Pax Galactica - A Space Opera

Chapter 2 - All Parties Are Exactly The Same

Decker never had one moment of doubt. He knew it had been sabotage.

Decker checked his racer over and over again like a nervous habit. Everyone made fun of him for it. There was nothing wrong with that hoverpod. He had just finished checking all the AG modules before they started setting up for the race. It was pristine. A love letter to efficiency and performance. He was sexually excited by how well maintained his racer was.

So it couldn't have been mechanical error. And that didn't make sense anyway. The pod hadn't blown as a result of an increase in acceleration or from being jostled by someone ramming him. It just blew out of nowhere, for no good reason.

Unless, of course, someone had modified the pod but hidden their tracks. Set everything to run normally when tested but, upon the ignition of some trigger or other, to suddenly and catastrophically fail. That was the only explanation that fit all the evidence while contradicting none of it.

Whoever did that almost killed him. Not just in a ha-ha Deathrace way, but permanent irretrievable brain death. It was one thing for Decker to decide to risk his own life on his own skills, but this was completely different. He would not abide whoever did this trying to kill him, whether they were aware of what they were doing or not.

And by whoever, Decker of course meant Thane. Who else could it have been? He was in the garage right before the race but right after Decker's last round of maintenance. Plus the pod didn't blow until Decker had almost caught up to Thane.

And what was he doing in the garage in the first place? Since when did Thane maintain his own racer?

Decker was certain now.

Decker was filled with blind, incoherent rage. His rage was like a little baby and he spent all afternoon between the race and the party tenderly nursing the rage baby at his own bosom. He raised the rage like it was his own child, fed it obsessive thoughts, and it grew big and strong. His rage baby was now a full grown rage man, and he loomed 8-feet-tall behind Decker as he stalked around, distracted.

He was lost in his own mind, going through elaborate revenge scenarios, when M arrived at their agreed-upon meeting place.

Had he not been so distracted Decker might have taken note of how dressed up M was. He might have connected that to how important this evening was to her if he had really been on a roll. These insights would have served him well. Unfortunately for Decker his mind was elsewhere.

"Sam!" she said, half shouting, and only then he noticed she was there.

"Oh!" said Decker. "M. I didn't see you."

"I was standing right in front of you," said M, crossing her arms.

"I'm in another galaxy, I'm sorry," said Decker.

"I get it. That must have been scary what you went through during that race. I can't even imagine."

"Let's not worry about it," said Decker, "we have a mediocre party to attend."

"You charmer you," M deadpanned, taking his arm.

* * *

Decker and M arrived at the party late enough to not be early, but not so late as to be late.

When she saw what Decker was wearing M worried she might have been overdressed. However, as she suspected, it was Decker who was under-dressed.

The room was filled with dance music, being composed live by an AI musician. It incorporated communication implants so that the listener heard part of the song in their head, and part out loud. To someone without the appropriate brain implant it sound like disjointed noise. The composer floated around inside a pitch black sphere, appreciating everyone's appreciation of the music as it worked.