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Skyriders Part 2

By Spacewarp All Rights Reserved ©

Scifi

In The Beginning

It was at one of Brian's parties, I remember. The first time I saw him, I mean. It was about 2 in the morning, something like that. There was about six or seven die-hards still crammed into the living room. Melted candles everywhere, and you couldn't hardly move for beer-cans and bottles.

I was on the sofa, wedged between Ginger and Daz. Ginger was busily trying to explain quantum mechanics to Debbie (who knew all about it anyway, but was either too polite, or too pissed, to say anything). Daz was snoring on my shoulder. Daz is a martyr to Gold Label.

I hadn't had that much to drink, but I was nicely stoned, and I had just figured it was probably time to get up and go for a piss, or go home...or both. And so I started to ease Daz off my shoulder without waking him, when I heard boots in the alleyway.

As I finally climbed to my feet there was a gust of cold air from the kitchen, and I looked up to see a helmeted figure standing there.

My first thought was He's wearing a green leather. Never see one of those before. Where the hell did he get it? as he stood in the doorway and looked around him. Finally he came to a decision and slowly started unstrapping his crash-hat.

Brian looked up blearily from the floor, where he'd been feeding Debbie's stereo with endless Hawkwind CDs, and grinned (as long as I can remember, all Brian's parties have ended up the same - Hawkwind and more Hawkwind, and everyone too stoned to object).

“Ady, you old bugger!” he said, “Where you been? Missed a good party!”

Well at that moment the full-face helmet came off, and a mop of black hair tumbled out onto the guy's shoulders, and I got my first real look at him.

Hmmm…he's a bit of alright! was my next thought, as he stepped carefully over all the legs and squatted down next to Brian. He was about five foot ten, well-built but thin. You know, sort of wiry. I stood there and wobbled, the loo temporarily forgotten, as he started chatting to Brian.

I remember thinking that I'd never seen such a weird face before. Weird and interesting. At first sight he looked Japanese, but then his skin was quite dark, almost Asian. Very strong features, high cheekbones. Native American? No, his skin wasn't red. In the end I gave up. In fact, to this day, I couldn't say what nationality he was. He was sort of a mixture of everything.

At this point, Brian seemed to suddenly notice me standing there, and grinned up at me.

“You alright, Sonya? Not gonna puke, are yer?” Brian has such a...Southern way of putting things.

The other guy turned and looked at me as well, and for a moment I couldn't say anything. Definitely not Native American. Deep blue eyes.

I shook myself mentally and smiled back. “Just going to the bathroom.”

The two of them nodded and turned back to their conversation, so I headed for the loo. I figured when I got back, maybe I'd stay a bit longer, get to talk to this “Ady”. He looked interesting.

Well alright, so he looked a bit tasty too. So sue me.

Well, as it turned out I did have the runkers after all, and threw up in the pan. Dope and booze gets me that way sometimes. As I was washing my hands and splashing my face I heard footsteps outside the bathroom.

“Hang on!” I called “I'll be out in a sec!”

The footsteps paused, then a voice with the oddest accent I've ever heard said “No, that's alright. I'm off anyway.”

I almost yanked the door off its hinges, and there he stood, helmet back on, just tightening the strap.

He winked at me as I stood there with my mouth stupidly open, said “Be seeing you.”, and stepped out into the yard. By the time I got my act sufficiently together to follow him, he was halfway up the alleyway. I chased after him, like the dumb female I am, but by the time I got out into the street he was already on his bike, with the engine going.

“Hey! What's your name?” I yelled as he swung the bike out onto the road, but he didn't even look back as he roared up the street.

Bugger! Well, I'd just have to ask Brian who he was. I'd have to put the question carefully though, I thought, as I walked back into the kitchen. I mean, it wasn't as if I fancied the guy or something, it was just curiousity. Yeah. Sure!

Of course, when I got back in, Brian was out like a light, snoring fit to wake the dead. Well, fit to wake Daz anyway, who was now sitting up blinking through his beard (Daz's face is practically all beard).

Somebody, trying to roll a joint, looked up from the floor and told me to “shut the fookin' door, yor blowin' the gear away!”

I sighed and went home.


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