The Chuckinater and Sy: Thank you! I'm always glad to hear that!
Yori Micah: Yes, I do try my best in that regard!
Captain Bones: That's right! Thank you for your support; I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!
Now, then. Hello, all! It's been quite a while, hasn't it? Well, that's because I spent exactly two months writing chapter one of The Tempian Experiment: Manifest Destiny. If you think you might be interested, check it out at TheOtherLeolu! But, at last, here's the Warfox you've been waiting for!
The insufficiency of technology in this time period posed quite a problem; computers were just big calculators, and airplanes were almost purely mechanical. The changes I wanted to make to my plane was not mechanical, but electronic. If the crew I was given was to be of any help, they would need to learn at least the basics of computer science… but how could I teach someone with no concept of a modern computer such a thing?
In a reluctant attempt to accomplish this, I took my laptop from under the pilot's seat of the plane and powered it on. When the screen lit up, no one said a word: they only stared.
"Here's the basics of computers. You give the computer an input," I said, gesturing to the keyboard, "and it'll produce an output that's derived from the input. And computers don't infer: they strictly follow the input. Questions so far?"
There was silence for a moment, but a question did arise. "Why… How's it so small?"
"Uh… You know… Technology get more compact, more efficient over time."
Another person spoke, sounding less reluctant than the other. "What kind of stuff does it do?"
"Well, an output can be either information or action. There are devices that can receive information from a computer and perform whatever mechanical action it's told."
"How does all this work? On the inside, I mean," someone else asked.
"Not important. I'm about to start teaching you all what you need to know." What did they need to know? The programming language? No. There was only one computer, and I'd be using it. Besides, that'd take months! What would they even be helping me with? I had mostly planned out everything I wanted to do, so the crew I was given was pretty useless. Just then, as if reading my mind, Victoria raised a question.
"What are we doing? Are we replacing parts? Adding something?" I rubbed my chin, then decided to tell the truth.
"I don't know. The only mechanical change I want is to add-" I suddenly realized just how many obstacles I faced in this endeavour. Many of the parts I needed were electronic and probably didn't exist, and I couldn't just make them in a timely fashion. Did I just hit a dead end? I sighed. "Give me a minute… I need to rethink some things…"
So what am I here for? I wanted to make changes to my plane in order to… be able to pick off targets without harming its surroundings, right? That's what I needed when I first found that death camp. And then I told Chief Dill. And he said there was nothing that could be done. And then… Oh, yeah! I offered to defend a flight into German territory, but needed to advance my plane's dogfighting capabilities; I had totally forgotten that on the way here!
"Got it!" I shut the computer and faced everyone. "We're gonna make some adjustments—and they're all mechanical!"
x
The next week was much more simple—and possible—than I initially feared. Like I said, there was no electronic work to be done: we only widened the wings and the fuselage a bit to improve its aerobatics and increase its ammunition capacity. This would sacrifice a little speed, but I had plenty of that.
That being said, the job was completed. And before I could even call everyone by name, our time was over. Formalities were said, but no one seemed genuinely saddened by my leaving. That was the way I preferred partings to be.
x
I took a test flight over the east coast of the US. It flew differently than before, of course, but there were no problems with it. I did several flips and found them to be much easier to perform. All in all, everything went right. That was my queue to head back to Britain.
x
As I entered British skies, I was met with a familiar reception: I was asked to identify myself, I did, and I was welcomed. I landed at my temporary home base, where I was greeted by Benson, my "caretaker." He told me that the chief was elsewhere, as he was not anticipating my arrival. I dismissed this concern and headed straight to my room. Inside, I found the AI notes I'd left behind and, with a sigh of relief, stored them in the plane for safekeeping.
What to do now? I asked myself. If the cord wanted to meet with me, then it would be a day or two until then. Perhaps there was a general nearby who would have a message for me, or something. But was there a general nearby? Regardless, someone had to be running the place. I decided to finally take the time to wander about the place. The camp hosted several shed-like buildings and watchtowers, and the area was surrounded by a fence several meters tall. It was obviously some sort of prison… at some point. The barren, decrepit buildings, unoccupied cells, and empty watchtowers told me that the place was abandoned.
After a bit more exploration, I found Benson lounging in some sort of break room. He wasn't the only other person here, was he? He smiled when he noticed me, but a long beep sounded from another room before he could say anything. He stepped out to check on out, and reemerged moments later with a short, stiff piece of paper in hand.
"Message for you, from Chief Dill," he said. "Um… I'm very glad to hear of your return. After careful consideration, I've decided to accept your request. In order to assemble a small fleet of transport planes, as you suggested, we need permission from the Marshall of the Royal Air Force, Charles Portal. Before that, he wishes to meet with you, so please report to the London military headquarters as soon as possible. Best regards, Chief of General Staff John Dill."
x
Less than fifteen minutes later, I was landing at the aforementioned location: the place I first met Dill, I recalled. Just as had happened several times before, officers met me in the hangar and escorted me away. They were probably two of the several who had met me before; they were totally calm, but a bit unnerved. They led me someplace far into the building and left when we reached a particular door. Forgetting to knock, I entered and found two men sitting at a table, apparently arguing.
"-and as I mentioned last Monday, chemical warfare is entirely justified wh- Oh, Power! Afternoon," Chief Dill greeted.
"Afternoon," I returned. He gestured to me.
"This is Ace Miles Prower. Prower, this is Marshall of the Royal Air Force Charles Portal."
"Nice to meet you," said Portal. He didn't seem at all phased by my presence, only intrigued. Perhaps Dill had told him about me beforehand.
"Nice to meet you." Dill tacitly offered for me to sit with a gesture; I did.
"Let's get started," said Portal, grinning widely. "Where are you from?"
I glanced at Dill. 'Truth,' he mouthed. I nodded. "I'm from the future. I'm not sure how far, but it's at least two thousand years."
Portal laughed. "So Einstark's time-physics stuff is true, eh? I guess I'll believe you—I don't have a better idea of where you're from!"
And so began his lighthearted interrogation of my life and air experience. Dill left the room shortly into it, finding himself no longer needed. After fifteen short minutes, he ran out of things to ask, so he finally ceded what I was after.
"Alright… As you probably know, the Chief wants to put you in charge of an aerial invasion. I'm not a fan of the idea, but I'll give you one squadron—twelve planes—to work with. How's that sound?" I gave him my widest smile, and he took that as my answer. "Good. Tell Dill they'll be ready by the end of today."
I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sir! Thank you!"
x
By the end of the day, there were indeed twelve fully crewed and stocked transport planes and one hundred twenty men on standby for me. We would set out tomorrow.
I know there wasn't any action this chapter, but there will be plenty in either the next or the one after. I'll be working on chapter two of Manifest Destiny now, and hopefully it won't take two months to write. See you then!