THE ALL-PRO (30 page)

Defending GFL champion Wabash Wolfpack (1-0) won a back-and-forth 42-34 thriller over the Hittoni Hullwalkers (0-1). Fullback Ralph Schmeer continued the red-zone dominance we saw in last year’s playoff run, rushing for touchdowns of 1 and 4 yards as well as catching a 3-yard pass from quarterback Rich Bennett.

The Orbiting Death (1-0) landed a 17-6 Week One shocker on the Lu Juggernauts (0-1). This is the first time in eight seasons that a newly promoted team won its opening game. The Texas Earthlings (0-1), the other promoted team, lost 48-10 to the New Rodina Astronauts (1-0).

Deaths

No deaths reported this week.

Offensive Player of the Week

Yall quarterback
Rick Renaud
, who threw for four touchdowns and no interceptions in a 28-for-33, 452-yard performance.

Defensive Player of the Week

Coranadillana defensive end
Jesper Schultz
, who had six solo tackles, two sacks and a fumble recovery in the Cloud Killers’ 28-10 loss to the To Pirates.

PLANET DIVISION

1-0 Ionath Krakens

1-0 OS1 Orbiting Death

1-0 To Pirates

1-0 Wabash Wolfpack

1-0 Yall Criminals

0-1 Alimum Armada

0-1 Coranadillana Cloud Killers

0-1 Hittoni Hullwalkers

0-1 Isis Ice Storm

0-1 Lu Juggernauts

0-1 Themala Dreadnaughts

SOLAR DIVISION

1-0 Bartel Water Bugs

1-0 Bord Brigands

1-0 Jupiter Jacks

1-0 Neptune Scarlet Fliers

1-0 New Rodina Astronauts

1-0 Sala Intrigue

0-1 D’Kow War Dogs

0-1 Jang Atom Smashers

0-1 Shorah Warlords

0-1 Texas Earthlings

0-1 Vik Vanguard

QUENTIN HUMMED THE TUNE
to “My Girl from Satirli 6” as he worked his technique. It was all in the wrist, really. There was no real sky above, but in his imagination the light came from an afternoon sun filtering through the overcast, soupy atmosphere of Micovi — not from the artificial lights that blazed through a screen of Ki vines and trees. He had few happy memories from Micovi. It felt good to channel the times when he had been in control, when he had excelled at a skill few people truly possessed.

Most of his Ki teammates relaxed in long hammocks or rested on the ground, studying holos of purple-and white-clad players from the Yall Criminals. A few, however, watched Quentin’s every motion. The big, bad Ki linemen seemed transfixed by his actions.

They were halfway through the trip from Ionath to Yall. The team’s morale ran high. Seeing IONATH KRAKENS at the top of the Planet Division standings generated a burning sense of pride in the players. Five teams were 1-0. Ionath was listed first only because of alphabetical order, but that didn’t matter — they
were
on top.

That pride made the team’s practices even better. They were taking a zigzag path to Yall, which meant a three-and-a-half-day trip. Normally, the shipping lanes specified a two-and-a-half-day trip — half-day from Ionath to Chillich, which took them into Sklorno Dynasty space, then one day each for the punches from Chillich to Chachanna and Chachanna to Yall. That lane, however, meant they popped out in the same area where the Sklorno shipping tragedy had happened, where 50,000 souls were lost. Lots of Creterakian military activity in that area, tight travel restrictions and the cause or culprits of the disaster had yet to be figured out. So instead, Captain Cheevers took them from Chachanna
back
into Quyth Concordia space to a dead planet called Waypoint. From Waypoint, they would do a one-day punch that would bring them out on Yall’s far side, away from the area of the disaster.

As Captain Kate sailed them along this slightly longer route, the Krakens banged away on the practice field, preparing for the major showdown with the Criminals. All games were equally important, granted, but the Criminals were 1-0 and tied for first. They also had quarterback Rick Renaud — the highest-paid player in league history. The defense couldn’t wait to get its hands (and pedipalps, and multi-jointed arms, and tentacles, and teeth) on Renaud who — by virtue of his huge contract — had become a big-game trophy. To sack him, to put him out of the game, that was to gain the attention of a galaxy.

After that day’s practice, Quentin had announced he would prepare a meal for the Ki players and for anyone else who wanted to join. Location: the forested clearing in the Ki offensive players’ quarters. The Ki, after all, had given him the hospitality of sharing their dinner. Now he would do the same for them. Called out in front of the entire organization, the Ki could do little but accept the offer.

Mum-O-Killowe, Sho-Do-Thikit, Bud-O-Shwek, Michael Kimberlin and John Tweedy stood near Quentin, watching him work the spatula. All seven HeavyG players were there, which wasn’t surprising — the big fellas never passed up a meal. Becca was around somewhere, but as long as she kept her distance, Quentin didn’t mind.

Only one Quyth Warrior player had come. It wasn’t hard to figure out why — Quentin had insisted that Tara the Freak be there. Where Tara was, the other Warriors were not. Tara stood off by himself, as usual, but at least he was there. Most of the team’s twelve Human players milled about, waiting to eat. Even Rick Warburg was in attendance, although Quentin suspected that was more for the Purist Nation-style food than for the company.

Don Pine was nowhere to be seen.

Shizzle fluttered over and perched on Mum-O’s shoulder, also peering down at the strange device Quentin had rolled into the Ki offensive quarters. Shizzle wore a yellow bodysuit that showed animated, flapping images of smaller Creterakians, also wearing yellow bodysuits.

Mum-O’s triangular lips curled. “Griha re krolla mej.”

Quentin looked up and smiled. He still didn’t understand the Ki language, he never would, but the more he got to know his teammates, the more he could imply meaning by tone, context and situation alone.

“What is this, you ask? This, my big, frightening friend, is called a
grill
. It is what one uses to properly barbecue.”

Quentin flipped one of the twenty burgers sitting on the metal rack, then turned the two dozen pieces of chicken sizzling with orangish-red sauce.

John pointed to a burger in the middle, which happened to be the largest one. He glared at Mum-O.

“
Mine
,” John said.
NOBODY TOUCHES DADDY’S FOOD
played across his face tattoo.

Mum-O stared at the grill, then grunted something barely audible. Quentin laughed — had a Human mumbled something to the same effect, it might have been
I don’t know about this
.

“Shizzle,” Quentin said. “Out with it. What did the great Mum-O-Killowe say?”

Shizzle flapped his ugly wings, adjusting his position on Mum-O’s shoulder. “The Great Mum-O-Killowe wants to know what you are doing with that ... that
ground-up
meat.”

“Cooking,” Quentin said. “I am making everyone hamburgers.”

A wisp of smoke breezed across Mum-O’s face. The big creature’s lips curled and he leaned back a bit. He grunted something short and to the point.

“The Great Mum-O-Killowe says you are ruining the animal flesh,” Shizzle said. “He said cooking is for elitists who over-complicate things to make themselves feel more important.”

Quentin laughed. “He said
that?
Really?”

“The Great Mum-O-Killowe is quite eloquent,” Shizzle said. “You are surprised?”

Quentin flipped the row of burgers again. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“How ironic,” Shizzle said. “You complain about sentients calling you a
stupid jock
, I believe is the phrase you use, yet you think the same thing about a Ki because you don’t understand his words.”

Quentin hated to be corrected, but Shizzle was right. “Yeah, Shizzle. I did think that.” Quentin turned to face Mum-O. “Oh, Great One, I sincerely apologize for my hypocrisy of underestimating your smarts.”

Quentin bowed, then stood up quickly, flicking the spatula as he did. A glob of greasy meat-fat flew off the end, landing on Mum-O’s arm.

The humongous Ki reared back, his black eyes widened. He looked amazingly similar to a giant-sized arachnaphobic HeavyG who suddenly found a hairy spider crawling on his arm.

“Sholl trubol!
Sholl kegante!
”

Mum-O scrambled backward, his arm held out and away from him. Shizzle flew up high, choosing discretion and altitude as the better parts of valor. Sho-Do-Thikit scuttled over, grabbed Mum-O’s arm and wiped it clean. Quentin didn’t know the Ki equivalent of red-faced embarrassment, but whatever it was, Mum-O had it in spades.

John Tweedy clapped in approval. “Awesome! You boogered him.”

“John,” Quentin said. “
Boogered him
? This is really a phrase you use?”

“Not just a phrase, Killer-Q.
Boogering
is a great way to show your love. In fact, I think I’m going to go booger my brother right now.”

John walked off,
LOVE IS IN THE AIR
scrolling in a continuous circle around his big neck.

Kimberlin shook his head as he watched John walk away. “This is going to end in a Tweedy brothers argument. Or a fight.”

Quentin nodded, brushed more sauce onto the sizzling chicken. The sauce was Mister Sam’s special recipe — best in the whole damn galaxy. The food was just about ready. “Michael, hand me those buns, will ya? I want to toast them up.”

Kimberlin started pulling the buns out of the box and handing them over, one at a time. “I have to tell you, Quentin, that Don never thought of something this clever.”

Quentin’s smile faded. Leave it to Pine’s old teammate to mention the man Quentin hated more than anything in the galaxy. “Genius Don Pine never thought of cooking for the Ki?”

Michael shook his head. “No. Not even once. He told me that before I came over. He said he was very impressed.”

“And yet, he’s not here.”

Michael shrugged. “He did not feel well, apparently. He said that for all the times he ate — I’m quoting him here —
the most disgusting crap one could possibly imagine
 — end quote — he did it for the team, but he never thought about turning the tables.”

Quentin shrugged as he placed the buns on the cooler areas of the grill. “Yeah, so he never thought of it? So what?”

“He said this is the kind of thing that will make you great.”

“Greatness is cooking burgers?”

“No, smart-ass,” Kimberlin said. “What will make you great is you think about things in ways that others do not. Humans and HeavyG have been eating with Ki teammates for a long time, part of the bonding process. But in all the years I’ve played, I never heard of a Human making Ki eat Human sustenance.”

Quentin gave the burgers one more flip. “Oh, come on. I ate their gross food, now they can eat mine and see what it’s like. This isn’t rocket science.”

“Which is fortuitous, as you are no scientist of rockets.”

Quentin looked up, smiled. “Big Mike, did you just rip on me?”

“It’s Michael. And yes, I did jest at your expense. No, it’s not
rocket science
, Quentin, but it is a very basic, simple idea that no one else thought of. That kind of insight can’t be taught. You either have it or you do not.”

“You and Don put a lot of importance on some ground-up meat.”

“And you don’t put enough importance on your brain,” Kimberlin said. “Perhaps someday you should think of using your natural abilities for something greater than football.”

Quentin paused. Hadn’t Yitzhak said something similar, back in Danny Lundy’s waiting area? Well, whatever. Kimberlin and Yitzhak could conjure up whatever they wanted, Quentin knew his destiny and would not stray from the path. “Hold those platters for me, it’s time to chow.”

Quentin quickly placed the patties on buns, then set the burgers on the first platter. He made sure to put the biggest one on top. He loaded the second platter with chicken. He set the spatula down and took the heaping platters from Kimberlin. Quentin walked to the stone table, then stopped in his tracks when he saw what was on it.