Tailspin, page 7
“I’m yours?” I asked, “And there’s no going back?”
“I’m here at the request of an old friend. And pulling more than a few strings for him right now.”
“Tsomak liked me,” I whispered, trying to convince myself this was a good thing. That he wouldn’t have just sent me off to ruin my life or my mother’s if she found out.
I took the data pad and read.
Special Recruitment Request
Immediate placement for Ruslan Korolyov into the SAR 707 Intense Training Program at M-Corp’s Ground School for advancement into Ocean Oil Fields Full Helicopter Pilot Scheme, with installed M-Corp X series tech to be fitted as soon as possible at Rise Hospital.
Cost = Undisclosed
I had no idea what SAR 707 stood for, or X tech. Any tech would add more costs to my debt. And I was sure it was a debt I would have to pay back.
“I have one question,” he said. “Why do you want to fly?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never wanted anything else, from the moment I first saw a helo cross the skies heading to the wall. I wanted that, to be up there, and to help the city any way I could.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” he said.
“Is it going to be hard?” I asked him.
“You’ll be pushed beyond every single limit you think you have and then even further.”
“Will you heal all my injuries?”
“We’ve done what we can here. You’ll be given a full medical workout at Rise. It’s M-Corp’s most prestigious hospital. That includes healing and fixing any damage, broken bones, old or new. You’ll also be retrofitted with the new X HUD system and balancing nite system.”
“I’d imagine that’s quite the cost.”
“Yes, it is. On average, every trainee coming in has already had over a million put into them.”
“A million credits?”
“Yes, they come from the top training facilities around Artem.”
“You’re talking about kids taken at the age of ten, right? I’m six years out of training, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Will you expect me to catch up?”
He just nodded this time.
“What’s the SAR 707?”
“Turn the page,” he said.
I did, and my whole body shivered. There, in full 3D was a helicopter, but not just a helicopter. This was…I tapped the screen, and a 3D image appeared before me. Its details flashed up with it.
SAR 707 - Statistics
GENERAL:
Crew:4 (two pilots, two special mission aviators/aerial gunners)
Capacity:maximum crew six / eight-twelve troops / litters and/or other cargo
Length:64ft 10in (19.76m)
Height:16ft 8in (5.08m)
Empty weight:16,000lb (7,257kg)
Max takeoff weight:22,000lb (9,979kg)
Powerplant:2 ×General Electric - E17-SQ 700 Turboshaft Engines, 1,940shp (1,450kW) each
Main rotor diameter:52ft 8in (16.05m)
Performance
Maximum speed:193kn (222mph, 357km/h)
Cruise speed:159kn (183mph, 294km/h)
Range:324nmi (373mi, 600km)
Ferry range:441nmi (507mi, 817km)
Service ceiling:14,000ft (4,300m)
“Sir,” I said and my hand shook. I steadied it by putting the data pad on the bed. “You think I’m capable of flying this?”
“You tell me,” he said. “Are you?”
“Yes,” I said, needing no conviction there.
He straightened himself up some more. “Yes?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“So, ask away, I’ve time now. But after today I’m out of bounds, and you’ll defer to your superiors. Understand?”
“Yes,” I said. Then I proceeded to ask Lieutenant General Michaels many, many more questions about how far behind I was. How much work I was going to have to do to catch up to the teams he wanted to place me with.
After an hour, silence drifted between us. He shifted in his chair and let out a groan to stand and stretch. I heard his back pop and I flinched. “I’m not getting any younger,” he said.
“No tech?”
“No,” he said. “This is all me, ageing bones and all.”
When he sat back down, he perched on the edge of the seat. “I’m not going to lie to you. This is a lot to take in. Not only are you heading in unprepared, no time at all with military training, you’re severely injured.”
“Every disadvantage in the books, right?”
“And then some.”
I thought about the view up on top of the Duan Leeatre, and how many online credits I’d burned looking over the tech I might need to even think about flying. Here I was now with the opportunity of a lifetime.
My heart pounded, and I fumbled with so many other questions, I couldn’t get anything coherent out of my mouth.
“Slow down,” he said. Then his eyes misted as he ordered something in his HUD.
Moments later, we had food and drinks, and he settled in across from me much more comfortably, his jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up.
8
“Treat me like the idiot I am,” I said. “What does it take to become a helo pilot?”
“Fitness, coordination, intelligence.” He chewed part of a sandwich, while I just stared. “You’ve been racing quite a while?”
“I have, yes. Though, it was nothing legal.”
He shrugged that off. “According to your wins, you process information at speed fast. You have great eye and hand coordination.”
He paused, and I saw something else in his eyes. “You were taught a lot by your biological father, with trips out to the forests and farms. When he passed away, you had your keystone mod installed, then you were taught by your stepfather, who also took you to a local gun range. When your mother pulled you out of school, she home-schooled you with some of the hardest texts I’ve seen for a teen. Everything was trained into you from the get go.”
“Yeah, I’m not military.”
“Military trained, no, but military schooled, by your father, and step-father, yes,” he said with a smile. “Military trained learn how to work together, how to follow orders, how to work within the chain of command. You…well, according to your paperwork, you know what to do, just not when to do it. You look like a troublemaker.”
“I don’t want to be,” I said. “Tell me about the process. What happens when I leave here, healed?”
“Training-wise, you will need to jump right in, so you will be going to Ground School. It’s usually a short two-month course. The current students are not far from starting, and by the time you’ve healed after Rise, there will be only a week remaining.”
“The next class?”
“We have no time for the next class; you need to pass out with this one.”
I swallowed. “How long will I have to catch up?”
“Possibly just a week.” He frowned. “Give or take a day or two, at most.”
“To learn how much?”
“A lot. Once you have the tech in, I’ll make sure you get their current schedule.”
“Which is?”
“All of the basic helo operations manuals, safety procedures, flying procedures, and first flights.”
“Simulations?”
“Yes, of course, Aug-World is the best training facility everyone has. Then you’ll pass a real flight and off to OOF.”
“Cost for the school?”
“We’ll take care of all of it,” he said.
“A lot, though? All of it? How much?” I asked. “I need to know.”
“Some things you can’t put a price on, Rusty.” His face, though stoic, flushed slightly.
“How much, if most have a million credits spent on them before they get to you?”
“Anything from adding five to ten million in tech. Schooling is anything up to another five million.”
No fucking way.
The thought of that cost blew my mind.
I had…I could never…I would never pay that back.
I was signing my life over to them. Possibly forever.
What about my parents? My friends? I’d never see them again, any of them?
All my thoughts blended into one. Into just pure panic.
I knew how much they’d already spent on me; I felt it.
“What do I get out of it?”
“Bar surviving and the career you always wanted?”
“Tsomak?”
He nodded, “Page 71.”
I flicked the page across. I’d have permanent access to Aug-World, never have to worry about credits there if I needed it, 10,000 minutes a month, and a hundred credits a day.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “The pay sucks.”
“You’re lucky you’re getting anything.” His tone was stern, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of his eyes. “We matched your working hours as a runner.”
I hesitated, continued to read on, small print, it was very small. If I died in action… well no one got anything. “What really happens at OOF?”
“You will be expected to work your ass off for this. It is not an easy ride. You’ve picked one of the hardest careers going.”
“Tech?”
“You’ll get what we can give you, mixed tiers what it takes min to get you in the air. It is then up to you to work harder prove your worth and upgrade certain things.”
“Makes sense,” I thought to the prices of the most basic tech, at a hundred credits a day I would be here forever.
“Military life is a lot of waiting around.” He carried on. “We do, however, work closely with our civilian partners. We do train some pure civilian helo pilots, but that is very rare; most of our pilots are taken from our military ranks. Makes things a lot easier. We add in their training to their military training. You won’t be doing half of that. You’re on the civilian side. So mostly you will be expected to learn fast and you’ll have lots of flight time. Our military pilots do part time, three to five hours a week, and it can take them six to eight months to pass out on basic helos, then a month or so for the different specs. You, you’ll be at fifteen to twenty hours flying, and we’re hoping you can pass out as soon as possible.”
“Kind of makes sense.” Silence spread over us as my mind ticked though my options, or rather, no options. “I would be dead without you,” I admitted.
Michaels flicked through his data pad once more to the next relevant page. “Yes, yes, you would be.”
“I’m glad I’m not dead,” I said, and my resolve strengthened. My father, and yes, even Tsomak had all my best interests at heart. They wanted the best for me, both of them.
“I will make you proud,” I whispered to them. “I will.”
Michaels’s eyes never left mine, then said, “You’ve still got an enthusiasm I would not have expected with your pain levels.”
“What does that tell you?” I asked.
“You are going to be trouble with a capital T.”
I swallowed my laugh. “But you’re still offering me a place?”
He put the pad in front of me. “Sign there.”
I looked at it.
This was it.
I had two choices: sign or don’t sign.
Either way, my life would never be the same.
Never.
“If I sign now, I’m going to be whisked away? Taken and put through the most intensive training years of my life?”
He didn’t answer me.
I moved the pad so I could scribble my signature on it with my left hand as best I could. “I’m in.”
He took the pad from me and held his hand out for me, until he realized I couldn’t shake it and swapped to his other so I could. “I look forward to following your advancements,” he said. “Do your family proud.”
“I will,” I replied, then risked. “Can I even talk to them, contact them?”
“We can’t stop you from talking to them. You will need to keep certain things to yourself, though.”
“Most of it.”
“Yes, almost all of it. If you talk to them, keep it simple. You’re okay, you’re doing okay, then ask about them.” I shook his hand. He turned, picked up his jacket, slipped it on, and then dipped his head just before he left. “First Lieutenant Bryd will make sure you’re on your way soon enough. I will see you again, Airman Korolyov.”
Then he was truly gone. I wondered for a moment if I really would see him again.
“Let’s get you moving, airman,” First Lieutenant Bryd said firmly.
“Where to first?”
“Rise, the best M-Corp military hospital there is,” he said. “It’s a fair trek, even in a fast car, so I’ll grab some extra pain relief for you and some drinks for the both of us on the way out.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Welcome.” He moved off while I made myself ready to leave. I doubted I’d ever see any of the people from around here ever again. Bail, Allie, Daisy. Anyone else I knew, even those on the tracks or the job site like Velas and Tae. My neighbors. Everything was changing today, and I’d agreed to it.
Allie ran in, her face flushed. “You’re going with them?” she asked.
“Yes, I am,” I said. “Please tell your brother I hold no ill will, and I hope he and Daisy can recoup their losses. When I can, I’ll send them both something in thanks, and I will miss them.”
“I don’t know what else to say,” she said and waved her hand over my broken body. “They’re going to look after all of that?”
“Yes. Don’t be worrying about me. I will be fine.”
She hugged me gently and when First Lieutenant Bryd came back for me, I followed him out of the room, through the corridors, and then out of the hospital without looking back.
It was heading toward nighttime once again, and a car idled at the end of the small parking lot. I didn’t look back at all as we got in it.
I knew I would never see my mom’s apartment again. Anything I had there was gone, anyway; I had no doubt they’d gone in and stripped it already. There wasn’t even a point in asking to go there to see it. It was better for me to leave and leave now. A full fresh clean start.
I let the hospital and my side of town drift away.
I thought about my future.
The future where I would be flying that SAR 707.
First Lieutenant Bryd didn’t speak much. I guess he was just looking after me, not educating me more. My brain had been pretty overwhelmed, too.
I sat back, letting my head fall against the headrest, and only when he offered me some more pills did I ask, “Do you like what you do?”
“I follow the lieutenant general around.” He smiled at me. “I get to meet some of the most talented youngsters in our city, and then I get to watch them grow. I couldn’t ask for a better job.”
That’s what I needed to hear. “Will I see you again after today?”
“I’ll drop in now and then, looking for intel for the lieutenant general,” he said. “He’s not hands on, but I am. I get to come in and watch certain events, then report in properly without the brushing over of details. That sometimes happens.”
That made a lot of sense, especially if some were fudging numbers. I mean, how many cheats had I come across in my years on the streets? Lots.
“I’d like that. To see you again.”
He smiled, genuinely. “I’ll leave you my personal HUD ID. You can, in extreme emergencies, request my or the lieutenant general’s attention, but I will stress that it has to be life or death. Do not abuse it.”
“I won’t,” I said. “I like to stand on my own two feet. I don’t want sympathy.”
“Yes, I can see that. So did the lieutenant general. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure with your medical notes.”
“Oh?” I hadn’t seen them; I had no idea what was going on with me at the moment. Pain, sure. That was obvious.
“Should I look?”
“You should, yes. You need to know how much you can and have pushed yourself.” He handed me a data pad, which I took, then began reading my injury report.
I’d dislocated and relocated my shoulder, and there was tendon damage and muscle damage as a result. I had one clean break to my upper arm and three breaks to my lower. There were many fractures noted in my wrist and fingers. I knew that was the worst of the damage. It would take a lot of work to fix everything, and likely a lot of money.
My internal injuries were where things got complicated fast. I had severe damage to multiple organs. My whole gut was bloodied and bruised.
“Technically, you shouldn’t be alive.”
“How am I?” I asked.
“That’s going to be for our medical staff to work out,” he said. “Honestly, it’s because you’re still alive when you should be dead that I managed to persuade him to let you in.”
“The pain is horrendous.”
“I bet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone walking around with just half of your injuries. Even accounting for the survival pack you had installed.”
“You think I have something special?”
“Yes, I do.” First Lieutenant Bryd nodded. “Add to that your reflexes, intelligence, and last aptitude tests. You are someone to watch.”
I put the data pad down, and he took it back.
“Your blood results are weird, too,” he admitted. “Elevated nite levels, but none of them have ever been activated. I think our docs will get those sorted for you first, then add in their tech and a few other things. You’ll be in full fighting form before anyone else can even blink.”
“How long do you think all of this, this next stage, will take?” I asked.
“The operations will be first. You’ll spend twenty-four hours in surgery.”
Twenty-four hours, what the fuck were they putting in me? “What tech?” I asked.
I thought I saw a smile then, and Bryd picked the data pad up and put something else on the screen then passed it to me again.
I looked.
Brain Mod - X1
Tier: Three
M-Corp’s Xenith Series - X1- Created by J R Fraser
