The First Ride
Kurrrrr.
The engine of Dong-ja and Marie's research lab hummed along with all its might today as well. Small, but not a single flaw in sight, anywhere.
"Hmm... you know, I think we should try building some kind of vehicle."
"With something this small, what could we possibly make?"
"I bet we could get a bicycle moving, at least."
"A bicycle? That heavy thing?"
Bicycles had been around in Daehan for quite a while. The problem was that people used them for exercise, so nobody bothered making them lightweight. When cyclists showed off their bikes to one another, the bragging was always about whose was heavier. In a nation of muscle-bound cyclists, raw strength was measured by how much iron you could peddle down the road.
"What if we used piping to make it a bit lighter? That might work."
"I don't think people are going to like that..."
In any other country, the idea would be shrugged off entirely, but here in Daehan, mishandled, this was the kind of proposal that could spark open resistance. They would have to approach it carefully.
"Well, this would be for transportation. Shouldn't we treat it differently from exercise equipment?"
Dong-ja offered the thought cautiously, a faint worry creasing his face — but Marie, it seemed, was already sold.
"Mm! I like it! I'll go find out what kind of light, strong piping we have and come right back."
"Yes! Please do!"
So Dong-ja returned to his blueprints, and Marie headed out in search of suitable materials.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
His pen flew across the page. The design taking shape was a two-wheeled vehicle built around a bicycle frame, its rider enclosed on all sides — closer to an automobile than anything else.
Rumble. Thunk.
Marie burst through the lab door, hauling a cart behind her.
"Honey! I'm back, and I've got it!"
"Whoa — Marie! What is all this?"
Whip!
The cart was piled high with something or other, and curiosity got the better of Dong-ja. He hurried over and asked. Marie gave a sly smile, whipped off the cloth covering her haul, and began proudly displaying her spoils of war.
"Ta-da!"
"Hmm? What is all this?"
The cart held not just pipes but all manner of things, including a set of pitch-black objects that looked suspiciously like wheels.
"Hehehe."
"Wasn't it heavy?"
"Try lifting one of the pipes."
If the cart had been packed to the brim, even she would have struggled — yet she looked completely unbothered.
Clack.
"Huh? Why is this so light?"
"And strong, too!"
"At this weight, it might actually be worth a try."
Hefting the pipe and gauging it in his hands, Dong-ja decided she had brought back absolutely perfect material. How on earth did she always read his mind like this? It was moments like these that made it impossible for him not to love Marie.
"Oh, and there's this too!"
"What is it? Wheels? They're awfully black, though?"
"It's a brand-new rubber, made for wheels!"
"Rubber?"
He'd only ever known rubber as shoe soles or the elastic bands people wore at their waists, so this was entirely new to him. After all, even carriages still ran on wooden or iron wheels.
"They just finished developing it, and they told us to be the first to try it out. In exchange, they want a full report on the pros and cons."
"Perfect! Let's get building right away! Thank you!"
Mwah! Mwah!
Even the sacred workshop could not hold back the couple's saccharine assault. Side by side at their workbench, husband and wife bent over the blueprints once more — showering each other with kisses all the while...
Over the course of a week, the couple produced a single work of art. They built the body's skeleton out of gleaming pipe and distributed the engine, storage battery, generator, and fuel tank to every corner of it — something did seem to be missing, but they'd arranged it all very neatly indeed. And then, incredibly, they had connected the rear wheel with a chain and sprockets.
"Hmm. Looks good, doesn't it?"
"I feel like we've forgotten something... hmm..."
Marie couldn't shake the nagging unease. She was sure they'd put everything in, and yet it felt as though something crucial had slipped her mind. Try as she might, however, she simply couldn't place it.
"Shall we give it a ride?"
"I suppose so."
"Let's go together!"
"What if something happens and we can't help each other?"
"If you die, I die too! We die together or not at all!"
"*Ahem*..."
Couldn't one of them just carry some Holy Water and follow along? That way, nobody would have to die, surely.
"Honey! Let's go!"
"Fine, fine!"
The two of them climbed onto the bicycle together — and, whether by instinct or design, they'd made the saddle extra long. Dong-ja settled in at the front with the grim resolve of a man marching to his fate.
"Honey, get behind me—"
"Ah..."
She could have just sat in the back. But no — Marie had to squeeze herself in front of Dong-ja, as was her custom.
"Sweetheart, if you sit like that, then..."
"Just drive..."
When it was time to work, he wanted nothing more than to do only work...
"All right, let's fire her up."
Click.
Dong-ja flipped the starter switch with total confidence.
Kukukukuku.
And the engine started beautifully. Almost too easily. There was no clutch or anything of the sort — really, even a simple fuel regulator would have saved them.
"WAAAAAGH!"
"KYAAAAAH!"
Crash-bang-clatter!
The sudden surge of full power hit the rear wheel drive, the front wheel shot up into the air, and the bicycle launched over them, flipping head over heels. Thanks to the protective frame they'd built around it like an automobile's body, the two of them very nearly escaped serious injury — very nearly.
"*Pant*... *pant*... Marie! Are you okay?!"
"Yes! I'm fine! Are you?!"
"Ah... thank goodness. I'm okay too."
With their hearts hammering out of their chests, the couple simply lay sprawled on the ground for a good while.
Kukukukuku. Kuruuurk.
As they lay there side by side, blinking dully at the sky, the only sound reaching their ears was the engine coughing and dying — the fuel tank had tipped over, cutting off the supply.
"We'll need to be more careful..."
"Yes. We should make protective gear — something like thick padded clothes."
"Good idea. I'll work on a way to control the output, and a mechanism for it."
"Okay..."
For all their talk, the shock had clearly been too great — the two of them just lay there, dazed. That day would stay with them for the rest of their lives. Then again, at least the crash hadn't happened out on the open road. Small mercies.
Their bicycle, you see, had no brakes. No fuel cutoff, nothing. Had it careened outside, the only options would have been to smash into something or ride straight ahead until the tank ran dry.
"Oh, I'm dying..."
"Me too..."
Having made it back home, the couple took to their beds for a full day. The shock had ravaged body and mind alike, and no medicine in Daehan could cure that.
"To think something that little had that much power..."
"You startled me too, you know..."
"We really have to be careful from now on..."
"Yes."
Somewhere along the way, "researcher" had become a profession as dangerous as sailor or soldier, and neither of them could quite pinpoint when it had happened.
The next morning, the couple dragged their aching bodies out of bed — Dong-ja to revise the design, Marie to begin sewing their outfits. Two sets of clothes, apparently, since they intended to ride together again.
Whether it was the lingering emotional trauma or an obsessive commitment to thorough preparation, nearly a month passed before the couple mounted the bicycle again.
Gulp...
"I'm ready."
"I'm not..."
Iron helmets borrowed from the lab on their heads, leather garments lined with thick cotton padding on their bodies, the two of them took their places on the saddle with grim determination.
Whew. Whew.
Dong-ja took deep, steadying breaths. The bicycle before them looked different from last time — there was now a throttle, and brakes were visible as well. They had prepared quite thoroughly, it seemed. All that remained was to steel their hearts.
"If you're nervous, would you like to touch my chest?"
Ahem. Ahem.
Comfort measures available only to married couples.
Squish-squish.
Naturally, the effect was tremendous.
"All right, let's head out."
"Relax. We're just going slow, that's all."
"Right!"
Click.
Fortified by Marie's encouragement, Dong-ja turned the starter lever.
Ku... ku... ku... ku...
Unlike last time, the engine note came sputtering along with a distinctly anemic pulse.
"Oh?"
"It's not stalling even at this low speed? That's a little reassuring!"
"Me too! All right, then — pulling out slowly!"
"Okay! Go!"
And he began, little by little, to release the clutch he'd been holding in.
Lurch... lurch...
The bicycle crept forward as if it couldn't decide whether to move at all.
"Come on, let it out a little more. Don't be scared!"
"Okay!"
And so the clutch released, gradually, further and further.
Dddddd.
The ride was still rough — no suspension yet, after all — but the bicycle began to roll forward.
"Whoa! It's moving!"
"We're going nice and slow!"
"Ahahaha!"
Out past the factory gates, the couple began, bit by bit, to pick up speed.
"Whazzat? What's that there?"
"Something out of the lab, maybe?"
"Looks like they're exercising — they're riding bicycles."
To the people who spotted the couple zipping around the research complex, the first assumption was simple exercise. After all, up until now, bicycles were obviously something you rode to build strength.
"But, wait? Something's off."
"What the? Where are the balance wheels?"
"How is that thing even moving?"
Ku... ku... ku... ku...
As the bicycle wove through the puzzled onlookers, the unmistakable sound of an engine reached their ears.
"Wait — is it running on an engine?"
"Insane! You're telling me they built an engine that tiny?!"
"What IS that thing! Hey! You two! Who are you?! What is that?!"
Everyone had assumed engines meant steam — huge, hulking steam engines. But these two had built one so small it fit on a bicycle, and were riding it together no less.
Urrrrrr.
Curiosity exploded, and the crowd began to run after the bicycle.
"What's going on?!"
"What's happening? Why is everyone stampeding like that?"
"A fire somewhere?!"
"Gah! Then let's go too!"
Behind the crowd chasing the engine came another crowd convinced some terrible disaster had occurred. The mob began to swell.
Dududududu.
As the crowd grew, so did the thunder of footfalls — a sound like a whole herd of stampeding cattle.
"Honey! What's wrong with those people?!"
"No idea! They've lost their minds, I think! I'm going faster!"
"Okay!"
"Hold on tight!"
Ku. Ku. Ku. Ku. Ku.
The engine wasn't exactly quiet, and with the wind roaring past, neither of them could hear a word the mob was shouting behind them — so the couple simply kept easing up the speed.
"Would you just STOP?!"
"We just want to TALK!"
And so began, out of nowhere, a high-noon chase scene. The pursuers ran with lungs about to burst and curiosity about to detonate; the pursued pressed on, hearts pounding, convinced they were being chased by lunatics. A truly bizarre sprint, all around.
"Yikes! Hold on tight!"
Kukukuku!
"KYAAAH!"
As the speed climbed and climbed, the gap finally widened beyond anything a running man could close.
Whooooosh.
Then, filling the couple's ears, came the rough song of the wind.
"Wah! Honey! This is so much fun!"
"The sound of the wind really is wonderful, isn't it?"
The air of an Earth still innocent of pollution seemed to wash the heart clean, cool and crisp.
"I feel like my whole chest just opened up!"
"Ah! Marie! Your clothes!"
"Huh? Eek!"
They'd come loose from all that earlier groping, and now the strengthening wind had blown them wide open. So that, perhaps, was why Marie's heart in particular felt so refreshingly cool.
The bicycle the couple rode was genuinely quick, and though it had no suspension, the rubber tires more than made up for it — the ride was surprisingly comfortable.
Kuruuurk.
But this was still a prototype with plenty of problems left to fix, and the engine — something clearly gone wrong with it — began to show signs of dying.
"Huh?"
"Why does it sound like that?"
"No! We can't walk all the way home!"
Dong-ja swerved around hastily and began heading back the way they'd come.
Kurureung.
And then the engine gave out for good.
"Ah..."
"Oh no..."
They couldn't just abandon it, which left exactly one option: pushing the thing all the way back to the lab. And it turned out the couple had come an awfully long way — much farther than they'd realized.
Squeak. Squeak.
Now the wheels were acting up too, emitting the strangest noises. The question was whether the couple would make it inside before nightfall.
"Sorry, honey. Making you do all the pushing."
"Don't apologize. I love doing things together with you."
"Haha. Thank you. I really don't know what I'd do without you."
"Same here~"
At this point, most couples would have had at least one proper fight — but the sugar kept pouring from these two, undiluted. Married two years now, and somehow still childless; truly a mystery for the ages.
It was past midnight by the time the couple finally made it back to the lab. Which might well have been for the best — the mob that had chased them had scattered long since.
"Uuugh... I feel a full-body fever coming on."
"Me too... Let's get inside and rest."
"Yeah."
Lightweight though it was, the machine remained a lump of iron. True, it had broken down midway and left them pushing it through the dark — but that ride of theirs would one day be remembered as a great, great step that changed the course of world history.