All of the Runners and Bunnies were gathered around the Skyfall strip. No sign of the Admin. The drag was about to begin.

She flicked a comb through her pomade-stiffened pompadour, one big dark brown curl atop her head. Set to kill. Turned up the raucous music on the Net channel built into the dash, and tapped her slender, grease-streaked fingers in time. A little rock and roll to set the rampant pace, she cracked her knuckles and took a deep breath.

Sun and stars were just white spots against the dusty yellow Martian horizon. They ran by dusk, to avoid the trackers. This could bring trouble, but the challenge was set. She could never live this one down.

Royce and his greaser pack thought they had the advantage, with their souped-up hover rod. His confidence was arrogance. Rich boys and their fancy toys. He glanced at her through the clear pane of his windshield, and he had the gall to wink.

She tossed her head back in reply, narrowing her glare, answering his gesture by slamming her pedals to the floor. The Interstellar Voodoo’s boosted engine roared. A little something extra to wow the onlookers, she flipped a switch on the panel above her head, throwing a wall of flame out the immense dual exhaust rig at her rear. The crowd gathered around her, many silent cheers and smiles evident through the over-sized round helmets so popular with the other kids. Avee preferred the practical coverage of a standard enviro-suit like her own.

A pretty blonde girl strutted forward, wearing a stylized suit in bright pink and glimmering silver. The decorative snap and crackle of electricity flaring between the wire rabbit ears atop her bubble-helm marked her as a member of the all-girl gang called the Dust Bunnies. Avee had seen her at the drags before, but didn’t know her name, or what her Say might be.

The Bunny posed between the racers, and threw her arms up, a glistening flag held in one hand.

Royce’s sleek hover rig purred, against the Voodoo’s grumbled retribution.

The flag fell, and the world collapsed to a single point ahead. Punched it. Adrenaline and nitro-rockets surged, pressing her back to the torn vinyl driver’s seat.

Royce pulled ahead, sailing over the rocks and crags breakneck.

The Voodoo’s tread was a point of derision for some of the more well-to-do Runners. No land machine had ever beaten Royce.

But the Interstellar Voodoo was an extraordinary ride. The masterpiece of her sixteen years of life, the result of all her mechanical knowledge and hard work. Speed and versatility were rolled into this one huge primered and enhanced mining vehicle.

Her continuous track ground the stones beneath, sending a cloud of dust to the pin-pricked stars. She leaned into the first curve of the strip, squealing gears and stabilizers buffering her against the sway.

Royce cut in front, his tail lights a pair of mocking red eyes in the light of the fading sol.

His feeble attempt to block her was amusing. The pelted scatter of gravel and scream of her rockets resonated through her thin frame, thrilling her heart to the pounding bass on the radio. With a smirk, she activated the tilt mechanism.

The Voodoo shifted to one side, lifting its weight onto a single tread.

She caught a glimpse of Royce’s astonished face as she swerved around him like a frenzied dancer on one foot.

Laughter caught in her throat as she passed him and resettled to the ground, and she gunned her rig to the max.

Just ahead was the climax. The ultimate trial of any Runner’s skill, the Skyfall leap—a ravine wide enough to jump for any hovercraft, but a dangerous drop for most rollers like her own.

Her heart drummed as she prepared the boosters with a switch. Her cigarette had burned out long ago, and she tightened her lips around the butt.

Full throttle, no fear, no regrets.

The edge of the abyss loomed, and she heard the whining desperation of her treads slicing through empty air. Braced herself for the impact. Steady, baby.

She landed with a crash of metal and ripping roadwheels. Checked behind, Royce was close, pressing to the finish.

Victory was soon to be hers. Just ahead, she saw the flashing lights of the finish line.

Wait. Those weren’t the Bunny’s guide signals.

The strobing blue and red belonged to the Admin trackers.

She saw the other kids all hurrying to their rides to escape the law.

There, just to the side, was the Bunny who’d signaled the race. She ran away from the approaching tracker robots, and she stumbled to the ground alongside the course.

Avee felt the urge to stop. She didn’t know the Bunny, and in truth she should slam the Voodoo into full retreat. But the terrified look on the girl’s face stirred sympathy.

Royce had already sped away, abandoning the Bunny and the drag, along with the others.

As the sirens blared, Avee took the chance. She screeched to a halt, and opened the door. Scrambling out, she helped the fallen girl to her feet. Then they both got into the Voodoo, and hauled away at full velocity, narrowly making it back to the colony before the Admin caught up.

They reached safety, and parked not far from the airlock.

“Thanks for rescuing me,” the Bunny said, extending a friendly hand. “Name’s Su. I don’t use the ‘e’ because it’s stupid, and ain’t got no Say.”

“Avee Lyn. Nice to meet you.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Want to go for a ride?”

Su replied with a flirty smile.

A drag lost, but a pretty new friend gained.

It was fair enough.