The Merworld Water Wars - Finned Part 27

"There's a certain invisible pull between the track and the mermobile, enabling them to race as they would in your world. There are times when they will glide...and soar...and slide."

"This I have to see."

"And now for our command, please welcome the Gulf's most winning racer, R.D. Hart!" said Meric.

"Gentlemen, START YOUR MERLORS!" shouted R.D. Hart in one heck of a hearty voice.

"Merlor?" I asked.

"Well, we don't use engines. Merlors are fueled by a combination of crushed sh.e.l.ls and belief," whispered Treeva.

"Belief?" Am I ever going to stop asking questions?

"The driver must believe in the mermobile...and his own abilities."

"Troy shouldn't run out of fuel, then," I mused.

"No, he certainly shouldn't," said Treeva, beaming. "Better strap in," she added, fastening a silver belt across her middle. "Want to hear commentary from the booth? I have it turned off, but we can turn it on if you like."

Strapping myself in, I replied, "Sure."

"The pacer will pull off on this next turn, and then we're ready to go racing, boys!" said one of the announcers. "This race is going to be especially tricky since the new track tricks were installed. Elad, you drove this track not long ago. What do you think about the new tricks?"

"Aw, man, Kram, you know as well as I do how d.a.m.n tough it's gonna be...and I know you're wishin', like me, to be out there," said Elad.

"We'll have to see those new tricks first! Then I'll let you know if I miss being out there," said Kram to a chorus of laughs.

"Um, Treeva, what do they mean by tricks?" I asked warily.

"Ooh, look, they're coming to the start/finish," she said, patting my hand, totally evading the question.

Rolling my eyes, my gaze fell upon the roaring mermobiles heading straight for us.

"Pull those belts tight! In honor of a former racer...moolity, moolity, moolity, let's go racing, boys!" said Kram cheerily.

Forty-two mermobiles zoomed by us like tangible thunder, and I quickly understood the need for belts. With every turn they made on the track, the stadium seats tilted up, down, and sideways, so we never missed a single moment.

"You okay?" asked Treeva.

"Awesome with a hearty helping of fricking! It's like a crazy park ride. They should totally have these in my world!" I shouted over the insane noise.

"Kyle Zale immediately takes the lead. He's got some mad skills," said Kram.

"Mad skills...and a born jacka.s.s," Elad added.

"Um, uh, well, there's young Troy Tombolo right on his tail," said Kram.

"There's a kid with mad skills...minus the jacka.s.s," said Elad.

"But Kyle is really moving. His mermobile looks a little loose coming out of turn two, but most of them look like they're having some handling issues...except Tombolo. He has a rocket," said Kram. "And he takes the lead from Kyle!"

"Banger, Banz, and Dweeller round out your top five. So far, it's a two-man race between young Tombolo and the seasoned Kyle Zale, who has just retaken the lead. Tombolo's not going to give it up that easy! Don't these guys know we have two hundred and fifty laps to go?!" said Elad.

Troy and Kyle exchanged the lead every other lap. The other racers were hardly a factor.

"Heckuva fake-out move by Tombolo to get around Kyle, but Zale is visibly unhappy-here he comes on the inside of Tombolo-they cross the start/finish neck-and-neck-it's Tombolo who edges Kyle to lead that lap, but back comes Kyle, now Tombolo, now Kyle-wait, the track is changing...snow...we have snow! The drivers must shape-shift their mermobile's undersides to slide in and out of the corners. Elad?"

"Yeah, Kram, watch Tombolo...watch how he uses the jagged undersides for the straight-aways, then shape-shifts his mermobile into a sled-like underbelly for the corners-"

"Oh! Clive spins and flips! Full course caution," said Kram.

"How do they change the track to have snow?" I asked.

"Weather mermaids."

"Of course." Stupid me, I should know there's a mermaid for every occasion.

As Troy described, the pit boxes soared up out of the trenches and crew members zoomed around, working feverishly to make adjustments.

"Refuel here, guys?" asked Kram.

"Yeah, doesn't hurt. Add a little more sh.e.l.l, maybe add a figment and blazer," said Elad.

"A figment? Think they need it, Noty?" asked Kram, trying to engage the very quiet third announcer.

"Well-f, swure. Whfat da heel."

"Noty Proctor. He's a good time kind of guy. I used to have quite a fin flippin' time with him. We love him," said Treeva.

"Great pit stop for Tombolo. He exits pit road in first place after taking a figment and a blazer. For those who don't know what those functions do-a figment is a tool you use to get past a trick," said Kram.

"And a blazer is two-fold. On the one hand, it makes your mermobile go really fast, but on the other, it sends a cloud of sand in the face of your compet.i.tors. Kinda like the old saying, eat my dust," said Elad, laughing.

"We're back to green beam racing," said Kram.

After countless cautions, twelve wrecked mermobiles, ten evil hag obstacles, eight swinging tentacles, five giant electric eels, three ma.s.sive shark's teeth, two miscues by Troy's spotter, and a partridge in a pear tree, we were down to just five laps remaining in what has been the most exciting race of my life.

"Green beam! Green beam! Kyle quickly takes the lead-whoa, dangerous slide into turn one for Tombolo-Kyle's pulling away, but the track is changing again-collapsible track pits-Kyle skillfully uses the uplift to send him over the first hole in the track, but Tombolo...doesn't see the hole!"

"Aw, man, that's a shame," said Elad. "Full course caution. Tombolo's done."

"What?" I exclaimed, while Treeva rattled off a string of four-letter words.

I quickly used my mirmagbinio to listen in on Troy.

"What are you doing up there, Malgore? Scratching your a.s.s?" screamed Troy.

"Sorry, just didn't see it," said another voice, I a.s.sumed was his spotter, Malgore.

"You don't miss holes, mother-eff," said Tank. "Listen, Troy, we can fix this. You'll just have to move through the field like a crazed squid. We'll get you out before the pacer, but you'll have to haul it. Got me, kid?"

"10-4."

"Treeva, where are the spotters?"

"On the crater rims. Malgore is directly opposite us in the blue cap, p.i.s.s-yellow fin."

I magnified his face with my mirmagbinio. I didn't like him. I hated him. Yeah, that reaction scared the c.r.a.p out of me. Hesitantly, I pushed the purple b.u.t.ton.

"I can go west, gamble in the Pacific. That's loads of money, man. Maybe I'll get a wife...maybe a few. Zale money. Ain't it great," said Malgore's true reflection.

"Malgore's throwing the race! He's been paid off by Zale!"

"What? Marina, no, he's been Troy's spotter for years. He made a mistake, that's all," said Treeva.

"Look," I said, handing her the mirror.

"Not something I want to do, but, hey, the bonus I get if Tombolo dies...it's worth that kind of money."

Treeva and I exchanged horrified looks.

"He's trying to get my brother killed! I'll be d.a.m.ned if I let that happen." I never thought Treeva could get so irate.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"We stop the little p.r.i.c.k."

"Strands! Take us to Malgore, spotter for Troy Tombolo," I said.

Treeva smiled at my take-charge att.i.tude; little did she know how terrified I felt. The strands grabbed us and zipped us up over the racing mermobiles.

"Tombolo is making his way through the field, but with only four laps to go, it looks like Zale is going to win this one-three laps remaining-Tombolo's up to tenth...eighth...sixth..."

"Crash off turn two, Kram! Banz and Rool were late in jumping those holes, and Rool just couldn't hold his line, like always...took me out a time or two," Elad groaned. "Caution, folks."

Treeva and I were flying higher and higher until we landed on either side of an unsuspecting Malgore.

"Tree, um, hey, what are you doing all the way up here on the rim?" he asked, squirming. "Who've ya brought? The Normal?"

"The Normal has a name, and it's Marina. And I have a brother I won't let die. Tell me Malgore, how much did the Zale's promise you to throw this race?" said Treeva through clenched teeth.

"What? Shoot, Tree, I don't know what you're-"

"And how much more to kill him?"

Malgore's face drained of color; his p.i.s.s-yellow fin even turned pale.

"You know what I'm capable of..." whispered Treeva, grabbing his neck.

"No!" he shouted, dropping his red earpiece and jetting off into the darkness.

"Take over, Marina!" yelled Treeva, moving at an unfathomable speed after him.

The earpiece looked like one of those twisty straws from my childhood, but with a curved tail. When I lifted the curly part closer to my ear, I heard Troy's frustrated voice.

"Mal, you there? Dude, I need you! Where the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Um, well, I'm here, but I'm not Mal, and I'm not a dude," I said, fitting the twisty part to my ear and pulling the curved bottom to my lips.

"Marina? What's going on? Where's Tree? How'd you get up there?"

"Long story. Basically, Malgore was working for Zale, Treeva's gone all super-heroine, and I'm your spotter."

"Holy sh-"

"Sharks? I'm sure that's what you were going to say."

"Oh, the h.e.l.l it was! You're my eyes, and you have no idea what you're doing! What the h.e.l.l are we going to do?!" he shouted.

"Well, for starters, we're going to win this d.a.m.n race."

After a moment of nothing, he calmly said, "I think you are seriously turning me on right now."

I giggled. d.a.m.n, that giggle totally spoiled my I'm-such-a-cool-relaxed-chick-in-a-man's-job vibe.

"Okay. We're going green beam this next time by," I said, my palms clammy. "Green, green, green, green-you're in third, two laps to go-watch the seven, he can't hold the high line-hole just before turn three-go soaring...now! Nice move past the seven! You're second, Troy, last lap-squid tentacle out of turn two-figment it! YES, it disappeared! Half a lap left, Troy...blazer his b.u.t.t...NOW!"

"They're coming to the finish! Kyle, Tombolo, Kyle, Tombolo, Kyle...TOMBOLO wins!" screamed Elad.

"YOU WON!" I jumped on the screaming bandwagon.

"WE won," he said. "You're a born spotter."

"Nah, just watch a lot of racing."

"Want me to come get you, so we can party in winner's circle?"

"Oh, I'm thinkin' so, yeah!"

"I'm on my way."

I stood calm and proud, waiting to see Troy heading my way. Raucous cheering, singing, and wild laughter electrified the stadium; I could even see fans waving their Tombolo flags. The excessive happiness seemed to float on the ripples as I awaited Troy.

"Here he comes now...and he's bringing six racers with him. Okay, weird. Could they move any faster? He really should slow down...a lot. He's going to freaking hit me!"

I noticed the noises in the stadium had changed. The singing, cheering, and laughing had become terrified screams. Merps desperately fled the stadium, escaping something that moved violently through the stands, something emitting purple flashes of light.

"My G.o.d," I whispered. Part of that something terrorizing the fans was heading straight for me.