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It worried Sandy. Everyone was celebrating his exemplary skills today, but she could see the strain on his face whenever the camera got a closeup of his expression. There was a new tension there that she hadn’t seen before.
She couldn’t bring herself to cheer with the others as Rane completely dominated the game.
Maybe she should have waited to tell him what Drevor told her. But she hadn’t wanted to explain their plan in the manor, in case Elffa was listening in. She also wanted to tell him as soon as possible, and this had been the best moment she had to speak with him alone.
But perhaps she should have waited. Was he like this because of what she said?
One of the opposing team members juked their beaters as they were playing defense and rushed towards Rane, who had the ball and was dodging obstacles on his way to the goal.
As Sandy watched, Rane saw the guy approach, turned, and punched him square in the face. Hard enough that, even from this distance, Sandy and a few others winced. She could almost swear she heard the crack as the other male flew back, a trail of blood droplets floating behind him.
The cameras zoomed in on Rane, and she shivered.
He looked so cold. So detached.
Trikball was a violent game, and getting punched square in the face wasn’t just acceptable, it was expected. No one condemned him even as they had to pause the game as the guy swam down, holding his nose, to seek medical attention.
That was the benefit of alien technology. Trikball was incredibly violent, but the players could also be patched up in moments.
While the injured player was getting fixed up, a little robot was sent into the sphere to clean the floating bubbles of blood. Sandy watched as Sal tried to approach Rane, but he turned and began doing laps.
One could say that he was just trying to stay warm for the game, that he didn’t want to lose his momentum. A few of the others were doing the same thing. But it was very clear to Sandy that he was just trying to get away from Sal.
No. Not just Sal. His entire team.
“Crap,” she muttered to herself.
Something had happened, and maybe she had something to do with it, but whatever it was, he had decided to vent his anger on his friends.
She bit her lip, keeping her eye on him as the injured player came back and everyone returned to their positions. Not the starting position. Instead, they returned to where they had been when play had paused. Lights, like mirages of their bodies left behind, showed them the way. They all got back into their spots, including the injured player, having to arc his body like he had just been knocked back.
The buzzer sounded, and play commenced.
She was tense the rest of the game. The others in the box noticed her unease and tried to ask her what was wrong, but she could only say that she was fine. Which wasn’t even a lie. She was fine. It was Rane she was worried about.
Rane threw one last goal, making the buzzer sound. However, when the next play set up – which was a dummy play since there were barely seconds left on the clock – he didn’t even bother to launch himself off his starting position.
Instead, he moved down, aiming for the exit, so that when the final buzzer rang, he could immediately drop out and walk off the field.
Sandy was up at the same moment, rushing for the lift that would take her down. She had to change lifts about halfway since the private boxes didn’t go directly to the underground tunnels where the locker rooms were at. She rushed between them, heart pounding.
By the time she got there, the rest of the team was just walking down the hall. They were sweaty, a few were bruised – only serious injuries stopped gameplay. They were supposed to go directly into the clinic, but Sal walked right past the door. He looked to be heading to the locker room, but when he caught sight of her, he changed directions.
“What happened?” Sandy asked before he had a chance to speak.
He came up short, frowning at her. “That’s what I was going to ask. He was fine before you asked to talk to him alone.” He didn’t even need her to elaborate. He had seen the way Rane had been playing as well and also understood it to be a bad thing.
Sandy shook her head. “He was fine when he left. I mean, a bit freaked out, but that’s to be expected. He wasn’t mad.”
“What was he freaked out about?”
“It’s personal.”
“Seriously?” His navy blue crest began to rise in his irritation. “Sandy, this isn’t a game-”
“It actually really is,” she countered, glaring at him. “What did you say to him during warm up? Because he was fine before then.”
“Nothing. He was off because of whatever you said to him, so I just asked him what was wrong. Look, if you two are having some kind of lover’s spat-”
