Power
38 miles southwest of Muscat, Oman
June 17, 2030
“The hospital is losing power! We are down to our last generator and it is going to run out of fuel in barely over an hour! It could give out even sooner the way we’re taxing it. When that happens, all critical life support systems will go down! We’ve already lost so many… We can’t afford to - ”
“We copy you, doctor,” Major Davis cutoff, already knowing the severity of the situation, standing on a cliff overlooking the flooding town. “We can’t come in by road to resupply, it has been washed out by the cyclone. I’ve got squadrons already attempting repairs.”
“What about an air drop of some kind?” the desperate man radioed from below. “At least deliver enough fuel for us to last a little bit longer, yeah?”
“Also to risky I’m afraid. Winds in the valley make any kind of flight to dangerous. But we - ”
“Then what are you good for, major?! I thought UNIRO was supposed to help people!” the doctor snapped.
“It is!” Davis responded in a strong tone, slamming his boot down into the muddy dirt. “If you’d just let me speak you would already know help is coming. Now, I need you to remain calm in this situation. I recognize the urgency more than most, believe me. But you must understand, doctor, UNIRO doesn’t give up so easily. We always have a plan…” A low reverberating hum began echoing across the soaked mountain range, emanating from the gray clouds streaking by a thousand feet above. Lights slowly emerged from the blanketing haze, over ten of them and counting, growing brighter as the major’s smile grew wider. “…and I’m staring right at it,” he said proudly.
Twelve white Phoenix aircraft descended through the low cloud deck, three Phoenix 1s, two Phoenix 10s, and seven Phoenix 2s, the great lumbering VTOL cargo workhorse of UNIRO’s aerial fleet. Each plane lowered its landing gear as rain and sand blew away under a new storm of rotorwash.
“Power will be back on in less than thirty minutes, doctor,” Davis radioed confidently as the Phoenixes almost simultaneously touched down atop the high plateau that was located roughly 2,000 feet above the valley floor. “You have my word.” And with that the major ended the transmission.
Every Phoenix lowered its rear cargo bay door, with thirty total rescuers filling out carrying equipment and supplies. One of them ran towards Davis immediately.
“Major Davis!” the woman yelled through the flying mist and mud kicked up by the idling aircraft, standing at attention. “Captain Beljaars. Subgroup 2, Infrastructure Support. Renewable Energy Supply Squadron 4.”
“At ease, captain!” Davis said, waving his hand. “Get those kites going on the double! We’ve got a hospital down there ready to lose all power at any moment with 156 patients and staff held up inside.”
“It’d be my absolute pleasure, sir,” Beljaars smiled eagerly. She turned around and sprinted back to the aircraft, rallying her squadron members, shouting orders left and right.
Davis watched as white and blue self-propelled shipping containers drove themselves out of each Phoenix 2’s cargo bay, two per plane. Small rugged vehicles carrying personnel and materials drove out of the other two types of aircraft, both being too small to hold the size of the containers. Affixed to one end of each twenty foot long container was a large drone with wing tips folded and eight small propellers; its nose pointed towards the ominous clouds. A cradle held the drone in place, snuggling the leeward side of each carbon fiber wing. Inside a large covered spool held horizontally atop the container’s roof was a coiled cable that connected to a port under the drone’s main body.
Once the containers were clear the group of Phoenixes departed the plateau, quickly ascending back into the clouds from which they had come. The UNIRO members guided each container unit to a predetermined position spaced a few hundred feet apart from one another. A set of five foot telescoping spikes were lowered from the container’s wheelbase, helping to stabilize them in the soft terrain.
Other personnel laid out ground wiring, inverters and pieces of electrical equipment, all connecting back to a larger ten inch wire that was put into place before the group’s arrival a few hours earlier. This ten inch wire ran off the edge of the cliff and down into the valley where it had been connected to the town’s electrical transmission lines; fortunately spared from the worst of the cyclone’s winds. The natural gas-fired facility that would normal supply them was flooded out and nonoperational.
Within fifteen minutes of landing the container modules had been set, drone wings were unfolded, wiring connected to the main, and all other equipment placed. The plug and play architecture of UNIRO operations was showing its extreme efficiency in the face of disaster.
“Major Davis,” Captain Beljaars radioed into the man’s earpiece from 200 yards off. “We’re ready for power generation. On your command, sir.”
“Release,” the major nodded.
Beljaars repeated the command to the other personnel at each container, waving her left arm back and forth. “Release! Release!”
Propellers on each drone began to spin faster and faster in a high pitch electric whine. One by one the drones left their cradles and let the gusting winds strafing the plateau gently nudge them higher into the gray sky, their cables slowly unspooling as they did.
Davis laughed with pride as what the personnel called Power Kite’s reached 500 feet and began gliding in vertical loops as their eight rotors were powered down, now allowed to be spun by the force of the wind driven glide. Shortly thereafter electrons starting flowing down the conductive cable holding each flying wind turbine to its container module and into an inverter, which then in turn pumped clean electricity into the main cable and down into the valley.
“Just over a megawatt is being generated, major,” Beljaars radioed happily. “We’re piping to the town, all excess is going into our battery storage units.”
Before Davis could answer her a transmission came in from below. “Major Davis!” an overjoyed voice called. “We… We have power! All systems are up and running. It’s a miracle! A miracle!” a man said, sounding to be almost on the verge of tears.
The major peered down into the valley, seeing the hospital’s lighting fully up and running. Other buildings across the stricken town began coming on as well block by block. His mission, for now, was done.
“It was no miracle, doctor,” Davis grinned. “It was just UNIRO.”
Cover photo credit: Wikipedia