Part 40 (1/2)

'I think I'll race with Team Lombardi.'

The media scrum erupted - with shouted questions and flash photos, but Jason was done.

He just stepped back into his pit bay, ignoring them, ending the press conference. He looked at his team: the diminutive Bug, the smiling Sally McDuff, and the serious Scott Syracuse.

'Well, people,' he said. 'I don't think I believe it yet myself. But in two days' time, we're gonna be racing in the New York Masters.'

Thirty minutes later, the media throng had departed, having got their story, and Jason found himself standing in his pit bay, alone, tidying up after the race.

But then, across the way from him, he saw Xavier, also alone, also packing up his gear.

For some reason that he didn't understand, Jason went over to him.

'Good race today, Xavier,' he said.

Xavier didn't even acknowledge Jason's presence, just kept packing.

'Okay, then...' Jason turned to go.

'By any reckoning, I'm a better racer than you are,' Xavier's voice said from behind him.

Jason turned back.

Xavier was glaring at him now, his eyes icy. 'All year it's been apparent. My speed tolerances are better. My cornering. My pa.s.sing. My crew. In every facet of racing, I am better than you are. Which is why I cannot understand how on earth you beat me today. I should be racing in the Masters.'

Jason just stared back at him, held his ground. 'You know why I beat you today, Xavier?'

'Why?'

'Because of everything you just said. You are better than me. You have heaps more natural talent than I do. But I work harder than you do. That's why I won. And that's why you've been scared of me all year - that's why you sent Dido to distract me, that's why you sent her to get information on me. And that's why, Prince Xavier, if we ever meet again on a racetrack, I'll beat you there too. Have a nice life.'

And with that, Jason turned his back on Xavier and walked away.

CHAPTER SIX.

NEW YORK CITY, USA (WEDNESDAY) PARADE DAY.

The floats worked their way down Fifth Avenue, bearing on their backs the sixteen racers who would compete in the Masters.

All of New York had come out to see them. The streets of the city were lined with over 10 million people, waving and throwing streamers. Ticker-tape fell from the upper heights of the skysc.r.a.pers, mingling with the ever-present confetti snow.

Jason, Sally and the Bug stood atop a gigantic papiermache float - built in the shape and colours of the Argonaut - waving to the cheering crowds.

On the other floats, Jason saw some familiar faces. Alessandro Romba.

La Bomba Romba. The current world champion and, this year, the winner in Sydney, London and Italy: if he won the Masters this week, he'd become the first racer ever to win the Golden Grand Slam, all four Grand Slam races in a single calendar year.

And on another float: Fabian.

The nasty Frenchman whom Jason had humiliated in the exhibition race in Italy.

Etienne Trouveau - Fabian's equally villainous teammate; the man who had taken out Jason's tailfin so ruthlessly in Italy.

And the two US Air Force pilot-racers, Angus Carver and Dwayne Lewicki - the crowd gave them a huge cheer.

At one point during the parade, Jason made eye-contact with Fabian.

The Frenchman smiled at him, and then formed his fingers into a gun and - his smile vanis.h.i.+ng - pulled the trigger.

While Jason and the others were out on Fifth Avenue, the Argonaut - the tough little Argonaut - sat in a Team Lombardi pit bay on Sixth Avenue being overhauled.

Umberto Lombardi may not have been able to give Jason a brand-new race-ready car to compete in the Masters, but he could give the Argonaut a bit of an upgrade: some brand-new compressed-air thrusters and a crate-load of the best magneto drives money could buy - a full set of Ferrari XP-7s.

No longer was the Argonaut a hodge-podge of wildly different parts - now, internally at least, it was the complete package.

Externally, however, Lombardi didn't change a thing. The only thing he got his workmen to do on the outside of the car was give the Argonaut a complete repainting and polis.h.i.+ng - not in the colours of Team Lombardi, but in its own original colours: blue, white and silver.

When it came out of the garage later that afternoon - when Jason and the others had returned from the parade - the Argonaut positively sparkled. It was ready to race.

Throughout the rest of the day, Jason and his team stayed away from all the formal race functions - dinners, sponsors' events, drinks parties.

Having seen how vacuous those things were both in Italy and at Race School, Jason, Sally and the Bug just didn't care for them.

They just stayed at the official practice track out on Long Island Sound - putting the new-and-improved Argonaut through its paces - before returning to Jason's cousins' house in New Jersey late in the afternoon.

That evening, the entire extended Chaser family, the McDuff clan, Ariel Piper and Scott Syracuse sat around the dinner table, discussing tactics.

'The important thing is the elimination system,' Syracuse said. 'Over the course of the four races, a leaderboard is used. Like at Race School, you get 10 points for winning, down to 1 point for coming 10th - and a flat zero points if you DNF. At the end of each race, the last four racers on the leaderboard get eliminated. So: in Race 1, 16 racers compete; in Race 2, 12; in Race 3, 8, and in the final race, only 4.

'As such, the first race is simple,' he said. 'If you come in one of the last four, you're out. If you survive the first race, then elimination depends on where everyone finishes in the subsequent races.'

'And don't forget the Bradbury Principle,' Henry Chaser, ever the armchair expert, said. His eyes twinkled as he said it.

'Yes, Dad,' Jason sighed, shaking his head.

'Hey look!' one of his cousins yelled from in front of the TV. 'You can bet on Jason!'

Everyone turned to see that the TV news was reporting on the gambling odds being offered for the Masters. A representative from the main internet gambling company, InterBet, was summarising the available odds.