Francesca Smith rode her hoverbike. Powered by her legs, it transferred her kinetic energy into a superconducting hover generator. Most of her fellow hover cyclists ran on fuel cells and ghost-pedaled.

One day, she was riding along up a steep Martian hill to work within her dome colony’s transportation network and was getting passed by FC cyclists, who would frequently honk at her to get out of the way.

She took a break, and someone stopped by.

“Hey, wow, that’s old school. Leg power? Why would you bother? You’re so slow and sweaty.”

Francesca shook her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes it’s all about the movement, the freedom, and the exercise. Not getting there as fast as possible.”

The FC cyclist shrugged. “Whatever, weirdo!” and sped off.

Francesca muttered to herself, “I sure love riding, but I’m surrounded by assholes.”