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 X - On the line
Twice a month, at nightfall, all of Althen migrates in the greatest effervescence to the Zone. We light barrel lights, huge torches erected against the dark sky. We scream, we sing, we laugh. We empty the cans of adulterated Bluediver, we swallow pills and hallucinogens, we grease roast rat, we provoke, we push, we fuck, we fight, we gut. Derby X is a celebration for life, where it is worth nothing, or no more than everything else.
Le Monde Libre piled up in the former working-class area, to show the Cocoon that it was still there, alive and well, and that it was boring. The most daring, or the most stoned, go up to the rooftops of the Zone to challenge the tower. Some are shot by the Cocoon shooters. The raters mingle with the rest of the population, silent, invisible, taking advantage of excess and generosity in their cannibalistic manner.
The Roller-Quad teams are warmly welcomed. The crowd opens on their passage. Women howl with hysteria, show their breasts, raise their fists to the sky. The men masturbate in front of the runners, scarify themselves, throw themselves on the ground. The jammers are the most revered. Most self-harm is done in their honor.
In front of the underground entrance assigned to the Ravine Skulls for the occasion, Brood B. Queen gives them the latest directions.
- In front of us is the Fatties team from Althen West. You will quickly catch them. Behind, there are the Hells Pit, from Ravin Nord.
- Where are the Wicked Demons compared to us? send one of the girls whose tee is marked "Mama Doom".
- At the opposite. If all goes well, we shouldn't be dealing with them.
- What is special? asks Molly Pop. Are they stronger? More strategists?
- They're zombies.
Molly Pop refrains from snickering, but the other girls seem serious. Broody B. reassures her.
- They're shot with a drug, V-rus. It makes them more aggressive on the Track.
- Dope is allowed?
- All shots are allowed on this Track.
- So why don't we take it ...
- I want the Ravines to stay in control. Otherwise, we would change jammers every two months as Rigbal does with his team.
As he pronounces his name, Broody's gaze clings to a surrounding roof. Rigbal, accompanied by the old ratig with arms of steel, dominates them. The man is tall, bald and has a beard of a false prophet. The right half of his face is deformed by a biotonic implant. It disappears very quickly.
- When we talk about the wolf.
- What is he doing here, this bastard? spits out one of the girls.
- He's checking the rumor: Molly Pop is with us.
Brood B. Queen orders the girls to move into the gutter. It then takes position on its starting line. In the tunnel, Mama Doom approaches Molly Pop.
- Do you want a good tip? Let's sinter with the Fatties! If we hit the end of the Rail before their jammer, we can nail it to our asses to the end without it pointing once. It’s one less, Broody will do the rest.
- I don't want any blocker on the Gutter. Is it drawn?
- We'll try it.
- No blocker. Let's go eat some Fatty.
With big pushes on their quads, fourteen girls jump into the Tube. They circulate in single file between the sheets which clutter the hose, lit by the yellow lights of the incandescent propellers. They quickly join the entrance to the Althen West team. The Fatties are ahead, but their jammer is in sight, barely out of the Rail. In alcoves arranged overhanging the Track, the populace is overheated and floods the Tube with a deaf clamor.
Molly Pop, with a wave of her hand, orders her pack to speed up. They chase the jammer. Tall and muscular, she wears a “Hit that! Excessive. When she realizes that she is being followed by the Ravine Skulls, she takes the tangent and passes on the Gutter. Molly Pop orders again that we stick her in the ass. The girls behind grumble at the effort.
- You want to kill us before the others?
- We double it in this Tube.
- Fatties straight ahead! yells his follower.
Several members of the Althen West pack block the tunnel. Their faces are painted in the colors of bad day clowns, black and white. They hold iron bars, heavy chains and rusty pipes, awaiting the Ravine Skulls with a firm footing.
- They are not masses, notes Mama Doom. They had to split their group.
- Chances are there on the Gutter?
- Any. If they are not mobile, they are lowered by the shooters.
- So we go into the pile.
To be continued…
Discover the next episode on our site on May 7 at 5 p.m. or on the Rocambole app for iOS or Android.
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