Gwen's rocket was a venerable Hepmobile - standard issue for officers of the Civilian Conservation Corps. There was nothing wrong with it - nothing at all, she thought - but she still hated seeing it parked next to Nat's hopped up Auburn racer. So it was just as well he'd already left.
Mostly, her reliable old Hepmobile ferried her back and forth to the Corps' reforestation camps. Jaunts to Iceland weren't in an average day's work - but that's just why this sounded like such a grand idea, wasn't it?
And it was a lovely day for the trip, too - clear skies with balmy temperatures, and her hair flying out behind her in the wind. She soared over the monorail tracks, waving to a couple of kids who were staring goggle-eyed out of the train's windows. She remembered to check the toaster's restraining straps as she swept out over the sea. Perfec
