Microstory 1220: Celestine Evered

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Celestine Evered’s main goal in life was to push her own boundaries, and see how strong she really was. She wasn’t concerned about being superior to others, or getting the glory. She just saw every day as an opportunity to get this close to crashing and burning, but still survive. Needless to say, this landed her in trouble now and then. She never had any interest in committing crimes, per se—because she didn’t like to hurt other people—but she did often break the rules. The rules she broke were only ever the ones that were there for her protection, rather than to protect others from her. For instance, she was suspended from school for two days for hopping the length of the roof on one leg. She didn’t tell anyone she was going to do it, so she wasn’t looking for bragging rights, and in fact, no one was meant to see her at all. The custodian just so happened to be taking out the trash at the time. Otherwise, she probably would have gotten away with it. She had a hard time getting others to understand her motivations. They weren’t, strictly speaking, normal, and she was fully aware of this. But she was also knew that she was not the only one; nor was she alone, not even in her own community. Other kids were impressed by her boldness, and of other stories they had heard about her exploits. They started the Young Thrill-Seekers Club. It was formed by students at her elementary school, but it was not at all sanctioned by the institution. They tried to get official approval, but the administration refused to endorse what they called intentionally dangerous behavior. Still, no one but perhaps their parents could stop them from meeting in public spaces after school, and on weekends. They would do parkour, tightrope walking, races, and more. Celestine tried to get them to host dances, but she was really the only one who liked that sort of thing. The group grew fairly large over the course of that year, quickly including kids from all over the district, and some from even farther away. Their adventures were getting noticed.

One day, one of these newer members challenged Celestine’s older brother to a special race. He had noticed that they lived equidistant from an area of Kansas City called Crown Center, though in completely different directions. He said they should start at the same time, and see who arrived at the designated spot first. The challenge was accepted, and news spread among the group of what they were going to do. Members placed themselves all over the city, and kept their phones at the ready. They didn’t end up filming the whole thing, but they caught fragments of it, and a group member who was into that sort of thing edited all together, and posted it on her web channel. The video went viral, and caught the attention of some of the city’s more prominent citizens. Surprisingly quickly, an idea was born for what would later be called the City Frenzy event. Contestants would be assigned different starting and ending points, criss-crossing each other’s routes in a carefully planned, but still entertainingly chaotic manner. They didn’t know how popular this competition would become, but they hoped to make it an annual thing. They got their wish, of course, and while Celestine was too young to compete in its first couple years, she became a relatively famous competitor for the Frenzy’s many, many fans. She would later begin a tradition with a fellow dancer, where they ignored the finish line, and tried to increase their respective audiences against each other. She actually didn’t care much for the competition, but it was important to her best friend, so she went along with it. She didn’t ever let Gabriella win, though. She still gave it her all every time, and their friendship was far stronger for it. After she aged out of the Frenzy, Celestine kept living her life the only way she knew how. She founded another thrill-seeker’s club, but this time for adults. It was well-funded, highly organized, and grew to be so big that there were eventually chapters in all major cities around the country. They would go kayaking and mountain climbing, and do all sorts of crazy stunts; not for any audience, but for themselves. Celestine kept dancing, but not competitively anymore, and she didn’t do performances. She just went out a lot, and had fun, which she determined was the whole purpose of life.

Frenzy: The Night Before (Part IV)

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I immediately regret not taking time to put on my uniform. It’s made of a special material that partially protects from hard falls and crashes, and also beads water. We both reach the balance beam at the same time. Unlike in the Frenzy, you can’t just find the fastest way through the course. When you’re doing the Gauntlet, you have to do everything, and only one person can be on the beam at a time. Theoretically one could get on behind the other, but it bends and wobbles enough with only one person. Braxton shoves his shoulder against mine and lets me fall into the Pit of Lava. No, there isn’t any actual lava, but it is filled with a slimy goop of some kind that’s colored a reddish orange. It’s like a golf course sand trap; extremely difficult to get back out of. It does dissolve quickly in water, and there is a showerhead nearby for this reason. Normally that would be perfectly fine, because it’s near the end of the course, but since we’re going the wrong way, I have no choice but to run the whole thing wet. Have I told you how much I hate water?

I take off my shirt and shoes, because at this point, that’s the only way to continue. I can hear the cheering again, along with several cat calls. Nudity never bothers me, but I try to be careful about making others uncomfortable. I throw my clothes behind me as I’m getting back in the race. Here’s one thing Braxton probably didn’t know. There’s a sweet spot on the beam where, if you hit it just right, it’ll bend just enough so that it can propel you forwards and land you safely on the other side. This works going the right way, and I take a chance that it does backwards, and am rewarded for it. There is an uproar in enthusiasm as I stick the landing and quickly move on.

The next obstacle is a halfpipe with a very specific route between posts. You can run through it incorrectly, but then an alarm is going to ring out nonstop until you go back and correct yourself. Again, apparently everything is fine going backwards. The trick is staying balanced on a curve without holding onto the posts, unless that is, you like being mildly tased. I’ve finally caught up to Braxton after getting through the halfpipe. He’s having trouble getting up to the catwalk. You’re supposed to climb up a rope, and then jump down a series of platforms, finally ending up back at the bottom by dropping into a pit of foam. He’s still trying to figure out how to shimmy up the wall, which is not part of the course. “Betcha wish you weren’t so muscular now, huh?”

Braxton is strong but heavy, which can be an asset, but something like this requires agility and nimble dance moves. With this I have the advantage. I hop back and forth between two load bearing columns against the wall and make it to the first platform with relative ease. From there I jump to the next platform and pull myself up. The Dark Knight ain’t got nothin’ on me, risen or not. I race down the catwalk and slide down the rope. It burns my hands, but I can’t think about that now. I’ve just realized that I actually have a chance of winning, and I can’t let that go to waste.

Behind me I hear a scream. Braxton finally managed to get up to the first platform, but he’s stuck on the second. He’s just hanging there by his hands, unable to lift his own weight high enough to reach safety. The crowd is shocked but unmoving. The bystander effect is preventing anyone from running out to rescue him. Where are the adults? Each one thinks that someone else will do it. He’s my opponent, which makes him my responsibility. I have to get back over to him, but it would take too long to climb back up to the catwalk, and they built a canyon under it that’s far too wide to jump over. There’s only one way, and it’s insane. This could kill me, seriously. While holding onto the rope, I run in his general direction, but not quite towards him. It’s just long enough to reach the edge of the floor. I start running on the wall itself, following the swing radius of the rope. Is this going to work, or am I going to die? The radius pulls me away from the wall and I have to start hopping across posts, poles, bars, and other obstacles intended for completely different purposes. But I’m able to keep going. There’s always something close enough to hold my growing momentum.

Finally I’ve reached critical mass and have to throw myself forwards through the swing so that it will direct me to the other side of the canyon. My heart races, not only to keep oxygen to my brain, but because remember that part where I could die? The room is completely silent as I continue through my side swing. I don’t make it to the second platform, which was my target. Hell, I would have even taken the lower platform. No, my body smashes into the wall and I fall to the floor. The shock of what I had just done presumably causes Braxton to lose his grip. Now normally he might die from a fall this high, but I’m there to break it for him, and we both somehow survive.

“Are you okay?” he asks as we’re struggling to get to our feet.

“I’m not dead at least,” I answer.

He can’t put any weight on his right leg, and I’m in some pain myself. “Betcha wish I weren’t so muscular now, huh?” He asks rhetorically.

I laugh, but the pain is growing by the moment

Finally the audience runs down to tend to us. Andrews and Rutherford push their way through the horde of racers and take over the situation. “Let’s get them to medical,” Andrews says.

I don’t spend long in the medical bay before my mother comes to pick me up. She spends the whole ride back home scolding me for what I did, saying that Braxton’s problem was the result of his own choices, and that I shouldn’t have risked my life for him. “I mean, you could have run around the canyon to get to him.”

“That would have taken too long. You wouldn’t understand, you haven’t seen the Gauntlet.”

“Oh, I understand. I saw the whole thing on Miss Buchanan’s video feeds.”

“You were watching me?”

“What, you thought your mother wasn’t hip enough to watch that sort of thing? I was one of Agent Nanny Cam’s first subscribers, even before you were a Frenzy runner.”

“I just...I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”

“I know, and God knows nobody else was doing anything. But you know how much we hate when you leap across buildings. You do it for your city, and we can appreciate that sort of dedication. Running the Gauntlet in reverse came out of nothing but pride, from the both of you.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Okay, well we’ll probably talk more about your behavior next week, but for the rest of the day, you need to study and rest.”

“I still need to do a dry run.”

“The Gauntlet will just have to be your dry run.”

“Mom!” I complain. “That’s not the same thing!”

“You should have thought about that before.”

“You were the who wanted me to register for this race. I wasn’t even gonna do it!”

“Oh, don’t put that on me. I know you better than you know yourself, and you wanted it more than anything. You just needed someone to push you so you didn’t have to take responsibility for your own guilty pleasures.”

“That’s not it at all.” No, that was pretty much spot on.

“I’m not having this conversation.” They were back home. “Go to your room, study the map, and go to sleep.”

“What about dinner?”

“No dinner, I’m starving you.”

I stomp down the hallway.

“And no going to the bathroom either!”

I slam the door.

“And stop breathing!”

I forego the studying and go to bed extremely early instead. The only time I’ll be able to get to the city is if I sneak out at night when my family’s asleep. Alim catches me slipping out the back door, but he lets me go because he gets it. I grab my bicycle from the porch because it’s quieter than opening the garage, and I need the warm-up anyway. It’s mighty cold outside, and clouds are once again threatening rain. As late as it is, there’s still a not insignificant amount of traffic. I would normally weave in and out of it as part of practice, but more and more cars are adapting to it in a way that makes things even more dangerous. You can’t teach a driverless car that I know what I’m doing.

I reach downtown and lock my bike up on the corner. I look at it this way, if I had a school test tomorrow, and I hadn’t been studying, then I would need to take some risks in order to compensate. They say that cramming isn’t all that helpful, but when it’s all you have, it’s what you accept. So I take out a special pair of electronic training goggles. One of Andrews’ competitors built the prototypes this year, and wanted the Frenzy kids to test them out, but the council would have none of it. Still, a few of us managed to steal them, so we could try them out.

They were supposed to be for training purposes only, because these kinds of modifications are against the bylaws, but the adults don’t think they should be used at all. The screen is a special kind of augmented reality called controlled reality. Instead of enhancing your vision, it hinders it. This is supposed to teach you to move around the world without seeing where you’re going too well. It’s been programmed to delete potential hazards, replacing them with what the program thinks it looks like behind it. If you don’t use your instincts, and your other senses, you could just run into it. If you think this all sounds dangerous, then you would be entirely correct, and probably now understand why it was banned by the council. There’s bravery, and then there’s stupidity.

In the darkness, it’s even worse. I can make out the outlines of the buildings and other objects around me, but I’m having trouble pinpointing their location. Either it’s designed to flicker like that to keep me guessing, or it just has rendering bugs. I take a deep breath and start my dry run, or rather I start a wet run. As I knew it would, it’s raining. No, it’s pouring, and I just know that this will not end well. I start by springing myself off of a first floor window sill and reaching out for a fire escape ladder. The second to the bottom rung appears to be in my hand, but then the goggles flicker and show me that I’m about a centimeter short. I have to think quickly, so I open my fist again and try to take hold of the bottom rung; also known as my last chance. I make it, barely. But that rain, though. I swing forward once, then backwards, then forwards again. With this, I lose my grip and fall down for the third time today, this time to my back. That’s all I remember.

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Frenzy: Child’s Play (Part III)

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I was never much of a dancer in my youth, but I got more into it when I realized how beneficial it could be for my running form. They said that I should either do that or swimming as supplement, or even both. But absolutely not. I mean, I can swim. I wouldn’t drown if someone threw me in a pool, but I don’t like water. It’s...well, it’s too wet. I deal with it okay, and I even sometimes run in the rain on purpose in order to overcome my weaknesses, but I like it dry. And I like dancing. I know, could I be any more gay? Sometimes on the race, when I’m waiting for a traffic light to change—and yes, there are times when it’s too dangerous to cross, and illegal either way—I’ll dance for the cameras. I like to put on a show to generate viewers and revenue. It’s kind of my job, though it would be nice to get paid for it. The crazier the dance, the better, so I generally do the Wobbly Walk, the Donkey Roll, or The Creep.

At parties, however, I do disco dances, even though I’ve literally never heard a DJ or playlist master put on the right track. Whatever, I’ma do me. After a bit of hustle, I take a break and grab some water at the bar. Keilix has her elbows on the counter, watching Feingold and Tick Tock spar with some kind of martial art. I’ve never been much into fighting either. Unlike swimming, it’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t quite see the value in it for my purposes. Feingold and Tick Tock seem to enjoy it, though. “Come here often?” Keilix asks as a joke.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be weird.”

“I don’t think we’ll notice.” She takes a sip of her chocolate milk. Studies have determined that excessive amounts of milk don’t really help build stronger bones, which would be useful to Frenzy runners. Still, a dairy manufacturing company is one of our largest sponsors, for reasons of the myth, so we get free milk.

“Well, I know we won’t individually see fewer people on the battlegrounds, but the city’ll feel different. Fewer people will be watching, little children probably won’t be allowed to chase after us. All I’m saying is that it’ll be a very different kind of race this year.”

“Brave new world,” she replies melodramatically.

“You know what I mean.”

She affectionately taps her head on my shoulder. “Listen, I’m about to leave so I can study before a nap. I just wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re here. I know I was giving you a hard time about registering late, but it wouldn’t be the same without you. We’re a team.”

“Thanks Keilix. And hey, next year your parents won’t be able to stop you from joining the Tracers, so we can keep running together.”

She exales a breathy laugh. “I’m going to college, Serkan. Probably out of the country.” She turns her hips to face me so I know to pay attention. “I’m not going to be in a gang. I’m gonna get an education, and I’m gonna move on from this.”

“You’re going to stop running?” That would be surprising.

“I’ll run in the mornings before class, and then before work, like any health-conscious individual, but this will be my last race.”

I massage my stubble. “But your feet keep the planet spinning.”

“You’ll just have to run twice as fast.” She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek, and a wink. “Well, more like three times.”

I take one of her hands and plant a chivalrous kiss. “Keep in touch, just the same.”

“I will. One more thing before I leave. Braxton is about to ask you to run The Gauntlet.”

I turn back to watch the crowd and say, “shit” under my breath.

“You haven’t been to HQ lately, otherwise he would have asked you weeks ago, and you’d be safe today.”

I gesture towards Braxton with my hand as I’m talking about him, “he’s gonna beat me. The Gauntlet is the one thing I can’t do.”

“Well, he wants you to prove it.”

Braxton is the kind of guy who isn’t satisfied with being the best. He needs evidence of that, and he needs everyone to know it. He would rather lose then never know for sure. Fortunately for him, there’s almost no way he’s losing. The Gauntlet was installed two years ago, but I’ve always avoided running it in front of others. It’s a fantastically tough maze of obstacles that I just can’t wrap my brain around. Two-foot steps, three consecutive four-foot gaps, a winding rock wall, and a rope to a catwalk are some of the easier obstacles. It was constructed in a completely new gymnasium built as an extension to the original headquarters building. For now, it’s used exclusively for training purposes, but the council has plans to make it a performance venue so that smaller parkour events can be held throughout the year. They’re just trying to work out the legal issues now since no one really knows what that’s gonna do for the economy. It will certainly help, at least in the short run, but the local government is worried it will cause a loss of interest in city landmarks. Tourism was the main reason the race was founded, so if that was ruined, City Frenzy might lose all support.

Seeing me talk about him from across the room, Braxton literally runs over. “Are we doing this or not?”

I take a drink from my water. “Or not.”

“Get the hell in that room, bitch!”

“Your taunts aren’t gonna work on me, Braxton. I’m an adult.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know you need to get your ass in that gym and show me what you’re workin’ with.”

I laugh. “Oh, if that’s what you’re interested in, then I would be happy to oblige. But I would rather do it in a bed.”

“Please, you know what I mean! Bitch!”

“Call me bitch one more time and see if you get what you want.”

“Please, sir, Mister Serkan, sir,” he says more politely.

I pause for dramatic effect. “I don’t want you boasting and flipping around when you inevitably beat me.”

He slaps his hands together out of pure joy. “My man!”

“I’m serious, Braxton. You have to learn to be a gracious winner.”

“Yeah, man, I got you,” he says, but he’s distracted by his own excitement about the whole thing. “Yo, Tick Tock! Start that clock! Serkie and me are ‘bout to drop a rock!” Dropping a rock is a tracer idiom for running a course you’ve never done before. It refers to landing on a boulder you didn’t know was unstable, and it falls out from under you. Of course, we’ve both run the Gauntlet before; we’ve just never run it together. Braxton mainly wanted to show his rapping skills while he was at it, because he’s that kind of guy.

As Braxton moves off to gather a posse, Keilix throws out her empty milk carton. “Like I said, I gotta go. Make sure Agent Nanny Cam films live on her channel so I can watch in the car.” Agent Nanny Cam is a nineteen year old former racer who only ran the Frenzy once. She became so much more interested in the broadcast aspect that she quit so she could operate one of the drones. She moved up the ranks rather quickly and is now in charge of the whole broadcast department, managing all camera equipment, and directing the live presentation.

“Will do, love,” I promise her.

Braxton yells to me from the doorway as he’s filing everybody through. “What did I say about that ass?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

By the time I make my way into the gym, everybody’s already sitting in the bleachers. Even the kids who are now too young for the Frenzy are in there. Agent Nanny Cam is nearby. “What’s going on?” I ask her.

“I knew you were going to agree to Braxton’s challenge,” she explains. “So I told all my subscribers that I would be going live soon. Some people came back to watch in person. Kind of makes me feel bad, really, like I couldn’t give them a good show online.”

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“Come on, dude, you’ll be fine. This is child’s play. I know you’ve never been happy with your results, but you run it better than you think. Your standards for yourself are just too high.”

“How would you know how I run it?”

“There are cameras all over the place. I’ve been able to see every time you’ve tried it.”

“And you never put it on your website?”

“Of course not.” She looked mildly insulted.

Braxton runs up again. “Let’s go, we’re burnin’ daylight!” Not only is he always running, but he’s always yelling too. In the end, he’s a pretty annoying person, and I should try to distance myself from him. I head for the starting point, but he stops me. “We’re starting at the back.”

“Are you crazy?” It might not seem weird to start a race from the other end, but some of the obstacles are designed to go one way. It’s possible to reverse them, but it makes it difficult. Not to mention the fact that the intended direction gives certain muscles in your body a break at certain times. Going backwards will force you to go hard at all times.

“I told you that we were droppin’ a rock. What, you thought I didn’t know what that meant; that I just wanted it to rhyme?”

“I’m not doing this.”

“That’s your choice.” He motions to the crowd as he turns his back. “I would be more worried about disappointing them if I were you.”

Agent Nanny Cam sidles up to me with her master controller. “We’re not live yet, I still have time to cancel the show.”

No, this is important, because a show is exactly what it is. I don’t have to win, I just have to try, and I have to make it interesting. “Let ‘em fly, Cambria.”

Minidrones shoot out of their nest and start flying around the room, each one looking for a good angle. She activates her shoutcaster microphone. “And we’re hot! Welcome to the First Annual Gauntlet Death Match. Our contestants today are Serkan Demir and Braxton Cosworthy...” I stop being able to hear her as I’m walking towards the finish line, and she’s pacing in the opposite direction.

The crowd cheers as Braxton puts his index fingers over his temples and slides his feet on the floor one by one, mimicking an angry bull with horns. Then they wait, because I’m supposed to do something too, so I harken back to earlier in the day, and present them with a few nice curtsies. They cheer even louder for me than for him.

“You win this round, Serkie.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

He ignores me and takes his action camera from Agent Nanny Cam’s cargo drone. I take mine as he’s fitting it around his chest. “I’m ready.”

“Same,” I say.

The buzzer goes off and we’re gone.

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Frenzy: Weather-Related (Part II)

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I tell my car where I want to go and continue to study the map on my tablet. Before I know it, I’m at the City Frenzy headquarters, and I feel like I’ve learned nothing. Oh man, this is going to be tough, what am I gonna do? I step out of the car, still staring at my tablet, furiously swiping and pinching around, trying to get a better feel for the streets. Something hits me and knocks me to the ground.

“Oh my God, that’s ironic,” a voice I’m familiar with says. “Two tracers running into each other.”

“Keilix!” We help each other back up. She must have been studying too, because her own tablet is on the ground next to mine.

“Hello, Serkan. Are you here to support your brother?”

“Uh, no. You didn’t hear? He’s sick, so I’m racing for him.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t look pleased.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You have a better chance of winning against me than you would have against him.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You haven’t seen him.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” Keilix is seventeen years old as well, so this will be her last Frenzy. There’s a lot of pressure on seventeen-year-olds to win, but of course that’s a logistically impractical expectation.

The sun disappears through a sudden appearance of dark gray clouds. Keilix and I look up to the sky. We’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s unnatural for the weather to change so drastically. In fact—I didn’t really study meteorology—but it may be impossible for clouds to form that quickly.

“I guess we better get inside.”

“Yes,” I agree.

When we step into the building, we’re met with looks. Everyone else is already there, and the doors are frustratingly loud. Things are awkward for a moment before Keilix lifts her arms up and pretends to pound on a window. “Elaine!” she cries.

A few people laugh, especially the council members, but most of the youngins don’t get the reference. Somehow, I do, and to add my own personal touch, I curtsy. Now everyone laughs and moves on.

Council Leader Andrews continues the meeting as the two of us are finding our seats in the front row. “As I was saying, the council and I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The meteorology department of my organization has discovered something unusual in recent weather patterns.” Nearly all members of the council have jobs apart from the City Frenzy. Throughout most of the year, that’s what they do. They’re only called to action when necessary, but they have pretty busy careers. Actually, you can’t really get on the council if you’re not already a respected member of society. There’s a firefighter, a superintendent, a few CEOs, and other people in power. Andrews, in particular, runs a scientific research lab, so he has access to data that could potentially affect the race. It would seem that this very thing has happened. He continues, “you have all probably noticed how strangely cold it’s been lately...for July, that is. The situation is a little bit more nuanced and technical than that, but I assure you that my team is working on it.”

“What’s gonna happen with the race?” a kid I don’t know asks.

Council Leader Andrews scans the crowd, but I can’t tell why. It kind of looks like he’s doing a headcount, but not of everybody. He prepares himself for his answer. “The race will go on, but not as planned.”

The same kid calls up again, “what does that mean?”

Andrews is really struggling with responding. He’s always had a level of fear of the kids. It does make sense, though. You can’t register in this race unless you’ve proven yourself physically capable of it. You have to undergo rigorous testing; a physical examination, gymnastics, dancing, parkour, certain track events, and a few other things. Every kid in this room could kick Andrews’ ass several times over, and he knows it. So he’s frozen.

Mr. Rutherford, the resident lawyer, stands up. Unlike the others who were chosen by their clout alone, Councilman Rutherford was selected specifically for his educational background and experience. With a race as dangerous as this, especially one involving minors, you have to protect your own ass legally. “I got this, Duke,” I can hear him whisper to the Council Leader. He takes a deep breath while Andrews is sitting down. “Yes, we are going ahead with the race, but only for contestants sixteen years of age and up.”

The crowd understandably freaks out. The race has been going on for the better part of a decade, and never have they done anything like this before. We’ve had bad weather, and other complications, but the rule has always been twelve to seventeen.

Rutherford tries to maintain control over the room. “Now, I know you’re all upset. I bet even the older kids don’t think it’s fair, but I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about it. The weather has made things entirely too dangerous.”

“Bullshit!” that one kid cries out. He does look like he could be fifteen years old.

“One more word, Thompson,” Rutherford growls, “and you’ll be banned from competing next year.”

“We’re probably gonna move to Mars this winter!” That’s bullshit, nobody’s going to Mars. It’s clear that his friends don’t believe him either, so he has to move on and defend himself. Most of the crowd, however, does not let up.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Rutherford continues. “People have been spitting on lawyers since the dawn of time. Let me have it, that’s what I’m here for.”

As one of the older kids, and because I’m sort of a legend around here, I’ve been placed in a de facto leadership position. Newbies have come up to me to ask for my autograph. I always refuse, instead encouraging to work hard so people start asking them for autographs. That seems to inspire them. Man, I really sound like a pompous douchebag when I talk about myself, don’t I? Keilix would tell me to ignore the haters, and that that’s the price of fame. I consider using that fame to my advantage, hoping to help calm the others with some words of wisdom. As I lean forward, Rutherford catches my eye and subtly shakes his head.

Keilix simultaneously places her hand on my stomach like a mother protecting her child when the car in front of her has stopped too quickly. “This is not your moment,” is all she says.

Andrews looks like he’s gathered his composure, and is ready to get back into the fight. He stands up and gently motions for Rutherford to leave the stage. “It’s okay, I can handle this now. You should talk to the qualifiers.”

“Those sixteen years of age and older, follow me!” Rutherford commands, heading for a door to another room. Without looking back, he yells, “Thompson!”

Too Young Thompson, as he shall from now on be referred to as, sulks and slowly sits back down. Bested once more by Lincoln Rutherford, Esquire. But he will have his revenge.

I’m in a room with sixteen other people, sitting on a little ottoman against the brick wall. Nearly all of us have done this before. Headquarters is like a second home to us. Off-season, we come here to train, and meet up for unrelated events together. This room in particular is a lounge designed for those sixteen years and older anyway, so we all have our special little spots. Keilix lies down across the bar at Braxton’s feet. That guy does parkour even when he’s not doing parkour. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sit down. He’s always been my biggest competition. Jiminy (not his real name) plops down on two bean bags, one of which Alexi kicks out from under him. He has anger problems, and we all just kind of let him vent when he needs to. He’s never hurt anyone.

The Twins sit cross-legged on the interactive mapping screen on the floor, and close their eyes to meditate. The screen is twelve feet diagonal, like a computer that was converted from inches to feet. Everyone uses it to study with the only program loaded onto the system, but The Twins use it the most. They never run, and never win. City Frenzy is a spiritual experience for them, and they take the time to enjoy every moment of it. You would think their race would be boring to watch, but they draw in their own following of loyal virtual tourists that make the organization, and the city, a lot of money. They’re proof that you get out of the program what you want, and you don’t have to do it like everybody else. Oh, and they’re not actually twins, they’re just inseparable.

Rutherford pulls up a chair. “I just wanted take some time to talk with you about what just happened; to gauge how you all feel about our decision.”

“Is it a legal thing?” Braxton asks while balancing on one leg.

“It most certainly is. We’re not doing this as punishment, or with any ill intentions. We just can’t allow children to run under these circumstances. You wouldn’t believe how many legal hurdles we have to jump through just to keep the program running. But every year you kids run comes with new complaints. Every tumble down the stairs—every time someone jumps over an alley...Serkan—is more fuel for our detractors. They’ll take any reason they can find to shut us down. I had to fight just to keep this year from being turned into shit. Allowing the older kids in was the only compromise we could come to. Frankly, I’m surprised we even got that. We only had a day of negotiations.”

Alexi has been pacing around the whole time, steam coming out of his ears. “Did you do everything you could?” he asks in a deep voice that those who didn’t know him would perceive as threatening.

“We did.”

“Thank you,” Alexi replies with the same voice.

“Ever the moderate, Senator Channing proposed we match you sixteen with younger ‘buddy trios’ and make you run together so you could protect them.”

“I shudder to think,” Keilix says.

“I did shudder when he said that,” Rutherford reveals.

“Well...?” I ask. “What now?”

Gabriella and Celestine stand up from the ancient dancing video game platform that’s largely treated as theirs. “Now,” Celestine says dramatically, “we dance.”

As always on the day before...we party.

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