by Marie Brown
"I'll take care of it, sir," the Enforcer promised.
"You'd better." The Director watched the red dot for a moment, then left.
* * * *
The red Camaro roared down the abandoned road, keeping clear of the trees and racing instead across the gently rolling hills, away from any hidden electronic Eyes. Inside, Ry was laughing with sheer delight.
"You get to do this every week?"
"Yeah." Kief grinned. "Great, isn't it? Only problem is I can never go as far as I want to. Always have to turn back whenever the aircar shows."
"Sorry."
"Not your fault. I know that now." Kief peered down the road, slowing down a bit. "Well, speak of the devil."
"Huh?"
"Oh, just one of my uncle's sayings. Look, up ahead, isn't that an aircar now?"
Ry leaned forward in his seat as the shape grew more distinct. "Yeah, but. . . shit!"
"What?" Kief slowed and flipped the car around, heading back for the farm and safety.
"That's a darter. This thing hasn't got a chance."
"What?" Kief floored the gas pedal, and the car fishtailed before getting a grip on the dirt road and accelerating smoothly. "A darter? What's that?"
"Intercept vehicle, made to catch pirates in the early days of the Order. It can make the trains look slow."
"That would probably explain why it's right there behind us, then," Kief said tensely. He could hardly believe the ease with which the streamlined silver shape had caught up to them. "Shit shit shit."
"How long till we reach the farm?" Ry twisted in his seat, watching their pursuer.
"We weren't out but maybe fifteen minutes. I don't know how they caught us so quick. But it's not far, especially since I'm going twice as fast now as when we headed out."
"Huh. Don't suppose you could go twice faster than that, could you?"
"I wish." Kief swerved to avoid a rock in the road, throwing Ry off balance. At this speed, a rock could prove fatal. "Sorry."
"'sawright, I always wanted to crash into a window in a speeding outlaw vehicle."
"Looks like all your dreams are coming true, today." There was a narrow bridge ahead, the one where he usually peeled off pursuit. The aircars were too wide to cross a single lane bridge, with their air cushions unable to cross the river below, running deep in its bed. But this one refused to go away, the darter narrow enough to cross with ease.
Then he saw something ahead that shouldn't be there. "Hang on!" he yelled, then hit the brakes. The darter screamed past, pulling up in a tight turn to come back around and block his escape to the rear. "I don't believe this."
"What?" Ry let go of the seat back and turned around, face paling when he saw the gleaming metal monster in front of them. "By the free ancestors. They've brought out a heavy."
As if in reply to his comment, a port slid open to reveal the large muzzle of a laser cannon.
"Come out with your hands up," a voice blared over a loudspeaker.
"We're fucked," Kief said.
"Maybe not," Ry countered. "Let me out first."
He climbed slowly out of the vehicle, keeping his hands in view. "What's the meaning of this?" he shouted at the heavy. "Do you know who I am?"
The portal at the top of the pyramidal craft opened. "Yes, Ry," a man replied, emerging from the heavy. "We know exactly who you are."
"Father!" Ry gasped, face going a few shades paler. Kief groaned and hit his head on the steering wheel. The Director. That was the Cityplex Director up there, that Ry had just called his father, the man who answered only to the President of the Order.
Kief climbed out of the car, feeling utterly defeated. He wondered what was going to happen now. He went to the front of the car and stood beside Ry.
"I told you I'd deliver them to you, sir," a new voice called from behind. Kief glanced dully over his shoulder, then did a double take when he recognized Vidder. He looked and sounded completely different from the scraggly little runt Kief had known from the rec facility. Gone were the borderline illegal clothes and the inner-city accent, replaced by an Enforcer's uniform and clean diction.
"Good work, Vidder. Now what have you got to say for yourself, son?"
"How did you find me?"
"Don't you ever check the programming on your wristcomp?" Vidder sneered. Ry ignored him, focusing instead on his father.
"You led us right here, Ry," the Director smiled. It wasn't a particularly nice smile. "You think I didn't know what sort of unsavory company you've been keeping?"
Ry reached out and took Kief's hand.
"I've known about your antisocial activities for years, boy. But it wasn't until you got mixed up with this Red Racer that you had to be stopped."
Ry squeezed Kief's hand rapidly, urgently. Kief wondered at that, then Ry spoke again, releasing his hand. "My wristcomp, you said?" He looked at it, punching buttons and presumably running a check. Then he smiled. "Bet you don't know everything about my illegal activities after all, father."
He pushed a button. The darter behind them gave an ear-piercing squeal reminiscent of the other aircar Ry had killed and dropped to the ground.
Kief dove for the car and had the engine running before Ry had his door closed. He hit the gas, swerved around the grounded darter, and crossed the one lane bridge.
"Hold on!" he yelled, as a laser beam blasted a clump of turf up beside them. He started swerving, hoping that it would ba harder to aim at an erratic target. Laser bolts exploded around them but never quite managed to strike home before he cleared the top of the valley.
"Can we make my uncle's place before that damned heavy?"
"Think so," Ry replied uneasily. "Um, I hate to say it, but. . ."
"I know. I might not have an uncle anymore." Kief clamped his jaw shut and concentrated grimly on driving. A smudge of smoke marred the horizon, uncomfortably close to where his uncle's farm should be.
The farmhouse was in flames when they got there. The Camaro skidded to a halt in the yard, as close as Kief dared get. The two young men stared in horror at the destruction.
"Hey!"
Kief almost missed hearing the call, numbed as he was by the sight in front of him.
"Hey! Open up!"
Ry gasped and nudged at him. Kief broke his eyes away from the burning farmhouse and saw his uncle.
"You're okay! You made it!" He opened the door and started to get out, but Robert shoved him back in.
"Take this," and he pitched a large canvas bag into the back seat. "It's food. And the car. Now get the hell out of here. Spare gas is in the trunk, same's always. I hear there's a free city somewhere out west."
"But what about you?"
"I'm okay. They came, but they couldn't find me. Always knew this would happen. Knew it when they took my family, knew they'd try to get me too. So I made a hideout. Now you take the car and go, or they'll have you sure."
"Uncle—"
"Go, damn you! Now!" Robert shut the door.
Kief rolled down the window. "Thank you, Uncle. You won't come with us?"
"Runnin' from the Order's for young men," he said gruffly. "Now would you get your arse off my property before yon aircar comes back and gets you for fair?"
Kief tried to say something, but the lump in his throat wouldn't let him. Instead, he waved, then sent the Camaro screaming out of the yard.
"Shit." Ry flopped back in his seat, limp with shock. "Guess there's no going back this time."
"Guess not. You okay with that?"
"Yeah. You?"
Kief sighed. "One regret. Wish they'd left Uncle Robert alone."
"Yeah. Where we headed?"
"West, I guess." Kief paused for a moment. "Ever see a free city?"
"You know I haven't. You?"
"Nope."
He found a road headed west and made the turn. "Shit!"
"What?" Kief jumped, looking for signs of pursuit.
"You've got a tracer on you." <
br />
"Easy enough to fix."
The bright late autumn sunlight shone down on the speeding car, catching and highlighting an object as it hurtled from a window. Then the car passed, and the few remaining birds resumed singing in the naked trees.
* * * *
Other titles from Marie Brown:
With Honor
One Night Stand
Behind the Mask
Demon Sun
Visit the author online at
the Evil Kitten Project