Acid Sky (11 page)

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Authors: Mark Anson

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Acid Sky
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A Frigate aircraft rolled past, pulled by one of the deck tugs. She followed Shaffer as he ducked under its tail, and stepped over the maze of power cables and compressed air hoses that snaked across the hangar floor.

‘Here we are.’ He patted the side of another Frigate parked near the centre of the hangar. ‘Callsign Houseboat Zero Two. Come with me and we’ll do the walkround.’

The aircraft was one of the eight Frigate 200s on board the
Langley
, and seemed tiny after the spaceplane. It was a high-wing design, with twin turbofan engines mounted in podded nacelles below the wings. The outer sections of the long wings were folded over the aircraft’s back to save space in the hangar. Clare had flown a modified version of the aircraft on Earth, during her training for this posting, but it had been some months ago. She listened carefully as Shaffer went round, showing her all the things that Clare should be examining, as well as some unique aspects of its design.

‘We need very high levels of reliability here,’ he said, peering into the left engine. ‘Every critical system – engines, fuel, flying controls – has multiple redundant backups, and the aircraft has excellent gliding characteristics in the event of a total engine failure, so that you can make it back to the carrier. You can even jettison the engine pods in an emergency, to reduce weight and extend the glide range.’

They inspected the engines, the flight controls, the landing gear, the arresting hook, and the condition of all the instrument ports, before Shaffer was satisfied. Finally, he ducked into the open boarding hatch and climbed aboard.

The interior of the Frigate was designed to carry two flight crew and up to twelve passengers, or a tonne and a half of freight, in the cabin behind. In an emergency, jump seats could be pulled out that allowed an extra four passengers to be squeezed into the cramped cabin. Clare closed the hatch behind them and made her way past the front row of passenger seats into the cockpit. Shaffer had taken the right-hand seat, leaving the commander’s position for her. While she sat down and adjusted her seat, he selected the deck frequency and called the deck handlers:

‘Deck Ops, Houseboat Zero Two, radio check and clear power up.’

‘One Four, read you five by five, clear power up.’

‘One Four.’ He glanced across at Clare. ‘You want to do this?’

‘Sure.’ Clare tried to remember the startup procedure from when she had trained back on Earth. Master switch – Shaffer had already turned that on. Ground power – selected. Pitot heat – on. And so on and so on, slowly bringing the aircraft to life and preparing it for flight. She wasn’t familiar with the pressurisation controls, as these were different from back on Earth, but Shaffer helped her through that, and after a few minutes he said that she could open her faceplate, as the air was now breathable.

‘Just make sure the hatch is locked before you open your helmet,’ he added, tapping the door control panel. ‘It has been known for deck handlers to try to open the hatch when the aircraft’s pressurised.’

Clare nodded and unlatched her faceplate and slid it open. Shaffer’s manner was more abrupt than Hartigan’s had been, and she was nervous of making a mistake. He was very thorough, and it took them some time to get through the checklist. By the time he called for the tug to take them forwards on to the deck elevator, she felt confident that the Frigate was completely airworthy, and the checkout had reminded her where all the controls were. It all helped, and she relaxed somewhat.

The aircraft quivered as the deck handlers attached the tow bar to the nose gear, and a few moments later, the deck handler signalled for the parking brake to be released, and the tug started to pull the Frigate forwards across the hangar floor towards the deck elevator. Stains from oil and hydraulic fluid leaks had run down the white walls of the elevator pit, and soot marks from engines gave it a dirty look.

The patch of blue sky above the elevator pit came into view, and a deck handler disconnected the tug and signalled for the hold down clamps to be engaged. The clamps went in with a reassuring thump, locking the aircraft to the elevator. The roaring of air above the open elevator pit changed as the hangar doors closed behind them, altering the acoustics of the pit.

They went through the engine start sequence, and once both engines were running, the deck handler walked away from the aircraft with a wave, and stepped off the edge of the elevator platform. Shaffer reached up to the overhead panel and operated the switch to spread the wings. They unfolded with a whine of actuators and he waited until they had locked in place. They went through the rest of the pre-takeoff checks while they were in the elevator pit, including checking all the controls for full and free movement. Shaffer took a good look all round, then called the tower:

‘Tower, Houseboat Zero Two, engines running, on internal power, request elevator raise.’

‘Houseboat Zero Two, raising elevator. Report ready for takeoff.’

‘Zero Two.’

With a jerk, the elevator started to move upwards, and the light grew around them as the aircraft rose up to the flight deck. The deck spoiler that deflected the airflow over the elevator pit retracted as they drew close to the deck, and the noise of the wind erupted round them.

The Frigate quivered in the gale as the elevator stopped and locked in place. In the small aircraft, Clare felt horribly exposed – the carrier’s deck and the expanse of blue sky seemed to stretch all around her, and she could feel the aircraft trying to fly, struggling against the grip of the hold down clamps.

‘Maintain a slight forward pressure on the stick,’ Shaffer reminded her.

Clare pushed the stick forwards, and the Frigate stopped shaking and felt more secure.

‘Okay …’ Shaffer checked the instruments one last time, and glanced round the cockpit. ‘You ready?’

‘Sure.’ Clare gripped the stick with her left hand and placed her right hand on the thrust levers.

‘Zero Two, ready for takeoff.’

‘Houseboat Zero Two, clear takeoff. Straight ahead after takeoff heading two seven five, climb to six one five and left turn into circuit, stay in circuit, call when ready for descent.’

Shaffer read the clearance back, and glanced over to Clare. ‘Okay, takeoff power.’

Clare pushed the thrust levers forward and held them there. There was a moment’s pause while the turbofans spooled up, then a rising whine as the engines gobbled in the air. The Frigate shook, straining against the hold down clamps.

‘Full power.’

Shaffer reached forward and gripped a handrail on the side of the control console, and with his other hand retracted the wing spoilers and flicked on the landing lights, signalling that they were ready to go. There was a brief pause, then suddenly they were thrown back in their seats as the clamps released.

The aircraft shot forward and upwards, and for a moment Clare was disoriented, then her training took over and she pushed the nose down to stay at the optimum climbout angle. The Frigate gathered speed quickly, and the end of the flight deck rushed past below them, leaving the aircraft suspended in the blue sky, with the cloud deck far below. She flicked her helmet sun visor down against the glare.

‘Positive climb,’ Shaffer reported, looking all around them for other aircraft.

‘Gear up.’

Shaffer moved the landing gear selector to the
UP
position, and watched as the gear position indicators showed the gear in transit, then went out as it locked up and stowed. The roar of air outside lessened as the doors closed, and the Frigate accelerated into the climb. Clare held it there until they hit 61,500 metres, then reduced power and banked into a 180° left turn that took them back alongside the carrier on its port side.

‘Not like the simulator, is it?’ Shaffer said.

‘No sir.’ Clare had done this countless times in the simulator, and in a Frigate back on Earth from a fixed runway, but the sensations that washed over her now were utterly unexpected; seeing the carrier below her had made her realise just how
small
they were in this vast sky, and how vulnerable they were. There was nowhere else to land, and no sea to ditch in if they couldn’t make it back to the carrier.

They flew two circuits round the carrier in a left-hand racetrack pattern, going through the landing drills until Clare felt confident, before Shaffer called the tower:

‘Tower, Zero Two, in circuit abeam, request descent and landing.’

‘Zero Two, clear descent, report when downwind.’

‘Zero Two.’ Shaffer looked across at Clare. ‘Okay, you take it from here, I’ll remind you at each stage.’

Clare opened the speed brakes and reduced power, and took them into a descending left turn into the downwind leg.

‘That’s good. Don’t forget the hook.’ Clare nodded and operated the control, and the arresting hook under the Frigate’s tail lowered, ready to catch the waiting wire.

‘Zero Two, downwind,’ Shaffer reported to the tower.

‘Zero Two, you are number one for landing. Report visual and fuel state.’

‘Zero Two, carrier in sight, fuel state is three decimal eight tonnes.’ Shaffer glanced across to Clare, watching as she descended towards two hundred metres above the carrier.

‘Landing checklist,’ she called. They ran through the items quickly, Shaffer reading out each item as it came up on one of the displays. As she confirmed the last item, her heart started to pound; the landing was very close now. Shaffer glanced out of the side window, watching their position relative to the carrier.

‘Get ready to turn – wait –
now
.’

Clare pulled the stick over, and banked the Frigate into the final turn. She maintained the bank angle, keeping the rate of descent constant, and rounded out of the turn with the carrier dead ahead.

‘That’s very nice. Now just fly this altitude until you intercept the glideslope.’

Clare didn’t respond; she was too focused on the carrier ahead and on scanning her instruments.

‘Got it.’ The flight display showed the glideslope capture. A quick glance forward and she could see the carrier coming closer.

‘Zero Two, you are on glideslope, your fuel state three decimal eight. Landing system lock, clear to land, release hook and hold for instructions when down.’

‘Zero Two.’ Shaffer released the transmit. ‘Call the ball when you’re established.’

Clare nodded. She couldn’t see it yet, and the Frigate was pitching and heaving in the turbulent air behind the carrier, unlike the spaceplane, which had been rock steady all the way in. She found herself having to move the thrust levers constantly to keep on speed and on the glideslope. Then suddenly, she could see the ball, its orange eye looking back up the glideslope and into her own. She thumbed her transmit.

‘Zero Two, ball, fuel state three decimal seven, established.’

‘Zero Two, land.’

Now there was nothing between her and the carrier but her own skill, and the treacherous, boiling air in the carrier’s wake. The Frigate heaved again, and she corrected. Too much – she was slightly to the right of centre, and she had to correct again. Then she sank below the glideslope, and had to add more power, then she went high, and all the time the carrier was getting closer.

‘Airspeed,’ Shaffer reminded her, and she realised she had become fixated on the glideslope and had allowed her airspeed to fall away. She added a touch more power. It was all happening too fast – there was so much to think about, even with the head-up display to help her.

The carrier rushed towards her, the lines of lights outlining the flight deck, and she concentrated on the scene ahead, adjusting the thrust to stay on the slope. Just as she swept over the ramp, the ball was moving upwards, and the aircraft slammed into the deck. She shoved the thrust levers forwards, Shaffer’s hand joining hers, but there was no deceleration, and she cursed herself silently as she lifted the nose and powered up and off the flight deck. A lousy missed wire.

‘Zero Two, missed wire, straight ahead and climb to six one five, left turn into circuit, call when ready for descent.’

‘Zero Two,’ Clare responded, her voice flat. She knew that even the most experienced pilots missed the wire, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling stupid. She climbed to the assigned altitude, and turned left into the circuit again.

 

 

She got a two-wire on the next attempt, and the next, followed by a missed wire, a one-wire, and then it seemed that all she could do was miss the wire. At the third missed wire in a row, Shaffer decided that she had had enough for one day, and took them in himself for a landing and a full stop.

As they rode the elevator down into the hangar, Clare sat back in her seat, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. She felt exhausted, both mentally and physically, from flying the small aircraft in the circuit round the carrier. Her shoulders ached, and she moved her head around to ease the tension in her neck.

‘You’re trying too hard,’ Shaffer said as he finished the post-flight checks and shut down the engines.

‘Sir?’

‘You’re trying too hard. Relax.’ He smiled at her, but it wasn’t a friendly smile, she thought, not like Hartigan. You always felt that he was on your side, and that he remembered what it was like, doing some of these things for the first time. Shaffer was different. He was too, too—

‘Not bad for a first day, Lieutenant. I’m on flight ops again tomorrow, so I’ll assign you to one of the other pilots for some air experience in the morning, and we’ll continue your training tomorrow afternoon.’


uncaring
. She thanked him for the flight, and they sat there in silence while the tug moved them back into the hangar.

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

After they had parked and shut down the aircraft, Clare changed out of her flight suit and headed for a shower, and then for the galley for something to eat.

Coombes found her there later, staring blankly out of the window at the view outside, and he put his tray down opposite her again.

Clare looked at him as he sat down. He didn’t seem quite as tall as she remembered him from last night, and he had a slight cleft chin that she hadn’t noticed before. But those eyes in his vulpine face were still as she remembered; very pale blue, and she found herself having to tear her gaze away from their mesmerising quality.

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