Fallout - Cyclics and Surprises
#4 of Fallout
I set my mind to the physical therapy as if my life depended on it. I couldn't remember being this focused on something before now. It was as if a new drive and determination had woken in me, pushing me forward.
Most of my time was spent at the pool, even when I wasn't with the trainers. Sometimes I would just walk back and forth along the wall in the shallow end for over an hour. The water made my body buoyant, so less weight was placed on my weakened leg muscles, and the resistance helped build them back. More than that, it was soothing and gave me time to just think, and get out of bed.
Both Dr. Hall and the trainers were astonished with how much progress I had made in such little time. I said it was because I couldn't stand the hospital room, which was partly true, but to me it seemed as if it all was coming back naturally. Even the exercises seemed familiar. I had picked up swimming in next to no time and had been caught by Dr. Hall on the climbing wall in the gym.
She was afraid I was going to over exert myself but I felt that I knew my limitations. Each day I could go further, do more, and do it better. When I was working out, everything seemed to make sense, my mind was clear, and I felt relaxed. Back in the room, I would be uneasy and get terrible headaches. Sleep also brought little peace of mind. My nights were filled with strange dreams. More and more often though, the dreams felt like reality, like they were a part of my life. Unfortunately, come morning, I could still remember only fragments, and no details.
After only two weeks, Dr. Hall disbelievingly stated that I was clear to check out, under the condition I don't do anything too strenuous for another three weeks. She said that my body had exceptional regenerative properties. Unnatural almost. I walked outside, still astonished by the amount of freedom, as well as increase in height, I had. I leaped down the stairs in front of the hospital, turning embarrassedly to see Dr. Hall's disapproving face in the front door. Jaimie, who had met me in the lobby, walked down the steps with much more dignity. I had to resist skipping to the bus stop.
"Xavier, calm down a little," she said laughing, "You're like a kitten."
I obliged and, taking her arm in mine, walked at her side.
"I'm going to have to get used to how tall you are now."
"Well, I may have to look down at you now, but I will never look down on you," I replied giving Jaimie a big hug, lifting her into the air. "If it wasn't for your support, I'd still be in that wheel chair."
"You just be careful. Don't hurt yourself, or you'll end up back in it."
We rode the bus together back to Fairchild. I was in an extremely good mood. Not even the sight out of the corner of my eye of a hare wearing black sunglasses, and watching me from a white sedan could darken my day.
The next morning brought warm temperatures and clear skies. I got up before Jaimie, showered and headed to the kitchen. When she walked in, still in her pj's, around six, I was making coffee and getting a couple eggs out to fry.
"You're up early," she said groggily as I handed her a mug full of the hot dark elixir.
"Sorry, I'm still on hospital time. Why don't you get ready for work and I'll have breakfast ready."
Ten minutes later Jaimie returned in her outfit for work. She was wearing grey slacks, the sky blue company polo, and a leather jacket with her helicopter pilot's wings on the left breast. She looked at the food I had on the table and then at me with one eyebrow raised.
"You've been in a good mood lately."
"Yeah, I noticed that too. I feel like, I don't know, like life is going to change. I figure if it is, I may as well start with the most important person in my life, you."
Jaimie appeared flattered by my comment. She looked as if she was about to reply when her phone chimed. She tapped the screen, her eyes flitting back and forth, reading a text, and then looked back up at me.
"Do you have today off?" she asked.
"Yeah, I have the whole week off because I thought I'd still be in rehab."
"Well, that was my boss. I guess my morning fare canceled. So, if you want, we could go for a flight."
"I'd love that. Finally get a chance to see the master at the controls," I said with a wink.
At the airfield I helped Jaimie prep "her bird" for flight. The company's ground crew did most of the cleaning and refueling work, but Jaimie, like any good pilot, liked to check and double check everything herself. She said I was a natural though as she gave me instructions which I followed perfectly, without any lengthy explanations. Finally, with the physical work done, Jaimie climbed into the cockpit, and motioned that I should do the same. I got in on the left side and closed the door next to me before donning the headset I was offered.
"Alright," Jaimie said, her voice coming through the earphones, as she handed me a packet of papers, "here's the preflight checklist. You're going to read through it for me."
I weighted the document in my paw. "You go through this every time you fly?"
"No, only the last bit usually, but since this is the first flight, I have to do the whole thing. It will be nice to have someone help for a change though."
I started at the top of the page and worked my way through. Every step I read, Jaimie would flip some switch, or turn some knob, or check some gauge. The strange part was, it all made sense to me. Even though, I had no prior experience flying, much less being in the cockpit, each item seemed familiar, and I automatically knew what it would do, or what it was for. As the engine came to life, Jaimie fed power to the throttle and the rotors overhead began to spin, gradually and rhythmic at first, but then increasing in speed until they became a blur and the whole fuselage vibrated.
"Good job," Jaimie said as I finished the last item on the checklist, "now pay attention, I don't want to have to fail you on the test I'll give later," she added with a wink. "Helicopters have three primary flight controls. First you have the cyclic." She indicated the stick between her legs. I looked down at the identical device in front of me. "In simple terms, the cyclic controls..."
"The angle of attack of the blades at the identical point of their cycle, causing a change in lift at that position, and therefore direction of flight," I finished for her.
"How did you know that?" Jaimie asked in an impressed tone.
"I don't know," I replied truthfully, shocked myself at the knowledge.
"Okay, smarty. What does this do?" she inquired indicating the horizontally positioned control between the two seats.
"The collective controls the pitch of the blades simultaneously, affecting the overall lift output of the rotors. This changes the craft's altitude and airspeed."
I glanced at Jaimie to see her looking at me curiously.
"And finally?" she asked, like a teacher who was sure the student already knew the answer, but needed to ask the question any way.
"The pedals operate the tail rotor, changing the thrust output in order to compensate for the rotational motion of the blades, and control the aircraft's yaw in flight."
Jaimie looked at me slyly, "did you look all this up to impress me?"
"No," I answered, looking her in the eyes. I had no idea why or how I knew any of this, but it came to me as naturally as tying my shoes or writing my name.
"Okay, now I'm curious about just how much you actually know. What would you do if you wanted to take off?"
"Well," I stated, thinking on the question and looking over the controls and gauges, "first I'd increase power to the engine until the rotors were spinning within the recommended rpm's for flight."
As I said this, my eyes landed on the gauge I was looking for and my right hand grasped the throttle until the needle sat in the middle of the green bar.
"Then, I'd increase our lift until..." I felt the helicopter becoming light and my feet automatically adjusted the tail rotor. I hadn't even known that I had raised the collective, but by now my body was reacting without having to be told what to do. I grasped the cyclic with my left paw and moved it subtly feeling the change in roll. When I felt in control, I increased blade angle and we lifted off the ground. Pitching forward, we sped off on the takeoff path, increasing altitude and forward airspeed. This was fun! I looked over at Jaimie grinning and saw that her fur was on end, her eyes the size of dinner plates, and her paws clenched on the controls. I had wondered what that uncommon resistance to my commands had been. Her left paw I noticed, was gripping my right on the collective, claw's beginning to draw blood. Obviously, when she had asked the questions, she had not expected me to actually start piloting the helicopter.
"Okay, Xavier. You can let go of the controls now," Jaimie said, almost pleadingly.
I acquiesced and released my delicate grip on the controls. Jaimie relaxed as she took control again.
"Sorry," I murmured, only now realizing what it must have been like for her.
"Don't be, that was a perfect take off. It just, surprised me. Why didn't you tell me you knew how to fly?"
"I don't, I didn't, I didn't know I knew any of that. It was like, once I started, a different part of my mind took over and I just went along with it. It was strange and exiting and a bit scary all at the same time."
"You're telling me."
The rest of the flight went smoothly, with no more surprises. I watched Jaimie as she masterfully skimmed the treetops, knocking snow from branches and dislodging a few birds that had still been asleep. I noticed a gleam in her eyes that I had rarely seen before now. We passed over the town and Raven Fire, getting a great view of the resort and surrounding mountains. Eventually though we had to head back. Jaimie turned to me as we approached the airfield.
"You don't mind if I land do you?" she asked sarcastically.
"Knock yourself out."
Back on the ground, I assisted with the post flight, choosing to stay out of the way mostly. I bid Jaimie farewell as she left to meet her next fare. I watched here helicopter rise off the ground. She circled once overhead, waving at me from the cockpit before flying away and leaving me to catch the bus back into town.
Back at the condo, I walked out onto the balcony and stared across the snow covered mountains, contemplating this morning's events. What did this all mean? Was this a link to who I had been before my accident? I rolled up my right pants leg and ran a claw across the five black spots which stitched up my leg just above my knee. Dr. Hall had said they were bullet scars. I had long since quit pondering this particular feature of my appearance, but now thought on any possible connections between the two. There were no right answers and I was still just as lost as I had always been.
"Who am I!?" I shouted over the rooftops in frustration at my lack of knowledge.
Perhaps I would never know. Perhaps I was not meant to know. Then a third option came to mind, one I had never considered before. What if I finally found the answer to that question and couldn't handle it? Maybe I should take the new life I had been given and enjoy it, not worrying about what had been lost in my past.