“Why are you showing me this, and where will you be?”
“I’ll be navigating so you’ll be driving.”
She eyed the interior. “Where is the navigator? And where are they going to squeeze in the video team?”
“The inside has mounted cameras and microphones, and the navigator goes… right… here.” He had hoisted himself up onto the vehicle and slid into the tiny opening like a snake disappearing into its burrow. His voiced had echoed up, “It really helps if you aren’t as claustrophobic as I am.”
She had been shaking her head as she looked in to see him laying in a long narrow slot in the very bottom of the vehicle. A crew member reached in and flipped a seat down right over the middle of his back. She had climbed in and the crew had flipped the canopy closed.
“Ariana?” Nathan’s voice interrupted her review of the vehicle’s controls.
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
This time she found it much easier to respond with, “Yes.”
“This is not a speed race; this is an energy management race, and we have an edge. When we get the flag, start off at 17% power and stay to the right. It doesn’t matter if the others pass us.”
“What are yea lookin at?”
“Real time satellite maps of cloud masses blowing in along the route. I am going to try to keep us out of the cloud shadows. That will give us the maximum solar energy. We’ll save the battery.”
“Okay. Here is the signal. We’re off.” Caressing the throttle lever, the futuristic vehicle had slid smoothly and silently forward. “I hae no driven this low ta tha ground since a producer in Italy let me drive his Lamborghini.”
“How did that go?” His voice sounding distant and distracted over the intercom.
“He couldna wait ta get outa tha car. I commend him fer no swearin. Tha car could make verra tight turns, verra fast.” She watched the backs of several vehicles receding into the distance and fought an urge to nudge the throttle, letting the little display stay at 17%. “We hae five cars pass us, yae know, and we are no even a mile from the start,” she hinted to Nathan.
“No problem. Let them discharge their batteries in this head wind. Weather data says we’ll get tailwinds in 25 miles – we’ll make it up there. This vehicle won the race.”
“An how do ya noo tha?”
His chuckle echoed up from below her. “There were the dregs of some stale champagne down here. I wiped it up.”
The race had actually been quite monotonous as they glided along. She had adjusted speed per Nathan’s directions, and hummed little ditties from home to keep her occupied as the hours dragged on and the broiling, late afternoon sun had started to ease just a fraction. She had waved cheekily as they passed several vehicles.
Finally she had remarked, “Garrett an Jeremy, an Ho an Pak are still ahead of us, but we seem ta be catching up.”
“Ariana, remember what I said about this being a game of power management rather than speed?”
Ariana frowned. “Aye.”
“When I tell you, push the throttle all the way to 100% and push in the red button.”
“What will happen than?”
“We will go REALLY fast. And, if my calculations are correct, we will run out of power just as we hit the finish line; and everyone else, because of the clouds and burning up their batteries fighting the wind, has less power than we do.”
“Fer sure?”
“Now.”
Ariana pushed the throttle all the way up and pushed the red button on the throttle. The car took off like a famished cheetah spotting a limping gazelle.
“Oh, and Ariana?”
“Wha?”
“None of the vehicles ahead of us have rearview mirrors, and I doubt if Garrett and Jeremy know how to work the rear-looking camera on their car.”
“So… none… o… them… will… see… us… comin,” she said slowly.
“Likely not.”
Araina looked into the distance, noticing that they were going so fast that the dashed line down the center of the road was blurred solid and the ride was so smooth that they might as well be flying. A predatory smile which would have terrified Lady Macbeth rippled across her lips. “Alright then!”
They had left the two cars behind them, and, thirty minutes later, coasted across the finish line as the battery charge read zero and the purple of twilight had just started tinting the Outback sky. They had hopped, skipped and jumped through the air, fire, water and earth challenges. After that it had been…
“Team number one agin; five o five! Tis another one fer home! I bet ya are makin the news thar!” Linnae had led the troupe in a round of applause, and they had all headed out to the busses. Ariana followed along, still reflective about the episode.
“So how long hae tha two o ya had tha mental telepathy thin goin?”
Marie’s quiet question popped her reverie like a pin kissing a balloon. “Wha?”
Marie looked at the bus as they walked along, but she gave the impression of listening as intently as a confessional. “Nathan and you. The two o ya hardly say a word ta each other on the show. Ya just look at each other n nod, and bang, whatever it is tis done, and yer off. Tis uncanny.”
A dozen responses fought to be the first said, so none were. She wanted to say that they hadn’t needed to talk much during the race because most of it had been so obvious – if it was a puzzle, she took it; if it was a jet plane to be pulled across the runway, he took it. If they needed to get somewhere fast in a car, she drove and he navigated. If they needed to launch a missile, he pushed the buttons while she read the instructions. It just seemed so natural that…. She caught herself. What did manage to make it out was, “We talked a lot off camera, they just didna show it,” which she instantly regretted.
“Ah, what did ya talk aboot, then”?
The simple question, so lightly spoken, was so laden with undertones, overtones, and piercing curiosity it would have sunk the largest ship with enough left over to take a couple of small islets into the abyss along with it. Ariana managed to snatch back the word, ‘everything,’ before it made it past her teeth, turning the stillborn reply into a small cough as she thought frantically for something which could be interpreted a little less incriminatingly by her friend. She tried to remember what they had talked about – and hurriedly admitted to herself that it was easier to remember what they hadn’t talked about because it was so much shorter a list. “Well, we talked aboot the race a lot, strategy and tha. And he talked aboot his family. And I talked aboot…,” she searched frantically and seized the first thought which came to mind, “… the music videos I want ta make someday.”
“What aboot his wife? Ya kin see him wearing a ring on the telly.” Marie stopped and faced her, and Ariana’s feet stopped automatically, though her heart wanted the sanctuary of the bus and the company of the other girls badly, certain Marie wouldn’t press her in front of the others.
“Widower. Three years now. Truck driver lost control and hit her car head on; she was in a coma and then was declared brain dead. He had ta let them pull tha plug on her.” The words tumbled out, as if to distract, rather than inform. “He was devastated. A friend took him ta hear me singin ‘Me Heart Will Gae On,’ and it helped him start the grievin. He started ma fan forum a little later. He is vera good wit computers,” she finished, defensively. She knew what Marie was getting at – she wanted to know if there was a romantic interest. She also knew why Marie was pressing – she knew any such relationship was impossible, and didn’t want her hurt or embarrassed. “An no, he is just a friend; a dear, dear friend I didna really noo I had, but just a friend.”