I wake up.

It's another sunny day on the tracks - actually, every day around here is sunny. That's part of the reason I moved here. Don't like clouds, don't like rain, don't like anything besides sun and skies.

I stretch and yawn and roll down and I think of going back to sleep, but I don't. There's too much to do. And if I really feel tired later in the day I can just take a nap.

I bounce out of bed and pull on some coveralls. I’m going to get dirty later on, so it makes sense to suit up. Breakfast is just whatever I happened to heat up last night. I'm not picky about food - to me it's just an inconvenience that takes time away from more important things.

Like what I'm about to do. I run over to my workstation and I flick on all the buttons at once. The manuals always say to not do that. They want you to do the boring thing and switch them all on one by one, conserve energy, don't strain the system, yadda yadda yadda, but I never do that. I like listening to the thrum of the computers and hearing them all hum to life at once.

The familiar lines of text start scrolling onscreen and I sit back and relax, finishing the last remains of my breakfast. They're just diagnostics - what's booting up where, how, and why, but I love watching them anyway. Calms me down. I finish the remains of my breakfast and lean forwards in anticipation.

There's the flash and blink and pop of the startup and then - there they are. I give them all a wink and wave, even though I know they can't see me. I mean, I know they can pick up my motion on the sensors and cameras, but they can't really SEE me. I mean, they're there and I am here. I won't ever be anything but on the other side of the screen, which makes me kind of sad, but that's the way things are.

I spin my chair around and point to them one by one. Emerson, Cyna, Red, and Rolf. All different colors, all different words. Out there I sometimes feel alone but I'm never really alone - not with them around me.

They don't talk but all the text on the screen is music to my ears. Emerson is his usual cheerful self. Cyna asks me how many ways I can mess up whatever I'm going to do today. Red doesn't say anything except a "Good Morning" when everyone else is done. And Rolf...you can never really tell with Rolf. I sit and type and type some more. This is the favorite part of my morning - hanging out with the gang.

We talk about what I'm going to do - which is the same as what I do every day. Go out on the tracks of course.

I don't think the sky has ever been so beautiful as today. I mean, I know I say that every other day. It helps to be positive, y'know?

Sometimes I get a little sad that I don't have anyone to share it with, but then I remember that they're there watching me all the time. I don't have the uplinks necessary to patch them through to the pods when I'm racing, but then again when I'm racing I want to concentrate on the track and what I'm doing. I'll tell them all about it when I get back home.

Today looks like a good day for burning up the tarmac. I don't think I'll try to break any records, just take myself for a spin to two around the track. Keep the wheels oiled up and all that.

I give all the equipment a quick once-over and plug in everything that needs to be plugged in. Then I start the engines. The hum of ignition begins - different than when I start up my systems at home, but also sort of the same. It just makes me happy in a different way. I wait a while for everything to get warmed up, and then I stomp on the accelerator and go.

You know what I like best about racing? It's everything going by so damn fast. It's the feel of the engine beneath your seat thrumming with power. The wind passing you by so fast that it leaves streaks against your windscreen. I basically like everything about it, the speed, the rush, the intensity - everything! It's the best.

It's a fairly routine day for me. I don't try any fancy stuff, just hit the straightaways cool and relaxed and take a few turns as fast as I think I can. It's smooth sailing all the time, but then again I'm not pushing any envelopes. Just want to get a feel for all the new additions I installed yesterday...and they're working well, really well in fact. I finish off with a double spin around the last turn just for the hell of it and then it's back home to the gang.

They're all waiting for me to tell them the good news when I get back. Emerson is excited at usual. Cyna doesn't think I handled the second curve around the third right well, but she never thinks I did anything well - that's part of her charm. Red doesn't say anything, but I know that they just means she's happy for me. Rolf points out that I had better adjust my left fender if I want to get more acceleration on the straightaways, and he's right. (as usual.)

We're getting there. We're getting there! Every day there is progress, and that's fantastic. I find myself whistling as I power down the systems, unplug the wires and put everything away. There's data to be analyzed, and adjustments to be made, but today has been a good day - a really good day.

I go to bed dreaming of what I can do tomorrow. If everything works so well today then tomorrow...well, tomorrow is going to be something else.

Can I break a thousand miles per hour today? I don't know, but I'm going to try. That's half the fun, isn't it?

If we're going to do this, we're going to have to do this properly. I putter around the pod, tweaking settings and adjusting valves. I have to make sure everything is ship-shape and ready to go before I take off the training gloves. Safety first. Doesn't matter what kind of records I break if I end up becoming a red stain somewhere.

They've divided about this course of action, as usual. Emerson is all for it, but then again, he's all for whatever I do. I kind of like having my one-man cheerleading squad, but I also like having Red to bring me back down to Earth, and Cyna for her wit (so, you're gonna make a fool of yourself and bail at 500 miles an hour again today?) and Rolf for his advice - he says to not bother with extra acceleration but go for more control instead...I'll need it on the tougher turns. Everything they say makes sense, even the stuff that doesn't. God I love them all.

Rocket boosters, check. Windscreen layers, check. I think I am getting a little nervous here. I've put every protective measure I know of into place, but you can't be sure about everything, you know? I make a final review, take a deep breath, heave a sigh, and strap myself in. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. The dashboard lights up in front of me and I'm ready to go.

I turn the ignition key and the engine roars to life. I slam on the accelerators and I'm off.

It didn't really turn out how I wanted it to. I didn't bail at 500 miles per hour (eat that Cyna!) but I didn't crack 900 either. The undercarriage couldn't take the increased strain and so I decided to just abandon the whole idea after the third turning. Safety first.

I was kind of down about it for a while but they all did their best to cheer me up. Even Cyna. Well, what she said was that "you didn't die like I thought you would." Thanks. But I know that's just how she shows that she cares. Red actually said more than a few sentences, and that probably made me feel better that I've been in a long time.

I powered down the pod, collated the data and all that but I didn't really feel like looking at it anymore for a while. I kept on thinking of the thousand miles and how I didn't reach it today. Would I ever reach it? Of course I would. It was just a matter of time. But today wasn't it.

I spent the whole day staring at the clouds instead. I get my best ideas that way. The folk back where I used to live always told me that they looked like animals, or trees, or all that boring stuff, but to me, they always look like more racer pods. I see flanges and boosters and spinning wheels, trails of smoke and engine exhaust, and it just lights me up inside. Usually after about an hour outside I can't wait to get back in and start tinkering with the pod again.

But today they look different. They look a little like birds. Not that I've seen one, of course...this area is about as deserted as they come. But Rolf tells me about them all the time, and I looked them up in his databanks and yeah, I think the clouds today do look those little critters. They have...feathers. That's what they call'em, right? And wings. They use them for flying.

Interesting creatures. They don't even get past like, fifty mph or so? but what they lack of horizontal movement they make up for vertically. I mean, they can fly? That's pretty cool, I must say. I can't fly. Even my pod can't.

I don't think I'm that interested in that though. I mean, I want to go fast, not up. I could probably manage up if I wanted to. I'd have to sacrifice a little thrust for a little lift, and if I deployed the ailerons at an angle I'm sure that my boosters would be able to get me the angle that I needed. But that's not what I want to do, and so I won't.

So many clouds. It's another beautiful day at the tracks.

Another day, another retrofitting. This time I know what the problem was. I'm certain of it, in fact. It's the wheel casing. It's just not strong enough to handle the extra power I'm pumping out, which is why it started shaking, and that was why the phase connectors couldn't handle the pressure, and why the undercarriage couldn't take the strain and that led to...well, basically I have to fix the wheel casing.

With what, though? I need something strong, but flexible enough to bend and not break when I really put the pedal to the metal. I think about various ways around it...I could temper the whole chassis with a phase distortion. That would get it to where I wanted but then it wouldn't interface well with the rest of the machinery. I could maybe just reroute the central power circuit back onto itself while bypassing the reflex valve, which...would probably be too dangerous. Even for me.

Wait, wait...wait. I have it. I think I actually have it! It's not the wheel casing at all. It's the regulator! I just need to release the limit on the regulator for a few seconds - just a few, while I'm hitting the straightaway after the third turn and before the fourth. That's when I get the maximum thrust and if I time it juuuuuuuust right I think I'll be able to get the last few ounces of power I need. In fact I'm sure of it! Why didn't I think of this before? I guess you can't rush genius.

Red tells me that I'm going overboard with this idea, which is strange for her. Rolf actually agrees with her once. Emerson thinks whatever I'm doing is right (as usual) and Cyna...Cyna is silent for once. I keep on thinking she's swapped places with Red but no, Cyna's not saying anything and Red is. I smile but I go right back to what I'm doing. I have this one in the bag and I know it.

They chatter on as I yank out cable after cable and plug them back in. God I love my family. I have no idea what I'd do without them. Go insane and smash the pod and myself into something most probably. I work through the night, cutting sheet metal into the shapes I need, debugging the databanks, and tweaking the transistor arrays. Tomorrow is the day, but we won't get there without a LOT more preparation.

I go to sleep happy and satisfied. We're almost there, no matter what they say. Almost there.

Alright, time to have another go at that thousand mile mark! I bounce out of bed and almost forget to eat breakfast, but Rolf reminds me that I can't race on an empty stomach. Good old Rolf. I can always rely on him to take care of me. The rest chime in with their remarks soon after...Emerson is all gogogo! Cyna is cautiously optimistic (a new mode for her!) and Red doesn't say anything, which is normal for her again. I'm kind of relieved at her silence actually.

I'm so excited I can't even sit still. Or assemble anything properly. But I somehow manage to calm myself enough to go over the systems slowly and methodically, testing each one by one.

But it doesn't work. I don't even get to 750 this time. The wheel casings are doing just fine and I'm sure I have enough thrust to the accelerator but I don't even get to the point where I need to disengage the limiters. I did everything the same as yesterday...but I'm at least a hundred miles slower. Why? I don't understand.

I'm not even down this time, just curious. What isn't working? What CAN'T be working? I've checked the figures with all of them and input them into multiple simulations. They all agree I'm on the right track with this one (no pun intended) but it doesn't seem to be panning out like it should.

I take the pod on two more rounds around the track just for the heck of it. Nope, still too slow. Far, FAR too slow.

You know what? I think it's me. I maybe it's my fragile human self that is just too chicken. I don't dare to go as fast as I need to. The plan is to get to 900 and then let loose, really let her rip...but I can't even do that. I need to be wilder. More reckless. Throw caution to the wind and just GO.

I've wished more than once that I could be like them. Sitting there, connected to everything, with all that knowledge and processing power at your disposal. No need to get up, to sleep, to eat, to do all those messy things biological organisms have to do. Just compute faster than I ever could.

But then if I was like them I couldn't race. And I couldn't go out and see the clouds and get ideas about how to race better. I don't know which would hurt more. I guess I'm happy being where I am, even if I don't crack a thousand miles.

It's another bright and sunny today, but somehow I don't feel like racing. Or tinkering with the pod. Or doing much of anything. But I never don't feel like racing. What's wrong with me?

I do what I do when I'm confused about anything - I go ask them. Emerson tells me it's just a funk and it will pass. I sure hope so. Cyna says not to think too much or I'll hurt my head. Thanks. Red is silent as usual and Rolf doesn't say anything either.

Nothing's helping. I just feel so...so...depressed. And I never feel depressed, at least not since I moved out here.

I'm going to go look at the clouds.

It's another sunny day, good for cloud watching. Like I said, every day is sunny out here.

I'm waiting for inspiration to come but nothing turns up. Just birds as usual. More birds - big ones, small ones, thin ones, fat ones. All kinds.

I sigh and I feel more than a little frustrated. Birds are ok. Birds are fine. But what I need is more power, more speed, more intensity, not these feathery critters. Like I said before, I want to go fast, not up.

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I rub my eyes and roll around on the sand, then roll around some more and rub my eyes again. Nope, not working. Still clouds that look like birds. Not a racer pod or thruster in sight.

I spend an hour or so more outside and then I decide to call it a day and go back.

It's raining. No racing for me today. I guess I could go and check on everything but then, I've already checked everything a thousand times (ha, ha) already. There's nothing left to adjust or tweak that I haven't already adjusted or tweaked enough.

They're worried about me, I can tell. Rolf is silent (now HE'S giving me the silent treatment? it'll be Emerson next...) Red only says something once every hour or so. Cyna berates me as usual but her voice has lost some of its sting. Emerson tells me that I'm doing good, I'm doing great - I'll hit a thousand miles tomorrow! - but I think both of us know that that's just empty talk.

The rain matches my mood. It pours down in thick sheets of water and I stare at it glumly. I feel like the shelter is a giant racer pod...one that doesn't even do one mph, let alone a thousand.

What am I doing wrong? What I do need to change? I think and think and think but nothing comes to mind. All that happens is that I feel worse than ever.

I decide to go to sleep. No use sitting here staring at water come down from the skies. It's about as helpful as those damn birds.

Nothing's working. Nothing's working! I'm never going to get past a thousand, and I'm never going to get out of this bad mood, and I'm never going to...arrgggh, screw it.

I fling my spanner down in frustration. They all don't say a word. They're probably as upset and confused as I am. I've never been like this. Never.

I mean, I've had setbacks before. There was the time the carburetor went kaput. Boy, that took me more than a week to fix. And the other time when the pulse arrays went crazy...that was nuts. They all had to pitch in and we worked from morning to night to debug all the goddamn things. But when we were done we were back in racing in a jiffy.

So yeah, I'm used to things going wrong. All part of the plan. But it's never been like this before...I mean, it's like I'm stuck and I don't even know why. This is even worse than the depression from before.

I try to sleep - could be just that I'm tired maybe? I toss and I turn for a few hours but sleep isn't happening either. I get up, bleary-eyes and irritable, and stomp outside.

Of all of them Red tries this time. She tells me that I should just take it easy, that things will look better tomorrow. What does she know? She just sits there with the rest all day, she doesn't need to get up or fix things or...now I'm getting angry at them? Ok I know I've really lost it this time.

I shoot them all a pained look but all I get is the glow of the screens in return. No one says anything. I think they don't know what to say either. I don't blame them...I don't know what to DO either.

Maybe I'll go outside.

---

No clouds today either. Clear skies - great for racing, but that's out of the question. Sigh. Just my luck, huh?

I sit myself down and look at the sky but I find myself thinking about home. Not that home. I mean, home is here. That's why I picked this spot - far away from anyone and anything, where I could be with them and do whatever I wanted. That's home. But there was another home before this one, not that I call it home anyway, but it USED to be home, and...I'm confused myself.

They wanted me to get married, to settle down. Have kids, I think. I can't quite remember anymore. But I didn't care for any of those things. All I wanted to do was race.

It's not really clear but I think I'm remembering a few other things as well. They wanted me to do something...some things? Fix things, I think. We didn't have enough food, and they wanted me to do something to some machine or another...I can't recall and I don't really care. All I wanted to do was race, and go faster, and then one day when things got bad enough I just ran off and here I am.

I never think about home...I mean, that place I used to come from. I'm usually just too busy to think about anything besides racing. And my family.

It's all so confusing and I don't really like it. All I really want to do is crack that goddamn thousand mile mark.

---

Okay, today is the day. I can feel it. It's going to happen. I'm going to get to a thousand and it's going to be great. I feel strangely exhilarated and I think that's good...it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Which is good, I think.

I make sure I do everything properly. Safety first. I check the wheel casings and the regulator and the pulse array and well, everything. Then I run some simulations and I psyche myself up and I check everything a second time again. It all looks good. This is it. This is it.

They don't seem as excited as I am, which is strange. Then again they've been behaving strangely lately. Just two nights ago I could have sworn that I heard them talking to each other while I was asleep. Cyna isn't as sarcastic as usual, and even Emerson doesn't talk, and Red...what's wrong with everyone? I have no idea.

But when I look at the pod all of that vanishes. I'm gonna break that thousand miles today, I just know it.

I strap myself in and I am so excited that I almost don't remember to give everything a final once-over. Or adjust the limiters on the regulator. Or make sure the windshield layer is intact. I don't know why I'm so sure that I am going to make it today, but I am.

The first few rounds go smoothly enough. I start at around 500 no problem, and with each round it just keeps getting better. 600, then 700, then 750...the casings are holding, the undercarriage is fine and the engine is working on all cylinders. I'm happy. I'm excited...ecstatic even. If this keeps up I'll get to 1000 with no problems at all.

A few more rounds and we get to the red zone...900 and climbing. I stall out at around 950 but that's what I've been waiting for. I punch the button and the limiters come off and I hit a curve and then I turn and I come out onto a straightaway. 920, 921, 943, 955...it's all coming together and I can't wait to tell them the news back home and -

- then all hell breaks loose. I knew the wheel casings couldn't take the strain. The limiters come off alright, but back blast from the exhaust is just too strong and it breaks the

connection to the central pulse array. The feedback fries almost everything that's in the area - which is basically the entire onboard system.

Of course I don't know any of this at the time. All I know is that one moment everything is going fine and the next I go spinning out of control and I'm hanging onto the wheel

for dear life as sparks fly everywhere. The engine goes haywire and the internal stresses start to tear apart the entire pod and I can't do anything because I'm too busy trying to stay alive. I careen helplessly into a nearby tree with a huge bang and before I know it flame starts licking at the edge of the windscreens. I struggle to get out but I'm afraid it's going to be too late -

- and at the last moment the safety systems kick in. Flame retardant spews from a nozzle I didn't even know I installed and the fire's gone. But the pod is a wreck. I struggle to get myself out of it and I finally manage to extricate myself from the mass of twisted metal it has become.

I almost can't bear to look at it again but I force myself to and...yeah. It's worse than I thought. The damage is so severe there is no way to even begin to fix it. I just stand there for a while, looking at it in stunned silence. Then I go back home.

But I don't want to go back home. I ended up going where I usually go to look at the clouds...except that there are no clouds today. I plonk myself down and feel sorry for myself.

What am I going to do? I mean, the pods ruined. Even Cyna will be sad for me. Probably. If she doesn't chew me out first. I can't even think of what the others will say.

So why don't I want to go home? Either home, I mean. I don't know. All I know is that I feel worse than I've ever felt in my entire life. No pod, no thousand miles, no nothing.

What was I thinking...it was dumb of me. Stupid. I should have found a safer way to go about doing things. Slow and steady...who am I kidding? Slow and steady would have taken forever. I went for it and I crashed and burned. Simple as that.

After a few hours I eventually do make myself go back. If it rains, I'm going to be stuck out here with no shelter and no pod and no nothing. At least back home they're there for me.

---

They're all glad to see me. They don't show it - they can't show it, more like - but it's obvious. I'm glad to see them too. No one says anything at first. Which is good...I think if I heard anything from them I'd just burst out crying. They let me get some food and sit down a bit and generally feel normal again.

I sit down and mope and they all do their best to help me get through it. I'm so down that I can't remember exactly what everyone said, but they all did their best, I'm sure of it.

What should I do? I have no idea. I sit around a bit and eventually I go to bed. There's nothing else TO do. Sleep comes a lot faster and more easily than I think it would. It's probably because I'm so tired.

---

What's a girl to do when her only hope and reason for existence goes up in flames? Why, build another one, of course.

I surprise myself (and them, of course) by how fast I bounce back. I wake up the next morning with a burning desire to get back on the tracks, and I start work on a new pod minutes after breakfast. I have all the parts, and if I go back to the wreckage of the crash I can find enough materials to make things easier. So that's what I do. I go back and grit my teeth and scrounge up whatever spare parts I can and go to it.

They are all largely silent on the matter. Red does tell me not to work too hard, and Rolf offers a hint here and there, but they all don't say much of anything else. Even Emerson doesn't say anything (he finally got his turn!) I think they want to let me sort through it on my own, and I appreciate it.

I spend the better part of three weeks working like a demon. I weld metal and splice arrays with a speed that amazes even me. Slowly a new pod begins to take shape - first the exoskeleton, a thin frame of phase distorted metal. They I slap on some plates, connect the computers, add wheels...it's one thing after another. I know how to do it, I just gotta go do it better than I have ever done before. I don't even ask them for any help. it's something I have to do on my own.

I even whistle while I work. It's hard work but it's what I want to do. I want to race - I'm surer of that than anything - and I can't do it without a pod. So I gotta make another. It's that simple. Some part of me is I'm really not sure if I ought be doing this much work when the crash is still so recent in my memory, but I think that if I don't keep myself busy I'll probably fall into another funk again. Working is definitely the lesser of two evils.

I had a dream today. I never have dreams. Not since moving out here.

I was running to - or was it running from? - somewhere, and I was going faster and faster and it was great. It was like being in the pod, except that I was outside, and Emerson was cheering me on and Cyna was telling me I was doing good and Red was shouting (shouting? Red?) and Rolf was saying something that I couldn't quite hear and I was going faster than I ever had gone before and -

Suddenly I was a bird.

But not one of those normal, boring ones. I had wings of steel and plumes of fire and metal feathers and I was going fast, incredibly fast. So much faster than when I was on the ground. I was doing easily 700, then 800, then 900 and the limiters were off and I was going higher and higher and faster and faster and just about to -

and then I woke up. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't. Still, it was the best dream ever.

Weeks pass faster than I realize. It seems like one day I am still fine-tuning some schematics and attaching the blasted wheel casings (always have to watch out for those!) and the next day I'm done. It's done!

I go over and stare at it. Everything is ready to go. It's as good as I can make it, probably even better than before. I learned from the crash and I've managed to integrate everything together into a faster (hopefully!) and leaner model.

I look at the pod. Then I look outside, past the garage door, into the wide open skies and green fields outside. Then I look at the pod again.

Maybe...maybe it's just not worth it. I can't believe I'm thinking this but I am. Maybe I should just call it quits. Hang in the towel and never get into a pod again. I mean, it's a miracle that I haven't even crashed before that time. That I'm still alive. And I have to think about all of them too. If I die...then all of them will be sad, real sad.

I feel something that I've never felt before. What is it...fear? No. I never feel afraid, not even when I ran, not even when I crashed. Well, maybe then, but that was more the fear that I wouldn't get to a thousand. It's different. I don't know what it is but for some reason it doesn't bug me. I still don't know what I'm feeling though.

I go outside.

The clouds are...the clouds look weird today. They don't look like anything. Just clouds. No birds or pods or thrusters or wings. Just clouds.

I'm not sure what to do or think or feel, so I just continue looking up at the sky. The wind picks up and sighs against my face and I wonder why I've never felt it before. I guess I was going too fast? And when the windshields are up you can't actually feel the wind, you can only see it going by. Who knew that it would feel like this? Like someone touching you so quickly that it was gone before it began. A gentle ripple against your skin that's so fast you can't see it before you blink.

I suddenly wonder what they would all say if they saw the sky. Or the clouds. Would they see birds or racer pods? What would they say? Emerson would be all for it, he would say...actually, I have no idea what he would say. Or any of them.

I could never manage to drag them all out here anyway. Too many wires. And I could never bring the outdoors back inside.

I just sit back and relax and daydream...yeah, I guess that's what I'm doing. I'm daydreaming, just without getting any ideas this time. I reach out a lazy hand and I see the sunlight come in through my splayed fingers.

How long from here to the sun? To the clouds? I'm not sure...I guess I could run some simulations but I don't have the data to do that. So I'll just guess. A few hundred...no, too small. A thousand miles? Maybe more. A thousand thousand miles.

And long would it take? A thousand thousand miles at a thousand miles an hour...so a thousand hours. That's a long time. I'd run out of food by then, and water. And I'd have to leave them all behind too. Not to mention I'd need a lot of lift to even get off the ground and go that far.

What am I thinking? I'm never going to be able to do that. I've thought about this before, haven't I? Adjust the ailerons and the boosters to point upwards? But then I wouldn’t have enough thrust to get off the ground. Maybe if I turn it sideways? Naah, that's a dumb idea. How about if I feed the flow into the regulator instead, and then from there I remove the limiters, and then the pulse array should...wait.

That's it...that's it! Ideas start flowing into my head all of a sudden. Repurpose the boosters. Strip away the wheel casings for less weight. I never needed the damn things anyway. Increase the boost factor of the exhaust. It might work. It just might work.

Why not both? Why not go fast AND go up? Why stay on the ground when I can fly? I can barely restrain myself. I bound off the hill and head for home.

I can hardly wait to get back and tell them the good news. Emerson will be so happy for me. I know Cyna will have a snarky comment to make but I'm sure even she can see the potential in what I'm suggesting...Red may say something, or she may not. And I can never tell with Rolf.

I wonder whether I'll see any birds up there.