Contents
Space Race
Copyright © 2021 Nathan Hystad
Books By Nathan Hystad
SeaTech Racer Number 11
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Space Battle (Space Race 2)
Lost Contact (The Bridge Squence Book 1)
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Copyright © 2021 Nathan Hystad
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover art: Tom Edwards Design
Edited by: Christen Hystad
Edited by: Scarlett R Algee
Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules
Books By Nathan Hystad
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Baldwin’s Legacy
Confrontation
Unification
Culmination
Hierarchy
Lineage
Legacy
The Survivors Series
The Event
New Threat
New World
The Ancients
The Theos
Old Enemy
New Alliance
The Gatekeepers
New Horizon
The Academy
Old World
New Discovery
Old Secrets
The Deities
New Beginning
New Lies
The Resistance Series
Rift
Revenge
Return
The Manuscript
Lights Over Cloud Lake
Red Creek
Return to Red Creek
Prologue
Nineteen Years Ago
My Pod door closed, and I stared through the viewscreen, letting my senses acclimate to the interior. I adjusted the brightness of the cramped cabin and lowered the thrust-to-burn ratio just enough to feel the vibrations in my leather seat change from a dull throb to a consistent buzzing.
I was always nervous leading up to these events, especially the finals in the Primary Pod Under Eighteen Cup, but the moment I sat in my Pod, everything calmed. The worries and doubts stayed outside, and all I felt was confidence and strength.
“You’ve been through this before,” I whispered to myself. The other four Pods were lined up over the desert landscape in central Oasis land. I’d been on this track a few times, but never this exact variation. The course designers ensured none of the contestants had any advantages. Regardless of that, I felt like I possessed an edge.
While the other participants each had a silly talisman—pieces of jewelry or printed photos of loved ones—hidden away in their jumpsuits, I didn’t need one. My grandfather was in my ear, talking me through the race, and that was all the luck I’d ever need.
“Hawk, are you all set?” Grandpa’s voice was reassuring, a pillar of calm strength in my earpiece.
“Yes, sir.” No one had won three Cups before, and I was on the verge of making history.
“Just remember. You’re Hawk Lewis, and none of these kids hold a digital beam to you, okay?”
I nodded, knowing he couldn’t see me. “I won’t let you down.”
A slight pause. “You could never disappoint me, son. Now get prepped. We launch in sixty.”
The moment he said it, the clock began ticking down in my viewscreen.
“Welcome to the Primary Pod Under Eighteen Cup! Oasis is pleased to have you here, and I wish the contestants luck.” The Oasis CEO was typically a dour man, but today, he was all smiles in the corner of my screen. My mouth went dry, seeing the dozens of filming drones hovering near the first checkpoint. I hated watching the footage afterward, and tried not to think of the millions of people tuning in at this second. “This portion is sponsored by Ice Water from Oasis. For all your ice mining needs, use Ice Water tools. Link your PersaTab to learn more.”
I cringed at the blatant advertising. That was all these events were to the Primary Corporations: a medium to sell their wares to the other corporations watching. I heard my dad’s voice in the back of my head and smirked to myself. He was rubbing off on me, despite my grandfather’s executive status with the powerful Luna Corp. Heck, I was in a Sage Industries Pod right now, so what could I complain about? Without their backing, I’d be living in squalor like the other kids I’d grown up with.
I shoved all of that from my mind as the clock lowered to ten, counting down to one. Varn Wallish sped ahead of me as the Race began, and I chuckled. He was in a Sage Pod as well, in an unprecedented feat. Never had two Pods from a single Primary made it to the final race in the Cup before. I wasn’t about to let Varn steal my spotlight.
“Nice work, Hawk.” My grandfather insisted on calling me that during the races, and I let it urge me on. Fly like a hawk, he always said. Be a bird of prey. Soar with the wind, and hunt the others like you own the skies, because, Arlo, you do.
The first checkpoint was a glowing green ring, easily spotted about the rusty red landscape below. The ground was rocky, with shale-covered hills and very little vegetation, and I clipped a cactus as I dipped lower, taking a different approach than the others. It was midday, and the sun was slightly behind us, our Pods racing into the east away from the burning orb.
Varn was slightly ahead as he entered the Ring, and the racers from Lotus, Espace, and Oasis trailed behind me. I knew all of the pilots from my five years of competitive racing, and had yet to lose to any of them. Today wasn’t going to be any different. They would have watched endless footage of my previous Cup victories, but I was going off a varied playbook today.
I had to keep them on their toes, not using the same strategy in any major races, because it would give me an advantage. Varn stayed high, hoping to use the gentle breeze behind us in this leg, where I kept low, sending dust away with the burn of my thrusters.
My heartrate sped up as I identified the second Ring, a blue glow from two hundred meters away. From there, I knew
