The neon lights flashed and flickered, giving the crowd surrounding the starting line the look of a rave. They were loud and staring, staring at the two machines crouched just behind the white line that had been hurriedly sprayed across the street. A light drizzle fell on the whole scene, making the dark pavement reflect the lights and faces, distorting them as the water trembled in time with the deafening music.
Laach gripped the steering wheel as his vehicle rumbled beneath him. Though the night was cool, sweat beaded his forehead and he nervously glanced to his left, to the vehicle sitting next to his, to the driver inside. The other driver caught his glance and smiled at him, a mocking, arrogant smile.
Kurt looked confident. Of course he did; he’d won every single ’scraper race he’d ever competed in. Laach jerked his head back around to face the front, nervously twisting his hands where they gripped the wheel. He had to win this match. If he did, the money he’d win would pay his sister’s trip up the gravity well to the habitats. There, she’d be able to go to school and have a better life.
If he lost, he’d lose his machine. His machine was everything to him. He had to win this match.
The flagger stepped out in front of them, tight vinyl suit hugging his every curve. Flag went up. Flag went down.
Laach stomped on the accelerator and grunted as he was slammed back into his seat. His machine’s engine growled, then whined as the RPMs shot up and it leaped forward. He held on for dear life, keeping the wheel straight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kurt was right there, right next to him, his own machine howling as he kept pace. Laach gritted his teeth in frustration, an angry, desperate growl escaping his lips. The low buildings flanking either side of the street flashed by, a stream of multicolored neon lights that blended into a rainbow as they reached 150 kph.
Suddenly, there it was, the end of the road. Laach pushed harder on the accelerator, trying to coax just a little more power from his machine as they both flashed to the edge. Then, both vehicles shot out over the side of the skyscraper, leaving the support of the solid street and entering the floating mag-lane. The mag-generators at the front and rear of his machine flared and buzzed with arcing energy as they created the vehicle’s magnetic field to latch onto the mag-lane.
His mag-gens had a little more lag than Kurt’s, and the other driver’s vehicle shot forward into the empty between scrapers. Laach watched Kurt pull away and something like panic bubbled up inside him, stealing his breath even as he wanted to scream and rail at Kurt, at his vehicle, at the mag-gens.
But, there wasn’t time for that. This was just the start; he still had time to catch Kurt, to pass him up. He focused on the arcing mag-gens at the back of Kurt’s machine. They arced with purple light, reaching out and snapping back as the vehicle screamed past the mag-buoys.
Laach’s own mag-gens crackled with blue light. The were slower to generate the field, but they were supposed to have a higher top speed. That might not matter so much, now, he thought, as Kurt’s vehicle started to pull away from his in the mag-lane. Not if I can’t catch him, anyway! With that thought, he stomped on the accelerator again, coaxing all the power he could from the reactor. He reached down and flipped a switch, turning off the restrictor built into the reactor, letting it run free.
His vehicle surged forward, his mag-gens flared and crackled blindingly, and the scream the vehicle had been making took on a note of agony. Laach gritted his teeth as he held onto the steering wheel, keeping the vehicle in the mag-lane, and swooping past Kurt.
“Hold together,” he prayed, glancing down at the displays on his dash. Most of them showed red or flashed warnings. “Hold together!”
He passed Kurt’s vehicle in a blink and rocketed towards the next skyscraper, where the race would end. With a grin, he flicked the restrictor back on, sighing with relief.
Nothing happened. The indicator next to the restrictor flashed yellow, then back to red. He flicked it off, then back on again. Again, the indicator flashed yellow, then back to red. It wouldn’t re-engage, and the agonized scream his vehicle made was turning desperate.
A mag-gen in the back of his vehicle exploded with a crack and bucked him to the side, sending his vehicle swerving down the mag-lane. “No. No!” he screamed as he fought the wheel for control. He could see the ’scraper approaching, he could see the last few mag-buoys between him and the edge. He had to make it!
The neon warning lights of the buoys flashed past him, one, then two as he fought for control. Another mag-gen sparked and arced and kicked him to the other side of the mag-lane, and he fought against that, too.
Third buoy. Fourth. The edge!
His vehicle crashed to the top of the ’scraper and slid across the spray-painted finish line just before Kurt’s vehicle flashed past him in a desperate attempt to win.
Laach climbed shakily out of his vehicle to the screams of the crowd. He’d done it. He’d beaten Kurt! And won the money to give his sister a new life. The crowd lifted him up, bouncing him on their shoulders as the organizer reached out and handed him his winnings.
As the crowd carried him around, he spotted Kurt, who was leaning against his own vehicle, watching. The other driver gave him a half-smile and saluted with one finger touching his brow. The arrogance was gone, replaced by an expression of grudging respect.
A laugh bubbled up from Laach’s chest and leaped out of his mouth.
“I did it!”
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