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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1698905
Winning the Olympics should have been the star of his career. Then the invitation.
The Diqini



Jim had never been more proud of himself in his life.  Standing on the high podium for the Summer Olympics, 2220, he felt that all of the training and pain were worth it as the gold medal slipped around his neck.

After the ceremonies, Jim smiled broadly as he walked over to Tony, his coach. 

“Well, Jim, you are now officially the fastest man in the world.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Tony.  You know that, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re the one that worked for it.  Congrats.”  Tony started to walk back to the USA dressing room, then turned back to face Jim again.  “Say, did you hear that there’s going to be an announcement at the closing ceremonies?  All of the golds and silvers are supposed to be there; something to do with the Diqini.”

Jim shuddered.  The Diqini had just appeared about 6 years ago.  Their people were galactic travelers, being possessed of a drive that had the scientists going crazy.  Their ships were diverse, from the fast, sleek little scouts all the way up to the huge Clan Ships, which were supposed to be self sufficient, needing nothing from the worlds they visited.

Jim had seen pictures of them in the past.  Not bad, basically human-like; just enough different to be, well, wrong.  Their eyes were just a bit too far apart, almost like a bird’s.  Ear holes flush with the skull with little pieces of skin fluttering over them and long, slender fingers with an extra joint.  Creepy.  Since he’d come to the Olympics, he’d seen several, although at a distance.  He remembered reading that they were sports enthusiasts.  He guessed that was why there were so many of them in the stands.  He looked back at Tony’s questioning eyes and shrugged.

“Then, as the fastest man in the world, I guess I’ll have to be there,” he replied sardonically.  “I’ll let you know what it’s about.”

The next day, Jim, along with about a hundred other athletes gathered in the stadium for the special announcement.  To his surprise, it wasn’t an official who took the microphone, but a member of the Diqini.  It spoke in a musical, rolling voice which was almost mesmerizing.  The stadium was silent, except for that magical voice.  Afterwards, Jim could not remember how long the alien had spoken, or exactly what it’s words had been.  He walked back to the hotel where his team was staying and went directly to Tony’s room.

“So?  What was all the excitement about?” Tony said.

“We, all the 1st and 2nd place winners, have been invited back to the world where the Diqini go when they aren’t traveling.  They want us to teach them our human sports.”

“What?  You’re kidding, right?”  At Jim’s shake of his head, Tony went on.  “Teach them human sports?  So why you?  You’re a runner.  Tell them to lean really far forward, then move their feet as fast as they can to keep up with their heads.  Lesson over.  You’re not really going to go, are you?”

Jim was suddenly furious with his old friend.  “I am going.  We all are.  This is the chance of a lifetime.  If you don’t like it, then it’s just too bad.”  With that, he left and went back to his own room.  Packing up his belongings took no time at all.  He wouldn’t need anything extra; the Diqini had explained that they would be in some sort of stasis field for the actual trip. 

Jim grabbed his filled bag and joined the line of others returning to the stadium.

*  *  *  *  *


Somewhat stiff from the journey, Jim worked on slow stretches, trying to get his muscles loosened back up.  Everyone had been awakened this morning.  Could it actually be ‘morning’ when there wasn’t a sun to rise and no planet for it to not-rise over, Jim wondered.  Whatever.  He went back to his stretches, then ran in place for awhile, until he felt loose enough to do a cool-down.  Tired already, he stretched out on the bunk and tried to fall asleep, anxious for the next day to arrive.  Imagine!  Walking, and running, on a new world, sharing his expertise with a different race.  While he was contemplating the possibilities, he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Each of the athletes had his own escort, showing him around the city.  Jim’s took him to a large open area, just outside the city.  It looked to be just a field, with a soft carpet of pale pink mossy-looking vegetation.  Beyond the field was what appeared to be a forest of strangely twisted blue trees.  Jim’s escort stopped him at the edge of the pink field and said, “We wait now.”

Over the next twenty minutes or so, Jim watched as alien after alien formed a long line at the very edge of the field.  Each one carried a hollow tube; some short, some longer.  Finally, the escort looked at Jim a said, “We begin, soon.”

Jim, who had been bored awaiting the aliens to arrive, had already done his warm-ups, and felt ready for anything.  “What do I do?”

“You are a runner, run.”

“There’s no track.  Where do you want me to run at?”

The escort said nothing, only pointed towards the blue trees in the distance. 

Confused, Jim looked at the trees, then back to the escort.  “I don’t get it.  You brought me here because your people love sports, right?”  At the escort’s nod, he continued.  “So I just run?  Why?”

At that, the escort smiled, his thin lips stretching over ominously sharp, pointed teeth.  “After spending time with your people, we found that our races have something in common.”  Showing Jim a picture of the Olympic medal ceremony and another of a billboard for McDiamond's, he continued.  “We both like fast food.  Now run!”


Count: 978
Writer's Cramp Prompt: Write about intergalactic fast food.
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