Continuance (30 page)

Ty clapped Jason
on the arm. “Don’t worry. Your mod doesn’t affect race regs, so you’re good to go.
Just make sure you invite me next time you go joyriding.” With a last grin for
Chaela, he climbed out. “Let’s get you numbered up.”

Ty opened a Velcro
pouch on the side of his pants, pulling out a handful of black disks the size
of quarters. He handed a pair to Jason. “Grab the hood and roof. I’ll get the
doors. Lucky number eight, right?”

“Right,” Jason
said.

Leaning over the
hood, he set one of the disks on its surface, centered over the subtle curve of
the hood scoop. Tapping and holding the top engaged the magnetic undersurface,
and an inset popped up to reveal the tiny lens of photoscreen projector. Rays
of light fanned out in a wedge, emblazoning the hood with a large number 8, yellow
flecked with bronze. The number seemed alive as the animated texture writhed
like drifting smoke over the black gloss of the hood. Jason liked the eight,
not so much for anything the number meant, but more for what it showed when
viewed from the side – the symbol of infinity. He placed the other disk on the
roof, and smaller copies appeared on the doors where Ty had set the others.

“You’re all set,”
Ty said. “Good luck out there, man.” He held out an upraised hand. “This is
gonna be sooo sweet!”

“Thanks.” Jason
clasped Ty’s hand, using it to pull him closer. “Have you seen anything weird
tonight? Anyone unusual?”

Ty looked
confused, then snorted a laugh. “Look around, man.
Everybody’s
unusual
here.” When Jason didn’t share the joke, he said, “You in some kind of trouble?”

Jason shook his
head. “Just let me know if you notice anything. You’ll know if you do.”

Jason’s plan was
simple – find the inhibitor the spiders planted, then let them succeed with
theirs. He’d be able to prove they’d set him up, falsified evidence. Then he
could use it as leverage to cut a deal. He’d keep quiet. They’d leave him
alone. Darren and Dr. Fairchild thought it was a risk, but Jason was tired of
hiding.

With only an
hour before his heat, he needed to get a look at Knight’s car to find the
inhibitor. Checking his assignment, he got back in the car and headed for his staging
slot. Half way there, Chaela pivoted in her seat, craning her head out the
window behind them.

Jason followed
her gaze. “What is it?” The only thing he could see was a pair of girls dancing
back-to-back on the hood of a Lexus V coupe. A crowd surrounded the car,
cheering them on.

Chaela stared
out the back a moment longer before turning back around. “Nothing.” She shook
her head, looking puzzled. “Just some guy.”

“Just some guy,
what?” Jason had learned better than to dismiss her sharp intuition.

“I don’t know.
From the way he moved his head, for a second I thought he was scanning us or
something, but when I turned around he was gone.” She gave a nervous laugh.
“I’m seeing things.” But she darted a quick glance over her shoulder again, then
locked her eyes on her hands in her lap.

They’re here.
Things would get
interesting soon.

Jason found his
assigned staging space at the end of a long row of plug-ins next to a familiar Tesla,
white trimmed in silver. Though he knew it from the run-in with Knight a few
days before, this was the first time he’d seen the car up close.

Emblazoned on
the rear quarter panel, a warrior in plate mail sat astride a winged white
horse, the visor of his helmet shaped like a shining skull. His lance, thrust
forward in mid-charge, ran along the length of the car, ending in a gleaming
metal point behind the headlamps. A coat of arms adorned the hood in the form
of a shield sectioned into quarters. Two opposite corners showed the skull
visor with glowing eyes, while the other two sported mud flap-girl silhouettes
wearing conical princess hats, complete with streamers. The hood sat propped
open, showing off the motor assembly beneath.

Chaela stood
next to him, looking at Knight’s car. “Never thought I’d say it, but your
ride’s looking kind of plain.”

Parked next to
it, the black on black of the M3 could have simply been the Tesla’s shadow. Jason
slipped on his smartglasses.
Now to find that inhibitor.
“Plain suits me
fine.”

“Doesn’t look
like that to me.”

Jason turned to
see a tall girl rounding the hood of the M3, looking at Chaela. Her long black
hair stopped just above the waist of her form-fitting black pants. Strappy
heels made it so she barely had to look up to lock eyes as she stopped in front
of him. “I wondered if you might be here tonight,” she said.

Searching his
memory, her name came to him just in time. “Katelynn.” The last time he’d seen
her was in his bedroom, the morning before the first day of class. Just before he’d
walked out the door and never spoken to her again.

“Who’s your
friend?” Katelynn asked.

Chaela stood
close by, watching the exchange, cool blue eyes taking in the pair of them.
Jason didn’t buy the indifference she seemed to be selling.
She’s probably thinking
about that rope tied to the bumper again.
He nodded in her direction. “This
is Chaela. She’s at Everton, too. Same major.”

“Ahh,” Katelynn
said. “Another lab rat. Kindred spirits.”

“I don’t know
about that,” Chaela said. “I’m not really into the whole car thing.” She waved
a finger at the spectacle around them.

“Really? But Jason
got you into this one.” She trailed a finger along the hood of the M3. “Has he
shown you the entertainment system yet?”

Chaela gave
Jason a questioning look. “Not yet.”

Katelynn raised
an eyebrow. “Too bad. You know, the best view is really from the back seat.”

Chaela’s indifference
melted, and an edge crept into her voice. “I wouldn’t know. I get to ride up
front like a big girl.” She shot Jason a glare, then strode over to Katelynn, planting
herself not five inches from her face. Katelynn seemed amused until Chaela
grabbed her wrist, holding it firm. Jason took as step forward, suddenly afraid
he’d have to break up a fight.

But Chaela
simply pressed something into Katelynn’s palm, closing the other girl’s hand
around it. “I think you should have this.”

Katelynn opened
her palm to reveal a crumpled admission ticket.

Jason opened his
mouth to protest, but Chaela cut him off. “Front section, right? Good. She should
have a great view when you crash and burn.” She brushed past Katelynn, headed
for the exit.

He opened his
mouth to call after her, to apologize, but bit the words off. It felt like
biting his heart out of his chest, but it was safer for her not to be around
right now. He should have been strong enough to keep her away in the first
place. And it would be better if she were angry at him if things didn’t go well
tonight.

As Chaela
disappeared into the crowd, he spared a glare for Katelynn before moving over
to peer under the hood of the Tesla. He was running out of time. As he looked
over the motor and the surrounding leads and coils, she drew close and
whispered in his ear. “You should thank me. I just did you a favor.”

“Oh, really?” His
scowl deepened at her tiny, satisfied smile.

“She’s not right
for you. Besides, you deserved it.” The smile turned into a smirk. “And you
know it.”

She’s right.
I did
deserve it.
He hoped she wasn’t right about the first part as well. Rather
than rise to the bait, he ignored her, eyeclicking to activate the scanning script
he’d loaded on his AP. With the program running, his smartglasses showed the
hardware under the hood in false color. Red would indicate the waveform inducer
of the inhibitor, but all Jason saw was a mix of greens and blues.

“Why so interested
in the competition?” Katelynn asked. “It’s not like you to be paranoid about another
driver. Even if he is likely to beat you.”

Jason paused his
inspection to look back at her. “And why is that?” As he recalled, Katelynn did
have an eye for the techie side of the scene. More than just stat savvy when it
came to cars, she also knew what it took to drive them.

With a shrug,
she pulled a glowing red cylinder from a velvet clutch. She ran it across
puckered lips, using the Tesla’s tinted windows for a mirror. “I’ve seen this
car run. It’s faster than anything you’ve ever gone up against.” A beam of
light from the cylinder traced the outline of her lips as she applied the
laserstick to touch up the color. “I don’t think that gorgeous dinosaur of
yours can keep up. Not without divine intervention.”

“I’ve seen it
run, too, and I won’t need any help. Doesn’t matter how good this guy drives. This
is still just a plug-in.” Jason went back to scanning beneath the hood, pretending
to appraise the car. “He’s rolling a lot of amps under here, but not enough. He’ll
edge me off the starts and turns, but down the stretches, I’ll own him.”
Even
if he weren’t
driving a car that’s been sabotaged. Where’s that damn
inhibitor?
The smartglasses had yet to show a pixel of red.

Katelynn paused her
work with the laserstick, giving him a small smile. “Maybe.”

“What’s up,
training wheels?” Craig Knight ambled up wearing a gray half-collared shirt. Form
fitting through the shoulders and chest, its v-shaped collar made it plain he
spent as much time in the gym as behind the wheel. Haphazard rows of spiked hair
sprouted from his head like a crop sewn by a drunken farmer. But Knight himself
looked anything but drunk. He carried himself with an air of balance, the readiness
of a runner in the blocks.

“He thinks he
won’t have any trouble beating you, baby.” Katelynn drew close to Knight, the
finger she trailed down his chest coming to rest at the point of the collar’s V.
So she’d found a new driver to focus her attentions on.

“Trouble? He won’t
be any trouble.” Knight gave Jason a patronizing smile. “Will you, fossil fuel?
Not in this old gear grinder.” He turned to Katelynn, nuzzling her ear. “I’ve
seen him in action. He drives like an old man.”

Jason gave him a
level look. “Better for you if I didn’t.”

Knight narrowed
his eyes, unsure how to how to take the comment. A couple of slow steps brought
him to stand in front of Jason. “Maybe you should scratch out now. You’ve seen
what’s under there. “He gestured at the Tesla’s hood. “Twin 750s. Could be embarrassing
when you cross the line and I’m already drinking champagne.”

Jason
straightened his arms behind him, stretching. “Champagne might taste funny with
all the gasoline fumes you’ll be eating.”

Katelynn snapped
her clutch shut, looking at Knight, then Jason. “I think I’ll check out your
girlfriend’s seat. All the amps and octane flying back and forth are making my
hair hurt.”

Knight watched
her go, his hostility momentarily forgotten. “I swear that girl’s always
running a charge. She really let us have it, huh?”

Jason glanced
under the hood of the Tesla again, and a glowing red outline lit up the display
in his smartglasses. It hadn’t been there a moment before. Sitting just behind
the main capacitor array, the waveform inhibitor showed as a tiny cylinder – just
about the size and shape of an ordinary laserstick.

 “Yeah,” Jason
said. “I guess she did.”

2033

Michelle cut the
engine of her Nissan in the parking lot outside The Collegiate. She smiled, partly
from the sight of an old familiar stomping ground, partly because she was already
in a good mood. The weekend in Vegas had been a welcome change – one of those rare
and energizing getaways she almost never enjoyed anymore. But with Mandy off at
camp and Robert working on a project deadline, she’d found an unexpected chance
to escape for a few days. No dinners to cook, no demands on her time but her
own.

Still, after three
days on the Strip, she’d had all the holoslots, micro-massages and sushi she could
manage, even with Tori and a friend tagging along to make things fun. The other
two had booked show tickets and rooms for another night, but Michelle had left
them with her leftover casino credits and caught the JetRail back to Everton.

As she locked
the car and headed inside, she found herself wishing Robert could have gone
with her. She’d practically begged him to come, but he was on a deadline for
the office that wouldn’t wait. The girls were terrific fun when it came down to
it, but having him along would have been a welcome chance do something special
together. Something they never seemed to have time for anymore.

So rather than
head straight home, Michelle had stopped here first. A few texts with Robert
had let her know he’d finished his project and planned to come out and watch
some cage fight with his friends, so he might not hear her calls. She didn’t
care for the fight, but the idea of sharing some laughs and a few drinks on the
town with him before calling an official end to her mini-vacation suddenly
seemed good.

The last time she’d
been here, it had been with him. Back then, the place had still shown all the games
and matches on dozens of old-style micropanel displays. They’d covered every
inch of wall space not already crammed with jerseys or autographed holostills.