by Bev Prescott
“A turbo-vest?” Sharon scratched the scruff of his neck. “I didn’t think they could fly that high.”
“The average vest can’t,” Federico answered. “But Icarus can.”
“Icarus?”
“A winged turbo-vest integrated with a biothermal survival suit powered by solar and thermoelectric energy.” He pointed at the ceiling. “We’ll just be sure not to fly too close to the sun.”
“Another Woody invention, I assume.” Sharon smoothed Erik’s head before stretching the kinks in her back from sitting. “Where does the thermoelectric energy come from?”
“Heat from your body while you’re flying. And no, Woody didn’t invent it.” Federico smiled. “But she perfected it.” Affection and awe seeped through his voice. To JJ, he said, “Once we’re suited, I’ll signal you to open the launch bay.” He gripped the younger man’s shoulders. “We’re in the last days that will define our future. If something bad happens to me, I just want you to know how proud I am of you.”
Like a voyeur looking in on a pact to which she didn’t belong, Sharon watched the moment play out between the two men. Even though she didn’t know the stories that made them, it was obvious they’d become like father and son. She craved the camaraderie of family.
“I won’t let you down.” JJ unlocked his restraint and rose. “We’ll all be together again soon.” He turned and bumped heads with Federico. “I promise you. These are the beginning days, not the last.”
“Ah, the optimism of the young. Hold tight to it. Just don’t let it kill you.” Federico patted JJ’s cheeks. “Come, Sharon. The skies are quiet and clear. Perfect for flying.”
“I’ll hold enough for both of us.” JJ crouched and slapped a thigh. “Erik, you have to stay with me, boy.”
The dog whimpered at Sharon’s side.
She got to a knee and cupped his head. Erik exuded the measure of loyalty and resolve to protect her that she carried for Eve. “We’re kindred souls, you and I.” She smoothed his fur. “I can’t wait for Eve to meet you, and you her. I’ll be back. You keep JJ out of trouble.”
“A tall order.” Federico laughed and lifted a foot over the portal threshold. “See you two soon,” he said to JJ and Erik.
Sharon trailed him out of the cramped cockpit into the Belostomatid’s cavernous cargo bay. They moved past the stolen water-transporter. The number seven prominently etched onto its side gave it the forlorn look of being out of place.
At the end of the cargo bay, Federico climbed a set of four stairs into a cramped storage space. Bulky turbo-vests, jumpsuits, and footlockers jam-packed the room. He put a finger to his lips and scrutinized Sharon. “You must be a little less than two meters tall?”
“About one point eight,” she answered.
He pointed at one of the suits. “You’re thin, so Icarus-nine might be a tad loose, but should fit your height. That’s most important.” Lifting it from its hook, he said, “Slip it over your clothing, including your boots.”
Sharon grasped it. “It’s heavy.” Lowering it to her feet, she tugged it up over her boots to her shoulders. She slid her hammer’s baldric more left, to under her arm, and zipped the suit.
“Even heavier with the vest. But, you won’t notice once you’re airborne.” Federico lifted a vest from the hook. Two silver wings integral to the vest hung tucked closed at its back. “Turn around. I’ll put it on you.” He held it open. “The skin on the wings generates solar power. The two cylinders circulate a bio-thermal plasma through the suit that regulates body temperature.”
She lifted her arms to help him place the vest onto her back.
He clicked the chest buckles closed and handed her a pair of gloves. “The controls are in the palms of these.”
She pulled the gloves on and flexed her fingers. Thick black pads bulked up the palms. “How do they work?”
He turned her left hand over, and tapped her palm. “It’s a touch screen. But it powers on as soon as it comes in contact with skin. See?” He pointed at the digital numbers. “The suit’s already calculating external and internal body temperatures. It’s calibrated to keep you at twenty degrees Celsius. You can bump it down or up, as you like. The controls are similar to a hydro-bike. They’re pretty straightforward.”
“I can fly a hydro-bike in my sleep.” She rolled her shoulders. A stab of pain shot through her upper back. “Damn.”
“You okay?” Federico asked as he handed her a helmet.
“Yeah, I just moved the wrong way.” She molded the flexible helmet over her head. “My shoulder’s still bothering me.”
“You could have a bone fragment loose in there or something. We’ll have Dale take a look once we get back to Belosto-One.”
“A different ship?”
“A predecessor of the Belostomatid. Belosto-One isn’t nearly as maneuverable, and a lot harder to hide. But Woody built her big enough to transport all of the Qaunik at one time.” He lifted a suit labeled Icarus-eleven from a hook. “You okay to fly?”
“Yeah. No problem.”
“Let me know if things change. We’ll stop to rest if necessary.” He shimmied into Icarus-eleven, a vest, helmet, and gloves. “Let’s go fly.”
Sharon followed Federico into the open bay. The vest’s wings brushed the backs of her calves. “Speaking of bugs. I kind of feel like a housefly.”
“That’s about to change. With those wings spread at your back, you’ll feel like a raptor.” He paused at the hatch door and reached in his pocket. “This is a GPS memory-drive.” Holding the thimble-sized device between his forefinger and thumb, he snapped it into a port on her left vest pocket. “The GPS is programmed to bring you over El Capitan, the High Sierras, and down to our landing near the city. You can override the system and fly manually should the need arise, so take a few minutes to get used to the controls. My advice is to settle in and let the vest do all the work. It’s a once in a lifetime trip where we’re going. Enjoy it.”
He plugged a second memory-drive into his own vest. “There’s a button on your right chin strap. Press it to talk to me.” He closed the space between them. “Before we go, I have to say thanks again for sharing your apples with JJ and me. It was kind of you.” He bumped his head to hers. “I’m glad we got to cross paths in this life.”
With their heads pressed together, she realized she had never expected to feel warmth again for anyone other than Eve or Dr. and Mrs. Ryan. Her well of caring had gone dry—or so she thought—with the death of her family. But Inu, Annie, Erik, Federico, and JJ had tugged her into the fragility of caring. Part of her wanted to let go and be pulled into their deep current of friendship. The other part resisted that vulnerability. “You’re welcome,” she said, pulling away.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“Yeah, let’s fly.” Sharon smiled.
Federico pressed the audio-comm button on the wall next to the hatch. “If the sky is quiet, JJ, please open the hatch. We’re ready to fly.”
“Looks like you’ll have a brilliant sky all to yourselves.” JJ’s voice emanated from the audio-comm in the ceiling. “I’m envious. Hope you see a rare bird or two.”
“Not likely,” Federico responded, “but it sure would be nice.”
“May you fly like snow,” JJ said as the hatch door hissed and slid open.
Federico pressed the audio-comm. “Exceptional as one. Inexorable together.”
Sharon squinted at the sharp sunlight and dry heat. A twinge of sad irony plucked at her. How could a people pledge to fly like snow and expect to survive in such a hot world? She lowered the helmet’s face shield, and hoped they could.
With her thumb, she flicked the wing icon on her palm. The titanium extensions at her back snapped open. Catching her shadow where the Belostomatid blocked the sun’s rays, she glanced over her shoulder at Federico. “You were right.”
He hopped down and said, “Definitely not an insect. You look like an eagle. Ready?”
“Can’t wait.” She pressed the f
light button that powered the booster at her back, lifting her into the sky. She held her finger to the screen to hover, then swiped right. Icarus-nine moved horizontally toward the east. She swiped left and her direction changed to the west. “Very responsive.”
“Sí.” Federico swooped past her.
She pressed the autopilot icon and watched the altimeter in her palm rise to six hundred meters before Icarus-nine leveled off.
Federico rose until he hovered about twenty meters away. His smooth, calm voice wafted into her helmet. “You ready to see El Capitan?”
A flutter of excitement moved in her. She pressed her finger to the chin strap. “I wish Eve were here too.”
“Someday, amiga, you will show her El Cap. Now, press the ‘D’ on your right ring finger. Icarus-nine will do the rest.” He zoomed off ahead of her.
Following the programmed flight card, Icarus-nine gathered speed, gliding Sharon west toward the dark, craggy mountains looming at the horizon.
The Nevada Solar Farm and human graffiti in the form of deserted roads and ramshackle buildings receded into the east. Wind buffeted her suit where the fabric was loose. Yet, inside her helmet, the only sound was her breathing. Soaring over hills and troughs covered in a blanket of dust-brown flecked with occasional avocado green, she settled into the solitude. The stunning craggy mountains to the west seemed to have their own gravity, pulling her to them. Snow capped only the highest of them. From her perspective in the sky, the enormity of Earth revealed itself. God, it’s beautiful. She stumbled over the word god in her head.
“You okay back there?” Federico’s voice sliced through the silence.
She pressed her chin strap. “Thinking about God of all things.”
“Not many believers left in the world. I wouldn’t have guessed you’re one of them.”
“I’m not. I don’t believe in things I can’t see.” She kept a finger to the strap.
“What about love?” Federico asked. “You can feel it, and act on it. But can’t see it.”
“Touché,” Sharon said. “How about you?”
“Being Catholic is a hard habit to break. Although I do wish believers before us had spent more time appreciating the things they could see. Maybe they would’ve noticed the world coming apart while they planned for the afterlife.”
The wings at her back lifted her higher with the rise of earth toward the Sierra. A distinctive round depression swathed in crusty yellow lay below the eastern slope of the mountains. Sharon turned her wrist to view the GPS map.
“That’s what’s left of Mono Lake,” Federico said. “When the snow stopped falling decades ago over the Sierra, the lake died of thirst. We’ll be seeing El Cap soon. You’ll know it when you see it. Then we’ll head northwest over the Sierra and down toward San Francisco. Our touchdown location is just outside the reach of NONA radar.”
“How do we get into the city?”
“By way of much more inconspicuous transportation.” He sounded amused. “I guarantee it will not be as luxurious as Icarus-nine.”
“With you guys, I’ve stopped trying to predict modes of transportation.”
“Wise woman. Until then, enjoy the scenery.” Federico’s mic squawked off.
The flaps on her wings slid back, lifting her higher. Nude rocky peaks reached upward too, as if grasping for her. A deep gouge in the mountains yawned below as her altitude leveled off. Yosemite Valley bent into a slight smirk. She felt her face melt into one that mimicked it. She believed in the universe. With or without humans, Earth would keep spinning among other celestial things. The notion was comforting.
A smooth, gray, rounded mountain with half its face sloughed off jutted from the valley to her left. Half Dome. Ha. She pressed the mic button. “I feel like a kid up here seeing this stuff for the first time.”
“Imagine the days,” Federico said, “when waterfalls spilled into cool blue lakes, and shades of green shrouded the valley. I’ve never seen it, but I can picture it. Reminds me of opera. Grand, nuanced, fast, slow, dramatic, complicated, lovely, and—ultimately tragic.”
“I’ll hold onto hope that I get to share this with Eve here someday.” Letting her body fully relax into flight, she imagined being an eagle gliding on thermals.
“I didn’t take you for being an optimist, either.”
“I’m not.” The granite profile of a broad-shouldered sentinel standing guard filled her vision. “El Capitan!”
“Indeed.” Federico laughed. “A sometime optimist with a little kid still inside.”
Sharon twisted her head to follow the majestic rock formation with her eyes. “Just a little.”
“Sí, amiga. Take it all in.”
When she could no longer see El Capitan, she looked forward. Icarus-nine brought her higher as they flew over enormous craggy peaks. The humbling enormity of it made it hard to breathe. “If I live to be an old woman, I’ll always remember this view.” Dissolving into the moment, she exhaled.
“I wish you a long and peaceful life,” Federico said.
They topped the highest peaks and dipped into the clouds hugging the western flank of the Sierras. A plane of blue-green ocean butted against the length of California. A distinct line of chaotic rock and broken buildings sliced the land from north to south.
Pulling herself from the silence, Sharon pressed her chin strap. “Is that the fault line?”
“Sí,” Federico answered. “The damage along the San Andreas after the Quake of 2067 was so bad, people just left everything where it fell. With the wars, NONA couldn’t afford repairs anyway.”
“It looks like a horror show.”
“Won’t get any better as we head into San Francisco. Not much left standing except for the Golden Gate Bridge.” Federico veered right, pushing north along the fault line. “Couldn’t kill that beast.”
Scorched, blackened earth lay dormant under buildings that had toppled and burned. It reminded Sharon of an unkempt graveyard. “In a single day, I’ve witnessed some of the most beautiful and ugly things I’ve ever seen. Why the hell are people still down there?”
“Because down there, you can get away with anything. Assuming you manage to stay alive. Can’t eat the fish from the ocean after Hawaii got nuked. No one’s going to build anything only to have it knocked down.” The flaps on Federico’s wings lifted and he slowed. “The thing is, 80 percent of the world’s black-market goods flow through San Francisco. If you can avoid getting killed, there’s plenty to steal and sell.”
“Not worth it,” Sharon said as Icarus-nine brought her to where Federico hovered.
“Depends on how much you value your life.” He dove lower toward a small clearing, pointing his feet toward ground. “We’re just outside of San Fran. These hills are called the Marin Headlands. Get ready to land. Icarus-nine will put you down slowly, but you’ll have to run a few steps before you come to a stop. Remember to flex your knees.”
“Got it.” The ground rushed up and scraggly vegetation ran by in Sharon’s peripheral vision. Her feet touched ground. She jogged and slowed to a stop. The suit’s wings swiveled closed. Suddenly the contraption felt heavy again. She bent at the waist to catch her breath.
Federico removed his helmet and vest. “Nice job.” He wriggled out of his suit.
Sharon slipped her helmet off. Hot, humid air slammed into her. “It’s hotter than hell out here.” She tore the vest from her shoulders and wrestled out of the suit.
A not-so-rare raven circled overhead as if annoyed by their presence. The low hillside surrounded by dry brush concealed them from anyone on the ground. The scent of the ocean wafted in from the west. It was thick with the aroma of decay.
“Let’s get some water.” Federico pulled branches away from a pile of debris, revealing a polycarbonate box. He flipped it open and retrieved two flasks. “Here you go.”
Sharon fumbled with the top and guzzled. The water tasted flat and slightly rank. “Thanks.”
Federico tore more branches from the heap
. “We’ll leave the vests and suits here.” He tossed another prickly branch aside, revealing an old solar-bike. “Like I said, we need to be inconspicuous in the city. You think you can fly this thing, right? I’ll navigate and keep a lookout.” He laid his suit, then Sharon’s, inside the box and stacked the vests on top.
“This must be a 2033 Skyhawk? My grandfather had one. Does it even start?”
He leaned over and pushed the ignition cartridge in place. “Doesn’t need a fingerprint, and she does fly. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Sharon threw a leg over the bike and revved the engine. Its raucous rattle vibrated her insides. “I thought you said we needed to be inconspicuous. Bad guys will be able to hear this beater coming from kilometers away.”
Federico shut the box and covered it with branches. “Trust me.” He hopped onto the back of the bike. “We’ll fit in fine.”
“If you say so.”
“Sí.” He patted her shoulder. “Head south toward the Golden Gate Bridge. That’s how we’ll enter the city. If this thing cuts out, I’d rather be over the bridge than water.”
“Right.” Sharon rolled her eyes and moved the lift throttle forward. The loud clatter necessitated looking over her shoulder so that Federico could yell commands into her ear.
He cupped his mouth and shouted, “When you get over the bridge, hang left over the only street!”
“How high can this thing fly?”
He cocked his head and shouted, “Maybe three meters. Five, tops! Don’t worry. You’ve got this!”
“And you’re an optimist, always.” She eased the throttle forward.
As they neared the bridge, Sharon searched for a path through the rubble and squatters’ camps. The grand rust-colored bridge tying the land together seemed more haphazard living space than thoroughfare. Shanties, broken vehicles, and broken people spread along its expanse in both directions.
Thick fog crept in from the ocean, seeming to grope at them. Sharon checked the altimeter and dared to lift the bike a meter higher. It shook, coughed, and clanked. The fog thickened. “Holy hell.” To keep on course, she gripped the steer bar with both hands.