Space Race (Space Race 1)

by Nathan Hystad

  Luther was the first up, pacing the kitchen. “I’m still trying to understand my role here. Tactical and mapping?”

  Holland jogged back and set his palms on the table as he leaned in. “Haven’t you guys ever watched the Primary Races?”

  “Never had the time. We’ve been working and trying to survive our whole lives,” Jade told him.

  “I’ve seen pieces, but only the Pod races,” Luther said. “Lotus hosted them five years ago over the Great Wall.”

  “I remember that. Travis Brenner won for Oasis,” Holland said, playing with his Tab. He shot the video feed from the device and dimmed the lights. We watched as an Oasis-branded Pod Sprinter shot over the crumbling structure of a long-gone era. It switched from a view from the ground to an overhead shot by race drones, and then to what I imagined was video from the nose of the Pod itself.

  Travis lowered between the wall’s edges, moving for the final checkpoint as someone bumped into his Pod from behind. He started to lose control but impressively retained his positioning while another Pod came at him from a different angle. The circular checkpoint was rushing closer, the burning Ring growing larger with each passing moment.

  And when it looked like Travis might lose to a Sage Industries pilot, he edged him out, entering the finish Ring first. Holland killed the feed and hit the lights. “Pretty epic.”

  I’d heard about Travis Brenner while I’d worked at Oasis, and a few times in the circuit. He was five or so years under me, so we’d never come face to face. By the time he was getting serious with racing, I was retiring. Some of the Oasis employees went as far as to wear his number seventeen on jumpsuits in support of his races, but I’d never really paid it any mind. “I assume he’s on their team?”

  “We won’t hear for a couple of weeks, but he’s one of the best Pod sprinters, so I bet he’s a captain.”

  “And there’s no telling who Sage’s captain will be?” I tested him.

  “That’ll definitely be Varn Wallish. I mean, the guy’s a legend,” Holland said.

  Varn Wallish. God, I hated the man. “Sure, why wouldn’t it be him?”

  “You know him?” Luther asked.

  “We started the circuit around the same time. He was good, but I was better. He never beat me, but we had a few close calls. Eventually, he took all the trophies.”

  “But only when you quit.” Holland was trying to be nice, but the word quit incited a lot of bad memories.

  “Yes, after I retired my Pod.”

  “Did you stay friends?” Holland leaned on the table, clearly interested.

  “No. After he turned eighteen, he got hurt in a practice session. Never kept up on the professional circuit. We actually passed the commercial test during the identical run at Sage Headquarters. He took risks and never lost a load or was late for a shipment, and quickly became one of their top transporters. Eventually, he took the job promised to me.” I remembered the smug expression on his face when we met in the halls after his meeting. He patted me on the back and said something about getting her next time, champ. I was sure he’d used the word “champ.” Then I’d entered the office and was told the high-level position was filled.

  Transporting the CEO, Frank Under, from site to site didn’t seem exciting to me now, but then, it had been my dream. They were always being targeted by other Corporations, lacing each trip with possible danger, but also a chance to make a real impact. Instead, I’d been left behind, and I was sure a man like Varn would never have punched his boss square in the face. Because he wouldn’t have saved those people in the first place, and he would have acted with a clean conscience.

  “Now’s your chance to set the record straight. Hawk Lewis is the best damned pilot in the system,” Holland told me, and while I appreciated his confidence, it clearly wasn’t true.

  “I’m a deep-system hauler with experience and a few tricks up my sleeve and a wall full of dusty trophies. I don’t know if that’s enough,” I admitted.

  “None of us have done anything like this before, including the other teams. Not at this scale. We’ll learn this Racer together,” Jade exclaimed.

  “Already bought in, hey, Serrano? How about you, Luther? Think we have a shot?” I asked the big man.

  “Not even close. But I saw a signing bonus, and a new home at SeaTech, so I’m not going to let us embarrass the kid’s father. I’m all in too.”

  And just like that, Team SeaTech was real.

  Eight

  After two days of test runs, I still didn’t feel ready for what was about to happen. The others didn’t seem to notice my inexperience as I maneuvered number 11, but it was clear as the calm water in the cove to me. The way I felt a half-breath behind on my turns, the difficulty in managing to determine the thrust nuances on the extremely powerful ship. It was a far cry from moving in space without gravity in a hauler like Capricious. This was an art. My instincts were honed to control the tight thrusters of a Pod, not a Racer, but I told myself I’d grow comfortable with the ship. I was a skilled pilot.

  “Maybe we can go into space, where I’ll be doing the majority of our flying,” I suggested during a run on the third morning.

  “Boss says you have to master this first, then we can hit the test in space next week.” Luther was being supportive, and I appreciated it, but I felt like a klutz as I shifted the wings to make a sharp turn over the ocean.

  “Where is the test run?” Jade asked.

  “Beats me. I have a feeling it’s not in plain sight of potential voyeurs,” Luther told her.

  Every Corporation had a piece of land on Earth, some far larger than others. Luna Corp, for example, had the entire Moon, and only a tiny footprint in the South Pole. They each had rights to mining operations, mostly in the Kuiper Belt, and then on an assortment of other planetoids and moons. Eris was now SeaTech’s, where Pluto was divided between Orion, Lotus, and three lower-ranked corporations, who’d sacrificed other technology to make the advancement on property.

  Yet space belonged to no one. Lanes were created between popular destinations, but they weren’t owned, taxed, or tariffed.

  “I have the coordinates,” R11 said.

  He’d been so quiet, I’d forgotten he was in a seat behind me. “Where?”

  “One point two AU from here. The location is remote, vacant from any shipping lanes, and out of any possible orbit track. It will make a good training zone,” R11 told us.

  “How do you know all this?” Holland asked. “Dad said it was confidential.”

  “I am a computer and have access to many things.” The robot sounded amused. “Want to see Holland’s test scores from middle school?”

  “That’s not funny,” Holland said.

  “Actually, it is.” Luther laughed.

  “Wait, you’re joking, right, R11?” Holland looked perturbed.

  “Surely I wouldn’t make a joke.” The robot left me speechless.

  I focused on controlling the Racer, and glanced at the screen adjacent to my seat. Engines were only at seventy-five percent. I hadn’t pushed them to their brink yet; I wanted to ensure I had full control before doing so.

  I lowered her, the front of the Racer stretching out ahead of me as it dipped toward the ocean. It was quite the sight, speeding over the giant body of water, sunlight reflecting off the slowly rolling waves.

  “What’s that?” Jade’s voice carried urgency.

  “Where?” Holland asked.

  “There!” Luther sent a blinking icon to my mapping system. “I see several objects.”

  I swerved for the first one, hoping it wasn’t enemy bogies encroaching into SeaTech’s territory. That would be cause for serious repercussions, and I doubted any of the Primary would be so stupid as to pull a stunt like that weeks before the Race.

  The moment I saw the orange ring above the ocean, I grinned, my pulse slowing. “It’s a track. Bryson’s given us a track,” I told them.

  Then the next checkpoint came into range, a tiny circle in the distance.<
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  “Awesome,” Holland shouted, and I guided the Racer into the first ring. A timer began from the corner of my viewer.

  “I see we have some time trials to contend with.” This was more like it. Something to focus on instead of cautiously meandering around like I had been.

  The Racer leveled out, and Luther called the distance. “0.9 kilometers until next target.”

  With newfound determination, I engaged the thrusters to eighty percent, careening over the waves at the subsequent ring. We crossed the gap in a flash, and he advised the next hurdle. We passed through it right after the clock was at five minutes, and I searched for the ensuing target. “Where is it?” I asked.

  “Think three-dimensional,” Luther said, and I selected the map, finding the ring seven kilometers above us.

  With a tap, I brought the thrusters to full power and shot upwards. Despite the ship’s inertia adjusters, my eyes saw white spots, and I modified the angle to compensate. I looped down, shooting through the ring a minute later, crossing the distance in what felt like seconds.

  Holland let out a cheer, and we continued through the maze. In the end, we’d passed through fifty rings, and the time was forty-seven minutes. I slowed the craft, heading for the island, when the communication came in.

  “Well done, team. I assume you enjoyed that,” Bryson said from his office.

  “We did.” I smiled at the people behind me, finding everyone in high spirits. Even R11 seemed engaged during the challenge.

  “That’s for the best, because you have to shave off twenty-one minutes,” Bryson said. “Go again.”

  I looked at the dash and tried to imagine finishing the trial in almost half the time. “That’s impossible.”

  “Is it? Then I guess you may as well give up now, and I’ll find someone willing to do as I ask.” Bryson’s lighthearted voice had vanished, replaced with his CEO baritone.

  “We can do it, Arlo,” Holland whispered, and I veered for the start line.

  “You know what? You’re right.” I ended the communication, and we began again. At least now we knew what to expect.

  ____________

  “It really is impossible,” Holland said as we headed into town.

  I draped an arm over his shoulders and laughed. We’d done well today, and I wasn’t going to let my team see defeat in my eyes. “We finished in under thirty minutes. That’s commendable.”

  “We still need to better ourselves by four minutes,” Holland reminded us.

  “Whatever. I think we earned a drink,” Jade said, taking my side.

  We’d begun the day as four people, and ended it as a damned crew, and that was enough of a win for me. I reasoned that was half the reason Bryson had pushed us so hard. I bet if I confronted him on it, he’d admit there was no real goal; he was trying to see how many attempts we’d make to best it.

  The biggest island had the majority of active employees living on it, which meant there were restaurants and places to grab a drink after your shifts were done. My grandfather used to say it was like working the coal mines from hundreds of years ago. The laborers would dig all day and receive a trivial compensation, which could only be applied at the commissary. Life had progressed in the human timeline since then, but nothing had really changed.

  The head office was a half kilometer away by the coastline, and we’d already walked by ten huge apartment complexes. They were well-maintained, complete with useable Pods, robots at the doors, and playgrounds with swimming pools.

  The sun had set, but the humid air still caused my short-sleeved shirt to cling to my back as we searched for a decent place to have a drink. Everyone but Holland had removed their SeaTech uniforms, opting for more casual attire on the tropical island. Jade had a floral-patterned dress, the hem hitting just above her knees. She looked carefree as she walked, peering around with interest. Luther had a white Navy t-shirt on, his powerful build filling it out.

  I’d never been one for wearing sandals before, but was growing used to the comfort. A few days at SeaTech, and I was a changed man. My stomach growled, reminding me it had been hours since we’d eaten breakfast, and we took Holland’s lead as we neared their downtown core.

  Everyone knew him, and while most gave him a wide berth, they did so with respect, not fear. He waved at some and greeted a few by their names. He asked after someone’s kid, and the woman beamed that he’d remembered her.

  Pods floated above us, and I appreciated the digital tiki torches lining the pathways. “He’s really kept this authentic, hasn’t he?”

  “Dad loves the vibe. His father tried to update things, but Dad was adamant about keeping the culture alive. He fought tooth and nail to get him to concede.” Holland pointed to a sign ahead, signaling it was our destination.

  “And did your dad win the battle?” Jade asked.

  “Grandpa said he needed to raise the rank up three places in a year in order for them to keep the old ways on the islands,” Holland said.

  “I can imagine how Bryson would react to being challenged,” Luther said.

  “Let me guess. He climbed up five ranks,” I suggested.

  “Eight. It was unheard of, for a year,” Holland admitted. “Still is.”

  “I have to give him credit. He’s determined.” I slowed as the pathway veered to the left. The atmosphere was busy, full of jovial patrons inside. The sign was red and yellow, with a digital cartoon rotating pig on a spit.

  Jade jabbed a thumb toward the bar. “This the place?”

  “Sure is.” Holland hopped up the first step, moving with an air of confidence as we entered. A 3D projection of a huge cartoon hog wearing an apron appeared.

  “Welcome to The Spitting Hog. Where you get slops and hops for the best price on the farm. Link your PersaTab to learn more.” The cartoon vanished as Luther stepped through it.

  It smelled like pork and beer, and it made my salivary glands respond instantly. The space was three-quarters full, and a drone floated over, scanning us before guiding us to an empty table in the rear corner. The walls were open-air, giving a nice evening breeze, and I noticed Holland checking the room, searching for something. Or someone.

  “Girl?” I asked abruptly.

  He looked mortified. “Just a friend…”

  A young woman, probably Holland’s age, appeared through a crowd, holding a tray with empty glasses on it. She spotted Holland, and her smile was as genuine as they come.

  “Came to slum it, I see,” the waitress said after discarding the dirty dishes.

  “I wanted to show my new friends the finest establishment on the island,” Holland told her.

  “Then you’re in the wrong place. But if you want your meat saucy with the best hops in town, then this is it,” she exclaimed.

  Jade scrolled the menu icon on the table, and it appeared, floating in front of us so we could all read it from any direction. We ordered a sampling of appetizers and mains, and a couple of minutes later, our beer arrived. Holland watched the waitress walk away with so much obvious affection, it was dripping off him.

  “You two a thing?” I sipped the beer, the hops stinging my tongue.

  “Nah. She’s… I don’t have time for that,” Holland said.

  Luther drank half the beer in one swallow and set the cup down loudly. “Kid, if you don’t make time for that, then nothing in this universe matters. Take it from me. If I’d have known I’d be forty-seven years old on a team with you guys, I’d have done things a lot differently.”

  “No family?” Jade asked, and I realized we were practically strangers, even though we’d spent the last week in close quarters.

  “Never made the effort. I wanted to, early on; then I put my head down as I was promoted. Eventually, I was in charge of security at Lotus, and that’s when I understood the true realities of our planet. This is no world for having children.” Luther peeked up at Holland and downed the rest of his beer as the first plates came.

  “What do you mean?” Holland asked. “The wo
rld is glorious, and space… well, that’s a marvel in itself. We’ll expand outwards—that’s what Dad’s always wanted—and you’ll see. Generations will carve out the future.”

  Jade scoffed. “Sure. Workers to make the Corporations luxurious homes and offices. Everything that’s done is on our backs.”

  “Are you saying you’ve been mistreated?” Holland asked her, and she brushed her curly hair to the side, displaying the series of black rings in her ear.

  “One for every person killed in a Lunar incident,” she said somberly. “That’s what they called it.”

  Holland looked down. “I’m sorry.”

  “This party took a turn for the worse.” I motioned for the waitress. “Let’s have another round. Maybe some of that orange drink we had the other day.”

  She was off in a flash, with a jump in her step. If I was to judge their compatibility based on enthusiasm, she and Holland would make a decent pair.

  “Surely Luna Corp wasn’t so bad,” Holland mumbled, nursing his beer.

  “My brother was on their expansion project a few years ago. Another manufacturing plant on the Moon.” Jade stared at a distant spot in the bar. “And when the project was rushed, without care for the workers’ safety, he was crushed under a ten-thousand-kilogram girder. Twenty-three people lost their lives that day.”

  “Wait, I heard about that.” At the time, it had been unusual, because the Corporations rarely disclosed anything of that caliber. They preferred to keep their secrets buried under a carpet. I imagined most of their floors were highly uneven at this stage of the game.

  “So did I,” Luther said before biting into a bun stuffed to overflowing with pork.

  “That’s because I leaked it. I knew what I was doing, but no one caught wind of the origin until a few months ago. Some bastard supervisor discovered the log after all this time. Software upgrade I hadn’t accounted for. Long story short, here I am!” Jade’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  “What’s better? Sitting in an office on the Moon, or cruising in our Racer?” I knew which option I’d choose.