CROSS-CULTURAL EFFECTS / CH. 7:FLIGHT OF THE GUILLEMOT
GUILLEMOT 1, 12:30PM, ST PETERSBURG TIME, FRIDAY 21ST DECEMBER
“St Petersburg flight control, Atlantis Spaceship Guillemot One, approaching your advisory area from the south west, at Mach six horizontal, flight level 150km, leaving a slight plasma trail and requesting immediate vectoring to St Petersburg harbour for a medical evacuation.”
“Very funny, now clear this frequency before you are arrested.”
“St Petersburg flight control, this is Atlantis Spaceship Guillemot One, entering your advisory area, at Mach five horizontal, flight level now 130km and an approximately parabolic flightpath. We are on a mercy mission, our flight plan has been filed and acknowledged. Please do not allow your defences to try to shoot us down.”
“Confirming, please stand by.”
“St Petersburg flight control, we are descending on our filed and pre-programmed flight plan. If you want us to deviate from it, please advise. We presume you didn't actually mean just wait were we were.”
“Is it always like this?” Yelena asked Zelda.
“Apparently lunar approach's radar systems get really upset if you come to a stop on their approach path.”
“You didn't!” Yelena exclaimed.
“I didn't. The flight controller told the designer to 'stop right there' so he did a ten-G emergency stop.”
“Nice ship. I don't suppose they'll ever be for sale?”
“I don't know. I'm quite sure it counts as a military secret at the moment. It might cost more than you can afford.”
“Go on, how much?”
“This prototype is costing my fiancé and me a hundred and fifty thousand pearls between us. Which is really, really cheep compared to a submarine.”
“How much is a pearl worth?”
“A gram of gold.”
“So... a hundred and fifty kilos of gold.”
“Yeah. A real bargain, eh?”
“Not from where I come from.”
“Just so you don't get too tempted, it's got remotely operated self-destruct in case of any attempt to hijack it.” Zelda said.
“You're not worried about someone trying to hack into it?”
“Not very,” Zelda checked the flight position and speed, “Hmm. Mach two, thirty kilometres up, two hundred out. Estimated time of arrival ten minutes.”
“Incoming supersonic plane, please identify.” The flight controller said.
“St Petersburg control, if you're talking about a track two hundred kilometres out at mach two, decelerating at one meter per second per second, that would be the Atlantis Spaceship Guillemot one.”
“Guillemot one please confirm minimum flight speed.”
“Full hover capable.”
“Maximum hover duration?”
“That's a military secret, in excess of one week.”
“That's impossible!”
“That's just fusion power and anti-gravity, next question?”
“Any special landing or cargo facilities?”
“Yes. As I stated, I wish to land in the sea-port for a medical evacuation. My passengers are waiting.”
“Space vessels are not able to be processed at the sea port, any more than the space port deals with water vessels.”
“Thank you for that confirmation. This vessel is a space-capable fusion-powered submarine. Please advise of entry vector for harbour approach and frequency to contact the harbour master.”
“Now you make him think you are teasing him. May I?”
“Of course.”
“Saint Petersburg control, I am a Colonel in the Imperial Secret Services, and passenger on this crazy mixed up vessel driven by crazy speed-freak of a mermaid. I tell you the crazy mermaid is telling you the truth, and if you have sufficient clearance you will see who is listed as passenger for return leg, along with his wife who has a medical emergency. I suggest you just quietly phone the harbour and tell them an experimental sea-plane is arriving very soon.”
“Thank you colonel. Yes, sea-plane Guillemot one, descend to flight level 2000m, speed no more than 600 knots. Landing approach is from 25 degrees south of west, beware of floating ice. Outer beacon at fifteen nautical miles. Contact harbour tower on 121.75MHz.”
“Acknowledged.”
“See?” Yelena said, “All he needed to do was know which box to put you in.”
“Hypersonic space-going underwater sea-plane?”
“Exactly.”
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GUILLEMOT 1, 12:50PM, FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST
“Harbour tower, Atlantis sea-plane Guillemot one approaching outer beacon and requesting formal permission to use your landing area.”
“Have you seen how much ice there is underneath you?”
“Yes, tower, we see it.”
“It is worse here. Divert to alternative landing area.”
“Tower, I don't mind the ice. I have vertical landing capability. I am on a mercy-mission to pick up a medical evacuation from harbour one.”
“Harbour one is reserved for military vessels.”
“I am picking up a military person and his wife for medical evacuation, from quay three of harbour one.”
“I cannot allow a civilian vessel into harbour one, and quay three is for foreign submarines. If you attempt to enter harbour one you will be boarded and all crew members placed under arrest.”
“This is a Guillemot-class experimental vessel, prototype number one, of the navy of Atlantis. It is a forcefield hulled fusion powered submarine with full space-going anti-gravity drive and temporary forcefield-wings to assist in atmospheric flight. Any attempt to board this vessel by anyone except the invited passengers for the medical evacuation will be met with deadly force and the potential triggering of the self-destruct system, with an approximate destructive force of ten kilotons. Any barrier placed to obstruct the way of this vessel is subject to destruction, any ionizing radiation will be stored and may be directed back towards the aggressors or other relevant target. Laser radiation will be reflected, any bullet or explosive charge will be deflected. I will be picking up my passengers from harbour one, quay three.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Certainly, Maam. I thought you said you were a sea-plane, maam.”
“Blame space-approach. They could not cope with the idea of a space-going fusion-powered submarine.”
“Some people have no imagination.”
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ST PETERSBURG HARBOUR, 1:00PM, FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST
At precisely five to one, Zelda had, in defiance of normal aviation practice, glided ten metres above the runway surface and only touched down into the water as the submarine turned onto the taxiway. That had been because of the sea ice, which was roughly speaking everywhere. With permission from the harbour, she then submerged, so she didn't need to push the ice out of the way, but could just go under it. The anxiously watching children saw the silver submarine surface at the end of the pier, and then become transparent.
“There's Auntie Yelena!” Dimitri, Yuri's eldest son called, jumping up and down.
“Hello Mitya!” she called back from the side airlock, calling him by the shortened form of his name, “Apologies if you've got cold waiting, sir,” she said to Yuri.
“You can walk on the wings,” Zelda said, “you won't slip.” Yelena passed that on, “Welcome aboard, but no one touch any buttons please.”
Seeing her son was still jiggling, Natasha asked Yelena if there might be a toilet on the submarine.
“I'll show you, do you think it's urgent?”
“Mitya?” Natasha asked, “Can you wait until we're all on board before you go to the toilet?”
“I don't need the toilet,” he denied despite all evidence to the contrary.
Yelena grinned and explained to Zelda.
“I have a young cousin who's just the same.” Zelda locked the control panel, just in case of five year old fingers, and while Yuri and Yelena got the other three boys and their luggage on board she beckoned the eight year old and his mother towards the back of the submarine. With some sign language, she also pointed out how to get a drink from the kitchen, in case anyone was thirsty.
“I thank you,” Natasha said in careful English.
“It is not a problem to me.”
Natasha held her abdomen. “Hope?”
“Yes. There is hope.” Zelda said, “Yelena? Can you translate? My young cousin who dances up and down but says he does not need the toilet, he was moved as Natasha's baby will be. There is hope.”
“It is a normal surgery then?” Yuri asked.
“Normal? I don't know. I heard it is complicated, but I think I heard the surgeons do it five or six times a year. I don't know if that's each or in total.”
“Do you know what will happen?” Yelena translated.
“Only what I was told happened to my aunt, eight years ago. The baby was not in the right place. They cut away the part where the baby was, put the baby where it should be, and when that was all done, stitched back together the place where they'd cut the baby from. I remember saying that it did not sound very complicated, and I was told 'we simplified it a lot, and you don't need to know more'. I'm sure the surgeons will explain to you far better than I can.”
“But you know someone who lives because of this surgery,” Yuri said.
“Yes. Everything is on board?”
“Yes.”
“Welcome on board the Guillemot one space-submarine. Please fasten your children's seatbelts and your own, and enjoy your trip. Our flight time to Atlantis should be about half an hour. We will take a sub-orbital flight path reaching a height of about one hundred and fifty kilometres, which means your boys can tell their friends they have been in space when they get home.”
Yelena translated that, and the boys immediately started talking excitedly about being cosmonauts.
“Harbour tower, this is Guillemot one, loading is completed and I'm beginning taxi.”
“There will be tanker traffic in your way in three minutes.”
“We can be gone by then, tower. I see our immediate airspace clear for a vertical take off to one hundred metres, then would then like to transition to standard departure flightpath. Do you agree?”
“If you're sure you're not going to damage any naval traffic or buildings with your downwash.”
“We have no downwash, tower, we have antigravity. Guillemot one climbing to one hundred metres and accelerating.” Zelda then turned to Yelena, “Can you do an opinion poll about having a transparent floor or only the walls?”
All the passengers enjoyed spotting landmarks as they climbed. Yuri decided not to remark on the fact that they caused quite a stir among on-lookers too.
It would probably count as good public relations, but he was sure the military generals were not enamoured at the idea of the Mer having air superiority as well as an effective monopoly on sea-power. The funny thing was he didn't mind one bit.
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GUILLEMOT ONE, 1.10 PM, ST PETERSBURG TIME
“Military jet running parallel to Mer spaceship Guillemot one, hello.” Zelda said into her radio.
“Hello, Guillemot one.”
“Would you like to state your purpose?”
“Reconnaissance,” the pilot replied.
Yuri shrugged, “That's allowed. It's not very polite, but it's allowed.”
“This is an experimental forcefield hulled space-going submarine, currently carrying out a medical evacuation. Flight plans have been submitted. Be aware that there is an invisible forcefield projecting along our line of flight a distance of approximately three hundred meters, to reduce our air resistance. Therefore, do not cross directly in front of this vessel, or your plane might intersect with this forcefield or interfere with the protective shock-wave it creates. Also, so you're not surprised, our flight-path will shortly angle to forty five degrees up, and we will accelerate at zero point three gravities until we reach half-way. There may be dangerous turbulence behind us.”
“Acknowledged.”
The plane moved closer, and above the Guillemot. Zelda got back on her radio “Also be aware that the young children of the patient are on board and you are getting dangerously close. Our autopilot will transition to suborbital trajectory in thirty seconds.”
The plane, Zelda didn't recognize which country it was from, moved still closer, presumably to take pictures. Zelda got fed up with that and switched the body forcefield to reflective. The autopilot warned there was probably going to be a collision if it completed the programmed manoeuvre.
“You are too close and are interfering with the safe execution of our flight plan. I repeat, this is a medical evacuation flight.”
“No medical staff have been observed.”
“What has that got to do with anything? Medical staff are in Atlantis, preparing for a life-saving operation on mother and unborn baby. Although there's no immediate danger, the operation potentially becomes more complicated every minute. I warn you that this ship will begin to out-accelerate you in ten seconds. Get clear. I have a clear responsibility to my passengers and your aggressive flying is putting them at risk. We are in international airspace, and any accident will be your fault. Get clear, you will not be able to keep up with this spaceship.” Looking behind her she asked “Is everyone strapped in? I'm going to gradually increase our acceleration until we leave him behind.”
“You're sure you can out-accelerate that plane?” Yuri asked “It has a ram-jet engine.”
“We have fusion powered anti-gravity, and a maximum acceleration which is distinctly uncomfortable, but if he wants to track us all the way to Atlantis he's welcome. As long as he stays out of my way and doesn't want refuelling when he gets there.”
Gradually she pushed on the controls and lifted the column. The pilot reacted and pitched his plane up to track them.
“Do you think his engine needs air?” Zelda asked.
“Certainly”
“Not much of that at a hundred and fifty kilometers. I hope he doesn't think we're taking a ballistic trajectory.”
“We're not?” Yelena asked.
“No,” Zelda replied, “We'll just go that high to avoid other traffic and air molecules. Horizontally, we'll keep on accelerating until we're half-way there, then start decelerating. It's more comfortable that way. How is this acceleration, by the way?”
“Hardly noticeable.” Yelena said.
“Do you agree, Natasha? I do not want to put you under any stress.”
“That pilot puts me under stress, you don't.”
“Tell me if we accelerate too hard,” Zelda said, increasing the acceleration towards half a gravity. To start with, the pilot was able to increase his speed to match, but the increasing altitude was taking its toll. There was less and less air under the wings, less and less oxygen to burn in his engines, and his maximum power was decreasing. He couldn't afford to keep on climbing. The plane's systems warned of an impending stall. He broke off the idea of climbing with them, and pealed away towards level flight. At this altitude, he reached his maximum speed, but the Mer craft just kept on accelerating. Defeated, he turned for home just as his fuel warning light came on.
“He's gone,” Zelda reported, “Now, does anyone know what country he was from?”
“Mother Russia,” Yelena said, sadly.
“Ah,”
“I suspect I know the man who gave the order,” Yuri said. “He will not be very impressed when I tell him you could have accelerated more but didn't want to make it uncomfortable for Natasha.”
“If you wish to really make his day, you can tell him this is basically the same ship that took us to Mars in a week, at opposition, and that we started that trip with a sustained boost of five G, just for fun.” Zelda said.
“And that it's Zelda's personal ship,” Yelena added.
“Not on my own. I bought it together with my betrothed.”
“When is your wedding?” Natasha asked.
“Tomorrow,” Zelda replied.
“Congratulations!” Yelena said.
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ATLANTIS, 9.30 AM. FRIDAY DECEMBER 21ST>
“Auntie Antonina, auntie Antonina! We were in space!” Dimitri said.
“Were you really? Were the stars pretty?”
“Very. It was funny; all the stars were out, but the sun was up too!”
“I hope you didn't look at the sun,” Anastasia said.
“No. Zelda wouldn't let us,” Dimitri said, “We floated round in the space ship too, but mummy felt funny so we had to stop.”
“Antonina, you don't mind helping Yelena look after the boys?” Yuri asked.
“Not at all, Yuri. But here I am known as Anastasia, the name my parents gave me. Go, talk to the doctors.”