Tales of the Groundbound: Broken Bird, Chapter 17

[steuben]

Chapter 17

Jebediah and Walt stood in the observation lounge overlooking the tourist flight control centre.  Each had their own reasons for being there.

“Dancers, Taxi 132-Heelo,” a tinny female voice came through the speakers it had a slightly excited cheerful tone. “Beginning dump burn. Get the pot going. I’m going to want a double-double when I get back.”

“2-Heelo, Dancers, copy that,” one of the controllers. ”You’re projected for Eliza. Catch you on the brownside.”

“Dancers, 2-Heelo. Bingo fuel. I’m ballistic till landing. She’s whispering now.”

“No,” Jebediah whispered. His hands clasped the railing. His knuckles were white. “It’s cursing her.” Walt glanced over at him.

A grunt and the sound of tearing metal came through the speakers.

“Danc — “ Her voice shifted to have a faintly folksy slightly bored drawl. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday. Taxi 132-Heelo. Taxi 132-Heelo. Taxi 132-Heelo. I have lost one of the control fins. Felt like some of the hull as well. Do not know if there is other damage. Still have remaining fins. Wheels look to saturate and leave me short of authority. Going to keep damaged side high and in the shadow. Heading, 90 Tango. Angels, 51. Surface speed, 1.9 kilo. Position 0.1 North, 155 West. Five kerbals on board. Taxi 132-Heelo.”

“Taxi 132-Heelo, KSC Tango Actual. Copy that 2-Heelo. SAR has been alerted. You will have radio blackout in approximately two minutes. We have your radar track. Advise us if there are any status changes.”

“Wilco. And Actual? Make that double-double kirish. Break.” Her voice shifted back to the slightly excited cheerful tone.  “Okay folks. I’m glad you’re strapped in. We’re in for a ride that would make a Kisney E-ticket pale. This will be one to tell the grandkids about.” She laughed in response to something said in the cabin. “Lots of time to find someone for that when we get back. The first round at the Plant will be on me.”

Walt looked over at Jebediah, “Will they make it?”

He didn’t respond. He stared through the far wall of the control centre. His hands had clamped to the railing. His arms trembled trying to drive controls he wasn’t holding. The sound from the speakers dissolved into static.

Later, Walt stood looking out a window of one a Search and Rescue helicopter. He had to push to get on. The co-pilot eventually tossed him a helmet with a curt, “stay out of the way.” He listened to the regular calls to 2-Heelo. Nothing had been heard back from them, yet. He watched hoping he would not see a crater. He feared they would.

“SAR-12, 2-Heelo,” came over the radio. “I copy. We’re all here, just a little bit knocked about. We’re sitting nicely around a campfire.”

“SAR-12, copy that 2-Heelo. Send up a flare when you get a chance. Break. All SAR, SAR-12. We have comm with them. Everyone came down.”

Walt saw the flare out of the corner of his eye. He started to say something, but they were already banking towards it. As they flew over Walt saw only two of the three parachutes were draped over the brushes and ground. The side of 2-Heelo facing up on the ground was heavily scorched.

Someone whistle over the internal channel for the helicopter. “One worthy of Jeb,” someone said.

“Nah,” someone else said. “He would have brought it back unmarked, and on the dot besides.”

Walt looked towards the KSC. Someone had once described Jebediah using the phrase coconuts and chrome steel. Walt wondered again about the truth of that, or if there was a different reason.