Chapter 3
“Hey, what was your name again?” Johnny asked the DRIFTERS agent. They were out of the party, the celebratory music faded to the background of the night as crickets sung and moths swarmed street lights in the parking area.
The agent offered a slightly offended look, “We’ve met before.” he said, leading the way to his car.
Johnny grimaced and shrugged, “Yeah, I know it's just that I get introduced to like twenty people everyday. Names don’t stay in my head anymore, not long anyway.”
The agent snorted, squeezing through the tight gaps between the parked fanciful race cars, luxury jeeps and the latest releases from famous automobile brands. “I suppose that’s fair, race star like you.”
Johnny recognized most if not every car parked, especially the race cars as at some point or another in his life he’d driven it or their predecessors which were less fancy and more focused on efficiently moving from zero to hundred as fast as possible.
The agent came to a stop beside a sleek black convertible, he waved at it and a small light came on from within, he stared at it for a second and the doors unlocked on all sides. He looked back at Johnny and grinned.
“The names Nadim, take the drivers, you’ll need to drive to understand,” Agent Nadim said, already on passengers side of his car.
“Understand what exactly?” Johnny asked, a bit exasperated as he sat behind the wheel. It was a smooth, clean vehicle that still had its new-car smell. The dashboard had all the necessaries but measured two other values Johnny had never seen in any car before.
There was a tiny bump right above it that looked like a camera and had lenses facing both sides. Johnny scowled at it but before he could complain Agent Nadim answered, “Consider this a compatibility test, we know you’re the one we want, Johnny but is the car good enough? We need to know.”
Johnny raised a curious brow at that, he took a closer look at the car, it didn’t have a backseat even though there was sufficient space for one. The wind-shields and windows weren’t made from plexi-glass either and the gear shift was a row of buttons that included more gears than he was aware of and an obvious nitrous charge button.
Eying Agent Nadim suspiciously, Johnny asked, “This isn’t a typical racing car. It’s chassis alone, not the best. I’ve told you DRIFTERS before but adding nitrous to a vehicle doesn’t make it a racing car.”
Nadim rolled his eyes behind his glasses, he took them off and nodded, “We took your critique to heart Johnny, now trust us, the engineering company responsible for saving your life today. Drive.”
Reminded of the Lonsdaleite armour that saved his life just a few hours ago, Johnny gripped the wheel and hit the ignition with a lazy push of a button. The engine purred to life, its sound smooth but with a hidden edge, like a panther preparing to pounce. Nadim buckled in and eagerly gestured for Johnny to take the road.
“I’ll just drive around the venue, my trailer is still here and I haven’t clear it out yet. I’ll stop us there.” Johnny said as he pulled out of the mini parking lot.
Nadim seemed satisfied as long as Johnny drove and so he did. Compatibility. Despite Johnny’s reservations he was ever curious what DRIFTERS had come up with. The Lonsdaelite armour had started out as nothing more than soldered strips of the rare newtonian metal around vulnerable areas. He’d scarcely imagined it became or how useful it would be to him.
If they are testing for compatibility then…what’s being measured? Johnny thought as he smoothed through the stone path. His handling? Attention to his surroundings, the car’s resources? They’d specifically tested his drift once as well as his fuel consumption. It could be anything.
A wave of tiredness washed the rising tide of anxious thoughts away, snapping Johnny back. He decided it didn’t matter what the test was measuring, Nadim said it already, DRIFTERS wanted him, he wasn’t auditioning for it and he wasn’t so yet eager to have whatever it was so soon after retiring from Banzai Bangers.
Johnny let out a cool sigh as his mind settled and continued driving slowly, though the car’s responsive handling and powerful acceleration teasing Johnny to push it harder. As they cruised down the empty grounds, Johnny glanced over at Nadim, the Convar had an eager smile and was tapping the window sill, the winds from his wound down window blew through his furry face.
He still felt tired from the life threatening final race and the packed party so he broke the serene silence after one lap around the venue, “Are you going to talk or…?”
Agent Nadim’s expression remained calm, but there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “DRIFTERS has developed something revolutionary,” he began. “A new means of space travel. One that defies the Convar’s monopoly, that sets the industry free and fair to all! Hahah!”
Johnny felt a tad uncomfortable at Nadim’s boisterous mood, especially when he was talking about competing against the current United Earth Regime, a government most believe is controlled entirely by the Convar species rather than the fair councillatory split it purported itself to be.
He’s a Convar himself, he’ll at least get a second chance. Johnny thought, as a human he wouldn’t be afforded the privilege of a proper explanation if he came under suspicion of treason like that.
“I had a feeling this was a bad idea, you were just too excited about it.” Johnny said, slowing down as his heart beat faster. He gripped the steering, “But I don’t see how you’ll need me for anything space travel, I am a racer…well, retired racer but that’s nowhere close to astronaut.”
Nadim laughed, “Oh no, no, don’t worry about that Johnny, like I said, we’ve been hard at work for a long time now. This goes beyond your time,” he grew serious as he explained, “The technology we’re working on is designed to bridge all known worlds. We’re talking instantaneous travel between dimensions. But,” his tone grew serious, “it’s not without risks. Dangerous and unpredictable effects have been...observed.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Johnny’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Sounds like you’re messing with something you don’t fully understand.”
“Maybe,” the agent admitted. “But progress always comes with risk. And that’s where you come in.”
Johnny shot him a skeptical glance. “Again, I’m a racer, not a scientist or an astronaut. What’s my role in all this?”
“It’s not about racing,” the agent said, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “It’s about your past in the military. The missions you’ve been on. Certain Convar factions have made enemies over the years, and you’re uniquely positioned to help us take them on. Your experience and skill behind the wheel make you a perfect candidate for what we’re trying to accomplish.”
Johnny frowned. “I’m not interested in picking a fight with Convars. That’s ancient history for me.”
It was. Over twenty years ago, when the earth had just begun recovering from the Convar invasion and human governments around the world were still deciding if and how to co-exist with Convars. It was a sentiment Convars then could strongly relate to as Johnny was sent as part of a team tasked with infiltrating a rogue Convar faction working on a biochemical weapon meant to run human’s extinct, leaving the planet for sole Convar occupation and dominance.
He still had nightmares of how badly the mission went, how much was lost and all he had to sacrifice. But he didn’t regret it, in part, the world was as it was because of his efforts and he enjoyed the new life he made after everything.
“It’s not just about fighting,” the agent countered. “It’s about testing the limits of what’s possible and bringing those limits to every deserving hand. We need a driver capable of handling a car designed to break every recorded speed limit and endure the side effects of uncharted territory. You can do that.”
Johnny’s skepticism deepened, but before he could voice it, the agent leaned forward and pressed a button on the dashboard. The car’s interior lights dimmed, and a low hum resonated through.
“What are you doing?” Johnny demanded, his voice sharp.
“Demonstrating,” the agent replied coolly.
The hum grew louder as the dashboard flickered, and the car began to shift around Johnny. Panels slid and reshaped, the steering wheel morphed, and the entire vehicle’s frame seemed to reconfigure itself. Johnny’s heart pounded as the sleek black car transformed into a futuristic machine with an otherworldly design.
“What the hell?!” Johnny yelled, struggling with the steering as it too was yanked away as the vehicle transformed.
“Relax,” Nadim said, pressing another button. “The car’s in autopilot.”
Johnny watched, stunned, as the wheel corrected itself and the car smoothed out, driving flawlessly on its own.
“This technology doesn’t just push boundaries,” Agent Nadim continued. “It shatters them. You could own any car, any design, any weapon system. Speaking of which...”
Nadim tapped a command on a hidden interface, and the car’s dashboard lit up with holographic displays of weapon systems. Missiles, turrets, energy shields—some familiar to Johnny from his military days, others entirely alien.
“What the-!” Johnny startled, staring at the array of lethal and non-lethal options. “You’ve turned this thing into a damn war machine.”
“There’s enough combat-associated risk in testing the new tech to warrant it,” the agent explained matter-of-factly. “You’d be driving through hostile environments, potentially facing those who don’t want this technology to succeed. The weapons are there to protect you.”
Johnny exhaled sharply, trying to process everything Nadim had told him. He glanced at the Convar as the car continued to move on its own, cruising at speeds Johnny wasn’t entirely comfortable with, especially after it had transformed at those very speeds.
Johnny glanced at the side mirror, his breath catching as he took in the transformed car. Its sleek, futuristic design was a far cry from the clean lines of a Lincoln, yet familiar details tugged at his memory. The tires—rugged and distinctive—were unmistakably from a '67 Chrysler Imperial.
“This is… the Ballistic,” Johnny muttered, his hands gripping the steering wheel, its worn texture all too familiar. He scrutinized the car’s contours through the mirror, finding every detail eerily accurate. It was his car—his Ballistic—from that year.
He couldn’t forget the last time he’d driven it. How could he? The Ballistic was the car he’d intended to use for his first intentional kill since leaving the military.
“I see you’re tearing it apart with your eyes already,” Agent Nadim said, a sly grin spreading across his face. “They said you’d do that.”
Johnny raised a brow but kept silent, his thoughts on the car and the offer hanging in the air. Finally, he asked, “How is this possible? This is... it’s almost an exact replica of the—”
“The Ballistic,” Nadim interrupted, his tone sharp yet smug. “The very car you set out to drive in your first Grave Pit duel. Only, you never got to finish that duel, did you?”
Johnny’s jaw tightened as Nadim's words hit their mark. Memories flooded back—the Grave Pit. A brutal experimental derby arena run by Banzai Bangers, designed for grudge matches between their most infamous racers. One-on-one death races in an arena that morphed into treacherous landscapes: volcanic, muddy, sulfuric—whatever environment the challenger chose to gain an upper hand.
Johnny had avoided it for years, gladly taking rank cuts rather than racing to the death. Until the day he made the challenge.
His glare turned ice-cold. “Do you know where he is? The Exploiter. Where did he disappear to? He accepted—”
“Relax, Johnny,” Nadim cut in, raising his hands in mock surrender. “We at DRIFTERS only know the story. Your brother Jamie’s first race—the one that left him crippled. But we don’t know where the Exploiter went after the match. Banzai Bangers, though? They might.”
Johnny’s fists clenched on the wheel as anger surged through him. He’d confronted every executive he could find at Banzai Bangers, but all had denied knowing the Exploiter’s whereabouts. The criminal racer had vanished after accepting Johnny’s Grave Pit challenge, robbing him of the justice he’d vowed to deliver for Jamie. For his family.
The car hummed quietly as Nadim let Johnny stew in his thoughts. Without a word or input, it navigated seamlessly through a stone-covered path, pulling up to the park where trailers sat in orderly rows. Johnny recognized his own among them.
“So,” Nadim said, breaking the silence as the car rolled to a stop, “do you have an answer for me, Johnny?”
Johnny hummed for a moment, his eyes torn away from Nadim as he thought. In the end he said, “This is a lot. What you’re saying…space travel, whatever you’re really having me test will be dropping me through different planets won’t it? Planets where I’ll need those weapons apparently.”
Agent Nadim nodded throughout, not denying any of it. Johnny groaned and took a deep breath, “Let me think about it, I need more time than a few laps around to decide. It sounds like I could die or worse, get arrested by the Regime.”
Nadim waved, “Oh don’t worry about that. Against current Regime tech, ours will keep you safe via distance alone.” He shrugged and ran a claw through his thicket of furry hair, “Take your time deciding. But remember, opportunities like this don’t come around often.”
The car rolled to a stop in front of Johnny’s trailer. Without another word, Johnny climbed out, his mind racing as fast as the car had. Nadim remained seated, watching him with that same inscrutable smile as Johnny walked away. The weight of the decision loomed heavy, but one thing was clear—his life would never be the same.