“Like that, huh? It’s entirely new to me too. The pressure from the control surfaces of the plane is transmitted to your hands and feet. I figured it would improve pilot performance. I like the results so far. I’m pleased that you noticed.”
“What other Sci-fi gadgets did you put in these things?”
“Oh a few. One that you probably couldn’t appreciate is the dogfight assist.”
“I should have known.”
“I was just thinking back to the old days. Anyway, in a dogfight you try to get in behind the plane you want to shoot down, and visa versa. You can imagine how difficult it can be, especially if that pilot has a good airplane, or is good himself. You have to be able to properly judge your opponent’s actions, correctly, so I thought of an advantage. I thought of it years ago, but I was just a lowly Lieutenant back then, and they didn’t have the technology anyway, so I didn’t mention it to anyone. When the plane you’re pursuing makes any kind of maneuver, it must move one of the control surfaces, correct?”
“Yeah,” Tim agreed.
“Well, I put a high speed, high resolution camera in the front of my plane to signal the flight computer the millisecond any of the surfaces on the target changes, and my plane responds instantly. You understand?”
“Yeah, instead of turning after you see the plane turn, you turn right when he starts his, but isn’t that cheating?”
“Pretty good, and no that isn’t cheating, not when you are fighting for your life.”
“Well, I don’t think that we’ll need any of that, assist to kill stuff, on this trip.”
“You never know Timmy, you never know.”
Tim didn’t answer because he hoped that Arty had no intentions other than to just explore. They were safe. If they just played it cool and smart there wasn’t anything that could catch them. He was sure of that. They could go anywhere they wanted, just to look around. That had been the purpose the planes were built for, Tim thought.
While they were slicing through one of the deep dark canyons in the clouds, Tim pushed the throttles past the standard-full position, to the emergency position. The jolt was incredible as the G’s shot to twelve in two-seconds, and in five-seconds he had accelerated from just below 1700 knots to over 2800, before pulling the throttles back.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to get adventurous.” Arty said.
“It’s okay then,” returned Tim.
“It’s done already, and yes it’s okay. The more you learn about that plane, the better. Let’s go up and head east,” commanded Arty.
Tim was just starting up into a climb when Arty’s plane flashed over him, going vertical, with the engines evidently in full emergency power, Fifty foot compact cones of bright, white flame imbedded with shock diamonds were shooting back from each engine. In seconds all he could see of Arty was the two bright white beacons disappearing rapidly in front of him. He pushed his engines to full emergency power, pulled the stick back, and followed. He ran at full power until his speed had climbed to 2950 and still there was no Arty so he backed off and held his speed at about 3100 and flattened out his climb at fifty-five thousand, nine-hundred and eighty feet. Tim watched the ground pass rapidly, far below him.
*
A beep caught his attention and in the hologram directly in front of his chest, two blips appeared. The color code said aircraft and the numbers said a hundred and sixty-seven miles ahead and slightly to the left.
“Arty, hey helloooo Arty, come in Arty,” Tim called out.
“Arty here, what’s up?”
“We’ve got some company,” Tim answered.
“Yes, I saw them. They appear to be fighters.”
“Maybe we should get out of here?” I don’t want any kind of contact.
“What for? We have just as much right to be here as they have. Besides, they’re fifty miles out and couldn’t do much about us anyway, even if they wanted to.”
Arty is bragging, I can tell by the tone of his voice, and he just confessed to being a lot closer to the fighters than I am.
“Still, we aren’t looking for any trouble, right?” Tim asked.
“Right, but a little fun is a different thing,” Arty returned.
“Ah shit Arty, come on, we don’t need this. For christ sakes. . .don’t screw around. Where are you, dammit, Arty answer me?”
Arty didn’t respond.
The two blips had turned slightly and were now moving almost straight across his line, now only a hundred miles out. Tim kept his speed and direction the same and figured he would pass about twenty miles to their rear. He remembered Arty said the TT Fighters could not be picked up by radar, which explained why his radar had no idea where Arty was, and why the two fighters would never know Arty was even there.
The two blips suddenly split and increased speed. As Tim watched them in the hologram they began to twist and turn all over the sky. Now I know where Arty is.
“Arty, leave them alone, dammit! Arty, you’re going to give us away, please, leave them alone!”
Tim waited for a few seconds and watched the two blips as they obviously were trying to shake something off their backs. “You’re a shit-head Arty!” Tim was mad. “We don’t need this kind of crap. Leave them alone!”
Tim decided to pick up the conversations from the other two pilots. It was simple to do in the TT Fighter. The computer locked on to their frequency immediately upon request.
“Blue leader, to Blue one.” One of the pilots was agitated, his voice bordering on panic. “I can’t shake this Son-of-a-Bitch! Nothing works! What the hell kind of a plane is it?”
“I don’t know Cat Man, I don’t recognize it. Keep up the good work; you’re doing just great Son. I’m trying to work around behind him.”
“Good work?” the pilot questioned. “Major, he’s got my ass! Damn, nothing can shake him, Major, please help me out! Get this thing off my tail!” the pilot pleaded.
Tim could hear the pilot straining to breath.
“Arty!” Tim switched back to his frequency. “Arty get the hell off him. He’s scared dammit. Don’t do this, please. Arty let’s just go, you’ve had your fun. Arty!” Tim was pleading, but Arty still didn’t answer.
One of the blips had slowed and was going straight down. Tim switched back to the frequency of the other two planes.
“Blue one, Blue one, eject, you’ve been hit! I repeat, eject, you’ve been hit.” There was a pause. “Blue one, get out now. Please, Blue one, eject, eject.” Tim could sense the anguish of the Major as he had just lost one of his men.
Tim could see the track of the burning plane a little to his right and way below him. Then the track suddenly ended in a small flash and a dozen smoky objects continued down.
“Blue wing, this is Blue flight leader. I repeat this is Blue leader.” It was the remaining fighter calling home.
“Blue leader, this is Blue wing, go ahead.” Tim didn’t know who was answering.
“Blue wing, Blue one is down! I repeat, Blue one is down.”
“I copy Blue leader, what is your status?”
That must be the base the two fighters originated from.
“I am on a course of 111, speed 760 knots, no damage, low on fuel, but I can make it home. Hostile has disappeared.”
“Be advised Blue leader, we have no hostiles in the area.”
“Be advised Blue wing, Blue one is down from action with a hostile. I repeat Blue one is down from hostile action.”
Boy, that Major is really pissed.
“Blue Leader, Angel Eyes confirms there are no hostiles in your area.”
“Blue Wing, my radar didn’t confirm the hostile either, but my eyes did. The hostile fired a bolt of light into Blue One. Blue One is down, I repeat, Blue One is down. There was no chute. You can call his mother now!”
Good for you Major, don’t take any shit from someone that wasn’t there.
Tim had swung in behind the fleeing fighter, which turned out to be an F-16. He had closed to
about five miles, high and behind, and was sure the Major couldn’t see him. Damn Arty, I’m not going to let him shot this plane down. I don’t know how I can stop him, but I’ll try if I have to.
Tim went back to his frequency. “Arty come in, come in damnit.”
I swear, I’ll ram him, if I have to,” Tim said to himself.
“Arty come in! Tim shouted into the comm.”
Tim switched back to the remaining F-16.
“Blue Leader, describe the hostile.” It was the fighter’s base again.
“Blue Wing—small, black, fighter aircraft, twin engine, twin stabilizers, front canards, almost delta. Not sure about rear tail planes. Extremely, and I emphasize, ‘extremely fast and maneuverable’. Made first pass on us at estimated 2000, to 2500 knots. Our radar did not pick it up, I repeat, hostile had stealth capabilities. Blue one, could not shake it. It fired on Blue One with a laser, I repeat, Blue One destroyed by laser hit. Do you copy?”
“Yes Blue Leader, we copy. Ah, Blue Leader, did the hostile have any markings?”
“No, smooth and black, and clean as a whistle.”
“Are you sure, no markings?”
“Yes Blue Wing, I am sure. I got a good look at the top, bottom, and sides, and there were no markings.”
“Anything else to report Blue Leader?”
“Yes, hostile had very powerful ‘jet’ engines.”
There was a hesitation. “What indicated jet engines, Blue leader?”
“Blue Wing, engines had intakes, repeat, it was an air breather, and its engines produced a brilliant blue-white exhaust with a long string of shock diamonds. I repeat, bright blue-white exhaust, extensive shock diamonds at heavy throttle.”
*
It was a minute or so until there was a reply. “Blue Leader, this is Blue Wing. Do you want to report a UFO, Blue Leader?”
“A what?” Blue Leader sounded stunned by the request. “It was an airplane, dammit; it came from some place here.”
“Blue Leader, do you want to report a UFO?”
“No, no I don’t.”
*
Many blips began to appear in the far range hologram so Tim pulled the nose of the TT Fighter up and continued to climb until he had reached one-hundred-thousand feet. It was safe up there, and he needed time to think. This is not good because Arty’s shot down a military plane. How could he be so stupid? Doesn’t he see what the outcome will be? They will pursued us now because we’ve made ourselves visible. We have attracted attention. It’s a bad, bad move. I’m sure of that.
*
Tim continued flying east at the one-hundred-thousand altitude and had set his speed at 2500 knots. From this height, the curve in the Earth’s surface was evident. He could make out many geological formations below and could see some highways and towns, but the detail was poor. Above the sky was a dark, dark purple. He watched with intent for land marks to establish his position. He could have the computer locate him to within a few feet, but he wanted to do this by himself. It wasn’t clear to even him, why, but something deep inside said to do it. He was trying to analyze his emotions.
Timtown, what does it really mean? It is a salvation, safe from all the things that had gone wrong in the last few weeks, an incredible experience that I probably would have taken part in even if things had remained normal.
*
He was now coming up on what he was sure were the Great Salt Lakes. He played with the computer a little and it said that he would pass over the expanse of the entire salt desert formation in one minute and twenty-one seconds. In barely over a minute I’m going to race over a major obstacle that a scant one hundred years ago would have been almost impassable to anyone wishing to cross.
*
Tim continued to fly east. He was getting low on fuel and would have to drop down to a lower altitude to replenish his tanks. The plane’s engines burned hydrogen and the plane had a hydrogen generator similar to the one Mr. V had given him for the van, but it needed the thicker air down low to accomplish its function efficiently. He scanned the holograms for any other planes. He would also have to fly at a slower speed to pick up his hydrogen and he wanted to be sure he was alone.
*
He pulled the throttles back and pushed the nose of the fighter down, starting toward the ground eighteen miles below. As he descended he called for Arty repeatedly, with no results. He began to fear that his brother may have also gone down. Maybe Arty had been justified in his actions.
He started the hydrogen generator at thirty-thousand feet, but even at this altitude it would take fifteen minutes to fill the tanks so he continued to go down. He leveled out at three-thousand feet and 600 knots to continue the refueling.
*
The long range sensors were picking up something four hundred miles in front of him. According to the description on the computer it was a mountain range, but when he checked the topography of the area it was supposed to be flat plains. The long range sensors indicated strong storms over the supposed mountains. Tim figured that the long range sensors might be malfunctioning, or the storms were causing some sort of distortion to the equipment.
*
His tanks read full so Tim pointed the TT Fighter up and increased the power to the engines, putting himself into a long gentle climb. He had reached fifty-thousand and was again traveling east at 1800 knots when he was able to see something out in front of the plane. He was coming up on a thick line of clouds stretching out of his sight to the North and South. The map indicated that he was over the central plains, and the sensors said that the clouds continued far north into Canada, and south beyond the range of the radar. The equipment still said that there were mountains under the clouds.
The line of clouds was white and wispy on the top, which was still above his fifty-two-thousand foot altitude. He was racing toward the West-side of the clouds as they rolled up from the bottom where it was dark and foreboding. Just as he was about to dart into the black mass he pulled hard back on the control stick and stood the TT Fighter on its tail. He went straight up until he reached the top of the cloud formation which turned out to be at sixty-eight-thousand. He leveled the plane out and just barely skimmed the top of the clouds.
*
He had traveled fifty miles on the top of the storm and still it continued, so he decided to drop into the clouds and investigate what was really down there. He pulled back on the throttles and let the speed drop. When he had slowed to 700 knots he started down into the cloud mass.
At sixty-thousand feet he was starting to get into wispy clouds, and the computer indicated that it was detecting volcanic ash. He was sure that there were no volcanoes in this area so the readings were confusing.
He continued down and at fifty-thousand the clouds were getting thicker so he could only see half a mile or so. He decided to try to get below the clouds, if possible. He was still getting the readings of large mountains, but they had dropped behind him.
*
At just under twenty-thousand he finally broke out of the heavy clouds. He immediately turned ninety degrees to the right and flew directly south, loosing altitude. Down below, the ground was covered with vegetation and dotted with lakes. A few roads and some dwellings also showed. He looked to the West, back in the direction he had come from, but everything was obscured by mist and rain. The computer still insisted there was a mountain range in there.
He turned ninety degrees to the right again and headed back west to investigate. Tim continued to fly west at about twelve-thousand, and was hitting intermittent rain at first, but after about three minutes the rain had gotten heavy enough to blot out the ground. He dropped the nose more and headed lower. At six-thousand the ground reappeared, but the rain had changed to sleet. He could see nothing ahead, but the sensors still detected mountains.
Directly ahead, the elevation of a peak of the ghost range, read ten-thousand, six-hundred and twenty-one feet. He went back to the old topo map and the elevation on those coordinates was supposed to be o
nly one-thousand and fifty.
This is crazy.
He switched back to the long range sensor and it said the peak was indeed ten-thousand-six-twenty-two. He stared intently through the cockpit, but the heavy weather was still obscuring everything. He looked back at the sensor hologram to get an exact fix on this thing out there. It was eighty-one miles straight ahead and was ten-thousand-six-twenty-four feet high. Then it dawned on him, it was growing as he approached it. No wonder it isn’t on the old maps, it is brand new.
He continued to drop his speed and altitude and at four-thousand he could see the ground clearly. He was traveling at 450 knots and the ground was slipping by steadily. A city was twenty-eight miles ahead, and the top of the peak was seventeen miles beyond to the West. The elevation of the land he was flying over was increasing, according to the instruments on the plane. The old maps said it was supposed to be decreasing. Below, on the ground, the surface was cracked and buckled and most of the structures were flattened. He could see people milling around down below and some looked up and watched him as he passed overhead.
In the distance he could see a monstrous black wall of rock protruding from the former level plains and stretching up into the clouds. Rivulets of bright red lava ran down from random locations on the wall, and steam rose from everywhere, boiling up to add to the clouds. A short way west of the city the old ground ended as a jagged upraised lip. A small band of the collapsed lip bordered the old surface and the new hot rock from the Earth’s innards. Mr. V had explained earlier that in some places the pieces of the Earth’s crust were being pushed together, forcing it to buckle upwards. That was what was clearly happening here on the central plains.
He continued west, straight toward the mountains until he was within a couple miles of the new formation, then turned to the left ninety degrees and flew south, paralleling the new mountain range. Tim checked the mountain he had been watching for some time and the elevation had increased to ten-thousand-seven-hundred and one. His speed had dropped to 420 knots and his altitude was at thirty-five-hundred feet.