Accessing the Future: A Disability-Themed Anthology of Speculative Fiction (13 page)

“Could ask you the same thing,” Bren countered, “last I heard you were going to be outland for another year.”

“Plans changed.” He hesitated for a second. Unlike Bren, Brice was a shitty liar. “One of my teammates was injured. My manager wanted to scout the auditions…” Bren could hear honest pain in his voice.

“That bad, huh?”

Brice made a soft “hmm” noise, then changed topics. “You never answered my question.”

“I came to watch the Auditions.”

Not a total lie, at least.

“By yourself?”

Bren felt the corner of her mouth twitch. “I’m here, aren’t I?” She held her brother’s gaze preparing to square off. Then her stomach growled. Meara snickered, and the tension dissolved. Soon, Bren and everyone on Team Howler were squished around the small table, bumping elbows and bolting down stew and hunks of carbo-loaf.

“You know, it’s strange,” Meara said after Bren’s bowl was licked clean. “I can’t help thinkin’ I’ve seen your face before.”

Bren swallowed. Meara knew her from the auditions. Her picture and license information were displayed before each match.

“Probably at one of the souvenir booths,” she suggested.

“Oh, Brice, I almost forgot,” Pitt mumbled between mouthfuls, “Nadine told me she’d be over later.”

Meara snorted, prodding Bren’s ribs. “We all know what that means!”

Bren didn’t at first. She was so relieved Meara didn’t blow her cover, the rig could have caved in without her noticing. Then Bren heard her brother hiss, “shut it” and realized exactly what Meara meant.

“You and Nadine…” Bren prompted, unable to resist.

Meara grinned. “…are on each other like magnets.”

Bren covered her mouth in delight. “Oooo, wait until I tell the guys back home!”

“Don’t you dare—” Brice began, but too late. Bren whipped out her palm pad. Brice dove for her, snatching it away before the call could go through.

“Hey! Give it back!” Bren laughed. But Brice kept her at bay with one foot and held her palm pad far out of reach behind him.

The device vibrated, then let out a particular chime, indicating a text from the Droid Battle Committee. This one likely concerned her next match.

Bren’s fingers twitched, aware that Brice was holding her secret in his hands. She reached again, trying not to sound desperate. “Give it back, damn it!”

But Brice must have seen something change. He stood and opened the message, reading aloud. “Pilot Brenna Gipson. Auditions opponent selection was approved—”

Bren snatched the device away before he could finish. “Bastard! What the fucking hell makes you think you can read—”

“You’re a droid pilot.”

His voice was almost a whisper, so unreadable that for a split second Bren wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug her or slap her.

Meara broke in. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere!”

Bren didn’t respond. She kept her eyes locked on Brice’s, not daring to look away.

“How long?” he said softly. There was warning in his voice. If she lied, he would know.

“Since my sixteenth birthday.”

“A year? An entire
year you’ve been doing this?”

Pitt and Meara watched the exchange with blissful ignorance.

“So she’s a pilot. What’s the big deal?” Meara asked.

“The big deal?” Brice’s reply sounded on the verge of frenzy. “The big deal is Bren is
blind
. I’ve risked my life for three years trying to fix—” he shook his head, fighting tears. “And now I find out you— Do you have any idea what I’ve seen—what I’ve had to—”

Bren started to cry, fierce angry sobs that came out more like screams. “Well, excuse me for not going along with your perfect plan, but this is
my
life and I don’t want any damned cybergear surgery
because I’m going to be a pilot!
I’ve already proved I can!”

She felt Brice’s glare before she saw it and when she looked into his eyes, it was like looking down the barrel of Fang’s gun.

“Oh really? How did you get past registration? Hmm? Bribe someone on the Committee? Hack the bio-scan?”

“Fuck you, Brice!” She started to storm out but Brice caught her shoulder and shoved her into a chair.

“No. You’re not running from this, Bren.” He pulled out his own palm pad. Bren gaped at him.

“You’re gonna snitch on me?”

“Fuck no. You think I want to see my sister in prison? I’m calling the hospital to schedule you for surgery.”

Bren blanched. “No! You can’t!”

“The hell I can’t. You’re seventeen. I’m still in charge for another year.”

Meara gaped. “You’re going to force her! That’s fucked up, Brice.”

“Yeah Brice,” Pitt added. “I mean I know she did sorta break the rules, but cybergear is so… permanent.”

“It’s also none of your business,” Brice snapped at them.

“No. It’s
my
business,” interrupted Bren. “Piloting is who I am. Yeah I admit I lied and cheated for it this time. I had no choice. But who’s to say the law won’t change?”

Brice just shook his head. “I don’t care if the law changes or not, Bren. I promised Mom and Dad I’d take care of you—”

“—and you think this is what they wanted?” She looked him hard in the eye. “Who do you think taught me how to pilot in the first place?”

The room grew very still.

“No, they wouldn’t…” Brice whispered.

“All those times Dad took me to run errands and you could never figure out why he always used Shadow instead of the hauler. Or when Mom taught me to repair droids even though you were better at it…”

“But your eyes—”

“Yeah they suck, so what? You know what Mom and Dad used to tell me? Piloting is a sense all on its own and if I trained hard enough, I wouldn’t even need my eyes.” She stood. “And guess what, Brice, they were right. Like it or not, I’m a damn good pilot.”

“Bren…” Her brother’s voice wavered. “I can’t. I can’t lose you like we lost—” His call went through. “Yes, I’d like to speak with someone in the cybernetics department about scheduling a surgery.” He started to leave the room. “Three days! Is that really the earliest appointment you have?”

Bren looked to Pitt and Meara.

“Sorry,” said Pitt softly. Meara punched him.

“Fuck this. Your battle was officially confirmed. I say show him what you can do!”

Not a bad idea. Bren raised her voice. “My match is in tomorrow’s lineup, Brice. If you really give a damn about me you’ll be there.”

Her brother stiffened.

“Fine,” he said, and was gone.

Meara gave Bren a lift back into the city. Angry as she was, Bren didn’t want to be under the same roof as her brother, let alone ask him for a ride. Meara was even kind enough to use her cred card to check Bren into a hotel.

“You can pay me back when you win.”

Bren smiled at the thought. In all the drama she had forgotten to check the match data.

“Who’s my opponent?”

“Aiden Victor.”

Figures.

“Going to be tough strategizing against him. Smug bastard’s used a different droid for each battle. He won’t even announce his droid’s model until the match starts.”

“He breaks weapon regs, too. I’ve fought him before. All flash and no skill.”

“Kicked his ass, did ya! Ha! No wonder he’s gunning for you,” Meara punched her playfully in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bren, unlike a certain prick back at the rig, I’ve actually watched you fight. I can tell you were holding back.”

“Thanks, Meara. It’s good to know at least one person believes in me.”

Bren tried to laugh at the irony, but the sound was closer to a sob.

Just outside the battle zone starting boundary, Bren moved Ivory Fang in a wide arc, veered sharply, then leapt over a small bolder in perfect view of the cameras. Her display provoked praising comments from the announcers.

Good
, she thought.
Let Brice see what Fang and I can do.

In the back of her mind, Bren wondered how he was feeling. Was he proud seeing his design brought to life? Or did he feel guilty, knowing his specs were the whole reason Bren was even out here?

Across the battle zone, Aiden’s debuting droid took a few lumbering steps towards the cameras as well. Then, with a lively prod from Aiden in the cockpit, the huge droid opened its mouth, revealing the glowing barrel of a pulse cannon, and roared.

“Oh, fuck.” Bren gripped Fang’s controls until her knuckles were white. She could hear the announcers mutter similar reactions through her tournament live feed.

“A dragus! No one’s been able to tame—”

“Thought the Committee had them all destroyed—”

Apparently not. The proof stood right there in the battle zone, its body glittering with the Victor family logo. And Aiden had the balls to pilot that thing? Perhaps she’d underestimated the youngest Victor.

As if he had heard her thoughts, Aiden opened a communication channel and his smug face appeared on Bren’s center monitor.

“I’m going to give you one last chance, Gipson. Forfeit now. Spare yourself an unnecessary thrashing.” There was an odd echoing quality as he spoke—his threat coming not just from his channel, but from the tournament’s feed as well.

That arrogant prick is broadcasting this live! He wants me to surrender with everyone watching!

So much for underestimating him, Bren fumed. Fang rumbled disapproval and teased the controls out of her hands. Bren didn’t resist her droid’s feral pull this time. The moment the battle timer hit zero, Fang aimed its rifle and fired, landing a shell smack between the dragus’s optical sensors. Caught by surprise, the huge droid staggered and barely righted itself. Then it roared.

“Ref!” Aiden shrieked through both channels. “That was clearly a violation of—”

Bren flicked on her own visual, projecting a sassy grin and her middle finger for all the Domes to see. “Hey, Victor, maybe if you spent less time gloating over your new toy, you’d notice the match started!”

“Why, you—”

She switched him off mid-retort. Much as she enjoyed irritating him, Bren had sense enough to know that Aiden’s dragus was probably pissed. And Aiden, being Aiden, would seek vengeance with his droid’s pulse cannon.

She directed Fang into a sprint for the nearest cover. The battle zone had been prepped with a decent number of tall boulders. Bren made for the densest concentration, ducking away just as she heard the dragus’s pulse cannon fire with a great
boom-virrrrrr
.

The ground shook. Fang’s sensors screamed a warning and Bren slammed the controls, barely avoiding a chunk of speeding boulder that could have taken off Fang’s head. Other smaller debris left dents in Fang’s chassis and a crack in the windshield. Bren switched to rear sensors, just for a second, and got a hazy, dust-filled view of the crater that had, moments before, been the boulder field. Aiden had missed her. Quite badly, in fact. But that wouldn’t stop his cannon from vaporizing her if she got any closer.

She enlarged Fang’s land readouts and tapped a point atop a mountain of boulders. The one grace of facing a pulse cannon—it took time to recharge. Enough time for Bren to take the high ground and lodge a bullet where it counted. Fang agreed, jumping agilely along a path of ledges up the mountain.

One leap away from the top, Fang’s sensory alarm blared, and it lurched to a halt.

“Unidentified droid signatures detected.”

Bren zoomed out her view and stared in horror. Thirty-five angry red dots moved across the placid greens and blues of her map. A feral pack that, if provoked, would kill everyone in sensor range.

Bren patched into the emergency channel.

“We read you, Pilot Gipson. Our sensors confirm the same. Initiating evacuation protocol.”

She was expected to return to the city. An announcement blared on her tournament live-feed, declaring the battle zone restricted and telling everyone to evacuate. A second later, Bren’s palm pad vibrated, then chimed with an official Battle Committee text. Bren skimmed the text quickly.

“Match data was verified…”

Blah, blah…

“Pilot Brenna Gipson and Droid Ivory Fang received a damage rating of 0% versus opponent Pilot Aiden Victor and Droid Revenge…”

Revenge? Really?

“…who received a damage rating of 0.02%… “

Victory by a potshot. So much for her epic Aiden ass-kicking. Bren tried opening a channel to Aiden, to concede to a re-match (though he didn’t really deserve it), but he didn’t answer. Instead she heard his voice blaring through his live-feed.

“No! This isn’t over! Ferals or no ferals, I’m finishing this match!”

Then all the sounds in Bren’s cockpit were overwhelmed by a BOOM-VIRRRR.

“Jump!” Bren screamed. Fang lurched for the top foothold. Only it wasn’t there anymore. Rocks exploded all around. One sent a portion of Fang’s left console jutting inward, showering Bren with sparks and shards of metal. Three more left networks of cracks across Fang’s windshield, obscuring the spinning world outside. Then everything stopped and something hard struck Bren’s head.

Far off in the distance, Bren heard a male voice sputter through static, calling her name. She opened her eyes slowly. There was pain in her side. A warm liquid dripped down her face, blurring her vision.

“Bren! Answer me!” the voice called.

“Dad?” Bren wheezed. The static skipped.

“Ferals…attacking… get out of there!”

Ferals. She blinked again. Ferals had killed her father. So who… Realization came, clearing some of the haze. That was Brice’s voice.

“I’m okay, Brice,” she said. “This is just a scratch. Right, Fang?”

Her droid rumbled, provoking sparks from the consoles.

“Come on. We gotta get back.”

She was having trouble breathing. Only one of her arms would move right. No matter. Fang knew what she wanted; Bren only needed to nudge the controls. Fang’s feral program would do the rest.

Fang rose slowly, joints shuddering. Its gait was off, Bren knew right away. Most likely one of Fang’s hind limbs was damaged.

The sound of battle stirred her and made Fang pause. Bren could hear numerous canids, four or five at least. And another droid. Its deep roar was fiery and familiar.