Every day at 5 p.m., find a new episode of Mortal Derby X on 20 Minutes , Rocambole's soap opera, the app for reading differently. This series of SF projects us into a post-collapse world, the king sport of which is Quad Derby, a confrontation halfway between Roller derby and Rollerball. Its author, Michael Roch, is not an unknown. He has already published science fiction novels and hosts the YouTube book brigade.
Summary of previous episodes: During a Quad Derby match accident, Molly Pop, star of this sport, is violently kicked off the track by another competitor. She wakes up in the hospital with prosthetics in place of the legs and hatred deep in the heart. What is not tolerated in the Cocoon, the only protector of the human species since the Great Collapse of 2030 ... Molly is condemned to exile. Barely out of the Cocoon, she falls on Tob who makes him discover Althen, the largest city in the Free World and enlists him in his team to participate in the Mortal Derby X.
EPISODE VII - First stripes in Althen
In the dilapidated shelf that serves as a cloakroom, Molly grabs a pivot helmet. The one striped with a single, wide white stripe. He sticks to her head. Slip on elbow and knee pads. Remove the knee pads, unnecessary. Focuses on the feet, ankles, toes, with flexion and extension movements. Everything works on command, but still no sensation. Ghost members, soulless, who obey her without her realizing it. Finally, she passes the quads. They are its size, identical to those of the Cocoon, despite the wear and the front brake which is not in rubber, but in iron.
When Molly Pop straightens up, it's a click. It regains its usual size and its landmarks on the ground. They are more precise, refined by neurotransmissions and the biotonic power of his prostheses: stability, gravity, inversion of the feet. Mechanics roll power four.
In two pushes, the former champion joins a cross of old studs drawn on the ground. Press from the center, east at three meters. Go back to the center, point, push south. Go around the cross. Molly Pop regains her agility.
On the Track, a pivot has two roles: that of being in strategic command of the pack to block the progression of opponent jammers, and that of replacing its jammer if it is ejected from the Track. His training is twofold.
On the rink, Molly Pop does not count laps. Ax his shoulders. Patina forward, throw back, pass from one position to another by spreading the quads as you open a book. It continues on the ramps, finds its balance, its traction, its pivot points, its propulsion. On the ramp, as on the gutter, you have to know how to keep your speed, go up the slope and use the accelerator without ever forcing, under penalty of ejection.
And in the Free World, Tracks have no net.
When she finishes focusing, Molly Pop is swimming. She undid the top of her pants, buckled on her waist. His chest rises to the rhythm of his burning breath. On the upper level, on the gangways and railings, the Ravine Skulls pack mate. Among the faces, there is only one smile which does not seem mocking or jealous, but almost sincere. Broody is the last to return to her room.
In the morning, the leader finds her on the rink.
- Slept well ?
- Tob showed me Kinky Doll's room.
- She was a good element ... I thought you would have left in the night.
- I think I'm going to stay. He told me to hit his things. To change me.
Broody lets out a sigh.
- Look, I was not very welcoming. I was surprised to see you both on the way back from the trekday. But watching you roll last night ...
She pursed her lips, holding back the end of her sentence.
- And while chatting with Tobie, I think you should stay too.
- I won't bite your guy. I'm not like that.
She laughs.
- He's not my guy. And if you want to run for the Ravines, I have to brief you.
- This whole story - if I stay - is that an exchange of good procedure.
- Don't tell me, I don't want to know. We all have our history here. But the goal remains the same: win the championship, pocket the cash, and buy enough drugs to forget the shit we live in. You can chat with the girls, you will quickly differentiate between those who were born free, and those who were confined. Our differences get along, we all have our accent, but basically, we don't care. We're here for the Derby X. We're here to ride. There are only two championship rounds. The first race is in two days. It just gives us time to familiarize you with the terrain.
When Broody opens the door to the room, the light of day hits them with full force. Natural, Molly Pop has never seen it, much less the mountains that surround Althen and the Cocoon.
- Yeah, it was a shock the first time. Not a single book or a single screen can transfer this thrill that creases your back when you look at them with your own eyes.
The dry wind from the valley slams its overcoat. Broody examines her from the bottom up, dusting off the loden bought the day before.
- How are you dressed? Skinner, loden and brace? You will go unnoticed. Put your skates under your arms. Let's go.
She drags her down the steep road that borders the ravine. We found the concrete necessary to build it, not to maintain it. On the other side of the chasm lies the wild, rocky, forgotten nature. The Cocoon overlooks the landscape. After a few minutes of climbing, the two jammers plunge into Althen fever. Men and women haggle non-stop, fighting over the value of scrap metal, dead rats, cans with the Bluediver logo, free alcohol. All are trying to get along to survive. All of them caulk under thick clothes, patched lodens under which bags and pockets are stashed, safe from thieves. Some show small weapons on their belts or wrists, with projectiles or electrical impulses, others protect their face from a brace, a respiratory mask or a pair of oculus with augmented reality, even if their use seems more to keep cold than to connect to a network. At the bend of a barrack, filthy brats are naked in a rusty puddle.
- Watch out. Nobody cares. Brothels, slaves, they are everywhere here. These will be sold, taken to other districts or behind the Mountains, if they are not raped by the people. All that the Cocoon expels, the Free World does not prohibit. Come here.
Althen is not free. She is wild. When we look beyond the compact mass that bectes and squirts, beyond the walls and sheets that barely mask the interior of buildings, we discover the neurosis and madness of this people. The laughter is miserly and selfish, the painful crying, and the cries echo with a thousand different emotions. You get rid of your civility as you scrape your filth with the blade of a knife. In the shadows of the buildings, in the abandoned alleys, where the glowing propellers do not turn, Molly Pop sniffs the smell of the blood of the forgotten people of Althen, those who no longer have the strength to survive, or who do not never had it. It reeks of debauchery and excess, it crawls, it itches, it pierces and it injects. In a dark corner, out of sight, a man, seated on a crate, masturbates.
- Let's not stay there, Broody tells him a few meters from her.
She guides her to the Zone, a labyrinth of reinforced concrete. At the entrance, the leader activates a pocket taseur and takes Molly Pop to the roof of an abandoned building.
- We are on the former worker site of the Cocon construction site, before the Great Collapse. He surrounds the tower. According to the free born elders, the Cocoon had eight entries. Eight elevators to allow access to workers, loading of materials and reception of the first occupants. When the Cocoon was filled, the Requisitors destroyed seven, and transformed the last to make it the Reclaimer. The workers lived in the buildings on which we are, but the quarters could never be reoccupied because of the snipers who cleaned the area from the tower.
- Snipers?
- They show themselves only during large gatherings in the Zone, such as for Derby X, for example.
- Is it because of them that Kinky Doll died?
- No. She was pushed out of the Track by an opposing blocker. The chasm around the Cocoon, carved out of the mountain, is several hundred meters deep. There is a power plant below. This is where all the energy from the Cocoon comes from, and all the energy consumed by Althen too. If you fall, it is guaranteed death: not even certain that you are still alive at impact because of the temperatures that emerge, you burn out during the fall. The Track is located on the site's old freight networks. They go around the chasm, ten meters below the level of the bridge. The construction material was transported to the site by electrically propelled wagons housed in the Gutters and Tubes located in the rock. It won't take you from the inside.
- We are going for a walk ?
- It was the goal.
They descend into the alleys where a few rats await them. Broody crashes them with a guaranteed punch. Between the warehouses, they zigzag to an underground entrance. A gentle slope leads to huge sliding doors that have been left ajar. On the ground, before the slope, a white line is painted on the surface.
- There are six entry points on the Track. This makes six race starts all around the circuit. One for each team. As a jammer, I start from this line and go for the Rail. You, pivot and blockers, start in the center, in the Tube which makes the outside of the Track. Then everyone goes around in circles. Follow me.
They start from the line, descend the slope and rush into the underground corridor. The ceiling of the Rail is perforated at regular intervals, punctuating the race. The ground, smoothed by the intense traffic of the working wagons, is perfect for their wheels. At the end of the corridor, a slight turn propels them to the right, into the Tube.
- The Tube is cluttered with obstacles, shouts Broody, wagons in roads, puddles, landslides, chains, sheet metal dragging. You have to be careful, the blockers are pouffes and don't hesitate to use them.
The two women, folded in half on their quads, are chasing each other. In flip-flops, dodges and kicks, they jump, bypass and cross the obstacles that stand in front of them. Holes on their left overlook the other part of the Track, the Gutter overhanging the chasm. With a quick stride, they borrow it.
- There, if you don't go fast enough, the Cocoon shooters can have you. To score points, the jammer must pass an opposing blocker or cross the starting lines of other teams by rolling in the Gutter.
- Who counts the points?
- Referees are stashed at the starting lines of the Tube. They are not dishonest, even if they are paid by Trevor Rigball, organizer of the Derby and boss of the Wicked D. The first team to reach fifty points wins the round. We are entitled to a maximum of twenty-one runners on the Track. The Ravine Skulls are fifteen.
On the Gutter, no obstacle. The curved walls are lower than those of the Cocoon. It is much easier to get ejected. The two jammers, deported to the outside, rush at a crazy speed. Three-quarters of a turn, Broody motioned for him to stick to his ass. They tighten their right and pass over a collapsed part of the Gutter. A heat wave rising from the Molly Pop tank pit in the face.
- What was that?
- A Wicked D jammer blew herself up a month ago, right here. She was carrying a bomb. We never understood the reasons for his suicide, even if we have doubts. This is where Kinky Doll fell, during the last derby. It is the only trap of the Gutter. We go back up, it's over for today.
They emerge from the Track. The image of the infernal void plunging into the reactors of the Cocoon is fixed in the retina of Molly Pop. At the entrance to the Rail, as they unravel their quads in silence, a stone rolls at their feet. Invisibility holograms deactivate one by one. A group of raters surrounds them.
To be continued…
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