Liberty and Shawn had two purposes for getting together that Sunday evening.
Shawn had checked out a small television receiver and recorder, and had purchased a blank disk. Liberty had found out that the highlights of the Chunichi Cup would be broadcast at seven o’clock in their time zone.
‘Highlights’ for any program being edited for broadcast from the North American Telecommunications Platform, they knew, would mean any competitors from their continent, as well as the winners, whoever they turned out to be. Jason and Sarah had been invited to join the party.
But they had work to do also. On the round table in Shawn’s room they had spread all their notes on the security incident in early November. A draft of their final report was in progress, but many issues remained to be discussed. Several nagging questions seemed beyond even their combined insight.
Both the athletic event they would vicariously experience and the mental effort they planned to put into the report called for refreshments. On Shawn’s desk sat an iced pitcher of mango juice that Liberty had brought, potato chips and dip courtesy of Jason, cookies that Sarah had made, and a cold platter of meats and cheeses that Shawn had put together.
Jason had brought two board games, knowing he would have a worthy opponent. He and Sarah sat on Shawn’s bed, setting up the pieces for a sophisticated simulation of conditions in Europe in the year 1938. Jason was
playing Russia, and Sarah was playing Germany.
“If you win, you have to promise me something,” Jason said.
“What?” Sarah inquired.
“That you won’t let it go to your head and start making plans for world domination!”
Sarah burst out laughing.
The television announcer’s voice, a smooth tenor, caught their attention for a moment. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the modern Sports Pavilion in beautiful Kobe, Japan. This year’s Chunichi Cup has a slightly wider field of international competitors than in previous years. The Canadian National Champion was invited for the first time in three years, and even, for the first time in history, a competitor from the African continent...”
Liberty dropped the notes she had been staring at and took a sip of her juice. “Okay, I see your general point that your dad will turn his anger toward Lyceum, but we both agree he doesn’t have any grounds to do that publicly, and we also both agree he doesn’t have the balls to hire nasty-enough goons to do it privately. So what’s left? We must be missing something...”
“I wish I knew. I really don’t see how he could get away with anything, now that the entire campus knows about the threat and the way he operates.
He’d have to be so nasty, with guns or something, that he’d risk serious consequences to his reputation.”
“Agreed. Is his desire to get back at you so great that he would risk his career?”
“I don’t know! I never would have guessed he’d do what he already has done, in Greenville and here!”
The narrator’s voice again turned their heads. “Saturday morning, the entire slate of gymnasts competed on the vault. Here you see Kathy Johansen, our national champion, doing her vault, for which she earned a 9.4.”
“Isn’t that an unusually low score for Kathy?” a female narrator asked.
“Yes, Barbara, but remember this is a private, invitational competition. All of the judges are from the host nation, and they have their own standards of style, even though the rules of technical merit are theoretically international in scope.”
“I see. And who is this we’re watching now?”
“This is Karen Sundberg from the United States, a virtual unknown. She placed in the National Championships last year, but other than that, has never before been seen in world-class competition.”
“Three such unknowns were invited from the United States as I remember.”
“Yes. That was a first, and the speculation in world-class circles is that it was done to actually tarnish the image of the United States as far as Chunichi Cup competition is concerned. As unknowns, no one was expecting any serious performance from them. Here is Tabitha McDonald’s vault, and directly following we will see Ashley Riddle. Karen received a 9.5, Tabitha a 9.3, and Ashley a 9.2.”
“So the judges liked Karen’s vault better than Kathy Johansen’s.”
“That’s right, and if you compare the two, you can see why. Karen’s vault was much tighter and crisper, and that’s how the Japanese like to do theirs.
Let’s take a look at the top scoring European and Asian vaulters, including the event winner, Risa Okawa...”
“I bet Karen was proud to get a good score on her vault,” Shawn said.
“She’s our best vaulter,” Liberty said. “Ashley would rather do the balance beam twice. What’s the absolute lowest you think your dad will stoop?”
Shawn sat thoughtfully, crunching on a potato chip and remembering his father’s venomous words to little Sarah two years before.
“Three divisions into H-6, and I’m spending five thousand marks to reopen the bomb factory on the Rhine,” Sarah said.
“I had a hunch you’d do that,” Jason said. “Okay, Poland is threatened, so I’m putting out a general call to the populous for recruits. That will increase my army by ten percent, and I’m moving two divisions to the Polish border, at Lemberg and Kovel.”
“As sad as it makes me, I’ll be honest,” Shawn said, finally ready to answer Liberty’s question. “I think he would go as low as you can imagine...”
Liberty
whistled.
“...but only with words and scare tactics. I don’t think he will resort to violence.”
“So after the vaulting was complete, Risa Okawa stood in first place with
her 9.9, and Karen Sundberg and Kathy Johansen were in sixth and seventh.
Now let’s look at the floor exercises that were done on Saturday afternoon.
Here is where tongues really started waging. First lets watch Tabitha McDonald, who pulled off an amazing 9.8.”
“But remember, John, when they gave her that score, they had already given one ten and two 9.9’s to Asian and European gymnasts.”
“Watch this... punch-front, twisting aerial, double back flip, another punch, handspring, somersault, handspring... Tabitha’s tumbling just never seems to stop!”
“It was an amazing exercise.”
“But what you were saying was absolutely correct, Barbara. The favored athletes had already scored well, and the 9.8 allowed them to avoid too much criticism, because Tabitha’s performance was stunning by anyone’s standards.
Here is Ashley Riddle’s exercise, good and solid, not quite as difficult as her teammate’s, and clearly in the American style.”
“And that’s why she only got a 9.5.”
“No one ever really knows, Barbara...”
“Too bad so much politics has to come into it,” Jason said.
Sarah laid a card down. “Speaking of politics, I’m sending a diplomatic envoy to the United States, promising them lots of new markets if they stay out of the war.”
“Oooo, that’s dirty!” Jason said. “Because of my previous treaty and my trade agreement with England, I have a two point advantage on my roll.” He tossed the dice. “Yes! England is an ally, with complete military co-protection agreements. Now I send an envoy to the states, and I have a one point advantage because of my alliance with England!”
“Here’s my draft of a worst-case scenario,” Shawn said, handing Liberty some papers. “See what you think.” He picked up a cookie and looked at the television screen.
“So the first day of the Chunichi Cup competition ended with two Japanese, one Russian, and one Romanian gymnast lined up for the first four places, and all four of the gymnasts from the United states standing on the edges as possible threats.”
“That’s right, Barbara. Saturday was all talk, you might say. Sunday is
when things really started happening. Now we are about to see the sad moment when Kathy Johansen missed the high bar on one of her complex release moves. Everything was just fine up to this point, and her bar routine was promising a very good score. Here it comes...”
All four Lyceum members moaned when the national champion fell, slowly picked herself up, and with little energy, swung back up to the bars and half-heartedly completed her routine.
“She didn’t seem to be injured in any way, but was obviously shaken badly, and wasn’t back in form for the balance beam in the afternoon, as we’ll see later. Now let’s watch Karen Sundberg again.”
“John, Karen’s bar routine came right after Kathy’s, didn’t it?”
“Yes, and you know what a demoralizing effect a fall like that can have on the next few gymnasts to perform, especially when they are from the same country. But Karen seemed to handle it. Watch this... giant, release, loop to the low bar, release, cast and another release. She has so many release moves, I’ve heard joking speculation that her gym doesn’t have a set of bars!”
The lady narrator chuckled. “Let me see, John, she is from a gym called Lyceum. I’ve never heard of it.”
“I hadn’t either, Barbara. Watch this dismount... spectacular, and the judges gave her a 9.9. It turns out that Lyceum is well known as an international service organization, but it’s elite gymnastics program is very small. Next we’ll watch Ashley Riddle...”
“What do you thinks gonna happen?” Liberty asked no one in particular.
“I think Jason’s infantry at Bialystok is hamburger unless he reinforces it fast!” Sarah said.
“I mean with the gymnastics.”
“First and second look wrapped up to me,” Shawn said. “Japan and Russia. Third and above are wide open.”
“Agreed,” Jason said. “I didn’t know you’d be fooled by that little decoy so easily, Sarah! Two divisions by sea from Leningrad, three by land, a friendly protection force that is applauded by the populous as they march, all converging in Danzig. Any questions?”
“There’s Ashley!” Liberty said, and they all watched.
“Again, ladies and gentlemen, Ashley Riddle’s performance is solid, but
not quite as difficult as Karen’s. Here’s her dismount. Wow! I have never seen height like that!”
“Wasn’t that a quadruple somersault, John?”
“Yes, Barbara. The video has already been analyzed in slow motion to confirm it.”
“So why only a 9.4?”
“The Japanese have never been big on fancy bar dismounts, Barbara...”
Liberty refilled her mango juice and finished reading Shawn’s draft.
“Okay, it looks good, but it assumes he’ll use goons again. What would be the worst-case if he decided to do something personally?”
Shawn had a puzzled look on his face as he slowly swallowed a slice of turkey.
“Ha, ha! The United States took the bait! No possible intervention for five turns!” Sarah taunted.
“Lucky dice roll...!” Jason complained.
“We’re going to save the surprise for last, aren’t we Barbara?”
“I should hope so! Here’s Risa Okawa’s balance beam routine, for which she earned a 9.8.”
“Very nice. Those of you following the scores already know that her 9.8
makes her the untouchable gold medallist for this year’s Chunichi Cup.”
“Here’s her dismount, and a tiny step. Next let’s watch Ashley Riddle, who is a fairly unique gymnast in that the beam appears to be her strongest routine, at least at this competition.”
“Amazing, John. She’s doing punch-backs on the beam. Has that ever been done before?”
“Yes, but seldom in competition. It’s a move that no gymnast seems to like doing. For this excellent routine, she received only a 9.7, which left a lot of observers grumbling.”
“Not into punch-backs, I guess.”
“I guess not, Barbara. Now let’s watch Svetlana Kochetkova’s beam performance that secured her second place medal.”
Sarah got some meats and cheeses and Liberty grabbed a handful of potato chips. They were all still wondering what the surprise was. The Russian gymnast was fantastic, and everyone agreed she deserved a medal.
“Okay, John, we’re almost out of time, so we’d better bring out the surprise.”
“Yes Barbara, it’s that time. Let’s watch Karen Sundberg’s beam routine.
Here’s her mount, and she immediately flies into two layouts, and never seems to drop back to the simple moves, although she does get in all required elements.”
“Karen,” Liberty whispered, smiling. “She must be the surprise!”
“This is really amazing, John. I get the feeling that this is the performance of her life.”
“Yes. Punch-back, somersault and right into an aerial, and here comes her dismount, and just as you’re sure she’s going to miss the beam, she catches the very end and throws in a double-twisting back handspring!”
“The crowd went wild over that performance, as you can hear in the background, ladies and gentlemen, and the judges couldn’t avoid the perfect ten they handed her.”
“Which, of course, is the score that gave this nearly unknown gymnast, from an unknown gym, the bronze medal at this year’s Chunichi cup.”
All four Lyceum members in Shawn’s apartment clapped and cheered and smiled for their friend.
“Let’s take a look at the final rankings, Barbara. As you can see, Tabitha McDonald came in with a sixth place ribbon, Ashley Riddle with an eighth place, and Kathy Johansen with a disappointing eleventh.”
“And the prizes this year are higher than ever before, John. Risa Okawa takes home the equivalent of about one hundred and twelve thousand dollars, Svetlana Kochetkova is eighty-nine thousand dollars richer, and Karen Sundberg earns about seventy-two thousand dollars.”
“Jeez. I should have been a gymnast!” Liberty said, half seriously.
When the three gymnasts stepped off the plane at Portland International Airport on Tuesday evening, they hadn’t been stretching at every opportunity, they hadn’t made any provision for jet lag, and they hadn’t been eating healthy food. They were on vacation.
So many people had wanted to meet them at the airport that Lyceum had used one of its large buses. Liberty and Sarah were there, but Shawn was at
work in the Library. As soon as the gymnasts and proud coaches stepped out of the boarding tunnel, they were surrounded by forty-three friends and associates. All the way back to Lyceum they told about their trip, and the meet, and the sight-seeing they had done on Monday.
After they arrived back at Lyceum, Brian let Ashley put her travel trunk and other baggage in her room before he gave her the bad news. They both ran all the way to the Hospice Center.
Jenny was in bed and Brother Kenneth was there, sitting in a chair checking his patient’s temperature. Ashley kneeled down beside the doctor.
“Hi,
Jenny.”
“Hi, Ashes. I heard you got a ribbon.”
“Yeah. What happened to you?”
Jenny looked at her doctor.
“It’s a type of pneumonia. It’s rarely serious in healthy people.”
“Could it be...” Ashley started.
“Fatal to Jenny? Yes. But she’s already told me she’s not ready to go yet.
She wants to fight it with everything necessary.”
Just then Jenny started coughing, a deep, painful cough. Brother Kenneth rolled her on her side and massaged her throat, and Brian went to the other side of the bed and rubbed Jenny’s back. When the fit was finally over, Jenny was almost blue with exhaustion.
“And she’s on strong cough suppressants,” the doctor said, glancing at Ashley with a serious look on his face.
Ashley moved to the edge of the bed and held Jenny’s hand. The sick girl was starting to get her color back.
“I haven’t been a very good friend recently. Now that my parents are gone and the Chunichi Cup’s over, I’d like to spend more time with you.”
“Okay,” Jenny whispered. She swallowed a few times, and was then able to speak softly. “Voice Seven is in the computer. I just have to polish it and then start putting them all together.”
“First you have to get well,” Brian said.
“You should be feeling better soon,” Brother Kenneth said. “The antibiotic should be kicking those bugs out of your body on about the fourth day of the series, and that will be day after tomorrow. You’re lucky, Jenny. If you had
been on the cancer chemotherapy, the pneumonia would have been even harder to fight.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Jenny whispered.
“Come in!” Ashley repeated.
Sister Marscha entered carrying a steaming vaporizer.
“Thank you, Marscha. She just had another bad coughing fit,” the doctor said.
The herbalist held the vapor tube near Jenny’s nose.
“Smells nice,” Jenny whispered.
“Mullein, echinacea, licorice, comfrey, elecampane, and garlic. Just a little garlic. But if it’s consistent with your other therapies, I’d like you to start taking a lot more garlic. We were paying a little too much attention to your cancer, and not enough to simple infections. Would that be okay with you, Jenny?”
“If it’s okay with Doctor Kenneth...”
Brother Kenneth picked up his clipboard. “That would be fine. Dose?”
“Twenty m.g. essence, dilute, por os q.i.d., p.c. and h.s.,” she said and the doctor wrote. “That means you’ll have a soft capsule to take after each meal and at bedtime.”
“Okay,” the weak girl whispered.
Jenny got progressively worse for the next three days, and Ashley spent about half of her waking time at her friend’s bedside, along with Brian, Shawn, the Hospice Center staff, and several other friends Jenny had made.
Sister Marscha was able to concoct a cough suppressant that was more effective, and several more infection-fighting herbs were introduced into Jenny’s diet. Brother Kenneth was worried, until Jenny finally showed signs of improvement on the sixth day of her antibiotic series. He wrote new orders, extending the series and weaning Jenny from it very, very slowly. He even realized that it might be necessary to keep her on one antibiotic or another for the remainder of her time with them.
Ashley went through a major soul searching during Jenny’s illness. The realization kept haunting her that Jenny could have died, with her one dream
unfulfilled, while Ashley was chasing elusive medals in Japan. She wanted to continue to spend time with her friend every day, even when Jenny would be able to return to the Audio Production Studio and work on her music again.
As Ashley sat at a computer terminal about a week later, glancing at her schedule, she looked askance at the huge block of time that was devoted to gymnastics every week, with more hours going into exercise and dance. It was just a momentary feeling. She loved gymnastics and dance. But on some level of her mind she knew that her life couldn’t remain centered around them forever.