
Chapter 8: Kwin
Hock note: While Milo carried the infant on a tour of the central campus, a popular young soccer star named Kwin Vacker practiced above with her teammates. Unfortunately, her position has been challenged by one of those teammates, a cyborg named Alec.
He was one of those big, augmented cyborgs who thought he owned the soccer field. To prove it, he kicked players who got in his way, especially those who might be better or faster than him. He would often feign going after the ball but injure a player to take them out of the scrimmage. His enlarged quads and robotic joints could do some damage to a real knee.
This time, it should have been a foul. Coach should have thrown him out of practice. But unfortunately, when Alec struck Mischa's leg, Coach wasn't looking.
Kwin Vacker saw it.
Kwin was a goalkeeper. It was her job to follow the play. When she saw what happened, however, she left her goal untended. She ran over to Mischa, put her arm around her friend, and helped her limp to the bench. She slipped a robotic brace over Mischa's knee to get her back in the scrimmage. But while she attended to Mischa, Alec put the ball he stole from Mischa into Kwin's empty goal, scoring a point for his side in the scrimmage.
Coach saw that.
Coach Logan was in shape for a middle-aged woman. She must have used those electro-muscle stimulations to keep her tone because she looked good when she chewed out Kwin. "Where's Kwin? Where's the goalkeeper?"
Kwin ran back to the box. "Over here, Coach. I was-"
"I don't want excuses. I want you in the goal box. Goalkeepers stay in the goal box. They don't run all over the field. If you want to attend players on the bench, I'll put you there. Do you hear me?"
Alec appeared in front of Coach, smiling big and wide. Even his mouth was fake. "I can play goalkeeper."
"Mischa was hurt-"
"You weren't in the box," Coach said. "I want Alec to take your place."
At least her fans understood. They floated both above and around the field. They were, of course, outraged by this terrible injustice. They booed the usurper, Alec. Some even booed Coach. After all, most had come for her. She appreciated that. Her fans were the best.
"I'm the spinning goalkeeper," she told Coach. She pointed to Alec as she spoke. "Me, not him."
She made sure to be emphatic about this. Her outburst needed to be a big and showy spectacle. She had been robbed. Besides, her fans were watching, and she couldn't let them down.
To prove her point, she kicked the ball hard, sending it sailing. She wasn't a large person, not tall like Jules or stocky like Nedda. She didn't have that bully brawn like the usurper Alec who had wronged Mischa. While Alec and other athletes optimized their bodies for power, she had been tailored. Her muscles were a finely tuned balance of strength and aesthetic appeal. Her face was likewise fashioned for alluring charm. She was an expensive, high-strung work of art.
When the crowd cheered her outburst, she lit the area with a smile. They loved it; they loved her. She wasn't conceited about this or anything. She simply knew the effect she had on people, so she smiled wide and pretty when the ball sailed far beyond the college grounds. She wanted to put it in orbit. It didn't go that far, of course, but her admirers still cheered because she captivated them.
"Another display like that and you're off the team," Coach said. "Understood?"
The athletes scrimmaged in full view directly above the central campus area, wearing either bright green or lustrous gold jerseys, and playing with a supernatant floating ball. Red laser lines delineated the boundaries of the soccer field. Likewise, the goals floated on each end of the field and a red laser formed the center line.
She pumped her legs to stay aloft as she turned back to Coach. The shoes worked that way up in the air, she had to keep pumping or she would sink down toward the ground. She wore bright yellow Pondus shoes because they made her the fastest. Most of the pros on her team wore Gravedad, except for Jules, who wore those crummy Dozzinales. But the Pondus repelled gravity better than the Gravedad. Sure, the Pondus were harder to control, but she was better than the others. She could control them.
"Coach, don't do this," Kwin said. "I'm the best and you know it. He can't win without fouling players."
Alec took that special moment to smirk at Kwin. He knew he was winning, at least with Coach.
From Kwin's standpoint, though, he now had three strikes against him. First, he had injured Mischa. Second, he was trying to take the legitimate and inalienable goalkeeper position away from her. And third, he smirked at her.
"Kwin," Coach said emphatically, putting a finger in her face, "You weren't in the box. I want Alec to play goalkeeper. I can't have this happening again. You hear me?"
"Coach, there's nobody better than me. You know that."
Coach relaxed a bit. That's because she knew Kwin was right. She knew Kwin was the best. "Alright, you can challenge Alec for the post. If you beat him, you can play. Just make sure you're in the goal box next time. I don't want this happening again. Now I won't hear another word about it."
Kwin glared at Alec. That smirk bothered her. She didn't like it one bit. Somebody kicking her friend had no right to be smirking at her. She pointed a finger in Alec's face. "You're never going to play."
"Babe," Alec said, still smirking, "you're hot when you're spun up like that."
The pros on her team knew better than to say something like that to her. He got a second ball slammed into his stomach. Hard. She might not be as large as him, and she might not have those oversized augmented pecs or robotic elbows, but she could pack a punch. A mighty good punch.
"Oooof."
The smirk was gone. At least she could feel good about that. Her spectators cheered wildly, as they should.
The following week, she challenged Alec for the goalkeeper position like she had been told. And when they started their next scrimmage, Coach gave her the nod. There was never any doubt. She could whip the finest of them, Nedda, Jules, and even Coach. Coach tried to score on her once, but Kwin stopped the ball every time. She might not be large for a goalkeeper, but she was fast and she had the skill. Her athletic brain implant was the top-of-the-line. Yeah, she was the best and she looked good doing it. Nobody scored when she was in the box.
When they scrimmaged, her side always won. The other side could never score, She made sure of that. Her fans hooted and hollered. They expected it. That's why they came to watch her. That's why they obsessed over her.
Like this time. There was another practice scrimmage. She had already stopped five shots and she watched closely as Mischa brought the ball down the field. Mischa was too timid with her robotic brace. Nedda and Jack crowded her, trying to steal it.
Even though Misha was on the other side for this scrimmage, Kwin yelled out encouragement to her friend. "Don't be afraid of them. Remember, you're better than they are. Charge them. That's the way. You've got it."
Kwin cheered when Mischa stole the ball back from Nedda. But then Jack and Nedda crowded around her trying to block her progress. Others got in the way. Kwin couldn't see what happened next. She tread the air in the goalbox, pedaling softly to stay aloft.
Down below, a boy walked casually around on the walkway that bordered the central campus. Kwin stopped pedaling momentarily to stare at him. It wasn't her fault; she couldn't help it. He carried Axion's marks. Bright red welts flashed all over his body. Horrible. He'd been a naughty boy.
Why did he have the marks? Why was he allowed on the grounds? Why wasn't he hiding? Why wasn't he running? Wasn't he afraid? He had been marked by Axion and he just walked casually. Worse yet, he stopped and sat down on the lawn. He didn't care what anybody thought. What a rebel. He wanted attention. Well, she would never fall for a trick like that. She wouldn't give him a whiff of attention.
While she watched him, however, forgetting to pump her legs, she sank down too far beneath the goalbox. The ball sailed above her.
"Goal!"
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