Rocket Racer: The Final Episode (scifi asfr)
by Wersgor
"Ladies and gentlemen the final lap of the Great Galactic Race has begun." The announcer's voice went out to the entire solar system live from Titan, in excited, overfast and badly translated English. "There are only two racers left now The famous Rocket Racer and his arch-rival Demon Racer And no one has ever completed this course before It's very exciting!"
Standing at the front of a fascinated crowd, Uncle Crusty squinted at the huge screen where tiny dots of light traced the racers' progress against a field of stars. "Where are they now? Which one is Rocket's rocket?"
Bob tilted back his mechanic's cap and pointed. "It's the blue one see? Don't worry Mr. Racer I know Rocket will be okay He's the best." On his shoulder, Twip the space monkey chee-cheed his agreement.
Aboard his supercharged, superfast ship, Rocket Racer stood gazing steadily at the starfield ahead, his face calm, his tall, lithe body rock-steady. The space-shielded glass reflected back his tousled brown hair, big blue eyes and youthfully handsome features. He noted the red glow of his last rival's ship in a corner of the viewscreen, and smiled grimly. Whatever Demon Racer's many faults, he had never been a coward or a quitter.
From a speaker on his control panel, the announcer's voice continued to chatter away. "The two contenders are now approaching the final lap. In order to win they must fly closer than anyone ever has before to the deadly icy rings of Saturn. I repeat no one has ever done this before It's far too dangerous!"
Rocket Racer's smile broadened. Danger was what he lived for.
The planet loomed huge in his vision now, the vast rings of sub-zero gases filling the screen with their eerie beauty. Their menace was one that no space pilot had ever dared. Until now.
His eyes sparkling with the thrill of the race, he opened her up and sped straight ahead.
On Titan, the watchers gasped. "What's he doing?" cried Uncle Crusty in alarm. "He's getting too close!"
"That's my partner He's afraid of nothing!" Bob said adoringly.
In the cockpit of his evil black rocket, the evil Demon Racer watched his arch-competitor speed ahead and snarled evilly. "You won't win this time human I'll do anything it takes to beat you!" hissed the Satanic-looking alien. "I'm going to get you Rocket Racer grrrr!"
"Demon Racer is following!" Bob cried. "I knew it He never gives an inch!"
"They're both trying to fly closer than the other!" someone shouted. "It's crazy They'll both be killed!" added another.
The race announcer's voice was almost hysterical. "Ladies and gentlemen I don't believe this They're flying closer to those deadly rings than anyone has ever gone They're taking a terrible chance!"
Twip put his hands over his eyes, but peeked between his hairy fingers.
Rocket Racer saw his greatest foe gaining on him, and grinned. He had made a vow long ago at his father's grave to be the greatest space racer ever, and the time had finally come to make good. The Great Galactic Race was the ultimate challenge, and he was up against his ultimate enemy. And he was going to win.
Hard muscles standing out with tension, heart pounding with excitement and the sheer joy of racing, he opened the throttle all the way.
"I'm being told that we've lost voice contact with both rockets!" said the announcer. "A rescue team is being sent out to bring the racers back! I just hope they're all right!"
"What's happening?" Uncle Crusty wailed. "Why doesn't Rocket answer Why doesn't someone tell us? My poor nephew!"
The wait seemed forever while the emergency rescue rockets sped out from Titan. The two racing rockets had flown beyond the range of the Saturnian rings by now, and it was easy to catch them with tractor beams and tow them back to the spaceport. But when the medics went in to haul the pilots out, they got a shocking surprise.
Each racer still stood at his controls, eyes open, unhurt in any way - but they stood rigid, every bulging muscle locked in place. The medics couldn't even detect a pulse or any sign of breathing. "It's incredible ladies and gentlemen," the announcer proclaimed. "The unbelievable cold of the gaseous rings has frozen both racers solid! Even their controls are frozen so we have no way of knowing which one of them flew closer There's no way to know who the winner is!"
"Wait!" cried Bob. Pushing his way past the rescue team, he reached out to tenderly stroke Rocket Racer's immobile face. Then, pulling his hand away, he held up his finger in triumph. Everyone gasped as they saw that it had taken on a pale greenish glow!
"See this? His entire body is coated with this green frost and Demon Racer's isn't! He was so determined to win that he flew straight through the rings and out the other side! He's the undisputed winner!"
Uncle Crusty literally hopped up and down in fury. "Who cares about the race My nephew is frozen stiff! I told him and told him not to take such chances Now he'll never move or speak or fuck anyone again He might as well be back in the closet!"
"No!" protested Bob, throwing an arm around his statue-like lover's broad shoulders. "This is not just a tragedy It is also a great victory!" he cried proudly. "Rocket Racer has won the ultimate race and done what no other racer has ever done before! His name will be remembered forever!" His face lit up in one of his sudden huge grins. "And he's also won the grand prize - a two-week pass to SexWorld!"
But when they carried Rocket Racer's petrified body to that legendary theme planet, the admission sensors at the spaceport refused to let him through. Uncle Crusty, on TV, gravely explained the situation to his legions of fans: "Their stupid sensors can't tell that he's alive We have telepaths who know that he's still really alive and aware of everything but those stupid machines won't let him in without a pulse or a heartbeat. I will devote all my genius to improving their sensors but it will probably take a long time."
"Fortunately," said Bob a week later, "Rocket Racer has a long time. With all his vital systems permanently frozen, he is virtually immortal."
They stood at the front of a huge lecture hall at the Space Pilots' Academy, Rocket Racer still erect in the piloting pose that he would now remain in forever. The faithful Bob, wearing a suit and tie for possibly the first time in his life, explained to the thousands of eager young space cadets, "He will stand here for many years to come, his rigid body as young and vital and handsome as ever, while these tiny computer implants" - he tapped one, barely visible in his hero's hair - "transmit all his vast knowledge of space piloting and racing to generations of future pilots. It's the greatest contribution to space exploration anyone has ever made."
"But aren't you sad?" someone asked.
Bob beamed. "No! He still sees and feels everything that happens, you know. And every free period I have him all to myself!"
The students laughed and cheered. Rocket Racer showed no reaction - his boyish features frozen for all time in a bright-eyed, triumphant smile. In a moment of victory that would last forever.
END