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“Shut up!” one of them said. “I’ll disqualify both of you if you keep this up.”
    Fred Vale came jogging over. “I’ll take care of this,” he told the other officials. “Go on, get the next heat set up.”
    When everyone had cleared out, Vale congratulated Edwards on a good race, then put an armaround Joe’s shoulders and led him away from the finish area.
    â€œYou and Edwards are doing great. You’re the stars of the Max Games so far, man,” he said. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Whatever you need for your snowmobile, I’ll get it for you before the finals.”
    Joe froze. It didn’t seem fair that the contest organizer would help one athlete. “No thanks,” he said. “I’ll get it fixed myself.”
    â€œWhatever,” Vale said, standing back. “I don’t care how you do it, just keep this rivalry stoked.” He pointed at Joe. “Let me know if you need anything, Joe. It’s yours.”
    Joe watched Vale go over to the camera crew to get some more face time on the local news. Then Joe went back to get his helmet and see about his damaged snowmobile.
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    Earlier Frank and Neal had arrived at the ice-climbing venue. Frank carried his backpack, while Neal hauled a nylon duffel containing his snowboard and boots.
    Metal barriers were set up in a forty-foot square with the ice wall at one end. Two or three large portable bleachers were set up outside each side of the square.
    Only athletes were allowed inside the barriers; after Neal and Frank showed their IDs they went in and sat on a bench.
    Neal gazed up at the fifty-foot wall. The face rose straight up, but the ice was rough and full of cracks, tiny ledges, and bumps, just like those on a real mountain.
    â€œFreaky” was all Neal said.
    â€œIt takes them a week to get it set up,” Frank said, pulling ice axes out of his pack. “Basically, it’s a big set of scaffolding with cooling pipes running through it. They pump water through tubes to the top, and the water runs down the face of the wall slowly and freezes.”
    Frank noticed that Agents Ardis and DuBelle were remaining in the background. Frank couldn’t hear them, but he could see them constantly talking on their radios, directing other agents to move from one place to another.
    Frank continued. “To change the shape of the wall they have different pieces they can attach to it. When the water freezes over them it makes a step or a crack.”
    â€œBut what if one side is easier to climb than the other?”
    â€œEach race is two heats,” Frank said. “You go up one side while your opponent goes up the other. Then you switch sides. Lowest total time wins.”
    As Neal nodded his understanding, two more climbers arrived.
    Jamal threw his bag down next to the bench. “What’s up, Frank?” He gestured to the guy who’dcome in with him. “ ‘The Claw’ here says he’s going to show us how it’s done.”
    Frank instantly recognized Rick “The Claw” Salazar, the top climber on the circuit. He was about Joe’s height, six feet, but lanky and incredibly flexible. He wore his shoulder-length black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a tiny gold ice-ax earring hung from his left ear.
    Frank introduced Neal to Jamal and Rick.
    â€œI thought I recognized you,” Rick said. “Sammy said you were competing in the aerials.”
    â€œYup.”
    Salazar held up his fist and glanced at Jamal. “President’s kid shreds. That’s sick, man—I can’t wait to see it.”
    Jamal nodded. “That’s going to be a wild contest.”
    Frank could tell Neal was enjoying the attention. He pulled his steel crampons from his bag and carefully clipped them to his boots. “Who’s going to test this wall?” he asked.
    â€œI made a few runs last