Formula 1: The GOAT

“Welcome back. How was the kart feeling, and are there any additional changes you need?” Steve asked, dragging one of the chairs and taking a seat opposite Fatih.

“No, the kart’s setup is perfect, so no need to change anything,” Fatih answered before pointing his eyes to the people looking at him and asking, “Why are they looking at me? Did I do something wrong, or is there something on my face?” while trying to wipe his face.

“We have been having a back-and-forth about your lap-record-breaking spree and were wondering if you were doing it deliberately or if it was a coincidence,” Ricky said, dragging a chair and joining the table as well.

“Aaaaah,” Fatih said as if he had finally understood the reason before answering calmly with a look of naivety on his face when he said, “Yes, it is deliberate.”

Thanks to Invictus, he managed to hold himself back from laughing, or else he would have failed when he saw the looks of all those in the tent who heard his answer.

“Why?” Steve asked involuntarily, not as a question but out of disbelief.

“I saw this on the internet that there was a Soviet Union or Ukrainian pole vaulter in the nineteen-eighties and nineties.” When he started speaking, everyone wondered where this story was going and what relevance it had to the situation at hand, but he didn’t stop and continued, “It is said that he had an agreement with Nike, one that said he would be paid $100,000 every time he broke the world record. Despite being able to beat the world record by a large margin, he avoided doing that and kept only increasing the world record by just a centimeter each time in order to prolong it. So I wondered if I could replicate it and tried to do it. Thankfully, it worked.”

Had it not been for the clear look on his face, everyone in the room would have wondered if he was bragging, but to them, he looked completely innocent, no different from a child who had found an interesting game and decided to experiment with it, not knowing how nearly impossible it was to achieve.

“Aaaaaaah, you are going to kill me from overthinking,” Ricky said as he dragged his hand over his head, trying to recollect himself from the dumbfounded look he had previously.

“Oh, right. Lando and Enaam, your final free practice is going to start soon, so go ahead and don’t be late and lose precious practice time,” John said, turning to Lando and Enaam, who were also surprised upon hearing the answer.

“Yes,” the two answered before picking up their helmets, but just as they were about to leave, Lando paused and asked, “How did you count the lap time? Is there a screen I can look at to try that?”

“No, I counted in my mind,” he answered, causing Lando to stare for a moment longer before he said, “I will try it,” and left with Enaam to get ready.

“Why are you late?” John asked when Burak returned later than Fatih, when he had left to go and pick him up in the first place.

“The technical commissioners came to collect Fatih’s kart for a suspected irregularity and took it to a sealed inspection area, planning for an overnight check,” Burak responded, handing an official document to Ricky that contained all the information on what they planned to do, how extensive it was, and what was expected of RFM.

It showed that they planned to do a full engine teardown to check for electronic involvement, cylinder pistons, crankshaft, and any other non-visible modifications, and even planned to test the fuel they had used during the session in a lab to see if all of them are legal.

The document also continued with the things they wanted from the team to be delivered to the technical commissioners: a homologation form showing that everything in it was legal, going so far as to want the technical drawings, dimensions, and specification documents to be included; the technical passport that had driver and team details, chassis number, engine serial number, and seals applied by officials before the competition started; the fuel declaration form; the tire declaration form; and even the setup sheet and ECU map printout.

Ricky, who read all of the things they were required to deliver before the teardown started, couldn’t help but say, “Looks like someone has reported us for suspected cheating,” with an amused chuckle.

He wasn’t that surprised that someone had reported them; rather, he would have been surprised if no one did, since it felt like Fatih was in a higher category kart than the rest. But that didn’t mean he was pleased, as a report also meant they had a thought in their mind that Ricky Flynn Motorsport would stoop so low as to blatantly cheat for no rewards or return at all. After all, if they were going to do it, wouldn’t it have made sense if they did it for the drivers who could win the world championship instead of a wildcard entry who was ineligible to win it?

“The mechanics are going to react the opposite of you, as they now have to stay and wait for overnight teardown to be completed and start to put the teardown paices of the kart back together before the qualifying session in the morning while making sure no performance is lost from having to rush,” John said, imagining the mechanics’ expressions, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.

“Then how about we prepare a backup kart ahead of time so that in case this one is released late, we can apply for the backup kart to be used in the following sessions,” Ricky said, placing the document on the table.

“Yeah, let’s do that. But who is going to be monitoring the kart from the technical department with the mechanics during the teardown?” Steve asked, as someone needed to be there to act as a check to avoid officials tampering with things or leaking documents to other teams.

“I will remain with the mechanics to do the monitoring,” Burak said, raising his hand, as it was Fatih’s kart in question, and he wouldn’t trust anyone but himself to be on the lookout during the inspection.

“Okay, then that is settled. Please prepare the documents they requested and deliver them as fast as possible since they can only start the teardown after they receive them, and the earlier they finish, the earlier you can leave.”

With those words, everyone scrambled to gather everything, but since everything was constantly and meticulously documented before, during, and after each session, it didn’t take too long before Burak left with a thick envelope in his hands, heading to the technical commissioners’ tent.

Fatih, who was silent from the moment Burak returned, had a bewildered look on his face.

“Did you think they were going to do nothing when you went and broke the track record forty times and just watch?” Apollo asked amidst a stomach-cramping laugh while floating around Fatih in a small, angelic-child body.

“I mean, it’s not like we did anything illegal, so I’m not really worried. Rather, it is good that they are taking proactive actions by themselves, as they will act as a counterargument to anyone who might argue that I was using an illegal engine or component to improve my pace.

Anytime someone brings that up as a possibility, all I have to do is direct them to the FIA Karting website, where they will find the official documents of my Karts teardown investigation that deemed it to be fully legal.

It will accentuates the myth even more, as I can present it with a title like, ’My pace was so fast that they had to make sure I was not cheating,’ or something like that,” Fatih answered Apollo in his mind while his still clueless-looking face focused on the helmet that was on the table, or more specifically, the camera mounted on his helmet, as it was still recording, something he had made a habit of just leaving on to collect as much footage as possible, with the same being true for the chest-mounted GoPro.

Both of them had captured the video of the situation from two different angles, meaning he most likely had a 360-degree view of the room if the two videos looking in opposite directions were combined.

“But why are you playing these games?” Apollo asked him after it took a while for him to calm down from his laughter.

“I mean, there is a slim chance that breaking the track record will be included in my [European Proving Ground] mission’s hidden achievements, and if it is not counted, then doing so for more than one hundred consecutive times should trigger something, at least if breaking ten consecutive times is not enough. And what track is better to do it on while having the confidence to accomplish it with as much possibility as possible than La Conca?” Fatih finally answered truthfully, revealing the actual reason behind his actions, but unfortunately, it was only heard by Apollo.

“So you plan to continue breaking the track lap record until the final race?” asked Apollo, now donning a serious look.

“Yes.”

“Then that will be more than a hundred and fifteen laps if we count the sixty-five you will run tomorrow and Sunday, starting from four heats with each having ten laps, fifteen for the pre-final, and twenty for the final. If we add two in the qualifying round as well, then even if a few of them are interrupted, so long as they don’t exceed fifteen laps, you can definitely have your name from the first to the hundredth on the KF-Junior category lap record on this track,” Apollo counted in amusement, as he had no thought of Fatih not being able to accomplish it.

After all, he was the one who had given him all the nightmare trainings on this track, so he knew how monstrous Fatih’s understanding of the track was, to the point that Apollo could say with confidence that even a professional adult driver couldn’t beat Fatih on this track if their weights and Karts were equal.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said before disappearing, as Fatih’s post-session debrief was about to start, and he didn’t want to distract him anymore.