OK Number 40 - Fear And Loathing in the Winter Test '19

There were several immediate indicators to Kallen that, just as Dorothy realised intuitively that, upon her arrival in the Land of Oz hat she had in fact left the midwestern state of Kansas, that she was no longer driving a car designed by Rakshata Chawla, that arose within a few laps of hurling it around the Circuit de Barcelona Catalunya.

Of course, not all of the differences between this car and her previous Rebellions were able to be traced back to their different designs and philosophies. Even where there had been the same designer and team, with her 2017 and 2018 car, there had been stark differences; one long, one short, one low rake, one taut, and so on. The 2017 car was designed around Tohdoh, the 2018 one around her. The 2019 car was designed around Gino, however the differences in focus were not comprehensive.

One of the major differences between this year and the previous one, a difference so severe that ASEEC had cut Lloyd Asplund adrift for how expensive the changes would have to be to accommodate it; the tyre manufacturer, who had been the sole supplier of all teams, was now out of contract, and instead of resigning, the FIA had brought in a new tyre supplier, about whose rubber the suspension would have to be retailored. They were far softer and more grippy, however they were fragile, and liable to blister, and the degradation was based on flex and not heat. They would require a whole new approach, and drivers for whom that was more intuitive would rise up, whereas people who had cut their teeth on the previous compound of tyre would have their patterns interrupted.

Which meant, that as Kallen began to push and push further and further into her car, pace and tyres, it seemed that the cars had a tendency to induce shaking in the steering wheel at the extremities of the lock, indicating a mechanical grip limit being reached as opposed to aerodynamic grip, meant that the primary difference lay in these new tyres. She was somewhat ambivalent; folks like Cornelia, if she was still racing, and Tohdoh, who was just returning this year, would be caught flat footed, having spent years building a style around those tyres, which had been used for almost a decade. By contrast, someone like Rolo Lamperouge would leap right into F1 with no habits or mannerisms, a completely blank slate.

But of course, this was not the sole source of difference that required her to adapt. The Camelot was much bigger, trying to elongate the floor space to maximise the effect of the diffuser. It definitely less of a ballerina, more of a rugby player, less able to turn on a dime but more capable in the high speed corners, and it pulled out speeds on the long straights Kallen was not used to seeing.

Of course, Kallen had an unorthodox way of rotating the car, however it required precision, instantaneous reaction times, and an understanding of what your rear end was doing. Beyond leaping across the track erratically to sniff out patches of grip, Kallen had taken to using the throttle in the mid corner to aggravate the rear end, causing it to slip and induce power oversteer, which would cause the car to rotate beyond the angle and direction of the front wheels. In what ultimately amounted to steering the car with the throttle, much of the understeer inherent in this long wheelbase design could be countered, even though it meant that the rear tyres would be shot within fifteen laps due to excessive wheelspin, exacerbated by Kallens heavy reliance on trail-braking.

This was of the greatest value in the third sector, where in 2007 the flat out sweeper of turns thirteen and fourteen was replaced by an incredibly slow and tight chicane, where the ability to pivot the car at low speed was central. What did surprise Kallen, even in spite of the car being designed around him, was that Gino matched her in sector two, and actually had the legs on her in the first sector. It was clear, particularly given how hard Kallen was pushing, that Gino was no slouch, and given how convincingly Cornelia had beaten him, it did an immense amount for Kallen's opinion of the champion. Perhaps some of that skill had rubbed off on her younger sister.

Of course that would emerge with time, however as she let her tyres, all four worn down to the canvas, roll into the garage she felt comfortable enough in the performance of the car and herself. She hadn't lost any pace over what had been a rocky winter, and was eager to see where she lined up in this new car as she approached the garages, the familiar deep purple, white and red.

To Kallen's confusion, the various engineers at the front of the garage entrance stood away from the car, with puzzled frowns. Kallen could not make sense of why they weren't rushing to attend to the car, however it quickly dawned on her like a lightbulb; this was the Rebellion garage.

She wasn't a Rebellion driver anymore.

Somewhat embarrassed at the habit, she let her hand wave in front of her face as she saw the Rebellion engineers, many of whom she knew, chuckling. She lit the rear tyres up, just wanting to get out of what was in actuality the wrong pit box. She hurried over to the Camelot pit which, given that Rebellion finished second in the constructors championship and Camelot third, meant it was the next one along, and her embarrassment was brief. She turned right into the Camelot garage, painted pink and black, to hide if nothing else. She removed her dayglo red helmet, which had at this point become a staple of her image, and as recognisable as Tohdoh's or the drivers of his generation, before grabbing onto the pillars above her shoulders and raising herself out of the cabin. She shook herself, to stretch some of the dead muscle back into life, before looking over to the timing board.

It was attended to by a nameless engineer, who pointed to the two highlighted names on the black LED screen, before elaborating.

"Gino's best lap was a one minute sixteen point nine, yours… it's a one sixteen seven. Two tenths faster"

"I mean…" Kallen sighed, rather conflicted, before continuing "It's only a smidge faster than last year, I put in a seventeen flat the first day of winter testing last year, but it's not horrifying. That should be there or thereabouts, right?"

The engineer paused, trying to think through what to say, before replying unhelpfully with "Well, yes and no."

"Incredibly constructive."

"Well, we're definitely a solid second."

Kallen blinked, before nodding. "Well, Rebellion was faster than us last year, and Rosenberg have disappeared off the face of the planet, so at least we've moved up a slot by default. I'm sure we can-"

"Rebellion are only just after arriving. They've got pit crews here, but the cars had to be flown in from Japan as opposed to ferried to Spain from the UK. They haven't put in a time yet."

Kallen blinked, before asking, completely confused, "Well then who's ahead? And what time did they set?"

"The Geely of Li Xingke is ahead of both of you, and his teammate Zhou Xianglin is about a tenth behind you, on par with Gino."

She blinked in disbelief, before asking "Well what time has Xingke put in? Can't be too much faster than a sixteen, surely."

"I guess you're gonna have to take a look at this yourself."

Kallen looked to the top, seeing the red flag of the Peoples Republic of China next to Li Xingke's name, spelt out in Pinyin, before looking right to see what his best time was.

It was a one minute, fourteen point eight second time.

Kallen shook her head, not quite believing it before saying "He must have cut the track somewhere, that's not…"

However, the engineer took his turn to shake his head and confirm the times validity, replying "Nope, that was a legit time. Might have been on a low fuel glory run."

Kallen let out a breath and shrugged, before concluding "Well, either that or we're a bit screwed."

"Well… hope for the best, plan for the worst."

Nodding, Kallen replied "That's all you can do. If Xingke has a decent car this year though… then I'm not sure if he'll be any more accommodating or easy than Suzaku was. He demolished the WEC, ate the Endurance Championship for brunch, his car has been the big handicap to his performance. He's an immensely talented overtaker, and tough as nails. Here's hoping it's a fluke."

"Touch wood." the engineer replied. Kallen agreed, and was about to say something else, however there was a holler from outside the garage that interrupted her. As she moved towards the entrance to see what the fuss was about, she quickly learned, as the press began to flock around the Rebellion garage she had just vacated. Some coincidence, they must have just arrived. Kallen knew Tohdoh had come back to replace her, but they hadn't announced who would replace Lelouch, and was curious to see who it would be.

"Woah, holy hell… with this lineup, it's like a blast from the past!"

"For sure! These two drivers driving the two Rebellions? I mean, what year is it?"

Kallen, not knowing who they were talking about, could only guess. She tried to push past the gaggle of reporters, reaching the cover of the roof before catching the back of Diethard Reid, talking to his assistant.

"Wow, just wow… I mean… it's Naoto bloody Kōzuki..."

Confused, Kallen interrupted Diethard from behind by asking confusedly in a loud enough voice to be heard by the commentator, "What about him? Is he here?"

Kallen was hoping that her brother was in the paddock somewhere, and that he was still supporting Rebellion from the sidelines after his sisters public parting with them was what she assumed made his presence gossip-worthy, however Diethard turned, and sent Kallen into a state of shock with his next words.

"He's Rebellion's second driver, he's racing."

Kallen had no response beyond stunned silence. Naoto would race again? Nevermind racing again in FE or WEC either, though both were worthy retirement homes enjoyed by many former champions, he was back not just in F1, but in the top flight thereof; the team which had won the Constructors championship last year, that was where he had made his greatest impact and would be able to wrap up what was unfinished business, not quite 2 years since breaking both of his legs and being told he would never drive again, Naoto was back, and Kallen was honestly too overcome to deliver a coherent reaction.

She was of course overcome with joy that the one person she loved and treasured, he older brother, was back at what he was good at, … however, they had not parted on good terms. Their last contact was Naoto asking by text what she had said to Lelouch to get him to apologise, and he had promptly not believed her when she replied and stopped responding, and their last verbal conversation was two nights after she had attacked Lelouch over the phone, and he had not picked up since then when she called at all.

She honestly couldn't blame him.

All of these negative sentiments and memories of neglect and regret did dampen her enthusiasm abut his return, however, given that this information had been sprung on her at what could generously be described as the eleventh hour, she did not know to what extent it had done so. She hadn't been able to process it and how this affected her initial enthusiasm. She had no idea whether to be happy, or cross, or conciliatory, or whether to just go to her trailer and mull over the meaning of existence.

However, as these thoughts swirled through her head, she realised that she had pushed past Diethard, who had likely asked some manner of stupid question, and was walking further and further into the Rebellion garage, muscling through wads of engineers.

And then, just as the crowd split, she saw him; hair a slightly darker red than hers, bordering on auburn, and worn in a full mullet. Adorning the skintight purple nomex, the sight of him in full racing gear, the notion of him returning having been a practical impossibility for two years, stopped her in her tracks. She just stood there, staring at him as he scowled into his phone, before he looked over and scowled at her.

She gave a visual sigh, before stepping towards him, and feeling a well in her throat, whispered just above the din of the garage in their native Japanese, "Naoto, brother-"

"What the hell do you want?"

Sudden. Immediate. He snapped as if it were a well practiced reflex, restrained in his volume but unrestrained in what he said, even if moderated by the naturally formal structures of Japanese. Hurt by this, Kallen shook her head and replied, almost pleading, "Naoto-san, please, don't-"

He waved his hand in front of his face, shooing her away, before snapping his fingers, seeming to try to get the attention of security. Kallen tried to get a word in, before he interrupted her again.

"Get out of my face." Naoto snarled, before changing tack and putting on a faux impression of feeling intimidated. "I better get out of here before you start trying to beat the shit out of me."

Kallen shook her head, and pleaded "Mum wouldn't want us to fight like this-"

"Mum wouldn't want us to become street thugs who hospitalised people who annoyed us but it seems only one of us got that message."

"Okay, are we good?"

"I mean, yes. Good. Not great, not terrible, but the fuel cell is at least anchored, which means that we can crank the engine. Good is a good word to describe where we're at."

"At least it's not on fire. Stations!"

As Lelouch gave the command, the fuel cell and engine teams, here working together on what was an immense task, that of installing and starting up the engine for the first time. If this could be done, then they would have one of the biggest outstanding tasks sorted out, with most of the remaining things to do being comparably trivial.

Even so, Lelouch was fretful. The fuel cell work had been finished last night at twelve, however the fabrication of engine fittings was not completed until five o'clock that morning. The engine should have been tested at two o'clock, and fired up at three. It was now twenty five past nine, and they were only starting the cranking, without having done any tests to boot. This was not ideal, but he had a plan to work around it. It was tradition for all the factory workers to be present for the first engine firing, however he could not guarantee it would be successful.

As such, once he had seen it fire up reliably, he would only then invite the factory to see it being fired up for what thy would think was the first time. As he put it, they could not allow what the workers saw in what they had produced to undermine the fruits of their own labour. If they saw failure, they will be dispirited.

However, it was a ways from considering the second or third fire up when they hadn't even had one yet. The mechanics were in position, waiting for his command.

"Get her going."

With that, the button was pressed, with the electronic starter motor mounted below the gearbox utilizing the ERS to try and crank the engine. The hulk of metal did turn over, however it was only for a brief time, not long enough to build up enough momentum for the cylinders to spark.

Lelouch leaned his head back, with mixed emotions. At the very least, his caution had been prudent, as this, an image of a car being showered by a carbon hose to ensure that the capacitor did not catch fire. Lelouch pressed his thumb and forefinger into his two cheeks and let out a breath.

"Remove the battery, check the computer with the Electronics team. What does the tachometer say?"

Another mechanic hunched over a chunky laptop, replied "Fourteen revolutions per minute peak. I can try calling the electrician-"

"No, and I'll be honest, but I don't really care a great deal to summon the electricians down here. I want this engine cranking, in fact I want it cranking yesterday. Do you have a manual crank handle?"

The six other people in the room paused, and stared at Lelouch. After a moment, the man over the laptop stuck his neck out and asked "What do you want to do?"

"I want to sit on it and spin, what do you think I'd use a crank handle for? We're starting it manually."

The man stood up from his computer, and, after pausing again, said "Well, it's over there, but I don't know-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, as Lelouch, as soon as his employee pointed him to the handle, threw aside his crutch and speedwalked over to it. Picking it up with his good hand, he used the blunt end of it to form a makeshift crutch to hobble his way back across to the car. He had the room at his attention, and after taking a moment to scowl at them, Lelouch flipped the handle and slotted it into the entry shaft below the exhaust.

"Lelouch, I still don't get what's going to be different-"

"Indeed." Lelouch replied, standing up above the handle to turn and face the person who spoke. "You don't. Your job is incredibly specialised. It's about engine design, management, installation, and repair. You know engines inside out and upside down. And the electricians know the battery and ERS system just as well. It's why you're the ones doing this and not me. But to get as good as ye have gotten, ye have had to get really, really specialised in your fields. You don't know what's happening in the other areas, because it isn't your job. And, moreover, it isn't mine. My job is to listen to whatever you, the electricians, the chassis folks, and so on have to say and make decisions and directives based on it. I'm not as technically knowledgeable as either you or the electrics team. But I hear from both, which is the point."

Lelouch caught his breath, before continuing.

"The batteries discharge very quickly, as when it extends it earths. It seems it can't crank and ignite the spark plug at the same time, it's just too much. I'll get the electrics crew to see what they can do about it later, but for now we need to see if this engine works or if it's a dud, and we can't wait for the electronics team to resolve this issue to find that out. We're going to crank it manually."

The man, a Belgian rocking a shirt with rolled up sleeves and tattoo's in the height of his early twenties, nodded and looked back to his computer. Pushing his glasses back towards his brow, he replied "Yeah, that seems grand. Right, who do you want-"

Once again though, he was not allowed to finish, as Lelouch, growing impatient, bent his knees down, putting himself into a low squat before, forearms pointed upwards, before he then used his thighs to push the handle up and try to rotate it.

"Sir!" cried out another engineer. "You're injured!"

Lelouch let out a terse breath, before hissing "You're welcome to pitch in."

Immediately, sense struck the engineers, and they all ran over to try and rotate the pole, grabbing onto its extremities and pushing it as hard as they could. As the heavy pistons built momentum, Lelouch hissed "You, Belgian, back to the computer. Get the spark plugs going when we've got good revolution speed."

He did so, and they gradually built up speed, more with the power of their legs than their arms. Just as Lelouch's thighs felt fit to burst though, the Belgian signalled "The revs are good, we can spark!"

Seeing Lelouch was about to faint, the woman to his left yelled to do it, and so it was. The noise of the spark plugs started up again, but this time it stayed, and within moments the force required to rotate the engine evaporated, and as the throttle was digitally manipulated, it began to get away from them and rotate beyond the speed they could move their arms. All of them, eager to keep their arms attached to their torso, let go and leapt back immediately, and, with confirmation that no one was still gripping onto the end of the crankshaft, the Belgian digitally revved up the engine, and, sure as Lelouch stood there, it roared into life.

Well, roared was perhaps generous, and Lelouch suspected that there may be more than one injector which was not operative, not dissimilar to how Kallen's engine lost power over the 2017 Brazilian Grand Prix. However, it was at least progress.

Turning to the engineers, he commented "I'll call the other workers into the main hall to see us fire up. Take a spot of pride, that's a major hurdle cleared. Let me know when you're finished diagnostics."

Hostile as Naoto was, over the next few days he proved that, even after his 2017 accident, he had lost none of his lustre, and even seemed to have picked up the edge on Tohdoh after all these years; by day three, people were noticing that the introverted elder Kōzuki was conducting himself bullishly on track, which each day finding that Kōzuki's fastest time was higher than Tohdoh's. It seemed that the more passive Tohdoh who let the car roll through corners to maintain optimal grip was not gelling with these new tyres, finding them very hard to keep in high temperature ranges.

Kallen, from the pits, watched on the CRT monitor as Naoto barrelled up to the back straight, with the car, having had no lead driver to direct its development for some time before Tohdoh was brought onboard, Naoto only arriving at the last minute, being quite the halfway house between last years squat aggressiveness and the previous years' sloped, low drag concept. It looked an uncomfortable bastard child, and there was perhaps no better pilot for that than one of two illegitimate siblings.

Of course, several days later Kallen was still stunned at his recovery. It had been happening in her peripheral vision of course; by Silverstone 2017 he could attend races with a crutch, by Brazil he could fly, and by the start of the 2018 he had begun training to get back to fitness. As he had withdrawn, particularly after she had wrested control of Rebellion out of Tohdoh's hands, which had given him perspective, he had knuckled back down to work. At any rate, even if his more recent actions demonstrated he was no shrinking violet when dealing with his sister and in no sense humbled, he certainly was emboldened in his relationship with Tohdoh and the team at large, setting the marker down early to try and say, as if by smoke signal, that they should back him as the number one driver, as they had Tohdoh when they were last together.

However, the fight between them would be over what ultimately amounted to P4. Xingke's pace that Kallen had been blindsided by hadn't faded, and indeed he only seemed to be getting more and more into his groove, solidifying his status as the clear favourite. It could not even be pinned to his all-conquering car, as Zhou Xianglin was still putting in the times she had on the first day, hitting a brick wall that was seeing her be overtaken by both Camelots and Rebellions, with Xingke's countrywoman having to settle for sixth, with Xingke up front, Kallen ahead of Gino, and Naoto ahead of Tohdoh, as the animals didn't quite line up two by two.

No, it wasn't the car. It was certainly a step up from years previous, but it was undeniable that Xingke was just stupid fast on these tyres.

As Kallen got more and more comfortable in the car, especially given how much it was designed for two drivers who were not her, becoming able to drive around its inherent mannerisms and traits, she built up the pace to at least leapfrog one of the Geely's, cementing a firm second place. Gino was a few tenths clear of the Rebellions, which kept him in third, which would become second when the second shoe dropped; she wouldn't be racing until Malaysia, three races into the season, for as convinced as Camelot were of her sincerity, the FIA imposed punishment stood, and she would be forced to sit out the first two weekends, handing her seat over to Anya Alstreim, who had dominated F2 after Kallen had been called up to the big league, and was Camelot's official reserve driver. She would be down two races before she even turned a wheel.

None of this would serve to dispirit Kallen, of course; she wasn't keeping it rattling around in her mind for reasons of fatalism. But she was on the back foot, she would already have ground to make up, and if Kallen knew anything, it was that the back foot was the position she knew how to fight from best.

Kallen finished her tea, and looked out over the grandstand, noticing it emptying. Curious, she stepped out of her garage, the place having closed up for the night, to look at the still-alight camera projections at the end of the straight. A number of lorries, unmarked, were pulling in across the way, projected onto the cinema screen in full size, as folks gathered round, cameras flashing brilliantly. Kallen saw who was standing at the front of the crowd, and couldn't quite believe it.

Four days into testing, and long past the point that Kallen, as well as most of the paddock, stopped believing it would happen, it did.

Lelouch Lamperouge had arrived.

We did it! We got to pre-season testing, even if Lelouch was a little late. Hopefully this chapter was up to par, but of course, what am I saying? You can (and should) let me know in the reviews, which are genuinely helpful from both a motivating point of view, what's working and not working, and any hanging threads you're confused about. Thank you so much, and be safe.

~G1ll3s