Jason and the two Renault drivers for 3rd. And trailing behind them, only just managing to keep inside the 15-second rule, the General Motors factory team driver, an older Australian driver named Mark Skaife in car 102.
In fact, the 15-second rule performed an admirable service: it kept all of them bunched close together - within striking distance - so that when the chance came, every driver was in a position to strike.
Then the chance came.
When two things happened at once:
First, Angus Carver tried to overtake Alessandro Romba as they roared up the side of Ward’s-Randall’s Island on Lap 110. Carver tried to sneak inside Romba, but Romba held his line stubbornly and as they hit the left-hander at the top of the island, they collided - badly - and separated, lurching wildly in either direction, both of them hitting the nearby demag lights.
The other thing that happened (at the exact same time) was this: as they shot up the East River behind the two leaders, Fabian and Trouveau, working together, boxed Jason in on the left-hand side of the track, so that when they hit Ward’s-Randall’s Island, Jason had only two options: crash into Ward’s Island, or go left - toward the second meat grinder.
Jason went left. And he accelerated. Gave it everything he had. He’d seen the meat grinders enough on TV over the years and every year the commentators said the same thing: you couldn’t beat them at anything less than top speed.
So he hit the gas and rushed round the base of Ward’s/Randall’s Island and beheld the entry to the second meat grinder.
It looked tiny.
Really tiny.
This would be like firing a bullet into a keyhole. The Argonaut rushed toward the tiny opening. Its speedometer topped 800 km/h…
805 km/h…then 810 km/h before - VOOOOOOM!
The Argonaut blasted into the tight cylindrical tunnel - and immediately the tunnel began to iris inwards. Jason leaned forward in his seat.
The Bug looked up at the rapidly ‘collapsing’ tunnel all around them.
Then the irising walls were so close, they started sparking against the Argonaut‘s wingtips and Jason thought his car was almost certainly going to die when - whoosh - they blasted out into dazzling sunshine again and found themselves…
…in the lead.
With only ten laps to go.
The Bug exclaimed something.
Jason smiled. ‘I’m telling Mum you swore.’
But the jackals weren’t far behind.
Because of their collision, Romba and Carver were cactus, and they were quickly swamped by Trouveau and then Fabian and then Skaife. (Romba and Carver would ultimately duke it out for the still-important 2 points available for the 5th placed racer, fighting right up until they were both eliminated by the 15-second rule - in the end, Romba outlasted Carver.)
Meanwhile, up front, it was Jason against the rest - and with ten laps to run, he now had a golden opportunity to win the race!
And from that moment, with adrenaline coursing through his entire body, Jason flew nine of the best laps of his life.
The two Frenchmen couldn’t believe that he’d come out the other side of the meat grinder. They charged with a vengeance.
It was Trouveau - needing the points more than Fabian - who charged harder, and when he stormed through the first meat grinder on Lap 115, he was suddenly hammering on Jason’s tail.
The last four laps of the race would be four of the toughest Jason had ever experienced.
Trouveau hounded him.
But Jason took every turn perfectly.
Well, almost every turn. On each lap, Trouveau gained on him at Liberty’s Elbow. The French driver seemed to know it was Jason’s weak point - it was as if he could smell Jason’s fear. He knew that Jason took it gingerly, frightened of the G-forces, frightened of knocking himself out.
And as they commenced the last lap of the race - Lap 120 of 120 - Trouveau was travelling almost alongside the Argonaut.
And deep in his heart of hearts, Jason knew what Trouveau was going to do.
Trouveau was going to take him at the Elbow.
Up the East River, following the safe route now. Into the narrower Harlem River, under all the bridges spanning it - before blasting out into the Hudson, down its long wide straight, hitting top speed, before suddenly, she came into view.
Lady Liberty.
Jason saw her and grimaced.
He knew the score - the Bug had done the math after Romba and Carver had been eliminated: an 8-point 2nd-placed finish wouldn’t be enough to beat Carver on the overall ladder. To go through to the next race, Jason needed the full 10 points. He needed to win.
Death or glory, he thought.
And as he hit the Elbow, he knew which one he’d choose.
Into the Elbow, banking left, their cars almost vertical, banking hard.
And then Trouveau - as expected - made his move.
But this time, Jason held his line.
And Trouveau was a little shocked.
Halfway round the Elbow - and Jason’s vision began to blur at the edges.
7-Gs…
Further round the enormous hairpin…and his vision began to darken.
I can make this… he told himself.
I can make this…
8-Gs…
Blinking. Trying…so hard…
8.5…
…to…stay…conscious…
Trouveau was almost beside him now, but the Frenchman couldn’t get past.
9-Gs…
And Jason’s face was pressed against his skull, his cheeks sucking backwards, his teeth clenched hard and he realised with a thrill that this time - yes! - he was going to make it…
Then he blacked out.
CHAPTER FIVE
NEW YORK CITY, USA (SATURDAY)
RACE 3: THE PURSUIT
LAP: 120 OF 120
Jason awoke - to the sound of ecstatically cheering crowds…and to someone banging on his helmet.
It was the Bug hammering on his helmet, trying to rouse him.
As for the crowd, they seemed to be cheering: ‘We love the Buuuuug! We love the Buuuuug!’
Jason was sitting in the Argonaut, but it was stationary now - caught in a Dead Zone - hovering above the low waves of the East River, but past the Finish Line.
Jason looked about himself in astonishment - he had no recollection of how he had got from Liberty’s Elbow to the
Finish Line.
Then he saw an action replay on a giant-screen TV on the riverbank: saw the Argonaut blast out of the Elbow, levelling out of its high-banking turn ahead of the Vizir, and roar past the camera.
And there, depicted in glorious slow-motion on the television image, leaning over Jason from behind, clutching at the Argonaut‘s steering wheel, guiding the car over the last few hundred metres, was the one student at the International Race School who had survived a 9-G banking turn.
The Bug.
More than that, the Argonaut had retained its speed from the turn (evidently, despite losing consciousness, Jason had kept leaning on his thrusters), and with the Bug at the controls, it had outrun Trouveau to the Brooklyn Bridge!
The Argonaut, with its pilot unconscious and its navigator leaning over him to steer, had won the damn race!
Now the Bug was smiling broadly. He explained to Jason what had happened.
‘I what?’ Jason asked. ‘I kept all our thrusters on, even after I knocked myself out?’
The Bug nodded, added something.
‘You could say that,’ Jason replied. ‘You could say I wanted to win this race really badly.’
The points immediately went up on the leaderboard.
10 points for Jason.
8 for Trouveau.
6 for Fabian, who took 3rd place easily.
4 for the Australian Skaife - a fine effort, but not enough to take him to the final round.
And a most unusual 2 points for Alessandro Romba, for his 5th placing; while the USAF pilot, Carver, got zero for coming 6th.<
br />
And suddenly, with the two USAF pilots both scoring no points at all and the overall leader scoring poorly, the scoreboard told a new tale:
LIBERTY MANHATTAN THE THE TOTAL
DRIVER CAR SUPERSPRINT GATE RACE PURSUIT QUEST POINTS
1. ROMBA, A (1) 10 6 2 18
Lockheed-Martin Racing
2. FABIAN (17) 9 7 6 22
Team Renault
3. TROUVEAU, E (40) 8 3 8 19
Team Renault
4. CARVER, A (24) 7 10 0 17
USAF Racing
5. LEWICKI, D (23) 6 9 DNF 15
USAF Racing
6. SKAIFE, M (102) 5 4 4 13
GM Factory Team
7. HASSAN, R (2) 4 0 0 4
Lockheed-Martin Racing
8. REIN, D (45) 3 1 X 4
Boeing-Ford Team
9. CHOW, A (38) 2 DNF X 2
China State Racing
10. REITZE, R (51) 1 2 X 3
Porsche Racing
11. RIVIERA, P (12) 0 5 DNF 5
Lombardi Racing Team
12. CHASER, J (55) 0 8 10 18
Lombardi Racing Team
13. REITZE, H (50) DNF X X
Porsche Racing
14. MARTINEZ, C (44) DNF X X
Boeing-Ford Team
15. PETERS, B (05) DNF X X
GM Factory Team
16. IDEKI, K (11) DNF X X
Yamaha Racing Team
All of a sudden, Angus Carver had gone from leading on 17 points, to being eliminated on 17 points, while Fabian - wily Fabian - had shot up the scoreboard with his solid 6-point finish, surging into first place on 22 points, three points clear of his nearest rival, his teammate, Etienne Trouveau.
But most astonishing of all was Jason, who with his massive 10-point bonanza, found himself on 18 points, and in the top four, leapfrogging three racers with one big jump. The Bug had been right: that final turn had made all the difference; 8 points would not have been enough.
Jason couldn’t believe it.
His parents couldn’t believe it.
The crowds couldn’t believe it.
The commentators couldn’t believe it.
Thanks to the Bug, the one and only Bug, the Argonaut was in the fourth and final race of the New York Masters.
CHAPTER SIX
NEW YORK CITY, USA (SATURDAY EVENING)
That evening, a silence fell on the New Jersey home of Jason’s cousins.
After Team Argonaut‘s efforts in the Pursuit earlier that day, one would have expected an uproarious celebration, with champagne corks popping and soft drink spraying.
But no, that wasn’t happening tonight.
The weight of it all had finally hit home; the magnitude of what Team Argonaut had achieved this week. After three ultra-tough pro-level races, tomorrow Jason, the Bug and Sally would be participating in one of the most prestigious events in world racing - and also one of the most dangerous.
Everyone sat around the dinner table in contemplative silence: Jason, the Bug, Henry and Martha Chaser, the Chaser cousins, Sally McDuff and her family, and Ariel Piper.
Indeed, the silence - a grim hush of fear and awe - was deafening.
The only one who wasn’t fazed by it all was Scott Syracuse, but then, he’d been here before in a professional capacity and so was used to the pressure.
‘You know…’ Syracuse said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, ‘the other racers, they’re only men.’Others in the room kept their heads bowed. Jason alone looked up at his teacher.
Syracuse shrugged. ‘People see racers like Fabian and Romba, and they think they’re superhuman. Men of steel. Bold champions who fly at astronomical speeds without fear or nerves. But they’re not superheroes. Oh, no they’re not. They are ordinary men, with fears and loves and weaknesses like you and me.
‘This is why we love sportspeople - from Tiger Woods to Donald Bradman to Muhammad Ali - they handle a kind of pressure that most people cannot even imagine. They stand on a golf course or in a stadium or in a ring, with hundreds of thousands of viewers watching them and somehow their legs don’t fall from under them. And then - then - they keep standing and, under all that scrutiny, they do what they have practised for so long and they do it well. That’s why we love them. We think we would fail, and yet they don’t. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t afraid.
‘Jason, Bug, Sally. As your teacher, I’ve watched you develop this past year; watched you grow from young wide-eyed hopefuls with some talent…into racers. When you started with me, you were good. Now you are great. Great at your individual duties, and a great team - from going to lessons when you were too tired to think; to pitching in together to perform manual pit stops; to pushing your car over the Line; to the Bug taking over the steering when it was necessary.
‘You’re racers now. And believe me, you’re ready for this. You may not think so, but as someone who knows racing, trust my judgement: you are ready to stand up in front of the world, and your legs will not fall out from under you. You’ve done the work, you have the skill and you most certainly have the desire. It’s time for you to do what you came here to do: win the Masters.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
NEW YORK CITY, USA (SUNDAY)
RACE 4: THE QUEST
‘Do you have it, Mum?’ Jason asked as they arrived in the Sixth Avenue pits for the fourth and final race of the Masters series.
Martha Chaser opened her purse for him to see inside, and sure enough, there it was, his ‘trophy’ for the Quest.
The format of a quest race is simple: all racers head out from the Start-Finish Line to a faraway point, where they pick up their chosen trophy - it can be anything really, but usually racers choose something of significance to them: a medal they won once, perhaps, or their national flag.
Either way, the first racer to come back across the Start-Finish Line with his or her trophy in their possession wins. The twist comes in the journey itself - and the journey in the Masters’ Quest was a particularly difficult one.
Typically, Jason’s mother had fashioned a very appropriate trophy for Team Argonaut to use in Race 4.
‘I think we have to give it to one of the officials,’ Jason said, taking it from her.
As they reached their pit bay, he handed it to the race official who would transport all four racers’ trophies to the farthest point of the Quest course.
The Argonaut sat in its pit bay, glistening, shining, waiting. It was as if the little blue-white-and-silver car was alive, energised, ready to go, stamping its hoofs in anticipation of the challenge ahead of it today.
Jason eyed his car with pride, thinking of all they had been through together - from the Regional Championships in the swamps of Carpentaria, to his epic efforts at Race School: the gruelling tournament, taking on the Clashing Bergs in the final race; and now, his feats here in New York.
He patted the Argonaut‘s left wing.
‘Well, car,’ he said, ‘here we are again. One more race, that’s all I ask of you. One more race. Let’s do it.’
And with a final pat, he strode away from the car to go and get suited up for the race.
He never saw the tiny explosive device - it was the size of a pinhead - attached to the tailfin of his beloved Argonaut.
It had been placed there during the night by a lightfingered hand…a hand that had paid off one of the security guards to gain access to the pit area…a hand that had laid a similar device on another Argonaut once before.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NEW YORK CITY, USA (SUNDAY)
RACE 4: THE QUEST
SECTION: OUTBOUND JOURNEY
The four cars sat on Fifth Avenue, all aimed northward. Alessandro Romba - in his silver-and-black Lockheed
Martin.
Fabian and Etienne Trouveau in their purple-and-gold Renaults.
And Jason - in the Argonaut.
This is what it came down to.
Four contenders.
All within four points of each other.
> Romba, Trouveau and Jason had to win Race 4 - and have some other placings go their way - in order to take
the Masters.
Fabian, however - three points clear of his nearest rival - could come 2nd, garnering 8 points, and still take
the overall title.
* * *
The course for the Quest was a long and arduous one - taking the racers all the way across New York State, right to Niagara Falls on the US-Canadian border. There the racers would collect their trophies from a platform suspended high above the falls and begin the journey back to Manhattan.
Now, while the journey both ways was extraordinarily difficult, it was also astonishingly beautiful, but in an unusual way.
For the main feature of the course was a superlong underground highway known as the Endless Tunnel. Before the invention of hover cars, the US Government had started construction of an underground superhighway designed to go from the Canadian border all the way down to Florida, to be known as Superhighway Two.
But then along came hover cars and the project was abandoned: and only the section through New York State was completed - and even then, only roughly.
What remained was a rough-hewn network of long octagonal tunnels cutting through all sorts of underground environments - old mines, subterranean chasms, rivers and waterfalls. Indeed, the construction of the highway had led to the discovery of the now-famous Twin Caves, the largest underground caverns in the world.
Naturally, the Endless Tunnel was now equipped with many small ion waterfalls that cut the tunnel’s width in half. Plus lots of single-file-only bridges over the underground gorges and rivers, and not a few dead-end forks: navigators were provided with a map of the Tunnel and their role in the race was crucial.