Page 6 of The Stolen Tribute
THREE
KYLIE
Today was not going my way.
I sighed as I cleaned spilled milk from the floor. I’d dropped a carton just as a customer came in, sending 1% milk and cream flying everywhere. I usually had lightning reflexes, thanks to my years of gaming. What was wrong with me lately?
I felt distracted. I hadn’t told Sue that I applied the same night she did, and the deadline was growing closer. I began to regret what I’d done. I knew deep down I didn’t want it. It was just to prove a point.
All of this distraction was effecting my training for the WEG 2062. I had two small-time sponsors, who’d been patient with me, but in the past few weeks, my world-wide ranking had fallen considerably.
My coach was quick to blame the South Korean players, saying that they were using some new keyboards that gave them a millisecond advantage, but I knew he was just trying to spare my feelings. I was getting sloppy, and that scared me more than anything. There was nothing to my life besides pro-gaming. If I didn’t have that, then I was just another high school dropout wanna be.
“You doing ok, kid?” My boss asked.
I looked up. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I lied.
He looked down at me over his hipster eye-glasses. He was older but still dressed in hoodies and flood-length khakis. “It’s been pretty slow, why don’t you head home?”
I glanced at the clock. Did I need the last hour of my pay that bad? Well, yeah, but I was also exhausted.
“Sure,” I said. I guessed the best thing to do was take him up on the offer in case the next thing I spilled was coffee hot enough to get us sued.
I cleaned up the rest of the milk and cream before heading out.
It was a nice summer day, so I didn’t bother with the bus. Instead, I took a long way home to enjoy the sun. Ads flickered on either side of me. There was no escaping them in the city, and today, all the hype was about the Zexian Tributes.
My stomach flipped. Right, only a few days before they chose the finalists. The representatives of Earth had literally nothing to do with it. Apparently, all of our applications were sent to some advanced AI program that the Zexians used to weed out all of the options to the best from each country. From there, the Zexian alien warriors would make their own personal shortlists of who they wanted.
There was no way their AI would choose me. Was there? If there was no chance, why was I so worried. Because even a 0.0001% chance was still not zero.
The news was on in my apartment lobby. The newscasters were talking about the Zexian Tribute Ceremony, just like everyone else. People were crowded around the television, watching the sponsors unveil this year's platform, which was sponsored by Tesla and SpaceX. So California had the ceremony this year, I hadn’t even been paying attention.
“At least if I get chosen, I don’t have to go far,” I laughed to myself.
An older woman looked over her shoulder at me. The way her nose wrinkled at my disheveled appearance told me all I needed to know.
“Joking,” I rolled my eyes at her. Even though I wasn’t. Not really. But her reaction reminded me of how unlikely it was, if not quite a zero chance.
The United States had millions of perfect girls. Why would the AI choose me?
***
I hated working Friday mornings.
I wasn’t sure if it was because I was burnt out or if every single one of my customers had the TGIF attitude going on, but it majorly sucked. I was just looking forward to a weekend off, playing games, and drinking bubble tea. A new DLC for one of my favorite games was coming out, and nothing was going to break my mood.
I moved quickly to get my work done.
Suddenly, the entire café went quiet. It was a sharp silence, the kind that left goosebumps on my skin.
I looked up. “What?”
Everyone was staring at me.
My face went red. “What?” I asked again.
“It’s her,” someone whispered.
