4.21 An Autogiro? No!

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21. In Flight

With passengers buckled in, the helicopter rises, vibrating and ear-splitting.
   A tres chic cabin, muses Olga; glancing about; she estimates the inside is 4 meters wide and 2 meters high. Her arty eye takes in the Golden Mean dimensions of the windows. Had she measured, it would show 100 by 61.5 centimeters, the ratio preferred by the human eye according to that Roman of the rules Vitruvius. Or so had said the classical art tutor Daddy forced on her and who had tried to force himself on twelve-year-old Olga. She makes a face, recalling the limp-wrist faggy Frenchman who turned out not such a fag after all. But he must have been good: I never forgot his lessons – both kinds.

   The seating compartment allows 4 passengers, 2 each, face to face. Across the aisle is a cushioned ledge for passengers to socialize when they prefer not to sit in a facing compartment. In right rear, Zhenya sits in full view at desk, usually writing in her log, her head inclined to her left.
  A serious chick, a typical Soviet type, Olga muses. All work, no play! I could teach her a trick or two. Behind Zhenya is a unisex WC.

   In front, through open door, Olga sees Boris leaning forward between pilot on left and copilot. Shortly, he returns to sit beside her in rearmost compartment by window. Dr. Pevzner sits facing them and the conversation can easily include Zhenya.

   Zhenya passes them tray with 3 cups of coffee and cookies.

   “Isn't this aircraft what they call ‘autogiro’?” asks Olga, recalling ‘autogiro’ from the song I’ll Buy That Dream she has recently done at her nightclub.

   “Autogiro, Madam Comrade,” answers the doctor, taking off his eyeglasses to clean the lenses and talking in stilted formal Soviet way, “is aeroplane with propeller and wings, has free action horizontal top rotor attached to fuselage, but the rotor has no engine powers like our craft's rotors. Idea is autogiro takes off like aeroplane down runway by propeller power and, air current of take-off starts rotor turning and creates upward lift to take off quick and rise rapid. Has limited use and weighs craft down. No future in autogiro.” The doctor gives negative pursed-lip shake of head, and Olga thinks, What a know-it-all!
   Boris takes over. “Allow me to explain the flying, Olenka. Angle of rotor blade with horizontal gives lift and forward momentum. Each blade has separate control allowing pilot to tilt side, move fast forward, or go up. Rear vertical rotor is for fine maneuver for place like Siziman Bay with landing space a forest clearing no aeroplane can land.”
   “Sounds great” says Olga wryly “But what about not having wings; what if engine fails and the rotor stops? Do we have parachutes?”

   Zhenya leans toward them: “Mebee I eggsplain zafety prozeedure, Gnadige Frau. Ist mein jop.” Zhenya had not spoken previously, now Olga knows why! Her German accent due to her being of German speaking minority!
   Olga smiles and says “Please tell us Zhenya.”
   “Danken Zie, Olgka. If engine fail, upward air from free fall vill keppen der rotor shpinningk undt maken parazhoot effect.” Zhenya smiles trying to reassure. “Pliss not tsu haben angst. Go back und fort 18 monat, sehr goot shipp”   
   She switches to trip data. “Kapitan vill do hunnert zixty kilo an oor; in English zistem izt hunnert mile so mebee acht oor to Siziman Bay.” She indicates the window with wave of arm. “Now Kepitan Griboff vishes tsu gib newleyveds view of Amur Delta. Pliss look down right side.”

                                                 

Looking, Olga sees the Amur Delta as the river flows past Khabarovsk to the sea. Behind, and on the north side of the river, the buildings of Khabarovsk are fast disappearing as they head north. Ahead is green forest on low irregular hills with no sign of humans.

   Boris comments: “You see, Olenka, how rich in resources our – and our includes yours too, beloved, as new Soviet citizen – motherland is. Millions of hectares of timber! But we new Soviet men and women will not rape the land as Americans do. We have no capitalist who looks at beauty of green forest and sees millions tons of cut timber, processed board and wood houses, with the huge profits fueled by the great god of capitalists – its Mammon madness – unlimited population growth and markets. In contrast we control human births so that forests will not be wasted by people driven by overpopulation to get living space at expense of natural resource.”
   Doctor shakes head negatively, his favorite mannerism, “Well and good, my idealistic young man. But will be national suicide to limit births now. The women of Japan – I read in Pravda – have 10 or more children by government order. And Hitler is giving his Aryan girls bonuses for each baby over number 3. How may we maintain empty land of rich resources when Japan and Germany teem with ever growing hordes of youth being propagandized to invade Russia for lebensraum? Do you not read Hitler in Mein Kampf? He does not mince words; he wants the Ukraine for German wheat, Byelorus for workers, Georgia and Azerbaijan for oil! And as in time of Great Catherine, Germans will come and colonize and have many babies.

   Zhenya interrupts: “Pliss, pliss! Let us not spick poloticks und war Ve haf schoen scenery und goot tripp ahedt. Comen Zie, ist time tsu essen.” She serves box lunches.
  Olga could not agree more with Zhenya. This Doctor Man is a pain in my you-know-what, she thinks. Thank heaven for Zhenya! She unties the cardboard box Zhenya has put on the table and inside are 2 fresh-baked fragrant rolls, cuplets of chilled yellow butter and small jar of white cream-cheese to smear on. Next to it are 5 small strips of cold-cut roast beef and sharp-spiced red sauce, 3 bite-size potato pancakes, so called latkes with apple sauce on top of each, and 5 gefilte fish balls with horse-radish dip. For salad, Zhenya brings a big plate of fresh tomato, lettuce, cut carrots and boiled eggs removed from shell along with slices of Russian black bread.

   “Boris, honey, let me help Zhenya prepare this food as sandwiches. If you have something to discuss with the pilots do it now and come back to eat in about ten minutes.” She turns to Doctor. “You too Major.” And to the surprised and gratified Zhenya, “I hope I may help you now, darling.”

   They set about making the sandwiches and Zhenya brews Chinese tea and gets French macaroons and English plum tarts. Fifteen minutes later they are eating.

Two hours into the journey, Zhenya pulls green curtains over inner windows and the passengers lie down and sleep with only Zhenya’s portable lamplight at desk as she writes in log and then studies English while the helicoptor drones on towards Siziman Bay.
                         For next, click 4.22 Honeymoon begins