26: Sprint

The date at the end of March was rained off, so the CHERUB Olympiad took place on a warm day at the beginning of April, and kids who misbehaved in the week leading up to it found themselves polishing old silver trophies with the names of CHERUB agents from thirty years ago engraved on the base. All agents not on missions or injured were required to take part in two individual events and a team event, which were all split into age categories. George was competing in the under-13s bracket, and without much idea of what he was good at, he put himself in for the javelin, a swimming race and the 4x100m relay so that he had a spread. Boys and girls competed in the same events because there weren't enough Cherubs to divide everything into two.

All lessons were suspended for the day so that the kids and staff could spectate, and some portable grandstands with garish orange seating had been set up around the athletics track.

"Welcome, everyone," Zara said, standing on a podium and speaking through a loudspeaker. Next to her was a trestle table groaning under the weight of a variety of sporting cups and shields waiting to be awarded. "Competitors, you should have received a timetable of your events, and everyone else, you're free to move from place to place to see any events you like. We've got events on the athletics track, in the pool and in the dojo, so make sure you take everything in. We'll be starting with the long-distance races shortly, so please get comfortable!"

Everyone laughed and started looking at paper programmes that had been handed out with the day's timetable. Cherubs are naturally competitive so most of the talk revolved around who would win each event, and a pair of enterprising navy shirts had set up an illicit betting service which was attracting wagers of up to twenty pounds, mostly on the under-20 age bracket which had mostly black shirts in it.

The first two of George's events were in the morning, which meant that as soon as he'd placed a disappointing seventh in the javelin, he had to rush over to the swimming pool to get changed and shower ready for the 100m freestyle. Despite his vow never to touch a swimming pool again after the water training he'd endured the previous year, as he warmed up on the side of the pool and eyed up the three others he was competing against, he had to admit he was quite excited. Letty waved at him from the sparse crowd that was gathered along the poolside and he waved back before one of the trainee instructors signalled for them all to take their places. George pulled his goggles on and tried to remember the right way to turn when he reached the other end, but the whistle went before he'd had much of a chance to think about it.

George's main focus in the race was to stay swimming in a straight line, which was surprisingly hard. He didn't know where the others were, but when he hit the other end he pushed off and swam underwater for a second before surfacing and heading for the finish. The full-length pool at CHERUB had pressure pads for accurate timing, but they'd been on the fritz for as long as George had been there and it was too difficult to get security clearance to repair them, so the timing were done by the instructor with a stopwatch. Keeping this in mind, George pushed hard until he was in range of the finish and then reached out, grabbing the tiles at the edge of the pool before taking some deep breaths.

He hauled himself out onto the side and Letty handed him a towel, which he used to wipe most of the water off.

"We couldn't tell who won," she said, using a second towel on his hair, "but you were definitely in the running. When did you get so fast?"

"We had a pool at our house in Australia," George grinned. "Used to swim lengths most days."

"Lucky," Letty tutted, whipping him with the towel and making him yelp. "Kept that little fact secret, didn't you?"

In fact, George had come second by thirty milliseconds, but he still felt pretty proud of himself. He received a plastic silver medal with '2nd' printed on it, but the winner got an even tackier-looking one in gold, so it wasn't so bad. Plus, it gave him gloating rights over Rex, who hadn't got a medal in any of his events.

"It's alright, we're together in the relay," George said, checking the programme to see when it was. Team events were divided by floor, so he and Rex were running for the seventh floor.

"The race isn't until nearly the end. They do all of the sprints when all the other events have finished, so everyone can watch," Jemima told them, wearing the two gold medals she'd picked up in gymnastics.

"Right, well I'm going to get some lunch," George said, brushing a hand through his damp hair. "I think they've got snacks and things over by the grandstand."

As he was cramming two chocolate biscuits down his throat and grabbing a plastic cup full of sports drink, George bumped into Katie, who was wearing a tracksuit and had her eyes on the ongoing long jump competition.

"Oh, didn't spot you there," she said, grinning. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself."

George pointed to his medal and made swimming motions.

"Swimming? I'm impressed," Katie laughed. "Looks like all that practice paid off."

After swallowing his biscuits, George downed half of the drink. "What events are you in?"

"One hundred, two hundred and the relay," Katie explained. "I'm in the senior division, which has no age restriction."

"I heard that Meryl Spencer is competing in the senior sprints," George said. "Someone told me she'd won a bronze medal at the Olympics once."

"Ahem, make that a gold," Meryl said, tapping him on the shoulder. "I don't want you younger kids thinking I'm soft."

George jumped and spilt the rest of his drink, making Katie laugh.

"Meryl's been coaching me while I've been on campus," Katie explained. "We'll be competing against each other in the finals, though."

"And don't think I'll go easy on you," Meryl said, patting her rock-hard stomach. "I may be getting on, but I doubt I'll be far outside gold medal time."

"Since Meryl's competing, I was wondering if you wanted to be my coach for the races," Katie asked George. "It's not exactly interesting, just carrying a towel and a bottle of water, but it'll give you something to do."

George grinned. "No problem. Trackside view, right?"

"Exactly."

Before he could start his coaching duties, George lined up on the athletics track for the relay. He was running the second leg, passing the baton to Rex, who gave him a thumbs-up from a hundred metres around the corner. Both the sixth and eighth floors had mustered teams, so there were three teams waiting on the track. George was aware that he was competing against two girls and would look like an idiot if he fell behind, which only added to the tension as the grandstands slowly filled up.

The whistle went and George waited until his teammate was closing before setting off, settling into a fast jog to receive the baton. It was pushed into his hand first of any team and he set off, trying to remember some elementary tips on sprinting that Katie had told him. Nothing, though, helped him save his dignity as the girl in the inside lane moved faster and pulled past. Rex was ahead of him and George made sure he didn't make a mess of passing the baton before slowing down, coming to a halt with his hands on his knees and eyes on the rest of the race, where Rex was clawing back lost ground around the corner. The outside team, which was the eighth floor, fumbled the baton and were disqualified, leaving the final straight as a duel between the sixth and seventh. George's team had the edge as they set off, but nothing prepared them for the lightning legs of sixth floor's final member, who breezed past and finished with five metres to spare. Groaning with disappointment, George set off at a slow jog towards the podium to pick up his second silver medal, getting a fist bump from Rex as he caught up.

"At least I've got a medal now," Rex said as they headed towards where Zara was standing. "Beats anyone who didn't get one."

With all of George's events over, he found Katie and began his duties as her coach, which were more boring than he'd expected. It mostly involved holding her towel and occasionally giving it to her, but he could tell Katie was nervous.

"The relay is first, then the two hundred then the hundred," George said. "Plus, your medals will count towards the sixth floor's total, so you might help them finish better than third."

"Nice to know," Katie smirked, going through some stretches. "At least I don't have to run heats for this one."

"Who else is competing?" George asked, hearing a cheer as another race finished.

"It's probably only Meryl and I who'll be competing for gold, but there are a couple of tall black shirt guys who'll be fast too," Katie said. "I don't actually know how fast Meryl is, but I watched her gold medal race online and she was incredible. Photo finish and everything."

George nodded. "What time do you need?"

"I'm not too bothered about the relay, but anything less than twenty-five seconds in the two hundred and less than twelve in the one hundred," Katie explained. "They're using laser technology on the track, so I don't have to worry about accurate timing."

"Well, I'm sure you'll do great," George told her, passing her the towel. "Just focus on the race."

There was no point running a staff member relay since there weren't enough entries, so Katie was running against other Cherubs. The sixth floor were heavily favoured to win with Katie running the final straight, enough to persuade George to bet a surreptitious two pounds on them.

Katie had drilled running relays hundreds of times and had her timing down perfectly, which meant that the sixth floor was catapulted from last to first during her stretch. Her speed was seriously impressive and outstripped everyone George had seen that day, so when he handed her a water bottle he was awed.

"I wasn't actually going full speed," Katie told him, "I didn't want to go all-out and hurt myself if it didn't count."

"If that was slow, I have no idea what fast is," George said, shaking his head. "There's no way Meryl can keep up."

"She's about six inches taller and has experience on her side," Katie replied. "I'm not confident."

The sixth floor's victory in the final relay awarded them four gold medals, which took them to an unassailable position at the top of the medals table. George didn't mind too much since there was no actual reward for winning, but most of the younger agents on the sixth floor made a big show of celebrating which wound him up.

When Katie lined up for the senior two hundred metres, in lane five with Meryl next to her in lane four, Zara made a big show, reading out all of their names so they could wave. A huge cheer accompanied Meryl's name, but Katie only got some applause and a few boos, which put her off her game and after a false start, she psyched herself out and was slow to get going. To the crowd's delight, Meryl romped home, slowing on the final straight to wave to the crowd as Katie desperately fought to set a good time. She didn't break twenty-five seconds and looked frustrated when she walked over to George, tugging at her sports bra to adjust it.

"Damn it," she said angrily, taking a mouthful of water and spitting it out. "I totally lost my nerve."

"Concentrate on the last race," George said encouragingly. "Ignore the crowd and just wait for the starter's gun."

"I know, I know," she replied irritably, stretching to keep her muscles warm and sipping the water. "I've just got to focus."

To Katie's annoyance there was a delay before the race, which was the final one of the day, after the navy-shirts running the betting got too big for their boots and were caught red-handed. Katie kept loose during the wait, but George could see it was getting to her.

"Let's go onto the track," he suggested. "Maybe acclimatising to the atmosphere will help."

Once everything had died down, Zara picked up the loudspeaker and played the part of the announcer again.

"Here we go everybody, the one you've been waiting for. Our favourites today are, in lane four, Katie Dark, and in lane five, Meryl Spencer, running for the first time in more than ten years!"

Meryl and Katie waved to the crowd and this time it all merged into one big cheer. George recognised how Zara had been clever to avoid Katie getting heckled, and gave Katie a last encouraging pat on the back.

"I'll be waiting at the finish," he said to her before jogging the length of the straight and waiting next to the electronic scoreboard which would flash up the results a few seconds after the race finished. The crowd went silent as the starter called out set, then paused, then fired the pistol.

From where George was standing he couldn't see who got the better start, but it was clear by the fifty metre mark that Katie and Meryl were leaving the others behind. George was just behind the finishing line, which was being watched by Mr Pike, the training instructor, in case the electronics failed, but as the two women crossed the line, it was too close to call for anyone but him.

George waited with his heart in his mouth for a few seconds, eyes glued to the scoreboard, but it flashed up 'Lane 4, 11.36 seconds' as the winner, followed shortly after by a cheer from the crowd.

He jogged over to Katie, who was looking at the board with an expression of relief while Meryl hugged her.

"Amazing," Meryl said, laughing. "That time would've been good enough at the Olympics, you know."

Katie grinned, breathing heavily. "Should be good enough for a scholarship," she managed to say before Meryl ushered her over to the scoreboard to have her picture taken with it. She'd beaten Meryl by more than three-tenths of a second, and the crowd appreciated it, giving Katie a standing ovation as she wiped tears from her cheeks and waved.