Tarizon, The Liberator, Tarizon Trilogy Vol 1

by William Manchee

  21

  Flight Training

  Flying had always fascinated Peter and he had actually been considering enlisting in the United States Air Force after he graduated from high school. Sy and Red felt the same way about flying, so the three of them could hardly wait for their flight training to begin. Flight training was mandatory for any officer in the TGA. The Tarizonian Global Forces were a highly mobile military force that depended on a myriad of aircraft to operate effectively. Officers were expected to be familiar with each of them and have the ability to fly them if need be.

  The first twenty days were spent in the classroom learning the physics, aerodynamics, engineering, meteorology, navigation, and becoming familiar with the many aircraft that the TGA utilized. Like at the language school Peter had attended earlier, they were given the drug parazene to stimulate their minds and help them quickly assimilate the vast amount of knowledge and technical skills needed to become a skilled pilot.

  On the last day of class Lt. Kechok Lemura began familiarizing them with the stalwart of the TGA, the hypersonic T-47 Fighter. "It's powered by a combination pulse detonation engine and kerosene fueled ramjet," Lt. Lemura advised. "This gives it both atmospheric and limited space flight capabilities. Its skin is made of lemdinium with sirilic leading edges which allows it to withstand the extremely high temperatures experienced in reentry from outer space. In addition, it has the ability to change its skin color using electrical charges. By emitting light through a series of slits, the aircraft can match the luminosity of the surrounding sky making it nearly invisible to the naked eye. It’s shape and absorption qualities make it impossible to track on radar as well. Since it flies at mach-8 it will outpace its own sound waves and thus arrive at its target without warning."

  There was a buzz of excitement in the room. Red smiled at Peter. "I can't wait to get up in one of those birds."

  Peter nodded. "I know. It's going to be so cool."

  Lt. Lemura looked over at them and frowned. Candidates weren't supposed to be talking in class so Peter immediately shut up. Lt. Lemura took a deep breath and continued. “Of course, this isn’t the most sophisticated of our aircraft. In fact, its use was discontinued before the great eruptions, but it is so much cheaper, more reliable and quicker to build that the Central Authority brought it back to aid in the recovery effort.

  "Now you will all spend time in the simulators in the next few days to acquaint yourselves with this aircraft. Once you have mastered the simulators then you'll be given actual flight time. Any questions?" Seeing no hands raised, Lt. Lemura closed his training manual and said, "All right then, dismissed."

  That night after dinner Peter, Red, and Sy were advised they'd been assigned sentry duty at the east entrance to the base. This was bad news because it meant they'd only get only four kyloons sleep that night. It was also unusual for all three of them to be assigned sentry duty together. Normally, two sentries would be assigned to man a post and the odds against Sy, Red, and Peter being randomly assigned to the same post on the same night were astronomical. They figured it either meant someone wanted to meet with them, or they were being set up for an ambush.

  Later that night they went to the sentry post and relieved the two soldiers on duty. After they'd been there several loons, they saw headlights approaching. They readied their weapons as no one should have been out that late at night. As it got closer they saw it was a private vehicle, usually referred to as a PT, and not a military vehicle. It slowed down and stopped a few strides from them. They watched it warily as the door opened slowly and a man stepped out. Peter shone his light on the man. It was Sgt. Baig. They all let out a collective sigh of relief and relaxed their weapons.

  He walked over to them and said, "Sorry to drag you out tonight, but it's important that we talk. I'm pretty sure anything said in the barracks is monitored. That's why I assigned all of you to sentry duty tonight. As long as we stay outside, I don't think anyone will overhear us."

  "What's going on?" Peter asked.

  "There has been an assassination attempt on the life of Chancellor Bassett Als. He's still alive and getting the best medical attention available, but word is he isn't likely to make it."

  "Oh, Jesus," Peter said. "It's starting already."

  "Sandee protect us, “Sy said taking a deep breath.

  Red shook his head and asked, "So, how long before the war breaks out?"

  "Not long. A few phases at the most. The generals and politicians who haven't committed to one side or the other will have to make that choice soon. The commandant here will side with the Vice-chancellor. That is why I wanted to speak with you. It will soon be time for you to leave Argot. You will be in grave danger as long as you remain here."

  "What about you? You'll be in danger too," Peter said.

  "I haven't officially taken sides. No one here knows I stand with the Supreme Mandate. I'm safe for now and I'll be of more service to our cause here, where I can listen and observe the enemy."

  "So how will we escape?" Peter asked.

  "I've arranged for each of you to take a T-47 out for a training flight the day after tomorrow. Once you take off you'll not return. When air control realizes you're not coming back, they’ll try to override your manual control, but they’ll find out the onboard computers have locked them out."

  “Won’t they go looking for who reprogrammed the onboard computers?”

  “Absolutely, but I’ll make sure there is no trail leading to me. Eventually, they may figure it out, but I plan to be far away from Pogo when that happens.”

  "Where will we go?" Red asked.

  "There are a string of over 10,000 islands in the Southern Sea called the Beet Islands. On one of those islands there is a secret base where soldiers loyal to the Supreme Mandate are gathering and making preparations for war. You will go there."

  "We'll have to make a stop along the way," Peter said.

  Sgt. Baig frowned. "A stop?"

  "Yes, we need to rescue Tam. He's part of our team."

  "No. I am sorry, I know he is your friend, but it will be too dangerous. You must fly immediately to the base."

  Peter shook his head, "Tam is important to the cause. He heard the call of Threebeard and immediately joined the TGA. He's got extraordinary abilities and I promised him we'd come get him."

  “Pegaport is a high security training base. There is no way you could break him out by yourselves,” Sgt. Baig said irritably.

  “I promised him we’d come get him,” Peter said sternly.

  Sgt. Baig looked at Peter and sighed. "Well, I guess you better keep your promise. I'll try to find out exactly where he's been assigned and see if there is anyone at Pegaport we can trust to help you."

  "Thank you, Sergeant. You'll be glad we did this."

  "Just be sure you make it to the base. If the Liberator is killed before the war begins, all might be lost.”

  "Do you think we'll be ready to fly the fighters in two days?" Sy asked skeptically. "We haven't actually flown one yet."

  "You've all done excellent in simulation. Actual flying is not much different. The computers do most of the work anyway."

  Sgt. Baig was right. The onboard computers on the T-47 were capable of full flight control. They did need a little instruction, however, and close monitoring in case there were flaws in the programming or data corruption. A good pilot was always ready to assume control if things didn't seem right.

  "What about our gear? How will we get it on the fighters?" Peter asked.

  "You won't. You'll have to go without it. When you take off, it can't look like anything other than a routine training flight. Each fighter has a small storage hold and there will be a few day's ration of food and water, first aid supplies, firearms, and ammunition stored there."

  They talked awhile longer and then Sgt. Baig left. A few kyloons later two sentries arrived and relieved them. It was just two kyloons before dawn when they finally made it back to their bunks. Peter was exhausted and immediately fell
fast asleep. When he was overtired he had a propensity to dream and this night was no exception. He first found himself in Luci's bed. The dream was so real he could feel the heat from her body and her breath on his cheek as he gazed into her sleeping eyes. He stroked her back and felt aroused by the touch of her soft skin. Then abruptly her image faded and he was in the thunderstorm near Possum Kingdom Lake. His car was shaking violently, so violently he bailed out of it fearful it might explode or be hurled across the landscape. He ran as fast as he could from the menacing ship hovering above, but soon felt his body being swept skyward toward it, but instead of going aboard, he found himself floating above a crowd of people in dark clothing in a graveyard.

  He squinted to ascertain who he was watching. A chill came over me him as he realized he was watching his own funeral. His mother and father were standing with grim faces over his casket. A priest was talking to the crowd of solemn mourners. He saw his sister Marcia. She was crying and Mark and Reggie were trying to comfort her. Peter tried to yell, I'm alive! Don't cry Marcia. I'm alive! Mom! Dad! I'm— A hand suddenly shook him.

  "Wake up! Leek. Wake up," Red said. "You're dreaming again."

  Peter opened his eyes and saw Red's smiling face. He took a deep breath and then tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. "Wow. What a dream."

  "It must have been," Red whispered as he looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "You need to get up. Sergeant Baig has arranged a special assignment away from the squad so we can have some time to plan Tam's rescue. He's got us maps and intelligence reports."

  Peter nodded and swung himself out of his bunk onto the floor. They got dressed, made their beds and headed for the nutrition center. After downing a quick breakfast they went to a classroom in the armory. There was a large map of Muhl on the wall and several files on the desk. The room was deserted. The three of them immediately got to work.

  When Peter looked at the map of the Isle of Muhl, he wondered if someone on speed had tried to draw the island. Except for its jagged and jittery form it was almost a perfect square, 257 kylods in length and 258.1 kylods in width. The western third of the island was separated north to south by the Drogal Mountains towering to a modest 3,254 feet at its highest peak. The Pegaport Training Center at Muhl was located on the southwest corner of the island, west of the Drogal Mountains. To the south lay the Southern Sea and to the northwest the Yulev River. The Yulev River looked to be very wide and formidable and there appeared to be but one bridge across the river into the facility. This would make it nearly impossible to approach the base except from the east. This would mean crossing the Drogal Mountains.

  On a table they found a map of the training facility itself. It lay in the shape of a triangle with a large airstrip and athletic field to the north. Along the river were hangers, fuel tanks, and the enlisted men's barracks. At the foot of the Drogal mountains was the armory, the officers’ quarters, and an endurance course. A road wound through the center of the base and then made a large circle, within which lay the base headquarters, the nutrition center, classrooms, a detention center, and parade ground. A wide beach separated the base from the Southern Sea. Eight guard towers were situated along the river and the beach, but there were no towers along the foothills of the Drogal Mountains. For some reason the military command at Pegaport wasn't worried about an assault from over the mountains. Peter wondered why.

  "We should come in by sea,"Red argued. "If we come at night they won't see us."

  "Of course they will," Peter said. "They must have night vision equipment. Plus, the beach is probably mined," he said.

  "We can swim across the river,"Sy said, "or take a small raft."

  "The river is wide and there are four guard towers. There's no way we could get across. Besides, where are we going to hide our fighters? If we land anywhere near the base they'll see us on radar and be all over us before we get on the ground."

  Red shook his head. "This is impossible. There's no way to get in without being detected."

  "There's one way," Peter said. "We'll fly in on the east side of the Drogal Mountains. The map indicates it's a desert. It will be uninhabited so no one will hear us land. Then we'll have to hike over the mountains and sneak in behind the armory. If we can get a message to Tam, we'll have him meet us there."

  "Hike over the mountains? By the looks of this map that could be nearly 100 kylods," Red protested, "and there doesn't appear to be any roads."

  "That's no big deal," I've hiked fifty kylods before at scout camp. It took three days, but we weren't in such great shape. I bet in the shape we're in now we could get there and back in three or four days."

  "But you hiked on a road, right?"

  "A trail, actually. It was in Colorado where the mountains are five times the size of the Drogals."

  "Five times? Wow. I'd like to see those sometime," Sy said.

  Peter shook his head. "Maybe you will. Who knows."

  "But did they have Drogals in Colorado?" a voice in back of the room asked.

  They all turned and saw Sgt. Baig standing there looking amused. He had a medical bag in one hand.

  "What's a Drogal?" Sy asked.

  "It's a bird twice the size of any human being. It's native to the Drogal Mountains, hence the name. Its natural prey are mountain rats, durk birds, and range deer but if it's hungry or feels threatened it will eat humans as well."

  Sy's mouth dropped open. "So, we don't want to go across the Drogal Mountains."

  Sgt. Baig shook his head, "No, it's a dangerous place and few men have ever made it across."

  Peter asked, "But can't we just shoot them if they come close. I've never heard of an animal that wouldn't run at the sound of gunfire."

  Sgt. Baig's eyes narrowed and he replied, "Well, don't you suppose someone on the base might hear you if you start firing at the Drogals? Not that a bullet would do them much damage. Ninety three percent of their body is fluff and they wouldn't even notice a bullet going through it. You'd have to get lucky and hit the seven percent that mattered."

  "What about a laser? We'll take our T7s," Peter suggested.

  Sgt. Baig shook his head and replied, "The laser would be a good choice except that it won't usually kill a Drogal. Whereas the T7 laser is lethal to a human being, it just makes a Drogal mad."

  "Wonderful," Peter moaned. "How are we going to sneak into the base? If we can't go across the mountain, there's no way in."

  "You’re right," Sgt. Baig said. "You should abandon your plans to save Tam. It’s impossible.”

  “No, there’s got to be a way,” Peter insisted.

  “Then, you'll have to go over the mountains," Sgt. Baig replied. “It’s the only way you’ll ever get onto the base undetected.”

  "So how do we get by the Drogals?" Sy asked.

  "Drogals don't feed at night. So you'll have to travel when it’s dark and hide during the daylight."

  "Where would we hide?" Sy asked.

  "The Drogal Mountains are rich with minerals. Over the cycles there have been attempts at mining some of them. Lemdinium in particular as it is very valuable. There is an old mining tram that runs through the mountains. It has been abandoned since the day of the volcanic eruptions, but if you follow it, it will lead you across the mountains. You can sleep in the mines during the daylight."

  "Where do the Drogals sleep?" Sy asked.

  Sgt. Baig smiled. "High up in the trees. Don't worry, they don't see well at night, so they won't be disturbing you then. Just don't leave the mines during the day. They have a keen sense of smell and if you venture out they'll be on you like flies on a carcass."

  "Okay," Peter said. "Assuming we make it to the base, can you get a message to Tam to be expecting us? It would be great if he was waiting there when we came off the mountain."

  "I can get a message to him that you're coming, but it wouldn't be wise to tell him where or when to meet you. If the message is intercepted, you'll be walking right into a trap."

  "So, how do we find
him once we get there?" Peter asked.

  "You'll want to come in at night to avoid detection. One of you should sneak into the barracks and get him. There won't be a guard there and everyone should be asleep. Tam will be expecting you, so it shouldn't be hard to bring him out. Bring your T7s in case there's trouble. If you have to kill someone, you don't want to make any noise doing it."

  "Right," Peter said, his stomach tightening as he contemplated the daunting task they were about to undertake. It would be so much easier to fly to the Beet Islands and forget about Tam, he thought. He'd be just one of many who'd died to preserve the Supreme Mandate. But they had pledged to watch out for and protect each other. If he didn't honor that pledge, what was the point of fighting at all? If all he thought about was expediency, he'd be just like Videl Lai.

  “Now take off your shirts, I need to perform a little surgery on you.”

  “What?” Red exclaimed.

  “You probably don’t want to be running around with a tracking implant once you’ve defected to the Loyalist cause.”

  “Oh, Lord no,” Peter said. “We’d lead them right to the Loyalist base.”

  Sgt. Baig raised his eyebrows, opened his medical bag, and then proceeded to, one by one, remove their implants. "Okay, we need to get back to the squad,” Sgt. Baig said when he was done. “Some of the candidates will be getting suspicious if we're gone any longer."

  They all nodded, took one last look at the maps, and then joined the other candidates in the squad who were assembled at the airfield to inspect their aircraft before the following day's training flights. As they looked at the twenty-one fighters lined up in front of their hanger, Peter felt overwhelmed. Tomorrow he would not only be flying for the first time, but embarking on a most perilous journey. Was he ready? He closed his eyes and prayed to God that he would be.