Chapter 3
This is such a mess.
“This is such a mess,” Fatimah says, slumping in a chair next to me. “Bring us back a snack, guys,” she says to our other team members as they shuffle away warily.
I flex my sore hands under the table, trying to soothe their paradoxical stiffness. They’re too flexible to handle long days of work like this. In response, my body overcompensates, making them stiff and swollen.
At home, I can take frequent breaks and work on my bots over multiple days.
Here, my hypermobile hands are already being put through the grinder with all the screwing and soldering and tiny pieces.
My metal ring splints that keep my hands steady aren’t safe to wear while working, leaving me without the necessary support.
Not to mention how fucked up my hips and ribs are from this morning’s drive.
Thank god for the bench in the fancy shower.
I can steam away some of the pain and stiffness later.
“Doing okay?” Fatimah asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh and sit up.
She gives me a sympathetic look before glancing around at the other builders.
We’re towards the back of the vast, open space, but still have workstations on every side of us.
Each of the thirty-five teams is its own little kingdom within the four-column grid.
Everywhere we look, there is someone with more experience and, most importantly, mostly assembled robots.
“What’s your read on the team?” she asks.
“Chris and Sonny are nice.”
Her eyes light up at the second name. “Sonny is absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he?
He’s a material science researcher and professor, too.
The brains on that guy. So sexy.” She winks at me before her eyes lose focus, and she bites her painted lip, deep in thought about him.
After a moment, she regains her composure.
“He says the batteries are shit though. They could cause problems.”
I sigh. “Travis seems like a dick, right?” Normally, I would not shit-talk a team member.
However, he’d spent the entire afternoon boasting about working for Joel and how much work he’d put into the robot.
Which, in reality, was none. All in between hitting on Fatimah and asking us questions and responding with the answer before we could respond. He was often wrong.
“Absolutely,” she laughs. “You think Joel will pitch in at all, seeing that he’s team captain?”
“Not one bit.”
She snorts. “Incoming,” she warns and raises her chin to gesture behind me.
“Marlee?” A host and cameraman have snuck up on our table
“Mari,” I correct, turning to them.
“Right. We wanted to do a quick interview with some people about regional robotics clubs. Do you have a minute to chat?”
Do I want to? No. I don’t want to be in front of the cameras. I don’t want to be the center of attention. I want to drive to the best of my abilities, hopefully well enough to get me on a different team next year and get my prize money.
However, this robot is a mess, and the longer we work, the less I’m convinced I’ll be able to drive it in any noteworthy way.
This might be my only opportunity to be seen at Circuit Smack as distinctly separate from ZetaMax.
Something other team owners, and maybe even sponsors, might note for next season.
Also, I’m still hoping I’m wrong, and everything will turn out fine.
“Sure.”
Fatimah lends me her mirror to check my makeup, and besides a small mark on my forehead where it was resting on the table moments ago, I’m still surprisingly put together.
A small win on this day of never-ending trials.
It seems like I left Saint Paul a lifetime ago, but it was only about twelve hours.
My palms sweat as they position me in front of the camera.
“Perfect. Ready?” the host, Celia, asks me.
She is polite and beautiful in the way of most TV hosts.
I bob my head, trying to swallow the bile climbing up my throat.
I’ve given interviews about my bots before, but I’ve never given one that’s going to end up on TV all over the world.
“Great. Okay.” She shakes out her shoulders, glossy hair rippling, and puts on her TV smile.
“I’m here with Mari Williams, the driver of Team Jaxon and their new robot, ZetaMax.
ZetaMax is the newest bot this season in the Circuit Smack arena, but Mari isn’t new to the sport.
Hailing from the Twin Cities area, she’s been fighting for over a decade.
We’re so excited you could join us this season on Circuit Smack.
Tell me, how did you begin combat robotics?
“Thank you so much, Celia. It’s always been my dream to be here.
I started watching Circuit Smack with my dad as a kid.
I fell in love with all the different things you could do with some hunks of metal and a receiver.
My dad owns a mechanic shop, and he indulged my interest in engineering right away. ”
She nods encouragingly. “What kind of robots did you make at the start?”
“We started with LEGO robots and eventually worked up to creating our own beetleweight bots. I fought my first battle at a Twin Cities Robotics Society meet when I was sixteen, about sixteen years ago.”
“A rookie at Circuit Smack, but certainly not new to the world of robots! What do you love about the Twin Cities Robotics Society?”
“There are so many incredible builders in the scene who have such a passion for the sport, and it’s always an honor to work alongside and fight them. It’s been really amazing to grow up with a lot of the builders and see new generations come into the arena.”
“Speaking of other builders,” she says.
Oh. Oh no.
I know he’s behind me before I see him. An invisible, irresistible pull of gravity tugs at me as he nears, each cell in my body electrifying with a static charge.
I don’t let my smile falter, but as he slides up next to me, arm brushing mine, I hope the camera can’t see the goosebumps that break out across my flesh.
This is the closest I’ve been to him since the night I threw a drink on him.
“Jacob Moore of Team Kilowatt is also a Twin Cities native. You moved away for a while, but I hear you’re on your way back?”
Back?
I look at him in surprise. Did he get taller? My head is tilted back impossibly far.
“Hey, Celia.” His smile is as brilliant as a star.
After years of competing on Circuit Smack and other competitions, as well as various press events at his fancy aerospace day job, he’s a natural.
He’s relaxed and devastatingly handsome.
His serene smile with his single dimple studding his cheek is a charming package.
I already know he can lie with a straight face, so it’s no surprise he can mask his annoyance at being this close to me.
My hands ball into fists at my sides, pain distracting me from some of the rage.
“That’s right,” he says, nodding excitedly. “I’m moving my engineering firm back to the Twin Cities. I’ll be partnering with the Twin Cities Robotics Society on a new robotics camp for kids and a new junior league tournament.”
As cool as that is for the community, all I can think about is how he’ll be everywhere now.
There won’t be an event without him. Unless I give up the robotics league entirely, he will be impossible to avoid.
I may not love it the way I used to, but I’m afraid of losing it.
I don’t want to lose more because of him.
“That’s so exciting! I hear you two are quite the rivals,” she says with a wink.
Jacob answers before I can. I can’t tell if I am grateful or annoyed. “Mari and I fought regularly growing up,” he says. Though the words are casual, even friendly, I decide I’m annoyed. “Neither of us ever backs down. We’ll go as hard as we can for as long as we can.”
It’s true. Neither of us has ever tapped out against each other, even when we know we’ve lost. Even when we were on good terms, I’d never give him a win. Every time we’ve fought, both of us went until we were counted out or the match was over.
“I’m pretty sure we’d fight to the death if we had to,” I say, thinking out loud. Celia laughs like tinkling bells, absolutely amused. Jacob’s smile slips a bit.
“Mari is stubborn,” he says. He smiles, but it can’t counteract the caustic undercurrent.
Celia and the cameramen are like sharks smelling blood in the water. “Do either of you keep a tally of your wins against each other?”
Jacob chuckles softly, fake composure regained. I laugh awkwardly. “We’re exactly tied,” he says casually. I knew the bastard was keeping score.
I have been, too, though.
“Wow! Impressive!” Celia purrs to the camera. “Jacob, I heard you got a surprising request a few minutes ago.”
There’s a specific feeling that overtakes you when you’re at a stoplight and a car is pulling up behind you, but they’re going way, way too fast. My whole body stiffens, preparing for impact.
“Sure did. It was unfortunate to hear, but the All Byte, No Bark team has had an emergency, and cannot compete.” Oh no. No, no, no, no. “As the reigning champion, Kilowatt will be filling their spot in the qualifiers.”
Oh, fuck.
I really hope the millions of people who watch Circuit Smack don’t see me flinch. All Byte, No Bark was slated to be our first fight.
“Does this mean you’ll be doubling your fights? Do you think Kilowatt can handle it?” Celia feigns seriousness. “You don’t even have to enter the qualifiers.”
Jacob nods. “It does, but Team Kilowatt is always prepared to go hard and fight extra fights. We’re happy to take on this responsibility.
” He is a benevolent king, addressing his citizens while I wait with my neck on the chopping block.
“We already have a place in the championship, but I want to make sure we’re earning it, not just resting on our laurels. ”
“This also means you and Mari will fight against each other for her first fight in the Circuit Smack arena! That’s so exciting!
” Celia couldn’t sound more thrilled if you handed her a million-dollar check.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the rest of the team come back with snacks.
They stop so abruptly at the statement that a bag of chips tumbles out of Chris’s overburdened arms and bursts open on the floor.
Slack-jawed surprise overtakes all three men. Fatimah rubs her temples.
Celia shoves her microphone in Jacob’s face for comment.
“Mari’s bots and driving are both world-class—it’ll be an honor to fight her and ZetaMax at Circuit Smack.
” He turns his smile towards me. There isn’t a hint of smugness or sarcasm in it.
It throws me harder than a heavyweight hit across the arena.
“We’re going to win, though.” And there it is.
He couldn’t just leave it at something nice.
I wonder if the audience at home can see ripples of heat shimmering off me like hot pavement in the summer, because I am incandescent with rage.
“We’ll see about that,” I say through a clenched-teeth smile.
Celia’s beautiful, smug expression turns on me. “Mari, do you think ZetaMax has what it takes to make it to the World Championship?”
This time, I know the flinch is visible as I remember how fucking terrible our bot is.
“Team Zeta is working really hard. We’re at a bit of a disadvantage being a new team with a new bot, but everyone is so skilled and excited to be here.
We have what it takes to get there.” I give her and the camera my biggest, most confident smile, even if I’m shaking in my pink combat boots.
I’m not sure I believe my answer, but I hope others do.
“I believe it!” Celia announces. “That’s all for now from Builder Bay!” she says, signing off. The cameraman tips the camera down and away from us. “Great job, you two!” She winks. “Thanks for taking the time to talk.”
I thank her in return before pushing away from the group. I’m desperate for a moment of quiet to calm my racing pulse. The surrounding sounds are muffled and far away as I try to take deep breaths.
The interview wasn’t intended to be mean, just dramatic. However, with the dawning realization of everything we’re up against, I feel like I was asked if I’m ready to live stream my own dissection. Directionless, I stumble away.
I find myself in an empty service corridor. I’m not really even sure how I got here in my post-interview haze. The fluorescent bulbs need to be replaced, leaving the long hallway doused in liminal twilight. But it’s quiet and empty, and that’s what I need right now.
The shock wave of the last few minutes ripples through me.
We’re fighting Kilowatt. Jacob said something nice.
We’re fighting Kilowatt. Jacob said something less than nice.
We’re fighting Kilowatt. Our bot is a mess.
We’re fighting Kilowatt. Jacob said something nice?
That one is still throwing me off. Oh yeah, also, we’re fighting Kilowatt.
Zeta is terrible. That interview will be paired with us losing horrifically to Kilowatt; I know it.
And Jacob will win, like always. He’s fucking with me.
He must be trying to fuck with me. He’ll be back home.
I thought if I could get through this, everything would be fine.
Now, he’ll fuck with me forever. And I have to fight him.
And probably lose to him in front of millions of people.
And he’ll see me lose the biggest chance of my life.
My mind races out of control.
I let my body sag against the wall and gently lower myself to the floor. The painted brick and smooth linoleum leech their soothing coolness through my jeans and T-shirt.
I close my eyes and remind myself that this will all be worth it.
$10,000 minimum. Dad’s last physical therapy bill from the hospital.
A portion of the coinsurance bill for his wheelchair.
At least part of Ava’s first semester tuition.
Ava’s hormones. No matter what, those things are covered as long as we can get the bot operational and in the ring.
Even if we lose. Those are covered. This can still open other opportunities for me, even if I lose.
I wanted to be here. And we could still win enough fights to get into the championship.
Even if we don’t, we could still win the Last Shot Bot Trot.
Letting the riptide of negativity pull me under won’t help me pay the bills.
We could still do this. I could still do this.
I have to keep my head down, work hard, ignore Jacob as much as possible.
I can figure out what to do about Jacob moving back home later.
Even if I lose to him in the first fight, we can still get to the championship.
Forget about our history, just focus on ZetaMax.
Just focus on winning. Don’t think about Jacob.