Part 40 (2/2)

Jason was a rank outsider to win the Masters - his odds were the highest of any racer: 1500-to-1.

But what surprised Jason was the amount of different betting options that were available to the keen gambler: You could bet on Jason making it through Race 1 (100-to-1).

You could bet on him making it to Race 4 (575-to-1).

But then there were the more complex bets.

Jason coming in the Top 3 overall.

Jason coming in the Top 5 overall.

Jason placing in the Top 3 in any race (naturally the odds for Race 1 were shorter than those for, say, Race 3, since he'd have to avoid eliminations to get to Race 3).

Jason placing in the Top 5 in any race.

Jason was a little overwhelmed by it all. He'd always loved racing, but he'd never taken an interest in the gambling side of it.

'Hmmm. I'm not much of a gambler,' Martha Chaser said tentatively, 'but I might just put a dollar on you to win the whole thing. I could buy myself one of those fancy new sewing machines. Mmmm.'

After a time, dinner broke up, and Jason and the Bug went to their bedroom. They wanted a good night's sleep before tomorrow's racing.

Before he climbed into bed, though, Jason had a thought - and he went online, checking something... something about the gambling odds on him in Italy.

Hmmm, he thought, gazing at the screen, before flicking it off.

Then his parents came in, wished him and the Bug good night, switched the lights off, and left.

Jason lay in the dark for a long time - long after the Bug had fallen silent - staring at the ceiling. Then he rolled over to go to sleep.

As he did so, someone came into the bedroom behind him and sat down on the floor between his bed and the Bug's.

It was their father, Henry Chaser.

'Boys,' he whispered, a.s.suming they were asleep. 'I just wanted you both to know something. I am so very proud of you - not for reaching the Masters, but just for being who you are and conducting yourselves as you have. Tomorrow, win or lose, it doesn't matter, I still love you both. You just do your best and enjoy the experience. I hope you have the time of your lives.'

Henry sniffed back some tears.

Then he stood up quickly and left the room.

Jason smiled in his bed.

He didn't know it, but across from him, in the other bed, the Bug was also wide awake and listening.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

NEW YORK CITY, USA (THURSDAY).

RACE 1: THE LIBERTY SUPERSPRINT.

LAP: 1 OF 40.

Lightning speed.

Blurring skysc.r.a.per canyons.

Slow-falling confetti.

Roaring crowds.

And absolutely brutal racing.

Race 1 of the New York Masters introduced Jason to a whole new level of hover car racing.

This wasn't just fast.

It was desperate. You did everything you could to stay out of the bottom four...and stay alive.

The course for the Liberty Supersprint wasn't dissimilar to the course Jason had raced in the Challenger Race - except that this track never left Manhattan Island, save for the downward run to the treacherous Liberty's Elbow.

But this course was tight, sharp, a never-ending series of right-angled turns up and down Manhattan Island - as a driver, you never got a chance to rest your mind. If you lost your concentration for a second, you'd find yourself missing a turn and skidding out over the demag lights or into a Dead Zone.

In short, Race 1 was murder on mag drives - which was very deliberate. It made taking Liberty's Elbow even harder.

On the first corner of the race, Etienne Trouveau made a barely-concealed swipe at Jason's tailfin.

But Jason - wiser from his similar experience at Race School and loving the extra speed of his new-and-improved Argonaut - had expected it and he evaded the move with skill.

Welcome back to the big leagues , was the message. Twisting, turning, banking, racing.

Sixteen racers, but only twelve could progress to Race 2. Fabian shot to the lead - Closely pursued by La Bomba Romba - Jason slotted into 14th place, racing hard, yet within range of elimination.

But he liked this course. It suited the light-and-nimble Argonaut. The never-ending sequence of short straights

and 90-degree turns suited the smaller cars - in the city, there wasn't a single street-section long enough for the

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