Stars Fell on Alabama

by M. Alan Marr

  The Field Marshal leans her elbow on the table and directs her finger toward Dev. “You are in an iso-personal relationship with Commander Chaz, is that correct, sir?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is your judgment at all biased?”

  Dev smiles. “Not when it comes to flying, Field Marshal.”

  “All right, sir.” She directs her finger toward Chaz. “I’d like to see what happens if you put Lieutenant Commander Ronaldi in one of our flight simulators. I would like to see how he, to use your own words, adapts to our technology.”

  “I’d be more than curious to see that myself,” the Admiral says evenly, meaning that it is basically now an order.

  “Indeed,” the Field Marshal says plainly, and then issues stern words to Dev. “As a Combat Instructor Pilot, Commander Caelestis, you would be charged with the training of these would-be Earth-pilot candidates. Let us see you train this one.” She used both Chaz and Dev’s surnames to emphasize her seriousness.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dev turns to Bross. “Leftenant, contact Flight Training Command and get us into a simulation bay.”

  Chapter 22

  Star Under the Microscope

  Dev and Chaz hurriedly leave the combat center and literally run through the elegant Great Hall of the Admiralty. The high walls are adorned with large framed paintings of influential figures in the Tertian military, along with scale models of sailing ships and spacecraft. The museum-like quality of the Hall is disrupted by the echo of fast paced feet as Dev and Chaz as run toward the exit. An Admiral and her entourage are meandering toward the main doors.

  “Make way!” Dev shouts toward the group, quickly attracting everyone’s attention. In the current state of alert, no one questions this and clears the doorway. As they rush past the Flag Officer, Dev salutes but does not stop. “Apologies, Admiral!”

  Dev and Chaz dash across the large stone-lined courtyard, around the giant stone globe upheld by four tightly grouped pillars. Chaz glances at it in passing. He follows Dev down a grand set of outer stairs, holding on to his hat so it doesn’t go flying off his head. A silver vehicle makes a turn onto the roadway and heads toward their position. The four sentries and standard bearers at the base of the wide Admiralty stairs come to attention and turn to their side as they hear the hurried footsteps. Two guards flank toward the curb to meet the vehicle and stand ready to assist.

  Chaz stops to catch his breath at the sidewalk. He is winded, not due to lack of oxygen, but because the gravity on Trieste is a little heavier than what he’s used to. Being a car buff, he watches the Tertian vehicle approach, noting it has four wheels like its Earthly cousin, but he also immediately notices stark differences. For one, the treads of the tires—or the Tertian equivalent of tires—seem to glow an energetic blue while the car is in motion. The subtle sound of the vehicle winds down to nothing a few moments after the car stops, as does the glow of the tires. The four doors of the vehicle open; the front doors rotating forward, the aft doors rotating aft, making Chaz think of a four-door Lamborghini with suicide doors. The enlisted driver gets out of the vehicle and comes to attention.

  “Get in,” Dev says, bypassing the guard and going around to the opposite side door. The guards notice, but, of course, say nothing about this small breach of protocol. Normally, the senior would enter from the side of convenience. Dev and Chaz get in the rear seats. The driver position is oriented in the center front seat.

  “Flight Training Command,” Dev orders. The vehicle doors close automatically. The car begins moving forward and then smoothly accelerates to driving speed. Inside the car, the ride is smooth, and there is just a slight whirring sound.

  Chaz, still winded, leans toward Dev. “Why do the tires glow?”

  “They’re not tires,” Dev says quickly, and then takes a moment to explain. “They’re a polarized magnetic resin. Each wheel has a small generator that produces a field that energizes and rotates the tread.”

  “Cool.”

  “Okay, listen, I’m going to take you through a series of maneuvers from startup all the way to shutdown. You already know how to fly, and you handled my fighter a little already, so you have an idea of how our control systems work.”

  Chaz nods. “I assume they’re going to be watching?”

  “Half the Admiralty will be watching.”

  “Great, no pressure there.”

  “Trust me, once you’re in the simulation bay, you won’t be thinking about them. Now, there will be a Forward Air Controller whom you will hear but won’t see. The FAC staff will be in the background running the simulation systems.”

  “It takes a whole staff to run a simulator?”

  “This isn’t a BBJ.”

  FLIGHT TRAINING COMMAND

  ARTIFICIAL FLIGHT TRAINING CETNER

  You would think Chaz is the King of Earth by the amount of attention he is garnering from everyone at the training center, who have all gotten word of what is about to happen. Everyone wants to see him, and everyone definitely wants to see if he can fly. No one has ever seen an Earth resident before, and were it not for the military protocols and insulation Chaz’s rank provides, his celebrity would be unbearable to him. Dev was certainly correct when he told Chaz back on Adonis, it would be better if he used his Navy rank while he’s here.

  Chaz is impressed to find two flight suits waiting for them in the locker room—both, of course, are the correct size and rank. Dev and Chaz quickly change out of their uniforms and head into the recesses of the vast simulation complex. Chaz is a bit apprehensive as he follows Dev down a long utilitarian corridor under a series of metal buttresses behind the individual simulation bays.

  Chaz uses the walk to try to calm his nerves and clear his head. Flight simulators are certainly nothing new to him, after using airline simulators each and every year of his professional life, as well as the various military simulators he used in the Navy. Civilian or military, simulators are instruments of torment, challenging all who enter their realm as life-and-death situations are recreated with precision. Life-and-death situations triggered by the flip of a switch and can be worked through over and over again, for hours at a time. Dev stops at the designated bay. The door opens and they walk inside.

  The airline simulators Chaz is familiar with are aircraft cockpits built inside large electronic boxes atop a series of tall hydraulic jacks. The hydraulics move and jostle the box, simulating forces that, when combined with cockpit visuals and sound effects, create a very lifelike facsimile of the real thing. The Tertian simulation bay is nothing like that.

  They enter a large, nondescript spheroid room that has a life-size twin engine flight trainer at its center in a slightly recessed berth in the deck. Flat metallic wedges on the deck form a circle around the berth. Although the simulation room is presently inert, Chaz has no doubt whatever is in store for him will fool the senses as well or better than anything he has ever seen. He immediately notices the flight trainer is starkly different from Dev’s fighter. This is an entirely new and unknown entity. The pressure is back on, and the hairs on the back of Chaz’s neck tingle, and he hasn’t even boarded the trainer yet.

  As they approach the trainer, its upper canopies open like two gull wing hatches. Dev goes right into instructor-mode and speaks in official tones. He is all business.

  “Commander Chaz, this is a twin engine TransAt flight trainer. Enter the ship from vessel-left. Turn facing forward, right leg inside first. There’s a foothold forward center of the seat. Left leg in next. Grab hold of the forward canopy frame and settle into the seat. Secure restraints.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chaz replies and climbs aboard. He is tall, and the trainer recessed in the deck, so manning the ship is easy. He startles, however, when his pilot seat begins to move on its own.

  “Your seat automatically adjusts for optimal pilot position accounting for weight, height, posture, and line of sight.” Dev sits and buckles in while his own seat adjusts. Chaz looks around the dark instrument panels a
nd multitude of switches, dials, and gauges. The layout bears some similarity to the fighter, but not the same. It looks particularly daunting since Chaz is seated in the left seat and he will be the one flying. Chaz spent the last eleven years flying from the right seat; the sight picture and parallax view is different than that on the left. Then he remembers he told Dev that, on Earth, the pilot in command always sits on the left. No matter, he’s in the seat now, and, apparently, everyone is watching. Chaz hears com chatter in the background, specifically the words: “Artificial environment initiating in three, two, one.”

  Outside the trainer, the simulation bay visuals energize along the spheroid walls generating images of the countryside. The trainer rises out of the berth to the correct ground level were the actual ship resting on its landing gear. Chaz notices the visuals are distorted and two-dimensional as the picture clings to the convex walls. Not for long. As the system comes to power, the warped images extend inward toward the trainer, creating a flawless 3D environment. To the naked eye, they appear to be sitting on a launch pad in the middle of a large tarmac in a farm-like bucolic landscape. Were it not for the fine computer-generated grid lines present in the ground, the simulation would be indistinguishable from reality. A green azimuth surrounds the fighter on the pad. No other buildings, ships, or personnel are visible. Chaz is taken aback at how strikingly real the visuals appear, despite the subtle virtual azimuth and grid. Chaz could swear it even smells like the countryside, and feels a gentle breeze coming through the open canopies. Dev clears his throat slightly to divert Chaz’s attention back inside the cockpit. He doesn’t have to do it twice.

  “All right, Commander,” Dev says. “Forward overhead, on the canopy divide, are your master arming switches for internal power and atmospheric support. There is also a recessed split toggle switch to operate the canopies. Initiate those systems and close canopies.”

  Chaz locates the switches and activates them as instructed. The canopies close and lock. Inside the cockpit are the sounds of basic electronic systems powering up.

  Dev continues his instruction. “Left hand, forward of the control stick, there is a slanted panel with four rows of switches that direct main power to your internal systems, fuel pumps, weapons system, inertial and gravitation systems. First and second row switches, initiate.”

  Chaz finds the rows of switches and activates each of them. The third row of switches appear to belong to the weapons system and include words like target reticle, energy pumps, and pulse cannons. The engine and cockpit displays begin powering up. The ancillary support systems come online as well. Chaz knows Dev will not lead him into a trap, so he follows his directions exactly.

  “Fourth row, same panel,” Dev says. “Navigation, detection, communications, and telemetry. Initiate.”

  Each flip of a switch activates something in the cockpit. The avionics displays come to life and begin to align and orient themselves to proper heading, attitude, and altitude. “Forward glareshield panel, directly ahead, are your avionics controls. Select auto-sequence and heading. Next to that is a panel for your detection grid. Select holographic and topographic.”

  Chaz finds and activates the various systems. They are a combination of buttons, toggles, and knobs. Each control activation makes the ship feel like it is coming alive. The forward canopy begins displaying the flight instruments on the glass itself, just like in the fighter. The detection grid in the lower center begins populating with the holographic topography of the training landscape. Chaz feels like he’s moving in slow motion, since he’s so unfamiliar with the systems and is taking his time to make sure he activates the correct switches.

  Dev continues. “Next, propulsion system panel, center position, right hand. Select engine vents one and two to open; rotate turbine selects to trans atmospheric; engage reaction system initiator and starter generators, one and two.”

  Chaz knows the toggles for the engine vents, which are in the same position below the throttles as on the fighter. He rotates the turbine select knobs from shutdown, past close, then to trans atmospheric, and presses the push button for the reaction system, and the two starter generators, as instructed. The reaction system powers up and ignites with a much more noticeable jolt in this basic trainer. The two engine turbines are also spinning up, compressing atmospheric gasses into plasma that will be channeled into the main engines. Adrenaline begins ramping up in Chaz as well, as each action makes this training ship feel more and more substantial.

  “Engine status screen forward right. Starter generator status just below the turbine gauges.”

  “Uh, yes, I see them.”

  Dev watches as the starter generator bar graph winds up from the yellow zone into the green band on the display. “Your starter generators are now primed and confirmed by the illumination of the initiators on your propulsion panel. At this time, start engines one and two.”

  “Both at the same time?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Chaz presses the two start buttons, which are now glowing. The power surges into the engines, causing the ship to shudder momentarily, while the two engines sync and reach idle power. There is no mistaking it, the ship feels totally alive. The heightened sensation of the moment sends a shiver down Chaz’s spine.

  “Commander Chaz,” Dev says, “your board is green and stable. You have two throttles, and just like at home, they move forward to increase power, aft to reduce. Full aft beyond the backstops engages reverse thrusters. A significant difference in Tertian aircraft is that your throttle grips are articulated. Rolling the throttle grips forward increases power to the zero-g system and ventral thrusters; rolling the throttle grips aft reduces. Full aft on the throttle grips is the Grav-Lock position, which engages ground lock mode and anchors the ship to the pad. At this time, I want you to take the flight control stick with your left hand, place your right hand on the throttles, feet on the pedals, and standby for my instruction.”

  “Yes, sir.” Chaz carefully does as instructed.

  Dev keys a communication line. “Instructor Pilot to Forward Air Control. Ready to commence primary flight training operations. Disengage vertical flight locks.”

  “Instructor Pilot, Forward Air Control, understood. Parameters confirmed. Vertical flight locks released. You are free to initiate vertical maneuvering.”

  Chaz heard a sound when the controller said flight locks released. He takes a slow, deep breath. He knows it is time to fly. Chaz doesn’t realize it, but just like Dev said, he hasn’t given the idea of everyone watching a single thought.

  “All right, Commander, slowly roll the throttle grips out of the Grav-Lock detent. That will arm and activate the vertical maneuvering system.”

  The throttle grips feel stiff. Chaz increases pressure slightly to overcome the resistance, and the grips click out of the Grav-Lock detent. The status screen displaying the message Grav-Lock switches to vertical maneuvering system information. Chaz hears some kind of energetic power up sound, and a cloud of dust gently billows out from below the ship as the ventral thrusters engage.

  “Commander Chaz,” Dev continues, “throttle grips only: slowly roll the grips forward to increase power to the vertical lift system. As the ship’s weight against the tarmac begins to reduce, it will start to feel . . . slippery. Using the lateral and pitch axis control stick with your left hand, keep the ship steady and on station over the docking pad. Gently bring the ship up into a level hover. Understood?”

  “Understood.” Chaz flexes his fingers gingerly around the control stick. “Here we go.”

  Chaz very slowly rolls the throttle grips forward. They remind him of stiff motorcycle grips. He can hear power growing somewhere in the ship, and he sees more dust sweeping away from the ship. He feels the trainer starting to lighten up on the landing gear and begin to break ground contact. Chaz over rotates the throttle grips slightly and the ship rises, seemingly a bit too fast. He eases back a little on the grips, and the ship settles about six feet above the pad. Altitude is stab
le, but the rest of the ship is not. The pitch begins to fall back and left as if the entire ship is being balanced on the head of a pin. This takes Chaz back to his first days as a student helicopter pilot learning to hover, only now this ship’s position is locked over the pad. It is a strange sensation. Lateral track is locked in place, but the ship is able to freely pivot over the pad. Chaz compensates and manages to get the ship in a reasonably stable hover.

  Dev continues, “On your throttle stock, just above the grips, is a green button that controls the landing struts.”

  Chaz glances at the throttles. “I see it.”

  “Keep your hand on throttles and initiate that switch with one finger.”

  Chaz uses his middle finger to press the green button. The button turns amber as the landing gear retracts. Chaz hears the gear complete its retraction and notices the amber light extinguishes. He also notices the ship feels even more slippery now.

  “Feel that?” Dev says. “Your gravity field is now unencumbered by the landing struts, so the ship is going to be much more sensitive to control inputs.”

  Chaz nervously nods. Pressure is mounting.

  Dev, satisfied with what he sees, nods. “Instructor Pilot to Control, release all flight locks in ten.”

  “Understood IP, releasing flight locks in ten, nine, eight…”

  While the countdown is heard on the radio, Chaz feels the tension mounting.

  “Commander Chaz, when the flight locks are released, the ship will be free. Try to maintain a stable hover on station.”

  “ . . . three, two, one.” There is a mechanical sound, which Chaz assumes must be the flight locks. The trainer immediately begins to stray off the pad and across the tarmac.

  “You’re drifting port, Commander, correct to starboard,” Dev says calmly.

  “Correcting.” Chaz over controls, and the ship heads off in a wide right turn now, much more than it had been to the left.

  “Over controlling,” Dev says evenly. “Smaller corrections. Maintain aft rotational yaw with your foot controls.”