As they headed back down the mountain, the truck sure-footed and steady, she looked at the triangular treads biting into the Siberian landscape. "Glad you didn't buy that boat instead, Dad."

Elias grinned, feeling the unstoppable pulse of the tracks beneath him. "Me too, kid. Me too."

He shifted into drive. Normally, this much powder would have high-centered the truck in seconds. Instead, the Mattracks hummed. They didn’t cut into the snow; they floated on top of it. He felt the massive surface area grip the ice underneath, turning his commuter truck into a mountain-climbing beast.