"Hard to get around that," she said."Hard to get around that," she said. "Parts wear out. The worst part is trying to find new gasket rings and insulation, but I found a guy near the Arc who keeps track of parts for people with Icehogs and makes equivalents." I nodded. "How does it ride with the pollution-controls?" I asked. "Depends. If it's throttled too high, the PC will overcompensate and create a vacuum. Have to be careful the engine doesn't get away from you. Trying to throttle down too fast and it tends to stall. PC throttles down on its own way too quick. And releasing the clutch when that happens is a complete disaster. Right now, though, I've got it tuned right, I think." She smiled. "Let's go." She kicked her bike to life in two kicks, while my Pendor-made Jialani whirred up on it's own. She made a lot of noise; the Jialani whirred. She roared out of the motorpool. One thing I like about Jialani's, though, is traction and acceleration. I shot out like a bullet, thankful for the plasform backwall of the bike's seat that held me in place and shoved me along. We were soon riding side by side, and she smiled at me. I smiled back. We roared along the 'March, the longest single road on all Pendor, for about an hour, each of us speeding up until we were well over 160kph, roaring down the highway. She looked wonderful in her black leather jacket with the streamers of loose leather flowing behind her, a good feminine biker's jacket, I suppose. We headed for the mountainside that we had agreed upon as our lunch site, and when we reached the place where our path left the road, I went first. |