Adams Rush was drifting from its founding values, and the Egress Incident was a surface reflection.
As they continued toward the central party zone the entire floor became transparent. Below were hectares of dimly lit crops. A comm VAD popped up before Jordahk.
Sloan appeared from the shoulders up with people jostling behind her. Her smile was dazzling. “Good, you're here. I didn't want to start the declaration without you.”
“I'll be watching, Lady-Ms Doubravka,” Jordahk joked.
Her eyes made a faint roll. “That's Lady-Ms designate... well, for about five more minutes.” A look came over her. A realization that it was the end of an era. Perhaps his appearance and their past relationship, a rather lengthy one for long adolescence, brought it on. “Don't miss it. I'll talk to you after.”
It got busier closer to the center. It was a fine evening for a party in the sky hall. The transparent crystal ceiling let in the stars and purple nebula streaked night sky of Adams Rush. A particularly large VAD thrust up from the crowd, filling a chunk of air above them. It was looping advertisements for the new Aquarii brand alcoholic beverage, CwanJaan. Below was an Aquarii sponsored bar.
Adams Rush was old-fashioned when it came to many intoxicants, but its founders were wary of empowering government to enforce ethics. They preferred the culture to keep things on track, but it was eroding. One wouldn't see this many long adolescents gathered and intoxicants flowing without restraint just a few decades earlier.
“Ever tried that new stuff?” Jordahk asked.
One side of Solia's mouth raised. “Let's give it a whirl.”
To no surprise, Aquarii contracted the virtual sensation Jaan for their ads. She loomed over them as they approached the bar. The ad featured a long adolescent party with male and female admirers surrounding Jaan. Their dress was a classier, fantasy version of what Jordahk was witnessing first hand. Jaan's “clothes” consisted of black bands and straps, bordered with self illuminated gold strips and jewelry. Her proportions were scientifically designed to entice, and that was before the outfit.
As usual, she was depicted as a vacuum head, not noticing the ogling in her direction. In the ad a jealous woman tries to trip her on the dance floor. As Jaan stumbles she ends up ripping the woman's dress off and tackling an entire snobby crowd, all by accident. With the bad actors out of the way, Jaan shares a CwanJaan with two couples as they engage in a suggestive five-person dance.
“Jaan's brand of advertisement is apparently making inroads in the Asterfraeo,” Max said.
Jordahk shook his head.
“Come on,” Solia said.
Aquarii's high-end intoxicants were expensive, but their moderately priced, casual beverage line was enjoying broad success. It was, of course, made from their protected space-borne cloud of alcohol. They mined and brewed the exclusive beverages in a giant facility near it, protecting the area with a fleet of their own, or so he'd heard.
“How do you want your micros set?” Max link-said.
“I definitely want to keep my feet. Nullify the alcohol and whatever other intoxicants are in this thing,” Jordahk sub-whispered.
“What do you think?” Solia asked.
It tasted a little like maltus, but also like a thirst quencher, and it had a kick of something else Jordahk couldn't identify. The beverage glowed blue when they opened it.
“It's not bad, and goes down easy. Maybe too easy,” Jordahk said, pointing with his eyes to a rowdy group of males.
They bunched around a VAD showing ultra-violent content. Jordahk looked away, suddenly feeling his stomach. He'd experienced too much real violence to be anything but repulsed by fantasy violence, especially for the dubious purpose of stimulating entertainment.
The music and activities died down. Lumies went dark and VAD candles appeared. They encircled the central dais, shining their light upon it. One of the boys watching the violent content rushed to stand near Sloan while her parents prepared to speak the traditional declaration of Investiture.
Sound carried through subtle amplification by discreet, hovering speakers. They brought a chilling memory of the night Solia's father, Isadore, was assassinated. Thankfully, Solia didn't make the connection. After all, she hadn't been in that park to see the carnage.
He felt a familiar elbow in his ribs. “What are you doing, adam?” Solia said. “Come down from orbit. The party's right here.”
She was right, although he didn't exactly know where she meant the party was.
The declaration started. Jordahk watched the crowd as much as he listened to words everyone knew by heart.
“SloanVessna Doubravka, having completed your 36th standard year, I declare your long adolescence completed,” her father said. “With power…”
He was glad at least this was still taken seriously on Adams Rush, even if largely ceremonial, although he couldn't pinpoint why. The declaration came to its expected end.
“Ordinatum profectus.”
The crowd murmured in response. “Ordinatum profectus.”
“Ordinatum profectus,” Sloan said.
She was being launched into success on whatever path she chose.
“What does she want to do?” Jordahk murmured.
A crowd gathered around Sloan as the activities resumed. Solia pointed to an open set up of Walkover.
“Let's try it. I doubt anybody here can beat our combined score.”
They stepped onto the terrain mat and were surrounded by a cylindrical VAD. Walkover was basically a balancing challenge. The game tried to make you lose your balance through environmental trickery and narrow pathways.
The game read them as a couple and started before Jordahk could tell it otherwise. They had to join hands and not let go. A wooded environment appeared around them. It was much more real than his terrain mill experience back on the Monte Crest. The ground raised and rounded beneath them, mimicking the virtual projection of crossing a river on a log.
“How hard can this be without my mother on the other side trying to knock me off with a staff?”
The log began to roll.
“You had to ask?” Solia quipped.
But the rolling didn't stop them, even when it changed rate. Too much hard training was under their belt, certainly Jordahk's, for it to be otherwise. Then they were set on a virtual snowy mountain ledge with the terrain mat obligingly simulating low friction ice. At times the ledge narrowed, needing to be traversed sideways. Gaps appeared that necessitated jumping. It was a little challenging. The cooling in Jordahk's long coat engaged.
He'd decided not to wear formal clothing per se, but did modify his variable outfit, given to him by Aristahl, for the occasion. He changed his cream shirt to white. His treaders were configured to look like a formal boot, and the shape of his coat was altered to resemble something old-fashioned and classy. He changed it to smooth black. For a little color he activated a purple-gray strip down his shirt front, and accented the cuffs and front closure similarly.
He didn't bring his sling bag, but he wasn't going to go without his autobuss. Not after their encounter with the Hektor. Fortunately his long coat was a quality piece whose functions he had yet to fully explore. An inner pocket held the pistol even and flat.
“Hey, watch it,” Solia warned.
Jordahk heard the noise, but lost in thought, was slow on the draw. A boulder rushed down at him. A hit like that would be game over. In an instant Max reconfigured his treaders for grip and Solia pulled back on his hand as the mass tumbled past.
Applause sounded from behind the VADs. Apparently they were attracting an audience. As the scenario changed Jordahk risked a glance back.
“Thanks.”
Solia smiled, lowering her eyes with a demure set.
The snowy mountain dissolved to be replaced by a desert canyon under a blue sky. Underfoot were wood ties, perpendicular to their course, stretching off over a canyon. They connected long metal beams to either side.
“Isn't this some sort of ve
hicle path?” Jordahk asked.
“Train tracks, kid, please. They're not that old,” Max chided.
Jordahk laughed. The humor at Max's expense got a few chuckles from beyond the VADs.
“But seriously, what kind of bridge is that?”
A wooden scaffolding of dubious strength held up the tracks across the rocky chasm.
“It's called a trestle. If it can hold up trains, it shouldn't have a problem with you two.”
As they moved upon it, a wooden tie before them cracked in half and made a long, slow plunge to the canyon floor.
“You were saying?”
An ancient sounding whistle reverberated through them, and vibrations transmitted up through their feet.
“Ah, Jordahk, you better look behind us.” Solia tugged his arm. “I think this is a speed challenge.”
Indeed an ancient train was barreling toward them.
Jordahk sighed. “This is starting to feel like my real life adventures.”
The two of them, still hand-in-hand, changed to side-by-side configuration and started running across the trestle. No doubt they had to get to the other side before the train reached them. But certain ties were weak and Jordahk put a foot clean through one, stumbling forward onto his chest. Onlookers gasped. Apparently couples didn't get this far too often.
“I'm glad it wasn't two weak ties in a row.”
But two in a row soon began, and then three. They had to ascertain the visual cues on the fly—or fall.
Solia made quite the picture leaping in that dress, but her shoes reconfigured accordingly. She'd trained too long with his family to leave herself disadvantaged with one-function footwear. And the dress not only stretched, but stayed where it was supposed to. She balance checked on a triple tie jump, but he pulled her in.
They weren't exhausted, not with their lifetime therapies and constant training, but it was challenging. The vibrations increased. The train was on the trestle. They picked up speed, needing to take chances. They both stumbled on crumbling footing, but momentum carried them to the next stable tie. The train roared close. With a final leap they cleared the canyon. Jordahk pulled Solia off, grasping her to his side as the train thundered by.
The crowd applauded, the high score banner appeared. Words scrolled in front of them.
“Champion Challenge.”
A single set of footprints were highlighted.
“One person has to carry the other,” Max said.
Jordahk caught a glimpse of Solia's open back. A sheen of perspiration highlighted its svelte musculature. If he were an artist, it would be something he'd want to paint. She smiled at him, looking into his eyes strangely. He wasn't sure what to make of it as she poised herself to leap into his arms. She looked more invigorated and alive than he'd seen her in some time. Suddenly a tone sounded and the simulation paused.
“Override,” scrolled all around them.
A figure walked through the desert horizon to stand next to them. “Figure” was the right word as Jordahk followed the form from footwear to head.
“Sloan.”
Last time Jordahk saw her it was hard not to notice how she'd blossomed in the last years of long adolescence. She didn't sport the toned muscle of Glick, nor the dense, compact power of Khai. And she was quite opposite willowy Solia.
A dress, whose base layer was tinted but utterly sheer, covered Sloan from unnecessarily high shoes to collar. Affixed upon it, but spaced so that the sheer material shone between, were flat opalescent pieces arranged in a fractal pattern. Each unique polygon, roughly the size of a fingernail, clung to her every curve. The self illuminated pieces cycled through a dark spectrum. As Sloan moved, even when she breathed, the spaces between them grew, so tight was the dress.
She smiled, putting hand to hip. “That's Lady-Ms Doubravka.” Her eyes did not leave Jordahk's. “Solia, mind if I cut in?”
Sloan didn't wait for an answer but moved forward, gently pulling apart their hands and planting a surprise kiss on Jordahk.
“Whoa, Sloan, people are watching.”
“I know.” She winked. “If you're going to break a record with anyone on my special night, it's going to be with me.”
“It's Kelvin, Jordahk,” Solia said. She was already backing away. “Find me before you break orbit.”
“Wait, Solia—” but she faded into the desert horizon.
A tone sounded again and the scrolling “Override” message changed to “Resuming in” and began counting down from three. It all happened fast and Jordahk had to snap his head back into the game. Especially since Sloan seemed poised to jump into his arms.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Uh, sure.”
She leaped and he caught her easily. His mystic ravelen, performed on him by his grandfather, was a total package few enjoyed. A combination of pros with a few cons. While he'd like to have his appetite back, at times like this it was worth having enhanced strength and bones. A thought crossed his mind that he might be the strongest one at the Investiture. He sure didn't look it.
It was rare when he thought about his gifts in comparison to others. Maybe he got that from his parents. Since they were so much better than him at just about everything, he never got a chance for an inflated head. Regardless, he could pretty much hold Sloan in his arms for the remainder of the night without a problem.
At least without a problem in the “holding her up” department…
The scene changed to a red and orange sunset sky. They were high aloft a construction site in a tall building's old-fashioned armature of girders. The site was dizzying, no doubt enhanced by subtle environmental effects.
Sloan whispered in his ear. “I trust you. Let's win this thing.” Her grip tightened.
Jordahk didn't doubt the design was fear inducing, despite everyone knowing it was only virtual. He took his first step on the narrow girder. Sloan's huge mane of yellow blonde hair cascaded halfway down to his feet.
He walked across the beam to a 90° turn intersection. He continued to a third beam which was lifted by a crane while he was on it. It wobbled unfairly. The crowd gasped at the development.
He never thought of himself as exceptionally balanced, but more must have been internalized over the years than he realized. One of these days he should thank his parents. Maybe at his own Investiture.
A beam on another crane approached. He reminded himself the entire thing was virtual, and steadied his pace to walk onto it. The transfer was as much about timing as it was balance. He made it, but another loomed from above. It was descending at a good pace. It seemed there was no other option but to jump on it as it passed.
“Slag-brained game,” Sloan said. Somehow she moved closer. “Don't let me fall.” Her breath was hot on his ear.
Ease off the distractions, Sloan.
“On my back, quick. I need to see the beam to land.”
Her dress wasn't flexible enough for the maneuver, but Lady-Ms Sloanvessna Doubravka would not be beaten on her Investiture. In a flash of undulations she made look easy, her dress was somehow hiked up to her thighs while he still gripped her. He swung her around with a dramatic flair onto his back. The operation went off surprisingly well and met with applause. But the beam was upon them. It passed his head and then his feet. He jumped. The virtual distance wasn't great, but it seemed a long time before he landed. He did a balance check, but his feet held and the crowd was entertained.
Sloan smiled and risked releasing one hand to wave. “Of course. I knew you could.”
But her new-found confidence, probably in thinking the simulation over, evaporated when the next message came up.
“Final Challenge.”
Jordahk looked around, still on the beam as it lowered. “'Final challenge'? Where?”
The next message scrolled. “Dropping in three…”
Sloan's eyes grew wide. She spoke through the now gritted teeth of her winning smile. “This things's zetta-stupid!”
“Quick, back around front
.”
For a girl who didn't train, Sloan moved well through sheer determination. Bare legs flashed before his eyes and she was cradled before him again. The beam suddenly dropped, as if the crane released its brake.
“This flux-jerk machine!” Sloan yelled.
The plunge made his stomach lift. “I agree.”
The noise of a cable whipping through an old-fashioned pulley system assaulted their ears. The environment blurred as wind lifted their clothes and hair. The beam pendulated below his feet. It took all his enhanced strength to keep them upright.
The game used grav weaves embedded above them to lessen the gravity. His face filled with sudden heat powered by dismay, and the pressure of the situation all at once. He instinctively pushed it up toward the game's armature. The powerful wave he generated didn't touch him or Sloan, but when it hit the hardware above, sparks rained down. She buried her face in his neck. The gravity returned to Adams Rush normal, and the wobbling subsided.
The ground rushed up toward them as the brakes of the crane kicked in. Jordahk's muscles strained at the deceleration. Maybe the simulation wasn't expecting them to get so far, but it finally yielded, touching them down at ground level. The environment evaporated into bits of light, revealing the startled crowd. A message scrolled.
“Congratulations Jordahk Wilkrest and Lady-Ms SloanVessna Doubravka.”
Jordahk chuckled at the personal congratulations while the crowd recovered into applause. Sloan resumed her social mastery without missing a beat, and waved to the crowd. She planted a long kiss on his cheek which got whoops from onlookers. The heat of the former moment was replaced with the heat of a new moment.
She plumped her hair. “That was... exhilarating.”
Chapter Seven
ACETIC SENTINEL
The Premiere News Service Dedicated to Adams Rush
FINANCIAL CRISIS LOOMS;
BANKING CONFEDERATION ASKS ASTERFRAEO WORLDS TO INTERVENE
Monticello, Adams Rush, 287/2615
The four hub-worlds that comprise the Banking Confederation have a problem. One of their number, Aventicia, has stopped offering low cost loans the Perigeum needs to avert a financial crisis. The Perigeum Uni is a currency with limited value outside of their territory, whereas the Banking Confederation UnC is humankind's most respected. While no one has ever tried to strong-arm a Banking Confederation world, some say Aventicia, which lies within the generally accepted boundaries of Perigeum territory, has allowed itself to grow weak.
Tethered Worlds: Star in Bankruptcy Page 8