Chapter 2: February 2nd, 2350 AD

“Men and women! Welcome to the Oshun-400 racing event!” the overhead announcement called out. The enthusiastic call had riled the population in a layer of cheer. By now, Neo had gotten used to this.

It had been three months later. The memories of the distant battle seemed vacant in Neo’s mind, at least for now. He was taking deep breaths as he was thinking about how the day was going to progress. He had the racetrack memorized in his head over and over again.

He placed his hand to his heart and could feel the black and brown jacket. He knew that he was about to walk out into the roaring crowds of the streets of Oshun. The people had been waiting for this. Ever since the alleged alliance treaty with the T’rintar, one of the clans of the Itreans, all seemed to be at a state of relative peace and calm. The population had demanded to see the revival of their favorite past sports. The entertainment field was uneasy but fell wholeheartedly into what the people wanted. So much had happened in the first few months than what would happen in the entirety of five years of development. Aliens had become allies. An unknown opponent had become a friend.

Of course, for Neo, that wasn’t what was on his mind as he took one last look at the surrounding environment. The makeshift tent was his place of refuge as he had a pleasant view of the splashing ocean water. Residing on the continent of Girinhi Kinshasha, he was in the hub of the tourist industry of Oshun. The rich and fanciful had complete claim over this region of the great metropolis. The entrance of the tent would allow the scent of the salty seas into the area. It perforated his senses allowing his mind to be at ease. His tent was filled with his belongings as he sat down not far from his workbench.

Everything was supplied to him. The sponsorships were behind him like flies stuck to glue. Tools filled the brought in cabinets. Parts littered the vicinity. Engineers and mechanics were always promised to him, but he never needed an actual pit crew. He wanted to do everything for himself.

The foldout chair was positioned so that he had a perfect view of the ocean. His racing stripes and clothing radiated from the light blue and semi-purple sky from the distant sun. He would shift at times as he could feel the slight tingle coming from his right leg.

His leg ... for a moment, his mind would momentarily be distracted as he looked at it. He tapped it with his palm as he could feel the sensors on it were not entirely aligned correctly. The augmented leg served as a viable replacement to what he lost, but it wasn’t 100% perfect. He would move his toes and could tell that his fourth and fifth toe wouldn’t move as it was supposed to underneath the boot.

“Again ... that damn malfunction...” Neo sighed. “I’ll need to take it apart and find out what is causing it.”

The cheering crowd was beginning to pick up. There was the distant sound of the announcer that was calling out the racer’s names as they were heading to their respected vehicles. It was nearing time. Everything was set. The tent felt so empty that it had Neo recollecting what was going to happen. It was missing the most important thing.

“Ahgh...” he said. “Even with the motorcycle, it isn’t enough. Now it is too quiet. Got to do this ... got to get up.”

He stood up as he could see that his right augmented leg was going to work as it should. It would have to. He started to head out of the tent. His eyes would have to adjust to the glare that the sunlight gave off.

The moment his boots touched the sand, he squinted his eyes. It would only take a few seconds as he could see outside. Most of the racers had already left their tents. The ocean breeze would kick in as Neo had an entire scene of events. Behind him and away from the center of the beach was the great metropolis of Girinhi Kinshasha. The city encompassed the whole continent. Skyscrapers of various designs resided away from the coastline. Multiple ports were to his left that allowed fishing vessels to come and go. Not far in the ocean was one of the large space cruise liners. These interstellar ships could easily land and float on the water or take off and go to the next system. Vacationers would have the ability to watch the races that Neo would be a part of.

Away from the tents was the vast array of crowds. People from all over the colonies had come to see the great races. What had started off as questionably illegal street races in the great city had turned into a multi-billion mard industry. Racing had taken off as one of the many popular sports, if not, one of the more beloved. It became the soul of Oshun that helped prop its tourist industry as it was widely publicized. The UWA was watching. Needed now more than ever, the races would fulfill the almost destroyed morale of the population. Neo was fully aware of all of this.

A burgeoning smile filled his face as he started to make way towards the starting lines. He could make out the crowds. Many of them were the Oshunian people. Their dark complexions were symbolic of the former African colony, but there was so much more. People who descended from all the former nations of ancient Earth were there. Everyone had to see it as the music began to pick up. Speakers were playing a sort of steel drum, lute, and Chinese flute instrumental music. Occasionally, it would be followed with a dance synthesized rhythm that would come and go. It helped to establish the meaning and atmosphere.

“We want to welcome everyone to the great races of the Oshun-400,” the enthusiastic announcer called out. “This is the final qualifying race for those that wish to be a part of the Oshun-500 and the United Worlds’ Alliance Light Vehicle Races!”

There was cheering in the crowds as another racer was waking past the arranged rows of people. Neo recognized this individual immediately. The female racer had former Chinese features on her. She had red hair and crimson dyed eyebrows. The Martian woman had the best equipment as she was getting closer to her motorcycle. Brazen and outright obnoxious, he hated being around her. The crowds cheered the moment that they saw her face.

“Our first racer is nothing more than our grand champion of every race in the last nine Oshun-500 and UWALVR competitions,” the announcer continued. “Our famed and well known Meifen Lu!”

Meifen gave her arrogant smirk to the crowd. Men and women were almost tossing flowers in her direction. She would do her familiar nine-finger salute, almost holding up all her fingers to the crowd to let everyone know of how far she got. Her front teeth would be pressed over her lip when she did it. Neo knew that this woman was incredible in her skills as a racer. Even her bike was a beefed-up quad motorcycle. It had to be the only one of its design. Heavily modified, the vehicle had a series of red and gray stripes on it. In the center was a pod-like cockpit in which the driver could lay down on their stomach between the front and back set of tires. Her motorcycle was in the rear most section of the motorcycles.

Neo sighed as he continued his slow walk. He knew that he had a long way to go when it came to even win against the champions. Meifen alone was all but guaranteed to win, but maybe things would be different in this year of racing. If the rumors were true, then it would add a new hurdle in the UWALVR. Even now, his eyes could befall the various members of the crowd. He could see some of the new aliens. The Itreans were an adjustment at first but gained recognition amongst the populace. Most of the T’rintar clan consisted of the Yutilians, a subspecies of anthro reptilians. Their short stature consisted of various shades of green, yellow, or blue smooth scales. They stood at an average height of four feet and stood on digitigrade legs. They were the supposed decedents of dinosaurs and related to the velociraptors of ancient Earth. They had a series of feathers that protruded from their heads, arms, and long tails. In many aspects, they were very similar to human beings but were generally shorter and had pointy-like snouts. Each one wore a different set of clothing and styles that reflected the region that they either came from or part of the vicinity of here.

Many people had a curiosity towards them. All of these aliens were women, and for a good reason. It was the primary influencer in why they made an alliance with the UWA for a reason. Neo stopped thinking about it as he could see the next racer approach the starting line. He also already knew of this one. Oluchi was another racing veteran. He was a slightly older man with a dark complexion and short-cut black hair. He was the son of one of the great founders of all Oshun’s street races. While he was the grand champion for some time, Meifen had taken it. Regardless, this man never gave up. He would always win second place and would drive one of the more interesting racing bikes. His UBX-11 had been modified into a partial hoverbike design. The front portion of the gray and black frame carried the repulsorlift engine that kept it afloat over the pavement. The rear portion had a large wheel that connected with the pavement. Supposedly, it was a more traditional racing bike design that followed its lineage to former Earth. It wasn’t an enclosed pod-like the other racing bikes were, and the driver would sit slightly more upright as well.

“We welcome one of our other racing veterans to the match,” the announcer called out. “The great racer Oluchi Vander, son of the retired Ken Vander. This will be the racer’s final competition before his retirement. Everyone give a round of applause to him!”

Oluchi was not the man who seemed to stand with the crowds that much. He would give a short nod to everyone as they cheered him on. It seemed that most of the audience was used to him. He was never a prideful individual and always just let the actions do the talking. Regardless, the fact that this would be his final year made him take more notice towards the population. It was as if he wanted to ensure that he would remember it for the rest of his life. Neo knew that he still needed to sit down and talk with him before moving on to his other planned career.

By now, Neo had reached the main street and passed the set of lines. Many of the audience turned their heads to see him. He could hear a couple of women that were calling out his name.

“Neo!” a random woman called.

“Yeah, you go, man!” another person said.

Neo could see the enthusiasm. It felt a little bit comforting as he could see much of the crowd that lined the fenced edges of the road. He could see the scantily clad clothing that many of the women wore. Oshun was always known for its freedoms. Some of the women would stand topless as their breasts would hang freely. Men, women, children, and aliens were all present.

“And our final racer to join us for the competition is Neo Kekoa,” the announcer explained. “He is a UHN veteran and survivor of the Battle of Oshun. Runner up to reach the Oshun-500 and UWALVR championships. Everyone, give him a big hand!”

There was another cheer and round of applause from the crowds as they looked upon him. He continued to smile and wave at everyone as he walked into the streets. For a little bit, he tried not to let the over joyous crowd get to him. The glory of making it this far was something that he had to keep going with. Meifen would act like she was basking in the glory, but he wanted to be a little bit like Oluchi in time when it came to the people. He stopped thinking about it as he looked at his vehicle that was fourth in line for the six racing vehicles. It was there that he saw his parked motorcycle as it made him smile at it.

The UHN originally used the decommissioned Bandigara class motorbike. Designed for every sort of environment, they were used for reconnaissance duties and light support on the ground. It consisted of two wheels, one in the front and one in the back. The frame design consisted of a gyroscopic adjustable manifold, much like most of the bikes. The center of the pod was wide open for him to climb in. The pod itself could easily keep the driver sealed into a comfortable environment, even if there was no atmosphere outside. On the sides of the motorcycle consisted of two M18 machine guns that had been clearly deactivated and unloaded of any ammunition. Purposely, it always seems to make a few of the people point at it in the form of glee. The blue and red stripes lined the gray frame. Much like many of the vehicles of its design, many of these pod-like motorcycles were not that tall. This was mostly for the fact that the driver was lying inside them.

“Win at least fifth place, and we’ll be good for the rest, old gal,” Neo told his bike as he felt the apprehension of climbing into the pod. The man could feel the shock absorbers easily adjust to the additional weight applied to it. There was more than enough room for him to lay down on his stomach. The padding was mended and folded to hold his entire frame with ease. His eyes were attuned to a display board, with his arms and hands naturally upright to grip the small steering wheel. As his boots pressed the backpedals, he could see that he was entirely inside. He pressed a side button as the pod window closed, sealing him inside.

In the motorcycle, Neo turned his head up as he initiated the warmup sequence. He made sure that he was comfortable. Unlike many of the other motorcycles, having a body that laid flat in a pod meant that the cushioning had to be equally as comfortable. When he pressed the first startup, the electric engine’s battery activated. The small quantum computer core system turned on and showed a boot-up sequence. The display switched on as the front cameras of the bike fed into the screen. Technically, he would always be looking at a screen rather than the outside world. All initial checks showed up as green. The tiny speakers would allow him to hear the announcers and support checkpoint crews. A separate system in the audio did enable him to listen to the outside audience.

“So far ... so good,” Neo commented. He could see the camera feed as he looked ahead of the motorcycle. In front were the three other motorcycles positioned on opposite ends of the road. These all consisted of the DBX-600 line of motorcycles. These were similar to the Bandigara, but they had a larger hunchback to their pods. The entire frame had a slightly more v-shape to it and protruded a little bit over the wheel frame. They were adequately color-coded with shades of red, blue, and green. Neo only knew one of the racers that drove the green one. It was a man that he barely knew as Adrian Silf. However, the other two had been losing many of the matches but still served as a viable challenge. He tilted the camera a little bit as he could see that Oluchi had gotten comfortable on his UBX-11. The repulsorlifts would naturally jolt a little bit as his weight pressed onto it. However, Neo couldn’t see directly behind him, but he knew that Meifen was there with her bigger and beefier bike. Everyone had climbed into their respected vehicles.

“All the racers have climbed into their respected vehicles,” the announcer explained. “We have received the reports of all the checkups. All racers ... START YOUR ENGINES!”

This was the queue for everyone as Neo tapped the button for the next startup phase. The rear electric engine block activated as the main drive powered up. A very slight but pleasant hum could be heard as Neo felt in place. This was home. He was at perfect peace for the most part. All the vehicles’ engines had turned on as Meifen’s engines revved up and produced a rather deep hum that echoed into the crowd. Even in park, the thing could be loud as she was pressing the pedal for the crowd to enjoy.

“Showing off as she always does,” Neo quietly commented. He tried to do the same thing as he would press the pedal down a little bit to cheer on the crowd, hopefully. Unfortunately, the motorcycle was not as well designed to “show off” as hers. It was mostly not heard at all until Meifen let off the pedal a little bit. However, his augmented leg would still give a slight tingle that wasn’t as normal as expected.

“Come on, leg,” he said. “Just make it through this race, and I promise to fix you.” He felt a little more apprehension. The lack of feeling in his leg would make it a little harder to feel the accelerator pedal. He debated about switching the accelerator controls to the forward steering wheel triggers and knew that he might have to do it during the race itself.

Inside the pod, it was comfortable as Neo had one last look at the area. The great grand hotel was to his left as the beach was to his right. The rows of people were holding steady as they eagerly awaited the final call. A large aerial drone light array was situated near the starting line. It hovered in place as it began its countdown.

“I can do this...” Neo said to himself. “I can do this...”

The first light was red on the emitter. On cue, Neo pressed the button to mute all but essential announcements in the pod. This would be to help alleviate human auditory background noise that could be distracting. Even the announcer’s words would be silent for this race. The engines on all the motorcycles revved up even more. The second light was red as it slowly began to turn orange. The next light was yellow as it flashed.

Greenlight...

The music kicked in as all the cyclists slammed their feet on the gas pedal. Immediately, all the motorcycles began to take off. The music that erupted was a synthesized beat rhythm that reverberated in the interior of the pod. Neo almost held his breath as he could feel the sudden inertia, but most of it was suppressed by the heavy-duty cushioning that he rested into. He could hear the roar of the engines of all the motorcycles as they took off. The race had begun.

The lines on the paved road began to move at a faster and faster speed as Neo was watching the crowds become a wall in the clear straight path. All three of the forward motorcycles kept their ground, but Oluchi’s bike was gaining ground fast. Neo was always used to this. Oluchi’s motorcycle was smaller than the others and surprisingly light. Its acceleration curve was significantly better, but Neo’s Bandigara was nothing to laugh at either. The military always had access to good equipment, and their motorcycles were equally impressive.

For now, it was a straight road for over two kilometers. His speedometer showed that he was hitting speeds of around 100 kilometers per hour. For this region of the track, it was designed to be a straightforward section. As they all picked up speed, the sound of the gripping flex tires had picked up. They were passing by block after block of buildings. All the roads that led to them had been momentarily closed off to provide safety for the pedestrians. It helped let the racers know precisely where to go if they somehow had a memory lapse. Neo already had the layout and current location on the marked track on a tiny HUD of his display. They were reaching the halfway point before they would make the turn.

The buildings and ocean water were nothing but a blur to the racers. The familiar racing music was almost a dance piece to the crowds. It had the faint electronic drumbeat and rhythmic electro harmony to it. Despite Neo’s racer having a little bit of an extra acceleration curve than the three DBX-600s, they were in the way. Much as before, the race was about overtaking them. Almost on cue, the three racers in front seemed to join together in forming a natural roadblock. This had become a favored tactic in hopes of preventing the other rear racers from punching through and essentially winning the race entirely. The one catch, however, was that the left turn was coming ahead.

On cue, Neo naturally began to slow down slightly in anticipation of the turn. The Oshun street races were fun but somewhat challenging for newcomers. Even Neo was all too aware of this. The turns were nothing more than ninety degrees to even 180 degree turns on the blocks. There were no curves or rounded roads to allow one to keep their speed. Instead, this challenged the bike engines to their core. By now, however, every racer was more than qualified to handle the stress of such maneuvering. Neo didn’t even have to hit the brakes as the momentum took him to the turn. He tugged the steering wheel a little bit to the left as the pod-like centerfold began to rotate a little bit to the left. The entire weight naturally shifted as the front, and rear tires naturally leaned to the left. Almost in unison, the other racers were doing the same.

This was naturally the more dangerous of locations for pedestrians, but one that could warrant a pleasant view at the same time. The walls that kept the people in went deep close to the buildings. This would cause the lip of the sidewalk to become available if one wanted to hug the corner, but it was risky. The tires and shocks would hit this embankment, and there were the risks of hitting other obstacles along the way. Everyone knew the risks when it came to this form of racing. Money and encouraging the tourist industry seemed to be the most significant determining factor in the motivation for this sport regardless of the dangers. The other choice, in turn, was not to cut the corner and make the hard-ninety-degree turn. Almost as if on cue, the three front racers were taking the hard turn rather than risk it.

Neo almost anticipated this as he could feel the turn hit the vehicle. Naturally, the tires flexed and adjusted to the pavement with the weight change. He was trying to aim for the opening without having to hit the curve.

As the turn was being made, he could hear the roaring engine of Meifen’s racing bike. She was very close on his tail. For once, Neo wished he could step out of his pod and spit on her vehicle every time she did it. Unfortunately, he knew it would be the only opportunity he would be able to do it.

The wheels naturally tilted as the pod made its own adjustments. Separated by the gyroscopic manifold, the pod was free to tilt or hold the position as the entire motorcycle turned. There was even an option for Neo to shut this off if need be. By now, he was more than used to it as the motorcycle completed its turn.

“Straightaway,” Neo commented. This was the most considerable portion of the racetrack. It was virtually a long straightaway road. There would be nothing but buildings as his foot was hard-pressed on the accelerator pedal. He had managed to overtake the red bike, but the other two were still ahead of them. Behind him, he could hear the roaring engine of Meifen’s motorcycle. She was still glued to Neo’s rear as he would make slight adjustments in hopes of slowing her down. Meanwhile, Oluchi was starting to slip on through the new opening. His bike was far quieter and small enough to slip past through the first opening hole easily.

It was nothing but a match of pure acceleration. This was generally the most exciting part of the track. The lines on the road would become a blur. The cameras that were close to the road naturally fed through the display and the audiences’ feeds. Everyone could see him. The various luxury buildings, hotels, stores, and other sites had also started to fly by on both sides of the road.

In context, the sounds of the electric motors were actually tranquil, with only the sounds of the moving tires producing an actual volume. However, Neo was aware that there were still safety regulations in some cases. People wanted to hear the motorcycles, and it was required to add a device in the engine that actually produced a unique sound. It naturally produced the mild form of euphoria that they enjoyed. Even his Bandigara bike made a satisfying harmonic noise as the vehicle gained speed. The sound would naturally let the audience stay in tune with where these motorcycles were at whether they were coming or flying on by. Even with the roads clear of people, it served as a caution tag for anybody that might slip on through the walled-up lines. Each motorcycle was unique in its sound, with Meifen’s generating a deep, almost aggravated hum to it.