read me?”
“Yeah, my wings are extending now. Your work?”
“I’ve set up a slave system on some of your controls. Autopilot’s programming for the Ragnarok Embassy right now; with a little luck we should come down just outside. One quick dash for the airlock and we’ll be fine. Give them a call and arrange for a welcoming party once we get into the air.”
“Will do.”
She rested her hands on the controls, left hand on the throttle, right hand on the joystick, the computer managing the rest of the systems. Despite everything that was happening, she was enjoying this – the nearest she’d been to real flying for years.
“You’ve done this a lot, have you, Maggie?” Harriet asked.
“Atmospheric flying?” she replied. “Several hundred hours.”
“That’s good.”
As the plane built up speed, the nose beginning to pull up, she added, “In simulation. Hang on!”
Biting the thin atmosphere, the engine powering up to full, the plane slowly began to lift off the ground, plenty of runway still remaining. With a loud, grinding noise, the landing gear retracted into the main body of the fighter, and the wings swept into position for maximum lift, the
internal systems pulling the structure tighter, making micro-adjustments to make the fighter as aerodynamic as possible.
“All good, we have cleared the runway, height a hundred feet.” She reached up for a switch, and said, “Going for level flight.”
“Can’t we go higher?”
Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “Where’s the fun in that! These craft were designed to go low, and besides, I want as much attention as possible.” She gestured up ahead, and said, “I’m heading for the Tharsis Strip. There’s enough traffic there that no-one’s going to shoot us down, far too many questions to answer. It’s about a hundred miles, maybe a little over an hour if we’re lucky.”
“Skyborne,” Talbot’s voice echoed over the speaker. “Only just had enough runway.”
“Don’t worry, as long as you made it, that’s good enough. Maintain your altitude and follow me.”
“Look down there,” Harriet said, pointing over her left side. Orlova looked down and saw one of the truck convoys in the desert, the vehicles stopped and spacesuited figures climbing out.
“That’s a bit of bad luck. I’d hoped to dodge them, at least for a while. Never mind.”
“What can they do?”
“I don’t know what the current defense preparedness level is, but it’ll take time to get the planetary defenses set up for this. They’re designed to point out, not in.”
With a sigh, Melissa said, “Then we shouldn’t have any real problems.”
Looking down at a monitor, Orlova replied, “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”
“Problem?”
“I’m getting readings of something lifting from the base. They must have managed to get past the security overrides on the other fighters.” Shaking her head, she replied, “Which means that they must have had some pilots with them. Damn it, I should have known this would happen.”
“We’ve got a head start, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but there are two of us in this fighter, and the rest are built for one. These things are light enough that even that little weight makes a real difference to our performance.” She turned to look behind her, spotting a trio of faint dots rising to the sky. “Thank God the load-out on these things was never completed.”
“It wasn’t?”
“They never got funding for the air-to-air missiles.”
“Then what are they armed with?”
“Well, there are laser targeters to simulate all sorts of damage profiles for exercises and flight tests, but the brass insisted that something get loaded on them…”
“So what? Railguns, plasma cannons?”
Turning back to face her passenger, Orlova said, “Machine guns. The specs for which were dug out of an old history text. Thrown
“Yeah, my wings are extending now. Your work?”
“I’ve set up a slave system on some of your controls. Autopilot’s programming for the Ragnarok Embassy right now; with a little luck we should come down just outside. One quick dash for the airlock and we’ll be fine. Give them a call and arrange for a welcoming party once we get into the air.”
“Will do.”
She rested her hands on the controls, left hand on the throttle, right hand on the joystick, the computer managing the rest of the systems. Despite everything that was happening, she was enjoying this – the nearest she’d been to real flying for years.
“You’ve done this a lot, have you, Maggie?” Harriet asked.
“Atmospheric flying?” she replied. “Several hundred hours.”
“That’s good.”
As the plane built up speed, the nose beginning to pull up, she added, “In simulation. Hang on!”
Biting the thin atmosphere, the engine powering up to full, the plane slowly began to lift off the ground, plenty of runway still remaining. With a loud, grinding noise, the landing gear retracted into the main body of the fighter, and the wings swept into position for maximum lift, the
internal systems pulling the structure tighter, making micro-adjustments to make the fighter as aerodynamic as possible.
“All good, we have cleared the runway, height a hundred feet.” She reached up for a switch, and said, “Going for level flight.”
“Can’t we go higher?”
Shaking her head, Orlova replied, “Where’s the fun in that! These craft were designed to go low, and besides, I want as much attention as possible.” She gestured up ahead, and said, “I’m heading for the Tharsis Strip. There’s enough traffic there that no-one’s going to shoot us down, far too many questions to answer. It’s about a hundred miles, maybe a little over an hour if we’re lucky.”
“Skyborne,” Talbot’s voice echoed over the speaker. “Only just had enough runway.”
“Don’t worry, as long as you made it, that’s good enough. Maintain your altitude and follow me.”
“Look down there,” Harriet said, pointing over her left side. Orlova looked down and saw one of the truck convoys in the desert, the vehicles stopped and spacesuited figures climbing out.
“That’s a bit of bad luck. I’d hoped to dodge them, at least for a while. Never mind.”
“What can they do?”
“I don’t know what the current defense preparedness level is, but it’ll take time to get the planetary defenses set up for this. They’re designed to point out, not in.”
With a sigh, Melissa said, “Then we shouldn’t have any real problems.”
Looking down at a monitor, Orlova replied, “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”
“Problem?”
“I’m getting readings of something lifting from the base. They must have managed to get past the security overrides on the other fighters.” Shaking her head, she replied, “Which means that they must have had some pilots with them. Damn it, I should have known this would happen.”
“We’ve got a head start, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but there are two of us in this fighter, and the rest are built for one. These things are light enough that even that little weight makes a real difference to our performance.” She turned to look behind her, spotting a trio of faint dots rising to the sky. “Thank God the load-out on these things was never completed.”
“It wasn’t?”
“They never got funding for the air-to-air missiles.”
“Then what are they armed with?”
“Well, there are laser targeters to simulate all sorts of damage profiles for exercises and flight tests, but the brass insisted that something get loaded on them…”
“So what? Railguns, plasma cannons?”
Turning back to face her passenger, Orlova said, “Machine guns. The specs for which were dug out of an old history text. Thrown
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