The Love Algorithm (True Love) by Camilla Isley

Author:Camilla Isley [Isley, Camilla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

21

THOMAS

“Dear passengers,” an announcement over the speaker system of the plane jolts me awake.

I look to my left and find Reese smiling at me. “Morning,” she mouths, even if the sky out the plane window is already dark. With the flight taking over eight hours and Rome being six hours ahead, we’re due to land at night.

I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I wanted to enjoy every second of this trip with her. But the comfortable seats and the soft hum of the airplane’s engines made it impossible not to nap. I stretch my arms and legs, still groggy.

The journey map on my screen has been turned off. Did Reese do it once I fell asleep? That’d be so thoughtful. “Where are we?” I ask.

Reese shushes me, pointing at the speakers on the plane’s ceiling, meaning she wants to listen to the public announcement.

I do the same.

“…we regret to inform you that because of a technical issue, we ran out of fuel sooner than expected and had to schedule a layover in Nice to refill our tanks. We apologize for the inconvenience this may cause to your travel plans.”

I watch Reese; she’s gripping the armrests of her seat with white knuckles.

“Relax,” I soothe. “We’re in no danger.”

“Sorry if hearing the plane is having technical malfunctions and is running out of fuel doesn’t put me at ease.” She scoffs. “You know how many things could go wrong?”

“No, but I have a sense you’re about to tell me.”

She nods. “The pilot could decide to climb to an altitude above eleven kilometers. That’s dangerous.”

“Why would he do that?”

“The thin air reduces the plane’s fuel consumption.”

“Okay. But it doesn’t feel like we’re climbing. I’m sure the pilots have everything under control.”

“Not if the gauges don’t work. If the fuel one is misbehaving, others could, too. And if the sensors don’t work, all we have standing between us and certain death are the nerves of steel of the captain. And even then, if he’s getting the wrong readings on airspeed, he’d have to guess the flight angle and thrust to maintain a steady airflow across the wings. But his guess is as good as yours, and he could plunge us to the ground or rise too much and make the plane stall and then crash… just to name a few.”

“These are the moments I’m glad I understand so little about turbine engines.”

“It’s more of a fluid dynamics issue. You can’t mess with the Bernoulli Principle.”

“Still blissful in my ignorance about the whole concept.”

That makes her crack a small smile. But to appease her anxiety, I stop a passing flight attendant.

After being reassured that the lack of fuel has been caused by a shortage with the refurbishing cistern at JFK and not a sensor malfunction, Reese visibly relaxes.

The laid-back attitude, however, positively evaporates when, after sitting for an hour on the tarmac at Nice, we’re informed that the plane hasn’t been cleared for takeoff, and we’ll have to catch a connecting flight to Rome the following morning.

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