Auditory Mapping's arrival was like a new sense being switched on for Leo.
It was not loud. It was not dramatic. It was simply present, the way sight was present, the way touch was present.
The rain hitting the track had always made sound, a constant, white-noise roar that Leo had heard for thirty laps without registering it as information. Now, it was the most detailed data channel he had.
The standing water at Degner Two hissed differently than the thin film on the racing line through the S-Curves. The hiss was higher-pitched, sharper, the sound of a thicker layer of liquid being displaced by the rotating mass of the tires.
The dry patches, those narrow strips of tarmac where the camber drained the surface effectively, produced almost nothing. A whisper compared to the standing water's sharp, metallic report.
