The Chase

by Bradley Caffee

“There has never been an incident on this station during my oversight like the one that occurred yesterday. A young, beautiful girl nearly lost her life because someone took it upon themselves to sabotage the protective walls on the track about one hour before the race. It brought shame to our great Alliance, and leadership wants answers. Frankly, I think there’s exactly one.”

  “Kane?” Willis couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Do you know any other convicted murderers on this station, Red Leader?”

  So that was the secret. He’d known that Kane had a checkered past and that the Alliance had pulled him from prison to race. He had heard the rumors but never considered them serious. He crouched down in front of his teammate who had fallen still as Blacc had revealed his past.

  “Is that true, Kane?” Willis whispered, leaning in so Kane alone could hear.

  The giant laying in front of him dropped his head and stared at the floor. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Here before Willis lay the strongest human being he’d ever seen, but his face wore the appearance of defeat.

  Shame. Compassion flooded Willis. He feels shame for what he did. The expression didn’t look like that of a hardened criminal who was bent on repeating his evil. Kane looked like a man who had done something desperate and regretted it every day that followed.

  “So you see, Red Leader,” Blacc continued, “we can’t have a murderer up to his old tricks here. I was certain the Alliance had overlooked something when he was sent here, for they couldn’t possibly want a murderer representing them. I liked it even less when you came out of nowhere to select him for your team. Those who love the Law shouldn’t be made to associate with those who profane it. How would it appear for the Alliance’s greatest hope to be standing next to the scum that threatens to undo our great society?”

  Kane looked up at Willis when Blacc mentioned his selection to Red Team. Willis’s breaths came rapidly. He wanted to unleash a torrent of curses at Blacc. Instead, he could merely gaze at Kane silently.

  “Red Leader, don’t you go getting upset. I’m sure you’ll have your choice of replacements.” Blacc elbowed one of the other officers who snickered. “Maybe you can even bring your bluey friend aboard. I’m sure little missy here would love that. Would you, Red team member?”

  Willis didn’t have to see to feel Jez’s anger as her feet shifted behind him. It was as if Blacc heard the conversation they’d had in the common room.

  “You want to keep running with us, teammate?” Willis furrowed his brow in concern.

  Kane’s tiny nod came once again.

  “Didn’t you hear me, Red Leader?” Blacc’s voice rose. “This boy’s a felon. Once a criminal, always a criminal. Aren’t I right?” With that, he tapped his boot on Kane’s ribs, but the runner kept staring at Willis’s face. His expression was almost hopeful.

  “Chief Administrator, my teammate didn’t sabotage the walls.” Willis kept his eyes locked on Kane.

  “What do you mean?” The question was posed slowly as if Blacc was using the pauses between words to guess what Willis might say next.

  “I mean, you said the walls were deactivated about one hour before the race.” He turned to Blacc and pointed at the air with a finger as though he were seeing their previous conversation.

  “That’s right.”

  Willis shook his head. “There was no way Kane was able to do that.”

  “And why’s that?” Blacc’s eyes narrowed, his fists resting on his hips.

  “He was with me.”

  Willis held his breath after the words. It was a stretch to say they were together. Willis had been in his quarters alone the hour prior to the race, but Kane never left his quarters right before a run. He lived right next door to Willis, so they were in the same place in a way. He believed Kane had been there, and he hoped his face didn’t give away his doubt.

  “Are you saying you can vouch for the whereabouts of this runner, Red Leader?” Blacc stepped forward to meet Willis’s eyes as he stood up.

  “Yes. Yes, I can.”

  Blacc stepped backward appearing rather frustrated. He muttered a couple of curses to himself and then blurted, “All right, let him go.”

  The officers climbed off Kane and removed the cuffs. Kane slowly rose to his feet and rubbed his wrists. He was still watching Willis.

  “Red Leader, I hold you responsible for this runner. If I hear someone sneeze too loud and find out he has something to do with it, it’s you I’m coming after. Do we have an understanding?”

  “Yes, Chief Administrator.”

  With that, Blacc and the officers made their way to the administrators’ offices. Everyone stood silent enough for Willis to hear their steady breathing above the constant drone of the station.

  “That was nuts,” Toad said.

  “That was close.” Jez nodded.

  Willis put a hand up on his runner’s massive shoulder. He didn’t care what Kane had done in the past. He trusted that his teammate wasn’t the man Blacc assumed he was. Kane hadn’t moved his gaze from him the entire time.

  “You okay, Kane?”

  Kane searched Willis’s face.

  “We’ve got to take care of each other if we’re going to get out of here. Don’t we? Besides, you’d do the same for me, I’m sure.” Willis smiled and meant what he said. Kane had been nothing but the most dedicated and hard-working member of his team since he’d arrived on the station. The idea that he’d risk that for a random act of violence seemed ridiculous to Willis. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Kane nodded. Willis believed he could almost see him smile.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Months had passed since the Blue Team’s win. Providing Kane an alibi had unhinged Blacc, who went on a rampage to uncover the truth, screaming all along about protecting the ‘greatest alliance in the world.’ Teams were endlessly frustrated as runners were pulled in the middle of training exercises to be questioned. Even Willis had to leave his team on the track to answer questions. He simply told them that he couldn’t see why any racer would risk running that track without the invisible fields.

  Then, as suddenly as the interviews had started, they stopped. Life returned to normal. At least, it returned to the new normal.

  Willis worked his team extra hard following Dex’s win, and they resumed their winning streak. Blue Team, however, hadn’t resumed their place as the monthly recoded team. That burden had fallen largely to Nico and his greenies, but others had taken their turn. Two months ago, Creed had broken an ankle attempting to short cut an obstacle. He volunteered to be recoded to avoid the lingering effects the injury. Walker had insisted the whole team join him. The week prior, the goldies had lost again. Jaden’s encouragement had the Blue Team running with desperation and threatening every race, and Willis had barely edged him out this run.

  The pressure to win was increasing. He had to win. He had to represent the Alliance in the Chase. It was expected of him. It was what he’d worked for all his life.

  Willis stood frozen in place when the haggard looking woman appeared in the corridor. He’d been the last of his team to clean up and head for the common room. He wouldn’t have even noticed her had he not forgotten his coaching notes. Returning to his quarters, he saw her half hidden in the shadow of one of the curved beams that lined both sides of the corridors.

  “Who are you?” Willis stopped in his tracks.

  Silence. The red glow of the lights in his team barracks cast dark crimson shadows around her eyes. Her skin was dry and aged. Her greying hair was loosely pulled out of her face with several wavy strands hanging, unevenly framing her face. Her eyes, which appeared grey in the light, gazed up at him coldly.

  “You okay?” He reached out a hand to offer help.

  Still no answer. He stepped closer. She wore a dark jumpsuit that was tattered on the edges of the sleeves. A tear was visible above one knee, and both elbows were worn out. He guessed she’d worn the uniform, if that’s what it was, every day for years.

&
nbsp; “Ma’am, you must be new on the station.” His voice shook. She must be a recent arrival as he’d never seen her, but her appearance said otherwise. “Can I help you find your way?”

  She reached up her thin hand slowly and laid it on his chest. It was her gentle touch that finally convinced him that she was real. She straightened the collar of his red jacket as a mother would a son.

  “We live,” she whispered. Her voice sounded like it was rarely used. With that, she turned slowly and walked down the hallway. Willis watched her in stunned silence until she entered the mess hall. He shook his head to clear his focus.

  “Wait a minute.” he called after her. “Who are you?”

  He raced up the hallway and burst into the mess hall. It was empty.

  Willis stood outside Blacc’s office and hesitated as he reached to touch the panel to announce himself. He’d visited this office once. It was the day he’d been made the leader of Red Team. Blacc had congratulated him and grilled him on the importance of representing the Alliance. His final words had been, “Red Leader, the Alliance is counting on you. In a couple of years, it will be your time. You come by here if you need anything.”

  He never took that offer seriously, and his success never required anything different, but for three days, the appearance of the woman in the hallway had bothered him. He’d contemplated who she could be, but with so little to go on, it simply amounted to lost sleep.

  His weariness finally had showed up on the track when he stumbled uncharacteristically on an easy obstacle during practice. Jez had flipped out and insisted that his obsession with Jaden and the Blue Team was the reason.

  “You’re not yourself this week.” She blurted the words, showing both her concern and frustration. “You seem like you’re somewhere else.”

  He’d told the team about the woman. Toad had laughed thinking he was making a joke. Kane, of course, said nothing. Jez had told him to “forget about it” while stepping away from him slowly. It was his confidence that had originally won over Jez, and he’d showed his uncertainty for the first time. Willis understood he couldn’t lose her unquestioned trust and chose not to mention it further. Sweaty and still in his training clothes, he stood at Blacc’s door. The metal door was no different from the many that lined the plain hallway, except for the emblazoned star inside a diamond, the symbol of Blacc’s rank in the Alliance.

  “Enter,” Blacc announced.

  “Chief Administrator, may I speak to you?” Willis entered the spartan office. Other than a desk, at which Blacc sat, the office contained a couple of chairs. Hanging next to him, the lone decoration was a plaque, indicating Blacc’s promotion to Chief Administrator.

  “The pride of our Alliance wants an audience with me?” Blacc smirked. “I’m honored.”

  “Sir, I wanted to ask you a question.”

  “Ask, and I shall impart my wisdom, trainee.”

  “Sir, is there anyone else on this station?”

  Blacc glanced up from his computer. “What do you mean, ‘anyone else’?”

  “What I mean, sir, is—” Willis counted off the types of station residents on his fingers—“besides the trainees, administrators, and doctors—is anyone else aboard this space station?”

  Blacc leaned in his chair, the hinges squeaking slightly. “Of course, there’s that reporter who has been telling the entire Alliance of your exploits. The people are ready for you to deliver this year.”

  “Yes, of course, sir. Besides her?”

  Blacc’s face darkened. “Why do you ask?” He straightened in his chair.

  “I saw someone.”

  “Who?” Blacc was suddenly very serious.

  “I don’t know who she was. She was in the shadows of the hallway—in my barracks—and I saw—” Willis started.

  “It’s nothing,” Blacc interrupted. He stood and pretended to admire the plaque. “You’re seeing things. Must have been your exhaustion after a training run. You guys have been working hard on the track this month. Blue Team have you nervous?”

  The change in subject was obvious. He would get nothing from Blacc. Who could he turn to? Right then, his station schedule card chirped a reminder. Glancing down, his eyes ignited as he read the words ‘Interview with Ms. Kemp’ on the card.

  Willis sat at the table gazing at Sheila Kemp. “I need your help,” Willis started before she could even ask her first question. Sheila didn’t flinch. In fact, he believed he saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she slid her notepad to the side. Good. At least he was getting further than he did with Blacc. “I need your help.”

  “You said that already.” Sheila’s expression reflected genuine interest.

  His eyes darted left and right, not wanting to meet her eyes. “I saw something. I saw someone.”

  “Who?” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk.

  “I don’t know, but my team thinks I’m crazy, and Blacc won’t talk to me.”

  “So why do you think I’m going to help?”

  His eyes locked on hers. “Because this might be the story you’re searching for.”

  Sheila sat as though mesmerized as he retold the story of the encounter with the woman. Though in a private room, Willis kept glancing at the door expecting someone to burst in having heard the whole story. She pressed him for as many details as could be remembered. Willis tried to tell her everything he could recall, from the color of her eyes to the condition of her uniform to where she’d been standing outside his quarters. Her surprise appeared to center more on Willis’s reaction than the presence of the woman.

  “And you’ve never seen her before?” Sheila continued her questioning.

  “No. Never.”

  “Willis. . . how do you think they run this place?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how do you think this huge station operates?”

  “Operates?” Willis furrowed his brow. What is she getting at?

  “Food. Clothes. The track for crying out loud!” Her voice rose as she spoke. “Who do you think does all of that?”

  He stared. He watched her take a long, deep breath as if she was trying to calm herself. He’d hit upon a subject she was obviously passionate about, but the pieces were still coming together in his head. He was unsure what she was saying.

  “Every morning you wake up and open that panel in your room to find a clean, neatly-pressed uniform for the day.” She paused until he nodded. “Later, you’ll find your jumpsuit for the track in there.” She spoke slowly as if to allow him to drink in each word. “Who does that?”

  “That’s automated.” He spoke as if it was obvious, but she pressed her lips together like she meant to correct him, then seemed to relax. “Three times a day you enter the mess hall and find a hot, perfectly balanced meal.”

  He hadn’t considered that. “I’m sure the doctors have something to say about what we eat.”

  “And the track you find completely torn down and rebuilt each month?” she paused getting frustrated. “Who does that? The administrators who stand all day behind a glass barrier observing you?”

  Willis didn’t like where she was going. He wanted to call her crazy and storm out of the room. What she was proposing was—too much. If there were others on this station, why keep them hidden?

  “Willis, do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “You mean this station is full of—”

  “Slaves.” Sheila filled in the word, letting it hang in the air for a long moment.

  “Slaves?” He repeated as if it were a question. “You’re saying there are slaves operating the Western Alliance training station.”

  She folded her arms on the table and leaned in to whisper. “Slaves are the underbelly of the entire World Coalition.”

  “But in the Western Alliance—”

  “Especially in the Western Alliance. It’s far easier to prosper when you have a workforce of slaves.” Willis flinched at her repeated use of the word. “Oh, they don’
t call them that. That would tarnish the image they’ve worked so hard to show to the other alliances. They call them ‘rehabilitation candidates.’ Anyone caught breaking the Law, or even more, showing anything less than complete allegiance to the Alliance, forfeits their freedom.”

  “Forfeits?”

  “The powers at work would tell you they’re given the choice between prison and rehabilitation, but those who are willing to watch with a more objective eye are quick to notice there’s little difference. No one is ever rehabilitated. No one exits the program.”

  Willis sat in stunned silence. He was the son of two of the greatest runners in Alliance history. He was the pride of the entire Western Alliance. Surely, his parents wouldn’t have supported a place like she was describing by handing their son over to it. It was this thought that pushed one question to the front of his mind. One question he wasn’t sure he trusted Sheila to answer.

  “And how have I been in the Alliance system so long without ever knowing this? How could the other runners? You sit here slandering the name of the Alliance that my parents represented.” The words came out in a low growl. Willis shook his head before jabbing a finger at her. “What are you saying? My parents loved the Alliance! Don’t you think they would have known? Don’t you think I would have noticed?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.” She spoke calmly, placing a hand on Willis’s. He stood and gripped the corners of the table. “The other racers are easy to figure out. But you—”

  Willis’s breathing slowed. “What about me?”

  “Any racer who uncovers this fact might question the integrity of the Alliance. They could cause a lot of trouble for the Alliance’s future. I’m guessing what you do and do not know about the Alliance is carefully monitored.” Sheila stopped and scanned the desk in front of her. She looked up at him. “Truth about how the Alliance runs could cause a rebellion among the racers who are taught solely the glory of the Western Alliance. Managing to win the Chase every few years keeps the WA among the elite. It’s one of the advantages of training in space. They control every bit of the environment—including your perception of it.