The Acolytes of Crane (Theodore Crane, #1)(65)
‘Alright, who is going to be the Guinea pig?’ I asked, hinting that I didn’t want to be that person.
Liam looked at us and shook his head. ‘You guys don’t get it. Either you eat, or you don’t. One option leaves you satisfied and the other leaves you starving. I don’t know about you guys, but I am doing it.’
After Liam was done speaking, he ravaged the food within his reach. He just couldn’t stop. We followed his lead, and for me, I had no regrets.
The roast beast was juicy and savory, and what looked like a prehistoric bird leg, had actually tasted similar to chicken. There were these plant-like long purple stalks, with orange flowerets at the top; they tasted just like peanut butter, which was odd. Everything was cooked to perfection, and it was like an alien smorgasbord of awesomeness. I was satisfied.
Then I noticed that Mariah and Lincoln were talking quietly. They seemed like they were hitting it off, and feasting on each other with swooning eyes.
I was swept away by the atmosphere of the hall, and by the delicacy of the food. My friends were ecstatic. Enjoyment fulfilled —there was no sign of kids feeling torn about abandoning their lives on Earth. No symptoms of regret from a decision of self-exile.
We all worked our way around the room to talk with people. It was as awkward as I thought it could be, given the clash of cultures, languages, and outlooks. I didn’t think it was going to be a quick adjustment for anyone.
Dan ran up to me and said, ‘Okay, so listen here sweetie pie.’ He gave me a new nickname each week. ‘I have a few ideas for our team name. I went with downright simple first, how about B-Team, The Minnesota Loons, or Abominable Hockey Fans?’ I gave Dan a look of disgust for his suggestions, and told him I wanted something fresh and new. ‘Crap, okay, I saved the best ones, just in case you hated those. How about Regulators or Crane’s Five, okay—so you don’t like those either. Well, last shot: the Outsiders.’
‘That is good,’ I said, happy that he finally brought forth a good option, ‘but we don’t need a name.’
‘I guess you are right, dude,’ he said. We looked around, wondering what we were going to do next.
Everyone was mingling well, there were cliques forming faster than gossip itself, but that was to be expected. There was a clique of a few Karshiz and Bromel folk playing a game of Jengitch near the entrance to the Hall, as we had seen earlier. Now, this time, we didn’t want to miss the fun. I grabbed Dan and dragged him over.
‘Excuse the interruption, you think we could jump in and play with you guys? This is Daniel, and my name is Theodore,’ I said, as politely as I could.
The bullying Bromel who had attempted to trip me a few hours earlier was in the group, and he put his hands on his hips to respond. He muttered snarkily, ‘Honest, you think you’re worthy? My pals can beat you with their eyes blindfolded.’ He scoffed.
A Karshiz stepped forward. ‘Don’t mind Drangle here. You’re welcome to join us. Jengitch is a game similar to your hacky-sack on Earth except the object we’re kicking around—a Jengitch—is way more potent than an ordinary hack-sack. A Jengitch ball can think on its own. It has different offensive and defensive moves designed to cause you to be frustrated enough to pull your hair out. It can spray you with water, or sling you up by your feet. You have to use your eye-foot coordination as well as your agility to escape its attacks. Just try to keep it going and watch out for unknown attacks by the object. This game is based on elimination. If you drop the Jengitch, or if you are messed up from its attacks, then you’re out.’
Dan and I walked into the circle. I brought Dan into the equation, because after watching the gameplay, I thought he would be a natural. Drangle, the bully, served up the first Jengitch. It had a rainbow-like trajectory and dropped down near my waist. Acting instinctively, I kicked it up in the air.
Before the ball even made its descent back to our circle, Drangle kicked it with what looked like a kick-boxing move. Once he kicked it, the Jengitch fired tranquilizer darts in all directions, I knew they were tranquilizers, because one kid was hit, and had fallen asleep for the rest of the game.
The bully was doing well and hit it five consecutive times. When someone hits it five times in a row, the Jengitch freezes in front of him alone, and he can grab the Jengitch to make a direct attack on anyone else in the group. Kind of like a pelt in a game of hacky or dodgeball.
Once Drangle grabbed the ball, everyone’s readiness was intensified for the incoming blow. He made his choice, and of course, he threw it at me. The Jengitch zinged past my head, and I thought I was out of danger for now. How wrong I was! As everyone else in the Jengitch group looked on in astonishment, until the ball mechanically clicked behind me, spun rapidly around my torso, and wrapped me in monofilament. Grunting and struggling, my arms were immobile in what appeared to be clear plastic fishing line. Ugh!
The game thundered on. One by one, as Drangle peered on with a mischievous grin, more opponents were kicked out of the game.
Now it was down to Dan, alone against the Bromel bully! While I was watching intently, I used my rolesk to have the Dietons release me from my monofilament. One of the Bromels looked over at me and called me a show-off for daring to use my rolesk.
It was an epic match. The bully and Dan were battling for the win. After an unexpected bounce off the Bromel’s foot, Dan lunged to kick it up with his toe. Dan blazed it toward Drangle, and just before it hit, the Jengitch fired four taser-like devices that zapped the seven-foot tall Bromel, causing him to collapse to the ground. I ran over to Dan, and we exchanged high fives.