Saturday August 21st, 2094, 16:20 Moa Tempest, Hawaii
Qualifying
”How’s the ship feeling?” Alistair asked as Bea weaved through the track on her outlap. ”On rails. I don’t know what the lads did to it, but it has no right to be this good at this track.” Bea replied, ”Do we feel like a front row start?” She grinned. ”Always. Got show them!”
The ship seemed to drop an anchor as it came into turn one, gradually accelerating through two and three as the handling and pilot compensated for wanting stability they should’ve had by now were it not for some faulty wiring in a place with a lot of powdered metal at the factory. The Tempesta Climb would be a nightmare to defend at, but required the pilot to position the ship right for the exit, which Bea managed with impeccable precision unlikely to be repeated in the race on her fast lap. The Pira and Kapua Complexes were a literal handful given the amount of work both controls had to do, but the delta stayed well North of Jenny’s time, who was the driver to beat at the time. Coming up on the dam, the orange glow of the lava flow, though far from the circuit, illuminated the scene. It would make for a nasty crash, the repulsors in that direction especially shored up, but still Bea subconsciously strayed to the left side of the circuit, as far away from it as she could get.
Bea realized that too late, forcing her to change sides while under braking.
The ship wobbled under the combination of airflow disturbed by the airbrakes, the rapid direction change and a change in altitude as the surface dipped away under it in the descending turn.
The Neural link gave her the same feeling as Cape Town, the ship’s mag packs no longer able to keep it glued to the surface. Free from the downward pull, the ship nosed up due to the pressure differences caused by the airbrakes, the last thing Bea realized before the link disconnected in anticipation of an impact.
The Carrera Condor ship flew into the repulsors standing upright on its engine, losing most forward momentum almost immediately and falling down onto the basalt. Bea had enough presence of mind keep the ship in the upright orientation, meaning that when the inevitable impact came, it felt like getting rear-ended, getting slammed flat into the backrest. The ship immediately closed fuel shutoff valves when the engine took a hit, the AG unit running out its last seconds of power having just enough power to set down the nose somewhat gently as opposed to simply dropping down.
”You okay?” ”...fuuuck me...” She groaned, counting her teeth with her tongue, opening the canopy and starting to untangle herself from the crash harness. ”I’m fine. So sorry, lads. That one’s on me.” She continued in a dejected tone, disconnecting the breathing liquid hoses from the ship and clambering out, trying to find a colder place to await pickup.
Saturday August 21st, 2094, 17:14 Moa Tempest, Hawaii
New Hilo medical center
”I’m alright.” Bea said in lieu of a greeting, preempting the obvious questions as she emerged from the hospital’s doors, Ava waiting outside with her bike and Bea’s longboard to get them back to the hotel. ”What happened there? Flight Control issues?” The Chilean asked. ”Ran out of talent, that’s what happened.” Bea shrugged bitterly before a smile reappeared on her face as she slapped Ava’s shoulder, ”Time for you to remind the suits they forgot to renew the other driver.” “Good. I was ready to remind you I did just fine if you tried to blame the ship.” Ava chuckled as the got going, ”In a way I envy you. You get to fight with Flo tomorrow.” ”True. If I can’t get back up into points, something’s seriously wrong with me.” They passed a gaggle of people wearing various Formula AG merch, a round of greetings and cheers erupting when they noticed the pair, a “Welcome home, island girl!” clearly heard among the crowd. ”You’ve got the islands confused!” Bea called back with as natural a smile as she could force herself into, ”Mine still has temples of my faith!” ”Temples to your faith?” Ava raised an eyebrow once they passed. ”Goodwood, Oulton Park, Silverstone, Donington Park…” Ava laughed, the chuckles dying out when she saw Bea’s face ”They are wearing you down. Never thought I’d see the day. I heard how you shut down Aurora.” ”I will start dunking people in the sea if they don’t stop painting me into pictures I don’t belong in…” The Brit grumbled. ”Paint your own tomorrow to shut them up. The race is a blank canvas.” Ava shrugged. ”Deep. You’ve been practicing for the interviews, haven’t you?” ”I had to, in case the doctors wanted to keep you.” ”Pffff, please. I’d tie the bedsheets together and check myself out the window before I leave you to Aurora’s mercy.” Bea laughed, once again genuinely. ”There we go, she’s back.” Ava smiled, ”Unless, of course, doing well will yield more headlines about your second home crowd spurring you on…” ”That’s it, come here. We’re taking a detour to the beach!” Bea laughed through faux indignation, pointing toward the ocean to echo her earlier comment, the rest of the way to the hotel spent in discussion as to whether or not Bea could get Ava in the water against the latter’s will.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 12: Hot Like Lava
”Bea, that looked like a gutting crash for you! Starting at the back tomorrow, what's your approach to making up?”
”Whatever I did back there?” Bea pointed behind herself with her thumb, the backdrop being the place of her crash by chance. ”Not that.” She chuckled. ”And in other shocking news: Fish found in water. I know.” Actually, in some places that would be shocking news. ”We had a few races way above our level, smarter people than me say it’s inevitable that the bad ones come here and there. Something about statistics and Bell curves. Still, really gutted for the team, I just shot our chances at beating Zygon in the foot because I’m stupid. We’ll have to push even harder to make it happen now. As for my plan? Do what I usually do: Claw my way up to where I have no business being and scare half the people I pass on the way there.” She grinned, ”We have some backmarkers to work through tomorrow. On the plus side, I might get to fight with Flo, that’s something I think all of us have on the wishlist. Like I said in Africa: Think positive.”
Bea Would I be joking about it if someone wasn’t? Come on, you know me better than that.
Kofi Guys you're out here committing violations in chat
Bea That’s only a problem if someone snitches. 😛
Wedge My mixtape be like: [reposted picture of lab on fire]
Bea …wow. 😀
Ben Hale Why have I been told to bring trunks to Hawaii? What shit is Delta Hyper planning?
Jen Lowry I'm gonna say diving or surfing. I'm packing for both.
Bea You think that’s weird, but why am I getting mails from the production team asking if I have a minibus license?
Max Yeah, I got that too.
Jen Lowry Do you?
Max No.
Jen Lowry Yea, me neither.
Bea It’s not the license that drives… 😛 But I got it covered.
Ava Villarosa How and why do you have that?
Bea I had provisional licenses when I was rallying, because you need to drive the cars on public roads between stages. But since that was before I could legally drink, some of my older friends actually paid me to get the minibus license too so I could be their DD.
Amy Stirling Full of surprises.
Astrid No shit 😀
Bea And when I turned 18 I renewed them all to full ones because renewing is easier than getting them again if they expire. Never know when they might be handy.
Ben Hale That’s actually…
Ben Hale Fuck, that’s a point.
Bea I don’t know why you all act like I’m incapable of forethought?
Ava Villarosa Because we know you. 😛
Bea …you’re walking. 😀
Jen Lowry Bea out here rated to drive lorries.
Bea You jest, but yes. I raced those too.
Tuesday 10/08 08:28 Moneybags :p [Batt: 100%]
———— Today ————
Dad: @Bea I just got off the phone with Alonso, how long have you known? Eva: What have you done? Dad: Stopped costing your future company money, starting next year. Eva: They gave you a new contract?! > Got it in one! Pablo told me after Spa, but first called about talking in private even before it. [‘Eva’ reacted with 🍾] Eva: Alright, I’m just looking at the transcript of the call, this… Wow. > How am I? Eva: Tolerable, for a younger sibling. 😛 [You reacted with 😀] Dad: No longer racing on borrowed time and money. Never doubted the day, but still, congratulations. Eva: All jokes aside, congratulations. This makes all our lives easier. > Cheers, sis. Consider this an early wedding gift to your corporate marriage. 😛 Eva: …I’m ignoring that. > I wish you could have seen Pablo’s face when he was telling me. He thought this would be some sort of hard pill to swallow, how if they chose to go with someone else you and I would all go elsewhere. Dad: So they let you write half the contract to sweeten the deal for you completely for nothing? > Yep! 😀 [‘Dad’ and ‘Eva’ reacted with 😀] Eva: And not even the whole year in. You don’t do half measures, do you? > Nope. Dad: Unless it comes to cleaning her room. > Hey, if it’s used often, it stays out. [‘Eva’ reacted with 👍]
Thursday August 19th, 2094, 05:00 Waimamu Valley, Hawaii
Inside the follow vehicle
”Maybe we should’ve hired a better van?” The Delta Hyper intern riding shotgun in the follow vehicle asked the driver. “They banned vehicle imports decades ago, that shitbox was grandfathered in. Was probably almost new when the ban went through. Plus we put cameras inside, this will make for good footage.” The Delta staff member driving explained, “But you could’ve listed someone else as the driver, not Ward.” He noted as the van with the drivers was now almost 30 meters farther ahead then when they pulled onto the trail and still gaining on them. “The rental company demanded a license scan before they made the reservation and she was the only one who had a minibus license who answered in the time I had allocated to it.” The intern defended his actions. There was a brief silence from the driver’s seat. “That’s a seven seater.” The staff member said, giving the intern a few seconds to catch onto his mistake before giving up. “You don’t need a minibus license for those even in Europe, nevermind in the Federated States.” “...crap…” Was all the intern managed as he saw the van ahead rocking on its suspension. “And since she’s the only driver listed on the rental contract, we’ll get fined if we let anyone else drive them back.” “Crap indeed.” The driver agreed.
Thursday August 19th, 2094, 05:00 Waimamu Valley, Hawaii
Inside the shitbox
"Bea, slow the fuck down! We're not on track, we're in a shitbox van!" Harrison yelped.
”Brake, brake, hairpin right cut, 30 jump maybe. Do we try?” Was Bea’s reply to Harrison’s plea, several “No!”s heard around her answered by her amused giggling and a slight application of the brakes. This was worth getting up stupid early for. She would’ve tried the handbrake in the hairpins if the van wasn’t this narrow, making it likely to tip over. ”Idon’t know what you’re panicking about, I haven’t gone above 70 klicks per hour yet. And this is actually safer than a rally stage, here you don’t have the braindead members of the fanbase standing where they shouldn- Wait, Paul, another concussion?”
"Relax, she's only crashed on gravel.....actually, never mind!"
Jenny began to reply to Harrison before changing her mind. ”If you’re not crashing, you’re not racing. And- Ho, pothole!” Bea shrugged before wrenching the van violently to the side, the vehicle rocking left to right in the aftermath of the maneuver. ”What, we got a broken sway bar or something…? Thought that was a shadow for a sec. Anyway, where was I? Right, where did you get that nonsense? I had moments across all surfaces. Gravel, tarmac, snow, ice, once on a field.” ”I think by the time you’re in a fucking field that’s already a crash, don’t you?” Ben asked. Another crest, the van rocking back and forth, ”And the springs on this thing, Christ… No, getting onto that field I was still mostly in control, just a bit wide. Now the drainage ditch in the field that I didn’t see because of the tall grass, that one I have no excuse for. Do you want to know how you make a car do a front flip? That’s how.” She shared casually with a cheerful expression.
The ride finally over - well, at least for now, they’d still have to drive back and Bea kept the keys - she parked the van where one of the Delta Hyper crew members indicated, turning around to the passengers. ”Terminus, please disembark and have a pleasant day. Kais, you awake back there?” She jumped out of the van, immediately bending under and checking the rear sway bar, finding to her dismay that it wasn’t broken. ”Hmm. Just shite, then...” She muttered to herself disappointedly before running to catch up to the rest of the drivers.
Bea hadn’t even bothered answering Rosie’s questions about affinity for water. For one, she knew the Delta Hyper presenters were up to speed on the drivers’ history; and two, she spent the entire window during which the other drivers were answering preoccupied by a long yawn.
The thing that surprised her a little was that Jenny had emerged out of the changing room almost at the same time as she did. ”That was quick.” ”It’s still fresh in my mind from our trip. Plus the neoprene is so much easier to put on over this,” She lifted up one of her still-recent prosthetics, ”it slides a lot easier over clearcoat than skin.” ”Just don’t get attacked by the fishies again.” Bea teased as they started stretching.
What didn’t surprise her was just how often she found herself in the water rather than on the board. Very much in the same boat as Max, as as despite being snowboarders, the slope doesn’t kick your board from below.
Thursday August 19th, 2094, 13:00 New Hilo, Hawaii
Euskal Herriko Parkea
The Carrera Condor fan zone was set up in the Basque Country Park, a large grassy area roughly in the shape of its namesake with miniatures of its prominent natural features in their respective places. A tent city featuring a catering tent serving South American cuisine, from whole meals to sampling boards across the whole continent; an audtorium for organized QnA panels with the drivers or other team figures; a few dozen sims of the team’s 2094 ship as it was in Auckland, nowhere near enough to keep the waiting times down, manned by Alex Valle throughout most of the weekend; and more.
Off to one side of the zone, some fifty-odd parasols were set up, some with easels, some with drawing tables and others with computers loaded with a wide variety of art programs. Even until the late hours of the evening, Bea could be found darting between them whenever the schedule didn’t require her to be somewhere else, helping people with their project or just simply chatting about this or that. Despite her usual energy levels and full length leg cybernetics, she could swear her feet hurt in the evening after that.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 12: Hot Like Lava
”Welcome back to Delta Hyper, Bea. We know you never spent time here, but does it feel like a strange return-”
”No. Next question.” Bea interrupted curtly, her smile melting away into a blank poker face as soon as she clocked where the question was going.
”What would you say about your experiences in Hawaii so far, nearly at the antipode to where you live, and how does it compare to London?”
”Cleaner, both city and the sea, with better views; but boring and communication feels like having an Italian race engineer. And you worry about lava floods instead of Thames floods. Hard pass. The fans here are great, though. And I mean Silverstone-level great.” A smile returned with steering the conversation to a more pleasant topic, ”I had a chat about it with Max and Hamid and they both agreed: Here, everyone feels like it’s their home race with how passionate the people here are about the sport, despite being on the other side of the world as you noted.”
It didn’t even feel like she passed Dorian as much as he seemed to fall back past her, the whole race just sort of going by as if everyone was just there to get it over with and go home, and at one point she found herself asking Alistair if he was still awake, the latter joking that he was going to make a snack run since he had nothing to do past the 20 minute mark. Poor Ben’s crash was the only thing of note. Trying to straight line Schwedenkreuz was certainly an unconventional racing line for obvious reasons, Bea unable to prevent herself from thinking ’Well I’m glad he didn’t do that on Thursday.’ after Alistair confirmed that he was alright, unfortunately thinking ‘loud’ enough to be picked up by the throat mics, the broadcast director obviously playing it on the live coverage because they had little else to keep the fans awake with.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 11: The Green Hell
”Bea, that seemed like a very controlled race from you, sitting in P5 nearly the entire second half of the race unchallenged. Are we seeing a matured, controlled side to you?”
”Uhhh, no, you saw a bored side to me.” Bea shook her head, ”Not that I’m complaining about the result, but it was one of those races you forget quickly. Truly one of the races ever, as they say.” She joked, inwardly happy she didn’t have to hold back Paul for the whole 45 minutes like she did in Belgium. At Spa, that was fun. Here, it would be a lot less so given the error margins. The fact that the two races were back to back as opposed to the usual 14 days apart likely also played a part. ”I honestly feel a bit bad for people who bought tickets to this, because nothing happened. Should we stay a day longer and try a 15 minute shootout along the GP circuit to give them at least something?” She offered half heartedly. ”And I’m always in control, thank you very much. Don’t bring up Cape Town, that doesn’t count.” The mischievous grin returned, followed by a slide show of quick cuts to some of Bea’s most prominent crashes - A rally car wrapped around a tree with her climbing out the passenger side door and Gazza facepalming off to the side. A rally truck drifting wide and clipping a bollard with its back, causing it to spin around its vertical axis three times before coming to a rest on its side. A Junior series ship losing the AG unit at Spa and sliding down the Kemmel straight and a few more, Aurora clearly having mentioned at least some of them during it, unheard by the audience. ”...those were for style points?” Bea offered with a chuckle.
Carrera Condor Formula AG Team @CarreraCondorFA: "We are excited to announce that Bea Ward (@MadBea) has signed a four year contract extension, continuing our journey together until 2098!
Between securing the first win in our team’s history at Spa, her infectious enthusiasm, a new set of eyes to view our ship through and bringing scores of new fans to our doorstep, Bea has been one of the forces behind our recent rise, and with what’s coming, we’ll continue rising.
The path ahead is bright and we look forward to four more years of chasing the highest of highs and writing history together.
In conjunction with this, we are proud to announce Bea’s ‘Fans First’ initiative. From the 2095 season onward, Carrera Condor will be using a portion of our income for community outreach including sim racing events for unique prizes, internships at the team or select suppliers and workshops which will let you live a day in the shoes (or gloves) of a Formula AG team member, from mechanics through strategy team to race engineers. Follow our socials or subscribe to the Fans First newsletter on our website so you don’t miss anything!”
#FansFirst #CarreraCondorFA #FormulaAG #AGRacing
MadBea: DISCLAIMER, because I know this will crop up: The workshop is NOT a job application, it’s a simplified (more here, less there) fan experience. However, if you’re someone who would like to join the team, our suppliers or apply for an internship, it will be a good place to ask questions face to face. If you have questions about the initiative, use the email address listed on the website. The admin team will get back to you as soon as they can as well as use it to build an FAQ section. Some things may yet change, we’re still working on it. Shel1: An extension in FA, team on the rise, a Le Mans tease earlier. She’s gunning for a triple crown early. 👑👑👑 MadBea: A girl can dream. Darkstar69: Was really hoping she’d go back to a real sport. Finnish back roads are calling your name! Oh, well, still a fun watch even with all the bullshit. Xinny: Wonder what kind of prizes they mean. AndesAG: Don’t expect to become the next Jann Mardenborough. MadBea: Yet… Xinny: Oh, good, I don’t need a crash like that in my life. 😛 Mate0: First she displaces a home pilot and now gets her contract renewed before the other South American one. I get the results, but it’s still hard to swallow. MadBea: I wouldn’t worry about Ava. A condor needs two wings to fly. TruckerTim: Not on track you don’t have to… Briat77: Oh, great, four more years of this twerp… User420: Amy would’ve had her in Spa if Paul wasn’t in the way. MadBea: Big “My WiFi lagged!” energy from this comment. 😛 MissedApex: At first I was excited about the Fans First thing because I thought it might feature ride alongs, but after watching the Delta Hyper episode… TruckerTim: DH had to postpone the tandem ride questions until after Jamie got booted, they couldn’t risk giving him a passenger. Cats4Life: Stoooop, he’s already dead! 😀
Pilots’ Group Chat
[Image of a burned-out design lab at the Carrera Condor factory.] Bea Alright, which one of you did that? @Paul? @Cassie Neves? 😛
”Booo, I’m telling Flo!” Bea jeered in jest, her laughter cut short by the next corner.
”Schnitzel! Okay, back over Flugplatz in a bit!”
”What kind?” ”I like pork neck the most, but between the food plan and my girlfriend hating the connective tissue it’s a rare treat.” ”Fried or oven-roasted?” ”Fried, of course, that’s what schnitzel is. Who roasts schnitzels?” ”It’s too greasy when you f- fuuuck me sideways and call me Susan- fry it Same with potato chips.” SHe knew Flugplatz was coming and it still caught her out. ”You roast potato ch-” Ben simply shook his head with visible disappointment.
”Uhh, honestly, sometimes whether I've left....ooo that's late”
”Yep, okay, I did that, you get that one for free.” She lamented through gritted teeth, bracing her arms against the sides of the canopy.
”Couple, I'd ship Cassie and Harrison, I mean where there's smoke there's fire!”
”Not Cassie and Dorian then?” ”Too much fire, that’s a blast furnace.” ”Jamie and Kais?” ”That’s not a couple, that’s homicide.”
”Uhhh, race on Mars, definitely, I love space so no brainer!”
”What made you like space?” ”Every star I see is a mystery, maybe one day an adventure. Down here, we’re on the top rung, for better or worse. But when I look out of a porthole up there, I feel small and humble again.” ”Try being 162 centimeters, theeeeeen- Bloooody Hell! You won’t need space to feel small.”
”Yeah, okay, that was fun! You alright?” Ben smiled, opening the canopy and getting a glance at a no doubt terrified Bea.
”I’m good…” She squeaked, both hands white-knuckling the crash harness since the Little Carousel.
Saturday August 7th, 2094, 15:42 Nürburg, Germany
Qualifying
Bea managed to wrestle the ship through the woods in a satisfactory manner, trying not to think of Thursday’s Delta Hyper shoot too much during her hot lap but finding herself wishing she had that brakeless, spin-happy, tandem-seated tub in certain sections where high stability was required. On paper, they should’ve burned on this track - okay maybe not burned, Amy did that - but they should not have been this high up while the likes of MMR or Al-Saqr seemed to struggle despite the track suiting them better. Their speed and handling must have compensated something fierce to keep them this high up despite still having some of the worst stability rating on the grid. ”Fantastic result, Bea! That’s P6.” Alistair called out happily when she returned from the showers, ”Ava’s in P9. You drove the bolts off the ships today.” ”That’s right. Everyone else didn’t have a shite day, we are overperforming.” She returned the offered fist bump with a toothy grin. ”Now just to survive tomorrow.” ”We survived the night after Spa, we’ll survive anything.” ”So you’re saying I should stop paying your tabs?” She cocked an eyebrow. A nearby mechanic, bent down under the ship, sprang upright. ”No! No, he’s shutting up now.” He clamped his hand over Alistair’s mouth, chuckles spreading though the garage.
Thursday August 5th, 2094, 15:00 Nürburg, Germany
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 11: The Green Hell
”What would you say is the hardest thing for you about racing in Formula AG?”
”I would say the dieting, but that’s sports in general.” She thought for a few seconds. Beatrix Ward, actually paused to think. What was that, third time in the year? ”I honestly can’t give you one thing unique to AG racing. There’s things about this level of sports in general, things about racing, as much as I love it it’s not without its drawbacks, and things shared among all circuit racing, but nothing specific to AG racing comes to mind.” There was one thing she could name, but it didn’t seem prudent to do so.
“Really, not one? How about something that’s true for AG racing compared to anything else you’ve done in your career?”
”I miss the close relationship with the co-driver.” She fired off without a second thought, ”Yes, we work closely with the race engineer a lot, but it’s not the same. If the race engineer is your right hand, the co-driver is your left brain hemisphere.”
Double Stint @DoubleStintPodcast: [A picture of Ingrid and Gerhard Kahler, both with wide smiles and each holding a painting. Between them stands Bea, an arm around each of their shoulders.] "She did it, guys. @MadBea actually did it!”
MadBea: A promise made, a promise kept. Father didn’t raise no liars. CloroxEnjoyer: Speedrunning the ‘best guest ever’ championship I see. MadBea: You bet! Hearts and minds. 😛 ForzaGl0ria: More PR stunts. 👎 Cats4Life: How does she do it? How is she this happy and friendly all the time? SixTimesSeven: It’s often said that Paul’s a Golden Retriever. Well Bea’s a Rottweiler: No brain cells but anger and care. MadBea: …Never have I been so offended by something I agree so much with. GalwayGirl: I can already hear the furry artists getting busy. MadBea: You had to ruin it, didn’t you? 😀 Sol_de_Mayo: When do I get a free painting after not making the cut in a contest? AndesAG: When you become interesting to the artist. 😀 MadBea: That’s rich coming from someone who got her third painting this summer. Sol_de_Mayo: That’s fair.
Purna’s hug was completely unexpected and Ebrima’s response was gloriously awkward. The mix of stoicism and surprise on his face, the awkwardly stilted shoulder pat of a man attempting to express a positive emotion toward something else than an Airfix product for the first time in two decades, not helped by the space suit’s movement restrictions, the Nepali man’s exit leaving the confused-looking Cameroonian to briefly ponder just what the fuck just happened before deciding it was a question for later and going back to what he was doing before, catching a glimpse of Skye observing the exchange and returning a silent ‘You saw nothing.’ look.
The Final Forntier
Fortunately, it appeared he was among those who didn’t suffer kinetosis in microgravity. For once being a freak of nature was paying off. The theory of it wasn’t hard, but how his brain would process the movement once outside the ship and bouncing in the wrong direction meant uncontrolled sailing off into the unknown was not an ignorable variable, even though the MMU put his mind at ease about it.
What bothered him a lot more was the absolute lack of armor. One and done, like back in Africa. Except he was a good deal shorter and 15 years and several wounds younger back then.
As the ship parked where it needed to be and everyone started getting in gear, Ebrima grabbed a roll of vacuum tape meant to seal small breaches in suits, wrapped a length of it around his left arm and passed it off to the next person. ”Identifiers.” He explained, ”Everyone else likely has the same space suits we do.” A low tech solution, yes, but it worked in the jungles of Africa, the Far East and South America. It would work in outer space, too. ”If we get separated, please identify yourself quickly and conclusively after we regroup.” He turned to Skye, ”It would be a shame to shoot you by accident after all the effort I put into not having to do that.”
Seal: check. MMU: Check. Comms: Check. ”Let’s take the trash out.”
”Yes?” Bea answered the knock at the door, perhaps unwisely without asking who it was, leading to hurriedly swinging her feet off the table when the team’s CEO, Pablo Asturia, entered the trailer. ”Good evening. Our hero of the hour. How come you’re still not celebrating?” He greeted her with a smile, his bodyguards remaining outside. ”Just got done with media for the day.” She was fresh off recording the auction announcement, ”Waiting for the mechanics to wrap up before we go give some bar owner a reason to stay in business. Tea?” She explained, pointing to the tea pot on her table. ”Yes, thank you. I was ready to postpone our talk to next week in case I couldn’t catch you before the celebrations begin.” ”I kept you in mind. Or, rather, in my calendar, that’s more reliable.” She half-joked as she poured him a cup, ”What’s the matter? The voicemail was slightly ominous, going behind León’s back.” ”Yes, I wanted to expedite this matter.” He explained, taken aback by the amount of sugar in the beverage. ”León would have had to go through me anyway. Like I said in the voicemail, I believe you’re the key to moving forward. You continue to impress on track and your handling of media surpasses some more experienced pilots even without much media training. We are a team reborn, and we need a strong face to go with our performance. I, and several others on the board, believe you are the right candidate to be that face. This includes a four year contract with revised conditions, pending amendments from your side.”
The trailer spun a little. Thirteen months ago, she was signing a one year contract with a struggling backmarker that saw her more as a pile of money and tech; and now she was being offered to lead a top-of-the-midfield outfit and could dictate her terms to a degree. ”I think I did a good job winning over the Argentinian crowd, but they will see this as a slap in the face.” She brought up the first problem that jumped out at her. ”The mere fact that you’re extending my contract while Ava’s is still in the air will stir people up.” ”Which you’ll handle like you’ve already done.” Pablo dismissed it with a wave of his hand, ”Keep driving like you are and they will forget any flag.” ”Would you like to see the pre-season hate mail?” She laughed, ”Fun reading, if anatomically impossible.” ”See, you’re already shrugging it off. As much as I was initially worried about you not taking things seriously, it seems to be working.” Pablo shrugged, passing her a tablet he had brought with him. ”Have a read through the first draft.” ”This is…” She trailed off, eyes widening as she read. Less stringent schedule, decision making power over non-grandfathered sponsorships, a hand in livery design, a major raise and provisions for more benefits… ”This is too good, where’s the catch?” She looked up. This. This is where it comes. More extensive neural mods, advanced neural link, removing safeguards. She signs this, and she’s a braindead husk or a brain in a jar mounted under the ship’s seat before the regs change. ”Your ties to Pridwen Solutions.” Bea bristled, the issue apparently coming from an entirely different direction. ”The regulation change looms large on the horizon. León has pulled off an outstanding move pulling Felix to us, but we must now begin looking into the future beyond the immediate season. That may include equipment from suppliers in competition with Pridwen Solutions if their products are superior.” ”So you want to move Pridwen from the role of sponsor to the role of a supplier, contingent on outperforming any other bidders for that contract?” She parsed his words into plain English, the churning pit in her stomach levelling out again. It could still be preparing the ground for that, but this she could still work with. ”Yes.” He nodded to be met with an outburst of laughter from Bea, who simply couldn’t keep a straight face seeing Pablo actually stressed over a non-issue that he perceived to be an issue. ”I apologize.” She managed to stammer out between breaths, having had to work hard to keep it at a normal ‘entertained laughter’ level as opposed to the unhinged cackle of someone who just avoided a real or perceived existential threat. ”This sponsorship was only a carrot to incentivize teams to consider me for the seat. Dad is giving us technology and staff for free and it’s one Hell of a money sink for the company. And you’re now telling me that Pridwen - currently losing money on this - either gets paid or returns to net zero, meanwhile I no longer have to worry about my job and hobby potentially driving a wedge between me and my father and/or sister? And we get to choose better equipment, if such exists, more easily? Nobody’s losing here, what are you worried about?” ”I wasn’t aware Pridwen was at a loss working with us. Why wasn’t this communicated?” ”Pridwen’s problem, not yours. Dad knew what he was signing up for.” Bea shrugged, ”You sitting here offering me a full-blooded, multi-year contract is proof that he once again judged a gamble correctly.” And on top of all of the contract goodness, Bea was internally giddy with joy. Her dad believed in her, put things on the line for her and she didn’t let him down. ”You’ll also have to speak to him about it, but I doubt he’ll object. Of course, it would tear up my heart to have to race with Fitzroy Orbital engines,” She grinned, ”But performance is performance.” ‘Like they’d ever outperform a PS product.’ She almost added. ”Do we have an agreement, then?” ”You have a tentative ‘yes’ as-is.” She raised her cup for a toast, ”I’ll get back to you with details during the week. Sign at the factory after Nürenberg?” ”Yes, but we can announce it at the German AGP. Ride the high of Spa.”
Brussels, Belgium
The Mulder Foundation Gala
Bea arrived to the Gala in style, her arrival heralded by the snarl of a rented 2078 Lamborghini Cabrera LP 750-4 Tecnica. She wore the same gown she’d worn in Monaco - reusing instead of being wasteful, it definitely didn’t have anything to do with being out of touch with and thoroughly disinterested in fashion trends, instead wearing what she liked as opposed to what was the most flashy and designed by the current hit designer. Seriously, what was Sable Vortex’ collar? Despite making a point of not engaging with representatives of any of the gossip and celebrity magazines, they’d probably drag her through the mud anyway, reinforcing her belief that they were a plague on honest journalism. What else was new?
She instead spent her time with people who showed genuine interest in the the Foundation and the sport, one photographer catching her during a 15 minute discussion about current trends in automotive design with a pair of valets and a waiter, a heated but friendly two-v-two debate on the merits of voice and neural controls versus physical buttons, knobs and switches. Bea also made sure to approach Paul’s mother to offer her time if she wanted to cooperate further to advertise for the Foundation or do some direct work with any of the art programmes, that being a topic close to her heart.
Stavelot, Belgium
Villa De Fleurs
Paul’s dinner at the Villa had been a bit of good luck for Bea. She had a hotel for the race secured through the team, but it wasn’t worth the time to go back to England or Argentina between these two races, packed closely together as they were, so this sorted out her stay in Belgium for the next few days nicely before she’d make the drive to Adenau, where Carrera Condor would be staying over the Nürburgring AGP weekend.
After coming back from the Gala, she checked that her ten percent commission had come through and immediately sent it back as a donation to the Foundation. Then she sat on the balcony and thought. She’d had an idea brewing in her head for a few months now, but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate or if it would end up being perceived as insensitive. With a final drum of her fingers on the balcony rail, she sprang out of her seat. She never thought things through, why start now? Her travel easel appeared on the balcony, a canvas on a PLA frame on it. The dress came off, replaced with a hoodie and a pair of sweats that she wouldn’t be too sad about reclassifying from ‘clothing’ to ‘rag’ and within a minute, she was in the zone, the job finished when the Sun sat high in the sky and the sounds of lunch being served poured out of the dining hall.
The package would arrive at the Valkyrie headquarters a few days later, mailed from the hotel and addressed to Paul directly, a simple note on the box betraying the sender even without reading the return address.
Let’s do that again soon. :p
Inside, a 40x60 centimeter vertical oil-on-canvas painting with a carbon fiber frame with details painted in the colors of Auldrick’s ship - the livery he scored his first victory in. In the dead center of the lower half, painted in minute detail under a magnifying glass with micro brushes, was Paul’s ship mid-overtake, his highlight reel pass that almost scored him P1. Behind him another ship, clearly Bea’s to anyone who saw the race, but in the painting more of a vague outline of it without any defining features as it wasn’t important for the piece, the background likewise unfocused, yet clear enough to recognize the track and corner.
Up above, storm clouds swirled above the track, everywhere except in the painting’s top left corner, where the Sun shone bright through a break in the cloud cover about the size of a dinner plate, straight onto Paul’s ship. At least at first sight. It wouldn’t be until a closer look that an outline hidden in the broken clouds revealed the face of Auldrick Mulder, smiling down upon the scene.
Monday 02/08 14:12 ASTURIA [Batt: 99%]
———— Monday - 26/07/2094 ———— Missed call (Tap to play voicemail)
> We’ll speak after the race, then.
———— Today ————
> On top of what’s already in the draft, I get to veto any medical procedures including pilot mods for myself, a fixed percentage of the sponsorship income goes to community outreach every year (I’ve had some ideas for a while, I’ll give you the details in person) and whether or not Ava stays for the remainder of these regulations is up to her. > I won’t be staying for the race, does Friday after practice work for you? > Friday it is. Give me a time and place when you know. > Very well.
Thursday August 5th, 2094, 15:00 Nürburg, Germany
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 11: The Green Hell
Back again in her dry suit, unworn since her outing to Pikes Peak, and back to her old junior series helmet. She always relished every opportunity to bring it back out because it was her favorite design of hers, as much as she worried about what lay ahead. She could only hope she wasn’t about to get paired up with some sadist. Sweet Jesus, not Kais…
”Ben, you’re with Beatrix…”
Oh, thank God.
”Right. Full disclosure Bea, I'm absolutely shit at being a passenger.”
”They’ll probably swap us around after this, so: What I do to you, you do to me?” She offered him a hand with a friendly smile after checking his harness was done up correctly, holding final responsibility for the passenger’s safety as the driver. ”Deal!” Ben shook her hand.
Bea took full advantage of the outlap to get used to how the ship handled, gradually speeding up until she was putting it through its paces by the third sector. ”Okay, this thing refuses to slow down and it actually oversteers. Think I can drift it?” There was a resounding ”No!” from the back seat. ”You don’t think I can?” Bea feigned offense, ”I’ll prove it, watch.” ”No, that’s not what I meant! I meant no, don’t do it.” Ben’s protests continued, answered by a gleeful cackle from the forward cockpit and a turn taken normally. ”Christ on a fucking bike...” ”A deal’s a deal. Get your questions ready, hotlap starting…” She answered and rammed the throttle open, ”Now!”
”Who's your ido- Jesus Christ. Your idol in Formula AG, past or preseEEEEEEnt?” Turn one was upon them faster than Ben thought it would be. ”Nobody.” She answered the first question briefly, then deciding to poke a little, ”My idols come from a higher form of motorsport.” The Delta Hyper camera capturing her face would note a shit-eating grin, fully knowing that comment would stir a hornet’s nest.
”Schnitzel or Strudel?” ”Strudel.” The sweet option a clear answer to anyone who knew her. ”Flugplatz, cleared for takeoff!” She called as she throttled up and the ship briefly left its usual altitude above the surface in a short jump. ”WhaAAAat filling?” Ben’s voice jumped, caught out by the launch. ”Pears, any other fruit, quark, walnuts and poppyseed. In that order.”
”Do you think. About anything- God above! Else while racing?” ”Depends on the situation. Sometimes- Oh, birdie!” She said right before a braking point, turning her head to look at the nonexistent bird while keeping her eyes fixed on the track. Ben could of course only see the former, not the latter, the sound he made confirming he bought into the illusion before her snickering let him know what’s up. ”You will eat that in two laps’ time!” He half yelled, half laughed.
”Who in the paddock would you ship as a couple?” ”Didn’t they ask this in Japan already?” ”Before my time.” ”I don’t know. Paul goes with anyone, that’s a safe answer- Oh, this is a hairpin, I forgot.” ”WHAT?” ”I’m just pulling your leg.” ”Oh, you’ll get it when we swap, just wait…”
”Best BBQ host?” ”León Alonso.” She fired off without hesitation as Ben was being squashed to the right side of the cockpit by the Carousel. ”Ava wasn’t joking with the Asado.”
”What's your dream historic car, money no object?” ”Fun car or a daily driver?” ”Fun car.” ”How long do you think it will take before Hamid can ask the next question after this one?” Bea laughed in reference to Paul’s interest in cars. ”He probably already has his dream car, so not long.” Ben countered. ”Fair. He has all of our dream cars, doesn’t he?” ”Yep.” ”Prodrive Hunter. It’s the blueprint for Rally5 to Rally3 cars since the 2040s.” ”I thought you’d want the original Quattro?” ”Nope, the kit car I have looks the same but handles better. I’d say it has a better engine too, but I don’t want to wake up to a cylinder head on my pillow courtesy of the inline five mafia.” She laughed. ”Do not speak ill of the straight five, heretic.” Ben laughed along, himself a member of said engine’s ‘fanclub’. ”I didn’t say it was bad, I said there are better options!” ”Better how, it’s literal perfection.” ”Flat engines allow for a lower center of gravity, boxers have better balance and they are easier to mount longitudinally because they’re shorter.” ”Two cylinder heads, head gaskets go quick, they have lubrication issues when sitting for too long and they get worse mileage.” ”If you’re worrying about mileage in a sports car you’re doing it wrong, and if you let a car like that sit for long, you have a user issue.” Ben took a breath to continue the friendly argument, but a hard brake forced the air right back out of his lungs, ending it for now.
”What would you prefer, a race on Mars or at the bottom of the ocean?” ”I can only get one?” ”Apparentlyyyyyy! Fuck, that barrier was close!” ”Five point four seven meters according to the neural link. Mars, then. We already have the Barrier Reef AGP. If you go below 200 meters below the surface the water will get pitch black anyway. Racing up and down Olympus Mons or around Valis Marineris sounds like fun.”
”Things that people might not know about you?” ”Things that people don’t know about me are things that people don’t know about me because I don’t want people to know those things about me.” She said nonchalantly as they tore along the Döttinger Höhe straight, ”But I suppose what will come out soon is that I will be an even worse passenger than you.” ”How? Don’t you skydive and race up a mountain with no guardrails and whatnot for fun?” ”Even if my parachute fails to open, or I stop getting air through my regulator a hundred meters below the sea, I am still in control. It’s still up to me to troubleshoot the issue, take remedial action and get out of there. But when we swap and you’re sitting here and I’m back there? No control. Literally a passenger.” She explained as they slowed down for the pit entry. ”You struggled with that question about distractions, didn’t you?” ”I struggled with a lot just then. Let’s see how you do.” ”I’m at peace with my fate. When you said ‘Do you think about anything?’ and paused, I was about to answer ‘No’.” She laughed. ”No thought, head empty. EPR not at maximum yet.” He joined her, the danger having passed. ”Exactly! I paid for the whole gauge, I will use the whole gauge.” ”The nickname’s right, you are mad!” He shook his head.
She brought the ship in to stop in the pits, springing out of the seat and offering Ben help getting out. If he was half as shaky as she expected to be, he’d need it. ”Fucking hell! Shit, that was fun, but terrifying!” Ben yelled out, everyone collectively laughing ”He’s brave, this one. When NOVA sort their ship out, he’ll be a problem.”
Thursday 05/08 17:18 GAZZA [Batt: 87%]
———— Sun - 01/08/2094 ————
> Congrats on the first win! Absolute class. Next year in Silverstone so we can celebrate together, eh? [You reacted with ❤️] > Haha, thanks! > Yeah, came close this year, might actually happen. > No doubt.
———— Monday - 02/08/2094 ————
> Did I hear right? Caroline binned it in Finalnd? > Aye. Totalled the motor, retirement in the third stage. [You reacted with 😀] > Get fuuuuucked! > In the ditch, where she belongs.
———— Today ————
> I am SO SORRY for what I put you through for three years! 😀😀 > He? > Watch this episode of DH when it comes out, you’ll know.
Flo Mason She is already obsessed! Though annoyingly, she is following all of Bea's streams right now so she has turned the spare room upside down with art of Carrera and the old Silver Apex ship, which is not ideal...
Bea …Let me know if you want help setting up profanity filters on whatever device she watches on. Chat can be wild.
Ava Villarosa Right. The chat.
Bea Ow. Blue on blue.
— — —
Ben hale Yeah this is awesome, you guys are all dysfunctional adults
Bea Those of us who can be considered that. Welcome to the jungle.
— — —
Jen Lowry Sounds good though! Creepie-crawlies might not be my thing but the diving around there is awesome, and also, @Bea is half Hawaiian so she'll be our guide :)
Paul @Jen Lowry and @Bea I am down to try snorkeling and diving. I want to learn to surf. Know any good local teachers?
Bea Not this again. How many more of you are there?
Bea @Jen Lowry My mother moved out of Honolulu in 2061. 13 years before I was born. I’ve never been, not once. She hasn’t even been back. How am I in any way Hawaiian?
Bea But yeah, Hawaii is a diver’s dream if anyone wants to tag along on Sunday after the race, you’re more than welcome to. Same goes for the Barrier Reef.
Jen Lowry @Bea Count me in!
Flo Mason @Bea Put me down for tentative interest, I’m not sure about the schedule yet.
Ben Hale what via the London Borough of Maui? How is she Hawaiian?
Bea @Ben Hale Thank you!
Astrid That's wild. She's too angry to be Hawaiian
Bea Angry? Me?
Jen Lowry *Youtube link to ‘WRC 2090 onboards but the drivers keep getting angrier’* A full third of this is you. :)
Bea I’m not angry, I’m allergic to stupid. :p
— — —
Cassie Neves holy shit this is an Anglo-Argentine conflict
Kofi *Falklands intensifies*
Bea Not. This. Again.
Astrid Guys, she’s getting angry again.
Bea Okay, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?
Wedge Yep.
— — —
Ava Villarosa Cassie. Stop consuming beer, pls
Bea No, continue! :D
DELTΔ HYPER
The Shared Couch
”Does anyone else feel like they are on the seat outside the dean’s office?”
Paul lowered his voice and gave a conspiratorial whisper. “I mean I can see why Kais and Bea would be tagged troublemakers. I thought I was framed as the golden boy or gentleman like Dorian. What did I do to earn being lumped in with the bad boys and girls of the paddock?” He waggled his eyebrows enquiringly at Bea and then Kais.
”Not like the dean’s office at all.” Bea shook her head, ”Every time I went there, I knew exactly what they were going to ask about.” She answered as innocently as possible in stark contrast to the words coming out of her mouth. ”But how do you know what sitting in front of the dean’s office is like, mister golden boy gentleman?” She turned it around on Paul with an inquisitive look, fully aware the mics and cameras were already running and caring little. Aurora had time, she could wait. ”What did you do? You broke something, didn’t you? Something expensive.”
Sunday August 1st, 2094, 16:47 Stavelot, Belgium
The Race
It was almost a photo finish.
”P1 BEA, P1! THAT’S A WIN!” Despite several victories of his own, every new one was a celebration even if he had to only watch, especially since they were a rare occasion for Carrera. ”FUCK YEEEEEEES!” Her shout made people watching the broadcast with headphones wince. ”What a way to come back from the break!” ”Are you crying?” Be could hear the absolute pandemonium happening in the garage through Alistair’s microphone. ”Yep.” She laughed through tears of joy mixing with the breathing liquid, easing up on the throttle to let Paul come up alongside, matching speed and giving him a wave and a thumbs up before pulling ahead again for the turn around into the pits, as per tradition at Spa. ”You practiced this in Silverstone, and by God you delivered.” ”Please. This was just one guy, child’s play.” She replied, every breath she took a lie, ”Back home I had to juggle three different drivers. Bloody Hell, I think I haven’t been breathing since Les Combes.” She started laughing again. ”Me neither, but four laps ago.” ”Bea, what a drive. Brilliant job!” León came over the radio when the driver-race engineer celebrations have calmed down, ”Edge of our seats the entire time, but you came through.” ”Brilliant job by everyone in the garage and at the factory as well. I barely did a thing, this was all you, from Felix to the last janitor. This was for you. And let there be many more.”
As she pulled into the marked position, the coveted ‘1’ sign in front of her ship, Bea looked up in her cockpit. ”Sorry, Mister Mulder. He’ll get it next year.” Then, she leapt out of the ship like a jack-in-a-box and sprinted off to the side where her team was assembled, almost toppling the barrier separating them when she threw herself into their arms.
Sunday August 1st, 2094, 2094, 17:15 Stavelot, Belgium
Cooldown Room
The upgraded lungs came in at just the right time, as with just a minute’s absence, Bea was back in the cooldown room out of her fishbowl and breathing air like a landlubber again… …and unceremoniously collapsed onto the chair as the adrenaline washed out of her system. ”I’m alive, I swear. No need to poke me with a stick.” She called out to the other two pilots as she watched the highlights. ”You were determined to get that re-pass sewn up, weren’t you? You have seven rivets on the left side of your canopy, by the way, I got a very close look.” She joked with Amy, the ships having been close enough to start repelling each other.
”And you…” She turned to Paul, poking a finger in his direction before changing it to an offered hand to shake. ”...Have some Belgian Malinois hidden beneath that Golden Retriever. Smells a win, grabs a hold of it and doesn’t let go without a fight!” She smiled.
Bea didn’t let Amy’s ‘fever dream’ comment sour her day. She’d worry about that existential crisis tomorrow. The crowd below the podium with her team front and center seemed to reenergize the Brit, jumping up onto the center step of the podium. Trophies were handed out, champagne opened, Bea smiling and laughing like a kid on Christmas the entire time. Then, in an unguarded moment, she turned her bottle of champagne upside down, stuck it under Paul’s collar and poured a decent bit of it down his back. And as the pressure in the champagne subsided and the celebrations petered out, she laid down by the edge of the platform the podiums were on, stuck her hand through the railing and down, dropping the remaining champagne to her team for Alistair and León to catch and pass around.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 10: Changing Conditions
Back to the interview, Bea was still bouncing with excitement. And she had plenty of reasons to. After all, the weather was clearing up, she was looking at a week in Belgium and Germany before the race at Nürburgring, everything was set up without a hitch for the Mulder fundraiser and she just won her maiden win on one of her favorite tracks.
”Beatrix Ward, race winner! How does that sound, how does that feel?
”It sounds great and feels even better! I honestly didn’t think we would be doing half as good as we are this season, so to win a race and be fifth in the constructors’ standings is amazing. Flávia’s an undying optimist but even she didn’t have this on her bingo card.”
”What a move on Amy, and well, what a duel with Paul, you two looked so determined to get it over the line. Tell us what it was like, because that looked like one for the ages!”
”Yeah, Amy took me longer than we planned, but we improvise, adapt and overcome. We knew where our ship is stronger and planned accordingly. I guess she wasn’t expecting patience or planning from me?” Bea shrugged with a chuckle and a bit of self-deprecating humor, ”And for the rest of the race, I was lucky to have a very good dance partner today, no foul moves, steady hand on the controls and cool head on his shoulders.” She was this close to saying something about ‘other pilots’ but bit her tongue. Speak no ill of the dead, or at least those dead to the sport.
”I think I speak for everyone that we wish we could see duels like that in Formula AG every week!”
”Yeah, that would be great, wouldn’t it? I don’t know what our doctors would think of that though, it’s quite an exercise. I think Ivan and our cardiologist would have an aneurysm if we made a habit of this, and that’s coming from someone with a synthetic heart!” Bea laughed, ”But it was fun to drive and no doubt fun to watch. Races like this, Tokyo or Silverstone are what people think of when they hear ‘Formula AG’ and that’s how it should be. This is the sport, this is what should matter.”
Bea sat cross-legged on the garage floor, clearly dressed for the night’s celebrations with the crew with a colorful asymmetrical shirt, a black leather jacket, dark blue jeans and black knee-height lace-up boots, leaning against her ship with her helmet in her lap. ”So we did it. First win in the big league.” She spoke in an uncharacteristically calm manner, looking up at the camera. Two hours later she’d be drunkenly singing Battle Beast's ‘Last Goodbye’ with Alistair and Pete Hayes, but right now she was in that span of time when the facts were still registering. ”Happened a lot sooner than I thought, even if it might be a while before the next one. It all came together just the way it should have, and the result speaks for itself. And as much as I’d love to hang this on my living room wall and hopefully keep adding more as the years go on, I think I figured out a better thing to do. I’ve got a better way to celebrate my successes,” She raised her right arm into view, a black marker circle with the words ‘FA win 1 here’ on her forearm just below the elbow, the words ‘Live at Bea Draws Stuff, Sunday 8th at 17:00 UTC’ appearing on screen for a few seconds. ”So I thought I’d pass it off to one of you guys: You bloody legends without whom our sport wouldn’t exist. We’ll auction this off. Bidding starts tomorrow at 12:00 PM UTC, link somewhere down there as always, ends Sunday 15th at 11:59 PM and whatever it sells for I will match and donate the lot to a non-profit or charity of the winning bidder’s choice. If the winner doesn’t choose anything, it’ll go to ‘Safety First’, which is a non-profit aimed at safe and responsible spaceflight. Full disclosure, Safety First is run by Daniel Walsh, who is a former classmate of mine. I’m not trying to feed a friend’s organisation, Dan’s a good lad and his folk are doing great work in their field, so that’s why that choice. If you object, bid high and choose something else.” She smiled into the camera before it turned into a big, dumb grin. ”Now, if you’d excuse me.” She jumped to her feet, seemingly reenergized to her usual levels. ”I just won my first Formula AG race, there’s a keg with my name on it somewhere and it would be criminal to keep it waiting.” She bolted out of the room, the camera lingering on the helmet with the ship in the background before fading to black.
AndesAG: absolutely over the moon, screamed my voice away. my neighbor threw a brick through my window to let me know he also wanted bea to win 😀 Mate0: Shame Ava dropped. Still a baller result. Zero: Fight’s now on with Zygon. MMR are in the dust. CarreraCarmen: Double points and a win, let’s goooooo!! 🎉🏆 Hotstuff: what a season! five rookies, four got maiden wins and the korean android still has half a season to make it. Mate0: Just as long as they stay in the bottom half of the standings where they belong. Zero: is this the actual helmet or a replica? MadBea: It’s the actual helmet. You take me for a liar? 😛 Sol_de_Mayo: Holy shit! Zero: Bidding Cats4Life: How about pieces of the ship? MadBea: You can have my entire first chassis. You can come pick it up with a vacuum cleaner and a sieve. 😀 CloroxEnjoyer: What’s the starting bid at? MadBea: 1p. You decide how much it’s worth to you. NoahOfStavelot: Torn up that Paul didn’t win but can’t complain about the show. Cookiesaurus: kinda mad about the restart not doing much. Was hoping amy would join the fight. NineIron: I opened a big bag of crisps for this race and completely forgot to eat any past lap five! Richie: Novel weight loss approach. Shel1: Dorian seems to be phoning it in already. DohnJoe: zenix continues to be a whole badass and half ChesterFromChester: Grid Granny Flo showing the young whippersnappers how things are done. UrbanMaverick: And Benji regretting stepping into shit. GalwayGirl: First sleeping in during the off season and now a whole keg? Keeping up your regimen I see. 😛 MadBea: Astrid exists and you’re giving me shit for celebrating? 😀
Ebrima had just bent his knees to jump up into the truck when someone hoisted him up unexpectedly, coming face to face with… Fuck’s sake.
"Heard you talking shit about me." Athena glared into his eyes with a deadpan look, before a smile cracking, her visor and helmet opened still.
”Yes, because I transmitted it, that means your radio is working.” He stated flatly while being held like a wet cat, ”Good, you’ll need that up there.”
"Wouldn't be the first one either. But....if you want a job after this is all done, I know a Managing Director who might be hiring for miserable looking mercs chasing a paycheck. Or is that less your thing these days? I mean, I heard you were done with this...." Athena giggled.
"You playing fair, Valkyrie? I thought we said you'd stop talking bollocks?" Skye asked, as Athena shook her head. "Hey, he star..." Athena started, as Skye looked at her, then at Ebrima.
”Very mature.” He got in edgewise before Skye spoke up, a snigger escaping the caged merc’s throat.
"I swear, the Service would just have me whoop out a can of kick ass on both of you, but I'm out of body and out of my fucking mind with this whole mess. Go fuck or fight it out already. But we have a version of me to wipe clean first before you do." Skye held her authoritive, sharp tone with more than a little tongue in cheek knowing she could pull that joke on them.
”Sorry boss, cannot comply.” Ebrima shook his head in response to the first option brought forward by Skye, ”I heard the big one’s spoken for.” He casually pointed to Eloise. ”Can’t fight either, you still haven’t paid me, I can’t afford her medical bill Blue Sword would send me.” He turned back to Athena and mimicked her tone and expression before turning serious again. ”I appreciate the offer. An instructor’s post doesn’t sound like a bad retirement, but you’ll need to talk to her about that.” He gestured to Skye. Well, he was saying that now, there was a non-zero chance he’d seriously be considering busting Avi out of prison after a month of working under Athena, but that was future Ebrima’s problem, present Ebrima kinda had his hands full ensuring there would be a future Ebrima in the first place.
Sat down, strapped in, and helmet on, he ran a pressure check on his suit and made sure the kukri sat secure, strapped to his forearm. Not an ideal place, but the only one he could fit it on the bulky suit. And that was about everything he could do.
Monday July 26th, 2094, 19:32 Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)
So far her inquiry into the neural link logs yielded no results. Well, it told her that it either wasn’t triggering on its own when it wasn’t supposed to, or it was and wasn’t leaving any trace. Normally she’d go with the former because it was the simpler solution, but she knew for a fact there was no trace of her VR chat with Amy except a text message on her phone, that was the first date and time she checked.
Slowly she was coming to terms with the fact that she’d have to tell Lucho at least something to get his help directly. She’d need an excuse to have him look into anything that might be bypassing the neural blockers without sounding like some kind of conspiracy nut, paranoid schizophrenic or some other kind of nutter, unaware that he’d already been doing so on his own time, spurred by her cryptic visit. And interruptions were not helping her think. She let the phone ring once it told her who was calling, not really caring for what some suit from the board had to say. Call during business hours.
”Hello Beatrix, Pablo here. Sorry to call you while you're away, but, listen, I wanted to talk a little bit of business through with you. Normally I would have gone to Frederick, or Leon first, but I thought to go to you directly. I believe in our chances this season, and I think you are the key to that. I'll be at Spa. See you there.”
Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.
She waited a few minutes before sending a message back so it would look like she was busy as opposed to not paying attention to her phone. > We’ll speak after the race, then. She didn’t need any more distractions than she already had on her plate. ”Bloody neural mods…” She cursed to no one in particular as she poured herself another cup of cranberry tea with a horse’s dose of Brandy.
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 10: Changing Conditions
”Beatrix, Kais, Paul, welcome back to Delta Hyper. How were your Summer Holidays?”
Bea let the other two go first - Paul because he was at home here and Kais… Look, you don’t step on someone like that in conversation. ”It’s great to be back at the track. Did you miss us?” Bea poked Aurora a bit before answering the question. ”No wake up alarm.” She shook her head with a blissful smile, ”For three weeks I didn’t roll out of bed until eleven.” In fact, she’d messed up her biological clock so much that Bridget had to wake her up by throwing rocks at her window at seven in the morning the first two days of going back to in-season timetables.
Friday July 30th, 2094, 16:12 Stavelot, Belgium
Post practice
Practice had been looking promising that weekend. Bea loved Spa on the worst days, but the timing tower might as well have been a wizard’s tower because what was on top of it was conjuring smiles all over the Carrera Condor garage.
”Bea, no funny business into Turn One, yeah? We have a hell of a ship on our hands...”
”Temper expectations.” Bea returned the hug a little more coldly than usual. ”The next race will have the next set of problems. Let’s make it count while we know we can. We won’t have it this easy until the home race.” ”Who are you and where is Bea?” Ava poked, ”Did Ivan install a sense of self preservation along with your lungs?” No, but Amy did remove something during that surgery. ”I always underpromise and overdeliver. I’m not here telling everyone I’ll win the championship in my rookie year, just that I’m here to prove I belong.” She shrugged, ”But if you want bravado: Rounds 17 through 19 will be knockouts.” She alluded to the speed-heavy, stability-ignoring circuits.
Saturday July 31st, 2094, 16:32 Stavelot, Belgium
Qualifying
Due to what Spa demanded, Carrera Condor might as well have turned up with an actual Antares-B aerospace interceptor as opposed to a racing ship with an engine from that bolted on the back. Careful through La Source, she shot out from it and up the two-Eau Rouge-Radillon combination, the ship dipping so low through two that it kicked up spray with the wake turbulence. Absolutely screaming down Kemmel, braking hard enough for Les Combes that vapor trails started forming around the various air brakes as moisture condensed in the low-pressure air around them.
Then came the masterstroke, drilled strenuously in sims and practiced to perfection on Friday. Tilting the ship in two axes, the air brakes angling to produce lift and pull the ship to the left and the AG unit likewise pulling into the corner, Bea took Pouhon flat with just a lift on entry, engine screaming like a beast possessed the entire way through.
The ship was like nailed down through the MAG section, only coming close to struggling through the Neuville chicane before getting spat out between the grandstands in front of turn 16. The ships couldn’t break the sound barrier, but the fans almost made up for the sonic boom as she kept it pinned through 16 and Blanchimont, all the way until the bus stop. She ran out of courage there, braking a bit too early and losing a tenth of a second in that one corner alone.
”THAT’S PROVISIONAL POLE BEA! GUARANTEED P2!” ”YEEEEES!” She whooped so loud the mics actually picked up the sound of the breathing liquid rushing through her throat, ”That was almost good.” She laughed. ”Oh, get out of here! I haven’t seen Alonso smile this much since Burkhart said ‘yes’.” Alistair laughed with her, ”Even Asturia is smiling, actually. It’s a bit unnerving.”
Little bit later…
”FUCK! How many times have I been through that chicane?” She punched the canopy frame, untangling herself from the crash harness ”Everything came together and then I brake like I’m in a kart for the first bloody time!” ”It’s P2 to Ava’s P4. You have 45 minutes to make up one position tomorrow. It’s halfway in the bag already.” Alistair rallied pretty quick in the face of the unexpected outburst, race engineers being many things including part-time psychologists. ”I know, but that could have been pole, damn it.” She lamented her error, ”It’s a great result, but it stings. Such a dumb mistake at one of my favorite tracks…” ”Don’t let it get to you. No-” ”No heroics into T1, I know.” She cut him off, ”Sell La Source, lock in through two through four and then we get her with the slipstream down Kemmel.” She shrugged, rattling off pretty much the exact words Alistair was about to say. ”If that fails, stay on her through the MAG section and you’ll have the speed advantage past Blanchimont.” He nodded. ”As long as I hit the braking point for the Bus Stop.” ”Unless she gets you on brakes, that will also compromise her and you’ll once again have the advantage accelerating on corner exit.”
DELTΔ HYPER
Episode 10: Changing Conditions
Back to the interview couch, under a gazebo to keep the rain away, still with her racing limbs on except with Sarif Industries, PolarVault and other sponsor logos 3D printed and attached to the circular openings with snap-fits.
“Beatrix, the upgrades look incredibly impressive. Take us through what you're feeling, with a podium position today in qualifying? Do you think you have what it takes to win?”
”What I’m feeling… What I said in the garage right after the qualy lap is unpublishable I guess, so… ” Bea chuckled. ”A stupid mistake on my part. Still, an absolutely amazing result despite that, one we didn’t even dare dream of two months ago. I’m completely blown away by the work Felix and the whole engineering team have done over the summer. She’s even faster than before, like glued to the road at high speeds and even more responsive to inputs now. Do I think we can win?“ She let the question hang in the air for a second, ”Of course I think we can. All racing drivers do, otherwise we wouldn’t be here, would we?” She asked like it was an obvious thing.
“What would you say to your past self about the journey you've been on?”
She thought about it briefly. Jamie’s stunt in Cape Town. Astrid’s bullshit penalty in the wake of Italy. Layla laying in that recovery room, lights on but no one home. Amy’s desperate plea and the server rack now in her garage. ”That’s for my past self to hear.” She smiled with a shrug.
Pilots’ Group Chat
Paul Since we are going to be close to my hometown, I will be hosting the dinner party for the pilot group on Thursday before the race at Spa at Villa De Fleurs. I have rented out the entire hotel. Come stay for the race and join me for dinner on Thursday. World Renown Chef Greyson Angelotti will be cooking just for our group.
Bea Ward @MadBea: [Selfie of Bea in a hospital bed, smiling at the camera with a ‘V for Victory’ gesture.] Back to the hospital, this time intentionally. If heart replacement surgery is anything to go by, I’m in for a week of misery and painkillers before I can start moving around, so I’m going to need something to keep myself distracted. Therefore, I’m opening another art contest. Until Saturday 10th, you can send in whatever art you’ve made to the cloud storage linked below.
No porn. You know who you are.
Just starting? Send it anyway. I’ll divvy them up into categories so even the beginners among you can get something. After it closes, the top three in each category get a painting of their choice. List of available ones likewise below, so you can go window shopping. After I’m out of here, we’ll make a stream out of going over the winners, as well as seeing where some of you may have some room for improvement, so be sure to let me know if you don’t want your name or work out there in your submission. See you on the other side!
In a quaint forest track, the sound of the WRC car roaring along echoed through the night, the backfire of the engine clattering as the light went past the trees, the wind breaking through pines, with a slight drizzle.
With it, in the spectator stands, a hand pulled on Bea’s shoulder, currently a weird apparition. “Hey there. No shock that I thought this is what you would be dreaming of.” Amy’s voice gave a wry chuckle, as the entire thing dissolved, fading into a weird branch of grey and white, colouring the infinite abyss open, as she stepped through, the sight of her in some weird white overall without branding no doubt a shock to Bea, completely immersed in what was now no longer a dream, no longer something else, but in her mind.
What felt like effectively a white room, but it seemed far more complex, and weirder than that.
“Sorry to bother you. Thought it would be a good time to pop around. Relax, don’t worry. We’re inside your subconscious, they’re currently operating on you, and yes, I know, this is definitely weird. We’re in the bit of your neural link that normally doesn’t get to play around with your prefrontal cortex, and your layers of memory. It’s rude of me, I know, but if you want, shove me over and I’m gone.” Amy retorted, poking against Bea’s shoulder, the feeling definite, actually tangible to Bea. Dreams didn’t poke a nerve.
Because this wasn’t a dream state. This wasn’t a hallucination, something brought on by drugs, sure, but the wire inside let Amy rummage around. “Yes, that is weird. But, do you mind hearing me out before you kick me to the side? I think you probably deserve to hear it.”
”You’re not who I expected to see here.” Bea finally spoke up when she got over the initial ‘WTF’ of the situation, sounding equal parts surprised and disappointed. ”Not winning me over with the change of scenery either. But go on, I have nowhere else to be. I doubt Ivan would appreciate me going elsewhere right now.” She giggled.
Amy shrugged, looking around the abyss, without much to comment on the scene her self. “Me neither. You pick where we go. Show me, if you’d like. You’re in control of this as much as I am.” Amy smiled, looking about, looking over, sitting on the floor, made of what felt like felt despite being frankly made of void.
With that, Bea looked intently off to the side, with nothing at all happening. ”I guess a shirtless Carlos Sainz was too much to ask for.” She shrugged, the void morphing into a churning mass of colors before settling on a yacht on a calm and open sea. Good, she’d have to stop calling herself an artist if she couldn’t muster up the imagination to change her own dream. Or whatever this was. Way over her understanding of neurology.
Amy tittered, hearing her make that comment, before looking around at the new void, clambering onto the water and seemingly walking against it, before sitting back up. “So, here’s the thing.” She looked out, then back across. “It’s been an exciting few months for you, gone from strength to strength, currently having some new lungs, and some impressive hardware fitted. It’s good. May I make one suggestion, though?” Amy commented, looking over, clambering up and inside.
“Just keep an eye on your team-mate. Ava’s talking a lot to Kais. I think you probably have it owed to you to know she’s more interested in feeding intel to Al-Saqr at the moment, and it’s why her mind isn’t on things. Now, I’d tell you that in person, but the reason we’re in here is because I think you know this is a bit more informal, and you now know I’m not quite….well, as neurally gifted as a normal pilot. Until about eight weeks ago, I was alone in that. But the only way it went through was via the upgrades that you received. And Ava gave them to Al-Saqr. Who then, are now melting their minds.” Amy commented, looking around, sitting slack in the chair, looking out at the void.
“It melds your implant to the ship, makes it more refined, closer, and bit by bit, the ship starts to take over your brain. Starts to merge if you push through the last guardrail. But actually, it gives you something more. Gives you the ability to worry less about your body, and more about the infinite possibility beyond. I found that out a year ago. What Ava doesn’t know is that Kais and Layla, especially Layla, are playing with fire. What they lack is the understanding that they’re being monitored by the Arabic Union’s internal teams. I heard all of it. Layla’s got noble dreams of being truly able to live in the cosmos forever, but……I think you know people like your dad would find this tech tantalising for other reasons, let alone someone with far worse intent. And if they find out there’s Carrera’s code in there, even a trace….well, I thought I’d tell you personally to watch your back. Layla already messed with things once in Portugal. She’s not in control.” Amy commented, unfolding her legs, leaning against the rail, shrugging her head.
“Now, you could tell FIAR, sure. But for everyone involved, I thought it’s best I tell you, and here was the best way, and you had some info before anything else starts happening, because it’s best if it’s kept quiet. And the only person that might be able to even spot it is me. We’re talking beyond quantum now..” Amy added, shifting the cloud in the sky, looking up, then looking back. “This isn’t going to be regular, don’t worry. You’re anaesthetised, and have a wire sticking in you. It makes doing this a bit easier while I’m asleep in my house to keep this on the down low.”
”This… This is…” Be eventually got out, ”Absolutely insane.” Genuine fear in her eyes and voice likely not seen since she nearly put Gazza through a utility pole in 2088, and with Amy’s apparition the closest thing to a representation of something to be afraid of, she started backing away before she took deep breath.
”Nope, no, I know what this is. Anesthesia. The last time I went under, I thought a bear was playing cymbals in the next room, so this is relatively benign.” She started pacing back and forth. ”Dad despises neuralware, and that got passed on to me. So this is all just my brain panicking about that. None of this year’s upgrades are even mods, it’s all been ship-side because we’ve been a hundred years behind monkeys, to quote Alejandro.” Her pacing now took her through railings and out of bounds of the ship, ”And suggesting Ava might not be trying because I don’t know if I’m genuinely doing well or getting lucky. And you’re here, because… Because I still know you more by your public persona, which frankly, in the nicest way possible, is a ruthless-” She cut herself off before swearing, ”So the perfect messenger for doubts and fears. There we go. Occam’s Razor: satisfied.” She finally took a proper breath.
Amy looked around, shrugging, as she didn’t have to flicker much. She instead, flickered to Monaco, to above where the casino floor was, and where Kais and Ava were leaning against a wall. “You sure?” Amy asked, mid conversation between the two before them.
“Apex pushes pilots, the mods they’re taking on are silly,” Ava elaborated, “but even this by their standards seems stupid. So maybe even Amy doesn’t know what happened. Someone is seeing what comes next. Something Amy hasn’t even realised. It’s out of character, even for her.” Ava added, staying close within the pillar’s shadows.
“The only other thing I can think of is Amy having come from Zygon. That is the only other firm that has anything immediate to benefit. They’d do something like this. But maybe I’m misjudging.”
“Zygon, huh?” Kais rumbled under his breath as he stared back onto the main floor, to Amy... and Han. Yes, he always had an uncanny feeling about her... Something about her, beyond her unreadable mannerisms, something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet, something alien yet eerily familiar. And that, more than anything, made all his alerts go up on red.
“Find what you need to. But watch your back... If this goes into the wrong hands, we are screwed.”
“We already are…” Kais answered with a sense of detached acceptance. It was true, he felt, at least when it came to him. He was born a beast of sacrifice, and it seemed even now that was to be his fate. “So be it,” he nodded. “That’s when I do my best work anyway.” His tone was flat, controlled, but empty in a way.
Amy walked up to them, as if they weren’t a thing, shrugging. “I’m ruthless, arrogant, hell, I’m amazed you didn’t call me a bitch. All those things are fair. And sure, I took risks more than any pilot. Your heroes all do, and everyone has in this game to get ahead, it’s why you’re getting a new set of lungs most of us even think is a big step. But when I said I’d have your corner….I wasn’t lying.” Amy stated, pointing them out.
“She is trying. She’s good people, Bea. But she comes from a world where she has unfinished business, and sees every nail as something to hammer. Maybe she’s doing it to Al-Saqr to weaken them? Maybe just because she just hates me. I can’t read her mind. But what I do know is, you clearly have talent. Something about you. Just don’t get screwed by the others. That’s all I’m saying.” Amy added, in her black coloured dress now stepping against a pillar, looking out as Ava went back down, as did Kais, after their conversation, the Silver Apex pilot looking back to Bea. “Questions?”
”Ooooooor - hear me out - all of this is more bullshite I made up.” She tried to mock what she believed was - in essence - herself, but sounded unsure of whether she was subconsciously gaslighting herself to believe… all of that Bond stuff, or if she was consciously gaslighting herself into ignoring it and living carefree like she always does.
Amy pointed out downstairs, leading the way, seeing Bea’s actual self, then the rest of them, coming in mid conversation between Bea, Harrison, Max, and the Princess, storming off.
”Al-Saqr aren’t the only ones who can soar high.” Bea called back to the latter half of the Arabic team’s slogan with a cheeky grin. Not being happy to see the Kiwi was practically a physical impossibility. ”I can hardly take all the credit though, I recall having a very charismatic sidekick at Marmolada.” She continued in good humor, committing Caroline’s expression and the sight of imaginary steam escaping out of her ears at being ignored at the drop of a hat in her peripheral vision to her memory.
“Italy was amazing. I was going to say, after that, my phone is ringing off the hook, and bloody hell, it even convinced Owen to go easy on me with risky stuff. You seem to be the common denominator for all this thing on the grid, you know…”
”To quote: Well, don't ruin your brain, the rest of you we can rebuild.” She repeated Carrera Condor head physician’s words verbatim, herself having heard them in her first month with the team. “Only fair Dorian got a chance to shine this time. I’m a bit surprised Paul didn’t get a part.” Max interjected, “Has me wondering what they’ll have in store for me in Utah.” “Dorian was a good fit for the gentleman spy thriller theme they were going for.” Harrison shared, nods of agreement all around. ”Yeah, you and I have more of a superhero vibe.” Bea gestured between herself and Harrison, earning a fist bump from the Kiwi. His plan worked flawlessly, and the hitherto ignored princess scurried off somewhere else.
”Of course I remember this, I was there. And seriously?” She gestured to Caroline’s face, ”How could you NOT remember this? Look at her. She looks like an overheating boiler.” Bea giggled like a child at the sight once again.
Amy chuckled, enjoying her humour in this situation, simply walking through Harrison and up to the other side of Bea, looking back to her, shaking her head. “I remember it, just weird to be looking back at yourself not through a camera lens, or a drone, isn’t it?” Amy asked, pirouetting around, chuckling, looking around at it all.
“Tell you what. If you think you’re dreaming. Why don’t I show you something else?” Amy knew Bea wasn’t quite taking this seriously, so with it, the scene seemed to vanish, almost to black.
And burnt a little, enough to make even Bea feel it. A normal neural link couldn’t support it. But Amy’s could. Hers absolutely could, even if her body inside an ice bath right now was climbing up the thermostat.
And it came back, light up again, inside a medical room, somewhere with palm trees outside, and within it, lay Layla, on a hospital bed, doctors surrounding her, as Amy walked on through. “This isn’t quite known to you yet. If you think you’re dreaming, I wish this wasn’t what was dreamt up.” Amy added, looking back over, shrugging her head, leaning in, looking at her.
“I respect her. On the track, she may not have been as scary as Harrison, or outright as suicidal as Nora and Kais, but, she saw what I saw. I should hate her but you know, takes a lot of bravery to take the unique opportunity one gets from unparalleled computational power and biomodifications. She’s seen the bond. And I hope I hear something soon. It’s only a matter of time with a mind like that she emerges back in. Or elsewhere. I’ll try and help if…well, no idea how.” Amy added, taking her hand, feeling the warm contact of Layla’s metal, looking to Bea.
“There isn’t anything in there, Bea. She had a brain haemorrhage in Montreal. And it fucking hurts because I can’t tell anyone I knew she was delving too deep into the stuff you can’t. Sorry you had to find out. But this is why I’m worried. And why you need to just be careful.” Amy said, solemnly to Bea, looking across. If there was any doubt, Bea would have certainly felt something in her body now that felt very, very much like she wasn’t in her own, if for a moment, knowing the touch would be as if it were real.
”More things you’re showing me inside my own mind, high as a bloody tree. We already mentioned Tweety birds here, and she’s always been fucking nuts with…” Bea gestured to Layla, whether it was ‘her’ or ‘it’ up for debate even more now with Amy’s claim of ‘head empty’. ”You want to show me proof of something? Show me something tangible. Out there.” She pointed to the windows of the room, not realizing in the moment that wasn’t an actual window as she was getting notably heated. No more scared and uncertain, more scared and mad.
”And let’s say this is all true. Why can’t you tell? Why couldn’t you before this supposedly happened? Because you’d expose yourself, is that it?”
Amy nodded, quiet, almost as if she was sorry for herself, breathing out a cold, hard look. “Because I’m in over my fucking head!” Amy added exasperatingly, and looked back at Layla, before back across. “Because….how the fuck do I? The only person that knows even half of what I run on is our neurosurgeon, really. AI iterates, it makes its own bonds, this is shit I don’t understand. And I don’t know how to stop this. And worst, I can’t even say it out loud. Fuck FIAR, I don’t want to die. Okay?” Amy uttered, taking Bea’s hand, and with it, ripping her out of this room, back into darkness.
And into what was a cold, darkened one in Silver Apex’s HQ, the logo on the wall giving it away, and there, an ice-bath, with Amy in it. “Exposing myself is half the problem, Bea. Layla and Kais are smart enough to know they can’t say anything either. If I do, the ship will tear the other part of me out. A guardrail of it’s own. I’m as much that thing outside, as I am Amy Stirling.” Amy added, looking over, sighing, as she felt her own temperature slowly, steadily grow.
“We’re all ready to die racing, aren’t we. Nora and Ava nearly did. You’re the only person I can confide in left, Bea. And now Jen’s joining, I wouldn’t wish this on her either.” Amy added, sighing as she put her hands in her head, sighing hard, exhaling and looking up.
Bea took the scene in, forcing herself to take this insanity seriously for a moment. ”What about Jamie? On his way out, unlikely to touch a ship for years to come, leaving… frankly disgraced may not be a strong enough word. Few would look twice at the story of such a pilot spilling dirt of the team that chewed him up and spat him out?” She tried, none of this trickery her wheelhouse. ”Claim this big, people will at least have to look at.”
“Jamie didn’t know. Never had access to it.” Amy sighed, nodding. “We hoped he’d learn the ship on his own. But how do you learn something without a bond like it?” Amy asked, knowing as valid as a question was, he’d blame something else.
”Guess who else didn’t know about this until a minute ago?” Bea pointed at herself with both hands.
Amy nodded, knowing pity wasn’t going to be thrown here. And that was fair. “Nope, you didn’t know. But, I’m out of ideas. The feeling of not telling someone bottles up. And, given you’re the closest thing I can call a friend, I suppose I owed you an apology. You at least deserve the truth.” Amy added, sighing, thinking about it a little more, getting nervy, visibly so, more than Bea had ever seen her.
“And….because I need to trust you with something else.” Amy added, walking over to her arm, raising her own moving it out of the way of her neck. With it, she passed across a small node, holding it in her carbon-like hand.
“If what happens to Layla, happens to me, I can’t have anyone in Silver Apex come in. The AI inside there is being pushed back and is why you’re feeling the heat. It’ll run riot on our servers given how much further I am than her. She could at least find her way home…..so you might be able to hold onto a shard of me. I know you have no reason to trust me. And I know you’d think I’d want to take you over. Believe me, it would be the last thing I’d want, not someone I care about to be swallowed up. But that imprint of my memory, if you can sequence it into about a petabyte’s worth of storage, and keep it somewhere safe, might be the only version of me left stable enough. I’ll finish the season, Bea. But I might not make it to the next. It’ll drop into a self-contained part of Carrera’s stores. Yours to then take and look after if…anything happens. You will know where to look.” Amy asked, sighing as she knew she was asking a lot. Bea had the option. Receive, or push back.
”I meant leak it through him. Man’s never admitted mistake anywhere I heard him speak, if he thought he could spin it to salvage his career he’d probably run to the Moon and back with it.” She got an exasperated word edge-wise before falling silent, listening to Amy speak further.
”I… I don’t know how to even begin unpacking anything you just said!” She said, sounding genuinely apologetic and confused like a deaf bat.
Amy nodded, knowing this was difficult. “I suppose, I’m politely asking if you could keep a version of me alive somewhere in case that body there, goes to shit. I know this isn’t ethical. Or good at all. But give me that option at least, Bea. I can’t go to anyone else. Nobody without rattling them to bits, or anyone who would run.”
”I get the ‘what’, it’s the ‘how’.”
”Anything that can take a petabyte on an encrypted, petabyte’s worth of storage. Without internet access. A dormant copy. Fuck. I sound so selfish when I put it like that. I’ll be written automatically onto your servers, onto an access only you can find. Up to you to then move me over, offline..” Amy sighed, looking on, watching as the temps clambered on the digital display. “Sorry to push you, Bea, but I haven’t got much time. I’ll shove you back into your head before mine cooks though.”
”Your birthday!” Bea blurted out, brains crumbling for something that could look innocuous to an outside observer, and sending one’s birthday to their ‘friend’ as AMy put it - still felt surreal, that - shouldn’t be suspicious. ”If at least one percent of this isn’t a fever dream, text me your birthday.”
Amy shuffled around, itching her cheek a second, nodding. “Okay. But this will be a lot more tricky. Only reason I’m in your….wait, you’re in my head. Hang on. I can show you now.” Amy realised, running over and yoinking her, the fade quick, as the two suddenly phased into something Amy hadn’t entirely realised with that.
“Wait. How the fuck are we here?” Amy looked on, seeing ten year old Amy sitting there, playing with her new console, her father pacing up and down on the phone, as grown-up Amy looked to Bea. She walked through the room.
“This wasn’t the plan..” Amy added, walking past a calendar, pointing it out, the circled red colour on there, more to herself than anything. Her mother came in, with a cake, and Amy realised something strange.
“Why was nobody at my birthday?” She watched on, looking to Bea, almost as if she’d forgotten this part. “I mean, I remember my dad was busy, and mum was there but…..I had friends at school. I had a lot? Why am I alone?” Amy asked, her father coming through. It was a blur. Oddly, the voices weren’t heard. But soon enough, ten-year old Amy was up after blowing out the candles on her cake, and out of the room, as Amy stood on, silent.
“I don’t remember that at all. Shit, is this collapsing in…no that is definitely the date. That was it, but there were way more people. I remember that. I had Cara there, Sam there, Lyra over there, it was….it wasn’t this. Did I make this up?” Amy added, looking to Bea, now actually more confused by any of this at all.
Even if this hadn’t been real, Bea’s heart still sank. Maybe it was all the movie nights with her dad, but only one thing came to her mind when she saw this happening. ”That far gone?”
Amy’s entire body language sagged, as she walked over to Bea, shaking her head, exhaling hard. “I had….a pretty sheltered childhood. I don’t quite get this though. This….this wasn’t what I remembered..” She added, one slice taken for the road, Amy’s mother, the Korean half of Amy’s own ethnicity, scurrying around and getting the rest taken away, feeling more burning heat start to pierce into the render. She pointed her childhood friends out in where they would have sat, more for her own sake. But was now worrying about another question. This wasn’t meant to be shown to Bea. Or even herself. She had a feeling this was even stranger.
“Shit. you need to go back. Look. I’ll text you. But this might be a bit more difficult now. I can’t come back to see you like this. If I do this while you’re conscious, it’ll probably fry me, and you. Or worse. I’ll think something through during summer to work this out.” Amy iterated, not quite sure of her own past now, come to think of it, because this was not the memory she had of this event. The right date. Yet the details rearranged. Walking over, Amy took her hands, holding tight, in the synthetically warm grip.
“Listen, please don’t tell anyone about it. I know it’s tempting. But I’m pretty sure that would fuck me up worse. How it is now, I can try and look after this. Figure out Layla too. Please, Bea. You’re just about the only person I really trust now.“ Amy uttered, a little bit stunned, broken, and swept away by this.
”Petabyte storage, no connection. Camera looking out of a window. Talk to you at Spa, if not sooner.” Bea simply nodded, having seen and heard enough to take things seriously even if as just a precaution. Worst comes to worst, a petabyte would fit a lot of digital art.
“Thanks Bea. You’re a real friend. Cheers. I didn’t think it would come to this. But at least it gives me a chance to go somewhere once…well, hopefully future me works this out.” Amy added, the render cutting back, and it most likely, more certainly, making Bea feel a little bit less out of body. She wasn’t intruding, somewhere else. She was back. Back in Bea’s own headspace. Back to the yacht.
Amy took one last chance to look over at Bea as she clambered over the railing, smiling back. “I think you’re gonna be awake soon. Check your phone in a few minutes. I think I’m going to puke a lot when I wake up. Sorry, details…..comes with literally pulling someone into my head.” Amy added, chuckling, in a bit of awe of what she had quite done. No doubt the AI behind her ship had helped in that regard. Stepping onto the water, Amy appeared to float on it, walking over, looking up and down.
“Jen has a good taste in boats though. I see why you were such friends. Any friend of yours, Bea, I’ll look after too. I’ll see you after summer.” Amy smiled, giving a salute, walking backwards, towards oblivion.
The anesthetic had finally worn off. Yes, the anesthesiologist swore up and down the after effects used to last a lot longer just 20 years ago, but without a reference that rang hollow. Her neck felt like shit and every breath came with dull pain where the ribs had to be separated to let the doctors work.
Her phone pinged, the sound of a dog’s bark heralding an incoming text message. Probably dad asking her to call him back when she feels up to it.
And yet, she found herself unwilling to reach for it. The last time it took her this long to punch in four numbers was when she forgot her PIN and was down to the last attempt before the phone locked.
“12 / 12 / 66
See you in Spa”
Fate decreed that Amy wouldn’t be the only one throwing up upon waking up that day.
Double Stint
”Good morning, evening, afternoon or whatever it is wherever you’re joining us from for episode 179.” A tall blonde woman spoke in Irish-accented English, adjusting the old-fashioned studio mic hanging from the ceiling in front of her. ”We’re back, even if the racing isn’t yet!” What looked like her male version from a mirror dimension piped up with a heavy German accent. ”And we’ve got some big updates to cover here. As always, I’m joined by my lovely brother Gerhard.” She pointed to him, her hand disappearing from her camera window and appearing from off screen in Gerhard’s. ”And I by my amazing twin sister Ingrid,” He mimicked the same gesture, ”And welcome to the Double Stint.” They both said at once. ”Like Ingrid said, we have a lot to cover on today’s episode, but even before we get to that, we gotta introduce our guests, don’t we?” ”Absolutely! We’ve had big names on here before. We had Max Wedgewood, Ben Hale and even Felix Burkhart, and today the list is joined by Bea Ward and her race engineer, Alistair Vale!” The guest cameras appeared on screen. Alistair’s backdrop was the Buenos Aires skyline, but he was clearly still off duty if his ‘House of the Dying Sun’ TV Show t-shirt was anything to go by. ”Greetings.” Bea was recovering at home, a strip of gauze infused with a regenerative gel taped over where she’d been cut open sticking up from underneath her t-shirt. ”Helooo!” She waved, trying to remain her usual self despite the fatigue, painkillers and the fact that despite them, breathing still hurt where the ribs had been split to give Ivan room to work. ”Thank you both so much for making time to join us today. How are you spending your last days of the mandatory off time? Must be nice to switch off properly for the first time since…” ”Between Italy and Portugal?” Gerhard quickly filled in. ”Yeah, it’s been great. Finally had time to go back to Greece with my wife again. It’s absolutely amazing this time of year.” ”Enjoying the food?” ”Aye, I’m overfished like the North Sea.” ”Plus he’s glad to be rid of me for four weeks straight. Enjoying the quiet.” Bea giggled. ”That too.” Alistair smiled in response. ”And what about you, Bea? You’re obviously not vacationing, I trust you’re coming along well?” ”i knew what I was getting into, but yea, it’s a process.” She shrugged, trying to play it off. ”It’s better than last time, there were some advancements in painkillers since, these ones I can drink with and they don’t taste like the North end of a Southbound goat.” The three sets of laughter coming out of disgusted faces were a mark of success. ”I saw your art contest stream last Saturday, you already look so much better than then.” ”Thank you. Did you send anything in? I know you draw.” Ingrid’s brain momentarily stalled when a racing driver casually dropped being aware of her hobbies. ”I- I did, but didn’t win anything.” ”Really? Tell you what: Since I still can’t do most of my hobbies, you’re pretty much saving me from going stir-crazy, which calls for something given in return. Why don’t you two pick whatever you like from the gallery and I’ll bring them to Nürburgring.” Bea offered as casually as if she was suggesting she pay for your bus ticket, ”You’re both going, right?” ”I- ja, we are. Wow, danke shön!” Ingrid briefly slipped into her native German, Gerhard looking absolutely ecstatic over his sister’s joy. ”Don’t mention it.”
”Shall we move on to the news?” ”Yes, we’ve got a lot from FIAR as well as from some teams.” Ingrid recovered some traction. ”Including yours. You teased some upgrades after Canada, what can you tell us?” ”Yes! All we got from Carrera Condor was the Cerro Fitzroy outing with you, Ava and some press.” ”Yeah, Ava definitely would have preferred no press,” Alistair said, himself having been in the same boat while he was racing. ”But then it wouldn’t have been worth much as a PR activity for the team’s sponsors.” ”It’s fine, we kept their presence to a minimum and I have a deal with her since Monaco: Every time the PR attention is starting to annoy her too much, all she has to do is work ‘orange juice’ into a sentence so I know to pull them away.” ”You’ll have to change your code word now.” Alistair noted. ”Maybe now no one will ever be sure if Ava isn’t speaking in code and will not brother her in the first place?” Gerhard suggested, earning laughs from around the figurative table, Bea having to cut herself off when her ribs protested. ”Oh yeah, that would be her ideal world.” ”I’m working on her. Socializing introverts is difficult.” Bea chuckled. ”She’ll be here the next time you send an invitation over. But back to the upgrades, you’ll have to wait until Monday 26th.” Bea shook her head. ”Alright, we can wait a little longer.” Gerhard nodded, not looking too happy about it.
”Moving on, I think the biggest announcement made by FIAR was the mention of possibly adding ship-disabling weaponry-” ”If that goes through, I’m out the door.” Bea interrupted Gerhard, pointing behind herself with her thumb, ”I hear Rallycross is fun this time of the century, hillclimb is also up my street, I got a taste at Pikes Peak in June and I’m hoping to get a shot at the 24 hours of Le Mans next year, so that could be an option. If you want a contest of screwing each other over regardless of actual performance or talent, have fun, but I’m here to race.” ”The other changes are a double-edged sword, as any loosening of regulations gives more room for varied designs, but inevitably one or two teams will find what works significantly better than the rest, and they will dominate until the other teams change their ships to catch up and we end once again with no variety.” Alistair offered a more measured opinion, ”Great if we’re the ones who got it right, awful otherwise.” ”But points for the onboard nanite repair system.” Bea piped up with an unquestionable positive. ”Agreed.” Alistair nodded, ”It’s a proven system that salvaged several of my races in the past, I still don’t know why FIAR ever got rid of it beyond cost.”
”On the topic of races you took part in, Alistair,” Ingrid moved on to the next point, ”I think it’s safe to say we’re all relieved no one was injured, but devastated to hear Moa Therma got cancelled.” Nodding all around. ”But the replacement circuit I seem to recall being one of your all time favorites, right?” ”Aye, Coalescence is an amazing track, with characteristics that could benefit us if they keep the same layout.” ”I will take a trip to Hawaii instead. That’s my mum’s home, and since I’ve never been despite that, I’m looking forward to that. Diving gear’s already packed.” Bea added her own bit, having been looking forward to Rwanda. ”And a possible race in Iceland? Yes please! But I would replace Monaco, not Nürburgring. And don’t give me the ‘tradition’ excuse, Nürburgring has just as much history, is an actual race track and any history people ever talk about in relation to Monaco is F1, not FA.” She went on, earning a roughly 70-30 split of approving and disapproving emojis in the stream’s chat and cheers and applause from both Germans present. ”One of us. One. Of. us.” They both chanted, a decent amount of the approving chatters joining in. ”And while still on the topic of schedule changes, your thoughts on the FAS AGP change?” ”I would love the replacement to be Sebring. I know it’s not set up for AG racing, but neither is Marmolada for 50 weeks in the year, right?” Bea asked rhetorically. ”As for Mexico, sounds great. Replace Singapore and it even fits the schedule as part of the South American leg.” She added, shrugging. It would also get rid of a track Carrera weren’t expecting to do well at. ”If it were up to me, I’d go to Laguna Seca instead. Also not AG rated unfortunately.” Alistair shared his two cents.
”Alright, I think we can’t put this off any longer,” Gerhard changed the topic again,”Because half the chat is screaming ‘NOVA’ in all caps.” ”I love the livery.” bea simply shrugged, green featuring in either her livery or helmet at any point in her motorsports career. ”Two of their prominent sponsors were connected to Carrera Condor after Monaco, weren¨t they?” ”Orchard and VIXN were working with us after Monaco, yes. Ultimately it fell through, unfortunately. They had some demands we couldn’t or didn’t want to meet.” Alistair shrugged. ”Yep, have you seen some of VIXN’s clothing?” Gerhard and Ingrid nodded, ”They’re not big enough, and there’s not enough of them to get me to wear that in public.” She grinned. ”Shame.” Gerhard shrugged, leading to Ingrid facepalming and Bea trying to give him a nasty look but breaking down laughing halfway. ”Ah, suppose a compliment’s a compliment. I’ll allow it.” ”Spekaing of sponsors seemingly changing sides, Tetracolor is being linked with Harrison now. Why did you turn them down, I expected that to be more up your alley?” ”Because their product is shite.” Bea fired off without a heartbeat’s pause, ”And I guess they knew they’re not getting me to endorse something I wouldn’t use if they paid me to do it when it’s a thing I know a thing or two about.” ”You ditched a sponsor over that?” Gerhard raised an eyebrow. ”What’s so wrong with their products?” ”The artist’s paints they offer take forever to dry compared to competing products and they seep into soft supports like paper or canvas so they’re unnecessarily hard to work with, their model paints also dry for a long time and cost almost twice what you can buy equivalent products for and the house paints I guess could be okay if they work as advertised.” Be counted on her fingers. ”How do you feel about Florence Mason coming back to race for NOVA?” ”Michael Schumacher and Fernando Alonso also came back after a hiatus, and neither won a thing. We’re not worried, not yet.” Alistair shook his head. ”What does worry me is a Silver Apex advisor and a Silver Apex junior now driving the biggest shitebox on the grid. Is this another VCARB situation, Silver Apex fielding four cars now? Is that what’s happening? Because that better not be what’s happening.” Bea suggested.
”Let’s hope not. That covers the AG news. Now, with apologies to Alistair, we also have a few questions for Bea about her ‘extracurricular activities’ at Pikes Peak and possibly elsewhere…” Ingrid closed that segment before moving on to the next…
Saturday July 24th, 2094, 21:35 Mont Saint-Michel, France
750 meters North-West of the commune
The French waves lapped quietly against the hull of the Vernal Gale, like the sea singing a lullaby to the setting sun. Having fallen asleep on deck earlier that day and gotten sunburnt and a mild heatstroke as a result, Mrs. Ward had retired to the master cabin early and the elder of the Ward sisters wasn’t a night owl on the best of days, leaving just Bea and Frederick on the deck, gazing across the water at the old commune lit up in dozens of colored lights against the Eastern night sky. ”If I may, what got you so up in arms during that last round of meetings?” Fred asked. Since Bea was still technically in recovery from her surgery, she got dispensation to attend said meetings remotely much like the Monday debriefs, which allowed the Wards to extend their holiday and Frederick to see Bea looking like she wanted to punch something firsthand. ”They’re shifting the goalposts.” Bea took a sip of her brandy, bigger than usual. ”They’re now aiming for P5 in constructors’” She shook her head. ”You have doubts?” ”The only reason we’re even this close is because Cassie’s ship died in South Africa, Hyeon-Ae got punted in Italy and now the DSQ. If they hadn’t cheated and been shite, the idiots probably still would have gained on us.” ”Your ship also died in South Africa.” ”From P7 to nowhere, Cassie had trouble in qualy too so we got fucked. Next?” ”We also lost a big haul at Luna.” ”And they in Monaco.” ”Look on the bright side: Even with illegal ships, they still lost positions. Yes, we had a slow start, and it has been messy, but that is simply a fact of multinational collaborations. Zygon, on the other hand, can’t even cheat properly and one of their drivers looks ready to walk.” ”Hmm. Real bright.” Bea shifted on the deck couch, leaning back against her father and resting her head on his shoulder, ignoring the fact that on the back of her comatose revelation, she was tethering on the edge of walking out on the sport as a whole as well. ”Ava and I also sat in on the latest financial meeting. I don’t know how you and Eva deal with this. None of them have a damn clue! Investors this, CEO that,” Bea ranted on while subconsciously strangling an invisible chicken with her hands, having been stewing over this for over 12 hours now. ”Two hours before that, it was the engineering meeting. Reality check, know what Felix said? ‘Five plus years behind, on the level of civilian industries.’ His words! And I’m sitting there, essentially hearing ‘Do the improbable now so we can do the impossible tomorrow and make the investors happy,’ not a word or clue about how, just do it, who cares we’re a hundred years behind monkeys, and forcing myself to sit still and not throw a chair at them, because I’m halfway across the globe and for some reason, it’s illegal to throw chairs at stupid people!” She finally took a breath, ”At least I have the painkillers to fall back on as an excuse this time around, but Christ!” ”What do you mean ‘hundred years behind monkeys’?” The Ward patriarch aksed, surprised. ”Was the budget that small?” ”No. Apparently Ronaldo had been coasting on his past achievements and fell asleep on the laurels.” She spat more than said the previous Chief Technical Director’s name, ”No wonder he blew up like he did when León told him about Felix, I’d be mad too if someone just took away my free money trough...” ”I’ll speak to Alonso and Burkhart. If they have a handle on what the team’s missing the most, maybe we can help bridge that gap between seasons.” She reached up and hugged his shoulders, whispering with a giggle. ”Best. Dad. Ever!”
Monday July 26th, 2094, 09:56 Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)
The scene opened with Bea in a team polo, a pair of jeans and aviators from her sponsored line walking down a path in the Carrera Condor compound, a wide open pampa as the backdrop. ”Fair ladies and handsome gentlemen, welcome to the ranch again. As those of you who have seen last Saturday’s art stream have no doubt noticed, I no longer look and sound like I‘m dying.“ She pulled down on her collar slightly. Where seven days ago there had been a noticeable scar, now only unbroken skin remained. ”Now, what was the purpose of that medical procedure, you ask? Two things: One, I now have fully artificial lungs that are designed to contract more than meat lungs can, including the alveoli. No, I definitely didn’t have to look up that word five minutes ago, why do you ask? Anyway, now I can get the damn breathing fluid out of my lungs in under a minute with no outside assistance, and the tiny bit that remains anyway is inconsequential because synthetic tissue doesn’t get inflamed. Yay for comfort! Side note, I am now also immune to pneumonia. Neat! The second part is a series of ports around my torso for filling and draining body cavities with that same immersion liquid. In effect, I can now pull several hundred sustained Gs and feel like I’m sitting in my living room. What’s that?“ She held her hand up to her ear, ”Ah, just the centrifuge cursing my name. I’m not immune to crashes, it helps if the seat belts and survial cell do their job but if an object hits me going at mach fuck it’s still curtains, but forces don’t really bother me anymore. This is the final stage of liquid immersion, this is the stuff aerospace pilots were getting before being replaced by drones, the only thing that could pull more Gs than them were missiles. But that’s not all that’s new!” She gave the camera finger guns before the scene cut away…
…and back to Bea, sitting inside the ship, the drone hovering over the open cockpit, looking down. ”The alert among you have noticed some buttons missing, most notably on the throttle stick.” She pointed out the redesigned ‘engine power controller,’ ”We’re no longer using seven buttons to manage the ELS system! It’s all in here now.” The drone turned to center her in the frame as she pointed to her head with both hands, an ancient meme briefly flashing over the screen before the shot cut once again, this time to Bea walking through a hallway. ”And it’s thanks to Sarif Industries that not only does our neural link now work faster, it does so without any modifications of our implants or the ship’s hardware. Progress!” She made a wide gesture with both hands mimicking another old meme, the rainbow and the word ‘progress’ actually appearing between her hands. ”Now, my education ends at F equals M times A, and on a good day I might remember what a Newton is.” She pulled out a piece of paper out of her pocket to read, the side facing the camera reading ‘In case of a not good day.’ ”Kilogram meter over second squared, so I have no idea how that is possible. It would be amazing if I had access to someone who knew how it works and could explain it in a clear and concise manner. Someone like Mike Howe, the head of Sarif Industries’ neurocontrol division.” She reached a table and leaned against it, the camera panning to the other side to reveal - to the surprise of everyone whose IQ rivaled their shoe size - Mike Howe himself: A short, pale man one coat of bodypaint away from cosplaying a skeleton with a wrinkled shirt only tucked in on one side and a frosted tips haircut straight out of 1995 completing the look. ”Hi, Mike! Howe’s it going?” “It’s goin’ great, thanks for askin’.” Mike replied with a notable Texan drawl. ”So, can you explain the magic?” “To be as clear and concise as possible, the encodin’ algorithm - how the data is stored in the system - was really inefficient by today’s standards. Really, you guys were 15, 20 years behind the curve. Just by changin’ how it handles the data, we were able to up efficiency by almost 35%. More data in the same space, like goin’ from writin’ plain English to Shorthand. Speeds up information exchange between your head and the ship.” ”And that’s it, you did only that and the difference is night and day?” “See, thing is, if your startin’ point is this low, a small hop can feel like the world high jump record.” He shrugged, “Next season, we’ll have Zygon and and Southern Cross green with envy from the word ‘go’ with what we’ll have time and budget for.”
Another cut, this time in the ship bay wearing a disposable cleansuit over her clothes. ”But wait! There’s more!” Bea turned around, the drone following to bring an engine on a stand into frame behind her. ”The Alicorn lives!” She shouted with excitement, gesturing toward the engine with both arms. ”Yes it took half a season, we, uhhh… We cooked a little too hard - literally - and it needed some time to simmer down. But it’s live now, thanks to the legend himself, the man with the plan, Felix Burkhart.” The German, much more put together under his cleansuit than the previous featured specialist, entered stage right. ”Hello.” ”This thing isn’t the only one you took one look at and went ‘How have none of you figured this out yet?’ What else have you done?” ”While I appreciate the compliment, I wish it were that easy.” Felix chuckled, ”Let’s start with the engine, I see you’re excited about that. To recapitulate, the problems with that lay in cooling it sufficiently during the race. In the state it was in when I joined the team, there would have been a 40% chance of a minor failure and a 15% chance of something like what happened to Ava in Portugal, every race. The engineers have done all they could with active cooling, but since the races are run on a set time, we put a thermal capacitor in the ship. You’ll notice a small hump on the bottom, under the engine. We added a tank containing wax, specifically polyethylene-based wax sourced from a nearby sugar cane farm.” ”Well now I’m definitely not escaping the sugar rush jokes.” ”Haha, probably not. Wax has high latent heat - the amount of energy required to change it from one state of matter to another, in our case melt it. Since we can’t dissipate the heat produced by the engine fast enough, we’ll store some of it in the wax and cool the ship down after the session is finished. It has added some weight, but the Alicorn will be more than enough to compensate.” Felix explained, pointing out key parts on a simplified diagram of the ship projected onto the wall behind him. ”The mounts are an intentional weak point, so in the event of a crash, the wax tank will break off. If it were to rupture while containing a liquid phase, it will do so away from the ship. With increased funding given the team’s successes this season, we were finally able to transition from copper to silver wiring. In doing so, we have increased the efficiency of the energy system and saved some weight. Silver also offers less electrical resistance and higher thermal conductivity, meaning less heating, easier cooling and a more reliable system. This isn’t anything groundbreaking, we simply caught up. I’m honestly stunned by what the energy department has managed to do with what they were working with.” Technically speaking there was an issue with silver tarnishing, but that was something regular inspections could keep them well ahead of. ”No more budget builds?” Bea asked in jest. ”In a manner of speaking.” Felix nodded with a smile, ”Our last improvement concerns the AG unit. You’re looking at a complete overhaul of the flight control software handling it. No more just something that makes the ship float and protects you from g-forces and impacts, directional inputs will now make it pull the ship to one side or the other. This should eliminate the understeer drift, but we haven’t had time to implement the changes meant to make the ship more stable over uneven surface or through quick changes in direction.” ”All of that in this short time span?” Bea asked, genuinely giddy with the news. They fixed the problem she was struggling while retaining the one she could easily deal with. Ava was a lot less pleased by the order of things. ”What’s that you’re planning for the future?” ”In essence, rather than simply reacting to external stimuli, We plan to make it predict how the ship will be affected by turns or the surface under it and adjust accordingly, preempting the manual corrections you’re doing now.”
Last cut, Bea walking toward the simulator wearing her new racing limbs - A fullerene nanotube biopolymer composite, bright green wireframe shell with circular openings for maximum weight saving while retaining the toughness required to punch through the canopy if necessary - another benefit of the Sarif Industries partnership. ”And there you have it. A boatload of upgrades, right up my alley. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She pointed over her shoulder to the simulator with the biggest, most dopey grin imaginable before turning around and running off toward it like a kid after an ice cream truck as the video faded to the outro screen.
Friday July 23rd, 2094, 18:58 Buenos Aires, Argentina
”The Ranch” (Carrera Condor Formula AG Team headquarters)
A knock on the door heralded a rare visit at such an hour. His colleagues wouldn’t have knocked, so this was someone from outside the office. That made Lúcio Gallegos, the #18 team’s neural link specialist, swing his feet off the desk and silence the music - currently on a Brazilian rap rock track about brotherhood and working toward a common goal - blasting in his ears, removing his left ear bud to comply with the company policy. ”Hey, Lucho.” Bea greeted him as she poked her head around the door, a bit less chipper than she usually carried herself, but he chalked it up to it being late and after a cardio session. There was one area Ava had the younger driver beat with no sign of a change. ”Got a minute?”
Truth be told, Lúcio had been among those who bucked at Ward’s signing. He damn nearly quit over seeing homegrown talent get sidelined in such a way for an externist - not even someone from their own junior team - because of money after not even a year. Her being English was just icing on the carrot cake. He hated carrot cakes. But he soon had to admit the powers that be made the right choice. Japan and Italy would’ve been hard to argue against.
Alright, it also helped that she treated her whole side of the garage to a fancy dinner if they did well, and ‘doing well’ relative to what had been expected of them until this point was a frequent occurrence. In the last three months, that made five trips to a type establishment he’d only ever been to on his wedding and he didn’t even have to pay for the cab.
“Sure, what’s up?” ”I need a favor.” The rest of Bea appeared from behind the door, shutting it behind her. ”How far back do you keep neural link activity logs?” “Still have Joaquin’s saved, why?” ”Are they in a format understandable by mortals, or do I need to go through you to know what I’m looking at?” “You’ll get the gist of it, but you’d need either me or Nicol and Ivan to understand it fully. Why?” He demanded again. ”Could you get me copies of mine? Starting with Auckland.” “I can, but what is this about?” ”Just an idea. Probably wrong, but I want to try to look at it myself before I take up anyone else’s time with it.” She explained, taking her hand out of her pocket for the first time since she entered the office and placing three pieces of wax paper on Lúcio’s desk. VIP tickets to the BattleTech World Cup finals in Vegas, one adult and two children’s. Of course she of all people would’ve clocked that he and his kids wanted to go off of social media. “Done.” He nodded immediately, “Just races?” ”All of it.” She stressed, ”Race, qualy, practice, photo ops, any time it activated for even a fraction of a second.” “O…kaaaay. Thorough, whatever it is you’re doing. Got a server you want it on?” ”Porton Dawn.” “Done by breakfast.” ”Thank you.” She turned to leave, pausing in the door. ”Don’t stay up for too long, we’ll need you all sharp for Belgium. They won’t know what hit them.” She gave him a smile and a thumbs up before leaving.
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