Read Online The Starter by Scott Sigler - Free Book Online

step up to him was to get shredded. Most of the time, however, Quentin avoided fights because he learned to identify dangerous people and stay out of their way. The mines taught him that all the toughness in the galaxy is no armor against a knife in the back.
    And the Purist Nation had a lot of knives.
    Quentin lived through a decade in the mines, from five years old until he joined the Micovi Raiders football team at fifteen; stayed alive because he knew how to read people. Read bad people. And that linebacker-looking Human and his two blockers? They looked bad.
    “Yitzhak,” Quentin said. “Let me hold your trophy for a second.”
    “No way,” Yitzhak said. “Know why? Because you’re not the MVP, Q. Sure, you’re the franchise and all that, but ol’ Yitzhak is the —”
    Quentin stood and reached to his left. His eyes stayed on the three Humans, but his backhanded sweep plucked the crystal MVP trophy right out of Yitzhak’s clutches.
    “Hey,” Yitzhak said, a hint of a whine coloring his voice. “Come on, give it back.”
    Quentin just shook his head. The three Humans pressed toward the barrier, to the line of Quyth Warrior police. Quentin saw that the men would reach the barriers just about the time Gredok’s train car passed their position.
    A hand on Quentin’s right shoulder. “Q, what is it?” Don Pine again, but no humor in his voice this time. Quentin just nodded toward the men.
    Don looked, taking it in for a second. “They trouble?”
    “Is who trouble?” Yitzhak said. “And can I have my trophy back, please?”
    The two big Humans leaned forward and threw Quyth Workers out of the way, picking them up and tossing them aside. Orange- and black-clad bodies flew, some shoved away, some pushed down, some diving for cover. The closest cops — one Quyth Warrior, one Ki — turned to address the surging threat. Quentin took it all in, every detail, his brain suddenly as hyper-alert as it sometimes got on the field during games.
    The cops did everything right. They brandished shock batons, shouted warnings, moved to the barrier to use it as a partial shield. They did everything right to handle the two blockers , but they weren’t ready for the third man.
    The two big Humans jumped on the barrier and dove at the cops, catching stun batons full in the chest. Both Humans shook from the electrical charge, but their momentum carried them over the barriers and into the cops, pushing the cops back just enough to create a seam. The first Human squeezed through, hurdling the barrier like a running back jumping over a fallen lineman.
    Quentin stared, timing the man’s run. His left hand held the crystal football, his right the chrome stand connected to the base. A quick bend and the chrome post snapped clean.
    “You jerk !” Yitzhak screamed. “What did you do that for?”
    Quentin ignored his teammate. He dropped the wooden base, then held the MVP trophy up to his left ear, just like he’d hold a real football. He timed the man’s movements, twisted his shoulders, and threw.
    BLINK
    Time slowed to nothing, an almost still-frame rendition of life. He saw that crystal football ripping twenty yards through the air, the tight spiral kicking off a rapid-fire sparkle of rainbow flashes. He saw the crowd, expressions seemingly frozen; some in joy, some in surprise, some in concern.
    The rainbow-spinning ball hit the man in the forehead, shattering into a sparkling shower of crystal chunks that — for just a second — looked like an exploding daylight firework.
    The man fell to his knees, blood sheeting down his face.
    Doc swooped toward the bleeding man, flying fast, orange and black streamers trailing behind in a nearly straight line.
    The man’s Krakens jacket drifted open. Around his waist, Quentin saw the shiny reflection of plastic wrap, and beneath the wrap, several tubes lined up in neat parallels.
    A suicide bomb.
    In the train car ahead, Virak the Mean looked right, saw the man, then dove over the