| ||||||||
Days and weeks slipped away, awash in the vast river of meaningless unmarked time that swept over Hekshano. Jet grew older, and Kyotoshi was soon able to mark the younger Hekshanian's progress at flying. Although it clawed at him deep inside to see the kid have to take Stims to fly, he knew there really wasn't another choice. Jet was happy, probobly for the first time since the police had herded him away from the public spaceport and back into town almost a year ago. It was the smiles the Keintem wore that were Kyotoshi's proof of his happiness.
It plauged Kyotoshi at the same time though. He thought that perhaps if he had made Jet happy, he too would have been aliviated of some burden. However his shoulders if anything felt more heavy, more constrained. It was as if in trying to atone for his mistakes he'd only aquired more sins. He tore at himself trying to figure out what they were, where they came from. More importantly how to make them go away.
It was the day before Jet's first race. The races would take the young Hekshanian into the planet's upper atmosphere, where he would race through the mines planted there against other pilots. Kyotoshi didn't expect Keintem to win, nor did Kammi, nor did the kid himself. They did, however, pray he would survive. The fatality rate on the Races was enormous, but the turnout was always big. Ever since the spaceports had been closed and several mined, it was the only thing the Hekshanians had as a way of defying the Rulerists.
Kyotoshi sighed and watched the skies as the shining bolt of light that was Jet's plane dodged and twitched across the craggy mountainrange. The course they were using today for practice was Red Mountain- a popular hangout for pilots of any age. Keintem handled his craft expertly, considering what a hunk of junk it was. Then again, Kyotoshi reflected, all the mine planes are hunks of junk. It was true, of course. Clattering peices of hastily slapped together metal that could barely fly made up the normal mine racer's ship. This was one of the many reasons the pilots turned to Stims- to calm their nerves enough to control these psychotic ships.
Time was an issue here, though. The stims Jet had been taking lately to simulate actual race conditions were tricky at best. When they gave out, they gave out hard. The kid would collapse from them after around fifteen minutes- both from physical inimmunity and mental exhaustion. Kyotoshi bit back a growl every time it happened, silently cursing himself and Kammi for causeing all this. Jet wasn't the same as before- he was all pilot now. He was always playing, taking life as a joke, no matter how hard it struck him. Kyotoshi supposed this might have been good...but still...
The stopclock in Kyo's hand ticked dangerously, reminding him. He held the tiny communication set up to his ear and mouth and spoke into it loudly. Its condition was no better than that of the plane, and it was prone to sending bursts of static rather than words.
"Kid, get down here. You're almost up on time."
"Hey cool it! I'm okay!"
That was another side effect of the Stims- a distorted sense of time. Kyotoshi felt worry clawing at him and forced it back. This was nothing new. "Get yer ass down here. Or I'll get Kammi to drain yer plane's cells on race day."
"Ooooooohhhhhh you're gonna get Kammi to drain my cells, huh? hehehehe." Jet's voice was sprinkled with the fuzziness of static. Kyotoshi rolled his eyes at the younger Hekshanian's sense of humor, but couldn't help laughing.
"Just get down here, okay? Yer ready to crash."
"You're no fun! Alright, alright...here I come." The silver fleck that was Jet's plane broke away from the mountain and grew steadily larger as it approuched the mesa on which Kyotoshi stood. They had a trailer for the plane, a rickety old thing, hitched up to the back of Kyotoshi's parent's car. His parents were long dead...but he'd taken what he could that would help him survive. He disliked driving though. It was a danger to him and others.
The heat on the mesa blossomed to a nearly unbearable level as Keintem's little ship coasted in, slowly approuching. With a squealing sound of metal on metal, the young pilot meuvered the ship into the cradle of the trailer and powered down swiftly. Kyotoshi breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of the engines died. It was okay- Jet was back on the ground. The kid wasn't dead.
Ever since Jet had taken his first flight, Kyotoshi had found himself with a nearly pathalogical fear of the kid's death. Kammi had been right- he didn't have the power to mourn two people. He didn't have the power for two failures. With a surprisingly agile step, Kyotoshi climbed up onto the bed of the trailer and tapped on the glass of Jet's cockpit.
Jet, of course, did not respond. His head was leaning softly against his shoulder- against the leather of the stolen pilot's jacket from what seemed a long time ago. His eyes were shut softly and his breathing was even. He was asleep, unconcious- it was the same to Kyotoshi. Twisting his claws under the hood of the cockpit, he pried it open and leaned on it's edge, staring at Keintem as the kid slept. Kyotoshi lowered his ears and shook his head softly, knowing Jet couldn't hear him.
"Don't do stupid craika like that to me, kid...You dunno how important you are."
"C'mon Kyo! Get up! Get up!" Kyotoshi was vaugely aware of Jet's hyperactive voice far too close to his ear. He was also slightly aware of the fact that the younger Hekshanian was shaking him roughly in an effort to awaken him. Muttering under his breath, Kyotoshi wondered why Jet had to wake him up now...
The he remembered. The races were today, he thought. It wasn't a surprise that it'd almost slipped his mind- he'd tried the night before to wash all thoughts of Jet's possiable death from his mind. Now he only felt bleary and exhausted, and he knew within a few hours he would have the usual symptoms of a hangover as well to deal with. "Gerrofame, kid...Lemme go back to sleep.."
"Jez!" Jet laughed. Kyotoshi thought it was strange how he used the Human slang term...even after a year on Hekshano Jet's accent wasn't native. "You sleep more than anyone I know, Kyo! Get up already!"
Growling profanities he didn't mean under his breath, Kyotoshi dragged himself upwards and rubbed a paw through his hair. Of course he had to go to the race. He had to see if Jet would live or die...it was a matter of his existance now. He looked at the kid blearily- the kid upon whose life rested his own. If Kientem died in the races, the last of Kyotoshi would die too. Kammi had been right- he didn't have the power to mourn two people. He didn't have the energy anymore to keep going after their deaths.
"That's better!" Jet smiled broadly and jumped back, darting out of the room and across the rest of the apartment. From his limited view on his bed, Kyotoshi could see what could be torn apart had been, or at least it seemed that way. He guessed Jet had been looking for his jacket and Stims for the race. Because the kid was still charging around in only a pair of light green pants, Kyotoshi guessed he hadn't found them.
Stretching forward towards his toes with his hands, Kyotoshi still felt tired. His body wanted more sleep, more time to work the alcohol out of his system. But he had to see the race. At least he wouldn't have to drive- that privilage and danger was lifted from him and given to Kammi. Speaking of which... "Hey, Keini, is Kammi here yet?"
As if she had been waiting outside the door for her cue, Kammi burst into the apartment snarling curses and smoking a cigerette furiously. Her hair had grown long in the past months, and she kept it up in two unbrushed pigtails. The mechanic was just as ill tempered as ever, though. And it seemed, Kyotoshi thought with what seemed a prequal to the headaches that would be coming later today, that all her temper was directed at them.
"What the hell are you doin?!" Kammi's voice reached a range reserved mostly for her mechanics when they broke something particularly important. "Yer not even DRESSED yet? The race is in two hours! And what's with you, Kyo? Damnit man! You can't go get smashed the night before-"
"Cool it, Kammi," Kyotoshi muttered, smiling slightly and shaking his head. He'd slept in his cloths again, something that wasn't unusual to him. It didn't really matter anyway, he could always change again after the race. Assuming for him there would be an after...
"Yeah, chill out!" Jet ducked in from the kitchen and stood next to Kammi, leaning his elbow on her shoulder and smiling. Kyotoshi couldn't help but laugh at the younger Hekshanian. "Soooo anyway...Kammi..." Jet let his hand drape lazily down and tried to look suave. Kyotoshi nearly bit his finger off trying to keep from laughing. "Would you go out on a date with me once I win the-"
The sharp sound of a smack filled the small apartment and Kientem staggered backwards, a paw to his cheek. Kammi looked like she was about to destroy him quite effectively, her voice now something quite closer to a roar. Kyotoshi had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling over, his laughter nearly overpowering her shouts.
"YOU LOUSY LITTLE PERVERT! YOU'VE GOT A FUCKING RACE COMIN UP AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS GIRLS!" Jet only shrugged. "THAT'S IT!!"
With all the force of a runaway typhoon, Kammi grabbed Jet roughly by the wrist and dragged him out the door, still in only his pants. Kyotoshi, laughing, followed, stopping only long enough to snare Jet's jacket and stims from the coat pegs by the door- the place they'd been all the time. Kammi was determined to make it to the race on time, and not to have some rookie spoil it for her. Smiling softly to himself now, Kyotoshi thought how Kammi's temper seemed to be the only cure for his unease...so long as it wasn't directed at him.