Any preconceived notions of how I would heroically start the propeller, away the chocs and be in Morocco for last orders were swiftly dealt a death blow as we rounded the corner of the hangar, and saw not an old WWII biplane or even a modern monoplane but a smaller jet without even a propeller on the nose. My eyes had been playing tricks on me and at first I couldn’t figure out how, but stepping back and reassessing the situation, for all it was worth, I realised I had not been seeing a propeller but merely a giant aloe plant situated slightly beyond the border fence behind the hangar. The long spiny green arms at a distance had appeared like blades on the end of the plane’s nose.
I almost cried in frustration, at my own stupidity as much as out of genuine disappointment. I leapt up on the nose of the plane and tried to glance through into the cockpit. It was as I expected; a row of dials, buttons, knobs and displays that meant I may as well be speaking Hungarian as flying this aircraft.
Akari was also wandering around the plane looking for some sign that would indicate how to operate it. Like me she was clutching at straws, and was probably doing so more out of simple desperation than the actual hope of finding something.
The jet was clearly a private or charter plane. Large bold letters displayed E-JET under the cockpit, and looking through I could see just three luxurious looking leather chairs in the cabin behind the two pilot’s seats.
I jumped down off the nose and approached the door. There was a handle set back into the bodywork in the shape of a doorstop with a keyhole in the middle. Obviously we had no key, but I thought back to the huge metal door on the radio outpost and how I had been ready to give up on that when in fact it had been open all along. I pushed the handle in, and it gave a little, the thin end poking out of the bodywork and demanding to be turned. I noticed there was also a pushbutton above the handle, with a small LED light that lit up as I turned the handle counter-clockwise. I pushed the button, and a hissing noise caused me to jump back in surprise, walking backwards into Akari who had been standing directly behind me. We both looked at each other in amazement as the jet’s staircase began to unfold itself in all its hydraulic glory.
I stepped inside and Akari followed behind me. It was a lot smaller inside than I had expected, having only ever been on big passenger jets before. It was no larger than a luxury sedan car, and I wondered if I’d have the balls to even be flown in one of these at however many thousand feet let alone try and fly it myself.
But then, we had no choice.
Akari coughed violently behind me, and hawked up a glob of blood which she spat out the open doorway as daintily as she could.
“Hayaku,” she rasped nonchalantly, circling her hands, and I took that to mean get a goddamn move on, matey. I nodded briskly and headed into the cockpit. It smelled of expensive leather and cologne, rather like I would have imagined an Oxford professor’s study to smell. This was clearly an expensive craft, with walnut burr paneling and leather lining surrounding my head. It was so small though! I wondered how anyone could be cooped up in this space for an extended period of time without suffering from claustrophobia.
I sat down in the left pilot’s chair. Being right handed it made more sense even though the throttle or steering wheel or whatever it was called was in front of me. It felt more natural having my right hand next to the main controls rather than my left.
I tried to get a grip on the controls in front of me. I reasoned that everything looked complicated because I didn’t know what it did, so if I tried to familiarise myself with the controls then it would become more natural. I pushed the steering wheel up and down, as if I were test driving a new car. I nodded in approval as it felt strong and didn’t give much. Despite the situation I felt a curious sense of power being behind the controls of this powerful aircraft, much more so than driving an expensive car. Then I snapped out of it. Another flashback came to me of my grandfather’s old boiler buddy croaking: “It doesn’t take much to control a plane,” and certainly with all these dials and switches it seemed like the plane could pretty much fly itself as long as I could get it going…
Wishful thinking? I asked myself.
In front of me there were six main controls. Airspeed Indicator, that was self- explanatory. Artificial Horizon, with a plane image that showed whether it was banking left or right. Fine.
Altimeter was the height gauge, presumably above sea level.
Turn and Bank Indicator I had no idea, but presumably it was to do with how fast or slow one was changing course and whether or not it was dangerous.
The Heading Indicator was just a compass, easy. I guessed we wanted to head mainly east.
Finally the Vertical Speed Indicator was again pretty self-explanatory, or how fast one was climbing or descending in feet per minute.
I took a deep breath and felt more at ease. Akari coughed again and I could hear her hacking.
“OK, love,” I said, “prepare for take off…”
I looked around. She had collapsed into one of the plush leather chairs, and was desperately struggling to breathe. No time for jokes I thought, and scanned for an ignition control. I had half expected it but it was still a huge surprise when I found it located just behind the control stick and low and behold there was a key stuck in it.
It looked like the same key that could have been used to open or lock the main door. The key was turned to the OFF position, naturally. But next to it there were four other possible options to turn it to. MAG 1, MAG 2, BOTH, and START. I didn’t want to start messing round with MAGs, whatever they were, so I just grabbed the key, held my breath and turned it to the full START position.
Lights blinked into life all around me, and a hissing noise permeated through the cockpit that sounded much more encouraging than worrying. But as far as the engine revving into life went, nothing happened of course.
Had I really expected it to start chugging like a Ford Escort? This was clearly a fuel powered jet and needed combustible fuel to operate. That, I had learned, did not seem to exist on this island. However there was another button that said IGNITION. Perhaps it was like a scooter, where you turned the key then fired the spark plugs by pressing the ignition button! I took another breath and pushed this without much hope.
Again, nothing.
The lights and controls were still whirring, but I reasoned this is because they were battery powered. As much as I was expecting it, it took a deep chunk out of my soul to admit to myself there that we weren’t going to be flying anywhere on this aircraft.
Akari was breathing shallowly from behind me. I felt a curious sort of resignation, like this was it. I had tried everything and failed. I rose from the cockpit, taking care not to bang my head on the ceiling, and went into the cabin area plonking myself down on the extremely comfortable chair next to Akari.
She was almost gone, I thought as I looked at her. Her eyes were glazed over, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Blood had congealed on the corners of her mouth and she looked like a cancer sufferer in the last throes of life. Her colour had vanished and she was almost see-through.
I leaned over to her and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. She was cool and dry to the touch.
“I’m sorry, darling,” I said through tears. “I’m so sorry.”