Atsudo's Auction
ATSUDO’S AUCTION
By Greentea82
The car whirred a right turn, then hovered softly down the wide lot until it reached its lane. Micel stared straight ahead, with a bored kind of meditation on the car in front of him. The constant loop of riding a car down to the auction hall, stopping in front the dealer’s to be bided on, and riding out and back towards the lot to pick up another car and do the same, ran through his head. The obstacles to navigate in that loop were the car dealers who would wonder through the congested traffic jam that were the drivers that sat just outside the large halls’ entryways, and bots that would drift in front and between the lanes to motion cars to stop or proceed.
He pressed the side of his temple to his left fist; his arm craned like that of a repair drone which would occasionally weave sharply into his H-15 lane next to any vehicle which lay dead because of low energy charge and repower it. In front of him not far ahead, the hall flashed its Atsudo logo across the building’s walls, a building surrounded by giant lots stretching with vehicles sitting in the middle of nowhere near a city. Past those lay century old large factories and ancient processing plants that crushed and churn the Flostim ore, used to aid hovering systems like that found in the very car he was in.
The car was a Plyzon LE model 10x that was at least a decade obsolete. His eyes shifted occasionally around to the sleek greys, jet blacks, and clinical whites that were the other cars hovering in place. He saw an odd red, green, blue, or gold color within the monotone grid, everyone a different make and model. All used.
I would be fortunate if I could own any of these cars, Micel thought. Yes, even the ten-year-old obsolete model looked appealing to the Junker he owned that was approaching fifteen, yet he bought only three years ago. His finances were careful as regular employment seemed to escape him these days, so affording a new ride was out of question. He didn’t give it anymore thought, watching in boredom as every so often a dealer slowly approached the Plyzon as a curious mammal at a Zoosanct, approaching the bars of his cage to stare at the humans. They would ask him a question or three about the specs, how’s it feel? If any emergency lights blinked on the panels. Easy stuff. And good thing too, Micel thought, as it annoyed him to look foolish in his ignorance of Plyzons. Or any other vehicle ever flown.
The car in front of him, a silver Vespar model, inched ahead. That model could do 300 mph easily without engine failure, despite the years it had on it. Micel slowly waved his hand over the touch pad, and allowed the Plyzon to follow behind, then stopped again. ”Make sure it’s in park always when you’re stopped,” he heard his boss’ stern instructions from a meeting earlier. Military like, though his boss was former drill instructor. Micel didn’t bother inquire around to gather any details. ”If I don’t see it in park, I’m kicking you outta here.” Most of the drivers knew better to follow that simple rule, but not everyone did. Micel found he did so as a habit. A good driver despite his lack of knowledge about cars.
Micel heard the rapid flow of the Auctioneer’s voice in fast forward human speech asking for prices. A loud honking noise acknowledged the bids was the voice of an actual human there to take bids but mostly for any car questions the dealers had. He flew his car through the entryway into the auction hall before stopping a few feet between the exits. A glaring white light which came from the entrance washed over him as he drove indoors, almost as if he did a time-jump in front of him. Materialized out of that light it seemed suddenly people surrounded him on each side. That was strange, he thought. Maybe a malfunction in the lightening system.
The Plyzon made a whirring noise before hovering silently in place where the humming off it was almost silent. Micel watched the assistant pointing and honking in unison at the winning bidders. The screens above ran the asking price of 5,500 chips. It lasted a few seconds before large SOLD scrolled across the screen and the assistant knocked loudly on the Plyzons hood. He awaited that
knock each time in order to move each car, to fly it back on its way to the lot.
Alright, Micel thought. Another one down, half a lot to go. I wonder if I’m even close to being done. He clicked the gear lock from STASIS to MOTION and drove the Plyzon down the lane and back towards the lot.
GLOSSARY
Flotsim ore- a primary ingredient that works with magnetized metals to aid in hovering.
