The Day Gravity Became Irrelevant

by Ralph Rotten

  “Feel like getting some dinner?” Giving a playful smile, the inventor jerked his head towards the car behind him. “I know this really great Mexican food place up in LA. Rooftop service, the best salsa on Earth…”

  Jenna pretended to weigh the offer as she looked him up and down. “Why Mexican food, for my ethnic benefit?”

  Taken aback, Jack had never even considered that the proposal could be skewed that way.

  “Naw, I just like Mexican food. Tacos rule, baby!” Flashing a goofy grin, he stepped to one side and held open the door for her. “Or I know this really awesome little Greek place. They make these Gyro sandwiches that’re soooo tall you get a Charlie-horse in your jaw just trying to get the thing in your mouth. Messy as hell, too, but oh sooo good.”

  There was something about his rapid-fire way of talking that made her smile. She also had to give him points for looking her in the eyes consistently. Most of the time men looked everywhere but her eyes.

  “Y’know, I got nothing against tacos or sliced lamb sandwiches, but I’m just an ordinary American girl with pedestrian tastes, and right now I could kill for a burger.”

  “Oh?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “And not one of those supersize-my-waistline burgers. I just want a classic American hamburger, nothing fancy.” Standing with arms folded, she waited for him to agree to her terms.

  “I know just the place.” Flicking his eyes between Jenna and the open door, he used his eyebrows to gesture towards an imminent departure.

  “Classic burger.” She reminded him before relenting and climbing into the waiting car.

  Twenty minutes later they sat parked on the edge of a little puffy cloud while enjoying a milk shake and a cheeseburger.

  “You sure you didn’t want fries?” Jack asked as if he’d fly right back to the restaurant.

  “No, it violates the Ricky-Tikki-Tavi diet.” She said with a smirk. It was the first time she had ever mentioned it to anyone else.

  “Ricky-Tikki-Tavi?” Jack considered it. “The Rudyard Kipling character?”

  The agent gave a chortle at that. “Sure. I was actually thinking of the animated movie, but Kipling was in there too.”

  “I’ve heard of a lotta diets, this being California and all, but that is a new one on me.” Taking a bite of his burger the inventor gave her a sideways look as he awaited further clarification.

  Giving some thought to how she would phrase it, Jenna started out hesitantly.

  “See, Rikki was a mongoose, and when he was a little baby his mother taught him to never fill up on dinner, never gorge himself, to always leave a little wanting. See, if he fills up then he’ll be too slow to defeat the cobras. She taught him to never stuff himself, always stay light and fast. I love French fries, but they’re really nothing but a bag of grease, and I need to be quicker than the cobras.” Flashing the badge that was clipped to her belt, she made her point understood.

  Jack could not help but laugh out loud. Not because he thought it was foolish, but because of the candid manner that she had confessed that little philosophy of hers.

  “You’re a cheap date. I was ready to spring for real French food.” Holding up a French fry as a contrast, Jack kidded her.

  “Date?” She raised an eyebrow. “I thought this was a negotiation.”

  “Aren’t all dates a negotiation?” Feigning innocence, Jack pointed out the logic.

  “Not a date.” Waving a dismissive finger, she let him know where they stood. “Negotiation. Don’t get all moony-eyed on me; we’re here to negotiate the sale of your technology. This is business.”

  “Fair enough.” Jack agreed. “But if you’re not busy after your mission is over, I’d like to see you on a personal basis.”

  “Hmmmph.” Jenna cast him a sideways look that dripped in skepticism. “Unlikely; bureau policy and all.”

  Despite her rigid front, Jack knew better than to believe her dismissal. He had seen enough genuine rejections to know better. Glancing out the window he calculated their progress as the car made its way over a bumpy layer of cumulous clouds. Seeing a pair of dots silhouetted against the bright backdrop, he had a feeling they were not alone. With Alexis in his ear, he quickly had confirmation of his suspicions.

  Never letting on, Jack chatted away happily. Truly, there was nowhere else he would rather be. Jenna was so unlike the bimbos he usually dated. College-educated, well read, she had no trouble keeping up with the conversation. Even when he got technical, her eyes never glazed over. In fact, he was pretty sure that he could detect the faintest twinkle in her eyes as they talked. Still, he knew to respect her professional distance. As it was, he actually found her sense of duty admirable. He would have been disappointed had she given into his romantic overtures so easily.

  “So what made you become a federal agent?” Taking opportunity at a lull in the conversation, Jack asked the question he had been pondering since first seeing her image on Jamie’s desk.

  Although it was an honest question, it was one that Jenna fielded ad nauseam. It seemed like every man wanted to know why she was working instead of having babies in the suburbs. They never actually said the latter half, but it was always implied. Not interested in telling that tired old story, she flipped the question on her host.

  “Why’d you become an inventor?” she asked.

  Shrugging, Jack had to think about it. No one had ever asked him that.

  “I like to build stuff that no one else has.” Shrugging, he answered simply enough. “It’s what I was born to do. When I sleep at night I dream of new circuits and better ways to design.”

  Jenna accepted that as she watched a fluffy cloud slide past her window. “And that’s why I’m a federal agent; because at night I dream of better ways to catch bad guys.”

  “So are you like a dog dreaming of a squirrel?” He asked with a playful smile before impersonating a pooch having a good dream. “Woof, woof!”

  Jenna laughed as she imagined it. In her childhood she’d had a dog named Bosco who gave just such a show; barking and scrabbling his feet in ethereal pursuit of some rabbit or mailman. It made her feel warm inside to conjure up that memory. The image was even funnier when she thought of herself doing it under the blankets.

  “It’s just the way I’m wired.” She shrugged, concealing her amusement at his antics. “Some people are wired to be healers, others are wired to be builders or leaders…”

  “But you’re wired to be a protector.” Jack summed it up. “One of those among us who’s specifically skilled for battle; the huntress. In a previous life I betcha you were a lioness.”

  That drew a laugh from her. “I’m surprised to hear you endorse reincarnation. I thought all of you scientist types were agnostics, no scientific evidence of God and all that.”

  Jack had to sit back and give that a good belly laugh before turning back to her.

  “No scientific evidence of God.” The inventor seemed to find that point particularly humorous. “Allow me to put that statement into perspective. Imagine two cavemen sitting by their camp fire cookin’ a dead dawg, and one turns to the other and says nooo scientific evidence offf God”

  Jenna raised an eyebrow as she waited for him to explain.

  “See, it’s stupid to rule out the existence of anything just because our primitive human technology can’t prove it. I mean honestly, what would you use to search for God if you were looking for him; radar? Infra-red? A litmus test? Hell, we’re so primitive we only just invented flying cars. We don’t even have tricorders yet, and we act like we have amassed enough knowledge of the universe to conclude the nature of a being capable of building all existence from nothing more than gravity and hydrogen? Ya gotta admit; that’s a helluva engineering feat. Fact is; humans are only ten thousand years out a loincloth. We haven’t even managed to escape from our own solar system and yet we act like we have a lock on the true nature of the universe? That’s just arrogant. Humanity has yet to even fall off the galactic turnip truck and we
’re thinking we’re all that.”

  Jenna had to laugh at that. “Now that you mention it, it is setting a pretty low bar.”

  “It’s to be expected. An ant thinks it can see the whole world from its perspective. We’re no different. Where we differ from the lowly ant is that humans have the ability to comprehend that our field of vision is limited. It is our hubris that makes us blind.”

  “Quite the philosopher, you missed your calling; you should have been a minister.”

  “Yeah, I dunno about that. I’m not the church type. That’s just another buncha cavemen thinking they got God all figured out in a nice, neat little package. As if.” Jack laughed out loud as it occurred to him that the last time he had been in a house of worship had been his parents’ funeral, more than a decade earlier.

  Speaking quietly into his ear, Alexis updated the inventor on the speck that lingered in the distance. As if using the clouds to hide, the tiny dot seemed to peek out only intermittently. Returning his attention to the lady who sat beside him, Jack left the driving to Alexis.

  “So have you ever considered doing something else?” Having seen her reading list, he knew she had more than one facet.

  Jenna had to give it thought. There had been many professions out there she found fascinating, but none she felt truly suited for. Searching her memory for that sensation of dreamy wonderment she hit upon one occupation that had been an early favorite.

  “When I was little I wanted to be an astronaut so bad. I was going to fly the next generation of shuttles, explore the solar system.”

  “But you didn’t. Why not?” It interested Jack to know why she felt she had not achieved that dream.

  “Oh,” She responded as if it was a massive question. “Getting into NASA is… And I’m not the scientist type. If you need some thugs in space rounded up then I’d be a great astronaut, but all the science, and the math. Plus you have to have a college degree to even be considered, and that wasn’t me, so instead I joined the army.”

  Jack took note of that last point. “But you did eventually get a college degree, didn’t you?”

  “I did.” There was a touch of pride to her voice. It had been hard work getting a degree while actively serving as an MP. There had been so many times that the math requirements nearly made her give up the whole thing. But in the end she had managed to come out of it with a certificate that authenticated her as one of the anointed few.

  Glancing ahead as the car broke through the clouds Jack could see the California desert before them. In a steady descent, the Mustang seemed to be headed towards the drab gray compound ahead.

  “Here’s an interesting factoid; the smartest man on Earth has no college degree. True fact. My brother never even completed a semester of college, got denied equivalency testing. They practically had him escorted off campus.” Jack returned his attention to the passenger seat.

  “I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve read, college would have been like living in slow motion for a mind like your brother’s.” Locking eyes with him, Jenna said nothing about their obvious descent. She had a feeling he would tell her when he was ready. With a loaded pistol clipped to her belt she felt a measure of confidence.

  “You never met him?” Jack pretended to be surprised. “Oh, well everyone should get to meet my brother; it’s what I like to refer to as a unique experience.”

  Jack’s devious smile hinted at their destination. Looking up over the hood Jenna could make out the tall fences topped with concertina wire. She could tell that the way the fence was topped, with the brackets angled inwards, that the barrier was designed to keep people IN, not out. There was just something about the windowless facility and its surveillance towers that screamed of a custodial facility.

  “Jack?” She asked hesitantly as it became apparent that they were on a collision course with the compound.

  “You will need this.” Handing her a folded sheet of paper he knew she would unfold it right away.

  “A new contract?” She was surprised when she noticed the final price; $2,000,000,000, in cash. As if predicting her next question, someone had highlighted a line in the special clauses section. “I don’t understand.”

  “Stories make the most sense at the end.” Shrugging, Jack offered nothing further as the car settled into the middle of the compound. Already they could hear the commotion from the nearby guard shack at the front gate. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed.

  “Where are we?” she asked skeptically as her hands folded the contract up neatly.

  “This is Station X-Ray. They are keeping my brother here.” He gestured towards the main building as more alarms could be heard.

  “Where the hell is here?” She seemed surprised at the remote locale. Outside of the fence there was nothing but desert.

  “This is but one of over a hundred such facilities throughout the country. Gitmo isn’t America’s only black site.” Nodding agreeably, Jack had been surprised to learn those same facts just a few weeks ago.

  “No, not on American soil…” She seemed unconvinced.

  “You are welcome to see for yourself, and while you’re in there, can you check on my brother, please.” Ever aware of the men with automatic weapons converging on them, Jack gave her a terse smile before gesturing to the contract in her pocket. “After all, you are the designated POC for this little exchange, by authority of the President of these here United States.”

  “Why did you raise the price again?” There were too many blanks in the equation for Jenna’s comfort.

  “You should ask the gunship that followed us here. It’s out there, orbiting, waiting for me to try and leave.” A flick of his head, Jack indicated back the way they’d come. “The NSA installed a tracking app on your phone after you were kidnapped.”

  Jenna could see at a glance that he was serious. It was a stark departure from his usual mannerisms. No humor, no playful grin, he had said it as if it were published fact.

  “Out of the vehicle!” The man’s voice was accompanied by the sound of more boots approaching. Distinguishable in the background was the sound of his safety being disabled as he held a submachine gun on the vehicle.

  “It’s been a pleasure, but this is where we part ways Agent Jaramillo.” Making no move to exit the vehicle, Jack indicated towards her door.

  In her mind she considered the possibilities. As she weighed her options it occurred to her that this was all just part of their elaborate plan. While the cop in her instinctively wanted to bring in the second brother, she realized that she was in no position to do anything but keep her hands in the air as the guards shouted for her to exit the vehicle. Giving the inventor one last dour look, she realized he had engineered this situation intentionally. Glancing at the back seat, she could not help but notice the helmet and space suit piled up there.

  “Go take care of my brother.” Jack nodded twice.

  Exhaling sharply, Jenna did her best to exit the vehicle while keeping her hands in plain sight. With her credentials momentarily hidden by her jacket, all the guards saw was a woman wearing a holstered weapon. Immediately on alert, the three guards on that side of the vehicle forgot all about the battered Mustang as they directed the agent to lie face down.

  Jack turned to face the lone security officer on his side of the car. Taller than the others, and a complexion too dark to be Caucasian, the inventor recognized Officer Taylor from file photos. With Alexis whispering in his ear, he knew exactly what to say.

  “Yo, bro.” Jack gave a cheery smile. “You didn’t get that promotion.”

  “Outta the car!” Initially firm in his tone, the guard seemed to hesitate. “What the hell you say?”

  “You didn’t get the promotion. Cap’n gave it to Wilson.” Jack shrugged haplessly.

  “Wilson?” The tip of the weapon dropped just the least bit as Officer Taylor looked Jack over. “Get the fuck outta here wit’ that.”

  “He did; Cap’n promoted his secretary-slash-girlfriend.” Jack tried to appea
r sympathetic as he noticed that the little submachine gun had drooped significantly while Taylor considered this information. Taking the opportunity, Jack enabled the disaffinity device. Lurching straight up into the sky, the little Mustang actually stirred up a plume of dust with its hasty exit.

  Rising straight up, Jack knew to leverage his strengths. Although he doubted his little flying car could outrun an AH64 Apache gunship, he knew for sure that he could out climb it.

  From his vantage in the front seat, Chief Warrant Officer William Blevins could see the little Mustang shoot straight up into the sky. Doing his best to keep a visual on the fast moving target, he bemoaned the fact that the Apache was not really designed for this kind of mission. Despite being an excellent killing machine, it was really designed for ground targets. Although the gunship sported eight optically guided Hellfire missiles, each capable of destroying the most hardened armor on the planet, Blevins was unsure if they would be effective against such a quick airborne target as the Mustang. That left the chin gun to do the job. The 30mm cannon was fully loaded with combat rounds, each easily identified by the black and gold bands on the projectile.

  “He’s jamming us hard.” Blevins worked the weapons controls. “I can’t get a lock with the Hellfires. I think he’s jamming that too…?”

  “How the hell do you jam an optically guided missile?” The pilot was bemused. Though he only had conditional orders to fire, he wanted to be ready if the rabbit chose to run. Switching to guns, he tried to keep the target box on the little Mustang as it soared above him. Climbing as fast as the Apache was capable; the helicopter was just beginning to catch up when the little Ford suddenly reversed and began a rapid descent.