The Alpha Choice (30 page)

Whatever they expected, it was not that. Some looked at each other for confirmation they all heard the same thing, others simply stared at Gorn, not believing that was all he had to say. Zan just smiled, and Genir? Well, he had spent the last few minutes testing how much slower he had become, while gaining a kilo on shore leave, what his friend had said was of no concern to him, he was a lot slower.

Zan clapped his hands, and told the team to run through some exercises.

The practice session was disappointing. It consisted, by and large, of Gorn passing to teammates in scenarios that made no sense. The goal remained unthreatened, and none of the passes were to Genir, who seemed less concerned with passing, and more concerned with his lack of speed. After an hour Zan wrapped it up.
 

Very little, or to be more precise, nothing was said in the changing rooms. On the way back to the shuttle Genir apologised for himself and Gorn, by telling the others that as they had come separately, they had to return the same way. ‘Orders,’ he shrugged.

If the rest of the team were disappointed they would not be sharing a shuttle with their new recruit, they hid it well.

As they split off, most going to the teleport stations, Gorn and Genir moving towards their waiting shuttle, Gorn overheard a conversation. ‘We’re dead, I managed to swing tickets for my parents and my little sister, they’re travelling ninety light years to see us get crushed!’

‘What was the Commander thinking, has he even seen him play?’

‘They say he’s the best.’

‘Then, whoever said that better hadn’t get in my way.’

Zan said nothing.

Gorn and Genir stopped at the shuttle doors, as they watched their teammates teleport. Soon they were alone in the hangar, save for the shuttle pilot.

Genir indicated with his head towards the now vacant teleport stations. ‘I see you're as popular as ever,’ Gorn’s only response was to point out to his friend how slow he had become.

Genir shook his head. ‘I’m beginning to think I should start playing a tactical game, like you.’

‘In that case we really are dead,’ was Gorn’s glum response.

Ω

The day of the great match arrived. Two hundred and forty thousand spectators were taking their seats while, throughout the Empire everyone, with the exception of essential personnel, would position themselves at various times, before holo-images, awaiting the start of the most eagerly awaited zagball game in living memory.
 

Initially, the sports critics had given scant regard to the chances of a single ship, against the distilled strength of the fleet, but a few days before the match, the Council leaked information concerning the almost superhuman skills of Gorn. Soon, fans were watching interviews with former teammates, and opponents from the Academy. Some of the most graphic descriptions of his playing ability came from people, who had never seen him play. Eventually, based purely on conjecture and rumour, the populace began to believe Eclipse actually stood a chance.

Then, hours before the match was due to start, a secret recording of the disastrous practice session was obtained by the media, and very quickly became public knowledge. This provided more fodder to the commentators and gossips, than all the official statements and interviews.

By the time the teams met, most of the crowd were firmly of the view that Fleet would demolish Eclipse, with only a tiny minority rooting for the underdogs.

The hype generated by the Council had never been equalled. By tapping into the overwhelming feelings of aggression, and jingoism accompanying the match, it would garner support for what followed - the seamless conquest of Telluria.

As the teams entered the arena, they were greeted by a thunderous response from the crowd. Spectators were split into two camps, those who anticipated the greatest exhibition in living memory, and those who expected an anticlimax, of legendary proportions. Either way, the match itself was becoming of secondary importance to a single figure, Gorn. Even those who had witnessed his ineffectiveness in the recording, remained fascinated.

The man himself, was oblivious to the interest he engendered. Gossip and celebrity held no fascination for him and so, when he entered the arena to a deafening roar from the throats of almost a quarter of a million people, he was bemused. Genir came over, and slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Told you I was popular!’
 

Zan was grim-faced, not out of concern or fear, but from determination. Nodding to Gorn and Genir, they reciprocated. The rest of the team had all seen the recorded practice session, which looked worse than their recollections. They all had the look of men, who had just stared into a blinding light, appearing lost and confused. Every one of them had been grilled by friends and family alike, and none had enough guile to dress it up as anything other than what it was, a disaster. The trooper, whose family had travelled ninety light years, was nervously scanning the rows of spectators; he knew where his family’s seats were, and willed them to be empty, it was a forlorn hope.

The noise from the crowd abated, as the men of Eclipse drifted into the cuboid.

Fleet began to circle the cuboid. The noise from the crowd began to grow, until it was louder than when they were first greeted, and the objects of the adoration loved it! Twelve men from Eclipse regarded their opponents, and their hearts sank; the men lapping the cuboid appeared to have been magnified one hundred and fifty percent, they were huge! Eclipse had played against each and every one of these men, but not all together. While the size of their opponents was impressive enough, each one of them had lightening reflexes, and a remarkable ability to read the game.

Having drawn all the acclaim they needed, Fleet soared into the cuboid and began to limber up.
 

There could be no doubt in the minds of the crowd, Fleet was invincible. The only thing that could increase the humiliation of Eclipse would be the vast numbers, beyond the arena, who would witness their ignominious failure.
 

The noise in the stadium had reached a level where Gorn and Genir could hardly hear themselves, but then Fleet began to run through some routines. Their speed, and the accuracy of their passing were truly mind-blowing. Within three minutes, the entire stadium was silent. The realisation of what Eclipse faced had now become apparent to all who watched, even the loyal few watched their sliver of hope tumble to the floor of the arena.

Many of those in the crowd were former zagball players, and as such knew how difficult Fleet’s routines were, each movement was executed flawlessly.

All eyes moved from Fleet to Eclipse, and what they saw appeared painfully slow and laboured, by comparison. It now occurred to everyone, including twelve Eclipse players, that Fleet must have practised, non-stop for weeks. In a matter of moments, all excitement had drained from the game.

The players: Eclipse, in black; Fleet, in white, clasped their opponent’s arms in the military way, and moved to take their places within the cuboid.

Ω

Every player had a personal deflector on each arm, giving him the choice of deflecting the ball or, catching then throwing it. Throwing was done at close quarters, between players, or to bring into play the deflector emitters, spaced around the perimeter of each level of the cuboid. Use of the deflectors vastly increased the speed of the trajectory.
 

Each level of the play area was thirty metres high, with energy fields extending three metres beyond both the vertical and horizontal boundaries of the cuboid. If the ball went beyond the edge, either by a badly executed throw or deflection, it would simply stop, all momentum gone, waiting for the first player to get to it, and take it back into play.

Once the ball was deflected it accelerated, the speed increasing almost exponentially with successive deflections. This made directional control increasingly difficult, as well as being quite dangerous to a player if he was struck by the light, non-metallic, but still very hard object that was the ball. Quite often a player had to be removed from play, unconscious. If such a thing happened, he was not allowed to re-enter the cuboid for that segment of the match.

The playing time would last one hour, split into three segments with a six-minute break between each. Because of the speed of the ball, it had long ago been decided that human referees were not appropriate; all refereeing decisions were made by the cuboid itself and communicated to the players and spectators, instantly. No appeals were considered.

Ω

As the teams readied themselves, tension within the audience, magnified by the silence, which had not been broken since Fleet’s earlier display of superiority, became palpable. The announcement of
Match on
would be strangely muted, as the words would simply be spoken, with no hint of the emotion the game would bring.
 

The ball - twelve centimetres in diameter, and matte black to permit no reflections, while being easy to grip - was elevated, and manoeuvred over the centre of the upper cuboid level, there to await the command which would cause it to drop towards the waiting players below.
 

Positioned at opposite sides of the drop point, at the minimum regulation distance of three metres from each other, and no closer than one metre from the drop point, were: Genir, for Eclipse; and a giant of a forward, Daraq, for Fleet.

The start was only seconds away, all spectators’ eyes on the ball, all players’ eyes on each other. Unlike other games, where participants were encouraged never to take their eyes off the ball, zagball required each player to know where every opponent was, and where they were moving to, as the ball dropped, in adrenalin induced slow motion.

The one constant was that the ball would drop into the dead centre of the upper level. To this end, Genir and Daraq were more like fighters, anticipating their opponent’s first move…
 

Match on
. The ball fell silently between the opposing forwards. Daraq moving with dizzying speed and took the ball in his right hand while turning in a pirouette. The move was balletic except for the part where his left elbow followed through and caught Genir, squarely on the jaw. Equally quickly, he handed off the ball to a player coursing down the right wing who, in turn, threw the ball at the nearest deflector. Already three of Fleet’s forwards were in position.
 

Zan spoke commands through his communicator, too little, too late. The nearest of the forwards took the deflection, imparting a side spin which sent the ball in the general direction of a striker just shy of the right side of goal. Sending a rather dim-witted defender the wrong way, he took the deflection and, instead of deflecting it at goal – the obvious tactic - sent it at breathtaking speed towards a teammate to his left who, with matching lightening reflexes, crashed the ball into the sensor grid, past the hapless keeper, Goal!

The whole move, from start to finish took less than six-seconds. Eclipse was not even close to stopping the onslaught. It was as though they had been drugged.
 

Fleet supporters were ecstatic, while the non-partisan crowd, were astounded by the level of skill on display, at least from Fleet. It was clear where the support for Eclipse lay, in the seats where the fans were as animated as their team.

Unique to zagball, the side conceding a goal did not restart the game. The ball was dropped again, into the centre. This time Daraq took the ball with his left hand and performed a mirror image manoeuvre. When three Eclipse defenders attempted to outflank Fleet, the attackers switched sides. Because of this detour, the second goal took all of nine-seconds.

The game continued in this way throughout the first segment and achieved, if possible in such a highly charged sport, something approaching boring predictability. Genir was completely outgunned, his opponent constantly changed tactics to be one step ahead. Genir’s lack of speed was readily apparent. Some of the neutral crowd, in an effort to find some saving virtue in Eclipse, marvelled at his ability to withstand so many blows at the hands of Daraq.
 

There was only one team in the cuboid, and as talk slowly began to ripple through the arena, no one could recall seeing such a one sided contest

What of Gorn? Most of those in the stadium, including Fleet supporters, were beginning to feel sorry for him; he was simply lost in the middle of the first level, looking here and there, unable to take part in a game that was passing him by. Increasing numbers of spectators were activating communication between the seats, and soon everyone was agreeing that perhaps his recent bereavement had affected him more than anyone had thought.

Within the cuboid, Eclipse began to fight back. While still unable to prevent the scoring, they at least slowed it. Led by Zan, they stubbornly hurled themselves at their opponents causing a momentary lapse in Fleet concentration. By the first break the score stood at Fleet 24: Eclipse 0. Never before had such a margin existed after the first third.

Because of the rarity of tickets, precedent held that no one, save in the case of a medical emergency, could leave the stadium before the end of the match. Eclipse players, and supporters alike, shared the same fate, they were doomed to see out the entirety of the humiliation.

During the interval, spectators both inside and outside the stadium were treated to expert commentary from pundits, and former zagball stars. Trying to be upbeat, they discussed the tactics that Eclipse might employ in their recovery, but no one listening was convinced.
 

The roving camera found Commander Darl who looked as though he was watching his career disappear with his team’s chances. Not a very popular man, even he evinced some sympathy from the commentators. Their attention then turned to the teams themselves. Fleet were taking refreshment and limbering to keep their muscles from seizing.
 

Of most interest, to observers, was the team captain going over to Gorn. Zan was clearly doing most of the speaking - rules provided that no team conversations could be overheard - while all Gorn was able to do was point at other players as though passing blame. Zan shook his head and moved off, speaking to each team member in turn, attempting to build morale from nothing. Most telling was that Genir and Gorn did not speak, or even come close to each other.