by Chucho Jones
Leon pulled the chords on what he thought was a chute. Thrusters managed to break his spherical vehicle on the ground, but he knew he wasn’t on the clear. Millions of metallic shards from the scrap yard where heading towards the building.
Debris shot a hole through his cockpit, and he fell fast through the trees. He knew he had to leap out of his cockpit before it would was sucked into the building’s core along with everything else.
He hit the ground and kept low. All his limbs where pulsating from the pain, but he had no time to think. He crawled out of danger and headed to the hangar. He hustled inside and saw a few young pilots gathered in the corner of the old hangar room. Some of the kids where badly injured, but he was happy to see they had survived the fall.
“Alright everyone, I’m glad you’re all ok. Let’s help the wounded towards the center of the room please, and hang tight,” he said with a certain presence.
Leon pulled the lever to activate the round freight. The familiar caution lights dim lit the room. He got in the middle of the platform with the rest of his crew all of them sitting on the ground tired and bruised.
Leon was exhausted. The overwhelming feelings were slowing down and the pain and strain from the fight took over. He rested for a little. A kid from the group looked him in the eye.
“Thank you for bringing us home S-Wing leader,” the kid said, smiling.
Leon smiled back.
“Don’t sweat it, kid,” he replied.
The humming sound relaxed everyone as they freighted down.
18
Chapter 18
The caution light blinked closer and closer as the transport came to a halt. The tired fighters got off, looking as heroic as any brave warrior could given the circumstances.
Leon walked towards Oliver. He looked at his uncle in a new light, a man of action to aspire to. “Great flying out there, ‘Captain Thunderbolt’,” the kid said in a sarcastic tone.
“Ah, it was nothing I never trained for,” Leon answered in the same tone.
“Ready to go to space, since you graduated flight school?” he asked.
Oliver noticed the worrisome look on his uncle’s face, and he wondered why he wasn’t excited to discover the unknown. Like Oliver, Leon had overcome a lifelong fear in just a few moments. Oliver was beginning to think that keeping a positive attitude might be the right way to stay on track.
“I could use a breather, kid. Did you see what just happened out there?” Leon replied while trying to regain his strength.
They walked through the hallways and into and elevator that took them to a prep room. General Banks was waiting for them inside. He was wearing a form-fitting yellow space suit that had a hydraulic rig on his bad leg. Oliver noticed the general looked like something out of the ‘Bald Eagle’ comics.
“Are these our space suits?” Oliver asked in awe.
He looked around and saw a red suit and a smaller blue suit being arranged by engineers. General Banks stood without limping and walked naturally towards Oliver.
“That’s right boy. Lucky for us we had a prototype child space suit,” the general said.
Oliver looked at his suit and realized there had always been a plan for a skilled young pilot to go to space. He looked at Leon, realizing a bit of his mysterious past. He didn’t seem to pay attention to what was going on. He just moved on to getting his suit and gear, as if trying to pass the moment by, or so he thought.
Leon stood in front of his suit. He then saw the general’s contraption on his leg.
“Your suit has a hydraulic knee, right? It helps you walk normal,” he said to the general.
“That’s right. Brand new prototype,” Banks answered.
Oliver thought of Leon as a stranger in that moment. It seemed odd for him to know about such things, but it seemed that he had seen more than he claimed he did in his younger years.
Oliver felt relief that he could count on some sort of life mentor since his uncle had a stressful life around secret facilities. Oliver and Leon got in gear, and Doctor Dicken’s came in to walk the crew to the rocket.
The rocket stood magnificent and tall as the crew approached the launch pad’s freight. The engines where being loaded with a great quantity of stale vitro-plasma. They rose to the cockpit and boarded. Oliver’s heart pounded with excitement, a rushing feeling overcoming him as he took his chair right in front of the Vitro-plasma slot.
The crew got into position. Oliver raised his arm and inserted it in the slot. The ships consoles lit up like a Christmas tree, and the engines rumbled. A speaker echoed Doctor Dicken’s voice in the cockpit.
“All right, everyone in position. Oliver on your mark, set engines and prepare for takeoff,” Dickens said over the radio.
Oliver twisted his arm, he could feel the stale vitro-plasma energizing while running through his symbiotic arm and body. A rumbling vibration got stronger with each beat of the doctor’s voice.
“Five… four… three… two…one,” the doctor’s voice resounded through the rumbled noise. “Prepare for blast off.”
The boy looked around the cockpit, over at the general. The man had a determination. He then looked at Leon, seeming a bit nervous with a ponderous yet accomplished expression.
Oliver took a deep breath. He thought of everything that had happened at that point. His uncle’s rebellious uprising, his frail condition, the abduction of both his mother and loving friend Victoria.
He thought of all the things that happened, and for a brief moment it overwhelmed him. As the rocket left the ground, he took another deep breath. The suave jazzy music of Louis Jordan played over the radio to the tune of ‘Let the Good Times Roll’.
Oliver and the general both looked at Leon. He had tinkered with the controls of the console next to his station.
“Come on, General. We need a little soul for this trip, don’t you agree?” Leon asked with a confident smirk.
The general remained stout and replied. “Right on.”
Oliver held tight to his chair and took a breath once more to the soothing tune. A warm feeling overcame him. He felt the Vitro-plasma run through his body alluding to one thought: he was in control of it all.
19
Chapter 19
The cool breeze of dawn blew away the smoke of the battle. Amidst the lake shore by the edge of the fridge factory, three figures stood among the alien rubble and battle debris, proud to be alive.
Commander McCoy tended to his son, Dave, as Trevor, the janitor, carried a first-aid kid to help the wounded fighters. The smooth morning tones were quickly replaced by the flash of a rocket launch as Steve McCoy finished putting bandages over his son’s wounds. The commander and the boys stood in wonder at the sight of a dense smoke trail left by the rocket in the cool morning sky as the man-made marvel arrowed towards the stars.
* * *
The crisp tune of “Let the Good Times Roll” echoed off the dimly lit walls of Underground Alpha’s control room.
Every engineer that had worked on getting Tomorrow Sky ready for launch manned the computers, making sure everything went according to schedule. Doctor Dickens stood in the main station leading mission control.
The music torpedoed in his eardrums creating a revolving sensation inside his stomach. How can anyone be so cavalier in such a scenario as this? he thought to himself. The music began to crackle as the tube screens in front of him read an increase in altitude for Tomorrow Sky as it neared the speeds needed to break the sound barrier.
“Tomorrow Sky’s three main Nucleo-Tesla engines have settled to about sixty-three percent capacity. All readings appear nominal. Minimal stress for the shuttle as we break Mach One,” the general’s raspy voice rattled over the radio.
The good doctor’s stomach felt at ease. It was a sensation all too familiar to him as he regularly executed numerous risky experiments—experiments that would put mankind’s greatest challenges to the test, though he always kept a vigilant mind on his work.
“Roger. Tom
orrow Sky, Oliver will need to provide a Vitro-plasma reading at all times once you reach three hundred thousand feet,” the doctor said. He looked to the monitors as the analog dials from the computer’s console confirmed Tomorrow Sky breaking the sound barrier.
“Roger, ground control,” said Oliver in a jarring tone over the radio.
“Guiding systems converging, aiming the shuttle to its precise target in space,” confirmed the general in a firm tone.
The music began to crackle. Doctor Dickens was eager to find out one of two things: Tomorrow Sky’s Teslatron engine would kick in to maintain course once the Nucleo-Tesla rockets deplete, or Oliver’s symbiotic technology would overpower the Vitro-Plasma and blow the Teslatron engine once the rocket hit three G’s.
Risky experiment.
“Fifty-two miles altitude. Standing by for Nucleo-Tesla separation,” the general said over the radio.
Doctor Dickens monitored the rocket’s behavior as it hit the dreaded mark. The monitor readings confirmed Tomorrow Sky had pushed over the three G’s and gained an altitude of over three hundred thousand feet, then all the readings cut out—as expected. Promptly he reached out for the radio controls once more.
“Tomorrow Sky, do you copy? What’s your Vitro-Plasma reading? Over,” said the doctor nervously.
Sweat began to drip down the back of his neck and forehead as each passing second stalled a reply. The tone of the music was quickly replaced by static.
They are forever lost in space…
The thought crossed Doctor Dicken’s mind, but was quickly interrupted by a crackling sound through the radio.
“Teslatron Engines humming along with the Geo-Thermal auxiliary units and three power-producing, Vitro-Plasma chambers,” confirmed the general.
“Vitro-Plasma chambers at a hundred percent, energy stable. Over,” Oliver said with a fainting breath as the radio communication stopped abruptly.
The doctor tried to confirm communication with Oliver as the radio static came and went, in and out of frequency. A sudden jolt of energy created a complete black out.
For a few seconds, the doctor’s credibility came to a halt. He thought deeply about his work up to that pointall the achievements, all the sacrifices. He thought of his family’s legacy and the responsibility to account for centuries of work to advance civilization.
For a brief moment, he realized why it wasn’t him up there. There was too much risk for a man with so much knowledge about the alien’s silicone-based foundation and its co-relation with Vitro-Plasma. The work must always continue, he thought.
The systems came back online in an unnatural way. Strong static came in and out.
“Mayday, mayday. We had a system malfunction, and we can’t get a fix on the shuttle’s precise target. My crew is unconscious from the G forces. Mayday I request ground control backup. I’m switching to geo-thermal auxiliary power. Over,” the general’s raspy voice rang out with almost unnoticeable nervousness.
Doctor Dickens thought often about the mystery that is Vitro-Plasma. He realized that the overpowering explosion could have been the result of the fluid combined with the alien symbiote. He then had a full realization of Oliver’s philosophy about Vitro-Plasma. ‘The Silicone-Carbon paradox.’ If the alien arm was capable of such a manifestation of power, the answers could lie in the glowing orb Laura found on the moon.
The idea struck like lightning in his brain. He put his mind back to his work and found comfort in believing—at that moment—those events were meant to exist. Results.
20
Chapter 20
Oliver tried to find solace in the events that led him to the space launch. It was inevitable for him to feel the power of the Vitro-Plasma running through his body. It was such a rush that it overcame his thoughts with confidence and joy. Nothing can go wrong now. We’re on our way to save Victoria and my mother, he thought in his young and naïve mind
He felt the ship’s thrust as the pink fluid ran through his body, the rush became so much that he felt his stomach fluids rising. He mustered all his might to stop that situation from happening as he knew whatever fluids came out could immediately become a messy, floating hazard inside his helmet.
This created a chain reaction that resulted in his symbiotic arm releasing the energy rush from all the pink fluid.
For a millisecond, he thought about his theory. The breakdown of silicone atoms to carbon molecules and the consequence of the remaining atoms from the nuclear fusion to create the element. The reaction of such events happening in rapid succession millions of times was ‘The Silicone-Carbon paradox’. Oliver suddenly fainted as he felt a jolt just before a streak of white light overcame his sight.
* * *
The jazzy sounds that soothed Leon’s thoughts promptly turned into crackling shrieks that resonated throughout the cockpit. Everything had happened so fast. He felt strapped to his ‘one-way ticket out’.
He tried to keep his mind off the fact that he was on a journey to leave the planet and things were not going according to plan. A possibility he ran away from since he was a child. It was now the time to confront his fear.
I can go the distance, I got this, he thought to himself as he went in and out of consciousness due to the shuttle pressure.
A crackling sound around the cockpit distracted him from his thoughts. He opened his heavy eyes to look out the window. The morning sky turned darker as they approached the thermosphere.
General Banks exchanged information about the launch to ground control when suddenly the pressure became stronger. Leon felt his stomach go hollow. His head felt lighter, and it became increasingly difficult to focus. The shrieking sounds were turned into muffled noises for an instant.
He struggled to make sense of the moment, and then he saw Oliver faint. Before losing consciousness, he saw a bright white light coming from Oliver’s control panel emanating throughout the cockpit.
BOOM!
A loud boom followed by an alarming sound didn’t allow Leon to fall faint. He struggled but managed to stay awake. The energy blast gave him such a rush it cleared his thoughts and put him back on track.
He looked around and saw Oliver unconscious. The panel’s switches and screens were flashing on and off, completely out of control. He looked over at the general and feared the worst—being the only crew member awake. To his fortune, Banks was awake and held the controls tight.
Leon quickly realized the man in front of him had seen his share of danger and peril. He figured the general, too, would pull through all of this.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Maybe the G’s were too much for the kid. He sure fried most of the auto-systems. Hold on,” the general struggled to say through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Still, Leon felt reassured by the general’s demeanor. He wanted to give the same encouragement to Oliver.
“Hey, Spectacles. WAKE UP! You need to feed the ship with the pink goo. Come on kid. WAKE UP!” he yelled at Oliver to no avail.
He looked out the window and saw the thin atmosphere of the planet going beneath them. The alarming sounds began to silence, and the ship began to stabilize. The general remained stout at his post as he maneuvered the vessel. He grinned in pride and addressed the crew.
“Seventy-nine miles altitude traveling at over seventeen thousand miles per hour. Teslatron engine is humming along with the geo-thermal auxiliary units. Power-producing Vitro-Plasma chambers at full capacity. We lost our guidance systems.
He checked controls and looked over a few gauges before speaking again. “Aiming the shuttle for our precise target is less than forty percent optimal. There was an energy blast in the cabin. It overpowered the vessels capacitors and created a power surge that disrupted the auto controls. Switching to manual,” the general responded promptly through the radio.
Oliver remained knocked out. The general’s screens had all sorts of alert messages lighting up. Leon realized the situation was not in total control. Something was off. But he didn’t
have to wonder for long—the general gave his order.
“Leon, you will have to do a spacewalk. I need you to manually hook Tomorrow Sky to the Vitro-Plasma chambers from outside. You can do this. It’s like the water tanks from when you were a kid,” he firmly said to Leon as if trying to build up his confidence, ignoring his fear of flight once more.
“WHAT?” Leon yelled in response to the general’s order. “Are you crazy? Did you even listen to yourself? We’re traveling at over seventeen thousand miles an hour, and you want me to swing out there like a space grease monkey and fix your ride? Can’t we do it from the inside? Why don’t you go out and do it?”
The general then turned back to his controls and responded. “Listen, Oliver is out of commission, and I had to turn to manual piloting. I’m the only one in this cockpit qualified to operate this unit. I need the Vitro-Plasma canisters to run the Teslatron engine, and I need a fast mechanic. Otherwise, we’ll be floating out of orbit with no way back,” the general said matter-of-factly.
Leon had no choice but to comply with the order as it was either risking his life out there or getting lost in space forever.
“Ok, General. I get it. What do I do?” he replied with no arguments in mind. The idea of being out in the dark void of space made him feel extremely vulnerable, but they must survive.
The general pointed at a jetpack with assorted tools attached to it. Leon unlatched from his unit and struggled to make his way towards the end of the cabin. He latched his suit to the jetpack.
The general seemed pleased at how swiftly Leon was taking action, which made Leon feel reassured. As soon as he was ready, he displayed no hesitation and moved towards the release chamber. He touched a few controls from his chest panel.