No Contest

“Maybe not.” The silence was a potent thing until Mark asked, “Does that make me unfit for CURE?” Smith answered without hesitation, as if he had already considered this very point. “I would have said yes once.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is an answer.”

Mark thought about it and he nodded.

“Mark, I will admit to you that Ms. Slate is just one more example of my loss of control. I feel as if this organization is on the verge of flying apart. Remo is rebelling like a hormonal thirteen-year-old, and suddenly makes it known that he has a father and two children who know something of this organization—which is intolerable. Chiun has as good as threatened to have my head if I approach them. Still, I can’t sit back and ignore the security threat they represent. There’s Ms. Slate, who is dropped in our laps and manages to lay bare the nature of this organization simply because she has happened to read her family journals and make a few erudite conclusions. Complicating all of this, there is my own nagging need to determine what or who or how CURE was used to make all this happen.”

Smith ran out of steam, then he perked up when he saw the raw news feed on his computer screen. In Rio de Janeiro, the people were in the streets.

The president of Brazil stepped onto the platform, shouting in Portuguese and shaking his fist.

“The Extreme Sports Network has a proved history of cheating, and the United States government condones it,” said the bored voice-over of the translator. “This is yet another example of ugly America forcing the world to accede to its dominance. In this we witness the next phase in U.S. unilateralism and it will not be tolerated.”

The Brazilian president was beating the podium with his fist, his face shining with sweat, while the English dubbing sounded like the translator was reading from an insurance policy.

“Now, the United States assassinates the Subway Surfing Champion of Brazil. They, expletive, stole the prize from us. We demand, uh, we demand the United States officially recognize Antonio Genoino as the winner of the Pro Train Surf. Brazil demands that the United States compensate the family of Mr. Genoino and compensate the government of Brazil for the loss of our national treasure, in addition to turning over the prize purse to the government of Brazil for the creation of an Antonio Genoino museum.”

Smith pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“He’s not serious?” Mark Howard asked.

“He’ll get the dollars. With U.S. international relations in a political tar pit, I assume we’ll pay off the Brazilians in the form of rain-forest-protection subsidies, which means the government can use its own rainforest funds elsewhere.”

“Maybe the Brazilian government did this, then, for the cash?”

Smith nodded. “If the events in California were unique I would consider the possibility, but we’ve been watching this pattern for months, and most of the events are unrelated to the Brazilians. But there are many nations that share the Brazilian president’s disdain. Every nation that sees itself disadvantaged by the U.S. is crying foul. Athletics is big money and high-profile.”

He brought up a long list of sporting events on the v screen beneath his desktop glass, starting with an African mountain-climbing race eighteen months ago. Twin teams of contestants were air-dropped into some of the most unexplored wilderness left on the continent, inhabited by warring tribes who were known to kill outsiders on site. A military contractor got lots of promotion for his new stealth helicopter by handling the rotation of cameramen, who were shooting the teams for Shaft, the new “real man” cable network. The teams were on opposite sides of the mountain, and yet the European team was sabotaged by somebody. Very little physical evidence was retrieved, but the bodies of the dead climbers were returned home. One of them was scalded. The surviving climbers reported a burst of steam just before the fall.

The European survivors made it to the summit two days after the North Americans.

Other events on the list might, or might not, have been the result of sabotage. The extreme-sports trend killed a lot of people, just by its very nature. The games were dangerous, and they had to evolve constantly to keep their viewers interested. They had to be bigger and more deadly all the time. There was also the problem of the underskilled participants, who often went into extreme sports because they couldn’t make the cut in traditional professional sports.

Then Extreme Sports Network launched as a spin-off of Shaft Network For Real Men. They funded existing events and developed their own, and their viewership increased with every fatal accident.

“If ESN is not the perpetrator, who benefits?” Smith mused.

“No one else benefits,” Mark Howard assured him. “We’ve been through this. We’ve looked everywhere.”