When he leveled the flaming 186, the young pilot saw that only one pursuit ship fled the incoming fighters. A quick glance out the canopy showed a trail of smoke spiraling towards the ground. And then the fighters of the UHR were easing into position around Dyan's ragged old ship. Again a voice sputtered over his com.
" Looks like you're pretty chewed up, pal. " the voice said. " Can you make the city? "
" Just lead the way, pilot. " Dyan replied. " I'll make it
there. "
" Okay, buddy. We'll be turning you over to Ground Approach Control in just a couple of minutes. Then it's up to you. "
Nothing more was said as the ships escorted their smoking charge in over the UHR city of Etahrnal. Dyan spared what attention he could for the sight of that gleaming city.
From the center of the city grew a huge cylindrical tower, rising high above the tall buildings surrounding it. The city spread out from that tower in concentric circles of buildings and roads. Four main thoroughfares quartered the huge city on the points of the compass. A high, archaic- looking wall surrounded the entire city and the four roads ended at huge, towered gates in the walls. The city itself was surrounded by vast farmed fields and orchards, all quartered by the four roads. As Dyan flew in over the fields, Ground Approach Control come on the line to him.
" Flight Blue 72, G.A.C. assumes control of the boogie. Return to your field. Acknowledge. "
" Blue 72 Flight Leader to G.A.C. Acknowledge your last. Blue 2, take them home. "
" Acknowledge that, Blue Leader. " another voice said as five of the sleek fighters peeled off and soared away, leaving Dyan alone with Blue Leader.
" Well, pal, it's just you and me. " the other pilot told Dyan. " I'll stick around and help you baby that wreck in. Please try not to damage my ship when you hit! "
" Ground Control. " Dyan spoke into his mike. " This is Captain Dyan Vun Doerf, Reagency Fighter Command. I have information I must deliver to your Commander immediately. "
" It will have to wait, Captain. Right now slow to 100 knots and come to 063 degrees. "
Dyan did as he was ordered.
" My information must be delivered at once, Ground Control. " Dyan reiterated. " I may not make it down in one piece! "
" Slow to 80 knots and descend to altitude 300. You are entering final approach glide path. "
Dyan did as he was told. He came in low and slow over the city and as he did he saw the runway ahead of him.
" Begin crossover checklist for vertical decent. " Ground Approach Control told the young pilot. Dyan noticed that he was further out than was customary to begin his crossover test. At least they had taken his damage assessment seriously.
Dyan engaged the controls that redirected the thrust of his engines to the vertical thruster ports. He slowly eased the crossover control up, gently channelling more power to the vertical ports. The old fighter began to shudder and the port wing started to creep up. Dyan cross-controlled and eased on more thrust. The port wing crept higher, the battered ship shaking fiercely as it did. Dyan disengaged the crossover controls.
" VunDoerf to Ground Control. Full failure of starboard thrusters. Vertical descent not possible. "
" Acknowledge that, VunDoerf. Lower landing gear at this time. "
Dyan snapped the switch and the gear motors hummed.
" Doors open. " Blue Leader reported. Gear coming down. What's your board say, pilot? "
The landing gear thumped against the stops and Dyan looked to his status lights. Only two of the three lights were green.
" Check me again, Blue Leader. Starboard gear reads bad."
The sleek fighter beside Dyan dropped down out of sight. Immediately, Blue Leader reported the bad news.
" Starboard gear still in the bay. Negative lowering on starboard landing gear, pilot. "
" I'm retracting my landing gear, Ground Approach Control. I am declaring this an emergency landing. Acknowledge. "
" Acknowledge that, VunDoerf. We are foaming the field. You have Emergency Priority. "
" VunDoerf, aye. " Dyan replied. Then he reversed the landing gear controls.
Instantly, telltales flashed on his already over bright main panel and Dyan heard electrical arcing, the acrid smell of burning insulation stinging his nose.
" I have a retract failure, Blue Leader. What can you see? " Dyan asked.
" You still have two gear down and locked, pilot. Try it again. " Blue Leader said.
" Negative retry, Blue Leader. Full system failure. " Dyan said.
" Well, pilot, Gods bless you. " Blue Leader said solemnly, then added in a faint whisper, " You're going to need all the luck you can get! "
" Descend to alt 100, VunDoerf, and slow to stall speed. You are on final approach now. "
" Acknowledge, Ground Approach Control. " Dyan replied.
Dyan slowed his shot-up ship until it just barely remained airbourne. He lined up on the runway, watching as the thick, white anti-fire foam spread over the surface. The young pilot began his descent. He noticed that he couldn't distinguish the end of the runway for the foam now.
" Call me the outer marker, Blue Leader. " He ordered. " I going to dump my tanks. "
" Coming up fast, pilot. Stand by. " the other pilot said. " You're at the marker......Now! " Blue Leader called out.
Dyan slammed his fist down on the emergency fuel dump and his fighters' tanks emptied in a blazing trail of fire as the engines ignited the fuel before they died. The ship shuddered and Dyan lifted the nose slightly, easing lower. He had a very short glide ability, but he dare not slam the ship down on the runway or it would break in two. So he eased his dead ship lower and lower, until foam splattered the canopy from the nose gear. Then he slammed the hurtling wreck to the runway.
White foam instantly covered the canopy, obscuring Dyan's vision. The landing gear touched and screamed as it tore over the hard runway. Dyan fought to hold the old ship level as long as he could. But the ship began to slew to starboard. The unsupported starboard engine dipped into the foam, ripped into the runway surface and sheared off!
Dyan's fighter dropped onto the shorn wing, the port engine rolled up and the ship slewed wildly for a few feet. Then the nose gear collapsed, torn loose as it slammed into the skittering starboard engine boom. The battered old fighter began to roll and bounce down the runway in a spray of white foam. The port engine twisted around with the shriek of tortured metal. The long nose of the ship bent upward, the rudders ripped free, and the wreck roll over and over down the runway.
With a final, violent crash, the fighter slammed down into the foam, upside down, and slid off the end of the tarmac. The screeching fuselage scraped through the foam and piled into the fused concrete crash barrier at the end of the field. The bent nose crumpled, the port engine sheared off, and the wrecked fighter came to a sudden stop.
Battered and dizzy from that wild ride, Dyan tripped the canopy release. Nothing happened. Automatically, he reached out and fired the emergency release. A loud blast banged his ears as the explosive bolts blew the canopy free, through the steaming foam and smashing it against the fusion-bonded surface of the runway. The young pilot slid out of his harness to stand on the crushed canopy. He jerked the seat forward and grabbed the emergency survival kit stored behind it. Then Dyan staggered away from the wrecked fighter into the foam.
As the young officer floundered through the sea of white fire-fighting agent seeking the clear light of day, huge cannons began pouring thousands of gallons of water over the field, dissolving the foam and washing it away. Dyan was knocked flat by the deluge and held there until the runway had drained. While it was uncomfortable, it did give his head a chance to clear, and Dyan began to wonder what had possessed him to take the emergancy survival
" crash pack " when he had come down in the middle of a city!
When the cascade ended, the young pilot got to his feet. He stood there, drenched and dripping, when a sleek fighter roared overhead and wagged it's wings at him. And there he stood when a hover-jeep raced over the wet runway and swished to a halt beside him. He was still standing there when a gruff old Sergeant leaned out of the jeep and addressed him.
" You gonna stand there all day, boy? " the man bellowed, " Or mebbe you just come here to clutter up our fair city. "
" I have important information I have been charged with delivering to your Commander. " Dyan said for lack of anything else.
" Well he ain't gonna hear it if you're standin' out here now is
he? " the non-com replied, then added in a parade- ground bellow; " So get in the jeep! "
Startled, Dyan leaped into the vehicle. He hadn't been spoken to like that since he'd left flight school! Crash pack in one hand, flight helmet in the other, the young pilot was whisked through the streets of the vast city. The way the Sergeant drove made Dyan feel he was back in that canyon; helpless and out of control.
The little hover-jeep whizzed through the streets, weaving through the traffic, veering around corners, never slowing until it reached the tower that rose from the center of Etahrnal. Here, the Sergeant slowed slightly, when they raced down a ramp into a garage beneath the base of the tower. The non-com spotted an empty parking slot and aimed for it. He killed the engine as he neared the slot and the hover-jeep bounced into the space on its' landing pads, stopping almost touching the wall.
