The guard looked down the track. The other pair of guards is coming down the other side, he guessed. He climbed into a boxcar, and declared it empty. His comrade moved on to the next car, a flatcar. Seeing no one on the empty deck, he walked to the next car, a gondola. Silicon chips filled it almost to the edge, meaning this one should be easy to check. He climbed the ladder.
      Then the airhorn sounded again. The train was leaving! The guard jumped to the ground as the car lurched from the slack and inertia. His partner activated a small radio, and yelled into the microphone, telling the operator to hold the train. The steel monster of transportation still accelerated, leaving the aggravated guards behind. The security car rolled lazily by, signaling the end of the train.
      Kyu dared not look over the side of the gondola, for fear of being discovered. He waited until the train began to pick up speed to sit up and see where he was. He watched as the city slowly disappeared behind him. The train would reach the Manitoba-Saskatchewan border in two hours. Then would come the problem of disembarking from the train.
      Kyu stared at his watch as he’d done for the past two hours. He noticed the train begin to slow, and climbed over the end of the car to a handrail, fumbled around the corner, and readied himself to jump to the ground as the big turbines slowed to fifteen miles per hour-necessary for inspecting the train for free riders. He watched as the creek bridge came up, and no doubt the guards would be down the main line about a thousand feet. He jumped as the land rose again to meet the roadbed. A large, flat, uncomfortable rock broke his fall. Try and land on dirt next time, Kyu, he thought to himself. Or bring a mattress along...
      He stood up and dusted himself off. The ridge was only half a mile away, and so was the path through what used to be the sloping rear pasture of his uncle’s farm. He ran like the wind, excitement sending shivers down his spine. Feeling much like he did on his first visit, Kyu ran to the back porch where his uncle was stepping out to fill a bird feeder.
      “Kyu!” his uncle exclaimed. He was a tall man, with a young-looking face, but his hair and beard were rapidly turning white. He had his blue jacket and jeans on, instead of the sport coat and golf shirt Kyu was used to.
      “I certainly didn’t expect to see you all the way out here today, nephew.”
      “I know. I wanted to come out and see how the car’s coming, maybe take a ride.”
      “Well, I can’t do much today,” Uncle Walt said as they stepped back into the house. “I twisted my ankle pretty bad yesterday, trying to fit the carburetor on that Stingray.”
      “Aw, man.” Kyu felt dejected. No carburetor on the car meant no trips, and the paint still hadn’t arrived, so he couldn’t do that. He sank down into a chair, not seeing the look of realization on his uncle’s face.
      “Of course! Do you know what’s in the barn, Kyu?”
      “Just a bunch of junk and my car. What else is there?”
      “They never got my entire collection four years ago, Kyu. I still have one car.”
      “You do?” Kyu looked up at his uncle and wondered. Is it the big red convertible? he hoped. The one whose name I could never pronounce? The one that went so fast it seemed it would fly? Could he have saved my favorite of them all?
      They stepped out of the old ranch house, and walked to the barn. Kyu ran down the embankment and lunged for the door. His uncle stepped behind him, and they pulled on the barn door with all their strength.
      Kyu looked around. He saw nothing but the Stingray, a deteriorating farm wagon, haphazardly stacked tools rusting away, and a stack of vegetable crates against the rear wall, where the barn foundation dug in to the sloping hill.
      “Over here,” Uncle Walt motioned. He walked towards the towering mound of vegetable crates. Kyu walked over and looked at them. Some were filled with old magazines and books, some had tools, others held assorted toys and odds and ends that were probably useless by now. One crate was filled with all sorts of outdated recording devices and related recordings. There were old vinyl albums of various sizes, two types of magnetic cassette, and a few particularly
shiny discs the size of a saucer Kyu told himself he’d investigate sometime.
      “Time to go to work, Kyu,” his uncle said. Kyu began to remove the musty crates with his uncle’s help, and soon they were standing in front of a canvas sheet about six feet high, and six wide. Uncle Walt took the sheet off the wall, unhooking the grommets from the nails in a simple doorframe. The space revealed held a large canvas-covered shape and a rope.
      “Grab the rope-let’s pull it out,” Uncle Walt instructed. Kyu grabbed the tired cord and, with his uncle in front of him, heaved as hard as his muscles could bear. They heaved again and again, and once more to pull the heavy object into the center of the room. Kyu grabbed hold of the cover, and threw it back to reveal a shining car-a brilliant red Barchetta, a relic from a better, long vanished time.
      It gleamed. The flashy red coat of paint felt as smooth as glass as Kyu ran his hand over the hood. The chrome sparkled even in the dim light of the barn. Its interior, done in soft white leather (!), looked as comfortable as the day it was bought.
      “The 1975 Barchetta ‘Road Racer’ Custom Convertible,” Uncle Walt mused. “Also known as ‘The Terror Of Winnipeg’. I bought it off of an old friend in ‘86 who was always getting in trouble for racing on the highways. They installed a racing engine at the factory, but that wasn’t enough for Jason-he wanted to do zero to sixty in half a second! He totally rebuilt the rearend assembly and transmission-and sometimes, when he’d floor it, he’d tear up his
modifications! He also revamped the engine every once in a while-just to get a little more horsepower out of it than before.”
      “Wow!” Kyu exclaimed. “Is it still that fast?”
      “Yes, and no. I took the rearend and transmission back to factory specifications, but the engine still has a few little upgrades he added. Most of them I had to redo, some I removed altogether, but one important one is the carburetor. I replaced the original because Jason wore the hell out of that one-and I still can’t figure out how he did it without the rest of that engine falling apart around it!”
      “It’s still gotta be pretty fast-I remember you taking me for a ride the one year and we went so fast I thought we’d take off!”
      “Well, it came with a 180-mile-per-hour speedometer for the racing engine, but I’ve only ever taken her up to 145, maybe 150-and that was on a racetrack where the road surface was good. Don’t try that out here-the roads are deteriorating fast nowadays.”
      Kyu stared at the beautiful machine in wonder. What was it like, driving in 1975? he pondered. All the Corvettes and Chargers and old T-Birds and Fairlanes still running all over-that would have been something to see!
      But this... This would have really stood out...
      He opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat. The comfortable leather seat seemed to welcome him into the car as he looked at the interior, the gauges, and most longingly of all, the steering wheel.
      “Why not take her for a spin?” his uncle suggested. “You can go ahead, but I’ll have to stay behind what with this ankle. Go ahead, I trust you.” Kyu sat in the car, mouth open, in surprise. Uncle Walt thought for a second, and said, “Oh, yes, the key... Now where did I hide it?” He reached up to the rusty lantern on a nearby post and felt around the base.
      “Aha,” he said, decisively. He pulled down a key on a ring with a plastic tag that said, on one side, ‘Large Larry’s Used Cars-Large Deals At Low Prices’. The other had a note taped to it. Kyu could just see the writing on it. It read, “Walt-Barchetta key. Can’t find original key tag. Thanks for trading Barracuda. Jason.”
      Tossing the key to Kyu, he mentioned, “I saw some MLEC cars go up the road, and come back down this morning. Be extremely careful, Kyu.”
      “I will, Uncle,” Kyu replied.
      Kyu slid the key into the slot, and turned. The big motor churned to life, and Kyu pressed the gas, the engine responding with a roar.
      “Just be careful,” Uncle Walt said as Kyu eased the car out of the barn.
      “Sure,” he replied. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
      Kyu gunned the engine, and rolled up the driveway, turning on to the road. The pavement was worn, but still driveable. He looked down the deserted main road, and thought, What the hey, Let’s see what she can do.
      He floored the engine. The beautiful car shot forward and roared down the pavement in anticipation of what lay ahead. He turned, climbing a large hill, and running into a cut in the mountain behind. Within a few more turns, and still more climbing, lay a tunnel. Kyu fired up the engine, accelerating like he was being chased by monsters.
      Bursting through the tunnel, he topped 120 miles per hour. The Barchetta showed no signs of wearing down as Kyu shot from the tunnel portal, with a fearsome wake of air rushing in behind. He reached the summit for the mountain, and slowed for a junction. He made a turn onto a larger four-lane highway, just as abandoned as all the roads were out here.
      Kyu felt the wind rush through his hair, flying it all to the rear, and messing up his usually-styled mane. Under his expert hand, the beautiful Barchetta raced onward, nary a drift out of line more than he allowed. He listened as the engine, the wonderful mystery of internal combustion sang under the racy hood, and the transmission, shifting, barely perceptibly playing its
mechanical symphony.
      He felt the adrenaline firing through his body. He pushed the car on faster and further than he could ever remember going.
      The leather seat seemed to get more comfortable mile after mile. Kyu could smell the hot metal, the lube oil, all the scents of the engine, excepting the smelly exhaust, streaming back at him. All of those, mixed with the countryside’s natural scent (caused, Kyu guessed, by the flowers that ran rampant across the fields) made it a driving experience he would never forget no matter how he tried, nor would he ever want to.
      The Barchetta’s chrome trim gleamed. The countryside, the mountains, they all blurred as Kyu and the amazing car rocketed past. Kyu felt everything there was to feel, every nerve in his body screaming to go faster, farther, longer, not wanting to take his foot off of the accelerator until he’d broken the speed of sound. He sped on, loving every minute of the race with nobody he
was so intent on winning.
      A jumpsuited man lowered his electrobinoculars as the red car raced off into the distance. He sat back down in his own vehicle, and activated the nuclear engine, alerting another driver to the activity in the area. Then he drove away.
      Kyu sped on, the needle hovering at one hundred-ten as he came around a wide, easy curve. He was descending back into the valley, and he rocketed along the highway with ease.
      Things just can’t get any better, he thought. He’d been out for two hours by now, and had made a couple stops to investigate an old farmhouse and a small industry. Neither one contained much of interest to Kyu, and he didn’t waste much time there. He decided to cut this run short because he’d have to catch the train home again in about two hours more.
      Then it happened. Kyu, getting back in the Barchetta from the latter stop, happened to look up at the road across the mountainside about a mile in front of him. A metallic gleam flashed across the mountainside and Kyu knew it was only one thing: MLEC patrol!
      He jumped into the seat, gunned the engine, and took off like a shot. The enforcement cruiser, an alloy vehicle two lanes wide, with a large electromagnetic gun mounted on one side and a large cockpit on the other, raced through the valley, screaming in behind the Barchetta.
      Kyu drove like a madman, flying for the onramp to the highway he’d disembarked. He knew the territory well, thanks to his uncle. Unfortunately, so did the enforcer. His aircar flew behind, catching up almost effortlessly, but slowly.
      He won’t be able to turn on a divided highway, so if I can make a U-turn at a junction, I might be able to lose him, Kyu thought. He put the pedal to the metal, rocketing ahead, and putting the Barchetta through a serious test. His speed read almost a hundred and sixty as he jetfired down the highway, whose surface was still in good enough shape to make such a trip. He jammed on the brakes, and hung the turn. He was on the other side! He’d escaped!
      Then Kyu looked ahead. Another was streaking towards him! No! Our combined speed must be more than three hundred miles an hour! Kyu panicked. He threw the car into a J-turn, braking frantically, tires screaming at the torture they were experiencing. Slamming hard as a hammer on the accelerator, Kyu screamed ahead like a gleaming red demon, pursued by the enforcers all the while.
      He led them down the highway, still unsure what he could do to survive, but one thing was for sure: Kyu, get the hell back to your uncle’s house, he thought to himself.
      Kyu saw the turnoff to the road back to his uncle’s, and risked the turn, barely slowing down. He felt the car lean like crazy, suspecting it would lift off the road and flip. The enforcers followed suit, their width keeping them firmly planted on the road, even at one hundred and fifty miles an hour. Kyu shot down the mountain, racing like a madman. He flew through the tunnel,
but the enforcers didn’t so much as slow down. They were actually beginning to catch up with Kyu, especially going downhill. He screamed through the turns, barely avoiding scraping all the paint away on the rusty guardrails. The enforcers did not try to avoid the guardrails, but rather nylon panels extended from inside their wheel wells and acted as deflectors. This proved fatal for
the second. The first flew into a curve, still pursuing Kyu, both doing almost one hundred seventy. The first enforcer leaned into the guardrail, distressing it severely. The second burst through the deteriorating steel, and flew to a fiery destruction almost two hundred feet below.
      The first would not be deterred, however; he was still gaining on Kyu with ever increasing speed. Kyu realized where he was going, and so did the enforcer behind him. There was a one-lane bridge crossing the same creek that ran by his uncle’s place. Kyu put the engine to a real test, seriously straining the limits of the Barchetta and its young driver. The enforcer poured on the speed as well, hoping to catch the criminal car before it got away.
      There was the bridge, ahead of Kyu. He put on one final psychotic burst of speed, praying that the enforcer would back off before he reached the bridge.
      Kyu flew between the steel girders, reaching safety. He slowed down rapidly, spinning the car one hundred eighty degrees and watched what happened next.
      The alloy enforcer braked like a maniac, spun sideways and struck the bridge. It exploded, went into the air for almost five seconds, and crashed by the roadside, burning.
      Kyu sped away, calmed, laughing at his experience nervously. What a tale, he thought.
     Too bad I can only ever tell my uncle...