Chapter 29
Joel shows up minutes before our last fight in the qualifiers. “Well, ZetaMax.” He pats the bot. “Get ready for your last fight ever.”
Travis raises a hand nervously. “Joel, we were thinking about the Last Shot Bot Trot.”
“It’s been a good run, Zeta,” Joel continues, talking to the bot like it’s a car about to be sold for scrap. “But this is your last night.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Chris says. “There’s the Last Shot Bot Trot. We could enter it.”
“Team Jaxon!” a producer shouts. “Let’s go, go, go!” He waves us down the tunnel to the arena.
I tune out the announcer. I have to focus. My ribs are sore under my brace, but they’re where they should be. I wave at the crowd, perhaps for the last time.
No matter what, I did it. I fought in the Circuit Smack arena, and my giant, cheek-splitting grin is genuine. All the exhaustion, all the fear, all the joy wash over me in waves. Even if this is my last fight, I earned that $10,000, and I earned my place here. I think we might have a chance though.
Fatimah pulls me into a hug as we take our places. “You got this, Mari.”
I want to tell her I can’t focus with tears in my eyes, but my head bobs frantically. “We’ve got this.” The others agree.
“THREE ... TWO ... ONE ... FIGHT.”
In the blink of an eye, ZetaMax and Hamburger Hurter crash into each other in the middle of the arena. Neither of us has our weapons at full speed, but the force knocks Hamburger off-balance. It spins on its rim like a coin about to fall over.
“YES!” Chris cheers behind me. I rush forward to hit them again, our weapon finally at full speed, and send them flying.
The crowd roars, but it sounds distant through my singular focus.
Hamburger finally gets its balance back and comes for us.
Sparks fly as we connect, and both bots are knocked backward with the force of the collision.
Hurter flips end over end and—luckily for them and unlucky for us—lands right side up and comes screaming at us.
We’re at an angle, and with our poor turning radius, it’s a struggle to turn in time to avoid them.
It lands a full force hit on us, right to our weapon, disabling it.
I spend another thirty seconds dodging blows before they hit us hard again. This time, it’s fatal. Our left side drive goes down. We spin in place while Hamburger Hurter waits to see if we can salvage it.
We were so close. The sinking ship in my chest takes on water with each number. “Ten ...! Nine ...!” I try to move Zeta, trying to kick the motors back to life. “Eight ...! Seven ...!”
“You did so good,” Fatimah says in my ear.
“Come on, please,” I whisper in vain.
“Six ...! Five ...!”
I’m equal parts devastated and proud. It’s over. This was a good fight. I’m proud of it. If I’m lucky, it’ll be enough to convince Joel we can have a shot at the Trot.
“Four ...! Three ...!”
The joy of the spectators reminds me of how much I love this sport, even when it hurts.
I love this bot, even if it’s terrible. It’s been reminding me how much combat robotics means to me, after years of being unsure if I still love it.
I know that no matter what happens, I’ll do anything to make it back to this arena.
In the spot reserved for contestants, a familiar face mouths, “Zeta! Zeta! Zeta!” I can still feel his hands on me, hot and steady.
“Two ...! One!”
“NA-NA-NA-KNOCKOUT!”
Despite losing, my team mobs me with hugs and cheers as the colorful lights dance around the space. We didn’t win, but we gave it our all. Maybe it was enough.
Celia descends on us with her microphone. “Team Jaxon, you seem excited for a team who lost,” she laughs approvingly. “Why are you so excited?”
“Did you see that fight?” Chris says, leaning into the mic. The crowd roars.
“Mari, I think that was your best driving yet!” she says. “It’s sad to see Zeta going home. Or do you think you’ll enter the Last Shot Bot Trot?” She winks at the camera.
“Thank you, Celia! I don’t know,” I say and peek over at the crowd. “Should we enter the Bot Trot?” I ask them, hoping to appeal to Joel’s sense of showmanship. They hoot and holler, but judging by his scowl, it isn’t working. “I guess we’ll have to see!”
The second we’re out of the arena, we descend on Joel. “We should enter the Bot Trot,” I say. “We can do it.”
“I really think we have a chance.”
“The winnings will offset the costs.”
He laughs derisively. “ZetaMax is done,” he smirks. “I already have a buyer lined up.”
I stop so quickly that I wobble. “You what?”
“Only waiting on the paperwork.” He shrugs. “Should be final in a day or two. This wasn’t as fun as I’d hoped.”
“How much?” The words are a shock to my ears, even as they leave my mouth. “How much for Zeta?”
His mocking laugh is a thousand crows pecking at my skin. “Are you serious, Mercy?” He crosses his arms as his lecherous smirk crawls over me.
“How much for me to buy it?” I ask again.
He taps his chin in mocking thought. “I was going to sell it for $65,000. But I’ll give you the employee discount: $50,000.” I blanch. That’s more money than I’ve ever had in my life. My stomach rolls. “I’ll give you until the morning after tomorrow,” he sneers as he strolls towards the exit sign.