airbase

As I stepped off the bus, my attention was immediately caught by the spectacle of two aircraft as they prepared to take off. I paid no attention as the bus doors closed behind with a whump, the rumble of the bus engine was likewise lost in the wall of sound as the four jet engines throttled up. Unconsciously, I stepped closer to the chain link fence around the airfield, interlacing my fingers with the cold links as I watched, my bags and orders momentarily forgotten. Despite the fact that the aircraft were different types, from different nations, the two aircraft proceeded down the runway abreast, lifting off at the same time, wheels retracting almost immediately.

“Yo buddy, think fast!”

The words brought me out of my reverie. I turned my attention from the aircraft, just in time to spot a football descending towards me. Caught off guard as it impacted my chest, I bobbled the ball one handed, before it squirmed from my grasp to roll off to the side.

“New guy, huh?” A youngish man jogged up, scooping up the ball. He tossed it easily from hand to hand as he approached, before tucking it under one arm and sticking out his hand.

“Y-yeah.” I managed, returning the enthusiastic handshake.

“Nice, what’s your planefu?” He grabbed my bag without asking, slinging it over his shoulder.

“My what?”

“Planefu, your favorite plane.” He began walking off towards the gated entrance. With no choice but to follow, I trotted after him.

“Oh, uh, I like the F-16 I guess.” I caught up, my other bag in my hand as we were waved through the entrance by a man dressed in full tactical gear, despite the midday heat. He seemed to be wearing twice as many patches as any other guard I had seen before, half of them from different organizations or even nations.

“That’s cool. We can probably get you one pretty soon. I like flankers myself.” My impromptu guide said as we walked towards a set of buildings.

“Uh, aren’t we like assigned planes?” The majority of the base seemed to consist of hangars, far more hangars than the few residential buildings could supply pilots for.

“Nah, you just fly whatever you want.”  I blinked in surprise, but I had been warned that this squadron was anything but typical. “Yo buddy, heads up!” My guide called out, tossing the ball to a man walking towards us, looking down at his phone as he walked.

“Anyways, this is the head office.” He said, pointing to a decrepit building on our left, the windows not broken boarded over. I watched as the ball hit the surprised man in the stomach, doubling him over and sending his phone tumbling from his hands.

“Is he…” The man started to twitch on the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“Probably one of the europeans.” He leaned towards me in a conspiratorial manner. “They don’t know you’re allowed to use your hands.” I stared at him, and he winked.

“Yeeeeah, there was supposed to be a base commander and staff…” He shrugged as if that was an answer to the building’s condemned state. “We mostly just take care of our own stuff.”

“C’mon,” He slapped me on the shoulder with his now free arm. “Let’s find a place to dump your stuff and then I’ll show you the planes. That’s why you’re here, right?” I nodded numbly as we walked towards the barracks, passing by a team of men dumping bags of sand onto a section of grass while others tried to string what looked like a tennis net between two stepladders. I started to question it, but thought better of it.

“You came at a good time.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah, it’s nearly lunchtime.” He nodded over to where an F-14 was being backed up towards a pair of grills. Plastic lawn furniture and picnic tables cobbled together out of scrap wood dotted the cooking area. “You cook?”

“Not really.”

“That’s a shame. Here’s the barracks.” We came to a stop in front of a three story building. “I have to help with the cooking. Just try and find a room that’s not occupied. If you have any questions, just ask anybody.”

“Thanks.” I accepted my other bag from him as he jogged off. I shook my head and maneuvered my way into the building. Immediately I was struck by the cacophony of a dozen different sound systems playing a dozen different songs in a multitude of languages, half the doors on the floor wide open. I did my best to ignore the chaos as I moved down the hall, peering in through the open doors, looking for a room not currently occupied.

Three black cloaked and hooded figures stood in the first room, standing around a pentagram assembled from aircraft parts, dancing and chanting as I watched. Gradually, they became aware of me, turning as one and moving to the threshold of the door, but not beyond it.

“Greetings…” They seemed to speak as one, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods. “Would you like to know the explore the mysteries of the stealthdimensional?”

“The… what?”

“What’s your planefu?”

“I... like the F-16.” The three of them drew back at my reply, shrieking in rage. I stumbled back, wide eyed in shock at their violent reaction. Their gnarled, inhuman hands came up defensively, scratching in my general direction.

“Not stealthy! Doesn’t even have RAM! >External Hardpoints!” Their cries followed me as I made for the stairs at the end of the hall, already having written off the entire first floor. I was beginning to wonder if I had made a mistake in volunteering for this unit.

The noise level was at least lower on the second floor, but all the doors were closed. Resigning myself for an awkward explanation if it was occupied, I tried the first door. Locked. I gave a sigh of relief before turning and trying the door on the other side of the hall. This one turned easily under my hand, swinging open to expose walls absolutely plastered with photos and and life size cutouts of a smiling man and his sports team. Everything in the room, from the walls to the bedsheets, was some combination of of blue, red, and silver. I looked up, only to discover that the entire ceiling had been covered in candid polaroid pictures of the man in the #12 jersey, most of them seemingly taken without the subject being aware. I slowly closed the door, backing away from that room.

The next door I tried was also unlocked, and also unoccupied. As I gazed in, I was beginning to think that this entire airbase was filled with nothing but obsessives. This particular room seemed to exist solely as a shrine to the A-10. Scattered across the ground were a multitude of spend 30mm cases, and the air was tinged with the smell of gunpowder mixed with… pasta? One of the body sized pillows on the bed seemed to be emblazoned with the image of the particular aircraft on its back. I declined to investigate further, closing the door as I backed out.

I found the next room to be occupied as well.

“Sorry, my bad.” I began to close the door.

“I’m a pilot.” I halted, considering the words of the man sitting at the desk as he continued to draw on a tablet. “I just thought you should know that.”

“Aren’t we… Aren’t we all pilots?” He looked up from his tablet and gave me a pointed look. “Right, right. Sorry for barging in. Could you tell me if there’s any empty rooms on this floor?”

“I could draw you a map.” He offered, reaching for a sheaf of scrap paper. “I’ll get to it as soon as I finish with these other requests.”

“I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“Well you can always ask Dorni if you need something drawn.”

“I don’t need something draw, I just want some info.”

“If you want to know something, you should ask Thunder. I’ll draw you a map to his room when I get done with this.” He waved his tablet, showing some sort of red plane on the water.

“I’ll just take my chances.” I muttered, withdrawing.

“Remember to draw for the collage!” He called through the closed door.


Following my pattern thus far, I knocked on the opposite door this time, unwilling to repeat my last encounter. With no response, and with the door unlocked, I pushed it open.

Inside I found another man, furtively hunched over a desk that was nearly overflowing with textbooks. He furiously alternated between reading one of the open books, typing something, and doodling with his other hand. A hastily covered up yellow and red flag was in the corner, next to a bed that looked like it hadn’t been used for anything but more desk area in some time. I quietly closed the door, unwilling to disturb the man as he began to mutter about martians.


With only two doors left on this floor I was beginning to lose hope of finding one unoccupied, but my momma didn’t raise no quitter. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the next door.

“Come in!” I froze, unsure what to do. A few seconds later the door was opened for me by a smiling woman who ushered me in.

“How do you do?” A man in a pilot’s suit and helmet asked as he approached, transferring the coffee cup to his free hand to shake mine. I placed by bag down and took it, momentarily caught up with the pleasantries of the situation. Behind him I saw another person sitting on the floor, playing a plane game.

“You must be new here, come in, come in.” He drew me closer to the TV, “I was just watching him play this for the first time. You ever play this?”

“It’s… kind of the whole reason I’m here, isn’t it?”

“True, true!” He gave a muffled laugh from behind the oxygen mask. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, keeping his hand on my shoulder as we watched the other person play. I glanced at the man, but his expression was unreadable behind the reflective shield. “I like to watch their first time.”

“What was that?” I wasn’t quite sure if he was even talking to me.

“Nothing, nothing. Hey, it’s about lunch time isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, they were getting ready when I came in…” I trailed off, growing more uncomfortable by the second.

“Well I better go help them! Why don’t you stop by tonight for dinner, I’m a great cook. You can ask my wife if you don’t believe me! Or here, take a look at this.” He pulled out a smartphone and began scrolling through pictures of people sitting in front of TVs until he arrived at a plate of food.

“Very nice.” I managed, as he gave my shoulder a final squeeze and headed out the door. I glanced at the other two people in the room, before making my escape back into the corridor.



At the sixth door, I seized the initiative. Giving a quick knock, I opened the door, hoping to catch whatever occupant inside off guard, lest I be drawn into whatever particular brand of crazy this room contained. It turned out this room contained books. Hundreds of them, bookshelves overflowing from floor to ceiling and covering three walls. Diagonally across the room, and with only a few feet of space in the corners to skirt around it, was the forward section of an F-4E Phantom. Hesitantly I approached, leaving my bags in the hallway.

Before I reached even the halfway point, the canopy opened, raising up, revealing the inside to have been converted into a bed, with a computer monitor mounted where the controls would be.

“Actually, it’s an eff four gee, and the pilot and wizzo had their own canopy.” The elderly man corrected me as he struggled to descend without slipping and breaking a hip. With both feet on the ground, he brushed himself off and faced me. “What knowledge do you seek?”

“I’m looking for a room to place my bags.”

“Sorry, I only answer questions about planes. You said your planefu was the F-16?”

“How did you…” The man ignored me as he crossed to one of the walls, pulling down a book.

“Would you like to know the top 10 areas in which the eff four is still better than your planefu?” Without waiting for an answer he began his lecture. As soon as his back was turned, I made for the open door.


With the second floor a total loss, I pushed onwards, fueled by equal amounts of desperation and exasperation. I hurriedly pushed open the heavy door leading to the third floor with my hip. A squawk resonated from the other side as the door made contact with something solid. Peering around, I saw a girl on her hands and knees, a broken laptop on the floor.

“S-sorry, I was really in a rush…” The girl made angry fingers at me as people began to pour out of their rooms to reassure her that she was a good writer and ask when the next fic was due. “I’ll make it up to you later!” I called out, trying to avoid being lynched by the beta orbiter mob.


“Hey! In here.” A small, smartly dressed man waved me over, and I slipped inside the door before it was shut in the face of the growing mob.

“Thanks.” I panted, glad to have finally met someone normal. I accepted a glass of water from him, taking the offered seat on a couch in front of a TV. I took a sip and then placed my glass down next to a stained controller.

“You have to be careful, some of those guys go crazy around breeders.” He explained with a smile, sitting next to me.

“Uh, what?”

“You know I happen to make videos, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in starring in one?”

“I’m not really comfortable with this…” I stood up slowly, grabbing my bags.

“I’m practically a doctor, why don’t you stay here and I’ll give you an examination! Or we can watch my youtube videos.” He offered, pulling a macbook up onto the coffee table. “Do you know how to clean out a keyboard?”

“I think I’m going to go.” I said gently, moving towards the door.

“At least like and subscribe!”

I threw the door open and glanced out into the hall, scurrying across to the opposite side before the crowd caught sight of me. At last, an empty room. I tossed my bags down onto the bed, before flopping into the chair. This was the motley crew that I had signed on with, that I would be spending most of my time with?

I decided to lock my door.