Touch and go, p.21
Touch and Go, page 21
The Jhaateezians pulled out all their tricks to distract, trying to swoop in and steal. But the Zeenods now had that seemingly effortless control, the flow. As soon as the Jhaateezians focused on trying to extract the ball from Doz, Doz would pass to Wayt, and as soon as Wayt got it, the ball was sailing to Sormie. With swift grace, the Zeenods were working their way up the field, almost as if in rhythm. And that was when the singing in the stadium began. The Zeenod fans could feel the flow of ahn and they responded, standing and letting their voices stream out.
Suddenly Giac took off for the ice, and two Jhaateezians immediately zipped after her. Albert and all the Zeenods knew without speaking what a spectacular move this was, spectacular because the Zeenods had no intention of using the ice, and Giac knew it. Like a magnet, she was deliberately drawing the opponents toward her—and away from the real action. The departure of those defenders left a lovely hole for the Zeenods to fill.
Happy to respond, Albert rocketed to the box. Sormie passed him the ball, and with one lovely left-footed kick, Albert fired it over the keeper’s head. With a satisfying force, it slammed into the net. It was a beautiful, soul-satisfying goal, but before Albert could enjoy it, he saw the Jhaateezian defender sliding toward him. It was going to be a late, crunchy tackle, a takedown, a bash, a wallop, a bad, bad bruising. Time seemed to freeze, and Albert thought, No way, not now! Summoning his strength at the last moment, Albert dove, somersaulting over his opponent and landing back on his feet.
The crowd cheered, and then Albert could feel the reality of the goal sink in: 3–2 Zeeno! Almost in shock, Albert looked at Sormie and his other teammates. “We’re in the lead!”
“Woohoo!” Doz shouted. “Full steam in the head!”
“We can’t celebrate yet!” Feeb warned. “Two minutes left on the clock. They could still get one back.”
“Focus, team!” Ennjy cried out.
Holding back their joy, the Zeenods took their positions and faced their opponents. The sounds from the crowd were deafening, and Albert felt slightly dizzy, adrenaline pumping through his system. Then the ball was in play, and the Jhaateezians leaped into action.
Desperate with two minutes left, the Jhaateezians set up a risky shot. One of them sent a long ball toward Linnd, who was positioning herself nicely to receive it, and the stadium erupted. Fans on both sides were stomping so vigorously, the glass ceiling above them seemed to rattle. But as the ball descended, Doz leaped into the air and headed the ball away. Giac was there to win it, and immediately, the Zeenods moved in and began passing.
The Zeenods in the stands started singing again. Albert felt a smile spreading on his face. The clock was ticking and they were doing their tiki-taka with style. All they had to do was keep the Jhaateezians from scoring and they would win.
“Albert!” Doz called, and passed him the ball.
And just as the ball came sailing toward Albert, just as Albert was thinking to himself how much he loved his team, how much he loved this game, the final trumpet blew, signaling time.
The ball stopped in midair.
Game over!
The crowd went wild.
“Zeeno wins with three goals!” The game-over announcement blared from the loudspeakers.
Albert sank to his knees. Everything he had done to arrive at this moment—training, performing in the Skill Show, dealing with his shawbles, facing the haagoolts with Tackle, escaping with Trey, outsmarting the Tevs, negotiating with Mehk, piloting the sled down that crazy snow-covered hill, making those mistakes in the first half—it came rushing back in a surreal jumble of images. With help, he had survived it all. With the help of Lee, Tackle, and his team, he had been able to deliver what he most wanted: his best effort to help his friends win.
Relief and gratitude flooded him, and then came the joy.
19.11
From the cloaked, hovering ITV, the botmaker worked feverishly to make adjustments. It had never occurred to him that the szoŭ wouldn’t work, and he wasn’t sure if the problem was related to his system or if a flaw had developed in his creation. He hadn’t been able to monitor the robotic Trey ever since he had been imprisoned.
Casting another search to pinpoint the robot’s new location, Mehk received an alarming alert. He knew exactly where the robot was, but the robot’s system appeared to have gone dark. No functions available. He tried to activate the szoŭ again. Nothing.
His entire body began to shake. There was no way he could leave without knowing what had gone wrong. If he couldn’t bring his creation up, he had to go down.
His mind was swimming. Beaming to Earth had not been a part of his plan. Was it too reckless or was it possible?
He installed a breathing implant, programmed the ITV to continue hovering in its current cloaked position, adjusted a manual override code, and initiated the szoŭ for himself. The moment he materialized in the park, he took in the situation. His robot lay at his feet. Beyond the bushes stood a vendor cart, and beyond that, he could see the dog eating. Quickly, he picked up the robot and fled, running behind the restrooms and into the shadows of the nearby woods.
19.12
Tackle was lapping up the last of the water when the police arrived.
Freddy called out to the officer from the truck window. “The dog bit my friend in the throat and he dragged him behind these bushes. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes.”
Tackle looked up. He had been so focused on food and water, he had forgotten where he was or what was happening. Suddenly, his ears snapped up. He sniffed. Something was not right. That smell! That szoŭ smell was in the air. Tackle ran toward the bushes. The robot was gone. Lingering on the bushes and in the air was a complex set of aromas. The szoŭ must have worked to beam the robot up, Tackle thought.
The officer drew her gun and began slowly approaching Tackle.
Tackle knew he was not a killer dog, but the officer didn’t know that. Tackle also knew there was no murdered body to see, but he couldn’t explain that to the officer, either. Taking a chance, he decided to make a run for it.
Using the bushes as cover, he took off, zooming away before the officer could even react.
In no time, he was making the turn onto the Kinneys’ street. By the time he arrived, Mrs. Patterson and Trey were getting into the car.
“Tackle!” Trey was the first to notice him.
Tackle slowed to a trot and tried to look natural. Wagging his tail, he headed for Trey, who crouched and gave him a hug.
Trey smelled terrible. Stinky clothes. Stinky pits. Stinky skin.
Tackle smiled. The real Trey.
But the lovefest didn’t last long. “Bad Tackle!” Mrs. Patterson took him by the collar. “Don’t reward him for running off, Trey! Bad, bad dog! Worrying us at a time like this!”
She was about to pull him inside when a police car pulled up. Freddy’s wide-eyed face was in the back window. The officer got out. “I’m Officer Tanner. I’m looking for the Patterson family. Trey Patterson?”
“I’m Cynthia Patterson and this is my son, Trey. I was just about to take him to the doctor. He fell when he was almost hit by a truck. I assumed it wasn’t bad, but he keeps saying he just returned from camp. I think he may have a concussion.”
The officer looked at the boy and the dog standing next to Mrs. Patterson.
“He wasn’t just attacked by that dog at the park?” the officer asked. Tackle sat obediently and gave the police officer his sweetest look.
19.13
With the johka ball still suspended in its game-over position in midair, Albert glanced around. All the Zeenod players stood motionless in shock. And then Doz yelled, “We won!” and they all ran toward each other, hugging and yelling.
Reeda appeared at the top of the deck with a medical sleeve around her ribs and a smartskin bandage around her head. “We won!” she exclaimed, and skated down to join them.
The geodesic dome above them suddenly lit up with a dazzling array of lights, and the Jhaateezian ritual to celebrate the winners began. Laser beams were projected across the ice, and one hundred or so Jhaateezian musicians took to the slopes. Around and around the musicians skated, amplifying different notes as they passed through the laser beams, making music with their movements, a symphony of Jhaateezian sound.
Albert thought back to the Zeeno ritual after the first game, that moment when the vacha-blossom petals fell from the sky like snowflakes and when the ahda birds sang a song so ethereal, it lifted them off their feet.
“Two games,” Feeb said, stunned.
The Jhaateezians and Linnd joined the Zeenods and Albert on the field to offer their congratulations. They looked sad to have lost—no doubt about it. But it was a fair game.
When the symphony ended, the Zeenod anthem was announced and everyone in the stands stood. As the Zeenods on the field and in the stands began to sing, Albert felt the energy of the ahn expand. He looked around. Bems were extending, eyes turning gold.
They had played without subs. They had played without a coach. And they had almost played without a Star Striker, Albert thought. Against the odds, they had won. The ahn filled him and made him feel more alive than he’d ever felt. He had completed his second game on his second planet in the Fŭigor Solar System, and he still couldn’t believe it.
The medal ceremony came next, and the presidents took their places on the field. It was then that Albert’s mind snapped back to President Lat, to Mehk, to Kayko, and to the occupation. Anger quickly replaced his joy, and he felt the tension rising in his Zeenod teammates, too. There was the Zeenod president smiling and waving at the crowd, acting as if nothing were wrong.
“We must have evidence before we confront the authorities,” Ennjy said. “For now, we focus on this johka triumph.”
Bowing to the president of Jhaateez, President Lat said, “The planet of Zeeno humbly thanks the Jhaateez players for a game well played.”
The Jhaateezian president bowed and gave his congratulations.
The Zeenod fans cheered, and President Lat began placing a new victory medal around the neck of each Zeenod player, smiling but avoiding eye contact. A media drone followed her, recording and projecting the video footage up onto the geodesic dome.
When President Lat put Albert’s medal on, his eyes drilled into her. He flashed back to the moment he woke up from his hygg to see Unit D crumpled on the floor and the safe door swinging open and his first medal gone. President Lat refused to look up, moving on to the next player and the next.
After the victory lap, robotic reporters flooded the field.
“How does the medal feel?” a Jhaateezian reporter asked Albert as Lat stood nearby, getting her photo taken with the president of Jhaateez.
Albert smiled. “Amazing! I plan to make sure this one never gets lost or stolen!” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lat’s entire body stiffen, and then she began to walk away.
Albert couldn’t stop himself. “Excuse me, President Lat!”
She turned.
“You’ll be shocked to hear this, but someone broke into my ITV and stole my first game medal—and also my Z-da.” Albert tried to keep his face neutral.
“Really? How disturbing,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I’ll be sure to look into it.”
“Thank you!” Albert smiled.
Ennjy pulled him away and led the whole team into their locker room.
There the team celebrated again, slurping down smoothies and trading fist bumps.
They agreed that they wanted to talk through the high points of the game but first wanted to hear Albert’s story.
He told them about Lat and Mehk, the haagoolts, and the Tevs. He told them everything.
“We are back to where we were before,” Sormie said sadly. “After all Giac’s hard work and all the risks, we have no evidence.”
At the word evidence, a new thought entered Albert’s mind. “Wait!” he said, and everyone looked at him. “There might be new evidence. Mehk planted a surveillancebot shaped like a beetle in the ITV. He said he watched footage of Lat entering the ITV. The whole thing must have been recorded! It would prove that Lat stole that drive with the evidence and that she sent me to the gravespace and then lied about my death.”
“But you escaped in a pod,” Sormie said. “And the ITV crashed on GJ7. That means the surveillancebot was destroyed with it.”
“Mehk had the bot follow me in the escape pod,” Albert said. “It was on my shoulder and I didn’t even know it. He took it from me.”
“Mehk has footage in that spybot!” Giac’s eyes lit up. “All we have to do is find him!”
“If we can show the interplanetary council that Lat tried to kill you, Albert, then maybe Lat will confess what the Tevs and Z-Tevs have been doing,” Feeb said. “Maybe Kayko can be released and the truth about what’s going on will be believed.”
“And we’ll build even more support if we can win our next game against the Gaböqs—” Toben said.
“We will win,” Albert said.
Sormie winced. “Albert, you are not going to like Gaböq. It’s terrifying.”
But Doz refused to let fear have the last word. He jumped up on a bench and held out his arms, his bem rippling behind him. “Dudes, we just won! So let’s enjoy it!”
Everyone cheered.
19.14
In the woods that bordered the park, the botmaker sat with his back against a tree. Cradled in his arms was his robot. He was thinking through everything he had done wrong. And then he stopped and hit himself hard on the side of his head.
You have two options, he said to himself. Focus on what your next step will be. You could take the robot back to the ITV and find a place in the Fŭigor Solar System to hide. Or…
He looked around. A squirrel scampered down the trunk of a tree and began to search for acorns. A live squirrel! For a moment Mehk was completely distracted. He had studied Earth life-forms, and here he was on Earth seeing the real thing.
What about staying right here? he thought. He would have to hide his bem and find a way to make a smartskin mask of an Earthling. Maybe he could break into a robotics-engineering facility and fix his masterpiece and start creating again.
No one in Fŭigor Solar System would expect him to be on Earth. And as for Earthlings? Mehk had a feeling they’d be very easy to fool.
19.15
The time-folding calculations brought Albert back to Earth close to dinnertime on the same Friday he had left. He reappeared in his backyard, which was already dark. He could sense that the January air was cold, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable. There were no lights on in his house—and for a moment he was confused. Then he remembered that Erin and his mom were at her Winter Invitational competition and his nana was in Baltimore. He was supposed to be at a sleepover.
He stood for a moment in the dark and drank in the silence. No fans cheering. No johkadin projected against the night sky. No moon or stars, in fact. Just the shadowy presence of his house and the trees and the fence. And then—thwap—the sound of the dog door came. It was followed by the jingling of Tackle’s tags and then the sound of the dog jumping up, paws against the fence.
Albert?
Albert ran to the Pattersons’ house, and by the time he had opened their front gate, Tackle was on top of him.
Hey, it’s so good to see you, Albert said. Did you rip up any teddy bear packages while I was gone?
Tackle laughed. No, but I ripped up a robot!
They told each other everything, cuddling up together on the Pattersons’ front steps. Trey and his mom were still gone, and Tackle had been waiting for Albert to return.
After every detail of their stories had been shared, Albert explained his next goals. He had to help the Zeenods find Mehk and get the evidence to free Kayko. And he had to train for Gaböq, which had the most dangerous terrain yet. Albert paused and looked at the glow of the streetlamp and said the next sentence like a birthday wish. I hope I can stay strong.
Tackle nuzzled in and pushed his head into Albert’s hand, hinting for a behind-the-ear scratch.
Albert pulled Tackle close for a hug and then gave him a full-head rub. Then, while the dog panted with contentment, Albert closed his eyes. He saw himself sitting on the steps, in Silver Spring, on Earth, and he pictured his teammates in the Fŭigor Solar System heading home to Zeeno. He hoped his team and all Zeenods everywhere were able to celebrate. He hoped Kayko was learning about the win and was feeling the ahn and would know that they were still fighting for her. He hoped Lee was proud of him and somehow watching over him. He hoped his sister’s tournament was going well and that she and his mom and his nana were experiencing joy—even if it was something small. He hoped the real Trey was feeling happy to be back even if he couldn’t remember where he had been. He hoped Lat was feeling remorse and would come to the realization that she could help rather than harm. He hoped Mehk was realizing that the evidence he had was crucial and that Albert and the Zeenods were not his enemies. He hoped Freddy wasn’t too freaked out. And then he thought about Jessica. He hoped she was looking out her window and eating some chocolate…thinking of him.
He took a deep breath and exhaled. And then he opened his eyes and gasped. Tackle, look!
From the depths of the black sky, the first snowflakes of the year were falling. He knew they were just tiny crystals of frozen water, glistening in the glow of the streetlamp, but that didn’t make them any less miraculous.
