The Tristorians want me to join their bowling team? I gaped at Dino. “Is that even possible? I’m not a Tristorian. And how did they find out I would be available?” Bowling in the Final—I’d never imagined the possibility. I had a hard time containing my excitement.

“The Tristorians have the bowling officials and diplomats in a frenzy with their request. And I have been asked to join in the decision making.” Dino clasped his hands together.

“And, as for how the Tristorians knew you were free, I called some diplomats after the detectives took Brian away because I knew you had solved all your problems.”

“Well, we still have some loose ends to tie up. For example, who was Brian’s Rheinon contact?”

“I am trying to find out,” said Dino. “There is some reluctance to answer my inquiries—even from Neer E Know, my son.”

“The security chief is your son?”

“Yes, with my third partner.”

“I see.” This shed a whole new light on particular things. “Well, I’m going home to change. Call me when a decision has been made.”

My thoughts tumbled over one another on my drive home. After I’d changed, I explained the situation to my mother.

“Do you want to be on the Tristorian bowling team?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I feel badly for their team, but I’m not Tristorian, so I really shouldn’t be a part of it. However, I would love to be part of the competition.” I heard myself babbling excitedly but couldn’t seem to stop. “On the downside, I’m rusty. I haven’t bowled since the murder of Keepe Style. What good would I be to them?”

Mom smiled. “What I’m hearing is that you would love to bowl with them. Let me have Ambassador Dino’s number; I want to talk to him.”

Surprised, I complied. While Mom went into the kitchen to make her call, I closed my eyes and leaned back on the sofa. The next thing I knew, my mother was shaking my shoulder.

“Tari, wake up.”

“Huh? Sorry, I don’t know why I fell asleep.”

“Something to do with murders and poisonings?” she suggested. “You must be exhausted.”

I sat up slowly and smiled. “At least it’s all over with and I can relax.” My mind began to engage. “What’s the news from Dino?”

“Everything’s been arranged. You’re now part of the Tristorian team. And they want you over at Revolutions so you and your new team can get some practice time together. Dino will meet you there. And Inspector Hayden knows what’s going on.”

“This is fantastic! Thanks for making it work. Now, where is my bowling bag?” It took me a few minutes to remember where I’d stuck it. I hadn’t needed it in days, and I wasn’t the most organized person at home.

“By the way, remind me to tell you later about the Itlans and how they’ve decided I’m their Goddess of Intelligence,” I said.

“You’ll have plenty of time to tell me—I’m going to Revolutions with you. Dino and I need to have a chat.”

Although surprised by her statements, I didn’t think too much about them.

Entering Revolutions, I encountered Smith. He sported a wide grin. “You get to bowl after all,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders.

“How did you find out so fast?” Which was a silly question, there’s nothing speedier than gossip.

“Nothing escapes me. But everyone is waiting for you, so be on your way. I’ll be up shortly.” I guessed Smith wanted to watch our practice.

Quite a number of beings had gathered on the second floor: Tristorian and Bremen bowlers, of course; the bowling officials huddled in a group; and a few diplomats also milled about.

Dino approached. “Tari, please put down your bowling bag,” Then he whispered in my ear. “The Tristorians have an announcement to make, and I want you to look stunned and pleased.”

“Dino?” What is he talking about?

“Everything will be fine. Just be your normal poised self.” Dino took me over to the Tristorian ambassador, Gyle Stark, and the Tristorian bowlers.

After Dino got everyone’s attention, Ambassador Gyle Stark spoke. “Detective Sergeant Dominion, on behalf of the people of Tristor, I would like to offer you Tristorian citizenship. You have done much for our people, and we would like to honor you.”

The room rang with applause and alien equivalents.

Ambassador Stark helped me into a shiny vest, and whispered, “This is where you say Thank you. I am honored, and vigorously shake my hand.”

I did everything he told me to do. A good thing the ambassadors guided me; I swam in a state of shock—pleasant shock—but shock nonetheless.

“Now, as Ms. Dominion the detective would say, let us get on with it. In other words, get some practicing done. Tomorrow is very important,” said Ambassador Stark.

With cheers—I think they were cheers—the Tristorians welcomed me to their team. I spent the next two hours trying to get my form back midst encouraging words from Mom, Dino, Jack, Chrissy, and just about everyone else I knew.

Apparently, running around finding murderers had kept me from being terribly rusty. And bowling with the Tristorians felt comfortable. It turned out my shiny new vest matched the Tristorians’ bowling vests. Who would have thought?

“Had a good day?” asked my mother, when my practice ended and we returned home. We sat in our living room with glasses of wine.

“Most excellent and unbelievable! In my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined what happened today. I’m now officially an alien and bowling in the final of the Intergalactic Bowling Competition.” It dawned on me that becoming an alien citizen would be a first in the BRITE Alliance—such an achievement!

“Anything you’re sad about?” my mother asked deliberately. She knew what I needed to discuss.

“Yes. Brian, of course. I gather you talked to Harrison and the others.”

She nodded.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming. Brian acted strange lately.”

“It was murder and poisoning. Why would you see it coming?”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t beat myself up about it, but he was my partner, Mom. He even arranged for me to get hit on the head. I know he said he did these things for money, but I still find it hard to believe. I feel so betrayed. And what about his poor wife, Suze, and their unborn child?” My calmness started to wash away.

“Do you think Suze knew anything about what Brian was doing?”

“No, I don’t. She even commented to me about how I was keeping him busy talking to diplomats. And she sounded wistful about him being so busy.” That’s when I should have caught on, I admonished myself.

“I’ll have a talk with Suze. I should be able to fathom her involvement, if there is any. Perhaps I can find a pro bono lawyer for Brian. Suze will have a lot to deal with.”

“I was thinking maybe we could organize some fund raisers for her.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Now, finish up your wine and go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow. By the way, Jack seems like a nice fellow.”

Mothers were always right, at least about getting some rest. I would reflect upon her statement about Jack another day.

* * * *

The next day dawned with the normal Vancouver drizzle coming down, but the rain didn’t dampen my spirits. In fact, I had trouble walking normally. I didn’t realize this until Mom put her hand on my shoulder on our walk in from the parking lot, reminding me to calm down and focus.

Because Revolutions had been advised by the bowling officials to restrict the entrance of spectators until all bowlers had arrived, we encountered a long line up as we walked toward the entrance.

We found Harrison and Jack outside the entrance doors studying the waiting crowd.

“What’s so intriguing?” I asked.

“Take a look. See if you see what we see,” said Harrison.

I turned and looked at the crowd. No wonder they were focused on the line up—everyone carried a Rheinon beverage bag.

“Some smart entrepreneur has created a best-seller, I see,” I said.

“Maybe so,” said Jack, “but security is an issue.”

He had a good point.

“I’m not involved with security today but, if I were, I would institute a search of bags before anyone is allowed entry—not that I’m telling you what to do.”

They both grinned.

I took another good look at the line up. “By the way, my vibes are also telling me this is troubling. A little too convenient.”

Although bowling came first today, I couldn’t shrug off my security concerns. “Use Mounties to do the searches. Make it a large group to show how serious you are. And I would suggest the two of you be on guard for the bowlers.” I wasn’t worried—much.

They both nodded.

“Good luck, Sarge,” said Harrison as Mom and I continued on our way.

The final round would consist of three sessions of three games each—a long day but one necessary to determine the outcome.

It shouldn’t have taken long to reach the second floor. However, everyone wanted to talk to me and wish me luck before the first round started.

Eventually, Harrison and Jack arrived after their security duty, and took it upon themselves to restrict interruptions to the teams. Their support gladdened me. They did allow one alien to approach, though.

“Ambassador Takka, how nice to see you,” I said.

“I know you need to concentrate, Detective Sergeant, but I would like to present you with this Itlan token of appreciation.” He handed me something.

Unclear as to what it was, I murmured my thanks. “The followers of the Goddess of Intelligence wish you great luck today.” At that point, he waved his appendage to the seating gallery, and the Itlans stood up and bowed.

“Please thank all the Itlans for me,” I said. “I must join my team now.”

“I understand,” said Takka, and he walked away.

“Goddess of Intelligence?” asked Jack. He didn’t try to hold back his grin.

“Ask Harrison. I need to concentrate on my bowling.” Holy crap, the label’s stuck to me now, I lamented as I walked over to the Tristorian team, my new team. We did a few warm up throws and then the first trio of games began. Since the final consisted of only two teams, we bowled on adjacent lanes—alternating between lanes as required. That way no team would have an advantage on a particular lane.

A lot of strikes occurred, but also more misses from both teams than I’d expected. The first three games ended with the Bremen team slightly ahead on total pins.

I ate with my teammates during the lunch break—strategy ruled the discussion. Then I joined my mother, Harrison, Jack, Dino, and Smith for the remainder of our first break.

“Looks pretty close,” said Harrison.

“Yes, it certainly is. But that’s what you should expect at high level tournaments. These are all excellent bowlers, and at the top of their form—or they wouldn’t be here.”

“Your bowling seems okay,” said Jack.

“I’m holding my own. Although, it’s a little disconcerting to try and stay out of the way of your teammates’ four legs.”

“They certainly have an interesting approach,” said my mother. She noticed confusion on a few faces so she added, “Approach is your footwork leading up to throwing the bowling ball. And with four legs, the Tristorian approach is out-of-this-world.” The moment lightened.

“Okay. I’d better go back and warm-up for the second part. Keep cheering, and cheer louder than my Itlan fan base. It’ll rev them up.” Although, they didn’t appear to need any prodding.

The second of our three sessions proceeded like the first. Amazingly, by the end of the sixth game, only fifteen pins separated the teams, with the Bremen ahead.

“Tari, you need to eat,” said Mom during our mid- afternoon meal break, before the last three games started.

“Yes, Mother,” I said, and my human tablemates all laughed. “I can’t eat too much right now. A large meal could make me sluggish, and I need to be in top form. But after this is over, look out food.”

My comment surprised no one.

“All kidding aside, how is the bowling going? It seems awfully close, but I’m fairly ignorant about the whole thing,” said Jack.

“It is close—closer than I thought it would be. The Bremen are incredible bowlers. The Tristorians are too, but the Bremen seem to have an affinity for reading the lanes,” I said.

“What does that mean?” said Harrison, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if you saw a strange machine moving down each lane before we started each session today. What that machine does is put oil on the lanes. There are many patterns it can use. It’s up to the bowlers to figure out how the lanes have been prepared.”

“Does this oil pattern affect how the bowling balls perform?” said Jack.

“Definitely. And as the games progress, the oil moves around, or wears away, depending on how the balls are thrown. You probably saw the bowlers wiping down their balls before throwing them. The balls react dynamically differently as the games proceed. The Bremen are masters at reading the lanes.”

“You guys must be pretty good too, or you wouldn’t be here,” said Harrison.

“Not bad. After all, oil is a human addition to the bowling experience. The aliens had never previously altered their lanes. And, of course, the Tristorians and Bremen throw their balls in such different manners they affect the lanes in ways the other teams are not used to.”

“Why did oiling the lanes get added to the BRITE competition?” asked Harrison.

“I don’t really know. Perhaps they wanted to add something human,” I said.

Mom and I glanced at each other and shrugged—it was something we’d never considered.

“What about your bowling style?” asked Jack.

“I confuse everyone—which is not a bad thing.” We all laughed.

I shrugged my shoulders to relax them. “I need to get back. I have something I want to discuss with my teammates.” A tactic that might give us an advantage had popped into my mind.

A chorus of good lucks followed me as I returned to the lanes.

After I explained my theory to my teammates, we had a short discussion. They believed I had a valid point. I wanted them to throw their balls in such a way that would disrupt the reading of the lanes by the Bremen. A long shot that would be difficult to pull off, but the Tristorians were amenable to giving it a try.

So we sweated over the last three games—at least I did. I had no idea if Tristorians even had sweat. The competition came down to the last frame—the last throws for each team.

We needed our last bowler, Taga Roin, to get more pins than the Bremen’s last bowler. The Bremen went first and missed his strike. Then Taga Roin got up to throw his ball. He deliberated for the longest time, and then he threw his ball.

It was a strike! The Tristorians, with a little help from me, had won the Intergalactic Bowling Competition. Much jubilation ensued. Surrounded by my human cheering squad and, of course, the Itlans, I hugged everyone in sight.

Overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, I once again congratulated my teammates then slumped in a chair, exhaustion threatening to claim me.

“Tari, this is a wonderful outcome. How are you feeling?” asked Dino.

“Happy, I think. It’s beyond my comprehension, at the moment. Probably because I’m tired from the recent murder investigations.”

“Go home and rest for a bit. The Rheinon Embassy has reserved The Peak for the evening. I’ve invited everyone involved with the competition and, of course, your mother. Join me for a banquet in honor of the Tristorian bowling team.” said Dino.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll see you later.”

Mom and I went home and showered and changed. I tried to have a quick power nap, but sleep eluded me.