"She says there is a reason you cannot know your past."

So that's it. You have a past you can't remember, Jak, and your only key to it is that beat up hunk of metal. Someone, somewhere, knows what happened.

"Look into your heart..."

Yeah, whatever. I lost that a long time ago.

Whoever did this will pay.

"Well, that was helpful," Daxter said. They stood outside the tent, trying not to breathe deeply.

Jak scowled. "Right back where we started. In the heat with no questions answered." He wiped his forehead and looked at his hand in disgust.

"So, you're interested now?"

"Yeah! I'd like to know who messed with my memories." Jak squinted at the old trophy. The cheap holopicture was blinding in the sunlight. "Onin said I can't know my past... and I don't remember anything that happened before the Kid went through the ring. Does that mean someone sabotaged it so I'd be Samos' willing little chore boy in Sandover? Think it was him?"

"Old Greeny? Naw. I think she was talking about your memories before Samos found the Kid wandering the streets."

Jak frowned. "How did I get the medallion-"

"I was right, though," Daxter interrupted smugly. "That guy is your ancestor."

Jak rolled his eyes.

"What pisses me off," continued Daxter. "Is that Stupid Feather Skull wouldn't tell us what was going on. Did you hear how I said 'Stupid?' It was capitalized, cuz he's really really Stupid."

Jak sighed. "Onin wouldn't tell us. Pecker's just the translator."

"Yeah? Well, she was doing a lot more signing than he was translating." Daxter huffed and scurried into Jak's shadow. "Lean to the left- thanks." He looked up. "At least we can start figuring out who that guy is now."

"Oh?"

Daxter grinned. "I, as you must have noticed, am a genius." He bowed. "Using my mighty ottsel brain I have thought of an idea so clever that no one else has thought of it."

"Really?" Jak folded his arms.

"Yes." Daxter cleared his throat. "If you beat this guy's record, then there must be a record of the record somewhere!"

"Idiot!" came Pecker's voice from inside the tent. "I had already thought of that!"

"Then why didn't you say it?" screamed Daxter.

"I was afraid the brilliant magnitude of it would scald your tiny brains forever." The moncow paused. "Hmm. Maybe I should have said it then..."

"You're lying," said Daxter. He puffed out his chest and turned away from the tent. "I'm leaving this sector, and you're all uglier without me."

Jak's comm beeped. He flicked it open and squinted into the screen.

"Jak?" Keira's face was blotched out in the sun. He put his hand over the screen to shade it.

"Yeah?"

"Are you busy?"

Jak glanced at Daxter, who was sauntering away. "Nope."

"Great! I have the collision resistant grills almost done. There's also a prototype booster engine I'd like you to try out." Keira held up a tiny spring. "This is a new idea of mine that I think will really pay off. It's expensive, but with all your recent winnings, the import fees should work out."

Jak nodded. "We'll be there. Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "About the jet board..."

Keira frowned. "Don't tell me you used that paint."

"Um." Jak looked around nervously. "I used that paint."

Keira made a noise and sighed. "Bring it with you." She clicked the comm off.

"Hey, what's eating the ratchet wench?" asked Daxter. He skittered up to his usual place on Jak's shoulder. "Ooo." He danced. "Hot hot hot." He lifted his feet up and down from the metal guard.

"The jet board," Jak said. "I painted it and it all kinda melted off."

"The Precursor flames? Those were cool."

"Yeah, they were."

Jak plodded through the streets in silence. He stopped at his apartment to get the jet board. "I want to see if I can get some of this off," he said. He tossed Daxter a rag.

Daxter helped him smear the remaining house paint everywhere.

"Good as new!" The ottsel grinned in his swirly reflection. "Hey, that spot there looks like old Fern Gully."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad." Jak surveyed the board with a frown. The metal looked tarnished. He sighed. "Keira should be able to fix it. Come on, I have an idea..."

For once, Jak was thankful for his intimate knowledge of Haven's sewer system. He and Daxter wound around the labyrinth and surfaced near the Stadium. "I can't believe it's cooler down there," he said, kicking the access cover shut.

"Still stinks to high Hip Hog," groaned Daxter, fanning his face. "It's so hard to get that smell outta fur." He glanced at the stadium, sizzling in the heat. "I don't wanna walk all the way to the shop. Let's ride!"

Jak shrugged and activated the board. The metal plates shrieked as it unfolded. The house paint had baked on in a disgusting brown color. I hope that's the house paint. Jak jumped on the board. It squealed and shot forward. "Whoa!"

"Yahhhh!" Daxter dug his claws into Jak's shoulder. They clattered up the white stairs and nearly missed the short security columns. "Watch out!"

Jak bent his knees, trying to coax the board into a swerve. It sputtered and died. Daxter screamed and they smashed into a wall.

"...ow..."

"Looks like someone forgot I told him the board doesn't work when it gets overheated."

Jak glanced up blearily. Keira stood against the wall arch, arms folded. Her figure wavered and slowly came into focus. Like many of the city's female slummers, she wore a thin, strapless, low cut white dress with large holes in the midsection. It was a fashion craze; the least amount of clothing one could legally wear and still remain relatively cool in the heat.

"Don't you remember the old A-Grav? The board's response system is based on that." Keira shook her head and bent down, holding out a hand.

"Oooh, hello," said Daxter. "Feelin' snazzier already." He popped up and grinned.

Keira shot him a look and snapped her arms back over her chest.

Jak groaned and pushed himself off the dust. "You look nice," he offered weakly. He picked up the board and wiped dirt from its sad surface.

Keira's hair was dark blue with sweat. "Thanks," she said, pushing it off her neck. She looked away. "I heard about the contamination," she said quietly. "I'm glad you're okay, Jak."

"Yeah, Jak. Glad you're okay."

Keira turned. "C'mon in, I have something to show you. Leave the board there. I think I can fix it." She pointed to the corner and hurried over to a table.

The shop was crammed with tools and pieces of sheet metal. A few scattered fans blew stale air. Behind the sooty curtain, the furnace in the back sent out heat waves. Jak leaned the board up against a wall.

"What're these?" Daxter jumped onto the table and picked up a tiny spring.

"Those are impact coils for the collision resistant grills." Keira held up a contoured piece of metal. "I cut this to fit in the front swoop panels of the race zoomer. There are a bunch of holes drilled into the back." She turned it over. "Where the impact coils go." She took the spring from Daxter's paw and screwed it in. "I think if there are enough of these springs, the damage you get during races will decrease by at least sixty percent."

"Neat," said Daxter. He poked his finger into one of the holes. "Uh oh-" He grimaced and tried to pull his finger out.

"The grill itself is something I've been working on for a while," Keira continued, unaware of Daxter's plight. She bent her head, inspecting the edge of the grill. "It's an alloy of Precursor metal to steel, fifty fifty."

"Interesting," Jak said, skirting around to where Daxter was.

"When you run into something, the collision grill will pass the force of the blow along each impact coil. Hopefully by the time the grill hits the zoomer body, it will have lost the majority of its kinetic energy."

Jak grabbed the ottsel's paw and yanked.

"YEEEOW!"

Keira looked up sharply. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," said Daxter, between his teeth. "Just marveling at your." He shook his paw. "Amazing skills."

"Do I have to tell you not to touch anything?"

"Nope," the ottsel said darkly. "Figured that one out on my own, thank you."

"Good. You could really hurt yourself playing around with these things." Keira put the grill down. "Want to see the booster engines? I already put them on the zoomer and got clearance for a test drive at the track."

"That sounds great." Jak followed Keira out, glancing at the board with a twinge of guilt.

"What a handsome guy," Daxter said, pointing to the posters on the stadium walls. He grinned. "I heard in certain parts of the cities, women are ripping down the half with Jak's face on 'em. Just leaving Orange Lightning up for all to see. Yep. Basking in my photo-enlarged glory."

Jak rolled his eyes.

"Or maybe they're taking the more heroic half home with them." Keira giggled.

"Well." Daxter scoffed. He searched his brain for a different subject. "Did you hear what Ashelin found?"

"What?" Keira turned to face the ottsel.

"Seems Shock Blondie's got a relative around here somewhere."

"Really?" Her eyes were round. "That's wonderful!"

"We went to Onin, but Pecker wouldn't tell us what she was saying." Daxter said, fumbling around the backpack. Jak staggered as his center of gravity changed. "Here it is!" He tossed the trophy out from under his tail.

Keira caught it with both hands. "Where'd she find this?"

"DS 12B," said Jak. "Old slummer homes."

"Wow." Keira inspected it thoroughly. She tapped the chipped plaque. "Isn't this the record you beat?"

"Yep."

"He looks so much like you, Jak," she said softly. "This is your relative?"

Jak hesitated. "Yeah."

"I wonder who."

They continued in silence. Jak felt increasingly uneasy as Keira turned the trophy over and over, searching the dents and swirling Precursor etching for answers he sensed he himself could not see. She finally handed it back when they walked up to the zoomer launch.

"Okay, I want to show you where I put the new boosters." Keira excitedly ran to the racing machine and kneeled. "See, this is where I pulled the old engines out." She pointed to a line of metal sealant.

Daxter scratched his head. "Where are the new ones?"

"Exactly!" Keira's eyes brightened. "They're melded into the mainframe. That's to decrease air resistance and weight. It should also combust the pink racing boosts more efficiently." She glanced from side to side. "I've been really careful to keep this thing hidden. You're going to blow them all away!"

Jak grinned, pushing thoughts of the trophy into a deep corner of his mind. Keira stepped back as he crossed to touch the zoomer's metal skin. The tiny acceleration ring burns had been carefully sanded out. He bent and examined the exhaust system. It had been streamlined and additional filters had been added. Prototype Three was painted on its side.

"You know, you still have to properly name it," Keira said.

"How about The Amnesia!"

Jak shot Daxter a look.

"What?"

Ignoring the ottsel's 'innocent face,' Jak asked, "can I try it out?"

"Sure! The driving mechanisms are all the same as before. I'll time you." Keira turned and ran down the steps.

Once she had safely exited the zoomer launch, Jak jumped on. The trap door opened and the vehicle floated down to the start line. Keira waved from the stands.

"Let's toast some hydrocarbons," said Daxter.

Jak leaned and wrenched the ignition.

Every zoomer, even the cheapest one on the street, had a characteristic drive vibration. Jak was most attuned to Prototype Three's steady tk-tk-tk-tk. It throbbed around his ankles, unconsciously helpful in judging gear shifts, but mostly went unnoticed in the excitement of a race.

The enhanced zoomer shot forward. Daxter dug his nails into Jak's neck. The new boosters practically bellowed, shuddering along the body of the mainframe. SHHKA-SHHKA-SHHKA! Jak's eyes widened and he heard the ottsel's teeth chatter.

Air rushed across the front swoop panels and ripped past the two riders. The perspiration that had soaked Jak's clothes ran cold and he shivered. Clamping his legs tighter to its sides, he frantically steered the zoomer through the Class Three course. Jak couldn't help but grin, though the walls loomed dangerously close. Prototype Three was now, undeniably, the fastest zoomer in Haven.

By the third time around the track, Jak was laughing aloud. Daxter screamed something about insanity, but it was lost on deaf ears. Jak lost count of the laps as the walls melted into each other. Through the powerful drive vibration he could feel the zoomer strive like a live thing. It seemed to exult in the velocity as much as he; almost turning the sharp corners and avoiding the open pits on its own. The old racing thrill burned in him with renewed flame. After what seemed like a split second eternity of acceleration and adrenaline, Jak caught a glimpse of Keira waving.

"Holy Mar!" Keira vaulted over the seats as Jak skidded to a stop. "You did the course in two fifteen!"

"Shhka shhka!" Daxter jumped off Jak's shoulder and walked around loopily. His arms shook as the muscles tried to loosen their panicked knots. "I don't think I can eat for a week!" He fell over and clutched his stomach.

"Hmm," said Jak. He shook his head and unsteadily walked the zoomer back to the starting line. His legs trembled, sending remnants of the drive vibration up his spine. The heat settled back onto his skin. He could finally hear his heart pumping in his ears. "Five laps in over two minutes? Seemed faster than that."

"No!" Keira held up her stop watch and counter. "Seven!"

Jak stared. "What?"

"You went around seven times! That's an average of." She tapped the counter, jumping up and down all the while. "Nineteen seconds per lap!" She grabbed Jak's shoulders. "Don't you see what that means?!"

"Whoa there." Jak took her forearms and tried to hold her steady, but couldn't squash the excitement bubbling up within. "Yeah-"

"The best lap time you ever had was twenty four seconds, and this is your very first time using the new zoomer!" Keira turned and shrieked with joy.

Daxter sat up slightly. "That's not helping my headache."

Stunned, Jak looked down at his hands. I just did a lap in nineteen seconds. I just did a lap in nineteen seconds. There weren't even any boosts on the course.

"You're going to have an average of a minute thirty five!" Keira spun in circles. "A minute thirty five per race, Jak!"

"W-wow," Jak leaned against the zoomer in disbelief. His insides were a frenzied mess of fervor, nausea, and shock.

"No one's ever broken the two minute mark in the stadium races!" Keira's eyes were shining. She ran to Jak and hugged him. He grunted in surprise and flushed slightly. "Oh my gosh! I can't wait for next month!" Tears of happiness ran down her face and stained his civilian clothes. "Oh, sorry!" Embarrassed, she wiped her cheeks and pulled away.

"'Sokay," said Jak, grinning madly. He gripped the zoomer's handles, still unsteady on his feet. Keira fanned her sweating face.

"I say we celebrate immediately," said Daxter from the racing floor. He held up one arm in defiance of dizzying gravity. "Someone pick me up and drag me to the Ottsel."