Sylvie straightened her stiffening back. Why did I agree to do this? she wondered, running her forearm across her forehead, smearing grease across her face. "Did you get this thing from the dump?" she asked for her aching arms.

    "Nah, the guy who sold it just had bad hygiene," Ajax replied from underneath the hover bike.

    Sylvie stuck her tongue out and continued scrubbing. The bike was a little bigger than a motorcycle, and instead of wheels, it hovered(hence the name). She began jamming a soapy rag into tight crevices and felt something sharp rip against her hand as she pulled it out. "Ouch!"

    "You okay?" Ajax asked, peeking his head out.

    "I am just fine thank you," Sylvie answered haughtily, refusing to reveal that her hand had been deeply cut and was bleeding badly.

    Ajax looked at her skeptically and slid back under the hoverbike. Muttering her favorite swear word, she wrapped a somewhat clean cloth around her hand and continued her work, wincing every time her gash would brush against something. By the end of the day of toil, Ajax's bike glinted in the light and it's engine was in great condition.

    As they were waiting in line for the shower, Ajax handed her ointment and clean bandages to put on her gash, saying, "Try not to pass out anytime soon."

    "How did you know?"

    "Just because I don't react doesn't mean I didn't notice. Rest up, the race is tomorrow and you'll need to be awake to watch me win."

    The race? It is tomorrow? It is going to be dangerous. What will happen next? Sylvie wondered as she drifted off to sleep.