Lucy: Victor, how much gasoline is left?
Victor: Enough for a few tests, but we'll run out by next weekend.
Victor: Don't worry. Our investors will send us another barrel before that. Still, we'd best use it sparingly. This stuff is expensive.
The engineer turns the page on his calendar, staining it with oil.
Several drafts are pinned to the wall, each marked with notes and proposed changes.
Lucy: This pipe will not be enough. It may warp if the temperature is not controlled.
Lucy: There is no guarantee of stable heat transfer. Perhaps we should add an outer casing to improve its strength.
Lucy: What do you think, Victor?
Victor: Oh, now you're interested in my input? Sure, you don't want to ask someone else—maybe one of your nut-job colleagues?
Lucy: The LSCC does not have any staff to spare for this project. I am afraid you will have to do it.
It has been six months since she heard about the engineer's project—the development of a true powered wingsuit—and dropped everything to join it.
Lucy: This fuel tank will be too small for a flight of any significant duration.
Lucy: Not that it matters. Our engine is already severely limited by our materials and weight requirements.
Lucy: But we can still give it a try. Our current improvements should meaningfully increase our flight time.
The mechanical woman turns to the wall and unpins several unneeded drafts.
Victor: Meaningful? I doubt we'll manage more than a few extra seconds.
Victor: They're expecting results. Real results. They aren't going to pay for a few seconds.
Victor: If the company pulls out, we'll have to terminate the project.
Victor: And they've been delaying pay day a little more each month. Think they're trying to tell us something?
Lucy: We have made progress. Our situation is not as grim as you make it out to be.
Lucy: Are you going to give up?
Victor: Give up? No way!
Victor: Do you know how much I've spent on this project already? Now, if I were smart, I would've never taken up this crazy scheme in the first place.
Lucy: There have been attempts before, Victor.
Victor: Yeah, I know. I remember the stories from when I was a kid. Granny flew like a bird over from Europe. Well, maybe she did figure it out, but she didn't think to write it down before she croaked.
Victor: And there have been plenty of others that have tried since! Did even one of them succeed? No! Not a single goddamn one!
Victor: So, here I am, about to be the latest one to make the same damn fool mistakes. Maybe the last.
A moment of bitter clarity strikes the engineer.
Lucy: The last one? Of course not.
Lucy: Why would you think that? The dream of flight—no, I cannot imagine humanity ever giving up on it.
Lucy: Are you aware this pointless debate has cumulatively wasted 3 hours 48 minutes and 19 seconds of our time—just this month?
Lucy: Time you might have spent better on checking these wings.
Victor: Don't tell me what to do, Iron Head.
The engineer walks away, muttering unclear but targeted complaints, until he pivots and returns back to the wings.
Lucy: Returning to my original query. I am concerned that heat from the exhaust will compromise the integrity of this piping.
Victor: Why not cool it down with water or something?
Lucy: A rapid shift in temperature would cause the pipe to explode.
Lucy: I admit that it is unlikely that this would occur during the course of our current maximum flight time.
Lucy: However, I suggest a change of material to avoid potential issues as we extend its duration.
Victor: That's not an option. We've only got what we've got.
Lucy: Why? We could greatly increase our efficiency, not to mention safety.
Victor: Because our investors asked us to! They want a model for mass production.
Victor: Our top priority is to give them confidence, otherwise they will cut our funding.
"Cut our funding"—a threat that's looming ever nearer.
Victor: Do you know how long those Wright boys are keeping their contraption in the air now? We're losing our only opportunity to make something of this project.
Lucy: The only opportunity?
Lucy: That is not true, Victor.
Lucy: Even if they were three to five years ahead of us, it would make no difference. We are heirs to the work of centuries.
Lucy: Besides, we are not precisely direct competitors.
Lucy: They have produced a rigid-wing aircraft, not a single-person wingsuit. There is room for both concepts.
Victor: Centuries?! Three to five years ahead of us?! How many three to five years are there before I'm dead and gone?
Victor: You're wrong, Luce. If they bring that thing of theirs to the market first, they win. In this business, winner takes all, pal! And loser gets nothing, literally nothing!
Lucy: Even if we are not commercially successful, our work will not be meaningless, as long as we advance scientific knowledge.
Victor: Yeah, maybe that's enough for your egghead pals at LSCC! But there's no glory in second place, Luce. No fame. No money. Not a red cent!
He seizes up, as if his rage is bubbling up under his skin, ready to explode.
Lucy: Calm yourself, Victor.
Lucy: Go get the car. We will have a test flight at the parking lot in two hours.
Victor: Didn't I already tell you not to bark orders at me?
Victor: Sorry, Ms. Lucy. I'm just frustrated. I'm on a short fuse these days.
Lucy: We should focus on our work, Victor.
...
The telephone rings.
Victor runs toward the phone, slipping over the slick oil. He's half-cursing as he picks up the receiver.
Victor: Dammit—yes, hi, hello, yeah, this is Victor speaking. How can I—
Investor: Mr. Victor, we deeply regret that we must speak to you, due to some recent developments with our competitors.
Investor: We've been forced to reassess your project, and we've come to the conclusion that it is no-longer economical for us to maintain our involvement.
Victor: "Economical"? What do you mean?
Investor: Simply put, we will be no longer providing any further funding or material support.
Investor: Given the growing success of your competitors and your own lack of results, it appears there is no longer a viable future for this project.
Investor: We appreciate your understanding in all of this. You will be hearing from us if we require your services in the future.
Victor: Hey! Don't hang up! What the hell are you saying?!
Victor: Hey! Hey!
Victor: Bastards.
Lucy: What is happening?
Victor: Got good news, and bad. Which one do you want to hear first?
Lucy: You look pale. Tell me the good news first.
Victor: The good news is we don't have to listen to those ignoramuses we called investors anymore.
Victor: The bad news is they're out.
Lucy: I see. So, they have abandoned the project?
Victor: In a manner of speaking.
Lucy: But we have not abandoned it.
Victor: ...
The engineer sits down on the oily stool, head in palms, inadvertently smearing oil over his hair.
Victor: I've got some friends to call. They might be able to salvage this mess.
Lucy: In the meantime, perhaps we should take a break. Would you like some coffee?
Victor: What? Coffee, nah ... thanks, Luce. But I'm not taking a break, this is it. It's over.
Lucy: Oh?
Victor: It was a fool's dream, Luce. Leave the flying to the birds and those damned Wright Brothers.
Victor: I'm talking about selling off all this junk. We might cover a part of our losses still.
Lucy: Are you that easily defeated?
Lucy: We still have sufficient materials to improve on our current design.
Victor: Oh, sure, and what about the one after that? Experiment after experiment, how many more times do I gotta fail before I wise up?
Victor: And what's the use? Even if we could do it, we're already too late.
Lucy: Come on, go get the car. We can run the experiment on the beach.
Lucy: No, actually, we should go to the Charles River.
Victor: What are you up to?
Lucy: The wind coming off the river will be steadier.
He moves to get up, but sinks down. Unsure of his next move, looking like a ship tossing in a storm.
Victor: ...
Victor: One last run then? For old time's sakes?
Lucy: It will not be our last.
Victor: Hmm, yeah. Let's hope. Anyway, you're right. The river is best. We'll have more attention there. Provided we get off the ground.
Lucy: This is the right decision. It would be irresponsible to give up before attempting all other possibilities.
She would not give up again. Her words conjure up an old memory—a friend from years ago in the distant past,
of the last time she had shared this path with someone, and how superstition and fear had taken it away from them, just before they reached their dreams.
And their obstacles here are far less significant. The only thing that stands in her partner's way now is his own ego and greed.
Lucy: Just think back on how much progress we have made.
Victor: Alright. We'll stick to the plan. But if we're taking the river, you'll have to fly. I can't swim.
Lucy: Not a problem.
Victor: Great! I'll get the car and call the reporters.
Victor: Let's hope we get the headline tomorrow.
