Featured Article » Fiction

One Step Toward the Clouds

Written by Sean Massey

Hans Richter Field
Near Grantville
December 1633

Marie Moritz concentrated hard as she lined her plane up for final approach. The drone of the engines poured from the speakers next to the monitor as she fought a thirty mile-per-hour crosswind within a simulated Cessna. Although she routinely flew flights like this on her computer, she usually didn't do it while waiting to present this software to the top brass of the new USE Air Force.

The base didn't have a conference room and Colonel Wood's office was supposedly too small, so Marie had been directed to set up her equipment in one of the unused hangars that had recently been constructed. Through an arrangement with Lieutenant Miller, she managed to have her computer delivered to the base and set up two days prior to the meeting.

The room was cold—much too cold for Marie's comfort. The buildings on the base lacked heating. Had she known that, she would have brought gloves and worn something warmer than a skirt.

"Come on, Marie," she told herself. Her left leg began to bounce, draining off her nervous energy. "You can do it. You just have to concentrate." She reached up and adjusted the plane's flaps for landing and began to ease back on the throttle. That's it, just ease her in. You've done this a hundred times. It's no different just because you're going to be demonstrating this software.

Marie kept one eye on the altimeter and the artificial horizon as she descended. She didn't want to descend too quickly and end up as a smear on the ground, and she had to make sure she wasn't descending so slowly that she overshot the runway. The rest of the landing went quickly, and before she knew it, she heard the chirp of the tires on concrete as the plane touched down. As soon as she had brought the plane to a stop, she ended the simulation.

Before she could start another flight, Colonel Jesse Wood, the chief of staff of the nascent Air Force, entered the room a good half an hour late. "Marie Moritz?"

Marie stood up. "Colonel Wood." He had more than a few inches on her 5'3" frame and a strong grip to match.

"And this must be the flight simulator that you plan on showing me. If I remember correctly, you're in high school. I believe you were in Greg Ferrara's Rocket Club."

"Yes, sir," Marie responded.

"I realize you probably have a presentation, Ms. Moritz," he said, "but I think we can dispense with that. I'm familiar with flight simulators from my days in the Air Force. I had to do simulator checks in order to qualify in the aircraft I flew. Flight simulators are very useful for training, but they're a lot different than the real thing."

Marie began to tremble. This isn't going the way I planned. My whole proposal is ruined.

"I need simulators, Ms. Moritz," he said. "I need a way to weed out unsuitable pilot candidates before they get behind the controls of one of our few planes. And I need a way to put potentially good pilots into dangerous or emergency situations without risking them or their planes, so they can learn to handle those situations calmly when they meet them in the air.

"None of the simulators I have experience with came through the Ring of Fire," Colonel Wood continued. "Back up-time, I was aware of home computer based flight simulators, but I never had the time to really delve into them. I recognized how useful the software could be when I was forming up the Air Force this summer, but I didn't have the time or the resources to research it." He gave Marie a wry grin. "I wasn't sure if anyone even had the software or if they would be willing to part with it."

Colonel Wood gestured at the computer. "So tell me more about your flight simulator . Which one are you using? Can you create new aircraft and new terrain files? How realistic is it? And how easily can it be modified?"

Marie took a moment organize her thoughts. Although she could answer most of his questions, her nerves had driven the answers from her head. "I think it'd just be easier for me to do my presentation, Colonel Wood. It should answer most of your questions."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Moritz. I guess I got a little excited by the prospect of having a flight simulator. Please, continue."

"Thank you, Colonel." With her notes in hand, Marie started her rehearsed presentation. The longer she presented, the more comfortable she became. She began by describing the two flight simulators she was familiar with, then went on to discuss how they could be used in training.

"Honestly? I don't know how real these programs are," Marie said as she neared the end of her presentation. "The program literature and comments on the news groups by experienced pilots suggest both programs are realistic. The biggest issue with realism, though, is the aircraft model. If they aren't modeled perfectly, their flight profiles won't be realistic. And even then, it might take some tweaking to get it just right."

Marie took a breath. "Back up-time, that was one of the biggest complaints with all flight simulators. The models would look like the real thing, but avid fans and pilots would take the time to tweak both the default planes and custom creations to ensure they would fly as realistically as possible."

Colonel Wood nodded his understanding. "I can't elaborate too much, Marie, but we have some new plane designs. Can we use the computer to test the design?"

Marie shook her head. "I'm not sure. I know you can't test a design with one of them, but I'm not so sure about the other. The two programs have completely different flight models. I could look into it, though."

He nodded and jotted down some notes. "Okay, you do that. Now, what sort of information do you need to accurately model an aircraft? "

"I'd need to know basic information about the aircraft. Thrust, drag, stall-speed, engine horsepower and so on. I'd need measurement data to build a 3-D model of the plane. I'd also need trained pilots, preferably the ones with the most hours logged, to perform virtual test flights to help fine tune the model."

"Can you recreate a control panel?"

"You mean on the computer screen?" Marie asked."Yes, you can."

He closed his note book. "I'd like to have at least three of these simulators up and running by summer. I'd prefer more, but I'm not sure you'll be able to find many people willing to part with their computers. You'll need to model the Belle II and, possibly, another plane or two that might enter service in the next couple of months. With the way things have been going lately, I doubt I'll personally have the time to help, but I'll let it be known that everybody should give you all the help you need. Without a doubt, you're my man. Uh, person.

"I'll be able to wiggle some money out of the budget for this, but Mike Stearns will give me an earful about it. I'll need your budget within two weeks, and please keep it as low as possible. "

Marie was startled at the speed of his decision. "Thank you, sir."

As she rode home from the base that evening, she thought about her assignment. She hadn't expected to be offered a contract to work on the flight simulators, but she wanted this opportunity to get to know the people in the Air Force and be close to the planes. All she had really wanted to do since she was three was fly. The Ring of Fire had destroyed that dream, and Marie had been in a deep depression for several months. The revival of powered flight and the development of an air force reinvigorated her and she quickly overcame her depression.

She also wondered what her mother would think. Since she first expressed interest in flying, her mother been against it. It had driven a wedge between the two of them, and Marie found herself spending more time with her father, who encouraged her to be who she was. She could never understand why her mom objected to her desire to fly. She thought it might have something to do with wanting to fly for the military.

****

Two days and five pages of notes later, Marie was overwhelmed. Colonel Wood had sent her a copy of his priorities. She was doing at least ten different tasks, half of them at the same time. She had never worked on a structured project before, and she had no concept of time management and multitasking.

She read through the list for the tenth time as she sat in her father's den. Why does he want me to change the scenery package before creating the down-time aircraft?. It had been the first item on the list, and she wondered if he had written the list in order of importance. As she continued to look down the list, she recognized other items that they had discussed.

Marie began to type up the list of priorities, making sure to rank items by their importance. Computers, planes, and controls should be at the top of my list. I should probably get in touch with that computer guy I met a while back in case I need his help with any of that. But I also need to select which simulator I will use. That has to be my first priority.

Marie finished typing her list and saved the file. "So how do I go about getting the computers? I need machines that are at least five hundred megahertz if I want them to run smoothly." She began to ponder where suitable computers would be found in Grantville. She doubted there would be a gamer or a business willing to part with one, especially the top end kind she needed.

Except, possibly, for her father. "Dad!" she yelled. "I need to ask you something!" She and Dad had always been close. He was the encouraging parent, and had always supported Marie's interest in flight. This inevitably led to confrontation with her mother, who didn't always agree with her interests.

Ted walked into his home office. "How many times have I told you not to yell across the house?"

"I dunno, Dad. But I was wondering if you still had those two old computers."

"Yeah, they're in the basement," he said. "Why?"

"Remember when I told you about that job I got setting up flight simulators for the Air Force?" she asked. "Our computers are good, and I'm wondering if you would sell the new ones. If we can get the old ones running, you'd still have what you needed."

"You know that I did get one of those for work, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dad. I know. But this is important, and they will pay very good money for them."

"Well," he said, after a few moments of thought, "I suppose I can talk to your mother about it. I don't think she'll be too happy with the idea, but she'll probably give in. You'll have to do all the work yourself, though."

"Thanks, Dad," Marie said. "You're the best."

****

By the time breakfast came around the next morning, things had changed. "That's not fair!" Marie shouted. She slammed her fist on the table, rattling a few bowls of oatmeal. "I have a job to do, too."

"You think I don't?" her mother replied. "You're not the only one who works, and some of us need the computer for more than just playing games."

"It's not for playing games," Marie responded. "It's for training pilots. And that's why I'm going to get the two we have in the basement up and running. So we still have computers we can use."

"There you go with your flying stuff again," her mother retorted. "Why can't you just be like your sister for once and be interested in normal girl things? And have you even checked to make sure those computers work? Because they've been down in that basement for an awfully long time."

Marie hated being compared to her younger sister. It was something her mother always brought out against her in their arguments, and it ...