[PART 43]
Chapter 7
1926-1930
Of Rockets, Technology and Martians
The rocket men – London’s “Martian” fog panic – Committee flight endurance test – The test flights of the Phoenix II – Two plates lip-to-lip – Continuing to build for defense – The high energy work continues – Television – End of the ports’ recovery program – ‘Vaults for mankind’ completed – Underground livestock – Robert Byrd’s polar flight – Radio echo from Mars – Aircraft carriers – The Brotherhood attack Lower-New York – More amazing discoveries in Egypt – Martian tunneling machines come online – Empire State Building construction – Another Martian secret discovered – Lake Anjikuni, Canada – Morse code message from a human on Mars – Heat-ray gun test – More devices from Tesla’s labs – The great Earth caves program – Tango raids no-man’s land.
The Rocket Men
It did not take long for the men working on propulsion systems to outgrow their facilities. By 1926 the White Sands test facility was becoming too small to allow larger and longer-range rocket tests. Dr. Goddard had put together a rather dynamic program at White Sands and his team had made great progress, but the world of White Sands Missile Test Site was far too small for the really large rockets now expected to come online. (Dr. Goddard’s team had pushed their rockets to heights above 50 miles and to speeds of over 4000 miles per hour.) The Committee needed a new, larger facility and one in a warm climate (fewer expected Martians). With this in mind, teams readied themselves to travel to locations around the world identified as likely places to continue the work. However, before any of the teams could begin their scouting assignments, Professor Tsiolkovsky walked into the meeting room with a book in his hand to deliver the answer. “My friends, I believe you need to turn your attention to Mr. Verne for your answer. He has already done the research for you.”
The good professor, who had by then gone nearly deaf, had placed a copy of Jules Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon on the table. We all thought it was a bit of a joke by the old professor, but it was not. He was quite serious. The well-worn book had been a favorite of Tsiolkovsky’s since his childhood, and now it pointed to a spot along the coast of Florida. Verne’s fictional vehicle had been launched to the moon by a giant cannon; not an option in real life of course in our thick atmosphere, but it did not take long for the propulsion team members to see the advantages of launching their rockets out over the Atlantic Ocean. Teams were soon on the way to investigate the sands and fleas of Cape Canaveral to determine the area’s feasibility as a potential launch site. Before long, the pleasant fiction of Mr. Verne would turn Cape Canaveral into a very real and very active missile launch test facility that would eventually house flight as well as port facilities. The Committee had their new reaction test site. It would not be long before they began launching rockets from “launch pads at the Cape.” We were now in the space business to stay.
With so much work being accomplished with rocket research several nations began to sponsor societies with space and space travel in mind. For Germany the quest for space would center on the Verein fur Raumschiffahrt (Society for Space Travel) begun in 1927, the Soviet Union the Group for Investigation of Reaction Motion came to life in 1928 and in the United States one could join the American Rocket Society. These groups would at times conduct their own research. The British and American groups could also count on some Committee funding; the Soviet and German groups could not! The split within the Committee was becoming wider. Needless to say, we had ‘people’ in each of these groups including the ones in Germany and the Soviet Union.
The Committee also had their hands full with a new proposal by Austrian army Captain Hermann Noordung. Noordung was presenting a proposal for a large (100 feet in diameter) wheel-shaped space station to be put into orbit. He proposed that mirrors that focused the Sun on panels for energy should power it. Noordung envisioned the “orbital base” as a defense platform capable of monitoring spacecraft in orbit around the Earth (Martian spacecraft) as well as being able to track inbound spacecraft heading for Earth. As interesting and vital an idea that it was, this advanced proposal would need to be held up as we had yet to even launch a rocket into the upper atmosphere, let alone a manned Earth orbiting space station. However, the thought of sending up a small unmanned moon into Earth orbit was a very good idea and if it could be used in some type of overall planetary defense, all the better. In the meantime, there were many more down to Earth problems we needed to address at the time. We also had a small but vital package to deliver to our research group working in Lower-Paris.
OUR FIRST ‘JET’ ENGINE – 1926
Mankind may date their first expression of a jet engine to the aeolipile, dated to no less than 150 B.C.E. This steam powered device was used to spin a sphere very rapidly on its axis as the water filled sphere was heated from below. Nevertheless, this remarkable device never seems to have been used to do practical work for these ancient people who built it. It is written that Archytas of Tarentum, which would become southern Italy, around 330 B.C.E. designed and built a “self-propelled aerial craft” using a jet of steam to fly his craft some 600 feet. Reported by Aulus Gellius some 500 years later, the bird-shaped device was said to have been called The Pigeon.
Whether these reports were true or just myths, they nevertheless placed into the minds of men that we would someday fly a craft into Earth’s skies with a much more powerful jet engine. After the First Martian War, a finer focus on jet engines and the possible use of back engineered Martian technology led to the development of our first true jet engine or more properly know as a “gas turbine engine.”
The original work on jet engines had been done independently just after the Martian War in 1903 by a Norwegian engineer named Egidius Elling. Elling however, ran into difficulties with metallurgy, weight and the engine’s ability to sustain operation. Ten years later Rene Lorin and Elling, both now working with the Committee, were able to develop a subsonic pulsejet, but they were not able to achieve the type of speeds in 1913 for it to properly operate. By 1926 with what we had taken from back engineered Martian technology we were ready to try again.
Three years earlier, Edgar Buckingham, working with the Committee Bureau of Standards, published his report on the work then being done on jet engines. “There does not appear to be, at present, any prospect whatever that jet propulsion of the sort here considered will ever be of practical value, even for military purposes.”
Despite those who felt a jet engine simply would not be able to do the job, by mid-1927 the Committee jet engine team, were ready to put their work to the test. If these first tests proved successful, the Committee was prepared to rush any practical design into production for flight tests.
In charge of this so-called ‘bench test’ was the brilliant young RAF officer Frank Whittle. Whittle had been assigned to one of the advanced desks at Committee headquarters in London, working on engine development and Martian power devices, when he came up with his idea we were about to test. With him was A. A. Griffitts who had written a Committee science paper on An Aerodynamic Theory of Turbine Design. Together they, along with their team of 24 engineers and metalworkers, had built what they called a “two-stage axial compressor which will feed a single-sided centrifugal compressor.” It sounded a bit ‘Greek’ to me.
Standing next to them as they explained what they were planning, I must have looked like a small child, not quite sure of what was going on. I certainly felt like it. Tesla, in town for other matters and making time for this test, looked quite interested, and I must say well into their conversation. Tesla was pressing for technical details that he had not read about in the several briefs that had been sent to his team in Lower-New York. In just a few words, Dr. Tesla could condense down complicated questions that most times cause ‘inventors’ to shake in their lab coats. However, Frank Whittle was no such inventor, as he stood nose to nose with the great man, answering with confidence all the good doctor’s questions. At dinner that evening, Tesla told me how impressed he had been with the young man who stood up to his tough questions. “I could use this young man. He has great confidence in his work.”
The team was ready. The jet with a “self-contained fuel pump” was started as we all stood behind concrete and steel barriers. There was always the possibility of an explosion when powerful engines and volatile fuels were involved, but not this time. With a massive roar that defied experience, the engine came to life, pushing a bright white cone of hot air in its wake. Over the noise and power of the engine, we could see the test bench actually bend forward! The run had been pre-set to run for two minutes, but Whittle, seeing the possibility of his only prototype ‘flying’ off the bench, called a halt to the test and shut off the fuel. Nothing happened! In fact, the engine continued to accelerate.
Running out to the test stand, one of the test engineers, with an axe in hand, swung at the machine’s off-set fuel line and cut it in half with a single blow. He would later express the fear that he could possibly have become engulfed in fuel, which could have turned him into a raging inferno. Amazingly, when he cut the line, very little fuel spilled out. The problem was not in the fuel line, it was in the engine itself. It seemed that leaking unburned fuel had been building up inside the base of the engine and the engine was not going to switch off until all the “panned fuel” was exhausted.
Later review showed that a leak had developed along the connector from the fuel line to the pre-desperation chamber, which allowed a pool of fuel to build up. It was a major design flaw which could very easily have caused the engine to explode. However, despite this problem, it would not be long before a design change and several more bench tests showed we did indeed have a practical jet engine. Now the team would need to mate this new device to an airframe that could not only handle the stresses of the engine but the dangers one would find at high speeds in Earth’s atmosphere. Gustave Whitehead would provide just such a design as his team continued to develop warplanes for planetary defense.
As these developments continued, in 1927 the Committee received a final updated report from George Lemaitre, a Belgian astronomer who had been researching Martian astronomy. From his Martian studies, he proposed that the universe had indeed begun with an explosive-like release of a highly condensed mass of matter and energy, he called the original “cosmic egg”. We would later refer to his proposed beginning of the known universe as the “Big Bang.” Humans and Martians were starting to look rather small in reflection of such wondrous things. There was much more to come if we had the opportunity to discover such wonders in the future.
London’s “Martian” Fog Panic
22 February 1927
On 22 February1927 the city of New London suddenly became engulfed in a slow moving yellow gas-like fog in the early morning. It did not take long for alarms to go off indicating that a deadly Martian fog had returned. Those alarms sent thousands of London’s above ground residents and workers fleeing before the yellow vapor, as well as into Lower-London.
It was described as a soiled, dense fog which “blotted out objects within arm’s reach.” In the bright sunlight of the day, “it diffused broad daylight into a dull, enveloping bluish glow,” according to a Time magazine reporter visiting London at the time. It was certainly “the worst fog in half a century” and one which caused the most panic since the actual Black Smoke attacks during the First Martian War. The Time reporter continued, “Bus conductors walked ten feet ahead of their busses, connected with them by electric wires on which lamps glowed. When two bus conductors sighted each other they signaled port or starboard to the drivers whose busses did not then bump. At Charing Cross and at every major crossing huge gasoline torches sent up roaring flames three feet high – barely visible at ten yards. Cross Channel boat service was suspended for only the second time in 50 years (The first was during the First Martian War).”
Local police were soon out in force controlling what they could. Many used loud speakers to assure the people that there was no danger from the fog other than the eye and throat irritation and that people should stay in their residents and businesses until the fog cleared. Despite the onset of panic it was soon discovered that the yellow gas-like fog was natural and not poisonous to healthy individuals even though it did cause eyes to sting and throats to become sour. The rather surprising development was that even though Lower-London was crowded for a while the city continued to operate well under the stress. For the most part it was business as usual underground even as it became a very crowded place to be in for the few hours the fog rolled on through the city. The city above ground was at a stand-still while Lower-London tested its anti-Black Smoke systems for the hours the fog engulfed London.
In response to the sudden appearance of the low-lying fog emergency vent shutdowns were ordered along its path in Lower-London. Fans were set to push the air along as fast as possible and ignition systems were set to burn the gas if it entered the massive underground facility. Above ground personnel were set to ignite Martian Black Smoke Pads should the “gas” move towards their positions. (Some were actually ignited – nice test.) This unintended ‘test’ of our ant-Black Smoke systems showed that we were nowhere near ready enough to defeat the Martian Black Smoke. We needed to greatly expand the system and we needed more trained personnel to man the stations.
The fog and the deep unreasonable fear it brought to the people of New London once again threw my mind back to the days we spent fighting these off-world terrors.
Cylinder followed cylinder on its interplanetary flight; every twenty-four hours brought them reinforcement. And meanwhile the military and naval authorities, now fully alive to the tremendous power of their antagonists, worked with furious energy. Every minute a fresh gun came into position until, before twilight, every copse, every row of suburban villas on the hilly slopes about Kingston and Richmond, masked an expectant black muzzle. And through the charred and desolated area – perhaps twenty square miles altogether – that encircled the Martian encampment on Horsell Common, through charred and ruined villages among the green trees, through the blackened and smoking arcades that had been but a day ago pine spinneys, crawled the devoted scouts with the heliographs that were presently to warn the gunners of the Martian approach. But the Martians now understood our command of artillery and the danger of human proximity, and not a man ventured within a mile of either cylinder, save at the price of his life. And while the Martians behind me were thus preparing for their next sally, and in front of the humanity gathered for the battles, I made my way with infinite pains and labor from the fire and smoke of burning Waybridge towards London…
Once again the people of London were reminded that the Martians could attack at any hour at any place they chose to attack. The Committee was reminded that there was a lot more work to be done if we were to have any chance at defeating the Martians should they choose to wage war on our as yet unprepared planet.
With this deep fog rolling across London, even though it was harmless, it came to mind that this type of natural event or otherwise could be used as a test for more nefarious work. I wondered if this type of test had been used on Earth by the Martians in years past and with a little piece of research we found several possible examples. One well reported event occurred in 1758 in Colonial Connecticut just as the Sun was about to rise that morning. The news was reported throughout the colony.
“About sun-rise, at this place was a fog of so strange and extraordinary appearance, that it filled us all with amazement. It came in great bodies, like thick clouds, down to the Earth, and in its way, striking against the houses, would break and fall down the sides in great bodies, rolling over and over. It resembled the thick steam rising from boiling wart, and was attended with such heat that we could hardly breathe. When first I saw it I really thought my house had been on fire, and ran out to see if it was so; but many people thought the world was on fire, and the last day come. One of our neighbors was then at Sutton, 100 miles to the eastward, and reports it was much the same there.”
Another Martian experiment – who could tell?
BIO THREAT
Biological attacks by Martians against humans throughout our long history had been well understood by now at least by the Committee and leading national governments. The general public was of course generally unaware of this destructive history. With this in mind a memo was issued at the London office detailing one particular concern.
MOST-SECRET
MEMORANDUM (mj2186)
For reasons connected with this Department, certain
officers have been investigating the possibility of
bacteriological warfare and after reading their report
it is thought that the possibilities of this form of warfare
may have been under-rated, especially the destruction of
our flocks by anthrax or foot and mouth disease, also
the contamination of our water and milk supply.
Can, say, one hundred hybrid agents supplied with
bacteriological material and operating in the London
underground railways during the rush hours, start a
serious epidemic in London? Could it be successfully
deployed in Lower-London or other underground facilities?
MOST-SECRET
The requirement for improved air as well as water filtration systems needed to be addressed, but it was well understood that no system we could put into place would or could stop all biological attacks of the kind mentioned in the memo. The only real defense was a possible vigorous vaccination program, separation of flocks to prevent spread and a renewed effort to keep track of any and all possible threats. We also needed to look a lot harder at developing storage capabilities for much larger amounts of fresh water. It could never really be enough but whatever we could do we had to do in this critical area. In the meantime there was work to be done in the atmosphere of Earth.
It was during meetings concerning the possible bio-hazard from Mars that Bavarian Ministry of the Interior brought up the possible sterilization of not only hybrids but those referred to as “less than desirable.” Sterilization of hybrids had come up for discussion earlier but the members would not vote to adopt any efforts to sterilize anyone until the minister fully explained “less than desirable.” His response was less than satisfactory and the discussion was shelved. However, the possible sterilization of hybrids in the future was not completely abandoned, only put off for future debate.
Committee Flight Endurance Tests
PROTRACTED FLIGHT
Continuing to test advanced aircraft designs and engines found the American Columbia Aircraft Corporation under Chief Engineer Guisepse M. Bellance conducting an endurance test of his yellow-winged monoplane. This was one of many privately owned companies which had been receiving reports from the Committee on back engineered Martian equipment (airframes, fuels, metals, etc.). The aircraft had been fitted with a new Wright engine. (This was one of a few contracts let by the Wright Engine Company.) Selected to fly the endurance test were onetime auto racers Bert Acosta and Clarence D. Chamberlain; both pilots now working for the Committee, and on loan to Columbia Aircraft Corporation. On hand were three reporters, one of whom was employed by the new Time magazine group.
Up they put from Mitchel Field, Long Island, with 385 gallons of ethylated (high power) gasoline. All day they droned back and forth over suburbia, circled the Woolworth Building (recently rebuilt from war damage), hovered over Hadley Field, New Jersey, swung back to drop notes on Mitchel Field. All that starry night they wandered slowly around the sky, and all the next day, and through the next night, a muggy, cloudy one. Messrs. Acosta and Chamberlain swallowed soup and sandwiches, caught cat naps on the mattressed fuel tanks, while on and on they droned, almost lazily (at about 80 mile per hour) for they were cruising against time. Not for 51 hr., 11 min., 25 sec., did they coast to Earth, having broken the world’s record for protracted flight (45 hr., 11 min., 59 sec. Set in France in 1925).
The team had covered 4,100 air miles without landing or refueling, which would have been sufficient to fly from Manhattan to Vienna. This circular flight was also remarkable in that it seemed to have attracted no interest from the Martians or their hybrid allies. It was probably not very impressive to our planet hopping enemy.
‘LUCKY’ LINDBERGH
20 May 1927
Most school children can recall in detail the well-advertised (thanks to Directorate L) 3,600 mile flight of young Charles A. Lindbergh and his aircraft named the Spirit of St. Louis from New York City to Paris, which began on 20 May 1927. He would take the great circle route towards Nova Scotia and Newfoundland before heading out to open ocean. What is not mentioned in the history books was the small package which was carefully secreted in an inside panel being brought to the Executive Committee of Twelve holding their annual meeting that year in underground Paris. This small but priceless package held a tiny device, which had been recently discovered inside one of the Martian machines which had been mostly destroyed in battle near New Jersey. We would later discover that the device was capable of producing a great deal of energy with a very small amount of matter as well as containing extremely small electronic devices, which worked without vacuum tubes.
So with the cover of a $25,000 monetary prize donated by Raymond Orteig (an associate member of the Committee and deeply involved in several building programs) for the one-man flight, Lindbergh flew off with a heavy load of 451 gallons of gasoline, a few sandwiches, two canteens of water and emergency rations, from a muddy, rain soaked runway. He nearly ended his flight in a crash at the end of the runway, as he was barely able to fly over the telephone wires. Before he took off he said, “When I enter the cockpit it’s like going into the death chamber. When I step out at Paris it will be like getting a pardon from the governor.”
Even though it was a very long flight over the Atlantic Lindbergh was able to report that he had not spotted any Martian flying craft during his trip although he did spot three unidentified lights at great distances as he approached Europe. His lone aircraft seemed to have not caught the attention of the Martians.
At a dinner held after the flight he remarked about some of his flight. “Shortly after leaving Newfoundland, I began to see icebergs. Within an hour it became dark. Then I struck clouds and decided to try to get over them. For a while I succeeded at a height of 10,000 feet. I flew at this height until early morning. The engine was working beautifully and I was not sleepy at all. I felt just as if I was driving a motor car over a smooth road, only it was easier. Then it began to get light and the clouds got higher. Sleet began to cling to the plane. That worried me a great deal and I debated whether I should keep on or go back. I decided I must not think any more about going back. Fairly early in the afternoon I saw a fleet of fishing boats. On one of them I saw some men and flew down almost touching the craft and yelled at them, asking if I was on the right road to Ireland. They just stared. An hour later I saw land. I flew quite low enough over Ireland to be seen, but apparently no great attention was paid to me.”
When he landed at Le Bourget Airport outside Paris at 10:22 p.m. on 21 May an enthusiastic crowd of some 150,000 nearly crushed him, and for a time made it impossible for agents working for the Executive Committee of Twelve to gain access to his aircraft and remove the small sample of what eventually turned out to be primary Martian technology. “I appreciated the reception which had been prepared for me and had intended taxing up to the front of the hangers, but no sooner had my plane touched the ground then a human sea swept toward it. I saw there was danger of killing people with my propeller, and I quickly came to a stop.” We would later discover that this small device he carried, built into a small square fabricated board of unknown material, was key to controlling almost all power and electric technology being used by the Martians at the time. The Committee scientists would eventually put this device to great use as one of the keys to operating their equipment. As an aside it also turned out to be used as a translational device.
There was one other device on board that had nothing to do with Martian technology. Lindbergh was flying with the first ever, small portable Hulsmeyer radar device. “Lucky Lindy” was able to test the device several times as he flew over ships he spotted on the surface of the ocean thus proving that we could do the same with larger more powerful devices then being designed by Dr. Hulsmeyer.
As for young Mr. Lindbergh, who had become the 7th man to fly across the Atlantic in a fixed wing aircraft (the first on his own), he quietly took the praise for his flight as the world was directed away from the true reason for flying so recklessly alone across the Atlantic. The American President, Calvin Coolidge, awarded Lindbergh the Distinguished Flying Cross and promoted him to Colonel in the United States Officer’s Reserve Corps.
Many however, felt that the award of the New York State Medal of Honor was a bit over the top. After all he had not been the first to cross the Atlantic in an aircraft nor had he been in combat with the Martians or any such thing. Not to mention the five dozen other individuals who had flown over in dirigibles. My thoughts ran to the team of aviators who had actually flown around the world in ’24 some three years earlier. As one critic stated, “He got the award for staying awake for 35 hours and pointing his craft in the correct direction!” (However, at the time it was not unheard of to read a report of some pilot flying in the exact opposite direction he was thought to be flying!) One Committee member stated that “it was as if someone had been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize just for showing up in some political office.” We all laughed because we knew at least that would never happen. As he said, “You can’t just say you are going to do something one has to actually do something provable and worthwhile to be awarded a Nobel Peace Prize, right?” Nevertheless, young Lindbergh did give the world something interesting to talk about for a while which would take people’s minds off things Martian. He became our “ambassador without portfolio” so perhaps it was worth the propaganda effort after all, even without the small package he delivered. We did have hopes that his flight would show the Martians that our flight capabilities were as yet rather limited. Jet engine tests, future jet aircraft platforms, rocket work and back engineered Martian Flying Machines were hoped to be well off “Martian Radar.” I smiled when the American Time Magazine, now publishing out of their new offices at L-East 17th Street in Lower-New York, named Lindbergh their ‘Man-of-the-Year’ for 1927.
As far as other things in the air were concerned we were now once again prepared to test fly a rebuilt and completely reworked Martian Flying Machine we had dubbed the Phoenix II Project. When the craft flew for the first time one of the honored guests was none other than ‘Lucky Lindy’.
The Test Flights of the Phoenix II
July 1927
With the facility at White Sands no longer needed for rocket research the Committee decided to use the site for new flight tests of the Phoenix II and other experimental aircraft in the future. We were still not fully convinced the crash of the original Phoenix had been an accident so we had moved well away from the original Bournemouth test site.
The problem of language conversion had finally been worked out (at least at a level we could use) and the project managers felt that once again we were ready to go. We had recorded a series of Martian words on a new “digital recording device” that we had “borrowed” and back engineered from the Martians. The ‘vocal device’ was wired directly to the pilot’s hand controller. When the pilot pulled up on the hand controller the vocal device would instantly form the Martian words for “pull up” and the craft (at least during ground tests) would pull up! It was simple but elegant in design and use – at least on the ground and during tests of a small remotely controlled model (thanks to Mr. Tesla). Now it was time to test the Phoenix II in actual flight and even though the first Phoenix had crashed there was a long line of hotshot pilots just waiting to get their hands on this new sleek flying machine.
THE FIRST FLIGHT
Chosen to fly were Great Earth War aerial leader Col. Billy Michael and co-pilot Lt. Col. Michael R. Davis Jr. Davis is the son of Major Michael Davis Sr. who had lost his life test flying the original Phoenix. He had pulled about every string he could to fly this mission, but it was his test piloting skills which put him in the co-pilot’s seat not his connections or his diplomatic skills. If he had not been one of the best in the business he would not have gotten anywhere near the Phoenix II. The Committee had no place for “political correctness” as it came to be known.
To look at one would think that the brilliant white craft on the runway was the exact same aircraft that had ‘flown’ in July of 1907. In a way it was. It had been assembled mostly from parts of several downed Martian Flying Machines, much like the original Phoenix. However, it was the modifications inside which made the Phoenix II a totally new generation of flying machine, at least from a human point of view. Committee teams had completely reworked the controls and they had been fully tested hundreds of times in the laboratory. It was 3 July 1927, and we had great confidence the Phoenix II would fly and under control. What we did not know was how well and how far. We were about to find out.
Radar stations were on line, including several new portable ones in long bed trucks, showing clear skies for miles. They were not looking for Earth aircraft rather they needed to keep an eye open for Martians. We still did not know for certain if the original Phoenix had been shot down in 1907 or was truly an accident so we wanted to protect this craft as much as we could from any surprise attacks. If at all possible we wanted a clean, event free test flight. So even though this was its first test flight the Phoenix II was armed!
As the sleek new Phoenix II was towed to the flight line, Col. Michael and Lt. Col. Davis went over the flight plan one last time. Both men could have recounted the entire plan by heart and it was more of “something to do while the final preparations were completed” rather than the need to refresh their memories. For this first flight Col. Michael would be at the pilot’s controls with Lt. Col. Davis acting as flight engineer and power/lift controller. It was still the most complicated flying machine on the planet (in earthman’s hands) and could not be flown by one man, at least not a human one. In addition to the flight crew Captain H-Terence Paterson was onboard as flight recorder and systems engineer. He had been added late to the test flight after Dr. Tesla insisted on having one of his people on board to observe all that he could. Tesla wanted more than flight test data, he wanted to know how well the men interacted with the controls. He had also added a new ‘weapon’ to the Phoenix II and he wanted at least one test shot of his new “Radio Displacement Beam.” Simply stated his ‘beam’ was expected to disable any radio transmitter within a range of 1000 yards. His target would be the transmitter he had placed inside of a large white painted circle at the end of the runway. He did not want his “gunner” to miss the target. After all, this was a test of the machine and the new technology, not the man who was going to “fire it off.” It was 7:15 a.m. when the light fog finally burned off. Before the Phoenix II took off 16 other fighter aircraft took off and four each headed to the cardinal points to provide flight range coverage in the event of unexpected aerial company. We were ready to go.
The Phoenix II presented a wonderful sight as it slowly rolled down the runway. At first we wondered why it was rolling so slowly, but we soon got the shock of our lives. At a speed of only 50 miles per hour the gleaming white craft nosed up and made a graceful 45o angle climb. After only seconds the craft nosed up to 85o and almost silently the craft rose powerfully into the air at what was later shown to be some 200 miles per hour. The Phoenix II had literally leaped off the runway with such grace and power tears were in the eyes of many who witnessed this “launch.” This was a magnificent flying machine and for the first time since 1907 it was under human control.
It did not take long for the aircraft to climb to 10,000 feet and level off for its first speed run. Coming in from the west the craft could be seen by binoculars, but there was no sound. It was as if we were watching a silent movie. It was soon directly overhead, and as we watched the craft seemed to nearly stop dead in its tracks, roll over and headed towards the ground. Pulling up at around 1000 feet the Phoenix II gracefully set off towards the north estimated at over 500 miles per hour. This was the fastest any ‘manmade’ and operated craft had ever flown, but we were in for yet another surprise. After gracefully turning south the Phoenix II lined up for its second speed run. Those who had the best view would speak of “the bullet that flew past.”
It was at that point the observers saw and heard a great surprise. Just after the craft flew over the reviewing stand as it was pulling up we heard a tremendous explosion. The first reaction was “My god, it’s exploded!” What had actually happened was that the Phoenix II had flown beyond the speed of sound and the explosion was actually the sound of the craft breaking the sound barrier. The craft then barrel rolled and made a 360-degree turn onto the runway to make its “gun run on the radio target.” As we watched the radio monitor the transmitter began to give off a high-pitched sound. Seconds later it lost all power and caught on fire. The radio had been destroyed in a flash of electrical sparks. As I looked over I could see Tesla had a wide grin on his face. His beam had worked perfectly.
Coming in for a very smooth landing the Phoenix II rolled up to the reviewing stand to a standing ovation. Many in the small crowd had tears streaming down their faces. Now we had a craft that could meet the Martians in the skies over Earth (we hoped) on an equal basis. We would need many more. And even though this had only been a short first flight we were confident that we were well on our way to matching the Martians, at least in the skies above the Earth.
[END PART 43]
Copyright © R. Michael Gordon, 2020
