Harry Turtledove - A World of Difference

“Get Damselfly over Jotun Canyon?” Sarah said faintly. “Any kind of nasty wind and I could be several miles straight down, too.”

Bragg nodded. “I know that. I told Tolmasov I wouldn’t give you any orders, and I’m not. But he asked for our help, and if there is any, you’re it. You’re the doctor, and you’re the pilot here, too. It’s up to you, Sarah. No hard feelings if you say no.”

“Except to the hurt Russian,” she pointed out. “If he lives to have them.”

“There is that,” Bragg said.

“Sarah-“ Irv began, and then shut up. She knew a moment’s gratitude that he recognized the decision was not his to make.

“Let me see the map,” she said. Emmett Bragg passed it to her. She studied it. “How wide is the canyon fight here? It seems to be one of the narrower stretches. Is it less than ten miles? It looks like it.”

Bragg took the map back. He pulled a clear plastic ruler from one of his coverall pockets and applied it to the image of the gap and then to the scale of miles at the bottom left-hand comer of the sheet. “Good eyeballing,” he said. “It’s just under nine, as a matter of fact.”

“Bryan Allen flew Gossamer Albatross across the English Channel. That’s twice as far and then some, and I’ve got a better plane than the Albatross ever dreamed of being,” Sarah said. “I’m going.”

“If the Gossamer Albatross came apart, all what’s-his-name would have got was wet,” Irv said. “If something goes wrong with Damselfly, or if you get the winds you know perfectly well you could-”

Sarah did not want to think about that. Jotun Canyon was deep enough that, if the worst did happen, she would have plenty of time to reflect on her folly as she fell. “Irv, if you were hurt on this side of the canyon and the Russians had a plane, I hope they’d try to help.”

Frank Marquard had been quiet till now. “How high are the canyon walls on either side, relative to each other?” he asked abruptly. “If the land west of the canyon is a quartermile higher than it is on this side, you won’t be able to climb up to it. If it’s a quartermile lower, you’ll never get back.”

Everyone crowded around to peer at the map, either upside down or over Emmett Bragg’s shoulder. “Seems all right,” Sarah said after a long, hard look. “Call Tolmasov, Emmett. Tell him I’m on my way. Find out what first aid supplies their rover has, too. I’ll save weight with my kit that way, because I won’t carry anything they already have.”

“Right.” Bragg turned to his wife and Irv. “Y’all heard the lady. Break out the pieces of Damselfly and get ‘em onto the towing carts. Pulling ‘em to the edge of the canyon, I. expect you’ll be working near as hard as Sarah will going over.” Louise simply nodded and left. Irv followed a moment later, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

There’s nothing I can do about it, Sarah wanted to call after him. But he knew that as well as she did. Knowing and accepting were two different things-all she needed to do was think of Lamra to see the truth there.

“I’ll get my bike, too,” Pat Marquard said.

“What for?.” Sarah, Emmett, and Frank all spoke together. “So you can ride behind me,” Pat said to Sarah, as if the two men were not there. “You should be fresh when you get into Damselfly, not worn out from spending half a day pedaling.”

That made such plain good sense that Sarah could only nod her thanks and hug Pat, who returned the embrace. Emmett Bragg lifted the radio microphone. “Athena calling Soviet expedition.”

The reply was immediate. “Tolmasov here. Go ahead, old man.”

“Sergei Konstantinovich, our doctor will try, repeat try, to fly Damselfly across Jotun Canyon to help your injured crewman.”

“Thank you very much, Brigadier Bragg. We are in your debt.”

“You don’t thank me, you thank the lady, and I just may call in that debt one day, if I see a way to do it.”

“Er, yes.” Tolmasov sounded wary again, Sarah thought, frowning. Emmett never let up; he saw everything as a confrontation.

As if to belie that, the mission commander went on, “For now, though, we only need to know what your rover has in the way of medical gear, so we can avoid duplication.”

With Athena’s computers, any of the Americans could have called up the answer to that as fast as he typed in the question. Tolmasov’s promised “One moment, please,” stretched to sew eral minutes. At least he had what Sarah needed when he finally did come back on the air. That, she supposed, counted for something.

Mist and distance shrouded the land on the western side of Jotun Canyon. Sarah did stretching exercises to work out the kinks of a morning and early afternoon spent riding behind Pat Marquard. After a moment, Sarah turned her back on the canyon. She did not want to think about it before she had to.

Instead, she watched her husband and Louise Bragg reassemble Damselfly. Irv was whistling something as he made sure every wingnut was tight. Sarah took longer than she should have to recognize “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.” She started to let out a snort, then stopped abruptly. If using a silly song helped remind him to be careful, that was all right with her.

“Ready when you are,” Louise said a little later. Pat, who had been reduced to a spectator once they got to the edge of the canyon, made herself useful by carrying the special wide stepladder to Damselfly.

“Let’s do it.” Sarah got out of her jacket and insulated pants and immediately started to shiver. Jogging over to Damselfly did nothing to warm her up.

Irv waited at the top of the stepladder to help her down into the ultra-ultralight. When she was seated, he handed her the clear plastic bag in which she had put her supplies-it was a pound or more lighter than her regular medical bag. She secured it to a spar behind her with duct tape.

“Be careful,” Irv said. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” She strapped the biking helmet under her chin. When she was done, she reached up to touch his cheek. “This is what you get for marrying a doctor. I’ll be all right.”

“You I wouldn’t worry about. But this damn contraption isn’t made for the kind of air you may get over the canyon.”

She shrugged. “People aren’t made for banging their heads, either.” Checking to be sure the prop was not engaged, she started pedaling furiously to charge the battery-and to stop her teeth from chattering. She hardly noticed Irv lowering the canopy over her and dogging it in place.

“Radio check,” Louise said. “Testing, one, two, three.”

“Read you five by five,” Sarah answered. “How do you read me?”

They went through the rest of the preflight checklist, making sure all the controls worked. Sarah watched the charge gauge climb. By the time the battery was all the way up, she was no longer freezing. She glanced to either side. Irv and Louise were standing by at Damselfly’s wingtips. She waved to show them she was ready. When they waved back, she flicked the propeller-control switch. The big airfoil, taller than she was, began to spin.

Damselfly rolled bumpily forward, the two wingpersons-a word Sarah formed and rejected in the same instant-running alongside to hold it level. “Airborne!” Irv yelled as the ultra-ultralight lifted off the ground.

“Roger,” Sarah said, to let him and Louise know she knew. As always, Damselfly was painfully slow gaining altitude. Even so, after less than a minute the ground dropped away as if the plane had a rocket in its tail. “Watch that first step,” she murmured to herself as she peered down and down and down into Jotun Canyon. “It’s a mother.”

“Say again, Damselfly?” Louise quested.