Bouncing High Above the World



  Bouncing High Above the World

  Jim Cline

  Copyright 2010 James E. D. Cline

  ISBN: 978-1-4523-5430-9

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  Bouncing High Above the World

  A science fiction short story by Jim Cline

  The rain during this July 2011 at the little Ephrata airport was discouraging to George's Civil Air Patrol aspirations. The rains increasing over the past six years seemed impossible; this airport runway was built during WWII because it was historically an area where there was always sunshine, other than 15 days a year during the winter when there was fog or snow. But there never was rain here; the weather patterns always went around this area. And had remained that way up until a few years back. Up until recently, it could always be counted on as an emergency landing field no matter what the weather was like elsewhere in the country. But this rain now was putting a real damper on his own hopes to go out on a glider flight today, in the middle of the summer.

  There had been a break in the rainy weather, a week before, however; and he had gone out on a ride in one of the gliders based there at the little desert airport. And as they had been coming back in for the landing, he had noticed something odd on the ground. Now that this current training flight had gotten rained out, he resolved to make use of the time. He got his uncle Jerry to bring along a metal detector, and they would go look at the odd patch of ground, located off the end of the runway and to one side of it.

  It was less apparent down here on the ground. But from the air, it was a clear large rectangular shape, a difference in the vegetation types growing there. The rains have been getting things to grow in this desert in a way perhaps never before happening, since the vast flood plain had been left behind after the last of the Ice Age Missoula floods that had rolled rocks big and small past through here all the way from Montana into the Pacific Ocean far beyond at the Oregon coast, starting in the glacier lake dam breaks that happened over there in Missoula.

  The ground here was all like a vast dry river bottom, round tumbled rocks with some sand filled in between them. And little but lichens had lived here for the previous ten thousand years. But some sagebrush and other wind-blown seeded vegetation had been growing here for several years now, in this strangely intense rain. And yet there was this rectangular patch which had much less vegetation on it than the surrounding desert. Why was that, they wondered. It was not an area cleared during the construction of the runway, as it was not continuous with that cleared area.

  The metal detector indicator quickly began registering the presence of metal down underground in that area. The shape of it was long, like the long rectangle; yet it had some lesser indications off to the side of the long metal shape, both at one end and in the middle. "It looks like an airplane," George exclaimed, "but with most of its wings broken off" And two tail fins. But why bury it here?

  Jerry got permission from the airport operator to do some digging there, since it was not where it would interfere with any airport traffic, since this part of the runway had long been decommissioned, as its direction was toward the growing town. So Jerry brought in a bobcat backhoe, and carefully began scooping out the rectangular pattern in the desert vegetation.

  Starting at the end which had the smaller side projections of metal as registered by the metal detector, he had dug only a foot down when he encountered two pieces of metal, which appeared to be the top of a pair of an airplane's vertical tail fins. More carefully he dug further down and found the stabilizer; it indeed was an aluminum aircraft. What a strange way to dispose of an old wreck, they thought. And what kind of plane was it anyway, shaped like that? Continuing to dig, they found a very long fuselage that ended in a quite pointed nose; the cockpit was only a couple small windows blended in with the sleek torpedo shape craft. More digging revealed the wings; but they found the ends were not broken off, they had been built that way, short, wide, and the leading edge swept back. Short stubby yet wide wings. It did not look like any aircraft that they had ever seen. Was it a spaceship from some other planet, George began to wonder. Were there little green Martians inside?

  George was eager to go tell the sheriff and the rest of the local Civil Air Patrol group about the discovery. But Jerry was being oddly slow about agreeing to that. Jerry was being thoughtful; too thoughtful.

  Then the two sat down on the edge of the hole that they had dug, looking at the exposed parts of the strange vehicle, and Jerry began to tell George a story. "Back in WWII there was a militant group here in America who had carefully made plans for when WWII progressed further along, when America would be invaded as soon as Europe was under control by the Germans and the Japanese were ruling the Pacific. Part of that plan was to use this remote airfield, which could always be counted on being available for visual landings no matter what weather, as part of their own plans. Some of that group were hands at the ranch, back then."

  A new kind of aircraft, a rocket plane, would be launched from Germany to the upper atmosphere and coast around the planet bouncing along the upper atmosphere, dropping a bomb somewhere in the world along the way, and return to Germany for another bomb run after the 3.7 hour flight. But some target sites flight paths in the world would not allow a direct return to Germany, so this landing field was to be captured by the militants and used for those aircraft landings; and then those aircraft would be taken by rail over to the Seattle and shipped back to Germany for reuse, while the rest of the world was being pounded into submission by those rocket bombers so high they were invisible.

  And the militants had received a secret message, telling them to get the field ready, in case of need if an aircraft was not able to make it back to Germany, even though this was not yet when such flights were expected to be routine; it was to be a test flight with many unknowns. So be ready anyway, just in case.

  And indeed a rocket bomber had landed here; the pilot, Werner, had come to live at the ranch and had become friends with him, and liked to tell stories. He had thought the stories were just fantasy; but now looking into this pit with the rocket bomber right there, it looked like the stories were true after all.

  Werner's favorite story that he would tell Jerry and the other kids at the ranch, went like this:

  One July morning in 1944 Werner showed up at the airbase in Germany, feeling both excited and apprehensive, for today was to be the first short test flight of the new experimental rocket bomber aircraft. He was to be the very first person to fly it; the mission was to be a full rocket booster launch along the long ramp track, then launch with only a quarter of the bomber's fuel onboard; he was to then glide it around in a circle, coming back to land at the airfield. This would prove out many of the flight systems, enough for the first flight test of a radically new vehicle.

  But entering the briefing room, he noticed faces were more tense than usual. The confident, proud air that was normal at this advanced aircraft facility, had now largely faded into looks of uncertainty yet solid determination. Off in the distance, there were sounds of antiaircraft guns shooting, and big thumps as the American bombers were hitting targets now reaching within 10 miles of here. It looked like they too would soon be hit; and so they had decided to make this first test flight count, their chance to show that they could attack anywhere in the world with impunity; this might force
the Allies to hesitate in their invasion of Germany. As their best test pilot, Werner was going to fly a full mission this first test flight. With a full load of fuel and a bomb aboard.

  Werner asked to know a little more about was expected of him; he had been ready for a daring rocket launch and make a short circle back to land here; the strange looking vehicle had never been in the air before. Something new also to do?

  An hour later he found himself strapped inside the cockpit. He could hardly see out of the tiny cockpit windows in front, although there were windows at his feet too, which now only showed the launch glide rail. He had noticed the huge long cylinder fastened on the back of this aircraft as he entered the aircraft; the long tube was almost as long as his vehicle and clearly was a rocket booster.