The Invisible Universe

By ZacAndrews

114K 2.1K 615

What lies beyond the senses? What secrets have been hidden from you due to your physical limitations? Is th... More

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Traction: Part 2
Traction: Part 3
Traction: Part 4
Traction: Part 5
Alpha Division: Part 1
Alpha Division: Part 2
Alpha Division: Part 3
Alpha Division: Part 4
Alpha Division: Part 5
Alpha Division: Part 6
Alpha Division: Part 7
Alpha Division: Part 8
Alpha Division: Part 9
Time Machines: Introduction
Time Machines: Part 1
Time Machines: Part 2
Time Machines: Part 3

Traction: Part 1

6.1K 223 54
By ZacAndrews

The steel doors opened without making a noise. Their heavy bulk grinding against the hard stone floor silently as what little air that remained, was sucked out of the airlock and into the void. The sunlight came pouring in the second the two doors had parted, the lack of atmosphere allowing its full glory to shine down on the cold steel room; casting a pure white glow over everything inside, which incidentally wasn't very much. Being an airlock, it wasn't a place you would want to store your most treasured possessions. The steel walls acting as mirrors, reflecting the bright light around the empty room with a dazzling intensity. If it wasn't for his tinted visor, Marvin would have been forced to shield his delicate eyes from the scene. He was thankful he didn't have to.

The doors came to a sudden stop, revealing that now familiar view. The open surface of the Moon. Those lonely grey peaks standing like ancient sentinels, watching, guarding Earth's closest neighbour against an unseen enemy. The deep and scattered craters that peppered its plains, bringing texture to an otherwise desolate world. Distant rocks and minerals, catching the light in just the right way to create a sparkling effect, as if the stars themselves had found their way down to the ground. This timeless world, that was unshaped by wind or rain, remaining motionless throughout the millennia. Marvin's place of work.

Apart from the faint vibrations rippling up Marvin's legs; due to the doors previous movements, and the sound of his own breathing, everything was still and quiet. As if the universe itself had been put on pause. No matter how many times he had seen it this view never got old.

Once he was satisfied with the scenery, he made his way outside onto the coarse rocky slope. Taking those long and rather comedic strides to account for only weighing around 16% of what he normally would. He followed a purpose-built track that led him down the nearby cliff side. Curving down and off to the right at quite a steep gradient, he essentially spent the majority of the walk floating, waiting patiently for each step to land before lifting of again to continue his controlled descent. Upon reaching the bottom of the cliffside, where the path levelled out, the normally bare view of the Luna landscape was replaced by an energetic race-track start line. 

For almost thirty years now The Moon had been used as a staging ground for a series of motoring events. Starting as a publicity stunt for any competing space-faring company of the 21st century, it quickly became the large scale event it was today.

In the early days the competing companies would film their achievements, broadcasting them to the world.  A clumsy looking buggy or rover making its way awkwardly along the rocky terrain, hoping to attract interest from the general public and, more importantly investors. As the appeal in space travel grew, it became more and more important for these companies to be seen as the leading pioneer of this exciting industry.

As a way to make their competition look "behind the curve" each company made sure their latest design was far superior to that of their competitors. The 2nd space race had begun.

Eventually the endless competition got to the point where races were undertaken. Short distance, simple tracks designed to see who truly had the best (and worst) machine. Fast forward 30 years to the present and these initially small scale races, had become large, extravagant and live televised events. With sponsorships, merchandise and general fame included, the drivers where no longer unknown men and women hidden behind tinted helmets but celebrities famous across the globe.

Marvin (as you might have guessed) was one of these motorised celebs. Specifically he was the Space-X representative for the 17th annual Men's Luna Motor GP. A one lap motorbike race to determine the next world championship.

He waddled out onto the bustling start line, walking in-between the bikes that had been neatly lined up in their starting positions. Two columns side by side. Being one of the lead contenders in this race, his bike was positioned towards the front of the pack, so he had a bit of a walk on his hands. He didn't mind; the lack of outside noise gave him time to relax and collect his thoughts before the start of the race.

Among the parked vehicles were the other riders and their connected support teams, all hustling about doing their final pre-race checks and preparations.

Checking tyre pressures, oil levels, temperature gauges and all the other bits and bobs that racing people cared so much about. Marvin very rarely got involved with it all, preferring to leave that to his pit crew. After all, that was their job. His job was to drive. Theirs was to fix and maintain.  As a highly trained group of people, they had spent years of their finite life learning the complete inner workings of all Luna machines. Marvin truly believed that they could dismantle and put back together any Luna bike blindfolded. He trusted in their expertise. As long as the bike worked, Marvin didn't need to know the ins and outs of how it did.

Being amongst the low gravity hustle and bustle was like walking (or waddling) through one giant advert. Everything that wasn't either the track, or a moon rock, was covered in advertising. The side barriers, television camera towers, bikes, suits and supporting buildings formed a collage of slogans, quotes and pictures. Just like the races back on earth, each team had their own main sponsor who had paid an unearthly amount of money to have their advert up here. The connected logos and slogans printed on the bikes and items of clothing.

The pressurised suits, which kept everyone from freezing to death  turning their soft body's into badly flavoured ice-lollies, were essentially walking billboards,  covered head to toe in related adverts. The main focus for Marvin's suit was Space-X, however he was also sponsored by his local brewery back on Earth, having "Out of this world beer!" written across his back.

"Here he comes, the drink driver!" came through on Marvin's intercom, his HUD display informing him that they were the words of Anton Haas, a fellow rider, a good laugh. The drink driver being a frequent joke he made at Marvin's expense due to his previously mentioned alcohol themed sponsor.

Looking up ahead Marvin could see his bright green suit glistening in the intense sun as he came round the front wheel of his equally green bike.

"Well I thought I ought to get a little drunk in order to make the race fair on you." Marvin smiled, not that Anton could see him smile under the visor.

"Oh did you? Thank you, so considerate."

"I try."

"Well I'm feeling good today. Ready to go and switched on! So watch out!"

Marvin pointed to the sponsor logo on Anton's bike, a very popular energy drink. "You've had one of those then?" He asked as he drifted past.

"Oh lord no! Can't stand them, taste like rat piss! I would rather punch a tree down with my bare hands then have another can of that monstrosity. Besides, I don't drink before I race, unlike some." He chuckled. Mounting the bike as he did.

"That's not what you say at the press conferences! I thought you have one before every race to get your game on!" (Get your game on, was the drinks famous slogan.)

"Yeah, it's amazing what I will do for a pay check." Anton laughed while Marvin continuing his march towards the font of the Queue. "It's not as bad as Dani mind." Anton continued.  "He claims to enjoy a nice slice of Western-Hills cheese after a race when I know for a fact he's lactose intolerant! I like to think I'm not that bad."

Marvin nodded inside his helmet, "Yeah that is pretty bad, but he gets away with it because he looks good, he has a good face to attach to a product. He could be selling U-bends for toilets and I would still buy!"

"You saying I don't look good?" Anton queried.

"Well put it this way. I'm glad these visors are mirrored. Seeing your rotten face before a race would put me right of my focus, imagine if you won! Your glorious mug printed all over the world on posters and magazines. It would be a disaster!" Marvin replied in his usual sarcastic tone.

"Well it would certainly be better than seeing Lukaz's face all over the place. Let's agree that no matter what happens today, we make sure that man doesn't win."

Marvin laughed cheerfully "Agreed. If that happens, the apocalypse can't be far behind."

"If he wins, which might I point out, statistically he's incredibly likely to. I might take a page out of your book and get very, very drunk."

"Well the beers will be on me, or my sponsor at least."

"Ok, I will hold you to that." Anton concurred, before sitting down atop his florescent green bike. "Anyway shut up now I'm plugging in and good luck!"

"Ok see you after, good luck." Marvin concluded before the com-link was cut off, leaving him once again alone with his thoughts.

Continuing past a few more riders, some of which he spoke to, Marvin finished his walk down advert avenue, reaching his own Luna bike.

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