Kais Zenix @ASZenix:
"What an amazing first race!
9th place, and Layla at 3rd for AlSaqr in the Auckland grand prix!
Better look out @NitroNora, we’re coming for you next!
#AlSaqrRacing #DeltaHyper #FormulaAG"
Kais, with the competition in the mid-pack, a respectable first race putting it into 9th and into the points. How did you find the balance of aggression to make the most of the speed from your Al-Saqr ship?
“Hmm. Speed’s OK. Still breaking the ship in. So don’t worry… You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
(One day earlier)
Kais listened to Ava with a cold expression, but he felt she knew better than to think him calm. With her background surely she recognized the stares of his kind, eyes not knowing where to look, the clenched jaw, the hands floating near non-existent holsters, the pangs of recognition. Images of a world ablaze flickered in his mind. A world, and more. Shockwaves rumbled through the mining tunnels. Sounds of innocence. Smells of meat sloughing from a mech. And throughout it all…
"Rage and anger? I know them well. But you’re wrong about one thing: we’re not the same. I didn’t rage for some grand cause, to save the world, to feel good about my stake in it all. I did because I was fastgrown in a fucking tube, a childhood of killing uploaded straight into my brain, and was let loose in a war zone, where survival was all that existed. Rage kept me alive when nothing else did, in places where others break. To this very day…”He paused for a second.
“You say you understand, and maybe you do, and maybe I am a relic of a bygone age, but if you think for even a second that I’m just gonna wait till they put me down, you are going to be sorely mistaken. Make a better weapon out of me? They better. And stay in the light? You’re goddamn right. And I’ll make sure it’s my light they’re gonna be standing in."And without another word, Kais turned and walked away. It didn’t matter, none of it, not anymore. The race was all that mattered now. Speed, the next turn… Survival.
Sunday March 5th, 2094
Auckland, New Zealand_-_Aotearoa
Race Day
1700 NZST
An AG Racer was different from a warmech in many ways. In a mechsuit, their arm is your arm, their leg is your leg. Their eyes, your eyes. It was more natural even if the tech was considered vintage now. But in a racer? Whole thing’s different. The AG racer’s cockpit was clean. Sterile, but that’s all there was to them on the inside. Where they were colorful and stylish on the outside, on the inside there wasn’t even a real control pad - just some strips and markers for neurographic projection. Even the handles, pedals and joysticks were barely functional. They had some give, but that was mostly for show. It made it easier on the pilots if they had
some haptic feedback that didn’t contradict what they did through their direct brain connection, and it probably helped the pilots not accidentally snap them off in flight too. But if you were so inclined, AGR cockpits could seem little more than many millions worth of metallic coffins.
A crew member was working frantically on plugging Kais into all the systems. Kais glanced over to him, and he saw beads of sweat pearl on his forehead, his eyes flitting here and there, but never to
him. Poor guy was trying to get away ASAP. Last few systems: bracing clamps, medical support, breathing, neural interfaces. And it was done. The man closed the hatch, almost hesitantly tapped on it a few times for good luck, as tradition dictates. And then Kais was alone. Alone in his dark coffin, with only the craft’s soft background hum keeping him company.
Over the radio, he heard the crew countdown with a nonchalance like they had done many times before.
“Alright, Kais. Prepare for plugin, in 3… 2…”. Suddenly, the ship came alive. It always was a slightly jarring experience, having your senses suddenly become 6x larger. His body vibrated
as the ship. The markers and handles now had information projected onto it - speed, gear, lap number, racer position, temperature and energy levels. The rest of his ship became fully transparent, and Kais saw the circuit spread out in in a near-360 panoramic view around him. Falkner, Westwood and Neves, their ships wobbling ever-so-slightly as they too lifted off the ground just ahead, were undoubtedly just plugged in as well. AI-curated data feeds - visual, thermals, distance and pressure measurements - all simultaneously streamed into him in different layers of his mind. The frantic bustle of mechanics made last-minute checks before running off the track. Crowds cheered - Kais turned down the volume on that. And in the distance: the five lights. Just before he placed them on the stick, he looked at his hands - not even a tremble.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
And off they went.
For a split second, the acceleration felt like
then. The boost pushed him in his seat as kilometers raced by in seconds. Even the neurological dampeners couldn’t fully make the rearranging of his internal organs pleasant. Kais reached out with his sensors as the first positions were being traded. In front of Kais lingered Ulrich Falkner, careful and measured. Layla had already gained on Makara and was now maneuvering on Nora Kelly blazing ahead. The Zygon colors of Han’s ship crept close behind them. And Kais saw Makara would be no match. She was immaculately calculated.
Infuriatingly calculated.
“Falkner. Kelly. Han. Go. Take them down.”Kais started hugging those in front close. They had started their own maneuvers. If he could stay with them… Ramping up his own speed, he started his own moves to overtake Falkner in front. But before he knew it Ulrich was out of the race. Crashed, and crashed hard.
“That’s one down!”
“Talk to me, Cypher.” Team principal Omar asked their main neural engineer, as he walked up beside Nadia, pinching her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down from her nerves.
“Layla’s going like a champ. Kais, still the same problem. I can’t put my finger on it. Neural parser’s giving me strange readings now and then. I swear, that guy’s brain... I don’t know. It’s very unclear. Staticy. Sometimes I think I can make out words, but they make no sense. But most of it just sounds like… screaming?”Later in the team cafeteria, Nadia was wondering what she’d gotten herself into this time.
“Passed Neves,” Kais spoke to himself. That was one Zygon down. She put up a good fight, but
a fiery approach only works until someone out-guns you.
And then, there
she was. Ava Villarosa. There may have been two drivers in Wipala, but Kais knew
flying when he saw it. Controlled. Millimeter by millimeter he saw the distance measures creep down. She was gaining on him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his own ship to its limits…
And then, it was all over. The checkered flag was flown. And it all died down to nothing. Cheers may have erupted, but that volume had been turned down. It didn’t matter, none of it.
Post Race, Auckland: Cooldown
Nora Kelly, newcomer and podium finisher. What an accomplishment. Kais noticed a pang of feeling welling up inside him. Pride, or jealousy? And next to her stood Amy Stirling, and Al-Saqr’s very own Layla. Kais mused he’d never hear the end of it… for now.
This was what being a pilot in AG was all about. Drive and, perhaps yes, even respect. Hidden in the crowd their eyes met: Layla, Ava, Ulrich, Hyeon-Ae, Nora. You’d swear you could see the slightest nod and smile on Kais’ face. He raised his index finger.
Bang.
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