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By Root 721 0

first time, the propeller spun and blurred. Chris eased the throttle forward and taxied the biplane out of the hangar. There was a clear run for take-off and so, checking that the tail was clear of the doors, Chris pushed the throttle to maximum. The biplane hurled itself forward, bumping across the grass, the nose tilting downwards as the wings caught the air.

The transition to flight was so fast that it took Chris by surprise. The biplane bounced twice on the grass and then it was flying. Instinctively he used the rudder to correct a drift to the right.

Watching his speed he eased back on the stick lifting the nose into the fresh blue sky. He felt slight tugs on stick and rudder – it was the wind challenging his control of the biplane. Not much, just a small warning that he was in the domain of aerodynamics now, that the sky was unforgiving, that the price of freedom was always danger.

Chris laughed as the biplane soared into the sky.

'Can you hear me?' asked the Doctor, his voice issuing from the speakers woven into the sides of Chris's flying helmet. An adhesive microphone dangled from the helmet. Chris pressed it to his throat where it stuck.

'Loud and clear,' said Chris. 'Where do you want to go?'

'Head for the coast, I'll direct you from there.'

'Ay ay, skipper.'

'Chris?'

'Yes, Doctor?'

'I believe the correct terminology is "roger wilco".'

'Roger wilco.'

'That's better,' said the Doctor.

'Doctor?'

'Yes.'

'Which way is the coast?'

'Turn ninety degrees to starboard.'

Chris started a gentle bank to starboard.

'Doctor?'

'Yes?'

'What does "roger wilco" mean, exactly?'

'Well, "wilco" is obviously a contraction of "will comply".'

Chris levelled the plane out on its new heading.

'So who was Roger?'

'Give it some throttle, Chris,' said the Doctor. 'I want to get over the murder scene some time before my next regeneration.'

Their course took them over a gigantic waterfall. So vast and extensive was the plume of spray that, from a distance, Chris had first thought it a bank of unusually lowlying cloud. A great river, at least two kilometres broad, snaked across the plateau and hurled itself a kilometre down the sheer side of an escarpment. The noise of the falling water grew steadily as they approached, until it was so loud it had blotted out the sound of the biplane's engine. They flew over the rim of the fall at a height, according to the biplane's altimeter, of 'squiggle' which to Chris's experienced eye looked to be about four hundred metres. The water had carved a semi-circular notch in the softer stone of the escarpment, leaving isolated pillars of harder rock jutting out of the rushing water like primitive statues. Or perhaps the water hadn't carved the rock, perhaps it had been designed like that.

'Now that,' said the Doctor, 'is what I call landscape gardening.'

There was some turbulence over the fall and Chris had to struggle to keep the biplane on an even heading. Nothing too serious, just a little bump and grind, the sky's reminder to the pilot of its prerogatives.

Beyond the falls the ground fell away to a wide swathe of forested hills, greener and more rugged than the plateau behind. The sea was visible, a smudged line of white and blue in the distant haze. Chris put the plane into a shallow dive, levelling off thirty metres above the tree tops and following the contours of the terrain. At that height, Chris could see colonies of bright orange primates roosting in crudely woven huts amongst the upper branches, either lounging in the sun or scampering from limb to limb. As the biplane approached, the monkeys halted their activities and watched, their pale upturned faces like so many small flowers. Chris was sure that a couple of the small animals waved cheerily at him as he flew overhead.

The Doctor pointed out a small cove and asked Chris to perform a quick orbit over it. The Doctor peered down but the short beach was deserted. As Chris pulled the biplane into another turn a small shape shot up from the forest below and drew level, matching course and speed with nonchalant ease. It