Page 19 of Stalk the Sky

Pip half-listened to the various critiques and suggestions as the flyboys made them. What would be the best way to mount a gun on an aeroplane?

It would need to be a fairly large machine gun, which would be heavy and bulky. Weight and aerodynamics would need to be taken into account, even beyond all the problems with aim and shooting parts of the flyers.

While Pip had a degree in magical engineering, she’d been mostly focused on the mechanical side of things. Not to mention, her experience was mostly with trains. She wasn’t sure she was the most qualified to figure out the complicated engineering that far smarter and experienced engineers in Aldon hadn’t solved yet.

Yet as she’d learned with trains, sometimes it wasn’t always the most elegant or engineered solution that worked. Sometimes it was the ugly-but-functional methods jury-rigged in the field or trainyard that did what no engineer with schematics and theories could do.

“I have heard of other aerodromes mounting machine guns on the upper wing.” Baragh spoke for the first time, though he didn’t move from his position against the wall.

“That would be the place to start. Pip, any thoughts?” Fieran turned to her.

For a moment, she sat there, utterly frozen in his gaze. And in the gazes of everyone in the room swinging toward her, though their weight was different than the warmth in Fieran’s blue eyes.

Pip swallowed and forced out a few squeaky words. “We’ll need to reinforce the upper wing to handle the extra weight and recoil.”

Baragh nodded, as did Fieran. Fieran still held her gaze. “Any other suggestions?”

He wanted her to come up with more? Pip cleared her throat, wracking her brain. A tidbit from some of the various journals, papers, and newspaper articles on the early pioneers of flight rose to her mind. “There was cursory experimentation into mounting a larger gun on a flyer a few months ago. The biggest complaint with mounting on the upper wing was that it was very difficult to clear jams or reload or even reach the trigger, especially for shorter pilots.”

A difficulty that she could sympathize with, which was why that particular article stood out to her.

She swung her legs beneath the chair yet again. “I could possibly rig some kind of track so the gun could swing up and down from firing position to a more reachable position for the pilot.”

A track like that would be best made out of stamped steel to be an interchangeable part, but she should be able to make a workable version with her magic.

Fieran gave a decisive nod. “All right. You and the mechanics can work on that. Use one aeroplane to test a fixed machine gun and the other on a track.”

Pip nodded in return. “We’ll have a workable model for testing shortly.”

“Anyone else have any observations on the fight over Bridgetown?” Fieran’s gaze finally swung away from her to scan the gathered flyboys again.

One of the others pointed toward Tiny. “Tiny’s ice did more damage than anything the rest of us did, except for your magic, Laesornysh.”

Tiny hunched a little lower in his seat, as if embarrassed by being singled out. Pip could sympathize with the feeling.

Fieran nodded. “You nearly had an airship down by yourself, Tiny. But carrying all that water with you was probably a bit unwieldy.”

“It was.” Tiny shrugged, his voice squeaking slightly higher than his normal tenor at being the center of attention. “I could barely move the rudder with so much water stacked around my feet.”

Not a good long-term solution.

“Pip, would it be possible to add a water reservoir to an aeroplane?” Fieran’s gaze was back on her again.

Pip made a note on her paper, sticking to that cool professionalism. “Possibly, but I’d have to run the calculations to see how big of a water tank we could install before the added weight would affect the maneuverability and stability of the aeroplane. The Mongavarians obviously have gasoline tanks in their flyers, so there has to be a way to do it.”

Granted, water weighed more than gasoline, so that would have to be factored in.

“Maybe…maybe I could help?”

Pip swiveled in her seat to see Murray, a stocky man with dark skin and curly black hair, with a hand in the air. She hadn’t interacted with him much back at Fort Linder as he was so quiet, but the entire training squadron had made a fuss over him when he’d returned to training after surviving his crash.

He was, also, the squadron’s one human with magic. Humans with magic were rare, and often their magic wasn’t nearly as strong as that of the elves, trolls, or dwarves.

Murray ducked slightly. “I’m only a 2.2 on the Marion Scale and water magic isn’t a specialty of mine, but I have some training.”

That made sense. Pip had interacted some with the magicians taking various magic-focused classes at Hanford University, and most magicians were required to take a base set of courses. Likely, if Murray had been skilled with water-related magic, he would have been highly encouraged to join the navy, where most magicians who wanted to join the Escarlish military ended up.

“Thanks for the offer, Murray. That would be helpful.” Fieran gestured from Murray to Tiny. “The two of you are exempt from gun testing so that you can work together to figure out the best way to maximize both of your magics.”

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