The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(7)

As Mark held the small funnel, Heather filled the fuel tank, careful not to spill any of the fuel on the ground.

Jennifer moved up beside them, fumbling with the control unit and a small handheld TV. It had been her idea to attach the tiny micro-camera to the aircraft, a camera that broadcast a short-range color signal that could be picked up on a selectable frequency by the TV. True, the picture was not high resolution and required line of sight between the camera and the receiver, but it was still a fun addition to the project.

Heather had routed the signal through her PDA. That way they could save a couple of minutes of the video on a CompactFlash memory card and replay it later. Their fathers had helped too, with little hints here and there to get the teens past sticking points. But, for the most part, this was their own work.

Getting the thumbs-up from Jennifer, Mark turned toward Heather. “How’s the wind speed?”

She held up the small anemometer, its four little half ping-pong ball cups whirling in the gentle breeze. “Holding steady at four knots. Looking good.”

“Okay then, here we go.” Mark spun the small propeller, and the engine coughed to life on his second attempt.

Jennifer moved the throttle control, and the engine revved up and down as she played with it, the sound cutting through the quiet rim country like a bright flashlight in a cave. She moved more controls, getting the thumbs-up from Mark as he checked to see that the control surfaces on their aircraft responded correctly to the commands.

“How’s the video feed?” Jennifer yelled above the whine of the engine.

Heather grinned. “Looks good, at least when Mark keeps his face out of it.”

Mark shook his head. “Very funny. Are we ready?”

Jennifer held up five fingers, lowering them one at a time as she counted backward out loud. The engine gunned as Mark released the small plane, sending it shooting out and up. Jennifer brought it banking around in a circle above them, gradually getting a feel for the thing, before putting it through some climbs and dives.

After a couple of minutes, Mark moved up beside her. “My turn, Doc.”

Jennifer arched an eyebrow at her brother, but handed him the control box, keeping the long antennae out and away from his body.

She moved over by Heather. “How’s the video?”

Heather shrugged. “The signal is strong and clear, but the way you guys are looping the airplane around, all it’s doing is making me airsick. Here, you take the TV for a minute and see if you can make out anything.”

Jennifer eagerly took the small set from Heather. “Hey, Mark. How about flying it flat and level for a bit so I can see how useful this is going to be?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Jennifer, staring down at the screen. “Keep going straight out for a bit. Oh cool. We just passed out over the rim.”

“Not too far now,” Heather cautioned.

Suddenly the small plane jerked sideways and down.

“Oh crap,” Mark said. “A gust of wind has it.”

He struggled to regain control of the small plane, his thumbs working the twin joysticks on the control rapidly. For a moment, it seemed that would work. Then, just as the red Piper Cub tried to climb back over the ridgetop, it spun wildly, plummeting out of sight.

“Damn it,” Mark yelled, setting down the control and running toward the rim, Heather close on his heels.

Reaching the spot where their airplane disappeared, Mark and Heather halted. Luckily, at this point along the rim, the slope, though steep, was not a cliff face like it was farther to their right. On the bad side, the steep slope was covered in thick, thorny brush. Scanning it from the top of the ridge, they could see no sign of the place where their pet project had impacted.

“Christ,” Mark moaned. “We might never find it down in that.”

“We’ll find it,” said Heather, although her heart sank. “It won’t be fun though.”

Jennifer arrived, clutching the video unit. “Hey, guys, take a look at this. I have the last thirty seconds of the crash on playback.”

Mark and Heather crowded behind Jennifer, peering over each shoulder as she pushed the play button on the PDA. The video spun wildly, then steadied momentarily. Jennifer paused the playback.

“You see that spot?” she asked, pointing to a lone pine tree amidst thick brush. “Can you recognize that tree anywhere down there?”

Mark walked back to the edge and scanned the slope below. “Yeah. I think I see it.”

“Okay. Now watch the end of the video. I’ll play it in slow motion.”

Stepping through the remaining few seconds of the video frame by frame, they watched as the view spun back and forth between sky and ground. The last several frames of video showed the plane falling into the brush, perhaps a hundred feet up the slope from the pine tree.

“What is that?” Heather asked, pointing at the dark screen.

Mark squinted down at the screen. “What? That’s just darkness after the crash.”

“No. There. That pale red glow at the corner.” Heather pointed to the upper-left corner of the screen.

Jennifer adjusted her glasses, leaning closer to the small screen. “I don’t know. It must be some sort of artifact of the impact. The camera must have shorted out.”

Mark stood. “Well, I guess there’s no use procrastinating. I’ll climb down and get it.”