Airborn

“Of course I’ll be careful!  It’s not like we haven’t done wildly more dangerous things before, Sea.” Was Sabrina’s repeated protest when I reminded her, again, to stay on her toes during the flight.  I knew she would be, of course.  She wasn’t actually being reckless or anything, but I still had some doubts of the overall safety of the vehicle on which she would be riding.

“I know you will.  But it’s my job to worry, remember?  As your Wife and as your Captain.  Wouldn’t be right to fly near forty light years in cold sleep only to end your span crashing a stick and string steam balloon.”

Sabrina snorted with laughter, then leaned in to give me one of the bear hugs I’d come to adore.  “I’ll be fine.  Besides, I know full well you’ll have a skiff shadowing Victoria the whole way.  Now, let’s go!”

Following her from the carriage, I had to admit she was right.  We’d be watching the flight both from orbit and from a thermoptically camouflaged skiff a couple minutes flight from the airship.  Even if we hadn’t, we’d be able to track her movements with the miniature transponder each of us had implanted.  Though the device’s range was limited , Earth that Is was so quiet in the RF bands we’d be able to track one with a handheld from fifty kilometers off.

Walking up towards the landing platform where Victoria, and the similarly designed Triomphe, were tethered, I had to admit they were impressive.   I’d seen them before in daylight.  But here, in the pre-dawn glow and lantern light from the platform, they seemed even more impressive.  They seemed much larger than they actually were, immense and nearly silent, save for the faint hiss of steam and the rumble of the boilers.

The increase in Earth’s atmospheric density since the Exodus meant they could be heavier than a lighter-than-air ship of generations past for the same size envelope.  Being steam powered, they had prodigious amounts of waste heat to use for lift, and steam itself was a surprisingly good lifting gas.  Having the steam engine’s condensers as part of the airbag gave them additional lift while reducing the amount of water they needed aboard.  All in all, they were sophisticated, if low tech, craft.

Over 90 meters long and almost 10 in diameter, the ships ran with a crew of 15 to 20 pilots and could carry nearly 10 tons at 130 kilometers per hour.  Surprisingly, both, here, were armed with several short barrel cannon that could be used against either surface targets or other airships.  While their cargo capacity was relatively tiny compared to their sheer size, they were the fastest vehicles on the planet outside our own imported skimmers and spacecraft.

Angel and a couple of her officers, her Navigator and the Engineer Sabrina had been speaking with, came down from the platform to meet us, exchanging pleasantries in the early morning chill.

Sabrina gave me a quick peck on the cheek and immediately went to talk to the Engineer, Palmer in tow, as I went to meet Angel and her Navigator.  Our conversation the night before had been enlightening on several levels, regarding the local communities, the business of operating an airship, and the rivalries between various crews.  Apparently, it was sometimes hard to run them at a profit and, while she was somewhat vague on her own standing on the matter, she’d made it clear that some airship captains weren’t above operating as smugglers or pirates when need, or opportunity, arose.

I wasn’t actually surprised.  While I’d never resorted to actual piracy back in the 34 Tauri system, I had done my share of smuggling, and was actually proud of some of the runs I’d made back in the day.  Orbital observations of the airships had already suggested they were involved in both smuggling and commerce raiding, so Angel’s information only confirmed what we already suspected.

“You have my word, Captain Seana.  We will keep her safe.”  Angel assured me with a faint smile, mirrored by her Navigator’s mumbled agreement, then gave that little half bow she did before turning back to Victoria.

“My Cap’n’s right, ma’am.  Done this trip a hundred times on Victoria.  We’ll have her back afore supper,” the Navigator reaffirmed, then after a little bow of his own, took off after his Captain.

Conner joined me as I returned to the carriage, both of us watching Sabrina and Palmer as they boarded Victoria’s crew gondola.  “Still having doubts, Cap’n?” He asked, shifting smoothly into our native 34 Tauri dialect, eliciting a faint nod in reply.

“Some, Lieutenant.  But more worried about that contraption than Palmer or Sabrina’s abilities.”

Conner nodded, looking at the airship’s profile as the sky slowly started to brighten with the coming dawn.  “Not sure I’d feel safe flying one myself, but they’ve both been briefed.  They’re both wearing recorders, and they both have comms.  They won’t be out of touch and we’ll be close at hand if anything goes wrong.”  

He sounded confident, but I knew he took his role very seriously and had his own doubts about the advisability of this plan.  While the science teams were very interested in getting first hand information from Victoria in flight, the ORCAs would always look at the situation through their ‘keep the crew safe’ lenses.

Over the next half hour or so, as the sun came up, we watched them finishing their preparations for take off.  While there was a good deal less involved in launching an airship than there was in, say, boosting a transport to orbit, there was a crucial difference.  Where a Matagi pilot could just key in the preflight and confirm the on board systems were coming up properly, the airship crew had to do it all manually.  All of it.  From checking fuel levels and steam pressure, to making sure the ship was trimmed and none of the mooring lines would foul the props.  Someone had to do it themselves, rather than rely on a slew of automated systems and computer control.  Years ago, I’d seen the same sort of thing on a purely sail powered watercraft on Surfer’s New Paradise.  A Clipper, my Uncle had called it.  Every bit as manual, but Victoria had the added complexity of her lift system, boilers, steam turbines, and flight controls.

From our position a little down the hill, we could watch as, accompanied by the shouts of pilots and crew to release mooring lines, the faint hiss of steam through the turbines, and the distinct sound of propellers slicing air, Victoria majestically rose from the her moorings and set off into the brightening glow of sunrise.

Within a few minutes the airship had turned onto the first leg of her journey and was climbing to her cruising speed and altitude.  It was actually a little eerie to watch.  The steam turbines were surprisingly quiet and, since she didn’t need to rely on airspeed for lift, it was a bit like watching a grav lift boat clearing the ground before firing its main drives to make orbit: all, kind of, floaty.

For the next ten minutes we watched them clear off from the carriage, disappearing into the distance before the ridgeline finally blocked our line of sight, then mounted up to head back to camp so we could watch the feeds from the pursuing skiff and our crew’s recorders and comms.

On some levels, I was actually more envious than worried.  Yes, the airships were primitive by our standards.  They lacked most basic safety equipment, including parachutes, had no automation, communication, or navigation beyond ‘piloting’ and celestial navigation when they operated during night hours, lacked any sort of sensors that didn’t involve a crewmember’s abilities to see or hear, and were held together with organically grown components.  But Sabrina and Doctor Palmer were the ones going for a ride in it while I stayed behind under the watchful eyes of my ORCA protector.

I’d debated using the period of the trip to do more personal exploration of the town, but ultimately decided that it would be better to head back to our outpost and observe the feeds directly.  At least until it was time to head back to town and meet them on landing.  While I couldn’t be there in person, I could at least enjoy the trip vicariously through the displays.

From what we could see, and hear, Victoria gave a smooth and quiet ride.  Though I had to wonder what it would be like if they encountered any sort of inclement weather.  I’d flown through my share of storms over the years in everything from a tiny two many skiff up to patrol Corvettes and mid-bulk transports.  Considering how much they got bounced around, it seemed likely a lighter than air craft like Victoria would be a real handful for her crew when weather took a turn for the worse.

The weather though, was flawless.  Where the airship crews had experience to go on, we had satellite observation and could see the weather would be flawless for the entirety of the trip.  Which meant the feeds were steady and smooth while Sabrina and Palmer made a point of looking around at the ship’s operation as much as the scenery flowing by below.

During the flight, we’d been careful not to distract Palmer or Sabrina with any additional traffic.  The Science team had gotten a fair bit of practice feeding us tidbits when needed in town, but they were handling themselves fine.  However, when Victoria finally stopped at their first destination, I keyed into Sabrina’s comm set to find out how she was enjoying her little adventure.

“I love this boat, Sea!  I’m going to build one.  Promise you’ll let me build one!”  ‘Brina’s enthusiasm was as obvious as it was infectious. Though she did have the sense to keep her voice down, so no one would think she’d lost her mind talking to herself.

“If you think you can build one, you’re welcome to try.  After the mission reaches a point where you have that much free time?”

“If I think I can build one?”  she replied with a snort of derision.  “But I know.  Work first.  But this boat’s amazing, Sea.  It’s the kind of thing we’d have built back home when we had to work with whatever we had.”

“Glad you’re having fun.  You know you and Palmer will be writing full reports once you’ve gotten your legs back under you?  The Science team is itching to debrief you both to detail out everything they’re seeing in the feeds.”

She laughed again, forcing herself to keep it down so as not to draw undue attention.  “Yeah, yeah.  Full reports and commentary.  We knew . . . “  Her voice trailed off to as I heard someone approaching.

“Enjoy, love.  We’ll let you go and just watch from here.”

She kind of half subvocalized a response, then started talking to the Engineer who’d come to join her on Victoria’s gun deck.  I only half listened to their conversation, seeing the feed from her recorder on the screen in front of me, and from Palmer’s on an adjacent display.

This stop would be for only half an hour or so, then onto another, then the loop back home.  We would be watching, shadowing, but not interfering unless something went wrong.  With luck, nothing would go wrong and I’d be meeting them when they landed in the early evening hours.  If something went wrong?

We’d deal with that when, if, it happened.  In the meantime, we’d just vicariously enjoy the ride.