Engine with Wings

Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker stared at the runway in silent apprehension. The concrete was soaked with water. Soap foam glinted in a film across the surface. Cypris could feel a very curious form of deja vu creeping up the back of her neck; she felt very strongly, that she had stood in a similar place, she’d felt the same lather of worry and anxiety drip down into her flight boots, and she knew that she had stood in the same place and been just as anxious as she was now. The odd thing about Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker’s deja vu, was that she could actually recall the initial event which was nagging at her mind. Put shortly, the only odd thing about Cypris’s deja vu, was its wholehearted ordinariness; Cypris felt as though she’d stood, shuffling her feet, at the edge of the runway before because she had stood, shuffling her feet, at the edge of the runway before.

Today though, Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker wasn’t staring up at a lopsided Phoenix IV; the launch pad was empty and quiet, and shrouded by fog. The runway was bustling with techs that morning, and if Cypris had looked left and slightly behind her, she would have been able to watch the last of the fuel being loaded into the main engine of the silky-white Fang X-IIIA that was sitting on the tarmac just to Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker’s left and a little behind her. 

The Fang X-IIIA is a facinating aircraft, especially where its specs and classification are concerned. It looks a bit like a plane, and looks like it flies a bit like a plane, but it actually just flies like a horizontal rocket, because for the most part the Fang X-IIIA is a horizontal rocket designed for transferring crew into low earth orbit. Occasionally it moonlights as a plane for very fast suborbital flights. The Fang X-IIIA, while it may have been built for space travel, features almost nothing in the way of safety systems. In fact, the cabin isn’t actually pressurized, despite the Fang X-IIIA being classified as a “space bullet.” The designers of the Fang X-IIIA were fanatically obsessed with weight savings. As a result, there are no redundant systems, no backup circuits, and no provision whatsoever for any margin for error. Consequently, the Fang X-IIIA flies beautifully if handled properly, and tends to shed its wings and detonate in a large friendly starburst of half-spent rocket fuel and atomized astronauts when handled impetuously. Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker was glad that she had Kareem as her pilot; he was one of the least impetuous people she had ever met. 

Because the Fang X-IIIA is propelled by a single catastrophically powerful booster engine during the first minute of flight, the majority of Fang X-IIIA crashes have occurred during takeoff. This is in part because many pilots become power-drunk when faced with the opportunity of “controlling” a vehicle capable of producing 300+ Newtons of thrust while idling. Its landing gear are also notoriously tractionless, hence the joke: “I was put in traction by a lack of traction.” While it’s not much of a joke, it should be noted that the original teller in fact had been put in traction by the Fang X-IIIA’s lack of traction, and humor was one of the last things on his mind. The “joke” has proliferated among Fang pilots despite how bad it is. 

There is a point to all this, even if it hasn’t been quick in coming; Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker was considerably daunted by the shark-like aircraft behind her because it could travel unimaginably fast before even leaving the atmosphere. She was used to the ridiculous speeds attained by brushing one’s teeth in space; speed could be accrued simply by doing nothing at all once you were in orbit, and if you actually did something, you could alter your velocity tremendously. No, Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker was used to orbit. In orbit, speed was silly and a little pointless. It was possible to function quite adeptly in space without stopping to visualize just how quickly they were going. 

The Fang X-IIIA has so much thrust that it can glide from the point where the engine cuts out to the point where the atmosphere is completely gone and (hopefully) the receiving station is just passing by. The Fang X-IIIA generates quite a bit of g-force when it does this, and has the added property of being completely terrifying. Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker was not terribly enthused by the prospect of having her face hauled backwards over her skull, nor was she excited by the prospect of sitting in an aircraft that screamed like a banshee while it barreled unreservedly down the runway with little to no regard for its squishy cargo. If there was a bright side to that flight, Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker hadn’t seen it. 

The technicians rushed away, the engine sparked, and Cypris turned to her crew, who, like the Fang, she had been trying to ignore. Mostly she was trying to ignore Kareem, who had a very obvious crush on the very fast plane/rocket/bullet behind them. 

“I’m not looking forward to this.” Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker said. 

They were being transferred to Mortimer Station to “await further orders.” 

“I am.” Kareem said. “Did you know that the Fang can break the sound barrier before even leaving the runway?”

“You are having too much fun.” Emily said. She was still asleep. The canteen had been out of coffee, and Emily was not a morning person. 

Conrad stared at the Fang. “I think they’re waiting for us.” 

“Now?”

“Yeah, pretty sure.” 

“Alright then. Here we go.” Cypris Maricela Alta Cranford-Tracker said. 

“Again.” Kareem added. “Space. Did any of you actually think that we’d be paid to go into space?” 

A collective shake of the head. 

“Thought not.”