Learning To Fly

by DeMaris, Charles

  Owens took the item and looked it over, shaking his head.

  “Where did you find that?”

  “Stuck to the outside, just behind the wing.”

  “That definitely doesn’t belong there.”

  A few seconds later, the engines shut down and Brett Egan walked back from the cockpit.

  “We got control again. Looks like that thing was letting someone else hack us.”

  “Sorry guys, gotta take this,” Walter said, pulling out his ringing phone.

  “Yeah, Larry, what’s up?”

  “Man am I glad you answered. You seen the news?”

  “Uh…no…I’ve been otherwise occupied.”

  “Heading to Chicago?”

  “Well, I was, until I spotted a plane in a nose dive. They’re all okay, by the way. Put it down in a cornfield, somewhere in Indiana.”

  “There are two more. Someone has control of them.”

  “That would explain the device I found on the outside of the plane. The pilot has it now.”

  “I can brief you on that later. You think you can do something about the other two planes?”

  “Where are they headed?”

  “One’s headed to Florida and the other to Dallas. The Florida plane is nearing Tennessee.”

  “Does it look like either are in danger?”

  “Not at the moment. The pilots don’t have control, but both planes are still on course…wait a sec…the southbound plane just went into a dive.”

  “I’m headed that way.”

  Walter addressed Egan, “Hey, gotta go. More planes in trouble. You’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah, just go.”

  15

  Walter flew south as fast as he could, looking ahead for the plane. He was almost to the Tennessee border, when he spotted the plane in a steep dive. He could already hear the passengers, some praying and some screaming. He dove toward it as fast as he could, but he was still five hundred feet away when the plane dove nose first into the ground and erupted into a fireball. He pulled up and hovered over the scene, looking in vain for any signs of life.

  He went into the trees, pulled out his phone, and dialed Wilkins.

  “Yeah, Walter.”

  “Too late, I was too late.”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You did what you could.”

  “I was too freaking late, Larry. I was almost there…saw it hit…it’s bad.”

  “Look, Walter, there’s still one left, and it’s still flying steady. There’s nothing more you can do there.”

  “Larry…I’ve…never…never seen anything like this before.”

  “I know, but there’s another one out there, and you’re the only one who can do anything about it.”

  “I hear you. Where is it?”

  “Probably not far from you. Heading west over Tennessee, heading toward Texas.”

  “Okay, Larry. I’m on the way.”

  Less than a minute later, Walter found the west bound airliner cruising at 35000 feet. He approached from below, flew along the left side of the plane, and there behind the wing, in the same place it had been on the first plane, was the small projectile. He looked in the cockpit and saw what he had seen earlier, two pilots who had no control over anything. He went back behind the wing and removed the projectile and crushed it in his hand. He went back up front and looked into the cockpit. One of the pilots saw him, smiled, and gave him a thumbs up.

  Five minutes after that, Walter was walking into the District 1 Police Station.

  “Hey, you got here fast,” Wilkins said when he saw Walter, “You want to sit down for a bit?”

  “Yeah, I need to.”

  Wilkins pulled a chair up next to his desk and motioned for Walter to sit down.

  “You want a Coke or something?”

  “What I could really use is a beer, but I don’t expect you have any around here.”

  “I was about to have one at the house, before this happened.”

  “You don’t suppose we could talk there, do you?”

  “Can’t see why not. I’m not really on duty now, anyway.”

  “Hop in your car and hold on.”

  Five minutes later they were in the back yard and Larry had fired up the grill.

  “You didn’t have to light that just on my account,” Walter said.

  “I was using it earlier, and maybe you could use a bite. How do you like your steak?”

  “Medium well, thank you.”

  “Maybe I should bring you up to speed. You heard about the semi trailer that was stolen the night you grabbed that fake bomb?”

  “Yeah, what was in it?”

  “The devices that you found on the planes. I have a friend up at Wright-Patt. He confirmed what was in the truck.”

  “Let me get this right. Someone attaches that thing to a plane and then it can be controlled remotely?”

  “That’s the idea. Not just planes. Anything it attaches to can be controlled.”

  “That definitely could cause problems. How’d they get it on the planes?”

  “There’s a launcher, about the size of a rifle. Get a target lock and you can hit a target up to five miles away.”

  “There are places you can see the runways. Wouldn’t be hard to hang out and hit planes taking off.”

  “That’s what we think happened. The first one was luck. You happened to be heading the same direction. What about that show you were heading up to, anyway?”

  “They saw the news, figured I was involved, and re-scheduled.”

  “Whoever did this is seriously twisted. Said it was a demonstration of their capabilities and we would do well do give in to any future demands.”

  “You’re telling me there were no demands, that this was just a demonstration?” Walter clenched his fist so fast he crushed the beer can and squirted the beer into the yard.

  “Let me get you another. That’s pretty much it. No demands, like this was just a warning that we should obey when the demands start coming.”

  “What kind of sick bastard crashes a plane full of people just to make a point? I can still hear the screams. I heard them right before it went down, women, kids, grown men crying for their mothers…dude…I’m never getting that sound out of my head. One second I can hear them, the next they’re gone. If I would have gotten there a few seconds sooner…”

  “You can’t blame yourself. You did the best you could. I think they were going to take one down either way. You said the first plane was diving, and you stopped it.”

  “Yeah, it was going straight down. I didn’t know I was that strong. How many people were on the one that went down?”

  “328.”

  “Oh Lord…”

  “Listen Walter, that wasn’t your fault. There are almost six hundred other people who are alive now because of you. Sure, those three hundred are dead, but that’s not on you. You can’t be in three places at once.”

  “No, but we can keep a sharp eye out for any more of these kinds of things, and I know what the device looks like. Is there any way to counter these things?”

  “Not that we’re aware of. I’m going to talk to Stan later—”

  “Stan?”

  “My friend in Dayton. Colonel Stan Gordon. He’s got people working on it, and he’s contacting the contractor that made the damn things. Hopefully we’ll come up with something.”

  “In the meantime, maybe I’ll fly lower and try to keep in cell range.”

  Catherine Mixon watched the video feed of the diving jet until the view was filled by the rapidly approaching ground and then went blank when the plane crashed.

  “That should send just the message we want,” she said, turning her attention to the other monitor.

  “It will certainly get their attention,” Trent Salazar said.

  “Will it? Maybe we should take the other one down too.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Maybe I should make another comment, to assure everyone that we m
ean business.”

  “Uh…maybe you want to hold off on that.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I think our friend is at the last plane…yep…just lost control. He found the device.”

  “Well, I’ll hold off on another address for now. Is our man in place for the next phase?”

  “In place and awaiting orders.”

  “Okay, tell him to hold on for now. Losing this last one is most unfortunate, but still, we know the system works. We just have to account for Walter in our plans. Thankfully there’s only one of him.”

  Mixon was suddenly startled by the sound of clapping behind her. She turned to see a handsome middle aged white man standing there clapping his hands.

  “Bravo,” the man exclaimed, “Might I congratulate you on the senseless killing of 328 souls. You should be so proud.”

  “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

  “All in good time, my dear. So, you know how to take lives? But can you take them when it matters, when it actually accomplishes something?”

  “I can take them when I need to, like right now,” Mixon said, drawing her pistol and firing at the intruder’s head.

  The bullet stopped about six inches in front of his face and hovered in the air. He reached out his hand and took it between his thumb and forefinger, turning it back and forth to inspect it, and then set it down on the edge of Mixon’s desk.

  “Such a quaint little device. It’s amazing how many of your people manage to get killed by it. Now, where were we?”

  “You were about to tell me who you are and how you managed to get in here.”

  “My dear, you don’t seem to be in much of a position to make demands at the moment.”

  “These doors are locked and you just show up out of nowhere, I’d like to know how you managed that.”

  “I’d like to know what you thought to accomplish by killing 328 innocent souls.”

  “Leverage.”

  “Leverage? You really are a pathetic creature. What leverage do you want? What power do you seek? You know nothing of real power. You seek to increase your material position by defrauding your fellow humans, by peddling intoxicating substances that keep them dependent on your suppliers. What kind of power is that? What kind of influence is that? You’re pitiful.”

  Salazar fired off three shots from his pistol and all three bullets stopped in the air, to be picked up and set down by the intruder.

  “Nice try. You’re fortunate I am a forgiving man. I wouldn’t advise trying that again, if you know what’s best. Now, Ms. Mixon, what do you really know of real power?”

  “I have real power. I have people who do what I wish—”

  “Because you threaten their lives. Come on, you know nothing.”

  “What do you know of power, other than your impressive tricks with the bullets?”

  “I can teach you of power you can never imagine. Not the power you think you have, but real power, the power to hold an entire planet in your hands, to control the lives of billions. That’s power, not whatever you think you have amassed in your trifling existence. I can give you such power, and I can take it away.”

  “Why would you want to give me that kind of power?”

  “Because someone else has already done it. Such power needs to be balanced. Allowing it to remain in the hands of one, unchallenged, is not healthy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on, I know you’re familiar with the one you call Walter.”

  “Oh, him. Of course I’m familiar with him. He’s starting to become a thorn in my side.”

  “And if he is left unchecked, he can become much more. One person having all that power is not good.”

  “Are you saying you know how Walter got his power?”

  “I know how, and I know who.”

  “Someone gave him that power?”

  “Someone I know all too well. Of course Walter doesn’t know anything. He just woke up with it. Why he thought to come here and bestow such abilities on such a man, I’ll never know, but I need to counter his actions, and the sooner the better.”

  “And you think I can—”

  “You’re not the best candidate by any means, but you just might be the right one. I need someone who won’t back down, someone who can take the fight to Walter if it comes to that.”

  “And what do you get out of this? There has to be a catch.”

  “All in good time, love. I need to know if you’re with me.”

  “I don’t even know who you are.”

  “I am the one who can give you more power than you ever imagined you could ever wield, but I can make you better than Walter.”

  “How could you do that?”

  “Walter has had no training. I’m not sure he even knows the extent of his power yet. I can teach you everything. You will have an advantage.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “All the reasons might be beyond your feeble ability to grasp. Let’s just say that my rival has empowered someone and he may have more of an agenda. I need someone on my side, to counter that agenda, someone I can rely on if it comes to that.”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Just stand still and look this way. The light may be a bit bright, but the headache won’t last long.”

  16

  Walter took a beer from the fridge, put his phone on the charger, and sat down in his recliner, not even bothering to turn on the TV. The day had been an emotional roller coaster, and the last thing he wanted to see was the coverage of the plane crash. He was still beating himself up over not getting there fast enough. Sure, he had managed to save the other two, but he couldn’t shake the image from his mind of that plane diving into the ground, and he knew he would never forget the screams of the passengers right before impact.

  Three beers later he wished his super metabolism would allow him to get drunk, but he was as sober as he was when he started. He went to the kitchen for another and when he returned, a man was sitting on his couch.

  “Hello Walter.”

  “How the hell did you get in here?”

  “That’s no way to treat a house guest,” the man said.

  “I’d hardly call you a guest. I never heard the door.”

  “I didn’t feel like using the door.”

  “Then how…”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time. You’d best start and start by telling me how you know my name and how you got in here.”

  “I’ve been following you and admiring what you’ve done so far.”

  “Well, I have a few admirers around, but none have managed to appear in my house.”

  “It’s a skill I can teach you, if you want to learn.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about a name? You got a name?”

  The man uttered a polysyllabic word that made no sense at all to Walter.

  “Come again?”

  “That’s my name, but you can call me Mike if that would be easier.”

  “What language was that?”

  “Not any that you’re familiar with.”

  “Try me…better yet, don’t bother. Where are you from?”

  “I’m…not from around here.”

  “What, you from Pittsburgh or something?”

  “Not exactly, a bit farther away than that.”

  “Overseas?”

  “Farther.”

  “No…you don’t tell me you’re from…”

  “I’m not from this planet, if that’s what you’re driving at.”

  “Yeah…it’s where I was headed. You come in here with that story a month ago I would have thought you were fruit loops, but after what’s happened to me, I don’t know anymore.”

  “You have me to thank for that.”

  “Huh…you did this to me.”

  “Well, I wasn’t really aiming for you, but that’s what happened.”

  “Okay, spaceman—” />
  “Just call me Mike.”

  “Okay, Mike, you zapped me with these powers, but you meant to hit someone else?”

  “Hey, it was dark, I was a bit drunk…my aim was off a bit. There was a young female walking there a minute before.”

  “Blonde hair, not much over five feet tall?”

  “Sounds like her.”

  “I met her not long after.”

  “I saw that. Good job by the way.”

  “Tell me this. Since I got like this, I can’t get drunk for anything, but you said you were too drunk to see who you were zapping. What the hell were you drinking?”

  “Something from home. The stuff here doesn’t do anything.”

  “Anyway, you zapped me and made me into some kind of Superman…what for?”

  “Preparation.”

  “Preparation for what?”

  “My people.”

  “More of you are coming?”

  “Possibly. I’m not sure how many or when, but one is here already.”

  “There might be more?”

  “There probably are, but I only tracked…you can call him Jack.”

  There was the sound of a key in the lock and a couple seconds later Franklin and Kendra walked in, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hey kid, what you two been up to? No good from the look of it,” Walter said.

  “Just been playing ball,” Franklin replied.

  “Yeah, we’ve been at the gym,” Kendra said.

  “That doesn’t sound like too much trouble. I guess you saw the day I had.”

  “We heard about the planes. Sad about the one in Kentucky.”

  “I was this close…a few seconds earlier…”

  “You did your best…but excuse me for being rude. Who’s the guest?”

  “I’m…Mike,” the man replied, getting off the couch and greeting Franklin and Kendra with a handshake.

  “You sure about your name, Mike?”

  “That’s not his real name,” Walter said.

  “What’s your real name?” Kendra asked.

  Mike said his real name.

  “Come again?”

  “That’s why you can call me Mike.”

  “Thanks. What language was that?”

  “Mike’s an alien,” Walter said.

  “Okay,” Franklin said, “Maybe we should start from the beginning when I get back from the kitchen.”