17
The next game of the three-night match goes pretty much the same as the first. I find myself able to handle it much better, as well. For the most part, I stay out of everyone's way and watch the game unfold. Loretta was right; seeing it up close is definitely different from watching it on a screen. It's far more anxiety-inducing, for one thing, and that's down in the (very relative) quiet of the Pit. I can't imagine how much worse it might be up in the stands.
All of that aside, it really is a sight to behold. Watching Alita and her team tear around the track at such incredible speeds, maneuvering and battling with the opposing team, is actually kinda fun. Then I'm reminded of why I harbor such a dislike of the sport, when someone's body comes apart violently, spilling parts and cyberblood all over the track surface. The cameras around the track show a couple of those moments in vibrant close-ups, replaying them in slow-motion for the crowd to enjoy, particularly the times when Alita happens to catch up to an opponent.
The flash of fear and desperation on a paladin's face just before she tears them apart, always sticks with me. I can't avoid looking away each time, as visions of an enraged cyborg nearly beating me to death flash through my mind. I wonder if my own expression mirrored theirs as they face what seems like an unstoppable force of destruction, from which there is no escape.
Apart from that, there is a certain enjoyment to be had in watching the players battle it out as they maneuver for control of the motorball. Even so, I still don't really care for it. I suppose I'm just too old-fashioned for this sort of thing.
The morning of the third, and final game of the three night match finds Alita baby-sitting me while Ido is out. The clinic will be opening late today as he goes to check on Gerhad, bringing her some extra food and medicine to make sure she's doing alright.
Since he'll be gone a while, Alita finds an old board game to help pass the time. While visibly worn, it's in reasonably good condition with almost all of the game pieces intact, and only a few well-made stand-ins for what's been lost. I can't help but think that this was Ido's work. Perhaps this was a game he and his daughter enjoyed, and so he had worked to put together replacements for what was lost.
The closest comparison I can think of to a familiar game, would be Monopoly with combat, with each player able to have their pieces battle it out for each territory they land on. Each battle is resolved with what is almost like a mini-game of chess. The game board strikes a remarkable resemblance to Iron City. There's a sneaking suspicion that the layout is a much earlier version of the city from long ago.
To my surprise, I find myself winning rather handily.
Raising my eyebrows at her from across the board, I ask her with a bit of facetious suspicion, "You're not going easy on me, are you?"
One corner of her mouth raises in a faint smirk, "Do you want me to?"
"Can't say I do, no."
Her smirk spreads into an approving grin, "Good. I wouldn't, even if you did. I don't really like losing." After giving her my best dubious-but-alarmed stare, she adds in a chiding manner, "I'm not going to flip the board or throw my tea at you, it is just a game. So, no need to suddenly start going easy on me, got it?"
"As you wish," I say with a shrugging tilt of my head. I roll the dice, land next to her piece and we battle it out. I win. Deciding not to gloat, I just raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to do so well against you."
"Well, board games are one thing," she says evenly, with a hint of humor. "It would be a different story if this were hand-to-hand combat."
Adopting a deadpan tone, I come back with, "I dunno about that. I bet if I run over your toes you'll be singing a different tune."
Behind her answering smirk there's a challenging gleam in her eyes. Instead of the expected comeback, she asks, "Have you considered what you'll do when you leave here?" The hint of 'when Ido gets you walking again' is heavy in her tone.
Hiding my annoyance at the (overly) optimistic implication, I keep my reply humorous, "I figure if the time comes when Ido doesn't need me around the clinic, I could just stick a couple push-brooms on the front of this thing and hire myself out as a street-cleaner."
"No, seriously," she says with mild exasperation. No doubt, unsatisfied with my refusing to follow along on her hypothetical future in which I have working legs. "Any plans as to what you'll do with yourself?"
A slight frown and a shrug of my shoulders, "None, what so ever." I watch her take her turn. "Right now, I'm just trying to get through each day." My hand moves to my chest, my finger briefly tracing the outline of Alondra's soaring bird necklace hidden under my shirt.
The flicker of her eyes focusing towards my hand shows she caught the brief movement. "Well, your work on that HEAT weapon was pretty good, and you did say you were a mechanic before. Maybe you could train to work on cybernetics?"
Heaving a sigh, I begin taking my turn around the board. "At my age, the years it would take to learn the skills needed to be of any real use, would see me too old to be of any use." To emphasize the point, I firmly set my game piece down with a loud 'clack'.
"You're younger than Ido. He's still working, and doing quite a lot," she points out, gesturing at the clinic around us.
Matter-of-factly, I counter, "Yeah well, Ido's in a hell of a lot better shape than I am. Probably due to living in a higher quality environment like Zalem. I am, at most, fifteen years younger than Ido. I've got arthritis developing in what joints I have left, bones that are slowly deteriorating." A dismissive wave. "Considering all the heavy metals, industrial toxins and other shit floating around this city, I probably had a few years shaved off my life span the moment I set foot inside those walls." A fatalistic shrug, "I dunno. Maybe there is something more for me here, but I ain't seeing it right now."
"There must be something," she says earnestly. She looks thoughtfully down at the board, then back up at me, "Just… don't stop trying to find it, alright?"
"I'm not planning on giving up, if that's what's concerning you," I reply tersely. After a brief silence, I look over the top of my glasses at her, asking more softly, "You worried I'll do what Alondra did?"
She gives me a measured look, "Can you tell me, honestly, that you didn't at least think about it?"
"Yeah, I thought about it," I reply flatly. "Don't mean I ever intend to do it." I don't elaborate on the fact that I hadn't intended to put a loaded gun to my own head some years ago, either. Making an effort to relax my guard a bit, I add, "For now at least, I got a medication that seems to be working at keeping me stable, and support from people who seem to be willing to help me through this." I'm unable to directly meet her gaze as I confess, "That support can mean a lot more than the medication, too. So..." I shrug, "things could be a lot worse."
"Ido and Gerhad don't give up on their patients," she states firmly. One side of her lips curl up in a faint smile, "I'm not known for giving up, either." The faint smile fades as she says more seriously, "I know you don't believe it, but I do believe that this isn't going to last forever," she gestures at the wheelchair I'm in, "it's just going to take some time."
Hopelessness tries to seize me, but I let out a sigh and say, "Well, I ain't holding my breath on ever walking again, but I'm willing to trust that I'm not gettin' thrown out like yesterday's garbage."
Her expression more pleased, she says lightly, "Really? Well, progress already."
A quiet chuckle escapes me, and we return our attention to the game.
When Ido returns, he announces that Gerhad is doing much better and is ready to come back tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. I'm more relieved to hear it than I thought I might be. It hadn't occurred to me until hearing about her recovery from Ido that I realize I was a little afraid that somehow things would get worse.
Before long, evening comes, and with it the time of Alita's game. I make certain to grab the hat Ido gave me, then we pack up into Koyomi's van and drive out to the arena, with Alita having already gone on ahead. The trip out isn't too bad this time around, partly because I'm just too worn out to feel any anxiety over being out in public this time. Once we get there however, then my anxiety levels begin to jump.
For this trip, Koyomi had brought along some last minute acquisitions for the team, packed into a couple small boxes that she bought off a salvage dealer before picking us up. Ido reimburses her with a little extra on top to thank her for the added help. When Koyomi drops Ido and I off at the service entrance, I offer to help carry one of the two boxes while Ido takes the other. He gladly loads me up with the second box and we head in, making our way to the team's locker room.
We enter to see the team is going over pre-game preparations before heading out onto the track, with Alita already in her Motorball body. One of the mechanic's, Jen, comes over to take a look at the parts Ido and I deliver. After I'm relieved of my cargo, Alita waves me over to the group of paladins gathered together. With some trepidation, I obey.
When I roll over next to her, I can see that they're gathered around a low fold-out table upon which is a very large cousin of Ido's rocket hammer. This rocket hammer is currently in a semi-assembled state, the head containing the business end is sitting off to the side among a number of what look like various optional attachments. Each of these attachments is a variation of spike, chisel and axe-like weapon options. Every attachment possesses a split several centimeters wide running from the base out to the end, as if to make way for the HEAT round's particle stream, so they're probably meant to be additional damage-dealing options to use alongside the shaped-charge round. Whatever the case, they certainly look like they could get the job done all on their own.
Alita puts a hand lightly on my shoulder when I come to a stop next to her, as if presenting me to her team. I glance up at her questioningly, but it's her teammate, Roman who speaks.
"So, you're the man who helped Ido put this thing together?" he asks somewhat jovially, the powerfully-built hands of his Motorball body idly toying with what I can now see is a six-round magazine for the new hammer. A magazine of rocket propellant or HEAT rounds, I can't tell.
Stunned by the unexpected question, I can only stare up at him owlishly as several answers and explanations try to come out at once. "Uuh..." I respond brilliantly. 'Nope,' my mind fills in helpfully, 'I just provided Ido with a cartoonishly amateur simulation of an ancient weapon. He did all the useful stuff.' Finally, my tongue finds it's footing, and I answer vaguely, "It was just something I read about a long time ago."
Saza says with understated cheerfulness, "Well, where ever you got it from, if you can come up with other similar designs, you might have a real future in weapon's engineering," Her currently helmetless face reveals youthful features that are at once sharp and delicate, topped by a mohawk of raven hair with a tail that looks to go down past her shoulders. "I got the chance to use it myself earlier," she goes on somewhat exuberantly. "That thing packs a hell of a punch. It blasted through almost a meter of concrete at the testing range, and tore through a few layers of composite armor."
Casting a glance at Ido, standing nearby, I feel my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 'He musta tweaked the hell out of the thing to get that kind of penetrating power.' Granted, I have no idea what sort of composite armor they used it on, nor the thickness but it sounds impressive none the less. And they sure seem happy with it.
Ido steps forward and begins packing the parts of the hammer away, with Roman handing over the magazine he was playing with. "I'll have it ready and waiting for you, after the first Contest," Ido tells him as he puts the parts into the wheeled storage crate.
Confusion makes me momentarily forget my anxiety, and I look up (and up) at Roman, "You aren't gonna use it now?"
Roman shakes his statuesque head, "Nope. I'm gonna start off with my regular axe, just like any other game." He gestures with a thumb behind him to the over-sized fire-axe-looking weapon leaning against his locker. "Then, when we hit the second Contest, bust this rocket-hammer out as a surprise. It's sure to wow the fans, as well." His grin makes him look like a big kid anticipating a new toy.
Alita glances up at the clock over the tunnel out to the track. "Time to head out," she announces to them loudly. She puts on her helmet and exchanges a quick embrace with Ido as her team heads for the tunnel, then rolls after them.
"Good luck out there," I call after her. She turns back towards me and gives me a quick smile. A little more solemnly I add, "Give 'em hell, Tiger."
She nods and her smile brightens for a moment before disappearing completely as she puts on her 'game face', a stern and steely-eyed expression. Then she glides over to her team and they begin heading out towards the track.
While I'm sitting there watching her go, Jen comes over and sets one of the boxes of parts in my lap. "Here," she says breezily, "make yourself useful." Then she picks up the other box and heads for the tunnel.
Ido looks up from packing away the last of Roman's new weapon and calls out to her in annoyance, "Jen!"
Though it's obvious she heard him, she continues to quickly walk away. He looks down at me with an exasperated expression and shrugs his arms.
I look up at him and say with false cheer, "I think she likes me." Pushing the joystick forward, I drive my wheelchair towards the tunnel. The irritation at Jen's attitude helps to burn away some of my anxiety, although in a way it also serves to elevate it.
Ido and I head through the tunnel and make our way to the maintenance bays in the Pit area, Ido pulling the wheeled case holding the new weapon. As we travel, Ido slows down till he's next to me.
Dividing his attention between navigating the tunnel and speaking to me, he says, "It didn't bother you, did it, her putting you in the spotlight like that? I know you weren't really happy about your idea being used like this."
Waving his concern away with a gesture of my residual arm, I reply, "Oh, no, it's fine. I meant what I said, about it being yours to use as you see fit. Just wasn't expecting to be the center of attention like that."
"Well, she wanted you to know how much you're gift meant by letting you hear some positive feedback from the others."
What little feelings of irritation I had at being put on the spot like that, vanish. In their place, I find myself feeling deeply touched at her gesture. "Really? Well, I'm... not sure what to say."
"You don't need to say anything," he replies pleasantly.
We get out into the Pit area and I help get the parts delivered to where they're needed.
Further off in the distance, the players all form up at the starting line and the column of lights off to the side of the track counts down from red to yellow to green. A signal horn blares and the motorball is launched onto the track, the numerous motor-powered knobs around it making it skitter unpredictably as it shoots down the track. The sound of the signal horn is very nearly lost in the crashing wave of cheers from the stands and the voice of the announcer. The paladins explode off the starting line, each team violently striking at opposing players as soon as they leave the starting area.
Ido and I watch as the fourteen-cyborg melee tears down the track, quickly converging on the skittering motorball in a violent confusion of motion. One of the opposing team, a rather hulking brute, bears down on the objective but before he can grab it a smaller purple blur zips inbetween him and the 'ball. The blur of motion resolves itself into Alita as she blocks his grab while her teammate, Takata zips in to take possession of the 'ball.
I can't see the face of the paladin she blocked due to the camera angle and his helmet, but his body language seems angry enough, and he's gotta be more than three times her size. I don't recall seeing him in the previous night's game.
He lunges at her with a fist that's comprised of vicious-looking spikes. As his lunge reaches full extension, Alita slips under his arm, launches herself off the track and hooks a foot around his neck, performing some sort of crazy flip that swings her around until she ends up with the knee of her other leg hooked around his neck.
Her opponent stands upright and tries to reach up to dislodge her but by that time she's already continuing to swing around and using her own momentum, as well as possibly even her opponent's, she pulls him off-balance. As he falls backwards, Alita plants a roller-foot on his face and drives the back of his head into the track, launching herself into the air just in time to avoid a weapon swung at her by one of her target's teammates.
As her target smashes into the track, the other guy who just swung at Alita is tripped up by the downed paladin and both opponents are left tumbling down the track, a few parts flying as Alita lands nimbly on both sets of narrow rollers to continue on almost as if nothing happened. The crowd, and the announcer, go wild.
Caught up in the excitement of watching her take down her much larger opponent with such grace and precision, I almost shout out in excitement. However, my anxiety heightens my self-conciousness, stopping me short. I glance around feeling inexplicably embarrassed as I sink back into my wheelchair.
I look up at the viewscreens as Ido returns to making sure everything is ready for when his team has to come in for a pit stop. One of the views being shown is of the two opposing paladins that Alita took down single-handedly, now getting themselves upright. As they get themselves underway to catch up to the rest, I now recognize the one Alita put her foot down on.
"Hey, I think that's Crash-lander," I comment off-handedly.
Ido looks over at me. "Hm? What's that?"
I gesture up at the screen showing the paladin I recognized. "That guy there. I think he's the one that came flying in off the track that other night. The one who went screaming through the air and crash-landed not far from here after Alita took him apart."
Lucas, who's in the next maintenance bay over, peeks over the low wall seperating his bay from the one Ido and I are currently in. "Ah yeah. That's Fenrir. He was out last game, due to the damage our Angel did to him the first night."
Ido nods. "Yes, I've heard a little about him but mostly just his player stats."
"Then what you may not know," Lucas says with a touch of distaste, "is that the guy's a real fucker. Acts like he's the best thing to happen to Motorball but hasn't been able to get out of Second League in years. He also treats his fans like shit. As a result he doesn't have many anymore. Word is, he's become pretty embittered about how his career's turned out. Might have even become an addict, if you believe the rumors."
I glance back out at the track, where this Fenrir can barely be seen in the distance speeding to catch up to the pack. "Well, if he plans on pushing Alita, I don't see his fortunes changing anytime soon."
Lucas shrugs lightly. "Yeah well, he doesn't seem to think so. From what I hear, he's carryin' quite a grudge after what she did to him last time."
I wince inwardly at the likely stupidity of this Fenrir looking to pick a real fight with Alita. "Considering how badly she dismantled him, he'll be carrying his head home in a duffle bag if he's not careful."
"That's why Alita's a rising star and that moron's on the verge of being just another burnout," Malcolm comments as he comes over to stand at the divider between the bay I'm in and the one Lucas is occupying. "He ain't the brightest, but he is a mean bastard, and good enough to be trouble." The lead mechanic glares up at the screens balefully.
After a few seconds of watching the action unfold, Lucas and Ido go back to preparing for the arrival of damaged paladins. I just sit there, watching the two teams trade blows as well as possession of the motorball as they speed around the track.
Malcolm abruptly turns to me. "You wanna support Alita?"
I look up at him, unsure of what he's getting at. "Sure." I notice that Ido has gone over to one of the other bays to check on things.
In the most polite tone he's used with me thus far, Malcolm asks, "Then would you be willing to help out a bit?"
Despite my surprise at his question my answer is immediate. "What do you need?"
"Could use an extra body willing to ferry parts between the bays if needed."
I consider that for a moment. "You sure you won't get in trouble for that?" Seeing as I'm not on the team in any way, it seems like a breach of some sort of rule or regulation.
Malcolm just grunts, then he gestures at a line of alternating yellow and black that crosses the entry of each mainenance bay. "Just stay on the other side of that line, it'll be fine. Second League ain't as strict as the Championship League. You up for it, or not?"
I don't even think twice, "Absolutely."
The thought of being useful, particularly as it applies to something so important to someone I've come to think of as a friend is too good to pass up. On the other hand, it does add a few new worries, such as whether or not this is really 'OK' with the officials and how badly am I likely to screw this up.
I do my best to help the Pit crew by delivering parts as they're needed. Which turns out to not be very often, seeing as the Pit crew keeps on top of that sort of thing really well. This has me wondering why Malcolm even made the offer, since I don't really seem to be needed. I'm tempted to put it down to him trying to be nice, but I have a hard time really believing that. Regardless, he made the offer and I do my best.
Ido is pleased to see me doing so, at one point telling me, "You're looking better."
And he's right. I feel pretty good. Not great or anything, but certainly a lot better than I did. I continue to help out a little bit here and there as I watch the game unfold. It goes a little tougher for Alita's team this time as neither side gets a clear advantage. Seems like the opposing team learned from their last encounter. However, things don't go all that badly for either team, with only a few paladins getting sent into the Pit for relatively minor problems. That is, until the last lap of the first Contest.
Coming up on the last stretch of the final lap, Fenrir and another of his teammates put Alita into a bit of a pincer attack. We watch on the big screen nearby as Alita brings her plasma-charged blade up to strike at Fenrir, he brings up his right arm against the flat of the blade to force it out of the way, wrecking his arm in the process as it contacts the plasma field, and knocks her off-balance with a palm-strike from his other hand. Then his teammate on her other side moves in and swiftly delivers a crushing blow to her right leg. She's forced onto her right knee, sparks and pieces of her leg scatter in her wake as friction rips into it, slowing her forward momentum.
My anxiety spikes as memories of the agony that burned through me as my knees were crushed into the street rush back at me in an instant. My breath catches in my throat.
Alita puts her left hand down to keep herself from faceplanting on the track due to the sudden loss of forward momentum and more sparks are added to the dangerous display. Then she swings with the plasma-charged blade in her right hand, cutting a red-hot path of destruction into Fenrir's teammate who cuts his speed and dodges away in obvious distress. As she does so, Fenrir delivers a vicious kick that crumples Alita's side and sends her flying, tumbling up the curved wall of the track.
"Alita!" Ido cries out as her helmet comes off and her hair flies about her head in a black halo. Her damaged leg seperates at the knee, the lower part spiraling off down the track on it's own.
Not far away, I hear Malcolm mutter, "Shit."
As Alita tumbles to a stop and begins sliding back down the curved track surface, Fenrir also comes to a stop a couple dozen meters away down the track, his partner continuing on with a backward glance. Fenrir looks like he's about to go back and have another go at Alita when the two brothers, Banick and Roberto who'd been trailing behind, come to a stop between him and Alita. Their body language makes it clear, if he wants Alita, he's gonna be going through them first. To say nothing of the penalty Fenrir's team'll incur for him going backwards on the track.
I'm no longer paying any attention to the camera tracking the two teams still fighting over the motorball. All my focus is now on the screen showing a closer view of the scene between Alita and Fenrir. I can make out that Fenrir is shouting something at the two brothers guarding Alita as she struggles to get herself upright on one and a half legs. There's no sound over the thunderous noise of the crowds going wild, but the gist is pretty clear; 'That's what that bitch gets.'
There's a flash of rage at the sneering, hate-filled look on Fenrir's face. In that instant, it's as if my anxiety and fear vanish. I feel my breathing pause as I fall under the effect of an old habit from years back. My eyes narrow as they lock onto Fenrir's image on that Jumbotron-sized screen.
Exhale slowly, steady your aim. I can almost feel my father's old bolt-action thirty-ought-six rifle in my hands, my left index-finger on the trigger. Center the scope's cross-hairs on his eye, just under where his helmet covers. Take up the slack on the trigger, the rifle bucks from the recoil, sending the round downrange to rip into the target's face.
I blink and the moment passes, though a cold anger persists. I look down at what remains of my left arm. I can almost feel my left hand for a second or so afterwards, clenched into a fist. I quickly look back up and become aware of the hustle of activity around me as the Pit crew is rushing to prepare for the arrival of more seriously damaged teammembers. Banick and Roberto reluctantly turn and continue on at Alita's urging since they're still functional enough to complete their lap, and salvage teams are dispatched to recover Alita and the parts of her body left scattered on the track, as well as the parts that Fenrir and his teammate leave behind. As Alita is brought in towards the Pit area, her team crosses the finish line with the motorball, scoring one more point to put them just ahead of Fenrir's team as this first Contest comes to an end.
Jen and Lucas call me over to help get some parts to where they're needed. I do so as quickly as possible trying to do what little I can to make sure they're able to prepare for the team's arrival. It doesn't take all that long and I'm done before any of the team sets foot in the Pit area. No longer needed, I sit off to the side while the first to arrive is Alita, helped into her maintenance bay by Ido as she balances on her remaining wheel-foot.
As she makes her way into into the bay, I can see a few metallic glints along one cheek, tiny tears in her synthetic flesh where the metal underneath shows through. Despite the damage, she looks unconcerned, more annoyed than anything. Though a smoldering rage seems to burn behind her eyes.
Malcolm makes his way over to help Ido prepare the damaged remains of Alita's knee for the attachment of a new lower leg. I watch from the sidelines as they repair the damage done to her, as well as a couple of her other teammates.
As the other players all make their way into the Pit area, the twenty minute intermission begins. With no one else needing my limited assistance, I sit quietly out of the way and watch the Pit crew work. While I'm off to the side observing the rush of activity, the anger I felt over Fenrir's attack on Alita fades a bit as I watch the small swarm of reporters enter the area to get close-ups and interviews with paladins and Pit crew alike. I am left alone this time, much to my relief.
In the back of my head that voice taunts me, 'You imagined that you could be of some use in helping her. Because that's all you're capable of doing, imagining. You're not really good for much else, are you?'
I glance up at the giant screen nearby, this time showing Fenrir's attack on Alita from a different angle. From this direction, the camera shows Alita struggling upright, still holding her sword tightly. The expression on her face, one of intense determination and anger. Even in that state she looked ready to take Fenrir on. I glance over in the direction of Alita's maintenance bay where her damage is being repaired.
'Considering expressing concern for her safety? Or maybe thinking you should be supportive in some way? And what sort of support could an ineffectual weakling such as yourself provide that would be of any value what so ever?' I struggle to fight back against the onslaught, but in the end it's logic seem undeniable. She's survived more in her few months in this city than I have in my whole life, and she's come through stronger than before.
'Are you really so arrogant as to believe your support, such as it is, could possibly matter to her? That your so-called 'friendship' is anything but a farce?' I try to push back against this, remembering the concern she's always shown towards me. 'Or maybe her concern was that your weakness was infecting her?' My memory of the events warp subtly, twisting into something else. A kind of numbness begins to spread and I stop fighting as I find myself in the middle of a vast gulf separating me from the rest of the world.
Lost in this sudden mental fog, my mind takes a wrong turn.
'You're not seriously going to inflict yourself on her in the middle of something so important, are you? She's going to need to focus and having some idiot like you bothering her won't be helping.'
Looking over at Alita and her teammates, I'm put in mind of superhuman titans. Beside her, beside any of them, what am I?
'Easily broken. Largely irrelavent.' There's no rage or anger, no envy or resentment. It's just what I am. It's probably all I deserve to be. At this moment, it seems like such a straightforward conclusion.
"Well then," I quietly say to myself, "guess that pretty much sums it up."
"Sums what up?" asks a voice close by on my right side.
I look over and have to turn the wheelchair a bit in order to see who's there. I'm rather surprised to see Roman towering over me. "Oh," I answer lamely, "nothing. Just... thinking out loud." I take a quick look around, wondering if I'm in his way or something. Unexpectedly, he seems to just be standing there.
Roman grunts in acknowledgement. He gestures toward the nearby jumbotron-esque viewscreen currently replaying the exchange between Alita, Fenrir and Fenrir's teammate. "Can you believe that? He was more concerned with getting back at Alita than winning the game. He was even willing to risk penalizing his own team by back-tracking." His tone carries a definite note of disdain.
For a couple seconds I'm at a loss for a response. I hadn't expected to have someone be randomly interested in talking to me. "Yeah, I was a little surprised at that. Guess he really can hold a grudge." I shrug faintly. "I was also surprised Alita got taken down like she did. She usually makes it look so easy, the way she handles a lot of these guys."
To my surprise, Roman actually gets down on one knee to be closer to eye-level with me. "Well, not sure if you noticed but Fenrir's a bit faster than he was before. Probably caught her off-guard."
I glance back up at the replay on the screen. I can't actually see any difference. "Yeah, I'm just not seein' it. Seems like a good thing Roberto and Banick were close by. She probably coulda handled him even in that state, but kinda hard for me to say." I shrug. "I'm no combat expert."
Roman emits a quiet chuckle. "Not the first time she's taken a bad hit, though it doesn't happen all that often. It's one of the reasons she came to the attention of our sponsor so quickly." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the maintenance bays behind him. "As for Roberto and Banick, I think those two were just waiting for an opportunity to race to her rescue."
I look over at him curiously. "Why's that?"
"Those two have been vying for her attention since our little team was put together. They've both made little advances, trying to catch her eye." He shrugs his large, armored shoulders. "She keeps shootin' 'em down, but they're persistant." He leans in a bit and in a low voice adds, "Me and Saza have a bit of a bet going on how long she'll put up with it." Then he seems to watch me carefully as he waits for my response.
I look over in the direction of Roberto and Banick, both now finished with their repairs. My eyebrows come down over my eyes as I'm hit with a feeling of concern over how that might affect Alita, considering how her loss still seems to hurt. I glance over at Alita, still being worked on by Malcolm and Ido, who have moved on to fixing the damage to her torso.
After watching me, Roman comments in a laid back manner, "Does their interest in her bother you?"
I look back over at him, not sure what to make of his question. "Not really, no." I shrug faintly, "I'm sure that if she's got a problem with it, she'll solve it."
Roman nods thoughtfully, and says with a light chuckle, "True enough, I suppose."
Feeling a sudden suspicion, I ask, "Why do you care about my feelings on the matter?"
He looks over at me with a slightly guarded expression. "I suppose I was just trying to figure you out. With you living in the same house as she and Ido, I was a little curious as to whether or not there might be some sort of complications." He glances over at Alita. "All of my teammates here are good people, but something about her... she's something special." His tone carries no hint of romantic interest, merely a sort of admiration.
I find myself nodding faintly in agreement.
He looks back over at me with a slightly puzzled expression and says, "No offense, but you show up here in obvious need of cybernetics you don't have, while staying at the home of the best cyber-doc in the city, who's known for his generosity? Kinda got some people wondering."
I nod slowly. "Yeah, that's... complicated." I feel my heart flutter as a twinge of anxiety hits me, but surprisingly that's the worst I get. Here I am talking to a full cyborg and feeling pretty much just fine.
Roman shrugs dismissively. "Well, whatever the case, you seem like a good guy. Probably why she seems to think so highly of you."
I look up at him, feeling my eyebrows raise in surprise. "Does she?" I ask, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice.
"Yes," he says nodding. "After you showed up that first night, some of us asked about you. She told us how you lost your limbs. Getting yourself involved in a dangerous situation like that?" He looks over at Alita thoughtfully. "She thought that was something else, stepping up like you did when no one else would." He smiles wryly and chuckles. "After hearing that, Roberto and Banick started talking about going out and trying to find little acts of heroism they could do. No doubt hoping to impress her in some way."
"Seriously?" I ask with a disbelieving chuckle. I certainly find the idea kind of funny, but there's also a sickening feeling. I can't help but feel nausea and remembered agony as his comment brings up memories of that attack. "Doesn't really strike me as the brightest of ideas." The humor quickly drains out of me. For no discernable reason I add, "I have to wonder, would she think so highly of me if she knew how terrified I was when I did it?"
Roman looks thoughtful for a moment before answering, "She's pretty fearless herself, but that doesn't mean she's going to think less of you just because you felt fear in the face of life-threatening danger."
Roman's quiet for a moment, then he says in a low voice, "Looks like she's about fixed up. Maybe you should go over and show her some support. Let her know you're rootin' for her, you know?"
I look over towards Alita's maintenance bay, feeling unfocused and lightly dazed. "Yeah, I guess I should, huh?"
I can see the steely determination on her face as she's talking with Malcolm. No hint of fear. When she looks in my direction, she flashes a quick smile and gives a wave. Seeing that Roman's right next to me, she was probably smiling and waving at him, but I figure it couldn't hurt to return the gesture regardless. Then she returns to whatever it was she was discussing with the lead mechanic while he's finishing up on her damaged side.
I glance back up at the big viewscreen, showing one last replay of Alita getting kicked in the side and sent tumbling up the side of the track. "Mind if I ask you a question?" I quietly ask Roman.
"Sure."
I slightly narrow my eyes at the image on the viewscreen. "Is Fenrir gonna be the first one to get an up-close look at that new rocket-hammer of yours?"
Roman smiles coldly, his eyes holding the same sort of intensity I've seen in Alita's. "If I have anything to say about it, you can bet on it." He stands up. "Well, intermission's almost over. Nice talkin' with ya, Jason." He extends an armored hand.
I take his hand and feel my own frail flesh-and-blood hand disappear as he wraps fingers almost three times as big as mine around it and gives a quick shake. There's a moment of vertigo and a flash of panic as I imagine his hand crushing mine to bloody pulp in an instant, feeling the bones ground into splinters. He let's go and heads back towards the rest of his team, gliding on the heavy-duty wheels that make up his motive system.
I take a deep breath and let it out shakily. No significant reaction until I shook his hand, not bad I think. Then I turn my wheelchair toward Alita's bay and head over, stopping when I'm a little ways off to keep from getting in anyone's way as there is still some rush of activity. Roman grabs Ido's attention and the two of them head off to the side where Ido opens up the wheeled crate and pulls out parts to the massive rockethammer, handing them off to Roman, who begins carefully assembling it. I can barely make out Ido mentioning some adjustments he made.
By this time, Malcolm 's already headed off to one of the other bays to check on something, which means Alita's repairs are complete. She steps off her maintenance stand and is immediately accosted by Roberto and Banick who'd been hovering nearby. I wait patiently as I listen to the two of them fawn over Alita like a couple of love-struck teenagers. I can't help but smile to myself as they fall all over themselves trying to one-up each other in her eyes. She is, to no real surprise of my own, grateful for their help out on the track but otherwise unmoved by their overtures.
After a few exchanges Alita makes it clear to them that she, and they, need to get ready for the next ten-lap Contest. They finally begin making their way over to their own bays for some last-minute adjustments while she glides over to me. As the two brothers head off they each shoot curious, if somewhat cool looks in my direction. In an attempt to be friendly I manage a faint smile and a quick wave at them as they go past. They ignore me and continue on.
As Alita pulls up to stop next to me I comment somewhat humorously, "I don't think they like me very much."
She tucks her helmet under one arm, putting on a little smile. "I don't think it's anything like that, those two are just..." She shakes her head, glancing in their direction. Metallic glints are still visible through the tiny tears in her synthetic skin.
"Something else?" I offer helpfully with a lopsided smile. I pat one of my wheelchair's main wheels. "They're probably just jealous 'cause mine are bigger."
She quietly chuckles at that. "Oh, I'm sure that's it," she responds with gentle teasing.
I toss my head in the direction of the track, "Hope you don't mind me saying, you had me a little worried there for a bit."
"Were you?" she says with a knowing look. "Well, you and Ido can both stop worrying. I'm fine."
I shrug off-handedly. "Oh, I don't doubt it. You looked ready to cut Fenrir off at the knees if he came within arm's reach. I am kinda glad you didn't."
"Really," she returns, her expression tensing a bit. "Why's that?"
I nod towards Roman and Ido, as they make some last-minute checks to Roman's rockethammer. "Well, do you really want to deprive Roman of an excellent opportunity to try out his new toy on a deserving target?"
Alita narrows her eyes a little at me, though her mood relaxes, "I thought you didn't much care for this 'blood sport'?"
I lower my gaze, feeling a stab of guilt about that apparent hypocrisy. "While that is true, I like seeing my friends getting kicked around by some egotistical jackass even less, 'blood sport' or no." I look up at her from under the brim of the hat and say in a casual manner, "Call it a character flaw."
She brightens considerably, "I think I can overlook a flaw like that."
At a loss for words, I push my hat back and drop my gaze as I shrug faintly, unable to suppress an awkward grin.
"I better get going." She puts her helmet on and checks herself over briefly. "By the way, how are you holding up?"
I take a moment to consider the question. "Not bad, actually. Guess I was so busy worrying about other things, my anxiety didn't have a chance to cause any trouble." One of the reasons I've been so willing to help out, I found out some years ago that if I can do something for others it forces my attention outward. This can help to prevent the blackhole of my depression from drawing me inward, compressing my world into my own little hell.
"Good," she says, laying a hand on my shoulder briefly. Then she skates off, heading towards her teammates, now gathered together as they ready for the game to resume.
I'd meant to say something more to her as she left, something encouraging, but as so often happens I completely blank out, and no words come to me. So I just sit there silently as I watch Alita and her team prepare for the next half of the game. I sigh in quiet frustration at my inability to articulate a better show of support.
The end of intermission comes quickly and both teams take to the track behind a small, one-person pace car. The pace car leads them down a relatively straight track section before letting a new motorball loose and veering off out of the way. The scene quickly devolves into chaos as the two teams attempt to both damage the closest opponent and gain possession of the 'ball. It's during this moment that Roman makes his first official use of his new rocket-hammer.
He positions himself near Fenrir, on his left side, and without visibly telegraphing his move he triggers the powerful rocket on the back of the hammer. From the view I have, it looks like all he does is let the head of the hammer take off like a tethered missile, his right-handed grip keeping it on a well-aimed arc across his front and off to the side. Fenrir tries to dodge too late, likely caught off-guard by the lack of any sign of impending attack from Roman as well as the hammer's speed.
The business end of the hammer catches Fenrir dead center of his breastplate, the split-ended chisel head smashes against the armor of Fenrir's chest damaging it badly. Almost simultaneously, the HEAT round within triggers, blasting out a stream of molten metal. The destructive force of the HEAT round manages to blow a hole straight through Fenrir's body. Almost half of the chest plate is shattered under the dual impact of the hammer and the blast of the shaped charge.
Fenrir, already teetering from the destructive impact of the hammer, is forced completely off-balance. He lands with a heavy impact on his back and is left sliding along the track in a trail of sparks. Not even past the first lap and Fenrir's already been forced to take to the pits or risk more serious damage now that his chest is exposed. The rest of his team is more fortunate.
I find it difficult to watch without feeling some amount of satisfaction.
The next several laps go by with Alita's team scoring enough points to significantly widen their lead. Roman's new rockethammer proves to be a fearsome addition to Alita's plasma-charged sword, and from the looks of it Roman's plan to keep it as a surprise is working. The opposing team seems to be thrown into a bit of disarray, unsure of how to deal with the new weapon. And this close to the end of the game, they won't have much time to get acclimated to it.
With only a few laps left, the Pit crew and I watch as Fenrir decides to try and do something about this by making another attempt at taking down the object of his seemingly irrational hatred. An opportunity presents itself when Alita, having just gotten possession of the 'ball, gets separated from the pack after going through a particularly hazardous section of track lined with dangerous obstacles.
Fenrir descends on her before any other members of her team can catch up. Armed with a large axe and a whip-like chain, Fenrir manages to entangle Alita's left arm with her sword clipped in it's mounting, the chain wrapping around her forearm and the blade.
I learned from Ido that Alita's sword can normally cut through steel as if it were cardboard even without the plasma field. But with the chain wrapped tightly around it there doesn't seem to be any way for her to get it in hand to either produce the plasma field without causing herself significant damage or get a cutting motion started to slice through the chain. Fenrir then starts violently jerking at the chain to force Alita off-balance and get into position to launch a more damaging attack.
As Fenrir draws Alita in she turns and throws the motorball at him, trying to hit him in the legs from the look of it, but also freeing up her right hand. Fenrir easily evades the thrown motorball, a look of murderous glee on his face as Alita is drawn into striking distance. What happens next is a little hard for me to follow due the nearly blinding speed with which it happens. Alita spreads her legs in a wide split, keeping her rollers inline and must have hit the brakes because she zips under him just as he tries to take her head off with that axe.
She grabs her sword with her right hand, lighting up the blade with that electric-blue plasma field and pulls it out of it's forearm mounting. The blade reduces the chain wrapping her arm to red-hot pieces that bounce and skitter down the track behind the two combatants but also leaves a raging red gash glowing along her forearm in addition to taking off the last two fingers of her left hand. Then she brings her legs together, springing up to a more upright position as she grabs what's left of the chain in her damaged left hand and leaps onto Fenrir's back using the chain he's still holding onto and bracing herself there with a knee.
Fenrir seems to realize he's in trouble because the murderously gleeful expression he had is replaced by one of rage. Instead of letting go of the chain or anything like that, he brings his right elbow back in a strike, attempting to dislodge her.
Alita brings her sword up in a lightning-quick strike that severs his right arm at the bicep, depriving Fenrir of both his arm and the axe held in that hand, leaving the arm and weapon to hit the track and bounce away behind the two combatants.
Fenrir finally thinks to let go of the chain and brings his left elbow back in another attempt to knock her off.
Alita does a little hop off, easily dodging the attack as well as landing nimbly on her feet and whips the chain up, wrapping it around Fenrir's neck. Fenrir tries to whip himself around to face her, but Alita aims a lightning swift kick at the foot he's pivoting on and nearly knocks him off balance, forcing him to right himself without completing the maneuver.
As her enemy brings his hand up to his throat to grab at the whip, she pulls on the chain and again hops onto his back with a knee braced against his lower back and slices his left arm off at the shoulder. Then she pulls herself up so that her head is next to his, her expression one of icy determination and anger. I see her lips move as she says something to Fenrir, then she hops down off his back, performs an unbelievably fast spin (without losing forward momentum) and slices through both legs above his knees with that plasma blade.
I feel a twinge of sympathetic pain in my own non-existant knees, a ghost of the remembered agony of flesh and bone being crushed into the pavement.
Fenrir hits the ground chest-first with an enraged expression, his mouth open in what is likely a furious howl, and begins bouncing and sliding along the track. Alita keeps hold of the chain and begins swinging it, as well as Fenrir, around in a tight arc. After one revolution she releases the chain and Fenrir is sent skidding sideways along the track to fly up the curved side and out into the grounds outside the track.
The Pit area erupts in cheers as the crew joins the crowd's wild excitement at the sight of Alita's victory over her opponent.
Nearby, I hear Malcolm say to Ido with a note of admiration, "That's your girl, eh, Ido?"
"Yes, she is," Ido says in response, his voice full of fatherly pride.
As I'm only able to watch all this on the viewscreen, I have no idea where Fenrir actually landed. All the action was on the section of track that's on the opposite side of the huge central column in the middle of the Pit area. I release a pent-up breath, exhaling in relief as I watch the rest of her team catch up to rejoin her. That whole fight took maybe five seconds, tops. I'd been so focused on Alita's battle with Fenrir that I only just now see that Saza has possession of the 'ball, with Takata running interference with his great-sword-sized katana.
After being beaten down yet again by Alita, there's no sign of Fenrir. From what I overhear from the Pit crew, the damage Alita inflicted on him was too great to be repaired any time soon. Alita and her team still have a harder fight this time, with Saza, Roberto and Banick ending up sidelined with severe damage. Even so, they manage to cut down the other team's numbers even more while still keeping ahead in points. By the end of the game, Alita's team has won rather handily. After the last lap, the losing team makes it's way into the Pit for repairs while the winning team gets a moment in the spotlight as the crowd cheers.
Unlike the rest of her team, Alita doesn't really smile at the cheering crowd, or the reporters. The others have that elated look that comes from achieving a hard-fought victory. Alita merely looks satisfied with the outcome. Not for the first time, I'm reminded that, for her this isn't just about winning. It's about protecting the people she cares about from a madman with entirely too much power over other people's lives. It's about taking the fight to an enemy that is, for now, out of her reach.
While the players are mobbed by throngs of reporters and fans, the Pit crew packs up and heads off to stow the team's equipment. Citing my slower movement speed, I'm told to wait in the locker room while Ido and the team of mechanics hurriedly carry everything out to the team's truck, where the rest of their equipment and spare parts are stored between games. By the time they're done, the paladins show up, having gotten through the horde of fans and reporters.
Then they get down to the business of switching each cyborg's core back to their street body. The atmosphere in the locker room is celebratory, with the paladins and mechanics talking and joking as the work quickly progresses.
Feeling drained and a bit out of it, I sit and listen to the others talk excitedly about the game while waiting for Alita to change back into her everyday body. If you can even call a highly advanced, nano-tech-based weapon with the capability to project a powerful arc-plasma, an 'everyday' anything. She had insisted that the others be taken care of first, so she's last in line.
As I'm sitting there trying to wind down, a well-crafted metal hand holding a bottle comes into view. Looking up, I see Roman, back in his street body holding out a drink of some sort to me.
His features lit up in a friendly grin, he tells me, "Go ahead, you helped with tonight's win, after all."
"Uh, thanks," I say, uncertain of the truth of that statement. After all, I wasn't the one out there taking the hits. The drink turns out to be some kind of beer. Not bad, but I've never been much of a beer-drinker. Still, I drink it to be polite.
"So, having seen a few games up close, what do you think?" Lucas asks me, the slight reddening in his cheeks indicating he's downed a few already.
After casting about for a decent response, the best I come up with is, "It's, uh, interesting."
Lucas' expression becomes incredulous, "Interesting? Just 'interesting'? Come on, you gotta have more than that. Especially after tonight's game! The adrenaline, the roar of the crowd, the electricity in the air!" Having finished with changing out the cyber-cores he was tasked with, he's sitting with Saza, the two of them going over tonight's win.
With a faint shrug, I respond apologetically, "It's just not my thing. Sorry."
"Bah," he scoffs, "you just don' know what yer missin'!"
Saza looks at Lucas sideways, the bottle she's taking a pull from partly hiding an amused smirk. When done, she says to me with a half-grin, "Maybe if you got a more up-close taste of it, you might feel differently. It's a whole 'nother game when you're out on that track. The rush, the speed, the feeling of freedom."
Silently, my brain fills in, 'The smashing, the screaming, the bleeding...' Smiling politely, I nod, "Oh, I don't doubt it." I'm way too old, and way too tired to argue the matter with a bunch of tipsy Motorballers.
It's about then that Alita shows up, back in her Berserker body with Ido in tow. She converses with the others for a bit, and they try to convince her to stay and celebrate for a while longer, but she firmly turns them down. For some reason Roberto and Banick give me a rather mean look after that, like it's my fault she's not staying. We head out and meet up with Koyomi for the ride home. Alita and Ido both join me in the cargo area. I spend the trip back to the clinic in silence, except to respond when Ido makes an occasional comment about the events of the night's game.
Alita is even less talkative than I am, seemingly lost in her own world. The feeling in the cargo area is as if tonight's victory never even happened. After a while, she leans her head on Ido's shoulder and closes her eyes. Despite their company, I feel withdrawn and alone, turning my attention to a dark corner of the van. Once we get to the clinic, we all head inside. Overall it was a relatively good night, but I now feel like a stranger again.
"Well, I'm gonna head to bed," I tell the others. To Alita I say, "Congratulations on another win." I manage to put on a smile. It feels entirely too fake.
"Thanks," Alita says warmly. "You sure you want to turn in now?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty beat," I say, rubbing at my eyes. Not untrue, as I'm feeling suddenly exhausted.
I trade farewells with Ido and Koyomi before retreating upstairs to my room, leaving the three of them to celebrate another step closer to the Championships. I wanted to stay longer and visit, but I feel something deep in the back of my mind telling me, 'You don't belong here.' It's almost overpowering.
