Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

04_MRITH CLUB

At 16 and 20 Orion was standing near the entrance of the mirth club 'Ortho' waiting for his team. Conflicting emotions plagued him as he watched his Keneso counterparts entering the club. This was the one place he felt he could prove his worth; the place he felt free from the gnawing sensation of resentment and social stigma. But that was only when he was in the ship, playing the game. He was compelled, first, to go through the torture of being in the same location as his former class without being one of them. This infused him with the sickening sensation of inferiority. While he was forced to labor his young life away in order to keep his apartment and have a decent diet, the Keneso youth lived carefree on the results of his unrecognized toil.

But there was no way he could fix what had been broken – once out, forever out. It wasn't his fault – he was one of the many innocent victims of the Order. The Keneso was carefully guarded; once you had been shamefully removed for any reason there was no coming back; the punishment for defying the Order, or being associated with those who did, was permanent banishment – at best.

Keneso youth possessed G-1 chips which gave them unlimited access to game clubs and spin houses. They did not labor in the factories and assembly plants or in any of the industries or services of com-zone support. They were educated in the "High Language" till they had completed their twentieth cenro, then they usually had a few cenro to experience the "full freedom of youth" before being introduced into a position in the ruling sector.

Orion remembered his childhood - how different everything had been. Why did it have to change? He thought in frustration. At that dark moment he spotted his gunner and com-op walking down the busy avenue. He tried to put his troubled thoughts aside and he greeted them with a confident smile.

"This is our big day," Fel recited his standard introduction to their game, "I can feel it!" They placed their fists together. "Calabar" they said in unison. They turned and walked into the club. The com-gate registering them as they passed. A club guard gave them a nod which Orion returned. Receiving any form of recognition was a tonic he craved.

The Calabar were one of the only Cholan teams that had managed to make it past the beginner's league. Now, they were club favorites. The team headed to their respective locker rooms and began suiting up. "Celli brought the new hex-5, right?" Orion asked as he put his jacket on the hook.

"Yeah," Fel responded, "she got it, and it was her best score ever on the asteroid quantrex."

"How much?"

Fel paused and looked at the ceiling. "I think she said... forty kams, or even a little more, I forget exactly."

"Not bad," Orion said, calculating the figures into the game process, "not bad at all. If she can do at least forty," he said twisting his head around to look at Fel, "just might be our ticket."

Fel looked seriously at Orion for a few mecs trying to figure it out, but then gave up with a shrug. "Guess so."

Orion's constant hope was that they would finally win first place in the race. They had come in eleventh the previous porthen, which was disappointing, but that was a rare occurrence. The time before that the had come in fifth. Orion knew that it had been his fault as the pilot. Fel and Celli did a great job, he thought to himself, if they had a better pilot, they would have won first place. Come on Orion, he scolded himself, pick it up. Don't let the guys down again.

It wasn't just the credit they stood to win, although that was an important factor; Orion desired to stand out in some way, excel at something, maybe even become a pro and fly a real ship, not just a sim-craft. If I could just get up there and have that chance, he thought, the three of us. I think we could do it.