Chapter 6

At the appointed meeting place twenty-seven almost identical looking cars had congregated, gleaming under the bright morning sun. Their unusual construction materials lent a specific reflective value to the fuselage that made them blinding to look at if the angle was wrong. Their positions in the small parking lot were haphazard. There seemed to be no order to their arrangement. To anyone who drove by the small church’s parking lot on a Saturday morning, it would appear to be an assemblage of the oddest cars ever built.

It was getting close to 9 a.m. but many of the folks that were here had been up since way before dawn to prepare. Their support staff and their vehicles were not far away in a mall parking lot, waiting for the race to begin. They would fall in behind the racecars after all of the racers had passed their location.

The town was so small that there hadn’t been a single place where they could fit all of the vehicles in the race and the vehicles that supported the racecars. The camera crews’ vehicles were lined along the road stretching from the church in the direction opposite of the racers’ course. One cameraman from each car’s team wandered between the cars, filming the events, ready to return to their crews when it was time for the race to begin.

Katrina stood with Dillon, waiting for Dr. Jenkins to arrive with the investor of their project and their driver. Her uniform was a typical racing coverall with flame retardant fibers and was light enough to be somewhat airy so that she wouldn’t sweat to death. Her long and slender body showed off the grey and brilliant orange as though she was ready to walk the runway in a fashion show. Her long brown hair flowed with curls that suggested that she had also stepped out of a salon moments earlier. None of which was true, of course, and her hair was always that way.

She paced wondering why the driver was still missing; worried that he wouldn’t arrive in time for the race to begin and that she would be the only participant for her team. They were to depart at nine-thirty, would she have to drive across the country alone? Katrina searched the lot to see if Dr. Jenkins had stopped at some other car by accident.

Frodes had the car up and running. It hummed flawlessly. Pride radiated from his entire body. The car had an electric propulsion system so humming was the proper term here. Most traditional racecars emitted such high decibel levels that they could be heard from many blocks away. Their car hummed so quietly that if you didn’t know it was on it would be hard to tell one way or the other.

Frodes had his blue team leader shirt on as a testament to his position with the project. He tinkered with the car’s software. Katrina couldn’t tell if he was tinkering just to make everyone at the race aware that he was an important team member on the project or if the car still needed work. She sincerely hoped it was the former. She would have to do some work on the road if there were still bugs that hadn’t been corrected before race time. But that’s what she was here for, that and to manage the weapon. Nervous butterflies grew by multiples of ten in her stomach over the lack of a driver.

The weapon… a thought occurred to Katrina. She should be checking out other cars to see their designs. That would help when she came up on one or was being attacked. Being prepared could mean the difference between winning and losing.

Dillon was wearing his ‘weapons specialist’ t-shirt. Many of the people from other project teams had commented on his shirt’s graphics. Most of their uniforms had only the name of their sponsors. Dillon was beaming from the attention. He wished he had been on the weapons team from the beginning and could say that he had helped design and build it, instead of only being there at the end to help install the hardware. But the others only knew that he was on the weapons team and that made him happy.

Katrina stormed over with a nervous intensity in her stride. People got out of her way when they saw her moving through the crowd. She butted into the small crowd of t-shirt admirers, took Dillon’s arm, and dragged him bodily away so they could converse privately.

“What are you doing?” Dillon asked in an upset tone.

“I just thought of something. We need to be looking closely at all the other cars’ weapons to get a handle on what we are up against.”

A look of understanding dawned on Dillon’s face.

Katrina followed with, “Yeah, you see what I’m talking about? I’m going to need some background on all of these weapons.”

“How am I going to do that? I’m not going to be sitting in the car with you.”

“We have radios.” Katrina said. “Check with Frodes about what kind of communications we have set up between him and the car’s headsets. If we can get a handle on what we’re up against, we will have a better chance.”

Dillon nodded and ran off. Katrina began a two-fold intensive search of the parking lot to take in the vehicles’ weapons and to find her driver.

To Katrina’s surprise there were many different car designs. Even though all the cars had the same bodies, some of the teams’ ideas for how they had built the substructures baffled her.

One team had obviously centered their design needs on the end run through the sand in the desert. The car looked more like a dune buggy with over large knobby tires in the rear and much smaller ones in the front. The cockpit had a downward slope which created a blind spot in the rear. Apparently no one had realized that because their weapon traveled on a rail system around the leading edge of the body and did not encompass the rear. They had even put their engine in the rear. Katrina thought this was a bad idea for many reasons.

Another team had taken a wildly different approach. The car was completely split down the center lengthwise. Each half sat slightly off center. It reminded Katrina of two motor cycles that had been stuck together. Their weapon system hung off an open window edge, another bad idea. They would have to be right next to the other car to engage it and their speed would have to exactly match their opponent in order for the laser to work properly.

As far as the weapons went, most of them had employed the same simple tactics. Either it was on a rail system or it was connected to the end of a long tube hanging out of a window. There was one that had a window mounted weapon that almost on the wheels. It was so low to the ground that any bump in the pavement would cause damage. She wondered how that would hold up in the desert.

Harvard Bertrand put his hand on Katrina’s shoulder. It scared her and she jumped. She had been inspecting racecars and hadn’t seen anyone approaching her. She didn’t know who he was and at first thought that her wandering eyes had gotten her in trouble.

“You are Katrina Morgantree I believe? I’m sorry if I didn’t pronounce your last name correctly,” he said.

Bertrand’s voice carried with it a stench of alcohol that made Katrina wave her hand in front of her nose involuntarily. She stepped back to ask who the hell he was. “I’m sorry I don’t know…”

Dr. Jenkins appeared at Bertrand’s side. “Oh good, you found each other. Mr. Bertrand, this is Katrina Morgantree. Katrina say hello to Harvard Bertrand, our investor.”

Katrina’s exuberant smile returned as her excitement for the project bubbled to the surface. The man was the reason that she had the opportunity to be here, after all. Katrina retook Bertrand’s hand and shook again.

“Katrina is also half of the team responsible for designing the weapon.” Jenkins added. Bertrand put his arm around Katrina as though they were close friends.

“I gotta tell ya, having the weapon on a multi-directional arm was genius. I think we are the only team with that design. I’m not an expert like you guys but it might be the single item that will win us the race. Do you know that some of the teams have professional drivers on them? Yes, they do” he nodded in affirmation and continued without waiting for her to respond. “Other teams have only students driving, winners of a lottery, or something like that.” Bertrand slurred the last word but continued on. “We have something even better.”

As if on cue, a tall handsome man approached. He wore a racing uniform that matched Katrina’s. He had dark wavy brown hair that hung over his face. He had just used his hand to brush the hair away from his eyes revealing them to be a deep brown with hazel overtones. Katrina gaped at him, then her mind switched gears and she hoped that he had been chosen for a better reason than his looks.

“Let me introduce you to my son, Richard Bertrand. He’s an up and coming racecar driver on the NASCAR circuit.”

Katrina was instantly glad that her thoughts had not spilled from her mouth a moment ago.

“Father, you really have to stop hanging on the pretty girls that way. What will mother think?” Richard rescued Katrina from his father’s arm and led him away. “Let me find you a good seat to watch from.”

“And get us another round my boy,” Harvard added.

Richard looked apologetically at Katrina before taking his father to a makeshift set of stands by the church parking lot’s exit. 

Jenkins approached Katrina. “You know, sometimes people with money are…” Frodes ran up with Dillon on his heels. Jenkins never finished his thought. They both tried to talk over each other.

“Stop. I can only understand one of you at a time,” Jenkins said. He pointed to Frodes first.

Frodes started. “I did a final diagnostic on the transmission. There are still three codes.”

Jenkins grimaced and said “Call back the team. Tell them to begin transport of the backup transmission to the first overnight location and we need everyone on the install team to meet us there. Plan on a long night. Dillon your turn.”

Dillon fidgeted. “I have photos of all the other weapons. I think we have the best design! I just need to send them to Katrina’s phone.”

Jenkins looked at Katrina. “Your idea?”

Katrina nodded sheepishly.

Jenkins’ laughed jovially. “Now I know I picked the right person to sit in that seat!”

At three minutes before the green light none of the cars had lined up into any kind of order. They still occupied their haphazard positions in the parking lot. Richard sat with both hands on the wheel studying all of the controls and electronic displays, trying to understand what they all meant.

Katrina was struggling with the headset for the weapon. It was live, and every time she changed its position on her head the arm on the roof changed its position. She was trying to find the override to keep it still so that the other teams wouldn’t see all of their design’s functions.

The movement of the weapon got Richard’s attention and he finally turned away from the dashboard. “What are you doing? I’m trying to concentrate here.”

“Don’t worry, I fixed the problem.” Katrina said.

They heard the announcer shout through the bullhorn. It was Grant Phyindress. “One minute.”

Richard pounded his hand on the dashboard. “There’s a transmission warning light on. There must be something wrong with the way you guys built this thing.” He banged his hand on the dash again. One of the screens flickered.

Katrina put her hand over the dash to thwart his next attempt. “Stop it. We have another transmission coming so it can be replaced tonight. Just baby it today and...”

“Ten…”

“This is an automatic, why would you build a racecar that’s an automatic?” Richard asked, disgusted.

“Nine…”

“You know how to drive it, right?” Katrina asked, mystified at his irritation over a transmission that should be easier to drive.

“Eight…”

“Of course I know how to drive an automatic but a racecar is supposed to have a standard transmission.”

“Seven…”

“Suck it up and we’ll deal with it tonight when the team takes this one out.” Katrina began to shout.

“Six…”

“What if this one doesn’t make it that far?” Richard blurted out.

“Five…”

“Don’t worry about it, just drive like you’re supposed to!” Katrina shouted.

“Four…”

“And what are you supposed to do? I don’t need a backup driver.”

“Three…”

“I’m supposed to burn a hole in your head if you don’t shut up and drive!” Katrina was getting very upset.

“Two…”

They both stared at each other full of hate.

“One…”

Richard turned away. “If you want to get out now, it won’t hurt my feelings one bit.”

Katrina turned her head towards her new driver and tried to burn a hole in his head with just her eyes. She furled her brow and pursed her lips. This was not going to be a good trip.

The bullhorn sounded as Phyindress shouted “Go!” and a girl in very little clothing waved a green flag.

Richard put his foot to the floor then pulled it back immediately. No one in front of them had moved more than an inch. The beginning of the race was having the entire lot of cars negotiate out of the lot from their positions. There was no lead position or line, they had to figure it out and jockey their positions, like leaving a drive-in after the movie was over. It was another challenge designed for the engineers, another puzzle for them to solve.

Quickly the lot became very congested. No one wanted to let the other cars out ahead of them, but neither did they have enough space to allow for their own passage. That’s when the weapons came out.

Since everyone was so close to each other, this was the perfect opportunity to try out the technology. Those who had window mounted devices worked feverishly to get their systems fixed in place and functional.

The crowd of investors in the stands stood and began shouting instructions to the respective drivers. Camera crews that were still on foot had no problem keeping up with the drama as it unfolded.

One of the cars that had angled themselves to be next to leave the parking lot had a window mounted laser. The passenger was hanging half out of his window making the final connections when the device caught on fire. All of the camera people were running between the cars to get in closer.

Unfortunately positions of the cameramen wouldn’t allow any cars to move unless they chose to run them over. The whole event was becoming a catastrophe and would soon be a tragic accident scene unless someone helped the drivers of the burning car.

Smoke began to billow from the window of the burning vehicle. Conscientious individuals had run in to extricate their team members. Investors were still shouting from the bleachers and in some cases were running toward their cars to give orders to their teams.

Bertrand’s team sat transfixed. They didn’t know what to do. The exit was hopelessly blocked. Even if the fire was put out, it would be a while before they could leave. Suddenly a red light came to life on the dash and a terrible alarm echoed through the cabin. Richard put his hands over his ears to block the noise.

“What the hell is that?” He shouted.

“The alarm is telling us that another car has a weapon lock on our car!” Katrina shouted.

Another alarm went off.

“That makes two weapons locks! We have to get out of here.”

Richard Bertrand was in trouble. He had never actually driven this car before. His head turned this way and that trying to find which button would turn off the alarm. It looked like the race was over and he had never even left the parking lot. He knew nothing about the configuration of all the instruments on the dashboard or what the LED screens showed for information.

He only knew how to drive. This car had a gas pedal, a steering wheel and a break if he needed it. He had no idea what all the dials and numbers changing before him meant, or why the engineers had chosen to put an automatic transmission in a racecar. An automatic transmission that had already tripped the warning light. Any racer would tell you that you couldn’t trust an automatic tranny. What did these pencil pushers know about racecars?

Bertrand gave up trying to shut off the alarm and put the gear shift into reverse. He shouted at Katrina, “Racecars are not supposed to have an automatic transmission.”

Katrina knew what was going to happen next. She shouted over the alarm. “Don’t stomp on the gas! If we crack our body we can do the same thing as the weapon would do, disable our car and disqualify us. Coast over to the bumper of the car behind us and push him back.” Another alarm came on indicating a third weapon was now trained on them. “We really need to leave.”

Bertrand rolled back and hit the car behind him softly as he was told, then he pushed the accelerator more firmly. One of the alarms immediately ceased. “How much power does this engine have?”

“Why?” Katrina asked as she was trying to set up a weapon strike of her own.

“Because I’m going to push two cars out of our way.”

“You have almost 400 horsepower on demand. Just be careful, don’t move off the push bar, and move straight back. I need three seconds minimum. Don’t go too fast. I’m going to shut one of these bastards down.”

“400 hundred horsepower?” Richard shouted with surprised excitement.

“Just go, damn it!” Katrina shouted over the alarms.

Team MIT’s car started to move further than the initial strike against the bumper. The car behind was losing ground against the more powerful engine of the MIT car. All of the alarms had shut down now. Cars on either side of them were changing positions to realign their weapons.

The car behind them was most ordinary in the way that it looked. The rail system for their weapon was pointed to the rear of the MIT car. Lucky for the MIT team, the extra horsepower that they had allowed for features that the other cars didn’t have, and one for the push bar on both the front and the rear of the vehicle. Today this was a godsend. They moved backwards crushing the other car’s laser assembly, bending the rail track under the pressure and ending their attempt to disabling Bertrand’s car.

Richard eased down on the accelerator until the rear tires began to smoke. Slowly the car being pushed began to move backwards. The 400 horsepower showed its teeth until the car they were pushing struck the car behind it with a sickening crunch.

Katrina turned her visor towards the vehicle on her side of the car. The arm of their weapon spun above them to align itself with where her sight was focused. She used her controller to set up her shot. When she thought she was ready she shouted, “Burn baby, burn!”

The arm that sat on top of the MIT car extended its head towards the approaching car and fired a projectile with suction cups at its tip from the arm’s wrist. The suction cups stuck to the body of the intended car at an odd angle on its roof.

Katrina was so happy that it worked she shouted, “Yes!”

A light came on over the arm and smoke began to pour out of the fuselage where the laser was burning into it. Their drivers were all shouting now, trying to figure out how to get it off their car. They struggled to move their car away but the laser stayed put. Katrina’s design had taken movement into account. The passenger of the car next to her was now trying to use his hands to reach the position on the roof where the laser was burning, but he was still unable to touch it. The driver gave up trying to move away and climbed out of his window with a wrench in one hand to try to knock the laser free before their engine died but they were too late. A red light filled their cockpit indicating that they were now a disabled car.

Richard shouted his excitement as he continued to push the two cars backwards until they hit a third car. Now the MIT car came to a stop and only the tires continued to move, spewing copious amounts of acrid smoke. Bertrand turned his wheel and started the whole process over again except this time moving forward towards the vehicle to the right that had been disabled. Katrina worked several buttons on her controller and retracted the laser head.

Camera men were running away from the fire to capture the new developments. Investors were running to get out of the way of the MIT car. Clearly Bertrand was not going to slow down if they got in his way.

Bertrand moved the car that they were pushing until it began to slide away off the push bar. Because it had no power to its engine it was sliding ominously toward the side of the MIT car. The occupants of that car were shouting for their lives thinking that their car would roll and that they would be crushed. Bertrand continued on his mission without thinking about the dangers involved.

Katrina screamed for him stop knowing that he would crack their fuselage if the car they were pushing spun and hit them. Bertrand pulled a maneuver using the break and the gas together to spin their car to match the sideways turn of the vehicle that they were moving.

Through the lenses of the cameramen it appeared that the MIT car was computer controlled with four wheel steering and unlimited maneuverability. Their car was on course to move the dead car back to its original position except with its nose pointing in the opposite direction.

Without notification Bertrand slammed on the brakes and hit the gear shift so that it landed on reverse. Bertrand threw his head back to see where he needed to go and slammed on the accelerator again. The MIT car traversed the entire parking lot in reverse at high speed until they reached the end.

Each parking space in the lot had a concrete abutment at the end closest to the street. Bertrand stopped and decided that if he wanted to leave he had to go forward. He turned the car around and drove until he was right up to one of them aiming so that the passenger wheel could go through the gap.

“How much clearance do we have?”

“Not enough to clear the concrete.” Katrina said.

Bertrand grunted in response. He rolled slowly until the driver front tire bumped into the abutment. He goosed the accelerator and the engine pushed the car over the top easily.

“This is going to sound bad but at least we’ll be out of this fucking mess.” He accelerated again so the car was going fast enough to allow the back wheel to pop over the concrete and not get stuck. A loud grinding noise issued from the rocker panel on the driver side as it slid over the concrete.

Katrina screamed until the back wheel popped over the abutment into the air and they landed hard against the grass. The weapon arm bounced around as the car landed, striking the roof of the car. It sounded bad.

Katrina’s eyes went to the roof in concern.

Bertrand didn’t stop to see what had happened to the car. He drove over the grass until he reached the pavement. Precious time had been lost while they had been hung up in the parking lot. He had no idea how many other cars had made it out.

Katrina turned to see what was happening behind them. To her amazement she saw the car that looked like a dune buggy do the same thing that Bertrand had done, but their higher ground clearance had allowed them to go over the abutment without any trouble. And to her surprise, the car that was split down the middle was in the process of separating into its two halves. When it was done it resembled the two motorcycles and reconnected end to end. It easily drove between the concrete barriers and followed the dune buggy out to the road to finally begin the race.

Katrina realized then and there that they had some real competition. The other teams had some formidable designs. She was both very impressed and very worried about their chances.

q�~���P

Next Chapter: Chapter 7