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“I really hope you like the surprise I organized for your birthday!” Cruz tells Lightning excitedly as they drive together down the corridors of the Racing Center. “Me and the technical department team worked so hard on it!”
Once they are in the simulator’s room, Cruz reveals the first news: Willy's Butte dirt track has now been added to the software’s archive of race circuits. Lightning takes a fascinated look at the graphic rendering of the track; it looks so realistic that he feels like he is actually there in the middle of Radiator Springs’ desert canyon.
“Why don't you take a lap?” Cruz suggests. “Try not to break everything, this time!” She then adds, with a light chuckle.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” Lightning replies, rolling his eyes. “It has only happened once, and you know very well that I've learned how to handle this contraption, since that day!”
Lightning takes position on the platform, and Cruz starts the simulated race. “Hey, do you remember that time I inserted Jackson Storm’s character as your rival?” She asks him, while the other begins his lap. Cruz can feel butterflies fly in her engine in anticipation, while she counts the seconds left before the surprise she prepared will enter the scene.
“Yes, why?”
“Remember I told you I could do the same thing with anyone?” Cruz asks again, smiling. Five, four, three...
She has been a tutor for a few years now, and she has learned that, in order to train her boys in the best possible way, sometimes she has to use some psychological tricks. Just like the case of the young car from Santa Cecilia, to whom she shows photos of his birthplace to cheer him up when he’s unfocused because he feels homesick. But she has never been as nervous as she is now; McQueen is a very close friend to her, and Cruz knows very well that the memory he has of Doc is something sacred to him. That’s why she almost feels afraid that what she has organized will be perceived as offensive.
... two, one...
“What did you do this time-” McQueen starts asking her as he keeps going, when the simulator produces the image of another car next to him on the track. “-Cruz?” Lightning finishes his sentence almost in a whisper, as he stares wide-eyed in surprise at the screen in front of him; surrounded by images in the most realistic graphics he has ever seen, he’s running with ‘Doc’ on such a familiar dirt track. His track. Their track.
After an initial moment of surprise that makes him slow down, Lightning regains speed and catches up with his former coach.
It’s the hardest set of practice laps he has ever run, because so many things come to his mind at once - all things that were said to him on that very same track, from the first time he failed the turn and fell off the slope, to his last ‘race’ against Doc. Something which, sadly, had nothing left of a real race.
Lightning and his ‘rival’ are getting close to the finish line, in a tie. ‘Don't go easy on me just because I'm ill, kid!’ It's one of the last things that echoes in his mind.
But that is not the real Doc. It's nothing more than a high-tech ghost, and Lightning has no reason to let it win. Accelerating, he reaches the finish line first.
“Well?” Cruz asks impatiently when she sees Lightning come to a stop and roll back from the simulator's treadmill. “What do you think?”
Lightning turns towards her. “It... it was a wonderful surprise. Thank you very much, Cruz!”
Cruz's smile grows wider. So far so good. Lightning makes to leave, but the young car halts him; “Hey! We’re leaving so soon? Don't you at least want to know how your laps went?”
“I don't think it went that well anyway.” Lightning replies, with his back to the simulator. “It was the first time we used this track for a test drive.”
“Yeah, maybe, but... I still need to jot down the time for my records…” Cruz insists, flashing him a bright smile. Then, turning to the big screen... “Hey, Doc!” She calls.
The surprise that Lightning felt seeing his old friend running next to him is nothing compared to what he feels now that he witnesses him replying to Cruz from the new image that appears on the screen; “Yes, Cruz Ramirez?” The simulator says, in a gravelly voice that doesn’t sound like it’s something out of a mechanical system at all.
“Can you please give me the stats of Lightning’s test?”
“How…?” Lightning asks in a breath, slowly moving closer to Doc’s picture on the screen, as his former coach’s voice rolls out a few numbers and information to answer Cruz’s question. The 3D model in front of him, as it waits for other vocal commands to come, blinks and moves its eyes, taking a look around. “How did you… do this?”
“Artificial intelligence. The same kind of software that my digital assistant Vettel was made with.” Cruz explains proudly. “The technical department team worked for weeks on this interface! I wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It’s… incredible!” Lightning says, staring in disbelief at the screen. “He looks so real… you even reproduced his voice!”
“I asked some Radiator Springs friends if they had some home videos or things like that. But, in the end, what we used for the audio tracks is mostly taken from clips and behind-the-scenes of that interview that was made to both you and Doc after your first Piston Cup win.”
Lightning is trying his best to find something to say, still surprised by the lengths Cruz went to realize what’s in front of him, but no words seem to come. “But… why did you do all of this?”
“You once told me that your greatest wish would be being able to talk to him one more time.” Cruz says. “I know that it’s not the same thing, but… You helped me make my biggest dream come true, and I wanted to try and do something for you in turn.” The young car explains with a shy smile.
“I… I don’t know what to say!” Lightning turns towards her, moved by her gesture. “Thank you so much, Cruz!”
“Why don’t you try and say something to him?” The young car suggests.
Lightning turns back to the screen and takes a moment to think. “Hi, Doc.” He then greets, almost shily.
“Hi, Lightning!” The screen replies.
“I miss you so much…”
“There’s no need to. I’ve never gone anywhere.”
One point for whoever made this, Lightning thinks. This is definitely something that the real Doc would say. “How… How did I do today, on the track?” He asks.
The AI software takes a couple of seconds to reply. “As far as I know, you’ve done way better than this. If you want to try again, I can reset the timer.”
The program hiccups every now and then, as it puts the sentences together, resulting in a robotic tone that makes Lightning cringe a little, but he still smiles. “Why not? Would you run against me?”
“The Fabulous Hudson Hornet is always up for a challenge!” The simulator replies, and the 3D model lowers on its chassis, smiling confidently.
“It’s decided, then!” Lightning says, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s have a race.”
“Choose a track to run on.”
“Willy’s Butte, of course!”
This new set of laps goes way better than the previous one, and when Lightning comes down from the treadmill, he asks Cruz for his score.
“You’ve done even better than the last few times!” Cruz comments, while she jots the data down in her logs. “Fly like a Cadillac…” She then says, raising her voice just a little bit so that the computer can hear her, to activate another preset interaction that her colleagues added to the software.
Immediately, in fact, the computer replies finishing her sentence: “… sting like a Beemer.”
Lightning chuckles, thinking back to the times he and Doc used the same joke. It feels like he’s living inside one big, interactive memory and he wishes that this could go on forever. “What do you think of my new paint job?” McQueen finds himself asking at some point. He knows that it’s not the real Hudson he’s asking this to, but he can’t help himself.
“…I’m sorry.” Is what ‘Doc’ replies, with a neutral tone. “I can’t see what you look like.”
“I got a blue paint job just like yours. To look more like you, now that I’ve become a crew chief myself.” Lightning tries again, describing what the AI can’t see. “What do you think of it?”
“Blue is my favorite color.”
“Yeah…” Lightning’s brows furrow in disappointment. Technology has got its limits. “What was I hoping for…” He says to himself, lowering his gaze.
“I don’t know. Would you like to tell me?” The software says, responding to his words, and Lightning looks back up to the screen.
“I hoped…” The red car begins to say, but he falls silent. I hoped for your validation. I wanted to know if you… if the real you would have hated such a gesture, if it would have been odd for you, or if you would have liked it. I wanted you to tell me if I am doing good. But these are all doubts that are way too personal for him to share them in front of Cruz, who is still standing a few meters away from him in the room. “I was hoping for answers, to be honest.” He says. After all, that is still a truthful answer.
“Try asking me something. I’m here to answer you.”
“What do you think of me?” Lightning then asks.
“You won the Piston Cup championship seven times. You have a good average of wins per season. This makes you a great racer, Lightning McQueen.”
“Well, thank you Doc! But what do you think of me?”
“I think you are very nice to talk to,” the computer replies, and the 3D picture smiles, making Lightning smile as well.
But there is something missing. Something has been missing throughout the entire ‘conversation’ he’s having with the AI software.
Come on, say it! I know you can do it! Lightning thinks towards the screen. You were programmed so well. You know about our jokes, there's no way you don't know about that too! Say it. But the software doesn’t give him what he’s looking for. The picture on the screen keeps moving and looking around thanks to the idle animations it was given, but it doesn’t say anything else.
“I almost forgot!” Cruz says, moving closer. “I wanted you to find all of the different interactions by yourself, but… There is yet another thing that we added.” Then, lowering her voice, she adds: “Tell him what day it is today.”
Lightning looks at her, not quite understanding why she’s saying such a thing. “Friday?”
“No, not that!” Cruz rolls her eyes, amused. “Hey, Doc! Did you know that today it’s his birthday?” She then says, turning towards the computer’s screen.
“I know. I would never forget.” The 3D character smiles. “Happy birthday, son!”
Lightning feels his heart skip a beat. He stands still, as if petrified by what he’s just heard. There it is, the thing that had been missing. There it is, the single word he has been missing more than anything in this world for over seven years, now.
That nickname, said by Doc’s own voice, breaks him harder than any other memory that was summoned so far.
And when he finally takes a sharp breath in, a tear slides down from his eyes. “Thank you…” He whispers.
“Is everything okay?” Cruz asks him, slowly getting closer to him.
The other car nods, smiling among his tears. “Thank you,” he repeats, this time to her.
“It was so nice to see you again, my friend!” Lightning says, once he recovers from the moment of nostalgia that took hold of him.
“Same for me.” The software replies.
“Thank you for being with us today, Doc.” Cruz thanks, and the 3D picture nods smiling.
“I’m always here, when you need me.” The simulator then says, just before the screen turns off, catching both cars off guard.
Lightning stares at his reflection in what now is just a giant, black computer screen. I know you are, Doc. He thinks with a smile, looking at the colors he’s wearing. I know you are.