The Feminist Queendom Charlie’s War 32
©Beverly Taff

List of Characters.

Charlie Sage Maths and electronics genius.
Shirley Sage Charlies elderly mother
Chloe Charlie’s one time early school friend.
Josephine Flint Surgeon and associate of Chloe’s.
Mrs Jane Anston Director of Anston Aerospace.
Ronnie Garage mechanic at top of lane
Pauline Garage owner, Ronnie’s sister.
Briony Pauline’s teenaged daughter.
Billy Pauline’s middle son.
Abigail (Abby) Pauline’s youngest daughter.
‘Poppy’ Charlie’s little micro-runabout.
‘Doris’ The armoured mobile home.
‘Lady’ Chloe’s Sports Car.
Dawn Charlie’s armoured spaceship.
Colonel Wilson Vindictive misanthropist doctor.
Margaret Thomas ‘Failed’ police security guard.

Chapter 32.

As the spaceship ‘Dawn’ raced to keep distance between her and the approaching missile Margaret stared transfixed through her viewing port at the private jet. Every ten seconds, she gave a situation report to Charlie as he hunched over the control console whilst simultaneously monitoring the sea state.

He intended to use the heavy rain of the line squall as a sanctuary to hide from the missile’s radar and to make their defence more effective, he had to keep as close to the sea surface as possible.

“You’re getting very close to the water now!” Margaret advised. “I can’t tell if the trail we’re leaving is just the slipstream, or the tail of the jet skimming the water.”

Charlie sighed and adjusted Dawn’s altitude slightly.

“How’s that?”

“Better,” Margaret replied, “there’s definitely some light between the tail and the water.

“Okay, we’re entering the squall now, keep a good lookout, and check the engine nacelles as well, I don’t want to end up scooping water and ripping the wings off.”

“Not much chance of that,” Margaret replied. “She’s tail low and nose high. The engines are well clear of the water.”

“Good. The passengers will just have to love it or lump it.”

At that, there was an all-encompassing rattle as they entered the rain. The view ahead became almost impenetrable, and the sea started boiling beneath them. Charlie observed to Margaret.

“It’s rain and hail, so much the better. Hail is even better than rain for reflecting radar signals and it will atrophy any heat profiles better.”

Margaret pulled a rueful smile. ‘Charlie wasn’t sat down where she was with hail bouncing up from the fuselage and wings towards her open viewing port.’ Within seconds there were small deposits of hail caught in crannies around her coat as they swirled through the viewing port.

“How much longer in this hail?” She asked. “I’m getting covered in hailstones.”

The hail and rain were so dense that Charlie’s own radar was affected. As a precaution, he had altered course to go south and stay out of detection for a while longer but now he realised he had compromised Margaret who only had her police jacket on. Swiftly, he resumed his original course again for Oz and they emerged from the line squall very quickly. Charlie could only hope his ‘side-swipe’ had blinded the missile.
It hadn’t.
ooo000ooo

“You’ll have to close your viewing port!” He called back.

“The missile has still got us locked and it’s still flying.” I don’t know what range it has but I can’t take the risk of there being a chink in Dawn’s armour if the damned thing manages to reach us.”

Reluctantly Margaret cranked down the steel cover then dogged it down tight as Charlie increased the speed again. Being of no further use in the observation bay, she extricated herself and stretched with relief as she felt the spaceship start to surge forward.

“They’ll be having a bloody rough ride in the jet. I hope the kids are okay.”

“There’s not much else I can do. Keep a check on the radar. That blinking blob is the missile. The blinks are its radar signature.”

“It’s approaching quickly.”

“D’ you think I don’t know? You’d better secure yourself in a seat and hope it doesn’t penetrate the armour. Provided we stay this low it will miss the plane as it flies to avoid interference from sea clutter. It will hit us and not the plane, but I know Dawn can take it.”

“For a few moments, Margaret stared fascinated at the approaching blob before deciding she had best do as told and take a seat. She strapped herself in and waited as she watched Charlie’s knuckles whiten.”

Then the cabin darkened.

Charlie had closed an armoured visor over the navigating screen. Margaret realised they were sealed in like a tank.

“Hold on!” He cried just before there was a terrific clang as Dawn shuddered before the flash became evident through Charlie’s navigating slot.

“There followed a shriek of wind, but Margaret realised they were still intact.”

“What’s that screaming?”

“The hull is intact but some of the solar panels have been dislodged from their fixings. Hull integrity is not compromised but I’m going to slow down anyway. Check the radar to see what the planes are doing.”

Margaret left her seat to study the radar screens and reported.

“There’s two blobs astern of us but they’re not gaining as fast as the missile.”

“Any more missiles?”

“Not that I can see. Wonder why they haven’t fired more.” Margaret observed.

“I’ve no idea,” Charlie replied, “but let’s be thankful for small mercies.”

“I think the planes are slowing down; no, they’re falling back!”

Charlie turned his seat around and pressed a couple of buttons. A small screen revealed relative numbers and courses causing Charlie to sigh with relief.

“They’ve turned back. Short of fuel most likely.”

As he reopened the protective visor, he suggested Margaret go and check the plane.

“There’s a heavy anorak in those lockers that I use when I go to Antarctica. It’ll be too big for you but it’s better than nothing.”

She did put it on and savoured the warmth it lent. It was a bit trickier getting into the observation space, but the benefits of the coat were immediate when she undogged the inspection panel then wound it back. When she looked down, she gasped at what she saw.

“The missile hit us alright but on the after lower part. I can see where the solar panels have been blown off. The explosion must have damaged the jet’s tail plane, that’s what the screaming is. It’s not us, it’s the jet’s vertical fin.”

“How bad is it?”

“The whole of the upper tip is gone, and some torn plates are fluttering like mad. That’s what’s making the noise.”

“Is their fuselage perforated?”

“Not that I can see. The hook still seems secure, and the plane isn’t slipping off the hook.”

“Okay, I’ll very slowly increase to five hundred knots and see how things pan out. Are you warm down there?”

“Deliciously so. This coat is fabulous. What’s the fur?”

“Canadian arctic fox.”

“Naughty, naughty; they’re a protected species.”

“Yeah, well nobody’s perfect. It’d be nice if I had a protection order on me. It seems foxes are more valuable than men. How d’ you think that makes me feel?”

“That’s a ridiculous point of view!”
“Is it? I’m not allowed to shoot a fox or trap one, but they can shoot missiles at me and take my children into captivity. Yeah, ridiculous is as ridiculous does!”

“They shot at me as well; and a whole planeload of women.”

“They were gunning for me, and you know it.”

Margaret realised it was pointless arguing. The man had been experiencing such slights since seventh grade in school and he’d had years to perfect his arguments. She changed the subject.

“D’you want a cup of tea?” She asked him.

“I’d better make it. You’re more important down there.”

“How’s that.”

“You’re watching over my children. Nothing’s more important to me.”

Margaret took a double take as the insight rattled her opinions about men. The man was obviously prepared to risk his life and everything else to save four kids. She had always been taught that men weren’t interested in looking after children and the statistics she had been shown in police college supported that view.

Her flight on the Dawn was proving to be a painful, Damascus voyage of discovery. Then her introspections were interrupted by Charlie appearing with another tray of tea and biscuits. Not only was the tea welcome but so was his face, despite its concerned expression. He settled on the floor of the cabin and carefully handed down the tea. It was just how she liked it. Obviously, the man had been watching her making the previous cups.

Somewhat lost for words she smiled her thanks then added superfluously,

“It’s still secure on the hook; no movement.”

“Thanks,” he smiled; and she was glad to see that smile chase away the concerned frown on his face.

She was also relieved to sense that the smile was one of gratitude not predation and Charlie’s next words reinforced that.

“Chloe will be glad to see them safe as well.”

ooo000ooo

Once both of them were certain, the plane was still lodged firmly on the hook, they decided it was safe for Margaret to evacuate the inspection chamber and crawl out to sit comfortably on one of the cabin seats.

There they sat with Charlie sprawled easily across the command seat keeping half an eye on the instruments while Margaret occasionally checked through the inspection port to make sure the aircraft wasn’t working loose. For three hours they chatted at length and Margaret learned another truth about men.

They were not all taciturn, morose bullies.

Admittedly, Charlie did not talk much about himself and Margaret found she had to ask all the questions, but when he did answer her, it was often with an amusing anecdote or some hilarious insight. More importantly, he asked her questions and seemed to show a genuine spark of interest even when she found herself going off on one.

His pacifism intrigued her.

“You never seem to lose your temper or get angry.” She observed.

“There’s no point.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t achieve anything.”

“But I can sense your bile.”

Charlie grinned ironically.

“Women’s intuition, is it?”

“Hardly, it’s showing in your lips, the way they sit tight and slightly pursed. Your eyes are rarely fully open. The way you clench for fists, frequently. The muscles in your jaw show at the side where they bulge ever so slightly as though you’re grinding your teeth.”

“Why are you surprised? You’ve only seen me since my kids were snatched. Hardly a happy occasion, is it?”

“Will it get better if you return your kids safely to their mother?”

“You have to ask?” Charlie looked askance.

“I don’t know. My college course taught me that men were usually violent, greedy and selfish. You’re much more complex than that.”

“I can’t answer for what your course taught you, nor can I judge myself. I leave that to others.”

She was about to ask him about previous relationships before marriage, but their conversation was interrupted by the ARPA warning on the radar. Charlie turned to the screen and activated the identifier. Immediately the radio came to life.

“It’s the Australian air traffic.” He explained to Margaret.

She knew perfectly well what it was but bit her tongue. Normally his remark would have been deemed patronising or even insulting to a woman; and it could have landed him a fine under the feminista misogyny codes, but she let it ride. He had, after all, just pulled off a remarkable capture of twenty armed criminals with a remarkable craft.

He replied to the challenge as any layperson would.

“Hello to Australian air traffic. This is the spacecraft Dawn.”

“Hello Dawn. What’s your call sign.”

Charlie hesitated. He did not have a call sign for he had never needed one He turned to Margaret.

“What do I say. I don’t have a call sign, I’ve never had one.”

“Give them your position, course and speed. That will at least identify you on their radars.”

He promptly did as advised and waited for a response.

“Aircraft Dawn. What is your altitude?”

“One thousand metres and I’m manoeuvring with difficulty.”

“We have an EPIRB transmitting a distress signal from that position. It’s from a private UQ jet. Can you explain?”

Margaret became impatient and held out her hand for the mike.

“Let me explain. I’ve at least got an official identity.”

“Be my guest.” Charlie conceded. “I’ll bet they’re already doing back-flips over a man’s voice.”

“That and god knows what else!” Margaret Conceded as she started to give chapter and verse.

ooo000ooo