Special Guest, Chapter One

The Nottingham City Transport shuttle lowered its ramp and Mini-Flash Juniper descended, tall and fair in her uniform tunic with head held high. 4-H-N was waiting for her at the Flash Club Headquarters docking-port.

They curtsied to each other and Mini-Flash Juniper was good, thought 4-H-N, very good. Better even than she’d been at the Arch of Titus awards ceremony. 4-H-N however was still in the game, and from under her eyelashes she was scrutinizing Juniper’s technique rigorously enough to tell. The secret to a perfect curtsey was what you withheld, not what you let show. There was no doubt whatsoever Mini-Flash Juniper knew that, but 4-H-N didn’t think any independent adjudicator could have accused her of not knowing it too.

The duo bobbed upright again and resettled their tunic-skirts.

“One thing I’ll just warn you about before the match,” said 4-H-N. “You’re going to find some of our boys a bit competitive.”

Mini-Flash Juniper acknowledged this, then repaired immediately to the girls’ changing-room with her travelling-bag in hand.

Funny, thought 4-H-N, that she hadn’t even known Juniper’s name when they’d both been part of that most celebrated rescue operation at Titus. Or Sue’s, for that matter. She also had to keep reminding herself Juniper knew nothing of her own involvement at Limb Four, even though 4-H-N had learned a good deal about her at that time. All this notwithstanding however, today The Flash Club required 4-H-N’s diplomatic utmost. Not that she’d even realised there was a rota for such things, or that she was top of it this quarter-phase.

Out stepped Mini-Flash Juniper again, wearing an identical tunic and boots to those in which she’d arrived. The girls set off for the gymnasium together.

“Some incursion, huh?” began 4-H-N. “Can’t believe that’s two now. I don’t know what you must think of us. Were you there?”

“My friend was,” Mini-Flash Juniper replied. “Mini-Flash Splitsville, I think you’ve met her?”

4-H-N had to suppress an undiplomatic snort, although privately she supposed the incursion in that case must have been all suitably…hip and happening and trendy and it was no good, she couldn’t do it like Mini-Flash Splitsville did. Well, she didn’t run people over either, that was another difference. Thank the two moons it was this one of the trio 4-H-N had been charged with. It was beyond her how one girl ended up with as many enemies as she had.

“The Flash Club really appreciates your doing this,” was what 4-H-N said instead.

“I’m actually the only one of Joe’s who participated in the escape,” Mini-Flash Juniper pointed out, as if she’d read 4-H-N’s mind. The Special Program had a way of doing that. “Splitsville and Flashshadow joined him when we were still at liberty to do so.”

“And your asylum in Nottingham is something we respect,” 4-H-N assured her. “I know Toothfire’s denied all knowledge of the Vernderernders who attacked, but this is our way of saying we do too. The Alliance recognizes Nottingham. Closer ties between us are what we need to build right now.”

4-H-N said it like she meant it, because she did. Even taking all in all everything to do with Joe, she knew it was what the galaxy needed.

A welcoming din greeted the girls as they entered the arena. 4-H-N led the way through brilliant spotlights to centre-court, where was to be found a small deputation.

“Mini-Flash Juniper, meet Flashsatsumas,” commenced 4-H-N.

Flashsatsumas smiled shyly out from beneath his unruly tousles of purple.

“The most powerful male Mini-Flash we have,” 4-H-N went on, for Juniper’s benefit and that of the Flash Club press department who were here to film this publicity. She indicated the orange containment-suit Flashsatsumas wore, replete with round inflatable compartments. “Planning a traditional Flashball friendly took some thought when the Special Program was involved, but this rare specimen of boyhood seemed to me the solution. So, to paraphrase an expression used on my planet, may the best Mini-Flash win!”

The crowd fairly erupted at that. 4-H-N had to admit, she’d not been expecting quite such numbers. From the sounds of it the darkened stands were jam-packed, and 4-H-N wasn’t at all sure their away-player was comfortable with so much wolf-whistling.

“Let’s settle down,” chuckled Flashlight, who was one of the senior Mini-Flashes assembled around Flashsatsumas.

4-H-N wanted to sigh. Oldest, a born leader, and a stickler for Flash Club standards. Had she followed a more terrestrial path in life, reflected 4-H-N, what a woefully prosaic university student she’d have made. The freshman with a crush on the captain of the rugby team. Even so, she couldn’t resist giving her ponytail a quick check for bounce.

He was right too. Though no intellectual giant, Flashlight understood this sort of thing just fine. A cheer for the visitor was indeed indicated. 4-H-N opened her mouth –

“First boy-girl tie in Mini-Flash history!” Flashbee chimed in. “Nottingham, wasn’t it?”

Trust Mr. Statistics. The spectators loved that. Mini-Flash Juniper clearly didn’t.

“Then it’s only proper The Flash Club brings home the first gender’s first ever victory!” declaimed Flashslip, who was one of Flashsatsumas’s best friends. The former’s pronouncement prompted much good-natured jostling of the latter, during which Flashsatsumas beamed gamesome readiness through his over-foliated fringe.

Then the boys, still grinning to a man, fell silent and looked expectantly to their guest.

“I shan’t play him,” said Mini-Flash Juniper.

In all her extensive researches 4-H-N had seen little to convince her there was any such thing as Special Program humour, but even so she kept her fingers crossed she’d stumbled on another precedent, right up until Mini-Flash Juniper continued: “He’s going to try too hard to keep up with me and overheat in his containment-suit, injuring himself.”

“I see, and you’ve decided this in advance, have you?” inquired Flashslip.

They did sometimes know, though. That much 4-H-N had seen. They were aware whenever one of their own was in danger, and that didn’t always stop with other members of the Special Program. 4-H-N remembered what Sue had told her, the very first time they talked. Mini-Flash Juniper had been among those who’d known about the ink-bottle before it happened. According to Sue, that was what had spurred them to flee Headquarters in the first place.

“Guys,” 4-H-N therefore began.

“He may well be uncommonly potent for a boy,” Mini-Flash Juniper protested, over her. “The theory itself was sound. But you’re forgetting I’m Special Program.”

Even Flashlight by now had his hands on his hips.

“If you’re only going to air Joe’s notions then maybe you shouldn’t have come,” he told her shortly. “You’re back with The Flash Club now. We’re not going to treat you as if you’ve some sort of cosmic significance.”

“I’ve noticed that,” returned Mini-Flash Juniper. “I’d likely do better to look for my kind rounded up into stasis-chambers.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Flashbee cried. “No-one sprang out to recapture you the minute you set foot on the grounds!”

“Guys,” interjected 4-H-N again.

“It’s not about my ambassadorial status, it’s about who’s ready for Flashball at the level I play,” Mini-Flash Juniper declared. “Your small friend here is not.”

Juniper was by some distance taller than Flashsatsumas, but “small” from a girl in beige to a boy in colours wasn’t calculated to soothe.

“Sounds to me like Nottingham’s second gender’s so scared of another dead heat that they’re making excuses!” blurted Flashsatsumas indignantly.

Oh jeez, thought 4-H-N. Nor was she disappointed.

“It’s for your sake that I don’t serve out to you!” retorted Mini-Flash Juniper, in a voice that could have shattered glass. “Do you think this is easy for me? Knowing as I do the way your nasty little boyish minds work? I can hear the furtive fabrications even now. The Special Program didn’t dare. The Special Program’s not as special as we’ve been led to believe. This, when I could take on every senior male in the place at once, and leave the lot of you sniffling!”

It had somehow turned into Kitty on Villanelle’s first day. As she’d done then, 4-H-N physically interposed herself.

“Guys,” she repeated, more forcibly than before, hoping the third time would be the charm. “Maybe Mini-Flash Juniper’s right that this wasn’t such a good idea. But I’m sure there are all sorts of other fun activities she and Flashsatsumas could get up to, in the same spirit of co-operation and mutual support between our respective bodies. Right?”

It was optimistic to the point of being a plea. “Fine,” said Flashsatsumas, speaking from the opposite end of the sweetness scale to that occupied by his namesake. “She can do my homework for me if she likes.”

“In that case I shall go and change,” responded Mini-Flash Juniper superbly. “And I can only hope this arguing doesn’t make me forget to put any clothes on at all.”

She whipped round, her straight shining tresses and tunic-skirts one magnificent swish, and strode out under the stadium lights with her nose well in the air. Male Mini-Flash eyes burned after her, from the company around 4-H-N, and she guessed most of the seating too. Juniper’s parting shot probably hadn’t been meant as such. 4-H-N knew how absent-minded the Special Program were about modesty, and about appropriate topics for conversation. She doubted however it would do much good telling that to her companions just now. After so many perceived stabs at their other vulnerabilities, you couldn’t really blame them. 4-H-N felt it even despite never having been a boy herself, in Mini-Flash Juniper’s deliberate measured step, the haughty carriage of her splendid head, the strong bare legs and the broad bumping tunic-back behind her. She’d left little choice over what to picture, and at that game there’d never yet been a boy-girl tie in this or any galaxy.

“OK, so I’m pleased with how that went,” said 4-H-N.

TO BE CONTINUED