No Contest

“That’s the Moat,” the producer said with an ear-to-ear grin. “Legal made us put it in. Got to look like we have safety measures in place.”

“We’re pros,” Dee said. “We can take a fall from a train, dude. It’s what we do. This isn’t gonna help.”

The producer shrugged. “It was either a catcher like this or some sort of netting or cushions, which would make you all look like a bunch of pussies.”

So Dee didn’t argue. The competition began. He made it through the first few elimination rounds, which were tough on all the surfers. Nobody was used to this kind of rail. It was the most challenging track ever train-surfed, and competitors were falling off all over the place. Lots of bones broke in the Moat. With every round of the contest, the speed of the train increased, and when they entered the finals the speed became deadly.

Antonio the Terrible lost his footing at the first sharp turn, called Hanged Man’s Curve. Dee thought he leaned into the turn just right, but his feet went out from under him at the apex of the curve. He flew off the train like a rocket and slammed into the Moat at one of the support braces. His impact cracked the wood-like plate glass, but the steel reinforcing rods held it in place. The coroner said there were at least fourteen major bones broken inside Antonio the Terrible’s body—not counting multiple spinal cord fractures.

Extreme Sports Network made the most of the delay. They stayed live, reporting every few minutes on the latest developments and replaying video of the catastrophe twenty times an hour. Abbreviated video clips were released to news networks around the world, which channeled more viewers to ESN. By afternoon, as the on-site investigation wrapped up, the network was registering its highest viewership ever—and the next contestant was ready to compete.

Francis the Fran Man commented briefly on the sad loss of his longtime friend and professional rival Antonio the Terrible. He told the ESN anchor that, God forbid, should he die while competing, he would certainly want the glorious game to continue.

After which he promptly died.

The Fran Man had to have been overcompensating. He leaned less on Hanged Man’s Curve and nearly fell headlong at the same spot Tony had died, but the Fran Man held his balance with a lot of wild arm waving. At the second sharp curve on the track, the Forty-five Degrees of Doom, he leaned too far. He lost his balance. His feet flew up, and the Fran Man slithered over the edge of the passenger train car. He pushed away from the car; one of the first tricks you learned as a train surfer was to get clear of the train if you fell. He started to roll into the fall, but the fall was already over. The speed and sharpness of the curve basically slingshot the Fran Man into the plywood. His head battered through the wood so far that his upper body penetrated.

“At this point, Fran’s body mass loses its forward momentum,” the ESN anchor explained during his three dozen slow-motion analyses of the accident. “His body weight is pretty evenly balanced between the two sides of the catch basin wall, so gravity drags him down onto the broken wood. Fran is still struggling to get his hands free, but he is literally being knifed open by no less than twenty sharp wooden splinters. Wow—now, that’s an extreme way to die!”

Impromptu protests began, across the country after ESN announced that it would continue the high-speed finals the next day, despite the two fatal accidents. A coalition of media conglomerates hurriedly asked for an emergency injunction against ESN.

“In the interest of public safety, we cannot in good conscience allow the reputation of professional sports to be sullied by this reckless upstart network. It would be irresponsible of us as a broadcasting community to allow viewers to see barbaric and violent activity. We broadcasters want to be known for safe, family-oriented sports programs such as professional football and professional baseball.”

The judges didn’t side with the networks, noting that every member of the coalition was threatened with large revenue losses when they lost viewership and dipped below the audience they had promised their advertisers.

A middle-of-the-night meeting between the networks and the governor of California was unproductive.

“I don’t haff duh audority to stop dis contest,” the governor said sleepily. “Besides, why would I want to?”

“It’s anticompetitive,” one of the lawyers explained. “They are exploiting man’s fascination with the grotesque.”

“So call your guhberment rebresendadives. They can pass legislajhun. Leave me oud of it.”

“The governor has refused to terminate the activity of these barbarians,” the coalition lawyer told the media. “It is a sad day for civilization.”