Evolution

by Dave Nesbit

  The plane reached the bottom part of the loop and pulled out and I followed.

  “What's your status Ryan?” Doctor Ng’s voice came through loud and clear in my headphones.

  “I got a hell of a headache but damn that was fun.” I answered with a wide grin.

  “Good, now get back to the testing point. I think we're done for the day.” The jet took off back to the airbase and I turned lazily back toward the lake shore. The headache was passing quickly and, in a few minutes, I was back on solid ground.

  There are times when you don't notice how tired you are till you stop working. Once my feet touched the ground my legs had a little trouble supporting me. I went to one knee and collected myself, as I felt light headed.

  Hands pulled the glasses and headset off of me, and Hamilton handed me a Granola bar. I wolfed that down and felt a little better, then stood.

  “Not bad work out there.” Hamilton said. “But let’s get a look at you in the infirmary.”

  Chapter 24

  Three hours later, they cut me loose. We were finding the upper ends of what I could do in terms of endurance. I could stay in flight for close to an hour if I didn't push my speed too high. And if I went full out then my time got cut down to about fifteen minutes. Then I'd have to stop and eat. Yes, even superheroes have fuel issues.

  We'd solved part of the issue with a diet that alternated between proteins and carbs. In the morning I'd have the mother of all pasta salads then for lunch I'd destroy some serious meat filled dish of one kind or another.

  For when I was actually working I had a few granola and power bars in my utility belt in case I got short on juice. At one point, and I kid you not, Doctor Ng had suggested a backpack and rectal feeding as a way to keep me going for hours. I pointed out that I might find it difficult to focus on the task at hand with a feeding tube stuck up my ass. She pointed out I hadn't tried it. To which I suggested to her that she could take a swing at it first and report back to me.

  Still haven't heard anything more on that front.

  At the same time the class emphasis had definitely changed even more. We had the usual basic math and English courses but now we were taking courses on investigation and tactics. It was becoming increasingly clear we were being groomed for some kind of position. We just had no idea what it might be.

  What I didn't know was how close we were to actually being in a situation where our talents could be used.

  As I walked out, Hamilton walked beside me. “How ya feeling?”

  “Not bad, a little stiff, but a long shower will help.”

  “Good, we've got a possible situation.”

  “Define situation?” I asked.

  “The weather; it looks like we're gonna get a gale in soon.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “On the off chance it creates problems we want a couple of teams on standby to assist. I talked to the boss and he wants your house and another ready to go if things get weird.”

  “You're saying I should get the shower out of the way early?”

  “Probably a good idea.” He said. “Double check all your gear as soon as you’re done, it could get ugly fast.”

  I nodded, wondering what I was about to get into.

  Chapter 25

  I did as I was told. The rest of the house had been filled in on the situation and had their gear all laid out.

  “This is weird.” Rachel said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I'm hoping they don't call us but I’m kind of hoping they do.” She said and checked out the communications pack on the back of her belt. Making sure all the connections were in.

  “Oh good; I'm not the only one.” Ramon said as he looked over his gear. We'd all been checking our equipment over and over as we saw the storm clouds roll in. For actual situations our suits had a small backpack for carrying mission specific gear, cargo pockets for routine stuff and a belt with clips for everything from communications gear to a small pack for food and such.

  I tried not to seem worried about it, but I had lived here my whole life and knew a gale coming in off the lake is serious stuff. The best way to describe them is like mini hurricanes. Winds can hit 100 miles an hour. The sea goes berserk and waves crash three times past their usual swells. For laughs as a kid, I would lean my full body weight into the storm winds and not fall.

  And if you happen to have a ship caught in this weather? Well, the great lakes are littered with ships that ran out of luck. The most famous of which is a ship called the Edmund Fitzgerald. A huge ore-carrying transport that was bigger than an aircraft carrier that got swallowed whole by Lake Superior back in the 70's. One minute she was there, a couple of minutes later? Nothing.

  Yeah, I wasn't scared at all.

  “Let's hope for the best and prep for the worst.” Shawn said.

  “Easy for you to say.” Rachel said and threw a towel at him. “You'll be back here.”

  “Not by choice.” Shawn was doing his best to not seem like he wasn't holding up his end. Which in fact he was. His gear was getting better every day. He had spent time talking to the tech guys here, in perfecting and idiot proofing the equipment we had on our suits. But the passive nature of his ability always made him feel like our house’s red-headed stepchild. In his spare time, he was working on sorting out that little image issue.

  The evening had a feeling of foreboding. Which all came to a head at nine o'clock. The storm was in full swing, although thankfully this far inland it was more like a violent thunderstorm, but we were watching the radar. With winds in excess of 110 miles an hour and swells averaging about 25 feet; now would not be a good time to be out on the lake.

  So, of course, we all got text messages to report to the briefing room asap.

  We all grabbed our gear and hauled it out into the cold wet dark night. As I expected, Hamilton was there along with the school's head administrator Mr. Watson. He stood ramrod straight talking to a guy in a white military uniform. We all took seats in the briefing room as Watson turned around and pressed a series of buttons on a computer.

  “Welcome everyone, try not to get too comfortable.” Mr. Watson said in a voice that had a quality like rich mahogany. He missed his calling, he should have gone into voice-overs. “We're going to need you out there as soon as possible.” He turned to the man in uniform. “This is Captain Jankowski of the United States Coast Guard. He'll fill you in on the particulars.”

  The gentleman in the white uniform turned and looked us over. It was obvious he was doing his best not to shake his head. “Alright folks, we have cargo ship caught near the coast by Sheboygan. Apparently the ship’s captain tried to get close to the shore to avoid the worst of the storm and discovered a reef no one had bothered to chart.”

  He called up an image from the computer. It was the ship in question, it’s deck bristling with storage containers. “This is real time satellite imagery, she's trying to make speed to get out into deeper water, but she's taken damage to her port side.”

  “Port?” Ramon looked confused.

  “Left.” Watson said cutting off any chance we might make this any longer.

  “We need you to get to the ship and use the abilities you have to make repairs on the hull and keep her floating. A few of those cargo containers have highly toxic chemicals in them, if they were to get loose into the lake it would be a disaster.”

  “Okay, you've got a mission. All details have been loaded onto your screens.” Hamilton said. “Ryan, I want you to take lead as you're the fastest. Get to the ship and then guide the others in.”

  “Gotcha.” I said and grabbed my gear.

  “We'll have you patched into the ship's radio, so you can get updates on what's going on.” Watson said. “But if it looks like it's not recoverable, I do not want you to take any chances, get the crew off there and get home safe.”

  We all nodded, And I walked off to get my gear on.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Is there a word for excited and terrified all
in one feeling?’ I thought as I put the last of my gear on and checked the communications setup. ‘Maybe exified?’ I thought, then stepped out into the rain.

  I was officially out of excuses and reasons to waste time. For a brief moment I remembered a piece of video I saw during a moment of morbid curiosity. It was the body of a diver, or what was left of it, in an area that was too deep to recover it safely. Suspended by the air tanks strapped to their suit. Not much was left aside from ragged flesh. Nah I wasn’t scared at all.

  For the first time, I focused on the earth’s magnetic field and took off, flying with a purpose in mind. There were people in danger and it was my job to help.

  And I was all of seventeen. Sure, no pressure.

  You know there are times when it's best to wear a helmet. Seriously, if you're on a motorcycle, flying a fighter plane, or in my case flying along through a storm of biblical proportions over Lake Michigan.

  Shawn had been kind enough to throw the same HUD and communications set up into a full face motorcycle helmet for me, and right now I would have kissed him for it.

  Because, at that period of time, flying through the storm was reaching a point where I was beginning to wonder if I was going to survive just getting to the damn ship. The winds were pushing well in excess of a hundred miles an hour in gusts. The lightning was blowing up around me; like God had taken personal umbrage at the lake for existing. And the rain was so dense that I might as well have just swam there.

  The HUD in the helmet kept me more or less on course. Except for when a lightning strike was too close and it decided to reboot. Which was happening often enough that I worried each time I'd be out here in the dark with no clue as to where the shore of the lake was if it didn't come back on. Thankfully I had packed an old fashioned compass in my belt for emergencies. I would check my heading as my gear rebooted to keep me more or less on course.

  I was flying at full power to get out of this nightmare so I could land on to another one. It's about 150 miles from where I left to where I wanted to go. And that put me at just over fifteen minutes. Thankfully I'd loaded up on power bars before I left.

  On my helmet display I could see the target designator go green which meant I was within 20 miles of the ship. I clicked on their radio frequency. “SS Kyle Winslow I'm almost at your position, could you send up a flare please?”

  I pulled my speed back hard when my range closed to two miles on the target. As I did, I saw a harsh white light pop up off the waves and arc over the horizon. I angled toward it and was able to make out the lights on the ship.

  Where apparently things had gone from bad to ‘oh shit’ bad.

  She was listing pretty harshly to the port side and the lights were flickering. I got close and took care of my first task for the day. I pulled up over the ship and stopped in midair by the main radio mast then slipped a beacon light out of my back pack.

  Which is when the first real problem showed itself.

  Let’s just say I know dick about boats and ships, less still about lakes, etc. What I was noticing was that the waves were pitching the ship around like a cork in a bath. Trying to get to and hold the mast was, in and of itself, a trick.

  Just as I got close to the damn thing; the ship pitched forward and I basically got smacked with the whole length of the mast. Managing to nail myself square in the groin and head at the same time.

  I grabbed hold of it for dear life and waited a few seconds for the pain to become tolerable; then peeled off the back of the adhesive and stuck the damn light on the pole. It would flash now in standard light and UV for the other two to find.

  I flew back down to the main deck and managed to execute a perfect landing. Well, if by perfect you mean the damn deck rose up to meet me followed by it pitching sideways, sending me ass over tea kettle into a container. Which, by the way, is a hell of a thing to take in the small of the back.

  I got back up and staggered my way to an open door where a crewman was signaling to me. Once inside he shut and secured the hatch, and I took off my helmet.

  “Jesus kid; does your mama know what you're doing?” I looked the guy over. He was dressed in an orange rain suit with a long but well-trimmed dark beard that framed a face that clearly had seen some excitement, from the leathery skin all the way to the ancient looking scars on his cheeks.

  “I think if she knew she'd likely have a stroke. Now can you get me to the captain please?” I said, getting used to the feeling of being on a surface that just wouldn’t hold still.

  “Sure thing, kid.” He said and we took a leisurely stroll to the bridge. Which in this case meant we took our time because the stairs kept moving to and fro. All the while the ship made groaning noises that had me worried that it might come apart around us.

  We got to the bridge and the crew turned to look. Everyone took in the surreal scene of this young kid here to save them. Finally, the man in the center of it all sighed and said. “Really? You're our rescue?”

  Okay, so far I had been battered by a storm, smacked in the back with a cargo container and this guy’s freaking ship had blasted me in the balls. To say my patience was thin would be an understatement that would rank up there with calling a nuclear weapon an explosive device.

  “Look I broke the sound barrier to get here and even forgot to bring a plane to do it, could ya maybe keep your disappointment to yourself?” I reached into the bag and handed him a Bluetooth headset. “That's a direct line to the coast guard, get to talking.”

  I'm not sure if he was used to being talked to like that on his bridge, and frankly I didn't care. While he talked to the Coast Guard station, I pulled out my communications headset from my helmet and wolfed down a couple of power bars.

  As I slid the headset on I heard the reassuring tone of Shawn’s voice on the other end. “Ryan are you there? Come in please.”

  “Yes I am here, not thrilled about it, but here.”

  There was a relieved sigh. “Okay, Ramon and Rachel are five minutes out. I need you to go down to the port engine room and give me a video look of what’s going on there.”

  “On it.” I looked at the crewman I had met on the deck. “Can you get me to the port engine room?”

  “It's partially flooded.” He said.

  “Well, let's see what we can do about that.” The guy nodded and we went back down the stairs. We moved deeper and deeper into the main part of the ship; as the ship kept pitching and bobbing in the waves. The motion caused me to get to know a couple of bulkheads fairly well, but we somehow managed to make it to a door marked “Engine room” and we were met there by a large lady with a severe razor haircut.

  “What are you doing here?” She asked looking me over. The surprise on her face was plain to see.

  “Trying to help, can you show me the port engine room please?”

  She looked dubious. “And how are you gonna help?”

  “He's one of ‘The Touched’,” The guy said. “He flew in all by himself no chopper or nothin’. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

  The lady rolled her eyes. “Karen McKutchen, ship’s chief engineer.”

  “Hi, Ryan Larkin. I don't have a job a title.”

  “Can you even shave yet?” She looked me over like I was a curiosity. I hadn’t been here ten minutes and this was already getting old.

  I took a deep breath counted to ten, then counted to ten in French, which is a language I suck at. “Sure I can. Hell, when we get to port I'll even let you watch me do it. Now then, the engine room please?”

  Over my headphones I could hear Shawn trying very hard to stifle his laughter. You'd think I'd get credit just for making it here.

  She opened the hatch to the engine room, and I could see part of the problem immediately. The room was in about six feet of water and I could hear the ship's pumps fighting a valiant battle to push the water back out.

  “I have one engine; the main generator has crapped out due to a short. And if the backup goes we're headed to the bottom.” She said with a grimace
. She took a deep breath and crossed herself.

  I turned my glasses over the room. “Shawn are you getting this?” I asked.

  “Got it, can you get closer?”

  I walked in and followed the stairs down into the water. I could feel the current in the room being made by the water coming in.

  “Okay we need to get the water out of that room, and see about clearing out the engine to get it restarted.” Shawn said.

  “Got any bright ideas on how to do that?”

  “How ya feeling?”

  “Fucking exhausted all ready.”

  “Okay they’re 30 seconds out. Get Rachel and Ramon down there to close the hull breach and get the water out. I need you to see about getting the main generator online.”

  I looked up at the Ship's Engineer. “Can you point me to the main generator?”

  “Keep walking forward about fifty feet, it’s in the deep end.” She shook her head.

  I walked toward it and was swimming by the time I got there. Looking up I saw Rachel and Ramon walking down the stairs. “We've been briefed,” was all Rachel said.

  The next few minutes were a demonstration of what we could do that made me pretty proud. Rachel either converted the water to steam or literally forced it back out of the breech in the hull, which gave the pumps time to get purchase and get ahead of the fight. As she did Ramon used his ability to effectively weld the breech shut with a piece of cargo door.

  Now we were in a room that was a lot more dry. The ships list was improving. A few of the cargo bays were still full of water but we could actually conduct some repairs.

  Rachel helped Karen with the main motor, forcing water out of it, as Ramon upped the overall temperature of the room to a point where I didn't feel like I was freezing my ass off. As he did, I was letting my senses stretch out to feel the generator.

  When I do this stuff normally, I'm feeling something simple; like a door or a piece of steel. This was far more complex. Tons of moving parts, coils of copper wire and powerful electromagnets that needed a current flowing through them to get the damn thing up and running.