Last Flight For Craggy

by Gary Weston

  'On its own, I agree, Sir. Even used as an extreme heat shield it's stable. But they've found when it mixes with something else, it's six times more powerful than equivalent hydrogen isotope weapons.'

  Dillow said, 'Right. Wow. But it hasn't any radioactive properties.'

  'That's the point,' said Breeze. 'It has incredible explosive properties, without any radioactive fall out. They can totally destroy the East cities, without poisoning the land. Then the West can take it over and free their people to grow enough food.'

  Forbes said, 'Jeez. Any idea what they intend to mix the marsillium with?'

  'Hydrogen isotope. That's not the weapon by itself, but a relatively small amount of the isotope in combination with the marsillium, when ignited with a small nuclear trigger, takes the marsillium beyond its equilibrium, at which point it becomes unstable and...boom. Big time.'

  'Stay right here, Breezy. Take a seat,' said Forbes, before putting out an urgent call to Stella. They waited an anxious eleven minutes for her to get to the office. Forbes told her to sit before continuing.

  'Is there a problem with the ship, Sir?'

  'Not that we're aware of, Stella,' Forbes assured her. 'But we do have a problem. The West have found a way of turning marsillium into a weapon. We have to stop them. Can we get our ship back here, before it lands?'

  Forbes, Dillow and Breeze were holding their collective breath.

  'Any idea where the ship is at the moment? Still the other side of Earth?'

  'Yes,' said Dillow. 'Is that a problem?'

  'One of many. It isn't a question of distance, but anything obstructing the signal, like a planet, will make controlling it from here impossible.'

  Forbes said, 'By my reckoning, it should be coming from behind Earth in about eighty minutes. If you got a signal, can you change the course of the ship and get it back here?'

  'In theory. We had limited success in our trials overriding the programmed commands. It was something we were going to sort out once the ship had returned. The ship performed at one hundred percent going through the original programming.'

  'But we have a shot at it?' asked Forbes, hopefully.

  'During the simulated trials there were instances when we just sent the ship spinning out of control. Because the ship is getting closer to the Earth's gravitational pull, any slight deviation from the programmed course, could send it crashing into the Earth.'

  'Damn it,' snapped Forbes, slapping his desk with the palm of his hand. 'I want that ship back here, and in one piece.'

  Dillow asked, 'Stella. Is there any other way?'

  'Well...' said, Stella, 'No. Not possible.'

  'Stella?' Dillow insisted.

  'The ship has a manual override. Hence the seat. But we would have to have a pilot sitting in it.'

  'Crap!' said Forbes.

  Breeze chipped in. 'Sir. We have a fast freighter ready to go. Perhaps we could catch the ship with it. Take it over.'

  'The Mars run freighter?' said Forbes.

  Dillow said, 'Wait a minute. That's my daughter's ship.'

  'Then we need to talk to your daughter,' said Forbes.

  Chapter 32

  'All set?'

  'Yes, Captain Dillow.' said Rocky Ramshorn. Sitting in the freighter was a whole lot different to the simulator. At least the controls were the ones he was familiar with.

  'Rocky. This will be a very long flight if you keep calling me Captain Dillow. It's kinda traditional just to use last names. Dillow, Ramshorn.'

  'I...I prefer Rocky.'

  'I can see how you would. Dillow, Rocky. Or Ramshorn if you piss me off. Right. Time to get this bird over to the cradle for the pods.'

  Dillow's hands waved mysteriously over the non touch controls. There was the slightest kick as the the plasma thrusters fired up. Smoothly and silently, the ship lifted off the grey moon dust. It was a short trip to the pad in front of the cradle. Angus guided her to the exact spot. The ramp swung out and Dillow and Ramshorn walked down it to meet Angus.

  'You guys ready to do this?' said Angus. He was a formidable looking man in his forties. He had been born on Earth in Scotland, and although he had left Earth when he was seven, he proudly lived up to a stereotype of what he imagined a Scotsman should be like. His red hair was wild and unkempt, and somewhere under a dense undergrowth of hair, was a face. His accent was so heavily cultivated only his father could understand him completely. Everyone else took their best guess at anything he said.

  Dillow said, 'Ready as you are.'

  'Right. We have four pods. We have better locks now, but you still need to control them. As soon as the last pod is in place, you can go.'

  'Okay.'

  'Give me ten minutes to get in the grabber cab and we'll get going.'

  'Thanks, Angus. See you in seven months time. '

  They were about to go back up the ramp when a voice called out.

  'Hey. Dillow. You wouldn't go off to Mars without saying goodbye, would you?'

  'Craggy. You came to see me off?'

  'Of course. Just wanted to wish you all the best. I'd have been here sooner, but I had my arm stuck down a bloody toilet S bend.'

  'Glad we didn't shake hands.'

  'Who is this?'

  'Rocky Ramshorn. My copilot.'

  'Damn. They're getting younger by the day. So, you're off to Mars, son?'

  'Yes. Hey. You're the one who did all that space walking, to save the pods.'

  'And now I'm a glorified toilet cleaner. Let that be a lesson to you.'

  'Craggy. We really have to go.'

  'Take her away, Dillow.'

  'Hold your fire,' said Forbes, running towards them.

  'Commander Forbes. Dad. Come to wave me off?'

  'Not exactly, Fawn,' said Commander Dillow. 'We got big trouble.'

  'Dad. I'm about to go to Mars.'

  'Listen, Fawn. The ship going to Earth. We have to stop it.'

  'Are you serious?'

  Forbes said, 'Never more serious. The West have found a way to turn marsillium into a terrible weapon. They plan to eliminate the East.'

  'My God. But what am I supposed to do about it?'

  Forbes explained, 'The ship has a manual override. We need to put a pilot in it to take control of the ship.'

  'Come on, Fawn,' said Lance Dillow. 'We have to go.'

  'We?'

  'I'm coming with you.'

  'Are you a pilot now, Dad?'

  'Well, no.'

  'Sorry, Dad. You're not much use to me, then.'

  'I'm a pilot,' said Rocky.

  'Maybe in a few years,' said Fawn. 'I need a real pilot for this job.'

  Forbes said, 'Fawn. We are out of time. We have to go after that ship.'

  'Err, excuse me. I'm a real pilot.'

  'Craggy!' they all shouted at once.

  Cragg shrugged. 'I can always go clean more toilets if you want?'

  Fawn said, 'Come on, Craggy. Let's go catch a ship.'

  Chapter 33

  'Hey. Anybody want these pods?'

  'Sorry, Angus,' said Fawn Dillow. 'Been a change of plan. See you when I get back.'

  Angus watched the blue plasma drives head off towards the Earth. 'Hey, Dillow. Mars is the other way. Women. No damned sense of direction.'

  On the ship, Dillow was entering the revised coordinates into the computer. 'Cutting it fine. We have nine and a half hours to catch that ship, then it goes into Earth's atmosphere.'

  'Do you have a plan?' asked Cragg.

  Dillow said, 'Catch up with the ship, then one of us has to get on board, take over the manual controls and fly it back to the Moon.'

  'Sounds easy when you put it like that.'

  'Can I help?' asked Rocky.

  'Can you cook?' asked Cragg.

  'Why do I keep getting asked that?'

  'Because we are hungry,' said Dillow. 'See what you can rustle up.'

  'Ninety two average and I get to cook,' mumbled Rocky, shuffling away to the galley.

  'Wh
at's up with the kid?' asked Cragg.

  Dillow said, 'Wants to be a pilot.'

  'How old is he, twelve?'

  'Nearly twenty. I think he's started shaving. Stella. Calling Stella.'

  'I'm here.'

  'Stella. We're full bore here. Can we cut anything off the time?'

  'Big Bird is on a clockwise orbit around the Earth. Take an anticlockwise path and that'll be the shortest distance.'

  'I'll put it up on the screen. Don't go away, Stella.'

  The massive screen had a clear shot of the Earth. No sign of the ship.

  'Okay. We are here, our target should be coming out there. That gives us the distance, factor in our top speed, factor in the target's speed, and I calculate the time as being eight hours, forty two minutes, eighteen seconds. Stella?'

  'I have the same numbers. We now have eight hours, fifty six minutes before the ship starts its entry into Earth's orbit.'

  Cragg shared a look with Dillow and said, 'It wouldn't be any fun if it were too easy.'

  Dillow said, 'I got just one question?'

  'Yeah?'

  'Where's that damn food?'

  Chapter 34

  The West didn't have everything all their own way. The East knew they had a lot to protect, and their own surveillance had also picked up on their enemies plans. They were not the types to roll over and let the West have the upper hand for too long. Attacking the West was considered, and promptly dismissed.

  The planet was hanging by a frayed thread so kicking it while it was down was self defeating. The immediate problem was a dirty great ship from the Moon with a payload the West intended to transform into a weapon powerful enough to destroy half the planet. The Eastern half.

  Tim Lin Lee, Principal of the East, drove the vehicle along what had once been an excellent highway, now barely passable with the burnt out wrecks liberally scattered along it. This was one area where jungle had defied the odds and not only survived, but flourished; roots of deformed trees breaking up the tar-seal in places, adding to the hazardous journey. Tim Lin Lee, had taken over the job as the Principal of the East, inherited from his late father. He had been passed a poison chalice, and was stuck with it.

  He had tried to mend bridges with the West; to salvage what they could between them. The West didn't even trust themselves, so there was no chance of any lasting peace with the East. Resigned to that, the East under his leadership, made what progress they could. Their surveillance of Westmont had revealed the latest threat from the West and he was determined to thwart it.

  So as not to set off alarm bells in the paranoid Westmont politicians, Lee drove himself, unescorted, towards the missile base, hidden in a valley at the foot of a range of mountains. Around him, he sensed that eyes were watching him, tribes that thought their best chance of survival was to keep away from the main centres, existing any way they could. It wouldn't pay to breakdown here.

  Eventually, he reached the turn-off to the rough trail that led to the missile base. A large woman in a patched up military uniform, her boots held together with tape, stood to attention as Lee parked, and saluted. Lee got out of the vehicle and returned the salute.

  'At ease, Commandant Tzu. I have something for you.'

  From the rear seat of the vehicle, he picked up a parcel and handed it to Tzu. Tzu opened it, and found the new uniform and boots. Boots! She was close to tears.

  'All new. Your size?'

  'My size. Thank you, Principal Lee.'

  'You are most welcome.'

  Tzu relaxed, ready to give the Principal of the East the guided tour. Behind her, a highly polished missile stood ready for action. Lee took off his cap and ran a handkerchief over his bald head and pointed at the missile.

  'Just how old is that thing?'

  'Less than forty years old,' said Military Missile Commandant Din Tee Tzu, proudly. 'Your father commissioned it.' She took her position seriously and with a zero budget, ancient equipment, unqualified personnel, performed minor miracles on a daily basis.

  'How many missiles do we have?'

  'You're looking at it.'

  Lee said, 'Right,' hiding his disappointment. 'Dare I ask, will it go?'

  'Will it go? Will it go?'

  'Will it go?'

  'It will go.'

  'But,' said Tim Lin Lee. 'Can we control where it goes?'

  'It is heat seeking. Follow me, Sir,' said Tzu.

  It was a reinforced concrete bunker she led him into which had a bank of computers with two school children playing some old three dimensional holographic game, squealing as wart infested gremlins decapitated each other. Tzu turned their game off which got howls of teenage protestations.

  'And these children are...?' Lee asked.

  'Mine. Amy and Danny.'

  Lee looked around the bunker. 'Where are the technicians?'

  'Here. Amy and Danny.'

  Lee frowned at Tzu. 'Where are the real technicians?'

  With a waggle of her finger, she called Lee outside. 'Sir. I have had no technicians for three years. They died of the plague.'

  Lee, singularly unimpressed, folded his arms and demanded, 'Why wasn't I informed?'

  'I did inform you. Three years ago. Two years ago, one year ago, six months ago, last week...'

  'I get the message.'

  'Apparently not.'

  'So. Who fires the missile?'

  Tzu pointed at the bunker. 'My kids. Very good on computers.'

  Lee checked the time. 'We have...seven hours and forty three minutes. We need to destroy that ship before the West destroys us. All of us.'

  'Let's ask the kids. Be nice.'

  Lee sighed and shook his head, forced a smile and followed Tzu back in the bunker.

  'Amy. Danny. This nice man is the Principal. He wants...Amy. Get rid of the gum, please. Thank you. Principal Lee wants you to shoot down that big ship up there.'

  Amy and Danny looked at each other, then at Lee. 'Do we get paid?' asked Amy.

  'Paid? Paid? I am Prin...'

  'Principal Lee,' said Danny. 'Yeah. Got that. I like your hat.'

  'Give him your hat,' whispered Tzu.

  Lee went puce. 'What?'

  'Give him your damn hat. And smile.'

  Lee smiled and graciously handed the boy his hat. Danny put it on, but backwards. Amy held her hand out.

  Lee looked at Tzu and gestured “what now?”

  'Amy?'

  'I like his watch.'

  'Give her your watch.'

  'Excuse me?' gasped Lee. 'This watch belonged to my great grandfather.'

  'Give her the damn watch.'

  Lee took off his precious gold watch, the one promised to his own son, and gave it to Amy.

  'Now. Will you shoot the damn ship?'

  Both kids shrugged.

  'Please?'

  'Yeah, okay.'

  Lee bowed. 'Thank you. Good luck.'

  The kids weren't listening. They were busy arguing over who was to launch the missile.

  'I gotta go,' said Lee.

  'Sir. You should stay in the bunker.'

  'No, no and no.'

  Lee stormed off to the car he had driven there himself, unescorted, his heart now sinking, knowing the future of the planet rested in the sticky hands of two insolent teenagers. Fifty yards from the car, he heard a disturbing rumbling sound. A glance over his shoulder told him the missile was about to launch. Disturbing clouds of smoke bellowed from the bottom of it followed by snaking flames.

  He started running. FAST! He was trying to outrun flames, not keen on being flambéed, racing past the car with the flames in hot pursuit, and he dived into the surrounding bushes head first. The car exploded flying fifteen feet into the air, and Lee, his hair full of leaves and twigs, poked his head above the undergrowth. The missile was roaring away into the sky.

  Lee spat out a mouthful of dirt. 'Shit!'

  Chapter 35

  'Not a bad cook, young Rocky,' said Cragg, wiping his chin.

  'Very nicely cook
ed fish,' said Dillow.

  'Thanks,' said Rocky. 'How much longer until we reach the ship?'

  'Three hours, seventeen minutes,' said Cragg.

  Rocky said, 'So shouldn't we be making plans?'

  'Plans?' said Cragg. 'Don't need one. We get close as we can to the ship, I go over, go inside, take over the ship, and fly her to the Moon.'

  'You fly the ship back?' gasped Rocky, shocked.

  'Of course I do. I mean, Dillow here, has to fly this one, so I have to fly the other one. Hardly rocket science. Well, actually, I suppose it is rocket science.'

  'Sir. With respect, I should fly the other ship to the Moon.'

  Cragg sighed. 'Rocky, Rocky, Rocky. Don't take offence, but this is a job for an experienced pilot.'

  'And you, Sir, please don't take offence, but haven't you been retired as a pilot?'

  Dillow said, 'He does have a point, Craggy.'

  'He most certainly does not. Rocky. Have you actually ever flown a ship?'

  'Well, I did score a ninety two average in the simulator.'

  'Sim...bloody simulator? That is not a damn ship.'

  'But I do have a pilots licence, unlike you.'

  'Provisional licence,' Dillow reminded him. 'You only get your full tickets if I sign you off.'

  Rocky said, 'I'd say a provisional licence trumps no licence at all.'

  'He does have a point, Craggy.'

  'He does not have a point. I've been piloting ships for more than fifty years.'

  'Exactly,' said Rocky. 'That ship is a brand new, state of the art ship. I've been trained in all its technology, where as...'

  'I used to fly coal fired ships I suppose. Steered by the stars, no doubt. Put my hand out the window to tell the wind direction.'

  Dillow snapped, 'Craggy...'

  Cragg continued unabated. 'And what about space walks? How many of those have you done?'

  'Five.'

  'Actually in space?'

  'Well, not actually in space.'

  Cragg stood up and glowered at Rocky. 'Then you have never walked in space.'

  'Oi, you two,' snapped Dillow. 'Pull your heads in or I'll have you both space walking, but without safety lines.'