Part 3:

Crazy with youth, he would throw back his head and yell "Mate!" when he picked up a pallet, and the other men around the elevator and in various aisles would shake their heads and smile. With two pallets, he would careen from a side aisle and race down the main aisle to the freight elevator, drop them off and head back for more.

Better than anything else, he remembered his sharp instinct for break time. He would work up until the last possible second, and then he would fake it, moving back and forth slowly, jockeying along with everyone else, closer and closer to the break area. Always looking busy, and every once in a while spotting another man going through similar motions.

Then when the break bell sounded, the men would pour forth in their tugs and warehouse trucks and pallet jacks, toward the break area. They would burst in, "First come, First Served," and they would produce cards and doughnuts, and they would be fully into their break almost before the sound of the bell died away. Characters all, Arvius remembered the waxed mustaches, the darting eyes, the glasses worn up over the top of a gleaming bald head . . .

Once, just before break time, he spotted Hanes lurking behind a huge stack of merchandise, and he had mischievously twisted the tiller grip and inched in slowly, depressed the lift button, and then quickly he had withdrawn taking with him the cover of Hanes.

The little man ran out into the open, shook his fist and yelled with his lisp, "You'll be thorry, Arvio! You'll be thorry!"

Everyone laughed, including little Eddy Hanes, after a while: but for a long time after, long after it was no longer funny and the supervisors had their eye on Arvius for promotion, he would pick up a pallet and yell his joyous mad yell, and from around the warehouse would drift calls and cries, "You'll be sorry, Arvio!"

The supervisors correctly gathered that the men sensed Arvius was a loner, and individual. He was encouraged to learn the system, and almost before he knew it, he was working directly with the operators; and then, one beautiful day, he was called in by Sid and given the choice: foreman or operator?

Arvius realized the amber Key Signal had been on. He sat up rubbing his eyes. "How long??" he wondered aloud. The buzzer went on suddenly, and Janice lurched her turbine whistling lower and lower as she went through the shutdown procedure. Arvius punched the override switch, but still she came down, the Key Signal lit again and again. Each time he got the light out, it re-lit. Frantically, he looked at the instruments. They all read straight across.

Then a display was coming belatedly into the viewer. Anxiously Arvius watched, waiting for the letters to clear. When he could read it, the display said, "Weigh Station, four minutes." Arvius passed the back of his hand across his forehead. "Have to cut down on the RD," he said to himself.

Janice was off the pumice then, and her speed was falling with increasing rapidity. But it was all right. Maybe Gutley would be at the station. They were nearing conventional speeds when another display came up, and it read: "One minute." Arvius cranked the magnification up on the viewer, and he could see in the distance the glow of the station. He stretched his fingers, nervously opening and closing his hands, getting ready to take over as her speed came down still more.

He felt a tug, and he saw the air pressure gauge flicker. Janice hit the trailer brakes. The Key Signal again. As he put it out, ready this time with his hand poised over the button, Janice did her signaling, and the bushes along the side of the road stood out for seconds at a time, yellow and red flashes.

They were about to enter Kansas, and it was late. They sailed up over a ridge and floated down, and there was the station. Then they were rolling off from the extreme right, and the repelectric ended. Arvius took the big wheel and he touched the brakes just enough to disengage Janice. He began to work the trailer brake handle gently, up and down, and the big cruiser dropped below fifty, the thump of the automatic transmission came through the floor boards and carpeting, and it was a solid reassuring knock. He hit the foot brakes again, lightly, and then again more firmly.

Ahead, in the station, there was a double line of trucks. In the center of the two lines the station shanty stood, and Arvius took the line on the left, nosing in close behind a tanker, bulky and greasy, the type Arvius would expect to be pulled by an ancient White.

From the head of the line, two old diesels were pulling out side by side. Arvius could pick up the husky outline of one of the tractors: a Brockway, and the other he wasn't sure of, it could have been a GMC. The two old horses were belching bluish smoke, and shifting gears so laboriously he could hear them from his position at the end of the line. Arvius craned his neck, but there was no sign of Gutley or Luta II. Everyone moved up, and Arvius smiled as he followed suit.

The weigh station was like an oasis. Here it was the driver's world, and here the little men, puffy with pride, walked stiffly among their great machines, exchanging self-conscious greetings and taking themselves very seriously. The world here was made of tapping sounds as operators checked equipment, blinking, flashing lights, laughter and exclamation floating out from anywhere, all under the powerful mercury night lights of the station. To Arvius, the weigh stations at night had an unreal stadium quality, and he loved it. Forgetting his self-admonition about the RD, he took another quick swallow.

Under the lights, the leaves of the trees around the station looked thick and almost fleshy. He watched in the rear-viewer as a unit came snaking in off the Interstate, seemed to pause blinking at the station threshold and then all at once chose the line on the right and came rolling on, halting with an aggressive schuss of brakes and flashing of lights.

Arvius looked casually over. He had to admit she was a pretty rig, almost as clean as Janice. Like Janice, she was a turbine cab-over-engine Kenworth, and she was a lavender color with a metallic tint, and a deep, rich luster. The operator had an aluminum visor across his windshield, and it added a lot to the ready appearance of the big tandem axle cruiser. Arvius watched, grudgingly acknowledging to himself the admiration of his new neighbor as the operator opened his door and climbed down.

The man walked around stiffly and Arvius recognized him without recalling his name. Apparently the newcomer was familiar with Arvius too, because he waved, and Arvius blinked his marker lights in return. The man beckoned with his arm and mouthed the words, "Come on down," but it was time to move up again, and Arvius put Janice in gear and rolled forward without bothering to decline the other operator's invitation.

Arvius began to wonder if Gutley had come and gone through the station already, and as he moved farther along the line, he began to suspect that was the case. Luta II was nowhere to be seen. Now his only objective was to get through with the weighing and back on the road. As he moved closer and closer to the scales, he quaffed some more of the RD. By the time he was actually holding for the light, his hands were sweating and his head was light with the irrepressible tension only rolling could alleviate.

When at last Janice had been weighed and recorded, and he got his light, Arvius was trembling. He gave Janice full power, and she jumped forward, her wheels slipping a little on the metal plates of the scale, as her tremendous power torqued the wheels. The still air of the station was split by the scream of Janice's turbine and her spinning tires. The cruiser beside him was pulling out simultaneously. Ahead, the double lane from the holding lines narrowed to the single width of the Interstate approach. Neither cruiser gave ground as they accelerated, screaming and thundering, side by side.

Back in the station, the men, tiredly walking, stiffly slapping at bothersome bugs drawn by the powerful lights, paused to watch the scene unfold at the station exit.

Arvius was gaining speed so rapidly he was pushed back in his chair. He glanced to his right, and the companion rig was rolling right alongside. The approach ramp was just ahead; he could see the repelectric glowing in a line. The unit at his side refused to yield, and although Arvius knew the other man had the right of way, he simply didn't care. Nothing was to come between Janice and Luta II. He reached up and grabbed the horn, pulling the wire far down into his cab. Pawoout! "Damn him anyway," Arvius whispered, and then he waved his arms and shouted, "Get back!" although he knew the other driver could not see or hear him.

Miraculously, the other cab's nose did fall back a little, and Arvius knew then the other man was lost. His ears were rent by a shattering bass note of the other Kenworth's horn, but that was all right. "Too late for that!" Arvius yelled, and he laughed, shaking his fist.

He looked ahead then, and he saw why the other cruiser had given up. They were going much too fast. With alarm, he looked down at the speed indicator. It read seventy, and it was climbing rapidly. Ahead there was a turn with a posted sign which read "Maximum safe speed forty-five miles per hour." Arvius knew this turn, it ended with the repelectric, and it was tough to handle at the posted speed. He cut his engine and locked the trailer brakes with one smooth motion. Adrenaline and the RD burst through his constricted system with each squidging beat of his heart, for there was nothing to do but hope the unit on his back wouldn't hit him.

The turbine engines sang down together. Janice and the other unit howling weeeowwmmmm as they fought to retain their equilibrium and stay on the road. Number 1074 was sashaying from side to side over her frozen wheels, and blue smoke plumed up from the hot tire material. The blank facade of the other Kenworth was suddenly in too close, and Arvius braced himself against the crush he knew must come, involuntarily squeezing his eyes shut. But then the other unit's trailer came walking right around and Arvius, watching, thought, "Jackknife," and through his mind there flashed a picture of a crushed tractor, smoke and grisly death.

The repelectric was alongside now. Both units were screaming and skidding. Janice shook her trailer from side to side. The other unit, much worse off, was out of control, and its trailer was fully perpendicular to the road boundary, marching sideways, near flipping.

The repelectric saved them both. Arvius' hands flew to the controls. He released the brakes and restarted the engine in record time. Janice settled down almost immediately, keying on the repelectric and running smoothly out of trouble. Accelerating again, she headed for the Interstate the way a shark heads for familiar water.

The other unit was straightening out too. Arvius could see that she was no longer skating sideways, and had begun to right herself. But she was far back, and he cranked up the viewer magnification in order to see more clearly what was happening before the scene was swept from view by a long curve. Back in the station, he could see a dozen or so men, all grouped together, pointing in his direction. He imagined he could hear them laughing, now that it was all over and no one was hurt, but still a few of them had their mouths open.

His camera panned quickly around the station, and the scene was the same, men returning to their jobs, cruisers, new and old, and in the mechanical holding bay Luta II. Then the station was gone and there was only blackness.

There was no doubt. Arvius was certain he had seen Luta's lean black snout in the mechanic's bay. No wonder he hadn't seen her on the line. If the other cruiser hadn't come out right alongside, he would have spotted Gutley right away, but with all the confusion he had almost missed him. So Gutley had broken down. Incredible as it seemed, the contest then was about over. Arvius had the turbine, the acceleration advantage. He could hardly believe his good fortune.

In the distance ahead, he caught a glimpse of the marker lights of the tanker that had pulled out of the station ahead of him. Janice quickly closed the gap, and blinked her lights. Politely, the slower vehicle edged over and Janice moved up and whisked easily around. Arvius was glad to see that the tanker was a White, as he had guessed back in the station. He was also happy to see that the old vehicle was really laboring as she wallowed along, like some ancient dinosaur; her greasy diesel engine belched and complained hoarsely. Janice eased past slickly, flashing her lights and signaling.

Arvius relaxed and grinned. Gutley was pushing a diesel too. If the old man could do no better than this, he stood no chance, that is if he ever got what had him sidetracked repaired. Things were looking good. Arvius whistled as he reached for more of the RD. The idea now was to put as much distance as possible between himself and the weigh station, before Gutley accomplished his repairs and resumed the chase.

In the rear-viewer, he saw the Kenworth from the near accident coming around the tanker. Who would drive a diesel these days when he had a choice? Arvius shrugged. Gutley could do what he wanted, but it looked as if Arvius was a sure bet to pull into Denver first.

Luta II was idling in the mechanic's bay at the station. Gutley was perched in the operator's chair, with his head down, deep in thought. If anyone had seen him, they would have assumed he had fallen asleep. He had seen Arvius pulling out like a madman, and he had shaken his head with a show wise motion, and said, "The kid is full of the RD."

Luta II's systems were just turning over. Gutley was relaxed as he reached for the box on the seat beside him, and spilled its contents out on the console ledge. With his finger, he slowly separated the items of the innovation. There was a jack, which sprouted a thick cable. The cable ended by dividing into twelve appendages. One looked like a pirate's eye patch, and Gutley carefully slipped it over his head and fitted the transparent material over his right eye. Another of the weird assortment was a two-finger ring, and this went over his index and middle fingers. There was also a plug for his ear, and a few patches of blank tape. He opened his shirt and put the tape on his abdomen. He was almost ready, and he began to smile wickedly, holding the jack up with one hand and just looking at it as he savored the moment. Luta II's heavy iron breathing as she idled seemed anxious to Gutley, and without further dramatics he took the jack and inserted it in the open plug on the dash.

The gleaming black Peterbilt which had been in the mechanic's bay for seventeen minutes by the station master's clock suddenly switched on her lights and pulled out. The station master watched Gutley go, and marveled at the smooth precision with which Competition Systems Inc.'s Top Operator creamily shifted gears.

A Kansas State Trooper came over with his steaming mug of RD. His pupils were dilated and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. "What do ya think he was holdin' for?" the officer asked.

The station master shrugged, and he said, "Who knows what John Gutley does anything for?"

Far ahead, Janice was belting along, and Arvius was even more loaded with the drug than the trooper. He had a tolerance built up, and he consumed much more than the average man before it caught up with him, but by the time he was seized by the accumulative effect of the drug, he was usually well into his run. Now he looked back, and every once in a while, he could see the lights of the other Kenworth glimmering briefly, then fading behind a black hill or curve in the road. The other operator was neither gaining nor losing, but pacing, pacing, steadily rolling, the way Arvius liked it.

Janice flashed through the intricate webbing of an interchange, and then the lights of the other cruiser were gone. Arvius was a little lonely then. "Probably pulled off for San Antonio," he muttered.

It was very dark. Once, Arvius switched off all but his marker lights, just to see how dark it truly was. Without the powerful beams, everything was black. Behind and in front of him, all around him, there was only a void, and the blackness had a closing power he could feel. It was drawing in around his cruiser, engulfing him. There was no feeling of speed, only the sound of the wheels ripping over the pumice, and Arvius couldn't tell what Janice was doing anymore, or if she was doing anything at all. In a mild panic, he quickly switched the lights on again. "Only a madman would run in the dark without his light," he whispered. Then he tried again, to see how long he dared to do it.

He took more of the Road Drug. His eyes were spacey, his body relaxed. He hoped through the film of the drug that Gutley, wherever he was, would stay there. Somehow he knew Gutley wouldn't oblige. Through his torpor, he sensed the older man's presence. It seemed he could almost see the angular grace of Luta II, pounding hard behind him and somehow closing the gap.

In a few miles, the Interstate would close. Arvius looked forward to the thirty or forty miles stretch which consisted of local highway. And he wished Luta II would catch up. They would be moving through local towns, stopping for lights, and every time he and Gutley came to a halt, he anticipated the advantage he would have due to the superior torque and acceleration of Janice. Without the repelectric, it would be man to man.

Gutley had been braced when he plugged in, but the impressions and sensations which flooded through him as he roared down were so strong and so unusual, he was very nearly overwhelmed. He was fairly brimming with desire; his lust to win was vicious, almost sexual. And there was the drag of the high-traction pumice: he could feel it. The tear of the wind, the wheel was his hands. His fingers lay laced rigidly in his lap, and they twitched this way and that, sometimes jerking up in mid air before him. A little to the right, back to the left, relax, tense, power up, down, off, on, while his body jigged, taut as a wire, juices flowing, muscles loose, tight, open, closed.

Servomotor whining, was that his heart? Freaky connections, zooming, zooming, the growl of the huge Peterbilt was a purring in the old man's throat. No difference. They were one, and fly, fly, fly. The catalyst. Devour and pass. Ah, oh. Pistons hammering, in his heart. All good. All healthy, all seasoned. Race, race and drive. Work heart. Busy mind. Turn over soul. Luta II bore down and ate the miles.

Arvius had been sitting in the same position for hours. His arms were folded across his chest, and he was bolt upright. Oh beautiful movement! He rocked gently back and forth in time with the rushing sway of Janice. If his glazed eyes hadn't flicked and wandered to the instruments occasionally, his condition could have been mistaken for catatonic. It had been many hours since he'd seen the sun, and already he could detect the first subtle signs of dawn breaking behind him. Yet he didn't feel that he'd been confined in the cab for long at all. It was the Road Drug. In fact, his mind was outside, flashing with the cruiser as light and playfully as a shadow.

Janice was rolling well. The hollow insistent booming of her wheels over the pumice was steady, varying in pitch neither up nor down – the mark of regular cruising. Gutley was nowhere as far as Arvius could see. Through the haze of the RD, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up an a cat's curve of a smile. Whatever improvement Gutley had alluded to in the Detroit diner couldn't have been much, because where was the old man now?

Every time Arvius thought about the sweet moment when he had looked back in the station and seen Luta II in the mechanic's bay, his ears went up. He recalled the diesel tanker he had passed, its headlights bobbing in the rear-viewer, and he pretended the old White had been Gutley. Janice had simply rocketed away as the tanker dwindled in the viewer. "Too bad, Gutley," Arvius said. "I gotcha now!"

When he had last seen the White, it had been about the size of a toy, perfect in every detail, and harmless in its distance. Still Arvius wondered what Gutley had been doing in the holding bay, and he found it hard to believe the old man who knew his rig so well had simply broken down. It occurred to him that Gutley might have deliberately stopped to set up the touted innovation, and he worried about that for a moment, but then he settled down, telling himself, "To hell with it, the only thing that would help Gutley now would be a set of wings, if he could figure out a way to attach them."

But Arvius wasn't sure as he would have liked to be, and so he kept an eye on the rear-viewer no matter what. Far head, there was a flashing yellow glimmer, and he knew even before the display came up that this was the construction. Janice flashed the Key Signal, and Arvius was ready, punching it out almost instantly. The big Kenworth eased off the pumice to the center strip as carefully as a woman might step over a puddle, and she signaled as she drifted over and rolled onto the right-hand lane.

Part IV Conclusion