Hello there, all you lovely listeners! Welcome to the Daily Drag! I'm your host, Calvin, and joining me is Polly Panama, a UINC official and a big fan of the show, if I'm not mistaken. Say hi, Polly.
Just ecstatic to be here, Cal! Thank you for having me on the show. It's a really special day today, isn't it? So much excitement in the air.
Thaaat's right, Polly. Today is the day of another launch! And more exciting still, it's the maiden voyage of the United Isles Naval Coalition's newest ship: The United Isles Ship Garrloch. I'm told this beauty is one of the first in a new line of exploration vessels which are trying to figure out just what's out there past that Ring of Thunder.
Yes, the Garrloch is our brand new flagship. The first of it's class. For those of you who are confused, Rick Garrloch was the main backer for this particular ship, so it seems only right that she be named in his honor.
Good thinking, Polly! Yes, the Garrloch would not be possible without Rick Garrloch's support. For those of you at home, Rick Garrloch is the CEO of New Life Industries, bringing you every possible household item you could ever need. Toothbrushes, pots and pans, even paper towel holders. If your life isn't quite homey enough, try buying a New Life. Now, tell me, Polly, what makes the Garrloch special beyond the rest of the UINC fleet?
Well, Cal, the Garrloch is the first exploration ship we're putting out into the world that can handle a brand new type of aircraft technology we like to call "VTOL".
Wow, that's an acronym if ever I've heard one!
Yes it is, Cal: it stands for Vertical Takeoff and Landing. We're putting a brand new prototype aircraft on the Garrloch which has the ability to take off like a helicopter, and then transform mid-flight into an airplane. It gives the airplane a lot more speed and distance, but still lets it maintain the maneuverability of a copter.
It's all flying a bit over my head, Polly, but it sounds amazing. I'm just tickled that you're here to explain this all to us, but unfortunately my producers over there are giving me some nasty looks. I think that's all the time we have for now.
Oh, no worries, Cal. Thanks again for having me.
And thank you for coming, Polly! Right, folks, tune in to our sister station "The Minutes" for a step-by-step of the Garrloch's launch. And now, I'd like to draw your attention to a particularly interesting new dog one of our listens recently brought to my attention...
Edward was late. He was late, late--so late, in fact, that using the word late probably wasn't even a relevant term anymore. He'd been expected at the bottom of the DOC at ten in the morning. It was ten now, and the DOC's topside had only just come into view as his old beater puttered up the road to the parking lot. "Shit, shit, come on..." There was a traffic pileup for some god-forsaken reason, and he wasn't going to be getting to where he was going any time soon.
"Mom was right," he seethed, glancing to the side of the road in a desperation. He should definitely have left his hotel room a good two hours earlier, just to be safe. He'd been distracted, though: a wonderful book about a world where there were no mysteries around the globe, and the only things left to explore were skyward. It was hard to put down those science-fiction books about space. After taking three flights and passing through Canthican border security, of course a blasted book would be the thing that screwed him over.
And now he was rightly pickled. There was only one chance he had at making it. "Not like I'll need it anyway," he told himself, before he pulled sharply to one side of the road through a flurry of honks and indignant drivers. He put the car in park, leapt out of the vehicle with his suitcase, and sprinted down the road. He had to carry his suitcase in both hands, but at least he was making progress.
He burst through the revolving door of the DOC's main lobby with a gasp, ignoring the loud cries of outrage from everyone around him. It didn't matter: he was late. "PLEASE," he huffed, dropping onto the receptionist's counter in exhaustion. "I'm...on the Garrloch. I mean...I should be. What's...the fastest...you can get me...down there?" His breathing came in labored puffs.
The receptionist barely even blinked at him. "Mr. Samick?" she asked. When he nodded, she jerked a stern finger in the direction of one of the doors. "In through there. You've been cleared for the Drop. Your luggage too. Be quick about it: Conway is not in a patient mood."
He blurted his thanks and lurched toward the door. Behind it was a long hallway. Ed groaned. Beyond that was two flights of stairs, and by the time he finally made it to the end, he was out of breath again.
"Samick?" asked a slightly smiling man. He looked like an attendant, or something. "Here, let me take that for you. This won't take long." Ed wanted to ask questions, but he somehow found himself sitting on a seat of some kind, with his luggage gone and straps covering his body. He opened his mouth to ask questions, but the attendant shook his head and interrupted.
"Arms in, head straight. Don't move, and try not to scream. Clock in once you hit the ground. Good luck."
Then the man stepped back, hit three buttons in a sequence, and before Ed could do more than process the words, the floor dropped out from under him, and he was hurtling downward at breakneck speeds. His arms were flopping everywhere, his head was tilted back, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs. The wind tore at his eyes, his hair swirled around with wild abandon, and he could practically feel the water rushing up to smash him. No one had told him about this part of the trip. He'd heard plenty about the soft and gentle lift, but not this at all.
He suddenly realized that he had stopped moving, even though his mouth was still open in a silent scream. "Wow, you really had no idea what to expect from that, did you?" came a voice to his left, and the straps were undone around him. He looked numbly over to see another similarly dressed attendant holding his suitcase out to him. "Just go out those double doors there, and head down the dock straight. You can't miss the Garrloch: it's the one with the fuming captain in front of it." Then he smiled and saluted.
Ed didn't say at all: he took his luggage and headed out the doors in a dumbstruck silence. So that was the Drop. He'd heard snippets about it during his research, but all he knew was that it was a faster way down to sea level.
Sea Level.
His eyes lit up and his head snapped up. Out beyond the dock stretched the horizon. Not the Ring of Thunder, which rumbled ever onward somewhat in the distance. But past that he saw the world. The ocean. Water and sky. "Holy hell," he whispered. It took him a long moment to tear his eyes away from the brand new sight, and begin his trudge down the dock. The attendant was right: it was impossible to miss Captain Vernon Conway storming back and forth in front of the Garrloch's gangplank.
"About bloody time," growled the captain as Ed trudged up. "I was wonderin' if you lot would even deem to show up. You're lucky you're not the last one here, or I'd have words for you, bucker. C'mon, now. Get in, and I'll talk to you later. Take a right once you reach the end of the hall and head up the stairs to the right to get on the upper deck. That's where y'rall gatherin' for now."
He resumed pacing, and Ed did as he was told. Although it was a pain to lug his stuff up all the stairs, Ed didn't want to risk the captain's ire. He lifted up and up and up, and then broke through to the light again.
Everyone was gathered at the fore of the ship. That was what it was called, right? He'd done some rudimentary studying of ship terms, but not nearly enough to be confident. "Uh...hi," he said to everyone gathered around. "I'm a Edward Samick, a reporter for the Winged Gazette in Edgenook. Um..."
Okay, so this was a bit awkward.
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