Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Which get up to two hundred miles per hour,” I chirp, showcasing some of the stuff I learned already.
“Over two hundred and thirty miles per hour.”
Laughing, I shake my head and tap on my notepad. “Back to the levels of racing. You said you went from karting to an academy to FI3.”
“Yeah, but let’s keep walking so I’m not late.” Lex continues, weaving us through the building. “FI3 is the first professional series you enter. All the cars have the same chassis and engine and there’s a limit to the horsepower. This phase of racing is for driver development—race craft, control, strategy—and for the chance to move upward to FI2.”
“Assume faster cars?” I muse as I scribble.
“More horsepower, but the teams all still have the same chassis and engine so the playing field is more level. Again, it’s to develop driver skill. And the best of those advance to the FI level, which is the pinnacle.”
“Where you design your own vehicles,” I say. It’s all coming together now.
“This level has the fastest, most technologically advanced cars the world’s engineers can create. We’re driving thousand-horsepower engines compared to only three hundred and eighty at the junior level. This is where you hope all that race craft and control you learned prior keeps you from getting smeared across the track at two hundred and thirty miles per hour.”
I swallow hard, suddenly understanding how elite you have to be to compete at Lex’s level. “It’s admirable that you’re here at only twenty-four years old.”
Lex chuckles and holds open a door for me to enter before him. “I guess. But when you consider I started at age five, it’s been a long journey. I won the FI2 Championship when I was nineteen and got called up to FI the following year.”
“Wow.” I am completely impressed. “So you’ve been in FI since you were… twenty?”
“Yep,” he says. “One of the youngest drivers to win a podium in FI too.”
Before I can respond, we reach a large door and he pushes it open, gesturing for me to go ahead. I step into the room, and it’s like stepping into another world. A long conference table is surrounded by engineers, each of them with laptops open, screens glowing with what I can only assume is important data. Three large flat-screens are on the wall, each showcasing charts and graphs that look like another language. I don’t understand how I’ll ask a single coherent question here today.
“Morning,” Lex says. “I’m sure you all got the memo from Harley, but this is Posey Evans. She’s a reporter writing an article on Crown Velocity and she’s going to be shadowing me through the first race. I thought she could learn some engineering today. Maybe you could each tell her what it is you do here at Crown Velocity.”
I feel every eye in the room on me. My notepad feels tiny in my hands compared to the serious machinery in front of them.
Lex starts with the introductions. “All right, Posey. These are the people who actually make the magic happen.” He points to a man at the head of the table with salt-and-pepper hair. “That’s Giovanni Scava, our aerodynamics engineer.”
Giovanni nods politely, pushes his glasses up his nose and speaks in a deep Italian accent. “My primary responsibility is optimizing the aerodynamic coefficients of the chassis, ensuring the laminar flow adheres to the bodywork with minimal boundary layer separation. We manipulate the airflow vector fields to maximize downforce while minimizing parasitic drag, particularly in high-speed straights and corner apexes. In addition—”
Lex holds up his hands. “Gio… mate… let’s dumb that down a bit. You’re making my eyes cross.”
There’s chuckling around the room and Giovanni mutters an apology. “Scusi. In simple terms, I’m in charge of making sure the car slices through the air as efficiently as possible. Downforce, drag, airflow—all of that determines how fast we can go and how stable the car feels in high-speed corners.”
I scribble down every word, even though I only half understand it. I’m determined to figure it out later.
Lex moves on to the next person, a woman in her early thirties with sharp eyes and short-cropped hair. “This is Emma Dunne, our mechanical engineer. She handles the suspension and chassis.”
Emma smiles warmly as she explains in a light, British accent, “I work on making sure the car’s setup is perfect for each track. That includes the suspension, the ride height, and the balance of the car—everything that makes sure Lex is comfortable in the cockpit and can push the car to its limits.”
I nod, still writing, though the words are blurring together.
Next, Lex gestures to a bald man with a blond goatee. “This is Thierry Dubois, our power unit engineer.”
Thierry gives a curt nod before speaking and as expected by his name, his accent is French. “I focus on the engine and hybrid systems. It’s my job to make sure the power unit is delivering maximum performance while staying within the limits of fuel and energy usage.”