by Laer Carroll
The students were dividing themselves into four roughly equal lines to head for the four ladders which had been moved to the side of the vehicle. Sasha led the way into the most forward line so she could get a better view of the front.
The needle nose was not as sharp as it seemed at first glance. It end in a rounded tip. Underneath it a wide smiling (or snarling) air intake gaped. Farther back on each side there was another intake which also curved around the fuselage, which would appear a flattened oval from the front or rear. Presumable there was a matching side intake on the opposite side.
Atop the nose of the craft sat a severely raked canopy made of a top window and several side windows.
Standing on the concrete near the ladder was Colonel Storm Cloud. He gestured Sasha and Shaker over to him.
He looked Sasha up and down and said, "I hear you're some shit-hot fighter."
She stopped in front of him, placed her finger-tips together in front of her in what looked to the uninitiated like deference but was actually placing her hands in position to intercept attacks, and bowed slightly, eyes staying on his—the better to see an attack.
"Sensei," she said.
"Maybe we could go a few rounds some time. See if your rep is right."
"I would be honored and pleased to do so. Contact me any time. I'm sure you have my number."
"Follow me," he said and turned to ascend the ladder.
Inside he advanced to the nearest of two aisles and walked forward. In the spacious cockpit was four seats, two forward and two back. The two forward were closer together than the two rear seats. This let those in the rear seats better see out the canopy in front of them.
Sasha noticed that the top of the transparent cockpit was mildly opaqued, enough to cut sunlight but not obscure the view above. A row of buttons ranged along each side of the top window. Each was lit green.
One of the rear seats was occupied by a woman in the uniform of Bluebird Security. She glanced up briefly and returned her attention to an instrument panel which swung out from the side of the 'pit and locked in place in front of her. She had on cupped earphones and was speaking quietly into a microphone positioned in front of and to the side of her face. She was checking out the vehicle and at the same time speaking to the New York Metro air traffic control.
"You sit there," the Colonel said to Shaker, pointing to the rear seat beside the woman in uniform.
"You there" was the front left seat. Standing by the right front seat he said to both pilot trainees, "Turn on the ear phones and put them on." Then he sat in the right front seat.
The two women complied. In the earphones Sasha heard the Colonel. He told them how to switch the 'phones to hear the 'phones of the rear seats, front seats, and cabin speakers, and various combinations. He led them through several combinations, then settled on one which only he and the two students shared.
"Ms. Canaro, you are now the captain of the ship under my command. You will be taking the liner up. Ms. Shaker, you will switch with Ms. Canaro in mid-air and land the ship. I understand you have both light-plane and helicopter licenses. Are they up to date?"
Helen Shaker nodded. "Yes, Colonel, they are."
"Good. Now, these planes almost fly themselves but you will have command unless you over-control. I've set the ship to refuse dangerous maneuvers. In the vehicles you pilot you can over-ride that in an emergency of some sort, but if you do you will likely crash."
He was silent for a moment. Sasha's supersensitive hearing could just make out around the edges of her ear cups and his what was being said to him. The ten assistant pilot teachers in the main cabin had completed ensuring all the students were in their seats and buckled in.
In her earphones Sasha heard him speak. "Cabin crew, be seated ready for take-off. Pilot candidates, we are ready for takeoff. We will be flying out over the Sound and over the Atlantic. We will ascend to 50,000 feet, about ten miles.
"We could go to 85,000 feet, or about fifteen miles. That is the operational ceiling for this model of aircraft. However, my boss, Anna Prince, took planes just like this one to 100,000 feet. She was the first test pilot of every model of aircraft Bluebird Industries makes. She is more than just a pretty face.
"We will now take off. Head crew, please review the safety features of this aircraft for the passengers.
"Now," he said to Sasha and Shaker. "Navigator Sorenson just signaled me that Air Traffic Control has OK'd us to take off. She will take care of all such communications for this flight. In the future you will also have that duty. In this course you will learn how to carry it out.
"Ms. Canaro, please engage the ground transport system." He pointed at a round green-lit button on the instrument panel in front of her. She pushed it. It stayed depressed and lit a golden orange.
Then he led her through driving the vehicle. It drove just like an automobile, for the most part, a deliberate design choice to make these incredible craft easy to control.
A dimly translucent image overlay the front window through which the outside could be seen. While driving the image showed her the desired path and "walls" to the left and right which she should avoid.
The path led forward a couple of hundred feet, then diagonally left, then diagonally right. A wide expanse cross-hatched in yellow was at the end of the path. This was the take-off point.
"Disengage the ground transport system. Engage the near-surface air transport." A second button lit orange when she pressed it. Automatically the huge craft rose on its paramagnetic cushion. Its height was now twenty feet in the air. It could go no higher.
At this height the "ship" was no longer a lumbering craft. It, the Colonel explained, could travel at speeds up to about a hundred miles an hour. "Please don't do so, however. Traffic cops take a dim view of such antics."
Sasha and Shaker chuckled involuntarily. The mild joke from the dour Colonel was surprising.
He continued, "Crew, candidates, we are now taking off."
Sasha went to slow-time. All her faculties were now fully engaged in controlling this craft and keeping everyone on it safe. If she betrayed any of her extraordinary abilities...Well, she could always wipe or dim short-term memories.
"Engage the full-air transport." The words came to her slowed down and in the low registry of human speech.
Sasha pushed the pointed-to button. He then told her to go up and forward, following the path displayed before her.
Immortal shapechanger Sasha Canaro felt a wave of elation wash over her and through her belly. She pushed gently forward on the yoke, so like and unlike the wheel of a car, angled the yoke slightly down to lift the nose of the vehicle, and soared into the sky.
At 10,000 feet, two miles, the Colonel took brief control of the aircraft. Sasha and Helen Shaker switched seats. The Colonel wanted an experienced pilot at the next evolutions.
She did not mind. She'd known Helen had been chafing at the bit behind her and had maliciously enjoyed Helen undergoing that torture. But now Sasha'd had her fun and she wanted her friend to have her fun, too.
The Colonel had kept up a running commentary and continued to do so. This had been fed to the passengers. Also fed to them on vision screens lifted up from below their seats was a two-thirds view of the cockpit controls. This was part of their training, too, not just of Sasha's and Helen's.
From time to time Sorenson the navigator had chimed in to call attention to the radar showing the paths of other aircraft out over the Atlantic. This too was part of the education of the pilot.
Under Helen Shaker's control the AirLiner rose to 50,000 feet and flew at 3000 miles per hour. In forty minutes of flight this took them to Europe. Ten minutes out from Cork City, Ireland, the colonel took over controls, inserted them into the local traffic pattern, and brought them down to 5000 feet.
He then gave the controls back to Helen Shaker and let her land it at the Bluebird research facility north of the city. Sasha, watching intently from her back seat, was impressed with how skillfully her friend br
ought the craft down to ride on its paramag cushion and then its wheels and to rest. True, much of the process was automated, but Shaker had used the equipment surely and without any hesitations.
Over speakers the Colonel said, "If you have read your information packet you know that we are now in Ireland at the same facility that did most of the original research and engineering which made this craft possible. We will be here an hour and a half. We have laid out a banquet and there will be various photo ops with the press. This is a historic flight and we're making the most of it. Take your laser card with you when you deplane. You will need it to get back aboard the plane."
The air outside the craft was chill and wet. They had missed by a couple of hours one of the frequent Irish showers which kept the country the Emerald Isle. The sky was a perfect blue but grey clouds were bunched on the western horizon.
Sasha let her weather sense take over, another one of her esoteric abilities. She "felt" another shower an hour and a half away; it would arrive just as they enplaned again. Maybe that was why the Colonel had said they would only be here an hour and a half?
At the bottom of the ladder was Anna Prince. How had she gotten here before them? Well, a billionaire who owned the paramag and superbattery technology surely had her own private aircraft. Sasha was damned sure that it was the absolutely the fastest vehicle on the planet.
"Hi, Helen. Hi, Sasha. Forgive me for such a brief greeting. I have to press the flesh of a couple of generals and an admiral. See you later."
The press was held off the pilot candidates for a half hour, long enough for them to use the bathrooms and begin snacking. The buffet was sumptuous, not surprisingly. Sasha managed her usual huge lunch and Helen had nearly finished a fat sandwich when matters were called to order.
Thus at the half hour the two women were shuffled off in two different directions, each to a different cluster of reporters. The same process was taking place throughout the pilot candidate crowd as other high officials and a sprinkling of military or police celebrities were singled out.
Sasha endured the usual silly questions and gave the usual silly answers. Then came the one for which she had been primed.
"Sasha! All the other pilots are military or police or emergency people. Why are you in this class? Have you joined the ranks?"
"No. Bluebird will be making luxury air cars. I'll be testing their AirSedans for the next couple of years."
That led to an avalanche of questions. To one, she answered, "No, I don't know of anyone else who will be getting Sedans. But I'll bet there will be others. Go pester Anna Prince. She knows the answers."
She sensed the approach of a thunder shower. Time to get back aboard the air liner. She excused herself, found Helen, and dragged her off with a spurious excuse. When asked why she just nodded toward the approaching line of grey shadow.
The two of them scrambled aboard the liner just in time, laughing at all the laggards. One of whom came over to them before take-off and ostentatiously shook a little bit of aquatic bounty on them to much laughter.
"Are you sorry," Sasha later asked Helen Slater, "that you won't get to take off?"
Slater grinned, "No, I did the hardest part. And I get to finish this sandwich and drink this Harp ale too!"
The multi-week air-car qualification course was rigorous. About a third of the candidates were washed out or washed themselves out. A good deal of money and attention for Prince Enterprises was riding on the abilities of these pilots. There were no short-cuts for any candidate.
Colonel Storm Cloud found time to visit Helen Shaker's advanced martial-arts class and went a few rounds with Sasha. She was careful to best him only half the time. In the end she was reward by an accolade by Storm Cloud.
"Well, the rumors are true. You are hot shit."
Sasha was not the only class participant who had sessions with Storm Cloud. A chance to meet someone who had more combat experience than all the police officers put together was a treat for most class members.
Though Storm Cloud had a low opinion of martial arts. "Only a fool is without a weapon. Stand off a hundred meters and blow their asses away. From ambush. "
In the end Sasha Canaro graduated near the top of the class. She made sure it was not the very top.
A month later the first of the AirSUVs was scheduled to be delivered to the Federal Building in down-town Manhattan. The morning of the delivery Sasha waited anonymously in the crowd near the park beside the building which was the part of the Federal Plaza. An invitational laser card had let her into the temporary stands set up in the closed-off street in front of the Plaza.
Less fortunate people swarmed that street and the sidewalks and looked out windows of the buildings. Several news helicopters buzzed in the nearby air.
"Look! There it is!" A finger pointed at the sky and heads lifted to peer upward. Sure enough a black speck resolved itself into a dark-blue bug which expanded into a vehicle resembling a wheel-less SUV. It disappeared onto the top of the building where there was a helicopter landing pad.
Everyone's heads turned to look at a variety of hand-held phones and info-slates. Sasha saw in her slate a view of the SUV landing in the center of a wide white circle transected by orange cross hairs. The view switched to another. The news channel she was watching had two helicopters in the air. Likely one of them was a small one remote-controlled from the big manned helicopter.
Two small figures left the SUV and walked to four waiting figures backed by more than a dozen other figures. Sasha could tell that the two figures were Anna Prince and Colonel Storm Cloud. Among the four were Helen Shaker, her boss, her boss, and the boss of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This was a historic moment and all the big shots wanted in on it.
There were hand-shakes and unheard introductions all around and the two groups merged and walked to enter the SUV. Moments later it lifted off and Sasha quit watching the screen to look up at the Federal Building. Sure enough there came the vehicle floating down.
Near the ground four ordinary-looking tires folded down from under the SUV body and locked into position. The AirSUV was designed to drive as an ordinary car. Besides, appearing to be an ordinary car might be needed for certain operations where criminals and other should not realize they were dealing with a flying vehicle.
At least that was the official explanation. Privately Sasha thought it was partly because landing on tiny "baby wheels" would make the AirSUV look ridiculous.
Near the ground the hissing of the four air out-ducts underneath the vehicle lessened and then cut off when the tires were just a foot above the concrete area cleared for it. The vehicle slowly and smoothly sank to a rest as its paramagnetic ground cushion effect died away.
Then moments later the rear driver's side SUV doors slid back and open and the four officials and Anna Prince exited to great applause, shouts, and whistles. They emerged smiling and grinning. Then the driver's door opened and Special Agent Helen Shaker emerged. This time the noise was tumultuous.
She was soberly dressed but grinning widely. She stopped and lifted her hands above her head and clasped them triumphantly. Unbelievably the noise became even greater.
Then the four officials, Anna Prince, and Helen ascended temporary stairs to a temporary stage. Each made a short speech, clearly aware that they did not want to leach away enthusiasm by boring anyone. The last one to speak was Helen Shaker.
She seemed in a dream and had to be prompted twice. When she stepped up to the microphone all she said was, "Oh, Hell, I forgot what I was going to say. Can I fly it now?"
Assured by the grinning head of the FBI that she could she almost ran down the short stairs, across the distance to the AirSUV, entered the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
Moments later the air car rose on its ground-effect cushion, the tires rotated into hiding, the air jets began to hiss, and the vehicle began to rise faster and faster as it tilted more skyward. Within seconds it was pointing nearly vertical and as pre-approved screamed dramatically
into the sky.
After a month's wait designed to build anticipation the New York Police Department received its first AirPatrol sedans, one for each of the five boroughs. They were delivered in the three-mile long by half-mile wide Central Park during the Labor Day weekend.
Sasha watched from the garden atop the Thompson's building. Eliza had a number of her friends and relatives over and made a big deal of having driven an air car.
"Though it was actually an air BUS," she declared. "When Sasha gets her air CAR she's going to let me fly it."
"No way!" Sasha laughed at her. "You have to have a helicopter license and be at least eighteen."
"Pretty please?" Eliza (no longer, she had declared, Lizzie) could compete with Sasha's youngest sister, Gia, at making puppy eyes. But years of exposure to Gia had made Sasha perfectly resistant to such appeals.
Eliza switched tactics. She put an arm around Sasha's waist and plastered herself against the shapechanger, looking at her friends and mouthing something. Sasha guessed it was on the lines of She is SO going to let me .
Sasha at not quite 5' 11" was able to look over the heads of all the teenagers at Eliza's parents. She made a face and they grinned back at her.
"Look! Here they come!" A sharp-eyed and attentive teenager pointed out over the park. The teens abandoned Sasha for a motley collection of binoculars and tripod-mounted telescopes near the eastern parapet.
Sasha glanced toward the east, instantly picking out the V-formation of five AirPatrol sedans flying in from the Long Island Sound. Then she went to join the Thompsons and the maid Luisa, temporarily commanded by Eleanor Thompson to abandon her duties and sip a drink of something. The four watched the arrival of the air cars and the attendant ceremonies on a flat-screen Franklin had lugged up from their apartment below.
