The Revelers (Serial 1)

Act 1 - Chapter 20: Ari

I return to my room near Dr. Williams's office at the donut shaped facility known as The Labs, with my back resting on the bed and my eyes staring at the textured ceiling. It's the evening hours and I actually remember to close the curtains this time.

There's this feeling in my gut that Samza and Mezos did something to my ride and it's probably not good. Hell, I remember doing maintenance work on that bike a month ago. That thing is a bitch to take apart compared to the American and Japanese bikes I've worked on when I used to volunteer at Gilbert Maas's bike shop, Gilgamesh Motorsports. Still, I've gotten used to the Beemer's odd quirks, but it's still a pain in the ass if I need to fix something on it. Perhaps I should have listened to Cleo and got a Harley, or listened to Lucia and got a Honda. Yet, my electric Beemer is a fun thing to ride, no doubt about that.

So, I'm supposed to decide tomorrow. I'll admit — if it wasn't for mom, I probably would have escaped this island. Yet the folks on this island are actually pretty cool to hang around.

Mezos is like a timid little brother I've always wanted. My memory is hazy, but I think I had a brother once but left the orphanage when I was almost ten-years-old. Anyway, Mezos feels like a brother who I don't mind getting to know more.

Samza seems like the crazy one with a big mouth and an explosive personality. She looks like the type who would play loud banging music, either heavy metal or rap. Often both at the same time. Perhaps she's compensating for her short stature. I can imagine that. Maybe she actually drives a car with a crap ton of horsepower. I have not seen her car, but it wouldn't surprise me if that's what she rides.

Cithara and I never got adopted by a real family. Instead, we've always seen Dr. Williams, our foster mother, as someone close enough to me to be a mom. When Dr. Williams disappeared and faked her death, Cithara and I set off and carved our own futures. I became a member of The Neon City Valkyries WarGames team, honing my skills as a soldier while leading an army on a virtual battlefield.

Meanwhile, Cithara attended the California Institute of Technology and graduated magna cum laude with a degree in Bio-technical Engineering. CrystalCorp paid all of her education expenses in full, and she would get private air-shuttle rides whenever she physically had to be at the campus for her classes. Otherwise, most of her classes were online. In simple terms, she graduated with the knowledge of doing high-level cyborg shit. She even upgraded my cybernetic eye without all the crazy expenses that come with optical cybernetics. Thanks Cithara.

A knock sounds from my door.

"Come in. It's open," I say.

Mezos arrives and greets. "Hey, Ari. Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Did you hear about the news about your motorcycle?" he asks.

"Samza hinted it, and I just made a guess." I shrug. "I'm assuming you guys did something to it, yeah?"

"We did, but it's nothing bad."

"Probably something with the batteries, I take it? That floating jellyfish robot was dangling around three motorcycle batteries."

Mezos adjusts his glasses. "Jellyfish robot? Oh, you mean Alexander, Samza's robot familiar? Yeah, he was swapping out the batteries. They were empty when the bike arrived at the shop. Rowynn has a thing for going hard on motorcycles, especially your Precious Horse."

"Precious Horse?" I scratch my head, wondering what that could mean.

"That's what Chinese humans call a BMW — a Precious Horse or Bǎo Mǎ in Chinese. Your world's languages are weird, dude." Mezos pouts his lips.

"I never knew that."

"It's just some random thing I learned when Sam and I were researching the stuff about your bike."

Precious Horse. Such an interesting name for a BMW. I picture the sentiment of calling my Beemer precious. "Speaking of rides," I ask, my eyes opening in curiosity, "what is Rowynn's daily driver, anyway? I don't think I have seen it."

"It's a motorcycle, just like yours," Mezos answers. "It's manufactured by Mr. V's auto company, Ala~de~Edan Motors. Remember that white exotic car in his office? He designed that himself. He also designed Rowynn's motorcycle."

I remember that car. It's the Ala~de~Edan Pantera Uncia, an all-electric car that can produce 1500 kilowatts (or slightly over 2000 horsepower). They make only 50 of those every year and are super-expensive. "Yes," I say. If the price of the Pantera Uncia is anything to go by, I'd imagine the price of Rowynn's motorcycle to be just as ridiculous.

"Rowynn likes to call her Wild Khulan, The Intimidator."

The Ala~de~Edan Wild Khulan. That's a motorcycle with an unnecessary amount of horsepower — it's disgusting. While not as expensive as the Pantera Uncia, the Wild Khulan can still fetch a few whole Bitcoins, especially with only 100 Khulans built every year. With that money, I can buy a hundred BMW tri-battery motorcycles.

Still, I dig the name Rowynn gave to it. Reminds me of the NASCAR driver from long ago, long before I was born. Dale Earnhardt Sr. Yeah, that's him. I remember watching his races on NASCAR's archive. I doubt Rowynn named it after him, though, considering she comes from another world. But it would be pretty darn cool if she did.

"Does it have a big #3 sticker slapped on the side of the bike?" I ask jokingly.

Mezos taps the sides of his glasses. "No stickers or decals. Just an expensive hyper-bike in a matte black color. Why you ask?"

"Just curious," I say.

Mezos taps his glasses again and a series of holographic images scroll in front of its lenses, many of those flashing images revealing the face of Dale Earnhardt Sr. and his black #3 Chevy. "Oh, I see. I know what you're talking about now. It's a reference to a NASCAR driver who raced from 1975 to 2001. Wow, that's a long time ago. I didn't know you're into NASCAR."

"I watched the classics when I was little." I tilt my head but maintain my gaze on Mezos's glasses. "So, your glasses. You can Google stuff with it, yeah?"

"Yup," Mezos answers. "It's loaded with an in-house app we call Librascope. It lets us look up stuff and analyze parts of our surroundings. Sort of like what your cybernetic eye does and Google Lens on an average phone, but more awesome."

"Now that's pretty dope." Though my cybernetic eye doesn't Google random stuff like Mezos's glasses. "Anyway, I gotta head to bed. I have a big day tomorrow. I'm supposed to talk to the short rich guy at the top of the tower," I say, sounding tired.

Mezos laughs. "Well, I hope you enjoy your rest, then. Also, before I forget, if that Gunhild lady talks to you again in your sleep, let us know."

Shit. I almost forgot about her. Gunhild was creepy the first time I met her. Who knows what she's on about? "Sure," I say.

Mezos nods and departs from my room.

I close the curtains and doze off.

Blackness surrounds me. I hear an echoing breeze, chilling and ominous. Footsteps tap in my direction, yet I can't see who's coming. My ears also pick out the sounds of owls hooting and crows cawing.

"Arizona," a desperate girl's voice echoes. Something inside me is saying I should help her. Yet, I don't recognize her voice. "Arizona, where are you? Please help me." The voice calls out again.

I sprint, following the voice, wondering who that is. I can't see where I'm going, but as I keep running, the calls of crows and owls grow louder and violent. It sounds as if the birds are fighting each other.

Something collides into my path, knocking me on my ass.

A cloud of purple, black, and white appears before me and materializes into the familiar woad blue cloaked woman I've confronted last night with a snow white owl perched on one shoulder and a raven-black crow on the other. "You!" I yell. "Gunhild, why are you here?"

The scene of gray and death materializes behind her. Wilted trees and decaying plant matter decorate the sides of the unpaved road. White owls perch on the trees on one side, and the crows appear on the other. And right in front of me, Gunhild stands menacingly.