A Song for Lya and Other Stories by George R. R. Martin

Author:George R. R. Martin [Martin, George R. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780380005215
Amazon: 1930235119
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 1976-02-14T13:00:00+00:00

During the two weeks that followed, De Angelis met with the Blastoff Inn coach regularly to discuss plans and strategy, and supervised a few practice sessions. Hill, meanwhile, was fighting desperately to keep his job, and jotting down ideas on how to beat the Brish’diri during every spare moment.

Untouched by the furor, the Kosg-Anjehn won its sixth game handily, 40-7, and then rolled to devastating victories over the circuit’s two cellar-dwellers. The margins were 73-0 and 62-7. That gave them an unblemished 8-0 ledger with one game left to play.

But the Blastoff Inn team was also winning regularly, although never as decisively. It too would enter the last game of the season undefeated.

The local paper heralded the showdown with a sports page streamer on the day before the game. The lead opened, “The stakes will be high for the entire human race tomorrow at Municipal Stadium, when Blastoff Inn meets the Brish’diri Baldy Eagles for the championship of the Department of Recreation City Football League.”

The reporter who wrote the story never dreamed how close to the truth he actually was.

The crowds returned to the Stadium for the championship game, although they fell far short of a packed house. The local paper was there too. But the 3V networks and the newsfax wires were long gone. The novelty of the story had worn off quickly.

Hill arrived late, just before game time, and joined Tomkins on the 50-yard line. The E.T. agent seemed to have cheered up somewhat. “Our guys looked pretty good during the warm-up,” he told the director. “I think we’ve got a chance.”

His enthusiasm was not catching, however. “Blastoff Inn might have a chance, but I sure don’t,” Hill said glumly. “The city council is meeting tonight to consider a motion calling for my dismissal. I have a strong suspicion that it’s going to pass, no matter who wins this afternoon.”

“Hmmmmm,” said Tomkins, for want of anything better to say. “Just ignore the old fools. Look, the game’s starting.”

Hill muttered something under his breath and turned his attention back to the field. The Brish’diri had lost the toss once more, and the kickoff had once again soared out of the stadium. It was first-and-ten for the Blastoff Inn on its own twenty.

And at that point the script suddenly changed.

The humans lined up for their first play of the game but with a difference. Instead of playing immediately in back of the center, the Blastoff quarterback was several yards deep, in a shotgun formation.

The idea, Hill recalled, was to take maximum advantage of human speed, and mount a strong passing offense. Running against the Brish’diri was all but impossible, he and De Angelis had concluded after careful consideration. That meant an aerial attack, and the only way to provide that was to give the Blastoff quarterback time to pass. Ergo, the shotgun formation.

The hike from center was dead on target and the Blastoff receivers shot off downfield, easily outpacing the ponderous Brish’diri defensemen. As usual, the Kosg-Anjehn crashed through the

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