Formula 1: The GOAT

As he walked towards them with his helmet still on, Fatih observed the starkly different reactions of his two main rivals. Jackson, seeing him approach, offered a small, friendly wave. Selçuk, however, just stared, his jaw tight, gritting his teeth in silent frustration.

The impromptu meeting with the sponsors and academy representatives had an unintended side effect: thanks to the introductions between their parents, Fatih and Jackson had become tentative friends. Aslan had intended to do the same for Selçuk, but he had been unable to find his son after the qualifying session, and by the time Selçuk had reappeared, it was time for the next on-track session to begin.

Still, Fatih continued his approach; he needed to get weighed in anyway.

“Good driving,” Fatih said, extending a closed fist to Jackson.

“I came third,” Jackson replied, his face a little shy as he returned the fist bump. He met Fatih’s gloved hand with his bare one, his other hand nervously squishing his own racing gloves.

Although he was beginning to consider Fatih a friend, the competitive spirit burned brightly within him. He wasn’t happy with P3. It meant starting both of tomorrow’s heat races behind Fatih and Selçuk, significantly reducing his chances of earning a prime starting position for the all-important Final race.

Fatih nodded at Jackson before turning to Selçuk, who had just stepped off the scale. He repeated the gesture. “Good driving,” he said, his fist extended.

Selçuk’s eyes flickered down to the offered fist. He said nothing. Instead, he balled his own hand and slammed it against Fatih’s with more force than necessary, causing Fatih’s arm to jolt backward. Without another glance, Selçuk shouldered past him, bumping him as he stalked off towards the academy tent.

Fatih turned, watching Selçuk’s retreating back with a momentarily speechless expression. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as the official called his name. He immediately walked to the scale, got his weight measured, and then he too returned to the academy tent. Selçuk was nowhere to be seen.

He went through all of his remaining commitments with Burak, debriefing on the session and going over tomorrow’s schedule. Afterwards, Burak escorted him back to where his mother and grandmother were waiting. They returned to the hotel, had dinner, and spent some precious family time together before he went to sleep, his mind already preparing for the battles of the next day.

……

“When are we going to move to the KZ kart?” Fatih finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. He posed the question to Apollo, his voice echoing in the vast, empty space of the La Conca simulation. He had assumed that after the basics were done, he would have moved on to the more powerful machinery, especially since so many of the advanced concepts he was learning would be far more effective at that level and beyond, in single-seaters.

There were only about ten minutes left of his allowed four hours in the simulation, so he decided to use the moment to ask. It would have been one thing if he didn’t have a more powerful kart registered. But he did. The KF1 kart was the very first vehicle he had ever registered, yet he had never once been allowed to even materialize it. There was always another task, another fundamental to master in the Bambino kart.

“Learning the fundamentals in a car where you can practice them at the absolute limit of the machine’s capability is an invaluable asset,” Apollo explained, his tone that of a patient master. “Until you have all of the basics down, until you are able to instinctively use them at this kart’s maximum speed, we will not be moving to the more powerful kart. It would be detrimental to your training. You would have to constantly adjust between two vastly different driving styles every time you returned to the Bambino kart after getting used to the KF1 machine.”

“I’m pretty sure my Invictus ability can handle that without a problem,” Fatih countered, his reasoning sound. “I’m very sensitive to changes. I’m already doing it when I drive my underpowered home kart, the slightly more powerful academy training kart, and the overpowered competition kart. I’ve been adapting between them seamlessly, as if I’ve only been practicing with one type of kart this whole time.”

“Although you have Invictus, and it is indeed possible for you to do that, I would strongly advise against it,” Apollo said, his voice firm but fair. “These are your formative experiences. You are building the foundation upon which your entire career will rest. Mixing these foundational lessons with wildly different types of karts, with different power deliveries and driving styles, will only introduce flaws and inconsistencies into that foundation. You cannot build a skyscraper on a foundation meant for a bungalow. Wait until the championship is over. Wait until you are done with the basics. Then, we can move to the KF1 kart as we focus on the next stage of your training.”

Apollo’s tone left no room for argument, but it wasn’t an ultimatum. The System was designed to help Fatih become the greatest of all time, but only if he wanted it, only if he strived for it. Should he decide to stop pursuing motorsport, the System would simply remain dormant, a universe of wasted potential. This meant that if Fatih truly decided to flunk his training and start using the KF1 kart, he could. But it would come at the detriment of his relationship with Apollo, a reduction in his practice efficiency, and a sharp decline in the missions issued by his mentor. It would be a foolish, shortsighted choice.

“Sure then,” Fatih said, shelving his thoughts on the matter. He was a reasonable person. As long as the explanation made sense, he wouldn’t fight it. He just wanted to understand the reasons. “We’ll wait for when the time comes.”

“See you tomorrow,” he added, as the timer in his vision neared zero, bringing an end to his time in the simulation for the day. His consciousness drifted back into a peaceful sleep, waiting for the dawn of race day.

……

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second day of the second race weekend of the championship!” the voice of Süleyman Çakır, the main commentator, boomed across the circuit. “We are soon to start the first of three rounds of heat races that will determine the final starting positions for the main event, and who will be eliminated and forced to fight for their redemption in the Pre-Finals. Keep in mind, due to the high-speed nature of this track, the number of drivers who will move to the Final race is thirty, instead of the forty from the previous round, meaning ten drivers will be disqualified from the qualifying heats! I’m Süleyman Çakır, and my co-commentator is Zakir. Zakir, please take it away and give us the details.”

Only three minutes remained before the start of the race. All the karts from Group A and Group B were now positioned in their grid slots.

“Thank you very much, Süleyman,” Zakir began. “And like you, I’m very excited about this heat. We have a very unusual grid positioning compared to last week. Although two groups have been mixed for the heats, the top three qualifiers are all from the same group—Group A! And from the looks of it, it will be the same for their second qualifying heat as well. But for now, let’s focus on our current event. The green flag is waved, and Fatih leads the drivers on the formation lap! He immediately gets on the power and starts weaving like a madman, trying to put as much heat into the tires as possible, creating the look of a snake slithering down the track. The top two on the grid, Fatih and Selçuk, were the ones involved in the incident last weekend, so this start is going to be very interesting. I’m very curious as to whether Selçuk will be aggressive again, or if he will remain calm and take his time to attack, since Fatih doesn’t have the massive advantage on a dry track that he did last week in the rain.”

As Fatih exited the third of the triple hairpins, he slowed, trying to compress the pack so that he wouldn’t have to wait on the grid for too long. But he couldn’t slow down excessively and risk his tires dissipating their precious heat. By the time he arrived at his P1 grid slot, there were still more than twenty drivers who were nowhere near the starting grid. It looked like he would have to wait for a few seconds—something no driver wants to do, but an unfortunate consequence of earning pole position.

“What is he doing? Is that even allowed?” Süleyman suddenly asked, his voice sharp with surprise. On the screen, Fatih was using his hands, placing them on his rear tires and physically pushing himself backward, rolling the kart just a few centimeters.

“There is nothing in the regulations that explicitly stops him from doing that,” Zakir said, curiosity lacing his own tone. “But I’m very curious as well as to why he is doing it.”

“And the final kart enters its grid position! We have a green flag as the lights start going off… AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! Fatih has a great start! With enough force to even lift his front tires, it’s as if he jumped off the line! He immediately opens a gap on Selçuk, who looks completely surprised by the situation as they barrel into the first corner! Jackson settles in behind them in the third position, followed by Huzeyfa and Aisha, completing the top five as the heat race gets underway! There are no aggressive actions from Selçuk, unlike what we expected. Fatih didn’t even give him the chance to drive aggressively or divebomb him, thanks to the gap he opened at the start! How do you think he achieved that, Zakir? Did he jump the start, or was his reaction just that fast?”

“I think this can be attributed to his actions before the race started, when he pushed himself backward,” Zakir explained, his voice filled with the excitement of a fresh realization. “It seems he unstuck the parts of the tire that were gripping the ground due to heat. If you look at his start compared to the others, they all remained stationary for a split second longer, despite lifting off the brakes and getting on the power. Some of their engine’s initial energy had to be spent just unsticking the hot, tacky tires from the tarmac. That’s an obstacle Fatih didn’t have to deal with because he had already unstuck his before the race even started! A very clever solution to a problem no one else even considered solving. This is the difference between trailblazers and followers.”

“And the top five have already broken away into their own group!” Süleyman observed. “It seems like they’re intending on conserving their strength for the later parts of the qualifying heat before they push for overtakes. For now, they’re focused on increasing the gap to those behind them. But Fatih… he’s already in a league of his own. Selçuk is trying to benefit from his slipstream to reduce the gap, but from the looks of it, it’s going to take a very long time for him to catch up, unless Fatih makes a mistake—and that is something he is not known for doing.”