You [Birds] Have a Choice to Make

“Waddup, loser?”

“Hi Dash. The flight plan is filed, the performance data is ready, the lower deck is without its seats, the upper deck is warm and welcoming. All we’re missing is you.”

“Sorry. Tough to be fast in this traffic.”

“How ironic. Los Angeles?”

“Yeah. I had to pick up your potential clients there.”

“What’s this all about, anyhoo?”

“Uh, I'll explain more once we arrive. For now, all you need to know is that we need to get to Paris by tomorrow, and Korea the following day.”

“You’re making me nervous already. Just hurry up.”

She doesn’t respond and instead hangs up.

“Do you have your passport, Applejack?”

“Yeah I do. I carry it when I travel.”

“You make life so easy.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Don’t know. Rainbow is currently on her way up from Los Angeles, and the airplane she hired comes at the request of the contact we’re meeting at our first destination. Said they wanted the lower deck without seats, but to try and cush up the upper deck. If I’m even the slightest bit onto her, I’d say we’re about to do a cargo flight.”

She perks up a bit.

“Excited to finally join me on one of my escapades?”

“First time ‘n all.” She says trying to hold back an excited blush.

“In case anyone asks, you’re extra muscle for whatever it is we’re working with.”

“Dash didn’t tell ya what it is?”

“You know how she is. Of course she’s gonna be pretty hush-hush about it.”

She only rolls her eyes and smiles endearingly.

“Does she know you’re with me?” I then ask.

“‘Fer the flight or… us?”

“Mostly the former. If she is or was interested, she snoozed and lost I guess. Can I trust you two will behave yourselves?”

“I can’t guarantee anythin’. She’s usually the one who winds me up.”

“‘Bout 50/50 I’d say. Though I’ve only known the both’a youse for a fraction of the time you have.”

“Welcome.” I say dryly to Rainbow Dash as I grant entry to a full Transit van with quite a few others in it.

Our airplane is sitting on a remote stand, and a set of stairs is already mated. Applejack should be inside getting herself comfortable and checking that the cargo space on the lower deck is usable.

“I did say I was bringing a crew,” Dash begins offering her forearm for bumping, “and this particular crew are joining us for a couple of reasons. They’re security for us, but primarily… I did tell them about your freighter thing.”

“Oh?” I respond somewhat confused.

“I’ll let them explain.”

“Celaeno.” Their evident leader says as she steps forward, exchanging a fist bump. “My crew and I used to have a ship of our own, but she was sadly lost. We’re looking for some new equipment, both to restart and expand our operation, and thanks to our friend Rainbow Dash here, we hope you can make that a reality.”

“I have no shortage of available aircraft. What’s your type?”

“767.”

“A noble steed they are. Sorry for your loss, but glad you’re all okay nonetheless.”

“So are we. It could’ve been much worse.

“Anyway, these are my crew members,

“Mullet,” she says pointing to a burly yet lanky gentleman with a dome cap, which he acknowledges with a salute.

“Marco,” who responds by standing at attention.

“Pinwheel,” who gives a 2-finger salute.

“Boyle,” who nods.

“Ace,” responding with a valiant crossing of his arms.

“Lix Spittle,” responding with a smirk and a wink.

“Brutus,” who responds by pounding his chest.

“And Squabble, he doesn’t speak much English.”

“Sim, señor.” He responds with some trepidation.

“¿Eres bueno?”

“Sim, sim.”

“¿Habla Portugués o Español?”

“Os dois, pero sim e não.”

“Así… Portuñol entonces.”

He nods.

“Welcome aboard.” I say with a nod of respect and a tip of the hat to the rest of the crew. “Let’s complete this flight then I can get you set up with a new ship.”

“Howdy y’all.” Applejack greets as she steps down the stairs.

“Applejack??” Rainbow responds incredulously. “What’re you doing here???”

“Had a little bit’a free time since we’re not growin’ anything at home.”

“She’s extra muscle for us.” I respond in Rainbow’s speechlessness.

“We can handle loading.” Celaeno adds. “We used to do our own load sheets.”

“Then consider Applejack here an extra set of hands.” To which she responds with a tip of her hat.

“I know we just got here, but we are all a bit hungry.” One of the crew members interjects.

“Lunch time.” Celaeno declares.

“Get comfortable. It’s 9 1/2 hours to Paris, which doesn’t account for the time it takes to load. From there, it’s another 10 hours to Seoul.”

“Are ye gonna be okay? That’s almost a full day’s worth of travelin’ just in the air.” Applejack says.

“Well, depending on how long it takes to get the cargo, I can hopefully get some rest. Otherwise, Rainbow Dash monitors the airplane in cruise.”

Dash only responds with a smug expression, mostly directed at AJ.

“Alright.” I then continue. “The time is now noon and a half. At the rate we’re going, we’ll land hopefully just after morning rush.”

“Which airport are we flying into?”

“Uhh… Le Bourget.”

“You couldn’t file into Paris?” Dash then claps back almost provocatively.

“Technically speaking, Le Bourget is the closest airport to Paris town center. Plus, Charles de Gaulle is slot-restricted, and Orly discourages large airplanes, while also being slot-restricted.”

“Lame.” She refutes with a very unamused look on her face.

“Victorville airport information Papa. 2048Z. Wind variable at 6. Visibility 10. Sky clear below 12,000. Temperature 21, dewpoint -4. Altimeter 30.01. All runways restricted access. Prior permission required. Advise on initial contact you have information Papa.”

“Joshua departure, N675NW, going to Le Bore-zhay.” Rainbow calls as the engines are getting warmed up.

“N675NW, amended route clearance, advise when ready to copy.”

“Roger, stand by, 675NW.” I call, instead handing RD the checklists.

“Flaps?” She asks grabbing the lever.

“10.” I respond as she sets them.

“Trims?”

“Set.”

“Departure brief?”

“In case of fire, failure, loss of vis or directional control, below V1, full reverse thrust, RTO straight ahead. Above V1, take it to air. Initial heading, altitude, and code from U2; comments, questions, concerns?”

“Instrument check.” She responds shaking her head, which is my cue to begin moving once all indications are either in or close enough to normal operating temperatures.

“Airspeed Zero.
Attitude indicator level and erect within 5 minutes.
Altimeter, within 75’ of field elevation at 30.01.
Wing in, trapezoid out.
Zero point noted.”

“Check all my side. Controls?”

“Elevators check.” I say moving the yoke up and down.

“Ailerons check. Left and right.”

“Rudders – upper and lower – check left… and right.”

“Temps, pressures?”

“Gauges in the green.”

Before takeoff.

“Transponder?

“Never mind.

“Initial heading the runway.” I interrupt.

“What runway would that be?”

“3.” I respond as I set the bug.

On my call, Dash queries ATC.

“Joshua departure. N675NW ready to copy.”

“N675NW, cleared to Le Bore-zhay via DAG BLD J107 HML, then as filed. Maintain 10,000 on departure, expect FL370 within 5 miles of BLD. Departure frequency 124.55, squawk 1017.”

“Cleared to Le Bore-zhay as filed via Daggett, Boulder City, Juliet 107, Humboldt, Minnesota; then as filed. 10,000 on departure, FL370 within 5 miles of Boulder City. Departure 124.55, squawk 1017, N675NW.” I respond for her.

“N675NW, readback correct. Talk to you soon, void in 2 minutes.”

“675NW.” She then replies.

Programming the new route as quickly as I can, Dash watches the clock.

With just under a minute to spare, strobes, landing, pulse lights on. Autopilot armed and ready.

Takeoff thrust set. Gauges in the green.

“80 knots?”

“Check.”

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Joshua departure, N675NW off Victorville, 3,000 climbing.” Rainbow calls.

“N675NW, Joshua departure, welcome. Turn right direct DAG, climb and maintain 15,000.”

“Direct Daggett, 15,000, 675NW.”

“Cruise checklist please.” I ask.

“Speed?”

“Set.”

“Lights?”

“Landing, taxi, pulse off.”

“Fuel?”

“Looks good with about… 9.5 hours reserve.”

“That’s a record.”

“Could change.”

“Complete.”

“Alright then. I trust you can monitor this thing. I’ll sleep now so I can take her through the night.”

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Later, loser.”

“Bye, Dash.”

“We can help too.” Celaeno adds as I step out of the cockpit.

“Sure. All the usual, just wake me up if something comes up. I should be back in about 7 hours.”

“N675NW, bienvenue. Your instructions are to park at le Musée de l’air et de l’espace. Stand by un moment, s’il vous plaît.”

“675NW.”

“Er, N675NW, Le Bourget.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve just been told your cargo is awaiting a ramp for conveyance. However, please taxi straight ahead to le Musée. Park next to the Airfrans 747.”

“Roger, 675NW. Merci pour ton hospitalité.”

“De rien.”

Park, shut down, awaiting the release of our cargo, which by the looks of things, appear to be ventilators.

“That’s our load right there. I believe your airplanes brought them here from Dee-troit.”

“Mons avions, yes. I didn’t however transport them from Détroit. You can thank United for that. Well, United masquerading as Allegiant.”

“Whatever. Give me your phone. I need to call the man in charge of our cargo.”

I roll my eyes and give Dash my phone, thankful my international plan covers all of Western Europe.

“Yo, we just landed.

“We’re sitting right next to them.

“Be quick. The sooner you get here, the sooner we can get to Korea.

“Yes, it’s a 747. Yes, the lower deck is cleared. Hurry up.

“Ok, bye.

“Here. Our contact’s name is Jake. He’ll be joining us to Korea.”

“Cool. Where is he?”

“Working out some release forms. Something about getting the ramp to wheel the ventilators in too.”

“Surely it can’t be that hard to just request one.”

“It must be.”

“Well, you say ramp, those are hard to come by, more so one that can reach our aircraft.”

“Why don’t we just load them below deck?”

“We could do that too.”

“Bonjour.” A lineman greets as he approach Dash and I. “Are you taking ze ventilators?”

“Oui, monsieur. Savez-vous où nous pouvons obtenir… équipement de… de…”

I can’t find the word for “loading,” so I try and gesticulate the word.

“De chargement?”

“Oui! Merci, mon français est un peu terrible.”

He smiles. “I understood it.”

“Can I go inside?” Dash then asks.

“Les toilettes? Straight ahead and to the left.

“Do you need fuel?” He then asks me.

“Oui, s’il vous plaît. Quatre-vingt-et-dix-un mille kilos.”

“Quatre-vingt-onze mille, monsieur. Coming right up.”

“Onze mille.” I reply chiding myself. “Vous vois? Mon français needs work.”

“C’est bien, monsieur. Being able to speak French with foreigners… ‘tis a breath of fresh air.”

“De rien, monsieur. Mon plaisir.”

“Oh, how much is that weight in liters?”

“Erm, one second.

“Cent-treize mille litres.” I reply after running the number through my flight computer.

“Merci, monsieur.”

He then leaves and radios the fuel truck.

When Rainbow Dash returns from the terminal building, the fuel truck arrives.

“Cent-treize mille litres, monsieur?”

“Oui. Moitié ici en le gauche, moitié en le droit.”

“D’accord.”

Figuring they don’t have much experience with large aircraft, I point out the tank fillers on each of the tanks I want filled.

A few minutes later, Dash calls me inside to the terminal.

“Max, this is Jake.”

“Hi, how are you?” I say tipping my hat.

“Jake.” He responds offering his hand.

“Max. Where you from?”

“San Bruno.”

“How’d you meet Rainbow Dash?”

“We play soccer together.”

“Where at?”

“San Diego?”

“Whereabouts at?”

“Downtown. I practice dentistry down there.”

“Oh wow. Nice. How did you get involved with the ventilators?”

“I’m a business partner of the owner of the company that manufactures them. No one else at the company was able to receive them here, so they called me.”

“Did you accompany them from Detroit?”

“No, someone else did. I don’t speak any French, but I am accompanying the ventilators to Korea. We’re meeting one of my friends there who can get them to where they need them.”

“Good stuff. We’re just taking on fuel now, so can we start loading them?”

“Yeah. I was having trouble with some of the paperwork.”

“I have plenty of muscle to help us, so I hope we can get acquainted while we’re in the air.”

With Applejack’s help, along with the Tetris skills of Celaeno and her crew, we fit the entire lower deck (save a few stations near the entry door) with ventilator apparatuses and associated equipment. Extra tubes and some other miscellaneous things occupy the overhead bins, and the lower deck baggage compartments needed not be utilized.

As they load, I do the performance data and get our flight plan squared away. With the fuel left over from America, and what I’ve taken on here at Le Bourget, that’s enough to get to Seoul with about an hour and a half reserve. Due to slot restrictions, we’re still awaiting our approved destination. If we have our way, we’ll be able to land in Incheon, but in a nod to the past of especially this aircraft and many others from an era sort of bygone, landing in Gimpo would be nice as well.

“Sugarcube?” Applejack calls from the other room.

“Yeah?” I respond poking my head out of the office.

“Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“We’re ready t’go, except we need you.”

“Well, we can’t leave until I get my flight plan processed, and because Seoul meters their traffic, I can’t begin any prep until we get our approval for either Incheon or Gimpo. Plus, even in spite of the essentiality of this flight, we may not even make Seoul.”

“Doesn’t seem to make a whole lotta sense to restrict traffic when most of that traffic is now kinda nonexistent.”

“Yeah, I know. Still, Korea has entry requirements, since Jake as I’ve been told is staying with the cargo. I guess he’s facilitating their release into Korea.”

“Makes sense, if he’s invested in ‘em.”

*new email alert*

“Ooh, an urgent notice.” I say as I open an email from a sender with Korean Hangul in the name.

After glazing over the Hangul and even some Hanja, I find an English manuscript just below them.

Looks we got approved for…

“Incheon it is. I’ve got the performance data, plenty of fuel, and of course all the cargo we need and then some. Given our average weight of each unit, that places us slightly below MTOW, so no matter what, we need their longest runway.”

“Sugarcube,” she then interrupts, “I actually came here for a reason.”

“Is it essential to the flight?”

“No. It’s… personal.”

“Oh. Well, let me just check something really quick.”

“*Flight plan – filed 1214Z.*”

“The flight plan’s on file, so we should get going soon.” I think to myself, especially as clouds roll in as per the TAF.

“What’s troubling you?” I then ask Applejack.

“Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said, about how I’m not really one to devote time to romance ‘n all that… mushy stuff, but…”

There is a pregnant pause.

“Applejack? Have you had… those kinds of fantasies?” I ask with nothing short of alarm.

“No! Well…”

I’m just beside myself. Never in my life has anyone I’ve ever dated thought that about me. Rosalina never did, none of my former two ex-wives did. Applejack’s a first, and we haven’t even been on a proper date yet.

“Applejack, if I had known it was that bad…”

“No Max. I can’t say ‘fer sure. Only as a passing thought.”

“Either way, that puts you in a position that none of my former partners, Rosalina included, ever reached. That makes you the first person to have had those types of fantasies about me.”

“Now that can’t be true.”

“Cannae lie.” I respond with one hand flat down and the other up, as if taking an oath.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Let me ask this first. Whether or not your fantasies are of that nature, does your perception of me change when you see me?”

“What’re ya gettin’ at?”

“You obviously fantasize about me – wow, I never thought I’d say that in my life – when you’re alone. Now that you’re actually with me, and in the middle of a long time together, does it make things any more or less different for you?”

“I… don’t really know how to answer that.”

“Will this help?”

Steeling my nerves and taking a deep breath, I pull Applejack close and place my lips on hers.