...slowed.

0.4%...0.2%...0.0% 'No!' he yelled.

He received no response when he pushed forward on his collective.

Wong and Washington whooshed by the Argonaut, rocketing away up the home straight, disappearing into the distance, becoming specks.

Wong would cross the line first, winning by 0.3 of a second.

Jason punched his steering wheel. 'd.a.m.n it! s.h.i.t!'

He engaged his emergency power reserves to guide the Argonaut up the straight and limp over the Start-Finish Line, pounded by the pouring rain.

Upon returning to the pits, wet and soaking, he found Wong's team dancing in jubilation. Washington's team was also happy to have finished so strongly.

And Scott Syracuse was just standing there, shaking his head.

'Mr Chaser. Mr Chaser. A bold move. But also a very stupid one. In over two thousand official hover car races at this school, only ten have ever been won by racers who skipped their last pit stop. That's a success rate of 0.005%. It might look audacious when you see Alessandro Romba do it on television but statistically, skipping your last stop is a foolish tactic. Please don't do it again whilst you are under my tutelage, lest someone think I actually encourage such folly.

'Mr Wong, good racing. Exceptional pit work on the part of your Mech Chief. Mr Washington, your cornering needs work, but you finished well. And Mr Chaser: you have a lot to do. Work on your tactics and get your Mech Chief to check your pit machine more closely before each race.'

Syracuse turned to leave. 'That will be all for today, people. I'll see you tomorrow for Race 16. As usual, be in the pits two hours before racetime. Good night.'

And he left.

CHAPTER FOUR.

The next few races pa.s.sed without any major incidents - no faulty parts or depleted magneto drives. Just good hard racing.

The Argonaut had some promising finishes. A third, then a fifth, which lifted it up the rankings to 15th.

Ariel Piper caused a minor sensation when she stole victory from Barnaby Becker on the final turn of Race 18. But after that, she was bogged down with technical problems again and in the next three races, she DNF'd twice and fell down the ladder to 14th.

Ariel didn't mind: her win in Race 18 had guaranteed her a start in the much-antic.i.p.ated Sponsors' Event.

Jason, however, was still winless.

He had come close in Race 22 - a gate race around the craters of the old mining town of Queenstown, coming second to Xavier Xonora. Again, it had been pouring with unseasonal rain that day - so heavily in fact that several of the gate-arches collapsed in mudslides and the race was nearly cancelled.

In the race, however, the Bug had excelled himself, coming up with a very clever race-plan that none of the other navigators - not even Xonora's - had even considered.

Jason executed the plan well, but Prince Xavier was an incredible racer - and absolutely awesome in the rain - and his navigator's race-plan, while more conventional than the Bug's, was just as effective with Xavier at the wheel, and the Black Prince held on to win the race by a bare point.

Jason kicked himself. Their plan had been superb. Sally's pit work had been great. It was his driving that had let them down. He had been the weakest link.

And now they only had three races to get a win. Another strange thing happened that day.

As Jason stood on the winner's podium with the Bug and Sally, he noticed Barnaby Becker - who had come 9th - gazing up at him from the crowd, with his and Xavier's mentor, Zoroastro, beside him.

Jason noticed Zoroastro point up at the Bug and whisper something to Barnaby.

Barnaby nodded. Only Jason saw the gesture, from way up on the podium. What it meant, at first he didn't know.

That evening he found out.

As he and the Bug were returning to their dorm from dinner later that night, they found that the lights to their stairwell were not working.

The entire area was dark and silent. Foreboding. They climbed the stairs, but had only got halfway up when four shadowy figures - two above them, two below - appeared from the shadows.

Trapping them on the stairs.

The two boys above them were Prince Xavier and Barnaby Becker. The two boys below: the stocky Oliver Koch and Barnaby's navigator, the sly Guido Moralez.

Moralez emerged from the darkness.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't the kindergarten cla.s.s. Good race today, kiddies. Not good enough, but still a sterling effort.'

'Thanks...' Jason tried to go up the stairs, but Barnaby and Xavier blocked him.

Moralez climbed the stairs, eyeing the Bug. 'You little fellas like those gate races, don't you. Like the strategy of them. Like the idea of setting your own course.'

'What do you want with us?' Jason said.

'Chaser, Chaser,' Moralez said. 'That's your problem, you know, it's always about you. But this isn't about you. No. This is about him: your little navigator here. I just want to talk with him. Congratulate him on plotting such a great course today. Give him a little prize.'

Moralez cracked his knuckles, stood over the Bug. Then he formed a fist, held it in front of the Bug's bespectacled face. 'Here's your prize, you little four-eyed freak.'

Moralez made to punch the Bug in the face, but Jason rushed forward at the last moment and pushed the Bug out of the way - and in doing so, received the full force of the blow instead.

Jason hit the wall. Hard. Blood spilled from his nose.

'Hoo-ah! Ouch!' Moralez sneered. He moved again towards the Bug, who backed up against the wall, cowering, defenceless, utterly terrified - 'No!' Jason called, standing up on wobbling legs and again moving in front of the Bug. 'You don't touch him.'

The Bug hated to be touched, absolutely hated it. h.e.l.l, he only let two people in the whole world even hug him: Jason and his mother. He didn't even let his father cuddle him. A full-blown punch from Guido Moralez would probably send him into a catatonic state.

Jason had to do whatever he could to prevent this creep from touching the Bug...even if that meant acting as an alternative punching bag.

'You wanna pick on someone,' he said to Moralez, 'pick on me...a.s.shole.'

The bait worked.

'a.s.shole? a.s.shole!' Moralez sneered. 'You little punk...'

Whack! He punched Jason in the gut, the blow sudden and strong. Jason buckled over - winded - but remained standing.

He swallowed.

Raised his head.

Looked Moralez right in the eye. Baited him again.

'You...hit...like a girl,' he said grimly.

Two more lightning-quick blows from Moralez dropped Jason to his knees.

Moralez moved in.

'Enough!' Prince Xavier's voice echoed from the top of the darkened stairwell.

Moralez rubbed his knuckles as he stepped away from Jason. 'You forgot what I told you when we arrived here: you never know what kinds of accidents can happen in a place like this. See ya round, Chaser.'

Jason just stared up at the silhouette that was Xavier Xonora. 'Next time, Xonora,' he said, 'take us on where it counts. On the track.'

The shadow made no reply.

Then as quickly as they had appeared, the bigger boys left, melting away into the darkness, and Jason and the Bug were alone in the stairwell.

The Bug rushed to Jason's side, tears in his eyes, put his arms around his brother.

Jason sat up, touched his nose. 'Ow.'

The Bug whispered something.

Jason looked at him. 'That's okay, little brother. Anytime.'

CHAPTER FIVE.

The next morning, in the Race Briefing Room, there came a big surprise.

Accompanying Race Director Calder onto the stage was none other than the Princ.i.p.al of the Race School, Jean Pierre LeClerq. He took the lectern.

'Racers,' he began. 'I have an announcement to make. Some excellent news has come through. I have just received word from the Professional Racers a.s.sociation regarding Race School partic.i.p.ants in the annual New York Challenger Race.'

A buzz filled the room.

The New York Challenger Race was part of the week-long New York Racing Festival, the high-point of the hover car racing year, held in October. The climax of the Festival was the New York Masters Series: four different kinds of race, held one race per day - a supersprint, a gate race, a multi-car pursuit race and last of all, a long-distance quest race.

A veritable feast of racing, the New York Masters t.i.tle was the most prestigious hover car racing t.i.tle in the world and the last of the four Grand Slams.

The New York Challenger Race, however, was traditionally held two days before the Masters series. It was an intricate lap race through a street circuit that traversed the avenues and parks of New York City.

Entry was by invitation only and the race normally featured up-and-coming racers from the satellite leagues. Schools like the International Race School were often given a couple of invitations to disperse as they pleased.

Partic.i.p.ating in the New York Challenger Race was not just an honour - it was also an incredible opportunity for an unknown racer, since it was a chance to race in front of the pro-racing teams who would be a.s.sembled in New York for the Masters.

'I am pleased to announce,' LeClerq said, 'that the Racers a.s.sociation has allocated the International Race School four places in this year's New York Challenger Race!

'In keeping with the School's long-standing tradition in matters such as this, the four invitations to the Challenger Race will be allocated to those racers occupying the top four positions on the Race School Championship Ladder at the end of the school compet.i.tion in September.'

The buzzing in the room intensified as racers and their teams quickly conferred, calculating their chances of coming in the Top 4.

It was now late May. There was still a long way to go in the School Championships.

Jason, the Bug and Sally formed a huddle. Jason's face was a little cut and bruised.

Sally whispered: 'The Top 4? Geez, can we make it?'

'There's a lot of racing left in this season,' Jason said. 'Just about everyone can still make it. Either way, it certainly gives us something huge to race for.'

At that moment Princ.i.p.al LeClerq cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention again.

'I also have another announcement to make,' he said, 'this one concerning the annual Sponsors' Event to be held here at the Race School this coming weekend. Two things. First, the format of the Sponsors' Event.'

The format of the Sponsors' Event changed every year: some years it was a gate race, others an enduro, sometimes it was even a series of races.

'This year's Sponsors' Event,' LeClerq said, 'will take the form of a tournament: a day-long series of knockout one-on-one pursuit races.'

Once again, the room rippled with excitement. Such a format was similar to a professional tennis tournament: as you beat one opponent, you went through to the next round, until by the end of the day, only two racers were left to fight out the final. Every race was do-or-die, which made for very exciting racing.

But then LeClerq went on. 'My second announcement about the Sponsor's Event is more administrative. As I am sure you are all aware, the Event has long been scheduled to take place this coming weekend, in front of all of the School's sponsors and benefactors.

'Owing to the inclement weather of late and its effects on our courses across the island - mudslides, high seas along the coasts - it has been decided that Races 23 and 24, set for today and Tuesday, will be cancelled. Weather permitting, Race 25 will go ahead as planned on Thursday.'

The announcement made Jason gag. 'What!' he whispered in disbelief.