Authors: Ryan Schneider
“Roger that, tower.” Danny released the push-to-talk button so only Howard could hear. “Ready to go flying, Howard?”
“Affirmative, sir.” Howard’s eyes positively glowed. “Quite ready.”
“Roger that.”
Danny throttled up and got the jet moving. He taxied onto the runway, aligned himself with the runway centerline, and advanced the throttle.
Within seconds, the Viper Jet was rapidly picking up speed.
At ninety knots, Danny pulled gently on the joystick. The nose of the jet lifted into the air and the airplane flew off the runway. Danny retracted the landing gear and continued climbing until they flew over the coast, and the Pacific ocean filled the horizon a glorious blue.
“Where should we go, Howard?”
“I have no preconceived notions about our flight path, sir. I am simply happy to be in the air.”
“You must have been a bird in a former life, Howard.”
“Indeed, sir. Perhaps I was a positronic bird.”
Danny laughed out loud. “Get on the stick with me, Howard. She flies like a shuttle, only a lot more maneuverable. And a lot more fun.”
Danny banked right and turned to the north, following the coastline. He could feel a minute increase in the pressure required on the stick, the result of Howard’s hand clutching the joystick between his robotic legs. Howard had a light touch. He had certainly proved it when he bounced their damaged shuttle off the surface of the Salton Sea yesterday. “Let’s keep it at one thousand feet above ground level and four hundred knots.”
“One thousand feet A-G-L and four hundred knots,” Howard confirmed.
Danny let go of the stick and pulled his feet away from the rudder pedals. He would let Howard do the flying.
“Hey, Howard. We forgot to check this thing for explosives.”
“Too late now, sir.”
“You’d think we’d have learned our lesson.”
“Indeed, sir. Particularly given that two out of the three potential targets on board our sabotaged shuttle are now on board another aircraft. We certainly aren’t making the saboteur’s job very difficult.”
Danny laughed out loud once more. “Was the mechanic at the shop going to call the cops or am I supposed to do it?”
“Mr. McGherrity volunteered to take care of it, sir. A detective from the LAPD should be contacting you. What will you tell him?”
“Good question.”
“Do you believe the individual or individuals behind our accident are members of one of the anti-robot activist groups, sir?”
“Seems likely. What do you think?”
Howard did not immediately reply. Danny glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Howard’s head was turned and angled downward. He was watching the shoreline pass by one thousand feet below. Danny was content to wait for an answer, content to give Howard time to think.
Finally Howard replied, “I think robots and humans can live in peace. If members of both groups will simply let it be so.”
“Amen, Howard. Amen.” Now Danny looked down. At 400 knots, the coastline and the beautiful homes built along the beach raced by. People on the beach looked up and pointed at the jet. Then they were gone.
“Enough of that,” Danny said. “Let’s do some flying. You think you can fly this thing?”
“I can try, sir.”
“You can do a lot more than try. I got off the stick five minutes ago.”
In the mirror, he saw Howard look down at the joystick in his hand, then back up at the sky around them. “I’ve been controlling the aircraft?”
“Affirmative.”
“Intriguing.”
Danny laughed. “You have the flight controls, Howard.” Danny lifted his hands in the air, where Howard could see them, and wiggled his fingers in an unmistakable demonstration of positive exchange of flight controls.
“Roger, sir. I have the flight controls.”
Danny was pleased, and amazed, at Howard’s textbook response. He should’ve debriefed the procedure for deciding who was flying while they were still on the ground. Nonetheless, Howard seemed every bit the seasoned aviator. Danny had no doubt that were he to suffer a heart attack and lose consciousness, Howard was fully capable of returning him safely to the airport.
“Hey, Howard. What’s that at our nine o’clock?” Two objects were approaching on the left. They appeared to be aircraft, though from this distance it was impossible to say for certain. But Howard had more powerful eyesight.
“They appear to be a flight of two U.S. Navy-issue F-35 Lightning fighter jets. And they’re coming this way.”
“We’re not too far from Vandenburg air force base. They’re probably out on maneuvers. Are we outside the restricted airspace?” Danny tapped the moving map display on his LCD screen, verifying their position; he and Howard were indeed well outside any restricted airspace.
“It appears they wish to say hello,” said Howard.
The Navy jets drew closer, until they were a mere wingspan away. They sported blue and grey livery, and a great golden dragon emblem adorned the vertical stabilizers. Both jets were a mottled grey color, with slightly rounded edges and corners. Danny had no doubt the fighters could be completely invisible on radar when they chose to be.
The pilot in the nearest plane wore a red helmet with an image of a Chinese dragon spitting fire. The call sign stenciled on the edge of his canopy said
Egg Roll
. He raised one hand and flashed a series of fingers: 1-1-3-4.
Danny tuned his number-two radio to 113.4 gigahertz. He listened.
“You boys got your ears on?”
Danny pressed his push-to-talk button on his joystick: “Roger, Navy. Got you five by five.”
“Jolly good,” the pilot radioed back. “I’m Egg Roll and this here’s A-Hole.”
A-Hole’s helmet looked like a golf ball. Stenciled on the lip of his canopy was
A-Hole in One
.
“That’s sure a pretty bird,” said A-Hole. “We were just about to hit an MTR. You boys up for a little Follow The Leader?”
“Whaddya say, Howard?” Danny asked, checking his rear view mirror.
“It’s your airplane, sir.”
“Yes, but your life is more important. You are my responsibility. The airplane can be replaced; you can’t be.”
Howard did not immediately reply.
“Howard?”
“I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, sir.” Howard’s head swiveled toward the two fighters flying alongside. “Have you ever had a chance to fly with Naval aviators?”
“No.”
“Then it seems a shame to pass upon what is clearly a rare opportunity.”
Danny laughed.
Egg Roll held up both hands:
Well, what’s it going to be?
“I think he needs an answer, buddy,” said Danny.
“As master Floyd would say, Let’s party.”
Danny laughed once more, harder this time. “Care to share the sentiment with our Navy pals?”
“May I?”
“Be my guest.”
Danny heard the slight
click!
when Howard pressed his push-to-talk button, followed by the distinct sound of an open mic. “Gentlemen, let’s party.”
Danny heard more laughter.
“Keep it no more than one hundred feet off the deck,” A-Hole radioed.
“What happens above one hundred feet?” Danny radioed.
“You don’t want to find out. Break left on my mark. Three . . . two . . . one . . . mark!”
Both fighter jets broke hard to the left and descended toward the water.
“You heard the man, Howard! After them!”
“Very good, sir.”
Howard flicked the Viper Jet into a descending left turn so sharp that when Danny looked up, the ocean was where the sky should be. Then Howard rolled them upright and fell into the number-three position behind the second Lightning.
Danny checked the altimeter in his heads-up-display. The red numbers seemed to float in mid-air a few inches beyond the canopy. They were flying a mere twenty-five feet above the ocean. “These guys are crazy.”
“It would seem so, sir,” said Howard. “Shall I break off?”
“Hell no. In it for a dime, in it for a dollar. Let’s see where they go.”
“Very good, sir.”
Danny wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He found himself repeatedly reaching for the joystick; sheer force of habit. Finally he grabbed the straps of his safety harness.
The Navy jets screamed through the air. Danny sat in awe as they banked left, turning west toward the Channel Islands. They flew just south of Santa Cruz Island, then ripped through the Santa Cruz Channel. A hard banking left turn careened them around the north side of Santa Rosa and around the smaller San Miguel Island in a tight, banking 360-degree turn, until they finally rolled level.
Directly ahead lay the coast line. Danny glanced down at the moving map. They were lined up with the Military Training Route, five miles east of Point Conception.
An oil rig appeared ahead. They roared past it, so low to the water that they were lower than the rig itself. Danny saw a score of people on the rig waving their red, yellow, orange, and white hard hats in the air.
Then green foliage filled the horizon.
Danny was rocked side to side, left and right, right and left, and back again. The Navy jets careened through a narrow river valley, averaging 100 feet above ground level.
A mountain appeared and Howard banked hard to the right, tossing Danny sideways until his helmet bumped the canopy. Their angle of bank exceeded 90 degrees, as did those of the Navy jets.
“All right, sir?” Howard asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Would you like to take the flight controls now?”
Another mountain, another hard bank to the left.
“You never change horses halfway through the race, Howard!”
“Understood, sir.”
Another mountain. Followed by another, requiring one long hard pull to the right. Danny looked to his right and found himself staring at the tops of massive oak trees, so close he could reach out and touch them.
Howard slammed the aircraft level and pulled up hard, following the jets over a ridgeline. The second jet went higher than the first, higher than the Viper Jet. A glowing stream of lights filled the air.
“What the hell is that?!”
“They appear to be bullets, sir.”
“From where?”
Egg Roll’s voice came over the radio. “Did I forget to mention this is a live-fire exercise?”
“Yes, he did!” Danny shouted, mostly to himself.
“You boys might want to duck,” A-Hole added. His jet rolled in a tight spiral, evading the bullets. It then took up a position behind the Viper Jet.
A small town was visible over a nearby ridge. The moving map identified it as Solvang. Danny had attended a lovely wedding there once. They served the most delicious barbecue.
The Viper Jet whipped left, pulling Danny’s attention away from Solvang and barbecue.
The green trees and foliage gave way to canyons of red rock.
They flew over a lake, and past a hydroelectric power plant.
A hard, banking left turn swept them northward. Howard was doing an exemplary job of staying close to the lead jet; closer than the second jet was following behind them.
The rusty orange and brown striations of the red rock canyons gave way to a flat expanse of desert. The moving map confirmed they were indeed approaching the Mojave Desert.
Egg Roll climbed suddenly, then dropped again to his previous altitude.
A narrow, white exhaust plume appeared in the distance. It could only be one thing: a missile launch.
“Howard! On your right! One o’clock, coming fast!”
Danny’s helmet hit the canopy again when Howard banked hard to the left, sidestepping behind one of the numerous buttes. The missile impacted the top of the butte.
“Oops,” radioed Egg Roll.
“If I didn’t know better,” said Danny, “I’d think somebody was trying to kill us. Watch out!”
A large butte lay directly ahead. Howard went left; Egg Roll went right. Danny strained to look over his shoulder and saw A-Hole also went right. “These guys know this course.”
“A logical conclusion, sir.”
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“By what route, sir?”
“Straight up?”
“Climbing above one hundred feet seems to activate ground-based anti-aircraft systems.”
“So what do we do?”
“It seems the only way out is through.”
The buttes gave way to more hills, as high as 5800 feet according to the terrain mapping radar. Scattered across the hills were massive white windmills, each with a great three-bladed prop turning in the wind.
Egg Roll headed directly toward them.
Howard followed the line traveled by Egg Roll’s jet. Several times Danny winced when the blades of a windmill nearly struck the Viper Jet.
The deadly windmills receded into the distance and Danny saw another vast expanse of desert stretching before them. The moving map labeled it Wells Valley. In the near-center was the China Lake dry lake bed, and to the southwest lay a pattern of three runways built nearly in the shape of a capital letter A. This was Armitage Field, home to the Naval Air Weapons Station at China Lake. That would explain the Navy pilots. And the weapons.