Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
Most of the players were either ti'Linn or Kallit-bred humans, relatives of Cion.
Bright yellow hair over dusky green skin. And all of them lean with smoothly
defined muscle, strong and fast, a match to the ti'Linn players. To Rit's eyes, each
of the Kallit had a surprised expression on their face - eyebrows like yellow
dashes from nose to temples and hollow cheeked, with the mouths their only
substantial feature and usually open to a round when they weren't talking. He
had to know them - or look with more than his eyes - before he could distinguish
if they were male or female.
The first play spun up the post to cheers and yells. Many of their people had
managed to make it; at least two dozen watched the players.
Ulanda turned and spoke into his ear. “Come in with me. A pairing, as Rilla had
wanted. I've been told we're well matched. How about my... disability against
yours?”
“I lack one necessary qualification.”
“What?”
“A lack of common sense.” And was sorry the moment he said it. Usually, the
power around her was so great that trying to see past the exterior image was like
looking through a curtain of smoke. With the flirting expression banished to
where ever it had come from, she looked tired. Soft darker skin showed under her
eyes and her mouth had lost all trace of the smile as though she didn't have
sufficient energy to maintain it.
“Common sense has never served me very well.” She crossed her arms and
looked away again. Small lines framed the corners of her mouth.
He was at a loss of what to say. “Perhaps another time. Or one of the games in
the common.” He wasn’t sure she could hear him. Mirwin and Gi'on'ni had taken
postposition for the first play, and after a slow start, the ball had spun off the top
in a blur. The noise was deafening.
The break was towards black, towards Heana and the ni'at tree roots. Mirwin's
play and Gi'on'ni stayed at the post position. Running fast, the boy deliberately
kicked it further into the dangling roots, then grabbed one no thicker than his
wrist in both hands and swung around, Heana in the center of his arc. A rain of
debris fell to the floor, the sound masked by the noise of the crowd. Shriveled
root segments and fragments of tile and a small billowing of dust that settled
before reaching the walls where most of the people were. Tiny lizards scurried
along the floor in all directions, knocked loose from where they were hiding.
Letting go, Mirwin landed with a roll and connected with the ball almost
immediately. And was down the next moment, blocked when Heana came in from
the side. She kicked the ball to the post, managing an almost impossible straight
line, and made a clean goal. Rit let his breath out. The entire play had taken at
most thirty seconds.
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca