Until he looked at pictures of Sila Varun.
Racing and Sila. The only things that could spark something inside of Bay. The only things that made it worth peeling himself out of bed in the mornings and returning to the lumpy mattress at night. Just when racing had started to lose its magic, Sila had appeared before him like a sign from above.
A sign to keep pushing, to keep breathing.
A sign that he was fucked up, and not just because he dreamed of the comforting embrace of the grim reaper.
Sila Varun was astudent.
Bay could never have him.
The finish line was fast approaching and Bay put all his focus into it as he sped through the brightly lit backstreets. Rumor was the Emperor herself had a thing for these races and helped fund them, though no one had ever actually seen her face here before. Considering the pot on this particular race, someone with money and influence was certainly watching from somewhere.
His opponent was right behind him, but he knew even before he crossed the line he had this in the bag. As soon as his bike zoomed over it the crowd broke out in raucous howls and he grinned behind his helmet.
“Pandaveer! Pandaveer!” they cheered his nickname, and the high he got from the feeling filled him, easing all that empty space he typically carried around.
He’d gained the nickname by chance when he’d still been a rookie racer. His skills had drawn a small crowd his first couple of times out on the track and with his identity hidden even then—since he’d been a student and paranoid about being caught and ratted on—people had started to call him Pandaveer. He had no idea who had started it, but it’d stuck and grown on him. Bay had never seen one in real life before, but his grandmother had shown him a picture she’d taken of one once and for that reason he’d kept it.
He didn’t stop even once he’d crossed the finish line, continuing down the straight road until he could exit off a dirt curve. Pretty soon he was going to need to come up with another exit.
Bay parked right at the edge of the forest, slipping off the bike and handing the keys over to the man waiting there.
“Killed it as usual,” his friend and fellow racer, Nate, said with a smirk, patting him on the back.
If only he knew.
“Flix is waiting for you in the lot,” Nate continued, pointing over his shoulder.
The handoff was typically done quickly so no one saw them and followed Bay, which was why he didn’t bother verbally replying. With a wave he stepped into the forest, instantly swallowed by the trees. He kept the helmet on even then, heading through this shorter segment of woods until he came out the other side. The back parking lot, smaller than the main one and not attached to the actual event grounds, was empty aside from a single vehicle.
The man waiting for him was standing outside the black hovercar, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the tinted passenger side window. Flix never bothered to hide when he came to pick Bay up, unlike his best friend Berga who seemed to enjoy playing secret agent.
Technically, Berga was the one Bay had been friends with at the start of this two years ago, but whenever the twenty-two-year-old was caught up with one of his experiments, he sent Flix in his stead. Berga was loyal like that and would never leave Bay hanging. And Flix…
Bay still didn’t really know enough about him to have formed an opinion other than to say he clearly cared an awful lot about Berga. Though, and this was just a guess made off the way the two had always interacted, the relationship was strictly platonic in nature.
Both of them were younger than Bay and they also happened to be prominent members of the Brumal Mafia. More aptly put, they were part of Baikal Void’s Satellite.
Another reason Bay hadn’t believed his grandmother gambled with the Shepards? Berga’s family had lived right next door to them for the first seven years Bay had been there and Idle had gotten on pretty well with them. The fact they had dinners regularly at one another’s houses was why Bay and Berga had become friends despite their age gap in the first place.
If she were going to suddenly fall into gambling, surely she would have chosen to play at one of the Brumal establishments instead. Gambling was legal on Vitality, and the Brumal were scary, but better the evil you knew. Idle knew Brumal members personally. It made no sense to Bay that she’d gone down the road to the Shepards shitty, barely in operation card game held in a pitch post tent.
He didn’t want to think about this anymore. What was done was done and he’d given up a long time ago on ever getting answers. No matter what he believed, Idle’s signature and thumb print had been on the official transfer of deed documents. The leader of the Shepards, Haroon Caddel, had supplied them as proof the second he’d been asked.
“How’d it go?” Flix asked as he approached.
Bay went straight to the back door and opened it, quickly stripping out of his racing leathers and helmet. He tossed them into the duffle bag on the floor and then pulled on the cherry red leather jacket and the black baseball cap that’d been left on the seat for him.
The cap helped conceal his blue hair—which had a tendency to stand out even on a planet such as Vitality where the color was common—and the brightness of the jacket gave off the appearance of someone not afraid to stand out, which ironically enough, typically had people losing interest in him.
“I won,” Bay said a second before his multi-slate beeped. He unzipped the leather sleeve at his right forearm to expose the screen and saw the deposit notification that had just been made to his bank account.
As per usual, his body gave no reaction. Two years ago, he’d most likely have been elated. The kind of money he’d accumulated was already more than enough for him to quit his teaching job. But now…Money didn’t matter.
Nothing did.
The app for Inspire stared back at him when he closed the bank notice and the corner of his mouth twitched.
