Achilles choice

Jillian somersaulted into the throw, curled into a ball except for the hand that gripped Osa’s shoulder and the foot that tucked into the blonde’s gut. As Jillian hit the mat her own momentum heaved Osa up in a devastating tomoenage stomach throw. Osa flipped like a gymnast, but landed on the balls of her feet in perfect balance. She grinned, and said “Meow.”

Jillian had never seen anyone move that fast, but controlled her awe: she also noticed that Osa’s reflexes were slightly faster than her coordination. Sometimes Boost changes things too quickly. And that fact Jillian could use to her advantage.

The two women circled each other. Osa smiled. “You’re very good, for one so timid.”

“I detect an accent.”

Jillian feinted a hip throw. Osa stiff-armed her back. “Yes. Born in Sweden, but I am Agricorp, not national!” she said proudly. “There were too many Judoka in Scandinavia.”

“Somebody pulled some strings?”

Osa danced to the left, then right, almost catching Jihlian in a foot sweep as she adjusted position. “Transferred my union files to a fishery in Seattle. It was easy to make the North American team. Your judo is not so good as ours.”

Jillian started to protest, and suddenly Osa was gone, had disappeared under her, and Jillian was swinging in an explosively tight arc into the mat. She slapped hard, still had the breath jarred out of her. Then Osa was on her, grinding Jihian’s face and chest into the mat, cranking her arms back, going for the pin.

The woman was everywhere at once, swarming, shifting, tireless.

It took everything that Jillian knew to keep Osa off, and she would have, if there had been a time limit.

But it went on, and on, a blurred, sweaty nightmare of fevered effort and ragged, shallow breaths. Osa seemed to grow stronger as the minutes passed, while Jillian, already fatigued by the bout with the Grappler, came closer and closer to complete exhaustion.

The room swam. Her throat spasmed for breath, and her stomach knotted as she rolled over onto her side. The room began to swim, and Jihian’s head pounded with pain. She felt totally disoriented.

Where was Osa? Had she given up?

Osa was grinning at her. Abner’s arms were around her, and he peered into her eyes, concerned.

My God… she thought bleakly. I’ve been choked out.

Abner shook his head. “You better stop being so proud, tap out faster. Osa’s pretty deadly with her hadaka-jime, isn’t she?”

Jillian shook her head ruefully, and tried to roll over. Osa was standing, her arm around another girl, and they were smirking at her.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine,” Jillian said.

“Jihian!” Osa called. “The Council might take a few Nationals to Greece. We need towel girls.”

Jillian started to go for her. With sudden, unexpected strength, Abner pulled her back, herded her to the door of the shower room. “It’s all right, Jillian. I learned what I needed to know.”

“What? If I snore?”

He laughed. “I needed to know if you’d quit. You were beaten from the start, you know. I set you up. And you never quit.”

The fatigue and frustration were almost too much. She started to say something, and felt her voice catch in her throat, looked quickly downward. To her surprise, he encircled her shoulders, and hugged her quickly. To her even greater surprise, she liked it.

“I’ve definitely got time for you, Jillian. Go on. Get dressed.”

She smiled uncertainly, and then fled toward the distant smell of steam and soap.

Chapter 4

Even her aching bones couldn’t distract Jillian from the excellence of the Rocky Mountain Center’s training table. Dinner was plentiful fresh fruit and vegetables, pasta and rice and chicken.

But despite the unity of purpose (everybody needed calories), there wasn’t a real air of camaraderie. Even here, the awful risks of their shared venture dampened high spirits.

Holly sat next to her, picking at her meal with mantislike grace. Despite the delicacy of her movements, food vanished from her plate with astonishing rapidity.

”Still sore?”

“Globally.” Jillian glared at a roasted thigh, mentally labeled it Osa and sank her teeth into it. “I think I’ve got a few ideas for the Ice Queen, next time around.”

“She was first alternate on the Scandinavian Trials last Olympiad, when she was only sixteen.”

“Slightly advanced, isn’t she?”

“One word for it. Bet she suckered you into talking to her.”

Jillian glowered, and Holly laughed heartily. “Yeah, I knew it. I heard some rumors about how she switched from Scandinavia to North America Agricorp so easily.”

Jillian searched the room until she found Osa, sitting in the midst of a group of husky young men and women, laughing, attacking her food ravenously.

“Rumors? I thought the Council recognized no national boundaries, and all that.”

“Baksheesh never hurts.”

Osa looked up, locked gazes with Jillian, and smiled expansively.

Jillian broke eye contact.

Holly laughed. “She’s beaten you already, you know. Got you hexed, but good.”