The following day, the elderly pair did not appear at the Goblin Fountain.
Their ursine healer came out just long enough to announce that her charges needed a day of rest.
Ashley mumbled something about the museum and wandered away.
Kolarrr’ka waddled off to interview the current station hosts.
T’sss’lisss slithered toward the Witch’s Castle, curious about the little windows high-up on its dark towers.
Boro and Sata looked at each other. “Want to . . .” he began, “explore some old rides?”
“Yeah!” she replied with a very child-like grin.
Every building, ride, or play space, they already knew, began with a sign, in the language of Nebador, explaining what was within, what skills or equipment were necessary, and what dangers might befall the unprepared.
They came to the first attraction, a large opening in a thick hedge. “Fairy Picnic Area,” Boro read. “Any species, any age, any handicap, no equipment needed, no dangers. Small nutrition cabinet within. ”
Sata scrunched her face. “Maybe for lunch after something more exciting.”
Boro nodded and they wandered into Forestland.
Sata read the next sign at a dark cave-like opening. “Beneath-the-Forest Challenge Course. Strong arms and tail required, gloves recommended. No safety nets, extreme danger for most species. ”
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Boro’s face turned sour. “Um . . . I wasn’t thinking of anything that exciting.”
Sata looked at him with wide eyes. “Me neither!”
Next, they came to Ice Mountain Bobsleds.
“Anyone can ride who fits in a bobsled and enjoys high speeds and sudden inertia changes,” Boro read. “Clearance is one meter. Equines and other large species, beware. ”
Sata grinned. “We work on a response ship, ride fanators, slide down water ramps . . .”
Boro nodded and continued reading. “Step One. Make sure the pond on your left is full of water, or the bobsled won’t stop and you will die. ”
Their eyes snapped open wide and they hurried down the path, but relaxed when they found the pond completely full, and could see the last section of bobsled track slightly underwater.
They looked at each other and nodded.
“Step Two. Hook the lead bobsled to the winching cable. ”
“Got it!” Sata declared.
“Step Three. Winch the bobsled to the top of the lift hill. ”
For the next quarter hour, they took turns working the large crank handle as the bobsled car slowly ascended the steep section of track.
“Can you imagine what Jimox and Teina when through,” Sata said while resting, “when they had to figure this out for the first time, all by themselves?”
Boro stopped cranking and let Sata take over. “That would be scary . . .
and fun.”
“Step Four,” Boro read when Sata announced the winch would go no further. “Climb the stairs on your right. ”
While their arms rested, their legs got a good workout.
A cool breeze whistled through the simulated icy mountain pass where the bobsled car waited, less than a meter from the highest point on its track. A small shelter, made to look like an alpine cabin, once housed a Similand Safely Attendant, but now contained only a Nebador emergency medical kit.
“Step Five,” Boro continued reading on a new sign, “Attach the safety line to the bobsled. ”
“Check,” Sata said.
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“Disconnect the winch line. ”
“Done.”
“Push the bobsled over the hump. ”
Sata pushed. “Ummmmph! It’s about a meter on the other side now.”
“Step Eight. Climb into the bobsled. ”
The track the bobsled was poised to descend was much less steep than the lift hill, but quickly disappeared between boulders and into caves. Loops of track could be seen in many places on the mountainside below, but exactly how they connected, and where they went when unseen, was a complete mystery to the pair of visitors. They climbed into the bobsled cautiously, Boro stepping in first to sit in back, Sata in front, her smaller size allowing him to see.
The instructions continued at the front of the passenger compartment of the bobsled, so Sata read. “Step Eleven. Secure your inertia straps. ”
Similar to those on the Manessa Kwi, this was quickly done.
“Step Twelve. Reach back, pull slightly on the safety line, and release it.
The Ice Mountain Bobsled ride will begin as soon as you let go of the safety line. ”
Boro carried out the last step.
The bobsled car began to move very slowly at first, but both riders knew that gravity was now in complete control, and their only hope was to somehow survive, physically and mentally, until the pond at the bottom of the simulated mountain brought them to a complete stop.
A glimpse of Forestland, then sudden darkness, followed seconds later by Castleland spread out far below. Faster and faster the bobsled raced down its track . . . crystals of many colors glowing in a dark cave . . . blue sky with a few puffy clouds . . . darkness with nothing but a pair of beady red eyes . . . a bright glimpse of the World Tree . . . a jerk to the right and more darkness . . .
It occurred to Sata that the bobsled instructions, unlike the fanators, hadn’t said anything about screaming.
Boro’s mind raced, aware that he wanted to be in control, like when he was the engineer or pilot of a response ship, but couldn’t be, other than to hold on and not let any part of his body get more than a meter outside the bobsled.
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A sudden jerk to the left took them into darkness again, with many pairs of yellow eyes peering at them, but suddenly the bobsled dropped, seemingly straight down, and a second later emerged into the light again.
Sata screamed, wondering for a moment if she could stop the ride to go back and get her stomach. A moment later she laughed at herself.
That same plunge in the darkness made Boro completely sure he was about to die, if not on this stretch of track, then the next. Time slowed for him, and suddenly he was back on a medieval cattle ranch, at about age five, trying desperately to make a huge long-horned cow go where he wanted it to go, and feeling sure he was about to die. Moments later he was on the slave auction block, six or seven years later, fearing his next master would beat him to death for being too clumsy. Next, guards surrounded him and his friends and teacher, the high priest wore an evil grin, and Boro knew the dungeon was next. Finally, he was fully prepared to die on an icy planet, but had lived to see the stars again.
After all that, he suddenly realized why he had been able to surrender to death gracefully during the Great Transformation on Satamia Star Station.
Although he certainly preferred to live, no fear of dying remained in his heart.
So if he was going to die on the next stretch of Ice Mountain Bobsled track, and couldn’t do anything about it, he might as well enjoy it.
Sata heard his howl of excitement, right behind her, and knew her friend had just found a new depth of joy inside himself. She added her own shriek as daylight and darkness flashed around them three more times, then suddenly water was spraying up all around and they were pressed forward into their inertia straps.
Boro felt his heart pounding in his chest, and was dimly aware that the bobsled hadn’t come to a complete stop in the water, but had slowed just enough to bring it out of the pond and back to the boarding station with a gentle bump into the line of cars on the track.
Sata felt Boro’s arms surround and hold her tightly. She closed her eyes, smiled, and listened to her own heart pounding.
Neither was aware of the passage of time, but a few minutes later they were brought back to the present by the bump of another bobsled car into
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theirs from behind.
“Bok!” exclaimed an avian voice who had also just had the ride of her life.