[RFC][Story]It's not the speed....

[Dartz]

Time to start tying things up without hitting LOTR sysndrome

Two more sections after this and we're done. Unless anyone has any contributions....

“They got him!”

Anika announced it with a fat grin accross her face. Sighs of relief rolled around the room, momentary congratulations being uttered between the Dorsai.

Situation resolved. Nobody dead. One serious injury. One teenaged android in need of a punch to the face. And an insurance mess.

She keyed open her comm. “Hey Jet, What’s happened?”

No answer.

An alarm chirped on one of the panels, sectors flashing up red on screen in front of her.

“Fire alert. 1 kilometre beyond point Charlie 10,” said one of the Dorsai, calmly. “Ventilation fans are at full power. Exhaust shafts are open to space. Injection shafts prioritising fire zone and evacuation passages..”

No real urgency. The fire was expected. Assets were already ready to roll. Situation now under control.

“Get a full response team onsite. Powder and inert suppressant,” ordered their commander.

“Already dispatched.”

Ford switched frequencies, then keyed open her mic.

“Jet. You have your radio on?”

No answer. She looked to Anika, ready to ask if there was

“It’s Jet. She’s down. It sounds bad.”

-------

Mackie stood alone..

“Is...... Is she dead?”

He didn’t even hear the answer. Mackie watched in a daze. He watched Lebia remind Kohran not to remove the cyber’s helmet, before hooking up a medical datalink. In places he could finally see what was under the armour, and he wished he couldn’t. Blood streamed from a bone-deep gash across her forehead.

The suppression team arrived driving an old Genaros Fire Service truck. It took minutes to smother the blazing wreck in powder. He went with his Sister in the back of the ambulance back to the main hall. He remembered the paramedics discussing the potential for the armour on her chest to interfere with CPR or defibrillation.

He was vaguely aware of everyone looking at him as his sister was readied for medevac. A gentle hand told him to stay behind rather than get in the way. The Camera crew were taking long, loving shots of the Tumbler.

He remembered yelling at someone that he didn’t wave it. Then who did? It wasn’t waved. Lebia confirmed that for him, but the rumour was already gone halfway across the ‘verse before the truth got it’s pants on.

Nothing but a stuck throttle. An old Detroit Diesel had done the same thing the day before thanks to a failed governor. Only the owner remembered it now. There was something perverse about that. The same failure, but consequences an order of magnitude different.

But it was obvious to the world who’s fault it really was. Security claimed his pass, but they couldn’t really ask him to leave since he lived there.They made him walk instead. Ford was far more concerned with Jet to bother with killing him.

He slipped through the crowds, trying to get to somewhere private. The old house up in the dome was a long way away.

Shinji was about. Mackie avoided him on purpose. He thought about diverting down to the Silky Doll, but he’d left his key on his bed - and didn’t really want to ask anyone else for theirs. He was stopped dead in his tracks by Nene.

She stood in front of him, staring right through him like he wasn’t even there.

Mackie barely had time to utter a word in his defense before Nene hauled back and punched him, a hard right cross, that laid him out on the floor. As he lay there dazed, everyone else looked at Nene in shock.

"...did she just do that, or am I going nuts?" Myk whispered to Jeph.

"No. She just clocked him one. Justified, I think. I think we now know under which circumstances she CAN be violent."

"...that was not the way Sylia taught you to be," Nene said, tears streaming down her face, before she turned, and walked through the crowd, back towards the hangar.

-------

The PA system chimed.

“Earlier today, there was an accident with a runaway car. The car was a Lamborghini Countach replica, modified and fitted with a gas turbine engine. As far as we know, it wasn’t handwaved. It didn’t awaken an AI or go berserk. The throttle stuck open and the driver couldn’t get it out of gear.

The driver of the runaway was rescued unharmed from the car.. He’s been banned from the event.”

It was obvious to all that Ford was painfully distracted by something. Those who looked at the schedule could guess what.

“We’ve had two serious injuries. One is in stable condition in the infirmary, another is being evacuated to an emergency care facility. We’ve had a dozen minor injuries, ranging from cuts and bruises, with the worst of them being a broken leg. Thankfully, we’ve had no fatalities.

I’d like to thank those who helped - and who offered to help. They kept an accident from becoming a disaster. That’s Lebia Maverick, Kohran Li, KJ DuPree. I’d like to thank the team from Asuka for arriving here so quickly. And everyone here for your patience and understanding.”

There was a pause, broken by a single deep breath.

“Okay. We all know how dangerous our hobby can be. Depending on where we grew up, we had Red Asphalt, or the Transport Accident Commission, or a dozen others to make sure we knew how dangerous our hobby is. It’s been called an Atavistic Endeavour by some. But still we drive.

So, for the time being, the event will continue. Today’s planned racing events have been cancelled, along with a number of others. Details are on the live timetable. I don’t know if there’ll be racing tomorrow, that’ll be decided by the committee tonight.

From now on, there’s a speed limit of 160kph. That’s a hundred miles an hour. If you’re caught breaking it, we take your con pass. This will be enforced.

Because of the damage, B-tunnel will remain closed for the rest of the weekend.

Anybody with insurance claims, direct them to the treasurer and the general secretary. They’ll sort them out with our insurance company. Anything else, you know where the email box is.”

Ford clicked the mic off, sat it back down in its holder, took a deep breath and waited. She waited all night.

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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?