He blipped the throttle, watching the needle on the tach jump responsively. A six-grand tach, with the red line plainly marked at fifty-five hundred rpm. The speed was marked in miles per hour, graduated up to 210. He ran the conversion in his head. That was what, three hundred twenty-five klicks? No, more. Probably full of drek. But then he glanced at the big turbo boost gauge, the six-speed stick.’Ninety-one? Wasn’t that before most of the heavy emission-control legislation came down? Maybe it wasn’t drek after all.