Slave Life Online Page 17

  There were three Edge settlements, inside the valley but outside the village itself. The inner zone, the middle of the village was the nicer place to live and nobody pretended it wasn’t. Of the outside Edges, the two on either side of the valley were the ‘better’ sides. Amenities in the East and West Edges were adequate, wholesome and for the most part pretty clean.

  Right at the top of the road Joel pinched his glove control to pull the wheel trucks up and leaned into the turn. He loved the dip and the acceleration as the wheels came up and the board took air. Speed picked up as he started the long glide down. A crow briefly tipped his stretched wings to watch as Joel followed the turns and gathered speed. The cool wind made his jacket flap and slap and his cheeks chilled.

  His footing on the board was like an organic connection. He felt that the board, the road and the air and his body all flowed together as one. His legs felt the trembles and bumps on the road and the currents of warm and cool moving air. He was reading the road and the breeze. His body’s concentration in perfect focus connected him to the wind and the land. He felt free.

  And fast. He didn’t use instruments to track his speed. They sucked too much juice. He knew the distance well enough from previous runs. He checked the time at the start and he’d take it again at the end. He must be a little over sixty miles per hour. Each turn in the road, as he leaned in, he lowered his body. Spread his fingers. Picked up another half a mile an hour. Gaining momentum. Channeling energy.

  The tight curve around the halfway point was coming up. A cluster of bare trees on the valley side of the road was the start of a short rise. After that, the bend was around a steep drop. That drop was where he would pick up the most speed.

  He crouched as he passed the trees. One day he’d try taking this run but straight across. Off the road. He’d need a lot more off-road practice first. But he would get there. The time would come.

  Where the road rose he lost a little speed. More as he swung through the uneven curves.

  As much as he dared he cut along the center of the road, drifting side to side to make his course as straight as he could. The blind drop coming up made it risky. If anything came up the other way, it could be game over. The board leaped as he crested the hump and his stomach followed when he plunged and hurtled down the slope.

  The thrill of almost free fall down and around the widest and fastest sweep of road in Joel’s world made him shout. As he did the sound died in his throat. He stiffened and tipped the board and angled it to slow down. Coming into the valley on the far side were four small, black drones, a larger three-rotor drone and a black USSecur transporter.

  His attention was distracted on the dark convoy in the valley. It made him late to spot the rockfall. It was small but it had left a scattering of debris all across one side of the road. He didn’t react as fast as he should have. A jagged stone was right in his path.

  The rock would only have scarred the finish on his board. He mistimed the swerve to avoid it. The airboard slid off the side of the road. Joel splayed and clawed the air as he tumbled after it. He fell with no view of how long the drop was.

  Thorny shrubs tore at his hand and rubble grazed his thigh. He rolled, bouncing hard. On his ass and the heels of his hands, he skidded down the steep slope. When he stopped, he had no idea where the board was.

  Angry with himself, Joel checked over his arms and legs. He’d scuffed his pants and he’d have a few cuts. Nothing was broken though. But he couldn’t see the board. He tried to raise it by calling it from his tablet. It didn’t respond.

  The range was usually only a few feet, ten at most, so it wasn’t so surprising. If he’d had the instruments on he could have called it up that way. As it was, he’d have to climb down and hunt for it. The rocks were steep. He lost footing and slid twenty feet or so.

  Not too far ahead was a sheer drop. If the board had gone over there, he could be in for a long and dangerous climb. He searched, thinking the metallic paint should stand out pretty well from whatever kind of scrub it had dropped into. He couldn’t see it above him, or either side.

  To peer over the ledge, he had to lie on his stomach and lean out. Below him was a seven or eight foot drop. His airboard was belly up on loose rubble and scrub on a very narrow ledge. Over the ledge was a long drop. If Joel lowered himself down, he would drop to the rubble and likely over the ledge.

  He tried to communicate with the board. It lit up. Getting it to move would be tricky. It was the wrong way up. There was a move where he could make it stand on one end and then jump. If he missed catching it, though, he might not get a second chance. He tried it.

  First it didn’t want to move. Then it just shook from side to side. But he caught the timing right as it wobbled and he got the board to stand, nose down. He could almost reach it from there. Rubble shook from under him as he stretched out.

  He made the board jump as high as he could and reached out for it. He caught the side.

  But the board slipped through his grip. Before it fell he turned it up to full levitation. There was hardly enough juice for it to hover. He stretched his hand out as far as he could. A twitch on the lift control and he got it to rise another inch.

  As he got hold of the board, its reserve power ran flat. He had to carry it and climb. Scrambling back up, onto the road, earned him a couple more gashes. He had to snick the wheel trucks down by hand and push to roll the rest of the way to the East winches.

  A winding snake of vehicles, a couple of boards, and people on foot were making their way up the road on the far side.

  Feeling flat, he rolled onto the lot. He stopped and turned to watch the drones and the black transport buzz into the middle of the village and then fan out. That made the whole operation look like it was a search.

  Malik and Taylor were at the winches already. Big guys, both of them were firehouse volunteers and they were used to heavy construction work. They had taken the covers off two of the big winches. Taylor nodded to Joel.

  Taylor would reach his full term in the next couple of weeks. The village would throw a huge party for him. Drinks, food, and music. Everyone in the village would turn out. People would dance and laugh. They’d all be there to celebrate his life. His friends would say how it all couldn’t have been better. That’s what people always said, but the atmosphere around a full term was never great.

  At least when someone took early salvage it was fast. Whether it was through an upgrade or with an enduring domain program, it was very fast and they chose the timing of it. Hanging on right to the last minute seemed grim. It was tough on everyone around them. He must have been watching the date get nearer for a year at least. Maybe two or more.

  Taylor had really stretched it out, too. Like he wasn’t looking forward to his productive recycling. He’d served three full tours in USMilCorps. Together they got him a full four years extension. That made him thirty-nine, after all. Even in the enclaves nobody got older than that. Not as far as Joel knew.

  The last few hoists, Taylor had been more and more quiet. More withdrawn. Joel thought if he was so reluctant to let go, he ought to take more out of the time he had left. Spend it in things that made him happy. Not looking inward.

  Joel looked at the winches to see which of the kites they were going to haul down. Number one, the nearest was flabby, so it certainly needed inflating. The other was the last in this barrage, number six.

  “I saw you take a tumble off the road there,” Malik called over. “Not like you, Joel. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I was just distracted. Thanks, though Malik.”

  “Glad you could rescue your board. That’s a slick piece. I wouldn’t mind a ride sometime.”

  Joel smiled back. Malik was in his late twenties at least. He’d completed two terms of active service with USMilCom. He had an enhanced arm and shoulder to show for it and one side of his face was reworked in matte CarbN.

  Joel asked him, “You know how to ride air?”

  Malik shrugged. “You could
teach me.”

  “I wouldn’t mind some juice for the board while we’re up here.”

  Malik laughed. “The most valuable juice in town? And while the whole village is here to clean the kites? How could that not go over well?”

  Joel helped Malik to slot the handle into place for the winch.

  Malik’s voice was quiet. “You were watching USSecur sneak into the village?”

  Joel nodded. “Odd they come while most of the village is on their way up here.”

  Malik’s eyes were serious. “They’re going to be waiting. Bound to be looking for someone.” Then he shrugged, “Could be they just happened to pick this time.”

  Joel said, “And the day of the hoist? Doesn’t seem very likely though, does it.”

  Malik’s head shook. “Nope.”

  ~~

  Groups of villagers arrived, Joel knew all of them. Some better than other, naturally. He tied to seem nonchalant as he watched each one, looking for Honey among them. She was late. And she hadn’t responded to his oneline. Joel assumed that meant her mom was bringing her.

  Sometimes her mom let Honey come on her own, sometimes not. If she came on her own, they would usually be able to work on the kites together. They would climb over the huge inflatables, she would smile when he had to help her. She would snigger at him, being too protective of one of the younger kids. Or of her.

  If her mom brought her, it was a lot less likely. What her mom had against Joel, he never knew.

  The short, round bot shook as it trundled, rattling out to the lot. For the hoisting, the bot controlled the drones flying each corner of the kite, keeping it level and facing into the wind. The big inflatable was slowly hoisted and nursed down until the gray underside hung just a few feet above the ground. Parked beside the winches, the bot guided the wing down as Malik and Taylor wound the cables.

  The village had only a few bots. This one was the teachbot in Joel’s class, as well as repurposing for other civic duties. Out of school time, it was a police bot for USSecur.

  Thinking of that reminded Joel of the drones entering the village. Malik was right. They were here for something, probably someone.

  As the stronger men from the village worked to keep the cables neat around the number one winch, Malik and Taylor heaved on the cranked handles. Two men on each of the four steel cables held onto the thick sleeves to guide the cable onto the winch drum.

  Adults helped guide the two thick, hot power lines and coiled them around wide capstans. Propellers were set along powerlines at three foot intervals. Teenagers unclipped the propellers as they came down and they handed them off to children to clean.

  When it was low enough, three of the stronger men pulled out the hooks under the kite and hooked them onto the rails on the ground to tether the fat delta to the ground. The kite was under-inflated, so the hooks weren’t tight, but it wasn’t likely to break free. Hovering, sagging over the long grass, the collectors reminded Joel of a very old picture of a whale, stranded as it wallowed over a reef.

  Joel exchanged nods and waves with the other teenagers as they made their way to the box at the winch housing. Each of them grabbed a belt. The belts carried tools, and had a rope attached with a strong metal clip on the end of the rope. Joel checked the clip on his rope to make sure it was securely attached. The clip was there to hold him to the kite. In case he slipped.

  With the kite down to six feet off the ground, Malik and Taylor climbed metal steps and hung chain ladders off the sides of the kite. Joel followed Ty Bannon up one of the ladders. Two other kids from school went up each of the other ladders. The kite swayed. It was soft under their weight.

  The first climb up onto the back of the kite was something Joel always looked forward to. He looked back and out across the valley, to the ridge on the far side. Past that the view stretched through the haze, over the tilted solar array and the windharvesters outside the valley. He could see all the way to the murky clouds around the silhouette of the dead city. He preferred not to think of it by name.

  Grab handles ran over the kite’s top surface. They were made to hold onto as they scrambled up the stepways between the solar panels. In the ridge along the center were the secure rings to clip their ropes. Everybody strapped their belts on and attached themselves.

  From the center downward, each panel had to be checked for wear or cracks. Then they cleaned each panel. Then they clipped the hand-held meters from their belts to the power terminals, they checked the power output. They’d remove any defective panels and clip them to the belt. If they had panels to replace, Malik would hand them up serviced or new panels to swap.

  The sun was hot and the work was hard and steady, but Joel enjoyed it. He was the fastest in the village, scrambling over the humps of the kites, spotting and removing defective panels, cleaning the rest. He covered more surface than anyone else, so he always wound up with the most panels to refit.

  Honey and her mom didn’t show up until the number six kite was nearly all the way down. They’d brought her little sister, Hannah. A bright eyed, mucky faced kid with an impish smile, Joel thought she was too young to be at the hoisting. Honey’s mom seemed relaxed about it, standing close to Taylor and chatting.

  When Honey clambered up onto the back of the kite, she hung on to a grab with one hand and she waved with the other. Her eyes flashed before her smile. Like a teasing trailer for a game upgrade. Joel’s smile lit as he waved back.

  Then he saw Kier Mald’s sly grin following close behind her. Watching her work alongside Kier Mald made Joel’s morning less pleasant.

  All the time they worked, Ty stayed close to Joel and asked him questions. He asked about the hacks and patches Joel made on sim jackets and gloves. And about the code. Joel didn’t want to tell him too much.

  Ty was not a bad kid, but he wastn’t super bright. He could easily say the wrong thing without meaning to.

  Joel didn’t really want to talk about it at all. Everything he did was unCert. He could get into some serious trouble.

  Ty asked him, “What about if a virtu was so real, if you died in a sim, you died for real?” Joel carried on cleaning the sunlight panel. “Could one of your mods do that?” Ty pressed on.

  “I’m not sure you could say that anything that I do is real modding. Mater of fact,” Joel said, not looking at him, “I think I’m done with tinkering for now.

  Ty was sullen. “You’re a hacker, Joel. I know it. Everybody says you’re one of the best.”

  When Joel wouldn’t talk about his mods, Ty switched to chatting about the drones.

  “You saw them coming in, right?” his voice lowered and his face lit up. “They’re coming for someone, right?”

  “I don’t know, Ty. Probably.”

  “What if it was me?” Ty’s voice lit up and his face beamed. “What if it’s something for USSecur. What if they need someone to do experiments on? Or maybe even something for the Gabriel? Something like that?” there was a faraway look in his eye. “What if it was me?”

  Joel smiled, “Then you’d probably never be seen or heard of again.”

  “Yeah. But I’d be famous.”

  Joel chuckled, “For an afternoon, probably.”

  “No. For a long time. People would say, ‘Where did Ty go? What happened to Ty?’ For months. Maybe forever.”

  “While USSecur cut out all your bits and weighed them for their experiments?”

  Ty’s voice faded and his eyes got a faraway look. “Yeah. Or they’d hand me over to the Gabriel.”

  “Yeah. In pieces.” Joel shook his head. He couldn’t help smiling.

  “It could be an incarnation. The Gabriel could be looking for a new incarnation.” Ty’s voice grew faint and he gazed into the distance.