Danger's Race

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by Amanda Carlson


  On a good day, I was a light sleeper. The ocean had been terrifying, and we’d been over it a long time, then I didn’t remember a thing.

  “Dammit,” I muttered as I donned my headgear and drew my Gem, easing the door open. “Never trust someone who’s played you not once, but twice. What was his plan anyway? To dump us in the middle of nowhere and leave us to rot?”

  “Not exactly,” Case answered, surprising me. It was much too close, especially since I couldn’t see him. “And I didn’t drug you.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” Not exactly anyway. I was fully out of the craft now, glancing around. I still couldn’t see him.

  “Sometimes the body gives out during a stress response,” he continued. “I’ve seen it many times.”

  His voice was coming from underneath the craft. I flipped on a shoulder light and bent down. “I wasn’t stressed.” In fact, I’d been hyperstressed. My body actually felt sore from all the muscle tightness.

  In the city, there was a predictable kind of danger, one I met head on daily. Out here was something new and wild. The instability of it all had me rattled, more than I’d like to admit—I certainly wasn’t admitting it to the outskirt.

  Case rolled out, holding a spent hydrogen container, and I took a step back.

  He stood, brushing the muck from his sleeves. “You can kid yourself all you want,” he said. “But you hyperventilated for at least five minutes before you passed out. How much sleep did you get last night?”

  “None.” I was done talking about this. As long as Case hadn’t drugged me, and we weren’t in the hands of the militia, I was good. I turned in a circle. “Where are we?”

  “Right outside the boundary of my town in an area I like to call Hidden Cove. It’s protected on all sides and hard to get to without a craft. We’re protected here for at least the night.”

  “Does the militia extend this far?” I asked. “Are they going to continue pursuing us?”

  “If they recognized my craft, yes,” he said.

  “Seven used to be Dixon’s, right?” He gave me an infinitesimal nod. “They wouldn’t have recognized Luce.” I climbed back into the craft to get out of the rain, letting that sit for a while. He’d argued about taking Seven, but he had to have known there was a chance the militia would scout us at some point.

  Case got in the other side. “If I’d thought there was a chance they’d see us, I would’ve insisted on taking your craft.”

  I didn’t know if I should believe him or not. He was as stubborn as I was when it came to admitting fault. I was too fatigued to dwell on it. I rested my head against the seat, pulling off my helmet, the blue light from my shoulder illuminating the small space between us. “Do you think your siblings will talk tomorrow?”

  “If they don’t, I plan to make them.”

  “You know, there’s a chance the militia has taken over your tribe since Tandor left,” I said. “By taking most of the residents with him, Tandor weakened their resistance to fight back. It would be easy for the militia to force the remaining inhabitants to assimilate if there were only a few left.” I peeled off a glove and ran a hand over my face. “I wouldn’t rule out that Tandor knew this and may have even brokered a deal with them. After all, he wanted to be the supreme ruler of the city, and if he had the aid and cooperation of the biggest militia in the South behind him, by handing them tribes to rule, he might’ve been invincible.” I shuddered to think about what that world would’ve looked like. Widespread panic, violence, and chaos. The majority of the human race wouldn’t have made it through a year.

  Case nodded, taking his helmet off and resting his own head on the seat back. We were both beat. “That seems like a likely reality. Given how much effort the militia is taking to pursue us, it seems that in a very short amount of time they’ve gained even more power. It’s not something I’d considered, but should have. Honestly, I never thought Tandor would be successful, and I certainly didn’t think he had planned anything more than whipping a few people into a frenzy in a halfhearted attempt to take over the government. He was dangerous and cruel, but lacked any sort of follow-through, which his followers, including Hutch, knew. It’s looking like he was more devious than I gave him credit for.”

  “I only made his acquaintance once for a short time, but I underestimated him as well,” I said. “He was sloppy about the planning, but apparently not about the implementation.” Wishing Case had known more about what we were getting into down here was wishful thinking. When he’d followed Tandor to the city, it’d been fueled by revenge and a highly emotional response to his nephew being violently murdered. Not thinking straight was a given. “How far out of town are we?”

  “Around three kilometers.”

  “That’s fairly close,” I said, pondering the situation for a moment. “I think it makes sense if I go in and question your siblings alone. If we can prevent the militia from finding out that you’re connected to this craft, maybe they’ll give up trying to find us. I’m an unknown around here. A strange woman looking for supplies. Not a threat. If the militia comes to town after we’ve left, your siblings describe me and not you. They won’t even know you were here.”

  “That might work, but my sustainee brother is a—”

  Case was interrupted by a semimuffled, silky female voice coming from the backseat, likely clutched in Daze’s hand. “I detect three humans and seven like signatures within three meters,” Maisie said. “Female, Holly, blood pressure normal, heart rate optimal, nutrition inadequate. Recommend hydration.”

  “Why does she only care about my stats?” I grumbled. But the egg had just reminded us that we still hadn’t opened the box with the mysterious like signatures. I plucked it up from where it sat near my feet, wondering if Maisie had interrupted us because she wanted us to find out what was inside. “Do you think your laser key is charged enough to get this thing open? Since the frequency signature is broken, the only way to get it open is with force. The key should work.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. “It might not have a full charge, but a few seconds should be sufficient.”

  I angled the box toward Case, anxious to see what was inside. Aiming the key at the corner, where the housing was, he depressed the button. If the connection mechanism was destroyed, it would open.

  The hot laser ran for four seconds, but the metal was twisted and molten. After about thirty seconds, I tested it with my finger. It was cool enough to the touch, so I tucked the box under my arm and tried to pry the lid off, using my body as leverage.

  It wouldn’t budge.

  Case reached out a hand, and I gave it to him. He braced it between his legs and pulled, the cover wrenching upward almost instantaneously. He chuckled. “It wouldn’t have opened unless you loosened it for me first.” As he lifted the box up, four out of seven small silver cylindrical items tumbled into his lap.

  I reached over and picked one up, turning it over in my hand. Case set the box with the rest of them on the floor.

  We needed more light, so I took out my ultra-light, and the entire inside of the craft lit up.

  Daze sat up in the backseat, rubbing his eyes, instantly alert when he saw what we were doing. “Whoa, are those bullets?”

  “No,” I said. At least, I didn’t think they were. “They certainly look like they could be. They’re the right shape. But they’re too light and too well made. They’ve been polished to a high sheen. Nobody would spend that much time and money on a bullet.” They were smooth all over, with no discernible markings. Lead bullets hadn’t been around for over a century, but some guns used specific kinds of ammunition. Like Lockland’s Blaster. Those bullets were bigger than these and filled with scrap metal.

  “I detect seven like signatures,” Maisie repeated.

  “We know,” I muttered. “And we’re currently trying to figure out what they are. It would be extremely helpful if you could identify them for us instead of calling them ‘like signatures.’ If not, feel free to take a
breather.”

  “My technological composition does not require oxygen to function,” she answered.

  I snorted as Daze laughed. “Duly noted,” I said. “But that’s not the question I was hoping you’d answer. What are these things?” Just for the hell of it, I placed one in front of the egg that Daze was now holding between the seats. “Come on, Maisie. You can do it. What are these things?”

  Her lights blinked away, and I got hopeful she was going to solve the mystery. “I detect seven like signatures in the form of artificial intelligence, LiveBot-compatible, but not enhanced.”

  “Yes, yes, we know,” I said, frustration rising. “That’s what’s inside, but what are these things? They can’t be bullets. For one, they’re not heavy enough.”

  Case examined the one in his hand, and Daze reached for another.

  Maisie was quiet for a moment, before saying, “Outer shell made of hyperalloyed aluminum. Interior made of silica and silicon diodes.”

  “Better,” I said. “But that still doesn’t tell us what they are or what they were used for.” If they contained like signatures, they had to have software inside. But how did they open? What were they used for?

  “I think I’ve seen these before,” Daze said.

  “They do look familiar,” I agreed. “But my brain is being about as helpful as Maisie. Hopefully, your awesome memory will kick in soon.”

  A pop sounded.

  I glanced over at Case, who was now holding one end of the silver bullet in one hand, the cap in the other.

  The thing opened. Now we were getting somewhere.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What is it?” I asked. “The suspense is killing me.” We all moved closer to get a better look. Case held up the exposed end, setting the sleek, cylindrical cap in his lap. He brought the shell to his nose and took a sniff. I wrinkled my nose. “Does it smell?”

  “Not really,” he answered. “I was just checking to see if it had any chemical makeup I could detect.” He rolled it back and forth between his fingers. A small glint inside caught the light. He brought it closer, squinting. “I think there’s a mirror of some kind inside.”

  “A mirror?” I squinted, trying to see the tiny reflection.

  “Can I look?” Daze asked. He set Maisie on the console between us as Case handed him the confusing trinket. Daze began twisting the bottom. On the second rotation, light flickered from the inside. On consecutive turns, it went from blue, to green, to purple. He held it closer to his face, and the light hit his iris, making it reflect purple for a brief instant.

  I gasped, finally understanding. “I know what that is! It’s a diffraction grater.”

  “A what?” Case asked, picking up another one and taking off the cap.

  “It’s what our ancestors used to change their eye color temporarily.” I popped one open, examining it. “Through laser sculpting, they could alter the surface of the cornea, cutting ridges to absorb the color they wanted, reflecting everything else. But it only lasted a week at the most. As the eye healed, it went back to normal.” Sounded painful to me. I shook the thing. “These could’ve been some kind of promotional tools Bliss Corp gave away.” It was hard not to be disappointed. “I’m not sure what Maisie was talking about with the AI, but it must take some software to run these. Who knows?” I turned it over and tried to pry the bottom off. There was no seam to indicate it could be opened.

  Case studied his. “I’ve heard about these things. Weren’t they called something like Eye Dids?”

  I chuckled. “I think they were called Eye Diffs for short. The technical term for the process was eye diffraction.” I put the cap back on, turning it over in my hand. “What I don’t understand is why anyone would want to use one. Realigning the tissue means damaging it. The risk of going blind had to be high. But I guess it makes sense that Bliss Corp would have them.”

  He shrugged, sitting back. “The beauty industry was big business.”

  “Yeah, second only to the pleasure industry,” I said. “Bliss Corp carried a line of high-quality beauty products.” I shook the bullet-shaped object. “If you didn’t have money to pay for permanent alterations, you settled for temporary fixes. From what I’ve read, which isn’t much, most of the gene pool had become homologized eighty to a hundred years ago, and unless your parents decided to go with gene editing before you were born, which was only available to the wealthy, you looked like everyone else. Things like these”—I held up the diffractor—“made you stand out.”

  “I think it’s cool. It couldn’t have hurt that much, or people wouldn’t have done it,” Daze said. “Can I try it?”

  I plucked the thing out of his grasp before he had a chance to place it near his eye. “Let’s not mess around with your vision. Sight is a beautiful thing.” The gadgets had probably been sitting around for over sixty years. “I wouldn’t trust the technology anymore either.” I gathered up the rest of the Eye Diffs, picking the other three out of the container, and opened a dash compartment and tumbled them inside. “Well, that’s disappointing.” I wasn’t sure what secrets I’d thought we’d uncover from Bliss Corp, but old beauty products hadn’t made the list. “I refuse to give up hope. There are still some boxes in the cave.” There was a reason someone thought it was important to store them out of reach of human interference. “But we can’t do anything now except get some sleep. I say we set out in a few hours, just before dawn. It will be better to take them by surprise, before the day starts.”

  “I’m not tired,” Daze said.

  “You were snoring ten minutes ago. I’m pretty sure you can find your groove again pretty quickly,” I replied.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  On cue, my stomach gave a loud gurgle, and Maisie responded with, “Nutrient deficiency detected in all three humans—one adult male, one male child, one adult female, also known as Holly. Intake of essential aminos and calories necessary. Recommend hydration. UV exposure critical.”

  “No sun lamps until we’re home, so UV is out. The child is Daze, and the adult male is Case,” I told Maisie. “No need to single me out. You can go ahead and talk about their deficiencies just as much as mine.” I couldn’t help grumbling, having no idea if she was learning from my words or not. I turned to Daze. “You heard the egg. Let’s eat.” I was still worried about Daze’s health. I should’ve been forcing him to eat more frequently, but there’d been too much stuff going on. I reached for my pack, which I’d placed on the floor behind my seat. Actually, I’d rocketed it back there without much thought. Daze had situated it on the floor. I asked Case, “Do you have a jug of water nearby?” Which was code for, Will you please get us some water?

  Case got out and walked around the back, popped the storage compartment, and brought back a jug. I pulled a cup out of my pack and held it out. Case filled it with water. Then I plunged the ultrasonic whisk inside and turned it on.

  The water was bubbling in ten seconds.

  Eating cold slop was a drag, so it was lucky these whisks were small and easy to travel with. They’d been invented by some guy trying to make an integrated ultrasonic scrubber for a newly designed bio-toilet. Apparently, the toilet water started boiling.

  Daze held out three packages of dried food. I added water straight to the bags.

  Instant protein mush. We ate in silence.

  I wasn’t certain what my meal flavor was supposed to be, but it was fairly tasty. These rations had been made before the dark days. They tasted different than the protein cakes the government made with their 3-D bio-printers, and honestly, it was a relief to taste something different. I couldn’t imagine all the choices our ancestors had at their fingertips before disaster had wreaked its havoc. It must’ve been hard to constantly have to make decisions about what to eat.

  It was a life I’d never know.

  I finished the last few bites and contemplated having another bag. We’d packed at least a month’s worth, even though we’d planned on being out for only a couple of days. Tr
aveling this far in an average craft was difficult. Keeping your batteries charged was an issue. You had to have spares. We were incredibly lucky that the barracks had a room full of super-powerful batteries, and because of that, we had more than enough battery power to stay out here for a couple months, if need be. So why not bring enough food? That way, if we ran into trouble, we’d be covered.

  I decided against another meal. I was full, regardless of what Maisie thought of my nutrient level. We discarded the empty packages into a bio-bag we would grind up later. I yawned, settling back against the seat. “I suggest you get some sleep, even if you’re not tired,” I told Daze. “We’re leaving just before dawn, and it’s going to be a long walk.”

  “Fine,” Daze said. “But I’m probably not going to fall asleep. When I’m not tired, there’s nothing I can do to get to sleep. It just doesn’t happen.”

  The kid was snoring six minutes later.

  It took me an additional ten to join him.

  * * *

  It was dark when we set out, the sun set to rise within the hour. In the city, even during blackout, it seemed like there was a bit of ambient light. Out here, with nothing around, the darkness was complete, settling over my body like a second skin. We had our shoulder lights on so we could see. The deep blue light wouldn’t be detected at a distance very easily.

  Before we’d left the city, I’d found a decent jacket for Daze in one of my caches and managed to incorporate a single shoulder light with a little bit of polygel adhesive. The lights came in red, blue, and green, were fairly abundant, and ran on a tiny nano-helium battery. Without batteries, life wouldn’t be remotely possible.

  When I thought about it, I always tried to remember to give thanks to the guy who’d invented the long-lasting helium batteries right before the dark days. He was our true savior, even though his name hadn’t been recorded.

  Some things had just been lost forever.

  I sidestepped a large rock. I’d tripped three times already, so I was hyperaware. We’d trudged up and down several muddy, wet hills. “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked Case for the third time. “I could swear we’re going in circles.”

 

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