Nirvana Effect

27



Podo’s job was driver. He hadn’t gotten the hang of it, yet. He’d told the Messenger this, but Tomy wouldn’t hear it. Tomy the Messenger simply said that success was foreseen, so Podo could drive well enough.

Podo had mastered the accelerator, though. And he could hit the brakes. It was the steering and doing it all at the same time that had him worried.

Cars were such odd things. It didn’t make sense to him why one would want one car instead of horses or mules. The car only did what it was told. A horse or any sort of animal was much smarter. There was no training a car, only its rider. And animals were much cheaper.

He and his crew were parked on the side of the road in a beat-up white Toyota truck. They’d stolen it from the other side of town. The Messenger had told them to drive to the most eastern road on the outskirts of the city proper.

It was wartime, so no one spoke unless it had to do with the battle. It was quiet. It gave Todo time to practice spinning the steering wheel left and right. Cars passed occasionally. The odd pedestrian walked by, staring into the truck before turning his or her head when met with the Onge’s unified stares.

Finally, one of Podo’s crew tapped him on the shoulder. “He comes.” Podo jerked his head back. A strangely flat red car had pulled around a bend and was now approaching them rapidly. Podo slammed the gearstick into drive. The truck lurched forward. He heard a couple of his crew fall backwards into the trailer bed as he pulled onto the road.

The red car was coming quickly. It would take a god horse to keep up with it. Podo turned his truck sideways and hit the brakes, effectively blocking the road.

The car jerked to a halt just meters away. A white man was in the car. He wasted no time yelling gibberish and shaking his fist.

Podo nodded to Lew’tec, the Onge seated next to him. Lew’tec had a battle stick in his hand. On one end it was blunt like a baton, but on the other end it was sharp, with metal jutting out from the edge of the wood.

Lew’tec stepped out of the truck and approached the man in the car. The white man stopped shaking his fist and instead held out a hand. He suddenly became peaceful, even obsequious. He politely sounded out the same gibberish over and over again. It sounded like some sort of a question.

Once Lew’tec reached the driver’s side door, he knocked the white man over the head with the blunt end of the stick. The white man didn’t go out, even though the collision had made quite a thudding sound.

The man scampered to the passenger side of his car and tried to climb over the door. He was clawing to get away. He hadn’t panicked.

Lew’tec simply walked over to the other side of the car in a business-like manner and hit him over the head again. This time the white man dropped limp into the leather seats of his vehicle.