Page 35

Perry

We were at a clear disadvantage,I knew that. Not only did Arthur have less practice time here, he didn't have a professional, dedicated track guide watching the monitors for him. All he had was me: someone who knew a thing or two about wolf-cycle racing, but was definitely no professional. He was counting on me to help him improve his runs, and we both had to trust that my observations and advice were actually doingthat.

"Increaseby five on the upcoming corner," I said, wiping a gallon of sweat from my forehead. Being here on this track, knowing the challenge was really happening in just a couple days... There was real pressure now, pressure that I hadn't felt before. "Wait, decrease by five," I said, quickly. "Take ithard."

His voice gurgledthrough the radio. "Shit."

"I'm sorry,"I said. I swallowed a lump in my throat and switched monitor views so that I could see the track from the top down. He banked hard into the corner right alongside Gregor's ghost, and pulled out of it slightly ahead. I breathed out in relief. "You came out ahead. Alright.Great."

"You okay?"he asked. I hit a button on the console, and a picture in picture display of inside his cockpit appeared on the monitor. His eyes were fixed and focused, his ears flattened back against his head. He looked far more relaxed than I felt. It was our sixth time through the course, and Arthur had only finished aheadonce.

"Fine,"I said, wiping away another torrent of sweat from my forehead with the back of myhand.

"You sound nervous,"he said. "I can't have you being nervous. What's thematter?"

"Nervous? What are you talking about?"I squeaked out a nervous laugh, and then coughed itaway.

"Perry..."His eyes flicked up to the camera for a half asecond.

"Enterthe next straightaway at open throttle," I said. "Release halfway through, and then decrease speed. Don't worry about me, Arthur. I'm managing overhere."

His bike rocketedinto the straightaway, increasing speed. On the monitor, his eyes narrowed into an intense grimace. He was still just even with the ghost bike, and never able to pull too far ahead, but also never falling too far behind. It was a constant stalemate, but that was a problem. He was just barely holding on to his position. One screw-up and it was over. It seemed like the chance of a win or loss was split down the middle, with the scaled teetering againsthim.

"I...need you... to not just... manage..." The force of accelerating into the straightaway made it hard to speak. His fur matted back, making it look like a fan was blowing in his face. Halfway into the straightaway, both he and the ghost eased off their throttles and then changed gears, cutting their speed. They curved into the turn at the end like two synchronized dancers. They zipped along The Walls like two mirror images of one another, and then entered the final straightaway before TheForest.

"Ican't dothis without your help," he said. "The only way I'm going to be able to get through this course ahead of Gregor is withyou."

"Iknow,"I said. "But that's what I'm worried about. Maybe we should hire a real track guide. Someone who really knows what they'redoing."

"Ineedyou,"Arthur said. "Nobody else can do this except for you. You know why? Because we're connected. We've got something no one elsehas."

Of course.

He was right.I had to trust our connection, our love. He trusted it. He trustedme.

"Okay,"I said. The overwhelming nervous feeling was subsiding. I was in control again. I nodded to myself and tapped the buttons on the control panel, bringing up readouts on both Arthur and Gregor's acceleration and brake pressure. "Final stretch. Let's beat thatghost."

"Alright,"he said, a grin spreading across hismuzzle.

"You're goingto need to enter The Forest at top speed in order to match Gregor," I told him. "And you'll need to be precise as possible when going around thepylons."

He jammedthe accelerator and flew into the obstacle, whizzing by the the gigantic concrete pillars. He was elegant, but Gregor's ghost still had an edge on him. His movements were obviously more economical than Arthur's, wasting absolutely no speed. It was adding up, and Arthur was pulling slightly behind. I could see the frustration in his face as he looked out the side of the cockpit window and saw Gregor ahead of him. His fangs were gritted in a snarl of concentration. On the monitor, I saw that he was opening the throttle, increasingspeed.

"Careful,"I said, alarmed. Going faster here wasn't necessarily the best idea. Too fast, and it'd be impossible to avoid clipping one of thepylons.

"Just a bit,"hegrowled.

He'd evenedhis position again, but I could see that he was at the verge of being out ofcontrol.

"Slow down, Arthur,"I said. "Slowdown."

He kept the throttle open,and zigzagged between the pylons. I gripped the side of the monitor, my heart hammering with growing panic. Was I just afraid for him? Not pushing him hard enough because I didn't want to see him hurt? Or was he really in the danger my gut was telling me he wasin?

"Slow down!"I shouted. He had pulled ahead,but...

He arced around a pylon,and it became obvious both to him and I that he was on a collision course with one straight ahead of him. The bike banked but couldn't turn fast enough. He slammed on the brakes, sending white smoke jetting from both his wheels. The bike spun on the track, like a whirligig blown in the wind. Every muscle in my body tensed as I watched him skid towards the pylon, the tires screeching across theasphalt.

"No!"