16

All Eyes on Strike

IT HAD BEEN a hard-fought semifinals victory, the Miners barely edging out the Tranquility Beatdown in the last seconds of the punishing playoff game. Right afterward, the Miners entered their locker room, everyone clicking out of their Ultrabot suits and collapsing to benches in dead exhaustion. A win was a win, the Miners now advancing to their fifth Ultrabowl in a row. But this one had been a heart-stopping squeaker.

Strike slumped forward, wiping sweat off his brow. The Miners had caught a lucky break, the Beatdown forced to insert a rookie at rocketback 2 after Hammer Fist had become too sick to suit up. Even with that big advantage, though, there had been so many problems with the Miners’ lineup.

There’s no way we’re going to win the Ultrabowl like this, he thought.

“Look,” Rock said. He pointed to a screen mounted to the wall, the loudmouthed commentators chattering away, Beastfire holding court, the former Ultrabowl MVP mesmerizing everyone with his folksy banter.

Lunar World News was only weeks old, formed when Raiden Zuna bought the Lunar Times and combined it with LunarSports Reports, but it had already become the most-watched program on TV. The word “Exclusive” was now flashing in big red letters on the screen, LWN cutting to footage of reporters chasing Wraith as she limped away after the game. They kept lobbing questions at her with no response, until one asked, “Who’s your pick in the Ultrabowl?”

Wraith turned, looking right into the camera. “The Miners will win. They have to.” Dark Siders swarmed in to escort Wraith away. A contingent of Blackguards kept close to them.

“Someone turn off that frakkin’ crap,” Pickaxe said, lying down on a bench. “It’s giving me a headache.” He poked his brother, who was sprawled out next to him.

“You do it,” Nugget said. “I’m so tired, not even your stench can budge me.”

“Fine,” Pickaxe said. He reached toward the screen and grimaced, letting his arm fall to his side. “Frak. Beastfire is a big-mouthed goon, but maybe he’s right.”

Strike’s stomach threatened to toss up the bitter hardtack bar he had choked down at halftime. His struggling Miners badly needed a pep talk to help build some confidence for the coming Ultrabowl. He got to his feet and turned off the TV. “Today was close,” he said. “But we got through. The Neutrons next week . . . well, don’t think about the past four years. All those losses don’t mean a thing now.”

TNT cleared his throat, a weak grin coming to his face. “I wasn’t thinking about that until you reminded us,” he said.

Everyone broke into nervous laughter, the tension cracking ever so slightly. Rock took out his notebook. “That goes under ‘Jokes That Aren’t Really Funny but Serve a Useful Purpose,’” he muttered to himself. The laughter increased, and Rock looked up in surprise. “What happened? What did I miss?”

“Nothing, buddy,” TNT said. “You just did something great. We’re going to go out and roll the Neutrons.” His face fell. “I mean, you guys are. I quit.”

Everyone went silent.

“Shut the frak up,” Pickaxe said. “You can’t quit.”

“You’re still an awesome rocketback,” Nugget said.

“Fireball Five forever,” Pickaxe said. He hesitated, then gave Nitro a friendly poke in the shoulder. “I gotta admit, Nitro is better than you right now, especially because of your injury. She is awesome. Carried us right into the playoffs. But you deserve the rocketback 1 spot. If you hadn’t taken a knife for Strike back in Kamar Colony, you’d be a sure thing for MVP.”

TNT took a deep breath, staring down. “About that.” He ground his feet into the floor, chewing on his lip. “I wasn’t trying to jump in. I just got caught in the mix.” He peered up at Strike. “I wanted to tell you the truth. It just got out of hand before I could. Not that I wouldn’t trade my life for yours. But Wraith was the one who saved you. Not me.”

TNT let the admission sink in amid the stunned silence, and then smacked a locker door. “Even if I had been some kind of a hero, this is the only choice. Nitro and I, we don’t mesh as rocketbacks. I should be the one to step down.”

Nitro shook her head. “You have way more playoff experience. It should be you out there at rocketback 1.” She thunked a fingertip into her chest. “Torch and me, maybe we are cursed. I dropped that pass at the start of the second half. Would have been a sure touchdown. It’s only going to get worse next week, when the pressure’s way higher.”

“There is no such thing as a curse,” Rock said.

“Enough,” TNT said. He stood up and offered a handshake to Nitro. “You earned your spot, fair and square. Frak, you can even throw better than me out of the rocket booster option. Better than Strike, even. Your arm is a cannon.”

“There is an easy and logical solution to this dilemma,” Rock said. “I’m not nearly as good a rocketback as either of you. I will continue to sit on the sideline so that both of you can play.”

“No,” TNT said. “We need your stabilizing influence on the field. You anchor everything. Without you, things are gonna continue to spiral out of control. Right, Coach?”

All faces turned to Strike, the room going quiet again. He froze at the sudden attention, realizing that he had been sitting back, hoping someone would make the decision for him. It felt like it wasn’t just the eyes of his teammates locked onto him—it was the eyes of the moon.

TNT had worked so hard for redemption. At 100 percent, he was the best rocketback in the league, bar none. But there was no doubt that he was still suffering from his injury.

Then there was Nitro, who had exploded as a potential MVP candidate, spending so many hours practicing her fumble drills, carrying an Ultraball whenever she was suited up in order to cure her of her one glaring flaw. Was all the talk of the Curse, Part II, still haunting her, though?

And then Strike knew what he had to do. It was going to be the toughest week of his life. He took a deep breath, anticipating the pain and exhaustion that the coming days would bring for every single Miner. “Let’s head back to Taiko Arena,” he said. “We have a ton of work to do.”

“Who’s it going to be?” TNT asked.

Focusing on the door, Strike motioned everyone ahead. He bit his lip at the thought of what he was going to have to say to his teammates, struggling to figure out some way to break the news to everyone as gently as possible.

The Fireball Five had played their last Ultrabowl together.