Chapter 365 - 358 — The Big Guys

Malen was gathering the blueprints and clutching them beneath one arm when two knocks sounded at the door.

Lucien looked up from the ledger Lucas had placed before him.

"Come in."

A guard entered, bowed, and approached the desk with a message.

"What is it?"

"An invitation from Skyforge, my lord."

"An invitation for what?"

"Master Gandalf simply said, ’The big guys are ready,’ my lord."

"Oh."

Lucien set down his pen. The smile spreading across his face was enough to make Lucas close the ledger.

"See, my lord? We have barely finished paying for the trenches."

"These were paid for months ago."

"Most of them, my lord but there is usually something they remember after we arrive."

Malen glanced between them before shifting to the drawings beneath his arm.

"The aircraft are ready, my lord?"

"It appears so. Are you coming?"

"Yes, my lord. I can read these on the train."

Lucas tucked his ledger beneath his arm as well.

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you had finished."

"I am preparing for what they remember, my lord."

By the time they reached Skyforge, the afternoon sun had warmed the runway outside the hangars. Mechanics were removing ladders and wheeled platforms from beneath two enormous aircraft. A man carrying a checklist hurried after a crewman who had already started climbing toward the cockpit.

Lucien slowed when he stepped into full view of the bomber.

Its broad wings stretched above the workers, with three engine housings beneath each one. Sunlight ran along the riveted fuselage and flashed across the framed glass of the cockpit. Below it, the bombardier’s compartment occupied the nose, while turrets guarded the upper body, underside, flanks, and tail.

The influence of the B-17 and B-29 remained recognizable to him. He had borrowed their arrangement of crew stations, internal bomb bays, and distributed defensive guns when shaping the proposal. Skyforge’s engines and magical additions had carried those ideas well beyond the aircraft he remembered from Earth.

Beside it stood the escort, with four engines beneath each wing. Its additional turrets had already been uncovered, exposing the three barrels of each Vulcan Aerie.

Gandalf hovered a hand’s breadth above the paving between the aircraft. His long white beard hung almost to the ground and stirred whenever a mechanic hurried past.

Brakka and Ironbreaker stood beneath the bomber’s wing. One was wiping his hands while the other was munching on a piece of bread.

"The big guys?" Lucien asked as he approached.

Gandalf spread one hand toward the aircraft.

"It is the only title worth of them, my lord."

"At last, my lord," Ironbreaker said, putting the bread away. "They have kept us here since breakfast."

"We offered you porridge," Gandalf replied.

"Oh that was porride but with how easily my spoon bent. I assumed it was a sample from the foundry."

Brakka laughed, then glanced at gandalf beard swaying beside him.

"Old man, what would happen if I set that beard alight?"

"Every mug of beer you lifted for the next year would turn to water."

Brakka stopped smiling.

"You vicious bastard. I was asking a theoretical question."

"And I was giving a theoretical answer."

Ironbreaker shook his head.

"Leave him alone. A man who refuses to put his feet on the ground cannot be trusted to fight fairly."

Lucien was still laughing when Maerath joined them with a board. Ink stained one cuff, and his hair looked as though he had repeatedly pushed it back with dirty hands.

"I suggested a proper invitation."

"And he came," Gandalf said.

Maerath gave up and turned toward Lucien.

"The crews are completing their checks, my lord. We have time to show you the additions."

Lucien walked beneath the wing and rested his palm against an engine housing. He remembered the first drawings spread across a crowded desk, with objections written along nearly every margin.

The engines had needed more power. The workshops had needed better machinery. They had needed crews capable of bringing such an aircraft home.

Now a mechanic was rolling the final platform away from beneath it.

"You have done well," Lucien said.

Maerath’s grip tightened around his board.

"Let us finish the trial before you decide that, my lord."

"Have you slept?"

"Enough to recognize the question, my lord."

Gandalf chuckled, but Lucien noticed that he was watching the crews almost as closely as Maerath.

"What are we carrying today?"

"The full twenty-five tons of bombs on this one, my lord. The handling flights with ballast are complete. Today we test the search equipment and bomb delivery together."

Maerath led them beneath the fuselage and pointed toward the closed bay doors.

"The six engines draw power from their mana cores. Eight Vulcan Aerie turrets provide the bomber’s own defense. The escort carries twelve turrets and eight engines, with the bomb space given over to ammunition and the equipment needed to sustain its guns as you asked."

Malen looked toward the second aircraft.

"It can remain with the bomber throughout the flight?"

"That is what it was built to do," Gandalf replied.

Ironbreaker put his hand against the nearest engine mounting.

"And the engines now agree with one another, my lord. Brakka became rather unpleasant before we managed that."

"I became unpleasant because the readings kept disagreeing."

"You threatened an engine with a hammer."

"And then we found the fault."

Lucien smiled before looking beneath the nose.

"I heard you made some inventions regarding our detection equipment?"

Maerath pointed to a recessed crystal assembly.

"This array searches for heat and demonic energy, my lord. We can use the heat of bodies, working machinery, or fires to help locate a concentration on the ground."

"And how does the bombardier see what it has found?"

"That required another invention, my lord."

Maerath brought them to a worktable beneath the wing. A crystal plate enclosed in a brass frame rested beside several instruments.

"This is a duplicate of the one fitted at his station."

He touched a rune along the frame. A rectangular pane of pale light appeared above the crystal.

Lucas looked from it to Maerath.

"I assume this ’another invention’ will appear somewhere in my next ledger."

Brakka chuckled while Maerath activated the demonstration markings. Amber points appeared across the pane, followed by several violet ones.

"The projection plate turns the array’s readings into something the operator can follow, my lord. Amber shows heat. Violet shows detected demonic energy. The marks move as their positions change relative to the aircraft."

Lucien leaned closer. When Maerath selected an amber point, a ring appeared around it.

"That keeps his target marked?"

"Yes, my lord. He compares its position with what he can see through the nose and gives the pilot corrections."

"And if smoke hides the ground?"

"The heat detector can still pick out the sources through smoke, my lord. The bombardier may lose his view through the glass while the formation remains visible as heat marks on the magical display."

Lucien looked toward the violet points.

"How reliable is the demonic reading?"

"That is harder to obtain, my lord. A weak signature may be too faint to distinguish even when the heat reading is clear."

"So the absence of a violet mark proves nothing."

"Correct, my lord. Heat helps us find a target, but it cannot tell us whose soldiers we have found."

Malen studied the projection.

"Then they still need reports of where our own forces are operating."

"Yes. The display helps them locate and follow a target. The crew still has to decide whether it is the right one."

Brakka tapped the frame.

"We also had to isolate this from the engine vibration, my lord. The first mounting shook the marks so badly that the operator asked whether he was supposed to bomb the target or chase it."

"And must a mage remain aboard to operate it?" Lucien asked.

"A mage calibrates the array before departure, my lord," Maerath replied. "After that, the apparatus presents the readings. The bombardier uses the controls to adjust the view and select what he wants to follow."

He extinguished the demonstration and lifted his board.

"For today’s trial, the range crew has placed targets among the dummy positions. Smoke pots will obscure part of the field during the approach. The crew knows the trial boundaries, but not the exact placement of every target."

Lucien nodded.

"Good. Let us see whether it works as well in the air."

Malen glanced toward the escort as they left the table.

"And the other aircraft uses the same arrangement?"

"The projection plates are similar," Gandalf replied. "Its detection array watches the surrounding airspace.Once the crew selects a target, the tracking enchantment follows it and passes its position to the turrets that can engage."

"Does it keep the target when it moves behind the aircraft?"

"It passes the track to the next gun positions. Several turrets can follow separate attackers, and the gunners retain control of firing."

Ironbreaker nodded toward the nearest three-barrel mounting.

"The Vulcan Aerie already throws enough metal into the air, my lord. The improvement is helping the crew put it where it is needed."

"You will see that in the second trial," Gandalf added, looking toward Lucien. "First, we test the bombs."

A pilot was climbing the ladder toward the bomber’s cockpit.

"Renner," Lucien called.

The man stopped and looked down.

"My lord?"

"Bring my aircraft back."

Renner glanced along the enormous fuselage.

"I was rather hoping to come back with it, my lord."

Renner settled into the left seat and tightened his seat belts. Beside him, Dalen checked his own fastening before laying the flight sheet on his knee.

Through the forward glass, a ground marshal stood beyond the bomber’s nose. The wheel blocks remained in place, and the last mechanic was moving clear of the engines.

Dalen looked toward Renner.

"Shall I request permission to start?"

Renner listened as the remaining crew stations confirmed they were ready.

"Go ahead."

Dalen touched the communication crystal.

"Skyforge Control, Bomber One requests permission to start engines."

"Bomber One, permission granted. The ground crew is clear."

Renner turned toward Harl, the flight engineer seated behind them.

"Begin the checks."

Harl examined his instruments before reaching for the first control.

"Core supply is stable. Starting engine one."

A low whine rose beneath the left wing. It climbed until Renner could feel the vibration through the soles of his boots.

"Engine one is running. Temperature and pressure are steady."

"Start the second."

The next engine added its voice. Harl watched its readings settle before continuing through the remaining four.

At the observation pavilion, Lucien felt the growing roar through the runway. Mechanics stood behind the marked line, watching the aircraft they had spent months assembling. One had folded his arms so tightly that his knuckles showed white against his sleeves.

"Ground this is Bomber one,all six engines are stable," Harl reported.

Renner checked the ground marshal’s signal.

"We will take them to full power one at a time."

With the aircraft secured and the other engines running, he advanced the first throttle. The bomber strained against its restraints, and Dalen felt the vibration deepen through his seat.

Harl leaned toward the instruments.

"Engine one is steady at full power."

Renner eased it back before bringing up the second.

They continued through the engines in order. Dalen checked each result against his sheet, although he scarcely noticed the sweat gathering beneath his collar.

When the sixth engine returned to its lowest setting, Harl looked up.

"All engines have passed initial caliberation."

Dalen released a breath.

Renner glanced sideways.

"You may continue doing that during the flight."

"Breathing?"

"It is generally encouraged."

The copilot smiled and reached for the crystal.

"Skyforge Control, engine checks complete. Request permission to taxi."

"Permission granted. Follow the marked route and hold before the runway."

The restraints and wheel blocks were removed. The marshal signaled, then stepped clear as Renner released the brakes.

The bomber began to move.

From the pavilion, its progress looked slow until it passed a waiting service wagon. The wing stretched far beyond the wagon’s canvas roof, and the driver leaned back to follow it.

Lucas closed his ledger.

Malen noticed it but said nothing.

At the runway, Dalen collected the final crew reports.

"All stations are secured. Flight controls checked. Bomb load secured."

Renner looked along the empty strip.

"Request takeoff."

"Skyforge Control, Bomber One is ready. Request permission to take off."

"Bomber One, you are cleared for takeoff."

Dalen repeated the clearance while Renner brought the six engines up together.

Their roar rolled across the airfield. Harl watched the readings rise, then settle.

"All six are delivering full power."

Renner released the brakes.

The aircraft accelerated, pressing Dalen into his seat. Runway markings slipped beneath the nose, passing faster with each call from the copilot.

At the pavilion, Brakka had twisted his wiping cloth into a tight rope. Maerath leaned forward without realizing it.

Lucien followed the aircraft until the bomber’s nose began to rise.

For a moment, the main wheels continued racing along the runway. Then they lifted, and the aircraft climbed beyond the end of the runway.

A mechanic cheered followed several others.

Ironbreaker clapped Brakka on the shoulder.

"All six stayed steady."

Brakka nodded, still watching the bomber. Only when it began its turn did he look down at the cloth in his hands.

Inside the cockpit, Dalen checked their climb.

"We are clear,the climb is steady."

"Raise the landing gear."

The mechanism worked beneath them with a heavy vibration. Dalen watched the indicators and confirmed that the wheels were up.

Renner adjusted the aircraft into its climb and allowed himself a small smile.

"Now let us see what she does with the bombs."

Maerath led the observers around the pavilion’s central table. A larger version of the new projection plate had been built into its surface.

When he activated it, an image of the northern trial field spread above the table.

"This receives images from observation spells positioned near the range, my lord," he explained. "The bombardier’s plate shows his detector’s markings. This one lets us watch what happens on the ground."

The target field lay beyond sight from the airfield. Through the magical display, however, they could distinguish rows of wooden figures, empty wagons, rough shelters, and several stone buildings.

Along one side, smoke was beginning to drift across the positions.

Gandalf checked the range officer’s message.

"The personnel have withdrawn, my lord. The field is clear."

While the bomber climbed toward the range, the escort received its takeoff clearance. Its eight engines roared, drawing several heads around. It lifted from the runway and turned toward its assigned waiting area, clear of the bombing approach.

Malen returned his attention to the projected field.

"How much of it will the smoke cover?"

"Enough to hide those shelters," Maerath said, pointing. "The operator will have to find it with the array."

Far above the range, Teral bent over his station in the bomber’s nose.

Amber points were appearing on the magical pane above the crystal plate. He checked them against the ground visible through the glass, then adjusted the projection.

Smoke was spreading across the far side of the trial field. The shelters beneath it faded from view, but a cluster of amber marks remained.

Teral leaned closer.

The marks were steady.

He had practiced with the equipment until his hands knew the controls. Nevertheless, he wiped one palm against his trouser leg before touching the selector.

Renner’s voice came through the crew link.

"Teral, report."

"The search array is operating. I have heat signatures inside the trial boundary."

"Can you see the targets?"

"The smoke is covering part of the fiels but the heat signatures crystal clear."

Renner glanced toward Dalen.

"Request permission to commence bombing."

The copilot touched the crystal.

"Range Control, Bomber One is approaching the trial area. Request permission to commence the bombing run."

At the pavilion, the control officer looked toward Lucien.

"Proceed."

The officer relayed the clearance.

"Bomber One, you are cleared to commence the bombing run."

Dalen repeated the order. Renner steadied the aircraft while Teral brought the selected group into the center of his projected view.

"Acquiring targets."

The bombardier checked their position against the trial boundaries once more. Several heat marks lay beside the shelters; others extended along the wagon track.

He selected the concentration.

"Targets acquired. The main group is marked."

"Give me the approach," Renner said.

Teral called a correction. The aircraft turned slightly, and the ringed group shifted toward the center of his view.

"That is good. Hold this course."

"Noted."

Teral moved his hand to the bay controls.

"Opening bomb-bay doors in three, two, one."

He pulled the lever.

A heavy mechanical rumble passed through the fuselage as the long doors separated. Air rushed around the open bays, adding a deeper vibration beneath the steady engine noise.

Teral checked the indicators.

"Bomb-bay doors are open."

At the pavilion, Maerath’s thumb pressed hard against the edge of his board. Gandalf had stopped smiling.

Through the bomber’s nose, Teral could see little of the selected group beyond the drifting smoke. On the magical pane, the amber returns remained clear.

He watched their progress and held his hand against the release control.

"Keep her steady."

Renner made a small adjustment.

"She is steady."

Teral pressed.

"Bombs away!"

The first bombs dropped from the open bays. More followed, separating beneath the aircraft in a long procession of dark shapes.

Renner felt the changing load and adjusted as the release continued. Behind him, Harl checked the engines while Dalen watched their course.

Teral followed the bay indicators until the final one cleared.

"Load released. The bays are empty."

"Close the doors."

Below them, the first bombs struck the near side of the target field.

BOOM! BOOM!

Earth leaped above the wooden figures. A line of blasts crossed the wagon track, throwing one wagon onto its side before another explosion swallowed it.

The next impacts struck among the shelters.

KA-BOOM!

A roof lifted from its supports and broke apart in the air. Timber spun through the smoke while fresh eruptions tore into the ground behind it.

On the viewing table, the central buildings vanished beneath overlapping clouds of earth and broken stone.

Lucien’s hand tightened against the table edge.

The last bombs fell across the heated target group. Smoke rolled outward under the blasts, briefly exposing a collapsing shelter before dust covered it again.

At his station, Teral checked the door indicators.

"Bomb-bay doors are closed. The release is complete."

Renner began the turn away from the range.

"Dalen, report that we are clear."

The copilot passed the message to control, then looked toward Renner with a grin he could no longer suppress.

Renner answered it briefly before returning his attention to the aircraft.

They still had to bring her home.

The sound of the bombardment reached the pavilion as a low, prolonged thunder.

Lucas rested his ledger on the table without opening it. Ironbreaker had forgotten the bread in his pocket. Brakka leaned toward the projected field until Gandalf caught his sleeve and drew him back far enough for the others to see.

Dust covered most of the camp.

As it thinned, the wagon track reappeared in broken sections between craters. Pieces of roofing lay across the ground. The wooden figures beside the shelters had been knocked down or buried, and the heated target group was obscured by collapsed timber.

One of the stone buildings still had part of a wall standing. Another had lost its roof and most of its front.

Malen pointed toward the near edge of the destruction.

"The first bombs fell short of the main group."

Maerath nodded.

"We will measure the spread once the range crew can inspect it. The central part of the release crossed the selected targets."

Lucien looked at him.

"And the readings through the smoke?"

Maerath spoke into the crystal, waited for Teral’s answer, and checked the reported positions against the range plan.

"The heat marks remained clear throughout the approach, my lord. He found the group we concealed."

Some of the tension left his face as he said it.

Gandalf rested a hand briefly on his shoulder.

"Well done."

The crystal sounded again.

"Bomber One to control. All engines are steady. The aircraft is responding normally. We are proceeding back to landing"

A cheer rose from the mechanics behind the pavilion.

One man slapped another’s back hard enough to make him stumble. An older machinist stood with his cap pressed between his hands, smiling toward the sky. Brakka finally released his grip on the cloth.

Lucien looked from them to the ruined target field.

Malen remained beside the projection.

"My lord, a formation preparing to advance could suffer heavily before it ever reached our positions or even during its journey."

"That is why we built it."

The commander studied the destroyed wagons for another moment.

"And its escort needs to keep it alive long enough to arrive."

Before Lucien could answer, another voice came through the communication crystal.

"Escort One is in the holding area. Request permission to begin the defensive trial."

Gandalf straightened and took the crystal from the control officer.

"My lord?"

Lucien stepped back from the table.

"Let us see the other half of your work."

Gandalf raised the crystal.

"Escort One, enter the trial area."