Well, that didn’t take long . . .
When it comes to saying, “I’m not gonna work on something and finished it today,” I’m probably lying by butt off. I said I wasn’t going to do the Red Line in full right away, but . . . well, I had time on my hands and a program in front of me, so I figured, what the hell?
I at least have the route laid out in its glory, though there are a few areas I need to smooth out because when you’re working in three dimensions you can do that. That will be this week.
So here it is, from a couple of different views. First, from the south:
And then from the northwest:
And one view from due east that shows the grid and how high some of the turns are.
Each gird box is one hundred meters on each side, or three hundred and twenty-eight feet. So besides K1 (in the middle) going up a thousand meters, you have Plateau, (on the right north of the Observatory) at just over three hundred meters, Corkscrew (the climb and circles half-way between the Pentagram in the center and the far left) at four hundred, and The Point all the way to the left going up five hundred meters before diving towards the ground.
I view my tracks a lot like those used in Formula 1. The Green Line is a lot like Monza in Italy: fast with just enough curves and chicanes to keep you from crashing and burning too hard. The Blue Line is like Spa Francorchamps: big and fast, but a bit more technically challenging. The Red Line is like the Nürburgring Nordschleife, demanding as hell with all the curves, though I’m not sure what this makes Mount Katahdin–though the races do call the later The White Hell . . .
By the way, the top part of Corkscrew is how high Kerry went the first time he checked out on an Espinoza with Vicky. As for the Mile High flight, Annie and Kerry when just over three times higher than K1. They was way up there.
And there was writing! Like right here:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Annie danced past the foot of her bed on the way to her dresser and Little Talks began playing on the music stream she’d selected from her room’s computer terminal. She’d already hung up her uniform; all that remained was to put up her shoes, pull out her blue slippers, close up the dresser, and wait, knowing she wouldn’t need to wait long.
She checked her appearance in the full-length mirror. Makeup off, hair combed right, touch of gloss, and nails a lovely light blue thanks to the time spell she’d practiced over the summer that allowed her to do her feet and hands property in about forty five minutes instead of three hours it would take if she allowed the several layers of coatings and polish to dry naturally. Annie examined her fingertips carefully once last time before skipping over to the computer terminal to check the time.
Twenty-one forty-five. Just as she shut off the music there was a knock on the door. A huge grin appeared as she grabbed her robe off the bed. Punctual as always.
If it’s Friday night, it must be time for the Midnight Madness. And this is the first of the year, so one must look their best, right? Once again we have Dancing Annie, listening to music on the computer terminal set up in her room–and, yes, they were there last year, but we never really discussed them. She doesn’t have a laptop, however: more like a device that lets her get into the school network cloud, so she is connected to messages and the whatnot.
And here she is checking out her nails again. It was established last year she likes doing her nails, so she’s got them ready once more. Probably for someone special . . .
Annie flung open the door: Kerry stood in the corridor, wearing his gray pajamas, black slippers, and dark gray robe. The moment he saw his soul mate on the other side of the door he pretended to adjust a bow tie before cocking his head slight to one side and greeting her using a soft, fake, English accent. “Hello, Sweetie.”
Annie slipped on her robe and commanded her lights off as she stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind her. “Hello, my love.” She slid her arms around Kerry and gave him a tender kiss. “Miss me?”
“Any time I’m away I miss you.” He sidestepped and held out his arm for her to take. “Shall we go?”
“We shall.” She took his arm and walked with him towards the staircase. “I didn’t think this week would feel so long.”
It’s not been mentioned before–well, just a little maybe–but Kerry and Annie pretty much greet each other from time-to-time like The Doctor and River Song, and given that they’re both messing around with time spells . . . Kerry was actually pantomiming the Eleventh Doctor adjusting his bow tie, something he did when he first saw Annie in her flight gear their first day in Beginning Flight.
Speaking of flight–
“I think it was a lot of what we did today.” He held her hand as they took the stairs to the first floor. “Not to mention with all the advanced classes we’ve got longer days than everyone else.” They strolled through the A Levels’ area, nodding at two girls who were just leaving their rooms. “That’s gonna make all the weeks long.”
“And we have class Sunday morning.” She chuckled as they almost bounced down the stairs leading to the main floor commons. “And if you go out for racing—”
Kerry humphed. “If I get accepted, you mean.”
“If you go out, you’ll get accepted.” She guided him around as they reached the ground floor and turned to their left on their way across the commons to the tower exit leading into the Pentagram Gardens. “You need not fear.” She slid her arm around the crook of his elbow once again. “How were the Class 2’s? I know I asked you to wait until later to talk about it—”
“And this is later.” Kerry hadn’t wanted to talk about his time in Advanced Flight during dinner; he’d wanted to get back to shower and change before heading off to the first Midnight Madness of the new school year. He’d also wanted to hear about Annie’s time up at the Witch House, and find out if she’d picked up anything new. “It was nice. Those things are fast and so responsive.” He held the coven tower door open for Annie. “The handlebars take a bit getting used to, though.”
Handlebars? Let’s look:
Annie waved open the wall door leading to the garden beyond. “You need that because of the acceleration and responsiveness.” She’d seen her father on a Class 2, so she knew a bit about them. They had the same main frame as the Class 1s, but the similarities ended there. The saddle had a small back to keep the pilot from slipping backwards and off because, depending on the model, the acceleration was as much as three times greater than the best of the Class 1s. And instead of the pilot maneuvering the PAV by applying pressure directly to the frame, there were a set of handlebars with heavy, padded grips that allowed the pilot more control. “Wait until you fly the Class 3s.”
“Ha.” Kerry slowed to a comfortably stroll under the covered walkway to the Great Hall. “I only get to try those if I make it to the A Team; Class B is as high as the B Team goes.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much—” Annie leaned into his arm. “If you make the B Team, I feel you’ll make the A Team soon after.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Were you hanging with Deanna this afternoon?”
“I’d never tell.” She took a moment to kiss his hand. “Did you speak with Jario or the girls?”
I started thinking I should do some models of the Class 1, 2, and 3 PAVs, because I do know what they look like, and it would probably help to show people what I see in my head. It’s just a matter of doing the modeling, which I do know how to do by now–I think.
There you have it: more building of worlds, and more madness until midnight.
Good times, I’m telling you.