The Hell With Earthside: A Novella (STRYDER'S HORIZON Book 1) by Daniel J. Kirk Page A

horsepower,” Gregor tried to tell her. It was true. I’d removed mine years ago. Sold it for a brand new split crank.  Of course that was a piece of junk and only lasted 1500 miles before it cracked. I think I have bubble gum filling the seams but I hadn’t checked in a couple years. I hadn’t had a real race or challenge in so long that there was no reason. Maybe I had a death wish or something. Maybe I wanted to lose.
    That’ll be the day.
    Kimmie Stryder, Loser.
    Gregor’s shack had a water pump so I helped myself to a drink as Alice tried to convince him she would’ve won. He wasted translating his knowledge from Russian to English. Alice simply did not like what he was trying to tell her.
    “Kimmie is better racer.”
    “She’s not the best,” Alice said.
    “I say ‘better’.”
    “You mean the best! That no one can beat her. That I just wasted my time and money. She got lucky. If she goes out there again I’ll crush her! I have faster times on the drag than her. Everybody knows that.”
    “Alice,” I said. “Do you want to beat me?”
    “Oh you bitch, I’ll kick your ass!”
    “No.” I tried to sound cordial, “I mean do you really want to know how to beat me?”
    “Great now you’r e going to be all condescending. Get back in that rust bucket and suck my dust.”
    I almost did, but it would crush Alice when I beat her again. And despite her habit of tardiness and expansive musical appreciation, I actually liked the fire in her. She could be a pretty good racer if she stopped thinking everyone was trying to tell her they are better than her. She must’ve thought the whole planet was against her.
    “I know you can beat me, Alice. You’ve got everything you need to do it, but you need to listen to Gregor. He’s only trying to help you.”
    “Suck. My. Dust.”
    Gregor shook his head, “You such pretty girl, but your mouth. Too vulgar.”
    A transport was en route. We could smell it making a turn. All Colonial transports had that burned leaves smell, like they ran off more than just Calcioil.  We watched the bend wondering why it was headed this way. I’m sure each of us had a good reason to be concerned. When it appeared, that concern became a lump in my throat, a step back for Alice, and for Gregor, he tightened his grip on the rolled flag. We probably could’ve run, but those who did always ended up on the news looking like fools.
    The transport slowed down upon seeing us, taunting us with a snails pace of 100-mph.  It stopped a little too close to Old Shepard. It was a pet peeve of mine, nobody was allowed close to its ass but me. I didn’t even like it when Gregor walked too close , and he was my friend.
    The air brakes hissed and the electronic chime announced the transport was opening. A Colonial officer stepped out. He looked like he’d just learned that the sun was going to keep coming up everyday, that there was nothing to worry about. He had a face like an accelerator pedal, long and flat, and with his overly joyed expression I wanted to step on it.
    “Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentleman. Colonial Officer Brent Davis.” The officer wasn’t introducing himself. He was introducing the man who stepped out of the transport next. His whole shape resembled the brake pedal. If a small critter ran across the road no one would blame me for braking.
    “Kimberly Stryder, you look like hell.”
    I could almost feel the collective sighs from Alice and Gregor on my neck. Apparently I’d drawn the short straw and this Colonial transport was here for me.
    Officer Davis continued his inspection of me. I thought of my frizzy hair, and felt bad about the first impression I was making.
    “I apologize.”
    “No, worries. It’s just that your profile showed a woman with much more…” I didn’t think he was going to say it, but he did, and he relished in it, “…class.”
    “Hard times, you know that. I’m sure all your briefings detail what’s going on out here. It’s not