I felt suddenly angry, the optimism stripped from my thoughts by the sheer futility of this pointlessly unutilised space.
What was our goal here?
Doubts again flooded my mind, what if we were to get off the island somehow, maybe reaching Morocco, to find that totally abandoned too?
As I saw it our options were broad, but farfetched. As we cycled around searching for inspiration I tried to weigh up the cons and limitations (as very few pros sprang to mind) of each of the following:
A standard, fuel-burning small aircraft.
Advantages: Lightweight, could fit both of us, potentially easier to fly than a more complicated airliner, further range than just to another Canary Island meant Africa may be within reach.
A helicopter.
Advantages: Probably easier to take off, land and operate than an actual aircraft, fewer controls, depending on size could most likely fit both of us. Problems: Again, probable lack of combustible fuel, shorter range meant probably only another Canary Island within reach.
An electric aircraft of some sort
Advantages: Could be flown without fuel, airport electricity most probably up and running so could be charged. Probably much easier to operate and fly than a fuel burning aircraft. Problems: Did they even exist? What would the range be? Could it take the weight of two people?
Hang glider/glider
Advantages: Powered solely by pilot, no complicated controls to fly. Problems: Need significant altitude to launch (top of Gran Hotel maybe?). Lack of range. Rely on thermal updrafts to travel long distances, so would be ineffective over sea. Could only reach Fuerteventura in all likelihood. Risk of crashing into sea…
Hot air balloon
Advantages: Could be flown without fuel provided gas tanks were available. Easier
to operate than standard aircraft. Could surely hold two people. Potential for travelling further, possibly African coast. Problems: How to steer. At mercy of winds…
There may be other possibilities I thought, but until we got wherever we were going it was impossible to say what the best course of action would be. I didn’t think it would be a problem trying to persuade Akari to get on board, literally, with any of them, even though she seemed more resigned to her fate now than she had been back in Arrecife. There was a sort of acquiescent expression on her face, as if she were experiencing life for the last time, and wanted simply to bask in its glory before being taken from it. I caught her eye and tried to smile, and she nodded calmly as we rode along.
18%
I thought it pointless to begin at the terminal itself. I felt it would only contain shops, gates and a sense of foreboding, but after Akari motioned that she was hungry I reasoned it would be good practice to at least fill our bellies and stock up on some drinking water before we got started on our search for a working flight aid.
The good thing about the terminal was that signs were in English as well as Spanish, and although this didn’t help Akari I felt more at home with signs pointing me to relevant spots in my own language.
We raided a Caffe Di Fiore in Terminal 2 for some bottled mineral water and a few pre-prepared sandwiches that I stuck in a backpack I picked up in a news stand. There was total silence in the terminal hall and the flight boards indicating arrivals and departures were frozen in time as I expected they would be, but it didn’t diminish the sense of emptiness of the place. I stood in front of the main boards for a moment and took it in. Flights went mainly to mainland Europe. There were plenty to the UK; Bristol, Manchester and Heathrow being the main destinations it seemed, but Spain was strongly represented with Bilbao, A Coruna and Valencia all receiving regular flights throughout the day.
Whichever day it was of course. I assumed the 4th of July…
According to the signs, Lanzarote airport had two terminal buildings and a cargo terminal, and regardless of their point of departure aircraft were directed to park at something called the General Aviation Apron (PAG) upon arrival. I figured this would be a good place to start.
But how the heck did one go about stealing a plane? Off the top of my head, I thought you’d firstly need to know a lot about the plane. How would I operate the systems and get the engines started with the problem of no fuel? This made the prospect of an electric craft of some sort again more appealing. I imagined your regular airline captain would have to go through thousands of hours of simulator training in order to get up to the required standard. So if we managed to appropriate an electric or working fuel-burning plane, how would we then get it in the air? Commercial airliners required a tug to reverse them out onto the runway. Another reason to opt for a smaller plane…
Did a plane have keys? Would the cockpit only be accessible by a powered keycode? And then, if by some miracle we did get it off the ground and were able to fly unaided across to Africa, how the hell would we land the thing? One good thing at least, we didn’t have to worry about flight plans and ground control cops preventing our take off.
I realised as I was standing in the middle of the terminal that I had lost Akari. I shouted her name and heard a small yelp coming from what seemed to be a row of shopping outlets on the other side of the terminal. Panic set in, and I ran in the direction of the sound. As I did, it got louder, like the sound of a small child having a tantrum or something. I ran faster, and rounded the corner into a Gucci store where I saw Akari in the oddest position. She was bending over a rack of handbags, trying to force her head between her thighs as if she were practicing a crash landing on an airplane. Aa I reached her I put my hand onto her back, saying her name over and over as her whole body seemed to be shaking and twitching like she was in the middle of some sort of episode.
“Akari!” I shouted, “What’s happening? What’s wrong?!”
She seemed to stop shaking at the sound of my voice, and looked up from her prostrated position. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked confused, drunk even… She didn’t seem to be able to focus on my face at all and appeared to be looking straight through me.
“Koko wa dokodesu ka?” she said, her breath coming in short ragged gasps. Of course I didn’t understand this, but I assumed from her dazed expression that she was enquiring where she was or what was happening. It scared me a lot. Was this the beginning of the end for her? Had her percentage finally run out? If she was on just three percent a matter of two or three hours ago…
I felt like I was watching an execution. That dreaded point when you realise you are witnessing somebody die and try as you might you simply cannot tear your eyes away. What made it even more prescient was that exactly the same thing could be happening to me in a matter of days.
“Akari, please…” I begged. “Breathe, dammit!”
I couldn’t face the thought of expiring right in front of me. I did something I never thought possible, drawing my hand back and bringing it down fast and hard across the side of her face. The slap seemed to have an effect and she shook her head as if snapping back into awareness. I had expected her to start foaming at the mouth and dropping to the floor in her final throes, but she suddenly seemed to improve and drew in a huge rasping breath.
She stood bolt upright and a single tear welled in each of her eyes as if she’d eaten an extra hot chili. Instead of running down her cheeks as normal tears would do they welled and welled in the corner of her eyes until it seemed as though they couldn’t get any fatter without gravity taking its force. Then they seemed to leap out of her face in a forward motion; two large drops of salt water that sprang forth from her eyes and cascaded almost in slow motion to land on the floor in front of my feet. She gulped in huge breaths of air.