Impulse, стр. 78
“In driver’s terms, it means that steering can be locked so the car passes through the corner at a steady speed.”
“Precisely.”
Larry returned the feed to the action. “At the exit, the SS is actually faster than the SF, which gives her an advantage as we enter the consecutive hairpins at the third quarter of the downhill.”
“She’ll have to make her move soon, or this race will certainly go to Ace.”
“Regardless of his lead, he’s being driven to the limit. Notice how close RC gets to his bumper when they break into a corner.”
“I’m afraid she’s forgetting to conserve her tires by pushing the heavier Super Snake to the limit. She needs the extra traction in the end if she has any hope of winning.”
“Again with the final predictions.” Larry frowned. “This race isn’t over yet.”
“Who’s being biased now?” Cornelius grinned at his friend.
“They’re both breaking hard into the next corner, but the Super Snake looks sloppier into the turn than the Street Fighter.”
“There, she’s losing grip on her tires. That slide, although small, can mean half a second late when exiting the curve.”
Larry shook his head. “She can’t afford even that much in a race like this. Ace is merciless when inside a car. You can almost say he has a split personality.” He pulled a sheet from the stack by his side. “The next six hairpins are being brought to us by the Intermediate Insurance Group. If you’re car isn’t insured, how can you sleep at night?”
“Those things are getting lamer by the minute.”
“Don’t mock the advertisers.”
Cornelius whistled low. “I seemed to have gotten scolded, folks. Beware the angry commentator.”
Ignoring the dig, Larry stood up and slammed his hands on the control panel. “While my partner was busy blabbering, the Super Snake just passed the Street Fighter on the inside of the first hairpin.”
“Her lead doesn’t last for long. No matter how evasive she’s driving, Ace still takes the lead on the straight before the next curve.” Cornelius snapped his suspenders. “That’s superior driving technique for you, folks.”
“She’s attempting to try again, using the inside.”
“Ace cuts her off.”
“Whoa! In an amazing show of control over such a heavy car, RC manages to take the outside and passes the SF once again.”
Cornelius jumped to his feet too, watching the battle as closely as the crowd that barely moved at the base and along the guardrails. Everyone stared at the screens. Motor heads stood together and murmured to each other. The rally girls held one another, squirming at every corner tackled by the two drivers at high speeds as if they were in the cars. The hangers-on stared, slack-jawed. The high-pitched squeal of tires became their music for the night.
“This is turning out to be a real dogfight!” Larry practically vibrated with excitement. The floor of the studio no longer felt solid beneath his feet. “The SF refuses to allow the SS her lead. This is the third hairpin, and with the speeds they’re going, it’s a miracle the cars haven’t crashed into each other yet.”
“The Super Snake’s tires can’t take much more of this.” Cornelius wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “She must be feeling the understeer as she enters the corners. And continuing to drift the car can only make matters worse.”
“Ace slides his right side into the gutters to slingshot through the corner.”
“RC copies the move, but I’m not liking that tail swish at the exit. Her fingers must be numb from gripping the steering wheel hard just to maintain control.”
“The Super Snake spins on the track!” Larry covers his mouth in shock.
Cornelius grabs his partner’s shoulder. “Can she regain control? That’s two three-sixty spins in a row.”
“She’s fighting it.”
The rear tires of the Super Snake cried, sending smoke up to the night sky. Its rear end fishtailed as the nose found the right direction again. The gasp among the crowd, who understood the kind of skill it took to get a car to stop spinning in the right direction, was palpable to those who inhaled sharply because the feat was incredible. They didn’t need to understand a way a car worked to grasp how amazing RC’s driving skill was.
“Accelerating into the spin allowed her to keep control,” Cornelius said, more in awe than sharing information with those who weren’t in a daze by what they just witnessed to listen. “She’s frightening. That technique and skill becomes innate, almost instinctual after years of grueling practice.”
“If she ever dreams of winning this race against Ace, she needs to hustle through the last two hairpins. The final quarter is one of speed and precision, both skills Ace possesses in spades.” Larry never removed his gaze from the screens.
“She’s a car’s length behind. Can she catch up?”
“The corners from here on are tighter and the straights steeper. If you’re right and she’s running on pure instinct, then she’ll find the right line to get to Ace before they enter the final leg.”
In an engine roar heard all the way to the base of the mountain, the Super Snake pounced. It tackled every new corner with speed and efficiency, gaining every inch it needed to get close enough to the blazing Street Fighter that hadn’t made a mistake yet during the entire Impulse Cup. If there was ever a time that Ace drove a perfect line, it was against RC. She pushed him to the limits of his knowledge of the downhill. She kept on his bumper the entire time, not allowing him to pull away for long. They passed each other several times, headlights flashing in each other’s side view mirrors.
Their cars sang, delighted by the challenge of racing against each other. They reveled in the skill of their drivers, answering every request to turn, skid, swerve, and drift with terrifying accuracy. The road served as their battlefield, leaving rubber instead of