Flygirl

by R. D. Kardon

  “Guess you’re just too short for this airplane,” Deter barked. One of the mechanics standing nearby started to laugh. Tris felt herself turning red and looked away for a few seconds, hiding her embarrassment. She was afraid any comeback would sound bitter or shrill. A couple of deep breaths would have to get her past this.

  Her exterior inspection complete, Tris climbed into the cockpit to run the interior checks. Deter watched every move she made. “Any comments? Critique?” she asked when she finished, but he just walked back to the pilot area.

  She raised her open palms to the sky and shook her head. No news must be good news. If she’d screwed up, Deter would surely have said so.

  With nothing else to do, Tris checked her desk one more time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Lightly, she touched the Air Force wings Diana had given her. For luck.

  Deter was in Zorn’s office with the door closed. They came out together, called to Tris, and headed toward the conference room where Zorn would give the briefing. Ross joined them.

  “Is it ok with you if he comes along on the flight?” Zorn nodded toward Ross. Although he framed it as a question, it was clear that the only answer was “yes.” Great. Another member of the review board. She hoped Ross would at least be a forgiving judge.

  Zorn cleared his throat. “Ok, Tris, so far you’ve been the non-flying pilot on the Astral learning the plane. Today we’re gonna see if we can release you to fly it on company trips,” he said against the drumbeat of heavy rain. “We’re going out to do some basic maneuvers first to give you the feel of the jet. Then we’ll head over to Maxwell and do some approaches. You’ll do a series of takeoffs and landings there, and we’ll make an approach back in here. Sound good?”

  “And I’ll be in the back reading the paper,” Ross joked.

  Tris welcomed the chance to laugh. “Sounds good, Brian.” Deter and Zorn would grade her, but surely Ross would have an opinion. It helped her to believe there might be someone on the Astral, someone at Tetrix cheering for her, even if he sat in the back with USA Today.

  Left completely unsaid were the consequences if she didn’t do well, didn’t meet their standards. She pushed those thoughts aside.

  Twenty-One

  IT WAS ALMOST “go” time. There was a lull while Deter, Ross, and Zorn discussed something in the conference room. Tris boarded the Astral and used the time to review Maxwell’s approach charts.

  Deter came out first. Tris expected him to ask her about the fuel order. He did, and this time she nailed it. All pre-flight items completed, Deter took a spot in the left seat, Tris in the right. Zorn strapped himself into the jump seat just behind the two pilots. She couldn’t see Ross from the pilot seat, but knew that he was in the cabin.

  With all eyes on her, she turned to Deter. “Ready?”

  “Let’s go.”

  Deter pushed the power forward to get the Astral moving toward the runway in the steady rain as he and Tris did each checklist call and response. At the runway’s edge, Deter set the brake and turned to Tris.

  “It’s your leg, your brief.”

  “Roger that. All right, this is a standard takeoff.” Tris briskly reviewed takeoff specifics and emergency procedures. Zorn nodded along from the jump seat. “Any questions?”

  Zorn and Deter both shook their heads.

  “Let’s go,” Deter hissed.

  “Exeter Tower, Astral Nine Tango X-ray, short of runway Two-Four-Left ready for takeoff.”

  “Astral Nine Tango X-ray, good morning. Turn right to a heading of Two-Eight-Zero, runway Two-Four-Left, cleared for takeoff.” After a short pause, ATC called them back. “Astral Nine Tango X-ray, no delay, Boeing 737 on short final.”

  “We’re rolling,” Deter answered, nodded at Tris and pushed the power levers forward. Showtime.

  “Airspeed alive,” Deter called, followed by “Eighty knots, cross-check.”

  “I’ve got control,” Tris said and took charge of the Astral. As they rumbled down the runway, her feet tapped the rudder pedals and kept the Astral moving straight ahead. As Exeter Airport rolled by outside the cockpit windows, Tris was calm and sure. I’ve got this.

  “V1,” called Deter. No matter what, they were flying.

  “Rotate. V2,” Deter called.

  Tris firmly pulled the yoke toward her chest. The nose wheel of the Astral rolled off the runway in small increments as the left and right main followed. Then the aircraft hesitated for an infinitesimal beat. In that tiny, barely measurable unit of time, it seemed to hang in the air, just before it rushed away from the ground, nose pointed toward the sky, and climbed. That instant—the fraction of a second where the plane hung suspended just inches above the ground—was her favorite moment in all of flight.

  After that, things happened fast.

  “Positive rate,” Deter announced.

  “Gear up,” she ordered.

  “One thousand to go,” Deter called as they quickly passed through three thousand feet. Tris pushed the yoke forward and the aircraft leveled off. The engine noise quieted a bit when she gently slid back the power levers to keep the Astral at the two hundred knot maximum speed required in the Exeter terminal area.

  Working the radios, Deter contacted departure control.

  “Astral Nine Tango X-ray, radar contact. Climb and maintain one-three-thirteen-thousand and contact center on one-three-three-point-five.”

  “Out of four thousand for one-three-thousand, one-three-three-point-five. Astral Nine TX.”

  The flight moved forward briskly, purposefully and in sync. Tris carefully stayed a few steps ahead of the airplane, ready for whatever came next. They were on their way to Maxwell, where her flying skills would be tested and assessed. The sun shone in the distance, as she piloted the Astral away from the storm.

  Twenty-Two

  THEY’D BEEN FLYING for over an hour as Tris configured the Astral for the final landing into Maxwell. She was fifteen knots fast, and the airplane wasn’t slowing quickly enough. The cabin temperature was set to 68 degrees, yet sweat trickled down her back.

  She couldn’t come in fast, or the Astral wouldn’t stop before the end of the runway, so she pulled a lever that raised metal airbrake panels bolted to the top of the wing. They popped straight up. The jet rumbled as it slowed.

  Deter sprang. “What are you doing?” He covered Tris’s hand with his and pushed the panels down. “Would you like the gear down and the before landing checklist? That would slow you down juuuuuust fine.” His sarcasm bit like a mad dog.

  Zorn glanced quickly at Deter but said nothing.

  “Yes. Yes. Gear down before landing checklist,” Tris said.

  Ross popped up from his chair and stood behind Zorn. Tris flew a terrible approach and landed so hard the Astral bounced on its struts. Deter rolled his eyes in the seat next to her.

  There was no denying it: Deter had rattled her. But she shook it off—she had to regain her poise to fly back to Exeter.

  “Maxwell Tower, Astral Nine Tango X-ray, taxi back for departure to Exeter, and we’d like our clearance.” Tris attended to tasks that pushed her back in the moment.

  Takeoff was routine. As they reached cruise altitude, Zorn read something in the jump seat. She hadn’t spoken to Ross the entire flight, so she figured he must be back in the cabin. The air cycle machine whirred predictably, and conversations between ATC and other aircraft on the frequency were the only other background noise.

  “Exeter Approach, Astral Nine Tango X-ray, leveling four thousand. Tango,” Deter announced when they were about thirty-five miles from the field.

  “Astral Nine Tango X-ray, Exeter Approach. Welcome back. Expect the visual approach runway Two-Four-Left. Fly heading one-three-zero, report the field in sight.”

  The wind at the field blew from the northwest at nineteen knots. Tris would have a heavy right crosswind for landing. Keep the airplane straight, right wing down, use left rudder.

  At fifteen miles out, Tris and Deter both had Exe
ter in sight. With visual contact, they flew straight toward the field.

  Tris turned parallel to the runway and slowed the Astral.

  “Gear down, before landing checklist,” she called to Deter.

  “Traffic. Traffic.”

  The Astral’s collision avoidance system sensed another aircraft right in front of them. It first showed up as an amber blip on the screen. Tris, Deter, and Zorn looked outside the window but couldn’t see the bogey.

  “Traffic. Traffic.” The urgency of the synthesized voice increased. The blip changed from amber to red.

  Deter snapped his head from side to side. “I can’t see it,” Zorn cried out.

  Tris keyed the mike. “Exeter Tower, Astral Nine TX needs an immediate right three-sixty. We do not have traffic in sight.” She started a right turn before ATC had the chance to answer. Deter’s mouth opened into a perfect ‘O.’

  “Astral Nine TX approved. Turn right to a heading of three-zero-zero, vectors back to the downwind. Sorry about that. We have some student traffic in the area.”

  After a moment, Deter confirmed the instructions. Zorn looked down, visibly relieved. Tris rolled the aircraft back on course for the airport. Deter lowered the gear and watched the three green lights illuminate. All the wheels were down and locked.

  Wind buffeted the plane all the way down on final approach. Tris bumped the power levers forward and flew a little faster to counteract the crosswind. Deter’s feet shadowed hers on the rudders as she kept the Astral moving straight ahead in the gusty conditions. “Get off,” she wanted to shout. My airplane.

  Tris put the Astral firmly and safely on the runway centerline. She ran required checklists as Deter taxied the airplane to the Tetrix ramp. Rain still poured over the Astral. The windshield wipers mocked her, their steady thwap-thwap-thwap repeating, “You blew it, you blew it, you blew it.”

  Judgment was only minutes away.

  Deter and Zorn sprinted off the Astral without saying a word once they were parked at the gate. Ross leaned into the cockpit on his way out and whispered, “Nice job.” Tris relished a few moments alone after the nerve-wracking approach into Exeter.

  When she finally entered the pilot area, she expected to see Zorn and Deter waiting for her, but only Ross was there.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey. You did a nice job. Especially with that traffic. I think the guys were embarrassed that they didn’t see it.” He looked around to make sure he wasn’t overheard.

  She smiled. “Yeah. Glad we got out of there.”

  Ross hesitated. “Hey, you know, I didn’t get to thank you for that night at O’Slattery’s. You helped me out when I needed it.” His smile was warm, sincere.

  “No problem.”

  “And, you know, I really do feel bad about…well, no one has to know about, you know…”

  “Thanks. Oh no. Nobody’s business.”

  She hadn’t told anyone besides Danny but couldn’t shake the memory of that night. Tris could cope with Ross’s lewd behavior in the car. It would be easy to keep her physical distance in the future. But she could never accept the likely consequence if she hadn’t taken his keys.

  Ross continued to smile at her, his eyes soft and friendly. Yet she saw him as he’d been that night, and wrapped her arms around herself at just the thought of Ross drunk at the wheel. She couldn’t shake the chill, even as warm forced air pumped out of metal floor vents just feet from where she stood.

  Zorn walked into the pilot area, followed by Deter.

  “Well, well,” Zorn said, looking them both up and down. “We’re not interrupting anything are we?” His suggestive tone made Tris purse her lips like she’d just sucked on a lemon.

  “Nope,” said Ross, red-faced.

  Tris looked at Deter, his face a mask, and then at Zorn.

  “Tris, you’re released to fly trips in the Astral as second-in-command, starting right away. I’ve told Ann-Marie to put you on the schedule.”

  She’d done it. Beyond relieved, she kept her elation in check, especially in front of those guys. It was just another flight to them, right?

  “Wow. Thank you!” Tris stifled the impulse to raise both arms in celebration. But her cheeks lifted high as she smiled.

  “And, hey, could you try and put the plane down a little softer next time?” Zorn chuckled.

  “You bet,” she said, as she headed up to Ann-Marie’s desk to check out the schedule. Her initials appeared in the crew box for a trip on Monday and several other dates after that. She took a deep breath, moved her shoulders back, and raised her head high.

  “I’m halfway there,” she whispered so low that even Ann-Marie couldn’t hear.

  Twenty-Three

  ROSS STAYED BEHIND after Tris and Deter left. With the pilot area all to himself, he mellowed to the reassuring sounds of a typical day at the airport. Office chairs rolling on plastic mats, doors opening and closing, the phone ringing at the front desk. He took a few minutes to appreciate his surroundings, temporarily free of demands.

  He didn’t want to go home. Devon and James were back from Montana, and the Ross family resumed its familiar routine—including a liberal dose of daily nagging from Devon on topics he’d stopped trying to predict. Ross figured he’d hang out at the airport for a while. He could catch up with Zorn, get the scoop on the training flight they just did.

  He marched up to reception and saw Ann-Marie working on the schedule. He peeked over her shoulder as she erased his initials on some of Deter’s Astral trips and penciled in Tris. They had all pulled extra duty on the Astral and Gulfstream since RJ was canned. Finally, a well deserved break.

  Ross glanced at the schedule and saw the usual two- and three-day trips on the Gulfstream with him as crew. He also had a trip scheduled on the Astral with Tris in a week. She was flying with Charlie Basson in a few days, then him. Tris was mostly scheduled with Deter through the end of the year.

  Ross peered over at Zorn’s office. Zorn beckoned him in.

  “Hey,” Ross said as Zorn dug into a bag of pretzels on his desk. Ross noticed the top of Zorn’s belt hinge forward; he’d really put on weight. Unconsciously, Ross patted his own flat stomach.

  “Hey. Well, she flew it.”

  Ross gave Zorn a thumbs up. “Seemed fine to me. What did it look like from upfront?”

  “Yeah, she did ok. She was a little behind. Deter yelled at her a bunch of times. Mostly for nothing, that ass. Although she pulled the air brakes on the downwind. Jesus. I mean, speed was hot, but she could have just put the gear down. Deter didn’t even ask her if she wanted the boards retracted. He just slammed them back in.” Zorn paused. “Hell, she was just getting the feel of the thing. Fucking Deter almost came out of his seat. But then she showed great situational awareness at Exeter. We had that traffic alert and none of us saw it. She got the hell outta there.” He chewed on a pretzel and washed it down with his Diet Coke.

  Ross edged closer to Zorn’s desk from his seat in the metal office chair. “Oh yeah. Deter really lit into her when we were in Asheville about how she got the job.”

  “Yeah, he hasn’t stopped bitching since she showed up. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to talk about in the cockpit on trips. Baking cookies and shopping?’” Zorn grinned. “It would serve him right.”

  “Once he gets something in his head, he doesn’t like to let it go. I see they’ll be flying together a lot. You sure that’s a good idea?”

  Zorn squinted and cocked his head to the side. “What difference does it make to you?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Just a vibe I’m picking up. You two looked really, uh, friendly when I walked in on you earlier.”

  Walked in on us? “Are you kidding? What would I want with that girl?”

  Zorn chuckled and changed the subject. “I want her with Deter as much as possible. It’s his fucking job to train her. He took the money I gave him to be primary on the Astral. Lazy bastard. The more she flies with
him, the less any of us have to deal with him.”

  Ross understood. And although he felt bad for Tris, he was grateful to get a break from Deter, even if they didn’t crew up together very often. Ross mostly flew the Gulfstream these days.

  “She’s pretty anxious to be PIC, you know.”

  Zorn nodded while he ripped open a bag of cookies. He munched on one, then said, “Yeah, she mentioned that during the interview, too. One thing at a time. She’s gotta get the hang of the airplane. Then we’ll gradually move her up. She’ll need about five hundred hours in the Astral before upgrade, dontcha think?”

  Ross nodded and wondered if Tris knew about this plan. From his vantage point in the back, Ross thought the flight went pretty well. Her landings were rough, but everything else was right on. With all his experience flying into Exeter and Maxwell, he could visualize exactly where in relation to the airport she configured the airplane for landing, tell if she made wrong turns, or managed power poorly. Everything happened at the right time.

  “Did Deter want to sign her off to fly the line?” Zorn grimaced at the suggestion. Deter had to agree, but it was Zorn who signed off company pilots.

  “I signed her off.” Pure arrogance. Never failed.

  “She’s fine, safe. Trainable. Deter had no real complaints. Other than the fact she’s inexperienced, female, and he wouldn’t have to do any training if we’d just hired Dicky or some other guy he knew. Blah blah blah. Typical bullshit from him. He just wants to come in, fly, and go home.”

  “Hey, what about that trip you and I have in a couple days. Cleveland? Man, what a drag.” He fiddled with some papers on his desk.

  Ross hated Cleveland trips. Exeter was in the central time zone, and if the Tetrix executives had to make a 9:00 a.m. meeting in Cleveland, takeoff was usually around 6:30 a.m. Ross didn’t like getting up early; it cut into his evening recreation.

  “Oh, we’ll figure something out.” Ross grinned. It was an overnight. Cleveland was probably the most boring location they flew to regularly, but they could always find a comfortable bar. Then it wouldn’t much matter what city they were in.