across the ice. It seemed impossible because they moved like they had ice skates on, but they didn’t. They were sliding along with only their boot bottoms touching the surface. The first rider then skated back to us and stopped right in front of me.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “One of you races slickshot with us. You don’t have to win, just finish.”
“What kind of race is it?” I asked.
The guy pointed out across the ice to the other racers who were skating along.
“It’s a skating race,” he explained. “There’s a course over the ice marked by red arrows. We all skate the course together, first one back here wins.”
“And all we have to do is finish?” I asked.
“It’s not that easy,” the rider explained. “There are five checkpoints. The first one has a tower with six red balls in it. One for each racer. You have to pick up a ball, then skate forward and drop it in a basket before skating to the next checkpoint. That one has six balls too. But the third checkpoint has only five balls. If you’re the last one there, you’re done. The next one has five balls too, but the final checkpoint has only four.”
“So six start the race and only four finish,” I said.
“Exactly,” the guy said. “Finish the race and you can meet the Z.”
“We are not here to play games,” Loor said firmly.
“Too bad,” the rider said with a shrug. “We are.”
With that he turned and started to skate away.
“Wait!” I shouted. “I’ll give it a shot. But I don’t get how you guys are skating without skates.”
The racer skated over to the mouth of the cave. Next to the opening was something we hadn’t seen when we arrived. It was a rack full of the same black helmets like the racers wore. Next to it was a wire bin with close to forty red balls about the size of a grapefruit. I guessed those were the kind of balls that would be at the checkpoints. The guy picked up one of the helmets and skated back to us.
“Attach these to your shoes,” he said while reaching into the helmet. He pulled out two wire frames that looked as if they would fit onto the sole of a shoe. Each one had two yellow pads, one for the front of the foot, one for the back. He then added, “Get used to them. We’ll go set up the course.”
He skated away to join the other racers.
“Maybe I should be the one to race,” Loor said.
“Do you know how to skate?” I asked.
Loor looked down. She didn’t like to admit defeat.
“I do,” I said. “Let me try these things out.”
The wires attached easily to the soles of my boots. One end clamped over my toe, the other attached over my heel. But I didn’t understand how they could work like ice skates, until I put my feet down and pushed off.
“Whoa!” I shouted as I slid across the ice.
The pads must have been made of a superslick material, because I glided over the ice as easily as if I had on hockey skates. It took me all of thirty seconds to get the feel of these things and found they were even easier to control than skates. I played a couple of years of junior hockey, so I was pretty confident on the ice. With these slick pads, I found that I could turn, stop, cut, and skate backward better than at home. My confidence was building.
But we faced a tough decision. Between the two of us, Loor was the athlete. But if she couldn’t skate like me, it didn’t matter how strong she was. She’d never make it to the first checkpoint.
“I think I should be the one to race,” I said to Loor.
Loor nodded. She knew I was right. “Why must we play games?” she snapped. “We are on a serious mission. It should not be decided by a childish competition.”
“I know,” I said. “But let’s do it their way. If I finish, then we’ll get to Zetlin.”
“And if you don’t?” she asked.
I didn’t have an answer to that.
The five racers then skated right up to us and stopped in a group. “Ready?” the one who gave me the helmet asked.
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound like a winner. “Any other rules I should know about?”
The racers laughed again. I hated that.
“Absolutely,” the first racer said. “The main rule is: Anything goes. Finish any way you can.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. But this was their game; I wasn’t going to start arguing the finer points of slickshot. The five racers pushed off toward the starting line. I was about to follow when Loor touched my shoulder. She didn’t say anything; she simply looked into my eyes. I think she was trying to give me some of her strength and confidence. My knees went weak. In that moment I was more worried about letting her down than finding Dr. Zetlin. She gave me a wink and let me go.
I pushed off while putting on my helmet and fitting the goggles over my eyes. I never wanted to win anything more in my life. For her, for me, and even for Aja. I realized that the fate of Veelox might very well be decided on this icy racecourse.
How wrong was that?
(CONTINUED)
VEELOX
The five racers stood shoulder to shoulder at a tall, red post. “This is the start and finish,” the first racer explained. He then pointed out the course. “The first checkpoint is dead ahead.”
I looked across the flat expanse to a wall of ice that rose up in the distance. There I saw a red arrow painted on the face, pointing left.
“Just follow the arrows,” the rider said. “You can’t miss them. Get to the checkpoint, pick up a ball and drop it in the basket. If you miss one ball, you’re out. Got it?”
“Yeah,” I said.
My heart started to pump faster. This was suddenly looking like a bad idea. I had no clue as to how good these guys were. It’s not like they looked like pro speed skaters or anything. Just the opposite. They were all my size. But this was their home ice. I’ll bet they raced this course all the time. This was insane. But I was in it now. All I could hope was that I’d hold on long enough to stay in the race.
“On my go,” the first racer said.
All six of us crouched down, ready to spring forward. “One, two, go!”
What happened to three? This was a bad start. I was already a second behind and the race had barely begun. All I could do was push off and try to catch up, pumping my legs and swinging my arms for momentum. I was surprised to see that these guys didn’t leave me in the dust. Or maybe I should say leave me in the frost. Not only did I keep up with them, I quickly made up the ground I had lost with the bad start. I was still last, but my confidence zoomed. Maybe I had a chance after all.
We quickly arrived at the first arrow and made the turn toward the checkpoint. I made the turn easily, crossing my feet over and trying not to lose too much speed. Up ahead I saw a rack with six of the grapefruit-size red balls. The five other racers quickly snatched one apiece while barely slowing down. I was last, but right there with them.
That is, until the fifth racer knocked the last ball off the rack. The red ball hit the ice and rolled away. I had to come to a full stop to pick it up. No way that was an accident. I guess when they said that “anything goes,” they meant it. I realized there was more to worry about than just keeping pace. These guys cheated.
I snatched up the ball and took off again. A few yards ahead was a steel basket with the first five balls that the other racers had already dumped. I dropped mine off and dug in to catch up.
The other racers were skating easily. None of them looked as if they wanted the lead. That was fine with me. As long as they all were being cautious, I could keep up. This part of the course was a wide-open expanse of ice. I didn’t even look for any red arrows, all I did was follow the guys in front of me.
But it got frustrating because they were all skating in one line, shoulder to shoulder. I had no hope of getting around them. I skated up behind the group, but when I put on some speed to go around, the whole group moved in
