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Title: Flying Saucers and the Cessna Airplane

Date Written: May 22, 1995

Date Edited for my Web Site: Feb. 17, 2019

Written By: Joel T. Kant

Copyright (c) 2019

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"Are you sure you have the proper forms?" asked a tall, slender, white-haired woman.

"Don't worry, Wendy," smiled a gray-haired man named Hank who was her one and only husband. "I've got all the correct permits. I also filled our plane with high octane aviation fuel."

Wendy asked, "You got genuine aviation fuel instead of gasoline? How much did that cost?"

Hank nodded and replied, "Quite a lot, but this is a special treat for our boy Steve."

Steve, who was a boy about fourteen, asked, "Granddad, what's aviation fuel?"

"Do you know what an internal combustion engine is?"

Steve answered, "Those used to be in automobiles. They burned an explosive liquid called gasoline."

"Right," replied Hank.

"I learned that in history class," replied Steve proudly.

The two old grandparents shared an exasperated glance.

Wendy elaborated, "We sometimes use gasoline in this Cessna. It works, but not as well. Hank, did you change back the carburetor jets and engine timing back for the aviation fuel?"

"Yes, dear."

Steve asked, "Aviation fuel is like gasoline?"

Hank said, "Yes, but with a higher octane-rating. This plane has been modified to use either gasoline or aviation fuel, whichever we can get. It runs better on aviation fuel, though."

The three of them pushed the plane out of the shed and onto the grassy field. Steve was surprised how strong his grandparents were at pushing the plane despite their advanced age. The plane was clean and bright white.

Looking at it, Steve asked, "Couldn't you put an electric motor and a fusion cell in this instead?"

Wendy answered, "Sure, but it wouldn't be the same. You'll see. When we go up, listen to the roar of the engine. Feel the vibrations. This is what flying used to be, before the saucers."

Steve looked nervously at the plane, "It's so delicate compared to a saucer. It looks dangerous."

"Steve," said Hank gravely, "You don't have to come up. This old plane is certainly not as safe as saucer, but your grandmother is an excellent pilot."

Steve replied, "I want to come. Mom and both my Dads said I could. Bio-Dad said that I should feel history in action while I still can!"

Hank and Wendy were Steve's maternal grandparents. Unlike some kids his age, he had only one Mom.

Hank grinned and announced, "Good, then you are in for an adventure to remember for the rest of your life."

Steve observed, "This machine has a shape like a bird. Do those wings flap?"

Hank answered, "No, the wings do not flap."

Wendy elaborated on her one and only husband's answer, "See these parts on the wing? These are ailerons. They move to direct the air, but they do not flap. Back here, this vertical plane is called the rudder. It also moves to direct the air. Also here on the tail, these horizontal moveable surfaces here are called elevators."

Steve skeptically responded, "That seems a strange way to control a flying machine!"

Wendy said, "Watch how I use the controls when we are in the air." Steve nodded, then said, "I'll watch for that. I'm ready!"

Hank smiled back and said, "Good! Climb up and get in the back seat."

Steve scampered into the plane and got behind the two front seats. As Hank and Wendy got in. They went through a careful preflight check, as Steve nervously shuffled around in his seat. Hank showed him how to use the seat belts. Steve leaned as far forward as he could after being belted in and peered at the archaic analog instruments.

Wendy fired up the engine. With a loud roar, the carefully and expensively rebuilt engine came to life. Steve covered his ears, then laughed when he realized it really wasn't unbearably loud.

Wendy said, "Here we go."

She pulled the throttle all the way out. The engine's roar grew. The plane bounced along the grassy field. After moving most of the way down the field, Wendy pulled back on the controls. The bouncing abruptly stopped.

Startled by the sudden smoothness, Steve hurriedly looked out the window, "We're in the air!"

The plane rose over the orchard of Gryzboz trees next to the grassy fields. From the air, the large trees had the appearance of purple dyed tufts of cotton.

Hank reminisced, "Thirty years ago, those fields would have all been corn."

As they gained altitude, Wendy turned the plane toward the distant megapolis. Among the distant towering building and spires, disk-shaped flying saucers zipped around.

Hank pointed, "That building to the left with the pyramid on the roof is your condo, Steve."

"I know. I've seen it from the air many times in Dad's saucer."

A white and black flying saucer made a sharp ninety-degree turn to come toward the airplane. It raced over to the plane, then slowed to pace it. The saucer was about four times larger than the plane.

The radio came to life with a human male voice, "I didn't know any of those private airplanes still existed in flying condition! I?ve only seen planes like that in museums. Is that a Piper Cub?"

Hank grabbed the old-style microphone which still had a coiled wire cord.

"It's a Cessna Super 150. Please don't get so close, officer. The vortices from your saucer could cause us to lose control."

The saucer pulled away a bit as the officer asked, "Can you turn on your video?"

Hank said, "Haven't got video. This plane has an original equipment exemption."

"I just need to check your pollution permit. Read off the code."

Hank got out the form, then read off a long string of letters and numbers.

After a pause, the voice came back, "It checks out. I wish I could get one of those pollution permits. I've got my great-grandfather's classic Chevy muscle car, a Chevy Nova from the Seventies of the twentieth century, but I haven't been able to run it in five years. Keep your plane out of the city limits. It was great the one time when I had got a pollution permit five years ago. You should have heard the sound of the V-8 engine!"

Hank said, "I remember hearing classic cars like that. I saw a car like you described at a gathering just two years ago at my history club meeting. It was even driven around."

"Where was that?" asked the officer.

Hank told the officer how to contact his history club, then said, "We will stay out of the city limits. My wife and I just wanted to get close enough to show our grandson the view of his condo. We're heading up to the mountains next."

"Have a good trip," replied the voice of the officer. "And I'll contact your history club! I'd love to hear great-grandfather's car run again!"

The police saucer zipped off. As it did so, the Cessna shuddered. Wendy struggled with the controls and soon had it flying smoothly again.

Steve said, "Wow, the plane shook. That was better than the roller coaster at the amusement park."

"That's what happens when a saucer gets too close," explained Hank.

"I'm turning toward the mountains," announced Wendy.

Steve watched out the window as the plane steeply banked. The saucers had inertial dampers and artificial gravity so didn't have to lean into turns like this. Steve had fun fighting the gee force that he had never felt before in all his flying.

The plane straightened and flew over some foothills. Wendy pointed out some birds rising on a thermal updraft. Wendy guided the plane over a large black pavement parking lot. Only a few saucers were parked in it. The pavement had baked in the sun for hours. From the rising heated air, the plane noticeably lifted.

The boy laughed and reasoned out, "We're rising like the birds! That's from hot air rising, isn't it?"

Wendy replied, "You're a bright boy, Steve! You got it correct." Wendy then guided the plane into the mountains. She didn't get close enough for the winds to be overly tricky. Hank pointed to one mountain and said that was the mountain that they had hiked last summer.

After some time flying around the mountains, Wendy headed back into the foothills.

"I see a saucer coming," warned Steve.

Hank looked at the direction that his grandson was looking, then announced to Wendy, "A saucer's approaching fast from three-o'clock. It's heading straight for us."

All three watched as the circular spot steadily grew in size.

Hank announced, "It's still coming."

Wendy changed course to a much larger extent.

Hank said, "It is still heading straight at us, dear."

"How can you tell that?" asked Steve.

"The angle doesn't change from my viewpoint," said Hank while he still stared out at the disk as it steadily grew in size but did not have any apparent motion other than the size change.

"I don't understand," said Steve.

Wendy changed course again.

Hank said, "I'll explain later. It's still heading at us."

The saucer suddenly grew to its full size and shot past the plane. It went by like a missile. The plane shook and twisted. Wendy fought the controls. Suddenly, the plane stalled as it spun upward. Wendy dropped the nose and regained control. The plane leveled out.

Wendy complained, "Jerk! Did you get his license number?"

"No," said Hank, "he went by too fast. All I can tell is it is bright red in color."

"It's coming back," said Steve.

The saucer raced past the nose of the plane. Again, the plane was tossed around. The plane's nose dropped. The plane spun violently around as it raced toward the ground. Steve was tossed around, banging his head. Wendy's arm muscles tensed as she battled the controls. Suddenly, the plane pulled out of the spin and leveled out.

"Hey, I'm bleeding," said Steve as he touched his forehead.

Hank turned in his seat. Steve had a small cut above one eye. Hank pressed a white handkerchief to Steve's head.

Hank said, "It's not a bad cut. Can you hold this against it?"

Steve replied, "Yes."

Wendy said, "Hank, it's swinging back at us."

Hank sat firmly back in his own seat as the saucer shot by overhead. This time, Hank was able to read the black numbers printed on side of the red saucer. The small, lightweight plane tossed about like a leaf in the wind, but did not go into a spin.

Hank grabbed the microphone. He opened the police channel. He described the incident, giving the saucer number.

"It's clearly intentional!" Hank stated into the mike.

With fear, Steve said, "It's coming around again!"

A metallic, inhuman voice from the radio said, "Please turn on your video, sir."

The huge saucer causing the problem pulled in front of the plane and then abruptly slowed in a maneuver that back in the automobile days was called brake-checking to irritate the driver behind the leading car. Wendy yanked on her controls. The plane pulled over the top of the saucer. As it went over it, the plane was tossed aside by the vortices of the saucer, being tossed like a leaf in a stiff breeze. Steve screamed as he realized the plane was upside down. Wendy quickly got the plane properly oriented.

The saucer flashed away. In the distance, it reversed direction.

"Hang on," said Wendy.

While this was going on, Hank explained that this historic plane had no video device to the officer on the radio.

Wendy took the plane back into the mountains. As the saucer raced back, Wendy took the plane into a narrow valley. The saucer veered off. Being larger than the plane, getting into the valley would be a tight fit, and its pilot didn't risk it.

Wendy stayed in the valley as long as she could. As the Cessna emerged back out of the cliffs on either side, they saw the welcome sight of a police saucer hovering next to the troublesome saucer. They could tell it wasn't the same police saucer as earlier, as this one was a little larger with more trim, and looked newer. The two saucers headed toward the large parking lot that Wendy had used to get a thermal lift earlier.

The Cessna trailed behind the two saucers. Even at full throttle, the plane couldn't keep up. Up ahead, both saucers hovered down and came to a rest.

Wendy looked down at this, "The lot is mostly empty and long enough. I'm heading down."

Hank double checked Steve. The cut on Steve's forehead only bled slightly. Wendy then brought the plane down for a perfect landing. She then taxied over by the two saucers and shut down the engine.

Outside the saucers stood some several short, slender silver beings with huge pale blue eyes with black slits for pupils. The three humans realized it was Andelvarians for all of them, the pilot of the red saucer that had caused the near accidents and the two cops from the black-and-white police saucer. Hank, Wendy, and Steve climbed out of the plane. One of the Andelvarian cops came over.

The cop demanded, "Who was flying this polluting obsolete toy kite?"

"I was," said Wendy.

The silver-skinned cop ordered, "Put your hands on your head and turn around. You are under arrest, polluter!"

An Andelvarian not dressed in police clothes appeared to be the pilot of the other saucer. He drew heavily on a large pipe. He blew out a thick cloud of smoke. Steve wrinkled his nose at the disturbing odor of tobacco.

"We have a pollution permit," objected Hank.

"They're polluters," snarled the smoker, "I had to bring them down, officer."

"I understand," said one of the officers.

"Understand what?" snapped Wendy. "We nearly crashed. That Andelvarian was trying to make us crash."

Hank chimed in, "Look at my grandson's head. That injury was caused by his reckless flying!"

One of the cops looked at the cut, "It's a small cut. Besides, you humans heal fast."

"I demand you arrest that pilot," shouted Hank.

Both cops laughed.

When one stopped laughing, he said, "You brought the trouble on yourself flying such a polluting toy. You're just some more human thrill seekers. You should keep out of the airways and get your thrills bungee jumping or climbing cliffs or something like that where you only endanger yourselves and not any Andelvarians."

"We did not endanger the saucer," said Wendy. "We stayed far away from all saucers. He chose to come in very close to us."

"That polluting, motorized kite thing kept getting in my way, officer. It's a hazard in the air," said the pilot with the tobacco pipe putting out another thick waft of smoke.

"I'm sure this clumsy junk did get in your way," agreed an officer.

Wendy tried a different tack, "That pilot's smoking tobacco. Tobacco smoke affects Andelvarian reflexes like ethanol affects human beings. He shouldn't be flying in that condition."

One of the cops shrugged, "We Andelvarians' have to do something to deal with the stress of being on your backward planet. You wouldn't have fusion cells or flying saucers without our technology. You should be grateful we are here." Hank said, "Tobacco smoke is also a form of air pollution."

The smoker smiled and deliberately blew into Hank's face, then said, "Tobacco is a natural plant, so the smoke from it is natural. No pollution permit is needed from that. The fuel from that gets processed from petroleum, which is not natural."

Hank coughed from the smoke.

The other cop told the smoking pilot, "You can go, Sir. Fly carefully."

The pilot winked one of his enormous, deeply bloodshot eyes. Since his blood was green, the blood visible blood vessels in the oversized eyes were green not red.

As the one cop walked the pilot back to his saucer, the other cop carefully examined the pollution permit Hank had handed over. Hank was worried that the cop would find some problem with it, although he had been very careful getting it. Perhaps the cop would simply make up some problem. Hank had heard that sometimes happened. The cop took the permit and climbed into the black and white saucer.

The other saucer shot into the air. It raced off so quickly that a sonic boom shook the beings standing on the ground.

While the one cop was still inside the saucer with the pollution permit, the other cop came over and cuffed Wendy.

"That isn't necessary," said Hank.

"She gets them for being the pilot of that polluting machine. You just earned cuffs for yourself as well by talking back. I have another pair. My cuffs are specially sized for humans. Turn around."

Hank stood insolently with clenched fists. Slowly, he unclenched his fists and turned around. This was not a fight an old man like him could win.

Steve watched what was happening to his grandparents silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The other cop came out of the saucer, "I don't know how they got it, but believe it or not, that pollution permit checks out! They were even cleared less that twenty minutes ago by a human officer. We've got orders to let them go!"

Obviously disappointed, the cop let Hank face forward again, and put away his second set of cuffs. As he did this, he said, "The Grand Marshal letting humans be officers in their own saucers without our supervision was a big mistake!"

The silver skinned officer holding the pollution permit replied, "The political decision to allow that was made far above my pay grade. Take the cuffs off the female human."

The other officer removed the handcuffs from Wendy. As she rubbed her wrists, the officer said, "It had to be a human that issued that pollution permit! Humans should never be allowed that much authority!"

The other cop handed the pollution permit back to Hank.

As Hank took it from the cop handing it over, the cop said, "Even though your permit checks out, you really shouldn't be using an internal combustion engine. Still, I can't expect mere humans to understand ecological morality. Get out of here with your stinking, internal combustion toy flying machine. Stay far away from all saucers."

The officer putting his two pairs of human-sized handcuffs back on his wide belt on his inhumanly narrow waist, then grinned at them and said, "I've got good political connections. I'll see to it that you never get another pollution permit again! Enjoy your last flight ever, polluters!"

THE END

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