With the news that Atari is separating from the company pretending to make a chain of hotels, I am compelled to ensure the Atari Hotels fanfiction “Storyworld” is preserved, and will outlive their grossly overproduced website.
Immerse yourself in the futuristic world of Syzygy - where the streets are a racetrack, the sidewalks are the stadium, and the hovercycle is king.
1
Everyone in Syzygy loves street racing. It all started when the hovercycle was announced. It didn’t take long before our streets became a stadium. Suddenly the floating walkways transformed into tracks, and our neon street lamps became finish lines. My first memory is almost getting run over by Anton Jones while buying an ice cream – I loved it. I mean it’s Anton blipping Jones!
Street racing was outlawed – the pioneers of the sport constantly getting arrested. Whenever I would see one of their wanted posters on my holophone, I would screenshot it and project it on my wall. Street racing was underground, it was dangerous, and it was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. Even though the corporations started cashing in on the subculture, street racing prevailed, and now it’s pretty much all we’re known for.
Our city is often compared to a coral reef: fluorescent, dense, layered, and swimming with life. But don’t let the glitz blind you. Sharks are always hiding in the shadows. Street racing still hasn’t fully escaped it’s mob roots. The only reason someone like Jones could make bail was the Jin. He was on their good side – as long as he threw a race or two.
Before the hovercycle, our city was actually pretty boring. As much as I love racing, those days were simpler. My parents were around, and my biggest worry in life was which video game to beat my younger sister Yaz in.
We grew up in the South Side. Now, that’s somewhere the sun don’t shine– literally. The city became a global stage when Tesla built a massive arena that floats above our neighborhood. Nobody could sell their house, and my hometown slowly turned into a loosely connected base for the Jin.
As a kid, I would stare up at the arena and pretend the small neon advertisements were stars –wishing that one day I would be able to race there. It’s all I’ve ever wanted really. The qualifying race is in two days, and I’m going to win.
Tesla Arena here I come.
2
Yaz and I picked up dinner at the Korean place down the street. We were running low on credits, but we’re still ok. I really need to win tomorrow though.
Our unit wasn’t like the ones you find in those fancy towers downtown, but it was enough for us and we’ve made a lot of good memories here. As long as I keep winning races it’s home.
The night before a race, Yaz usually chatted my ear off about the bike, who we were racing against the next day, weather patterns, wind velocity. If there was something I needed to watch out for, she had it covered. Most of it went in one ear and out the other if I’m being honest. I just strapped in and let instinct take over.
But tonight, she was strangely quiet.
Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but I did. That’s what it’s like when you’re two minds who think like one.
“What’s going on?” I said as she scooped a smaller-than-usual of bibimbap on her plate.
The question startled her. Like I’d snapped her out of a dream. And not a good one.
“Huh? Nothing.”
“This is your favorite meal. And there’s a race tomorrow. Usually I can’t shut you up –”
“Look, I just have a bad feeling…”
I pressed her for more information, but I don’t think even she knew what was bothering her.
“I don’t know why, but I can’t shake this…never mind. You know, I shouldn’t be messing with your head before a race.”
Her voice trailed off and we ate the rest of the meal in strained silence. Later that night I tried to relax and get some sleep. Always seems impossible the night before a race. Yaz’s bed was only a few feet from mine, and even in the pitch black apartment, I could see she was still awake. If Yaz was worried about me, she never spoke it. Usually, she just took care of every possible problem before it happened and that was how she dealt. But now…maybe this is something.
3
CLANK! A loud mechanical thud jolted me out of my sleep. My excitement kept me up late, so this was the last thing I needed… Especially on race day.
I tapped on my window, taking it off tint-mode. Yaz was standing panicked in the street next to my bike – which had fallen over! “YAZ!” … She couldn’t hear me through our soundproof windows. I thought she was supposed to be the best mechanic in the entire city, but she tips my bike over?
I threw on my uniform and took the pneumatic tube down to the street. A flurry of profuse apologies and excuses came out of Yaz’s mouth. But there was no use in yelling at her. She already felt bad enough.
“My shoe got caught in the capacitor, and I almost–” I cut her off.
“What can we do about this?”
Yaz and I quietly walked over to Mr Nakamura’s shop – I’ve never met anyone who knew more about racing than that old man. As I pushed my bike down the street, I noticed that a small joystick had been installed on the console. “Can I play videogames on this thing now?”
“It’s a booster… I haven’t tested it yet.” Yaz was still quieter than she usually was.
“Mr. Nakamura!” Yaz’s quiet spell didn’t last too long. Nakamura was lying on his back under a bike. The small hoverboard he was resting on shot out from under the hovercycle and launched him on to his feet! Pretty spry for a 70 year old.
“Yaz! What brings you here?”
I interjected, “We need a capacitor.”
“A capacitor… do you have the credits for that?” I didn’t. But I knew I would after my race today. I’d have enough credits for all the capacitors in his rinkadink shop.
“If Aurora wins today, she’ll qualify to race in Tesla Arena,” bragged Yaz. Nakamura seemed impressed, but tried to keep his cool.
“Last time someone came to this shop before a stadium race was Kawai Hopper.” Such a name dropper… But he’s always supported young racers. I never understood why someone like him never raced himself.
Nakamura handed Yaz a capacitor, “My investment… in the both of you.” He looked at me. I looked back at the old man. I wasn’t going to let him down. I watched Yaz crank the capacitor into place – my hovercycle lifted off the concrete. It was officially race day.
4
When Yaz and I pulled up to the race line, I started to realize how tough this was going to be.
Usually, you see a few big names at a race with a decent purse. Three, maybe four. Not today. These are the best racers in Syzygy. Guys I’d just barely beaten, and the ones who left me in the dust. All here. All ready to win.
I found us a spot to get ready and had barely turned the engine off before Yaz was fiddling with the shiny new tech she’d installed – figuring out if it would rocket me past the finish line or shoot me out into the atmosphere.
I saw Sway walking our way, decked out in his neon jumpsuit like always. He was a rabbit, always going after a big lead, making you burn fuel just to keep pace.
Ryland Costa was right behind him. His bike was overly mechanical and heavy. If he was hit by a truck, I’m not even sure his bike would flip over.
2600 was getting ready too. He was one of those robots that got cast out after they were replaced by a newer model. Now he races for his own parts.
Wait is that…? It couldn’t be– Angie. She’s a legend, as tough as she is pretty. I’ve seen her bury plenty of guys who were too busy checking her out to notice she’d blown right by them on the track.
So many top racers. Each one a killer.
As I scanned the crowd, trying to look tough, I thought about their stories, how they got here. To Syzygy. To this race. My mind drifted. Stay focused Aurora.
Yaz was all business. The capacitor from Nakamura seems to have taken her mind off whatever bad premonitions she was having. She snapped me back into reality.
“Listen up,” she said in her usual no-nonsense way, “The booster’s going to work. If you fall back, burn it and hold on with everything you’ve got.”
She flipped the visor down on my helmet.
“Time to press start – don’t die”
5
Out of the dark, the headlights shot at me like bullets. I weaved my motorcycle through the hovercars as they came hurtling in my direction. As I emerged from the tunnel in central Syzygy, a dizzying onslaught of neon obscured my sight.
As my vision sharpened, so did the edges of the huge screens that glimmered atop the skyline. A blast of wind coming from my right side threw my ponytail across my shoulder. It was Ryland Costa – blip!
I trailed Ryland’s motorcycle as he bombed down the glossy black street. The explosive roar of his engine caused a businessman waiting at the intersection to fumble his holophone. Ryland always lacked precision, brute forcing his way to the finish line of every race.
He needs the open stretches, but I can take him on the turns. I cut the apex, slicing sharply through the small space between two skyscrapers, emerging with Ryland in my sights.
When I glanced down at my monitor, I couldn’t see any racers behind me. It was just me and Ryland. I tracked my eyes to the joystick Yaz installed in the center console of my bike. “BE CAREFUL” was carved into the side.
I was gaining on Ryland but running out of time. As I drifted onto Gravitar Street, I knew my chances at victory were slim. He was shooting towards the finish line like a laser– the crowd cheering on either side of him.
In moments like these, it’s as if time stops, the screams of the crowd sound like muffled wind. The only thing I feel is the hum of my engine and the road beneath me. Just me and my bike. I smashed the button on top of my joystick and gunned the engine. The bike was like a rocket– the G force pulling on my face.
My vision started vignetting. Many would have lost consciousness, but for those of us who love the speed, this is what racing is all about. I was gaining on Ryland– 267mph– and all that mattered were the inches that separated us. I tucked my body tightly to the bike, pressing my joystick down with all my might. In that final moment, I felt myself slice through the light of the holographic finish line– the crowd roared.
I was going to Tesla Arena.
6
When I pulled back on the joystick, my bike came to a screeching halt, skidding across the pavement. If I had stopped a second later, I would have crashed into the crowd. As Ryland’s bike was winding down, he slammed his helmet to the ground.
A few moments later, the rest of the racers turned the corner. An irregular flurry of zips and zooms broke through the holographic finish line. In third was Angie, then 2600, and then I think the next to cross was Sway? It was hard to tell.
Yaz ran in my direction, smothering me in a hug. Over my shoulder she said, “You shouldn’t have cut through those buildings!” I responded with the obvious, “I had to.” Yaz hesitated, “You can’t win if you’re dead, Aurora.” She had a point. “I knew the bike could make the turn, you’re my mechanic!”
I knew that Ryland was a sore loser, but I couldn’t resist going over and shaking his hand. As I approached him, I noticed that he was talking to a couple members of the Jin. Not really talking with them; he was being talked at…
A stocky mobster was resting the sole of his boot on Ryland’s helmet. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t look good. The mobster pushed his mechanical leg down– denting the helmet– and walked away.
As I got close to Ryland, I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted with “How do you just keep winning?”
I looked over at my sister, “You just gotta have a secret weapon.” Ryland looked away and drove off.
7
Yaz and I went to the Korean place to celebrate. The robo-waitress brought us our usual order– bibimbap. “You know the reason I spend so much time working on your bike?” Yaz asked. To me the answer was obvious, “So we can have money for bibimbap?”
“No… Because if you turned the corner and your bike skidded out from under you, it would be my fault.” I stopped stuffing my face. “Well, know that if I crash, it’ll be my fault then!” I laughed, but Yaz didn’t. I reassured her, “I’ll be more careful next time…”
Yaz and I waltzed out of the restaurant with the confidence of gunslingers– our stomachs full. When we peered down the block, we saw that Nakamura’s shop was closed. It would have been nice to give him the good news, but I sometimes forget how old he is…
A boy in a toy hoverbike helmet raced up to me and Yaz. “Are you… are you,” he was clearly out of breath, “Aurora?” The boy shoved his holophone in Yaz’s direction, and we took a picture together. Yaz didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that she wasn’t in the photo. She never really liked public attention. The solitude of her workshop is what drives her.
8
I was lying in my bed and started thinking about what Yaz said at the restaurant. Maybe she was right? I shouldn’t be so reckless. Is Tesla Arena worth giving my life for? Hmm. Probably.
As I was drifting off, I thought I heard my window go into tint mode… But it was too distant– could be coming from Yaz’s room? The tint-mode sounds kept repeating. On off, on off, on off… It was kind of relaxing.
The relaxing melody was interrupted by a loud SCREAM followed by the sound of shattering glass!
9
I scrambled into Yaz’s room. Her window was shattered, and she was nowhere to be found. Glass shards were scattered around a row of large bootprints. Tears ran into the back of my throat, and instinct took over.
I heard footprints coming from above– they were on the rooftop! I hopped down the pneumatic tube, took to the street, and got on my bike. I looked up, and Yaz was tied down to a hoverbike that was jumping from rooftop to rooftop. The shadowy figure driving the bike was being silhouetted by the multicolored billboards. I bombed down the empty streets, following my sister.
I broke my line of sight to look down at the joystick– “BE CAREFUL” throwing my bike into full throttle. I forgot my helmet. The wind was blinding. At this speed, even a fly would hit my skull like a bullet. But I had to keep my eyes open. I couldn’t lose Yaz.
I turned onto one of the floating walkways, accelerating up the incline. As I approached the top step, I tucked myself into my bike and sailed into the air towards the rooftops. My body jackknifed as my bike slowly fell out from under me.
SLAM– the hoverbike briefly collided with the concrete rooftop before re-calibrating, but I landed squarely on my seat. I powered through the spinal pain from the impact. Yaz was in my sights.
10
The wind and tears obscured my vision into a pool of fluorescent colors. I felt like I was falling down a kaleidoscopic wormhole to hell. Billboards raced by me one after the other, but I wasn’t getting any closer to Yaz. Actually… my bike was slowing down.
I tried to push the joystick forward, but it was already at maximum capacity. I looked down and saw that the entire underside of my bike had dented in! My hoverbike sputtered to a halt, and the black dot that was Yaz and the mysterious figure got smaller and smaller, shrinking into the sea of lights.
I dismounted my bike and sprinted after them– choking on my tears and trying to squint my vision back to normal. I couldn’t see them, but I still had to keep running. I couldn’t stop.
Even though I was running, in the back of my mind, I knew it was aimless. I knew I had lost them. I knew I had lost Yaz.
11
The police station was oddly industrial and felt out of place with the rest of the city. I guess tourists don’t come here, so it doesn’t matter. The last time I was at the station was after the accident with my parents. The air was so stagnant in the waiting room that it was probably unchanged from my childhood.
“Aurora?” I followed one of the cops into an interrogation room. A monotonous train of procedural questions came out of the officer’s mouth. I answered all of them truthfully, but intrusive thoughts of Yaz persisted. I must have looked glazed over because the officer offered me a glass of water to calm my nerves.
Days came and went. The police scanned the boot print in Yaz’s room but couldn’t find a match. I couldn’t even go in there to repair the window– Nakamura fixed it for me. He fixed my hovercycle too, but I couldn’t think of racing. It just seemed empty. Tesla Arena seemed empty.
12
I don’t have much of an appetite, but I’ve been getting my food from the diner next to the Korean place. Last night while I was eating, that kid in the toy racing helmet came up to me. He wanted to tell me that he got his first hovercycle or something like that. I must have snapped at him because he ran away crying. I don’t even know.
When I tried entering the Kebab shop for some breakfast, my face slammed into the forcefield: “LOW CREDIT BALANCE.” Blip… My race at Tesla Arena was still a few months off. I needed money. Do I even want to do it without Yaz? Can I do it without Yaz?
Racing never felt more like a job than it did that night. I pulled up to the starting line, right next to Ryland. It all felt very mechanical– like I was just going through the motions. The headrush from the speed felt more like a headache. “BE CAREFUL.” Who cares?
I was in the lead– of course– but as I was going down the home stretch, Ryland surpassed me with a speed I’ve never seen come from his bike! “COSTA WINS!” And the crowd went wild… At least I’ll get the runner up prize money.
The Jin slipped Ryland his usual kickback before I walked up to him. “Want some advice Aurora?” I didn’t respond. “You just gotta have a secret weapon.” He laughed in my face.
I would have spit in his face if I didn’t still have my visor down. As I took off my helmet, I noticed that Ryland had a small joystick installed in the center of his console… Like the one Yaz made for me.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked. “Why would I tell you– so can beat me again?! This is a new era Aurora…”
“No,” I whipped my bike around to show him the console, “My sister made this for me.” Ryland looked down. It was identical to the booster on his console. “Well, maybe your sister is trying to make a little money on the side…” He started walking away– dented helmet in hand.
I charged him yelling, “She’s been missing for months!” Costa stopped. When I shoved him, he remained steady like a brick. Something clicked in Ryland’s head. I couldn’t tell what it was, but I knew that he was hiding something. I gripped his leather jacket– “Where’d you get it Costa?”
13
I had never seen a man with so many tattoos look so scared. He pulled me in close. Close enough so that we could talk under our breath.
“It’s the Jin,” he said, “they gave me the booster.” I looked down. It was identical to the one in Yaz’s room…“These are not people you want to mess with Aurora.”
“You’ve seemed to mess with them your entire career–”
“–and I wish I hadn’t!”
“She’s my sister.” I can’t take on the Jin by myself. I flipped my visor down and ripped it over of the precinct.
I showed the cops the images on my holophone, but they kept telling me that Yaz was probably dead, that they did their investigation already, and that I should move on– bureaucratic talk.
They offered me some water because I was in a frenzy. The more I tried to explain that it was the Jin, the more they acted like I was crazy, “You have no proof that your sister made that booster device you saw.”
I snapped, “I can handle it– you’re the ones not doing your jobs!” My yelling rang out. The precinct was quiet. I couldn’t stand everyone staring at me with pity in their eyes. These cops were useless when my parents died, and they’re useless now.
I crushed the cup of water under my boot and stormed out. I hopped back on my bike and just drove– fast. What was I going to do? I sped up. My visor was fogging up from my heavy breathing, but I didn’t care. I just kept going. I should have protected Yaz. My vision started to go because of the speed, but I didn’t slow down.
DING– a message from an anonymous number popped up on the heads-up display in my visor. Through a haze of warm breath I read, “Ventilation Center rooftop 7:00PM.” I stopped.
14
Growing up, everyone knew never to go to the Ventilation Center. When I was in middle school, a kid in my class went there to buy some illegal video games, but he never came back. Coolant runs throughout the entire city to make sure none of the tech overheats, and the Ventilation Center is where it all vents out, leaving the entire area covered in a thick haze.
The bright colors of the city slowly desaturated into a white cloud the further I ventured into the center. It was hard to hear anything under the loud rumblings of the fans, but the occasional sharp noise would send me into shock.
Like a beacon out at sea, I saw the red light of a holophone in the distance. I felt like I was walking through a dream, being magnetically pulled towards the light. But, what if Ryland told the Jin that I’m on to them? The holophone could be like the light of an angler fish– luring me into a pair of deadly jaws.
15
As the light grew bigger, I began to make out the silhouette of a man, “Aurora?”
“Yes,” I didn’t hesitate. I shined the light of my holophone in his face. He squinted “Agh, I’m Officer Matthews– I was at the station.” Not one of these guys again… I sighed and turned around.
“Wait! There’s something you need to know– I’ve been looking into your sister’s kidnapping!”
“And, yeah? You’ve found nothing!” I replied. “It’s the Jin– they have the entire force in their pocket…”
“And why are you telling me this?” He hesitated, “… Because I want to help you.”
I guess they weren’t all bad… Matthews tapped his holophone to mine, marking a location on my GPS, “She’s here.”
“Why are they doing this?” I asked. Matthews had no idea. He disappeared into the fog after telling me that this was all he knew. I looked at the location he marked on my map. She was being held on the Upper North Side?
The UNS is the most affluent area of town. I thought the Jin only operated out of the South Side – this must be some high level stuff. I can’t even get through the forcefield leading to the Upper North Side without enough credits though. Blip.
16
As I drove to Nakamura’s shop, I looked up at Tesla Arena– and then above the stadium to the Upper North Side. I always figured it was so expensive up there because you can watch the races from your house– permanent front row seats.
“Nakamura! I need all the credits you have.” The old man laughed, choking on his ramen, “I haven’t seen you this energetic in a while.”
“Now. Yaz is being held on the UNS, and I need to get up there!” Nakamura stared at me… “Do you know how many credits you need to pass through that forcefield?” I didn’t know.
Nakamura continued, “It’s more than I’ve made in my lifetime.”
“Anything would help…” my breathing picked up. We sat in silence for a second. “If you need money for food, you don’t have to be embarrassed–”
“–I don’t need food! I need money to get my sister!” I tried not to cry in front of the old man, but I couldn’t help myself. I think he could tell that I was being sincere.
“If Yaz is where you say she is… I’ll help you.”
17
Nakamura fiddled with the parts on the underside of my bike, “I just fixed this thing,” a loud electrical hiss came out of my hovercycle, “and now I’m breaking it!”
He let out a grunt as he pulled a small silicon part off of my bike. My hovercycle shot upward! BANG– it rammed into the ceiling. Loose concrete flakes snowed down on Nakamura’s face. I helped the coughing old man to his feet.
“Agh, I just got rid of the regulator,” he handed me the part. So much for my bike being street legal. Hovercycles are only supposed to go a maximum of six inches off the ground, but if I’m going to get up to the UNS, I’m gonna need some height. Nakamura said, “If you try going through the entrance, they’ll know you’re coming– doesn’t matter how many credits you have.”
“So, can I just fly up there now?” He laughed, “no.” Apparently the forcefield around the UNS isn’t just around the entrance– but the entire island!
I’m going to need to launch myself up to the UNS and somehow disable the forcefield at just the right moment to let myself pass through. Forcefields aren’t just something you can just break through though. Since they’re translucent, there’s a cautionary tongue twister we learn as kids, “Brute forcing through a forcefield leaves you with a broken forehead.”
18
The only people who can get through are government officials… so I messaged Matthews. I made my way through the haze of the Ventilation Center and found him on his holophone.
“So you really want to help?” He responded, “Haven’t I helped enough already?“
“I’m going to need you to disable a segment of the UNS forcefield for me.” He was shocked, “I can’t do that– you know I’d need a warrant?”
“Not for long, just three seconds tops.” Matthews thought for a moment. “I can’t…”
“This is my only option,” Matthews stared at me, “to save my sister…”
“Maybe you are just like the rest of the cops. Not necessarily bad, but just paralyzed by fear. Fear of the Jin, fear of speaking up. You’re willing to help, just as long as you don’t have to do anything.”
Matthews interjected “–I just… I can’t.”
“My sister always told me to be careful, but sometimes you have to risk your life to win the race. If good people like you do nothing – that’s how they win!”
Matthews thought to himself for a moment, “When do you need it deactivated?”
19
People always say that “The City never powers down” – always tourists bumbling around and hovercycles zipping down the streets. But right now, at 4:08AM, it seems pretty quiet to me. Probably some slogan the tourism department came up with.
Matthews should be at the precinct right now… I hope. Nakamura plonked a reinforced helmet on my head. Can’t flip the visor up on this one – it feels it belongs to a fighter pilot.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Aurora?” I looked up at the UNS, “Yes.” We had already broken onto the roof of tallest building we could near the forcefield sector. No turning back now.
Nakamura lugged a massive battery up here that he hooked my hovercycle up to. Usually my bike was silent, but when he touched the jumper cables to my bike, it sounded more like Ryland’s.
4:09. Matthews is going to disable the forcefield at 4:10. “Matthews, can you hear me?” I said into my holophone. He copied.
“Let’s go…” Nakamura stared at me for a second, as if he thought I was going to change my mind – but I just stared back at him. He took a breath and dialed up the battery to the max. I could feel my bike shaking underneath me.
20
I lifted a few inches off the ground, “Alright Aurora, I’m going to need you to–” but before Nakamura finished his sentence – I SHOT into the air!
Blip, my bike was still attached to the jumper cables! The cables unfurled like a whip and anchored my bike to the battery. The jumpers stretched like a rubber band and SNAPPED. I tumbled upward like an out-of-control bottle rocket – the two live wires trailing behind me like a parasite that could kill me at any moment.
4:10. Matthews deactivated the forcefield, but it was too early – or I was too late because of those cables. I saw the small hole slowly shrink as I got closer to the UNS. I’m usually used to the speed, but I could feel myself drifting out of consciousness.
I saw the hole close up… right as I was flying towards it. At my speed, hitting the forcefield will be like slamming into concrete.
The loud warning beeps coming off my hovercycle jolted me into full awareness. I wish I had stayed unconscious – at least I could die in my sleep. My bike flipped around, flying upward with the torque of a violent storm.
ZAP – one of the wires hit the forcefield! The ENTIRE shield glitched, going in and out of activation. I breezed right through! But I was slowing down? The force field activated right as the bottom of my bike was going through – slicing the bottom off!
I unclipped myself from the bike and began floating to the UNS. Up to Yaz. I looked down at Tesla Arena – it had never seemed so inconsequential.
As I passed into the UNS, I was able to latch onto a small pipe, snapping my wrist back and whipping me against the side of the island. With one arm, the climb was slow, but I finally made my way to the top.