The flames of the electronic fireplace flickered gently, and the surface of the leather sofa reflected a faint cold light. The wine glass on the coffee table was empty, leaving only a trace of wine stain on the glass, and there wasn't much left in the bottle either. Slightly tipsy, Hal leaned on one side of the sofa, recalling that particularly lively Christmas. The warmth left by those cozy moments still lingered, but it couldn't completely dispel the traces of gloom in his heart.
In Seashore City, it doesn't snow, but when the typhoon passes during winter, raindrops hit the floor-to-ceiling windows and the sky is overcast, with clouds so thick they seem to press down. Hal thought it would be better if it just snowed.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Hal picked it up, and Carol's voice came through: "Sorry, Hal, you probably really can't return to your original position. It's not much related to the previous accident, but rather they're not hiring. Even fighter pilots are being downsized. If you don't want to fly commercial flights, you can only switch to space work."
"I understand, thank you, Carol." Hal wiped his forehead from bottom to top, brushed his hair back, and then said, "I'm not in great shape lately, and perhaps I won't be able to handle such work anymore. I'm considering finding a temp job..."
"No matter what, I love you," Carol said. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Take good care of yourself. When this busy period is over, we can plan a trip."
"Alright, I'll wait for you. Goodbye."
After hanging up, Hal collapsed back onto the sofa. He picked up the application form beside him, hesitated for a moment, then dialed a number: "Hello? Mr. Rodriguez? I think we can talk, do you have some time now?"
After hanging up the phone again, Hal stood up and went to the bathroom to wash his face. Looking at himself in the mirror, he touched the stubble on his chin, shaved again with the razor, and then put on his coat.
Just as he was about to leave, he paused, turned back, and grabbed the application form. Looking at the "Re-flight Application" title on the form, Hal remembered how ambitious he was when he first received this form.
On Christmas Eve, everyone drank heavily, letting themselves get drunk. Hal was the second to wake up the next morning, after Bruce. He went to Bruce's room, knocked on the door, and said, "Bruce, I have something I want to talk to you about."
"Come in," Bruce said gently. He seemed to have eaten a Golden Apple again, making him look a bit younger, which made him appear less intimidating, and Hal felt less nervous.
"It's like this. I... I previously had an accident. During a test flight, I didn't perform the required skill set and happened to encounter air turbulence, resulting in a failed test flight. This caused me to lose my job. At first, I didn't think it was my fault, but now I realize that I was too naive and reckless. I have to take 90% of the responsibility for this accident."
Hal's brows were lowered, looking as if he was confessing. He said, "I'm not trying to make excuses for myself. But everyone knows I am the best test pilot on the West Coast. I have honed myself over decades into the sharpest air blade. I don't want to ruin my life because of an accident, nor do I want to disappoint Carol and her father."
"So you want to re-fly?"
"Yes. But I also know that after such a major accident, I have no chance of reinstatement through normal procedures. So I'm asking you for help. I assure you, this will never happen again."
"You don't want to go to your girlfriend and your father-in-law for help because you don't want them to look down on you?"
Hal shook his head and said, "Not entirely. I just think they might not be able to help me this time."
"Why?"
"The Air Force might downsize, or rather, it will definitely downsize. In this situation, they will not hire a test pilot who has had a major accident." Hal expressed some pain and said, "The Fris family isn't omnipotent. They might give up on me."
Bruce agreed with Hal's judgment. The Air Force indeed might downsize. It sounds counterintuitive, as the expansion of space work should require more recruitment in the Air Force. But in reality, NASA and the United States Air Force (USAF) are two completely separate departments, while the United States Space Force (USSF) belongs to an interdepartmental category between the two.
The issue is that Air Force pilots, Space Force pilots, and NASA astronauts are essentially the same group of people. The talent pool in this field is limited; if you have more, I will have less.
With the current policy shifting back to a space race version, NASA and USSF are experiencing explosive expansions in funding and personnel. To make way for the space policy, the United States Air Force has to downsize, relinquish funds, and send more pilots to the aerospace field instead of wasting limited resources on ground combat.
During such times, if Hal wants to switch to space work, even though he has had a major accident, NASA and the Space Force might still take him—because there's a shortage of people there. But Hal just wants to be a ground-based fighter pilot, which makes it very difficult as it entails significant competition.
Pilots like Hal, being among the best in America, enjoy high insurance coverage and pressure the insurers for claims; no one dares deny them. Plus, the salary is generous, and the benefits are excellent. In younger years, they could be test or fighter pilots, and as they age, they could switch to commercial flights, with lifelong subsidies. Life couldn't be much better.
At the same time, Hal is a representative of the Fris family, where Carol belongs, within the Air Force. The Fris family will spare no effort to support him, ensuring their voice in the aviation field. However, Hal is not completely controlled by them and enjoys considerable freedom. Because pilots with outstanding talent are rare, sometimes even the Fris family has to plead with him.
This is why, after such a major accident, his father-in-law is still trying hard to pull him out of it. Frankly, if it weren't for the Martian invasion incident, he would just need to wait peacefully for a period of time. Once things settle down, he could return to his position as if nothing had happened.
Therefore, Hal can be said to be the one living the best life within the Justice League.
However, because the treatment is so good, everyone desires such a comfortable life. So once there's a downsizing, everyone wants to fight to stay and don't want to be transferred to the Aerospace Bureau or the Space Force.
These two units are not bad, but as everyone knows, working in the cosmos is extremely tough, and it requires a significant spirit of dedication. Not to mention spending so many days in the space station, where life is extremely inconvenient—no one is willing to go even for money.
Under these circumstances, excellent pilots prefer to remain on Earth. This also leads to Hal, a test pilot who has had an accident, being unable to compete against them.
The Fris family has some power, but other families are not lacking either. With everyone exerting their power, Hal's critical flaw of having a major accident experience is almost like a death sentence. Therefore, Hal didn't urge Carol any further but turned directly to Bruce. Under the current situation, only Wayne's large-scale intervention might make things possible.
Hal also wanted to seek help from Clark. But he knew that Clark essentially doesn't understand the ways of upper-class society; he would want him to compete fairly, and since he has already made a major mistake, he must bear the consequences of his errors.
This kind of thinking is certainly not wrong. However, Hal joined the Justice League to leverage the gang's power to fight for his own interests. He didn't speak up before because he hadn't made any significant contributions to the team. But after this battle, he believes he performed quite well, contributing significantly to Bruce's plan and the team's efforts. Hence, he naturally can make demands to meet his own interests. Essentially, it's not about right or wrong but a kind of interest exchange.
Bruce clearly understands these things better than Clark. So he nodded and said, "I'll have a word with Shiller; he'll mediate. However, given the current situation, directly placing you in is not very possible. You still need to prepare yourself."
Hal nodded and said, "I will. If there's nothing else here, I'm ready to go back to Earth to resume training."
Bruce nodded, and Hal left. Shiller was very efficient; before Hal returned to Earth, he came to find him.
The two sat in front of the spaceship porthole. Shiller brought the leftover red wine from the Christmas Eve dinner party, pouring a little for each of them. Hal picked up the wine glass and took a sip. Shiller put several documents on the table and then said, "Under special instruction from the president, the Air Force and aerospace companies canceled their litigation against you. But this is only the first step. Your previous accident was too severe; your license was revoked, and your identity is already blacklisted. I persuaded them to remove your name from the blacklist, but you need to retake the license exam and must perform exceptionally well in the entry interview to have the chance of reinstatement. Can you do this?"
"Thank goodness, that's a big help." Hal breathed a sigh of relief and began reviewing those documents. In fact, his greatest concern wasn't the litigation—the Fris family would manage that. The most troublesome parts were the license revocation and the industry blacklist. Without sufficiently influential help, these roadblocks were almost immovable.
Hal didn't dare to hope for the direct issuance of a license or to be given a job out of nowhere. It's important to know that the job of a pilot is unlike any other; the technical requirements are extraordinarily high. Even if it's just a pilot having an off day, it could lead to a disaster. And after an accident, the consequences are exceedingly severe. The economic, reputational, and timeliness losses for both the procurer and the manufacturer are unimaginable.
The direct economic loss from Hal's previous accident alone exceeded three million US Dollars. He was test-flying not even the latest model but just an export-modified version of the fighter jet. The other various losses are incalculable. No one dared to gamble with such a substantial amount of money, so the scrutiny is exceptionally strict. Having the opportunity to retake the exam is already thanks to Wayne's Cash Strength at play.
Hal turned to the last page and saw an application form. The data on it was both unfamiliar and familiar. He put away the documents and then looked at Shiller, saying, "I'm heading back to Earth for retraining. If all goes well, I can soon resubmit my application."
Shiller nodded and said, "Superpowers might not positively affect training, so try not to use them if possible. You don't have to rush; your position is always reserved for you."
Hal stood up, shook hands with him, and then said, "Thank you so much. Once I'm back flying, I'll definitely treat you all to dinner."
"No need to be so polite." Shiller smiled at him. Just as he was about to leave, Shiller stopped him and then said, "This wine doesn't quite suit my taste; you should take it back and enjoy it."
Hal raised an eyebrow, picked up the bottle, glanced at it, and then said, "This is quite expensive."
"Wayne's collection, don't let it go to waste."
"Then I'll accept it gladly."