Hedgeson loved playing gravball. The feeling of freedom he got from being able to run across the walls and ceiling of the pitch – each of which had its own gravity field installed – was like nothing else. He was aware that the rest of his life – going to school, even mealtimes thanks to the preset times on the food dispenser – was regimented, and that was the way he liked it. Everything in its proper place. His friends and teammates felt the same, embracing the status quo. That was, except for Wellesbury, their captain. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it, but this gifted player always gave the impression of being somewhere else in his mind. On the pitch, he was totally in the zone, but off it… some of the things he said gave Hedgeson pause. He’d snap out of it, hopefully. Everyone knew that questioning things wasn’t a good idea.