The Ship: The New Frontiers Series, Book One Page 16

  “Sure, Morty. What have you got in mind?”

  “You’re going to be in charge of aviation, so I wanted to ask a favor. Do you think you could--

  Chapter Fourteen

  A short, heavy-set balding man walked down the hallway. He wasn’t smiling, because he’d been summoned to the office of his superior. He knocked on the door and waited. A male secretary answered and gestured across the outer office to the door into the colonel’s office.

  Major André Kotcheff took a deep breath, tugged at the hem of his coat, then went in and stood in front of the desk. He waited while the colonel studied the paper before him. This gave the major a few moments to study the colonel. Too much good food, too much vodka, not enough exercise, he thought. I need to get out more, maybe work out or at least get in some running. I don’t want to end up like this fat fool.

  “You failed, Major. This is your failure. All that money, and you got nothing. Nothing!”

  “Sir, I wasn’t there. I was here in New York the entire time. The people I hired were competent, but who could have expected...”

  The colonel interrupted him. “I was here in New York too, but then I didn’t spend money for nothing! You’re supposed to anticipate what people will do, Major! This report...it doesn’t say enough, not nearly enough. I allowed you an operating budget, but you managed to blow all of it, every dollar, and you have nothing to show for it! What were you thinking?”

  “Sir, I saw an opportunity. As you know, we’re watching what those others are doing but we can’t get inside the new plant where they make those things. They’re not in full production yet, we know that. They’re not buying enough supplies for one thing, and they’re not shipping anything. We’re watching the trucking companies and very little is happening. The only way they can get supplies in or move the devices out is by truck, and that’s not happening. Our satellites pass over the factory four times a day, so we know nothing important is happening.

  “What they do have is a few workers, and maybe enough material on hand to make a few of the devices. We don’t know, because we only recently became aware of their new facility. I knew they had people working in Chicago, but they weren’t involved with manufacturing. I have contacts among the dockworkers, so I’d know if that was going on. All they were doing was working on a barge, at least until about a week ago. They rented welders and air compressors, things like that, and on Wednesday they returned them, so they were finished with whatever they were doing. But all they’d done was do some welding and cutting, not manufacturing. They used a rented crane to emplace a large generator Wednesday afternoon, after they’d returned the tools they’d rented, so I judged they were finished with whatever they were doing. I wondered if they were going to move the device across the lake, and clearly it was something very heavy or they wouldn’t have needed the barge. I have a report from my agent in Chicago, colonel. Would you like to see it?”

  “No, major. I have your report, and you were in charge. You made the decisions. You chose to spend money trying to capture this barge. A barge? What were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all? Did the fact that I was out of my office somehow make you confident that you could go ahead without consulting me?”

  “No, sir. I didn’t have time to contact you, colonel. The people in Chicago took delivery of a cargo Thursday. I don’t know what it was, they did all the uncrating on the barge, and my agent couldn’t get a look at it. Whatever was in the crates, they moved it below the barge’s upper deck. He got a look at the crating materials, but there was no label or anything to tell what was in the crates. I realized that for the first time, they’d probably moved one of the devices away from their factory. We can’t get in there, but if I could get my hands on the machine it wouldn’t matter. We have very good scientists and I’m sure they can reverse-engineer this thing, whatever it is. So I told my agent what I wanted done, sent him the money, and he hired reliable people. He also put armed men on a power launch, in case the people on shore had problems, and paid a towboat operator to go in and bring the barge out. They were in a harbor with a dock behind them, land on both sides, and our boats between them and the entrance. There was nowhere they could go, and no time to dismantle the device and carry it away. My agent had men on shore to board the barge, and as soon as they’d captured or eliminated everyone, the boats were to come in. The launch was intended to guard the towboat while it moved the barge. We had a place to moor it, and once it was in our hands we would have as much time as we needed. It was a chance for us to find out exactly what this thing is and see how it works. All we had to do was take it away from them. Who could have guessed they’d blow holes in the barge and sink it out in middle of the harbor?”

  “They blew holes in it? How could they have expected your people to be there? Explosions take preparation, major, you just don’t scuttle a barge without preparation!”

  “I don’t know, colonel. But the men on shore heard loud bangs and the barge sank, so it had to be scuttling charges.”

  “Can we use divers to find the barge, major?”

  “We know where it is, colonel, but we can’t get to it. There’s a patrol boat cruising in the harbor and a salvage crew working.”

  “So you failed. Your agent, this man you entrusted this to; was this your plan or his?”

  “I came up with the idea, move in quick and take the device, but he decided how to accomplish the task. He was the man on the scene, so I trusted him to see the job was done right.”

  “One more of your many failures, major! What led you to believe you could trust this man to do what you wanted instead of taking our money and disappearing into this benighted country?”

  “That was indeed an error, colonel. I believed that he was trustworthy because he was one of the men you’ve used before. I should have investigated further or even gone to Chicago to oversee the operation.”

  “That...will be all, major. You are dismissed.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Frenchy’s ‘talk’ lasted about fifteen minutes. A chastened Lina headed back for the break room while Chuck remained.

  “I’ll watch myself. I know Lina is likely to be changed in some way by what happened to her, but I can’t simply reject her. I’ll be careful.”

  “She’s a grownup, so that’s all I can ask.”

  “I’ve got a suggestion, Frenchy. We might be able to divert attention from what we’re really doing if we made a production of shutting down the old warehouse and putting up a For Sale sign.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “How about this? We get a locksmith to change all the locks, then shut off all the lights except for one. The only thing we’ve got left there is the forklift, so we bring it with us and either return it to the company we leased it from or buy it. We’re starting to produce impellers and we need a forklift to move stuff around. Put a guard on the warehouse at night, maybe only for a week or two, then just lock the doors and the gates. Leave everything locked down so that it looks like we’ve given up. If anyone is still watching the building, they’re welcome to break in.”

  “A red herring? I don’t know whether the opposition will buy that, but I suppose it can’t hurt. Okay, I’ll see that it’s done. Anything else?”

  “We’ll be piloting the King by this weekend, if you want to come out. This time the ride will be more comfortable. We’ve got permanent seats in the back and a wider windscreen. It’s not a complete canopy, but it should be a comfortable ride. Want to give it a try? Maybe even learn to pilot it?”

  “I like the idea, but I don’t have the time. I’m really busy with negotiations. I’ve got lawyers handling the low-level meetings, but the big guys want to talk directly to me. We’re working out the details of property easements for the high-voltage line and how much I’m prepared to contribute, directly or indirectly, to political parties. I won’t do it myself, but I’ll see that it happens. This is all word of mouth, no paperwork, so trust is important.”

  “Trust from cr
ooks. That’s what this really is, you know, paying bribes to crooks.”

  “Shh. Don’t use the B-word! Those are campaign contributions, given in good faith.”

  “Yeah, right. Investments, probably deductible too.”

  “Sure. I’ll probably also set up a foundation, and Will and the others will too. None of us will turn down an opportunity to reduce our tax bite. In a sense, the government will be contributing about a third of what they get.” Frenchy shrugged. “It’s just the way things are done now.”

  “I suppose. Anyway, I’m going to bed. I’ve been up about sixteen hours and I’ve got to get up again in about six. Mel can do some of the wiring up, all that’s left, but I will do the final checks of the King myself. I’ll be writing the manual for this one, working up altitude limits and power consumption times based on loads and weather. The batteries work better in warmer weather and wind is a major factor. The King isn’t aerodynamic at all.”

  “I can see that. Will and I were talking and he mentioned an old saying among pilots. ‘Given enough power, even a brick will fly.’”

  “Makes sense. Anyway, I’ll see you next time. I’m going to work on the King so I can take a few days for the Tesla’s shakedown cruise.”

  “If I don’t get back here before, I’ll see you when we sail. You’ve done a good job with the improved Bedstead and the King.”

  “Thanks.” Chuck reached out and the two shook hands, then Frenchy turned and left.

  #

  Lina and Chuck finished the wiring and setup on the King, then installed two freshly-charged battery packs in the aft compartments. Chuck’s schedule was tight; he had time to run the initial tests on the King, but he’d need to hustle to make his flight if he wanted to be present for the Tesla’s shakedown voyage.

  The King could use up to four packs for longer flights, but for the initial tests two would be plenty, and this reserved other battery packs for the Twin Otter when it arrived. The Bedstead had never been flown at high altitudes and the King would observe the same limit, meaning that even a single battery pack with 10% remaining charge provided enough power to land the craft. The battery compartments were connected in parallel to a main power buss; this meant that regardless of the number of battery packs, voltage remained the same. Each battery pack added about half an hour’s flight time if loaded to maximum gross weight, meaning that the King could haul passengers or cargo for about two hours before the batteries would need recharging.

  Mel made himself scarce, gathering additional data while flying the Bedstead around the course Chuck had laid out. If the King was a truck, the re-designed Bedstead was more akin to a sports car.

  Lina and Chuck appreciated the opportunity, but limited their contact to hugs and occasional kisses. Mel, being considerate, called the hangar ten minutes before he brought the Bedstead home.

  So went the remainder of the week. By Friday, the King was ready for its first test. Chuck intended to hover at low altitude, no more than a foot off the hangar floor, for the first half hour, then try a sequence of simple maneuvers. Moving forward, backing, turning, and drifting broadside to port and starboard would show that the control system was working as expected. The batteries would still have enough residual charge to park the King.

  Mel had made an alteration to both craft. Thick straps now ran on each side of the pilot’s station, terminating in a large canvas bundle behind the passenger seats.

  “What’s this, Mel? Is this something you came up with on your own?”

  “Not exactly, Chuck. I talked to Morty about something that had been bothering me. We’re going to be running new kinds of flight tests, and that’s going to include altitude and maneuvering tests. He had the parachutes shipped in and I installed them. The Bedstead gets one cargo parachute, the King gets three.” Mel climbed up on the Bedstead and pointed out the features. “The chutes are attached to a four-point suspension system, two links in the front and two at the rear. They’re adjusted so that the craft sinks rear first at a thirty-five degree angle. If the chutes are ever deployed, that gives the crew a chance to walk away from it, since it will be descending rear first and the seats provide back support. This is something like what astronauts did, land backward. The ripcord runs under the seat and the handle is clipped here, between the pilot’s legs. Don’t pull that D-handle unless you intend to come down by chute.”

  “How high are you planning to go, Mel?”

  “Eventually, three or four thousand feet, Chuck. That’s high enough to do some roll tests and recover from them. I’ll take it in stages and only roll about ten or fifteen degrees. I start at low altitude first, see if the impellers will tumble inside the containers and if they do, how long it takes for the electronics to reset. If the gyros tumble and we can’t reset them in time, I can likely avoid serious injury. I hope. If there’s going to be a problem, it should happen before I gain much altitude.”

  “Okay, I can understand that. But you be damned careful. These things are perfect illustrations of that old pilot’s saying about enough power and flying rocks. We haven’t needed to worry much, because we’ve remained low and relatively slow.”

  “I’ll have to push the envelope during the tests, Chuck, and Morty and I both feel better about having a means of survival. I don’t see us ever needing ejection seats, but an individual parachute for the pilot might someday be part of his flight equipment. I’ll install a passive instrument package to measure the impact force, just in case I’m ever forced to deploy the chute.”

  “You’re not going to test it before you need it?”

  “Nope. It’s a one-time thing. If it doesn’t work, well, the pilot won’t be any worse off. But we’ve got more than a thousand hours on the latest-model Bedstead, and so far, it’s as reliable as any helicopter.”

  #

  Mel waited with Lina as Chuck strapped himself into the pilot’s chair. The King sat quietly, a huge beast that bore no relationship to something intended for flight. For that matter, neither had the original Bedstead or the heavily-modified replacement, but those now had hundreds of hours of flight time.

  Chuck glanced at the charge indicator, centered in the console to his front, then flipped the switch for the main power buss. Twisting the motorcycle-style throttle on the stick...the thumbwheel was gone, the twist throttle replacing it..., he listened to the faint whines as the impellers powered up. Pressing a button, he watched the dials as the computer made microscopic adjustments to each impeller. Frowning, Chuck noticed that the portside forward impeller was drawing ten percent more power than the others. Something not right about that, but since he was only going for a low-level hover...

  It was something to look at later. He wasn’t going anywhere, just bringing the craft to a hover and holding it a foot in the air. This test would last half an hour, then he’d try out the directional controls before landing. Maybe they should replace that questionable impeller before the next flight? he thought.

  Nodding to the others, Chuck eased back on the floor-mounted joystick. The long joystick allowed very sensitive adjustments to the computer’s input, something considerably more difficult when using the Bedstead’s short game-style controller.

  Impellers whined as he eased back on the stick. The King wasn’t as responsive as the Bedstead, but he could feel the added power in the bigger unit. He glanced to port and starboard, bringing the deck level with marks on a pair of vertical stands; the simple devices provided an instant reference for the hover test. Chuck centered the control stick and watched the instruments. Satisfied, he took his eyes off the panel and glanced at Lina. “Look ma, no hands!” Chuck gleefully exclaimed.

  Lina glanced at Mel and both shook their heads ruefully. “Kind of full of himself, isn’t he?” said Mel.

  “He’s a showoff, that’s for sure.”

  “Think I’ll take the Bedstead out for a spin. You can watch him while he sits there and watches the lights blink.”

  “Okay, Mel. With Chuck flying one and you flying t
he other, I might just as well find a book to read.”

  “Absolutely. You’ve worked as hard as any of us, you deserve a break. I’ve been meaning to tell you, you really pitched in. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

  “I’ve loved it, Mel. It was just what I needed.”

  Suddenly the high-pitched whine changed. Both glanced around, wide eyed. Chuck was frantically trying to control the craft as the King pitched up and tried to roll clockwise. The low altitude meant it wasn’t able to roll more than a few degrees before the starboard aft corner struck the floor. The impeller snapped off and the frame twisted. Smoke gushed from beneath the deck as the main buss shorted out. The whining faded as the king slammed to the floor. Chuck slumped unmoving over the control panel that had slammed into his body.

  Mel climbed onto the deck, reaching for the buckles, as Lina ran for the nearest fire extinguisher.

  #

  Will taxied the small business jet to the parking ramp and he and Frenchy exited, walking down the boarding stairs that had been rolled out as soon as the plane landed.

  “Little bit fancier than that dirt strip by the plant, Frenchy.”

  “So is your plane, Will.” Frenchy chuckled. “But we’ll pave the airstrip in a month or so. That runway will eventually support an airliner, maybe even one of the jumbo jets.”

  “Going to take more than paving to do that, Frenchy.”

  “I know. That’s in the works, laying the foundation first, then paving the runway, just not right away. Doesn’t look like anyone is here to meet us. I guess we’ll have to take a taxi.”

  “Wonder where Chuck is? He said he’d be here. He wants to go on the shakedown cruise, and I think he’s earned it. Morty decided to skip this one. He’s not all that interested in the marine system anyway. Designing it, that was one thing, but using it doesn’t really interest him. But I expected Chuck to be waiting for us.”