They honored every request.
Until she asked them to set all assistance to minimum and switch from automatic to manual.
Then Karora frowned.
“Are you sure about that? Most drivers prefer these assists. If you turn them off, the experience will be completely different. You will have to track far more at once and, in light of the earlier crash, in short, it is practically a different sport.”
“I’m sure. The assists overcorrect. It feels like driving a toy. Trust me, Karora, this will be fine. It will be closest to the Earth cars I know.”
For the first time Khar saw Lily stand her ground that firmly. It surprised him, even as he silently agreed with Karora’s misgivings.
He resisted the urge to rub the base of his horns, a classic Divani tell for stress. He had trained himself not to show weakness. Instead he waited by the line with the techs, VoidBrace linked into the track network, eyes locked on Lily.
When the lap began again, his hidden worry evaporated.
He watched, spellbound.
The jet-black car ran far wilder than his. Tires spinning, controlled drifts across the shifting terrain.
But the mastery was absolute.
Steep climbs, vicious weather, unstable ground, hairpin turns, none of it slowed her.
She was simply perfect.
Past the finish laser she braked with a long squeal, sprang out of the seat, and ran straight to him.
“That was divine. Thank you for talking me into this, Khar.”
“Yes. Not bad. You will have to go faster to catch me.”
His brevity did nothing to dim her mood. Arm in arm with Karora, she floated back up to the skydeck, chattering about race types, vehicles, and the other drivers.
Khar did not follow, though the adoration due a record-holder waited for him above.
Deep down he knew he did not deserve it.
Yes, his lap had been faster. But every ground-vehicle pilot knew true skill showed when systems failed and the driver had only themselves. Maybe the gawking masses did not know Lily had shut the assists off.
Khar did.
He had thought his torment was over.
It had only just begun.
Chrono-cycles blurred together. No night, no day. Only the human female’s face, always before him. Not even trying, yet always better. Always above him. Always humiliating him.
The worst part was that she did not even know.
He imagined the moment Lily realized how thoroughly she outstripped him. In his mind she laughed at his inadequacy, disgusted.
No.
That could not be allowed to happen.
It didn’t help that he kept finding common ground with her, as if the path to becoming enemies kept splitting into something else—something far more dangerous.
One cycle, Lily had been following Khar’s smooth movements across Vitro’s main console when she suddenly burst out in her melodic, and therefore intolerably smooth, voice.
