Chapter Twenty-Five
SOMEWHERE IN RUSSIA
“Cathay Pacific 6073 declaring an emergency... come in Chek Lap Chuc... Mayday... Mayday... Cathay 6073 calling Hong Kong... Cathay 6073 calling anyone... anyone reading this station! Respond, please! We are declaring an emergency! Mayday... Mayday...’ Sorry Captain, I’m not being received. It appears we are broadcasting, but I cannot be sure.”
“Thanks Don, keep trying every chance you get. We have already been here nearly three days, we have to get outside and see if we can get our bearing.”
Captain Hunter, could hardly believe it had been three long, cold, miserable days since their near collusion with the Airbus A330. The turbulence created by the UFO streaking between their Boeing 777 and the on-coming plane prevented a disastrous head-on crash; however, Captain Haskell Hunter and his Co-pilot Donald Walker could not overcome the rapid descent of the aircraft. After an un-successful, valiant effort to keep the plane in the air, during the monster of a snowstorm, they succeeded in landing somewhere in the vast expanse of the northern steppes of Russia. Neither would bring up the subject of the Unidentified Flying Object.
“What about the wheel-well Don? We might be able to use the mechanic’s entrance panel in the floor next to the forward galley to get outside. We could drop through that opening down into the luggage compartment. Once we get in that compartment there is another service panel directly above the front wheels. If we can get it open and get inside the wheel-well... we... we... well we’ll just have to play it by ear from there, I guess.”
“Come on Captain, let’s give it a try.”
Back in the passenger compartment the movement by the pilot and co-pilot caused a stir among the sleepers, including Sam Lin and Si Lei. “What’s going on Captain?” asked Sam Lin.
“We’re going to attempt to work our way to the outside through the front wheel-well. We need to see if we can determine just exactly where we landed. Well, landed may not be the right word. Anyone want to help - we sure could use it.”
“Count me and Si Lei in Captain - we’ll help!”
“Great, follow me.”
Passing through the First Class Section a grey haired gentleman with a neatly trimmed Vandyke beard reached out and grabbed Captain Hunter’s arm as they passed. “Yes sir, is there something I can do for you?” The Captain asked looking down at the man’s hand on his arm.
Speaking with a Scottish accent he answered, “Aye Captain, I heard ye say ye are going to attempt to get outside this infernal machine through the wheel-holes. Ye realize they will probably be packed with a wee bit of snow - we didn’t come in fer a right smooth landing as ye know.”
“Yes, you are correct. Do you have a question sir?”
“No, not a question. I might tho’ have an answer. Ye see laddie, I am Dr. Phillip Mann, Professor of Archeology at Harvard University. That’s in Boston... Boston, Massachusetts... Massachusetts is in the USA, ye know?”
“Yes, Professor, I know where Harvard is located, please continue,” the Captain said impatiently rolling his eyes.
“Oh yes, to continue - my students and I were on our way to evaluate a recent fossil find in the Chinese Province of Hunan...”
“Yes, yes, this is all very interesting Professor Mann,” the Captain said interrupting the Professor, “and I would love to hear more about your trip, but as you probably can tell, I am a little busy right now.”
“Oh, right ye are! That’s my point. My students and I have picks and shovels in our baggage in the luggage compartment below. Ye will need some type of digging instruments to remove all that infernal snow. Won’t ye my laddie?”
“You are a Godsend Professor - but how can we identify your baggage from all the dozens and dozens of other bags? We could be looking for hours.”
“Very simple my lad. All our bags have a large strip of red tape around and about them.” Smiling and stroking his beard, he continued, “Oh, I bet ye a pound sterling ye thought I was going to say Scotch tape, get it... Scotch?”
“Yes Professor,” Captain Hunter answered, agitated, “I got it!”
“I do say... it’s that red, what is it called? Oh yes, mounting... no... no... masking tape... yes that’s it - masking tape. I do that, so my clan of students can easily identify their bags at the airport baggage terminals. Just look for the bags with the red tape - each will have one of those small folding Army shovels in it. Ye’re welcome to’em.”
“Thanks Professor, thank you very much.”
“Oh, laddie, one thing...if yer find any fossils gimme a holler,” he said grinning.
DIG GUYS DIG!
Captain Hunter, Co-pilot Don Walker, Sam Lin and Si Lei had retrieved the shovels from the bags of the Harvard archeologists in the Boeing’s luggage compartment. They found and opened the maintenance plate, which allowed the four of them to slide down onto the two large Goodyear tires in the front wheel-well. The professor had been correct - the wheel compartment was packed with snow - freezing, cold snow.
Surveying the situation all was not bad. The temperature was still in the minus forty to minus fifty-degree range. This was good. No, not really, fifty below is bad, but it was so cold the snow did not pack itself together; it was simply a fluffy white powder. Captain Hunter thought it reminded him of flour or talcum powder. Powder snow is much easier to dig through than hard, packed, wet snow.
Each person manned a shovel and began moving the snow from the front of the tires to the side - it seemed hopeless. The wheel-well was quickly filling up with loose snow. “Come on guys, I believe I can see the snow beginning to lighten. I think we are getting close to digging out! Come on don’t stop now! Dig guys dig!”
The words had barely escaped Captain Hunter’s nearly frozen lips when one of the shovels broke through to the outside. Pushing the snow aside, they widen the hole more and more. In a few minutes, they were able to slide through and finally the four of them were standing knee deep in the white fluff. They were outside! This allowed them to get a look and survey their ‘landing field’.
They cast searching eyes in every direction - they saw nothing. Well nothing, except snow. It was everywhere. If one had been talking about a winter wonderland, this would be the place they had in mind.
Captain Hunter was the first to speak, “Men, we seem to have landed on a large frozen lake. Look over there,” he said pointing in one direction. “It looks to be a couple of miles to those trees. We need to get around to the rear of the airplane and check if we have sustained any structural damage.” The plane was blocking their view - actually it did not look like a plane - it was just an enormous pile of snow! The plane was wholly covered from nose to tail - they couldn’t even see the wings.
As they struggled to trudge around the snow covered airplane, Captain Hunter asked one of the men to walk up the mound of snow and brush away the snow from the windshield. “When we get back inside, sitting in the cockpit, we need to be able to see what is happening outside.”
The four of them spent a few minutes checking out their ‘neighborhood’. Their first impression had not changed - they were sitting on a large frozen lake with nothing but miles and miles of endless snow in every direction. The worst thing - they saw was no indication of life - no buildings, no houses or no animals. They were in the vast Russia steppe - there probably was not a living person in hundreds if not thousands of square miles.
Before going back into the hole to the wheel-well, Sam Lin spoke, “Captain, what do you think we should do?”
“Gentlemen, I appreciate the fact that I am in charge and should have an answer, and I do. My answer is: I just simply do not have an answer - sorry.”
Back inside the aircraft, the passengers scrambled toward the front of the aircraft as the diggers re-appeared. They wanted to hear what they had to say. The assembled travelers were enthusiastic and apprehensive, but hearing the report on the conditions outside, their mood changed to extreme despair and desperation. The temperature inside the craft
was extremely cold, but after the discouraging news, the temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees.
Most of the mumbling and questioning centered on one question, “Captain, what are you going to do?”
The Captain tried to be honest with the passengers. He explained that they were in a terrible predicament. The best he could tell, they were sitting on a frozen lake, with no recognizable civilization within sight. Even if a rescue plane flew directly overhead it would not be able to see them - they were buried in a huge mound of snow. The emergency beckon may or may not be working – the Captain didn’t even feel certain if it actually works at fifty below zero. The Mr. Walker could not get their radio to operate - lightening may have hit the antenna while they were in that terrible snowstorm. He had no idea what was wrong with the radio, but he told the passenger they had two chances that some local populace will stumble upon them - slim and none. That was the grim news... he did not have any good news. Actually he did have one piece of news that could be considered good: the plane appeared to be undamaged when it ‘landed’.
“If more information concerning our situation comes to me, I will pass this information on to you all – whether good or bad. Right now my co-pilot and I will be in the cockpit working on the radio. We might by chance get it to work.”
He told them Sam Lin and Si Lei from Row 11 had gone back out into the snow and were using clothing from the luggage compartment to form an SOS on top of the aircraft. Anyone flying over should be able to see the distress signal.
“Captain,” a lady in the crowd of passengers asked, “why not ask for a volunteer to go outside to go for help?”
“Ma’am, as you realize we are in our third day – our situation is dire but we are not desperate. Allow me to give you all some facts - we can go a long time without food, probably a week or two. The critical item is water. Fortunately, we have all we need - outside as snow. With water, we have the ability to wait until rescued. It is just a matter of time... the authorities at Hong Kong realize we are overdue and have, I’m sure, initiated a search and rescue mission, but I’m sorry, it could be quite a long wait for them to find us.
As far as sending someone out – it would be irresponsible of me to allow someone go outside. Who would go? In which direction would they walk? Walk? That’s a laugh. The snow is at least two to three feet deep, and we have no snowshoes. The temperature is minus fifty degrees and we have no suitable clothing to wear in this bone-chilling, frigid, cold. No, I’m sorry, but we will just have to stay inside our aircraft and wait... just wait... days or maybe weeks if need be... just wait, someone will come - we cannot give up hope.”
Sam Lin and Si Lei returned to their seats after positioning the SOS distress signal, bundled up and tried to get warm. Captain Hunter and his assistant Co-pilot Walker returned to the cockpit and continued their attempt to reach the Hong Kong airport.
“Sam Lin? Sam Lin, are you awake?”
“Yeah, Si Lei, what?”
“Sam Lin, do you think we will ever get to Bangkok and complete the mission of investigating Mr. Ryan Rousseau for Captain Scarburg? It’s not looking good, is it? We’re going to die out here in this frozen wasteland. Die Sam Lin! They will find our bodies frozen stiff like popsicles! I told you Brother I don’t like whale blubber.”
“Hush... Si Lei, don’t be so morbid, be optimistic, we will get out of here - somehow, someway. Do not worry, everything is going to be okay.”
“Whale blubber - yuck!! Yeap, frozen! Frozen stiff, like popsicles, that’s how they will find us... frozen solid!”
Most all the passengers, including the captain and co-pilot, could do now were to stay wrapped up, and occasionally doze off for a few minutes. For the most part, they were in the midst of this activity when...
WHAT IS THAT NOISE?
“What is that noise?” asked the co-pilot to Captain Hunter. “Do you hear that?”
“What,” responded the Captain? “What did you say?” he replied as he sleepily, aroused from his nap.
The co-pilot again directed the captain to the sound he heard. The Captain sat up in his left pilot’s seat and cocked his head to the side to enable himself to hear better. There... there it was again... he did hear it this time. It had a high-pitched whine that sounded surprisingly like a household vacuum cleaner.
“What is that Don? It seems to be coming from outside. Listen... it is getting louder!” Both men were leaning forward faces close to the front windshield straining to see if they could discern the source of the hum, which was beginning to increase in volume and intensity. Now it sounded more like a high-pitched whine of a jet engine than a household appliance. Actually one jet engine could not make that sound, thought the Captain.
The door from the cockpit to the passenger compartment was standing wide open - a small crowd had gathered. They had heard the sound also. Sam Lin and Si Lei were standing at the front of the group, practically inside the cockpit. “What is it?” asked Sam directing his question to Captain Hunter.
Before the pilot could respond the snow suddenly began blowing against the windshield. So much snow was flying their vision outside was totally obliterated. The noise had become exceedingly loud... it was right outside... it seemed to be coming from directly in front of them. The blowing snow slowly subsided enough to allow again the crowd inside to see the wintery, landscape outside.
The whine was diminishing, and the snow was settling down. The shine off the dazzling circular metal craft sitting outside the window was blinding. It appeared as if the rays of the sun were shining off a gleaming mirror. In spite of the blinding glare, they could see an emblem formed into a circle on the front. The disc-like symbol was divided into four sections. In one, was a face of a man; the second a lion, the third a bull and the final section contained an eagle. Sam Lin and Si Lei recognized this emblem immediately - they had seen it before - this was the symbol of the planet Sunev.
It was sitting – no, not sitting hovering would be a more apt description – floating, as it seemed, about ten or fifteen feet above the ground! The craft was so large and so close to the front of their aircraft the UFO’s right and left edges could not be seen. Slowing, the machine began to retreat. At first ten feet, then twenty feet, at approximately fifty feet it stopped moving.
All those squeezed into the cockpit now could see its enormous size. It was no less than twenty feet high, circular and stretched at least one hundred feet edge to edge. It was still humming, like a tuning fork but softly. Streaks of, what looked like small bolts of lightning, danced along the bottom of the UFO and leaped to the snow below.
“Don! Don! This is the same object, which passed between the A330 and our plane. Its turbulence threw us into the spin, which prevented our two planes from crashing head-on. Isn’t it the same one?”
With eyes almost twice their normal size Co-pilot Walker swallowed hard and replied, “Uh-huh.”
Not only did Sam Lin and Si Lei recognize the round emblem on the front they recognized the strange craft staring them in the face. They both remember reading Captain Scarburg’s report of Tinker’s encounter with this same craft at Pac Toul, Cambodia back in 1967.
They remembered she said the craft looked like two saucers turned one on the other. The circular body was divided into four sections. The lower bottom section would be the upturned saucer. The upper portion, the overturned saucer was divided into three sections. She said the bottom ring was spinning, emitting a humming sound. This ring glowed a bright orange but was not hot, but she could feel air rushing from it. She said static electricity was jumping from the craft to the ground. It danced all around the craft. Above this glowing ring was another ring that did not rotate. There were four portholes mounted in this section. This ring was of a silver color, platinum thought Tinker. Above this ring was another ring exactly the same width with the appearance of being gold or gold plated. It spun opposite to the bottom ring. Above this ring was the final ring, also gold. This ring extended to the very top whe
re a blue-tinted observation dome was located.
Looking out the front windshield, Sam Lin thought, ‘Well Tinker did a terrific job describing this sucker, she hit it right on the nose.’
Someone questioned if the Captain had any weapons aboard. The Captain had barely finished shaking his head when one of the passengers yelled, “Then how are you going to defend us from this... this... flying saucer?”
“Defend!! Defend you - are you kidding? That thing probably has weapons of which we never have dreamed. Trying to use a gun against them would be like throwing rocks at a battleship.”
Sam Lin turned to the crowd and proclaimed, “Calm, stay calm I do not think they intend us any harm.”
Someone yelled, “How do you know?”
Before Sam could answer, the lower ring of the ‘saucer’ began to spin faster and faster and started to glow a bright orange color. The ring above the portholes dropped down and covered the portholes and this ring began to spin counter-clockwise to the first. The wind produced by the spinning rings began to increase, blowing harder and harder. It was beginning to blow the snow away from the ground underneath the ‘flying saucer’. In a second or two, the ice covering the lake became visible; the craft moved closer and closer to their downed plane. The snow was being blown away as if a giant leaf blower were at work.
The alien vehicle moved over the entire giant Boeing 777, clearing its cocoon of snow better than a ground crew could do at any major airport. Once the saucer had removed the snow it moved back to the front of the aircraft and stopped. Sam Lin and Si Lei crowded close to the cockpit window could they saw a tiny ‘person’ with large almond shaped black eyes peering down at them from the craft’s blue, observation dome. Seeing Sam Lin and Si Lei this little ‘person’ reached up and tipped the brim of his hat. An old, brown, sweat stained, tattered cowboy hat.
“Anhur, you son of a gun,” said Sam Lin softly as he and Si Lei bowed their heads. Only the three of them realized they knew each other.
The UFO began slowly to move across the snow-covered ice blowing clear a runway as it gently floated across the frozen lake. Its large size created a clear path in the snow at least 150 feet wide. So clear, Captain Hunter could see the rays of the sun reflecting off the blue of the frozen ice crystals beneath. It proceeded down the length of the lake for a few thousand yards before lifting from the icy surface. It then shot off and at an incredible speed disappearing in a flash over the distant horizon. Captain Hunter later would say the craft’s speed surely must have approached 2,000 to 2,500 miles per hour. He said it was faster than any military jet he had ever seen.
“Okay, Don, start through the checklist, get all the systems set. We’re getting ready to see if this sucker will fly again.”
“What? We’re going to try to takeoff from this frozen lake?”
“Nope! We’re not going to try - we are going to DO IT! Get ready Mr. Walker, we’re going flying. I don’t know who they are or where they came from, but obviously they were here to rescue us. We didn’t survive a near collision, a crash landing and fifty below temperatures, on our good looks. I have the feeling all our flight systems will work.”
Speaking into the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, please replace all your tray tables and return you seats to an upright and locked position. Flight attendants prepare the cabin for takeoff - we’re getting ready to put this bird back into the air!”
A tremendous roar shook the windows of the plane; everyone was clapping, and at the same time yelling, “We’re leaving!”
Captain Hunter turning to Mr. Walker, “Switch on the Auxiliary Power Unit (APU).”
“Roger, APU engaged.”
“Open the APU Bleed Air Valve.”
“Roger, APU Bleed Air Valve open.”
“Open the Central Pneumatic System valves.”
“Roger, CPS Valves open.”
“Release APU Bleed across turbines.”
“Roger, turbines beginning to turn.”
“Once the oxygen percentage reaches fifty per-cent in the combustion chambers we will introduce fuel.”
“Roger, fuel control switches engaged.”
“Okay, Mr. Walker - the moment has arrived - auto ignition - one, two, three...”
Before the Captain could say ‘four’ the engines began to turn over. At first they were slow and shook violently. Captain Hunter thought, must have been a lot of snow still in those GE-90 turbofan beasts. A couple of seconds and the rpms on the engines began to increase, and the shaking subsided. The rpms continued to increase. They were beginning to roar. That sounds good, thought Captain Hunter.
Reaching over to the center console, the Captain pushed the throttles forward, about a third power at first. The engines seemed to be operating flawlessly - their roaring scream increased smoothly to a deafening whine. The engines were warming up, so was the air blowing into the interior of the passenger compartment. “Heat! Heat! Thank you Captain!” Someone yelled from the back.
“Release the brakes Mr. Walker.”
“Release the brakes? What brakes... we never used any brakes!”
“Okay, well... well, Mr. Walker,” the Captain said pushing the throttles wide open, “Keep your fingers crossed. Let’s go!”