ASH: ASH #77 - Four to Never Lap 1: Time Traps
Dave Van Domelen
dvandom at haven.eyrie.org
Sat Jan 27 17:23:48 PST 2007
The cover shows a segment of a bank of TV screens, each showing
different views of the Prix Ultime race. Oddly, a different car seems to be
in the lead on each of the four screens.
//|| //^^\\ || || .|. COHERENT COMICS UNINCORPORATED PRESENTS
// || \\ || || --X---------------------------------------------
//======================= '|` ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES #77
// || \\ || || Four to Never Lap 1: Time Traps
// || \\__// || || Copyright 2007 by Dave Van Domelen
___________________________________________________________________________
ACADEMY OF SUPER-HEROES ROLL CALL
CODENAME REAL NAME POWERS ASSIGNMENT
-------- --------- ------ ----------
Solar Max Jonathan Zachary Spacetime Control AMERICA
"JakZak" Taylor
Meteor Sarah Grant-Taylor Superspeed AMERICA
Scorch Scott Handleman Pyrokinetic CANADA
Green Knight Salvatore Napier Strength, Regeneration MEXICO
Fury Arin Kelsey Concussion Blasts MEXICO
Contact Aaron Zander Psi, Mind-over-Body DIPLOMATIC
Breaker Christina Li Telekinesis DIPLOMATIC
Essay Sara Ana Henderson Gadgeteer VENUS
Peregryn Howard Henderson Jr. Elemental Mage VENUS
Beacon George Sylvester Living Light VENUS
Geode Unknown Living Crystal VENUS
Lightfoot Tom Dodson Velocity Control TRANSIT
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[April 15, 2026 - Monaco, Eurasian Union]
It was a beautiful day, the springtime Sun shining brightly on the
citystate of Monaco thanks to special arrangements made with the "First Lady"
of Khadam, Angeline Radner, aka Sultry. Sultry was not in the royal box,
despite an invitation to do so...Ursula accepted that the low-born but
lately-elevated woman didn't care for the Grimaldis in general, and Ursula in
specific.
Princess Ursula looked at the street below, calmly holding the flag with
which she would officially start the Prix Ultime in a matter of moments.
Compared to the bustle of the Grand Prix, it was an almost pitifully thin
field: Arc of France, Lightfoot from the Combine, junior phenom Bobby
Chambers...also of the Combine, but sponsored by Khadam, Ethan "Dice" Kynes
of Manhattan, and Ursula's old teammate Eugene Kwan, aka Conflicto. None of
the Chinese or Moslem nations had sent racers this time, and she was a bit
surprised that the Otakuza had withdrawn their competitor...if anyone could
outshine Conflicto's car in a literal sense, it would have been the infamous
Yellow Senshi.
Each drove a specially modified Formula-1 car with additions both
technological and mystical intended to prevent them from abusing their powers
too badly in the race. The Prix Ultime's draw was that all the racers were
supernormals, but without precautions the entire thing would be over in
seconds with Lightfoot the clear winner...unless Conflicto glued his car to
the starting gate. A supernormal demolition derby, while having a certain
charm of its own, was not what Ursula envisioned for her city. Still, even
limited to "reasonable" speeds (by the definition of reasonable that included
any racing circuit) and prevented from using their powers against each other,
the race should certainly present aspects heretofore unseen in professional
racing.
Chambers brought the only professional skill to the race, and combined
with his enhanced reflexes, it would provide the "traditional" thrill of the
race, with his guile and experience letting him outthink his opponents.
Dice's inhuman luck would let him get away with truly insane maneuvering.
Both Conflicto and Lightfoot could use their powers to advantage in high
speed cornering. She wasn't quite sure how much use Arc's own powers would
be, but her overall resilience would certainly let her emulate Dice's
fearless insanity.
Engines were revving, tires smoking from burn-in spins. Five cars
abreast at the starting line with a sharp turn onto Rue Grimaldi forcing them
to jockey for position the moment the flag dropped...which it soon would.
Ursula turned about, waving regally to the crowd and to the television
cameras that filled every available space along the route. The crowd erupted
in shouts and cheers, and several of the racers revved their engines in
anticipation.
She raised the flag, and the crowd went hush in anticipation.
The flag dropped.
The five cars leapt from the starting line.
And something was horribly wrong...but Ursula couldn't quite put her
finger on it.
* * * *
[Skyhaven, above Monaco]
Derek spared a glance from the immense monitor screen for his wife, who
seemed to have gotten over her latest fit of pique. Most of the time she
could tolerate Ursula, even be friendly with the princess of Monaco. But
several days of maintaining the weather over Monaco had been taxing, and
she'd been snappish ever since getting up. They'd agreed that attending the
race in person might have been too much for Angeline to deal with today, so
they stayed in what amounted to the best-appointed and highest skybox in all
of Monaco...the floating fortress of Skyhaven.
"I got fifty on Dice, any takers?" Burnout smiled. Turning to Glyph,
she asked, "Before you decide, how many times has Conflicto tried to cheat
his way past the sigil?" an impish smile on her ruddy features.
"Today? None. Yesterday in practice? Five. The fifth time I trapped
it to give him a rash in a very personal place."
The control room erupted in laughter. Even latter-day royalty was
allowed the occasional crude humor, Derek reflected. The twins were too
young yet to understand what was being said, but being around laughter was
always good. Well, probably too young...you never knew what might happen
with the child of two supernormals. Look at the Henderson child, or Kelsey's
son. But, so far, his darlings had been essentially normal, healthy
children.
"It should have cleared up by now," Glyph added, more seriously. "But I
made it plain to him that it would return should he attempt to circumvent the
sigil again."
"Oh, I doubt he would have tried anything during the real race," Derek
smiled. "Eugene has grown up a lot lately...yesterday was about being
playful, but I don't think he would have really tried to cheat today. Even
without the burning sensation as a reminder. Ah, there's the starting flag,"
he nodded at the monitor.
The flag dropped.
The racers accelerated.
The picture went to static.
"Did someone forget to pay the cable bi..." Burnout started, before a
klaxon cut her off, and the static was replaced by an external view covered
in warning text.
"Gravitational anomaly, big one!" Burnout hissed. "And what the hell is
THAT?" she pointed at the mirrored dome covering part of Monaco.
"Brace for impact!" Derek shouted, diving to grab his children up and
making sure their personal force field belts were active.
To their credit, no one asked for an explanation, they just grabbed for
stanchions or chairs, just before the shockwave hit, buffetting Skyhaven and
making even the massive floating fortress shudder.
From the floor, Derek explained once the wave had passed, "That's a
gravitational gradient around Monaco, a region of slow light that acts almost
like a mirror for any angle but dead-on. A gravity force field of the
highest order...even Star Knight couldn't make one of those that big," he
added. "Someone's sealing off the city for some reason, and I want to know
why," he stood, handing the twins off to Sultry.
"Sensor scans are getting nothing, everything bounces off," Burnout said
in frustration.
"I have no scrying spells prepared, but I can feel a wrongness about
this," Glyph said, her serpentine-styled hair seeming to writhe in agitation.
"Well, go prepare one, and fast," Derek ordered. "Unless my eyes are
playing tricks on me, that sphere is growing!"
* * * *
[Chicago, Illinois Sector]
Tina suppressed a sigh, as she glanced around the living room of the
Taylor apartment. Sarah and JakZak were snuggled together in a corner of the
couch, Arin was sitting on Sal's lap, with a beanbag chair presumably still
below the hulking Italian somewhere. Tina was the only singleton at the
get-together, and it wasn't like she even had someone to bring.
"Looks like the race is about to begin," she said, drawing the attention
of the couples to the TV screen. They would have all liked to have attended
the race in person, but strongly worded diplomatic suggestions from above
limited them to Tom, who was in the race, and Scott, who was along to keep an
eye on Coulter and Spiral.
Suddenly, the screen went blank for a long few seconds.
"Crud," Sal sighed, starting to lean over to give the TV a light tap.
But before he could finish the motion, the image of the network's main sports
studio came on.
"We apologize, but we seem to have lost our feeds from Monaco. We're
trying to, wait..." the anchor paused, listening to something in his earbud.
"We switch now to the signal from our sister station at World News Network."
An obvious helicopter camera shot appeared, with the words "MONACO -
LIVE" heading the crawl at the bottom of the screen. A silvery dome could be
seen over part of the city, and the bulk of Skyhaven floated ominously above
it.
"...ppeared around part of Monaco," the reporter's voice cut in. "Calls
to the Khadam delegation aboard Skyhaven deny responsibility and advise that
we, and I quote, 'Run like hell, it's getting bigger!' And it does seem to
be doing just that, slowly but perceptibly. It simply engulfs all in its
path, rather than knocking over buildings as it grows. So far, we have no
indication why it appeared just as the Prix Ultime started, or who is behind
it...."
"Grab your gear and get to the launch tube," Solar Max ordered as
Meteor, already in costume after a lightning-fast change, held out his
armor. Raising his arms and standing still, he was clad in all but the boots
faster than he could blink. "I'm sending the destination to the computers
and getting clearance for a suborbital, we're going to Monaco!"
* * * *
[Monaco]
Dice Kynes sneered as he saw Conflicto do an almost-sideways drift
through the Chicane's first corner, blowing smoke into the crowd. Even a
Road Rager like him knew that that sort of stuff was wrong for a Formula
race. Maybe on the streets of Manhattan it'd get the kiddies excited, but it
was just stupid here. Only Conflicto's powers even let him pull it off
without smashing into one of the barriers lining the road. Still, it also
meant Conflicto was running wider than he had to, and both Lightfoot and Dice
got past him on the inside.
Dice was finally used to the freaky way Lightfoot used his speed powers
to take turns, though, and managed to get just inside the Combine tool and
catch a lucky break, nudging against the other car so he got a tighter turn
and Lightfoot was forced out a bit.
Conflicto was done showing off, though, and also managed to take
advantage of Lightfoot's momentary hesitation to slip past. With four laps
to go, Dice was in the lead again, but Conflicto and Lightfoot were hard on
his heels....
* * * *
Arc smiled as she pulled past Dice as the pack went into the 75th lap,
putting her into third. Dice had pushed his luck too hard last lap, trying
to bump past Lightfoot and almost crashing, giving her a shot at passing
him. Poor Bobby was almost a half lap behind everyone else, though...his
skill just wasn't a match for the powers of the others.
Arc gave her car another kinetic boost, surging past Lightfoot as they
rounded the corner at the Casino, leaving only Conflicto ahead of her. The
boosts were hard on her tires, as she actually skidded forward faster than
the wheels would roll, but it was worth it if she could hold it together long
enough to bring home the cup for France!
They came into a series of punishing turns just before the tunnel that
ran along the harbor, and she knew it was now or never.
The actual impact was relatively small. She could barely feel it
against the gee forces of the turn itself. But Conflicto's car started to go
wide, threatening to hit the roadside barriers.
"Merde!" she hissed as he suddenly swerved to the left and smashed right
through the barrier! Overcorrection? Bad luck? Just too tired this late in
the race?
Whatever the reason, the bright yellow and orange car sailed through the
air almost majestically as Conflicto no doubt frantically used his viscosity
powers to increase the air drag by orders of magnitude, then slapped against
the water of the harbor.
But Arc was already into the tunnel and in the lead.
* * * *
Conflicto snarled as he wrestled his car back into line at the last
second. He'd almost applied a slick instead of a stick by accident, and that
would have been Very Bad.
"Try to send me into the harbor, eh?" he growled as he entered the
tunnel right behind Arc. "Fine! I'll send you into the goddamn WALL!"
Pulling up right behind Arc, he reached out with his power. He only
had a meter before hitting Glyph's sigil, but in the confines of the tunnel,
that was all he needed to make the right rear wheel of Arc's racer lose all
purchase as the left rear wheel dug in ten times better than it should have.
Swerving, she smashed through the barriers lining the tunnel wall and
actually made it to the unyielding wall itself, her car crumpling up into an
origami death flower.
"She's tough, she'll live," Conflicto smirked as he sped out into the
sunlight, noting with grim satisfaction that both Lightfoot and Dice had been
forced to slow down to avoid Arc-shrapnel. Chambers, who Conflicto figured
must've been through a few crashes around him before, took advantage of that
to pull back into contention, but none of them was anywhere close to
Conflicto as he entered the 77th lap.
Coming around through the tunnel again, he could just barely make out
Arc's scowl as she stood and shook her fist at him from the sidelines, and
minutes later on his final lap he waved back.
There may have been some boos among the cheers as he took the checkered
flag, but that was just fine with Conflicto. Most of the people booing were
probably French anyway, so what did he care? And, at least Chambers had
managed to make it exciting by almost catching up in the final lap, so it was
Khadam for first and second. Lightfoot was actually a fairly close third,
with Dice on his heels.
"YaHOOOO!" Conflicto whooped as he slowed down to return to the winner's
circle....
* * * *
Ursula watched with a small frown. She'd hoped there wouldn't be any
wrecks, but at least Arc was unhurt, and the damage to the tunnel wall itself
was merely cosmetic.
The pack was rounding the final corner now and coming into the home
stretch, so Ursula raised the checkered flag over her head. Conflicto was in
the lead, with Chambers maybe two lengths behind him. Lightfoot and Dice
were jockeying for third a few more lengths behind Chambers. This was good.
Ursula had been worried that one of the racers would so obviously outclass
the others that the race would be over by the tenth lap, but it was still
tight even on the 78th lap.
In seconds, though, it would all be...
That's when the strange object suddenly popped into existence in the
middle of the road!
Conflicto turned hard to avoid slamming straight into it.
Too hard.
Despite desperate application of his powers over friction, he was
skidding sideways, headed right for Lightfoot and Dice, who had been paying
too much attention to each other in the "safe" final straightaway.
Chambers was better positioned and easily avoided the object, streaking
across the finish line.
But Ursula didn't drop the flag. The fireball that consumed the other
three drivers had her complete attention, and that of everyone in the crowd.
"Non..." she whispered.
* * * *
Dice Kynes stood proudly at the top of the three-tiered platform,
drinking in the adulation of the crowd. Not bad for a Road Rager, eh?
Princess Ursula was placing a bronze medal around Lightfoot's neck. Fast was
good enough for third, but not good enough for first. Conflicto was waiting
for his silver medal, proving that sneaky was better than fast. But Dice was
getting the gold...lucky was better than sneaky *or* fast. And skill and
grit got to watch from the stands, he thought, flashing a grin at Bobby
Chambers to rub it in.
"And the winner of the inaugural Prix Ultime," Princess Ursula said,
before repeating it in French and Italian, then continuing, "Ethan Kynes of
Manhattan!"
Dice bowed his head as she settled the ribbon in place around his neck,
then straightened up and pumped his fist in victory. It was the old "black
power" salute that his 'Rager gang, the Basilisk Blacks, had appropriated for
themselves. Okay, throwing a gang sign wasn't the classiest thing he
could've done, but he didn't care. It was his lucky day!
He couldn't help but notice that the princess looked a little distracted
during the ceremony, and now she seemed to rush off a little too quickly,
pulling out her blackcel as she ducked behind some bunting. A lucky trick of
acoustics let him overhear a few snippets.
"...Anchors gone...Casino? ...anyway, see you...minutes..."
Oho?
Chambers was in his face just then, offering a handshake and a smile,
with his nursemaid Coulter hovering over his shoulder. "Good race, man."
"Uh, yeah," Dice shook the other racer's hand. "Listen, I know the
crowd wants more of us, but I think I wanna get to the Casino for the party
sooner rather than later, you know?"
Coulter grinned, the expression a little lopsided. "I heard the
Princess too," he tapped his cyberear. "Let's go. You guys too," he
motioned to Lightfoot and Scorch.
"It's not like the press is live anyway," Scorch nodded. Something had
messed with the media feeds. Signals were coming in, but they were distorted
and overlapping, and Scorch had been stalking around like a caged panther
practically since the start of the race. At least, that's the impression
Dice was getting. The man definitely thought something was wrong, and was
looking to solve the problem by blowing things up. Dice knew people like
that back in Manhattan.
The ad hoc team pushed past the people starting to crowd onto the track
and joined hands, sprinting down the road at over a hundred miles an hour
thanks to Lightfoot's power. Despite her head start, Princess Ursula was
only just getting in the door seconds ahead of them.
"What's the situation, Princess?" Scorch asked, taking command of the
situation. Coulter shot him an irritated look, but Dice just went with the
flow. He knew he wasn't a leader type, and leader types tended to be the
first targets anyway. The only time he wanted to lead was on the track.
"As you know, we have three Anchors on staff here at the Casino," she
said. It was a point of pride that, despite the recent deaths of most of the
world's reality-fixers, Monaco was still able to retain a staff for the sole
purpose of keeping the games honest. "They're gone."
"Kidnapped?" Coulter asked.
"No. Vanished. One was even on a security camera at the time, and he
winked out of existence at the exact moment the race started. And I just got
a call that the other two are nowhere to be found either."
"On top of the weird communications problem," Scorch frowned. "But,
that doesn't make any sense. If there's one type of person you couldn't
simply make vanish, it'd be an Anchor."
"Unless you're so powerful that you can override a normal Anchor, and
have a beef with Anchors in general," Coulter ventured, and several people
blanched as the implications sunk in.
"You don't think...?" Ursula gasped.
"Man, if he's back, we're screwed," Scorch said, brow furrowed with
concern.
"He who?" Dice asked.
"Mister faux-din himself," Coulter replied. "Rebus." Dice remembered
the time Rebus had posed as Odin in Manhattan, and it had been bad-crazy.
And that was when Rebus was "just" an Anchor.
"Right. Calling ASH *now*," Lightfoot pulled out his comm. "This
better get through."
While everyone was looking at Tom, Dice couldn't help but notice that
Ursula was surreptitiously tapping something out on her blackcel as well.
Someone she wanted to alert without letting anyone else know about it?
Innnteresting.
Too bad Rebus would probably kill them all before he'd know what Ursula
was up to.
* * * *
Arc bowed one last time before descending the podium, sparing a glance
down at the gold medal around her neck. Kynes was surrounded by some
admirers, showing off his silver, while Lightfoot held his bronze up for his
teammate, Scorch. Speed and luck had been helpful, but pure Gallic grit and
determination had won the day.
Conflicto, for his part, was currently being fished out of the harbor by
Coulter and that bitch Spiral, whose one good point was that she was probably
rubbing Eugene's nose in the whole thing. Chambers, who'd sadly never really
stood a chance, had gone off to help Conflicto too, or at least point and
laugh.
"Claire, might I have a moment of your time?" Princess Ursula asked in
her faintly accented French.
"Certainly. Is this about the communications issue?" she replied. The
press was very despondant that some unknown effect was scrambling all signals
into (and presumably out of) Monaco.
"No, but it may be related. A strange sarcophagus has appeared in the
Palace. According to the security cameras, it arrived just as the race
ended. And while the communications problems started at the beginning of the
race, they coincided with the disappearance of at least one of the Anchors in
the Casino, who vanished into thin air. Who could manage that?"
"And you think the sarcophagus is the key to this riddle? I take it the
imagery on the sarcophagus is typically Egyptian?" Arc asked with a frown.
"Egyptian, yes. Typical, no," she showed the screen of her blackcel to
Arc. "But if there's a new Egyptian god seeking his own iconography and
setting up this puzzle for us, well...."
Neither had to say more. They knew who the likely suspect would be, and
Claire was one of the few people to have crossed swords with him and come out
intact. They were fortunate to have another in Monaco, as well.
"You get ahold of Coulter, I will attempt to punch a signal through to
EUROPA if I can get anything out in this mess," Arc advised as they sprinted
towards the palace.
* * * *
The ceremony had been delayed a bit by the cleanup on Arc's car and some
weird stuff about scrambled communications signals, but it was Eugene's
moment to shine now. Even if the signal wasn't getting out live, it'd be on
highlight reels for years to come. In your FACE, Frenchie!
Conflicto found Anya's face in the reviewing stand and smiled more than
a little smugly. She may have been backing Chambers, the number two guy, and
she might hang out with Lightfoot at the Academy, but that was just number
three. Conflicto was number ONE. She smiled back weakly.
"BOOYAH!" he shouted out as Tiara stepped up to him with the gold medal.
"Khadam 4 evah!"
"Yes, Eugene, I'm sure they're all proud of you," she whispered, her
microphone pickup thumbed to mute. "Now behave yourself for at least another
few minutes, something's come up that I think you're going to need to be a
grown-up for." Then she motioned for him to bow his head, and turned the
amplification back on. "And the winner of the inaugural Prix Ultime, Eugene
Kwan of Khadam!"
The crowd went wild, as he knew was only right. Too bad he wasn't going
to get to spend more time rubbing it in, he sighed, glancing over at Arc.
But duty was apparently calling.
A few minutes later, he and the princess were heading for the Jardin
Exotique, with Coulter and Spiral tagging along. Coulter clearly smelled a
story, and old habits died hard, even when you hit them repeatedly with a
spiked baseball bat. Mmmm, hitting Coulter with a spiked baseball bat.
"As you know, a number of strange things have been happening since the
race began," Ursula said as they walked, security clearing a path for them.
"The signals issue is only one of the more obvious ones. We also have a
report of missing Anchors from the Casino, one of them vanishing into thin
air. And now a strange object has been reported in the Jardin."
"Where in the garden?" Conflicto asked. Something had been nagging at
him when she mentioned Anchors, but it was pushed aside by a different dread.
"Exactly where you're hoping it's not," Ursula frowned as they entered
the grounds of the exotic garden. "The spot where TerraStar was standing
when Triton sent her into an oubliette."
"And now the stone bitch is back, and she has plans for Monaco,"
Conflicto nodded, pulling out his blackcel. "Boss-snake and Tritey gotta
know about this. If I can even get a call through."
* * * *
Ambulances drove off, but with no sirens. They weren't needed when
going to the morgue.
Lana Smith sat at the side of the track, cradling her head in her
hands. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn."
Tony Drake sat down beside her. "There wasn't anything you could do,
Lana. They died as soon as that fireball went up. Even Tom's forcefielded
suit wasn't enough...they think the sigil spells on the cars reacted badly to
the fire and amplified things. Dice caught a lucky break, as you'd expect,
but they think it just meant the other two took more of the blast. At least
you managed to pull Kynes out of the wreck before it shifted."
"I know, it's just...this was supposed to be a fun day, a break from all
the save the world crap. But first we lose contact with the outside, and
then that...thing...appears in the middle of the track," she gestured at the
strange sarcophagus.
Scorch, Arc and Coulter were examining the object carefully, while
others stood back and watched, or comforted each other.
"It gets weirder," Tony sighed. "Princess Ursula tells me that the
Anchors at the Casino vanished at the start of the race. There's not a lot
of people who could make that happen."
"Tried calling it in? I just know Grind'll be overjoyed to hear Rebus
might be back," Lana said.
Tony nodded. "Tried, no way to tell if it got through the weird
interference. Have you really looked at the sky in the past few minutes?
You can see the helicopters flying around, but most of them don't even try to
come closer. And I think I saw one flicker. Skyhaven looks wrong too. Like
it's only half there sometimes."
"It's the clouds that weird me out. They've started moving back in, but
they're all blurry. Even for clouds."
"And I bet that sarcophagus has something to do with it," Drake frowned.
* * * *
[Nice, France]
"There's more in here!" Green Knight shouted, ripping out a wall. The
door of the building was already on the other side of the silvery barrier,
and it slid towards him at a walking pace.
A green and gold blur told him that the people had been taken care of,
and he ran down the street to the next building. They'd been evacuating as
much of Nice as they could, barely staying ahead of the expanding dome of
whatever the hell it was. Solar Max said it felt like gravity warps, and
that made some sense.
"Triton's got a theory, people," Solar Max said over the team comms.
There had been a few tense minutes when they first arrived, with everyone
just assuming the CSV was behind the situation, but once cooler heads had
prevailed, everyone teamed up to do damage control while Triton tried to suss
out a way to stop it. It really seemed like more of a Peregryn job, but the
only person who could get Howard here fast enough to make a difference was on
the wrong side of the dome.
"Let's hear it," he heard Breaker reply. He could see her golden energy
pulling people away from the advancing dome a half click down the street.
"He says the center of the effect is in Monaco's Jardin Exotique, where
he had to create a warp trap some time back for a rebellious member of his
team," Solar Max said. "To be specific, TerraStar. He thinks, and I agree,
that she might be using Heraclius's power in an attempt to get her body back,
and it's causing everything to get pulled into her prison instead of the
other way around."
"So, what's the plan?" Sal asked.
"We'll let you know when we have one...the people are probably safe,
just trapped. Just don't let yourself get sucked in...unless we decide
that's the plan!"
"Terrific..." Arin muttered.
============================================================================
Next:
Confused? Well, it's only the first lap of "Four to Never," things
should get a little clearer in CSV #27, "Four to Never Lap 2: Time Bombs"!
Then come back here as they get all muddled again in ASH #78, "Four to
Never Lap 3: Time Slips"!
============================================================================
Author's Notes:
Co-Plotted by Dave Van Domelen and Tony Pi.
While you're waiting for CSV #27's explanation of the weird storytelling
this issue, here's a hint: the choice of viewpoint characters is consistent
with what's going on. Of course, the title of the issue might also be a
hint. ;)
A map of the Grand Prix course (also used for the Prix Ultime) can be
found at: http://www.thegrandprixclub.com/MC%20map.GIF. Burnout is rooting
for Dice because she used to run the Cyanide Blues, and the Basilisk Blacks
are an auxiliary of the Cyanide Blues.
A "blackcel" is a piece of technology introduced in early issues of
CSV. It's biologically keyed to its owner, and along with other features
this makes it very hard to fake a call from someone who has one.
More notes in CSV #27, once the mystery has been cleared up a little.
============================================================================
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