Threshold

Henry stood next to Pierce, shoulder to shoulder. They watched the floating arena through the blue haze of their blast shield, the warbling buzz of the force field brimming with energy.

The two teams sped from object to object, green and blue beams arcing away from their lasguns. Angry light scars held for a few moments before dissipating, but when Henry blinked, he thought he saw the ghost of the light still haunting the line it had cut.

“We got crushed out there,” Henry said.

Pierce grunted. His blonde curls bobbed on his head, and the part in the middle was still there. Had he combed it somehow? The bastard wasn’t even sweating. Henry halfway expected him to shake his thumb and pinky and say, ‘Surf’s up, bro!’

Instead, Pierce turned an intense gaze on him. “We got crushed because you’re predictable.”

Henry looked straight ahead and watched as the woman on the Green team made a perfect zero-g transition off an obstacle. For a horrifying moment, Henry thought he was watching Garcia flying around the arena, twisting and bounding and redirecting herself, until she disappeared behind some floating detritus. Flashes of light chased after her.

“I’m not predictable, you just wouldn’t come with me. Faster to the ball, faster we score it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Pierce shaking his head.

“How am I wrong? Gotta score the ball. That’s the point of the game.”

As if to accentuate his point, the gleaming metal ball came into view, headed straight for the Blue team’s gate. It was thrown from a great distance at high speed. That was a risky move, and a Blue team player collided with it before it hit the gate.

“Shouldn’t have thrown it there,” Pierce said. “Should’ve maintained ball control. After hitting a tag then move in for the kill.”

Henry grunted his assent. He was right. That wasn’t how he would’ve played it with his previous partner, but he was right.

Pierce watched with a hand cupping his chin, brow furrowed. “Yes, Blue has them now. Green’s initial strategy wasn’t executed properly, even though they countered Blue. Now they are… yup.”

The dinging of the ball clearing the gate erupted through the arena. That put Blue two to zero against Green. One more round and they win the match.

The station made a lurching motion as the outer chassis of the dome spun around the arena, repositioning Green and Blue’s gates, still opposite of each other but now in different relative places to the floating islands.

Henry always hated the stomach lurching feeling. A new ball slotted at the new top side of the dome. Through the glass of the dome was the vast expanse of open space, twinkling stars in the infinite distance.

Bots twirled about, camera lights bright as they captured every movement, every flash of the lasgun.

Pierce sighed next to him. “I’m sorry. It’s not that you’re ‘predictable’. It’s just you’re you. Everyone knows you’re good at Rush. Hell, man, you basically built the strategy.”

Henry gave a slight nod. His mind trailed to when the game was fresh, when everyone was testing and trying new things. And there he was, first to the ball, first to score. Zero-g movements were difficult, but for Henry…

“The game’s different now though. You can’t just Rush every time. They’ve adapted. And I’m sorry, I’m no Garcia. I can’t keep up with you like she could.”

Hearing the name hurt. Thinking of the time flying with her, and winning, hurt. “Don’t,” Henry sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t say her name.”

Pierce physically recoiled but recovered quickly. “Of course, sorry man.”

Green and Blue were at it again. The gates blasted open, sucking the two players into the arena. Now that their position rotated higher, they had an excellent view into the arena. The Green team Anchored, an incredibly defensive position. Henry could hardly control himself from scoffing. Where was the beauty in it? Where was the movement? The skill. Then the Blue team came bursting into view. They already had the ball and were expertly tossing it back and forth as they zig zagged across the arena.

There it was. The fast movements, the precision. Shots were fired at the two moving figures, but they were moving too fast, bits of rubble and debris providing the cover they needed as they maneuvered closer and closer.

Shots hit hard against the Green team, scoring a full disable on one player and a half disable on the other. It was enough. The ball was in, and it had only been a minute from the start of the match.

Henry raised a fist and let out a whoop. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Did you see their coordination?”

Pierce nodded sagely. “Anchoring is terrible against Rush. Blue read them like a book.”

Henry turned a cross eye on Pierce. “Read them? Outplayed them.” But even as Henry was saying it, he knew Pierce was right. Blue hadn’t used rush at all the past two rounds. Now that it was over, it seemed obvious that they would, but Green had been pounded, forced into a reactive mindset, off balance. They needed a moment to resettle and regroup, and Blue knew that.

“Okay, alright, Pierce. Read them. They flew incredible though.”

Pierce appraised him then. “We’re up next, Henry. I have a plan.”

Henry bristled. “Alright.”

“We start with Anchor.”

“No, absolutely not. Can’t stand it.”

“Right, that’s exactly it. They expect you to Rush. They’ll be running Suppress. Anchor beats Suppress nearly every time.”

Henry closed his eyes against the lurching of the great station. It whirled them around, repositioning them against their next team, White.

“Alright,” Henry said when it was done.

“It really wou- wait, alright?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Well… perfect.”

Henry thought for a moment then said, “And for round two, they’ll expect us to run Anchor again, so they’ll run Rush? So, we run Suppress then?”

Pierce crossed his arms and let himself float slowly off the platform as the zero-g turned on in their room. “Not exactly… They might expect that and run their own Anchor to defeat our Suppress. So, we’ll actually run Rush.”

Henry felt a jolt of excitement as the make-ready timer started over their blast door. “What happens if they actually run Rush anyway?”

Pierce patted Henry on the back, the motion setting him spinning. “You’re Henry, you invented Rush. If anyone can win the mirror match, it’s you.”

Henry felt his smile reach his eyes. The countdown started. 10, 9, 8…