by Zac Strong
I flinch at the sound. The smell of arrogance and oil becomes noticeable. The mechanical noise of the hydraulics in his arm picks at my sanity when he flexes it. Every attempt to pull my eyes from it fails.
“You sure ‘bout that?” he asks, slowly leaning closer towards me. Emotionless. He knows I’m lying. His eyes fail to hide his distrust.
“Yep,” I smugly reply swallowing my nerves. After all, I don’t remember what’s real or what’s not.
“How many of them were there?
“How many of who?”
“Can you describe any of the raiders?”
“Again, what raiders?” I reply.
He’s getting frustrated. Pushing himself off the bent railing, he crosses his giant arms over me. I expect the worst.
The officer on my left scoffs and walks towards my closed door. They pause in unison, each one waiting for the other to strike first. The officer guarding the door places his hand on the blaster dangling from his hip.
A long deadly silence sweeps through the room before the corporate cyborg turns around, reaches for his suit jacket. He drapes it around his arm and steps towards his partner. Like he planned to, he turns to me, stopping just shy of the door, adjusts his tie, and says, “Wrong answer.”
His words send a chill down my spine as he disappears into the hall as quickly as he manifested. Officer Swine widens the open door with a crooked smile.
The distinct sound of boots striking the tile hits me like a drug. A cocktail of fight-or-flight shoots through me at light speed.
My feet find the floor as my imagination envisions torture, both real and virtual, along with other unfavorable outcomes. Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.
The surroundings become vivid. Focus narrows. Only one exit. The window is reinforced glass, no way I’m getting through that. A fight it is.
“You really should have complied with the investigation,” snorts Officer Swine. “Might’ve worked something out. Not sure if you forgot, but you missed an entire week of work, you regularly break curfew, and you lied to a representative of the Lethe Corporation. Three strikes, you’re out, Palin. You are hereby exiled.
Trespassing on Lethe property will result in capital punishment. Do you understand?”
I didn’t plan to get banished. My plans pretty much ended with the noose presumably still hanging in my apartment. Now I’m fucked. I harness my fear. They are why I’m not with Kalli. They are responsible for all of this. Vengeance strikes through me like lightning as I face the uniformed evil, fists clenched tightly. Ice rushes into my veins, fire in my heart. My eyes lock with the first
officer charging through the open door. Peripherals spot three more pouring in behind him. There’s nothing left to lose.
I fire first, devoted to pushing my fist through his skull or die trying. My plans and my fire are abruptly halted with the bottom of his boot.
Flying backward, I knock over the IV stand behind me. I reel back to my feet, struggling to regain my strength.
“That all you got?” I ask feeling the full effects of the chemicals flowing within me.
He turns to his entourage and laughs.
Rushing towards him again, I throw all my weight into his side, tackling both of us to the ground. I rise over him and bury my fist in his face twice before one of his friends grabs me from behind. Another one kicks me in the chest, leaving me gasping at empty breaths. Trying to stand back up, the officer’s lock is too firm.
With force, he faces me towards the first piece of shit unhurriedly getting up off the floor. Officer Boar reads his velcro tag. He wipes the blood from his face and smiles predictably, drama queen. Balling his fist, he stands over me for a second, then strikes me with everything he has. My vision is mashed to red as I feel the bones in my eye socket crumble. Still tasting the warm blood on my lips, he punches me again, and a third time until I crash, to the tile, limp.
Rolling to my knees, my hands reach sightlessly hoping for something, anything, to help. The touch of the metal IV stand reignites me. I clutch it from the ground, forcing my eyes open. Rearing back as far and as quickly as possible, I slam the base of the stand into the face of the closest officer. The sound of a broken nose is quickly followed by a grown man’s cries.
Another kick crushes my abdomen. My face meets the horizon. Body flinching in agony. I’m too weak to stand.
Officer Boar paces beside me. Bleeding from his nose and lip, he wipes his face with the back of his hand. Not smiling this time.
His lips purse, then, out of nowhere, he dives to the ground connecting his knuckles against what’s left of my jaw. He climbs on top of me and digs his knees into my throat. The taste of metal washes over my tongue as he strikes me again and again – each punch landing with more power than the last.
Somewhere in the background, I hear Jacee screaming, but I know it’s too late. It’s already happening again. That tingling feeling when the life is parting from me. Its sinister prick is becoming all too familiar. The edges of my certainty shake chaotically. I can’t feel anything anymore. My vision dwindles to grey as I float into the darkness like it’s my home. Everything gradually fades to quiet, until there is nothing left at all.
Chapter 4
“Welcome back, to the event of the year, Olympia! The wait is finally over. Today is THE day!! Are. You. Reeeeaaady!???” The crowd goes wild from the stands behind the lively announcer, his scarlet red suit is a beacon amongst the immediate backdrop of lights and cameras. With hair the color of cotton candy, he blows everyone in the stadium a kiss and jogs to the center of the giant stage. Where does Lethe find these people?
Backstage I’m triple-checking myself in one of the studio’s mirrors as I watch the broadcast live from a holofeed bottom-left of my reflection. I’m flawless. My dark mocha hair perfectly contrasts my caramel-colored eyes. Clean-cut, tan, and ripped more now than ever. This is my prime. No one in Olympia was faster than me the last two years. No one will be faster than me this year either.
“And now. Introducing the returning DeltaCraft racing champion, let’s give a big round of applause to the one, the only, Eros!!!”
Here we go.
I glide out waving in my best tux, a sparkling metallic piece with a golden vest. My hair to match, styled high and dusted with gold flakes – gotta look the part.
The commentator joins me centerstage in the shadow of a trophy taller than either of us. Up close I can see both of his upgraded eyes are glowing from his livestream, exclusive members only. “This is becoming a little tradition having you here, Eros.”
His joke tickles the already exuberant audience tucked into the warm metal bleachers of the stadium surrounding us. He’s got them all in the palm of his hand.
“What can I say?” I reply confidently, staring directly into the camera buzzing inches from my face. “I come to win. That’s really all I know. Ever since Lethe graced us with DeltaCraft racing, I knew this was my sport.”
“And win, you do. If you’re victorious today, you will break Olympian history being the first man, or Machina for that matter, to win the Anniversary Cup three consecutive times. How nervous are you right now, Eros?”
“Not at all. There’s not an anxious bone in my body, not when it comes to racing. From the second I plug in, until the moment my drone crosses the finish line, I’m in complete control.”
“Whoooaaa. That’s some VERY big talk from the champ. It sounds like he’s not playing around this year, folks.”
A beautiful blonde Machina wearing less than a bikini escorts me to my chair as the announcer introduces the other racers behind me. The leather’s warm from the sun overhead, not a cloud in sight. The silver network cable she hands me throws a blinding glare at my eyes as I unbutton my cuff for it.
Selene?
She’s summoned from behind the stage with the sound of her name in the loudspeaker. Her pearlescent purple hair blowing in the breeze, she waves to the cheering crowd like their queen. She makes her way to the stati
on beside me, giving me a wink as we make eye contact.
“You didn’t tell me you were a pilot.”
“You didn’t ask,” she counters fairly.
The stage we came from is built a little higher than the black platform the pilot cubicles are set up on. Center of the platform hangs three massive display screens; this is how the audience will be able to see the race since it’s not practical to fly everyone to whatever abandoned city Lethe has us racing in this time. Olympia’s finest ten pilots rest in rows of five on both sides of the displays, a silver cord stretched from a central computer and a reclined red leather chair at each identical cubicle.
“Tell you what, flyboy… You win again, and I’ll give you a little something at the victory party, whatever you want.”
“I’ll see you there.”
She smiles and leans back in her chair.
I do the same guiding the silver cable into the network port implanted in my arm.
Opening my eyes, my consciousness is transferred into my virtual-self seated within the cockpit of my Deltacraft at the starting line. Floating about three meters above a runway of broken concrete I wait for the others to blink into their miniature cockpits.
Selene is first. Her glossy purple drone, already hovering in line beside me, is narrow and wide at the base, just like its pilot loading to form in the driver’s seat.
It’s slightly jarring shrinking to the size of a shot glass, but even more disturbing is the thought that the body you’re in isn’t really yours. This avatar looks and moves like me, but the real me is back at Olympia, unconscious, surrounded by thousands of people waiting to see history take place.
The rules are simple. A highspeed race through ruins of an abandoned city of Lethe’s choosing, three laps, the first pilot to cross the finish line wins. If you fail to fly through all the rings you lose; and to make things interesting, we aren’t the only thing that’s virtual.
3…
The augmented course before me springs to life. Great, vibrant rings of light stretch from the starting line, now glowing red, to every point in this city my drone must pass.
2…
The high-pitched whine of the engines sings to the butterflies hatched in my stomach as I pay Selene a nod through the glass of the cockpit and tightly grip the wheel.
1…
Above all else, win.
GO!
The synth-horn roars. The holographic blockade vanishes. The rotating rings of augmented light mapping out the course turn green. I slam the thrusters as I’m sucked back into my seat. Instantly, the gold from my drone flashes to the front of the pack.
I zoom through the first ten rings flawlessly and take the inside on the turn, establishing dominance.
The next checkpoints are buried inside the remains of an abandoned apartment tower, mostly piles of forgotten rubble and dusty concrete. We zoom up the stairwell following the rotating 3D rings slinging loose sand on every floor, hundreds of floors.
The pressure is intense. Everything flying by me faster than my brain can process. At this level, it’s pure instinct.
Drones are fast. Easily faster than civilian shuttles, and obviously smaller and more agile, mine can turn in almost any direction instantaneously. Aside from the fact that shuttle races just wouldn’t be as entertaining for the fans, there is also the issue of safety. If I crash in a shuttle, it’s likely game over. The Lethe catalyst can only do so much, it doesn’t make us invincible. With DeltaCraft, I’m safe and sound back in Olympia.
Less than a second after we entered the crumbling building, we punch out of it. The first unlockables wait in line for us on the roof. Three augmented rocket-spheres on the right, three boosts-spheres on the left.
I choose the boost since no one is getting in front of me this race anyway. A green light dings on my dash in the shape of a lightning bolt as I pass through the light sphere.
From the top of the tower, we take a ninety-degree turn straight down the side. Every pilot within meters of each other dashing towards the ground.
Slamming the glowing button in the center console, I activate the unlockable I collected. The surroundings narrow, everything bending to white. The feeling in the back of my gut swells, as I soar down the building and gain a nice lead before the turbo runs out. Two others close behind me, and an explosion behind them. Selene’s purple drone twirls through the smoke leading the pack for fourth. I’m slightly impressed.
The pilot of the green and orange Deltacraft behind makes a move after a few turns, but I block him with ease. The other one, a navy blue, passes us both on the outside. One tap to its rear wing sends it somersaulting through the street in flames. Oops.
Side by side we fly through the deserted streets and around the relics of a lost society until the course leads us into another building. Heavy machinery rests in the center of this vacant warehouse. Corroded metal racks are bolted to the surrounding walls, or what’s left of them.
Selene closes in on the two of us as we drift through the spiraling course in unison collecting another unlockable. Before the green lightning bolt dings on my dash, we exit out of a meter-wide hole in the roof.
Cutting through the air, we hit the street again, and swiftly weave through the half-buried obstacles time has left for us. Everything’s blurring past me, moving too quickly to focus.
A rocket is fired from the rear.
It strikes the green and orange drone inches to my right.
He swerves, clipping me before exploding into the black sand-covered pavement.
I spiral out of control off course. The rest of the pack races past me, as I struggle against momentum.
Finally, my drone stops. I try to use my eye to find the quickest path, but I’m virtual, no upgrade in this body.
Fuck it. I smash the throttle sending a wake of loose sand behind me as I try like hell to make it back to the rings.
Soaring into the ally I crashed through, I get a glimpse of something, but don’t have enough time to process it. I’m knocked from the air hard as a wing from my Deltacraft is sliced off, sending me whirling to the ground in flames.
Before the transmission fades, I see what struck me, but I refuse to believe it. It’s… not possible.
Chapter 5
My eyes barely open. I am alive.
Black sand burns all around me for as far as I can see. My broken, blood-dried face throbs as the pulsating soreness captures me, refusing to ever let go. A thousand tiny needles dig to the center of my brain without mercy. Great purple welts tattoo my chest. I make a halfhearted attempt to lift myself, but my body declines, and I allow it. I lay here face down in the blistering sand. My eyes, barely open. I am alive.
The cloudless sky fades darker with every passing second as the auburn sun tries its best to hide underneath the desert hills. Never-ending rows of black sand in every direction. Behind me, the only city I’ve ever known.
“You okay, Palin?” asks Jacee hunched in the sand, legs crossed, still wearing the infirmary scrubs she had on early this morning. There is a sincere tone in her voice. Her eyes, wet, one’s bruised and swollen. Not far behind her, the metal archway of the south gate lurks overhead. Two sentry droids guard the city from underneath it. The dancing perception of their black metal frames waves as their red eyes burn in our direction through the haze of the gate’s electric field, watching our every move, waiting for their opportunity to blast us.
“What happened?” I ask hoarsely. Throat still fucked.
“Lethe happened,” she says helplessly. Everything about her, defeated.
I give her a few seconds to sulk while I gather my thoughts and injuries. It’s not looking good for us.
“Are you okay?”
She doesn’t even lift her head as she replies, “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. We’re going to die out here.”
“We are not dying, especially out here. Not until I free Kalli from them if she’s even in there. That I promise.”
“She’s not, Palin.”
“What?”
“She’s not in their servers. She died before they could upload her into the Delta Project. The Suits were already in your room when I was coming back to tell you. I went on my lunch, had to bribe a custodian with 20 credits to let me in to check. She’s gone, but at least she’s not trapped in their prison.” As the words leave her mouth, her eyes cut to the ground.
Both anger and relief hit me at the same time. I thought maybe there was this small chance of seeing her again.. somehow. In a way, the news helps, gives me sight of closure. It’s okay. As much as it fucking kills me, I’m happy, happy she’s free and at peace.
“What are we going to do, Palin?” she cries looking me straight in the eyes now. Her feeling of hopelessness tugs at me, becoming contagious.
“Well, the first thing we are going to do is stop with the crying. We can’t afford it. You’ll be dehydrated in no time if you keep that up,” I answer, standing to dust myself off. A plan begins to turn in my mind, more of a suicide mission than a plan, but it’s our only shot. This is about more than me now.
“In my apartment, there’s a wrench and some pliers I took from the plant. Assuming they haven’t cleaned it out yet, I think we can sneak in and get them if we’re lucky.”
“What are we going to do with tools, Palin? Lethe has guns, really big ones.”
“We use the tools to crack a vending machine. From there we take as many sustenance pills as we can hold and run like hell. That should keep us alive for another few months, as long as we don’t get caught.”
She’s silent for a minute, thinking through the same probable scenarios I did, reaching the same grim conclusion. Eventually, she nods with almost no confidence in me or her own survival. Can’t say I blame her either. The Outlands can be pretty intimidating, breaking into a Lethe city even more. If I had to place my credits on either us or dying, I’d go all-in with dying. Then it hit me.
“Where do you think the men who attacked the infirmary came from?” I ask rhetorically.
