Shane’s Hunt

Shane pushed himself forward through the bright green brush, his weapon’s barrel the first to go through its leaves.

Guide Hark’s voice came through Shane’s Communications Platform to ask, “How is everything?”

Shane replied, “This suit’s horrible,” making Hark’s voice laugh through the platform.

“No, it’s just new. Once you get used to it, it’ll be the same as the last.” Shane couldn’t argue with that. He said the same thing about the Scales V.1 on another system’s desolate desert. The Flesh Z5, though, was advertised to be a much better utility suit. Shane didn’t trust the adverts, but Hark did, especially if Glin wore one. Hark hadn’t let go of that fatherly instinct, never mind the fact his son was a grown man with a greying beard. Shane had to bring his mind back to his eyes. Another mile had been walked and there were no signs of the thing.

Shane whispered through the CP, “You got anything, Glin?”

“Negative.” More and more miles would be marched, probably leaving the Preservation Crew with nothing for the day. Shane scanned to his left of the exotic jungle. Through a sea of vibrant pastel plants with their ripe fruits, Shane saw a dozen trunks of massive youthful trees. As he started turning back, he froze himself in place. At the corner of his eye, he saw the glint of a strange green. It was lighter than the rest of the leaves, and its pattern didn’t match the landscape. Shane couldn’t describe the pattern; just that it wasn’t part of the flora.

He remained motionless as he whispered, “It’s on me. Just on my right.”

Glin asked, “Can you move?”

“No, it’s only forty feet from me. It’ll reach.” A fast pace fluttered through Shane’s heart, but it wasn’t abnormal. This wasn’t the first time in his career Shane had been pressed into this situation. He knew how it would go; he just wasn’t a fan of it. Glin was no doubt sprinting towards Shane’s location. Perhaps he could get a shot from behind, avoiding any pain for the creature.

That hope vanished when Hark ordered, “Get your Comatic ready when you get there.” The orders were to take the thing alive for examination, since this was a Commissions contract. He could see in his display that Glin was closing in. A few deep breaths settled him as the eyes of the creature held a strong stare. The creature wanted an opening to pounce and it would get it.

Glin said, “In position.” Shane had to be thrashed by the Lizard for two minutes before Glin could get an angle for the Comatic. It would leave a massive bruise wherever the Lizard put its saber teeth, but nothing would be broken. A bottle of anything stiff would make it tolerable. Didn’t mean Shane had to like it.

He took another deep breath before he counted down, “Three… two… one.” At the one, Shane threw his hand into his display, activating the Z5. Soon sacs of a strange gelatinous liquid filled the suit's pores. The Saber’s teeth clamped down on Shane’s torso. Nine thousand pounds of pressure would be redistributed through the suit. Shane still screamed when it crushed down. His breath shortened as ribs suddenly blended together. The ground fell ten feet below with blurs of green flinging through Shane’s eyes, but he still had a hand on his weapon. After another twenty seconds, the pressure came undone, the trees separated again, and Shane’s ribs spread to their original state. His eyes drifted to the bright blue sky surrounded by thick treetops. Glin’s mask rushed over to Shane as he laid in the Saber Lizard’s mouth.

“You alright?” he asked.

Enough air came up from Shane’s chest to say, “Fantastic,” but it wasn’t enough to remove concern from Glin’s face. He grabbed Shane’s arm and hoisted him back up. A sharp pain shot up and down his side. He hobbled over to a nearby tree and pressed his back against it so he could carefully slide to the ground.

As he sat in the thick moss of a tree’s roots, he said, “That’s a broken rib. This is all you.”

“Damn.” Glin exclaimed. Both men then turned to the lizard. Its chest rose and fell while its tongue sprawled across the grass. Based on the moist gel coating the tips of its teeth, if Shane had been a moment slower, one of those blades would’ve punctured something. Shane looked down at the Z5 suit of armor and knocked his gauntlet against the hardened gel. It became wavy with that small amount of pressure, but once Shane tried to punch it, he felt the gauntlet hit a stone. No wonder the Lizard kept thrashing. Rock had formed around its teeth, probably felt like they were being ripped out of its skull. Shane almost felt sorry for the thing. Powerful engines roared overhead. The tree gave Shane a wonderfully shaded view of the small cargo ship hovering over the treetops. Glin finally looked up to see a cable roll down a set of mag-restraints. The four small ones shackled just above the Lizard’s claws while the large one went around its neck. The Steelen family was the first group of people to put the collar on creatures. Shane didn’t know if it was for the thing’s comfort or if it made the haul up to the ship easier, but he found he preferred it for the creature’s benefit. Most Preservation Crews were brutes about procedure, but they didn’t get paid as much as the Steelen’s. Shane watched how quickly the magnetic hauler brought the lizard up to the open deck of the ship. Once the comatose beast was locked in, Glin came over and grabbed Shane.

As Shane laid on the small medical table, his one fellow none Steelen, Fio, approached with a grin on his face.

“Shut up,” Shane said, trying to hide his own grin as a wince. Fio saw right through it, though.

“Last crew and this crew, there’s a pattern there, Shane, you can’t deny it.” Shane did, in fact, see a pattern. He had been told a while ago that he had a heavy footstep.

Unable to argue, Shane just shrugged and said, “Next crew, I’ll tell them my special skills are being bait. Everyone needs bait.” Fio chuckled.

“I suppose so.” He let some silence linger before he asked, “Seriously, you alright?” Shane took a moment to examine himself. He’d heal, yes, but without some suppressant or liquor, he’d be cranky for a bit.

Shane gave the answer, “I will be,” to calm Fio’s mind. Both men were employees of the Steelen family and the only ones. Neither Fio nor Shane had deciphered the family’s second language, but it was one that wasn’t too foreign to them. All crews had inside jokes, hand signals, and lingo unique to them. With them being a family, the lingo just seemed deeper, more entrenched. The hand signals had become instinct, and the inside jokes were extremely guarded. Fio and Shane had worked together on a previous crew, but it was such a large organization that they had never interacted, only heard reputations and stories. Shane found himself very early on trusting Fio, who hadn’t failed him yet. When Shane stood from the table, Fio went to catch him, but Stella’s resetting of the rib removed most of the pain. Instead, Shane just patted his friend on the back as he left the med bay.

He limped into the common area, which had no one inside. Shane took it as an opportunity to sit down on the nice orange couch in the center of the room. His eyes scanned and put a deep regret on Shane’s chest. The dark wood bar, with orange neon lining it, sat twenty feet away.

Luckily, when tried standing, Fio pushed him back down and asked, “Your usual?” Shane let a wide smile go across his face.

“Yes, thank you, my friend.” He then settled down and grabbed a nearby glass display and swiped so a hundred-inch piece of glass descended from the ceiling. “Perhaps there’s a race today.” He pressed the display so the entertainment complex would start. Shane immediately changed the stream to the Sports and saw two teams of three playing Tetra-Ball, a game he couldn’t care less about. “Damnit,” he sighed out.

Fio looked at the complex and raised an eyebrow as he said, “It’s Tetra-Ball. A female… game of… Tetra-Ball.” Shane looked over to Fio’s eyes, which were becoming entranced by the bodies on screen.

“It’s not even in season. Seeding games are too reserved. Nothing gets done, male or female.” He glanced back again and still saw Fio’s eyes locked on the screen. A smile crawled across Shane’s face as he brought the glass display up. He swiped and watched Fio's eyes go wide.

“Hey! What are you-” Shane laughed and looked back at the complex, becoming entranced himself. It was “Across Provinces” a series dedicated to examining ships and stations in the galaxy. The one episode in particular examined Wave Station.

“Fio, come on, look at that view.”

“I preferred the last one.” Shane grinned at the humor before falling back into the image.

Wave Station was also known as Raiken Station. The powerful Raiken family, one of many in vehicle manufacturing, built it. Their CR-11s were almost masterpieces, but way outside of Shane’s price range, hopefully not for long. To Shane, though, their greatest creation was Wave Station. It sat in the orbit of a gaseous system called Vexsis. The atmosphere of elements created a swirling mix of wintery blue, a simple grey, and an ivory white. As a child, Shane had been so obsessed with the system, he memorized every element that made those colors. His work had forced that knowledge out, leaving only his admiration.

The host of the series said with a calm luxurious tone, “The cost range of a penthouse on Raiken station starts as low as fifty million in Veerian Currency all the way to three hundred million. That three hundred million going to the crown jewel of Raiken Station: Embrace Penthouse.” Immediately, a set of doors slid opposite one another into their respective walls and showed the penthouse. Passed the dark polished wood floors and furred couches, Shane saw the thousand-kilometer-wide storm that blended the blue, grey, and white into a harmonious chaos. The windows of the penthouse were tall and wide, so there was little to no obstruction of the view.

“Fio, come on! Look at that.” Fio nodded.

“Yeah, I can’t deny that.”

“Exactly,” Shane said. He loved Vexsis, especially being so far into his career. Habitat Preservation turned lush green systems into a sight of work. A gas system meant nothing at all. No life for it to hold so nothing to preserve. Just a masterpiece of the Light for Shane to stare at. It was a wonderful thing, but the enchantment ended when Hark entered the room.

He commented, “Oh, that’s gorgeous,” then quickly transitioned, “We already got another contract. It’s an Assembly one.”

Shane slowly stood from the couch as he said, “Means someone let their ego get too big, I bet.” Hark nodded.

“I suspect the same. Wants to meet in person. Don’t do that unless you don’t want a record.”

Fio added, “Puts the leverage on our side for negotiations.” Hark smiled at the statement.

He shifted his gaze to Shane and said, “He’s getting it.”

“Yes, he is.” Shane and Fio followed Hark into the guide room. A massive table sat in the middle of the room with a glass pane sitting inside its frame. There, sitting at a desk twenty feet away, snugged inside an observation cubby, was Stella with Lora, her ten-year-old daughter. Her skin glowed as she watched Lora listen to her baby brother’s little dances.

When he entered, Lora came running up to Shane and asked, “Are you okay?”

Shane replied, “I’ll survive. Takes more than a lizard to take me down.” Lora grew a big smile on her face before she hugged him. It filled him with a joy and warmth he hadn’t felt in a while.

Lora then stepped away and asked, “Could I come with you on one?” Shane looked up and saw Stella’s face. He knew from their conversations that both Stella and Glin wanted their girl to be a girl, a safe girl. Any indulgence of adventure near a Preservation Crew meant she’d want to join one in the future. Shane didn’t understand the fear. He only ever used his intelligence, will, and reflexes on contracts. Too much currency had been put into Preservation for there to still be a need for raw strength. He even looked down at his rib and realized Z5s were quite the investment.

Shane replied, “I think that’s a question for your father,” to avoid the whole thing. Glin suddenly appeared from the common room corridor.

“Oh, glad to see the Light guided you out of that one.” Shane let a grin grow over his face as Stella stood from her desk.

“I don’t think anything went dark at any point, but yes.”

Stella waddled over with her pregnant belly and said, “You were at risk all the same.” Shane thought he saw her eyes suddenly look down at Lora, but he wasn’t sure. If Stella was trying to signal Shane to say something for Lora’s benefit, the Steelens should’ve learned a long time ago that he didn’t do such things.

Lora instead asked, “Can I go with you on another one?” to her father. Stella shot a glance at Glin.

After a few seconds of staring, Glin told his daughter, “How about the next time I set up the ground camp, you come with me? A distant observation of what we do.” Shane let another massive smile grow over his face. Lora did a quiet little dance in celebration before kissing her father’s cheek and scurrying off into the ship.

Shane saw Stella send a glare at Glin. Something that was none of his business was about to unfold, but everything had been avoided when Hark said, “Well,” bringing everyone’s attention back to the center of the room. “The Assembly wants us to meet their representative on Misan.” Fio leaned against the glass table.

“Little luxurious for a back-alley deal.” Hark simply shrugged as his son and daughter-in-law prepared the ship.

“I will say I found it strange, but so is meeting in person for a contract.” Hark suddenly threw his hand out. Both he and Fio had forgotten about the Lightway’s light jolt. Shane was already holding onto to something, of course. His chest demanded it.

Misan took half a day’s journey across the Lightway. Shane spent most of that time on the orange couch, taking the time to study his body. The ostepropellants were doing well. Shane’s rib wouldn’t be fully healed by the end of the jump, but most likely, before they started the contract. He did want to get used to the pain, though. That’s why when Hark asked for someone to come with, Shane volunteered, automatically adding Fio to the group.

“Doesn’t hurt to have extra muscle,” were Hark’s exact words. Shane threw on a thin black dress shirt and closed the magnetic seam. He checked the mirror, no blood on the fabric. The medical wrappings were done properly. With that, Shane tossed on a red leather jacket and followed Fio into the Steelan’s cargo bay.

They reversed the Carter-Dixon down and drove the vehicle into Misan’s Council Seat. The rays of the province above beamed a wonderful warmth. When Shane looked to his right, he could see Hark drove them along a coastline; one clearly manufactured. The sand looked too fine and the water glittered too much. Misan, as a system, had never been touched by a Habitat Engineering team. All of it reeked of leisure companies and appraisal firms. Families and young couples waded in the water, playing around as people do, while the other vehicles on the street were filled with shoppers about to go on a spree. The buildings caught Shane’s eye, though. Massive towers of glass had entire gardens and boutique villages some forty stories above. Glass walkways continued to shift and cascade the province’s light over the Carter Dixon driving beneath them. Shane had gone to a similar system many years ago. Some species of fluffy creature had bred so quickly that the luscious jungle the corporation made disappeared at a rate of an acre a day. Shane didn’t like how they finished that job and pushed it out of his mind. Luckily, the vehicle’s gentle stop made it easier.

“The rep says he’s on the fiftieth floor. A restaurant named Provincial Kiss,” Hark said. Shane and Fio both nodded as they stepped out of the Dixon. Shane always turned around to watch the parking complex lower the vehicle into the underground garage. He never trusted the thing was secure until he saw himself. Once Hark’s wrist display notified him of the currency charge, Shane had no choice but to follow them inside the compound. They stepped onto the polished granite floor of a wide-open space. Adverts sparkled across the building, drawing customers into their stores. Fio’s finger immediately stabbed toward the ceiling.

“They’d let you land that anywhere.” Shane followed Fio to a K.A.X. Omen-3; the perfect bachelor’s ship. Any young man with enough money could find themselves flying anywhere. And Fio was right, an Omen rarely got rejected by towers. It floated in mid-air, all eighty feet of its wingspan, suspended by a magnetic scaffolding hidden somewhere in the building’s architecture. It had a thin profile, almost like a blade, with a long tail behind its back. The cockpit sunk into the body of it, making it a streamlined craft. 

Shane said, “Sexy is a universal language, isn’t it?” putting a grin on both him and Fio. Hark called out, drawing their attention to an elevation chamber.

“How about you Hark? Planning on retiring?” Fio asked as the floors of metal and glass flashed in front of them.

Hark replied, “Yes,” then turned and pointed at the coastline view behind them, “Right there.”

Shane's eyes went wide before he said, “Thought you would have been doing this until your heart stopped.” A small, but obvious, frown went over Hark’s face.

“It hasn’t been that much fun without Pelia around.” Shane felt his own heart get heavy at the name, enough to make him forget his rib. Last time the name had put tears in Lora’s eyes. Hark’s wife had died two years before Shane joined the Steelans. He knew nothing of her, just that her death wasn’t horrid or anything along those lines. The kingdoms and A.R.M.S. all made laws that obligated Preservation Crews to give a list of all deaths during contract. The Steelans had no names appear on their data, so she must have died naturally somehow. She clearly left a hole in them all, one that Shane knew drove Fio mad. Many times, he tried to change how something was done during a contract but heard Pelia’s name in the counter. Shane wondered if that’s why Fio’s eye spotted the Omen. He suspected Fio wouldn’t be on the crew much longer.

The chamber doors opened and Hark stepped forward into another massive space. This time, luxurious vehicles sat on rotating podiums, catching the province’s rays across their driver doors. A sudden flick of movement in Shane’s peripherals helped him find the Provincial Kiss on his left. The sign above the door was a water display. An amber sphere floated in a glass frame before flicking into a sharp cursive that spelled the restaurant’s name. When Shane followed Hark inside, he noticed how much of the place was glass. Usually, Shane saw a habitat take up a whole wall with creatures swimming around or some projections on a metal wall. Instead, he only saw different kinds of prisms. It reminded him of Brodil’s engineering. The man Hark was sitting across had the province at his left side, so Shane could only see half of his face.

He seemed good looking in the average sense. The man had no chance of being a model for something, but the ring on his hand wasn’t strange for him to have at such a young age. Shane’s eyes quickly went to his attire after that. Even with custom jackets and pants, everything looked large on him. Still, he gave Hark what looked like a strong enough handshake that he wouldn’t fall over. For a man who wanted to meet on a system like Misan, he was rather pale. Shane shook his hand and sat down, close enough to adjust to the province’s light. His eyes were a dull green, with stick straight black hair. A hooked nose cast a shadow over his cleft chin. The man’s cheeks were quite defined, but Shane knew it came from his weight. 

“Mister Steelan, who are these gentlemen?”

Hark replied, “That one’s Shane, the other is Fio. Whatever the contract is, they’ll be on it.”

The man nodded and said, “Very good,” as a server placed a plate of food in front of him. “Thank you, sir.” Their mysterious representative grabbed his fork and knife. Shane took the opportunity to look at the staff. All of them had on dress attire vests with a tight high collar. They also kept a stick straight regal posture. When Shane watched the man’s server turn around, he saw the back of the collar had crawled up the man’s skull. The place was owned by someone from the Cendorian Kingdom, Shane had no doubts about that. Only the Cendorian culture forced manners into the attire and based on the almost fluid motion of the servers, they were all Cendorian as well. A place like Provincial Kiss on an Edge Kingdom’s system seemed strange, but so was meeting a man for a contract as Hark said.

The guide watched the man finish a few bites of his food before asking, “Could I ask why all the espionage, mister…”

The man quickly replied, “It’s not espionage, Mister Steelan. The Assembly wants to keep this in their hands before they have to make a public report. I can’t imagine many spymasters meet in restaurants with the province setting.” The man turned to his left, into the orange light of the province. “Look at that sight.” Shane didn’t disagree. Even though the province was nowhere near the horizon, it already bled florescent pinks and a fiery amber orange over the sky. Shane traced the rays pouring into the restaurant. Somehow, the glass architecture stored the amber glow in each table and the four corner prisms lit the whole room evenly in an amber blanket. Shane could have sat there all day, but when he turned back, he saw another detail about the man that made him ignore it all.

He had a prosthetic; one he didn’t try to hide or show off. Shane knew little about them other than the Designist debate. For such a dangerous job, Shane had managed to keep himself intact. This man’s right arm, the one that shook Shane’s, was dark steel, but very anatomical. The sheet of metal that acted as his skin was thin enough that Shane could see whatever cables that acted as tendons move in his hand as he held his knife.

“Anyway,” the man said, “Would you gentlemen like to eat or get to it?” Hark stared at the rep. “The latter. I understand.” The man reached down and drew up a black metal briefcase. “They made it clear you’re one who wants to know particulars. Context is a Habitat Engineer by the name of High Fellow Jaren Brosh was caught conducting experiments outside of his duties.”

Fio commented, “Duties. So not contracted.”

The man pointed at Fio and said, “Correct,” then clarified, “Duties for the crown of the kingdom we are sitting in now. He sent his complete customary report and sought out permission to create the Seeding Pod with the data. It was granted, but he didn’t give the regular update to the catalogue. Now, since the Assembly is simply a sentinel of reputation, not a recognized authority, they advised His Majesty and expected nothing else from it. Within thirty hours, they were granted full authority from the Crown. What they found is what you are to investigate.” Hark chuckled.

“Investigate, since when did I become Crown Guard?” The man waved his hand down, hoping to settle Hark.

“You’re right. That was a poor word choice. What they found is what you will be hunting.”

Shane finally spoke. “Shoot to kill. Not even an attempt to capture?” The man nodded.

“I’ve been told that is not possible. That’s why,” the man reached into his briefcase, which put Shane and Fio’s hands on their weapons. He waved them down and pulled out a small silver square. A quiet slide across the table placed it in Hark’s hands. “You’ll be given half now and half later.” Shane knew it was a currency marker. How much it represented, he didn’t know, he did know only men he found suspect, to say the least, used them.

“I’ll need more than a marker and a vague story.” Hark said. The man nodded and pulled out another piece of silver. An inch thick disk, a data drive most likely.

“That will have all the information the Assembly’s acquired for the hunt. I was told you’d understand the word Abnormal.” Shane knew it well. Abnormal: a status given to creatures, environments, or processes that had either gone awry or were not approved for creation by the Assembly. Not approved made up about forty percent of Abnormal statuses. Shane looked over and saw Fio’s jaw clench.

Once he made eye contact with Shane, who gave him a nod, he asked, “Did they give you a classification?” The man had stopped chewing the moment he heard the question.

He swallowed whatever sat in his mouth and replied, “Yes… D3.” Shane immediately chuckled.

“That’s some deep lizard shit mystery man.” The man shrugged.

“I’ve worked with enough fellows to know what that means. But I’ve been told you’ve faced a fair share of D3s before.” There was some silence over the table as the province continued to set. The man’s prosthetic reached through the amber rays. “If you won’t take the job, then I’ll need the marker back.” Hark sighed and then glanced at both Fio and Shane. Neither man gave a reaction, putting it all down to Hark. They sat in the amber glow, letting Hark think in silence. Shane saw his fingers twirling the marker. He had been with the Steelans long enough to know if that much thought had been given, Hark was taking the contract. The thinking went to selling it to Glin and Stella, perhaps Stella more than Glin. He finally looked up at the man and gave him a nod. Suddenly, the man’s hands were back in his briefcase as he pulled out a palm sized glass cube. He placed it on the table and made the glass glow blood red. The man swiped until two sets of blank digital documents displayed on the surface. “These are two data drafts. I’m here to serve as the transmitter of the contract between your crew and the Assembly. The background data you see in the small frame over here is a transcript of our discussion. My S.I., as you can see, is creating another contract between the Assembly and you.”

Fio stated, “Double voucher seems overkill.” The man grinned.

“The double voucher is my group’s standard policy.” A name popped into Shane’s mind.

“You work for the Solicitor General.” The man nodded. Again, Shane knew little about the Solicitor General or any of his Solicitors. He just knew that on one contract, the presence of one made his Head Guide uneasy. And that one from many years ago had the same well done black attire and clandestine behavior. Fio’s sudden lack of color in his face told Shane he knew more about them.

The man asked, “So, is everything good enough for your signature, or would you like to read over them?”

Hark replied, “I’d like to send these to a friend of mine if that’s alright. He was a former contract advocate.” The man nodded.

“Yes, the Assembly told me you would ask. He’s expecting the documents. Once both parties agree to terms, I’ll begin a signing.” That was enough for Hark to stand and shake the man’s hand again.

“We’ll be waiting. Enjoy your meal.” The man gave a nod, shook Shane's and Fio’s hands, then sat back down. As they left the restaurant, Shane made sure to take another look at the man. He had closed his eyes and basked in the light of the setting province.

Shane sat on the orange couch again, watching the glass display. His rib had fully connected, but the bone wouldn’t solidify for a while. A discussion was underway somewhere on the ship about the contract details. Since it had been over an hour of silence, Shane figured someone would come out soon. He’d stay still until they arrived and let the bone harden a little more. Eventually, Glin appeared from the nearby corridor, trying to hide some anger. Shane didn’t really care; the dynamics would be stable again within the hour. Hark followed a minute after.

“It’s all set. We’re officially on contract to hunt a D3.” Shane nodded as he stood from the couch.

“How much was the marker?” Hark tossed the cold metal to him.

As Shane held it in his palm, Hark replied, “Five million Cendorian.” Shane felt all the blood rush out of his face. ‘Half now, half later’ had reappeared in Shane’s mind. A total of ten million in Cendorian currency waited in their future. It wouldn’t get Shane on Wave Station, but it was a good start. Shane looked down at the marker again and felt his stomach drop. He knew Fio would quit the moment he got his cut of the prize. Shane wondered what he would do. Hark said, “We’ll have the briefing soon. I haven’t looked at the thing myself, so we’ll see if it’s worth all the chatter.” Shane gave a nod and watched Hark follow Glin out.

Ten minutes passed before everyone was inside the guide room. Hark got a nod from everyone and placed down the disk the Solicitor gave them. All the data burst out with the beams of a hologram. In the center of the projections stood the Abnormality; a white-skinned beast with four legs. When Shane looked closer, he saw that the skin was composed of small smooth scales. His eyes traced the creature up its long, slender neck to the head. Blood red eyes stared out, while its mouth held the same teeth of a Saber Lizard, putting a massive tooth on either side of its mouth. An eel-like frill ran down both sides of its neck. The tail sat at its end and each of its legs carried a set of three short but thick talons. Of course, short being relative to its size. Shane looked at the data scrolling around the creature and saw an image. A claw print was made in the soil. The engineers had measured it at three foot three inches. Its length was estimated to be between fourteen and twenty feet. Even on all four of its legs, the creature stood nine feet tall.

Hark explained all of its genetics. All Shane remembered was that it was a hybrid of thirty different sets of genetic fabric. No more context of Fellow Brosh’s motives was given. All that remained was where the creature was. A moon orbiting a giant gaseous system named Solon. If the system was named, then many other moons in its orbit were settled. The one selected would become such a place once the abnormality died. Lush vegetation, fertile soil, good healthy rains, it would be an agricultural system. Most likely, an agricultural system that would do most of its exporting to the orbiting Solon systems. Shane had read more barons and dukes were interested in ‘Isolated Provinces’. If the Crown had commissioned the construction of one, it must have been his own claim. That was irrelevant to the contract though. Shane just finally understood why the secrecy and ‘espionage’ as Hark put it.

The Steelan crew sent the ship towards Solon and spent three days on the Lightway before finally arriving in the province. Once the ship’s Veil pulled back, Shane found himself in another state of awe.

Solon most likely doubled the size of Vexsis. Whatever gases made it created a series of warm tans and browns along with massive streaks of grey. Its entire equator was just a band of thousands of storms raging in and out of one another. Already, with only having just entered the province, Shane could see a few dozen small specks he knew were Solon’s moons. The province of Solon, Pilix, was an orange beast that kept a steady anchor to the area. Within a minute, the Steelans were entering Solon’s orbit, putting that beast’s light in an orange ring around the system’s atmosphere. Shane felt a joy flood over him as he watched the storms move, but it was short-lived. Soon, the ship was engulfed in flame as Hark sent it through the atmosphere of the moon. Once they got through, Solon towered through the haze of a blue sky, and everyone was ordered to their gear.

Shane got on the Flesh Z5, his knife, and, since it was a hunt, he grabbed the Steelan’s HLR-M3; a rifle made by Meldor Manufacturing, specially designed for Preservation Crews. It was an energy weapon that launched the laser bolt straight at a target. One of its energy cartridges had thirty expulsions to fire. The one issue Shane had was the Abnormality had four-inch-thick skin. The M3 had been made for fauna with less bulk than that. Shane looked over at Fio and saw him grab the harpoon launcher.

“Why are you going with that?” Shane asked.

Fio planted his helmet onto his Z5 suit and said through the communications platform, “Figured I’d poison the bastard if that doesn’t work.” It was a proper strategy. The abnormality was powerful but still flesh. No matter what fabric flowed inside the creature, it wasn’t resistant to Scythe Spit. An extremely valuable thing that preservation crews often found themselves getting for free. Scythes were the most common nuisance crews had to deal with. Most Scythes were usually killed by entire industrial hunting expeditions since they either got big, or were ‘rogue’ as the Observers put it. Shane had killed at least a dozen ‘rogues’ throughout his career. And every time, the Guide willingly lost a cut in currency to harvest the spit. If done properly, a crew would walk away from a Scythe with a gallon. Whether dry or wet, Scythe Spit was toxic. Even if the gland in a Scythe itself burst, the creature died within a minute. And since the Steelans had no plans to eat the creature, there was no problem delivering the poison. Shane felt glad Fio took it upon himself to use the spit. It would feel a burn, but it would be dead before it could cry. The best they could do with such a beast.

Fio marched down the entry ramp of the cargo bay. The ship’s engines were muted by the suit but still filled the air. Shane did a light jog, then hopped down the three feet and watched as the ship took off into the sky.

Finally, Hark’s voice came through the platform, “Glin’s getting himself ready right now. You two get the data from the Seeding Pod while he sets up a camp at the thing’s last known.”

Shane chuckled as he said, “Ah, give your boy the cushy jobs.”

Hark replied, “Oh no, Lora gave him the easy job. Wouldn’t let him forget his promise. I just wasn’t willing to fight on her on it.”

“Surprising,” Fio said, which made Hark laugh. Shane, though, noticed a hint of bitterness in his saying of it. Luckily, once the ship left, there could be no communication between them since the camp hadn’t been built.

Shane took the opportunity and asked, “Are you staying with this crew after this?” as they hacked through the thick forest. Fio kept his eyes forward, looking for anything dangerous.

“I don’t know. I don’t like this dynamic, Shane. Glin isn’t part of this team because Lora wants to go on an adventure, but it’s actually because Stella doesn’t want to watch her husband get eaten so she’s fine with us hunting the D3.”

Shane countered, “Industrial crews were much different in terms of expendability.” Fio stayed ahead.

“But that one you could argue, and something would actually change. If two people were friends or more than friends and started making different calls because of it, then they were separated or one was taken off the crew. It’s an easy fix. Glin took my spot last time because he knew I was getting sick of it, but still nothing’s going to change.”

Shane let a silence linger before he asked, “Wouldn’t you feel bad leaving them? They’re decent people and the brothers aren’t coming back it seems.” Fio simply shrugged as they continued forward. It was all completely reasonable, at least to Shane. He had the same thoughts himself. Still, they were the best crew he’s been with, that made leaving for anything other than retirement a mistake. Retirement though, became a possibility in Shane’s mind with this currency. With such a high-end and exotic crew like the Steelans, Shane’s allowance had grown quite well. Ten million currency for the whole crew meant Shane was getting at least a few hundred thousand. Most of the bulk share went into the Steelans operation, which made sense of course. Shane didn’t like that their personal fees were excluded in that cut, but he never argued. After the Abnormality, both Fio and Shane would have more than a million waiting for them. The hunter realized his mind had wandered too much. He still had to finish the contract before he could see the currency.

He brought his eyes back forward and kept a diligent watch for half an hour, bending, slicing, and climbing through the forest, until the pair had reached the seeding pod. It had been a while since he had to retrieve data from one but still looked the same as the last. Since it acted as the origin of the once desolate moon’s life, a foot thick shell of vines, roots, and flowers caked the pod. Hundreds of little creatures scurried around it, mostly pollinators. The surrounding flowers were the oldest and healthiest, so it was an easy choice for the creatures. Shane had read a whole informant article about how entire hives had tripled their populations just to compete for the pod. The Z5 wouldn’t let the creatures through, so Shane drew his knife and began cutting away at the green hill in front of him. After only a few minutes and some unconventional uses of his M3, Shane got through to the metal.

The pod had begun to rust, which wasn’t an issue. In fact, Shane just punched through a patch of rust and reached for the data bay. With a light rip, Shane had the thing in his hand. It was a black metal cylinder completely untouched by the elements, except for the one slithering creature coiled at its center. After it tried and failed to bite Shane, the creature slithered into the long thick grass and disappeared among the trees. Shane handed it to Fio and scanned around the forest as a quick watch. Amongst the hundred-foot-tall trees were creatures flying, jumping, and buzzing about. Whole carpets of flowers went along the forest floor while moss saturated every trunk of every tree, but there was no threat. The Abnormality must have left a long time ago. Fio tapped Shane’s shoulder, and they were walking back to the creature’s last known location.

As they walked, Glin’s voice had come through their communications, “How are we gentleman?”

Shane quickly replied, “We have the data bay,” as they continued forward.

“Very good, very good. I’m only a hundred feet from you guys. Bring it up and I’ll go through it.”

“Seems rather pointless, doesn’t it? Assembly gave us all the data we needed on the thing.”

After some silence Glin came back through and said, “One of the small details in the contract was that the Assembly wanted Fellow Brosh’s work. Nice bonus for that.” Shane felt his stomach twist. For all the work to kill the creature like it was an abomination, the Assembly wanted its data to copy a masterpiece. Shane didn’t think along that path any further. Once his foot stepped out into a large clearing, his mind went back to the hunt. He approached and handed Glin the bay as he continued scanning the forest. That’s when he suddenly noticed Lora playing with a flower only five feet from Glin’s camp.

Shane walked over and asked, “How you doing kid?” She replied by holding up a massive pink flower.

“Look at how pretty this is!” Shane agreed. The pink of the flower was the same kind found in the deep setting of a province and spread across ten thick petals.

“Beautiful.” Shane took it from her and then popped it in her hair, just behind her ear. “But now it’s prettier.” Immediately after that, Lora gave Shane a big hug.

“You’re a good friend, Shane.” The man felt a stab in his heart. Somehow, in one moment, the man decided to stay with the Steelans for as long as he could.

“You make it easy Lora.” That put a tighter squeeze on Shane, one that he couldn’t feel at all because of the Z5. Yet it still gave him great joy. Glin came over and stood beside Lora as she let go of Shane.

“That’s beautiful, my love.” Lora immediately turned around with a big smile.

“Can we take some with us?” Glin shrugged and let a grin slip onto his face.

“I don’t see why not.” The girl did her quick little dance before she started picking more. Shane watched her skip through the fields. Glin poked the glass of his helmet, bringing him back to the task. “I’ll stay with her. You and Fio can check the bay, see if there’s anything else about the thing you can know.” Shane gave a nod and met Fio on the small metal platform with a complex on it. The other hunter stared into the complex.

“Find anything?” Shane asked.

“No not really. Big dangerous thing. I watched it get out of its egg, which means the Fellow had it for quite some time before he added it to the pod. Little thing scurried straight away into a storm and that’s all that exists in the visual archive. A few unidentified roars occurred throughout the year. Other than that, nothing. It’s definitely here though.” Shane nodded then turned back to the forest surrounding them. Lora and Glin were still playing in the flowers as the rest of the clearing sat empty. A pulse of adrenaline shot through him when he scanned the trees.

He didn’t know why until he shifted back left. Two ovals of red stood sixty yards from him, unbelievably still in the thick brush beneath the massive trees. After some time, the green that surrounded them became out of place. Bushes were suddenly cut off, a tree trunk disappeared behind a wall of green.

“Glin grab Lora and hold still,” Shane said as he slowly raised his M3 up. Fio was about to act, but Shane shot his hand out and snatched him. “Don’t move.” The man stayed staring at the display while Shane kept his eyes on the red dots. A chill shot down his spine when he stared into the color. He had locked eyes with the Abnormality.

He checked his peripherals and saw Lora and Glin holding still. The sound of sniffles were being made. Shane whispered into the communications, “Glin, she can’t start crying.” Glin slowly got low and crouched so he could hug Lora tighter. “Hark, you need to bring the ship and get this thing.”

The man replied, “I’m ten minutes out.” Shane started stepping forward, off the metal platform. In his peripheral, Fio’s harpoon laid in the grass. Slowly, Shane switched out his M3 for it and brought it up to his eye. The launcher’s sight was Hive Vision.

“Fio slowly reach for your wrist and switch this to conduction.” Shane knew from the data that the creature was cold-blooded so thermal would be useless. The thing would still create an energy field with its eel frill. After a few seconds, Shane watched the scope go from glass to a deep blue, with a massive white creature outlined, looking directly into his eyes.

Shane’s adrenaline had flooded into his blood at the sight. His heart sprinted out of his chest and sweat soaked every inch of his body. It was nothing like he felt before. He knew the harpoon well. Being sixty yards from the creature was too far. It only had a reliable range of forty. Every ounce of him wanted him to just stay still and wait for Hark, but that all changed when he watched one of the outlined legs on the conduction display take a step forward. The Abnormal wanted to charge. Shane had to get it before it tried hurting anyone. With a deep breath in and out, Shane mimicked the creature and took a step forward. As he did, he watched the thing lower its head down, its eyes trained on him. Shane’s hand crawled over to his display and swiped so the Z5 readied for the thing’s pounce. Whether it would survive was unknown to Shane. Such a creature didn’t even exist on any database when the suit was invented, but there was nothing he could change about it.

He took another step and watched a set of muscles in the creature change position. It was only a few seconds away from charging. Shane stopped, took one massive breath as he prepared himself for whatever came next, and rushed at the creature. His sprint of ten yards sent the thing into a thumping twenty-yard dash straight at him. Each step sent a shockwave into the ground that forced Shane to hold still as he lined up the harpoon. He watched it open its mouth with the pull of his trigger, then a massive pain slapped him on his right side. His roar filled the forest. The suit had been deployed, becoming a hundred pounds heavier. Shane slammed to the ground. Before he could even try to recover, another pain went across his back. A chunk of weight had fallen off his suit. After that, his whole chest collapsed as the creature clamped its jaw down on him. That loss of weight must have been a layer of the suit’s rock chipped off because the pressure of the bite was breaking Shane. He roared out in pain as the creature shifted him in its mouth, each move adding more and more pressure. Four of his ribs snapped in half. His howl grew even louder until his throat started filling with blood and drowned him out.

A big thump brought Shane and the beast down to the ground. The spit had finally stopped the creature’s heart, but Shane laid trapped in its mouth, and his breath had shortened. Fio sprinted over and ripped him out, sending flourishes of pain throughout his chest. More and more blood filled his throat as Fio ripped off the man’s helmet. Glin ran over to help, shouting for his father to land the ship.

The last thing Shane saw was Lora’s face full of tears then he shut his eyes, wondering if he’d ever open them again.

Saber

 A chilling breeze came across the rooftop as twinkling provinces decorated the night. Saber felt strange not finding them to be the most beautiful thing in her sight, but the glass towers of Coensus were what caught her eye. Their height cut the little grey puffs moving across the black sky in half as they flowed over the city. Another pop caught Saber’s attention. When she followed the sound, a bright red flash of color dissipated into the black. Celebration was still underway for the first day of the Coensus Plunder. The system would be dense with tourists from all three Edge Kingdoms, the Cendorian Kingdom, and A.R.M.S. Hundreds of companies and governments showed off their new toys to the masses. All hangars were occupied with a ship from some other province within the galaxy, vehicles took foreigners across the Council Seat for a celebration; a perfect environment for Saber and her Ego technology. Since the target hadn’t arrived yet, Saber quickly examined herself. Her long body sat in the toned silhouette of the bodysuit. Running along the inside of her thigh, she knew a net of thousands of small projectors were waiting to be powered for her transformation. The slightly bulky wrist display had a hard connection to her… well, actually, it wasn’t connected to anything. The battery would pulse the needed energy into the suit, but no complex put any data into the projectors. It baffled Saber how powerful she was sometimes.

Her beauty though, there was never a doubt in her mind why she looked so good in the black bodysuit. Many times, in the mirror, she found herself entranced with the body she had crafted over her years. A toned backside let her jump higher while making her men’s desire. The legs that carried it weren’t too thick and weren’t too thin, showing a life of genuine activity, not just artificial stimulation like most of the people on Coensus. Her chest maybe was a little small for her frame, but she never received a complaint. Perhaps she should’ve listened to her mother and become a model for those aesthetic companies. Unfortunately, Saber inherited her father’s addiction. Her heart started pounding beneath that chest as her wrist display notified her. She sat up from the glass balcony rail and brought up her Hive Visionaries. Her target rolled in with his HT-Soaring by Hierarchy Vehicles. The grey four-doored blocky beast stayed two feet off the ground with four silver metal spheres. When her target arrived at his location, the spheres shut off their magnetic tether, lowering him those two feet for his exit. A petite woman held his hand this time. With her target preparing for his entry into Lovelies Club, Saber switched the sight of her Hive Visionaries to Conduction. She needed to see the electrical current of the man’s security. If the rumors were true, the men beside him would have one flowing through them. Disgust sat in her heart when those rumors were confirmed. Every single one of his men had an electrical current that fit the primitive flow of a Bloodline Prosthetic. He was a Mechanical Supremacist. Saber realized, though, that she didn’t really care in terms of strategy. She could hide, fight, become one if she needed to. For the moment, she had only one more thing to scan. The HT-Soaring had its electrical flow in the usual places, except the motor spheres. The four currents flowed heavier than the company’s standard model. Of course, a man of her target’s stature, more luxuries were certainly inside.

Another pop went off to her right. It left a bright green this time. Out of curiosity, Saber flicked her Visionaries over to see the source. A few miles out, there was a luxury vessel holding all the usual partiers. Women showing off their sculpted bodies, men trying to acquire said bodies, and the more focused people who wanted someone specific. That was enough information for the moment; it was time.

Saber put the Visionaries in their utility holster and drew her Exact from the same belt. The beautiful weapon with twelve round magazines and a tactical slide was more accurate than any energy weapon, or at least any Saber had used. Perhaps it was a biased view since it was a gift from her mother, but it never failed her. Once she felt satisfied with the weapon’s readiness, Saber went to her wrist display. She swiped through and first activated her magnet grapple before powering the thousands of projectors in her suit. Small dots of light twinkled across her body. To the outside observer, there was nothing. Usually, some parts of the Ego technology recorded the surrounding area, so it knew what part of the environment it had to project. Saber’s power removed half the technology needed for the suit. Her peripherals were all that was needed for her mind to complete the image for any observer. All that remained was for Saber to get down onto the street. 

She stepped over the glass rail and lowered her right hand onto the metal beam that spanned the entire height of the skyscraper. After one deep breath, she threw her feet out into the air and felt her right hand grip to the building. She hung from only the sixty-first floor, but the sight below still stirred her stomach. She brought the magnet’s power down to thirty percent. The wind rushed through her short black hair while every floor whooshed by in a steady rhythm. Lines of vehicle light grew bigger with every second. Finally, the sidewalk appeared. She swiped and slowed herself to a gentle stop seven feet above the ground. When the magnet turned off, she hopped down and stood on the street of the Council Seat. Those small pops of color were bursting all over the city. Saber checked her display time. The first day of the Coensus Plunder was about to end. Of course, the celebrations never ended. Someone would always be awake, doing something wild to mark the annual festivity.  Saber, though, had to get on her ship and leave this province before Divitiae rose over the maze of glass towers.

Through the lines of oblivious pedestrians, Saber found the entrance to the Lovelies Club. A booming base played on the custom laser cylindric index, flashing lights along with the fast beat. Saber couldn’t predict what the lights would do. Instead, she had to make a constant appearance for herself. What did she want to look like? The mood of the filled club: people wanted their desires fulfilled for the night. A sexy attire would blend her in, but that would only get her so far. Eventually, a guard would want to stop her, ask questions. She quickly made her decision after that thought. Saber had the perfect image of one of the target’s henchmen formed in her mind and took on the form. She stood as tall as most men, so it wasn’t shocking when a shorter man looked up at her and gave a quick face of fear in a perfect light flash. Clearly her image of a broad chested man with a deep scar down the side of his temple was successfully projected. Saber grinned as she buttoned her illusionary attire jacket and scanned the flashing room for her target. Red, blue, green, bright white, and purple flashed in quick succession as magnets at the end of the room, made colored bubbles of water flow in a sensuous dance above the patrons. In all that visual chaos, she saw a man doing the exact opposite. Up on a second floor, looking down on the dance floor, a man tapped behind his ear while he stood in a rigid guard. Saber didn’t hesitate moving towards him. He most likely guarded some sort of luxury platform where her target played with that girl of his. A disguised Saber pushed through the crowd to a large ramp on the left side leading to the upper platforms. The black glass floor slowly brought Saber to her rigid guard. In the flashing lights, Saber could see the reflection of the man’s prosthetic arm. This is when it occurred to her. She needed to add some prosthetic to her disguise. It already had a scar at the temple, so she simply added a prosthetic eye to match the injury. The flashing lights covered the shuttering of the projectors as they switched the eye. Saber learned long ago simply being confident got her anywhere. As she passed by the guard, he gave her a strange glance, but all she did was nod and entered the luxury platform. The man didn’t want to get in trouble, make a fool of himself, or worse, be wrong, so he had no choice. Saber’s disguise became a real person in his detail. Of course, anyone of higher position on the target’s security team wouldn’t accept that, so she put herself in that sexy attire after all. After three rapid flashes of green, purple, and white, the broad chested security guard became that desire Saber admired so much.

Her toned legs would tease through the slit of her blue dress as she passed the other patrons. She couldn’t see the outfit, but she saw the reactions of those around her. Men gave a drooling stare while the other women gave that quick jealous glance. The security guards on the luxury platform simply noted her as she passed. Saber brought her sharp brown eyes, surrounded by a blue glittery shadow, over to the right side of the club. She noticed she could journey deeper into Lovelies on her side while a closed door stood on the right. Her target must’ve been behind that door. Saber pushed by the hidden bridge so she could scan the club below and rule it out. When she looked at Lovelies’ second, more exclusive, dance floor, all she saw were the usual celebrities. Mainstream artists, whether singers or theatrical entertainers, fashion artisans, and of course, one of the racers of the Coensus Plunder. Levis Velo had on his best attire as two women kept their bodies pressed against his. All the usual people, and no sign of her target. He was across that hidden bridge.

Saber strutted back and noticed a guard keeping a close eye on her. Her turning around was suspicious, but no one could act on it, yet. She simply passed by the man as his Bloodline Prosthetic eye dilated its old shutter. Adrenaline had just flowed through him. There would be a fight. Two men blocked off the right ramp while the luxury platforms by the door were cleared out. Her target had a very secure detail. It kept a wide perimeter, had an angle of every section of the club, each individual had training in melee combat, and the bridge, hidden behind the flowing water display, acted as a perfect funnel. Not only were the men physically superior, but they were Mechanically Superior as well. She would have to use their own momentum against them if she wanted to get to her target. Her slow walk ended at the start of the bridge. Already two large men waited for her at the other end while the rest of their team hidden in Lovelies started converging towards her. Saber couldn’t draw her Exact yet or she would reveal her Ego technology. With one deep breath, she started crossing, soaking herself in the jade of the levitating water. Her stride halted when the two guards took off their suit jackets. The magnetic seam on their dress shirts was pulled back so they could show their Mechanical Supremacy. Bloodline Prosthetics meant the cogs, wires, and cables shifted as the men readied themselves for a fight. Tinges of grins and smirks danced across their faces while unspoken whispers of jokes leaked from their minds. They were underestimating her. Their prosthetics put them above most men, but, unfortunately for them, Saber’s Ego Technology put her above everyone.

She could hear them thinking about their next moves. The one on her left wanted to throw a right hook while the other wanted to jab her straight in the stomach. All she had to do was throw herself against the left side rail of the bridge. Once that was done, she’d throw up two projections of herself and watch the two men fall. Saber heard their minds planning another set of moves, but it was pointless. She charged them, sank into that left glass rail, dodging both mechanical punches, then shined her projections. When the two men went to dodge her images’ punches, their skulls found one another. Their stunned state made Saber’s real jabs to their throats easy incapacitations. A sudden set of clanks behind Saber caused her to sprint for a nearby pillar. The moment she ducked behind it, she heard four rounds ricochet against the metal. Weapons previously holstered were drawn and opening fire on her. Saber knew she needed time to unlock the door, so these men had to be removed. She drew her Exact and sent out a projection into the open. Immediately, rounds were being fired, so Saber peered around the corner and saw two men shooting at the decoy. Before she heard their minds become confused, she took the time she needed to shoot out both of their kneecaps. With screams of panic filling the club, Saber went to her wrist display and hijacked the door’s keypad.

That hard click of the magnet coming undone signaled for Saber to plan. There would be at least six men behind the door. She could trick them and become one of their own, but it was too risky. She couldn’t engage in melee with Mechanical Supremacists fairly, and they already knew about her Ego Technology. Saber had to borrow from the C.S.F.’s strategy set. After she refocused with a single deep breath, Saber forced open the door and stepped back. No one fired, so the men were highly trained.

One voice yelled from the hall, “You two go, they could already be in the room.” Saber’s Exact remained in the Ego’s shroud, but when she fired, the weapon’s own flash would reveal her. That was her utility reason for not shooting the two men that came into the club. Her main one was she didn’t want to kill anyone unnecessarily. The career she chose only removed thieves, syndicate enforcers, cheats, and all other scavengers of society. Even if these men were Mechanical Supremacists, there were too many stories of men like them changing their ways for her to want them dead. As the two guards entered the club, Saber slipped past them and closed the door behind them, causing their friends in the hall to open fire at the doorway’s general area. Saber felt a round shift the air across her black hair. She slipped past and examined her surroundings.

Nitrogen coolers left chilling mist across the floor of a high-end kitchen. The marble counters were covered in sharp knives and unused ingredients for dishes. Three men pointed their weapons toward the door Saber had just entered. One was moving to unlock it for his two friends. Saber waited for the moment it opened. As the flashing-colored lights of the club started pouring in, Saber sprinted over and pushed her Exact into one of the back men’s kneecaps. Bang! He collapsed in a scream of agony. Saber pressed the barrel into the other man. He crashed down in tears while the three men by the door snapped around. Shen went to the left side of the kitchen and let the men pass before she slid across the white floor. Her weapon fired point blank into each right leg. All five men were down on the ground, within the same second, screaming in pain. Only one man in her target’s detail remained. He stood by a chrome metallic door, at the end of a back hall, with nothing in his biological hands. His natural eyes stared down the hallway in panic. Saber inched towards him, hoping not to step too loudly. After a few steps brought her close, Saber noticed the part of him that was his Bloodline Prosthetic… his throat. At that moment, she could see his pupils dilate beyond natural limits. A Bloodline Prosthetic throat was old enough to have an Overdrive outlawed everywhere in the galaxy. Saber sprinted and started closing the distance as gills in the man’s throat sucked in copious amounts of air. Shrieking Cords would rip through Saber’s heart and cause it to stop beating. Luckily, as the man went to exhale, Saber slid beneath his legs and shot one round into his groin. His whole body convulsed to his crouch, blasting his sonic voice down into the floor. For two seconds, Saber saw shards of floor launch into the air while the enforcer smacked against the ceiling, then everything went black.

When her eyes opened again, Saber saw her kneecapped guards still writhing on the floor. She wasn’t unconscious for very long, so her target was still behind that metal. Once she crawled up from the floor, Saber checked her wrist display. No damage done to her Ego Technology. A scan of the shattered white floor had her Exact ten feet away on her left side. It didn’t seem ruined, but Saber wouldn’t be surprised if something jammed. With the Exact placed on her belt, she walked to the holographic display of the chrome door. She watched her wrist decode until it discovered the door’s passcode. Three numbers were selected, and a loud puff of air pushed itself out. Saber rushed to right side as the door retracted into the wall. She checked her wrist display one last time, saw she was still invisible, and decided to step into the room. It was a private office that looked down at the luxury platform of Lovelies. The room was made of some red stone that held veins of gold. Her target sat down at a desk while his girl, with Luxurious Skin, sparkled on a nearby chaise. The man wasn’t nervous, scared, or anything, in fact he seemed amused. Saber remembered all the information she had gathered on him. Jabez was a man who controlled a crucial part of the odalisque trade on the system Idyll in the province of DO2. He and his Mechanical Supremacists rarely left the system unless it was for something like the Coensus Plunder. He also was one of the few private owners of a Mechanical Ego. Part of why Jabez was so difficult to kill or arrest was because the Ego shrouded him from every sensor, eye, and Tracer complex. Saber needed that device before Divitiae rose over the Coensus horizon.

She listened to his mind and found out how clever his professional had me him. The man knew if he was supposed to be dead, he would’ve been shot by a rifle as he entered Lovelies. Saber had to speak with him. She hesitantly drew her Exact and then thought the shroud of invisibility away. As the scales of the projectors shuttered Saber back into reality, Jabez grinned.

“Saber, the best of the best is after me, how flattering. Why are you after me is the only question I have?” She didn’t waste any time.

“The Ego, I want it.” Jabez chuckled.

“Afraid of fighting machines?”

“A certain set of machines, yes.” By the risen brow, Saber knew she had revealed too much.

Jabez asked, “Whose set of machines? There aren’t many people with unique… oh, you either have a shit brain or a steel pair.”

Saber replied boldly, “Trust me, it’s the latter, give me the Ego.” Jabez shook his head.

“No, first off, my ass is outside of Idyll, I’m in his territory and I’m not messing with him. Second, his machines don’t work that way. Trust me, the Ego will be useless.”

Saber got closer with her Exact as she asked, “What do you mean?”

Jabez started playing with his ring as he explained, “These machines, their A.S.I. isn’t normal. Detection, security, pursuit algorithms, travel, aggression predictions, facial decoding, body decoding, Visual and Auditory Tracing, the fact I’ve only listed a fifth of what that A.S.I can do, that’s not a normal thing. No, no, you, my dear, have to be shit brained. But that doesn’t matter.” Saber could hear the truth both in his voice and his mind. The Solicitor General was a strange man with powerful tools. Another thought suddenly lurched into the man’s mind. He felt relief as something was on its way to save him. Saber pressed her weapon into his skull.   

“What did you call?” The question forced a single image into his mind. A schematic of a Cendorian Security Machine screeched through his mind in a purple and yellow haze. Those four spheres on the HT-Soaring had so much power. Saber didn’t have any more time; she had to run.

She sprinted out of the office towards the first elevation chamber she saw. Saber threw herself in and sent the chamber to the floor she had planned for her escape. That immense pounding in her chest fueled her calculations of where those four machines were. They could carry a Soaring at up to ninety miles per hour while magnetically tethered. She had to separate herself from their range somehow. The few moments she had in her ascension allowed for a hijacking of the building’s security complex. When she brought up the holographic display of her wrist complex, she saw shadows speeding through the white halls of the tower. Suddenly, her holographic went black. The S.I. of the Cendorian Machines was using the same complex to track Saber. It knew exactly what floor the chamber was speeding to and already calculated her likely escape route. She had to calm her mind those few seconds so she could plan. Saber took a deep breath and remembered something about security or hunting S.I. They favored visual targets before auditory. She could give herself a few seconds before the Cendorian Machines fired on her. Saber had never pushed the range of the Ego projectors passed three feet, but she wouldn’t be comfortable without five. The S.I. wasn’t too smart. If she shrouded herself and made the projectors create a vague outline of her, the machines would shoot it. The chamber lurched to a halt and opened to a set of unoccupied offices. She had a straight line to a wall of glass windows a hundred and eighty feet away. The moment the doors opened wide enough, Saber sprinted straight at them. An image of herself dragging five feet behind appeared in her mind. Hopefully, it would work.

She could hear the metal spheres rolling up the staircase as they closed in. Saber stood a hundred and thirty feet away from the windows when the machines barreled onto her floor. For a moment, it was only four of the same sound, the grinding of metal on stone, but she knew the S.I. decided to create a kill box when the crash of glass filled the hallway. All four machines were speeding to get ahead of the projection, smashing every glass wall on either side of Saber. She had only seventy feet before the window. Her Exact would have to shoot out the glass at the very last moment to keep her illusion going. She could see the chrome sheen of their armor in both of her peripherals. The metal spheres had gotten into position. Their weapons roared at the projection.

Flashes filled the room, reflecting off the chrome armor. Saber kept sprinting for the window. Only forty feet remained, so she drew her Exact and had a bitter realization. Her original plan was to slide down the slope of the glass tower’s massive atrium for the residential spaces below. If she followed through, the security machines would roll after and kill her before she ever reached the street. In the last twenty feet, she sprinted for the right corner of the building. Cutting such a hard diagonal forced her to shoot through the same glass walls her pursuers were crashing through. When the first round flew, it broke the S.I.’s pursuit of the projection. One of the machines spilt open a new section of armor. She heard it fire a few rounds as she shot out the window. Saber leapt, went to her wrist display, and increased the power of her magnet grapple. It latched onto the metal column holding the corner of the glass structure. Once attached, she flung herself around, giving her cover. The S.I. of the Cendorian Security Machines predicted her next move. It knew Saber would get herself to the street. Guards inside the building were on high alert, and the white and neon yellow flash of Coensus Steward pursuit vehicles flooded towards the Lovelies club. All the S.I. had to do was calculate her route and the machines’ intercept course. Saber peeked around the corner, as she descended, and saw the four chromes spheres launch out the windows. They cracked the atrium glass when they landed, but the chrome spheres remained steady and barreled towards the street. Saber took away some of her magnet grapple’s power, so her descent increased. The machines would get to the street first, but they would have to round a whole street corner before getting sight of her. She looked down and felt blessed when she saw a dense river of people walking on the side path. Saber created some random citizen in her mind and finally touched the ground. A few people noticed her sudden appearance, but none cared. They were too busy, too annoyed, and too arrogant to care about anything else other than their own tasks. Saber turned towards where the machines would round the corner. The four chrome spheres appeared on the side path. Their S.I. instructed the machines to search for Saber farther ahead since that was natural prey behavior. She casually walked past the machines as a well-dressed Appraiser and escaped unharmed into the crowds.

An empty, dark glass building sat in a marble field. Saber skirted the surrounding grounds of the structure. It stood tall, perhaps the tallest in the Council Seat, and had a strange coil to it, making it seem like a blend of natural and synthetic architecture. Saber had been staring at it for nearly ten minutes, completely calm. The moment she stepped onto the grounds, the Psychic Dread her mystics mentor taught her many years ago appeared. Something about this tower could only be sensed with her mind, not her brain, not her body, her mind. It left chills on her spine as she followed the structure up to where its tip pointed towards the provinces above. Ships flew in and out of the atmosphere above it, but they all sped away faster than most would, or perhaps that was Saber’s own fearful perception. Many knew the Solicitor General’s reputation, and few had a kind view of him. His Solicitors all lived in properties he owned and drove vehicles that were completely exclusive to his company. Carter-Dixon, Malcolm Baluster, Hierarchy, all of them had a specific design that belonged to him and him alone, a galvanized armored obsidian steel hybrid. Every single vehicle had pitch black windows so no one could see business being done, and it was rumored no one could ever detect any of his assets. Saber confirmed that rumor not too long ago when she examined the building with her Hive Visionaries. There was an electrical current, but it was small, too small for the rumored A.S.I. he had present across the galaxy. Everyone under him had the same intelligence serving them whether they were in the Divitiae province or the Gallance province that sat at the end of the Cendorian Kingdom. Saber wouldn’t know where any security measures were, but she needed this. She took a deep breath and focused her mind on what she desired. A single number appeared in her mind: one hundred and ninety-four. Most likely a floor number. There was only one step left, entering the building.

Saber knew it wouldn’t be likely, but she first wanted to try opening the front glass doors. She grabbed the handle, expecting that strong tug, only to feel the glass panel fly open. That Dread grew in her chest, nearly crushing her heart. Every instinct told her to walk away. She couldn’t listen though; she needed her desire. Defying every voice inside her head, Saber stepped through the door. A paralyzing chill wrapped around her. That feeling of something watching her magnified beyond any bearable level. Those instincts screamed for her to leave, but she only had to focus on that desire. She walked further into the open lobby and felt her heart drop when a dark red line of light appeared off in the corners of the room. They shot around the perimeter of the lobby until an outlined glass elevation chamber appeared at the opposite end of Saber. The glass rotated behind the wall, opening the chamber for entry. So much space between her and that chamber. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave the light of Coensus’ four moons. The moment she stepped forward; Saber would plunge into a deep shadow. Something kept focusing on her, staring, but there was no sign of any Visual or Auditory Tracers. Her desire kept pushing her forward. With a sudden quick pace, Saber plunged into the darkness, feeling that Dread rush towards her from the shadows. It gained and gained until she finally got into the elevation chamber. All the Dread felt like it sat outside the door. Before Saber pushed the display, she wanted to know if she was imagining it. She reached her left hand back into the lobby. Nothing. There was no violent reaction of any kind. It just seemed like a place that didn’t trust her. She brought her hand back in and looked down at the chamber’s display, only to find a panel of marble and obsidian buttons. Her finger stabbed one hundred ninety-four and the chamber started its ascent. It didn’t shift from its straight path, so a normal central column would take her to one of those twisted floors. Saber drew her Exact and felt that Dread again. She was being watched, a focused, cautious watch. After focusing her mind, she felt nothing predatory. The Dread just stayed in her heart as the chamber slowed. Finally, she brought her Exact up to her eye, and the chamber opened.

A flood of pale light came through the twisted windows. She could tell the floor was made of white marble, but black veins ran through it all. Her soul felt uneasy. Saber stepped onto the floor, expecting something to activate. Quiet, a heavy quiet. Step after step added more weight as she pushed into the center. It wasn’t enough to pull her off her desire, though. In the open circle of marble offices, one desk in the center of four small glass walls piqued her interest. Something quickly gave Saber the impression the moment she moved for it; whatever lurked in a different plane would manifest. She needed that desire; it had too much time spent on it for her not to take it. Saber's only decisions were taking another step and waiting to fight whatever it was, or sprint for the desire. She had already braved the lobby; no reason not to brave the thing itself. Saber kept her Exact ready as she stepped forward towards the office. Something shifted in the walls.

When she spun around, two pieces of marble rolled down in the pale light of the four moons. Next to the chamber door came two glowing blood red lights. Before she could react, the machines produced a menacing voice so powerful, deep, and terrifying that when it said that dreadful word, “Saber,” her blood chilled. That voice shouldn’t have known that unless it had access to the Stewards’ database. How far did the Solicitor General’s power reach? She couldn’t see what was carrying those two lights. Their speed could’ve been equal or greater than hers, Saber wouldn’t be sure. Shooting at them was pointless. A single round wouldn’t do anything based on the General’s known power. Saber made a quick decision. She spun back around and sprinted for the desk. Metallic footsteps followed her. She ripped open the glass door of the office and rummaged through the desk. The machines had stepped into the pale light. Saber, in a quick glance, saw they were old. Cogs were moving, pistons acted as tendons for the arms, such primitive technology, yet they moved so naturally. She felt her brain shutter at the sight.

They moved too naturally. They opened the door as she found the cylindric index. All that remained was her escape. She turned and shot out a window. Saber went to leap, but a giant metal shutter clamped down onto the floor before she could move, a standard security measure. Maybe these machines were only auditory and visual. Saber slide underneath one of their legs, noticing that neither of them went to strike. As she did so, she shuttered into a projection of her surrounding environment. When she looked over, the elevation chamber was sealed, and all the metal shutters were clamping down. That Dread nearly split her heart in half. Saber stood in pure darkness as the two red eyes were charging towards her. Suddenly, a white light in a stairwell turned on. Saber sprinted for it, hearing the metal feet just behind her. As the white light flooded over her, Saber ran down the marble-obsidian steps towards the lobby, but she heard another set of footsteps clomping up the stone. All she had for an escape was another floor lit only by the four moons. She sprinted in and took in her surrounds.

The room seemed little more intricate, there were obsidian walls she could blend into. With a pure black projection, Saber pressed herself up against the farthest wall and watched the two glowing red eyes reach the doorway access to the stairs. The primitive cogs held still as the two eyes stared right in her direction. Saber watched them slowly walk towards her.

She just kept saying in her mind, “They can’t see me, they can’t see me, they can’t-”

Her heart nearly stopped when that deep menacing voice countered with, “False, Saber.” She drew her Exact, shuttered her projection, and pointed the weapon straight at the machines.

“Get away from me!” The two machines stopped and stared at her with their single glowing eyes. Behind them, a silhouette of a man appeared from the bright light of the stairwell. A man in three-piece attire walked across the obsidian floor towards Saber. He had on a white jacket, a black vest, and a grey dress shirt that seemed tied together by a thin black ribbon collar. She pointed her weapon straight at the man as he approached. The machines were unfazed. They knew she wouldn’t shoot because she had said to herself that she wouldn’t.

She finally screamed, “HOW CAN YOU HEAR MY THOUGHTS?”

The man held up his hands and replied, “You should know better than anyone that you don’t need the organ to read the mind.”

She protested, “But these aren’t people they’re…” Saber couldn’t finish the statement, they were something else. They weren’t the manifestation of an Advanced Synthetic Intelligence; they were the manifestation of something much greater. These machines walked naturally, but nothing natural gives such a Psychic Dread. Saber only had one option, which was to tell a truth they already knew.

“This index has my father’s last mission on it. I just wanted to know what happened.” The suspicious man with amber eyes nodded.

“That’s understandable, quite a dramatic way to get that information though.” Saber could tell by the man’s confidence and prowess that he was the man everyone feared.

“Your reputation didn’t make it seem like asking was a possibility.” He chuckled.

“Or did you just want to take on the challenge?” Saber swallowed her anxiety from that question. The man knew her perfectly, somehow. She nodded and waited to hear the man say, “You don’t need the index, your suspicions are right. But you can keep it. I just need a copy.” Saber felt a tear run down her face. Her father died nobly, like a hero. The Solicitor General was quick to say after that, “So, since you now owe me, all I ask is that when you see these machines next, you tell the man they serve the thing you and I know best.” His statement, ‘You don’t need the organ to read the mind’ flew into her head.

She asked, “Why?” and received a strange answer.

“Because that man will be on his Path and he’ll need that knowledge for that walk.” The Path, the man was a worshipper of the Light, unless, of course, he knew those Boxers everyone feared, sometimes more than him.

Saber took a deep breath of relief and said, “I will, thank you.” The machine on his left held out its hand so Saber would give back the index. She obliged and watched as the three figures started walking away. Suddenly, Saber grew bold again. She wanted to know the Intelligence these machines had. She took her focusing breath and tried finding that mind. In one quick painful snap, she felt her mind flood with a single thought, sleep.

When she woke next, Saber was on her heavy fighter on a Lightway back to the Cendorian Kingdom. Her green bed sheets covered her, but she still had on her Ego Technology. She wasn’t sure how she got there. Saber got up from her bed, went over to her ship’s controls, and sat down in her pilot’s chair. She spun around, wondering what had happened, when something flickered just beside her. One of her holographic control displays switched from blood red to gold. Jabez was right, that was no A.S.I. and the Solicitor General was certainly a man not to be messed with. For the first time in a long time, Saber closed her eyes and thanked the Light for this blessing of life. Then she remembered her exchange with the Solicitor General. A marble box sat on her ship’s controls. Inside, a cylindric index containing her father’s last moments. Blissful tears and a smile rolled across Saber’s face. She could go home and tell her mother the good news.  

The Coensus Plunder

All the drivers were heading out, it was time. Aloi knew that ball of anxiety had to be buried away. On the system of Coensus orbiting Divitiae province; hesitation was death in every field. Aloi stood up and looked at his helmet. The visor was down, so nothing more than a collar sat in his hand. Still, it carried a heavy weight, one he had carried before. Every qualifying race, every semi-finale, all of them carried it. Aloi needed to win, not by the race’s standards, not even by his own. No, the day’s satisfaction would be decided by one man: Malcolm Baluster XV, the almost most successful Headchair of Malcolm Baluster Vehicles. Aloi would enter a machine named and designed after the man’s late brother to race against Malcolm Baluster’s biggest Appraisal Market competitor. On Coensus, the physical location of the Appraisal Market, this would be key. Every single crucial Appraiser would set the price for investors on units in Baluster Vehicles’ holdings. Somehow, Aloi had to both not get embarrassed by the Imperial Designer’s new pet project and finish ahead of the Carter-Dixon’s HR-3. Aloi had done it all in the qualifiers and semi-finales; there was nothing different today. There may have been a larger trophy, but Baluster XV’s approval was all that mattered. No one would be killed or anything dramatic along those lines. It was just that Aloi had come too far to see the man’s disappointed gaze. The only thing he knew was that small smirk used to hide a sore winner. If he hesitated on the track, it wouldn’t be his death… it would be the death of his pride.

An announcer’s voice boomed over the starting line, “Spectators, the three hundredth Coensus Plunder is nearly underway!” Plunder, such an appropriate word. Aloi put that hefty collar around his neck and went out of the garage into the rays of Divitiae. Beneath the clear blue sky were thousands of live spectators staring at the drivers. Just above Aloi sat the elite gallery. There was no doubt Malcolm Baluster XV sat up there, waiting to see his face. Before that knot could tie around Aloi’s throat, his chief technician appeared beside him.

“We’re good to go. It’s a full tank of hydrogen and we have the most efficient fuel cells with high-capacity exchange membranes. You have the best we’ve got.”

Aloi asked, “Are the rumors true?” The chief technician’s nostrils flared a sigh. Lotte the Crucible, Aloi’s childhood hero, sat in the Carter-Dixon vehicle. He was every driver’s biggest challenge. To be a great, he had to be in your race. He wasn’t in any of Aloi’s qualifiers, or semi finales. He had to appear in his finale. That knot crawled up his throat again. Only when Aloi saw his own vehicle did he feel comfort.

The sleek, powerful, streamlined Galvin Ninety handled perfectly. Aloi knew nothing like it. When he looked at the vehicle, Aloi saw three long, slender chrome teardrops rolling to the back of the vehicle. The two horizontal ones had the wheels of the Galvin hidden from the air of the track. Aloi would get in the third one to take the Plunder. They formed a sharp point at the front while converging into one slick droplet that rolled the salt filled air away. One large set of fuel cells sat right underneath the driver’s seat, powering each of the four motors. Aloi watched as the technicians rolled the Galvin out of the shadows of the elite gallery. Divitiae’s rays glistened across it, bringing nearly every eye to it. There was no doubt; the Galvin Ninety was a beautiful work of art, but Aloi had the responsibility of making it a masterpiece. One of the obstacles against him met his eye.

Lotte’s grey eyes were staring down at a holographic display when he glanced at Aloi for a moment. That told Aloi to expect tough competition. Lotte only raced for his own victory, which meant he had to humiliate his opponents. Drafting, cut-offs, maybe a collision, all of it was in play for the driver. Lotte already made a close second difficult to acquire, with the Imperial Designer’s toy, the goal seemed impossible.

Vitalis Ingeni had an entire empire’s taxes to create that machine, and it showed. A single blood red arrowhead pointed towards the sea of Coensus. Its wheels couldn’t even be seen, most likely hidden in the body of the machine. The A.R.M.S.’ driver, Levis Velo, didn’t have a cabin to enter. Just a pod that connected the two axles of the arrow. The A.R.M.S driver wasn’t someone to underestimate, either. Corners, turns, straightaways, he knew the best strategy for them all. He had studied that machine a thousand times before the race. Any weakness noted, every strength a strategy. Aloi didn’t have such a connection with the Galvin until the fourth qualifier. Yes, these two men, these two machines, were Aloi’s only obstacles to meeting Baluster’s standards.

A lower technician ran over and said, “We got the cabin ready for you!”

The man’s voice conquered the crowd’s enthusiasm enough for Aloi to prepare. He sent a prayer up to the Light before he walked over and climbed into the Galvin Ninety.

A thin sheet of glass came down over the cabin. His Valencian Leather seat hugged his body while he brought up the holographic displays necessary for Plunder. One showed the diagnostics: temperature of the cathode, exchange rate of the proton membrane, electron flow, all of it. The second showed real time aerodynamics of the Galvin. Any shift in the wind, the Galvin’s gills and funnels would correct. His third was the audio display that watched the communication between Aloi and the chief technician. He had learned in the qualifiers that his adrenaline would block out the technician’s voice. Finally, Aloi had the Appraisal Market on full display. He still had time before he needed to prepare the actual vehicle, so he picked the two appraisals he needed. Carter-Dixon Hydrogen Motors and Malcolm Baluster Vehicles. As the race was underway, the market’s projections would give a real-time view of where Lotte was in the race. If he fell behind, Carter-Dixon appraisal would trend down, if he gained, the appraisal would trend up, while Malcolm Baluster would stagger. Also, the appraisals were a check on Aloi’s behavior. The appraisers would spot any lack of confidence with the dozen small metal eyes hovering a foot above the Galvin’s skin. Their shutters adjusted to the clouds passing over Divitiae. Aloi glanced to Velo’s metal eyes doing the same. The Imperial driver may have had a few more eyes though.

His family has Third District blood. Aloi knew people from there were gorgeous. That’s why many had become concubines of some sort. Velo was a free man though. He had marketing contracts with dozens of aesthetic companies. Clothes, fragrances, jewelry, accessories, the man was even used in an older Luxurious Skin advert to show the power the ‘jeweled’ skin had over men. The man’s wavy black hair, dark olive skin, impressive shadow of hair across his jaw, it all made him a desire. Aloi realized he must have been staring at him too long, because the man turned and used his own jade-gold eyes to place that knot right back in Aloi’s throat. Before the rookie driver could even reply to the stare, Velo clicked something on his collar, wrapping his head in a red glass plastic polymer.

The announcer’s voice boomed into his ears, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for PLUNDER!” A roar from the crowd ripped the air apart. Divitiae’s golden rays heated the cabin as Aloi prepared. He glanced down at his holographic displays. A timer ticked. Ten seconds until the Plunder began. Aloi tapped the holographic display and started the fuel cells, only to hear the faint whisper of a purr. A small exchange occurred between the membranes. The countdown reached six. At five, Aloi glanced at Velo again. Only a blood red mask gave a slight nod in response. Aloi wasn’t sure if respect was in it, or just a courtesy, but the knot in his throat was coming undone. When Aloi looked forward, two seconds remained. At the last second, the knot disappeared, and the race began.

Aloi had a perfect start, but as usual, the Imperial Designer’s machine flew away from the pack. The Galvin Ninety, though, had its own distance racers. Only problem was, once Aloi rounded the first left corner, the Carter-Dixon kept close. Lotte and Aloi raced on a road parallel to the Council Seat; a fifteen-mile straightway before reentering the city. In his right peripheral, all the luxury vessels holding scantly clothed men and women cheered with childish excitement. The ocean behind them glittered with diamonds, but all that had to be ignored. The Appraisal display said Carter-Dixon was climbing. Lotte the Crucible would appear anytime. The next turn was a left back into the city. Aloi learned in the qualifiers that the Carter-Dixon team wanted to control the inside, so their vehicles were built for corners. He needed to hold the line as they sped across the ocean. The Carter-Dixon crawled into the right peripheral view. Aloi couldn’t help noticing how close the design was to the Galvin’s. Perhaps the three drops seemed more cohesive, but that was all. It would all be about the two drivers’ skills. Aloi just needed to keep controlling the inside. That was the only reason Lotte drove so close. He wanted Aloi to try pushing him off the center of the road, creating an opening for him to slip in. Since their top speeds were so close, Aloi could hold his ground. Eventually, the rival vehicle disappeared behind the Galvin as Velo rounded the distant corner ahead.

Aloi asked, “Did Lotte top out?”

The chief technician replied, “No, that was just before his fuel cell would’ve started overheating.” A frustrating fact, but Aloi had to keep his composure. Too many eyes were on him, and he still had plenty of time. He stayed focus on the fact he controlled the through line. With that control, Aloi turned back into the massive city of glass. Winding turns and hard curves removed Velo from any equations. Lotte had plenty of opportunities to retake the lead. Aloi couldn’t afford putting his mind anywhere else. The chief technician’s voice came into Aloi’s ear, “Lotte just changed his aero, he’s increasing his ground effect.” Aloi mirrored the move and let the scales at the bottom of the Galvin control the air going beneath. He had tighter control of the corners, but he realized too late it was a trap. That ground effect control took power from the fuel cell, enough that it limited Aloi’s exchange rate before overheating. In order to keep composure, Aloi bit his cheek beneath his helmet. He turned to the Carter-Dixon flying past him. It slipped into the inside just in time for a hard right corner. Lotte held the lead. Aloi had to plan immediately.

“What’s his performance on straightaways?”

The technician stayed silent for a moment, then came back with, “Split stream him as you increase your pressure differential and that should be enough for the wide turn after the next straight.” Aloi held a straight line on the Carter-Dixon. They rounded another corner onto a new straightaway. No ocean this time, only walls of glass towers piercing past the clouds. Still, thousands of people left their usual routine to watch the two men speed down the street. If they were on a floor low enough, they’d watch it all in person. The rest watched the projection on a glass panel. More of the small eyes were following a magnet rail along the track as Aloi started putting his plan into effect. He had to wait for the perfect timing to take the lead, or otherwise there’d be a rough transition into the next corner. Like a perfect slingshot, Aloi pushed his fuel cells to the very edge of his overheating range and slipped out of Lotte’s draft. When he took the front, he immediately started his turn on the inside.

A voice came through, “He’s changed his dynamics. He’s looking to pass you in this turn series!” Another flush of adrenaline came as Aloi moved for his transitions. There were enough slight curves in the winding road that Aloi had to shuffle control for each inside that came. Aloi saw the Flora Gardens coming in fast with their first curve. The Galvin needed to start covering the right inside for the shuffle until they reached the next portion. It would be difficult to check the appraisals at this time, so Aloi only had his instinct. Lotte would wait for that perfect window. Aloi had to be flawless. He couldn’t take a bait from the Carter-Dixon or otherwise the Galvin would struggle on the final lap. Aloi controlled the first shuffle, and the second. At the third, the technician returned, “He’s going for it!” That was impossible. Aloi controlled each inside and his opponent’s fuel cell couldn’t handle an outside pass safely. Immediately after that thought, Aloi pushed his petal down to the floor. Lotte’s Carter-Dixon could handle a hit. The Galvin was questionable on that. Aloi watched the cathode temperature climb towards the red zone as he zig-zagged through the Flora Garden.

He yelled, “Is he overheating?”

The technician returned, “Yep, but he’s pushing it!”

Aloi replied, “Damn!” The technicians at Carter-Dixon believed the Galvin’s fuel cells would lose to theirs. Aloi had no choice. “How many lithium charges do I have?”

The technician quickly replied, “Two safe ones, repeating, two safe ones!” Aloi used his left peripheral as his left hand flicked through the diagnostics display and found the necessary switch. Since there were no rules against it, the Malcolm Baluster technicians added in a small lithium pack with enough power for two guaranteed electrolysis processes. The water created by the fuel cells would be funneled back in to cool them so Aloi could push the Galvin into the red zone. The electrolysis would make it so no fuel was lost in that portion of the race. Aloi almost went to push it, but an opportunity appeared in his mind. He took a massive risk and strained his right peripheral to see the appraisal display. In one quick glance, Aloi saw that after a small rise in appraisal, there was a sudden plateau. Everyone watching just heard Aloi say ‘lithium charges’ and no appraisers wanted to revoke or add more speculation to their appraisals. Most likely, no one had ever heard of the technology and wanted to see what it did, except Lotte. The other racers couldn’t hear each other’s connections. Aloi had a trap here.

“How close is he to overheating?”

The technician replied, “He has been, unless he has something, it’ll go into failure, but you need to get out of there!” Aloi started slowing down slightly so Lotte would keep wanting to push him away.

Aloi asked, “How about now?”

“He is about to reach heat capacity. You need to get out of there in case of a crash!” Aloi ignored him and waited for the moment his blood made the call. Hopefully, that prayer to the Light would come in. One moment after another, he didn’t feel it, but suddenly his blood was diluting more adrenaline. He pushed down the petal and flicked the lithium charge as he pushed the fuel cells to the red zone. Aloi wouldn’t know if his trap worked until he was free of the Flora Gardens. Until then, Aloi would remain flawless in this race portion. He shuffled and shuffled, controlling the inside of every corner, and finally broke out of the Gardens. Aloi had a straightaway in the city streets, so he quickly checked the appraisals. Carter-Dixon l had a sudden crash. Lotte sat somewhere in those Flora Gardens, cussing a storm. Aloi forced him to compete with the common pack of racers.

The chief technician asked hesitantly, “Did the charge work?”

Aloi chuckled out, “Perfectly,” so he could hear the small cheers of his technician crew come through the speaker. As their minor celebration was underway, Aloi noticed something. Malcolm Baluster Vehicles' appraisal was climbing.

He ordered the chief technician, “Check the Market!”

The chief technician came back. “What?”

Aloi repeated, “Check the Appraisal Market!” The chief technician mumbled as he got to his wrist display. A command was yelled to the lower technicians.

“Get the Imperial vehicle’s diagnostics!” More silence went over the speaker. Something big was underway. Aloi kept driving toward another bend when the chief technician yelled out, “Something happened with Velo, he’s in recovery! Get your ass on him now!” Aloi stomped on the petal until he reached the edge of the red zone and barreled around the corner.

There, halfway down the new straightaway, was the red arrowhead of A.R.M.S. Aloi closed the gap as Velo regained his speed. He glanced left and saw the red helmet staring back at him. A finger came up to wag at Aloi like he was a child. In response, Aloi brought up his middle and watched Velo throw his head back in laughter. The two equals raced for the end of the first lap. After dipping down into a tunnel, the two racers appeared back on the surface, rounded a corner, and flew past the finish line of the first lap.

With the second and final lap underway, Aloi spoke to the chief technician, “He seems to be at my speed.”

He told Aloi, “Our theories are one of his fuel cells failed or all his membranes are running at half capacity. All that matters is he’s on your level now. He can’t repair whatever it is, so it’s just you and him.” That knot was tying itself again. Everything fell on him. The standard he knew from Malcolm Baluster XV most certainly vanished. Aloi had to win this race; nothing else mattered. They rounded that first left corner and Aloi was, for the last time, on that fifteen-mile straightaway with Velo. The scantily dressed people on their luxury vessels jumped with excitement again. Velo’s arrow kept control of the inside on the left turn back into Coensus’ Council Seat. Aloi needed to know how damaged the vehicle was, so he attempted the same move Lotte made. He went for a pass on the outside, hoping Velo would push him off. Velo gave the same response Aloi did and kept control of the corner. The Imperial Designer must have liked the corners as well. Aloi didn’t waste any more time and brought himself back behind the arrow for the slipstream. He rounded the second left with Velo, and they went around the various hard corners of the city as the spectators stared in awe. Aloi didn’t need to trick Velo, he was a good racer. The only plan remaining was standard; try to pass on the final stretch. They finished the hard corners and reached the city’s straightaway.

Aloi asked his chief technician, “What’s his aero?”

The man came back, “He’s keeping a lot on a pressure differential, he’s waiting for your pass.” Trying a perfect slingshot was pointless so Aloi kept himself aligned with Velo as they sped through the straightaway and rounded that corner. They entered the Flora Gardens. The two racers kept a perfect dance, shuffling with one another for the ever-changing inside. Both passed where Aloi lost Lotte and shot back into the city onto the straightaway.

Aloi asked promptly, “What’s he looking like?”

The chief technician replied, “Everything’s still the same, you nearly overheat, he nearly overheats.” Aloi only had that straightaway after the tunnel. There, the inside didn’t matter, there was only speed. The final lithium charge would allow Aloi to win that last rush. They rounded the corner where Aloi first saw Velo and rapidly approached the tunnel. Aloi felt his stomach drop as they plunged below. In there wert white lights lining the tunnel wall that strobed the inside of Aloi’s cabin as he stayed behind the arrow. Once the strobing ended and they would be in the provincial rays of Divitiae, there Aloi would move for the win.

The chief technician’s voice threw that away with, “Aloi, something’s going in his diagnostics. We have an exponential shift in numbers. His complex is predicting the fuel cells will return.”

Aloi asked quickly, “Before the race ends?”

The chief technician replied, “Unsure,” and left Aloi alone on the road. More strobes filled his cabin before, finally, the rays kissed his skin. After a hundred feet, they’d be on the straightaway for the ribbon. Quickly, the two vehicles burned that distance away and they could see the single laser running across the track. First to break the connection wins. Aloi turned his wheel slightly and pressed his petal to the floor. As he did this, Aloi saw bursts of speed suddenly inch Velo forward. Aloi couldn’t even use his lithium charge. He flicked the diagnostic quickly to the cooling system and started flooding water over his fuel cells started. The Galvin automatically pulled back its gills towards the front and unleashed giant plumes of steam. Aloi had brought the machine to its breaking point. There were only two hundred feet left before the ribbon.

He could see he was starting to pass. A glimpse of Velo’s red helmet. People cheering, lights flashing, a line of garages roaring. They had crossed the ribbon.

Aloi yelled into his helmet, “Did I win?”

“Uh… I don’t know.” Aloi followed race protocol and spun around on a privately sectored road and shot to his garage. He got out of the cabin as technicians started preparing the Galvin for storage. Aloi ran up to the garage’s personal tower and got behind the chief technician.

“Who won?”

The man simply pointed to a point over the track as he said, “They told us to wait for ten minutes.” Aloi looked and in the first-place category, it said “Levis Aloi.” That wasn’t even a name that could exist. The racer sat stunned before he drudged back to his crate in the garage. He had to wait.

That knot sat tight in his throat. Whatever happened was enough for all the officials to be present in one room. Aloi never heard of anything like it before. He glanced around his garage. Technicians whispered to one another, some even pointing to him as they spoke. He wondered if using the lithium charge had disqualified the Galvin Ninety. That made little sense, though. They sent the rules of the race to the Solicitor General’s office before designing the vehicle. Perhaps Aloi’s middle finger was crass enough for disqualification.

Before he could go any farther, the chief technician returned, “Well… um… you tied.”

Aloi chuckled, “You’re hilarious,” and heard a strange response.

“Most jokes are the funniest when they’re true.”

Aloi started arguing, “That’s not possible, there had to be a millisecond differential or something.”

The technician shook his head, “They checked to the last decimal. You both broke the ribbon at the same time.”

Aloi stood stunned, then asked, “Is that possible?” The technician nodded.

“At some point of time during a pass, the vehicles are in the same spot at the same moment. That’s where you crossed.”

 After processing what was said, and realizing what was said, Aloi started laughing with pure joy. “I won the Coensus Plunder.”

The technician repeated, “You won the Coensus Plunder!” and Aloi felt the crushing strength of the man’s hug. Suddenly, all the other technicians in the garage roared, one making sure to pop a cork of bubbly to celebrate. It was a glorious day for the young racer. He had won it all; the prize, the glory, the fame, the respect of Malcolm Baluster XV.

A man appeared behind the celebrating pack of men. “They need you at the podium.”

Aloi was still laughing as he said, “Of course I’m needed at the podium.” He exclaimed, “I’m needed at the podium!” Making all the other men applaud.

The crowds roared for Aloi when he reached the first-place pedestal. There waiting was Levis Velo. Aloi didn’t know what to do with him. His face didn’t seem bitter like the one on Lotte, but the man had been famous for quiet sometime. There was no doubt he could act for the audience. Aloi would just have to endure the awkward pain as he stood beside him. He stepped up to the podium and, as Levis turned, a bright smiled stretched across his face. The man’s powerful hand quickly snatched Aloi’s and pulled him in.

“You, my friend, are a fast bastard!”

Aloi figured out the man’s personality and replied accordingly, “Kind of the point, isn’t it?”

Levis gave three mighty chuckles and said, “It is, it is, and you certainly achieved that.”

An announcer’s voice came over the podium, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the winners of the three hundredth Coensus Plunder! In third place, Karlos Lach with the Beggar!” The crowd gave a light roar in applause before the announcer went to Lotte. “In second place, the one and only Lotte the Crucible with the Carter-Dixon HR-3!” Aloi looked past Levis and saw a clenched jaw as Lotte waved to the roaring crowd. His ‘Crucible’ title was another loss away from being forgotten, but Aloi couldn’t care less about that. As Divitiae’s beautiful rays kissed his skin and metal eyes floated around the stage, he heard the announcer say, “For the first time, in its history, there is a tie for the Plunder. In first place, ladies and gentlemen, let me present our winners, Levis Velo and Aloi Mec of the Cendorian kingdom. Ladies and gentlemen, let me present our winners, the Deposed and the Malcolm Baluster Galvin Ninety!” A powerful enough roar came from the audience that Aloi could feel it pressing against his ears while confetti fluttered down. Velo’s strong grip grabbed onto Aloi’s shoulder as they smiled for the recording eyes, dilating to absorb the light pouring in. Suddenly, Velo lightly shoved Aloi away as four women strutted onto the stage. In Velo’s fashion, the racer grabbed two of them by their hips and pulled them in. Here Aloi noticed they were wearing scantly made oceanwear, which caused his cheeks to glow bright red when they pressed themselves against him. And, of course, the recording eyes started dilating their shutters even more to capture that bright red. The life of a champion was starting to make Aloi uncomfortable, but luckily the announcer’s voice came over the stage. “Now it’s time to find your champions in the rest of the Coensus Plunder as more inventions, complexes, and vehicles are put on display. May the Light be with you all, and let’s give a thank you to our racers!” Crewmen quickly appeared, ushering the men into the service tunnels that connected the Council Seat as the people roared for the winners.

Aloi realized the two women at his side were part of his prize and wasn’t sure how to say he wasn’t that kind of winner.

Luckily, Velo was Velo and asked. “Are you taking those fine women for dinner?”

Aloi, keeping his relief to himself, replied, “No, I have enough prizes for the day.”

Velo stated, “More for me!” before bellowing out a laugh. Quickly, Velo’s long lean arms were filled with fine women as he said, “Let me tell you the story of how I won the Coensus Plunder,” and left Aloi alone only for a moment. An army of feet came clomping up behind him. That army was something Aloi feared and respected. A small team of business experts were escorting Malcolm Baluster XV. He dressed for the warm weather. A luxurious white dress shirt had its magnetic seam down so his defined chest could be shown off. His short chestnut hair was slicked back while brown skin glowed with his brown eyes that were locked in on Aloi. When his right hand reached over, Aloi learned the man stood tall, nearly a foot taller than him.

Aloi grasped it and felt that powerful shake as the man said, “I have to say thank you, Aloi. You gave the world a good final memory for my brother. It means everything.”

Aloi held back a few tears as he said, “Thank you for the opportunity, sir.” Baluster smiled.

“Good answer,” he said and proceeded with the new duties of a champion. “So you have five hundred thousand Cendorian currency, if you want to make that more come to my office. Technicians will want a debrief either tomorrow morning or afternoon. You’ll have images to take, people to meet, contracts to make. I take thirteen percent of all your deals, so I’ll leave you with my Advert Chief. Thanks again, Aloi.” Just as quickly as he arrived, Malcolm Baluster XV left. Aloi watched his escorts rush down the concrete halls after him. He finally turned back around to Baluster’s Advert Chief, only to find another Baluster. Maria Baluster, Malcolm’s sister, his beautiful sister. She had chestnut hair cut to a medium length, so its long waves just touched her shoulders while her brown eyes stared at Aloi. Her pronounced cheeks blushed as she giggled at his stare. Deep dimples marked the end points of her smile while her full, but modest, lips framed her white teeth perfectly. Maria’s long, gorgeous nose brought everything together and let Aloi know he was absolutely plummeting into love.

They kept awkwardly giggling for a few more seconds before Aloi made his first move.

“So, what’s your advert campaign for the Plunder champion?”

Maria replied coyly, “Your face will definitely sell anything it's next to. We’ll show you off to anyone.”

Aloi let her know his intentions quickly with the simple question of, “How about you start now?” Maria smiled and blushed again. Aloi’s message was well received. She nodded and saw Aloi stand ready for her arm to be linked with his. They strutted together towards the glistening sea that crashed against the blocky marble coast.

After a few steps, she asked, hoping to comfort him, “So, are you going to tell me the story of how you won the Coensus Plunder?”

Aloi smiled, then replied, “I think I’ll be telling the story a lot. Yours will be more interesting.” Again, she blushed. Aloi, a great champion, had unknowingly won the prize of this woman’s smile forever. A good end to the Coensus Plunder.