Authors: Mark Howard
As Star explained all this, she kept slowing the ship to a stop, then speeding off again in a slightly different direction each time. Jess was curious about this, but waited until she was done talking so as not to interrupt her train of thought.
"So what's up with the course corrections?"
"Well, this isn't really a leisurely stroll here; since we're in daylight, time is of the essence. So each leg is a quick hop. But before I can commit to the leg, I need to ensure the way is clear, so to speak. Don't want to sneak up on some unsuspecting Lear jet or Piper Cub, much less a 727, right? There's a hell of a lot of air traffic during daylight hours that we need to account for. So we send out a radar signal, the ship computes trajectories for all objects within range of our intended course, and if it's all clear she'll go. Now, the government ships can do this dynamically without human intervention, but since we're off the grid, I need to do it manually. It's a big pain in the ass if you ask me, which is mostly why we don't go out during the day."
"So wait, this grid, is this the ELF network you were telling me about, Sag?"
"Yeah, same one," he replied, then turned to Star. "I told her about the fleet management aspects of it."
"Yeah, the grid is another thorn in our sides, environmentally speaking. You tell her the backstory behind it?"
"Nope," Sag replied. "But go right ahead."
"Well back in the 80's and 90's they were deploying this worldwide ELF communication infrastructure, basically the biggest, baddest radio station in the world, without telling anyone. It used a grid of antennas blasting out these longwave radio signals into the ground, and who cares what it was doing to the livestock, much less the humans, that lived near all this stuff. So the government finally admitted it was for nuclear submarine communication, but they still had to scale it back significantly due to the heat they were getting. They shut it down, mostly, but it still exists, like Sag said, for minimal data bursts of fleet management stuff and clearpath confirmations now. Wish we could hack into it — make our lives a little easier! But of course, if we did, Big Mama would probably get bricked pretty quickly."
"Yeah," Sag continued, "they never got a response to their kill command back when we took her, since we had shut the receiving equipment down first thing, but they still send the command every few days just in case we forget and turn it back on."
"How do you know this?" Jess asked.
"Oh, because I record the ELF channel and I can pick out that little warble — it's different from all the other comms I hear."
"Flight attendant," Star announced, looking at Sag, "prepare for arrival."
Jess noticed the cloud starting to form again outside the bottom window, but realized it was just Sag retracting the camera mast. Then the mist dissipated fully as a stand of pine trees came into view beneath them.
"Just a quick stop first to get her topped off," Star explained as she navigated to tree-top level and stopped over a small clearing containing a pond. As she lowered the ship to just a few feet over it, Jess noticed the water below remained as smooth as glass.
"Why don't the thrusters disturb the water?"
"They're vectored at an angle," Sag explained, "and highly diffused, to avoid any big downdrafts. It ain't like a rocket. It's part of the stealth; when you hit people with a blast of air they tend to look up."
Sag managed the intake tube for a few minutes before reporting back.
"OK, we're topped off."
The ship rose, and they took off above the treetops, speeding over open fields and then miles of arroyos. Several minutes later they began to descend, and Star announced their arrival as she halted the ship a few feet above the ground.
"Grab your packs and water," she said as the thrusters cycled down, "and watch your feet."
With a
thunk,
all three hatches shot open and small swirls of red dust entered the cabin. Sag was the first to descend, and after reaching the ground, he ran over to assist Jess. Star was last, dropping to the red earth below with a thud. As they walked out from under from the ship, a blast of warm air hit their bodies, like that from a high-speed hand dryer.
"And
that's
why you want to stay a minimum fifty or so feet above anything in these Gen II's," Sag explained, referring to the draft from the thrusters, "if you want to remain undetected."
"So we're just going to leave it here, hatches open, in the middle of nowhere?" Jess asked. As if in answer, they heard the thunk of the ship's three hatches closing behind them.
"The lower it is, the less people are able to see it, so yeah," Star replied, "but don't worry, she'll be just fine."
They headed out over the arroyos, with the late morning Texas sun beating down on them. After forty-five minutes, they came to a dirt road that led to a small town in the distance, and after a few minutes walk down that road, an old pock-marked sign welcomed them to LeMar, Texas.
"The founders must have had some sense of humor," Jess commented, however they didn't seem to get her meaning.
"Le Mar — the sea. This is pretty much the opposite of a sea," she explained, as they looked at her crosswise. "Oh forget it," she added, finally provoking a laugh.
Star led the way down the main thoroughfare of the rusty old town. As they came upon an old building containing a cafe, Star had them stash their gear along the side, behind a doghouse — complete with an old, snoring Great Dane.
Walking around to the front, Sag opened the screen door with a creak, and after allowing the ladies passage, let it slam shut behind them.
~ 57 ~
J
ulio pedaled as fast as he could, swinging the bike wildly from side to side. Catching some good air on the small dirt mound, he lifted his feet and twirled the bike underneath him. Aaron and Dominick, watching from the sidelines, both gave him thumbs down as he landed and skidded to a stop.
"You got to do three, man, at least," Dominick commented, shaking his head.
"Yeah, can't get the speed. Let's head down some more," Julio replied, pedaling away. "There's a big one my brother used last year down this way," he yelled back to them.
His two friends followed as they pedalled up and down the gravelly arroyos, catching a few inches of air at each apex. Reaching the larger hill a few minutes later, they easily found the well worn-trail. Starting at the top of a medium-sized mound, it mainlined straight down, then up to the apex of the larger hill for the jump. The trickiest part would be navigating the rocks embedded in the slot on the way down.
"I'ma do this one," Aaron declared, walking his bike up the steep slope of the send-off hill. The others pedaled off to the side and perched on a small rise to get a good view. Aaron found his launch spot and took a breath. As he steadied himself in the slot, it seemed much higher than he originally thought, but there was no chance he was going to back out now, with everybody in position. It would be worse to back down than to wreck and bust a leg — at least then he would still have his pride, and a story to go along with it. He had to go big, and to go now, before his friends sensed his hesitation, otherwise they would be merciless.
With a final deep breath, he pushed off and slotted the wheel in the rut. He risked a spill if he navigated left or right, so he had to take the rocks jutting up from the rut head on as he pedaled furiously. With relief, he found the bottom, and pedaled even harder on the upslope, gaining more momentum. The hesitation was gone now.
Reaching the top, his friends watched him swing his legs back and up, but instead of putting one foot back down to spin the crossbar of the bike, he seemed to freeze in mid-air, and swan-dived hard straight down, below their line of sight.
"Oh shit!" they yelled, speeding off towards where they saw him disappear. Cresting the hill they could see him lying on the brushy slope, struggling to remove the bike from on top of him. The fact that he was moving, and not screaming in pain, was their cue to begin laughing hysterically.
"What the fuck, dude!" Dominick yelled to him between laughs, "You dropped like a turkey!"
Untangling himself, Aaron mounted the bike across his shoulders and slowly climbed towards them. He had some bloody scratches on his arms and legs but otherwise looked OK. Strange thing was, he didn't even look pissed, he just kept slowly making his way to them. By the time he reached them, they had stopped laughing.
"You had the ramp, but you need a little work on the air, muchacho," Julio chided, expecting a reaction that didn't come. Aaron just stared at them, while pointing off into the distance.
That's when they saw it.
~ 58 ~
T
he reaction they got to their entrance was stereotypically comical: the handful of older, weatherbeaten farmers and ranch hands all stopped mid-conversation to stare at the three strangers as they stood in the doorway. Without missing a beat, Star headed towards a booth near the back while calling out to a waitress.
"Mornin' Marilyn, can we get a couple cups'a coffee, black, please, hun?"
"Coming right up, and good to see you again sweetie!"
At least the waitress gave her a smile, Jess noticed, unlike the patrons.
Sidling into a booth, they sat in silence as the clinking of flatware and muffled conversations slowly resumed. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, the pull cord oscillating in a slow oval, as a fly landed on the peeling Formica table before them. After sampling several areas of the table and finding no prize of crusty syrup or dried butter, he sped off to continue his search elsewhere.
Marilyn appeared with the coffee, and as she poured, she made a point to smile at Jess, indicating she knew Jess was the new one at the table. She didn't say anything, though.
"Y'all gonna be eatin' today, folks?"
"Ayup," Star replied, "but we got a fourth should be along any minute now, so we'll hold off, thanks."
Marilyn twirled away with a wink, just as the screen door opened again and a rotund, balding man entered. Dressed in coveralls and steel-toed black work shoes, he noticed them and slowly shuffled to their table. Sag stood up, allowing the man to slide slowly into the booth, his hands levitating in the air over the table as if to steady himself. After internally verifying that he was indeed seated solidly, he reached behind him, and removing a handkerchief from his back pocket, mopped the beads of sweat from the top of his head. He then carefully took the side of his right hand and coaxed the last few precious strands of hair across his shiny dome. All this he did with the precision of a watchmaker, and when finished, he methodically cleaned his hands with a napkin. After sitting quietly for a moment, he appeared to suddenly realize he had left something undone, and reached his hand out towards Jess with a welcoming smile.
"And who'da thunk
El Libertador
would be a little miss. Hiya, I'm Norfolk. Call me Noly," he offered, freezing his hand in midair and shifting his gaze to Star, "unless this is perhaps a sister of yours I don't know about?"
Star laughed gruffly, in such a way that Jess immediately knew why this had to be a face-to-face meeting and not a simple phone call.
"Jessica, but I go by Jess," she said, taking his hand and bowing her head slightly.
Noly, still holding onto her hand, pulled her in towards him. "Now I hope you understand what you've gotten yourself into with these jokers," he whispered conspiratorially. "Thieves, they are, ever' last one. But I can tell — you're a cute young thing all right — but still, I can tell — you got a bit of the pirate in you as well. The fire, 'tis."
With a wink, he slowly withdrew his hand and leaned back in his seat, smoothing the non-existent tablecloth before him. Sag and Star sat silently grinning as they watched the show; they had seen Noly perform before and were clearly relishing it.
"Is she here?" Noly asked Star expectantly.
"Are you kidding me? We took Scout."
"Ach, maybe next time," Noly said, looking crestfallen, as though this was a middle school dance and his crush hadn't showed.
Jess noted again the slightly disturbing way that he, too, regarded these ships as more than just machines. Boats and cars are commonly referred to as women, she knew that much, but this was something...different.
Noly perked up as Marilyn returned to take their order. Pie with coffee was the popular choice, and Jess went with their recommendation of a slice of blueberry crumble along with the coffee, black.
When Marilyn had gone, Noly slammed a hand on the table, jiggling the flatware. "Now! How can I ruin my life's work for you today?" His mood lightened, which seemed to be the cue that the show was over, and the audience could now speak.
"Well, we understand you might have a number for us," Star said.
"I do. Indeed I do. Problem is, it's all I have. No Lat/Long."
"True. But we have
her
now," Star responded, grabbing Jess by the shoulders. "Number Seven."
Noly raised his eyebrows at her in genuine surprise. "Well, well, well. A
very
interesting situational development." After a moment, they furrowed again as he dismissed whatever idea had been brewing.
"Even so, they're collapsing 'em," he stated matter-of-factly. "This breach was a big, big deal. Bigger than the Big Mama heist. All the facilities out east have been transferring 'em to the western states. This one's already been moved out west to make room for the new arrivals. No more above-ground storage, for anything — new policy. By the way, they have no flippin' clue how this one was done. None. They are batshit insane about this thing."
~ 59 ~
N
one of them said anything for the longest time. They just stared, trying to make out what it was. It was only about three hundred yards away, this dark, black, thing that just sat silently over the rocky soil. A hazy heat shimmer left the edges undefined, but the center was clear enough. It looked cigar-shaped from the side, but from their angle above it, they could just make out that it was actually triangular.
"What da fuck is that, bro?" Julio said slowly. After he had broken the silence, Aaron pushed forward, propelling his bike down the hill towards the object. The others, as they now had to, followed.