“You handled the Enge show nicely,” Pierce Spencer tells Ida Moulay. He flips off his videoscope and pops out the tape. “I liked it. It fostered just the right degree of controversy. We’ll have every set in the country tuned in on Sunday. Mann reacted exactly as I thought he would.” He returns the tape to a round fist-sized storage box. “How long did it take you to teach Matision his lines?”

Ida smiles guilefully. “Not long at all. I didn’t have to. I sat in the control booth myself and fed them to him personally. I thought we might as well get some extra mileage out of that implanted receiver in his head. We certainly spent enough money putting it there.”

Spencer regards her with approval. “That’s the way to take charge, Ida.”

She flushes. It’s nothing less than Spencer’s highest accolade. “Tell me,” she asks, “who’s going to win? Mann or Matision?”

“I don’t know,” he answers soberly. “I haven’t decided. If only I could come up with some way whereby they would both win. Not a tie, I don’t mean that. What I mean is a clear-cut victory for both. It would be a natural for a rematch in the Killerbowl. Perhaps Mann wins the game, but Matision… Matision what?” Then it comes to him. “Of course. Ida, get me the media file on that Prospector player. Mann’s friend. What’s his name? Eddie Hougart.”

7

KILLERBOWL XXI, THE GAME

Saturday, January 1, 2011, 4:45 A.M.

Shadows that metamorphose into hulking linemen, a noise off behind, footsteps in the blackness, everyplace to hide, the terror of blindness, the chill of obscurity, this is the night shroud of football.

The Minutemen’s game has been falling steadily apart ever since they scored their second touchdown. They’re having trouble putting everything together the way they did earlier. They aren’t able to rack up yardage, to inflict injuries, or to lose their pursuit. The game went too easily for them in the opening minutes. They became overconfident.

The Prospectors, on the other hand, have come alive thanks to a stiffening run of good luck. Dedemus and DeGeller both came back into the game after missing only two plays. D’Armato sliced a Minutemen ball carrier’s knee ligament, putting him permanently out of the game and giving the Prospectors a one man edge.

T.K. has used the imbalance to good advantage. On almost every play he sends his extra man downfield. If the Minutemen pull a man out of the line to cover, T.K. scrambles on the ground. If they don’t cover, if they blitz, he passes.

The technique has worked consistently well, so well that the Prospectors are within sixty five yards of the Minutemen’s goalyard. They have three downs in which to make it.