Aboard the USS Alexander Mooney

Behind the pilot and co-pilot seats of the hybrid airship N-798 LM was a flight deck with jump seats for additional crew or VIP passengers. Even though he was physically located at the Skunk Works Plant 42 in Palmdale, California, Ranell’s avatar was virtually projected into one of the jump seats aboard the USS Alexander Mooney, one of the newest of the HORAS class warships.

“Weather report is mostly sunny with seventy percent humidity, Captain.” The navigator called out to Captain Pruitt, the pilot. “Winds northeast at fifteen knots. Ten percent chance of rain. Expected high today of eighty-five.”

It was summertime over Oahu, Hawaii. Those islands are gorgeous. Ranell could see several in the chain. He knew from previous vacations that countless tourists were sipping mai tais down along those golden beaches. He stared regretfully out of the window. I’ll never be able to enjoy that kind of beauty again.

“It’s almost time for your staff meeting, sir.” The avatar of the young man addressing him was in his early twenties. He seemed energetic and professional, dressed in his olive-drab Nomex flight suit. “Did you say you needed some help interfacing with the remote feed?”

“Yes, please,” Ranell replied, his hands moving up to feel the large headset that he wore. It was disorienting. “I’ve used extended reality goggles a few times before, but I’m not familiar with this type.”

“Whoa!” Ranell found himself outside, floating midair above the airship. Instinctively, he flailed his arms, making the situation worse. The terrifying sensation of falling was only relieved when his hands slammed down on the Skunk Works conference room table.

“Just sit still, Dr. Ranell,” the crewman gently chided, chuckling softly. “Don’t touch anything else. I’ll get you to the control cabin.”

Moments later, a somewhat embarrassed Ranell was sitting in what appeared to be a control room. The space was cramped. Two of the seats were occupied by real-world crewmen, and three others besides Ranell participated in the meeting as virtually projected avatars. The walls of the ship were packed with sophisticated-looking electronic equipment.

“Welcome aboard,” Captain Pruitt began the meeting without fanfare. “Let me begin by apologizing for your limited access to the ship’s systems. You’ll notice that most of the control panels have been blocked from your view.”

Ranell looked around again and realized he couldn’t see any screens or read-outs. They’d been grayed out, edited from sight. However, the sophisticated surveillance software installed on the cell phone in Rannell’s breast pocket could access all of the top-secret information, and he knew that it was quietly downloading all that information now.

 “Nice to see you again, Josef.” In the real world, Cora Vaughn was already sitting with Ranell in the Skunk Works boardroom. Impeccably dressed as always and with a beaming smile, her greeting to him now was a mild joke acknowledging his successful entry into the virtual world meeting.

“Forgive me if I don’t stand and shake your hand,” Ranell grinned wryly. “They told me not to move around.”

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Vern Foster seemed distracted, perhaps even upset. It was a big change for a man who was usually enthusiastic about the airship project. “Captain, can you give us a SITREP?”

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