I exclaim, and then I sing the sequence to increase speed, followed by variations to keep the board away from various obstacles in our low-hanging path. The hoverboard under us lurches onward, and I feel the increased wind-drag against the skin of my face and all of my upper body. Since I am the lead anchor, the wind tears into me first. That’s another thing I didn’t think of—when you’re flying fast, it’s impossible to look straight ahead without squinting, and your eyes dry out. What you really need is protective eyewear such as goggles or sunglasses. Bike and motorcycle riders know this. I bet Atlantean hoverboard riders know this. It is also really hard to sing. Hard to open your mouth even, as the wind fills your lungs immediately. So I keep my face half-turned and try to sing the notes that way. “Can someone look around and tell me who’s behind us?” I cry out. “Two guys on boards—no, make it three. The third’s a girl. They’re all Blues.” “Damn these Blues and their craptastic firearms!”
