Even at the chariot’s unthinkable speed, Sal and I rode for hours. We held on with white fingers as our driver zoomed through Carina, slinging around invisible corners and plummeting downward for no reason. I wondered if these drivers had to pass any tests or if they were each just handed two horses and a whip. Garrett and I had learned to drive on our fifteenth birthday. We had constantly fought over our parents’ old Honda. Garrett had always wanted to practice in the neighborhood, whereas I had been eager to rule the interstate. I missed driving. I didn’t like being a passenger, especially in space. The drivers never listened to me, and they always stopped at all the wrong places, skipping past the interesting sights. Like on our way to Lendon. We saw the most remarkable thing—a rainbow fading in from the blackness. It must have stretched a mile long. I leaned over the side of the chariot to get a better look. We were passing by the rainbow’s yellow streak, and it was boiling, like a slice of sun.
