[GearRyu]

Chapter 5
?All my life I?ve been over the top
I don?t know what I?m doing,
All I know is I don?t wanna stop
All fired up, I?m gonna go till I drop
You?re either in or in the way, don?t make me,
I don?t wanna stop?
~Ozzy Osbourne, ?I Don?t Wanna Stop?

Excelsior Overload
The quiet forest air was doing Cranberry some good. Sure, she had awoke this morning to find that her bed was a little bit too small for her. It had been a tad discomforting to put on one of the shirts and jeans that she bought yesterday and find that they fit right. Right for a normal person of the size they were intended for, many centimeters taller and curvier than Cranberry had been just three days ago. Yesterday, they were baggy. Tomorrow, well? she would pack her raincoat. So, she had showered, brushed her teeth, gotten dressed, leaned over to look into the mirror, grabbed her suitcase (which also contained the hologram beside her other belongings), and walked out of her dorm into the wide world; a place where there were no door frames that you had to duck slightly under for fear of cracking your skull or, more likely, busting, along with the nearest object not fused to the ground.

About an hour had passed since she first left the borders of Megafrankfurt. She left at a running pace. Ahead, she saw the mountains that Lola described yesterday. They looked relaxing enough. She had put on another burst of speed, astounding herself at the rate which she continued to speed up. There seemed to be no limit to it, and she indulged herself, losing track of time as she listened to Pachbell?s Canon thrumming in her ears. When she reached the forest at the base of the mountains, she slowed down to enjoy a walk. She felt more relaxed now, away from the chaotic closeness of the city. She even turned off her music and listened to her environs. Birds chirped and trees rustled in a cool morning breeze. Somewhere on the nearest road, cars were shooting off into the distance. Aside from the strange humming that she heard coming from somewhere far off, she felt comfortable. And the humming was certainly continuing to get closer.

The hum was not animal or natural and was disconcertingly monotonous. It became louder by the second and its discord was increasingly unsettling. The hum broke into a rumble that roared and shook the treetops with its approach. Cranberry?s teeth chattered in her head as she ducked for cover. Whatever was coming wasn?t anything she knew. She wanted to see what it was. Not a car, she figured, peeking over the top of a protruding boulder; they could not fit very well through the trees. Yet, it was too loud to be anything short of something powerful, she concluded as her eyeballs danced in their sockets. Whatever it was, it was still getting closer. She could even see it now, despite the obfuscating shadows; a gleaming silver-red speck surrounded by infinitesimal objects, leaves probably, which resembled nothing more than some form of motorcycle. It glided through the air, low to the ground, and resolved itself quickly to Cranberry from a distance, though at its present rate, even normal eyes would have picked it out soon. The rising sunlight glinted off its crimson paint and smeared the vehicle with a ghostly glaze. And just like that, in the twinkling of an instant, Cranberry felt herself knocked off her feet. Her head snapped upward to see the awesome sight of the craft hovering beside her.

Silver-base paint; red overlay; sleek design, could probably navigate a crowded street; narrow, but a little long; anti-grav (obviously), but with piping suggesting something far more than casual use; thing looked beat and scratched, even scorched, with nothing suggesting regular wear-and-tear; big enough to seat one person, whomever was in the driver?s seat wearing the black jumpsuit and helmet, laughing. The machine was loud, too, too loud, intentionally maybe. Maybe the driver would just pass by. Cranberry just wanted to be alone. Where was a heavy rock when you needed one? Maybe she could lift the boulder?

The driver spoke through a speaker port. ?You?re on my mountain. Race me or get off.? Female. Tense. Serious.

Crap. Cranberry peeked out over the boulder. ?And I want to risk breaking my neck or seeing you crash because??? She looked a little less than optimistic, but she was feeling that funny red feeling in the back of her head again. The boulder-tossing suddenly didn?t feel like such a bad idea.

?You win, spend the night at my place. Nice, you?ll like it. You lose or refuse, I?ll ram you right off the mountain.? Pleasant but dead serious. The craft kept humming. Had to make a decision right now. Possible reward versus threat of bodily harm. Easy choice, sort the details out later.

?Okay?? Cranberry slid out from behind the boulder. ?Only because you insist?? Maybe it was time to see what she was really capable of. Cranberry gripped the suitcase handle, leaving an indent. The wind rushed past them. An engine flared and footpads kicked dirt from the forest duff. They surpassed the gale.

And so they raced.

**

The defining characteristic of the cheetah sphinx is its base land speed. The average untrained cheetah sphinx is more than capable of outstripping anything short of a human Olympic runner, even at short distances. Their incredible speed and considerable endurance enable them to keep pace with, or surpass, some modern cars. When consumed by rage, it is believed that such speeds are increased tremendously, but practically speaking, this has proved untestable since there has never been a known case where a sphinx has been capable of maintaining the benefits of rage and sanity simultaneously.

The modern car is both fairly fast and safe. Some older models produce an unpleasant white noise. It is possible to soup-up a vehicle or remove the noise inhibitor. However, the former is limited to subsonic speeds in commercial vehicles and anything at Mach 1 or above is heavily restricted in private business and government use. Removing noise inhibitors, particularly on souped-up machines, is illegal in many cities, since the resulting noise can be very loud and, when speed passes a certain threshold, unbearably so.

They were defying nature and law when they broke the sound barrier.

**

Cranberry felt exhilarated. She skirted past boulders and kicked off against trees as the wind whipped at her body, tugged at her clothes, rattled against the suitcase. Something tore ? maybe the wind did it. She felt frigid cold to the muscle, penetrated by searing knives of the hottest frost. Treeline-piercing sunlight twinkled and danced to the tune of the forest oblivion; the world was a fire and shadow. The glint of metal to her right periscoped into her field of vision and shrieked with the fading boom of a techno-orchestra and the hissing laughter of the engines. Trees shattered in its wake and the ground trembled beneath its shadow. The race faded into hypnotic darkness in the blind absence of sound and the numbing surgical knives of the atmosphere.

Then?

? the darkness exploded into dust and ruin and the sound of the world slung back and caught up with her.