trucks, and trains. Now? Nothing but Humans, HeavyG, the three castes of Quyth, some Ki, and even a few Sklorno females all wrapped up from head to toe. Sentients lined the barriers, at least a hundred deep.
Quentin didn’t know what anthropomorphic meant, but he did know the word hayseed .
And that wasn’t what he was. Not anymore.
“Don’t worry about it,” Don said. “No one is here to see you, anyway, kid — they’re here to see their hero .”
Yitzhak laughed and stood, holding his T2 Tourney MVP trophy high, waving it at the adoring crowd. Quentin had to smile at the third-string quarterback’s exuberance. Zak was soaking up the moment.
The Krakens had earned promotion to T1 with their semi-final win over the Texas Earthlings, while the Chillich Spider-Bears had won their promotion with a semi-final victory over the Citadel Aquanauts. The actual T2 Tourney championship game hadn’t mattered. That was why Zak played. Both Quentin and Don Pine had sat out the final championship game, as had most of the starters. The Chillich Spider-Bears had done the same, fielding an entire team of backups. That was just smart football — both teams had already qualified for Tier One, let the starters rest up for the big time.
So Zak started the championship game, but he didn’t care about starters or second string or third string — he’d played his butt off and led the Krakens to a win. The win meant a “championship,” and that meant a parade.
Quentin, Don, and Yitzhak rode in the front seat of the second train car. Since Ionath City was domed, weather was always controlled and all train cars were open-air.
Public transit train cars had seven rows of species-specific seats that always went in the same order: Quyth Leader and Warrior, then Human, HeavyG, Ki, and Sklorno. Human rows had five seats, HeavyG only three to handle the wider bodies. Sklorno rows had those strange, abdomen-supporting seats the ladies required. Ki seats were little more than flat beams that allowed the long creatures to rest their multiple legs. Quyth Workers had their own train cars, as they weren’t allowed to use the same facilities as Leaders and Warriors.
The three quarterbacks had a train car all to themselves. City leaders had wanted to stretch the parade out, so each of the sixteen cars in the procession held three to five players or team staff.
The car ahead of Quentin’s was the parade’s lead car. It held three Quyth Leaders: Coach Hokor the Hookchest, his yellow and black fur puffed up to full thickness; Gredok the Splithead, his glossy black fur as smooth and unruffled as ever; and an orange- and black-furred leader that Don had said was the mayor of Ionath City. The mayor apparently had white fur, but painted it up in Krakens colors for the big parade.
In the seat behind those leaders rode Choto the Bright and Virak the Mean, who had returned along with Gredok. Quentin couldn’t even look at them without feeling a simmering rage. Both of the linebackers had casts on their legs. As tough as the two of them were, apparently there was someone tougher. Quentin thought he’d extricated Virak from goon-duty, but apparently there was more work to be done. The linebacker’s primary job was now football, but he was still dangerous enough that Gredok would use him whenever the situation demanded it. For a public event like this, Virak and Choto would stay close to Gredok, their leader, their Shamakath .
Even Doc, the team’s physician, participated in the parade. A Harrah, Doc flew in slow circles around the lead car, his wide, stingray-like wings gracefully pushing him along. Orange and black streamers trailed from his tapered tail.
In the train cars somewhere behind Quentin were all of his teammates: Yassoud, Mum-O-Killowe, Stockbridge, Denver, his fullback Tom Pareless and dozens more — the sentients that had pulled together to put the Krakens in Tier One.
The players of the Ionath Krakens.
His players.
His,
Quentin didn’t know what anthropomorphic meant, but he did know the word hayseed .
And that wasn’t what he was. Not anymore.
“Don’t worry about it,” Don said. “No one is here to see you, anyway, kid — they’re here to see their hero .”
Yitzhak laughed and stood, holding his T2 Tourney MVP trophy high, waving it at the adoring crowd. Quentin had to smile at the third-string quarterback’s exuberance. Zak was soaking up the moment.
The Krakens had earned promotion to T1 with their semi-final win over the Texas Earthlings, while the Chillich Spider-Bears had won their promotion with a semi-final victory over the Citadel Aquanauts. The actual T2 Tourney championship game hadn’t mattered. That was why Zak played. Both Quentin and Don Pine had sat out the final championship game, as had most of the starters. The Chillich Spider-Bears had done the same, fielding an entire team of backups. That was just smart football — both teams had already qualified for Tier One, let the starters rest up for the big time.
So Zak started the championship game, but he didn’t care about starters or second string or third string — he’d played his butt off and led the Krakens to a win. The win meant a “championship,” and that meant a parade.
Quentin, Don, and Yitzhak rode in the front seat of the second train car. Since Ionath City was domed, weather was always controlled and all train cars were open-air.
Public transit train cars had seven rows of species-specific seats that always went in the same order: Quyth Leader and Warrior, then Human, HeavyG, Ki, and Sklorno. Human rows had five seats, HeavyG only three to handle the wider bodies. Sklorno rows had those strange, abdomen-supporting seats the ladies required. Ki seats were little more than flat beams that allowed the long creatures to rest their multiple legs. Quyth Workers had their own train cars, as they weren’t allowed to use the same facilities as Leaders and Warriors.
The three quarterbacks had a train car all to themselves. City leaders had wanted to stretch the parade out, so each of the sixteen cars in the procession held three to five players or team staff.
The car ahead of Quentin’s was the parade’s lead car. It held three Quyth Leaders: Coach Hokor the Hookchest, his yellow and black fur puffed up to full thickness; Gredok the Splithead, his glossy black fur as smooth and unruffled as ever; and an orange- and black-furred leader that Don had said was the mayor of Ionath City. The mayor apparently had white fur, but painted it up in Krakens colors for the big parade.
In the seat behind those leaders rode Choto the Bright and Virak the Mean, who had returned along with Gredok. Quentin couldn’t even look at them without feeling a simmering rage. Both of the linebackers had casts on their legs. As tough as the two of them were, apparently there was someone tougher. Quentin thought he’d extricated Virak from goon-duty, but apparently there was more work to be done. The linebacker’s primary job was now football, but he was still dangerous enough that Gredok would use him whenever the situation demanded it. For a public event like this, Virak and Choto would stay close to Gredok, their leader, their Shamakath .
Even Doc, the team’s physician, participated in the parade. A Harrah, Doc flew in slow circles around the lead car, his wide, stingray-like wings gracefully pushing him along. Orange and black streamers trailed from his tapered tail.
In the train cars somewhere behind Quentin were all of his teammates: Yassoud, Mum-O-Killowe, Stockbridge, Denver, his fullback Tom Pareless and dozens more — the sentients that had pulled together to put the Krakens in Tier One.
The players of the Ionath Krakens.
His players.
His,
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