Ada laughed, and an oink left her nose. “Really? Come with you, in the night? At your ‘office’?” she asked, making air quotes.
Massimo raised his hands in innocence. “Look up the address, Piaggio Fast Forward offices. I swear it’s exactly where it says. And you can take a picture of me, here,” he said, taking a selfie with her phone. “Send it to your teacher. And call her.”
Ada bit her lips. She called, but Miss olga didn’t pick up. What the heck, Massimo seemed nice. “Okay, let’s go.” Ada looked up the address and the driver cursed in a string of Italian expletives, then turned around and took them there.
“Careful-” Massimo winced.
Ada pried open the panel on the prototype gita to get access to the motherboard. “Relax, Massimo.”
He moved his hand to stop her then pulled it back, when she ripped the entire wiring out of it and spilled its guts onto the workstation.
The place was simply put, awesome. So stylish, Italian, Piaggio-like, retro but modernised somehow. The workshop had a bunch of gitas in various stages all around, in different colours. Ada tore the thing apart and connected the controlling tablet onto it. They were using a custom piece of software to run it, but it looked similar enough to what she had found online, so it didn’t take her long to find her way around it.
“Uh-huh,” Ada mumbled, holding a screwdriver in her mouth. “That’s what I thought, you don’t have the processing power,” she said, and stood up. She ripped the motherboard out of another gita.
Massimo winced. “Please don’t make a mess.”
Ada straightened her back and opened her arms wide, her elbows stuck on her body. She waved around the prototype motherboard. “Hey, that’s what invention is. Making a mess. Read a book someday.”
“Okay, okay,” Massimo said, looking away. He mumbled something in Italian that was definitely not kind to her, but she didn’t mind. She was high in the clouds right now. This was the awesomest place to be. Sure, the historical landmarks were fine and all, but this?
Nothing beat this.
She rigged the two motherboards together.
“Won’t that reduce the battery time,” Massimo asked.
“That is why…” Ada said, typing in commands. “We’re gonna underclock it. You lose money in hardware but have a more reliable product. And I’m sure your techs can figure out how to do it by expanding the main motherboard, I’m just doing proof-of-concept right now.”
“Okay.” Massimo rubbed his head. He looked worried, but excited.
“Done.” Ada slapped the Luggage awake and hopped in place. “Hey, lock on to me. Admin here,” she said, not really needing to say the words, she had control via the tablet. But it felt funny, doing it like that.
The Luggage whirred and turned to her.
Ada giggled loudly. “Haha! Now, catch me!” she said, and started to run along the very stylish, very expensive furniture of the office space.
Massimo stood up and tried to stop her, but she was gone, baby. She ran like a crazy person, and Luggage followed in pursuit. She had three modes, barely moving, walking speed, jogging speed. She avoided all the obstacles, only bumping on one stupid statue made of transparent plastic that made it difficult for her to notice, and followed at a steady, quick pace.
She found Ada, and then Ada congratulated her. “Whoohoo! Who’s a good Luggage? You are, yes! You.” She rubbed the Luggage around the lid.
Massimo ran and caught up to her. “This was actually quite good!” he said. He was out of shape, despite looking fit. “The obstacle avoidance worked quite well. It didn’t get stuck, no backtracks, and she kept following you even after losing line-of-sight in the last office.”
“Yup!” Ada said proudly. “Last one back to the workshop is a Roman Tyrant!” she shouted, and dashed back the other way.
She ran back to the workshop, hearing the Luggage whirr after her and Massimo exclaiming in surprise. She heard the heavy footsteps behind her, and turned back to see him trying to catch up.
She got to the workshop and touched the bench they were tinkering on, as if that was the rule of the game.
Panting, she turned to Massimo. “I won.”
“You did,” he said, panting and smiling at her. “I guess you’ve won your prize, clever lady.”
Then it happened. The thing she’d only seen in movies, the thing she’d only dreamed of in her short time on Earth.
Massimo swooped her off her feet and kissed her deeply. Ada was shocked for a second, then she grabbed his head and kissed him back so hard and so long that he had to push her away in order to breathe.
“Wow!” she said softly, feeling loopy all of a sudden. This was the absolute best kiss she ever had. Not that she had many data points to compare it with.
Massimo smiled, holding her waist. “What am I gonna do with such a clever girl like you?” he asked, running his fingers on her chest.
“Um…” she bit her lips, hard. She really, really did not want to stop him right now. He was hot and Italian and experienced and this would definitely be the best night of her life and she’d regret this decision for the rest of her life. Groaning, she pushed him away.
He stayed away, apparently respecting her wishes. “Did I do something wrong?”
Ada chuckled. “Oh, no! Nonono. You are…” she groaned. “Hrmph. You are great, Massimo. But I,” she pointed at her stupid face like a crazy person, “I am too young to do what I really, really wanna do with you right now.”
He frowned. Damn his hotness! Ada thought of computer code to calm herself down. “What do you mean? You can’t be younger than what? Seventeen? I thought you,” he clicked his fingers together, “how do you call it? Missed a class?”
“Got held back,” she corrected. “Nope,” Ada said, popping the ‘p.’ “I’m fifteen.”
Massimo looked shocked. “Oh Dio! Really? But you’re almost taller than me.” He looked her up and down and she felt really uncomfortable.
Ada screwed a loose screw on the gita beside her. This was the only screwing that would be done tonight. “I guess I just look older.”
“And your brains,” Massimo said, holding his forehead. “You’re better than some of the guys I’m paying. Well, that sucks.”
“You have no idea…” Ada groaned softly, tightening the screw.
“I thought you were seventeen or eighteen. Well, it was just a kiss. No big deal.”
Ada snorted like a piggy. “Yeah. No biggie.” Nope. It wasn’t a big deal that she would dream of this kiss for years. Years.
Massimo sat down. “I have the company car here. Can I drive you to your hotel? Or, I can call a taxi, if you don’t want me to.”
Ada smiled at him. “It’s alright, don’t worry. Nah, I’ll take the taxi. It’s late.”
They walked outside the office. “Well, it has been great meeting you, Ada,” Massimo said, shaking her hand.
“For me as well,” Ada giggled like a teenage idiot. She pressed her cheeks down so they would stop grinning. “Thanks for letting me play with your Luggage.”
“Thanks for making the proof-of-concept. It’ll work just fine, I think.”
“See you.”
“Send us a resume when you graduate,” Massimo shouted after her. “Seriously.”
Ada giggled some more. She left before she’d say something she’d regret.
At the hotel, she spoke to the receptionist. He was so helpful, Ada felt warm and tingly inside. Or, perhaps that was the aftermath from the kiss. She had no idea. “You’re a gift from the gods.”
“The airport says they’re very sorry and they’ll have your luggage ready for you in the morning,” he said, smiling. He presented a care package. “We have added some clean clothes you can use for tonight.”
“Wow!” Ada said, accepting it. “Is it free?”
“Of course not. We’ll be charging your school.”
Ada thought about it for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Sure.”
She went up to her
room. It wasn’t like anyone had bothered to look for her. Even Miss Olga didn’t care enough to call her back.
Nobody loved Ada.
She ignored the snide remarks of her roommate-slash-classmate about coming in so late and hopped on the bed, hugging her pillow tight.
Nobody loved Ada. But tonight, for a brief moment, perhaps Massimo did.
They woke up early, Ada was beat. She received her luggage, thank Hermes. She barely had time to get a shower and put on some clean slacks and sneakers. She could barely keep her eyes open, and thank the gods for espresso!
Around midday she managed to pry one eyelid open. They took her to see the sights, and Ada loved it. She breathed in the air, and the smells, and the food and the drink and the hustle and bustle of Rome. She really liked it here. It was like Athens, all the shouting and the egregious disregard for traffic code. But it had better-preserved ruins and statues, and they had kept that aesthetic of the old city, while expanding in other places. Athens had pushed the old and the beautiful aside and had built the new and the grotesque on top of the ruins.
Ada had fun.
Italy was the best, even if she travelled alone, basically. She had no friends amongst her classmates. Nobody really cared about her, not even the people who’s job was supposed to be just that. Miss Olga apologised briefly and then ran off to find some boys who were doing it in the bathroom. They had posted pictures on Agora. Miss Olga understandably lost her shit and screeched away to find them.
Ada shrugged. It was okay, she was fine on her own.
The rest of the days passed by quickly, it was really beautiful.
On the last day, Ada got called by the helpful receptionist. “Miss Ada, there’s a luggage for you.”
She frowned. “No, you brought me my luggage already, don’t you remember? And thank you for sorting that out, if I’d known I’d have come to you in the first place.”
The receptionist thanked her and pushed a light-blue orb from the back of his counter.
Ada squealed in delight. “Oh. My. Gods! Is it mine?”
The receptionist shrugged. “They left it here for you, miss.”
“Oh my gods! Luggage, is that you?”
Luggage rolled towards her and popped the hood open. There was a note inside, handwritten.
‘Ada, I got my guys to copy everything you did. It took them three days, if you can believe it. We’re going to implement your solution after all, it’s brilliant. I decided to patch up Luggage and leave him to you. It’s my gift.
Massimo.
P.S. Call me when you’re ready.’
Ada held the letter to her chest, squeezing it all inside. She turned to Luggage. “Come on, Luggage. You have some things of mine to carry to the airport and back home.”
The End.
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The Girl Who Twisted Fate's Arm
Playlist: Video 1/67
People screamed.
Actually, little people screamed.
The school-bus hurtled down the street, the kids inside it either screamed in delight as if they had suddenly found themselves in a rollercoaster or actually yelled in terror at the pursuit.
A fierce woman in leather jacket drove her bike next to the school-bus driver and pulled out a shotgun at him. He was startled to see her and swerved to the side, taking a whole traffic light with him.
Another woman, much smaller and younger than the first, drove between the shotgun and the school-bus and slapped the gun down, yelling, “Are you nuts? There are kids in there!”
“I wasn’t going to fire,” said the fierce woman and gritted her teeth.
“Accidents happen you know.” The small woman clicked their intercom back to broad channel and ordered, “Everybody, no guns for any reason whatsoever. I’m going in, keep up the pursuit until I handle this. Bremusa is in charge.” Bremusa, which means the raging female, straightened her back at that and watched the group’s locations on her smarthelmet. She sent out commands, bellowed orders and told each and every one of the ladies to move their fat asses.
Other bikers closed in from every lane, all women, all dressed in leather and combat gear. They were behind and in front of the school-bus in tight escort and cleared the highway ahead. The two leading bikes honked at various intervals, but they didn’t have to do it that much despite the terrible traffic. People knew that when they saw them they better veer away.
The school-bus driver spat a curse at her and swerved left to bump her bike. She was too preoccupied with giving commands that she didn’t react in time, and was about be pushed to the side at 100 km/h. If she was lucky that is. It was also probable she’d get caught under the school-bus’ wheels and get chomped instantly by the sheer weight.
“Antioche!” Bremusa bellowed and leaned towards her. The school-bus pushed the smaller woman’s bike to the side, she managed to correct her course, but she was too late. Bremusa grabbed her as she fell and held her close, leaning her bike the other way for counterbalance. Antioche stood at an angle on the bike, holding onto Bremusa’s hand. They were like a circus performance, doing stunts on bikes at high speeds. Her bike fishtailed behind and slammed hard on a wall with a loud rending of metal. There was no explosion.
“Get me closer!” Antioche said and Bremusa sighed. She did as she was told, and Antioche grabbed onto the school-bus and pushed herself up a window.
Little faces stared at her from inside, with snotty noses and missing teeth. Some of them had their phones out, ridiculously large in their tiny hands, recording the madwoman who was dangling outside their window while they hurtled on the highway.
The fierce woman straightened her bike and kept steady. She mumbled to herself, “Thank you for saving my life Bremusa. I acknowledge how good a lieutenant you are Bremusa. My, what big strong hands you have Bremusa,” and gripped the steering wheel.
Antioche grabbed on for dear life and slapped the window. “Open the window! Come on you little shits.”
A little boy with ears sticking out, jerked back and hid under the seat.
The school-bus driver took out a gun and pointed it back at Antioche, who didn’t notice and still held on precariously. He drove with his left hand and crossed the right to point the gun blindly, taking peeks at the mirror.
Bremusa snarled and took off her helmet. She grabbed it by the leash and slammed it on the school-bus’ mirror, smashing it and sending shards of glass everywhere. She knew she couldn’t simultaneously drive, smash the mirror and protect her face so she just closed her eyes hard and hoped not to get blinded. She felt a few warm pinpricks on her face and pulled her smarthelmet back on, wincing as she did. Some little pieces of glass stuck on her face and the helmet turned them into neat slicing knives. Nevermind that, she could handle a few scars. Not having a helmet at this speed would make her face peel off on the street if she fell.
She glanced back and saw Antioche still slapping the window, holding on to the side of the school-bus. She snarled in the intercom, “Melousa, throw a candybar at Antioche, now!”
Melousa, the sweet one, protested, “I don’t have any-”
“NOW! Or I’ll chain up your fridge you thick-skinned pachyderm,” bellowed Antioche into the comms.
Melousa pushed her lower lip up and revved up her Harley. She stuck her soft chubby hand in a pocket.
A candy bar flew in the air parallel to the school-bus’ windows, rotated a few times and got snatched by Antioche. She slapped her gloved palm in the glass and held it there. The kids saw the candy bar and got excited. Any shred of hesitation they might have had up to now evaporated, and they rushed in to open the window. Antioche pushed her slender upper body inside and threw the candy bar on the seat away from her.
The kids cheered and fought about who would get a piece.
Antioche got in the school-bus and moved towards the driver. He pointed his gun at her.
Bremusa watched her as she stood there, arms r
aised. She knew that Antioche would never dare to dodge incoming fire in this situation. The risk of hitting a child was too high. “Dammit, dammit,” she hissed and bit her lip. Bremousa knew that her leader would rather stay still and take a bullet than endanger little kids. She leaned into the shotgun holster and gripped her weapon, hesitating. Her leader had just directly forbidden her from pulling out guns. But she was in danger, a mortal one. Maybe she could disobey her this time. It’s not like Antioche could think ahead for every possible contingency. She hadn’t planned for that.
Bremusa shook her head and relaxed her grip. No, she couldn’t risk it. Even if she saved her, even if she was nowhere near endangering the kids from shotgun fire, Antioche would beat her down senseless.
“Dammit!” she hissed once more and grabbed the shotgun. “Do not engage,” she ordered the others. Then she folded open the shotgun with a swift one-handed motion that made the shells fall on the asphalt and disappear behind.
They were running close to a bend now, and she had to act fast because it might change the situation when they got there. Not to mention that the driver might fire at any second.
Bremusa could hear him from Antioche’s intercom. He was nervous, breathing hard. He tried to divide his attention between driving the school-bus at great speeds and threatening Antioche with his gun. “This was your big plan little girl? You come in here, then what, huh?”
Antioche held her arms up in surrender, but she held her ground. Not only that, she actually covered the children with her lithe body. To do that, she took a step forward to lessen the gun’s possible angle of spread. “Yeah. You got me. Here, you have a hostage now, let the kids go. I’m a small skinny girl, surely a big man like you can handle me easily,” she told him, the words dripping with innuendo.
“Oh no, she’s trying to flirt,” Bremusa said to herself. She turned on the comms. “Everybody be alert.”
“Oh yeah?” the driver said. He hesitated for a few seconds, watching the road and craning his neck back at her. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe… I’ll just shoot you right here and now.”
MOAB � Mother Of All Boxsets Page 43
