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The tunnel lights streamed past in two pale blue snakes. The interior of the cockpit seemed to flicker, like it was being lit by an old television showing static more than the usual strobe effect of speed.
A single red light flashed past, gone faster than his mind could note it. Every single spare iota of mindspace was dedicated solely towards keeping the car away from the outside wall.
Even as he knew as sure as he could smell the tyres starting to overheat that it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened.
He glanced again at the engine shutdown switches. He could stop the engine.... but then he’d lose hydraulics. He’d loose steering. He could barely keep the car out of the wall as it was.
The speed was obscene. It was faster than he’d ever gone on a road in his life. It was faster than he ever wanted to go. He never wanted to travel at speed again... never. No sir. Lesson learned and then some. So please let me stop now.
The thought occurred to him to just give up and let it crash.
He wasn’t human. They could pick up the debris.
He wasn’t sure if it was courageous or cowardice. He wasn’t sure what’d happen to the debris if he just wrecked it. 2 tons of metal and kerosene did not just stop. He’d give up and kill someone. He’d keep going and kill someone.
He was dead if nothing changed.
His sister would bail him out. She always did. Come flying to the rescue, punch a hole in the roof, slip right into the cockpit beside him and just fix the car. All would be well....
A refuge was gone in a blink. Eight seconds later it was a kilometre behind him. The next one was coming up just as fast. His comm gave an electronic warble. He answered it without hesitation, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder.
“Mackie...”
Ford’s voice.
“I’m sorry,”
It just blurted out, but he meant it with all his heart.
“Lets not talk about that now.” Ford’s voice was calm and certain. It was something solid to grab on to. “Let’s focus on getting you stopped. I need you to tell me how much fuel you have on that thing.”
“Fifteen, Twenty minutes maybe. Maybe 160 litres.”
“Good. Engine cuttoffs.”
“In here with me.”
The engine controls were mounted on a panel attached to the roof. Still illuminated, they were on a different circuit. N1 was at the redline, N2 was holding just below. Output shaft was at maximum, the engine’s governor kicking in to keep it from overspeeding. EPR was green. EGT was already going yellow.
As far as the engine was concerned, it was happily giving its best.
He could cut fuel pressure, or dump the fire extinguisher bottle. He could start the engine too, not that that’d help much. Disabling the governor would cause it to overspeed and explode. Cutting fuel pressure would shut it down within seconds. The fire bottle would do it even faster.
None of this would help.
“Any external network connections?”
“No. It’s just a car Ford..... nothing else.”
“Can you get it into neutral?”
He tried again. No less in vain than the last time. The gear stick went into place, but it’s electronic sender unit was powerless to send a signal.
“No response from the shifter..”
“What have you got on brakes.?
“I think I boiled the brake fluid.” He pressed on the pedal. It was still spongy beneath his foot, but the car slowed, “But I can slow down a bit. Emergency brake is gone.”
“Just keep it circulating for now. Let the brakes keep cooling. We’ll need them later.”
He swallowed that fat lump in his throat.
“Should I find somewhere to stop it.”
In that moment, Mackie hoped she’d say no. If only to prove that he had permission not to go through with it.
“Not yet.” she answered, to his relief. “We’re going to get this thing stopped. We’re going to get you out of there.... Then I’m going to kill you.”
He genuinely wasn’t sure what’d be worse. Dying in the wreck... or facing Ford afterward it was over.
Only one. But I've had a busy week.
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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?