Angry Moon

Chapter 19b

     When Margaret drove anywhere, she normally liked to take the back roads and enjoy the rustic scenery, but Captain McMillan clearly wanted to get her there as quickly as possible and so he told the car to take the most direct route. The car took them to the A16, therefore, to the Sutterton roundabout where they turned left onto the A17. As always, the traffic was dominated by huge trucks carrying shipping containers and other forms of cargo. What family cars there were stayed in the outermost lanes while the driverless trucks thundered past them on the innermost three lanes. The countryside around them was covered with snow and another flurry was beginning to fall, slipping off the frictionless windscreen to leave it so perfectly clear that it was easy to believe that there was nothing between them and the cold winter air. Of course, if that had been the case, the car would have been nothing like as cosy and warm as it was. Margaret relaxed in her seat and watched the world go by while the music continued to play.

     RAF Cranwell consisted of a hundred acres of flat grassland containing two runways crossing each other almost at right angles and two clusters of buildings. One cluster of buildings was responsible for the day to day business of running an airport and also contained the Royal Air Force College that trained new officers and aircrew. The hangers in which the aircraft were stored and serviced were also in that area, although separated from the other buildings by an area of snow covered tarmac. After passing the gate and checkpoint in the barbed wire fence, though, the car took them to the other cluster of buildings, which served as housing for the airport’s personnel and such guests as they might be hosting at the time.

     As they passed the closer of the two hangers, Margaret saw a Typhoon parked on the tarmac in front of it. Gleaming silver and white, its cockpit dome shining in the sun. She craned her neck to keep the fighter in sight as the car turned away from it, wondering whether she'd get a chance for a closer look at it during her time there. There was no-one in sight near it. There didn't seem to be anything to stop someone from walking right up to it.

     “Beautiful, isn't it?” said Captain McMillan. “We've got four of them here, four of the new ones with all new avionics. It looks the same, but it’s a completely new aircraft in every way that matters. I've flown one myself. Amazing aircraft, and forty per cent of it was built right here in Britain.”

     “They say it’s the best in the world,” said Margaret. “My husband certainly thinks so.”

    “He's right. Has he ever flown one?”

     “Not a Typhoon. He was in the navy air wing originally, before he entered the space program. He flew 147's a couple of times, but he was mainly an F 35 pilot, flying from the Prince of Wales.”

     “That's a fine plane too. A bit long in the tooth these days, but still a good airframe. Many countries around the world still have them as the backbone of their air forces.”

     “It's funny that you still need pilots for them. We've got self driving cars, self driving trucks and ships, self driving passenger aircraft...”

     "Well, drones are becoming more and more important in air combat, it's true, but they're too vulnerable to jamming and hacking. No, combat aircraft are going to need human pilots for a long, long time to come.”

     “Good. How does the Typhoon really compare to the F 35? The Americans always say their aircraft is better.”

     “Well, the F 35 is partly British as well, the yanks tend to forget that. And everyone thinks their own aircraft is best. The Russians think their SU 57 is best and the Chinese think their J 20 is best. They’re all designed for slightly different operational roles, of course, and some are better at one thing while another is better at another, but with the new avionics ours is without doubt the best fighter killer in the world. In a one to one showdown, there's nothing in the air that can match it.”