I was tempted to tell Gradin I’d done all I could cope with today, and ask him to land the plane for me, but doing that would make this whole ordeal totally pointless. I’d messed up my last landing. I had to face up to that mistake, do it again, and get it right. I knew that if I didn’t land the plane by the time I left this evening, I’d never come back to try again.
What was the worst that could happen anyway? I might manage to scratch the plane some more, possibly even break a wing or smash it to pieces, but our impact suits would go solid to protect us during the crash. I’d be able to run off in tears again afterwards, just like I did yesterday, and Gradin wouldn’t try to make me come back a second time.
I finished my first circle, headed round a second time, and started my landing approach with my body aching with tension.
“You’re much too high,” said Gradin.
He was right. I dipped the nose of the plane to correct that, overdid it, corrected again, and blinked sweat out of my eyes as I stared at the landing area ahead. Getting closer, closer, closer. I cut the thrusters to stalling point, transferred to the hovers with a nasty judder, closed down thrusters entirely, then lowered the plane to the ground and double-checked thrusters were properly off before cutting hovers.
I sagged down in my seat, feeling giddy with relief, and there was a short silence before Gradin spoke.
“That was the jerkiest flight I’ve ever suffered in my life. Let’s go round again and please try to relax this time.”
I wanted to tell him to nuke off, but counted to ten instead, then gathered my tattered nerves together for the take off. After the second landing, Gradin sighed.
“Well, I suppose that was fractionally less painful. Let’s go round again and …”
He let the words trail off, because the lookup attached to his right forearm was making an urgent bleeping noise. He groaned, tapped it, looked down at the display, and groaned again. “As I was saying, let’s go to Athens.”
I was grazzed. “What?”
He ignored me and spoke on broadcast channel. “This is New York survey plane. The Dig Site Federation has sent out a general pilot alert. Athens has a major forest fire heading for them and is requesting air assistance. Can you warn New York Main I’ll need an emergency freight portal link to take my fire plane straight through to Athens?”
“This is Fringe Dig Site Command. Passing your message to New York Main. Does Athens need volunteers for ground fire fighting as well?”
“This is New York survey plane. Athens has already got a ground shift system organized with volunteer teams from the dig sites in Europe, so they just need more fire planes now.”
My shocked brain was remembering being in Athens last year, standing on a hillside and looking across at the Acropolis. The breathtaking beauty of the ruins perched on their high, rocky outcrop, the green of trees below dotted with the remains of other buildings. The vast cities like New York had already been hit by plenty of fires since they’d been abandoned. A forest fire could do little more damage to them, but the precious ancient ruins of Athens …
Gradin turned off his comms, opened the cockpit, jumped down to the ground, then turned to look back at me. “Are you helping with this or not?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” He unsealed the front of his hood, pulled it down, and frowned at me. “I could use a co-pilot to work the scoops for me, but if you aren’t interested …”
I opened my own hood, welcoming the chill of the breeze on my sweaty face, and savouring the fresh air. I’d no idea what he meant by the scoops, but Athens was in danger, and if I could do anything at all to save it … “I want to help.”
“Then you shift this plane out of the way for a minute, while I get the fire plane out.”
He strode off to the plane storage dome and opened its huge double doors. I was left sitting alone in a plane for the first time ever. Feeling ludicrously nervous, I turned on the hovers, and moved the survey plane at minimum speed towards the side of the landing area. The fire plane was coming out of the storage dome now. I turned my head to watch it go past me. It was white, like the survey plane, but with red stripes on the wings.
Gradin’s voice came over the private channel on my suit comms. “You can put the survey plane in the storage dome now, while I start running diagnostics and power checks on this one.”
I started the survey plane moving again, and gulped as I looked at the dome doorway ahead of me. I had to get the wide spreading wings of my plane through that.
“Plug the plane in while you’re at it,” added Gradin. “I try to keep all my planes fully recharged in case they’re urgently needed.”
I frowned in concentration as I inched the plane forward through the doorway. There should be plenty of clearance on either side, but it was hard to judge exactly where the fragile wingtips ended. Once inside the dome, I parked in a clear space over by the wall to avoid doing any clever manoeuvres.
I turned off the hovers with a sigh of relief, opened the cockpit, jumped down and took a proper look round. There were eight planes in here, and another outside. New York Fringe Dig Site only had two planes, so the rest must belong to Gradin. Professional pilots had their own planes assigned to them, and it made sense for Gradin to bring his across from New York Main if he was basing himself at Fringe for the summer. I just hadn’t expected him to have so many of them.
I went over to the nearest recharge point, and dragged out a cable to plug in the plane. I stuck my head in the cockpit for a moment, checked the power cell light was flashing amber for a recharge, and then remembered something. I spoke on the private channel to Gradin.
“It’s five hours later in Europe than here.”
“I know,” he said. “The night flying will be good experience for you.”
“I meant that if I go to Athens, I won’t be back at Next Step in time for curfew roll call.”
“Don’t tell me they still have the same oppressive rules they had back when I was a kid. Chaos, I haven’t thought about curfew roll call in years.” He laughed. “I missed it once, got chased down by a Hospital Earth Truant Officer, and forced to wear a tracker bracelet for months. You’d better sprint and tell people in reception you’re going to Athens. They’ll sort things out with your Next Step.”
You can’t sprint at top speed in a heavy impact suit without totally exhausting yourself, but I headed to reception at a sedate jogging run. The woman behind the desk gave me an anxious look.
“I’m going to Athens with Gradin.” I paused to gasp in a mouthful of air. “Please warn my Next Step I won’t be back for curfew.”
“You’re going to Athens?” Her face changed from anxious to startled. “Yes, I just heard about the forest fire. I’ll explain what’s happening to your Next Step. I can get the contact details from your record.”
I belatedly realized what my arrival must have looked like. Running in still wearing an impact suit, with my hair rioting and my face sweaty, she must have thought this was a repeat of yesterday’s scene. I didn’t have time to worry about that now, I couldn’t keep Gradin waiting, so I just turned and ran back out of the dome.
As I jogged back across the landing area, I studied the fire plane again. There was something strange about the shape of the cockpit.
“Hurry up,” said Gradin. “Diagnostics have completed and we’ve got clearance to launch.”
I dived into my seat. There was barely time for me to pull up my suit hood and seal it before the plane was lifting on hovers. Gradin hit the thrusters and we soared upwards before turning sharply. I could see the ominous black towers of New York Main in the distance now, but my thoughts were on what was happening in Europe.
Over the centuries, woods had expanded across its abandoned countryside, merging to recreate ancient forests. There were fires every summer, started by lightning, old house power storage units exploding, or something as trivial as sunlight shining through broken glass. In a dry spell, they raced through tangled shrubs and t
rees until they were stopped by heavy rain or burnt themselves out.
If a forest fire threatened a settlement, people would grab their most important belongings, portal out, and hope the automated water sprays would protect the buildings so there was something to come back to later. Home E161/8822 had had a fire alert the year I was 9. I remembered how Issette was in tears, clinging to her silly fluffy toy, Whoopiz the Zen, as the staff herded us through the portal to an evacuation centre that was in total chaos. We spent two days there, crammed in with the kids from the other two Homes in the same settlement, as well as a whole mob of distressed babies and toddlers from the nearby Nursery unit.
We were lucky that time, because the wind changed direction and took the fire away to burn itself out against a lake. The settlement, Home E161/8822, and Issette’s precious fluffy toy collection survived undamaged, but Athens could …
“We’re just hopping over to the freight link at New York Main.” Gradin’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
I peered down at the ground, watching the ruins gradually grow taller, and then saw an open area ahead with the distinctive grey curves of flexiplas domes beside it. There was a sharp crackling sound on the comms system.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Suit comms did an auto channel reset as we crossed the boundary between Fringe and Main.” Gradin set his comms to speak on broadcast channel. “This is New York fire plane entering New York Main air space. Commencing landing approach to New York Freight Link.”
“This is New York Main Dig Site Command. Welcome New York fire plane. We’ve cleared you a landing area and are ready to dial you an emergency freight portal link to Athens,” said a male voice.
The plane steepened its descent and we landed on a large flat area. Over to our right side, several transport sleds were parked in a group next to a small mountain of flexiplas crates, and ahead of us were two freight portals. I frowned at the sight of them. Freight portals looked huge compared to a normal passenger portal, and a transport sled could easily drive through them, but our plane wings were much too wide.
“How do we get the plane through the portal?”
Gradin laughed. “We fold the wings. The private pilot theory test only covers the very basics, so you won’t know about folding wings, or fire plane scoops, or a host of other things.”
A few weeks ago, I’d believed I knew everything there was about being a pilot. It was a shock to discover the amount I had to learn for my private pilot theory test, but again I thought that was everything. Now I realized I’d been a complete nardle both times. I still knew next to nothing about all the things a professional pilot like Gradin did, or how they did them.
“Pay close attention,” he said. “You may need to do this yourself one day, and it’s not the sort of thing you want to get wrong. First, you set the aircraft control systems to show advanced options, and select wing unlocking. The control systems will ask you for authorization, so you enter your pilot code. After that …”
He opened the cockpit, and climbed out. I tore my eyes away from the control displays, which were all flashing an alarming red, and hurried to jump down after him. The fabric of my impact suit triggered as I landed on the concraz, freezing my legs in position with my knees bent. I managed to keep my balance for a couple of seconds before toppling over sideways. I cringed, expecting Gradin to laugh at me, but instead he just sighed.
“I told you to pay attention. You should have noticed I used the handhold on the side of the plane to help me climb down instead of jumping. The cockpit of a fire plane is higher off the ground than a survey plane because of the scoops. They’re retracted at the moment, locked to the base of the plane.”
He pointed at the plane. I saw that what I’d thought was just a deeper, bulkier cockpit than usual, actually had a line where it could separate into two.
“You always, and I mean always, keep scoops retracted and locked except in midair,” he said.
He turned away, dropped to sit on the ground next to the wing of the plane, and reached up. The fabric of my impact suit had relaxed now, so I could pick myself up, kneel next to Gradin, and watch as he slid open a hatch under the wing.
“You turn the lever from green to red to unlock the wing. Go round and do the other side for me.”
I scrambled to my feet, ran round to the other wing, found the hatch, and tried to turn the lever inside. After a second spent struggling to move it, I worked out that you had to pull the lever out a fraction to turn it. I looked round for Gradin, saw he was back in the plane, and climbed in to join him. The control displays were now flashing a faintly less worrying amber.
“The aircraft control systems report the wings are unlocked,” said Gradin, “and are offering the option to fold wings. I confirm and …”
I glanced out of the window and saw the wings slowly folding back to the angle of a Military dart spaceship. “Zan!”
“You obviously never try flying with the wings folded, but you don’t need wings to move on hovers.” Gradin lined the plane up in front of a freight portal and spoke on broadcast channel. “This is New York fire plane. Ready to portal.”
“This is Dig Site Command. Athens has a lot of incoming freight traffic at the moment. We’ll activate your portal as soon as one of their current portal windows closes.”
Gradin whistled tunelessly for fifteen seconds before the freight portal flared to life. The plane moved forward and the bright sunshine of America vanished. We were in the dusk of Europe now, looking at the dark bulk of the Acropolis set against a skyline that glowed orange and red, not with the sunset but with flames.
Chapter Fourteen
I stared numbly at that glowing sky, while my suit comms made the crackling noise that meant they were adjusting to new dig site channels. I heard a woman urgently talking on the new broadcast channel.
“This is Asgard 1. We’re losing control here. Have to pull back soon.”
That had to be the voice of someone fighting the fire, and it sounded like they were in trouble. I caught my breath, imagining what conditions must be like close to that giant fire. Even wearing an impact suit, the heat would be …
“This is Ground Command,” said a reassuringly calm, male voice. “Hold your ground, Asgard 1. We’ve got a fire plane on approach run to dump water for you.”
Another male voice spoke, pausing to gasp for breath between staccato sentences. “This is Cassandra 2. Can’t find Earth 8. Nothing but smoke and burning trees here.”
I added blinding clouds of smoke to my mental image, and pictured a team of fire fighters lost among blazing trees.
“This is Ground Command. Cassandra 2, your suit location signals show you’re nearly with them. Keep moving straight ahead.”
I became aware of a voice that wasn’t coming from my comms. I turned my head and saw an impact suit clad figure had run up to Gradin’s side of the plane and was urgently yelling and pointing.
“We’re keeping a launch area clear over to the right. Athens Air Control is running on channel 1.”
Gradin nodded and moved the plane on past transport sleds and groups of people, turning to the right to reach an open area of grass, before stopping and cutting hovers.
“Jarra, set your suit comms to override broadcast channel with channel 1. We don’t want to hear all the babble from Ground Command. They’ll be feeding information to Air Control about who needs help, and Air Control will tell us what to do.”
It took me a moment to work out how to override broadcast channel. By then, Gradin was already speaking on channel 1.
“This is New York fire plane reporting arrival. We have pilot and trainee co-pilot under instruction.”
“This is Air Control. Welcome New York. Circuit is running clockwise, repeat clockwise, picking up water from the sea off Piraeus. You’ll be the tenth plane joining circuit. Confirm please.”
“This is New York. Confirming circuit is running clockwise and joining as plane ten.”
Ten planes!
I’d only ever seen one plane in the sky at a time. I’d thought all the stuff in the theory test about maintaining a safe air distance from other aircraft was pointless.
Gradin spoke to me on the private circuit. “Opening the wings now. You can get out and lock them for me.”
I watched the wings move back to their normal position, then climbed down and carefully adjusted the levers on both sides. When I climbed back in, the control displays were flashing green.
“The system confirms both wings out and locked,” said Gradin. “I acknowledge that, the controls stop flashing, and we’re back to normal. Now look at the main display.”
I dutifully looked, and saw a lot of red dots moving clockwise in a distorted circle. A white dot near the centre of the circle was stationary.
“We’re the white dot, and the red dots are the other planes?”
“Correct,” said Gradin. “You can see a gap opening up between two of the red dots. That’s where we’ll be joining circuit. Time for us to turn our lights on and launch.”
The plane lifted on hovers, lights started flashing on both wing tips, and we headed up into the evening sky that seemed pitch black in contrast to the bright orange light below. I saw the white line of our course appear on the main display, directing us to the position marked by a flashing white dot in the circle of red ones. Gradin banked right to follow it, until the steady white dot that was where we were merged with the flashing white dot of where we should be.
“We’re now in circuit,” said Gradin. “If we keep in our designated position, we don’t need to worry about colliding with anyone else.”
He paused before speaking again in a pointed voice. “I hope you’re paying attention to all this, because the Dig Site Federation doesn’t encourage us to teach people to fly out of pure generosity. They’re always short of professional pilots, so they sometimes call on the amateur pilots for help in emergencies. Next year, you could be doing something like this solo.”
I imagined myself alone in this plane, flying through the blackness and the smoke with leaping flames below, and gulped. Gradin must have heard me, because he laughed.