The first time I saw the Runners was when I stumbled across an uploaded video, one of Golden Boy’s. It had filtered out to the normal nets, one of those flashy things that everyone drools over for about an hour before moving on. It was a bit different for me. I was enthralled, had to see more. It was… exciting and hinted at depths of the game, of the politics and styles and details. I had to know what I could.
I dug through the comments, followed links and directions to the other nets, the ones dedicated to Runs. There weren’t any clients then, everything had to be done manually. I messed around, barely understanding what I was doing, but I got in.
It was a whole new world! I drank in the details, trawled wikis. The amount of sleep I got pushed lower and lower. As I got more knowledgeable, I hunted for discussion. I never really contributed much, but I read and read. It was on one of these discussion forums that I met Vy, in the middle of a passionate argument about where Admins should factor in on-camera.
Six months later, I’d moved to her city, just to see the Runs. We’d camp out on rooftops, tease details out of the uploaded videos, trying to figure out where they’d go next. Every Run we managed to catch, they’d blaze past us, there for only a few seconds. Each and every time was burned in my memory, every step and twist.
My favourite memory was the bridge Run. We climbed our way on top of a support strut an hour before the Run was due to start. I still have no idea how Vy convinced me to do it. We counted the Runners as they came in, ticking them off a list we’d scrounged up, sharing theories over some self-warming curry. All the Westerners of the time were there, lined up on the bridge end, laughing and joking amongst themselves.
As the start time drew closer, they calmed down, became serious. The start line was drawn up. When all the Runners moved into their positions, I could barely do any more than stare. All the different colours and choices, all down to this one moment.
Then they started and I lost the ability to breathe.
I can’t even remember who won, but I remember when White vaulted over a car to land on Herald’s shoulders, spring-boarding ahead. When Junk grabbed Tower’s hand and flicked him under Var, his long time rival. When Var recovered, only to lose his footing near a puddle and take out Tower. Every moment in as much clarity as I could manage.
It was the next day when I asked Vy how I could become a Runner. She laughed me off.
When we went to the next Run, I asked again.
And the Run after that.
And the Run after that.
It took six tries before she relented. She knew someone, she said. The surgery wasn’t illegal, but it was elective and thus expensive. The cost of two sets of limbs in addition drove the price up to a level that would basically bankrupt me. I was okay with that, but the she knew someone, a Dr. Adam, who’d do it for less, in exchange for a cut of the video profits. He required an interview before he would operate, but he had been vetted by a few people who’d chosen surgery with him.
– – –
Dr. Adam was surprisingly young for his doctorate. His first questions were pretty standard, questions about health, financial situation. His last few questions were different, though.
“Why do you want to be a Runner?”
“Because it’s beautiful. The speed, the people, the community. Everything just clicks. Watching the Runs is exciting. I need to know what being in them is like.”
He nodded and wrote a couple of notes.
“What’s your plan for monetisation?”
I hefted a set of paper, plans Vy had drawn up. I flicked open the first page, but Dr. Adam interrupted.
“Ah, that’s okay. It’s important that you have one.” He flicked through his notes. “Okay. You’re accepted. I’ll book you in.”
– – –
The clinic was uncomfortable. The nurse that had greeted me had vanished somewhere out the back. The computer under the desk was the only noise, buzzing away. Pristine and stark, there wasn’t anything around to draw the eye and distract my thoughts, so they were chasing themselves in circles. I was determined enough that I wasn’t going to leave, but it was a big step.
Today was the day I was having my arms and legs replaced.
– – –
The six weeks my joints had taken to heal properly had passed in a haze of painkillers, bad television and worse food. The doctor checked in on me twice a day and Vy had called in once or twice, but she had things to do. I spent a lot of my time sleeping.
When I was finally ready, I was lifted out of bed by nurses and settled down in a hammock chair. The doctor checked all of my joints one last time, humming slightly off tune. When he seemed satisfied, they brought out my limbs. Spindly and grey, they showcased the absolute minimum that was required. They barely looked capable of lifting me.
The nurses lifted the left leg and removed the cap on the end, exposing the standardised connectors. The cap on my left hip was also removed, and they positioned the leg, before clicking it in. It was heavy, but it didn’t hurt at all, which surprised me. One of the nurses flicked a switch near the top, and the leg came to life. I couldn’t feel it, but I could feel the difference when it started to support it’s own weight, stopped dragging on my muscles. The nurse took a couple of steps back and Dr. Adam told me to move.
It wasn’t like moving my old legs. It wasn’t as responsive and it weighed more. I scuffed the foot in frustration and realised immediately why the nurse had moved back.
The power.
The leg pushed the ground and what was a brief contact sent the whole hammock swinging wildly. I was stunned, but quickly broke into laughter. It was like being a kid! I didn’t understand what I could do, what I was capable of. As the nurses caught me and slowed me down, the doctor set about warning me.
“More power means you can learn to use them a lot faster, but it’s dangerous. I’d be happier if you didn’t break my surgery.”
“Okay.” I replied. “It’s fun, though!”
He grunted. The nurses were fitting the other leg now, so I tucked the first one under.
“Can I walk now?” I asked Dr. Adam.
“Not until we’ve got your arms fitted.”
That process felt like it took longer than the time it had taken to heal. The arms were easier to get used to, provided I didn’t try to grab anything gently. A nurse strapped padding to his arm and reached down to give me a prop up. I clambered out of the hammock, the click-click of the feet surprising me, even though I knew they shouldn’t sound like flesh.
My first couple of steps were wobbly and I had to lean on the nurse, but I could stagger around. It was weird focusing on anything further away than the TV screen had been. My eyes weren’t used to it and everything was kinda out of focus. I reached the end of the corridor, though and managed the turn. The nurse was congratulating and shepherding me every step, but I wasn’t really paying attention, too caught up in the feeling.
When we reached the hammock again, I was exhausted. I flopped into the chair, eyes closing. By the time the nurses had removed the limbs, I was asleep.
– – –
I lifted open the box. Sitting inside in moulded foam were two gleaming arms, a black set with blue highlights down the edges. The silver workings inside were only hinted at, covered in mainly shadows. They were beautiful.
“Vy. These are perfect.” Vy was leaning on the case containing the legs. She grinned.
“Well, you ordered them. You better like them.” She replied. “Shall we get you fitted?”
When my new limbs were on, we went downstairs. Dr Adam had a circuit set up, with obstacles and jumps. I wanted to try out my new gear and Vy wanted to see me crash.
Oh, that reminds me.
I strapped on a helmet as we stepped through the door onto the course. It was dark grey cement everywhere, white lines showing paths and the starting area. I stepped into the starting area, and faced forwards. There was a screen on the far wall, red digits showing a 0:00. Vy dropped a hand on my shoulder, gave me a bit of a shove.
“Go get ’em, Zis.”
I leaned down as Vy stepped back out of the circuit. A tone echoed out, followed by another. When the third came, I started to run. It was slow to start with, but I started running faster and faster. I hadn’t realised the difference, how much my limitations had been pushed back. I stood up higher, moved faster. My steps thudded into the ground, blurring into a single sound.
I vaulted an obstacle, swung around the corner and ran smack bang into another obstacle. I fell backwards, banged my helmet on the floor. I laughed and laughed.
It was the most fun I’d had in my life.
Running Silver 