"I missed it?" he jested. "Where did it go?"
"Ha-ha-ha," said jacoby. "Ha. Will someone get him up to speed here?"
Let's get up to speed too.
National distinctions did not survive the move to Urtthoo from Earth. These distinctions had already grown weak, and in the planetary transition people of all Earth nationalities were thrown and shaken together, and then grew where they were planted. Individuals continued to cherish aspects of their Earth culture, especially as manifested in the visual and culinary arts; but they were no longer surrounded by those who shared the same heritage.
Nations eventually did re-form on Urtthoo and again on Urtthri. But they were formed for administrative purposes, and no longer featured cultural homogeneity.
Sports and the arts made seamless moves to both planets, mostly. Symphony halls and stadiums; arenas and museums; aquatic centers and aquariums; courses, courts and galleries sprang up and mostly flourished.
By the time humanity left Earth, basketball and baseball had joined football ("soccer") as fully global team sports. Each sport established successful leagues on each planet.
American football tried.
Wealthy former Americans formed an American football league on Urtthoo. They time-shared fields with baseball and world football. They were never able to fill their rented stands, though, and in their half- to 3/100ths-full venues they could never recapture the pageantry and grandeur, the passion and awe of American football in America.
American football struggled for life on Urtthoo and did not survive the move to Urtthri. All that was left were digital video archives and less than ten million people who could appreciate the beauty in these relics.
"It's so sad," said Big Jake. "So much beauty-gone. An extinct sport."
When the Urtthrians found the Coryans, they were delighted to learn the Coryans already played a ball-kicking sport. The ball was smaller, not paneled and uni-colored, and there was no net and no head moves; but otherwise it was football.
The Urtthrian Basketball League immediately saw an opportunity in the newly discovered planet. Basketball invaded Cory before the Urtthrian financial or technological sectors. The UBL's developmental league was moved to Cory. Free buses would take the Coryans to D-league arenas, where they would watch the tall Urtthrians run, spin, jump and send each other flying. The average full-grown Coryan male was no bigger than the average early adolescent Urtthrian male, so the UBL lowered the hoop by 1/10th and then established adult training camps and youth outreach programs on Cory. The outreach was wildly successful. Coryans paid to see games now; there was a television contract; and in every neighborhood Coryan adults and children could be seen dribbling, shuffling their feet, running, spinning, jumping and sending each other flying.
Urtthrian Baseball had cautiously watched the efforts of the UBL, and was now ready to make its own move into Cory. Two UBA teams had been drafted for an exhibition in Cory's Central City. Jake and jake had been tabbed to call the historic game.
"Play it again," said jacoby to his producer.
The producer pushed a button, and a portion of a phone call played back to the production team.
" . . . and we would like Jake and jake to call the game! They have a real down-to-earth, relatable style, and we think the Coryans will love them. You could do your show before a live walk-in crowd throughout the week leading up. We'll be bringing a shipload of Hall of Famers plus you'll have the personnel of both teams at your disposal-enough for months'-worth of interviews . . . "
"Down-to-earth style," laughed jacoby.
"Down-to-cory anyway," said Jake.
"Later on in the conversation he called us Ambassadors of Sport. Ambassadors of Sport-I could get used to that."
"It is a great honor," agreed Jake.
* * *
Two weeks before the inaugural baseball game, Coryans began to pour into Central City. The Jake and jake crew set up in a large square, which was cordoned off for the week before the game and entry tickets issued by lottery for each day. The entire planet tuned in to Jake and jake's broadcasts every morning, and anticipation had built to a fever pitch by the time game day rolled around.
For the three hours before game time, 100,000 Coryans entered the converted football venue through its dozens of entrances. Coryan fathers carried Coryan babies wearing tiny baseball caps and logoed shirts. Coryan boys and girls brought their brand-new gloves, and stood in line for autographs; and later for ice cream and soft drinks, chips and nuts.
A rumbling soundtrack played as the PA announcer called out the names of coaches and players. The teams stood on the baseline for the jet flyover and accompanying raucous applause; then one team broke for the field and the other for their dugout-and the game was on. The teams were the Dodgers, wearing white; and the Blue Wave, wearing blue. The Coryans didn't know what a dodger was, but accepted it that that was the name of the baseball team.
The first hit (after the first out) was a line drive smoked behind the pitcher and past second base, falling in shallow center field. The next play was a double play. The shortstop picked and flipped in one smooth motion; the second baseman caught and shot in another. The ball thwacked into the first baseman's glove, the umpire pumped his fist authoritatively, the Coryans gasped in amazement; and the Dodgers ran off the field while the Wave ran on.
Twenty-three Coryans acquired foul ball souvenirs that night. One got a home run-hit in the bottom of the fifth by a Dodger. The lone long ball plated three runs. The Dodgers won the game 5-3.
Urtthrian Baseball won a planet of fans. The entire planet had tuned in to the action. Jake and jake were down-to-cory and relatable. The game was explained graphically during its breaks. The rhythms and spatial aspects of the game appealed to Coryan sensibilities. The punctuation of the offense, the speed and grace of the defense-many Coryans fell asleep that night hearing and seeing these things in their heads. Others would see their laughing wife or husband; their glowing children; their alert and interested and then suddenly and snuggily zonked-out baby. They knew they would be back.
* * *
ROCI'S THOUGHTS ON FAMILY
That's a family, Roci told the cat.
Roci and the cat sat in the grass near the tall tree. Their necks were tilted back back back and their faces were tilted upwards as they watched the family in the tree. A mother bird was feeding her gaping babies in a nest at the base of a branch.
The Mama bird and Papa bird built the house out of little pieces, Roci told the cat. It took them forever! Then they sat on their babies so they wouldn't get cold. Grown birds are warm like you-they have much hair. But baby birds are naked like people with no clothes. Now the Mama and Papa bird feed them every day. Soon they will be fluffy; then they will be half-grown, and will fly away. I've seen them grow before.
The cat had also seen birds nest before. He had been watching this particular one from the beginning. But he had known Roci was watching it too, for a different reason than the cat, and had left it alone. There were many other birds out in the world; he did not need the caged boy's.
You don't have a family, stated Roci. No, confirmed the cat.
I don't, said Roci. I have guardians. Niti's a guardian, and she said don't get used to it. She could disappear any day now because only old people get to be guardians, and old people die. And anyway I will definitely be taken away when I am ten. I don't know how old I am and Niti doesn't know either, but she says I still have more years.
She says her only jobs is to feed me, clean me and get me ready for the harsh, harsh world. She says that's why she beats me, and the guards surely beat people much worse. I know-I hear them from the factory. Even grown people scream when the guards beat them.
Niti used to have a family, when she was a little girl before the Bomb. But she said there's no point wanting for what you just can't have. She said look at Bradley, the owner's son. The owner hits Bradley and makes him cry-and
is that what I want? I don't know. The owner takes Bradley places too, and they come back happy and laughing. I don't know.
I have a family-they are in my head. I have older brothers who help me against the big boys. I have a Mama and a Papa. I don't know if they beat me. I don't want them to, but should they?
The cat opined that since Roci's Mama and Papa were in his head, if he didn't want them to beat him they shouldn't have to. Roci thought that made good sense.
Coryans used to have families, said Roci. Niti had one.
* * *
REMEMBER, SAID PAPA, REMEMBER HARD
It was the smell of frying pancakes that woke Niti that morning. It was an energizing smell to Niti, and she was bright-eyed when she entered her Mama's kitchen a quarter of an hour later. A few minutes later, a large stack of cakes was on her plate. Niti's family lived on a berry farm, where her parents worked. The workers were given a bountiful berry allowance, and Mama had cooked the berries right into the cakes, and was pouring her award-winning syrup all over Niti's stack. Niti was big for a Coryan girl. She ate well and finished her stack in a few minutes.
"Where's my backpack?" she said to Mama.
"You're not going to school today," said Mama.
"Why not?"
"We're waiting for something," said Mama, "and we're going to wait here-together. Come, let's sit on the couch."
"Can we watch television?"
"No, we're not going to watch television."
Niti sat on the couch next to Mama. She was surprised when Mama suddenly wrapped both her arms around Niti and squeezed her towards her.
Niti and Mama sat close and silent until Papa entered with Niti's baby brother. Papa fed the baby, then came with him to the couch and sat down right next to Niti.
"Why are we just sitting?" asked Niti of Papa. Papa sighed.
"Our Coryan leaders must make a great and frightening decision," said Papa. "We will wait for it here, together."
"What must they decide?"
"Do you know what freedom is, Niti?"
"No."
"Freedom means if I want to leave the berry farm and work in the jam factory, I probably can. If I want to try the city, I can. I control my own self and my own life; what I do and a lot of what happens to me. And so do you."
Papa's voice broke. "The Coryan leaders must now choose between life, with no freedom; or all of us being no more."
"No more?"
"Being gone. All of us. Forever."
"Where would we go?"
"I mean we would stop. Our lives would stop, all of them. They would all be ended."
"How?" asked Niti, breathlessly.
"There has been a Great Threat. A people on Urtthri have the power to end our world. They have shown their great power to our leaders. The leaders told us, and asked what do we want?"
Papa sighed. "I said I would choose life. Your Mama said differently. We are waiting to know what the leaders will choose."
Niti sat silent, absorbing the news.
Mama said, "Niti, if you go on, but not free, remember that you will always control one thing." Mama tapped Niti on the head. "This," said Mama. "You will always control this-what's in here."
"And we want you to put one thing in there right now," said Papa. "We want you to put in it that we love you. We want you to lock it up and keep it for as long as you live. Will you do that right now?"
"Yes," said Niti. She felt like crying.
"Remember," said Papa. "Remember hard." Niti nodded, and leaned hard into Papa's side. She accidentally leaned against her brother's foot as well. The baby squawked.
Sixty-two years later, Niti lay on her cot, her eyes wide open. "I can't remember," she whispered. "I can't remember my baby brother's name."
* * *
AN UGLY NIGHT
The lights were out in the children's barracks, and had been for three hours, now. The cat was hunting in an alley between the electric fence and the working slaves' barracks. He had seen a rat, or thought he had. He knew he had seen motion-a shadow moving quickly across the dirt near the barracks wall. Now the cat was crouched down, facing the wall; his chest brushing the dirt, his rear a little higher than his shoulders and his tail a-twitch.
A door, not a rat, squeaked. The cat lay down flatter upon the dirt, his eyes and his pupils wide and his ears pricked. A few heartbeats later, he craned his neck around and looked over his right shoulder. A guard was moving towards the east entrance to the children's field. The cat followed the guard with his head; as the guard entered the field, crossed the field and entered the children's barracks.
A few more heartbeats and suddenly a feeling of dread overcame the cat. He did not know what it was; in all his years he had never experienced such a sudden and dark inner void. It brought him to his feet, and he began to pace in tentative and then semi-frantic circles, whining quietly.
Suddenly, the cat jumped into a run. He ran to and up his tree and across the overhanging branch. He leapt from the branch without any slowing of speed, and landed farther into the field than ever before.
Now the cat paused. He had never before approached the barracks. He paced a few more circles in hesitation, and then suddenly broke again into a run. He charged the barracks wall, then began to pace along it near the door the guard had entered.
The cat knew when the guard began his approach to his exit. The cat posed himself and waited; his chest brushing the dirt, his rear slightly higher than his shoulders and his tail a-twitch. When the guard's feet passed over the threshold of the door, the cat raked one set of claws swiftly and deep into the back of the guard's right leg, then raced off along the barracks wall towards the mountains.
The cat waited for Roci in the tall grass nearest the mountains. Roci did not come out after breakfast. He could not be seen running and playing with the other children. He did not come out after lunch. The dinner horn blew, and the children stopped playing and went into the barracks.
Roci came out after dinner. He walked hesitantly across the field, looking this way and that. He pushed himself into the middle of the band of grass, so that there was grass all around him when he stopped.
The cat thought Roci looked like one of the ghost boys the cat would see at times in the moonlight. The paleness, the deadness-the cat looked for the light in Roci's eyes, the sun shining through his face; and felt a churning inside as his searching found only blankness.
But the cat was a cat, and his face was settled and calm as he asked, What happened?
Ugly came last night, answered Roci. The words were spoken very faintly, but the cat was good at hearing what he must.
Is the guard Ugly?
Yes.
Roci was speaking so very faintly. The cat was listening very carefully, hoping to understand why his boy felt so bleak.
Is he very ugly, then?
Yes.
The cat saw the lights turn out in the barracks.
Will you get in trouble if you are not back for bedtime?
No; Niti was very nice to me today. She knows I didn't want to do anything today; and she didn't make me. She brought me extra food, but I couldn't eat it. Roci suddenly began to cry. The cat, still, could not know why. As a cat he had fought, and he had killed; but he knew nothing of the particular violence that had poisoned his boy.
But he had a child sick with grief, and he had to try to help without understanding. The cat leaned into the boy, who leaned back into him. They sat together as the moon came up and the chill came down; the cat warming the boy with his stronger inner furnace, and his concern.
Roci had one strong thought he had to finally share with the cat. The cat felt the sinking fear as Roci shared his thought, but listened without perceptible reaction.
Tobi, said Roci, says he's going to kill Ugly. He says he's going to bash his head in. Niti gets very scared when Tobi says that. She says he mustn't; that horrible things will happen to us all if he
does. She says the guards own us; and that's why they can do whatever they want, and we can do nothing about it. She says if we owned ourselves we could fight, but they own us, so we can't.
Muri says it's not right-he says we should own ourselves. He says every person should own his own self. It used to be like that, but we can't get us back, because we can't fight. If we fight, we will lose us forever . . .
* * *
WHY THEY WILL LOSE THEM FOREVER
The window was wide, offering a panoramic view of the space behind it. The Coryan leaders stood in a line before the large window.
The Borrynzians had pointed out a planet, out deep in the space behind the large window. The planet looked small, but the Borrynzians said it was of a similar size to Cory.
"Fire," said the Borrynzian captain, quietly. The gunner pushed the button initiating the firing sequence.
The Coryans saw a bright white light shoot out into the void. The light disappeared. For a few seconds, the Coryans saw only the smooth, small-looking planet; and the stationary stars.