The End of the Beginning

Seong waved William over to one of the dining hall’s many flat screens. William pushed his way into the crowd to reach him. A crowd was around just about every screen in the hall, many abandoning their dinners.

“What’s up, Jeon? I was just heading out to take a shower.”

“I-I thought you might find this in-in-interesting, sir. I know you l-l-l, like ae-ae-aero, flying stuff.”

“I do. Is there a rocket launch or something happening?” William asked, focusing on the television. “Have yet to see one here. I’ll run outside!” Seong pointed to the screen, “No. Better.”

William quickly saw he was right.

“Sixty seconds till release on my mark,” ordered Major Charlie “Crazy” Meyers, pilot of the soaring Phoenix 30.

“Copy, sir,” said his tense copilot.

“Time for this queen to release her workers,” Meyers smiled.

Five thousand feet below was a team of aerospace engineers, test pilots, press, and several top UN and UNIRO officials. Dust swept through the group occasionally. It was like a scene right out of a 1950s military propaganda film showing the experimentation of a new untested aircraft. Together, the group looked up at the sky, waiting anxiously in the middle of the Mojave, as were thousands of UNIRO base personnel watching on a network live stream.

“Is this the first test?” William asked.

“Y-Y-Yes. Phoenix 30 is my favorite.”

“Phoenix 30,” said William, scratching his eyebrow, “which one is that again? Have we gone over that one yet? What does it do?” “Watch, sir.”

“Thirty seconds till release,” announced Meyers.

“Telemetry for each drone reading five by five. Opening bay doors.”

The copilot flipped a switch on the overhead panel. At the rear underbelly of the monstrous 747-8I aircraft, two white doors slid apart. A holding rack, straddling the top of the plane’s gutted interior compartment, activated. Disaster surveillance drones held in place by extendable grappling arms attached to the bottom of this rack began to move down the rack on two guide tracks towards the open doors, similar in look to automated vehicle assembly lines. As the first folded up drone neared the doors it was lowered to within three feet above the opening and placed vertically in a launch position. The drone had a triangular shaped body, which held its single engine. Its inverted V-shaped wings hugged its body, ready to snap open upon release.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“We screw this up,” laughed the copilot nervously, “it’ll put the project back years. And, we’ll be out a job.” “She won’t let us down,” Meyers reassured him. “She’s a work of art. Ten seconds.”

“Who is Meyers?” asked William.

“Best pilot in UNIRO,” a woman behind him said adoringly.

“Why is his call sign Crazy?”

“You’ll see.”

Over the radio, the desert crowd heard the final ten-second countdown. All of them clenched but tried not to show it. The idea of Phoenix 30, the world’s first airborne aircraft carrier essentially, had gone from concept to testing in just over a year, something thought impossible now-a-days.

“Five. Four. Three…”

Meyers looked out the windshield and saw black specs come into view and approach them at almost invisible speeds. Birds.

“Oh shit…” muttered the copilot.

An alarm suddenly started going off as the aircraft jolted slightly. The windowpane directly in front of Meyers splintered as fine shards of glass scattered throughout the cockpit. Both pilots covered their faces instantly. When they regained their composure, they saw that engines one and four were on fire and releasing debris.

“Flight, this is Phoenix 30. We have a fire in our number one and four engines! Fire countermeasures have been activated,” the copilot radioed to the ground. “Suspected bird strike. We are declaring an in air emergenc - ” “No!” stopped Meyers.

“No? What do you mean no?” asked the confused copilot.

“Countermeasures will put the fire out. Shut down the engines; compensate with the other two. We are completing this mission. We get her through this, we get her through anything. Release the drones on my mark. Count down reset at T-minus ten seconds.” “Major are you crazy? We can’t even see out half the windows! Your face is cut and bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” Meyers laughed. “Now, focus. You’re the one with the good window.”

“Yes sir,” the copilot wheezed.

“Phoenix 30, this is Flight! Meyers, what the hell are you doing up there?” called one of the engineers. “Abort the test. Abort it!

The crowds in the dining hall started cheering Meyers as they heard him through the live stream respond to the ground controllers order to abort the test.

“Flight, we can’t do that. I never abort a mission, I finish them.”

Everyone started clapping and roaring as if they were at a concert. Seong shot his fist into the air. William looked around in awe. This was great.

Meyers muted the radio as he began the countdown again. “Okay, hold her steady. Here we go. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six…” The mighty Phoenix’s wings jostled as two smoke trails now spilled from the planes injured engines. But the sixteen drones inside were untouched and ready. Meyers knew his queen could take it.

“…Four. Three. Two. One. Mark.”

The first set of grappling arms released their payload. It fell silently. At a hundred feet below the 747, the drone released its wings and began to level off. Its single jet engine started and the autonomous drone became aware. The grappling arms that once held it folded flat and moved down the rack’s guide tracks, flipping up and over the remaining drones as the rack looped back around, allowing the next drone to be promptly released.

“That cocky son of a bitch,” said Meyer’s commanding officer on the ground. His grin only grew larger as he watched each drone appear from the white underbelly of the plane.

One of the UN officials walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. The subgroup general turned around, putting his binoculars down at his waist.

“Your pilot should be grounded for that, sir,” scolded the official. “He’s insane!”

The subgroup general nodded. “They call him Crazy for a reason.”

“Endangering millions of dollars worth of hardware, putting his crew at risk. That’s our only test plane for this project so far. And what has he done with it? We need to deliver in three months; this project can’t risk being delayed any further by irresponsible acts like that!” “He’s shown the damn thing works, even when crippled,” the subgroup general said coolly, pointing to the sky. “Now the project can move forward twice as fast.” “Oh, so you think we should praise him?” the official asked sarcastically.

“No,” the subgroup general said seriously, “I think we should promote him.”

“Wow,” William exclaimed. “I see the reason behind the name. He was nuts to not abort.”

Seong looked over his shoulder with furrowed brows. “Are you really so d-different, sir? You never aborted over the bridge. Just like Major Meyers just n-n-now, you never gave up. One day people will be cheering you.” William appreciated that. “My days of being crazy are over. It’s not about being crazy on these missions, Lieutenant, it’s about being smart. Crazy is not a good strategy. Over that bridge, I was crazy enough to push something I shouldn’t have. I should have pushed sense, just as that major probably should have in that test.” “That may be, Captain,” Seong stated, “but your eyes disagree w-w-with you.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes. I saw their gaze while th-they watched the test. They still crave for boldness. They still want to push. They want th-th-the Emerson the w-world remembers.” William sighed. “That’s what frightens me,” he said quietly, under his breath.