happen because of him. He wasn't cut out to be a drug lord's son. All this - this disaster - was his fault for getting involved with Zloenni. And costing the team the series was both the worst and the least of it. Ghen and Devon wouldn't let this go without reprisals. There would be retaliations for the reprisals. People would be killed, maybe an all out drug war. And it would all be his fault.

"Elvira, can I put this bowl on the table and can I just hold you for a while?"

*****

Chapter 57

I am Gengo. But who is Gengo? A thought. A leaf in the wind, trembling like that leaf as the wind that was the roar of the crowd went past. Gengo studied his stick critically. That tremor would never do. He had to be calm. How had his father ever handled all of those crucial playoff games? Gengo's focus wavered, and for the first time in his life he felt a bond with, and sympathy for his father. His father had stood like this, in a game like this. Somehow, that helped. Gengo watched the tremor subside.

He looked up to see Anhiorl watching. You are used to this Anhiorl. Gengo knew the statistics, how many playoff games Anhiorl had been in, how many he had helped win. How many had been the crucial game of a series like this. Gengo had been in key games but they were not Galactic. He knew now just what a difference that made. Well, we will see. Calm now he watched Bourara approach. The light pattern shifted as Bourara prepared to release the ball. Steady now, Gengo was the ball, the shifting lights. He took the face-off easily.

As planned Gengo passed off to Greg who was in for Rundell and headed for the Suns' end, keeping at mid court height so his options were open. Assuming his options were open. Anhiorl was about to be a nuisance again. Gengo shifted left and suddenly the court was swinging in his vision and his breath went rapid and shallow. Damn! He forced himself to take a deep breath fighting a temporary blackness. Not now. Not now. Wishing had never helped, and it didn't now. He was going to crash.

"Red, cover for me!" Gengo didn't waste time asking Isley to put Red in. Play was moving too fast. He veered for the team box as fast as his disorientation would allow.

Red gave Isley a confused almost panicky look. He hadn't had much first string work since his cracked rib.

"You're in." Isley had no idea what was going on, but you did not argue with a player pulling himself.

"Thanks Red," Gengo said as they passed each other. "You can do it." He slapped Red on the arm.

"What -" Isley started to ask.

Doc cut him short. "Dressing room, Gengo."

Terrific. What now! Isley tried to refocus on the game.

***

Greg ignored the line change and kept working into the Suns' end of the court. That was the advantage of being a sub. You got used to playing whatever you got thrown into. Larr was making good progress into the court too. Maybe ... A second later Roban confirmed his judgement, that Larr should take the play, preferably a shot. Greg passed off.

Larr pivoted to get the pass and saw Red, not Gengo in his peripheral vision. What the hell? How had he missed that change? Maybe the damned stuff they gave him at the clinic should be on the banned list. He gave fleeting thought to Gengo, assumed there had been a hit he'd missed, and focussed on Warkiza. With Red in the game, should he and Tedia play roof of not? Warkiza seemed to not be sure either. Well, let's see if you can be two places at once. Mercan was keeping Kip busy, so that was what Warkiza would have to be.

Warkiza and Menzaille had obviously decided the roof runners were the threat, not Red. Larr waited until they were committed.

"Red!"

It was as fast a pass as he could manage all bound up and it did not give either Warkiza or Menzaille time to recover. Red scored easily.

***

Doc didn't bother to ask Gengo if he was fine. He wasn't. "You space sick?" It was more than a panic attack and space sick hit players different.

"No."

The single syllable hung in the air. "This has happened before then?"

"Yes. There is no diagnosis, only exclusion. I - I just crash. I've had the neurological and metabolic scans. I \- I hoped it wouldn't happen. That was why I asked Isley to use me second string. But .." Gengo shrugged. He wasn't playing second string.

Doc murmured on a private channel, "Isley, keep Red in for the period." Maybe the game. He turned. "Gengo, will time here help? I know you meditate a lot."

He was starting to recover away from all the noise and motion. "Five would help."

"You've got it, or more. Come out when you're ready to play."

***

"What?" Isley asked as Doc reappeared without Gengo. He got a shrug as an answer. Terrific.

"Until he says he's fine for pressure, put him back on second string. Gengo isn't faking whatever it is." Doc was searching his memory. He didn't think he'd missed anything in the medical files transferred.

Isley nodded and murmured in Red's private channel. "You're carrying first string alone for the period."

High on the fast goal, Red gave Isley a thumbs up.

Gengo on second string. Isley had been thinking about that while Gengo and Doc were in the dressing room. There might be advantages. And that goal showed there was an advantage to keeping Red on first string. As far as he knew, Scimkla didn't have any roof runners on his second string. He would have brought them up to first string by now if he did. Isley turned to Sandlik.

"It looks like first string was too much for Gengo, so you have a roof runner to work into your plays." He watched Sandlik's eyes light up. The magic. "Have fun."

***

He couldn't do it. His calm center was shattered, destroyed. He had let Coach Isley down after the honor of being placed on the team. He had disgraced his family. Gengo could hear his father's voice, the recriminations that would come. The fact this was not his fault did not matter. He was a disgrace. His call tone sounded.

"Gengo." Isley kept his voice crisp. The five minutes was now six, and he could imagine Gengo's state of mind. Li was too hard on his son. "You are back on second string. I want to see what Scimkla does if he has roof running with both strings. He hasn't got the manpower to handle it. Talk to Sandlik now. Create some magic." Gengo would know what he meant. Isley broke off.

No wonder Isley was a legend as a coach. Gengo drew a slow breath, more awed than calm. Yes. He would pull himself together and do Isley honor. He and Sandlik and Rishic and Carlos and Greg would try to create the magic that Isley had in a tougher circumstance than this. He drew another breath, calm this time and opened a channel.

"Sandlik?"

*****

Chapter 58

"Wooh!" Joran slumped back in his chair as the goal light went on bringing the score to 11 to 4 for Tamara.

"A little magic," Torin said under his breath watching the team pile onto Sandlik.

Joran heard him. "You've said that before like it means something more than the words."

Torin nodded. "That is the way Isley and the second string he was on described getting into the Hall of Fame. They were all modest, said it was magic."

"Well magic is sure what is happening here," Joran said. "That was some move by Isley, to split up the roof runners. It's really paid off. Is that a move you would have made?"

Torin made a face. "Thanks, Joran. No. I would have kept the line intact, gone for the known planned strength. It has paid off, but I don't think it was Isley's first thought or intent either. Something was wrong with Gengo when he disappeared.

"You're saying opportunism?"

"Yes ...." It was a slow thoughtful syllable.

"Then I'll change the question. If something had you make a change like that and it worked, would you take the opportunistic route?"

Torin looked at him in surprise. "Of course. So would you. I've seen you do that time and time again on stage."

"Good. We think alike."

"Gengo isn't keeping the glory to himself," Knett observed. "All five of the second string players have their goals."

"Focus!" Daron said. "Isley is going back to the three roof runners on first string for the final goal."

Torin nodded. "Show Pendrae United what they are up against."

***

He was exhausted. Gengo did not try to tell himself otherwise as he took his place for the face off. Other times he had crashed he had not played again in the game. Tonight he had kept going. And he must keep going now. Honor Isley. Honor his family name. Honor himself? But who was he? For once that question and the meditation sequence it lead to was of no interest to him. All Gengo wanted to do was get through until the final buzzer sounded.

The ball was released. The sticks slid along each other. And by some miracle he got the ball. Anhiorl must be even more exhausted than he was. As soon as he was clear Gengo passed off to Tedia and let himself lag back.

Tedia started in, but Parnilsak was there immediately. If they weren't ahead and he didn't want to be unharmed for the playoffs, Tedia would have done something about that. As it was, he just passed off to Mercan. At least he thought he'd passed off to Mercan. Valskoa ended that with a vicious check and headed into the Tamara end.

Not on my side you don't! Big Luis took a proactive swipe at Valskoa's stick, knocking the ball loose. A burst of jets and he had the ball. His pass was back to Mercan. Larr was showing his injury, Gengo was flat, and it looked like Parnilsak had it in for Tedia. They needed the kid unharmed in the finals.

Mercan took off, Marco and Gengo forming the standard press formation. It felt wrong doing this key play with Marco, not Rundell there. But Valskoa had slashed him again and the bloody ref didn't call it. That spurt of anger settled Mercan down. Marco was okay. He passed off as Kip and Warkiza both started to shift position to respond to this change from roof running. Great! Exactly what he wanted.

"Keep the ball and stay low, Marco." Mercan murmured.

"Amigo." Marco veered down, accidentally on purpose kicking Valskoa on the thigh. Good. That should have the SOB not walking tomorrow. He deserved it for slashing Rundell when they knew they'd lost the series.

Kip hesitated, then followed. Marco had scored a goal tonight on each string.

Mercan waited until Kip was committed to that trajectory, then said, "Mine! Tedia, up!"

With a grin of pure mischief Mercan headed for the roof. What the hell, if Larr could do it, so could he. Maybe Kaith would even think he was a hero. On contact with the roof Mercan hit the reaction he'd hit in practice when Isley had them all go up to see what happened. It was weird to play upside down, not just be upside down for a moment in a roll or twist. But it was not that bad really.

He'd learned he could tell his stomach that for about fifteen seconds. Mercan took six strides to show the galaxy he could do it, but he wasn't about to be stupid and push his luck. Before he could get disoriented and freeze like in practice, or worse still barf, he passed off.

"Tedia!"

The pass was good.

Both Ertwaine and Warkiza were blocking him. Tedia judged the massive defenseman as the lesser problem and headed for him.

Larr headed up to act as interference. Trying to totally ignore his body he started along the roof at a lope. He could see Warkiza's indecision. Which one to cover.

Gengo realized what Larr was doing and landed on the roof just beyond Ertwaine. "Tedia!"

Tedia passed.

Swearing Warkiza tried to recover, to cope with Gengo.

Menzaille swore, uncertain which to focus on. He was not ending this series with another goal from the roof runners!

"Tedia!!"

Startled, he almost missed Gengo's return pass it was so fast. But Warkiza was out of the way, and Menzaille had over-balanced himself trying to shift off covering Gengo and was wobbling. Tedia found the same sweet weak spot and scored just as the buzzer sounded. He'd scored the final goal in the semi-finals!

Final Score: Tamara 12 Pendrae Suns 4

"We Party!" Big Luis bellowed, then went to join the team piling onto Tedia.

"We party!!!" fed into the sound system from the millions of sports bars around the galaxy.

*****

Chapter 59

"They won!"

Carmen risked tossing Little Al into the air, then reached up to grab the laughing child.

"They won!"

To her surprise Rall took Little Al from her and in turn tossed him in the air.

"You're daddy is going for a three-peat, Little Al." He ruffled his grandson's hair.

"Yah!" Whatever it was, this new game was fun.

***

Joran touched the contact he had set up to cover this possibility. It linked him to the sports bar and to every lounge and restaurant in his hotel.

"You heard Big Luis! We party! Everything on the house for the night!"

He turned to his guests. "Head on down to wherever you want. Enjoy yourselves. I'll go down to the sports bar in a few minutes."

It must be nice to have that kind of money. Knett looked at his patient sitting in his chair with his eyes shut. Daron was totally exhausted. "Rest for five Daron, then I'll get you back to the clinic and into bed."

Joran looked up at Daron. His eyes had been closed since the final buzzer and Joran had no idea if he had heard the end of the game, the game awards, the announcement that Maras now held the record for assists by a defenseman. Joran looked at Knett, then at Trevarr.

"Trevarr, is there any reason why Daron can't sleep here? He's moving in in a couple days anyways."

Trevarr took his time. He'd been keeping an eye on Daron all night, and more importantly on how Knett was handling him in a non-clinical situation. It would probably be fine, and Daron definitely did not need the cold night trip back to the clinic.

"Sensible idea. I'll help Knett get him settled. Does the room need any prep?"

"Not much," Knett said. "I'll show you. Daron already has clothes here." The monitor installation had been finished yesterday.

"Did you move yours in yet?" Joran asked. He'd been composing and not paid attention.

"Sleep buff," Knett replied.

"There will be a hotel robe in your bath."

"Yo." He and Trevarr headed off.

"Chan, you going down to the Sports Bar?" Joran asked. "You are the hero that got them to this stage."

Chan slowly smiled. "Yeah. I think I'd like that." They'd won! The team was going for the three-peat!

"Then head down with Torin and Mai. I'll be along when Daron is settled."

Mai gave Chan a hug and a kiss. "Come on, hero!"

The three linked arms and the room emptied except for Daron, and Joran still sitting at his feet.

"You awake?"

"Mmm." Daron didn't trust his voice for more than that, but he opened his eyes. They'd won!

"You made it. You survived watching. I know how much that that kind of surviving costs. So go sleep. And just keep staying here unless Trevarr gets pushy. You don't belong in a clinic."

"Thanks." For so much, but he was too tired to say more. Daron let himself slip into a doze. He didn't see Knett return or notice Joran carefully letting go of his legs and rising.

***

As Elvira watched Ranga just sitting there, eyes closed she saw a tear escape and trickle down his cheek.

"You really thought you blew it for them, didn't you?"

Mutely he nodded.

"I already talked to Trevarr. I said that if Tamara won the odds of you getting out of here unrecognized were zero." The ground floor of every hotel in Crescent Bay would be one big party. Probably the streets too. "He said it was okay to stay over."

"Thanks, Elvira."

"Look, it's late." Not late by her standards, but she was quite sure she couldn't handle Ranga falling apart. "Basic decision required. Your own room or my bed platonic? Then lets get some sleep." If she could. That should have been Daron's game. How had he handled watching? She didn't dare call.

Even as that thought crossed her mind the message tone sounded on her compad. Joran? With trembling fingers Elvira touched the contact. Blessedly it was text and short. 'Daron is staying here. He watched the whole game so I definitely have myself an assistant coach. So relax and celebrate.'

Mutely she turned the compad to Ranga. "Celebrate?" she asked. "My bed?"

*****

Chapter 60

The first players out of the dressing room were the second string forwards, Sandlik, Rishic, Marco, Greg, and Gengo. This was their night, and they intended to savor every second of the unusual level of attention. They grouped themselves, arms on each other's shoulders, grinning for media shots.

"Great game!"

"Are you ready for Pendrae United?"

The routine press noises came as they stood there with widening grins. But it wasn't routine, was it? They were never great, and never got full attention.

"Marco, that was a great game! How do you feel after playing both lines?" a local reporter who was a friend of Marco's wife asked with a smile.

"Floating! Tomorrow I won't be moving," he added with a laugh. Then he stepped out of the grouping to wave to his family down the hall.

"Gengo, it was brilliant putting you back on the second string, so there was a roof runner there too," a galactic reporter who considered himself an expert said. "Will you stay there for the series with United?"

Gengo smiled his calm smile. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Everyone laughed.

The dressing room door opened and Big Luis came out, with one arm around Mercan, the other around Tedia. Larr was beside Mercan, hand on his arm. They were not, as the media assumed, posing for the cameras. Big Luis had an iron grip on each teammate's shoulder and was propelling them forward. Mercan had announced that he didn't care if they had won or lost. He was not going out the dressing room door. There had been too much coverage of his woman problems. And Tedia had taken a quick look at the mob scene outside and decided Mercan had the right attitude.

This had not pleased Big Luis. To him Octagla was as much a psychological as a physical game. Pendrae United would be watching every second, and every team member had to be out there exuding confidence. If they even guessed Mercan was hiding from his women, they would be at him the whole series, and Mercan would be scrapping steady. And Tedia had to be confident, taking the attitude 'you think this was impressive, see me against Pendrae United' – and get them worried.

Big Luis had patiently spelled this out to his teammates. Tedia had given him a shy smile and a shake of the head and not budged. Mercan had said to fuck off. Big Luis had tried again, saying the same arguments with new words. It didn't help. So he'd tried a direct solution. When Mercan had told him to fuck off for a second time, he'd said 'Can it' and pulled the little guy off the bench. Tedia had needed a bit less roughing.

The 'get complemented over the game' stage went better than Big Luis expected. Mercifully the press did not tease Mercan, and he had an easy way with the media and liked being told he was great. He was frequently told he had a good game, rarely that he was great. Tedia was embarrassed and squirmed in Big Luis's grip. Once the questions got technical though he found his voice and answered them happily enough in his soft, gentle voice.

"Mercan, how many planets do you..."

Mercan went rigid under Big Luis's hand. He'd told Big Luis this would happen, and the brute had dragged him out here anyway.

Big Luis had heard Mercan, and he said he'd run interference. He cut in over the sentence. "Hold it! You can needle Mercan later on his love life, but you clowns are ruining mine."

That got Big Luis puzzled looks from the media and a really dirty one from Mercan. This was Big Luis's idea of helping, to tell them to go at it?

Big Luis gave Mercan what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze, and continued full voice. "I'm one happy man, and we're gonna party!"

This got enthusiastic assents from everyone within earshot except Mercan and Tedia. With Big Luis getting an assist on the winning goal, the party was likely to be legendary.

"And I want to start with a big kiss from my fiancée."

Fiancée? Big Luis had a fiancée? Cameras and eyes focused down the hall, but there weren't any likely candidates. Just Larr's new girl, and one of Mercan's two women.

"Wrong way, dummies," Big Luis said cheerfully. "That's why you're giving me problems. She's squished at the back and can't get through." He raised his voice to full bellow. "Hidi. Come here! I want a kiss."

Hidi? Big Luis was engaged to Hidi? The crowd and cameras rotated 180°.

"It's your chance to clear out Mercan." Big Luis released his teammate. "I don't know if you saw, but Kaith is waiting for you at the end of the hall." He continued softly, his face totally serious for once. "If I ever saw a woman in love Mercan, it's her the way she stood by you last game and tonight. If you're going to marry one of them, I'd take her."

Mercan nodded, took half a step, then stopped. "You really engaged to Hidi?" There was concern in his eyes. Hidi was Daron's woman.

"With Daron's blessing," Big Luis said even more softly, "now get." It was taking time for Hidi to squeeze through, but she would be here in a moment. "Get! You too if you want." He released Tedia.

At last Hidi made it to the front, tawny blonde and glamorous as always. Big Luis took the chain she was wearing and slowly tugged the engagement ring out of the neckline of her wine colored low cut skintight zero-g unitard. She was so beautiful! Then he tipped her face up and kissed her.

The door opened again and Maras walked out, flanked by the second string defensemen Reladjn and Kyle. They were all resplendent in brightly patterned suits and jewelry that suited their masses. Mikey at the end of the group was dwarfed into insignificance.

For once Maras had something to say. "We party!" He went and thumped Big Luis. "Quit kissin'. Time to eat."

*****

Chapter 61

It was rather like being in the quiet eye of a storm Carmen decided as she looked around. Big Luis' party was in full swing. The restaurant had exceeded its legal capacity within ten minutes and the party had spilled out into the corridor. There was music, food and drink, and noise. So much noise.

Her table was relatively quiet because they were concentrating on eating, or rather Big Luis and Maras were concentrating on eating. She would guess by the evening spent at her house that Maras was about half way through his meal. Big Luis was working on the food steadily too, but he kept getting interruptions. So far, as well as fans and friends, there had been three visits from the restaurant owner, five from the chef, and four from various sous-chefs. Carmen gathered that the first from the restaurant manager was to confirm just exactly who was paying for this (Big Luis) and how. The rest were to assure him that his guests were being well cared for. The visits from the chefs were to make sure that their two most appreciative clients, Big Luis and Maras, were happy, then to discuss in great detail what they were eating next.

Carmen herself had powered out about fifteen minutes earlier and she was playing with an exotic pastry and sipping her drink. Larr had hardly eaten a thing and she suspected he was in quite a bit of pain. Still, you could tell by the way he smiled as various people came to the table that he was happy and the price of the win was fine with him. Tedia was almost too excited to eat. He'd just been picking at his plate, and Carmen sincerely doubted he'd tasted a single mouthful. He seemed to be splitting his attention between the crowd, the older players, and trying to watch Hidi without seeming to. Mercan and Kaith had finished eating a few minutes ago and were dancing, totally oblivious to the crowd.

Rather to Carmen's surprise, Hidi was pacing her eating to keep Big Luis company and eating a moderate if not large amount. Carmen hadn't been too comfortable with the idea of sharing a table with Hidi, but she had to admit the woman was a good hostess. With the exception of Maras who either ignored or snubbed her, she'd kept everyone talking and relaxed.

At the next table were Rundell, Roban, Tarell, Kevin, and Mikey. None of them had dates and only Mikey was showing any interest in the girls in the crowd. The rest were alternating between eating and talking to fans. Carmen tried to remember if any of them had wives or girl friends but she couldn't. She hadn't been all that interested in Octagla at that personal a level. On the other side were some of the second string players. Gengo had been there for about ten minutes, then left. At the table now were Red, Rishic, Sandlik, Reladjn and Kyle. They all seemed to have acquired adoring female fans. Just beyond that were Marco and Greg with their wives and kids. That was probably the loudest table in the room!

Looking past Marco Carmen saw a stout, bright eyed nonagenarian slowly approaching the table, his arm around the waist of a slightly built woman who if possible looked even older and more wrinkled than he was.

Big Luis rose in honor of this pair of visitors, a truly warm smile on his face.

"Morris, Eva! I didn't think you'd come!" Big Luis engulfed Morris' hand in his, then bent to kiss Eva on her wrinkled cheek.

"Do you think we'd miss one of your parties, Luis? We aren't that old yet." Morris laughed heartily at what he considered a good joke.

Big Luis turned to the table. "Morris is some kind of a great great second cousin of mine. We worked it out once on the computer at one of those ancestry sites."

Morris beamed at the table, then focussed on Tedia. "That was quite a show you gave us, young man," he said in perfect Latino.

Startled, Tedia gave him a shy, blushing smile.

"And you Maras. Maybe my Luis will give you a run for that most valuable defenseman, eh? You split the assists this game."

Maras favored the old man with a smile. He liked really old people almost as much as he like children, and he knew Morris and Eva from other parties.

"Maybe," he conceded just to be tactful. "How you keepin' Eva? That hip doin' better now?"

It was Eva's turn to blush at the attention. "Good enough to come up in the shuttle. Bad enough we've got here slow." She really felt bad about the three times they had needed to stop and let her rest. It certainly took a while to rest now. "Morris wanted to talk to Mercan too." Personally, Eva was relieved that wasn't going to happen. Morris would probably tell that rascal off, stringing all those poor women along. She looked at where the young lovers were dancing. Maybe it was going to be a case of all is well that ends well.

Maras followed the look. "Won't miss you," he said matter of factly. "His mind's on Kaith, but I'll tell him hello from you."

"Thank you, Maras."

"Young lovers," Morris said with an approving smile at what he saw. Maybe Mercan was getting some sense. He gave Eva a squeeze. "I'm glad you're finally settling down too, Luis. I'm sure you lads all think you're having a great time, but until you get a good woman like my Eva here and settle down you aren't living at all.

"Morris!" Eva gave her husband a playful slap on the wrist and blushed even harder.

"It's true," Morris said seriously.

Maras nodded at the wisdom of the old man. It were what he was tryin' to do. Too bad Big Luis had hooked himself up with trash. But now weren't the time to say so.

"And you Larr -" Morris transferred his attention to Larr. If they stood any longer Eva would have hip problems again. Still, he hated to hurry this moment or to slight anyone.

Maras had been watching the old faces. Now he stood, interrupting Morris.

"Eva, come and sit here in my chair and have a little drink. You look a little tuckered." The chairs freed by Mercan and Kaith were long gone to other tables.

Eva hesitated. They had only come over to say hello, not to barge in with the guests of honor. But she was feeling the littlest bit wobbly, well actually more than a little bit.

Embarrassed at his own inattention Big Luis backed Maras. "Please do. Morris you have mine." He rose. "We'll get a couple more."

"I'd like to know where," Morris said looking at the crowd, but he took the offer as Maras, with infinite care, seated Eva.

Maras however had no qualms. "Big Luis, get them drinks and while you're at it find out where that pork casserole went." It sure weren't sitting on the table and he were still hungry. "I'll get them chairs." He scanned the room looking for likely victims then stalked off.

"This should be good," Hidi observed as she watched Maras's retreating back. That got her a reproving frown from Big Luis and she laughed. She was too happy for them all to be scolded tonight.

Big Luis turned his attention to the old couple. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, we're fine," Eva said.

"Just walked in the door," Morris said. "Haven't had a bite." The food at Luis' parties was always excellent.

"Morris!"

Big Luis grinned. "Think about what you want and I'll bring a waiter back with me."

Morris transferred his attention back to Larr. "It was a real treat, Larr, to see you up on the roof. You looked just like Rall. Made me feel like a young man." Any event prior to his late seventies when Morris had been forced to admit he was slowing down was his youth.

As the old man rambled on, Larr gritted his teeth and told himself Morris meant well. He had honestly thought he was at peace about Rall, but apparently not. About a third of the compliments he had received at the party had compared him to his father. The first couple dozen hadn't bothered him, but he was getting really tired of reminiscences about great things Rall had done.

"Oh dear, is that injury bothering you, Larr?" Eva asked solicitously.

"A little now and then," Larr conceded. The payment he had known there would be for pushing himself was starting to be collected. Still, the talk about Rall was worse than the pain.

One of the comments in that flow of words about Rall had a totally different effect on Carmen. Listening to the old man reliving Rall's glory days she suddenly felt guilty. What was she doing sitting here when Rall and Ingar could be here except for Little Al? Rall should be knowing he wasn't forgotten. And she knew he would be just bursting with pride over Larr every time anything was said about his son. He hadn't said much during the game, but he hadn't had to. His face had said it all.

Ingar had explained that they didn't mind missing the party. Little Al had nightmares and he got very upset if he woke up and a stranger was there. And she'd said Rall wasn't much for parties.

But now Carmen knew it was wrong letting Ingar talk her into this. She could take care of Little Al perfectly well and he liked her. He wouldn't be upset if he woke and she was there. Assuming he was asleep. If she'd ever seen one wide awake overtired overexcited little boy, it was Little Al by the end of the game. Carmen leaned close to Larr.

"Larr, I'm finished eating. I'm going to take a shift with Little Al." She had been to one of Big Luis' parties now and she didn't mind leaving. She had enjoyed a wonderful meal and had her chance at celebrity watching. It wasn't like anyone would dance with her.

"Carmen, I can't impose on you like that." Larr took a look around. "But you're right. Rall should be here for a while. I'll go."

"You will not!" Carmen settled the argument by standing. "You're a guest of honor."

*****

Chapter 62

Maras plodded back through the crowd, a chair under each arm. He was rather pleased with himself. That had gone real good. He had picked a couple in their thirties that weren't eating or nothing. They was just sitting watching, and they could watch good standing. It had taken a moment when he said he wanted chairs to figure out he meant the ones they was on, but then they had hardly squawked. The lady had just given the guy a nervous little smile, and said they were just going to dance anyhow.

A casserole was on the table, Maras observed as he plopped the chairs down. It were big too. That was real good 'cause Morris and Eva was eating it like they figured it was theirs. Then he noticed Big Luis was sat down and eating casserole too. That didn't seem right. Maras stood there and counted around the table. Carmen weren't there. She must've gone to the toilet. He carefully placed one of the chairs by Larr, claimed the other for himself, and helped himself to a large serving of the savory pork dish.

***

That were one good casserole. Maras belched contentedly. What to have next? His attention wandered. Carmen weren't back yet, and it had been a long time. Women was real slow using the toilet, between talking and fixing their makeup. But even allowing for that, and probably real long lineups for the toilets, she was a long time. Larr kept looking at the door too. Maybe she'd gone somewhere. Maybe she decided she should go see how Blinky were doing. Maras were starting to worry about Silky himself, what with little Al chasing her around. He was worried, but not worried enough to interrupt his meal.

A savory tart. Yup. That were what he needed. Maras put down his fork and motioned to the waiter, then turned to Larr. "Carmen gone somewhere?"

"She said she'd go take care of Little Al so Rall and Ingar could come down for a while."

Maras frowned. That were too bad. If she'd gone to see Blinky, she'd be back. But Rall and Ingar would settle in and be here all night. He were going to dance with Carmen after he'd finished supper and let it set a bit. Maras liked to dance, but he didn't get much chance on the road. The girls he met just didn't seem the same as at the bar his dad worked at. On the Octagla circuit they was trash, or they iced you, or they got wrong ideas about the rest of the night. Maras just liked to dance, and maybe have a drink, no strings attached.

He ruminated on this turn of events as he cleared a last morsel of casserole off his plate. Larr were watching the door again. If Rall and Ingar was coming, they was short one more chair. Maras chewed on the last forkful as he scanned the room looking for his next victim.

***

"Oh bother!" Carmen heard motion in the bedroom. She had really meant to do at least a bit of tidying before housekeeping came in to turn down Larr's bed and put those child guards on the table corners. It was amazing the mess one little boy and three puppies could make. Still, they were bound to have seen worse. She returned her full attention to Little Al. She'd finally calmed him down enough to bathe him, but she didn't really dare take her eyes off him for a second.

"Carmen?" Larr's voice was soft, and uncertain.

"In here. We're having a bath." The 'We' was quite justified. Carmen was sure she was at least as wet as Little Al was. "All right Little Al, let go of the washcloth. Let's go see your dad."

In response Little Al grinned and bit harder into the washcloth they were using for a tug-of-war.

"Okay. You win." Carmen let go of her end of the cloth, and picked up Little Al, dripping face cloth dangling from his mouth, and wrapped him in an oversized towel. "There." Carmen took a perfunctory swipe at the black curls. "At least you're clean. I do wish I could say you're tired and sleepy."

She turned to find Larr standing with carefully erect posture in the doorway, looking amused.

"I thought you were celebrating, Larr."

"My conscience got the better of me, and," Larr gave a disarming grin, "to be quite honest I was starting to get tired and sore. So after Rall and I did the handshakes with the mob he created, I left."

"Da!" Little Al held his arms out.

"No Little Al," Carmen said. "Your dad is hurt."

Little Al looked at Carmen, puzzled.

She tried again. "Remember a little while ago when you fell and hit your arm on the table and I kissed it better?"

"Yah!" Little Al proudly held up his arm for his father to inspect the welt and the tiny scratch.

"I'm so sorry Larr." Carmen was troubled. "It happened so fast. I think Little Al stepped on a pup – at least one yelped. I called housekeeping and they said they'd come put those round corner things on the table but they aren't here yet and –" She stopped. "And I'm embarrassed and talking too much."

"Well, don't be. That doesn't look serious and learning to take falls is part of learning to walk. Isn't it Little Al?" he said to his son who was still holding the arm up.

"I think you're supposed to kiss it better like I did," Carmen hazarded.

"Okay." Larr kissed the little arm. "Better?"

"Yah." Little Al held his arms out again to be transferred to his dad.

"No Little Al. Larr is hurt too, right there." She moved the towel and patted Little Al's ribs.

Little Al gave Larr an uncertain look, and held his arms out again.

"Thanks for trying Carmen but he really won't hurt me, and he doesn't understand."

But Little Al did sort of understand. He gave Larr a big sloppy kiss on the neck since he couldn't reach the ribs, then held his arms out to be returned to Carmen.

"Ar?"

She took him and he nestled against her ample bosom.

"That was sweet Little Al," she said, then smiled at Larr. "Feel better?"

"Lots. Thanks Little Al." Larr ruffled the curls.

"Ar?" Little Al prompted.

"I think you're supposed to kiss me better too," Larr teased.

"Let's get you ready for bed Little Al." Carmen said, embarrassed.

Little Al wiggled. "'Ar!" It was a command this time, not a question. He felt lots better when she kissed his arm better.

"You're confusing him." Larr was amused. "I don't bite."

"So I gather from the number of women I've seen you kissing on holovision," Carmen said. Well, it was probably easier to treat it as a joke and be a good sport. Carmen shifted Little Al to her hip and reached forward to give Larr a peck on the cheek.

Larr had meant it as a joke too, but it somehow didn't stay that way. Before Carmen could escape he had put a hand behind her head and found her lips for a kiss that started gentle and turned exploring

After a few moments he released her.

"There, I feel lots better."

Carmen didn't want to see his face. She knew it was all a joke, but she didn't want that confirmed. Sometime down the road she wanted to be able to pretend it was more than teasing. But something in Larr's voice as he gently murmured her name made her look. He wasn't teasing now. He looked as confused as she felt.

*****

Chapter 63

Carmen had tried to undo the worst effects of keeping up with Little Al, but her trousers were terribly wrinkled between sitting on the floor and their soaking in the water fight. And her hair certainly showed no signs of the expensive styling she'd had earlier in the day. Carmen assumed her makeup was fine. At any rate she looked the way she did in the mirror every morning. She started to weave her way through the crowd to the table.

"Carmen!" Maras rewarded her with one of his rare smiles. "You come back!" He hadn't thought she would. He'd figured she'd gone home to Blinky. Maybe she had just gone and looked at him. It had been a while since she left, but Maras wasn't sure how long. He'd been listening to Rall tell stories.

"I've just come to tell you not to wake Larr to get Silky. When I left -"

"Oh, do sit down for a moment, Carmen," Ingar said.

There were two chairs Big Luis and Hidi had been using until Hidi declared they had to 'circulate'. Maras knowed Big Luis. He'd stand and talk and talk and make himself hungry and thirsty. So Maras had glared down anyone who came for the chairs.

"Just for a minute." Carmen took the chair with relief. Did mothers feel this way all the time, or did it get easier with practice? "Maras, as I was going to say, I got Little Al bathed and asleep in his crib, so please just let Silky stay there tonight."

"How did you do that?" Ingar asked with open admiration. Larr had never been half the trouble Little Al was. "I think all the space travel has him totally confused. He'll sleep for three or four hours, play until he's exhausted, then sleep again. It's like when he was newborn, but at least then he wasn't racing around."

"The bath was an experience," Carmen conceded. "But he went to sleep fine. I was telling him a made up story about Blinky, and he was asleep in no time." She gave a disarming smile. "I must be a boring story teller."

It was time to go. Carmen didn't want to be hanging on. "Anyways, Larr had a good soak while I was getting Little Al to sleep, and with any luck Little Al will stay that way for a while so Larr can get some rest. And that," she smiled at Maras, "is why I asked you to leave Silky there. She and Jellybean and Atikujla are asleep in Jellybean's basket."

Maras nodded. A real nice lady. He'd done good for Larr. A disturbing thought crossed his mind. If Larr were liking Carmen now, would he mind if he danced with her? Maras was quite sure he would mind if Larr danced with Cailla. He frowned, puzzled. Why had he thought that? He and Larr was buddies now, and Cailla had never liked Larr, even when they was both living on Pendrae.

Carmen saw the frown. She was overstaying her welcome. "It's late and I should go. I have to work in the morning." She rose. "It's been a lovely night. Please thank Big Luis for me."

Maras and Rall automatically rose too. Maras made one of the faster decisions in his life.

"Do you gotta go right now? Maybe we could dance for one song."

It didn't sound polite. In fact, he looked and sounded wistful. Carmen couldn't remember ever seeing Maras dance, and she'd seen him on holovision on various society shows as well as sports. Maybe he was a lousy dancer. Well, that was alright. This way she could say she'd been dancing at one of Big Luis' parties. If she needed additional temptation, the new band that had arrived in her absence was very good. And she did like to dance.

Carmen smiled at Maras. "I'd love to."

***

It was quite a few songs later and they were still dancing. Maras was pleasantly surprised. Carmen were a good dancer. Now that they'd been dancing a while and was used to each other, he'd been thinkin' bout other things. Like how Carmen and Larr was getting on. He wondered if he should just ask, or if that were a mistake. If Larr were being dumb an' not doing nothing, maybe it were better to wait and ask Larr, then tell him straight up he were stupid. For sure he couldn't shout the question an' he'd have to with the band so loud. Gonna have to wait for between songs. Maras meditated on this through a complicated series of moves that were almost as tricky as an arvdynm check.

Carmen was thoroughly enjoying the dancing. Much to her surprise Maras was a good dancer. He obviously saw dancing as a good aerobic work out, and he took up a lot of floor space in the process. That wasn't a problem though. Everyone seemed quite prepared to keep their distance. The downside of this was that it was almost like they were in the center of an empty stage with everyone staring at them. At first this had bothered her, then after one song she had decided it was their problem if they wanted to stare, not hers. So she had relaxed and was quite enjoying both the music and watching Maras - from a safe distance. He was constant motion, gleaming gold hair pipes flashing, that vivid suit glimmering.

The song ended and she moved closer to Maras. "The band is really good, Maras. What's their name?" Maras would probably know who Big Luis had hired.

"The Party Band. They was a little late getting here. Said they had trouble with Customs. They'd been headed for home on Gingezel from a party planetside when Big Luis called to see where they was."

Big Luis had brought in an other planet band when there were thousands of bands on Tamara? That was interesting, Carmen thought. It must be nice to have that kind of money. But Maras hadn't answered her question.

"But who are they?"

Maras did not laugh at her like the guys had at him when it took him a long time to get it right. Instead he said in all earnestness, "They call themselves The Party Band. I think when they started they was something else, but nobody ever remembered it. They'd say we got to hire that party band. You see, they's friends of Anton and Mrail but they don't tour onstage or nothin'. So they don't need no fancy name. They just do parties like this."

Carmen gave Maras a suspicious look, but he didn't seem to be teasing.

Now Maras did grin. "Okay, you want to ask Miguel?" Miguel was the lead singer. Maras started to move towards the stage, but Cassie came forward to join Miguel. That meant a duet. That were real good. He liked duets. The opening chords showed it would be a slow song, so maybe he could ask Carmen about Larr. Maras held out his arms to Carmen.

Cautiously she moved into them, but Maras's touch was surprisingly light and by now she was used to his sense of rhythm which was more complicated than the Tamaran style. So with her feet in no great danger she relaxed and listened to the love song. Whoever this band was, they were good.

Carmen were nice to hold, Maras decided. There were lots to her. She were light on her feet too. Then Maras got a whiff of scent from her hair and grinned into it. He didn't have to ask no questions. A while ago now ... hang on, it must have been when Larr were courting Orchid. Yup, that would explain such a dumb move. Larr had gone and got some fancy designer to make up a cologne and after shave just for him. Maras liked to smell good himself, but the stuff Larr got cost a fortune and it didn't even smell good. All you could say about it were that Larr for sure weren't gonna be able to sneak up on anyone anymore. You couldn't mistake the stuff for anything else, and it were strong. Maras took another sniff at the unmistakable scent. Yup. He smiled.

***

Nick had told himself he was coming to this party of Big Luis' when he got off his shift because they were always good, and it was. But his eyes had kept straying to Big Luis' table. Carmen was sitting there, sitting and laughing like she was part of things. He had honestly thought that crack about going with Larr was a put down and she wouldn't be at the party. But she'd been here. Then she'd left the party. At first he'd thought the woman had put fussing over that ridiculous animal of hers above the opportunity of a lifetime, to actually sit at Big Luis' table for one of his parties. But not fifteen minutes later Larr leaves too, and only minutes after his parents arrived! What could that be except wanting to be alone together but not wanting to be seen to leave together. Really! Then an hour or so later Carmen has the nerve to come back. At least she should have gone home to clean herself up. Her clothes looked like she'd slept in them, and she was a mess. And look at her now, snuggled up to Maras. Didn't the woman have any shame? And just look at the grin on Maras's face. Nick told himself he was lucky to have avoided an entanglement with a woman like her. But all the same, he kept watching.

*****

Chapter 64

Two tables pushed together in the coffee shop were loaded with breakfast for Marco and his family, and Greg and his family. Everyone was laughing and talking at once. Marco leaned over and kissed his wife. His son rolled his eyes. Greg decided it was a good time to be demonstrative for once and kissed his wife too.

***

"Little Al. Please, please eat your breakfast." Larr looked resignedly at the food on Little Al's face, the table, and the floor. He'd swear not two grams were in Little Al. That kid looked too wide awake in the lurid bib Carmen had brought back from somewhere.

The call tone sounded, startling Larr then his ribs went into spasm and he couldn't breathe for a moment. He glared at his compad suspiciously. What now!? Carmen? He relaxed.

"Oh, Carmen. How are you?"

"Exhausted – I made the mistake of trying to keep up with Maras dancing." She took a breath and hurried on before she lost her nerve. "The reason I called was I wondered if Little Al and Jellybean would like to come play with Blinky while you got some rest."

"Bless you!"

"Car? Car?" Little Al tried to grab the compad.

***

"Can I go wake up Uncle Torin?" Kimi demanded as soon as her parents finally came out of their bedroom. She had been up for over an hour practicing throwing that big ball with her Octagla stick, and she was doing something wrong. Uncle Torin could fix that and he was more fun than her mother.

"No!" Rori and Mai said simultaneously. He'd be hung over and mean.

"Can I call Maras?"

"No!" Mai said. And that daughter of hers was never ever going to bounce a ball off the bedroom wall again. Mai was reminded she didn't handle hung over any better than her brother. Tough.

Kimi's thumb went in her mouth.

***

Reladjn and Kyle walked into the cafe together, freshly showered from their work outs. They nudged each other, nodded towards the noisy corner, and grinned. Then they ambled over.

"Marco, Greg, you guys and your families settled in for the morning?" Kyle asked as Reladjn picked up another table and put it down beside the family ones.

***

Isley woke to the luxury of being curled up to his wife Willow's back. Early on they had learned that Willow simply could not stand to watch a game he coached. Out of loyalty she had come to a few, but seeing her pale strained face framed by long dark hair had thrown him. So she now stayed home. But as soon as Big Luis shouted "We Party" team logistics staff had booked a Genie for her to come up to the party. Well, today was one day he was not going down to the cafe for breakfast.

***

Roban put a hand to his mouth to suppress a yawn but it didn't work. "Uncle Baranb, I'm sorry but I've got to get some sleep. Any work I do now will be a waste of time." He'd called up his uncle when he got tired of the party and left. They had been doing simulations ever since.

"Of course, Roban." Barranb was contrite. He did get carried away at times. "Call me when you can."

***

Having woken the time he always woke Gengo had read a surprisingly polite message from his father that ended with please call me. His father had never said please before. He would call later. First he must care for his body or he would be no good next series. Gengo finished a set of meditation exercises and moved on to his yoga. When the yoga was over he would have tea, a citrus, some protein. His first move did not go well. He stopped, waiting for the tremors to stop. He had never pushed this hard after a crash, and obviously he would have to ease into things more slowly. Gengo began a novice yoga series.

***

Ingar took a bite of muffin as she watched Rall across the tiny table in their room. He was hung over, but looked to be in a good mood. And he didn't look tired. She felt like she didn't want to move all day.

"I think I would have handled a party like that better back when you played," she said with an apologetic smile. "Did anyone have parties like Big Luis's back then?"

"Nope. That was something, wasn't it?" He watched her in silence for a while. "Everything on the station will be booked. Why don't you go planetside for a day at a spa? Larr and I can handle the brat."

***

"Breakfast here, or in the Arboretum?" Big Luis asked Hidi. They'd both been awake for over an hour, made love, and showered together.

"Here." Hidi nuzzled his neck and slid her hand up his chest. The engagement ring glinted in the soft light.

***

Red woke to a gentle nibble on his left earlobe that was followed by the flick of a tongue. He turned on his side and smiled at the little oriental woman who had been flirting with him a few days ago in the elevator.

"I'm sorry, Red, but I've got to catch my flight."

"I know."

He pulled her close for a kiss. He'd only been half right. She was in the cosmetics industry but she wasn't in sales. She owned a group of stores in the southern hemisphere of Rujjipet. When he first saw her she had been on her way to a conference planetside on Tamara. Now she was going home. The odds of their ever connecting again were more or less zero. It had been a great party and a good night, but they both knew they had no reason to connect again. Was he good at being spaceflot, living spaceflot rules? Daron obviously preferred them, but somehow to Red this didn't quite seem right. She was a nice woman.

"If you are comfortable giving me your address, I'll have flowers waiting for you."

"That's sweet!"

***

That were a good party. Maras yawned, rubbed his face to get the sleep out of his eyes, and headed for the cater unit. He'd just get a snack, then call Cailla. Food in hand, he sat down at the comm unit to place the call. Dutifully he checked the times. It were midmorning there. Maras's face fell. He'd really wanted Cailla to tell him how good he done like she done last night. But she'd be in the first session of her tryouts. So he'd have to call her on the way to Pendrae. Or maybe when he got there. Maras yawned and picked up a sticky roll. That were a good party.

***

That was some party! Mercan opened a bleary-eye to see Kaith's white blonde hair. Acting on reflex he gave her a kiss and fell back into a deep sleep.

***

Sandlik stroked Irene's slender curves. She had to be the loveliest woman on the space station. They had dated off and on for about a year now.

"Want me to order in a fancier breakfast than the cater unit?"

***

"And you're sure you're fine?" Rundell asked his wife. He would have called earlier but she'd had an appointment with her obstetrician.

"Carrying much better, love." I hope. "And how is your wrist after a night's sleep? That was a long game." And that had been a vicious and unnecessary slash.

"Not bad," Rundell lied.

***

Marti patiently went back to the top of the file of images she was studying. Yes, the third and seventh would have Surana Petals looking to break Orchid's contract. She took a sip of her lemon tea, then a spoonful of cereal and berries. Usually she only had tea, then later a protein drink, but starting the day after one of Big Luis's parties on an empty stomach was a bad move.

She had to give that woman credit for some small degree of sense. The interview the team PR manager had forwarded to her was discrete enough, but Orchid was definitely laying claim to Larr and his son. The separation was just a cooling off, an interval while they both decided how to juggle a family and their intense careers Orchid claimed. Well, she would put a fast end to that! The question was, how to give her a warning off that did not sound like either the threat of blackmail it was, even when the letter was taken to the most determined lawyer. Well, she'd had plenty of experience with lawyers over the years. Marti took another meditative sip.

***

How did these guys do this? Tedia surfaced with the worst allover ache and the hangover of his life. He went back to sleep.

***

Chan woke up to the sounds of a shower. His eyes told him he was still in Joran's hotel. Oh yeah... that tall slender brunette from Laurion. He was in her suite. Chan stretched, and headed towards the sounds in the shower.

***

A dull ache forced Rishic to the surface. He had absolutely no intention of staying awake. He was going to sleep all day. He rolled onto his back and within a minute was snoring loudly, mouth open.

***

Daron did what he always did when he woke up in a strange bed. Try to guess by the decor where it was. Joran's suite. His suite. No more clinic, because they were not getting him back there!

"Breakfast." Knett poked his head in carrying a tray and wrapped in a thick turquoise robe.

Sounds of unfamiliar music accompanied him.

"What's that?"

"Joran. He's been up all night composing. Let me know if he starts to bug you. He's restless. He woke me up four times just to talk." Knett chuckled and adjusted the belt on his robe. Living here would be great.

***

Mikey yawned. Boy, had he slept! He ran a hand though his tousled blond hair and headed for the cater unit. His favorite protein breakfast drink in hand he went back to bed and plopped his gaming computer control on his lap. Then he signed into his favorite site to see who wanted a game. This new role of bad guy was fun!

*****

Chapter 65

"No-neck Knett here. Is it safe to come in?" He was back at the clinic to give Ranga a therapy session. Daron was resting and Chan hadn't resurfaced yet. They could definitely stop worrying about Chan.

"Just a minute," came from Ranga.

"Sure," came from Elvira.

Probably that meant life studies, not sex, but with Elvira Knett couldn't be sure. Curious, he pushed open the door. Life studies. Ranga was in the visitor's chair, pen and drawing pad in hand. Elvira was sitting naked in what had to be a very uncomfortable position on the bed, one leg almost under her, one in front hugging it. It made her look great though.

"You going to be able to move from that position?"

"Probably not. Ranga's been saying he's done every five minutes for the last fifteen," Elvira complained.

"Well, when you're done it's therapy time." Knett didn't try to look at Ranga's work. He'd learned that upset him. "Why don't you start with sensory stimulation on one of those legs? I would."

Ranga pointedly ignored him.

Elvira gave him a wink. "Bye bye No-neck."

***

"Finished." Ranga flexed his fingers.

"About time!" Elvira started to carefully uncoil from her posture. "Ouch!" She took her hands and carefully guided a leg. "What I do in the interests of art. That had better be good, Ranga!"

"Maybe." He closed the sketchpad and put it in the drawer of his table.

"So are you going to try Knett's advice?"

Ranga gave her a blank stare.

"Try some sensory stimulation." Elvira gave her right leg flex. Well, it would probably be fine to stand on.

"No, Elvira." Ranga's tone was repressive.

"Fine. I'll get dressed then." Elvira cautiously eased into her clothes, and walked over to Ranga. "Sure you won't let me see?"

"No way."

"Be in a bad mood." Elvira put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to put up with me anymore. I've decided I'm going to go watch the finals. Go be with the team." Elvira leaned close to give Ranga's cheek a kiss. "I'm sorry I can't kiss your hand better before I go."

Ranga turned to her. "I made my own mess, didn't I?"

"I wouldn't exactly say that," Elvira said slowly. "Now I'm going to Joran's to see if Daron will lend me his team jacket and a tunic to wear for luck."

"Do you want mine?" Ranga asked.

"His will be a better fit."

That felt like one of Elvira's lies. "Elvira, stay out of this." She really was upset about Daron and was probably out to get Zloenni and Cobyn Gadd, not follow the team. Why would she follow the team now when she never had when Daron played?

"Is there a male conspiracy – Daron, Ghen, dad, and you?"

"Elvira –"

She put a finger to his lips. "Let's say goodbye friends for once."

Ranga thought, while she kept her finger firmly silencing him. If even Devon and Ghen couldn't talk sense into her, he wasn't likely to. He removed the finger, kissing it. "At least be careful."

Elvira nodded. "Then I'm out of here."

"Wait a second." Ranga reached to open the drawer. "Take something with you."

Elvira's sculpted brows asked what.

"It's a sketch I did from memory. Her name is Krysta and she works on the Pendrae space station."

"And you want me to find her for you?" Elvira couldn't decide what she thought of that request.

Ranga shook his head with a slight smile. "I'm stupid but not that stupid. I want you to find her for Daron. Your brother has finally fallen in love."

###

About the Authors

Donald S. Hall, PhD. has been equally interested in sports, physics, and computing, so inventing the space sport Octagla was natural. Don played Junior A hockey, winning MVP for his team in their 1969 playoff run to the national semi-finals, and was invited to the Los Angeles Kings training camp. At graduate school he played goal for one year for the varsity team. He was also an avid box lacrosse player, playing goal at both the Junior and Senior levels.

He and his co-author Judi Suni Hall, PhD. have shared their lives and careers since marrying as undergrads. They both did PhD.'s in theoretical physics, then moved into industry and worked at AECL, Canada's nuclear research lab. As Technical Director of AECL's risk analysis consultancy Judi worked with a number of industries, including the Canadian Space Agency. Don's research on expert systems led to collaboration with some of Canada's top AI researchers.

Their lives were changed by a severely disabling virus and 10 years were a write off. Don now runs Apps & More Software Design and has the caregiver role as Judi is still severely disabled.

In addition to writing science fiction, Judi and Don are internationally published haiga poets, fine artists, and award winning surface designers.

*****

Please visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by Judi and Don Hall:

The Gingezel Series

Gingezel 1: The Limit

Gingezel 2: From Bad to Worse

Gingezel 3: Fault

Gingezel 4: Hacker

The Octagla Series

Octagla 1: Slingshot Play

Octagla 2: Rematch

Octagla 4: Three-Peat? (coming next in the Octagla series)

*****

To learn more about Octagla and the Octagla players, and to see related art, please visit the official Gingezel Sci Fi site www.gingezelscifi.com..

