Through Silent Skies

Chapter Nine

When I reach the hanger I find that the ground crew and technicians are busy working on Albatross. The access panels are open and leads are snaking away to various power supply or diagnostic trolleys. Bryan can be seen through the window of a portacabin in a huddle of conversation with a group of overalled technicians. Haradursson leads me through the partially open door without knocking and begins asking questions of the ground crew in icelandic.

I move next to Bryan. "How's it going?" I ask.

"Well, the consensus of opinion is that apart from the virch core which is still down and won't restart, the rest of the ship is OK. They've scanned the airframe and wing as comprehensively as they can given the basic equipment they have here, and not spotted any damage, and they've looked at the flight data."

"So what do they think caused our problems?"

"They think it was the sudden loss of connectivity which has shocked the core into crashing. They'd never seen anything like it until this happened."

"So it appears to us." Interjects one of the technicians in a heavily accented english now that his conversation with the Assistant Director has ended. "It is our considered opinion that your craft is flyable under emergency conditions in manual control. We do not recommend reengaging the core until such time as it has been given a thorough diagnostic check or replacement. On this basis it is our opinion you should be cleared to fly directly to a specialist repair facility if you choose to do so." I note Haradursson's face twisting into a snarl at seeing a decision being made beyond his competence. He looks as if he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it.

"Will you make a statement affirming all of what you've just told me and attach it to your report?" I ask the bearded chief engineer.

"Of course!" he replies, prompting another withering look from his superior "Were these ordinary times I would issue a Grounding Order until such time as an EASA inspection team is able to examine your craft, but these are not ordinary times." A look of pain - or is it grief? - crosses his face.

"I see."

"We are nearly finished. We need only to replace everything we have removed and conduct our final safety checks, then you are free to go if you choose."

"Not without an H refuelling and replacement water ballast!" says Bryan. "We used up nearly all of what we had getting here!"

"We have some stocks of liquid hydrogen, but the Assistant Director will need to approve it's release." Behind him Haradursson looks triumphantly smug.

"Well, as your Director is so eager for us to leave, that shouldn't be a problem!" I reply fixing the assistant's toady eyes with my gaze.

"The Director will have to approve it." says Haradursson. "Now that the airport is operating under a State of Emergency." His statement catches the technicians off guard; obviously they haven't been kept fully up to date. "I will have to seek his approval." At that moment the antique walkie-talkie clipped to his belt blurts an anxious message in Icelandic. He answers with a curt reply then says. "Captain Drake; we must discuss this later. Right now I am needed urgently elsewhere!" He turns on his heel and walks quickly out.

"What was all that about?" asks Bryan to no one in particular.

The chief engineer replies: "The message said a riot has broken out in the terminal!"

"Are any of our passengers involved?" I ask with concern.

"Nothing was mentioned." Replies the engineer, whose surname - Bóasson - is displayed prominently above a chest pocket of his overalls. "We had several flights divert here when the emergency occurred. There must be many hundreds of people stranded at the terminal by now."