Alive

By: Aviantei

1 mph


It's not my first time at the IGPX track—I once went hoping that watching the racing would be enough of an excitement. It wasn't, even though I went at what was supposed to be "the most anticipated race of the season!" After that, I only went a few other times, trying out stuff like pickpocketing. Turns out that sort of stuff isn't fun unless you get noticed, and even then a chase and escape is dull. Besides, petty theft is nothing, and doesn't even bring a good yield.

The risk/return ratio is all wrong.

This time, though, I have a different game plan. I don't know if it will work or be possible, but I figure it's better than nothing. The worse that could happen is that I'd get arrested for trespassing, and I can take a few days in jail. I can pay the bail easy. And if this doesn't work, well, I'm not going to have much else I can care about anyway.

Getting into the stadium is the easy part. I pay my ticket just like anyone else, then promptly forget about trying to find a seat. I didn't come here to watch a race—I came to experience it. It's an hour and a half before the race bothers to start, but there's still a lot of foot traffic. It's enough of a crowd to cover my actions without hindering them. I find the bathroom and tap my foot until I can get a stall.

I wanted to avoid bringing a bag at all costs, but there just wasn't enough time to be able to memorize the map I need. A few contacts of mine were kind enough to give me copies of the stadium's schematics—from maps to how to get through the security systems in the mech hangers. I take a seat, open up the duffel bag, and grab the new tablet I bought this morning. It has enough of a security setting that I can wipe it of any evidence if necessary, but the less evidence that can connect to exactly me, the better.

I pull up the schematics, blocking out the chatter as the women in line make small talk. I at least organized the data enough that I could navigate it easy, and soon I've found my current location. A few clicks later, and the navigation system another contact of mine built up highlights the best entrance to get from the stadium seats to the team hangers on this floor. There are even ticks where vital security checkpoints are.

Committing the route to memory as best as I can, I repack my bag, flush the toilet, then exit, making a stop by the sink before I move on. There's a stairwell that leads up to some of the higher seats, which are meant to give a better view. They're probably packed, 'cause the stairs have people coming down them, looking disappointed. I head up anyway.

"Good luck, Lady," a man says to me, sarcasm biting into his words. "You ain't gonna find a seat up there."

Au contraire. It's a bit of a roundabout way, but this is gonna get me the best seat in the house. I put on my best smile. "I had a friend go up earlier. She's saving me a seat," I lie. The man scowls, then continues down the stairs. I take two steps at a time on the way up to avoid dealing with any more interference.

Once I get into the crowd, I make sure I look casual. The stands look like they're overflowing, and there's more than a few security workers running around, looking ready to pounce. I bet that big events like this spawn plenty of trouble. By the time I make it to the opposite side, there's a shouting argument over seats close to the bottom, loud enough to be heard over the crowd's chatter. The security guard patrolling the side goes to take care of it, and I rush down the stairs, close to the wall.

There's a door there. It doesn't lead directly to security, but it does connect to the main complex. It was installed so that guards didn't have to walk around entire buildings to get to areas where they're needed. There's usually a guard posted in front of it, but they're pulled pretty thin. I look over the crowd, where most people's attention is pulled to someone loudly telling off the guard. I don't bother to wish for any sort of luck and try the knob.

It opens and I manage to make it inside.

Shutting the door manages to make everything quiet. The sound of the crowd disappears, and the utter silence almost makes my ears ring. I'm going to have to be careful to not make enough noise to be heard. At least I get the advantage of being able to hear anyone else getting closer.

This building is designed to hold a lot more than audience members and bathrooms. A walk down a hallway and I find a couch against a wall. Taking a break, I sit down and pull the tablet back out, and relocate myself on the map. Once I figure out the best route to go, I find the fake ID badge and drop its lanyard around my neck. It even has enough override to get me through any security checks, so I need it ready and at hand.

I think I could have bought an arm and a leg for less than what it cost for me to get it made in less than twenty-four hours, but this is an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity kind of deal, so I'm not cutting any corners.

I get moving, not wanting to stay in one place for too long. I only have to check my maps a few more times before I get close to the docking areas. Once I'm there, I wipe the tablet's data and dump it the closest men's bathroom trashcan. None of the bathrooms have cameras in this place, so I've left as little of a trail as possible.

I did a little flash research beforehand, to figure out which team to deal with. I ended up with a lot of unnecessary information about Team Velshtein and Team Satomi. But I did end up knowing that Velshtein has way more established pre-race routines. Right about now, the pilots are talking with their manager and the mechanics have already done preliminary checks. Their hanger is pretty much deserted for the next twenty minutes.

Plenty of time.

I get to the entrance and swipe my security card. The door opens, and I slip inside. Ideally, I would have hired someone else to hack the security cameras into a loop, but by the time I got my other supplies, I just couldn't handle it. I settled for a cheap baseball cap pulled to hide most of my face and my hair tucked underneath. The fact that only half of my head is buzzed down, with the rest in a giant ponytail tends to be a distinguishable trait and makes it even more necessary.

It doesn't take much to find the racing mechs. They're giant. The track is at a distance when you're in the stands, and the TV scales in camera angles that make you forget the size. I stand next to one, my head only staring at the lower leg. Looking up is even more disorienting. I have to resist the urge to touch it so I don't leave any fingerprints.

It's unreal.

I step back to look the whole area over. I'm sure there's some mechanism that the pilots use to get loaded into their mechs, but it's probably hard to activate without alerting anyone. The only helpful thing right now is that mech in the center has its hatch open, plus there's a platform that oversees the area. I can't tell the exact distance between them, but it's the best shot I've got.

I find a set of stairs on the side of the room, and I run up them. Now that I'm closer, there's probably about ten feet at most between the platform and the mech. I have an advantage in height, too. I stretch out my legs as quick as I can, take a deep breath, and break out into a run.

It's not my first time pulling a stunt like this, but it's been a while. I experienced most of the dangers and damages aside from death, so I won't complain if I miss. Of course, I'd prefer that I don't get hurt, since that's asking for me to get caught, but what happens is gonna happen. Once I get close enough, I grab onto the railing and fling myself overboard.

While the fact that the cockpit's open is a stroke of luck, I'm not so lucky to have it facing open in my direction. My face almost smacks into the open door, but I manage to grip onto the edges and contours, laughing through shaky breaths. I'm able to keep holding on since I tossed on a pair of fingerless sports gloves before I left, but they can only give me so much traction, and I start to slip right away. I switch my grip and try to swing around the side of the door, my foot hitting against the mech's shoulder before I land in the seat of the cockpit backwards.

The mech is big and steady enough that it doesn't even shake, but I do. I've been stuck for the longest time, without anything to help. And while a little stunt like that isn't enough to pick me up all the way, it's better than nothing. My laughing only gets louder the more I get my breath back, and I have to remind myself that making noise isn't really a good thing at the moment.

Still shaking a bit, I stand up. Adrenaline leads a smile onto my face. Once I'm facing the right way, I can see the entire hanger. I take a deep breath, letting it sink in. It's nothing like going rock climbing, but the sense of height is still enough to feel powerful. Giving my legs a break, I drop down into the pilot seat.

I'm not stupid enough to think that I can pilot a mech with no experience. I don't know how to start it up, either. Still, I put my hands on the controls and close my eyes. Just thinking of what it would be like to go that fast lets me feel excited. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, being an IGPX pilot, no matter what league I'd be in. It might take me some time, but it's really the only lead I have. The real pain would be finding teammates, but I guess I don't have to get along with them. They would just need to fill seats and be good enough to stay in the competition.

I exhale. I don't have the best internal clock, but I can tell it's about time for me. Better to get out early then wait 'til the last minute and get caught. I stand up just in time to see the entrance open up, and duck back behind the mech's console. I can't be seen, but it's not worth anything. Soon enough, someone's gonna find me, and I'm going to be in deep trouble.

I take a chance and peak over the edge. A clock on the wall lets me know I should still be in the clear. Of course. An unscheduled event. Just perfect. Trying to keep calm, I look around the room for an opening. I can't explain why I'm in the mech, but at least I have the security credentials to pull off a decent excuse for why I'm the room. I just need to get down while the person in the room isn't looking.

"Hey, you!"

And before I can even finish thinking that this can't possibly get any worse, I'm proven wrong. Because the person glaring up at me is Cunningham Hume, IGPX superstar, and he's probably one of the few people in IGPX City with more money than I do, which means I can't pay my way out of this situation.

Just what I fucking needed.


Alright, I'll just be dropping this off. As you can guess, the chapters on this are going to be shorter than the usual standard. All in all, I think this story should actually be kind of short. Here's hoping I don't drag it on too long.

One of the challenges with first person is keeping a character without sounding too pretentious. Kirsten has a lot goin' on that I like, but her attitude feels a bit problematic to me as a creator. Hopefully she's an interesting read, at least.

I don't have a set date yet for the next chapter. If you got some time, go and check out my campaign for all my writing and story related projects.


Promo:

I should feel lost, have no hope, know I'm out of my league, ready to surrender, and disappointed in my failure all at once. But I don't.

Because this stupid situation is enough to make me feel excited.

[POST] 102115