The Eons-Lost Orphan (The Space Orphan Book 1)

by Laer Carroll

  The First Sergeant said, "The Boss had a crazy idea. See what you think. Tomorrow you teach and test her as much of the material you can of an S&R pilot profile. And see if we can give her a Basic License."

  Basil munched and drank. The sergeant gave him plenty of time.

  Slowly Basil said, "We only do that in wartime or a similar emergency. But I suppose..."

  The Sergeant leaned forward, thinking he had his fish on the hook. Now he just had to reel it in.

  "He's always trying to get the Flight more money, more equipment, more personnel. We never have enough of any of them. Those pinch-penny assholes at Group, and the Congress critters, are always throwing money at the pointy-nose pansy-ass 'knights of the air.' They even give the trash-haulers over in transport more goodies. Never us blunt-nose almost-ground-pounders."

  "Hmm," was his only response.

  The Sergeant leaned back to finish the last of his 'dogs. Now he just had to let the idea he'd put forward simmer.

  <>

  Jane'd had a wonderful time today, she thought as she waited for her passengers outside their agreed-on rendezvous at quitting time. Especially when she actually got to fly a helo.

  The Shadow Hawk was a lovely beast, larger and faster and tougher than the dinky helos in which she'd gotten her first helo license. And best of all it was SMART. As she took it up and afterward her electrical field had become mature and her nervous system and the helicopter's had merged. Her hands and feet were hardly needed to control the machine, nor her eyes to see everything around her.

  "Hey, Cap! Wake up!" It was Kate, her "Exec." The woman had not dropped her role as Jane's unofficial executive officer. She opened the door to the van's front seat passenger station and slammed it closed to fasten her seat belt.

  Ricky was not far behind, nor Klaus, to arrive and to slam into the other passenger seats.

  No one, in fact, was late. Soon Jane had a full load and was on her way to their lodging at Laughlin Manor.

  <>

  Tuesday Jane was greeted by Basil with a question: had she read all the material assigned to her the previous day? Had she digested it? When she said Yes he said They'd see and shortly they were in the air in Charlie, then after lunch in Annie.

  He really wrung her out and Jane was happy to be wrung. She was in the air most of the day.

  At the end of the day she was sent to talk to the Captain and the First Sergeant.

  "At ease, Cadet. Sit, kick back. Can't you get it through your head that we don't do shit like saluting and Siring unless we've got brass or civs breathing down our necks?"

  "Sorry, Sir--I mean, Captain."

  "Better. First, you talked to Churchill?"

  The sergeant passed a document to the Captain. He held it out to Jane.

  "Cadet Kuznetsov, take this. You are now officially a Shadow Hawk pilot."

  "What? Sir?"

  Jane stared at the document. In elaborate form and stilted officialese it said that she, Jane NMI (No Middle Initial) Kuznetsov owned a Level Zero helicopter license (earned in the Sikorsky Shadow Hawk) permitting her to fly it and like vehicles in any and all theaters in service to the United States of America.

  She read it several times, then looked up. The two very different faces had an identical look of amusement.

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Don't say anything. Just remember S&R when you come out of the Academy a new Second Lieutenant.

  "Now get out of here and show up at the crack of 0800 tomorrow. We're going to put you to work running water-extraction exercises at Amistad Reservoir. Don't let your celebrations keep you from a full night's sleep and a clear head."

  Jane disobeyed the Captain's order to eschew bracing and Siring.

  <>

  Wednesday was tough, most of a day spent throwing dummy humans and even dogs and chickens into water and finding and hoisting them out of it to be fake-dried and fake-warmed and fake-medicated. Thursday was almost as tough though it was done in a Training building. It was an excruciating review of the exercises and paperwork detailing the lessons learned during the trials.

  <>

  Friday she was greeted by Basil when she arrived for her last day at the S&R Flight headquarters.

  "I know the Boss told you if you were a good little girl we'd give you a treat. Come with me."

  He led her out of the hangar with its three helicopters one building over. Inside he keyed in a code to a lock which shielded his hand from oversight. The door lock buzzed open and the two of them entered a dark hangar whose lights automatically came on.

  There under bright lights sat a large ungainly grey vehicle.

  "A--QUADCOPTER?"

  They walked around it, Basil doing his touchy-feely routine, and he talked.

  "Quads and like vehicles were among the earliest experimental flying machines. You think this vehicle is weird you should watch some the vids of early models."

  Jane had. Most of them looked as if they'd been conceived in an opium dream and maybe had been.

  "The core format has several severe drawbacks. Until the last few years the only designs which worked were small electric models. Quads like this one get around the power problem two ways.

  "One is better batteries. There are companies heading toward super-batteries with a hundred times the energy densities of regular batteries. Still heading but making real progress.

  "Another is hybrid engines, pioneered by the automotive industry. Gasoline and avgas and jet fuel and so on have the energy density needed for long-mission high-powered use. In this and like models the gas engines run electric generators which then run the electric motors which spin the props and actuate control surfaces and so on."

  "Quads and their like have difficult control problems, like trying to balance on stilts, four of them instead of two. The solution to that is fly-by-wire computers because they are flexible and powerful enough manage all the four-way balancing problems. Plus the problems of converting from vertical to horizontal flight and back again.

  "The last part of the solution to man-useful--pardon me, woman-useful--quads was ducting the props. Those have air-flow problems which bare props don't but someone solved those problem--mostly.

  "Ta-da!" He flung his arms wide.

  The plane had a body similar to that of a helicopter with sliding side doors for quick passage through them of troops or patient stretchers. There were two stubby fat wings near the front and an identical two near the back. Each had the flat bottom and the rounded top which created lift when the plane moved forward and air flowed over the surfaces. In the center of each wing was a round hole in which she could barely see the tips of multi-bladed propellers.

  Basil walked around the vehicle touching it. Jane followed suit. He lectured, she listened.

  The insides of the plane were much the same as those of the Shadow Hawks, not surprising as both were built to serve the same functions. This was true even of the cockpit and its instruments. There were a few displays and controls specific to the machine.

  "What's it called? The model line, I mean?"

  He grinned.

  "Griffin. It has two natures, and it flies."

  "And this particular one. What's its name?"

  "The captain skipped D, E, and F in the hopes we get craft to slot them into. So this is G for Griffin, so we'll probably call it George."

  Jane shook her head. "Got to be a girl's name."

  "So. Georgia."

  "Hmm. OK."

  He grinned at her. "YOU have no say. Cadet."

  "Just take my word for it. She won't work for you if you don't call her Georgia."

  "I am NOT a superstitious man. You're just a little girl. Not a prophet. Prophetess."

  He frowned at her. At the ugly vehicle beside them. Sighed. Laid a hand on her flank.

  "Hello, Georgia. My sweet. My love. Let's go show this sweet girl how gracefully you fly."

  <>

  "Hey, Boss. Pretty good week, huh?"

  "Come
in, First. Sit. What's up?"

  "All four craft. Flight Vehicle G is now Georgia. And operational though we still have to work out procedural kinks. We were lucky again. Turns out Miss Know-It-All really does know it all. At least when it comes to math, physics, and computer engineering. She checked out on the quad inside an hour and then began suggesting mods left and right.

  "Basil has hand cramps writing them up. Or typing them up. He thinks some of them might actually work. Sikorsky got wind of what was happening and its engineering team started screaming bloody murder."

  He chuckled. "I overheard some of the conversations. They went like this. 'That will never work. Impossible. Hmm. What? Oh, I see. You described the improvement poorly. You need to improve your writing. We already thought of that and it's in the next version. Goodbye.'"

  The Captain smiled. "If it's not invented here it's no good. And if it's good it WAS invented here."

  Chapter 12 - USAF Academy - Summer 1

  Trashhawler

  Saturday Jane and the other thirteen cadets congregated outside the Manor and took seats in Jane's van and Tony's SUV for a trip to San Antonio two hours to the east. So did a couple dozen other pilot candidates in the Open House event. Jane's friends had made friends and they rented a small school bus to join their friends in the trip to San Antonio.

  The first hour the view was flat, brown, and dry. And flat. And brown. And dry. Jane thought a land blasted by atomic radiation might look like this a century after it had started to make a comeback.

  Though in a sense it had. By the sun in the unrelieved flat blue of the sky. By 10:00 the temperature was hovering just under 100. Jane blessed the inventors of air conditioning. The van was buttoned up and the windows' tinting made the insides comfortable. People chatted to each other or read on their SuperSmart phones or tablets.

  It was Ricky, who'd triumphantly captured the shotgun seat before Kate, who noticed a difference.

  "Hey, look, trees!"

  The passengers glanced at the outside view. "What do you call those?" said Kate, pointing.

  "Pfft. Mesquite trees. They're not real trees. Just ambitious bushes. I mean THAT."

  He pointed. Upcoming was another of the trees which had excited his attention. A scrub oak, Jane thought it was called. A big round unquestionably green Real Tree.

  "Must be a river around here," said Klaus.

  "There is." Nicole was looking down at her tablet, "We're about to cross it. It's called the Nueces River."

  They all looked forward expectantly. Soon the bushes on each side of the highway grew closer together and were greener. Then they crossed a shallow narrow stream. It disappeared behind them.

  Kate was scornful. "That was a river?!"

  "No. THAT is the river." Ricky pointed forward. A metal framework enclosing the highway was coming up.

  For maybe a mile the bridge raised the highway a dozen feet. Or maybe it was the other way around. The land fell a dozen feet. But there was no water.

  Kate's scorn redoubled. "Ha! Some river."

  Ricky was silent for a time. Then, "Must be some water flow though. All this--" He waved at the outside in which grew more green bushes and an occasional scrub oak (if that was what the trees were called). "--has got to be watered by something."

  The greenery was still low and in patches separated by light brown grass but it was indisputably greener. Ricky pointed out the many tiny puffy white clouds which had begun to dot the sky.

  "Must be some source of moisture for that to happen."

  "Is there some point to this?" said Kate.

  "Yes. When we're up there, and especially when we're in the 'stans or some such primitive countries, with fewer navaids, we need to be able to read the land so we can better locate ourselves and our targets. Who may have anti-aircraft emplacements."

  Farm and ranch houses began to appear on both sides. Off in distance Jane saw what looked like a square mile of some crop, maybe corn.

  A sign came up announcing they were in Uvalde: Reduced Speed Ahead. Jane obediently slowed as more and more buildings showed up. Then a huge plot of low green plants: corn.

  Off to the right there was the undoubted sign of Civilization: an actual sign, a big one reporting the near presence of the Uvalde County Fairplex. To emphasize its nature, beside it was a huge cutout of a cowboy in a cowboy hat with wide chaps.

  Everyone but Jane stared at the big white buildings of the fairplex. Nicole, looking at her tablet, said, "They have rodeos here, bucking broncos, steer wrestling. Folks, we're in Cowboy Country."

  Ricky said, "We've been in cowboy country in Laughlin. We just didn't pay attention."

  "OK, folks," Jane announced. "We're halfway to San Antone. We're going to have a pit stop and a chance to walk around."

  Somebody said, "Can we stay around long enough for a burger or some pancakes? I only had Cheezits for breakfast."

  That was met with much derision, but in the end they stayed at a pancake house for a full hour. So did their friends in their small school bus.

  <>

  From then on they saw more greenery, more huge crops, several small towns. Nicole announced that they were in the San Antonio Metropolitan Statistical Area long before they saw any evidence of the city. Finally they passed through the outliers and suburbs of the city and saw the skyscrapers up ahead.

  "Finally," sighed Ricky. "Civilization."

  Half those in the van cracked up. But Jane was sure everyone felt the same: relief at being At Home. She certainly did. She'd never known anything but urban life.

  They and their school bus friends checked into a five-star hotel right on the river which meandered through the city. Most of them had reservations, some made a week in advance like Jane's (well, Kate's, who took being Jane's Exec seriously).

  With Jane's OK she'd gotten a luxury suite for Jane, 1600 square feet, a king size bed, and a big living room with an entertainment center.

  Adjoining it was a premium room with a King bed for Kate and Klaus and a second room with two double beds for Ricky and Nicole. The latter two may or may not, to Jane's knowledge, have a thing going but they said they would be able to share a room with suitable arrangements for privacy.

  These four had elected themselves Jane's Command Support echelon, without her knowledge or consent. She found it felt right, as if they would be sharing a squadron or a naval vessel in the future under her command. Why she felt this way, and why she didn't break up the arrangement, she did not understand. Nor try to.

  After dropping off their luggage in their rooms the five met briefly in Jane's living room. Kate suggested the five pretend to be "Commander Kuznetsov and Staff." Jane quirked an eyebrow but did not object when Kate called down to the main dining room and made lunch reservations for that entity. Then they freshened up and went downstairs to their table.

  There Jane found that all the nearly thirty people who'd come from Laughlin had adjoining tables. It turned out that Kate had enlisted them into the playacting. All acted with appropriate seriousness as if they were indeed the entourage of a military official in San Antonio for some no-doubt billion-dollar industry project or maybe an important military conference.

  Jane spoke to those at her table after everyone had been seated and had ordered.

  "I'll go along with this game as long as it doesn't interfere with my fun. I'm more interested in relaxing and seeing a few of the sights than doing anything specific. Don't screw that up and you can all do what you want. Pass it on."

  Jane's number one activity after the long lunch was a long nap. She'd been working hard ever since she'd arrived, not because was being driven but because she loved what she was doing. But even for her it had been a drain.

  The hotel was part of a big four-level shopping mall. The top level was mostly fashion. That was the second item on her loose itinerary: buying clothes and some makeup and toiletries. Tomorrow she'd be playing the piano at Lorena's Cantina. She wanted to look nice, though not flashily so. Just another of fou
r professionals.

  Besides, not being sure what she'd need at Laughlin she'd brought only the very minimum clothing. She wanted a few other items, ones she could mix and match to suit whatever social events she might attend on and off base.

  She wasn't the only Laughlin lady who wanted to shop. She crossed paths with Kate and Nicole twice and waved or nodded at them. Several other women she recognized as being from the base.

  After a leisurely time she deposited her purchases in her room and visited the hotel's beauty salon. She had a facial and mani pedi and had her hair done. It was short for work but she also wanted it to look attractive for her musical gig.

  She walked along the San Antonio River for a while, enjoying the sights. These include colorful small tour boats which seated maybe a dozen people moving serenely along, arched bridges over the narrow river festooned with ivy or the like greenery, gardenlets in nooks and crannies, riverside cafes under bright umbrellas. Trees were everywhere along the river, leaf-broken light dappling the walks which wound along beside the river.

  She sat often, random short passages of music wandering into and out of her thoughts.

  Time passed and she grew hungry as the sun sank toward evening. She ascended to the level above the river walk and sought out a café. Finding one with French cuisine she ordered a light meal. Halfway through it she saw Nicole walking by the sidewalk dining area outside the café and waved at her. The woman joined Jane and they had a long chat about nothing military.

  Asked about her evening plans, Jane said she thought to visit one of the salsa dances.

  "That sounds like fun. Too bad I don't dance salsa."

  "The basic step is easy. Here's the rhythm: Pause, right, left, right. Pause, left, right, left. Over and over again. You go back, forward, back. Then forward, back, forward.

  "That's it. For women. Men have to learn to lead.

  "If you get a good leader, you just start the two steps, the first part, then the second part. Repeat. It becomes automatic. You don't have to think, just pay attention to the beat, stay on it, and let the man do the hard work. Sends you out, bring you back. Turns you under his arm. Turns you away, turns you back.