leaped up at it. Beyond him it skipped off the turf and tucked itself into the corner of the outfield.
Behind me Jimmy chuckled. 'That's a double for sure, maybe even a triple. You've got good wheels.'
'You're being generous.'
'Never going to fit undercover, Wolf, if you don't brag a bit.'
'Just taking my lead from you, Jim.'
With the rest of his pitches, Babe kept me honest, but I got pieces of more than I missed. As he began to tire and I got into my rhythm, stroking the ball felt really good. Finally, as we both agreed it was to be the last pitch, I pointed toward the outfield. 'This time I'm serious.'
Babe laughed aloud. 'Yeah, you and every other curb-climber. No mercy, Wolf.' 'Asked or given, Babe.'
Because I'd begun to hit his curve, he came straight at me with a hard fastball. I saw him release it at the top of his arm's arc and I knew in a split-second that ball would be jetting fat and happy through my strike zone. Pushing off with my left foot, I strode forward. Cranking the bat around, I knew the ball was going places.
It was, like right into the backstop as my bat missed it by the same margin Christmas misses June.
With my bat pounding the turf as my swing spun me around, I dropped to my knees. Looking up I saw even Jimmy holding his sides to stop chuckling. 'What the hell was that?'
Babe jogged down from the mound and laughed with a low, sinister voice. 'Just a reminder, kid. We're the pros in this league, and you're just a promising amateur.' If not for the impish light in his eyes, I'd have figured Babe was mad at me. He slapped Jimmy on the arm and headed into the dugout.
I slowly regained my feet and brushed my knees off. 'That ball broke like a Ferrari on Pothole Road.'
Jimmy nodded and kicked some of the balls back out toward the mound. 'Yeah, well, Babe was just having some fun with you.'
'What was that pitch?'
He kicked a ball toward me and I noticed that dirt clung to part of it. 'Babe gave you a spitter.'
I swore. 'And what doyou do when somebody pitches you one of those?'
'Miss like you did…' Jimmy shrugged. 'Or hit it on the dry side.'
Even though I'd not worked up much of a sweat, the shower felt good. I would have lingered, but Jimmy and I had dates for the evening and the woman I was seeing considered punctuality next to cleanliness in the way of divine attributes. As I was definitely considering dedicating a temple or two to her, I knew better than to keep her waiting. A tall, beer-bellied man with a lopsided smile tossed me a thick white towel as I stepped from the shower. 'You went after the spitter. 'Sa nasty pitch.' He pounded his own chest proudly. 'Fzz able to hit that one.'
The man's slightly slurred speech and the partial paralysis of the right side of his body made me uneasy, but I returned his smile. 'You're a better man than I, in that case.'
Jimmy left the shower and fielded the towel line-drive easily. 'That you could, Thumper. You could hit that spitter like it had been in the desert for years.' He jerked a thumb at me. 'Wolfgang Kies, meet Al Grater. He used to play under Ted Williams for Seattle about ten years back.'
My smile broadened. 'Yeah, okay, I remember now. You were playing Williams' 1947 season back in '39, weren't you? I actually saw you play. You hit a double, a triple, and a homer in that game.'
'The Thumper, 'sme.' His brown eyes watched me carefully. ' 'Sa good year.'
The ragged scar tracking back through his black hair on the left side of his head reminded me of what had happened to him. In the 2040 season he'd been hit by a pitch that, as it turned out, had fractured his skull. He remained up at the plate and hit the next pitch out of the park, but collapsed rounding third. The brain damage hit him as hard as a stroke. The Seadogs management tried to put him back together, but could not, so they let him work around the Dome.
'It was a good year indeed.' Babe Ruth draped an arm over Thumper's shoulders. He pointed a fat corona's glowing tip at me and grinned. 'That was the year I entered the team's AAA Coastal League franchise, and the last year I ever swung at a spitball.'
Jimmy rubbed his towel through his closely cropped, kinky black hair. 'You had to throw that pitch because you knew Wolf would have hit anything else you threw at him.' Babe winked at me. 'True enough. A little seasoning, Wolf, and you could play Wildfire Schulte or Footsie Marcum.'
'Thanks, I think.'
Jimmy rested his left hand on my right shoulder. 'Might want to rethink that, Babe. Wolf isn't wired and he turned the helmet off. He was hitting you all by his lonesome.'
Babe blanched a bit, but his jocularity only vanished for a nanosecond. 'I'll get someone to get me my '16 statsofts2and then we'll give him a real workout.'
I nodded. 'You're on.' I turned to Jimmy. 'We'd best get moving. We don't want to be late.'
Jimmy fastened his towel around his slender waist. 'I hope you're right about this woman you've got me meeting. I hate blind dates.'
I frowned. 'It's not really a date. Just drinks and maybe dinner. Wouldn't do that to her or you.'
Babe seated himself on the bench by our lockers. 'Big night? Where are you going?'
'It's a new place.' I grimaced. 'It's called ParVenue.'
Babe smiled wryly. 'Oh, I think you'll love that place, Jimmy. Thinking about asking the boys upstairs to get me a membership there as my next signing bonus.'
Jimmy grunted, but I was unsure if he was still uneasy about having a blind date or if something about the club Valerie had chosen irritated him. I looked at Babe and Thumper. 'If you two want to come along, I think my connection can get you in.'
Babe shook his head. 'Not me. Seattle's governor wants the Sultan at some reception she's tossing tonight.'
2Statsofts are what they call baseball activesofts. They're just like normal activesofts in all respects save that they carry with them a bit of a personality overlay-much the way an activesoft of Hamlet for some actor might carry with it data on how the role was played by this actor or that in the past. Depending on the rev of Hamlet you run, you can be Gibson, Branagh, or Olivier.
'Thumper?'
Al shook his head with a herky-jerky motion. ' 'Sa not for me. 'Sides, I got work to do around here. I'm changing all the burned bulbs in the Scoreboard. Want it right for when we beat the San Diego Jaguars.'
'Another time then.' I opened my locker as they left Jimmy and me alone. I tossed a wink at the picture of Lynn I'd taped to the inside of the door-just keeping with my cover, mind you-and pulled on a pair of khaki slacks. The polo shirt I tugged on over my head was navy blue and had the team's logo emblazoned on the right breast. Sheathing my feet in a pair of nylon Armani-Nike3power trainers and pumping them to snug completed my outfit, then raking a comb through my hair finished my preparations.
Jimmy took a sidelong glance at me and whistled. 'Look lots better now than you did in the batting cage.'
I jingled the keys of my car at him. 'And we'll both look better in the Fenris.'
'Then lead on, my friend.'
The short tunnel from the locker room brought us directly to the parking lot beneath the stadium. Off to the right, the Fenris lurked like a piece of primordial darkness. All smooth and sleek, it reflected none of the garage's meager light because of a radarbane coating Doctor Raven had sprayed on it. Time seemed to slow as you approached the car, but I figured that was relativity in action because the car looked like it was doing light speed when it was sitting still.
The Fenris even impressed Jimmy. ' 'Fifty model, with a twelve-cylinder engine, right?'
I nodded. 'Seventy-five hundred klicks on her and still not a dent.'
3Active wear for the chic. I actually prefer Gucci-Puma sneakers myself-despite the Old One's protests-but part of the licensing deal with the team meant we got this stuff for free, which meant I didn't mind slumming my way into it.
Jimmy ran a hand gently over the top. 'Doc Raven must pay very well.'
I smiled and keyed open my door. The automatic locks snapped open and Jimmy settled into the passenger seat. 'Actually this was a gift from a friend, but Raven has been known to be generous.' I smiled openly. 'You can bet Ms. Lacy-Mitsuto will pay very well if I can solve your little problem here.'
'You find out who's been trying to sabotage our drive for the pennant and money will be no object.'
I punched in the ignition sequence, and the dozen cylinders beneath the Fenris' hood started hitting like Murderers' Row. The vehicle's headlights rotated up into position and I shifted the car into gear. 'ParVenue, here
