Chapter 33
“Hey Mari,” Fatimah whispers.
We’re busy filling extra sets of wheels with sand and poly fill fiber.
Where the qualifiers for the championship are a marathon, taking place over a couple weeks, the Last Shot Bot Trot is a sprint.
Four fights over three days, with the quarterfinals, semifinals, and the finale being on the same day and only a day’s break between them and the qualifiers.
Getting as many replaceable components ready as possible will ease the workload later.
“Yeah?”
“Am I hallucinating, or is Jacob Moore installing motors in Zeta with Chris right now?”
I peek over my shoulder at the men. Chris’s undivided attention is on Jacob as he explains something. This morning, he waited for us to get here, motors ready. I said nothing to the team other than assigning tasks, much to their bafflement.
“No hallucinations,” I confirm.
Fatimah sets her wheel down and turns to me. “Explain. Because wasn’t he your archenemy?”
I focus on the wheel I’m holding with more attention than it requires. “Uhhh. He apologized?”
She purses her lips. “And you forgave him?”
“Not for everything,” I defend. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I need the help. I hope he doesn’t sabotage me or something.” Doubt creeps in again like mold on bread.
She watches Jacob and Chris. “I know you’ve had your problems with him,” she says. “Rightfully. But I’ve heard him defend you more than a couple of times when you weren’t around.”
“Wait, really?”
“I believe you about that fight, for the record,” she says.
“Jacob made too many changes for an innocent guy.” We’re both watching the men now, wheels temporarily forgotten.
Their jovial camaraderie warms me in the cold room.
“But he made them. And even if you avoided him, I’ve seen him watch your fights.
I’ve heard him say nothing but kind things about you.
” My head spins. Fatimah turns back to her wheel.
“I’m just saying, I think his help is genuine. ”
I force myself to nod before going back to my pile of wheels.
When we’re finished, Sonny gives us a rundown on the capacity of the batteries we managed to sweet-talk out of another team. They’re good, but their ability to hold a full charge is waning. “It shouldn’t be a problem with adequate time to recharge between fights.”
“Define adequate,” Jacob asks for me.
Sonny scratches his head and shrugs. “Overnight would be best.”
Worried gray eyes meet mine. That will work for other fights, but that’s risky for the Trot. If I even make it far enough for that to be a concern. “Do you think they’ll hold enough charge for three fights, back-to-back?” I ask.
“If you’re not using your weapon a lot,” Sonny says solemnly. “You might be able to get two fights out of them. Three will be pushing it.”
I’ll have to be very strategic. Hope there’s enough juice in our current batteries to make up for it. While the new parts give me a fighting chance, I’ll still have to work hard for it.
The day passes in a flurry of activity, punctuated by people stopping to gawk at Jacob in our station.
It’s late by the time I’m ready to leave.
I take one last look at Zeta. My robot isn’t perfect, but she is mine.
I’m not only feeling hopeful, but maybe even a shred of confidence that I can pull this off.
“Are you okay?” Jacob asks me quietly as I lean heavily on the dolly’s handle. “You’re limping.”
“Yep,” I say. I wince as I step wrong, pain shooting through my knee.
“You need to sit down,” he urges. “What happened?”
I wince again, this time in embarrassment. We’re almost to the test arena. I can sit there. “It’s nothing.” I’ve scooted around in a rolling chair all morning to not draw attention to my asinine injury.
“It’s not nothing. Did you fall?”
“I twisted my knee in my sleep.” I used my cane to get down here, but figured I’d be fine to walk from our workstation to the arena with the dolly’s support. Also, frankly, I was hoping no one would notice. Jacob, however, seems to notice everything.
He gives me a curt bob of his head and walks ahead towards the test area and out of sight. When we make it there, he’s waiting by a stool. Sonny and Chris take the cart from me, and Jacob appears by my side in an instant.
“Take my arm,” he says. My face scrunches in confusion as he holds his arm out for me. “You won’t be able to focus if you’re in pain,” he appeals. “You need to let yourself heal.”
I hate that he’s right, and I look around to see if anyone is watching. We’re the only people out here, save for a couple of Circuit Smack staff members. The rest of the team is getting the bot into place.
I loop my arm through his. He’s blissfully warm in the cold air, even through the barriers of his sweatshirt and my leather jacket. I can’t stop my innate heat-seeking reaction, pulling myself closer to him as we walk slowly. He blinks in surprise, and I pull myself away again. “Sorry,” I mumble.
The stool is at the perfect vantage point for me to see everything, exactly where I would put it. “Ready?” I ask the team. They look thrilled.
“Start’er up!” Chris says.
We collectively hold our breaths as Zeta powers on and cheer when it starts. With the upgrades, she’s fast, zipping around the arena with speed the original Zeta could only dream of.
“I knew the motors were good,” I say, “but holy shit, Jacob.”
He beams at me. “Power up the weapon. It should hit the max pretty quickly.”
Fatimah grabs the speed gun as I start the weapon. Chris presses the button on a stopwatch.
“We’re at 250 miles per hour already!” she cries.
“Three and a half seconds!” Chris pumps his fist in the air.
Laughter spills out of my mouth. Shock, joy, and sheer glee mix with hope, fueling me.
I hit a washing machine, and it goes flying across the test arena.
I do it again. I’m a kid once more, my first LEGO robot sending tiny plastic figures and block towers careening across the living room.
The potential is like spreading my wings after so long in a cage.
I smile up at Jacob, standing next to me. It’s like I’m seeing him again for the first time. The awe I have now is the same as when I originally watched him fight and talk about his robots. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he murmurs. “I owe you.”
ZetaMax slams into a tractor tire, flipping it end over end. My adrenaline surges at what this could mean for my chances. “I think we might be closer to being even after this.”
“Oh, Mari,” he says, voice a gentle, crackling fire in the cold. “I’ll never stop trying to make it up to you.”