Artemis- Modified Cessna

The Fowl family currently had three aircrafts. A Lear jet and Sikorsky helicopter, which were hangared at the nearby airport, and a small Cessna that lived in a small garage workshop beside the high meadow on the northern border of the estate. The Cessna was several years old and would have been recycled some time ago, had Artemis not taken it on as a project. His aim was to make it carbon neutral and cost effective, a goal that his father heartily approved of.

“I have forty scientists working on the same problem, but my money is on you,” he had confided to his son.

And so Artemis coated the entire body of the craft with lightweight superefficient solar panels, like NASA’s prototype flying wing—the
Helios. Unlike the Helios, Artemis’s Cessna could still fly at its normal speeds and take passengers. This was because Artemis had removed the single engine and installed smaller ones to turn the main propeller, the four extra props on the wings, and the landing gear. Most of the metal in the skeleton had been stripped out and replaced with a lightweight polymer. Where the fuel tank had been now sat a small battery.

There were still a few adjustments to make, but Artemis believed his ship was skyworthy.
...

The garage doors were sturdier than they looked, and were protected with a keypad entry system. Artemis tapped in the code and threw open the doors wide, flooding the interior with the deep orange rays of the early evening sun. Inside, nestled in a horseshoe of benches and tool trolleys, was the modified Cessna, hooked up to a supplementary power cable.

Artemis snapped the cable from its socket on the fuselage and clambered into the cockpit. He strapped himself into the pilot’s seat, remembering briefly when he had first flown this plane solo.

Nine years old. I needed a booster seat.

The engines started immediately and virtually silently. The only noise came from the whirring of the propellers and the clicks of switches as Artemis ran through his preflight check.

The news was generally good. Eighty percent power. That gave the small plane a range of several hundred miles. Easy enough to lead Opal on a merry dance along the Irish coast. But the flaps were sticky and the seals were old.

Don’t take her over seven thousand feet.
...

Artemis peeled away from the estate, heading for the deep purple sea, opening the throttle wide, satisfied by the plane’s smooth acceleration. The batteries were channeling a steady supply of power to the engines without releasing one gram of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

-The Time Paradox, Chapter 15