Having
lived all his life within a city that was the paragon of order,
George had grown accustomed to a meticulously planned transport
system. The streets were straight and perfectly level, placed for
maximum efficiency. The highways were always flowing steadily. Even
if there was a vehicle accident, either the obstruction was cleared
quickly or an alternate route was made available.
Every
journey by road was quick and smooth. The most exciting thing that
the boy could probably expect from a vehicle ride in Covenant was a
left-hand turn at a good speed on a commercial district street while
seated in the right passenger seat.
Thus,
riding a vehicle over the rolling dunes of the sandy wasteland was an
entirely new experience for George. If asked previously if he was
interested in a ride through rough uneven terrain, he would not have
been interested. After all, a bumpy ride was just an uncomfortable
inconvenience to him.
Once he
had experienced it himself, however, his opinion had changed. George
found that he enjoyed the wild high-speed ride through the sandy
wastes. One that tossed him up with every bump. One that had him
leaning aside whenever Mabel swerved to avoid an obstacle. It was
definitely more exciting than the mundanely smooth drive on the
city's streets.
The
excitement made him squeal. A high-pitch squeal. The little girl kind
of squeal.
That
earned him a sideways glance from Mabel in the driver's seat beside
him. She probably had the appropriate disapproving frown on too, not
that George would notice since the Vixen had her mask on.
From his
seat at the front of the transport, George could see the rolling
wasteland around him through the windshield. The land was bleak and
empty, endless as far as George could see, covered with dry sand.
There
was the occasional outcropping of rocks. Sometimes there was a
wreckage or two, victims of the wasteland. Any trees that he saw were
twisted and stunted. There was hardly any greenery, so unlike the
trees of Covenant's parks and greenhouses, which were full of life.
Or the colored banners and lights of the residential districts.
Though
the sun shone brightly above in the cloudless sky, visibility was
limited. Dusty fog in the distance hid the view of the horizon.
Another
bump in the ride. Another little girlie squeal of delight. And an
unnoticed groan from the driver.
Mabel
appeared to know where she was going. She had maintained a steady
heading, guided by the navigational data that appeared on the Heads
Up Display (HUD) of her visor. She only moved when an obstacle
appeared, be it rocks, broken trees, wrecked remains or someone's
house in the middle of nowhere.
As time
passed, George's excitement wore thin. After an hour of bumpiness,
his rump was beginning to feel sore and his leg muscles were getting
strained. He longed to stretch his muscles but there was not enough
leg room for that.
George
looked around for something to take his mind off his discomfort. His
eyes fell on the small fox's head logo on Mabel's breastplate. Then
he remembered that Tricia's power armor was plain gray, without any
logos or decorations.
"Why
doesn't Tricia's armor have the Vixen logo?" George asked.
"That's
because this isn't my usual armor," Tricia's voice could be
heard through the earphones in George's helmet.
"Why
aren't you wearing your usual armor then?" George sent his
question through the microphone built into his mask.
"Laura
only allows the Rose Red to be maintained by her personally,"
Tricia replied.
George
assumed that the 'Rose Red' was what Tricia called her usual power
armor. He guessed that it would require considerable maintenance
after use. Not only would armor plating require fixing or
replacement, but there was the power supply and complicated parts
both mechanical and electronic that needed to be checked for wear.
"Laura's
crazy strict about it," Mabel added, "She doesn't want
anyone to see her technical secrets."
"Her
secrets?" George prompted.
"Laura
built the Rose Red herself," Tricia explained, "It's her
masterpiece, a beautiful work of perfection. It's faster and more
agile than regular power armors, able to carry better weaponry and
has better protection."
"Laura's
a real fanatic when it comes to machines," Mabel mentioned, "She
can build a ride up from scratch, with a souped-up engine, and still
throw in fuel efficiency."
"She's
always tinkering with the specs, trying to squeeze every bit of
performance out," Tricia said.
"And
she's got that crazed look in her eyes whenever she works,"
Mabel said, "and she's always up with weird ideas."
"She
cries whenever we wreck her machines, though," the other Vixen
said.
"Oh
yeah, that," Mabel agreed quietly, "Makes me feel guilty
about touching her work."
The
Vixens stopped talking after that.
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