Hover Car Racer Read Online Free

most-visited tourist attraction in the world behind the Pyramids, and a spectacular backdrop to the annual hover car race held in Sydney - the Sydney Classic - one of the four Gland Slam races.
    The cruise liner pulled into the dock at Hobart.
    Jason and the Bug grabbed their bags and made for the gangway bridge - where they were cut off by two surly youths.
    ‘Well, if it isn’t little Jason Chaser,’ Barnaby Becker sneered, blocking their way. Becker was 18 and a full head
and shoulders taller than Jason. He was also now the Indo-Pacific Regional Champion, a title that garnered some respect in racing circles.
    Barnaby nodded to his navigator: Guido Moralez, also 18, with shifty eyes and a slick sleazy manner.
    ‘I dunno, Guido,’ Barnaby said. ‘Tell me how a little runt who comes stone motherless last in the regionals gets
to come to Race School.’
    ‘Couldn’t tell ya, Barn,’ Guido said smoothly, eyeing Jason and the Bug sideways. ‘But I hope they’re up for it.
You never know what sort of accidents can happen in a place like this.’
    This exchange pretty much summed up their trip. After their unexpected invitation to come to Race School, Jason and the Bug hadn’t seen Scott Syracuse. He was taking a private hover plane to Tasmania, and had said he would meet the boys there. Unfortunately, this meant Jason and the Bug - already outsiders on account of their ages - had had to endure the taunts of Becker and Guido all the way to Tasmania.
    Barnaby, knowing that Jason and the Bug lived with adoptive parents back at Hall’s Creek, took particular joy in including the word ‘motherless’ in most of his snide remarks.
    The Bug whispered something in Jason’s ear.
    ‘What! What did you say?’ Barnaby demanded. ‘What’s with all this whispering, you little moron? Why don’t you talk like a man?’
    The Bug just stared up at him blankly.
    ‘I asked you a question, punk - ‘ Barnaby made to grab the Bug by his shirt, but Jason slapped the bigger boy’s hand away.
    Barnaby froze.
    Jason didn’t back down, returned his gaze evenly.
    ‘Ooh, I smell tension ,’ Guido Moralez rubbed his hands together.
    ‘Don’t you touch him,’ Jason said. ‘He talks. He just doesn’t talk to people like you.’
    Barnaby lifted his hand away, smiled. ‘So what did he say, then?’
    Jason said, ‘He said: we ain’t motherless.’

CHAPTER TWO

    The Race School was situated directly opposite the dock, on the other side of the wide Derwent River, inside a shimmering glass-and-steel building that looked like a giant sail.
    Jason and the other new racers were led into the School’s cavernous entry foyer. Famous hover cars hung from the ceiling: Wilmington’s original prototype, the H-1, took pride of place in the centre, where it was flanked by Ferragamo’s Masters-winning Boeing HyperDrive and an arched gate from the London Underground Run.
    ‘This way,’ their guide said, leading them into a high-tech theatre that looked like Mission Control at NASA. An enormous display screen up front faced fifteen rows of amphitheatre-like seating. Each seat was fitted with a computer screen. A gallery at the very back of the theatre was provided for the media and at the moment it was full to bursting.
    ‘Welcome to the Race Briefing Room,’ the guide said. ‘My name is Stanislaus Calder and I am the Race Director here at the School. Trust me, all of you drivers will come to know this room very well. Please take a seat. Professor LeClerq and the teaching staff will be joining us shortly.’
    Jason looked around the room, checking out the other racers. There were about twenty-five drivers in total, most of them older boys of seventeen or eighteen. Nearly all of them sat with two companions: their navigators and Mech Chiefs. Jason and the Bug didn’t have a Mech Chief, having always done their own pit work. Syracuse had said they would be matched up with someone upon the start of classes.
    Jason saw Barnaby Becker and Guido