Catalyst

fiction by michael werneburg

"That's the question, Jim. If you look at a map of the racecourse, you'll see that the race course first sweeps way out to the east in a big arc along the prestigious neighbourhoods on the waterfront, and then heads into the city center along a somewhat smaller arc to the west. It then swings around the perimeter of the Old Town before coming to a third marker by the Prince's palace. The last leg is then a fairly complex path through the Old Town itself. All in all, the racecourse is a real tour of the city. Well, what Tilescu has noticed is that the three mandatory markers form a fairly straight line. And from his course so far, he's adhered to that straight line remarkably well."

"Amazing. And the race officials are saying that this will stand?"

"Yes. Incredibly, they have discovered exactly the same thing that Tilescu must have in the days or weeks prior to the race. As Keith O'Brien, today's master of ceremonies pointed out, the only rule is that you have to have your photos of all three markers when you cross the finish line."

I gasped. The organizers had spotted their weakness and let it go ahead as planned! I was panting but the grade had eased off, and I was into the final flat stretch that led to the second marker. I could see an intersection ahead. It was packed with people.

"So, with Tilescu's lead contracting a bit to just over three and a half kilometers, we're going back to Charlene Tomayatsu at the first marker. Charlene?"

"Thanks, Jim. Well, the carnage here at the first marker has been cleared up to some extent. Security forces—both official and private—have made a number of arrests. Medical services are also on the scene. It seems that some fourteen people are confirmed dead from the pulse blast, mostly as a result of failed medical implants."

I shot through an intersection that had been blocked off in an impromptu fashion by mixed security forces in armored cars. No more near collisions with vehicles, I supposed. The din from the crowd was unbelievable, I lost the commentary in my implanted audio to the noise. I saw someone fire at a micro-drone with a slingshot and dodged the falling drone with ease. I screamed at someone to get out of my way on the far side of the intersection.

Making easy progress, I leaned into it a bit and eased off on the pedals. My breathing was returning to normal but my heart was pounding. The synthetics I'd taken had left a metallic taste in my mouth, and my stomach felt a little sore. Health effects were the only reason I'd been leery of taking them in the first place. Although they were quite illegal, to discover their use a doctor would have to cut me open and take part of my liver. I didn't foresee that happening to investigate a race in which people were murdering each other.

"Now," said Charlene at the first marker, "a pulse weapon is a highly illegal entity in Dusylin, as it is just about everywhere else. But it's also a fairly bulky item," she suggested. "And even though there are questions arising over the security checks carried out by race officials as a result of the shooting of Jules Conso and several others, it is thought that such a weapon would simply be too large to carry on a bicycle. So the investigation is looking into the possibility that someone in the crowd set off this terrible weapon."

I zipped through another blocked-off intersection. People were cheering me on. I couldn't make out any words, but they seemed to be shouting their encouragement. I glanced at the map on my HUD. I was still well ahead of the next group of cyclists. Top ten, I just needed to be in the top ten!

"Charlene," asked the anchor, "I understand that things are running a bit more smoothly at the first marker?"

"Yes. As you can see behind me, a steady stream of riders is now passing. These were mostly people from the middle of the pack before everyone abandoned the official race-course. Things are going fairly smoothly, and riders seem more intent on closing with the leaders than jockeying for position at this point."

"Charlene we have at least one rider now approaching who has been very interested in jockeying for position, as you say."

"That's right. Larisa Kuan is expected within the minute. As you can see, we're now moving to a position somewhat further back from the main course in preparation for her arrival."

"Heh heh, that sounds wise, Charlene. When you-"