Acme Professor Retired

It occurred to him…

From his office he sat with a fresh coffee in hand, looking out down the valley to the Mediterranean and he remembered years ago in his youth sitting about as usual for hours waiting to take up a “Glider” or as some call them a “Sailplane” in that beautiful scenery up in the area known as “Royal Deeside”in Scotland at the Deeside Gliding Club at Aboyne.

The days when they were gliding, with perfect conditions, either a sunny day with lots of thermals over the green fields below, or ridge soaring using the air currents kicked up by winds speeding over the high terrain of the Scottish highlands nearby, were simply glorious.

But getting the gliders in the air, and the “air traffic “ control palaver, organising everyone, getting all safely airborne using the “Tow” aircraft that dragged the gliders behind it into the air, or the large mobile winch that pulled the gliders into the wind, and overhead using a long wire, was over complex in the professors mind now, looking back on it.

Surely there was a better way now to get these magnificent gossamer light aircraft aloft? Nothing had basically changed in getting gliders airborne in the last 50 plus year….mmm.

He let his thoughts wander, with a multitude of images and random thoughts, and half remembered dreams, as was his process of gathering his thoughts. What a wonderful expression that was. “Gathering One’s Thoughts!”

He smiled as the images and thoughts swirled around in his mind.

In nanoseconds that marvellous organ of mankind, or whatever people called it nowadays, he really couldn’t keep up with the retroactive swathes of change sweeping through society nowadays, in language especially, that people of his generation were just supposed to re-learn?
But his nanoseconds were paying off, in his mind things were forming.

Formula 1 safety structure cells to protect the drivers from high speed impacts, images of people gently gliding all by themselves on super light parachutes to earth, and some actually rising as if by an unseen hand, the gliders simply rising straight up, as if softly blown up into the air by some sweet breath, then fiery red hot spinning machines, powering up into the sky, but wait they were small, very small, and there were just so many of them!

Ah, the smelly old Gliding Clubhouse with that dusty musty old atmospheric bar, sticking doors and leaking roof but filled with softly spoken genteel ladies and gentlemen, recounting moments of sheer terror, and common funny stories of landing in irate farmers fields. Daring cross country flights, pushing the envelopes of endurance and clever on the spot flying innovations, with a lot of very earnest praying at times!

So, the old place had a new door leading towards what was just the parking lot before, yes the imagery was clearing now, and in through that door was an exceptionally bright well lit space, almost like the outside was inside. In
fact the entire space was enclosed in a large plexiglass dome allowing a clear view of the airfield and of the skies above.

Neat screens were positioned in the centre and head up displays were even projected onto the large dome, showing the locations and tracks of all aircraft from the club and everything else flying in the area.

Collision warning software projecting tracks onto the dome, clearing showing in red any conflicts of safety from potential collisions, plus also showed warnings for targets now nearing critical height required to safely return to the field and have enough altitude for a couple of circuits to get down safely.

Projected time/tracks to nearby airfields and known actual farmers fields and even beaches suitable for landing in emergencies. “Ah! Yes,” this future was becoming very real in the swirling thoughts and images in his mind’s-eye.

One thing did stand out, a strange angular thing sitting in front of the “Control Room” clearly now visible through the front of the dome, sitting on the grass.

Now what could that be? He could now see it forming in more detail, yes it was an oblong frame, consisting of squarish beams about 6 inches/15cm width and height.