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Analog Science Fiction And Fact - June 2014 Page 11


  He stood and pounded his fist against his locker. "Yo, listen up."

  "The hell, man?"

  Markus raised his voice. "I never thought I'd see this team turn into a bunch of losers. Sitting around waiting for them to hand your asses to you in the second half? Not me."

  "You miss the news?" the strong safety said. "Kat tore her ACL. Hardwick's gonna trample us."

  Markus got into her face. "Hardwick's a cheat. He hurt Kat on purpose. You gonna let him get away with that?"

  One of the linemen stood. "How the hell'd he do that?"

  "I don't know. Some kind of miniature GEM generator or something. Sheared her knee with a microburst."

  "Son of a bitch."

  Most of his teammates were on their feet now, murmuring. Markus saw intensity in their eyes. "We going to let them get away with hurting Kat?"

  "Hell no!"

  "Then let's get out there and tear them a new one!"

  His teammates charged out of the locker room, shouting. Markus followed.

  "Wait up, Greene," Coach said from behind.

  "What's up, Coach?"

  "I appreciate you firing up the defense and all. Lord knows they needed it. But you can't just accuse a guy of cheating like that."

  "But he is cheating. He manipulated the GEM forces, cut Kat's knee out beneath her."

  "You have proof?"

  "He was with the Fischer girl back in college—"

  "Get off that conspiracy theory shit." Coach's eyes burned with intensity. "Get your head in the game and keep it there."

  Markus glared at Coach for a long moment. "I'm right about this." He turned abruptly and trotted out to the field.

  The offense got the ball first and started the half with a long scoring drive. "Now that's what I'm talking about," Markus said. "We're back in this game! Now let's do our part." He trotted onto the field with his defense.

  "Will 'backer goes on a zone blitz, roll safety coverage over Hardwick."

  "Right, Coach." He doesn't trust a backup cornerback one-on-one with Hardwick. "Gee setting?"

  "I'll go heavy, but count on them to bring it way down. They'll want to test Kat's backup deep."

  Markus's weight decreased at the snap, and he dropped back to cover the middle of the field. He glanced left and saw Hardwick, as expected, bounding downfield. "McFee, stay on his outside shoulder."

  "Huh?"

  Hardwick was going to eat him alive. No time to think. Act. Markus scanned the backfield and saw his Will linebacker barreling toward the quarterback. He overshot, and the QB stepped up, scrambling, looking to set for the throw.

  Markus charged forward, shooting into the line like a bullet. Too late. The QB planted his feet and heaved deep.

  Markus planted both feet and launched himself, converting his momentum into a tremendous leap in the low gee. He threw his arms up and felt the sting of the ball deflecting off his fingertips. He heard the crowd roar, then fall silent as the ball drifted to the ground.

  Coach's voice shouted in his ear. "What the hell are you doing out there, Greene?"

  "Making a play."

  "You left the middle wide open. If the QB had seen the slot receiver, she'd have gone for six."

  "His eyes were glued to Hardwick all the way."

  "Damn it, just stay in position."

  Next play was a short pass over the middle. Uh-uh, you ain't catching me away from home. Markus drilled the tight end. Incomplete.

  Screen pass, defensed by the strong safety. Seven yard gain, fourth down. Punt.

  By the end of the third quarter, down by three, Markus had the defensive rhythm down. Sandwiching Hardwick between McFee and the strong safety took him out of the game.

  He can't cheat the deflection force if the QB can't throw the ball his way.

  The offense scored the go-ahead touchdown midway through the fourth quarter, and the Giants changed strategy. Hardwick on intermediate routes across the middle.

  Right in Markus's turf.

  First time Markus got caught looking into the backfield. They dialed up the gee a few points and he bit on the run. Hardwick got behind him and turned upfield with the ball. The free safety saved Markus's ass with a nice open field tackle.

  "Gotta watch those ACL injuries," Hardwick said with a vicious grin. "Could be a career en-der."

  Markus spit out his rebreather and turned, fists balled. "You looking to get popped?" He took a step after him.

  Let it go.

  He purposefully turned his head to the sidelines, breathing hard. "What's the call, Coach?"

  "Cover one over Hardwick's side, but watch the crossing route. They like to dial the gee up on those, so I'm going to drop it a bit."

  "Got it."

  Gee stayed steady at the snap. Hardwick broke from McFee and cut across Markus's zone. The QB's head swiveled his way and the ball came out. Markus closed the gap, barreling full-tilt toward Hardwick.

  Minimal deflection, stay steady.

  Head lowered, braced for impact. Thump. His entire upper plastiform carapace stiffened. Hardwick collapsed on his back and the ball sailed overhead. Boos rained down from the crowd.

  Yellow flag.

  Damn.

  "Pass interference, number 53, defense. Spot of the foul, first down."

  Hardwick popped to his feet and grinned at him. "Maybe you need to twist a knee, too."

  Rage burned Markus's face. "You're going down."

  "Nah, on second thought, you're too much fun to play with."

  Markus raised his fist, but McFee grabbed his arm from behind. An official stepped in the middle of it.

  Coach's voice could have blistered his ear. "What the hell was that, Greene?"

  "Guy needed his face rubbed in the turf. Still does."

  "Get your head out of your ass or I'll sit you down."

  "He was jawing about Kat."

  "Two more like that and they'll be in field goal position. Now calm the hell down and do your job. Cover two, light, Mike blitz."

  Markus swiveled his head to the sideline, incredulous. "You want me to blitz? You can't be serious."

  "Do your job, Greene."

  "You'll leave Hardwick wide open in the middle."

  "Do your job."

  Markus made the call and gravity went light. He launched himself up and forward, timing it so he landed right behind the left tackle. The tackles pulled a stunt on these blitz packages, and Markus shot the gap between them.

  With low-gee, he made sure he came in high in case the QB lobbed the ball up. If he gets the ball to Hardwick, he's gone.

  The QB pulled the ball down and sidestepped Markus, but then he had to deal with the defensive end barreling toward him. Markus landed light as a feather and twisted. His left foot absorbed a lot of his momentum before the plastiform at his ankle stiffened. But the twist launched him again, right at the QB's back. He jammed his shoulder into his back and took him down.

  Markus popped to his feet, arms raised. The defensive end batted him on the helmet. "That's how you do it!"

  Coach's voice sounded in his ear. "Now do you trust me?"

  Markus deflated just a bit. "Sorry, Coach."

  "Now let's close it out. "Cover two, light. You got Hardwick if he crosses the middle."

  "Thanks, Coach."

  Gee went up, slightly. Hardwick cut in front of Markus. No appreciable deflection, and he made the catch easily. Markus swore and dragged him down. Third and five coming up.

  "Too easy," Hardwick said.

  "That was your last one."

  Hardwick sneered. "Get near me and you'll be on injured reserve before you know what hit you."

  Rage rose again, but the voice in his headset stopped him cold. "It ain't no thing," Kat said.

  Markus's head swung to the sidelines. Kat stood on crutches next to Coach, a wide grin on her face. "Good to hear your voice," Markus said.

  "Get your game on," she said. "Hardwick's going to pull out all the stops, and you know what that means."
<
br />   Coach took the headset from her. "We're going with the same defense, cover two, light."

  It was normally the right call, Markus thought, but it wouldn't work. Hardwick would take him out with his mystery force generator, sure as hell.

  Play clock wound down, quarterback started his snap count.

  He was out of time.

  No.

  He stood and made a T with his hands. "Time out."

  "What the hell, Greene?" Coach's voice neared the threshold of pain. "Get to the god-damned sideline. Now."

  He trotted to the sideline with the rest of the defense. "Sorry Coach, but we need to change it up."

  "What the hell were you thinking? The offense might need that time out if the Giants score here."

  "I know. But traditional defense isn't going to work here. I need you to trust me this time." He turned to Kat. "If we can't figure out how he's cheating the forces, and I mean right now, we're going to lose this game."

  Kat nodded. "And your ACL. Or worse. We don't know how much force he can generate."

  "Aw hell, you too?" Coach turned away, holding his head.

  Kat swore in frustration. "How can we find his limitations if we don't even know how he's doing it?"

  Limitations? Markus latched onto the word, rolled it around his mind. There must be boundaries. "Kat, what was the ball's deflection like when he took your knee out?"

  "Low-g pass, it turned inward."

  "Just like normal?"

  "Yeah, just like—oh! He had to choose between the ball and my knee."

  "Right. That's the key."

  Coach interrupted. "Time's up. Get back out there. Cover two, light, you know the—"

  "Go heavy, Coach."

  "They like heavy on these crossing routes."

  "I know. I'm counting on it."

  "Then why the hell—"

  "Just trust me, Coach."

  "Get the hell out on the field."

  Markus pulled his faceplate down and trotted onto the field. Everything hinged on Coach now. If he dialed the gee down...

  The center snapped the ball.

  A giant sat on Markus's back, squeezing the air out of his lungs and pressing his feet hard against the turf. The plastiform at his ankles and knees stiffened. He smiled and sucked hard on his rebreather. Maintaining blood O 2 saturation was going to be critical.

  Hardwick cut toward Markus, moving fast for the gee level.

  Markus took tiny steps, running carefully in the high-g. Every step sent a shock wave through his legs and up his spine. He took a steep angle, one that would bring him behind Hardwick.

  Choose, you bastard.

  Hardwick hesitated. Gotcha!

  Markus saw him make his decision. He sped past, taking the inside position. Where the ball would go without deflection.

  You can shear my knee or counter the deflection. Not both.

  Now came the hard part. With Hardwick committing to his position, Markus had little time to close the gap. He drove the balls of his feet deep into the turf, pushing himself to a dead run at high-g.

  The ball came out of the backfield. Markus's chest burned, his heart thumped hard in his ears. His blood O 2 indicator flashed red as the numbers fell.

  He thought he heard the crowd cheering wildly, or maybe it was Coach screaming in his headset. The ball sailed in a low arc, just ahead. Jumping was not an option at this gee. One more step.

  Arm out, fingers extended.

  The ball came in hot, stinging his fingers. He batted upward as hard as he could.

  The ball looked like it stopped in place, tracing the slightest upward arc, before plummeting downward. He stumbled forward, a burning pain shooting through his ankle, and grabbed the ball with both hands.

  His upper carapace stiffened with impact from behind. The ground hit with a sharp thump that sent a shock of pain through his back and chest. The whistle blew and normal-g returned. He lay on the turf, wheezing oxy-mix deep into his lungs, with the ball firmly clenched in his hands and Hardwick lying on top.

  The home crowd of Giants fans was dead silent. He rolled over to get up, and Hardwick punched the ball. It shifted, and Markus tightened his grip. "It's over, man."

  "No way," Hardwick screamed. "No way." He swung again, harder.

  "Get off me, asshole." He balled a fist, ready to strike back. No. No way was he going to let his team down this time. Coach had put his trust in him, and for once in his damned life he was going to be worthy of it.

  Whistles blew, and two officials pulled Hardwick from him. "After the interception, personal foul, number 81, offense. Fifteen yard penalty, first down."

  Markus started to get up, made it to his hands and knees when Hardwick pointed his jaw at him and hit a toggle inside his faceplate with his chin. A blast of force caught Markus and threw him violently to the turf. His plastiform stiffened, but not before electric pain shot through his elbow.

  Tens of thousands of spectators gasped as one. Markus crawled to his feet, grinning despite the pain. He'd just won, and from the look in Hardwick's eyes he knew it too.

  Markus turned away without a word and limped off the field. The limp reminded him of the pain in his ankle. He was going to have to put in a lot of time in the training room to get healthy for next week. But there would be a next week. He knew in his heart that the offense would eat up the last few minutes and preserve the win. He trusted them. He trusted Coach.

  Kat caught him on the sideline. "All right, spill. How did you keep him from ripping your knees up?"

  "I gambled that he could only produce one force—either cancel the ball's deflection or take out my legs. So I gave him a choice."

  She nodded vigorously. "You settled where the ball would go with the gravitomagnetic deflection force working. If he went for your legs, he'd never make the catch."

  "Well, I am a genius, you know."

  "But what if he had decided to take you out and take his chances on fourth down?"

  Markus shrugged. "Another gamble. Your plastiform was supposed to stiffen fast enough to protect your knee from a shearing force, but apparently Hardwick's mystery force was faster. But I was running at high-g, so my plastiform stiffened every time my knee supported my weight."

  "And they call me crazy?" She laughed. "You took a hell of a risk."

  "Someone had to stop the guy. He was a menace."

  "Greene!" Coach's voice carried across the sidelines. "What the hell was that out there?"

  "Uh, Coach?"

  "I'll tell you what it was. Damn good defense. Prettiest high-g interception I ever seen." An honest-to-goodness grin split his face, but only for a moment.

  Markus gave him a nod. "Better get working on next week's game plan, Coach."

  "In the wake of the GEM scandal surrounding Giants wide receiver Dom Hardwick, Fish-Co announced a breakthrough in the manipulation of the gravitomagnetic force. Researchers have been able to generate the little-known force independently of the gravitoelectric force by using a revolutionary technique that does not require the rapid rotation of heavy superconducting drums. A spokesman for Fish-Co says that a tiny prototype device was stolen from a secure research facility and somehow made its way into Hardwick's hands. Speculation centers on Marta Fischer, who had been romantically involved with the football star. Sources close to Miss Fischer indicate that the young woman had hoped to reconcile with her former lover."

  —AP/UPI Newsnet

  * * *

  The Region of Jennifer

  Tony Ballantyne | 6849 words

  The region of Jennifer extended to about thirty kilometers. Out there, amongst the decaying factory belt, daffodils pushed their heads through the tired earth of the canal banks.

  The Steam Barons may have lost their power, but the world still bore their scars. Even so, Jennifer was at work to make things beautiful. At twenty kilometers, shining fields of buttercups lapped the slag heaps, At ten kilometers there were avenues of laburnum, the strings of yellow flowers drooping over rusting
railway lines. At one kilometer the fields gave way to green lawns as smooth as a billiards table. A team of gardeners labored constantly to unstitch the Abraxan threadweed that wriggled blindly up from deep below ground. Gardeners pruned the fruit trees, they collected the oranges and peaches into baskets to be stacked in the cool rooms by the kitchens of Jennifer's house.

  The house was the stationary heart of the region of Jennifer. The maid would open the front door in her yellow dress and white pinafore and show guests into a reception room striped with yellow and white wallpaper where they would be served pale golden earl grey tea. Usually, Jennifer would come down to meet them, but a very fortunate few would be ushered upstairs to her private rooms.

  Jennifer's rooms were painted in yellow and gold. They were decorated with gifts brought from around the Universe: diamond casts from the ice caves of Lithium; living gold leaf from Aral 9. Jennifer would sit on the brocade sofa in the center of the room wearing a simple white dress over a silk slip. Beneath the slip, silk underwear, a hand stitched brassiere, silk knickers. And beneath the silk knickers, the reason for all of this extravagance.

  That was Jennifer, life support system for a womb. A womb that, in eight days time, was due to receive its first passenger.

  But not if Randy had anything to do with it.

  Randy's life had taken a very different direction to Jennifer's. There was no region of Randy. Randy was the region of Randy in its entirety. Randy had no home: he had been re-engineered that way. His skin was thick and leathery, so well insulated that he could sleep in the pools of cold water that filled the broken basements of the broken factories in the former industrial zone. When the outsiders had come to Abraxas and bankrupted the Steam Barons, Randy's re-engineering decision looked to have been the smart choice. As the economy collapsed across the planet, as the work dried up and the bread lines grew, as the engines fell silent and the trains stopped moving, people came to envy those like Randy. Having metacarbon teeth that could bite through bone and a metacarbon laced stomach lining containing acids and catalysts that could dissolve and metabolize just about anything organic seemed like a great thing. Especially when you were half starving and getting by on a diet of boiled Abraxan threadweed and however many Abraxan bloodworms you could pull from the ground. Those who had put their faith in property and fine clothes, people like Jennifer, in fact, seemed to have backed the wrong horse.