ICTIO
EDIZZY
FANGEL
Story by Simon Crum
air on his face and scalp.
He effortlessly ollied a service vent,
Illustration by Kevin Ancell scaring the hell out of an old man
Touch was getting out today.
He knew because it had only taken
Phil and his Toshiba laptop forty
minutes to burn St. Mary's data locks
wide open. The hospital was running
a HYUANG 70 system to organize
its records-who lived, who died,
who thawed, who froze.
"When are they going to learn?"
laughed Phil still stabbing, the
keyboard with lightning speed. "A
20th century system won't protect
anything against today's software. I
mean, why even bother?"
A few more minutes and the seeker
program flashed back with the exact
date and time patient SDJ-384301
was scheduled to be released from
the hospital's high security psych
ward.
"There ya go, Warp, info-to-go
courtesy of my lil' laptop, a few
blackbox breakers, and Philster's
magic fingers! Yawanit hard?" He
started scrambling through cardboard
boxes full of styrofoam stars for printer
cables and a new ribbon he knew
he'd stashed somewhere.
Social Deviant Juvenile-384301:
That was Touch all right. Phil had
scammed the ID directly from police
link satellite the day after she was
busted.
"No, I got it."
who was trying to sleep there.
Lessons from a legend. Lose yourself
in the tunnel. See the next corner and
already be there. Whatever you do,
don't think
But he was thinking. He couldn't
help it. He was thinking of her and
one night they'd spent together in a
service vent and the hurricane force
winds created by the magnetic pulse
trains that thundered past and the
people sitting in those trains who, for
a split instant, saw something they
could not recognize as two; only as
one.
Warp's deck shuddered violently
and he recovered just in time to lift
over another vent. His back truck
caught the far lip but a 180
wrenched it free. Another 180° and
he was pumping hard.
With a little over a hundred meters
to St. Mary's station left, he stopped
and tightened his trucks. The end of
the tunnel seemed so far away. Like
Touch had said before her historical
station-to-station run; "When I get
there I let you know if I made it."
The following day those words were
carved into every deck in Boston.
With a flick of his thumb, he
switched his board to positive mode.
Its soft, low pitched hum had pro
Phil looked more than a little fessional written all over it. He
disappointed.
"Thanks, nice work. I owe you
one."
"Hey, it's true what they say that
she went from station to station,
right?"
"Saw it all from the train on 905, It
was. I can't explain.... wild, you
know, really wild.
"Yeah? Must have been. Bring her
around when she gets out, okay? I'd
love to meet the legend."
That was two and a half weeks
ago.
Touch was getting out today.
Warp weaved westward down the
flawlessly smooth surface of New
Boston's transit tunnel, 'cept he
wasn't Warp anymore. Just like
Touch had taught him, he lost himself
in the rolling hiss of polyurethane on
ceramic, and the sensation of cool
64 THRASHER MAGAZINE
stroked the smooth gold rails he'd
spent four months pay on-better
conductivity, better ride. He recheck-
ed polarity to make sure.
All the commuter trains under New
Boston were charged positive. As
they ran, the central transit computers
changed the tunnel's magnetic
charge to propel the train. A negative
field that skaters called the moan-
zone activated at a constant ten
meters in front of the train and drew
the train forward. Within that ten
meters between the field and the train
itself, the charge became positive to
match the train's polarity and push it
along as it passed.
The TEN: that positively charged
ten meters ahead of the train was a
rush reserved for elite tunnel rats only.
The surfers compared it to shooting
the pipeline, until they tried it.
DIZZY ANGEL
60000
Survivors called it insanity. Yet among
the insane, there was one who had
once cut back, reached out her
hand, and actually placed it on the
bullet's nose. They called her
"Touch."
He took a few deep breaths. His
distance was rated above average,
but this run would qualify him as
good.
There was a rumbling coming from
the tunnel behind him. Swallowing,
concentrating, he eyed the walls
ahead and waited. The slight breeze
behind him became a moaning
wind. His mouth went dry. Then he
felt a slow pull backwards. The
moan-zone pulled him back, just as it
drew the train forward. This was
where the posers always bailed.
"When I get there, I'll let you know if
I made it."
Warp stayed alert. Deep in the
zone now, he kicked as hard as he
could. Without a headstart, the
sudden positive thrust would tear the
board out from under his feet.
Sensing his speed was good, he held
3222
his breath, bent double, grabbed his
deck, and slipped into TEN.
A solid wall of air pressured by
185 tons of graffiti-colored metal
death punched into his back. The
noise exploded around his ears and
the acceleration tore at his spine, but
he stayed down like she had told him
and let the forces pummel him
forward. Then, when speed became
constant, he stood up slowly, locked
his hands together behind him, and
saw he had a full seventy meters
ahead.
It was like freedom, or better. Like
he'd told Phil; can't explain. Ultimate
lifel Warp rode the walls higher and
higher until he actually crossed the
ceiling and came down the other
side. Through squinted leaking eyes
he saw the station ten meters away.
A moment to prepare and...
BOOOMFF-he was riding the
wall out of the tunnel straight onto the
paintchipped lip of the platform. The
wall of air dissipated in the open
station and the bullet train's repulsion
brakes kicked in.
Smoothest yet, thought Warp as his
slide grinded to a stop and he
twisted safely out of the train's way.
No cops either. A handful of people
turned to look, then quickly looked
away. There were always people
waiting here at the door. Some had
their sources, like Warp and Phil, but
most just waited, hoping that today
they wouldn't go home empty
handed. A girl no older than five
smiled at him till her mother grabbed
her roughly and carried her crying to
the far end of the station. He skated,
ice smooth and expressionless,
through the crowd then sat cross-
legged with his back on the blue-tiled
wall of St. Mary's station and
waited.
He didn't wait long
There was only the one under
ground exit from St. Mary's Hospital's
psych ward: an opaque door made
of some stronger-than-steel plastic
about a fist thick. After the sound of
gushing hydraulics, it swung
outwards. Guards waving K-type stun
rods pushed the waiting crowd back.
She shuffled out slower than the
other patients, but wore the same
green-blue gown and the same
darkness around the eyes. Parents
and friends rushed forward to meet
their loved ones, and Warp watched
Touch fall.
"Touch!" He forced his way toward
her, picked her up and carried her
back to the blue-tiled wall, away
from the confusion. The station now
echoed with wailing cries and
sobbing laughs. She sat holding her
hands over her ears, her tired face
screwed into agony. Then it passed,
as some new found calm smoothed
the lines into the face Warp had
missed so much.
She smiled. Warp leaned down to
kiss her. "God, I feel like I wanna
puke."
He kissed her on the forehead, and
smiled back
"Nice to see ya again, T. C'mon,
let's get outta here."
Warp jumped up and held out his
hand.
She got up slowly-too slowly,
edging her back up against the wall,
breathing hard
"You okay?" he asked and looked
at her carefully
Again she smiled. Her brown eyes
wandered like some drunk's, and she
cradled her head with her hand. For
the first time, Warp saw a small scor
just behind her right ear.
They couldn't find it. They looked
inside with their micro-cameras and
their white hot lasers, but they
couldn't find it. She started to
snicker. Warp grew pale.
"What?"
"Well, lover boy, it seems that
they'd heard about me, about the
legend who skated station to station
on track 905. Them doctors and suits
even had a name for me: "Angel,"
'coz passenger reports say I have
wings and can fly...
...could fly," she added softly. Her
laughter changed and she held the
wall tighter.
"I still don't under-
"Neither did they." Tears filled her
eyes and she pointed to her head.
"Warp, they poked around in there,
sampling, measuring, burning, trying
to find out what made me so damn
good-what gave
me such
concentration of timing and balance
at those speeds."
"What the hell..."
Warp's mind turned red with anger.
"You know the new secret RIM-
fighter the Pentagon's been blowin'
bundles on?" she asked him.
"Sure, it doesn't exist, but you can
buy a poster or a scale model of a
downtown."
"That's the one. Well, there's a
reason they've been keepin' it quiet.
Seems the techs finally came up with
a plane that rips so fast the test pilots
can't hold them and...SLAMI
Her hand slapped loudly against
the wall.
"Good-bye half a billion and
change, right?"
"Right, so, they wanted to find some
super-drug to fine tune the pilot's
reactions. They didn't find it though.
Chemically, my brain's no different
than that of your average geek who
can't tie his shoelaces without falling
over. All that trouble for an eighty
three page printout full of zeroes.
HAI
She dried her eyes with her sleeve
then grabbed his shoulders as the
next bullet-train pulled into the station.
"look, we'll head back to your place,
I'll get out of this damn robe, then
let's go get something to eat, huh?"
Wrapping her arm around his
waist, she led him toward the train's
open door. Warp wasn't sure how to
feel. She seemed happy enough,
but...
"So, you're okay now? You're still
gonna skate, right?"
They stepped into the train.
"Warp, I can barely stand. The
walls suck in and out, the floors
move, and my whole world is
spinnin'. They fucked up my inner ear
for good."
The door closed and the train
began rocking forward. Warp felt
Touch clinging tighter. The smile
again and the drunken eyes. God
she was beautiful. She stood on her
toes and whispered in his ear.
"But when I get there, I'll let you
know if I made it."