Trent Reedy - Stealing Air

“Good point.” Alex motioned toward the hole. “You first.”

Brian took a deep breath and crawled down into the tunnel.

The tunnel was about two feet deep and nearly three feet wide. Brian ran his hands along the smooth walls and floor. The dirt had been hardened with some kind of clear sealant, so there was no dust or loose pebbles. The floor of the shack was cut out next to the wall, so he entered the building as soon as he stood up.

“Oh… wow.”

He had expected to find a dusty tool shed full of shovels and rakes, maybe an old lawn mower. Instead, he had emerged into what looked like a science lab. A white sheet hung over something on a wood table in the center of the room. Whatever was under the sheet was so big that it stuck out past the edge of the table on both sides. Technical diagrams, blueprints, and complex mathematical equations with some symbols Brian had never even seen covered the walls. There wasn’t a speck of dust or a cobweb anywhere.

On a big wood workbench on the far wall was another rocket like the one from Max’s bike. A life-size Captain Kirk cardboard cutout stood next to the bench. Model airplanes and a few model starships hung from the ceiling. Brian recognized some little biplanes, the starship Enterprise , a couple jets, a Romulan warbird — even the SR-71 Blackbird.

“What is all this?” Alex said as soon as he entered.

“Gentlemen,” Max said. “Welcome to what I like to call the Eagle’s Nest.”

“The Eagle’s Nest?” Alex asked.

Max shrugged. “It sounds better than ‘secret workshop.’”

Whatever Max called it, it was well equipped. Another workbench ran the length of the wall under which Max had tunneled. That held a huge assortment of tools: saws, screwdrivers, hammers, sanders, chisels, pliers, clamps, soldering irons, even a big vise on the end.

“Is this a computer?” Alex was looking over a bunch of hardware on a table at the south end of the shed. A couple of screens, a keyboard, and three computer towers had been opened up and wired together. “Did you build this thing yourself?”

Max nodded. “It’s a hybrid, constructed from several older models that my father was no longer using. The three computers working together form an impressively efficient system.”

“You got Internet?” Alex asked. Max nodded again. Alex examined the computer more closely. “Yeah, but how? You couldn’t call the Internet company and have them install it in a secret workshop.”

“I’m picking up wireless.”

“From who?” Brian asked. “My grandpa isn’t online.”

Max took off his glasses and chewed the end of the earpiece. “That’s not important.”

“My house,” Alex said. “You’re stealing Internet from the wireless at my house across the street.”

Max put his glasses back on. “It’s not really stealing when people don’t password protect their wireless routers.”

Alex folded his arms over his chest. “It’ll be password locked from now on, Mad Max. Believe me.”

“Max, how did you get all this stuff in here?” Brian asked. “It wouldn’t fit through the tunnel.”

Max went to the north end and tapped a small metal plate on one of the big double doors. “The padlock on the outside is rusted nearly solid, but if I take out a few screws, the whole locking mechanism falls off outside. I brought the big stuff in through the doors when it was dark or when Brian’s grandpa was away.”

“And you’ve been using his electricity,” Brian said. “How long have you been breaking in here like this?”

Max fidgeted. “I realize this could be construed as criminal trespassing, but it was the only place I could find in town to work on all of this in secret.”

Brian looked at the diagrams, the model airplanes, and the sheet-covered thing on the table in the center of the room. It all pointed toward the impossible… except that Max had already proved he was pretty smart and resourceful, the kind of guy who could build a mostly successful rocketbike. He grabbed the sheet and yanked it away.

“Oh wow,” Brian whispered again.

A real airplane rested on the table. This was no toy, no model. It was a full-size flyer, a low-winged aircraft like many he’d seen at the air shows he and his father used to attend — functional and well-assembled, unmistakably homemade, but with a certain elegance. She was constructed from gleaming white plastic, about eight feet from propeller to tail and nine feet from wingtip to wingtip. She reminded Brian of a soaring hawk, its head the engine up front, wings spread wide in the middle, and a light smaller tail rising up behind.

Almost afraid to touch her, he reached out slowly and spun the two-bladed propeller. “Is this a lawn mower engine?” The spark plug and pull start cable were in the right place, but it had been tipped on its left side, with its deck removed and a big plastic fuel tank to its right. The whole thing had been upgraded with a complex set of plastic tubes, cogs, and gears.

Max put his hand to the propeller to stop the spin. “It was a lawn mower, but I’ve created and installed smaller, lighter, stronger engine components that require less lubrication. The engine as originally designed had only one cylinder providing all its power. I’ve been able to add three more cylinders and improved engine efficiency enough that the flyer is up to about thirty horsepower, able to reach takeoff speed.”

“Takeoff speed?” Alex said. “You don’t think this thing will actually fly, do you? I mean, it has skateboards for wheels.”

Brian smiled. Alex was right. Instead of regular wheels, this aircraft rested on two parallel skateboards situated about a foot apart. A support strut extended down from the engine to a bar bolted across the noses of the skateboards. Two other struts rose from the middle of the boards, attaching under the wings near the center of the aircraft.

“The tilt of the nose on each skateboard, as well as the curve of the engine cover and wings, provides the lift,” Max said. “Also, despite their small size and light weight, skateboard wheels can handle the significant speed required for takeoff and landing.”

“That’s true.” Brian remembered his rocket-towed ride on Spitfire . He ducked under the wing, admiring the perfect aerodynamic curve of its underside, then moved the aileron flap up and down.

“But there’s no cockpit. No cabin,” Alex said.

“There’s not supposed to be a cabin on this aircraft,” said Max. “It’s completely open air.”

Alex tapped one of the models. “You mean like this biplane, with the pilot’s head sticking out the top?”

“No.” Max reached up and put a hand on each of the two green plastic school desk chairs bolted to the central beam. “The pilot and copilot just sit in these chairs with their legs on either side.”

“They ride it almost like a motorcycle?” Alex asked.

Max shrugged. “A flying motorcycle, I guess.” A clear plastic windshield mounted on top of the engine casing protected the pilot, who would control the plane with the simple throttle, yoke, and foot pedals arranged in front of the seat.

Max went to a drawer in the desk under his computer and pulled out a toy Star Trek phaser. He pressed a button on the phaser, shooting a small red dot of light onto the white wings. He’d put a laser pointer into a Star Trek weapon. Alex elbowed Brian and rolled his eyes as Max continued. “The wings are at the balance point, the center of gravity on the aircraft.” He shot the phaser at the engine. “The motor, though quite light, is still the heaviest component on the plane, so it’s right in front of the wings, while the tail rudder assembly provides a counterbalance in the rear. It is a very small, simple, lightweight aircraft. It could be used by the military or even to replace the automobile.”