Huperum

The sky shone brilliant blue, as the sun Orionis peeked from behind a patch of light silver-gray clouds. Keef Terrason shaded his eyes, glad the weather had returned to normal. The main climate control station was finally up. He had been worried during the rainstorm the night before, but NESI had things back in control after working all night to repair Santuria’s terrawatt power depot. The turnout for the academy’s annual octathlon reflected the change in weather. The stadium was packed.

Keef put all that out of his mind, as he stepped into the discus pit. The crowd slowly quieted as he prepared for his third and final toss. Pendar Santal Loriat had bested the field with his last throw, solidifying his lead. Keef’s heart raced as he tried to calm himself.

Taking a deep breath, he stretched his lean body to its full height of nearly two meters, gently balancing the raised discus above him in his two hands. His dark hazel eyes focused, as he concentrated on keeping his body under control, intent on releasing the discus at the moment of peak acceleration and power. He started. Dipping his shoulder and fully extending the discus, he rapidly whirled through two revolutions, generating maximum momentum. When he released the discus he knew it was his best ever. He quickly looked at the judge to verify he had not fouled. The shouts of the crowd greeted him, as he was grabbed and hugged by his best friend and fellow Pearthian, Giles Johansen.

"Great throw, Keef. I knew you could do it!"

"Eighty-seven point thirteen meters, a new octathlon record!" came over the address system.

Giles grinned widely. "Wow! Did you hear that? You broke Jarrard’s record! You got the full 1000 points! You’ve still got a chance to catch Pendar!"

"Hope so," said Keef, catching his breath and Giles’ enthusiasm, "I’d give anything to whip him!"

"You and me both. Just because his ancestor was Pendar the Great, and his father the Akasian champion, the jerk thinks the rest of us should lay down for him."

"He might think so," rasped Keef, "but I’ll be dashed if I will!"

"That’s the spirit. If anyone can take him, it’s you. It would be something to see you win the commission to the Huperial guard—all of Pearthia would be proud."

"Don’t forget, you’re in this too."

Giles laughed. "Get serious! I was out of it after the obstacle course."

Keef gazed up at the stadium scoreboard. "There’s still a chance you can grab third." With six of the eight events completed, it showed him in second place, 330 points behind Pendar. It also indicated Pendar was on a record pace, even though he had come in second in the discus toss. With firsts in two marksmanship events: laser firing and archery, and another in the 80 meters dash; it’s no wonder, he thought. He studied his own results. The discus toss was his only first with several close seconds and thirds in the other events. Far behind him came Lopus Tennamak, winner of the obstacle race. Giles was next, barely ahead of the remaining four contestants.

He turned back to Giles. "You only need to make up about 500 points, my friend."

"Not with the 8000 left. That’s your specialty, not mine," said Giles.

Keef wiped some moisture from his brow. "We’ve still got the amsen carry. Anything can happen in that."

Giles nodded towards Pendar, who stood surrounded by a group of Akasian teammates, acting as pompous as ever. "Don’t worry about me, focus on him."

Keef looked at his rival, noting the powerful, yet graceful body. He moved like a cat; still nobody was unbeatable. With some help in the amsen carry, he still had a chance. He turned and made his way with Giles over to the amsen venue directly beneath the Huperial box.

***

Pendar did not pay attention to the entourage milling about him. His eyes were locked on Keef Terrason’s retreating back. He muttered a curse. No way would he let that smock-faced Pearthian win. What would his father think?

"Your destiny, my son, is to rule. You come from a long line of champions, the direct descendant of three Hupers. Akasia has dominated, and will continue to dominate this planet and Huperum. Never forget that!" His father had said more than once.

From his earliest memories, Pendar had set his sights on the pinnacle of power. Fully aware he was expected to win—and win he did. He would do anything to gain his father’s approval—so rarely meted out. Under his father’s rigorous tutelage, Pendar mastered the martial and mental disciplines needed to carry on his family’s tradition. His father would tolerate no less.

Romar Weyr, the only other Pearthian competitor in the meet patted him on the back. "It’s time for the Amsen, Pendar. Let’s head over there and get ready."

Pendar shook himself out of his reverie and nodded. "Sure. Lead the way."

***

Keef swung his arms in a windmill then squatted alongside Giles to continue his warm-ups. "I see Huper Crosander’s box is empty. He must be worse off than we thought."

"I heard one of the field judges saying he’s suffered a relapse," said Giles, looking up. "I doubt he has long to live."

Keef shook his head. "I can’t imagine life without him."

"You and everyone else on Novus. He’s ruled for almost forty-seven years."

"I’m surprised they didn’t announce it."

"Me too, maybe I heard wrong," said Giles, then stretched each leg in turn above his head.

Just then Pendar and Romar sauntered by and stopped about ten meters away. Keef tried to ignore them until he heard Pendar loudly exclaim, "Don’t worry, the poot doesn’t stand a chance. I’ll crush him like a limp-along beetle."

Keef bristled at the term for a Pearthian outland operations tech now used derogatorily by many Akasians but managed to retain his composure.

Giles glanced at Pendar with disgust, then muttered beneath his breath, "Don’t listen to him, Keef. He’s just trying to psyche you out and pump himself up at the same time."

Romar carried on. "I have no doubt. They’re all cowards. I’m sure Terrason will choke just like every other poot fickler before him."

Keef’ seethed, fighting to control his anger.

Giles grabbed Keef’s arm. "Don’t worry. Romar’s just jealous you took his place as the school’s top distance man." He raised his voice. "They’re just puffed up toads with vacuum for brains! You can beat them, Keef. They’ve just been lucky so far."

Pendar’s jerked his gaze toward them, the veins on his neck rigid. "Lucky! I make my own blasted luck! No stinking poot on this planet will ever get the best of me, anytime or place!" Not waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and strutted off, with Romar scrambling to catch up.

Keef let out a low whistle. "The fracking blowhard. I’d give a year’s free service just to see their faces when I win that commission."

"Amen to that!" said Giles.

"Ever since we’ve been here, Pendar and his Ak cohorts have had things their own way," said Keef. "It’s about time they start finding out we Pearthians have got more going for us than brains."

***

Jeran Magomba of Elmadia went first, toting the amsen to the start line. Keef watched as Jeran began well, but fifteen meters from the finish, he lost control of the five-meter long pole, and trying to regain his balance, stumbled and fell. Jeran was up in an instant, but his time was a disaster.

Please, God, don’t let that happen to me, Keef thought, as he retrieved the amsen from a dejected Jeran.

"Sure butchered that," said Jeran. "Oh well, good luck to you, Keef. Watch out for the rock I tripped over at the end of the course."

"Thanks. I’ll try my best." Keef smiled. The only rock was Jeran’s clumsiness.

Giles came up to Keef and patted him on the back. "You’ll be fine. Just stay focused. Make this your best run ever, just like you did in the discus."

"All right. Wish me luck."

"Just did, you dolt."

Keef chuckled, feeling the tension leave him. He brushed back his thick sandy hair and hefted the huge amsen over his shoulder, and carried it to the start. The starter waited for him to come set—as Keef balanced the 75 kilo weight of the one meter diameter amsen in the cup of his hands—letting the huge pole rest against his right breast. He nodded to the starter. He was ready. He focused on the signal at the end of the course. When it flashed, Keef bolted from the line. It was a good start. He was able to shift the weight of the heavy pole in front of him into an almost perpetual falling motion. Keef ran to keep up with the momentum of the amsen, controlling it so he could keep a straight line to the end of the course. Keef scampered at high speed in good balance as the finish line appeared before him. At that instant, he began losing control, and felt the amsen begin to wobble. He stumbled just as he hit the tape, and falling forward threw the amsen before him, as it landed with a thud. Keef looked up and saw 11.26 on the scoreboard. It was a good time. Hopefully, it would be good enough. He was thankful his problems on the course came at the finish. Maybe there was a rock.

Shouts of anger diverted Keef’s attention. Pendar was yelling at the finish judges. "His time is no good! He didn’t have the amsen when he crossed the finish! I protest! His time should be disqualified!"

The two judges, looking confused like students receiving a last minute homework assignment, began conferring together. After several minutes one spoke to Pendar and a small group of other officials and contestants gathered close by. "Terrason’s run looked good, but since there is a protest we’ll have to wait for the replay to make our final judgment after all the runs are through. But for now, his time stands."

After discovering what the hubbub was about, Keef became dismayed. He was certain he had the amsen when he crossed the line. But now he was going to have to sweat it out until the officials reviewed the replay. Giles, who’d been among the group surrounding the officials, came over to him. "Don’t worry Keef, it was a good run. You were way past the finish when you lost the amsen. Pendar’s just trying to throw his weight around and make a fuss, hoping he can influence the judges somehow. He knows it’s going to be tough to beat your time."

"Hope so," Keef replied, tentatively.

Giles stood with Keef as they watched the next four contestants make their runs. The best time was 11.95, with several of them dropping the amsen on the course, including Romar.

Keef watched anxiously as Pendar prepared for his run. "Oh Lord, make him fall," Keef muttered under his breath.

With a nod to the starter, Pendar indicated he was ready. When the light changed, Keef watched with dismay as Pendar flew down the course under perfect balance. His hopes were dashed as Pendar crossed the line, and a time of 11.18 flashed on the board. Pendar tossed the amsen to the ground with an exultant, "Yes!"

"Blast!" Giles grumbled to Keef, just before he ambled over to the finish area to retrieve the amsen for his own run.

Keef’s heart sank. His chances looked nil. He’d lost ground not gained it. With a lead of 395 points Pendar was beyond reach. "Well, at least it’s his last win," retorted Keef. "I’m going to bury him in the 8000."

"Don’t forget about Romar," said Giles.

"I won’t," said Keef, his face serious. There was still the decision to be made concerning his carry, but he was no longer worried about it. It didn’t surprise him when several minutes later they broadcast his time in the amsen carry as second behind Pendar’s. At the announcement, he glanced at Pendar to see his reaction. It didn’t seem to bother him or the smug expression on his face. Keef would give anything to wipe it off.

At the distance course’s starting line, everyone was quiet. They were too tired; besides there was nothing left to say. All Pendar had to do was finish and he would win the Huperial guard commission.

Keef drew the inside lane with Pendar on his far right. With the flash of the starting light, Keef sprinted alongside the others to establish his position in the pack, and then settled into an easy and measured stride. He would let someone else set the early pace. He was surprised to see Pendar dash into the lead. Pendar never competed in the distance events on the team, and Keef was certain the Akasian didn’t have the staying power to carry his pace very far. They had a long way to go. Confident he would be able to take charge of the race at the end of the course, but to guard against any misjudgments, he decided he’d better not let the Akasian get too far in front. He moved out ahead of the pack to match Pendar’s pace. As he picked up his stride, he heard Giles yell behind him, "Take him, Keef!"

At the halfway mark, Keef was surprised that Pendar was still way ahead and going strong. Where’s he getting his energy? he thought, determined on closing the gap. Focusing on the back of the Akasian’s fluttering jersey up ahead, Keef didn’t bother looking back, certain everyone else was far behind. It was just he and Pendar. He had to win this race. He could not bear a double defeat. Stride by stride, meter by meter, he pushed his wiry frame to stay on Pendar’s heels. When is he going to slow down? Keef wondered, not for the last time.