by Andy Briggs
Carson threw up his hands. “Are you serious? We rushed the whole way here!”
The sighting lap allowed racers to test the course out at whatever speed they wanted so they could prepare for the dangers ahead. Without that, Carson would effectively be flying blind.
Marcus Nation winked again and disappeared into the crowd.
They picked their way through the dozen teams who all had their backs to them, their attention on the aircraft on the table. Most drones were in pieces as final adjustments were made. They could see a variety of shapes and tangles of electronics.
They found a free workbench and placed Vanta on it. A quick look around showed the other teams wore furrowed brows, and there was plenty of whispered bickering going on as they feverishly worked on their craft. Trix felt obligated to put her tools on the bench just so it looked as if they had something to do, and Eddie wandered off in search of food.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Carson said quietly to Vanta, trying not to move his lips. He didn’t want anybody seeing he was talking to his drone.
“Completely,” came Vanta’s whispered reply.
After several minutes Eddie hurried back, shovelling chips in his mouth. He jabbed Carson in the ribs. “Uh-oh – seen who’s over there?” He pointed a greasy finger towards a bench at the far end. The matching T-shirts displaying the AirBlitz logo were enough to freeze Carson’s blood and he automatically touched his black eye, remembering.
“I don’t think they’ve seen us,” Carson said just as the AirBlitz pilot, a boy called Terry, he recalled, turned around and spotted them. His face turned beetroot red, no mean feat with the acne rash across his cheeks, and he took a step towards them, only to be held back by a teammate’s hand on his shoulder. They exchanged a quiet joke without moving their eyes from the Carsonators, which was somehow more intimidating. Then they returned to their drone.
“Well, that’s good news,” said Eddie brightly. He was famously bad at reading other people’s body language. “I don’t think they recognized us.”
Trix shot a warning glance at Carson, who shook his head. There was little point in getting wound up before the race. There would be plenty of time afterwards.
Daylight quickly faded behind the clouds and the stadium lights dimmed with it, while neon lights brought the course alive with a riot of colour. Animated red and yellow warning chevrons strobed at sharp corners, hoops and tunnels were picked out in Day-Glo blues, while green lights signalled turns, dips and cliffs. A cheer rose through the stadium as dance music blasted from the speakers. Then Marcus Nation appeared on the screen, pumping his fist and encouraging everybody to “make some noise!”
Carson spotted Marcus not far from the team paddocks, at a bank of monitors where a panel of four judges sat, dressed more like rockers than officials. A cameraman slowly paced in front of him, capturing a low angle so that Marcus appeared like a giant on the screen.
“Welcome to the local Constructor League heat!” He smiled as cheers, applause and party horns honked around the stadium. “We have eighteen teams competing today in three head-to-head heats. Each will consist of three laps around the course. In the first heat, the last eight teams will be cut. Then the semi-final will see only the winning five racers make it through to the final. Each heat will get progressively tougher and challenge our pilots’ wits and skills.”
Carson glanced at the teams around them. There were a few nervous faces, but most of them looked confident and cocky. A few had spotted the Carsonators and laughed as they nudged one another; obviously they thought the kids didn’t pose a threat.
Marcus Nation continued. “The winner will receive a thousand pounds…”
Eddie started to wiggle his arms and hips in a winning jig, until Trix punched him in the arm to stop.
“Second place wins five hundred, third, fourth and fifth get … nothing, zilch, nada! Just the honour of joining the winners in the next stage.”
Carson frowned at Eddie. “What next stage?”
Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought this was a one-off.”
Marcus continued, “…and ultimately at the Constructor League World Championship!”
Now the other teams joined in the cheering and applause.
Trix looked at Carson in surprise. “World championship?”
“I didn’t really read all the details…” In truth, he had only read about the prize money. “Anyway, Eddie’s the one who entered us into this.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t read everything. Who reads the small print?”
Marcus Nation’s voice boomed through the stadium. “Racers! Take your positions!”
Carson was still reeling from the scale of the competition, and he hesitated as the other teams hurried past to the starting grid. Trix grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
“Now’s not the time for stage fright,” she growled. With her hair back in its usual spiky formation, she looked like she meant business. “Get your game face on. We can’t lose this!”
Eddie scooped Vanta up and followed them to the launch grid where the other competitors had placed their aircraft on small raised platforms. It was the first time they’d properly seen their rivals. The screens around the arena zoomed in on each drone, the team name flashing up underneath.
“Wow…” said Eddie as he placed Vanta on the starting line. “A DGI Magic Air! That’s a seriously expensive piece of kit!”
“You’re so easily impressed,” snorted Vanta.
“Sssh!” Carson eyed the other drones. Some were small and could fit into his palm, but most were regular shoebox-sized racing drones, like Vanta but sporting oversized propellers. A couple, including an impressive six-rotored beast – he glanced at the screen to see it was called Sixtus – were the size of microwave ovens.
“This is going to be interesting,” said Trix as she put her Bluetooth headset on, while eyeing a large drone that was encased in spikes like a porcupine. Another had a small buzz-saw blade poking from its head, making it resemble a demented beetle.
Carson cleared his dry throat. “This isn’t normal racing…”
“No.” Trix held the VR headset over Carson’s head. “Remember he mentioned explosions? I think it’s more like a demolition derby.” Carson pulled the headset over his eyes and Trix tightened the strap. “You should really have read the website carefully.”
“Eddie’s the manager. I’m the talent.”
“I’m the talent,” said Vanta over his headset. Trix heard it too and giggled.
Eddie, also listening in, shook his head. “Great, just what our team doesn’t need: more big heads.”
Marcus Nation’s voice boomed over the stadium. “Don’t forget, folks, in the Constructor League, anything goes! This is a full-contact sport!”
“What does ‘full contact’ mean?” came Vanta’s voice over his headset.
“Um…” Looking from Vanta’s point of view, he could see the camera was twitching side to side to get a peek at the other crafts. “Vanta, please stop doing that, it’s making me feel dizzy. Just look straight ahead.”
“Racers! Power those engines!” yelled Marcus Nation.
Across the start line, sixteen electric engines buzzed to life. Some had been kitted out to sound deeper and more menacing. Carson gently nudged the throttle controller and Vanta’s engines silently spooled up.
Vanta sounded concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to steer?”
“I’ve got this,” Carson assured her.
“Get ready!”
Animated numbers on the giant video display started the countdown. Five … then the audience chimed in.
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
Carson’s mouth felt dry and his palms became sweaty. He inhaled a deep breath.
“One!”
Chapter 10
THE FIRST RACE
Almost every other drone was in the air before Carson pushed the throttle forward.
“Let’s
go!” screamed Vanta in his headset.
Carson shoved the throttle to max with one thumb, the other tilting Vanta forward. The little drone was near the back of the pack due to their late entry, the other drones appearing ahead as a jumble of blinking lights.
The crowd cheered as the aircraft entered their first long lap around the stadium. They were moving so fast that they appeared as streaks of light. The motion-tracking cameras dotted around the course were able to pick the leading drones so the crowd could see clearly.
Marcus Nation provided commentary. “It’s no surprise to see Logan46 in the lead, followed by AirBlitz and the Tornados…”
“Logan46?” groaned Carson. He hadn’t seen them in the paddock, and he had hoped that they’d have been satisfied taking home the prize from the other racing league. Did they have to win everything? “Eddie, why didn’t you warn me they were here too? That’s your job!”
Eddie’s muffled reply came from behind him and indicated his mouth was crammed with chips. “They didn’t give me the team roster because we were late. I can’t do everything.”
“You haven’t done anything,” came Trix’s voice from his right. She always stood there during a race, watching the video feed on her iPad. She was not only the team’s mechanic, but essentially a co-pilot. She kept an eye on the track ahead to warn Carson of potential problems and her software usually allowed her to monitor their drone’s vital statistics – engine RPM, temperature, battery life – but Vanta was revealing no data. “Don’t worry about them. Just worry about not coming last.”
That was easier said than done. Without a sighting lap, Carson didn’t know what lay ahead or how Vanta would cope with them. He thought it best to keep back and see how the other competitors coped.
A drone in front of him was suddenly struck from the side by the craft with spikes. The thin spars tore into the smaller drone’s propellers, shattering them. The broken drone spun off uncontrollably into the darkness.
“Now I know what ‘full contact’ means,” said Vanta apprehensively.
“Wipeout! That was nasty!” Marcus Nation yelled cheerfully. “Destructor took out RogueBladez with zero mercy!”
Carson banked behind Destructor, thinking at least he wouldn’t be a threat, as long as he didn’t dare overtake. The outer part of the track completed, the drones followed the green arrows into the obstacle section. It was the usual variety of tunnels, hoops and blocks of concrete positioned to form up-and-under barriers. Carson easily sped through them. Three other drones were not so lucky.
One smashed straight into a concrete block at full speed and actually exploded in a shower of sparks – much to the crowd’s delight.
Vanta wasn’t enjoying herself. “This is barbaric! Are we back in ancient Rome?”
Carson was too focused on piloting her through a tunnel. Only when they were out of the obstacle course and back on the track for lap two did he recall his history lessons.
“That makes us a gladiator! That’s pretty cool.”
“Huh. A pretty slow gladiator,” Vanta muttered.
“She has a point,” said Trix. “Can’t you speed up? At least we’re not last. There’s somebody else behind us.” There was the briefest of pauses. “Oh wait. They’re down and out with an engine problem. Yup, we’re last.”
To add insult to injury, Marcus Nation spoke out. “The battle for first place remains between Logan46 and AirBlitz. And look, who woulda thunk it? Amazingly, bringing up the pack in last place are our kid competitors, the Carsonators.”
“I’m going to short-circuit from shame,” growled Vanta. “I thought you said you could fly?”
“I can’t believe even my drone’s giving me grief!” Carson pushed the throttle forward. “Right. Let’s see what you’ve got!”
Overtaking Destructor on a bend was effortless. The lumbering drone tried to bank into Vanta, but Carson easily avoided the spikes. On the straight he effortlessly weaved through the next six competitors.
“See ya! Wouldn’t wanna be ya!” sang Vanta as they passed by, then turned on to the obstacle course.
Carson had been anticipating the same easy obstacles, but on this lap the race organizers had spiced things up. A thin layer of smoke hung in the air, forcing the racers to slow down so abruptly that one was savagely rear-ended, bumping the drone into a concrete post hidden in the smoke. It broke apart on impact.
Carson pushed Vanta onward. The up-and-under concrete slabs were next – except this time they were moving, powered by a series of motorized wheels that turned the gaps into vengeful mouths that chomped at the drones.
“Carson!” Vanta said in alarm.
“I see it. Don’t worry.” Carson pulled his drone into a hover, alongside several other competitors, and he watched the pattern of clashing slabs repeat itself. “I’ve got this,” he muttered, more to assure himself than the drone.
“Vanta, can you take over if you need to?” Eddie asked over their headsets. He had been watching every moment on the giant screen.
“I’m not sure. And if I could, definitely not quick enough to avoid a crash…”
“OK, Carson, no pressure. Try not to trash another drone.”
A small racer next to Vanta suddenly bolted forward when the pilot saw a gap opening up between the slabs. But he had miscalculated, and a third slab behind smashed down, crushing the drone as flat as a pancake.
Carson heard Vanta gasp but didn’t have time to hesitate. He sent all the power to the engines and bolted forward. Several of his competitors did the same, including Logan46. Carson now found himself amongst the leading pack as they weaved through the traps and shot into the tunnel.
Sweat had built up under Carson’s visor. One bead managed to make it to his eye, making it sting. He blinked furiously, accidentally wobbling Vanta side to side.
“You hit someone!” Trix suddenly yelled.
“Carson! Stop that!” Vanta snapped in his ear.
Carson regained his sight just as they shot out of the tunnel and swept up on to the racetrack for a final lap. A quick check revealed he had clashed rotors with a smaller drone, knocking it to the back of the pack.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Vanta said with a trace of irritation.
Carson positioned himself behind AirBlitz, who was hanging in third place. “Sorry. But we’ve got this. A straight lap around the track and we’re in the lead.”
He was vaguely aware of Marcus Nation’s commentary, which he had managed to drown out to almost a background buzz. “Logan46 takes the lead, Sixtus is next, followed by AirBlitz! They have everything to race for.”
“We’ve got company,” Vanta warned him. Her camera briefly glanced to the side, revealing the buzz-saw drone edging closer. The spinning blade extended out towards Vanta. She quickly looked away.
“I can’t see—” said Carson.
There was a sudden white flash and Carson saw the flaming remains of the buzz-saw drone cut across his path.
“What just happened?”
“There’s something on the track ahead!” said Trix urgently. “Something big! Go left!”
Carson didn’t hesitate. His thumbs moved the stick before he saw that a lorry trailer had been deliberately parked across the track, forcing the racers back on to the obstacle course earlier than before. Logan46 and AirBlitz made last-minute turns – both drones raising sparks from their undercarriages as they scraped along the trailer.
A more cumbersome drone made the turn too late. Three propellers on one side sheared off, sending it into an unrecoverable spin that took out a competitor behind. Carson couldn’t help but cackle with dark delight as he edged into the lead.
The detour meant that they had been shunted on to the obstacle course from the wrong side. The last two laps had given the racers a false sense of security, but now going through it backwards was completely unfamiliar and involved a series of blazing hoops that hadn’t been there earlier.
“Hot! Hot! Hot!” squeaked Vanta as they flew thro
ugh the flames.
“Sorry!”
“The other two are right on my tail!” she warned.
Carson marvelled as a small video appeared in the corner of his visor, showing his rivals just behind him. He hadn’t even noticed Vanta had a camera there.
“I’m going flat-out!” Carson shouted, carried away by the excitement.
“I can go much faster, but your radio receiver is holding me back. If you give me control…”
“I’ve got it.”
“But Carson—”
“I’m in control!”
“They’re gaining on me!”
Sure enough, Carson watched as the two drones drew either side of him. They were bigger and their intentions were clear – to swat Vanta between them. All three entered the tunnel at the same time. Carson could see them both move slightly apart as Vanta’s camera panned quickly between them in panic. Then they swooped sideways for the crush!
Carson pulled the throttle back hard. Vanta slowed almost instantly and he laughed out loud as the two bullies collided with one another as they raced ahead. Unfortunately they hadn’t caused any serious damage to one another, and now Carson was relegated to third place.
Fourth – as Sixtus swept past him. Vanta and Trix were already screaming “Go! Go! Go!” at him as he accelerated forward. But try as he might, AirBlitz and Logan46 were now too far ahead. Vanta banked on the final straight, the animated neon arrows now pointing towards the finish line. The race was on for third place. He didn’t hear a peep from Vanta as he drew alongside Sixtus. The bigger drone attempted to bump him, but a quick jiggle of the stick put Vanta just out of reach. The move had cost Sixtus precious speed, and Carson inched ahead and before he knew it—
“The race is over!” screamed Marcus Nation. “AirBlitz take gold, Logan46 silver and – from the back of the pack, the surprising newcomers – the Carsonators steal third place!”
Chapter 11
EVERY LOSER WINS
Carson sighed as he watched the AirBlitz and Logan46 teams standing on the podium, accepting their prizes before the applauding audience. Unlike most other sports, there was no bronze medal.
