The Day Gravity Became Irrelevant

by Ralph Rotten

  “We don’t actually own the moon,” Marty pointed out. “International treaty stipulates that no nation may own the moon.”

  “Bullshit!” The General refuted that. “We’re the only nation that has ever set foot on her. We left a car with the keys in the ignition up there, and do you know why?”

  The others looked between them before shrugging at his question.

  “Because we own the fucking place, that’s why. It’s our moon, regardless of what some whiny UN treaty says. There is only one flag posted on the moon, and it’s ours.” Thumbing towards his own chest full of medals, the military man made his point clear.

  “It doesn’t matter either way,” Marty knew how to settle the debate. “We could give them title and deed to Mars, Jupiter, and the Sun, but it doesn’t mean they’d ever be able to do anything with it. It takes more than a few hundred million dollars to get to the moon. This guy’ll just end up wiping his ass with the title for all the use he’ll get out of it. Clearly whoever wrote this contract is unhinged from reality, which is even more fuel for our argument to take it by eminent domain, for the good of the nation.”

  “Yes, for the good of the nation.” Agreeing, the man who sat on the far couch echoed their sentiments. Wearing no identification whatsoever, Robert Heckler’s presence had been approved by the President himself. A political benefactor since Phelps’ days as a senator, the man in the dapper grey suit was a regular at White House events. Representing the defense industry, he was one of only two people in the room who could not be fired. Having donated millions to the President’s reelection campaigns, and billions more to the GOP, he held great sway over Phelps’ decision making.

  “Ten years is not enough time. We need unfettered control of this technology.” Like a broken record, General Hicks repeated the phrase.

  “Sir, if I could offer an alternative.” Seated across from the man in the dapper grey suit was his stocky counterpart in a blue suit. Representing the aerospace industry, Drummond Heckler smiled wanly as he spoke. “We have searched through the patents that are pending or already on file, and we find nothing on antigravity. Hence, this device has not yet been patented, as near as we can tell. And international patent law is clear; he who patents first is the true owner of the technology.”

  There was silence as the advisors each looked back and forth between one another. With the Attorney General intentionally absent from the meeting, they had to rely on the only lawyer in the room.

  “Would that work, Marty?” Phelps leaned forward on his elbows.

  Running the idea through his head, Marty DeColle considered it for several moments before finally looking the President in the eyes.

  “Actually, I think it will. If they are unprotected by patent, then their invention could just be reinvented by whoever figures out the secret first. Yes, this could be quite plausible.” Nodding, the chief-of-staff continued to calculate the possibilities. “If this Agent Asanté can put us in the room with this guy, I believe we could make this work.”

  With different content on each monitor, Jamie was simultaneously monitoring the black-site prison while enjoying a documentary on patients with autism. Watching a child rock back and forth with anxiety, the savant tried to imagine how it must be to suffer from such a socially debilitating disorder. A quick glance to the left screen revealed that inmate Bernard Shaw was in the process of being water boarded for the third time that day. With fully-plumbed interrogation rooms, the prison was really quite a remarkable machine.

  Wrapping his arms around himself, Jamie tried to mimic the child on the center screen. Making an mmmm sound as he rocked forward and back seemed to help make the act even more authentic. Pleased with his own performance, Jamie kept a keen eye on the video until something on the left-most monitor distracted him.

  It was a vehicle parked just down the street from a seemingly innocuous office building. While there had been many cars and trucks parked there in the last three days, it was the sign of the SWAT tactical vehicle that stood out. Seeing the line of uniformed men snake their way out the back and down the sidewalk, he could see that they were exploiting the building’s blind spots. With two men swinging around behind the structure, and the rest going to the front door, it was clear they were not collecting money for the policeman’s ball.

  Counting down on his fingers, the lead agent signaled the go-ahead. Immediately two men swung the battering ram, smashing open the front door. Pouring through the breach, the tactical team swarmed the interior of the structure.

  Pausing the autism video, Jamie wanted to focus his full attention on the raid. Knowing that Alexis had already notified the press, he wanted to be able to sit back and slurp his soda while the show unfolded. While the little obscure office building seemed nothing out of the ordinary, Alexis had been able to determine the true nature of the facility. It was the raw processing power of her cubed processor that allowed her to look at such a massive picture as the internet, painted in URLs, text messages, and email; and spot the bread crumbs leading to this particular establishment. No human could have made the connection, let alone tied it to the legal contract texted to Agent Asanté just a half hour ago.

  “The press is two blocks out; I have been giving them green lights the whole way.” Pleased with herself, it had taken relatively little effort for her to penetrate the city’s traffic control system. Despite their physical and cyber safeguards, it had been child’s play for her to negotiate around the roadblocks. Static defenses were no match for a mobile AI.

  “Does we got any of that-there radio chatter?” Country Jimmy wondered aloud, hoping to catch their conversations.

  “Encrypted. I’m trying to decipher it but mathematically speaking it will take me another seven minutes or less.” Alexis’ voice came through the desktop speakers.

  “Ahhh, save the processing power, I can imagine what they’se saying.” Nodding seriously, the savant broke character by smiling broadly as he made his own radio noises. “Uh Roger two-six-niner, we have a room full of naked people and a fat guy in a bikini, covered in maple syrup.”

  Laughing at his own joke, Country Jimmy could hear Alexis cackling in the background. Although he preferred she not waste the resources on such superfluous activity, it pleased him to know he made her laugh with his antics. But his giggling halted as the white van from Channel 9 news screeched to a halt in front of the building. Close behind it were two more vans, each from local stations.

  It had been simple enough to get the journalists’ attention. Alex had simply mentioned that the agents were about to arrest the men responsible for levitating the Queen Mary. With that story dominating headlines still, it only took a hint to mobilize an army of reporters. Like hungry vultures seeking carrion, they had swooped in just seconds before the agents began leading their handcuffed suspects out the front door.

  With cameras recording every second, two of the stations had actually interrupted the broadcasts in progress so they could carry the event live. Under normal circumstances they would have recorded and edited the arrest, but with such fierce competition already on site, it was imperative that they did anything they could to take the lead. Panning up and down the scantily dressed women that were led out first, they noted that one was wearing men’s underwear. With shocked expressions, the ladies tried unsuccessfully to hide their faces. Feeling glee at the prospect of a juicy news story, the reporters shouted out their questions as police pushed them back.

  “Holy shit…” said the man holding a microphone emblazoned with Channel 3 News. Right away he seemed to recognize the obese man wearing ladies panties. “Is that the mayor?”

  Like their counterpart, the other journalists recognized the portly man wearing nothing more than a bikini and handcuffs. Like sharks that smelled blood, the reporters were immediately in a feeding frenzy, jamming their microphones into the air as they begged for a statement from the town’s leading politician. Trying to hide his face by turning away, the mayor was unsuccessful. Realizing that h
e could not escape, he instead chose to go into denial mode.

  “It’s a chiropractic office, I have serious lumbar issues! Don’t judge me.” His words pitiful, he barely got out his alibi before vanishing into the police van that awaited the prisoners. Within seconds the vehicle had lurched away from the site, headed downtown with its cargo.

  “Karma is a bitch.” A gleeful tone to her voice, Alexis echoed Jamie’s feelings at that very moment.

  “Loki is in charge of the karma department.” Smiling, the savant imagined Agent Asanté’s surprise when they realized who they had in custody. “Serves ‘em right. We tried to negotiate in good faith with them fellers, and instead they send in stormtroopers to track us down. What a buncha penises, and little ones at that.”

  “Shall I make the call?” Alexis piped up.

  “Yeah, let’s call them double-crossing sumbitches. I think I would enjoy hearing agent Asanté’s explanation.”

  Marco Asanté pulled off his helmet as the van with the prisoners zoomed out of sight. Although he would join them in due time, right now it was imperative that he gather up anything that could reveal the secret of the new technology they pursued.

  It seemed odd somehow that there were no computers in the whole place. Even the receptionist’s desk was just a monitor and keyboard, no actual PC. As he looked over the office it slowly became apparent that the entire front office was completely counterfeit. Really more of a mockup, it was like something a realtor might put in place to make the space seem more businesslike while hawking it to prospective renters.

  It was only when he stepped into the back offices that Marco truly understood what the place was. With a sexual dungeon in one room, and a heart shaped bed in the next, clearly he had stumbled upon a brothel of some sort.

  “Heh, the fat guy kept saying he was the mayor.” One of the agents in tactical gear snickered as he shared that tidbit. “I told him, yeah, the mayor of cell block nine, right?”

  Marco wanted to laugh, but the ID in the wallet on the floor told him this was no joke. Although he was new in town, he did recognize the man’s face from the news. As it slowly began to sink in, Asanté realized that they had been tricked into coming to this address. Ready to shout an obscenity, he was interrupted by the buzzing of a phone in his pocket.

  A quick glance at the display showed the number as being unlisted. Initially he thought to ignore it, but realized that it could just as easily be the White House calling for an update. Thumbing the display, he answered.

  “Agent Asanté of DHS.”

  “Hello, Marco.” Alex’s tone was bright and chipper. In truth, she did not like the man, especially knowing that he had just tried to track her down. “Have I called at a bad time?”

  Something about her voice told him that she knew exactly what was happing at that moment. Biting back his irritation, Asanté answered in a level voice.

  “No, nothing important. In fact I was hoping you would call back. We are ready for a counter offer.” Hoping to sidestep the issue, the federal agent wanted to talk about anything but the raid.

  “Ooooh goody, we have our own counter-counter offer.” Letting slip a girlish giggle, Alex was clearly pleased with herself today.

  “A counter offer to your own offer?” Something in that worried Asanté. Dropping his Kevlar helmet to the ground, he began stripping off the ballistic armor that was held in place by Velcro.

  “Yes, the entities that I represent would like to notify you that the price has been increased to one point two-five billion dollars, and a nine year lease. Also, I would like to draw your attention to the good-faith clause of the contract. Any attempt to incarcerate or harm our consortium will result in a complete forfeiture of all legal rights and claims to the product hereafter known as gravitational disaffinity, as well as all fees, payments and properties exchanged as part of the transaction.”

  “What the hell…?” Marco could feel his blood begin to boil as he realized that not only had they predicted he would have agents at the Stop ‘n Go, but they had even sent him on a wild goose chase that resulted in arresting the local mayor in connection with a prostitution ring. “We have been acting in good faith the entire time; I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oooh, Marco, you have such pretty eyes when you lie.” Snickering, Alex paused just long enough to watch him look around for a camera. No doubt he would tear the building apart trying to find it. She doubted it would ever occur to him that she was watching him via his own phone’s camera. “But I know that you tried to track me down, and that is why I sent you to Wanda’s massage parlor. I’d hoped you would appreciate the humor. Personally I am new to the concept of laughter, but it makes me feel good when I do. Are you a fan of laughing, Marco?”

  Seething, the agent already had a keen dislike for Alexis. Whoever she was, he would enjoy handcuffing her one day. Still imagining her expression as he locked those silver bracelets in place, Marco was surprised when his phone chirped to announce a new text message.

  “I have sent you an updated contract reflecting the new terms. I feel compelled to warn you against future transgressions against my benefactors.” Her voice firm, she disconnected the line before he could object. Having studied his psychological profile at length, she knew that few things would gall the man more than denying him the last word in a conversation.

  Swearing loudly, Marco was about ready to smash his phone against the far wall when it rang again. Glancing at the caller ID his blood froze when he saw the Washington DC area code.

  “Oh, fuck me.” Shaking his head, he knew this would not be a pleasant conversation.

  It had been simple enough for Jenna to find Sycamore and Birch. While her first instinct had been to run a records check, she had decided against it. With the pressure she and her people had been taking from higher echelons, she suspected that there may be other eyes watching the records she accessed. While it seemed foolish on the surface, the idea that her own government would be snooping on her in the middle of an investigation, she knew better than to think they would be playing by the rules this time.

  Besides, she really did not need to waste the time on a broad-band records search. Seeing the little white jeep starting and stopping at every driveway gave her an idea. Intercepting the mail carrier at the sidewalk, Jenna flashed her credentials and a professional smile. A few seconds later the US Postal employee was pointing to the little rundown home on the corner. Making note of the address, she considered her next move. About to cross the street, she noticed the man idling in the beige Ford. While there was nothing odd about someone sitting in their car on a public street, she had seen this ugly little beige rental car in her rearview mirror on the way to the site. It occurred to her that she could have an agent from another agency trying to ride her coattails on this case. Irritated, she started across the street with purpose.

  Seeing her, the man behind the wheel immediately shifted into gear and sped away. Making note of his license plate, she vowed to trace it to whatever federal agency had been trailing her.

  “Do your own damned police work!” Although Jenna Jaramillo was far too professional to throw a finger after the man, she felt the urge nonetheless. What a lazy asshole, tailgating another agent to get a jump on their case, she thought grimly. Watching his tail lights disappear around the corner, Jenna felt satisfied that he would not try that again.

  The house seemed odd somehow. While the exterior was a bit dilapidated, with a layer of dust on everything, the LCD screen by the front door appeared to be quite modern. Pressing the single button, she waited patiently for a response. There were no cars in the driveway, and the garage door was bereft of any windows, so it was difficult to tell if anyone was home.

  “Just leave any packages at the door, thank you.” The woman with red hair filled the little screen by the buzzer.

  “Actually I’m here to…conduct a census.” Jenna’s voice hesitated just the tiniest bit in the middle.

  “There is a hardware s
tore three blocks away. Currently they have a sale on fire extinguishers.” Showing a smug grin, the red haired woman seemed unconvinced.

  “Fire extinguisher…?” Jenna puzzled over the odd statement.

  “To extinguish your pants, because clearly they are on fire.” Giving a laugh, the face on the small screen focused her green eyes on Jenna. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

  Taken aback, it had been a long time since Jenna had been stumped for a reply.

  “I just have a few questions.” She admitted the half truth. “Is Jack Sparks home?”

  This time it was the woman with the red hair that seemed stumped for an answer. Taking a moment to look Jenna over, the face on the screen considered the request.

  “Jackie is unavailable at this time.” Telling her own little white lie, Alexis kept a straight face.

  “When will he be home?” Changing her question, the agent tried to gain as much information as she could.

  “I’ll have him call you when he is available.” Nodding seriously, the woman was about to turn away when Jenna stopped her.

  “Don’t you need my phone number?”

  Pausing in the screen, the red haired woman simply frowned before responding.

  “No, I got your number.” Her reply simple, Alexis terminated the conversation before Jenna could get in another question.

  Still watching the monitor, Jack and Jamie were completely focused on the woman standing at their front door.

  “Now that’s my kinda law enforcement.” Jack leered as he looked her over. “I just got a hankerin’ fer Mexican food. Yes, siree Bob.”

  “Keep your genitals in check, especially when you’re standing so close to me.” Professor James showed obvious irritation. “Your penis does not seem to understand the gravity of the situation.”

  “Oh yeah, because I don’t have your super brain I couldn’t possibly understand how far ahead of schedule this is? I can read a timeline, y’know.” Frowning, Jack dismissed his brother’s concerns with a wave of his hand. His eyes still glued to the screen, the inventor watched as Jenna finally gave up on ringing the doorbell and began to walk back towards her car. There was just something about her that tantalized him. Far beyond her physical exterior, she was more than just a pretty face. Smart, strong-willed, beautiful; Jack was having a hard time finding a downside to the woman. In the back of his mind he wondered if he was attracted to her because she reminded him of his mother?