Turning Point 26
The timeout buzzer drilled into Kael's skull. Forty seconds left on the clock. Forty seconds to convince four kids they weren't already buried.
He grabbed Ryn's shoulder. She flinched. Her eyes were wet but her jaw was set.
"Listen to me," Kael said. "All of you. Look at me."
Brick stared at the floor. Spin picked at a loose thread on his jersey. Pip was crying silently, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks.
Kael dropped to one knee. The glass was cold through his worn-out sneakers. He could feel the vibration of the crowd above, the bass thrum of the arena's sound system, the hum of the neural dampeners still pulsing from the Viper's bench.
"I'm going out there," he said.
Ryn's head snapped up. "You can't. You're banned."
"I'm not playing. I'm coaching from the court." He pulled off his jacket. Underneath, his old league jersey was faded, the number 7 peeling at the edges. The crowd saw it. The boos started low, then swelled into a roar that shook the glass beneath his feet.
The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers. "That's illegal. He's been banned from league participation."
Kael turned to the referee, a thin man with a shaved head and a scar across his throat. "Show me the rule that says a coach can't stand on the court."
The referee's eyes flicked to the Viper's bench, where Voss stood with her arms crossed. She nodded once. The referee shrugged. "No rule against it. But you touch the ball, you're disqualified. Your whole team."
Kael stepped onto the court. The glass was slick with sweat and condensation from the hundred-foot drop below. The arena lights blazed down, hot enough to make the air shimmer. The Vipers' star player, a man named Dorn with neural implants visible as silver studs along his temples, cracked his neck and smiled.
"Old man wants to die," Dorn said.
Kael didn't answer. He tapped his chest twice, then pointed at Brick. The signal for a wall formation. Brick nodded. Spin wiped his palms on his shorts. Pip stopped crying and stared at the ball like it was a puzzle she hadn't solved yet.
Ryn walked past Kael and whispered, "If you die, I'm killing you."
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers moved like a machine. Dorn took the ball, his implants glowing faintly blue as he processed the court in real time. He faked left, then right. Brick shifted to block. Dorn passed to a Viper guard, who launched the ball at the goal.
Ryn intercepted it.
She moved fast, even with the dampeners dragging at her limbs. She bounced the ball off a shatter zone, the ricochet sending it spinning toward the Viper's goal. The Viper goalie caught it one-handed.
"Forty-five to forty," the announcer said. "Vipers still lead."
Kael whistled. Two short bursts. Spin broke left. Pip broke right. Brick planted himself in the center of the court. The Vipers adjusted, their exosuits whirring as they shifted formation.
Dorn drove at Brick. His shoulder slammed into Brick's chest. The glass beneath them cracked. Brick didn't move. Dorn tried again. The crack spread, a spiderweb of fractures radiating outward.
Kael saw it. The weak spot. The same hollow echo he'd taught them to listen for.
"Brick!" he shouted. "Step back!"
Brick stepped back. Dorn's momentum carried him forward. His foot hit the cracked glass. The shatter zone detonated.
The glass exploded outward. Dorn fell. Brick grabbed the edge of the hole, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. The net below caught Dorn with a sickening snap. Brick hung there, his legs dangling into the void.
The crowd gasped.
Kael ran to the edge. Brick's fingers were slipping. The glass around the hole was still fracturing, tiny cracks racing outward like veins.
"Don't move," Kael said. He lay flat on his stomach and reached down. Brick's hand was slick with sweat. Kael grabbed his wrist.
"Pull," Kael said.
Brick pulled. Kael pulled. The glass groaned. Brick's weight was too much. Kael's ribs screamed. The fishing line stitches pulled tight, blood seeping through his jersey.
Ryn grabbed Kael's ankles. Spin grabbed Ryn's. Pip grabbed Spin's. They formed a chain, pulling together. Brick's other hand found the edge. He hauled himself up, gasping.
The glass held.
Kael rolled onto his back, staring at the lights. His ribs were on fire. Blood pooled in his mouth. He spat it out and stood up.
Dorn was still in the net below. Medics swarmed around him. He wasn't moving.
The referee looked at Kael. "You okay?"
Kael nodded. "Time?"
"Two minutes left in the third quarter. Score's still forty-five to forty."
Kael looked at his team. Brick was pale, his chest heaving. Spin was shaking. Pip had her eyes closed, her lips moving silently.
Ryn was staring at the Viper's bench. Voss was watching her.
"Ryn," Kael said. "Eyes on me."
She looked at him.
"Two minutes. We need five points. Can you do that?"
She didn't answer. She picked up the ball and walked to the center of the court.
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers came at her hard. Two guards, their exosuits glowing, their arms raised to block. Ryn faked left, then spun right. The guards collided. She slipped between them.
Dorn was back on the court. He'd climbed out of the net. His implants were flickering, one of them cracked. He moved stiffly, but he moved.
He charged at Ryn.
Kael saw it coming. He stepped into Dorn's path.
Dorn didn't stop.
The impact drove Kael backward. His feet left the glass. He was airborne, falling, the shatter zone opening beneath him like a mouth.
He hit the net hard. The ropes bit into his back. He bounced once, twice, then hung there, staring up at the court a hundred feet above.
The crowd was silent.
Kael coughed. Blood dripped from his mouth onto his jersey. He could see the lights, the faces, the glass court suspended above him like a frozen lake.
He heard Ryn scream his name.
He grabbed the net and started climbing.
The ropes were rough. They cut into his palms. His ribs screamed with every pull. His legs were shaking. He was thirty feet up when his left hand slipped.
He caught himself. His fingers found a knot. He pulled.
Forty feet. Fifty. The net swayed. The crowd was cheering now, but not for the Vipers. They were cheering for him.
Sixty feet. Seventy. His arms were burning. His vision was blurring. He could see the edge of the court, the glass, the faces of his team looking down at him.
Eighty feet. Ninety.
A hand grabbed his wrist. Brick. The giant pulled him up like he weighed nothing. Kael collapsed onto the glass, gasping.
The referee knelt beside him. "You need a medic."
Kael shook his head. "Time?"
"Thirty seconds left in the third. Score's fifty-five to fifty. Vipers."
Kael sat up. His ribs were cracked. He could feel them grinding. Blood was still dripping from his mouth. He looked at his team.
Ryn was crying. Pip was shaking. Spin was staring at the floor. Brick was holding his hand out.
Kael took it. Brick pulled him to his feet.
"Twenty seconds," Kael said. "We need five points. One play."
He looked at Pip. "You see it?"
Pip nodded. Her voice was small. "The Viper guard on the left. He telegraphs his passes. His eyes go wide before he throws."
Kael looked at Spin. "You ready?"
Spin nodded. His hands were steady.
Kael looked at Ryn. "You trust me?"
She didn't answer. She picked up the ball.
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers moved. Dorn had the ball. His implants were flickering, but he was still fast. He drove at Brick. Brick planted his feet. Dorn passed to the guard on the left.
Pip saw it. His eyes went wide.
She broke left. The pass hit her hands. She turned and threw to Spin.
Spin caught it. He was at the Viper's goal line. The goalie was ready. Spin faked left, then right. The goalie bit. Spin shot.
The ball hit the rim. It bounced up. It hung in the air.
The buzzer sounded.
The ball dropped through the net.
The crowd erupted.
Kael looked at the scoreboard. Fifty-five to fifty-two. Vipers still led. But they'd closed the gap.
The fourth quarter was next.
Kael walked to the bench. His team followed. He sat down and let the medic wrap his ribs. The tape was tight. It hurt. He didn't care.
Ryn sat beside him. "You almost died."
"Almost," Kael said.
"Don't do it again."
"Can't promise that."
She punched his arm. It hurt. He smiled.
The fourth quarter buzzer sounded.
Kael stood up. His ribs screamed. He ignored them.
"Let's go," he said.
The team walked onto the court. The crowd was on their feet. The Vipers were waiting.
Dorn was at center court. His implants were dark. One of them was cracked completely. He was breathing hard.
Kael looked at him. "You done?"
Dorn smiled. "Not yet."
The ball went up.
The fourth quarter was a war.
The Vipers came at them with everything. Dorn was a machine, even with his implants failing. He scored. He blocked. He fouled Brick so hard the giant stumbled.
But Kael's team didn't break.
Ryn scored from the corner. Spin stole a pass and scored on a breakaway. Pip predicted three passes in a row, intercepting each one. Brick held the center, his body a wall of muscle and will.
The score climbed. Fifty-five to fifty-four. Fifty-seven to fifty-six. Sixty to fifty-eight.
Kael's team led by two.
Thirty seconds left.
The Vipers had the ball. Dorn drove. Brick blocked him. Dorn passed. The Viper guard shot. The ball hit the rim. It bounced. Brick grabbed the rebound.
He passed to Ryn.
She ran. The Vipers chased her. She was at the goal line. The goalie was ready. She faked. The goalie bit.
She passed to Pip.
Pip was wide open.
She caught the ball. She looked at the goal. The buzzer was counting down. Five seconds. Four. Three.
She shot.
The ball arced through the air.
The buzzer sounded.
The ball swished through the net.
The crowd exploded.
Kael fell to his knees. His ribs gave out. He hit the glass and lay there, staring at the lights.
Ryn was screaming. Spin was crying. Pip was jumping up and down. Brick picked up Kael and hugged him.
Kael couldn't breathe. He didn't care.
They'd won.
The scoreboard flashed: sixty-one to fifty-eight.
The Undercity Open champions.
Kael looked at the crowd. They were cheering. They were screaming his name. They were throwing confetti.
He looked at his team. They were covered in sweat and blood and grime. They were smiling.
He looked at the glass beneath him. It was cracked. It was broken. But it had held.
He whispered, "Shatterproof."
The lights went out. The crowd roared. The team lifted him onto their shoulders.
Kael Voss, the disgraced champion, the gutter coach, the man who'd thrown a match for his sister's life, was carried off the court.
He was home.
He grabbed Ryn's shoulder. She flinched. Her eyes were wet but her jaw was set.
"Listen to me," Kael said. "All of you. Look at me."
Brick stared at the floor. Spin picked at a loose thread on his jersey. Pip was crying silently, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks.
Kael dropped to one knee. The glass was cold through his worn-out sneakers. He could feel the vibration of the crowd above, the bass thrum of the arena's sound system, the hum of the neural dampeners still pulsing from the Viper's bench.
"I'm going out there," he said.
Ryn's head snapped up. "You can't. You're banned."
"I'm not playing. I'm coaching from the court." He pulled off his jacket. Underneath, his old league jersey was faded, the number 7 peeling at the edges. The crowd saw it. The boos started low, then swelled into a roar that shook the glass beneath his feet.
The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers. "That's illegal. He's been banned from league participation."
Kael turned to the referee, a thin man with a shaved head and a scar across his throat. "Show me the rule that says a coach can't stand on the court."
The referee's eyes flicked to the Viper's bench, where Voss stood with her arms crossed. She nodded once. The referee shrugged. "No rule against it. But you touch the ball, you're disqualified. Your whole team."
Kael stepped onto the court. The glass was slick with sweat and condensation from the hundred-foot drop below. The arena lights blazed down, hot enough to make the air shimmer. The Vipers' star player, a man named Dorn with neural implants visible as silver studs along his temples, cracked his neck and smiled.
"Old man wants to die," Dorn said.
Kael didn't answer. He tapped his chest twice, then pointed at Brick. The signal for a wall formation. Brick nodded. Spin wiped his palms on his shorts. Pip stopped crying and stared at the ball like it was a puzzle she hadn't solved yet.
Ryn walked past Kael and whispered, "If you die, I'm killing you."
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers moved like a machine. Dorn took the ball, his implants glowing faintly blue as he processed the court in real time. He faked left, then right. Brick shifted to block. Dorn passed to a Viper guard, who launched the ball at the goal.
Ryn intercepted it.
She moved fast, even with the dampeners dragging at her limbs. She bounced the ball off a shatter zone, the ricochet sending it spinning toward the Viper's goal. The Viper goalie caught it one-handed.
"Forty-five to forty," the announcer said. "Vipers still lead."
Kael whistled. Two short bursts. Spin broke left. Pip broke right. Brick planted himself in the center of the court. The Vipers adjusted, their exosuits whirring as they shifted formation.
Dorn drove at Brick. His shoulder slammed into Brick's chest. The glass beneath them cracked. Brick didn't move. Dorn tried again. The crack spread, a spiderweb of fractures radiating outward.
Kael saw it. The weak spot. The same hollow echo he'd taught them to listen for.
"Brick!" he shouted. "Step back!"
Brick stepped back. Dorn's momentum carried him forward. His foot hit the cracked glass. The shatter zone detonated.
The glass exploded outward. Dorn fell. Brick grabbed the edge of the hole, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. The net below caught Dorn with a sickening snap. Brick hung there, his legs dangling into the void.
The crowd gasped.
Kael ran to the edge. Brick's fingers were slipping. The glass around the hole was still fracturing, tiny cracks racing outward like veins.
"Don't move," Kael said. He lay flat on his stomach and reached down. Brick's hand was slick with sweat. Kael grabbed his wrist.
"Pull," Kael said.
Brick pulled. Kael pulled. The glass groaned. Brick's weight was too much. Kael's ribs screamed. The fishing line stitches pulled tight, blood seeping through his jersey.
Ryn grabbed Kael's ankles. Spin grabbed Ryn's. Pip grabbed Spin's. They formed a chain, pulling together. Brick's other hand found the edge. He hauled himself up, gasping.
The glass held.
Kael rolled onto his back, staring at the lights. His ribs were on fire. Blood pooled in his mouth. He spat it out and stood up.
Dorn was still in the net below. Medics swarmed around him. He wasn't moving.
The referee looked at Kael. "You okay?"
Kael nodded. "Time?"
"Two minutes left in the third quarter. Score's still forty-five to forty."
Kael looked at his team. Brick was pale, his chest heaving. Spin was shaking. Pip had her eyes closed, her lips moving silently.
Ryn was staring at the Viper's bench. Voss was watching her.
"Ryn," Kael said. "Eyes on me."
She looked at him.
"Two minutes. We need five points. Can you do that?"
She didn't answer. She picked up the ball and walked to the center of the court.
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers came at her hard. Two guards, their exosuits glowing, their arms raised to block. Ryn faked left, then spun right. The guards collided. She slipped between them.
Dorn was back on the court. He'd climbed out of the net. His implants were flickering, one of them cracked. He moved stiffly, but he moved.
He charged at Ryn.
Kael saw it coming. He stepped into Dorn's path.
Dorn didn't stop.
The impact drove Kael backward. His feet left the glass. He was airborne, falling, the shatter zone opening beneath him like a mouth.
He hit the net hard. The ropes bit into his back. He bounced once, twice, then hung there, staring up at the court a hundred feet above.
The crowd was silent.
Kael coughed. Blood dripped from his mouth onto his jersey. He could see the lights, the faces, the glass court suspended above him like a frozen lake.
He heard Ryn scream his name.
He grabbed the net and started climbing.
The ropes were rough. They cut into his palms. His ribs screamed with every pull. His legs were shaking. He was thirty feet up when his left hand slipped.
He caught himself. His fingers found a knot. He pulled.
Forty feet. Fifty. The net swayed. The crowd was cheering now, but not for the Vipers. They were cheering for him.
Sixty feet. Seventy. His arms were burning. His vision was blurring. He could see the edge of the court, the glass, the faces of his team looking down at him.
Eighty feet. Ninety.
A hand grabbed his wrist. Brick. The giant pulled him up like he weighed nothing. Kael collapsed onto the glass, gasping.
The referee knelt beside him. "You need a medic."
Kael shook his head. "Time?"
"Thirty seconds left in the third. Score's fifty-five to fifty. Vipers."
Kael sat up. His ribs were cracked. He could feel them grinding. Blood was still dripping from his mouth. He looked at his team.
Ryn was crying. Pip was shaking. Spin was staring at the floor. Brick was holding his hand out.
Kael took it. Brick pulled him to his feet.
"Twenty seconds," Kael said. "We need five points. One play."
He looked at Pip. "You see it?"
Pip nodded. Her voice was small. "The Viper guard on the left. He telegraphs his passes. His eyes go wide before he throws."
Kael looked at Spin. "You ready?"
Spin nodded. His hands were steady.
Kael looked at Ryn. "You trust me?"
She didn't answer. She picked up the ball.
The buzzer sounded.
The Vipers moved. Dorn had the ball. His implants were flickering, but he was still fast. He drove at Brick. Brick planted his feet. Dorn passed to the guard on the left.
Pip saw it. His eyes went wide.
She broke left. The pass hit her hands. She turned and threw to Spin.
Spin caught it. He was at the Viper's goal line. The goalie was ready. Spin faked left, then right. The goalie bit. Spin shot.
The ball hit the rim. It bounced up. It hung in the air.
The buzzer sounded.
The ball dropped through the net.
The crowd erupted.
Kael looked at the scoreboard. Fifty-five to fifty-two. Vipers still led. But they'd closed the gap.
The fourth quarter was next.
Kael walked to the bench. His team followed. He sat down and let the medic wrap his ribs. The tape was tight. It hurt. He didn't care.
Ryn sat beside him. "You almost died."
"Almost," Kael said.
"Don't do it again."
"Can't promise that."
She punched his arm. It hurt. He smiled.
The fourth quarter buzzer sounded.
Kael stood up. His ribs screamed. He ignored them.
"Let's go," he said.
The team walked onto the court. The crowd was on their feet. The Vipers were waiting.
Dorn was at center court. His implants were dark. One of them was cracked completely. He was breathing hard.
Kael looked at him. "You done?"
Dorn smiled. "Not yet."
The ball went up.
The fourth quarter was a war.
The Vipers came at them with everything. Dorn was a machine, even with his implants failing. He scored. He blocked. He fouled Brick so hard the giant stumbled.
But Kael's team didn't break.
Ryn scored from the corner. Spin stole a pass and scored on a breakaway. Pip predicted three passes in a row, intercepting each one. Brick held the center, his body a wall of muscle and will.
The score climbed. Fifty-five to fifty-four. Fifty-seven to fifty-six. Sixty to fifty-eight.
Kael's team led by two.
Thirty seconds left.
The Vipers had the ball. Dorn drove. Brick blocked him. Dorn passed. The Viper guard shot. The ball hit the rim. It bounced. Brick grabbed the rebound.
He passed to Ryn.
She ran. The Vipers chased her. She was at the goal line. The goalie was ready. She faked. The goalie bit.
She passed to Pip.
Pip was wide open.
She caught the ball. She looked at the goal. The buzzer was counting down. Five seconds. Four. Three.
She shot.
The ball arced through the air.
The buzzer sounded.
The ball swished through the net.
The crowd exploded.
Kael fell to his knees. His ribs gave out. He hit the glass and lay there, staring at the lights.
Ryn was screaming. Spin was crying. Pip was jumping up and down. Brick picked up Kael and hugged him.
Kael couldn't breathe. He didn't care.
They'd won.
The scoreboard flashed: sixty-one to fifty-eight.
The Undercity Open champions.
Kael looked at the crowd. They were cheering. They were screaming his name. They were throwing confetti.
He looked at his team. They were covered in sweat and blood and grime. They were smiling.
He looked at the glass beneath him. It was cracked. It was broken. But it had held.
He whispered, "Shatterproof."
The lights went out. The crowd roared. The team lifted him onto their shoulders.
Kael Voss, the disgraced champion, the gutter coach, the man who'd thrown a match for his sister's life, was carried off the court.
He was home.