by Dan Thomas
Max frowned. “What about the other guys?”
“The hope is they’ll get blown to pieces, but I expect they’ll be recognized, too, most try to stay on the good side of places like this, makes things a lot easier.”
“Right.” Max looked back over his shoulder, the wind whipping his hair around his face. He could just make out the lights on the outline of the cruiser speeding after them, kicking out dust behind it as it skimmed over the ground. “What are they even after you for?”
Jag remained silent, looking ahead as the city grew rapidly closer. There was no sign of Jag slowing the bike down, and they were heading straight for the metropolis.
“What are you doing?” Max yelled. He could now see the individual buildings, the lights coming from streetlamps, or from inside lit rooms.
“I’m handling a situation.” Jaguwar gasped as the wind robbed him of breath. He pressed a button on the small control panel attached to the front of the bike, and a map appeared on the windshield, overlaying the view through it. “I’ve managed to code an onboard map that updates dynamically and can plot routes. See here.” Jag pointed with one hand at the 3D holographic map of the city, there were several highlighted lines weaving in between what looked like buildings. “These are the alleys the bike can fit down. I can pick one that’s too narrow for them to follow if they make it into the city.”
Max cast a glance behind him looking for them. The menacing shadow gliding along the ground was practically underneath them. Although the bike was high in the air, there wasn’t a lot of distance anymore. “Who are they?” Max had come to Gyromeda for Jag’s help. He certainly hadn’t expected to get himself caught up in a turf war. Or whatever it was Jag was involved in.
“People who don’t know how to quit!” Jag pushed the bike down, coming low toward the high wall surrounding the tightly packed buildings within.
There was the sound of an explosion behind them. Max looked behind to see something flying toward them from the direction of the cruiser.
“I think they’ve fired a missile at us!” Max called, turning back just as they raced over the wall.
Jag glanced over his shoulder past Max. “That’s not a missile.”
Looking down, Max could see groups of robots and people patrolling up and down the tops of the walls in between large turrets. Some looked up at them as they flew over. Past the walls was an area of empty space before the buildings started, which was also being patrolled.
They cleared the empty area in seconds, Jag guiding them between a row of tall high-rise buildings.
Max turned back again, seeing what was chasing them. It was a rounded pod-like vehicle, painted dark orange with wide black tinted glass on the front. And it was moving fast.
The bike lurched left, Max desperately grasped on while the howling wind tried to rip him from his seat as Jag took a hard turn, narrowly avoiding clipping the corner of a building. Just as the bike righted itself, he swung it right, shooting down another street.
Max craned his neck to keep an eye on the pod which was following their every move.
“It’s gaining on us!” Max looked back over Jag’s shoulder to see a large transport vehicle flying straight for them. “Shit!”
He felt his stomach hit his neck as Jag pushed the bike down underneath the much larger carrier, then tilted the bike almost vertically upward as they came out the other side, the hover element on the bottom of the bike slowing them down as Jag pushed the throttle, the bike flying directly up.
They then twirled as they turned back on themselves, now flying over the top of the transporter, back the way they came.
Max shook his head as he tried to clear the dizziness and stop himself from retching. Leaning heavily on the bike, he could see the pod underneath them, forward thrusters firing as it slammed on the brakes for a U-turn.
The pod and the transporter then disappeared as Jag cut down another street in between the buildings. Max watched as Jag hurriedly pressed a sequence of buttons, then turned, pulling his legs over so that he sat backward, facing him.
“Ready?” Jag asked.
Max stared at him blankly. “No?”
Jag grabbed Max’s arm, then rolled to fall off the bike, kicking off the side. Not expecting it, Max couldn’t brace himself and was pulled off the seat, the feeling of weightlessness quickly hitting him as they tumbled through the air.
“Fuuuu—” Max’s curse cut off as he slammed onto solid ground, bouncing and rolling over a couple of times. He lay still for a moment, waiting for the shock of the landing to wear off. After just that, his red health bar was around half empty.
With a grunt, Max pushed himself to his knees. Nothing felt broken. A brief opening of his character menu confirmed that there were no negative status effects except for the orange Thirsty and Hungry conditions that affected his stamina and health recovery. He’d somehow escaped serious injury.
“What the hell, Jag?” He looked up at Jag who was already on his feet, leaning over a glass barrier to look down the space between the buildings.
“I haven’t made it this far on my own without acting a little unconventional.” He stepped over and offered Max a hand. “Come on, we’re not safe yet.”
Max let Jag pull him to his feet. They were standing on a wide balcony off the side of one of the tall square buildings. A glass barrier ran all the way around it. Several potted plants filled with beautiful and exotic blooms decorated the space, filling the night air with soft aromas. A closed glass door backed by net curtains presumably led inside.
Max warily put a hand on the barrier, peering over at the crowds in the street far below. Little people moving, walking along the roads among vehicles. A drone whirred overhead as it flew above the nearby roofs of the buildings.
He turned back to Jag, who tried pushing the door open. “Why did we jump ship? Unless DynoCaps are a thing in the game, I can’t see you having a spare bike tucked away in your coat.”
“I’ve managed to integrate a basic AI into the bike. I’ve plotted a course to give the pod a bit of a run around while we try to get the upper hand.” Jag inspected the code panel to the side of the door, pressing a few buttons. “It should be able to keep ahead for a minute, but we need to climb to a vantage point.” The panel glowed red and beeped. Jag pulled a pistol-like tool from his belt, stepped back, and aimed at the glass. A loud sound, like a distorted gong, shook the air for a moment, the glass shattering. Jag stepped through the doorframe, moving the curtains aside, his boots crunching the shards of glass scattered over the floor.
“What have you gotten yourself into?” Chopsticks asked through the earpiece.
Max shook his head and followed Jag through the doorway, pushing aside the light net curtains.
The room was spacious, minimalistic artwork hanging on the walls complemented the spartan decor of the sofas, tables, and other furniture.
“This looks like a living space.” Max picked up a handheld device with a paper-thin screen from a side table that matched the huge TV screen on the wall. “Is it for a non-player or something?”
“It’s an entertainment suite,” Jag answered, standing in the middle of the room looking around. “It’s a big business in this world. A lot of people who work office jobs prefer to come here instead of an office or buy these places for ‘vacations.’”
“Wow.” Max placed the device back on the table. “Isn’t there an alarm or something?”
“Probably a silent alarm.” Jag headed for the door set seamlessly into one of the walls. “But we’re not stealing anything, and we’ll be gone soon.” He took out a small wallet, slipped a little card out, and swiped through a small insert on the door, just below the handle, then pushed it open.
Max hurried over to join Jag, standing in a long, wide corridor with rows of doors on either side of them, interspersed with screens showing various promotions on the walls, or command consoles.
Jag tilted his head toward the end of the corridor, and they began walking that w
ay.
“Do you have any weapon skills?” Jag asked as they quickened their pace.
“No. I don’t really have any Traits going on at the moment.”
“That’s fine, here, take this.” Jag held out a small metallic ring, almost like a bangle, that had the relief of wires running around it.
Max took it dubiously, a small screen appearing at the top of his vision;
Item acquired: Blast Brace
Type: Offensive Trinket
Damage type: Force
Base Damage: 239
Charge: 59/100
“I haven’t used tech weapons in a while,” Max said. “Geez, 239 damage on a piece of jewelry?” The base damage of a weapon wasn’t the be-all and end-all, all sorts of things affected the actual output, such as a character’s skill using it, but for a noob character, Max shouldn’t be seeing anything higher than a base damage of 50, and that was if he was lucky in crafting or scavenging a particularly nice flint weapon.
“You’ll be fine, just put it over your wrist, and make a fist at the bad guys. It’s technically not a weapon so you’ll be able to use it. It’s more of a...an enhancement, but it’s got enough punch to make your punches hit things at a short distance.” Jag then stepped into a jog. Max picked up his pace, but his breathing quickly turned heavy as he tried to keep up with his friend.
They soon reached the end of the corridor, where another, more worn door stood. Jag shoulder-barged the door, flinging it open. Max followed in, closing the door behind them.
“A service hatch?” Max asked between breaths as he looked at the flights of stairs going up and down with dismay.
“We’re only a few floors off of the roof, let’s go.”
Jag took off, his heavy-looking boots barely making a sound on the metal grate stairs. Max pushed himself on, but he was lagging behind and could feel his stamina draining away as his breathing rate quickened, and soon became ragged.
For a few minutes, they climbed in silence, Max’s panting and heavy footsteps being the only discernible sound. A clanging resonated through the stairwell. It sounded like a door opening below them.
“We gotta speed up,” Jag said from above.
Max nodded, forcing his lead-weighted legs to keep ascending. They continued up the stairs looping round, passing another service door on each floor.
Max was sure that he could hear metal on metal some way below them, but that might just be the echo of his footfalls.
Max heard another banging and looked up to see Jag above him quick-draw a pistol as the door next to him flung open. Jag fired a shot, and the sound of crackling electricity filled the air. Jaguwar wasted no time holstering his weapon and continuing up. As Max passed the door, he could see a sparking mess of circuits and metal that had been a security bot a few moments ago.
“Jag’s got some serious firepower on him,” Chopsticks said through mouthfuls of crunching chips.
“No. Kidding,” Max panted as he carried on.
Just as Max felt that he was going to collapse at the top of the next flight of stairs, he turned and saw Jag standing next to the exit at the top of the last set of stairs.
“I was just about to come down and look for you, Holic.” Jag chuckled.
Max snorted. “I’d have asked you to carry me the rest of the way if you had.”
“Next time maybe—behind you!” Jag reached for his belt.
Max spun around to see a humanoid mech climbing the stairs behind them, leveling a Gatling gun at him. Max stuck his arm out and made a fist.
His arm tingled as a pulse of energy fired at the robot, slamming it back against the wall before it slumped to the floor.
“Holy cow.” Max dropped his arm and looked back to Jag, who gave him a grin.
“Nice shot.” He then turned and kicked open the door.
Max took the last few steps, stumbling out onto the roof. They had come out of a small shelter built around the door in the middle of the roof, which was otherwise empty except for a few small blocky machines that might have been air conditioning units, and a few lights built into the concrete which lit the area up. Jag was a few feet away, heading toward one side of the roof, looking down at a watch-like device on his wrist.
Max trotted over to catch up.
“Get ready to fire.” Jag pulled his pistol weapon from under his coat.
Max looked around, searching for a target as he brought his arm up. “Uh, okay.”
They waited, poised for an attack. Max shifted uncomfortably, not sure what the plan was. Just when he was about to ask Jag what they were doing, he heard the familiar roaring of hot thrusters getting louder every second.
The bike suddenly appeared from over the edge of the building, Max ducking as it shot overhead. It was followed a moment later by the pod.
Max punched his fist forward, letting off three pulses of energy into the sky as the pod flew over them. Sparks poured off the metal chassis as lasers and energy pulses seared the plating of the vehicle before it disappeared over the far edge of the building.
Max let out a breath. “Was that enough to ground it?”
Jag shook his head. “Probably not, but if we managed to damage a thruster or the engine, we might have slowed it down a bit.”
“Here’s to hoping.” As he said that, Max watched as the dark orange pod rose above the roof to level at them, a small stream of smoke rising off it. “Crap.”
Jag grabbed his arm again. “Run!” They turned and sprinted toward the nearest edge of the roof, Max could hear the scream of the thrusters powering up again, chasing after them.
Jag stuck his arms out in front of him and dove forward over the barrier around the roof, Max leaped over it, just a couple of steps behind.
The sound of metal screeching across concrete right by him made Max appreciate just how close he had been to death, but as the floor of the buildings rushed by him, and the streetlights below got closer and closer, he realized that they might still be very near.
Max wheezed as he hit something solid again, his velocity changing very quickly from downward to horizontal. He coughed hard as the air was once again forced out of him, this time by the much softer seat of the bike.
Clinging on for dear life as the air force pushed at him, Max gingerly righted himself, pulling his leg around to sit upright. Jag was already sitting back in the driver’s seat, turning the bike down a narrow alleyway. The shrieking of the air changed pitch, the thunder of the bike’s thrusters echoed off the walls of the nearby buildings, so close that Max could have reached out and touched them.
Max turned his gaze upward, trying to see if the pod was still following.
It was.
Flying above the buildings, falling behind a little, but not fast enough to lose them.
They burst out of the narrow passage, now over what looked like a main street; much wider than any of the routes they’d taken so far, the ground below was filled with people, streams of traffic cutting down the middle, and another row of vehicles moving slowly through the air above at the bike’s height.
Max glanced around to try and keep his bearing, before turning his head back to watch the pod, which was now spiraling through the air down toward them.
“Watch out!” Max cried.
Jag glanced over his shoulder, then flipped a switch, and pulled the handlebars over and down.
Max’s stomach churned as the world revolved around, Jag taking them into a roll. He caught a glimpse of the pod barreling through the empty space where they had been moments ago. Finishing the roll and once again steadying the bike, Jag pushed the throttle forward, heading straight for the rows of airborne traffic.
Max could hear screams and yells from below. Glancing down, he saw that the pod had almost crashed into the ground, people running from it, but it had managed to recover and was beginning to climb again, smoke streaming behind it.
As Max tried to slow his heart rate and swallow his lunch back down, Jag began to slow the bike, turning to join the f
low of traffic. The air hummed with the sound of thrusters and engines running. They weaved their way into the middle of the mostly larger hover vehicles.
“Keep an eye on the pod, let me know if it’s spotted us again,” Jag said.
“Okay.” Max twisted around, catching glimpses of the pod moving alongside the flow of long carriers and bulky cargo ships. It was definitely searching, but it looked as though it didn’t know where they were.
Jag gently pushed the bike forward, zigzagging through the mass of moving metal.
Before long, Max lost sight of their pursuer completely, and after a few minutes more, they broke away from the various transports, darting across the open area of the main street, and back down one of the many smaller alleys.
They moved at a much more sedate pace, Max now being able to take in the beauty of the city that had been built here, looking out for all the artwork adorning the sides of the buildings, the colorful lights, and intricate architecture of the place.
The wall was soon in sight. As they passed over it, Jag began to guide the bike into a descent toward the ground, which was now blanketed in twilight, and they sped up, cruising toward the dark shadows of huge trees, barely visible in the failing light.
“We should be clear now,” Jag said, his tone relaxed. “Once we’re in the cover of the trees, we’ll take it easy, all that high flying and speed has drained the energy on the bike, but we’ve got plenty of juice to get us home.”
Max sighed, finally letting the tension in his muscles go, enjoying the cool air. “Man, you had me worried for a second there, I thought we’d be stranded out here for the night.”
Jag chuckled. “Having made it this far, I’d say the number one rule of this world is never let your batteries die, it’s bad news if you get caught with a dead battery”
Max couldn’t think of any immediate danger to running out of power, but there was definitely an ominous warning in Jag’s words, which Max pondered on their quiet ride to safety.
Chapter Eleven
