Lokemon 2 by John Hobbs

Author:John Hobbs [Hobbs, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: John Hobbs
Published: 2019-12-23T22:00:00+00:00

9: Mount Lune

Thus weak lokemon fall to the next generation. Where, though, is the line drawn? Men from the fringe say “A new gen’s when swaggerpies sprout wings,” but at that stage in the mutation route any resemblance to a swaggerpie would be long gone. And so we turn to genome analysis.

—H.B. Poliharv, The Monster Cycle

Verda’s bike careened down a forested mountain road with no headlights.

“Are you sure you can see?” Cole asked.

The bulbs strung in the trees around the camp had been left far behind, and the moon did little to illuminate the way.

“My shades have night vision. And the bike has a WataTech sensor suite. I couldn’t wrap us around a tree if I tried.” She swerved around an unseen obstacle in the road.

Cole distracted himself by checking their route on his lokedex. It seemed the Lune Tunnel was more for vehicles than people. He zoomed in on a map of it.

The main road had regular waypoints, but tapping them provided no information. Smaller paths branched off the main, twisting crazily. Unlike Beryl Forest, the Lune Tunnel had a 3D map. Some of the smaller tunnels dived deep into the mountains. A few terminated with red dots. Tapping them only revealed a pop-up:

Insufficient data. Sync Device with Spelter City Network to update map?

He frowned. Weren’t they out of range of the city by now?

The message changed. Update error. No network found.

Verda’s dashboard beeped. “We just left Spelter’s frequency range,” she said. “We’ll reach the tunnel soon.”

“Did you remember to turn on your repeller before we left?”

“Do I look like an amateur?”

“Just checking.”

The road ended in a roundabout before a concrete bunker. A weak light illuminated a gate thick with rivets. Cole thought they were going to run into the door when the gate opened with seconds to spare, and slammed shut as soon as the tailpipe cleared the gateway.

Verda pulled to the side and slowed to a stop. She grinned. “Thought I was gonna hit it, didn’t you?”

Her voice echoed down the paved tunnel road, which sloped down at a steep angle and curved around a bend. There were raised concrete walkways on either side of the lane with track lights overhead.

“Not a lot of traffic,” Cole observed with a blithe tone that masked jangled nerves. He thought they were paste before the door opened.

“Mostly it’s just convoys every now and then,” Verda said, examining her lokedex. She nodded to herself and turned the throttle.

The bunker road they entered by was an access ramp. They merged onto an empty highway, and if Cole thought Verda’s speed was reckless on the mountain road, the pace she set on the wide underground lane was blistering. The bike’s low hum became a high-pitched whine. They shot past off-ramps almost before Cole could see them coming. The lack of buffeting air currents made the ride surreally quiet.

***

Verda squinted at her dashboard, then her lokedex. “Weird. Looks like there’s a military checkpoint ahead.”

“Is that a problem?”

“It could be, if someone wants to make an example out of a trainer carrying a coilgun without a permit.

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