Catalyst
fiction by michael werneburg
"It seems that they've thrown themselves behind Tilescu!"
"In Dusylin, that could mean many things, but I'm smelling money!"
"You said it, Jim. Anyone who placed bets on Tilescu before the race could stand to make more than he will!"
On hearing this, a knot formed in my stomach. I didn't want to know that I had people placing bets on me. That's all I'd need, to get my kneecap broken by some punter who'd lost his wages should I fail.
"Now other riders have arrived at the marker," announced the anchor, "and—oh my God! A rider has plowed into the spectators covering the marker. He's off his bike and is beating spectators with a baton. It could only be, yes: It's #302! Warren Goss has reached the second marker. And he's off, and that's #23, Homer Norris from Christchurch right behind him. Where are they going, Doctor?"
"It seemed that Goss was heading for the same route that Tilescu took, but he seems to have changed his mind and followed Norris. They've selected a rather steeper route to the third marker -"
"I'll say they have, they're both heading right down the famed 400 stairs of Dusylin," exclaimed the anchor. "Doctor, what lies at the bottom of the stairs?"
"Well, it's a residential part of the Old Town. Not a particularly good neighborhood. In fact, you may recall that when the race passed through in 2207, a teenage boy with an antique rifle-"
"The sniper. Reginald Collins, the sniper who went on to star in the Exocide movies," gushed Dan.
"That's right," the Doctor said. "Now, there are no bad neighborhoods, just opportunities to expand certain projects-"
"Hold that thought, Doctor! So, we've got two inexperienced cyclists heading down one of the longest sets of stairs in these islands, and after that passing into the neighborhood where no professional cyclist has dared tread these last ten years. Where will it all end. Dan?"
"Well, Jim, I've got to say those guys have guts! They'll knock off some of Tilescu's lead for sure, but I wonder if the riders on the expressway aren't more of a threat?"
"Right, let's have a look at the remaining leaders. We've seen Tilescu make good time through the Old Town, we've seen fellow unknown, Homer Norris—the second man to reach the first marker—take a dangerous route with a killer on his heels. And now, we've got some twenty cyclists on the route that Tilescu took, and rather more on the expressway. Doctor, tell me about the expressway."
"It's the longest, but surest route to the Prince's palace," the Doctor surmised. "Not much traffic, certainly no decisions to make along the route. That's certainly the route I'd take if I were unfamiliar with the city. Or driving," he added.
"Driving! Well, that brings us to the difference in the bikes we're seeing here today. Dan, are we seeing a breakdown in path to the third marker based on bicycle technology?"