Of Salt and Sand

by Barnes, Michael

  “Excellent!” she said. Then Jessie did something which caught the android by complete surprise. She reached down and kissed him on his forehead. It was a reaction Three-Of-Ten had never experienced. And although he ran multiple inquiries in the milliseconds that followed, he could not find a definition in his database which described this particular interaction with the human lips against his head. He would query Jacob for an update during his next maintenance regimen.

  Jessie turned and hurried out the exit. “Come on you two,” she called back to Teresa and Sam. She bounded down the ramp so quickly that she nearly knocked Brant over. “Cool huh? Didn’t I tell you. Come on!” she said excitedly over her shoulder. “The really cool stuff is in the next room!”

  Brant could only gawk. His ears heard the girl as she dashed past, but his other senses were far too distracted to take much notice. His mouth had unwittingly fallen open in a zombie-type droop which made him look quite ridiculous.

  Teresa finally got herself unbuckled and stood. “Need help with that belt?” she asked Sam. The boy grunted as he tugged at the latch in frustration.

  “Please allow me to assist,” came Three-Of-Ten’s voice.

  Teresa startled as the android’s large frame suddenly appeared in her space. “By all means,” she managed, hands in the air. “I’ll just see you two outside then,” she nodded, and backed away.

  “Okay,” replied Sam, happily. He turned to his metal friend. “Thanks for the help, Three-Of-Ten.”

  “My pleasure, Sam Goodwin.”

  Sheesh! Teresa said to herself hurrying down the aisle. Will I ever get used to it talking! She exited then stepped down to join Brant. He was right where Jessie had left him, still ogling the area as in a daze. She looked him over, shook her head, then reached and pushed his chin up with her finger until his mouth closed. “There now. All better,” she said.

  “Have you ever . . .” he mumbled.

  “Nope,” she replied, moving past. “And neither have you.” It was all beginning to feel nearly routine, as every new turn brought about equal astonishment. “Come on,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re blocking the road.”

  “Huh? Oh.” He hurried to catch up with her, reaching out with his hand to take hold of hers. The gentle grasp of Teresa’s hand felt wonderfully natural now, a content joining which he had come to love so completely. The two of them stepped from the Sandray’s grade onto the metal flooring. Together they eyed the strange surroundings feeling as foreign and out of sync with this reality as they previously had, when Three-Of-Ten first yanked their car through the concrete wall and into his fabricated cocoon hide-a-way. The only difference—and it was a resounding one—was that this time, they were not filled with unknown terror. Just a mountain of apprehension!

  Three-Of-Ten appeared with Sam at the doorway. The android carefully assisted the boy down the ramp until they stood alongside Brant and Teresa. Then, with a “whoa!”, Sam suddenly released his grip and shot off to join his sister.

  Three-Of-Ten moved immediately to an interphase linkup and began executing Jessie’s request. He knew the HOPE mainframe intimately, and although risky, his unique logic gave this hacking endeavor a high probability of success.

  Brant and Teresa hadn’t moved. They were still enthralled in their detailed probe of the room. They immediately noticed a unique phenomenon which had previously alarmed them, but now just seemed . . . odd. The surrounding walls, floor and ceiling had taken on an eerie metallic burn which emitted across all surfaces. The effect was a complete elimination of any shadowing in the room.

  None of them understood the science behind the strange spectacle. But the truth was more physiological than science—a mirage their own minds had created. Having never seen light cast in this manner, their brains created a singularity of vision which gave the impression that everything in the room was aglow. Soon, however, their visual acuity adapted, dispersing the strange illumination. With their vision stabilized, the room became alive in technological activity.

  Panels blinked and pulsed in data and imagery. Futuristic components and gadgetry crowded out from every surface and platform. Some, protruding from stations built into walls and counters, others sat on levitating workbenches that were parked in neat rows like cars lining a busy street. Shelves extended their surfaces on all sides, each covered in contraptions, parts, devices and a myriad of other odd and strange apparatuses. And aloft, on floating supports, a crisscross of modular busses—obviously designed to maneuver massive objects with ease—loomed, as if waiting to drop down with vise-like clasps and hoist the unknown intruders high above and into the jumble of wires, cables, conduits and ducts. It was an indescribable sight to be sure. One which could never be recounted in mere words.

  “Will you two come on!” came Jessie’s voice, finally penetrating their transfixed wall.

  Teresa pulled at Brant’s hand. He uprooted and walked a brisk step with her down a short hallway. They rounded a corner and then stepped into a reinforced dome. It was like walking into the SFX (Special Effects) Department of a sci-fi movie setup.

  As the illumination around them intensified, they found themselves standing in a literal depot of gadgetry. Most of the it could not be identified . . . strange objects that had no association with anything they had ever known or seen. But some of it—items on an area of wall which Jessie now stood in front of—appeared to be some kind of body armor, or fittings which attached in some way to parts of the human body.

  “Jacob got most of his ideas from comics books during the 50’s,” the girl turned to explain. She had already started to attach some wide-banded object around her arm. “You know . . . cool, superhero stuff. I’ll show you.”

  “Wait Jessie!” called Teresa, her hand fumbling out in a cautioning halt. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Some of this stuff looks,”—she hesitated, her head craning quickly around in a wide scope—“dangerous.”

  The girl rolled her eyes and chuckled. “It’s okay. We’re talking Jacob. None of what you see in here is lethal. Honestly. I’ve tried out most everything at least once,” she eased. “It’s all pretty much no-brainer stuff, actually.”

  “Oh man! I’m so in!” hooted Brant eagerly. He let loose Teresa’s hand and stepped briskly ahead. “Belt me up with one of those babies!”

  “Children,” Teresa grumbled.

  “I’ll show you how these repel-belts work first,” Jessie said, fingering at the thick-strapped device. “I think they’re one of Jacob’s most brilliant concepts.”

  “Repel-belts?”, Brant repeated on the outbreath. He could hardly contain himself.

  “Yes. Like the name, they repel any non-biological matter moving toward you at a velocity which can be keyed-in by the user (wearer),” she explained. “There’s only one downside.”

  “And here we go,” mumbled Teresa, finally joining the two.

  “The effective radius of the belt excludes your ankles and feet,” she paused to recall for a moment, “yeah, I think that’s how it was. But the rest of your body is protected.”

  “Ah. Who needs their feet, anyhow,” replied Teresa, sarcastically. She looked down at her shoes and scowled.

  “I can live with that,” Brant replied excitedly. He reached for one of the devices to try on for himself. “All of your vitals are above the knees anyway. Right?”

  Teresa rolled her eyes. It was like talking to a wall!

  “Exactly,” Jessie nodded.

  “So, you’re saying things like bullets and flying debris—all repelled?” Brant asked.

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  “Hey. I want to try one on,” Sam suddenly spoke up, hurrying in from the corridor.

  Teresa was quick to intercept: “Oh no, kiddo. You and I are going to get a demonstration first. I’m not putting on one of those corsets from hell until I’ve seen the results.” She reached and took hold of Sam’s hand. “And neither are you.”

  Sam frowned and stomped a foot.

&nb
sp; Teresa’s eyes narrowed suspiciously on Jessie. “How about it Jess? Do you object to a small demonstration?”

  Jessie shrugged. “Of course not. In fact, it’s a great idea.” She reached and touched a button on the belt. A small panel suddenly came to life midsection near the fastener.

  Teresa’s eyebrows rose intriguingly. She pulled Sam in close.

  “Hmm,” Jessie spoke as to herself, pondering. Then she turned to Brant. “What is the speed of something simply tossed—like a set of keys, for example.”

  He thought a moment. “I suppose somewhere between ten and twenty miles-per-hour?”

  “Alright. I’ll key in a VOAO above . . . say twenty-miles-per-hour, and—”

  “What’s a VOAO?” Brant asked.

  “Oh my gosh!” Jessie broke into laugher. “Just listen to me! I sound like Jacob! How funny is that?” she cackled, shaking her head. “VOAO stands for velocity of approaching object. That’s what Jacob called it. I guess I heard him say it so much, I just repeated it without even thinking” She smiled and let out a puff of air. “I wish he were here.”

  Brant eyed the buttons on his repel-belt. “So do I.”

  Jessie turned her attention back to the device and gave the fastener one more tug. “Okay. That should do it. I’m ready.” She took a firm stance and threw out her chest.

  “Ready for what?” Brant asked, dumbly.

  “Throw your car keys at me. Throw them hard and fast,” she said confidently.

  “Umm.” Brant turned a hesitant glance at Teresa. “I don’t think so, Jess.”

  Teresa shrugged back. “Your call . . . I mean I doubt anyone’s ever been keyed to death. Just don’t hit her in the face.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of!” he gulped.

  “Oh come on!” egged Jessie. “You wimp!”

  Brant straightened. “Wimp?”

  “Yeah. A big, wimpy, scaredy-cat,” she goaded.

  Brant grinned. “Now those are fighting words. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He took out his keys—a full heavy set including a large metal engraved B which he’d had since high-school. He slung them casually up-and-down into the air for a few intimidating seconds.

  “Chicken,” Jessie cackled.

  Brant let out a long breath as he eyed her in a stalking lock. Then he took aim and let them fly. They soared in a fast straight trajectory, right up until impact.

  Slam! They hit hard into Jessie’s side.

  “Ouch!” she yelped and jumped back. She bent quickly over. “That hurt!” Her expression was more of shock than anger.

  “I’m sorry, Jess!” Brant retorted, half stunned himself. His keys had rebounded, landing right at his feet! “Are you alright?”

  Teresa laughed—loudly.

  “I don’t understand,” stammered Jessie, rubbing at her side. “I did it just like Jacob showed me.” She began to fiddle with the belt. “Oh man!” she suddenly moaned. “I forgot to flip the engage switch!” She quickly touched another spot near the panel. This time the belt made a slight popping sound. “That’s more like it.”

  “Hey!” shouted Sam laughing and pointing at his sister’s head. “Look at her hair!”

  Jessie’s arm jerked toward her head. She had forgotten about that little side effect. Jacob had also laughed at her that first time in his workshop. The effect of the belt’s energy field on her hair had been embarrassing, and in retrospect, Jessie was surprised she had forgotten about it. “I know. I know,” she said, blushing. She patting at her hair. “It’s static electricity. It dissipates quickly though.” And it did. The odd rise in her bangs and added twist in her curls, subdued, and as it did, so did Sam’s laughter. “Okay. I’m ready to have another go,” she said, resettling herself. As before, she assumed a brace position.

  Sam grinned and prepared himself for another spot of humor.

  Brant, on the other hand, was nervous. He exhaled and returned a hesitant look. “Jessie. I don’t know. Are you sure? This one might go right at the head. I’m not the best pitcher you know.”

  “Clearly,” Teresa put in.

  “Yes, yes. Come on and throw the keys you wussy-man!”

  “Talk about déjà vu,” Brant mumbled. He shook his head, doubtfully. “I don’t know, Jess.”

  “Oh waaa! Booby! Need a bottle?”

  That was it. Brant smiled devilishly.

  Jessie gulped. This had better work! she told herself, still feeling the sting from the first hit.

  Brant took careful aim, pulled his arm way back, and let them fly—even harder than before! The clinking mass soared, and, as feared, went right for Jessie’s face. Brant cringed. This was going to be bad! But Jessie appeared fearless. She neither flinched nor blinked. Then, just inches from her face, the keys appeared to halted in midair, and dropped with a clang at her feet. It was as though all kinetic energy had been instantly sucked from them.

  “It worked!” Brant shouted, far more relieved than he wanted to admit. “It actually worked!”

  “Of course,” replied Jessie, now radiating in self-confidence. “Jacob said the belt manipulates gravitons and EM fields—or something like that,” she shrugged.

  Teresa nodded. Even she was impressed. But before she would admit to it, there was a major flaw which she was quick to point out: “But you said the belt doesn’t work on biological matter. So technically, someone could still hit or punch you with their fist while wearing the belt, right?”

  “Yes,” Jessie admitted. “Jacob said he had quite a struggle filtering the technology so that biological mass was not affected. It normally would be.”

  “I wonder why he would do that?” Brant questioned. “I mean why would he intentionally engineer such an incredible defensive tool with such a vulnerability?”

  Jessie smiled, wistfully. “Yes. I asked Jacob that very question. He said he was terrified of a scenario where the belt might prevent him from reacting quickly enough to help someone, or even save a life. He reminded me that the technology cannot differentiate between a hostile flying fist, and the thrust of a saving grasp. Both are reactionary, and initially move with velocities that appear aggressive. Only upon contact with the body does the difference become clear. One motion is to injure; the other to save. Jacob couldn’t risk the elimination of one at the cost of the other. That’s how I finally understood it.”

  “I see,” said Brant, grasping the sense of this altruistic logic. The character of this boy genius—Jacob and all his group—was becoming more and more clear. Like it or not, Brant found himself somehow endeared to them . . . this Four whom Gracie had simply called, family.

  “And this is my favorite item of all,” said Jessie, reaching for a very interesting looking device.

  The tubular-shaped object was about the length of her forearm. It had a front and rear clasp which latched around her wrist and attached again just below her elbow. The end nearest to the wrist was capped in a thick, lucid substance, like glass. The other end, near the elbow, tapered into a larger bulb-type shape. The mysterious device was all metal, yet strangely nimble and light, unlike anything metallic Brant had ever seen. Built into the rounded end were buttons, dials and a small screen. “This is what Jacob called his portable EMR device,” Jessie continued, maneuvering the object with much more care than the first. “Of all the contraptions he made here in his workshop, this EMR device was the one he feared most. I sometimes got the feeling that he regretted building it.”

  “Why?” Brant asked, cautiously reaching for one of his own to try out.

  Jessie paused a moment to recalled. “Well,” she said. “Jacob knew he was breaking major rules when he built this workshop,” she explained, glancing around, “not to mention the amazing devices he kept hid inside it. But he was really afraid of the others finding out about this little baby,” she eyed the device now attached to her arm. “Jacob called it, ‘unsanctioned technology’. It is far more powerful than anything else in the room.”

  “What does it do?” Brant anxiously
prodded.

  Jessie reached and stroked its smooth surface. “What does it do,” she repeated. “The EMR attachment is the catalyst for all of the other gadgets in the workshop. It is a matter manipulator. It actually changes one type of matter into another, with identical mass. It’s what Jacob used to create everything else.”

  For the first time, Brant returned an expression of doubt. He looked distant and afraid. “A matter manipulator? I don’t believe it.”

  There was a slight gasp as Teresa took in air. “It sounds terrifying. Take it off, Jessie. Please.”

  “It’s okay! Honestly. Like the belt, it can’t affect biological matter. It’s completely benign to any living tissue.”

  Brant let out an audible sigh.

  “I don’t care. Please, just get that thing off your arm!” Teresa insisted.

  “Oh, alright then,” Jessie relinquished. She began to pull at the clasps. “Jacob told me he was going to disassemble all of them anyway,” she added, her voice trailing off. “But he didn’t get the chance.”

  “He didn’t get the chance, yet,” eased Brant. “But he will, Jess. We’ll get Jacob and the others back here. This is one device that should never have been built. And I am only too anxious to help Jacob expunge it.”

  “I hate to agree with Brant on any of this crazy HOPE . . . techno . . . infatuation . . . crap, but he’s right. I don’t see that we have a choice. Somebody has to undo all this hocus-pocus and take this entire facility out of service. Forever! Whatever Gracie and the Four’s intentions once were,”—Teresa paused, gesturing at the rows of hanging superhero-wear and shelves of other unknown contraptions—“clearly, it has changed. HOPE is no longer a benevolent tool of salvation. I’m afraid it may become just the opposite.” In the steel dome, Teresa’s voice expanded and boomed like a prophetess admonishing her subjects. “If the Four don’t return to Sandcastle, Heaven help us . . . and all who live on earth.”

  It was in that instant that Three-Of-Ten suddenly exploded in an audible cry which froze blood and sent chills down every spine: “Goliath systems approaching! ETA in thirty-seconds! Advise immediate evacuation to Sandray!” The mechanical humanoid appeared in the entry. He had morphed into attack mode, and even though the group knew, indisputably, that he was their ally, his very appearance caused them to shrink back in momentary fear. His soft humanoid features were gone, replaced instead by thickened armor, angry scarlet eyes and an assortment of defensive mechanisms which bulked and distorted his frame.