Sean
I’m way more nervous than I should be when I ask Dad if I can borrow the car to drive to the school to shoot hoops. It’s not like I haven’t done it a dozen times before, though Pete usually picks me up.
“All right.” He doesn’t look up from whatever he’s reading on his tablet. “Neither your mother or I should need it for the next few hours.”
“Thanks.” I take the keys from the hook by the kitchen door, wondering why I didn’t mention Kira. Not that it should matter.
She’s waiting just outside the Diamond View Terrace complex when I pull up a minute or two before three. I figure that’s a good omen, since I more than half expected to wait—or that she’d have changed her mind about coming.
“Ready?” I ask out the passenger window.
“Ready.” She gets in. Her shorts and t-shirt somehow make her look even better than the clothes she wears to school. Maybe she’s more comfortable in athletic wear?
Once she’s buckled in, I pull away from the curb and head toward the school. “So, how long since you played basketball? Or, um, chas pell?”
She chuckles—a low, delicious sound that goes right through me. “Probably not since I was ten or so. It’ll be interesting to see how similar the rules are. I haven’t read up on basketball yet.”
“Fairly similar. According to my dad, it was an Echtran who introduced the game to Earth, a little over a hundred years ago. So kids would have something they could play indoors during the winter. Those kids taught it to their Duchas friends and it gradually caught on.”
“And even adults play it here?”
“Yup. You should watch a few NBA or WNBA games—you can find them online. Those guys make serious money playing it professionally. Of course a few of the best ones are Echtrans.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kira shake her head disbelievingly, though she has to know I’m telling the truth since it’s easy to check out. I’ve never met anyone my age who’s so cynical. At least she admitted last night she might have been wrong to assume all Royals are power-hungry jerks.
By the time we reach the school, I’ve explained most of the rule differences between basketball and the chas pell she played as a kid. “College and professional ball have a few other changes, but those are the basics. You’ll pick it up in no time.”
“I’m sure I will.” The look she gives me is amused—and slightly patronizing. I’m seized by a desire to prove to her it’s no child’s game I’m so good at—then remind myself I didn’t bring her here so I can show off.
I park behind the gym and we get out, me with my gym bag and Kira with just a water bottle. “This way.” I lead her to the locker-room door and punch the four-digit code into the mechanical lock under the knob.
She wrinkles her nose as we make our way through the boys’ locker room to the gym. I don’t blame her.
“Sorry about the smell. All the boys’ gym classes use this locker room to change and they don’t clean it as often as they should.” Not that I’d really noticed before.
“I guess it’s no wonder, since the Duchas have to rely on water for showers. I never feel quite clean after one of those, no matter how much soap I use. Give me a good old ionic sanitizer any day.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I felt the same way when we first got to Bailerealta, but I got used to it before we moved to Jewel. It helps that we don’t get sick as easily as they do.”
As I expect, the gym is deserted. “Here.” I grab a ball off the rack and hand it to her. “You’ll want to get the feel of the ball before we do anything else. Go ahead and spend a little time dribbling and shooting.”
We spend the next ten minutes sharing a hoop but pretending to ignore each other. I practice jump shots and layups, sneaking peeks at Kira as she does the same. For not having played in so long she’s surprisingly good, though nowhere near as good as I am. I try not to feel too pleased by that.
“Ready for a little one-on-one?” I ask when she starts looking slightly bored.
“Sure, bring it on.” She grins confidently, though she has to know I’m better if she was sneaking peeks like I was. Maybe she wasn’t.
I put my ball back on the rack and rejoin her under the hoop. “All right. Two points for a basket, three if you shoot from outside that circle.” I point at the line. “After each basket, the other person takes the ball and starts from mid-court. Let’s play to twenty. You can have first possession since you’re a guest.”
“And a girl?” She smirks, one eyebrow raised.
Backing up to the mid-court line, she starts dribbling, pressing aggressively toward the goal. I’m a lot taller, which gives me a defensive advantage, though not as much as I expect. She’s amazingly quick and, man, can she jump! Still, when she finally shoots after a few fakes, I pluck the ball out of the air before it reaches the basket and spin around for a layup before she can get in position to block me.
I toss her the ball again. “It’s already coming back, isn’t it? Not bad for a first try.”
She doesn’t reply, just backs up to mid-court, gives a quick nod and drives forward again, changing direction every time I move to block her progress. This time she comes really close to scoring, though I manage to deflect the ball just before it reaches the basket. She snags it before it bounces and starts dribbling again.
After a few feints, I dart in and steal the ball, catching her off-guard. A little hiss escapes her, but she immediately switches to defense, getting between me and the basket. Now she’s getting warmed up, I can tell she’s better than anyone on the Jewel boys’ team—except me.
It’s not easy to get past her. She’s as aggressive on defense as she was on offense. As she moves to block me yet again, her hand grazes my forearm, the first time we’ve touched skin-to-skin. The sensation nearly makes me drop the ball—a tingle as strong as the one I get off M…or used to. It’s become a lot fainter since she and Rigel re-bonded.
Kira’s eyes widen slightly, the only hint she felt that little zap, too. She doesn’t let it faze her, though, just takes advantage of my momentary distraction to steal the ball. Gotta get my head back in the game—which means not touching her again if I can help it. Keeping her from scoring with that handicap is tricky, but I manage it—just barely. I get the rebound and score again, but it’s harder this time, even though it’s obvious now she’s also trying to avoid contact. Yup, she definitely felt something.
On her next possession, Kira nails a three-pointer before I can get set. The glint in her eyes shows she’s enjoying herself nearly as much as I am. I take the ball to mid-court and respond with a three-pointer of my own. We mostly trade three-pointers from then on, making it way easier to avoid touching.
By the end, I’m using moves I’d never dare in front of a crowd of Duchas spectators, or even my teammates. So is she.
“My game, 22 - 18,” I exclaim as I sink the winning goal, panting harder than I typically do after playing full-court for twice as long. “You really gave me a run for my money.”
She frowns. “A run for—?”
“Sorry, just an expression. I mean you made me work for it. Well done. Let’s take a break before we go again.”
Together, we go sit at the foot of the bleachers.
“You know, you should go out for the girls’ basketball team in a few weeks,” I say, mopping my forehead with the bottom of my shirt before remembering I brought towels. “It wouldn’t be the same as caidpel, of course, but I think you’d have fun. And you’d definitely dominate.” I get two towels out my bag and hand her one.
“Like you do? And like Rigel Stuart does at football? Hardly seems fair, does it? Do you play like you were just now against the Duchas?”
“Nah, it’d be way too obvious—like what Rigel did Friday night. Still haven’t had a chance to talk to him about that. You made me pull out all the stops, though, which was great.”
My admiration apparently makes her uncomfortable because she looks away. “Guess I ought to be proud of that.” Then, after a slight hesitation, “It sounded last night like you believe the Sovereign and Rigel have a real graell bond. How come? I’ve always been told it doesn’t exist.”
Not exactly something I want to talk about, especially after that weird touch thing earlier, but honesty forces me to admit, “I can’t think what else it could be after seeing some of the stuff they can do. It’s…kind of amazing.”
She looks skeptical. “How can you still be such a big admirer of hers, after what she put you through? Or are all Royals required to talk her up like that?”
“Not required, no, but she is the Sovereign. And…I think she’ll be a good one.”
“Seriously?” She wrinkles her nose in distaste.
“Look, I don’t get it,” I blurt out. “You were in the Resistance. The whole point was to get Faxon out and the monarchy back in, right? You succeeded. So why are you so down on M now? Because she embarrassed your parents Thursday night?”
A quick shake of her head makes her ponytail bounce. “Not just that, no. Besides, the Resistance formed years before anybody even suspected she was still alive, because of all the stuff Faxon was doing. It wasn’t so much about restoring the monarchy as giving power back to the people—where it belongs. Sure, when the news about Emileia broke, the Resistance used her as a rallying point. I’ll totally give her credit for being a useful symbol when we needed one. But the idea of a sixteen-year-old girl actually trying to lead us, just because of who her grandfather was…” She trails off, probably because of the way I’m frowning.
“So…what? You think we’d be better off without a Sovereign at all?”
“Are you sure we wouldn’t?” she retorts. “You said last night you decided to ignore the old Consort tradition. Maybe it’s time to reconsider a few others—like the one that decrees some teenaged girl should automatically be Sovereign, no matter how inexperienced she is, just because she happened to pass a blood test.”
The last thing I want to do is argue with Kira right when she was starting to soften toward me, but I can’t let that go.
“If you’ve read your Nuathan history, you know the Sovereigns have always done well by our people. Why should that change just because this one is younger than most? Is that all you have against her—her age?”
“Not the only thing, no, but I think it’s pretty important. As for the Sovereigns being so good for Nuath, that’s always depended on who you happen to be, hasn’t it? We’ve been entrenched in our archaic fine-based class system for so long, most people can’t see past it. Maybe it’s time to try something new, give everyone an equal voice in how things are done.”
I suck in a breath. “That…sounds an awful lot like the propaganda the Anti-Royalists were putting out when M was trying to get Acclaimed.”
“The Populists, you mean? I happen to think they have some good ideas. I hoped you’d be a little more open to other points of view than the average Royal, Sean, considering you grew up in Glenamuir, living like an Ag.”
Her obvious disappointment bothers me a lot more than it should, considering I’m the one in the right here.
“So you’re back to lumping all Royals together? That’s not what you said last night.”
Again, she averts her eyes. “Look, I do believe you—and your parents—want what’s best for our people. But maybe you’re too blinded by tradition to see what that is. Personally, I don’t see how going back to the past can be the best way for our people to move forward.”
“All right. I guess there can be more than one valid opinion on that. But almost everything M has wanted to do, or wanted the Council to do, has been for the good of our people—even if the Council doesn’t always agree with her.”
Her gaze snaps back to mine. “You mean…she and the Echtran Council don’t always see eye to eye?”
I can’t suppress a snort. “That’s putting it mildly, from what I’ve overheard Mum telling Dad. Even though she’s one herself, I’m not sure M trusts Royals any more than you do.”
“So the Council has done things she didn’t want them to do?” She’s definitely giving me her full attention now. “Or is it more the other way around?”
“Both,” I unwillingly admit. “I, uh, think the Council got used to calling the shots when they were the only leadership we Martians had on Earth. Early on, she still let them do that, but not anymore. Not since—”
I break off, realizing I almost said too much. That conspiracy to erase Rigel’s memory isn’t exactly common knowledge. And shouldn’t be, if the Council wants all these new Echtrans to accept their leadership.
“So!” Forcing a heartiness I don’t feel, I jump to my feet. “Ready to play some more basketball?”