“Next train inbound to gate thirteen. This one’s not slowing. Rev those engines.”

The steely warmth of my sister’s voice crackles into my ears through the torrent of a monsoon downpour. We lurk together on the rumbling shoulder of a half-finished service road running parallel to the largest automatic freeway in the Section. Waves of machine-piloted transports thunder past us at a hundred miles an hour. Curtains of rain slap into our skinsuits, drowning the capital in reflections of its own skyline. Puddles of runoff swell beneath the gloss-black autobike that hums beneath us courtesy of Jolie’s hacking. Ajax and Mori wait on another.

Overlooking the electric heart of our Section, we watch through JOY-enhanced optics as the unmarked bullet train carves an uncontested path through ringed rail gates, industrial docks, and neighborhood stops. It slashes over the utopia like a seven-hundred-ton sniper shot. A funeral procession of red lights usher it past every obstacle in its path. Smaller metros and dormant maglevs smoothly leave the flow of traffic, opening a hole down the center of the rails for the transport to tunnel through with assembly line efficiency.

The sheer scope of the operation speaks to the depths of Shimano’s reach. They can orchestrate the backbone of the Section’s workforce to sing any song of their choosing. And tonight, it plays silence.

Our target transport thunders out of the Electric Town without once slowing, building speed as it nears the highway we wait atop. Miles further down the rails, it will reach an immense, ringlike track meant for ferrying mundane cargo around the industrial districts that ring the capital. If it manages to escape that loop and reach the rails destined for the Section’s outskirts, not even the fastest flight-capable class could catch it. Those tracks measure their speed in machs, not digits.

“Package confirmed,” Jolie says as the train flies past the Electric Town border. “We’re a go. Go, Mori!”

Jolie’s feet slam the bike’s pedals flat. My world smears into motion between blinks. The autobike leaps forward like a machine possessed, responding to my sister’s adrenaline. Ceramic wheels skim the asphalt for terrifying frames before finally catching. Rain accelerates from a harsh reprimand to a hellstorm of liquid bullets as we take off.

I lean close behind Jolie and shield my face from the storm, hair whipping out into a crimson tail. Two seconds of heart-sticking acceleration put us on the highway at triple digit velocity. Mori and Ajax lag and disappear between two lumbering hovertransports as they follow the merge. Then they skid the other side of a two-meter gap between the beasts a moment later, nearly turning into meat paste on the asphalt when Mori wings open the engine and joins us in earthbound flight.

My heart beats adrenaline, not blood. The speed is insane. I’ve never moved this fast in my life. My vision is a blur of lighttrails, shrieking wind, and sheeting rain. Only by concentrating on the individual details does anything stand out. I barely recognize the neighborhoods we tear over between blinks. As fast as we’re racing, the Shimano train gains in hungry bounds as it draws beside the highway, eating up track at a speed our bikes can’t hope to contest.

“We’re too far to jump! We need to get closer!” I yell into the comm.

Jolie’s ponytail bobs in agreement. “Service roads!” she barks.

I can almost hear the blood-drained fear in Ajax’s reply. “On what merger?!”

My sister replies by revving straight at the gap between us and the unfinished service road running parallel to the rails. Mori curses unintelligible Venter slang and lets out a grunt of effort as she wrenches her bike to the side, recklessly following hot on Jolie’s heels. Our wheels skip over thick puddles of water. Back tires skim. Ceramic sizzles in protest of the stress. A tight-chested second passes before Jolie regains control of the bike and shifts up, breaking new limits in the bike’s overclocked engine like she’s a Shifter cycling to an enhanced form.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Half-completed maws of rebar and shadows flash on either side. Running lights off, we accelerate between darkened patches of cityscape before finally drawing into parallel with the train right as we hit the industrial sector again. Apartments and towers give way instantaneously to dystopic stretches of pipelines and chemical plants on either side. The automatic highway peels off for uptown districts in the capital. Only the service road continues on. Another redlit gate whips past us at a hundred and fifty miles an hour. And we’re in the clear.

Precious seconds begin counting down in the corner of my vision, warning of the impending highway merge and return of traffic. Supersonic projectiles of rain force my eyes into a squint. My gaze rises to the technological comet we race against. The capital’s brilliance silhouettes its angles and shuttered viewports in halos of neon. In the distance, like a conquering spear impaling the city, the Shimano skyscraper and its fishhook logo sweep the sky with a legion of penthouse spotlights.

We’re only barely managing to hang onto the train’s serpentine tail. The autobike’s engine strains for everything it’s worth between my legs. Our window is shrinking fast. I can see the capital’s outermost wall in the distance; another train already merging into the miles-long ring around the city. Throwing caution to hell, Jolie snags control of Mori’s bike and brings it right alongside ours, then accelerates within thirty feet of the last car in the train. Industrial girders and pipes whip past us too quickly to pick apart.

My aura cuts into the storm like a knife.

Washing the bikes in rippling white, a single beat of my heart doubles down on the current of ki, pushing it towards a full vent. Aura sweeps over my skin in an electric shock. I haven’t fed my body a thrill like this in weeks, and it has only grown hungrier in the absence of adrenaline. My hands are ready to feed it.

Concentrating the kinetic energy, I tighten it to my skin and reach out with both hands, placing one on Ajax and one on Mori. My fingers clench tight in the rubbery fabric.

Our eyes meet through the rain. We share a nod. Then my aura surges, envelops us, flashes, and the world skips like a slideshow. I pull the others tight to my chest as we fire across the gap like a lateral arrow and crash into the roof of the train. We’re instantly smashed by the wind tunnel. Mori is almost thrown free of the roof. I look over my shoulder just in time to catch her by the ankle, saving her from instant death. Wind howls in my ears as I fight to return my gaze to the front.

Lights and metal flash out of the storm.

Two frames. I react in two frames, jerking Mori to the deck the moment before an overhanging girder slashes mere feet above the train. I lose a year off my life as it flies by. Ajax loses none. Then my inertia adjusts and I crawl up onto a knee, risking one last look at the capital while a death-struck Mori hugs my chest like a tree trunk. Her grip releases a moment later when Ajax points further ahead. Our communication is the instinctual evolution of our rivalry. Wordless and efficient.

We’re almost to the city walls already. Clock’s ticking.

Piloting both bikes through an electronic link, Jolie peels back from the train, pushing the machines to even higher speeds. “Eight minutes! Get Bishop! Stop Prazen! And someone punch Vex Shimano in his metal jaw for me!” she shouts. “Make a mess, Mars!”

Mori throws her head back and howls like a maniac. I join her without hesitation, and after a moment, even Ajax cuts loose, hurling out a wordless challenge to the storm and the heaven that threw it at us. Another gate almost clips his head off. He howls at that too, then flashes an exhilarated grin at me.

“Breaching on my mark. Triangle formation, rotate when I call for it! We’ve a lot of ground to cover, so work as a wave. Don’t stop moving!” He sucks in a deep breath, coughing speckles of blood into the night. “Are you ready!?”

I answer Ajax’s grin with one of my own. “Let’s rock!”

A circular opening forms in the roof at the center of our triangle, just barely wide enough for me to fit through. Running lights and crash-webbed crates fill the darkness below.

“Breach!”