A red light flashed on the outer side of each boot. And as it did so, the ski started to extend. At the front and back the ski slid out from its holding position on the sole, making a soft beep. At about six inches either side, they stopped, clicked into place, and the light turned to green. It was a perfectly formed miniature ski, with a slightly more curved lip at the front than a full length one. Attached to the outer side of each boot was a small horizontal cylinder.
‘On!’ commanded Tom.
Instantly, the lights turned off, the cylinders fired a fierce blue flame, and Tom was propelled forward. Starting smoothly, and accelerating rapidly, he crouched like a downhill skier, but holding his rifle rather than sticks. The skis cut parallel grooves in the snow as he drove forward. He banked to the right, then the left, creating sprays of snow as the skis cut in.
Van and Arnie quickly followed suit.
Zak paused and gazed up at the mountain.
‘I can jump the cliff,’ he said. There was no need to shout, as they were all linked by a voice communication channel.
‘No you can’t,’ said Van, who was already reaching the trees.
‘I can. I’ve worked it out,’ replied Zak.
‘Zak,’ said Tom. ‘I’m fed up with this. We can’t get over the cliff. How many times have we tried.’
‘Lots, but I’ve now realised how it can be done,’ insisted Zak.
‘All the cliffs we’ve tried stick out at the top, and I checked this one on the map,’ said Tom. ‘It’s the same.’
‘It’s designed that way Zak,’ said Van, as if he knew the makers of the game. ‘It’s not a proper route, it’s just a red herring.’
‘There’s no point in going the boring route. I want to get the top quickly, and this is the way,’ said Zak.
He knew he shouldn’t try it, not this time. But not only did he find the challenge irresistable, the idea of taking the easy route positively repelled him.
‘Zak, we haven’t got time for this,’ said Tom angrily. ‘I don’t want to be waiting around at the top for you.’
‘I’ll beat you to the top,’ said Zak assuredly. ‘So don’t you keep me waiting.’
