Catalyst

fiction by michael werneburg

I'd forgotten that the Doctor was even there. He seemed to be spelling out an optimal route for Goss, which suggested that he hadn't been tipping me off, earlier. Or maybe Goss was the new favorite?

"And his odds look good," said Dan, the color man, "he's making excellent time with that Kiwi hybrid bike, and he's about as close to the finish as the leader is. This race is wide open, once again."

I almost wished I couldn't hear the commentary. How much sweeter to have think the berserk Goss was behind me rather than waiting up front. Had Goss heard the commentary about Harami's possible plans to steal a camera? Because he seemed to be pursuing the same strategy. All either man needed to win was the photos in my camera.

I decided it was time. I reached down and opened my pannier. Reaching in, I pulled out and tossed the break-fix kit to lighten my load. I then pinched the little button in the pannier's lid and felt the small electric motor in the frame kick in. It was not a strong motor and the old batteries held very little charge, but I could barely go on by myself.

"And what about the leader, Cyrus Tilescu? At this point, he doesn't seem to be pedaling. He's doubtless considering strategy in the light of the revelation that others have changed the stakes."

"I'd agree, but he doesn't seem to actually be slowing? Is he descending a slope?"

"You know, I think you're right. Could that old frame really house a motor?"

"Almost certainly. So, maybe not 20th Century, more 21st Century?"

"He's chosen the perfect time to use it. He must be exhausted, and he needs time to think."

"A real tactician, this paramedic. Having Goss somewhere in front of him is surely reason for pause!"

While they babbled in my ear, I considered the facts. The expressway gang behind me was down to only a few. I couldn't possibly outrun them, and I didn't think Goss would try to catch one of them at 150kph. He'd be looking for me. There was maybe no way I could beat Goss to the finish line, nor was there any way I could elude him with the camera crew following me. But I knew the city, and as far as I knew, Goss didn't. That meant I could probably elude him if I could somehow elude the camera crews. But how? As I wheeled along the harbor-front, I thought of the shopping center there. It was a big mall, and it led to the underground system of passageways that connected some of the other buildings in that part of the city. I checked the time and made a decision. I followed an off ramp.

"And now we're seeing Tilescu change course," exclaimed the anchor. "Doctor, where is he going?"

"I suspect he might be heading for the shopping district, where he'll be able to lose himself in the crowd," the Doctor ventured. Something in his tone, though, suggested that he might be hedging. I wondered if he suspected my true intent.

"Okay, so we've seen a much reduced group closing on the third marker. We have Hirami, Kuan, and two others circling the drive at the Prince's palace, and we understand that the stragglers from the Old Town are closing fast. Dan?"

"Right. Kuan and the others will want to stay ahead of that pack, Jim. They've got a fair distance to cover to the finish line, and they've got a tough obstacle to overcome in Warren Goss. They've got Tilescu out there, some two kilometers ahead, and still very much in the game. Frankly, I'm not surprised we've seen so much positioning in that group. Harami's grenade managed to knock out some thirty-plus contestants, and there may be further thinning of the herd."