Mitchell's Revenge

Rufus was pleased with himself. His plan to make the final three worked. He was sure Maxim Volkov had more speed than he’d clocked during the time trial, but he wasn’t so sure about Eris Winter. She might have the fastest qualifying time, but he wondered whether she could do it again with two other flyers on the course. Rufus had practiced with Peter Wesseling in the days leading up to the race and was comfortable with two. He was confident he could handle three.

Lauri’s pre-race briefing made it clear that the winner must complete the course in under seventeen minutes, and cross the line first. Maxim knew he could do it, as did Eris. When Lauri’s instructions were complete the pilots moved away. Bolter was waiting to help Rufus into his race craft.

“Be careful out there,” he said. “Don’t trust Volkov. I don’t think he’s on the level. He’s much too calm for my liking. Winter is nervous, which is a good sign. I think she’ll play fair, but I don’t think he will.”

“Don’t worry,” replied Rufus. “Peter and I did some research. Volkov plays dirty. We managed to get hold of a vid record from his last race. He used every trick in the book to win. Peter’s run me through some ideas to deal with him. I’ll just have to stay calm.”

Bolter smiled. “Keep your nose clean! Good luck.”

He shook hands with Rufus and let him settle into the pilots’ seat. Rufus fixed his helmet over his head. The space invader motif glittered from the back of it. Bolter left him to complete his pre-flight checks. There was nothing more he could do to assist Rufus now, so he made his way to the control room. Nadezhda was already there, along with Iris and Nyx. They stood at the viewing screen to watch.

The pilots emerged from the docking bays one after the other and flew towards the start. Maxim dodged and weaved around the other two like a fly badgering a horse. His red neon trace floated out around the other craft, over their noses and hulls. Rufus ignored him, flew through the red trace and into a lazy circle that brought him to the start. Eris followed suit. Their green and fuchsia traces glowed for a moment and then vanished.

Maxim continued to dart about and Lauri began to think he would miss the start altogether. As Lauri counted down from five to go, Maxim eased in between the other two. The craft hovered on the starting line. At “go” they shot forward towards the first pylon. They spread out just enough to avoid catching each other’s wing tips. Rufus was slightly in front at the first pylon, but the other two were close behind. And too close to each other.

Maxim suddenly pulled his craft towards the Topernicus insignia which caused Eris to jerk her craft away. She momentarily lost the line between the pylons, then settled in behind Maxim instead. Rufus saw what was happening behind him and raced to increase the gap between himself and the other two craft. He was at the second pylon before he realised what was happening and almost touched it with his wingtip.

He skittered around it and accelerated away towards the third pylon. The other two craft were in hot pursuit. Eris pulled past Maxim as they rounded the second pylon and began to close the gap between herself and Rufus. He saw her coming up behind him and rounded the next pylon as close as he dared. His neon green trace vanished as it connected with the surface of the pylon. Eris was very close now. Rufus focussed on the next pylon and then then next, finding his rhythm as he went. He couldn’t seem to find any more speed. The craft was not responding as it had in practice.

Eris stayed right behind him. He wondered when she would make her move. With his focus forward on the next pylon, Rufus didn’t see the red of the IGM logo right next to him until he was decelerating into the turn. Maxim had somehow made up the distance between them and was pushing for the lead. He was also trying to push Rufus into the pylon as he edged closer and closer to the younger pilot.

Rufus was aware of Eris behind him and realised that if he slowed or changed his line he would cause her to crash. The pylon was getting very, very near.

He flipped his craft onto its side and flattened it as close to the pylon as he dared. Eris and Maxim shot past him on the turn. They went wide, but Rufus was now coming last. He accelerated hard towards the next pylon trying to close the gap between himself and the other two. Something was wrong. He had little acceleration and could feel himself dropping behind.

In front of him Maxim was still trying to edge Eris off her line. She responded by moving towards him. He kept his line. Rufus watched the two craft getting closer and closer. He felt as if he was caught in slow motion as they played a cat and mouse game with each other. He tried not to panic. He knew he could get past them if he could just get a little more speed.

In the control room, Lauri could not bear to watch. The clock read twelve minutes. They were well into the race. He was still confident that Rufus could win. But he hadn’t counted on some kind of malfunction with the craft. Here was another ship not responding to its pilot as expected. He could have sworn they had fixed all the problems with their ships since that first accident all those months ago. Just as he recognised that Rufus was experiencing a lack of acceleration, the little craft surged forward.

Lauri breathed a sigh of relief. He had his life savings tied up in the outcome of this race, along with his future livelihood with Universal Starship Enterprises. If Rufus didn’t win, he knew he would be broke and jobless. He hoped desperately that Rufus could catch the other two. He stared past the backs of the others at the viewing screen and prayed for a miracle.

Meanwhile, Erik Stern finished his second very large glass of vodka. He sat motionless on the deck of his apartment, the half empty vodka bottle beside him. He was pleasantly drunk. It numbed the pain of the fact that he was about to lose a very large sum of money, and quite possibly his business.

He poured himself another glass as he watched the race through a powerful personal viewing device that amplified the activity in the sky above him. It was a warm still night. Those watching from the ground in Covington could see clearly what was going on. It looked like the rookie long shot was not going to win. The red trace from the IGM craft appeared to be everywhere on the course. It was currently neck a neck with the fuchsia trace of the pilot from Topernicus. The red trace eased into the lead.

Three blocks away Tim and Sibil sat on the deck of their apartment staring at the sky. Tim hadn’t spoken since the start of the race. He opened another bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. Sibil sipped hers as she watched.

“I really hope that woman wins,” she said quietly. “Lucy can’t be the only great female pilot in the universe!” Tim smiled at her.

“Glad to see you’re supporting the women!”

“Somebody has to,” she replied. She took another sip from her glass. The alcohol numbed the misery that had enveloped her this evening when she thought about Anja. So close, and yet so far. If she slept at all tonight it would be a miracle.

“Look!” said Tim suddenly. “Rufus is catching up.”

At Tiberion spaceport, Jake sat in his Captain’s chair on the bridge of Mitchell’s Revenge watching the race on vid relay. He too thought he was about to lose a large sum of money. He’d given Erik a large portion of his merc earnings to invest in the harebrained scheme to rescue the company from financial ruin. He felt sick as he watched the green trace unable to gain speed.

He couldn’t risk a drink this evening because he’d need his wits about him tomorrow. The sugar from the fruit juice he was drinking was making the nerves worse. He sat on the edge of his seat urging Rufus to catch the IGM pilot. The gap between Rufus and the other two craft wasn’t getting any wider, but it wasn’t narrowing either. The boy was going to need some magic to win from here. Jake blinked at the screen. The gap was narrowing.

Rufus caught them. The three of them rounded the pylon in a line. Rufus accelerated hard and inched away from the pack. Maxim tipped his left wing towards Eris, touching her right wing. She responded by dropping away from him. She then moved behind him and sat as close to him as she could. He accelerated after Rufus. She stayed right behind Maxim.

Rufus wanted to give himself some distance from them. He kept accelerating towards the next pylon.

In the control room the watchers at the viewing screen were holding their breath. They thought there was no way Rufus could round the pylon at that speed and keep his line for the next one. Maxim and Eris stayed right behind him, accelerating just as he did. The clock was ticking down. They were approaching the final three pylons.

Rufus had his rhythm back. He knew he could finish under seventeen minutes provided the two behind him didn’t get any closer. He shot round the pylon and corrected his course for the next one. Maxim miscalculated the speed of the turn and flew wide of the pylon. He corrected too late.

Eris held her nerve and rounded the pylon after Rufus. She accelerated hard, but was too slow to catch him. They danced around the last two pylons and finished within a fraction of a second of each other. The time was sixteen minutes, twenty four seconds, and a fraction. Maxim came in ten seconds later.

Lauri was astounded. Three pilots who flew the course in under seventeen minutes. He was sure that Maxim Volkov could have won if he hadn’t been so busy trying to distract his opponents. He was also certain that something had happened to Rufus’ craft mid race. He looked towards the four at the viewing screen. Bolter was bouncing up and down on his toes in excitement at Rufus’ win. Lauri sidled up to him and clapped him on the back.

“Something happened to Rufus out there,” he said quietly to the master technician. Bolter nodded his agreement. “Let’s get down there now. We need to check the craft as soon as it comes in.”

They left the control room and headed quickly towards the tarmac.