Read Online Hover Car Racer by Matthew Reilly - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Matthew Reilly
Ads: Link
complaints from a couple of other racers - kid from India and that Piper chick. Y’all probably just got a bad batch. In any case, I’ll note your complaint.’
Just then, the Bug tugged on Jason’s sleeve, whispered something in his ear.
Jason nodded - then he glanced at the greasy rag protruding from Smythe’s hip pocket.
He said to Smythe: ‘Would you mind if before tomorrow’s race my Mech Chief observes you electro-checking our mags before she takes them away from here?’
Smythe’s face turned to ice. ‘I don’t think I like your tone. Are you suggesting something?’
‘Like what?’
‘Are you suggesting that I’d deliberately allow depleted mags to be given out to certain racers?’
‘Let’s just say I’m tired of being “unlucky”. I just want to ensure that I don’t suffer another bout of unluckiness tomorrow.’
Smythe said coldly: ‘I answer to my boss, Department Chief Ralph A. Abbott. He answers to Jean-Pierre LeClerq. How about this: you get me a note from Abbott or LeClerq and I’ll let your Mech Chief observe tomorrow’s electro-check. Until I see that note, why don’t you just piss off and leave me to do my job.’
His snake-like stare became a fake smile. ‘Now, unless there’s anything else I can do for you, I have to go.’
Jason and the others left the Equipment Department. As they walked, the Bug whispered in Jason’s ear. ‘Yeah, I saw it,’ Jason said.
‘Saw what?’ Sally asked. ‘What did the little guy say to you in there?’
‘It’s not what he said, it’s what he saw. The Bug saw something in Smythe’s pocket,’ Jason said. ‘When we
came in, Smythe stuffed his rag into his pocket. But he didn’t stuff it in far enough. The Bug saw a wad of hundred-dollar bills sticking out from under it. I can’t imagine a grease-monkey like Werny Smythe goes to work with that kind of cash on his person.’
‘Which means…?’ Sally said.
‘Which means he got that money recently. Today. And who was in the Department just ahead of us?’
‘Oliver Koch…’ Sally said.
‘That’s right. Xavier Xonora’s Mech Chief,’ Jason said. The Bug whispered something.
‘No,’ Jason replied. ‘I don’t think we can turn them in yet. Just seeing some money in his pocket isn’t enough
evidence to prove our case. But I think we’re gonna have to keep an eye on Smythe and Prince Xavier’s team.’
CHAPTER THREE
The next day, Jason found himself rocketing north along the eastern coastline of Tasmania in the Argonaut , powering through driving rain.
Ducking, weaving, blasting, charging.
He swooped left, banking into a high-speed turn that took him across the mid-section of Tasmania.
There was good news and bad news.
The good news: he was coming 3rd in this race, behind Horatio Wong and Isaiah Washington.
The bad news: there were only three cars in the race.
It was a three-man practice race between Jason and the other two students of Scott Syracuse: Wong and Washington.
It was the day before Race 16 and while most of the other teachers had given their students a rest-and-preparation day before the race, Syracuse had organised for his charges to have a private race of their own on Course 9, a track which circled the lower half of Tasmania.
Despite the atrocious weather, the Argonaut was absolutely flying.
It shoomed out over the Serpentine Dam, bending south toward Wreck Bay.
The only problem was, it was almost a quarter of a lap behind the other two racers - thanks to an unexpected malfunction of the Tarantula during its first pit stop. The big pit machine had simply shut down halfway through the stop, meaning that Jason and the Bug had just had to sit helplessly in their cockpit while Sally McDuff frantically rebooted the robot.
The damage was a full quarter lap.
And this was only a 10-lap race.
Being a longer, more open circuit, pit stops were assumed to be necessary every four laps. Or not.
So at the end of Lap 8, Jason had to make the call.
To
Just then, the Bug tugged on Jason’s sleeve, whispered something in his ear.
Jason nodded - then he glanced at the greasy rag protruding from Smythe’s hip pocket.
He said to Smythe: ‘Would you mind if before tomorrow’s race my Mech Chief observes you electro-checking our mags before she takes them away from here?’
Smythe’s face turned to ice. ‘I don’t think I like your tone. Are you suggesting something?’
‘Like what?’
‘Are you suggesting that I’d deliberately allow depleted mags to be given out to certain racers?’
‘Let’s just say I’m tired of being “unlucky”. I just want to ensure that I don’t suffer another bout of unluckiness tomorrow.’
Smythe said coldly: ‘I answer to my boss, Department Chief Ralph A. Abbott. He answers to Jean-Pierre LeClerq. How about this: you get me a note from Abbott or LeClerq and I’ll let your Mech Chief observe tomorrow’s electro-check. Until I see that note, why don’t you just piss off and leave me to do my job.’
His snake-like stare became a fake smile. ‘Now, unless there’s anything else I can do for you, I have to go.’
Jason and the others left the Equipment Department. As they walked, the Bug whispered in Jason’s ear. ‘Yeah, I saw it,’ Jason said.
‘Saw what?’ Sally asked. ‘What did the little guy say to you in there?’
‘It’s not what he said, it’s what he saw. The Bug saw something in Smythe’s pocket,’ Jason said. ‘When we
came in, Smythe stuffed his rag into his pocket. But he didn’t stuff it in far enough. The Bug saw a wad of hundred-dollar bills sticking out from under it. I can’t imagine a grease-monkey like Werny Smythe goes to work with that kind of cash on his person.’
‘Which means…?’ Sally said.
‘Which means he got that money recently. Today. And who was in the Department just ahead of us?’
‘Oliver Koch…’ Sally said.
‘That’s right. Xavier Xonora’s Mech Chief,’ Jason said. The Bug whispered something.
‘No,’ Jason replied. ‘I don’t think we can turn them in yet. Just seeing some money in his pocket isn’t enough
evidence to prove our case. But I think we’re gonna have to keep an eye on Smythe and Prince Xavier’s team.’
CHAPTER THREE
The next day, Jason found himself rocketing north along the eastern coastline of Tasmania in the Argonaut , powering through driving rain.
Ducking, weaving, blasting, charging.
He swooped left, banking into a high-speed turn that took him across the mid-section of Tasmania.
There was good news and bad news.
The good news: he was coming 3rd in this race, behind Horatio Wong and Isaiah Washington.
The bad news: there were only three cars in the race.
It was a three-man practice race between Jason and the other two students of Scott Syracuse: Wong and Washington.
It was the day before Race 16 and while most of the other teachers had given their students a rest-and-preparation day before the race, Syracuse had organised for his charges to have a private race of their own on Course 9, a track which circled the lower half of Tasmania.
Despite the atrocious weather, the Argonaut was absolutely flying.
It shoomed out over the Serpentine Dam, bending south toward Wreck Bay.
The only problem was, it was almost a quarter of a lap behind the other two racers - thanks to an unexpected malfunction of the Tarantula during its first pit stop. The big pit machine had simply shut down halfway through the stop, meaning that Jason and the Bug had just had to sit helplessly in their cockpit while Sally McDuff frantically rebooted the robot.
The damage was a full quarter lap.
And this was only a 10-lap race.
Being a longer, more open circuit, pit stops were assumed to be necessary every four laps. Or not.
So at the end of Lap 8, Jason had to make the call.
To
Similar Books
