Chapter 113: The Sea Takes Flight
Location: Shergill Aerospace Test Facility, Gorakhpur
Date: 3 April 1973 — 05:30 Hours
The S-22 sat on the apron in the pre-dawn darkness, illuminated by floodlights that turned the grey-blue naval camouflage into something that looked almost silver.
Wing Commander Ajay Anand had been awake since four AM. Not because he'd set an alarm — he hadn't slept much anyway. Test pilots learned early that the night before a first flight was not a night for sleeping. It was a night for lying in bed running through the flight profile mentally, checking off systems, rehearsing emergency procedures, and trying not to think about all the ways a prototype aircraft could kill you.
He stood now at the hangar entrance with a cup of tea that had gone cold in his hand, looking at the aircraft that he would either fly successfully in three hours or become a cautionary tale about.
The S-22 Makara — named for the sea-creature from Hindu mythology, Vishnu's mount, protector of the oceans — was not a large aircraft by fighter standards. Thirty-two feet long, wingspan of twenty-seven feet when the wings were fully forward, compact and purposeful in the way carrier aircraft had to be because deck space was expensive and every foot mattered.
Carrier-based aircraft faced constraints that land-based fighters didn't. They had to be small enough to fit on aircraft carrier elevators and in the hangar deck below. They had to be strong enough to survive arrested landings that slammed them onto the deck at forces that would break land-based aircraft. They had to have excellent low-speed handling because carrier approaches were flown at speeds that would stall most fighters. And they had to fold their wings to save deck space when parked.
The S-22 addressed these requirements with variable-sweep wings that swung from 25 degrees forward for low-speed carrier approaches to 68 degrees swept for high-speed flight, a reinforced landing gear that could absorb the 20-foot-per-second sink rate of a typical carrier landing, and a structure designed to handle the stress of catapult launches and arrested recoveries thousands of times over the aircraft's service life.
But all of that was theoretical until the aircraft actually flew.
Today would answer the first question: Did it fly at all?
Wing Commander Anand — forty-one years old, three thousand hours of flight time including six hundred hours in fighters and two hundred hours as test pilot on various developmental aircraft — walked toward the S-22.
The ground crew was already running final checks. Chief Engineer Harish Mehta was under the aircraft with a flashlight, personally inspecting the landing gear one more time. Two technicians were checking the wing sweep mechanism, cycling it through its full range to verify smooth operation. Another team was checking the engine cowlings, the intake ducting, all the thousand small details that mattered enormously.
Anand stopped at the nose wheel, looking up at the cockpit canopy.
"Good morning, sir," one of the ground crew said. "She's ready when you are."
"Is she?" Anand asked.
The technician looked at him, uncertain whether the question was rhetorical.
"Yes, sir," he said. "All checks complete. Both engines were ground-tested yesterday to full power. All systems nominal. Flight control surfaces cycling properly. Hydraulics holding pressure. She's as ready as we can make her."
Anand nodded.
"Then let's see if she flies."
06:15 Hours — Pre-Flight Briefing
The briefing room held fourteen people: Anand as pilot, Dr Ramanathan from the aerospace division's aerodynamics team, Chief Engineer Mehta, two Navy observers — Captain Subramaniam and Commander Pillai, Karan Shergill, and various engineers and technicians who would monitor the flight from ground stations.
Ramanathan stood at the front with a diagram of the planned flight profile.
"First flight objectives," he said, "are basic airworthiness validation. We're not testing performance limits. We're verifying that the aircraft can take off, fly in a controlled manner, and land safely. Everything else is secondary."
He pointed at the flight profile diagram.
"Take off from Runway 27. Climb to 10,000 feet at a conservative rate. Perform basic handling checks — gentle turns, speed variations, control response. Keep the wings at 25 degrees forward sweep — minimum sweep, maximum stability. Do not — repeat, do not — attempt wing sweep changes on this flight. That comes later."
"Duration?" Anand asked.
"Thirty minutes total. That includes takeoff, climb, handling checks, landing pattern, and landing. We're keeping it short. First flight is about getting safely into the air and back down again."
"Engine parameters?" Anand asked.
Mehta took over this part. "Both Kaveri Mk 1.5 engines are rated to 97 kilonewtons dry thrust, 137 kilonewtons with afterburner. For this flight, you'll use dry thrust only. No afterburner. We want to validate basic engine operation before we test the high-stress regime."
The Kaveri Mk 1.5 was a twin-spool turbofan engine — meaning it had two rotating compressor sections driven by two separate turbines, all spinning at different speeds optimised for their specific tasks. The low-pressure compressor and turbine handled the large volume of air flowing through the engine's bypass duct. The high-pressure compressor and turbine handled the smaller volume of air that went through the combustion chamber, where fuel burned at extreme temperatures. The afterburner — positioned behind the turbine — could inject additional fuel and ignite it to produce extra thrust, but at the cost of dramatically increased fuel consumption and thermal stress on the engine components.
For a first flight, afterburner testing was an unnecessary risk. The aircraft would fly perfectly well on dry thrust alone. Afterburner testing would come later, once the basic airframe and engine integration were proven.
"Maximum speed for this flight?" Anand asked.
"Do not exceed 400 knots indicated airspeed," Ramanathan said. "We'll test higher speeds later. Today is about validating baseline flight characteristics."
"Altitude ceiling?"
"Do not exceed 15,000 feet. Stay well within the flight envelope."
Anand made notes on his flight card — a small piece of cardboard that would be strapped to his knee in the cockpit with the key flight parameters and emergency procedures.
Captain Subramaniam, the senior Navy observer, spoke for the first time.
"Wing Commander, the Navy has considerable interest in this aircraft's performance. But we have even more interest in you landing it safely, so there is an aircraft left to evaluate." His voice was dry but not unkind. "Please prioritise not crashing."
"I'll do my best, sir," Anand said.
"Good," Subramaniam said. "Because we've waited long enough for a proper carrier fighter. I'd rather not wait longer because the prototype scattered itself across the runway."
Karan, who had been listening quietly from the back of the room, spoke now.
"Ajay, if anything feels wrong — anything at all — abort and bring it back. This is flight one of eventually hundreds. We can fix problems on the ground. We can't fix them if you're scattered across the runway."
"Understood," Anand said.
The briefing continued for another twenty minutes — weather conditions (clear, wind from the west at eight knots, excellent visibility), emergency procedures (three alternate airfields within range, fire and rescue standing by), communication protocols (Anand would maintain continuous radio contact with ground control).
By 06:45, the briefing was complete.
Anand stood. "I'm going to suit up. See you all in thirty minutes."
07:15 Hours — The Flight Line
The sun was above the horizon now, turning the eastern sky orange and gold. The temperature was already climbing toward what would be a warm April day, but right now the air was cool and still.
Anand walked to the S-22 in full flight gear — g-suit, survival vest, parachute harness, helmet under his arm. The ground crew had the aircraft ready: wheel chocks in place, external power connected, safety pins removed from the ejection seat.
He walked around the aircraft once, doing his own visual inspection.
The nose: pitot tube extending forward to measure airspeed, landing light, the radar housing that currently held a ballast weight instead of actual radar (the Netra-2 radar wasn't ready yet).
The wings: swept forward to 25 degrees, giving the aircraft a stubby, purposeful look. The wing glove fairings were where the wings met the fuselage. The small fences on the upper wing surface control airflow. The leading-edge slats would deploy automatically at low speeds.
The engines: twin Kaveri intakes on either side of the fuselage, the variable-geometry ramps that would adjust automatically to optimise airflow at different speeds. The exhaust nozzles are, currently in the narrow position for subsonic flight.
The tail: all-moving stabilators rather than fixed stabilisers with elevators, giving better control authority at high speeds and angles of attack.
Everything looked right.
He climbed the ladder to the cockpit.
The interior was utilitarian: basic flight instruments arranged in a T-pattern (airspeed, attitude indicator, altimeter, heading indicator), engine gauges showing temperatures and pressures, a few switches and circuit breakers, and the control stick and throttles — the stick topped with a grip containing buttons for radio transmission and weapons release (currently inactive), the throttles with afterburner detents that he wouldn't be using today.
The cockpit of a test aircraft was deliberately simple compared to an operational fighter. Advanced avionics would be added later, once the basic airframe was proven. For now, the focus was on the fundamentals: can the pilot control the aircraft, can the engines provide power reliably, and do the control surfaces respond as predicted? Everything else was secondary.
Anand strapped in: lap belt tight, shoulder harness secure, leg restraints attached (would pull his legs back if he ejected, preventing them from flailing in the wind and breaking), oxygen mask connected, communication cord plugged in.
He ran through the startup checklist methodically.
Battery on. Check.
Hydraulic pressure is building. Check.
Flight controls — stick and rudder movement, watching the control surfaces outside respond. Check.
External power disconnect. Check.
Right engine start sequence...
The Kaveri Mk 1.5 spooled up with a rising whine that transitioned to a steady roar. Engine instruments showing green: turbine temperatures in range, fuel flow normal, oil pressure good, N1 and N2 rpm stable.
Left engine start sequence...
Same smooth acceleration to idle power, all indications normal.
Anand switched to the control tower frequency.
"Tower, Makara Zero-One, ready for taxi."
"Makara Zero-One, tower. Taxi to Runway 27. Wind 270 at eight knots. Cleared for takeoff at your discretion."
Anand released the parking brake and advanced the throttles slightly.
The S-22 rolled forward, steering with nose wheel steering initially and then with differential braking and rudder as speed increased. The handling was heavy — this was a robust aircraft designed to survive carrier operations, not a light aerobatic machine — but controllable.
He taxied to the end of Runway 27, turned into position, and stopped.
In the distance, he could see the observation tower where Karan and the Navy officers and the engineering team would be watching. Fire trucks were positioned along the runway. Everything ready.
This was it.
Anand ran through the final checks one more time.
Flight controls: full movement in all directions. Check.
Trim: set for takeoff. Check.
Flaps: deployed to takeoff setting. Check.
Engine instruments: both engines stable at idle. Check.
He keyed the radio.
"Tower, Makara Zero-One, ready for takeoff."
"Makara Zero-One, cleared for takeoff. Winds 270 at eight knots."
Anand took a breath.
Then he advanced both throttles smoothly forward to maximum dry thrust — not afterburner, just the full power of both engines without the afterburner's extra kick.
The Kaveri engines spooled up rapidly, the roar building, the airframe vibrating slightly as 274 kilonewtons of thrust pushed the 14-tonne aircraft forward.
Acceleration was brisk but not violent. The runway started sliding past faster and faster.
Sixty knots. The nose wheel getting light.
Eighty knots. Slight forward stick pressure to keep the nose from lifting too early.
One hundred twenty knots. Rotate speed.
Anand eased the stick back gently.
The nose lifted. The main wheels stayed on the runway for another two seconds, carrying the weight while the wings developed lift.
Then the rumbling stopped, the ground fell away, and the S-22 Makara was flying.
07:24 Hours — Airborne
The climb was smooth.
Anand raised the landing gear — three green lights extinguished, indicating wheels up and locked — and retracted the flaps.
Airspeed building through 200 knots. Altitude passing 3,000 feet. Rate of climb approximately 4,000 feet per minute, which was respectable for a first flight at conservative power settings.
"Makara Zero-One is airborne," he reported. "Climb to 10,000 feet, all systems normal."
From the ground: "Copy, Makara Zero-One. Looking good."
The handling was... interesting.
The S-22 felt stable but not particularly agile at this configuration — wings forward, low speed, heavy fuel load. It flew like an aircraft designed to land on carriers, which was exactly what it was: stable, predictable, forgiving.
He tried a gentle turn to the left.
Control response was immediate but not oversensitive. Bank angle increased smoothly. The aircraft held the turn without any tendency to over-bank or tighten unexpectedly. Back pressure on the stick to maintain altitude during the turn. Everything behaving as the aerodynamicists had predicted.
Reverse the turn to the right. Same solid response.
Altitude passing 6,000 feet now.
He tried varying the speed: throttles back to reduce speed to 180 knots, then forward again to accelerate to 250 knots. The engines responded smoothly. No surging, no hesitation. Thrust changes were predictable and linear.
At 10,000 feet, he leveled off.
"Makara Zero-One level at 10,000. Performing handling checks."
"Copy. We're recording all telemetry."
For the next fifteen minutes, Anand flew the S-22 through a series of gentle maneuvers: turns at different bank angles, speed changes, climbing and descending flight. Nothing aggressive, nothing near the performance limits. Just basic exploration of how the aircraft behaved.
It behaved well.
The controls were heavier than a pure fighter — this aircraft was optimized for carrier approach speeds and structural strength, not air-to-air combat agility — but they were harmonized and predictable. Roll rate was adequate. Pitch response was solid. Directional stability was good.
There were no surprises. No weird vibrations. No control anomalies. No engine problems.
It was, for a first flight, remarkably uneventful.
Which was exactly what you wanted.
"Makara Zero-One, recommend beginning descent for landing pattern."
"Copy. Beginning descent now."
He reduced power and started down, maintaining 200 knots as the altimeter unwound.
Passing 5,000 feet.
Passing 3,000 feet.
Leveling at 1,500 feet for the landing pattern.
The runway was ahead, the numbers visible in the clear morning air.
Anand configured the aircraft for landing: throttles back, speed reducing through 180 knots, landing gear down (three green lights confirmed wheels down and locked), flaps to landing setting.
The S-22 slowed to 140 knots on final approach — faster than most fighters landed, but this aircraft was designed for the even faster approach speeds required for carrier landings where you couldn't afford to get too slow.
Airspeed stable at 138 knots. Descent rate 500 feet per minute. Lineup good.
Passing 500 feet.
Passing 200 feet.
Threshold approaching.
Slight back pressure on the stick to flare, reducing descent rate. Throttles to idle. The runway rising to meet the wheels.
Main gear touched with a solid thump. Nose gear came down a second later.
Anand deployed the drag chute — a large parachute that streamed from the tail cone and helped slow the aircraft — and applied moderate braking.
The S-22 decelerated smoothly down the runway, speed bleeding off, finally slowing to taxi speed.
"Makara Zero-One is down. Thirty-one minutes flight time. Aircraft is Code One."
Code One was pilot terminology meaning the aircraft had no significant problems — fully mission-capable, ready to fly again. Code Two meant minor problems that could be fixed quickly. Code Three meant major problems requiring extensive maintenance.
From the tower, there was a pause before the response came.
Then: "Copy, Makara Zero-One. Code One. Excellent work. Taxi back to the apron."
Anand taxied back slowly, the engines purring smoothly, the aircraft rolling straight without any tendency to pull or wander.
When he reached the apron and shut down the engines, the ground crew was already approaching. But before they reached him, he sat in the cockpit for a moment in the sudden silence after the engines spooled down.
The S-22 Makara had flown.
Not just flown — flown well, predictably, without drama or problems.
It was only the first flight. There would be hundreds more: high-speed tests, wing sweep tests, weapons separation tests, carrier compatibility tests, and eventually the actual carrier landing trials that would be the real validation.
But today, the aircraft had left the ground under its own power and returned safely.
That was enough.
08:30 Hours — Debriefing
The debriefing room was more crowded than the pre-flight briefing had been. Word had spread that the first flight was successful, and people who had worked on the program for years wanted to hear the details.
Anand stood at the front with his notes.
"Basic assessment: the aircraft flies well. Handling is stable and predictable. Control response is good. Engine performance is excellent — smooth power delivery, no surging or hesitation, throttle response is immediate."
He went through the flight point by point: takeoff roll distance (approximately 800 meters with dry thrust only), climb performance (4,000 feet per minute), handling characteristics (stable but not particularly agile at forward sweep), landing (straightforward, no surprises).
"Issues?" Ramanathan asked.
"Minor," Anand said. "There's a slight vibration around 220 knots that I'd want to investigate — could be airflow interaction around the wing glove, but it wasn't severe. The nose wheel steering is heavy at low taxi speeds — might need hydraulic pressure adjustment. And I'd like more rudder authority at approach speeds, but that might just be a question of getting used to the aircraft's characteristics."
"Nothing structural?" Mehta asked.
"Nothing structural. The airframe felt solid throughout. No creaking, no unusual sounds, no indication of stress."
Captain Subramaniam stood. "Wing Commander, from a Navy perspective — is this aircraft carrier-capable?"
Anand considered the question carefully.
"Based on today's flight, I believe so. The low-speed handling is good enough for carrier approaches. The aircraft is stable and forgiving at approach speeds, which is critical for carrier work. The landing gear handled the runway touchdown well, and carrier landings are harder impacts — if the gear can survive thousands of carrier traps, it handled today's landing with margin to spare."
"But," he continued, "I haven't tested it on a carrier yet. I haven't done arrested landings or catapult launches. I haven't operated it in the confined space of a carrier deck with deck crew and arresting wires and all the complexity of naval operations. So I can say the aircraft has the potential to be carrier-capable. Whether it actually is will be determined in the next phase of testing."
Subramaniam nodded. "Fair assessment."
Commander Pillai spoke. "Timeline to carrier trials?"
Ramanathan answered. "Six to eight months minimum. We need to complete the full flight envelope expansion first — high speed, high altitude, wing sweep, weapons separation, systems integration. Only after all of that is validated on land do we attempt carrier operations."
"And production?" Pillai asked, looking at Karan. "When can the Navy actually receive operational aircraft?"
Karan spoke from where he'd been standing against the wall.
"The production facility in Bombay is currently seventy percent complete. Construction started in June last year. The main assembly hall is finished, equipment installation is ongoing, and we're training the assembly workforce now."
He pulled out a folder with production schedules.
"First production aircraft will be delivered in December this year — nine months from now. That's contingent on the test program proceeding without major problems, but based on today's flight, I'm confident we'll meet that timeline."
"December 1973?" Pillai said. "That's faster than I expected."
"The factory has been under construction for ten months," Karan said. "We didn't wait for first flight to start building production capability. By the time testing is complete, production will be ready."
"Production rate?" Subramaniam asked.
"Initial rate will be three aircraft per month — thirty-six per year. That ramps to four per month — forty-eight per year — by mid-1974 once the workforce is fully trained and we've optimized the assembly process."
Subramaniam and Pillai exchanged glances.
"At thirty-six per year, the Navy's requirement for forty-eight aircraft is filled in sixteen months," Subramaniam said. "At forty-eight per year, it's twelve months."
"Correct," Karan said. "Full squadron strength by late 1974 or early 1975, depending on how quickly we ramp production."
"That's... aggressive," Pillai said.
"That's necessary," Karan replied. "The Navy needs carrier fighters. We've designed one that works. Now we build them in quantity and deliver them on schedule. The production line is designed to handle this volume — we're using lessons learned from S-27 Pinaka production at the Gorakhpur facility."
The S-27 Pinaka — India's first domestically-designed fighter aircraft — had been in production at Shergill Aerospace's Gorakhpur facility since 1971. The production line there was currently delivering approximately forty-eight aircraft per year to the Indian Air Force. The experience gained from establishing that production line — training workers, developing assembly procedures, managing supply chains, maintaining quality control at volume — was being directly applied to the S-22 program.
"Beyond the Navy's initial requirement," Karan continued, "we're already discussing orders from the Air Force for land-based variants. The swept-wing configuration and Kaveri engines give the S-22 performance that's useful beyond just carrier operations. Total production could be a hundred and twenty to a hundred and fifty aircraft over four to five years."
"Export potential?" Subramaniam asked.
"Potentially not so significant," Karan said. "Some Southeast Asian navies operate carriers or are considering acquiring them. Indonesia, Thailand, possibly Australia. An Indian-designed carrier fighter at competitive prices could find export markets, especially if we offer technology transfer and local assembly options."
"Let's get through carrier trials first before we start counting export orders," Pillai said dryly.
"Agreed," Karan said. "But the production capacity we're building is designed with export potential in mind. If international orders materialize, we can handle them without disrupting Navy deliveries."
Ramanathan spoke up. "The Bombay facility — what's the workforce size?"
"Currently about eight hundred people in training," Karan said. "Ramps to approximately twelve hundred when we hit full production rate. Mix of experienced aerospace workers transferred from Gorakhpur and newly-hired local workers. The training program has been running since January."
"Where's the factory located specifically?" Mehta asked.
"Northern Bombay suburbs, near the existing aerospace industrial area," Karan said. "Adjacent to Juhu Aerodrome, which we're using for flight testing of newly-manufactured aircraft. The proximity to the naval base at Bombay makes logistics simpler — the Navy can take delivery directly without long-distance ferry flights."
"And major components?" Ramanathan asked. "Wings, fuselage sections?"
"Manufactured in Gorakhpur and shipped to Bombay for final assembly," Karan said. "The Gorakhpur facility has the precision manufacturing capability and aerospace tooling. Bombay does final assembly, systems integration, flight testing, and delivery. It's the same model we use for S-27 production, just distributed across two locations."
Captain Subramaniam stood.
"Gentlemen, I need to report to Naval Headquarters. Based on what I've seen today and the production timeline presented, I will recommend that the Navy proceed with final contract negotiations for the initial forty-eight aircraft order."
He looked at Karan.
"Assuming, of course, that the aircraft continues to perform well through the rest of the test program and actually makes it onto a carrier deck without killing anyone."
"It will," Karan said.
"We'll see," Subramaniam said. "But today was a very good start."
5 April 1973 — 11:00 Hours
Shergill Naval Aerospace, Bombay
The factory occupied sixty acres of industrial land in the northern Bombay suburbs, close enough to the coast that the salt smell of the Arabian Sea carried on the wind.
Karan stood in the main assembly hall — a massive structure 250 meters long and 80 meters wide, the ceiling height 20 meters to accommodate the overhead cranes that would move major components during assembly.
The hall was nearly complete. The structural steel was all in place, the roof was finished, the walls were up. Electrical systems were being installed, compressed air lines were being run, and the overhead cranes were in the process of being tested.
On the factory floor, assembly jigs were being positioned — the metal frameworks that would hold fuselage sections and wing components in precise alignment during assembly. Each jig was custom-designed for a specific part of the S-22 structure.
Aditya stood beside him with a clipboard, checking progress against the construction schedule.
"Seventy-two percent complete overall," Aditya said. "Main hall is ninety percent done. Equipment installation is sixty percent. Worker training is ongoing — currently eight hundred twelve people qualified, target is nine hundred for initial production."
"First aircraft components arrive when?" Karan asked.
"Wing sections from Gorakhpur are scheduled to arrive next week," Aditya said. "Fuselage sections the week after. We'll do a full assembly trial with these first components — build a complete aircraft to validate the assembly process and tooling before we start production runs."
"Timeline to first production aircraft?" Karan asked.
"If the trial assembly goes smoothly, first production aircraft starts assembly in August. Completion and flight testing in November. Delivery to the Navy in December."
"That's eight months," Karan said. "We told the Navy nine months."
"Buffer for problems," Aditya said. "If we hit the eight-month timeline, we deliver early. If we encounter issues, we still meet the commitment."
Karan nodded.
They walked through the assembly hall, past the areas where different stages of construction would happen: fuselage assembly, wing mating, systems installation, engine installation, final checkout.
At the far end of the hall, a separate section was set up for quality control — where completed aircraft would undergo detailed inspection before being moved to the flight test area.
"Quality control staff?" Karan asked.
"Sixty people dedicated to QC," Aditya said. "Headed by Raghav Deshmukh, transferred from Gorakhpur S-27 production. He ran QC there for two years. Every aircraft gets a full inspection before it leaves the factory."
They exited the main hall and walked to the adjacent building — smaller, but still substantial — that housed the component storage and sub-assembly areas.
Inside, workers were assembling sub-systems: hydraulic packages, electrical harnesses, fuel system components. These would be installed into the aircraft during final assembly.
"Workforce skill level?" Karan asked.
"Mixed," Aditya said. "About thirty percent are experienced aerospace workers from Gorakhpur. They're training the other seventy percent. The local hires are mostly from technical schools and engineering colleges in Bombay — good basic skills, learning aerospace-specific work."
"Any labor issues?" Karan asked. "Unions, political problems?"
"Nothing significant," Aditya said. "Shiv Sena has been supportive — they see this as bringing jobs to Maharashtra. We're paying competitive wages and conditions are good, so worker satisfaction is high. The only complaint we've heard is that some people want the factory to hire more local workers instead of transferring people from Gorakhpur."
"How many Gorakhpur transfers are there?" Karan asked.
"About two hundred forty out of eight hundred total," Aditya said. "Thirty percent. The rest are local hires."
"That's reasonable," Karan said. "We need the experienced people to establish the processes. As the local workers gain experience, the ratio will shift naturally."
They walked to the flight test area — a hangar adjacent to Juhu Aerodrome where newly-manufactured aircraft would undergo ground testing before their first flights.
The hangar was complete, equipped with engine test cells, hydraulic test rigs, and all the equipment needed to verify that a freshly-assembled aircraft was ready to fly.
"First production aircraft will do engine runs here," Aditya said. "Then taxi tests at Juhu. Then first flight. If everything checks out, it gets delivered to the Navy. The whole process from final assembly to delivery is about six weeks."
"Six weeks seems long," Karan said.
"It's thorough," Aditya said. "We're not rushing aircraft out the door with problems. Every system gets tested, every component gets verified. The Navy is getting aircraft that work reliably, not aircraft that need fixing immediately after delivery."
Karan nodded. That was the right approach — better to take the time to deliver quality than to rush and deliver problems.
They walked back toward the administrative building.
"Overall assessment?" Karan asked.
"We're on track," Aditya said. "Construction is ahead of schedule in some areas, on schedule in others. Workforce training is progressing well. Equipment installation is on target. Barring major problems, we'll deliver the first aircraft to the Navy in December as promised."
"And production ramp?"
"Three per month starting December, ramping to four per month by June next year. That's thirty-six per year initially, forty-eight per year once we're at full rate. Navy's forty-eight aircraft delivered by late 1974."
"Good," Karan said.
They reached the administrative building, where the factory's management team had offices. Karan had scheduled a meeting with the production manager and quality control head to review detailed timelines.
But before going inside, he looked back at the factory complex.
In eight months, S-22 Makara fighters would be rolling out of that assembly hall. The Navy would finally have a domestically-designed and domestically-built carrier fighter.
The prototype had flown successfully two days ago. Production capability was being built. The timeline was realistic and achievable.
Everything was proceeding as it should.
End of Chapter 113