“We are ‘go’ for terminal countdown.” Inside his dark helmet, forty-five-year-old Kendall Parker saw his own eyes reflecting in the heads-up-display (HUD). “Flight computer, confirm ‘go’ for flight.”
The long shadows over Yosemite promised perfect conditions for a jet-wing flight.
“Checklist complete,” the female computer voice confirmed. “All subsystems ready.”
With characteristic theatrical confidence Kendall called out to his flight partner, “Our altitude is ninety-five hundred feet. When we reach ten-thousand, and on my mark, pull your docking release lever, back-dive straight down for five seconds, ignite engines, roll one-eighty, then pitch up towards the horizon.” Kendall nodded. “Then… have fun.” As if an afterthought he added. “And… If there’s serious trouble, eject your wings and activate parachute.”
Kendall Parker and his young-adult daughter, Becca, rose higher and higher, facing each other, standing on the foot rails of a heavy-lift drone.
“And what about the Rangers?” Becca said. “They almost tracked you last time.” Becca had flown many times and knew the drill, but put up with her father’s pride and prerogative to show off and instruct his students.
“What are they gonna do, give me a fine?” Kendall replied.
Below, the sparse granite domes, scenic view parking lots, and ranger stations slowly retreated.
“Dad,” Becca exclaimed over the helmet radio, “can you believe that moonrise?”
Kendall rotated his helmet right. “Stunning.” Then he refocused on his HUD.
“Ninety-six hundred feet.” He looked back at the nearly full moon for more than a moment as though fighting an emotion. Finally, he turned back, lowered his visor and looked west, “Awe! Can you believe that sunset?”
Head-to-toe flight suits enshrouded each aviator, his red, hers yellow. Crowned by white helmets with embedded cameras they would rule the skies and record the flight. Each white-knuckled hand was gloved, right hands gripping there respective motorcycle-style throttle. Each left thumb, pressing lightly on the release lever. Like winged serifs departing heaven, each pilot was bound by harness to light-blue, three-meter V-wings.
“Ninety-eight hundred,” Kendall called out.
Each chest raised in deep breath, the smell of cedar, pine and campfire now diminished. Each pilot flexed their fingers out and in on the grips, slowly rotating heals left and right, pressing against the foot platform. The loud vibration of the quad-copter propellers drowned out each accelerating heart beat. The lower drone structure resembled the basket of a hot air-balloon with equipped with a fully gimbaled camera on the bottom. Software ready to command the drone to track, choreograph and film their flight until touchdown.
“Ninety-nine hundred.”
Leaning back slightly and looking down over his shoulder, Kendall could see the sharp nearly straight summit ridge of Half Dome. The north-west face was a brilliant golden glow streaked with several whiter bands of granite descending down the mountain. The back side of the dome was gray and shadowed.
“Ready!”
Both pilots again planted the balls of their feet across the lower railing, rolling their shoulders and heads back and forth, leaning away from the drone.
“On my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”
Click. Click.
Simultaneously Kendall and Becca fell away. As their feet left the rails, the drone lunged upward, relieved. Earth pulled them downward like Olympic divers doing coordinated back dives from opposite sides of the platform. Twisting at the waist, V-wings followed their shape and they body-rolled until face to face, upside down about twenty meters apart. The drone relocated rapidly. Each pilot ignited their engines, accelerated, arched their backs, then pitched up in opposite directions toward the horizon. Looking left, Kendall noted the drone in perfect position to video them separating at high speed. Their exposed facial skin fluttered against the pulsating air waves, flying like eagles, diving and soaring to their hearts content. Throttling back, they glided toward Half Dome. Kendall led the way with Becca flanking close behind on his right and the drone on his left like three birds in draft formation. Passing familiar peaks and points, they stealthily leveled off at one-thousand feet above the valley floor and headed straight for Yosemite Falls then a close pass of El Capitan.
Adrenaline overcame restraint.
“Wahoo!” Kendall exclaimed.
“Yahoo!” Becca followed.
The granite cliffs replied.
__________
Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialog, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.
(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)
Concept art for Polaris Station
The Commander stopped, tilted his helmet slightly and nodded slowly, eyes closed. The music volume oscillated, unhurried. Crackling static engulfed his crew’s upbeat playlist. One astronaut turned toward another and tapped the side of his helmet. Gloved hands slowly lifted toward the horizon as a flicker of light drew attention. A cylindrical object slowly tumbling end over end drifted across the black sky. Everyone froze. Minutes passed.
The radio static dimmed to a whisper, then silent as the object seemed to run for cover in the brilliant glow of the sun. Momentarily blinded, helmets turned a few degrees to the right, where reflected moon light revealed the home planet, faintly glowing in its own shadow. The lights in and around Rio de Janeiro, and New York speckled the dark blue and white disk. The crew’s playlist resumed. The astronauts one by one turned back to their work.
“Uh… can anyone explain that?” a newer crew member asked across the open crew frequency.“ What was… Where did it come from?”
“Second one since we got here,” Another replied. “We reported it, but the answer was…”
“Site Ops?” A strong voice interrupted the conversation.
Several crew members turned toward their commander perched on a platform near the lava tube. He was looking some distance at a cylindrical elevated module with small rounded window ports, antennas on top.
“Roger, this is Site Ops. Yes commander?”
“Log and report…” The commander ordered with a flat tone.
“Already done sir.”
The crew resumed surveying the cavern for habitat suitability. The commander remained in place, hand on the safety railing, face shield towards Earth. Seemingly distracted by its thin sun-lit crescent, he raised his left arm in front of his visor and checked his watch. He reflected audibly, “California. Friday evening. Yosemite.”
“Say again,” Site Ops inquired. “Can you repeat that?”
The commander quickly reached for his belt audio control unit (ACU) and flipped a switch. He turned back toward Site Ops, crossed both arms above his head with palms facing forward. He turned again back toward Earth and thought to himself, “Amazing. From here, Earth never rises. Never sets. It just turns every twenty-four hours like a rotisserie roasting over a fire.” He gazed upward, then back to the crescent. “She said they would be flying tonight? I wonder if he’ll get caught this time? I wish I could watch, the sun setting to the west, the nearly full moon rising here in the East, their ascent, their descent…”
After a minute or two he nodded, and as if he was on Earth for just a moment said, “Son! You’re so passionate…like your father, I suppose. We both wanted the same thing… We both wanted to be space architects. If only you were more rigorous in academics, you could have followed me into space.”
__________
Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialog, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.
(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)
Concept art for Polaris Station
In 2055, a mysterious object drifts across the lunar sky—untracked, unexplained—and disappears into the sun. Soon after, the world begins to fail. Satellites malfunction. Radiation storms ripple across Earth and space. Humanity dependent systems start to unravel, and no one can explain why.
When Kendall Parker (aerospace engineer) and his wife Katya (astronomer) witness other anomalies, they are pulled into a covert effort to confront a growing, invisible threat. As governments scramble and factions clash, a daring solution emerges: Polaris Station—an orbital system designed to detect and deflect catastrophic space events before they strike.
But building it will test more than technology. Embittered by past betrayals and strained relationships, Kendall must learn to rely on a team of engineers, astronauts, and family members to solve problems no one person can fix alone.
As the system comes online, something goes wrong. A rogue satellite. A rising solar crisis. And evidence that the danger may not be entirely natural.
With time running out, Polaris Station must do what it was designed to do—before everything humanity has built is lost.
__________
Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialog, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.
Not all leadership is by designated leaders. Learn to demonstrate grassroots leadership throughout your career using good character, integrity, effective communication, and collaborative problem solving.
Author’s Note: Technologies explored in this near future science fiction prototyping (SFP) emergency rescue story include Heavy-lift drones, autonomous control, biomedical engineering, materials science, robotics, smartphone technology, tactile sensing, anatomical recognition, noise suppression, emergency 3D printing, inflight drone refueling, drone weather sensing, power regeneration, and animal voice recognition.
February 10, 2032
Cody Ballard was on duty at the Grotto Ranger Station in Zion National Park, Utah. He was savoring the Kolaches pastry sent from home in Texas, a congratulations for his promotion to Deputy Ranger. The station door suddenly squeaked open.
“Hey. Get your boots off the computer console.” His supervisor entered the station. “The sand compromises the calibration.”
Cody spun around in his chair, licked his lips one last time, stood, and saluted. “Right you are, JTR.” Then he sat back down, crossed his arms, and examined his teammate head to toe. Every piece of clothing is perfectly pressed and in place, he thought. With a slow nod, he enunciated the full name of his superior, “Johnny Techno-Ranger.”
JTR looked at Cody’s boots which were now on the floor. “How can you afford $600 GTX boots on a ranger salary?”
Cody felt a little buyer’s remorse and changed the subject. “So, is everyone off the upper trails?”
JTR walked to the window. “Everyone that I know of,” he said.
“Even the couples?” Cody asked, “By the way, did you see that full moon tonight? Monstrous shadow cast by the Great White Throne mountain. Winter is gorgeous here. Nothing like back home in Texas.”
“Indeed, it is.” JTR replied. “But, it’s nights like this that concern me—like ambitious midnight hikers headed to the overlooks for the sunrise.” He pointed through the glass. “See that car in the parking lot?”
Cody stood, pinched his dark goatee, and looked over JTR’s shoulder. “Hm… Yep! I checked it earlier. Utah plates. Engineering bumper sticker. I bet it’s a local couple. Have you ever strolled the Grotto Trail?” Cody elbowed JTR. “With someone special? Under a full moon?”
JTR raised his eyes but didn’t answer. He buttoned the collar on his olive-green ranger jacket and stepped outside. Still near the window Cody watched as JTR slowly raised his head, apparently scanning the shadowed high canyon walls upward to where the stars appeared. With his flashlight, JTR checked on Angel-One and Angel-Two, the hybrid semi-autonomous octo-copters, man-rated rescue drones. Like a dutiful pilot inspecting his airplane before flight, JTR slid his fingers along the blue Boeing logo and gave one of the six-foot diameter counter-rotating propellers a slow spin in its carbon-fiber cowling. He checked the generator and fuel tank along with the batteries, lights, sensors, and medical kit hung on the carbon-fiber body.
Cody was impressed with the professionalism displayed by JTR, even on a chilly starry night. He exited the station and helped check the two small communication drones, Comm-One and Comm-Two, and the fleet of miniature SADS, the Situational Awareness Drone Swarm.
Together they pulled out binoculars and looked across the river for lights along the West Rim Trail, from Spearhead over to Refrigerator Canyon. The wind blew in random bursts, whispering stories through the bare cottonwoods. As Cody re-entered the station, a black-chinned hummingbird passed under the porch light and Cody heard a message from the computer console.
“JTR, you’d better get in here,” Cody called out. “There’s a garbled message on the Hiker’s App scanner.”
JTR returned to the station and they listened to the puzzling message.
“Confirmed,” JTR said. “It’s coming from a standard smartphone.
“Hut, need hut. Hut, need hut.”
“Need hut?” Cody’s eyebrow raised.
“No, it’s help,” JTR said. “Need help. Can you isolate the coordinates?”
Cody tapped on the touchpad. “Yeah, here it is. Elevation: 5,790 feet. Coordinates: north 37 degrees, 16 minutes, 10 seconds, and west 112 degrees.”
“Someone is still up on Angels Landing.” JTR verified the coordinates. “If hikers would only read the warning signs. It’s just February, and there’s already been one death this year.”
Cody turned to JTR and asked, “Angel-One?”
“Affirmative. Initiate launch sequence.” JTR looked at his weather monitor. “The wind is strong. Deploy the SADS first for wind assessment around the summit. Then use infrared search mode for human detection.”
At their respective tele-supervisory monitor stations, JTR commanded release of tie-downs while Cody initiated high-level instructions to Angel-One and the SADS drones.
The surveillance swarm quickly ascended from the Grotto. The four sets of blades on Angel-One spun up stirring the red sand while lifting the drone gracefully from the pad. JTR passed the hiker’s coordinates to the vehicle and she departed like a large hummingbird. She used onboard topographical data and sensors to clear the trees, cross the canyon, and approach the near side of Angels Landing. Using proximity sensors, the vehicle kept constant distance from the rock face as it ascended. The drone spotlight illuminated a few dogged trees growing in cracks high on the iron oxide cliff.
Cody and JTR monitored SADS data.
“Bring the F.O.I algorithm online,” JTR instructed Cody.
The F.O.I? Cody thought quickly. Oh, yeah. The ‘features-of-interest’ software.
JTR continued. “Begin searching for human form, motion and body temperature. SADS is now moving to an optimal search pattern around the summit. Also, get the ‘medical and physiology’ routines ready to assess respiration, heart beat and body forms.”
“All systems ready.” Cody looked out the northwest window. “I can see the spotlight. Angel-One is two-thirds to the top.”
Although in autonomous mode, they gripped their respective joysticks and could feel the wind fighting the controls.
“We’ve got sixty minutes of battery power,” JTR said.
Angel-One maneuvered one-hundred feet above the summit, scanning. Talking to the display, Cody said, “Where is he, or she? Wait. Is that a… It’s a dog! How in the world did…?”
The black, white, and brown-haired beagle barked at the drone. Its floppy ears fluttered like flags in the wind.
Just then, SADS reported, “Small male animal.”
“And how does a dog send a distress call?” Cody asked.
Just then, the dog backed away from the craft down the trail. The drone automatically locked on and tracked the animal with lights flooding the jagged terrain. An upward thermal lift raised the drone suddenly, but the control system dampened it out. From Angel-One’s camera, JTR could see down both sides of Angels Landing—a sheer drop from a narrow summit. The full moon reflected upward into the camera from the Virgin River far below.
“I hope that dog doesn’t get too anxious,” JTR said, “or he’ll…”
“Yeah,” Cody chuckled, his form of stress relief, and said. “From his perspective, it’s a full moon, it’s dark and windy, and a World War I Flying Ace is overhead.”
JTR’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a reason pets aren’t allowed on these trails.” He paused. “Where’d he go? We lost our lock on the dog.”
The SADS alarm sounded and red crosshairs flashed on the screen.
“There!” Cody pointed at the monitor. “Just below that juniper, on the east side of the rim. See? It looks like the hiker.”
Angel-One’s camera automatically zoomed in.
“Yep.” Cody leaned forward. “She’s caught in that crevice. Her leg… It looks like…” Cody nearly slid off his chair. “Oh, my… she’s half over the edge.”
“Okay,” JTR said. “Let’s maneuver in slowly and talk to her from Angel-One.”
The automated F.O.I. assessed the human and audibly reported, “Female, five-foot-six, long brown hair, blue eyes, navy leggings, brown boots, and gray long-sleeve hoodie.”
In the image, Cody could see a grayish-white backpack on the rock just behind her head. He made a few taps on his pad. “Enabling propeller noise suppression and microphone. Medical program is online and ready.”
“Patch all our data through to the regional Emergency Response Center,” JTR said. “And watch those wind readings.”
“This is the park ranger.” JTR’s voice penetrated the wind from the drone. We are here to help you. If you can hear me, say ‘yes’ toward the spotlight and nod your head.”
She pulled her blowing hair from her eyes, squinted into the light, yelled, and nodded.
“We can hear you as well. You don’t need to yell. This is a remote-controlled drone. We are at the Grotto ranger station. What is your condition?”
“I… can’t get my leg out of this crack. I… I think it’s broken and… now it’s swollen. It really hurts, and I’m…”
“Is there anyone else with you besides your dog?”
“No. I’m sorry, I sh-shouldn’t have come alone. I just needed to finish…”
JTR’s eyes narrowed again. “It’s okay, we’re going to get you down.”
Another gust pushed the drone upward. The autonomous gyroscopic stability of the eight rotors minimized rolling and pitching.
“Cody?” JTR said. “The navigation dampening was a little slow during that gust. It’s probably because Angel-One is over the ridge, out of sight. Launch Comm-One drone, and set up a line-of-sight relay.”
“On it,” Cody responded.
The F.O.I. reported the victim’s body temperature to be a little low, and commanded the camera to zoom in on her face.
“She’s shivering badly,” Cody said.
With a gentle swipe, JTR maneuvered the drone to get a clear view of her leg. Live data flowed to and from the emergency center. “Her body temperature is down, and her heart rate is up. What is the…”
Anticipating the question, Cody looked at an indication on the monitor. “It’s forty-three degrees up there. With the wind chill it’s… We’ve got to get her off that mountain. Especially with a broken leg, she’s going to be experiencing hypothermia and her mind will begin to…”
Another wind gust bounced the drone upward. Sensor data flickered.
“Comm-One is almost in position,” Cody reported. “Stand by.”
“What is your name?” JTR asked the girl through the drone.
“Sh-Shelly. Shelly Patterson.”
“Okay, Shelly, we have a medical team helping us. They need to know your age and weight.”
JTR paused for a millisecond. “Happy birthday, Shelly. Now…we’ve got to get the swelling down.”
“My leg… the rock is so cold. I c-can’t get to my meds. It hurts.”
With Shelly’s name, age, and F.O.I., the system accessed her online accounts and medical files. The special cameras on Angel-One took a 3D scan of Shelly’s leg. With tailoring from the emergency center, the Grotto Station 3D printer kicked into action printing a custom brace.
JTR carefully examined the video image of Shelly. Thanking out loud he said, “She can’t put the brace on while her leg is stuck in the…”
“JTR, send me!” Cody said. “Put me in the drone and take me up.”
“Uh,” JTR said, “The drone will theoretically handle the weight of both you and Shelly, but it’s risky.”
“No. Send me up on Angel-Two. I’ll off-load onto the summit, walk down, and help her out of the crevice and secure her on Angel-One.”
“I understand. We’ll need base command approval for this.”
“We don’t have time for that.”
JTR grimaced. “All right, then. Wait, how will I monitor high-level functions of both drones at the same time?”
“Are you kidding?” Cody got up and buttoned his jacket. “From your reputation, you are more than capable. Just in case, I’ll take the portable controller for Angel-Two.”
“Self-drive the drone?” JTR said. “That’s for highly unusual cases.“
Cody raised both hands, palms up. “And what would you call this?”
“Okay. Take the climbing kit and 3D brace from the printer, and a pry-bar.”
Cody ran to the drone, trembling to load the equipment. While tying down the 3D brace he noticed the inscription, ‘Shelly Patterson, Biomedical Engineer, University of Utah.’ Riding Angel-Two, Cody held tightly to its side rails, navigated Big Bend and ascended the east face. He worried continuously about Shelly’s hypothermia and possible shock. After a few minutes he landed on top.
“The ascent was too fast,” Cody reported. “My ears are still trying to pop, and… I’m dizzy.”
“Sit down for two minutes.” Cody heard JTR in his radio earbud.
Cody instructed Angel-Two to standby on autopilot a hundred feet off to the side of the summit. After a minute’s rest, he latched the 3D-printed brace and the drone controller on his belt and then moved carefully down the trail, letting the chain hand-rail slide through his fingers. The dog met him fifty feet down the trail and led him to Shelly.
“Hi Shelly, I’m Ranger Cody. I’m going to try to separate the rock but I need to make sure you’re secure first.”
Cody wrapped a harness around Shelly and attached it to the pole. He then gave her a dose of muscle relaxant.
“I need you to use your hands to pull your body up from the crevice.”
Cody reached around Shelly, found a place for the pry-bar and positioned himself near the edge. Then he pulled back. A piece of rock broke from the sandstone and fell into the darkness. He tried again and separated the rocks just enough to release her leg.
Shelly screamed.
“Okay, she’s free, but shaking violently. I’m now attaching the brace. Move in slowly with the stretcher on Angel-One.”
Shelly’s eyes widened. “I c-can’t hold on. My fingers are frozen and I’m slipping.”
Cody felt her hands, then pulled chemical heating gloves from his med-kit and put them over her trembling fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you into the stretcher and strap you in safely.”
“Cody, we have a problem.” JTR said. “We have a low-power indication on Angel-One.”
Cody looked out at the drone. “How much time?”
“Five minutes,” JTR replied. “All this wind shear has consumed the power and fuel. I’ll have to bring her down, do a fast recharge, and—”
“No, Shelly can’t wait.”
A moment passed.
“Then…” Cody said. “Let’s use Angel-Two!”
“What?” JTR said. “Angel-Two doesn’t have a stretcher. We’d have to—”
“No,” Cody said, “Angel-Two has fuel.”
“Of course,” JTR said. “We can load Shelly into Angel-One while refueling from Angel-Two’s generator tank. Cody, remind me to buy you a Twinkie.”
Shelly gave Cody a puzzled look.
“Okay,” JTR reported. “Executing autonomous victim approach routine on Angel-One.”
Cody positioned Shelly horizontally on the ledge, careful not to touch her blackening leg.
“I’m now taking control of Angel-Two,” JTR said. “Executing autonomous in-flight refueling routine now.”
Cody checked his and Shelly’s restraints on the chain pole. Angel-One approached them on the ridge while Angel-Two approached Angel-One from above. Angel-Two extended its refueling boom down into a receptacle on the top of Angel-One. The wind rushed around Cody and Shelly in every direction.
Shelly violently shook and slid toward the edge, but Cody caught her. He released his safety chain so he could get her closer to the stretcher. With great effort, he lifted her in, releasing her weight slowly.
Cody saw terror in her eyes. She clamped onto his upper arm tighter than a blood pressure cuff. “You can let go now.” He fastened the three buckles and tightened the straps.
“Cody, I’m getting intermittent data dropouts and a low fuel warning from Comm-One. If we lose Comm-One and these winds continue to build, we’ll lose stability.”
“Dang.” Cody looked out in the direction of Comm-One, then downward into the darkness. He then looked into Shelly’s eyes again. “JTR, what other choice do we have? Shelly is loaded and secure. Ready for transport.”
“Copy that,” JTR responded then paused for a moment. “Refueling is complete. Angel-Two is rising and backing away. Okay, I’ll boost the amplifiers on Comm-One. We have no choice but to proceed.”
Just then, the SADS alarm sounded. The strongest gust yet ascended the face of Angels Landing and pushed both drones upward with shuttering roll, pitch, and yaw. Angel-One with Shelly screaming nearly collided with Angel-Two. Cody lost his footing and fell over the brink. The pry-bar tore a hole in his jacket, which stopped him a few feet below the cliff edge.
Shelly screamed again as she saw her rescuer fall out of the light and as her flying ambulance seemed to toss out of control. Using autonomous collision control routines, both vehicles struggled but quickly recovered.
Cody grasped for something to hold on to and wedged one of his boots into a crevice.
JTR put Angel-One and Shelly into autopilot to Grotto Station. Then he maneuvered Angel-Two near Cody’s position. “I can’t bring her any closer,” JTR said. “The winds are too strong; the drone might hit the wall.”
“And me!” Cody added. “Just get close enough.”
“Close enough for what?” JTR said.
“I can’t climb back up, and I can’t hang on much longer. Just get as close as you can.”
JTR set the control system to optimal, then remotely moved the drone toward his deputy. The drone swayed in and out from the wall as the gusts varied.
Cody scrambled for a good hand grip only to find that his boot was stuck in the crevice. Rock chips disappeared in the abyss below as he pulled at his foot. His heart beat rapidly as his foot came out of the boot. He lifted himself enough to remove the pry-bar from the hole in his jacket. Facing the wall, he tested his footing, his grip slipping. He listened intently to the hum of Angel-Two behind him. When he estimated the drone was just five feet from the cliff, and with cold sweat on his forehead, he jumped out from the wall and grasped for the drone handrails.
“I’ve got it,” Cody called out.
JTR rotated Angel-Two’s camera downward and saw his deputy, one boot missing, hanging by both hands. “Can you climb up?”
“Yeah, I can.”
“Wait!” Shelly yelled from Angel-One.
“Shelly?” Cody called out. “Is that you?”
“Yes, it…it’s me. What ab-about my dog?”
“Shelly,” JTR said. “I don’t think we can risk another approach.”
“JTR,” Cody said. “I’m okay now, and I still have the remote, miraculously. I’ll land on the summit again and get the dog. Just transfer Snoopy’s GPS to my remote.”
“But Angel-Two’s fuel levels,” JTR protested. “I’m showing six minutes of power, seven max.”
Cody retrieved the remote from his pocket, piloted Angel-Two on to the summit, put her in standby, and limped to find the dog. Snoopy was hiding in the backpack. Holding him, he limped to the drone. With some resistance, the dog allowed Cody to secure him on the machine. They ascended, cleared the summit, and began the descent down the west side.
“Cody,” JTR said. “I’m showing thirty seconds on your power.”
“Yes, I can feel the DC motors are slowing. Did Shelly make it down?” Cody asked.
“Almost,” JTR replied. “You need full descent speed, or you’ll run out at about five-hundred feet. Don’t bother trying to get to the pads. Put her down quickly on the Virgin River sand.”
Cody descended at a dangerous rate. The generator tank was empty and the batteries were depleted. Angel-Two accelerated down into the moonlit shadow of Angels Landing.
Shelly safely landed and called out. “Is he g-going to die? Are they going to…crash?”
“Well,” JTR said, “they can hear you. And yes, they are falling fast. But no, they are not going to die.”
“What do you mean? If they’re out of power…won’t they…”
“No, it’s called autorotation.”
“Wahoo!” Cody called out over the radio. “This thing auto-rotates like a beauty. The blades spun up with the updraft and gave a slight charge to the batteries.” At almost one-hundred feet above the canyon floor he reversed the current and the blades spun up enough to slow the descent.
A few seconds passed.
“Did they land?” Shelly asked.
“No, not yet.”JTR explained. “They’re just over the Cottonwoods.”
The red dust around the station stirred like a pair of dust devils as Angel-Two slowly lowered onto the pad next to Angel-One with Shelly still on board.
As Cody assisted the paramedics, he gave Shelly’s hands a gentle squeeze and offered to care for Snoopy until she recovered.
JTR asked Shelly about the transmitted message: “Hut. Need hut.”
She sat up a little, held her dog and pointed to his collar. “See here. The collar has an embedded microchip including microphone, neural sensor, GPS tracker, artificial intelligence algorithms, and radio transmitter.”
JTR nodded continuously as Shelly spoke.
Cody’s jaw dropped as he glanced over at the car in the parking lot.
Shelly seemed to forget her pain as she continued with unexpected zeal. “The app translates barking sounds and neural emissions into specific words. It still needs work.”
JTR then asked, “What did you mean up there when you said you needed to finish something?”
“Oh, my research. I set a goal to have the collar working by my birthday. I was running behind. I thought hiking with Snoopy would demonstrate how a dog could discern and communicate their surroundings to help hikers navigate and avoid dangers. I didn’t anticipate being the one rescued today.”
“You are amazing,” Cody said warmly.
The medics finished prepping and loading Shelly, then pulled away.
Cody held Snoopy in his hands as he limped a short distance along the cold Grotto Trail in the moonlight. The winds seemed to be calming a bit. He glanced down at his bare foot, then up at Angels Landing. “I hope I can find it,” he thought out loud. Then he looked down the canyon and thought about Shelly.
JTR returned to the ranger station, put the tele-supervisory system into stand-by, and made a log entry. He then sat down, leaned back, attached a wiring harness to his personal auxiliary port on his waist, and went into his robotic regenerative mode.
Dear Engineering Stories followers, It has been a great #engineering#career so far including my #coaching of about 20 teams in 20 years at the local university. I’ve noticed a few things over the years that could help newer engineers be more successful, and I offer ‘Pocket #Prototyping‘ pointers in this article in the BYU Design Review. Please read it and then share it with your colleagues (and ask them to share it), especially with those just getting started in engineering and #design who need #mentoring. Thanks, Ken
Concept art for Polaris Station
Concept art for Polaris Station
Concept art for Polaris Station
