In the annals of automotive history, certain codes become legend: 250 GTO, 959, R34. Others, like Honda 27-01 , remain whispers—ghost codes that haunt the periphery of enthusiast forums and forgotten patent filings. What is 27-01? It is not a production vehicle. It is not a chassis code. It is, I believe, the key to understanding Honda’s most daring road not taken.

But the real death of 27-01 was economic. The early ’90s recession had hit Japan hard. The V10’s tooling would have cost as much as the entire NSX program. And the active suspension? Too heavy, too fragile, too expensive . Honda’s board looked at the wreckage of 27-01 and the projected $800,000 (in 1994 dollars) price tag and killed the project.

The chassis was carbon fiber, sourced from the same looms that made the MP4/6. But the true innovation was the suspension: a computer-controlled active system that could lean into corners like a motorcycle. The patent for this system (filed January 27, 1991—hence “27-01”?) shows a complex array of hydraulic rams and gyroscopic sensors. It was decades ahead of its time.

Because in 2017, a YouTuber touring a private collection in Chiba, Japan, filmed a brief, 2-second shot of a tarp-covered shape. Under the tarp was a glimpse of a carbon-fiber monocoque and a set of five-lug wheels that match no known Honda production part. The curator muttered a single word before closing the door: “ Nijuunana-ichi .” Twenty-seven-one.

The next time you hear a high-revving Honda, listen closely. In the gap between 8,000 and 9,000 rpm, some say you can still hear the ghost of 27-01, screaming into the night, a V10 that never got to sing.