The Racer *READ PROLOGUE FIRST*

A wide screen flicks on behind Dad, showing an arrangement of statistical data gathered since the last Convention. Just like I expected, the numbers have improved. As my dad demonstrates, there’s been a decrease in arrests, which means less people are having to sleep – probably because Katz’s golems are way too intimidating for anyone to step out of line.

“ … And test scores for the MMEs are the highest they’ve been since the Saski Incident. It looks like the people have finally recovered from that terrible event.”

Brandon Saski. I remember him from 10 years ago when I was just a kid. The psycho tried to commit the first murder in over 60 years. It was against the vice-president at the time, who thankfully escaped and had Brandon arrested. Because of the crime’s severity, the IPU didn’t even show his face to the public – not even I know what he looked like. Anyway, everybody was mortified after that, causing scores in the MMEs – that is, the Monthly Mental Evaluations – to decline, and people are just now getting a grip.

“Thanks to the internet moderation policies initiated this year,” Dad continues, “there has also been fewer illegal files being shared on the web, protecting the people from dangerous influences. The IPU plans to expand this to—"

“Miiister President!”

A shrill voice interrupts Dad’s presentation. Here we go again. It’s no other than Professor Katz, the only man bold enough to cut off the president. He struts onto the stage, standing right next to Dad on the podium.

“Professor Katz, what are you doing—"

“Must this be the way we start off the night? With all this boring…” he gestures to the diagrams on the screen, “stuff?”

The professor does this every year. Every. Year. We ought to put him on a leash. I’m sure Shiloh is cracking up right now somewhere in the audience.

Dad frowns, then he covers the microphone and says some things to Katz. I obviously can’t tell what it is, but it’s clear he’s very unhappy. Nevertheless, just like with every Convention, he accepts Katz’s wishes and hands him control over the stage. With a toothy grin, Katz spreads out his arms and says:

“Hello, all you beautiful people! I apologize for the intrusion, but I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer!”

He snaps his fingers, then his crew steps out from behind the curtain. With the help of some droids, they haul in a massive contraption – it takes up the whole wall. But besides its size, the thing’s pretty underwhelming. It’s basically just a metal ring hoisted on a stand with some controls and monitors attached to it, along with a short stairway to the side.

Professor Katz, still smiling from ear to ear, places his hand on it and says, “This, everyone… Is the ‘Racer!’”

An audible gasp is heard throughout the crowd. I heard the Racer wasn’t supposed to be even halfway completed until six years from now. Intrigued, I lean forward, now studying the “mediocre” looking machine more intently.

Katz chuckles. “I know! Incredible, isn’t it? This beauty right here is going to take us to the future – literally!”

He presses the button in the center, and the Racer activates. Bolts of electricity shoot out from all edges of the ring, forming a pulsing orb in its middle. It steadily grows and grows, until we’re all momentarily blinded by a great flash of light – and when it’s over, there it is: staring into a void of twilight, we see an operating time machine.

Everyone cheers. I can point out Jasper from here – he’s going nuts.

Katz basks in the praise, perhaps longer than necessary. Once the room has calmed some, he says, “Now, this is just a prototype. It can go 12 years into the future and back, but the finished Racer will be limitless. Allow me to demonstrate…”

As he goes up the staircase, a few of his team members make some adjustments to the panel. The portal then shifts from a lifeless abyss to a scene from everyday life – a typical morning outside the Headquarters. We watch in amazement as Katz steps through the Racer and stands amongst the people, who seem to pay him no mind. The audience is in a standing ovation, and even I clap.

When he returns to the present time with just a simple step, Katz shouts out, “We are the first in history to have transcended time!”

“He actually did it, I can’t believe it,” Mom says, astonished.

Apparently, Katz had traveled to a month ago. He explains that, as a precaution, the Racer does not allow us to interact with what we see – we can only observe. That’s a relief, there’s no way I’d trust anybody to manipulate time. Not even the professor himself. But maybe one day, when I take Dad’s position as president, is when I’ll feel comfortable.

“Show us the future!” A lady yells out.

“Of course!” Then to his crew, he says, “Send us a month into the future—”

“We want to see twelve years!”

“Yes, twelve years!”

The auditorium erupts into a clamor of people demanding for the Racer to be set to the maximum years into the future. I wish they’d be more composed about it; I can’t stand obnoxious noise. But to admit, I’m pretty excited about this myself.

“Alright, alright, if that’s what you want! But the prototype isn’t yet designed to stop us from ‘doing’ anything past a month, so we can only show you somewhere isolated.”

“Go to the boundary,” Dad suggests, close enough to the microphone to be heard. It’s a stretch of land that surrounds the Capital, completely devoid of any life. The place has been barren since forever, so it should be the same in twelve years from now.

“Excellent choice, Mr. President!”

With just the push of a few buttons and the flip of a switch, the vision of a month ago quickly spins and contorts, forming into a mesh of scattered colors and lights. I’m on the edge of my seat, watching with anticipation, as the array slowly settles into a clear, distinct image… And in an instant, we’re met with horror.

It's a sight I never thought to see in my life. Mom clutches onto my arm, terror sweeping over her, and Dad is immediately escorted off the stage. Through the portal, flying across the skies above the boundary, are two opposite fleets of ships. Battleships, the models we’ve had stored away for years in case of emergency only. Lasers from their turrets shoot through the air, destroying each other and anything in their path. Golems equipped with submachine guns manage the ground, warring against an army of soldiers clad in black armor.

We can hear everything – their shouts, the explosions, a ship plummeting down. It’s endless chaos. In just a mere twelve years, this is our future?

“What’s he doing? Turn it off already!” I say out of frustration, while Professor Katz just stands there like an idiot. His other scientists had already fled without hesitation, being too scared to do their jobs.

One of the droids, realizing the danger, pulls the dazed professor away from the Racer’s ring. Another droid begins to deactivate it, when suddenly, a loud humming sound from a ship is heard, and it’s only getting closer. A gust of wind comes out through the portal, signaling its approach. It’s too late for the droids to do anything. At a speed surpassing lightning, a battleship barges into the auditorium from the Racer, immediately crushing everything – and everyone – in its wake. It arrived just before the portal finally closed, allowing no return.

Screams are everywhere. Chairs are knocked over as people sprint to the exit, even trampling over others if necessary. Mom snatches my hand, leading me away from the catastrophe with panicked and hurried movements. I don’t see Dad or my friends anywhere, but they should’ve at least avoided the ship’s initial entrance. They’re okay – they have to be.

The battleship’s door opens, and an armed group rushes out from inside. Their numbers are nowhere near as vast as what we saw on the other side of the Racer, but they’re still enough to be a threat. Behind them appears the most noticeable figure – a woman with white hair and clouded eyes. A mask covers the lower half of her face, but from what’s visible, her skin has scars all over it. They make way for her, as she limps over to the podium.

“If anyone else moves, they will be killed,” the woman speaks into the microphone.

We halt our retreat, staring at the invaders with wide eyes and disbelief.

“I am Ezri,” the woman says, “and I’m here to destroy you.”