Hover Car Racer (18 page)

In the hover car racing world, there are four ‘Grand Slam’ races. In order, they are:

The Sydney Classic
, held in February.

The London Underground Run
, May.

The Italian Run
, August.

And the
New York Masters
, in October.

Naturally, they are all very different kinds of races.

The Sydney race is a typically Australian event - tough and hard and long, a test of endurance, like five-day-long cricket matches or the old Bathurst 1000 car race. It is a lap race that lasts 20 hours, during which racers do 156 laps of a course that runs past the eight giant ocean-dams that line Australia’s eastern coastline, ending underneath the grandest Finish Line in the world: the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Australians call it ‘the race that stops a nation’.
The London Underground Run is a gate race - the most fiendish gate race of all. Held in the subterranean dark of the London subway system, it tests every racer’s tactical abilities, seeing how many underground stations they can whip through in 6 hours. No racer has ever ‘clocked up’ every single station.
For its part, the New York Masters is a carnival of racing, four races held over four consecutive days, one race per day - one supersprint, a gate race, one collective pursuit, and finishing it off, an example of the rarest race of all, a long-distance search-and-retrieve ‘quest’ race that takes racers from New York City to Niagara Falls and back again.
The Italian Run, however, has its own unique format.
Held every year in the baking heat of the northern summer, it is a
unidirectional
race. Racers do not do laps of a circuit. Rather, they start in one city and end in another, on the other side of the country.
The race starts in Rome, inside the Colosseum, after which it shoots north, up the spine of Italy, swinging through Florence, Padua and Milan before it winds up through the Alps and then begins the long trip south down the western coast and between the islands of Sicily and Sardinia. Then it’s under the bottom of the boot - where racers can choose to cut the heel if they dare - followed by the final dash up the eastern side of the country to the grand finish in Venice II.
Interestingly, there are
two
pit areas in the Italian Run - one at Leonardo Da Vinci International Airport in Fiumicino near Rome and a second directly across the country at Pescara. It is thus the only race in the world where
pit crews
have to travel overland to get to the second stop. It is not unknown for a racer to get to Pescara and find that his Mech Chief has not yet arrived.

Unlike most of the races Jason had run at Race School (which operated under the southern hemisphere rules of racing, such as ‘car-over-the-line’ finishes), the Italian Run operated under the more traditional rules of the northern pro-racing confederations, including a different finishing rule: ‘driver-over-the-line’.

This meant that it was the first racer - driver or navigator, it didn’t matter - over the line who won the race, whether
or not
they were in their car. On more than one occasion, a racer, his car broken down or crashed, had
run
(or in Italy, where the Finish Line was over water, swum) over the Line to finish the race.

Ultimately, however, the Italian Run was a truly
European
event, and as such it was loved by all of Europe. Every year, millions descended upon Italy for it. Immense crowds line the coastline
of the entire country
, sitting on hills and cliffs and hover grandstands.

For one week in August every year, Italy becomes the centre of Europe, buzzing with tourists and race fans - all of them with money to spend. Economists say that the week of the Italian Run injects $60 billion into the Italian economy.

It was into this surging pulsating world that Jason Chaser was about to plunge.

THE INTERNATIONAL RACE SCHOOL HOBART, TASMANIA

But before Jason and Xavier were to depart for Italy, there were still almost a dozen school races to be run.

While the Race School was very proud to have two of its racers invited to compete in a Grand Slam event, it was made very clear to both Jason and Xavier that while they were away in Italy, the School season would continue without them.

Which meant they would do well to put as many competition points as possible in the bank before they left. This was less of a problem for Xavier, who was currently leading the School Competition Ladder by a clear 30 points.

For Jason, it was tougher. As runner-up in the midseason tournament, he had garnered a solid 18 points (the tournament being worth double points), lifting him to 7th on the overall Competition Ladder. But Italy would take him away from the School Competition for eight days, forcing him to miss three whole races. And Italy aside, he was still mindful that he had to finish the School season in the Top 4 to get an invitation to the New York Challenger Race in October.

He would have to do some catch-up when he returned from his adventure in Italy. But hell, he thought, it was worth it - it wasn’t every day a rookie like him got a ride
in a Grand Slam race
.

Goddamn, he was excited.

Early one morning, a few days after the tournament, Jason went for a walk by himself out across a grassy headland overlooking Storm Bay. It was a place he went to be alone, to think and to breathe, away from the frenetic world of racing.

Someone was waiting for him at his spot.

Ariel.

‘Hey,’ Jason sat down beside her.

‘Hi there,’ she said.

Jason hadn’t seen her since the day of the tournament, the day he had beaten her, the day after she had - ‘You raced well in the tournament, Jason,’ she said.

‘I almost had him. Almost.’

‘Jason, I couldn’t believe you stuck with Xavier for as long as you did. No-one did,’ Ariel said. ‘And after all those races before. You just never give up.’

Jason bowed his head, said nothing.

Ariel said, ‘You know, I was cheering for you by the end. Sure, after you beat me, I went back to my room for a while and yes, I cried some. But after a while, I switched on the TV and saw that you were still in it, beating everyone. So for the final, I went back out there and sat up in the back of one of the grandstands and watched.’ She turned to him. ‘I was proud of you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I also felt I let you down by what I did the night before. With that asshole Fabian.’

Jason looked at her. ‘Ariel - ‘

‘No. Don’t say anything. I was stupid. I shoulda known better. He told me everything I wanted to hear, but he was only after one thing. Jason, you’ve been the only person who’s been good to me this whole time at Race School. I hope you can forgive me and be my friend again.’

Jason was silent for a long time.

Then he said, ‘You never let me down, Ariel. So we never stopped being friends. Except, of course, out on the track.’

And with that Ariel gave him a big hug.

The next twelve races went by in a blur.

Knowing he needed to bank some points before he went to Italy, Jason had solid finishes throughout: four 3rds, three 2nds and even two wins - although it had to be said that both of his wins came on days when Xavier Xonora decided to take a rest and sit out the race.

This fact actually bothered Jason.

He realised that he had only ever beaten Xavier on one occasion - in Race 25, and even then, it had been in pretty incredible circumstances, after he’d taken the very nonpercentage move of skipping his final pit stop.

In any case, his results catapulted Team
Argonaut
up the Competition Ladder and by the time it came for him to leave for Italy, the Ladder looked like this:

INTERNATIONAL RACE SCHOOL

DRIVER NO. CAR POINTS

1. XONORA, X 1
Speed Razor
266

2. KRISHNA, V 31
Calcutta-IV
235

3. WASHINGTON, I 42
Black Bullet
224

4. CHASER, J 55
Argonaut
217

5. BECKER, B 09
Devil’s Chariot
216

6. WONG, H 888
Little Tokyo
215

7. SCHUMACHER, K 25
Blue Lightning
213

8. PIPER, A 16
Pied Piper
212

Xavier was way out in front. Sitting 31 points ahead of his nearest rival, he could sit out three more races and still not lose the Number 1 spot.

Jason was in fourth position - but with a bunch of quality racers nipping at his heels. After missing three races, he’d almost certainly drop out of the Top 4.

But that was a battle to be fought another day. It was time to go to Italy.

VENICE II, ITALY (MONDAY OF RACE WEEK)

The whole of Italy was positively buzzing with excitement when Jason, the Bug and Sally stepped off Umberto Lombardi’s private hover-liner at the main wharf of Venice II.

It was as if hover car fever had gripped the entire nation.

Gargantuan images of Alessandro Romba blared out from building-sized hover-billboards along the coast - pictures of the world champion holding cola cans or driving sports hover cars.

Multi-coloured banners fluttered from every lamppost - either in the colours of the Italian flag or of some racing team. People danced in the streets dressed in the colours of their favourite teams, sang, drank and generally had a great time.

The week of the Italian Run was Party Week in Italy.Magazines and newspapers and TV talk shows spoke of only one thing:
La Corsa
. The Race.

Bookmakers did a thriving trade, offering odds on every available result: the winner, the top three finishers
in order
, any-order multiples, or even just a racer finishing in the top five.

The world champ and local hero, Alessandro Romba, was the talk of the town. His victories in Sydney and London had every race fan wondering if he might be the first racer ever to complete the Golden Grand Slam - winning all four Grand Slam races in the one year. Indeed, he had not even been cleanly
passed
in a Grand Slam race this year. He appeared on the talk shows and every Italian loved him like a son.

The French racer, Fabian, was also doing the media rounds. On one occasion, Jason saw him being interviewed on a racing show.

The interviewer was asking Fabian about what he had seen at the Race School in Australia.

‘There is a lot of talent down there,’ Fabian said. ‘A lot of talent. And the two students who have come here are two of the best young drivers there.’

‘And what about the female driver at the Race School?’ the interviewer asked. ‘Much fuss was made of her enrolment. What did you make of her?’

Fabian’s eyes glinted meanly.

‘She was, quite frankly, a non-event. She was defeated in the first round of the tournament, quite comprehensively as far as I could tell. Call me a dinosaur, but I personally see no place for women in hover car racing.’

Watching at the time, Jason had scowled at the TV.

But then to his surprise the eyes of the media - always hungry, always looking for new fodder - soon fell upon the two young racers who would be making their Grand Slam debuts in the Italian Run: Xavier Xonora and him.

Xavier seemed to take the media attention in his stride. Perhaps it was his experience as a royal figure. Perhaps it was the slick public relations machine of the Lockheed-Martin Factory Team selecting the right talk shows for him to go on. Perhaps, Jason thought, Xavier was just made to be a superstar.

The media (especially the society pages) portrayed him as the dutiful protege, the sharp-eyed student who would be watching and learning from the master, his No.1 in the Lockheed-Martin Team, Alessandro Romba. His goals were modest - ‘I’d just love a top ten finish’ - and within a few days he was being hailed as the heir apparent to Romba as the heartthrob of international racing.

Jason had a tougher time of it - just seeing himself portrayed on TV, on magazine covers, in the papers was scary enough.

The media had latched onto his youth. Even though he would be 15 on Wednesday, he was portrayed as a brilliant young upstart, the 14-year-old
wunderkind
- but despite that, still ultimately a boy venturing into a man’s world.

He was a curiosity, an oddity - like the bearded lady at the circus - and he didn’t like being that.

At the first news story that claimed he was out of his depth, he wanted to write a letter to the editor. After the twentieth one, he just fumed silently.

He wished Scott Syracuse was there, but his teacher had stayed back at the Race School - he did, after all, have other students to watch over in their School races. Syracuse had said he would try to get to Italy for the race on Sunday.