Robert Charrette - Arthur 01 - A Prince Among Men Read Online Free PDF Page B

sites and times. The odd scheduling meant that Coach Montoya, obliged by other, more mainline commitments, couldn't always make practices. Especially when the team was slipped into a gap in off-campus facilities like Rezcom 7's gym, as they were today.
    The coach's no-show was still a mystery, but John knew all too well why he was late. His appointment with Dr. Block—praise the powers that be, it had been short—and the problems getting to the rezcom; the trolley had been half an hour late. Across the room, Yael, Will Brenner, and Philip Skyler were already going through their warm-up exercises.
    John dug into the bottom of his duffel, groping for the box with the sensor tips. He finally found it, tucked inside his mask. He pulled both out and set the mask down. Opening the hard plastic case, he took one of the tips from the foam-lined compartment and fitted it to his foil.
    The sensor tips were the latest in high-tech fencing equipment, and had consumed most of the team's budget for the year. The tips combined the protective cover for the metal point of the blade with a chip-driven monitor. A sensor registered the pressure of a thrust, while another monitored blade angle and motion. The feedback allowed the chip to score hits for quality. A trigger on the grip allowed a fencer to register intent to attack, and a continuous communication loop between two opposing tips allowed the right of way only to the first fencer to register his intent. The freedom from monitor cords had changed the face of the sport, taking it away from the single line of the mats and returning it to the freer styles of ancient sword fights. John pulled on his glove and ran the chip's self-check, receiving the reassuring "right of way" buzz in his palm.
    Yael and Phil were sparring by the time he got his mask on. Will, the usual laggard, was having trouble getting the straps on his mask adjusted. John stepped over to give him a hand. Will was a senior and had been a member of the team longer than any of the rest of them, but he was still something of a klutz. Only conference rules and a lack of interested athletes kept him on the team.
    Once Will was ready, they set frequencies, squared off, and set to. The physical action felt good after the frustrations of psychological sparring with Dr. Block. John trounced Will in three passes running before easing off. Calmed, he stretched himself by letting his point drop and offering Will openings. Will took the offerings, but John was still too quick for him. On the next pass, John opened his guard further.
    He felt good, elated not so much for his easy defense against the clumsy Will, but by his control, form, and mastery of the weapon. Fencing was much better than basketball. Not that he didn't like B-ball. He had enjoyed playing in high school, but his first semester on the 'Tech frosh team had taught him how different things were between high school and college. Even on the freshman team, the pressure of collegiate play had been omnipresent. And if the pressure to make the cut wasn't enough of a distraction, there was always the intrusive attention of the corporate sportsmongers. College B-ball had a media following, and that meant that every team, even 'Tech's bargain-basement squad, had a following. Of media hacks, at least. John had found the artificiality of the whole thing nauseating.
    The heavy corporate promotion of the sport had soured him on playing. The sponsorship required everything to be so rigid, made it seem so controlled. That wasn't what sports were supposed to be about. So he had quit the team halfway through the season and tried looking for something else, but none of the other sponsored teams had wanted him after that. He had spent his second semester without any organized physical activity at all and discovered that he liked that even less. During the summer he tried the rezcom athletic programs, but they were full of screaming kids and geezers, and so instead of doing something, he