Kyle Rasco's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Kyle Rasco had one year to win the interplanetary skateboarding championship, and today he could barely stay on his board. He crouched at the top of the ramp inside the domed skate arena. The floor below floated in shifting gravity. His wheels drifted, then dropped fast. He fell hard on his shoulder for the fourth time. Above him, the glass dome curved toward the planet's rings, where the real championship would happen on gravity that changed every second. He climbed back up, breathing rough. The championship winner earned a home on the rings. That was the whole reason Kyle came here. He didn't just want the trophy. He wanted a place to stop running, a place to build a life. His battered truck outside held everything he owned. He'd scavenged its panels one by one, painted his name across the tailgate. It got him here. It could not skate for him. Kyle pushed off again. The gravity flipped. His stomach lurched, and his board slid out from under him. He landed flat and lay staring up at the dome. "I can't read it," he said out loud. "The floor keeps lying to me." "Then stop watching the floor." The voice came from the entrance tunnel. A woman leaned against the archway, arms crossed. Dark wavy hair fell past her shoulders. A small ring caught the light at her nose. Tattoos ran down one arm. She wore a bright patterned dress and worn sandals, and she watched him like she'd been watching a while. Kyle sat up. "You a skater?" "No." She stepped onto the shifting floor without a wobble. Her feet found the change before it came. "But I feel where the pull goes. You're trying to see it. You have to feel it." He stood, wary. "And you just walked in to tell me that." She smiled. "I heard someone falling over and over. Figured he needed help or a witness." She held out a hand. "Alysse." He took it. Her grip was firm and warm. Something in his chest shifted harder than the gravity ever had. "Watch," she said. She walked a slow circle, closing her eyes, leaning early each time the floor turned. "Count the beat. It's not random. It breathes." Kyle stepped on his board. He closed his eyes like she'd shown him. The gravity dropped. This time he felt it a heartbeat before it hit. He leaned into it. His wheels held. He rolled clean across the floating floor for the first time, then opened his eyes, grinning wide. "There," Alysse said. He wanted to thank her. He turned, and she was already walking toward the tunnel. "Wait," he called. "Can you teach me the rest?" She paused at the archway. "I don't teach for free, cowboy. And I'm leaving this moon in three days." Then she was gone, and Kyle stood there knowing he'd just found both things he needed, and only three days to keep either one.