Han’s reply came quickly. “I assure you, Mr. Austin, despite your fervent desire to remain at the top of the food chain, robots with artificial intelligence are now becoming superior to humans in every task imaginable. They will soon fly our fighter jets, captain our ships, salvage wrecks from the bottom of the sea. And, yes, even race our cars. And they will do all things in superior fashion.”
Kurt listened politely, but he was more interested in watching Han. The reply had come so quickly and with it a slight edge. The man had been cool as ice until Kurt questioned his machines. The rapid-fire response, a slight flare of nostrils and a deepening of the crow’s-feet around Han’s eyes confirmed it for Kurt. He’d finally found a button to push. And he pushed it no end.
“I’m sure you’ll get there someday,” he said in a condescending tone, “but we’ll both be old men before a robot can beat a human on the racetrack. Machines can do many things, but they will always lack judgment.”
Han held his tongue for a second and then grinned. “Care to test that theory?”
“I’d love to,” Kurt said. “What are you suggesting?”
“We have a track here on the factory grounds,” Han said. “And in the garage we have the prototype of the robot car along with two others still fitted out for human drivers. If you’re willing to test yourself against it, we could even wager on the outcome to make it interesting.”
“I’d jump at the chance,” Kurt said, “but you’re a billionaire and I’m a humble government servant on a fixed income. We’d have to bet something other than money.”
Han grinned. “If you win, CNR will gladly provide whatever robotic vehicles you may find useful for your expedition.”
“And if I lose?”
“Simple,” Han said. “All you need to do is admit that the machine is better than the man.”
35
KURT HAD BEEN expecting high-end sports cars, tuned for the track, with roll cages built onto them, racing tires and anything unnecessary pulled from the frame to reduce the weight. Stepping into Han’s garage, he discovered three vehicles that were far more exotic.
“These are Toyotas,” Han said, “though you won’t find them at your local dealership.”
“Something tells me I couldn’t afford them if I did,” Kurt said.
“Probably not,” Han agreed. “This car was an alternate to race at Le Mans last year. Its twin-turbocharged V-6 makes 968 horsepower, but we’ve tuned it back to a mere 700 for our purposes.”
“I suppose that’ll be enough.”
Kurt walked toward the gleaming orange and white machine. The car itself was a work of engineering art. The front end of the car had a lethal look to it—a pointed nose connected by carbon fiber panels to two swooping fenders that curved over the top of the performance tires and then dropped down behind them like a passing wave. A teardrop-shaped cockpit rested snugly in the center. The front was a graceful curving windshield that gave a near-panoramic view forward, while the tail end held a massive wing and three vertical fins that helped stabilize the car. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this thing could fly.”
“Get it out of shape and it will,” Han warned.
“I’ll be careful,” Kurt promised.
Thirty minutes later, Kurt had changed into racing gear and strapped himself into the driver’s seat. Dressed in a flame-retardant suit with a five-point harness and a helmet pulled down tightly over his head, Kurt was ready for the battle.
The cockpit was snug, a tight fit for someone of Kurt’s size. It surrounded him in billeted aluminum and a padded roll cage. Several easy-to-reach toggle switches sat on a platform to his left. The steering wheel was removable and seemed positively tiny in Kurt’s hands. The twin-turbo V-6 shook the car as Kurt revved it.
While Han’s assistant readied the automated race car, Kurt got used to the controls. The pedals were so close together in the footwell, he could press both with one foot if he wanted to—useful in certain maneuvers, but not something he wanted to do accidentally. The paddle shifter was easy to reach and simple to operate. He flipped a switch and the four powerful headlights lit up the track in front of him, revealing black macadam lined with alternating orange and white rumble strips.
“The robot knows the track,” Han told him. “To make it fair, I’ll give you five laps to get used to it yourself. Take the car out. Work it up to speed. Try not to put it in the wall or into Nagasaki Bay. Turn five at the far end is notoriously dangerous. It’s off camber, so you’ll lose adhesion there. If you hit the fence, the car will flip and you’ll be lucky to survive the impact.”
Han reached inside the car and flicked two additional switches. “This turns on the telemetry,” he said. “And this one will activate the navigation guidance alerts.”
“Guidance?”
“Similar to your phone, although far more accurate,” Han said. “It’ll tell you which turns are coming up and how sharp they are so you won’t be surprised. Like having a navigator sitting by your side.”
“That annoys me enough in regular traffic,” Kurt joked, “but I suppose I could use the help.”
As Han backed away, one of the mechanics lowered the carbon fiber door and offered a thumbs-up. Kurt eased the car out onto the track and spent the first two laps getting used to the layout, the navigator and the instant and precise feedback that came through the steering wheel.
By the third lap, he took the back straight at over a hundred miles per hour, racing along the waterfront as the city lights glistened on Nagasaki Bay. He slowed considerably for turn five and yet as the track tilted to the right while turning to the left, the car still felt as if it was going to fly off the track and into the bay. He ran each of the next two laps at slightly higher speeds and then pulled into the pits, ready to begin the race.
He stopped thirty feet from where Han’s people were readying a yellow and blue version of the car Kurt was in. The paint was different and the CNR logo was plastered all over it, but aside from a few additional antennas, the cars were identical.
Kurt popped the door open. Despite the cool night temperatures, it was already sweltering in the cockpit. He pulled his helmet off for some air.
Akiko came up to him. “Are you trying to be my hero?”
“Your hero?”
“Defending the cause of humanity in its epic battle against technology.”
Kurt had to laugh. “I’d say yes, but, in all honesty, I’m just trying to get our host off balance. Keep an eye on him while I’m out there.”
She leaned in and gave him a kiss. “For luck.”
The robot car roared to life and, once it was up and running, Han walked back over to Kurt. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Good,” Han said. “We’ll have to keep it short. There’s a storm coming in and we don’t want either vehicle out on the track if it starts raining.”
Kurt nodded.
“Enjoy your ride,” Han said. “First car across the finish line wins.”
Kurt pulled on his helmet, tightened the strap and nodded. The doors were closed and the cars lined up in a staggered formation, with Kurt thirty feet ahead.
Staging lights on a pole at the side of the track went from red to amber, then amber . . . amber . . . and finally green.
Kurt raced out of the pit quickly and worked the car rapidly through its paces. The staggered start allowed the two cars to get out of the pits without colliding at the narrow end of the lane. Moving faster than he had on the other laps, the first turn arrived quickly.
“Right seventy,” the navigation system announced.
Hitting the brakes hard, Kurt felt the rubber grab and his whole body slam against the straps of the racing harness. He worked the steering wheel in a constant state of adjustment, skirted the orange and white border of the track and slammed the throttle down as he left the tu
rn.
The car jumped forward so deftly that Kurt was thrown back in his seat in a way he’d last felt when being launched off an aircraft carrier as a passenger in an F/A-18 Hornet.
“Chicane left,” the navigator told him.
Heavy on the brakes and another sudden decrease in speed followed. Kurt worked the steering wheel hard to the left, then back to the right. This was the slowest portion of the track, followed by a short straight and another turn.
“Left forty.”
This turn was easy to navigate and Kurt held his speed all the way through, though the car was sliding a bit before the end.
“Right thirty.”
Kurt had considered the navigator to be a distraction during the practice laps, but now, pushing the car and his own reflexes to their limits, he found it incredibly helpful. It gave him cues at exactly the right time and directed his eyes toward the apex of the turn, freeing up his mind to process everything else that was going on.
He left turn four, hammered the accelerator and cycled up through the gears quickly. The back straight was a long stretch, uphill at first until it passed under a vacant observation bridge, where it went downgrade in a straight line toward turn five.
“Left seventy, off camber.”
Kurt hit the brakes hard, felt the blood rushing to the front of his face and swung wide before cutting across the turn. Just like every other lap, he felt the car drifting, pulled toward the fence and the waiting bay by the invisible force of gravity. Since the car went where the eyes focused, he kept his eyes glued to the inner part of the turn.
The rest of the lap went smoothly and Kurt raced through the start/finish line with a nine-second lead on the robot car.
“One down, four laps to go,” Kurt said.
* * *
• • •
FROM THE ELEVATED viewing stand in the pit area, Han watched his ten-million-dollar robot car chase Kurt around the track. To his chagrin, the second lap was even worse than the first. By the time they crossed the line, Kurt was ahead by more than ten seconds.
He glanced at Gao. “There must be something wrong with the car,” he said. “How is Austin beating it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Gao replied. “Austin had five laps to warm up his tires. Our car is racing on cold rubber. It has less grip in the turns and the computer is keeping the speed down. By lap three, we’ll be equal footing. We’ll catch him by lap four and pass him on the front straight. By the end of the race, our car will be twenty seconds ahead of him. It won’t even be close.”
“You’d better be right,” Han said. “I don’t like being embarrassed. Take the safety protocols off just to be sure.”
Gao looked at his boss questioningly and then did as he was told. With the flick of a switch, the automated car was instructed to ignore its safe operating parameters and win at all costs.
36
FROM THE COCKPIT of Kurt’s car, the third lap seemed to go much like the first two. But by the start of the fourth lap, he could see that the robot car was gaining on him. The glare of its headlights had become constant in his mirrors. Four diamond-white pinpricks announcing that the hunter was closing in on its prey.
The brilliant white lamps did more than aggravate. They were affecting Kurt’s night vision, causing his pupils to constrict and limiting his ability to see past the swath of his own headlights.
As lap four went on, the lights grew closer and Kurt’s driving became less precise. He was a little wide on turns one and two and caught the rumble strip badly in the chicane.
Aggravated with himself, he stomped the gas early and hard coming out of the next turn and almost spun the car out of control. The emotionless computer following him made none of those mistakes and the gap between them dropped to four seconds.
“Right thirty,” the navigator said. Kurt iced his own emotions and got back to driving as he had been before. He cut the wheel smoothly, sped through the turn and rode the gears higher into the red this time before shifting.
The robot car continued to close the gap.
The two cars thundered down the back straight toward the dangerous curve. The robot car’s nose so close to Kurt’s back wing that the lights were no longer in Kurt’s eyes. It was drafting him now and getting ready to slingshot by. And there was precious little Kurt could do about it.
“Come on,” Kurt said. “Get around me if you’re going.”
“Left seventy, off camber.”
The turn was coming up fast. Kurt needed to brake. He cut to the inside of the track and hit the brakes.
The robot car did the same, but Kurt had hit the brakes earlier than the automated car had planned to. The nose of the robotic vehicle crashed into the back of Kurt’s car.
Kurt was shoved forward and sent off line. His car slid for a second, but as Kurt adjusted the wheel, the tires regained their grip and the Toyota straightened with a whiplashing snap and stayed online.
With his foot to the floor, Kurt cruised around the wide horseshoe at the far end of the track and then onto the front straight once more.
The robot car had fallen back after the impact but was gaining on him again, though not as quickly as it had done the last lap. The impact had damaged its nose and affected its aerodynamics. As far as Kurt could tell, his own car was unhindered.
He raced along the front straight, roaring past the pits and then the viewing stand. He stole a glance at Han and his assistant up on the platform. “Reckless human drivers . . . my eye.”
* * *
• • •
UP ON THE PLATFORM, Han was almost foaming at the mouth. “I told you not to lose this race.”
Gao was monitoring the telemetry. “Nothing I can do about it now. You wanted the safeties off, that’s the danger.”
“Pass him, Gao.”
“The car will make another attempt on the back straight, but Austin is putting in his fastest lap yet. He’s a quick study.”
“Perhaps we should stop helping him, then,” Han said.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Shut off his navigation system.”
“He’ll be waiting for the announcement and drive right into the wall,” Gao said.
“He wanted to prove humans can outdrive machines. Let him prove it on his own.”
Gao took a deep breath. “You kill him here and his government will grow suspicious.”
“Not if it’s an accident.”
“Wen told you to keep him alive!” Gao argued. “To use him as a scapegoat.”
A wave of fury erupted from Han. He grabbed Gao by the collar. “Do as I say! Shut off the navigation.”
Released from Han’s grasp, Gao looked out over the track. Austin was making his way through the chicane and toward turn four. He waited a few seconds and then switched the relay to the off position.
* * *
• • •
KURT KNEW Han’s car might try to take him out again, but he never considered stopping the race. He was determined to beat Han now more than ever.
He raced hard through the familiar turns on the front side of the track, operating with a mix of patience and restrained aggression. His orange and white Toyota carved a perfect line this time and it flew up the hill at a furious pace.
“Right fort—” the navigator said, the announcement oddly clipped in the middle.
Kurt dove into the turn, let the inside wheels hit the rumble strip to help him through it and left the apex of the curve at nearly full speed. Hitting the back straight, he spun the engine to its limits, letting the tachometer wind into the red as he blazed through the night.
The orange and white strips on the side of the track flew by at a dizzying pace. The lights shimmered on Nagasaki Bay and the robot car came on from behind, tracking him down and closing in with each fraction of a second.
Ku
rt flashed beneath the vacant bridge and bore down on the notorious turn five. The engine screamed in a full wail behind him. His fingers were light on the steering wheel, his foot poised to switch from accelerator to brake at the first instant of the navigator’s announcement.
It took only a fraction of a second for Kurt to realize it wasn’t coming. His eyes spotted the skid marks from the earlier lap. His mind calculating instantly that he was going too fast and getting too close.
He slammed on the brakes. The antilock system prevented a full skid, but an eruption of blue tire smoke filled the track. The harness dug into Kurt’s shoulders and he grunted as he turned the wheel, cutting it harder and keeping his foot on the brake.
His Toyota slowed rapidly but went into a drift. The tire smoke billowed like a bomb had gone off and the wall loomed.
With no other choice, Kurt let up on the brakes and hit the accelerator to get some control back. The car continued to skid but stayed on the ground. The rubber finally grabbed and the vehicle shot forward, toward the inside of the track. It raced onto the infield, nearly clipping the robot car as it flew past him, traveling headlong into the cloud of smoke.
With its sensors affected by the smoke and its safeties turned off, the automated car waited too long to begin applying its own brakes. It shot through the smoke cloud, skidded into the turn and banged the outside wall. The carbon fiber body panels on the right side splintered and flew in all directions. The wing was ripped off the back end. It went flying over the wall like a tomahawk, slicing into the water of Nagasaki Bay. The car itself careened off the wall and slid onto a gravel trap, where it stopped.
Kurt had already come to a stop on the grass of the infield. He was safe and sound and angled just about perfectly to view the last few seconds of the automated car’s wipeout. He saw it come to a stop on the gravel, two of its headlights blown out, the other two pointed toward the track.
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