Page 19 of Mongrels United
Nash’s drink arrived. He ordered another and drained that one, while waiting for one of the two to get the ball up into the zero-gee zone where the goal mouths were.
And surprise, surprise, it was Rennell who tossed the ball with the powerful hammer throw needed to get it to the zero-gee zone…straight into one of the Grey’s top men’s waiting hand. The top man used the impetus of the ball to pull him into a roll, straightened out after one-and-a-half revolutions, which put him in the perfect position to overarm the ball straight into the goal mouth.
While the tank was reset for the start of play after a goal, Nash looked around the arena. There were very few people here. He estimated the seats were less than ten percent occupied, with some rows completely empty. The Captain’s box was also empty. It always was.
Nash wondered if Grady Read ever came to games. She must like tankball. She shared an Esquiline house with a tankball player. They had to talk about the game sometimes. And she’d come to Dere Street as Rennell’s backup, while he bought used gear. That showed a degree more interest in the game than anyone else Nash knew.
The game started, pulling his thoughts away from Grady Read—which he had only allowed himself to think about because it stopped him thinking about the white tablets in the strongbox inside a hidden compartment.
This was the first time he’d watched the Grey Team playing. They made all the stupid beginner mistakes, but at times, they showed an almost magical coordination and sense of strategy, as if someone had rubbed the grime off a very old, unknown object and let its true, colorful and surprising nature gleam just in that one spot.
By the time the Grey Team scored the winning goal of the game, three minutes before the end of the last period, Nash had been fully pulled into the game, studying it with a true devotee’s concentration.
In a world that was short on genuine surprises, the Grey Team’s victory was Nash’s first of the day.
The second surprise came two minutes after the Grey Team did their tumbling, soaring victory dance in the top zone, while less than half the audience cheered them. It was a message from Rim, couched in very un-Rim-like language.
Come at once.
Chapter Eight
“Where did you get these from?” Rim demanded, almost before Nash sealed the door behind him. The chemist pointed at the little brown bag with a trembling finger.
“None of your business. What are they?” The skinny man surely had to know. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag Nash back here for anything else.
“You don’t understand,” Rim said, his voice shaking. “Those don’t exist. Theycan’texist. It’s not possible.”
Nash rubbed his jaw. “Problem is, there they are. What are they, Rim? Don’t make me ask again.”
Rim pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat, and from the knobbly outline in the fabric, Nash could see he had his hands tightly fisted. “Those,” Rim pronounced as if he was giving a lecture, “areBellish.”
Nash considered that. He’d heard of Bellish. Always spoken in the same sepulchered tones Rim had just used. It had flourished around the time the Skinwalkers were working outside the ship. Something like that…
“Okay,” Nash said evenly.
“No,notokay,” Rim shot back, his voice rising. “Very muchnotokay.” He smoothed a hand over his thinning red hair. “You shouldn’t have brought these here. Now I know about them. And I don’t want to know about them! Stars and suns!” He gripped his head. Actually squeezed his temples with the heels of his hands, as if he could squeeze out the agony showing in his eyes.
“Slow down, Rim,” Nash said calmly, even though his heart was jumping about, because Rim looked like he was ready to launch into the air. A solid clap of hands would set him off.
“No,youslow down!”
Nash blinked. “Excuse me?”
Rim didn’t even bother turning pale. He pointed at the bag once more. “You have to take them away, Hyson, I mean it, I don’t want to know what you do with them, I don’t want them here.” He stopped, panting.
Nash crossed his arms. “Why don’t you want them here?” he asked quietly.
Rim threw out his hands. “You don’tknowabout Bellish?”
“Just what was in the basicEndurancehistory course,” Nash said. “Big problems, all swept away by shutting down the lab.”
“The Leroux Raid,” Rim said, his voice high and tight. “That’s why these shouldn’t exist. Everything was destroyed. Even the records of the formulas and…and…I don’t know how old these are, but the formula is different from the original. Not much, not to change its essential character, but someone has fiddled with it.”
“If the records of the formulas were destroyed, how do you know this is Bellish?” Nash asked.
“I wasthere! I was apprenticing with the Institute. We tested everything while the Civvies stood over us withguns!”
Nash stared at the bag. What on the whole preciousEndurancewas his father doing with Bellish? He was beginning to understand why the shit had been in a strongbox, hidden in the wall.
