THE RACE
The rays of the sun tubes through the ash cloud, a testimony to the growing day, which did not affect the busy traffic, both on-air and on land. It was difficult to see the morning sky from the numerous machines, with people from all corners of Anadan—who had come to witness this annual event. The familiar complaints of pilots stormed the busy atmosphere, they rained abuses on some of the passengers, who were popping out their heads from the window of the air shuttles.
Shimmers from the polished body of the cylindrical RCD-9 Hover bird, blended with the traffic neon signs. The bird swerved like a worm—it was mostly used to transport goods and containers. The elites in their private air bike and air Tripler were trying to maintain the trail, but the H-Board of the youths kept breaking the queue, making flight difficult as it was causing a lot of unwanted collisions.
"Hey look out" Jeff bit his lips when the bile threatened to surface. He watched the red jumpsuit boy meander swiftly, not pausing to apologies.
It was such a pity that the holiday had affected traffic warden. These new neon signs are barely maintaining the growing traffic. With the alarming increase of people from the five lineages—uniting together—one can hardly differentiate a normal day from a festive period like this.
The Heroes square was miles away from Jeff's home, but its tower was always farther than it appears. The magnificent spiral tower was the tallest in Anadan, its beauty many adored. The intricate gems it created as the rivulet rays of the yellow sun, cast its radiance on it, could make one stare until they grow necks like that of a giraffe. One feature of the tower was the statue of a fierce eagle clutching a huge snake on its claw. This statue surrounds the entire skyscraper, making it appear more of a castle than a tower.
At the apex of the tower was a white flag which bore a gold rhombus. Inscribed inside the rhombus were a gray hole, a red lightning bolt, a blue cross, and a silver arrow.
"What's wrong Jeff, why the sullen looks?" Matt asked when they landed gently on the front of the gate that reads: NO FLIGHT. GATE ONLY.
The gate was large enough to accommodate ten people abreast, but the crowd today made it look like a funnel with a narrow end.
"Is it about the race?" Matt asked again, but Jeff only spared him a glance from the corner of his eyes.
Their Head-Plate had folded with a clicking sound, into a small metal plate that covered their right ears.
"No," Jeff said smoothly and his brow broke with tinny lines. He could hardly get the image of that envelope off his memory. What is the content of that envelope, what does it mean? Why had it refused to open? Worst still, who had dropped it there? Maybe it's the wind. Fools thought that is impossible. It must be mum; she had rested on the window this morning. None of it made sense, why would someone send him an envelope if they didn't want him to uncover the content?
From the corner of his eyes, he saw Matt opened his mouth to say something, but closed it almost immediately. The silence was better. At least until he was sure nobody was paying attention to them.
They walked towards the gate. The shiny armor of keepers sparkled in the sun as they tried to maintain order in the fields of people. The holiday certainly did not affect the land garrison.
"Matt...hmm," Jeff swallowed. His eyes rummaged around the crowd, making sure that no one was paying attention.
"Something strange happened to me today, and I think my mom might be behind it."
It was the only explanation. Either way, the weight of his head became heavy with confusion, when he fed Matt with the incident that happened earlier that day.
"I doubt she has anything to do with it; it's probably a coincidence'' Matt said in a thoughtful tone when Jeff finished.
"But how can you explain her absence, she should have remained in the sitting room with you Matt." Jeff grumbled "Well, I think she purposely was avoiding me, who else could have dropped that envelope if not her?''
"Hmm... there are two sides to that, if she'd dropped the envelope, what about your glowing hands, was she responsible for that? You have to take it easy Jeff, I don't know what happened in your room, but believe me; your mom might have no hands in it. Besides, we didn't look for her to tell she wasn't somewhere around the house. We would figure this out later, for now, let's battle this task at hand."
The folds on Jeff's brow disappeared and he took a deep breath. Maybe it was because of his friend's hands—which was resting on his shoulders—or his words, it was difficult to tell.
Matt was right, they need to win this race, and he couldn't do that with a clustered mind. Allowing his friend to read the silent words, Jeff nodded his head and they both squeezed pass the crowd, into the Heroes square.
The Heroes square was so-called because of the legendary warriors who gave their lives to save the world from darkness. It was the central city, the citadel of authority. Myriad of building from the Might's hall to the South-pool hall, down to the tower itself, stretched into the horizon as far as the eyes can see. You can't count two cities in Anadan without counting the hero's city first.
The stadium for the race was filled to the brim with people. Every single seat has a screen attached to it like a table; it enables a proper view of the race. The racing field itself was covered with sands and anemometers poles standing at the interval, to show the number of laps. There were twenty-five poles in total.
Jeff and Matt in their gray jumpsuit stood in line with other racers. There were twenty-five racers in total, with five representatives from each clan.
There were the Zappers in their Red jumpsuit, the Olic's in their gold, the Candanian's in their Blue and the Ama's in their silver jumpsuit. Each color signifies the color of the power they exhibit, the power of the bow which embeds itself in the palms of all individuals, in exception of the Grays.
"This would be tough." Jeff was sweating under his oversize jumpsuit, even though the sun had not reached its peak.
"Not as tough as getting the head of a camel through the eye of a needle, try and succeed, relent and fail, remember that?"
Jeff frowned when he heard Matt. Those were his favorite lines when they were twelve and Matt had refused to use his H-Board. He had dragged the reluctant Matt into the field after saying those words for like a thousand times.
"I can't believe you still remember that" Jeff grouse.
"I can't see myself forgetting it, not after it changed my life for good.''
"Just keep it to yourself next time, okay?''
Matt laughed but Jeff wished he could brush off the laughter from his face. He sometimes wonders why people always make fun of serious matters. Serious matters? Well, not too serious, but, that's what some people do anyway.
"I welcome you all to the first day of this contest; to this year's entrance examination into the Heroes academy...."
"Who is that?" Jeff asked.
The man on the podium was like nothing he'd ever seen. His Araen accent was superb, pure and unrefined. Blond long hair was in a ponytail blending with the gold jumpsuit and cape that flowed gently behind. Hard cheek bones, clean shaved mustache in a body that towered almost above four feet from the marble floor.
"That's the new Selector of the academy, from the gold linage."
Jeff awed at the way the man carried his shoulders. His gentleness was simple but yet complicated. The way he paced the platform languidly with pride, it was as if the air were about him because his face bore no sweat of any kind, and his gold-color suit, seem to eat the color everyone here was wearing.
"...though our rule of picking the top five still holds," The man, known as the selector continued. "Our king," He bowed gently and the whole crowd did the same, out of habit than respect. "Has promised to award the top three; with a special prize."
There was a little commotion among the racers but it disappears almost immediately when the Selector continued.
"So, I urge our aspiring student to put up their best, you never can tell the glory that's on the other side of the finish line. As the fourth SP-90 selector, I declare the first race open. Let the candidates put on their Head-Plate and let the first race begin"
There was a loud shout from the crowd as all cheered for their racer.
Jeff gulped when his Head-Plate unfolded and covered his face. He wasn't used to the many crowds and he hates being in the center of attraction. Even amid the other racers, he felt alone.
The twenty-five racers stood on their hovering board, with face hidden behind their Head-Plate which had already converted into a helmet, even the visor was hell dark like the depth of an ocean.
The wonders of Head-Plate never cease to amaze Jeff. It could convert into a helmet by just clicking a button on it. It could also convert back into a small insignificant metal plate, that one could hardly comprehend how a small metal plate could turn into a helmet. Its audio voice recognition was magnificent. Dr. Jakins was the Tyrust of this age.
There was a loud feminine programmed voice heard as it counted down.
Jeff felt his heart beating fast like the engine of a land Tripler. From the corner of his eyes he saw Matt looking his direction, he could imagine the looks on Matt's handsome face, but he chose to remain neutral to any sense of thought. He wanted to focus on the task at hand. He wouldn't see his years of practice crumbed before him.
I will put on my best show. He whispered to himself, just as the programmed voice said zero.