Hover Car Racer Part 30

THE INTERNATIONAL RACE SCHOOL HOBART, TASMANIA.

Jason returned to Race School to find that during his short absence, the world certainly hadn't stopped.

Lessons were still happening in cla.s.srooms; the pits rippled with practice sessions; cars darted every which way, shooming up the inland highways or whizzing around Storm Bay.

Since he was still barred from racing for a further two days, Jason was restricted to cla.s.sroom work only.

At his first lunchtime back, Ariel Piper sat down beside him.

'Hey! Look who's back!' she exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder. 'The only racer in the world crazy enough to eject downward! How're you feeling?'

'Better every day,' Jason said. 'Can't wait to get back out on the track.'

Ariel said, 'Hey, thanks again for letting me take on Fabian in that exhibition race. That was very cool of you.'

'I thought you deserved the chance to take him down.'

Ariel smiled. 'Jase. You can't imagine the impact that race has had on me...and on a lot of girls around the world. You should see the fan mail I've been receiving. Lot of chicks wanting to be racers. Lot of girls who were thrilled to see Fabian go down. It made an impact. Thanks for the opportunity.'

'No problem. I was happy just to get some peace and quiet to practise,' Jason said. 'Looks like you've been racing well back here, too. What are you on the Ladder now? 5th?'

'Yuh-huh.' Ariel grinned. 'One win, one second, and one seventh. 23 points in three races. That race against Fabian gave me my fire back. My desire. I'm coming 5th now, and the Top 4 beckons. I wanna go to New York.'

Jason nodded, saw the fire in her eyes. The old Ariel was back.

'Good for you,' he said.

As he spoke, he looked around the lunch hall, and noticed that a few new friendships seemed to have formed in his absence: Horatio Wong was sitting at Barnaby Becker's and Xavier Xonora's table. So was the young Mexican driver, Joaquin Cortez. At the moment, Xavier's mentor, Zoroastro, was talking to Wong and Cortez and the two lesser drivers were listening to him intently, occasionally nodding.

Ariel saw them, too. 'Yes, hmmm. Zoroastro and Barnaby Becker have been doing a lot of networking while you've been away. A lot. They had lunch with Wong and Cortez every day last week. I once even saw Zoroastro having dinner with your buddy, Isaiah Washington, one night.'

'What do you think it means?' Jason asked.

Ariel was silent for a moment.

Then she said seriously: 'We're coming to the business end of the season. Everything is up for grabs. The Championship is on the line. Four places in the New York Challenger Race are there to be won. Races are gonna get harder, too - longer, more challenging, more demanding. And don't forget that the last ten races are run under Pro Rules - demag strips everywhere, Dead Zones, driver-over-the-line finishes.

'We're entering a whole new world of racing, Jason, and I think Zoroastro and his boys are creating a few strategic alliances. I get the feeling Race School is about to get very, very serious.'

Ariel couldn't have been more right.

The next day, Jason sat in the stands with Sally and the Bug and watched Race 41. It was so frustrating, just watching, but fortunately this would be the last race they'd have to sit out. The doctors had given Jason the all-clear to race in Race 42.

Sitting with them was one other person: Dido. It turned out that the last few weeks of the Race School season coincided with her school holidays in Europe, so (at her parents' expense) she had come to Tasmania to support Team Argonaut.

True to Ariel's prophecy, Race 41 was a fiercely contested race - Race School had acquired a new level of intensity.

It was also Xavier Xonora's first School race since his impressive fourth placing in the Italian Run.

He didn't disappoint.

He won Race 41 convincingly, prompting many to say that racing at the pro level had steeled him, made him an even better racer than he already was - if that were at all possible.

After the race was over, Sally and the Bug headed off to get some dinner, discreetly leaving Jason and Dido alone in the grandstand.

'So,' Dido said, 'you must be busting to get back out there.'

'Yeah, I guess so,' Jason said.

Dido turned, surprised. 'You're not busting to get out there?'

'You wanna know something funny,' Jason said. 'I've never been afraid of getting inside a hover car in my life...until now.'

Dido frowned, but didn't speak.

Jason looked away, biting his lip, as if he was deciding whether or not to reveal more.

He took the plunge.

'Everyone a.s.sumes that I'm fearless, Dido. That I'm not afraid of the high speeds, and that I just can't wait to get back out on the racetrack. But I'm not fearless. I never was. It's fear that creates adrenalin and it's adrenalin that makes me a good racer. But right now, I'm scared. Dead scared of getting back in the Argonaut.'

'What do you mean?'

'Every night I have nightmares, nightmares about my tailfin exploding or some other racer swiping it off during a race, causing me to lose control and crash. Now, I've crashed before, lots of times, but every time I crashed in the past, I knew why. But in Italy, I lost my tailfin for no reason that I can figure out. I lost control and I don't know why.

'I used to love the speed, love racing. But now...now I'm not so sure. I'm terrified of getting in that car again, and even more terrified that I'll fail and let my family and my team-mates down.' He turned to her. 'Dido, what happened in Italy changed me. I'm not sure I can be the racer I was before Italy.'

Dido looked at him closely.

Then she gently grabbed his hand. 'You know, my uncle once told me something about heroes: a hero is not a person who doesn't get afraid. No. A hero is a person who takes action even when they are afraid. Don't put too much pressure on yourself, Jason. Take it slowly; one step at a time. And know this. I think you can do it.'

And with that, she leaned forward quickly and kissed him on the cheek.

Then she dashed off, dancing down the stairs of the grandstand, leaving Jason delightfully stunned by her kiss.

CHAPTER FIVE.

RACE 42 (SUPERSPRINT).

RACETIME: 29 MINS 32 SECONDS.

LAP: 29 OF 50.

On Lap 29 of Race 42, as they both shot down the southern coastline of Tasmania at full speed, Horatio Wong cut wildly - and inexplicably - across Jason's rearend and smashed clean through his tailfin, blasting it into a thousand pieces and thus causing Jason to lose all control of the Argonaut, just like in the Italian Run.

It was loss-of-control at 795 km/h.

That Wong had been a full lap behind Jason at the time and completely out of the race made it worse. He should have just made way for the Argonaut to pa.s.s. Instead, he hit Jason square on the tailfin.

Wong flailed away to the left, but pulled up safely in a Dead Zone.

Jason, however, veered right and down, rushing down toward the ocean waves, terrified.

He grappled with his steering wheel, but to no avail. He kicked his thrusters, trying to steer that way - and somehow managed to run the Argonaut over a full line of demag lights, thus diminishing its magnetic power.

The Argonaut's power drained fast and it slowed and a quick burst from its left thruster caused it to fishtail to a skidding halt a bare foot above the waves.

Other cars boomed past it, shaking the air.

The Bug and Sally were shouting in Jason's earpiece - but all Jason could do was sit there and stare forward and swallow hard.

He looked at his hands.

They were shaking terribly.

When the Argonaut returned to the pits, towed by a recovery vehicle, Jason saw Scott Syracuse standing in front of Horatio Wong, letting him have it: ' - what the h.e.l.l was that! Straight section of track and you suddenly lose control...and you take out his tailfin perfectly!'

'I just lost control, sir,' Wong shrugged, looking down. 'Lost my steering and never saw him there. I can't explain it.'

'You just lost control. Lost your steering. Never saw him.' Syracuse shook his head with disgust. 'I'm not so sure about any of that, Mr Wong. Get out of my sight.'

Wong stalked off, glaring darkly at Syracuse.

Sally came over to Jason, who was still badly shaken. Jason said, 'What's going on?'

'Syracuse just went ballistic at Wong for hitting you,' Sally whispered.

'But it was an accident,' Jason said. 'At least, it looked like one.'

Sally said, 'Syracuse didn't think it was an accident at all. When it happened, he was standing next to me, watching on the monitor. He said it was a cla.s.sic pro tactic: when a young racer is coming back from a bad accident and his self-confidence is shaky, you hit him in a similar way on his return race - and thus crack his fragile confidence. It's a tactic designed for one purpose: to put a young racer out for good.'

'But Wong also put himself out of the race by doing it,' Jason said, perplexed.

'That's what p.i.s.sed Syracuse off the most. Wong was the patsy, the junior guy who did the deed and took the fall - someone with pro experience told him to take you out. That's why Syracuse was chewing out Wong. He reckons Wong was doing someone else's dirty work.'

Jason looked over at the departing Wong, and thought about his new dining companions.

Sally put her arm around his shoulder. 'Confidence hits. Geez. Those sort of tricks aren't gonna be a problem with you now, are they? Jason Chaser, Superstar of the Sponsors' Tournament, Hero of Italy, little guy with nerves of pure steel. Like you'd ever have a confidence problem.'

Jason didn't reply.

He just hid his shaking hands.

CHAPTER SIX.

Jason had two days till he had to race again.

And he was absolutely dreading the prospect of it. Whoever had told Wong to take out his tailfin had been smart.

ery smart. Because it had worked.

Going into Race 42, Jason's confidence had been wavering, not that he'd dare tell anybody in his team or family. And losing control in exactly the same way as he'd lost it in Italy had totally freaked him out.

He didn't want to tell the Bug or Sally that he was losing it. Didn't want them to think he was somehow a lesser driver. Nor did he want to confide in his parents: they got such a buzz out of his achievements, he didn't want to disappoint them by revealing his fears.

That was the bonus of having Dido around - she was sort of external, not a family member or a team-member.

She didn't have any expectations. She just liked him for who he was.

They met each other for lunch the next day, at a coffee shop not far from the Race School.

Jason got there early, and was already sitting at a table when Dido arrived.

And then a strange thing happened.

Barnaby Becker walked into the shop at the exact same moment Dido did, and as he stepped up to the takeaway counter, he checked her out.

Jason was sitting close enough to hear every word of the ensuing conversation: Barnaby said, 'Hey there, cutie. You're the chickie who's been hanging out with little Chaser, aren't you?'

'Yes, so?' Dido had replied.

'So. You ever want to go out with a real man, Becker's the name, give me a call.'

Dido had snuffed a laugh. 'That's a very nice offer, but I don't like Neanderthals. I like cultured and courageous young men. Men like Jason. Good-bye.'