processors to offload thousands of rival crews who celebrated together on the mile-long isthmus cal ed the Point of the Redeemer.
Some Hokki found religion in this event; a message sent from the Divine, they said, to remind everyone of a greater journey yet unfulfil ed. For most, however, Ascension was a product of light, shadow, and chemical reactions. It was the moon, the rings, and the sun joining forces to paint a masterpiece. No more, no less.
Either way, Ascension was a gorgeous diversion from the uncertainty no one wished to discuss. Though it did not pass their lips, it never escaped their eyes. The night sky was uncluttered, free of the miles-long Ark Carriers that once orbited Hokkaido for centuries like smal moons. Tonight’s Ascension would be only the second since the Carriers returned to Earth when their empire collapsed, giving Hokkaido independence it soon lamented.
None of these matters of global and cultural importance bothered Ryllen Jee, whose only immediate concern involved dodging traffic in the UpWay without drawing the attention of the FDs. He ran afoul of a Forsythe Drone once before when he was speeding; anal buggers, they were. An FD almost crashed his rifter when it tried to stal him inside a tractor beam.
He wanted to file a formal complaint with Island Transport Discipline, but his mother reminded him why ITD would ignore him.
“I don’t have a violation to my name,” he insisted.
“Your name is al they need,” his mother said. “They’ve not had enough time to forgive. One day, Ryllen, they wil no longer hold the House of Jee against you.”
“Huh. How long until one day?”
Muna Lin Jee, a tiny woman who wore only black and blue, looked away, her wandering eyes telegraphing the response Ryl en did not want to hear.
“In time, the current generation of elders who determine doctrine wil die off. When the next generation ascends, they wil bring new doctrine. They wil cal upon forgiveness of past sins, and our family wil be rehabilitated. This is how it’s always been, Ryllen. I have lived it. So did your father and his ancestors.”
The explanation wasn’t good enough.
“I don’t deserve this,” he said. “I’m not a Jee by blood. Why should I be punished because Father was a collaborator?”
Muna Lin knotted her fingers, the long nails piercing skin, drawing blood. She turned her back to Ryllen.
“You cannot think of one moment where your Father treated you as any less than a son,” she said, her voice haggard. “Did he ever make you feel beneath your sisters or your brother, though you were not their blood?”
“I can think of a thousand times, but you were never there. He was careful, that way.”
“Then I am sorry, Ryl en, but there’s nothing you can do. Pay the fines and stay between the narrows until time forgives. You can blame your father for your misery, but you cannot push back against those who determine doctrine.”
That’s how Ryllen celebrated his sixteenth birthday.
It was also one of the final days he spent in his mother’s suite.
Now, four months later, as the leading edge of the Kye-Do rings peered over the ocean’s western horizon and the boiling orange sun fel in the east, less than an hour from setting, Ryllen Jee battled traffic with abandon. He disregarded his mother’s warning and looked for a strategic opening in the tight, regulated lanes of the UpWay.
His rifter was a two-seater, its bubble feature and AI guidance web the product of his own modifications. He spent a month’s income on a phasic driver capable of welding the structural flaws that almost brought him down in his last encounter with an FD. He programmed an il egal exemption into the guidance web to detect FD signatures as wel as an OutPass notifier in case he needed to make a quick escape onto the flat lanes of the city’s main boulevards. Tiny personal vehicles like his were al owed to intermingle at ground level with the traditional carriages and motorized rickshaws. FDs were not.
Ryllen was running late, and the UpWay was far more congested than he anticipated. Hundreds of blue Carbedyne nacel es, the power source for these vehicles, extended for kilometers in both directions.
Why al the limos? The six-seat sedans? The personal Scrams? He expected the lanes to be clear as evening neared, everyone settling in for an early dine ahead of the big moment.
He studied his guidance web and tried to map the fastest route to OutPass 14, stil three kilometers ahead. Frustrated by what he saw, Ryllen flipped his left wrist and glanced at the bicomm melded to his skin. He wanted to make the cal ; if Kai knew he’d be late, perhaps his roommate would stal for time.
Or maybe he’s tired of making excuses for me, Ryllen thought.
Cud! If I miss this introduction, I’m as good as Kohlna feed.
His fear wasn’t far from the truth. Ryllen was barely employable.
The family name didn’t help, but four months spent trying to work outside the safety net of his household produced a handful
