Jeffrey A. Carver - Shapeshifter Finals

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Shapeshifter Finals

Jeffrey A. Carver

First published in WARRIORS OF BLOOD AND DREAM

edited by Roger Zelazny

Avon Books, 1995

free to download this story for your own enjoyment. You may print a copy, if you like, for your own use,

including sharing it with friends. You may not post it elsewhere on the web. Permission to distribute for

any except personal use is explicitly denied.

Shapeshifter Finals

The crowd roared as the first pair of wrestlers engaged in competition out on the center mat. "

Aww-riiiiii-choooo-guyyyys!" "HUGGA-HUGGGA-HUGGGA-HUGGGA!"

"Wickety-(psicry!)-wickety- (psicry!)-wickety-(psicry!)" Hog Donovan peeked over in the direction of

the match, but tried not to get drawn into watching it. Neither of the contestants in the ninety-three pound

class was human, and better he should keep his mind on his own upcoming match.

"Gaaiiee! Gaaiiee!" "Brackit-it-it-it-it-it-it-it-it!" "Wheeeooop-ooop-ooop!" The assortment of cries

from the stands was damned disconcerting, the crowd being over half extraterrestrials. It was the opening

bout, finals round, in the 57,463rd Annual Games of the IntraGalactic Interworld Multicultural Amateur

Wrestling League--and the first games ever to be hosted by Earth. Hog Donovan prayed that the human

fans could drown out all the ETs when he got to the mat himself. He was as nervous as a laboratory rat

on speed, and he was going to need all the psychological boost he could get.

Hog paced the warmup area in his tights and warmup jacket, trying to still the butterflies in his stomach. It

would be at least forty minutes yet before they called him to the mat, for the hundred thirty-eight pound

finals. An eternity! Hog threw himself into his warmup exercises and tried to blank out everything else.

Bye-bye baby, baby bye-bye... The refrain of a popular song repeated mercilessly in his head, warring

with the cheers of the crowd.

Hog grunted, working up a good sweat. Hog indeed! He was long and whiplike, and bore his nickname

only because his old heavyweight friend, Hermie "Harmin'" Harmon, had dubbed him "Hog" in retribution

for his jokes about Harmon's rhinolike neck. Those were the old days, but the name had stuck...

The crowd roared, and Hog was startled to realize that the first match was over--the victor a

mercurial-skinned creature from Tau Ceti. The next weight class was up, and--hey!--this was the only

other human finalist, a wiry little Brit named Johnnie Johnson, up against some sort of centipede from the

Vega asteroids.

Hog ducked through to the sidelines to yell encouragement. "Give 'im hell, Johnnie!" he hollered as the

Earthman trotted onto the mat. His voice was drowned out by a loud buzzing. Up in the stands, a large

contingent of centipede fans were rubbing their upper limbs together, en masse, cheering on their fellow

Vegan.

Hog suppressed a shudder as he watched Johnnie engage the centipede from a standing position. All

those legs. And they were so...insectlike. And quick. With a chitter and a blur of speed, the centipede

caught Johnnie's left ankle with several of its legs, and tripped him for a two-point takedown. The crowd

buzzed in appreciation.

"Get up! Keep moving!" Hog yelled.

Tap tap. Hog started at the rap on the top of his head, and turned to see Coach Tagget urging him away

from the sidelines. "But coach--"

"Hog, go warm up. Don't fret over Johnnie, you're just scaring yourself." Tagget rapped him on the skull

again. "Don't forget--"

"I know, I know, the brain is the most important muscle," Hog repeated by rote, as he turned back to the

warmup area.

"Think about your match. Think," Coach Tagget urged, as Hog resumed his stretches. After a moment,

satisfied with Hog's progress, the coach left to go watch Johnnie himself.

Think, right. Think about the fact that he was about to wrestle an alien named

Belduki-Elikitango-Hardart-Colloidisan, an Ektra shapechanger capable of assuming about a thousand

different multiworld multicultural body configurations. He was thinking about it, all right. And he was

having trouble keeping his knees from shaking.

Bye-bye baby, baby bye-bye...

He remembered how smug the Earth promoters had been when the IIMAWL rules committee had

offered to make terran rules the norm for this tournament, in honor of the hosting world. Of course, none

of the promoters had even thought about the fact that Earth's wrestlers would be competing against

sentient bugs, snakes, gorillas...and shapeshifters...except that they'd finally decreed a return to the more

modest, and protective, tights in place of skimpy singlets. In other respects, the referees' interpretation of

Earth's rules had turned out to be a tad subjective, to say the least.

"Johnnie--NO!"

The single shout from the Brit's coach was drowned out by a rising buzz from the crowd. Hog jumped

up, trying to see what was happening. The centipede buzz crescendoed. Hog ducked through an opening

in the sidelines crowd to get a better view.

Uh-oh. Johnnie was in big trouble. The centipede had him halfway onto his back, with about six legs

pushing his shoulders toward the mat. Hog knelt on the sidelines, twisting and arching sympathetically as

Johnnie struggled against the inexorable leverage of all those limbs. Johnnie's coach, a wiry little man, was

screaming, "Scoot out! Scoot out!" and making futile sweeping gestures with his arms.

Hog cupped his hands and screamed, "PULL HIS ANTENNAS! PULL HIS ANTENNAS!"

The match seemed to freeze abruptly, as the centipede cocked its head and glared across the mat at Hog

with all four eyes. Its hairy antennas bristled. Hog gulped, regretting his impulsive yell. The thing looked

as if it might just abandon the match and come on over and stomp him for his remark. It appeared to

have completely forgotten its opponent.

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