Chapter 3

"Welcome back to Chick's Picks with Chick Hicks !" shouted Racing Sports Network television host Chick Hicks. He wore a big grin as he stood beside his Piston Cup in front of a wall-sized screen. "I'm your host, former and forever Piston Cup Champion Chick Hicks. Doot-doot-doot-do! This just in: rookie Jackson Storm slams the proverbial door on Lightning McQueen. Ooooh, I couldn't have enjoyed it more if I'd beaten Lightning myself. Oh, wait, I have!"

On the screen flashed a photo of Lightning's shocked expression when he lost to Storm.

"But enough about me," continued Chick. "Here to tell you how it happened is professional number-cruncher Miss Natalie Certain!"

The camera widened to reveal a smart, confident, ruby-colored car standing at the other end of the screen. "It's a pleasure to be here, Chick," said Natalie. "And actually, I prefer the term 'statistical analyst.' "

"Right. So ... who is this mysterious newcomer, Jackson Storm, and why is he so darn fast?" asked Chick.

Statistics and other information suddenly filled the screen behind them as Natalie explained: "It's no mystery if you study the data, Mr. Hicks. Jackson Storm is part of the next generation of high-tech racers—unlike the veterans of yesterday."

Chick displayed the photo of Lightning's face again, close up so the viewers at home could see him. "What? Old-timers like this guy?" He chuckled.

"Um ... right," said Natalie, getting back to business. "Storm achieves his top speeds by exploiting the numbers." A picture of Storm appeared. "I refer, of course, to racing data." She rolled her eyes at the sight of the photo. "Tire pressure, down force, weight distribution, aerodynamics ... and Next Gens—like Storm—are taking advantage. The racing world is changing."

Chick smiled. "And for the better, if it means my old rival, Lightning, is down for the count. Am I right, Certain?"

"Well, if I'm certain of anything, Chick, it's that this season is about to get even more interesting," said Natalie.

The following night, an anxious crowd at the speedway roared with anticipation as racers ran the pace lap under the moon's glow.

Above the track, inside the little booth in the tower, Bob Cutlass and Darrell Cartrip watched, analyzing the action below.

"I'll tell you what, Darrell," said Bob, looking down on the track. "Jackson Storm has certainly made an impact. ... We've got six more next-generation rookies in the field ..."

"... with six veterans fired to clear the way," added Darrell.

The six new racers were in sync as they headed toward the green flag. In a way, it was as if they were all variations of the same car.

Storm was up in front, in the pole position, and Lightning was right beside him. "Morning, champ," said Storm. "And how's our living legend today?"

"Uh, still very much alive, thank you," said Lightning, "and I would appreciate—"

"You know," Storm interrupted, "I can't believe I get to race the Lightning McQueen in his farewell season."

"What you talking about?" Lightning asked.

"Oops, green flag. Good luck out there, champ! You're gonna need it."

The flag dropped, and Storm took off. Lightning angrily revved his engine and raced after him.

More next-gen rookies appeared around Lightning, effortlessly moving ahead of him. They seemed to race with robotic precision. As hard as he tried, Lightning couldn't pull in front. He continued to push himself and managed to get ahead of some of the rookies, but Storm held the lead. As the flag dropped and the race ended, Storm was the first to finish again.

Even though Lightning had given his all, he came in third.

Meanwhile, at the Racing Sports Network studio, Natalie Certain and Chick Hicks continued to discuss her research on his show.

"One reason Storm and the Next Gens are more efficient? Their ability to hold the optimum racing line every single lap."

The racing world buzzed over the next few days as Storm continued to win race after race. And as Storm's winning streak wore on, Lightning became more and more frustrated. Reporters couldn't stop talking about Storm. Natalie Certain's show, Morning Piston Cup , had more viewers than ever. In fact, every show on the Racing Sports Network had something to say about the amazing new rookie.

Lightning couldn't get through a minute of his day without hearing something about Storm.

Natalie Certain analyzed his every move: "Storm's in a class of his own, and a big reason for that? Training on the newest cutting-edge simulators." As she spoke, the camera showed footage of Storm on a high-tech simulator. "These machines create a virtual racing experience that is so real, the racers never even have to go outside," she explained.

Chick Hicks interviewed Storm at Flathead Motor Speedway after a race. "Piston Cup winner Chick Hicks here—with the racer who is taking the circuit by storm! Jackson Storm!" Chick flashed a big smile as he stood beside Storm in Victory Lane. "Another easy win over old Ka-chow —or should I say Ka-boose ? 'Cause he's always in the back! Am I right?"

Out in the trailer area, Lightning looked up at the Jumbotron as he rolled by. He stopped to listen to Storm's answer.

"No, no, no, Chick," answered Storm. "Lightning is a crafty veteran champ. He's the elder statesman of the sport, ya know? Takes everything I got to beat him."

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Lightning said to himself, irritated. When he turned away from the Jumbotron, he saw his sponsors, Rusty and Dusty, surrounded by a pack of reporters.

"Rusty and Dusty!" the reporters shouted. They shot a series of questions at the sponsors.

"What changes are you going to make to get Lightning McQueen back on top?" said one.

"Will Lightning try new training methods?" asked another.

"Is he prepared to retire? Are you prepared to retire him?" asked yet another.

Lightning rolled over to try to help as Rusty and Dusty stammered. "Come on, guys," said Lightning. "Let's not overreact. It's just a slump. We'll get 'em next week."

The reporters immediately swarmed Lightning. "Over here!" shouted one.

"Hey, Lightning!" shouted another.

"Okay, that's enough," he said, trying to make them stop. "No comment."

"Not even about Cal Weathers retiring?" asked one reporter.

"Wait, what?" asked Lightning, stopping in his tracks.

"Cal Weathers. He's hanging up his Lightyears," said the reporter.

"No," said Lightning. "No comment on that, either." And he rolled away.

He rushed over to Cal, who was backing into his trailer. "Hey, Cal? Hey! Retirement? What's going on?"

Cal smiled when he saw Lightning. "I asked my uncle once how I'd know when it was time to stop," he answered. "Ya know what he said? 'The youngsters 'll tell ya.' "

Lightning didn't know how to respond.

Just as Cal's trailer door began to close, he added, "We had some good times together. Gonna miss that the most, I think."

"Yeah," said Lightning.

Cal disappeared behind the door, and Lightning was left alone. A wave of shock and sadness washed over him. How could Cal be done? How was it that Lightning would never get another chance to race with him? Lightning stood there frozen, watching the truck drive off. He would give anything to go back to the way it was ... before Storm was on the scene.