Read Online Away Games: Science Fiction Sports Stories by Mike Resnick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Mike Resnick
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pretty—”
“Enough,” said Mallory.
“You never let me have any fun,” pouted Felina.
“Our definitions of ‘fun’ vary considerably,” said Mallory. He shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose I’d better get to work.” He stared at her. “I don’t suppose I can leave you here and expect you to stay out of trouble?”
She grinned happily. “Of course you can, John Justin,” she replied, her pupils becoming mere vertical slits.
Mallory sighed. “I didn’t think so. All right, come on.”
She jumped lightly to the ground and fell into step behind him, leaping over any concrete squares that bore the contractor’s insignia. They walked around the track and soon reached the backstretch, more than half a mile from where they had started.
Mallory’s nose told him where the barns were. The smell of elephants reached him long before he heard the contented gurgling of their stomachs. Finally he reached the stable area, a stretch of huge concrete barns with tall ceilings and a steady flow of goblins and gnomes scurrying to and fro with hay-filled wheelbarrows.
He approached the first of the barns, walked up to a man who seemed quite human, and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes?” said the man, turning to him, and suddenly Mallory became aware of the fact that the man had three eyes.
“Can you tell me where to find Ahmed?”
“You’re in the wrong place, pal. I think he’s a placekicker for the Chicago Fire.”
“He’s an elephant.”
“He is?” said the man, surprised.
Mallory nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re absolutely sure of that?”
Mallory nodded.
The man frowned. “Now why do you suppose the Fire would want an elephant on their team?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” conceded Mallory. He decided to try a different approach. “I’m also looking for the barn where Gengis F. X. Khan stables his racing elephants.”
“Well, friend, you just found it.”
“You work for Khan?”
“Yep.”
“Then how come you don’t know who Ahmed is?”
“Hey, pal, my job is just to keep ’em cleaned and fed. I let the trainer worry about which is which.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jake. But everybody calls me Four-Eyes.”
“Four-Eyes?” repeated Mallory.
The man nodded. “’Cause I wear glasses.”
“Well, I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else in this damned world,” Mallory turned and looked down the shed row. “Where can I find Khan?”
“See that big guy standing by the backstretch rail, with the stopwatch in his hand?” said Four-Eyes, gesturing toward an enormous man clad in brilliantly-colored silks and satins and wearing a purple turban. “That’s him. He’s timing workouts.”
“Shouldn’t he be standing at the finish line?”
“His watch only goes up to 60 seconds, so he times ’em up to the middle of the backstretch, and then his trainer times ’em the rest of the way home.”
“Seems like a lot of wasted effort to me,” said Mallory.
“Yeah? Why?”
“Because each time the second hand passes 60, he just has to add a minute to the final time.”
All three of Four-Eyes’ eyes opened wide in amazement. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed. “I never thought of that!”
“Apparently no one else did, either,” said Mallory caustically.
“Look, buddy,” said Four-Eyes defensively, “math ain’t my specialty. You wanna talk elephant shit, I can talk it with the best of ’em.”
“No offense intended,” said Mallory. He turned to Felina. “Let’s go,” he said, leading her toward the backstretch rail. Once there, he waited until Khan had finished timing one of his elephants, and then tapped the huge man on the shoulder.
“Yes?” demanded Khan, turning to him. “What do you want?”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Mallory. “But I wonder if you’d mind answering some questions.”
“I keep telling you reporters, Jackie Onassis and I are just good friends.”
Mallory smiled. “Not that kind of question.”
“Oh?” said Khan,
“Enough,” said Mallory.
“You never let me have any fun,” pouted Felina.
“Our definitions of ‘fun’ vary considerably,” said Mallory. He shrugged. “Oh, well, I suppose I’d better get to work.” He stared at her. “I don’t suppose I can leave you here and expect you to stay out of trouble?”
She grinned happily. “Of course you can, John Justin,” she replied, her pupils becoming mere vertical slits.
Mallory sighed. “I didn’t think so. All right, come on.”
She jumped lightly to the ground and fell into step behind him, leaping over any concrete squares that bore the contractor’s insignia. They walked around the track and soon reached the backstretch, more than half a mile from where they had started.
Mallory’s nose told him where the barns were. The smell of elephants reached him long before he heard the contented gurgling of their stomachs. Finally he reached the stable area, a stretch of huge concrete barns with tall ceilings and a steady flow of goblins and gnomes scurrying to and fro with hay-filled wheelbarrows.
He approached the first of the barns, walked up to a man who seemed quite human, and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Yes?” said the man, turning to him, and suddenly Mallory became aware of the fact that the man had three eyes.
“Can you tell me where to find Ahmed?”
“You’re in the wrong place, pal. I think he’s a placekicker for the Chicago Fire.”
“He’s an elephant.”
“He is?” said the man, surprised.
Mallory nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re absolutely sure of that?”
Mallory nodded.
The man frowned. “Now why do you suppose the Fire would want an elephant on their team?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” conceded Mallory. He decided to try a different approach. “I’m also looking for the barn where Gengis F. X. Khan stables his racing elephants.”
“Well, friend, you just found it.”
“You work for Khan?”
“Yep.”
“Then how come you don’t know who Ahmed is?”
“Hey, pal, my job is just to keep ’em cleaned and fed. I let the trainer worry about which is which.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jake. But everybody calls me Four-Eyes.”
“Four-Eyes?” repeated Mallory.
The man nodded. “’Cause I wear glasses.”
“Well, I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else in this damned world,” Mallory turned and looked down the shed row. “Where can I find Khan?”
“See that big guy standing by the backstretch rail, with the stopwatch in his hand?” said Four-Eyes, gesturing toward an enormous man clad in brilliantly-colored silks and satins and wearing a purple turban. “That’s him. He’s timing workouts.”
“Shouldn’t he be standing at the finish line?”
“His watch only goes up to 60 seconds, so he times ’em up to the middle of the backstretch, and then his trainer times ’em the rest of the way home.”
“Seems like a lot of wasted effort to me,” said Mallory.
“Yeah? Why?”
“Because each time the second hand passes 60, he just has to add a minute to the final time.”
All three of Four-Eyes’ eyes opened wide in amazement. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed. “I never thought of that!”
“Apparently no one else did, either,” said Mallory caustically.
“Look, buddy,” said Four-Eyes defensively, “math ain’t my specialty. You wanna talk elephant shit, I can talk it with the best of ’em.”
“No offense intended,” said Mallory. He turned to Felina. “Let’s go,” he said, leading her toward the backstretch rail. Once there, he waited until Khan had finished timing one of his elephants, and then tapped the huge man on the shoulder.
“Yes?” demanded Khan, turning to him. “What do you want?”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Mallory. “But I wonder if you’d mind answering some questions.”
“I keep telling you reporters, Jackie Onassis and I are just good friends.”
Mallory smiled. “Not that kind of question.”
“Oh?” said Khan,
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