Mr. Korzybski looked skeptically at Elian and after a moment, asked, “Lieutenant, how did you obtain those recordings? I mean, how many hands did they go through before you obtained them?” Elian looked at Mr. Korzybski carefully, understanding what was not being said, and replied, “Sir, the recordings on this pad, with the exception of a handful, were obtained directly. That is to say, this exact pad contains the original recordings. Those exceptions I mentioned were due to the fact that Lieutenant Padilla replaced his original pad with this one. He downloaded those recordings directly to this pad.”
Mr. Korzybski looked at Elian as if he was seeing him for the first time. He asked, carefully, “Were you two fighter pilots?” Elian nodded his head without speaking. Mr. Korzybski said, “You two are the ones from the Essex, the ones who....” He didn’t finish his question. He scuffled his feet awkwardly before finally saying, “I have read everything I could get my hands on about the bug encounter, and the battles which followed. I never paid much attention to names; I was looking for information on our fighters, how they stacked up against the bug fighters, and how we could improve upon them. I am greatly sorry for the loss of your ship, and all your comrades. I did not realize that you two... Well, enough. Yes, we will strip out the mag systems from the prototype. I can have several Anodyne systems shuttled in by tomorrow morning. I can get them on spec. I will endeavor to have the prototype in flying condition by.... noon on the day after. Can you stay for that long?”
Elian glanced at me but of course he knew. He said, “Yes sir, we can stay. I deeply appreciate your sentiment. We lost all of our friends when we lost the Essex, and we will never forget them. We intend to ensure that our enemies come to regret their actions.”
Mr. Korzybski turned to one member of a large crowd of anxious engineer types and said, looking at them, “Two days. Isn’t that right?” They looked horrified. He stared at them and said, “I can change my mind; I can give you less time. Get the lead out. Forty-seven hours from now you are going to test the Kestrel. Not one minute less.”
We spent the afternoon watching as a veritable crowd of white uniformed engineers ripped open the skin of the new bird and waded into the maze of cabling and control runs. I asked the head engineer, “Sir, in the production version, will fleet personnel have the same mass of cabling to remove before they can replace a bottle?” The engineer looked at me with a certain amount of disdain and said, “No son, you will be able to remove an entire mag bottle with capacitors in as little as four hours in the production version.”
Elian frowned and said, “In the Dash 6 I flew, my fleet maintenance technicians removed and replaced a capacitor in fifteen minutes. We were on the ship for no more than twenty five minutes, maximum.”
The engineer looked at me and said, still a little disdainful, “Yes, but that was the Dash 6 and this is the Kestrel. It has two complete systems and is far more complex.”
I asked, “Sir, if you were a pilot, your carrier was under attack, and your Kestrel required maintenance, would you be happy with a minimum four hour turnaround, using two complete crews, as you are doing here?” The engineer flushed and said very sharply, “You are just a pilot, what do you know of the work that goes into a design as sophisticated as this?”
I nodded my head and said, “Yes sir, you are correct, I am merely one of the pilots who will be tasked with flying the Kestrel. May I ask, sir, once fleet takes possession of this ship, do you think that there will be any bugs to work out, any niggling details that may cause the pilot or navigator problems when the ship enters service? Fighting bugs?” By now, the engineer was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and without answering walked away.
We had a nice lunch later that afternoon and the company offered to put us up for the night in a good hotel not far from the plant. Elian said, “Sir, we are accustomed to tight quarters. We would prefer to remain here where we can watch the progress. If we get tired we can sleep on cots, or pretty much anywhere.”
Mr. Korzybski was talking to one of his engineers and overheard our conversation. He turned to us and said, “I can see why Admiral Lee sent you two. You do not quit until the enemy is defeated, whether that enemy is shooting at you, or sitting on a hanger floor.” Elian nodded his head and said, “That is correct sir. We are alive because Robert does not quit, ever, until he turns certain defeat into victory. I am handy in case he forgets to be at least a little difficult, and preferably, downright obstinate.”
That evening Mr. Korzybski received back a reply from Admiral Lee. He had commed the admiral, asking for information on Robert and Elian. In his reply – Jupiter was too distant to permit a live conversation - Admiral Lee spoke at length without having to refer to anything other than his own memory. “Sir, Lieutenants Padilla and Turner are extraordinary officers. They shot down three bug fighters in the early hours of the first series of attacks, when over half of the Dash 6’s were destroyed, for the loss of barely a handful of bugs, most of which were destroyed by our destroyers. Allow me, please to give you a little background. Lt. Padilla took the academy exam after graduating from high school. His family was dead set against this and he therefore did it in secret. He badly failed the math portions of that exam, but the next year he returned and did better, although he still failed. On his third try, he passed. Now, understand that the Academy accepts perhaps only twenty percent of those who pass the exam. Mr. Padilla barely qualified, and would ordinarily still have been passed over. However, he came to the attention of a fleet recruiting officer who apparently spoke to him at length. That officer made a bargain with Lt. Padilla. He gave the young man a series of assignments and told him that if he successfully passed those courses, he would find him a place in the next class. I went to the trouble of researching fleet records, and I was not able to find one single instance where an individual was treated thusly. That is, until I extended my search back two hundred years. I was able to locate another instance similar to this, and that agreement allowed a young man to enter the fleet when ordinarily he would not have been able. He went on to become one of the most highly decorated admirals in fleet history. I believe, sir, that Lt. Padilla is that kind of officer. For that matter, so is Lt. Turner who sailed through the entrance exams and who passed all his subsequent courses with high honors. They both have the makings of flag officers, and they represent the salvation of the fleet that I am so proud and honored to serve. I trust them to make the proper decisions, but please comm me if you have any further questions.”
The admiral’s tone of voice was courteous and polite, although he had never met or spoken with Mr. Korzybski. The very fact that he was being asked these questions told him all he needed to know.
Mr. Korzybski’s company was relatively new, having purchased an existing firm just two years earlier, and this contract to build a fighter was its first large military contract. His designers had produced an excellent ship and it would greatly increase fleet’s ability to wage war, once Fleet accepted it. Unfortunately Mr. Korzybski’s relatively inexperienced company was finding more problems than it had expected. Most of these problems were found inside suits, which proved to be elusive to resolve.
After he finished listening to the admiral’s recording, he looked at two flat pics on his desk. One was of him as a young man, in the uniform of a fleet technician. The second one was of his oldest son, who wore the very same uniform as Robert and Elian.
He got up and walked through the empty and dark offices of his sparkling clean plant and passed through security to enter the hanger where the Kestrel was being worked on.
Late the next morning two lumbering cargo shuttles landed on the landing pad. Heavy equipment was waiting for them and before the dust settled they began moving in to unload a number of heavy, sealed crates. Inside of an hour, those crates were on the floor near the Kestrel, whose power systems had been removed.
Workers began removing mag bottles and capacitors from their containers. They attached instrumentation to them to ensure that they were in
working condition and even before those technicians finished others were attaching lifting cables to them.
Within six hours, they had manufactured new fittings to attach them to the ship. By sundown, the systems were physically installed. The new units had different attachment points for power and control runs, and this required new cabling, much of which had been constructed prior to the installation of the bottles. They were also physically larger, but the original design allowed for the repositioning of some additional controls, which in turn provided just enough space for the new equipment.
As the sky darkened they began running connectivity tests. Problems were discovered and dealt with. At eleven PM, they powered up the mag systems, first one, then the other. Again, problems were found and solved.
At two AM they initiated a power up sequence, which aborted within minutes, generating some fairly loud exclamations. By dawn, they had power and were solving issues with sensors, communications and navigation.
At nine AM they towed the craft out to the landing pad that had been cleared of all other craft, onlookers and possibly weeds. Their test pilot was given a release and powered up the anti gravity system. The Kestrel shivered a moment before it lifted up a meter. The pilot held it there while dozens of active and passive sensors and test equipment made measurements and tested systems.
This sequence was repeated several times before the pilot was authorized to bring the ship back down. Technicians hurriedly hooked up four heavy cables to attachment points on the undercarriage. It lifted until the cables became taut. The pilot gradually applied power to the system. The cables stretched as the ship tried to ascend. The pilot held it at a small but significant level of power for ten minutes while more tests were conducted on the power systems.
Finally satisfied, the test pilot landed the craft and technicians unhooked the cables and dragged them away from the ship. With a happy salute the pilot lifted the ship up into the early afternoon sunlight. It rose up at an angle – they didn’t want the ship to fall back down on the plant if it lost power – and disappeared into the springtime clouds, escorted by two factory shuttles.
Later that afternoon Robert and Elian met with Mr. Korzybski in his office. As soon as they were seated he said, “Your solution to our problem seems to have worked out. We were able to exceed the ships fastest run at a seventy seven percent power level. As you indicated, it didn’t suffer any problems. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your input, or how terribly surprised and delighted I am that you men were able to discover this.” He was grinning at the end.
I said, “Thank you sir. Please tell your crews, all the people who have worked so hard on this project that we deeply appreciate what they have done. Now, what can you tell us about its energy weapons systems?”
Mr. Korzybski smiled wryly and said, “We have a little work yet to do, but we should have all its systems operational again within two days, barring unforeseen difficulties.
Elian said, “Admiral Lee informed us that if it could be made operational in time he wants us to transport it by destroyer to rendezvous with our two Dresdens. We have been instructed to wring it out, although not near the bugs. As soon as we’ve tested it, we’ll return it via the same destroyer to you, along with all our test numbers, complaints, wish lists and so on. He asked us to tell you that while he understands that this is far outside normal procedures for the acquisition of a new type of craft, the exigencies of the war we are waging require unusual methods. ”
Mr. Korzybski said, “Unusual is hardly the term I’d use. I’m going to miss having you two around. You have managed to completely upset this plant, but the results have certainly been worth it. How soon do you need it?
I said, “We’ll need twenty four hours advance notice, but the sooner the better.” Mr. Korzybski rose to his feet and with a big smile held out his hand. We shook and minutes later were on a company shuttle to the local regional transportation terminal. We each had a small package, personally handed to us by Mr. Korzybski. He asked us to not open them until we were on board our own ships, and with an understanding grin he added that they were gifts of little intrinsic value.
We caught a shuttle from Munich up to a waiting courier, which had been ordered by Admiral Lee to stand by for our arrival. The pilot had apparently expected a couple of high ranking officers, judging by the surprised look on his face when he first laid eyes on his two very junior hitch hikers. As soon as we boarded the tiny ship, the pilot, irritated at being delayed by two low ranking lieutenants, lifted out of orbit and accelerated towards Jupiter.
En route I asked the pilot, “How many G’s can this pull?” The pilot said, “It is capable of eighteen G’s. Right now, we’re pulling sixteen. I’m trying to make up the time I lost waiting for you two. You’re the first passengers I’ve ever been ordered to take, and I’ve been on this run for six months. What’s the rush?” Elian answered, “Admiral Lee is an impatient man, lieutenant, very impatient.” The answer was deliberately vague but the pilot knew enough not to press.
The courier ship was even more uncomfortable than the destroyer, but the discomfort lasted for less time.
We blazed into Jupiter orbit very hot, and the pilot, who may have been showing off to us, had to push his system up past the Fleet safety limits to make the insertion, which fact he hoped we were not aware of. Elian winced when he heard the capacitors scream in protest. This was our second opportunity to be a passenger in a ship in which the pilot was showing off his skills. Both of us had experienced enough near death experiences that we would have preferred a slower and more leisurely journey, one where we lived another day.
He made one orbit around the planet, continuing to bleed of excessive velocity and did a long and precise deceleration to transfer over to the moon, where he dropped straight down toward the base. Elian said, quietly, “Robert, this guy belongs in a fighter, not this mobile post office. Why don’t we talk to him? He might like the Kestrel.”
I grinned and nodded my head. After the tiny craft settled onto a small landing pad, we struggled in the low gravity to get our small flight bags through the narrow passageway. As we passed the cramped cockpit I waved at the pilot and Elian, as requested, passed some contact information to the courier pilot’s pad.
We exited the ship through a tube and walked quickly to catch a people mover. We went straight to the admiral’s office, not knowing, but assuming that the admiral would probably be there. It was very late in the base day, 2200, but we were correct – the admiral was in his office, talking to three base engineers. Loudly.
We waited outside the office for several minutes. The admiral seemed content to continue to vent some frustration on the three unfortunates, but it ended finally. The inner door opened and three men exited. Surprisingly, they didn’t look like they had just lost several layers of skin.
The engineers - civilians in this case - stopped for a moment when they spotted the two of us, and introduced themselves. The oldest – he had what looked like a crown of white hair around this scalp, asked, “Are you the two the admiral’s been waiting up for?” I nodded, a little uncertainly, and he continued, “Good, he’s about ready to strangle someone, and we’re too expensive. I hope you have good news for him, he hasn’t heard or seen much of that lately.” He smiled and waved his companions ahead of him out of the office.
Elian knocked on the hatch and we were given permission to enter. The admiral stood up and smiled, but we could see that he was very tired. He had circles underneath his circles, and his eyes looked bloodshot.
He waved us to a chair and resumed his own. Even before we were settled he asked, “Well, tell me we have a fighter coming soon.” We both shrugged, looking at each other, and Elian said, “Sir, we should have the prototype available for delivery within one or two days. Merkovich Co. will transport it up to earth orbit and transfer it to a destroyer – we told him we’d need twenty-four hours notice. It looks pretty good to us sir. They did have a problem or two, but they have been solved an
d it appears that they’ll meet all the benchmarks for acceleration and endurance, perhaps a bit more even.”
The admiral gusted a smile, and smacked the arm of his chair. He said, “How does she look?” I said, “Beautiful, sir. We had a number of positive conversations with Mr. Korzybski, he’s the new operating head of the company, and he impressed us both as trying as hard as possible to get us the ship we ordered. I have a good feeling about this sir.”
The admiral actually knew more about the results of the visit than he let on, but he was very tired, right down to his bones from endless hours of frustration. He wanted to hear some good news. We badly wanted to make the admiral happy, so we passed over the bumpy first hour of the visit and talked instead about how the company was doing everything possible to produce a ship the fleet needed so badly.
Admiral Lee had come to care deeply for the two young men sitting in front of him, and that evening, as he listened to them describe the ship and the company making it, he could see that they were glossing over their own input, or not even mentioning it in fact, which made him care even more deeply.
Hawk Seven (Flight of the Hawk) Page 64
