Free Smarter (an Ell Donsaii story #2) by Laurence Dahners Page A

involved a part of quantum theory that she was very familiar with because she’d worked with it some before coming up with her own theory. James interrupted, “How about some foosball? You ladies can gang up on me.”
    Emma shook her head, setting her tight brunette curls bouncing. “Just say no, Ellen. He’s really good and loves to lord it over the rest of us.”
    James said, “How about if I just use one hand?”
    Emma stood with a sigh, “Come on Ellen, he won’t rest until he’s beaten us. You mind playing goalie?”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t played much before.” Ell said, nervous because she hadn’t actually played foosball at all before and didn’t have any idea how well people normally performed at the game. She’d have to be careful not to exhibit her real hand-eye coordination for fear of freaking someone out. Nonetheless, she wanted to make friends and playing games would be part of the package. She got up and walked with them over to a table.
    Emma showed her the table and the two grips for the goalie player, advising “Ellen” that if she just positioned her players carefully and didn’t move them much, she’d do “OK.”
    James dropped a ball in and Emma started wildly striking at it with her forward players but the ball rolled past her to James’ back row players who quickly captured the ball and passed it up to his forward players where he stopped the ball and said, “Now Ellen, what you want to do is try to place your goalie players where they might stop my shot.”
    Ell didn’t like his condescending tone but wiggled her two rows of players around a little as if in response to his suggestion, placing them between his current location and the goal. She aggressively tamped down the excitement which was threatening to send her into her “zone.” “Like this?” she asked.
    “Well yeah, but,” James bumped the ball over to his middle player and hit it hard toward the opening in front of the goal that Ell’d left when she had positioned her players to block his side player.
    Ell saw what he was doing and instinctively moved her player to block, moving much faster than she should have. Much faster than any normal person could react, so fast that her man was there in plenty of time to block the shot and drive it the length of the table into James’ goal. In a panicked realization of what she’d just done she wildly bounced her players back and forth, spinning them as if it had been an accidental flailing move rather than the purposeful shot it had been.
    Emma crowed delightedly and lifted her hand for a “high five.” “Oh yeah! Way to go. We should just go sit down while James is eating that crow!”
    Ell slapped her hand against Emma’s saying, “I’m pretty lucky sometimes.” She watched James’ stunned expression out of the corner of her eye. They played more, Ell now careful to let most of James’ shots sail right past her. She blocked a few but no more driving them back to the other end!
     
    Ell found herself back at the table. As usual, Johnson had just walked out the door and gone home without saying goodbye to anyone. Emma and the handsome James seemed to be making eyes at each other and Ell was sitting between Roger and Jerry. Jerry had a great sense of humor and kept both of them in stitches with his analysis of the denizens of the bar, each of whom he proposed had an alter ego. “What about James?” Ell asked. “What’s his alter ego?”
    “Oh him!” Jerry waved his hand deprecatingly, “He’s actually a ‘male escort’ for one of the ‘services’ in town. Women needing a discreet man to accompany them to an old enemy’s wedding and such; he’s there to provide a little arm candy.”
    Ell snorted with mirth as she looked over at James’ aquiline blond good looks. “And Emma?”
    “My goodness, you didn’t know?” He leaned forward conspiratorially, “An industrial spy. No one’s sure yet just what country she’s spying for but be very