Web World

By Casimerz Dzwralinski

Mysterious lines of electro-magnetic origin appear around the world, growing for the past century, increasing at an alarming rate. Places with the greatest concentrations are becoming unlivable.

Ytharls Bimalik, champion of the web-riding sport, is the first they blame.

She becomes allied to her co-suspect, head of Hovercar. They find the bizarre truth: guilty is extra-dimensional electricity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Martian Publishing
• Release date: Nov 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463526095

Book preview

WEB WORLD

By Casimerz Dwzralinski

MARTIAN PUBLISHING

Copyright 2019 by Martian Publishing Company

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

No portion of this volume may

be reproduced in any format

without the express written

permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to persons or

organizations, living or extinct,

is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

Ytharls Bimalik concentrated on her preparations. It was just another meet, just another competition, but she was at the top of her game because she never treated it as just another meet. Each time her focus was on this one as the only competition that ever mattered. The television still blared in the other room but she shut it out as simply more noise.

… today presented another petition to the government for the cessation of progress on building a new generation of transporters in the desert south of Ganzwa. The citizens' group gathered to vocally protest… mob sounds could be heard …and blocked the roadway as the equipment approached from the factories at Juarigo. Dethre Supulango, spokesperson for the Transcorp Group had this to say:

Another voice came on. Government studies have repeatedly shown the lack of evidence linking the persistent melanomas with the pulsing magnetic fields of our transporters. These people are engaged in a witch-hunt. There is not one shred of evidence to support their claims for this petition.

Government sources, continued the reporter, "have refused to comment on this affair noting that their position has not changed since the last protest some six years ago. The learned doctor, Hritora Manistor of Western Saavasaad University, says extensive studies in the new transporters brought the same results as the earlier series. There is no public danger.

In other news, archeologists of the…

Man, that is so much bullshit!

Rolio turned off the set in disgust and stomped from the room, almost colliding with Ytharls as he did so.

Oops! Sorry, sis, I didn't see you.

I don't think you were in the mood to be noticing much of anything. She laughed as he stomped his way to the kitchen. She returned to her stretching, and regaining her focus.

She had foregone college to follow her sport of choice and she had supposed this had sent an unexpected message to her brother that college was unnecessary. So he sat around watching television while their parents – and herself – supplied him the creature comforts he had come to love.

All their warnings notwithstanding, he had made no move in that direction yet, even though she had publicly announced her retirement from the professional circuit with plans to start college in the fall.

He truly thought he was doing an important public service through his complaints about the establishment; his website was abuzz about the daily doings of those in power. And about her schedule of performances and her insights. If not for the latter, she doubted anyone would have ever bothered to notice all his rants.

These thoughts took only a matter of moments to process through her mind before the focus again became foremost. Family crises would wait. Her public would not.

*******

The crowds were pressing close to the cordon set up by the event security team.

Forty-thousand are on hand today, Greth. Not bad for a series 'B' event, wouldn't you say?

That's right, Mellak, and all forty-thousand are here to watch Ytharls Bimalik in her last run for the trophy. She has said she was going to push the limits of the sport all the harder in this final run and her competitors have risen to the challenge. As relentless as they have pursued her, however, she still keeps winning.

Yes, Greth, you're right there. Her streak of wins this season has broken her previous record set back in '05. Three more wins and she will have finished a perfect season.

Fujara Oopsonorval may have something to say about that. This young man has been most impressive this season. Twice now he has coming close to besting her and once missed tying her by only one point.

A chuckle. And it is easy to see who will be catapulted into the championship circle next season. He's been her only serious competition for several years now. Others may win an individual meet, but he and Ytharls have finished one and two every year.

That's so true, Mellak, so true. And all the more reason to watch these last three tournaments. Fujara cannot win the championship himself now but he can still upset her dream of the perfect season. If this young man is as determined to stop her from attaining that as she is to achieve it, we are in for one heck of a ride today.

Yes, Greth, and for the next two meets as well, which we will cover for the Southwest Broadcasting Network in our exclusive coverage of this exciting sport.

Thanks for the reminder. It looks like the referees are getting the players into position… The camera cut to a wide view of the area of the performance as he continued, You can't see the web-lines at the moment but, believe me, we'll have the filter in place so you viewers at home can see all the action without having to wear the viewing goggles.

After glancing off-camera a moment, Mellak said, So, before the action begins we'll take a break for this short word from our sponsors. He joined his co-anchor in smiling at the camera.

The producer mouthed three, two, one then said, And we're off. Good work fellows. We got about five before we cut back to the action.

Mellak looked over as Greth picked up a clipboard off the table behind which they sat. So what's on the agenda for today, anything special?

Let's see, he flipped through the pages, Kinerets has been scrubbed. Ankle injury – not recovered yet from that meet in Dalrimpul.

Too bad, she was good. And flamboyant. He shrugged. Of course that's how she got hurt…

Yeah… Greth continued to scan the pages. Nothing much more. The break between runs will include a special report on the renewed controversy about the source of the web.

I wish these people would just can it! Every couple of years they drag it out again and stew for a while. Can't they even remember last time? It's been disproved every time – they never present any new evidence. He shook his head sourly. Such a waste of time.

Maybe so, Greth returned the board to the desk and straightened his tie. But it is news and we always report it. And I hear that now they have Pilemma – the head of Hovercar – involved in the case. He inclined his head. It may be the same old story but it is in the news so we have to talk about it. If we didn't people will wonder why we don't.

And we definitely do not want that. I'm gonna run to the can. Be right back.

At some distance from the television announcers' platform, Ytharls adjusted her web-viewing goggles on her face and looked over the venue, able to see the web-lines that had been invisible a moment before. It was always advisable to check the area before the event because sometimes – though not too often – the lines changed subtly.

Most people in the viewing stands wore the special lenses to view the web. To those without, it seemed the competitors were floating in the air, bouncing off unseen objects, and cruising the winds. In this location, there were a lot of lines but not too many to interfere with the viewing. When she had competed in Faltharshan last year, the location had grown to contain so many lines that the televisions had to mute half the lines or the viewers would have had some difficulty watching the competitors.

She preferred a location like this where the lines were fewer in number. It required a higher degree of skill and allowed more freedom of movement. In Faltharshan, she felt too constrained, imprisoned by the vast number of lines. And one fellow had actually fallen but never hit the ground because there were so many of them.

If the web continued to grow as it had over the past decade – and that growth rate was increasing, no question – the sport would also evolve to encompass the greater number of lines. So it was probably a good time for her to retire. The lines of the web had always implied a freedom to her that walking in wide open spaces could not. But too many lines… Well, she might as well be in a crowded mall.

****

Hi, Ythy! Fujara used the nickname he knew she hated. But as he was the only real challenger she had, she let him get away with it. Four years her junior, he stormed onto the web back in '97 and rose quickly to be one of the best in the world. And one of only a handful who had ever bested her at a meet.

Hey, Jaroo. She in return used a nickname she knew he hated. How's everything been going?

Pretty fair, better'n lame. I hear that you've been planning some amazing stunt to wow the crowds and get the trophy this year. I sure hope that's not just chatter.

No, I've got something special in the works. That is unless one of you copycats happen to do it first.

Copycats! Hey, we innovate as much as you, y'know. So don't try and trash the field. I mean, just 'cause the cameras on you most the time don't mean we haven't done some of those strokes you do first.

Yes, I'll admit I take some of the moves I see that work – everyone does – otherwise none of us would have a program, period. But don't think you're going to get even a hint of what it is by your intimidation tactics.

He grinned, found out. Come on, Ythy, just a hint? Be a pal, hey?

You vultures would take the hint and steal my thunder, I know you too well. So, no hints and that's final. You can just be as surprised as the rest of the world.

Well, just so happens that I got something special planned too, y'know. He laughed. One word from you to that reporter about it and the rest of us have been busting our humps trying to develop something unique to use against you in the final. Not that we wouldn't love to see you retire with a perfect season… At least the 'retire' part of the statement.

She laughed and waved him off. Nice try, kiddo. Tell your groupies you got nothing from me.

On the contrary. He bowed his head. Thank you.

Bravado, she thought, the kid has it by the bucketful. Still, she reviewed everything that she had just said to make sure she did not inadvertently drop a hint.

What she planned was so audacious she was certain no one else would even think of such a thing. The sport had always been about maintaining yourself and control of the board, not anything to do with where you went with it. She hoped no one would think beyond that narrow focus. The trick she planned was not strictly within the rules of the sport but it was definitely not excluded from the rules. Since the rules made no mention of the possibility of the idea, she assumed – hoped! more than anything – that no one else would venture upon the notion.

Still, she had done all her practicing well beyond the view of players and media alike, and everyone else for that matter. If her parents knew…

When she had first started in the sport, she was only eight years old and competing with kids on the block. Her agility turned some heads including those of her parents. There had been races to the hospital – stunts back then were just as dangerous and the broken bones and bruises just as ugly – and more than once her parents had admonished her to stop the foolishness.

She had no idea it would become a professional sport and bring her such a hero's lifestyle, it was simply something that challenged her, dared her to gain control of her body as well as push her mentally to handle that control.

Local notoriety turned into national fame when promoters for the manufacturer of the balance boards put together a competition. Local winners gathered regionally, regional winners gathered nationally, and she had beaten them all.

After three such winnings, and the publicity garnered by the promoters, it had blossomed into the ranks of professional sports with her as the predominant competitor. Unintentionally, she had become an international name.

After years of defending her title, challenged now by others more than by her own self alone, she had decided to call it quits. One more run at the title and she would leave this behind to go chase other goals in other venues.

Some of the sportscasters claimed she was quitting because she was getting too old for the sport. At first she had resented the remark but realized it was probably true. Perhaps she had simply outgrown the sport, seeing every year as the same old stuff, reworked or twisted, enhanced or revised, but far too repetitious. It was a younger person's sport, requiring an innovation that comes from the freshness of it – something she had become too jaded to sense anymore.

It was time to hang up her board. Even coming up with the few relatively new moves for this final season had been a strain and the last one, the showstopper, had only been derived when she began studying a completely different field.

Enough time for reflection, however, as the event was starting. She slipped her goggles on to better see the web lines – those strange lines of energy that had given birth to her sport.

The young man had decided to forego the various mounting platforms and enter the web from the ground. This was far more difficult than most people could understand but its importance would not be lost on the judges and other competitors; he was announcing: I am not to be trifled with.

With the board over his head, he hooked a line and rode it upward at an angle. Swinging his body sideways, he released one hand and swung the board down to another line, positioning it so that his feet would land on it.

Nicely done, Ytharls thought, and the crowd applauded the completion of the difficult mount while the judges scribbled on their scorecards. The remainder of the performance was fairly standard stuff, jumping from line to line, riding one up and another back, punctuated here and there with turns, flips, and those stunning stops in mid-air when momentum surrendered to gravity, the player holding the board under his feet which had become the signature poster child of the sport.

She clapped with the others when he had finished. It had not been an amazing performance, but one more suited to a beginner in the sport, the mount notwithstanding. In a matter of moments the scores were tabulated and displayed for all to see. A couple of tens, a few nines, and one eight. The seven judges were being very lenient, she thought.

A ten for that? One contestant scowled near her. Then my double flip had better get a perfect twelve or my sponsor's going to complain.

She turned to the complainer. And does your routine start from the ground?

Well, no, he was embarrassed to be speaking to the living legend, I start from an intermediate platform.

Have you ever started from the ground?

The guy blushed and shook his head. Well, n-no, I can't get the momentum…

Then you must understand the difficulty. She turned back as the next performer climbed the stairs. I think you should consider that before you decide to start complaining about the judges. She heard no response to her comment and was soon lost in following the action to care.

She shook her head to release the memories clamoring around her, claiming her attention for their viewing again in the sun. Hanging up her board was certainly bringing out the maudlin sentiments. Daily she was bombarded by small moments and assaulted by wave after wave of forceful feelings, invading her concentration and usurping her grasp on the present. What must a person with a longer history in their sport go through, she wondered, when they decided on retirement? Her twelve years were enough.

Now, with departure impending, every instant brought a flood of memory. As though each new moment compared itself to other similar in her past, vying for some bizarre form of precedence in her memory.

~~~~

CHAPTER TWO

She breathed deeply and let the fluttering pictures scream past her, fading, fading, until all that was left was the web. Her against the web, just as it had started. But they were not now nor had they ever really been enemies. They challenged one another, definitely, but never to defeat but rather to strengthen. So, the web had grown, and so