Wayne slumped against the console, still gripping his coffee. “Okay, the foils work. But if we’re gonna use them without killing ourselves, we need better control.”
Spyder, still grinning from their accidental flight, nodded. “Define 'better control.’”
Wayne “I mean,” he said, gesturing at the chrome knob, “maybe something with better control than the 'Knob of Death' over there. Athena, you got any ideas?”
Athena's voice perked up with unmistakable enthusiasm. “Certainly, Captain, I’ve been analyzing optimal hydrofoil configurations during our test. May I suggest individual servo control for each foil?”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been analyzing? For how long?”
Athena replied, “Since Wayne began construction. He used the shipboard Computer Aided Design software stored in my systems. I monitored every step... for safety reasons of course”
Wayne scratched his head. “Individual control… You mean like, each foil responds separately?”
Athena, now in 'explaining mode' answers, “Precisely. Think of it as biomimetic engineering—dolphins don’t use their fins as a single unit. They adjust each one independently for maximum efficiency and maneuverability.”
Spyder’s eyes lit up. “You’re talking about flying this thing like a dolphin.”
“In crude terms, yes. I could manage the servo timing, calculate optimal angles for turns, even program porpoise-style leaps for speed bursts. All you’d need to do is tell me where to go.”
Wayne looked skeptical. “And this is safer than the chrome knob of death?”
“Considerably. My reaction time is approximately 847 times faster than human reflexes. I can make micro-adjustments every 0.003 seconds.”
Vanessa grinned. “So instead of Spyder trying to hand-fly a rocket, we let Athena be the pilot?”
“Co-pilot,” Spyder corrected. “I still call the shots.”
Athena acquiesces, “Of course, Captain. I merely execute your commands... with precision.”
Wayne spent the next hour rewiring the foil controls directly into Athena’s navigation core. Four separate servo motors, each responding to her calculations instead of human fumbling. “Alright,” he announced, wiping grease off his hands. “Each foil’s independent now. Athena’s got full fine motor control.”
“Excellent,” Athena purred. “Shall we test the dolphin protocols?”
Spyder settled back into the pilot seat, this time with considerably more confidence. “Show me what you’ve got, Athena. But gently.”
“Of course, Captain. Initiating graceful ascent in three… two… one…”
The Dauntless rose smoothly onto her foils—no lurching, no surprises. Then Athena banked them into a sweeping turn that felt less like boating and more like flying through liquid sky.
Wayne, watching the water peel away in perfect spirals: “Holy shit.”
“Language, Mr. Wayne,” Athena chided playfully. “Though I appreciate the sentiment. Would you like to see a porpoise leap?”
Before anyone could object, the Dauntless dipped slightly, built speed, then launched clear of the water in a graceful arc that would have made any marine mammal proud.
They landed with barely a splash.
Vanessa whooped. “Athena, that was beautiful!”
“Thank you. I’ve been studying cetacean biomechanics in my spare processing cycles. Dolphins are remarkably efficient.”
Spyder, awed and slightly terrified: “Remind me to never doubt your ‘spare processing cycles’ again.”
Wayne just shook his head. “Next time I complain about the boat being too slow, just remember this conversation.”
Hydrofoil control protocols: successful. Crew confidence: elevated. Maneuverability: optimal for future anomaly investigations. Note: Biomimetic research proves useful for more than just efficiency.
There are days when you crawl, days when you drift, and days when you reinvent the ancient science of “try it and see what happens.” On the Dauntless, if you don’t expect to fly, you’re in the wrong story.