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Hot Seat

Roomba was working on a bike when I walked into the Bek‘s enclosure. He looked up, nodded, then made one last check before closing the hood over the engine compartment. “So you’re the one that is going to try out my baby. “ He said. “Don’t worry. Your friend Zaalbar and I were working on the accelerator for hours. Stability shouldn’t be a problem, I hope.” He walked over, and touched hands with me. “I’m told you’ve never done this before. You want me to run over the basics for you?” I nodded. He walked me over beside the bike, pulling up the windscreen so I got a good look. I would have to crouch, leaned forward, and hold two handles that controlled the maneuvering vanes. “All right, first thing to remember is try not to crash into any debris. The course is littered with obstacles. All swoops have dynamic deflector systems, so crashing and getting killed is not a problem with such minor impacts. But anything you run into is going to slow down your run.

“There are grav plates, and before your first run you won’t know where they are. If you hit one it will give you a jolt of speed, so hit them when you see them. But don’t go whipping across the track if you can avoid it. You lose speed making radical turns and you might put yourself out of position for the next series, understand?

“The accelerator makes the engine run a little hot so you have to watch your engine temperature gauge.” He pointed at a gauge on the panel. If it starts running hot you’ll hear a warning buzzer. Just change gears when you hear it, or when the needle reaches here,“ He touched a section of the bar graph, “and you’ll do fine.”

I took a deep shuddering breath. I had never done anything like this before, and was suddenly terrified. “All right, let’s start.”

“Hold your jets.” He said. “There is more you need to know. Racers go out on the track alone. They’ve started paired races in some places, even full races with everyone out at the same time in some places, but we’re traditionalists here. The times are tallied as they come up, and when the day is over, the best time wins.

“Normally a rider can do as many heats as he wants, but this engine might burn out. If it does, the bike is going to imitate a meteor and blow up. I think we can get four, maybe five runs out of it. So make your runs count. Gadon is depending on you. We’re all depending on you. If the Vulkars win, Brejik expects to get a lot of recruits out of this. If they win, the Beks are history.“

“I won’t let you down.“

I looked at the accelerator, which looked cobbled together from spare parts, which, as a prototype it had been. I have a bad feeling about this...

I checked in and as they transferred the bike to the course, I got dressed in my riding gear. The bike looked as if it were already at speed, and I felt a twinge of hope.

They called my name, and I went below and I climbed aboard. I flipped a switch, and the bike lifted into the air, floating a meter off the ground. Ahead of me was a series of lights, and I slowed my breathing, watching them The red light lit, then a few seconds later, the amber. My grip tightened, and my finger hooked over the trigger of the accelerator.

Green. I pulled the trigger, and the swoop bike smoothly accelerated. As it did, I saw the temperature gauge climb almost immediately into the red. A grav plate was coming up, and I shifted course as I loosened the trigger, setting it for the next gear. Then I passed the plate. There was a thump, and suddenly I grinned. It was like riding a Tirlat!

Yeah, a hot Tirlat! The section below my butt was not only warm, it was starting to scorch! I leaned up, pushing down so my butt wasn't being fried. I hit the grav plates I could, but I was more worried about my sex life and ability to sit!

I finished the run with a good time but I was starting to get worried. I told Roomba what he needed to do, and looked frantically for one thing. I found it, and ran to get my next run set up.

They lowered the bike again, and I waited impatiently. I wanted this damn thing over with. They called my name, and I climbed on the bike with my new possession in place. I watched the lights, and as the green flashed, I merely tapped the accelerator key once. The run flashed by, and I won.

As I climbed off, I picked up the ice packs I had laid under my bum. Even adjusted the accelerator had turned the gel inside into a hard lump.

But my butt was fine.

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  • 2 months later...

Well I'll be the monkey's uncle on this. A hot bum and the worry about a sex life, and that's pretty funny. I was entertained throughout the whole piece of trying to get the business of winning Bastila done but the main character is worried about other things like the ability to reproduce. A good read.

 

Since I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't nitpick, I'll do it here and now. Line spacing. I think mach was in a bit of a hurry to post and forgot to put the spacing in between the paragraphs. It's not a bad thing but it does make things easier to read and visually lets the reader know who is talking and if the subject of the paragraph changed. Other than that, it was good and short though I think mach you could expand it to see how the character would react if he had to race again.

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