Debutant. Chapter 13. Time for change. Part 1

This novel is fictional; there is no need to look for intersections with historical events. This is a continuation of “Debutant” by Nikita Savelyev, the first readers of which were readers of F1News.ru…

Chapter 13. Time for change. Part One

First training session

– Rodrigo Fernandez, three minutes fifty-six seconds and two tenths!

– First!

– It won’t be long…

– Dubois, fifty-five and eight!

– It is more serious, but not dangerous.

Murphy approaches…

– Fifty-seven and one. What’s wrong with him?

“In the next round he will blow the record, you will see.”

– Stanton? How many?

– Fifty-six and four.

– Take a closer look at Dubois, it looks like he’s dropped a few more tenths.

– I’m not there yet.

– Murphy? Fifty-seven exactly. Suspicious.

– He just acts according to his own program, he doesn’t want to play our games.

– All the better for us.

– Look, look, who’s there?

Peter Bridge and Carlo Rinaldo stood at the very edge of the track, pushing each other in the side, excitedly discussing the results of the pilots rushing past and constantly looking at the timekeepers’ stopwatches, from which they exploded with exclamations of joy or disappointment. .

“Serious men,” Georges shuddered. – They act like garden boys.

“Don’t be boring,” Henry interrupted cheerfully. – Especially on a day like this.

Normally, Friday races do not cause such an unhealthy stir among the pilots and take place in a calm working atmosphere: the drivers study the track, watch the behavior of the car, select the optimal settings, experiment with the ratios of the gear ratios in the gearbox, and monitor the behavior of the equipment with full and empty tanks. And for those quick seconds to get to the starting line, the main battle takes place on Saturday. But the organizers of the Belgian stage decided to diversify the routine day. I must admit, in an original way. For the fastest lap on Friday they have set a special prize: one hundred bottles of excellent champagne. And the competition on the track became noticeably fresher, the pilots competed with each other for the best result of the day in the hope of enjoying a carbonated drink.

– The asphalt is warming up, in fifteen minutes the sun will be at its peak – I ran. – Rinaldo patted Bridge on the shoulder. – Meet me at the track.

And the Italian, holding his helmet, very easily, like a teenager, rushed to his pits. Despite losing the overall lead when finishing behind Murphy in Germany, it was Carlo who was the hero of the day in the paddock. Naturally, during the break between the two stages, the Italian again visited the other side of the ocean, this time to participate in the race on the “Kirpichnitsa”. And he won triumphantly – he put the skeptics to shame, completely defeating the Americans on their original battlefield. Carlo beamed with happiness, gave endless interviews, joked incessantly, wondered what he would spend the fantastic profits on, and it seems that he himself was already tired of talking about his benefits for the hundredth time. But in Monetti’s team itself, everything did not go so smoothly.

– Why don’t you fight for champagne? – Henry urged his now former partner. – I wouldn’t deny myself the pleasure.

“Let the young people have their fun,” Georges replied condescendingly. “Come on, you better look at my beauty.” Want to?

– Certainly.

Fortunately, Spencer’s accident had no serious consequences; Jeffrey escaped with minor injuries such as broken ribs, severe bruises and a concussion. But he will have to skip the next stages. Thomson, without thinking twice, offered the vacated cockpit to Georges, and he accepted with great pleasure. For once, the Frenchman beamed with a brand new coin and his satisfied face could compete with Rinaldo himself.

Henry looked around Georges’ new car with interest and said softly:

– The body is made of aluminum, the wheels are made of magnesium alloy, the engine and gearbox are slightly raised, the pipes are protected from stones, the air intake has an interesting shape. I admit that Thomson has made progress over the years; our cars are mammoths compared to this one.

“This is a fundamentally new model, the transmission now has five gears,” Georges suggested. – The engine has direct injection, twenty plus horses at a time.

“Well, congratulations,” Henry shook hands with Georges.

“If you only knew how much I miss fast cars, how frustrating it is to be at the end of the starting field.

– I understand you perfectly, a few races were enough for me.

“Don’t tell Baker, he’ll be angry,” Georges realized.

– It’s covered. You have food. OKAY OKAY. A joke. You can go without eating,” Henry raised his palms and noticed the Frenchman’s face stretching.

It is an incredible shame that Thomson’s choice did not fall on Henry, but it would be foolish to expect the opposite. Okay, let Georges stroke his pride temporarily, but while Baker will focus all his attention on Henry’s car, the boys don’t need to be torn apart.

As soon as they walked away from the car, a thin young man with protruding ears and a cloth immediately jumped on and began to thoroughly rub the already shiny body.

“If you clean the hole, leave already,” Georges shooed him away, but when he noticed the boy’s sad face he softened. – So be it, take one last walk.

-What is he? – Henry was surprised.

“A mechanic’s assistant, crazy about car racing, he hasn’t even finished school yet,” Georges explained. – They took him on a voluntary basis, he seems diligent and he likes cleanliness – words can’t describe it. As soon as he sees a speck of dust, he rushes as if to attack his worst enemy.

Hendrik laughed.

– A lover of cleanliness in our pits will have a hard time.

“Maybe he’ll come to his senses and find a more decent job,” Georges suggested.

– Where is your constant story about the legends of the local race track? It’s unusual without them,” Henry continued the conversation.

“We can tell you until the evening, you know, how many events have happened here in forty years,” Georges sighed. – The route may be shorter than the German one, but no less treacherous. The ring is fast and long, and in the mountains the weather is changeable. Often it only rains on the other half. And you, starting a dry circle, do not even suspect it. Racing here is rarely predictable. You will soon feel it yourself. I think it’s time.

Georges, a little embarrassed, interrupted the conversation.

– No problem.

Henry himself was in no particular hurry. In the morning he drove the first series of laps and got acquainted with the track. Indeed, it is very difficult to go along the public road, located in extremely picturesque foothills. Second session around lunchtime. Henry expressed his wishes to the mechanics about adjusting the settings, but what’s the point, it won’t add much speed.

In the meantime, we have to go to the Monetti pits. According to rumors, after the second failure in a row, Mario himself threw thunder and lightning and scolded the management, especially because of the late report that Rinaldo was training hard in America while driving someone else’s car. The team waited in horror for the continuation of the beating and the near arrival of the great and terrible boss at the race. Unfortunately, Henry hasn’t seen anything interesting in Monetti’s boxes so far: the usual business fuss. But I came across a thoughtful Sam Murphy. The champion was wandering somewhere in his company.

– Harry?

– Henry.

– Sorry. Why not on the highway? Almost everything is there.

– Yes that’s me…

– Don’t want to drive in traffic? Commendable. Me, too.

– Yes…

– I shot some long episodes in the morning when no one was there. Everyone is waiting on the heated track to extend the time, but who knows what the weather will be like during the race, you should have time to try out all kinds of conditions. We are in the mountains.

– Precisely…

Sam nodded to signal the end of the talk and continued walking.

– To wait! – Henry shouted.

– Yes? – Sam responded with displeasure.

– Sorry if I ask something stupid, what is the secret of your speed?

Sam smiled slightly and looked at Henry.

– It’s a strange question, don’t you think? A driver’s speed is a combination of many factors.

“Forget it, please,” Henry didn’t know what was happening to him. For the first time all season I spoke alone with the champion. Couldn’t I find anything better to ask?

“Just a minute,” Murphy seemed to notice how embarrassed Henry felt. – How do you slow down?

“Just like everyone else,” now it was Henry’s turn to be surprised.

– You go straight into a corner, brake and turn the steering wheel, right?

– Well, yes.

– But a racing car never drives straight through a corner, it always drifts a little, right?

– Right.

– At racing schools they teach you exactly this, going deep into the corner. But I prefer to enter the corner early, while braking. And there I press the gas and use the drift to achieve a better trajectory. To understand?

– A little.

– This is not for everyone, everyone has their own style. If you want, try it, but it’s hard to learn it again.

Henry looked thoughtfully at the back of the retreating Brit – if I had your car at my disposal, I would experiment too. And when you fly into a corner with our car, first of all you think about how the suspension could give up life for a long time, and so do you.

== To be continued…