HEDY LAMAAR<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Ma'am, I've shot down so many army and pirate planes I lost count seven months ago. I don't know if I killed them but I sure as hell shot their planes to Uncle Sam's uncle. Plus, I own a Bloodhawk. Mighty fast and agile. So unless you are going to war with Hollywood you will always have the speed advantage with me around. I don't need much pay, just the basic needs and I'm a happy woman. What say you? Do I get a chance?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>I smiled at the eager blonde. She was too eager and clearly still wet behind the ears. It would be easy to shoot her down now with a snarky comment and leave her in the dust but underneath her bald-faced lies I could detect a genuine enthusiasm. The fact she was a rookie meant she'd be cheap so if she died in our first combat I wouldn't lose much. The only issue was if she was a total cherry then I'd be wasting a hook on my launcher that could be better filled by a more experienced pilot.<br/><br/>I smiled at her,<strong>"I have to say Dixie Mae that you must be very secretive as well as good since none of your exploits have reached my ears and I've been trading the sky ways for the best part of three years. But anyhow…"</strong>I patted her arm above the elbow,<strong>"You're hired. I don't buy a word of that 'best pilot' baloney but you're keen and that I do like. Just a word of advice my dear. Don't go blowing your horn off round here about what you've done, or claim to have done. A good pilot becomes known through their actions, not their words. I've known several 'great pilots' such as you who went into bars and spouted off about how talented they were. Some old school flyer comes up to them so everyone can hear and challenges 'em to a race or a test or worse – a duel – and that's the last you see of them. They either break their plane or their neck and it’s a damn waste. Especially if they're pretty."</strong>I paused and gave her a slow wink.<br/><br/><strong>"So if you fly in my ship, you don't ever lie to me or anyone else on board about how good you are. I only deal with honest folks. That might sound odd coming from a trader who flies some of the less salubrious routes and does deals with the less sociable characters but it's true. My ship and everyone on her depends on your ability to shoot down a pirate or a militia plane before it shoots us, so if you're not good you better get good fast. Or get out. Do we have an understanding?"</strong><br/><br/>She nodded with that same infectious enthusiasm.<br/><br/><strong>"Good. Tower 17 east, 2:00pm, don't be late."</strong>I turned away, then turned back,<strong>"Oh… and my name is Lamaar. Hedy Lamaar. It was… fun meeting you Dixie Mae."</strong><br/><br/>I made my exit, going into the telegraph office.<br/><br/><div align="center">~ * * * 0 0 0 * * * ~</div><br/>It was a little before two the next day. Overnight Joe and the boys, assisted by some ground engineers from Haven's hangers had done a swell job. The<em>Blue Ridge</em>had been lowered from the docking tower down to the ground and towed by tractor into a hanger. Here her skin had been peeled back, and she'd had bay twelve's ripped up gasbag removed and a new one installed. The remains of bag twelve went into patching up the bullet holes in the other bags and left us a good stock of silk for spares.<br/><br/>The under-belly pair of cargo bays had been removed though the ventral internal bay still remained giving us a reduced cargo capacity of only 100 tons. There was some good duralinium in those, plus their loading cranes, so disposing of them had netted me a good sum on a cash back deal.<br/><br/>The ruined number seven motor was dismounted and stripped for spares. Motors four, five and six were stripped too and rebuilt with a whole new pod replacing the hole where seven had been.<br/><br/>The ten engine pods each had a new pair of .50 cal barrels and Joe took into stores another twenty spares. At dawn she was tractored out of the hanger, gassed and fuelled up to be towed to the tower by breakfast. I had cat-napped the night away on a couch in the hanger foreman's office, waking up every now and then to give guidance when someone needed it though I suspect Joe made sure I wasn't disturbed much and he took most of the decisions.<br/><br/>One hiccup came after breakfast when my navigator, Karl Linzberger, quit. He came to me in my office having first made sure to fill his belly with my fried food and corn bread and my strong imported Italian coffee. He turned in his card.<br/><br/><strong><em>"Cargo carrying is my game, Ma'am. I'm not for all this shooting and killing business. I'm going to find myself a quieter berth. Good luck with your future… war."</em></strong><br/><br/><strong>"Thank you Karl. It was a pleasure working with you. Good luck with your future… peace though I doubt you'll find much. And I hope all those over easy eggs of mine don't give you indigestion!"</strong>I called after him as he walked away.<br/><br/><em>Drat. Now I need a navigator too.</em>I picked up the office telephone, wound the handle to power it up and called Benson who's small cubby-hole bedroom was outside my doorway.<br/><br/><strong>"Benson. Small job for you. Please go back to Tiny's bar and tell him that the <em>Blue Ridge</em> is hiring a navigator. There was a gent there last night who I turned away. If he still needs a berth and a job, get Tiny to send him over to us here by two this afternoon. For now until I can measure him up, standard rookie rates apply, with pay in arrears every two weeks, berth and board deductible. Oh, and that man we met when we came out of the telegraph office – please send my reply back to him. It's a 'yes' as long as we drop his 'package' this side of Navajo Territory and not over the border. My fee is four thousand, up front. It's a high price but no questions will be asked and no-one outside my crew will know the Big Blue ever went there. You're a darling. Thank you."</strong><br/><br/>I put the phone down. I was shattered, me and couches in engineers offices do not mix.<br/><br/>With the power back on by nine, the<em>Blue Ridge</em>was hauled back up to the tower, her nose connecting with the boarding gangway in that male-female way that I always snicker at. A coupling, it's called. Very apt... the big pointed nose of the ship pushing into the open receiving connector of the tower. A girl my age shouldn't giggle but it gets me every time. There was just time for me to have a bath and get three hours good sleep before Benson was back. Then he'd give me a nice massage and a light lunch could be served late for the new arrivals.<br/><br/>The<em>Blue Ridge</em>once again hung at her mooring mast and the roar of aero engines grumbled across Haven Field accompanied by the sweet stink of avgas as Joe and his boys ran up motor after motor on a sixty minute half – then a full revs test, closing the throttles down to idle when they were done.<br/><br/>The big fat ship sat downwind of her mooring, rolling gently as the mild valley airs moved past her shining silver bulk. No longer a cargo ship and not yet a warship, she was some kind of hybrid that could do neither job very well. My task was to get her to do both, no mean feat. I had to get her running some deliveries that would net us enough cash to keep us solvent until the damn lawsuits were done and those grasping sharks gave us what was left after they'd finished picking over the bones of Winchester Flight Inc. Then I'd be able to invest in more motors and gun pods and some heavier fore and aft turrets, maybe even a de-luxe rotary launcher and power speed-loader. And some proper pilot barracks. Right now it was mend and make do as the boys and girls would find out when they came on board.<br/><br/>Speaking of which… I turned off the faucet to my private tub, slid the satin robe off my shoulders, unlaced my corset and rolled my stockings down to step into the hot bubble frothed water and relax back with a sigh. There was a crick in my neck from last night's unsatisfactory bed and that massage wouldn't be coming a moment too soon.<br/><br/>I closed my eyes in the deep heat of the bubbles.<em>Let's see what this afternoon brings us…</em>