Soon Charles was flying his replica Spitfire with complete confidence. Take-offs and landings were now familiar and trouble-free. He regularly flew the aircraft through a range of aerobatic routines and had structured and implemented an Immelmann turn based on the original manoeuvre. In this, Charles first put the replica Spitfire into a dive and then it turned and climbed vertically, and as the aircraft began to stall at the top of its ascent, he applied full rudder to yaw the Spitfire around into a nose down position, where it made another high speed dive followed by a loop. This manoeuvre tested Charles’s ability to control the aircraft, and he enjoyed the challenge. The little Spitfire had enough power to fly vertically at high speed, stalling only when Charles partially throttled back the motor.
Sam thought the aerobatic manoeuvres were exhilarating to watch. Every time he saw Charles putting the model through its paces, he visualized himself in the cockpit and grew impatient with his team, until they threatened to ban him from the garage and hangar. However, they also were enthusiastic and worked tirelessly to complete the first of the five Rat Air Force aircraft. Their enthusiasm was driven both by watching Charles and also by their knowledge of the undeclared state of war between New Rats and New Cats.
At last the Rat production team had a completed Spitfire in the hangar. This model varied from the design of the Spitfire which Charles had built. The cockpit was large enough for an adult Rat, especially one Sam’s size, and its controls emulated those of the sports aircraft. He was now fully grown, although shorter than most Rats. He was nearly thirty inches high and was solid muscle, weighing thirty-five pounds.
The motor was significantly more powerful than the one Charles had installed, in part to compensate for the additional weight of its pilot. The colour scheme was also different. The team had added grey camouflage patterns on the upper structure and on the topside of the wings, although they had painted the bottom of the fuselage and underneath the wings with the same azure blue used by Charles on his model.
Cedric 33rd arranged a party to celebrate the successes of Charles, and Sam and Sam’s team. The hangar was crowded. Sam had now recruited two trainee intakes, and they were attending with instructors from the flying school. All the members of the aircraft production team were present, as well as every Rat who had worked on any aspect of the aircraft production process. Of course, as it was Saturday afternoon, Freddie was also in attendance, with his Uncle Charles, who was guest of honour.
Freddie had never seen so many Rats in uniform. Sam wore a blue jacket and blue trousers, both with gold trim as befitting his role as founder of the RAF; and all Rats involved with the aircraft also wore blue uniforms. Freddie counted at least two hundred of the green uniformed Royal Guards outside the hangar plus many more inside; and there was, he estimated, over a hundred of Sam’s own black-uniformed regiment. The guards carried weapons and by all appearances, knew how to use them. This was a far heavier Rat military presence than he had previously observed.
“Sam, why so many Guards?” he asked quietly.
Sam was silent for a moment. “Cats. They really are pushing us. We have another three hundred Rats around the airfield and two hundred guarding your home.”
“It sounds very serious. They’re not interested in peace?”
“No, not as far as we can determine. Some months back our intelligence people thought they’d identified an opportunity, but nothing came of it. The New Cats killed the only Cat we knew, a Cat who thought peace was worth exploring. She was a scout, and we wanted to see if she could convince some of her fellow scouts.”
Freddie was thoughtful for a while. “So your RAF is not just for play, for fun?”
“Of course it is; it’s lots of fun. Yes, it’s also for our defence. Now don’t look so worried, this party is to celebrate our new aircraft. Come on, let’s enjoy the cakes your Mum made.”
Later in the afternoon, Freddie walked around the completed RAF Spitfire replica now displayed in the hangar. As he examined the aircraft he realized not only was it designed to be flown by a live pilot but also it had fittings on each wing for weapons. He thought the underwing fittings were intended to hold small missiles while panels cut into the front of each wing would allow small automatic firearms to be mounted. Sam was indeed serious.
While Freddie was examining the replica Spitfire, Cedric 33rd walked over and stood beside him.
“This last year has seen a remarkable change in Sam,” he said, “and I hope you two will continue your friendship. You’re going to University next year?”
“Yes, sir. I’m still waiting on the results of my finals. I have had two good offers, conditional though, on my results. My main concern’s whether I can get a scholarship. My Mum can’t afford to send me to University without some assistance.”
“I’m sure you won’t have any difficulties. What are you intending to study?”
“Engineering—both aeronautics and space. While I may not be as crazy about flying as Sam, I believe I can make a contribution, particularly in space flight.” Freddie could be surprisingly serious, for his age.
“I shall watch your career with interest.”
“What are you two plotting?” said Sam, joining in the discussion.
“Just talking about my studies,” responded Freddie. “I think I have some tough years ahead. I know I’m very young, and my age will cause some issues when I start University.”
“Not as tough as running my RAF. I can’t delegate it all, you know.”
Sam looked pained when Cedric 33rd and Freddie laughed at him.
~~~
Freddie had packed in readiness for the commencement of his first year at university when Sam arrived with a small escort. He noted the usual shiny black vehicles had been replaced by more military-style vehicles, painted in ugly green and grey camouflage colours. Sam rushed into the house at his usual breakneck speed.
“Freddie, it’s started.”
“Slow down. What’s started?”
“War. New Cats have issued a declaration of war against us on the basis that we’re their natural enemy. They were very insulting; they called us vermin and other names.”
“You and His Highness have been expecting something like this to happen? I assume you’re well prepared?”
“Yes, it was expected. However, Cats have enlisted the help of some people—humans, that is—as well. An MP has announced he’s going to introduce a bill to have Rats outlawed. It won’t get passed, of course, we have too many supporters. But it surprised our spooks, they missed the connection between the MP and the anti-Rat people.”
“You have spies? Who do they spy on?”
“You’d be surprised. We get most of our information from the Institute and from human military sources.”
“What’s the Institute? And how do you get information from military sources?” Freddie was intrigued.
“The Institute’s a research organization run by a good friend of Rats, Dr. Krowe. You should meet him some time—he’s very old, though. And we have contracts for secure disposal of paperwork from most of the English military bases. We also have the contract to manage English government data centres. We’ve tapped into a number of communications satellites, especially those that belonged to the US, as they’re not well protected. However, the old US satellites are all degrading and no new ones have been launched, since they froze their continent. We spy on New Cats, although that’s very dangerous. If they catch any of our spies, they execute them immediately. We spy on Dogs too, though they haven’t evolved very far. They just slobber everywhere. We monitor most embassies, just in case. Even the Shen Embassy, you know, the aliens.”
Freddie was surprised. He just stared at Sam.
“What? You expect us to not build up our own knowledgebase about our enemies?”
Freddie blinked. “I just didn’t realize it would be so extensive. So what’s happening now?”
“We have cordoned off our territories, and our troops are on full alert. As a result, it’ll
be very difficult for anyone to enter parts of the City of London and some adjacent suburbs. These are places which we’ve controlled for years, and which are occupied only by New Rats. We have electronics component and munitions plants, and some pharmaceutical operations as well. We suspect Cats will mount some kind of attack to capture these. We also suspect their human allies want to take over our assets. Most suburbs where humans and Rats live probably won’t see much action, at least not initiated by us. We’ll keep guards here and at the hangar, and at some other places.” He did not mention that when Freddie made his decision about which University he would attend, it was going to be heavily guarded.
Freddie was not alarmed although the seriousness of the situation was starting to penetrate his awareness. “Sam, are you going to fly? Will you need to use the aircraft against the Cats?”
“The RAF is ready, even if we have only five Spitfires. Another five will be available within a week, and a further five, in two or three weeks after that. We have twenty pilots trained ready to fly, including me, with more graduating in the next week or so. Because I set up the RAF, I’m now a member of the Capins, and we currently are defining our strategy.”
“Capins? Who are they?”
“It’s an old name for the Rats who traditionally control the military and support our king. I think the founder of the Capins meant Captains, but he couldn’t say or write the word properly. It was very early in our evolutionary curve. Even though we’re now far more advanced and a lot more structured with our forces, we continued the name—it’s part of our tradition.”
A new door had opened for Freddie, and he was overwhelmed with the questions rushing into his mind. ‘Who—how—what—?”
“I think this is a first,” laughed Sam, interrupting. “I’ve never seen you at a loss for words before.”
“Well, you never had a war before. So how long will this situation last?”
“At least two or three months. We’ll probably maintain a defensive mode, although we may go on the offensive if we can see a way to bring this to an end quickly.”
Freddie and Sam spent the remainder of the afternoon in serious discussion. Freddie was very interested in the New Rat strategies, and in the history of their conflict with the New Cats. Then Sam had to leave for another meeting with the Capins on strategy. Before he left, Freddie made Sam promise to not do anything to endanger himself.
“At least I don’t intend to do anything too silly,” Sam affirmed. “I know the RAF will have a part to play. I’m enjoying flying the Spitfire. It’s a lot more challenging than a sports aircraft, and will prove ideal for us.”
***
Chapter 13
Unbeknownst to Freddie, Cedric 33rd had discussions with his Mum about his ambition to attend university. As a result, Freddie now had a scholarship which covered his fees and accommodation at New Oxford, which had a reputation for the very high quality of its aeronautics and space engineering research programs. Because of his age, Alice was included in the accommodation arrangement, and they now occupied a small but very comfortable apartment just half a mile from the College which Freddie would attend.
In the week prior to his first day of classes, Freddie and his Mum visited the Dean and finalized his course structure. Freddie had committed to a range of aviation subjects, although he had a private plan to commence a second degree in aerospace engineering once he had established himself. Dean Roberts emphasized that the College could make no allowance for Freddie’s age; he would be treated like any student and was expected to participate in most College activities.
“We can exempt your son from most of the sports,” acknowledged the Dean. “We recognize he’s too small and too young to participate against larger and older students. However, he’ll need to substitute other activities; perhaps chess?”
“Can I substitute flying?” Freddie was not interested in chess.
“Why—yes. Although you are a little short for most aircraft.”
“I have over one hundred hours solo in the Avian Super,” volunteered Freddie. “Also, I’ve passed all the examinations for my private license, and I’ve been studying for my commercial.” He did not remind the Dean he had helped his uncle build a scaled replica Spitfire and, as a result, had gained substantial practical experience of composite materials manufacturing, all detailed in his College application.
“Indeed. Well, we have a small aviation fleet which is available for our students. Six gliders, as well as a range of Avian models. You’ll be able to continue your flying with the University. Yes, I think flying will be a good substitution. Very well, I’ll make a note of your selection. We’ll see you here Monday morning. Your first class is at 9 a.m., I believe.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for approving the activities substitution.”
They took their leave of the Dean and spent the remainder of the morning exploring the College grounds and buildings. Alice was most concerned her young son was over-committing himself. She was well aware of his age, something Freddie seemed to ignore.
“Mum, I’ll be all right. I know the other students will be bigger than me, but I can keep up with the course work and assignments. Don’t worry. Let’s go and explore, I know where everything is located here and I want to show you. We can walk to the nearest shopping centre, and you can take me to have a hamburger.”
~~~
It was a month before signs of latent animosity from other students were exposed. Freddie had achieved top marks in his first coursework assignment, and a small group of older students had reacted negatively. They jostled him as they headed to the gym for their sports activities.
“Go back to school,” jeered one. “Come back when you are full-sized.”
“Hey, he’s a rat-lover,” interjected another. “I told you about them.” He grabbed Freddie by his throat and tightened his grip. Freddie struggled, but could not dislodge the larger boy’s hands.
One of the other boys spoke up. “Let’s have a little fun with him. Teach him a real lesson.”
There was a moment of turmoil and chaos and Freddie, sensitive to the waves of aggression from the students around him, struggled to free himself, to no avail. Then, to his surprise, everyone froze, and the boy holding him released his grip. Freddie rubbed his neck and took a deep breath. It was good to breath freely again. He looked around and understood why his assailants were now backing away from him. Five black-uniformed and armed Rats were standing in the corridor, just feet away, silently watching the altercation. Freddie had no idea of how they had appeared so suddenly. He knew the uniform, of course; they were members of Sam’s own regiment.
His potential assailants continued on their way, although Freddie heard further comments as they departed. He turned to the senior officer, a captain.
“Thank you, Captain. I’m not sure whether your intervention was necessary. I don’t think they would—”
“Sir, we have our instructions, both from our Commander and from His Highness—both Highnesses. You’re under our protection.”
“Very well. Again, I thank you.”
The next morning, Freddie was called to the Dean’s office. With some trepidation he knocked on the office door, and a secretary told him to enter. Freddie recognized her. She was one of the students, working part-time for the College.
“I’ve been asked to attend the Dean’s office,” he said.
“Why yes—Freddie, isn’t it? The Dean is free. Please go on in.”
Freddie tapped on the inner door, which was half open. “Sir—”
“Come in, come in,” the Dean urged. “Have a seat. Now let me see—oh, yes.” He selected a file from his desk and opened it. He was silent for a moment while he read the documents inside the folder. “Yes, yes. Jones. Let me see. You are doing very well, Freddie. We—the faculty—are most impressed. We did have concerns—your age, you know. Now there was something else. Yes, a report of bullying.”
“I didn’t make a report—”
“No, no, of course no
t. However, we have cameras everywhere, and from our reviews of the videos it seemed you were almost in serious trouble. We—the faculty, the University—neither condone nor accept that kind of behaviour. The students in question have been asked to leave. No, no, not just because of this. They’d been warned previously about their behaviour, and this was another unacceptable instance. They will not bother you again, on or off campus.”
“Sir, thank you.”
“Yes, yes. Keep up the good work.”
It was his dismissal, and Freddie backed out of the office, frowning as he went. The part-time secretary saw his worried expression.
“They deserved it,” she confirmed. “They assaulted another freshman last week and broke his arm, for no reason at all except he was faster on the track than they were. There were serious reports about their behaviour last year. They’d all been warned. Their behaviour has caught up with them. So don’t think it’s your fault. No one will think you’re to blame.”
“Thank you, I appreciate your help. I’d better go, otherwise I’ll miss my class.”
~~~
The term was almost over and Freddie was feeling reasonably satisfied with his progress. The coursework and assignments had grown increasingly tougher as the weeks passed and he found himself challenged, much to his enjoyment. While it meant less time for activities outside the campus, he continued to apply himself to maintaining his high standard. All his fellow students were very supportive and he was becoming their unofficial mascot.
One afternoon he returned from class and was surprised to see a small convoy of military vehicles parked outside his temporary university home. Anxious, he rushed inside.
“Mum, there are military vehicles parked outside—”
“I know.” She was sitting with Cedric 33rd. “Sam’s Dad has some news for you.”
“Oh. Sir, I didn’t realize it was you.” He dropped his rucksack on the floor with a thump, realizing the expression on Cedric’s face boded ill news. Freddie felt his stomach drop.
Shen Ark: Departure Page 10
