Saucer: The Conquest

front of his plane in a leather coat, his hands in his pockets; Albert Ball in profile, only nineteen, in the cockpit of his Nieuport; the wild man, Frank Luke, with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the lower wing of a Spad; Mick Mannock bending down to pat a dog… ahh, and Billy Bishop seated in a Nieuport, with his head turned, looking at the camera.

She wiped at her tears, trying to see clearly. Bishop's eyes bored into hers. Bishop, the consummate aerial warrior, was the only one of the group to die of old age. Seventy-two confirmed kills, Billy, and you lived with every one of them the rest of your days.

So was she feeling sorry for the men she killed, or for herself?

'Are you the saucer pilot?'

Charley Pine looked up. The questioner was a girl, perhaps ten years old, with yellow hair pulled back in pigtails. 'Yes,' Charley said. 'I'm the pilot.'

'Why are you crying?'

Charley was sitting in a chair with her legs drawn up in the office off the main hangar floor, amid a dozen desks, each holding a computer and printer. The walls were lined with filing cabinets. She swabbed at her eyes. 'People do, you know. Cry sometimes.'

'Sometimes it helps,' the girl said, very grown up.

Charley used the sleeves of her flight suit to dry her eyes, then tried to smile. It was a miserable effort, she thought.

The girl took a chair nearby. 'I'm Amanda. I'm eight.'

'Charley.'

'That's a funny name for a girl.'

'It's actually Charlotte. My dad started calling me Charley because I was a tomboy, and it stuck.'

'I like being a girl,' Amanda said.

'I do too.'

'Boys are so icky.'

'Sometimes,' Charley agreed, and hugged her legs.

'What's it like to fly the saucer?'

'Sometimes it's pretty cool. Other times…'

'I mean, what's it really like?' Amanda leaned forward, her eyes shining. 'When you go zooming up and fly off into space and see the world from way out there, with a billion stars shining and the moon so bright and the sun hanging there on fire.'

'Way cool,' Charley admitted, remembering.

'Tell me.'

Charley searched for words, which had never been her long suit. She could fly it and live it and savor it, but she had never tried to tell anyone about it, except for one female reporter, who turned out to be more interested in Charley's sex life than her flying experiences.

Looking at Amanda, she started talking. She told about the G forces, the rush of acceleration with empty heaven ahead, the way the sky turned dark as the saucer climbed above the atmosphere, how the clouds looked from twenty, fifty, a hundred miles high looking down. She explained about the oceans, the million shades of blue, the mountains with snow, windstorms over the deserts, cities twinkling at night… told it to Amanda with the shining eyes.

Rip bent down and kissed Charley's cheek. 'Hey there, lady. How you doing?'

'Visiting with Amanda.'

'I see you met my granddaughter,' a man said from behind Charley. She turned to see who it was. The president.

'She's going to be a pilot,' Charley Pine replied, winking at Amanda.

'They're going to install the water tank, get us some new clothes and underwear and provide some MREs.' MREs were Meals, Ready to Eat. 'Can you think of anything else?'

'A couple cases of water to drink, and I want two flight suits with an American flag on the shoulder. I'm tired of wearing this French flight suit.'

'Done,' the president said.

'Uhh,' Rip said, leaning close and whispering. 'While they're getting bladder tanks ready to install, the president wondered if you could give him and Amanda a ride in the saucer. You know, sort of an out and in to see the sights and stuff. Will you?'

Charley Pine winked at Amanda. 'Want to try it?'

'Sure,' the youngster replied. 'If you're going to fly it. I only ride with women pilots.'

'She's a true believer,' said the president, grinning broadly, and rumpled the girl's hair.

'Let's put some water in it and light the fires,' Charley said. She led the way out into the hangar bay. The hangar door was already open. Through it she could see the dawn.

Suspecting that Andrews Air Force Base had its share of neighbors who complained about noise and wanting to go easy on her passengers, Charley Pine used the rocket engines sparingly after takeoff. Amanda sat on her lap, the president stood on her left, and Rip stood in his customary place on her right. Rip had briefed the president about hanging on; each man had a death grip on the underside of the instrument panel and the back of Charley's seat.

Once over the Chesapeake, Charley pulled the nose up to thirty degrees above the horizon and tweaked on more juice.

She was flying with just the headband, using both arms to hold Amanda.

The saucer soared through forty thousand feet, now fifty. The morning sky darkened; the rim of the earth became a vivid, unbroken line. She gently banked the saucer, let the nose fall to the horizon and reduced the rockets' thrust until they became a murmur behind her.

Here the spaceship was safely above the airliners, and above the high cirrus layer that was coming in from the west. In that direction the cloud formed a bright, gauzy sheet between earth and sky, almost luminescent in the morning sun. Charley Pine thought the sky very beautiful. Gorgeous in all its moods, she reminded herself.

Charley glanced at Rip. He was grinning widely. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Rip, Rip, Rip, you are the one.

The president was also smiling. 'Thank you,' he told her. 'And you, Rip.'

She looked for the moon, then remembered that it was below the horizon at this time of day.

Enough. Pierre was waiting, with his plans for world conquest.

She silenced the rocket engines and let the nose drop toward the earth below.

As THE SHIP CAME DOWN THE POTOMAC, AMANDA WAS full of giggles and comments. She entertained the adults royally with her observations and her mood. 'I'm going to be a saucer pilot when I grow up,' she announced.

'You go, girl,' Charley said, and the men seconded her.

Charley flew the saucer straight into the open hangar and set it on the concrete. As Rip opened the hatch, someone handed up a message for the president. He read it, then handed it to Charley.

Golden Gate and Bay Bridge in San Francisco destroyed. Artois demands your answer. On the next pass he will reduce Washington to rubble, he says, unless the United States surrenders.

'Time to go back to work,' the president said sadly, and read the message aloud. He looked at Charley, then Rip, searching their faces. 'If you can destroy the other saucer or render it inoperative, Pierre Artois and his friends will be marooned up there. I think they'll listen to reason then. This saucer will be their only ride home, and we've got it.'

'We're going to the moon to get Egg,' Rip said.

The president opened his mouth to reply, thought better of it and slapped them both on the shoulder. He turned to his granddaughter.

'Say good-bye, Amanda. I've got to go to work. These folks need to get some food and sleep while the mechanics work on the saucer.'

He shook hands with both of them and pushed Amanda toward the hatch. When they were all standing in