TG Race Week 3 Day 5
“Up, Up, and Away!”
Tracey shifts slightly in the driver’s seat getting comfortable. She opens the door and looks up. There are many vents in the ceiling above. “Which one should I choose?” She closes the door and thinks. She starts to go “Eenny Meany” but her eyes fall on the GPS. She eyes it suspiciously, but turns it on.
Searching. Searching. Locating Position. Locating Position. Locat. Receiving Data. Recieving Data. Receivin. The screen lights up with what she expects to see, an image of the Mediterranean Sea. A little dot flashes in the middle of the water by the boot of Italy. She zooms in and again and again and again until she can see they are where they are supposed to be on Sicily in the volcano. She zooms in some more until the mountain fills the screen. She sees small dark spots.
On a whim, she goes to a side menu and hits Possible Exits. Each little dot lights up with some she hadn’t seen before. Each dot draws a line to the center. “WHAT? It knows about the holes that are here, but it can’t find a giant hole in Iceland?”
Software upgrade complete.
“What? Why you little conniving little box, I have half a mind to …”
Her speaker comes to life, “Tracey, what’s going on?”
She looks back at the camera on the wall behind her and then turns to glare at the machine and replies, “Nothing. I’m just trying to figure out which exit we should take.”
Her toes under the pilot’s yoke start bouncing her legs again. It takes her a moment to realize what is happening, but when her knee hits the wheel she looks down and scolds them, “Stop that.” They do for a while.
She tries to focus on exiting, but her mind is elsewhere, “Doc? Could you come out here for a minute?”
She hears the click of the door and she turns and stands facing him. “What is it, Tracey?”
“I don’t get it. The Vince’s mine that hit me. What did it do? I’m myself. But in clothes I wouldn’t wear with features normal for one of his bombs. Would Vince make a bomb just for me?”
“I don’t know, Tracey, I don’t know,” he shakes his head sadly.
She gets excited and her toes take the cue to start. Soon her whole body is jiggling and swaying. Her shirt flies upward as pushed by those that it contains. She throws her arms around Doc and gives him a friendly hug. “Thanks Doc!”
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Up the slope into the sea and down the coast, a wooly trunk lifts a piece of black scrap. It flips it over to reveal the letters, “BSCBBST”.
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They part. “So which way should we go?”